#Roma don’t even need him like that | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

angellayercake · 8 months ago

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Banchetto: Insalata

Papa Emeritus III x Reader

AO3 | Contorno | Masterpost

A caprese salad consists of so few ingredients but as long as they are fresh and ripe they bring the perfect balance. For variety you pick an assortment of tomatoes, blood red heirlooms, green beefsteak and orange roma. The visual appeal of the assorted colours, shapes and texture more than make up for the non traditional choices. Freshly made mozzarella as well, all evenly sliced and then already the preparation is almost complete.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

You are reading. Well, you are trying to read but unfortunately the man sitting across from you is proving far too much of a distraction. It was mid morning, breakfast long since eaten and cleared away. You had joined him as you did so often now and it was barely creeping towards time to begin thinking about lunch. Copia had returned your notes and you were still in the process of working through them, adding sticky notes with your amendments into the recipes to help you when time came to make them. That’s what you should be doing at least.

Instead every few seconds you find your gaze pulled back to him. He is also reading, the glasses he only just admitted to needing perched on the end of his nose. They slip further down every time he scrunches his face at whatever it is he is reading and you have lost count of how many times he has paused to push them up carelessly. Every now and then he notices the smudges left by his fingers and removes them completely to wipe them on his handkerchief as he shoots you a smile. He had let his hair air dry this morning so it falls in soft waves over his forehead. The muted sunlight catches in his silver roots every time he pushes his hair out of his eyes. You think to tell him how good he looks at this moment but you don’t want to break the comfortable silence.

It’s sickeningly domestic but you can honestly say you have never been happier. The shift was subtle at first as you had spent a great deal of time in his rooms anyway but in a matter of days that time grew longer and longer until you rarely left on more than an errand from morning to evening. He would ask you to sit with him as he worked, join him for meals, linger in the kitchen as you prepared and even once attempting to help you clean the dishes. That is until he ended up dropping a plate in his inattention, the resounding crash making your heart skip a beat in a much less pleasant way then it usually did around him. You couldn’t even begin to be annoyed with him though, his apologetic puppy eyes forcing you to let him off with only a banishment to the kitchen table and a kiss to the tip of his nose.

Affection was easier now, not always so underlined with that awkward tension you had almost become used to. He liked to touch you. To lace your fingers together across the table when you ate, rest his hand on your waist when you stood together, play with a lock of your hair as you spoke, press a chaste kiss to hand or your cheek in passing. You had been hesitant at first to return his affection so boldly but the way he would glow when you reached for him first, his wide smile emphasising your favourite creases at the corners of his eyes, was enough to override your self consciousness.

There was still tension there, hot little frissons if you look into his eyes a bit too long or his body rests a little too close. Part of you wants to chase it but you no longer felt the need to rush. Although unspoken it seems you both chose to relish in this period of getting to know each other better, talking about your likes, dislikes, views and opinions or just existing in each other's company. It is comfortable in a way you never imagined you could be with him but you are more sure now than ever that ‘Papa Emeritus III’ who had led the Ghost project and the church was only a very superficial part of who he was.

There’s a childlike glee in him every time he tells you stories of his life peppered with ridiculous puns and dorky jokes that feels so far removed from the persona you had thought you had known previously. And yet you can see how he thrived as a performer and took to that role so naturally. He puts his whole self into recreating the tale he is telling with animated hands, exaggerated expressions and often silly voices whether he is talking about his misspent youth, rising through the clergy ranks or his touring adventures. You would start to feel very uninteresting in comparison until he would start to tease stories from you. Your worst cooking disasters that have him crying with laughter and disbelief that you could ever make a potato explode. But when he asks you of your family and your childhood you see a sad wistfulness in his expression that makes your heart hurt and you hope that one day he might open up about some of the harder parts of his life as well.

The tolling of the 11 o’clock bell brings an end to your romantic reverie. It is time to return to reality and begin thinking about lunch. You uncurl yourself from the armchair, your movements capturing his attention. He beckons you towards him with a curled finger as he places his book down on the settee beside him. You should go straight to the kitchen but as he has distracted you all morning anyway what is the harm in a few more minutes. You are sure your eagerness is obvious as before you know it you are sitting in his lap with his arms around you.

‘Where are you off to cara mia,’ he says once you are settled. You slide his glasses up and into his hair, pulling the long fringe out of his face and you can’t resist letting your fingers run through the length until you can play with the strands at the nape of his neck. ‘I have been enjoying you watching me so attentively.’

‘And I was enjoying the view,’ you tease. His deep chuckle rumbles through his chest pleasantly where you are pressed against him. He leans up for a kiss, unable to keep the pleased smile from his face. Your lips ghost over his, barely indulging him but leaning down to continue talking in his ear. ‘I am about to start working on your lunch.’

‘How about an amuse bouche first mia cuocoina?’ He is irresistible when he is like this so you indulge him. You press kisses along a teasing path, his temple, his sharp cheekbone and the tip of his nose before finally reaching his lips. He closes the remaining distance between you impatiently and just as you are about to deepen the kiss a loud knocking rings out through the room. He drops his head against the back of the settee with a huff of annoyance and you have to forcibly remove his hands from your hips for you to be able to get up. You open the door to find a ghoul waiting for you on the other side holding a basket and a note.

‘From Papa Primo, for you Sister.’ They hand it to you before abruptly turning to leave and you see Terzo’s head shoot up in interest as you close the door and turn around.

‘What is he writing to you about?’ He glares over the back of the chair, watching you put the basket down on his desk.

‘Let me open it and I will tell you,’ you retorted. The basket is heavy and you have no doubt that this is yet another offering from Primo’s greenhouses. He hauls himself up from the settee with an exaggerated groan as you unfold the thick paper and read.

Sorella it is about time my brother gets out of his rooms and I suspect you will have more success convincing him then I. If I could prevail on you to make us a light lunch and bring it along with him to the rose garden I would be very appreciative. Secondo and Copia will also be joining us as well as yourself if you would do us the honour.

I will expect you both at noon.

Primo

Terzo. It will be good to see you. Please do not give the sorella any trouble and do as you are bid.

Handing the note to him you dig into the basket. Underneath the fragrant bunches of fresh herbs you find it’s filled to the brim with ripe tomatoes in a variety of sizes and colours, probably hand picked from the vine that very morning.

‘Why do you get a longer note than me?’ He grumbles, squinting at his brother's cursive scrawl, clearly forgetting to drop his glasses back down onto his nose. Circling around him you knock them gently out of his hair so he can at least see even if they land a little crookedly.

‘Lunch is going to be alfresco today,’ you call over your shoulder as you head into the kitchen to get started, not giving him any chance to argue. With less than an hour to prepare this is not going to be your most elaborate creation but you have some freshly made mozzarella and along with Primo’s offering you have an idea that should be perfect.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

The dressing for this salad could be as simple as a drizzle of balsamic vinegar but you do prefer to add a little more flavour. To an old jam jar you add olive oil, honey, freshly pressed garlic and of course the main ingredient, balsamic vinegar. Why a jam jar you may ask? Well the trick with a vinaigrette is understanding that the separate ingredients don’t really want to mix together. You can stir it, whisk it, even blend it but unless you are serving it straight away the mixture will begin to separate. You prefer to give it a good shake to mix everything and your trusty jam jar allows you to do that right before the dish is served.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

Prepping a quick salad with what Primo had sent you takes around half an hour but you are done with time still to spare. Terzo had disappeared to his bedroom after grumbling to himself about his ‘fratello esigente’ and was yet to return so you took the time to grab some leftovers to make this lunch a little more substantial. There was half a loaf of bread that you sliced up, some stuffed peppers and olives, cuts of ham and cheese and even some pepper taralli that had become a constant request since you had first made them all those weeks ago.

With everything that would fit packed away in the little basket you go to find Terzo who had yet to reappear. Even with the amount of time you were in each other's company you still hadn’t spent more than a few minutes in his bedroom. You understood, you supposed. It was his one sanctuary away from everything but you hoped one day soon he might invite you even there. The door is open when you round the corner and you see him standing before his mirror, a pile of shirts sitting on the bed next to him.

‘I’m ready to go Terzo,’ you say after knocking on the door frame. He turns to you with a frown on his face but your attention is drawn to his open shirt. His dark chest hair and olive skin contrast beautifully with the stark white of the shirt he is trying on. He starts to button it from his mid chest leaving an enticing glimpse but you can see his frustration build as he gets further and further down. His once flat stomach now protrudes slightly from his waistband, not enough to have the buttons pull but the shape of his body is visible. He looks incredible.

‘I can not go out like this cara mia,’ he says, turning back to his reflection to scrutinise his outfit.

‘Why not?’ you ask. You cross the room coming to a stop behind him so you are looking at the same thing he is in the mirror.

‘Look at me,’ he gestures up and down the length of his body before settling his hands where he seems to be most self conscious. You can’t have him thinking he looks anything less than irresistible for even a moment.You wrap your hands around his waist sliding them under his own,where he is holding his belly. You caress the soft swell back and forth while you try and catch his gaze in the reflection.

‘I am and I see a happy healthy man who has enjoyed delicious food made for him by someone who lo .. cares about him very much.’ His eyes flash in surprise before he looks over himself again from your perspective, a smug smile growing on his lips. You hope he is just about to accept your compliment and didn’t catch your little slip but you end that train of thought there.

‘Oh is that so?’ His spark has returned, your compliments feeding his usual confidence in his attractiveness. But there is something else in his expression like he has just figured something out. ‘You like me like this, eh?’

‘I like you. Full stop.’ He preens but you sense that he wants to push you further. Hopefully the time limit you are on will stall him for now. You aren’t sure that you are quite ready to admit how much you have enjoyed feeding him up.

‘Mmm ok,’ he responds thoughtfully, turning in your arms and pulling you flush against his soft body. He kisses you soundly, chasing your lips every time you try to pull back. Before long though his playful mood shifts as he steps back. He takes your hands in his but otherwise maintains some space between you. ‘There is something we need to talk about though before we go.’

‘What is it?’ There is a hint of worry in his voice but you try not to let yourself speculate. You needed to just listen to what he had to say.

‘Please don’t misunderstand me when I say this.’ He pauses for but a moment to press a kiss to your knuckles trying to reassure you of his sincerity. ‘Until very recently I have never truly felt my life was my own. I had a set path that I was to walk down and very big shoes to fill as leader and well, you have seen my brothers.’ He is torn between a fondness and frustration that you can understand. ‘No matter what I do I am their fratellino.’ He locks his eyes on yours willing you to understand. ‘This, I mean what we have, I don’t want their input not yet.’

‘I understand Terzo.’ It is a relief to know this was all he was concerned about. You had seen for yourself how they had treated him during the intervention you had been witness to. Even though you wholeheartedly agreed with them at that time. You can understand why he would want to keep what you have private, especially so early in whatever it was that was happening. Not to mention you had your own reasons for not wanting them to know.

‘You do?’ You can’t help but smile at the relief on his face.

‘Of course. I think you are right.’ You had long since stopped worrying about the distinction between your work for him and your relationship but you are well aware of how it might look to others. How unprofessional you were being. ‘Your brothers asked me to do a job and they might not be happy to know that I have taken on additional duties.’ You say with a wink, trying to lighten his mood further. You’re rewarded with his deep rumbling laugh as he pulls you close again.

‘Si, si. We should review these additional duties. I think I have some additions.’ He leers at you and you can feel your cheeks heat up in response.

‘Stop that we will be late.’ You swat at his chest and get to hear him laugh yet again but it really is time to get going. ‘And I am going to need your help carrying all this food.’

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

Now for your favourite part, making it all look pretty. You lay out your slices of mozzarella first, randomly placing them across the large tray you are using for this dish. The slices of beefsteak and heirloom tomatoes next trying to keep the colours balanced. You use the bright orange roma tomatoes to fill in the remaining gaps and then all that is left is fresh basil leaves tucked between the slices.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

‘Sorella you spoil us!’ Primo says helping you unpack the basket onto the table that had been set up. You had never paid much mind to this shady corner of the rose garden but it does seem like the perfect place for an alfresco lunch. The wrought iron dining set is well kept with only specs of rust appearing on some of the joints between the ornate decorations. Five chairs are positioned around half of the oval table giving everyone a view of the garden. The table had already been set with a plain table cloth thrown over, shining silver cutlery, pretty floral plates and a bottle of red wine, already been decanted, a lace cap sitting over the opening to discourage any tempted bugs.

‘Oh it was nothing at all Papa. Most of this I had already prepared and the salad was simple enough.’ He smiles at you warmly, his light paints emphasising the creases of his expression. He had taken the centre seat and he gestures you into the seat to his right, patting your shoulder gently. You aren’t entirely sure why you have been invited to this family gathering but it would be rude to question his invitation.

Secondo is sitting to his left already sipping on a glass of wine but he offers you a smile, a subtle lift of the corner of his mouth before his attention is drawn to Terzo. You glance to your right where he is sitting looking uncomfortable, even hidden behind his dark glasses. He seems to be staring into the nearest bush trying to ignore the presence of his brothers. As you take a seat you try to subtly rest your hand on his knee and give him a gentle squeeze, about the only reassurance you can, given your agreement not to give away the nature of your relationship to his family quite yet. He glances at you offering you a weak smile but he rests his hand over yours before clearing his throat.

‘Is Copia too busy to join us now?’ He asks, sounding oddly formal but finally looking in Primo’s direction.

‘He said he would be here,’ he replies calmly as he pours everyone a glass of wine, topping up Secondo’s last. After accepting his Terzo slumps back into his seat nursing his glass. Primo tuts at him. ‘Vieni adesso, Renzo, non vorrai essere scontroso con il nostro ospite, vero?’ He sits up abruptly lifting his glasses so he can glare at Primo.

‘Quindi è per questo che l'hai invitata? Quindi mi comporterei bene?’ Secondo tries to conceal a laugh at his Italian outburst which only earns him a share of Terzo’s glare.

‘I have my reasons fratelino, but let’s not argue today.’ He looks at him sternly. ‘Por favore.’

‘Nessun tipo di compagnia potrebbe farlo comportare da adulto,’ Secondo mutters but whatever he says seems to upset both Primo and Terzo. ‘Ey!’ He shouts, rubbing the back of his head where Primo had just administered a quick slap.

‘None more of that! From either of you, capisce?’ He points at the two brothers waiting for them both to nod in agreement before sitting back down. The four of you sit in silence just waiting for Copia’s arrival but just when it begins to get unbearable you hear a commotion heading towards you.

‘Sorry I am late,’ Copia calls out breathlessly as he rushes around the corner in a blur of red. ‘Meeting with Sister Imperator ran over,’ he pants collapsing into the chair next to Secondo. He had forgone his cassock today but was still buttoned up in one of his formal suits in spite of the seasonal weather. Clearly one of the perks of being a retired Papa was being able to dress more casually. You are not sure if you had ever seen them dressed this casually during any of their reigns.

‘Everything has gotten so behind with the Ghost project since, well…’ He trails off glancing at Terzo. He clears his throat, deciding not to continue with that line of conversation. ‘Terzo, Papa, you are looking well.’

‘Thank you Cardinal, you look like you could do with a good night's sleep.’ He smiles but it is sharp, Copia’s misstep digging at his still sore pride.

‘Well, shall I tell you all what is on the menu?’ You interrupt not wanting the awkwardness to linger any longer.

‘Yes please do, Sorella,’ Primo says, relieved at your quick thinking.

��What you sent over was absolutely perfect for a caprese salad because just yesterday I had made some fresh mozzarella so that is the main attraction of today’s lunch but I also brought some leftovers we had to make sure no one left hungry.’ You may be waffling slightly but they all listen politely as you point out all the separate dishes.

‘Yes I see my fratello has not been going hungry of late.’ At least Secondo waited until after you finished but you watch nervously for Terzo’s response but he just relaxes back in his chair smirking at his brother.

‘You are not wrong I have been kept most satisfied by Sorella.’ His double entendre makes you wince slightly but you just hope they mark it down to Terzo being Terzo.

‘No need to tell us that we can see quite well, ' he says, patting his own distinctly flatter stomach. ‘Primo you were right to call us here today. We need to help Terzo by eating all of this food so he doesn’t have to.’

‘Ah ha,’ Terzo laughs. ‘So this is another intervention then no?’ Primo shakes his head but doesn’t intervene this time, deciding that this back and forth was mostly good natured.

‘Si, an intervention for your growing waistline fratello,’ On the surface it is harsh but you can tell this is familiar ground for them, teasing and competing to one up each other. You imagine there were many similar conversations had when Secondo lost his hair.

‘I do not mind so much,’ he shrugs, resting his arm on the back of your chair and letting his fingertips graze your shoulder. ‘I think there are plenty of people who enjoy a well fed man.’ You feel your cheeks heat as he says it remembering back to your conversation and you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your face, gaging your reaction. If you look at him now you are sure your cover will be blown. Instead you hide your embarrassment by serving out salad between your plates but you miss the pointed looks shared between Secondo and Copia.

There is a period of peace across the table as they all enjoy their food, the only conversation a series of compliments as they work their way through everything you brought. You are glad you decided to bring all the leftovers as you watched Primo using the last slices of bread to dip into the dressing, the only remains of the caprese salad and Copia groaning and rubbing at his stomach as he polishes off the last of the stuffed olives.

‘I can see how you got so well fed Papa,’ he smiles in your direction. ‘I feel as if I could burst but I still don’t want to stop eating.’ You smile at his praise but you are pleased to see them all nodding in agreement.

‘Luckily for you Cardinal, all that is left is some taralli.’ You offer them each one, finishing off the last of your supply.

‘You are lucky I didn’t know she had packed up this,’ Terzo grumbles. ‘Giving my favourite to these idioti.’

‘I will make you some more Papa, don’t worry,’ you reassure him. ‘I think I have the recipe down perfectly now if I do say so myself.’

‘Where did you get the recipe, Sorella?’ Secondo asks. He looks down at the taralli in his hand. ‘I can’t say I am an expert like Terzo here, but these taste exactly like the ones I remember. The ones your Madre used to send us, before.’ Before what you wonder? You glance between Terzo and Secondo but this time it seems they are sharing a fond memory instead of making digs at each other.

‘I just found it online after Papa mentioned he would like them.’ You glance at Terzo but he doesn’t try to stop your white lie.

‘It’s a shame you don’t have any of her recipes Terzo,’ He thinks aloud while eating his last bite. ‘I’m sure she had made the best food I had ever eaten.’

‘It is a shame, yes,’ Terzo shifts uncomfortably in his seat. ‘You know we weren’t allowed to keep anything from before.’ You look at Primo but he is staring down at his plate in defeat.

‘For what it is worth I am sorry ragazzi,’ He squeezes Secondos forearm and offers Terzo a sad smile. You feel like an intruder in this moment and as your eyes meet Copia’s you think he might feel the same. That is until you notice him tilting his head and looking at you deep in thought. You suspect piecing together the translations you asked him to look at with the conversation he had just heard. He takes in a breath looking like he is about to speak but you shake your head as subtly as you can until he clicks his mouth closed. That is a conversation for later.

‘Sorella, thank you for allowing us to share in your exquisite food,’ Primo says, drawing a line under the conversation that had just ended.

‘It is no problem at all Papa.’ You start to gather up the dishes, wishing you had brought another tray so you could give Primo back his basket.

‘No no, leave the tidying to us please,’ he fusses, taking the pile of plates from your hands and handing them to a disgruntled Secondo. ‘Seeing how you convinced Terzo to actually come outside, why don’t you two go for a walk.’ There is a twinkle in his eye you are sure you have seen before. If the two of you hadn’t been so careful you might think he knew there was something between you.

‘What do you say Papa?’ You feel like you finally have permission to properly look at him, and he looks breathtakingly handsome in the warm sun. ‘Shall we go for a walk?’

‘If it gets us out of doing dishes then I am in,’ he says, almost jumping up from his chair.

‘It was good to see you Terzo,’ Primo says to him so softly it could have been missed.

‘It was good to see you all too,’ he matches Primo’s tone looking at all three of the men still sitting at the table for a moment more before turning to you with a dazzling smile. ‘Come now Sorella lets escape while we still can.’

