#especially when you are as old as christ themselves

[mangywayway]

Oh look, someone discovered that unexpected events can happen, and doesn't matter how much attention did you pay or how much you where sure that everything was okay, now you you have them and you need to find a way to resolve them even if you complain and cry about it mh mh

Who could have guessed that life doesn't go as straight as you fought in your mind mmh

[dollfacefantasy]

cherry-flavored, heart-shaped ♡

billy butcher x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, blowjob, deep throating this man robs me of my ability to write coherently

He was such a fucking cliché, and he couldn't stand it. 

Billy Butcher was better than this. Well maybe not better, but he was supposed to be smarter than this. He was smarter than the skeevy old pervs who got themselves wrapped around a twenty-something's finger when she batted her eyes or pulled out a pouty lip. That stuff didn't work on him. He'd been married for Christ's sake. He'd been around the block, and it would take a lot more than a cute girl to make him cream his jeans.

But saying all that and living it are two different things. Acknowledging that he hated this didn't make the fact that Billy's eyes were locked on your mouth right now any less true. It didn't absolve him of the festering obsession he felt over the way your plush lips suckled on that cherry red lollipop.

A cherry lollipop. Heart-shaped no less. It was pathetic really, and he knew it.

By this point, he'd surmised you had a bit of an oral fixation. Whenever you weren't running your mouth about this or that, the orifice was always occupied; chewing gum, nipping at the skin of your knuckles, sucking on some of those hard candies you seemed to have on you at all times. It was pretty cute if he was being honest.

He couldn't deny the fact that it endeared you to him, especially not when you were sitting like you are now, sprawled across the couch, legs in his lap, eyes on the tv while your tongue propelled the sweet candy back and forth between your lips.

He wasn't exactly sure what the two of you were. You'd fucked a handful of times and seemed to spend more time with each other than you did anyone else on the team, but those weren't terms of a relationship. He didn't think you two were 'boyfriend-girlfriend' as you had so gracefully put it when you asked him, but you were also more than just some random hookup he'd forget about the next day and recall years later.

Wherever your relationship stood, he knew it was close enough that he could do what he was about to. His fingers wrapped around your ankle, and by the leg, he tugged you closer to him on the couch.

He shakes his head at the way you laugh and climb into his lap, but he gets you situated on his thigh all the same. You lean back against his chest like it's the most natural thing in the world. Your eyes were on the tv, but it was clear in your eyes that your head held no thoughts regarding the VNN broadcast.

"You must really like that thing the way you're suckin' on it," he grumbles teasingly in your ear.

"Mhm. You wanna taste?" you ask, sliding the hard candy from between your lips.

Your fingers pinch the thin white stick between them and wave it in front of his mouth. The glow of the tv lets him see how it glistens with your saliva.

Wordlessly, he parts his lips and takes the taste you offered. You giggle as he does, watching the whole time as he sucks on your candy. Your cherry-flavored spit mingles with his taste buds; sickeningly saccharine, but he can't get enough. He can already feel himself starting to grow stiff in his pants.

A particularly hard suck pulls the ivory twig away from your fingertips. You go to grab it, but he grabs your wrist first.

"Hey-" you start to whine.

"You're right, s'pretty good. Think I'll have some more of it," he taunts with that grin of his, the candy slotted between his teeth and inner cheek.

"Give it," you insist and try to reach for it again.

It's easy to subdue you though. He manhandles you into being still on his lap with a simple hold on both of your wrists.

"You still need something in that mouth, don't you?" he teases, "Need something to suck on or you get restless?"

You nod, and as your head is still moving, two of his fingers rise to your lips and replace the lollipop. He pushes them in, resting the thick digits on your tongue. It catches you by surprise. You'd had his dick inside you before, but somehow this felt more intimate. Once your brain registers the feeling completely, you gently suck on them as you had the hard candy.

"Good girl," he croons with a gleam in his eye. His fingers slide over your tongue, gliding back and forth in the warm wet embrace of your mouth.

It fascinated him, the way you seemed so content to just sit there and suckle on his fingers as a suitable replacement. It was that moment that spawned his desire to go deeper.

Only a few days later, his cock replaced his fingers. No longer were you perched in his lap, but rather kneeling between his legs. He pets your head as you look up at him with glossy eyes and your mouth curved into an O around his shaft.

"There you go, love. You got it. Start easy," he directs.

You pull back a bit and lap at the tip. The point of your tongue flicks against the beads of precum oozing from the head. It swipes at the ridge before you wrap your mouth around it in full again. Both his and your eyes flutter shut at the tender pull of your lips.

"Just like that. You know what you're doing," he praises.

His cock was much bigger than his fingers. Longer and fatter. It was a win win - you got your oral urges satiated through satisfying him. It took more work, but you were determined to have as much of it as you physically could. You push your head down more, working it further into your mouth. You suck with slightly more pressure. Your hand rubs the part you couldn't yet reach.

You'd been making progress over the last few days. You hadn't managed to get it all yet, but you'd made it pretty far down. He just made you start at the beginning each time.

"Such a fast learner. Soon enough you'll be able to take it all down in one go," he groans.

His head tilts back against the couch. He enjoys every moment of your tongue pressing on the underside of his cock, your saliva coating every inch that fits in your mouth.

You take another inch down your throat. You can feel your gag reflex start to flare up, but you try your best. Your best isn't good enough though because a gag rolls through you and globs of spit dribble from your mouth.

He swoops in for the save with two fingers under your chin, guiding you back off. He's smiling while looking down into your watery eyes.

"Don't want you gettin' too messy, pup," he teases and swipes some excess spit from your lips.

You gaze up at him with nothing but pure adoration in your glossy eyes. Reaching out, you grab his length again for a few tentative strokes.

"Catch your breath first. Then you can try again," he says and rubs his thumb over your cheek.

"Want more though," you mumble and lean back in.

Despite your need, you do recognize that you need a break. So instead, you go lower than before. You lap at his balls with the most gentle touch you can manage. Your tongue’s strokes are feather light, almost exploratory. They're heavy, the skin is soft, you can hear his breath hitching every time you come close to the sensitive area.

With as much care as possible you take one into your mouth. Then the other. Your hand still fists his dick above before letting it slap against your face. His thighs tense up with restraint, the sight of you in such a compromising position arouses him to no end. He's sure the sight of his cock resting against your nose while your lips cup his sack will be burned into his brain till he takes his last breath.

A few moments later, you release him and bring your mouth back to his tip. You take him in again, sliding down to the position you had before.

"Fuckin' hell," he mumbles and sinks back into the couch again. His hand runs through his own hair as he suppresses the urge to buck into your mouth and fuck your face.

You take it like a pro, your nose ghosting over the swath of hair on his pelvis. You breathe in and out through your nose, rhythmic and calm just like he'd taught you. Your throat contracts and releases as you swallow him a bit deeper. You almost have it. A small gagging noise leaves you, but you have it under control.

He pets your head again, encouraging you with the touch. "Such a good girl for me, making me feel so good. Takin' care of me just like you were made to," he grunts.

You close your eyes and focus. You were gonna get this. 

You bring your hands to hold his hips for leverage and try to nuzzle yourself closer to the base. His tip sinks into your throat, but you stay relaxed. It felt foreign and different, but you wanted it more than anything in this moment. Your knees dig in the ground, steeling yourself to continue.

"That's it. There you go. 'm so proud of you," he mutters through clenched teeth.

That last sentence is all you need. It's like a key you didn't even know existed. It slots into your brain and unlocks the part of you that allows you to take the remaining part of his cock into your mouth.

Your nose is now nestled against him, your eyes barely able to reach his since you can't tilt your head much. He moans, deep in his chest. His hands come to the sides of your head to hold onto it in a similar manner to how you held his hips.

"Right there, fuck. Right there, my little love," he grunts and keeps you in position.

It's an adjustment, but once you're comfortable with it, it doesn't seem like such a big deal. You swallow around him again, ripping another low moan from his esophagus.

After your small period of adaptation, he cautiously pulls your head up and then pushes it back down. His hips rock a bit off the couch to meet the snug warmth of your throat. The face-fucking starts slow, but soon enough a steady symphony of gags and gulps fills the room. 

"Think you're a natural at this, sweetheart," he chokes out, "Pretty thing like you."

His chest puffs with ragged breaths as he thrusts into you over and over. Your nose mashes against his bush and delicate tears roll down your cheeks. He feels his lower half tightening up, and he knows the end is near.

"Gonna cum, love. You ready? You gonna swallow it all like a good girl for me?" he asks, breaths turning into pants.

"Mhm," you whine around the dick sliding in and out of your mouth.

His fingers press against your face as his hips buck and his heels dig into the ground. A long, pleasured groan falls from him, and he cums, shooting hot, sticky ropes down your throat. You swallow it as it fills you, humming against his shaft.

He gently pumps it in, keeping himself deep inside until he's thoroughly sated. Only then does he slide you back and let you off of him. Strings of saliva hang from your lips which you lazily wipe away.

The both of you catch your breaths from the two opposite experiences. The first time you blew him, he thought you'd want him to return the favor right after, but just like now, that never seemed to be the case. You'd get yours before the night was done, sure. But right now, you got what you wanted by crawling up into his lap and melting against your chest.

He holds you close, pecking the space below your eyes and the tip of your nose. He whispers to you about how sweet you are and what a good girl you can be. You're nice and settled in his lap, curled up as he switches the channel from VNN to something more pleasant.

Before you really get comfortable though, you lean forward and pull something from your handbag on the table. Back against his chest, you tear the plastic away from another one of those lollipops and shove it into your mouth, gently sucking as your cheek squishes against his chest. The heart-shaped candy rests on your tongue while your ear presses on his chest and takes in the steady beat of his heart.

[livingdeadmlm]

You Bring me Closer to God

Arthur with a priest Male reader REWRITTEN

Pronouns: reader is referred to as a man

Physical Sex: AMAB

How far are things going?: not full sex but some slight head and dirty talk

Warnings: bit of shame, priest reader didn’t think gay people were being fr, a bit of corruption kink, talks of previous paartners Arthur has had, lewd acts in an empty church, wet dreams, Catholics

Outline: Arthur has had a change of heart recently, but once he sits in the confessional booth with you late at night he can’t help old habits as he teases you, and not knowing better you internalize it.

What inspired me to write how I did: the crappy priest romance book I got lol

Other: I desperately wanted to rewrite this before posting it to Ao3, but I wanted to keep the original up! this is 4555 words, and I want to make it an actual fic! I don't know yet if I want it to just be Arthur pining after Reader, or maybe I can do the others in the gang? maybe that'll ruin it idk!!

Part 1 2 3

The road to priesthood was hard. Most people cannot make the sacrifices needed to devote themselves to the Lord. But you could. Swearing chastity was the easiest thing you had ever done for the church. You never intended to marry a woman and have children. It just never interested you, so at the push of your parents, you packed a bag and started school. But your intense devotion to God quickly took precedence as your studies began.

The feedback you received during your orientation was overwhelmingly positive, especially regarding your ability to grasp scripture so quickly. Additionally, your desire to help others stood out.

The other men you worked with sought you out for advice and help. When giving out food and clothing, they'd complain about the scantily clad women being a temptation. Almost everything was a temptation to your brothers in Christ. Women even having their hair down caused you to be the leading food runner for the town of Valentine.

You did your best to comfort your brothers, letting them know that temptation was only a test of faith and that pulling through was the true defining trait. However, any attempt at comfort was met with contempt. Each man insisted God blessed you and made you for this job; you couldn't understand their struggles.  

It hurt to hear you wanted more than anything to empathize with your fellow men, but they were right in a way; you didn't struggle with lust. Women could approach you in nothing but rags, and your mind would never falter. You were trained to be a Shepherd leading sheep to safety, and that's what you would remain.  

Learning to comfort men and women struggling with lust was moved to the top of your list of things to study when you were assigned to work the confessional booth at 20. Not to toot your own horn, but now, at 40, you are confident in your ability to manage any situation where people come for help. Were you 100% sure of the advice you gave? Not by personal testing, but you had a success rate that couldn't be beat. 

While the booth's purpose was anonymity and privacy, most of the foot traffic occurred when you were in. Women insisted that the energy around you was how they recognized you and that the booth was warm when you were there.  

And today, the sun was setting as the door opened to both, and someone sat down with a huff. It was a voice you’d heard around town but had never met the man behind it. It was gruff and had to belong to a man about your age.  

Your heart swelled. Too many men in Valentine's were stubborn about admitting anything. So, to have someone new join you in the booth—an older man reaching out—you could hardly bear the joy of a man swallowing his pride.

You believed it was never too late to return to God. When you return to Him, it is what was meant to happen. “Good afternoon; what brings you in today?” 

"I’ve never been a religious man, Father, but recently, I’ve been talked into coming in.” A smile graced your face. “It’s nice of you to give church a chance! Well, good sir, what has been happening that you wish to speak about?" A low sigh came from next to you as the man began, “I’m a bad man. I steal, I lie, and I’ve killed Father.” Your stomach stirred. People come in with many issues, but each one feels like hearing it for the first time again. Arthur was talking into coming by Reverend after drinking and gambling for hours straight. He was sure Reverand was projecting the feelings of dread and fear of hell after death, but to shut the man up, he agreed to come, no deeper reason.

It had been some time since a cowboy had sauntered into your booth, his boots kicking up the dust from the floor as if their presence was rare. Stories of the Wild West used to echo loudly in this space; the vibrant tales of the once Wild West seemed to fade. Society was moving on, leaving behind the rugged charm of the weathered hats and weather-beaten faces of cowboys.

He opened up more and more as time ticked by. Initially, he only hurt awful people, only if they were harming innocents; he’d meet them with equal force. But the bar for those was horrible in his eyes and was getting lower and lower. Quicker to anger for even just a sideways look. His explanations of almost everything he was going through and what he put others through, if they were not scary and authentic, you'd commend him for being a fantastic storyteller.

He got to a point where he increasingly hesitated before sharing information, pausing before opening up about what you thought was a new, unknown individual he had intentionally deceived or provoked to start a fight. “Mister, you do not have to tell me everything all at once. This booth is open practically 24 hours a day, 7 days a week! Just ring the small bell when you arrive.” Your voice was soft; you didn’t want to push the man away, but you wanted him to know he could come in at other times to get more comfortable.

The air was thick as you awaited his response. You weren’t sure why, but your heart began to race; he had to have more to share from such a long and well-lived life. His unspoken struggles lingered, making the booth feel so small; you would be intertwined if a wooden wall hadn’t separated you. But it was there and so real, you couldn’t see him, unable to witness his hesitant gaze and the slight frown on his face. But if you could, it would cause a stir in your chest with an unexpected desire to comfort him beyond the constraint of words. You craved to reach out, to put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him that he was seen.

The idea of offering a hand to shatter the fundamental barrier of the confessional booth felt terrifying. He had admitted to crimes that should have driven you to report him to a sheriff, but leaving this man lost was the last thing on your mind. But this must be how you felt about every lost soul that entered your booth.

"It's not that, Father (Name). I have a lot of history with women and even men. I'm not sure you're too keen on hearing it." If it weren't for the booth's screen, you might have felt embarrassed for him to see how red you had turned. You instinctively covered your mouth with your hand in embarrassment. "Uh, I'm not sure what you mean by history. Do you mean violent? We’ve discussed that so far, and I understand it—"

The conversation shifted into uncharted territory, revealing a vulnerability between you. His gaze lingered on the dotted screen separating you two.

"No, Father (Name). You’ve never heard of men being with other men?" Your stomach leaped. You had heard of homosexuality but hadn’t considered it to be an actual reality people have lived. It was a struggle some men faced, but you had never contemplated it for yourself. You never gave it much thought, as sex with women never interested you, but two men? What were they to do?

