#i cannot BELIEVE they went through all of this

[yeonniesblog]

Kuroo x reader x oikawa

Synopsis : After years spent by a certain setter along with a small toddler mending you heart, your life was a just like a blissful movie with a happy ending. But little did you know the person who gave you not only the worst years of your life but also the small ball of sunshine, decided to suddenly make a appearance in your fairytale when fate played a wild

reader's note : this is the last chapter, make sure to read it in order! Sorry for the angst hehe.

Part 1 : meeting you again | Part 2 : wouldn't you | Part 3 : broken promises | Part 4 : where it all went wrong | Part 5 : enough for now (current one)

“she is a fucking psycopath” kenma sighs, putting the car in reverse as he pulls up in his driveway, eyes fixated on the rear view as kuroo watches the irriated expression on his face.

“dude, chill I know you hate kizumi, but I might marry her” kuroo sips his coffee as he lets out a shallow grunt in annoyance too, what was he doing in life.

“no, just think about it, she specifically asked for the ring you bought to propose to y/n, when she knows you could afford to give her much expensive one right now, but, again I repeat. she asked specifically for that ring, only”

the black hair man groans at the explanation, he knows his friend has a point, but he is trying to gaslight himself into believing whatever kizumi explained to him. “i think she just likes it, she was the one who chose it too, all those years ago—” and before kuroo could finish his sentence, the half blonde cuts him off, swiftly taking out his phone from his pocket and muttering something to it “siri, how do you block people in real life”

“yeah, okay, this is a kuroo hate club, I get it” the man sighs, propping his head back on the headrest, closing his eyes. “honestly I know her behavior is weird, but I’m in a tight spot, my only left family is nagging me to marry her, and you know I could care less about marriage” he pauses taking a deep breath. “dad is legit emotionally blackmailing me, sitting at his stupid hospital bed probably faking his disease”

“they want you to marry, doesn't necessarily have to be her” kenma suggests, opening the seatbelt around him. “i cannot marry a stranger, kizumi is a better option, we have been dating on and off for one year” the rooster haired man replies, honestly he really wants to jump off a cliff, but he will suppress the impulsive urges.

“as a rebutal to that, one thing you said was right” kenma sighs finally looking at his friend, kuroo looks tired, or is aged that appropriate word. “her behavior is weird, it's like she has more attachment to y/n than you, she is insecure as fuck of her. you, me and her, we all know she won't ever level up to the place y/n has in your heart, so she trying to become her, its giving me chills” kenma shudders at that thought, physically gagging.

“do you think it's too late for me to get a therapist?” with that kuroo tetsuro groans one more time.

kuroo sits quietly, hands clasped, looking up with hesitant eyes as he watches you put your purse on the table, stoice face, yet so pretty.

he really meant it when he said you got more gorgeous over the years, there were few lines now adorning your face, mature and elegant glow.

even if he sometimes wonders if it would have been better if you both never met at all, if it would have been better if neither of you had to go through the heartbreak, but he knows,

if there was a spell to go back in time, to where he met you, he would do the same thing. he would make a silly chemistry joke and wait for you to laugh at it, not because it was funny, no it was because it was so bad you laughed at it, it was his fault wasn’t it?

to loose the most precious thing in his life, did you feel worse than him, it wasn't a question, nor a comparison, he wanted to know because he will never forget or forgive himself to give you so much pain over the year.

what did you name the kid? did oikawa tooru’ see how your son took the first steps, was he the one who got called father first, what's his favorite food, does he have a birth mark, does he like volleyball? is your son’ tastes similar to what is his? Just like how he saw the little kid adorning your homely baked goods, similar to what he himself used to do.

it pains him, physically pains him to know he wasn't there for anything, he wasn't there to make you food, hold your hair while you threw up during you morning sickness, not hold your hand while you went into labour, he wasn't part of any of it, six years sometimes means nothing and yet to him, now, it means everything, it means every important thing he lost.

“you don't know how much draining this is for me, to be talking to you, or as a matter of fact to talk about what happened, cause honestly you deserve nothing, not the explanation, not to meet me or ruko” you break the silence first, firmly sitting at your place.

and kuroo wishes he could repent on all the thing you said but the only thought in his mind is what you named your son “his name is ruko?”

“his name is oikawa saruko” you firmly state, a small smile tugging at you lips, you were proud your kid had a father like oikawa, cause you can't imagine anyone else being a better father than him.

tetsuro has never wanted to be in someone else's place as much as he wants to be oikawa now, he sighs at your words. “why didn't you tell me, I would get it if you wanted to get away from me, but don't you think I deserved to know the kid was mine?” his voice quivering as he asks you the question, a weird pang in his chest.

“i tried, I tried so many times” your voice quivers slightly “why do you think I asked for your opinion to have a kid?” that silents the man infront of you, his pupil dilated as he realizes how he explained it, and how it sounded like a definite ‘no” from his side.

“not to mention, even after that I was going to tell you, with my parents kuroo and you didn't show up” he relishes at how defeated he feels when you don't even call him by his first name, so the announcement when you called him was with your parents? his legs tenses up and he stops shaking them.

“i know I don't have any excuse but you know there was a storm that night—”

“yet you left me all alone in that storm, tetsuro” his heart breaks into million pieces, do you even know how much he just wants to pull you close and cry, stain your shirt with his tears of sorrow that he made a mistake and couldn't be in your presence and of joy because after years he was able to see you.

“i—y/n” he tries to put his hands over yours but you are swift to pull away, he knows a million reasons of why your reflex action was right, yet he can't help but feel his throat becoming dry “i’m sorry, I assumed you were with your parents, I had no idea, my phone was dead”

“how can you still lie to me?” your voice croaks, finally looking straight into his eyes, you really don't want to care for whatever his action was or what he did but you can't help but feel wronged.

“what do you mean lie?”

“so your phone was dead enough to not respond to my texts but it was working when you reposted on social media with your now girlfriend, her friends commenting how cute you both looked” you scoff pausing in disbelief “or should I say fiance”

“whatever are you sayi-” then it clicks, it suddenly clicks how kizumi’s friend has always shipped him with her, despite knowing he has a girlfriend, despite him saying he doesn't appreciate it, that it straight up makes him uncomfortable.

how kizumi knew, that your birthdate was his password to Instagram, he remembers her saying it was so cute, its laughable to think how dumb he has been, how could he not notice her intention. but he wishes you told him, he wishes he could have cleared off the last misunderstanding and if he could take it all back he would.

hell, he would never breath the same air as kizumi if he could go back in time and fix things. but he cannot, all he has is regret and all he can do his atone for his mistake, he was hoping you'd be kind enough to let him see his son, he hasn't been a great partner but he sure as heck wants to have some influence in your son’s life—

after all, it was a part of you and him, back then if he actually heard you were pregnant he'd probably be scared as shit, but he would still fight every odds to raise the kid you made, how could he ever resent a mini you, kuroo knows he has no right to feel wronged but all those years without the little guy or even acknowledgment of his existence makes feel burnt.

his lips shaky and he doesn't know if a explanation would even help at this point, nothing would change and even if kizumi was in wrong– so was he though. his mouth ran before he could know.

he looks up at her. “I know you don’t owe me anything, but there’s something you need to hear" your eyes held anger and he was scared of that, he wanted to scream please forgive me, over and over again in a chant but he knew he didn't deserve your forgiveness.

you crossed your arms, wary but patient. you had no idea how you still held on. but they say but they say old habits die hard, and even after six year you had the same patience for him, you wanted to laugh at yourself “Go on.”

