#please call a priest i need an exorcism

[kodaibara]

So I kinda got possessed today in between naps, like legit possessed, and apparently drew this. I woke up without remembering doing all that, but boom there he was, the most terrifying Pat Butcher I’ve ever seen.

I kinda had to guess what context possessed me wanted to go with this drawing so i just went with the imo most terrifying Pat scene in canon, the dip it scene…

Please blame my friends for making me post this, i swear this tumblr was supposed to be for my nice artwork, and not the one i drew possessed by some weird art demons.

And also happy belated death day Pat, I swear I would have drawn you something nicer

[hoeforalbedo]

ᗪEᗩᒪ ᗯITᕼ TᕼE ᗪEᐯIᒪ ✟

Chapter 1

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WARNING: PLEASE READ

Sensitive topics including vague details of SA. Reader will display many mental health such as depression, PTSD, and anxiety. I will also discuss after effects of said trauma such as hyper sexuality, over-sexualizing oneself, over trusting, and many more. (Many cope in different ways however I am more familiar with this side of the spectrum as I have taken this information from my experience.) Suicidal topics. Horror. Manipulation. Blasphemy. Religious horror and possibly hints of religious trauma. Demons. Paganism. Witchcraft (I try to depict witchcraft as accurate as I can however if I make it too accurate, it will seem boring so I did add magical abilities. I write it based off of how I practice it). Possession. Death. Murder. Exorcism. Sex. Ritualistic sex. Female reader. A bit of crack (reader doesn’t take things seriously. Humor is the way of coping 😭)

If any of these themes trigger you, please do not read. You have already been warned.

Writing criticism is appreciated since I want to get better in writing.

SUMMARY: Everything is normal. I mean it. I swear.

———————— ♱ ————————

You went home feeling at ease and as you laid on your bed, you realized that maybe you should have invested in therapy. Hongjoong isn’t really qualified to be a therapist but he works just fine, plus he’s free.

Hongjoong is an interesting man. A hypocrite. A man so corrupted feels so tantalizing, like the fruit Eve was warned not to eat. The devil, these thoughts, they whisper at you, feeding you delusions of this man. You feel. . . Loved. Is that the right word? Love is a strong word and you just met the man but you just felt a strong connection. Maybe it’s because he gave you that ounce of validation you craved.

“You shouldn’t be going out on your own. Especially not with these serial killings going around,” Hongjoong joined you at the pew. You stare at the huge crucifix above the altar with contempt. You may have really come back at the wrong time. The small quiet town has been experiencing some serial killings. Many say it’s the devil. Others blame you, although it ultimately leads to the devil. Seriously, why can’t they just admit that some fucked up person did it?

You shrug nonchalantly. “We both know, nobody gives a shit about the murders. Plus, I didn’t want to be in that house. All I hear is their constant yapping of God.” You fight back the urge to roll your eyes. “It’s always God this and God that. God can suck my dick.”

“Do you resent God?” He asks curiously.

“Yes. Very much,” You scoff. “Isn’t it obvious? You know, after the talk we had at the confessional booth, I did something bad. I prayed to the devil,” You smile.

The man raised a brow, almost leaning towards you. “Did you now?” He asks with amusement laced in his voice.

“I did. I prayed that he would kill that motherfucker.”

“And?” He asks almost excitedly. Why is he feeling this way? He should be scolding you.

“I was watching the news and found out that he died. He was murdered. They also found that he was a predator. I think his other victims may feel some sort of relief that he’s dead,” You chuckle, as if the man’s death was the bare minimum.

“Are you happy?”

“Yes.” A comfortable silence falls between you for a moment before you speak up. “Although there’s gotta be a catch right? Maybe he wants my soul? Is my soul even that yummy?” Your brows furrow and your lips fall into a pout as you think deeply.

“Now why would you think that?” He chuckles.

“I’ve sinned,” You shrug.

“Sweetheart, I doubt those sins are enough. Hell is full of evil, and I promise they’ve done more than steal a pack of bubblegum,” He jokes.

You look at him offended, “Hey I’ve done stuff! And you’re a weird priest. Shouldn’t you be like ‘demon bad’ instead of indulging me?”

“Well you’re weird for admitting to a priest, but if you ever need an exorcist, you can always call me,” He smirks.

“Y’know, you look much cooler in this outfit,” she hums, admiring how handsome he looks in the typical black outfits priests wear with the white in the middle of his collar. “The robe thing you wore on Sunday made you look short.”

Hongjoong gives a playful glare at you. “Give me five Hail Marys and ten Our Fathers.”

———————————————————————

“Where did you go? Do you not realize how dangerous it is right now? Especially for a woman? Your father’s been throwing a fit, asking where you are.” Your mother drags you in and closes the door.

Despite it being modern times, your mother, along with other women in the town, played into this 1950s wife role. She wears a typical red plaid dress and despite being in the house all day, her hair is done along with wearing heavy makeup. Your mother prided in having red lipstick.

You recalled how comforting she was, humming as she cooked the meals. She never let you go to school without breakfast, saying how “It’s the most important meal of the day.” You’d force yourself to finish the whole plate then went to school despite your parent’s lack of dreams for you.

“I’m a grown adult and I have a scalpel. I’ll be fine,” You groan, tired of always hearing her lectures. “And I was at the church,” You add in hopes that it would shut her up. Satisfied, your mother let go of your arm and you went up the stairs to your room.

The room remained the same after all those years. There’s a desk in the corner and multiple bookshelves, from textbooks and just books of God. You weren’t allowed typical books such as Harry Potter as it apparently promoted witchcraft.

Your queen size bed is against the wall with your nightstand beside it. Across from your bed hangs a silver cross that somehow never rusted along those years. You also have drawers against the other side of the wall. It looks exactly the same way you left it.

You lay down on your bed. You’re tired. Tired of everything. The true punishment is being dragged back into this town. You hate it. It’s the literal epitome of hell. This holy town is hell. It’s embarrassing failing a suicide attempt. You had a letter and everything. It’s just pure humiliation when you’re brought back to the very town you tried to escape.

Thud!

You didn’t realize when you had fallen asleep but the loud sound immediately had you bolting up your bed. The sun has gone down. “Oh fuck!” You hiss, tapping your phone to check the time only to be blinded by it. Dark mode isn’t meant to blind people. It’s 2 am.

You reached over your bedside and turned the lamp on, being blinded once more, as your eyes strain to adjust to the light. When has the room gotten so cold? When your feet touch the floor, you almost didn’t want to stand up as it just felt too icy compared to your warm skin. Every step felt like pricks of ice.

It was the crucifix. The nail that had kept it up had rusted and weakened. You bend over to pick it up then walk back to your bed. The crucifix is placed on the nightstand. Now you can’t sleep. Isn’t this what happens at the start of every horror movie?

———————————————————————

“How unfortunate! Absolutely vile,” Your mother exclaims as she reads the newspaper. Who reads the newspaper these days? Your father answers with a grunt.

“Remember Betty? The sweet lady who taught Bible study back in the days? She had been murdered last night! That poor woman,” Your mother sighs, shaking her head then folding the newspaper.

“This is why you have to keep praying or else the devil will take you next,” Your mother lectures.

“That will be the day,” You groan, despising the sound of her squealing voice.

“That’s not how you talk in my house,” Your father yells.

“Then I’ll gladly see myself out,” You smile and get up from your seat, not wanting to finish your breakfast anymore. You hurriedly put your shoes on then ran out the door without lending an ear to the berating screams of your parents.

A walk. You needed a walk. You allowed your feet to take you wherever it wanted and suddenly you found yourself in the woods, where you used to run to, when you were younger. In the middle of the forest, there would be a huge tree, bigger than the rest. The forest seems to be circling it.

“What is a young lady like you doing here?” A woman asks, making your heart skip a beat. Her hair is gray and her skin is wrinkled. Her body is hunched over but despite all that, you can make out her beauty peeking through her age.

“Where did you come from?” You freak out.

“You know, this tree held special meaning,” She absolutely ignores your question.

“That’s nice,” You mumble, not really wanting to hear a history lesson.

“This was where the witches of the town were burnt. This area harbors a lot of pain and turmoil, begging to be avenged,” She smiles wistfully.

“Witches?” You perk up. That’s new. You know about witches after leaving the town. The topic always piqued your interest.

“Oh yes. Oakheart used to be a coven of witches, that is until the Evangelist came and forced us to turn to their God. Others who refused were burned here. My family were ones who played along with the Evangelist but we never forgot,” The woman tells her story.

“Interesting, so like we worshiped Satan?” You asked, not meaning to sound ignorant at all.

The woman chuckles but doesn’t take offense to your words. “The town worshiped more than just Satan. Lilith, Lucifer, The Princes of Hell, Hekate, Athena, Thor, Loki, and so many more deities. It was a coven where people worshiped who they wanted and nobody judged,” The lady explains. “It seems that a deity may have taken interest in you. You have to help them!”

“Huh?” You’re taken aback.

“Help them! Help them! You have to help them!” The woman starts screaming all of a sudden, grabbing onto your arms.

