#Sure Church BaD but what about empty stomachs?

[randomnameless]

Supreme Leader thinks she can help the less fortunate when she's a pampered rich girl who's never known hardship. Yeah uh-huh sure.

I wouldn't say she cannot do it because she has never known hardships that come with being "less fortunate", but more like saying she will fodder them if it serves a greater purpose speaks way more loudly about her goals.

Earlier bloggers said Supreme Leader's idea of "the people" is a sort of monolith or an abstract notion, she's not talking about Bob and Carl, who are going to be foddered, but about future "The People" that will come to exist after her War (or at least that's the plan).

So the Lonato line "I too would sacrifice my randoms" and starting an effing war are, imo, the biggest reasons why her claims about helping the less fortunate are only smoke.

[valley-of-headcanons]

Heyy! So I just found your stuff and it’s all super cute I love this kind of thing 😊 feel free to decline but do you think you could do a little fluffy one shot type thing where you’re just gaming with Sebastian and then whoops you both fall in love 😳

best gamer of all time || sebastian x reader oneshot

hanging out with your friends is always fun, but gaming alone with him may be your new favorite thing <3

warnings: fluff fluff fluff fluff oh my god, you may suck at this game but you do NOT suck at winning his heart

requested by: @juleboo , this is such an adorable request! i'm sorry this took like forty billion years, life has decided to kick me off my feet, but im doing a lot better so yippeeeee. i hope you enjoy, hopefully it was worth the long wait 🙏

Hanging out on a Saturday night was a ritual for you, Sebastian, Abigail, and Sam. You all rotate on who's place you hang out at, and tonight was Sebastian's. Abigail was laid out on the couch, Sebastian sitting on his bed, and you and Sam were on the floor. After a very intense game of Jackbox, with a lot of chaotic answers and laughter, it was nearing midnight.

“I cannot believe you put that! That was a direct jab at me and you know it!” Sam said towards Abigail's direction, obviously not actually upset.

“Then clean up the fuckin' pizza boxes in your room! That rat would've become your best friend if your mom didn't find him- wait- what time is it? ... oh shit, my dad is gonna kick my ass!” Abigail said, jumping up at lightning speed and grabbing her bag. “Sorry to kill the party, love you guys, if I get lectured one more time this week I am going to pull out my hair. Bye bye!”

And off she goes, leaving just as chaotic as she came. Sounds about right. The remaining three of you laughed, before Sam stood up and grabbed his things as well. “For some reason Mom wants me to come to church in the morning, she saw some lyrics to one of our songs and she kind of flipped her shit. Soooo, gotta atone for my sins. Have fun you two,” he said, sending a small wink Sebastian's way before making his way up the stairs.

You saw the wink, it definitely caught you off guard. You immediately snapped your head towards Sebastian. “What was that for?” you said with a smirk, which wasn't held for long. It slipped into a smile, moving from the floor to the now empty couch.

Sebastian's expression remained neutral, rolling his eyes. “Sam is always up to something, ignore him. Do you wanna stay and hang for a little while? I don't have anything to do tomorrow,” he said, looking towards the cabinet of games that sat beside his gaming console. He never asked anyone to stay later, especially when it's his night to host. He usually wants everyone out, Sebastian cherishes his alone time.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach when he asked you this, he actually wanted to spend more time with you? You felt so honored and special, of course you were going to stay. “Yeah, what did you wanna do?”

“I bought a game, it's co-op. Wanna try it out? It's a platformer, it seems pretty easy,” he said, walking over to the cabinet and grabbing the case. He made his way back over to you, showing you the back of the case, carefully studying your features. He wanted to make sure you were actually interested, and when your face lit up, he couldn't hold back a smile. It was rare for him, but it was perfect.

“Hell yeah, let's pop this bad boy in!” you said, sitting up excitedly and scooting over so that you two could share the couch. After 'popping that bad boy in', he sat next to you and handed you the controller.

Sebastian put on the tutorial before beginning to show you the controls. He described what to do, but due to your drowsiness from working all day, you just couldn't grasp what the controls were. “Here,” he mumbled, thinking for a moment before carefully putting his hands over yours.

“Alright, shoot with this button, alright?” he said, making sure not to get too close to you. He didn't want to make you uncomfortable, but these little touches were really nice ... he could get used to this.

“Mhm ...” you hummed, although your brain was short-circuiting. Every single thought in your brain was rendered useless in that moment, every place where you two touched felt like it was on fire. You clumsily tried to recreate his movements, shooting when he asked and jumping when he instructed. You learned the controls, but barely.

“Got it?” he said simply, slowly beginning to let go of you. He didn't really want to, but he didn't want to overstep your boundaries. He really cared about you, he didn't want to jeopardize that.

With a hesitant nod of confirmation, you two began the game. It was a mess, you definitely did not grasp the controls whatsoever. However, he enjoyed seeing what kind of trouble you got yourself into. How could you even get up there?

“Okay- when you jump, press the trigger to latch on to that cliff, and do NOT let go-” he tried to explain as you jumped with all of your might ... just to not even touch the cliff. Your body hit the floor with a splat, and you both sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at each other. Small snickers turned into full blown laughter, falling down onto the couch as you both held your faces.

“How the hell am I so stupid?? That was so easy! How the hell did I miss that??” you cackled, wiping the tears that began to fall from your eyes.

“I have no idea but it was one of the best things I've ever seen,” Sebastian's laughter began to quiet as he sat up, his gaze making its way down to you. You looked so perfect in the soft light of the television, so happy from the laughter that was encasing the both of you. He could not stop smiling.

“What?” you said softly, a gigantic grin on your face. You couldn't move, you just wanted to stay in this moment forever.

“... nothing. Just ... capturing this moment,” Sebastian said in a gentle tone, taking a deep breath before looking back at the screen. “You're a ghost now, but you can still help me and eventually I can revive you.”

You slowly sat up, but you had an idea. You slid a little closer to him than you were before, your legs touching. “Alright, I'll be the best fuckin' ghost in town,” you laughed, knowing you were bound to fuck it up but you had no care in the world. This was too fun.

He looked over at your legs touching, smiling even wider before continuing the game. He would ask you to do things as a ghost as you did ... with enough trial and error. He did notice that you kept adjusting and scooting closer and closer. He really liked this.

“Do you know how to freeze someone?" he asked, which you shook your head to. “Let me see this-” he mumbled, wrapping his arm around you, definitely just wanting to help you see the controls. You were essentially sitting in his lap at this point, a soft pink blush creeping onto both of your faces.

His face was so close, pressed almost right up against yours ... you wanted to stay here forever, but you didn't want to say anything that would ruin the moment. Nervous silence held you two for a moment, before he did something that both of you wanted more than anything. He carefully kissed your cheek, before going back to the game as if nothing ever happened.

Your brain melted, a feeling of bliss overtaking your body. You've been waiting for that for ages. You slowly leaned back into his chest as he laid down his controller for a moment. He wrapped his arms around your waist for a moment, giving you a careful squeeze. You reached your arms up around his neck, hugging him back. Neither of you cared about the game anymore.

“Stay here tonight. If you want to,” Sebastian muttered softly, holding your body close to his. He didn't dare let go, and neither did you.

You stayed there that night, you stayed wrapped up in his arms until the daylight and you had to work on your farm. But you hoped one day, you could wake up next to him everyday. Maybe someday, but for now, you had many Saturday nights where you stayed over later than everybody else.

[anonimusunnoaniswriting]

𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈, 𝑴𝒚 𝑳𝒂𝒅𝒚 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝟑

(𝑺𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒏 𝑴𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒔 𝒙 𝑹𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

⚠️MDNI. 18+ ADULTS ONLY⚠️

🎀Age in bio or blocked🎀

Rating: Mature

Category: F/M

Fandom: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler

Relationship: Sebastian Michaelis/CielsCousin!Reader

Characters: Sebastian Michaelis; Reader

Summary: smut smut some more smut just smut scenes. all the smut.

Additional Tags: Fluff and Smut; Sex; Vaginal Sex; Eventual Smut; Neck Kissing; Kissing; Gentle Kissing; Surprise Kissing; Making Out; Implied Sexual Content; Phantomhive manor; Reader-Insert; Victorian

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 3: 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝕭𝖚𝖙𝖑𝖊𝖗; 𝕬𝖙 𝕸𝖎𝖉𝖓𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙

“Sebastian!” you moan and he pumps his fingers in and out of you. His long digits feel their way inside you, rubbing against your squelching, gummy walls. You can’t help but gasp, feeling them curl inside you. 

His mouth is against the skin on the nape of your neck and you feel him smirk. His hand plays with your breast, pulling and teasing your already hard nipple. You’ve never even heard of these things being done to a woman. Lewd, degrading, but at the same time, it feels so good! 

When you had heard the older ladies gossip about these night-time, bedroom, activities, they always spoke of how it was such a chore, and how men would just do what they had to, leaving them feeling unsatisfied to the point of irritation. Sebastian was the antithesis of these stories. He gave pleasure instead of only seeking it himself. Constantly making sure he helped you feel good. 

“If demons are like this, then perhaps being tempted is not truly such a bad thing as the church states…” you thought to yourself, feeling yourself melt under his fingertips.

He releases his clamp on your skin with a loud ‘pop’, and he looks at you and smiles. “You’re being so patient and good for me, my lady.” There's a flash of white fangs and his voice is low in your ear, punctuated by the repeated wet sounds from your pussy. 

A shiver runs down your spine that has nothing to do with the fact that he is still playing with you down below. “Keep being so good for me, darling, and you will be rewarded,” he says and plants a kiss on your forehead. You nod. He lowers his head and pulls one of your nipples into his mouth. Your skin is like burning ice, and the heat of his devilish mouth burns like the flames of hell. Your body writhes. You move to his rhythm, following his unspoken orders. A pressure builds up, starting low in your abdomen and Sebastian hears his name whispered in near reverence as you clutch at the bed sheets. You can feel yourself reaching the precipice of this pleasure. The dam is about to break; the water will spill in a matter of moments; and suddenly Sebastian is gone. His fingers aren’t in you anymore.

You cry out in surprise and dismay. The lack of Sebastian’s touch makes you feel so empty. He chuckles. His lips come down on yours again. “Now now, I can’t let you finish up so early can I?” he tells you gently brushing his lips against yours. 

 He unbuttons his trousers and removes them with his underclothes and the rest of his clothes. His cock stands already hard and dripping precum. Leaning over you he kisses you between your breasts, then your stomach,  your navel travelling all the way down to your clit. He peppers kisses all over you while his cock hovers just outside your entrance, lightly brushing against it. You shiver in anticipation and stroke his hair.

“Sebastian,” you whine, “Please!” He chuckles again, darker this time. You close your eyes as you feel him enter you. You’ve had him before but only once. His size is still novel, you feel the painful stretch. Your hands find refuge in his hair as he continues to push in. 

Though he is gentle, you can't help but feel a few tears escape. Sebastian dips and licks them off your skin, savouring the salt. You are divine. Exquisite. He pins you down by the waist, effectively making sure he is the one to control the speed and force of his introduction. Your fingers are entangled in his hair; he growls when you pull at it, and bites down your collarbone. There is sure to be a mark there tomorrow morning but you don’t think about that, because Sebastian has now entered you to the hilt.

He stills, allowing you to adjust to his girth, “Is this okay?” You nod, raising your hips to encourage movement from his side. Understanding you, Sebastian now lowers his head down to kiss you softly before starting to move. There is a slight pain but a quick-blooming feeling of pleasure. Whatever he had built with his fingers had not disappeared completely, waking up again with a few thrusts. He moves his lips to your neck and you arch your back, feeling sharp teeth against your skin. He picks up the pace. Sebastian never fails to pay attention to details. His hands are all over you. Touching you, feeling you – as if he can’t get enough. He leaves a trail of fast-cooling wet kisses over your body. 

“Is this good for you?” he groans in your ear. 

“Yes! More, please!” You moan out breathily. You have been waiting for this for so long. 

His thrusts get harder, cock bullying your cunt. You cannot fathom what makes this man so attractive. He has you under his spell, as if knowing you for the longest time. A scholar, studying you intimately. With every touch, your body responds to him. Back arching, head thrown back. And then there was that knot inside you. The pressure that just keeps building each second. 

You drag your nails down his back, hearing him growl darkly against your jaw where he had been marking you with little bites; his tongue licking away at your pliant skin. He kisses down to your earlobe, taking the soft skin into his mouth, sucking on it. You feel yourslef  getting close; your climax is imminent. You cry out the demon's name, desperation clinging to each syllable. In response, he rides into you faster, his cock hits your inside walls hard. You let out a scream and immediately his hand is on your mouth silencing you.

“My lady,” he says softly, “As much as I want to hear you sing for me, this is not an opportune time for it. Someone might hear....” He chuckles as if it is a funny joke, but you cannot spare the time to think about that. Every move overwhelms you. And here you are at the edge, and the man above doesn’t seem any different from his usual calm, put-together self.

“Sebastian…” you let out an animalistic groan, raking your fingernails down his back. You feel him shudder and then without warning he puts his hand down to where he had entered you. You felt him touch something, and then – an explosion of fireworks. Everything is a blur. Your eyes shut and you see the strange wriggly worms swimming across the darkness behind your lids. Your hips reach out to his body of their own will; you ride out your orgasm on his cock, bucking and keening.  You have to have died. No, it can’t be real. What you feel is nothing like you have ever known. 

As you come down from your high, Sebastian withdraws from inside you gently. “Wait, Sebastian. You haven’t reached your climax yet!” you protest. You may have been new to the art, but you had overheard things– enough to know this.

“I don’t wish to wear you out my lady.” Sebastian says, wiping the sweat from your brow. You look at the man. His hair is a mess suffering – in your vice like grip. His back is marked with the thin red lines your nails had bestown. But otherwise he looks impeccable. And there you were, ruffles and bundles. A sheen of sweat on your body and a sticky wetness between your legs. 

You shake your head, “Please Sebastian. Tell me what to do, teach me how to make you feel as good as you have made me feel. I want you to reach the finish as well…”

Sebastian smiles. Getting off the bed he says, “All in good time my lady. But for tonight, you have had enough. I do not wish to overwhelm you, and end up hurting you. I will take care of it myself.” He reassures, flashing you his signature smile. 

It surprises you how bold you have gotten around him but you pat the down beside you, earning you a puzzled look from the man. “I insist, my lady, I ca—”

“Yes, you can. However, I’d like to watch while you do… Please, if you don’t mind. And I would very much like it, if you held me for the night after you did.”

“Very well, my lady.” Sebastian says, his smile widening. He lies down beside you, positioning himself so you can watch, and runs his hand over himself. You stared, transfixed on the elegant movements; questioning how an act that is considered so vile by the people of society could be made to look so beautiful in reality. The long fingers and the contrasting dark nails on his length are mesmerising, and your jaw drops as you stare. 

You move towards Sebastian, and getting on your knees you put in your own hand, not fully realising what you are doing till you hear Sebastian’s voice saying, “My lady?” You shake your head and mimic his movements, stroking the warm shaft. His breathing turns short and quick much like yours had been just a little while before. “Faster, please” you hear Sebastian say, and you comply. “More, squeeze it, gently.”

Your small hands follow his every order. You can feel him getting harder than ever as he gets closer to his own climax. He stutters and white sticky liquid squirts out from his cock spilling over your fingers. You stop, staring at it wide-eyed. 

“Would you like to taste it, my lady? I’d like you to.” You looked at Sebastian. His eyes are heavy-lidded, and glowing red in the darkness. You face him, a stray strip of moonlight slicing across your naked body, the only source of illumination in the room. You stick out your tongue and run it over the liquid on your hand. To say it tasted good would have been a lie, but something about the act was so erotic that you couldn’t stop. 

A shudder under you and you know Sebastian liked it too, so you continue; putting a finger into your mouth and sucking, licking. Sebastian grabs your hair, and pulls you down onto him kissing you. “You are so beautiful.” He says, sucking on your bottom lip. “So absolutely gorgeous, I can’t believe it!”

Suddenly fatigue is hits you and you slump into his embrace. You can feel yourself winding down. Sebastian lays you on the cool sheets, he moves to get up. “Sebastian, don’t go…” you plead softly.

“I’m right here, I’m just getting a washcloth to clean us up.” He replies. He’s back before you know it and a warm cloth presses against your legs. You spread them for him and he wipes you down, cleaning himself off as well. He lays down beside you and you feel your thick blanket cover you. Sleep slowly pulls you under 

“Sebastian?” you murmur.

“Mhmmm? What is it, my lady?”

“What time is it now?”

“Midnight.”

A/N: We aren't done. There's more to come darlings.

Likes and Reblogs are much appreciated and comments will fuel the writing engine.

Masterlist

[allthingsfangirl101]

Rarely Stunned – Gator Tillman

Gator's POV

I've known Y/N all my life. To be fair, just because I knew her doesn't mean I was friends with her. We were in the same class all through school, but I've never had a real conversation with her.

Y/N was known in town as having the most beautiful voice. She sang in the school choir and the church choir. They begged her to do a solo when she was only 13. After that, the whole town fell in love with her. Every family wanted their son to marry her and every boy our age wanted to be with her. I was the only one that people thought wasn't into her, but that was a gigantic load of bullshit.

Of course, I was into her. She was the only one in school who didn't treat me weirdly because of my dad. She was sweet to me. She once told me that she didn't want me to become like my father. She believed I could be better.

I sat in my dad's car in the grocery store parking lot, waiting for him to hurry up and buy the beer. I sucked on my vape, blowing the air out the window. He hated it when I made the car smell like my vape.

My breath got stuck in my throat causing me to chock in the smoke in my mouth when I saw Y/N walking out of the store. I couldn't help but follow her with my eyes as she went to her car. She opened the trunk and started putting bags in. Suddenly, a bag broke making her sigh. Her frustration made me jump out of the truck. I jogged over and started helping her pick up the items that fell.

"Thanks, Gator," she sighed. "But I can pick this up."

"I don't mind," I shrugged. "I'm trying to be a gentleman."

I looked up and smiled when she laughed. "Gator Tillman, a gentleman," she chuckled. "That's not something you here often."

"I'm not all bad," I mumbled. I looked up, my breath getting caught in my throat when I saw the way she looked at me.

"I know that," she said gently. We had an intense staring contest until my dad interrupted it.

"Hey! Gator, get your ass in the truck!"

"Sorry," I mumbled. I cleared my throat before looking up at her. "It was good to see you, Y/N."

"You too," she blushed. "Thanks for the help, Gator."

When I got in the car, I turned to see my dad smirking at me. "What?" I sighed.

"Are you trying to steal Y/N away from that prick, Donny?" My dad laughed.

"What?" I scoffed. "One of her bags broke. I was just helping her pick up her groceries. I wasn't trying. . . Wait, she's dating Donny? The fucking water boy?!"

"Not for long," my dad said in a sing-songy voice. "Got get her, tiger."

* * * * *

The rest of the night, I couldn't stop thinking about Y/N being with that dweepe Donny. He wasn't good enough to play on the football team but the coach was secretly sleeping with his mom so he made him the waterboy. Y/N didn't deserve that nerd. She deserved someone who could take care of her. It made me so angry I got drunk.

I woke up to an immediate hangover. I sat up and slowly got ready for my shift. I went about the day like it was any other. Responding to random calls and vaping in between. That was until I got a certain call.

"We got a 417 in progress," dispatch said.

"Got it," I answered. "Where?"

They listed off the address, but something felt strangely familiar. I ignored it and drove to the address. When we went to the door, it was opened.

"That can't be good," I mumbled. We went in, guns ready. We went in different directions and swept the place, but it was empty.

Until I walked into the living room.

My stomach lurched when I saw her. Y/N was on the floor of the living room, passed out next to a destroyed coffee table. I felt like everything froze as I watched the puddle of blood slowly grow. I lowered my gun, unable to move.