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

The dressing you add last right at the point of serving. The jar has one last good shake before you remove the lid and pour it evenly over the whole salad. For some extra flair you start pouring at the centre and swirl until all the dressing is used.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

‘So that went well right?’ You are some way away from the patio so you risk moving closer, brushing your shoulders together but he doesn’t hesitate taking your hand in his.

‘Ah I suppose those nosey stronzos,’ he grumbles but there is no real bite to it, a reluctant smile pulling at the corner of his lips.

‘You know what I think?’ He only hums absentmindedly in reply, eyes following a butterfly as it dances amongst the flowers. ‘I think they missed you.’ He tips his head towards you giving you what you suspect is supposed to be an intimidating side eye but it misses its mark entirely when all you can see is the soft affection in his eyes and the sun shining off the silver grey strands running through his hair. ‘And I think you missed them too.’

‘Bah,’ he gestures with his free hand picking up his pace as if to storm off but keeping his grip firm on you so you are forced to come with him. ‘Think you know me so well eh cara?’ It is a challenge but a playful one. There was a moment that you worried that the teasing and prodding of his brothers might have made him withdraw again but it seems that was not the case. ‘Let us see, where in this garden do you think is my favourite place?’ He stops in the middle of the path reeling you back towards him but he drops your hand to fold his arms over his chest. He thinks he has stumped you, you can tell by the smug look he is failing to conceal but you are certain you know the answer.

‘Do I get any clues?’ You ask. He thinks for a moment, tapping at the dimple of his chin.

‘It is the reason I insisted on the rooms I have.’ Maybe he thinks he is being cryptic but now you know for sure, but you don’t want to let on quite yet.

‘Ok so it is near your quarters.’ You affect a look of exaggerated deep thought and he grins at you, glad that you are playing along. Wandering slightly away from him you look about you as if looking for more clues all the while ignoring his suppressed chuckles. When the two of you spend time in his little kitchen, especially now, you spend most of your time stealing looks at one another. So often he has caught him watching you over the rim of his coffee mug except from when his attention is caught just outside his window. Which not only gave you the chance to admire him as you so enjoy doing, but it also gave you a very good idea about his favourite part of the garden. Just in view of his window was a sculptural fountain depicting the Temptation of Eve.

‘Mmmm you are getting warm,’ he teases as you start to lead him back towards that part of the Abbey.

‘Anything else?’ You are just about to enter the walled garden when he catches up to you. He slides his arm around your waist and pulls you back against him and then lifts your hand to press a kiss to the back.

‘It’s almost as lovely to look at as you,’ he whispers in your ear. You have to try to suppress the shivers that work your way down your spine but he is pressed so close you are sure he can feel it.

‘Charmer,’ you chide, stepping away towards the centre of the square. ‘Stop trying to distract me.’ He reels you back in until he can rest his chin on your shoulder. The fountain dominates the space, the nude figure intertwined with the vicious looking serpent while holding a perfect apple, poised to take a bite.

‘You can see the fountain from the kitchen,’ you state matter of fact. You can see the very window from where you are standing visible amongst the trailing plants that climb the Abbey walls.

‘Si and from my bedroom.’ He points towards the larger window at the end of the building as you try to orient the layout in your mind.

‘Oh it’s like that is it,’ you tease.

‘Hush I am trying to be sincere,’ he chides but there is no bite to it, not when he skims a kiss against your cheek.

‘My apologies Papa.’ He clears his throat, the sound jarring in your otherwise soft conversation. ‘Terzo,’ you correct yourself. Happy now he nudges you forward until you are both standing at the edge of the splash pool and you watch for a moment, the ripples overlapping the reflection of the two of you in the water.

‘Tell me cara mia, what brought you to this life?’ He leads you towards a bench carved into the wall surrounding this part of the garden, helping you to sit comfortably before taking a seat himself.

‘To the Church of Satan you mean?’ It has been a long time since you thought of your life before the Ministry.

‘Mmm,’ he hums, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

‘I was raised in the Christian Church,’ you begin. ‘For the first say fifteen years of my life that is all I knew. As I got older though I found myself questioning. Everything I wanted went against what I was taught and I just couldn’t understand why all these arbitrary rules were put in place to stop people being themselves.’ He nods along giving you his full attention.

‘The arguments I had with my parents when I told them I wanted to go to culinary school, well it’s laughable now but I felt like my life was ending before it had even started. They were talking about me getting married and starting a family when all I wanted to do was learn and travel and live.’ Remembering that time fills you with that same frustration. They never were able to give you an answer other than it was God’s will and that was not enough for your questioning mind.

‘So I left. I did everything I wanted to do and then one day I was working at a festival.’ He snorts, interrupting you for the first time.

‘I can’t imagine you in a burger van,’ he sniggers to himself. You knock his shoulder with yours but that only makes him laugh harder.

‘I was cooking for the VIP guests, thank you very much!’ You reply haughtily. In all honesty there was nothing wrong with working in a burger van, good food is good food, but you dread to think what mental image he has conjured up of you. ‘And that's where I saw Ghost for the first time and spoke to Papa Primo.’

‘Primo recruited you?’ He looks shocked and you are surprised he didn’t already know.

‘Well I think it was more like I volunteered and he accepted,’ you explain. ‘He had requested some wacky off menu dish and I somehow managed to make something passable and he came to thank me. I joked about his costume and how I might consider joining if I ever found a real Church of Satan.’

‘And he told you about this place.’ he says thoughtfully.

‘He did! I didn’t believe him at first but I came to visit first for a week or two, but it was like as soon as I walked in the doors it felt like I had found my place.’ You had felt at home for the first time in a long long time.

‘What about your parents?’ He asks. ‘What do they think about you coming here?’

‘It took them a long long time to accept me straying from the life they wanted for me, even though they still don’t like it.’ They had only really accepted it when you had found success which always seemed ironic to you. ‘My being here? We just don’t speak of it. I’m sure they told all their church friends that I decided to join an obscure convent.’ It was a game you liked to play every now and then, wondering what they said when people at their church asked after you.

‘Ha! But here you are getting seduced by Satanic Popes,’ he lifts his eyebrows, clearly proud of his success in corrupting you from your fictional convent.

‘I wouldn’t have it any other way.’ You roll your eyes at him but you are relieved that he joined you in finding humour in your strained relationship with your family. But it was his turn to share. ‘Now tell me why this is your favourite place.’

‘I used to come here when I felt lost.’ He looks down at his feet kicking at some lose stones. ‘When you have lost your way there is no one better than the Mother of Sin to help you remember what is important.’ It is a lot for him to admit given his leading role in the church. Many wouldn’t ever believe a man in his position could have ever had doubts.

‘The bible says she was tricked into eating the apple, that her weak feminine mind was so easily warped by the serpent. But I think she made a choice. Perhaps she realised that if you are threatened and scared into ignorance you will never be free and that people deserve to choose for themselves what to do and what to believe.’ You sense his beliefs are as personal as they are philosophical. ‘Especially when so many things that bring people joy are supposed sins.’

You are reminded of sitting in the chapel and listening to him preach every word reaffirming your faith. He was an incredible leader and it makes your heart ache for him that he was removed from that position in such a humiliating way. You don’t voice this though. You have no doubt that these very same thoughts plague him but he is doing so much better now then when you had first properly met.

‘Enough preaching for one day though I think,’ he laughs trailing off when he realises how long he has been talking and as much as you would happily listen to him talk for hours you let him leave the topic aside. ‘Where is your favourite place in the garden cara mia?’

‘Well that is easy.’ You don’t need to think for even a moment. ‘It’s the moon garden.’ He tilts his head in surprise. ‘I didn’t appreciate it at first, having all white flowers made no sense to me. One of the most beautiful things about flowers is the vivid rainbow of colours. But then one night I was leaving your quarters and I was on the verge of going to Primo and telling him I couldn’t do it.’ You remember that time well even though so much has changed since. Having to fight the urge to quit every time he rejected another meal. ‘You hadn’t eaten a thing and I was so upset with myself.

‘I owe you an apology, I think for being so difficult.’ He mumbles but the last thing you want to do is make him feel bad.

‘No I mean you had your reasons,’ you say trying to reassure him.

‘Maybe I did, I felt that I had nothing to live for I suppose.’ It hurts to hear but it isn’t a surprise that that is how he had felt. ‘But I could only stomach so much self pity before I got hungry.’ He winks at you and even this serious conversation doesn’t stop your instinctive blush spreading across your cheeks. 'Thank you for being patient with me.’ He follows the bloom of colour across your face with the tip of his fingers, his sincerity only making it worse.

‘It was worth it,’ you admit, lowering your voice to match his soft tone. ‘Something told me I should walk through the gardens that night so I did and then it was like I had walked into another world. Every single white flower was glowing in the moonlight and I had to just sit and eventually I knew that everything was going to be alright.’

‘And was it?’ His hand cups your face and even such an innocent touch has your heart racing as you work up the courage to say what you wish to.

‘The next day was the day you left me the recipe book.’ The moment feels fragile as he looks into your eyes searchingly. It feels good to have cleared the air of so many of your unspoken things. It’s probably inadvisable to allow him this close outside of his quarters but he looks as vulnerable as you feel right now and there is only one thing you can think to do. This kiss reminds you of the first time in the kitchen. The simple action of pressing your lips to his feels so intimate and for you at least, saying things you are far from ready to speak out loud.

• • • • • • • • • ✦ • • • • • • • • • •

Hi hello yes it is me actually updating. Please no one die of shock. I had about 1000 words of this sitting here for the last six months and then suddenly I managed to write it all in the last three days. I want to promise there won't be another six months until the next chapter but who knows what will happen to my brain. Thank you to @ghostchems and @da-rulah for letting me talk about this endlessly and @writingjourney for cheering me on even when I wouldn't tell her any spoilers haha

I hope you all enjoyed and I will be starting a tag list over again because I have no idea who might even want to read this fic anymore so please just let me know if you want to be tagged in the future chapters 💜💜💜

#papa emeritus iii x reader #terzo x reader #the band ghost fic #the band ghost fanfic #terzo #papa emeritus iii #my writing #banchetto

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calisources · 1 year ago

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IN LOVE AND WAR, EVERYTHING GOES. a sentence meme based around the subject of allies, enemies, war and enemies to lovers and more of the same tropes we all love. change pronouns, names and locations as you see fit. these are all scrambled around.

“Friends ask you questions; enemies question you.”

“You can live safe and be protected by people just like you, or you can stand up and be a leader for what is right.”

“Where do we find allies?"

“War created bizarre allies, while peace itself could be divisive.”

“I promise you, nothing will happen to you.”

“I choose my allies carefully and my enemies more carefully still.”

“People fight wars over ideas.”

“Wars begin when you will, but they do not end when you please.”

“I was raised in hatred, Roma. I could never be your lover, only your killer.”

“We were enemies, no matter the truths. No matter that I loved him.”

“He’d set fire to the world around him but never let a flame touch her.”

“She's not the type to swoon for pretty lies.”

“The feud keeps taking and hurting and killing and still I couldn't stop loving you even when I thought I hated you.”

“These violent delights have violent ends."

“Men without morals are dangerous beasts.”

“The spiteful, little stars.”

“Death is real. Death is inevitable. Death comes when you're not ready for it. Be ready.”

“I was alive, but I wasn’t living. You took things from me. My soul―my heart.”

“You’re supposed to keep your enemies close. Therefore, it stands to reason that your sworn enemy should be kept closest.”

“When will you see I'm not your enemy, but your weapon. Wield me.”

“Can’t even get out of my grasp? Or is it because you secretly don’t want to?”

“Why are you confessing all of your crimes?”Are you trying to get hit?”

“You're a hero and I'm a monster. There's only one way that story ever ends.”

"Tell me you came to find me. That you changed your mind."

"How--how can you even say such things,on an evening you are meant to choose another as your bride?"

"My sweet nemesis, how glad I am that you returned."

"I hate you so much that sometimes I can't think of anything else.”

“The road for hell for me is paved with everything I would do for you, and that list never ends.”

“You have consumed my thoughts since the moment I met you."

“You have no idea what I could give you."

“If you mean to take me captive, you need only ask. I would come willingly.”

“I see you truly for everything you are and everything you will be and I claim you as mine.”

“I don't think I've ever met anyone as vexing as you."

“Always forgive your enemies; nothing annoys them so much.”

“A wise man gets more use from his enemies than a fool from his friends.”

"We're on opposite sides, you know."

"You're the one claiming we're all villains. There's no black or white, only gray area. We can coexist somewhere in the middle, can't we?”

“A man with no enemies is a man with no character.”

“I smile to myself knowing that they may be dead.”

“I like your savage brutality."

"That's a poetic observation, coming from such a savage creature.”

"And you are mine, Victor Nox. whether you agree is irrelevant.”

“Bitter people are not interested in what you say, but what you hide.”

“Enemies can't break your spirit, only friends can.”

“In order to know your enemy, you must become your enemy.”

“Such a pretty face, but so weak and emotional. Just a regular man, after all.”

#rp meme #sentence #sentences memes #sentence meme #rp resources #rp prompt #prompts #writing prompts #roleplay memes #roleplay meme

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4milly · 2 years ago

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Beg. Sequel to Soap. |r.r|

(a/n) real fast. i wanna say thank you so much for all the love you’ve given me over my last 4 writings. it means the world to me absolutely. milly loves you. <3.

sometimes, it’s just too good to not come back for more. Sequel of Soap. Completely inspired and credited to @itjazzbicch ‘Cheiftess’ Series.

warnings: smut, choking kink, unprotected sex (milly does not support this message. wrap it up.), enemies to…official sneaky links??), face DOWNNN ass UPPP, poor use of present and past tense,

parings: enemy!roman x black!reader

word count: 4.3K…never say i never gave y’all anything.

(tags: @fame-ass-ers @squishyguishy @vebner37 @smuts-whore @southerngirl41 @msbigredmachine)

*takes place 2 months after Roman Reigns Vs. Kevin Owens Feud 2021*

“Ladies and gentlemen, Daniel Bryan.” You smiled as the camera panned to the man next to you

You’ve known Daniel for a long time now. You were absolutely over the moon at his return to WWE. Behind the scenes, given your friendship with Brie and Nicole, you knew how hard he worked to make it back. It was something you admired about him.

“Y/N! How are you?” He enthusiastically responded to you

“I’m great! How are you doing? How are you feeling ahead of your triple threat match against Roman Reigns and Edge?”

“I’m feeling amazing! Absolutely over the moon! It’s going to be amazi—“

Daniel trailed off as a man appeared next to us. You turned as a certain short, obnoxious, man appeared next to you both.

“Daniel! Y/N! How are you guys doing on this fine evening?” Paul Heyman sarcastically asked

“Paul…hello.” You responded with a lack in your tone

You just knew this was a ‘special’ impromptu visit from Roman. He had his ways like that. Being around even when he wasn’t. It caused you to internally roll your eyes at the sneak attack.

“Did the Tribal Chief know this interview was going to be done?” He asked with a shit eating grin on his face.

“I don’t report back to you or him; thank you, Paul. Now, Daniel, do you think that on the grandest stage of them all, you can pull off such a performance? You and Roma—“

“The Tribal Chie—“

“Would you like to go back to your Daddy so I can finish my job?” You spat, cutting off Paul. “Wherever you end up, Brock Lesnar's locker room or Roman Reigns.”

“I—I—I have no clue what you are referring to. I do not w-w-work for Brock Lesnar anymore. Ms. Y/N, I am merely just trying to—“

“Thank you, Paul.” You grit your teeth as the cameras cut

You toss a sincere look to Daniel and give him a small side hug before turning to the man who quickly became a nuisance, “Listen. I don’t give a damn! I don’t care if you work for Brock, Roman, or Joe fucking Biden. You do not interrupt my job performance. And I know he sent you here on some possessive shit, trying to get a rise out of me. It’s written all over your fucking face. Move!”

You shove Paul out of your way, leaving him stunned in the middle of the hall. You went quickly to find Roman. Fighting against every nerve in your head telling you to turn around. After that small, impromptu meeting in the showers two months ago, you did all you could to stay away from him. Even not becoming his regular interviewer anymore. The last thing you needed was to be fuckbuddies with the man that Roman Reigns is. You could basically kiss your job goodbye if you knew it.

But, he just couldn’t seem to stay away from you. Everytime you turned around, it was like he’d be right there waiting for you. Causing more smart mouthed spats in the middle of the hallway. Anytime you both collided, you both would bicker. You’d think you and him were an old married couple. The majority of it wasn’t an act. Roman did get a rise out of you. He walked the earth with his third leg as if he controlled everyone around him, and they had to kiss the ground he walked on. He was still an asshole. After his initial thought that you’d come begging him for dick, you knew you had to prove him wrong. You didn’t need him. Not for sex…earth shaking sex. No matter how badly you wanted to call him to break you off again.

Your studded black boots clicked on the floor with every determined stride to his locker room. Before you got the chance to bang on it, as intended, it flew open with the 6’3 Samoan smirking down at you.

Roman knew he pissed you off. He knew ever trick in the damn book, on what would make your blood pressure rise. Hell, he wrote the book himself. You weren’t going to admit yourself, how much you wanted him? Fine. But he had plans to make you pay for that shit.

‘Oh, I’ll give him something to smirk about.’

“Who in the hell do you think you fucking are? You got Paul as my bodyguard now?” You snarl into his face, your heels giving you extra height to match him up

“Oh, please. What are you doing interviewing, Bryan? Hm? Answer me that first, baby girl.” He raises an eyebrow

“You have zero authority over me and whoever the hell I interview. You might be asskissing Vince, but your name isn’t anywhere near my checks. You don’t own me!”

“That’s not how I recall the story, Very…very far from it actually. Would you like a reminder?” He dropped his voice an octave deeper and smirked, leaning forward, “Remember, all you have to do is ask.”

“Why don't, instead, you go find where Paul is? We all know how quick he is to drop to his knees with a knife in your back at the reigning! Oh, so defen—”

“You think you're so fucking funny. Huh? I got a joke for you, go tell McIntyre how badly you turn cock drunk when you’re being pounded. How all it takes is for my cock to run over that bundle of nerves inside of you for you to gush down my clock like the whore you are?” Roman grits his teeth with his face mere centimeters from yours; pure agitation on his face at your mention of Brock Lesnar.

The last few weeks, you’ve been cautiously talking to a certain 6’5 Scottish man more and more. Drew was amazing. He treated you well—a sweetheart, if you must say. Movie dates, dinner dates, makeout sessions. Although you’d been holding out on him. Many times Drew slid his hand under your shirt, or would squeeze your backside. You’d always pull away and call it a night. Drew was attractive. Three months ago, you’d allow him a taste of you. Hell why not? He was attractive, strong, tall. But two months ago, you had sex with Roman. Absently, closing you off for any other guy. Admit it or not, it was amazing.

More than once, you’d catch yourself taking a warm, vanilla scented bubble bath, sliding your hand over your stomach, and heading down south…

You circled that small bundle of nerves before moving lower and sliding a finger in. Instinctively, your pussy welcomed your small finger and clenched around it. You threw your head back and sinked lower into the bathtub. Imagining it was Roman behind you, playing with your pussy. Your moans echoed into the bathroom as you worked yourself. Even while Roman wasn’t here, you could hear his voice in the back of your head. Coaxing you, bringing you closer to your orgasm.

“Slide in one more, babygirl…make her wetter for me.” He whispers into your mind.

“Romannnn!” You cry out in a whine as your orgasm squirts into the palm of your hand.

Your eyes opened as your chest raised up and down heavily.

Those nights happened more than once. You knew you were deeply involved with Roman. More than you wanted.

The mixed emotions weren’t helping. Roman tapped dance on the last nerve in your body. All over it, with a full dance routine. Why did you want him so badly, again?

“How about I have that same conversation with Paul? You and him spend an awful lot of time locked inside that room. Do me a favor, Roman. Stay the hell away from me, and for once, look in a mirror. I don’t give a damn about what titles you have or how many you have. You’re still a whiny ass crybaby. Bite me.” With that, you exhaled a sigh and turned on your heels to walk away with a small movement in your hips. You knew his gaze would be on your backside as you walked away

You’d be lying if you said the thought of calling him for another satisfied fuck didn’t occur to you. Every night when you laid awake using different toys or your hands, you threatened to grab your phone to call him. But you couldn’t. He’d have the upper hand. He’d know the control he possessed over your body. And damn, he had that hold on you good.