“It was Kizumi,” he begins, voice low but firm. “She… she’s the reason things fell apart. She was jealous of you, of what we had. She deleted your texts that night—the ones you sent me about the announcement. She posted on my social media to make it look like I was with her. And she—”

"You didn't know?" your eyes widened and you had no idea how to feel after hearing that, conflicted feeling filled your lungs and the wall of resolve you have solidified getting cracks of doubt in them, but you remained firm.

“No,” Kuroo says quickly, his voice thick with regret. “I was blind, stupid, and I didn’t see what was happening. I let her control too much. I thought I could trust her. But I swear, if I’d known—” He stops, realizing that no matter what he says, it won’t erase the past.

you stare at him, your face unreadable, but there was turmoil behind your eyes “So, you’re saying it was all her fault?”

“No. No..no.” Kuroo says firmly, shaking his head. “It was my fault too. I let her into my life, I didn’t listen to you, and I didn’t fight for you when it mattered. That’s on me. I just… I need you to know that I didn’t abandon you on purpose.”

you exhale slowly, looking down at you cup, a closure huh? but what does that change ? you know oikawa is much more important to you now, nothing could change that, nothing could make you ever abandon the perfect family you have right now. “I believe you, Tetsuro. But that doesn’t change what happened. You weren’t there when I needed you, and I had to pick up the pieces alone. Oikawa was there. He’s been there for me and for Ruko.”

even if there is a shaky heartbeat you feel around your past lover you know it was not meant to be. there are so many things unsaid and there will be so many things which will be, you are a mom now and you could never be an careless one. and as much as tears were welling up in your eyes for what could have been, you won't risk anything for what it is now.

Kuroo swallows the lump in his throat. “I know. And I’m glad he’s been good to you both. I just… I missed so much, Y/N. I want to know him. I know I don’t deserve it, but I want to try.”

bonus scene

Kuroo sits on a bench, watching from a distance as you and Oikawa playing with your son, Ruko. The boy—his son, biologically—has Oikawa’s mannerisms but your smile. Kuroo’s chest tightens as he watches the little boy stumble, only for Oikawa to sweep him up, spinning him around while you laugh.

They look like a family. They are a family

Kuroo thinks to himself, maybe this could have been you both if he wasn't consumed by the thought that you both would also be horrible parents much like your families.

you notice him then, your gaze meeting his. There’s no anger in your eyes anymore, just a quiet understanding. you approach him cautiously, arms crossed. “You’re here,” you speak, trying to keep your tone neutral.

“I just wanted to see him,” Kuroo admits. “I won’t interfere much. I just… needed to see him.”

You sit beside him, keeping a respectful distance. “He’s happy, you know. Oikawa’s a good father. He loves Ruko like he’s his own.” and that breaks kuroo's heart, as much as he tries to look positively at this. He can't help but feel his heart become empty, can't help but wish to be where oikawa is right now in your life.

Kuroo nods, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I can see that. He’s a lucky kid.” you glance at him, your expression softening. “I know the truth now, about Kizumi. About what happened. I’m… sorry you were caught in that.”

“I’m sorry too,” Kuroo says, his voice breaking. He knows it's not enough but all he can do is regret it over and over again. “For everything. For not being there, for letting you down. I should’ve fought harder for us.” you look away, your gaze fixed on Oikawa and Ruko. “Maybe. But it’s too late now, Tetsuro. We’ve both moved on.” and he feels a bit happy, you used his first name, God he is so pathetic

“I know,” he whispers, his heart breaking all over again. “But I’ll never stop wishing I could go back and do it right.” and before you are able to say anything you notice a small figure approaching you, you feel at ease when you notice it's your son, oikawa stood a bit away, he felt protective over you both but he doesn't want to snatch away the closure you deserve, and he can't snatch away ruko from his biological dad. so he stays silent cause he knows ruko would pick him for sure, he loves the little guy to death after all.

“Ruko, this is… this is Tetsuro,” you say gently, getting up from the bench only to kneel beside your son.

The boy looks up, curious but cautious. “Hi,” he says softly, clutching his toy dinosaur.

Kuroo crouches down, his heart aching as he gets his first close look at his son. Ruko has Y/N’s eyes and his messy black hair. He smiles faintly. “Hey, buddy. That’s a cool dinosaur you’ve got there. What’s his name?”

“Cupcake,” Ruko replies, holding it up proudly.For a moment, Kuroo wants to giggle, pondering why a dinosaur would be named Cupcake, but he holds back, his lips twitching into a soft smile. “Cupcake, huh? That’s a pretty unique name. Why’d you pick it?”

Ruko beams, his small chest puffing up with excitement. “Well—it’s not weird, okay? It’s ’cause I love dinosaurs and I love Mom’s handmade cupcakes, so I mixed two favorite things at once!”

Kuroo freezes for a moment, his breath catching in his throat. Cupcakes. His gaze flickers briefly to you, you who look away, your expression unreadable. He remembers countless nights when he’d come over to your place, exhausted from work or practice, and the smell of your freshly baked cupcakes would make him feel like he was home. They were his favorite—a sweet, simple treat that reminded him of your warmth.

And now, their son shares that same love.“That’s… that’s actually genius,” Kuroo finally says, his voice hoarse with emotion. “Cupcake is the perfect name for a dinosaur. You’ve got great taste.”

Ruko grins proudly, going on to describe Cupcake’s many adventures and how he takes the toy everywhere. Kuroo listens intently, his heart clenching. There’s an ache beneath his chest—a mix of pride, love, and regret. He and Ruko have so much in common, and yet, this is the first time he’s learning it.

The realization stings, and he resents you a bit for that but it also fills him with a bittersweet joy. Ruko is bright, imaginative, and full of life. He’s a part of you and him—a reminder of what you both once had. And kuroo decides he can live with that. That's enough for now isn't it?

Finally ending this series, I get embarrassed whenever I reread it but it was my first series and it has been in my drafts for years. But here I ending, thank you for everyone who waited for this.

Here is the taglist (it's based on people who were waiting for it) : @reikashe @mikaela26sstuff @chita318 @mxrice @freddiemylovelg @glxar @amarinthe @rinsangel @captainchrisstan @gamacha @cheeseriz @pluviophilefangirl @bnha-bakusquad @asaitashi @lordmomourmomoness @missyasmim @macky-attoh @belle643 @on-crows-wings

[itwasntimethatdidit40]

How could you love somebody like me?