"Sir, there's no one here." My partner's voice dropped when he saw her. "Except her," he said slowly.

I finally snapped out of it. I put my gun back in my holster and ran to her. I collapsed next to her, not entirely sure what to do.

"Get a medic!" I yelled. "Now!"

I turned back to Y/N, my eyes scanning her body. I carefully reached forward and moved some hair out of her face. The second I touched her, I felt how cold she was.

"Where the hell is that medic?!"

My breath got caught in my throat when I heard her groan. "Y/N?" I dropped my voice. "It's me. It's Gator. Open your eyes for me, Y/N. Please."

When she still didn't do or say anything, I continued, "You're safe. I swear, Y/N, I will find whoever did this to you and I will keep you safe. I promise. Just, please, wake up."

I held my breath as I waited. Finally, Y/N's eyes weakly and slowly fluttered open.

"Gator?" She said my name so weakly it broke my heart.

"I'm here," I said quickly. "I'm right here."

"Gator," she repeated my name.

"Medics are on the way, Y/N. They're close. Just hang on a little longer. Please."

Y/N reached for me and I instantly grabbed her hand. "Don't leave me," she said weakly.

"I'm not going anywhere."

* * * * *

I sat in the waiting room, nervously bouncing my leg. I kept glancing towards the door, wishing a nurse would walk through it with news on Y/N. I was ready to storm over to the nurses' station, flash my badge, and demand for them to tell me what was going on with Y/N. The second someone came out, I approached them.

"How is she?"

"She's awake," the nurse said kindly. "Follow me."

I was right at her heels as she walked down the hall. When she got to the door, she stepped aside.

"Go on in," she said. She smiled before lowering her voice and adding, "All she has asked for is you."

My heart jumped into my throat as she winked at me and walked back to the nurses' station. I took a shaky breath as I gathered my courage to open the door. I slowly put my hand on the handle and walked in. My breath got caught in my throat when I saw her asleep on the bed.

Y/N was covered in bruises and dried blood. She had an oxygen tube, the one that went into her nose, and an IV in her arm. Watching her sleep, my anger built. I didn't know who did this, but I knew what I would do when I found them.

Seeing that she was sleeping, I started to leave her room.

"Gator?"

I froze when she weakly said my name. I spun around, instantly making eye contact with her. I quickly walked over to her and sat on the extra chair in her room.

"How are you?" I asked, my voice soft.

"Tired," she tried to smile. "And sore."

"Speaking of which," I hesitated, "can I ask you some questions about what happened?"

"I guess so," she shrugged. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach when she gasped in pain as she readjusted.

"We don't have to do this right now," I said quickly. "You should get some rest."

"It's fine," she sighed. "Ask away."

"Okay," I started. "Can you tell me what happened?"

"I was. . . I didn't. . . I didn't get the beer he liked."

"Wait, what?"

"I could only find. . ."

"Donny beat you because you brought home the wrong beer?! That son of a bitch," I yelled. I stood up and started running out of the room.

"Wait!" Y/N yelled. I froze in the doorway and turned around. She had tears streaming down her face as she opened and closed her mouth. "Gator. . . Don't leave me. Please. He could come back. . . Please stay."

I instantly returned to my seat and grabbed her hand. "I won't leave until you feel safe," I whispered. "I promise."

She smiled weakly at me before falling back asleep. Just like I promised, I stayed by her side until my dad walked in.

"What the hell. . . Ohhh." He started to get angry but laughed when he saw whose hospital room I was in. I let go of her hand, stood up, and turned around.

"The officers told me you went to visit the victim you found today while responding to that 417," he smirked. "I thought you were batshit stupid. But now? Now I get it."

"Dad," I sighed.

"It's a good plan," he interrupted me. "You found her, brought her here. Any girl would fall for the guy who. . ."

"Donny's the one who hit her."

The look on my dad's face changed. "Her boyfriend did this?" He asked under his breath.

"Yeah," I sighed. "He got angry because she bought the wrong beer."

"Wow," my dad scoffed. "He's. . ."

"A fucking asshole," I finished for him. "I swear, I'm gonna find him and I'm gonna shove my gun so far down his neck that he'll. . ."

"Calm down, tiger," he laughed. "I'll have some officers go pick him up and take him to the station. Then we'll help Y/N get a restraining order against the dick. And, if you want, I'll have my friends make sure he leaves this town and never comes back."

"What am I supposed to do?"

My dad looked behind me before putting his hand on my shoulder. "Why don't you tell the girl you've had a crush on since you could walk that you'll never hurt her and will do whatever it takes to keep her safe?"

"But. . ." I stuttered.

"Go show her that she can bring whatever beer she wants to your place," he smirked.

"Dad. . ."

"Tell her that she can have a better life with you." He patted me on the shoulder before leaving.

"Gator?"

I spun around to see Y/N awake. "Hey, you," I smiled. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm fine," she said slowly as she looked at the hallway. "Was that your dad?"

"Yeah," I said clearing my throat. "He heard what happened and wanted to know what he could do to help you."

"Really?"

"Of course," I said, walking over and sitting next to her.

She looked down and nervously played with her hands. I knew what question she was avoiding asking me. To help her, I decided to answer the unansked question.

"He's sending some officers to arrest Donny," I explained. "We know some people who can help you get a restraining order."

"That's not going to work," she said, her voice dropping.

"What do you mean?" I asked, scooting the chair closer to her bed.

"I've tried." When she looked up at me, she had tears in her eyes. "He knows people, Gator. People. . . people on the police force."

"Who?" I asked through my teeth. I cleared my throat when I realized how demanding that sounded. "I mean. . . I can make it stick. If not, we'll just get rid of him."

"Wait, what?" Y/N panicked.

"I'm kidding," I said quickly. I cleared my throat and lowered my voice. "Listen to me, Y/N. He is never going to hurt you again. I swear."

"How can you be so sure?" She whispered.

I ignored the butterflies in my stomach as I reached over and gently grabbed her hand.

"I will not let him hurt you," I said as seriously as I could. "If he wants to get to you, he'll have to go through me."

"Gator," she whispered. "Why are you. . . Why would you do that for me?"

"Because," I stuttered, "you're. . . and I. . . Well. . ."

"Gator," she gently cut me off.

"I like you," I forced out. I watched as her eyes widened.

"You what?" She asked, her voice soft.

"I like you," I sighed, knowing there was no turning back. "I know this is horrible timing, but I've had feelings for you for such a long time. Donny doesn't deserve you, Y/N. To be honest, I probably don't deserve you either. But I can try. I can take care of you. I can protect you. I can give you a good life. I can. . ."

Y/N grabbed my face and pulled me toward her, bringing my lips to hers. As soon as our lips touched, I started kissing her back. Without breaking the kiss, I sat next to her on the bed. I pulled her into my arms, not wanting to let her go.

When we broke the kiss, we were both out of breath. "I'm sorry, Y/N" I mumbled. "Donny broke some of your ribs. You need rest. Not some guy climbing on top of you."

"I wouldn't object to a certain guy climbing on top of me," she giggled as she played with my shirt. She looked up at me through her eyelashes, making my stomach do flips. "Gator?"

"Yes?" I asked quickly.

"You promise you can protect me from him?"

My stomach sank at her question. I pulled her into my chest, wrapped my arms around her, and relaxed us into the bed.

"I promise to protect you from Donny and anyone else who tries to take you from me."

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Here’s a request for Abraham as I only just found out who he is and I already would let him spit on me. He’s in the pub where he sees a girl with big boobs and a cheeky grin, he follows her out. Maybe she leads him to the stables? And he fucks her good and hard against the hay. However, just as he’s about to pull his pants up. He falls on the ground due to reader and she rides him like a pony. Maybe some dirty talk and against the hay he chokes her but while she’s riding him she chokes him. You decide how to interpret this and where it goes from there. Hope you have fun writing!

Hello! First off I'd like to thank you for your patience - I'm sorry it's taken me over two months to fulfil this request, I am slow and I have a lot to work through. Secondly, this request is absolutely bonkers, but I've done my best to fulfil it in my own style. I hope that you enjoy it.

Warnings: Infidelity, choking, fingering, smut. Word count: ~2.6k

It’s a bright and sunny July afternoon on Grantchester Village Green. The sounds of a brass band playing and children’s laughter float on the breeze, yet she is bored. It’s the Village’s annual church fête and every Grantchester resident has turned up to take part and lend a hand. Mr. Ruskin has lent a donkey from his farm to give rides to the children, there’s a tombola offering up various prizes of assorted chocolates and cuddly toys, and games of boules and cornholing have been laid out across the Green, under reams of brightly coloured bunting. She feels like she could scream from the civility of it all.

“Fetch you some more squash?” Robbie asks with a soft smile, gesturing towards her with his empty paper cup.

“No. I’m alright, thanks, love.” She replies, stiffening uncomfortably as he places a chaste kiss to her cheek before heading off in the direction of the refreshment stand.

It’s all so bland. She can’t stomach another cup of tea, another orange squash, another egg and cress sandwich. Worst of all, she’s not sure how much more of Robbie she can stand. They have been courting for almost a year - the perfect match in every sense - he is the Vicar’s son, polite, gentle, and inoffensive. She is the daughter of the head of the Village committee; pretty, well mannered and kind.

Truthfully, she finds Robbie painfully dull. He isn’t bad looking and doesn’t treat her unkindly, he is just unambitious and set in his ways. She had agreed to go steady with him because it was what was expected of her. He’d taken her by surprise when he’d expressed the desire to sleep with her three months into their relationship, and for the first time in all the years they’d known each other she’d actually found herself excited by him. That was until they did the deed and he’d rutted atop her with all the enthusiasm of a captain going down with his ship.

She’s heard the murmurs around the Village, the rumours that he plans to propose. Robbie hasn’t exactly been subtle about it either, the way he gawks in the window of the jewellers makes dread sink in her stomach like a stone, not just at the idea of him asking her to marry him, but the fact that she knows she’ll say yes. It’s what her father wants for her, and living somewhere so small, where everyone knows everyone and all their business, she doesn’t want the reputation of the girl that broke a good Christian boy’s heart.

A future as Mrs. Robert Chambers, wife of the vicar’s son, Village postmistress, daughter of the head of the Village committee. Boring, boring, boring.

Life in Grantchester had suddenly become more interesting when he had rolled into the village; part of the Romani settlement that had taken refuge in one of Mr. Ruskin’s fields. The locals had treated them with suspicion and hostility, such was the attitude to newcomers, especially travellers. However, something about him intrigued her; his slicked back hair, dazzling blue eyes and cocky smirk made her heart race, worsened by the fact that whenever she’d seen him around he always managed to catch her eye and send her reeling with a wink. 

She’d never dared to speak to him, yet she feels her breath hitch as she notices him and five of the other Romani men approaching the Green.

“Here comes trouble.” She hears her father sigh as he steps forward to approach them.

She gently grabs his arm. “Dad, leave it,” She pleads. “They haven’t done anything.”

“Not yet anyway.” Robbie says as he returns from the refreshment stand with a refilled drink.

“They’ve as much right to be here as anyone else.” She fires back, watching as the group sit themselves on nearby picnic benches.

“I’d like to see what sort of contribution they’ve made to the Church or Village.” Her father mutters darkly.

As if on cue, the eldest of the group stands from the picnic bench and walks over to Mr. Chambers, depositing a handful of coins into the money box he holds. 

“There’s fifty pence from each of us there.” He tells the Vicar.

“Very generous of you, thank you.” Mr. Chambers responds with a bow of his head.

“See?” She says to her father. “Just leave them.”

As the afternoon progresses, the group is rowdier than anyone else at the fête. The sounds of their jeering and raucous laughing drowns out the tuba and trumpets of the band, earning them glares from everyone else in attendance. However, they keep to themselves, doing nothing more scandalous than using the picnic benches to arm wrestle one another.

She’s taking a walk around by herself, watching a group of children toss bean bags at each other with squeals and shrieks when she spots him, leaning against an outbuilding and swigging from a labeless brown glass bottle.

He winks at her when he sees her and she feels her cheeks heat up.

“Having fun?” He asks with a raise of his eyebrow.

“Not really.” She says with a soft laugh.

“Tea and sarnies not your thing then?” He smirks at her and it sets off a fluttering in her lower belly.

“I can’t imagine it’s yours either.” She says with a shrug. “What’s your lot doing here?”

He sniffs, taking another swig from his bottle and offering it to her. Tentatively she takes it from him, a shiver running through her as their fingers brush for the briefest of moments.

“We’re moving on tomorrow. Figured we’d come pay our respects before we push off.”

She is unable to mask her disappointment at this revelation, her eyes widening as her heart sinks. “Tomorrow?! You’re leaving..?”

He leans in, his blue eyes locking with hers. “You gonna miss us?”

She takes a long drink from the bottle in order to avoid having to answer the question, spluttering around the acrid burn of the liquid in her throat.

He chuckles, taking it back from her as she coughs and wipes her mouth. “Pal’s home brew. Put hairs on your chest, that will.”

She whips around when she hears Robbie calling out for her.

“Go on then, run back to your little boyfriend.” She has to suppress a gasp as she feels the hotness of his breath against the shell of her ear, how closely he’s moved behind her in order to lean down and whisper to her.

She swallows thickly, walking away before turning back to him. “I didn’t catch your name…”

“Abraham.” He tells her, with a mock two fingered salute.

“Nice to meet you, Abraham. I’m-”

“-oh I know who you are. Seen you around.” He interrupts, eyes roving over her form appreciatively.

She bites her lip, feeling the heat return to her cheeks and turns back to rejoin Robbie and her father.

The next hour passes uneventfully, until she hears raised voices coming from the area where the donkey rides are being given. Curious, she moves closer to see what’s happening. She’s surprised when she sees Abraham squaring up to Mr. Ruskin.

“It’s my animal, I think I know best how to look after it.” The farmer says angrily.

“And all I’m saying is that if you’re gonna have the poor fucker carting kids back and forth all day, the least you can do is give it a drink!” Abraham spits back.

The two men stare each other down, until eventually Abraham turns around and walks away. She thinks he has left and is bitterly dismayed that she hasn’t had the opportunity to speak to him more, when fifteen minutes later he turns with a bucket of water, setting it down near the donkey’s hay bales.

Mr. Ruskin grumbles at this, telling Abraham to clear off, but makes no moves to take the water away. She smiles at this, she knows nothing about this mysterious man, yet it’s endearing to see how he cares for animals.

She doesn’t see him again for the rest of the day and it’s only as things start to get packed down for the evening that she realises his group has left. The bucket remains where Abraham left it and she decides she’ll return it to him, emptying the water out onto the grass before turning to let her father and Robbie know what she intends to do.

She thinks better of it as she sees the two of them grappling with the hinges of a long folding table, struggling to collapse it. Probably for the best that they don’t know where she’s going. She takes the bucket, heading off in the direction of the farm.

Abraham isn’t hard to find. He stands in a stall of the stable, running a brush along the back of a chestnut coloured thoroughbred. He is bathed in the orange glow of early summer evening, the dying sunlight plays upon the sharpness of his features, making him appear ethereal.

“He’s beautiful.” She says, making sure it’s the horse she nods towards as she approaches.

Abraham grins when he sees her, continuing to brush out the horse’s coat. “He’s alright. Still needs a bit of work, but he’s fast. Should be fit for racing soon.”

“Mr. Ruskin doesn’t mind you keeping your horses in his stables?” 

He laughs drily, tossing the brush to one side and stepping out of the stall. “He told us to. Pitched a fit when he saw the state they were making of his field.”

She nods in understanding, watching as he brushes his hands off on his trousers.

“So what brings you to me?” He asks, leaning against the door of an empty stall and eyeing her closely.

“Oh,” She steps forward, holding out the bucket. “You left this. Thought you might want it back.”

He takes it from her with a smirk. “Right, because Ruskin couldn’t have brought this with him when he brought the donkey back…”

She feels herself grow hot again, opening and closing her mouth as she struggles to formulate a response.

“Why are you really here?” He closes the gap between them, a predatory glint in his eye.

“I don’t know what you mean.” She whispers, feeling arousal seep between her legs, warm and sticky, as he grips her lightly by the tops of her arms, turning her and backing her into the empty stall.

“I think you do.” He says lowly, fingertips tracing her jawline, the pad of his thumb passes slowly across her bottom lip, pulling slightly. “See, I think that little boyfriend of yours isn’t fucking you the way you’d like him to, so you thought you’d come see if I could do a better job.”

“N-no!” She stammers, fighting to keep her composure, as her stomach feels as though it’s doing somersaults.

“Oh?” He cocks his head, the hand not cupping her jaw moves, pushing the skirt of her dress up her thighs. “You a good girl then? Tell me to stop.”

She knows she should, but what she should do and what she wants to do are at direct odds with each other, so she says nothing, her chest rising and falling quickly with the rapidity of her breathing.

“That’s what I thought,” He utters, inhaling sharply as his fingers come to stroke over her clothed centre, feeling the dampness there. “Good girls don’t soak through their knickers like this for boys like me.”

It’s then that he finally presses forward to capture her lips with his own. It’s like no other kiss she’s ever experienced before, as his mouth moves with firmness against her own, parting to slip his tongue alongside hers, it feels like he is staking claim to her. She clings desperately to his shoulders, whimpering as she feels him push her underwear to the side and slowly sink a long finger inside of her.

“So tight…” He mumbles between kisses, moving his mouth to neck to suckle at her pulse point as his digit curls and pumps within her heat.

She allows her head to fall back with a soft thump against the wood of the stall’s wall as he adds a second, the repetitive strokes across a particular spot deep within her cause her muscles to tense as she bucks against his hand, feeling her belly tighten.

“Gonna come for me?” He asks cockily, sounding pleased with himself. His thumb begins to stroke at her pearl in tandem with the push and pull of his middle and forefingers.

The motion causes the tautness in her to finally give way, a wave of warmth rushes over her body from head to toe, and she lets out a strangled cry as she tightens and spasms around him.

She whines, her knees buckling as Abraham slowly retracts his fingers, but he’s quick to hold her in place by her waist. “S’alright, I’ve got you.” He reassures, keeping her steady until her breathing returns to normal.

The haze from her climax lifts slightly when she hears the metallic sound of his belt buckle unfastening, anticipation causing her breath to come in shallow puffs when it has only just recovered.

“You gonna let me inside, pretty girl?” He questions.

It almost makes her want to laugh, after what he’s just done to her, now he’s asking for permission. She nods feebly, her eyes heavy lidded as they take in the sight of his length as he fists it, long and thick. For a brief moment she wonders how he’ll fit.

“Use your words,” He urges. “Tell me what you want.”

“You,” She whispers shakily, “Want you inside of me.”

He smirks, pressing into her with a satisfied groan and she mewls pathetically as he stretches her open, his grip on her thigh as he holds her open to him is sure to leave bruises.

“Fuckin’ hell.” He grits out, once he’s finally sheathed within her.

He smells faintly of sweat, musky and intoxicating as she holds him close to her. She has never felt so full before, and the roughness of the wood against her back through the thin cotton of her dress, combined with the press of Abraham against her is almost overwhelming. 

Her head lolls to the side and she gasps once he finally starts to snap his hips against hers. He places a hand around her throat, giving the sides a gentle squeeze. “Look at me,” He orders. “Look at me when I fuck you.”

She finds that once she meets his eyes, she couldn’t look away even if she wanted to. There’s a hunger that burns within those baby blues, commanding and insatiable, that keeps her trapped like an animal beneath the intensity of his gaze.

His pace is relentless. The slap of skin against skin mixed with the cadence of the wanton sounds that fall from her lips is lewd, utterly obscene, yet she is too far gone to care or feel embarrassed.

She knows that Abraham is close when his pace falters. He pulls out with a grunt, stroking himself furiously until ropes of his pearlescent spend coat her thighs and lower belly.

He falls forward, keeping a hand pressed to the wall beside her head to stop himself putting too much of his weight onto her, and rests his forehead against hers.

