#abell x john

[soft-persephone]

I Will Be Your End pt. 1

Vampire!Fontaine x Vampire!Black!Reader x Vampire!Abel Morales // John Boyega x Black!Reader x Oscar Isaac

Explicit // WC: 9.5k // warnings: blood, descriptions of corpses, mild body mutilation, death, violence, mild abuse, horror, smut // masterlist // Part 2 //

music: Good People / by Majid Jordan

AN: Biggest shoutout to @megamindsecretlair her Vampire Tyrone fics have required my brain chemistry and changed my life! She is the biggest inspiration behind this fic so if you even slightly enjoy this one, go check out theirs! It’s truly beautiful!

Apparently it’s too long to make into one fic, so I will wait until next week to post pt2

I hope you enjoy!!

-

Where the fuck she at?”

Fontaine threw a chair and Yo-yo ducked, it smattered into pieces upon impact. Not satisfied, he flipped the coffee table and attempted to kick a hole in the couch, but she stopped that shit quick.

“Taine, Nock it the fuck off! I know you mad and all, but we still live here, and we ain’t got nowhere else to go!”

His breaths were rabid and heavy. His eyes glowing hard.

“Where. The fuck. Is. She?” He huffed.

Yo-yo licked her lips.

“It’s bad, real bad. You need to get to her fast,” he opened his mouth, probably to ask her the same fucking question again, but she stopped him with a raised hand, daring him to say something, “I tracked her like you told me, but she’s smart.. real smart.”

“That ain’t nothing we don’t already know. Yo-—“

“—interrupt me one more time.”

He sighed, shaking his head before sitting.

Good, God… finally.

“So boom!” She smacked her fist unity the palm of her other hand. “She only stops to feed in small towns, usually a racist or someone who tried to put his hands on her or other woman, all untraceable to the cops n’ shit.”

His face goes blank. The attitude he once had gone. She cohdi feel the power radiating off of him in waves.

He’s putting the pieces together.

“She’s in New York.” Her lips formed into a line, waiting for his response.

“How many body’s?”

“It’s more than 50.”

Fuck.

Tyrone knew she’d be pissed with him for the first few years, but not like this.

He didn’t think she’d actually run away from him.

He looked at the antique book he brought you.

What is was about, he didn’t have fucking clue. This was a book published before summaries on the back were a thing. It was so old it barely had a title.

You loved reading, like Yo-yo, and history and shit.

It was the perfect gift.

But now.. he might not even get the chance to give it to you.

“Call Slick.”

-

“Are you alright little one?” A voice from somewhere asked you.

It was so rich. He kept talking and talking.

You hummed.

He should talk more.

You could barely feel the blood covering your body. The fresh dark flood of it was dripping from your mouth. Falling down a similar path as the last stickier dried up drops.

You looked up and saw his glowing eyes.

They were golden, but not like the harsh metallic gold that matched Fintaine’s grills. They were an old gold like the moon. An old golden hued moon that connected every ancient moment to the present. Witnessing the tragedy that had befallen what used to be her life that had now become the eternal damnation she didn’t deserve…. That she didn’t ask for.

You might hate Fontaine and what he did to you, but you weren’t stupid.

Vampires don’t pop up out of nowhere and for no reason.

Fear clings to you, but you fight it back down your throat, swallowing it before licking your lips.

“I’m.. I'm sorry,” you started. Your voice sounded foreign to you. It was hoarse, croaky, and broken, “I don’t know all the rules to everything. I won’t make any trouble.” Your heart sank, “I just needed to rest for a moment. I can le—“

“Nonsense.” He doesn’t raise his voice or yell. It was just as rich and calm as the first time you heard it. You lick your lips once more. “What makes you think I want you to leave?”

His mouth wasn’t moving…

“Maybe I saw someone in distress and wanted to help.” He was smiling now. It was poised and polite.

If you didn’t know any better, right now felt like meeting a person on any other day. Like taking a stroll on a random day, in the daylight. Just like you used to.

You’d be walking towards campus for class only to bump into a handsome mysterious stranger, he’d be nice and help you up. Insisting he won’t leave until he knows you're alright. He takes you to lunch.

Leading you to no longer care how late you would be to class, just wishing the day won’t end, so your new found stranger wouldn’t leave you.

Were you in distress?

You won’t play the fool and deny it. But you didn’t like the sound of it either. You didn’t know this stranger. Only his voice in your head and his old eyes.

What do you do now?

Barely blinking, he was closer to you.

You registered the fact that you were sitting on the ground. Your legs curled up, bending at the knee and strown casually to your side. A body strown on the opposite side of you. Brutally mutilated beyond recognition, his chest split in the center, his flesh and guts spilling out like a wild animal taken down by a predator.

He kneeled behind you, holding your back to his chest with one hand as he caressed your cheek with the other.

“Did you do this?” He asked aloud, the breath of his voice falling softly on your forehead, tickling gently at your eyelashes.

His eyes were even prettier up close.

He was prettier than Fontaine.

You cursed whatever foreign power within you that led you to think of him, even now.

“No….” You answered, your voice still hoarse, “It was a werewolf.”

He pulled you tighter against him. Firmly, but gently holding your head to the side by a handful of your hair.

His mouth danced softly on the skin of your jaw to your neck. Worshiping the area with such devotion, it felt sinful. It felt wrong. It felt worse than the curse of being a monster forever.

His teeth sank into your flesh, filling you with as much bliss as he was taking, he wanted to be full of nothing but you. He wanted to consume you.

“Who do you belong to?” You heard his warm amber voice in your head.

“No one.” You silently answered back.

—

It’s been weeks, Slick.”

“I said I wasn’t no miracle worker,” Charles huffed. “I said, I’d see what I could do and as we seeing, it ain’t a whole lot.”

“Fontaine kicked his chair behind him as he stood up and Yo-yo stepped between him.

“Uh-uh, none of that! You remember what happened last time you killed a witch?” She hissed. “Your not putting me through that again, Nigga! I won’t let you!”

Fontaine smacked his teeth before turning around towards the window.

“You sure you can’t feel her?” He placed his hand under his shirt one more time before reaching out into the bond. He didn’t need to touch his chest in any way when reaching out to feel you in the bond that made you all a clan. It was more to calm himself down.

“Nothing.” Yo-yo sighed.

He had everyone in their clan reaching out in the bond daily to feel you, for someone to be able to either feel your emotions, dream about you, or see visions on where you were or what you might be doing.

And it was all failing.

Your connection was growing weaker to everyone everyday.

The only thing your bond was putting out was an insane amount of power. It could knock out weaker members into walls or send them flying if they touched it. For someone of your status, it shouldn’t be possible.

The only times vampires tell stories of fledglings growing insanely strong in a short amount of time was before they tried to overthrow clans from their masters, usurping the line before executing them in front of everyone.

What Fontaine did after he was turned…

“At least she stopped feeding everyday all the time.”

“But she’s been learning things.”

Fontaine’s eyebrows rose together in confusion.

“What you mean? How can you tell?”

“I don’t know.. I just can.” She shook her head with a heavy emotion everyone in the clan was starting to feel. “Something’s different about her. I felt this new person in the clan and I know you haven’t turned anyone since her.”

“She’s in the middle!” Slick slammed his hand on the table. “That’s why I say give me all the details! Every single time!” He shook his head. “ there wouldn’t been no need, to pull out my whole crystal ball and shit!”

“Will you quit whining!” Fontaine huffed, “and can someone tell me what the fuck is going on?”

“Yo-yo said she feels a new energy in the bond she can’t explain.” Slick fiddled with the hem of his sleeves, “that means she’s found someone else to pledge allegiance to.”

The air went cold.

Fontaine usually has a better grip on his influence and how it can affect the air around him, but when he was upset it came off fast and hard, filling up the room with fear and trepidation that only made it worse.

“No.” He shook his head. “That’s not it.”

“Fontaine, calm down. No one’s saying she betrayed you. We’re just weighing all the possibilities th—“

“I said, no.”

The intonation of his voice changed to something dark and layered with a power that made Yo-yo and slick unwilling still and stop talking.

“She would never.” Fontaine punched the wall.

“She would never drink another vampire's blood.”

—

Abel, cupped water into his hands and poured it over your shoulders, letting it cascade down your chest and your back. The water was scalding, but his hands were warmer.

His hands were gliding over your skin as if he were attempting to create you himself, or he was worshiping the expanse of your skin. Comiting every curve, bump, stretch mark, and stray mole into his memory. Basking at the feel of you and cherishing each millisecond in fear he wouldn't get another chance.

“What.. happened to me?” You asked, “every moment before now feels like a hazy fever or dream I can barely remember.”

“Bloodlust.”

“Bloodlust? I went on some crazy murder spree?!”

“No,” he smiled at your shock and you somewhat relaxed. Still not liking what had become of view, “you drank quite a large amount of blood in a short amount of time, and instinctively once you're in that state your body will only crave more and more in want of being more powerful.”

“I don’t wish to be more powerful. I don’t wish to be anything.”

Abel frowned at you, but ignored your statement.

You were a little disappointed, but you understood.

You didn’t have any friends to confide in anymore, no one to share your experience of existence with. You had no connection with anything anymore, human or creature, nothing else made you feel like more of a monster than that.

“How do you feel?”

“Better, I suppose.”

“No,” he tsked at you, “how do you feel?” His eyes flashed down at you, and you felt his energy quickly fill the room washing over you in a cocoon of warmth, rivaling the bath water.

You sighed.

There’s nothing more you hated then actively practicing and learning about what you now were.

At least, that’s how it was with Fontaine.

You reached deep within yourself. At your spirit or aura.. perhaps something deep within your mind until you felt this new magical essence that now lived within you.

It was bigger, louder.. but it still bore no color.

“I think I’m stronger in some way, but I still don’t know what color I’m supposed to see.”

“You are,” he gently grasped at your sides and lifted you up out of the water, immediately ushering you into a towel, “much stronger that is.” He patted your skin dry , before grabbing a glass jar with oil in it.

“Smell.” He lifted it to your nose.

“Hmmm.” It was a warm boozy vanilla with a hint of something spicy. “I like it.”

“Me too.”

The silence was comforting as you let him cover you with the oil and knead it into your skin.

You can’t remember the last time you had felt so at ease.

He gave you a white sweater that had to be one of his and wrapped you in a blanket as you laid on your side next to him.

He kept his hands to himself and you hated it.

You longed to curl up closer into him and let him absentmindedly play with the locs of your hair. Much longer now that they’ve grown since you’ve died. With plenty of time spent avoiding Fontaine in isolation from him and his goonies, you learned to retwist them yourself.

“How were you turned?” He looked at you with such somber eyes. They were brown just as Fontaine’s but they were much much warmer. Soft things they were, almost wet.

Was she such a sad site? Did he pity her that much?

Was she something to be pitied?

“I’m not sure. I woke up like this one morning in a random bed away from my home and my family.”

His face scrunched together, not just in confusion but sadness.

“No,” he paused, searching for the right words.”Did you consent?”

“What?” You were offended.

Who would ask for this? Only a psychopath would ask for something like this.

“No!” You both winced at how harsh you sounded.

“I did.” He gazed into the distance, looking more somber.

“Why?” You hope you didn’t sound as in disbelief and rude as you felt.

“My… my wife was turned by some random vampire, and once she finally put the pieces together and figured out what happened to her and by whom, she told me, and I asked her to turn me.”

“Oh.”

“Once she did,” he glared at the wall, …

“I had a vision. A plan for our future. . . our family,” he quickly smiled before his face fell into something dark you couldn’t describe. “Generational wealth.” He turned to you with an indescribably smile. His teeth flashed, charmingly so, but his eyes were something else that did not match, “but this. I couldn’t even imagine anything like this getting in my way. Our way.”

“What happened to her?”

“She.. passed.” He lifted his hand to brush your cheek. “She wanted to, and I didn’t hold it against her. We’d been alive for so long.”

“Why didn’t you. . . pass with her?”

“You ask so many questions.”

Had you been alive you swore your face would have burned.

You averted your gaze and focused on his hand on your face.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s endearing,” he pulled you closer, nestling his head on top of yours. You now felt embarrassed for an entirely different reason. “It makes you seem so.. human.”

You sobbed.

“I didn’t ask for this. Any of it.”

“I know,” he placed his hand on the back of your head, suffocating you against his chest and you welcomed it. “I know.”

You will yourself to stop crying. You were done crying.

“I’m sorry this happened to you. When someone is turned it must be with consent. It’s a relationship built on trust. Without it, the bond between master and fledgling is painful for everyone involved

“I have no master!” You argued. “Fontaine.. doesn’t do that.”

“Then how does it work between him and everyone he’s turned.”

You sighed.

“I.. don’t really know. He and everyone in town was somehow turned by this old vampire and he compelled everyone to forget it and to be his slaves or test puppets or something,” you squeezed Abel’s back, holding him closer to you, burying your face drier into his chest, “Fontaine killed him even though he was begged not to, and somehow, they All lived and he was the new leader.”

Abel froze and you looked up at him.

“Is that bad?”

“N.. no.” He pursed his lips. “It’s just unheard of, impossible even.”

He pulled back from you for just a second, looking into your eyes. He moved his hand from your back to the temple of your forehead.

He was looking into your mind.

Fontaine used to try it all the time and you always forced him out somehow.

When he was done he held you even tighter than before. Staying silent.

You thought perhaps he was done talking and just wanted to spend time tucked against you, deciding to sleep and talk about the rest of it in the morning, but you felt his tears fall into your hairline.

You forgot just how horrific what happened to you was. You didn’t always hate him, but now you do. Not just him, but how you used to feel about him.

You’ll never forget that night, and you’ll never forgive him for what he did to you.

Another person, well, vampire, had experienced the story of how you came to die, and they wept just like you did.

You pushed your feelings deep down into the colorless energy within as you’ve always done, and you willed yourself to sleep, wishing for the chance to make Fontaine hurt as you now did.

“Uhoh, someone’s getting a little too turnt!”

“Leave me alone!” You laughed at your friend. “Finals are over, and I can now let loose!”

You might take school a little too seriously, but you came from a home where education was what saved your parents from poverty and they passed that same lesson on to you.

It might be strict to some, but as you grew older you only grew to believe it just as much as your parents.

You wouldn’t have anything if this school shit didn’t work.

You weren’t raised to hustle, you were raised to study, so that’s what you did.

But now it was time to party!

You didn’t always go out with your friends, so the nights you did, were always special. Your favorite food and drinks were always there when you were, and all your favorite people.

Usually you were really shy and reserved, but one or two drinks and the edge is off! You can let loose and maybe even dance. Who cares what anyone else thinks? You're having fun with the people you love and the people that love you!

You're making memories and forming your circle. You dreamed of the big fancy job you’d get one day to finally be able to take care of yourself and live in your own place!

“Uhhh.” Your friend called your name with a badly contained smile.

“Yeah?” You smiled back.

She smirked and then threw her arms around you with a laugh.

“Omg, what is it? Just spit it out already,” you laughed back.

“What would you say, if I told you there’s a guy here with a crush on you?” You blinked.

A crush? On you?

You believed you were pretty. You weren’t that insecure in yourself, people just tend to make it very clear that you aren’t their type.

But this was new!

Your stomach fluttered at the possibility.

“I don’t know!” You laughed again. “But whatever happens, happens!”

Your friend squeaked again and wrapped her arms around you once more.

She was so drunk. You smiled.

“Do you mind if I sit?”

You looked up to see cool dark skin, and a yellow gold smirk of a smile looking down at you.

“No, it’s okay.” You politely smiled back.

He was everything.

He liked that you listened. That you didn’t judge him off his looks.You like that he didn’t assume you were stuck up just because of how shy and introverted you could be.

Conversation was easy. Blissfully easy.

You both probably talked about anything and everything. The big personal life stuff to every miniscule thought and hobby.

He’d never seen Star Wars before.

You are a basic gym person at best.