You straddled Drew’s waist as you both engaged into a heated make out session. Your tongue sliding back and forth against his as you both let out small groans and moans. What started as being in his hotel room watching a movie turned into becoming distracted by the soft kisses Drew placed on your neck. He makes a low growl sound from the middle of his chest as your fingers slide into his hair

“You're so beautiful, you know that?” Drew mumbles against your lips as his hands glides over your ass and hips, adoring the feeling of how big and round it felt in your hands.

You felt his hands slide over the front of your jeans, fingering with the button there, causing you to draw away from him, “I think we should call it a night. It’s getting late. And you know how Vince feels about being late.” You joke breathlessly at a dazed and confused Drew. You quickly stand to fix your clothes and grab your phone off the table.

“What’s up with you lately?”

You felt your heart sink with a small amount of guilt as you turned around to see Drew’s face adorned with embarrassment.

“Why would you ask me that?”

“You just…don’t seem as into this as I am.”

You felt a slight bit offended at his question. He thought you weren’t into this because of what? You wouldn’t have sex with him? “I have to have sex with you to be into this?”

“C’mon, I’m not fucking stupid. You barely even speak to me at the arenas, anytime we’re alone you keep checking your phone, and all I get is a few pecks and your ready to run for the fuckin’ hills.”

“Look. I don’t want people in my business. What’s the first thing you think people will ask if they see us together?”

“Who's gonna see us? Heyman? You don’t want him to spill to Roman you’re hanging around me?” Drew stands over you, his eyes wide with an evil look behind them. You’d think you were his enemy.

Your eyes nearly bulge out your head at Drew’s mention of Roman. Of course that night in the showers, everyone was gone. No one knew about your rendezvous, “Everyone sees you and him always arguing in the halls. So it’s two things. You’re either scared of him or fucking him.” He snarls

Drew’s face snapped to the side as you raised your hand back and slapped the taste from his mouth. Before you could make another strike you decided it would be best to just leave, throwing a glare at him as you walked past him. You couldn’t really be mad he guessed you slept you Roman. But you belonged to neither man. Drew had no right to insulate he owned you of some sort. If you didn’t want to have sex with him, he didn’t deserve a reason.

You quickly grabbed your things and walked away from Drew, straight out his hotel room. You felt yourself become overwhelmed at the thought of seeing Roman. His suite was on this floor in the far corner of the hall.

What if I knocked?

You brushed off your sexual urges as you headed towards the elevator to go down to your floor. You worked yourself into even deeper trouble. Drew had a few friends around the business and of course, he’d tell them how he couldn’t get you into bed. You could practically hear the “stuck up bitch” being thrown out to you already. Not mixing business with pleasure was now crossed into your new agenda permanently, you even made a mental note to create a tinder account.

You felt pathetic. How could you want someone who treated the rest of the world like shit? He didn’t even say please and thank you. You worked hard at resisting him, but that wall was slowly being bulldozed.

On cue, As you drifted into your own thoughts, the elevator dinged bringing you back into your consciousness. Just your damn luck, the pleasure stepped out the elevator blocking your entry.

“You came to deliver my message to your little boyfriend?” Roman smirks again, feeling accomplished.

Your eyes quickly glance over his body as you notice the black leather jacket, white tank top, black pants, and Jordan’s. You let out a huff as you move to the side to go around him before he steps in the same direction, “What the hell is your problem?” You questioned placing your hands over your hips letting out a sigh

“My problem? What’s yours? Why fight what you and I both know you want?” He asks stepping closer to you, sizing you up

You let out a snort with a roll of your eyes. This man was way too proud of himself. “Don’t boost your ego anymore than it is. Your head might just explode.”

“Fuckin’ admit it. You want me to break you off again. Give into you, but you’re in for a rude awakening. One thing people don’t do is lie to my face. Me and you both know right now, your pussy is dripping into those panties. Begging for me to make her submit to my every will. So do you, don’t you? You want that, don’tchu? To feel my cock stretching you out the way those fingers can’t? We both want it, and you know that. And that little boyfriend of yours? All of you belongs to me. Get that. Do you understand me?” He taunts, his face looming down over yours, his eyes thick with lust.

For the first time, since meeting Roman, you were quiet. You were stunned at his honesty. Your mouth felt dry at the thought of belonging to Roman. As much as you wanted to punch him dead in his jaw, who were you trying to convince? You wanted to feel him inside of you again. What happened in the showers would be just a mere rushed fuck. You wanted him to make you his.

“Now are you done acting like a little ass child? Be an adult and use your words. Tell me you want me, baby girl. Anytime you want some dick, just as-”

As if you were being hypnotized by his words, “I want you.” flew right out your mouth and onto his as you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to your frame.

You could feel the white light behind your eyes bust, knowing you reached a moment of no return. There was no going back. Roman lowered his hands to your ass, squeezing it tightly, pulling you flush to his body. The kiss was hungry, he was rewarding you for your honesty by biting your bottom lip repeatedly. Your tongue explored his mouth as he slipped his own between your lips. The warm feeling in his chest erupted as his current wildest dream was about to come true.

Once again.

Romans hands slid downwards to the crease of your ass and your thighs, proceeding to lift you up allowing you to wrap your hands around his waist. You briefly wondered if he could hear your heart beating at a rapid pace. Your nerves were all over the place. This time was different. You felt more exposed at admitting you wanted to be his.

Roman opened the door to his suite, walking towards his bedroom. You let out a sequel as he threw you onto the middle of his bed. His eyes were dark and hungry. Before you could have a moment to change your mind, he silenced you with another kiss.

Whatever you were about to say didn’t matter, bitchy remarks or not, was the last thing on his mind. Roman wrapped his hands around your ankle, yanking you down the bed closer to his body.

“Take these off,” He growls out to you, tugging at your pants

With a little aid from yourself, you lift your hips to allow him to pull them off, revealing your hot pink lace underwear. You could see a snarl form on Romans face, remembering how just an hour ago you were with Drew.

Roman kneels onto the bed, covering your body with his as he smashes his lips onto yours. His hand ghosted slowly towards Your warm and wet heat. You parted your legs, slightly, giving his fingers the space they needed to explore your warmth and wetness covered by lace.

“Mmmm,” You sighed into his mouth, as his slipped his hand into the hand of your panties circling your clit

“Shut up.” He grumbles back

He slid his index and middle fingers into your pussy. You felt your breath hitch inside of your throat as he moved his fingers in and out picking up pace. You reached down to grip his wrist, attempting to brace yourself from being overheated with pleasure. Rather quickly, you felt your belly tighten with a small amount of pressure. Roman felt you clamp down on his fingers,

“Let go,” he whispers into your mouth. You began squirming, unable to remain still as pleasure hit your body in waves, nearly consuming you. Your lower half worked against the strokes of his fingers; riding them into oblivion.

“Ahhhh! Oh my God. Please,” You cried out, squeezing your eyelids together.

You briefly closed your eyes, gathering yourself from your clouded thoughts. You felt the bed dip, as Roman stood to his full height. You lay back into your elbows as you watched him undress himself.

“The next time you ever mention Lesnar or McIntyre to my fuckin’ face you’ll regret it. If I ever see you near him again, I’m going to make sure he knows personally who you belong to. You understand?” He grits out lowering his boxers, letting his girthy and long cock spring against his abdomen

You decided to test him a little bit and raise your legs to your chest, closing them, his view of your panty covered pussy now gone. “But I like McIntyre. We were jus—Shit!” You squeal as Roman pounces onto the bed, slapping the side of your plush thigh roughly, marveling at the jiggle it created.

“Y’wanna finish that sentence? You think you’re in charge, but I'm calling the shots tonight. Turn the fuck over.”

Roman growls, not giving you the chance to turn over yourself, and grabs your hips in a grip before flipping you over and pushing you into a deep arch with your face flush into the bed. Roman catches you spreading your legs a bit more causing him to chuckle, “Slide back onto me. You want it so bad, let me see you fuck yourself.”

You let out a moan as you feel the tip of Romans cock make contact with the entrance of your pussy. You push back, with a bit of force till the head of Romans cock makes its way inside your pussy. Getting impatient, Roman grabs your plush hips and pulls out. Letting out an impatient whine, you felt a chill down your spine as he licked a stripe up your pussy. He then surges forward pushing in his entire length in one move.

“Ah!” You gasped “Wait, fuc—“

“Nah, remember all that shit you were saying. You’re taking all of me tonight. Don’t you dare run from me either.”

Roman teased you with slow, deep strokes at first, before speeding up his pace. You turned your head into the mattress letting out screams.

He reached up grabbing your hair into a tight grip, pulling your head up, “Nah, let the whole floor know who’s fucking you right now.”

“You’re so fuckin—“

“Big?” Roman chuckles in a deep voice

“Conceited, Ugh!” You squeal, clawing at the sheets as his big and rough hand cracks on your ass.

“But whose pussy is creaming around me? Yeah? Look at her, swallowing this dick. Her dick. She knows who she belongs to, doesn’t she baby? Talk to me.” He praised, spreading your ass cheeks to watch your wetness coat his cock.

While you could feel your heart swell at the comment, him being yours, it served the same meaning for Roman. It fueled Romans ego more, at the squelching wet noises your pussy was making for him as he fucked you into the mattress.

You only got this way for him. He only got this way for you.

Yeah, you definitely can’t let him go now.

You let out a mewl as his thickness stretched you out, creating both pain and pleasure. That same familiar vein rubbing against your spot, “Ohh! Fuck, yes! I belon–I belong to you! It’s your pussy!” You moaned louder as the headboard began to slam against the walls as he fucked you faster.

You pushed your ass backwards and began throwing your ass back against his hips. Why did you do that?

He chuckled. “You throwing that ass back like a big girl, baby? You gon’ take this dick like one too.” Without waiting for you to respond, he deepened his strokes and picked up his pace.

“Ooh, shit!” You moaned, gripping the comforter. He was so deep in you, that you felt like he was fucking your heart. Feeling the coil in your belly, you clenched your muscles around his cock.

“You wanna show out, huh?” A deep growl escaped his throat. “I got something for your ass.” He announced before really starting to fuck you. I was talking about pulling out and sliding back in, fucking you. Your nails nearly drew rips into the sheets. Your pussy creating a slippery mess, letting him slide back in easily.

“Fuck!” You yelled, blindly reaching behind him to push at his abdomen, to give you a moment to catch your breath.

“What did I say? You’re taking all of me. I told you not to run, baby girl. Don’t act like you can’t take it. What about all that shit at the arena earlier, hm?” he said, grabbing your hands and pinning them against your lower back. He propped his foot up on the bed, and used your bounded arms to bring you against him to meet your thrust.

“Shit, Roman! Fuck! Make me take it!” You cried in pleasure.

There was no way Drew was ever getting a text back, a call back…shit an email. Especially, if he didn’t hear you practically calling out to god as Roman was engraving himself on you.

Roman hissed as he felt your pussy contract, creating a second skin for him. He knew you were close, and he wasn’t far behind himself, “Y’gonna cum for me, baby? My good girl. Cum all over me baby. Let me see it.”

“Mmmm, yesssss!” You moaned, throwing your head towards the ceiling. “Fuck… I’m cumming…Romannnn!” Your orgasm ripped through you—releasing a wave of wet heat all over Roman’s cock.

Roman’s spine shook as he felt your pussy tighten around him, keep him in, as you gushed all over his cock—warm wet heat circling around him. Tears coated your cheeks, as your orgasm ripped through you making your entire body convulse as you babbled incoherent words. Roman let out a roar as his own orgasm rushed to the core, deep and filling up your pussy, mixing your juices together, “Shit! Fuck yeah, baby!” His voice thick and heavy with rasp

You both collapsed on the bed, limbs tangled into each other, and sucking as much air as you could back into your lungs. After a brief moment, Roman raised up from the bed and disappeared into his bathroom. A few seconds later, he came out with a wet towel to clean the both of you off. You bit your lip, as the feeling of the warm towel moving against your pussy came over you.

Roman laid down next to you, his chest heaving up and down, before chucking to himself. His signature smirk coating his face.

“What?”

“Bet your ass knows better than to lie to me now. See what your little stubborn ass act denied you from?” He replies, his big dick attitude back on 10. But hell. He had the big dick to match, so.

“Do you ever get e-fucking-nough of being an asshole?”

“You spent two months running from me, getting on my fuckin’ nerves, makin’ everything 20x harder for me, fucking’ around with my money with those interviews. Whole time you wanted me to make you cum again. Stubborn ass, woman. I gotta say, the resistance act was sexy as hell.” He expresses before pulling you to him, to lay on his chest

“Don’t flatter yourself too much. It wasn’t an act, Tribal Chief.” You roll your eyes at his self centered moment of truth. Some things never change.

“Oh yeah, baby? What was it?” He questions before moving over on top of your sweaty frame

After a brief moment of eye contact, for once and for all you decided to settle it and let him win. Just this once. You raised up to place a more gentle kiss than the one you shared earlier. That was more hungry, sloppy, messy…this one was delicate, soft, tender. You wanted to tell him what you couldn’t say out loud. You pulled back and saw a look of admiration in his eyes.

“You’re mine.” Roman claims with a small smirk

“And you’re mine.” You respond back

“I’m yours.”

*please, leave me some comments, reblogs with funny stuff, and follow for more! i love interacting with u guys! send in any ask u guys have!*

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ruskaroma · 1 year ago

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ordinary, corrupt human love. | chapter 2: you get me closer to god.

Summary: John is a manipulator, and she, is the new subject of his obsession.

Warnings: this chapter contains stalking, mentions of large age gap, graphic descriptions of violence, and manipulation.

read the warnings. john is not only a menace, he is evilllll.

Author’s note: and we are back, baby. today, in this chapter, you are going to be witnessing a LOT of fucked up shit from none other than john wick himself. my man’s been doing a lot, god bless his poor soul.

also may i remind you all that the reader here is naive! she is stupid! she is not the brightest! she’s just desperate for attention and affection, so her decisions are always stupid and all of that. (please do not hate her, she is trying her best.)

this took me a while to write because it’s long asf and also because you know me, i always struggle with the english language, but i hope i won’t disappoint you with this chapter!

thank you so much for waiting and continuing to support this fic! really, it gives me a lot of motivation to keep writing, and i really appreciate all your sweet comments and reblogs on my last post.

i hope you also enjoy this new chapter since we’re going to have another peak of what goes on in john’s dark, dark mind. (I PROMISE THE SEX SCENE WOULD BE IN THE NEXT CHAPTER.)

and again, this is not edited so all mistakes are on me! i really do apologize, english is not my first language.

Word count: 10.6k

also read on AO3

In this business, you’d see different kinds of reactions when a man walks into a room.

They all see themselves above everybody else. They think they’re better, deadlier, smarter. That’s the kind of mindset you need if you want to survive. How will you get out of being held at gunpoint when you’re a weakling?

When a man walks into a room, they’ll take a moment to stare.

On the outside, you’d think these people have a lot of respect for one another since they all work in the same circle anyway. But in real life, you’d see the blatant lack of respect these people truly have for each other, because they’ll stare and judge.

When John walks into a room, it’s a different story.

Fear.

John is not like any other man in business they think they could just judge and get away with it, no. John is well respected and feared. He could see it in their eyes when he pass by. The extreme discomfort and alarm to be in the same presence as him. Even if they try so hard to hide it, John sees right through them.

They view him as… something but human. He’s a killing machine. An attack dog. A monster, some would even say.

Back in the days, John wasn’t exactly fond of the names they’ve been giving him. When he was still new in the game, he didn’t like how he struck fear over these people because he wasn’t quite sure how to handle the power he truly has over them.

But now, something has shifted.

John is a free man. Not the kind of free when he was with Helen, but free nonetheless. Free because instead of getting alarmed with the fact that he’s feared all over this underworld, he’s taking advantage of it. Much to the higher ups dismay. They have been having a very hard time keeping up with his recent activities.

Growing up, it seemed like John got the worst sadistic discipline in Ruska Roma.

All of them did, don’t get him wrong. All of them suffered – blood, sweat and tears. They were all forced to go through extreme discipline, because it’s the crack of the whip that gets the rats going.

But John… John got the worst of it.

He used to take the fall for his fellow students. Fingers couldn’t count just how many times he was belted on the back for someone else’s mistake. The amount of times he was starved, denied of any kind of food or water, and that’s how it’s always been.

John has always been denied for the things he wanted. The things he needed.

Now, he is not greedy. He’s not just going to take everything in his way like a kid that got away from its parents’ grip, because he doesn’t want a lot of things. John already has a house, a dog companion, enough money to last forever.

John already has everything except her.

His most happy moments couldn’t compete with the hot curl within his guts that he feels every time his mind flashes back to that night. That night when she gave in, when she gave herself away to him – willingly.

John didn’t need to give her a little push to finally get her. She practically offered herself to him, bared her neck and John’s itching to take a bite. To finally make her his once and for all, but really, he doesn’t need to do that to know that she’s his.

Like he said, he’s not going to force himself into her life. He’s going to be welcomed. By the looks of it, it seems like it wouldn’t be such a hard thing to do after all. Not when she’s already giving up information about herself to John through texts – she’s practically making it easy for him to get her.

So naive. Doesn’t got a fucking clue in the world.

Mine. Mine. Mine. Fucking mine –

John looks at his phone, reading the messages both of them sent each other the night before, and there it is again. The itch in his hands, the need to possess.

13.06.15 11:46 PM

Bambi: hello! this is Y/N from the club the other night

13.06.15 11:46 PM

Bambi: also that Y/N who returned your super expensive looking coin hehe ;) i hope you didn’t forget about me!

John changed her name on his phone. He changed it to something more… intimate. More sweet.

13.06.15 11:48 PM

John : I could never.

13.06.15 11:48 PM

John : You’re hard to forget.

He remembers – no, saw – how she responded. With a smile on her face, hopeful.

13.06.15 11:49 PM

Bambi : using my words against me, i see :D

13.06.15 11:49 PM

Bambi : good to know you’re still as slick as the last time we chatted haha

13.06.15 11:49 PM

John : Hard not to. I wanted to impress you.

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : you already did.

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : with all your brooding and intimidating look. just my type ;D

John smiles to himself as he reads the message. He remembers the look on her face when she’s typing, and hasn't got a clue that the man she’s flirting with was observing her just from across her building. John wouldn’t call it invading her privacy, he calls it keeping her safe.

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : anywho i asked for your number for a reason. i really do want to talk to you again. not just in chat, i mean, but also in real life :)

13.06.15 11:50 PM

Bambi : maybe we could get to know each other more? what do you say??? meet up again, but this time planned unlike our other previous meetups?? haha

He is not a teenager to be feeling this giddy over reading messages, but she truly brings out something shameful in him.

13.06.15 11:51 PM

John : I should be the one asking you that.

13.06.15 11:51 PM

Bambi : you were taking too looonggg :(

13.06.15 11:51 PM

Bambi : so what do ya think?

13.06.15 11:52 PM

John : Of course I’ll go. I told you I’d make time for you, didn’t I?

13.06.15 11:52 PM

John : I’m a man of my word.

13.06.15 11:52 PM

Bambi : ok that’s great! i was so worried you wouldn’t say yes.

John had averted his eyes from the phone that night and onto the little lady across the building. She was rolling around on her bed, still dressed in her pink, fluffy robe and her hair was still wet. She looks like a puppy that John wanted to pet; stroke her hair and tell her she’s his good girl.

13.06.15 11:52 PM

John : When do you want to meet?

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : aahhhhh let’s see

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : i have classes tomorrow morning BUTTT we can def meet up during lunch! i get out of school at like 12 and go to work at 3 :D

I know, John wanted to say. I’ve memorized your everyday schedule in the span of two days.

13.06.15 11:53 PM

John : How about I pick you up from your school, we grab lunch, and I drop you off to work?

13.06.15 11:53 PM

John : Or is it too soon?

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : oh my god no way REALLY?

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : nooo it’s not too soon don’t worry! you def could so we have more time to talk and everything! i just hope i won’t be bothering you or anything.

