#also the title of this work is What Makes a Saint

[fire-down-the-vine]

Chapter 4😳

After this one I’ll either make an alt account for writing or start posting on my ao3 :)

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I wake up with an annoying pain at the back of my head. I bring one hand up to rub my bleary eyes and another to run my fingers along the back of my head. I can feel a well-shaped bump sticking off of my scalp.

I must’ve gotten bashed into the wall harder than I thought

I stumble out of bed and out of my room, not bothering to get dressed. In the living room, my whole family’s gathered on our limited amount of furniture, watching the television intently. I wasn’t sure if any of them had even noticed me walking in. It’s Sunday, so my dad and brother are home, but my family never usually spends any kind of time together. Not even on Sundays.

“Jude, get in here!”

Lucian calls to me, eyes never lifting from the tv screen.

I kneel beside him on the floor. The news is on.

“The psycho broke out of that mental ward.”

“Huh?”

“The psycho.”

I still look at him, befuddled. I knew who the psycho was. Everyone around here knew about him. He was only mentioned on the news every other day. He was the leader of what seemed to have begun as a religious sect, until it made headlines as a dangerous cult. Some would even say a terrorist group. They’ve only made one public appearance: during a hostage situation at the Five Cornerstones of Mercy Church.

The leader and probably around three of the other members had hidden out in the church overnight. Short after the first service of the day had started, all entrances and exits were locked, and the preacher was threatened at gunpoint. Shots had been fired, but no one died. Just warning shots I s’pposed. Once the gun sounded, there were herds of people gathering around the church almost instantly to observe, including Lucian and I. By the time we got to the scene, the police had already arrived. About fifteen to twenty cops surrounded the building, pistols at ready, waiting for more shots so they could shoot their own.

When one cult member did show from the colossal mahogany doors of the front entrance, everyone could already identify him as the leader. He wore a hooded cloak the color deep scarlet red, that dragged down well past his feet. That’s how you could tell. The cloaks. The news reports I’d seen on the group had uncovered that the other members wore shorter, black cloaks, while the leader wore a more dramatic, red one. When he emerged from the church, he had the priest by his neck with a handgun to his head.

That was the first time I’d seen any one of the members in person. Every other time had been from shitty police sketches that were never even close to bringing the real thing justice. Aside from the cloak, a white mask covered his face, exposing nothing but two slivers of eye. The mask was plain, save for a thick red stripe that crossed over both of the eyes. He was dressed in a clean, white buttoned shirt paired with black slacks and blacker boots. He also had gloves on, I'd noticed. A dark, shiny, leathery looking material that shaped his hands tightly.

“Drop the gun!”

A sheriff called composedly, but loud enough for everyone around to hear.

The leader didn’t give a verbal response. He lifted the gun from the priest’s temple to instead aim at the police force that stood before him, though his hand seemed to tighten around the priest’s neck as the poor man let out a strangled gag, then a cough.

“DROP THE GUN!”

Another officer repeats, significantly less calm than the last.

The leader mumbled something, noticeably just for the ears of the priest. Then, a series of stifled choked and panicked noises came from the priest as streaks of crimson began to stream from his neck and over the gloved fingers of the other man, who had dug them even deeper into his throat.

“May Satan take your hands and lead you in the right direction, for this man’s god has corrupted your ways!

Let heresy into your minds and Lucifer into your hearts!

Give in! Give in!!

Fear not the Devil, for he is within you all!

PECCATUM VINCIT OMNIA!”

The man finally spoke then, each word more thundering than the last. His voice hadn’t been what I expected it to sound like. It wasn’t deep and menacing like it seemed like it’d be. It wasn’t high-pitched either, but it was young and scratchy sounding. He finished with three shots of his gun into the air. Not even a second after the third shot was fired, the sharp clicking of a taser could be heard. The man faltered once, then completely collapsed, the voltage causing the priest to go down with him. A small group of officers from the horde that stood wasted no time bolting up to the front of the church to drag his twitching body into a cop car.

We had heard on the news later on that week that they didn’t end up arresting him. That they threw him into the isolation unit at the Serenity Heights Mental Institution before any further investigation would take place instead. That was their first mistake, I think. Not throwing him in jail, or even identifying him at that.

“They only had him scheduled for a five day isolation, but when they went to get him last night, he was gone. What a joke these police are, yeah?!”

Lucian speaks again, though I hardly listen, as I tune myself into the news story that plays on the screen in front of us.

The same reporter lady is speaking of the same stories of havoc allegedly caused by the cult. There was no actual concrete evidence that connected the crimes to the group, but a pattern that had begun to show up in the mystery offenses led the news and law enforcement all over the state to point the blame at them. Supposedly, the cult only aimed its atrocities toward churches and known worshippers, and after the hostaging, that theory became backed up with more evidence than the news stations would ever need.

August, 1977- Mission Church of Life: graffitied inside and out in what was described as “satanic propaganda.”

February, 78’- Oasis of Refuge Church: breached and looted dry.

May, 78’- Monsignor Roosevelt of The Peace Harbor Church: stabbed in his own home. Suffered many wounds, but lived.

November, 78’- Mother Mary Ruth of the Serenity Heights Convent: supposedly strangled to death.

New Years, 79’- Sister Irena Ada of the same convent: kidnapped, and hasn’t been seen or heard from since.

And, October 1, 1979- The hostaging at The Five Cornerstones of Mercy.

Though, those were the only crimes documented.

“How long d’ya think he’s been out for?”

I ask, turning to Lucian

“Gotta’ be at least a couple uh days.”

I nod slowly, even though he’s not looking at me. I stand up, waltzing over to the kitchen, where my mom and sister have already broken away to.

“I don’t want either of you wandering off anywhere today, or the rest of this week. Come straight home from school tomorrow.”

My mom announces, and I scowl unnoticeably, opening the fridge to search for food.

I hear Helena slam her hands down on the table behind me.

“What about Lucian?”

She demands, irritation prevalent in her voice.

“Same rules for him too. It’s not safe right now.”

“But we’re not targets!”

“Yeah! We’re not Bible thumpin’ cucks!”

I blurt, earning a laugh from Helena.

“Jude Oliver!”

“Cucks! Freaks!”

I chant.

“Zip it, Jude! And it still isn’t safe, regardless.”

Our family wasn’t one for practicing any sort of religion. Sure, we had distant family that did, but not any of the five of us. There weren’t many families around here that were like us. The Five Cornerstones of Mercy was right in the middle of town, and known for being the biggest church in the general area. Meeting a non-religious family, or non-Christian for the most part, was unusual for most, and frowned upon by some.

“Jude! Door!”

Lucian calls from the living room, and I grumble quietly at the thought of company before I’d even gotten dressed for the day.

“One sec!”

I scurry down the hall to my bedroom, pulling on a pair of socks and fixing my hair at the very least.

“Who is it?”

I ask, sauntering back into the living room.

“Char-face.”

The door already sits half-open and I sliver through the space without opening it any more to see my friend Leslie on the other side, or, char-face. He was called that cuz’ of the burn marks that covered a lil more than half of his face and neck. There were more on the rest of his body, but they were smaller and less noticeable. He got caught in a brutal house fire from a gas leak when he was thirteen. His parents weren’t home, just him and his older brother. His brother had gotten out before the flames had become intense and unforgiving, and didn’t even look back for him.

“I had to crawl out through the bathroom window. I didn’t even get a chance to hit the ground before my vision went black. I was certain I had died. I woke up thinking I was in the afterlife er somethin’.”

He’d told me around the time we met.

“Older brothers are pieces of shit though, that’s just how they are. You’d know, Jude.”

I’d just nodded and laughed awkwardly. Sure, Lucian and I fought, but he’d never do anything like that. Leslie and I aren’t very alike. He’s obnoxious and giddy and kinda’ much sometimes. The main reason we ended up friends was cuz’ we’re both outcasts. Outcasts that’re known around town better as their distasteful nicknames given to them than their actual names.

“Judey-J.”

He greets me with a short nod.

“Hey, Leslie.”

I shuffle the rest of the way around the door until I’m standing on the cold concrete of our porch. I briefly forget how underdressed I am until I feel a chilly breeze pick up and blow through my trainer shorts.

“Look at this frog I found on your lawn.”

He outstretches his hand to reveal a small frog about the size of his palm. There was a generously sized creek near the small stretch of woods by our house, so it wasn’t uncommon to see a frog around every now and again. We’d lived in the same shabby house since I was three, and when I was a kid, sometimes I’d take them in from outside to try and get my parents to let me keep ‘em as pets, but it always just ended in my mom screaming like she’d seen a ghost. It was funny, so I kept doing it. I never understood why she was afraid of the frogs; I always thought they were cool.

“Cool,”

I smile.

I take the frog from Leslie and my hand instantly becomes slick and slimy, but not in a nasty way. I stand in silence for a few seconds, observing the small creature in my hand until Leslie speaks again.

“Can I come inside?”

I look back up to him.

“Yeah, sorry.”

I step back into the house, opening the door the rest of the way, leading him in behind me.

“What do you have?”

Helena asks, running up to me.

“Frog.”

I shove my hand wielding the frog in her face and make a croaking noise with my voice and she giggles.

“Put it outside, Jude!!”

My mom yells, eavesdropping from the other room.

“In a minute!”

“Hi, Mrs. Lynch!”

Leslie yells out in unison to me.

I turn back to him.

“Follow me.”

I saunter down the hallway to the first flimsy wooden door that leads to Lucian’s room, Leslie trailing behind me. I ever so slowly turn the knob to crack the door open only a few inches and release the frog onto his floor, shutting the door. Leslie seems like he’s about to speak, but is cut off by a near-shriek from behind the door. The door swings open and my brother bolts out. Leslie and I blurt out laughing and I’m met with a stinging smack to my back.

“YOU’RE LUCKY I DON’T POUND YOUR FACE IN, YOU CHEAP STREET GIGOLO! GET THAT SHIT OUTTA’ MY ROOM!”

My laughing grows roudier at his choice of insult. I’m about to retrieve the frog, but it’s not there. I hear another genuine scream from behind me followed by Leslie’s laughter picking up again. I turn to his direction to see Lucian running out of the still open front door, Helena on his tracks with the missing frog in her hands.

“Is he kiddin’?”

Leslie asks, almost breathless.

“Not at all! He’s all tough till’ you show him any little thing with slime er scales.”

Lucian had to be the only person I’d ever know that’s more scared of frogs than my mom. He was deathly afraid. Not just frogs either. He hated lizards, snakes, even turtles to some extent. Though, somehow, he was completely fine with any kind of bug. He even had a pet tarantula in his room, which I despised. I hate spiders. I wasn’t super afraid of em’, but I didn’t like ‘em. A few years ago, our parents finally let me get a pet too after enough begging: an iguana that Helena and I shared. Her name was Stevie and we kept her downstairs. Lucian never stepped foot in the basement ever since, even now that he’s eighteen years old.

“You wanna head out back?”

Leslie speaks to me.

“Uh, yeah. Lemme get my shoes.”

“You outta’ put pants on too. Kinda chilly out.”

He snickers.

Xx

We sit beside each other on the step leading out of my back door. The sky is grey and dreary, and the woods ahead of my backyard are quiet and still aside from the calm sway of the trees in the wind. Seemed like it was about to rain. I took Leslie’s advice and pulled on a pair of jeans along with my sneakers, though the cold air still pricked my skin slightly through the denim. After a moment, we’re rambling back and forth in frivolous bursts of chatter, getting put off track by any distraction that comes about.

“Have you seen Ms. Robinson’s ass lately? It’s enormous. Bitch has been putting on some weight.”

“You look at Ms. Robinson’s ass a lot? You fuckin’ perv!”

I laugh

“It’s hard not to when I’ve been stuck with her for two years!”

Leslie got held back with me in year nine, which was another large factor in our friendship: even though we weren’t all that similar, we were both lazy fuckin’ idiots.

“Boutta’ be three years, ay?”

I snicker

“Shut yer blabber hole, Lynch.”

The wind starts to pick up a bit now. Just barely. I can see it more than I can feel it, watching the branches of the trees rock back and forth more than sway. I pull out my Winstons and am about to take a cigarette between my fingers before Leslie grabs my wrist. I look at him and he’s now digging through his own pockets. He comes up with a small plastic bag from one and rips it open, still gripping my wrist. From the bag, he pulls out a reefer and a lighter.

“Want some hash?”

He asks, offering it into my face.

I press my lips into a line, stirring in my own thoughts for a moment.

“Just a couple puffs.”

I finally respond.

Leslie smiles a bit and lights the end, setting it between his lips. He practically sucks the smog into his throat, barely pausing to exhale any back out.

“Holy hell, Lez. Calm it.”

I tease as he hands it to me.

I take a careful drag off the roll-up and blow the pungent smoke into the air, watching it disappear into the wind.

A couple puffs turn to a few as Leslie hands the reefer back to me for about the sixth time. I’ve let my body go lax as I take another inhale, then another, deeper one.

“And I’m the one that needs to calm it?”

“Screw off!”

I laugh too loudly, but Leslie laughs with me.

Xx

It’s well into the evening by the time Leslie leaves. The sky has gotten darker, and the wind grows angrier. I watch out of the picture window as leaves soar and power lines shiver in the current. A few small droplets begin to collect on the glass in front of me. I feel the sofa sink beside me and I turn around.

“You stink.”

Helena comments, scrunching her face.

“You stink.”

I retort, attempting to mimic her expression.

I begin to wonder if anyone else has noticed the funky stench from Leslie’s hash on me now. My mom had gone out for groceries and dad sat in the armchair across from us, eyes on the television. I couldn’t have smelt that strongly. If dad noticed, he didn’t say anything.

“You smell like skunk ass.”

Helena shoots me a knowing smile, pushing my shoulder.

“Get away from me then.”

I move to push her back, but end up falling onto the floor when she moves away.

“Jude, go shower.”

My dad speaks, never looking up from the tv.

I grumble, pushing myself from the floor. Before I can start my way to the bathroom, Helena kicks the back of my knee and I trip. I get one last dirty look at her over my shoulder before I’m shutting the bathroom door behind me.

Xx

I spend the short remainder of my evening in the shower, appreciating the feeling of the hot water running over my skin combined with the cool air that streams in through the small open window.

The rain comes down hard now, like daggers shooting from the clouds, and the sky is nearly black. It’s a punishing storm, but the tranquil rain smell that pours through the window was pleasant. When I finally step out, my high has mostly gone down. There’s still a slight fog that clouds my mind, but it isn’t enough to affect me anymore. I open the bathroom door and a bit of steam spills into the hallway as I trudge to my room. The house is quiet, nothing to be heard but the sound of rain plummeting onto the roof and the occasional boom of thunder. My parents have already gone to sleep by now. Lucian and Helena probably have too, as I don’t spot them in the living room anymore.

I shut my bedroom door behind me and flick on a light and move to rummage through my dresser drawers. There’s a faint sound at my window that makes my head shoot up. I can’t see anything ouT of it; the blinds are down. I dismiss it as some variety of debri in the wind hitting the glass. It happened often during bad storms like this one. Usually something that was swept off of the floor of the woods. I collect a pair of briefs and a t-shirt from my dresser and toss them onto my bed. I hear another noise at the window, this time in the form of frantic knocking. My whole body stops and my eye scans my room in search of something, I don’t know what. I grab a pillow off my bed and hold it tightly at my side.

If it’s an intruder, I’ll just suffocate them.

I shuffle to the window and poke my fingers through the blinds. It’s too dark out to see and the glare of the light from my room only makes it more impossible to identify anything. I reach for the blind chord and pull it down until the whole window is exposed and I see the outline of a person. I grip the pillow tighter and, against all instinct, unlock the window. I push it open, fully expecting to scream for Lucian, but I’m overtaken with relief.

Finn, completely soaked, staring back at me. His eyes go wide as they drop and then meet mine again, and I’m reminded of my indecent state; wearing nothing but a towel wrapped loosely around my lower region. My face heats at the realization and I move my hands up my body awkwardly in attempt to cover up. It was silly trying though, I s’posed. It’s not like my torso was anything Finn hadn’t seen before.

“Can- can I come inside?”

He speaks almost inaudibly.

I tap my finger on the drywall and gnaw at my bottom lip nervously.

“Uh, yeah.”

I say just as softly.

I open the window the rest of the way and step a bit to the side. He climbs over the sill into my bedroom and a puddle of water already begins to form on the floor beneath him.

“Do you need a towel?”

I ask quietly, too aware of the possibility that my parents may wake up.

He looks down, nodding quickly. I tiptoe as best I can into the hallway. Once in the bathroom, I snatch an extra towel off of the rack by the tub, trying to make as little sound as humanly possible. I creep back into my room with the towel under my arm and toss it to Finn. I’m about to drop my own towel, but quickly pause, growing self conscious.

“Don’t look.”

I speak just a little above a whisper, turning around.

He doesn’t respond, but I no longer feel his eyes on me, so I go ahead with dressing myself. I let my damp towel fall to the floor and pull on the briefs and shirt from off my bed.

“Why’re you here?”

It sounds more like a demand than a genuine curiosity like I had meant it to be, and I immediately feel guilty when disappointment makes itself evident on Finn’s face. His hair is slightly damp instead of wet and messy from him toweling it off, and water no longer runs down his face, though his clothes are still sopping wet.

“I- uh,“ he pauses, looks to the floor, then back at me. “I’m sorry.”

“About last night.”

He adds

He steps closer to me and holds his hand out. My knife sits in his palm. I had nearly forgotten he even had it. I hesitate for a second, looking back up at him. His eyes never leave my face. I take it from him slowly. The room is all too silent as we sit and stare, watching each other.

“Don’t apologize. I shouldn’t have tried to get involved.”

I finally say, redirecting my gaze to the floor.

“No. I overreacted.”

Silence again. Finn takes a small step closer to me. So small it could barely even count as a step.

“I’m sorry.”

He repeats.

I don’t make any attempt to move away from him. I look back up now, setting the blade on my nightstand behind me.

“I forgive you.”

“I’m sorry too.”

I continue.

My eye trails back to his clothes.

“Do you want new clothes?”

“Oh. You don’t have to.”

“Well, you plan to stay, right?”

He looks away now.

“Can I?”

He asks softly.

“Yeah, man.”

I smile at his unwarranted embarrassment.

I move past him toward my closet in search of anything better than the cold, soggy sweater and jeans that he wore. I found it sorta difficult to find any clothing of mine that’d fit on Finn comfortably, cuz’ he had a decent amount of height on me. I came across my team sweatshirt for baseball that fit at least one size too big, and threw it out behind me for him to pick up. Finn may be taller than me, but I definitely had more build than him, being on our school’s baseball team for nearly five years; and, our team's best pitcher at that. Finn didn’t play any sports; he didn’t like ‘em, which came as a surprise to me when I first met him. Even if he didn’t have a lot of muscle, he was still very fit. Finn preferred music over sports. He played piano, violin, and guitar, and he somehow managed to play every one of those instruments nothing less than amazingly.

I went to all of his orchestra recitals and he went to all of my games, which was where we’ve been able to see each other the most outside of classes. His piano recitals were outside of the school though; in resplendent theaters or beautiful church chapels. Watching him play with the school orchestra was one thing, but listening to his talent, solo, echoing off of tall, embellished walls was something beyond extraordinary. I’ve only been to one of his piano recitals, cuz’ they’re farther away, and his dad usually attends. I shuffle to the side a bit to search through my dresser. I come up with a baggy pair of old sweats and turn around with them in my hands. Finn’s sweater and jeans are now in a wet pile on my floor and he wears the dry sweatshirt I handed off to him. I hand the pants over to him and he gladly takes them from me.

“Thanks, dude. You mean lots to me, y’know?”

He speaks, pulling on the pants that fit a little short on him.

“No worries.”

I smile.

“I’m gonna’ go get the cot from the basement. You can get settled in my bed.”

“Won’t you wake your parents?”

He made a good point. The creaking of our stairs could be heard throughout the house and probably even by our neighbors.

“You’re right.”

We’re both quiet for a beat.

“I’m fine taking the floor.”

Finn speaks up and I meet his eye contact.

“No. You’ve already come all this way in the pouring rain. Why would I make you sleep on the floor?”

He shrugs.

“I dunno. You’re kinda’ mean like that sometimes.”

He says with a grin and I bite back a smile.

“No I’m not. I’m a sweetheart.”

He scoffs, then it’s quiet again. It seemed like we had this conversation every time he stayed over. Over who got the bed, and who got the floor. Most times, Finn slept on our cot by my bed. There were some times where we both took the bed, but it always began with an argument beforehand until it came to that decision. We were fine with sleeping in the same bed, yet it seemed mandatory to act like we weren’t first.

“You could just take the other side of my bed. If you’re cool with that.”

I utter finally.

Finn’s eyes leave my face now.

“Are you cool with it?”

He asks just as quietly.

“Of course I am.”

I speak softly, giving a quick nod in attempt to reassure him.

I shuffle over to my bed and pull the sheets back, throwing myself onto the mattress. I scoot up against the wall and Finn takes the invitation to lie down next to me. I reach over him awkwardly to turn the lamp off and I receive a pinch at my armpit.

“Ow.”

I shove his arm away and he giggles.

“Asshole.”

I murmur, laying back down, pulling the sheets over both of us.

The room is dark and silent. I can’t see Finn anymore. I can’t see anything, but I know I’m facing him. Minute after minute goes by of nothing to be heard but the ever so quiet sound of our breathing and the patter of the rain.

“Jude?” Finn barely whispers “You awake?”

“Yeah.”

It goes quiet again. Another long minute almost passes, and I start to wonder if whether I was asleep or not was all he wanted to know.

“I don’t wanna’ go back home.”

He mutters softly, his voice shaky.

I reach out in the dark and touch what feels like his arm. I hear him take a deep breath in, then sniffle a bit letting it back out.

“My dad and I got into a fight before I snuck out.”

My hand reaches his wrist and I rub circles into the exposed skin with my thumb, attempting to soothe him.

“What happened?”

I urge him to continue.

“He wants me to go into training to be pastor next year. Once I’m seventeen. So that I can start once I'm eighteen.”

Sean Kovach had some sort of disgusting connections with the Five Cornerstones of Mercy Church, and this wasn’t the first time I’d heard of him pressuring Finn into working there with him. But pastor? At eighteen? That was practically no freedom for the rest of his adult life.

“You can leave before then, if you save up enough.”

Finn planned to move out right when he turned eighteen. He’d talked about it with me often. He planned to get a small apartment, and a career in the music industry.

“I’ll live in a van for a year. Maybe more, if I have to.”

He’d told me.

“He already has money invested in a creepy religious college out of town for me.”

His voice starts to break now. He’s frustrated. I can tell.

“Doesn’t matter if he invested.” I pause. “Don’t go.”

I hear him shift next to me. I can feel the presence of his face inches away from mine now.

“When I move out, would you come with me?” His voice gets quieter as he continues. “To help with expenses n’ stuff.”

“For sure, man.”

I smile, forgetting that he can’t see me.

I move my hand from his arm in search of something else and find the back of his neck. I realize now that he’s further down the bed than I thought he was. A few mostly dry curls brush against my hand and I follow them up to the back of his head where they tangle around my fingers. I run my fingers through the strands with surprising ease and I feel Finn sigh against my skin.

“That feels nice.”

He murmurs. I hum in response, repeating the action.

I hear him shift again and now I feel an arm sling around my back, the same soft hair my hand is occupied with now on my neck, and a chin rested on my shoulder. His body is almost flush against mine and comforting heat radiates off of it and onto me.

“Goodnight, JJ.”

He all but breathes. If he hadn’t been so close, I doubt I would’ve heard it.

“Night, Finny.”

[ode2rin]

US, AGAIN .ೃ

pairing. itoshi sae x gn!reader

genre. second chance (exes back to lovers!) | a bit of small town romance | a sprinkle of childhood friends to lovers (past) | angst with a happy ending 

content/warnings. 5.2k+ wc | characters are aged 25 in the present | pro-athlete!sae x coffee shop owner!reader | sae left for spain at 19 in here | mentions of sae’s vague past (especially the striker dream) | itoshi bros conflict never happened here let me be delusional | heavy in narration | minimal proofread

in which: itoshi sae returns to the only place on earth he vows to never set foot again.

💭 flashbacks are italicized and indented :>

Six years.

In those six long years of his absence, you couldn't deny that you rehearsed countless scenarios of encountering him upon his return. 

If by chance he still wanted to see you, or even look at you, you imagined giving him a small smile, a carefully crafted facade of composure, before gracefully walking away, as if life had moved on effortlessly for both of you.

That’s what you imagined. Just walk away, like how life went on for the both of you. 

But reality never seemed to align with your reveries. The sight of him wasn't remotely serene enough to prompt a composed exit. Seeing him made your throat tighten, and your heart danced in a rhythm only he could create.

Six damn years had passed since you last saw him on that balcony, and now, with him back in town, avoiding him seemed like the only right thing to do.

You don’t know how long he’ll be here, but it is now your life mission to avoid him at all cost. Today's encounter was just an unfortunate event—an inevitable twist of fate. Their house was literally right in front of your family's, making it hard to escape the nearness of the past.

“So, he’s back in town?” 

Hari's voice, your co-worker and now a dear friend, snapped you back from the reverie of yesterday's memories. The sound of her voice broke through the nostalgic haze, pulling you back to the present.

“What?”

“I asked if your childhood friend who is also a superstar slash professional athlete slash your only ex is back,” she mischievously asked, even miming quotation marks to emphasize each title she created.

You chuckled softly, shaking your head at her antics. Your gaze drifted to the freshly baked pastries, their delightful aroma greeting your senses like a warm embrace as you artfully displayed them on the shelves. The familiar scent of coffee and delightful confections used to calm you, but now it mingled with the storm of emotions inside.