“Fuck,” He breathes. “We should do that more often.”

“You’re leaving tomorrow.” She says quietly, hoping her voice doesn’t betray the sadness she feels.

“So? Come with me.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, brushing the tip of his nose softly against her cheek.

“I can’t do that!” She huffs incredulously.

“Why?” He asks, stepping away, looking for something to help clean them both up. “What’s stopping you?”

She pauses, her brow furrowing as she struggles to think of an answer. Really, what is stopping her? She grins, her future suddenly seeming much less dull.

Read on AO3

More Abraham fics

[livingdeadmlm]

Day 1: Tentecals/Monster Fucking

Warnings: use of ABO terms, light breeding kink near the end, SMut written by someone who has never written it before ‼️‼️CRINGE‼️‼️

Dude thought he could give church just one more time. He’s never coming back again. He arrived at a time when he felt the building was empty so he could have that small amount of peace for himself, he didn’t even know churches were open so late. However, when he heard a scream from the basement of the church and ran to check it out he was met with the sight of a large…. Entity. Its large appendages rushed to his boots and back to the… body, back and forth like an awful ocean wave. 

“Eaugh I’m guessing you don’t talk.” The writing of the meat sacks never stopped. He leaned forward to attempt a closer look at the full look at the creature.

“Let's not be so hasty Dude…” The sunglasses hid his widening eyes as he took a step back. 

His face became a sneer as he tried to find some eyes in the darkness beyond the tentacles…? The voice you spoke with sounded like it could be coming from anywhere in the dark, it almost sounded like it was in his head echoing repeatedly. 

“I can't tell if it was more gross in general or the idea that you have a mouth in there.” his voice trailed off.

“I am something beyond your mind can comprehend but for you, I can maybe take a form you can stomach.” The tentacles retreated and there was an awful wet noise that followed it. Stepping out of the shadows you looked like a normal person well a normal person dressed as a priest. 

“I knew something was up with you Catholics.” Your hands were crossed in front of your chest.

“You people tend to have more trust in these religious figures and, well I need to eat now and then.” Dude laughed “I have some bad news for you but I think you shouldn’t know.” You huffed and passed dude up the steps back to the chapel. Following you up you began to ramble about your time on earth and in the town. 

“I do wish I had chosen a different moral figure in your human eyes, Due to this one I must be prudish or else people don’t think I am the real deal.” Your voice was strained as the building frustration began returning to the forefront of your mind. Dude was shocked, What aliens had sex? 

“Yes we do Dude and it's getting to that special season in my kind’s life where we feel the need to have a family but seeing as I’m here I am stuck alone.” A sigh left your mouth as you started lighting candles that had gone out because of the wind.

“Have you tried taking the whole garb off? Maybe even keeping it on can help you get a lady friend.” Why was he even trying to help you get laid? He should’ve just gone back home by now. Shaking your head, you waved a hand towards Dude. “The women of your humans are quite lovely, however, I prefer the males of your species. They remind me of home much more than the women do.” 

“If I help you would you be willing to help me? It’s been a while for me as well since I got divorced…. Well even during the marriage-” from your human form, the tentacles shot out of your back and held onto any part of Dude they could. It was so quick he couldn’t let out more than a yelp. 

A bit of moisture on the tentacles began to soak through his clothes. Your priest's garb became loose on your body as you stepped closer and closer to dude writing form. 

“Are you sure? This may be more intense than the way your species mates.” Dude nodded 

“I think I know what I’m getting into with these.” He grabbed one of the free tentacles, feeling it pulse in his hands. Two separate appendices made their way up his pant legs slowly tearing the stiff denim off each of his legs that swayed in the air. Whatever your tentacles were covered with seeped out in larger amounts and into his skin. Another pair of tentacles made their way up his shirt slowly caressing every edge of his torso. 

You pulled him into a surprisingly soft kiss, compared to the firm hold of a tentacle held onto his cock. The constant caressing made his brain go fuzzy. The separate appendages were all warm against his body; it felt like more than one person was showering him with affection. Dude looked up to the ceiling being met with the many eyes of the apostles staring in the same direction he was. 

Well, he had to be going to hell for sure now, gay sex in one of the many houses of god was crossing a line. Did it even count if it wasn't another human man? He couldn’t think about it any further when he felt his skin heating up more and more and the cold hands of your human form guided his head back down to you. Tossing his gasses to the side his eyes were half-lidded as he strained against your hold needing something from you, really anything will do.

His hands strained against your tentacles he wanted you closer to him, or to even touch himself. He groaned at the lack of friction you offered. The bottom half of your uniform had fallen off of your human form and left his eyes with a strong set of legs that looked like they were from a painting thanks to the dim candlelight inside of the church 

He felt so outside of his skin, never thinking he would get to a point where he was begging a preacher for anything let alone to please give him more of something. Your lips continued to work against his and he felt dizzy at the lengths your tongue reached into his mouth. His eyes finally wandered to your face. Your eyes were shut but your whole body was against him, so much focus on him. It made him feel self-conscious but any attempts to hide himself were in vain as you easily just pulled his legs open more. Your feet shuffled against the floor closer to the dude's shaking body.

He took his chance to pull you in close, legs wrapped around your hips he took the chance to grind against you. Practically drooling he humped against what he assumed was also your cock against his. He wasn’t the most sure as now the tentacle that was previously dormant had found its way into his boxers and made its way up to his shaft slowly. He couldn’t see what your shaft looked like; he wondered if maybe you made it large just for the occasion or if it was true to your “true form”.

You had moved down to his neck leaving various marks on it that no doubt would stick around for a while. Your hands made their way to his boxers and thanks to your nails, he hadn’t noticed they were like daggers until now, they were shredded apart. He continued rutting against you now being able to feel it without the dulling effect his underwear had. Your cold hand trailed up to his chest and squeezed whatever flesh you could hold onto.

Everything began to feel more intense. Whatever liquid was spewing out of you started to have a sweet smell that took over his senses. One of your more moderate-sized tentacles made its way to his face, staring at the tentacle. The sweet smell seemed more and more appetizing to him.

A strained moan left Dude's throat as he began to speak, “Put that in my mouth.” Your eyes shot open as you stared up at Dude, his eyes not even looking at you but the tentacle that was in front of him like it was its being. Dude lurched his head forward trying to reach it as a drop of the slick that was on it dripped onto the floor, “You humans are odd, please don’t bite it.” 

The tentacle rested against his tongue and subconsciously he began to suck on it earning a moan from you. Dude continued his motions wanting more noise out of you, he saw your face contort, scrunching up as your legs slightly staggered. The tentacles got tighter around each limb, and each part of his body was held. The slick came out more and more into his mouth and he wanted more and more of it. You felt weak, this wasn’t done on your planet, never even considered taking someone's tentacle in their mouth. 

Finally, he felt a warm and wet tentacle wrap around yours and his shafts squeezing them together, it felt sloppy but there were no complaints from either of you. You went back to leaving marks across his neck and collar, still grinding against Dude you could feel him twitching between you and the quick-moving tentacle. 

Dude’s sucking got harsher as the tentacle went deeper into his mouth his legs began to shake and his vision flashes white. With a whine, the wetness in the tentacle the two of you shared got more soaked. A thick glob of slick-filled dude's mouth as he did his best to swallow it down. As he gasped for air the dude felt himself being lowered closer to the ground by not being let go. 

“Ugh, what's going on? I don't think I can go again-” You held his head in your hands as his legs got pushed up further. “You could make an amazing nursery for an offspring, I won't fertilize the eggs but I say we should see if you can take it.”Your cock pressed against his ass, he could feel it twitch. He could also feel two smaller tentacles grope at his ass and thighs. Dude grew hard again as he panted out an agreement to try this new thing, he was already this far, go big or go home.

[jjsstars]

stancyweek2024: day 6, au’s

|| for @echoing-oursong event

|| tags: college au! + engaged au!

“How much longer do you think we should wait to tell everyone we’re engaged?” Nancy turns onto her stomach on the bed beside Steve, placing her chin on his chest and grinning when he wiggles his eyebrows at her.

“Mm I was thinking we tell them the night of the wedding.” He tries to sound serious while saying it but Nancy just gives him an unimpressed look despite her smirk.

“No way, my mom would kill me. Maybe we should have a big dinner and get it over with all at once?” Hopefully then they’ll avoid the inevitable arguments about who they told first being their favorite- Steve already had to restrain himself from telling Robin before he even proposed.

“That works, but we can’t fit everyone in here.” Steve’s eyes track around the studio apartment they have, there’s no way they’d even be able to fit just the party in here never mind all the other people too.

“We can bring Chestnut down to Joyce’s place.” The dog that’s currently curled up at Steve’s feet doesn’t move an inch hearing his name. It might’ve been a slightly impulse and irresponsible decision to buy a dog while they’re both still in college and only have this apartment as their house but the couple couldn’t resist seeing the box of five dollar puppies in the window of the pet store. They’re not immune to puppy dog eyes, sue them.

“Hopper will love that.” The chief isn’t the biggest dog person after fighting one too many demadogs.

“Okay then Eddie and Robin’s place.” Those two living together in a trailer across from Wayne’s has got to be absolute chaos and Steve would be lying if he didn’t say he wasn’t a small bit glad to miss it. He likes how peaceful and tranquil him and Nancy living together has been.

“Won’t Karen be mad we aren’t staying at hers?” Nancy grimaces at the thought of bringing Steve to the Wheeler household for an extended stay, one night is plenty family time for her and she grew up there.

“What about your old house? Doesn’t your dad still own it?” About the only time Steve hears from his father is to check if the house is still standing and if the electric bill has gone up, Steve isn’t even sure if he knows that Steve moved all the way to New York and hasn’t stepped foot in that house in over a year.

“He has cleaners come every week but other than that it’s empty so… we could crash there.” They could live there if they really wanted.

“Perfect. We can have dinner at my parents, break the news, then run back to your house when they all get too much.” Wedding planning is going to be an entire thing, Nancy can feel it, between Joyce and Karen and then Robin, El, and Max, it’ll be a long process.

“We’re only staying a week, how bad can it get?” The second it leaves Steve’s mouth he regrets it, he loves all of them to death but sometimes all of them at once can get to be too much, even for him.

“Don’t jinx us. We still have to tell them we want to get married outside and not in a church, my mom might break down.” Steve laughs lightly and brushes his hand through Nancy’s hair to move it away from her face.

“Hey we could elope right here in New York and really shock them.”

“That might cause another ‘earthquake’ in Hawkins.”

[caspersickfanfics]

I continue to force my sick Cyno agenda on innocent talented people and I cannot be stopped. This isn’t a fic request or anything I just want to share this brain worm

Cyno returning to Tighnari from work seemingly fine, a few scratches etc, but he’s VERY tired, so they do their song and dance of treatment and grounding and go to have dinner. And Cyno seems normal, until dinner is served and for whatever reason the normally iron stomach Cyno CANNOT handle whatever nari served. And it’s bad like he goes from fine to scrambling to the bathroom and Tighnari is just *surprised pikachu*

now here’s the thing- something nari served reminded Cyno of something he witnessed or had to deal with on his last mission. Maybe Cyno didn’t think whatever he saw or did, or ate, (who knows!! It’s a mystery ) affected him that much until it reappeared in this new context? Or maybe his body just has a knee jerk reaction to a perceived threat? Frankly I have no idea what it would be that caused this but the possibilities are fun. And! I like the idea of Cyno being equally shocked by his sudden nausea and it just totally ruining his night as his stomach just won’t stop churching

he would make tighnari SWEAR to never mention this to anyone ever, the General Mahamatra doesn’t get squeamish (and really he usually doesn’t) but Tighnari rolls his eyes and assures him that exhaustion plus *insert whatever the hell happened* would make anyone feel off something something comfort the end

Oh this is so freaking perfect for them!!!!! Absolutely brilliant.

I can think of a few things that could lead to this. One would be having a normal meal and then witnessing or experiencing something traumatic afterwards. Another would be a more direct tie -- eating something that was poisoned. And the middle option would be, Cyno got captured (and tortured or made to witness Horrors, etc.) and was forced to eat the same thing every day :(( Whatever it was, Cyno wasn't physically injured too bad, and he's had time to recover from that, so he figures "all's well that ends well" and doesn't linger on it much at all (avoidance is a symptom of trauma). Maybe there was someone else who went through it with him and they're not feeling great about it, so Cyno makes sure to get them situated and in a place to heal mentally, and then as he's leaving they're like "are you sure you're okay?" and he's like "yeah of course, I'm the General Mahamatra, so I'm always okay" and from that point on it's just no longer something that crosses his mind.

Tighnari can immediately see how tired he is, but is relieved to find no injuries. Cyno doesn't talk much, but that's typical, even more so when he's tired, and he just seems happy to see Nari.

I like the idea of Cyno sitting down to eat and he feels a bit nauseous from the smell of the food, but figures it's just the exhaustion. It's probably not an unfamiliar feeling for him after such a tiring job. He's not even slightly worried about it until the food is actually in his mouth and by that point his stomach is lurching. He's uncharacteristically clumsy as he scrambles out of the room.

It just crossed my mind that his job might mandate a certain level of confidentiality at times. So now I'm also playing with this idea of Tighnari, like, super worried because that was weird, and Cyno doesn't have a fever, but even after he empties his stomach, he's washed out, sweaty, on-edge. But Cyno's just sitting there in the corner of the bathroom, trembling like a leaf, mumbling apologizes for not being able to eat the food and saying stuff like "I can't– I just can't eat that" and shuddering when he thinks too hard about it. Tighnari's smart so pretty quickly he's like "did something happen at work?" And Cyno shrugs but obviously it's a yes. Nari's kind of frustrated, not at Cyno, but at the fact that he can't share his burdens. Cyno squeezes his eyes shut, but that doesn't do anything to stop the memories, and maybe he starts dry heaving. Tighnari just rubs his back quietly and tries not to imagine what Cyno must have experienced to have his body rebel so intensely. They spend the rest of the night trying to figure out how to make Cyno feel safe - maybe they trade huts with Collei or borrow an empty one for the night because the smell is triggering. Cyno can't stomach any food at this point, but tea helps. His body is so tired that he drifts off, but he keeps waking up from nightmares. Each time, he snuggles closer to Nari, who pretends to stay sleeping because he knows Cyno would feel baad for waking him. The third or fourth time Cyno wakes up, though, he's sick again, and Tighnari figures enough is enough. They spend the early morning hours playing cards. Tighnari is hardly paying attention to the game at all, instead choosing to focus on the conversation, sifting through their shared memories and deliberately bringing up the happiest, most comforting ones he can find, so that when Cyno falls asleep at the table, it's actually peaceful this time. Tighnari doesn't move him because he's sure it will wake him. He just keeps watch over him, playing with his hair, and feels devastatingly sad for whatever it was Cyno had to endure.

...I rambled as usual. I love this idea so much. I know you said it's not a request but I'm ngl I am kinda tempted to write this sdkjsfdjs (also!! I wholly support your sick Cyno agenda, please continue! XD)

[kisskissbanggang]

Disavowed - pt. 7 - The Finale

[5.1k Words/19min. Read - Reverend!Jisung x Reader - NSFW/Smut - Church, Second Tries, Deja Vu, Are You Seeing Things?, Seduction, Temptation, Semi-Public Sex, Exhibitionism, Church Sex, Divine Punishment, The Journey Down isn't So Much Long as it is Confusing, Mind Reading, True Callings, Destiny, Implied Toxic/Unsavory Relationships (Not Main Characters), Manipulative Behavior, Arson, Implied Character Harm/Death (Not Main Character)]

[a/n #1: we’re in the intense/frightening parts of our halloween series! this is quite honestly a supernatural horror with religious themes dealing with transformation, desire, and sacrifice. please pay attention to the tags above, especially the ones in bold pink so you can do what’s right for you 💗]

[a/n #2: ty to @therhythmafterthesummer and @magicficwriting for beta reading and previewing this series💗]

[Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Come Say Hi!]]

Maybe it was the backlog of sleep you’d never be able to make up, but your recurring dream about the tower had somewhat shifted. During your fitful night of sleep on Sunday night, you would either be at the top of the tower like before, or–in a new setting–inside of a cave, being ravaged by the sea. Both scenes were bizarrely detailed. The large stone blocks comprising the tower were textured. When your shoes slid across the surface, trying not to fall off, you could hear the crags and crevices of the rough ground you were standing on. There was wind on your face. And in the cave, you could hear droplets of water fall from the ceiling, the wet climbing into the fabric of your clothes. The sky outside was overcast, but that meant you could see the definition of each wave that lapped at the mouth of the cave. That same pair of arms from the tower were there, too, but this time they were trying to pull you further into the cave, away from the entrance. When you woke up, you were exhausted. 

The dreams felt important, in some arcane way.

Working through Monday felt like a slog. It was your first day, but it felt like you’d been at Pinewood Prep for ages. Maybe it was your lack of sleep.

Maybe, you were humoring, it was making such pointed eye contact with Reverend Jisung at mass the previous day. What was that about, anyway? There was something about him, about the way he looked at you, and it was almost driving you to obsession. 

It didn’t help that you were pushing yourself through busy work.

Jacqueline’s desk was empty when you arrived that morning. A queasy sensation settled in your stomach when you remembered catching the end of her encounter with Father James the other day. Now, in an attempt to not let the front office fall into disarray, you took it upon yourself to look through her pile of filing that she’d left behind. It only felt fair. She didn’t deserve anyone thinking she’d been bad at her job just because there was work left to do. 

“Shame about Jacqueline,” Sister Judith tutted when she exited her office, holding a duster. Jacqueline’s desk sat just inside the door, abandoned. “She did always know how to keep my shelves spotless. And I suppose she closed the age gap in the staff. Now it’s just you and the reverend, I believe.”

You liked Sister Judith well enough. She was terrifying, sure, but you imagined that she was beleaguered trying to keep masses of teenagers behaved and devout. Not like Father James, who made you uneasy for more reasons than just what you could infer was going on between him and the sister’s former assistant. As it turned out, Jacqueline would typically bring the sister and father their mail, so you had felt a need to volunteer for this earlier that morning as well. 

Father James’ office was back out at the chapel, and that isolation made everything even more awkward for you. It’s not like you were looking for reasons to not like this man, but he wasn’t helping any. He’d stared at you, stopping you in your tracks at the door as he sat at his desk. You’d held up his mail in your hand and he nodded his permission for you to enter, almost begrudgingly after he’d managed an ingratiating smile.

“Oh, hold on, lamb. Before you go,” he’d said, stopping you again. Father James had taken your hand then and dropped something into it. “See if the sister would like this, would you? Tell her I found it after mass last week. No one’s come looking for it.”

When you’d left, you immediately peeked into your closed fist. On your palm sat a golden letter J on a dainty chain.

But that wasn’t what had necessarily put you off so badly. Maybe the lighting in the Father’s office was terrible, but you didn’t enjoy a creepy interaction taking place in a creepily dark room. The lighting might’ve actually only been bad closer to his desk, really. Like a bulb had gone out or something. Come to think of it, something was weird about the lighting in the front office as well. Sister Judith had looked particularly rosy, different from the other day.

This realization brought you back to something the sister had said, though.

“Sister,” you called over. She turned back around from the records she was flicking through. “What exactly did you say about the age gap in the staff?”

“Oh,” she waved you off with her persistent frown. “You and the reverend are the youngest, that’s all. Speaking of which, you’ve been so proactive today that it’s given me an idea. Bring these records over to him, the reverend. Jacqueline was running the after school study group in the library, so it only makes sense that he take it on now. I’m not sure what a librarian does all day but I assume he has time.”

Your observation remained true, though. The lighting could’ve been weird, or Sister Judith looked almost rouged, even her auburn fringe looking more red from where it was peeking out of her habit. 

