#i want to make them suffer kind of. maybe. probably

[solsticat]

I always thought Tobias was at the worst point he was ever gonna reach at 12 years old. My last reread, I always pictured his life improving drastically once he was an adult (probably because that was the case for me) and had more control over his life. Although knowing what I know now about the sad realities for former foster kids (probably the most applicable real world statistic to his situation), I'm less sure. It's entirely likely he kills himself before he turns 30. Still not sure being an Animorph was overall better. (I know this post wasn't really that deep but I want to compare)

- We already know in a universe with yeerks but no animorphs, Tobias is infested, so I'm not going to go into that. Pretty fair to say that's worse for him than canon, and he dies at ~12 or 13 iirc. I'm just going to compare his canon fate to what his life might've looked like in an au with no yeerks on Earth

- What this does tell us is that Tobias is clearly vulnerable to joining a cult. The sharing isn't the only cult in the world. It is worth mentioning that Tobias realized the sharing wasn't what it seemed, and tried to back out (I'm not gonna find the exact citation but I do believe he pretty much immediately regrets getting yeerked, and even before he was yeerked he tries to run away when they try to push him in the pool) (Side note, this is related to the issue I always have with people talking about voluntary controllers. A "voluntary" who decides they want out isn't allowed to leave, they're just put in a worse cage. That's not consent. When most people say "voluntary", they think of people like Hedrick Chapman, who made a deal with the yeerks. I doubt that was really the situation for most of them. Most "voluntary" controllers were probably more like Tobias- got themselves into a bad situation, and were never able to get out.) So I do think it's fair to say there's a chance of Tobias leaving a cult if he did join one. He's a pretty suspicious person, and good at recognizing when things aren't benefiting him. The problem is that it's entirely possible that being part of whatever cult would be objectively better for Tobias than being with his uncle. So. Even if he realized what was going on, he might stay in the cult for lack of better options.

- Before the series starts, Tobias was neglected and (implied?) physically abused. He was also bullied in school. The loneliness of having no friends would've taken a toll all the time. I would consider that to be a constant pressure on him, while the ""worst"" (I don't like to gameify trauma but I'm trying to think of specifics to mention) occasional experience would be beatings from his uncle

- In canon, Tobias is constantly suffering an extreme amount of stress from the threat of a secret war. He's several times dismembered, shot, all kinds of things I don't remember (more so after he gets his morphing power back. The clearly stated ""worst"" thing to happen to him is his torture by Taylor in #33, and Rachel's death, both of which change him in ways he never recovers from. Maybe he could've healed more from the torture if Rachel lived, although who knows. Of the two things, I feel that canon Tobias would pretty clearly say losing Rachel was worse. I mean, she's the only one he doesn't sell out to make the torture stop. He definitely would've been better off never meeting Taylor. Would he have been better off never meeting Rachel if he had to lose her? I don't know. He may have turned out better adjusted; he had a chance to meet new people later if he had never met the other animorphs, but he was never going to lose Rachel and meet new people after that. I can't decide what Tobias would think is better.

- In both of the situations above, Tobias is pretty much responsible for feeding and caring for himself, and he is constantly struggling with his relationship to his self and his body.

- Tobias would've gotten a ton of FAFSA (financial aid for college) money, all things considered. He was intelligent and enjoyed math, I could definitely see him getting into a good college. If he made it through high school intact, he has a good shot of finding his people in college. IIRC he would've been that age around 2003, at which time mental health talk was... not great, but a university in California probably would be one of the better places to be for ill, visibly queer kid. This seems like the best outcome imo. He could live a relatively normal life if he found a supportive social circle in young adulthood and got a decent career.

- Alternatively: "Young men in California who were in foster care are 82% more likely to become homeless." 20% of former foster kids experience homelessness within 4 years of turning 18. 61% of those are then at some point incarcerated. These are recent statistics - I can't imagine it was much better in the early 2000s. All of this points to a very dark place for Tobias once his uncle kicks him out. And this is all assuming the severe bullying and abuse doesn't kill Tobias before he'd make it that far.

Wow that was a lot of unedited ranting. Is it readable? I'd love to see anyone else's take.

In conclusion: I personally do think former foster kid beats child soldier, assuming he sticks it out. I think he's tougher than he realizes. @thejakeformerlyknownasprince , any thoughts?

do you ever think about how if tobias had not become an animorph his life would probably be way worse

at the very least, it'd be much lonelier

[murmurmurl]

I made some bunbys + design notes

No idea what I wanna do with them, I was just mainly having fun. They're siblings because of course they are. I might wanna try to draw them as anthros and as regular bunnies too later,, also I thought it'd be fun to name them very typical bunny names

[chatxkilluaxnoir]

I have Gravity Falls and Etc. fic(s) idea(s)

Which, I am going to write now while I am having this fic idea (probably going to be a short one, but in the future I might make a revised expanded version or something. Who knows).

I actually have multiple Gravity Falls and GF TAU and Reverse Falls and etc. stuff that stems from this specific The Book of Bill thing.

Specifically stuff exploring Dipper's nightmares.

(I have some other ideas for the other dreams and/or nightmares too. Sometimes even in relation to Dipper's in some way).

I love my boy, and his nightmares hurt my heart.

But also because I love him, I want to explore even more of issues/trauma/suffering and/or to do Dipper angst. And etc.

Because I want both happiness and/or suffering for my faves/the characters I love very much.

Like Dipper.

So he is going to be getting even more of that from me, probably.

Because he is great and I love him.

[volivolition]

what's the theme you're fucking going for here voliiii!!! what are you fucking getting at!!! what are you trying to say, what's the point??

[pezpenser205]

me being largely nonhuman/antihuman and a lesbian, therefore being forced by my brain to be attracted to humans has actually allowed me to fully understand how men attracted women who say they wish they were lesbians are real and based and do not deserve the hate they get. like girl i get it thats literally how i feel about you.

no offense to the good humans out there #notallhumans <3

[krysmcscience]

Did somebody say Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear? I think somebody said Bill shouldn't be allowed to swear. Thanks to that, have these retooled The Good Place jokes:

The "powers that be" can refer to either the Theraprism staff, the Axolotl, or just. Ya know. Disney in general. Or all three! Whichever you think is funniest. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The "party" Bill's referring to is Weirdmageddon, of course. He was quite the ashhole to everyone back then.

Ford has probably gotten pretty good at the 'tune out your psychopathic ex with dank memes' challenge.

It must be very cathartic to be able to make Bill shut up whenever you want with just the press of a button. I'm sure Ford doesn't abuse this ability at all.

Oh, sure, 'Not now,' he says, before he immediately backs out of the newly-made hole in the Theraprism wall. 🙄

Don't worry, Bill doesn't get far.

also yeah i know this one doesn't have an attempted swear - i just wanted to use the joke because of the massive stink-eye involved in it because it makes me laugh

⬇️ More goofs beneath the brief ramble if you wanna skip it lmao⬇️

Why is Ford even there, you might ask? Well, he either decided he preferred to watch Bill suffer in person over being distantly and repeatedly harassed with the same evil desperation book for the rest of his life, or he got roped into some kind of contrived community service for 1.) all his many counts of interdimensional thievery, and 2.) his ignoring all the very clear warnings to NOT summon Bill in the first place (which I like to imagine is also illegal). Theraprism staff were just like, 'Wait, this guy matters to Bill? Ooh, we can USE that! It might be the only thing that can help him want to get better!' It is not considered that throwing Ford at Bill so soon after Weirdmageddon could instead make them both WORSE - in new and altogether special ways! :D

Anyway, I'm calling it the Community Service AU, and I am most likely not going to do anything else with it beyond appropriating these silly Good Place jokes. So, feel free to adopt the concept if y'all wanna??? Just make sure that Bill is still not allowed to swear, no matter what, full stop. It's gotta be a real linguistic corkblork of a situation for him, is all I'm sayin'.

Finally, have these bonus Good Place jokes, but with Handyman!Bill this time:

'Opposite tortures' doesn't sound so bad...at least until it's an all-powerful chaos entity known for torture saying it.

you may think i forgot mabel's cute pink cheeks but the truth is that i did in fact forget but then immediately stopped caring which makes it okay, SHHHHHHH

And, finally:

lmao this is shit

True facts, if you cram Season 1 Eleanor Shellstrop and Michael into a singular triangle shape, they turn into Bill Cipher. This is science, look it up. Or don't, and just trust the source that is me, bro.

Anyway, I should be in bed, y'all have fun with these, I guess. Tune in after like a week or so and maybe I'll have an addendum to my comic about how Bill was drawn naked for karaoke night. Because him actually being naked was not the only thing I considered as a plausible explanation. XD

Also if you see any inconsistencies or errors in any of these comics, No You Do Not :D

Also also, reblogs are rad as hell and I appreciate every single one, just don't repost, please and thanks. Every time a repost is made, an artist somewhere cries. :,)

[hipipi]

.

[ellieputellas]

the bird | a.putellas (2)

tags: troublestudent!Alexia, modelstudent!reader, angst, fluff, religious guilt, forbidden love, friends-to-lovers, smut, cunnilingus r&alexia!receiving, fingering r!receiving, semi-public sex, all explicit scenes will have warning before it warnings / notes: will contain homophobic sentiments, religious themes, emotionally heavy angst and scenes, might come off sacrilegious at some times

‎ㅤㅤ⠀⠀ chapter index — chapter one 🕊 chapter two 🕊 epilogue

note: all explicit scenes will have the warning before it! you can use that as a guide for when you want to skip such parts or if you wanna skip everything else and read just smut lmfao anyway u can read this chapter alone if u just want the smut lol but i urge you to read chapter 1 to get the plot! with that said. minors please dni still!

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ACT IV. Damned to End from the Start (cont.)

When you finally pulled away from Alexia, you felt your chest rise and fall as you tried to catch your breath and gather your thoughts. Alexia looked into your eyes, flickering between them as if trying to read your expression.

“You…” Her voice trailed off as she kept her hands on you, resting on your waist. 

You bit your lip. Your hands slipped down her arms, gripping on to them as if you’d melt on to the floor if you weren’t.

The silence filled the air as you stayed like that for a moment. Alexia gnawed on her own bottom lip, unsure of what to say. “So, what now?”

You exhaled deeply, locking eyes with her, searching for answers you didn’t have. “I don’t know,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I was hoping you’d have it figured out first.”

A nervous chuckle bubbled up from inside you, shaking your head. Alexia blinked at you in surprise before a chuckle escaped her lips too. Once you two stopped with the giggles, Alexia reached for your hand again cautiously, holding on to the fingertips. “So… I assume you don't hate me.”

You shook your head, the words spilling easily. “I could never…”

She gave a small, thoughtful hum, her gaze dropping to where your hands intertwined. “That doesn’t necessarily mean you like me, though…”

You chuckled and moved closer, reaching out to take her face in your hands. “Was the kiss not enough of a clue?”

Her lips parted, her gaze flickering back to yours, then down to your lips. “Well… maybe another one would make me sure.”

You rolled your eyes, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you leaned in and captured her mouth in a tender kiss. When you pulled back, you grinned against her lips. “That good enough for you?”

Alexia’s quiet laugh sent shivers through you. “Maybe I need a few more.” She teased, causing you to give her a playful slap on the arm.

Another silence befell the two of you for a moment until you finally admitted, “That was my first kiss.” 

“I know, angel.” She responded as she tucked a loose lock of hair behind your ear. “I hope it’s worth it.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Of course, of course,” you said. “It felt… it felt like the best thing ever.”

Alexia smiled faintly but quickly glanced away, a nervous edge creeping into her demeanor. The weight of the day pressed on her — the endless lectures from the nuns, their harsh words ringing in her ears as they condemned homosexuality with fervor. Not to mention the heavy looks of judgement of the girls who probably found out about her situation, having witnessed her and Jenni being escorted to Sister Philomena’s office. 

She didn’t buy into the whole “gay is evil” shit for a second, but the thought of dragging you into that kind of judgment made her chest tighten.  

You, with your reputation as the model student, didn’t deserve to face the judgement she'd endured. Alexia knew she could take it, but she wasn’t sure she could bear seeing you hurt by it.

“Hey,” you said as you noticed her deep in thought, a facial expression that appeared more and more anxious.

Alexia looked up at you and your angelic face, your warm eyes. It would pain her to see you suffer the same judgement. “What now, monjita? What do we do now?” She said, repeating her question from earlier.

“I don’t know,” you responded in a low voice. “All I know is I like you and you make me happy and I love your presence.”

Alexia’s shoulders relaxed slightly as she nodded. Your words calmed her heart a bit but doubt still lingered. “Aren’t you scared?” she asked after a beat, her voice small. “Of god? Of what everyone will think?”

It struck her how quickly you’d shifted — from a tearful, conflicted mess minutes ago to the calm determination that now anchored you. But now, that same silence felt different... like quiet approval, like peace.

You shook your head slowly, a soft smile tugging at your lips. “No,” you said, your voice steady and confident. “Not anymore.”

After the rain had calmed down, you two made your way back to your dorm room, changed into your pajamas, and cuddled in Alexia’s bed. This time, you were seated up with your back against the wall as Alexia rested her head on your lap, allowing you the chance to brush her hair through your fingers. 

“...And you were laughing so hard that your nose was all wrinkled up and you were practically snorting,” Alexia said, recalling one of your random nights out at the prayer garden. “That’s when I knew it wasn’t just a happy crush.”

“That was like months ago, Alexia…” You said, shocked by the confession. 

She hummed as if it were the most natural thing in the world. “Yeah, well… I mean, I’ve always thought you were pretty.” She paused, her tone turning smug. “And I knew you thought the same about me, even before you realized it yourself.”

You rolled your eyes, though your cheeks betrayed you with a faint blush. “No way.”

“Oh, please,” Alexia teased, chuckling. “I’d catch you staring at me, and your face would turn bright red. It was adorable.”

You chuckled nervously. “I was not that obvious.”

“Sure,” Alexia said, her voice dripping with mock disbelief. “Especially after football. You’d hang around, so quiet and fidgety, like you didn’t know where to look. I’d brush past you or touch you and you’d practically jump two feet in the air whenever our skin made contact.”

A laugh burst from your lips as you tapped two fingers lightly against her forehead, playfully reprimanding her for teasing you. “Oh, so you were doing that on purpose? The accidental touches? And don’t think I didn’t notice the way you’d always raise your arms or lift up your shirt during training, just to show off your abs.”

A mischievous grin spread across Alexia’s face. “What I’m hearing is… you like my abs.”

You playfully smacked your two fingers on her forehead again lightly. “Shut up!”

For a moment, the room was filled with laughter, but soon the energy settled into a quiet stillness. Your fingers continued their slow path through Alexia’s hair, and the weight of your thoughts pressed against your chest.

“Alexia…” You began softly. “Can I ask you something?”

She tilted her head to look up at you, her hazel eyes curious. “Of course.”

You hesitated, unsure if you should even bring it up, but curiosity and something heavier pushed you forward. “Jenni,” you said carefully, the name hanging in the air like a delicate thread. “The girl who snuck into the school earlier… what’s the story with her?”

Alexia took a deep breath. “Jenni and I…” she started, her voice soft but steady. “We were best friends. Ever since I moved in with my grandparents when I was young... after my father got sick and my parents couldn't take care of me anymore.”

You nodded, recalling that aspect of her story but you stayed silent, letting her continue her train of thought. 

“She was always open about her sexuality, even when we were way younger,” Alexia said with a faint smile. “She was so brave about it, you know? Like, she didn’t care what anyone thought. I admired her for that.”

Her smile faded as she continued. “We were the only two queer girls in our school. At least, the only ones we knew about. So, I guess it was kind of inevitable that we ended up dating.” She said with an unreadable expression. “She was funny and we both loved to play football but… I don’t think we were ever compatible, as a couple.”

You nodded, sensing there was more to the story.

“It was… intense,” Alexia admitted, her voice faltering slightly. “Tumultuous, really. She’d get jealous easily, and I’d get frustrated about little things just as fast. We’d fight, makeup, and fight again. My grades slipped from all the stress, hers too. It was hard, but we were young and stupid, and I thought that was just how it was supposed to be.”

Her voice grew quieter. “It all came crashing down when my grandparents found out. I’m not even sure how they pieced it together. Maybe it was the way we looked at each other, or how much time we spent together. But they knew. And they… they weren’t happy.”

You could feel the weight of her words settling into the room. “What happened?” you asked gently.

“Well, you already know that they’re devout Catholics,” Alexia said with a bitter laugh. “So, they hated it. They gave me an ultimatum. Break up with Jenni or be shipped to boarding school.”

“Oh,” You said. “So, that’s why you’re here?”

Alexia hummed. “Kinda… but not really,” she paused. “Because I broke up with her.”

She breathed, inhaling until her lungs filled completely before exhaling shakily. “I hated how my grandparents were so against me being gay, but it also felt like a blessing in disguise.” She said as her eyebrows knit together. “I wasn’t happy with Jenni anymore; I just wanted to go back to being best friends. So, I wanted to use my grandparents’ disapproval as an excuse to split up with her.”

“Then… then how’d you end up here?” You asked.

Her jaw clenched. “After I broke up with her, she tried sneaking into my house to beg for a second chance and they caught her.” She paused. "My grandmother caught her climbing into my window and she was just…”

Alexia took a beat to breathe, the story obviously something heavy for her to recount. “It was bad. They acted like I was the devil incarnate even when I tried to obey them.” She stared blankly at the ceiling. “It wasn’t even my fault.”

Your heart ached for her as she let out a shaky breath.

“So, they sent me here,” Alexia continued, gesturing vaguely to the room. “Far away from everything I knew, far from home. They thought this place would fix me, cleanse me, or whatever. Stop making me gay,”  She scoffed. “But it didn’t. Obviously.”

A chuckle bubbled up between the two of you. When the laughter dissipated, her eyes finally met yours, vulnerable and searching. “I don’t want you to go through that. I don’t want you to suffer because of me.”

You softly placed a hand against Alexia’s cheek, using your thumb to brush against her soft skin. “It won’t happen to us.” You reassured. “We’ll be careful. Don’t worry.”

For a while, Alexia and you were careful. 

No one really blinked an eye when you two held hands considering that you’ve always done it before and it was common for friends to do so. Even the girls who had heard of Alexia’s stint at Sister Philomena’s office stopped judging her too harshly based on the sole fact that you were hanging out with her. If the ideal, angelic student was her friend, then that just probably meant Alexia wasn’t the evil homosexual they thought she was.

To take extra cautious measures, Alexia and you only ever kissed in the bedroom, which sometimes felt like it wasn’t enough for you. You’d think about her lips, her touch all the time. Instead of listening to Bible study, your brain had resorted to fantasizing about her kisses, especially those neck kisses you grew to love so much. 

It mostly got unbearable during football practice or games. The sight of Alexia running around, muscles flexed and face serious, always got you squirming in the grass. She was so attractive and you were so smitten by everything she did on the pitch. 

It was particularly worse whenever you had to join her at the showers. After confirming that you did love the sight of her abdomen, Alexia started taking her shirt off a lot in front of you especially after training when they were particularly prominent from all the physical activity. 

This time, when Alexia took her shirt off, you felt your lips tuck between your teeth, inhaling as you saw the familiar sight of her shirtless torso. Alexia chuckled at your obvious reaction. “You’ve seen me shirtless countless times and you’re still this flustered.”

You rolled your eyes before quickly looking around to check the vicinity. The shower room was empty since the other football girls had already taken a bath while Alexia was still on the pitch, cooling down with a jog and some stretches. Once you’ve confirmed that no one was around, you practically jumped at Alexia, taking her lips with yours.

Alexia chuckled at the sudden affection but welcomed it, resting her hands on your waist as she kissed you. She hummed out loud when she felt you bite her lower lip, shocked that you were being the bolder, more forward one this time. 

You licked Alexia’s lower lip, just like she had with yours, as if to ask permission. Once Alexia parted her lips, you let your tongue slide between them, deepening the kiss. 

Alexia felt proud, feeling just how quickly you’ve improved at kissing when just a week ago, you jumped at the feeling of her tongue inside your mouth. Now, it was you who was leading the French kiss. 

It didn't take long until you were breathless. You pulled away, looking into Alexia’s eyes, seeing her pupils blown out. “Ale, do you wanna skip the shower and go back to our room?”

“I thought you’d never ask.”

As soon as you and Alexia entered your room, you took her shirt off again and pulled her towards your bed, stumbling back to lie down as Alexia propped herself on top of you.

Alexia was quite shocked that you were making out on your bed, instead of hers. She was quite accustomed to it but she didn’t complain or question anything, too fixated on pressing her lips against yours. 

Aside from kissing your lips, Alexia’s favorite part to kiss was your collarbones. She loved how you’d whimper and moan whenever she’d kiss them, gently to not leave a mark. She moved her lips slowly from your mouth to your collarbones, planting a kiss on your cheek and neck on her way down. 

You moaned out as soon as you felt the Catalan’s teeth graze against your collarbone, kissing and sucking harder than she had before. “Alexia…” Her name felt so natural in your mouth. It felt so good moaning it out.

Alexia continued to kiss your collarbone as you felt her hand slip under your school shirt, touching the skin of your waist. While you’ve seen Alexia topless several times, you haven’t really revealed that much to the girl. You have changed in the same room a lot of times but never in this context. 

Alexia was always respectful of your boundaries, often waiting for you to make the move first. But this time, that slipped out of her mind as her hand moved up and down your waist, feeling your skin. She couldn't hold back when you were being so cute with your moans.

“Alexia, take it off.” You whimpered out. She looked up at you, hazel eyes warm and excited. You smiled. “Please, help me take off my shirt.”

You sat up and let Alexia lift your shirt up as you raised both hands to make it easier for her to do so. She bit her lips as she saw the sight of you in just a white, balconette bra with lace details. She exhaled, eyes flickering between your chest and your face.

The warmth spread from your chest to your face as you grew flustered. “Ale…” Your voice trailed off, timidly. You placed both hands on her shoulders, holding onto her as you batted your eyes at her.

“You’re so beautiful.” She looked into your eyes with her pupils blown out. “Can I…?”

You nodded. “Yes. I give you my permission.”

Her lips curled into a smile before she leaned forward to kiss your lips, putting one hand on the small of your back and the other one cupping your breasts over your lace bra. You wrapped your arms around Alexia, trying to keep yourself up as you moaned into her mouth at the feeling of her touch. 

Alexia kneaded your chest gently as she kissed you passionately, hungrily. Soon, her hands were pushing their way under the white fabric and pulling your breast out to spill out of your bra. You gasped, breaking the kiss.

She took this opportunity to lay you down on the bed as she crawled back on top of you. She cautiously took the other breast out so that they would both be spilling out of your bra. Her eyes gazed back at your face as she lowered her face down to your chest. 

“Let me try something,” she said in a hushed voice. “I’m sure you’d like it.”

You trusted Alexia. When it came to intimacy, you had no knowledge. All prurient media and literature were banished from the school, making it impossible for you to know anything about sex. The only encounter you had to learn about it was through a Jude Deveraux erotic book that slipped through the nun’s scrutiny. You were so shocked by the contents that you barely got through it before quickly turning it over to Sister Catherine for her to dispose of. (Though, it seemed more like the nun kept the book instead of throwing it away.) 

At this moment, you grew regretful at never reading through it. Maybe it would have prepared you better for what was about to happen.

You immediately moaned loudly as soon as Alexia’s mouth wrapped around your nipple. She gave it a cautionary lick with her tongue before she continued to suck it. Her other hand proceeded to play with the other chest, using her fingers to roll your nipples between them.

You whimpered, trying to choke down your moans as you felt the pleasure intensify. Alexia was incredibly skilled with her tongue, seemingly knowing exactly how to make you feel good. You tried pressing your legs together, to ease the sudden ache and discomfort you were feeling in your nether regions but you couldn't as Alexia was still in between them. 

It was taking everything in Alexia not to suck too hard and to leave hickeys to mark you; she would stop herself every time, giving a precautionary look at your skin just to be safe. She was a contradiction – wanting both to be careful and gentle but also wanting to consume you whole.

But she knew even the act of planting gentle kisses all over you was already overwhelming for a good, Catholic girl like you. You were already practically going crazy under her. She feared for how loud you’d be once she actually got to properly touch you.

She lifted her head up. “Monjita,” she whispered out. “Can I touch you?”

You blinked, looking down at Alexia. “Touch me?”

She nodded before letting her hand go from your breast to in between your legs. Alexia pressed her palm flatly on your core. “Here.”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to feel. Though you didn’t know of the details, you already knew the concept of sexual intimacy. Of course, what you knew was that it was dirty, impure, and sinful. But with Alexia, you just couldn't fathom how it could possibly be a bad thing. How could something so tender, born out of love and passion, ever be wrong? It felt as though the very idea defied everything you had been taught.

“We don’t have to…” Alexia said as she saw the hesitation in your face.

You quickly shook your head and cupped her face with your hands. “No,” you said as you looked deep into her eyes. “I think I’m ready.”

Alexia smiled warmly, her eyes sparkling as she did, sending butterflies to your stomach. You smiled back. “If I were to do it,” you said softly. “I’d want it to be with you.”

Those words warmed Alexia from the inside. She moved back up to capture your lips in a tender kiss before sitting up. She cautiously held your waistband, pulling off your skirt as you lifted your hips to make it easier for her to remove them. Alexia nearly moaned at the sight of your pure, white underwear absolutely drenched at the crotch with your own nectar. She felt a chuckle bubble up.

You grew shy. “W-what?” 

Alexia shook her head. “You’re so beautiful, my angel.” Alexia said in a low voice, admiring your body. “How did I get so lucky to have an angel laid bare before me?"

Your cheeks grew crimson with Alexia’s words and with the way she stared at you, taking in your entirety. She ran a hand through the smooth of your hips and up to the curve of your waist before leaning in again to capture your lips. As she pulled away, she locked eyes with you. “Monjita, you can tell me to stop any time, okay?”

You nodded, feeling incredibly full of trust for Alexia. There was not a single doubt or hesitation in your mind at that moment.