“What is wrong with you!” You wince, pulling away and running off, her screams becoming distant. You kept running and running, occasionally stumbling on rocks. “Stupid rocks,” you curse under your breath.

You didn’t know where you were going. It was all the same looking trees. When you started questioning your location, you eventually found a clearing.

“Thank god!” You let out a sigh of relief. Before you is the church. You never knew the forest was behind the church, only because the forest is so big.

“Y/N,” A voice suddenly makes you jump. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

You clutch your chest to catch your breath. You look up and it’s none other than Pastor Hongjoong. “Yeah I’m fine. I’m fine,” You breathe heavily.

“What were you doing in there?” He looks at the vast forest.

“It’s my favorite place,” You manage to catch your breath.

“You need water?” He offers.

“Yes. Please.”

You follow Hongjoong into the church, going through hallways that the usual parishioners never go into. You could definitely get lost, the place looking like a maze. The walls are the same off-white with occasional paintings of either Mary or Jesus. The overall lighting is dingy and just shabby. There are a few lightbulbs that would blink on and off. It’s almost as if the church doesn’t have enough funding for a proper electrician. With the amount of donation they receive, they should.

“Y/N,” Hongjoong calls.

“Yes?” You turn 90 degrees to come face to face with the statue of Holy Mary.

“Over here,” He calls from the room right next to you.

“Coming,” You answer but you can’t seem to stop looking at the statue. Something feels off, and as you look closely, you realize why. It’s crying. You wipe the tears or water or whatever liquid it was on the statue's face before following Hongjoong in.

“Welcome to my office,” He smiles, handing you a water bottle and telling you to sit on the small couch. “I promise you it’s not usually this messy.”

You look around. His desk is clean however the counter next to his fridge is littered with empty bottles of water, food wrappings, containers, and many more. There are also crumbs of food in front of the fridge. Besides that, it’s pretty clean.

“Oh what’s with that box over there?” You ask curiously, looking at the box with crucifixes, statues, and holy books.

“Well you know how I just started here. I was going to put that around and decorate the place but I never had the chance. You’d never expect that priest could get so busy,” He chuckles. “So? How have you been?” He asks, leaning against his desk.

You shrug, “Same old. I really can’t handle my parents and I really hate this town. Maybe once I get myself sorted out, I’m going back to New York and invest in some therapy.”

“That would be good, but hey I don’t mind being your unofficial therapist,” He gives a lopsided smile.

“I need some professional help too, Pastor Hongjoong,” You chuckle.

“Hongjoong. Please just call me Hongjoong.”

“Got it.”

“So, from what I heard you are a neurosurgeon. A good one?” He asks.

“A very good one. I have very skilled hands,” You smirk, realizing how sexual it came out to be. Curse you and your dirty mind. You’re almost like a teenager, except you gained free access to the internet in your 20s.

“Oh really?” He raised a brow and crossed his arms in amusement.

“Yup. Many would personally ask for me since my hands work amazingly,” You play along. “But seriously I love my job a lot. I want to go back.” You sigh, feeling a sense of sadness. Your parents never really care how successful you are. You have a nice high rise apartment, your name is known, and yet not a single ounce of ‘I’m proud of you.’ “Anyways, what about you? What are you doing here in Oakheart? You could have gone anywhere else so why here- And be honest! I spilled my whole trauma to you!”

Hongjoong laughs, “Okay, okay. I was an exorcist. Well an exorcist in training. Not anymore!” He sighs, sitting next to you.

“What happened?”

“We had to exorcize a demon from a child. The poor child. He was a victim of child trafficking. Of course the Vatican had to determine if it was just mental health problems, but you can’t really blame mental health when the kid is literally flying. Well he was just too weak and well he died during the exorcism,” He rubs his face with his hands.

You put a hand on his back, offering him some sympathy.

“Well in a way I think the demon gave him the justice he deserved. The demon gave him the strength to, uh, to have the power to kill the people responsible for the crime ring. And I believe he never wanted to be saved. When the demon wasn’t speaking, he would beg to die, to give him the permission to commit suicide. I felt his pain. It was very painful,” His voice broke.

You rub circles on his back.

“So yeah, I was traumatized,” He chuckles. “Maybe I should also invest in therapy, too. The Vatican doesn’t really offer those. I know that demons are meant to be all bad but it angers me that the demon did what God couldn’t. Isn’t that weird? A priest questioning God?”

“Want me to be honest?” You ask in which you earn a nod. “That is so fucking weird.”

Hongjoong chuckles and shakes his head. “It’s kinda too late to change careers. I’m already a fucking priest, excuse my language. You need a degree for that. You need a degree to talk about God,” He laughs. “But I agree. This town sucks. I don’t blame you for wanting to leave.”

“Well now I feel guilty leaving you here,” You huff.

“You got space for me?” He jokes.

“Oh honey, I got plenty, and money ain’t a problem either,” You smirk.

“Oh, we’re skipping to pet names now, huh?” He teases.

“Oh I didn’t mean-“ Your cheeks flush pink.

“I'm just messing with you. It’s cute.”

“Omg stop flirting!” You whine.

“Sorry, baby,” He chuckles.

“I'm leaving,” You stand up.

“Oh, I’m sorry. . .” He looks at you guiltily.

“No no, you’re all good. I'm just playing with you. I just get flustered easily. You know, being raised like a holy child of Jesus and all.” You trail off, admiring his perfectly sculpted face.

Hongjoong stands up and takes heavy steps towards you until he’s towering over you. “Well aren’t you a bad girl, playing with a priest like that,” His voice low and seducing.

“I tend to play dangerously. It’s more thrilling that way,” She shrugs.

“You know, Jesus was quite the ladies man,” He hums, lips curling into a devious smirk.

“Where are you getting at?”

“It means,” He tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear then lifts your chin with his hand. “Even holy men can’t take their eyes off of pretty women, and I’m no exception. May I?” He asks your permission to kiss like a gentleman.

“Yes,” Your stomach flutters as your lips press against another. You kissed with need and desperation, pressing against him. You’ve kissed before. You’ve kissed many, but this kiss tastes sweet and satisfying, perhaps because of how wrong and sinful it is.

Your breathing is ragged as you part from him, yet it seems like depriving him of your kiss would kill him. He captures your lips once more, like a hungry predator, and as he does so, he steps back until he feels his heel backing into the sofa. He sits down, his lips staying on yours like a magnet, and you eagerly climb onto his lap. Your hands ran up his solid chest slowly before wrapping your arms around his neck.

Hongjoong’s burning from the sweltering heat, although unsure if it’s from the kiss or from the sin he’s about to commit. He now understands how Eve was so easy to convince.

“So pretty,” He mumbles as left warm kisses against your jaw and down your neck.

“Joong,” You whisper, tilting your head back. He hums and bit down the side of your neck, not too hard but just enough to leave a mark.

“You taste so good,” He practically moans, indulging in the taste of sin. You reek of sin and it’s all the more sweeter and fulfilling. Hongjoong’s drunk off of it as he’s grinding his hard cock up against your clothed pussy. He’s a desperate man. “You’re so good to me, Y/N,” He whines.

“Oh God, Joong!” You moan profanities.

“He’s not here, darling,” He chuckles. “Can I have you? Please, I need you.”

You nod, “Please Joong.”

He shifts you both so that you’re laying below him. “You look so pretty below me,” He says, admiring how vulnerable and hot you look underneath him. “Can I?” He asks, tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“Yes,” You answer. You wanted it. You want it this time.

You arch your back to help him pull your shirt over your head.

“Cute,” He chuckles, looking at your cute pink bra.

“Don’t judge me,” You huff.

“Not at all,” He smiles as he fumbles with the hooks of your bra to reveal your perfect tits. “Fuck,” He groans, feeling his cock constrict from his boxers. He kisses down your sternum as he squeezes your breasts. His fingers brush against your budding nipples.

“Hongjoong,” You hiss, needing to feel his touch.

He clicks his tongue and frowns in disapprovement. “Don’t rush a starving man.”

You complain, “And don’t tease me- fuck!” Your back arches up as his lips wrap around your bud. He is quick to shut you up with a harsh suck. “Hongjoong,” You gasp, tugging on his hair. Your eyes flutter close as you revel in the way his tongue circles your nipple.

It feels so good when suddenly it doesn't. You try to push away that foreboding feeling, images flashing through your mind. Why is it that whenever you start feeling so good, your mind seems to be punishing you. You open your eyes in hopes you don’t vividly see the scene in your head but right over Hongjoong’s shoulder is a cross nailed to the wall. That’s when it hits you that you’re about to fuck a man of God.

Honjoong notices how stiff you got so suddenly and looks up at you with worry. “Hey are you okay?” He asks, immediately getting off of you.

“Yeah, uh, it’s just, sorry,” You wince as you notice how you’re half naked. You immediately sat up, grabbed your bra, and put it on. “Sorry it’s just I suddenly remembered-“

“Don’t be sorry. It’s not your fault,” He says, taking your shirt and putting it over your head. “If you’re uncomfortable with it, I’m not gonna force you.

“It’s just, I do want it. But that stupid man,” you kick the couch in frustration.

“No, I get it. Maybe it’s still too soon and you’re not ready for anything yet.”