“Yeah, it's basically the talk of the town. He's famous after all,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant and still focused on your work, using it as a shield to hide your vulnerability.

But in reality, the sight of him earlier had caught you off guard, and you had turned the other way to avoid him. Your heart was still racing from the almost encounter, and the comforting ambiance of your coffee shop provided little solace.

“Did he see you?”

“I pray to all saints that he didn’t,” you deadpanned, your facade of composure beginning to falter.

“What did he look like now?”

You hesitated, your mind flashing back to that fleeting glimpse of him earlier.

Far from what was once mine. “Good.”

“That’s it? Good?”

No. He looked gorgeous. He looked painfully gorgeous.

“What do you want me to say?” you countered, throwing a side glance to her persistence.

In that fleeting moment, you caught a glimpse of how much he had changed. He looked undeniably handsome, lean, and with a certain maturity that hadn't been there before.

He… looked different.

And that's good—for you and for him. It meant that life there treated him well, and it eased some of the lingering guilt you carried.

You and Hari fell into a consuming silence, your backs turned away from each other. Even with closed eyes, you sensed that she wanted to ask something. You didn't want to initiate the conversation, but this suffocating silence had to go.

As you stepped behind the counter, you were met with Hari's concerned eyes and a voice laden with hesitation. “What are you going to do then?” she carefully asked.

You pressed your lips together, momentarily at a loss for words.

So you did what you do best: mask hurting with laughter.

“Is there anything I should do?” you paused, the sound of your fake laughter ringing in your ears. “It's been years. We made a choice.”

But Hari wasn't ready to let the matter rest, and you don’t know how to tell her you’re close to calling it a day. “You made a choice for him,” she countered gently, her tone filled with empathy.

Stunned was an understatement. Caught off guard would be an apt description. But speechless was exactly how you felt.

That, you couldn't mask with anything.

So you did what you weren’t best at: admitting the truth.

“And I’ll do it again,” you whispered in return. It was faint, because it was more for you than more of a reply to her. 

You were both young, and half oblivious to what it would be like outside, where the world wasn’t painted in golden hues and the gentle waves were replaced by blaring cars.

You were both seventeen, young and living for the hope of it all.

But you lived for days like those – days where both of you just had to be kids still. No worries, no voices of what might come.

“Tell me about your dreams, Sae.” “Tch. You already know about it.”

You did. All of it, you knew. Since you were kids, no one knew him like you did. You were his lover and confidant. You knew about it, all too well and all too much.

“Come on!” you persisted, giving him an enthusiastic look. “The sky looks so pretty in this sunset, I want it to know about us.” The setting sun painted the sky in hues of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the beach as you and Sae sat side by side in the sand. The sound of gentle waves caressed your ears, creating a serene backdrop for your beach date. He hesitated for a moment, looking out at the horizon. Then there it was, a glint of determination flashed in his usually reserved eyes. “To be the best striker in the world.” You couldn't help but be captivated by the sight. It was the first time you had seen such an unusual spark in his eyes. Sae's gaze was often cold and impersonal, but now it was as if stars were hanging in his eyes, reflecting the infinite possibilities of his dreams. Sae is handsome, mysteriously beautiful even. But this, nothing will beat how dreamy he looks when he speaks of his craft. You liked this look on him - so ambitious, so driven. It made your heart flutter with admiration. Seeing this glint in his eyes right now, you knew you wanted to do anything in your power to let it stay there.

And you did, you held on and held out. Until you turned nineteen, when you had let him go to the big cities where he rightfully belonged. 

You smiled, a genuine, heartwarming smile, and leaned in to press a tender kiss on his cheek. “I’m sure you will be the best.”

Maybe you bit off more than what you could chew, but in the end, you’d do it all over again. Because what you did, the choice you made – it was for the best.

You were both nineteen, young and eager to grasp the world's offerings with hopeful hands. 

But despite the certainty you tried to hold onto, there were nights when the memories tugged at your heartstrings like it did now. You knew it was the right choice, that you both needed to chase your dreams separately — especially his dreams. But it didn't erase the whispers of what-ifs that occasionally crept into your mind.

But life — life went on. Life never waits for anyone, anyway. And so, you worked diligently to craft a future that no longer had room for regrets.

But love leaves echoes, and his presence back in town stirred those dormant feelings. With him being in the same place, you felt like a stranger in your own town.

It was easier when he was thousands of miles away, an untouchable star on a different horizon. But now, with the universe conspiring to bring you close again, you couldn't help but feel like a wanderer in the galaxy of memories you built together.

After all, everything here in this town is about you and him. 

Six years.

Was it that long? He couldn’t really tell. Maybe time really does pass fast when your life is falling apart.

It has been six years since Sae has sat on the balcony of his childhood home. And like the sick bastard fate was, he’s welcomed by the sight of your horrified yet still so damn fucking beautiful face.

Perhaps the saints you prayed to didn’t hear any of your pleas, because despite calling out to each one, Sae saw you.

There you were, a flicker in the periphery of his vision, desperately trying to avoid him. He was trained to be very aware of his field of vision, so there was no way he wasn’t able to notice your frantic leaving and the hurried closing of your house’s door as you noticed him. 

He let you be, holding back the overwhelming desire to call out your name like he used to when both of you were running late to class. He let you be, because if you were to ask him, he wouldn’t know how to look you in the eye without a thousand words reflecting on his own. 

[Attention, everyone. This is the final boarding call for passengers of flight 924 to Madrid, Spain. Again, this is the final –] “Sae, you’re going to miss your flight. They’re not coming.” No. “They’re not coming, Sae. You have to get on the plane.” No. No. Shut up.

He needed you there, more than anyone. A thousand people could cheer and show up for Itoshi Sae, but his eyes will always search the crowd for just one — just yours.

Yet, alas, you were nowhere to be found. And so, that very same day, Sae vowed to never come back to this place.

He hated this town and you, he’s convinced.

Sae had always been indifferent to a lot of people, everyone knew that. But never in a hundred years would anyone who knew you both think you’d be on that list. And deep down, he didn’t want to believe it either – until that day you decided not to show up when you promised you would.

He wasn't stupid. He had an inkling of why you did what you did. Yet, irrationality overpowered reason, and all he wanted that day was to run the distance between the airport and your house – to see your face, to remind you that he had plans, plans for both of you.

When Sae’s manager informed him that he needed to come home for a while to renew his passport, it was as if all of his suppressed recollections of this place – of you, came pouring out to his soul all at once.

Every street, every corner, every memory — they all threatened to consume him. His family, Rin, this town, and you – you were all the things he left behind for the dream.

Dream. Best Striker in the world. What did it even mean? Long ago, he thought he knew.

But it had to work. Everything had to work. He lost you for this dream. And if he loses it too, then what does that make him? A sore failure. And Sae was never known to be admissible to failing.

Whatever hell he encountered on the other side of the world, he swore he would never return home. Even when he was traversing across a path to ruin of being the person he thought he would be, he would never ever choose to come home.

Anywhere, but here. Anywhere, but home.

So there he was, the renowned glorious prodigy of japan. He was close to everything after countless mishaps. 

He’s getting closer and closer to the new dream yet getting farther and farther away from home.

Home. What does it even mean? Lately, he doesn’t even know. 

And after that day, no one ever mentioned your name to him. No one in his new world knew about you. No one knew how Itoshi Sae's world used to revolve around someone's soft smiles and easy eyes. 

He never asked anyone not to mention you; he wasn't one to ask, after all. But for some reason, no one dared to. Not even Rin. It was as if one mention of you in his presence was a carefully crafted brick used to make his castles crumble to the ground.

He hated that, but maybe they were right. Because with just a second's worth of a glimpse of you from earlier, Sae indeed felt his castles crumbling, piece by piece.

He hates you, for making his resolve crumble. For being the one person who can make his vow to never look back fall apart.

He hates you, because everything in this forsaken place is about you and him. Memories of your shared youth are etched into the very walls and streets, haunting him like ghosts of a past he can't escape.

He hates you, for not trusting you two would work it out somehow, and for giving up before the game even began.

He hates you, because it was easier that way. Easier to pretend he didn't care, that you didn't matter, and that you were just another soul he knows a little too much of.

Sae could go on and on listing a hundred more, and yet he knows, only one of it was true – and that he hates you for making him convince himself that he does, just to cope with leaving half of his heart to the only place he vowed never to come back to.

It was a jinx to say that yesterday’s encounter was already an unfortunate event, because today, you literally learned a whole new degree of unfortunate and unlucky – by having Itoshi Sae as your first customer of the day. 

“Welcome! How may I help you toda— S-Sae.”

And to even top it off, today was Hari’s day off. It meant that you’re currently alone in the same confined four-cornered room with the person you swore you would avoid like it’s your life mission.

Damn it, Hari. Of all days. Her day off really had to be today.

Itoshi Sae, in the goddamn flesh, is standing in your place two meters away from you, yet you’re having a hard time feeling your feet on the ground and your heart beating so damn loud. 

He wasn’t looking at you (thank god), and had his eyes exploring the place with a neutral expression playing on his face. Suddenly, you feel like sixteen again back when he was looking at the first set of cookies you’ve ever baked and you were dying to hear what he thinks of your craft.

“It’s yours?”

You gulp. 

You gulped down the urge to tear up with how much his voice changed. You gulped down the urge to cry because he assumed you had your dream turn into reality too.

“Yeah,” you replied in whisper, your eyes following where he was looking, trying to avoid any chance it will meet his, “it’s not much but —”

“It’s beautiful.” Even before Sae could hear your meek comment of yourself, he cut you off.

You were always like that —downplaying your hard work, belittling yourself even before someone does. He hated that about you. 

He used to get mad at you for it, especially when someone made fun of you at school and you didn’t defend yourself. He always makes you cry whenever he points it out, so he stopped. Instead, he made it his role to rebuild your confidence. Sae wasn't known for being generous in compliments. It would probably take one hand to count all the instances that he genuinely called someone along the lines of not dumb, stupid, lukewarm. 

But it was never the case with you. With you, to say beautiful was always a second nature to Sae's tongue.

And he wasn’t lying though. Your coffee shop was really charmingly cozy, and so like you. It’s so much alike to what you used to tell him how you envisioned it would be. 

The coffee shop was a quaint haven nestled right at the edge of the sandy shore. Its exterior, adorned with weathered wooden panels and soft, warm hues, exuded a rustic charm that welcomed passersby with open arms. Sunlight spilled through large windows, casting gentle rays that danced upon the vintage, mosaic-tiled floor.

It’s beautiful, and it’s in front of our place. He wanted to say to you, but he stopped at beautiful not wanting to make things more awkward than it should.

The coffee shop, it’s right in front of the beach. It’s in front of that one spot you and him used to call ours. 

It’s the first thing he noticed before coming inside, and it made him wonder whether you knew or he’s the only one who remembers it even now.

Bashful, you uttered a silent thank you to his remark, “What would you like to order?” you followed up, trying to maintain composure despite your heart racing in your chest.

Noticing that he’s been too silent for someone who’s about to order something, you looked up to your menu, and immediately, you understood his silence. If one were to point out, it is too immediate for someone who’s almost strangers to each other.

“We have non-caffeinated drinks too,” you hurriedly said to him, your voice quivering slightly as you tried to break the spell of awkward silence.

He gulps, his eyes locked with yours in a moment that felt like eternity.

He can’t drink coffee, it ruins his body clock, and you knew that. You still know that.

It appears that he's not the only one who remembers, after all.

A thousand emotions danced in his eyes, each one a testament to the love that once blossomed between you. The coffee shop, once a quaint haven, now felt like a crucible of emotions, and the atmosphere was thick with unspoken words, heavy with the weight of what could have been.

Your breath caught in your throat, and you couldn't look away, despite the rush of memories and unspoken words flooding your mind. It was as if time had folded in on itself, and you were once again those young souls who found solace in each other's presence.

But this was different, much more complicated. The past was a turbulent sea, and even though you had both moved on with your lives, there was still a deep, lingering connection that couldn't be severed.

Yet, you knew better than to let those emotions take control. You made a choice, you have to stand by it.

You were no longer the naive teenagers who believed love could conquer all. Reality had taught you both harsh lessons, and the wounds of the past still lingered, threatening to reopen with each stolen glance.

“I’ll have your best seller of it then,” he finally broke the silence, his voice steady despite the tempest inside.

With a nod, you turned to prepare his order, your hands trying to steady themselves. You couldn't help but wonder if he noticed the tremor in your fingers or the way your heart seemed to echo in every beat.

As you handed him his drink, your fingertips brushed lightly against his hand, and for a brief moment, the world stood still.

He took the cup from you, and for a fleeting moment, you both lingered, almost as if neither of you wanted to let go. He could stay in this, playing pretend. Pretend none of it happened, pretend he never left, pretend it worked out in the end.

But he can’t, not when you stepped back first, breaking the contact between you and reminding him of the choice you made.

“Thank you,” he managed to say, his voice softer now, filled with a hint of something even he couldn't quite decipher.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

And just like that, the moment passed, slipping through your fingers like sand. He turned to leave, and you watched him walk away, every step taking him farther from the life you once shared.

Perhaps, in some parallel universe, there existed a version of you who chose differently, who stayed intertwined with him in a tale of love that defied all odds. But here, in this reality, both of you were no longer who you used to be.

In this universe, you're just some two ghosts standing in the place of you and him, haunted by the memories of what once was while trying to remember what it feels to have a heartbeat.

After Sae’s visit yesterday, saying that you weren’t doing fine would be a gross understatement. 

Your emotions were all over the place, and you couldn't seem to find a stable ground for your thoughts. It didn't help when your parents casually mentioned that he was leaving town later today. Apparently, Mrs. Itoshi had a little gossip session with the neighbors, unknowingly revealing a piece of her oldest son's business.

He’s leaving, and that's good—for you and for him.

As you stood behind the counter of the coffee shop, you absentmindedly glanced out the window, your eyes drawn to the beach. The sight of the shore brought back a flood of memories.

Maybe in another life, the two of you could still dance along the sandy shore, playfully splashing water at each other. He would chase after you, catching hold of your waist as he sweeps you off your feet. And perhaps, just perhaps, you would have the chance to embrace him tightly once again, with your arms wrapped around his neck while you share a kiss as greedy and fiery as the sea’s yearning for the moon.

And maybe, in another life, your story wouldn’t end with both of you being strangers who know a little too much about each other.

Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the tears streaming down your cheeks until Hari whispered, “Y/N... you're crying.”

“Oh, I am,” you admitted, trying to regain your composure.

Your heart lurched as you tried to suppress the tears, but they kept flowing relentlessly. “Hari…” you whispered, shocked by your own emotional outpouring.

Hari's eyes reflected pity as she watched you, her voice soft and understanding. “Go,” she encouraged, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, “Get your man. I'll take care of everything here.”

The words hit you like a lifeline, a spark of hope igniting within you. You quickly removed your apron and grabbed your keys, determined to catch him before it was too late. 

But before you could dash out, Hari's voice echoed through the shop, loud and clear, “Go! Be happy! And for the love of god, no more sacrifices as a love language!”

With one last glance at her and your coffee shop, you rushed out the door.

The airport seemed like a maze of bustling strangers as you frantically searched for the departure gates. Every passing second felt like an eternity, the fear of missing him consuming you.

Desperation and determination fueled your steps as you approached the flight attendant, your voice trembling, “Flight to Spain — I need to know about the flight to Spain for today.”

The attendant looked at you with sympathy, “I'm sorry, but all flights to Spain have already left. The last one left twenty minutes ago.”

Your heart sank, but you couldn't give up that easily. “Can you check again? Please. I-I need to see him. Please.”

The attendant double-checked, but the outcome remained unchanged. 

Twenty damn minutes. You lost him in just that short amount of time.

Your heart shattered as you realized you had missed your chance. The desperation in your eyes was evident as you felt your world crumbling around you.

In the midst of the bustling airport, you allowed yourself to grieve for what could have been and for the chances you never took.

Six years ago, you were supposed to be here. And maybe if you did, you wouldn't find yourself six years after, wishing you did things differently.

The drive back felt like the longest journey of your life. 

The sinking sun painted the sky with hues of orange and pink as you approached the familiar place. As you got closer, you noticed that the shop was already closed, and you assumed Hari had taken care of everything. 

But what caught you off guard was the sight of Sae standing there, in front of your place, with a suitcase by his side, as if he were meant to be on a flight rather than standing there.

“You're here,” you whispered, your heart pounding in your chest as you got closer.

“I’m here.”

“Why didn't you leave?” you asked.

Because I’m done convincing myself that I hate you, Sae hesitated to say.  “Why did you go to the airport?” he countered instead, avoiding your question.

Because I’m done telling myself that I did the right thing. 

There were so many things you wanted to say, but the words were caught in your throat. You bit your lip, not ready to answer his question just yet.

Impatient and desperate, Sae took his chances to ask you the only question that mattered to him at this point, “Tell me you don't love me anymore. I will go. I will do as you please. I just need to hear it from you.”

Your eyes widened at his sudden question, but Sae wasn’t done yet. “Answer me. It’s a yes or no question.”

Lost in a whirlwind of emotions, you couldn't hold back the torrent of words that poured from your heart.

“A yes or no question, you say? Every night, I think of you.”

With each word, your voice wavered, and you couldn't help but express the worries that had plagued you during his absence.

“Were you eating properly? Does the food there suit your liking? You’re a bit picky. Is it too hot there? Were you taking your supplements? Were you being hard on yourself again? Is... is there someone new? There must be, right?”

As the words left your lips, you realized just how much you had been consumed by thoughts of him, wondering about every aspect of his life, even when he was miles away from you.

His reaction to you holding forth seemed to intensify at your last question, but right now, you weren’t ready to listen to him. He needs to listen to you.

“Every single night of the past six years, I yearned for you. I yearned to have you close. I yearned to hold your face just once more. And fuck, I would’ve traded all my tomorrows for just one yesterday with you.”

With those words, the floodgates of emotion burst open, and tears streamed down your cheeks. 

Fuck, six years. For six years, you held on and held out. Would it have been easier if both of you had tried, and along the way, lost? Would it have alleviated the pain of what-ifs and what could have been's if you had bargained, if you had gambled? Or would it all have led you right back to this moment, grappling with the same heartache and uncertainty?

Finally, meeting his eyes, you saw a reflection of your own emotions in his. But you weren’t done yet.

“And you dare ask me if I love you. Well, does that answer your fucking question, Itoshi?”

“Then, don’t cross it out. Don’t ever cross it out again.”

Cross what…out?

“I saw your letter,” Sae admitted, causing a momentary confusion to wash over you. 

My letter… Bewildered, you couldn't form the right words, and he took it as a sign to continue, and to close the distance between you to hold your hands.

“Tell me, how could I leave after reading that, knowing the only soul who truly knew me was here? You own me, Y/N.”

“I told you countless times before, you own me,” Sae reaffirmed, his grip on your hand tightening as he drew it closer to his lips, planting tender kisses upon your skin. 

“There was no one,” he continued, his words carrying a sense of reassurance. “And there's no other warmth comparable to yours that I'd ever let myself bask in. And if there's any, I'd be only fooling myself, pretending it was you instead.”

Sae's voice grew softer, yet resolute. “You own me, even when I'm on the other side of the world. You own me, Y/N. Even in the distance that separated us, even in the years that you claim I'm not."

He stepped closer, his eyes locked with yours, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. “No place can ever own me as much as you do. So, don't ever cross your I love you's to me. I want them – all. I don't want your sorry's.”

“But I’m sorry,” you whispered, for the last time. But Sae gently wiped away your tears.

“It's ‘I love you’ from now on.”

For a moment, you both stayed like that, trying to make up for the lost time. Sae, much like you, dreamed of the day he gets to hold you close once again. He dreamed of a day he gets to watch the sunset from the reflection of your eyes again.

Sae could go on and on listing a hundred more reasons why he shouldn't be standing here, and yet he knew, only one of it was true – and that he hated himself for convincing himself that he shouldn't be here – to you, in his hometown.

Sae may have vowed to never come back to this place, but it was always a lie, because for all he knew, it's the only place he truly belonged. Half of his heart was left here, with you.

“Come on,” Sae said, and you followed him, curiosity in your eyes.

“Where are we going?”

“There,” Sae pointed to the beach, your spot, specifically. “To our place. The sky looks pretty, and I want it to know about us, again.”

“Us... again?” you asked hesitantly.

“If you would take me back.” Sae answered, a hint of fear in his eyes, afraid that he might be assuming this second chance for the two of you.

You took his hand in response, and squeezed it three times. “I want nothing more than to be with you, again.”

Without any more words, Sae gently cupped your cheeks, his touch sending shivers down your spine. The touch of his fingers was both familiar and new.

In the fading light of the day, his eyes bore into yours with an intensity that made your heart race. The anticipation hung heavy in the air as you leaned closer to each other, your breath hitched as his warm breath mingled with yours.

His lips were soft against yours, and as they moved with a tenderness that mirrored the way he held you, it was as if he was trying to convey everything he had ever wanted to say to you in that one, passionate moment.

The kiss deepened, and you could feel the intensity of his emotions pouring into it. It was a kiss that spoke of all the words left unsaid, of all the nights spent missing each other, and of all the dreams of a future together.

Feeling the tears streaming down your cheeks, Sae pulled back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. And in that moment, he knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be – here.

To you, in his hometown. 

💭 thank you for the request saetorinrin! (i owe you a lot for your patience i guess..)

note. hi. if you’ve been here before, you might know that i hate this trope with a burning passion, i just can’t write it for the life of me. i started this in may (and only had the guts to finish it this month lmao), i was so tempted to delete everything and start from scratch (for the nth time) but i think i owe it to myself to retain most of what i wrote when i was stranded on an island xd this isn’t my best, that, i know for sure. but i hope you’ll still like it ! 

💌 if you reached this part, and you want to know about reader’s letter that sae’s was referencing, here it is. you may or may not read this, it won’t really matter. but if you want to, click until the end :>

💭 back to: milestone event

[let-roman-bite-someone]

i know i've said this before but i'm so tired of people acting like Patton is the general embodiment of morality. as if he is the personification of the legal justice system and everything he does must be good and fair™.

folks, Patton is Thomas's morality. remember what Virgil said in the Q&A episode?

this applies to all of the sides. every single one of them.

Remus wouldn't be the same for everyone, different people have different types of intrusive thoughts. Logan wouldn't be the same for everyone, different people have had different levels of education, different forms of intelligence and different applications of logic.

but the funny thing is, i never see people criticize the other sides for being too representative of their title. they don't reprimand Virgil for making Thomas anxious because that's his job. they don't bash Roman for being a perfectionist. but for some reason, people expect Patton to be a saint who does no wrong.

it's emphasized so clearly in multiple episodes that the sides are the result of Thomas's upbringing specifically. Patton is simply the moral code that Thomas's parents and on a larger scale, society, had taught him.

“Patton was so accepting of Virgil but he couldn't accept Remus or Janus!”

yeah. because it's easier to deal with anxiety than it is to deal with intrusive thoughts. don't get me wrong, anxiety is definitely a serious issue. but Thomas's anxiety never went directly against his morals, if anything, Virgil's perspective aligned very much with Patton's. being anxious about say embarrassing yourself in public or not getting your work done in time is not as morally concerning as having thoughts about murdering your brother.

but Thomas, like many of us, grew up with no one to tell him what intrusive thoughts are or how to deal with them. when Patton was chastising Thomas for having these thoughts, that's just Thomas beating himself up over something he can't control.

the same goes for Janus. Patton had a hard time accepting Janus because Thomas had learned to always be selfless since when he was younger, and Janus was challenging that point of view. when Patton was pushing Thomas to be selfless, that's just Thomas pushing himself and feeling guilty at the thought of focusing on his own needs.

i feel like people think that Patton is actually Thomas's father figure or something. i understand if he reminds you of someone toxic in your life and it can be uncomfortable to watch. but while it's good to relate to the media you are consuming, it's also important to view things in context.

Patton is not a person, he's not an individual who has the freewill to do what he wants. he is only Thomas's morality and what his morals are heavily depends on what Thomas was taught and how he was raised.

Patton cannot control the morals that Thomas had learned. he can only try to implement them in Thomas's life and unless Thomas himself decides to unlearn some of the unhealthy ideals that he has internalized, Patton cannot go against his nature. he can only do what he has been programmed to do, with the knowledge that he has.

[tyrantisterror]

The Fuck's Up With Mammon?

Ok, so, in the grand history of Christian folklore, there are dozens of different ways that the society of Hell and its various demons can be structured. One of the most popular is The Seven Princes of Hell, which divides Hell between seven ruling demons, each of which represents the seven deadly sins (and is opposed by saints who represent the seven heavenly virtues). It's fun because it's got a solid theological theme and not too many working parts - seven is a more digestible number than nine or, like, however the fuck your sort out all the demons in the Lesser Key of Solomon, each of which has some arbitrary number of legions of demon soldiers under their command, and the deadly sins theme gives you a clear way to make each prince's domain stand out.

(Obviously I'm a bit biased here, since I used a modified version of the Seven Princes of Hell for my own story about demons, but still, I think the point stands.)

Now, who the seven princes of Hell are can differ. Binsfield, the guy who coined the name, lists them as follows:

Lucifer, Prince of Pride

Mammon, Prince of Greed

Asmodeus, Prince of Lust

Leviathan, Prince of Envy

Beelzebub, Prince of Gluttony

Satan, Prince of Wrath

Belphegor, Prince of Sloth

However, there are earlier versions of the seven princes that rearrange things. Beelzebub has been given the sin of Envy at times, Belphegor has been given gluttony, and both Belial and Abaddon/Apollyon have taken the role of prince of Sloth. With me so far?