Alexia sat back up before placing both thumbs underneath the side of your underwear, slowly pulling the fabric off of you.

“God,” Alexia whispered under her breath as she saw your slick stick to the fabric, forming a stretched line before breaking. You were utterly soaked, and it was all for her. Pride surged through her veins, mixing with a deep, insatiable hunger.

Growing shy, you pressed your legs together, feeling vulnerable under the intensity of her stare. Alexia let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head as her warm hands gently coaxed your legs apart again. “No hiding, angel,” she murmured, her tone coaxing yet commanding. “Let me see all of you.”

Alexia was so gentle with you. Her touch was tender, almost reverent. She kissed her way across your skin, her lips a soft prayer as they met every curve and hollow, easing you into the rhythm of her care. Her mouth lingered on yours in a final, lingering kiss before she began her descent, leaving a trail of warmth as she made her way down to your core.

When her head settled between your thighs, your heart hammered against your ribs. The sensation of her warm breath against your bare skin sent a shiver up your spine.

Slowly, the Catalan spread you with her hands and parted her mouth before capturing your clit with her mouth. You gasped, putting a hand on her head. “Alexia! That’s dirty!”

She paused only for a moment, lifting her gaze to meet yours with a soft smile. “No part of an angel could ever be dirty,” she murmured, her voice a soothing promise, before dipping back down to continue her devotion.

Your hands tangled in Alexia's hair, gripping gently as her tongue lapped up your core, savoring every drop of your wetness. Her movements were unhurried, deliberate as if committing the taste of you to memory.

Alexia nearly chuckled at the memory of the nuns telling all of you about how to never waste food — not a single grain of rice, not a single drop of honey. Alexia smirked at the thought. She’d taken that lesson to heart, but now, she applied it differently—making sure not a single bit of your sweetness went untasted. Not a single drop of it was wasted.

The sensation of Alexia eating you out was something you’d never felt before. It was exciting and intense. With every flick of Alexia’s tongue, you could feel yourself unravel more and more.

Her tongue would move up and down your entire length before flicking against your clit quickly, causing you to grip the sheets as you clenched your body to the sensation. You loved it when Alexia wrapped her mouth against you, sucking you in a consistent and steady pattern. It sent a shudder of pleasure through your body as your lower stomach warmed.

“Oh God!” You cried out loud, making Alexia chuckle against your core at the irony. “Oh my god! Alexia, don’t stop.”

Alexia paused to shush you. She loved hearing you get so riled up by her but the last thing she needed was for people outside to hear you. After all, it was only afternoon.

Alexia couldn’t resist you, wanting to press her fingers inside you and feel your tightness around her but she knew she had to warm you up, which she didn’t mind. She loved your taste, loved the way your hips pressed up against the warmth of her mouth.

Slowly, she moved her mouth to your opening before slowly sticking her tongue inside you. The warm sensation of her tongue sent an electrifying jolt through your body as it pushed inside of you. You nearly shouted at the overwhelming feeling but your hand went to your mouth, muffling your own moans.

Pleased by your reaction, Alexia bobbed her head to thrust her pointed tongue inside you. Each deliberate motion was paired with the subtle brush of her nose against your clit, an added spark that made your head spin. The dual sensation was intoxicating, a feeling you didn't even know could be possible.

Alexia’s devotion was evident in every motion, her focus unwavering as though she were worshiping you with her tongue. To falter, even for a moment, felt unthinkable to her —not when she was blessed to have you, her angel, unraveling beneath her.

Alexia lifted her head up to look at you from below. “Angel, I’m going to put a finger inside of you.” She said with a low and reverent voice. “If it hurts, let me know, okay?”

All hesitation and apprehension was gone at this point as you eagerly nodded. “Yes, please, yes.”

A soft chuckle escaped her lips, laced with affection. She found your eagerness both cute and sexy. Returning her attention back to your clip, she enveloped her mouth around your clit again to form a steady suction, just to make sure you were sufficiently wet and prepared.

Soon, she carefully took her finger and teased your opening with it, taking her time to soak the finger with your juices. Once she was covered with your slick, she cautiously pressed it against your opening.

Your back arched at the slow intrusion; it felt new and overwhelming. A soft wince escaped your mouth. Alexia paused and lifted her head. “Breathe, angel," she soothed. "Relax, baby. It's just me."

With a deep exhale, you felt your muscles loosen, allowing her to press further inside. The stretch was unfamiliar but not unpleasant, and when her finger was finally fully inside of you, a soft moan escaped your lips. Alexia smiled. “Good girl.”

You hummed as you felt your eyes shut close, savoring the pleasure. Alexia took this as a sign to start thrusting. She put her mouth back on your clit as she slowly pumped her finger in and out of you, feeling you tight around her. 

For Alexia, this moment was more than just sexual passion; it was communion.

Being your first filled her with a profound sense of warmth and connection. With each gasp and shiver that escaped you, she felt her heart flutter. You had her entirely, completely, and Alexia wouldn't have it any other way. She didn't mind that you had her wrapped around your finger.

She wanted to be yours anyway.

Alexia increased the speed, carefully pressing against your sensitive spot with every thrust inwards. The combination of her mouth and fingers was driving you insane, struggling to keep your moans from slipping out of the hand you pressed against your mouth.

As the pleasure intensified, you cried out, removing a hand from your mouth. “Alexia, you have to move away.” The words escaped your mouth in a rush. “I think I’m gonna pee.”

Alexia chuckled, fully knowing what you meant. She took it as a sign to move faster and harder against you, pressing a tongue against your throbbing clit. “A-Alexia, I’m serious, uh.”

Your concern soon dissipated as you felt yourself clench around her fingers. Your knuckles grew white as you gripped the sheet with your hands, feeling the intensity build up.

And with a loud cry of Alexia’s name, you came undone, breathing heavily as you felt the pleasure make waves through your entire body. Alexia helped you ride out your orgasm before pulling away, wiping her soaked hand on her shorts before moving to your side to cuddle up to you, spooning you.

You smiled and let a chuckle out as you tried to catch your breath, absolutely consumed by the feeling. You turned around so that you’d be facing Alexia, looking into her eyes.

“That was…” You smiled breathlessly. “Alexia, I think I…”

She smiled as you paused. She knew what you wanted to say but she understood your hesitation, knowing you might not have wanted to say it after the heat of it all. She reached out to you, tucking a hair behind your ear before pressing her lips on your forehead. “I know, monjita.” She whispered. 

You moved closer to her, resting a head on her shoulders as you wrapped a hand around her side. She felt extremely warm against you.

“Hmm…” Alexia hummed thoughtfully.

“What?” You asked.

“Nothing,” She said before teasing you. “I just found it funny how you thought you had to pee.”

You playfully smacked her arm. “Don’t tease me! I’m a virgin, okay?”

Alexia laughed as she shook her head. “Not anymore, angel.” She beamed with pride as she snuggled you closer to her. You rolled your eyes and chuckled before nuzzling your face in her chest.

You wanted to stay like that forever, wrapped around each other, feeling each other’s warmth, laughing at each other’s jokes. It felt so addicting just being this close to each other.

You knew you had to get up soon, actually have a shower and get dressed to go for dinner. But for now, you just wanted to fantasize about being completely alone with Alexia, with no worries or fear. Just the two of you, free to love and make love and kiss and be yourselves.

We have to get out of this school.

It was as if the heavens heard your prayers because you were getting a chance to leave the school.

Well, at least for the weekend.

Alexia and the rest of the football team were gearing up to have their first away game against a nearby girl’s school. All the girls from the football team were beyond excited to spend the weekend outside the confines of the boarding school.

While the trip was solely for the football team, Sister Catherine requested that you accompany the team. She said it was just because she wanted to show you appreciation for all that you did for the dorm but they weren’t so subtle about making sure you would keep an eye on Alexia, as if she was some problematic student.

You didn’t mind though, because it just felt like a free trip with the girl you liked.

So, after you and Ingrid gave your respective interim replacements as Dorm Heads a short orientation on things to do and expect, you were both gushing to each other about the trip, excited to see what the outside world has to offer. 

“I feel more excited about this than when we took that long trip to see the cloistered nuns,” Ingrid recalled. “All we did then was take a useless three-hour bus ride to pray and eat stale cookies. Now, we get to actually go outside and enjoy the outside world.”

You chirped. “I know! Sister Catherine said we’ll all get a budget for when we have a free day out in the nearby town.” You sighed at the thought. “Can you believe that? We get to taste outside food and buy stuff for ourselves.”

Ingrid smiled widely, feeling warm at the sight of your face glowing with happiness. You two were quite close before but you never bothered to show this much emotion to her before; you were far more reserved and guarded. Now, you seemed carefree, younger too. 

“You seem really happy lately,” The Norwegian said as she nodded approvingly. “I’m so glad to see more of this side of you.”

You blushed, feeling vulnerable at the comment. “Thanks. You seem happy too, Ingrid.”

She nodded and you locked eyes in quiet contentment before you two started joyfully chatting again, beyond excited to get out of this place even for just a few days.

You were beyond annoyed when you found out that you would be sharing a room with Sister Catherine instead of Alexia for your trip.

The nuns explained that all the athletes would be staying together in bigger rooms of five while the nuns get bigger rooms meant for faculty. (Apparently, the sisters thought it would be a good idea to have them bond with each other the night before the match.)

That meant you had to either dorm with the moody Sister Jude or the more relaxed Sister Catherine. You opted for the latter. 

So much for looking forward to doing it on a new bed, you thought.

Alexia laughed when you told her the news which made you frown. She cooed as she summoned you over to her bed where she was sitting. “C’mon, don’t give me the sour face. It’s just kinda funny…”

You pouted feigning annoyance as you stood in front of her. “So, you’d rather stay with four of your teammates instead of with me?”

She put her hands around your waist, before lowering you down to straddle her on the lap. “Monjita, of course, I wanted to be rooming with you but I kinda expected this to happen.” 

She planted a soft kiss on your chin. “At least we’d have a whole day to ourselves.” She said before planting another kiss on your neck and then your collarbones. “We can pretend to be a normal couple for a day — go to a farmer's market, hold hands, kiss in public.”

You hummed. “You do know we still have to wear our school shirts and the school sweatpants," you reminded. "Nothing a normal couple would wear."

Her chuckle vibrated against your skin as she kissed along your neck. “We can just wear a huge jacket over it,” she suggested. “Pretend we’re girlfriends who like to match clothes.”

“Hmm… girlfriends…” You whispered, letting the word hand in the air.

Neither of you had explicitly labeled what you had, and it had never seemed to matter. You thought Alexia wasn’t the type to care about having a label either, well, until now.

Alexia hummed back and pressed a kiss on your jawline. “Yes, does that sound great?”

You smiled before lifting her head up with your hands. “Sounds good to me,” you responded before pressing your lips against hers.

After a long bus ride, where you were forced to be beside Sister Catherine, you begrudgingly took your stuff to your shared room, hating having to stay in a totally separate building from your girlfriend.

Sister Catherine gushed about how lucky you were to be in a room with just her, a luxury not afforded to the athletes who had to be bunked together in groups. But really, you would have preferred to be with them instead of with the junior nun. 

You liked Sister Catherine; she was nice and clean. She certainly was one of the more chill and laid-back nuns. Sometimes, she made you laugh with her corny jokes. She was certainly your favorite among the sisters.

But she was no Alexia Putellas.

Alexia could instantly see the sour expression on your face when she met you for dinner out with the others. She swiftly ran up to you. “Angel, why the long face?”

She linked her arm with yours as you two walked side-by-side. The entire team was heading to a nearby fast food joint, buzzing with excitement. It had been ages since any of you had indulged in greasy, guilt-laden junk food. 

You leaned your head against Alexia’s shoulders as you walked. Alexia stiffened up with the sudden public display of affection but remembered that you were with the more junior nuns who were incredibly way more chill and also, trusted you with their lives.

“I missed you,” you murmured softly. “It’s the first time since you came to Santa Eulalia that we won’t be spending the night together.”

Alexia let out a quiet sigh. “I know,” she said, her tone gentle. “But hey, at least on Sunday, we can do whatever we want after mass.” She nudged you slightly. “Do you have anything in mind?”

You shook your head, a wistful smile tugging at your lips. “No plans. I just want to wander aimlessly with you… pretend we’re an ordinary couple in the city.”

Alexia chuckled. “I’d really love that, monjita.”

You sighed again, your voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Don’t know how I’ll sleep without my goodnight kiss.”

She laughed softly. “You seemed to manage just fine before we started dating,” she teased, giving you a knowing look. “You’ll survive.”

You pouted. “I doubt that.”

Alexia tilted her head, pretending to ponder. Then she leaned closer and dropped her voice so only you could hear. “How about this? Meet me outside your dorm around 11 pm, when everyone’s asleep. I’ll sneak over and give you that kiss.”

You hesitated, your brows knitting together. “Don’t you need a good night’s rest to play well tomorrow?”

She smirked, her trademark confidence shining through. “We’re playing against another boarding school, not an actual football club. I could run circles around those girls in my sleep.”

You rolled your eyes at her cockiness, though you couldn’t deny how much you adored it. Alexia’s self-assurance was always backed by her skill. She had every right to be with the way she played. “Okay, how else can I say no to a good night kiss?”

When you finally reached the fast food restaurant, the team erupted with excitement, clamoring over the menu and debating what to order. 

The greasy, salty aroma filled the air, a nostalgic comfort after years of the same slop the kitchen always prepared. You joined in, laughing and indulging along with everyone else, savoring every bite. 

But at the back of your mind, all you could think about was kissing Alexia later. No french fries or ice cream sundae tasted better than your girlfriend’s lips

Your heart was practically beating out of your chest once the clock struck 10. For the next hour, you spent your time silently brushing your hair and spritzing on a bit of perfume, moving quietly as the nun was fast asleep.

Thank god for food coma, you thought as you remembered Sister Catherine and Sister Jude indulging in a huge serving of fries and burgers. For a moment, everyone had forgotten that gluttony was a sin.

By 10:55 pm, you were already tiptoeing out of your shared room, slipping silently into the hallway. The faculty dormitory where you stayed was on the far side of the building, separate from the student athletes’ quarters. You couldn’t help but wonder how Alexia planned to sneak all the way here without getting caught.

Soon, you could see the familiar shadow of your girlfriend climbing up the stairs adjacent to your room. You beamed as soon as you saw her. She pressed a finger against her mouth, telling you to remain quiet before gesturing for you to follow.

Biting your lip, you glanced back at your dorm door one last time before slipping away with her. Alexia took your hand, her grip warm and steady, as the two of you moved through the dimly lit building. She led the way with quiet confidence, navigating the halls as if she were a seasoned spy. 

You let her lead the way and ultimately, you both ended up in the basement which had a huge room converted into a chapel. 

“You could have just given me a kiss right outside my door,” You teased as you turned toward the Catalan who was boarding the wooden door of the room behind her.

Without hesitation, Alexia grabbed your waist and pinned you against the door, capturing your lips with hers. She pulled away after a minute of liplocking. “Wanted to do more than just a good night kiss.”

Her lips quickly met your again in a passionate kiss. You wrapped your arms around her as you felt yourself melt in her kiss, ready to come undone once again under your girlfriend’s touch.

It felt vaguely nostalgic to be kissing in a chapel again but this time, her kisses were more intense and passionate than the first kiss you had shared.

Alexia didn’t take long to slip the straps of your nightgown off of your shoulders, letting the soft fabric slip off your skin and fall to the floor. Your small yelp was muffled by Alexia’s lips as you felt yourself suddenly get exposed.

You felt so vulnerable and naked being pressed between the wooden door and your girlfriend, clad in just your white undies. Alexia’s hands were suddenly gripping your waist as she deepened the kiss. 

The opportunity to catch your breath came when your girlfriend eagerly moved her mouth to your neck and down to your collarbones. You held on tightly to her as continued to hungrily nibble at your skin.

Alexia was more eager than she ever was. It felt exciting to her, being this intimate outside the confines of your tiny dorm room. She knew you two weren’t getting caught but the possibility of it made her heart beat faster against her chest as she felt her growing arousal.

“A-Alexia, are you sure we won’t be caught?” You said with some hesitation. Once your girlfriend had moved her mouth to your neck, her head no longer obstructed the sight of the altar staring right at you. “We’d be in big trouble if we get caught.”

Alexia pulled away for a second before looking around. “Monjita, no one’s gonna catch us.” She responded. “Why don’t I make you feel better so I can distract you from your worries, hmm?”

It didn’t take long to convince you and before you knew it, Alexia had slipped off your underwear and carried you over to the pews. 

Alexia had you sitting on the edge of the seat with one foot perched on the seat beside your body and the other flat on the floor, feeling the cold wood on your bare butt as she kneeled in front of you, eating you out.

You moaned out loud as you felt your girlfriend’s skilled tongue draw circles around your clit, causing your legs to shake. “Oh my god, that feels so good.”

Alexia continued to eat you out, hungry for the taste of your juices. She loved hearing moans and whimpers exit your mouth as she continuously traced shapes with her tongue on to your core. 

Your hips bucked as you felt her tongue graze against the small part of your clit, feeling extremely sensitive against the warm sensation of her mouth. 

Your arms held on to the back support of the wooden pew as you arched your body against Alexia’s mouth. “Alexia, I’m cumming.” You moaned out.

Alexia smiled before slowly lifting her head up from your core. Before protests could even escape your mouth, Alexia had moved up to capture your lips again, tasting yourself on her mouth. 

She pulled away, hazel eyes scanning your face. “I wanna touch you from behind. Is that good, angel?”

You blinked, clueless as to what Alexia meant by that. Being a virgin from a Catholic boarding school meant Alexia always had to introduce you to new things, new positions — stuff you had never even imagined. But, you just trusted Alexia to know what’s best and how to make you feel good.  

You bit your lip and nodded, causing your girlfriend to smile widely before helping you up from your position. 

Alexia delicately guided you, slowly instructing you to lean over the back support of the pew in front of you. You felt slightly awkward bent over like that, breasts hanging as you held onto the seat in front you. Alexia kept your butt lifted high, rubbing it slightly. 

She cursed under her breath, incredibly aroused at the sight of you bent over like that for her, so submissive and vulnerable under her touch. She felt like she was corrupting you but this time, she didn’t feel so guilty. How could she when you were bent over so obediently, so willingly in front of her?

“Tell me if you feel uncomfortable and we can stop,” she ordered. “Okay, angel?”

You nodded but felt a sudden slap against your butt, not too hard to give you pain but hard enough to surprise you. 

Alexia tutted her tongue. “Use your words, angel.” She ordered. “I need you to be more vocal when I can’t see your face, okay?”

“Y-yes, Alexia.” You responded as you felt your own slick trickle down your leg. Something about Alexia being dominant and strict turned you on even more.

Your eyes fluttered shut and a gasp escaped your lips as you felt two fingers enter you. It was a completely different sensation from being on your back; it felt tighter.

“God, angel, you’re so tight.” Alexia uttered between grit teeth. “You’re taking me in so well.”

She held onto your hips to steady you before she began pushing in and out of you at a steady pace. You moaned every time you felt your girlfriend’s fingers enter you since your position made it easier for her to reach your g-spot with every single thrust.

Alexia was growing more and more turned on as she fucked you from behind, turned on not only by the feeling of you tight around her fingers but also the environment. It felt forbidden, it felt wrong, which made it all the more better. 

Alexia leaned over, keeping one hand inside you and the other snaking its way to your chest. Her strong hands held you up, which gave you a better angle to see the sacred imagery in front of you. You felt guilty doing what you were doing in the position you were in but the guilt didn’t linger long as the sensation of your girlfriend pounding behind you had dissipated whatever thought remained in your brain. All you could focus on was the sweet sensation of her fingers.

You cried out loud as you felt Alexia push more into you, fingers curling inwards with every thrust. Alexia smirked at the sound of your moans — a series of raggedy sounds and animalistic grunts. You could no longer control your voice but Alexia didn’t seem to mind.

“You’re all mine, angel.” Alexia grunted as she continued to thrust into you. “Say you’re mine.”

You moaned, finding it too difficult to get her name out as you were over the edge. “A…ale—”

SLAP.

You grunted at the sting of your girlfriend’s hands against your butt. It definitely hurt but something about it felt so satisfying. “Try again, angel.”

You took a deep inhale, trying not to get too distracted by Alexia’s consistent fingering. “I’m yours, Alexia,” you grunted out. “I’m all yours.”

Alexia felt the pride and warmth spread through her body and fuel her up to keep fucking you until you were a disheveled mess. 

It didn’t take long until you were slowly feeling that familiar build up again, feeling yourself clench and tighten as your girlfriend continued to thrust into you. You moaned out loudly, causing Alexia to hush you.

“Oh my,” you blubbered out as you felt the pleasure reach its peak. “Oh my god!”

With that, you came undone, feeling yourself clench around your girlfriend a couple times as the pleasure rippled across your body. You would have fallen limp, draped on the church pew, if Alexia hadn’t lifted you back up to prop you on her lap as she sat down. 

You wrapped your arms around Alexia and kissed her lips, softly as you were still breathless. “Alexia, you were way too naughty this time. I swear.”

Alexia teasingly tutted her tongue. “It’s not good to swear inside a chapel.”

You playfully smacked her on her forearm, earning a chuckle from her. “Great, now, I’d have to go back to my room all hot and bothered.” You complained.

Alexia raised an eyebrow at you. “Who said we were going back already?” She smirked as her hand found its way back in between your legs again.

You pouted and closed your legs tightly. “No more, Ale, I’m tired out.” You complained. “Plus, you have a game tomorrow. You need to get some rest.”

She frowned. “Don’t you think I need motivation for it?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the soreness in between your legs already, and as you were about to reprimand your girlfriend for being too horny and greedy, you got an idea. 

“Okay, we can have more fun,” you said but quickly pushed your girlfriend away as she was about to lean in. “But, I want to be the one to pleasure you this time.”

Alexia’s lips curled into a smile. “Angel, pleasuring you pleasures me, come on —” You stopped her again from leaning in.

“It’s either you let me or we go back up.” You said. “Come on, Ale. I wanna know what it feels like too… I wanna taste you.”

Alexia bit her lips as she scanned your eyes, seeing nothing but genuine curiosity and eagerness. 

She sighed. “Okay fine, but don’t be disappointed if you don’t make me cum,” she warned. “It’s your first time and… it can be a lot to handle.”

The nerves kicked in as Alexia said it but you figured you might as well try now. You carefully got on your knees, feeling the coolness of the tiles against your legs. 

You bit your lip as you slowly untied Alexia’s pajama pant strings before removing it from her body, together with her underwear. It wasn’t the first time that you’ve seen Alexia’s bottom half naked but it certainly felt different being within such close proximity to it. It felt so hot being on your knees in front of her nakedness. Alexia decided to add fuel to fire, lifting her top up to bite onto the hem to expose her defined stomach. 

Eagerly, your hands made their way to her legs, separating them so that Alexia would be completely exposed to you. Her folds glistened under the dim lights, practically shining in its wetness. You nervously looked at Alexia’s core, running a steady finger through it just to get familiar to the touch.

Alexia inhaled sharply as your fingers stopped just against her clip, tentatively rubbing up and down then in circles. She watched you look at her pussy, almost calculating, as you moved your fingers through it. 

After a few minutes of trying to rub against Alexia’s core, you decided to use your fingers to further spread her apart, nervously gulping before you leaned forward and captured her clit with your mouth. You mimicked Alexia’s movements whenever it was her who was eating you out, trying out a suction around her clit before ultimately licking it in various strokes.

Alexia bit more into the fabric of her shirt as she felt you graze against her swollen clit, seemingly knowing exactly what to do with it. 

You looked up at her, lifting your head up to pause. “Alexia,” you started as you locked eyes with her. “Let me hear you, please.”

How could she resist you with your wide-eyed gaze, naked and vulnerable on your knees as you desperately tried to pleasure her?

Alexia nodded, letting the fabric of her shirt free from her mouth. 

You eagerly put your mouth back on her, trying to recreate all the things she did with you. Soon enough, a series of moans left your girlfriend's lips. First, tentative and hesitant, low and quiet. But as you grew more and more accustomed to eating her out, Alexia’s moans grew louder and more delicate.

It was the first time you were hearing Alexia moan like that; you were accustomed to her occasional moans and grunts whenever she topped you but this was something new and something you definitely could get used to.

You felt Alexia’s hands find their way to the side of your head as she moved her hips up to grind against your mouth. Taking it as a good sign that she was close to an orgasm, you continued to suck at her clit with a faster yet steady pace.

How is she doing this on her first try, Alexia thought. She’s insane.

Aleia started to feel her climax approaching, shutting her eyes and throwing her head back. You continued fucking Alexia with your mouth and soon enough, she was twitching underneath you, mouth opened with no words or sounds escaping them. Pleasure had fully consumed her body.

You slowly looked up, watching your girlfriend’s chest rise and fall as she tried to catch her breath. After a few breaths, she looked down on you. “Where’d you learn that?”

You chuckled at her reaction. “Learned from the best.”

Alexia laughed, shaking her head before guiding you back up and propping you back on your lap. She gave you another soft kiss on the lips as she held you close.

“Thanks for that angel,” she smiled as her hazel eyes gazed into yours. “I felt like I was in heaven.”

Your cheeks grew red from the compliment, too flustered to say that that’s what she made you feel every single time you’ve been intimate before. 

Alexia sighed, contentedly. “I’m so ready to win tomorrow.” She smiled at you. “Might be greedy of me considering I already won tonight.”

You shook your head and rolled your eyes at your girlfriend’s teasing. Though, you were sure she wasn’t completely joking then. Her eyes were filled with passion and energy; you were certain she’d channel all of that on the pitch. 

You felt like you were floating after that night with Alexia at the basement chapel. It must have done the same to Alexia because she played on that field so effortlessly, moving through the opponents flawlessly.

You cheered from the stands, the only one from your school aside from the benched players cheering for your school.