“Thank you Hongjoong. Thanks for understanding,” You smile softly.

“No need to thank me. It’s the bare minimum.”

“I typically don’t try to fuck priests,” You crack a joke.

“Well I don’t typically try to fuck parishioners either,” He chuckles. “I get we just met but you’re a really sweet woman and I was hoping maybe I can get to know you more. Perhaps a date?”

“I would say yes Hongjoong but I don’t plan on staying in this town,” You say apologetically. “I might go insane here. Sorry, I just don’t want to get your hopes up,” You force a smile.

“I get it. This town is hell but at least indulge me?” He asks. “Just a date, nothing else.”

You sigh in defeat, falling into temptation so quickly. You do want this date. “Fine. Just one date.”

“Got it. I’ll make it worthwhile,” He smiles.

“Stop being so cute. It’s tempting me to go on more,” You joke.

He rolls his eyes, “I don’t know what you mean.”

You chuckle as you fiddle your fingers. “So uh, I think I should go home. It’s gonna get dark soon and I don’t want to be on the murder list.”

“Ah yes, do you need anything before you go?” He asks.

“No, I'm good.”

“Actually let me drive you home. It's dangerous walking alone and for my sake, I’d rather see with my own eyes that you get home safe.”

You wanted to refuse but he’s right. The murderer hasn’t been caught and there wouldn’t be a date at all if you were to be dead. “Fine.”

“Oh- and,” He shuffles through a box that’s placed in the corner of his office. He takes out a black shawl and wraps it around your neck to act as a scarf. “As much as I want you to show off my marks, I don’t think you’d want anyone to see that.”

“Oh my god you’re actually so sweet. Take me home already or I might cry. Wait a damn second, you can drive?!”

[girliism]

i miss nun in training reader and priest in training art :(

i just know patrick would be the little devil in their ears playing with the both of them trying to get them mainly you to just give in.

patrick got caught smoking on school grounds again so they made him be in charge of the confessionals. he hates confessional work. it’s just a bunch of people coming in to whine about drinking alcohol or falling asleep during mass. but you came in today riddled with guilt.

you haven’t stopped thinking about the day art cornered you in the hall. you haven’t stopped thinking about how easily he talked about wanting to defile you. the dark look of lust in his eyes as he stared into yours. you ran away from him before you could hear anymore. calling him perverted and how you’d report him to the sisters. you wouldn’t actually and he knew that. you dreamt of his heavy body against you that night in the same way he described. so disgusted with yourself you forced your friends to shun you for the week and started fasting to cleanse your soul praying multiple times a day.

“forgive me father for i have sinned.” patrick straightens up in his seat at the sound of your girly voice suddenly interested. “speak child. confess to me.”

you feel sick in the stomach at the things you are about to confess.

“um, i fear something has possessed me.” patrick hums. “possessed you in what way child?” patrick encourages you to spill what’s be waving heavy on your soul. “i’ve been having impure thoughts about a boy. and these thoughts they make me feel things like my body heats up and…and” you couldn’t say more. tears well up in your eyes it’s all starting to feel to real.

patrick rolls his eyes wishing you’d just spit it out already but he’s supposed to be playing the no judgement role so he lets you take your time. “take your time, tell me what these thoughts are and where they make you feel things.” patrick taking advantage of the trust you placed in him.

you take a deep breath ready to spill everything. “i think about him doing things to my body, touching places. recently i’ve starting to even think about touching places on his body too. these thoughts they tempt me in my dreams and when i wake up and my underwear is wet. i don’t just dream about them though. these thoughts find me during the day. i’ll space out during lessons and my….down area aches and i have to excuse myself to the rest room. i want it to stop father i really do. i’ve ordered my friends to stop speaking to me i’ve stopped eating i pray whenever i can i read the lords word before i sleep and after i wake but i fear it’s not enough. please father help me.” you were full on crying now.

god this girl needs my help bad. that or an exorcism. patrick clears his throat. “i see well this is quite the dilemma. but i can help you.” snapping your head towards the window in the booth sniffling. “you can? you can help me how?”

“the next time you have these thoughts don’t be so quick to push them away let yourself give into them.” you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “but how can i do that without breaking my vow?” “well the next time you have one of your dreams try and relive that burning ache between your thighs and touch yourself.” your eyes widen at the suggestion.

you knew what masturbastion was and how that was just as much a sin as real sex. “but that’s goes against what the lord says.” patrick laughs shaking his head “oh child, the phoenix can not raise if there are no ashes. sometimes breaking the rules helps us follow them better.” you take in what he says. it kind of started to make sense. “ok father, i’ll try that. thank you.” you exit the booth the ending your confession feeling surprising lighter.

“no, thank you my child.” patrick’s got a evil grin on face. can’t wait to tell art about this.

[haveihitanerve]

Ok okay, marvel, let me help you out here-

Call up Anthony Mackie, Sebastian Stan, and Tom Holland

Then film Bucky and Sam walking down a street in queens, arguing about Bucky’s singular couch. And Sam is like “it is the most hideous thing i've ever seen Buck. No seriously. You need to throw it out. Or even better, burn it. We need like a priest to come in and bless the place. Or exorcize it. Let man its ugly.” and bucky’s just like ‘its not that bad!” and sam gives him a look like “yes it fucking is. Also, we need to go to ikea and get you furniture because your apartment is so depressing and empty even the people in the Great Depression would cry if they saw it.” And bucky opens his mouth to respond when he runs into Peter Parker, and Peter goes, “Oh my bad.” and quickly hurries past because he knows them but they don't know him, but Bucky’s mind has been so messed with, so he stares after him and is like “I know that kid.” And sam is on high alert because if Bucky knows someone?? But not entirely sure how??? Thats hydra. So hes like, lets follow him. And then the movie is Peter Parker trying to escape Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson while a threat looms and Spiderman helps Captain America and the Winter Solider defeat it. Just.. just give me that. Im not asking for much. Please. 

[thechapelofio]

A concept

You're a priest called to my home to exorcise me. I'm tied to a chair as you recite the rites of exorcism. I interrupt with the typical demon stuff; at first, pretending not to be possessed, crying please just let me go, I don't understand what's going on here! But you don't fall for it. You brandish your crucifix towards me, flicking me with holy water and it burns.

You command me to your attention in Latin and you have all of it, all of my attention.

I change tactics. I giggle and throw my head back. 'I know you want me,' I say, 'I know you want this body. It's plain to read on you. Vows of celibacy will do that to you. You can swathe yourself in vestments all you like, but the cloth of God cannot disguise the body of man, the body of sin...'

A particularly pointed invocation causes me pain but after wincing and hissing it fades into a moan.

'You can hurt me all you like, Father, it feels all the better.'

I start to rock my body on the chair, trying to grind down on the flat seat, a futile almost humiliating endeavor. It hurts you to see it.

'I know you want me, but you must know that I want you too, that this vessel wants you. It is overflowing with desire unrealized.'

More rocking, the chair starting to rock with me, my breath coming in hot and fast and sharp. You stutter over your words, unable to focus on them. You fumble with your sprinkler, holy water splashing us both and causing me to cry out in pain and pleasure.

When the chair tips dangerously backwards, just as it's about to fall beyond where it cannot be righted again, you reach out to stop it, to save me...

And then I have you

The smell of sweat is heady in the air, our breath is hot on each other's faces. The slip in your faith, the chink in your armor is all I need for the bindings holding me to the chair to come undone.

I pounce

I pin you to the floor beneath me and there is a moment of pause where you are unsure what my next move is going to be- clearly I am stronger than I look, I could easily choose to dig my nails into your throat and rip it out

But instead my hands go to your vestments. They slip beneath the outer layers to the belt underneath, undoing it with purpose. You want to look away, but my gaze holds you fast. I can feel the evidence of your sin underneath the cloth. I stroke it with my hands and let my body roll upon yours like Mary taken with the Holy Spirit, my eyes rolling back into my head.

I catch a glimpse of you biting your hand to muffle your sounds and I grin wickedly. There will be none of that. I want to hear of your ecstasy as much as I want to partake of your body. I take your hand in mine and pull it from your mouth, the bite marks evident upon your flesh. I lavish those marks with some of my own, my own teeth and tongue, before pulling your hand down my body to my chest and placing it upon my breast. I can feel your hesitance in the way your hand trembles, but I can feel your desire jumping between my legs.

I press my body down upon yours to feel your need more firmly, my other hand sneaking back underneath the layers so I can feel it directly. It's hot and heavy with blood and I can feel your heart beat when I squeeze it just a little too tight.

I peel back your layers, laying you bare before me. This time you try to look away and I pull your gaze back with a firm grip on the chin. I reveal myself to you and align our organs, but do not let them touch. I place your hands on my hips and I wait.

The room is still and heavy with the desire, with the weight of the choice you have to make.

I delicately touch your face, running one finger beneath your chin and when you look up from your predicament into my eyes you see not me, but the innocence, the vessel, and your resolve is shattered.

You plunge into me and it is then that I have you fully under my control, when you are fully enveloped inside of me, swallowed by me. Your hips stutter and shake as you try to control your body, as you try to control mine. Your fingernails dig futiley into my hips. My pelvis glides smoothly as you slip further and further from the light of God and into my shadow.