Or you could’ve simply been going crazy. You already couldn’t sleep. The thought amused you on your walk down the hall to the library, records in hand. When you entered, you found the main room to be empty, including the information desk that you assumed the reverend typically sat at. You warily took a look down each aisle, not wanting to startle anyone.

Finally, you spotted him. The deacon stood tall, reshelving books from his cart.

But it wasn’t just that. There was a distinct hue surrounding the reverend, too, his being the sweetest shade of blush pink. The word aura came to mind but the word aura also sounded insane. You’d originally considered it when you were in Father James’ office, and you thought about it again when you were speaking with Sister Judith, and you tried to ignore it when you saw the students in the hall during passing period, all of them haloed in nice shades of white and cloudy gray.

You needed some fucking sleep.

During your manic little internal monologue, the deacon had a chance to see you before you could greet him first. His eyes widened in recognition again, but his excitement managed to lift your mood a little.

“New girl!” he chipperly greeted while he approached to shake your hand. “You’re in the front office, right? Are you the new Jacqueline? I swear I saw you at mass yesterday.”

“Yes, you saw me,” you answered, attempting to take on one question at a time. “And yes, I’m in the front office, but I’m not the new Jacqueline. I’m the new office manager. Speaking of Jacqueline, though, Sister Judith wants you to take on the study group after school.”

The deacon was a deer in headlights when you handed him the records the sister wanted you to pass along. “No problem,” he chuckled sardonically, “I definitely have time and that’s absolutely not outside of my contract hours.”

“I work hourly if you need any help,” you gently offered. “It was nice to meet you, Reverend–”

“Just Jisung is fine,” he interrupted. “And–I’m sorry–have we met? I swear we have. Did we study at Cypress Springs together?”

“No, sorry,” you laughed apologetically. “Were you hoping we did?”

Jisung blushed at your response, adorably matching the shade of pink surrounding him that you were trying very hard to ignore. “Come on,” he pretended to whine, “help me out here. I know we met.”

“Maybe in a dream,” you teased, getting the shade of his cheeks to deepen, spreading to his ears now. It felt reckless to be flirty with a man of the cloth, but you simply didn’t want to stop. By now, you almost wanted him to try asking you for some time alone together–

Which was a wild thought, come to think of it. There was no way Deacons were allowed to do that, right? 

But it still sounded fun. It wasn’t your fault he was handsome, or that he was dying to know how you supposedly knew each other. You were just admiring, really.

Even though you were admittedly curious about the same thing. 

“I should get going, Jisung,” you grinned, “but let me know if you want help with the study group.”

You turned to leave, but a hand on your sleeve stopped you. Jisung quickly relinquished you.

“Would you want to go grab a drink some time?”

You tried to maintain your composure. “As friends? Not as a date?” you ribbed.

Jisung shook his head in agreement. “Of course. Never as a date. With Jacqueline gone, you and I are the two youngest staff members. There are reasons, you know, for us to get to know each other. As friends.”

“You could pick me up tonight,” you suggested, folding your arms across your chest but also pretending to stroke your chin in consideration. “You know, as friends. I know a place out in Briar Bay.”

“Briar Bay?” Jisung asked. “Why out there?”

“Because,” you explained matter-of-factly, “that way no one can make any assumptions that you and I aren’t just friends.”

A cute grin spread across Jisung’s lips. “Just friends. That sounds great.”

╚⊶⊶⊶⊶⊶✞⊷⊷⊷⊷⊷╝

Your fellow boarders tried to tease you by peeking out the window when Jisung came to pick you up, but he beat any allegations by coming to the door and introducing himself.

You know, as your new friend.

He was dressed handsomely casual in a sweater and jeans, with a ball cap pulled low over his eyes. Why he looked even more familiar now was beyond you, but you were accepting that to be an irrefutable aspect of your situationship by this point. You’d considered another turtleneck for yourself since the weird mark between your breasts was still not gone, but you decided instead on a sweet dress with flirty straps at the shoulders underneath a cute cardigan. Nothing flashy, nothing too enticing, nothing intimidating.

As if that had ever been a concern of yours.

And the night was nice. According to the sign outside, the bar was called the Trawler. The jukebox provided plenty of privacy by way of ambient noise mixed with off-duty fishermen loudly griping to each other. After your first drink together, Jisung slipped off his ball cap, brushing his fingers back through his hair. He complimented your perfume and you told him you liked his aftershave. Your feet brushed against his under your table in the corner of the dank bar and he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.

You leaned forward, propping up your elbows on the table and resting your chin on your clasped hands. “What’d you study at–what was it again–Cypress Springs?”

Jisung blushed into his drink. “I tried normal things like interpretation theory, but those were always hard for me. I like soteriology. Do you know what that is?” The blush in his cheeks tripled with your clueless shrug. “It’s like the study of salvation and stuff, that sort of thing. Do you want to dance with me?”

You both paused, and Jisung looked like he had no idea if he stepped over the line or not. On the jukebox, a cheesy love song was making the fishermen quit their complaining and pull their partners out to the floor for a slow dance. 

“As friends,” he bashfully clarified. “You can say no.”

You smiled sweetly. “No, I’d love to.”

Jisung humbly grinned and offered you a hand away from the table. He let you reach first, leading his hands to wrap around your waist before you wrapped yours around his neck.

“What about outside of college?” you asked. “What did you like?”

The thick pause Jisung took told you he had a different answer off the bat, but kept it to himself. “It’s nerdy,” he laughed, rolling up the sleeves of his sweater, “but my mentor loved the occult. Not even in a condemning way but, like, how the church could’ve done a better job identifying threats and dealing with them. It was nice, just geeking out about this stuff together when I wasn’t studying.”

This set off your fight or flight reflex for an unforeseen reason, but you chose to rationalize it instead. Of course there were guys in seminary that were obsessed with the occult. You, on the other hand, had no interest in the occult or any mysticism for that matter (or even church for that matter, if you were being honest), so there was literally no reason for you to freak out about this information.

Right?

But still, it’d been too long since you made Jisung blush, perhaps getting too comfy, and you were craving that little adrenaline rush.

“You want to take me home?” you asked suddenly. Jisung’s eyes comically widened and you laughed out loud. “Not like that!” you giggled. “It’s a school night. Want to give me a ride back to the boarding house?”

Jisung sighed in full relief. “Yeah, of course.”

Back in his beat-up little shitbox sedan, you watched as he drove. Not just because he was handsome and charming and sweet–

But because you thought you could hear something. When you focused, easier to do now without the commotion of the bar, it was easier to make out over the sound of the car on the road.

This is fucking crazy.

Was that–?

Just friends. That’s rich. I look like such a creep. This looks so bad.

Jisung. You were hearing Jisung’s thoughts.

You didn’t need a good night’s sleep; you needed a psychiatrist. But regardless, you tested this.

“Thanks for inviting me out tonight,” you coolly mentioned. “It was pretty brave of you, honestly. This sort of thing could look bad to the wrong person.”

Jisung transparently side-eyed you from the driver’s seat. “Yeah,” he breathlessly attempted to laugh it off, “I’m glad you understood what I was looking for.”

The rest of the ride was dead silent, but only because you were intently listening to Jisung internally berate himself all the way back to Pinewood Falls. However, as luck would have it, that was when you had your next amazing idea.

“You know,” you piped up. “You don’t have to drive me home if that feels weird. I can walk from school.”

“You can?” Jisung asked eagerly. He immediately took the turn for the parking lot behind the gym, almost too excited to stop making this look bad. A truck was parked closer to the rear entrance of the church, so he veered out of sight by the vestibule, inadvertently doubling your walking distance to the school.

You demurely smiled and got out of the car when Jisung parked. From where he was sitting, you could hear his sigh of relief, but he almost jumped out of his skin when you ducked back down. “Hey,” you pouted, “I just remembered I forgot my phone charger in my desk. I can grab it while I’m here, but I’m scared to go alone. Can you come with me?”

Jisung paled at your request. 

Fucking liar, he panicked. He was right, but you were mostly just curious to see how much you could push his buttons. The reverend loved your fake date so much, how far would he go to simply have a good time?

“Yeah,” he finally nodded. “Of course I’ll go with you. Wouldn’t want you to be scared.”

You walked a respectable distance ahead so as to silently reassure him that you weren’t trying to jump his bones, but this also gave you a good, hard minute to think about what the hell you were doing. Why were you being so brash? Why were you being so forward?! It was like every single impulse you’d ever had, you were suddenly acting on them, and the thought was exhilarating and terrifying at the same time. Something about it made you feel good. Something about it made you feel unstoppable. It was familiar and new all at once and now that you experienced it, you never wanted it to stop.

Jisung paused, noticing something out of the corner of his eye and doing a double take, and it made you do the same. The door at the back entrance of the chapel was propped open.

That’s weird, the reverend thought. A gleeful little thought took hold in your mind.

“Hey,” you noticed out loud, “you think someone is still here this late?”

God I hope not, Jisung said. 

“I’m sure it’s the night custodian,” he shrugged, trying to rush you along. 

“Then we should let him know he left the door open!” you teased while you grabbed his sweater sleeve and pulled him along. “An open door this late at night could let all sorts of things in.”

Like us, Jisung moaned, but he followed you nonetheless.

You peered into the heavy rear entrance of the church before stepping inside the dark hallway. The reverend looked over his shoulder before letting the door close behind him, the doorstop shoved into the jamb thunking ominously when you both entered the eerily still space. You grabbed his arm, the comfort not unwelcomed in the moment, and Jisung felt along the wall to pull you into the doorway leading to the altar at the front of the church. He flipped a light switch, which only illuminated the front half where you were standing. 

“Well,” Jisung began, clasping his hands together, “I should go check the vestibule.”

He jogged away before you could stop him. Apparently, Jisung really didn't want to be left alone with you, which was a funny thought in and of itself. You would think taking his vows meant he’d have better self-control, but no. Just being around you was getting him wound up. 

You loved that, in a way. 

Maybe every way. 

You strolled around the altar, enjoying this alternate perspective, away from the restricting social graces of mass. The worn and faded carpet, the heavy oak altar standing bare because it wasn’t in service. The chair Father James sat in during church, and the one beside him for Jisung. Overhead, the large, formidable cross loomed, anchored firmly to the wall over the respective cabinets for the sacraments and the holy oils by the door to the robe room.

Tabernacle. Ambry.

The words weren’t in Jisung’s voice; they were in your own. You just knew them all of a sudden. 

Ridiculous, you thought to yourself. You’d heard them before, obviously. 

Shaking off that weird feeling of not quite knowing how you knew this, you hopped up to sit on the altar, a little gesture to maintain the status quo and cool your nerves, but doing this made another odd sensation of familiarity wash over you.

Jisung walked up the aisle to you, shooing you off the altar while you simply sat and kicked your feet.

“Would you get down from there?” he helplessly scolded.

“Sure, if you help me,” you teased.

Jisung sighed and approached the steps to the altar. He hesitated for a solid beat before putting his hands on your waist to help you down. His doe eyes were sweet when you made eye contact.

“You’re really sure?” he asked. “We never met before?”

You smirked in response. “I thought we did, remember?”

The reverend blushed. His aura was persistent even in the dim church. “Right,” he sarcastically nodded, “in a dream.”

“Did we go on a friend date in your dream, too?” you grinned. “Or was it a real one, the kind where you drive me all the way home?”

Jisung looked down at you, his hands still on your waist. His breathing was the smallest hint of ragged.

“Why are you doing this?”

He asked it quietly, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to ask at all, but you considered it all the same. Ever since you saw him the previous morning, you wanted to snatch him up like a helpless little animal. This wasn’t like you.

Well, it wasn’t like how you were used to being. But this felt incredible.

“Why am I doing this?” you repeated. Jisung nodded. You cupped his face in your hands. “Because I want to,” you answered. When you kissed him, he didn’t deny you. In fact, Jisung fell right into you, all while silently wishing he would come to his senses and stop. Nonetheless, his arms wrapped around you and he kissed you harder, almost too sloppily while his eager tongue explored your mouth.

“Maybe I should drive you home after all,” Jisung murmured against your lips. His sigh was almost a whine when you pulled away, and he watched as you slipped off your cardigan and sauntered over to Father James’ grand chair.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, he cursed in quick succession, clearly at odds with himself before you seated yourself on the edge of the lavish chair and beckoned him over. Jisung complied almost instantaneously, practically sweating when he fell to his knees, his lips caressing your neck while he gingerly parted your knees.

“Be patient with me,” he sheepishly, lightly joked, “it’s been a long time.”

“A long time like ever?” you cooed.

Jisung’s pretty aura pulsed a deeper pink when his cheeks rouged. He hid his bashful face in the crook of your neck, kissing you wherever he could find untouched skin while he eased you open under your dress and panties with his fingers. The headrush was incredible. Jisung folded and all you had to do was give him the chance to do it. 

“Nervous?” you asked.

Fucking terrified, he answered.

“No,” he lied. “Why should I be nervous?”

You kissed him again, ushering him deeper into blatant sacrilege when you felt him unzip his jeans. So far, all you really had to do was kiss him in the first place. After that, he was a goner. Jisung kissed you harder, his length prodding into you when he stopped.

Goddamn, he refused, I can’t–

“Jisung,” you sighed cutely, getting his focus back. His eyes watched, rapt, when you pulled the dainty straps of your dress off your shoulders, the neckline sliding over and under your breasts. The mysterious scar between your cleavage was a concerning shade of maroon, but you didn’t let yourself become distracted. “Doesn’t it feel so good to let yourself have what you want?”

The reverend nodded, almost dazed when he leaned down to kiss you again. His deliciously hard member teased deeper into you and you gasped–

D̷̠̭̫̻͇͙͙̈́̋͘o̸̡̢̧͈͚͕͇̣̬̯̩̳̺͔͚̪̱̞̍͆̆̌̂͛̍́͛̂͆̇̌̎̋̉̄̈͜͜͜͝ ̵̨̡̦̘͔͎͚̝̮̯͈͓̹̮̰̹̠͉̞͐͐̊͊̾̋͗̅̓͛̚͝͝͝ͅÿ̸̳̩̗͉͈̺́̈́͊͐̀̋̌̒̽͝o̶̼̘̭͔͍̫͓͈̱̰̮̠̠̻̺̺̐̅̍́͌ų̴̡̛̹̙̲͙͈̦̝͇̝̖̰͙͕̱͇̍͒̃̇͒̓͋͒̐͛̾̈́̍̎͋̂̀͊̚͜͝͝͝ ̴͈͎͈̰̩͖̿̅͋͒̓͐̉̒̀̓́̐̓͋̎͜ṛ̵̱̆̎̾̑̅̑͐͆͛̅̓̋̀̃̅̋͘̚̚̕͝ȅ̸̢̤̯́̑̋͛̌̅̑̀̇͒̈́͠m̶̡͔̩̙̹͖̗̻̰̹̺̫̳͉̰͓̩̠͈͈̂̅͋͛́͆̽̕͘͝͠ȩ̶̨̡̧̗͚̗͙̱̘̦̳͓̭̤͙̹͉̖̟͛͛̇̌̐̔̀̇̏͆̿̇̈́͊̎̐̉͊͛̅́͜ͅͅͅṁ̵̛͓͔̹̠̦̠͓̖̦̼̥̳̪̮̱̮͍̱̮̗͗͗͆͑͋̾̈̓̔̄͐̀̉̽͝͝͝b̴̼͇͙͚͉̻̪̮͈̋͜ę̴̨͍͓̭̫͊͊́̑̈́͆̉̎̈̏̍͑͌̓͑͘͠ŗ̸̞̦̥̳̮͈̮͎̗̩̬͇͍̦̂͐͘ ̸̛͓͔̜̠̬͍̱̤̠͗̂̊̑̎̇̿̃̔̉̌̋n̶͇̈́̓͗͋̾́̕ơ̷̧̨̪̰̟̟̤͉̭̌̓̓͗̍̇̒̍̎̓͗̒͂͂̈̎̔̃́̀̄̕͜͜w̷̘̖͕̭̃̾̀̽̔̊̑̏̽̇͊̉̾̈̐̆̈́́̊̃̑̅͘̕ͅ,̷͍̐͋̒̿́̂̀̀̈́̋̓͂̆̓̅͝ ̵̢̦̫͙͈̳͕̻̝͊́̀͒̎̾̅̆̒̀̉̓̕̕̕̕b̴̡͍̱̥̣̤̲͖̱͓͚̹͍͕̤͗̓́̉̂̃͒̾̍̔̓͝ę̸̠̪̮͚̙̹̞̙͍͓̱͔̖͖͂͗͋͂̐̉͆̑́̄́̌ͅļ̸͔̈́͆̍̈́̿̏̋̏́̑̓̓͘͘͠ơ̶̖̹̙̜̫̒͆͐v̵̛̯̱̣̻̖͙̦̺̐̔́͆̊̋̂̇̉̇̎̿̑̿͆̕͠͝͝͝͝e̶̻͑̾̄́̽̀̈́̿̓̽̈̐́̀̈́͌͗̚̚d̸̲̳̀̇͌͜?̷̧̡̨̢̻̪̥̙̩̯̭̜͈͖̟̮͕̗͙̳́̏̅̽̈

My mind flashes white again and it’s almost like I’ve been dunked underwater. I feel like I’m falling through the fucking chair. The air is sucked out of my chest again, full panic, and all I can think about is the fact that I’m fucking Jisung again. 