Alexia scored a beautiful goal. Then, did a couple wonderful assists. Before you knew it, the team had won 5-0. 

You screamed with joy, running onto the pitch as soon as the team huddle broke apart. Your heart soared as you wrapped your arms around Alexia, pulling her into a tight hug. Every fiber of your being wanted to kiss her, to celebrate this moment with her in the most intimate way, but you knew better. A kiss would send you straight back to the institute and to Sister Philomena’s office.

To not seem suspicious, you also ran to Ingrid to give her a congratulatory hug, complimenting her defending skills. 

Before you could linger too long, Sister Ruth, the team’s coach, called the players over for another quick meeting before they headed to the showers. As Alexia turned to follow her teammates, she glanced back at you, subtly gesturing and mouthing, common room.

You nodded, understanding immediately, and made your way toward the dorm building where Alexia and the rest of the team were staying. But as you walked, you realized that you had no idea where you were going. The campus was unfamiliar, and you quickly found yourself looking around, lost and more than a little clueless.

A voice cut through your thoughts, smooth and teasing. “Are you lost, pretty girl?”

You turned to see the source of the voice — a girl with brown hair, warm brown eyes, and freckles dusting her cheeks. Your eyes quickly flickered to her shirt, noticing that she was one of the players from the home team. 

“Ah, yeah…” You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. “My best friend told me to meet her at the common room in the dorm building where our team is staying in, but, uh… I have no idea how to get there.”

The girl tilted her head, biting her lip slightly as she watched you. Her eyes lingered on your lips a second longer than necessary. “Well, lucky for you, I happen to live in those dorms. I can walk you there if you’d like.”

You perked up, completely oblivious to the way she was checking you out. The thought didn’t even cross your mind—you were only ever hyperaware of flirtation when it came from Alexia.

“Really? That would be amazing!” you said, your face lighting up with gratitude. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

Her lips curled up into a smirk. “Ona,” she replied, her voice a tad deep and smooth as silk.

As Ona walked you towards the common room, you learned a lot about her. She was a couple years younger than you were and had stayed in this academy for a while but she was planning on moving out to train with a bigger school that was more geared towards sports.

“You must be really good then,” you nodded.

Ona chuckled. “Well, I don’t know if I could say that after my team lost five-nil.” 

You shyly nodded. “Don’t be too hard on yourself,” you comforted. “Alexia was just really on fire today and I didn’t anticipate her to go as hard as she did today.”

Ona nodded, watching your expression carefully. “Alexia… uh, the girl with the number 11?” She asked. “She’s on another level. I’d expect to see the likes of her in La Masia or some other football academy, not in a nun school — no offense.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Yeah… she’s something else,” you said, warmth spreading through your chest at the mention of Alexia. “She deserves better training, that’s for sure.”

Ona was quick to notice the shift in your voice, raising her eyebrows. “Wait, so is she your —” She let the question hang.

Your breath hitched but you tried not to be so obviously taken aback. “My best friend?” You quickly added. “Yeah, she is.”

The brunette laughed, a knowing smirk playing on her lips. “You do know we’re a secular-run school now, right?”

You blinked, tilting your head in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Ona chuckled, her tone light. “I mean, technically we’re still a Catholic school, but we’re not as strict as you guys. Well, at least, ever since the nuns left us,” she explained. “So, everyone here is pretty open-minded.”

You bit your lip, knowing fully well what she was hinting at but you just had no clue what to say. You remained guarded; you still weren’t sure if she was to be trusted.

Ona studied your silence with curiosity before raising an eyebrow. “Wait, don’t tell me you’re a homophobe—”

“No! No!” you blurted out, your hands shooting up in defense. “I—I don’t have a problem with that. Gay people are… they’re great. The best, actually. But Alexia, she’s just a—”

Ona burst out laughing, cutting off your rambling with her genuine amusement. “Okay, okay, chill,” she said, shaking her head as if to put you out of your misery. She pushed open a large wooden door, revealing the bustling common room where a few of her teammates were hanging out. “Come on in.”

The student common room in this school was a stark contrast to the common room in your boarding school. Everyone was chattering loudly. A bunch of the other girls had already taken off their shirts, hanging around in their sports bras. The place wasn’t untidy but it certainly appeared a bit more cluttered with photos tacked all over the bulletin board and random trinkets all over the shelves. 

A couple girls approached Ona, taking notice of you, still dressed in your school uniform. A shorter girl with light-colored eyes smiled. 

“Ona, don’t tell me you’ve called dibs already,” she teased Ona, eyes flickering to your school emblem embroidered on your button up. “On the enemy too.”

Ona chuckled. “Shut up, Pina. She’s just here to hang out until her team comes over.” She told the shorter girl. “Be nice cause we want them to think we’re cool.”

Pina rolled her eyes. “They’re never gonna think we’re cool after they beat us 5-nil.”

“That’s just cause the captains and our goalkeeper are all sick,” A shorter girl with curly hair said before taking a sip of her jug. “We would have crushed them if we hadn’t gone to that sushi place just a few days back.”

“And who exactly recommended that sushi place, Vicky?” Pina said as she stared pointedly at the shorter girl.

Vicky shrugged. “I didn’t hear you complaining when you pounded back that rack of 5 euro sashimi.” 

You chuckled at the banter, feeling a little more at ease. Without warning, Ona slipped an arm around your shoulders, her touch light yet deliberate, and began guiding you toward the sofas at the far end of the room. “Yeah, let’s get away from those two before they give you a headache,” she said with a soft laugh, her voice low and warm. “Want a drink?”

“Uh, yeah, sure. What do you have?” you asked, awkwardly perching on the edge of a worn leather couch positioned beside a refrigerator cluttered with magnets and Polaroid photos.

Ona hummed thoughtfully as she opened the fridge. “Let’s see… we’ve got soda, orange juice, beer—and some kombucha that Aitana’s been brewing. Pretty sure that’s for her stomach problems, though. Oh, and chocolate milk.”

You blinked, taken aback by the casual mention of beer in a boarding school. “Beer?”

“Beer it is,” Ona said with a playful grin, completely misinterpreting your surprise as enthusiasm. She grabbed a can and handed it to you. “Never would’ve pegged a girl from a nun school to be a beer drinker, but here you go.”

You took it cautiously, unsure of how to politely decline. “Uh… thanks.” You said as you carefully ran your fingers through the rim of the can.

Ona seemed to catch your reluctance as she plopped down beside you, her thigh brushing against yours. “Oh, my bad. Where are my manners?” she said, reaching over to take the can back. With a deft motion, she cracked it open, a slight smirk tugging at her lips. “Here you go, pretty.”

You smiled nervously and took a small sip. The bitter taste hit you immediately, and your face scrunched up in response, unable to hide disgust.

Ona noticed and laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Not a fan of beer, huh?”

You shook your head, feeling a little embarrassed.

“No worries, I’ve got you,” she said, effortlessly taking the can from your hands. “I’ll finish this, and I’ll grab you some water. Sounds good?”

You nodded, grateful. Ona leaned back against the couch, bringing the can to her lips. She paused deliberately, taking a slow sip from the same spot you had. Her gaze flickered toward you, a playful glint in her eyes. It was obvious she was trying to flirt, but the meaning went right over your head. All you could think was how friendly and helpful she was.

As she stood to grab you some water, she looked over to you. “So, how’s nun school treating you?” She asked before handing you a glass of chilled water. “You must have stories to tell.”

You chuckled. “Well, it’s… okay,” you said cautiously, tucking a hair behind your ear. “I mean, I’ve been there all my life so it’s all I’ve ever known really.”

Ona’s eyes widened. “You’ve been in nun school since you were a kid?” She said with an incredulous tone. “I go to this school and I already feel crazy sometimes. I can’t imagine how I’d survive your school.”

You told Ona more about your life at Santa Eulalia, and just how strict it was — the curfew, the rules on leaving the premises, the uniform rules, the rules on visitation, and how rare it was that you got to see your family.

“And our common rooms have to be pristine,” you shared. “We can only have decorations if it’s related to Christianity. So, crosses and doves — all that.”

Ona shook her head. “No way.”

You nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at your lips. “Oh, and no music either, unless it’s spiritual or instrumental — like piano or violins,” you explained. “Some of the girls tried sneaking in iPods with instrumental versions of popular songs, but the sisters caught on and banned those too.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Ona said, looking genuinely horrified. With a playful glint in her eye, she reached over, taking your half-empty glass of water and replacing it with her can of beer. “Okay, I’ve changed my mind. You need to drink this. Live a little.”

You shook your head, laughing at her antics. “I’m fine, really,” you said, but there was an undeniable warmth in her playful insistence.

“So, what changed?” Ona asked, leaning closer, her curiosity clear. “You said you didn’t think of it as strict and overbearing until recently. What happened?”

Well, I met Alexia, you thought but kept to yourself.

Before you could come up with an answer, the sound of excited greetings filled the room. Your heart leapt as your teammates entered the common area, and your eyes immediately found the familiar sight of your girlfriend among them. She looked like she had just taken a bath, hair down and damp, and changed into a fresh set of clothes.

Your lips curled into a smile.

But Alexia’s expression was far less cheerful. Her brows knitted together as her gaze landed on you sitting so close to Ona. Her eyes flickered to the girl’s arm stretched across the back of the sofa, inches from your shoulder, and then to the can of beer in your hand.

Alexia’s jaw tightened. She was never the jealous type, but something about the way Ona looked at you — smug and a little too comfortable — set her on edge. She figured she was just protective because of how sheltered and clueless you were. 

She walked towards you and Ona. You both stood and Ona offered a hand to Alexia which Alexia reluctantly shook. “You played great,” she complimented your girlfriend, making you smile at the fact that Alexia was being appreciated.

Alexia nodded stoically. “Thanks,” she said before turning to you. “Monjita, what do you have there?”

You looked down to your hands and chuckled. “Oh! It’s beer,” you said shocked by the sight of it. “I tasted it but didn’t like it. You want it?”

You thrusted the can towards your girlfriend who took it reluctantly. 

Ona smiled, “I’ve drunk most of it already while this pretty girl,” she wrapped an arm around you, “barely even had a sip.”

Alexia’s jaw clenched, annoyed by the shorter brunette. Why is she sharing a beer with this girl?

She set the can down on a nearby table. “Do you wanna go on a walk with me, monjita?”

You nodded enthusiastically as you trailed after Alexia, giving Ona a polite goodbye and thanks for her warm accommodations.

As you moved closer to Alexia, it was her turn to wrap an arm around you and throw a quick, snide look at Ona. 

“I thought you guys would never come. Y'all were taking so long,” you told your girlfriend. “Thankfully, the other team was incredibly nice. Ona seems really cool too.”

“Yeah, real cool.” Her voice said, dripping with sarcasm.

You looked quizzically at your girlfriend but didn’t prod anymore. “You did so good, by the way.” You hummed as Alexia led you back to the room she was staying in with the other girls. “You played like a pro. It was insane.”

Alexia hummed as she shut the door behind you two. Just as you were about to part your lips to say something, Alexia’s lips crashed into yours, kissing you.

She pulled away and a smile finally appeared on her face. “I just had to do that to feel better,” she said.

“W-what?”

“That Ona girl was all over you,” Alexia said as she walked over to what seemed like her bed, grabbing the brush she left on top, unable to brush her hair earlier as she had rushed out of the showers to head to you. “It made me feel a bit jealous.”

You smirked as you walked up to her. You sat on top of Alexia’s lap and grabbed the brush from her, doing the brushing instead. Sure, given your position, you weren’t doing a great job at brushing but Alexia didn’t mind. She loved having you on top of her.

“Why would you be jealous, Ale?” You cooed. “You know I’m yours already.”

She huffed, feeling a tad insecure, which made her feel silly. She was the one who had just won and the one who had a beautiful girlfriend on her lap but she still felt uneasy. 

What if she’s only with me because I’m convenient, the doubtful thought flickered in Alexia’s mind.

You noticed your girlfriend’s gloomy expression. You grabbed her face and forced her to look at you. Your eyes flickered through her face. “Ale, you know I only love you, right?”

“Hmm,” she smiled, all worries dissipating. “You love me?”

You smiled back before planting a kiss on her lips. “Yes, silly,” you said. “I love you so don’t be jealous anymore.”

Alexia leaned forward to catch another kiss from you. “I love you too, monjita.” She said warmly. 

You continued to brush her hair as she held you close to her. Alexia sighed. “I just really worried about seeing that girl interested in you,” she said. “She seems like she’d be your type.”

You laughed loudly. “My type? Alexia Putellas, you’re my type.”

Your girlfriend looked at you with a pouty expression which you just chuckled at. “I didn’t even have a crush until you came along.” You reminded her. “How can I have a type who isn’t you?”

Alexia’s worries were eased. “Okay, okay,” she said. “Maybe I was just being ridiculous about it.”

Her eyes fluttered to your lips. “It wouldn't hurt if you kissed me to remind me again that I’m your type.”

You rolled your eyes but shifted your position so that you’d be straddling Alexia. You dropped the brush to your side before you leaned in to capture Alexia’s lips with yours.

Alexia’s hands hiked up your long skirt, pushing it up so that the long fabric wouldn’t be that in the way. She put her hands underneath the skirt and held your ass with both hands. You gasped against her mouth once you felt her squeeze them.

You continued to kiss your girlfriend deeply, parting your lips to let her slip her tongue inside you. You moaned as you grinded your hips against her lap.

The kiss was just starting to heat up when the doors suddenly creaked open. You two suddenly jumped from the bed, apart from each other.

You looked over to the door to see Maria and Ingrid, looking just as confused as startled as you were. You felt your heart pound against your chest as you quickly shook your head and held your hands up in defense.

“We… we were just…” you stammered, your hands flying up in defense. “I was helping Alexia brush her hair.”

Maria closed the door behind her, slowly shaking her head. “Uh-huh,” she murmured, clearly not buying a word. She turned back toward you and Alexia, her expression unreadable. Ingrid’s gaze darted between you two, her lips pressed in a thin line.

Feeling the silence stretch on, you blurted, “Alexia, she just had—”

“Monjita,” Alexia interrupted, shooting you a warning look.

You blinked, looking at Alexia then her two roommates, still confused. “W-what? Are you going to tell Sister—”

Ingrid stepped forward, raising a hand to cut you off. “Relax, darling,” she said calmly, though her tone was firm. “We’ve always known you two were… a thing. And no, we’re not going to tell anyone.”

You exhaled shakily, relief mixing with disbelief as you tried to process her words. “How did you…?” You trailed off, looking between Ingrid and Maria. “When did you…?”

You threw a look at Alexia who looked just as startled. Ingrid smiled at you. “You two weren’t exactly the most subtle,” she said before looking at Maria. “Well, to us, anyway.”

Alexia glanced at Ingrid and then Maria before it clicked inside her brain. “Oh!” She said. “You two are also—”

“Yep,” Maria confirmed with a nod, crossing her arms. “Since Ingrid moved to Santa Eulalia.”

It took you a moment longer to process, but when it clicked, the realization hit you like a ton of bricks. The two had always been inseparable, practically glued to each other’s side, but you’d chalked it up to just being teammates. 

“Oh!”

Ingrid chuckled at your stunned expression. “I’m sorry we didn’t tell you,” she said, stepping closer to take your hand reassuringly. “But we didn’t know if you’d… be okay with it. You know how it is.”

You nodded, still dazed.

“But I’m glad we can finally be open about this now,” Ingrid added with a warm smile before pulling you into a tight hug.

When she pulled away, her expression grew serious, her gaze shifting between you and Alexia. “Okay, now that the gushy part is over…” she began. “I need to scold you two.”

“Yeah,” Maria chimed in, rubbing the back of her neck. “Kissing with the door unlocked? Rookie move.”

Ingrid folded her arms, her tone sharpening. “Look, we’re happy for you, truly. But you two need to be more careful.”

Maria nodded in agreement, her voice quieter but equally firm. “Not everyone’s going to be as accepting as we are. You can’t even trust people who seem okay or cool. It’s not worth the risk.” She looked at Alexia. “Which is why we never told you, even if you reeked of gay.”

Ingrid laughed at her girlfriend’s comment as Alexia just shrugged and raised her eyebrows. 

Ingrid sighed and looked back at you. “Just be careful, okay?” She hummed. “People can be cruel. Trust us… we know.”

You nodded cautiously. A growing anxiety filled you even though your friends had practically reassured you. You looked over to Alexia who looked just reassured.

Even if you got lucky now, with just Ingrid and Maria finding you, you know you had to be more careful later on. 

You and Alexia agreed to keep the PDA on the low while you were around peers, taking a page out of Ingrid and Maria’s book wherein while they were always together, it would be hard to decipher they were a couple.

It was difficult for Alexia especially when everyone agreed to have a makeshift party after dinner in the common room with the other team. While most of the more conservative girls from your school opted out and chose to turn in early instead, a few decided to let loose and have fun with the girls from the hosting school.

Her annoyance primarily came from Ona constantly hovering around you, obviously taking an interest in you. You weren’t having much fun either, being apart from Alexia most of the time so you turned over early, using the excuse that Sister Catherine wouldn’t be pleased with you staying out too late.

Alexia watched Ona become deflated and annoyed as her attempts at flirtation had gone unappreciated, which just made Alexia feel in a better mood.

But as the night wore on, with everyone having fun and letting loose in the common room, Alexia just wanted to sneak over to your room again and just hold you. No sneaky business this time; she just missed a proper cuddle. But she knew there was no way that that was happening tonight.

Sighing deeply, she sat on the unoccupied couch after grabbing a beer, savoring the taste of it fully knowing it would take probably a year for her to taste alcohol again. To her dismay, Ona walked over to her, plopping beside her. 

“So, tell me,” the shorter girl asked. “How’d you manage to bag the hottest girl in your school?”

Alexia’s jaw clenched, her expression unreadable as she brought her beer to her lips. “Don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied coolly, her voice void of any emotion as she took a swig of her beer.

Ona chuckled knowingly. “Come on, it’s so obvious. You were practically glaring at us the entire time we were talking,” she teased. Her grin widened as she added, “That’s the only explanation I’m willing to accept. There’s no way someone like her wouldn’t be into me unless—well, unless she’s already taken.”

Alexia hummed, smirking. “Maybe she just doesn’t like you,” she shrugged before downing her beer. “She might just like someone taller and less full of herself, that’s all.”

Ona scoffed with a breathy chuckle, not offended but just amused at the passive-aggressive statement, as she watched Alexia stand up and walk over to Ingrid and Maria to join their group which was playing a silly drinking game.

At the moment, Alexia felt like it was such a mic drop moment but she was quick to regret downing that last beer, along with the other drinks she had after, the next morning when her head was pounding. 

Her teammates basically had to drag her out of bed the next day to get dressed and attend the mass.  Arriving at the chapel, they were forced to slink into the back row, earning a few stern glances from the sisters at the front.

Slouched in her seat, Alexia pressed her fingers to her temples, trying to ignore the hammering in her skull. But as the initial prayers began, her gaze wandered, drifting to the front row where you sat.

You were impossible to miss. The bright lights directed at the altar bounced against the wall, streaming onto you with a soft glow. Your hair was styled in a neat half-ponytail, and your pristine uniform was ironed perfectly. Alexia couldn’t help but stare, her heart skipping a beat at how angelic you looked.

She leaned back slightly, trying to mask her dazed expression, but her mind was far from the mass. Instead, it replayed the events of the last time you both were in this chapel. A rouge tint covered the Catalan’s cheeks as she smiled at the memory. How she would have loved to be beside you at that moment just to teasingly raise her eyebrows at you and watch you get flustered.

Alexia could barely pay attention to the mass, mind shifting from thinking about you to internally complaining about how painful her head felt. She wished she grabbed a bottle of water before rushing to the chapel to feel at least a bit less dehydrated.

She tried to appear less hungover and dehydrated when it was time for communion when she had to pass by the first row where you and the nuns were sitting. As she passed the first row, her eyes flicked to you again. She could feel Sister Jude’s sharp gaze on her and heard the nun mutter something under her breath about Alexia’s appearance — something about her “unironed shirt” and  “unkempt hair.”

But Alexia didn’t care.

Her focus was entirely on you. Your eyes met hers for the briefest moment, and your cheeks flushed a soft pink as you quickly looked away. The sight of your bashful expression made her forget the ache in her head and the disapproving glares of the sisters.

If she could, she would have teased you right then and there — raised her eyebrows suggestively or whispered something cheeky just to see you flustered. But with Sister Jude’s watchful eyes on her, Alexia forced herself to keep moving, a small smirk tugging at her lips.

As she reached the altar, she thought to herself. They can glare at me all they want. None of it matters as long as she looks at me like that.

When the mass concluded, the nuns called everyone over to the courtyard to discuss the rules for the much-anticipated day out. The group shuffled into a loose circle, the excitement palpable despite the stern expressions of the sisters.

“And girls, remember,” Sister Ruth said in a firm voice. “You are wearing your school shirt with the school emblem. This means you carry the identity of the school with you so you must uphold the values of our beloved institution.”

The group nodded obediently, though you could sense the collective impatience bubbling beneath the surface.

Sister Jude stepped forward, her sharp eyes scanning the students. “Please pair up and ensure at least one of you has a watch to keep track of time. Anyone who arrives at the bus a minute later than the scheduled departure will receive an infraction. No exceptions.”

Sister Catherine went around handing out your maps and envelopes with your modest allowance. 

“Okay, girls, pair up now and remember the watch thing.” Sister Catherine said after handing over the items to everyone.

You smiled shyly at Alexia who confidently walked over to you. All headaches and sores seemed to dissipate whenever you were around her.

“Well, hello, stranger.” She teased, biting her lip as she looked at you.

You felt a blush rise to your cheeks, and you quickly glanced around to check if any of the nuns were paying attention. “Ale, don’t be too…” you trailed off, hoping she’d catch the warning in your tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh, swatting at her playfully when she tried to snake a hand around your waist. “You’re impossible,” you muttered under your breath, but the fondness in your voice was unmistakable.

Before the moment could linger, the nuns began organizing everyone into a line to board the bus. Alexia kept close to you, her arm brushing against yours as the group shuffled forward. Once you were seated, she wasted no time sprawling into her seat beside you, her long legs stretching slightly into the aisle.

You opened the map eagerly, your finger tracing the streets and landmarks marked in bold print. There was a red circle the nuns had drawn on to the map, which Sister Jude was firm on reminding everyone earlier that it was the limited parameters in which you all could roam around; they didn’t want anyone running farther than it.

“Oh, Ale, we should try this place,” you began, pointing to a gelato shop well within the confines of a parameter. “I’ve been craving a good gelato for ages now”

Alexia leaned closer, her chin nearly resting on your shoulder as she followed your finger. “Hmm, I don’t know,” she mused, using the red circle more as a go beyond this area sign. “That looks like it’s in nun territory. Too risky.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes as Alexia leaned closer to study the fine paper of the map spread across your lap. She hummed in thought, her finger grazing various spots before she pressed it firmly on a location just beyond the red circle that marked the boundary.

“Look, monjita,” Alexia teased, a playful smirk tugging at her lips. “This one says homemade gelato, and it’s right beside a jewelry shop.”

You raised an eyebrow, glancing skeptically at the spot she was pointing to. “I don’t know, Ale,” you murmured, lowering your voice. “What if the nuns catch us?”

Alexia let out an exaggerated groan, rolling her eyes. “Please, it’s like ten meters outside the parameter. They’ll be too excited being out and about to even think about exploring beyond the red circle. And think about it—” she leaned in, her hazel eyes gleaming mischievously, “we’d get to comfortably act like a couple without worrying too much.”

You hummed, contemplating. Alexia added on, “And, we can visit the jewelry shop nearby. It says it’s handmade so you can ask the shopkeeper about how she makes them.”

Your lips twitched, fighting back a smile. You’ve always wanted to explore jewelry design and crafting, and Alexia knew that. What you didn’t know, however, was that Alexia had secretly brought along some of her savings, fully planning to surprise you with an early Christmas gift.

Before you could respond, Sister Jude’s sharp voice cut through the low chatter on the bus. “Girls, one final reminder before we leave,” she announced, standing at the front of the aisle with her hands clasped tightly in front of her. “Stay within the marked areas on your maps, return to the bus on time, and for heaven’s sake, do not make a scene. Is that understood?”

A chorus of “Yes, Sister Jude” echoed through the bus, though you and Alexia exchanged a knowing glance, biting back laughter.

As the bus came to a stop, everyone began shuffling out in pairs. You and Alexia hung back slightly, waiting until the nuns were preoccupied with handing out last-minute instructions. The moment you stepped off the bus and out of their line of sight, Alexia slipped her hand into yours, her fingers intertwining with a natural ease.

She gave your hand a light squeeze before pulling you closer, pressing a quick kiss to your temple. “There,” she said with a grin, her voice soft. “Finally.”

You blushed, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. “Ale, you’re going to get us in trouble,” you muttered, though you didn’t pull away.

“Relax,” she said, brushing her thumb over your knuckles. “We’re just two innocent best friends holding hands. Totally normal.”

Alexia and you had begun wandering towards the direction of the gelato stop, occasionally stopping to look through shopfronts and the animals that passed by with their owners. Whenever a small dog passed by, Alexia gushed at it, even going out to say a small bon dia to every dog, surprising you. “Never pegged you to be such a dog lover.”

Alexia nodded. “I’ve always wanted a dog, a small one like the one.” She shared, before moving her hand from yours to around your shoulder. “But my grandparents were allergic so all we had were stupid fish.”

You chuckled, biting your lip as you got an idea. “Well, we can always just buy a dog then,” you chirped. “It can live in our apartment since the owner did say the building is pet-friendly.”

Alexia immediately caught on to your roleplaying and played along. “Oh, but honey, are you sure you’d be fine with it? What if it poops all over our apartment?”

You smiled widely. “Well… I’ll make you pick it up then.” 

“Sure,” she hummed. “Or we can just hire a dog nanny! I mean, we both make so much money anyway now that you practically own Cartier and I’m a big-time football superstar!”

You nodded. “A dog nanny it is.”