"You are mine, priest"

[gothgirlmahi]

Hellfire

Pairing: Priest!Steve Rogers x Succubus!Reader

Word Count : 2K

Warnings: this is sacrilegious as fuck lmao, unprotected sex, non con, dub con, male masturbation, attempted exorcism

"Your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, goes about seeking whom he may devour." 1 St. Peter 5:8

------------

Steve Rogers was a good man.

He’d spent his life dedicated to helping others and to spreading the Word of God. His needs and desires would always come second to those goals. His community loved him. Father Rogers was the attractive young priest that was getting plenty of wayward women back into the pews. While they were certainly having sordid thoughts about him, that was never a feeling he could return.

Until now.

Steve Rogers was a good man. So why was he having the most impure of thoughts about you?

He could remember the first time he laid eyes on you. There you were, in an outfit entirely inappropriate for mass with an open Bible in hand. Rather than looking at the pages, your eyes were fixed on him. A salacious grin took your face, your tongue sticking out just the slightest bit giving him a glimpse at that pink little appendage. That image stuck with him.

He couldn’t explain what had gotten a hold of him, but far after mass had ended, he couldn’t stop thinking about your mouth. Those pretty lips and that luscious tongue. Like a parasite that had embedded itself in his mind.

Lust was a normal human feeling. That much he could acknowledge and excuse. He couldn’t excuse acting on it. But that didn’t stop him from pulling out his hard and weeping cock in the silence of the night, and jacking off to the thought of your mouth. The things you could do with it. Imagining sliding his cock between your soft lips had him shaking and convulsing as he came all over his sheets.

It was shameful and something he hadn’t done in years. It couldn’t happen again. He prayed for forgiveness and went to sleep with you on his mind.

A week later he saw you in mass again. In another revealing outfit. Sultry and dilated eyes gazing up at him like you wanted to tear him apart. The second time Steve saw you in mass, he realized something. You didn’t come forward to receive Holy Communion. From that, he could at least discern it was unlikely that you were Catholic. Maybe you were new? Attempting to join?

He had to get you out of his mind. This wasn’t right. It wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t moral.

But you were there, the image of you calling to something deep inside of him, something he thought he’d lost the first time he put on that clerical collar. Steve had never faltered in his faith. But you were presenting a problem he wasn’t sure he could solve.

He went through the service and the rest of his day on autopilot. A cloying thought in his brain about the way your breasts looked in that skin tight fabric. He wanted to see what was underneath.

That night, he returned to his room wearier than ever. Determined not to make the mistake he did last week. And the night after that. And the night after that.

You were making him crazy.

He turned around to close his door and felt an immediate change in the air. Something that sent a chill up his spine and had goosebumps rising on his skin.

When he turned back around, he saw you sitting on his bed. Legs crossed and leaning forward with a distraught expression on your face. His heart was pounding, nearly jumping out of his chest at the sight of you.

Steve’s room was small, small enough that he could see every corner from his position at the door and you had most definitely not been in there when he entered.

“Something,” you started, looking up at him with terrified eyes, “something is inside me. I need help. I need you to get this thing out of me.”

“What are you doing here? How did you get in here?”

“This isn’t who I am. I’m so—please. Please help me, Father. You have to get it out.” Your voice was begging, tears lined your reddened eyes.

“Wh-what do you mean something is inside you?”

Your helpless expression dropped suddenly and you raised your lips in a smile.

“Well, I think it’s more about what I want inside me.”

Steve stepped back in alarm, clutching at the cross necklace draped around his neck.

“Demon.”

He spoke and the word hung uneasily in the air. You leaned forward, delighted interest taking your expression.

“Is that an accusation, Father?”

“Why are you here?”

“You said I’m a demon. Figure it out.”

“In the Name of Jesus Christ, our God and Lord, strengthened by the intercession of the Immaculate Virgin Mary, Mother of God, of Blessed Michael the Archangel,” as Steve prayed, you rolled your eyes like he was wasting your time, “of the Blessed Apostles Peter and Paul and all the Saints and powerful in the holy authority of our ministry, we confidently undertake to repulse the attacks and deceits of the devil.”

You made a face at him.

“Are you done?”

“We drive you from us, whoever you may be, unclean spirits, all satanic powers, all infernal invaders, all wicked legions, assemblies and sects.”

“I’m assuming you’re not done.”

“Begone, Satan, inventor and master of all deceit, enemy of man's salvation—“

“Steve!” you yelled at him, jumping up from your bed and walking towards him. Just as you got within two feet of him, he splashed you with water from a vial in his pocket. The water sizzled against your skin, leaving angry red marks behind before it evaporated.

“Wow. I guess I’m just too hot.”

Your ripped his clerical collar out and threw it down before taking him by the neck and slamming him against the wall. His attempts to push you away were futile, you were much stronger than him.

The close proximity had his head spinning and blood rushing to his cock. The effect you had on him was not any sort of normal lust. You were clearly some nonhuman entity sent to destroy him.

Steve managed to slip down and crawl to the door. By the time he was upright and reaching for the knob, he heard the click of the lock turning. He pulled and the knob gave resistance, letting him know he was locked in with you.

He wasn’t sure what to do next. He wasn’t trained for this. He wasn’t sure anyone could really prepare for this. Your closeness made his mind dizzy and slow thinking while he tried to quickly brainstorm solutions. Nothing was coming to mind.

You dragged him close to you by his collar and he tried to push away again, calling out in hopes someone would hear him. Maybe if someone could just hear him—

You rolled your eyes.

“Stevie, they can’t hear you. It’s just us in here. I made sure of that.”

You pulled him roughly to the bed and threw him down on it. When Steve looked up, you were undressing. Slowly peeling off that skintight black outfit. Making his cock so hard that it hurt. He shook his head, averting his eyes to the sheets and you tsked.

“Lust is natural. Just let it happen.”

“I don’t want this.”

“I didn’t ask what you want.”

Steve looked up at you again, just to see your breasts newly freed from your top. You were standing there entirely nude. His eyes panned down to the sight of your dripping sex between your legs. He was disgusted with himself to find that the sight of you naked brought him immense pleasure. Some sick part of him desperately wanted to have sex with you. The rational part absolutely didn’t.

You crawled over him on the bed and ripped the button on his pants open before roughly pulling them and his boxers down his legs. When he tried to stop you, you grabbed both of his arms.

“You touch me again without my say so and I’ll break your fucking arms. Stay still.” Your voice changed in tone as you spoke, deeper and more pronounced and he could swear it echoed against the walls despite being little more than a whisper. Your eyes flashed red as you took in his shaking form helpless beneath you.

His cock was leaking precum, the head was pretty and red like the heated expression on his face. You grabbed it roughly, eagerly jacking him off.

“Is this how you do it, Stevie? Is this how you fuck yourself when you think of me?”

“No, I—ugh!” He found himself thrusting pathetically into your hand.

“Good boy,” you said, taking your hand off of him and positioning yourself in his lap. When you pressed the head of his cock to your clit, Steve shook under you, taking in a deep inhale of breath.

When you slid onto him, Steve saw stars. His head flew back onto the pillow, hands fisted in the sheets as he was enveloped in your tight warmth. Your hand gently dragged against his face while your rode him.

You set a relentless pace.

Steve didn’t know much about demons, but he did know that there was no way being inside one should feel this fucking good. You were gripping him like a vise, a much tighter fit than anything his hand could simulate. Your breasts bounced with each undulation and Steve was mesmerized.

You were sin incarnate and you were taking Father Rogers to hell with you.

Yes, that was it. Steve was going to die. He knew it. This was not a sort of ecstasy meant to be experienced by human beings. A mind and body consuming pleasure that had him releasing deep groans into the stagnant air of his room.

Steve was going to die. And he knew his luck would have him see you in hell where you would torture him all over again. He might even welcome it.

No, he couldn’t think like that. But with the way you were moaning above him, pretty mouth slightly parted as you reached down to rub at your clit, he was starting to think that maybe, maybe this wasn’t so wrong…

“What a waste. Hiding this big fucking cock where no one can get it. Do you like that, Stevie? Don’t you like my pussy?”

He didn’t say anything. He felt like he couldn’t. His teeth bit into his bottom lip, willing himself not to come undone inside you.

You grew angry at his silence and wrapped your hand around his neck.

“Fucking answer me!” A slight squeeze of your hand had him gasping out a reply.

“Yes! Yes, I like it! I like your pussy!”

“Good boy! Good fucking boy!”

You came down on him even faster, setting a pace that had him hurtling toward his end.

“Please, please—I’m going to, oh God, I can’t!”

“Yes, you can. Fuck, it’s okay, baby. I’m close, too.”

When he came, it felt like the rapture did, too. Like he was going to be delivered body and spirit to Satan’s doorstep for having intercourse with this demon whore. Steve’s entire body jolted and it felt like an out of body experience. That sweet release of pressure, filling your warm insides to the brim and slowly leaking out and around his cock.

He whined pathetically as you continued to ride him, your pace picking up as you reached your own high. The overstimulation was killing him. He wanted to push you off, but knew better.