This isn’t right. Where is Chris? That fucking coward. He abandoned me again, and for what? So that I can find him again after I fall? I don’t even know how this happened, because why the hell would I fuck Jisung again? He tried to get me goddamn exorcized, that son of a bitch, he’s lucky I don’t strangle him right here and now–

Y̸̘̭̜̣̭̗͙̯͉̗͖̭̜̱̱̜͉͈̬͚̣͌͜͜ơ̷̢̨̯̙̭̭̘̮̼̦̣̻͍̹̯̮͗͋̒͌̆͛̈́͑̅͌́̇̀̆͘͜͝͠ͅͅứ̶̞̐͒̾̂̾͑̓̿̅͛͋̀̓̅̕̕͝͝'̴̡̡̡̛̭̟̮͈͎̬̯̟͖̞̙̳̤͋́͛̌̔̀̂̿̊̚̕͘ṛ̷̢̡̢̧̢͓͎͚͉̻̞̱͉̠͕͇̺̮̳̩̗̉̑̔̾̌̔̑͒̀͋̕͜ͅē̵̘͓̈́ͅ ̸͍͖̣͇̻͈͎̫͔͎͎̥͗̈́́̊̔̌á̵̳̼̫́͛̐͐̀́̃̓̈́̉̉͠ļ̴̖͕̘͚̤̻̥̺̟͆́m̵̢̡̧̛͎̲̻͖̰͔͓͖̲̺͇̦̼̟͍̮̥̤̬̱̅̍̄̄̂̽̓̅͗̅́̂̂͑̊̋͒̄͒̀͘͜͝ö̸̭́̆̈̿͆̎̋̿̌̎͐̐s̸̭̠̲͈͚̰̘͍̝̙̘̭̘̋͗ͅt̷̡̛̖̯̹̩͚̠͙̘̖͇̥̪̖̞͎̫͆̀͌͆̊̓̎̃́̈́̒̑̄̑͋̀̆̂͛̕͝ ̶̡̞̞̮̝͒̏̍t̶̨̨̢̖̩͇̣̱̲͖͇͇̩͈͉͙͇̺̓̂̍̒͂̀̂̑͑̎͋́͒͜ḣ̸̨̩̤̼̖͖̱̜͎̱̺͈̺͉͂̉̀è̵̡̝̘̩͚͎͍̥̘͈̩̦̯̇̿̚r̴̢��̥͕̘̣̝̭̼͕̥̃̀ę̵̳̳̫͇͓͉̩͍͕̩̯̝͆͆̉͐̾̔̂̈̒͆.̵̡͓̻̤̆̇͊̏̔͒̓̓̅͂̆̊̒̈́͋̓̽̌̾̆ ̵̢̡͉͔͙͖͇̲̪̰͓̦̜͔̳̌͂̍͗̕̚͠Y̷͍̘̗̳̲͆̐́̈́̚ǫ̵̰͕̟͍̻͉̼̺̯͙̠̇̊̚͜ͅư̶̧̡̡̺͎̤͍͙̪̠̘̤͇̥̺̬͋͜͝'̸̡͈̙͋̈́́́͋͐̈́́̓̕r̷̢̞͖̱͚͓̫̝̯̻͍̖͓̩̯̆̎̋͆̀̀̔͆̒ͅͅe̶̳̼̹͖͚͔̭̼̺̳̗͖̦̟̗̿̈́͗̈́̚̚ ̶̡͕̤̲̺͖̞̼̭̳͉̞̖̇͊͌̄̂͜ͅs̷̼̲̟͆̑͂̂͋͋̏̓͑́̉̈́̈́͘̚͝o̶̧̡̟̱̞̝̟͒͛̇̚ ̷̧̢̤͖̘̜̩͈͇̲̙̋͒̿͑̾̓̂̑͊̉̀̌̍̚p̶̪̝̎̇̀̇̐͌͋̾̍̾̍̿̉͌̏͘͠͝ȩ̵̧̤͓̖̬̲͂͆̒̍̐̋͐̏͆̓̇̈́̋̌̈̈̓͘͜͝ŗ̵̧̛͔̠͖̙̺͇͎͖̱̈́̌̂́̈́́̾͌̽̓̕f̶̱̣̘̖͔͙̤̣̯͎̙̼̰͈̱̩̬̠̙͉̙̏̎͊͐̽͠e̷̳̠̯̻̱̯̭̺̦̤̗̘̹̟̝͈̭̣͍͂̄̀͋̾̈́̉̓̈́̕̕̚̚͜͠c̴̢̛̙̭̥̬̹̤̞̠̎t̶͚͕̤̜̂̉̏̐̆̒̋͜͝.̸̡̻͇̥̭̖́͐̈́̈́̀̆̉̋͗͐̀̂́͒̈́͘͠͝͠ ̵̨̡̧̖̦̬̖͙͕̭̜̜̝̯̹̠̦̪̮̻̙̈́̽̉͊͌̈́̇̿̔́̂̀̈́̓͋́̽̂̌̈̕̚͠͝J̶̹̩̦̗̟̯̣̰͐̆̓̎̈́̍̑̀͂̽̈́͆̂͗̏̈́̈́̃͘͘͝u̷̢̡̝̦̦͇̹̳̮̖̦̹̓͛̀͊̓͑́s̷̲̙͈̲̤̦͎̺͍̻͌̔̿̈͊̀̂̋̿͋͌̓̈̍̔̓̌̕͝͠ͅt̶̙̣̰̥̙̪͐͌̅̇͒̔̚͘͜ ̷̨̮̲͙̟̤̼̤̮̥͚͓̱̜͖͈͚͍̿̀͛̇͒̎͂͌̐͜͜à̶̢̧̢̛͔͕̞̟̖̰̙̬͕̱͈̘̖̦̪̟̳̝̅̏͂̾̃́͌͑͌̀̈́̎̊͂̂̌̄͊̄̚͜͝͝ͅͅ ̷̨͉̘̭̗͚͙͖͓̙̞̝͈͖̜͈͖͚͖̮̙̂̌̓̅̒̓͛́̃̕̕̚͝͠ļ̸̯͈̱̳̫͓̺̰͋̆̈́̓͐̐̊̓̈̅̆͌͐̈́̊̈́͘͠ͅi̶̛̛̛̳͕̰͌̏̓̌̒̍͂̀̅̅̅̔̚͘t̴̫̪̘̰̫͈̩̰̫̺͕̞̖̲͓̯̝̟̲̑̍͌̇́̎̀͌͒̕͜͜͠ͅẗ̶̮̠̜̟̦̩̠̹̰͔̜̥̳̤͖́͊̋l̷̡̯̖̦͂̒̉̐́̾̒̿̈́͛̊̔́̉ë̸̢̘͉͕̱̩̣̱̖̳̦̻̰̲͓͈̺̪͔̐͌̆̔̍̽͊͗̊̀̓̍͘͘̚̕͜͝͝͠ ̶̹̮̓̍͗̂̍́̒̉̽̅̊̌̐̄̍̓̈́͝f̴̡̤͇͓̬̊̏̂̌̑̎̎͗̉ą̶̟͈̙̞̞͖̪͔̬̤̙̟͔͖̹͇̝̘̣̒̋̂͒͒͒͆͒̏̑̌̋͋̍́̅̏̀̔͂̕͜ŗ̵͍͚̫̮̠͚̭̺͐̋̄̑͐̐̔͑͘͜͝ͅt̶̡̛̞͉̱̭̠̺͙͎̣̗͓̆͗͆͋̿͌̽̃̌̐̿̓́̎̈́̔̚͘͝͝͠͠h̷̖͗͐̃̄̀̽͒̀��̃̊̈̀̑̏͠ę̵̞̻̲̭̃͗̄͋̀̑̍͛̌̐̕r̸̛͖̼̩̝͒͑̊͒͒̀̍̏͊̃̂̐̉̚ ̵̢̖̞̹̪̱̦͓̫̥̄̉̌̊͠ͅď̷̢̧̧̢͓͙̪̣̹̮̺̗̤̰̰̗̪̖͇̞̠͇͔̻̀̈́̏͛͊̈͋́̐͑̎͘̚͘͝͝ǫ̵̡̱͉̖̫͈̩̬̟͇͎̟͓̳̜͗̂̾̒͋͑͂́w̷̨̨̠͎̬̥̥̞͙͚͎͈̎̾̋͐͐̉͛͂̆̔͊̊̈́̈́̚n̴̢̙̬̰̜̋.̶̡̛̲̹͙͍͖̮̀̃̍̃̑̄̅͒̐̈̉̎̕͝

The main lights of the church flipped on, and although the fright almost made you jump out of your skin, you were still set on edge and bewildered by the sudden influx of memory. This wasn’t the first time you fucked the reverend, nor was it the first time you ever enjoyed feeling this powerful. But still, there were bewildered tears irritating the corners of your eyes.

Chris, that asshole. You were going through this alone and all you could think about was how you wished you could see him again. Meanwhile, Jisung’s aura burned a lovely shade of wine red while he thrust inside you. 

You had to hand it to him–he was much sweeter this time around. This felt too good to stop, really, and you knew Jisung felt the same. He wanted this from the beginning, and all you had to do was let him have it.

But you wanted Chris, that bastard. Whatever he was, if he was some being like you thought you might be, then you were disgustingly proud of yourself for being able to crumble him. With Jisung’s gorgeous aura radiating off of him, all you could think about was that nighttime walk in Briar Bay with Chris.

“You glow, you know.”

“What?”

“Yeah. I like the way you glow in the moonlight.”

You were infatuated enough at the time to think he meant it romantically, but knowing he meant it literally was somehow–annoyingly–even sweeter.

“Reverend? What on Earth are you doing?” 

The pleasant buzz of your sordid encounter wore off fast when you looked over Jisung’s shoulder.

Father James.

Jisung looked, too, and almost pulled out of you before he fell right back into you. Much to your amusement, he was conflicted. “Oh, fuck,” he whined under his breath.

The old man had an aura, too. You knew something looked weird in his office this time around. A void of inky black whirled around him. 

Fitting.

“Jisung,” you taunted again, grabbing onto the collar of his sweater.

He put a hand on yours, meagerly attempting to peel you off but holding on regardless. “We–I–we can’t–”

“But you want it, don’t you?” you pouted before grinning, almost triumphantly. “Fuck me, Reverend.”

“Oh, God–!” Jisung repeated with a whimper as he was rocked by his climax, shocked as he was by your use of his title that he’d worked so hard for, vowed for, and now fully betrayed. He collapsed more fully to his knees, spent and dazed now that the clarity was starting to seep in. “Fuck,” he wheezed, “I can’t believe I just–”

You cupped Jisung’s face again before noticing Father James furiously approaching the altar. Thinking fast, you stopped him in his tracks. 

“Please wait, Father,” you ordered. As it turned out, you were furious, too. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

Astounded and simmering in rage, Father James was successfully frozen in place.

Jisung seemed on the brink of shock. He really let himself get lost in it, it would seem. His glazed eyes began to water. “I can’t believe I–”

“Shh,” you comforted him, kissing his forehead. “It’s okay. It’s just what you wanted, that’s all. I think we both used each other for something. It’s alright, Jisung. Go to sleep.”

The reverend, his aura still a fiery red, nodded feebly before his eyes rolled up to close. And just as you thought, having never tried this before, Jisung simply faded from sight, presumably back to where you wanted, at home in his bed. Father James’ eyes boggled as he watched the reverend disappear. You arose from the old man’s chair, smiling coyly and bringing him to his knees in front of the altar steps. It was fun, watching him try to resist you. 

When you were standing in front of him on the steps, he couldn’t help but look at your exposed chest, your dress still draped down off your shoulders. The smell of smoke wrinkled your nose, and the mark that Chris bit into you was still there, smoldering like a cinder.

“Enjoying God’s gifts, Father?” you smiled sarcastically. 

It was almost amusing, the way it looked like the old man had to fight against an unseen force to even talk. This was your first time ever really trying this. Something dark in you wondered if Chris ever did this. You imagined he must’ve at some point. The thought of it electrified you. You lifted your dress straps back up over your shoulders.

“I don’t–I don’t understand,” Father James gritted out.

You picked up your cardigan off the floor and slipped something out of the pocket before dropping the garment again. The priest’s eyes locked on the golden charm you dangled from your hand. 

“I didn’t know about her on the first go-around,” you disappointedly shook your head, like a parent lecturing a child. “You’ve been doing this a long time, but how long were you doing this? How many other women were there, Father?”

You didn’t force him to answer, and he didn’t. Instead, he kept his lips tightly pursed. For a moment, you considered doing this just like you had last time. 

But you decided against it.

Last time, you were terrified, scared, not understanding what was happening to you or why. You’d convinced yourself in the moment that you were only enraged, but within you, you knew you were horrified. This time? You knew even more. You hated all of this even more. You understood yourself even more.

And besides, you wanted this even more.

Father James’ joints creaked, showing his age as he got up against his will. Unlike last time, he walked into the robe room, where the rest of the supplies for mass were kept. He emerged with a hefty jug of liquid paraffin, used for refilling the large pillar candles on either side of the altar. When he stood in front of you again, he reached into his breast pocket and brought out his pack of cigarettes with his lighter tucked inside. He handed you the pack, and watched as you tipped the contents into your hand and only returned the lighter.

“Why are you doing this?” he somberly asked. His eyes softly closed when you cupped his scratchy cheek, the skin worn and roughed over time.

“You know why, lamb,” you answered. “You let yourself have what you wanted. Everything is bought, everything comes with a price. Maybe you don’t pay for it at the time, but you do pay.”

Father James stoically accepted this.

“Or don’t,” you shrugged. “Pay later. You don’t have to stay. But I know how I felt. Who knows how the rest of them felt.”

Just like last time, Father James did not argue. He did not beg or plead as you walked down the aisle, away from the altar. The night air was nipping your nose when you emerged from the church, and you spied Jisung’s car. Wanting to test this out as well, you desired it back at the reverend’s place. Sure enough, the car vanished, too.

You walked, taking your time encircling the church until you found Father James’ truck. As you predicted, the old man kept the keys in the visor, a wild assumption of safety in his quiet, little town. You smelled smoke again, but this time it was the church. You got out of the truck cab and opened the tailgate so you could sit on it and watch as the smoke slowly turned into flames.

Something felt grounded inside you, and you smiled contentedly.

Maybe now you’d find Chris.

Or maybe you didn’t want to yet.

T̶̡͎̤͇͈̪̯̿͋h̴͉̟͚͇̯̖̹̗̒̉͆͛͂͆̅̇̂̄̾͜ḙ̷̢̧͚̞̹͈̞͖̲͛̃͒́̌̍̇͑̂͊̓͜ ̶̨̡̡̮͎̲͖̲̖̱̺͚̬͈̆͒̈̅̄̉̈́̿͆́͘w̴͔̥͛̓͌̏̽͒̄̒̚̚͝ā̴̡̢̨͉͚̩̗͓̥̤̼̤͊͂̈́͘ÿ̶̡̧͈̹̗̇̿͒̅́ ̵̨̲͎͕̖͓͓̺̬̬͚͋̆̇͋̋̉̒̈́̆̇̄͑̓͜͝ỵ̴̞̣̖͓̲͎͙͍͔͈̜̄̎̇̈́̂̋̈́͆́͊͝ͅō̵̝̰̲͋̍̅ụ̴͍̻̍͂́̉̀͋͐̚̕͝ ̷͚͓͚̫̦͒͒̌̏̍͝f̴̙̎̑̊̈́̂̈́̿̔̓͂͒̉̕ę̷͖͓̰͇͎̰̰̳̅̈́͋̍͌̐͘l̵̨̨̡͖̞̞̮̲͕̳̩̱̜̟͌͑̈̓̓̀͐̾͆̔̓̆̕͝͝l̶̜̮̱̹̾͒́͂͒̅̽̒̚͠͠ ̶̛̩̱̘͇̘̭̱̈́͗̂͂͜l̷̢̛̳̳̭̪̔̾͑̒̾̇̍͐̔͗̀̉͋͝e̶̼̬͇̍̄̒͑͌͠t̷̨̧̙͓͉̤̩̣̃̈̒͑͂̈́ ̸̳̬̣̫͓̫̄m̶̖̮͖̺͛̆̒̋̂ę̷̛̜̳̘͈͔̗̺̜̲̰̳̞͊̃̆̾͑̆̑̏̌̒̚͜ ̵̰̈͑̀͘c̴̨̜̫̘̪̹̘̖̭͖͊͋̉͐̐̌͊͆̋̏ͅa̷͙͗͋̍͊̑̀̈́̀̀̓̈́̚t̵̡̺̭͙̭͈̘͕͈̯͎̐̍̈̇̌́c̷̡̛̛̰̹̗͖̲̟͙̝̑̈́̓́̈́̃̇͋̂̽͑̚͜͜͠ḥ̸̮̖̺̞̐̃̈́̊͐̽͛ͅ ̵̦̠͓̝̭͖̜͙̤͎̩̈̓̊͊̊̊́͘ŷ̵̖̣̫̫̱̱̭̹̺͍̑͆̚ò̵̯̩̤̰̤̭̫͍̩͂̀̉͒͆̀̒̄̇̚ų̴̖̥̙̎͋̓̿̍͒̔ ̶̛͉̉̈́̇̓̓̕l̶̨͙̝̜͍̜̦͕̦͍̖̬̈́͐̀͑̇̑̍̄i̷͓̰͖̲͔̯͌̒̊ḵ̸̤͍͝e̶̮̲̱͔̭̕ ̶̧̩̻̳̼͍̩̰͖͝ą̵̟̹̜̝̜̳̘̬̥͌ͅń̵̢̢̧̙̳̜̟̜͙͖̞͚̹̆̏̊̈́̎̚͜͜ ̶͙̯̹̯͚͎̇̐̐̽͒̒e̷̼̮̼͎̻̟̘̯̊͊̇̑̄̈̎͐̂̓̓̚͝m̶̛̫̳̈́̉̏̒̽̏̿̅̃̎̐̏̾͠b̸̜̥̭̯̲̜͙͍̺̭̣͎͚́͜r̷̡̗͙̱͖̼̹̺͉̝͍͔͗͋̆̇͒̓ͅa̶̖̿̑̿̎̿̔̏̋͠c̸̛͍̘͚̞̗̳͙͔̪̳̭̝͓̲̉͑͜e̸̦̗̯̫͓̣̥̲͔͇̋̈́̅̋̐̒.̶̙̩̖̦̭͎̳̺̹͙͍̟͌͜ ̵̧̡̠̬̹̞̣̳̼͒̔͒̀͛̉̂͌͐͌̀̕͠͝Y̵̨̢̫͈̬͇͉͈̠̝͋̋͠ǫ̸͇̰̩͂ũ̴̧͕̺͙̜̲̭̃̆̉͂̓̈́͐̽̌͆̿̕͜͝ͅ ̶͕̘̪̼͈͙̼̮̍̈́́̌̓̆̾̚͝á̶̧̫̯͎̦́̿̔̃̇̈́͒̑̃͘r̸̨̞̾͂̀̀͘̚ȩ̵͍͙͖̱̰̗̤̱̮͔̐̈̔́́̀̈̀̚͜ ̵͚̝̻̬̜͚̦̥͉̇͛̒̆͐̾͊̔̚h̷̪̱͙̭̣̩̮̞͖̖̱͑̇̕ǫ̶̳͉̥̩̯̼̱͙̤̣̅̋̉͂́̿̓͛̑̀̄̕͝͠ͅͅm̴̞̺̯̗̙͎͖͍͉͓͛͐̾̐̇͆̀͌̓̍̍́̚ȩ̷͖̘͚͓͔̌̈̿͆̑̌̉̔́̍̀̓̾̕.̷̗̼̗̦̹͓̆̓͒͆̂͠ ̷̨͆͝Y̸̹͉͍̖͉̤̻̮̫͆̊͆͛̉̓̽̀͒̆͊̇̕̕ô̶̡̡̥̤̝̺̪̭͇̜̫̥̦̲̯̈́̉̕ų̵͉̖͕̯͔̇͑̀͛̂̓̓̍͝ͅ ̷̲͖̱̭͈̗͑̈͛̾̈́̉̃̂͝͠a̷̛̦̰͇̮̣͂̎́̈̕͝͝r̸̻̥̉́̂̈͒̏͆͆̏̋͂͐̕͝ë̷̢̛̫͉̯̩̠̣͈͙̬͖̜́̐͒͌̒͐͛̚ ̶̧̧̘̪̖͇̼͕̙̼̯̻̓̽p̷̢̢̫̰̻̼̞̕é̷̘͔̮͎̞͉̘̮͈̳̮̯͖̜̋̾̇̏̄̇̈́͋̌̾ŕ̸̢̺̟̤̳̲̜͕̞̰̜̀́͆͐̓͊̽̾̒͋͐f̶̩̭̬̽e̷̗̻̠̍͐͛̾͌̊͒́̿͌͊͐̉̚c̵̞̠͉̉̈́͊́͝͠t̵̡͔͓̠̣̹̦̝̜̫̮̮͆́̿̐̈́̾̒̑̚͜͝͝.̷̨̡̛̪̗͙̦̥͔͐̑̅͛͐̿̽̔̄́̓̒̚ͅ

[endlesslystarlitskies]

Lost and Found- Part 8

A/N: Here’s the next part I promised! Thank you to everyone following along with this story! I appreciate you guys!

Genre: Horror, action, adventure, Romance, Slow-Burn,  

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Named Reader (Named but not Described)

Summary: Ella was one of the missing hikers who was kidnapped by the villagers. She narrowly escaped being sacrificed, but her friends weren’t so lucky. Managing to survive out in the woods with her previous skills and knowledge, she runs into Leon, and that meeting begins the longest, most dangerous adventure of her life as she tries to help him save the girl she saw being taken into the church. What will happen along the way? Only one way to find out.  

Warnings: Canon typical violence and gore, Death, Murder, Monsters, Suicidal ideations mentioned

Word Count: 4,772

Part 7 Part 9  Story Masterlist

The settlement directly after the locked door was almost completely empty, and Ella had learned that that never bode well, staying close to Ashley as a bad feeling settled in her stomach.