You looked up to her, locking eyes before you both burst into a laugh at yourselves. Alexia shook her head, “But seriously, if we do leave that school, would you like to…” she trailed off, worrying it would be too soon to even bring it up.

You squeezed the hand around your shoulder with your own, making Alexia meet your eyes. “Of course, Alexia,” you said sincerely. “We’ll get a place of our own, adopt a dog – maybe, not a dog nanny yet – but yeah…”

Alexia’s eyes warmed visibly. She exhaled a quiet laugh but there was a hint of emotion to it. She didn’t want to be overly emotional over something so small so she just stayed silent, smiling to herself.

“Oh look,” Alexia pointed. “It’s the gelato shop.”

The shop was small and inviting, with an intricately painted sign overhead that read Gelateria Fiori. The front was painted with white and light pink stripes and there was a string of fairy lights hanging above the sign. 

You stepped inside, holding hands with Alexia, immediately overwhelmed by the aroma of fresh waffle cones and a variety of flavors. The two of you peered into the display with handwritten signs of traditional and more unusual flavors: Pistachio, Stracciatella, Chocolate, Vanilla, Lavender Honey, Mint, and even a bunch more.

Alexia chuckled at your wide-eyed expression. “You look like a kid in a candy store.”

You beamed at her. “How aren’t you excited?” You said, unable to contain your excitement. “Everything here looks so good.”

Without hesitation, you leaned over the counter and began asking the worker for samples, your voice bubbling with enthusiasm. Alexia stayed back, watching with a soft smile as you tasted flavor after flavor. There was a childlike wonder in your eyes, and it made her chest feel warm.

You hummed happily after trying the Stracciatella. “Why are all the flavors so good?” you groaned, turning to Alexia with an exaggerated pout. “Maybe having ice cream before lunch wasn’t such a good idea.”

Alexia smiled, tucking a hair behind your ear, happy to see you be so excited over ice cream. “Let’s be bad, angel,” she said in a low voice. “Let’s have ice cream for lunch.”

Your cheeks warmed at her touch, but you laughed, the playfulness in her tone impossible to resist. “Alright,” you said, already scanning the counter again. “If we’re being bad, I’m going all out.”

You ended up ordering three scoops of different flavors, piling them high in a waffle cone. Alexia went for a parfait, elegantly layered with fruit and gelato. The two of you found a cozy corner table by the window, the faint sound of the street outside blending with your quiet chatter.

As you dug into your ice cream, Alexia couldn’t help but watch you with a fond expression. You caught her gaze and tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “Ale, why are you staring at me like that?”

“I have an idea,” Alexia smiled as her lips curled into a smile, swirling her spoon around in her parfait. “Why don’t we pretend this is a first date?”

You tilted your head. “First date?”

“Yeah, I mean, we never really had a real first date. I just met you, moved in, and lived with you ever since — talk about UHAUL.” She joked which you cautiously laughed at, not understanding the joke reference. She smiled, forgetting you were the sheltered angel that you were, always so clueless to pop culture references. She exhaled. “Okay, I’ll start – hey, I’m Alexia.”

You chuckled, introducing yourself before stretching your hand to shake hers. “Nice to meet you, Alexia.”

“So, I like football and I like going to the beach and having a swim,” she said, putting a finger to her chin, pretending to think. “Oh, and I like pretty, innocent girls and how they blush whenever I look at them.”

“Girls – plural?” You playfully cocked an eyebrow at her.

“First date and you’re jealous already?” She teased, before putting a spoonful of ice cream in her mouth.She nodded. “But… I guess, I do like possessive girls.”

You two chuckled. The pretend date continued with you two being silly over your fantasies of delusion. No matter how ridiculous it was, it kinda felt like a real first date. It gave you the normalcy that being in a boarding school deprived you of.

After you finished your ice cream, you walked over to the nearby jewelry shop. The storefront had an inviting and esoteric charm with warm light spilling out onto the street. Inside, there were carved wooden displays all over the shop. There were glass cases filled with uniquely crafted items. 

The tall woman with a friendly smile greeted you and Alexia. “Hello, ladies. Looking for anything in particular?”

You bit your lip, thinking about the Euro notes left in your envelope, knowing all you’d be able to afford was maybe the clasp or a steel chain. You nodded with, “Oh, yes, just looking…” 

The clerk gestured for you to browse freely. Alexia leaned in and whispered, “Go ahead, enjoy yourself.” She gave your shoulder a light squeeze before stepping aside, letting you take your time exploring.

You wandered off to the far end of the room, completely captivated by the sparkling displays. Your eyes sparkled with awe as you admired delicate rings, intricate necklaces, and bracelets adorned with gemstones.

While you were lost in admiration, Alexia approached the clerk with a soft smile. Lowering her voice, she said, “So… I really want to get a nice gift for my girlfriend, but I have no idea where to start.”

The clerk’s eyes sparkled. “Ooh, how sweet! So thoughtful at such a young age,” she walked over to grab a velvet box of rings, lifting the glass lid to show Alexia.  “Rings are popular with young couples; you can get her a promise ring, if you’d like.”

Alexia’s eyes carefully scanned the set, touching one that looked like a branch. Her fingers brushed against the texture of the gold ring. “Oh this is gorgeous,” she hummed. “It kinda reminds me of a tree branch.”

The clerk nodded approvingly. “It’s one of our more unique pieces.

Alexia studied the ring for a moment longer before setting it down carefully. It was lovely, but something about it didn’t feel quite right. “Could I put this one aside and look at some necklaces instead?” she asked.

“Of course, dear,” the clerk replied warmly, leading Alexia to another corner of the shop.

They explored several options together—gemstone necklaces, bold statement pieces, and quirky designs with small working watches or abstract shapes. None of them seemed right. The extravagant pieces would be too ostentatious for you while the novelty pieces just felt impersonal.

Then, a glint caught Alexia’s eyes. She walked over to the source, looking into the glass case and she saw the most delicate necklace with a small, intricately designed bird.

The moment Alexia saw it, her eyes lit up. The simplicity and elegance of the piece struck a chord in her. The clerk noticed her reaction and smiled knowingly. Alexia gushed silently. “This is so perfect.”

Alexia touched the charm again, feeling the texture under her touch. It reminded her of your drawings but this time, this bird wasn’t grounded or caged or shot in the heart. It was a bird mid-flight, glowing and sparkling under the light. It was gorgeous but not too flashy — just a small golden bird with its wings outspread on a dainty chain. It was perfect.

Alexia’s face softened into a warm smile. “I’ll take it,” she said without hesitation. Then she paused, a flicker of practicality crossing her mind, realizing she didn’t have an unlimited budget. “Wait… how much is it?”

The clerk chuckled at Alexia's reaction, quoting a price that was comfortably within Alexia’s budget. Relief washed over her — she could afford the necklace and still have enough left for a croissant or a peach later, if you suddenly fancied one.

“Perfect,” Alexia said with a firm nod. She handed over the cash and processed the purchase before calling you over. You turned around to see an excited look on your girlfriend’s face. You smiled and made your way over to her.

Alexia smiled at you. “Close your eyes and turn around,” she said. “I wanna show you something.”

You curiously tilted your head but she just nodded, gesturing for you to trust her. Without another moment of hesitation, you followed her orders, turned around and closed your eyes. “Now, lift up your hair.” Alexia said in a warm, low voice. The excitement was obvious in her tone.

With both hands, you delicately held your hair up as if in a makeshift ponytail as you felt something light be put around your neck. Alexia clasped the necklace from behind, feeling incredibly happy with her purchase. Carefully, she spun you around. “Open your eyes.”

As soon as your eyes fluttered open, the first thing you saw was your girlfriend’s smile, immediately warming your heart. “Look at the mirror, monjita.” 

You nodded as you turned to the mirror propped on the display case and felt your breath get caught in your throat. “Wow, it’s so beautiful,” you didn’t know why but suddenly, tears welled up in your eyes as your hand gently grazed the charm, scared that it would break if you touched it any firmer. “I… it’s so…”

Alexia smiled. “You like it?”

You nodded and quickly wiped the small tears in your eyes as you did. Before you could even whisper to her that you didn’t have the funds to cover it, Alexia smiled and said, “It’s yours.” 

“W-what?”

“I got it for you… as a gift,” Alexia said. “Think of it as an early Christmas present.”

Your mouth practically opened wide as she said it. Your eyes flickered to the reflection of the necklace then back to Alexia. “No, no,” you gushed. “You can’t… it’s too much.”

Alexia shook her head. “I already bought it, and they don’t do refunds.” She joked before putting a hand on your face, using her thumb to rub against your face. “C’mon, just say thanks and promise you’ll take care of it.”

You practically jumped into Alexia’s arms, wrapping your arms around her neck to hold her tightly. “Oh my god, Alexia, this is so nice of you.” You gushed. “I loved it. You’re the actual angel between us.”

Alexia felt herself grow soft and warm as she saw how happy you were. She smiled as she saw you look at yourself in the mirror, touching the necklace. The glow on your face was priceless; you truly looked like an actual angel to her. “Anything for my angel.”

You wanted to kiss Alexia then and there but the presence of the store clerk made you hesitate, settling to plant a kiss on her cheek instead. “Thank you, thank you so much.” You said in a hushed voice.

You two locked eyes for a moment before the store clerk interrupted, “I don’t usually do this but,” she paused to crouch down and grab a wooden box from behind the counter, fishing inside. “And I’m only doing this cause I’m a fan of young love, and I really think you two are cute and — ah, there it is…”

She took out a necklace from the cluttered box. “I actually have the prototype for that necklace,” she said. “It’s not as detailed and clean as the one you got but… I think it would be nice if you two matched.”

The lady handed over a nearly identical necklace. It wasn’t as polished as the one Alexia had bought for you but the difference was not all that different. You took it from her carefully.

“I should buy you this,” you paused to look into your bag where the envelope was. “Well, if it’s within my budget…”

The lady interrupted. “No, no, I’m giving it to you two and it’s not a big deal. It would have just been forgotten in this little box anyway.” She clarified, relieving you. “I think it deserves to belong with its twin and with a beautiful couple who deserve equally beautiful matching statement pieces.”

You thanked the lady endlessly before making your girlfriend turn around. “Okay, Alexia, bend so I can put this on you.” You ordered, trying to sound as confident as she did. She chuckled and bent her knees a bit as she lifted her hair.

You carefully placed the necklace around her neck, making sure to clasp it carefully. She turned around and looked into the mirror, beaming at the sight of the two of you with your matching necklaces.

“You two are so beautiful that I could cry,” the lady gushed, clasping her hands together dramatically. “Please, when the time comes and you two decide to get married, come back and I’ll gladly craft your rings for you – with a very generous discount.” 

You chuckled, cheeks warming at her enthusiasm. You haven't even thought about marriage yet here was some stranger rooting so hard for the two of you that she was determined you'd end up walking down the aisle with Alexia. It was cute.

Before you could respond, Alexia smirked, mischief glinting in her eyes. “What do you think, honey?” she teased, slipping an arm loosely around your shoulders. “A simple gold band with a massive diamond? Maybe… thirteen carats?”  

You shook your head and chuckled before playing along with her silliness. “Oh, absolutely. And don’t forget our darling dog. We'll need to get him a matching golden collar, of course.”  

The two of you burst into laughter, the sound light and unrestrained, filling the cozy jewelry shop like a melody. At that moment, you forgot about boarding school, the high standard you had to uphold, the judgement; it all disappeared like a faint memory.

You glanced at Alexia as her laughter softened, her face still glowing with warmth. There was a lightness in her eyes that made your heart ache in the best way. In that fleeting moment, you felt like two birds flying high, chasing after one another playfully as you chirped gleefully. 

You wished you could feel like that forever – free to love, free to live, free to be who you were without having to live up to who everyone expected you to be. Life would have been so much easier, if it were.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t your life.

After sharing a croissant and a soda on your way back from the jewelry shop, you’d realized that it was almost time for the agreed-upon meet-up. So, Alexia and you ran back with Alexia having to hold back just so she wouldn’t leave you trailing behind.

Once you got to the bus, Sister Jude gave you a faint glare. “You’re late,” she tutted before looking at her watch. “Well… almost late.”

You apologized even if you didn’t do anything wrong. Suddenly, the constrained feeling rushed back in. This was the life you actually had – a life where you had to be the perfect girl, live according to the rules, the bible, to the nun’s expectation. You clutched your necklace nervously as you stepped on the bus, finding comfort in its cold touch.

You sighed. Maybe that taste of freedom was enough for you to realize how desperate you were to leave the school and live the life you actually wanted.

Since returning back from the trip, life at Santa Eulalia felt more suffocating than ever. You’d always known that the school was restrictive but now, it felt unbearable to stay inside the confines of the school. You felt like a bird freed, given a taste of soaring through the sky, only to be captured again and forced back into your cage.

Every task, every class, every Bible reading – it felt like such a burden, holding you down and keeping you from living life.

Alexia noticed the change almost immediately. You talked endlessly about life outside — the places you wanted to see, the people you wanted to meet. You asked her to tell you more stories about her travels, about the countries and cities she’d visited. You even tried to ask her more about football, and what the culture surrounding it was outside the confines of your school.

The once vast halls of the school seemed to shrink around you.

It wasn’t just the yearning for freedom that consumed you; it was the growing doubt in your heart. The blind devotion that once guided you now wavered, replaced by a sense of questioning. For the first time, you started to wonder if you truly believed. You hated how questions were discouraged, and how curiosity was seen as rebellion. You hated how faith often came without explanations, leaving you feeling hollow when you sought deeper understanding.

You tried to keep up appearances for the sisters and your peers. You still bowed your head during prayers and recited the hymns when required, but you were slipping. You no longer volunteered to lead Bible studies, you didn’t initiate faith talks like you once had, and you even forgot to pray before meals.

No one noticed at first, but you did. You felt it in every small way you disconnected from the person you used to be.

One Thursday morning, you woke up to your girlfriend, gently rubbing your shoulder. “Hey sleepyhead,” she cooed. “It’s almost 8 am.”

With those words, you jolted awake; you’ve forgotten about leading early morning prayer. The dorm heads usually took turns leading the morning prayer or liturgy hours with any other student awake and willing to join as early as 6 am. Thursdays were your assigned days but you might have chatted too far into the early morning with Alexia that you failed to wake up in time. 

“Oh my god,” you gasped.

“Hey, hey, relax,” Alexia soothed, placing a calming hand on your arm. “It’s all good. I woke up in time and covered for you. Told the nuns you had a migraine.”

Relief washed over you, and you flung your arms around her. “Alexia, what would I do without you?” you whispered, gratitude spilling over.

Alexia smiled softly, her hand gently rubbing your back. “You’d be fine, monjita. But I gotta say…” she pulled back to look at you, her expression growing serious. “You haven’t seemed like your usual, um, perfectionist self this past week. Don’t get me wrong… I love how laid-back you���ve been lately. It’s nice to see you relax. But…” 

She tilted her head, her warm hazel eyes searching yours. “I feel like something’s off. Is there something wrong?”

You hesitated, biting your lips and unconsciously pulling your blankets up. “Since the trip…” you started. “I just have been feeling… restrained.”

Alexia smiled knowingly, reaching over to tuck stray hairs behind your ear. “Monjita, I get it.” She comforted you. “I’ve been feeling the same thing lately. Ever since our trip, I just miss living a normal life. Even if it did suck seeing girls flirt with you, I felt like that was the sense of normalcy I’ve missed.”

You chuckled a bit before sighing. “I’m just itching to get back out.”

She hummed. “I get it, angel.” She responded. “Only a few more months and we get to leave this place.”

Her words warmed your heart. “Just have to push through the next months,” you repeat to yourself.

You would have thought that you would have learned from the morning prayer incident. 

But this time, the slip-up was bigger. Much bigger.

You’d completely forgotten to prepare the Advent wreath —something you usually planned weeks in advance. Every year, you meticulously decorated it with ribbons, ornaments, and delicate details, knowing how much everyone looked forward to seeing it displayed at Mass. But with how distracted and out of sorts you’d been lately, the task had completely slipped your mind.

You were only reminded when a girl from Ingrid’s dorm asked if you needed more ribbons, offering up her own. She said she didn’t know if you’d still need them, given that you may have been already done with it since the wreath was due that afternoon.

You’ve fallen into a panic, fishing out random stuff from the common room closet and your own craft box. You haphazardly glue-gunned and pieced together a wreath that looked decent for a casual advent display for a small classroom but yours was often used for the mass which all the students attended. It was the kind everyone looked forward to seeing by the altar. Fantastic wreaths were kinda what you’ve become known for in Santa Eulalia.

And now, here it was – your drab, uninspired, and lacklustre wreath.

The nuns’ reactions confirmed your worst fears. As they inspected the wreath, their raised eyebrows and soft but unmistakable tuts cut through you like a blade. Their disappointment was palpable.

You didn’t even try to make an excuse for the subpar quality of it. You just stood there and took in their judgement. The nuns said nothing more than a curt “thanks” with a biting tone.

As you turned to leave, Sister Catherine called out to you. Her voice was gentle, her expression warm — a stark contrast to the others.

“Dear,” she began, her tone kind but measured, “since Edith took over in the library, the books have fallen into a bit of disarray.” She clasped her hands together and asked carefully, “Would you be so kind as to help rearrange them back into proper order? It might take a while though.”

Her smile was warm, but you could feel the weight of the other nuns’ gazes on you, testing your response. After the wreath fiasco, there was no room for refusal even if the last thing you wanted to do was spend an entire day in the library. You acquiesced, forcing a nod and a polite smile.

Sister Catherine thanked you warmly before you walked out, feeling a weight on your shoulders. You were slowly losing care or appreciation about the whole tradition that came with your religion this time of year; it was slowly appearing to you as some cover-up of all the bigotry the beliefs held. But, it still sucked that you let the sisters down.

You were always their favorite, and how couldn’t you be their favorite?

You were on top of things, leading prayers and organizing novenas, even initiating decorating advent wreaths and nativity scenes. You didn’t realize that all your years in the school – working your ass off – was just you eventually setting yourself up for failure.

And you just hated the judgement that came with it, the way the nuns looked at you with such disapproval, as though one mistake had unraveled everything you’d worked for.

They were supposed to be compassionate, understanding, forgiving. But too often, they were rigid and demanding. They expected perfection from you, and the moment you fell short, they were quick to remind you of it.

And the worst part? They didn’t even need to say much. A glance, a raised brow, a click of the tongue  — they knew how to make you feel small without lifting a finger.

You sighed deeply, dragging your feet as you walked away. As much as you wanted to rant about the unfairness of it all, you couldn’t escape the gnawing guilt inside. You’d messed up. You hadn’t been yourself lately, and it was starting to show in ways you couldn’t ignore.

If you didn’t want your cracks to show, you had to pull things together and at least show them you’re good enough – at least, good enough to graduate and leave this academy, once and for all.

Even if your cage was small, the last thing you wanted to do was peck at the hand that kept you in that cage because you knew that in just a few months, you’d be set free.

Alexia was quick to agree to help out in the library. Football training was on hold now that the weather was getting colder and exam season was approaching. It was sad not being able to play her favorite sport but it also meant spending more time with you, even if you two had to endure dusty books and the menial task of organizing them until the late hours of the night.

You got through the day with your new favorite pastime – roleplay.

Often, Alexia and you would play pretend, mostly acting as if you were a normal couple that lived outside the walls. You two were starting to get so good at it that you might as well start an improv club. 

Cleaning up the dishes after lunch? A couple bickering about when they should buy a dishwasher. Polishing the steel vessels used in mass? An aristocratic couple forced to polish their gold-encrusted silverware after they sacked their maids. And now, in the library, still organizing in the late hours, Alexia decided it would be funny practicing pick-up lines on you as if you were meeting for the first time.

“Okay, okay, listen to this one,” Alexia said, placing a book on a shelf you’d struggled to reach earlier. She turned toward you with a mischievous glint in her eye. “Hey, girl, are you a library book?”

You chuckled. “No.”

Alexia rolled her eyes dramatically, groaning as if you’d ruined her performance. “Monjita, you’re supposed to ask why.”

Still laughing, you raised your hands in mock surrender. “Alright, fine. Why am I a book?"

The smile returned on Alexia’s face as she put one hand against the bookshelf, trying to be all suave. “Cause I wanna check you out.”

You let out a sigh, shaking your head at her cheesy delivery. “Even I—your girlfriend — wouldn’t swoon for that.”

“Ouch, monjita!” Alexia groaned, clutching her chest as if wounded. “Okay, okay, let me redeem myself. I’ve got a better one.”

You crossed your arms, raising a skeptical brow. “Alright, impress me.”

She brushed her hair back in an exaggerated motion. “Hey, baby girl, are you a book?”

You squinted, already suspicious. “This is the same one!”

“It’s not, I swear!” she insisted, a playful gleam in her eyes. She looked at you with mock sincerity, as if pleading for one last chance. You sighed, indulging her.

“Alright, fine. Why am I a book?”

Alexia smirked, leaning closer. “Because I just wanna pick you up and spread you wide open.”

Your jaw dropped as your cheeks flushed red. With a gasp, you immediately grabbed the nearest book and smacked her lightly on the arm. Alexia burst into laughter, clutching her sides as she leaned against the shelf for support.

“You’re so disgusting,” you exclaimed. “You should be glad I like you.”

Alexia chuckled, pleased with your response. “If you think I’m so bad at it, why don’t you give it a try.”

You hummed, taking a moment to think as you stacked the books in proper order. You bit your lip and turned to your girlfriend. “Uh, I don’t know,” you said. “I don’t have any pick-up line skills like you do.”

Alexia smiled. “It doesn’t have to be witty or joke-y.” She explained. “Just try flirting with me like we’re meeting for the first time.”

You sighed, pausing. “Uh, hey,” your eyes nervously flickered. “I like your necklace?”

Alexia looked down on her necklace as if surprised it was there. “Oh wow, thanks!” She feigned sincerity, looking up to you. “Yours isn’t so bad either.”

You chuckled, shaking your head, ready to drop the act until Alexia moved closer and touched your necklace. “Our necklaces are pairs so does that make us a pair?” She gushed dramatically.

“Hmm, I guess,” you said, returning to the task of stacking books.

Alexia sighed. “Well, I guess that means we’re soulmates then. Destined to meet each other,” she said as if she were some actress on a stage. “That means we have to kiss now.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes at her. “It might just mean we bought it from the same place?”

Alexia wouldn’t drop the act. She gently took your face, making you look at her. “No, it means we have to kiss.” She said softly with a more genuine tone this time. You smiled as you looked into her eyes, deciding a small kiss wouldn’t hurt considering that it was late into the night and the library was completely empty. You leaned in and gave your girlfriend a small, gentle kiss. You pulled away immediately, biting your lip. 

“Hmm, I guess maybe we are soulmates, my darling necklace-partner.” You said in a soft yet joking tone. She smiled, not moving to lean back. You searched her eyes, hesitating for a moment but you couldn’t resist her.

You put down the book still in your hand and grabbed Alexia’s face, initiating a more intense kiss. Alexia didn’t expect you to kiss her so intensely; all she expected was another soft kiss but who was she to decline a make-out session with her beautiful girlfriend?

Your hands tangled into Alexia’s hair, deepening the kiss. You moaned silently as her hands moved to the small of your back. Even if you kissed Alexia every day, you still were always surprised every time by just how good she was at it. She knew how to tease you, make you moan, and leave you wanting for more with just her kiss.

Kissing Alexia always felt so freeing, so liberating.

“Oh my god.” 

It was soft but it was loud enough for you two to hear and practically jump away from each other. You looked at the far end of the dim aisle you were tucked away in and saw the familiar sight of one of your peers - Anna.

She had a mouth to her hand, stunned by the sight. Soon, she started walking towards you two as you gulped and threw a nervous look at Alexia who seemed to share your anxiety.

“Oh my Lord, I can’t believe it.” The younger girl gasped as she realized that it was you and Alexia that she saw. “I… I heard rumors about Alexia… why she’s here but I would have never thought that you…”

Anna looked at you with shaking eyes and an intense look on her face. “A companion of fools suffers harm.”

“Huh?” Alexia whispered quietly in confusion but you got it immediately. It was the Bible verse you cited to her before.

“You told me that when I got here,” the young girl said, pointing an accusatory finger at you. “You told me to surround myself with good people, people that will make me better.”

You gulped but stayed still, not saying a word.

“And now,” she shifted her gaze to Alexia. “Look at you. You keep a dirty homosexual for company and now, you’re just like her.”

“Anna, it’s not…” Your voice came out weakly. “It isn’t what you think it is.”

She chuckled dryly. “Yeah? Are you gonna lie to me now? Tell me you weren’t just letting her stick her tongue in your mouth?” You were shocked by the sudden outrage coming from this girl. Just months ago, she was timid and shy but you figured that all the time she spent with the nuns may have influenced her, indoctrinating her. 

“Sister Philomena was right,” Anna’s voice shook, confirming your thoughts and speculations. “If you walk this earth with fellow lambs, you will never get lost. If you walk with wolves, you get eaten.”

Alexia stepped forward. “What are you going to do about it? No one’s going to believe you.” She taunted back. “Y/N’s been here longer. She’s established her status in this place. They would take her word over yours.”

Anna frowned. “You seriously still believe that she...” she paused to look at you, “...is still loved and admired by the sisters? For the past few weeks, they’ve been whispering about her incompetence and how she’s been slipping up.”

“And besides, Alexia, maybe you're right and they might still like her but they certainly hate you.” She said. “You’re practically one foot out of the door in this institute. They won't hesitate to expel you.”

“Why?” You asked. “Why are you doing this?”

Anna stared at you like you had just said the most absurd, offensive thing imaginable. Her face twisted with disdain. “Because I love the Lord, and I live by His word,” she declared with fervor. “And when I see depravity — when I see sinners like you — I know it’s my duty to make things right.”

Her words struck you like a slap, leaving you momentarily frozen. Before you could even try to reason with her, Anna had turned on her heel, already running of to tattle the sisters.