Pairing: f!reader x Javier Peña Words count: 3032 Rating: + 18, NSFW, MDNI. Summary: Javi is under protection and has asked you to join him in the hotel room where he is confined. When you discover his secrets and lies, however, that room will become too small. Too small for both of you. Tags/warnings: POV second person, no use of y/n, Javi is still a DEA agent but it's a modern setting so the man has a smartphone. Reader is described having female genitalia and breasts, no other description of her is given, she doesn't blush and her hair is not described. Mention of alcohol, mention of cheating, Javi is a cheater, no happy ending, we will go through the man's phone (you're not supposed to do that but I never said my reader could do no wrong, right?), use of pet names (gatita which means kitten in Spanish, baby, darling), smut, angry sex, unprotected p in v (do better irl), cream pie, of course a little nipple play ‘cause it’s still my fic, toxic relationship, self doubt, mention of Steve, a huge pile of lies, Javi is bad at feelings, some reader’s thoughts marked in italics. I think it's all, let me know if I forgot something and I'll add it right away. A/N: Written for @jolapeno 's "Dear-uary" challenge. This was my prompt, I struggled a little bit at first but I ended up having a blast writing this ❤︎ Heavily inspired by this song (from which the fic also takes its title), I heard it randomly on Spotify one day and I thought "wait, this is perfect for Javi!" and I ended up being obsessed with two more songs by the same artist. LOL Many thanks to: - @aurorawritestoescape , my beta, for her help and advice, she will probably dream of elephants because of me tonight hahaha Kate I own you a big one, thanks baby so much, I love you ❤️ - The person who basically pulled this out of my brain and supported me throughout the process, my precious, my peanut @joelmillerisapunk. 🥰 Love you so much it's ridiculous🥹 - @milla-frenchy for letting me blather about this thing some days ago. Love you, bb ❤︎ English is not my first language, every single mistake is still on me, I deeply apologize if you find any.

“Why the hell am I here? Was I the only available hole this week?”

“No,” he whispers. 

“So what?” 

Javier came back and found you in the middle of the room.

You were brandishing his phone like a sword in the air, the banner of everything that was wrong.

His face went pale when he saw you like that. 

Eyes wide open. 

Mouth agape. 

He tried to say something but you immediately hit him with a vomit of words.

“I know what you’re doing,” you hiss under your breath, feeling your eyes sting.

Javier is a marble statue in front of you, his lips pressed together, his absent eyes not even looking at you, staring at a spot behind your shoulders, his arms abandoned along his sides. 

He seems anchored to the ground. 

His last words to you still burn on your skin like a fire you cannot extinguish.

A heavy silence between you fills the air of the room and makes it unbreathable. 

“Fuck, Javier, talk to me,” you whisper angrily.

You clutch his phone in your hands, so tightly that your knuckles are white from exertion, as if you were clinging to it to keep yourself from falling off a cliff. 

“You knew I was no good,” he says sternly.

You have been in this room for two days. 

Officially, Javier has to stay here because henchmen of one of the new drug lords in town are set on taking him out. 

Unofficially, he has you infiltrating the room. 

Typical Javier, spending his time under protection fucking someone. 

You foolishly almost believed it was romantic, until this morning. 

“So you’re trying to say that it’s my fault? Is that what you want to say? It’s my fault that as soon as I turn my back you go and stick your cock in someone else's pussy?” You don’t even have the strength to scream right now. Your voice comes out rancorous but low, hoarse, like a blown growl. 

Oh, you’re not going to accept being lectured by him, fuck no.

“No, I’m just saying -” he tries to explain and you glare at him, making the words die in his mouth.  

"What?" 

“Fuck, I'll never change,” he shrugs as if it were a truism that only you can't grasp.

His eyes shift to the ground, dull and absent.

“You don't change because you are convinced that you can't,” you admonish him, feeling anger rising from your chest. 

"That's not true," he murmurs, keeping his gaze on the crimson and gold carpet that lies at your feet.

“Yes, it is,” you insist, ”and you seem to like to think of yourself as an incurable asshole.”

He still fails to see the real problem, the elephant in the room that lives and thrives among you. 

"Then you tell me, if you think you know me so well,” he asks with defiance. 

“You bet I fucking know you,” you lash out. “You think you're so mysterious and complicated?! Well,  news flash, I've seen plenty like you. You’re just another man. You're not even that, you're a child. A child who's afraid of his own shadow when it comes to relationships.”

“Don’t fucking analyze me,” he hisses, finally setting his eyes back on you. 

Raven, angry and fearful. He knows you can read him like an open book and this unleashes an awareness upon him that crushes him to the ground.

You bitterly laugh, “Truth hurts, huh? I know something about it”. 

The wrinkle between his eyebrows deepens, his nostrils flare, and his mouth tightens into a line so thin you think he’s about to burst. He stays quiet instead, eyes back on the damask carpet decoration. 

_____________

“Yes, Steve, I'm fine. That jerk won't find me here, and anyway it's full of police outside the door.” 

A pause and a sigh. 

”No, no one followed her, they don't know who she is.”

You stood behind the half-closed bathroom door listening. 

You smiled. 

His voice sounded softer when he talked about you. You lulled yourself into that feeling. 

Until you heard something else. 

A booming laugh. 

Water ran in the shower, tiny droplets coated the wall as the mirror fogged up.

“Whatever. Of course I'm still screwing around. At least, I was doing it before that asshole started chasing me,” his voice suddenly lowered so you took a chance and opened the door a little more. You wanted to make sure you heard right. 

Your hand trembled against the doorknob, you grabbed your wrist to hold it steady. 

“You idiot,” he scoffed. “Yeah, we'll be in touch.”

Suspicion. The black wing of a crow that had been wrapped around your heart for a long time.

But then why did it hurt so much? 

You allowed yourself to hide it in a part of your brain where you never looked-that was a mistake. Making the hunch barely a firefly when it was supposed to be a bright neon sign.

He always places the phone with its screen down when you go out to dinner, softly smiling at it when he checks it after a few vibrations, telling you “it’s Steve” when you ask. 

But you know that crooked smile. 

He dodges when you ask him about his day "oh work, you know, just work." 

He tells you he is with Steve but you hear female voices in the background. 

Every time you try to confront him it always ends the same way, him telling you, “you’re paranoid, there’s no one else, just you, baby. You’re the only one I want.”

And then he fucks your doubts into oblivion.

You heard the thud of the phone on the blankets. And then Javier calling you. 

You swallowed the gall rising from the walls of your stomach and just smiled when he joined you in the bathroom and suggested that you shower together.

You wanted some proof before you charged him. 

If there was anything you had learned from being with him, it was that hard evidence was the key. So you played cool. 

He fucked you against the shower wall and you moaned into his neck. 

He licked your pussy like a man starved and you just bit your lips until you felt iron on your tongue.

He kissed you with that liar's mouth, and you let him.

And you fell asleep beside him, on the unmade bed of your uncertainties. 