Right, ok, so here's the thing: ALL of these demons have shit going on in folklore outside of their role as potential princes of Hell. Well, all except one. To wit:

Lucifer, despite being a translation error, quickly became the front-runner in the grand race of "Who is THE Devil in the Bible, i.e. the leader of Hell itself?" It helps that said translation error was made by King James in his version of the Bible, which, while a terrible translation, is an amazing piece of poetry in its own right and beloved by many Christians because of it. Notably, Lucifer is The Devil of Paradise Lost, which is up there with Dante's The Divine Comedy in being one of the most important and influential depictions of Hell of all time.

Beelzebub is one of the oldest demons in all of demonology, predating Christianity itself, and is pretty close to Lucifer in the race for "Who is THE Devil," with arguably a better claim to the position despite Lucifer being the more popular candidate for the role.

Satan gets kudos for being one of the few devils that's ACTUALLY named in the Bible... even if it's less a name in context and more a title akin to "prosecuting attorney." Because of that, he's arguably got the greatest claim to being The Devil, and in most works where a different devil gets the title, Satan is treated as one of his alternate titles anyway.

Asmodeus was set up in folklore to be The Devil, and has a pretty strong claim to the title because of that. He's also clearly what Dante based his description of the devil's physical appearance on, with his three different colored heads and all, and that gives him some major props.

Leviathan is also a rare demon who gets mentioned in the Bible, although in the Bible it's pretty clear he's not a demon but rather a big sea monster, and a lot of Christian folklore treats him as such instead of as a demon. So that's a pretty big "other thing going on" for him - sometimes he's not even a demon, but more of a godzilla.

Belphegor was mentioned in a good number of texts predating the concept of arranging demons by the seven deadly sins, and while he was mostly a minor demon (akin to most of the other residents of the Lesser Key of Solomon, like Shax or Marchosias or what have you), that's still something. Becoming a Prince of Hell gave him a greater claim to fame, but still, he had a career before it.

Abaddon/Apollyon is one of those demons whose name is ALSO a synonym for Hell itself, which is a pretty big deal. He can be a demon, or he can be hell, or he can be BOTH, like in the takes where Hell has a literal mouth to swallow sinners and is portrayed as kind of a living monster in its own right. He also got to be The Devil in Pilgrim's Progress, and that's pretty cool.

Belial is one of the absolute earliest demons, having been cast as The Devil in the Book of Enoch, which is kind of the O.G. Abrahamic demon story (as much as any written story could be the source of it, anyway). Thus, while Belial may not have the most popular claim to being The Devil, he arguably has the best claim to it, or at least the earliest. Also, Belial is just as often depicted as a lady demon as he is a male demon, which means Belial is the best candidate for a Princess of Hell.

But that leaves... Mammon. And as far as I can tell in all my research, Mammon's claim to fame is and has always been being the Demon of Greed. Like Lucifer, his existence is owed to a translation of the Bible personifying something that was not originally a person - "mammon" was just supposed to mean money and other material wealth, but then it became, well, Mammon, the demonic personification of Greed.

He's the demon who was made for his sin, rather than being given it after his creation. The only demon whose existence purely hinges on needing a personification of a sin, the only one who has no other shit going on. Lucifer, Beelzebub, Asmodeus, they all have rich histories as demons in folklore, but Mammon? He's just greed.

And that's weird to me. Were there no other, more popular demons who could embody the concept? How does Mammon feel having nothing else to him beyond his sin? It's kinda weird, right?

I've got no greater point to this, I just thought it'd be fun to share.

[roseghoul26]

Part 2

Javier Escuella x femVirgin!Reader

Synopsis: You and Javier are to attend a party in Saint Denis, hoping to rob the owner of the establishment. Your role is to distract the man while Javier sneaks up to his room, stealing bonds rumored to be worth a good bit. The only problem is, the two of you are pretending to be husband and wife, which would be fine if you weren’t completely in love with the man. Will you be able to muster up the courage to finally confess to him, or will your personal anxieties hold you back from getting what you want?

Tags: fluff, smut, friends to lovers, fem!Reader, reader is described to have longer hair but that’s about it, reader is afraid of intimacy, but like still wants it, unwanted touch (not from javier), unwanted sexual advances (not from javier), non consensual touching (not from javier), basically any noncon stuff is not done by javier, degrading language towards women, first kiss, love confessions, virgin reader, not beta read, angst, unsafe sex

Author’s Note: i realized while writing this that the song “Slut!” by taylor works so well with fic, and i was going to change the title to a lyric from it but i already committed to this title

also, this is the part that contains non consensual themes, but there is not actually assault that happens. if you’re not in the right headspace to read something like that, please skip this fic!

part 1 ❉ part 2

If you had to laugh at one more awful joke, and to continue pretending like you were oh so interested in the history of a family’s company, you were going to hurt someone. You were thankful for Javier’s charm, letting him take the lead in most of the conversations, but you could tell that even he was getting exhausted. 

It had been about an hour and a half since the two of you arrived, spending most of your time mingling with the other guests, blending into the crowd as you awaited an opportunity to speak with Lee. But he was apparently a very important man, constantly being whisked away by other people before you could even approach him. He was constantly moving between floors, meaning that even you had to get his attention for a good while to allow Javier a chance to get into his room.

The two leaned side by side at the bar now, each of you nursing a small glass of some brandy. He had his arm around your shoulders, and you observed the crowd with disinterested eyes. Lee was currently in conversation with two other men, and he had been for the last ten minutes. 

Your feet were aching, and the corset was tiring, but it did its job as a distraction. More often than not, you watched men’s eyes roam over your body as Javier talked, and they seemed more eager to answer his questions and engage, if you didn't have a bit longer to look at you. It made you feel disgusted, but you could handle it for a night. But, thankfully, no one had laid their hands on you, mainly because your ‘husband’ was beside you most of the night.

The man beside you bent towards your ear, voice barely audible over the sounds of the party. “Are you doing alright?”

You smiled half-heartedly. “I’m ready to be done.”

“You and me both,” he chuckled dryly. 

“I will say, it’s much more bearable because of you.”

He didn’t respond, but he pulled you in closer. Because his arm was across your shoulders, he had access to exposed skin, and you felt him lightly dance his fingers across it. It felt quite nice, and you felt yourself begin to unwind. 

That was until you watched from across the room as Arthur raised his hands up, in a heated disagreement with another man. You nudged Javier, gesturing over to Arthur with a nod. “I swear, we can’t bring him anywhere.”

Javier laughed. “That we can’t. I’ll be right back, mi amor.” Kissing the top of your head, he removed himself from you, and you felt cold at the lack of contact.You already missed his hands on you, and despite what you believed, the growing fire inside of you didn’t cool down at all when he stopped touching you. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, right? As he made his way toward the cowboy, you heard him begin to defuse the situation; his honeyed words could cool down even the most aggravated people.

As you watched, trying and failing to keep your eyes off the way his hips swayed as he walked, a new presence made themselves known beside you, on the opposite side of where Javier once stood. Taking a sip of your drink, you glanced up at the new figure, nearly choking on your drink when you saw who it was. 

“You enjoyin’ the party, ma’am?”

“I am, Mr. Reginald.” Time to turn on the charm. “The name’s Anna. Anna Howard.” You extended a hand towards him, which he took. He kissed the back of your hand, and you were successful in fighting the urge to pull it away. You were able to get a closer look at him, pretending to look interested in him as you did so. He was older, probably around Hosea’s age, with a scrappy white beard that scratched against your skin even through the glove. His longer hair was slicked back, and he had almost unsettling blue eyes that didn’t even bother to look into yours. His white skin was blotched with red, his cheeks ruddy with drink.

“A lovely name for a lovely woman,” he murmured as he straightened, flashing you a smile that you figured was supposed to be appealing. His teeth were partially rotten, and looked the color of turmeric, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath. But he didn’t let go of your hand. “And you can just call me Lee.”

Pushing back your disgust, you smiled back at him. “A pleasure, Lee. You really know how to throw a marvelous party.”

Disregarding your compliment, you watched his eyes flick to Javier, a look of disdain in his eyes. “Is that your husband?”

Following his eyes, you watched as Javier escorted the man that Arthur was arguing with away, but his eyes were on you, an unspoken question in his eyes. Am I good to sneak away? What you didn’t notice was the barely restrained anger, jaw clenching and unclenching as he watched what was unfolding. You nodded, both at Javier and Lee, and you turned your attention away from Javier. “He is,” you laced your words with disappointment, and you could tell he heard it. “Married for two years.”

Before you could react, you felt the hand still grasping yours rip your glove away, a pleased grin on his face as he examined your hand. You let out a shocked gasp, which he took at you enjoying what he just did, his grin turning even larger. “I thought I didn’t feel a ring.”

“Don’t tell him,” you winked. He let go of your hand, shaking his head with a smile while handing you back your glove, which you slipped back on. You were killing this man in your mind, but you forced your face to seem flustered.

“Any children?”

You shook your head. “It ain’t for a lack of tryin’, though.” You laughed, and he joined in as well. He has still yet to make eye contact with you, eyes practically glued to the rest of your body. Pushing your chest forward, you watch his gross eyes widen. Grabbing your clutch from under your arm, you reapplied the rouge, and for once you watched his eyes flick to your face. Popping your lips, you tucked the rouge away, and you saw how he tracked every movement of yours. You had him right where you wanted him. Now you just needed to give Javier about fifteen to twenty minutes, then he’d be whisking you away, Arthur in tow, and then you’d never have to see this man again.

“I’m surprised your husband let you go out in somethin’ like this,” you felt him run the back of his hand against the bodice of your dress, running just under the cup of your breasts. You stiffened under his touch, but you were thankful that his body language comprehension was absolutely terrible, because he seemed to think you were liking it. You saw Arthur begin to approach the two of you, but he stayed close enough away to not interfere with what was happening, but he was ready to do anything if things went south. 

“Actually, he chose it for me, for tonight.”

“So he likes parading his wife around, like she’s a whore.” 

His words had your blood turning cold, your heartbeat hammering in your ears, and you wanted nothing more than to tear yourself away. You steeled yourself, trying to not seem as affected as you were. “Whatever makes him happy.”

He laughed at that. “You like it, no?”

“I-”

“You like havin’ everyone else’s eyes on you, don’t you. I mean, you were practically pushing your tits to my face a moment ago. You that desperate for attention, huh? Your husband not givin’ you enough?” You wanted to roll your eyes. For the love of…

“I’m sorry, it’s just,” you began to cry, a neat little trick you could pull out whenever you felt like it. “Old habits are hard to break, you know?” You elaborated more. “I used to offer my services to men… that’s how we met. He used to be so sweet.” You laughed bitterly. “But, ever since we got married, he hasn’t been treatin’ me right, always seeing’ other women, comin’ home late, and…” you took a moment to breathe, letting a tear escape from your eye, no doubt smuggling the kohl around it. “And he’s left me so unsatisfied. I wish I never married him!” You were playing into exactly what he wanted to hear, and he was hanging on to every word you said.

He cooed at you, demeaning in every sense of the word. “You poor thing,” his hand tugged at your waist, pulling you into him. 

You tried to push him away, arguing that he might see, but he chuckled. “Look around. He’s nowhere to be seen. He’s probably got his hands on another woman right now. Isn’t that terrible?” He pulled you in close to him with a hand on your hip, and you shuddered.

You nodded, looking around for Javier. Just as he had said, he was gone, and you were content with that, the job going smoothly. “What kinda woman am I, who can’t keep her own husband loyal to her?”

“It’s not your fault, sweet thing. I’m not sure how any man could be unfaithful to a beautiful thing like you…” both hands now wrapped around your waist, pulling your back into him. His lips tickled your ear as he whispered to you, and you held back a gag at the stench. “How ‘bout I show you how a real man treats his woman.” You couldn’t even respond before he was pulling you towards one of the stairs by your hand. He had an iron grip on you, and you found yourself unable to pull away. Glancing behind you, you saw Arthur trying to follow you, but he was stopped by a group that were claiming very loudly that they knew him, getting more and more aggressive by the minute. He looked understandably panicked, eyes not leaving you as he tried to push through the group surrounding him. You mouthed I’m alright, despite the panic that threatened to overwhelm you. 

“Right now?” You sounded calm, much to your surprise. He nodded, not even looking back at you. “What about the party?”

“It’ll be there when we’re done.”

Shit. It had only been about seven minutes since the two of you had started talking, not nearly enough time for Javier to be done. And if he was taking you to his room, that’ll probably be where the bonds are located, and, in turn, where Javier would be currently trying to rob him. So much for the job going smoothly. 

But you didn’t want to raise suspicion, so you went along with Lee, keeping as much distance away from his as you could. He kept his iron grip, nearly causing you to stumble up the stairs, your shoes catching on the carpet. His hands were so much worse than Javier’s, demanding and harsh; the hands belonged to someone who didn’t take ‘no’ for an answer. 

When you reached the top floor, you let your facade drop slightly, looking around for some exit. Every door looked the same, a deep mahogany, and the hallway seemed to extend to infinity as he marched down it. A thin rug extended down the center of the floor, and so you tried your hardest to walk along the hardwood floor, praying that Javier would hear the approaching noise of your heels. 

Wordlessly, he suddenly halted in front of one of the doors, opening it quickly, pulling you in forcefully. It was at that point you were debating screaming. Would someone come help you? Would they be able to even hear you over the party? Lee was not a large man by any means, old and scrawny, but he still had the upper hand right now. And you didn’t know if he had any weapons on him, and you weren’t too keen on finding out. 

The room, thankfully, was devoid of any other people besides you and Lee. He finally let go of your wrist, and you snatched it close to you, rubbing at the hurt skin. He stepped further into the room, passing by a large closet and dresser that housed a washbin before reaching the bed. Keeping his back turned to you, he slowly began to undress. Now, you debated running out the door behind you. You knew you probably wouldn’t be able to get far, your shoes and dress restricting you from moving easily.

Your mind was made, however, when you saw the closet door creak open, and you barely suppressed a surprised noise. A familiar figure stood hidden in the shadows, various jackets and garments hiding him further, and you nearly cried in relief. It was at that point you noticed the large desk and safe in the corner, your theory that his bonds would be in his room being right. Javier tried to exit, but you stopped him with a panicked look. One slight turn from Lee and he would see. Even in the dark, you could see the conflict on his face, and you held up a finger, telling him to wait. He nodded, and you saw the glint of a blade, which helped to ease your worries. 

“Are you just gonna stand there?” Lee’s gruff voice made you jump, and you turned your attention back to him. He still had his back to you, working off his tie and unbuttoning his shirt, his jacket discarded on the bed. 

You didn’t dignify him with a response, making your way to the large window that faced the streets of Saint Denis. It was partially open, a cool night’s breeze tickling your skin. “Don’t think about jumping,” you heard him try to joke, but it came out more as a threat. He had sat on the bed as you approached the window, and you heard the wooden frame creak as he got up. You retrieved the hidden blade from your clutch, pulling off the fake comb top. It was a tiny little thing, a needle compared to the hunting knife you saw Javier frequently use, but it could cause some damage if need be. 

Holding it to your chest, your breathing slowed as you heard him approach, floorboards creaking with each slow step. “I’ll make sure you get paid after this.”

“I said I was a working girl.”

He scoffed. “Sure, whatever makes you feel better.” He took another step towards you. “Get on the bed.”

With the assurance that Javier was also in the room, you found yourself surprisingly confident, shaking your head at his question. That pissed him off, and you could feel the anger beginning to roll off of him. Still, you faced away from him, gripping the blade so tightly that your fingers ached.

“It wasn’t a question. Get on the bed.”

“And I said no.”

In surprising swiftness, you felt his fingers grasp at the back of your neck, and you figured he would’ve gone for your hair if it wasn’t pinned up. His fingers had merely grazed your skin before you were spinning around, the blade flying at his face with unrestrained fury. A streak of crimson cut through the air as you hit your mark, the blade running across the entire side of his face, barely missing his eye by a quarter of an inch. He stumbled back a few feet, shocked, clutching the side of his face. 

Blood poured from his fingers, and he looked up at you with hate in his eyes. “You whore! C’mere!” Lee attempted to lunge for you, but was easily stopped Javier wrapped his hand around the face of the man, muffling him as he pulled him down to the ground. His knife pressed into the delicate skin of his neck, pressing so hard that droplets of blood began to appear. A shocked noise that turned into a muffled noise left Lee’s mouth, turning into a cry when Javier dug the knife in deeper. A satisfied smirk graced his lips when he heard Lee reduced to a whimpering mess, and his blazing eyes found yours. 

Ignoring your desire, you sighed in relief, and you let your arms loosen, the blade falling to your side. “What do you want to do with him, mi amor?” Javier sounded almost breathless, and you watched as the blood from Lee’s wound began to coat Javier’s hand. 

A part of you wanted to see him dead on the floor, but you refrained yourself. “Let him live,” was all you said, not bothering to give an explanation, not that you had one; you just didn't want him to die. 

Not yet, that is.

Letting out a sigh that almost sounded like disappointment, Javier adjusted his blade so that it was no longer completely digging into Lee’s skin. “You’re lucky that I listen to what she tells me, cabrón. If she wasn’t here, you’d be long dead. You know what…” Javier moved his hand so that it no longer covered his mouth, but he kept his blade where it was, ready to move if he decided to make a noise. “Why don’t you tell her how thankful you are that she spared your miserable life?”

Lee took a few shuddering breaths, tears mixing in with the blood that streaked down his face. “T-Thank you,” he rushed out, eyes squinting closed as he braced himself for the final blow from Javier.

“And…”

“And?” Lee practically squawked. 

“You said some pretty nasty things to her. Maybe you ought to apologize.” You watched Javier’s jaw clench as he recalled the small bit he heard, and it was evident that he was using every ounce of restraint in his body to not just end Lee then and there. If he knew what all was said to you, then Lee would be lifeless right now.

“I’m sorry!” Lee cried out, and Javier gave an approving noise in response. You couldn’t care less if he apologized to you. Quite honestly, it was much more rewarding watching Javier force the man into submission. You realized watching him like this was turning you on, growing increasingly warmer despite the cold air from the window. 

You needed to speak to a doctor. Or a priest. 

“Very good,” Javier praised, his voice gravelly. “Now that that’s out of the way.” With ease, you watched him flip the knife around his fingers, now holding it in a way that allowed him to bash the butt of it against Lee’s head. He fell to the ground like a sack, body hitting floor with a thud. 

You weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself, too many emotions running through your body. Anxiety still persisted in your brain, reminiscing over all the what ifs and scenarios that could have transpired if Javier hadn’t been in the room. You were grateful that he was here, and there was that feeling in your chest again, increasing with every beat of your heart. And much to your surprise and embarrassment, you found yourself aroused, every fiber of your being needing Javier.

He stood in front of you know, deep concern in his eyes as he regarded you. You watched as he raised his hands up, ready to wrap his arms around you, until he saw the blood on his hand, and realized you wouldn’t want to be touched right now. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Without saying anything, you placed the blade back into your clutch, not bothering to recover it back up. You grabbed the handkerchief instead, and you felt his eyes on you as you grasped his wrist gently with your other hand, pulling it towards you. He had his jacket on still, which did enough to hide the blood that stained his clothes, but a few specks still dotted the white sleeves of his shirt that poked out.

Pulling him toward the wash bin, you dipped the handkerchief into the water before you got to work on wiping away his skin. He tried to protest, but you cut him off with a gentle yet firm look.Javier set his blade on the dresser, and the two of you stood in silence, the only sound your breathing and the occasional splash of water as you redipped the handkerchief into it. The water turned from clear to a rusty brown as you worked, which you watched with rapt attention, scared of how you would react when you looked into his eyes. 

As you dipped it into the water for the final time, Javier finally spoke, his voice still a bit raspy. “Guess you don’t need those knife lessons, then.”

You chuckled, setting the rag down on the dresser as it turned into a loud laughter that shook your body. You weren’t quite sure why you were responding like this, but you figured it was probably shock. You didn’t even register that you were crying until you felt his freshly cleaned hands rest on the sides of your face tentatively, growing more confident when you nodded your consent. He murmured your name softly, brushing your tears away with his thumbs. “Mierda, sorry. It was a bad joke…”

“It was funny,” you said through tears. “It’s just… God, I felt so weak. I haven’t felt that scared since… forever.”

“I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” 

You shook your head, mouth opening to respond, but a fresh wave of tears threatened to overwhelm you. Not trusting yourself to speak, you practically crashed yourself against his chest. Javier cried out softly, startled, as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him in close in a tight hug. His familiar scent helped to calm you, and when you felt him reciprocate the hug, strong arms tight around you, you felt your heart rate begin to slow. You're sure your makeup was running on to his jacket, but it didn’t matter now; it was already dirty. 

His fingers traced soothing patterns on your back, and he rested his head on top of yours. You're not sure if he held you for a few moments or a few hours, time seemingly nonexistent beyond the two of you. But of course, reality was quick to catch up with you, the sound of the door being kicked down hardly pulling you from his embrace as you spun around, grabbing the knife on the dresser before Javier could.

Arthur stood in the doorway with his hands up, eyes flicking from the knife in your hands to the man unconscious on the floor, quickly connecting the dots. “Don’t do that shit, Arthur,” you snapped, practically slamming the knife back down on the dresser. “I could’ve hurt you…”

“Are you alright?” He asked, typically not caring for his own safety. He approached you like you were a spooked horse, though, which was quickly annoying you.

“What do you think, you idiot?” A voice behind you interjected, and you felt him slide his hand across you back as he moved around you. His eyes were blazing with anger, getting into Arthur’s space. “What the hell happened?” You watched Javier shove the other man, which he took, guilt evident on his face, but you saw the angry storm clouds begin to roll in behind Arthur’s eyes. 

“You had one job, and you fucked it up!” Another shove, and you watched Arthur’s jaw clench. “You nearly got her assaulted!” Javier's voice had raised significantly in volume, emotion causing his voice to break ever so slightly as he spoke. “How did you-”

“You think I don’t know that?” Arthur finally snapped, which was a hard thing to do. Guilt probably snipped his fuse, and the immediate attack by Javier ignited it. “You don’t think I’ve been fightin’ like hell to get up here?” He scoffed. “It ain’t my fault you asked the most recognized man in camp to tag along with y’all!”

“Oh, so it’s my fault now?” Javier challenged. “You wanna know why, then, you asshole? Because you’re the only one I trust to make sure nothing happens to her,” he snarled, jabbing his finger into Arthur’s chest. “You think Micah, or Sean, or Bill would give two shits if someone dragged her away?” He shook his head with a sneer on his mouth. Arthur didn’t respond, but his silence was all that Javier needed. He took a breath, stepping back a few paces from Arthur. 

“You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to her, right?” Arthur’s voice was soft, which was surprising given the circumstance. “But you know she doesn’t need our constant protection, right?”

Whatever temporary peace that had been created between the two men shattered instantly, Javier getting right back into the other man’s face. “She didn’t even have a damn gun, Arthur. All she had was a tiny knife that could barely hurt a mouse. The only reason she managed to get him,” he pointed angrily at Lee, not bothering to turn his head to look at him, “was because she caught him off guard. And I know she doesn’t need my- our protection. I’ve seen her toss men double her size to the ground with ease, I’ve seen her knockout men with a single punch. I’ve seen it all.” Javier took a deep breath before continuing. “But that was when she was free to move, without having that goodman dress on. She can barely even walk, let alone defend herself tonight.”

“You stepped in before anythin’ could happen.” Arthur tried to reassure the man.

“But what if I hadn’t? What if I had been in another room, too busy robbing that bastard to even notice? What if there had been more than one guy in here? What if he drugged her, or what if I didn’t hear her approaching down the hallway?” Javier began to pace as he ranted, running his fingers through his hair, pulling part of it out of the tie.

As entertaining and endearing as it was to hear them argue about you, you were tired of being talked about like you weren’t even there. Clearing your throat gently, you got their attention, Arthur giving you an apologetic smile. Javier took a little bit longer to catch your eye, having to turn around to do so, but you watched as the fire in him immediately fizzled out as he looked at you, any anger left in his body leaving in a final shaky exhale. 

You smiled gently, folding your hands in front of you. You had taken your gloves off during their disagreement, the garments becoming wet while you cleaned Javier’s hands, and you had tucked them away into your bag. You watched as his gaze went down to your intertwined hands, a smile about to grace his own lips before it was overtaken by a shocked gasp.

Everyone’s eyes in the room followed where Javier was looking, with similar reactions across the board. Where Lee had gripped you was an already bruise in the shape of his hand, encompassing almost the entirety of your wrist. You hadn’t realized he grabbed you that hard. Looking back up, you saw an outraged look on Arthur’s face, but it was nothing compared to the sheer hatred and disgust on Javier’s. You were grateful that you still had his knife by you, or else Lee’s blood would be spilt right now. 

A combination of curses and Spanish left Javier’s lips as he pulled away from Arthur, finally giving the other man space. You expected him to make his way over to you, which he started to do, but he halted a few steps in. Confused, you cocked a brow at him, and he just shook his head, backing away backwards toward the door. “I’m gonna get the carriage,” you heard him mutter, eyes fixated on the bruise on your wrist as he continued to back away. 

“Javier-” you tried to stop him, but it was clear he wasn’t in the right headspace to listen. 

“I’ll see you in a minute, mi amor.” And with that, he left you and Arthur alone in stunned silence. 

Trying to not seem too upset, you forced a smile on your face, which probably looked as pained as it felt. “Do you think he got the bonds?” You asked, and the other man looked confused. “You know, the thing we came for?”