13.06.15 11:53 PM

Bambi : do you have work tomorrow? you look like a 9 to 5 kinda guy :P

God, she’s fucking adorable.

13.06.15 11:54 PM

John : I don’t, so you don’t have to worry. I’d love to talk to you more as well.

13.06.15 11:54 PM

Bambi : ok! i cannot wait for tomorrow. i should probably sleep now tho so i wouldn’t look shitty when you see me :D

13.06.15 11:54 PM

Bambi : here is the address of my school. [Address]

13.06.15 11:54 PM

Bambi : can’t wait to see you tomorrow, john! goodnight, see you soon! x

13.06.15 11:55 PM

John : Goodnight, sweet girl. Have a good sleep.

John hadn’t meant to type that. He felt his heart drop to his stomach, terrified that he somehow scared her away with the sudden affection. But then he saw her read his message, dropped her phone on the bed, and then rolled over again like a lap dog.

She’s too easy to tame, so gullible. John almost couldn’t believe how fast she folded, how desperate she really is. But then again, he could say the same about himself. Lonely and desperate, they were meant to be together. He likes to believe God had put them in this position because of fate, because he has a plan for every single one of us.

John’s never been the one to believe in Him, but he finds himself grasping to that very little delusion that keeps him from going insane.

11:55 AM, the students are already making their way out of their designated buildings.

John is keeping his guard on high alert, eyes scanning the crowd to find her. He’s parked just across the school gate, leaning against his car as he checks the time on his wrist. He’s also holding his phone in the other, waiting for it to vibrate in case she drops a message.

He’s never felt this giddy before. Hands clammy and eyes searching frantically, excited because he’s finally getting to spend alone time with her, but also worried in fear of losing her in the crowd. John doesn’t like it when he doesn’t have the upper hand. When he doesn’t have control of the situation. When she’s not in his line of vision and could be doing god knows what without his supervision.

He checks his phone again. 11:58, where is she?

John knows at this time, she should be out and about already, waiting for a cab to her apartment. His fingers itch, hovering over the screen of his phone. He begins contemplating if he should send a message, but that would make him look demanding and clingy. He doesn’t want to leave that kind of impression on her, or otherwise he’d have no choice but to abduct her and keep her locked away if she thinks about running –

He blinks, sucking in deep breath.

“Shit,” he whispers, looking up to the school gate again. This isn’t good. What the fuck was he even thinking?

John tries not to think about it. Tries to convince himself that he is not as fucked up as his mind is making him out to be. He wouldn’t stoop that low, he’s not that cruel –

Are you not?

A certain someone appears in the crowd, standing outside the school gate, already spotting John and waving at him from across the road. Her face is bright, smiling wide. John never wanted to possess something so bad.

He waves back, all his dark thoughts suddenly gone, and everything is rainbows and sunshine. John watches as she crosses the road carefully, looking left and right, seeming small with the people around her. She looks like a lost puppy.

John wants to pet.

“John, hey!” she beams, running up to him to give him a hug which catches John off guard. She’s on her tiptoes just to wrap her arms around his broad shoulders, and John doesn’t want to make her upset for not immediately reacting with her affection, and so he puts his arm around her waist and bends down to place his chin on her shoulder.

He fights the urge to bury his nose in her neck, then maybe sucks a few hickeys, leaving a bite mark to show that the big, bad wolf has already marked his mate.

She’s so fucking easy to get, John thinks.

When she pulls away from the hug, John tries not to look disappointed. Her cologne lingers in his nose. “Sorry. Force of habit.”

“You don’t ever need to say sorry for that,” John says, faux stern as he places a hand on her waist subtly. She looks like she doesn’t mind, that’s a good thing.

“Okay then,” she smiles politely. “Oh, and I’m sorry if I look like a mess. Just say the words and I would totally change to more appropriate clothes before we go somewhere.”

“You look beautiful,” John says smoothly, standing up straight. Even though she looks underdressed next to John who’s wearing a three-piece suit, she is still heart-wrenchingly beautiful. In fact, John likes the contrast.

“T-thanks.”

“Should we go?”

“Sure! I’m excited,” she giggles, the sound practically dancing in his ear. “I’m hungry. Where will we eat?”

“Hm, what do you like?” he asks.

“Dunno. Burger and milkshake.”

“Sounds unhealthy.”

“The only thing I can afford, unfortunately,” she jokes, though John doesn’t answer, only opening the car door for her. “We should eat in a diner. I know a good one! Also cheap, so you won’t have to worry about the price.”

“I never worry about the price, darling,” John murmurs, but still loud enough for her to hear as she gets inside the vehicle. He swiftly walks to the driver’s seat and starts the car, glancing at his little bambi who’s observing the interior intensely. “You like it?”

“It’s so cool. I’ve never been in a car like this.”

“You’re going to have a lot of firsts when you’re with me.”

As John starts driving, the girl beside him babbles. Not that he minds, of course. He listens and nods, so obsessed with her voice that he could listen to it forever. It’s amazing how John could easily hide the fact that he was just stalking her from across her apartment the night before in the back of his mind, like it never even happened. It’s amazing how he could act like he wasn’t just thinking about kidnapping her and locking her away from the public forever.

But then again, everything about his little bambi would make anyone risk it all for her. It’s not just John. Anyone would do the same if they were in his shoes.

“How was school?” John asks, averting his eyes from the road for a moment to look at her.

“Eh, it was alright. Classes always drain me, no wonder I’m so hungry now,” she answers politely. One of the few things John noticed about her. How she doesn’t run out of things to say, how she can get the conversation going. “How about you? You going to work after our lunch? You’re dressed up for it.”

“I took the day off today,” he replies vaguely.

“What? Why?”

“I have a date with you.”

She seems to be shocked by John’s choice of words, but she’s more concerned with the fact that John took the day off for her. “Y-yeah, but you didn’t have to do that. We could just go on a date next time.”

“The sooner, the better,” he explains, feeling another surge of something hot into his veins. She agreed that this is a date. Just how fucking gullible can she get? “Work is no problem for me. I want to get to know you more.”

“O-okay. I wanna get to know you more too.”

When John catches a glimpse of her bright smile beaming at him, his hands tighten around the wheel and he steps on the gas harder.

John doesn’t like how his mind isn’t making him remember about Helen.

He should be remembering her. He should feel some kind of guilt for being in a restaurant with another woman, but he doesn’t. Every single day since she died, his mind would always make him think about her. But now, it’s like John completely forgot about her existence at all.

The wedding ring on his finger is long gone. Ever since his unhealthy obsession began, he thought that wearing that while doing something so sinful felt so wrong. Helen shouldn’t have to witness all the things he had done in the name of a girl he had only met once that time.

The diner isn’t packed with people. The sizzling of the burgers grilling on the pan and the chatters seem to drown out eventually when his little bambi starts talking.

John gives her a small smile, barely there, just to show her that he’s listening, all his attention is on her.

“Time seems to pass by so fast, huh? I remember when I bumped into you the first time, I really thought I wouldn’t see you again,” she starts the conversation with a bang, but thankfully John’s prepared for this type of talk.

“So you really wanted to see me then?” he smirks slightly.

“Yeah! You’re really good looking and it’s not always I see a guy as handsome as you in my apartment complex and my school,” she says bluntly, though John could see the faint blush on her cheeks when she mentions the word ‘good looking.’ “So of course I had to take my chance when I met you again at that club! God, you were my knight in shining armor. I would’ve been crushed to death if it wasn’t for you.”

“That’s why you should always be careful on the road. You’re small, everyone could look past you if you weren’t careful enough.”

She pouts, placing her chin on her hand as she stares lovingly at John. “You’re exaggerating. I’m not small. You’re just saying that because you’re too big. And I’m always careful on the road – it was only that time that I lost balance and almost fell.”

“Then it better not happen again,” John says sharply, leaning back against the cushioned seat as he stares back at her challengingly. “But there’s no need to worry for the next time. I won’t let that happen again.”

“Next time?” she teases. “So you want to see me again next time, then?”

“Have I not made it clear with my actions and words?” John shoots back, raising another eyebrow. She likes it when he’s being stern like this. All authoritative. She might not know it yet, but her body language speaks for itself. “Do you want to see me again?”

The little bambi smiles brightly, and It hurts. It hurts John to see that smile because she’s just like the sun. But no matter how much she shines, John would do anything just to touch. Just to possess. Just to break.

“Of course! I wouldn’t have gotten your number if I didn’t, right?”

“Good.”

It’s not like she could do much anyways if she says no. Nothing will ever stop John from seeing her again, no matter how bad the procedure would be.

The food then arrives and is served on the table, and John thinks he has never felt anything like this before.

His hands have never felt this itchy before. That desperate, longing feeling to just possess the very thing that’s placed right in front of you. Everything about her is just so captivating, staring up at John like he’s the one who hung the moon, so full of adoration and hope.

Seems like John isn’t the only desperate one between the two of them. He could see it in her eyes. She’s practically begging him to take care of her.

And really, he can’t blame her.

An absent mother and an alcoholic father. No wonder she’s seeking attention from a man like John. A man old enough to be her father – if not older than her own father. John would be more than willing to fulfill the role her father failed to be when she was young. He’d do anything to protect her, morals be damned.

She looks too good to be true sitting right in front of him and he didn’t think watching someone devour a burger twice as big as her face would be so endearing. The way she licks her lips, the way her eyes sparkle every time John would pay attention to the little things she’d absentmindedly insert in her stories. No one must’ve given her this kind of attention before. No one but John.

“Oh, before I forget!” She places a hand on John’s arm that’s perched on the table. A mere innocent touch, yet he can’t help but feel a little giddy on the inside. “We’ve been talking for like, an hour now, and I still haven’t asked what your job is. I’ve been really curious ever since you told me you took a day off just for this. Are you like the boss or something?”

Ah. Of course.

A question like this is inevitable, thank god John came prepared.

“No,” he simply says. “I’m a book binder. I collect and restore books as both a hobby and job.”

“Wow,” she nods her head, now interested as she leans forward and closer to him. She smells so sweet, John feels like he’s snorting sugar. “I didn’t think book binding could earn you so much money. Considering you’re dressed pretty… comfortably. And you have a nice car.”

“It pays enough,” John replies. Sooner or later she’d find out what he really does for a living, and no doubt she’d be scared. John already has a plan of action for when that would happen, but for now, he’ll try to keep it a secret as long as he can. “Pays enough to let me spoil you in the future. In fact, I think I might just start spoiling you now.”

“You say that to every woman you meet?” She quirks an eyebrow, teasing.

“Just for you. You’re special.”

John sees the way she immediately turns shy and nervous from the statement. It must’ve felt overwhelming, having someone so much older and with more experience to hit on her like that. But John would say it brings a whole different feeling in him, like ego-lifting of some sort, knowing he just might be the only man that treated her right in her life.

Does killing one of her guy friends and storing him in his basement means treating her right? Does stalking her and watching her sleep from across the building is a way to treat her right? Different story to be told for another day.

“I believe you,” she says, smiling.

Of course you do.

John diverts her attention from him. “You’re a veterinary student and also part time in a veterinary clinic. What made you want to pursue it?”

“Uh, let’s see. I don’t really have like, a very logical reason for it. I just really love animals and I want them to be part of my job as well,” she shrugs. “As for the part time thing, one of my older friends works there and got me in to gain some experience. I don’t really do much, I help with the paperworks and watch how they do stuff around there.”

I know.

“Your unconditional love for animals is logical enough.”

“I know right. Best job in the world, I might add. I get to pet all kinds of different animals everyday, and mind you I’m not even a real doctor yet,” she giggles, then tilts her head in curiosity. “Do you have a pet, John?”

“I do. I have a dog,” he answers, taking a sip of his own milkshake. It’s sweet, it’s something he’s not used to, but it reminds him of her. “Unfortunately, I haven’t named her yet.”

She frowns. “Why not?”

“I don’t know how to. I’m not good with names,” John shrugs. This conversation with her alone just might be the longest conversation he’s ever shared with someone ever since Helen died. And even with his late wife, he wasn’t as talkative as this. “Maybe you could name her. She’s a large pitbull but surprisingly very gentle for her size.”

“Oh my god, John, I have to meet her!” She beams. “Maybe on our next date, don’t you think? Let’s bring her with us to the park, have a little picnic there or something.”

Next date.

She wants to go on another date with him and she is making this a lot easier for John.

His lips stretch into a rare smile, fingers twitching subtly around the glass as he stares right into her eyes. There’s no hidden intention behind them, just pure adoration with a twinge of hope. Probably hopes that John wants the same thing as her, but he wouldn’t let her know that she is in for a lot more than she bargained for.

“I can’t wait for our next one.”

John could still remember the little things that made him feel human.

Back in the Marines, when he first killed somebody, he felt a tremendous amount of guilt and self-hating that he couldn’t sleep for a week. He’d have nightmares of it; of holding his gun up to somebody’s head and blowing it up with just one single movement. The residue of the flesh splattered all over his face, some of them even went to his mouth. His hands shaked but he didn’t let his crew see it. In their eyes, that wasn’t the first time he had done it.

When he was recruited by Viggo and his little minions, the guilt of killing people was still there, but barely. He used to wish he didn’t feel any guilt or remorse at all every time he pulled a trigger, but looking back at it now, he wishes he could just take it all back. It was only guilt that he felt most of his life, but it made John human.

Now, he doesn’t feel very human as he stands in the middle of an abattoir holding a machete with pints of blood pooling at his shoes.

Back then, he used to kill. Point, shoot, leave. A very short routine he told himself to stick with unless he wanted to get in trouble. But now, he is not only just killing. John is fucking slaughtering people.

His eyes land on the dead body hanging from the meat hook. Naked, gutted alive just a few moments ago. His stomach is sliced open with his own intestines wrapped around his neck, and it fucking stinks.

The raw stench of human blood mixing with the already reeking smell of the slaughtered pigs hanging just besides the one John had slaughtered himself.

Really, John should feel even just a little amount of remorse or disgust. His client didn’t particularly gave him a specific order on how to fucking kill the target, John did it himself. He didn’t know what the fuck was he thinking when he was doing the wet work, all he knows is that he’s getting worse each day that passes.

The killing part took some time considering the man certainly put up a fight. He was smuggling drugs inside the pigs he was slaughtering. It works on people too, though it’s too risky. Dying with balloons of cocaine up your throat or ass isn’t exactly the way you’d want to die, nor the kind of state you want your body to be in.

John really didn’t mean to go this far, but all the pent up anger and frustration led him to do something so ugly. He feels like a ticking bomb. Every second a little part of humanity just starts fading away, who knows what would happen if all of it were gone.

This is his first kill since his date with his bambi. That was five days ago. John decided to take another job while he’s waiting for her next decision. He doesn’t want to look clingy and creepy by constantly texting her every chance he gets, so he lets her do it in her own phase. Though, waiting for her texts sure did take a lot of rampant rage on John’s side. Lots of broken furniture and a creepy amount of hours watching her sleep from across the building.

Just because John is letting her do her own thing for the meantime, doesn’t mean he gets to take his eyes off of her. It’s for the best.

Their last conversation was yesterday. It was a pretty long conversation, but not long enough for John’s satisfaction. She left it off by saying she’s going to be busy studying for her test and cleaning her apartment, which John didn’t have the time to check if she was telling the truth since he was busy himself.

John is dying to see her again but he knows he’s gonna have to wait it out in the Continental. Or maybe if he’s feeling a little bit insane, he’d ditch having to rest and spend his time sitting on a dusty chair in the same dusty room he’s been staying in for awhile; the building across from her apartment. But until then he’ll have to see where time will take him.

His phone ringing in his jacket is what snaps him from his thoughts. Bringing a bloodied hand to get it, he almost couldn’t press the screen by the slippery liquid covering his fingers. John presses the phone to his ear, waiting for the person to speak.

“Hey, boss. How’s Russia treating you so far? Hopefully not great ‘cause I’ve got some news that will cheer you up.” The deep voice of Alex echoes in the abattoir. It must’ve slipped John’s mind that he had sent Alex again to tail her again while he’s out overseas.

He furrows his brows, curious. “How is she?”

“Hm, let’s see here. Your little pet has been up and about all day with her little friends after they’ve finally noticed the disappearance of that little shit we took care of a while back – speaking of which, how is he by the way?”

“Rotting. Dissolving in my basement,” John replies, hands tightening around the handle of the machete. So this is what she’s been doing and the reason why she hasn’t messaged him all day. “I say the fucker got what he deserved. He’s a creep who preys on women to rape, I’m just thankful we got him out of the way before he got to her.”

“Yeah, well. She doesn’t know that and I doubt she’d even stop looking for her creepy friend unless they’ve found him. What do you want me to do?”

“Give it a day or two. Wait for me to get back and I’ll take it from there.”

“Anything else?” John hears loud chattering in the background, he furrows his brows.

“Yeah. Where are you right now?”

“Uhh, keeping her in my sight like you told me to?” Alex sounds particularly sassy. John doesn’t know if he should be pleased or not. “She’s at a restaurant. I think she’s having a meeting with her other friends or something – she looks upset.”

“Upset because of her missing friend, I assume.”

“Probably. Have you talked to her at all today, boss? Pretty sure I have not yet seen her pick up her phone all day.”

“No,” John simply says. “But she will. I’m sure of it.”

“I see you’ve finally gotten her dependent on you now.”

“Not enough, apparently, since she’s gone a full day without talking to me.”

“Well, you’re definitely getting there,” Alex says under his breath. “I’m going now, boss. They’re leaving to god knows where.”

John doesn’t say anything else, only ending the call and pocketing back his phone. He looks around the area, the coppery smell of blood is stronger than before. He is the reason why it stinks in here, the reason why there’s so much blood and brutality. The body that hangs right in front of him is lifelessly staring with dead, cold eyes. John resists the urge to shove a balloon of fucking cocaine into his stomach, the same thing he’s been doing with these pigs, brutalize him more if that’s even possible, but he knows it wouldn’t help his already worsening mentality.

The thought of someone seeing this body and thinking about how fucked up the person who did this doesn’t concern him as much as it should.

Instead, John turns his heels and walks away from the scene.

Unsurprisingly, getting her to depend on John isn’t the hardest task to do.

It just might be the easiest.

The moment John arrives at the Continental, he takes his time to message his bambi. It’s only reasonable, he wouldn’t come out as a clingy creep since it’s been a full day since his last message, he has every right to know what and how she’s doing despite already getting enough pictures and updates from Alex.

He asks her how she’s been, waits for approximately ten minutes before he finally gets a reply. In those ten minutes, John takes his time scrolling through the pictures Alex had sent him. Pictures of her bundled up in large, colorful sweaters and wearing a frown on her pretty face. She looks rough, but she makes looking rough look good.

Bambi : hi, john :(( sorry i didn’t text you all day. was busy with something

John : That’s alright, I understand. I’m just glad you replied. Did something come up? Was it about school?

Bambi : kind of. my friend from school is missing and we don’t know where he is. we’re worried because he hasn’t answered any of our calls for a week and his apartment is practically empty.

Reading that almost makes him resist an urge to sickly smile to himself. His fingers hover the screen, careful of what his next words might be.

John : I’m sorry to hear that. Have you gotten any updates from the police? What did they say?

Bambi : nothing yet unfortunately. no one saw him the night he went missing :(

John : I’m sure you’ll find him soon enough. I hope nothing extremely bad happened to your friend.

He sounds… manipulating. There aren’t any more words that could describe what John is doing to her. He doesn’t even know if he can still make up excuses to tell himself that everything is completely fine and normal.

The girl that he likes is currently sharing about the horrifying tragedy her ‘friend’ is facing, the horrifying tragedy being John’s fault, and he’s fucking lying about it. And what truly terrifies him the most is not about the fact that he’s manipulating her, he’s terrified because it feels normal and just… fine.

Normal, normal, normal–

Can John really win her over by going this path? If not, would it really matter?

He will still have the upper hand if this doesn’t end well. But then again, there’s a very small chance that it wouldn’t – if not none at all. John just needs to play his cards well and there wouldn’t be a problem.

Bambi : thank you john. really hope that too. it doesn’t feel the same without him

John’s jaw ticks.

What do you mean it doesn’t feel the same without that fucker? I killed him for you! He was a creep who only wanted to fuck you and take you away from me and–

A dangerous feeling suddenly surge into his veins that he wants to put back together all the pieces of that fucker just to destroy it in his hands once again.