They came across the large metal door, and Ella helped Leon push it open, the latter moving forward to make sure there were no enemies up ahead. “Alright, come on.” He cleared, and Ella waited for Ashley to start moving before walking, being right beside her. A gasp and scream had Ella and Leon spinning around, seeing the man with the hat, who Ella had learned from the villagers was the Chief, holding Ashley’s arm. Leon acted quickly, stabbing him in the bicep with his knife. It succeeded in making him release Ashley, and Ella pulled her away as she watched the Chief look at Leon, anger shining behind his eyes. In a fast move, he hit Leon in the chest, sending him flying to the dirt. Ella raised her shotgun as Ashley ran to check on Leon, Ella worried for him but knowing better than to take her eyes off such a big threat. The Chief turned, shutting the gates before bending the metal of the lock with ease, making it impossible to go back that way. “Your soul requires cleansing.” His words were ominous, Ella feeling a chill run down her spine as the chief turned, looking at Ashley. “Come child.” “In your dreams, asshole.” Ella muttered, firing her shotgun as Leon told Ashley to run, the man stepping back but otherwise being unaffected. Ella lowered her gun as she backed away, before following after Leon and Ashley as Villagers started coming out of their homes. 

Ella had known it had been too quiet before. She stayed behind Ashley, making sure a villager didn’t get too close as they tried to run their way through the area. “Leon!” Ashley screamed in terror as a villager made his way towards her. “Don’t worry about them!” He ordered, and Ella shot the villager in the head. “Go!” She shouted, Ashley gritting her teeth in fear before doing as she was told. The bridge leading to the other side was blocked, forcing them to go on an unstable looking platform over a ravine, and Ashley’s foot fell through the wood, forcing them to a stop. “Fuck-” Ella moved to help her as Leon shot a villager behind them. “We need to go!” Ella had to bite her tongue to keep from telling Leon his words weren’t helpful. She helped free Ashley’s foot, but the splintering of wood got her attention, the villager Leon shot having fallen back onto the bridge and now it was falling apart. “You gotta be kidding me.” He cursed, before turning to them. “Run!” Ella didn’t have to be told twice as all three of them ran to the other side as the bridge collapsed. Ella had made sure to stay behind Ashley to make sure she got across, but as Ella’s foot hit the stone ground on the other side, she almost slipped back. Fortunately, a strong hand grabbed her elbow, pulling her to safety and making her fall into a hard chest. She was glad her weight didn’t knock Leon off his feet, the blonde seeming unphased as his eyes were on something behind them. Ella turned, seeing the Chief staring at them from the other side. Leon held his gaze, his own hard as he watched to see what the large man would do next. However, after another moment, the Chief turned and began to walk away, accepting his defeat for the time being. Ella let out a breath, before realizing she was still standing very close to Leon, his hand holding her arm. She stepped away, ignoring the feeling in her chest and looking at Ashley to make sure her ankle was okay. It was a relief it hadn’t gotten hurt falling through the wood, as that would have been really bad. “Listen, you’re the one he wants. If we see him again, you run.” Leon spoke to Ashley as they walked forward, and Ella had to agree. He couldn’t get a hold of Ashley. He was too big of a threat, and getting her back would be difficult. “Wh-What about you?” Ashley asked in concern, concerned that Leon wouldn’t be able to handle The Chief. “I’ll do my job.” Leon stated definitively, his tone serious. While the statement was badass, it did nothing to reassure Ashley, and Ella decided to add a little light to the atmosphere. “Well like I said before, it’s not my job, but I’ll make sure he doesn’t get himself killed. Don’t worry.” She winked at Ashley, and she nodded, seeming to relax just a bit. Ella looked at the back of Leon’s head, shaking her own. He could be comforting, but it seemed he had no real control over it, and it was hit or miss. It was a good thing Ella was here. xXx

They cautiously moved forward, all three on edge after their encounter, and soon they came across a large building they had to go through in order to get to the other side. It was empty, so Ella didn’t think too much about it- that was until The Chief crashed through the wall and slammed into Leon, sending him down into the lower story of the building. Both she and Ashley ran to the railing of the building, Ashley screaming out his name in worry as Ella watched with wide eyes, debating if she should follow or stick beside Ashley. The Chief turned to look up at Ashley after her yell, Ella gripping her shotgun, but Leon beat her to it as he shot him in the shoulder, gaining his attention. “Cease your pointless struggling. Abandon your body to the will of our God.” His words sent a child down Ella’s spine as she was reminded of the parasite residing within both Ashley and Leon, and how it could take over them at any moment. “You’re a shitty missionary, you know that?” Leon fired back as he got to his feet, his gun aimed at the man as he stepped towards him. Ella almost wanted to tell him that now was no time for witty one-liners, but she didn’t want to risk distracting him or getting the Chief’s attention. The large man stopped, bending down to pick up his hat, unaffected by Leon’s shots. “Oh Almighty! Grant me the strength to crush your enemies!” He prayed, and Ella felt anger flow through her, her hand gripping the wooden railing. Any mention of their shitty religion was a great way to make Ella’s blood boil as she remembered that it included sacrificing others in the name of their god, and she wanted nothing more than to shoot the Chief in the head with her shotgun. “Run!” Leon's voice snapped her out of it, and Ella watched the Chief advance on him, Leon getting next to a barrel of oil as Ella saw what he was going to do next.

She reluctantly ran out of the building with Ashley so he could set the barrel off, despite wanting to help take care of the man who had been a thorn in their side for a while. Ashley came first, however. The explosion sounded soon after the two girls left the building, but Ella had a feeling that hadn’t done the trick. Ella’s heart raced as she stood outside the burning building, her worry increasing every second that passed. What if Leon could’t take care of the Chief on his own? He had been unable to thus far, after all. “You can go and help him, I’ll be fine!”. Ella turned, looking at Ashley. Ella was clearly conflicted, but she could see the young girl was just as worried for Leon. However, Ella didn’t know if she could leave her out here by herself, opening her mouth to voice her concern. “B-” “Go!” Ashley’s shout caught Ella off guard, but she didn’t waste any time as she nodded. Breaking the window and avoiding the backdraft, Ella vaulted through it, ignoring the heat as she looked at the scene in front of her. Her eyes widened at the sight of the former Chief, his body changed into that of a grotesque monster. He was large and fleshy, lined with black veins and armed with four long claw-like hands that stretched out inhumanly, the only thing left of him from his former self being the upper half of his body. The lower half was gone, what was left of his spine poking out of the remains of his back, and Ella could have thrown up right then and there. However, she watched as he threw a burning piece of wood straight at Leon like a spear, and the blonde barely dodged to the side before he started reloading his weapon. The thing was hanging right in front of the platform she was on, his back to it, and Ella snapped out of it as she moved. “Lord, grant me your strength!” The monstrous voice bellowed as he prepared to send another piece of wood at Leon, who was still loading his shotgun in a hurry. “I’ll grant you something!” Ella shouted, catching the creature's attention as he turned. He didn’t have a second to react before Ella fired her shotgun straight into his face, having been holding it out only a few inches away.

The thing crashed to the ground, a large crater in his head as he crawled forward pathetically. 

“Lord. . .Saddler. . .” She didn’t know how he spoke considering most of his mouth was gone, but soon he fell limp against the ground, Ella feeling a sense of satisfaction. She almost wondered when she had gotten to the point of not caring about the fact she was killing other humans- or former humans-, but she didn’t dwell on it. “Where’s your “Almighty God” now fucker?” She muttered, spitting the title as she did. The words had the last of her anger falling below a simmer, and she let out a breath. “I thought you didn’t like cheesy one-liners.” She looked away from the dead corpse to see Leon looking up at her, a smirk on his lips. “Yeah, well I guess you’re rubbing off on me.” She returned with a smirk of her own, putting her shotgun behind her back as she took him in. He seemed relatively unharmed, which was all she could ask for. “If you guys are done, I think leaving the burning building would be a good idea!” Ashley called from the broken window, gaining their attention. With that, they moved quickly, making it out just as the building collapsed, though Ashley had to put out some embers that caught on Leon’s shirt, before helping him up. “You’re welcome?” Ashley gave him a look, and Leon chuckled. “Thanks.” He smiled softly, Ashley returning it before Leon looked to check his weapon for a moment. “This fire’s bound to catch their attention. Let’s keep moving.” He told them, and Ella had to hold back a groan. Of course he wanted to just move forward without taking a second to breathe. She expected nothing less at this point. 

Uh, guys? I’m not going to turn into one of them, right?” Ashley asked as they walked, looking back at the burning building for a moment. 

Ella didn’t expect Leon to actually say something comforting, so she opened her mouth to answer, but he beat her to it.

“I won’t let that happen, I promise.” Ella would give him that one, thinking it wasn’t bad considering. Feeling Leon said it all, she just gave Ashley a pat on her shoulder to show her that she felt the same way, promising the same, and Ashley smiled appreciatively to them both. 

When Ashley looked away from her, Ella’s lips fell into a soft frown as she watched Leon’s back. She’d focus on making sure he didn’t turn into one of those things either. xXx

It wasn’t long at all before they made it to the stone castle, Ella’s brows raising as she took in the impressive building. She had never thought she would actually see a castle in real life, having only seen them in movies and tv shows before now. “Whoa. . .” It was huge, and as cool as it was to see one, she had a feeling that things were going to get a whole lot worse inside. That feeling was all but confirmed when the drawbridge behind them raised by itself after they crossed it, blocking off their exit. “You know. . .I had self-preservation instincts once.” She grumbled, mostly joking, but that didn’t stop her from receiving an unamused look from Leon. 

“At least we don’t have to worry about being followed.” He pointed out, trying to find the good in the situation, but Ella didn’t let him. “Yeah, or having an easy means of escape.” She immediately added, her tone sarcastic. “You’re supposed to be the optimistic one.” He sighed, and Ella scoffed.

“That’s on you for actually believing I’m optimistic. I’m a realist. I just try to keep it inside most of the time for current company.” She was of course referring to Ashley. “Then try harder. Come on.” She definitely walked right into that one, and she relented as she let out a breath. 

“Alright, into the creepy castle we go then. Whatever could go wrong?” She murmured quietly, putting a hand on her gun as they moved forward.

xXx

Luis had ended up contacting Leon, and when she heard it was him, Ella moved over to the blonde, putting her hand on his shoulder and leaning in to hear what Luis said. Leon gave her a curious look, but she ignored it. He didn’t move away so there was that. Ashley came closer as well, leaning on Ella, and it was like they were having a fun little group hustle. Listening in, she rolled her eyes when Leon joked about Ashley just having to see the castle, looking at the young blonde with a shake of her head and disappointment in her expression, making Ashley giggle. However, Ella’s attention was stolen when Luis mentioned having medicine to slow the progress of the infection. Hope blossomed in her chest, as that was exactly what they needed so they would have time to find a way to have the procedure done. At least something good would come from this trip inside the castle.

xXx Somehow, the Merchant had been a little bit ahead of the entrance to the castle, once again amazing Ella. She knew she’d get a straight answer, but she had still tried as they re-stocked their supplies. It was tradition at this point, with Ella asking and never getting a straight answer. It was like they were playing their own little game, one that Ella always lost. She didn’t really mind it, and they were out of there quickly, all three of them in a hurry to get to the courtyard and get that medicine. xXx

Leon looked through his binoculars, spotting the way to the courtyard, as well as one of those red robed, skull wearing cult members. Ella’s favorite.

“Courtyards gotta be through that gate.” He said as he let Ella take a look herself. “Don’t think our hosts are gonna roll out the red carpet.” He quipped. “Yeah, what gave you that idea? The men wielding crossbows or the giant ominous catapult?” Ella scoffed lightly, letting out a sigh as she returned his binoculars. “Have we tried just. . .asking nicely? Do you think that might earn us some brownie points?” Ella joked, and Leon and Ashley looked at each other, before shaking their heads in answer. “Damn. Well, there goes my plan.” She shrugged, earning her a small grin from Ashley, proving that she could still bring some positivity to the table without being an optimist.

xXx They hadn’t even been in this castle for an hour, and they had already met a new terrifying creature to fuel Ella’s nightmares, dodged flying, fiery rocks, and fought a horde of cult members. The good news was Ella had gotten to use a catapult to destroy other catapults and a door. It had been awesome. Ella knew better than anyone that you had to enjoy the little things. They made it to the castle doors, and Ella stopped. “Okay, if there’s another horde of religious assholes, I’m going to kill my-” Leon gave her a look of warning. “Kill everything inside.” She corrected with a sickly sweet smile. She quickly noted that he was touchy about those kinds of jokes. Ella and Leon pushed the doors open, and fortunately, there was no one there to greet them. At least not immediately. “Whoa. . .” It was Ashley’s turn to marvel at the inside of the castle, and Ella had to agree. Despite its creepiness, the castle was pretty amazing, if you took out all the cult murderers inside of course.

Walking deeper into a wide, open room, Ella bristled as an annoying, nasally voice filled the large space, the three looking up as the dumbest looking man Ella had ever seen walked into view. He wore one of those powdered wigs and old-timey English outfits, his face ghostly white with powder, and blush covering his cheeks. “Oh what the hell-” Ella grumbled under her breath, having never could have guessed that someone like this would be their next obstacle. This castle was already shaping up to be the worst thing that could have ever happened to them. “A most warm welcome to my castle.” He spoke up as he slid his fingers against the fancy railing. “Such a pleasure to finally make your acquaintance, Mr. Kennedy.” He leaned forward, sneering down at them. Ella’s immediate reaction was to wonder if she was chopped liver, but she quickly decided she wasn’t upset that the man didn’t acknowledge her. 

“Who, the hell, are you?” Leon asked with furrowed brows, clearly sharing Ella’s immediate annoyance and disgust with the man. 

“Me? Oh please, call me Ramon. And allow me to get straight to the point.” Oh wonderful. Ella really didn’t feel like sitting through a stupid monologue. “I would like you to hand the girl over to me. . .now.” He gestured to Ashley, and Ella glared, hating that he thought he could just ask and they would do what he said. “Yeah, fat chance Ramon. The girl’s just fine, with me.” Leon immediately declined in that condescending tone Ella was starting to love (as long as it wasn’t directed towards her).

“Mr. Kennedy, Mr. Kennedy.” Ramon’s disappointed and annoyed tone ticked Ella off as she watched him press his fist against the railing with every title. “How noble. Nonetheless, you see, the girl must be ours. With the girl as the very source, your United States, and then-” He threw his arms out and his head back. “The entire world shall overflow with his grace! For that, is the Iron Will of my Master, the most Holy, Lord Saddler!” Ella’s grip tightened on her gun as she scowled. They would never let that happen. “So then, you will comply, yes?” Was this guy serious? Ella knew she had joked about asking nicely, but she would have never actually tried it, unlike this man, who had to know that they wouldn’t just accept like that. “Never!” Ashley snapped definitively, wearing an angry expression of her own. “You heard the lady.” Leon stepped forward. “Yeah, that means fuck off Powder puff!” Ella added her own flare, just wanting this guy to shut up, and it was then he acknowledged her for the first time, wearing the most disgusted expression as he looked down on her. Ella was taken back by it, wondering if he had really hated that insult, or if there was something else to his glare. “How unfortunate.” He sighed, before snapping his fingers and turning towards the two very large and terrifyingly dressed guards behind him as he folded his hands behind his back. “Do make sure our guests feel at home, now that they have chosen Death.” The guards opened the door for him, Ramon disappearing behind it just as the one directly under the upper floor opened, castle guards with different weapons and shields filling the room. “Oh great. Here we go again.” Ella sighed, grabbing her shotgun and stepping in front of Ashley, alongside Leon.

xXx

Ella really hated the men with large wooden shields. Dealing with them was difficult, as they hid behind the shields constantly, making it hard to land a shot. Which she knew was the entire point, but she still hated it. Fortunately, Leon had used a small hand grenade after a minute, taking care of them quickly. The rest weren’t so difficult, though one of them had the large parasite that grew out of its head, the thing having teeth, and Ella despite it. Leon and Ella caught their breaths for a moment, before looking around to find a way through the castle, as the large doors the guards had come from were now locked. It took them a minute, but Leon hoisted Ashley over a wall, and she unlocked a metal gate for them, giving them access to an opening in the wall they had to squeeze through. This led them downstairs into a creepy, circular room where there were bodies hanging by chains on walls and doors, and a low growl emitted from somewhere nearby. “God, I hate this place.” Ella murmured, feeling nauseous as she looked away from the rotting bodies. More evidence of the innocent people this cult had hurt in the name of their religion. She didn’t understand how anyone could justify murder in this way. What kind of God asked that of their followers? 

She shook the thoughts she knew she would get no answer to from her head, focusing on their surroundings. The door they needed to go through was locked, and the three searched around in hopes of finding a way through. Fortunately, Leon found the key. Unfortunately, it was on another dead body. Ella was just glad she didn’t have to look there, as she didn’t know if she could handle getting that close without throwing up. She didn’t understand how Leon could be so casual about it. Leon had turned to walk back towards them, Ella stepping back to get out of the hallway, ready to get away from this area so she didn’t have to smell the bodies any longer. However, when Leon walked onto the wood that was between them, it gave way, the man disappearing from their sights. “Leon!” Ashley shouted as Ella ran to the edge, looking down in search for him. She had worried that the fall was high, but fortunately, her eyes found him quickly, and Ella let out a breath. 

He looked perfectly fine, if not a bit disheveled from the fall, Ella preparing to help him back up. She stopped, however, when she watched Leon freeze as he looked up at something Ella couldn’t see, the girl opening her mouth to ask but being cut off by Leon’s hand telling her to be quiet. Ella felt anxiety fill her as she quickly realized there was something else down there with him, but what could it be? 

Leon made a hand motion, Ella interpreting it as him telling her he had to go around, and she nodded, watching as he crouched down and moved as quietly as he could out of sight. When she couldn’t see him, her anxiety worsened, but she knew she couldn’t leave Ashley behind, no matter how much she wanted to follow him down and make sure he would be okay. She had to remind herself that he could take care of himself, and Ashley couldn’t. However, she almost abandoned that all completely when the sounds of crashing metal hitting stone sounded, and Ella watched as a large creature with long, razor sharp claws suddenly ran in the direction Leon had gone with a roar, the only thing stopping her being Ashley’s startled gasp at the loud sounds. Ella mentally cursed, getting away from the hole in the wood and mentally berating Leon for falling down in the first place, even though she knew that was unreasonable. 

He just always had to get himself into trouble, didn’t he? Why did she get attached to someone who was so prone to danger again? It wasn’t her best life decision, that was certain. xXx

After what felt like forever, the gunshots subsided and were replaced with a silence that made Ella’s heart pound so loud she could hear it. She was sure he was fine, but she couldn’t help but worry as the seconds ticked by. 

Soon, however, she heard movement to the right, behind the metal door a body had been hanging from. She immediately raised her gun, preparing for an enemy, but as blond hair came into sight, relief washed over her. “Leon.” She breathed, feeling all her anxiety subside as she holstered her gun. “Hey, sorry.” He could tell she had been worried, and Ella pressed her fist against his chest, not unlike what he did to Luis back in the house where they fought off the hordes of villagers, though much less rough and violent. She could feel his heart beating beneath her closed hand, which helped get rid of the rest of her worry. 

“Could you try never doing that again please? It would be greatly appreciated.” She murmured, the relief doing well to cover the slight shakiness still in her voice. Leon chuckled, his hand covering hers for a moment. 

“Yeah, I’ll do my best.” He promised, and Ella nodded, removing her hand and turning to the door they could now open. She noticed Ashley was looking at her, meeting her eyes and seeing the knowing glint, but she didn’t understand what it was for. Ashley didn’t say anything, the three moving forward as Leon unlocked the gate. “So what happened down there?” Ashley asked as the door creaked open. “Nothing. You were right about the animals though.” Leon answered, referencing a comment Ashley made after hearing the growling before Leon fell through the floor. Ella wanted to scoff, wondering what kind of an animal had metal razor sharp claws and a sickening roar. She was just grateful Leon was okay. 

xXx

After dealing with two puzzles involving gongs and swords, they circled back to the room they had been in before, now being on the upper floor. Leon had decided he wanted to jump across chandeliers, and as much as it looked like fun, Ella knew when she could and couldn’t do something, letting Leon take that on and being amused at Ashley getting on to him. The young girl seemed very concerned with Leon’s willingness to jump across the decorative lights, as if the man wasn’t constantly doing far more dangerous things. Eventually, Leon unlocked the door that had been keeping them from the platform on the other side where the doors were, both girls heading that way. “Leon are you kidding me? Jumping across chandeliers, seriously? Who does that?” Ella pursed her lips to hold back a laugh as Ashley continued to scold him, making Leon chuckle.

