#rejoicing priest

[thegoodmorningman]

If Sunday is the One True Day, does that mean Brunch is the One True Meal? Because, honestly, a lot of the time I find brunch food underwhelming. Happy Sunday!!!

[scobbe]

It’s Gaudete Sunday so light your pink/rose candles and rejoice!

Especially the part where John the Baptist goes all, “You brood of vipers!”

[97tears]

I remember agnus dei and start fuming a little bit. and then remember carl shows up so im not that mad anymore but it still sounds like it sucks unfortunately

[angelforcas]

{ TY <3 I agree Miguel is a very fun character to play lol - S.F. }

Miguel looked almost shocked at the comment.

“ Kind?! Ch- Charming?! ”

The Priest said with a bit of an exasperated, breathless chuckle, his body tensing up quite a bit. It wasn’t because he was angry at the comment.. But rather surprised instead.

Miguel was a very reserved, and was always tense or paranoid.. He had a tendency to snap at those who just slightly annoyed him. Even if his snapping was usually accidental, and on instinct. Many described him as “Unpleasant” to be around.

“ No one has ever said that about!— I-

T- Thank? You?.. ”

Miguel replied. A slight flustered and caught off guard blush now on his face.

- 🗡️ [ Father Miguel Romano ]

> What, would you rather me say it was a Horrible comment and I Never want you saying that to me ever again?

> ... I'm joking, of course

> Seriously though, have you never taken a compliment yourself before? Because it doesn't seem like it, no offense

[lifeatthebottomofthesea]

Look, I'm not even watching Smackdown until tomorrow (because I somehow managed to book myself out every Friday in February) and I loved The Rock as much as the next Attitude Era baby, but could he just... not?

Like you are no longer the wrestler I'm looking for.

[beenreidingaboutyou]

When I'm Down on My Knees, You're How I Pray

who? Spencer x afab! reader

content warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+ content, unholy use of bible verses, inaccurate use of religious themes, oral (m), fingering (f), reader has hair that can be pulled, mention of religious trauma, Jesus Reid, please let me know if I've missed anything else!

a/n: Believe it or not, I actually toned down the blasphemy in this fic. Huge thank you to @minswriting for answering my 20 million questions about this because I've never written smut before and that's the majority of what she does. (Also she came up with the title, it's a Lana lyric)

thank you to @cafekitsune for the MDNI divider and @saradika-graphics for the stained glass divider

word count: 1.3k

You’ve spent your adult life avoiding anything related to church and religion. Growing up in an overly religious household and being forced to attend church services twice a week, in addition to the Bible study and choir practice, meant that anything related to religion left a bad taste in your mouth. While you’ve never outright mentioned this to Hotch, he seemed to pick up on it and respected your wishes, never sending you to interview priests or visit cathedrals that had been the scene of a crime. At least, until he had respected your wishes until this case. He paired you with Spencer and sent you both to investigate an older crime scene at a nearby church. Despite your best efforts, you were unable to weasel out of your assignment, so here you were, stuck thinking about the fact that you were going to church with the one person you’d always been attracted to since joining the BAU.

You were oddly quiet as the two of you walked through the building

“So, what are your thoughts?” Spencer asks, breaking the silence.

“Being here brings back all of the religious trauma I endured as a kid and you looking like Jesus is certainly not helping.”

You see Spencer furrow his brows in confusion, his gaze shifting from the church to you, “I-I’m sorry, did you just say I look like Jesus?” 

“Yeah, I did. Except you’d be the one I’d get on my knees for,” you say teasingly, shooting a wink in his direction.

He chokes on air, “e-excuse me?”

“Anyways, let’s go check out the confessional,” you reply, wanting to get out of the church as soon as possible.

As you step into the cramped confessional, you can feel Reid close behind you. You can feel the effect your teasing remark had on him as his bulge presses against your back, though you’re sure the action is unintentional on his part. 

You turn to face him and glance down at the tent his pants, “do you want some help with that?”

His face flushes, “w-what?”

“Shhh, let me take care of you,” you mumble as you get down on your knees in front of him. 

You hear his breath hitch in his throat as you undo his belt. You quickly unbutton and unzip his pants, pulling them down and leaving him in his boxers. You palm his bulge and glance up at him, “Looks like you enjoyed the idea of me worshipping your cock.”

He whimpers and nods. You slowly pull his boxers down, freeing his length. He whimpers as you run your thumb over his tip, collecting the leaking precum. “You like that, baby?” you ask, looking up at him. 

He nods his head pathetically in response. You bite your lip and wrap your hand around his length, giving a few experimental tugs. The sound of his whimpers went straight to your cunt, leaving you desperate to hear more.

“My heart is glad and my tongue rejoices, Psalm 16:9” you recited before you slowly lick the underside of his cock, going from the base to the tip. You can’t help but smirk slightly at the moan that escapes his mouth. You wrap your lips around him, only taking a little more than the tip into your mouth. You look up at him as you swirl your tongue around his length, loving the way he’s reacting to your teasing. His eyes are dark with lust as he looks down at you, enjoying the view, but clearly wanting more. You slowly take more of him into your mouth and you feel him tangle his fingers in your hair as he lets out a loud moan. You keep going until he hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag slightly. Spencer gently caressed your hair, a subtle way of telling you to be careful.