This morning someone from outside called him into the hallway to report the latest movements of the guy who was looking for him. 

His phone was on the bedside table.

It was like a magnet, pulling your hand to it.

You were almost sure you knew his unlock code ‘cause you had watched the movements of his finger many times. 

You tried twice without success. 

The third time you let out a long sigh, visualized in your mind the movement one more time and unlocked it. 

You were in. 

Your heart was beating wildly in your chest as your fingers swiped and clicked on the screen. 

And there they were.

Dozens and dozens of messages and pics exchanged with 4 different women.

You scrolled through one of the chats with a certain Maria, who regularly sent him pictures of her tits and her legs spread wide, her pussy in the shot.

There was sexting, arranged dates, same promises he gave to you, things you never asked for but he kept repeating like a broken record. Even the same pet name. Gatita. 

Blood simmered in your veins, a jolt in your heart, throat dry. 

Your finger furiously scrolled through the chat, finding tons of messages he had sent her while he was with you.

You switched to another one and you found pretty much the same. And yet another, message after message containing flirting and explicit sex.  

“Oh Javi, you keep getting better and better with that cock of yours”

“My pussy needs you, darling, can you come over?”

“I can’t stop thinking about your huge cock dripping on me”

And the more you scrolled, the more a question formed in your brain, rumbling through your temples like a deafening drum. 

Was he ever sincere with you?

________

When he looks up at you again, you see it. A veil of fragility in the dense blackness of his gaze.

He looks almost helpless. “I know you tried,” he admits, ”You tried harder than anyone else.”

“Apparently it was no use,” you chastise him.

He doesn’t reply. 

Instead he comes closer and closer. 

You pull back, responding to his every step forward with a backward one. 

“Please,” he whispers. 

“No.” 

“Don't do that.”

“You have no right to tell me what to do,” you bark.

”I know...” 

“Fuck off, Javier, leave me alone.”

You pull back until you hit the wall behind you. 

Javier approaches, bending slightly to reach your mouth, his mustache brushes against your cupid’s bow and you don't even have the strength to turn your face away anymore. 

When your lips collide you let it happen. 

It’s like when you drink too much Tequila. 

It burns on your tongue, leaving you almost anesthetized as soon as you down it, and then an aromatic taste wafts into your mouth; it is lysergic, unusual, unmistakable.

You love it, so you keep doing it.

Javier is the same. 

He's sharp, stiff at the edges, burns like fire, but he has an aura that you won’t mistake for anything and he hypnotizes you. He’s not like anyone else, despite what you told him. There is an underlying despair in him, a cry dying in his throat, “How can you love someone like me?” 

He says it only with his eyes but you hear it clearly.

He is a time bomb that explodes in your heart every time he touches you. So you keep doing it.

“Fuck,” you whisper against his lips. 

“Yeah…I know. I’m not worthy.”

And yet, you’re still here.

You let him peel off your every layer of clothing, to leave you naked and vulnerable in front of him. 

You do nothing when he undresses too. Hastily taking off his shirt, fumbling with the button of his jeans, nervous hands and short breaths.

It is like some mind fuck game, intoxicating, dangerous, capable of leaving permanent marks.

He lowers his jeans just enough to free his cock, no boxers. Always ready.

His hands run over your hips and you groan. 

His tongue slides over your neck, his eyes closed, his breath heavy and warm on your skin. 

He makes you cry, but you don't say no.

His lips latch onto your nipple and adrenaline rushes through your veins up into your head, hitting hard like a jackhammer.

You don’t pull back anymore, you push your tit into his mouth so eagerly you feel his teeth closing on your bud and you whine in pleasure. 

His growing erection leaks against your center. You are trapped. Not so much because you are between him and the wall but because you no longer know how to get him out of your head. 

Right now it doesn't matter how much it hurts. 

He slides his hands down your thighs and you know what he wants, without needing to speak. You wrap your legs around his waist. He kneels on the bed with you still clinging to him, you lie back on the soft blankets that smell of you both, arch your back and press against his cock. You folds splayed and dripping for him.

His fingers go up your rib cage, stop under your breasts and grasp there, he draws you back to him and your mouths collide again.

You let his tongue enter. You let the fleeting pleasure of this instant take over all the no's you know you have to say.

There’s no right kind of love here, this room is drowned in angry sex.

Angry at how you can never say no to him, angry at how he makes you feel, angry because you know that no one has ever fucked you the way he did, invading your body with a pleasure so addictive that it makes you sick. Angry because maybe he's right, he can't change. 

You break the kiss and bite on his shoulder, a small act of revenge that really does no harm compared to your bleeding heart. 

Your hands grasp on the golden skin of his back, leaving marks with your nails digging into it, your miserable attempt to leave marks on him in return.

You moan convulsively under his touch, your mouth wide open against his, your tongue desperately seeking him out. 

His hands tighten on your ass, lifting you slightly, his cock slides over your wet opening, a guttural sound comes out of the back of your throat without you being able to hold it back. 

You want him inside you. 

You need him inside you.

And it’s wrong, and desperate. It’s masochistic.

You don’t even care for his jeans’s zip scraping your skin.

The thin line between pain and pleasure is so blurred now.

It’s a pathetic shit show of need and urgency. 

You’d walk away from any other guy but Javier is the person you can never have just for yourself and at the same time he is the only one you want. 

He is the knife and the wound at the same time.  

When he asks “Whose pussy is this?” in his deep groaning voice that fucks directly with your brain, you can only reply “yours.”

Digging your nails deeper, biting more, wailing louder but just pleading with him.

You take his shaft in your hand and rub it against you in blind desperation, wetting it with your juices. 

He groans into your ears while his hand reaches for your nipple and his big strong arm holds you close.

You are sitting on his thighs, your legs crossed behind his back.

His fingers pinch your nipple as you don't stop stroking his big throbbing cock.

Just put it in there. You think. I just need to feel your flesh against mine, inside me, claiming me like the rag doll that I am now. 

Stupid bitch trying to have you when you’re damaged like a shattered glass, when you can bring nothing than heat to my body and freezing ice to my heart. 

“Fuck me,” you groan. 

He pushes against your core, entering you with one deep thrust.

Your pussy is weeping so much it doesn’t even hurt.

You clench on him with all the strength you have, chocking his cock with your walls.

“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re gripping me so hard, baby. There’s nothing you want more than this, huh? Me fucking you raw?” 

“Shut up,” you hiss. 

He starts moving, pumping into you as his hand reaches for your clit, brushing it in circles.

You whine, clinging onto his back, your face hidden in the crook of his neck.

You can’t look him in the eye, you can’t face your own shameful reflection in his pupils, you can’t think of anything else than this pleasure firing your body, your limbs, your mind.

Your pussy never gets the memo when it comes to him. She just clenches, and cries and asks for more.

At the verge of your brink, when you’re so utterly overwhelmed you could swear, you’re about to jump out of your skin, you hear it.