Recognition flashed across Arthur’s face, and he shook his head. “Don’t think so. Didn’t have enough time, probably. Why?” You briskly made your way over to the safe, getting down on your knees ready to begin cracking it open. “After all that, you’re still worried about the bonds?” Arthur asked in disbelief. 

“After all that, I ain’t returnin’ to camp empty handed. Now, tie him up for me,” you gestured at Lee, and Arthur nodded. 

“Yes, ma’am,” he muttered, but he still complied, and you rolled your eyes before preparing yourself to get to work. You weren’t an expert at cracking safes by any means, but you could get it done with enough time. The metal was cold against your face as you pressed it against it, listening to the inner workings of the safe. You were able to see Arthur move out of the corner of your eye as you began to turn the dial slowly, listening for the telltale click. 

It was when Arthur finished tying up the man that you heard the first click, and you glanced down to see what the first digit of the code was. 

34. 

Moving the dial to the right, you felt Arthur watch you while you worked, but you paid him no mind. That was until you heard him talk, nearly causing you to jump because of how focused you were on the safe. “You know, I haven’t seen Javier that angry in years. He used to be filled with hate and anger toward the world, but it died down as the years passed.” 

You merely hummed along, not fully paying attention to his words. Another click hit your ears, and you took a mental note of the next number. 28. Arthur continued. “I’m still surprised he’s still callin’ you that, like you don’t know what it means.”

Your curious eyes flicked to him, and realization dawned on his face. He laughed with an almost childish grin. “You don’t know what it means, do ya’?”

You sighed. “No, ‘cause everytime I ask, no one tells me! Especially you! Now, hush. I’m tryin’ to concentrate.” Arthur left you alone then, and you continued to turn the dial slowly to the left, waiting to find the final digit for the safe. 

Finally, the third click rang throughout the room, the final digit being 4. The safe door creaked open, exposing its contents to you and Arthur. Inside contained a stack of papers, which you assumed to be bonds, a few clips of cash, and a small gold ingot. With a satisfactory smile, you gestured for Arthur to bring you your clutch, which he did. You pulled the gloves out, quickly slipping them back on even though they were wet. All paper items went into the bag (and you were sure to make sure the blade did not wreck them), and you took the ingot into your own hands. It always caught you off guard, how heavy gold ingots actually were. 

You stood up, heading over to the dresser and grabbing Javier’s knife while handing Arthur the gold ingot, which he stashed away. Where, you weren’t quite sure, but it disappeared from sight. You had just enough room to place the knife in your bag, the thing barely closing before you tucked it under your arm. You left the soiled handkerchief on the dresser, and you started to move towards the door before Arthur’s voice stopped you. “He’s callin’ you ‘his love’.”

“What?”

“Mi amor,” Arthur’s Spanish wasn’t even comparable to Javier’s, but it was understandable. “It translates to ‘my love’.”

You were stunned, blinking back at him with wide eyes. “You’re kiddin’ me.” Arthur shook his head. “This entire time he’s been callin’ me-” you cut yourself off, rubbing a hand down your face, being careful to not smudge the makeup completely. “So you mean to tell me, that instead of me livin’ in constant doubt about how he felt about me, I could’ve known, but you and everyone back at camp refused to tell me?”

Arthur rubbed nervously at the back of his neck, guilt once again eating away at him. He didn’t respond, so you laughed bitterly. “Now I’m startin’ to regret that I didn’t end up hurtin’ you earlier.” Huffing angrily, you didn’t spare either Arthur or the man tied up on the bed a glance, quickly reaching the door in angry strides. “C’mon. I wanna leave this damn place.”

Arthur didn’t need to be told twice, following behind you as you marched down the hallway and back down the stairs. It was easy to slip away from the party, everyone was too drunk or too busy in conversation to notice. The silence outside was a complete shock to your system, your ears ringing loudly as you took a deep breath. 

Just like he said, Javier was waiting beside the carriage, eyes following you as you descended the stairs. It melted any cold from the night, and like in the party, you felt that need for more grow inside you. You felt Arthur move behind you, cutting across the front lawn to reach his horse. As you reached the carriage, Bill’s voice broke the silence. “You get the whiskey?”

Shit. “No, I’m sorry. Things went bad in there.”

Bill sighed, disappointed, but he didn’t speak further. “Here,” you dug out one of the clips of money, practically having to toss it at him, “it ain’t whiskey, but it’s just as good in my opinion.”

The corners of his mouth tugged up, and you knew that he accepted your new gift, tucking it away into his jacket pocket. Javier uncrossed his arms once you were within reach, once again helping you into the carriage. You could practically feel the tension from him, his entire body tightly coiled as you settled into your seat.

Again, you expected to follow in behind you, but he was quickly shutting the door. You stopped it with your hand, and he stopped immediately. “You’re not comin’ in?” Your voice was dispirited, and Javier frowned as he shook his head once. 

“You don’t want-”

“Don’t tell me what I want, Javier.” You cut him off, shocking yourself with your directness. “Get in here.”

Wordlessly, he obeyed, sitting across from you again. It looked like he had a thousand things to say, but he remained silent. Bill almost immediately took off, but you better prepared than last time, managing to not lurch forward. To say the air between the two of you was awkward would be an understatement, and you found yourself looking out the window, watching the streetlights as you passed them. 

After about a minute of silence, you saw Javier shift out of the corner of your eye, so you refocused your attention on him. “I’m sorry,” you heard him murmur, barely audible over the hoofs of the horses and the sound of the wheels rolling over the cobblestone. 

“Javier, you couldn’t have known that would happen,” you sighed, wanting nothing more than to take his hand in yours. “And I knew that things could go bad tonight.”

“It’s not that. Well, I am sorry about that, I’m not sayin’ I’m not, but-” he paused for a moment, recollecting his thoughts. “I’m sorry about the way I acted. And for talking like you weren’t right there. And for implying that you couldn’t protect yourself. I’m sorry, for all of it.”

“I’m not the one you should be apoligzin’ to,” you laughed lightly, and you felt successful when you saw a light smile on Javier. “And emotions were high tonight, and even the best of us snap sometimes. And you weren’t completely wrong about the dress,” you adjusted the bodice of said dress, trying and failing to gain more room to move.  “But, thank you. It… it means a lot.”

A lot of the tension dissipated from Javier as you accepted his apology, leaning back against the back of his seat finally. He had taken off his jacket while he was gone, leaving him only in his vest, necktie and undershirt, and the sleeves had been rolled up, hiding the splotches of blood from view. Even in the dim light, you were able to clearly see the definition of his forearms flexing against the shirt, even more so when he crossed his arms against his chest. 

Thick veins traveled down his hands and arms, and you couldn’t stop the thoughts of what those hands might be able to do to you from running through your head. It surprised you, having these thoughts. If you had had these thoughts days, or even hours ago, your mind would be spiraling into a panic. Instead, you found your mind spiraling into lustful thoughts, and you found yourself having to look away, cheeks growing warm. 

Javier didn’t seem to notice your staring, too deep in thought to do so. After a few moments of silence, he finally spoke again. “Why didn’t you have me kill him?” Anger flashed in his eyes at the thought of the other man, but he kept in check.

You still weren’t quite sure, and you voiced that to Javier. “I think I didn’t want you to because I was having a good night, and watching someone die kinda ruins that.” If your words were blunt, Javier didn’t seem to care. 

“A ‘good’ night?” Javier looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “Mi amor, if that’s your idea of a ‘good’ night then…” he trailed off.

Now knowing what he was saying, you felt your heart skip a beat. You should’ve realized a long time ago what it meant, you realized. His voice was always filled with adoration when he said it, and a bashful yet cocky smirk would follow. “Besides the last twenty minutes,” you laughed. “I was having a good night because I was with you, my love.” It felt like a confession, and you kept your voice low, but you were sure to add extra emphasis on the final two words.

Javier’s eyes widened, forearms flexing as he readjusted his crossed arm. “Finally figured it out, then?” He teased, but there was an underlying panic in his voice, not aware if you liked it or not. 

You nodded, diverting your gaze as you prepared for your next question. “Do you mean it?” Your voice was small, vulnerable.

Javier responded with a confused noise. Shifting nervously, your hands felt clammy under the gloves. “Do you mean it when you call me ‘my love’? ‘Cause I know you like me, and that’s great…  but I want to know.” Do you love me? You breathed shakily. Why was this so hard? 

Silence fell over the carriage, and you dared to look back at the man across from you. His arms now rested on his elbow, and when he noticed your attention was back on him he smiled, extending a hand for you to grab. When you did, he covered it with his other, kissing the back of it before doing so. You almost wished at that point that you hadn’t put your gloves back on, wanting to feel his lips against your skin. 

“I said I would never lie to you, and I mean it. I never said anything to you that I didn’t believe.” He shifted closer to you, your knees pressing against each other. “I mean it, every single time. I…” It would’ve been funny, in any other context, to see Javier at a loss for words. “I know there are thousands of different ways I could say this, but I can’t remember a single one. It’s like my brain just turns off whenever I’m near you,” he chuckled.

Your heart was hammering so loudly in your chest that you were sure Javier could hear it. It burned where your hands were connected, but it was a delicious pain, one that you never wanted to be rid of. It was reassuring to know that you weren’t the only one who got nervous around the other, then. 

“So, I guess I’ll keep it simple, then. I love you, and, if you’ll have me, I want… you. I want to be by your side, through the good and the bad. I want to wake up by your side, your voice the first thing I hear every morning. I want to know your thoughts, your fears, your desires.” He sighed, smiling. “I, well, I guess all that was to say I mean it.”

You expected to feel a sense of dread, some sort of anxiety over your changing relationship, and what that could possibly lead to, but you found none. Before you could even register what you were doing, you were leaning into him, pressing a light kiss against his cheek. It wasn’t long, lips barely there for even a second before you were leaning away. You gasped slightly when you saw the red mark left there by you; apparently you still had more makeup on than you thought. Between curses and apologies, you began to wipe it away with your cloth covered thumb, which seemed to just smear it around. 

A light tug at your hand had you stopping, your name being said softly focusing your attention back on to the man. He didn’t seem to mind that your lipstick was now on his face, and his eyes were filled with unbridled love as they danced across your face, before finally settling on your lips, then back up into your eyes. His hand was no longer holding yours, instead it was trailing up your arm, up your neck, finding purchase on the side of your face, holding you with such reverence that it almost brought tears to your eyes. 

His eyes went back down to your lips, a soft plea in his gaze. “Let me kiss you,” Javier asked, restraint pulling his voice down an octave. Slowly, you brought your hand up, brushing away a few strands of hair that had been pulled from the tie. His eyes closed at your touch, a pleased noise escaping his mouth. Those same eyes opened when he felt you nod, and you hadn’t realized how easy it was to get lost in them until this moment.

He closed the distance between the two of you, thumb brushing your cheek as your lips finally connected. It felt like everything finally clicked into place, like the final piece of a puzzle. Everything felt right, and you sighed happily against his mouth, resting your hands on his thighs.

It was a short kiss, merely testing the waters, with Javier pulling away first. He rested his head against yours, simply savoring the moment. A quiet, giddy giggle left you, causing Javier to raise a brow. “It’s nothin’… I’m just happy.” It was almost childish, the reason you were really giggling, but who wouldn’t be happy after their first kiss.

“Good,” he murmured, before a concerned look crossed his face.

“What?” You asked, immediately thinking the worst. 

“It’s your lipstick.” The thumb that was on your cheek shifted to your lips, running against the lower one.

“What about it?” You had no idea where he was going with this. 

“It’s not nearly wrecked enough,” he lamented, and you felt his thumb pull your lip slightly, causing the rouge to smear. 

“Are you gonna fix it, then?” You challenged, slowly running your hands slowly up and down his thighs. You’re not sure where this sudden burst of confidence was coming from, but you weren’t complaining. All you knew is that you wanted his mouth on yours again. 

“Gladly,” Javier purred, pulling your face to him as he kissed you again. Instead of simply holding his lips to yours, you felt him begin to move this time. It was messy and passionate and it had your head spinning. Gripping on to his legs tighter, you were able to ground yourself. That was until you felt his tongue run against your bottom lip.

You gasped, pulling away an inch to give yourself a moment to breathe, all the foreign sensations causing you to become breathless. Javier, with some visible restraint, didn’t chase after you, giving you a moment to collect yourself. It was at that point that you felt that you almost had a death grip on the man’s legs, and you let go with a soft apology. 

He paid it no mind, and you felt his hold on your face lax a bit. “You’ve never kissed before, have you?” He wasn’t anywhere close to being rude about it, but the question still had your blood running cold.

Embarrassed, you felt your face flush even more. You tried to pull away, but he kept you close. You shook your head, not wanting to admit it out loud. “Was it that obvious?” You mumbled, quite upset. Javier went to respond, and you braced yourself for the words that your brain trained you to expect. 

What you weren’t expecting was him to be smiling at you, thumb rubbing reassuringly on your cheek again. “I only noticed because you seemed less confident,” Javier explained, with no hint of judgment in his voice. “I guess we need to practice some more, then,” he added with a playful grin. 

“I love you,” you whispered, before your hands were grabbing both sides of his face and smashing his lips against yours, both of you smiling into the kiss. Any remnant of anxiety about him vanished as you kissed him, feeling more relaxed than you’ve felt in a while. You pulled him toward you as you sat back in your seat, ignoring the way that the bodice of your dress pressed uncomfortably into your skin. You couldn't be bothered to feel it; all that your senses could feel was him. 

He followed as you brought him close, getting on his knees on the carriage floor as he kept his lips locked on yours. Even despite being on the ground, his face was still relatively level with yours, if only a few inches lower. You felt him settle between your legs, at least as best he could with your skirt, hands resting on your hips. 

Unlike the other two kisses before, this one had a secondary intent behind it, and you felt that fire in your core return, arousal making you dizzy. You wanted more, and you’re sure that Javier was more than eager to give it to you. One of the hands that grasped his face moved behind him, discarding your gloves to somewhere in the carriage before quickly undoing the tie that held his dark hair in place, causing it to fall around his head. Greedily you ran your fingers through it, a pleased groan felt on Javier’s lips as you combed it. 

A nip from him had you gasping, offering him an opportunity to sneak his tongue into your mouth. The act surprised you, inadvertently causing you to grasp his hair, pulling the strands into a fist. You felt him moan in response, the hands on your hips squeezing tighter, but he didn’t move them. Pulling him impossibly closer, you tried your best to keep up with the quick movements of his mouth, moving your lips in tandem with his. You were always a quick learner, anyway.

An aggressive jolt from the carriage forced the two of you to separate, gasps and pants filling the silence. Moonlight filtered in, and you were able to see Javier clearly now. You realized you had never seen him with his hair down before, and beautiful wasn’t even close to the right word to describe him. He looked ethereal, and he was all yours, making your heart thrum happily in your chest. 

“You should have your hair down more,” was all you said, smoothing your hand over it. It was soft, well taken care of, and you wanted to keep your hands in it forever. 

“Whatever my girl wants,” he responded, pure bliss on his face. You didn’t even bother to hide the happy noise that left you when you heard him call you his girl. 

Glancing down at his lips, you saw they were practically the same color as yours now, smeared messily across the lower half of his face. You’re sure you looked just as bad, and you registered that it would be hard to hide what the two of you got up to from the rest of camp. But you found that you didn’t care that much. 

An image flashed in your head as you watched him; his exposed chest covered in your kiss marks, from his neck to his hips, a pretty ring of red rouge around his cock. The thought  had you subconsciously rubbing your thighs together, trying to ease the growing tension that was starting to become unbearable, but it was hard to do when there was someone between them. 

Javier honed in on the movement immediately, working at his bottom lip as he stared up at you with blown out eyes. “More?” He asked, the word sounding breathy. 

You nodded, carding your fingers back through his hair to pull him back to you. After meeting you for a quick kiss, you felt him travel down your jaw, peppering kisses along as he did so. You laughed lightly when you felt him move to your neck, the soft prickle of his facial hair tickling you, and he smiled against your skin. 

The hands of your hips began to explore now, one rising up your front, touching lightly over the bodice, causing you to shiver. His other hand traveled downward, down your thigh and past your knee, until it was wrapping around your calf. He wrapped your stocking covered leg around his back, causing your shoe to fall off in the process, hitting the floor with a dull noise. 

Satisfied, the hand on your leg moved to join the other, stopping once he reached the underside of your breasts. Instead of running his hands over the mounds, he bypassed them completely, running his hands across your shoulders delicately. For the first time, his bare hands were on your skin, and it was everything you’d ever wanted. They were deliciously rough, years of hard living making them so, and a number of calluses adorning the tips from playing stringed instruments, but they also felt like silk, rolling across your body like water. It caused another shiver to wrack your body, and he chuckled, vibrations falling from his chest into yours. 

“You’re so responsive,” he noted, his normally smooth voice gravelly. His lips traveled further down your neck, showering your lower neck and collarbones with apt attention. “No one’s touched you like this before, no?” He stated rather than asked, and your silence was a more than adequate answer. “What a shame. They don’t know what they’ve missed.”

“I don’t care,” you said with sheer honesty. “Damn everyone else. I only want your hands on me.”

You felt him pull at the back of your head, pulling you into a searing kiss before pulling away slightly, face mere inches from yours. “Let me make you feel good.” Curious, you gave an inquisitive noise, playing with his hair as you did so. He was already making you feel good, so you weren’t quite sure what he was trying to say.

He let out a small chuckle at your confused expression, pressing a light kiss to the tip of your nose, which was an innocently sweet gesture. His next words were less than innocent, another wave of arousal crashing through you as he spoke. “Let me taste you. I need to feel you fall apart on my mouth.”

You’d be lying if you said that his filthy words weren’t getting you incredibly turned on, but a deep feeling of embarrassment overtook you, and you would’ve turned your head away if you could, but you were forced to just avert your gaze.

“Don’t go getting shy on me now, mi amor,” Javier teased, attempting to get your eyes back on him. “It takes more than a few words to get my girl nervous, hm?”

Laughing mostly at yourself, you finally looked into his eyes, a calming smile greeting you. “So, what say you? Are you going to let me eat you out?” He said it so nonchalantly, like it wasn’t completely turning you into a mess. Forcing back the shame, you nodded, not trusting your voice. Javier wasn’t satisfied, and with a disapproving noise he placed another kiss on your nose, causing you to laugh lightly. “Use your words.”

Javier was giving you a second chance to change your mind, you realized, not wanting you to do something that you would regret. It was a nice gesture, but what he didn’t know was that you made up your mind hours ago; you needed him so badly that it almost hurt. “Please,” you responded, your mouth was moving faster than your brain.

He didn’t respond, smiling gratefully at you, like you just offered him something luxurious. One final kiss met your lips before he was descending your body, trailing back over where his lips had been moments prior. One of your hands tangled in his hair when you felt him ghost his lips across the top of your breasts, grinning when he felt the goosebumps form. He didn’t stay there long, a single goal on his mind as he descended further down. 

When he no longer had exposed skin to kiss, he rested his head by your knees, staring up at you adoringly as his hands continued to travel down. In the back of your mind, you remembered hearing stories from the girls at camp about lovers they had, how they treated going down on a woman like a chore, or how some just outright refused to do. The hungry glint in his eye and the almost desperate touch of his hand told you that you didn’t have to worry about that. 

When he reached your hips, he pulled you forward, forcing you to lean back further in order for your back to reach the back of your seat. If you barely had any airflow then, you had none now, a sharp pain growing in your lungs as you shifted around, trying to get comfortable. Javier quickly noticed this, a concerned frown pulling at his lips. “Dress,” you gasped out, and he quickly got to work unworking the bow and laces that held the corset bodice tight, a pleased sigh leaving you as you felt it loosen its grip on your body. He didn’t undo it completely, the garment still on well enough to keep your body from being exposed, but it was enough that you could get more comfortable.

You didn’t even get to mutter out a ‘thank you’ before he was getting back to it, hands pulling apart your thighs. Your skirt had bunched up when he had pulled your leg around his back, giving him enough room to sneak his head between your spread legs. Your skirt still covered the entirety of his head, only peeks of hair visible to you.

Warm breath caressed your sensitive inner thigh, and you fought the urge to wrap them around his face. Featherlight kisses were felt next, small jolts rocking through you with each touch, increasing in intensity as he reached your aching center. He tugged at the waistband at your undergarments, having you lift your hips slightly so he could peel them away. Pulling them all the way off, he set them somewhere on the seat behind him.

Your hips bucked when you felt him press a kiss to your exposed cunt, humming appreciatively when he felt your arousal, which had no doubt soaked through to your undergarments. “You’re this wet from kissing?” He asked, mostly to himself, and it was barely audible under your heavy clothing, but you felt the need to defend your dignity. 

“It wasn’t just the kissin’,” you managed to get out, hips bucking again when he yet again teased you with his mouth. You felt one of his arms sneak out from under your skirt, broad forearm settling across your waist to keep you in place. “Watchin’ you threaten him…”

You didn’t have to see him to know he had a cocky grin on his face. “That got you all bothered?” He asked, bewilderment and desire both lacing his question. Warm air hit you as he talked, causing you to squirm anticipatorily in your seat.“You’re a dirty little thing, aren’t you?”

“Only for you.”

You felt more than heard the responding growl, his grip tightening on your waist as he ran his tongue through your folds, almost immediately going back through for a second, a third, a fourth time. Rolling your head back, pleased noises tumbled from your lips, your other leg almost immediately joining your other around his back. You felt him mutter something, and the broad swipes of his tongue turned to short precise licks, targeting your clit with precise movements. 

The change in sensations had you crying out, hands scarbling at his arm as you tried to find something to hold on to. He chuckled lowly, the vibrations shooting straight to your core. “As much as I’d love to hear you, we don’t want anyone finding out what’s going on in here, do we?” You both knew damn well that nothing could be heard outside the carriage, but the idea of having to keep quiet to prevent your friends from knowing turned you on more than it should. Your body must’ve reacted some way, and you heard him groan appreciatively. “You are dirty.” He sounded a million miles away, but it still felt like his mouth was pressed to your ear. 

Now attempting to muffle yourself, you bit at your lips, most likely drawing blood. His mouth worked at you so much better than you could’ve imagined, your fingers nothing compared to this. Nothing you had ever done to please yourself had felt this good; now that you had a taste of what someone else could do to you, you never wanted to go back. 

A particularly rough flick of his tongue had you whining, pressing a hand on your mouth to stifle your cries. He brought out every drop of pleasure from your body with such ease, like it was second nature. You felt that familiar pressure begin to form in your abdomen, one that normally took you so much longer to reach yourself. He was almost too good at this, playing your body like it was his guitar, his talented mouth pulling noises from you like he was strumming his fingers across the strings. 

All thoughts left your mind when you felt his lips latch around your clit, sucking the toying with the sensitive nerves. A plethora of exclamations tumble from your lips, the most frequent one being his name. It seemed to spur him on even more, and you felt his free hand trail up your thigh, resting at the inner junction of your leg and hip. His fingers rubbed soothingly at the sensitive flesh as he continued his ministrations with his tongue. “Javi…” your voice was too breathless to complete his name, and you tried your best to warn him of your upcoming release, which was coming faster than you knew how to process. 

He didn’t verbally respond. Instead, you felt him adjust your lower body so that your hips were almost level with his face, your back hardly able to rest against your seat. The new angle made it hard to keep your legs wrapped around his lower back, so you let them go limp, no longer on the man. Javier didn’t seem to like this, almost immediately taking your legs and resting them on his shoulders, which was much more comfortable than the two previous positions. He hadn’t detached himself during the entire readjustment process, tongue and lips still expertly bringing you closer to your release.

The hand at your thigh moved inward, almost so slowly that you barely registered it. You moaned, slightly startled, when you felt those broad fingers spread you apart, tongue delving between them before almost immediately returning its attention to your clit. 

You felt him move his face downward, the new angle allowing him to do so with ease, his fingers following. Feeling them tease around your entrance, and you half-braced yourself for the intrusion you were sure was bound to happen with his fingers. Instead, you felt them move to where his tongue had been, rubbing them against you with the perfect amount of pressure and speed that had you crying out. His tongue instead teased around your entrance, pushing in a tiny bit before retracting, slowly easing you to take his tongue. 

The pressure in you increased tenfold as he slowly started to fuck you with his tongue, dexterous fingers adding to the ecstasy your body was feeling. “Javier, I’m close,” you managed to murmur out, before crying out again, barely able to muffle yourself this time. Your fingers dug into the muscle of his arm, most likely leaving crescent shaped indents from your nails. 

With his mouth quite preoccupied, the most he could do was groan something in response. Your muffled cries of his name turned to small gasps as pants, teetering closer and closer to reaching your peak. As best you could, you carded your fingers through the hand that held you down, desperately needing something to hold as you came. Without missing a beat, he flipped his hand so that his forearm still locked your hips down, but it gave you his hand to hold, your fingers shaky as you gripped his.

With a final cry of his name, your lips bruising from the way you clamped down on it, you felt your release wash over you. Your thighs clamped around his head, but he didn’t seem to mind, fingers and tongue not stopping as he drew out every bit of pleasure from your orgasm. Head thumping against the wall of the carriage, you felt your hips buck slightly with each jolt that passed through your body, letting up in intensity as the aftershocks wore off.