Some music you both liked, some music he liked you never heard of and vice versa.

“How come you're not scared?”

“Scared of what?” You almost wanted to laugh but you held it in. You weren’t sure how he’d react if you did.

“Of me, or like,” he smacked his teeth, “you don’t act weird and stuff when I talk about what trips me up as a drug dealer or get that silent judgy look. People think that by not saying anything they're being polite, but they don’t know it shows on their face.”

“I don’t judge people based on their life or choices. Just by what’s on the inside. Not everyone has the same chances or choices. We’re all just trying to make it. No matter where we start in life, it’s all toward the same thing.” You stopped and pondered for a bit, searching for the right words. “It’s the government and shit they’ve gotten away with they have us all over the place. Until we can change the system or something like that. . . and yeah.” You ended dumbly.

“Yeah?” Fontaine was practically cackling at you. He laughed loudly. The sound coming from his belly, his low baritone sounds of joy flooded your senses. His yellow gold grillz shining in the low light of the room.

“Just, yeah.”

“Well excuse me for not being able to break down capitalism and its effects on the wealth gap and disparity in America and how it relates to race in one sentence. I've done it enough in school. Which is over now, and I'm tryna take a break from it all.”

You’d never felt so seen, so understood. You could see yourself in him, and he saw himself in you. You both had completely different lives, you had different ideas for almost everything except where it counts. Aside from the basic black experience and the trauma associated with that, or little quirks and social similarities they’ve grown fond of as a collective. There was something more.

A genuineness. A mirroring of the part of yourself that you couldn’t put into words. Tyrone was your person.

That’s why it was so easy to let him take you upstairs. To let his hands roam across the expense of your skin. His mouth was so warm. He lathes at your neck. Dragging his mouth down towards your chest. He sucks hard at your breast until your panting and writhing. He moves towards the next one, doing the same.

You can’t tell where your body ends or his mouth begins.

“You like that?” He looked down at you with half a pearly white smirk. When did he take his grills off? You didn’t know.

He was so calming. He crashed into you like a wave. When you first met on that couch you could feel him pulling you in towards him. The waters of his soul were cool and tranquil, and you’d happily float in the body of it all night. Now as things grew more intense as he mouthed at you, and you clutched at him just as desperately.

“Fontaine.” You moaned his name like a prayer.

He responded with a similar prayer of your name on his lips.

You were drowning in him. The wave of his entire being crashed against you, suffocating you as it flooded over and over your head until you were so far gone underneath the very waters of his essence, of him, you couldn’t breath.

“Who knew such a fat pussy could be so tight?” He lapped and lathed at your skin.

The slow growing ache within you was getting stronger and stronger. Your own desire was eating you alive, burning and festering within you. It was too much. Everything felt so good it hurt, so when he decided to bite down into your flesh, everything within you seized. Tightening in response, screaming for more.

“You like that,” he praised slowly into your neck, “i’an know you was like that.”

He pushed your legs up by your thighs. His hand sliding along your skin as if he was remolding you, reshaping you in his image before he destroys you with the very hands he pulled you out of the dirt with.

You whined, tears brimming in your eyes, but you couldn’t feel them. Fontain didn’t acknowledge them.

You wanted him to feel good. That’s all you wanted. You wanted to make him feel good so he didn’t leave you.

“—wanna be yours.” You mewled as he sucked harder at your neck once more until you made that sound again. He did it over and over again until you whined and panted for more, and he responded with another bite, much harder this time. His mouth staying on your skin much longer.

Waves and waves of pleasure flooded your senses. You arched your back to chase the feeling of his motuh, pressing yourself into him.

He released you with a wet slurp.

“You’on needa worry ‘bout that.” He pressed his dick against you, letting the head bump against your clit as he slid it along your folds. With each lazy movement your hips chased the feeling of his.

Fontaine responded by pulling his hips back, letting you feel every thick inch as he slowly pulled back until only the tip was inside of you before thrusting back into you. He set a slow enduring pace. Each heavy thrust of his hips caused a moan to fall from your lips.

He was branding you. With every thrust of his body into yours, with his hands on your body, with his mouth biting into your flesh. The sounds of his mouth on you matched the wet sounds of his slips slamming into yours.

He wasn’t just consuming you, burning you, he was molding you. Reshaping you not only into a new being but combining your souls. Molting them into one another, you didn’t know where he began and you ended, and you wanted more. No, you needed more. You needed him. You wanted to live for him. Exist only for him.

So you chased every feeling of his body, matching each and every movement of his hips, arched your back further to get that much closer.

It was a night you never forgot. A night you couldn’t forget. Each moment of bliss was now remembered with a matching thought of pain. With every new height of pleasure you didn’t know was humanly possible was now replaced with the thought that every single peak you reached was one step away from your life, your family, and what you used to be at your very core.

A robbery of your humanity.

But you didn’t know that when you woke up in a bed that wasn’t yours. Your phone nowhere to be found.

You were scared and alone.

But you remembered your night with Fontaine.

He took you away from everything, and you didn’t even get the chance to confront him about it while you threw up day and night. While you tossed and turned every waking moment with a headache that wouldn’t go away. While your stomach started to gnaw at your flesh from the inside out caving in on itself. You were hot and cold at the same time and always sweating. Everything started to blur and the sun hurt.

It didn’t help that the room was full of windows.

You had to resort to burying yourself in a hoard of blankets.

But when the moon rose high, you took your chance.

In your feeble weak state, you managed to travel around the foreign town you learned was called the Glenn. Hundred and thousands of miles away from your home.

You managed to find someone nice enough to talk to you.

“You a’right? You need to sit down? You wanta glass a’ water?”

“Please.” Your voice was horse and meak. You didn’t want to be so trusting of all these people you didn’t know, but they had to be better than Fontain or whoever the fuck he was.

You cleared your throat.

“Can I borrow your phone?”

You looked at the date, it could not be right. A chill ran down your spine and filled your entire body.

It’s been 10 years.

You couldn’t have been asleep for ten years! Were you somehow drugged out of your mind? Is that how? What has that sick fuck been doing to your body while you’ve been out of conscience for ten fucking years.

Fear and bile rose in your body and you threw up.

“Aye what the fuck!” You didn’t see what happened next as black clouded the corners of your vision and the world went dark.

However, you were still there.

And in a bath of darkness you focused on your grief and your anger.

You don’t know what has happened to you, but you do know one thing. Fontaine was going to die by your hands, and that thought of comfort let you slip into your first slumber of peace.

-

Yoyo treaded lightly around the corner. She stood still not to draw attention to herself. She watched as the slick black ornate car pulled up to the side of the restaurant. She watched as a man with heavily styled black hair and tan skin stepped out and handed off his keys. Impeccably dressed with a heavy wool coat too match.

“Shoulda went for a black one. Would have been real fresh too.”

Yo-yo bit the inside of her cheek.

“I mean the taupe beige isn’t that bad of a look. It kinda grows on you the more you look at it. But if he really wanted to ste—“

“Nigga, don’t nobody give a damn about his fucking coat!” She hissed.

Why Fontaine made her bring Slick along, she would never know.

“Slick opened his mouth to say something smart, but Yo-yo quickly cut him off.

“Shut up! There she is!”

They watched as he opened the door to the other side.

You stepped out in a gorgeous silk red number that had a leg slit and a low back. You had a white fur shawl that covered your shoulders. Gold dripping around your neck, ears, and a few of your fingers. There had to be some diamonds sprinkled about somewhere. With that type of money, there had to.

Situation aside, Yo-yo and Slick both let out sounds of approval.

“Shit, if I could get all that, I’d leave Fontaine sorry ass too.” Yo-yo murmured.

“As a man with certain avenues and multitudes, I can not hate another player. If you got it, you got it.”

Slick snapped his fingers, the rings on his hands clacking annoyingly so, and their clothes changed.

“What the fuck am I wearing?”

“What are you complaining for? He smacked his teeth. That’s what you usually wear.”

Yo-yo would have appreciated the little yellow thing she wore anywhere else, but not now.

“You saw what they were wearing! This place is classy! It’s nice as shit and they are not about to let a couple of raggedy asses in looking like this.”

“You see that’s your problem!” He raised a finger and Yo-yo had to interrupt him.

“Nigga, I know you not putting a finger in my face!”

“Will you calm yo’ ass down! All I’m tryna say is,” he dusted off his clothes, letting a harsh breath through his nose, “Fontaine made me come with you for a reason. It don’t matter what we wear, I can get us in.”

“Mhmm, you better.”

“Abel.” You warily said his name.

He guided you through a crowd with a hand tentatively placed on your lower back. Plush and luxurious with low thundering music. People were everywhere. But if you really focused and stilled your mind a bit, you could tell who was a vampire, and there were many, and who was not.

Abel was about to answer you, but a young light skinned man had interrupted the steady pace Abel and you were making through the crowd.

“H-hi.” He said softly and sweetly before cupping your face with a hand. He had to be around your age if you were human, boyish features made it too hard to tell, even if he had a beard. Close shaven and shaped well to match his face. . His eyes were a large bright brown as he battered them shyly at you. He had full lips that looked so soft and his lashes were so long.

“Um, hi?” You blinked, not sure what to do. Too many people were crowded around in their own world to care about what was transpiring between you.

You moved his hand from your cheek, and he took it as a sign to move his face closer to yours. You stiled. Even the slightest of movements would have made your lips touch.

“Can you bite me?” His voice was a sultry pant, almost a whine.

Blood rushed through your senses. You noticed it now.

The smell of it in the room. The humans straying around from vampire to vampire.

Something on your face must have changed. Maybe your eyes flashed because his lips parted just a tad more and his eyes almost rolled back.

You leaned in closer, your lips grazing his neck before you felt Abel’s hand slide from your back to your arm, roughly pulling you back.

“She’s on a diet.” He didn’t yell or raise his voice, but his tone was clear cut and dry with plenty of bite.

He raised your hand to reveal the glowing purple glow stick bracelet.

“Oh.” The stranger pouted his lips, causing a rush of something to burn deeply within you, “well,” he fiddled with his fingers, “when you're not on a diet can you come back? I’m here almost every night.”

You turned to Abel, not sure what was happening.

“She’ll think about it.” He patted him on the shoulder before placing his hand at your back once more and led you through the crowd.

Going up steps, he let his hand fall from you, but you couldn’t find it in you to step away from him.

“This is a nightclub for vampires?”

“And humans.” Abel said casually before stopping someone and ordering a few drinks.

“Wristbands are color coded.” He led you to a cornered booth before guiding you in and sliding after you.

“Red for feeding vampires, green for those willing to be bitten, yellow for humans who don’t, and purple for vampires who are on a diet.”

You looked at your purple wristband with a frown. A gnawing sensation swelling within you.

“But I—“

“— have had more than enough.” He sighed as he saw your face fall, “look. Bloodlust is a hard thing to come back from but enough time has passed where you aren’t jumping on any and everything with a pulse.”

You nodded at the reason in his words.

“Who are we here to meet anyway?”

Abel twisted the ring around his finger and crossed one of his legs over the other one.

“The vampire who helped me after me and my wife were turned.”

As the waiter placed down your drinks, a figure appeared out of nowhere. Eerily still and quiet as people bustled to and fro around him. His gaze fixed on you and Abel.

His hollow black eyes reflected the light and surrounding colors in a strange effect you could barely understand. His equally dark and plain clothing was just as off putting.

“He is ready for you.”

Abel took a quick swig of his drink and ushered you out of the booth.

He held you close to him as you both followed the strange man.

“Let me do the talking.” Abel whispered in your ear. “If he tells you to do something, just do it and don’t protest too much.”

You opened your mouth to say something, but Abel rose an eyebrow at you as his mouth twisted into a tight thin line.

“Most importantly,” he whispered in your face as you both climbed the steps to an intricate door to a room that looked over everything, “follow my lead.” His eyes flashed in the familiar old gold you’ve grown comfortable gazing at, but in this moment it made your veins run cold.

“Abel,” a man who looked strangely familiar to him, stood up from behind his desk to dutifully shake Abel’s hand with a formal and polite smile, “it’s been so long. To what do I owe this rare pleasure of a visit from you. Everything is well at the office?”

“Yes, everything is fine, but I have a request to ask of you.”

At that moment, the man looked at you and his eyebrows rose into his hairline.

“I see.” He corrected himself with another polite smile and motioned towards the chairs in front of his desk. “Let’s discuss this in a more comfortable manner.”

He and Abel looked alike, but they couldn’t appear more different.

This man’s hair was much curlier, but does this mean Abel’s hair could be equally as curly?

He was turned much later in life. The evidence in the salt and pepper of his hair and the thick beard that suited his features.

Despite their few differences there was so much they had in common. In the formal attire they both seemed to respect and their equally formal mannerisms, but it was clear this man held some sense of superiority.

Not only in how he moved and acted, but how Abel, the most powerful vampire you had recently met, treaded carefully around this one.

It would have caught you by surprise if you weren’t feeling suffocated by a strange yet powerful aura.

It had to be coming from him.

“Forgive my rudeness, let me introduce myself. I am Duke Leto Atreides although not quite a Duke anymore. That was quite some time ago.”

You cleared your throat and told him your name, introducing yourself just as politely.

“It’s no trouble at all.”

Leto looked at you a moment too long with an odd look, like you had shocked him somehow, before his face fell back into its usual demeanor.

You looked at Abel to see if you had done anything wrong, but he gave you a small nod to reassure you that you had not. However, his face seemed to hold a look of concern or wary at how the Duke was looking at you.

“What is it you came to ask for?” He cleared his throat before turning his attention back towards Abel.

“Well, it’s not so much a favor for me, but for her.” Abel crossed one leg over the other and corgilly clasped his hands together in his lap.

“She’s a fledgling.” He paused, licking his lips and dipping his head down momentarily. His eyes briefly glowed before he slightly shook his head, “she was unwillingly turned.”

The Duke’s head snapped towards you with a frown. His expression of formal politeness was no more. It was quickly succeeded by a cordial disdain, regarded with frown, on your behalf.

“Impossible.” He placed his chin in the knuckles of his hand. “Who would do such a thing? The event of someone unwillingly turned surviving is rare.”

“What!”

You violently twisted in your chair to face Abel and he stilled you with a hard look and an arm across your body to keep you from speaking and moving more.

“That is exactly my understanding as well, but she is alive and well and recently recovering from a bout of bloodlust.”

Leto stood up with a look of thought, and Abel followed suit.

You rise with a glare, your eyes looking between them both. You tried to keep your composure, but you were failing on every level. You could feel your anger coursing through your veins. Whatever magic that had your heart thumping surged throughout your body. Your heart beating faster and faster until you couldn’t feel it in your chest. It was racing at such a speed you couldn’t hear and your vision started to blur.

Leto had two hands on the side of your face, looking into your eyes as you stood frozen in your rage. When did he start talking to you? When did he put his hands on you?

“W—“

“— calm down.” His eyes glowed into yours. An iridescent gray blue. Almost a dark indigo of sorts.

It made you think of the rain. A thunderstorm and how before its clouds burst, the lightning cracks. Seconds after, it’s followed by thunder pounding. How once it ends, there’s an eerily still that falls on everything. The dark clouds recede and a bright and sunny day materializes in a bath of melancholy of not knowing what had just happened and why.

It didn’t calm you down, but it slowed your heart in your chest, something within you was still seething at him.

He didn’t weep for you as Abel did.

His thumb softly brushed at your cheek as he studied your face. A calmness bloomed across his face. His polite superiority is gone, revealing just a man— a vampire.

He looked like he found something he once longed for. Whatever it was, he now found in you.

You looked over to Abel. His expression is neutral,, revealing nothing to you.

“Um, Duke…sir?” You cleared your throat.

He practically leapt back. Except it happened before you could blink and he kept his hands awkwardly in front of him.

“Ah, yes.” He dusted off himself and brushed his clothes. “Forgive me. I got carried away.”