“What’re you my mother?” He joked, Ashley giving him an unamused look at that, and Ella couldn’t hold back a light laugh that time, finding that the two acted like siblings in the way they bickered with each other. 

“Alright you two, let’s get going yeah?” She shook her head, opening the door for the three of them since the other two had been preoccupied. Making it into the next room, the three made their way down the stairs before an intercom on the wall sounded as an eerie laugh echoed through the speaker. Ella quickly realized who it was, letting out a sigh of annoyance. She had hoped that somehow, they wouldn’t deal with him again, even if she knew how unlikely that was. “Salutations, Mr. Kennedy. Are you ready to hand over the girl?” The more he spoke, the more Ella realized she really hated his voice. “Not this guy again.” Leon breathed in annoyance, and Ella hummed her agreement. “I’ve taken the liberty of preparing some entertainment for you. Without further ado: The Gallant Knight protects the Princess Fair!” Did her powder puff comment really piss this guy off so much that he was just completely ignoring her existence? Ella didn’t know whether to be happy or offended at that. Ashley shuddered as the intercom cut, Ella not being able to blame her. That guy was creepy as hell.

“Well, that sounds like fun.” Ella sighed, knowing they would have to go through Powder Puff’s entertainment in order to move forward through this damn castle.

They tried the door off to the side that led to a small library, but the only other door in there was locked, which meant they’d have to go through the hallway to the large wooden doors.

Ella knew this was about to be a real headache.

[quarantinegirls]

Hot dogs and fresh clams

“What does it mean, ‘Cuckoo for chocolatey milk?’ Do you say ‘CUCKOO’ when the milk turns chocolatey?” I ask my husband, jesting.

“No! LOL. Cuckoo is this bird on the packaging.” He points out the bird to me. Cuckoo has large, animated eyes; it’s gripping a cup of - wait for it - chocolatey milk. Cocoa Puffs jump out of the cup like a bouquet.

I’ve been on a quest to try all the American childhood staples. It started with an impulse purchase at Target one day after gym, when Ben realized I’d never had Dyno Nuggets. I was excited, because I’d heard a lot about this famous frozen number.

My first impression of Dyno Nuggets was admittedly mediocre. With Chicken McNuggets as my only reference point, Dyno Nuggets lacked the saltiness and chew that only McDonald’s fake chicken mix could provide. 

“Kinda bland” was my verdict. I didn’t immediately understand the chokehold it has on millions of American children.

But like all mediocre things at first bite, Dyno Nuggets only had one place to go: up. It quickly climbed my charts, as the convenience, taste, and fun of it proved irreplaceable by any other snack. 

I made it for Ben after church when he did yard work. I didn’t like yard work or the sun. But I ended up eating half the nuggets and feeling too bad not to join him in the yard anyway. 

I had it on Hilton Head Island after Ben’s niece and nephew went to bed. A bunch of us adults came back from a brewery with midnight munchies, and Ben’s brother threw a bunch of Dynos in the air fryer that came with the vacation rental. He said the correct way to eat them was to bite off a limb, dip in ketchup, and say rawrrrrr. I said ‘sure’.

I had it after a stressful final-round interview one Tuesday afternoon. I came downstairs, entirely unsure of everything other than my empty stomach, and saw that Ben had made a batch. Golden Dynos in their perfect crunchiness, accompanied by a small side of ketchup.

I picked up one piece, bit off a limb, dipped in ketchup, and murmured, rawr. 

When I cook Chinese food, Ben likes to say the kitchen looks like a battlefield afterwards: bowls, pots, pans, and condiments everywhere. And he's right! I’d wave my hands and mention the fickle nature of Chinese dishes, that you need to keep an eye on them at all times lest they burn. Stir-fries go from unrelated raw ingredients to one big thing of smoky goodness, each having a little bit of another, in mere seconds. Minced aromatics need to be kept separately before hitting hot oil. Light soy sauce, dark soy sauce, cooking wine, and sesame oil come in unforgivingly large bottles. To make Chinese food, I tell Ben and myself, is to practice peak hand-eye coordination. 

‘Inside you are two wolves’, they say - maybe for ambitious people. Inside me, it’s really just two hungry dogs. One craves hot dogs with mustard and relish, the other wants freshwater shrimp marinated in Shaoxing Wine; one gets excited for a really saucy pasta, the other thinks about steamed clams all the time. 

This past year, as I approached 30 and lived with my Romanian-American husband in a city that’s predominantly white, the Chinese part of me at times felt further out of my reach than ever. I’d go days without speaking one single Chinese word, and wondering how I’ll raise my future children, speaking to them in a language I didn’t speak until 16. It saddens me to think about the things I already know they won’t understand: the colorful metaphors, the rich idioms, the deep, unspoken traditions, and a history as long as the Yangtze River. 

But they also won’t know the discomfort of being an Asian immigrant in America, or the pain of living on the opposite side of the planet from their family. This will be their home. And when they, like me, get tired of cereal and chicken nuggets, they’ll reach for their phones and google how to turn their kitchens into battlefields.

- R

[lucifermorningstxr]

Lucifer smiled proudly at Asa's compliments. His party trick wasn't among the greatest of his abilities, but it sure led to a deal of world-class debauchery. "Thank you! Don't worry. My divine whiskey is divinely crafted to go easy on the supernatural stomach." He smirks and sips his own glass, leaning in to hear the continuation.

His brow raised all the while, Lucifer didn't mind the perception their angles created. The story was fascinating, and there was no greater place to enjoy a story over a drink than in his own den. At the mention of the Church, he straightened up a bit. "Ah, right. Dear old Dad's ego can only get bigger, can't it? And he says I have an ego." He focused in on the cross for a moment before resting his gaze back in sync with Asa's. "Talk about an ending! Shunned by Dad, ostracised from his community, and all with the realisation that his life's purpose was now meaningless." With that, the Devil downed his glass in one swig, coming off the empty crystal with a satisfied exhale.

The man's laugh shattered the silence, and it was certainly a welcome sound. Lucifer sighed into his own laughter, his glass already refilled. "Exactly... although an eternity's worth of being the token bad guy does have its ups and downs, I suppose." The smile on Lightbringer's face was as bright as his namesake. It truly felt amazing any time someone saw the truth of the story. "So, Asa... tell me. What do you desire to happen in the next chapter?" His eyes steady on the other man.

Lucifer refilled his own glass and took a sip, his eyes fixed on the man opposite him over the rim. "Perhaps next time he visits, I'll give you a call then." The space was becoming tense with supernatural sex appeal, but the Devil wasn't complaining in the least. Oh, power dynamics.

At Asa's next remarks, the Morningstar raised a brow. "Oh? I must say your desires are truly intriguing." Although the fallen Angel hadn't began the night with the intent of being bitten, he usually his nights lead him into all kinds of deliciously sinful fun. Needless to say, the idea wasn't entirely out of the question. "How are they, by the way? Better than any distillery, hm?"

He leaned in as his new acquaintance spun him his tales. His elbow on the bar top, he listened. Their eye contact locked all the while. "Don't you just love a damned good nonfiction book, Asa?"

[pedrito-friskito]

no control - matt murdock x vigilante!reader

summary: matt’s been thinking too hard, and needs you to…help.

warnings: mentions of canon-typical injuries, sub!matt, religious mentions(?), oral (f receiving), p-in-v sex, reader bends matt to her will a little and here we are

a/n: no thots head empty matt murdock on his knees (putting this under the kitten and the devil cuz technically it is but this is mostly just smut, not a lot/zero plot 😋)

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Matt feels like his brain is on fire.

He can’t stop thinking, can’t stop worrying, can’t stop running through ten million different what ifs and scenarios in his mind. The state of his city, the state of his world, the state of his life. It’s overwhelming, making his throat go dry and his knuckles tense around whatever he can get his hands on; his cane, a cup of coffee, your hips. He can’t sleep, he can’t eat. He paces the apartment while you doze in his bed, worn out from your own patrols and general bad-assery. You’d come in early, clutching your arm, the coppery taste and smell of blood lighting Matt’s senses. 

It was a shallow cut, nothing major, and you’d whined more about the hole in your suit more than the gash in your arm. He’d stitched you up anyway, kissing your forehead when he was done and tucking you into his bed.

Then he’d paced the apartment, chewing at his nails, the scent of you back home easing him slightly but doing little to stop the madness of his mind, the anxiety in his gut. Eventually, he fell asleep in the living room chair, neck twisted at an awkward angle. You’d been too tired to notice he hadn’t come to bed, but when he woke, there was a blanket draped over him, and the familiar imprint of your lips on his cheek.

He can hear you humming a familiar tune — Sinatra, he’s pretty sure, Fly Me to the Moon — and it rouses him as he puts the blanket aside, gets to his feet on aching joints. Then he pads into the kitchen to find you standing at the stove, your back to him, spatula in hand. The savoury scent of hash browns fills the air, your favourite spice mix invading his nose, and there’s fresh coffee in the pot.

You’re wearing one of his button ups, none of the buttons in their rightful places, the sides hanging open and just barely covering your chest. It makes his cock jump in his sweats just hearing the rustle of the fabric against your skin. As soon as he’s close enough, he puts his arms around your waist, reaching up to pull the shirt collar away from your neck so he can bury his face there, stubble scraping your skin and making you hum, the song forgotten and replaced with the pleased noise.

“Forgive me, kitten,” he whispers against your pulse, “for I have sinned.”

He closes his teeth around your neck then, sucking a bruise into your skin, eyes rolling back at the taste of you and the way he hears your heartbeat stutter in time with his ministrations. He lets both hands go wide, one resting against your stomach, the other moving lower, sliding down your thigh and then squeezing the flesh, feeling your muscle jump.

He hears the curve of your grin, playful and sweet. “You realize we’re not in a church, Matthew,” you say quietly, reaching up and turning the stove off. You turn slowly in his arms, and he lets his hands slide across your body as you move, his palm coming to rest at the small of your back, fingers settling in the notches of your spine. His other hand reaches up, tucks a lock of hair behind your ear, nails scraping lightly down your jaw. “Most of the things we’ve done within these walls are anything but holy.”

Matt grins, pushing at your back, closing the small distance between your bodies. You make a mewling sound when his hips press into yours, the clothed outline of his cock against your stomach. “True,” he admits, and slides his hand into your hair, gathering it in his fist and tilting your head to the side with his newfound grip. “Even so, I need…help.”

“Help?” you repeat, your breath hitching when he lowers his face into your neck once more, mouth working at the bruise he’d already left, making it bloom further. “Tell me what you need, Matthew.”

Matthew. How is it that something as simple as his full name can render him so vulnerable to you? He’s still trying to figure that out. “I need,” he says against your pulse, “to stop thinking. I need to stop trying to be in control. I need you to do it for me. Just for a while. Please, kitten.”

You slide your arms around his shoulders, hands roving his bare back, tracing his scars and kneading his flesh. It makes him moan against you, gathering you closer to him, finally feeling that knot of worry start to unravel within him. “I can do that,” you whisper, and he lifts his head, mouth not leaving your skin, travelling up the curve of your chin until he reaches your mouth, kissing you roughly, sinking his teeth into your bottom lip. “Just for a while.”

He melts into you, drinking down the taste of you like a man dying of thirst on a deserted island. Your hands start to move, tracing his outline, finding more scars to trace, more muscle to outline, more flesh to press. You move backwards, guiding him away from the still-hot stove, towards the small wall between the kitchen windows. He hears your back impact, shoulders shifting against the brick.

You plant both hands on his shoulders then, your nails digging into his muscle just enough to make his lips part. You push gently at first, just enough for him to take the hint, and then the push grows firmer. He’s slow to sink down, using his hands on your hips as leverage.

“On your knees, Matthew,” you whisper, your voice husky with lust and like honey to his ears. “Kneel.”

It’s exactly what he needed. You catch his chin in your hand, thumb rubbing across his stubble, up and over his bottom lip. When you push the tip of your thumb into his mouth, he moans, closing his mouth around the digit and sucking, revelling at the taste of your skin. Then you push on his shoulders again, and he goes.

He worships you all the way down, pushing away the fabric of his shirt on you body, dragging his tongue down the middle of your chest, over your sternum. Your nails dig in deeper when his knees finally hit the hardwood, his face level with your underwear, and he ghosts his mouth across the fabric, sighing into you when your scent intensified, thighs quivering as you adjusted your stance.

“Take them off,” you whisper, “like a good boy.”

He can’t stop himself from groaning, pushing his face closer to your core, cock throbbing between his legs when he feels the fabric grow wetter, the taste of you tainted by the barrier between but delicious all the same. But you stop him, one hand moving to the crown of his head, knuckles locking in his hair, yanking his head back. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to remind him what he asked for. He grips your hips tighter, instantly drunk off the feeling, eyes rolling back as your nails drag along his scalp.

“I said, take…them…off.”

He obeys, the worry unravelling completely, unspooling through his body and leaving only tingling nerves behind. It’s a miracle he doesn’t shred the fabric, and though all he wants to do is dive in when you’re bared to him, he stops, tilting his head back, waiting. Asking.

You reward him with a smile, your grip on his hair loosening. “You know what I like.”

God, does he ever. Permission granted, he slides between your parted legs, hooking one shoulder under your thigh until your knee bends over him, heel dragging down his spine. Your scent overwhelms him now, his brain going empty of all thought as he puts his mouth to the inside of your thigh, lapping at your skin, swallowing down the wetness already gathering. You’re always so wet for him, so pretty, so perfect.

“No teasing,” you chide, your hand tightening again slightly. He nods dumbly against your skin, lifts his jaw, and drags his tongue up your slit. His tastebuds implode with the combination of your scent and taste, and he moves up slightly so he can suck at your clit, rejoicing in the moaned echoes of his name falling from your lips and the way your heartbeat picks up when he gives you just a little bit of teeth.

Your body folds in half when you cum, choked moans of his name reaching his ears and both your hands wrapping around his head, holding him buried in his favourite place on earth. He takes whatever you give, licking you through it, hands wandering around to squeeze your ass.

He can hear the heave of your chest when you start to push him away, nudging his head and pulling your leg from his shoulder. He goes, almost unwillingly, daring one final swipe of his tongue from your still-dripping entrance to your clit. It earns him a harder nudge to the centre of his chest, but Matt doesn’t care, leaning back on his knees, tilting his head towards you, licking the taste of you from his lips and chin.

“On your back,” you demand, pushing at his shoulder, and he goes, twisting his knees under him until he’s flat on his ass. You lower yourself, his shirt landing in a puddle of fabric on the counter as you go, and he feels your knees either side of his ribs, wet hot heat hovered above him, messing with the temperature of the air in the most perfect way, leaving him itching to touch himself, to give himself some sort of relief.

You do it for him, reaching back for the waistband of his sweats, pushing them down his hips until his cock springs free, smacking against your ass. It makes his whole body jolt, every nerve doubly sensitive. You adjust, dragging your drenched core along his length, and he keens up into the touch, hands reaching for your body, your hips, your ass, anything he can grab onto.

But you beat him to the bunch, fingers curling around his wrists, and you force them back, over his head, pinning him down, leaving him at your mercy. His head is empty, save for the scent of you, the feel of you, the taste of you. “I’m in control, Matthew,” you purr, your mouth close to his ear, and he arches up into the sound, jaw going tight. “It’s my turn.”

You have good aim to start with, and he’s grateful for it now, with the way you nudge your knees slightly wider, curve your back, and slide right onto his achingly hard cock. It’s an easy slide, your wetness guiding him into your heat, still tight and delicious and making his eyes roll back so hard it’s a miracle they don’t fall right out of his head.

You feel like heaven, just like this, your hips flush with his, cock buried deep inside you, your strength keeping him pinned in place. He’s wanton with his moans, praying to God that you’ll kiss his mouth, his neck, his chest, anything; he just needs to feel your mouth on him somewhere.

You feel like heaven, but then you start to move.

It’s an uninterrupted pace. You find your rhythm and run with it, hips lifting and falling onto his so hard he actually sees stars, white dots shooting across his flame-tinged vision. Every slam and he’s that much closer, every deep grind and he’s straining in your grip, but it’s exactly what he needs.

No control, no control, you’re in control. He doesn’t need to be, not right now.

“Matthew,” you call, pulling him back to himself, his name high-pitched in your throat. “Baby, I’m gonna cum.” You release his hands, straightening your back, and there’s only one thought in his head: you’re gonna cum, and he’s gonna help you get there.

One hand reaches for your chest, grasping your breast, pinching your nipple between his knuckles, while the other moves down your body, falling into the curve of your hip while his thumb lands on your clit. A few tight circles, a hard press, and you’re gone again, body going taut and your core so tight around him it makes him cum, surprising you both.

He gathers you into his chest in an instant, fucking up into you with what little stamina he has left. He cums so hard he forgets where he is, for a moment, teeth sinking into the meat of your shoulder while you sink a hand in his hair and tug.

You both collapse onto the floor a moment later, chests heaving, hands still half-clinging to each other. You blow out a breath, head lolling towards him. Your eyes flutter shut, and you tilt your head, pressing your mouth to his shoulder in a soft kiss.

“Let’s just stay here,” you whisper, “just for a while.”

—————

murdock tags: @saintmurd0ck @moonlarking @steadyasthe-flowers @freshabogados @mindidjarin @lazyxsquirrel @hellskitchenswhore @hoewkeyesblue

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[primofate]

im feeling kinda akward since its my first time requesting,i really really really like your writings and im wondering if you could do some angst for albedo, anything you feel like tbh, but if may i be a little selfish i was thinking on something like he hurt you, so you break up with him or maybe he break up with you and regret later, im in love with the genius and your writings so why not lol, hope you are doing well, xoxoxooxox

Thanks for the request anon. <3 Sorry it took so long, but I’m feeling angst today so here goes. Let me know what you think <3

QUEUED POST

Scenario: Breaking up

Characters: gn! reader x Albedo

Warnings: angst, break ups, regrets, did I say angst?

Categories: angst in Part 1, comfort in Part 2 (It was getting too long so split it into two parts)

Read: (Part 2) (Part 3 - Final)

Albedo

Alone.

These days you found yourself alone in your shared home. It had been nearly a year since the two of you decided to live together. Maybe that was a bad idea.

You were smitten. He was such an intelligent man, and truth be told you loved how his mind worked. He was silent and mostly kept to himself at first, but with you, there were subtle touches, fleeting kisses. Oh and his eyes, the way his eyes brightened or the way his lips turned up at the sight of you. The way he held you close at nights, up until the morning.

Gone were those days. 

He was hardly home. The intelligent man you had fallen in love with, was also a workaholic. Perhaps you should’ve seen it coming. There were so many signs.

Maybe he changed. Maybe you changed. But the little things weren’t enough anymore. He came home just to sleep and wake up, and he was off again. 

“Bedo, have you got some time off on the weekend? We haven’t been up to Starsnatch Cliff in a while,” you had prodded him a few days ago, wondering if the problem would be solved if you made the first move. 

“Sorry, Y/N, we’re just about to discover more about the properties of electro crystals... It’ll be useful if we want to sustain higher energy concentrations on...” and just like that he had gone off a tangent explaining the whole thing. You smiled a little, it was still endearing how excited he got discussing those things. 

But you couldn’t help but be lonely at how he seemed to love his research more than you. 