"I am aware of it on a surface level, but I can help you, as I have helped many others—both women and men—struggling with adultery." A grunt could be heard from the other side of the confessional booth, followed by a heavy sigh from the man. "Okay then, how about this, Father (Name)," there was rustling as the man stood up.

"I'll be back around 11:30 to discuss this with you; the things I've done shouldn't be spoken about in the daylight." You craved to reach out and reassure him that he was seen and understood, yet the boundaries loomed large. He bid you goodbye as the door opened and shut, letting in a tiny sliver of sunlight. You saw his shadow—a hefty, brooding man with a hat.

His impending return felt like a double-edged sword. You wanted to be there for him, to help him navigate his shadows. Still, crossing into more profound, more complicated territory made you uneasy. Questions swirled in your mind—were you genuinely able to help him? Would your inexperience be what holds you back for good this time? You sat in the booth, an odd, uncomfortable feeling in your stomach as you realized you had to prepare for tonight's meeting. While innocent as it was to help a man find the light, it felt like something you had to hide. Meeting so late at night.

As the sun set, you felt a stir in your stomach. You had your bible, attempting to find a proper way to go about the conversation later. As you looked, all you could feel was nervous, many thoughts swarming your head. Men had come in and described their acts with women, and you were more than clear-headed on the steps they needed to take. But this man, having already acted on the thoughts he had about men, made you think of sodomy as an old law you deemed shaky at best. 

Sex that was not for reproduction was considered a sin by a few peers, but the bible itself said no such thing. You sighed, stepping into the kitchen of the church. You usually prepared dinner from donated foods from the local general store for those in need, but a new face appeared tonight. 

His eyes were slightly fearful as you greeted him, his eyes filled with joy at the offer of as much lamb stew as he could stomach. You knew you shouldn’t have, but you couldn't help but try to compare his voice to the man you spoke to during sunset. You concluded it couldn’t have been him as he thanked you for the hundredth time for the food and stuffed a third bowl in his stomach. 

Mickey had come in as joyous as ever, telling you about a new man who had gone out of his way to speak to and hug him. You celebrated with the two men, having a bowl of soup for yourself.

“Would it be okay, Father, if I bring any friends? I don’t know if they’re the church type and if coming in on Sundays would be required.” The poor boy stammered as he packed away a fourth bowl of soup.

“That’s more than alright! I don’t think there should be any pressure to join the church for any reason other than genuine interest.” You smiled, gesturing to the pot of soup, which was halfway empty. “Every mouth deserves to be fed; I even do breakfast!” The man nodded, taking a sip of water as Mickey began a story.

Time ticked on as you bid Mickey and the man, whose name you learned was Kieran, a farewell with a hug.

Candles burned across the church, offering a gentle light. As you glanced up, you saw a large man enter the booth. Fearing you were late, you quickly followed his steps and sat in the booth.

"Good evening, Father (Name). I am glad you are open so late.”

"Of course, what about these relations that cannot be spoken about during daylight, Mister?" "Morgan." "I'm sorry." "You can call me Arthur Morgan." There was silence for a second. You smiled, having a name for the mystery man. "Well, Mister Morgan! What about these relations keep you from sleeping?" The man shuffled slightly as he cleared his throat. 

"I haven't seen men and women in that light over the past few months, but I find myself missing it. At night, I can't shake the desire for the warmth of someone beside me, the comfort of knowing who is next to me, and the sheer joy of feeling their best." His voice was soft and low, and you unconsciously leaned closer to the screen, drawn in by the intimacy of his words. 

The gentle flicker of candlelight danced around the booth, casting shadows against the box. Arthur's low voice, tinged with longing, pulled you in even further. "You talk of these connections," you replied softly, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. “It's clear how much you crave that closeness." The moment's energy sent shivers down your spine as you leaned in further, the barrier between you both seeming to dissolve.

"It's not just the physical interactions I miss. It's the intimacy—how another person can make you feel alive and understood." You could sense the ache in his words, and your heart responded with an unfamiliar flutter. "I never feel more alive than when I have someone pretty exhausted next to me."

The tight feeling was back in your stomach. "Well, Mister Morgan, the only real sins you commit in these cases are ones of the flesh; God does not punish those as harshly as they are the easiest to commit." your fingers are tucked between the thin pages of your Bible. 

Arthur chuckled. "As I talk to you, Father, something tells me you have no experience with this whole thing. You've never been through this before, have you, Father (Name)?" You laughed and shifted in your seat. "You got me there, Mister Morgan; I've never had a girlfriend!" There was silence from Arthur. You could still hear your name echoing; his voice was captivating.

"Though my personal experience or lack thereof, in these matters isn't significant when it comes to helping you." The church was silent, and there wasn't another soul around, as everyone had long since gone home. Crickets chirped as the silence stretched on.  

Feeling a bit anxious, you took a deep breath and continued, trying to gauge his reaction. "To put it simply, it’s often associated with any sexual acts that aren’t aimed at procreation, but definitions can vary widely." You couldn’t see his eyebrows knit together in thought, "It's a complex topic, really; some say it's anal intercourse or intercourse with an animal," you added, "What matters is how you interpret those teachings in your own life." 

"I do wonder, Mister Morgan, other than, um, sodomy, what else do two men partake in?" Your voice felt small and strained. It felt inappropriate to ask, as if it was invasive. His laughter filled the space again, warm and inviting, as if he could sense the heat radiating from you through the wall separating you both. The line between priest and man blurred then, and the night deepened.

“Some men just like kissin' Father. Most brush it off as an in-the-moment type thing. They were ‘too drunk and didn’t realize.’ But they knew the mouth they were swapping spit with was a man. No woman has a full beard and mustache. Maybe even some grabbing and rubbing.” You now felt incredibly top-heavy, as if your legs would struggle to support you if you stood.

You could only imagine what grabbing went on and rubbing. You felt flushed at the idea of such closeness with a man. Was this how homosexuals felt? An ache in their groin to be near a man, not for sex but just passionate closeness? Was it some divine calling that led you to this path, or was it simply your desires—your homosexual tendencies—that pushed you in this direction? Was it not some blessing from God but the pull of something far more human and complicated than mere faith?

But he continued, “Some men even love another man’s mouth on them. Did ya know that Father (Name)? A man taking another man in his mouth?” His tone was curious, but you missed his intentions in provoking you. Sure, he was here to become a better person. But even a saint would become desperate to see your face tighten at the most minor touches you’ve never experienced. The slacks you wore under your cassock felt uncomfortable. They never felt so glued to your body. The extra fabric of your cassock gave you more coverage, but you couldn���t feel more exposed.

“No, I, um, uh, wasn’t aware of that type of… intercourse, Mister Morgan. I didn’t know the options two men had when bedded together.” You felt like you were gasping for air as you spoke as if the air from your words was being sucked out of you by Arthur.

“Is there anything else that keeps you at night with these memories, Mister Morgan?” Your stomach felt tight. The atmosphere in the booth was intense and hot. While you wanted to help, you also wished things would cool down and not feel so hot.

"I’ve just been feeling lonely. I miss sleeping next to someone most nights—someone who doesn’t leave before I open my eyes in the morning." His voice sounded sad, bringing the warm feelings in your head back down to earth.

"God is with you every night, Mister Morgan," you said, clearing your throat as you gazed through the screen that separated you. You could make out his side profile, but there were no specifics. "Of course, you can’t hug or kiss God. But you can feel His presence with you. I’m also here for you, Mister Morgan. The whole church is! If you need company, there’s always someone here during regular business hours." You heard his boots scrape against the floor on the other side of the booth. You were offering more than words; you were offering to be a presence in his life. He couldn’t help but find you foolish; why on earth would you offer that when he just talked about robbing and killing moments ago?

"I suppose you're right, Father. I'll come again. You're quite nice.”His voice held a softness it hadn’t had for a while; it surprised him. “It's sweet how much you try to understand.” Your breathing began to steady, and the slight riffle of your robes filled the booth as you changed your posture. 

“Do you get rewarded for your work?" Arthur asked before he could stop himself. There was no honest answer to you, at least not satisfying. Nonetheless, your stomach felt full of butterflies at the question. “I get many rewards for my work, Mister Morgan. I get to live in the church, and as payment, I get to provide for people. Meals, a warm place to sit, clothes..” your voice trailed. Now, Arthur did think you were a fool. Did you consider payment for your work to be more work?

Though Arthur believed you loved your work, he offered: "I just think such a hardworking and kind man deserves more than just praise. How about a nice night out for dinner and some sightseeing? Whenever you're ready, Father (name), just let me know, and we can go off on a trip—just the two of us." 

The booth's screen hid his features, but you could tell he was facing you now, taking your breath away. Arthur didn’t move his gaze; he wanted you to know he was looking at you.

This was against the booth's code of conduct. You shouldn't know his name; you shouldn't be looking at him. But you couldn't help yourself. You wanted to open the doors or tear off the screen between you. You want to see the man you have been speaking to for so long, even if it was only a few hours. Your hand reached up to the screen. “That’s a very kind offer, Mister Morgan.” your voice was soft and warm again, but something in your town made Arthur pause his teasing, “Maybe one day when folks around here don’t need me as much.. I’d love to visit a whole new town.” your hand twitched back. Fidigitng with the thin pages of your bible. “Even just today, the sweetest boy came in and ate like he hadn’t in weeks! Who else would’ve fed him and Mickey if I hadn't been here? He even wanted to bring friends with him next time he came to eat.” your voice trailed off, and you were rambling.

 “Plusss, perhaps these kinds of plans would be better made outside the confessional when we can speak face-to-face.” Your voice was light and playful, but there was an edge of caution. “What happens here stays here... but, you see, I do believe in what folks around here call 'stranger danger.'”

Arthur chuckled, the sound low and rough. The tension in the air shifted slightly as you smiled on the other side of the screen,It was a gentle smile. “Sounds like a smart rule, Father (Name).” His gaze flickered to the screen, though he couldn't see your eyes directly, only the shadow of his figure. But it felt like you could see him—see through him, in a way no one has tried to in years,

 "It sounds silly, but sometimes when I think of going to a new town, I can't help but imagine wearing normal clothes—like the rest of you cowboys wear.” Arthur's chest tightened at the idea of you dressed like him, Javier, or even Dutch. Truth be told, he was the one who walked Kieran to the church for a meal. Sat outside and had a smoke as you all ate. The pang of jealousy he felt when he finally saw such a fine-looking priest hug Kieran goodbye, he almost wanted to fight the new gang member for even getting that chance. 

Imagining you in their clothes made you look out of place in his mind, with your soft features and overly caring nature. Even so, it was tempting. The sun was beating down on you, and sweat dripped across your body as you worked. “Maybe we can arrange that someday, Father (Name).” 

The night had finally ended as you heard Arthur bid you goodnight, leaving with a soft click of the confessional door. You sighed gently to yourself as you opened your confessional door and noticed a few candles had gone out. Take the small matchbox from your pocket. As you turned slightly, a hand was warm around your torso, and a soft laugh sounded through the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You glanced up, surprised to see Arthur's playful grin, his eyes sparkling in the dim light. 

"I thought ya could use a little help with the ambiance," he said, adjusting the hat that now perched softly on your head. The playful gesture sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You couldn't help but smile, your heart racing as you felt the closeness between you. The flickering of the last few candles cast gentle shadows on the walls, creating a personal atmosphere. 

"Thank you so much, Mister Morgan; I was just about to relight these," you replied, motioning toward the candles. His presence was comforting, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. As you struck a match and brought it to the wick, the flame danced with a life of its own. It should’ve illuminated Arthur's features, but his face was still in shadows. He moved closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "Sometimes all you need is a little light to guide the way." Before you could ask, one of his hands slid down the front of your cassock groping, and his other, much rougher hand groped your stiff hard-on. 

“Just no sodomy, and God will forgive you, right?” His other hand mushed your chest around. You slightly cried out, ashamed of the subconscious humping into Arthur’s hand. Ashamed that in front of the son of god, you gave in so quickly to another man's advances, not even trying to get away from this pleasure you had never felt before.

While you had almost no exposed skin on your neck, that did not stop Arthur from latching onto it. His rough beard scratched at your neck as he began to lick the skin. His hands never stopped rubbing and smooshing at your chest. As you stumbled forward to a pew, your legs couldn’t hold you up much longer. Arms bracing your body up, you lost sight of Arthur for a moment, but not for long as Arthur’s hard-on pressed against your back as his grunts and moans filled your ears. “Could you forgive me, Father (Name)?” Your eyes squeezed shut, feeling overwhelmed at the licking and sucking on your skin. The sucking stung in a way that it felt like a punishment for enjoying it. His moans and grunts replayed in your mind as his hands went into your slacks, grasping at your crotch so desperately. 

He flipped you over, your ass pressed against the hardwood of the pew you were leaning on, and his hand was right back into place, toying with you; it was almost pitiful how you whined out his name. 

“How many Hail Marys for this Father (Name)?” Arthur had slowly sunk to his knees, kissing down your stomach, maintaining eye contact the whole way down. Your face was on fire as the cowboy’s hat tilted down with your head. 

You had never imagined kissing anyone, and tears threatened to fall as his clear eyes pierced your soul. His face still shrouded in shadow, he leaned closer, the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. The world around you blurred into nothingness. Every ounce of shame melted away with each touch. A small kiss was pressed against the warm skin above the waistband of your underwear, and his tongue playfully peeked out from between his lips. 

Gently pressing it against the tip of your cock. You choked on air as his mouth sealed onto the tip, lapping at it like a thirsty animal. You gently tugged his hat over your face, savoring the scent of his hair. Whatever pomade he used had a minty smell to it. His movements kept pace, and you could feel your stomach tighten.

The feeling of coming undone overshadowed the humiliation you felt. Tears burned your eyes as the tension in your stomach finally snapped, and his voice filled your mind, “What’s the penance for havin' a man suck ya off in church?” You wheezed against the soft pillow on your mattress. Your fingers gripped the smooth pillowcase tightly as you tried to breathe. 

Stumbling up from your mattress, the floor creaked under your weight. In your frantic movements, you dropped to your knees and reached for your crucifix. Holding the cold beads in your hand, you realized how much your skin was burning. The beads tapped lightly together in your hand as you began to pray, desperate to apologize for such a filthy dream. 

The beads clicked in your hands as you counted each prayer. ‘Please, help me, Lord.’ tears streamed down your face as your knees ached from the harsh landing. ‘Was this some sort of test?’ When you finally finished praying, the sun started to rise. You had to kick into gear, changing your soiled underwear to a fresh pair with a plan to wash your sheet with an embarrassing wet spot from where your hips were resting during your dream.

As you began making breakfast, you didn’t want to think about Arthur returning later that day or night. You certainly had two mouths to feed and didn’t want to disappoint them.

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Road trip; Winchester brothers x sister reader

*Author's note*

This was a request submitted to me anonymously so to the anon out there I hope this story finds you and that you like it. Took me a while but I finally came up with a cute little fic. However it maybe less of a raodtrip roadtrip fic and more of reader bonding with her brothers over a road trip but I hope you and all the readers out there like it nonetheless.

Taglist:

@queen-paladin

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@remussl0vers

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I was currently reading up on some books that the Men of Letters had in their library about Celtic mythology.  After that last selkie case, I wanted to read up more on Celtic lore and see what else there is out there since the personal Winchester knowledge is severely lacking in that department.

“Yo (Y/n)! Meeting room now.” I heard Dean’s voice call out as I heard a knock at the table I was sitting at.  I jumped in my seat and I said.