“Anna, wait!” you called after her, stepping forward, desperation rising like a tidal wave in your chest. “Please!”

But she didn’t stop.

You felt your knees start to buckle, your body trembling as you were overcome with panic. Before you could collapse, Alexia was suddenly by your side, her strong arms wrapping around you to hold you upright.

“Monjita,” she murmured urgently, her voice low and firm, though you could hear the tremor of tension in it. “It’s going to be okay. We need to run away. Now.”

The tone of Alexia’s voice made you even more nervous. You tried to stop yourself from crying. “W-what?”

“Listen to me.” Alexia placed her hands firmly on your shoulders, forcing you to meet her gaze. Her tone was steady, but there was a sharp edge of urgency behind it. “The best option we have now is to leave. Tonight. Right now.”

“B-but it’s the middle of the night –”

“Please,” she begged. “Trust me.”

You swallowed before nodding, putting all your trust in Alexia even if the doubt never left your mind.  “Okay.”

You both scurried to your dorm room. As soon as you got there, you opened your only duffel bag and filled it with only your jug of water, a few change of clothes, your wallet and your sketchbook. Alexia moved swiftly, taking everything she thought you two would need, thanking herself for saving enough money for you two to at least secure a train ticket to the nearest city.

She took your hand, slinging her bag on her shoulder. “Monjita, we need to go.”

You nodded and held on to her tightly before you two left your dorm room.

You nodded, gripping her hand tightly as she led you out of the dormitory.

The night air was cold and biting as you two hurried down the halls and across the field. Every creak of the floorboards, every rustle of the wind made your heart jump. You could barely hear Alexia’s breathing over the pounding of your own heart.

“Alexia,” you whispered, struggling to keep up with her determined pace. “What if they catch us?”

“They won’t,” she replied firmly, though her grip on your hand tightened. “Just keep moving.”

You looked back once more, nervous that you might catch a glimpse of them running after you two, but you kept running until you finally reached the gates, your breath coming in long gasps. Alexia fumbled with the latch, her fingers cold and trembling. With a faint metallic click, the gate creaked open, and the two of you slipped through, breaking into a run as soon as your feet hit the gravel road.

You two ran and ran. The train station was at least 20 minutes away and you knew there was no way that the nuns – those fragile, aged ladies – could ever catch up to the two of you.

“Stay close,” Alexia said as you finally covered a significant distance from the gates. Alexia breathed heavily, feeling the cold air nip at her skin and make it harder for her to breathe. 

You nodded, even more winded than your girlfriend. “Do you think Anna told them?”

Alexia shook her head. “It doesn’t matter.” She sighed. “We’re out now. They can’t control us.”

A sigh of relief escaped your lips but then the worry lingered not far behind. “But what do we do now? Where do we go?”

“My parents,” she started. “We have to go to the city first since I don’t think our money could cover the cost to our province. I have a friend who works in the city and has a place there. We can call my parents up and ask them for some money so that we can take a train. They’ll help us.”

You nodded, trusting Alexia. You knew that at this point, she too was desperate.

Alexia had always talked about her parents and how loving they were. They only sent her to her grandparents once her father had fallen ill and her grandparents offered to take care of her, financially supporting her and housing her as she attended school. She put up with their religious bullshit, not wanting to worry her parents. She knew they had a lot going on already.

Though, at times, Alexia wished she complained sooner, and told them about how unbearable life was being forced to live by the Bible. But then again, that would have meant that she would never have met you.

You finally reached the train station, feeling a rush of relief through you. It was scary, not knowing what would happen next or even how your parents would react if they found out about you running off with a girl. But you figured that you’d rather free-fall into the unknown than willingly walk back into your own cage.

Alexia led the way to the ticket counter, her hand gripping yours tightly as if afraid to let go. At the booth, she leaned forward, pointing to a stop on the map. “Two tickets, please,” she said, her voice strained but steady.

The ticket agent nodded, starting to type.

For a moment, you began to relax. The station was quiet, almost empty, and the thought of being on a train heading somewhere — anywhere — was exhilarating. But then, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed through the station.

You looked over to the source of the sound and tugged at Alexia’s sleeves. She looked over and she gulped, looking at your eyes apologetically, as if she could have gotten you out of there faster.

The policemen approached, their heavy boots thudding against the tile. One of them, a stocky man with a clipboard in hand, stopped in front of you.

“Evening, ladies,” he said, flipping through the report. “Got a call from the nearby academy. Two students ran off with some… golden crucifixes?” His tone was dry, almost dismissive as if he didn’t believe it himself. “That wouldn’t happen to be you, would it?”

Alexia stood straighter, her voice firm. “No, officer, we didn’t steal anything.”

The cops looked at you two skeptically. “Right. Well, we don’t have the authority to search you here,” he said, his voice low and measured. “But we do need to escort you back to the school until we can get the proper paperwork sorted.”

Your voice quivered. “Please, officer, we were just leaving the school. We can show you our bags willingly just to show you we haven’t stolen anything. Please."

The tall officer glanced at his partner, who shrugged lazily. “Sorry, kid. Not how this works. We’ve got procedures.” He stepped closer, his tone hardening. “Now let’s go. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Your heart sank as the gravity of the situation hit you. The station, once a beacon of freedom, now felt like a trap. You glanced at Alexia, whose jaw was clenched in frustration. Her hand squeezed yours, a silent attempt to reassure you, but you both knew the truth: your escape had been cut short.

It felt like a hunter’s arrow had struck your wings — wounding you, grounding you just when you’d thought you were about to soar. Nothing too fatal, just enough to wound a part of your wings, just enough to get you back into that cage.

The next events felt like a blur. 

You held hands the entire way home and were only forced apart when Alexia was taken away by the nuns. You cried silently, clutching onto your jacket tightly as the nuns instructed you to head on to the other dorm building, to be watched over by another dorm head.

Luckily, it was Ingrid tasked to guard over you.

As soon as the door behind the two of you was shut, Ingrid came running to you, holding you in her arms as you sobbed, heaving with cries of sadness. She tried to console you but even she didn’t know what she would do if she were in your position.

“It’s going to be alright, darling,” she said, trying to sound as convincing as she could, even if she didn’t believe herself. “Shhh, you’ll be okay.”

You knew it was far from over, with the worst yet to come. Yet, you stayed in Ingrid’s arms, wounded and helpless, knowing that not even god could free you now.

‎ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ACT VI. Falling, Never to Fly Again

It was 5 am when you were tapped awake by Ingrid. It didn’t take too much to wake you; you were barely asleep. Ingrid just nodded at you, giving you an affirmative look as she was not able to say anything without bringing suspicion to herself.

As you stood, you immediately noticed several sisters in Ingrid’s dorm room, standing tall as they looked at you with judgment in their eyes. Even the warm and energetic Sister Catherine avoided your sight, shaking her head as you passed her. 

They kept a close distance behind you and Ingrid as Ingrid led you to Sister Philomena’s office. A flashback of the last time Ingrid led you to the Sister Superior’s office flashed through your mind but this time, it felt worse. It was more silent and a lot colder. Ingrid couldn’t calm you down with her words or even hold your hand in solidarity as the nuns kept a watchful eye on both of you.

You didn’t know what to expect. You’ve spent the past hours thinking up the most doomed scenarios in your head and yet you still weren’t sure what you would face.

The door creaked open, revealing Sister Philomena seated in her high-backed chair, her face contorted into a mask of disapproval. Her piercing gaze bore into you, and you felt your breath hitch as the heavy atmosphere of the room settled over you. Your eyes darted around, desperate to find Alexia, but she was nowhere in sight.

“She’s not here,” Sister Philomena said sharply, answering your unspoken question. Her tone was calm, yet laced with venom. She motioned with a flick of her hand, and Ingrid hesitated before shutting the door behind her. You caught one last glimpse of Ingrid’s concerned face before you were left alone with the Sister Superior and the other nuns standing behind you.

The room felt suffocating, the walls pressing in as you stepped forward, legs trembling. You stood before the massive wooden desk, and Sister Philomena slowly raised her eyes to meet yours. Her gaze was sharp and unwavering, filled with animosity and judgement.

“Of all the students that have walked these halls and worn the Institute’s badge,” she pointed at you. “You were the one I was certain would walk the right path.”

“We always knew you would do the right thing, say the right thing,” she continued, with a steady yet firm voice. “You were the one we trusted to uphold the values and walk the rightful path, the path towards God. You were the one I least expected to stray.”

Her finger pointed accusingly at you. “We always trusted you to do the right thing. To be the right thing. You were meant to be a shining example, a beacon of virtue, a reflection of the teachings of Christ Himself. And now…” Her voice faltered, though her anger did not. “Now you’ve let us down.”

You dropped your eyes to the floor, unable to withstand her withering glare. She continued, her voice rising slightly, her frustration palpable. “You have not only defied the rules of this institution, but you have defied God’s will. And for what? For her?” 

You remained steady and unmoving, not wanting to say or do anything that could frustrate her even more. The sister clicked her tongue, pausing to see if you would speak up or react but you froze in your spot, not wanting to give her anything to work with.

The sister tapped her pen on the desk, the sharp sound filling the silent room. The clicking sound sent shivers down your spine as it cracked through the silence each time.

“I called your parents.”

Your head shot up, your heart sinking like a stone in water. The blood drained from your face as her words registered. Sister Philomena smirked at your reaction, though her eyes remained devoid of any warmth.

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said with a mocking tone. “I told them it wasn’t your fault.”

You parted your mouth to say something but nothing escaped. The sister hummed. “I told them you were simply kidnapped by her,” she added. “That you were an unwilling victim to her perversion.”

Your lips quivered at her words as tears welled up in your eyes as you shook your head. “No, sister, no…” you whispered, “that isn’t true…”

“Not true?” she interrupted, her voice cold and sharp. “So you mean to tell me you went willingly? That you abandoned the teachings of this sacred institution? That you love her?” She said the word with such disdain that it made you flinch.

Just as you were about to respond, she held up a hand.

“Choose your words carefully,” she warned, her tone grave. “I have told your parents what I believe to be the truth: that you are a victim of her depravity. A victim, mind you, who can still be saved by this Institution."

She paused. "But if you tell me now that I am mistaken — if you insist that you love her — then there will be no redemption for you here. We will have to resort to graver measures.”

"Graver measures?"

Her next words came slowly, deliberately. “I will have no choice but to send you to the cloistered nuns in La Cabrera,” she said as she stared at you. “There, within the silence of stone walls and under the rule of silence, isolation, and poverty, you may reflect on your sins and beg for your soul’s redemption. Perhaps, in time, your spirit can be salvaged.”

You tried to keep yourself together but both options felt like a trap. It was as if you were never meant for freedom, only being given a choice of what cage you would like to confine yourself in.

You shook your head as the tears continued to stream endlessly down your face. Sister Superior glared at you, utterly disgusted by what has become of you.

“You must decide now what the truth is,” she commanded, her words echoing through the suffocating room. “Admit that you were a victim — corrupted, deceived, and led astray by that lesbian — or accept your fate as we send you off to the cloistered sisters this very evening.”

A sob escaped your mouth as you fell to your knees, doubling over. The sisters behind tried to step closer to you, as if to help you up but the sister superior’s raised hand froze them in their tracks. Her eyes flicked toward them, sharp and unrelenting, giving them a silent instruction. They obeyed the unspoken command, retreating quietly. The sound of their hesitant shuffling and the click of the closing door left the room cloaked in unbearable silence, broken only by your wrenching sobs.

Sister Philomena did not speak. She did not comfort you. She waited. Her gaze bore into you, her lips pressed into a thin line as she impatiently watched you hunch over yourself on the floor. You couldn’t control yourself as you sobbed, your cries filling every corner of the room. The tension pressed down on you, suffocating, until finally, the sound of her hand slamming against the table shattered the air like a crack of thunder.

“Speak now,” she ordered, shouting out loud with a venomous voice. She had grown impatient with you. “Tell me what the truth is.”

You cried, blubbering and struggling to form words. You gasped for air as you tried to formulate a coherent sentence. Behind you, you could hear the sister’s hesitant shuffling as they entered back into the room. It was as if they wanted to step forward and console you but ultimately, no one came to comfort you. 

You were put in an insanely difficult situation, forced to decide – deny the love that had changed your life, pretend it was a sin and that you were led astray, painting Alexia as some evil temptress but save yourself... or tell the truth, bare your soul, and end up locked up in some convent, significantly reducing your chances of seeing Alexia ever again.

Your thoughts were cut short by another thunderous sound of the sister’s hand on the table. “Speak.”

You tried to catch your breath and nodded, looking up to her from where you were kneeling. With a shaking voice, you said. “I was a victim.”

She nodded with a sharp look. “And what did she do to you?”

You felt your throat burn as you spoke up, trying to sound firm and honest, but ultimately failing as more tears fell from your eyes. “She corrupted me.”

The nun nodded. “And do you love her?”

Your breath caught. The question pierced through every defense you had left. Your entire body shook as you tried to find the strength to deny Alexia. “No, sister.”

She clicked her tongue. “You need to say it.”

“No, sister, I don’t lo–” your voice cracked as you tried to suppress the sobs.

You looked up and your eyes met Sister Philomena’s cold gaze, her face steady and emotionless. “Answer properly. Do you love her?”

A deep, shuddering breath as you mustered up all your energy. You met her eyes once more. “No, sister, I do not love her.”

A thick silence hung in the air, suffocating and heavy. Then Sister Philomena straightened, her voice cutting like a blade. “Good,” she said coldly, her words void of compassion. Her eyes shifted past you. “Hear that? She never loved you, Alexia. You were wrong.”

The floor seemed to drop out from under you. You spun around, your heart plummeting as you saw her. Alexia stood near the doorway with the other sisters, her shoulders hunched and her head bowed. Her hazel eyes glistened with tears as she stared at the ground, refusing to meet your gaze. Her hands were clenched into tight fists at her sides, her body trembling with the effort to hold herself together. The sisters had brought her into the room just as you denied your love.

You felt your heart pang as you heard her sniffle, trying so hard to hold back tears, and you just knew that at that moment, you broke her heart.

“Alexia,” you gasped, your voice breaking as you said. Just as you were about to reach for her and explain, Sister Ruth and Sister Jude led her out of the room as swiftly as they brought her in, holding her on either side as if she would try to escape.

“Alexia!” You shouted, ready to stand and run after her but Sister Catherine had rushed to you, holding you into a tight hug, pretending to console you just to hold you down in your spot.

As you watched the love of your life disappear before you, you fell limp into Sister Catherine’s arms, sobbing as you unraveled.

Birds have always lived with the weight of countless dangers — hunters, poachers, and predators lurking in the shadows. They lived in constant fear of arrows, weapons, and cruel men with intentions to clip their wings, to wound them and injure them so that they would never soar freely again.

For so long, you believed you were like a bird in a cage — isolated, trapped, and held back from flying. They told you the confinement was for your protection, that it shielded you from the dangers beyond the bars, that it kept you safe. You thought they kept you tethered because they feared the world would break you, because they refused to let you go.

But now, with the truth crashing over you, you understood. 

They weren’t holding you back because you were a bird in confinement. They were drawing you back, tightening the strings not to restrain, but to use you. You were never the fragile bird. You were the arrow, pulled so tightly, so forcefully, meant to be launched. They held you back just to let you soar as a weapon, aimed at an innocent bird who once flew unburdened through the sky.

You were never the bird. You were never meant to be free. The only time you would ever feel the rush of the wind and get a taste of flying that high up in the sky was when you were launched, aimed to her heart. Suspended in the air together for one brief moment, before ultimately falling, never to fly again.

⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀previous chapter | epilogue

a/n: it's not over yet! this part is already pretty long at roughly 22k words. the epilogue is still being polished and i wanted you guys to already get to read this part already. reply if you wanna get tagged tag: @asodovlvlvpvp @snivells @jossyswift11 @my-favorite-sign-blog @therealgbaby @wosostan1675 @ohhazdamn

[martian-astro10]

Astrology observations - Part 4 (use whole signs)

🌟 Moon in 4th is one of my favourite placements. These people usually have a good career, like an emotionally fulfilling one. They won't stay in a job that doesn't make them happy. Their mom can help them choose a career or give them interview tips.

🏮Mars in 2nd house people are so lucky when it comes to earning money, it's like, they get a new money making opportunity just when they're on their last penny. They're also not afraid to get their hands dirty and are willing to do almost anything, very hard working people. They're also the ones managing all the money in their family.

🌟 Mercury in 8th house people are the ones with a "sexy brain" like the WAY their mind works, are so good at analysing arguments and coming up with the best possible solution. Good debating skills. These people have great manifestation skills, I have a list of 100 + incidents, it's honestly a little scary. Can also develop clairvoyant abilities if they work on it.

🏮I haven't met a single non religious, Sun in 9th house person in my life. Even if they're not that religious in their younger years, they will be when they get older. Always willing to help others even when they themselves are suffering, my mom has this, and.....it pisses me off so bad. The "put your own oxygen mask on first" advice is for you all. Stop helping people, be selfish, it's not your duty to make everyone else's life better. My mom doesn't listen, but maybe you all will.

🌟 Venus in 11th house is a placement that's really good from a business perspective. They're great at negotiations so that's helpful. They won't like doing a regular 9 to 5 job as it will suppress their freedom and creativity. They will open their own business pretty early on in life, in like late 20's or early 30's. Great architects and interior designers. I remember when I made the architecture and astrology post, a lot of people had this.

🏮I haven't seen anyone talk about this, but moon in 6th house people can be really good leaders, they're very helpful and kind and their ability to understand emotions makes them extremely likable. They have more of a people oriented leadership style. They focus on building strong relationship with their group members or employees. Also, why are you all always sick 😭? Prone to anxiety and stress and this leads to body pain and digestive issues. Please put your health first.

🌟 It's really funny how ALL my friends, every single one, has Venus in 1st. I would say that rather than us being pretty, we're just very likable. Even if they're introvert or shy, they have a communication style that makes other people want to talk to them. It's just an aura thing, tbh. Also, they're huge people pleasers and will do their best not to offend anyone, like even if a person is being annoying, they won't say anything. (Mars in 1st can change this)

🏮 Jupiter in 2nd house is not good for marriage but great for career and friendships. I know people with this who are still in contact with their pre school friends. Their friends will help them in their career as well. They're intelligent but they think they're not, and this makes them lose a lot of opportunities. Need to have a little bit of courage to succeed in life.

🌟 Sun in 12th house people probably had a painful childhood (more so than others), if mercury is with sun in 12th, then they write poems to express this pain. They're good writers, and can be lyricists, authors, script/play writers, etc. these people are physically weak. Might also not know who they are, as in, not aware of their own personality traits.

🏮Saturn in 12th house people lack confidence when they're young, but become more confident as they get older and learn to get out of their comfort zone. These people have better luck outside of their homeland. This is a good placement if you want to become a psychologist as it gives you the ability to properly analyse those with mental disorders. They also look aloof most of the time. This is another placement that is good in terms of writing skills, many famous authors have this (those who write sad stuff)

© martian-astro All rights reserved, 2024

[kyri45]

Not me abusing the asks to both share my love for the bioparents AU AND rant about the panels because none of my friends are in the LMK fandom and I'm suffering here so TAKE MY LOVE AND APPRECIATION ABOUT YOUR ART I guess x)

So first of all

I am a SUCKER for that kind of leaning in frames I'm going to print that and plaster it on my wall THEY ARE EVERYTHING /hj

I almost jumped of my chair when this one popped up YOU FED US GOOD its so worth the angst train incoming. Of course the panels before and after were equally as amazing but if I start going about every single panel we're still here in three days AT THE VERY LEAST LOL

Of course this one made me laugh like please their little faces

Using that to point out how much I love ALLLLLLL the silly faces you put in your comics I'm munching on them every single time they're crushy like chips or something just. Nom nom. Yummy.

Poor Nesha (Nesha? Nezha? Neja? I have no idea on how to write his name I already forgor LMAO) needs to be payed more. He tries to save MK and ends up dealing with two lovesick teenagers demons who have no concept of time/place/occasion apparently. Poor him. He gets a pat on the head for his troubles

And of course just the "NOPE I'M KEEPING HIM" mode and honestly we should have seen it coming- Red son was planning to courtnap him and didn't sleep in the past 5 days so he's not having any bullshit YOU'RE NOT TAKING HIS NOODLE BOY AWAY-

Could bet he spent so long thinking about the cournapping in the 5 past days his brain just cannot process that yeah maybe you need to let him down you're just going to drag him in more troubles- Either that or he's just going full protective mode. Both options are good anyways sooooo :)

We stan a protective boyfriend in this house.

---

And finally I'm SOOOOO hyped about whatever is coming next like I know that technically we're supposed to suffer but please I climbed up the angst train so many times now I'm just enjoying it by that point lol. It'll just make the following fluff even more worth it

Also I cannot wait to see MK's plan about the contract I'm so curious I'm dying I love you boys but I really want the plot to progress you can go back to kissing later lol

Finally, thank you for creating this AU. It's stumbling randomly upon it on my tik tok fyp that dragged me into watching Lego Monkie Kid and really THANK YOU FOR THAT. It's such an amazing show I CANNOT BELIEVE I didn't discovered it sooner so really thank for having created this comic because else I could have missed LMK and that would be just saaaad

Fun fact: since I had never interacted with LMK the first time I read your comic, I for some reason thought Macaque was a female (and I probably would have thought the same of Wukong if he wasn't called... well, Wukong because I randomly stumbled upon the myth's Wikipedia page at some point in my life XD). The shock I felt when I heard Macaque for the first time in the show because his voice was soooooo not what I expected x) I'm still laughing at myself to this day

So yeah, from the bottom of my heart, thank you, and I can't wait to see what you're going to pull next :D Wish you allllll the best <3

(I can totally wait, of course, it's just a figure of speech. Take your time, I could wait forever for the next chapter)

ahaha thank you for such a lovely comment!! Glad the scene gived "MINE" vibes as I was planning ahah.

Youu're welcome! It's an honor to serve this fandom. *bows*

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Christian Woman

König x Nun!Reader

Word count: 12.5 k Tags/warnings: 18+ pure FLUFF & SMUT & COMFORT

First time/loss of virginity, implied consent, teasing, corruption kink, fingering, cunnilingus, thighing/intercrural sex, protected p in v. Silly, sweet, kind of innocent, kind of naughty. Romance, forbidden love trope, love as a religion, happy ending. 

Part 3/3

Everytime König enters your life, you start to lie.

You lie about where you’re going and where you’ve been, you lie about who you see and what you do. People think you’ve helped some foreign man to hospital, that you were away last night to make sure he got safely into treatment. You told them he was some poor fellow who got stabbed and robbed on the street and that you called the ambulance from his phone and that the police needed to see you today for further questioning. 

You lie and lie and lie, and then slip out to see König, who’s hopefully alive and still in the same place you left him last night.

When you enter the old, half-demolished building now serving as a B&B, the same old man from last night looks up with wary eyes. He immediately relaxes back to reading his paper when he sees you’re only the harmless, grey nun from last night. 

You sneak upstairs without exchanging a word with him and go straight to König’s door. Giving it a quick knock and uttering, “It’s me,” you half expect to get shot through the wooden entrance. But there only comes a happy “Come in” from behind the door, and you notice König hasn’t even locked the damn thing. Is he expecting you, or is he simply that confident with his gunslinger skills?

Turns out he’s probably both, because you freeze right there on the doorstep when you step in.

He’s wearing nothing but boxers this time, and your eyes fly straight back to his eyes after being glued to the prominent package between his legs for far too long. And good God, the man’s got some muscles on those legs... 

“Hallo, Kätzchen,” he greets, giving you an obnoxiously flirty smile upon noticing how flustered you look.

“You… You shouldn’t be up yet,” you quickly turn to close the door. 

“I have to use the bathroom, no?”

He looks at you from across the room, so innocent and sweet and, at the same time, so mischievous that you don’t know what to do or where to look. He’s gotten rid of the hood, but there are traces of black paint around his eyes, it still clings to his brows, making him look like someone who just came home from a carnival. You want to go to him and wipe it away and tell him that he missed a spot and that he’s clumsier than you thought, but you can’t... You can only fall deeper into your awkward shyness as he raises his brows. 

He turns what appears to be the shreds of his old shirt in his hands, then dumps it into the bin, suddenly a little nervous too. There are moments when you have suspected that König might suffer from social anxiety or shyness around people, but he covers it very well. Around you, the man seems to be at ease, flirts and jokes with you often and is very straightforward with his intentions.

You wonder if he likes you so much simply because you are unattainable. 

Maybe you represent some girl next door to him, perhaps you remind him of his first love. Perhaps you happen to be something so sweet, innocent, and unreachable that he feels strong and safe in your company. Perhaps holding hands and trading a few passionate kisses feels safer than going after a real relationship… Perhaps this Will they, won’t they situation is enough excitement for him, too.

Or perhaps König has been so wounded by women that he prefers to be around a frigid – or at least very virginal – nun rather than face the dangers of approaching a real, attainable woman.

But flaunting himself like this in front of you is yet another clear sign that he, at the very least, loves to tease you to death. He looks like he’s in far better condition than yesterday, and starts to peel off the bandage like it’s just a scratch he suffered. 

“Let me help you with that,” you rush to him, silently relieved when he lets you clean the wound and change the bandage. He even lays himself down to be treated by you and smiles with his signature grin as you fuss around him.

“Not a word,” you risk a glance his way while gently cleaning the wound.

“Not a word,” he promises with a cheeky smile, and gets another erection. 

It’s even worse when he’s wearing nothing but his underwear... You can see the bulge stretching the fabric, forming a tight, thick curve right next to you as you try to focus on your task.

“Perhaps you should put some clothes on,” you offer while trying to concentrate on examining the skin for any signs of irritation.

“Eh. They’re dirty.”

“I can go and ask if they have a laundry room here,” you propose. “I could wash them for you. Do you need a new shirt?”

Ugh, what a stupid question...

“Why not,” he shrugs. “If the view is unpleasant...”

