#sacrilege fic

[greengoblinswifey]

Blessed Are The Tempted—Father Charlie Mayhew x Fem!Reader

summary— after partially denouncing your faith, you decide to make one last trip to see if you could feel a connection to it and God. all you left feeling was your new God’s cum deep inside you. based on this request.

warnings— sacrilege, blasphemy, father kink, daddy kink, Charlie being praised/referred to as God, objectification, ass slapping, mentions of bruises and welts, choking, face slapping, hair pulling, face fucking, fingering, spitting degrading kink, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding kink.

a/n— took a break from being depressed over finals to write this! working on the other requests so enjoy this while i take my time <3

The night was heavy, and your heels clicked loudly as you walked toward the church. Clad in a black skirt and a long black coat covering your bare skin underneath, your goth aesthetic stood out against the backdrop of the ancient stone structure. The heels you wore were intricately designed, each one featuring a subtle cross etched into the side—a nod to the symbolism that had always intrigued you, even if you’d long since stopped believing.

As you approached the church, you noticed how still the world felt. There was something almost reverent about the emptiness, the silence that wrapped itself around the tall, pointed spires. You hadn’t been here in ages. The heavy wooden door creaked as you pushed it open, the scent of incense lingering in the air, mixed with something else, something familiar.

You had called earlier, and the voice on the other end had been low, almost too smooth—Charlie. It stirred something in you, a curiosity, a feeling you hadn’t realized you missed. That’s why you were here now—one last chance to feel something, anything, before you walked away forever.

As you stepped inside, the cool air embraced you. You walked down the aisle, your heels making soft but deliberate sounds on the stone floor. Every step felt deliberate, as if you were walking toward a decision you hadn’t fully made yet.

And then you saw him. Father Charlie, standing at the altar, watching you with an intensity that made your breath catch. His eyes followed you as you walked closer, and you could feel the weight of his gaze—the same way you could feel the weight of everything that had led you here tonight.

“You came,” he said, his voice smooth, but with an edge of something else you couldn’t place. There was no judgment in his tone, just an acknowledgment of your presence, and something about that made you feel strangely seen.

“I did,” you said, standing just a few feet away from him now. The silence between you was heavy, but it was comfortable, as if you both knew there was something unspoken between you—something that neither of you were quite ready to voice.

You couldn’t ignore the way his eyes lingered on your attire, how they traced the lines of your outfit, the crosses that hung from your neck. His gaze softened just slightly, and for a moment, you saw the human side of the man who had been your confessor.

“I didn’t expect you to come back,” he admitted quietly, taking a step closer. His voice lowered as if he didn’t want to disturb the sacred silence of the church. “What made you change your mind?”

You hesitated for a moment, looking up at him through your lashes, feeling the pull of something you couldn’t quite name.

“I wanted to feel something,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, but he heard it. His eyes flashed with something—maybe understanding, maybe surprise.

He nodded slowly and for a moment, you both stood there, suspended in time. Then, as if pulling back from the edge of something, he stepped away, but not before giving you one last look—one that left a mark on you, something you couldn’t shake off.

“Whatever you need, it’s here,” he said quietly, his voice almost a promise.

You weren’t sure if you believed him, but for now, you didn’t have to.

The church was quiet, except for the soft rustling of the pages as Father Charlie read aloud from the Bible. His voice echoed through the empty pews, each word heavy with the weight of ancient teachings. Your all-black attire, with its gothic undertones, felt almost out of place here, yet you couldn’t shake the feeling that this place, this moment, was meant to answer something inside you.

Father Charlie’s voice broke through your thoughts. “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God,” he read, his eyes drifting up to meet yours. There was a tension in the air, an almost unspoken connection that lingered between you.

You tilted your head, stepping forward into the dim light. “Temptation,” you said softly, your voice playful yet tinged with a hint of challenge. “So, blessed are the pure, huh? What about those who are tempted? Are they blessed too? Or is that only for the pure?”

He faltered, his gaze dropping slightly as he shifted uncomfortably. You could see the internal battle in his eyes, but he said nothing.

The silence hung heavy between you as you stepped closer. “You preach about purity and grace, but what does it really mean?” you continued. “Does the flesh have no place in this kingdom you speak of? Or is it something man-made to make us feel something?” Your voice had dropped, the edge now sharp and questioning.