“Jesus Christ Dean, you know how I feel when you sneak up out of nowhere and just yell at me. Especially when I’m reading.”

“I swear you and Sammy with your books.” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Wouldn’t kill you to learn something new.” I muttered under my breath as I closed the book.

“What was that?”

“Nothing, nothing. C’mon let’s get going.” I walked out of the library with Dean following behind me and as we came to the meeting room, Sam sat at the globe table his laptop closed.  I took a seat next to him and whispered, “Any idea what he’s planning?”

“I have no idea.” He whispered back.

“What I have planned is no need for concern nor whispering now shut up you two and listen up.” Dean said as he took the seat across from us.  “Now look, we’ve been at this hunting thing for a long, long time. We’ve been everywhere across the country more times than most people take their entire lives. But when was the last time we gave ourselves a little vacation?” Sam and I looked at each other perplexed.

 “A vacation?” asked Sam.

“Yeah. A vacation Sammy. You know the thing that people do when they want to get away from it all—”

“I know what a vacation is Dean. But you know what we do isn’t a normal 9 to 5 job, right?”

“Yeah. But look at what Jody and the girls have been doing. They make time for themselves every now and then. Especially after finding Kai’s evil twin.”

“Question though Dean,” I asked slowly raising my hand. “Why bring this up now?”

“Haven’t you guys noticed that ever since we beat God at his own game, there hadn’t been as many cases to go to lately. Besides that selkie case, the last real case we fought in was like what….two, three weeks ago?” Sam and I shrugged in agreement. “So really, what’s the harm in the three of us getting out of this dusty old bunker and seeing the sights for real this time.” A bark soon came up and our newest family member Miracle came running up and Dean knelt down and gave Miracle some scritches.  “See? Even Miracle agrees with me.”

“You know it still seems weird to see you so affectionate with dogs. All these years and you finally allow us to have a dog.” I stated.

“I never hated dogs. We just couldn’t afford to keep one since you know we were always saving the world one apocalypse at a time. Now, this big guy can stay with us, ain’t that right boy?” Miracle let out a bark.

“He is right. I mean it’s been two days since the selkie incident and usually we’re out the door with another case or a new lead on our big bad of the year. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to get out for a while.” Sam said.

“(N/n), even if you say no you’re still coming with us cause we’re the oldest here.” Dean tried to out argue me but I told him.

“Did I say that it was a dumb idea? All I said was this was out of character for someone like you. But I wouldn’t mind getting out of here and seeing the open road without a constant threat breathing down our necks.”

“Then we’re agreed. Pack only the essentials and meet me outside in 10 minutes.” Dean and Miracle soon headed up the stairs and once the door to the bunker shut I said to Sam.

“He definitely has a destination planned out.”

“Oh yeah. But let’s just pretend we don’t for his sake.” Sam suggested as he gave me a gentle pat on the shoulder before heading to his room while I headed to mine.

We put out stuff in the trunk and I got in the back with Lucky at my feet while my brothers took their usual spots up front.  Once the doors closed Sam had asked Dean.

“Dean, since we’re going off the books for this particular trip. Do you think that maybe just this once you could lend the music control to someone else?” Dean gave Sam his raised brow and ‘bitch please’ face.

“What’s the number one rule in the car (Y/n)?”

“Driver picks the music, shotgun shuts his cakehole and piggyback rocks out.” I said petting Miracle’s fur.

“And this is why one day she’ll be taking your seat cause she doesn’t complain about my music choices.” Dean started Baby up and her engine let out that beautiful purr before Dean drove her out from the garage and we set out on the open road.

I’ve been raised out on the open road.  Being a hunter meant never really settling down in one place for too long.  I could name every interstate and exit ramp by the time I was 10 years old.  But here and now, this was different.  Seeing the trees whiz by, the clouds that spread across the Blue sky, the sun shining off Baby’s hood and rearview mirrors, this trip felt—comforting.

Soon coming through the radio was Kansas infamous song ‘Carry on my Wayward son’.  When the acapella voices of the band came through the speakers of the car, Sam couldn’t help but roll his eyes.

“C’mon Sammy! You never go wrong with Kansas. This is practically our theme song.”

“Our theme song?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Now suck it up and take it all in.” as Dean and I began jamming out to the song, him playing the drums on the steering wheel while I did my air guitar before the two of us began singing.  Our voices drowned out by the volume of the song but it didn’t deter the passion that Dean and I had as we would belt out the song.  Eventually Sam got in on the action as he’d play the piano part on Baby’s console.  When the guitar solo came up, Dean proclaimed.  “Take it (n/n)!” I then proceeded to copy the famous guitar solo as my brothers cheered out to me and the three of us closed out the song in a high note.

“What’s say about making a youtube cover of that song?” I suggested.

“Might not be a bad idea. Never too old to learn to play the guitar.” Dean said.

“I don’t think I’m cut out to be a youtube star.” Sam said.

“Sam, do I need to remind you of the time we went to that world where our lives was a tv show and all the fanfics my actress had both read and written for being a tumblr star as well as an actress?”

“No need to bring that up thank you (Y/n).” Sam stopped me as he held his hand out.

“You guys getting hungry?”

“Baby sis you always read my mind. There’s also a rest stop around the bend from the food exits. We can have ourselves a little picnic there and give Miracle some exercise, what’d you say boy?” Miracle let out a bark of agreement.  About a quarter mile later, Dean took the exit and we pulled into the first fast food joint we saw and ordered our meals before driving towards the rest stop about a half mile down from the restaurant.

Dean parked the car and once the engine stopped, we all came outside and stretched ourselves out after a few hours of driving.  I leashed Miracle up as we walked towards the picnic tables up ahead and sat down to eat our food.

“But in all seriousness Dean, where exactly are we going? And will we be getting a motel room to at least sleep in tonight?” I asked.

“My dead little sister, sometimes you just gotta take in the journey and not worry about the destination.” Dean responded as he bit into his double burger.  I dipped my fries into my chocolate milkshake and Sam said.

“I still can’t understand why you do that. Everytime you get a milkshake or a frosty you dip your fries into it.”

“The perfect balance of sweet and salty, as well as hot and cold Sammy boy. Don’t knock it till you try it.” I said dipping three fries into my shake and stuffing them into my mouth.  Miracle laid his head across my lap as he looked up at me with those puppy dog eyes of his.  “Oh no mister. Chocolate will kill you, but I can give you this.” I tore a portion of my chicken sandwich and fed it to him after telling him to wait and be a good boy.

“(Y/n), don’t feed him human food.” Sam reprimanded me.

“Apparently you don’t know what Dean does in the mornings after finishing his breakfast.”

“(N/n) we had a deal don’t you tell him.” Sam let out a disgusted groan.

“Seriously Dean? You let him lick your plate before putting it into the sink?”

“It gets washed in the end.” Dean tried to reason while I stood up and gathered up my trash all the while picking up Miracle’s leash to take him for a little walk around the back so that he could do his business.

“I swear I love stirring the pot to get those two arguing over the dumbest things. Guess Gabriel rubbed off on me in more ways than one.” I said to Miracle as I tossed my trash into the trashcan before we entered the trail behind the rest stop.  Miracle started off by peeing at the first thing he had sniffed which was a sing pole for the ‘please clean up after your dogs’.

I walked him through the forest trail and he practically peed at almost every tree and bush we came across.  As we walked my mind trailed back to all the people that we had lost, especially Cas, Jack and Gabriel.  Hell Gabriel was my Guardian angel, who would’ve known at the time but it did make sense.  Whenever he made an attempt to mess with my brothers, he always made sure to never have me be harmed or be involved in any insane scheme he came up with.

The day he was killed in the apocalypse world when we tried to get Jack and Mary back was the day I was most devastated.  Right until the end, he made sure that I didn’t get hurt and ultimately sacrificed himself to Michael so that I and my brothers could escape and get out alive.  I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn’t even realize that I had bumped into someone causing the two of us to fall to the ground.

Miracle had came up to us huffing and whimpering his tail wagging and I immediately got off the stranger and said.

“I am so sorry I should’ve paid attention to where I was going I didn’t mean to…”

“No, no it’s completely my fault. What I get for just standing in the middle of the trail.” He responded.  When I got a good look at him, I almost felt my heart go boom.

He was pretty cute.  Dark almost black curly hair that framed his face in both an adorable yet mysterious way.  He had hazel eyes that held both wonder yet mischief behind them.  His clothing wasn’t anything too extravagant, a Bob Dylan t-shirt and dark pants and he wore a few rings on his fingers and a metal bracelet as well as a watch.  And a jawline so sharp and strong it was unfair that someone around my age could look this handsome.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna exchange licenses or proof of insurance?” I finally spoke up trying to keep the blush I was feeling rising at my cheeks at bay.

“No, no, the fault was entirely my own.” He said with a charming smile.  Oh Christ even his smile was to die for.  Miracle then went up and gave him a sniff as he let out some happy whimpers.

“Miracle no down!”

“It’s fine I’ve got a dog at home just like this one and she’s an affectionate little girl. Although she’s not so little anymore even though she thinks she is.” He said laughing as he gave Miracle some scritches on top of his head.

You know how dogs can be trained to detect cancer or find weapons or drugs at airports.  Well my brothers and I have been training Miracle to detect whether someone was human or not and he always let us know by either growling (Werewolf, vampire, demon, wendigo, shapeshifter), lay down (djinn, vetala, reapers, witches), or to stand completely still but firm for ghosts, ghouls and everything else.

And with how he was acting, I knew I could relax since Miracle would never react this way towards a normal human being so I knew this boy could be trusted.

“What’s her name?”

“Dixie. Found her dumped at the side of the road when she was just a puppy.”

“I swear, humans can be such monsters.”

“Tell me about it. But with time, food and water, she was acting like a normal puppy should and has been for the past 10 years now. How long have you had Miracle, you said his name was?”

“Yeah, we’ve only had him for a year now but we didn’t get him as a puppy. Was left behind at a gas station.”

“Aww poor guy, well lucky for him he found a good family to take care of him.” We stared into each other’s eyes for a moment and it felt like my entire world was flipped upside down.  I awkwardly cleared my throat and said.

“Well we uhh—we better get back. My brothers will start to think we’ve been kidnapped or something.”

“Yeah, yeah I better get back on the road myself. Got a long way to Georgia.” He said in the same manner of awkwardness as he stuffed his hands into his pockets and we both stood up.

“Georgia? Funny you don’t seem to have the accent. No offense.”

“None taken, I’m just heading down that way to help out my aunt. She got injured pretty badly and I said I’d help her at her shop.”

“Such a gentleman, don’t see many of you out in the world.”

“Oh we’re out there. Just gotta know where to look. But I think it’s ungentlemanly to not introduce myself, I’m Paul.”

“(Y/n).” the second we took hands, I felt a spark of electricity surge through me and I let out a tiny gasp.  There’s no way I could be falling for this guy so fast could I? No, no, no it’s just a crush. Just like with Jack, it’s not real.  But then again I knew the term soulmates were real thanks to that one cupid who talked about the destiny of John and Mary Winchester being together.

Snap out of it (Y/n)! when I realized we were still shaking hands, I nervously took back my hand and apologized but he told me no worries and the two of us decided to walk out of the forest trail and we continued to talk to one another.

“So you went to college in New York to study law?”

“Yeah, One more semester and I’ll finally be done after seven years.” Paul told me.

“My big brother Sam tried to study at law school in California but unfortunately it didn’t work out for him.”

“Oh that’s too bad. Was it the stress cause there have been times where I’ve wanted to quit because of the immense pressure. That’s why I didn’t even try for Standford since they’re so strict.”

“I think it’s that school rivalry talking.”

“Or that.” We both laughed softly.

“So what’s the city of New York actually like?”

“Hold on, I thought you had said you’ve been to everywhere across America.”

“I have. But the only part of New York I ever went to was in upstate. I’ve never been to the actual city. Is it true you can pretty much get anywhere by walking?”

“Most part. But I take the train since my campus is in the heart of the city and I’m taking lodgings in Queens. You know if you’re ever in the area I wouldn’t mind showing you around the city sometime. I can show you all the hot spots and where to get the best pizza.”

“I’ve heard Chicago’s is better.”

“Okay that is a straight up lie! They deep dish their pizza in grease and I will proudly stand by that!” he proclaimed.  I giggled softly when I heard Dean’s voice cry out.

“Yo (Y/n)! Time to hit the road let’s go double time!” I groaned and Paul said.

“That big brother or eldest brother?”

“Eldest brother. I gotta go, it was real nice to meet you Paul. And again sorry about running into you.”

“Like I said, I was the one just parked in the middle of the trail. Take care of yourself (Y/n), you too Miracle.” Miracle let out a bark as he allowed Paul to rub the top of his head and I urged him back towards Baby.  As we came up to the impala, Dean asked.

“Who’s the boy?”

“Just get in the car.” I got Miracle into the backseat before following in after him and shut the door.

“He got a name?” asked Sam.

“Don’t you start too, I don’t need the big brother protection program on my ass.”

“Oh don’t you worry baby sis. Cause we’ll get you to talk one way or another about him.” Dean said as he got into the car before revving Baby up.

We continued the drive long throughout the night and by morning we finally reached Georgia by mid-afternoon. As we drove through the county Dean soon took the exit towards Blairsville, each time he took the exit that had that name.

“No destination huh Dean?” I mocked as I now sat in the front with him while Sam took the back to rest.

“Can’t hurt to make a couple of stops along the way.”

“Yeah well can we at least check into a motel? I feel so sticky and gross.”

“That’s good. That way no boy tries to flirt with you like the boy we met at that rest stop in Missouri.”

“Oh my god Dean not this again.”

“No, no, no. You gotta know this baby girl. Boys at that age are after one thing and one thing only. Besides in our line or work, he could’ve been a monster for all we know.”

“He wasn’t because Miracle acted the same way he does around you in the mornings. He didn’t give any of his training cues when he smelled Paul.”

“Paul? Who names their kid Paul?”

“Dean knock it off. Our sister knows how to take care of herself she could well beat Paul’s ass if he tried anything to her.” Sam groaned as he finally woke up from his nap.

“I can’t tell if you’re on my side or not there Sammy.” I bluntly said.

“Be thankful I know what you’re capable of doing on your own. You’ve been a karate master since you were 14.”

“I wouldn’t say master but I know a thing or two.”

“Still, I don’t want you talking or flirting with any boys while we’re here. You’re our sister and you’re too young for that shit.”

“I’m 18 years old Dean. I’m an adult and can make my own decisions.”

“Not when it comes to boys you’re not.” I let out a groan as I turned away from him and crossed my arms over my chest.

“You really are a stubborn ass.”

“Better to be a stubborn ass than a neglectful asshole.”

“What Dean’s trying to say is we’re this protective over you because we love you and we don’t wanna see you get hurt. Any more than you have in the past, especially now since we’ve finally managed to get our lives to normal since defeating God.” Sam piped in as I felt his hand on top of my shoulder giving it a loving shake.  I looked behind him and placed my hand on top of his.

“I know, but you guys also need to understand I’m not the same frightened little girl you found curled over her dead mother’s corpse covered in blood. You guys taught me everything I need to know in defending myself, so did Gabriel and Cas. Bobby and Jodi. So can I just try to live out whatever normal young adult life I can on my own and if I ever need you guys to bail me out or a shoulder to cry on, I’ll call you?”

“I can live by that.” I turned to Dean and said his name.  He let out a sharp breath.

“Just when I think I can out argue yah, you always tend to play the heartstrings card. And even though I hate chick flick moments, I guess I can agree to those terms. Just as long as you let me have a go at whoever pressures you into sex or drugs cause that’s where I draw the line of not getting involved.”