“Behave yourself now,” you say with a soft smile. “XL…?”

“At least.”

He must be getting better if he’s behaving like this... The man’s insufferable enough when he’s uninjured, but now that he’s getting pampered, he’s somehow even worse. You bite your lip as he dares to moan on the bed, too. You’ve brought him food last night, and he’s being treated carefully and touched softly, he’s getting his clothes washed for him, he’s got his own personal nun worrying about him 24/7. Of course he’s moaning.

And you’re in danger because you just love to pamper him. It feels more meaningful to treat his wounds and run on errands than do the eternal dishes at the convent. You feel like you’re saving a life here... Like someone actually needs you, depends on you. You feel so wanted, and König seems to fully agree with you.

“I could live the rest of my life like this,” he purrs on the bed as you gently put a fresh bandage in place.

“I have no doubt about that.”

“Are you really going to get me a new shirt…?” He asks with bright puppy eyes – the faked innocence is so blatant you want to throw a pillow over that face.

“If you give me some money to buy one, then yes.”

“You can have as much as you want. Buy yourself something nice while you’re at it, hmm? As a reward.”

“I don’t do this for the sake of rewards.”

“I know... But you could buy yourself anything you want. A new dress, new jeans, lingerie… Give me a little fashion show when you get back?”

König knows you’re probably the last woman on earth who’s interested in shopping sprees, let alone new jeans or sexy lingerie. Your only summer dress resides at your parent’s house as a relic from the past, a token from your life before sisterhood. But that doesn’t mean you wouldn’t want to see his face when you do a little twirl before his bed, wearing nothing but a laced bra and some matching strings… 

“Give you a fashion show?” you laugh. “When did thanking me turn into you profiting from it?”

“I’m just saying... If you need new underwear, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”

You snort and shake your head slowly. “You’re far too cheeky when you’re injured. I truly hope you get better soon.” 

“I don’t,” he crosses his arms behind his head, looking perfectly pleased with himself while lying there in nothing but his underwear. “And neither do you.”

“Excuse me? Of course I do…!”

“No, I don’t think so. You like to take care of people, I can see it. You’d make a good field medic.”

“I doubt that.”

“You remain calm under pressure,” he says. “And you take good care of me.”

“That’s only because you were silly enough to get shot.”

“...And I would do it again if it leads to this,” he grins.

“Cheeky,” you shake your head reprimandingly. “Far too cheeky.”

“You are an angel,” he says gently. “And I mean that.”

You rise to put the trash in the bin, then look back at him. “No, I’m not. I’m just some woman you bumped into in the street.”

“That’s exactly what an angel would say.”

You sigh: it’s useless with König, hopeless, like trying to wrestle with God. No matter what you say or do, he always turns it against you in the sweetest possible way. It’s like he's stripping away pieces of your armour – you fear nothing will be left before this visit is done.

“Did you eat any of the food I brought you…? You need to eat something, and drink a lot of water–” You take a look at the side table, noticing he has already eaten everything you got him last night. “Gosh. You must be getting better if you have an appetite like this...”

König only laughs on the bed. “I’m sorry, Kätzchen, but that was just a snack.”

You brought him three sandwiches, at least a dozen apples and a bag of walnuts, but they’re all gone. Of course a soldier of his size eats like a horse, and he needs all the food he can get, having gone through the wringer last night.

“I’d kill for a Schnitzel and a tall beer,” he sighs dreamily on the bed, no doubt knowing you well enough to tell that you’ll get him anything he wants if he only plays this wounded soldier role right. 

You begin to doubt if his injuries were ever that serious. It just looked bad last night because he was so tired, and there was blood everywhere... With a bleak blink, you realize most of the blood you cleaned off of him last night probably wasn’t his own.

He’s in a cheery mood now, looking at you hopefully from the bed, arms crossed behind him, legs out long, wearing nothing but those stupid black boxers and that goshdarned, sweet smile.

“Do you think you could get me one of those big Schnitzels somewhere…? You know, the really big ones.”

“Maybe,” you cross your arms over your chest, and furrow your brow when he visibly perks up on the bed a little. “I said maybe. We’ll see. And you’ll get water instead of beer.”

“Shame.”

“You don’t need alcohol right now. Plus I can’t just go and buy beer looking like this.”

He smiles. The man’s all smiles today… Probably because of all the blood loss. Or maybe because you’re the girl next door who’s going to bring him his favourite food. 

“Of course not,” he says, with hazy love in his eyes. “I am already forever in your debt, Kätzchen.”

…

It’s not a sin to take a nap together.

That’s what you tell yourself as you curl next to König after you bring him his Schnitzel, shirt, and a few bottles of sparkling water. 

“There’s plenty of room for both. Come on, I won’t bite,” he shifts on the bed and extends his hand to invite you in. 

You lay yourself down next to him and tell yourself it’s just to please a recovering man. There’s nothing sexual about it, so why not?

Still, your body is singing by the time he takes your hand in his own, wrapping both your arms around your middle like you’re an established couple about to get some sleep together.

Raindrops are slowly tapping on the window, and you tell yourself you’re just resting your eyes a bit as your lids drift closed. König is already snoring behind you, with another erection pressed against your back. You’re not intimidated by it: it only feels natural to cuddle him like this. The rain turns into a languid rap, and you know you won’t be leaving this building in a while. With the contentment of a cat who’s finally warm and safe, you fall into a deep sleep.

You stir after an hour or two, waking up to such a pleasant, safe feeling you don’t quite remember when you’ve ever felt this good. König has buried his face in your neck, somewhere in the folds of your coif, probably in an attempt to reach some skin. He pulls you closer when you try to shift, rumbling contently behind you.

“Sleep well…?”

“Mm...”

The moment is so lazy and cosy you don’t want to get up. A large, warm hand flexes against your stomach as König buries his face deeper under the veil. He reaches the skin of your neck and inhales deeply, making all the tiny hairs across your body shoot up. 

You let him kiss you there, and he does it with reverence, like he’s kissing a holy idol. It’s chaste enough but makes you go taut in his hold – in fact, you have to use all your willpower not to moan out loud.

“I think I need to go now,” you whisper, doing absolutely nothing to act on that threat.

“Mm–hm,” he agrees while keeping your body hugged tight against him. 

“König… Really, I need to get back...”

“Ja... Ok,” he mutters, hand traveling up the thick black cotton of your habit. It meets your breast and cups it without shame. You feel the hot, hard length twitching against your back, making leaving this bed less and less tantalizing.

You whine when he starts to fully paw your breast, thrusting his hips up and against your butt. The kiss turns into a love bite right after as he starts to use teeth on your neck – your back arches on instinct, a broken sigh slipping through your lips. He can't be serious... A hickey-covered neck is the last souvenir you want to bring back from this nap.

“You said you wouldn’t bite,” you whimper, but he just laughs softly. The sound is thick and breathless, cinders and smoke so close to your ear that you’re shamefully wet even without his other… advances.

The afternoon is mellow, it has stopped raining, but you wish you could stay on this spun sugar bed with him forever. You know what you want already; in your heart, you’ve made a giant decision, but the overwhelming realisation is too much to bear. 

And so you rip yourself away from his arms and flee once again. He’s the devil himself, smiling on the bed with another proud erection tenting his pants. Rushing back to the convent, adjusting your veil as you go, your mind is plagued with the image of König reaching a hand down those boxers and enjoying a long, drowsy masturbation session while you have to hurry home for Mass.

Christ… 

It only took 24 hours to make you melt in his arms like snow.

And the “naps” become a habit as you haul him food or clothes, new from the store or clean and warm from the drier. You bring him a fresh pair of boxers, too, since he only had the clothes on his back when he was shot. He’s ever so grateful for his saving angel, who he gets to cuddle “as a reward”. You don’t quite know if it's a reward for you or him.

Sometimes, he’s cleaning his gun or doing wall pushups when you arrive, indicating that he’s still recovering but getting better every day – and more restless by the minute. At some point, you’re not even napping anymore; you only lay down with him to snuggle and make out, feeling like a shy teen when you only let him touch you over your clothes. His hands explore you literally everywhere except between your legs because that’s when you gently guide his eager paws away.

You wonder if this is what drugs feel like to some people. You’re fully in the present moment, swimming in a soft bliss, calm and whole and sweet and good. Everything in the world is just as it should be.

“If you ever come to Austria, I will take you to the mountains,” König mumbles nonsense into your hair, freed one day from the confines of your veil and coif. It’s a surrender in every meaning of the word – your clothes are the last literal protection you have against his attempts to worship you.

“Perhaps we’ll stay there... Forget all this,” he chatters lazily, clearly in the same sweet bubble as you. “Ja, that sounds good… I’ll keep you there until you come to your senses.”

“That sounds like a kidnapping scenario,” you comment with a soft smile on your lips.

“Ah. My plan is ruined.” 

You crane your head to look at him. “No... Not ruined.” 

“No?”

“Just exposed.”

You figure it was only a matter of time before this snuggle turned into another make out session. This time, the shared kiss is purposeful, full of presence and slow need. The anxiety is gone, the rights and wrongs of this world tucked somewhere far away.

“We need to stop doing this,” you whisper into his mouth, brain turning into mush from the way he holds you so gently.

“Why…? It feels nice…”

You can’t argue with that, and when his hands start to travel, you do nothing to stop them. 

He slides a palm down your curves, pulls you closer by the waist, cups your butt when you don’t seem to protest. Usually, this sort of behaviour has been a little too much, you have treated it as a bridge that shouldn’t be crossed. Now, you let his hand travel down your thigh, you allow him to grab a handful of your skirt and slowly, slowly drag it up.

When you still don’t protest, his unhurried kiss turns into a delighted, hungry one. 

He finds nothing but skin underneath your dress, and starts to explore your thigh with a trembling hand. He's warm and big, both gentle and calloused, and you can’t help but think how obscene you must look with your black robes dragged up like that, a man’s hand desperately searching for the treasure between your legs while your mouths devour each other in a slow, sloppy kiss. 

His fingers slide up, up, up until they meet the fabric of your panties, then come to a halt right above the mound of your sex. In both horror and thrill, you find your thighs parting, inviting him in, heart racing in your chest as König finds your underwear not only wet but soaked through.

That’s when he groans – into your mouth, hot breaths hitting your face as he examines you through the panties like it’s business as usual that you’re so wet. You’re both ashamed and exhilarated – you haven’t even shaved. And he’s about to…

“Mh–”

You feel him probe the side of the fabric, then casually sliding your poor, soaked underwear aside. Your wet folds are exposed to cold air and warm fingers; the last of your armour, your pride and shame and vows, drift away like they were made of nothing but simple steam. 

He drags his fingers across your folds, unhurried and pleased to meet you so ready. The fact that this man could crush your windpipe or break your spine, he could grab your thighs and force them apart like sticks, have his way with you if he wanted, doesn’t make you afraid of him like it probably should. You know he would never hurt you, but the intensity, the intimacy in his glare and touch, are enough to make the air around you feel electric. 

“You’ve never been with anyone…?” 

The question is breathless and thick, causing your core to tighten.

“No…” 

Is it that obvious…?

“Hmm.”

“‘Hmm’ what…?”

“Nothing. You’re sweet.”

He doesn’t try to steal a peek at your glistening sex, all bared and slick for him. He only has eyes for you. Your rushed breaths, how they hitch in your throat when he brushes a thumb over your clit. Your lids, fluttering over defenceless eyes as you try to search for something to ground you. But there’s nothing to hold on to but him, so you anchor yourself in the dark hunger of his eyes.

“I tried to leave you alone. I truly tried, Kätzchen… But you’re so sweet it’s illegal.”

The words hit you, loaded with lust, but you’re too weak to answer him anymore. Pitch-black darkness stares back at you as the sounds of your drenched pussy fill the room. You want to touch him too, but you’re too shy, still trying to silence the buzzing beehive of your brain and come to terms with the fact that this is actually happening. 

“I should’ve come back for you… I knew I should have, right away. I was too dumb, meine Liebling…”

Starved and dreamy, he looks down at you, whole body tight as you hold on to him and take in his confession. Only, you feel like you’re the one who’s confessing here… He seems to read you like a book, giving you just enough to keep that adoring look on your face.

He slips a finger in, and you stop breathing for a second, the room seems to go darken, even when it’s high noon. Time slows down while your heart thunders in your chest, giving you a sense of urgency where there is none. Pulling out and adding another finger straight away, he ushers a mewl out of you.

Your fingers curl around his shirt, pulling and tugging it as you try to keep intact. A deep rumble echoes in his chest when he sees you so pliant, clutching him like you’re drowning. 

“I know you want this,” he says, voice so rough that you barely recognize it’s him. “Don’t hold back…”

You try to beg him for more but the words come out as a whimper without a voice, causing something dark to flash behind his eyes. That’s all the reply you get: a pleased, filthy stare of someone who’s about to wreck you up. He must like his victims like this, too: on their backs, begging for mercy before he finishes them…

Blinking in despair, you try to drive the intrusive thoughts away, but he’s already upon you. Crossing the last breath of air between you, he captures your mouth in his.

You can do nothing but take, take, take: his fingers and his mouth, greedy for the rapture that’s already blooming in the distance, rising like a tidal wave. He won’t stop kissing you even when you spread your legs further – to what end, you don’t even know, because he fucks you without effort, keeps you pressed against him in a way that says you’re his.

You squeeze your eyes shut, tasting him, your whole body going tense before you erupt with a miserable, pained moan.

You reach the peak and break, right into his mouth, around his fingers, the weight of it all almost unbearable. He groans on your tongue, kissing you while you milk his fingers, your inner walls hugging him in waves.

Nothing moves except you, the shudders and squirms gradually leaving your body while he draws circles on your clit, lazy and somewhat absent-minded, like you’re his favourite toy now.

The release brings with it a roaring wave of sadness, a deep grief, something that has been locked up inside you for months – no, years, now brought to the surface from the bottom of a stagnant sea.

He lets you go reluctantly, releasing your mouth so you can breathe more freely. Burying his face into your neck, you decide to do the same, escaping to the solace of his strength while trying to prevent tears from welling up. 

König doesn’t yet understand that your release continues as a cleansing wave of relief; he only pulls out, slowly and carefully, gently sets your panties back where they were, straightens your dress, and hugs you as if nothing ever happened. 

You start to cry in full, not even knowing why. You just know you’ve wanted this for ages. This connection, this ecstasy, this mutual presence and fulfilment, this sense of belonging to someone. 

“Scheiße… Did I do something wrong?” 

König finally realizes you’re crying, and grows taut from the middle like an iron cord. The pure concern in his voice only makes you bawl louder and grip him tighter, and the man starts to veritably panic.

“Kätzchen, I–”

“No, no,” your jaw is shaking as you try to explain. “I just… It’s…”

You’re hugging him so tight that you don’t know where you end and he begins, but as König caresses your back, swallowing as he does it, you eventually come back down to planet Earth and back to this bed. 

“Did you like it…?” He asks, still with so much worry that you could announce your love for this man right away.

“Yes… Very much.”

“Gut.”

You think about returning the favour, but selfishly, you’d want nothing more than to stay here like this, in his arms, for just a few more minutes. Or an hour... Well, if you got to decide, you’d stay here for the rest of your life.

“Come here,” he says while you’re already locked in an inseparable embrace. He doesn’t make a single move to coax you into touching him in return, and after a few seconds, your voice comes out as a frail question.

“Should I… Do you want me to–?”

“Shh.”

…

Six months without him. 

Six months, and now you couldn’t bear to be apart from him for six hours.

You’re glad you were sensible enough to shave before running to him that morning. Making up more excuses about how you’re seeing your friend because she just suffered a terrible loss and needs some spiritual and emotional support, you sneak a couple of blocks down the street to see König. If anyone suspects something, they say nothing, but you feel the lies as a grimy cloak upon your shoulders as you hurry up the stairs of the B&B.

The shadows dissipate when König catches you in his arms. You get smothered with kisses as he spins you around, making you chastise him for being so careless with the wound. 

It’s, of course, difficult to scold a man who’s kissing you so profusely… You’re starting to feel like he wants it to open again so that he never has to leave this place. To be honest, you wouldn’t mind it either if you two stayed here forever.

“You’re crazy, and silly, and I like you,” you tell him while looking down at him – a strange thing to do, even if the man has picked you up like this once before. 

“Is that so?” 

His eyes always light up when he sees you, but now, he looks like a man in love.

“Yes... I like you a lot.”

“And I like you. Do you want to see how much?” 

He gives you that slightly crooked grin that reminds you of feline predators, or fantasy creatures who are up to no good. He also moves quickly for a man of his size, and before you know it, you’re thrown on the bed like a sack of potatoes. As you laugh and try to adjust yourself on the bedding, he’s already on his knees, head quickly disappearing under your robe.

God, he’s not going to–

“What are you doing…?” 

“Giving you a kiss,” comes a muffled voice under your dress.

He’s headed straight between your legs, two days worth of coarse stubble scraping the insides of your thighs as he goes.

“But… But what about your injuries?” You try to scurry upwards on the bed, hands shooting instinctively to hold his head in place before he does something utterly shameless. 

“König–”

“Sei ruhig.” 

God – you’re not the most confident woman when it comes to these things to begin with. It’s one thing for a man to lay his fingers on you and look you in the eyes while you cum, and another thing entirely to place his mouth where you’re wet and aching. 

What if he won’t like it...?

What if you’re not beautiful enough there? 

...What if you taste odd? 

You’re shy, as any woman would be on their first time getting head. You’re infinitely grateful to yourself for shaving because there’s a delighted, surprised sound under the robe when König strips you from your underwear.

“For me…?” 

He’s smiling at your pussy, voice dampened by the thick cotton, and you thank God that he can’t see your mortified face right now.

You brace yourself for a delicate kiss, maybe a tentative lick or two. But the soft tenderness of yesterday is gone as König presses his whole face into your sex, giving it a good inhale followed by a good, sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. 

Wrenched awake from your semi-relaxed state, you jerk up on the bed as he does it again. Then come the flat-tongued, starved licks – your pussy wakes up after recovering from the initial shock, giving a full throb against his stubbled jaw. König breathes a short laugh against you, pleased with this response.

The noise of him “kissing” you is obscene and only gets worse when he drags his tongue up and down your slit. You truly hope the doors here are solid wood because you can’t stifle all the sounds that escape you. For some reason, it is vital for you not to let the old receptionist know that a humble sister of Christ is getting licked to ruin in his establishment. 

You’re stunned, and a bit appalled – was this all it took to turn your nose up to your vows? A big man with big arms and a big gun? Some guy who wants to get under your dress after a few weeks of acquaintance…?

Because that’s what this is, a few weeks’ acquaintance currently under your robes, eating you out like you’re his last meal. 

The things you’ve imagined him do to you are shameful; even now, you fantasize about König picking you up and taking you against a wall when he gets better. This man treats you right, he treats you sweet, but you want more, you need something earthly and raw, and him lapping you under your habit is precisely that. It’s ravenous and adorable at the same time, so conflicting that you don’t know who you are anymore. 

You’re going through several stages of ego death and bliss; you’re going through a crisis of faith and multiple rebirths while König is having a field day with your pussy. It should concern you that he’s so eager to wreck you like this. It should arouse suspicion that the playful aura of this man changes whenever he gets between your legs... He becomes deliciously dark somehow, dark and base and addictive, and you wind into another plane of existence with him, to someplace only reserved for you two. 

“König,” you whisper. “I’m– I’m about to cum…”

“Uh-huh. You have my permission.” 

It’s dark, again, so smooth and rich that your inner walls clench, then flood with pleasure and pain. The inevitable orgasm is thigh-shaking and soul-ripping, your moans long and pitiful now. They’re not whimpers but cries, bare and pained as he continues to bully you with his tongue, grunting silky sin into your core. 

You can feel yourself leak on his chin as you cum, violently, forgetting the whole existence of the man downstairs. He turns you into an overstimulated, limp, heady mess – your chest is heaving by the time König emerges from under your robes.

“Oh God…” 

It simply escapes from your lips when you see how wet his jaw is. There’s a pussydrunk look in his eyes as he takes a look at his good work.

All thoughts of What if he doesn’t enjoy it evaporate when you see the demanding erection between his legs, pointing at you so viciously that you feel pity for the fabric of his pants.

“Ja... I made you see God?”

“Stop it… You’re so cheeky...”

“Eh. And you’re technically still a virgin. We need to fix that, don’t you think?”

“I don’t feel like a virgin.” 

“Well… I can take the blame.” He gives you a naughty little wink. “Remember? I would go to hell for you.”

And as if you weren’t in over your head already, he starts to drag your robes up. Too limp to do anything about him unravelling you like that – not even wanting to prevent it – you continue to catch your breath as his eyes go wide.

“This is what you’ve been hiding under here all this time…?”

He tucks the thick fabric up until your breasts are exposed. You’re not wearing any bra; you stopped wearing them years ago as useless and immoral. Your nipples perk up from excitement under his stare, your panties wrenched down in a hurry, now crumpled and forgotten somewhere between your thighs – the look on his face is priceless as he takes in the view of your exposed body like you’re a Christmas present he just opened. 

“You naughty girl…” he says thickly, and while you’ve received plenty of attention these last two days, it still makes you feel odd to be adored like this. His hawk eyes fly back to you, the corner of his mouth tugging up with some new, nasty idea.

“Want to see what I got?”

Oh God…

You don’t even get to express your consent – which would be enthusiastic – before König pulls the waistband of his boxers down. 

The cock that springs free is long and thick, heavy and red-pink from the tip that’s pointing straight at you. Curving slightly to the side, it’s even bigger than you thought, somehow having been rendered harmless by his pants, making it seem hefty but never that tall.

Your friend was right about him – tall men have tall dicks… Big hands indicate a big dick, too, you remember as you watch how he wraps tall, lean fingers around himself, giving his shaft a slow half-stroke. 

“You want to practice with me?”

You quickly rip your eyes up to his – you’re the world’s lousiest nun, caught staring at a cock like that. König only seems proud that you’re so intrigued by it, his eyes watching over you with dark amusement. 

“Uh–huh,” you swallow and nod – Christ, your voice is breaking… 

And whatever he means by “practising”, you can only hope that he’s not going to put it inside. There’s not even a condom for crying out loud. 

It’s a sigh-inducing thing when he gets to it, rests the heavy head of him on your clit, then drags the fat tip down across your folds.

“F–uck…” his head falls back a bit, lids fluttering closed from the way your slickness feels against him. That’s the most sensitive spot in a man – more of your friend’s advice floods your brain as you watch how he does it again, rasping while guiding himself up and down your slit.

You’ve never seen him so serious: his brows furrow together as he explores your folds, spreading your wetness all over himself while stroking his length. Agonizingly slow, you can see his balls hang heavy and gradually pull tight as he continues to work his cock. 

You know you should touch him, return the favour at last – but it’s hard to interrupt a moment like this. You’re mesmerized to see him already tensing from the chest up, the tendons on his neck becoming visible as he grits his teeth together.

“Kätzchen…” he rasps, “Would you mind if I…”

You fear that he’ll ask for permission to slip it inside, tempted and weak-willed. And to be honest, you’re not sure if you’d have the will to deny him.

But that’s not what he has in mind, apparently, as he begins to fist himself in a slack hurry, with half-lidded eyes and a slightly open mouth. He just wants to cum like this and ease the pain that must be terrible after days of sexual tension…

And seeing you laid out before him, naked and dreamy and bare, licked stupid just moments ago isn’t helping, that’s for sure.

“No,” you whisper, “No I won’t mind…”

You brave your heart to reach out and touch him: it’s just a shy hand gliding down his chest, but it makes him groan from pleasure. A brush of fingertips across his abs, and his muscles contract, and when you slide your palm over his hipbone and coax him to come closer, he finally leans forward and on top of you.

“Kätzchen…” he groans in whispers now. “You’re so wet…”

He could slip it in from this position, search for your opening and rough it inside. It’s tempting, so alluring that you almost say please – but that would be a catastrophe, and so you only look up at him, speechless when he supports himself on his hands and starts to glide up and down, fucking himself between your thighs. 

The bulged tip caresses your clit each time he pulls back – you doubt you can cum another time like this, but he sure as hell tries his everything to get you off too. 

“You want it…” he grunts above you. “You want me to fuck you. Right...?”

“Yes… But–”

“I’ll get a condom.”

“No, wait–” 

Now it's your turn to panic. You were always taught that condoms are unacceptable, while simultaneously, you know you could never do it raw, not even with König.

This is a moral choice you've never had to face before, and your brain is no use to you now. It's riddled with chants of Put it in and Forget about the bloody plastic because even with your zero experience you know it wouldn't feel as good as skin.

"No? It's a sin or something?" 

König pants above you, both tired and needy, and you nod with pleading eyes, not knowing what else to do. 

"Ok… Ok," he adjusts to the new reality while hovering on the brink of eruption. "I'll talk you out of it later..."

You give him a small smile, and he answers it with his own, slowly, starts to move again. Just the feel of the smooth surface of his cock dragging up and down your slit is enough to bite your lip and moan. Sliding your hands over his waist and down his butt, you give him a good squeeze–

And were he inside you, the effects would have been disastrous.

He cums abruptly, with a stiff, broken groan as soon as your nails dig into his skin. Hot, heavy seed meets your folds; it’s thick, the spurts neverending as he continues to fuck himself between your thighs with little control. How you still have anything left to give, you cannot comprehend, but the sudden, messy orgasm of this indomitable man makes you cum as well. 

Everything’s hot and sticky and dreamlike, almost pornographic, your thighs drenched in cum as he ruts through the orgasm with you. You roll your hips in sync with his, arriving at the end of your own mellow, beautiful peak, wondering how on earth it can only get better every time you have sex… 

The afterwaves are magical; you basically came together, and it hasn’t even been in yet. If this is what sex is like, mind-blowing and relaxing, hot and sweet and fulfilling with the right person, then you feel both dumb and proud for saving yourself for König.

And you’re starting to realize that you might just have a boyfriend…

No – not a boyfriend.

You have a man.