Father Charlie didn’t answer. His eyes were focused on the Bible in his hands, his knuckles white from gripping it too tightly. He was struggling—his faith, his beliefs, they all seemed to waver under your gaze. And that realization hit you hard. There was nothing here for you. The words he spoke, the symbols of faith, they meant little to you now. They were just constructs, meant to give people a sense of purpose, but you felt nothing.

A hollow laugh escaped your lips, and you shook your head. “You’re pathetic,” you muttered under your breath, your gaze moving past him. “This is all just a game, a way to make people feel like they’re in control when they’re not. You should know that.”

Father Charlie’s jaw clenched, his breath catching in his throat. “Not in the house of God,” he said, his voice low, filled with a mix of anger and frustration.

You took a step forward, your black coat sweeping around you as you moved. You could feel the tension building, the confrontation nearing its peak. You caught his gaze again, daring him to say more. “House of who?” you whispered, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. “What is He going to do about it?”

The space between you seemed to stretch, and in that moment, you knew. The boundary he had drawn, the one he believed in so firmly, meant nothing to you. You had turned away from it long ago, and now, it seemed almost laughable that he still clung to it.

The silence was thick, and for a moment, you both simply stood there, facing each other. You didn’t need this place, nor the beliefs that it offered. Father Charlie seemed to sense that, his expression darkening as the tension between you only deepened. But you no longer cared. You had found your truth, and it didn’t belong here. Not in this church, not in this faith. It made what you craved to do all the more daunting.

Slowly, with his eyes on you, you pulled your coat, revealing your bare skin underneath, your nipples only covered by a chain. The rosary hanging around your neck was a stark contrast to the sinful act you’d just committed.

In a blur of frustration and fury, he grabbed you by the hair, pulling you down to your knees on the cold marble floor. His voice was sharp as he demanded, “Confess. Beg for forgiveness for your blasphemy and sexual immorality.”

But you only smirked up at him, defiant. “Pathetic,” you muttered, the word cutting through the air like a blade.

His fingers tightened in your curls, and his face was a mixture of conflict and control. “You’re playing with fire,” he warned, his voice a low growl. “Repent, or you’ll burn.”

“I don’t have time for your fairytales, I’ll be doing no such thing, Father,” you chuckled, looking up at him with big doe eyes, “but I’d bet having a holy man like you all over me would make me holy too.”

“I rebuke the spirit of Jezebel inside you,” he bellowed.

You laughed, voice thick with mockery, “fuck it out of me, make me holy, Father.”

That was it, Father Charlie had enough. He grabbed you by the curls, pulling you to the sacred chair he would sit in during the sermons you’d come to for just five minutes max. He plopped down, frantically fumbling with his pants and belt.

“I only hope God will forgive me for what I’m about to do—no, He will. Blessed are the tempted,” he muttered, looking to the cross above him.

Your eyes panned to how hard and thick he was. But you knew you could take him, you’d show him just how good temptation felt. You’d have him crawling back for more. He was already aching for you, though the battle within himself did not waver.

The priest groaned as he shoved you onto his leaking cock, immediately hitting the back of your throat and making you gag. “That’s right bitch, gag on it. This is what you wanted. This is what you get for being a temptress,” he groaned.

You moaned, doing your best to drag your tongue along his shaft as he used your hair to glide along it. He was not going easy on you, you knew he was trying to break you. Little did he know, you couldn’t be broken, this was what you wanted.

He moved you to his balls, looking down at you with dark eyes as you took the sacks into your mouth then continued your assault on his shaft. As he went back to fucking your throat, you made sure your eyes were on him so he could see how he had you. Eyes teary, black mascara running down your cheeks, salvia and pre cum running down your chin and onto your boobs. You were completely at his mercy.

“Disgusting whore,” he moaned, as you spat onto his cock then glided your tongue over every inch of him, “y-you’re really enjoying this.”

“Mm— tell me more, tell me I’m your dirty bitch,” you pleaded.

“Fuck, you’re my dirty bitch, you’re my cock sucking bitch,” he gasped, bucking his hips as he was practically down your throat.