He looked at you once more, but now as if he knew you.

“Is there anything you could do to help her?” Abel's voice was strained with a cordial air, clipped with an agitation.

You reached out to him. Brushing your hands through his hair to rest momentarily on his cheek.

He closed his eyes for a brief moment. His brow furrowing and his mouth twisting to one side before he slightly moved away from your hand.

His face was back to normal, but a nagging feeling within you told him he wasn’t. It made you ache with a need to dissuade whatever it is. You wanted to repay him for all the moments he’s calmed you down and made you feel warm these last few days.

Being with Abel made you realize just how much distress Fontaine had you under. How rage got you out of bed in the morning and hatred got you through the day.

Being with Abel made you realize just how exhausting it was.

You were still learning how to exist in a calm state. How to let go of your thoughts and anger and take things one at a time.

“I can help break her tie.”

You shared a look with Abel. Your eyebrows rose into your hairline and your mouth agape. Leto’s words seemed to put Abel at ease. He unbuttoned one of the buttons of his suit jacket and held a fraction of a smile before he turned to face him.

“It will be very painful, but I—“

He paused. His ears tinging red as he cleared his throat and averted eye contact from you.

“May I,” he licked his lips, “may I have a taste of your blood?”

You looked into his eyes. It was a mistake.

They glowed with a dark unrelenting gaze. His bashfulness was no more, either way, heat rushed throughout all your senses. Your eyes fluttered as you looked anywhere but him.

“Yes.” You quickly stuttered out. “It’s—

“Are you sure?” He interrupted you and moved his head into your line of sight. Suddenly, filling up your personal space.

You blinked repeatedly and stared dumbly in response.

No one had ever asked.

You nodded silently and he only raised his eyebrows at you.

“Yes.” You said softly but with more determination than before.

With careful hands he moved your head to the side.

Burning, his mouth was burning you.

His mouth felt like hot coals being placed on your neck. He cradles your head towards his chest as if he had done it a million times. His mouth moves along your skin with the fury of a thunderstorm, swollen with the humidity of the summer air. Unrelenting and smothering, he finally bit down, something within you breaking. The evidence of its lightning touch was the thundering of your heart in your chest.

You don’t know what to do with your hands. You run them along his chest, his back. You push and pull at the fabric of his shirt, of him. All you could smell was him.

He was all you could feel.

Slowly raising his mouth from your skin, you both pant with heaving chests as you watch the small trail of blood that connects from his mouth to your skin.

Without missing a beat, he laps at the small holes left on your skin. You can’t help the moan that spills out of you, and he closes his eyes.

You slide your hands from his back into his hair.

Desperate to pull him in once more.

When he opens them, neither of you say a word. The glowing storm clouds of his eyes transform into something so dark it’s a wonder they still glow at all.

Without breaking eye contact, he swiped his tongue along his lips to taste more of your blood. Your eyes dart across his face, desperate to catch each movement.

He moved closer to you, mouthing along your neck and sniffed deeply at your skin, pushing his nose firmer against you. He breathed out of his mouth. The warmth of his breath searing into your pores.

You couldn’t take it.

“One more,” he panted into your neck. “Just one more.”

“Please.” You practically pant back into his mouth.

You aren’t aware of much of anything at this point. You're lost in tides of air and whirring winds and you aren’t sure you want it to end.

As he pulls up to you once more, you surge towards him in unison, unaware of just how much strength you were using.

He makes a small oomf sound as you thud into his chest. He puts his hands at your hips and holds you tentatively.

Your mouth clamps onto his neck with just as much fervor. You felt more desperate than he did. You felt like you weren’t as sensual. That you sucked and slurped at his skin like some rabid creature, but the sounds coming from you told you just how wrong you were.

His pants were growing short, sharper, almost transitioning into a low keening wine.

“Fuck.” He whimpered into your ear before pulling you off of him by your hair. An action you would have taken into offense if it was anyone else, but right now after what you both had done, you don’t know what the lines of inappropriate and appropriate were anymore.

“And here I thought I was the only woman for you.”

You both took a step away from each other. Leto straightened his posture and clasped his hands formally behind his back.

You stood wide eyed.

She had your face. Only a bit older in comparison, but you knew your own face when you saw it.

“I think it is past due time for Abel to have another lover.” A man had interrupted. And not just any man, but a man who was the spitting image of Fontaine, save for the African accent and no beard. His hair was much tamer in style, and he had an equal air of superiority that Leto carried, and he seems like the type to not play about it.

He was better than everyone, and he wanted anyone who crossed his path to know it. He barely made eye contact with anyone else in the room. The only reason he seemed interested in your existence was because of how you and Leto seemed lost in one another moments before.

“Forgive me, my love.” Leto cleared his throat and avoided eye contact with you as well. His ears tinging pink before he continued. “I assure you I have not taken up a lover of any kind.”

“No?'' She stepped closer to Leto and ran a hand through his hair.

His shoulders fell into a more casual posture, and his expression softened.

“She’s a fledgling.”

“I think it's time we made our leave.”

You turned towards Abel.

His voice did not reveal his feelings, but from the look in his eyes and the slight frown on his face, it was clear how he felt. A storm of guilt brewed in the pit of your stomach. You had only been with him for a short period of time, but you couldn't help the feeling that you committed some type of betrayal. However, not out of some loyalty, that he was some sort of only being you could be tied to, or that he was some sort of lover, but you felt some type of way about having that moment in front of him.

You still would have done it. You dont regret it in the slightest, but he shoulnd’t have been here to see it.

You sighed. Not caring to hide the agitation in your voice.

“I would love for someone to explain to me what that means instead of acting like I don't exist.”

Everyone turned to look atr Abel for some reason, and that irritated you even further. The rage boiled over within you. You could no longer see who or what was in the room, only what you were feeling.

“I know, through the magic, it feels like she's been a vampire for ten years, but if you’ve heard her story, it's only been for a short amount of time .” Abel said through his teeth.

“Well. . .” the woman who looked like you started. She eyed you up and down hungrily, “If she currently doesn’t belong to anyone. . “

“No.” Abel grabbed your arm and moved you behind him.

“I only made an agreement with him, and I don't have any allegiance to you whatsoever.”

“I understand her position of not being taught the proper edicate for how things work amongst us, but for you Abel there is no excuse!” Leto raised his voice. His eyes a startling eerie glow of a stormy blue-grey.

A wave of energy would have knocked you off your feet if you didn't grab Abel’s arm in time. He was much stronger than you were, so he didn’t seem to be affected by whatever invisible wave was swirling around in the room. He uncharacteristically glared at Leto. His apparent disrespectful attitude unwavering.

The man who had the same face of Fontaine looked you and Abel down with a pathetic disdain.

‘Where is the other one?” He asked as if he was offended that a copy of himself existed.

“What other one?” Abel spat. His eyes closing and his shoulders scrunching up as he waved his arms.

“What the fuck,” he yelled, his fangs bared and his eys glowing a dazzingly dangerous yet beatiful yellow, “is going on? What aren't you telling me?”

“Abel did you not tell them?” the woman with your face smacked her teeth and looked back at Abel with a glare.

“I was getting to it.” He looked much more sympathetic.

“It looked much more like you were about to put your tongue down another woman’s throat if you ask me.”

“Enough!’ she turned back to give the man a look. “Does it look like I care? If you can’t stand to be in the same room as Leto so badly, then you go find Jay!”

He smacked his teeth with a frown, and then suddenly looked over to you.

The sound and look on his face at that moment made him look so much like Fontaine. Anger rushed through your senses once more.

“Wipe that look off your face.’ He scoffed at you before making his way out the door, “I promise you, I hold no resemblance to whoever this other vampire may be.”

He spared one more look at Abel. This time with much less disgust.

“Follow me.”

Abel looked towards you instead.

“Go.” Leto commanded and Abel glared at him.

Silently, he followed. Not bothering to hide his frown.

You eyed him trepidly.

What was all this about?

-

Yo-yo didn’t like the sight of this.

A woman who looked just like you but at least ten years older walked in. Behind her, a man that looked just like Fontaine.

He kept his hair in a sizable fro on his head with a proper edge up that was faded at the temples. A smaller amount of facial hair that was way better groomed than Fontaine would ever attempt.

He was just as fancily clad as the other two men that looked alike.

“This is bad. She’s drunk that other vampire’s blood.” Slick whispered into her ear.

“Shut the fuck up before someone hears us in here!” She whisper-shouted at him.

They had snuck in, but whatever glamor Slick had placed on them had only lasted so long.

Yo-yo chewed on her lip as she watched you all sit down on a large couch. This vampire was just as strong as the one called Leto. Not only that, but she also had your face.

That meant big things. Things they couldn’t change.

A prophecy or some shit.

“Is that why you kept looking at me so strangly?” Yo-yo watched you ask. “Because you know. . .her?”

“He’s only ever met me like this.”

You nodded. Not really looking at either of them, making the woman frown in sympathy.

“My name is Shante.”

“Why do you all have our faces?”

Shante shared a look with Abel.

“Straight to the point I see.” She smiled. “I was the same way when it was my first time. I know it must have been hard and confusing.”

“Hard and confusing is an understatement.” You huffed bitterly.

She let out a short sigh, more out of nerves and not frustration.

You looked up at her oddly.

Yo-yo could only wonder why.

“I won’t hold you long or beat around the bush.”

“I think that’s best.” Abel clasped her hand in his.

“If you want to get technical, we are the originators of these faces and you all are our dopplegangers.”

You nodded, wringing your hands in your lap. “I think I know what those are.”

“You're always going to have a Leto and a Ghezo.”

Shante leveled at you with a serious tone.

This made you leap up with a hiss, baring your fangs.

“I don’t need Fontaine!”

“But you do.” Shante stood up and hissed back at you. “Without him you will never know peace. If you kill him, you might as well kill yourself too!”

“Good!” You screamed! Your voice sends a shock of power throughout the room making everyone still, even Yo-yo and Slick.

“What?” You broke the silence. “What’s so surprising about that after everything I’ve been through?”

“Forgive me,” Shante abruptly sat. “I didn’t know things were that bad between you.”

You sat with a self assured huff. Appearing more calm now that no one was about to tell you to get over your emotions.

“What makes you so sure, I need him?” You swallowed, looking straight ahead and not making eye contact with anyone. “What makes you think I could get over it?”

But everyone knew what you were really asking.

“I once was mad just as you were.” Shante said softly.

You looked at her with watery eyes.

“I was turned just like you.” Shante looked at her and Leto’s hands clasped together in her lap. “Ghezo had made a deal with someone. They promised him an eternity of power. . . But they also warned him about the cost. The people he would lose and now he’d never get close to anyone.”

She drew in a shaky breath and you cooled closer to her. She smiled softly. A tear falling down her cheek. Leto wiped at it with his thumb.

“He talked with all of us, his wives. Some said yes without thinking, but I said no.” She looked up at you, with a stream of tears falling down her face.

Yo-yo wiped a tear of her own as she watched you both cry. Slick put a hand on her shoulder, and she didn’t brush it away.

“I was in love with being human and the idea of cheating death didn’t sit right with me. Long story short, I woke up like this, against my will.”

“What did you do?” You whispered.

“I left him. I left my home. . . And then I found Leto.”

“So. . . You stayed with him and for some reason just forgave Ghezo?”

“I wish I could tell you more, but you and Abel have to find your own way. . . And Fontaine.”

“I’m going to kill him.”

Yo-yo couldn’t hear anymore.

“I think we got what we came for.”

Slick didn’t say anything. Nodding, he snapped his fingers, and they were both gone.

[hostilecandle]

If your in a wheelchair why would you say you want to get beat up by price?? Make it make sense..

Jkladsfgjdk exCUSE ME?! Who the fuck let their fucking child run free???

Okay..

1) that man could kick me out of my chair this very instant and I'd still say Thank you, Sir. So get that straight right the fuck now.

2) What in the actual fuck is wrong with some of yall???

Normally I'd ignore shit like this but yall need to understand this is actually incredibly invasive and not okay. Regardless of how open I talk about my disabilities and sexuality on here. -_-

Also disabled people in wheelchairs can like and enjoy sex??? And bdsm?? And everything in between?? Im not sure what "Doesn't make sense" here.. I'm an openly gay man who was in an accident and now I have to use a wheelchair. I also want John Price to step on me. The two are in no way mutually exclusive.

Anyways anon privileges are going away for awhile. Yall don't know how to behave apparently.

[alintalzin]

A playlist for Isren Farhal and Marasiah Ispennes from The Dark Gambit of Stars, formerly known as my "Endonaa" wip.

[garenabelunokan]

“If John Boyega were your boyfriend, the two of you would develop a language composed entirely of facial expressions. A slow blink at the same time would translate to “We have to go home right now.” You’d never stay at parties longer than you had to.”

[my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction]

Out of curiosity, how would (insert character of tour choice here!) react to being asked to kill a giant bug because reader is WAY too scared to do it themself?

Heehee, ahh this is so fun! (I'm sorry, I chose everyone basically. Also I'm a big softie for insects, and pretty much everyone is just taking them outside.)

oscar isaac charcters x GN!Reader • Rating: PG •Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | requestinfo• ko-fi •

Warnings: bugs, bug death

Word Count: 681

_____________________________________

Steven: Will NOT be killing the bug, he will be putting a cup/glass/bowl over it and putting it safely outside.

Marc: Literally just grabs it with his hands and puts it outside, usually via the window if he can't be bothered to put his shoes on.

Jake: Will very seriously pretend to get out his gun to shoot the offending insect until you laugh. 

Nathan: Rolls his eyes and says "bugs are important for the ecosystem” and “the only bugs I deal with are computer ones." He has a robot to sort out real-life insects that get in the house for him. (He will never admit it but he doesn't want to touch the bug, even through the barrier of a glass.)

Anselm: His third cousin twice removed has the job title of 'insect remover'.

Cecil: Tries to get the bug in a glass, accidentally puts the cup down too quickly and cuts it in half with the rim. Has a complete breakdown over it that you will need to console him for for the next three hours. 

Club!Blue: He'll make you do it yourself, and watch you while you do it.

Orderly!Blue: Please do not ask him because not only is he gonna catch the bug, but he's gonna put it on you in some kind of twisted aversion therapy. 

Jack: He's... he's eaten the bug.

Santiago: Will carry you out of the room before he removes the offending insect for your well-being (it doesn't matter how much you weigh). Will ignore when you say carrying you isn't good for his knees, will kiss your cheeks and forehead repeatedly.

Shimmer!Kane: Will just look at you a little confused for a minute or two. Then he'll look at the bug, somehow the bug just walks out of the house straight away seemingly of its own volition. 

King John: He's not gonna do fuck all about the bug. But he will kiss you and pull you into his lap until you've completely forgotten about the bug. 

Rydal: He's gonna tease the hell out of you, 'why can't you deal with the bug?' Then he sees the insect himself and is like, 'oh no, no no.' You both have to sort out this problem together, basically attached to the hip the whole time. 

Laurent: He's going to shoo the bug away and out this a large paintbrush. And then grin like a little shit when he's done it. Will expect kisses as a reward.

Poe: Does it without thinking, just gets the bug and takes it outside if it's not gonna be a threat to either of you. Doesn't even realise it's a big deal until after you hug him as a thank you. 

William: There is never a bug for you to ask him to get rid of, he's made sure the place is insect free already. 

Miguel: Miguel-what have you got against bugs?-O'Hara. Will stay completely deadpan until you get flustered and then will crack a cheeky smile. 

Bud: He's already swatted it with his newspaper before you even have to ask.

Richard: Doesn't want to hurt the bug if it's not dangerous and will take it outside for you. Will also get his dog to 'patrol' around the house for you to keep you safe and protected from any other insects that try to encroach. 

Robbie: Is so happy to be helpful, and just wants to make sure you're content and feeling safe.

Jonathan: Is so used to taking bugs out of his daughter's room that he'll do it without a second thought.