“Then it’s a deal.” Dean continued his drive through Blairsville and we soon saw the reason why he had wanted to come here.  All over the county there were banners, flyers and signs for the upcoming Great American Pie Festival.  Pies, parades, fireworks, food trucks, games and prizes were all promised and it all began tonight.

“Why doesn’t this surprise me?” asked Sam.

“C’mon Sammy, after all that we’ve done for the world I deserve me some damn pie! Now like (Y/n) said we’ll check into a motel, get cleaned up and then get us some pie.” He sniffled and I asked him teasingly.

“Are you crying Dean?”

“What? No I’m not crying, you’re crying.” He brushed off my statement as he kept driving down the road until we reached the closest motel.

“Dibs on the first shower!” I called out as Dean turned off Baby once we reached the parking lot and we all came out of the car.  Sam took Miracle for a walk while Dean and I got ourselves checked into a room.  Once we got into the room, I grabbed a spare set of clothes and my bath essentials and headed towards the bathroom to take a nice, hot relaxing shower.

A few hours passed and after getting ourselves comfortable and situated in our hotel room it was now time to head out to the main street where they would kick off the festival with the firework show and then by noon tomorrow they would have their big parade.

My brothers and I followed the crowd of people as we could hear everyone’s excitement for this year’s Pie festival.

“This is my destiny. I was born for this, I was made for this.” Dean muttered to himself.

“Dude are you seriously giving yourself a pep talk right now?” asked Sam incredulously.

“Shut up Sammy I need to get into my Zen pie mode.” Sam and I looked at each other and shook our heads.  The second we got to the main pie gallery where all the pie shops were set up, we stopped and Sam and I could see on Dean’s face that he had just seen the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.  “It’s….just so beautiful.”

“Just don’t OD yourself tough guy.” I said patting his gut softly.  Dean shoved me playfully and was the first to walk through the streets of pie.  “Shall we Sammy?”

“After you.” He told me and we both walked into the gallery square and took in all the sights the festival had to offer.  Balloons and banners all over the square, multiple shops and food trucks on every corner, hundreds of people all walking around already with their pie purchases and soon we found a bench to sit on.

Sam and I sat down and waited for Dean to find us with his treasure hoard.  As I looked around I said to Sam.

“Could you imagine us being in something like this during our many apocalyptic savings?”

“If it were up to Dean, we’d come to it in a heartbeat but at the time. We had bigger fish to fry. Now I think we might just end up going to every pie fest across the country.”

“I don’t think it’d be so bad. I mean we did have a good drive here. Not too much traffic, decent weather. Even Miracle seemed okay with the trip.”

“Yeah he did. And probably best that we left him at the motel, we still need to work on his approach towards people.”

“Tell me about it. Plus all this food, he’d be all over everybody.” After a few minutes of watching the crowd, Dean finally came in with a large box but he had to quickly spin around to avoid someone nearly knocking it over.  He gave the man his best death glare as he came over and sat on the opposite of Sam.  We looked down and that box held at least eight pies all ranging in various flavors.

“Didn’t I tell you not to OD? At this point all them pies will put you into a pie coma.” I said to Dean.

“You know you worry too much (n/n). Plus I can’t have a little sister whose thinks pie is a dried up heave of dough. That is sacrilege!”

“I never said that. I just said I can’t eat pie by itself. Now pie with ice cream sign me up any day of the week.”

“I’ll tell you where the ice cream truck is at if you take at least one bite of this pie, by itself.” Dean then handed me what looked like a pumpkin pie smothered in whipped cream.  He tossed me a fork and I picked it up before standing up.  I walked over to Dean and just as I was about to plunge the fork into the pie, I then shoved the pie into his face which caused Sam to bite back a laugh.

“I can’t tell you how much I’ve always wanted to do that to someone. And it’s just as funny as it is in cartoons.” Sam and I both soon started laughing as he high fived me.

“Funny.” Dean said as the pie finally fell from his face.  “Real funny there kid.”

“Hey Dean, you got a little something there on your face.” Teased Sam as Dean gave him his bitch face before Sam started bursting out laughing and I walked off shaking my head snickering under my breath.

I walked along through the crowd and soon found the ice cream food truck and as luck would have it, it lied right beside a chocolate pie shop.  Vanilla ice cream and chocolate pie, oh hell yes.  I jogged over to the food truck and ordered a small vanilla cup and paid the guy what I owed before jogging over to Aunt Mina’s Pies.  I dinged the little bell and was soon greeted by a familiar voice.

“Welcome to Aunt Mina’s how may I—(Y/n)?”

“Paul? We’ll all be damned.”

“Small world ain’t it? You and your brothers here for the pie festival?”

“Yep. Believe me, you mention the word pie and my eldest brother goes crazy over them.”

“He wouldn’t have been the one carrying the box with eight pies including one of my aunt’s apple pies, would he?”

“That’s the guy.”

“So what can I get you?”

“One of your best chocolate chip pies please.”

“Coming right up.” he gave me a wink before leaving the window and called out the order as he began prepping the pan.

“So your aunt’s a pie maker?”

“Not to toot my own horn, but my aunt makes one of the best pies down here in the south. Even her shop over at New Orleans say that she’s the best damn pie maker they’ve ever had. But since her car accident she’s been needing help run the various shops. My older sister is running the main one in New Orleans while I’m helping out with the festival. Then of course my cousins co-own the shop up in Philly.”

“Wow, proud family business. What my brother wouldn’t give to have his own pie shop. Though if it were up to him he’d eat all the merchandise rather than sell it.”

“It’s tempting. I remember the first summer I helped my aunt out in this very festival. I was so hungry by the end of it all, I had eaten about five of her coconut cream pies. It was well worth the beating I took later that night.” We both laughed before my pie was finally ready.

“How much do I owe yah?”

“Nothing, it’s on the house.”

“Paul no I-I can’t…..”

“Consider it a first time festival welcome freebie.”

“You sure you won’t get in trouble?” I whispered as I took the pie from him.

“Who knows. But if you’d really like to pay me back, would you mind joining me in watching the fireworks later tonight?” once again I felt my cheeks grow hot and I said.

“Will you provide another slice of pie for me?”

“I’ll sneak one out if I have to.” He gave me another wink as he smiled mischievously.

“Then I’d be honored Paul.”

“Great. How about meeting me back here in 20 minutes? I get off around that time.”

“It’s a date.” We both were shocked at my wording and I quickly tried to fix it but that’s when I heard Dean’s voice say.

“What’s a date?” we both looked and there stood both Sam and Dean looking at us skeptical.

“Dean, Sam. This is Paul, he’s offered to allow me to be his escort to the fireworks show later tonight.”

“Did he now?” asked Dean as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Yes sir. Just as a friendly welcome to the festival. She told me that it’s your first time here at our little pie festival. Lots to do over just a weekend and it can get overwhelming.” Paul said to my brothers.

“I’m sure it does.” Said Sam with a curt nod.  I looked at them widened eyed and annoyed desperately trying to get them to remember our conversation in the car.

“I promise I’ll be the perfect gentleman and you two are more than welcome to join us.” Oh god please no Paul why did you have to suggest that.

“That sounds like…..” Dean first started off but Sam interrupted him.

“Actually we’re good. Fireworks really aren’t our thing but you kids go and have fun.” Dean turned to Sam but Sam arched a brow at Dean and gestured with his head.  Dean glared at Sam and he said to me.

“Be home no later than 10.”

“Midnight.” I suggested.

“11.” Dean negotiated.

“11:30.”

“Fine 11:30 and not a minute later young lady. And you, Timothee Chalamet don’t you dare try any funny business. Cause I’ll know.”

“Yeah okay Dean, let’s go before you get us kicked out.” Sam escorted Dean away.

“Wow. Your brothers are pretty protective over you aren’t they?” exhaled Paul.

“You don’t know the half of it. I apologize for them, I’ll understand if you don’t want to watch the fireworks with me anymore.”

“No, no I still want you to join me. I can understand protective siblings, you should see my sister. You know how mama bears are super protective over their cubs, well they ain’t got nothing when it comes to my sister. God did she ever used to embarrass me when I was a teenager.”

“It’s tough being the youngest sibling.”

“I’d toast to that. So like I said, meet me here in 15 minutes?” he said looking down at his watch.

“Yeah, see you then Paul.” I took my pie and ice cream and walked away still feeling that blush at my cheeks.  When I went back to the bench I had seen that both my brothers were gone.  I looked around but couldn’t spot them anywhere when I felt a vibration in my pocket.  I set my food down and took out my phone to see a text from Sam.  I unlocked my phone and read the message.

Sammy-boy: Headed back to the motel, had to check up on Miracle before the fireworks started. You know how he gets. Have fun and be safe, see you at 11:30 on the dot.

“Thanks Sam.” I sat down at the table and poured my ice cream cup next to my pie and proceeded to eat my dessert.

[betterfettered]

Ok but imagine if the Mc they got was religious.

Like daily prayers, church going. Pretty much full fledged christian ending up in devildom with literal demons.

•Religious!mc who devoted their life to christ getting railed by the demon bros (especially lucifer).

•Religious!mc who was saving themself for marriage can no longer do so after her nights with the boys.

•Religious!mc who wore a cross necklace clutching it around her neck as they get railed from behind.

•Religious mc! who prays for forgiveness after begging for more the night before.

(I’m sorry but corruption kink is top teir + first time doing something like this so idk if it’s like worded correctly)

Anonnamin this ask gels so well with another one that I got about a super sweet MC from my moon anon!

Alright, but imagine this. A cute little reader who is just SUCH a softie Like, they are the type to help old ladies cross the street, volunteer at soup kitchens, work at a bakery, always give the brothers random little gifts that remind them of them, and just wholesome stuff like that. But the poor bby always blames themselves for any problems, like they are such a little ball of sunshine who is always blaming themselves, it's quite sad actually. Like they are always trying to brighten everyone's day and smiling, but if someone even slightly raises their tone at reader, reader will start tearing up and apologizing. They are just such a sweet little thing, and like the entire school absolutely loves them and a lot of people see reader like a little sibling figure. Because of this the brothers absolutely love this innocent cute little reader who only wants to make everyone feel happy and loved, but then their are all the other students at school stealing away reader's attention and protecting reader when they see how obsessive and possessive the brothers are. (Reader has no clue though lol, absentee parental figures gang, don't know what healthy love is ✌) (If the brothers get born mad at reader, reader will cry and isolate themselves because "they aren't enough for them" and "they probably don't wanna deal with me right now", and just close themselves off) Moon anon 🌙

I'm gonna combine the two of them together into an ask about a super saintly MC. 🧚🏿 If you feel like there was something I missed feel free to send in another ask~

It's killing me to imagine a terrified religious!MC waking up and meeting real life villains from the bible LOOOOOL literally wakes up, is introduced to The Actual Lucifer, passes back out again hahahahahha

I mention a trans girl with a dick in this, I don't know if that needs a warning. If you read this and appreciate the warning, please let me know somehow. Otherwise I'm not going to mention this kind of thing again.

(Gn!reader x AMAB!yandere, please let me know if reader is gendered)(noncon)(violence against reader)(gaslighting)(exhibitionism)(drugging)(plus size reader 💖🫡)(blasphemy, but you knew that LOLOL)(18+ readers only please, mdni)(Please let me know if I am missing a TW)[This is fetish content and rape and abuse are disgusting and inexcusable in real life.]

Yandere!Lucifer would soon feel pretty protective over an MC like this, especially because he thinks you're so foolish easily taken advantage of. He would also appreciate how obedient you are, it's so much easier than needing to tell his brothers to do or not do things over and over again. In a sense, he would protect you from things that he would do to you himself: he's not going to let concerned students at RAD take up all of your time because he himself is going to take up all of your time. He's not going to let other people order you around but he certainly is going to order you around. Most importantly, he won't let other people force you to live your life one way or another because you will be living life to his exact specifications.

I think on the other hand that he'd be kind of personally offended by your brand of religiousness. It intrinsically paints him as a bad guy and makes his reasoning out to be unjustified which, even if it weren't a sore spot, contradicts what he likes to believe about himself. I think his real cruelty streak would start to show around how he dismisses your beliefs. The first time you earn yourself a bad punishment from him, he'll be determined to hurt and violate you in ways that you would not have been able to imagine before, shoving toys into you that are way, way too big for only your first time, putting chained clamps on your nipples and tugging them until you are hoarse from screaming, forcing orgasm upon orgasm onto you until you it only hurts, paddling you until you're shaking. He'll ask why your God isn't helping you, but no answer you give him will be the right one (earning a larger toy or maybe another paddle): the real answer is because you like what he's doing to you, it's what you've always wanted, and your God knows that.

Yandere!Mammon would be sooo bad with this kind of MC LOL He's such a scammer that he would completely take you for all you're worth. You'd both end up broke and in trouble because of him LOLLL He has a hard time admitting when he's done something shitty, so he might allow you to blame yourself for things quite a bit, maybe even use your low self esteem to guilt you for spending time with other people at school vying for your attention (I'll circle back to this).

I don't think he'd have it on him to outright force himself on you because you're so innocent and sweet. Instead, he'll probably slip a double dose of an aphrodisiac into a snack he serves you and wait for you to come onto him. Imagine always wearing a religious robe and, after being drugged, hurriedly yanking it up in a daze so you can dumbly grind on Mammon's thigh and grab his wrists so you can rub his hands all over your body because you have no idea what to actually do about being horny LOL After he fucks you until you're satisfied, he'll let you think that the entire thing was your idea all along. If you get way too torn up about your sinful thoughts and behavior he might grudgingly admit that maybe you ate something strange. Circling back to the above, he is happy to take advantage of your guilt and naivete but he does have a kernel of morals deep down.

Yandere!Leviathan would be obsessed with your purity and good heartedness. I don't even want to mention her in this context because she is a child but honestly your personality would align with a lot of the kinds of things he likes about Ruri-chan. It's the ideal magical girl: chipper, sweet, always trying to help others etc. He'd be quietly obsessed with your religious behavior: you might be praying and then look up and see him watching you, or when you are helping people with things in public he follows you around and tries to help, too.

Unfortunately, the more he becomes obsessed with your purity, the more dirty thinking about you sexually will become to him, which means it makes him all the hornier LOL You'll start to notice him staring at your body and giving you lingering touches on your legs and shoulders. When he finally can't take it any more, he will want to shield you from the corruption as much as possible. He'll sneak into your room at night with a blindfold, tie it over your eyes and tell you to just go back to sleep. Obviously you wouldn't be able to sleep through someone taking your virginity, so he'll just try to soothe you as you cry even though he's fucking you way too hard because of his inexperience. You feel dirty and bruised once he's done with you, but rather than comfort you, he'll apologize by insulting himself and saying how awful and wicked he is and how you deserve better. You are always inclined to blame yourself, so even though you still feel his handprints all over you and the weird slipperiness between your legs makes you feel disgusting, you'll tell him it's not his fault and wonder what you must have done to provoke him. Levi is one of those people who says "I am a bad person anyway so might as well do it again", so expect the nightly visits to continue. You'll spend them clutching a cross as tightly as you can and praying, sadly unaware that that is only turning him on more.

Yandere!Satan wants to study you like an academic subject and needs to know everything about you that there is to know, so he'd be very very interested in your religion since it's such a big part of who you are. He also doesn't have as much experience with the celestial realm as the other brothers, so is more open to hearing about what is in your Bible since he doesn't have his own beliefs about it. You would literally be doing "Bible study and chill" with him where he listens to you talk about God and read scripture, and you would be so pleased when he seems like maybe he is thinking about converting. After all, to you helping him see the Lord's light is one of the kindest, sweetest things you can do.