When you finally reached your peak, both of the lamps in the room flickered violently while your eyes rolled back and you ground your pelvis into his, getting every last pinch of pleasure you could out of the encounter.

When you were done and pulled yourself off of him, he breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe now you would leave him alone.

You leaned down, putting your face just in front of his before pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“I’ll see you next week, Father.”

------------------

Mahi's Monster Mash

[lyteofgod]

lol love how when people think of pastors/priests, they think of exorcisms for some reason? Performing exorcism is actually really unusual, the only times I've ever heard of it was in weird cases of a child showing too much interest in Satanism or having a bad tantrum that their family calls a Priest (I don't agree with this, especially if the kid doesn't know the Priest and they aren't looking to actually communicate with them), but that's also really unusual and uncommon! One time I actually heard of a real exorcism, and this is the only time, was when a Pastor I knew had met this women who was a witch and really believed she was under demonic possession, and the Pastor prayed over her for the demon to leave her alone.

Otherwise, exorcism isn't practiced at all. "Demons" rarely, rarely, ever take on their 'true' forms in front of people. It's literally unheard of and only shown in mythology. Demons are present in mental illness most of the time, that's literally what 'demonic possession' is. So, Priests/Pastors aren't actually holding up crosses and saying 'Back away, Satan!' lol they're usually found visiting retirement homes and counting heads.

Also stop sexualising clergymen, please. You might need an exorcism.... I AM JUDGING YOU!!

[kuumara]

A turn of events

"Thank God you're here,"

"No problem."

"I don't- I don't know how to make him normal anymore, or what to do to make him eat- he doesn't even eat! He's just down there all the time, I'm telling you it's because-"

"It's alright, miss. I advise you to wait here, we never know what can happen while dealing with people like him,"

"Oh, alright- Do you need anything? Water?"

"No, no thank you, miss. We better get this over with quick."

"Alright. It's down the hallway, third door on the left and down the stairs,"

"Thank you, miss."

"No, thank you- and be careful, please,"

He smiles calmly. "I'm a professional,"

The miss smiles back, nervously, and he's already halfway down the stairs. His suitcase is heavy, a Holy Cross tied to it, clanging.

As he gets to the bottom of the stairs, to the basement, he holds the cross in order to stop it from making noise.

The basement is a stark contrast from the rest of the traditional, well-kept manor. It's filthy, grey, and the ceiling is full of metal pipes.

There's only one closed door at the end of the hallway he's standing in. The other rooms' doors appear to have been taken off.

He carefully and quietly makes his way to the door, highly alert in case the patient comes from one of the dark rooms with no doors. He halts right before the door and pulls out a spray bottle, filled with Holy Water.

He slowly starts opening the door, heart pounding loudly. He's done this numerous times, yet he's never gotten used to this feeling.

This feeling? He thinks about this feeling, and realizes: this feeling is now much more intense than any time before. He has felt very violent, negative energy from some other patients, yes, but this is different. The energy here is melancholy, sad, desperate, more than anything he's ever felt before. And it fills him with sadness as well.

He finally opens the door, and in the small room there's only one candle lit and a lot of books. A lot.

As his eyes get used to the darkness, he sees, in the corner, surrounded by walls of books, the patient.

He hasn't attacked him, or even lifted his head from his hands for that matter. He's just sitting there, long hair blocking his face in a filthy room with his rich, bourgeois clothing.

He steps closer to the patient, he can see that he's shaking. He crouches to meet his eyes, but the patient is scared more than anything.

"Hello," he whispers softly, not wanting to scare him more.

"Hi." The patient, much to his surprise, answers. His voice is hoarse and weak.

"I'm here to help you."

"Everyone says that." The patient replies, voice and the energy getting angrier.

"Who is everyone?" He asks, sitting down and facing him. He needs to let him know he isn't trying to hurt him.

"The doctors. The priests. The scientists." The patient shivers. "They wanted to electrocute me, drill holes in my head- I barely made it out alive,"

His breath catches, and the patients lifts his head, revealing his face. His eyes are curious now, but still wet and red.

"What's your name?" he asks the patient.

"You first."

"Will Byers."

"Michael Wheeler," the patient says, and Will thinks it suits him. Michael was an angel, and this one isn't far from that, he thinks. But- he's getting distracted, by Michael's dark eyes and strong nose, making his lips curl into a calm smile.

"Mister Wheeler, I'm not here to do anything those people did."

Michael's expression eased a little, humming.

"What are you going to do, then," he asked, never breaking eye contact.

"Well... your mother called me to perform an exorcism... But I doubt that will be necessary..." he said, careful not to scare Michael.

"You're troubled, and not because of a literal demon," Will tried to make him feel safe, and it was succeeding, since he was no longer trembling. Michael's eyes lit up.

"So. Tell me about this."

"About what..."

"How did you end up here?"

Michael shifted, carefully to not knock over the towers of books.

"They want to kill me, that's how," he whispered. "They don't want me to feel better- they just want me to..." he trailed off, and Will looked at him with understanding.

"To be like them," Will hummed. Michael looked at him again, surprised, and huffed a laugh.

"Yeah." He smiled.

They sat like that in silence for a while, all until the little bit of candle that was still there went out. They both felt like they finally found someone to trust. And it was true.

"You still have to eat." Will said, as the candle flickered out.

"I'm not eating their food." Michael groaned, and Will felt him getting mad again.

"What about someone else's food?" he suggested.

"Well- I- I can't just leave, if that's what you're implying..."

"I can tell them you're- dangerous, or not sane, whatever you want." Michael looked at him, disbelieving.

"I'm a professional. They will believe me." He smiled reassuringly.

"But... how do I know you're not going to hurt me after you take me away? Or actually put me in a facility?"

"I won't. I swear," Will eagerly explained. He will do anything to rid people of their demons, literal and metaphorical- especially Michael. They're alike, and he would regret not helping him for the rest of his life.

"Michael," Will said quietly, after a moment of silence and Michael thinking.

"Listen... They could kill you here," he lifted his gaze to Will's now, eyes wide.

"I know," he matched Will's tone. "I know, I-" and then his breath hitched. His shoulders were shaking uncontrollably, trying to catch his breath to finish his sentence. But he couldn't, all he could get out his throat was sobbing.

Will scooted closer, and leaned on his hand on the floor next to Michael's legs. With the other, he held his arm, dragging his hand up and down soothingly.

That only made Michael cry more, mostly because Will understood him.

He's been soothed by his mother before, after the electro-shock therapy, but she didn't understand that he was crying then because he didn't want to change, not because he wanted to. She cried with him because she desperately wanted him to be a heterosexual, whereas he cried because he was being held tightly by a person that only loved a version of him she had made up in her head.

Michael threw himself at Will, leaning forward and sinking his face into the fabric of his coat. And Will held him just as quickly as he came close, hugging him firmly.

Eventually, Michael stopped. Will didn't know how much time had passed; feeling Michael's whole being so close to him made him feel dazed.

"I'll go with you," Michael said, not pulling away.

"Okay." Will whispered into his ear.

However, neither of them wanted to pull away, so they stayed like that all until they heard mister Wheeler walking down the stairs, presumably wanting to check if something had happened.

Will explained to him that he'd talked to Michael about the demon, but unfortunately couldn't get it out and said he wanted to study Michael and his demon at his own residence.

Mister Wheeler of course agreed, he would try everything without hesitation in order to cure his son of homosexuality; his own words. And so, Michael had escaped his manor prison and begun a new story.

At least Argyle and Jonathan, the manor's gardeners say so.

And Max, whom Will and Michael met when they had first changed location in order for Michael's family to not find them

And El, the owner of a house they stayed at once when running from mister Wheeler's hired hunters.

And Dustin and Lucas, the owners of a pub they sought safety at.

And Jonathan and Joyce, who...

---

blahbla blha 20th or 19th or 18th century byler blahblah bla exorcist will but really he's just a therapist looking for people in need blahblablha mike being rejected by his rich family for his homo tendencies blablahbla them running away together lbablaalbabla i love it sm

annnyway in this fic i intended mike to actually be possessed and then he falls inlove wit will and fluff and menace mike but it turned out angsty but anywwway 😋

[ein-keiser]

Criminal Minds Season 4 Episode 17: What are your thoughts?

If you don't remember, let me summarize the episode for you: One of Emily Prentiss' old friends is murdered by a priest who practices exorcism on his victims.

The episode had an open ending, a cliffhanger, so to say. Many fans speculate that he could have used poison, specifically Aconite (Aconitum napellus, monkshood, wolfsbane, leopard's bane, devil's helmet, or blue rocket).

Share your thoughts about the episode and ending. What would you have wished for if there had been a second part to the episode?

What did you think about the religious trauma we saw from Emily, which differs from Morgan's religious trauma?

Aconite

Aconite poisoning is a serious condition that can occur if you ingest, inhale, or absorb aconite through your skin. Aconite is a toxic substance found in the Aconitum genus of plants, which includes monkshood, wolfsbane, and leopard's bane.

Symptoms of aconite poisoning can vary depending on the amount of toxin ingested, inhaled, or absorbed. They can include dizziness, nausea, vomiting, confusion, anxiety, hallucinations, seizures, muscle paralysis, cardiac arrhythmias, heart failure, respiratory failure, and death.