Leto: Will chuckle and tease you a little about it, but he likes that you asked him and he also likes that he can do this for you.

Basil: You're gonna have to save him from the bug, I'm afraid.

Abel: Thoroughly amused that you ask him to, won't make a big deal out of it but likes that he can sort this out of you. Makes him feel wanted. 

_________________

Thank you for reading!

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[v-akarai]

References in Servamp

Arabian mythology

Jinn. Ch. 16

Greek mythology

Elpis. Ch. 75

Moirai. Ch. 108

Pandora. Ch. 130

Pygmalion. Ch. 123

Pandora's Box. Ch. 97

Japanese mythology

Gashadokuro. Ch. 129

Kitsune. Ch. 3

Raijin. Ch. 85

Norse mythology

Baldr. Ch. 39

Bifröst. Ch. 88

Brunhild. Ch. 88

Fimbulwinter. Ch. 40

Freya. Ch. 65

Frey. Ch. 131

Gleipnir. Ch. 101

Hati. Ch. 91, 131

Hod. Ch. 39

Hliðskjálf. Ch. 96

Idunn. Ch. 65

Loki. Ch. 15

Mimir. Ch. 29

Mjölnir. Ch. 53

Ragnarök. Ch. 101, 122, 131

Sigurd. Ch. 101

Thor. Ch. 41

Yggdrasil. Ch. 42

Biblical references

Abel. Ch. 8

Adam. Ch. 128

Boaz and Jachin. Ch. 42

Eden. Ch. 21

Eve. Ch. 1

John the Baptist. Ch.122

Lucifer. Ch. 135

Nod. Ch. 29, events

Hinduism

Asura. Ch. 57.5, 89.

Tarot

The Fool - Mahiru. Ch. 50

I. The Magician – Night trio. Ch. 41

II. The High Priestess – Mikuni. Ch. 42

V. The Hierophant - Shuhei. Ch. 77

X. Wheel of Fortune - Junichiro. Ch. 53

XII. The Hanged Man - Tsurugi. Ch. 50

XV. The Devil – Shamrock. Ch. 72

XVI. The Tower - Touma. Ch. 47

XVII. The Star - Iduna. Ch. 73

XVIII. The Moon - Yumikage. Ch. 69

XX. Judgement - Mikuni. Ch. 144

Literary references

 "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" Lewis Carroll. Ch. 3, 4, 7, 19, 98, 122. Misono, Lily, Dodo, Mitsuki, Yamane, Hattori, Mikuni, Bad B and Good B.

"As You Like It" William Shakespeare. Ch. 10, 38.5. Mikuni's spell.

"My Fair Lady" English nursery rhyme. Ch. 10 Mikuni's spell.

"Dracula" Bram Stoker. Ch. 12, 30. Hugh.

"Romeo and Juliet" William Shakespeare. Ch. 23, 34. Hyde, Ophelia.

"Faust" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Ch. 29 Johannes.

"Through the Looking-Glass" Lewis Carroll. Ch. 29, events. Mikuni, Johannes.

"Julius Caesar" William Shakespeare. Ch. 23, 84. Hyde.

"Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" Robert Stevenson. Ch. 23, 37. Hyde, Licht.

"Macbeth" William Shakespeare. Ch. 24, 31. Kuro, Saint Germain, Mahiru.

"Night on the Galactic Railroad" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 26, 142. Higan, Tsubaki.

"The Little Prince" Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Ch 30, 67. Kuro, Mahiru, Sloth demon, Gear, probably Jeje.

"Hamlet" William Shakespeare. Ch. 33, 34. Hyde, Ophelia.

"The Phantom of the Opera" Gaston Leroux. Ch. 36 Licht and Hyde technique.

"Peter and Wendy" James Barry. Ch. 44, 56, 74. Tsurugi, Touma, Mahiru.

"Ring a Ring o' Roses" nursery rhyme. Ch. 53 Junichiro's spell.

“Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens” James Barry. Ch. 53, 75. Tsurugi, Touma.

"Death in Venice" Thomas Mann. Ch. 55 Gilbert technique.

"Total Eclipse" a play by Christopher Hampton. Ch. 55 Rayscent's technique.

"The Morning of the Last Farewell" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 57.5 Tsubaki.

"Spring and Asura" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 57.5 Tsubaki.

"The Catcher in the Rye" Jerome Salinger. Ch. 62 Shuhei.

"Four and Twenty Blackbirds" Agatha Christie. Ch. 62 Shuhei's spell.

"Metamorphosis" Franz Kafka. Ch. 62 Shamrock technique.

“The Nighhawk's Star” Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 62, 76. Shamrock technique.

"Rock-a-bye Baby" an English lullaby. Ch. 70 Touma's spell.

“Schlafe, mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein” lullaby. Ch. 70 Touma's spell.

"Who Killed Cock Robin" an English nursery rhyme. Ch. 70 Yumikage's spell.

"The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" Lyman Frank Baum. Ch. 70, 88. Tsukimitsu brothers’ spells.

"Daddy-Long-Legs" Jean Webster. Ch. 74. Dark Night Trio, Touma.

"King Lear" William Shakespeare. Ch. 86. Hyde.

"The House of the Sleeping Beauties" Yasunari Kawabata. Ch. 86. Iori.

"The Divine Comedy" Dante Alighieri. Ch. 118, 120, 121. Niccolo, Ildio, Gluttony demon.

“A Brute's Love” (人でなしの恋) Edogawa Rampo. Ch. 122 Mikuni, Lily.

"Coppelia" ballet Leo Delibes. Chapter 122 Mikuni, Lily.

"Salome" Oscar Wilde. Ch. 122 Mikuni, Lily.

"Turandot" opera by Giacomo Puccini based on the play by Carlo Gozzi. Ch. 129, 136. Lily.

"The Tempest" William Shakespeare. Ch. 131. Licht and Hyde.

"The Old Man and the Sea" Ernest Hemingway. Ch. 134 Hugh.

"Flowers for Algernon" Daniel Keyes. Ch. 135 Hugh.

"Jane Eyre" Charlotte Brontë. Ch. 136. Hokaze.

"Madama Butterfly" opera by Giacomo Puccini. Ch. 136. Lily.

"Hansel and Gretel" the Brothers Grimm. Ch. 140. Faust and Otogiri.

Music

"Für Elise" by Ludwig van Beethoven. Ch. 34

"Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" by Johann Sebastian Bach. Ch. 125

Sonata No. 17 "Tempest" by Ludwig van Beethoven. Ch. 131

Movies

"It's a Wonderful Life" (1946). Ch. 131

"Life is Beautiful" (1997). Ch. 131

I believe this list can be expanded. Somewhere I’ve written only chaps when some reference was mentioned for the first time and omitted all further mentions.

Special thanks to hello-vampire-kitty, joydoesathing and passmeabook, because some works wouldn’t be included in the list without their observations.

[callsign-bubbles]

the lonely letters. dr ashon crawley. 2020.

credits - nathan danette / unknown / kevin shea / zac bondurant / nathan danette / mapleleafs on x / mark blinch / graig abel / keith srakocic / bruce bennett / bruce bennett / john dunn / bill streicher / mark blinch / TSN / sportskeeda / sportsnetwork / lance mcmillan / frank gunn / kevin sousa / NHLI / frank gunn / klaus andersen / john e. sokolowski / wikipedia / google search results / Gotta See It: Tavares scores in OT to win Maple Leafs first playoff series since 2004

a little playoff hype hope for our boys! i have so much faith in this team and i believe in us all the way :)

[rosesanddecay]

Oscar Isaac Characters Finding You Dead

Minors DNI

Featured Characters: Miguel O’Hara, Moon Knight System, Basil Stitt, Blue Jones, Poe Dameron, Nathan Bateman, Duke Leto Atreides, Prince John, Santiago “Pope” Garcia, Anselm Vogelweide, Llewyn Davis, Abel Morales x gn!reader

Sorry if anyone is ooc!

CW: death, murder, suicide, blood/gore, break-in, various wounds, torture, etc. + pet names, untranslated Spanish, so on.

Notice! Not all of these scenarios are romantically founded, the reader is just someone who knew the character/was close with them.

These are just some short, dumb little rambles/headcannons of mine, so it’s not written the best.

Not proof read or heavily edited

Miguel O’Hara - Villain Attack

There was never a doubt in Miguel’s mind, he knew that one day he’d have to save you. But not like this…

A Green Goblin anomaly had appeared and started bombing Nueva York.

You’d think with all the Spider People so close by, there’d be no casualties. But being so focused on protecting other universes, he almost neglected his own.

The moment Miguel was aware of the anomaly, he and many other Spiders rushed in to help protect the city.

The damage was already extreme, with two buildings nearly demolished.

Spiders spread across the scene, saving and moving the bystanders as Miguel focused on the alternate Goblin.

After capturing the terrorizer, Miguel started barking orders to everyone, wanting everything cleared up asap.

He was heading back to base as the spiders cleared the rubble.

“Oh god- MIGUEL!” One of the Spiders cried out as they tried to lift a large blanket of concrete up. The urgency in their voice quickly set Miguel off.

Miguel rushed over, his heart dropping seeing your dust covered body.

How long had you been under there? Why didn’t anyone sense you sooner? Miguel’s mind raced with panic.

With his sheer strength, he threw the debris away from your body and checked your vitals, his eyes focused on your face the entire time.

Open your eyes… please… mi amor…

When didn’t feel a heartbeat, he went to start cpr, but realized your ribs were broken. The broken bones had stabbed your vital organs, he couldn’t save you, it would’ve only caused more damage.

Miguel didn’t even realize he was crying until he saw his tears hit your face, muddling the dust covering your skin.

It wasn’t often he cried, hell, it took a good few minutes for him to start crying over Gabriella’s death. But after another loss, he couldn’t hold in the pain he was already barely containing.

His arms cradled your broken body with the most care possible. It didn’t matter that you were gone, you were his, the person he swore to protect.

I failed again…

Sobs ruptured through the bombing site. The boss who everyone saw as intimidating and cold, was now hunched over, sobbing over your limp body.

I failed.

I failed.

I failed…

Moon Knight System - Steven / Marc / Jake - Break-in and Murder

Steven, once again, had a late night of work at the gift shop. He was exhausted when he came home, but was more than happy to be back home after stocking shelves for hours.

He was almost tempted to let Marc or Jake front instead, but Steven wanted to see you before Jake took off to do Konshu’s bidding later in the night.

“Love, I'm back!” He says, keeping up his cheerfulness. It had been a long day, he just wants to see you.

Looking around the house, Steven felt confused. You normally rushed to meet him, to welcome him back.

Where were you?

Walking into the bedroom, Steven saw your form under the blankets.

“Love? Are you not feeling well?” He asked quietly, worried he might wake you.

You looked at peace, your hair tousled as it lays on the pillow. Your skin was a bit pale, but Steven smiled softly, assuming you were just tired, he knew he sure was.

His hand fell on your covered stomach as he sat beside you. But a warmth quickly spread over where he had applied pressure to the blanket.

Looking over, Steven nearly had a heart attack. His hand was tacky from blood that now soaked the thick comforter that’s covering you.

With fear rushing through his veins, he ripped off the covers to reveal the stab wounds littered across your torso.

A scream ripped through his chest as he quickly tried to see if you were still alive. His heart dropped when he felt your cold skin and lack of a heart beat.

Despite Jake and Marc trying to desperately front, Steven wouldn’t let them or listen to their pleads.

Instead, he grabbed your body and sobbed. His hand clasped yours, wishing yours would squeeze his, that you’d wake up and kiss his worries away.

No, no, no— what happened— love… oh god…

It took a good while for Steven to let one of the others front, but Marc took over when he got the chance.

Both had been confined to the mirrors in the bedroom, wishing they could hold you like Steven had. Instead, for over an hour, they were stuck in the mirrors, cursed to grieve from a distance.

Steven faded back into the subconscious, too drained to watch Marc from the mirror.

Jake, on the other hand, took a step back into the subconscious because he had his own plans.

Marc didn’t sob as much as Steven did, but his pain was just as bad.

He had lost so much in life, he was almost confused on how to express his grief for you.

His fingers run along your face, tracing every detail he loves so much. Marc wished you would open your eyes, but your body was long since cold.

Marc wished he complimented you more. Sure, he praised you often, but did you know how much he loved you?

His heart ached with guilt. Marc wanted to make you blush once more from his compliments and soft kisses.

He didn’t know who did this. But he would. They’d find out who did this.

They all would get justice for you.

By Konshu’s word, he swore they would.

It was Marc who called the police and watched as you were dragged away to the hospital morgue.

It was Marc who watched the security footage that showed your killer breaking into the apartment and leaving an hour later.

It was Marc who found out the explicit details that came with your murder.

Marc was the one who told Steven and Jake the details.

This shouldn’t have ever happened… but now we know. What do we do next?

Jake was the protector, or so he’s supposed to be.

Standing over your body in the freezing morgue, Jake stared at your expressionless face.

He could remember the last time you two had a date night. The night was warm as he drove the two of you around town. He could remember the beautifully warm smile that broke across your face as the date came to a close.

Jake would do anything to see that smile again.

The others had already fronted to say their final goodbyes, Jake wanted to be the last one. He wanted to talk to you one last time.

“We found out who did this, amor.” He whispered, trying to contain his wavering voice.

“They won’t get away with this…” His lips brushed your forehead.

”I’m sorry I couldn’t save you…” His tears finally fell down as he reluctantly pulled away.

As he left the hospital, Jake dawned the suit and slipped into the night, ready to enact revenge for you.

Your murderer will regret ever laying a finger on you…

Basil Stitt - Suicide

Basil hadn’t seen you in a while. Yes, part of it was because he had locked himself in his apartment, but he also just hadn’t seen you pass by his door.

He always had his eye to the peephole when you should be leaving or getting home from work.

Is that weird? Of course, but it made him feel less alone. He wanted to talk to you, but his scars contained him to his room.

Where were you? He wondered after spending an entire day looking out into the hallway.

Basil’s heart dropped when he saw movers taking garbage bags out of your apartment.

What are they doing to your things?

Despite his fear, Basil dawned his paper bag and poked his head out.

“What are you guys doing?” Basil questioned nervously.

“There was a suicide. The family wanted us to collect the person’s belongings.” The confused and hesitant workers answered.

Basil slammed his door and collapsed to the ground instantly. The paper bag tumbling to the floor as he clutched and pulled his hair.

His body trembled with grief and hatred as tears pooled on the floor.

He never was good at reacting to bad information, but this was worse.

Why did you leave him too? What did he do wrong?

First it was his face, then his job, then his family and girlfriend, but now you too?

His tears turned to screams and Basil went on a destructive rampage in his apartment, the agony overwhelming him.

He blamed himself for your death, despite barely knowing anything about it.

Maybe if he hadn’t gone into hiding, you would’ve lived. Maybe you two could’ve been lonely together.

But he was also angry.

How could you leave him after everything that happened to him? When he needed you the most?

You didn’t know though. How could you? Your neighbor, the only person you saw everyday, had disappeared for weeks without a word.

Basil knew that, but nothing could stop the emotions flooding and pouring out of him.

Why did you leave me? Why? Why?! Why?!?

Blue Jones - Murdered by a Client

Working for Blue always had its risks, and everyone knew that, including him.

But Blue didn’t expect this.

You had been bought out for the night by a rich newcomer. Nothing bad was supposed to happen.

Blue gave them permission to use you as you saw fit. As long as the merchandise didn’t get damaged, anything went.

Blue stood over your strangled body, his face neutral and flat.

Your glossed over eyes stared back at him, lips hung open loosely.

He didn’t expect his toy to be destroyed, let alone strangled to death.

Your costume was still on, but your makeup was out of place. Blue’s doll was a beautiful, broken mess.

Blue exhaled a puff of smoke as he turned to the killer, the man a sobbing mess.