That's why when the "and chill" part comes in you would feel so shocked and betrayed. You're sitting on his lap, reading pages out loud to him when you feel his teeth latch onto your neck and his tongue move back and forth over the sensitive skin while he gropes you. Maybe you're confused about his intention, so you ask what he's doing while he pins you face down by your shoulders, pulling your ass up and against him. You'd be confused and trying to explain that this isn't pious at all when he tells you he doesn't believe any of that shit at all and never did, and the shock would be so deep you don't even cry while he pulls your clothes off and throws your Bible to the floor carelessly like it's trash. Like Lucifer, he's the type to ask something like where it says in your scriptures that you should cum all over his face while he gives you head, or to slap you and actually quote Bible passages about meekness to you when you try to resist, asking if you really even believe what you read to him.

Yandere!Asmodeus is going to think how innocent you are is so cute and try to corrupt you immediately. Imagine you have baked some cookies, and you are going to give them out. He'll offer to go with you and then right before you step into the classroom he'll catch you by your waist, pulling your soft body back towards him until his arms are smushing your stomach. Asmo will whisper with his lips against your ear that every one of these people who is vying for your attention because you're so sweet actually just wants to be the first one to breed you, that when you hand them cookies they just think about fucking every hole you have. He'll ask what hole you'd use for which person until you struggle to get out of his arms and run away.

But even when you're gone, you can't help but think of his question every time you hand out a cookie, or in gym when a girl tries to talk to you and you can see her cock through her pants you can't help but think you want to take her in your mouth because it would hurt anywhere else. It's embarrassing and flustering and makes you want to be by yourself, which is a perfect time for Asmo to come and find you, to yank your robe up and point out how aroused you are. He'll narrate what's happening to your body, explaining it's totally natural to feel that way when you want to have sex, and asking who you saw that made you so horny.

He'll do this as long as he needs to until you are begging him to help you with this feeling between your legs that's driving you crazy and makes it hard to sit still in class. When you apologize to god before begging him to fuck you, he'll tell you that there's no need to. God gave you these feelings so you could act on them. He wants you to feel pleasure.

Yandere!Beel would be annoyed with how you let anyone who wants your attention have it, and he'd dislike how you always trust your god to keep you safe instead of him. God lets bad things happen all the time, so in his mind thats a ridiculous system. Whenever he sees you clutching your cross or praying, he will demand to know what it is you're asking for and try to give it to you himself. He thinks religion and your cross is a distraction from your relationship to him, especially since he's met all the people you're talking about and none of them are that special to him. If he wants your attention, he just cuts in to where you are and demands it, even if that means picking you up and carrying you away.

Yan!Beel will always fuck you when his libido outpaces his sense of control, but when he hears you praying he'll be enraged. You don't need that stuff! He'll try to rip your cross off of your neck, but the chain is too strong so he ends up choking you by it. You'd better say that all you need is him, to calm him down. Otherwise, expect him to yank you around by the chain like its a leash, pounding you so hard that you can't catch your breath to pray or beg him to stop. After he cums he'll just jam him fingers into you, stroking you with his other hand until you say what you want.

Listen I love Yandere!Belphie being insane as much as the next cockwhore, but I think he would actually be really, really kind to an MC like this. He went to the human world often to meet new kinds of people since he loves learning about them, so he'd be really comforted by how sweet and gentle you are while also loving how you hold him while he naps and let him tuck his cold feet under you all the time. He likes your prayers because they put him to sleep and give him good dreams.

What would make him snap is the constant attention to other people. He's often waiting for you in bed, so waiting hours and hours just to find out you've been with other people would drive him absolutely crazy. You might be tutoring a few other students and he comes in, seizing you by your hair and slamming your head down onto a desk. You squirm and plead for him to stop, but he'd still rip your clothes off and fuck you in front of them so they know that you are his. Even while you're sobbing he'll say (loud so they can all hear) that he can feel you clenching down on him, so you must love it. You'd turn your head to ask the other demons for help and see most of them with their hands in their pants and their eyes smoldering with lust. The fact that you'd be in so much pain losing your virginity in front of a crowd that you struggle like crazy and pray to be saved just makes the show more interesting.

[aziraphales-library]

Y’all are awesome and I appreciate the hell out of this account! Any fics that are an attempt at a season 3? Preferably comedic ones! Thank you so much and keep up the amazing work! ❤️

Hello. We have a #good omens s3 speculation tag, so check that out. Here are more to add that have some kind of humour tag...

a place to be by kaiyen (NR)

In which Crowley moves back into his flat, Aziraphale has problems at work, and the Second Coming of Christ is but a stone's throw away. In the end, Crowley makes it to rolling green hills, leant against a stubbornly yellow Bentley. He remembers the first morning. He had slithered out of the ground not long before dawn, the dirt damp even before the first rain, the grass cool and crisp against his scales. And the sun had risen, jewels spilling across the great blue sky, warm and golden from the East. Crowley – Crawly, then – had wanted to follow it, had felt a great pull Eastwards. He went, too, until he found the ripe red fruit nestled amongst the lush green leaves and knew what they were for. It was luck, then, that the humans had left in the direction of the sunrise. Luck, or– ineffable. The sun rises over the South Downs, and Crowley finally wants to stay.

The Ineffable Shades of Gray (Good Omens Season 3) by altsernative (T)

After returning to Heaven, Aziraphale learns the Metatron's true intentions, finds himself disillusioned, and regrets his choice to leave Crowley, who has been working in the Temptations department. They reunite, and find themselves stopping the final war between Heaven and Hell and learning God and Satan's true intentions for the world and each other.

Demons are Forever by in_a_pickle (T)

After finallly finding the courage to tell his best friend his feelings, Crowley's dreams are shattered when Aziraphale once again chooses Heaven over happiness together. With ‘Great Plans’ afoot upstairs, Aziraphale discovers that the starring role he accepted comes with some unforeseen duties and that Crowley’s kiss has become something of a distraction. Crowley meanwhile is trying to come to terms with a broken heart and is trying to fathom why Heaven is so keen to have Aziraphale back in the fold. A mini adventure with our favourite group of two, written in case I get hit by a bus and never get to find out what happened next.

The Intended Effect by Esme_Abner (E)

A post-S2 fic that begins with a very sad Crowley and a conflicted Aziraphale and a surprisingly not-awful Jesus. It's all building toward our boys reconciling, because like everyone else, my heart is broken and I need to pick up the pieces somehow. And they might try to like save the world again, too.

(I just can't wait for) Season 3 Good Omens! by RCReveal (T)

After Season 2, I really needed to find out how Aziraphale and Crowley could get their reunion: a real reunion & not 'pretendy real'. They both have so much growing to do with neither of them, yet, being able to even say 'I love you' clearly to each other. Angel, what's going on? What kind of doublethink are you doing to still think that Heaven is the Good side & that you can't even admit to being friends? But you'll do anything to protect the World. Crowley, always planning on running. Sorry, but that won't work. If you had run at Armageddon there'd be no here to be in. But somehow, still a little seed of optimism. And wow! what you two can do together! Especially with a little help from old and new friends. So here's a story about averting the Second Coming with that great ensemble cast of characters in Heaven, Hell, and Whickber ST. Long set up, but then starts to speed up, kinda a wild ride from chapter 42 onto the end. This story is at about the same level of cursing, violence (well, maybe a little more Gaiman-esque), humor (definitely much more Terry Pratchett-esque) and romance as that of the second season.

There's a Special Place on Earth for Beings Like You by Kipje (T)

Set two years after Aziraphale leaves to become Supreme Archangel. It’s the Second Coming. Aziraphale is tasked with finding parents for the new Christ and returns to earth. He needs Crowley’s help, but the two haven’t spoken since the break-up. Crowley doesn’t want to forgive the angel, nor does he want to help out with the baby, but he finds it incredibly hard not to get involved. OR Aziraphale and Crowley raise the new Christ together; a girl named Eden. While they try to sort out their feelings and avert the apocalypse. Excerpt: Crowley had always assumed Aziraphale would want to run away with him in order to be together. He had never bothered to ask if there was a version where they would be an ‘us’ on earth. What was Aziraphale supposed to do once they arrived in the Alpha Centauri system. How would that even work with his book collection? Sure, Aziraphale had fallen in love with the demon – and it had taken him a while to be able to admit that – but he had also fallen in love with humanity, with earth. He had never planned on leaving. He knew earth would be no fun without his favourite wily serpent, but that did not mean he would be fine anywhere as long as Crowley was there. He had standards.

- Mod D

[bibibbon]

I made a huge mistake in going to the MHA subreddit. The braindead takes on 427 have me convinced I'm stuck in a parallel universe where we're reading a completely different story:

"It's great seeing Deku play therapist with the LOV, but all it seems to have done is make things worse!" A) Izuku shouldn't be having to play therapist to begin with, considering he's a 16 year old kid. B) most of the LOV don't see anything they did as wrong, so idk what the fuck Izuku can do about that. Also, WHY AREN'T PEOPLE HELPING IZUKU WITH HIS OWN GODDAMN FEELINGS?!

Apparently Bakugou killed Kurogiri, and there's absolutely ZERO reaction to it both in and out of universe. So of fucking course Izuku is a murderer, but not their precious Bakugou 🥱.

"I feel like Hori's really underrated as a writer!" Horikoshi doesn't know Show Don't Tell, how to actually develop characters, and how to craft actual stakes in the narrative from a hole in the ground. Also, MHA is one of the most popular mangas worldwide, so you're not even using underrated right.

"I feel like Horikoshi sees our discussions and then implements them in the story!" This I can kind of agree with, considering how much y'all hate Izuku and worship Bakugou. But on the other hand, I really doubt Horikoshi thinks the MHA subreddit is as important as you think it is.

"Bakugou's totally going to ask Izuku to start their own hero agency together at the end!" Jesus fucking Christ, just say you hate Izuku. How would that be a great ending for him? He not only has to see the source of his low self esteem and borderline suicidal feelings achieving the dream he'll now never have, but you want them to WORK together?!

@nutzgunray-lvt 👋

Well a lot of the time looking into Reddit is always a mistake unless you're asking a very niche question and you get an answer from 9 years ago or something.

I feel like a lot of people whether that be in universe or in fandom forget that izuku is a 16 year old child soldier. Izuku is more than a decade younger than a lot of the villains in the leauge. He is a child who has been exploited by the system and abused. We have seen in 425 izuku try and talk to someone but simply get brushed aside and while I don't blame shoto or ochako for doing that as they probably didn't mean it and are traumatised themselves it kinda of shows how much this has effected izuku. Also this doesn't help BECAUSE HORI GAVE US NO FLIPPING INTROPSECTION ON IZUKU'S BIT AGAIN!! Also Iam not sure if it's just me but Izuku's eye bags are heavily prominent in this chapter especially when he is talking to spinner.

The fandom especially the lov stans side of it love babayifying the actions of the leauge and hyper fixating on the humane soft side they may have while completely ignoring the horrible actions they commited. I talk about this better in one of @palesweetscherryblossom asks

I still can't believe that bk may of killed kurogiri. I don't even know when that happend and I checked the wiki but it says that kurogiris status is unconfirmed so I will be waiting until the last chapter to fully acknowledge if kurogiri is dead or not. However this brings up the point that the fandoms is being quite hypocritical if they're calling izuku a murder but not bakugo. They both killed people but for some reason it's izuku thats put into public light and bashing instead of all the other characters that have killed in the series including villains.

Yeah sometimes it feels like hori is looking at discussions of his series and implementing ideas but I think that goes more for his Japanese fans than us to be honest because after all they're his target demographic. I remember when I first joined Tumblr one of my earliest posts talked about how horikoshi's writing decisions were heavily influenced by his fans which may or may not be true.

At this point IAM convinced that izuku isn't getting a proper happy ending. Every time I think it can't get worse it does. Just by your comment of them starting an agency together haunts me just like the possibility that bk may become the number one hero

[asktheumbrellas]

Hey, Diego!

Did you ever tell the others about the time when Stanley accidentally killed Klaus with that spear gun?

No?

Well, have a good day and happy late birthday, Hargreeves family! :)

══════════════════════

The living room is full of life again. Claire sleepily sits in Allison’s lap as she braids her hair while Klaus watches in awe.

Diego gathers the cards up after their final round of poker. Lila occasionally sneaks one to throw at Five, temporarily borrowing Diego’s aim to hit it perfectly on his nose. He ignores her.

Luther is staring at the askbox, pondering about how notes can appear out of thin air. Viktor lies on his back, staring up at the ceiling. It seems impossibly far away.

Five gets especially annoyed after Lila’s ninth card and abruptly throws his book down. “Hey, Luther!” he calls with a false cheer that’s almost terrifying for him.

Luther looks up. “What?”

Five gives him a devilish smile and asks, “Have you ever played fifty-two card pickup?”

Diego chuckles as he picks up the last few cards and stacks them neatly.

“Never heard of it. Is it fun?”

“Oh, it’s a blast.”

Luther doesn’t pick up on the sarcasm dripping from Five’s response and lights up. “Well, how do you play?”

Five takes the deck of cards with a mischievous look in his eyes and launches them into the air, engulfing Luther.

“Wait, I don’t get it.” He looks around at the mess, his face wrinkled in confusion.

Five leans back again, picking up his book with a satisfied grin. “Now you pick ‘em up.”

“That doesn't sound very fun.”

“Well, they’re not gonna pick themselves up.”

Drained of his enthusiasm, Luther begins to gather the cards. The box spins in the center of the coffee table and Viktor reaches for the note to read it aloud.

As the last word is spoken, silence falls again. Luther pauses his collecting of the cards. Five slowly lowers his book, brows furrowed. Allison stops braiding and Viktor turns to stare at Diego.

“Right, that happened.” Lila doesn't even blink.

Five sits up, setting his book down. “Stan killed Klaus?”

“Yeah, remember? Speargun to the chest? I was doing shots with you guys less than ten minutes later. No biggie.” Klaus waves a nonchalant hand and turns to Diego, who stares at the ground with overwhelming guilt. “Hey, forgive and forget, right?”

Diego looks up at him. “Uh… yeah.”

“And, actually, that particular death led me to meet my mom. So Amish, and so very kind. And the menudo…” he trails off, “… was just phenomenal. 10/10 stars.”

“Lila and Diego’s kid was the reason you had a gaping hole in your chest?” Luther looks puzzled.

Klaus has a goofy smile. “Yeah, it happens. Thank Christ I’m immortal, right?” he laughs to himself as if it were the most casual thing in the world.

“Wait, your mom? You got to meet her?” Viktor asks curiously.

“Yeah. She’s called Rachel. From Pennsylvania.” He looks at his nails nonchalantly, completely missing the astonishment on his siblings’ faces. “Actually, she told me that I had already died 56 times before dear old Reg had even started reanimation trials! Can you believe that?”

Allison looks down at Claire and continues braiding. “Claire, honey, never kill any of your uncles, okay? Especially the ones that aren't immortal.”

“Listen, alright?” Diego gains a sudden confidence as he looks to each of his shocked siblings, “He wasn’t even our kid. We were practically babysitting. And, look at Klaus! He’s not even upset!”

Klaus looks at his niece fondly. “Yeah, Claire-bear, I’m fine, so you can kill me as many times as you like. I don’t mind having a chat with God every once in a while. Sometimes, she even lets me ride her bike.”