If you suspect someone has been poisoned by aconite, call the Poison Control Center immediately. To stay safe from aconite poisoning, be aware of the appearance of aconite plants, avoid contact with them, wear protective gear when handling aconite plants, and never ingest, inhale, or absorb aconite in any form.

I am not an expert on this topic, so there may be some misinformation. Please do your own research for any reason you might need.

[technomancing-in-a-magic-world]

So update on the toaster situation: Me and the lads are gonna be bringing it over in the weekend.

It's started changing how many slots it has when we look away, turned a perfectly good piece of toast into a cooked carrot despite NOT being marketed as capable of transmutation, and Thim is fairly certain it's starting to gain sentience.

Also, someone drew a face on it and we can't get it off.

Very Interesting... I've got an idea on what the problem might be, but I'd need to see it in person to confirm.

But First: Basic Safety Procedures when Dealing with a Cursed Object!

Rule 1: Do NOT use the item for it's intended purpose. Most of the time this will make the situation worse.

Rule 2: If the object begins to speak, whether that be verbally, telepathically, semaphore, ect, Do NOT pay any attention. If you so much as acknowledge that it is speaking, it will not leave you alone.

Rule 3: If the object asks you to do something, DO NOT DO IT. This can be anywhere from asking you to toast bread inside of it, to toasting a soul inside of it. Obviously, you see why the latter is a problem, but the first? You don't know what kind of evil plan this object may have. If you do what it wants, you are achieving what it wants.

Rule 4: If it threatens you or anyone else, whether you care about them or not, Destroy the object. Don't bother bringing it into the shop. At that point, your toaster is gone. Get a new one.

RULE 5 (the important one): IF YOU FOR ANY REASON BREAK ONE OF THE ABOVE RULES, BRING IT IN IMMEDIATELY. DO NOT WAIT FOR THE WEEKEND. DO NOT WAIT FOR A CONVENIENT TIME. IF YOU NEED TO, TELEPORT IT INTO MY SHOP. I ALSO DO HOUSE CALLS IF THEY ARE NECESSARY

Why am I so serious about Rule 5? Because if you do any of the above things, and the problem gets worse, there's about a 50/50 chance that you may have caused the birth of a greater demon, and it is no longer able to be destroyed by conventional means. The only other option is that you've summoned a slightly-less-than-greater demon, and the problem is still very large. At this point, unless you have a priest on call, or a direct line to one of the HEAVENLY TECHNICIANS, You will no longer be of any use unless you know how to do a Modified Gregorian Exorcism. If you do know how to do a Modified Gregorian Exorcism, PERFORM THE FULL RITUAL ON IT IMMEDIATELY.

Please inform anyone else with access to this toaster about these safety precautions, and bear in mind, that interacting with the toaster is the only way for it to get worse.

[shen-daozhang]

Getting to Know Your BL Mutuals

rules: answer the questions and tag some people. include the tag ‘g2ky BL mutuals 2022’ on your post so we can find everyone’s answer.

thanks to @yanwushi for the tag- I am finally doing this!!! Doing both novels as well as visual media

What have been BLs that took you by surprise this year?

Wushuang/Peerless. I was going to read it eventually, but Thousand Autumns is such a favorite I was putting it off because I thought there was no way Wushuang could be as good as its predecessor. @yanwushi finally got me to read it and omfg... seriously the only person more obsessed with Cui Buqu than Feng Xiao is me. This one rocketed to the top of my favorite novels in record speed. I also want to mention that as someone who is chronically ill, I really appreciated the way Cui Buqu's disability was handled- honestly I think it's the best portrayal of chronic illness/disability I've read in a c-novel.

Nan Chan. I hate calling this book weird because I think that's a loaded term but it's unusual for sure, and I didn't expect to fall in love with a book that's about a sword and a demon carp. As someone who is autistic I got a lot out of both main characters trying to figure out how to act "human" and deal with identifying and processing their emotions. Also I just think that Cang Ji should be able to eat whomever he wants, as a treat.

Little Mushroom. “你只是一只很小的蘑菇” CRYING SCREAMING THROWING UP. I never in a million years expected to be emotionally compromised by a book about a sentient mushroom but here we are. Normally I love angst but I had to stop reading and check if it had a happy ending because I honestly couldn't have handled it if it didn't (it does). Also honestly one of the best pieces of post-apocalyptic fiction that I read and I loved the aspects of cosmic horror in the second volume.

It's not technically a BL, but Under the Skin (c-drama). I usually don't watch modern crime dramas for personal reasons, but I decided to give it a chance for language practice and because I like Tan Jianci. I expected to have it on in the background and instead the show grabbed me by the throat and wouldn't let go. (tho it made me impatient for the Mo Du/Silent Reading donghua and live action, and for Winner is King. when???)

What have been BLs that you felt a bit disappointed with this year?

Copper Coins. I enjoyed it and I thought that Xue Xian is a delightfully full-of-himself protagonist but to me it felt like a young author's early work that needed trimming in some parts and expansion in others. I just really felt like it wasn't the masterpiece that I'd heard it talked up to be. (Although to be fair I think I did it a major disservice reading it after Nan Chan)

The Defective's donghua. It just didn't grab me at all which sucks bc I like the novel, and I really hated what they did with some of the female characters (wtf is with Penny's character design and what was with the choice to have Mint never speak??)

Legend of Exorcism donghua. I know there are people who adore this show, and I desperately wanted to like it... but there was something I can't quite put my finger on that turned me off. I think I would like it more if I'd read the novel, I felt like there were undercurrents of a good story that weren't being properly delved or something. That said, it did pique my interest enough to put the novel on my to-read list, and I'm looking forward to getting to it.

What has been your favorite BL this year?

WushuangWushuangWushuangWushuangWushuang. Did I mention Wushuang already?

Favorite BL/GL couples (not just of 2022)

Feng Xiao & Cui Buqu (Wushuang), Gu Yun & Chang Geng (Sha Po Lang), Yan Wushi & Shen Qiao (Thousand Autumns), Ranwan (Erha)

If you had to suggest a BL for someone what would it be?

If you like xianxia and a quirky found family (and also knives), hands down Liu Yao: The Revitalization of Fu Yao Sect by Priest

If you're more into wuxia elements and rivals-to-lovers-but-still-rivals, Wushuang/Peerless by Meng Xishi.

Please, more people need to read these books. Also if you're looking for more things to read, I have a libguide reading list here! I need to update it, but it's an ongoing project. Let me know if there are any BL you think I should add!

What’s your non-BL favorite this year?

WIND BLOWS FROM LONGXI *banging pots and pans together* screaming, crying, throwing up. IT'S SO GOOD. I desperately want more "gritty" historical shows like this one. The Three Kingdoms Period is one of my special interests and Chen Kun is one of my favorite actors, seriously this show was almost tailor-made for me. Also for you Guardian fans out there Bai Yu is one of the two main characters.

Honorable mention to Love Between Fairy and Devil, which made me take back everything I had previously said about Dylan Wang Hedi's acting.

Tagging: I think everyone I'm mutuals with has already done this, but if you see it and you want to please pretend I tagged you :)

[izzy-b-hands]

Modern AU Jack ends up babysitting on short notice for Mary and Doug. There's also a failed exorcism and a squirrel or two.

---

"He can't be the only one," Mary says.

But, her phone confirms it. Everyone else is either working, out of town, or otherwise unavailable.

"It's fine," Doug kisses her temple. "I can go see this exhibition some other time."

"You said this artist is terminally ill and not seeking treatment," she scoffs. "When would you see his work, and him! Ever again? Presuming he would tour with his works again if he should live another few years?"

"Well..."

"Ed trusts him, and I trust Ed," Mary continues, and presses the final contact to call, to beg to babysit the kids for the night and into the next day.

--

"Uncle Jack!" Louis leaps into his arms.

"Hell-excuse me, I mean, heck yeah!"

Mary smiles. "They already know every swear word from Stede and Doug putting together the new play house in the backyard."

"That shit is haunted," Doug warns as he tosses on his coat. "Seriously. Even the kids are nervous around it."

"It's made of plastic, the scariest thing about it is probably whatever fumes it emits if it would burn," Mary says gently. "Just please be outside with them if they play in it. The yard is fenced and there's a camera, but-"

"Haunted," Doug interjects. "Be careful."

Mary shoves him out the door, and then it's the three of them.

"It's only haunted because Dad and Doug accidentally killed a squirrel while building it," Alma says. "Do you wanna know how?"

"I would," Jack lets her take his hand and lead them into the living room, Louis still on his hip. "Ooh, can I guess?"

She nods eagerly.

"They accidentally sat on it."

Instant giggles, but a shake of their heads.

"Accidentally trapped it inside the play house, and it freaked out and died?"

"Nope!" Alma declares. "Give up?"

"I do."

"It fell on Doug, and he screamed, and then Dad smacked it off him with a hammer into the fence!"

He bites his tongue. He shouldn't laugh. It wasn't a nice way for that poor squirrel to go out. But then, it also was a panic response, and he can just see Stede nearly smacking Doug as he sent the squirrel to whatever afterlife squirrels have.