“I didn’t mean to- they wouldn’t listen to me- please let me go, I’ll compensate you-“ He tried to ramble out, shutting up when the barrel of Blue’s gun pressed against his forehead.

The shot rang through the entire building. The girls and clients quickly rushed out of the other rooms to see what happened.

Screams and tears broke out from the girls as Blue pushed past everyone going to his office.

But it was once he was alone that Blue had the chance to process what happened.

Everytime he closed his eyes, he saw your dead ones. It hurt seeing something he owned in such a state.

Only one tear falls down his cheek as he reviews the footage of what happened. He always kept cameras in the rooms, it was a security measure, but he didn’t think he’d actually ever watch the footage for something like this.

Blue already knew the man was lying about why he killed you, but it hurt to watch you get choked and beg to be let go of.

The man was just angry, he only wanted to kill. You had done nothing wrong. Which made Blue mad.

He leaned back in his seat as the hot, silent tears fell down his cheeks, hidden by the cigar smoke flooding the front of his face.

Blue decided that, from the forward, he was going to be far more strict with who could touch his toys…

My poor bunny…

Poe Dameron - Spaceship Crash

You and Poe had agreed to stay safe, to meet one another after the fight concluded.

Together, you were going to celebrate the victory.

Poe knew you were an intelligent flier, that you were going to do great things for the universe.

There wasn’t a doubt in his mind that everything went well, until he joined the celebrations…

Everyone was celebrating over the successful stop to the First Order. But as Poe searched the crowds, he realized you were missing.

Fearing the worst, he darted to the medical tents, desperately looking for you. His fears were met when he saw your barely breathing body.

Poe fell to his knees besides the cot you rested on, analyzing the damage you had taken.

He called out your name, to no response.

“Their ship was shot and crashed. There were some malfunctions and the safety’s didn’t trigger. They don’t have much longer, there’s nothing we can do on such short notice.” A nurse sadly explained.

“So you're just leaving them to die out!?” Poe exclaimed in horror, his tears falling fast and hard.

Despite wanting to reprimand the nurse, he knew it would do nothing. Instead, he held your hand to his lips as he watched you until your final breath.

In your final moments, Poe had been whispering soft and loving words to you, hoping you could hear him.

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t here sooner, that any of this happened. You deserve the world, the galaxy. You helped save us. You’re a hero… you’re my galaxy…”

Poe couldn’t stop crying, and he could barely hear himself over the cheering outside.

He should’ve been celebrating with you, this shouldn’t have happened.

No one knew where Poe had gone, and hours later, Finn had to pull Poe away from your body.

Despite all reluctance, Poe eventually left your side for the night, but he didn’t stop mourning you.

That night, he spent his time in your room holding your belongings close, not wanting to lose the last bits of you he does have.

My galaxy, I’m so so sorry…

Nathan Bateman - Killed by a Prototype

You had been one of the few people Nathan trusted enough to come around the house.

Not that he ever let you go downstairs, no.

He didn’t need you to.

When first developing Ava and her predecessors, he had chosen to try and study a real person. Not through the cameras like he did later on, no.

He thought it’d be better to model the AI after someone he liked.

But he was wrong. One of the few times he had let his emotions make his decision, and it was the worst one.

While trying to work out the kinks of the AI, it had escaped. It had knocked him unconscious for long enough that it made its way upstairs.

The girl stared at you in horror as you stood in the kitchen, knife in hand from making dinner.

You looked just as shocked to see a nude woman coming up from the basement, wires hanging from her broken arm.

She even looked oddly similar to you.

Before you could even react, she tackled you, the knife going flying.

Nathan, having heard the crash, awoke and ran upstairs.

He came up from behind and broke the AI’s skull, the body falling on top of you.

“For fucks sake. That was awf…” he trailed off once he shoved the AI’s body to the side and saw you.

Nathan didn’t know how to react seeing your bleeding body, knife sticking out from where your heart is.

There was no hospital nearby, and with how glassy your eyes looked, he knew you were doomed.

Silently, Nathan sat back on his knees and feet, just staring down at your lifeless body.

He wasn’t an emotional person, but he didn’t like how he felt at that moment.

His eyes searched yours before shifting to the dead AI woman, his creation, your killer.

Nathan’s fists reacted quicker than his brain had, and before he knew it, his hands were bloody from breaking the AI down to nothing but shards.

His feet moved to the bar, and before he knew it, he had drunk a full bottle of vodka.

His knuckles, caked in dried blood, chucked the bottle at the wall. The shatters go flying, some even hitting you…

Nathan stood over your body, once again, staring down at you. His expression unclear.

After your death, Nathan was far more careful. Adding keycards to open doors, not just simple locks.

He even kept the prototypes locked up no matter what.

And who knows, maybe your death is what got him to start drinking so much…

How idiotic…

Duke Leto Atreides - Poisoning

Leto knew the dangers of loving you, yet he still did it.

He always made his love clear, practically worshiping you in private.

Leto would risk his life and title as Duke just to care for you for forever.

He wanted to propose eventually.

But your life was taken long before he had the chance.

The Duke looked down at your slumped body, your poisoned drink spilt from where your head had fallen.

In that moment, Leto regretted never marrying you.

He loved you, but in theory, it was better to stay unmarried, open to alliances with the other Great Houses.

But this wasn’t worth it.

Your life wasn’t worth it.

Leto had to keep his composure in front of his men, but in the comfort of his room, he cried. He weeped.

His sobs shook his body as remorse and grief overwhelmed his senses.

Seeing your body in such a way, it shook him to the core.

Sure, he had experienced death before, but this was different.

He loved you, and he saw where you died, he saw you dead.

Choked sobs escaped his lips as he recounted all the moments you two shared.

He wished he could’ve kept you safe, stopped you from drinking the poison.

You were in the House of Atreides, you should have been safe.

That’s what ate at him. That you died where he swore you were protected.

You died under his care.

Why you were killed, he wasn’t sure. But he swore to find out, to avenge you.

If nothing else, he’d make sure to get you justice.

He loved you, and he messed up never marrying you.

I wish I had made you mine, my dear…

Prince John - Assassination

John, the prideful idiot, should’ve never put a bounty on Robin Hood’s head.

It only made his reputation worse.

John should’ve lowered the taxes, but he didn’t.

And now all the citizens hate him, rightfully so.

But John always had you to go back to, you to love and receive love back.

You tried to reason with John, to show him he was being unreasonable and bleeding his kingdom dry.

Yet he never listened, and he now knows the danger of not listening to the advice he gets.

You had just been going about your business, crossing through the towns when you were attacked.

What was supposed to be a simple robbery, turned to an assassination. One of Robin’s troupe mates had gone rogue; they wanted to send Prince John a message.

The message was received.

John had gotten word of what happened.

He found out about how you begged for your life.

How you cried before your body was abandoned on a wooded path.

It made him angry. It made John furious.

You didn’t deserve this. You advocated for the citizens, yet you were the one killed.

John had destroyed everything in sight upon hearing of your murder.

His guards and mother had barely been able to calm him down. But once he had come down from the rage, John broke out into sobs.

He was barely consolable, all he wanted was to fall into your arms and be comforted by you.

Just one more time, John wanted to feel you caress his scalp as you reassured your love for him.

He couldn’t believe he lost you, the only person who loved him.

In spite and pure hatred, John raised the bounty on Robin Hood and his gaggle of followers.

John wanted them alive so he could execute them on your behalf, but he’d take their dead bodies as well.

As long as they were dead, he would be content.

Robin Hood… you’ll regret this… hurting my beloved…

Santiago “Pope” Garcia - Car Accident

Santi had been through so much in life, and it made him extremely overprotective of those he loved.

He always was worried and tried to protect you.

He didn’t want to risk you getting hurt, especially in the dangerous world we live in.

So why did the world still take you from him?

Santi didn’t know how to react when he got the call from the hospital.

He initially had ignored the call, thinking it was a reminder to set up an appointment or something. But when they called again a few minutes after, the blood in his face drained.

“… died… car crash…” those were the only words his brain registered the operator saying.

His heart broke into a million pieces and he felt like he was hyperventilating.

You died..? How could you die in a crash? After everything tried to do to protect you?

The call had ended and Santi sat hunched over, crying into the palms of his hands. His breathing was erratic and uncontrollable.

If he had picked up the first time, maybe he could have made it to the hospital. Maybe he could’ve said goodbye. At least, that’s what he thought.

“I’m so sorry- oh god, no…” He murmured over and over, desperately wishing it wasn’t true.

He almost wished he was at the crash, that way he could’ve seen you one last time. But now, he’s stuck waiting for the morgue to call, waiting to confirm that it’s your body on the table.

Santi’s sobs only stopped when he passed out from exhaustion.

Why did this happen to you? Why you…

Anselm Vogelweide - Shot on Accident

Anselm was known for his erratic and random behavior. That included when he’d change his mind on a whim.

Despite his absurd actions, you cared for him, as he did you.

Anselm always kept you nearby, and everyone knew that. Even people just passing through his office knew that.

He treated you differently, he treated you better than most of his other employees.

Where he’d change his mind as he saw fit with his clients, he was very firm with his decisions regarding you.

And it didn’t go unnoticed.

So when Anselm decided to raise the price out of the blue on a client, the client was pissed.

It wasn’t unexpected that a gun was going to be pulled, but the gunshot that rang out- that was a surprise.

His men had already detained the perpetrator before Anselm realized that you’d been shot.

Your hands clutched at your bleeding heart, and your eyes quickly fell shut, your body following suit.

Disregarding his squeaking leg brace, Anselm dove to collect your body in his arms.

His eyes were wide with horror and disbelief at the sight of you dying in his arms.

The world was practically silent for him as he watched you breath your last breath.

Anselm sat there for a moment, pulling your body close to his chest in an attempt to preserve your warmth. He felt an ache in his chest when you gave no response, your body limp and spilling blood.

Anselm didn’t give himself the time to mourn or cry, instead he went cold, his heart stilling for a moment as his attention turned to the shooter.

Looking through the fogged glass lens, Anselm ordered to have your killer chained up in the basement as he carried your body to another room.

For months after your death, Anselm tortured the person who killed you.

The basement became a crime scene of horrific activities. Teeth and nail pulling, breaking bones, slicing skin, it was all incomparable to what Anselm felt the murderer deserved.

They killed his dear dove. This was the least he could do.

His disappointment was immeasurable when he found the murderer dead one morning, Anselm felt far from done torturing them.

The body was disposed of swiftly, and afterwards, Anselm visited the extravagant grave he made special for you.

It was only then, after everything, that he let himself cry over your passing.

My dove…

Llewyn Davis - Suicide

Llewyn was your friend, and the two of you always helped one another out.

He needed a couch to sleep on, you were open. You needed a drinking buddy, he was there.

You both couldn’t offer much monetarily, both just trudging through life and old habits.

But you always left the window unlocked, just for him.

Llewyn hadn’t heard from you in a while, and it had just so happened, he needed a place to stay and was in the area.

Throwing open the fire escape window, he hopped through, entering your apartment.

He called your name as he wandered around, confused where you could be so late in the day.

Yet, when he arrived at the bathroom door he paused, knocking before entering.

He instantly wished he never opened the door.

In the tub, surrounded by bloodied water, he saw you. Your face was towards the window, like you were watching the sky before you died.

The sight made him nearly hurl, but the tears made it out first.

What have you done…

Just when Llewyn thought his life couldn’t get worse, you decided to leave him just like Mike did…

Of course, he knew it wasn’t actually a choice to go against him, but it still felt like he was part of why you took your life.

And that broke his heart.

If he had just visited you or bummed at your place more often, would you still have gone through with it?

He called the police after a bit of a breakdown, and a few days later, he was alerted that your only goodbye was a note scrawled with “I’m sorry.”

Maybe the note was for him, but boy, he wished there was more.

A simple “fuck you Llewyn” would’ve been better than this…

You had always asked him to play a song, but he alway said no. He always said he was too tired, that music was his work, not something he wanted to do all the time.

You never pushed him to play for you, not like other people did. So, he never played for you.

But now, in front of your grave, Llewyn played his heart out to you. His tears bouncing off his guitar, onto the frozen ground where you’d been buried.

‘If I had wings, like Norah’s dove,

I’d fly up the river to the one I love…’

Abel Morales - Accidentally Killed During Work

Abel knew the dangers of letting his employees continue their oil deliveries and solo inspections.

So many of his employees had already been attacked, yet he still took the risk.

He just didn’t expect the attacks to get worse.

Sure, some had been threatened with a gun, hell, one was kidnapped and beaten.

But this was the first time someone actually died…

Upon hearing about your death, Abel stopped in his tracks and demanded to know what happened.

He felt like his life was falling apart the moment his wife explained what happened.

After so many troubles and hoops he’s had to go through for his company, he didn’t think he’d be losing one of his best employees as well.

You were doing a simple house call and sales pitch.

That’s all it was supposed to be.

If he had known your colleague wasn’t feeling well, he wouldn’t have sent you out to the call at all.

He never would’ve guessed you’d decide to go alone…

Abel felt guilty over your death. You died because the competition was trying to send a message, or at least that’s what he assumed.

Abel held his head high as he found out about the circumstances of your death.

Apparently, the murderers were only meant to rough you up a bit and dump you just outside city limits, in a particularly snowy area.

But as you tried to run away, one of the goons tried to shoot a warning shot to get you to stop.

The bullet hit you in the Achilles tendon.

You collapsed into the dense snow instantly, crying out in pain.

In fear of getting arrested, the shooters fled, leaving you to bleed in the snow.

You died of hypothermia. You could’ve been saved.

That’s what hurt Abel the worst.

If your killers had just tried, they could’ve brought you to the hospital. But instead, they’re now awaiting a trial and eventual imprisonment.

But because they confessed, and it was an accidental death, they would be able to have parole, they could walk free one day.

To Abel, they deserved to rot in prison forever. But he didn’t have the right to oppose the judge, not when your family had already accepted the punishment.

Abel paid for the funeral, and there he saw you for the last time.

I’m sorry this happened… I’ll take care of your family from now on. I promise…

—————————————————

Brb sobbing in the club rn…

For real though, thank you for reading!

Feel free to send over any requests/suggestions

[greenqueenhightower]

A Paradise Lost Reading of the Alicent x Aemond and Helaena x Aegon Scenes in 2x05:

As Gwayne and Criston parade Meleys' head through the streets of King's Landing, Alicent and Aemond are high up on the Red Keep's walls. The scene is infested with religious imagery. Satan took Christ up to "a pinnacle of the temple" in Jerusalem during his temptation (Matthew 4:5). As the shot gradually zooms in to Alicent and Aemond looking down on the parade, it reminded me of a passage from John Milton's Paradise Lost, where Archangel Michael (Christ) takes Adam on top of the "Hill of Paradise" to reveal the aftermath of his sin to mankind.

"So both ascend in the Visions of God: It was a Hill Of Paradise the highest, from whose top The Hemisphere of Earth in clearest view stretched out to amplest reach of prospect lay." [Book XI, 376-380]

From this elevated vantage point, Adam, much like Alicent, was offered a panoramic view of his son's body, Abel's, who lay slain in a pool of blood. Alicent gets to glimpse her son Aegon's body as he is laid in a horse carriage covered with rags and brought back to her.

"Adam, now open thine eyes, and first behold th' effects which thy original crime hath wrought [...] from that sin derive Corruption to bring forth more violent deeds." [Book XI, 423-428]

The angel beckons Adam to open his eyes and comprehend the act of violence before him. Alicent does the same. She examines Aemond's face for answers. Has he become the embodiment of violence to the extent that he would burn his own brother to achieve his ends? Have her own actions somehow led to this? Is her original crime of wanting Aegon on the throne being retributed through her sons' rivalry?

As she surveys Aemond's countenance, she is worried about any future escalation of brutality and violence. Does she expect more atrocities to come her way as a form of punishment?