You suctioned your lips around him tightly, feeling the way he throbbed under the touch of your soft hands squeezing his balls. They tightened as he tipped his head back, staring up at the cross and you could feel how close he was.

“Cum for me daddy,” you moaned, bobbing your head as your dark eyes pierced into at him.

“Fucking hell,” he gasped at the nickname you gave him.

He couldn’t hold back even if he tried, as you deep throated him, his warm seed spurted down your throat, his cock throbbing. He held you down onto him, your nose touching his pubic hair as you savored the taste of the holy man’s cum you had just swallowed.

No amount of post nut clarity could prevent him from aching for more. As he stared down at you on your knees for him, he knew he needed more. This wasn’t sinful—blessed were the tempted. Right?

You shrugged off your coat and the jewelry covering your nipples and pulled down your skirt, heat rippling through your body as Charlie’s eyes raked over your figure. Left in only your thigh high stockings and your cross heels, you sat on Charlie’s lap, your back facing him.

His hand instinctively went to wrap around your throat, while the other groped you, roughly. “I should have you stoned to death for what you’re doing to me,” he murmured.

“Then I’ll see you in hell when your time comes,” you retorted.

Your wit didn’t last long as you felt two of his fingers plunge into you, and his hand tightened around your throat.

“Yes daddy, finger fuck me in front of the altar,” you moaned.

His hand snapped across your cheek, causing your head to whip to the side. “You’re enjoying this too much.”

You squirmed against him, feeling how his fingers stretched your walls. The sound of your wet pussy shamelessly filled the church causing pure desire to swell inside you. You were defiling this sacred space and this sacred man, the thought made your pussy even wetter.

“Look at you, look at what you’re forcing me to do to you,” Charlie sneered into your ear.

“If that’s what you tell yourself,” you chucked, earning another slap across the face.

“Fucking whore, your pussy is leaking all over the chair,” he uttered.

His thumb circled your clit roughly as his other fingers curled inside you, toying with the spongy spot that had you screaming his title.

“Fuck— Father. Faster, harder, make me cum,” you moaned, your head dropping to his shoulder.

His fingers thrusted into you faster and his hand gripped your neck so tight, you couldn’t breathe. “Take it bitch, this is what you wanted. This is what whores like you get.”

His efforts became too much and your body arched in his lap as your orgasm came crashing down. Your fluids spurted from your pussy, coating the floor the congregation would kneel on to pray. Charlie continued rubbing your clit, drawing every sound and every drop of your cum out of you.

“That’s a good little whore, that’s all you’re good for, being used like you’re nothing,” he cooed.

He brought his shaky fingers up to his lips, sucking your juices. “How can a slut like you taste like Heaven?”

“It’s my blessing and your curse.”

Charlie held your body against him as he stood from the chair then he laid you down, shoving your face into the floor while your upper body was still pressed against him. He sat back down, slightly leaning over as he admired your body in an uncomfortable position all for his pleasure.

“I don’t care if you’re in pain, you’re going to take whatever I give you and you’re going to praise me like I’m your God,” he bellowed, “you’ve denounced Catholicism and now you will worship me.”

His grip on your hips was bruising, surely to leave dark bruises when he was finished with you. A gasp left your lips as he slammed into you, pulling you onto his cock at the same time.

“Thank you Father, I— I worship you and praise you for everything you do to me,” you moaned.

You felt his cock throb inside you at your words. Hell would definitely be his resting place. You held up your body by your hands as Charlie slid in and out of you like an animal. He slapped your ass, welts slowly beginning to form as he moaned at the sight of his shaft being covered in your cream.

“That feels so good daddy, please. Hit me again, I’m just your servant, a vessel for you to use and fuck,” you cried.

“That’s right bitch, you’re nothing. You.are.nothing,” he growled, each word emphasized by a hard thrust into you and slaps on your ass.

You did your best to bounce on his cock as you felt the lingering stings from his hand coming down on you.

“Your ass looks so much better getting all marked up from my hand,” he chuckled, his hips snapping to meet you even faster.

All you could do was moan, your pussy fluttering around his length from how wrong it was to have him defile you in his church.

“Daddy, I— I’m gonna cum,” you cried, “please let me cum, oh God, my God, please let me cum.”

“Cum all over your God’s cock,” he muttered, his hand coming down on your ass with a stinging smack.