Eventually, Javier let up, a cold shiver wracking your body at the lack of his heat. Pulling back your skirt away from his face, the two of you sat in silence for a second, both processing what the hell just happened. A chuckle spilled from you, a light smile on your face that Javier mirrored. He looked as disheveled as you felt, hair tousled and completely out of place. He only had a few light remnants of your lipstick left, his lower face instead was now covered in your arousal, it glistening in the pale moonlight. A proud smirk greeted you as he realized what you were looking at, and you wiped it away as best you could, resting your hand on the side of his face when you were done. You’re sure you looked like a mess as well, but Javier looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

Pulling him back up to your face level, you smashed your lips against his, and you felt his tongue run against the seam of your lips. Opening your lips to let him in, you let out a groan when you were able to taste yourself, the filthiness of it all causing a fresh wave of arousal to wash over you. Running your free hand down his chest, you toyed with his belt, a slight desperation in your touch as you unbuckle his belt.

Not even bothering to get it all the way off, you let it hang open, and you fiddled with the zipper, opening it after some difficulty. Brushing your fingers against his cock beneath his underwear, which had become deliciously hard, and you felt him shudder, breaking the kiss to exhale a breathy noise. “Mi amor.” It sounded like a mix of a plea and a warning. 

“Sit,” you whispered, yet it held no room for argument.

After a second’s pause, Javier complied, and you could tell he expected you to follow him with. You would’ve found it funny, the way he let out a shocked moan, when you sunk to your knees, but you only had one thing on your mind. 

Framing your knees on each side of his waist, he moved up the skirts to allow you enough room to straddle his lap. You felt his hands move from your skirts to your waist, and his cock pressed right up against your exposed center. You felt him begin to rut his hips the tiniest amount, running his cock through your folds. It was at that point that reality kind of hit you, and you felt that familiar feeling of anxiety begin to trouble your mind, but you pushed it away. 

One of his hands sneaked between your bodies, and you felt him hold himself upright. “Are you ready?” You heard him ask, the hand remaining on your waist squeezing reassuringly. You nodded, saying a hushed yes as you did so. 

Rising up onto your knees, you adjusted yourself so that the tip nudged your entrance. Both of you let out similar noises as you began to sink down onto him, and you rested your head against his neck. It was less painful than you thought it would be. Sure, the stretch of your muscles as they accommodated the intrusion was unpleasant, but it wasn’t downright painful. “Take it slow,” you heard him say through a clenched jaw.

Holding his shoulders for support, you eased yourself down inch by inch, your moans becoming more frequent as you felt him deeper and deeper inside you. He was already far deeper than you’d ever been able to go with your fingers, and you weren’t even close to having your hips flush with his.

Javier muttered praises to you, moving his hand from between the two of you to rub your lower back. “You’re doing so good,” you heard him say, lips pressing against the side of your head. “Just a little more.”

The slight discomfort you were feeling, the stretch of muscles causing a dull throbbing to spread across your abdomen, was quickly turning into a pleasurable feeling. Mumbling something out in response, you heard him chuckle softly, affectionately pressing another kiss to your head. 

A few more moments passed, your legs beginning to shake from the exertion of holding yourself up. Relief flooded your body when you felt his hips meet yours, and you let yourself relax on his lap now that he was fully sheathed in you. “Just like that, mi amor. You- fuck, you feel so good,” you heard Javier pant, voice raspy. Raising your head from his neck, you pulled him into a messy kiss as you let yourself get used to the feeling of him inside you.

Both of you broke the kiss simultaneously when you began to move, lifting yourself off his cock before sinking back down. It was slow, and the drag of him across your walls felt so incredible that you felt your head rolling back. A gentle hand brought it back. “I want to see you,” was all Javier said. You were sure to keep your head still as you repeated the action again, slightly faster than the last. 

Bitting again at your lip to keep yourself quiet, you were quickly able to fall into a rhythm, moving yourself down his length with increasing speed. Pleasure bloomed in your cunt, and you felt yourself clench around him with another drag. Javier choked our name, which sounded hotter than you thought it would be, and your body reacted accordingly. He moaned out your name again, smirking when your body reacted the same way. “Does my girl like that? Does she like hearing me cry out her name?” It was a rhetorical question, but you still found yourself nodding. 

Your legs were beginning to hurt, but you pushed on, the start of a new orgasm beginning to create itself. You felt Javier's eyes on your face, enraptured by the expressions on it. In any other circumstance, you would’ve found his close examination of you nerve wracking, but right now it was adding fuel to the fire growing in you. 

After a few more moments, your legs were really starting to hurt, barely able to lift yourself again. “Javier, I…”

“Do you want me to take over?” 

When you nodded, you felt his hands secure themselves on your waist. “You did so good, mi amor,” you heard him praise, and you felt him slowly begin to lift you, fingers digging into your skin. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, before he was bringing you back down.

It took no time at all for him to return to the pace you had set, lifting you up and down like you weighed nothing. You moaned out his name, your head almost rolling back again, but you caught yourself. His hips began to snap up every time he pulled you down, somehow reaching even deeper than before, and the added pleasure was bringing you right to the edge of your release. “I’m gonna-” another snap of your hips cut you off, an unitelliagble noise replacing your words.

“Me too.” Javier’s voice sounded thoroughly wrecked. “Where do you want me?”

It took a second for you to realize what he was asking, and if your brain wasn’t so filled with lust, your answer would’ve been completely different from the one you gave him. “Inside,” you answered, and you felt him falter completely. 

“Fuck, amor,” Javier began thrusting into you with reckless abandon, and in the back of your mind you prayed that Bill would not be able to feel it. The heightened speed had you reaching your end faster than you expected, and with a quite loud cry of his name you came, walls fluttering around him. Javier wasn’t too far behind, and with one final thrust he spilled into you, warmth flooding you. 

Sagging against Javier, the two of you sat in silence for a few moments, basking in the afterglow. He no longer held on to your waist, trailing his fingers lightly over your back. After pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, you felt him sigh. “As much as I’d love to keep you like this, we are almost back.”

Glancing out one of the windows, you saw that Javier was right, familiar scenery rushing past your eyes. Not bothering to hide the disappointment on your face, you slowly lifted yourself off him for a final time, barely able to do so because your legs were jelly. You made a small whining noise when you felt his release spill from you, and if you weren’t so focused on trying to make it back to your seat without falling then you would’ve seen the way Javier’s eyes darkened hungrily.

You were barely in your seat before he was back on you, having tucked himself back away into his pants, peppering many kisses across your lips and jaw until you were a giggling mess. Wrapping your arms around his head and shoulders, you pulled him into a deep hug, pressing your own lips on top of his head, a happy smile on your face. Content, he sighed deeply, even more so when you started rubbing your fingers across his scalp. 

With a regretful smile, Javier pulled away, and he slowly began to redress you. Starting with your undergarments, which quickly became soaked with his spend. Your stockings were put back on next, your shoes quickly following behind. The act of Javier redressing you almost left more intimate than what you two had just done, and you felt your heart thump erratically in your chest at the reverence of it all. 

Finally, you watched him sit upright on his knees, bringing himself level to you again. With one of his thumbs, you felt him wipe away the rouge that had smudged across your lips, another proud smile gracing him. 

“Did you fix it?” You teased, referencing back to a few moments ago, your voice hoarse and scratchy.

“I think so. Though we can always try again later.” You felt another pass of his thumb under your bottom lip. 

You rolled your eyes with a smile. “You’re insatiable, you know that?”

His hand stilled. “Can you blame me?” 

You didn’t respond, and you felt him continue to clean you up. 

When he deemed it done, you felt his thumb rest on your lips, brushing over the plump skin, not making a move to leave just yet. His eyes followed the movements of the digit, widening when you took it into your mouth. Bobbing your head once, you worked it between your lips, releasing it with a pop. Darkened eyes bore in you. “You’re making it quite hard to stop right here, mi amor.” You chose to not laugh at the innuendo. “That’s the point.”

He chuckled, which sounded more like a pained exhale through his nose, before removing his hand away from you. He moved back into his seat, lounging with a content expression, and you wanted nothing more than to climb back into his lap. Noticing your staring, you watched him spread his legs, providing you with an unobscured view of the way he was already getting hard again

Your hungry eyes traveled across his lower body, which Javier found highly entertaining, that cocky smirk returning. “And you say I’m insatiable,” he joked, hints of his own desire creeping into his voice. 

Before you could respond, the carriage coming to a sudden halt pulled you two from the little bubble you had created. A glance out the surprisingly not fogged window confirmed that you had arrived back at camp, a brightly lit campfire the only thing clearly visible in the dark night. Sighing, you grabbed the last of your belongings, tucking the clutch back under your arm and stuffing your gloves in your other hand, not bothering to put them back on. You watched as Javier quickly fixed up his hair, smoothing down the strands that were sticking up.

In typical fashion, he left first, helping you out with a hand, the same one that had just pulled one of the two . That fact had you hesitating for half-a-second before grabbing it, and if Javier noticed, he didn’t say anything, but he smirked at you knowingly. Cold air immediately cooled your overheated skin, goosebumps forming where sweat had been. You heard a soft thump on the ground as Bill hopped down from the driver’s seat, nodding at the both of you before retiring to his tent, unaware of what had transpired.

Arthur pulled into camp not a few seconds later, having trailed behind the carriage the entire time, following behind the two of you as you headed over to Dutch once he hopped off his horse. Arthur didn’t say anything, not quite knowing how Javier would react, and he kept his distance. When Javier rested his hand on your back, leading you toward Dutch’s tent, you could feel his stare, and you didn’t have to turn to know that he had a shit-eating grin on. 

You were grateful for the touch on your back, not only because you wanted it, but because it also kept you steady, legs still partially jelly as you hobbled over. If anyone asked, you could just blame it on the shoes. 

Dutch greeted you and the two other men warmly, sitting at a table with Hosea and Micah, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. You three said your own greetings, Arthur moving to slide into the extra open seat at the table. Javier stayed behind you, hand not leaving your body, as you leaned back into him. 

“So, I’m gonna assume that because you’re all here in one piece that it went well,” Dutch began, going straight into business. 

You heard Javier begin to explain to Dutch that it didn’t, and that he couldn't get his hands on the bond, but you cut him off by digging into your clutch, pulling out the the stacks of paper you’d pulled from the safe, along with a few clips of money, keeping one for yourself and Javier. You dropped them on the center of the table along with the gloves, a pleased whistle leaving Dutched as he eyed it, and you tucked the bag away. You’d give Javier his knife back later. “There was also a gold bar, which Arthur had.”

The cowboy nodded, pulling it from a satchel, and you realized that was how he had hidden it before. How he got into the party, you’d never know. Sliding across the table to Dutch, he weighed it in his hands, before passing it to Hosea who examined it more closely. You could feel the shock from Javier, gratitude and curiosity in his eyes as he watched you. 

Micah began to converse with Hosea about the gold, Hosea only answering in short, clipped sentences. Dutch and Arthur were already deep into conversation, Dutch giving you no more than a half-hearted thanks before seemingly dismissing you and Javier. Your skin felt sticky and your undergarments were growing more and more uncomfortable, and you wanted nothing more than to leave. Javier began to leave, but you stayed put, steeling yourself. You had one last thing you needed to say. 

“Dutch,” you kept your voice neutral, and he regarded you with a hum, still not turning away from Arthur. “Don’t you ever send me on a job like that again.” You tried to not word it like a threat, but it still came out as one.

Immediately, all conversation halted, clear shock written across all the men’s faces. The odd chair creaked as Dutch turned to face you now, his expression unreadable. Never, during the entire time you’d been with the gang, had you ever talked back to Dutch in any sort of manner, and it caught everyone off guard, including yourself. Heart thudding anxiously, you awaited a response from the leader, unable to tell if you had just pissed him off. You watched Arthur’s eyes flick between Dutch and you, also unsure of where this was heading. Hosea seemed to be the only one not worried, and you swore you saw the older outlaw smirk in the low light. 

“And why’s that?” Micah interjected, but you ignored him, biting back the anger that threatened to overtake you. Deep breaths, now. 

After a few beats of tense silence, Dutch finally responded. “Noted,” was all he said, nodding as he spoke. A sound of protest left Micah, but Dutch disregarded it. “You did well tonight.”

Nodding, you muttered a quick goodnight, before quickly getting the hell away from the table before the calmness dissipated. Javier followed not far behind, no longer in reach to touch you, and he laughed so lightly that you barely heard it. Turning your shoulder, you questioned him with a look. 

“You’re incredible, you know that?”

“Oh, hush,” you waved him away, ignoring the flush in your cheeks at his compliment. 

“I mean it!” Javier laughed, moving closer to that he was able to stop you with a gentle tug of your waist. You realized that you had walked back to the edge of camp, near where the carriage was parked at the entrance. The two of you were relatively shrouded in the dark, trees helping to block you from the camp. A few people beside the men at the table still lingered around camp, but they were too preoccupied with what they were doing to notice you and Javier. 

“There I was, having completely disregarded the whole job, and you just went along and did it yourself. And you know I normally wouldn’t condone you talking to Dutch like that,” Javier pulled you in close by your hips, his own pressed against your backside, “I would be a liar if I said I didn’t find you incredibly hot asserting yourself like that.” He nipped at your ear, his facial hair causing you to giggle. It turned into a moan when you ground yourself against him, feeling the still noticeable bulge there. No wonder he chose to stay close behind you as you talked with Dutch. 

You went to tease him about it, but were promptly cut off when you felt him press himself into you, his member protruding into you, pretty much ready to go. As Javier began to lead you away to the woods, you realized that you were not going to get a lot of sleep tonight.

You found that you didn’t care.

[nocturn-warrior]

I ALL THE THINGS I'VE SHOULD DONE• 🔅

Alucard x reader

Summary: You are pregnant with your first born with Alucard and he has been overprotective over you, but during one night he a jerk tries to assault you. Alucard and your friends kick his ass.

Warnings: angst, SA mentions, abortion mentions, violence, jealousy at Greta, pregnancy, crying (but ends up with fluff), my bad grammar and text similar to a 12 years old's writting fanfic (english is not my first language) and bad dialogues.

Note: month of the three milks is may in medieval calendar, puiuţ is a nickname romanian parents call their babies and it means baby chicken. Most of the titles of my fics are based on Kate Bush's songs or song quotes. This one is taken from This Woman's Work

You were so excited taking care of Sypha and Trevor's baby. With his mother's big blue eyes and his father's jet hair, he was the cutest thing in the world. Everyday, your heart beated faster to the thought of having a child of your own with Adrian; a little baby to light up your lives and bring joy to that enormous castle again, but it took months for you to start trying for it. There are too many children around, the village orphans would be jealous if we had a baby. You would squash off the idea to yourself with a silly excuse. Actually, you feared having a child would have a reverse effect. Alucard was still mentally fragile and you rememberer his breakdown nights, where he wouldn't close his eyes to sleep until the sunrise. But one day it happened, and when it happened you and Adrian couldn't contain the happiness, though your hearts were still full of doubts.

Immediatly you started to work on your unborn's room, asking the villagers carpenters to reform Adrian's childhood bedroom and redo the furniture just like the way he remebered, since it all was destroyed during that last fight. All except that little wolf plushie which you storaged in the wardrobe. Alucard was surprised when you, after the nursery was finally finished and you both were decorating it with paintings and toys Adrian crafted himself, came in with the plushie and placed it over the little crib. He could feel a tear forming into his eye in that very moment.

"H-how did you..."

He stuttered, holding the toy almost as if he was checking out to see if it was the original one. You chuckled and said:

"I kinda stole from you so many days before Trevor had his hero moment. It was too cute to stay all dusty and forgotten in a wooden box. What is his name, by the way?"

Alucard sniffles the toy for a while, it smells like childhood. Like comfort. Smells like a time that will never come back, but he is happy it will belong to his child now. For that, new memories will be builden up. He finally answers, sitting on the small bed with you and caressing the toy's fluffy head.

"Lupi"

The dhampir smiled as his eyes wandered across the bedroom: it was exactly like he remembered. With his drawing skills, it was easy to picture everything in paper and intruct the carpenters.

After two long years, the village was finally built. Settled in the Belmont ground, it was full of small but cozy houses, a small fair, and a graveyard to honor their lost members. They were grateful for everything, and for that they decided to make a big celebration, in the day of their protector saint, Sara Kali, who is also the protector of pregnant women, for the exhiled and despaired ones as well.

You, Alucard and your friends were invited to such a beautiful moment, since you four had a big role in providing that people comfort and protection during and post the nightcreatures attacks.

It was 24 in The Month Of the Three Milks and you were 5 months pregnant. At first, Alucard was a little hesitant about attending at the festival; besides he cherishes the comunity so much, he feared you made too much effort or that all of these sounds, scents and feelings would be overwhelming to you. In his core, he wanted to go of course, but your safety was more important.

"Are you sure, my darling? You need to rest, you and the baby. Greta and the others will understand if you don't attend"

He tenderly argues, placing a hand on your waist as you look for a proper dress to use in the occasion in your big wooden wardrobe.

"Adrian,"

You drop the pieces of clothes to cup his cheeks, his amber droopy eyes looking towards yours as you explain. How could you take that pouty face of his seriously in that moment? You contain a chuckle.

"I am fine. My sickness doesn't affect me anymore, and some fresh night are will be good for me. You worry too much"

Adrian looks down presses his hand over your growing bump, trying to feel the child. He's been obsessed with it, constantly asking you if his puiuţ, as he constantly reffers to your baby is awaken and active.

"They are quiet this afternoon, my love."

You answer, placing your hand over his colder one. He says nothing, thinking about the festival and if taking you was a good idea until he breaks the silence:

"Let's find you a dress to wear, i will do your hair"

Your eyes light up, filling his heart with joy. Alucard adores to see you smile and beam with happiness, specially now that your mood changes so frequent. Any wrong word can cause an endless angst in this sensitive head of yours. He doesn't complain, though. After all you did for him in those dark gloomy nights, is not just his duty but also his wish to take care of you.

The two of you mess around your clothes, trying to find anything that feels comfortable enought for you to wear all night long. You try this, try that, but all of your formal gowns feel tighter and constraining around your stomach. Trying the last one with no success, you leave a deep sigh and plop yourself on the bed, laying with your limbs spread:

"Alright. Forget it. I accepted my fate: we are not going to the festival."

Though you had a silly smile in your face, Adrian could tell you were very upset with the fact no dress could fit you propperly now, and standing up in silence while looking at your hopeless expression, he takes a hard decision. Entering or seeing his parents' personal objects was a challenge he has been avoiding for two years. That's why most of them were gifted to the people from Danesti. They shouldn't be in there storaging must and moths. He gave it all, except some.

"Actually, i think there are still some dresses that belonged to my mother when she was pregnant. My father kept her belongings, and i couldn't get rid of them yet"

The joyful expression returns to your face as Alucard gives the problem a solving, you quickly sit up again and smile excitedly at him. For a while, you wonder why he kept exactly his mother's pregnancy dresses. Was it because he already planned everything? He could have given them to Sypha years ago. But you don't question it, you just nod and stand up, holding his hands.

"Thank you, Adrian. But you don't have to do it, if it's too hard to see her things again."

He gently shushes you, raising your hand and placing a wet kiss over it and ressuring he would be alright. Adrian tells you to stay in your bedroom while he looks into an old wooden chest, containing some of his parents' remaining belongings.

Minutes after, he cames in with a beautiful red dress, larger in the stomach and breasts part. It's oppulent silk bounces as he moves smoothly, placing it over the bed.

"Here. Try it on. I might do some adjusts on it's sleeves or cleavage if you want me to. We still have time"

He smiles at you, and standing up, you grab it to try on as he said. You inspect it's fabric, the dress has a slight musty scent due to all of these years it spent untouched, but it's alright. You quickly slip off your undergarments and put the dress on. Alucard expectates for the final result, arms crossed and eyes wandering across you changing body. It looks so beautiful, like a goddess of fertility.

"It feels tight in the arms"

You raise up your limbs, proving your point. The long sleeves restrict your movements. Lisa had a more slender figure, you guess, so it would really feel tighter in some of your body parts. Alucard approaches you, adjusting some pieces of the fabric and turning you around to check out the clothing

"I can cut them for you, my dear"

The solution comes without hesitation and you are surprised. He would modify his mother's relics just because of you. The hesitation came from your part

"Do you really mean that? Love, this belonged to your mother"

He playfully scoffs and lifts up the silky hem of the gown, helping you to take it off so he could make the necessary adjusts

"If there was something my mother was not attached to, was material wealth. Plus, it's for the wife of her son i am doing that. Don't you worry, it's just a dress"

Adrian removes the dress from you completly and with the lines and needles, he starts to work on the sleeves as you sit on the bed, waiting for it to be finished.

One hour and a half later, your dress is finally adjusted and fits perfectly. Now, you two should take a shower, get perfumed and elegant for the event so important to your friends of the village.

Adrian does your hair as promised: he braids it and finishes with a ribbon matching the color of your dress. He ties your shoes and you help him folding the hem of his trousers. Now passing through the giantic doors of the castle, you two head to where the festival would be settled.

Arms interlocked and faces enlighted by the rising full moon light, you catch a sight of Sypha and Trevor sitting on a wooden bench, their son Simon is running around with the other kids.

"He is already running. Years ago this boy was just a..."

Words fail with excitement, seeing your nephew toddling and interacting with other children. Alucard completes the phrase, placing a hand on your bump.

"A little bean. Just like our baby. Soon, he or she will be joining them. Ooh, it seems like he is sticking a frog into his mouth!"

As Alucard finishes, you can see from a afar, Sypha rushing to stop the toddler of eating a frog. You giggle, already imagining the adaptations in the castle you and Adrian shall do to prevent your own kid to hurt themselves.

Trevor see you two approaching and, taking a large sip of his ale, he places the cup aside, facing you two.

"Hey, i thought you two wouldn't even come. Y/N, you have to try this ale. This shit is a drop from heavens!"

By his tone, you could tell your friend was already drunk. Alucard intervines with a calm, yet slightly sarcastic tone, cracking his whip:

"You are not trying to make my pregnant wife drink alcohol, are you, Belmont?"

"I forgot this detail"

He snorts, shrugging and turning his attention back to his beloved ale. Since Simon was born, Trevor and Sypha had made a promise he would never drink again, but today is a special occasion so they gave it a break. Talking about Sypha, she returns to the place, holding the willful Simon on her hip and smiling as she spots you and Alucard.

"I can't keep an eye off from this boy, it's like he is the exact copy of his father. I can't keep an eye off of him as well. Trevor, you are already drunk?"

She places her free arm on her hip, facing the sitting man who denies it, with his clearly intoxicated tone.

"Gods, i don't know why but i still love you that it hurts!"

She chuckles, sitting by her husband's side and releasing Simon from her arms before she finally talks to Alucard and you.

"Your bump is already so big, my dear Y/N! Bigger than last week. Please, cherish this moment, becsuse after that you will deal with back pains and ankle soreness due to this little human growing in there"

Sypha looks tenderly at your belly jutting against the red silk of your dress, and then at her own son who rushes to "uncle Lulu", as he calls your husband.

"But it's all worthy."

You were so excited by seeing your friends that didn't even paid attention to the festival decoration. It was beautiful, full of colors and good scents comming from the food. The women wore their traditional clothes, children ran around the big fire settled in the middle. The tawny moon enlighted everything, making the scenary even more breathtaking. Alucard conduces you to sit over the bench and accomodates himself by your side as well.

"What do you think, love?"

He whispers in your ear before kissing your cheek

"Beautiful. I love how their people, even after so many troubles and distress, found a way to put everything together"

The food scent was inviting, you spot a plump old lady holding a large plate of something you judged to be sarma, placing it over the large table along with other food. An increasing desire starts to take over you, and Alucard notices your fixated gaze. He chuckles, placing a hand on your belly before standing up.

"Are you two hungry? Stay here, i will get some food. Will you guys want something as well?"

He looks at Sypha who shakes her head, and at Trevor who says nothing but a grunt that Alucard reads as a no. You watch your dhampir walk graciously towards the table abundant with food, greeting the people as he approaches it. Resting your elbow on your knee and your chin on your palm, you don’t notice how head over heels you are until he comes back holding a bowl and speaking to you so sweetly:

“Here, my dear. It’s still warm”

Alucard sits by your side and you glance at the bowl full of sarma; a meal made of cabbages and stuffed with meat and rice, a typical dish of the people from Danesti. He grabs a forkful and takes it towards your mouth, waiting for your approval. You chew up the bite, the flavors exploding in your mouth. Alucard’s smile increases when you leave a satisfied groan and nod your head. He places the bowl on your lap, allowing you to occasionally feed him as you two chat with Sypha.

Some children from the village spot you sitting in there and rush towards the bench. As expected, they were quite excited about the baby on the way, always competing between them to touch your bump and feel their new “sibling”. After all those little ones passed through, you were happy to see them play around. You see in their faces, the future of that community like flowers blooming after a long winter.

“mother, mother!”

A little girl grabs the hem of your silky dress, trying to get you attention and climb up to your lap, followed by other three kids who fight for their places. Noticing the mess they could make, Alucard grabs the bowl you hold and tries to calm down the hectic little ones.

“Woah, woah, calm down, Delia, Elek. Let your mother breath.”

He adverts the two sassiest ones with his firm wet warm tone, gently pulling them away as they chitter.

“But father Alucard, I want to feel the baby!”

They argue and you can’t resist to their pouty faces, sensitized by your mood changes you intervene into Alucard’s rebuke, accepting their little excited hands to touch your bump. Your husband doesn’t protest back, he knows how stubborn you are and how these children love you, but as you allow Delia to climb up onto your lap, he can’t help but feel apprehensive the girl would make too much pressure over your belly. You can see the disappointed expression in her face as she roams her palm around your stomach but isn’t able to feel nothing.

“The baby is sleeping now.”