"These two are Brethren, Adam, and to come out of thy loins; th' unjust the just hath slain, for envy" [Book XI, 444-446]

Alicent quickly discerns Aemond's possible involvement in whatever predicament has befallen her other son. As she watches Aegon and Aemond, does she wonder how their contention was germinated? Did she who gave birth to both, also give birth to their fate?

Aemond stands beside her, a saint or a devil in disguise, dressed in his Green Hightower outfit, his brother's dagger on his waist. Like Cain, Aemond yearns to please his mother and seeks to claim what belongs to Abel-Aegon. He has already managed to salvage and claim something from the pyre and that wasn't his brother's body, but his dagger. Cain was moved by envy for his brother's privileges. Is the same force now guiding Aemond?

"Much at that sight was Adam in his heart dismayed [...] Is Piety thus and pure Devotion paid?" [Book XI, 448-452]

Alicent takes a closer look at the carriage bearing Aegon's body. There is fear and uncertainty in her eyes, while Aemond appears composed. Is he wearing his poised assuredness as a facade to conceal his growing distress?

Alicent's dejected expression reveals her inner turmoil. Much like Adam, she too is dismayed by the possibility that one of her sons is dead, and the other is responsible. How did a life of duty, sacrifice, piety, and devotion lead to this? How wasn't she able to prevent it?

"Alas, both for the deed and for the cause! O sight of terror, foul and ugly to behold, horrid to think, how horrible to feel!" [Book XI, 461-465]

Alicent gives one last glare to Aemond before she departs. She is afraid of him and what he has become: another dangerous and violent man in her life. Does the sight of him so much repulse her or does she find the mere thought of him as a kinslayer unbearable?

As Alicent leaves to tend to Aegon whose life might be over, Aemond is left alone on that vantage point. His battle impulses having cooled down, does he now perhaps get to see the bigger picture of what he attempted to do? Does he feel some remorse over the act that he buries deep within because it is too horrible to feel it, too foul and ugly to let it show?

"Death thou hast seen in his first shape on man; but many shapes of Death, and many are the ways that lead to his grim Cave, all dismal" [Book XI, 466-469]

The coffin that carries Aegon like Death that carries Cain in Paradise Lost, is transported through various rooms. As he is being slowly led to the King's room that will soon become his reclusive cave, Aegon's ascension up the stairs mirrors Helaena who climbed them up in 2x02, after Jaehaerys' funeral. At that time, they did not speak but exchanged a glance of mutual understanding. This time, it is Aegon who finds Helaena at the top of the stairs, waiting for him.

"Yet to sense more terrible at th' entrance than within. Some, as thou sawest, by violent stroke shall die, by Fire" [Book XI, 470-472]

Did Helaena foresee Aegon's predicament in one of her many visions? Has she penned his new deformed shape in one of her sketches on the walls? Without uttering a word, Helaena understands what befell Aegon. She knows he has been burned by dragonfire. Once again, words are redundant; just a look is enough.

"So must thou live, till like ripe Fruit thou drop [...] in thy blood will reign a melancholy damp of cold and dry to weigh thy spirits down, and last consume the Balme of Life" [Book XI, 535-546]

And yet, as she stares at Aegon who is taken into the King's chamber, Helaena offers a small glimpse into her psyche. She cannot help but worry for him, but maybe she already knows that his life is not in danger. Maybe she already knows that he will survive longer than her. Will his maiming further contribute to her melancholy and spiral her to madness? Will she completely break an already frail Aegon to pieces when she takes her own life?

One thing is certain: he and she will never be the same.

Her whole family has been abruptly kicked out of the Garden of Eden, and the pangs of suffering have begun. Any Paradise they could have had is lost forever.

And she knew this was coming all along.

[vittacorle]

if I love you, is that a fact or a weapon?

'the red girl' from 'the bread we eat in dreams' by catherynne m. valente || 'wuthering heights' litjoy special edition Illustrated by felix abel klaer aka superstarfighter || 'i’ve got you under my skin' @ezrul-00 || 'romance or the end' by elaine kahn || 'the haunting of bly manor' (lyrics from 'midnight show': a part of the killers' 'murder trilogy') gif credit @scarychristmas || sandarafreedompark  (via wnq-writers) || 'the hunger games: the ballad of songbirds and snakes' directed by francis lawrence || 'the hanging tree' from 'mockingjay' by suzanne collins || 'wuthering heights' litjoy special edition cover Illustrated by superstarfighter || 'i swear, next time i’ll see you i’ll be funny' from 'in a dream you saw a way to survive' by clementine von radics || coriolanus snow x lucy gray baird @maeroemer || 'i'm not calling you a liar' by florence + the machine || 'star wars: revenge of the sith' gif credit @dani-clayton || c.c. aurel || 'the musketeers' [S01E010] gif credit @thewildmother || 'hunger' from 'dark. sweet.: new & selected poems' by linda hogan || 'dinner & diatribes' music video by hozier || 'the ballad of songbirds and snakes' by suzanne collins || rachel zegler & tom blyth on the set of 'tbosas' via twitter || 'syringa' by john ashbery.

happy xmas month @janeaustenlover!

[soft-persephone]

I Will Be Your End pt. 2

Vampire!Abel Morales x Vampire!F!Reader x Vampire!Fontaine x reader

Oscar Isaac x Reader x John Boyega

MDNI // Part One // Explicit // warnings: descriptions of blood l, gore, mention of abuse, fantastical non con but no R word or SA // masterlist

“I think you’ve made up your mind.” Shante said sadly.

“I think I have.” You added with finality.

At that moment Abel and Ghezo walked in.

Abel was still upset, but his anger had subsided.

You rushed over to him. Cupping his face and looking into his eyes.

“I’m fine.” He sighed and patted your hand on his cheek before slowly lowering it, not letting go. He clasped your hands tighter together as they fell by your sides.

“I think it’s time we made our leave.”

Leto nodded, and you both left. Hand in hand.

The crowd had died down, but the music was still thumping. The bass booming as you got your coats at the door.

Abel skipped the vallet and you both walked. Where you were going you didn’t know. You couldn’t bring yourself to care either.

The moon was a crescent. A small sliver of white and silver, the air unforgivably cold. Abel let you clasp your arm in his as you both faced the night together.

“You’re planning to kill him?” He asked calmly. Like he wanted to know what you wanted for dinner.

“I am.”

He nodded, bouncing his head from side to side, weighing the pros and cons in his head.

“If you kill him, I can’t have you stay with me.”

He stopped walking, and so did you.

You looked into his eyes. What once brought you warmth was now chilling you to the bone. The moon is a far away thing. The sun may give it a glow, but it’s just dark rock far away in space for no one to see, but even then did it have an even colder, darker side.

“I guess that’s how it will be then.”

Abel’s jaw clenched. Closing his eyes, he turned away from you for just a moment.

When he opened them, he also opened his mouth to reply, but then he froze.

“Wh—“

“— they’re still on your neck?”

You scrunch your eyes in confusion. “What are you—“

“— why are they still on your neck?” Abel raised his voice. “The- where he bit you! Why are the holes still on your neck? Every other wound, scar, or bruise will heal as soon as you want it to, but you hold on to these?” He seethes at you, grabbing your arm.

You paused.

“Oh.”

“Answer me!” He hissed. His eyes were glowing, frantic and crazed as he looked at you.

You wanted to run your hands through his hair.

“I was thinking about looking at them in the mirror. I didn’t know I could control whether they stayed or not.”

He bristled, not exactly calming down, but he didn’t get angrier either.

“Do you know what I’ve been thinking this whole time?”

You shook your head. Not wanting to interrupt him.

“I can’t get the image of you and another vampire out of my mind. How you looked at him and how he looked at you! How you let his hands touch every inch of you and how you clearly wanted to touch every inch of him. His mouth on your skin!”

He threw his hands up. Taking a step away from you before whirling to face you once more.

“As soon as we stepped outside I wanted to drag you into that alley!”

“Abel—“

“Shut up!” He pushed you Into the wall of whatever building you two were in front of.

“I wanted to bite over whatever holes you wouldn’t let go of until they were ripped and raw. I wanted to compel you to not let them heal, so I could watch the ripped holes of your flesh bleed out and out. The tender meat of your neck and collar mangled by my mouth and my mouth alone.”

He was panting now. His voice softer.

“I wanted to erase him from you and claim you as my own. . . But you’d hate me for it. You would have never forgiven me, and vowed to kill me just like you do this other vampire called Fontaine.”

You watched his eyes frantically search your face as his chest heaved up and down.

“You’re right.” You swallowed. “I would have.”

You slowly raised your hand to his cheek and he nuzzled into your hand, briefly touching it with his lips. Tentatively, you brought it to his hair.

With a smile you sighed.

His hair was so soft. It was softer than anything you could have imagined. He closed his eyes as you ran your fingers through his hair over and over again, savoring the feeling.

“Thank you.” You whispered softly.

He opened his eyes. Much calmer now.

“Anytime.” The cold air made his breath visible as it fawned into the air over your face.

“I’m not going to stop you. I just want to make sure you really know what you’re getting yourself into.”

“I know.” You sighed.

He nodded, stepping away from the building and off of you. He let out a hand to keep you from stumbling back into the sidewalk.

“Let’s go home where it’s warm.”

-

“She said that?” Fontaine swallowed and sat down.

Slick was wincing as he stood, waiting for Fontaine to throw something.

“She did.” Yoyo fiddled with her hands in front of her.

“But did you not hear the other shit I said. About the doppelganger's and prophecy?”

“Now let’s not put the horses first before the carriage just yet. We don’t know for sure if it’s a prophecy.”

“Like hell we don’t!”

“Shut, the fuck, up.” Fontaine glared at them one by one.

“Either way, I think it’s time I go over there and find her before she finds me.”

Yo-yo started talking about what he should and shouldn’t do, and He was sure that as Slick opened his mouth to agree with whatever Yo-yo was saying, but

Fontaine waved them both off and with a hand walked out the door without saying a word.

Looking at the sky he sighed.

He might have five more hours left of moonlight before he needed to get inside somewhere. That was plenty of time for a heed start.

Stuffing his hands in his jacket pockets, he started heading out.

Every other person gave him some sort of smile or greeting. Not aware that he was going to be gone for some time.

Was it this time of night when you left him?

It’s only been a few hours since your tie to the clan was gone. There wasn't a big boom or some large wave of energy. Just a small trickle of something going away, forever.

He can’t let it go out like that.

Everyone demanded to know why.

Who is this girl Fontaine? Why did you bring her here? Why did you turn her?

He wanted to explain, he tried to, but even Yo-yo didn’t understand, so he just stopped explaining. He stopped talking about it.

He wished he could explain the way his mind was screaming at him, or maybe it was his soul burning, eating him alive from the inside out until he turned you.

An explainable force, or maybe his own selfishness was just that strong,

Fontaine shook his head and sighed.

No point in focusing on the past.

Reaching into his mind he looked over the memories Yo-yo had showed him a week ago of when she followed your path to New York and the trail of bodies you left.

It’s not possible for you to be stronger than him. You had only been turned ten years ago, and you fought the process so hard.

He tugged his jacket a little harder as the chill of the night started to settle further into his bones. His thoughts drifted to the first time he met you.

He remembered seeing you at that party around your friends. A literal light seemed to shine out of you, making you stand out amongst every person.

He couldn't help but stare at you as you bounded to and fro.

Even talking to you felt like a song in his ears. Like you were some witch putting him under a spell. Outside of your own aura, you made him feel seen. Truly and utterly seen.

When he turned he didn’t know what to do, and everything was so hectic and chaotic.

He was turned and had no idea. He remembered how he suffered. How scared and painful it was, but only for one day. He quickly made his way.

But stumbling around town one night, no one missed him. No one asked about him or wondered where he was. His so-called friends only acted as if he’d been shut in his house, keeping to himself for no reason at all.

Only the homeless old man outside the liquor store seemed to notice.

He pushed away the thoughts of everything that came next.

He hated thinking about finding out his life was a lie. That everyone had been turned and compelled to forget, so they can be observed like a big colony of fucking lab rats.

In a large field of grass, there were stray lines of paint and stray pieces of yellow tape.

Yo-yo had pulled up an article saying it was an animal attack. They all knew it was something else.

You were here.

Finding a tree with more than enough shade, he stumbled down underneath it and out his back to the trunk. Looking up, he watched the wind rustle the leaves.

Daylight would come soon.

He closed his eyes, continuing to think of you.

He wished he could take it back. The pain that is.

When he saw you and you talked to him, something in him started screaming.

He knew if he didn’t turn you, the screaming wouldn't stop. The buzzing underneath his skin would grow and grow and drive him crazy until he found you again.

He had to turn you. He didn’t know how or why, but he knew he was supposed to.

As soon as his lips touched your skin, he came to terms with the idea of you hating him. You’d hate him, but you’d still be with him. He could find a way to gain your trust, somehow make amends with you and beg for some type of forgiveness later, but at least he’d have you.

But once he turned you and took you somewhere safe to transition. Before he could even get the chance to make yours less painful and lovely as his, you fought every step of the process. You ended up in a coma, rejecting every little change to your body.

Everyone expected you to die.

But he couldn’t. He didn’t lose hope, he had to hope.

Because accepting a world where he killed you forever to be lost, is not one he could have accepted, so he’d hope.

But now. . .

He sighed.

He’d make it right. He didn’t know how, but by everything on this raft he’d find a way to make it right. There was nothing else to live for. There was no purpose. Everyone in the Glenn was free to do whatever they wanted to do.

So he’d focus his eternity of death, to begging for your forgiveness. . . . On you.

On quiet moments like this, if he’d closed his eyes and concentrated on you, he could hear your voice. He could feel your energy.

You thought of him sometimes. He could feel the anger and pain, your fury. But it would pitter out into nothing and then you’d be gone.

“Is he still alive?” Fontaine didn’t know that voice.

“Yes.” You huffed, closing a book and tossing it to the end of the bed.

“You don’t sound disappointed.”

Fontaine scrunched his brow and frowned.

He wasn’t in the woods anymore. He was in a bed, lying on top of plush cream sheets.

He opened his eyes and saw you.

Your large natural hair and how it fanned across your features and shaped your face. Your big brown eyes and how they seemed to grow bigger with adoration and fondness for the man on the other side of you.

“I won’t say anything to convince you, but you already know how I feel.”

There was another man on the other side of you. Tan skin and a dark head of hair. He looked rich. This bedroom looked like it belonged to a man that could buy the whole Glenn if he wanted.

Someone who doesn’t know they even exist and would probably never give a fuck about them either.

“What would you say to him,” you almost got up, but Abel put a hand on your shoulder, “I’m not telling you to actually do it. I’m just creating a hypothetical question.”

You sighed, and settled back down to the bed, snuggling closer to the strange rich man’s side.

Away from him.

He swallowed and momentarily licked his lips.

“If he was here right now,” Fontaine looked over to him and met his eyes. Briefly flashing an old yellow gold. Fontaine kept the same face, puffing his chest and clenching his jaw a bit, “what would you say to him.”

The had you had comfortably placed on his chest started to grab and squeeze at the fabric of his shirt.

“Why?” You huffed out a breath and sucked it back in a little too quickly, causing your voice to crack and Fontaine’s heart to break. “Why me? Why this way?”

“Fuck you!” You sobbed now, burying your face into his chest. “Fuck you for doing this to me! For taking me away from my family, for ruining my life!”

Fontaine woke up with a start. The air was hot.

The sun glaring just a few feet away from him outside the shade of the tree.

He closed his eyes and pushed away the feelings that were starting to rise within him. Ignoring that he had no idea how to make this right.

-

Fontaine’s eyes snapped open at the smell of blood. The chill of his own power coursed through his veins. The cold tendrils of his magic was something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get used to.

But it was fitting.

Before he ever had an ounce of magic, when he didn’t know his entire existence was a lie, he was often accused of icing people out, that he was too cold and rigid, never letting anyone in, that he was standoffish and rigid in his anger and retaliation. . . But that wasn’t true.