You shuddered underneath him, your pussy twitching as your orgasm overtook you. He reached under, rubbing circles on your clit as you squirmed and thanked him for giving you permission to cum.

As soon as you came down from your high, he pulled you up by your curls and shoved you into the seat to take his position.

“Spread your fucking legs whore, I know it’s what you do best.”

Who were you to disobey your God? You spread your legs for him, each hanging over the arm of the chair and he watched in awe as your fluids glistened on your pussy, leaking to your asshole and your thigh highs smeared.

His hand slipped around your throat and he thrusted into you harshly, giving you no time to adjust to his size in this new position. You cried out, struggling to breathe and take his assault on you.

“Shut the fuck up, this is what you wanted, you’re an object and a whore, so you will be treated as such,” he groaned, squeezing your throat tighter.

You wanted to be obedient and so, you spread your legs even wider, giving him free rein to tear your pussy apart.

“T-thank you Father, thank you for fucking me,” you stammered.

He moaned, watching his thick cock disappear inside you and seeing the outline of himself moving in your belly.

“Only your God can be this deep inside you, slut,” he laughed in mockery.

He pressed his forehead against yours, your breaths mingling as he pounded into you harshly. The sound of shameless skin slapping filled the church and you could already feel the coil in your abdomen tighten.

“Shit, I can feel your wet pussy tightening around me, beg me to cum,” he muttered, still fucking into you, “beg your God to cum.”

“Please daddy, please God, I just want to be a good slut for you, please let me cum,” you begged, your eyes pleading.

He slapped the heavy tip on your clit and that was all it took for your juices to begin squirting all over him as your orgasm came down upon you. Your pussy twitched and he leaned down, sucking as you squirted then squeezed your jaw open to spit it into your mouth.

“Swallow it like a good slut.” You did as you were instructed to then stuck out your tongue, revealing to Charlie that you could be an obedient servant for him.

His hand was tangled in your curls again as he dragged you, pulling you off the chair and taking your position.

“Ride me. Ride my cock and show me how much you worship me,” he demanded.

Eager to please, you straddled him, making sure your legs were on either side of the chair, your heels clinking against it as you left your pussy at the mercy of his cock.

His hand snaked around your throat, gripping harshly as you slowly sank onto him. The new position made you feel as though he would rip you apart but you dared not to say anything. You just wanted to show him how obedient you could be to your God.

You lifted your body, gliding roughly up and down his cock while he thrusted up into you, increasing your pleasure.

“I love your cock, oh God, I love it so much, it’s so perfect, you’re so perfect,” you whimpered, as he continuously slammed into your cervix and the sweet spot inside you all at once.

“That’s it bitch, I’m your perfect God, all for you to worship and be used by.”

Your head fell forward on his shoulder, your pussy still grinding and bouncing on him but he pushed you back and slapped you hard across the cheek.

“You’re going to look at your God while he fucks you, keep your fucking head up,” he growled.

“Yes daddy, anything for you,” you croaked out.

Your heart and pussy fluttered as he smiled at you, his rough pace not faltering as he met your bounces with harsh thrusts. With his hand still around your neck, he leaned down, swirling his tongue around your hardened nipples. You arched into him, grinding on his cock and giving your clit the attention it ached for as he continued increasing your pleasure.

You could feel how Charlie throbbed and twitched inside you, he was just as close as you were.

“Daddy, please cum with me, please breed me,” you begged, “let’s make the anti-christ.”

Charlie’s jaw fell agape at your filthy words, breathy moans leaving his lips and he pounded into you hard, chasing his orgasm.

Your pace faltered but his didn’t and you cried out as you pussy creamed and squirted all over his cock. His orgasm followed and he held you down onto him, ropes of his warm load spurting deep inside you, surely to impregnate you and create the anti-christ you so desperately wanted to mother.

His forehead pressed against yours and you stared into each other’s eyes as you came.

“Thank you Father, thank you God for using me.”