You whisper, tilting up her little chin and smiling pacifically. Alucard admires your ability to calm down these children, always so patient and warm. Delia seems to understand the situation and climbs down from your lap, turning to her little friends and communicating the state of your baby. Still, the kids wouldn’t give up and keep fighting for your attention. Alucard knows that gently pushing them away wouldn’t do much good and gives up, so he lets it be. Sypha, noticing your discomfort calls one the children’s name and says:

“why don’t you take little Simon to play around a little, Delia? Hey, but don’t allow him to eat any frog!”

She adverts as the little girl gives up on pesting you and quickly takes your nephew’s hand, guiding him off from Sypha’s lap.

“nor any cricket or moth!”

“Alright, aunt Sypha!”

The small group of children leaves the four adults alone, in a mass of giggling and screaming mess. You can breathe finally, laying your head over Alucard’s shoulder and watching them move away, secretly hoping your baby takes after you and your husband, and doesn’t come to be so hectic like their future peers. Chatting with your friends about your adventures and about parenthood, most of the conversations end up with mocking Trevor. You guys are really taking advantage of his intoxicated state to make fun of him. The weather is pleasant and the crackling fire sounds relax you.

You hate it, but a snort leaves your throat when one of the children approach again, rushing towards Alucard this time at least. The little boy has in his face the expression of the messenger of a king, and speaks while panting, leaving Alucard slightly worried. You fear something bad has happened, as well.

“father Alucard, Greta wants to talk to you.”

The request was not urgent or a life or death case, but the woman’s name has sent you some discomfort into your heart. It’s not like you hate Greta: she is not as close as Sypha is to you, but she is still a friend and you recognize the importance she has to the community, yet you can’t help but feel insecure whenever she is around. Even though it’s been two years since you and Adrian are together, even though you are pregnant with his child.

The blonde man places a quick kiss on your cheek, swearing he will come back as soon as possible and stands up, guided by the child towards the house Greta awaits for him. You observe him adjusting the collar of his shirt as he approaches, and you see Greta come out through the door. Even from meters afar, you notice and admit how gorgeous she looks in that traditional dress, her dark hair and bronze skin glowing under the moonlight, and the wind seems to bring her perfume to you. Almost if it was teasing your jealousness and provoking your feelings.

The leader greets Alucard with a tight hug and in this moment your heart slightly sinks. Ruminating about their possible conversation topic, you convince yourself she is just thanking him for the support he offered during these two years, and not complimenting his beautiful amber eyes or his soft blonde locks you combed yourself. She drags him to inside the small house, followed by other two villagers.

Your fists close, you start to bounce your leg in anxiety and Sypha who is much an observer, places her hand gently on yours and leans in, looking at you with tenderness:

“Y/N, calm down. He is going to talk to the elder ones. You have nothing to worry about. Greta isn’t stealing your man.”

She speaks in a laid-back tone, softly caressing your hand. You turn to face your friend but you can’t contain the concerned expression. Sypha chuckles a bit, not mocking at you, but finding your feeling extremely valid. You protest:

“I-I am not jealous, Sypha. I just---“

You can’t find better words to describe your feeling, so you just give in to Sypha’s moral lesson.

“You are jealous, Y/N. I can tell it by the pout in your face. But you know what? That’s completely understandable, dear friend. You are going through a lot of changes all over your body, it’s pretty normal.”

She leans in a little more and whispers in tone of secret:

“when I was pregnant, i argued with Trevor about anything. Even ale itself made me feel jealous of him”

Your friend takes your hand once again and continues:

“what you need to know, is that Alucard loves you no matter what. It wasn’t Greta who held him every night when his nightmares tormented him. It wasn’t Greta who took care of him at his lowest, my dear. Adrian loves you and he doesn't hide it"

You know Sypha meant every word, but why did you feel like Alucard would eventually get tired of you? Why did you think Greta would charm him with her strong sense of leadership and athletic phisique? You try to focus on something else ignoring the burning jealousy increasing and consuming your brain and on Sypha's trying to cheer you up.

You finally see Alucard step out from the cabin he entered with the leader of the village, his beautiful face beams with happiness as he chats something unhearable. Greta pulls him closer to where other young women beautifully dressed in those tradicional patterns organize themselves to start the dancing, he is probably greeting them.

The young men start playing the instruments, and the ladies dance in the rhythm. Seeing your husband idly moving his shoulders, you expect for the worst to happen. Greta takes him by his hand and starts teaching him how to move smoothly like the dancers, twirling around and expecting him to do the same. Adrian doesn't give a single glance at where you are sitting, he seems to be hypnotized by the moment.

You stand up and feel Sypha's tight grip on your wrist. You look down at her as she asks softly:

"Where are you going"

"I need to pee"

You force a smile and even if it was your intention, Sypha knew you were distancing for other motive. But she doesn't intervene, though. She just releases your wrist and focus on Trevor who seems to be in an alcoholic catalepsy by her side.

You walk towards the latrine behind the village, holding up the hem of dress so it wouldn't get stuck in the ivies underneath. Leaning against the wooden thin wall of the cabine, you feel an increasing heat take over your face and thick tears drop down from your eyes. The music of the festival sounds distant, but you can hear the people's laughing and cheering.

The crickets and night birds seem to be the only spectators of your breakdown until you hear a hoarse, unfamiliar voice approaching you.

"Why are you crying, beautiful lady?"

You pull up your head from the wall, turning to where the voice comes. The light of a torch reveals the silhouette of a man who limps towards you, speaking in an alcohol intoxicated voice.

"A beautiful lady like you shouldn't be here, all alone. Did you know the nightcreatures are still around?"

He laughs in a mischevious tone, spitting on the ground. Getting closer and closer, he sees your face and his eyes widen up, a smirk forms again in his face:

"Are you the dhampir's wife?"

You've never seen that man at the village, he has been here due to the festival, you guess. You gulp, shortly nodding your head:

"Y-yes, mister."

The man stays in silence for a while, his eyes roaming through your body like he he was chosing a piece of meat until they linger on your belly.

"You are pregnant! You are carrying that evil's seed! Your husband's race only brought disgrace to this land. This thing you carry in your womb is cursed, it has a cursed blood just like it's genitor. You are nothing but catter for that demon to spread his offspring"

Your heart sinks at the tone he speaks to you, his intoxicated breath stinging in your nose as he approaches. You can't move, your body freezes as he says:

"I will put an end on it"

He completes with a sly grin, spitting on the ground again:

"And insert mine inside this pretty belly of yours"

You try to run, but the man grabs you by your middle and starts to run his filthy hands across your cleavage. Where is Alucard? You stood with him during this thundery years and when you need him most, he is entertaining himself with Greta. You fear for your child as the man's fingers press deeper against your skin.

"If you screm, it's gonna be worse. They can't hear you"

The man whispers and all you can do is whimper.

All the while, Sypha watches the movement of people, the colors of the dancers' dresses twirling and the instruments sounds echoing to inside the forest. It's been 5 minutes and you didn't came back. She fears leaving you alone was a bad idea.

Her attention turns to Alucard who after chatting with the villagers and receiving their grateful compliments, happily heads to the bench eager to reunite with you. His face drastically changes noticing only Sypha (and a dozing off Trevor) are in there.

"Where is Y/N?"

He asks the woman, a concerned expression in his face, and he could see a slight frown or worry in Sypha's forehead, but she didn't want to alarm him by mentioning her concern.

"She went to the latrines minutes ago"

For a while, Alucard feels a little upset with your friend. She shouldn't have let you go on your own. He stays in silence for a while, deciding if he should go after you.

Your vision gets foggy by the tears, and you can't tell if the music stopped or you are just falling out of consciousness by the terror, but as the sounds of instruments finally fade completly, you scream in agony, hoping someone can hear you plead. Hoping Alucard could hear your plead.

Alucard's pupils shrink as he hears your recognizable voice and before Sypha could even ask him if he heard that too, he desappears in a figure darker than night, smoothly directing itself to where the sound of you came from. Sypha rushes after him, already closing her fists, ready to use her powers.

The drunken man slides his hand down to your womb, roughly pressing his thumbs onto your skin. You groan, tears falling down your cheeks. He is going to take the life of your so expected puiuţ.

The trees and people speed distorted as Alucard in his fog shape rushes in your rescue. His heart is filled with an unnatural rage, something he never felt before as he sees that filthy bastard hurting his beloved. Something similar to what his father might felt.

The dhampir materializes in front of the man, pushing him with anger against the stone wall of a house, the bastard couldn't even tell what was going on until he feels Alucard's piercering eyes, red as flames staring into his and his sharp fangs so close to his neck as he hisses like a serpent.

He was about to take his life when a sharp disc of ice cuts the bastard's skin. Alucard swiftly looks back and sees Sypha rushing towards you as you fall on your knees, sobbing. His attention then turns back to the man who feels the dhampir's fangs almost touching his throat.

"I am not marking this date so important for the villagers with your filthy blood. But get to know: if you touch my wife once again, i open your abdomen and wrap your guts around a tree with you alive."

This words doesn't seem to be spoken by your sweet Alucard. For a while, it feels like his father's anger for human kind took his mind and manifested phisically using his body.

He releases the drunk who limps florest inside and his eyes shift back to it's beautiful amber pigmentation, now filled with tears as he sees you broken on the ground attached to Sypha's shoulder, sobbing in shock.

"Shh... it's everything alright now, Y/N. He is gone"

Your friend rubs your back soothingly and helps you to stand up, but your arm never leaves hers until Alucard approaches, stretching his arms open to embrace you.

"Y/N! I am so sorry. I've failed you"

"H-he tried to kill our puiuţ..."

You whine and he rests his chin on top of your head, holding you tighter. He couldn't save his mother years ago, he couldn't save his father from his own madness. If he lost you to such an avoidable way, he couldn't forgive himself.

Sypha's heart sinks seeing her two friends in such a broken state. She hugs you both tightly and recomforts you, guiding you back to the festival.

No one of you including Trevor who was sleeping to the lullaby of alcohol had mood to continue in the village that night, going home was the only option. Your friends would sleep in the castle.

You didn't exchange a word way back to home until you silently opened the doors of your chambers and slowly slipped off from your dress. In the oval mirror, you could spot the two marks caused by the agressor's hands. A lump forms in your throat again, it's been q while since you don't feel your child, you fear the worst happened.

Alucard cames in, wrapping his arms around you though he hesitated for a while. He kisses your cheek and kneals down in front of you, pressing his ear against your belly.

"Can you hear it? The heartbeat... can you still hear anything?"

You speak, trying your best to not to cry being so aprehensive about his answer. He lingers a little, shifting his position and lowing down his breath.

"I can hear it."

He looks up at you, a sigh of relieve leaves your body.

"Our puiuţ is safe."

Alucard stands up after placing a kiss on your belly and wraps his arms around you, wiping away your relieved tears. You hug him tightly, sobs muffled by his chest and his tears fall over your hair as well.

"That was my fault"

You silently climb onto bed after calming down from the overwhelming night you had, and after minutes, he finally breaks the silence.

"It was my fault. If you or our baby got hurt, it would be my fault"

You didn't want to rub salt into the wound though you knew the incident was directly linked to the fact Alucard left you. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you listen to his apologize.

"I should have known you would be pissed off with me because of Greta, but it was not my intention. Forgive me, darling. I promise i will never leave your side ever again"

He turns to face you with those droopy amber eyes, tears tangled between his long eyelashes and he blinks for them to follow their flow. You cup Alucard's cheek and gives him a ressuring smile. You couldn't be mad at him.

"Accepted"

Seeing Alucard have another breakdown was the last thing you wanted to see. He wraps his arms around you, hand resting on your belly like a shield as you sleep in a deep slumber, lulled by the wind knocking on the window.

[lady-ashfade]

I don’t understand you!

Kaz brekker x fem!reader

This is based off of a scene from TUA, I just randomly thought of it so here it is.

Warnings: Wounds, pain, confusion and kaz being a little bit of a d*ck, cursing, suggestive at the end, spelling mistakes, kinda just a random fic.

It was clean, quiet and the plan went fine. That’s what you repeated in your head as you make your way to his office. Much to your wishes everything went horribly, there was more of a drop then you had thought and you hurt your leg. Not to mention the relic you had been sent for was moved from what you were told. But you made a promise to kaz that you planned to keep so you went on.

You had almost gotten out, but as soon as you grabbed the old bowl in your hands a guard came into the room. And you had stayed quiet while he looked around the room, until your arm hit something and it came crashing down. One thing lead to another and he had slashed your side. You thanked the saints that you could kill him and get out alive.

Knocking on the door you take a deep breath and fix yourself. “Come in.” You hear his voice call out. Opening in the door you step into his office and focus on walking normally, and tried to show no signs of weakness. Kaz didn’t bother himself to look back at you. “Did it go as planned?” He asked. No, no it didn’t.

“As always.” You walked over and set the bag down in front of him. Kaz stopped what he was doing and opened the bag and saw the bowl was unharmed. Kaz smirked, looking up at you with his eyebrow raised. “I have another job for you.” You let out a deep breath.

You walked over and poured yourself a class of whiskey and hoped he wouldn’t send you tonight. However, kaz took you in and noticed even the slightest things as he always did. Your slight limp, how your eyes held less light in them. And when you leaned over to pour yourself a glass you put a hand on your side and hissed out in pain. Kaz always kept a close eye on you, he knew the things you didn’t even know about yourself.

You couldn’t keep anything from him.

Kaz leaned back in his chair and glared his eyes into the back of your head. “Tell me the details about what happened?” He asked and you turned around. “Why? It’s boring.” You rolled your eyes and took another swig of the liquid. Kaz stood up and made his way over to you, he got so close you felt yourself melt under he stare.

He was so close to you and looked into your eyes, then over your face with that look of his. It confused you but you couldn’t help but get nervous. Kaz turned his attention to the glasses and poured himself one as well. You watched his adam’s apple move as he swallowed, a sigh leaving his lips and it sounded like music to your ears.

“Were there more guards then normal?” You got annoyed at his question, “No, kaz there wasn’t. I don’t know, why you’re still on this. It went smoothly.” You huffed out. He hummed and raised a brow at you. It was a matter of seconds until you yelled in pain as he raised his cane up to your wound and put pressure on it. “Fuck.” You fell back onto the wall, your body screamed at you again. “What the hell was that?” You shouted and put your hands to your sides and felt the blood come through the bandages.

“Just making sure things went smoothly.” He blinked at you in a cocky way and you hated him for a minute. “You could have just asked.” You looked down and pulled your hand away and saw red. It wasn’t noticeable since you were black clothing. You looked back up at him, “How did you know?” You were so sure that you went unnoticed. He titled his head and gave you a knowing look, and surprised you underestimated him.

“You were limping, also you hissed in pain. You should really work on that if you try and hind things from me again.” Rolling your eyes at him you pushed yourself off the wall, “I need to get this looked at.” You said about to walk to the door. Kaz stoped you with his cane, “Nina’s out for the night, Inej is on a mission.” You cured out and groaned.

“I’ll do it.” You looked at him surprised. “Get on the couch.” Searching his face for a minute you nodded and made your way over to the cushions. Kaz cleaned you up himself, with a few pointers from you. But he could get the area better then you could, and you appreciate it. After a while you were all patched up and you laid on his couch.

“Thank you.” You whispered your gratitude. He smirked and you found it intoxicating. “Can’t have you dying in the job, it would be bad representation.” You glared at him playfully. He was above you and looking down, your eye meeting his and you stared into them, taking in their blue color and each detail.

Leaning up as the few seconds went by of just the two of you staring at each other. His body leaned forward to yours and stopping just a inch away, you could hear his breath. You screamed in pain as pressure hit your wound again by his hand. “I don’t understand you!” You shouted in pain and flopped back in frustrated.

He leaned in, he was looking at your lips and stared at you just as you did. Kaz Brekker was a wonder to you. He smirked again and took pride in seeing you like that, so he gave in and leaned down to press a sweet kiss on your lips and pulled away quickly. You wanted to scream in confusion at him, that man wanted to make you go insane.

“Fuck you, Brekker.” You nagged and he just got a evil look on his face. “Don’t worry, you can do that yourself when you’re healed.”

[boyhood]

If you are a fan of my work on All Miracles Are Strange, I would like to direct you to the website https://qspirit.net/, a fairly comprehensive and lovingly written site dedicated to queer religious studies and queer saints, run by the author Kittredge Cherry.

The website has an extremely good section on saints and includes many articles titled things like "What if Jesus and Krishna made love?" that I truly want to make a little fun of, but am genuinely charmed and moved by. It also has a very good recommended book section, covering theology, politics, and fiction.

I know what you guys are like. You will like this. It moved me immensely and made me shed a few tears.

[writing-reference-redux]

I felt like sharing my collection of Latin phrases that may make good fanfic or fanart titles or inspiration. Some of the translations may be off, so you might want to double-check them before use. Also, I used capitalization liberally so you might also want to check where capitalization is actually indicated.

Ab Intra (From Within)

Acta Est Fabula (The play has been performed)

Acta Sancti ___ (The Deeds of Saint ___)

Ad Undas (to the waves / to hell)

Advocatus Diaboli (Devil's advocate)

Aegri Somnia (a sick man's dreams / troubled dreams)

Alea Iacta Est (the die has been cast / point of no return)

Apologia Pro Vita Sua (defense of one's life)

Caetera Desunt (the rest is missing)

Cedere Nescio (I know not how to yield)

Damnatio Memoriae (damnation of memory / denying someone ever lived)

De Nobis Fabula Narratur (their story is our story)

Decessit Vita Patris (died before their father)

Diem Perdidi (I have lost the day)

Dies Tenebrosa Sicut Nox (a day as dark as night)

Dolor Hic Tibi Proderit Olim (some day this pain will be useful to you)

Dulce Est Desipere In Loco (It is sweet on occasion to play the fool)

Dum Vivimus, Vivamus (while we live, let us live)

Dux Bellorum (war leader)

Ex Umbra In Solem (from the shadow into the light)

Festina Lente (hurry slowly)

Fortis Cadere, Cedere Non Potest (the brave may fall, but can not yield)

Fui Quod Es, Eris Quod Sum (I once was what you are, you will be what I am)

Graviora Manent (heavier things remain / the worst is yet to come)

Haec Olim Meminisse Iuvabit (one day, this will be pleasing to remember)

Hic Mortui Vivunt (here the dead speak)

Hinc Illae Lacrimae (hence those tears)

Hodie Mihi, Cras Tibi (Today it's me, tomorrow it will be you - of death)

Iacate Et Scire (Be still and know)

In Ictu Oculi (in the blink of an eye)

In Somnis Veritas (in dreams there is truth)

Inter Spem Et Metum (between hope and fear)

Lapsus Memoriae (slip of memory)

Luctor, Non Mergor (I struggle, but am not overwhelmed)

Lux Ex Tenebris (light from darkness)

Media Vita In Morte Sumus (In the midst of our lives we die)

Memento Mori (remember that you will die)

Memento Vivere (remember to live)

Morior Invictus (I die unvanquished / death before defeat)

Mundus Senescit (the world grows old)

Nemini Parco (I spare no one - death)

Nitimur In Vetitum (we strive for the forbidden)

Non Ducor, Duco (I am not led; I lead)

Non Omnis Moriar (I shall not all die / part of me will survive beyond death)

Nunc Scio Quid Sit Amor (now I know what love is)

Oderint Dum Metuant (let them hate, so long as they fear)

Omnia Mutantur (everything changes)

Onus Probandi (burden of proof)

Opera Posthuma (posthumous works)

Ophidia In Herba (a snake in the grass)

Pax Aeterna (eternal peace - a common epitaph)

Primum Non Nocere (first do no harm)

Pulvis Et Umbra Sumus (we are dust and shadow)

Quis Leget Haec? (who will read this?)

Quod Periit, Periit (what Is gone is gone)

Res, Non Verba (deeds, not words)

Respice Finem (consider the end)

Scientia Et Sapientia (knowledge and wisdom)

Seculo Seculorum (forever and ever)

Sed Terrae Graviora Manent (but on earth, worse things await)

Si Vis Pacem Para Bellum (if you want peace, prepare for war)

Sic Infit (so it begins)

Sic Vita Est (such is life)

Silentium Est Aureum (silence is golden)

Sine Nomine (without a name / author unknown)

Sola Dosis Facit Venemum (the dose makes the poison)

Solvitur Ambulando (it is solved by walking / simple tests find solutions)

Stamus Contra Malum (we stand against evil)

Succisa Virescit (cut down, we grow back stronger)

Sum Quod Eris (I am what you will be - of death)

Summum Bonum (the supreme good)

Summum Malum (the supreme evil)

Sunt Lacrimae Rerum (there are tears for things)

Sunt Omnes Unum (they are all one)

Tabula Rasa (blank slate)

Transire Benefaciendo (to travel along while doing good)

Tu Fui Ego Eris (I was you; you will be me - of death)

Ubi Amor, Ibi Dolor (where there is love, there is pain)

Ultima Forsan (perhaps the last / sundial quote "perhaps your last hour")

Usque Ad Finem (until the end / fight to the death)

Vi Et Animo (with heart and soul)

Victoria Aut Mors (victory or death)

Vincit Qui Patitur (he conquers who endures)

Vita Ante Acta (a life done before - of reincarnation)

Vivere Militare Est (to live is to fight)

Vox Clamantis In Deserto (the voice of one crying in the wilderness)

There are also some longer ones that may not make good titles because of their length, but are still worth inclusion:

Aut Simul Stabunt Aut Simul Cadent (they will either stand together or fall together)

Flectere Si Nequeo Superos, Acheronta Movebo (if I can not reach Heaven I will raise Hell)

Forsan Et Haec Olim Meminisse Iuvabit (perhaps even these things will be good to remember one day)

Igitur Qui Desiderat Pacem, Praeparet Bellum (therefore whoever desires peace, let him prepare for war)

In Regione Caecorum Rex Est Luscus (in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king)

Minus Malum Toleratur Ut Maius Tollat (choose the lesser evil so a greater evil may be averted)

Quem Deus Vult Perdere, Dementat Prius (whom the gods would destroy, they first make mad)

Ubi Sunt, Qui Ante Nos Fuerunt? (Where are they, those who have gone before us?)

Virtus Junxit Mors Non Separabit (that which virtue unites, let not death separate)

[sundrop-writes]

Decided To Break It

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader

A thousand promises that never seemed to help me before...

Apathy that always finds a way to break me down.

Summary:

Abby confronts your abuser, and you both come out better on the other side because of it.

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader. Childhood Friends to Lovers. Hurt and Comfort. Can be read with or without considering the canon events.

Word Count: 5,000

The Last of Us Masterlist | AO3 Link

THIS IS A RE-POST. This is a fic from my old blog (a blog that was shadowbanned, forcing me to move). This fic is not stolen, it is completely mine, and I am just re-posting it to help people find my new blog, and to make my masterlist complete when I post new fics for this fandom.

Detailed warnings and author’s notes below the cut.

Warnings: reader uses she/her pronouns, themes of abuse and abusive relationships, domestic abuse, childhood friends to lovers, hurt and comfort, mentions of canon deaths and incidents of canon violence, Abby has a self deprecating inner monologue, Abby experiencing some transphobic comments (even though she is not trans in this - angry cis men are just like that), the reader’s abusive partner is a man, the reader is described as having injuries from a physically abusive incident, the reader experiencing physical and emotional abuse from a romantic partner, the reader is saved from her abusive partner by Abby (and Manny), the reader is mentioned to be wearing Abby’s clothes - but Abby is a big muscled girl so I think plus sized girls could fit her clothes (especially if they were clothes that were big on Abby), Abby calls the reader ‘baby’, some romantic involvement between Abby and the reader (but the bulk of the focus is on Abby rescuing the reader form the abuse), technically cheating - because the reader kisses Abby while she is still involved with her abusive boyfriend, Abby murdering someone with her bare fists (technically with her fists and then smothering him with a pillow), somewhat graphic descriptions of Abby beating up the abuser, happy/hopeful ending. 

A/N: Title comes from a Marianas Trench song of the same name. I have always thought of it as a very Abby song (and it’s on my Abby playlist) - I think it definitely represents her following the Fireflies and then the Wolves with them feeding her blind promises that don’t work out for her, and when she ‘decides to break it’ is when she decides to break free from the mould in order to help Lev and Yara. And in this case, the broken promises and lies are two fold - her pushing down her feelings for y/n and her seeing y/n be 'happy’ with the abusive boyfriend, and when she finally snaps is when she 'decides to break it’. I like how it fits. It could also be fitting of how someone in an abusive relationship is fed lies and empty promises and it’s difficult to break away from that.

...

Abby had always liked you.

She always loved you, even if she claimed over and over again, wasted her breath telling people that it was strictly the type of love reserved for a friend. 

But she refused to admit the true nature of those feelings to herself. She refused to call it love, or romance, or affection. Maybe because she didn’t even realize that’s what it was in her own mind. But she definitely had a childhood crush on you that blossomed into something else along the way. 

You were someone that Abby’s dad was always fond of when you lived with the Fireflies at Saint Mary’s hospital. And though you weren’t studying to become a medic, Jerry always pushed Abby to hang around you more because you were sweet, good natured, and bookish, and he always thought you were a very good influence on her. 

It was something that led the two of you to become fast friends. When the two of you were still so young and the world was still so small, you were each other’s biggest priority in it. 

Abby often mourned for those days like winter days mourn for summer. But she could never imagine how the two of you might get back that kind of closeness. 

Living at the WLF, you unintentionally drifted away from Abby. 

The Salt Lake Crew was always close, especially after making the treacherous journey from Salt Lake to Seattle with nothing more than a tiny glimmer of hope for their safety after the bloody massacre at Saint Mary’s. 

Abby protected you the whole way, made sure you never had to carry a gun, would have thrown down her life to save yours at any moment during the journey - especially when she was stuck in such deep depression after her father’s death. In a lot of ways, you kept her alive during those days. You kept her spirit alive, made sure she held onto the good memories of her father instead of throwing herself headfirst into the darkness. 