He felt a fire growing within him from the moment he saw you.

He’s been chasing the warmth of your glow that basked over him on your first night together. The heat of your skin burning his, reaching far down in his pores and burning his insides.

He was a moth and you were his flame.

As he followed the scent of blood the magic in his veins caused his pulse to race faster and he started running.

He didn’t know how. He couldn’t prove or explain it, but he knew you’d be near it. That when he got to the source of the blood, he’d see you.

He just needed to see you.

The trees were getting thicker, and the smell was stronger. He slowed down, stepping carefully in case you decided to run if you saw him. . . Or worse.

The man from the vision thing was there. He was wearing a long wool coat and suit. He rolled his eyes as he remembered the useless details about his wardrobe that Slick went on and on about.

A cigarette loose in between his fingers, he bit into the neck of a young light skinned man. Full figured and thick hair. He could see his face clearly despite how far he was standing. He had his vampire instinct magic bullshit to thank for that.

His heart swelled as he watched you standing to the side. Despite the situation, he smiled.

You were wearing baggy jorts and an oversized Nike shirt, he knew you paid way too much for. If he remembered correctly that was one of your dream pieces of clothing and from the off white cream sneakers you wore, you got your dream pair of shoes to match. You told him you were too scared of baggy clothing. You feared it made you look bigger then you actually were or sloppy or some shit like that.

This man though, this other man you been with had some typa money.

He smacked his teeth.

He could have copped all that and more for you if you let him.

“Wait,” the man held out a hand as you leaned in too close to him and the boy, well boy might too harsh, but Fontaine wasn’t exactly thrilled about your relationship with this stranger and whatever the fuck you were getting up to without him, “take a step back.”

You smacked your teeth and then groaned into the air. The gold in your mouth twinkling underneath the moonlight.

His heart stopped.

You kept them.

The air around Fontaine grew chilly, frost starting to form in the grass and leaves underneath his feet, and it’s not because it was in the middle of winter on the east coast.

“Pleaaase, hurry up Abel.” You begged. “You said I could start feeding again.

Fontaine didn’t know too much about being a vampire, but he knew the signs of overeating. And you had more than enough over the last few months. It’s not too soon to start eating again, but with a strict schedule and guidance, it might not.

Who the fuck does this guy think he is?

Abel paused, taking a step back from the human and gave you a hard look.

“It’s not too late to go home and call it a night.” Taking one last drag from the cigarette in his hand, he put it out on the human’s skin, but instead of protesting or crying out in pain he sounded like he. . . enjoyed it.

Fontaine wanted to be here a little less now.

What kind of freaky messed up shit was this? Did you like this? Are you even into this kinda shit?

“Abel, please.” Your eyes were wide now, pupils so large and black Fontaine swore he could see the moon reflecting off of them. Your lips pouting as your wide button nose scrunched up from the cold.

“You aren’t some fucking wild animal with instincts and a dumb fucking brain. You are a vampire,” Abel growled at you with bared fangs, “act like it.”

He sighed. Balling his fist. “Reach deep down within you, that fucking hunger, that urge to just devour,” he looked into your eyes, hard.

You nodded. Mouth closed.

“Control it. Fight it.”

He bit into the boys next.

The sound of Abel's teeth breaking into his skin sounded like a grape snapping, when he chomped his jaw and sucked the sounds of flesh mushing and wrangling outside of its natural state were the only sounds they could hear, amplified with their supernatural hearing abilities.

He moaned as Abel began to suck the blood from his body, one, two to three seconds before he licked at some of the blood that was rapidly falling out of the gaping gash on his neck.

You licked your lips and swallowed.

“You're doing so well Jay.”

Jay kept his eyes closed. “Really?” He asked meekly, probably unaware of just how much blood was leaving his body.

You have a pointed look at Abel and he gave you one to match. Fontaine had no idea what was goin on because neither one of you we’re saying anything.

Abel took a few steps over to a tree. Keeping his eyes on you and Jay.

“Wait.” Was all he said.

As the silence stretched in the clearing of the forest, snow began to fall. Decorating the crimson in a backdrop of white.

Abel nodded and you were on Jay in an instant.

Not even thinking of removing your grill, you dove right in. Placing your mouth over the mangled ripped marks on his neck that Abel had left. There was no need for you to have to bite him, but Jay seemed just as satisfied.

“That’s enough.” Abel’s voice was barely above a whisper, but you immediately pulled off of Jay and stopped.

You froze, waiting.

Nothing.

You looked up to Abel with a smile.

“I did it!”

“I told you, you could do it.” He smiled softly, letting out a breath of relief through his nose.

He walked over to you, his footsteps crunching in the snow, and placed a hand on either side of your face, smiling from ear to ear.

You gave him a smile too match and his face faltered for a second.

Then he kissed you.

Fontaine's heart stopped cold as he watched him nudge your mouth open with his as his hands slid up your sides to the back of your neck as his tongue slipped into yours. Hating, how you two seemed to be sharing the taste of Jay’s blood off of one another.

“Wait,” Abel stopped breathlessly, biting his wrist he shoved it a little too quickly and strongly into Jay’s mouth, almost knocking him over. Jay cried out a little but took one suck and shoved his wrist away. “You're alright, son.” Abel patted him on the back as he dry heaved over the snow.

“It’s always so gross!” He sucked in a large breath of air, “every time!”

Fishing his hand into his pocket he gave you a small smile before presenting a large wad of cash towards you.

“T-t-thank you.” He looked at Abel who only stared at him. He wasn’t glaring, but he had a certain way of holding himself that put people off of him. This strange air of polite superiority that intimated in ways people were unfamiliar with.

“I.. better go.” He gave you one more timid smile before waving and stuffing his hands in his now ripped hoodie pockets, trailing away in the snow.

“Are we like, hookers or something? Did he just give us money like in a sex worker way?”

“No,” Abel raised an eyebrow, “he gave you money like a sex worker or hooker.”

You slapped him, biting your cheek to keep from smiling. “We should have taken him home.” Was all you said.

“Hell be fine.” Abel huffed softly, the cold air making his breath form a small white cloud in your face, making you smile even wider.

“Maybe—“

“You been a good bitch for your new master?” Fontaine gave you a crooked cruel smile.

It was one thing to see another man kiss you, but the way you were smiling at him? The way you looked at this other man like he was the world? That you trusted him with everything? When you looked at him as if he was your safe place? That. He could not take.

He was about to yell out how this new man was your new pimp, but he was unprepared with how fast you flung your entire body at him.

He was unprepared for your hands to almost ring around his neck and pop it off his shoulders, but he already had your hands in front of him in an iron grip as he moved to the side and let you grab his arm.

“Huh,” he laughed bitterly in your face, “you really do wanna kill me, huh?”

“And I fucking can too.”

Fontaine wanted to keep fighting you, for you to keep yelling at him because if he couldn’t get you to love him, he’d be happy to have you hate him. Pain or pleasure, happy or sad, at least he was around you.

Your hand hurled toward his face faster than his eyes could naturally perceive so he pulled from his own magic to counterattack, preparing to move just as fast as you, but as time slowed around you two, he could only focus on your face.

Your eyes.

From the corners of your irises, tendrils of purple were swarming the dark natural brown of your eyes, and he froze.

“You’re. . . Purple.”

His words made you miss and stumble.

“What the fuc—“

In a blink, you were gone.

The man in a coat . . . Abel, was the only person left standing in front of him. His chest heaving up and down as he breathed out his mouth. He clenched his jaw before closing his mouth. His gaze was hard and steady.

Fontaine squared his shoulders, but otherwise didn’t move.

“This ain’t about you,” Fontaine fought the urge to bare his teeth, “what we have is between us.”

“Well it becomes about me when a vampire you recently turned comes into my territory claiming it happened without their consent.”

“Aye man. I don’t know wha—“

Abel was on him in an instant. Shoving Fontaine back into the nearest tree, making him cough up blood.

“You’re weak,” Abel spoke through his teeth. Fontaine opened his mouth to say something but Abel only bounced his head off the tree. “I’m not talking about how old you are. I’m talking about how you had one chance to own up to your mistakes and lay everything out on the table with her, but you decided to use pretty fucking words instead.”

He looked into Fontaine's eyes, waiting for him to say something. When he didn’t, he pushed off of him.

“You’re a childish coward.”

“And you’re better?” Fontaine balled his fist when Abel didn’t reply.

“Just because you’re the first fucking thing she ran into while she was running away doesn’t make you better.”

“I don’t know anything about you to hate you. I can barely determine if I even have the energy to think about you.”

“I could say the same thing about you, moutherfucka.”

Abel leveled Fontaine with a look. He was standing rigid and he could tell he was getting on his fucking nerves but he wouldn’t fight him. Most vampires, witches, or whatever else magic bullshit was out there would have tried to hurt him by now.

“I’m sure we both are more than strong enough to snap one another’s necks, but,” Abel’s eyes flashed an old yellow, “I need you. . . She needs you.”

“That’s not what she said last night.” Fontaine shook his head and sat on the snow.

“And I gave you more than enough time to try and fix that, but you’d rather stumble around throwing petty insults with your tail between your legs.”

“Then how. . . “ Fontaine held up his hands out in front of him before sighing, “how do you know she needs me?”

Abel pulled his coat to the side to put his hands into his suit pockets, the cold starting to get to him.

“It’s a prophecy,” Fontaine’s head snapped up and Abel needed to look into the sky, “I’m not good with this magic shit, but I know rules and regulations when I see them.”

“Fucking magic. . .” Fontaine muttered.

“Yeah,” Abel smiled weakly before continuing, “there’s three older vampires who look exactly like us, I think you know one.”

“I’m not talking about it.” Fontaine let his legs fall out straight and he stuffed his hands into his jacket.

“Well, we’re destined to be together, any lifetime, any circumstance, and usually as vampires. We apparently can’t live without one another.”

Fontaine nodded.

“And she wants to kill me.”

“She wants to kill you.”

Fontaine and Abel let the silence stretch between them. Watching the snow fall and cover everything in sight. The moon was large and white and it shined down and gave the forest a picturesque glow.

“Her eyes were purple.”

[qpr-competition]

WELCOME TO THE QPR COMPETITION

the matchups in round 1 are as follows

part 1:

Aziraphale and Crowley from Good Omens vs Peri Dubois and Abel Moreau from Entropic Float

Sonic and Shadow from Sonic the Hedgehog vs Joan Watson and Sherlock Holmes from Elementary

Camilla Hect and Palamedes Sextus from The Locked Tomb series vs Riza Hawkeye and Roy Mustang from Fullmetal Alchemist

John Watson and Sherlock Holmes from ACD's collection of stories vs c!Ranboo and c!Tubbo from Dream SMP

Arthur Lester and John Doe from Malevolent podcast vs Polly and Yaretzi from Hello From The Hallowoods

Abed Nadir and Troy Barnes from Community vs ART and Murderbot from The Murderbot Diaries

Team Rocket from Pokémon vs Mane 6 Ensemble from My Little Pony

Timothy Stoker and Sasha James from The Magnus Archives vs The Doctor and The Master from Doctor Who

part 2:

Jesse Cosay and Lake from Infinity Train vs Joe Tazuna and Sara Chidouin from Your Turn To Die

Miles Edgeworth and Phoenix Wright from Ace Attorney vs Kris and Susie from Deltarune

Oscar Wilde and Zolf Smith from Rusty Quill Gaming vs Mollymauk Tealeaf and Yasha Nydoorin from Critical Role

Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee from Lord Of The Rings vs Loid Forger and Yor Forger from Spy X Family

Hunter and Willow Park from The Owl House vs Arepo and God Of Arepo from Tumblr Folktales

Sakuko Kodama and Satoru Takahashi from Koisenu Futari | Two People Who Can't Fall In Love vs Compton Boole and Cassie O'Pia from Psychonauts

Lapis Lazuli and Peridot from Steven Universe vs Kazuki Kurusu and Rei Suwa from Buddy Daddies

Nepeta Leijon and Equius Zahhak from Homestuck vs The Scooby Gang from Scooby-Doo

see you at 6 pm GMT 17th February for the first half of the first round!

[kafkasapartment]

Cover art by Maurice Whitman. Invasion? story, art by John Belcastro. The Sandhogs of Mars story, art by Maurice Whitman. The Changelings starring Space Rangers, inks by Bernard Sachs. Silence From Planetoid X, art by Bill Discount. Hijack On Alpha-7 story, pencils by Bill Benulis, inks by Jack Abel. 36 pgs.

$0.10.

[flame-writer]

Wolverines Day Out

While Gabbie The HoneyBadger was walking her pet johnathan a group of crazed animal lovers kidnapped Johnathan Gabbie lost there sent so she called in the big guns Since logan has a Often forget ability to basically communicate with animals through sense he was Abel to discover which rescued' animal was Johnathan they don't like each other but they like Gabbie she was just happy to have Johnathan Back logan was ready to crack some skulls, and John he was hungry

I've modified my Skin tones for Gabbie and Laura they will have warmer and less Caucasian skin tones to align more with the og x 23 design and the most popular take on the Charcter where she was Hispanic

[garbinge]

Riding With Angels

Jax Teller x F!Reader

Request by: @justreblogginfics​ Scenario #1 Decorating the tree Dialogue #4: "I know we said no presents this year but..."

A/N: Okay so I’m either 2 months late for a holiday fic OR 10 months early... you decide lol. If you know me, you know I can’t write anything without making it angsty. This can be read as a standalone but is meant to be a continuation of Home. Thank you for submitting this... I had a really great time brainstorming this up and writing it!!!

Word Count: 4.1k words

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of content. Cursing, angst, mentions of death, car/motorcycle accidents. Canon-level angst. 

SOA Taglist: @drabbles-mc (happy to add anyone to any future SOA fics!)

The atmosphere had everything going for it to be the perfect holiday evening. There was Christmas music playing lightly in the background, the kids and you had baked cookies and attempted to make gingerbread houses during the day. You had started to hang up some string lights throughout the windows in the house, but currently you were staring at the tree. Abel was dancing around the fake pine roping tinsel around it as Thomas was picking through the storage bin of Christmas items with likely no thoughts but what would taste good. It was a picture perfect moment, but you couldn’t help but miss Jax. You hoped the kids didn’t feel the absence of their father as much as you did but unfortunately that wasn’t the case. A little hand tugged at your shirt, the motion caused you to shake yourself from your thoughts and look down at Abel. 

“When’s daddy coming home?” 

The question left a weight on you. Your eyes moved over to the clock that sat above the entryway table. 8:17PM. It was technically still early, you thought, even though you knew you were kidding yourself. You always found yourself in this position, waiting on Jax. You were brought back to reality when the doorbell rang. 

“Daddy will hopefully be home soon, baby.” You picked him up to offer a little bit of comfort to the kid before making your way to the door. 

“Is that him?” Abel said as the doorknob turned. Gemma appeared through the door with her keys in hand. “Grandma!” he called out and wiggled out of your grip. 

Gemma hugged the boy as he collided with her while you went to grab Thomas to say hello. 

“Sorry to drop by unexpectedly,” Gemma said as she made her way to the living room. 

“Are you?” You subtly snapped. 

Gemma looked at you with annoyance and a little shock in her eyes. It wasn’t like you to act like that, while you had your opinions on Gemma, especially after reading John Teller’s manuscript, you never showed your cards to her. It honestly had nothing to do with being scared of her, which is what Gemma probably thought, it had to do with the kids, with Jax, the family you built together and the plans you and Jax had for the future, not showing your true thoughts and feelings was for that reason only. And even with all of that in mind, you did love the woman, just not her choices in life. But at this moment, you were taking out your anger on Jax and the club on Gemma. 

You quickly responded “I’m sorry, I’m in a mood.” 

“Rare for you.” The statement usually would have been sarcastic out of the older woman’s mouth but she meant it, because you always were able to put on a face. Before you could continue to talk, Abel was dragging both you and Gemma into the living room begging for you to help with the tree decorating. 