[tetzoro]

corrupted priest!crocodile who takes an interest in you the moment you walk through the cathedral doors, a saintly vision of purity that has his cock twitching in interest already.

the innocent, doe look in your eye was almost too good to be true. he’s never met someone so shy, so willing for guidance.

it was almost too easy to get you to kneel before him. after a few sessions in the confessional booth, he summons you to his office in hopes of helping you with addressing the urges you had been telling him about.

how you cling to sheets at night, writhing in pain as you yearn for pleasure — the pleasure of a man who isn’t your god. the one that would be close enough though, who will guide you in his name.

at least that’s how crocodile spins in, his deep, authoritative voice telling you that it’s okay to engage in these acts with him because he’s a disciple of god and of course that makes him trustworthy.

it’s how you find yourself on your knees, mouth full of his cock as he repeats bible verses to you, slowly pushing your head down further after he finishes each one.

even though your drooling all over him, gagging with each inch he shoves down your throat, it’s all in the name of god — you must repent for those vile thoughts you confessed to him only moments ago.

and when he cums, your mouth hanging open for him, tongue lolling out as your whispered prayers roll off of it, he baptizes you in a flood of his cum, washing over so you can begin again. as his.

amen.

[zeldaseyebrows]

The next chapter of Sacrilege and Sororities is out!

Thank you all for your patience after the 84,000 year pause. In this chapter, there's a fancy ball, action (of all kinds), and lots of lore about Link's embarrassing past. Hope you enjoy if you read it!

[kabr0ztrousers]

Kabr0z Writes Episode 23: The Ritual, Part 2

Find the rest of the anthology here! And Part 1 here!

CWs: kidnapping; dubcon; noncon; group sex; blood; religious themes; major character death; ritual sacrifice; the afterlife;

A/N: the request was to have the demon marry the reader for part 3, that either means I have to bring to demon to her, or her to the demon. Don't worry, she gets better

######################################

You struggled against the hand on your face, more were grabbing you, dragging you off the street. They pulled you, kicking and struggling through the churchyard and into the chapel.

They pushed you onto the altar and started tearing off your dress. Six men in robes, hoods drawn over their faces. You thought you recognised one even with his face obscured, the pastor? That would explain how they got in here, and why they didn't seem worried about getting caught.

You lay there, pinned down by three pairs of hands while a fourth and fifth secured manacles around your limbs. The chains clanked and scraped against the rough stone, but held.

"Prepare her" That was definitely the pastor's voice. That bastard had always had it out for you.

The men started rubbing you down with an acrid-smelling oil, covering every inch of your bare skin. They were incredibly thorough, making sure to coat every part of you. The sensation of them rubbing against your tits and your pussy caused you to flush, still leaking cum from the earlier debauchery. Once the cultists had finished oiling your body the pastor pulled out a long curved dagger, the silver blade decorated with rubies, glinting in the candlelight.

White hot pain filled your head as he started carving designs into your skin, a collection of runes and glyphs, taking extra care on your belly and your chest, painstaking cutting a delicately patterned filigree into you. At last he finished, blood seeping from the designs you were now marked with.

"Now, partake in the sacrament, for L'Saat"

The pastor took out his cock, already fully hard, and stuffed it into your pussy. The combination of ritual oils, the cum from the bar, and the wetness from being prepared easily allowed him in. The other men stood back, watching their leader fuck you over the altar until with a grunt he withdrew. His cum sprayed over you, mingling with the blood on your belly as it hit you. The next cultist was just as eager, thrusting into you and toying with your clit. You whined in pain and pleasure as you came under him before he too pulled out, rushing over to your face to cum over it, the liquid stinging your eyes a little as it got in them. The next was already in you, pumping away, groping your tits and driving himself deep inside you. Over and over the cultists fucked you, each one pulling out and covering you with their seed.

You could see daylight from the stained glass windows before they stopped. The pastor pulled out the same curve-bladed dagger, stained with your blood and flashing cruelly in the early morning light.

The dagger plunged into you

The world went quiet. Then dark

Your eyes snap open. You're in a dress. You hear a voice

"Do you take L'Saat as your lawfully wedded husband?"

"I do" You answered without thinking

"Then I pronounce you married, forevermore. You may kiss the bride"

What the fuck?

[ficandkaboodle]

Been sittin on this for a while

[thehistorykev]

ok ok, what if we made a fanfic about kevin priest and twinyards demons? what would we do? I'm thirsty for it!

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Posting Update!!

The Vessel fic is done I just need to edit it!!!!!! Also on the cusp of being finished if I can make myself focus for more than 5 seconds...