But when everyone integrated into the WLF, things changed. It was a very rapid shift from the group spending 24/7 together, watching each other’s backs, to everyone having different jobs based on their skills and having colliding schedules that caused them to part and spend less and less time around each other. 

Manny and Abby were the ones who ended up staying the closest - ironically, even closer than the romantic couples of Mel and Owen, and Leah and Jordan. Mostly likely because they roomed together, and they often patrolled together. 

Abby was always regretful of the fact that she didn’t get to see you more often. 

Whenever Abby saw you around, in the cafeteria or during the rare occasions when the old crew could work their schedules to get together (usually using someone’s birthday or another celebration as an excuse) she mourned the fact that the two of you were drifting apart. It seemed like the two of you were becoming more like strangers as the days went on. 

You had taken a job as a dog trainer, wrangling the many pups that the WLF raised and kept on hand, so Abby saw you most often in passing if she was checking out one of the dogs for patrol. 

She often found herself with a pang of yearning in her chest if she saw you cooing sweetly at the pups, petting them, knowing that they could tear out the throats of enemies with their teeth but cuddling with them and calling them ‘baby’ in the same breath. 

(Deep down, she was reminded of herself - how she felt rough and horrible and she often felt unlovable, but she thought someone as soft and sweet as you could still love her. She hoped that you would.)

Very often during their conversations, Manny insisted that Abby had a crush on you. He said that she always had and that he had seen it for years, and Abby was being dumb not to pursue her feelings for you. These conversations usually ended with Abby rolling her eyes and pointing the finger back to his love life, asking why he didn’t just settle down with one of the many nice girls who frequented his bed. 

The topic came up so often between them, but it was something that Abby tried not to think about. The two of you dating. The two of you being anything more than friends. It felt so fictional. Often when Manny spoke about it, it felt like a joke in her ears. 

It was something that was latent in her mind until she saw you with him.

He was some random scumbag - some new trainee who had come in from a settlement outside the city that Isaac had broken up. He had allowed some of their people in (“strength in numbers” he always said). But seeing you with him, Abby gave less of a shit about where the guy came from, and started thinking about where he was heading to and how quickly she could get him away from you. 

Seeing the way you looked at him, with stars in your eyes, entirely lovestruck, while he tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear - it just made Abby nauseous.

Abby had been working with some of the new recruits. Fucking morons. Isaac had asked her to whip them into shape, her experience and skill vs their idiocy. 

It was the only reason she knew the guy. It was the only reason she could pick out his stupid face among the seemingly endless sea of people at the WLF. 

She remembered this idiot specifically. He had made sure of that. He was too cocky, but didn’t know his way around a gun. When he had gotten his hands on one of the semi-automatics, he got trigger happy and put several bullet holes in one of the concrete walls. He would have blown away half the squad if his dumbass had been two inches in the other direction. 

When Abby had snatched the weapon out of his hand and began reprimanding him about gun safety, he had gotten in her face and called her a ‘meathead’ and made some rude comments about her possibly having a dick. Clearly, he was intimidated by her size. She let him be. 

(And yeah, she did have a dick. In a box under her bed. One that the girls she and Manny shared around often joked was better than the real thing.)

It was immediately clear to Abby that you didn’t have a clue what the guy was really like. You wouldn’t have any interest in him if you knew what he was like in the field, if you knew how he had spoken to some of your friends. 

You kissed him sweetly on the mouth before you parted ways. Clearly completely unaware that Abby was watching with rage boiling inside of her veins. It was only when Abby looked at the crushed water bottle in her hand that she realized why her shoes were wet - unconsciously, she had been imagining that it was his head.

Manny chalked up her hatred of your new boyfriend to jealousy. And maybe it was. She had no other reasons to hate the guy. No good ones, anyway. Incompetency aside, he learned fast and got over his major flaws, and he quickly learned to only trash talk Abby behind her back so that she couldn’t take any real complaints about him to Isaac. 

When you brought him to Jordan’s birthday party and introduced him to the rest of the group as your boyfriend, they all seemed happy for you.

They didn’t suspect anything when he glared at you with absolute fire in his eyes as you joked around with Owen - someone you thought of as a brother. The cause of a very funny story (that the group still brought up often) when you ate literal dirt rather than kissing him during a game of truth or dare when you were all teenagers. 

Unfortunately, Abby didn’t have any evidence to back up her horrible gut feeling when you and your ‘new boo’ disappeared from the party so suddenly. When she had asked Nora, apparently you left because you were complaining about being tired.

Over the next few weeks, Abby watched you fade away from a distance. 

Your glowing smile became a dull, fake one. Whenever she saw you, you avoided her gaze. And the rare times when you would look her in the eye, she could see you crying out for help from within.

She thought she was being paranoid. She thought it was her pure spite of the man you were dating - some jealousy, a childhood crush bubbling over, the fact that she hadn’t gotten to you first. The fact that she hadn’t been brave enough to confess her feelings to you that she hadn’t even admitted to herself. 

She wanted to believe that you were fine, that you were thriving and happy in your new relationship, before she let herself think that you were actually being hurt by someone who claimed to love you.

Until one night when she was alerted by a knock on her door. 

She and Manny had just come back from a thirty hour patrol shift, and he was already dead asleep. Abby had just gotten out of the shower, combing through her long, wet tendrils as a characteristic Seattle storm thundered outside.

She rushed to put on a tee shirt along with her form fitting boxer briefs to look decent. Even though the only light in the small apartment was currently the flashes of lightning from outside as she walked across to the door. She thought perhaps she had imagined it, the sound of knuckles, the sound of someone trying to grab her attention. It would have been easy to mistake. The thunder rumbling and the rain pounding on the windows was certainly distracting. 

Nonetheless, she opened the door to check if her mind was really that far gone after such a long shift. 

She gave a small smile when she saw you standing there. Usually you didn’t take time out of your busy schedule to come and see her. 

But when the next flash of lighting came, and fully illuminated you where you stood in the hallway, it made Abby’s gut curl with a unique sickness. The look of pure fear in your eyes, the swelling of purple around one of them, the distinct marking around your neck that looked like fucking handprints, marks of thumbs attempting to press into your windpipe.

Abby felt the rage of god and intense pity, mourning and regret, her love for you swell up inside of her all at once.

“Y/N.” 

She said your name in a voice so gently, a timid kindness that you hadn’t been treated with in weeks - it instantly broke you.

You broke down in sobs, muttering out ‘I’m sorry to bother you’ - but Abby didn’t let you get out a moment of apologetic self pity before she swept you up into her arms, pressing the uninjured side of your face against her chest as she ushered you into the apartment and closed the door behind you.

You clutched onto her like a lifeline when stranded at sea, balling your knuckles into the fabric of her shirt as she put her strong arms around your quivering body, cradling you. She had a heavy suspicion as to what had happened to you, but she was going to wait for you to point at the suspect before she went spinning out of control.

The commotion - the echo of your cries - easily woke up Manny, and you began to profusely apologize before he trampled over this with his worry for you. He instantly reminded you of the big brother figure who used to slide you his pudding cups before he went to arms training while living at Saint Mary’s. 

He made you a cup of tea while Abby sat you down on the edge of her bed, cradling you against her chest and waiting for you to calm down. 

When Manny saw the marks on you, he exchanged a look with Abby. He knew that whoever had harmed you would soon be experiencing infinitely more wrath than they ever thought to bring upon you.

Eventually, your sobs calmed enough for you to explain the situation to them. 

Just as Abby suspected, you ended up telling her a long tale about how this once dreamy boyfriend had turned into a monster; he had shed his skin and shown another face, and he had been abusing you for a few weeks now, hurting you in the worst ways, right under everyone’s noses. 

Abby felt a stinging type of guilt splash up into her throat, and she had a feeling that she was never going to forgive herself for letting you be around that man. 

It had started at Jordan’s birthday party. That night, he had accused you of sleeping with Owen behind his back, and you had nearly scorched your throat trying to explain to him that Owen was your long-time friend, more like a brother to you. But that had only ended with you having a busted lip for ‘lying’ to him. 

And things had only gone downhill from there. 

The most recent incident being him coming home from a patrol to find that the dishes in your now shared apartment weren’t done, and he had called you a sloppy, lazy pig. The ensuing fight had ended with him nearly strangling you to death until you broke one of those dirty plates over his head.

Abby pulsed with anger, and when she went for the door, Manny stopped her. 

He nodded toward where you were still sitting on her bed, your body still visibly shaking as you stared at the floor with a completely blank look. Thunder rolled outside and the loud sound caused your entire body to jolt, and more tears rolled down your cheeks. 

Abby’s insides ached for you. She felt guilty for not following her gut feelings sooner, for not trying to help you sooner. 

“Abs, she needs you right now.” Manny told her. “I want that pendejo dead as much as you do.” He grunted these words with intense furocity, anger, passion. He needed to protect you as badly as she did. 

Abby almost tempted him. She wanted to encourage the bad side that she knew he had. She wanted that fucking prick’s throat under her hands, struggling for breath right now. 

“But tonight…” Manny continued, putting a hand on Abby’s shoulder, pulling her from the murderous revere that he knew she was disappearing into. “She needs a safe place to fall. Tomorrow, we can go to his place with a body bag and a shovel.” 

Unfortunately, he was right. 

So, as much as she wanted to charge out the door and bring the wrath of god to the man who had hurt you - instead, she got you to drink the rest of the tea, and then she got you something oversized and comfortable to wear. 

She put you on the inside of the bed, closer to the wall to help you feel safe. 

Abby stared up at the bottom of the bunk, cursing herself for not trusting her instincts, listening to your sniffling cries. She was entirely surprised when you spoke. 

“I’m sorry.” You said, once again attempting to apologize for ‘imposing’ yourself on Abby and Manny in your time of need. As if you weren’t supposed to lean on good friends. As if these friendships weren’t founded on needing each other. “I shouldn’t be bothering you like this, I-” 

You moved to climb around Abby, moved to get out of the bed, and Abby stopped you with a gentle hand on your waist. You froze on the spot, your body half pressed against hers. She tried to ignore the tingles it sent through her, feeling you pressed up against her so close. You were vulnerable. You didn’t need her and her stupid feelings making things so messy. 

“Are you seriously going back to him?” Abby asked, her throat nearly stripped raw with rage. 

You let out a quiet whimper, and She wanted to kick herself. Of course you thought her anger was misdirected at you. 

“I’m sorry.” She doubled back, entirely quiet now. She reached up, gently cupping the back of your head, trying to soothe you. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant, I’m sorry-” 

“It’s all my fucking fault.” You sobbed, dissolving into more harsh cries. “I should just listen better. I can be better, I can be better, I know, I just-” 

“No.” Abby growled, now entirely insulted by the idea that you would ever think it was your fault. Even if you swung first, no one ever had permission to hit you. Not on an earth where Abby was breathing. If anybody ever laid their hands on you, no matter their stupid reasons, they deserved to have it come back on them twice as harsh. “It’s not your fucking fault. Not a chance, baby.” 

‘Baby’ - the word slipped from her lips before she could stop it, and at first she hoped that you wouldn’t hear it over your own chest shaking cries. 

But it seemed to soothe you. In a moment, your sobs quieted down, and you melted into her, your body going lax against hers, laying on top of her in a way that she had quite literally only dreamed of. 

“Abby-?” You croaked out, not daring to ask if your ears had been mistaken. 

“You deserve so much better than that.” Abby replied, her voice quaking with passion and the intense purity of her declaration. “So much better than whatever that fucking asshole has been giving you.” 

You lifted your head from where it had fallen on her shoulder then. Your eyes were glassy with tears, the one still swollen and bruised from where he had hit you, possibly worse now as the injury truly set in. Abby reached over and grazed a thumb oh-so-lightly over the ring of the bruise, cursing it for existing in her mind. You bored into her soul as you stared her down, looking for any trace in her eyes that what she was saying was a feigned comfort, rather than her undeniable truth. 

“Like you?” You posed, the words so quiet on your lips that the breath barely escaped. 

It was a fantasy. It was a far-off dream. 

But still - Abby put a hand on the back of your neck and pulled you into a gentle, entirely sweet kiss. It was a promise. She was never going to let anyone hurt you again. 

In those moments, laying in her bed in the dark, it felt more like a dream. She was too perfect. It couldn’t be real. 

When you pulled back from the kiss, your gentle breaths puffing across her now wet lips, the words got caught in her chest. 

‘I’m going to kill him.’ 

That’s truly what she wanted to say to you. In her mind it was a comforting promise, but she knew that to you, it would sound much more like a foreboding threat. 

She chose something else instead. 

“It’s okay.” She told you quietly. “Go to sleep now.” 

You nodded lightly, and relaxed against Abby once more, tucking your face into her neck. She felt comforted by feeling your gentle breathing against her skin. You fell asleep curled up tight to her body, clutching fistfuls of the blanket and her shirt as the anxiety crept back in while you slept. Abby continued to fitfully go over it all in her mind, wondering how she could have let this happen to you. 

Sometime that night, she did fall asleep (likely from the pure exhaustion of a thirty hour tour). When she woke up - you were gone. Somehow, you had sunk around her sleeping body and disappeared. 

The mind games of your abuser were in full effect; the things he had said to you dancing around inside your head. Even though Abby and Manny didn’t know it, you were on your way to apologize to him for supposedly starting the previous night’s argument. 

Both your friends were struck with worry, and they dressed quickly in order to search for you. 

They thought the best game plan would be to head to the cafeteria, to start asking around to find out if anyone had seen you. Abby was surprised when she got to the cafeteria and easily spotted you among the faces. 

She found that rage boiling in her stomach once again when she saw that you were talking to him. 

It was a feeling that quickly turned blinding when the word ‘whore’ was thrown at you. 

Apparently he believed that because you wearing one of Abby’s shirts (the clothing you had slept in and kept on) it meant you had fucked her, and you were cheating on him yet again. It was a grand conspiracy, because you had never cheated on him with anyone before. (Other than when you had kissed Abby, seeking comfort the night before.) 

But all of that was a mere blur at the back of Abby’s mind. 

She felt herself snap when you moved to walk away from him and he grabbed your wrist with an abrasive roughness, jerking you back toward him. 

Without hesitation - without even considering any earthly consequences, Abby charged toward him. When you saw her large, intimidating form appear behind him, your eyes lit up like a deer in headlights, but he didn’t seem to notice her coming. That would be his demise. He was too hellbent on torturing you to pick up on anything else. 

It gave Abby the perfect opportunity. 

She grabbed the back of his collar and lined up a punch. The impact to his nose caused him to drop the grip on your wrist, and you cupped your hands over your face to muffle a gasp as you watched the fountain of blood spatter out from the hit. He screamed out, starting on some kind of protest, but Abby landed another hit on his jaw with a curled fist. This sent him hurtling toward the floor, landing flat like a starfish on his back, only semi-conscious at this point. 

She had gathered the attention of everyone in the room by now; random strangers who stared with shock and awe as she stepped toward him and put a knee in the middle of his chest. Some people began to cheer at the very one-sided brawl as Abby continued to brutalize the man, pummeling his face with her fists, completely fuelled by her intense rage, intent on punishing him for even thinking about hurting you. 

You yelled a protest, and moved toward her, wanting to stop the violence. But immediately Manny thought better of anyone getting between Abby and her target, especially in this state of intense blinding rage, so he caught you by the shoulders and held you back. He simply let you collapse into his chest and cry as Abby continued to bruise her knuckles on the man’s stupid face. 

Owen was the only one brave enough to push through the crowd, grabbing Abby’s elbow and screaming her name. He dared to pull her off the unconscious, nearly dead man as she continued to pant like a raging bull. 

Abby didn’t even have time to bandage her knuckles before news of the incident got back to Isaac. And then you, her, Manny, and Owen got called up to his office at the FOB to explain why one of the newbies was in a coma after being beaten half to death in the middle of the cafeteria. On her way to the trucks, Abby caught Nora by the elbow and tried to convince the medic to smother your ‘boyfriend’ with a pillow. Nora said she would if she could get a moment alone in his room in the medbay. Naturally, she trusted Abby’s judgment enough to know the guy was a scumbag without having to ask why. 

Abby was the first one to be called into Isaac’s office while you sat in a chair in the hallway. You were still crying hysterically; upset that it had come to such intense violence, shocked that you had witnessed something so bloody, and terrified that Abby was now going to get in trouble with Isaac because of you. 

Manny and Owen waited with you; Owen trying to get the full story out of you and Manny sheltering you, trying to get Owen to lay off his questioning, seeing as you were still sensitive and shaken from almost being murdered the night before. 

When Abby sat in the chair across from Isaac, she crossed her arms and slouched, spreading her legs wide, her jaw still absolutely tight with anger. She made no effort to hide her bloodied knuckles. 

Isaac cleared his throat loudly before he spoke. 

“Now I know, if you tried to kill that man, you had a damn good reason to.” He said, giving Abby the benefit of the doubt. “What did he do?” 

“He knows what he did.” Abby huffed out, almost too angered to think about it without spiraling out into another rage fit. 

Isaac glared at her, obviously wanted a better explanation than that. 

“If he’s unfortunate enough to wake up, you can ask him about it.” She gritted through her teeth. 

Isaac sighed hard. “Now, that’s not very helpful, Abby.” 

Hatred churned in Abby’s chest. She hated having to speak it aloud, but she supposed it was necessary. She hated that Issac was putting you through this, rather than simply believing that Abby knew what justice was when she saw it.  

“He tried to kill Y/N.” Abby said, hot, rage-fuelled tears gripping at her throat. “He’s been abusing her.” 

Isaac did need to confirm the story with you, and you insisted that Abby sit in the room with you while you talked to him. Isaac was someone you found vastly intimidating because you rarely had to deal with him. 

Abby stood behind your chair with a comforting hand on your shoulder while you spelled out the entire thing, Isaac listening quietly - the bruises on you were more than enough proof for him, and he had Manny come to collect you and get you some water and some tissues while he told Abby how the whole thing should be taken care of. 

“When you get back, tell Nora to pull back the young man’s medical care. I don’t need him wasting resources.” Isaac instructed, firm and simple. 

He was a practical man, and Abby admired that. 

“If he somehow miraculously pulls through, we’ll… deal with him then.” Isaac continued. Abby nodded. “Next time something like this happens, deal with it more privately. Shooting a rabid dog in public frightens people. You know I trust your judgment on these matters, but… I don’t need others questioning you.” 

“Yes sir.” Abby quickly agreed. 

They took you back home and Manny took you back to their apartment to help you get settled, saying something about ‘right way to cook eggs’ as he took you down the hallway. Abby knew he would keep you distracted while she took care of business. She then visited the medbay to give Nora that note about ‘withdrawing’ the scumbag’s medical care. Which in reality, just meant that Nora guarded the door while Abby smothered the guy with a pillow, not to take any chances. 

Over the next few weeks, Abby made sure that you would be safe. She moved you into her and Manny’s apartment, ensuring you would be close by to start you on a road to better healing, and even though it was tough - things did go up from there. 

You found it easier to heal and get back to being your old self while being close by to your friends, and if you realized the feelings you’d had for Abby the whole time - that was just a bonus. 

It was something you reflected on one morning as you tossed a tennis ball to one of the dogs. You weren’t expecting Abby to come by - you didn’t think she would be collecting a dog, you didn’t think she had a patrol that day. 

“Are you checking someone out?” You asked, reaching down again to grab the tennis ball from Bear’s mouth when he brought it back to you. You took a moment to pet him, scrubbing behind his ears as he gratefully leaned into the touch. 

“It’s my day off.” She reminded you. “I just wanted to come check up on you.” 

You gave a grin at this. Even if you hated what that man had done to you, done your mind and your life - you did like how it was bringing you and Abby closer together again. 

“This is the easy part of my day.” You told her, looking down at Bear with fondness. “If you treat them right, they never bite you back.” 

Abby’s expression faltered from lightness, just for a moment. She knew it had a double meaning. You still believed that the whole thing had somehow been your fault. 

She gently reached out and took the tennis ball from your hand, tossing it far to the other end of the fenced in yard, causing Bear to run after it. It was a temporary distraction away from the dog so that you would have to face her. 

Abby knelt down beside you, where you had been crouching at Bear’s level, and cupped your face very timidly in her hand. You leaned into the touch, now locked in her precious gaze as she gathered the right words for you. 

“You are a good person, Y/N.” Abby told you firmly. “You deserve nothing but goodness in return. And anybody who treats you with anything less than kindness is someone who has evil in their heart. And they deserve to suffer because of it.” 

Tears clouded your eyes at the pure sincerity of her words. 

“Abby-” You croaked. 

Before you could get caught up in possibly arguing with her, Bear came barreling back, and dropping the ball in your lap once again. He then licked a large stripe up the side of your face, and you dissolved into laughter because of it. 

Abby wanted to get used to hearing that sound.

...

A/N: This is a standalone one, so please do not ask me for a sequel to a continuation to it. If you enjoyed this, please comment about the body of work that I have already written, and if you want more, feel free to check out the numerous other Abby fics that I have on my TLOU Masterlist. Thank you!!!

[minhosimthings]

Call him up. He comes to my bedroom. Ended up we'd fuck on the hotel floor.

Summary: you, Jay, fucking after an award show

Warnings: smut, fem!reader, MINORS DNI, Oral (recieving), some comfort from husband material Jay

A/N: ALRIGHT! First smut work! I definitely need to improve a lot but here you go my babygirls. Also first Jay drabble! YAY! im taking a break from my work and writing whenever I'm at work and just staring at fishies.

Song rec: A&W by Lana del Rey. Yes the title is a lyric from that song. My favourite lyric!

"You wanted to see me baby?" Jay Park. Can anyone in this world get more luckier that you to get Jay fucking Park.

Award shows were boring, but when you had Jay beside you, it made it worth it, for you to stare at that slightly open white shirt with that watch that you gifted him, wrapped around his pretty little wrist. Yet again, L/N Y/N had won another award for best producer of the year. Some more of these and your house will end up becoming a store for selling 'Best producer' awards. Jay's group Enhypen had won 'Best boy band of the year' award this time and you were so proud of him. If not for the slight hiccup.

Being a producer, your ears were probably the most sensitive shit on earth, which enabled you to hear far more further than most people can (I actually have this ability and it's really cool!). Which in turn allows you to eavesdrop easily. But sometimes the eavesdropping isn't always the most comforting thing on this world, and as you heard your fellow producers smoke in the bathroom stalls and say 'She just got that award because she's Jay's girlfriend.' and 'He's so delicious though. Why did he pick that ugly bitch of a whore?'. You weren't really the type of person to cry or feel insecure, I mean after all you were in the kpop industry. Someone was always prettier or more talented than you. But hey, you were raised by some pretty good people, who taught you not to let jealousy take over you. But sometimes even saints abandon their principles in time of desperation. And for you? Your co workers shit talking about you was the time of desperation. You knew being in a relationship in this industry and letting it be public was a risk. But for Jay? Oh honey you'd risk the entire universe to be with him.

"Honey what's wrong? Hey are you crying?" Jay had walked into your hotel room, after you sent a staff member to get him. The afterparty was in the same hotel and you knew Jay would be with the rest of the boys, enjoying, drinking and critiquing every person's outfit. But you just couldn't go and stand there and give fake smiles to your coworkers, and pretend that everything was okay. You needed your boyfriend right now. And Jay would do anything for you, even abandon a party to come up to your magnificent suite. "Baby what's wrong?" Jay sat down on the bed next to you and cupped your cheeks. "You weren't at the party. I brought some food for you." Hearing that only made you sob harder onto your custom made red Prada dress, a gift from the worried man sitting in front of you, wondering silently what he could do to make you feel better as he stroked your hair and put your head against his chest.

"Shh baby shh. What happened?" "I- I heard them s-saying- Jay they think I- don't have- Jay." You sniffled in Jay's chest as he quickly understood what had happened. He had seen your coworkers giggling and approaching him again and again at the party and connecting the dots, it made perfect sense. Tracing the jewels on your dress with one hand and slightly taking off his tie with his other, Jay moved you to the pillow slowly, whilst admiring your figure in that dress. He hadn't had much of a chance to talk to you or see you up close since both of you were seated at different places, far from each other, neither did he have the chance to see you before the show, so when his eyes fell upon the tightly fit fabric on your hips, oh god his entire world came crashing down.

"Jay wha- what are you doi-" "Baby where do you keep the condoms?" You shuddered back as Jay slowly cane above you. "I- I'm on the pill." Jay slowly unzipped your dress, sneaking his hand behind you as you moved your hand to his collar. "Good" he growled against your ear. "You'll see what you're capable of tonight."

"Jay~" you whine as he grinds against your figure, the fabric of your dress slowly getting destroyed and ripped off of your body. You were quick to unbutton his white silk shirt, your gift, and unbutton his pants, throwing away the belt onto the bedside table. Jay moaned lowly as he inhaled the scent of your jasmine perfume, his favourite one. "Shit baby were you always this wet for him?" He teased you as you could do nothing but only whine in response. "Jay ah fuck!" He had slipped his fingers into your cunt, rings still on. The metal of the rings rubbed your pussy so hard, pleasure seeping in and out of you. "Is this ok baby? Or does my love need my cock inside?" "Jay ngh ahh fuck!" He slips himself in at an absolutely brutal pace, that your brain goes dumb and your pussy goes wild. This was heaven like you've never seen it. Jay was angry, so angry, and as his hands felt all of your naked skin, and all of your sadness turning into pure pleasure, satisfaction filled him to the brim. "No Jay don't pull out please." You whine to Jay as he slowly goes back. "Patience baby. Patience. I'll make you feel even better yeah? Give me my belt would you?" You were quick to reach out to the bedside table, where the brown leather belt lay, waiting for its turn. Jay slowly got your hands up and tied them to the bedframe with the belt tightly, as all you were capable of doing was whine and moan for him. "Jay please" He chuckled slowly at your desperate words and made his way down to your ripped pink panties. Pressing light kisses to your pussy, Jay took in your ever sweet whimpers and as his tongue darted out ever so often to flick you cute little clit, it drove you crazy, as you begged and begged for his cock again and again. "Aww does my Y/N want her daddy's dick inside of her now?" You whimpered again as he came up to you, face right above yours, hot breath, tinted with the smell of alcohol hitting your face. "Yes d-daddy please I need it please." You whispered to him. "Anything for my princess." He kissed you with his tongue moving around in your mouth, hands touching your clit, making you moan out his name, in the dirtiest way possible.