‘Maybe I just need to be more proactive. That’s it! I’ll go and visit him at the lab today!’ Surprising him was one of the things that you had always wanted to do. But not a lot of things got past Albedo. He was observant like that. You made a quick run to the bakery, getting him some croissants and welcomed yourself into the Favonius Headquarters. 

You looked up at the sign on his laboratory door. That sign was always there though, Klee had told you about it, and Sucrose had also talked about it once or twice before, telling you that it wouldn’t be a good idea to go in if the sign was up. But when was it ever down? So, you shrugged, and pushed the door open with a wide smile.

“What are you doing here?!” There’s a wild look in Albedo’s eyes the moment you step in. He didn’t appreciate being disturbed. You tilted your head a little at his reaction, you weren’t expecting that.

“Oh, since you’ve been so busy these days I just thought I’d drop by and give you something to--”

“Y/N, did you not see the sign on the door? No disturbances, even from you,”

“I’ll just be quick, I’m just dropping this off,” you lift the paper bag from the bakery and lay it down on the nearest table. Albedo closes his eyes with a sigh. 

“...We’re working on something dangerous right now, I don’t have time to eat. Please take it back,”

Surprisingly, you obey quite quickly, and take the paper bag back into your hands. Annoyance start to pulse in your veins. “Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

Sucrose had been standing there the whole time, and you can see the slight wince on her face at your cold statement... But Albedo had returned it ten fold, snapping an answer back. “Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

You didn’t expect how much it would sting. Your shoulders slump downwards at the realization that this... had gone too far. You couldn’t take it anymore. Sucrose opens her mouth, but doesn’t know what to say looking back and forth between you and Albedo. 

The Kreideprinz had continued with his task as if nothing had happened at all, but he knew what he said. He didn’t want any interferences nor accidents happening in the lab and that was the only thing he cared about at the moment. 

Your foot moves to step back, but your eyes are glued to Albedo. You can only see his back. His hair tied up neatly, the shoulders that you loved to wrap your arms around and his hands that were always gentle. You took a good look, drinking the whole scene in like you hadn’t had a drop of water in days. 

This was the last time you would lay eyes on him and it broke you into so many pieces. You turned away without another word, Sucrose staring at the door, before she decided that she needed to follow you. “I-I’ll be back, Master Albedo,” she rarely ever abandoned an experiment, but she knew that you needed a friend right now. 

Ironic, because it should have been Albedo running after you, but instead the green-haired girl caught up to you just as you reached the fountain in the middle of Mondstadt. “Y/N!” she jogs, and stops when you do as you hear your name.

Tears prickled your cheeks, but they were more of frustration than sadness. You stand there for a moment, drying your tears and turning around towards Sucrose, gaze on the pavement. “Y/N...” Sucrose approaches carefully, hand resting on your shoulder.

“...I don’t know anything other than Albedo, Sucrose,” you start, a curtain of memories flashing through your mind. “...Without him, there isn’t much reason for me to stay in Mondstadt,” Sucrose shakes her head rather hastily. “H-He’s just... a little occupied right now, Y/N, I’m sure he doesn’t mean what he said,” You close your eyes, the scene repeating in your head.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

A hard lump forms on your throat at how hard you try not to sob. How hard you try to keep yourself together and Sucrose sees it from the way your lips tremble. “Sucrose, please watch over him,” and that is also the last that Sucrose sees of you. 

That night, Albedo arrives home exhausted, just as he always does. But now that he was home, he could at least expect a warm meal and a warm hug. A soft smile tugs on his lips at the thought.

When he turned the lights on, he was met with a strange stillness instead. His hand stays on the switch as his eyes scan the living room. It was...quiet. There were no plates on the table, and there were no sounds from the kitchen.

Deep in the pits of his stomach there’s an anxiety that starts bubbling up. He brushes it off, opting instead to check the kitchen. “Y/N?”

Empty. 

His footsteps hasten as he opens the bedroom door, expecting you to be curled up there, asleep. 

Empty.

Albedo takes in a shaky breath. You were probably just out in town, doing some late night shopping. Yeah, that’s it, perhaps you just didn’t have enough ingredients for dinner today and--his eyes land on the bedside table.

The photo frame is gone. The photo of the two of you standing side by side together with comfortable smiles on your faces, his hand on your waist, and the house on the background. 

He throws open the closet doors. Your clothes are gone. Your shoes are gone. Even your scent seemed to have disappeared. The anxiety that was once a small bubble in his stomach had started to claw it’s way out, wrenching his heart in places that he didn’t know could hurt. The tears pooling in his eyes were so foreign that he didn’t even know what was happening until he hears himself gasp back a sob.

You’re gone. 

Suddenly it was so hard to breathe, but he pulls himself up and out the door. There’s no way. Where would you go? Perhaps you were just around Mondstadt, trying to get a breath of fresh air to calm your nerves. He searches everywhere. The church, the tavern, the Good Hunter and even atop the rooftop of the Favonius Headquarters. There was a decent view of the city there, and his eyes roam the streets, just to get a glimpse of you.

“...Please...” There’s another lump in his throat, his eyes dart around looking for any small sign of you. 

“Albedo? Tired?” you ask as he returns home one day. He merely lets out a small “Mm,” and pulls a chair out from the dining table to sit on. You walk into the kitchen to fetch him a cup of tea, and he snatches your hand to press a soft kiss on the back of it. “Thank you, love,” 

“...Please!” his grip on the stone walls of the rooftop tighten. His vision blurs.

“Al! Don’t do that!” you try to swat his hand away from the pot, a short laugh coming off of your lips at how mischievous he could be sometimes, trying to dip his finger into the sauce. He has a grin on his face as he successfully tastes the sauce off his finger, making a sound of approval as he draws you in for a light kiss on your forehead, “It’s good, as always,” 

His legs buckle, and he finds himself on his knees, hands fisted upon the cold stone wall. “At least tell me where you've gone! I can’t--” he doesn’t know when the last time he cried was, but whenever it was, he doesn’t remember it to be this bad. The pain was unlike any injury he had, it grasped so tightly at his heart.

“Anything else you want me to do? Maybe disappear so I don’t bother you or your research so much?”

“Yes, Y/N, that would be excellent, don’t get in the way. Stop being irritating at the wrong moment,”

He furiously shakes his head because he knows that it was his fault. “I didn’t mean it, please give them back,” as if there was someone else who took you away. As if there was a God listening to him right now. 

He realizes that the worst of it was not that you had left, but that you had left no traces of you behind. No photo. Not a piece of clothing. Not a trace of your existence.

Nothing for him to hold on to.

That night, he dragged himself back home. Face flushed and hot from the tears he had shed and the ones he was attempting to hold back.

That night, he painfully got into bed.

Alone.

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[boxboysandotherwhump]

Paxton's dad finds out that he is a pet.

So Paxton’s dad learns what happened to his son. Paxton is 19 when this takes place. 

Taglist: @ashintheairlikesnow @vickytokio @thefancydoughnut @finder-of-rings @orchidscript @morelikepainsley @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @wolfeyedwitch @haro-whumps

CW: Homophobic insults, homophobic father, parental abuse, 

„Iwan, hey man, it's your turn.“

Iwan Bednarek startled out of his sleep deprived stupor. The gray food tray fell out of his hands, landing on the cafeteria counter with a loud clatter. The thin plucked brows of the service woman behind it rose, blue eyes narrowing in disapproval. 

“Sorry. A bit overworked.“ Iwan forced a smile and got a flat, “sure, honey. Aren’t we all,“ in turn, alongside a plate of chili con carne and a sad, slightly dried out piece of bread. Shooting him a questioning look, his coworker followed him to an empty table. They barely sat down when Miguel opened his mouth. „You came back from vacation only last week man. Real talk, what’s going on?“

‘Nothing’, sat on the tip of Iwan's tongue but his resolve to continue business as usual crumbled under the honest concern of his longtime colleague, or, dare he even say friend. 

„My son.“ He blurted out, mind racing a mile a minute and still lagging behind his mouth. Where was he even supposed to start? All his hunger gone, Iwan pushed the plate aside as if it had made him sick, instead of the last argument he had with his son. His own words from four days ago sat heavy in his stomach, their weight growing with every passing day. His knuckles still hurt on the right hand, their thin skin scabbed.

It’s not that he had been wrong but- His wife was right, he shouldn’t have lost his composure like that. 

Iwan swallowed. Tried again. „My son went missing.“

Miguel's eyes grew wide in his narrow face, showing just how much younger he was compared to Iwan himself. „Shit man. Do you know- I mean did someone, ya know?“

Iwan shook his head at Miguels vague hand gesture. „No one kidnapped him, I don’t think. We had-“ He inhaled. Deep. „-an argument. It got very… heated. You know how it is. A good father has to be strict. And with a son like him even more so.“

„What do you mean?“

Iwan shifted under Miguel's innocent concern. It wasn’t his style to wash his family's dirty laundry in public but he really needed to talk to someone who wasn’t his crying, worry ridden wife. Besides, worse things have been discussed in a WRU lunch room. Still, his handler uniform stuck to his back as Iwan glanced around the hall, ensuring no one else was in ear shot. 

„He has certain tastes I can not abide. Not as a good Christian.“

„So he’s gay?“

„Not so loud.“

Miguel almost laughed, souring Ivan's already bad mood even further.  

„So what man? There are gay priests for gods sake. No one would chase your son out of a church just cause he like sausages instead of-“

„It’s not just that!“ Iwan burst out, face heating in anger. „And don’t talk this vulgarly about my son.“

He glared down at Miguel from where he had sprung to his feet. Fists pressed into the table. They ached where his knuckles had split under his temper and against his son's face. 

 „Okay. I’m sorry, Iwan. Okay? C‘mon man, the lunch lady’s glaring at us. Sit down.“

Nostrils flaring, Iwan let himself fall back into the creaky plastic chair. 

„So you guys had a fight and he ran off? Right?“

Iwan gave a tight nod, eliciting an almost impish smile from Miguel. 

„I did that too as a kid. My old man was strict jus‘ like you, but tell you what, I still loved that old geezer. Always ended up back home. I‘m sure your son’ll show up again. Give him time to cool off.“

Memories of the evening they had gotten back from the airport flashed through Iwan's mind. How Kasimir had heaved the suitcases up the stairs to their house, phone falling out of his pocket as he worked. How Iwan had picked it off the sidewalk, discovering it unlocked from the fall. He didn’t mean to snoop but his son had his nose buried in that thing the entire ride home. It had driven Iwan nuts. 

But not half as nuts as the things he found on that phone. 

Iwan didn’t remember how he had gotten up the stairs and into Kasimirs room. One moment, he stood on the porch, sun burning down his neck when in the next he was in front of his son, fist bashing into his cheek. 

„I doubt that ‘cooling off’ will be enough. Kasimir is a whimpy boy, always has been, for him to dare run off. I- I don’t know. I tried to be a good father but-,“ Iwan glared holes into the cafeteria table, voice rough. „I overstepped. What? What is that look for now?“

„Nothing.“ Miguel busied himself with the chili, picking his bread apart to pepper it over his plate. „S just not like you to, ya know?“ Another vague hand gesture. „Admit when you're wrong?“

„Because I seldomly am.“ 

The bushy raised eyebrows in Miguel's face suggested otherwise, but Iwan didn‘t get the chance to argue. A brash voice cut through the dining hall. Their superior stared at them from the entrance, signaling them to cut their dinner short with an impatient wave. 

Perfect.

„Move it Bednarek, we need you in sector D. You too, Hernandez. Miller's new trainee is finally wiped, but he called in sick. You gotta cover for him.“

„Millers?“ Iwan’s fingers curled into fists. „Sir you know I do not train romantics.“

„You don’t have to train him. Only put him in his cell. All the data is on Hernandez's phone. We woulda have needed the drip room empty two hours ago.“

Knowing his superior's temper was shorter even than the man himself, Iwan turned on his heel and hastened down the hallway without another word. A curt nod the only goodbye spared. 

„Hey, man.“ Miguel's footsteps behind him picked up speed. „Wait.“

Annoyance pulsed behind Iwan’s eyes in the form of a growing headache.  

Goddamn sluts were nothing but trouble! At least they fetched the company enough money to cover his dental.

Ready to punch the key code in, the silently fuming Iwan was held back by Miguel, who quickly stepped between him and the door. 

„Why don’t you let me handle this today?  Hey man, don‘t gimme that look. I know you're the best handler of the domestic division ‘n all but with romantics- stuffs a lil different. Especially at the beginning. We want them to trust us, alright? And with your mood-“

„What’s with it?“ Iwan barked, cringing as soon as the words left his mouth to confirm Miguel's point. Crossing his arms Iwan stepped further back from the door, glaring a hole into the white concrete wall next to Miguel's smugly smiling face. „Fine. The pet is all yours.“

Miguel turned, typing the passcode in with one finger and a „thanks man,“ so gentle it had Iwans hackles rise. There was no reason to put kids gloves on around him, he was just worried about his stupid good for nothing son, for heavens sake, its not like anyone died. If he hadn’t felt fit for work he would have stayed home. 

A wave of cool air wafted into the corridor as the door opened with its familiar ‘click fssshhh‘, a sound so ingrained into Iwan's life he heard it in his dreams sometimes.

Shielding his hands from the cold by sticking them into his pockets, Iwan followed Miguel into the room, contemplating if he should go and retrieve his leather gloves from the car later. He scanned the room on routined instinct, the white clean tiles, the drip already removed from the pet's wrist, disposable parts neatly stored in a small plastic bag hanging from the stand and ready to be collected by the cleaners. Iwan paid more attention to his colleague than the pet, its long limbs curled around a shivering, hunched body. A tuft of black unruly hair was nearly hidden behind pale arms. 

„Rise and shine 626.“ Miguel beamed, all cheerful hospitality. Iwan never understood why some of his colleagues bothered if they had to round them up later on anyway. There was no place for kindness in training. Bright smiles and gentle touches were unwelcome visitors, spoiling the merchandise and making the training process harder on anyone. „You're gonna get your very own room today. Are you excited?“

„Yes, Sir.“

Iwan froze. Hands turning to ice blocks in his pockets.  

That voice.

Warm and quiet and still shedding the squeakiness of puberty. 

He would recognize that voice among a choir of thousands. He knew what it sounded like laughing, or crying, or asking for ice cream on a blistering summer day. He knew how it had turned to raged sobs during their last fight. How it had broken. He knew how that voice sounded begging for forgiveness, babbling ‘please, I can explain. Please papa!’

Slowly, Iwan turned. Numb body moving against his will. A bead of icy sweat trickled down his arm. His uniform stuck to his back, his neck. 

Their fight played through his head, a broken record on loop. 

You aren’t my son! I didnt raise a faggot! My son wouldn’t ever look at this sado-maso filth! That’s for pets! Not people! Aren’t you a person? Don’t you have dignity?! 

“Kasimir.” It was barely a whisper, dry lips parting around a name his son couldn’t remember any longer. 

His son's gray eyes, still hazy from the drip, blinked up at Iwan's colleague, utterly oblivious to his own fathers presence. His existence. The limbs of Kasimir’s lanky body stuck out from his oversized trainee uniform, making him look like one of the art dolls Iwan's sister collected. There was an angry greenish bruise blooming in his pale sweaty face, a few bandages plastered over a split lip, a lacerated cheek. 

Iwan's heart dropped, turning into a dead stone somewhere in his rioting guts. 

Have I- 

He never meant to hit this hard. 

Proszę, wybacz mi

Had his son fled to wru, crying and bleeding, only to get patched up and lured in with promises of a better life? Where you scared? As you signed? As the drip erased you? Did it hurt? Did they hurt y-

“There you go.” Miguel unclipped the security leash from a hock in the wall and helped Kasimir stand on wobbly legs. “Good boy. We’re gonna go and hit the showers first. Getting you nice and clean before training starts. Doesn't that sound good 626?” 

Iwan's heart kicked into a rapid fire frenzy, beating so hard every pulse echoed through his skull. The ice in his hands was replaced by liquid fire. His blood boiled him from the inside out. It was too hot. The room blurred around him. 

„Don‘t call him that!” His own shouts cut through his dizzy haze, small and distant, as if coming from above water. There was water in his eyes. He couldn’t see.  “Don’t you dare call him by a number! His name is Kasimir. My Kasimir. My little boy.“

Miguel's lips moved, forming words Iwan didn’t hear, talking to him, speaking into his phone. Wide eyed. Arms wrapped around him, holding on tight. Holding him in place. Preventing him from going to his son, cowering in a corner and staring at him.. Iwan struggled. There were handlers storming into the room, taking Kasimir away. 

His Kasimir. His baby boy. “What have I done? What have I done?”

[revclations]

it was strange seeing winnie in his home amongst all his personal belongings, walking past family photos on the walls or the coffee mug sitting beside the kitchen sink from that morning, it was as though his old life and new one were coming together in a way that was both exciting and terrifying. whatever alone time they'd spent together before that moment had always endured the threat of someone stumbling across them, and in a strange way that had allowed for some kind of escape when it felt as though things were getting too much to handle. when the emotions felt too strong, too intimidating to face in the moment, they'd had the option of running away with the claim of it being best to wait until they were properly alone to address such big feelings. well, that moment was finally there and jude could see the nerves souring winnie’s otherwise pretty face. "thank you." he responded politely to the compliment before scratching his clean-shaven cheek somewhat awkwardly. for a man who spent so much time amid public speaking, there was still a part of him he could revert back to that shrunk away, that shy little boy who had cringed so heavily being watched carrying the censer down the church aisle. "uh, sure, please." he gestured towards an old wooden shoe rack, empty other than his smart black loafers and winter boots. people didn't come visit him often at his house, and he spent so much time at the church that it had taken a long while to actually make it feel like a home but it was comfortable enough. "how are you feeling?" he asked as he led her further into the house, his hand returning once more to her lower back as he guided her towards the living room. it had been a heavy day, filled with emotions both good and bad, it would be good for both of them to take some time to process what was happening between them and how they were going to move forwards with it. jude knew there was no more running away from his feelings, but he also wasn't willing to stomach the idea of ruining his life because of their secret affair. he could have both, they just had to be smart about it.

after their initial meeting in the church— the night that changed everything— winnie didn't know what to expect. there was an idealized version of events she'd been holding onto in her head, one where the next time they saw each other, they'd be unable to resist their mutual yearning and immediately confess their undying love for one another, but unfortunately, her fantasies were far from reality. jude had ended up practically ignoring her entire existence at the next sunday mass, not only as if nothing had happened between them, but as if she wasn't there at all. it'd only made winnie that much more determined to get through to him, doing whatever she could to get his attention; her little scheme hadn't worked out exactly as she'd planned, with the pair experiencing a few hiccups along the way, but he'd eventually admitted his feelings for her just as she'd hoped, ending in the outcome that'd frequented her dreams for the past few weeks. there was still uncertainty regarding just how they would move forward, but winnie had never felt more hopeful in her life. now, as she made her way to the priest's home, long after the town potluck had ended and after her rightful date had dropped her off at home only for her to fetch her bike and turn right around to ride in the opposite direction, she was filled with giddy excitement coursing through her veins. making it to his house, she threw a cursory glance over both shoulders, quickly checking to see if there was anyone around before approaching the front door. it was her first time at his home, their first time being alone somewhere truly private where there was no danger of being interrupted, and for some reason, she couldn't push back the nerves stirring within her gut as she stood on his doorstep waiting to be let in. "hi..." she murmured, still shy despite all that had occurred between them. once inside, she stood a few feet from the doorway, twiddling her fingers and awkwardly shifting from foot to foot as she waited for some sort of direction. "you've got a beautiful home, father. real... clean." as much as she longed to go exploring, familiarizing herself with a space she'd no doubt be spending a lot of time in going forward, her manners prevented her from overstepping any boundaries, instead looking around to study every inch of his home she could see. "you want me t' take my shoes off?"