It’s the softest whisper on your skin, so low you barely catch the words, “I love you” 

You cry a single tear that slides down the column of his neck, it could be mistaken for a bead of sweat so easily and Javier doesn’t notice it. But it’s there. You’re crying again.

You come, weeping.

Grasping to him like your last shred of hope.

But there’s no hope anymore.

You know you can’t go on like that.

You cried before. You argued before. It’s all useless.

A devastating orgasm shoots through you, leaving you without defense.

It’s the last thing you want but you need to get it over with. 

You lie on the bed, feeling his last twitches inside you, his cum dripping onto your walls, his cock pressing against that spot that belongs only to him.

He lies down on you, gently crushing you with his weight, his sweaty skin against yours, the smell of your orgasm filling your nostrils.

You’re hopeless and breathless. 

He's still inside you, like he doesn't want to leave. 

You know you have to. 

Eventually he shifts, lying on the other side of the bed muttering, “god, you really are something else.” He takes the pack of cigarettes from the nightstand and lights one, taking a long drag.

“I'm not enough,” you want to scream looking at him through the cloud of smoke enveloping him. “Or maybe you're not, for me.”

When he is about to fall asleep, you get up. You pick up your clothes off the floor and put them on silently.

“Where are you going, gatita?” he grunts. 

Does he think he has solved it? Does he think you will forgive him as you did the other times? 

"You only ever tell me the truth when you think I won't hear it,” you breathe, before coming out of the door without turning your back.

You leave him there, wondering what you were referring to, lost as he makes you feel.

There will be two broken hearts. 

You know he loves you and you love him.

He is convinced that he doesn’t deserve you and pushes you away every time you get close to his soul. 

He knows that you see him clearly; that scares him.

You are tired of fighting for the both of you.

You push the elevator button under the gaze of an unsuspecting policeman who urges, “Where are you going, miss?”

“I'm leaving.”

“Do you need someone to accompany you?” 

“No, thank you.”

“Someone could follow you,” he counters.

“No one knows me, you don't have to worry.”

You wait for the elevator, still hoping to see his ruffled raven hair poking out the door, his voice calling to you, his hand tightening on your wrist. 

None of this happens.

The only ones who will follow you are your ghosts.

Tag list: @baronessvonglitter , @almostempty , @probablyreadinsmut , @thundermartini , @gothcsz , @cas-readsandwrites , @harriedandharassed

Archive tag: @pedrostories

If you want to be added or removed just let me know! Thank you very much for reading❤︎

[aquatic-armageddons]

Team "Whore"tress 2

CW: Not well proofread, foul language, unprotected p in v, double penetration, deepthroating, cunnilingus and tit fucking

---

Today was supposed to be Y/N's day, a day she'd been planning for since she joined the RED team. She'd even been grilling them about it when it was steadily approaching. Days like this were supposed to be happy, cheery and all around memorable.

But who would have thought it'd end in sheer hurt and disappointment?

Y/N just wanted at least one birthday wish, just one tiny gesture that shows her how much she is cared about, but apparently, that was too much to ask for.

The team acted like they never knew and just went about their normal business. And when Y/N tried to speak to them about her special day, she was not even allowed to finish her words, as they grew aggravated with the constant pestering.

"Goddammit, Y/N! Can't you stop getting on my case?! I do not want to hear what you gotta say right now!" Medic exclaimed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Medic, I didn't mean to-"

"You have been getting on everyone's final nerve, Y/N." Spy interjected. "Do you not know the meaning of the word 'humility'?"

"But I just wanted to tell you-"

"Tell us what?" Sniper chided. "That you're sorry for nearly costing us a battle today?"

"But I-"

"Enough! Tiny girl should stop. Go to some other place, now!" Heavy barked loudly, making Y/N quiver and shrink into herself.

"Fine." Y/N growled bitterly to herself, try desperately to choke back the salty tears from her eyes, unsuccessfully.

After she left, tension lingered for the other mercenaries to embrace. Soldier and Demo exchanged worried glances, as well as Engineer and Pyro.

"You guys ever stop to think why she's acting like that?" Scout questioned.

"Why should we?" Medic muttered. "It's not like it's so important that we can't wait."

Scout shook his head in exasperation. "You all are so fuckin' stupid, I swear. Do I gotta spell it out for you?"

Demo cocked his head to the side. "Please do, 'cause I don't get why the poor lass has her panties in a bunch."

It was at this moment when Scout snapped a little. "It's her goddamn birthday, dumbasses! I was the only one who remembered, and you all forgot?! God, you seriously piss me the fuck off!" He shook his head in disappointment.

Everyone's face paled as the weight of their mistake sunk in rapidly. An uncomfortable pang of hurt coursed through their hearts, and they made no attempt to hide the shame on their expressions.

"Scout cannot be serious.. " Heavy whispered.

"This is not April Fool's Day, maggot. Why are you messing with us now?" Soldier blurted.

"Why would I make this up, you guys? Does the poor girl mean nothing to you at all?" He looked at him with a cold stare.

"You're wrong, mate. She means everything to us." Sniper griped.

"Then we gotta fix this. Now."

---

A knock on Y/N's door echoed through the hall of dorms. The only noises audible from the other side was her soft cries and sniffles.

God, this was heart-wrenching to its core.

"Mon chéri, may we come in?" Spy spoke tactfully.

"Go away..."

"C'mon, little lady. We just wanna talk, that's all." Engineer pressed.

The door suddenly swung open to reveal an agitated Y/N. Her eyes were bloodshot from the many tears, and her face was slightly flushed and puffy.

"What's there to talk about?! I've been reminding you bastards for WEEKS, and you just up and forgot! You don't get to come here now like you give a damn!" Y/N's throat clenched up as a new set of tears fell.

"Fraulein, please!" Medic pleaded with her. "We're sorry, sweetie. Is there any way we can make it up to you?"

Y/N thought for only a moment. "You guys really want to prove you're sorry?"

"Da, more than anything!" Heavy exclaimed.

"Alright, then. Prove it."

"But how, lass?" Demo urged.

"Use your imagination..."

The other mercenaries' eyes grew wide with understanding as Y/N slowly removed her blouse. Even though she didn't speak another word, the message was obvious.

"I believe I should go first, short stuff. Since I'm the only one who remembered, right?" Scout whispered in Y/N's ear, sending a chill down her spine.

Scout gently pressed his lips against hers, but soon after initiated a deep, passionate makeout session. His lips then traveled down towards the nape of her neck as he deeply inhaled her scent. Y/N shuddered as she felt Pyro's hands grasp onto her backside, gently kneading and massaging.

Sniper slipped his fingers underneath the waistband of Y/N's bottoms, his fingers gently teasing her clit. They circled the hardened nub with ease, making Y/N more soaked than she was before. He then slowly removed his hand and sucked on his fingertips, not breaking his eye contact with her for a second.

"Fuck, Sheila. You taste bloody gorgeous...but I'd rather eat this straight from the source if you don't mind..."