Maybe mutilating him and dissolving him in pure acid just isn’t enough. Maybe he deserved more. Maybe John should’ve took his fucking time torturing that little shit instead of killing him instantly.

John : And how are you? I hope you’re not too worried about this matter that you start to forget about taking care of yourself.

Bambi : i’m doing fine, but a bit sad bc of it. i also miss you and i wish u’re here so i wouldn’t be too sad

And just like that, it’s like all his resentment and rage just one minute prior vanished in a snap of a finger. A small smile makes its way to his face and a surge of ego soars into his chest. She has no idea she’s got a dangerous assassin wrapped around her finger and the consequences it’d bring her.

Bambi : are u still overseas? when will you be back?

John : Tomorrow, hopefully.

John : And I miss you too, sweetheart. I promise I’ll be back as soon as I finish work.

Bambi : can’t wait to see you. do u want me to pick u up at the airport? :D

John : Thank you, baby, but that won’t be necessary. I don’t want to keep you busy when you already have too much in your hands.

Bambi : mkay. but call me or text me when u arrive, ok?

John : Of course.

John is not stupid.

If he ever noticed a man following his every step, he didn’t once care or say a word.

It’s one of Winston’s men, obviously, following him around throughout his business in Russia up to boarding the same plane as him back to New York. Considering John had managed to catch on pretty quickly at the fact that Winston sent someone to trail him, this poor guy is not doing a particularly good job.

At first, John thought about taking care of the guy himself and bringing Winston a souvenir of his dog’s fingers or even one of his eyeballs, but decided that he is not that cruel.

He could be, but knowing he holds all the power over several people under The Table makes John wants to play the game a little longer and just fucking shiver in excitement.

Obviously Winston had noticed that John is up to no good. Not that it’s any of his business, he’s more likely just scared for his own life. He’s probably thinking it was a bad idea to bring John back into the game now that he’s living up to the horrors of his reputation and giving people exactly what they wanted.

When John first returned to the field, it was only to avenge his late wife and nothing more. But now that a bigger monster has grown within him over the course of his stay, he’s now also looking for the fuel to his fire.

And boy did he find it.

The fuel being in the form of a young woman who’s unaware of how much power she has over John. It’s only a matter of time before all hell breaks loose.

10:56 PM.

“Hello.”

“Hello? John?”

“It’s me, darling. How are you?”

“Doing fine. Studying for my exam and all. Why are you calling at this hour, though?”

“Just wanted to let you know that I just arrived back in New York and see how you’re doing.”

“Oh, John, it’s so late. I was thinking earlier that you would arrive tomorrow morning or afternoon, you didn’t tell me you boarded a flight.”

“I wanted to be back as soon as possible and wanted to surprise you, but my flight got delayed so I only just arrived now.”

A soft laugh rings in his ear.

“You’re so cheeky. We can just meet up tomorrow if you’d like, go on a picnic at a park or something. I really, really wanna meet your dog.”

John hears a sigh, then the sound of paper rustling in the background. He counts – one, two, three – here it comes.

“I miss you, John.”

He pushes the curtain aside with two fingers, peering his eyes in the small opening as he watches the figure at the other side of the building. She’s sitting on her study desk in front of a laptop, freshly showered and wearing specs that John can’t help his heart to ache.

It’s been so long.

“I miss you too, sweetheart. Couldn’t stop thinking about you when I was away.”

“That’s very sweet. I hope you brought souvenirs for me, though, or otherwise I will be very sad.”

“How can I forget? I bought everything that reminded me of you when I was there.”

“Now you’re just spoiling me.” Another laugh, then John sees her getting up from the chair and laying on the bed. “I’m happy that I’d get to see you again tomorrow, John. Everything that’s been happening is just so… I don’t know. Stressful, I guess. From my friend missing and school work, I don’t even know where to start. I just wanna be with you again.”

The mention of her friend Jay ticks him the wrong way, but he can’t also help but notice the longing and desperation laced in her voice as she said the last part. John knows it wouldn’t be too hard for her to be dependent on him, he just didn’t expect it to be this easy. They’ve only met once in real life, but their constant texting and calling through the phone makes it up for it.

“Don’t let yourself worry too much on matters that don’t concern you.”

Silence, then John watches her bite her nail anxiously. “What do you mean by that, John?”

He doesn’t particularly like the way his name just rolls off her tongue like that – like she’s his age, the same way Helen used to call him. He doesn’t want to be reminded of Helen when he’s with his little bambi, it just makes him feel even shittier with the situation. It sorta reminds John how much he truly changed when he lost Helen.

“Don’t worry about your friend too much. I know it’s hard that he’s missing, but don’t put him first before your own well being,” John advises, manipulation just dripping off his tongue like it’s the easiest thing in the world. He doubts she would notice, though. “I’m sure the police got it covered by now. I’m more worried about you.”

John could still see her expression through the window despite being far away. She’s thinking about it, letting herself get swayed by his lies and persuasion. She’s too easy, she just doesn’t know it herself, but John does. And he’s going to take advantage of it as much as he can.

He counts again – one, two, three – and she’s dropping her hand to the bed and sighing softly. There she is.

“Okay. You’re probably right, I worry too much.”

John doesn’t reply but gives a silent hum that indicates he’s agreeing. He sees her taking off her glasses and putting it on the bedside table, suddenly the itch in his hands is back.

There’s a voice nagging at the back of his head and asking him just what the fuck is he doing, that he should stop this madness before it gets out of hand, but would that really make a difference? Even if John did stop, he’d still continue to live with the fact that he was a monster who stalked a young woman out of sheer obsession. He’d already got her dependent on him, he’d already laid out the plan on how this would turn out, why is he suddenly questioning now?

He had done stuff that was worse than manipulating. He didn’t feel a single drop of empathy when he was slaughtering people and shooting them in the head, but why does he feel guilty manipulating her?

“John? Did you already fall asleep on me?”

Soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts, then it’s followed by a soft giggle. John feels butterflies exploding in his stomach.

“Sorry. I was just–”

“It’s okay, John, you can sleep. You’ve probably had a long day since you’ve been on a flight and everything. I’m going to sleep now too, we have a date tomorrow, remember? Don’t forget.” The faux strictness in her voice makes him smile, then he sees her smiling just as big through the window; giddy and excited. “Goodnight, John. It’s really nice talking to you again. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, darling. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She hangs up first, smiling to herself before putting the phone back to her nightstand. She settles on the bed comfortably, tucking herself into her blanket, unaware of the fact that there’s a monster lurking on the other building, watching her every move like a hawk.

He catches a glimpse of himself in the old mirror on the dusty wall, dressed in black and predatory, reminiscent of the devil himself.

Might as well live up to the name.

John is aware of how dead he looks in people’s eyes. He barely smiles, he’s always dressed in black, and he always has trouble showing emotions through his face. He makes sure that he gives off that aura that shows how much he dislikes everyone in the fucking room. How much he just wants to pull out his gun and shoot every single one of them in the head.

John despises the way they look at him. Like they pity him for losing his wife, for getting dragged back to the life he had already left. Though, he can’t really blame them, really. He used to pity himself too, even now for letting himself get even worse, but he wouldn’t really call it pity. He doesn’t know what it is, but it’s not pity.

The next day is interesting, to say the least.

He couldn’t get a minute of sleep the night before, the image of her sleeping so peacefully without a worry in the world bored into his mind. It’s extremely fascinating to him just how careless and… dumb she is. Dumb in a way that it’s benifiting John – the both of them, actually – and not in an offensive kind of way.

It was around two in the morning when he returned back to the hotel, managed to sleep for an hour or two before ripping off the blankets and had a drink the first thing in the morning. John didn’t bother taking a nap after that, just walking around the room making sure all is well and everything will be according to plan.

At 8 AM, she texted John a good morning and said it would be better for their date to be at 4 PM. John then replied that it was perfect, though he doubts he can wait that long.

12 PM, for a man as calm and collected as John, he sure as hell can’t fucking sit still in one place.

He’s paranoid. No amount of texts from his bambi is enough to keep him calm. The time is ticking too slowly for his liking and he has no other things to do in his free time. Except be paranoid.

John grabs his coat, kisses his dog goodbye and decides to stop by a grocery store to prepare for their date. He should at least make them both a sandwich and buy drinks, knowing that the little gesture would be enough to put a smile on her face.

1 PM, John comes back with shit ton of paper bags in his arms. He’s doing too much, he knows it, but too much is still better than not enough.

John goes to the kitchen to prepare. The orphanage taught him how to cook – well, not really. John taught himself how to cook, because if he’s not going to cook for himself and half of the kids back in Ruska, they’d all be dead with no survival instincts to save them from starvation. Being an assassin who could withstand any form of torture all while not knowing how to cook would be the greatest joke of the century. John’s not the one to be laughed out.

2 PM, everything is settled and in place, his little bambi texts him to let him know that she’s getting ready and cannot wait for their date. John then takes his time to get ready too.

3 PM, John is dressed in a nice white t-shirt with a brown leather jacket on top. He looks civilised, no one would know a damn thing that he’s one of the most feared men in the underworld who slaughters people for a living.

His dog is quiet in the corner, chewing on her bone toy until John puts a collar and leash around her neck. Her eyes perks up in excitement, already knowing they would go outside to play. John always takes his time making sure she gets to socialize with other dogs, whether it’s in a park or just down the street.

“You’re excited, baby?” John murmurs, petting her ears softly as he kneels down to her position. “You’re gonna meet someone special. Want you to be nice to her, alright? She’s gonna be your mom.”

John hauls everything into his car in a matter of minutes. The picnic basket, the blanket, his gifts for his little one that he got from Russia, also including his dog. She’s behaved yet excited as she peeks in the mirror watching her owner work.

He slides into the driver’s seat and locks his seatbelt, starting up the car and driving away from the hotel. Earlier, John had seen a couple of his co-workers loading up his trunk dressed like he’s going on a date – because he is – no doubt they’re snitching and would tell Winston. He couldn’t care less.

He arrives outside her apartment after thirty minutes, parking his car right by the entrance. He can’t help but grimace as he looks around the place. He remembers meeting her here, the day after he killed that good-for-nothing junkie. He wonders if she ever got the news, how she reacted when someone got killed the same day John was visiting her area.

It won’t be long before she wouldn’t be living in this area no more. It’s too dangerous, filled with a bunch of goons who get themselves tangled up in petty gang wars. John knows a gangster when he sees one, and it looks like every single man who lives in these crowded apartments are either pushers or gangsters with no sense of direction in life.

She doesn’t belong here. She should be in John’s house, locked up and isolated where she’s safe under his supervision. He would treat her like a princess, give her the things she deserve.

John gets out of the car, pulls out his phone and sends her a message to let her know he’s outside her building. He leans against the car as he waits.

A minute passes and a very happy bambi appears in the elevator, dressed in a pretty sundress and a white tote bag with a text John can’t see. She’s beaming up at him as she exits the building, and John hasn’t got the time to react before she’s lunging herself forward and going on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck.

“Whoa easy,” John murmurs, immediately wrapping his arms around her waist for support, placing his face in the crook of her neck and inhaling her scent; it’s sweet, not a surprise. “You miss me that much?”

“So much, you don’t even wanna know,” she murmurs in his chest, not quite reaching his neck despite being on her tiptoes. “I hope you miss me just as much.”

John pulls away, gives her a look as he places her large hands on her hips. “I might’ve missed you more than you missed me.”

She giggles, John could see her eyes through the heart-shaped sunglasses she’s wearing. It’s cute. “That’s not possible, I will fight you for it.”

“Hm,” John hums, eyes wandering down her lips to her dress. It stops just above her knees, John has to mentally prepare himself for the worst. “You look beautiful.”

“Thank you,” she says sheepishly. “You like it? I think it’s the perfect picnic outfit.”

“I love it,” John clarifies. “Looks perfect on you.”

“You look gorgeous yourself,” she giggles, eyeing John up and down teasingly, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. He isn’t so sure how to react to that, hopefully his dick wouldn’t take the liberty to rise from the dead at this moment. “This is the first time I’ve seen you not wearing any suits. Domestic looks good on you.”

“What can I say, I’m a changed man.” John means both good and bad. “And before we go, I want to introduce you to someone.”

Before she gets a chance to ask, John slides out of the way from his position of covering the car window and reveals a very happy pitbull waiting to be introduced to her mother.

Her smile is wide when she spots John’s pet excitedly wagging her tail inside the car. “Oh my god, she is beautiful! John, open the door, hurry, hurry, hurry–”

“Okay, okay–”

The moment John pulls the door open, the dog comes rushing out to jump and starts licking her face.

“Oh, lookie here, baby! You’re such a cutie! What’s your name, hm? Don’t got a name yet? Your dad can’t think of a name to give ya’?”

Her giggles are like music to his ears.

The sound of paws pattering on the concrete and her high pitched voice talking to the dog fills the empty street in a matter of seconds. When she isn’t looking, John begins looking around the area, his eyes landing on the apartment building where he preys at some nights.

There’s a person at the front desk, staring at him like he knows something, and like a switch that goes off in his brain, John recognizes this man as the same one who bumped into him a few nights ago in the hallway in front of the abandoned room where he’s staying.

They meet eyes, John flashes him a knowing look, then the man immediately looks away.

John’s jaw ticks. He’s gonna have to deal with that later.

He turns his attention back to where it’s most needed. She’s still playing with the dog, crouching beside the car while the puppy just drowns in her affection. John really hates to break the moment.

“Shall we get going?” He interjects, voice deeper than usual, still feeling a little on the edge from that man by the front desk earlier.

“Sure. She gonna be in the backseat?”

“You bet.”

John opens the door for the both of them and lets her help the puppy get inside. Before he slams the door close, he makes sure to take another look at the apartment, seeing the man already staring back at him.

Yeah. He’s really gonna have to deal with that later.

They arrive at the park around 4:25 and John is the one to set up their spot while she and the puppy play in the empty field. It’s empty, totally empty, and John couldn’t be more thankful than that since he really doesn’t want to be around other people besides her. She’s the only one that matters.

John notices that she brought her own dog toys, probably the ones she keeps to herself since she does work in a vet clinic after all. The sight of her happily running around the grass with his dog is enough to bring him to his knees, he is only but a man.

John calls her to eat and the two of them come running towards him and plops down on the soft blanket next to the basket full of fruits.

“Had fun?” John speaks, sitting beside her on the ground as he watches her get a plate of pasta for the two of them. She insists she gets to plate their food, John lets her.

“Very. Didn’t know she’s quite energetic, luckily for her I can match her energy extremely well.”

“It comes with being young, I guess. Can’t really relate,” he jokes, receiving the plate full of pasta she gives him while she snickers at the statement.

“Come on, John. You’re still fit despite being old.” John watches her take a bite of the food. He’s not subtle, he’s straight up staring at her lips as she wraps her mouth around the fork, savoring the flavor with closed eyes. “Hm, this is delicious. Where did you learn to cook like this?”

“By myself,” he shrugs, taking a bite of his food to keep him from taking a bite of her instead. “I’m surprised you aren’t creeped out.”

“With what?”

“With my age,” John makes it clear. “You’re young with a bright future ahead of you–”

“Yet here I am having a date with an old man?” she interjects, wiggles her eyebrows, teasing clearly with the way she emphasizes the last part. “I can’t believe you thought I’m gonna get creeped out. You’re a grown man with a stable job and not to mention very hot, I find that very sexy.”

“You think I’m sexy?” he raises a brow.

“Yes, I think you’re very sexy. I haven’t once encountered a guy my age who has the same status as you,” she sets down the plate on her lap for a moment. “You know, experienced and mature.”

“I see,” John nods. It’s very clear that she’s always found the people who contrast her so well attractive. She wants a savior that would save her from everything, luckily John fits in the description quite too well.

They delve in a normal conversation after that. John makes sure to steer away all questions regarding him and his life, a way to learn more about her other than the pictures and videos and information he’d been sent by Alex.

John already knows a lot about her, it wouldn’t hurt to learn a little more.

Ten minutes go by, a bottle of wine has been pulled out of the basket and she’s spilling her whole life to John in a matter of moments. From lttle memories from childhood to how she moved from her hometown to New York to get away from her father. How when she was younger, she begged her toys to talk to her and she wouldn’t tell anyone. How their family pet back in the days impacted the choices she made to choose her career path – to become a veterinarian.

John listens. He’s always been good at listening instead of talking, so he listens.

5 PM, the two of them play with the dog and she decides to name her “Blue.”

“Is it because she has blue eyes?” John asks.

“Yeah. Not really original, I know, but it fits her.”

“Blue is perfect.”

It’s already 6 PM when they decide to head home. She’s still talking the moment they’re in the car and John is still listening. There’s something about her voice that just… pulls him in. It’s so sweet and soft.

When they arrive outside her apartment complex, it’s dead silent.

“I really enjoyed our date today, John,” she smiles when he opens the door for her, now standing in front of him and looking up to meet his eyes. “The pasta was delicious. I hope I get to eat more of them in the future – and oh, I really, really enjoyed playing with Blue! I’m so thankful that you let me name her even though it wasn’t really special–”

“Hush,” John jokingly interrupts. “The night might be over, but I can assure you that I will see you soon again.”

“How soon would that be again?”

“Eager to see me already?”

“Maybe.”

“You know I always make time for you, sweetheart,” John croons, placing a large hand on her chin and staring deeply into her eyes. “Is it too early for me to kiss you?”

She laughs, then wraps her arms around his waist to pull him in closer. John looks at her and falls in love for what to be a millionth time today. She never fails to take his breath away. “Not too early, I promise you. You should’ve done that sooner.”

“Well, I’m gonna do it now.”

Before she can add another word, John leans down to smash his lips against hers, his large hand finding its way on the small of her back to deepen the kiss that she can’t help but whimper into his mouth.

Fuck.

Her lips are so, so soft. John can still taste the lingering sweetness of the wine from earlier and being so close to her that her scent is shutting off his entire brain. If he won’t stop, he might just end up fucking her on the hood of his car until she can’t walk straight.

Their lips move in tandem and she’s following his head like she always does. Her small hands are gripping his leather jacket for support, so pliant and vulnerable, already trusting him enough to kiss him on their second date.

This is a sudden shift in his universe, John knows he’s already won.

He’s the first to pull away and their lips are wet and connected with saliva. She’s flushed and out of breath like expected, John wants nothing more but to break her and make her his.

Oh wait, she already is.

“How was that?” John asks, voice deep.

“I wanna do it again.”

He chuckles, rubbing his thumb on her cheeks while she’s busy avoiding his eyes. “Let’s save it for next time.”

He’s gonna control himself.

“That next time better come by fast,” she threatens jokingly. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“Don’t talk like you’re not gonna see me for days, baby,” John whispers. “You know I won’t let you go that easily. You’re mine now.”

He doesn’t miss the way her pupils dilated and the way the clutch she has on his leather jackets becomes tighter. She’s already fallen deep into his trap, John wants to push his claws in even deeper.

“Say it again,” she mutters, leaning in against his warm large hand as she closes her eyes. “Say it again. Please.”

John smiles when she isn’t looking. He really won.

“You’re mine.”

That same night, 4 AM, John is back in his work clothes and arranging something in a dark room.

The stench of metallic blood hitting his nose, and he stands in the middle of the room to inhale that scent – god, does he truly miss it.

The sight of a man in front of him wakes something dangerous within John’s veins. Hands tied up behind the chair, head dropped forward, lifeless and cold. His lower stomach is open, guts hanging off the floor as the other half is used to gag him in the mouth. His eyes are missing, John took the liberty to take them out for staring at him too much, and he couldn’t be any more relieved when he did.

“What do you know?” John had asked as soon as the man woke up from his head concussion.

“Y-You!” The man had yelled, John didn’t bother finding out his name. “You fucking creep –”

John’s hands twitched beside him. He remained silent.

The man went on a rant about how he’d seen John around lurking outside the apartment complex and using the abandoned room on the fifth floor and that’s all John needed to know.

He didn’t need another pair of eyes to tell him what’s right and wrong. Winston is already enough.