"May the little guy rest in peace," he finally says.

"Can we do a-" Louis pauses. "What's the thing where you tell a ghost to go away again?"

"An exorcism?" Jack asks.

"Yeah!"

"I've got that Ouija board my friends and I made at school!" Alma cries. "I'll go get it. Uncle Jack, you get candles and uh. Whatever else we need!"

"Don't we need a priest for this?" he asks.

"You're kind of like one, right?" Louis asks as he points Jack towards the kitchen and an extra supply of battery operated tea light candles.

"In what way?"

"An adult?"

Jack snorts. "Save that one and tell your dad and Ed that. They'll laugh their asses off."

"Why?"

"Because they're very silly."

"You're telling me," Louis rolls his eyes and sighs, and it takes everything in Jack not to immediately laugh.

"Okay," Alma announces, and he turns to her.

And immediately nearly laughs again.

She is every bit Stede's kid. Covered in a dark black mesh and lace veil, wearing a long black skirt and long-sleeved black top covered in sequins. She's even done her makeup in black and dark red eyeshadow, though that application screams that Ed taught it to her.

"I don't think we'll need a priest, or even the candles," he says instead. "Your sister has it covered by the look of her."

Louis finally lets him put him down as they make their way into the darkening backyard, and he can sort of understand the creepy factor. The bit of yard is fenced off from the rest of the land they own, but it's still a massive yard, with the new playhouse tucked in a far corner.

"Does this have a fucking router?" Jack asks as he squishes himself into the playhouse and peers around.

"How else would we watch movies in here?" Alma asks.

"I...a DVD player and an extension cord?"

"What? No," she scoffs. "Uncle Jack, we've come a long way since then."

He thinks of the VHS player he's been doing his best to keep up since he inherited it from his mom, and decides not to even get into that.

"Okay, everyone put your hands on the planchette," she continues, setting a construction paper and glitter covered homemade Ouija board on the fake woodgrain plastic table between them. "Uh. If you can reach."

His knees are pressed solidly against the table, but he reaches around them as best he can to get a hand on the paper planchette.

"I know squirrels don't know English, but why are you still here?" she demands of the air in the playhouse.

Nothing happens.

"Ghosts aren't real," Louis says with a smile, but his lower lip quivers.

"Louis!" Alma groans. "Don't ruin it! You already hate coming in here, and it isn't any fun being in here alone all the time-"

There's a loud thunk onto the roof of the house, and she cuts herself off with a hushed gasp.

"It's probably just a-"

"Shut up!" Alma hisses at Jack. "It's the ghost!"

There's a chittering sound. Scratching. Clawing.

"I don't wanna die by squirrel," Louis whimpers, and reaches for his hand.

"You two know Uncle Jack has seen some shit, right?"

They nod.

"Let me go out and face it. You trust me?"

They nod again.

He less crawls and more falls out of the playhouse, and almost directly onto a very alive, very fat squirrel.

"So it's you," he scowls at it. "Scaring these poor kids!"

It studies him, and almost looks cute.

Then it leaps for his face.

--

"Shhh," Jack smiles as he opens the door for Doug and Mary. "They're sleeping in. Had a late night of movie watching, probably a little too much sugar."

"I think they'll survive," Doug says. "What's up with your face?"

"Just my face!"

"You have..." Mary joins Doug in examining his face. "Are those bite marks?"

"We made a lil visit to the ER too," Jack chuckles. "The playhouse is no longer haunted, and that's what matters!"

He shuffles out past them before they can ask any more questions, like how much did it cost to pay upfront for the various shots required to make sure he didn't die of rabies or squirrel rot or whatever else there might be.

His face is damaged, but his pride isn't. He fought that goddamn squirrel and won, AND managed to keep the kids happy in the end, even if it did require some bribing with treats after the ER.

For a guy without kids, that usually isn't considered responsible enough to look after them? He calls it a motherfucking win.

[aeoki]

Ghostic: Exorcism - Chapter 5

Location: In Front of Drink Stand Characters: Yuzuru, Keito & Tatsumi

< The next day. In front of the drink stand after yesterday’s commotion. >

Tatsumi: *Gulp gulp…* Phew…♪

It certainly has become the season to long for a warm drink.

Keito-san, would you like a hot cocoa? It’s sweet and I’m sure it’ll clear the exhaustion from your lesson.

Keito: No, thanks. I appreciate your recommendation but I’ll have tea. Drinking something sweet might have the opposite effect and make me even more thirsty.

Nevertheless, yesterday sure was a disaster, huh, Kazehaya.

It was a normal haunted house up until getting spooked by the poltergeist, but I didn’t think it would affect our phones either.

I was anxious thinking a haunting really was going on but… Thanks to you keeping calm, the situation didn’t break out into a huge commotion. That was excellent.

I’m the son of a Buddhist priest so I shouldn’t be believing in things like that. I should do some self-reflection.

Tatsumi: No no. I also believe in spirits and the like.

But it seems similar things have been happening to Eichi-san as well, so I thought it would be best to leave it in the hands of a specialist.

Keito: The experts know best, huh. I also wish to give it a more appropriate name as opposed to the “purification ceremony”.

I suppose this is my fate as someone who was born Eichi’s childhood friend. I must be his eternal playmate in his eyes.

Tatsumi: Fufu. I think that’s a role more honourable than any specialist, though.

As for me, I’m simply glad that I was able to enjoy my time with you as I don’t get to do that very often.

Keito: I see. We did end up running into each other after our lessons, so perhaps some sort of fate is indeed involved.

I’m sure we’re both busy with “ES Halloween” but it won’t be bad to have a chat on days we’re both free.

Why don’t we go to “COCHI” next time?

Tatsumi: Sure. Thank you for the invitation, Keito-san.

Yuzuru: …Oh. What a rare sight to see you two having a pleasant chat. Could it be regarding the “purification ceremony”?

Keito: Oh, it’s you, Fushimi. Are you feeling better?

Yuzuru: Yes. I have made a full recovery.

I was just on my way to my lesson, so there is no need to worry about me anymore.

Keito: I’m glad to hear it. I know it’s difficult to also have to do student council work, but don’t push yourself too much. 

Yuzuru: Yes. I suppose I have also inconvenienced you two so I sincerely apologise for that.

I heard from the Young Master yesterday. He told me that both of you participated in the “purification ceremony” on my behalf.

Keito: Yeah, Eichi’s whims always call for trouble.

If you’ve made a full recovery then it was worth devoting ourselves to the task.

Come to think of it, Anzu came to watch “AKATSUKI” practise yesterday, but it seems she was looking forward to “fine’s” Halloween activities this year.

Yuzuru: Fufu. I’m grateful to hear that.

Anzu-san helped us quite a lot last year for Halloween, after all. If she is expecting great things from us this year as well, then we must meet those expectations.

I also ran into Anzu-san when I left the medical office yesterday.

But I hadn’t made a full recovery then and, on the contrary, I may have caused her to worry.

To make up for that, I fully intend on providing the finest entertainment I possibly can.

If you two would like to see our performance, by all means, please do come to watch us.

Tatsumi: All right. I shall discuss the matter with the members of “ALKALOID” and let you know.

It seems it’s Hiiro-san’s first time experiencing Halloween. I’m sure he’ll enjoy things like the haunted house.

Yuzuru: Thank you very much. Please come and enjoy the festivities with your companions.

If Ayase-sama is able to attend, I would like an opportunity to speak with him as well.

Tatsumi: Mayoi-san….?

Hm. I didn’t know you two knew each other but… Are you classmates?

Yuzuru: No, I’m in a different class. It’s simply because I saw him staring curiously at the “ES Haunted House” a few days ago and thought he was interested in things like that.

Tatsumi: Oh, I see. So that’s what happened.

Keito: I’m sure anyone would look at it strangely if they saw a mansion had suddenly appeared out of nowhere like that. Kanzaki and Kiryuu were both surprised and said, “What’s that?”.

Tatsumi: You’re right. It certainly was spectacular. Then, I shall send word to Mayoi-san.

Yuzuru: Thank you very much.

It shouldn’t be very crowded if you were to come before it is open to the public. The early morning will most likely be best.

Tatsumi: Yes. We, too, are people who provide entertainment to others, so I suppose I shall take you up on your offer and go in the early morning. 

I’m sure everyone in “ALKALOID” will be surprised after seeing how well-built the “ES Haunted House” is. Let’s make Halloween a great one ♪

← Previous Chapter ᠂ ⚘ ˚⊹˚ ⚘ ᠂  Next Chapter →

[thorntonkrell-blog-blog]

I'm well known for losing my wallet and panicking when I do so. The panic doesn't help in the search for the wallet which of course when I find it, if I find it is in the last place that I look.

It would be nice if I had a prayer instead of a panic in those harrowing moments.

Maybe a prayer of St. Anthony who is the Catholic patron saint of losing objects. Saint Anthony was born in 1195 and became a Franciscan monk in 1220. He was an eloquent, man who believed in poverty and simplicity.