Troubled Waters (Iceburg x Fem! Reader) FLUFF/SMUT - I just need to write the smut, which shouldn't be to difficult (that strange man is fine as hell I want to climb him like a tree).

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) pt. 10 - inspiration has struck! Production on this chapter has increased by 20%, and I'm a little over half way. All I would like to say about this update is I hope you're ready for more farmer IV.

The Baptism (Charles Greywolf x Fem! Reader) SMUT - Part 3 of The Sacrilege Series! I just need to write the smut, the set up is there, I'm just having some trouble with the flow.

Sacrament of The Night pt 1. - Terrified about posting this not gunna lie, the chapter is about half way done, we're meeting Isabella this chapter and getting a feel for the Village she's going to be spending her time studying in. This one will be out relatively soon, just... Nervous, nervous, nervous

Untitled Dave Miller Smut - Just need to write the smut, Dave's creepy and grungly enough straight from my brain

[beetlethebug]

Yes to the praise kink fic but also the degradation fic????? Like why didn’t I think of that?! He would love it so much, almost ashamed of it?? 👀

YEAH!!! in one of my current fics my rook is teasing him for being a dirty old man and it's very fun. in one of my more um...questionable? wip? i have my rook roleplaying as an elven god and emmrich is a mortal seeking a blessing? so there's lots of digs at how he's simply a mortal and how could he expect to be worthy of even being within the company of a god etc. i think the digs on his mortality are very nice and i'm excited to like. double down and write more for it.

[zeldaseyebrows]

WIP Ask Game

Thank you @sparklyhyperbole and @raurusthirdeye for tagging me! I have too many WIPs, so I'll do the ones I'm actively working right now:

Sacrilege and Sororities Chapter 16: Oh Balls (New Year, New Me)

Link meets their eyes, one by one. "I need to know that you are all who you say you are. Tell me something only you would know."  Sir Xavier answers with a straight face, “Your security answer to the question 'What is your favorite food to eat?' has always been 'p***y.'” Link breathes in through his nose.

2. Ganondorf's (Rude) Awakening- The Roommate AU. Modern!AU Link and Ganon are forced to be roommates. It doesn't end well.

“I just happened to notice that there’s been a lot of hair in the shower drain recently,” Ganondorf said, spinning his lunch salad in the spinner with perhaps more violence than usual. “Hm.” Link shrugged and popped another pizza roll into his mouth. “Maybe I’m shedding.” “I’m not sure it’s all yours. Has your friend been taking showers here?” “You mean Zelda? I’m sure it’s not her.” Ganondorf’s fingers tightened and clenched on the spinner handle. In front of him, the salad appeared ready to fly away and take off into geosynchronous orbit. “The extra hair is blonde. And long,” Ganondorf gritted out. Link raised an eyebrow and gestured to his own hair.

Also wanted to give everyone an update that I am working very hard to have the next chapter of Sacrilege and Sororities done asap!! It has not been forgotten or abandoned. I've just been disgustingly busy and I don't write linearly. And this is the writer type that I am, so take that as you will about my ridiculous method of writing long form content haha (thank you @linksthoughtbrambles and @bahbahhh for tagging me!)

And if anyone would like to do this meme, please consider yourself tagged! I'd love to read about your WIPS!

[frostbeees]

volume goes with the truth

pairing: w.smith/r.leonard, w.smith/r.leonard/m.celebrini word count: 4100 summary: Mack was just looking for a quiet place to clear his head. or: the confessional fic

[revenantghost]

i just want to say thank you for your Trigun Twangyhop playlist, it's my go-to writing music right now and it's so much fun!

Oh man, you're welcome!!! It's so funny because I didn't even see this ask until rn, and over the past few days I have been going feral adding songs to this playlist instead of focusing on stress, and it went from like, uh. One hour or so long to like? Um??? FIVE HOURS????? But I'm honestly really happy that anyone out there's enjoying it! <3

If folks out there have got no idea what I'm talking about and are curious:

[stellewriites]

Skittering into your inbox to ask a Very Important question about butch!Soap.

In terms of her experience with religion, where do you want her character to go? Because seeing your anon ask from the other day, and the convo we had has unlocked several ideas within me (and yes, I am projecting as a queer religious person).