The next morning, John receives a text from none other than his bambi. A picture of numerous police cars outside her apartment and an ambulance, and another picture of a dead body covered in white blanket getting pulled out of the building.

Bambi : there was an accident that happened near me, john :((

Bambi : the police said somebody was killed and i’m scared

Bambi : they said he was gutted alive

John is smiling to himself when he types his response.

John : What kind of a sick person would do something like that?

He is not a sick person. He’s just in love.

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madridfangirl · 7 months ago

Text

Star crossed lovers (Jude Bellingham fanfic)

Chapter 3

(Series Link)

Jude * female reader. No warnings.

Synopsis: A chance encounter in a tiny Madrid cafe with the newest superstar of her fav club. The two couldn't be more different, yet both feel the pull toward the other. Would this girl be the one he finally falls for? Would she make him change his ways? Even though she resists him every step of the way, would he fight all odds (& her) to have her in his life? Or would life come in the way of these star-crossed lovers?

…………………………….

Sharp 25 mins later, her phone flashed with his name.

Jude: see you in 5.

She sent a quick thumbs up and made her way down to the mentioned parking lot. After getting lost a few times on multiple floors and somehow explaining to the security staff as to why she needed to access the private parking, Ananya finally reached the spot.

His car was already there - some fancy chauffeur driven one she didn’t even know the make or model of. She had specifically asked him to not get down so they don’t get seen together and she was pleased to note that he had followed instructions to the T. In fact, the back seat had tinted glasses for extra privacy.

She walked over and at the same time the back door opened, his head peeking out with an extended hand and an ear-to-ear smile. Ananya took his hand and he smoothly guided her in, the door closing automatically behind her.

‘Wow, you really did come, huh? Part of me still wasn’t sure.’

‘Honestly, I am surprised too.’

He smiled at her refreshing honesty, something he was liking more and more about her.

‘The jersey looks great on you.’

He nodded appreciatively. Her whole mood lifted - it was one of her most prized possessions. While Roma had insisted she wears something fancier this evening, she had stuck to her guns.

‘Mine would have looked better though. Especially tonight, with the goals, you know. The ones you loved. Still not too late, dove. I have a spare one right here.’

He smirked, while looking straight into her eyes. He was trying to play it off as a casual remark but she could tell it wasn’t that.

‘Not a good colour on you, Jude. Not at all.’

She was lying. Outrightly. Because this borderline arrogance suited him perfectly. This mix of confidence & cockiness was the reason he had done wonders at this club in the last few months. But she wasn’t going to say that to him.

Jude burst out laughing, raising his hands in submission, making her laugh too.

He looked particularly jovial right now, understandably so. The man had just scored two winning goals in his first ever Classico, which was crazy.

It just occurred to her that he still hadn’t let go of her hand. Her right hand was still softly engulfed in his large left one, and he kept grazing her knuckles with his thumb from time to time. The touch felt warm and comfortable, making her take a deep breath to gather herself.

Meanwhile, he kept yapping away about the dressing room and silly stories of his teammates. Then proceeded to show her some crazy photos from the celebration. One of the photos had him shirtless and visibly wet, either just before the shower or after. She quickly looked elsewhere in the frame and thankfully he scrolled to the next one.

However, the next one was THAT notorious photo. Right after the goal. With both his hands pointing down.

‘Ah crap!’

He quickly locked the screen and threw the phone on the seat, looking towards the window with embarrassment.

‘That celebration was….interesting, shall we say?’

She teased him, then giggled at his subsequent groans.

‘My mum’s gonna give me some solid grief over that. You have no idea.’

‘Oh, she absolutely should.’

He turned sharply towards her, pretending to be hurt.

‘That’s what I get for winning you the match, huh? Not even some sympathy?’

‘Should have thought about that before pointing to your genitals with the whole world watching.’

It was a spur of the moment comment, but she absolutely froze after saying that, deeply flustered. Even he wasn’t expecting that from her, she could tell.

She firmly shut her eyes, kicking herself for the loose words.

Jude squeezed her hand, which was still firmly in his grip, and leaned closer. Whispering next to her ear.

‘Not such a little dove then, are we? Need to change my nickname for you.’

She broke into a nervous giggle, trying to push him away with a hand to his chest, but he caught that hand too, letting her struggle playfully in his hold. Laughing at her antics. Trying to get her to meet his gaze.

‘Juuuuude.’

‘Okay okay.’

He let her go, allowing her to calm down, then reached for her right hand again and gently covered it with his. She didn’t mind it at all. They stayed like that for the next few mins, soaking in the silence and enjoying the late evening views of this beautiful city.

‘We are almost there, reaching in two.’

They entered a gated, exclusive community. Ananya could tell from the looks of it that the USP was luxury and privacy. The houses were some distance away from each other, with big, gated yards and tons of natural beauty.

She felt a tinge of anxiety. The same feeling she had in the washroom before coming down to meet him. This world was very different from hers. But his hand on hers was a constant comfort in that moment.

When they pulled into his driveway, Jude thanked the driver with a smile and they both got down.

Jude got to the other side, guiding her inside with a soft hand to her lower back. It was the first time they stood next to each other and she realised how tall he really was. She barely came up till his throat. Barely.

The house, despite being big ofcourse, was not outrageously big. It felt nice and warm. Lived in. There were a ton of photos with friends, family and earlier footballing days. The place had a touch of his mom written all over it. All family photos, especially ones with his mom and brother, were full of biggest smiles and bear hugs. It was just wholesome.

Meanwhile, Jude switched off the alarm, turned up the lights and checked if the housekeeper had set some things in order.

Moments later, he walked over to her as she was still engrossed in the photos. Ananya turned around to greet him.

‘This is lovely. All of this.’

‘Thanks. All coz of my mum - she set up the whole place. I was quite useless to be honest. She shot all my ideas down, rightly so.’

He spoke so fondly of his mother, it made her smile.

‘Do you miss her? Miss the family?’

‘Uh-huh. A lot sometimes. But my mom keeps visiting and I go back every chance I get. Not too bad. What about you? Do you miss home?’

‘I do. It’s the first time I have been away like this. But we talk everyday and I am going to visit soon for Diwali. It’s a big festival back in India.’

‘Oh I know - told you have some Indian neighbours back home.’

As he started chatting again, she realised how easy it was to talk to him. One would forget who he is and his public persona when you get into a conversation with him. Again, so so normal.

After a few minutes, he guided her into the kitchen to get a drink.

As he picked up a bottle of red, she leaned against the counter and smiled to herself while he struggled with the wine opener. After 30 seconds, she decided to end his misery.

‘Here, let me help you.’

She strutted over and deftly fixed the opener as he stood behind her, rubbing the back of his neck & wondering how silly he would have looked to her.

‘Brainiac and resourceful - the list just keeps growing, dove.’

That earned him a few giggles which he gladly accepted.

‘In my defence, I mostly drink on vacation only. So.’

He shrugged and waived his hands, and she smiled at his goofiness while walking back to her spot at the counter.

She tried to sit up, finding the right angle to jump but somehow the counter was not the right height. Just then, she felt his hands on either side of her waist.

‘Here, let me help you.’

He smirked at the call back. Then, he effortlessly lifted her up, just with his hands, to help her settle on the counter. It took her a few seconds to gather herself and ponder over the physics of what had happened.

‘Music?’

‘Huh?’

‘Want some music?’

‘Sure.’

Jude put on some Spanish music. Combination of melodies and flamenco.

‘This okay? I started listening to this stuff to help learn the language, but now I kinda like it. Got a nice ring to it.’

It did sound serene, and yet had catchy beats. She started waving to the tune without realising it.

‘Yeah, it’s nice.’

He leaned against the opposite counter, sipping his wine & just taking her in as she got lost in the music. The jersey did look great on her, and the dark blue denim jeans went perfectly with it. Her open brown hair completed the look, matching her brown eyes. There was something about her that was drawing him to her. Maybe it was her ease, her honesty, her being true to herself, her strong opinions - it was refreshing. Different. Sweet. It was also alluring.

She was too far though, he wanted to be closer. So he crossed the distance between them and hopped on to the counter, settling next to her. Shoulders and knees almost touching.

When Ananya felt him close, she broke out of her trance & looked up at him. Maybe it was the lights constantly changing to the music but somehow his eyes felt different. They seemed to be looking right through her, searching for some signs. She gulped the remaining wine and that’s when his gaze broke.

He reached for the bottle on the other side of the counter, his long arms coming into play. Making her scoff.

‘Tall people things.’

Amused, he turned around and smiled.

‘Ooh is that a sore spot?’

‘Don’t even start.’

‘Fine, but you are quite perfect the way you are.’

He said casually while pouring the second round for both of them. She didn’t know how to respond to that or process that.

‘Tell me, are you a dancer?

‘Where did that come from?’

‘Just a gut. Feels like you have the rhythm for it, from the way you were moving just now. I absolutely DO NOT have that rhythm, so deprived people like me can tell when someone has what we don’t have.’

Ananya burst into a fit of giggles at his explanation, and ended up holding on to his elbow to regain her balance.

‘What? It’s true. Though I am not half as bad as Cama and Vini claim.’

‘Oh yeah - they can bust some moves. Especially Cama, he’s so precious. Absolutely adorable. He must be the life of all parties, no?

Jude sipped his wine quietly.

‘Yeah he’s fine.’

‘Fine? He’s a sweetheart. And to top it off what a player, man. His….’

‘Yeah yeah - hasn’t scored a goal in years though.’

‘Heyy, behave. I won’t hear trash talk against him. Or against anyone in my team. Love them all.’

‘Great. Noted.’

‘Can you stop pouting, Jude?’

‘Can you stop calling everyone else a sweetheart but me? Is it not enough that I have to see you in someone else’s jersey?’

She couldn’t help but feel a tad guilty at that. But she wasn’t sorry. She would never be sorry for loving Ronaldo the way she did but she could see his point too.

‘Truce?’

She extended her hand towards him. He looked at it for a second, then shook it gladly.

‘Truce.’

Just then, she heard her phone ring in the living room.

‘Stay, I will get it.’

‘Thank you.’

She was liking her place on the counter too much to get off right now.

He jogged to the living room and quickly came back to hand her the phone. It was still ringing. Strangely, he didn’t sit next to her. Rather, he busied himself in heating their pasta.

When she looked at the phone, she understood why. Arjun was on the line, for a video call. The same person Jude had thrown a fit over a few hours ago.

Surely he wouldn’t have recognised him, having only seen his face & name once. Or did he? She had a feeling he did, with the way he had his back to her right now.

Also, why was Arjun video calling her? He had never done that before. She disconnected the call. Jude paused for a second, then got back to the task at hand.

Her phone pinged again, a text this time from Arjun. She read it & put the phone down.

Jude was done with heating the pasta by then, and he placed the tray on the counter. He still hadn’t looked at her.

‘You can say or ask what you want to.’

‘Nope that’s a trap. You will get mad, like earlier.’

He had heard the challenge in her voice the last time he asked her, wasn’t going to fall for it again.

She couldn’t help but smile.

‘I promise I won’t get mad. Say.’

He finally looked up at her, indecisive for a few seconds but then he just went for it.

‘It was him, then?’

‘Yes, Arjun.’

‘Don’t need to know his name, didn’t ask for it.’

‘Noted.’

She answered calmly, which made his temperament ease as well.

‘What did he want?’

‘The three of them are at a club. He was asking me if I wanted to join them.’

‘THEM? Sure, that’s what he meant. Subtle.’

Ananya chose to not address the last comment.

‘Has he asked you out before?’

‘No.’

‘Does he think you asking him to come to the match today is some sort of a signal from you?’

Ananya was still. She hadn’t thought of it like that, not till Jude put it so bluntly. She honestly had no idea what to make of it and she said it out loud to him.

‘The bottom line is, I am not going. I am not answering his call. Is that not enough?’

‘Yeah, whatever.’

‘Jude, c’mon.’

‘Look, he likes you. Don’t ask me how I know it. But I do. At some point you have to deal with it coz you see him at work everyday. All day.’

‘Listen, I..’

‘On second thoughts, I do know how I know this.’

Jude walked over to her in big strides, and stood right in front of her, with both his hands on either side of her on the counter. His body touching her knees. He leaned closer.

‘He looked at you like I am looking at you right now. That’s how I know.’

They stared into each others eyes for god knows how long, coz neither of them knew. Finally, he allowed his hand to tuck back some loose strands from her face. Something he had wanted to do all night.

She sighed audibly, and he loved that sound. And wanted to elicit more sounds from her. But he needed to address the elephant in the room first.

Food was long forgotten, going cold on the counter. He held both her hands in his & met her gaze.

‘There is something holding you back from this, back from me. Tell me, is it him?’

A pained expression plastered over her face. He was so right and so wrong in some ways. It was time to let it out, no more hiding.

‘It’s not him.’

He let out a long sigh - mix of relief and dread.

‘What is it then? Tell me dove, we can work it out.’

She shut her eyes tightly, unable to look at his face as she uttered the next words.

‘That’s the thing, Jude. I don’t know if we can.’

……………………………………….

That was Chapter 3 folks. Lots more to go. Any feedback / comments are super welcome - would love to hear what you think :)

#real madrid #jude bellingham #bellingham x reader #jude fanfic #bellingham #jb5

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cursingtoji · 11 months ago

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🎙️ just saw your post asking about blog recs…step up to the stage bc i need some!!!!

BLOGS RECOMMENDATION <3

— mostly jjk, but also chainsaw man and aot

*taping the mic* okay here are my nominees with some fics recomendations as well

disclaimers!

lemme start saying so plot is everything to me, pwp can be hot but i'll hardly remember it afterwards, that being said here's some writers that can do both great plots and hot scenes.

also while digging i realize i wasn’t following some of those and if you noticed im sorry im dumb but i truly love your writing.

i tried to tag every active blog i could remember but it’s possible i forgot a few since i’ve been reading more jjk recently. if i forgot you im so sorry please don’t take offense.

many blogs i loved were deactivated, rest in piece great works they had.

everything i read i reblog under the tag #recs

@thekillingmoonmoon ofc moon is the first one i think when the topic "best writers" come up, i freaking love her and everything she does its not even fair to pick one thing so im picking 3, this super passionate toji work that i re-read at an alarming frequency (which btw i consider my own personal gift). yakuza choso and yuki aka the hottest duo ever. the cherry on top is her kishibe series (just realized i gotta catch up on)

@rinhaler - luxe is def on my top 3, she comes up with very organic scenes. even if it's a simple plot she can develop it so originally. I recently read her underground fighter!sukuna and i'm still thinking about it.

@laudthingcat has the best headcanons in the jjk fandom hands down, it’s the perfect dose of hot funny and cute, pick anything from her masterlist it’s guaranteed you’ll have a good time reading it. when you moan their name in your sleep in particular gives me butterflies

@meownotgood is obviously the best aki writer out there, you can see the love for aki in their words and how they write him so well and so into character. arrival in tokyo is truly a masterpiece, they also have a +100k words series i've been wanting to read for a while but i want to rewatch chainsaw man first hehe, i'm 100% sure is fire tho.

@kentoangel roma writes choso like she's in love with him and you can tell. shes always on my for you and even her snippets are *chefs kiss* special kudos to stepbrother!choso

@kentopedia i just realized i'm assigning a writer per character and nanami is definitely rylie's. the domestic lovely way she writes him makes me forget canon.

@tojisun another blog that is very often on my for you page. cannot talk about toji fics without bringing up sun, everything she writes about him has me furiously nodding. not to mention simon and konig, just talking about them makes me wanna run to her blog and binge read everything

@chocochipsushi 's bodyguard toji is unforgetable to me, i wish i lost my memory so i could read it all again for the first time. bodyguard toji is the definition of living rent free in my mind, whenever i have to deal with annoying coworkers i immediately think “bodyguard toji would not allow them to talk to me like that”

@suget one of the greatest geto writers for sure, they have so many geto works, i was going through their blog to find the one i read more recently and there was so many others i haven’t seen! another writer i could very easily spend a whole day binge reading. btw this cult leader one was recommended to me and i fell in love with it <3

@staryukis has the cutest gojo drabbles

@tonycries brooklin baby was recommended to me by moon and it had me by the neck! also they have many other works im hoping to read soon as well

@mommypieck isayama created reiner but they created subby reiner

@titan-fodder ‘s the tinniest notion The Best Reiner fic in all the existence of the universe (tw: stepcest kinda?)

@nanaslutt mma!toji made feel every emotion possible so intensely

#jjk x reader #yes i’m adding the tag cause i think everyone should visit those blogs kay #recs #— mailbox 💌

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suzukiblu · 1 year ago

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Five headcanons for Plot Bunny, for “a fake cryptid and a real romantic”.

Listen. LISTEN. Tim is not in any way a magic-user, okay? Just gtfo, Constantine, let him do his perfectly normal detective work here. The Batman is handling Gotham and HE is handling the Batman. No they DON’T need help with the magic thing!! He is a ROBIN, he doesn’t need MAGIC to–okay fine JASON was a magic-user, yes, obviously, but Dick just made a few Roma charms and took advantage of the occasional superstition here and there, and TIM just OCCASIONALLY summons the Batman and that is ALL, okay? So don’t go getting your weird greasy nicotine-stained magic all over their setup, their setup works as it IS and the Batman HATES it when you summon him ANYWAY, at least let ZATANNA do it, UGH!!

Superboy has learned that some birds do flight displays as part of courting behaviors and is SUPER hype about that as being a thing he can definitely do for Robin, but mildly confused about how Robin doesn’t actually, like . . . seem to fly himself? Well, maybe he needs to try harder?? Like, to convince him it’s worth it?? He can do that! He can definitely do that!

Dick left the nest for Bludhaven, which is not Gotham, but oh, how it LOVES him all the same. Bludhaven doesn’t have anything like the Batman in it, but it’s a city alive in its own right, and it is so, so glad to fold its wings around him and give him everything that Gotham gives the Batman. Meanwhile, everyone OUTSIDE Bludhaven: oh god wait is the city-cryptid thing CONTAGIOUS?? Did the Batman MOLT???? WHAT IS HAPPENING WTF IS NIGHTWING, ROBIN WAS BAD ENOUGH, OH GOD ARE THERE GONNA BE EVEN MORE OF THEM–

The Batman is very pleased that his new Robin nests so nicely and is also already stalker-fussing over him and his nice bright plumage from the shadows. He has not QUITE realized Superboy is NOT actually a “new Robin” and is probably going to have a territory dispute with Clark over him while Tim quietly dies of mortification in the background, lbr. Clark is like “Batman, please, I need my clone back” and the Batman is like “fuck off, he’s my ROBIN!!”, except in screechy eldritch hissing. Superboy just appreciates being included. :)

No one has any idea what Pennyworth actually is, including both the Batman and Gotham, and Dick and Tim aren’t TOTALLY sure if Pennyworth is even really a thing that can or could exist separate from the Batman or might, like, be intending to eat them all one day, but Jason understood EXACTLY who and what “Alfie” is.

#plot bunny #meta ecetera

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bruisedboys · 2 years ago

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THE DARK NIGHT—

ok this prompt is a lil long but just use it for the vibes if that makes it easier okok i love u

“your head is so numb. that nervous breath you try to hide. between the motions. that trembling tender little sigh.” w/ peter parker!!

this is sooo omg. I love u for this roma. also this is not that good I’m sorry :(

fem!reader 0.5k words

It’s 5pm and Peter’s already got you in his lap. Really, you can’t blame him. You’d looked so pretty when you got home from work he couldn’t keep his hands off you.

He’s already managed to get you out of your work blouse. Unbuttoned it all the way down while you’d kissed him silly, then pushed it over your shoulders onto the floor and kept right on kissing you.

He kisses you languid and messy, drinking you up like he’s been deprived of you for days. He hasn’t. He’d seen you just this morning. But it feels like it’s been forever.

Peter thinks you’re even more eager than him tonight, which is saying something. You’ve been all over him, hands on his neck and chest and waist. Lips hungry and unforgiving. Now, your hands glide from his shoulders down to his hips and then you’re slipping them beneath his shirt. Peter suddenly decides he needs a breather.

“Y/N,” he breathes out, sounding like he’s just run a marathon.

He pulls away and you try to chase his lips with yours. It’s insanely cute and a little (a lot) attractive. Peter holds you back with one hand on your sternum. You stop searching and open your eyes.