══════════════════════

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 407: Wait Why Are You Running Away

Previously on BnHA: Kacchan figured out how to control his quirk upgrade and was totally chill and normal about it. Definitely not terrifying at all. He actually spent the entire chapter smiling and laughing like the wholesome little boy he is. I don’t know why Kid For One is so freaked out about it. He even politely introduced himself using his childhood nickname. Clearly he just wants to be friends with you, KFO!

Today on BnHA: Horikoshi is all “sorry to keep you waiting, here’s the AFO and Yoichi flashback you ordered at long last” and proceeds to serve a nightmarish stew of HUMAN MISERY and RATS and STABBING and CARNAGE and SO MUCH MURDER and THE SINGLE MOST FUCKED-UP CASE OF CODEPENDENCY ANYONE HAS EVER WRITTEN. I was not even remotely prepared for any of this, and if anyone else claims that they were, I will call you a liar to your face. If this chapter had a mouth it would scream. Or just sob, ceaselessly and uncontrollably. I’m really glad Horikoshi is on break next week because that man needs to take a fucking nap. My god.

okay WOW

anyone else read the first two words and just immediately say to themselves, “oh okay, so it’s gonna be one of those chapters”? I mean, I guess we were due for a darker chapter after last week’s Kacchan Comedy Tour. but idk, I just wasn’t expecting “homeless sick prostitute with a drinking problem” levels of dark

AND SHE’S PREGNANT?!

what exactly is this manga rated again? doesn’t this backstory seem just a little bit raw for the impressionable kiddos??

has anyone actually checked in on Horikoshi recently? you know, just to make sure he is okay??

what a fun and wholesome manga this is

the lil baby arm covered in blood with the AFO hole on the palm. lying next to the dead mom hand. what an image to sear into our minds. I guess it’s been a while since he killed any dogs. gotta keep us on our toes somehow

also wasn’t expecting AFO and Yoichi to be twins! that puts an interesting spin on their relationship, because it’s usually a closer bond than even regular siblings. especially with all of that delightful shared trauma from a young age!!

yes, exactly

ohhhh this chapter is gonna hurt me, isn’t it. okay. ooooooookay. let’s do this

OH I’M SORRY, THERE’S MORE?!

Horikoshi my dude. you do realize that their mom dying in childbirth and the two of them just barely surviving and growing up as street orphans would have already been MORE than tragic enough, backstory-wise. you did not have to turn this into a freaking horror show with RATS TRYING TO EAT THEIR NEWBORN SELVES jesus christ

and THAT’S where you chose to put a one year timeskip?!

what the fuck am I reading here, you guys. no please tell me, I am actually desperate to understand

so the narrator is saying that some of the quirks manifested later in life, in “pubescent and pre-pubescent stages”, which is interesting because it’s the first time I can recall hearing about someone actually manifesting a quirk that late. maybe Deku’s old OFA cover story was more plausible than I realized

anyway so eventually it occurred to everyone that they should maybe freaking study this shit, idk. and eventually the researchers concluded that the superpowers came from a new gene that apparently isn’t human. and upon hearing that, society apparently lost its freaking mind. which is fascinating to me because it implies that the turning point wasn’t actually the superpowers themselves, but the realization of what it meant

like, so they were apparently fine with it when they thought it was a “mysterious disease”, but somehow it hit different when they learned it wasn’t actually a sickness at all, but instead the Next Step in Evolution. and it became an “us vs them” thing, as opposed to a “we have to cure these poor people” thing. damn

anyway so now Japan is a dystopia and we’re cutting to a big crowd of merc-looking dudes who are getting ready to attack some “meta freaks”, how lovely

but who is this figure in the shadows

I ask politely, as if it wasn’t already beyond obvious that this is AFO about to wreck some people’s shit

ohhhhh my god lmao

hopefully Katsuki and Deku can take the present day AFO out before he winds up looking like this. because this little fella is clearly demonic and idk if anyone can stop him

you all don’t understand. you need to run the fuck away right now

oh shit it’s already too late for them

it’s too late for any of us. it’s over. it’s all fucking over

((((；゜Д゜)))

AFO I am putting the manga down. I am backing away slowly with my hands in the air. I mean you no harm. please for the love of god have mercy

holy

“you see, we told you he wasn’t human” okay Scientific Research Group, you know what?? you win this round I guess

“HE WAS LITERALLY EVIL FROM BIRTH” HORIKOSHI SERIOUSLY ARE YOU OKAY??

HE WAS BORN AN ARROGANT BABY is literally the most terrifying sentence I have ever read

what the entire fuck

it’s a gorgeous sunny mid-November afternoon outside my window. but no matter how hard it tries, the light cannot reach this place

what kind of moron would throw a can of soda at him. officially the stupidest person we have ever seen in this manga

OH MY GOD OF COURSE IT’S HIM LMAO

(ETA: how come baby Yoichi has clothes that fit him perfectly but baby AFO is just stomping around wearing a tablecloth.)

BABY YOICHI. OH MY GOD. HOW THE HELL DID YOU GROW UP TO BE SANE AND KIND AND GOOD. THAT’S MY QUESTION THAT I NEED ANSWERED RIGHT NOW. YOU ARE LITERALLY A MIRACLE. YOU ARE AN IMPOSSIBILITY, DO YOU KNOW THAT

small and weak, but also so, so cute. all of the cuteness genes went straight to him. no wonder AFO was jealous

(ETA: just want to press pause for a second to speculate about what type of twins AFO and Yoichi are, since it has some relevance to the story, and especially to the OFA/AFO quirk lore. so! at first glance the two of them would appear to be fraternal twins, just based on the fact that they have very different appearances, and also the fact that Yoichi doesn’t have the AFO quirk – no holes in his hands, etc. identical twins are born from the same fertilized egg, so in theory they would both have the same sequence of DNA, which means Yoichi would have had the same quirk as AFO. but that doesn’t appear to be the case. so all of that points to them being fraternal, not identical.

on the other hand, there is one piece of evidence in this chapter that does support them being identical twins, and that’s the fact that per the narration, AFO absorbed most of the nutrients from their mother. a few minutes of google fu informed me that this condition is relatively rare, and only happens in cases where two twins share a placenta, which typically is only the case for identical twins. HOWEVER, for what it’s worth, there have also been rare instances where two fraternal twin placentas fuse together and become a single placenta. AND this apparently also increases the chances of one of the twins gaining more of the nutrients and causing the other twin to have a lower birth weight.

so based on the evidence here, my conclusion is that the two of them are most likely fraternal twins with a case of placental fusion. besides, you can’t tell me that stealing his baby brother’s placenta while the two of them are literally still in the womb doesn’t sound like exactly the type of BS that fetus!AFO would pull, lol.)

HEY!?!

okay?!?!?! well to be fair he did throw that soda at him

oh my god this is so fucked up. in like the best and worst way possible

I genuinely couldn’t ask for a better AFO backstory. it’s so incredibly twisted, and you actually do feel sorry for him. or at least I do. but it’s also beyond clear that this kid was FUCKED UP BEYOND ALL REASON right from the get go. zero goodness in him. literally doesn’t see other people as people. sees them as possessions only. things to rule over. not other thinking, feeling human beings. and that includes his own little brother

but. even if it’s not actually what I would call love, there’s still... attachment, there. it’s the closest he can get to actually caring about someone. guh. just, somehow they have both managed to humanize him, and at the same time made him less human than ever. this manga, man. this fucking manga, though

lmao and here we go. Captain Hero

you know, all those times that I made fun of AFO for not knowing how to read, I never suspected that the twist in his backstory would be that he LITERALLY DIDN’T KNOW HOW TO READ dfksjdlfkjslkdf

but seriously though. because Yoichi appears to be self-taught, and I can’t see AFO having the patience for that, and CLEARLY no one else was around to teach him, sooooo...

oh my goodness it’s actually getting wholesome up in here

what a good fucking boy. poor AFO. fuck me, I can’t help it. it’s not your fault you’re the world’s greatest monster you poor bastard

now we’re cutting to THREE YEARS LATER. okay

is he going to declare war on the glowing baby

typical teenager concerned about nothing but likes and view counts. AFO you would be so much happier if you stopped worrying about all of that and just focused on your own growth

oh, lol. well that was quick

(ETA: r.i.p. Damien.)

“this guy had more instagram followers than me. so I killed him” honey. sweetie pie. you need therapy

omfg

all this time I was wondering who AFO’s middle school lit teacher was who had failed so spectacularly at teaching him reading comprehension. and it was YOICHI ALL ALONG. omg

“and, presumably, that’s how it always was and always will be.” dude. can you imagine listening to AFO’s oral book report on A Tale of Two Cities. “ahem. it was the Best of Times. the end” buddy noooooooo

it was at that moment when Yoichi knew, etc. etc.

oh my GOD I scrolled down to the next panel right after this one and I just IMMEDIATELY DIED LAUGHING

“WAS IT SOMETHING I SAID” ffffffffffffffff I fucking can’t omfg

NOW THIS HUSSY IS STEALING HIS BROTHER AWAY FROM HIM NOOOOOOO

HE’S HIS!!! WHAT ARE YOU DOING!!! THAT’S NOT ALLOWED!!!

oh my god the hands. so wait, is this just the standard symbolic BnHA handholding, or are there More Levels To This. when exactly did Yoichi pass OFA on to Kudou. like is that why the sudden close-up and all that? omg

WHAT!!!!

OH THAT’S THE END, HUH? THAT’S THE END RIGHT THERE, AND THAT’S JUST HOW IT IS. I SEE. OKAY THEN. EXCUSE ME WHILE I PUT MY LAPTOP DOWN AND GO INTO THE NEXT ROOM AND SCREAM INTO A PILLOW

oh my god. and break next week too. this is what you guys have been dealing with this entire time huh. I understand your feelings now. godfuckingdammit lmao

[lostinsnow]

I am very curious about your lighthouse AU!

I'd love to share, especially since you inspired the whole story! Set in 1948, Obi-Wan's the lonely lighthouse keeper forced to marry and Anakin accepts the responsibility after reading his ad in the paper. This scene is from when obikin first meet in chapter one! (I promise the whole fic isn't this melodramatic lolol)

A sharp-sighted awareness previously known only in the heat of a firefight overtook Obi-Wan. For a single moment in time, the landscape of the world melted away and left behind nothing but the immediate knowledge of long limbs, and golden skin, and pouting lips. 

Christ, what miracles had he performed in a past life to deserve a creature like that stepping onto the shores of his lonely existence? 

Spikes of adrenaline shot through his bloodstream as the young man stepping from the boat finally raised his head, lancing Obi-Wan’s soul with the deadly blade of his intense eyes. Eyebrow bisected by a scar nearly as sharp as his jaw, he gave off the distinct impression of a centuries old statue, perfection carved into marble yet cracked by the wounds of time. 

The moment passed, and Obi-Wan blinked back into awareness of the other two and a half billion people on the planet. Chest tight, he fought against the embarrassment of so foolishly losing focus. Perhaps he truly was going senile, after all. 

“Hello,” he greeted with a step forward to the dock’s edge. Right hand thrust forward, he fought hard to regain eye contact. “I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi, and you must be—”

“Anakin Skywalker.” The blunt, cold introduction raised Obi-Wan’s hackles on instinct. His outstretched hand went ignored for a beat too long, every working muscle mocking the failed greeting. All the while, the young man’s hand remained behind his back, free of luggage yet unmoving. When the humiliation became too much to bear, Obi-Wan’s hand dropped to his side once again. Only then, strangely, did Anakin finally raise his chin again to connect their eyes. 

“I didn’t expect you to be so young,” Obi-Wan commented in a light voice, eager to occupy the tense air between their close bodies. His gaze traced the fine lines of a thin neck joining broad shoulders. Why would such a prodigious, striking thing like him restrain themselves to a life so small as this? 

Stood tall and stalwart as a sentinel, Anakin’s gaze traveled a clear path down towards Obi-Wan’s boots then upwards again across his wool covered body. Only years of critical inspection beneath the scrutiny of higher officers stabilized his confidence.

“I didn’t expect you to be so British,” responded Anakin, his voice deep and cutting. 

Yet, the comment only shook laughter from Obi-Wan’s chest. “Yes, my apologies. I surely hope there won't be any lingering colonial resentments between us."

With a clipped scoff, some of Anakin's icy rigidity seemed to melt away. Lugging his heavy bag with one hand over the boat's edge, he stepped onto the creaking dock and threw Obi-Wan a quick smile. "No promises."

[roxyteal]

(Jesus Christ it happened again. Mobile decided to not only publish the draft but also not save any of my edits. Pardon me if you see any appear) (Oct 30: Put context about his sobriety in the beginning, as opposed to in the middle out of nowhere.)

Today I am compelled to talk about Joe 5. It may include things I already mentioned in a different post, but those were in the tags so if any of this seems like not new info, sorry about that.

ANYWAY

Joe 5. Also this gets long so bear with me.

Joe 5 (but you can use either Joe or 5) came from a complete set copy of "Joe`s basics joke game". He was relatively fine as a person, with highs and lows. He's a bit of a snark but it's usually lighthearted. He even realized he had a problem and got clean, though... Alcohol still kinda haunts him as a result.

At some point, he and his entourage found the Webspace. On that day, they were among two others - a copy of Denied's Basics (the 10th apparently), and the 82nd Dave, who was a rogue for some reason.

Things were alright until it was mentioned that there was a pre-existing Joe and company around, and whether or not they'd like to merge with him, and so on. 5 thought that was weird as Hell and said no. But his companions said yes.

This resulted in 5 distancing from them since they're "not my friends anymore", and "I don't even know them anymore". And from then on, he resented the idea of merging, and that damned "Joe 1" for being so Goddamn happy. What's he all smiley about, he thought. The fucker.

But at least he still had his school. His empty, ghost town of a school. He quickly realized he couldn't live alone in that so he started staying in a tiny apartment, which quickly became a mess because of his plummeting self-worth. If only he'd just gone with everyone else, this could've been avoided, he also thought. It's his punishment for going against the grain. Being different. Maybe even "defective". Well shit, let's be defective. Why not.

He would have his code and model changed so that his hair would grow naturally. Somewhere in his reasons for this was needing to feel responsible for something, so he wouldn't completely fall apart. And maybe having it would make him feel better, whether about himself, in general, or both. He recalled that he considered asking his player about it in the past, but never got the nerve. Better late than never, he tried to rationalize. That's what people say to forgive themselves, right?

But the shoulder-length he requested (and wavy to boot, he didn't realize he had that...) spiraled out of control and now reaches his waist. Of course he couldn't keep up the end of the deal he put upon himself. It really needs the trim, but he couldn't be assed to try, and it disgusts him. The only good thing was how it never tangled. Game magic shit or whatever. But regardless of that, he looked like a cryptid, and he felt like one too.

At this point, his only comforts was TV, eating, and sleeping. He didn't need to do the last two obviously, but it gave him something to do, a distraction. When he ate, he could focus on the taste and nothing else. When he slept, he would stop being able to drown in his thoughts, welcomed instead into nothingness. When he watched TV, it numbed him enough to stop caring.

But even in his lowest moments, he refused to give in to his old addiction of... That. Diving back into it would truly mean the end had come. He'd rather be tortured to the brink before he had a sip again. Even now. Especially now.

He rarely ever left the apartment, kept the lights off, curtains to the balcony closed, and didn't allow visitors. He rarely ever left his bed, in fact. Sometimes he'd lie there and daydream about leaving. To where? Who knows. But this place was so painful to live in because everyone else has it great and he's got nothing so it's like... Just leave. But where?

He'd ponder it. Maybe just go out that tunnel and see where the Internet busses take him. Leave it up to fate. Maybe he'll find a nice little NeoCities domain. That whole area's so fuckin' large, there had to be a place where even 5, a worthless piece of shit, could fit right in! Yeah...