…

König orders food – or goes downstairs in nothing but his shirt and boxers and makes the poor man order it – while you lie in bed, under covers, still high from all the lovemaking. The room must be smelling like a sex cave by now. 

You take a quick shower while waiting for the delivery, mentally berating yourself for being so reckless. Having a man cum all over your folds is not exactly a safe way to practice sex… You’re doing everything wrong, asking König if he has any diseases when he comes back. 

He just pulls you back into his arms with a gentle laugh and says: “What do you take me for, a jerk? Of course I’m clean, silly kitty.”

That calms your nerves a little. You’re feeling anything but virginal right now, and putting on the black, heavy robes of a nun doesn’t sit well with you. You leave them on the floor, making König a very happy man by deciding to sit on the bed completely naked. 

You reach for the comforter when there’s a knock on the door, and clutch it against your chest like a paid woman while König pays the courier – still in his black boxers and t-shirt, like he’s just a guy who happens to live here.

“What...? Eat?”

The smell of Nepalese food fills the room: the rich, mouthwatering scents in stark contrast to what you’re used to at the convent’s kitchen. Butter chickens, lamb koftas and flatbreads are laid out steaming on the bed between you, and König attacks the food like someone who hasn’t seen a meal in weeks.

It makes you smile; him being so happy with simple things such as good food and some kinky sex, a nice cuddle and a nap to top it off. He munches on the food with his mouth open because it’s so hot – the man’s secretly so greedy that you can’t help but wonder if he had enough love, food and shelter as a child.

“Do you do this often?” You ask when he rips another handful of flatbread to dip in the sauce. 

“Seduce women.”

“Seduce…?” He laughs. “Kätzchen, I couldn’t seduce a woman even if I tried.”

You’re unsure if he’s dodging the question or being humble – or worse yet, if it means you’ve been an easy conquest.

“You just did,” you point out, realizing you’re sulking when König tilts his head with curiosity. 

“Oh. I’m sorry… Did it hurt?”

You grab a pillow to throw at him, but he dodges it and laughs.

“Careful with the food…!”

And of course he isn’t. 

You decide it’s useless with him, and besides, jealousy is not a good look. But you just can’t help it... You’re so in love that it’s not even funny anymore.

To you, he’s a hero and a God in one man, he’s both Satan and the Saviour. But to König, you’re probably just a nice foreign friend... Some cute nun he met months ago, who he finally gets to grope and taste and, hopefully, soon fuck. He says he doesn’t have time for women, and yet he licks you like a professional – not like you know what a professional in this area feels like, but it’s pretty clear that König is not a virgin even if you are. 

It must be nice to live a dangerous life and bump into women on the street... Woo them off their feet and leave them yearning, then get shot and cared for by some fussy, naive nun who’s head over heels for him. Perhaps it’s his favourite pastime hobby to torture ladies with flowers and letters and some cock and then leave like a cowboy. You wonder if he has a girl in every city – girls who aren’t nuns, girls who know how to show him a good time.

“Kitten... I’m not like that,” he says, a curry-drenched piece of bread dripping sauce over his fingers. “I only hold hands with you. Now that you finally let me.”

And you don’t know what’s more decadent: eating naked on the bed after making love, or being a Catholic nun who’s about to beg a man to fuck you, with or without a condom.

He finally notices he’s about to make a mess on the sheets, and gobbles the food as quickly as he can before there’s sauce all over the bed. Licking his fingers with dark, glimmering eyes set on you, you quickly focus your attention on the food.

The bastard is flirting with you every chance he gets, even when you two are trying to eat... 

“Is this what you call holding hands?” You ask, reaching for a piece of bread he's offering you.

König looks at you a while longer, with an expression he sometimes wears when conversing about serious, deep subject, the issues of God and Heart.

“This is what I call liking someone so much it hurts.”

…

König learns your body language; he knows it like a native speaker by the end of the week. 

You, on the other hand, learn that he’s ticklish on the sides of his stomach and behind the ears. You discover that he gets hard if you caress his abs or whisper in his ear that you like him... You learn everything about what kind of handjobs he likes; you find out that he almost rips the sheets apart when you take him in your mouth.

You lie on top of him, you lie under him, you let him hold you any way he likes. He moves you around like a doll, kisses you until you’re soaked, laughs into your neck when you tell him he’s being impossible again. He loves your breasts religiously, bites and nibs and licks them until you grab his head and tell him you can’t take it anymore. He has an oral fixation for your body and has to kiss every part of you: your inner thighs, your hip bones, the quivering place just below the navel; your neck and fingers and arms, even the arch of your foot. 

You receive attention only reserved for saints, and fear that someone will notice the smell of cum on you, or the musk of a man, lingering in your hair. Your sisters could easily notice your flushed lips if they wanted to. They could see the dreamy smiles, eyes that have just seen God, but everyone is looking inward, and no one sees how you rebel against the Lord right under their nose.

You stay strong in your no condoms policy, but practice with König every day; you practice so much that his wound opens and starts to bleed.

“Oh my God…”

“Heh… It’s okay,” he says as your stare drifts down to the side of his stomach. The bandage is slowly blooming with red, and your crazy soldier would simply go on if you didn’t order him to lie down. 

You’re both naked as you start to patch him up, convinced that this is some sort of a punishment for being so reckless. König only smiles on the bed while you treat him; it’s like his master plan finally worked.

“I like it when you take care of me,” he explains while you clean up the wound. You raise your stare, and in place of a horny, able-bodied man, there’s briefly a boy, a kid who used to make himself sick as a child to get at least some attention.

“Has no one ever taken care of you…?” 

“Not really.”

He grunts when the antiseptic seeps inside the wound – you wince, sympathetic to his pain.

“Is that why you like me?” You try to chitchat and take his attention away from it, secretly nervous when fishing for details on why he would want to be with someone like you.

“There are many reasons why I like you.” 

“Such as…?”

“Your smile, for starters... I like that. And then… I really like your ass.”

“König...”

“What, I’m not allowed to?”

You purse your lips to scold him, but really, your heart hurts so much it burns. There are a million doors to this man, but he only keeps one or two open at a time, to prevent an attack of some sort. 

“I like your devotion,” he says, finally with some serious air about him. “Your kindness. You don’t hurt people.”

“...But you do,” you whisper. It’s not an accusation, only a comment. 

“I would never hurt you.”

The playfulness is gone, and while you miss it, you also like it when König gets fragile like this, stripping himself of all the shields that make him a strong, confident merc.

“Sometimes we have to fight for the things we love,” he continues, probably explaining why he endorses violence.

“Killing is a sin,” you say, more to yourself than to him. 

“Kätzchen... You can’t tell me it’s a sin to kill the ones who would try to hurt you. You can’t tell me it’s not love to hurt them back.”

You look at him, calm and adoring on the bed. He’s so sure of his choices, like an archangel set on the borders of Eden with a flaming sword in his hand... 

And the rose is starting to unfurl, the enigma finally unravelling itself. You’re the sacred Other, the opposite of him, you’re the great Mystery he’s infatuated with. You have peace and faith and hope and love: everything he lacks. 

And he’s the opposite of you. Fierce, vengeful, violent… Hopeless, suffering, without peace. Ready to dive into the world and bathe in it, be it a pool filled with love or blood.

He’s searching for the answers, too, only in different ways.

“And no one ever will.”

“No one’s trying to kill or hurt me,” you whisper, trying to stand brave under that flaming stare. But he’s stronger than you, even when recovering. He pulls you back to the bed and in his arms because that’s where you simply belong now, and caresses your cheek, as gently as you caressed his withered flower in your cell.

…

You know your days at the convent are coming to an end, but when the abbess gives you a warning after the fifth day of you skipping half of your chores, appointments and prayers, you go to see her. 

Without mentioning König or what you’ve been up to lately, you simply tell her you’ve decided to move on with your life. You say you’ve studied your soul for months now, coming to a conclusion that the life of a nun doesn’t suit you after all. 

These things happen, and people have left before; it’s nothing new under the sun that a nun or a monk wishes to return to the world. This is not a prison, you remind yourself, knowing that your departure will send some waves through the place but that eventually, people will go on with their lives.

You will probably be forgotten in a year: someone else will take your place, and you will continue your adventures someplace far away from here… Or that’s what you hope. 

But even if things didn’t work out with König, and you somehow ended up alone, it has become clear that you can’t stay here and continue this double life.

König’s offer doesn’t sound too bad: the Austrian Alps sound very enticing, actually. A simple life away from the buzz of the city is a golden opportunity for you; peace and faith can remain in your life without preventing you from participating in it. If only you knew whether he was kidding when he said that…

“Are you sure, sister? This seems like a rash decision.”

“Yes. I’m sure. I… I think I have found something,” you try to awkwardly explain. 

“Something… Or someone?”

“I just know that I can’t stay here. It’s not right.”

“On that, I agree.”

You go through the procedures, ritualistic, almost. The abbess asks whether you understand that this cannot be undone: you can’t just leave and then come back if you change your mind. The doors of the Church will always remain open to you, but your vows cannot be renewed, not in this convent. If this acquaintance of yours turns out to be a disappointment, you cannot simply come back here, don your robes, and start over.

She’s only doing her duty, and you try to listen respectfully, nodding as she lists the things that will be out of your grasp after you walk out those doors. Thinking that everything’s settled, you inform her you’ll leave today, to which she puckers her brows.

“My dear. Don’t you owe it to this convent to meditate on this for one more day? Don’t you owe it to yourself, to the Lord...? I’m sure the world can wait a few more hours.”

You sigh, bow your head, and bend to her will. 

She’s right; you can’t just leave as if all the years of joy and peace here meant nothing. You have people to say goodbye to, and you owe it to God to say your prayers, not your last, but last behind these walls. You haven’t even attended the evening mass these days; it’s like you stopped being a nun when a certain Austrian soldier asked if you wanted to take a nap with him.

You receive lots of well wishes, hugs, even tears when you tell others you’re leaving. Embarrassed that you almost got rid of your robes and sneaked out to another secret lover’s meeting without even saying farewell, you meet everyone with full presence until you find yourself crying too. 

You catch very little envy in your sisters, but there are some who look at you with jealous disdain when you tell them that no, you don’t even have an apartment yet, nor a job, but that you’ll take your new life as a gift and face it like an exciting adventure. 

Thinking about König all day long, you can’t wait for tomorrow so you can tell him the good news. You hope he understands that you can’t visit him every day, even if it has been your silent agreement that you knock on his door before noon. It’s a good thing that the poor man gets some rest: you can tickle and giggle and practice with him tomorrow to your heart’s content, it’s not like he’ll disappear in the next 24 hours.

He’s in König now; all that bliss resides with him and the moments when you two break bread together, or wash each other, tell each other silly secrets on the bed, fall asleep after a round of good sex.

Except that that’s exactly what you fear while you go about your day. 

Sorrow and excitement mix in your heart with bittersweet torment, but what haunts you most is that you no longer find God in the great hall where your sisters sing. You don’t feel His presence during the Mass. 

Sun sets behind the window, and you sigh while peeking out of your nunnery turned prison. Silence weighs upon you like a blanket, but you can’t get any sleep. 

There’s a sudden “clack” on the window, followed by rap, small pebbles or something clattering against the glass. You rise to sit on the bed, instantly thinking of König and his stupid, silly threats.

The longing is awful, it’s even worse when König was away for half a year because now you actually have something to miss. You wonder if he’s watching the same sweet skies as you, if he’s worried or hurt when you didn’t visit him today.

You wonder if the man has only shrugged his shoulders and left…

It can’t be…

There’s another clack, then another, until you jump from under the covers and go to the window, opening it without even remembering to be quiet. 

As soon as the windowpane glides open and you peek out, you meet König and his stare.

“What are you– You can’t be here...!”

“I was just about to sing,” he grins without even bothering to tone down his voice, letting the remaining gravel in his hand fall to the ground.

Bending his knees, he swiftly jumps up, pulling himself to the window sill like it’s easy parkour, probably opening that goshdarn wound again in the process. No wonder men die younger – you’d have to tie this specimen to a sturdy lamp post if you wanted him to stay put...

Throwing a pair of long legs over the sill, he makes himself at home, forcing you to take a good few steps back as he simply waltzes inside your room.

“You didn’t come to see me today,” he says like it’s some kind of an explanation for this silliness.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” you roll your eyes. “Something came up, and I had to stay here.” 

If you tell him that you’ve just renounced your vows, there’s no way you’ll get him out. He’d just say you must celebrate the good news by making love all night. 

“That’s alright,” he says amiably. “I’ll just visit you.”

Trying to argue with whispers doesn’t really help your cause. König only smiles down on you like a cheerful, jovial sun.

“But... It’s... You can’t be here…!” 

“I promise I’ll behave.”

“You and your promises… We both know how well you keep those. Go back before you get me into trouble, silly. We can see each other tomorrow.”

“But I want to see you today.” 

“Well, you’ve seen me,” you extend your hands to your sides, knowing you’ve already lost. “You can go back now.”

“I don’t think so.” 

He takes another step, forcing you to back away until you bump into your bed. Crossing the final breath between you, he pulls you into a kiss.

So much for contemplating your choices and dedicating your last night as a nun to God…

And it’s laughable how fast he rids you of your clothes these days. It’s stupid how fast you’re able to help him get undressed…  You all but tear the clothes off each other; actually, you can hear a seam rip when you both yank the shirt over his head, the new black t-shirt you just bought him a few days ago. 

Does he even know what he’s doing to you…?

Muscles rippling in the fading sunlight, he’s a god mortalized. Body built as a weapon to rip or ram his way through enemies, to you, he’s only ever been the source of joy and pleasure.

You could pray on the altar of his pecs, sing songs and chants to his lips, worship the bunching muscles of his thighs, kneel before the thing that rests thick between them. The sheer width of him is enough to make you drunk: desire pools, brims, until you feel like you can’t breathe anymore. 

You lay yourself on the bed, and he follows, like a big panther or a prowling titan. The bed sags as he sets his knee on it, it wails when crawls on top of you. Heavy cock swinging between his thighs, it seems like a cruel joke that you chose this man to be your first. 

And you didn’t expect that you’d lose your virginity this way: in your old room at the holy convent you swore yourself to a few years ago. You didn’t expect you’d lose it to a giant soldier who starts to frantically search for a condom after you whisper to him you’re done with practising.

While theoretically a sin, you’re more sullen with the prospect that you won’t be able to feel the silken hardness of him now that he rolls the plastic on. A little too enthusiastically – as if he hadn’t seen a woman in weeks, let alone cummed all over one two times yesterday. 

Still, you find heat pooling down your stomach as he approaches you, keen and eager and as hard as a man can get when he sees something that he likes.

He doesn’t need to part your legs: you do it for him, and when he sees your pussy all puffed up, leaking a thin stream down on the bed, his brows knit together, the expression reminding you of approaching thunder in summer.

His gaze is heavy like midnight when he guides it back to you – always back to you and your eyes, even if there’s a whole feast down there, prepared just for him. The backs of your thighs meet his as he slowly crawls forward, spreading your legs further apart before the battering ram. 

“Kitten...” he rumbles. “I haven’t even touched you yet.”

The springs continue to wail beneath you: it’s like the whole world is against you today, even the stupid bed making it far too likely to get caught. And if you get caught, it won’t be just by some shocked sisters screaming when they find a man inside your room… It will be by them screaming when they find him inside you.

And he doesn’t seem to even care.

“Ach so my little nun… I hope we don’t break the bed,” he smirks.

“I hope you don’t break the bed…”

“You want me to take you down there instead?” 

He nods in the direction of the floor, and you can only blink – your soldier boyfriend is offering to fuck you on the cold cement as if it’s some kind of an option.

“I’m not having my first time on a floor,” you grump.

“Heh. Thought so, princess.”

The possibility of getting caught makes him visibly excited. Hell, it makes you excited... You wonder if he’s an adrenaline junkie, leading a dangerous life and having a life-threatening job, now choosing to try his luck at fucking a nun at a cloister.

You don’t want to be a challenging conquest or a kinky story told to some fellow soldiers at a bar… You want to be a commitment; you want to mean something to him. But you can’t escape the fact that this setting is turning you on. You’re even worse than him, spreading your legs and hoping he’d touch you with that cock; just drag it down your lips and glide it in already.

His gaze is heavy, blue steel, blazing in the darkness as he looks at you so wanton on the bed, a simple crucifix on the wall as the only witness to your deeds. This must be one of the craziest things you’ve done in your life…

Replacing his hand with the head of his cock, he finally lets you have what you need. The tip of him is hot, even when covered in thin plastic, and the sight of him, large and powerful and dark, looming godlike above you, makes you think of pagan heroes and kings. To you, he’s all men in one, the sheer mass of him making your thighs tremble from want.

With a curious finger sliding down the wet, heavy seam of you, he swears when meeting you so pliant and wet. Thanks to your constant “practising”, you’re always slightly aroused, getting in the mood the instant you see him.

Contrary to your belief, having sex multiple times a day doesn’t, in fact, stifle sexual desire but adds to it… It’s like you’ve opened Pandora’s box together, only the box contained all the pleasure in the world instead.

“Are you ready, kitten…?” 

“Yes,” you breathe. “Just… We need to be quiet…”

His smile is a flash of a grin in the falling darkness. “I’ll try my best.”

The sound that leaves the back of his throat is a deprived, hoarse moan. He seems to be enjoying it more than anything while you’re trying to remember how to breathe, but when he settles fully in and stays there, you start to actually feel something… Something thick, and heady. 

Settling to your entrance, he tells you to relax, and you try your best with that; you truly do.

But nothing can prepare you for it, the fat head of him sliding in, smoothly and with a spread that leaves you gasping. The fulfilment is phenomenal – you try to remind yourself to relax your muscles as he pushes a few inches in, and then some more, and then some more. More, more, more, until you start to feel your inner walls wake up with alarm. 

Seated so deep that his balls arrive to touch your flesh, your body starts to accept him, squeeze him, hug him.

And it feels good. In a way, it’s the best feeling in the world.

He groans, slightly high-pitched and surprised; perhaps you’re tighter than he expected, or perhaps he can feel the hugging thing… 

Your cheeks are panging with heat – the whole building is silent except for the broken breaths of you two, and the lewd sounds of fucking on your chaste bed not made to take this sort of abuse. Growing only wetter and wetter, you try to keep your moans lodged inside your throat as he starts to fuck you with determination, seeing that you’re enjoying yourself. 

Pulling out the slightest bit, he chooses to head straight back, apparently not wanting to be deprived of your heat even for a second. Thrust by thrust, he pulls out more, allowing you to get used to what it feels like. The bed is absolutely horrid, creaking every time he buries himself back in. 

It’s a punishing of sorts, his cock knocking the air out of you every now and then. The slap of his balls against you is sinful – your room has seen nothing like this, nothing but some shy solo action every few months. Now you’re spread wide open for a good pounding, his hips reaching a pace that makes the rest of the world slowly dissolve. 

Realizing he might be a bit too enthusiastic with a woman who’s a first-timer, he swallows and slows down his pace, causing you to almost scream with frustration. 

“Am I being too rough…?” He asks, panting like he just ran ten miles. Plugged deep inside you, you can feel his cock throbbing and pulling near the point of cumming – perhaps another reason why he stopped.

“No… No.” 

You sound puny under him, fingers flexing over his skin, the great ribs flaring in reply under your touch.

“You want more?” 

“Mm. Needy little thing...” 

“...Yes.”

Huffing in the hollow of your neck, he breaks into a smile and licks his lips. 

You barely catch the hint of degrading tone in his voice, a mocking, something about the way you’re so wet and needy for him stroking his ego just the right way.

Knowing that he’s here for reasons other than just sex doesn’t change the fact that you enjoy getting sweaty with him, spiralling into a state of total surrender. Ten times more powerful than the most blissful experiences with your God, you want to come here for worship again and again, to have his body entangled with yours. 

Ecstatic that you just came, König no longer holds back; he doesn’t even let you gather the remaining pieces of your sanity before he starts to chase his own peak. Taking what he needs from you, the trusts turn into short, quick pumps, some foul German curse hissed between his teeth just before he cums. 

When the tide swells, it’s a bit different: not just external stimuli and shallow friction, but areas never explored now getting nudged as well. The delicious drag of his length in and out of you, the thickness making you feel overstuffed, does make the pleasure well like never before.

You’re not accustomed to this, being forced so dumb by a cock. Cheekily anticipating the swelling wave, it breaks upon you almost without warning. There’s nowhere to escape, and the climax is blinding, the euphoria leaving you without air for a moment. 

You can feel every thick pulse of his cock, and fear for the condom that looked far too tight to manage to take both him and his load. You whimper and cling to him as he ruts through his heavy bliss, entire body throbbing with heat from the joy of spilling inside you. 

When done, he sinks half his weight on you, thoroughly spent, and you feel fulfilled, some deep-seated joy taking hold of everything that once was hollow. Curiously, all shame is absent. The man on top of you is sweaty and catching his breath, but you’re only glad to swim in the messy, sweaty newness of you two. 

“You ok...?”

You want his weight on you… You want him to stay inside you until he grows soft, you need him to be as drowsy and complete as you.

Hugging him tight in the middle of your post-coital bliss, you feel König rumble into your neck.

“Better than ever,” you breathe a smile. “How about you…?”

“...In heaven,” he replies, and you have to stifle a giggle pushing up your throat. He has never sounded so spent. So tired, happy and fragile…

“I just want to be with you like this,” he continues to mutter on your skin. “Can I be with you like this…?”

“Yes.”

He slowly rises to lean on his elbows, propping himself on them one by one. Weary, pleased eyes slowly focus on you, and the back of his palm comes to caress you, knuckles gently brushing your temple, thumb swiping away an escapee hair. 

“Kitten… I’m serious. I don’t want to live without you.”

“We have a tradition in Austria where men sometimes steal the bride.”

“How convenient,” you smile.

“I know you belong to someone else, but I’m going to steal you.”

Your eyes are full of stars, you just know they are. If this is another one of his jokes, you can’t bring yourself to care, not as long as he looks at you like that, eyes so set and determined.

“I’m sure He won’t mind,” you mirror his gesture, raising a hand to caress his cheek.

“I’ll fight Him if he does.” 

“...You can’t fight God,” you laugh.

“Why not?”

You don’t even know what to say to that. You open your mouth, then close it, shaking your head on the pillow. In a way, you can imagine him taking up arms against God if it came to that. If there was someone foolish enough – or brave enough – to rise against God, that someone would be him.

“König… I renounced my vows today.”

“...You did?”

The happiness, the pure joy in his eyes, is heartbreaking. At that moment, you know that all his silly jokes, follies, and babbles about taking you to the mountains and whisking you away have been real. They have been true, honest wishes... There is no lie in him, no jest, no fakeness. Just pure, simple joy from hearing that you finally chose him, too.

“I tried to leave in the morning but the abbess made me stay for one more day.”

“Ah... So you’re being held a prisoner here?”

“Kind of.”

The familiar twinkle in his eyes tells you that he already has another plan coming right up. That grin means mischief; but with you, only the sweetest kind.

“Well. You’re in luck, then, because I’m here to save you.”

“You just said you’re going to steal me,” you laugh.

“Call it what you want, kitten,” he winks. “But I’m not leaving without you.”

…

The sun has set, but the evening is bright, the sky filled with stars visible even through city lights. It’s dark in the courtyard as you sneak out of the window with König, trying not to giggle as you escape. You call it a prison break; he calls it Einsatz Rapunzel. Whatever it is, it feels like freedom.

The old man doesn’t even care to look surprised when he sees you clothed in jeans and a simple shirt this time, smiling as you rush upstairs, hand in hand with König.

He whispers promises on your skin, saying that you won’t stay here for long; his contacts will get you to the heart of Europe, tomorrow if you want. You can’t wait to sleep with him tonight: simply sleep with him, finally, curl up together in safety, do the most basic thing all lovers do. You can’t wait to wake up to a fresh dawn together, lovely, curious, and new. 

Night covers you with beauty and grace, his pulse against your palm both a promise and a blessing. You take new vows: promising to yourself to live each day fully and bravely, and never again shut your heart.

The only thing left of you on your old bed is your black and white robe, and on it, a crucifix and a rose, and a note that says:

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love… But the greatest of these is love.

[feistyvirghoe]

•*¨*•.¸¸☆*･ﾟ𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲’𝐥𝐥 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮? ﾟ･*☆¸¸.•*¨*•

pick a pile u feel most called to, the one u cannot look away from, the one that is pulsing, go with your gut, always trust yourself, and if u feel called to more that’s cool baby boo! there more for u!

these are general and for a vast amount of ppl, don’t get ur undies all twisted up bc it’s not resonating, it’s normal and it’s fine, this just wasn’t for u! <3

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 1 - i see your future partner will see you as someone who has been through a hell of a lot, whatever u have overcome just makes them look at you as like this strong individual, someone who has suffered a lot probably at the hands of others too. they see you as an extremely fair individual, you don’t back down from a fight or challenge, whatever comes your way you still persevere and continue to move forward, it’s like u have been through so much strife but you’re still positive about life, the circumstances, like you try not to let that get to you, you’re an honest person, they see u as someone who’s fire is still there after all the weird conflicts you’ve gone through, you don’t let it break you down, still standing strong, but even though u may be very assertive and someone who seeks the truth, like a whistleblower, but u look so happy and vibrant on the outside like u kind of deceive people with that soft, warm, joyful exterior but if anyone tries you, they get like instant karma or just karma in general, like you’re not the one to fucking mess with, there is this passion within you that needs to be shown off, like letting yourself be seen.