“What?” You ask, sounding similarly out of breath. Peter can feel your heartbeat under his hand. It’s racing. “You don’t want me to touch you?”

Frowning, you pull your hands away from his skin. Peter misses your touch immediately.

“No!” He says quickly, his tone taking an embarrassing desperate edge. “No, that’s not it.”

With his free hand he takes your wrist and guides your hand back to the hem of his shirt. You look very content with this. You slide your hand under the fabric and spread it over Peter’s stomach. Peter tries desperately to hide the nervous breath that escapes his lips.

“What is it, then?” You ask.

Peter feels your thumb stroking over the fine hairs on his stomach and just about loses his mind. He struggles to get the next words out.

“Um, I—I just need a breather,” he manages. The stuttering makes his already hot face grow hotter. “My head feels numb.”

You squint at him and shuffle forwards on his lap. Your hand finds his forehead and you push your fingers into his hairline. “Good numb or bad numb?”

Peter feels your thighs pressing against his, your hand in his hair, and it’s all too much. He throws his head back against the couch and lets out a trembling sigh.

“Good numb,” he admits weakly. He’s sure he sounds quite pathetic. He can’t bring himself to care very much, because now you’re giggling like mad.

Peter shoots up. “What’s funny?” He demands. He’s still very hot in the face and out of breath.

“Nothing,” you say, but you’re smiling like it’s something. “You’re really cute, you know that?”

Peter rolls his eyes. You’re sitting in his lap, in nothing but your bra and work skirt, and you’re calling him cute.

“That’s funny,” he says seriously, “I was just about to tell you the same thing.”

You burst out laughing again, peals of sticky giggles rolling from your lips. Peter feels so lovesick his head hurts.

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feinv · 6 months ago

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what do you think john wick would be like at the clubbbb ? oo i’m also curious how you think young! jardani (my beloved) would be. i’m sure even if he’s there as a body guard he couldn’t resist having an okay time

much love and hope you are doing well

- 🦇

young!jw and older!jw lil headcanons.

young!john wick in comparison with older john is way more reckless and experimental.

࿔ he has a goal to try every popular drinks and cocktails, so that’s precisely what he would be doing every time he was at the club. (that’s also how he found out he was a fan of bourbon)

࿔ surely he wouldn’t try the whole menu in one night. 2-3 drinks during each, not enough to get blackout drunk, but enough to make him pleasantly lightheaded, his consciousness still in tact to do it’s job.

࿔ i think young john was less anxious and more social, especially being surrounded by the same people in ruska roma, he wanted to meet others, to engage in conversations and make some new friends, even if he would never see them again.

࿔ it’s also quite possible that he would be making out with someone by the end of the night. i still stand by the fact that he is demisexual, meaning he definitely wouldn’t have one night stands every time he went to the club, perhaps he had one or two, which was precisely how he realized he needs emotional connection involved for any sexual activities. but other than that he wouldn’t have the time either. he was there for the training, he couldn’t afford completely loosing himself in the temporary freedom.

older!john wick is a completely different story.

࿔ he is there for a job and job only, there isn’t anything not work related that could possibly distract him. he earned the title “man of focus” for a reason.

࿔ if he has to do a little waiting or stalking, he would head to the bar and get a glass of bourbon in solitude, his eyes cautiously scanning his surroundings for the target.

࿔ even if his acquaintances from the underworld happen to be in the same club and decide to join him, the conversation would just end in five minutes with john’s yeah’s and head nods.

࿔ i don’t see him as the type to go to the club for a night out. his idea of fun would rather be in a quite and cozy lounge bar or a restaurant with his partner. ideally, he would much rather prefer to just stay in, in the comfort of his mansion where he feels the most safe and can actually relax.

#if anyone calls my sweetheart boring old man i will find where you live😤#—🦇#feinv—jw #john wick headcanons #young!john wick

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gloriousburden · 21 days ago

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People still Tumblr sexyman-ifying Claude Frollo from Disney’s The Hunchback of Notre Dame when he spoke about Roma (or ‘Romani’/‘Gypsies’) in the same manner the n@zis spoke about us. Comparing us to ants and then proceeding to smash those ants to death. Like really? This is the character who’s beliefs you want to ignore for the sake of ‘Wahahaha I need that evil old man’? Like you guys don’t find that at least a little wrong?

🤨

Nothing wrong with finding his character interesting, but watering him down to being an ‘evil old man’ instead of acknowledging the fact that he is pretty much an exact representation of many real life people who’ve caused harm and death to Roma is just plain wrong.

Completely ignoring his morals/actions when they are such an integral part of who he is just to sexualize and woobify him… I just know what kind of person you are.

I know people have been doing this forever and me finding it weird (and actually kind of evil and definitely anti Roma as fuck) isn’t going to stop them, but I don’t know why it’s so widely accepted to ignore his absolutely vile beliefs and actions (which indeed reflect real life whether people want them to or not). You guys do know we really exist and the discrimination is not fictional, right? We’re not some made up ethnically ambiguous group of thieves and performers. It’s not even “Oh okay so this can be compared to anti Roma discrimination” no, it literally is straight up anti Roma discrimination.

You can’t overlook or separate his discrimination from his character. Like this is not one of the cases where you can. You can’t justify it.

But then again, I guess those who overlook his actions because he’s so evil old man plagued by religious guilt 🥹 are able to do so because none of this could be real to them. They could never be the victim of those who follow a similar ideology as him.

#rambling #claude frollo #thond #the hunchback of notre dame #Disney’s the hunchback of notre dame

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dudeshusband · 1 month ago

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Title: Grazie, Prego, Scusi, It's A Breeze Ship: Mike x Joe Ricco Words: 650 Description: Ricco teaches Mike a little Italian.

Mike leaned against Joe as he read the morning paper. They had a robe and fuzzy socks on and still couldn’t seem to get warm.

Enzo walked in, singing something in Italian. He started making himself coffee. Mike strained their ear to see if they could make anything out.

“Joe, what’s he singing about?” Mike asked.

He made a noncommittal noise. “Nothing. Just some little Italian folk song.”

Mike rubbed themselves against him. “Joe, when are you going to teach me Italian?”

“When?” he asked incredulously. “What’s this about when? You never asked me.”

Mike looked into his big, brown eyes, behind his big turtle patterned glasses. “You call me an Italian pet name and you were never going to tell me any other words?”

He shrugged. “You know what orsetto means. I figured you were looking for a boyfriend, not a teacher.”

Mike tilted their head. “Joe, you talk to the fishermen in Italian, you talk to Enzo in Italian, you wish Angela and Nino ‘good night’ in Italian and I’m the only fool standing here clueless.”

He laughed. “Okay. What do you want to know?”

“What was Enzo singing about?”

Joe waved a hand. “Ah, something about the streets of Rome.”

“Ciao is hello, isn’t it?”

“It’s also goodbye.”

“Scusi is ‘excuse me’, ‘prego’ is please, and ‘grazie’ is thank you,” Mike recalled.

“Looks like you got your Italian from one of those crooner types,” Joe teased gently.

“Bambina is ‘girl’, Bambini is children…I’m trying to remember if I know any more. Oh, yeah! Non dimenticar…don’t forget…”

“Nat King Cole or Jerry Vale?” Joe asked.

Mike shook their head. “Um, buona notte, good night. I learned that from you.” “Amore mio,” Mike added. “My love.”

“Are you sure you need my help?”

They ignored him.

“Arrivederci is goodbye too. I’ve heard you use that one,” Mike continued. “Roma is how you say Rome, right?”

Joe nodded.

“Tesoro, darling. See, I can vaguely flirt but I can’t ask about the weather.”

Mike continued recalling words. “Perdoname. Pardon me. And then there are words I can sing in my mind but don’t know the translation of.”

“You’re not too bad. You’ve picked up a lot by being my partner.”

Mike shrugged. “I was bound to. Regazza…girl too, right? Signora, ma’am, and signore, sir?”

“Mm hmm.”

“Teach me how to count?”

“Sit in my lap and I’ll teach you,” he told them as he patted his lap.

Mike obliged him. He wrapped his arms around them and sighed. Mike’s heartbeat slowed and they closed their eyes.

“Uno,” Joe whispered to them. Mike inwardly laughed. Yes, of course. Then, he pressed a kiss behind their ear. Mike’s heartbeat quickened again. Was this his idea of flirting?

“Due.” Kiss.

Mike took a deep breath. How could he still turn them to mush?

“Tre.” Kiss.

Quattro. Like the Spanish. Kiss. Cinque. Kiss. Kiss.

Wait? Six was…?

“What- what was six?”

Joe chuckled at their bright red face. “Sei, dolcezza.”

Mike frowned. “You stop that! Stop that right now, old man.”

“Hey, you wanted me to teach you how to count.”

Mike huffed. “I didn’t see flirting in the terms and conditions.”

He smiled. “What’s the point of a partner if I can’t flirt with them?”

They pouted. Joe only kissed them again.

“Are we still going? Sette.”

Seven. Kiss.

“Please don’t tell me we’re ending at a hundred!”

He held them tighter and nuzzled into their neck. “We can if you want.”

“I think I’ll be dead on the ground by then.”

Joe shook his head fondly. “You’re so sweet. Sometimes it’s hard to think you’re 31.”

Mike huffed again. “Don’t get started on that!”

“Carina.”

“I don’t even know that one!”

“Come on, let’s get to ten, huh?” Joe whispered in their ear. Mike shivered.

“Okay.”

“Otto.” Kiss. Nove. Kiss. Dieci. Kiss.

“Ti amo. We should do this again sometime, huh, orsetto?”

“Next time I ask you about the weather!”

#typewriter dings #yesss i wrote this just now #j.r.#self ship #self shipping community

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danlous · 1 year ago

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Armand and the Romani

I’ve mentioned many times now that I think it would be really interesting and fitting if Armand in the show was Romani and that’s my personal interpretation of his character until proven otherwise. I don’t think it’s necessarily very likely going to be canon, especially when writers rarely remember Romani people exist, but like I’ve said this is like the only show in the world I think could be smart enough to understand how deeply the history of race and racism in Europe (which we know they’re going to address) is intertwined with the history of the Roma people, so you never know. I’ve seen an interesting theory that Armand could be a Tatar and I think that’s the most likely route they’re going to go, but I think him being Roma or some other ethnicity is still a possibility. Furthermore, because of the Roma people’s unique history he could actually be both Tatar and Roma at the same time, especially if he’s from Ukraine like in the books (more on this later). I wanted to elaborate on why Armand’s character and IWTV in general resonate with me so strongly, why I think Armand being Roma could bring a lot to the show and fit thematically, and how if Armand had a Roma background it would influence the way he acts.

Just as a foreword this post is long as HELL as I’ll be talking about Roma people with an assumption that most readers don’t know much about them, and it involves heavy generalization by necessity. I want to emphasize that Roma people are a very heterogeneous group that have very diverse experiences and practices depending on where they live, my experiences don’t apply to all Roma, and I’m not speaking for all Roma. I don’t know much about the Roma in France or Ukraine (which would be relevant for this conversation) other than what google can tell me and I don’t really trust it because much of the information you find on the internet is written by non-Roma people. So when I say something is a part of Roma culture, I mean really that it’s in my subjective experience a part of the traditional Roma culture in my country. The customs may vary a lot even between families in a same region, and the modern Roma and those with mixed ancestry (like me) don’t always follow traditions. I feel I need to stress this because there are a lot of (often negative) misconceptions of the Romani and I don’t want to further contribute to them or just replace them with different misconceptions. Content warning for discussion on sexual and racial violence and the Holocaust.

The history of the Roma people

The Romani (also called Roma, Rom and other variations) are a traditionally nomadic ethnic group originating from the northern India. The Roma are often confused with other itinerant people like Irish Travellers and the Yenish but are a separate group. Note also that the word ‘gypsy’ is considered pejorative and most Roma people dislike being called that, and the Roma have nothing to do with the country of Romania, the names are etymologically unrelated. The Roma people are divided in many different subgroups, and many facets of the Roma culture are easier to understand if you know that it was originally a clan culture like many nomadic cultures.

The Romani diaspora has spread to everywhere in the world (the biggest Roma populations are in U.S and Brazil) but is the most concentrated in Europe where they came through Persia in the Middle Ages, with most European countries today having a Roma minority of 0,5%-8%. The Roma population is estimated to be 10-15 million, but nobody knows for sure because many Roma aren’t included in censuses, many Roma people choose not to disclose their ethnicity due to discrimination, and some people who have Roma parentage don’t identify as Roma. The Roma identity is strongly tied to the community. A person who’s adopted or marries into a Roma family may in some cases be considered Roma regardless of their ethnic background, and an ethnically Roma person who doesn’t have connection to the Roma community and doesn't follow traditions might not be considered a real Roma (in practice the latter situation is much more common than the first one). This is relevant when talking about someone like Armand who if we follow the books was taken from his family when he was young and adopted by a white man. Regardless, the Roma are Europe’s largest ethnic minority. I don’t think statistics really matter in a fantasy horror show but it would be the most likely scenario for someone with Armand’s appearance who was born in the 1500s Europe to be Romani.

I assume the show Armand’s character and story may be largely similar to the books based on what we’ve seen, him just having been older when he was turned into a vampire, though it's unclear is he still from Ukraine. In the episode 2 we see him refer to his prayer in a language that Daniel thinks is ‘Kazakh, or 'somewhere in the Crimea’. Wikipedia suggest that it’s actually Uzbek, though we don't know does it mean Armand is definitely from Uzbekistan. Regardless, him using this language without even thinking when talking about his praying makes me think it may be his mother tongue, and we’re probably meant to think that he’s from the Eastern Europe/Central Asia region. I’m personally suspecting he could still be from the Ukraine region like in the books considering they had Daniel think of Crimea. Him using the name Armand Marius in France which is essentially a patronym also makes me think that he could be from a Slavic country. If he was Roma or from other nomadic tribe he could’ve also easily spent time in several countries. Although there is Romani language that is related to Sanskrit, most Roma speak as their native language whatever is the majority language where they live. Many Roma speak multiple languages, especially if they’re nomadic. From what we’ve seen of Armand speaking, Assad does a great job at making his accent vaguely sound like many different accents but not quite like any of them.

One of the ways the Roma are a unique group is that they’re one of the very few ethnicities in the whole world that don’t associate themselves with any country or place. Typically, even other nomadic peoples have some distant homeland or place they see themselves as connected to. The Roma don’t feel connection to any specific country or place; they have no homeland and they don’t want one either. Although in people’s perceptions the Roma are practically synonymous with free-spirited wanderers, most Roma in the modern time are sedentary, and historically when the Roma people have wandered it has often been because of persecution or trying to make a living, not by choice. Freedom and independence are important values for the Roma people, but more in the sense of being allowed to be themselves and live how they want, not necessarily physical roaming. It’s much more common for Roma people to dream of stability and having a home and secure job than of being able to wander.

Many of the perceived modern problems among the Roma can be traced to the change of work and industry from the late 1800s to the early 1900s. The industrialization and urbanization made most traditional Roma professions such as blacksmiths, craftsmen, horse traders, animal trainers and travelling salesmen and entertainers obsolete. Even though there was always prejudice against the Roma they also used to be respected for their expertise on those areas and there was positive interaction with the majority population too. Then suddenly they lost the chance to practice their old professions but lacked societal and monetary capital to learn new ones, which led to mass unemployment and poverty that still exists today. This not fitting in the modern society is a common Roma experience. In the books I feel this is reflected when the vampire characters seek ways to connect with the modern world and humanity. Armand sees Louis as such possibility, but as he in the end tells him ‘You are as cold and distant from me as those strange modern paintings of lines and hard forms that I cannot love or comprehend.’

The Roma people are defined by the dichotomy of being perpetual outsiders who never fully integrate anywhere, and on the other hand being chameleons who adapt anywhere. They often adopt the customs, language and religion of the majority population, while maintaining their own. The Roma have likely been in Europe for at least thousand years, and the earliest records of them are even older. Despite this the Roma have arguably never been fully a part of any wider society or fully accepted. It can be talked about the Roma society rather than just the Roma culture, because the Roma people often form almost a separate parallel society wherever they live. It’s common that the people from the main population don’t have any Roma friends while the Roma people don’t have any friends in the majority population, and the Roma may have little interaction and connection with the wider society. The Roma have been ostracized, but because of this long ostracization the Roma also don’t trust in the society around them and may try to limit their interactions with the majority population. As a Roma you can feel like you live behind a veil that separates you from the rest of the world and you can’t really touch and see each other. Many Roma experience the sense of profound loneliness and of rootlessness, a feeling like you don’t have the past or the future and nothing really matters. Everything above makes Rice’s melancholic, drifting, existential vampires very relatable to me.

The Roma people have been and still are associated with crime, dishonesty, uncleanness and supernatural. The Roma have often been accused of witchcraft, satanism and stealing children. Depending on the time and place people have tried to either banish or forcibly assimilate the Roma. In many countries it was legal to kill a Roma person without impunity. Historically The Roma have often been slaves or otherwise forced into labor or prevented from moving freely. For example, in Romania the Roma were kept in chattel slavery for centuries over 500 years until 1860. The first Roma in America arrived there as slaves too. Interesting in the context of the show, Spain sent Roma slaves to their Louisiana colony and at least according to Wikipedia there is an Afro-Romani community in St. Martin Parish due to intermarriage of African American and Romani slaves (I would’ve been interested to read more about this but couldn’t find much online sources). In the books Armand was abducted by the Tatars to be sold as a slave. Nowadays the term Tatar is used for different Turkic ethnic groups, but historically it was used to refer to anyone who came from the Northern or Central Asia (Tartary). The Roma people were also commonly known as Tartare/Tattare, as they came from the East too. Coincidentally some Roma are thought to have arrived in Europe as slaves of the Tatars or the Mongols. At the same time the Crimean Roma and the Crimean Tatars have a very close and unique history to the point that the Crimean Roma are commonly considered a subgroup of the Crimean Tatars. So it would actually be possible that Armand is both Tatar and Roma, especially if he comes from that region!

2. The Romani culture and relations with other people

The Roma people are often highly fetishized and oversexualized, and viewed as promiscuous and manipulatively seductive, which can also be seen in how Roma characters are depicted in popular culture. Roma people continue to be victims of sexual assault and trafficking at very high rates. Roma women are often assumed to be prostitutes or sexually available. When you see news about human trafficking in the Eastern Europe, both labor and prostitution, the victims are often Roma even though it's rarely mentioned. Many consensual sex workers are also Roma, but most of them likely wouldn’t be sex workers without poverty and if they had other opportunities. Roma children experience sexual abuse much more frequently than children of the majority population, and they're often viewed as more mature and manipulative than they are. This all reminds me of how in the books Armand was sexualized by nearly every person he comes across even when he was a child or teen. Taking Roma children from their families to exploit them or to assimilate and ‘take the gypsy out of them’ in one way or another has always been common, nowadays this often happens in the guise of child protection. Here in Finland even 50% of the Romani children in 1950-1980 were placed in state care institutions, and this continues to happen in many countries. The less fantastical version of what Armand went through with being abducted and sold and exploited by everyone including his ‘savior’ who tried to sanctimoniously civilize him is what has happened to countless Roma children over the centuries.

The traditional Roma cultural practices can be considered (when heavily oversimplifying) to be built on three pillars that are connected to each other: respecting elders, concepts of purity and impurity, and honor and shame. Most cultures probably consider respecting old people important but in the Roma culture this is deeper and more extensive than usual. Older people are treated and spoken to with very high respect, people often address even their own parents with the formal ‘you’. Being older is on itself seen as a sign of authority and younger people must always listen to their elders. This respect shows up in everywhere in daily life in both practical and symbolic ways, older people take the food first, if the house has more than one floor the younger people don’t live in the rooms above older people, shaking hands with or sitting next to an older person may be considered inappropriate because they imply an equalitarian relationship etc. It’s very difficult for a young Roma person to say no to an older person or express anger or anything that could be seen as disrespectful. The Roma culture has anarchistic qualities because the Roma don’t necessarily acknowledge the state’s authority, and intracommunity hierarchies are quite fluid and decentralized, but the older people’s higher status over the young ones is seen as obvious and natural.