Sniper laid back down on the bed beside him, beckoning Y/N to give him a better taste of her juices. She happily complied, taking off her bottoms and slowly climbing towards Sniper's head.

"Go on, Y/N." Heavy stated. "Give Sniper a taste of wet, juicy pussy."

She didn't need to be told twice. Slowly lowering her lips above Sniper's, she let out a shaky moan as he swiped his thick tongue across her folds. Sniper growled in satisfaction, wrapping his arms around Y/N's thighs, locking her in place. She tilted her head back as she rode his face, running her fingers through his hair.

After getting a better taste of her, Sniper switched positions and laid her on her back, spreading her thighs while apart. He beckoned Spy over, silently telling him to get a taste of her sweet cunny.

"Go on, mate. It's the best tastin' cunt you'll ever have..." He groaned.

Spy hummed in compliance, lowering his head and attaching his face to hers. Y/N arched her back and moaned shamelessly, jaw stacking and saliva dribbling out of her mouth. Even though she shut her eyes, it didn't stop Spy from savagely devouring her cunt.

She felt the bed's weight dip on both sides of her head. She opened her eyes to see Soldier's hard cock on her left side and Engie's on her right. Taking one in each hand, Y/N began stroking slowly, illiciting a groan from both men.

"Damn, honey..." Engie began. "You sure know how to use those hands, don't you?"

"She sure does, Engie!" Soldier bit his lip as Y/N licked his cock from base to tip, swirling the tip with her tongue. He ran his fingers through her hair as he suddenly thrusted down her throat, making her gag.

"Let's see how these tits fit around my cock, lass..." Demo climbed over Y/N's torso, placing himself in between her breasts. He let a sliver of saliva dribble down onto his cock and thrusted back and forth, earning himself a satisfied moan.

"You're not one to lie, Bushman. She tastes quite wonderful..." Spy agreed, licking her juices from his mouth, like observing the taste of fine wine. "Scout, get one with her, would you? You said you were first, yes? And it is rude to keep people waiting."

"Fine, you rat." Scout hissed. "But I'm taking my time here, unlike you forgetful fucks."

He and Y/N swapped places, and he laid himself on his back. Y/N didn't hesitate to slam herself onto his shaft, causing both of them to moan out in unison. Scout grasped onto Y/N's behind, guiding her on his cock as she bounced up and down.

"Lean onto Scout, Devushka." Heavy insisted. "I will take your behind." Y/N did as instructed, and felt Heavy's massive member tease her backdoor. She began to cry out in slight pain, earning a scowl from Medic.

"Gott, mein friend! You need to prep the poor girl before fucking her there!" Medic scolded.

Heavy rolled his eyes. "Da, da, doctor."

He spit onto his fingers, making them well lubricated before inserting them into Y/N's backside. Y/N cried out again, but with more pain than pleasure. Her moans grew louder as Heavy slid himself inside her, making her holes completely occupied.

"Isn't this a sight to see?" Spy stated with a chuckle. "This is far better than any verbal apology we can give, and you know it, Mon chéri."

A few minutes passed and at least everyone's had a round with Y/N's throat, tits, pussy and behind. But that wasn't the icing on the cake, at least not yet.

Y/N kneeled on the floor as she was surrounded by all nine mercenaries, her mouth open and tongue sticking out, longing for the last of their seed to cover her face.

"Fuck!"

One after the other, they released the last of their essence onto Y/N's face and down her throat. Her hair was a sticky, white mess, as well as the rest of her body. Her pussy and backside were sore, her lips were slightly swollen and her eyes were still bloodshot from the tears of pleasure she wept. She would have passed out then and there, but Medic scooped her up, carrying her to the bathroom a few feet away.

"Fraulein, we truly are sorry for not remembering your special day. Do you forgive us?" He whimpered as he placed her in the tub, turning the dial to hot.

"You guys are so silly. I forgave you the moment you knocked on my door earlier!" Y/N smirked. She let out a deep sigh of relief when settling in the bath, the hot water easing her sore spots.

"Good. Because the last thing we want is to have any more tension in the base." Spy noted.

"But I'm glad you're feeling better, and we promise not to forget your special days anymore. Isn't that right, gentlemen?"

---

A/N: THE LONG WAIT IS FINALLY OVER!!!!

I want to apologize for not releasing this when I said I would. I don't like going back on my word at all, but I wanted to recover from my illness (a little) before completing this. Last night was absolutely horrible for my lungs and stomach (coughing for a straight hour, hacking up phlegm and puking as well 🙃🤢). But I'm feeling a lot better today, and I plan on seeing my doctor this week. In the meantime, please let me know what you think and send me asks for what headcanons/fanfics you wish to see in the future!!!!

[umi-adxhira]

ᝰ.ᐟ SERENITY | 001

FANDOM: TWTPTFLOB

WARNINGS: Kidnapping, simping (real), harsh handling (gripping chin)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: Can't believe I locked in twice in one day. Amazing. Didi is Dion if that wasn't clear lmao. Also novel spoilers

◄ PREVIOUS CHAPTER NEXT CHAPTER ►

Your eyes peel open uncomfortably in an unfamiliar setting. Silky, satin sheets cover your form as the sun kisses, no, burns your face. You turn your face away with your eyes closed, refusing to accept your fate until an unfamiliar voice shocks you.

"Wake up,"

"Five more minutes, mom..." you yawn, covering your face with your arm. Your heart once again hammers in your chest, an uncomfortable yet familiar feeling as you recall yesterday. I don’t know who that person is, but that is not my mother. Seconds go by before the voice speaks again.

"I am not your mother," the voice repeats to you as if it can read your mind. Your eyes open, pulling yourself off the bed, which proved to be a challenge since your arms felt like jelly, wobbling with every movement you took.

Your eyes come face to face with a man. Crimson eyes, like blood. Black hair like the night, with a small tinge of purple in it, makes his hair seem... cute. His arms were behind his back, posture straight like a board and a stare that you kill from miles away. And his face… his face... DIDI???

"Wow…” you let out a breathy laugh, daring to speak to the man who could very well be the barrier between you and the next life. “Who knew I'd see my favourite character in the novel in the flesh? You look young, though... well, younger than when you first appeared in the manhwa. You could be a really good cosplayer. Everything about you’s perfect," you continue to ramble on, confusing the man standing by your bedside. His eyes are locked onto your face. Specifically, the dried tear stains on your cheeks, the ones you don't wipe away. "How old are you?" you suddenly ask, pulling him back into the present.

"..."

"Give me a number, man," the man doesn't say anything more, turning on his heel and starting to leave the room. "How rude,". The door slams shut, leaving you alone in the room. A couple of seconds after his departure, you blink. Once. Twice. Your eyes gloss over the room, taking in the sun creeping in through the curtains, the sheets pooling on your lap, and the sheer size of the room. Then, your mind went back to that handsome stranger. Well, not stranger, but...