But he never gets out of bed. Out of the apartment. To the entrance tunnel. To the bus stop. To NeoCities. He just lies there, thinking about it. And nothing happens.

One day, he realized he was running out of food. The only reason he'd ever leave his trash heap of an apartment. By this point it was a matter of looking presentable enough to go out into that bright, colorful, vapid world crafted by that... Uh, mask man, and his spooky associates. Or keep staring at the dump that is 5's living space and contemplate if he could live without the sensation of eating. He still had his two other trusty vices, is it okay to lose one?

But, fuck. He loved the instant noodles. The frozen meals. The rice cups he could drizzle a little soy onto. And all the other kinds of convenient, packaged stuff. Goddammit.

So, he stepped around the trash, and next he knew, he was out the door. Fine. Fine. Fine! He'll get so much, he'll never have to come out again!

But as soon as he was outside the building, hair almost encasing his torso like a shroud, something shifted. Today's the day he's going to leave. Yeah. He'll get this done, pack up, make a pitstop to Vincent's or whatever pretentious name that supernatural son of a bitch had, flip off the gaudy building, then head straight for the tunnel. If he had time, he might even egg that fucking place!

This is it! God, it'd been so long since he was excited. Genuinely excited. He wanted to hold onto this forever.

Mood improved, he carried on with his mission. He ignored the other shoppers, checking off everything he picked up from his list. It was one of his first lessons here, because how could anyone remember everything they needed? He sure couldn't.

Things were going fine, until... He bumps into someone. Baldina. And she single-handedly became the craziest thing to happen to him.

He barely recalled the conversation, but it led to her hiring him as an assistant at her school, despite his clear lack of qualifications. It seemed that like Mr. Strobe-bow-skis, she too had plenty of people under her thumb, in numerous positions. A whole network of them.

One of which, 5 got to meet while struggling pitifully with the coffee machine, just seconds away from having a breakdown right then and there. This guy called himself, er, "I'm never"? But one word. Okay sure whatever. And in spite of 5's threatening tones and verbiage, Imnever was patient enough to show him how to use the brewer. Even informed him of how Baldina takes her coffee.

So what's Imnever's story? Oh, he teaches art here. He's more of an animator by trade, but this suited him just fine. Huh. Well, still more impressive than anything 5's ever accomplished.

The three of them became friends. He wasn't sure how that was possible, but finally he had a reason to go outside more often, instead of stewing in his own suffering for weeks at a time. In fact, slowly that poor excuse of an apartment turned into something a little more decent. It wasn't super tidy, but if Imnever, Baldina, or both wanted to visit, finally 5 could and would allow it.

It got to a point where, one morning, they surprised him with a present. A motorcycle. Apparently the two had taken his daydreaming musings seriously, about how cool it would be to have one. Also, 5 had forgotten what day it was - his birthday.

He cried. He couldn't possibly accept this. He didn't know how to ride it. He'd ruin it or hurt someone. All the classic, self-depreciating excuses he was told he was using.

But, as Imnever said, what you don't know, you fear. Once you do, you don't. Frankly that sounded confusing, and yet, these types of phrases helped him get this far, so... Just accept the damn thing.

The helmet was really cool, but he had so much hair that it wouldn't be able to fit. At long last, he got the trim he had desperately needed; up to just below the shoulders. But Baldina did it for him. Almost ironic, but at this point, who cares?

He forgot how light his head felt after the excess was cut down. It was a nice feeling.

Once he actually tried to overcome that fear of failure and took the chance to learn something, he was surprisingly quick on the uptake. And before long, he was zooming down streets in that badass chopper of his.

Maybe the Webspace isn't actually so horrible. But, thinking that, he reminisced about that day, where he was so sure he was gonna leave this domain behind and start over somewhere else. He slowed to a stop in front of Infinite School or something like that. Hm...

And he gave that treacherous high-rise building the bird, laughing manically as he drove onward. Of course he was going to stick around nowadays, but it still felt right to do. And boy was it worth it.

Life here had finally looked up for 5. Until, well... The demon showed up. But that's a whole other fuckin' story.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hey, big fan of your prompts especially the hero/villain ones! I was thinking if you could do one where the hero and villain are secretly in a relationship but then when hero's away for their duties for some time, villain who only does petty crimes is framed for a big heist and imprisoned and tortured severely by hero's team. Hero comes back and astonished at the conditions and goes to meet villain in prison. Can you please do a prompt with their interaction there, I think it would be very whumpy!

The hero remembered the cold.

It was a type of cold that would crawl into their boots and linger there, numbing their feet and turning their fingers blue. Not only was it painful, it was also a constant, a problem that needed to be fixed but wouldn’t change, no matter what they did. A cold that wouldn’t repent, a dark and very intimate thing.

Within the cell, the icy air was stinging in their lungs with each laboured breath and as they stared at the villain, they wished they were someone else. Someone who didn’t have to control their emotions, someone who could act without fearing the consequences.

In each corner a camera, observing the villain from every angle for 24 hours a day. No escape.

Not in this condition. Not when they were covered in their own blood, had a broken knee, a broken wrist, many cuts and more bruises than anyone could count.

“You deny the accusations made against you,” the hero stated. It broke their heart. It broke their fucking heart to proceed like this. Acting like a professional, not allowing themselves to look at their lover for too long, continuing the protocol — they cursed themselves for showing their obedience to their team. But what was their other option? Getting caught and tortured and with that, ending every little glimpse of hope?

“I do,” the villain rasped. “I deny it.”

They finally looked at the hero, exhausted and tragically struck down with pain.

“Is there any evidence to prove your innocence?” The hero’s voice was quiet as they stared at their lover who seemed in too much pain to move which in itself caused pain again.

I will kill them all, the hero promised in their mind. An imbalance possessed their actions and it was slowly — very tediously — getting difficult to gain control over their thoughts again. They felt themselves slipping on a moral ambiguity that began to glorify gruesome acts of violence.

They were afraid that if they fell, they’d never return to their old self.

“I was with my spouse that night,” the villain said. “Though I doubt they will make any kind of statement. I wouldn’t let them either.”

Christ, the hero was ready, was so ready. Guilt ate them alive, made a meal of them and had fun while devouring them. The guilt and the anger were a perfectly septic mixture to foretell their grand fall.

“Why is that?” The words were sour on their tongue as they felt their throat swell up. Images of their laughing spouse flooded their mind. But with one harsh push, the hero was pulled back into reality and other images replaced the old ones. A dead villain. Killed when they were stealing. Murdered in their own home. Assassinated on a walk with the hero.

“I’d do anything to protect them,” the villain said. “If I needed to die to keep them safe, I’d pull the trigger myself. To make sure it’s done properly.”

“Would they do the same for you?” the hero asked. Too aware of the haunting cameras, they concentrated on the villain, put their whole energy on them and tried to find stability. But it didn’t help — their voice was still shaking and they were still too close to crying.

“Without a doubt,” the villain said.

“Then why aren’t they here?” the hero asked, trying to stick to the old patterns of interrogation.

“Because they’re good. They’re not a villain.”

“They seem pathetic. They’re letting you rot here,” the hero said and hell, they meant every word. Why hadn’t they come home sooner?

“I’m protecting them.”

“You mean you’re getting yourself killed for someone who failed to act.” Their dark promise formed a plan.

“Careful,” the villain warned, despite being in no position to do so. “It’s not their fault. My blood isn’t on their hands.”

“No,” the hero said, “but someone else’s blood will be.”

[thepartyponies]

learning about Divine Council theology really reframes Percy Jackson in a funny way, especially the part where they were like “actually ww2 was a fight between demigod kids of the big three, but we’re not gonna say who was on which side 🤫”

because when I read it originally in hs I was like “oh, so usually Hades is framed as the Bad Guy of the three, so are they implying that his kid(s) were the nazis? And the book seems to frame Zeus as being at least not completely evil, so maybe idk”.

But now it’s like oh so:

-in Deuteronomy 32 and psalm 82 and Daniel 7 etc God sets up a governing/stewarding council (pantheon) of angelic beings over the nations that at some point turns evil and starts receiving worship for themselves,

-in Genesis 6 these kinds of beings had half-human kids that were great warriors (“the heroes of old”) just like demigods,

-in revelation 2 Jesus pretty much says that Zeus is literally Satan,

-and also the nazis literally worshipped Zeus through occult rituals, reconstructed his ancient temple in Berlin, copied its architecture, and wore his lightning bolt symbol on their uniforms.

So in hindsight that whole scene in pjo where they’re saying that the gladiator guy in the labyrinth shows how “sometimes the children of the gods do bad things in their parents’ name :’’’(((( that they wouldn’t approve of :(” along with the initial vagueness was probably an attempt to salvage the whole idea that any of the gods or demigods are the good guys. To make it more palatable for the reader.

I still love the books, but intentionally or not they’re a bit of a psyop.

And don’t get me started on how Kronos and the Titans are Abaddon/Apollyon and the other Watchers. The enemies of my enemies are not my friends, you all suck, Christ is Lord.

[livingdeadmlm]

Low honor Arthur Morgan redemption with a Priest 4/31

Pronouns: reader is referred to as a man

Physical Sex: AMAB

How far are things going?: not full sex but some slight head and dirty talk

Warnings: bit of shame, priest reader didn’t think gay people were being fr, a bit of corruption kink, talks of previous parts Arthur has had, lewd acts in an empty church

Outline: Arthur has had a change of heart recently, but once he sits in the confessional booth with you late at night he can’t help old habits as he teases you, and not knowing better you internalize it.

What inspired me to write how I did: the crappy priest romance book I got lol

Other: hopefully I will make this a few parts! 3446 words 😭 this is very different from my usual writing as I wanted it to be more detailed and flow better let me know what you think!

Swearing chastity when becoming a priest was not hard for you. You never had the desire to lay with a woman outside of marriage. You were praised for being so devoted to God that you didn't consider marriage a life goal. Your devotion to God was more vital than the desire to get married, which you were praised for during your ordination. Something your brothers in Christ had expressed was challenging for you when traveling and helping locals.

It pained you to hear, but over the last decade, it made you learn how to comfort other men and women with their desires and maintain themselves for marriage. Giving tips and tricks, you were never truly sure worked but heard from others how much they did. Besides your unsureness of how well those tips worked, many men and women found comfort in you. While confessional booths were all about privacy and anonymity, many of the women you advised claimed to be able to tell it was you due to the ‘energy’ that surrounded you.

Once you stepped into the booth, one person after another stepped into the warm space and opened up about what they felt ashamed of. While you kept privacy, you did remember the voices you were hearing, and today was a completely new one. This voice was gruff; it must belong to an older man much like yourself.

A new voice, as well as being an older man, made your heart swell. You believed it was never too late to turn to God and find comfort in religion. With how stubborn the men in town were, it made you happy to see one come in and swallow their pride.

"Mother Superior sent me here; she said you could 'lend me an ear' on what's happening." A smile graced your face as you fondly thought of Mother Superior. She was a great woman, especially for the work she did and her enjoyment of it.

"Well, good Sir, what has been happening you wish to speak about?" a low sigh came from next to you as the man began to explain a recent change of heart he was experiencing. He opened up more and more as the time ticked by. About harming people at the start it was those who had been awful he noticed the bar for awful things was getting lower and lower causing him to harm people who hadn’t done anything wrong. What he needed most at this moment was not advice but someone to hear him, and that's what you wanted to provide. His explanations of almost everything he's been going through and what he put others through, if they were not scary and authentic, you'd commend him for being a fantastic storyteller.

He reached a point where he would hesitate more and more when telling you things.

"Mister, you don't have to tell me everything in one session, right? You can always return on a new day or even when I'm open later at night! Sometimes, people have things on their minds before bed that stop them from sleeping." Your voice was soft, not to push the man away but to let him know he had space to get comfortable. As you sat in the confessional, the tension hung thick in the air, almost palpable. Your heart raced, grappling with the weight of the man's confession. His voice's unspoken truths and struggle lingered, creating an electric atmosphere that made the booth feel smaller like without the wood separating you too you would be intertwined.

Though you encouraged him to leave and take his time when opening so much you found yourself drawn to the warmth of his presence, a magnetic pull that ignited an unfamiliar spark within you. His hesitant gaze and the helplessness etched on his face were something you couldn't see or know was happening. Still, if you could, it would stir something profound in your chest, an unexpected desire to comfort him beyond the constraints of your roles. It made you crave to reach out, to reassure him that he was seen and understood. The thought of simply offering a hand, of shattering the barriers between you, felt equally exhilarating and terrifying.

"It's not that, Father (Name). I just have a lot of history with women and even men. I'm not sure you're too keen on hearin' it." Had the booth not had a screen, you would have been a bit embarrassed for him to see you so red.

"Uh, I am not sure what you mean by history. Do you mean violent? We've spoken of that so far. I understand that-"

"No, Father (Name), you've never heard of men bedding up with other men?" Your stomach jumped. You had heard of the verse but have yet to consider it something people did. It's a struggle some men could have, and you never put much more thought behind it.

"I am aware of it on a surface level, but I can help you, as I have many other women and men struggling with adultery." A grunt could be heard on the other side of the confessional booth, and the man sighed, "Okay then, How about this, Father (Name)," there was rustling of the man standing up. "I'll be back about 11:30 to discuss this with you; the things I've done shouldn't be spoken about in the daylight." You craved to reach out and reassure him that he was seen and understood, yet the boundaries loomed large. He bid you bye as the door opened and shut, letting in a tiny sliver of sun.

His impending return felt like a double-edged sword. You wanted to be there for him, to help him navigate his shadows. Still, crossing into more profound, more complicated territory made you uneasy. Questions swirled in your mind—were you genuinely able to help him? Would your inexperience be what holds you back for good this time? You sat in the booth, an odd, uncomfortable feeling in your stomach as you realized you had to prepare for tonight's meeting. While innocent as it was to help a man find the light, it felt like something you had to hide. Meeting so late into the night.

As the sun set, you felt a stir in your stomach. You had your bible, attempting to find a proper way to go about the conversation later. As you looked, all you could feel was nervous, many thoughts swarming your head. Men had come in and described their acts with women, and you were more than clear-headed on the steps they needed to take. But this man, having already acted on the thoughts he had about men, made you think of sodomy as an old law you deemed unfair. To punish those for private acts in their homes. And if true love existed in the act, how could god punish that? Were there other ways to share love between men? That could be something to ask.

Nightfall came, and you were having a late dinner when you went to the confessional booth. Candles burned across the church, offering a gentle light. As you glanced up, you saw a large man enter the booth. Fearing you were late, you quickly followed his steps and sat in the booth.

"Good evening, Father (Name). I am glad you are open so late. I am glad to speak of these times."

"Of course, what about these? Relations are keeping you up, mister—" "Morgan." "I'm sorry?" "You can call me Arthur Morgan." There was silence for a second. You smiled, having a name for the mystery man. "Well, Mister Morgan! What about these relations keep you from sleeping?" There was slight shuffling from the man as he cleared his throat.

"I've stopped seeing men and women that way the last few months, but I miss it. At night, I can't help but want the warmth of someone else next to me, to know who's next to me, feeling their best." His voice was low and soft, and you subconsciously leaned close to the screen to hear him.

The gentle flicker of candlelight danced around the booth, casting shadows against the box. Arthur's voice, low and tinged with longing, pulled you in even further, creating an intimate cocoon that felt almost sacred. "You talk of these connections," you replied softly, your heartbeat echoing in your ears. "It's clear how much you crave that closeness." The moment's intimacy sent shivers down your spine as you leaned in further, the barrier between you both seeming to dissolve.