Soap (not sure what the 'girl' variation of her name would be, so I'm just gonna stick with Soap/Johnny cuz why not) who grows up looking forward to Sunday mass with her family. Hates the itchy, puffy dresses something fierce, but the cadence of the hymns and the smell of incense and the ritual of it all calms her.

Soap who, upon realizing her adoration for women has gone beyond the platonic, finds herself dreading Sundays. The hymns sound louder, seem to make her ears ring. The incense, once comforting, now closes her throat. More than once does she excuse herself to the bathroom, coughing and choking on seemingly nothing.

Soap who finds herself in a weird place. Torn between two worlds, she wonders if she'll ever be able to return to the faith of her youth.

Soap who still wears the rosary her mother gifted her. Who still prays before going on missions. Who still recites the rosary while thumbing through the beads before she sleeps.

Soap who still feels a connection to the Divine despite it all.

These are just my lil thoughts, please feel free to add your own! Idk where you want to take her character, but that's completely your business!

birdy it’s like our brains are connected when it comes to these girls i’m so serious

(to answer ur question in this one her friends call her johnny as her preferred name/nickname, but her family call her johanna even tho she’s not keen)

ok so!! just a huge hell yes to Everything you said,, i’m writing this one with the mindset that she’s moved away from her family, lost the habit and a lot of the love of going each sunday. mourns the comfort and familiarity of it tho.

maybe she sticks to going during the holidays or pays a random visit during the year if she’s scraped too close to death at work, but for the most part her main connection is the cross she wears around her neck and the rosary beads she keeps in her bedside drawer - i was originally thinking of the cross being an heirloom, but after reading yours i like the idea of it being a gift and the rosary beads having been handed down from her gran.

she’d go more often but the scant looks she’s gotten from the few people there when she walks in - messy mullethawk, grafted trousers, nipple piercings visible through her shirt - had gotten to her more than she’d like to admit. whether she’s imagining their scorn or not is up to the reader; whether she’s trying to find excuses not to go to save herself from living the rejection she felt growing up and realising she liked women a second time over.

i like the idea of her keeping some of it in her day to day like you said; prayers on an evening or on a mission or over a good meal, i’d think she’s pretty open to admitting when she’s wrong and apologising to her close ones after going to confession as a teen too. small things that helped form her decisions.

cw: sacrilegious themes, using johnny’s faith as dirty talk

buuttttttt i also think her lack of traditional connection to her faith and her mixed feelings/two sides pulling at her means she plays a little fast and loose with it too - finds it hot when her partner talks dirty and brings up religion when they’re fucking. masochist to the bone, she enjoys the bit of guilt she feels in the pit of her stomach just as she’s about to cum

[bodeyeen2132]

TFW your teacher is teaching your class about the early puritans and Christian’s and witch-hunts but your reading a humanxdemon smut

[carebeardean]

1x06 + lyrics

/ fascination by tamino / one by U2 / first disciple by tamino / stuck in a moment by U2 / small hands by radical face / miracle drug by U2

[watchingblsnowandforever]

i discovered the AO3 Problem early in the evening.

Now you tell me how I'm supposed to sleep without my extremely fluffy romantic lore of one of my favorite ships. How??

[alrightbuckaroo]

hello ada!!

⚠️🖊️🌎 for the wip game!

Hi Lola!

⚠️Which wip your most likely to finish or update next?

Next up is chapter two of the time loop au! It's coming next Tuesday and it's where the story really starts to pick up (basically Carlos' starts to realizes something's off lmao)

In regards to unpublished, the sequel to summer slipped us is next and then on deck is my personal favorite the Old West AU (my beloved)

🖍Post Any sentence from your wip

As I know you like the Old West AU, I offer you this:

Nancy adjusts her fascinator and undoes the top two buttons of her blouse. “Gentlemen,” Her smile is saccharine and secure. “Let’s go rob us a bank.”

🌍What tags or warnings will your / one of your wip(s) need if you intend to share it?

I did not plan to make this all about the Old West AU lol but it might have graphic descriptions of violence simply due to gunshot wounds, minor character deaths, things of that nature.

That said, in regards to tag, Religious Imagery is probably going to be the third one LOL

ask me about wips!