Cleanness is another aspect that is very central to the Roma culture, in both literal and symbolic sense (ironically, since the Roma are often seen as dirty). The Roma don’t expect non-Roma to follow or even be aware of their complex system around it (mentioning this because I know some people fear that they accidentally offend Roma if they do something wrong lol). The Roma consider the body above the waist ‘pure’ and below it ‘impure’, and things that touch them are kept separate, and all objects are categorized according to their perceived cleanness. For example, when you come from the grocery store the shopping bag can’t be put on the floor or chair, you can’t sit or lean on the table, hats and shirts are not put on chairs, if a kitchen utensil falls on the floor it may be thrown away instead of washed because it’s now considered unclean etc. Kitchen is the purest place and is kept as clean as humanly possible. The clothes of men and women and people of different age groups are washed separately. When a Roma person grows old they become ‘pure’, and people are particularly considerate not to tarnish them, for example a younger person can’t sit on an older person’s bed and if they sleep in the same room their feet can’t pointed at the older person’s direction. In some circumstances an impure person may be temporarily or permanently banished from the community. The importance of cleanness in the Roma culture goes back to preventing illness in the traditional nomadic lifestyle, and it’s speculated possibly to even further in history in India where the Roma people’s ancestors’, the lowest caste Dalits, responsibility may have been to handle corpses and other unsanitary jobs.

Contrary to the stereotype the Roma are usually highly modest and anything ‘below the navel’ stuff (sex, pregnancy, periods, bodily functions) is rarely discussed. The Roma men and women don’t talk about them at all with each other if they aren’t a couple, and parents don’t usually talk about sex or dating with their children. Casual sex is disapproved. Oral and anal sex are considered unclean. Although Roma people often marry very young (sometimes underage) it’s usually with people of the same age group, people of distinctly different generations having romantic or sexual relations or even talking about sex with each other is a taboo. For example, if there’s something sexual on television the younger people may leave out of respect if there are older people in the room. A pregnant woman may hide it even from her own parents. Much of the Roma customs focus on ‘keeping face’ and maintaining respectful relations with the other Roma and their surroundings and avoiding anything that would bring shame, and this shame can touch the whole family.

Now if we come back to Armand, if he’s a Roma that adds a new aspect to his trauma, especially pertaining to sexual abuse and his relationship with Marius. Sexual abuse and grooming like that are hard to for any child to process, and especially difficult and confusing it would be for a Roma child, when in the Roma culture older and younger people even talking about sex is seen as offensive and older people’s wisdom and authority are seen as absolute. When in the Roma culture sex itself is taboo and wrong kind of sexual activity can make you ritually unclean it would further worsen the trauma that started from his kidnapping and cause immense shame. Since the old people are considered purer than young people a Roma child might also feel like they’re soiling the sexual abuser and blame themself. Death and touching dead bodies is considered unclean as well; a vampire would always be ritually impure. The way Armand is exposed to sex in Venice is pretty much the polar opposite of how sex is treated in the Roma culture. In the books we see Armand struggle with his complicated feelings about Marius and how he resents him but can’t still stop loving him and seeking his approval, or often can’t even express his negative feelings openly. I think it sounds familiar how many Roma people want independence but still feel obligated to respect their elders even if doesn’t always feel right.

I think this respect for elders also shows in how Armand treats Daniel in the show. He’s quite polite towards him and very considerate in trying to make sure he’s comfortable. Although Armand is in his servant disguise for most of the season 1, he notably keeps talking to Daniel in a pretty similar way after he drops his disguise. This maintaining the appearance of respect even when you’re angry at the older person is typical for Roma people. Armand is chronologically much older than Daniel, but Daniel is still physically an elderly person which is seen as automatically deserving high respect in the Roma culture. Armand and Daniel possibly having some sort of romantic relationship in the past complicates their dynamic.

3. The Romani from the WWII to now

It's hard to convey how extreme the prejudice and hate towards the Roma people is still in the 2020s Europe. Majority of people have highly negative views on the Roma. In the polls most respondents say they don’t want to work with or employ Roma people and wouldn’t want their child to date anyone who’s Roma. Majority of the Roma live below the poverty line, often in segregated slums around cities or villages in countryside, many of them without electricity or running water or access to other basic services like healthcare. Depending on a country the life expectancy for Roma people is 7-20 years smaller than for the majority population. Housing for Roma people has been a big problem for a long time, with many Roma being homeless or living in subpar settlements that the officials often destroy and force Roma to move. Nobody wants to rent or sell to Roma people or be their neighbor, so the Roma population often segregated from the majority population. Illiteracy is still common. Many Roma children don’t go to school; if they do, they’re often put in special classes or special schools where they’re separated from other children and receive substandard education. If they receive proper education they can’t get a job because nobody will hire Roma people. Many companies and places refuse to let Roma people enter. Hate crimes and police violence are common. As a Roma you can feel like you’re leprous, nobody will talk to you or come close to you.

Typical for anti-Romani racism is that people don’t see it as real racism and consider it justified and something that Roma people deserve. There also isn’t much difference how left-wing and right-wing people view Roma. Racism against Roma people is widely accepted and normalized regardless of political affiliation. In Europe the Roma are singled out and many people who aren’t (at least on conscious level) racist towards other ethnicities still despise Roma people. A case that has stuck with me and I feel embodies how the Roma are dehumanized is from Naples, Italy in 2008 where the beachgoers continued their day sunbathing and picnicking near the bodies of two drowned Roma girls. Though anti-Roma racism exists everywhere, it’s where the European hypocrisy is its most obvious. The Europeans often talk about the history of racial segregation, slavery and ethnic cleansing in other places like it’s something distant and absurd to us, when systematic segregation continues to be everyday to Roma people here in the present day.

The position of the Roma people is unique because much of the discourse around racism in Europe is focused on immigration and assumptions that people of color always come from 'somewhere else', but the Roma’s ancestors have often been here as long as the white Europeans’ ancestors. Racism against the Roma people predates the modern concepts of race, scientific racism and the modern imperialism and colonialism. The Roma are a large group that certainly hasn’t been living in an isolated bubble separate from the rest of the world and they’ve had a significant influence on the Europe’s culture, but they and their suffering are often invisible and many people are completely ignorant of it. The Roma have oral tradition and there are few Roma politicians, journalists or scholars so they lack platform to make their issues known. The Roma have become a sort of permanent underclass in Europe.

We know that the s2 takes place in the 40s in the immediate aftermath of the WWII and deals with it in some capacity. The hatred towards the Roma people can be seen as having culminated during the WWII when anywhere from 250,000 to 2 million, or 25% to 80% of the European Roma were killed during the Holocaust. The figures vary so much because the Romani genocide is severely understudied, we don’t know how large the Roma population was, and there weren’t as meticulous records of the Roma victims as there was of the Jewish victims. The Romani genocide (sometimes called Porajmos) has often been treated as an afterthought but for the Roma people it was absolutely devastating. The Roma were classified as racially inferior and were killed in concentration camps and in shootings by mobile killing squads. Roma people were often sterilized and used for medical experiments. In some countries like Croatia and the Netherlands practically the entire Roma population was destroyed.

After the war there was little sympathy for the Roma. Many Roma became stateless refugees, and Germany didn’t acknowledge what happened to the Roma as genocide until decades later, which prevented the survivors from seeking restitution. The post-war trials didn’t cover the crimes against the Roma people. Attempts to assimilate the Roma and wipe out their culture continued in many countries. There still isn’t widespread acknowledgement and understanding of the Romani genocide and how it’s a direct cause for the Romani people’s current situation, even within the community. Deep poverty, illiteracy and lack of education and social institutions has led to there not being full consciousness and collective memory around the Holocaust among the Roma like the Jewish people have.

What happened to Roma varied a lot from country to country. France has always been rather hostile to the Roma, and it was also a ‘forerunner’ in the modern racial discrimination against them because it started to register Roma in the early 1900s and giving them ID cards that categorized them differently from other travelling workers. During the World War II some French Roma were deported to nazi-run concentration camps like Auschwitz, but most were detained in internment camps in France that were created under the nazi authorities but run by the French authorities. Although not technically extermination camps, their living conditions were similar to concentration camps and thousands of prisoners died from disease and hunger. After the German occupation ended the internment camps stayed in operation until 1946, two years after the liberation. The special Roma ID cards were used until the late 60s. Some people have noted how in the show Santiago seems to work as the ‘front’ for Theatre des Vampires while Armand stays in the background. I think it’s likely related to their races in any case, but this arrangement makes sense especially if Armand is Roma because it would be very diffcult for any company or organization to be openly led by a Roma person in France during the WWII, and the years preceding and following it. Even in the 2020s many people and companies refuse to do business with Roma people, and back then it would’ve been dangerous. Also, whether Armand is Roma or not, many people are probably going to assume he is when seeing a South Asian looking French man, so that’s going to be in subtext regardless.

I think all this would make Louis strongly sympathize with and relate to Armand – and also to see him as more vulnerable and less dangerous than he really is. However, Armand might not see the things in the same way. After Louis is turned he still feels on personal level engaged with what is happening in the society and feels anger over injustice and continues to see black people as his people even when he becomes increasingly distanced from the community. But when a Roma person is taken away from the Roma community they’re not necessarily perceived as Roma by other Roma or even themselves. You might never become a part of the wider society either, you just become ‘no one’. Armand might not think of Roma as ‘his people’. Because the Roma already see themselves as outcasts and separate from the rest of the world and people, for someone who becomes a vampire that could mean complete emotional disconnect.

Perhaps because the Roma perceive themselves as separate from the wider society, it’s not typical for Roma people to be interested in politics or activism or influencing the wider society at all. This is a big generalization because of course there are Roma activists and Roma organizations, especially since the 70s, but by and large Roma people tend to be more or less apathetic towards politics and analyzing the forces behind it. Many Roma don’t vote (and needless to say many countries make it difficult for them) or participate in politics in any way. Political movements, rebellions and revolutions mean nothing to the Roma people. Every so-called revolution or change either has had no influence on the Roma people’s life or made it worse. The Roma people don’t trust non-Roma people, and the organizations and movements have usually been uninterested in involving Roma people anyway. As someone who is interested in politics and activism when I try to talk about stuff with any other Roma person I often get a ‘why does this matter’ or ‘what does this have to do with us’ reaction. The Roma are very used to their situation because they can’t remember or imagine it ever being different, and they often have an attitude that could be described as ‘it is what it is’. Armand might not feel similar anger Louis feels. Armand’s indifference and distaste towards societal institutions is reflected in the books too:

Armand would also perceive his own and Louis’ race differently than Louis does. For the Roma the world consists of people who are Roma or non-Roma (Gadjo). The Roma don’t really make differences between different races, they’re all Gadjo. When Armand meets Louis he would see him as a Gadjo man before black man, which I imagine could start to feel invalidating in the long term. The Roma tend to be sympathetic towards any outcasts and accepting of different people, but I think many Roma are also rather ignorant of different cultures and struggles, and they don’t necessarily feel automatic connection with different racialized people. The Roma perceive their experience as unique and something non-Roma people can’t understand. In the end all this means the way Armand views the world could actually be closer to how Lestat views it, and Louis might not find the solidarity and understanding he's hoping for.

4. The Romani family, kinship and spiritual practices

Religion and spirituality are very important to many Roma people. Here in Finland most Romani are deeply religious, much more so than the majority population that is pretty secular. Most Roma are Christians or Muslims, mostly different Christian sections in the Western Europe and Islam in the Balkans. The Roma in Ukraine are mostly Orthodox Christians or Muslims, so that would fit too if Armand was raised as a Muslim and didn’t convert later. Relationship with God, seeking forgiveness and sense of purpose, and someone who accepts you as you are, are something that Roma people commonly long for. The Hunchback of Notre Dame should never be used as an example of good representation and I swear this is the last time I’ll ever mention it anywhere, but I always thought this song captures surprisingly well something of how many Roma people feel. Armand’s intense and desperate relationship with religion and the spiritual struggle he and other characters go through is something that is very relatable to me.

With the lack of social structures, stability and purpose, for many Roma people the family and faith are the two most important things in the world. Without them the Roma have nothing. I think this is painfully clear with Armand who was separated from his family and culture, raised by a man who abused and then abandoned him, and literally lost his humanity and connection with God. Both other characters and Armand himself often describe him as this endless empty, hungry void that he is always trying to fill himself with something. Armand is prone to cult mentality and being manipulated in his intense yearning for emotional and spiritual connection.

I think Assad described Armand well when said he isn’t well-versed in the language of love and romance, but he does want it desperately. The Roma’s approach to romantic relationships is complicated because the strict rules of modesty around sexuality mean that they’re not usually explicitly discussed and even married couples avoid showing any affection in public. Historically Roma people have often been prevented from getting officially married so they have developed their own marriage rituals that vary by a country. Although the Roma take their relationship commitments very seriously legal marriage isn’t usually seen as important in the Roma culture and Roma couples may not get married at all legally.

The Roma are also one the very few cultures where in some countries like Finland the institution of marriage doesn’t really exist. The Romani here may get married sometimes but it’s seen as entirely unimportant and doesn’t have any bearing for the relationship, there usually isn’t a wedding or any rituals associated with marriage. A couple who’s committed to each other is seen as having the same status as a married couple. My paternal grandparents have been together for over 50 years and have never been married. Louis’ relationships with both Lestat and Armand would be considered marriage in the Roma culture. Because there aren’t well-established rules of dating and courtship in the Roma culture, forming romantic relationships can be difficult for Roma people. I’m thinking of Armand deeply wanting love but the way he approaches it often being awkward or offputting.

Family is the most important thing and the center of life in the Roma culture. The Romani culture is traditionally patriarchal and considering the importance of age, in practice the ‘leader’ is usually the oldest man of the family. The women’s position is complicated. Men and women are considered to be equals in the Roma culture and older women and their opinions are respected like with older men. Divorce is usually acceptable and isn’t seen as shameful, many older Roma women I know also have children with more than one man and it isn’t seen as a big deal. The ideal Roma woman is intelligent and emotionally and physically strong. At same time there have been and often still are distinctly divided roles for men and women in the Roma culture. Women are responsible for taking care of everything in the household and men for everything outside the household. The man of the house listens to their wife and children’s opinions but he has the final word. Men are expected to be the providers and protectors of their family and it’s something they base a lot of their identity and self-worth around – the most important thing really. I feel we can see a dynamic like this with Armand and Louis - Louis obviously isn’t a woman but he’s much weaker and younger (again, age being very important in the Roma culture). When watching s1 you think Armand is a servant, but if you look any closer, even without knowing it’s a performance, you notice what’s actually happening is that Armand is organizing and taking care of everything in their life. Later he tells Daniel how he’s protecting Louis like always with such a pride.

Another thing I think is worth mentioning that from my experience in the Roma culture physically disciplining children or women is and has been less acceptable and normalized than in the Western and many other cultures. It just isn’t done much, even my grandparents have said they don’t remember their own parents ever hitting them. This doesn’t mean that there isn’t domestic abuse in the Roma families, sadly it’s common in some regions, but it isn’t usually seen as normal and acceptable by the community. The Roma don’t like to involve police but there are many cases where an abusive man has been banished from the community. Also compared to many other cultures it can be less difficult for a woman to leave the man if she’s mistreated, since divorce is accepted and independence valued. I would say that when in most European countries there has often been an attitude that as a man you have a right and even responsibility to hit your wife and children, in the Roma culture it has been more like ‘a real man doesn’t do that’ and if they do they try to hide it. Roma men often perceive themselves as being more respectful towards women than Gadjo men are. When you combine all this - patriarchal society, older men having power over their family being seen as a normal and good thing, but disapproving overt violence within family – I think it would be very easy for Armand to convince himself he isn’t abusing or hurting Louis and is treating him right and being better than Lestat.

Art is very central to the Roma culture, especially music, dance and artisanship, but also other forms like painting and theatre. The first known records of the Roma people already refer to them being musicians. Travelling theatre companies like the one Lestat run away with when he was young were often formed by Roma people. Armand was a talented painter and his love and search for beauty is something that always remains in his story. I found it interesting that this s2 Claudia poster was seemingly inspired by Carmen, one of the most famous Roma characters, and maybe flamenco dancers in general (flamenco being developed in the Roma culture). It tells me that they seem to at least be aware that the Roma people exist if nothing else.

The Roma appreciate beauty and the finer things in life, sometimes in a way that can appear materialistic to the non-Roma people, but the Roma themselves don’t perceive it so. It’s not uncommon that the Roma who’re poor or even homeless still own some jewelry or a nice car. If the Roma people are actually rich they like to show it and are generous in sharing it. Wealth has often been unattainable to the Roma people, so if they have it they don’t see a reason to hide it. Historically the Roma also haven’t trusted banks so they prefer to keep their wealth in physical form. With Armand who grew up in poverty you can see how he appreciates luxury and likes to shower his loved ones like Daniel and Sybelle and Benjamin with it too (again, being a good provider is very important for the Roma men). Sidenote this is another reason why I think the Dubai house’s sterile minimalist interiors were not Armand’s idea because no Roma person in the world would ever decorate their house like that lol.

The way the Roma people traditionally dress differs from the majority population, and their appreciation for beauty and wealth is visible in it too. The clothing has been a way for Roma to show their identity to both other Roma and other people. The rules of modesty influence the Roma people’s traditional clothing and they often avoid showing knees and elbows and the shape of the body. Younger people often wear lighter and older people darker colors. Especially Roma women have dressed in very distinct ways depending on their tribe, for men it’s usually more subtle. The typical Roma men’s every day clothing includes suits, black or white dress shirts, loosely fitting black trousers, vests, hats, ruffles and golden jewelry. Armand’s styling in the show both in the flashbacks and Dubai caught my attention. While there’s nothing exclusively ‘Roma’ in his outfits almost all of them could easily be worn by a Roma man. Most likely it means nothing but knowing how good costume designer Carol Cutshall she would probably try to be accurate.

In the Roma culture referring to dead people by their name and showing their pictures is avoided. Traditionally the remaining family moves out from the house where they lived with the dead person, and the person’s belongings and images are burned or otherwise destroyed after their death (at least in Finland this is still sometimes done). It’s out of respect but I think it’s also a response to generations of trauma where there has been so much death and suffering that Roma people need to forget and move on so they can continue living. In the books Armand treats death in the same way; when he loses someone he stops talking about them, sometimes even thinking about them. When he’s abducted he doesn’t mention his father (who he assumes is dead) again and forgets even his own name, because the child he was before he was taken doesn’t exist anymore. Despite being so needy he often just leaves things behind and keeps on moving, like when he simply walked away from Louis. The Roma aren’t prone to nostalgia and they don’t like wallowing in the past or worrying about things that might or might not happen either, it’s all seen as a luxury they can't afford. It still doesn’t make it just disappear. The deep hidden sorrow that Armand and many other characters of the series always carry with them resonates with me as a Roma.

Lastly, I want to emphasize this is all just random theorizing and I’m happy regardless of whatever Armand’s background ends up being! I also know some Roma don’t want Roma portrayed in fiction made by non-Roma people at all because they don’t trust it to be done well. There’s also a problem with Roma characters usually being played by non-Roma. IWTV is an exception to me personally because I have an unusually high level of trust in this show’s writing, I love and relate to Armand’s character, and I think Assad Zaman looks like he could believably play a Roma man instead of the usual casting of a white person who looks ‘exotic’. However, like I said in the beginning there isn’t any proof Armand is actually going to be Roma and for now this is just headcanoning and speculation for fun. I also want to say that I hope I didn’t give an impression that Roma people’s life is like constant misery because that definitely isn’t true! There’s a tendency to see the Roma only through their problems when there are plenty of happy and successful Roma people and there has been improvement in the Roma people’s situation even though it’s slow. I also think one of the Roma people’s strengths has always been that they can find joy and humor even in hard circumstances.

If you got to this point I salute you thank you for reading!

#interview with the vampire #iwtv #i'm not joking how insanely long this post is if you still read or even just skimmed it through i'm kissing you on the mouth #i considered splitting it in two posts i hope it's even distantly coherent and not super boring #also if you have any questions i can try to answer lol #mal watches iwtv #iwtvposting #armand #.txt

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