"It's not just the physical interactions I miss. It's the intimacy—how another person can make you feel alive and understood." You could sense the ache in his words, and your heart responded with an unfamiliar flutter. "I never feel more alive than when I have someone pretty exhausted next to me."

The tight feeling was back in your stomach. "Well, Mister Morgan, the only real sins you commit in these cases are ones of the flesh; God does not punish those as harshly as they are the easiest to commit." there was a chuckle from Arthur. "As I speak to you, father, something tells me you have no experience with this whole thing. You've never experienced this before, have you, father (Name)?" You laughed and shifted in your seat. "You got me there, Mister Morgan; I've never so much as had a girlfriend!" There was silence from Arthur. You could hear your name echo; his voice was so captivating.

"Though my personal experience or lack thereof in these cases isn't important when it comes to helping you." The church was hushed there wasn’t another soul in the church as everyone had long since gone home. Crickets chirped as the silence got longer and longer.

“I know you never mentioned that forgiveness from god is a goal of yours; however, I do think he will forgive! Just sodomy is looked down upon by many people as it's a part of an old set of laws-"his gruff voice interrupted your own, "so no sodomy and two men can lay together?" His inquisitive tone sent a pleasant spark in your abdomen. You sat in thought as you attempted to remember the condemnation of other acts when you remembered your curiosities from this afternoon.

"I do wonder, Mister Morgan, other than, um, sodomy, what else do two men partake in?" Your voice felt small and strained. It felt inappropriate to ask as if it was invasive. His laughter filled the space again, warm and inviting, as if he could sense the heat radiating from you through the wall separating you both. At that moment, the line between priest and man blurred, and the night deepened.

“Some men just like kissin' Father. Most brush it off as an in-the-moment type thing. They were ‘too drunk and didn’t realize.’ But they knew the mouth they were swapping spit with was a man. Maybe even some grabbing and rubbing.” You now felt incredibly top-heavy, as if your legs would struggle to support you if you stood.

You could only imagine what grabbing went on and rubbing. You felt flushed at the idea of such closeness with a man. Was this how homosexuals felt? An ache in their groin to be near a man, not for sex but just passionate closeness? Was the main thing that pushed you to this work not some blessing from God but just Homosexual tendencies?

But he continued, “Some men even love another man’s mouth on them. Did ya know that Father (Name)? A man taking another man in his mouth?” His tone was curious, but you missed his intentions in provoking you. Sure, he was here to become a better person. But even a saint would become desperate to see your face tighten at the most minor touches you’ve ever experienced. The slacks you wore under your cassock felt uncomfortable. They never felt so glued to your body. The extra fabric of your cassock gave you more coverage, but you couldn’t feel more exposed.

“No, I, um, uh, wasn’t aware of that, Mister Morgan. I didn’t know the options two men had when bedded together.” You felt like you were gasping for air as you spoke as if the air from your words was being sucked out of you by Arthur.

“Is there anything else that keeps you at night with these memories, Mister Morgan?” Your stomach felt tight. The atmosphere in the booth was intense and hot. While you wanted to help, you also wished things would. Cool down and not feel overwhelmed.

"I’ve just been feeling lonely. I miss sleeping next to someone most nights—someone who doesn’t leave before I open my eyes in the morning." His voice sounded sad, bringing the warm feelings in your head back down to earth.

"God is with you every night, Mister Morgan," you said, clearing your throat as you gazed through the screen that separated you. You could make out his side profile, but there are no specifics. "Of course, you can’t hug or kiss God. But you can feel His presence with you. I’m also here for you, Mister Morgan. The whole church is! If you need company, there’s always someone here during regular business hours." You heard his boots scrape against the floor on the other side of the booth.

"I suppose you're right, Father. I'll come again. You're quite nice. It's sweet how much you try to understand. Do you get rewarded for your work?" Your stomach felt like it was full of butterflies at the question. You did your best to explain that you received physical rewards for helping others. Still, the joy of assisting was reward enough. Even being asked that question was a reward for all your efforts.

Though Arthur believed you loved your work, he offered: "I just think such a hardworking and kind man deserves more than just praise. How about a nice night out for dinner and some sightseeing? Whenever you're ready, Father (name), just let me know, and we can go off on such a trip—just the two of us."

The booth's screen hid his features, but you could tell he was facing you now, taking your breath away.

This was against the booth's code of conduct. You shouldn't know his name; you shouldn't be looking at him. But you couldn't help yourself. You wanted to open the doors or tear off the screen between you. You want to see the man you have been speaking to for so long, even if it was only a few hours.

“That’s a very kind offer, Mister; maybe one day when folks around here don’t need me as much! I’d love to visit a whole new town.” Your hand reached up for the screen before stopping yourself. “However, Mister Morgan, maybe these plans would be better out of confessional and when I can see you. Of course, what happens here stays in here and will not be mentioned in our free time out of it, but I do believe in stranger danger!”

As you spoke, a playful smile tugged at the corners of your lips, hoping to lighten the mood. “It sounds silly, but sometimes when I think of going to a new town, I can't help but imagine wearing some normal clothes like the rest of you cowboys wear.”

“Maybe we could have that arranged someday, Father (Name).”

The night had finally ended as you heard Arthur bid you goodnight, leaving with a soft click of the confessional door. You sighed gently to yourself as you opened your confessional door and noticed a few candles had gone out. Take the small matchbox from your pocket. As you turned slightly, there was the warmth of a hand around your torso, and a soft laugh sounded through the air, wrapping around you like a warm blanket. You glanced up, surprised to see Arthur's playful grin, his eyes sparkling in the dim light.

"I thought Ya could use a little help with the ambiance," he said, adjusting the hat that now perched softly on your head. The playful gesture sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach. You couldn't help but smile, your heart racing as you felt the closeness between you. The flickering of the last few candles cast gentle shadows on the walls, creating a personal atmosphere.

"Thank you so much, Mister Morgan; I was just about to relight these," you replied, motioning toward the candles. His presence was comforting, and for a moment, everything felt perfect. As you struck a match and brought it to the wick, the flame danced with a life of its own, illuminating Arthur's features. He moved closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, "Sometimes all you need is a little light to guide the way." His hand slid down the front of your cassock, and his much rougher hand groped your stiff hard-on.

“Just no sodomy and God will forgive you right?” His other hand mushed your chest around. You slightly cried, ashamed of the subconscious humping into Arthur’s hand. Ashamed that in front of the son of god, you gave in so easily to another man's advances.

While you had almost no exposed skin on your neck that did not stop Arthur from latching onto it. His hands never stopped rubbing and smooshing. You stumbled forward to a pew, your legs couldn’t hold you up for much longer.

Arthur’s hard-on pressed against your back as his grunts and moans filled your ears. “Could you forgive me Father (Name)?” Your eyes squeezed shut feeling overwhelmed at the licking and sucking onto your skin. The sucking stung in a way that it felt like a punishment for enjoying it. His mo and grunts replayed in your mind as his hands went into your slacks grasping at your crotch so desperately.

He flipped you over your ass pressed against the hardwood of the pew you were leaning on and his hand was right back into place toying with you, it was almost pitiful how you whined out his name.

“How many Hail Marys for this Father (Name)?” Arthur had slowly sunk to his knees kissing down your stomach, maintaining eye contact the whole way down. Your face was on fire as the cowboy’s hat tilted down with your head.

His unwavering eye contact was captivating, exuding a powerful hold that was difficult to resist. A small kiss was pressed against the warm skin above the waistband of your underwear. His tongue playfully peeked out from between his lips.

Gently press it against the tip of your penis. You choked on air as his mouth sealed onto the tip lapping at it like a thirsty animal. You gently tugged his hat over your face, savoring the scent of his hair, his movements kept pace and you could feel your stomach tighten.

You've never even kissed someone before but now having a man touch you in ways you had never done to yourself, his mouth attached to you like a lifeline in such a holy place.

The shame you felt was overshadowed by the feeling of coming undone. Like a rubber band snapping tears burn your eyes as you wheeze against the soft pillow on your mattress. Your fingers were tightly gripping the smooth pillow as you attempted to catch your breath.

Stumbling up from your mattress the floor creaked under your weight. In your frantic movements, you dropped to your knees and reached for your crucifix. Holding the cold beads in your hand made you realize how much your skin was burning up. The beads tapped lightly together in your hand as you began to pray, desperate to apologize for such a filthy dream.

While you couldn't control it and you knew that, this hadn't ever happened before. The small wet patch on your underwear was cold when you finished praying, you could only ignore it so long before you eventually had to change them. Upon closer inspection your sheet also needed cleaning as you deduced you were also grinding against your bed when the dream reached its peak.

You weren’t sure how this would affect you if you were to ever meet the man face to face, he didn't need to know but what if he found out?

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Top 5 comics that aren't bat related?

GOD okay I'm admittedly so so behind on my non-Bat comic reading because trying to read Everything Published In A 15 Year Period is fucking TIME CONSUMING, but! but but but!!! I have some fun ones!! also as always these are not in ANY particular order!

Thirsty Mermaids (Kat Leyh, 2021)

first off: yes we are including graphic novels! that's just a honkin big comic! nobody @ me! anyway, I read Thirsty Mermaids in one sitting on an airplane earlier this year and it was delightful. it follows three mermaid besties who turn themselves into humans and go ashore in search of booze, only to get stuck when the party mage can't remember how to turn them back. what follows is a mix of shenanigans and genuinely heartwarming character development as the trio cope with being landlocked and try to survive capitalism. there's a high potential for a story like this to get cloyingly oversentimental, but Thirsty Mermaids struck the right balance for me the whole way through and never went overboard.

also, the character designs are soooooo fun. look at them!

2. My Lesbian Experience With Loneliness (Nagata Kabi, trans. Jocelyne Allen 2016)

MLEWL is one of those books that actually completely lives up to the hype and then some, and it totally knocked me on my ass the first time I read it. I didn't really know what to expect going in, but I was totally blown away by how boldly Nagata's willing to share the ugliest parts of her life through this reflection. it's so much more than romance and yearning (and that isn't even really resolved by the book's end! Nagata continues to struggle with interpersonal relationships in later books, which you should also read!), and it felt really refreshing to see such an honest depiction of how much being depressed and anxious and insecure can just fucking suck. but at the same time, Nagata's ability to turn all of that into art and process what she's experienced in a really levelheaded way as she finds the will to grow and change is really affirming.

I have to give a special note of appreciation to the actual sex scene and how intimacy is negotiated between Nagata and the sex worker she hires, especially the ultimate realization that sex is just an act and losing her virginity didn't really change anything about why she was unhappy in her life. as a sex educator, I really appreciated the honesty and sheer practicality of how it was all framed.

3. Nimona (ND Stevenson, 2015)

hi okay yes basic bitch alert I'M AWARE, but I reread Nimona last year to remind myself of why I didn't want to watch the Netflix adaptation and I was so right for that, because OG Nimona fucks so much harder. it's heartfelt but also chaotic and violent and funny and deeply jaded; I think when I mentioned it in my monthly reading synopsis here I described it as weird art for pissed off queer people by a weird pissed off queer person. and I stand by that! if you haven't read it already or if you haven't in a while, it's right there waiting for you with an open invitation to burn the entire corrupt government to the ground.

I know the word feral is overused and therefore cringe but christ, comic Nimona is feral. come on, man. just let her kill your ex. he's a cop.

4. Superman Smashes the Klan (Gene Luen Yang and Gurihiru, 2020)

I had to get one DC comic in here, sue me! it's not Batman-related at all! it's a really rad Superman story that takes place in the 1940s and loosely reimagines an old radio serial, "Clan of the Fiery Cross," the was pretty much a 16-part hit piece on the KKK that was hugely successful in tarnishing their reputation and getting membership to drop. how cool is that? in this version we follow Lee family, Chinese-Americans who have just moved to Metropolis and are met with harassment from the local Klansmen, contrasted with Clark, early in his hero career, still figuring out the full extent of his alien abilities. you get some really nice parallel storytelling between the Lee kids, Tommy and Roberta, exploring what it means to be part of two different cultures at the same time Clark is going through something similar figuring out how to be a representative of two totally different planets, and it all works out in a way that's really sweet. now that I have a friend who's a baby I can't wait until he's old enough to get a copy.

it's an extremely comic book-y comic but in, like, the best way possible.

5. Hawkeye (Matt Fraction and David Aja, 2012-2015)

I can't believe I almost forgot to list tumblr darling Matt Fraction's Hawkeye! what do I even say about this series that hasn't been said already? I love the way Clint Barton is a sadsack piece of shit who's repeatedly ruined his own life, and I love rooting for him anyway because he's just trying so goddamn hard. and also because there's a teenage girl who stole his name and gimmick bullying him the whole time. (Kate Bishop you are everything to me and you will always be famous.) there are costumes and crime fighting but it's first and foremost a slice of life about a life that fucking sucks but keeps on trucking anyway, and that's so up my alley it's not even funny. a lot of the humor probably feels dated now but fuck it, the series is iconic for a reason.

MCU, eat your heart out.

bonus because I wrote out the whole thing and then decided I wanted to include a different one: Paper Girls (Brian K. Vaughan and Cliff Chiang, 2015-2019)

I'd be lying if I said that the thing about this series that I love first and foremost wasn't the art, because Chiang's art is breathtaking and I'll read anything ever if he does the art on it. but it's also just a super cool twisty, time-bending story about four girls getting roped into some high sci-fi bullshit when they're just trying to finish up their paper routes the morning after Halloween and having everything go to hell around them. I really respect a series that is committed to being weird and doesn't really care if you don't understand what's going on for a decent chunk of the plot, especially because it all comes together in a way that's pretty satisfying. waiting to read the whole series in one big run once it was all published so that I could track all the little hints and clues and things coming together across time travel bullshit was mwah, delicious.

also more than anything it's a story about how you Do Not fuck with 12 year old girls, especially in packs, because they're metal as hell, and I'm really about that.

[enriquemzn262]

This! This is the one title, the one work, to completely condense the major issues plaguing the manga industry of Japan:

Genderswap: Why bother to write a good female character when you can just take a dude and turn him into one? None of the effort of writing a compelling and believable girl, and instead you can write yourself into the girl without issues, bonus points if you turn her into a pervert because of course you would, she's a boy after all.

Loli: This is a double-edge sword, on one hand, it's the same old sexualization of minors Japan just can't leave behind, and in the other, it's the capacity of having a sort of emotionally baseline character, as in, an underage girl hasn't have the time to mature properly, and therefore, is easier to manipulate, to mold into what you desire, hence why so many insecure men try to find the youngest girl possible, as it means she doesn't come with the "baggage" of emotional maturity that will allow her to actually look at the guy's own immaturity, personal and ethical flaws. It's Japanese society's social ineptness incarnate.

Romantic incest: Why bother to meet new people, when you can just date family? Meeting new people it's scary, it means you have to open yourself to a new person in hopes they accept you, and if they don't, it means there's something with you that's no amicable, and that's a fact many, especially socially inept people, are unwilling to face, therefore, family it is, societal norms can go fuck themselves. Basically another symptom of the aforementioned social ineptness.

High school: This story screams "high school setting", or at the very least, some sort of non-college education setting, as it's the default timeframe in which the crushing reality of japanese society can be avoided, if anything, this is the one topic in this whole clusterfuck of a story that can be understood, as it does really seem like in modern japan school is the only place where their terrible current society can be avoided, at least until reaching retirement age.

And finally

Long-ass title: Jesus Christ, I know creativity is death, but for fuck's sake, at least don't fucking try to use the title to describe the story.