Can't believe I saw Didi in the flesh... my handsome villain, ugh. Wait, is he the one who saved me? No, he probably would have just let me die. He doesn’t claim to have the “benevolent heart” the man who saved you has. Also, his voice wasn't the same. “You will pay me back tenfold,” he said. Or something like that. Can’t wait.

There was also someone else on the ground. It sounded like a boy, someone who probably just hit puberty. Jeremy...? I can hear that. It makes sense kinda. If it is him, then this is before the manhwa takes place. Possibly two years, or three?

You plop back onto the bed with a soft thud, arms and legs stretched out in a starfish position. This place isn't real. I have no doubts I'm not dreaming, but... this is all a place someone else made. The worldbuilding CANNOT be this good, there has to be something about this world that I can exploit and live the rest of my days as a rich old lady.

But first, I need to ensure my survival. Two outcomes can potentially occur, and they both depend on one person. Roxana. Well, Jeremy. I don't see a way I can determine which Roxana is in her body. That might take a week, at least, considering I leave this room alive.

No, this all depends on Jeremy. This all depends on how close he is to Roxana. That will probably be the easiest thing to do. If Jeremy isn’t following after her half-sister like a puppy, then this is the worst timeline. If it isn’t then… as long as I don’t kill Cassis… I can do whatever I want, right?

You turn your head to the door, suddenly feeling the urge to escape. If I leave... it makes me seem guilty. Of I crime I didn’t even commit. And Lante will no doubt kill me. If this is actually the novel and I'm not tweaking, leaving this room is a death wish. I may be thrill-seeking, but I'm not stupid.

Turning your body on the bed so your face is suffocated by the pillow, you hope the lack of oxygen will knock you out for a while. This is it. Goodbye Earth.

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆

"...keep her alive. She's very interesting to me," the first thing you hear as soon as you wake up is another unfamiliar voice, alongside footsteps retreating from your bedside. The person the man says this order to does not respond, only staring at the man who walks away rushed, like he has someplace else to be. I get it, Lante must be a busy man, with all the children he’s abusing and refining into weapons, and all those sorcerers he’s exploiting for his own gain.

The recognisable man turns his head towards your bed, only to be slightly surprised you staring up at him, not that would show on his face. "You didn't answer my-"

"Silence," he mutters, but the tone and depth are enough to cut daggers into you. He takes a step forward until he's within arm's reach from you. You sit up from your bed, head resting against the headboard as you pat down a spot next to you, inviting him to sit. He looks down at your hand, then back at you. He refuses your invitation, instead asking a question of his own. "What did you mean by..." he trails off, expecting you to answer his question for him.

Hah. I really dropped the bomb this time. If I tell him now... it doesn't matter which Roxana is the one in this timeline. I have a feeling the butterfly effect will be strong. Might even change the ending of the story as I know it.

But... I'm here now. Might as well live life the way I want to. I’m excited to see how this will turn out.

You chuckle. "Your name is Dion Agriche. When you were a child, your older brother gave you sweets and patted you on the head, only for you to throw the sweets away in a bush. Your mother, Maria, would dress you up in girl clothes to alter and refine for your sister Roxana and her mother Sierra. When you were fifteen, you killed your brother as a direct order from your father, the man that just left this room," I could just tell him everything, but... time to flex my knowledge. I’ll only tell him the parts of his childhood now, I don’t want to spill everything. Patience, [name], patience. Thank God I read the side stories before I read the ending of the book.

"...he was my half-"

"Does that really change anything?" you interrupted him, similar to how he did it to you a few moments ago. OH MY GOD I CAN’T BELIEVE I DID THAT!

"...I suppose not."

You both sit in silence for a while, you fiddle with your hands as he looks down at the ground, probably thinking of what to say next. "Your life... everyone's life here is part of a novel. In my world, I read a story following your younger half-sister Roxana and the Pedelian boy Cassis. I was near the end, I'm not that sure much happened after since the main fight battle thing was almost over but... I can have a pretty good idea what happened,"

The man stands rooted in position, taking his hand from behind his back to char his through his hair, and for a split second, looking like his father. I doubt he would want to hear that if I told him. Once again, just like last time, he turns on his heel, walking towards the door. He twists the door handle before you call out to him.

"Why are you leaving?"

He pauses for a few moments, as if he’s thinking how to proceed. You already know he made up his mind, waiting patiently for him. You watch as his hand leaves the knob. Still, he doesn't face you. "Why are you telling me this?"

"You asked,” you admit, shrugging. “Besides, I know how Roxana and Sylvia have their ending. I simply wish to have mine."

"Are you not worried I will tell anyone?"

"I don't see anyone who would believe you,"

"Roxana would," you paused. "You mentioned the Blue Princess,"

"I did,"

"Why do you not think I will inform her?"

"Because I know you," you admit. "More than you think,"

He faces you, crimson eyes boring into yours. His face twists slightly, almost as if he’s offended. He struts up to you in haste, leaning down to grip your chin and pull you towards his face roughly. "You do not know me. If you did... then you would know not to make me angry,"

You look at him with unwavering determination. "You do not scare me. In fact," your shallow face suddenly perks up, a smile gracing your face. "You're my favourite character in the novel,"

He blinks. "Why?"

His grip on your chin tightens, and you shift uncomfortably. "Roxana was an amazing main character. But, in my opinion, she was blindsided by love. Not her love particularly, but... the love people have towards her. It completely replicated The Abysmal Flower novel when Sylvia was the main character. Roxana simply acted differently to the gazes of the supposed male leads. It was boring to predict everyone’s feelings and opinions of each other," you pause to look into his eyes, "You, however..."

He lets go of your chin in a huff, hastily making his way to the door, and this time, you do not stop him. You rub your chin in agony, letting out a small laugh. Let's hope I didn't royally fuck up… no, it’s fine. What can he possibly do with that information? Kill Roxana? He needs reason for that, one even he cannot make up to give to his father.

[alpaca-clouds]

Emmanuel's Motivation and Believes

I know, I know, we all agree on that we hate Emmanuel definitely now. But given that I adore any narratives filled with Catholic Guilt, I cannot help but also kinda love his story, and go into his thinking. Because I think that is interesting. Plus: It gives me a chance to talk about Catholic doctrine, and some more details about how the French Revolution related to the church.

First let me get one thing straight: I actually do not think that Emmanuel was with the other monks on Malta. I laid out in my analysis on Mizrak when season 1 came out, I am assuming that Mizrak and a good chunk of the monks being with Emmanuel came from Jerusalem, then went to Malta, where the Order of St. John had a long, long hold until Napoleon came around, before going to France - partly in an attempt to help stabilize the political situation there and be warriors for the church.

However, given that we know that Emmanuel was in Machecoul for at least 17 years (because he has to have been there to father Maria) it obviously does not check out for him to have come to France only recently when the political situation in France started to destabilize. Hence, I am assuming, that he is definitely associated with the Order of St. John, but probably has not been in Jerusalem, and only shortly in Malta.

But yes, there is going to be the big influence of the French Revolution.