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 2 - your future person sees you as a bit naive but not in a bad way, there’s this innocence to you guys, you’re very okay like the lovebirds but then there’s sadness and a lot of fucking grief, maybe it’s coming from losing friends, family, lovers, pets, could be anything sentimental and close to your heart but they see u as so gifted and just as someone who doesn’t really break the rules, they see you as someone who may need some compassion in their life, like more support, i mean you’re extremely supported by the divine but u probably don’t feel that way in the 3D, like here physically IRL, do u not have many people that you can count on? like you have to do it all alone which you don’t and i’m sure your person will see this as well. there is so much good out there waiting for you, they’d want to see you and help u move on from whatever has happened that affected you so heavily, almost like u feel like you have no one on your side, but they’re there babe, it’s okay and completely harmless to obey and let yourself change for the better, for your highest good! they don’t want you holding onto this pain, i was very jokey about it earlier so maybe u guys can be the ones to brush it off but no, sitting with what happened and reflecting and not looking backwards at a past that you can’t change may help some. you’re worth so much more than whoever or whatever fucked u over, you deserve to be happy and feel happy and full of positive LOVING ENERGY! i feel like tapping back into spirit and becoming closer with the divine will help..easing the discomfort emotionally, you’re always loved and protected!

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 3- okay my p3s, it took me a minute to feel out your energy, idk i was just getting really frustrated and now im sweaty and i just took a shower, so im feeling like your future lover may see you as a “hothead” no, you just have a temper, it seems like you like things your way, like you’re not the one to let shit slide, you stand up for yourself, something about you is just very fast moving, like go go go go (cue the cringey ass carnival song 💀) okay so yeah you have a temper and can be quick to jump the gun and just fucking move people out of your way. i see they see you as someone who can’t stand when other people are just slow moving, like you need to be stimulated and engaged with whatever you’re doing, like you will keep doing something over and over until you reach your desired outcome. i like yall, u guys don’t play around, and that’s what it is, your fucking feisty ass, my pile that seems to embrace change whether you like it or not, it’s like it is what it is…i hope your person is strong as fuck and not just physically i mean mentally, you’re in your own fucking world, it’s like they may even have to ground you and bring u back down to earth to help u stabilize yourself, let yourself take a break from the fucking overachieving i don’t wanna say it like that but if you keep working yourself hard to the point of no return you’re gonna crash and i feel like u don’t mind bringing others in the mix, it’s like if i go down we all going down lmfao…just breathe, relax, take a minute to go outside and embrace your surroundings even if it’s shitty, there is always something around us that is so small but it puts a smile on your beautiful face. you don’t always have to keep your guards up and yes people may wanna try to come after you but just know you don’t have to do much to fend these weirdos off, they could never really reach ya level. your future lover sees all of this, you stand up for yourself and u show out too, like don’t fucking mess w me is y’all’s vibe, HAHAHAHA FUCK AROUND AND U GON DEF FIND OUT 💀

(this pile took such a turn lmao, it felt so chaotic ahhh, i hope u guys find some time to seriously just CHILL..no worrying about nothing just woosah baby, idk like whatever calms you down do it! rfn haha 😆ugh i wanted to write more but i promised myself to make the piles shorter, but pls lmk if u guys like longer more detailed ones or straight to the point, i mean either way it’s up to me but i wanna hear from you guys 🩵😚)

𝐩𝐢𝐥𝐞 4- you guys are my leaders, even if you don’t see it this is all about ur future lover and how they see you, you seem to have a very strong head on your shoulders, you guys are so fucking courageous and extremely fast moving again similar to pile 3 but not quite, they’re like the energizer bunnies (i’m sorry to pile 3 that’s not a jab lmao) but you guys are more strategic, the other pile is more so spontaneous, okay if u feel called to it just go for it and head to that pile but you guys my lil babies hahaha, u may not like that, the lil cutesy names, but i mean underneath it all is just a sweet ball of sunshine, you guys like control and your future lover will automatically see it, it’s like you guys may not like to see things out of place, no matter what it is, like you need a schedule, you can’t just free ball it, you guys are like methodical and you’re not giving up without a fight, you’ve come so far and for some random ass weirdo to just come on in and try and undermine you is a very wrong chess move, you’re ten steps ahead bitch, i feel like you know more than you let on, like yes you may be cool calm and collected but oh do your words have people either checking themself or they’re in a corner crying from what you said, maybe u can be a little blunt with the way you interact with others, but i don’t think it’s coming from such a bad place, that’s just in your nature, you know how to tame your inner demons, the beast within, u can look at your own mess and take accountability, very honest straightforward, cut throat ass person, and your person is digging that shit, they like your dominance and how assertive you are, like the fucking boss, mommy/daddy/authoritative energy!

THANK U FOR FUCKING BEING HERE U AMAZING ASS QUEEN/KING/GOD/GODDESS !!!!

i appreciate you for stopping by and letting me read for you, i have been gone for some time but im back bitch and im here to fucking stay! idk if anyone else has been feeling this weird ass energy of people like not wanting you to succeed or see you doing well, i’ve been feeling that and a mix of my own pent up shit i need to deal with but i hope you liked this reading and if you don’t that’s literally fine babe, just don’t be an asshole about it, if it doesn’t resonate what??? LET IT GOOOOOO ! i have to say that!

these are extremely general readings and they’re meant for entertainment purposes, please don’t take things so seriously and also realize my readings are for people above 18!

[colourstreakgryffin]

Oh my gosh! HELLOO!

Anywho~

I had a request for Alastor with a reader who’s contract with Valentino just ended and Angel brings them to the hotel to help them get on their feet, they have lots of trauma from what the endured, maybe they stay close to Alastor because he’s very much a gentleman and never treats them like Val did?

Thank you!!

Oooh! I like this one a lot! We got a second Angel but unlike Angel, we’re probably better and less snarky and bitchy. Sorry, Angel. Anyway! Idk if it’s meant to be romantic or not so I am gonna guess—

Alastor- Redemption Path

Alastor can’t help but feel sorry and feel pity for you. You’re just like Angel but you aren’t as bad as Angel. A ex-pornstar that has finally been free from the pimp Overlord, Valentino and your dear friend Angel Dust is so relieved that you’re safe from him, now, he’ll take even more measures to make sure you’ll do better than him

Bringing you to the Hazbin Hotel, Angel Dust introduced you to the Hotel Staff. Hoping they could help get you back into Hell more stably. Out of Charlie feeling immense sorry for your sexual abuse trauma, Vaggie considering to sign you up for counselling and Angel Dust barking at Husk to be nicer to you. Alastor is the one who is the most interested in you

Alastor is the one who escorted you around the Hotel. He is the only one who treated you so perfectly, he is a true sweet gentleman and he is doing much for you that it’s unbelievable. He doesn’t want anything from you? How is that possible

Throughout the days since you first checked in as a client, Alastor notices the way you follow him around and he finds it adorable. You’re such a lost lonely little puppy needing somewhere to feel safer and he doesn’t mind playing that little safety spot for you. It’s quite amusing

“Oh. My dear, is something bugging you?” Alastor asked curiously as he finally turns around to face the cute eager shorter sinner that has been clinging onto him and following him around ever since he was polite and ‘respectful’ to them. Treating them like a person and not like an object. Unlike the first and only Overlord they knew at the time, he doesn’t even notice their curvy attractive body or make creepy sexual remarks in the slightest

He just compliments the cozy colourful classy outfits they’d wear, calling each and every one ‘adorable’. He finds you adorable as a whole and he is entertained that you’re so enamoured by his kindness, that you act like a baby fawn following his mother around

The sinner that has been following him around all day, takes a few seconds to even blink. You’re shyer around Alastor since he actually gives you a voice and a say-so, something you’re unfamiliar with. Having that… you never did back with Valentino and it’s almost overwhelming that such a friendly treatment is addictive to have, the way he handles you with delicacy. He isn’t usually a man to sympathise with an awful situation but for some reason, he sympathised with you in his own special little way. You’re thankful that he is even more polite and caring than anybody you’ve ever met, even Angel!

“Oh. My, you’re shivering. Are you cold?” You didn’t actually answer Alastor with words but instead with actions, approaching him and shyly reaching out for a handhold but you didn’t actually touch him, reminding yourself of his no touching clause. You hoped he’d let you slide this once. You don’t really have anybody to talk to after you were jolted awake from night terrors over what that awful squeaking sex-obsessed freak of a moth did to you throughout your contract with him

Angel is there as a friend but he’s busy still suffering under Valentino’s maniac rule right now, you don’t want to bother any of the staff nor Charlie about your problems whilst they are busy. Sooooo

You figured your emotional support, the one who has been very patient and understanding with you. He hasn’t let you down once just of yet

Alastor willingly takes your hand when he recognises your reach out attempt and brings you up to his side in a lone but strong tug. Not minding the sweater you wore being your only coverage for your bottom half. Just a cute off-the-shoulder sweater and thigh highs. Whilst your style mirrored Angel’s in an odd way, you didn’t gross the Radio Demon out like the current top pornstar did. You’re more innocent, more sophisticated

You’re nothing like Angel, despite escaping from the same ugly world as that spider sinner is still trapped in. You’re a recovering traumatised, overexploited pornstar in need of help to gain a new life within Hell and Alastor actually likes the idea of playing that knight in shining armour you clearly view him as. He can’t tell why but he likes it

Leading you down the empty, slightly dark hallway with one arm around your body to keep you close, pressing your face against the side edge of his broad chest and the other slightly stylishly twirling his signature staff-like microphone cane, the Radio Host plans to take care of you in other ways then just hand you some blankets and set you out to your own Hotel room. He’d prefer to personally put you to sleep and the process would be begin with a picture show, a talk and a darker warmer room

You didn’t know why but your face was beet red, your heart was pounding in your chest and your eyes sparkled as you tilted your slightly fuzzy head up to look at Alastor. In, what felt like a blink, his crimson red eyes flashed a sense of genuine affection before returning to the usual half-emotionless bloody haze as the radio effect on his rather mighty voice kicks in with the overlap of both sincerely caring and classic semi-mocking Alastor style caring

It doesn’t help that you swear you can feel his heartbeat grow faster…

Is Alastor feeling the same you are?!

“Come now, darling. You’re clearly having bad sleeping patterns. How about me and you watch that picture show you’ve been holding off? Yes. Yes, I know. I don’t like your technology but I wouldn’t be a help provider if I didn’t provide you help, now would I?”

[higuchisora]

Seeing as they clearly didn't know what the hell to do with Jinx/the political repercussions of her bombing the council in season 2, I'd like to explore the possibilities of how Zaun would've reacted to this that would've made way more sense than what we saw.

1. Jinx becomes an extremely controversial figure.

Few are neutral to her. This would be largely because, outside of knowing she blew up the council, no one actually knows WHY. What were her motives? Were they politically charged? Was she trying to start a war? What exactly was her goal? It was never really stated that she was infamous prior to this, but I recall in season 1 act 2 that when Vi went looking for her, people knew OF Jinx, and that she worked for Silco, but weren't really aware of any further details. So those that are aware of her connection to Silco- who objectively did make many of their lives worse with Shimmer- wouldn't be happy. They'd be scared of what will come next.

Those who don't know/don't care might fill in the blanks with their own guesses, maybe that she's some kind of activist- which would split them further into the subgroups of "Oh fuck the enforcers are gonna kill us and it's her fault" and "Finally, a war!" The second of which I'd argue would actually be a very small group. I could imagine the Jinxers being seen by the rest of Zaun as crazy radicals who don't know what they're getting themselves into/are gonna drag the rest of Zaun into danger. I think it would cause a LOT of infighting. Like a civil war inside another civil war.

How Jinx would handle this would be.... interesting. Especially if the Jinxers start making moves on their own. She never really shows much interest in activism- she works for Silco because he's her new dad, and while she doesn't seem to DISAGREE with his opinions, it doesn't seem she's all that invested in actually working to make it happen beyond just wanting to help her dad. His death seemed to take her interest with it.

Now, they could either lean into this, and make people question her motives/actions because of her clear disinterest, maybe increasing some of the controversy around her (no follow through on her action, letting Zaunites suffer the consequences, etc.), or they could make her actually take a genuine personal interest in it. But that, I think, would take a bigger arc that might be more work for arguably less payoff when considering you'd probably have to change a great deal of her character to do it, especially when you could probably achieve similar plot points/outcomes even without her intentionally becoming a political figurehead.

2. Zaun becomes fractured politically/other "symbols" of Zaun

This can be in tandem with idea 1, actually, but can still be it's own idea. Basically, after the fall of the council, and Silco's death, Zaunites are terrified. They've been run so far by Vander, Silco, and then some vague council-like oligarchy of Chem-Barons, who could be interpreted as functioning like very large gangs. The Chem-Barons have always been around, but with Silco's sudden death (and no one who was primed/expecting to replace him), this leaves a massive power vacuum that the Chem-Barons and smaller gangs are scrambling to come out on top of.

The fear of the unknown and the extreme instability would lead to people desperately throwing their lot in with whoever they think would be a better/less dangerous leader, and by extension, political symbol. Season 2 shows a bunch of new people joining the Firelights. In that case, I can imagine that before long, several new potential leaders surface, even if they didn't expect it. Namely, Ekko, Jinx, and Sevika.

Ekko because as I said, people were apparently coming to his base in droves. They don't tell us Jack shit about the Firelights besides the fact that A) Ekko leads them B) they don't fuck with Silco OR Piltover C) Piltover thinks they're terrorists and D) they look rad as fuck. That being said, considering Ekko's Everything, I think we can all gather a general picture of what the Firelights are about. Plus his cool tree would be a great symbol (@srslylini for the idea) of growth, healing, etc.

Sevika, because those that knew her as Silco's second might be hoping for some kind of stability with her. Even if they didn't like Silco, it's better the enemy you know and all that jazz. They'd feel safer with someone who at least seems to know what they're doing, even if Sevika herself has no interest in becoming a leader. I think some would just naturally gravitate towards who they see as "second in line". This could also be in connection to Jinx, as she could possibly been seen as someone who could "rein" Jinx in (again, most people don't actually KNOW Jinx, they just know OF her and that she worked for Silco and was volatile. Think how Finn referred to her as Silco's "attack dog").

Speaking of Jinx, she'd probably be treated similarly to idea 1. Extremely polarizing. Her followers would be seen as crazy, like she is. They'd be seen as warmongers and/or people who have no idea what they're getting themselves into. They'd basically be seen as the stereotypical "young rebels". The average Zaunite would see the average Jinxer as a young, angry, maybe idealistic radical who doesn't understand the cost of war. I'd argue that, again, they'd probably be the smallest and most controversial group just because most people don't necessarily WANT a war, even if they're willing to fight for it. And the suddenness of the bombing would've scared even some of the rebels who DO want war, because they weren't prepared. It wasn't a PLANNED attack, so both Zaun AND Piltover are basically caught with their pants down, which would also bring some ire from the other Zaunites.

There's another option for a faction I'd like to explore, also thanks to srslylini (thank you icon), but it takes a bit of setting up.

In a hypothetical situation in which Vi did NOT become an enforcer, I think it would happen like this: Vi hangs around in Piltover at first out of guilt/feeling like she has nowhere else to go. She's still not on board with being an enforcer, but she attends the memorial out of a sense of obligation. Her and Caitlyn have a falling out over Caitlyn calling Zaunites "animals", and here is where she storms off and goes back to Zaun, with the final words to Caitlyn that "You Pilties are all the fucking same" (or something to that effect). She's still feeling lost, and so maybe this is where she stumbles around, having maybe a similar pitfighting arc (just not as distraught, more like she's broke and angry and has to pay rent somehow so she might as well get paid to punch someone's face in). Because she's not in a massive spiral, there's unfortunately no emo arc (sad), but the bright side of this is that she's recognizable. I don't think she's FAMOUS, per say, but Babette and Ekko recognized her right off the bat in season 1 (yes you can say Ekko was really close to her, but Babette? C'mon), and considering she was older than Powder when she went off to prison, I don't think it's a stretch to assume her face was a little better-known than her sister's (especially considering she was already going on jobs, and in act 1 she gets into a fight with Deckard who I'm pretty sure knew her name, but not Powder's).

This is to say, I think a lot of the "old heads" knew who she was, especially those who liked Vander. It helps that she tattooed her name on her face LMAO. So I'd imagine she'd show up in the ring, no hair dye no makeup, and eventually after consistently knocking her opponents around and winning every time, she'd become a bit locally famous again- to the point that those same "old heads" who remember her make the connection and come looking. Maybe rumors start swirling, especially once they learn she was gone because she'd been in prison- not unheard of, and probably the first conclusion they drew when they realized she wasn't dead.

So eventually Vander's old followers/younger people who idolized him from their childhood start seeking her out. Sensationalizing her. Asking her what she's planning on doing. Is she taking back the Lanes? Will she get those Chem-Barons under control? What about Jinx? Could she hunt her down, rein her in? Hell, maybe even put her to use? Will you give us our relative safety, our security back?

And Vi, who just wanted to knock some heads around and maybe take a nap in her apartment and cry, is suddenly faced with being "Vander 2.0" and Jinx is the new "Silco 2.0" and all the weight of expectations and legacy and history and literal war and politics are being shoved in her face. She, like Jinx, is now faced with becoming a figurehead when she never wanted to be, which could lead into option 3:

3. A joint approach to Zaun

This would primarily be driven by Sevika even if she wasn't one of the possible leaders, because SOMEONE has to be the responsible adult here and it's certainly not any of these traumatized losers (affectionate). She'd be the glue to keep it all together, the reluctant team mom who WILL make this work because she WILL have Zaun even if she has to die to get it.

This could work with either Jinx and Vi, or Jinx, Vi, and Ekko (I genuinely can't imagine season 2 act 1 Ekko willingly teaming up with season 2 act 1 Jinx AND Sevika without some kind of buffer). Basically, once the other "leader candidates"/political symbols have been established, Sevika would round them up with the intention to use their influence to unite Zaun against Piltover. This would take a LOT of arguing, but ultimately I think she'd be able to get them to shut up and hear her out for a moment. Regardless of how different their beliefs are about what the "ideal Zaun" looks like, they can all agree that Piltover isn't in any of those pictures. She could convince them to set aside their own squabbling for the time being, for the greater good: aka, the independence of Zaun.

At the very least, I think she'd be able to get them to agree that Piltover coming down and hurting Zaunites in revenge shouldn't be ignored, and that they're currently a bigger threat than their fellow Zaunite. So eventually they'd reach some kind of truce: behave like a united front against Piltover, push them out of Zaun, stabilize Zaun, and then worry about tearing each other apart later. And because all of these characters- ALL of them- have shown (prior to season 2) anti-Piltover sentiments, they'd at least be able to agree that enforcers shouldn't be allowed to beat down on their people (especially in this version where Vi has better, more consistent writing lmao).

Of course, Rome wasn't built in a day, so maybe they don't reach a total agreement immediately- maybe they just agree to a ceasefire at first, but still refuse to work together. But once Caitlyn becomes a dictator? Once enforcers start gassing the streets, rounding people up, implementing martial law?

That's when the gloves would come off.

I'd imagine this could also be part of how Vi and Jinx slowly start to repair their relationship. They've got bigger fish to fry, but also, this time their enemy is connected to their own personal conflict with each other. Jinx might ask, "what happened to your enforcer girl? What happened to being a Piltie lapdog?" And Vi would essentially, in perhaps more emotionally constipated words, explain that it wasn't really about Caitlyn, it was about being needed. It was about trying to find Jinx, about trying to stop Silco, about trying to "fix" things, only realize that she couldn't. It was about trying to make things better, but that she realized the person she was trying to do that with didn't actually care. That all she wanted was to make sense of the destruction of her old life, and find meaning in a new one. And I think Jinx, too, in her own emotional constipation, would resonate with that, would understand that. It wouldn't fix things between them, but I think it'd be a start.

It could also help their relationship with Ekko. Since Vi isn't an enforcer this time, and season 1 (the One True Season) showed their sibling relationship, I think her and Ekko's bonding would be more like "reconnecting with an old friend", whereas Jinx and Ekko would have a lot of work to do, too. There'd probably be a bit of a cold war between them for a while, once Ekko agrees to help, because he knows actually talking to her would piss him off. But eventually, through Sevika's manhandling of these three, and being forced to make nice with reluctant-figurehead-Jinx, they'd connect again.

Perhaps part of a plan is for them to develop new technology for Zaun. Whether that's weapons against Piltover (unlikely on Ekko's part I think), or just safety gear/ safer city infrastructure ideas for the betterment of their people, I think eventually they'd figure themselves out, too. He'd see the Powder in her, the part he saw on that bridge, and maybe it would give him the ability to try and understand Jinx. And Jinx would realize that maybe these people in her life DO love her, DO care about her, more than just for what she used to be but for who she is now. And somewhere along the way, they'd be friends again (or they can date IDK or care man I just want them to stop trying to kill each other).

Whatever happens next is so wide in possibility that I can't possibly cover it here so this is where it ends, lol.

[gregrulzok]

I got kinda poet-ish about it in my last post but I need to be more direct:

Genuinely what the FUCK is wrong with Daniel Molloy.

Like okay, yes, 100+ year old broody vampires with incredibly tragic backstories will be hot and a little bit insane. That's literally a given.

Daniel Molloy is a 30-somethings man with a budding alcohol problem and verging on a midlife crisis, and his response to a world-shattering revelation that vampires are real is to go SO fucking off the rails that his 500 year old millionaire stalker that blends rats for fun, reads 70 books a day at mach speed, and once SEWED A YOUNG GIRL'S HEAD TO AN OLDER WOMAN'S BODY AFTER MURDERING THEM has to be like "Daniel you're being weird again".

Like this man.

- Has no backstory as far as I know? Certainly no tragic tale I've ever heard. He'd literally some dude off the street.

- Is one of the only characters to ever be with Armand and NOT fetishize the fact that he looks 17 (hats off)

- BUT he DOES fetishize him being a literal fucking corpse, direct quote "I like kissing. And snuggling with dead things, yes, hold me." so maybe we should place him on some kind of list anyway

- Is literally ADDICTED to vampire blood, and the reason for it is that it gives him fucked up visions of suffering and torment and he's into that

- (I'm cutting him a lot of slack for also being not dissimilarly addicted to having his blood drunk, because this is Tunglr and I think we can all relate to that, but let the record state for real world purposes that's still fucking weird)

- Yells at and berates his deranged vampire stalker WELL before the time they become Lovers, in the MIDDLE of said deranged vampire stalker having some kind of angry meltdown. ("I WANT YOU TO DIAL PARIS, I WANT TO SEE IF YOU CAN REALLY TALK TO PARIS" [...] "WHAT ARE YOU, AN IMMORTAL IDIOT?" This is during a time period where, for all he knows, the deranged vampire stalker is fully comfortable with and even vaguely planning on killing him.

- Hears OVER AND OVER AGAIN how becoming a vampire is nothing but a terrible irreversible eternal curse, sees how every vampire he meets (all... Two of them, to be fair), longs for humanity, and STILL thinks "Nah. I'm built DIFFERENT."

- Like. Listen. He's aware of the pain and suffering he'd bring to others. He fully knows about it because he drinks Armand's blood. And he WANTS TO DO THAT, like that would NOT be an issue for him.

- At best that's a sacrifice he's willing to make so he gets to cuddle his dead boyfriend for all eternity. At worst, and more probably, that's a fun perk for him.

Like Daniel what is your fucking PROBLEM, man.

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC Gala, But It's Not Wayne, It's Masters

This just lives rent-free in my brain, so I'm here to share. And maybe get help.

Batfam probably don't only go to galas and events in Gotham, right. Bryce Wayne is a rich bitch and WE has contracts and ties around the world, so Wayne Wards have to attend events out of state (and out of country) from time to time. This time, they are invited by Vladimir Masters, the owner of DalvCo.

Coincidentally, Vladimir Masters is rumored to have some hidden Kryptonite stash. So Bruce decides to go, taking some of his kids with him, because it is also rumored that Masters has two wards of his own, and, first, Bruce has to bring his kids for disguise, second, he needs them for some team building, bonding and whatnot, and last, he really needs to check if Masters' children are living in a safe environment. Cue all his family making fun of him for wanting to adopt more kids.

What makes the jokes even worse is that both Master's kids have black hair and blue eyes.

When they arrive, they are greeted with a sight of a full-sized gothic castle. It looks really out of place in Illinois, but the vampire vibes are there, definitely. And said vibes only become stronger when they meet Vladimir and his kids - all three of them are giving the Batfam goosebumps, and not in a good way. Now, the things capable of giving Bats goosebumps are very, very limited. And never good.

Vladimir - he insists they call him Vlad - is a fairly tall, gray-haired man with piercing eyes. His smile is nice and polite, but it kind of reminds Tim of Ra's, which is, well, not a good thing. But overall, he is... Okay. They can definitely take him down if they need to (they really can't, but they don't know it).

The kids, though. They are twins, probably fifteen or sixteen, a boy and a girl, and they look like they came straight from a horror movie. Calm and even, mirroring each other's gestures and finishing each other's sentences, no facial expressions, and they don't seem to be blinking. Cass has a hard time getting anything from the way they hold themselves - they seem to only show any kind of emotion when they are addressed. Damian can't shake off a feeling of being watched, even though the twins barely look at him. Tim, raised in a family of socialites, notices how both of them have really nice manners, the kind you learn when someone teaches you etiquette specifically.

Bruce is unnerved by the sight. Are the kids mind controlled? Are they okay? This is definitely not how kids should act at fifteen at a gala, holy shit. Granted, he's seen not that many kids at galas, but the point still stands.

Now, at this point, I have a few ways this can go. First one, the suffering orphans way, Danny and Dani are actually controlled by Vlad, who wanted perfect heirs. Second, the little shits way, Danny made a deal with Vlad to attend a gala and Dani joined him, so now they are having fun with acting as eerie as possible since Vlad strictly forbidden them from shenanigans. This can be either redeemed Vlad or not. Third, the demonic twins' way, where Vlad is definitely redeemed and is taking care of the Fenton kids, raising them however he sees fit. Jazz is also under his care, but she is mostly an adult now, and they have more of a 'caretaker on paper and legally not old enough to live on her own' relationship than a 'parent and daughter' one.

Do the Waynes befriend them? Do Bats get caught while investigating? Do Danny and Dani cause trouble at the gala? Maybe they get to prove to Bruce that they are, indeed, perfectly happy about living with Vlad?

Inspired by this art