"Ah deeper Jay go deeper please." "You like that baby? Want me to cum inside of you hm?" The belt tied around your hands was untied now, as you moved your hands to Jay's pretty neck and thrust him into you. Jay sucked on your nipple softly, love and roses filling the huge room. The bed was definitely strong, because at the rate both of you were thrusting into each other, it should have broke. But then again, the hotel you were in wasn't called the best in the country for no reason.

"Wanna get in the shower baby?" Jay finally pulled out and flopped next to you on the bed, both of your hair and makeup, a mess. "Sure baby. Round two there?" You asked him, massaging your legs. Jay, to your dissatisfaction, shook his head. "No baby. Lets get washed up. We got an event tomorrow don't we? Don't want you limping at the event do we?" You pouted slightly as you remembered the Prada event you had tomorrow and as an ambassador, you had to deliver a speech. Yep another round of sex with Jay right now and tomorrow, nothing would be on your brain other than getting your pussy filled with his cum again. "Alright oh great Park Joengsoeng. I got your lavender shampoo. Wanna use that?" You said while getting up from the bed, completely naked. "Of course baby." Jay replied.

Winning an award tonight was good but getting your actual award with Jay was even better, you thought, as you entered the hot shower, Jay caressing your hips and kissing your neck. Yep you can't wait to get married to this man.

[hotwaterandmilk]

So I received my final big package of proxy stuff I'd bought before I changed jobs and it's full of great stuff (and weird stuff -- now I know why there's no internal pics of Asamiya's Lebia doujin around, her nips are out the whole time lol). However, there's one thing I am just absolutely over the moon about.

Like... just... I was stunned.

I managed to win an auction a few months back of the first Shougaku Ninensei issue featuring Fujii Midori's Wedding Peach manga (one of the manga serials that was never published in collected volumes). That in itself is pretty exciting, the only other chapters I own are towards the end of the series' run and I've never had the opportunity to see how it all started. BUT IT GOT BETTER.

*deep breath*

The first chapter of Fujii Midori's Wedding Peach manga is IN FULL COLOUR.

A FULL COLOUR WEDDING PEACH MANGA CHAPTER.

Now admittedly this chapter is like all of Fujii Midori's Wedding Peach manga chapters and only 8 pages in length. But it also has a bonus page in colour so that's 9 full colour pages in one issue. OF FUJII'S GORGEOUS, FUNNY, AND WHIMSICAL SHOUJO ART. ;o; I've been following Wedding Peach for 25+ years and it amazes me that I can still be floored by finds from this series after decades of digging into it.

Story-wise we have Momoko, Yuri and Hinagiku seeing a wedding in passing which causes Momoko to think back to her mother and the ring she left her. Enter Pluie who is after the Saint Something Four. He attacks the girls, they smack him back a bit, Limone appears with a compact (Saint Miroir) through which Aphrodite appears. Momoko shouts "Wedding Beautiful Flower!" and ALL THREE transform into angels before powering up (per above) into their fighter forms as Angel Peach, Angel Lily, and Angel Daisy.

Pluie is dispatched with Peach's "Saint Miroir Bridal Flash" attack and the girls return to their civillian forms, each wanting to know more about their new circumstances and the angel Limone. End chapter.

So a super condensed intro chapter that has all the girls awaken and transform at once (which makes sense given the number of pages Fujii was working with here). It's fascinating seeing what things were kept and what was ditched for length here.

Unfortunately my scanner problems are not over so it might be a while before I can share this chapter (which BTW has the kana title of Super Angel Story Wedding Peach or Chou Tenshi Densetsu Wedding Peach, potentially a variation on the initial Ai no Chou Tenshi Densetsu subtitle Yazawa's Ciao manga had). I just wanted to let you all know that this has consumed my mind today despite all the other crap going on in my life and the world.

Oh and I got some other sweet stuff too, stay tuned for more.

[llovelyclouds]

notes on alecto

hii!! so a few months ago i did a full reread of the locked tomb and took note of anything i thought seemed particularly relevant. I want to share what I have but I'm not sure exactly how i want to format everything quite yet- but im just gonna go for it so bear with me if its a little disorganized!

throughout the process i've started coming up with some of my own theories, but i thought it would be cool to post everything i've compiled, so people could use that to make their own conclusions as well :D

I have sections for anything that seemed important about all the original lyctors & their cavaliers, so I'm going to start off with all my information gathered about alecto! buckle in, folks, there's a lot :-)

you can find links to the other posts in the project here!

(also ofc spoilers for the up to the end of nona ahead!)

ALECTO

titles:

Also referred to as “A.L.”, “Annabel Lee,”or “Annie Laurie”  John’s cavalier, the soul of the Earth. (And of course, nona <;3)

Annabel Lee poem  (mentioned htn. pg. 196)

Annie Laurie poem (mentioned htn. pg. 345)

notes from harrow the ninth:

Harrow's psychosis seems to begin after seeing Alecto for the first time (htn. pg. 51)

Augustine describes her as "more lucid" than Mercy as an insult to Mercy (htn. pg 168)

"'God, who did you bury?' [...] 'I buried a monster,' he said." (htn. pg. 195)

(depending on how much of The Body is real) Agrees that Harrow should kill G1dieon (htn. pg. 226)

“Augustine said, ‘To sisters, and to the women we‘ve left behind.’ God’s mouth was cheerful as ever, but his eyes were not when he said, 'Do I have to drink to that?’ For the first time, you were witness to the Saint of Patience discombobulated. ‘Apologies, John. Wasn’t meant as a jab.’ ‘It doesn’t hurt anymore- most of the time,’ said God, and he was still smiling.” (htn. Pg. 277)

"Even the devil bent for God to put a leash around her neck… and the disciples were scared! I cannot blame them! I was terrified! But when the work was done- when I was finished, and so were they, and the new Lyctors found out the price- they bade him kill the saltwater creature before she could do them harm… Oh, but it is a tragedy, to be put in a box and laid to wait for the rest of time." - Teacher (htn. pg. 328)

Says she has to go away for a while immediately after Varun appears (htn. pg. 334)

John says that G1deon doesn’t talk about her, but Augustine and Mercy still feel guilty about what happened (htn. pg. 345)

“When I first met her I just called her First, One. She had a real name, but I buried it with her, and nobody says it anymore.” - John (htn. Pg. 345)

“Annabel Lee was my- what do I call her? Guide? Friend? I’d hope so… [...] She was the first Resurrection. She was my Adam. As the dust settled and I beheld what was left and what was gone, I was entirely alone. The world had been ended, Harrowhark. One moment I was a man, and the next moment I was the Necrolord Prime, the first necromancer, and more importantly, a landlord with no tenants. [...] I was dazed… I was bewildered… and she was my defender and my sole companion, and my colleague in the scholarship of learning how to live again. It was bloody difficult. I had never been God. [...] She lived to see what happened at Canaan House. Not that she took much interest. My first Resurrection was not a normal human being, Harrow, and she struggled to pretend. Anger was her besetting sin. We had that in common. And when the cost of Lyctorhood was paid, when the emotions were at their peak… we found out the price for our sin. The monstrous retribution. To be chased for our crime to the ends of the universe, to have our deed stain our very faces and follow after us like a foul smell. She died after that first terrible assault.” - John (htn. pg. 346)

"That freak would have gone for me already… she could never act human." -Mercymorn (htn. pg. 408)

the lyctors knew some amount of truth about Alecto's resurrection, likely that shes essentially a resurrection beast (htn. pg. 478)

"'A monster, John!' Augustine barked. "She was a bloody monster in a human suit! She was a monster the moment you resurrected her, and then you went and made her worse!'" - Augustine (htn. pg. 478)

Gideon & Pyrrha liked Alecto despite the fact that the other lyctors (at least Mercy and Augustine) didn't (htn. pg. 479)

One of the reasons the lyctors wanted her dead was because the RBs were partially coming for her (htn. pg. 479)

Appears to claim Harrow's body after Gideon "dies" in the river (htn. pg. 500)

notes from nona the ninth

"Sometimes, [...] I don't like when you do- the necromancy word- [...] -but it feels nice at the same time. It's mixed up. It's like when you do that, it makes me sad- not sad that you did it, but sad that you can do it." - Nona, to Palamades (ntn. pg. 65) 

"Nona loved the blue sphere as much as she loved everything else. She, and nobody else, could hear it sing." (ntn. pg. 125)

"'And I'm not scared of dying. Really truly, Cam, I'm not…' 'Why not?' said Camilla. Nona thought about it. 'Because I like letting go of the pull-up bars and falling off,' she said. 'I don't like the part just before you let go and I don't like the part where you hit the floor, but I like the letting go.'"- Nona and Cam (ntn. pg. 125)

"Dust of my dust- such similar star salt- what they did to you and what they wrung from you and what shape they made you fill- we see you still- we seek you still- we murdered- we who murder- you inadvertent tool- you misused green thing- come back to us- take vengeance for us- we saw you- we see you- I see you." - Judith, (as Varun) to Nona (ntn. pg. 164)

Nona likes Gideon's (originally Pyrrhas?? maybe?) sunglasses, but only so long as nobody wore them (ntn. pg. 165)

"then she told herself sternly, Stop it! If she was going to do it, she thought, she might as well do it. She had some vague notion that when you committed to a thing you had to do it all the way. Who had said that to her? Who had taught her that? Once you've stepped in, said the voice in the back of her head, you're in. This isn't the Hokey Pokey. She had remembered something- she had finally remembered something! Only she didn't have anyone to tell." (ntn. pg. 203)

"Nona had thrown exactly two tantrums in her entire life. She couldn't remember anything about the first one, but Pyrrha had told her about it. Pyrrha had been laughing with her mouth, but not with her eyes: her eyes had been very brown and distant and uneasy, as though this tantrum had reminded Pyrrha of something her brain didn't want to bring back." (ntn. pg. 275)

"'But you see, Palamades, I don't mind dying,' said Nona, trying to make him understand. 'I've been doing it for ages. I'm not scared.'" (ntn. pg. 289)

"'I am glad you did not tell us this. We had no idea there was any recourse from Varun the Eater's effects, nor any beast.' 'Its pure theory,' Camilla said curtly. "Something's being transmitted through the light spectrum. Absorption through the eyes is worse for the brain.' This made Nona think of something. It tugged at the edges of her memory and stayed there, nagging.'" - We Suffer & Cam (ntn. pg. 322) 

Nona says that she never liked her hands (ntn. pg. 357)

"She wanted to shout. She wanted to be listened to. She wished the barrier had taken her hands. She wished she had thrust herself into it- become that big seething mass of flesh and meat and tendrils- ruined her body, just melted it; come back messed up, so that nobody could want her body but her, so that it would be hers and nobody else's. This was a horrible thing to think. Nona hated herself immediately and fervently." (ntn. pg. 358)

She hates having just two feet (ntn. pg. 390)

“You were the noise that was everywhere. It was like trying to talk to someone down a phone line with someone screaming through a megaphone in the same room. You drowned everything out. You were so huge and so complicated, and you were screaming, You wouldn’t stop screaming, You were so scared. You were so goddamn mad.” (ntn. pg. 405)

“You were screaming. I wanted you to stop, I wanted… I wanted you. I wanted you like a caveman wants a wildfire… or the sun. I thought you were going to take me, somehow. Purge me. Use me as an instrument. But you didn’t say anything…I was babbling, Show me. Come on. I’m ready. You kept screaming and screaming… like a baby in pain. So I tried to hurt you- I did hurt you. I reached out for you, and it hurt you… but I wasn’t strong enough. The caveman. The wildfire. The Neolithic priest staggering in front of the falling star.” (ntn. pg. 407)

“I wanted to make you the most beautiful body I could think of. He paused and said: “But I was stressed, okay? I was insane. Most of what had made me John had gone somewhere else. There were a few little thoughts left…a handful of things that made me me… a couple scraps of id. It’s not fair to judge me, right? I didn’t do this thinking… I didn’t do it like art. When I was seven, you know, all Nana had to play with in her house was some of Mum’s old toys. And my favourite out of all of them…” He gave a long, shuddering sigh. “My favourite was her old Hollywood Hair Barbie,” he murmured. “I loved her little gold outfit and her long yellow hair. She was the best. She got to have all the adventures. [...]” He said, from my blood and bone and vomit I conjured up a beautiful labyrinth to house you in. I was terrified you’d find some way to escape before I was done. I made you look like a Christmas tree fairy… I made you look like a Renaissance angel… I made you Adam and Eve… Galatea. Barbie. Frankenstien’s monster with long yellow hair. He said, As the world went up I remade us both. I hid me in you… I hid you in me. And when we were together… once the shaman had claimed the sun… I became God.”- John (ntn. pg. 408)

“Do you remember what you said to me once I had done it? When we stood here together?” She looked at him and she said, “Yes.” He said- “You said, ‘I picked you to change, and this is how you repay me?’” She said- “What else did I say?” He said: “You said, ‘What have you done to me? I am a hideousness.’” She said- “What else did I say?” He said, “Where did you put the people? Where did they go?” She said, “I still love you.” He said, "You said that too.” - John & Alecto/Harrow (ntn. Pg. 410)                                                

Nona has some kind of blackout on top of the truck and something happens in that time that convinces Pyrrha of her true identity (ntn. pg. 413)

Also based on Nona’s reaction at that point, maybe Alecto didn’t like Pyrrha even though Pyrrha liked Alecto (ntn. pg. 413)

“She’s scared to die. You’re afraid of so many things, but she’s only afraid to die. Then when the disciples come to you and say the word Lyctor, she does not understand that they want the thing you did to her- she watches as you watch… watch them misunderstand the process.” - Harrow, to John, (ntn. pg. 434)

“In [Aiglemene’s] hands was a huge black-metal pike about the same height as her, with an edge that gleamed in the light. Nona couldn’t stop herself looking at that edge: for some reason it made her palms sweat, and the back of her neck itch again.” (ntn. pg. 454)

“I might not help you when.. I'm back," she said, not quite understanding I. “I'll be different. I'll remember everything. I'll remember the thing I'm trying to forget. And Palamedes-  I won't love him. I won't love Camilla, or Pyrrha, or Hot Sauce, or even Noodle. I won't love anything… I won't know how. I won't be me at all, or.. I'll be the me who knows the thing, and knowing the thing means I'm not Nona- I'm someone else." (ntn. pg. 460)

she recognizes the tower, and the devils (ntn. pg. 440, and 447, respectively)

“You let that monster out of its box," said Ianthe, "and you start us down a path nobody can save us from. If God truly wants her out… if Teacher set this all up… if he wants her…"  “Wants her? He told me to kill her. He said Make it quick, but kill her, said me with my blood could do it- said me with my blood, I was the only one… " [...] “He loves her! " Ianthe howled. “John loves Alecto - John needs Alecto! Without that piece of Goddamn fridge meat, he's nothing- and we need to keep him that way!” - Ianthe & Kiriona, accidentally prompting nona to remember everything (ntn. pg. 470)

“She had been taken down this corridor: she had squeezed through this crack in the rock- not a passageway, not at that point. John had told her he had something to show her. He had said, It's very pretty. You'll like it. [...] John loved her. She was John's cavalier. She loved John. For she so loved the world that she had given them John. For the world so loved John that she had been given. For John had so loved her that he had made her she. for John had loved the world. [...] She hadn't come on purpose; the scrap of black-eyed meat had asked for it- the chain of a kiss: the ice that burnt the flesh of the mouth that had stuck to the mouth that was frozen.The teardrop on the hand. The hand that John had fashioned. [...] John had said, It's so beautiful. Come and look. She had said, There are almost no beautiful things left. where is Anastasia? Let me talk to Anastasia. [...] Glowworms, she had told John. Technically beetles, said John, but I always loved them. Narrow beetles with long strands hanging off them- a carpet of shifting, dead, winking lights at the top of the grave. Greenish, orangish, yellowish, moving over one another silently with those long filaments hanging down. [...] And the water- the huge pool of real salt water, where she had knelt and drank- [...] John and she had swum to the centre hummock rising out of the pool. Not an island, not really. An outcropping. With the marble pillars, and the marble top, and the long low marble table. He said he thought it was a nice place to be. To lie down. She had liked hard things to lie down on. It was hard to endure having a spine.” (ntn. starting page 471)

“There she was; John had made her so ugly, so unbearably ugly. The terrible face, with the terrible arms and legs and the terrible middle part, and the terrible hair, and the terrible ears: the nose too short, the ears too brief. But there she was- and within her the child, asleep, with the strange sword. The sword- her sword- her own edge had been pushed out, her swinging edge, her toy. Her plain bladed sword. And her body was chained up…” (ntn. pg. 474)

“Then Alecto remembered the vow, and turned back upon the altar to face the second child and raised the sword with wrath in her heart, for they meant to bring destruction upon her. But when the black-eyed infant showed her countenance to Alecto, Alecto recalled her, for it was a face one dreamed in Alecto's dream. and Alecto stayed the sword.” (ntn. pg. 476)

“And Alecto said, Pyrrha, he laid me down as an appeasement to them; he fed you to them as an appeasement to them; but he has never appeased me, and now all he has done was teach me how to die." (ntn. Pg. 476) 

"Alecto said, I am very sorry about Samael. The child made no answer. Alecto said, I remember my vows. As I swore to Anastasia I swear to you. I am in your service until you bid me the favour, and whatsoever you appoint I shall perform, and consider the vow rendered. This is what I promised, until such a time as you deal with me as you see fit.” (ntn. pg. 477)

[brothermouse]

Hey what would you call an adult in the church whi is nonbinary? It wouldn't be brother or sister so would it be sibling or something else

This is a really good question that I've regrettably never considered.

Let's try a few out.

"Sibling" comes to mind first. Sibling Smith? It does fit with the brother/sister terminology, but I'm not sure if it works as a title? That might just be because I'm not as used to "Sibling Smith" as I am to "Brother/Sister Smith".

"Saint Smith" fits with the "Latter-day Saints", but I worry that it's a bit to ostentatious? It feels like a comment on their righteousness. Brother/Sister has a more humbling aspect. More like "we're equals here".

"Fellow Smith" Feels very old school Quaker. Maybe too old school?

"Friend Smith" good for expressing that we like them, but kind of implies they exist outside the family

"Cousin Smith" keeps them in the family, but kind of makes them more distant family.

"Comrade Smith" getting members to embrace nonbinary members AND imply that capitalism isn't God's gift to man might be a bridge too far. For now.

There might also be some non English words that are much better suited for this we could adopt, but I don't know them.

[cowboysanddragons23]

Arthur Morgan has been training to fight Dutch during his whole arc and doesn't even realize it, as all of the antagonists he fought against, all represent an aspect of Dutch:

-Colm O'Driscoll: Colm O'Driscoll is an outlaw who cares only about causing chaos and destruction, with no sense of idealism or loyalty towards his men, seeing them only as expendable numbers, focusing only on the quantity aspect instead of quality. He rules his gang with a cultistic mix of fear and adoration ("He's..uh..uh.. wh-when he talks to you nicely is like the sun is shining, and when he is mad at you, it's like the devil's gonna be upon you"). This parallels how Dutch would behave during Chapter 6, leaving Arthur and John to die and regarding the rest of the gang as expendable numbers and leads them with a cultistic mix of adoration and fear.

-Leviticus Cornwall: Leviticus Cornwall is an industrialist who, despite his delusions of gentlemanliness and eloquence, he robs, kills and destroys everything on his path, showing utter lack of concern about the destruction he leaves on his wake ("Business doesn't give a damn about feelings."). He is also obsessed with getting more power and will betray the law he claims to uphold so he can get what he desires. This reflects how Dutch threw away the ideals he cherished so much the moment pressure started mounting him at the drop of a hat, but also that despite dressing elegantly and speaking eloquently, he is a criminal hiding under a mask of sophistication.

-Andrew Milton: Andrew Milton is a Pinkerton agent determined to make his vision of the world a reality, starting out with a noble intention (which is up to interpretation), which is to clean up the West, yet ends up descending more into savagery and uncivilization, yet retains a sliver of honor. This mirrors how Dutch started out wanting to build an utopia using brutal and relentless methods, yet ends up descending more and more into insanity, dying a violent death.

-Tavish Gray and Catherine Braithwaite: Tavish Gray and Catherine Braithwaite are the heads of the Gray and Braithwaite families, who despite the times advancing, they still remain stuck in the past, wallowing about the "good ol' days" where they could hurt and kill with impunity. This is a parallel how Dutch refused to stop being an outlaw and had no intention of retiring at all.

-Angelo Bronte: As already explained in my earlier post, Angelo Bronte is a mobster who rules Saint Denis as a king, who has both the police and mafia serving as his knights. Similar to Cornwall and Colm, Bronte is not only supported by society, but is also a criminal who has no delusions about the nature of his business, treating others as dirt and manipulating them into doing what he wants. He also takes orphans into his thrall in order for them to serve him as criminals. This parallels how Dutch treats the gang at heart, with a compassionate way, but in the most condescending and arrogant way possible, but also how he adopted Arthur and John, grooming them into becoming his personal weapons.

-Alberto Fussar: Alberto Fussar is the dictator of Guarma, who he rules as its ruthless autocrat, claiming to work for the glory of Guarma, yet being utterly uncaring and apathetic towards the people inside it, working them to death and outright importing slaves for him to use as workforce in order to satisfy his own endless greed. When his right hand man, Levi Simon, was shot, he left him to die and only cared about saving himself and his pride. Fussar is also ruthlessly intolerant of any viewpoint other than his own. This parallels with how Dutch rules the gang, as the title of the mission "A Kind and Benevolent Despot" can be also applied to Dutch as well, as he gaslights on numerous times the members of the gang the moment they start questioning him and is willing to kill them himself.

-Henry Favours: Henry Favours is a colonel in the US Army who after an undistinguished career, hatches a plot to "reclaim" his "lost glory" by manipulating the Wapiti into war, eventually becoming one of its casualties, while being regarded as an incompetent moron. This is a reflection of how Dutch manipulated the indians in order to both make his escape and to cause chaos and his delusional belief about being a mastermind, yet having in reality an abysmal track record.

[krenenbaker]

hi y'all! ♡

sorry for kind of, uh... disappearing the past few days. I'm doing alright, and I'm back! (and will be catching up on what I've missed come the morning - the dawn of a new year!)

I've been tagged in a number of these posts, and I wanted to also express my gratitude to everyone here who has made this past year - my most active year on Tumblr - so very pleasant.

2023 had a number of big life changes for me, as well as a few new wildly intense interests. there was, as my blog title suggests, both comfort and obsession. finding twst and the community here has opened me to so many other interests as well - the Ikémen games, Obey Me!, The Arcana, Black Butler, and a number of others. my interests in paleo- and marine biology have been reignited. and though my obsession with the Six Idiots' creations has slightly waned this year, I am so, so glad to still see so much lovely content about those works on my dash. and with BBC Ghosts airing the FINAL EPISODE this past year, too? it's so interesting to experience all these things on this semi-functional website

and I've met so many fantastic people in 2023, too. I've made some fantastic friends, whom I feel so fortunate to have met. you've made my days so much brighter since I've come to know you!! I hope to have many more laughs and more this coming year with you.

here, I want to thank all the people who have made this year a wonderful, wonderful time, in the various different fandoms and communities out here on Tumblr. I've tagged ALL my mutuals on this blog here - both the ones I consider moots and interact with frequently, and the ones where we simply follow each other, occasionally liking or reblogging posts. each of you make my Tumblr experience special, and I appreciate every one of you. I also deeply appreciate all my other followers, and those with whom I interact. you are all so lovely ♡

thank you for making 2023 a wonderful year. and I hope to see you throughout 2024 as well ♡ Happy, happy new year!!

@gardenghost5, @mission-report-1991, @acrosstheoldstream, @purpleandgreen13, @leftabit-leftabit, @fandomsmeantheworldtome, @love-rats, @mimiii-3, @spectral-rat, @totallymem3, @fluffle-bean, @dove-da-birb, @keii-starz, @sharkinablanket, @kami-kun1003, @azulashengrottospiano, @candied-boys, @inkybloom-luv, @ameleii, @eynnwwyjth, @red-viewe, @crheativity, @xxoomiii, @officialdaydreamer00, @ridorukunmajitennshi, @vivislosingitagain, @v-anrouge, @ithseem, @somany-fandoms-solittle-time, @twstfanblog, @rosehxnt, @twistwonderlanddevotee, @cheezy-moon, @whspermy-name, @xen-blank, @vordysgoingtotherapy, @thehollowwriter, @angelhairpastawithherbs, @jangletam, @haruhar-u, @saint-garden, @moonlitnyx, @hungry-eel, @the-banana-0verlord, @i-like-forgs, @kirans-wonderland, @citrusitonit, @vioisgoinginsane, @shirubiaowo, @underly-niche-joy

I love yas ♡