Your eyes were focused on the dish in front of you. It was sparkling clean but you were scrubbing furiously as a way to get your frustration out. The kids were in the living room still with Gemma, you weren’t sure if they were still decorating the tree or had moved on to something else, but as long as Gemma had them under her supervision, your mind couldn’t bring itself to focus on that. You took the opportunity to be by yourself and be upset, you didn’t like showing that to the kids, between that and everything with Gemma you felt like there were rare and few times in between that you could be your true self. If anything, Jax was really the only person you were your true self with and with him being MIA more often than not these days made you feel like you were losing a part of yourself. Which is why you were taking it out on the dishes. You hated the fact you were losing yourself over a boy. And yes, you understood it was deeper than that. It wasn’t just a boy. It was your family. But nothing took the sting of that away. 

“Looks pretty clean to me.” Gemma’s voice sounded from behind you.

You took a large sigh and looked back at her over your shoulder. “Where are the kids?”

“Playing in the living room, Abel wanted to wait till Jax came home to finish the tree.” Gemma said, leaning against the counter with her arms crossed. 

You mumbled under your breath, something that Gemma didn’t hear but she definitely understood what was happening.

“You gonna keep sulking or tell me what’s on that pretty lil mind of yours.”

You kept your mouth shut and moved back to a different dish in the sink, you weren’t going to entertain her on this because she wasn’t approaching the situation from a place with care, she was being nosy. 

“You know that ring on your finger doesn’t change anything.” 

And apparently now she was being mean. You stopped dead in your tracks, your eyes moved down to your left hand where the silver engagement band glistened under the running water. 

“It’s the same Jax. Same club. Same ways of working. There’s gonna be late nights, sweetheart, that’s why you’re here, for the kids, for the house, you keep the foundation solid and they bring the money home for you to keep things solid. The ring doesn’t change that, if anything it makes it more prevalent.”

Boiling. Your blood was boiling. Now your thoughts of losing yourself were being taunted by the thought of being just a housewife, just someone’s old lady. 

Gemma might have been right in her time, even if the irony of the fact that she had never been one to sit on the sidelines, she might as well be patched with the sway she had on the men in the club, Jax included. 

“You realize you’re lecturing me because I’m upset Jax wasn’t here to decorate the tree with his kids.”  You turned to her, you started out the night giving her attitude and you weren’t going to stop now. “You talk about keeping this solid,” you waved your hands around the room, “how do I do that when my kids are asking about Jax all day long?”

“Your kids?” Gemma smiled.

You turned around again back to facing the sink and shook your head. “Why do you start these conversations when you just want to argue, your goal in this is to just come out on top. Those ARE my kids, Gemma. I feed them, I spend my days with them, my nights with them, I placed them in the best schools, best daycares, they call me mom for fucks sake.”

Gemma walked over to you, in a Teller attempt to apologize and clarify herself. 

“Those ARE your kids.” She said, “It’s just shocking to hear you say it.” 

“Shocking?” you turned realizing now, how close she was to you. 

“You’re very hard to read, you know.” She cocked an eyebrow up. 

That made you laugh, “I know what you’re saying, about keeping things solid, but you out of all people should know that it's different when they’re at the position they’re in. I’m not just a Son’s old lady. I’m the VPs old lady. I’m Jax Teller’s old lady.” 

“You aren’t just marrying the man, baby. You’re marrying the club.” 

Those words weighed heavy on you. You weren’t marrying the club. You and Jax had long conversations about leaving the club which is why you were feeling how you felt. Everything felt backwards, he was spending long nights doing club things, it seemed like he was getting deeper in the club when he was promising you that he was getting out. But in Gemma’s eyes that was fact so you quickly flipped a switch. 

“You’re right, sorry Gem. Just the holidays and stuff make it harder, you know.” You shrugged and dried your hands off. 

“C’mon, let’s get back to the boys.” Gemma tried to move past this whole conversation like nothing happened. 

“I’m gonna make myself a cup of coffee, I’ll meet you there in a minute.” You said with the best smile you could. 

You made your way to the kitchen table with your cup of coffee. Slamming your head against the table seemed like a viable option right now, but instead you opted to rub your temples. 

The door opened, causing your head to jerk up to see who it was. Even though there was only one person left who it could be, it was still surprising to see Jax at the door. Opie was behind him, both of them looking like they had the longest night of their life. Abel’s voice filled the entire house as he screamed in joy. 

“DADDY!!!!” His little feet making quick stomping noises as they darted toward his father. 

A smile grew on Jax’s face immediately, he bent down to catch Abel in his arms. At this point, Jax was already past the opening in the entryway that led to the kitchen, leaving you unnoticed in the kitchen. 

“Someone was waiting for you to come home so you could decorate the tree.” Gemma’s voice was low but you heard it. Your anger boiled in your throat again, that wasn’t for Gemma to tell, that was for you to tell, but you didn’t even get greeted in your own home yet so what did you honestly expect. 

Opie looked into the kitchen, his eyes taking in the scene of you. Clocking your frustration straight away, he called to Jax and nodded his head into the kitchen. Jax’s head peaked in and his expression dropped seeing you at the table. With a deep sigh, he entered the kitchen. 

“You want a cup of coffee?” Your feet were pushing up from your seat and making their way to the coffee machine before you could think, you knew that one hug from Jax and you’d be pushed over yet again. 

“I wanted to say hello to my wife.” You could hear how he was trying to work you in the tone of his voice. 

“Fiancé.” You corrected him and handed him a mug. 

His eyebrows raised, and a smirk played on his face. “I stand corrected.” A hand moved up in surrender while the other one gripped the coffee mug. 

You could hear Gemma and the boys playing together and Opie’s voice with them too. Now that was rare. Opie barely played with his own kids let alone Jax’s, which got you going down the rabbit hole of what that meant and how if Jax’s best friend could so easily dive back into the club after being so against it, was that what was happening with Jax. 

“What’s going on with you?” He asked genuinely. 

“What’s not going on, Jax? It’s fucking Christmas time and you’re barely home,” you paused to whisper your next sentence, “you told me you were done with this shit and now you’re deeper in than ever and you’re pushing me out, I don’t know anything that’s happening.” 

Jax understood your pain, but he wasn’t going to subject you to the club dramatics, he knew what he had to do to get out and he was doing it, despite what it might have looked like. 

“I’m sticking to our plan” His voice was firm. 

You shook your head and rolled your eyes. “Our plan.” You laughed like that actually meant something. 

“Darlin’.” He was getting annoyed but trying to meet you halfway or somewhere.

“No, Jax. This isn’t something you can just sweet talk your way out of. This is our fucking life.” 

“Do you trust me?” He said, stepping towards you. 

“Less and less everyday.” You said truthfully and it pained his heart but he did understand. “But, yes. I do.” 

Jax peered into the living room, seeing Gemma in deep conversation with Opie. 

“You out of all people should know why I can’t just leave, why I have to leave everything in a good place. This was the last thing my dad had. I didn’t get a house or some real estate investment when he died,  this is what he left me. The club was his and I can’t just let it die because I want out.”

There was so much to argue with what he said, you read that manuscript and even though JT had blueprinted a way for the club to earn legit, you also knew that he ended it wanting to burn it all down. Jax believed that was just a desperate man angry at the world who knew he was on borrowed time, but you knew it was the writing of a man who had exhausted every option. The only reason you didn’t have it in you to say that to Jax was because you got it. This was what bonded you two. This was how you met and got to talking all those years ago…bonding over dead fathers and the irony of how they both had gone from motorcycle accidents. That day you met in the Harley shop, you both stood in the plaque aisle getting something to honor them. The very thing that glued you two together was the very thing tearing you apart.

You understood the pain of trying to live in their honor, do things to carry out their legacy. In fact, it was probably why you were so eager to get out of this horror of a town. But the same very thing is what was keeping Jax here. 

“I know I didn’t know JT, but, I can’t imagine he’d want you drowning, Jax. Exhausting your options is exactly what he did, there becomes a point where you have to recognize that before you end up like both of our fathers...” 

“Riding with Angels.” He finished your sentence looking at the two plaques that had brought you two together that hung in the kitchen. “That’s not gonna happen. Please, that’s why Opie’s here, I briefed him on everything tonight, I’m gonna give him JT’s book and just it’s gonna be fine, I need you to believe that.” Jax was begging you. 

Looking into his eyes, you saw he needed that faith. You thought back to what Gemma had said, that you need to be solid, be the foundation and keep things stable at home. Hating to admit it, but she was right. Even though she had no clue what was truly happening, she was right. And you hated that. 

But there was nothing you could do, and that’s what you hated even more. 

Feeling defeated, you stepped towards him, letting your hand raise and sit on the left side of his kutte, your fingers lightly swiping over the redwood original patch. Slowly your hand moved down to  grip his arm that was holding the coffee mug, your gaze moved up to his eyes, blue as ever, you wished you could get lost in them like you used to, before looking into Jax’s eyes felt like euphoria, it felt like young and wild passion, but lately it felt like you were drowning, looking into them was like a high tide pulling you back in deeper and deeper each time until you were drowning. And they did, because as you looked into them, you gave up and let the waves of baby blue take you in. “Tell your mom to go home, give Opie the manuscript, and decorate the tree with me and the kids.” You demanded those three things, if you were going to give him another chance you at least needed to feel like you were in charge. “I’ll be in the bedroom, waiting, I can’t look at either of them right now.” 

Truthfully, you would have said that about anyone associated with the club. You felt defeated, broken, and like you had lost the biggest game of tug o war. Realizing the club took priority over you was a reality that slapped you across the face every time and looking at Gemma and Opie was just pouring salt into that wound.

He tried to smile down at you, trying to offer compassion even though truthfully he was glad that a fight didn’t escalate and he had the opportunity to show you he had everything under control.

You escaped to the bedroom, not even glancing up to Opie and Gemma as you walked down the hallway, their eyes were burning into you but still you didn’t even look through your peripheral vision. 

As you stood in your shared bedroom, part you thought to pack your shit up and leave, you could go through the window, take only what you needed and just leave it all behind. You stared at the open closet where your suitcase sat, it was covered by Jax’s duffel, the irony behind it all. Before you could have a thought more, you felt a tug at your pants. As you looked down into the little eyes that were staring back up at you, every thought of leaving escaped you. There was a slight giggle out of his mouth as he tucked his head into you. A pang of guilt hit you for a moment, that you even thought about leaving. If Jax’s eyes were the high tide drowning you, Abel’s were the breath of fresh air to save you. 

“Daddy says to come out to the tree.” The boy hid his face again with a giggle.

“Oh, really? Are we going to finish decorating it all together?” You asked bending down to his level. 

“He said Santa gave him something to give to you.” 

“Santa, huh? I can’t believe daddy knows Santa!” You teased the boy, he laughed and pulled your arm because he seemed eager to see what it was. “Come on, let’s go.” You said picking him up and walking out to the living room. 

Jax had been placing ornaments on the tree with Thomas who was trying to pull them off. 

“I hear Santa gave you a gift for me.” Your voice had changed, it wasn’t as lively as it was when you talked with Abel but it also wasn’t as rigid as when you were talking to Jax. Somewhere in the middle of that was where you were now. 

Jax smiled, and bent down to grab a black bag that was under the tree. "I know we said no presents this year but...Santa doesn’t listen.” Jax smirked as he handed the package over to you. “Santa also didn’t have time to wrap it.” He smiled, his grin was shit eating and if he didn’t have Thomas in his arms you would have pushed him back slightly but you just shook your head and took the black bag in your free hand, the one that didn’t have Abel. 

It was a pretty big package, decently heavy. You placed Abel down, he started decorating the tree, handing ornaments up to Jax and Thomas as you stared at the bag. 

“You gonna open it or what?” Jax asked, still grinning. 

“Open it! Open it!” Abel jumped up and down. 

With a deep sigh you grabbed what was inside the black bag to find another bag around whatever the item was. This bag however, was clear with the words ‘EVIDENCE’ printed across it. There was some writing on the white printed square on the front of the bag. A frown filled your face, a fucking evidence bag? What was Jax thinking? Your eyes scanned over the bag reading the red marker notes. 

April 28th, 1994 Highway 99 Marker 78 TOD: 11:37

This was all the information of when your father died, your heart started beating faster as you started to come to terms with what this was. Your hand opened the evidence bag and met the fabric from inside. The feeling of the worn leather and patches felt like the cure you needed. It sent something over your entire body. Just when you thought that nothing could beat this feeling, you took it out of the bag. The smell of your father’s cologne was still faint on the fabric but strong as it hit your nose. The tears built up as you let the evidence bag fall to the ground and the leather jacket fully drop open. The brown leather was so worn, it had seen a lot over the years of your father wearing it, many highways, many states. The patches each had a story of their own. Most of them coming from the different states he had traveled to, Nevada, Texas, Arizona and more. Some to honor his time in the military and service to the county. Some just for decoration, a skeleton’s middle finger, a bear with it’s teeth showing, a compass. Then your hand passed over the patch you gifted him when you were a kid. #1 Dad. It was worn, more worn than you had remembered, but that’s when you saw the scuff from the accident. It had ended where the #1 Dad patch was, expanding across a large amount of other ones, making them have loose stitching where the leather was scratched. The pavement probably ripping the threads from them off as he slid against it from the accident. It offered you a bit of closure, seeing how it all happened. You had begged the police department for more information besides a crash, the report you saw didn’t even have an officer sketch of the accident and since foul play was a potential factor, they had kept all the evidence. You gave up years ago trying to get the evidence from lockup, but somehow it was sitting in your hands right now. 

Looking up from jacket, your eyes blurry from tears, you stared at Jax. 

“How?” It was the only word you could get out of your mouth. 

Jax placed Thomas on the ground to crawl around, and turned up the Christmas music so it would be harder for them to hear what he was gonna say. 

“Unser owed me one. He was able to pull a few strings at the Stockton State Trooper station. That’s why I was home late tonight, Ope and I went to pick it up and got stuck in traffic on the 99, construction shit.” 

You were in awe. After everything you tried, after all these years, you had his jacket in your hand, you had closure in your heart, something that almost felt unreal. 

“Unser has the police report, the real one. Figured you’d want the choice to look at it,” he started to explain, “that and it wasn’t up for civilian grabs.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Thought the jacket would be more of a heartwarming gift. There’s something in the inside pocket, too. Pictures. I didn’t look through them, I just wanted to make sure it was really it, based on what you’ve told me.” 

“Jax–I,” you had no words, you brought your hands up to wipe the tears from your eyes. 

“Why is mommy crying?” Abel said trying to raise his voice over the music. 

“Santa got me a really good gift, Abel.” You said looking directly into Jax’s eyes. “Something she’d been asking for for a long long time.” 

“Does that mean Santa is going to get me a skateboard this year?” Abel asked excitedly. 

You and Jax both let out a laugh, yours was cutting through the tears. “Thank you. So much.” You mouthed to him, it was all you could offer up with how much emotion you were feeling. 

Jax just shook his head with a nod, like it was nothing, a simple favor but he knew how much it meant to you.

“Come on, let’s finish decorating this tree.” Jax’s voice got higher as he spoke to the kids, picking Abel up to get the candy cane ornament near the top of the tree.

After placing the jacket safely on the couch for now, you picked Thomas up, so the 4 of you could all be at eye level. You looked over at Jax who was laughing about something with Abel. The music had changed, one of your favorite Christmas songs playing in the background. As the latest laugh left Jax’s mouth, his eye caught yours and he looked at you. Like really looked at you.

The blue eyes you were staring at weren’t trying to drown you in that moment anymore, they had a tint of hope and glimmer in them. You didn’t feel like the tide was trying to bring you in, you felt like maybe they were saving you. So for what you told yourself would be the last time, you forgave Jax, and more importantly you believed Jax. Because he had proven to do the impossible tonight for you, he must have been able to do it again for your family. Right?