A quick refresher: The French Revolution came to be, because France was in dept because first a war with England, and then their support of the American Revolution. French society was divided into three estates: Nobility, Clergy, and Peasants. Nobility and Clergy made up about 3% of the population, Peasants the rest. But while Nobility and Clergy had most of the money, they were not taxed. And when they tried to pay the dept through more taxes for the peasants, the peasants said: "We don't think so." And they started to push for more taxes for the nobility and the clergy. And when the Revolution started to get going, they also started to be like: "Actually, you know what? The entire clergy thing is stupid. If you wanna be clergy here, you will do it by the rules of the Republic of France. You have to swear an oath to the Republic, also we will do away with the rules of celibacy and bishops and cardinals will now be elected democratically." And of course, when some of the clergy did not want to swear that oath, some found out what it was to be on the lower end of the guillotine.

As I also spoke about before: In the area where Machecoul is located was the last holdout where people were generally against the revolution, due to the nobility and clergy being very close with the peasants. And of course this would lead to the War in the Vandée, that would end in a massacer - though that is definitely ahead of where we are in the timeline right now.

It is very likely that at least Emmanuel is one of the younger sons of a lower noble house, as the higher ranking clergy were usually from noble bloodlines back then. But given he is "just" an abbot he probably is not from the best pedigree. It might also be that he is a noble bastard - those were often put into positions like abbot and such. Aka: A position with some influence, but not too much.

Chances are, he has been raised on the believe that he is better, because God had decreed it at some point. Which means that he believed that anything the Revolution was doing went directly against the will of God and was in fact blasphemy and heresy of the highest order.

Of course, he probably from the very beginning saw himself as a sinner - given that he himself had broken his vows of chastity when he had had Maria with Tera.

And I think that very much is the core of his motivation. His logic will go something like this:

The people of France were going against Gods will and were basically pushing everyone else to do the same, which did not only depower the church and nobility, but also would end with them all in hell.

He - Emmanuel that is - already is headed for hell, because he not only has broken his vows, but also has done so with a heathen (because Tera is not Christian).

Erzsebeth wants to stop the revolution, and he is very convinced that she is full of shit in regards of having the soul of a goddess inside her - after all he does not believe in any god other than THE God with a capital G.

A "demon" comes along and offers him what to him appears as a surefire way to get rid of Erzsebeth, who to him is a heretic as well, and a demon to boot herself (given she is a vampire).

So yes, from his perspective this makes sense. He selflessly sacrifices his own soul to the demon, works with Erzsebeth to oppose the revolution, before dispatching of Erzsebeth himself with the help of the demon.

Which brings me to the scene with Emmanuel in episode 1 of season 2. When he is made to bring Drolta back. Because this scene is so freaking delicious. In this scene - as Drolta comes back - he starts crying and finally breaks down completely. And while definitely the fact that Erzsebeth did before control the moon, already did something to his religious believes (if she isn't a god, how did she do it?). But then Drolta comes back.

Why does he break down on that?

Well, because this proofs that Drolta has a soul. And together with Erzsebeth's display of powers, this completely dismantled his world view. And this is the moment where I will once more note: Yes, people react to their worldview being dismantled with the same response as they would to a physical threat. Humans are really not good with adjusting their worldview.

So, yeah, the fact that Drolta comes back from the dead proofs to him, that indeed, his religious believes are wrong in at least some way or form. And he does not know what to do.

Mind you, I also cannot help but feel like there is at least a bit Claude Frollo that influenced the writing of Emmanuel. I mean: A priest, who dabbles in alchemy and dark magic, while falling in love with a woman from a travelling culture? Sounds a lot like Frollo. (And with that I mean: Someone please do an AMV to Hellfire. Thanks!)

[christelgothamite]

"That's... Valid" Christel sat next to Mary "I feel that way all the time. That's why when you guys first started I told you what can and cannot happen.. But here's the things about being the right person... Sometimes only you can take that chance" Christel glanced at Mary as they fell into silence... Until.

"Me and passerine had a very big argument about this... Well more like an ongoing argument" Christel glanced at the couch instead of Mary "while I am not on the field as much as him. He is going out continually... If something happens to him... What will I do?" Christel's voice cracked at the end.

"He said that he has to be the one who has to do this because... It's what makes him believe in others to.." Christel glanced at Mary. "What I mean is... If you can, why wouldn't you? Save lives. Make sure others don't go through the pain you went through. Sometimes only you can take that chance."

"Whether you want to do it or not... Is your decision Mary and so is it theirs... You can stop now, but it's their choice too"

Christel entered the room being followed by justice. The gama squad was with passerine and Jim Gordon.

"Alpha squad status. Beta squad be ready!" She called out.

“Alpha squad is ready!” Mary called with her squad behind her.

Celeste came out of a room, pointing behind to it. “We’re ready, and so is the room.”

[melmedardasworld]

Yes, I will be writing their reunion and posting it before Act III drops.

[galvanizedfriend]

After almost three freaking years, I have finally finished writing The Wolf III. 😭

The bad news is now comes the painful part. editing and self-doubting and questioning every choice I’ve ever made. 🥲 But at least it’s finished!

(And then I have 13 more chapters before the story is over, but I’m choosing to focus on the slightly positive part for the time being. 🙏)

[someobscurereference]

Insane over the awakening trio again. We fought a war together, saved each other multiple times, and I know for a fact I can trust you with my life. We have never learned to socialize normally so we can't interact in a normal environment for five seconds without dunking on each other. I would follow you through time and space and abandon everything with you. You are the living reminder of every awful thing that have ever happened to me. Our traumas make us hurt each other at every turn. We're the only ones who know what lead to each other becoming Like That. Our jobs are barely in the same area and we don't even hang out that much outside of necessities. You are all I have left. I cannot fucking understand you. I am the only one in this entire world who has the ability to even try to.

x

[alaskan-wallflower]

sometimes i forget that people on here don’t know i’m visually impaired/legally blind, or that that’s even a thing with people with albinism (i’m actually like…blind. not in the “oh haha i’m like a bat, i can’t see the board!”, it’s the “i’m never going to be able to get a drivers license unless it’s extremely, extremely limited to daytime and two lane highways only, needs an iep, can’t read less than size 24 font without squinting, reads braille because my eyes get tired, can’t see snow/rainfall, can’t see 3d, can barely see my keyboard” kind of way) so when i try to make a blind joke it doesn’t hit as hard as it does if you know me irl. sigh.

[tariah23]

🗿

[tevos]

////

[iridescenttttttt]

Sit down it’s time to talk about how all of the characters in TSAMs are deeply traumatized and flawed and most actions that the characters take that people are frustrated by can be explained if you consider that the trauma plays a huge role in the actions they take in response to stressful situations they’re constantly being put in.

[myfriendtheghost]

goodnight lil guy

[milfbrainrot]

i hate astrology stuff too but i think this show sometimes misses that the belief systems of different planets aren't usually the problem. the governments based on belief systems are.

[serikyl]

Hero’s new goal is finding and killing Scam Likely