He even brought Leonardo back from the dead. Leonardo was attending one of Anthony's sermons when he passed out. According to various versions Leonardo was a young, old man who was a wealthy merchant/poor laborer who collapsed from exhaustion, boredom, cardiac arrest and or stage fright.

Anyhow Anthony approached the collapsed person and prayed over him and he snapped out of whatever funk he was dealing with at the moment to the astonishment of everybody present for the sermon that day.

That's good enough for me.

Can I call you Tony?

Hey Tony

With all due respect, patron saint of lost articles, I ask for your help in finding my lost wallet. You have been known to work many miracles of healing and restoration, and I believe that you have the power to intercede with God on my behalf.

Please pray for me and ask God to help me find my wallet, which contains important items that I need for my daily life. Help me to keep calm and patient as I search, and guide me to the place where it may have been misplaced or lost.

I trust in your powerful intercession, Tony, and I thank you for your love and compassion. Amen."

Saint Anthony of Padua, also known as Saint Anthony of Lisbon, was a Catholic priest and friar of the Franciscan Order. He was born Fernando Martins de Bulhões in Lisbon, Portugal in 1195, and entered the Augustinian Order at a young age before joining the Franciscans in 1220. He became known for his eloquent preaching and his devotion to poverty and simplicity.

During his lifetime, Saint Anthony traveled extensively throughout Europe, preaching and spreading the Gospel message. He was particularly known for his ability to convert heretics and for his miracles of healing and exorcism. He died on June 13, 1231 in Padua, Italy at the age of 36, and was canonized by Pope Gregory IX within a year of his death.

Saint Anthony is perhaps best known as the patron saint of lost articles, but he is also invoked for many other purposes, including finding a spouse, healing, and protection against harm. He is often depicted holding the infant Jesus, and is sometimes referred to as the "Wonder-Worker" due to the many miracles attributed to him. His feast day is celebrated on June 13.

what miracles are attributed to Saint Anthony

There are many miracles attributed to Saint Anthony of Padua, both during his lifetime and after his death. Here are a few examples:

The Miracle of the Mule: According to legend, a heretic named Bonilone challenged Saint Anthony's belief in the Real Presence of Jesus in the Eucharist. To prove his point, Saint Anthony took an unbroken mule and placed before it the Eucharist in a monstrance, and then refused the animal's feed until it had paid homage to the Blessed Sacrament. After three days of starvation, the mule bowed its head before the Eucharist, and Saint Anthony won the debate.

The Miracle of the Lost Book: One of the most famous miracles attributed to Saint Anthony involves a novice who had left the Franciscan Order and stolen a valuable psalter, or book of psalms, from the monastery. When Anthony discovered the theft, he prayed for the return of the book, and the novice was moved to return it to the monastery.

The Miracle of the Baby Speaking: According to legend, a woman in Padua had been accused of killing her newborn baby. Saint Anthony prayed over the child's corpse, and the baby came back to life, speaking and clearing the woman's name.

The Miracle of the Fish: A poor woman who had been cheated out of some fish by a greedy merchant came to Saint Anthony for help. He went to the river where the fish had been caught and called out to the fish, which came to the surface with the woman's missing fish in its mouth.

The Miracle of the Sick Man's Confession: According to legend, a man who was too ill to make his confession was visited by Saint Anthony, who heard his confession and gave him the Last Rites. When the man died shortly thereafter, Saint Anthony restored him to life, and the man was able to make a proper confession and receive absolution.

These are just a few of the many miracles attributed to Saint Anthony of Padua. His reputation for miraculous healing and intercession has made him a beloved figure in the Catholic Church and beyond.

What was the name of the man that Saint Anthony restored to life

There are several stories of people being restored to life through the intercession of Saint Anthony, but one of the most famous is the story of a man named Leonardo, who had died suddenly while attending a sermon given by Saint Anthony. According to legend, Saint Anthony approached the body and prayed over it, and Leonardo was restored to life.

The story of Leonardo is recounted in many different versions, and the details vary. Some accounts say that he was a young man, while others describe him as an elderly person. In some versions of the story, he was a wealthy merchant who had been struck down by a sudden illness, while in others he was a poor laborer who had collapsed from exhaustion.

Despite the variations in the story, the central theme remains the same: that Saint Anthony had the power to intercede with God on behalf of those in need, and that his prayers and miracles could bring about healing, restoration, and new life.

Can you tell me more about the Miracle of the Fish

According to the story of the Miracle of the Fish, a poor woman from Rimini in Italy had been cheated out of her catch of fish by a dishonest merchant. She prayed to Saint Anthony for help, and the saint instructed her to return to the river where she had caught the fish and call out to them by name.

The woman followed Saint Anthony's instructions and called out to the fish by name, asking them to come to the surface of the water. To her amazement, a large fish swam to the bank of the river, holding in its mouth the exact number of fish that the woman had lost.

The woman took the fish to the merchant and confronted him with the miracle that had occurred. The merchant was so struck by the power of Saint Anthony's intercession that he repented of his dishonesty and returned the stolen fish to the woman.

The Miracle of the Fish is one of many stories that demonstrate Saint Anthony's reputation for miraculous intercession on behalf of the poor and the oppressed. It is also a testament to his belief in the value of all of God's creatures, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant.

what would be a good prayer to Saint Anthony when I need toi find a lost wallet

Here is a prayer to Saint Anthony that you can use when you need to find a lost wallet:

"Dear Saint Anthony, patron saint of lost articles, I ask for your help in finding my lost wallet. You have been known to work many miracles of healing and restoration, and I believe that you have the power to intercede with God on my behalf.

Please pray for me and ask God to help me find my wallet, which contains important items that I need for my daily life. Help me to keep calm and patient as I search, and guide me to the place where it may have been misplaced or lost.

I trust in your powerful intercession, Saint Anthony, and I thank you for your love and compassion. Amen."

[forthegothicheroine]

mira please write the victorian x-files

All I know is, I already imagined a scenario where Van Helsing got his contacts in the church when he was called in to examine if a patient was in need of exorcism- and he saved the day by determining that the subject was just having a rare form of seizures and post-traumatic responses to them, and needed urgent medical care. The priest character thanks him, but asks if he would be able to recognize a real demon. Van Helsing thinks he'd know the real thing.

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

You were talking about it being spooky season, so. What about Ghost Peter trying to convince Aro about the merits of really cheesy halloween? Putting up some nice pumpkin decorations and very anatomically incorrect bat skeleton around Volterra?

Aro should never have allowed Peter internet access, or access to his bank accounts.

On with the fic!

--

"You do realize that... All Hallow's Eve is not really that big of a deal here, yes? I am older than the concept of the holiday itself, it is not necessary to celebrate it."

"Does this look like the face of a guy who gives a shit?"

"No, because you never do."

"Exactly!"

Aro sighed, rubbing at his eyes as he heard the ghost that had been haunting him for months now rummaging through a box that had been shipped to the villa. The servants knew not to ask questions, and the rest of the clan had not seen the package, as any mail for Aro was sent directly to his private office.

Which was for the best, because Peter had ordered some terrible, tacky decorations and such.

"It's not even that big of a deal here in Europe, isn't it more of an American thing?" Aro asked. "Or for children?"

"God, for an ancient vampire, you're a fuckin' buzzkill when it comes to horror." Peter scoffed and pulled out something that made Aro wince, but the ghost was grinning.

"What is that?"

"A bat!"

"That is... no, that is not a bat."

"Bat skeleton!"

"Bat skeletons do not look anything like that." Aro winced. Yes, his species of vampire were not associated with the flying mammals, however there was a kinship between them and other groups of vampires, so Aro still felt the need to be offended anyway.

The cheap plastic was gaudy, clearly meant to look old but it look like someone threw it in the dirt. The bones were all wrong, as were the teeth, the skull, why did it have ears!? There are no bones in the ears to make them shaped like that!

Peter looked pleased as all get out as he pulled out another object, some sort of little disk that when he activated it, it was flashing multi-colored lights. According to an excited Peter, you put it into a jackolantern.

"You're doing this to make my life some sort of living hell, aren't you?" Aro asked, taking the object from him, pocketing it after he shut it off.

"I deserve to make this place spooky." Peter replied. "I mean, it's haunted now, yeah? Therefore, it needs to match that! I even got those shitty, fake cobwebs that take forever to clean up."

The vampire glared at him, but Peter had gotten used to his dark looks by now, as he seemed unaffected. "Peter, this place has a specific... what did you call it before, 'vibe', to it that must be kept up. We are the highest class of vampires, the most powerful, we do not decorate our home with..."

He picked up something, staring at it. "Plastic spiders."

"I repeat, buzzkill." Peter replied before using whatever ghostly powers he had to tear apart more plastic packaging, then tossed something over himself.

It was some sort of sheet with two holes in it. Aro just stared at him as Peter rose from the ground, floating, waving about his arms under the sheet, making 'oooo' noises.

Aro wondered, not for the first time, if the local priest in this town was willing to do an exorcism.

--

There's the origin of Peter's sheet ghost costume. He'll make another one out of really expensive sheets from someone's room after Aro burns the first one.

Also, I freaking love Halloween, so I am all about the spooky, cheap plastic decorations. Aro has no taste.