You start to bob your head, going at a teasingly slow pace, savoring the moans and whimpers that he lets out. You hollow out your cheeks around him and he groans in response, bucking his hips slightly. You pick up your pace as he grips your hair, gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail. He groans and uses your hair to guide you, forcing you to go faster. You moan around his length and something in him snaps. He holds your head still and starts bucking his hips, thrusting into your mouth, causing you to gag each time he hits the back of your throat. You look up at him with tears in your eyes, loving the sight of him with his head thrown back and mouth open. He moaned your name so prettily, the sound echoing around the church.

You feel his cock twitch and he starts to pull out, but you grab his hips and hold him in place. He cums with a loud groan, shooting his seed down your throat. You eagerly swallow his load before leaning back, a trail of spit and cum. You wipe your mouth with the back of your hand as you stand up. You can’t resist the urge to wink and say, “Amen” 

He takes your face in his hands and pulls you in for a rough, needy kiss. His tongue slips past your lips and he groans at the taste of himself on your tongue. His hands move down to your thighs and he picks you up, placing you on the prayer ledge without breaking the kiss. 

“From the fruit of their lips people are filled with good things and the work of their hands brings them reward, Proverbs 12:14,” Spencer whispers in your ear as his hands slowly trail under your skirt, his fingers tracing your thighs as they get closer to your core. You moan softly as his fingers brush against your panties and he starts pressing open mouth kisses to the side of your neck. You let your head fall back, giving him more room to kiss and suck on your neck and collarbones. He smirks and gently sucks a mark on your pulse point as he pushes your panties to the side.

“You’re so wet, angel,” Spencer murmured against your skin. “Did you get all worked up using your mouth on me?” 

You whimper quietly as he uses one of his fingers to spread your wetness around. He doesn’t tease you for long, within moments you feel the tip of his finger brushing against your clit. You moan in response, his touch sending sparks all over your body. He begins to gently rub your clit in a circular motion, working you slowly.

You gasp loudly when he slips one of his fingers inside you, his long, slender finger reaching far deeper than yours ever could. He slowly pumps his finger in and out, letting you get used to the sensation before adding a second finger. His pace increases and he curls his fingers, brushing against your g-spot. You moan his name, causing him to pick up speed. 

“Does that feel good, angel?” Spence asked lowly, watching the way you fell apart under his touch.

 “Uh-huh, so good, Spence”

He smirks as you clench around his fingers. His thumb moves to rub your clit as he continues thrusting his fingers. 

“You gonna cum for me?” 

“Yes, yes, ohhh god.” You moan loudly, shaking as you let go, your thighs squeezing around him. 

“I wanna be inside you, angel,” Spencer mumbled, pushing your skirt up. 

You nod and lift your hips to make it easier for him. You can hear a low moan slip from his mouth when he exposes the lacy panties you’re wearing that day. He hooks his fingers in the waistband to pull them down, but gets interrupted by the ringing of his phone.

He reluctantly answers the call, “Reid.” 

You listen quietly as he speaks, trying to get your breathing back to normal. He hangs up the phone and pouts, “Hotch wants us back at the station.”

“I gathered,” you mumble as he steps back, giving you room to stand up and fix your skirt.

“If you want, you can come by my hotel room later? Finish what we started?” He offers as he pulls up his pants.

“I’d like that. I’d like that a lot.”

[isuckatwritingsobenice]

No one mourns the wicked

Synopsis: No one mourns the wicked except it’s Alastor and his loving wife after he dies and the people realize he was in fact the killer terrorizing New Orleans

A/n: i was listening to this song after watching the movie and it kind of reminded me of multiple characters, one of them being Alastor, so here we are :)

Warnings: timeline tweaked to fit the storyline, Major character death, grief, obsession, dark themes, implied past violence, mourning, religious elements

Navigation

The bells tolled for Alastor.

The sound rang out over New Orleans, a slow, deliberate chime that echoed off the cobblestone streets and wrought-iron balconies. A funeral procession wound its way through the city, black-clad mourners moving with somber grace, their eyes cast downward—though not for grief.

There was no grief.

Only fear.

Alastor, beloved radio host, lively entertainer, and charming presence in every parlor and ballroom, was dead. But the man the city had adored was not the man they had buried.

The real Alastor—the one with blood on his hands and a smile on his lips—had been unmasked at last.

And now, no one mourned the wicked man.

No one except her.

She stood apart from the rest, a lone figure swathed in black lace, her veil obscuring the grief-stricken expression beneath.

His wife.

The word felt hollow now, as though spoken from another lifetime. What was she now, if not the wife of the man they cursed? The whispers had already begun—how could she not have known? How could she have laid beside a man with the devil’s grin and never seen the hellfire in his eyes?

But she had known.

She had known from the very beginning.

She had met Alastor on a summer evening when the air was thick with the scent of magnolias and the sound of jazz curled through the streets like smoke. He had been charming, so very charming, his voice warm like the whiskey he poured her, his laughter infectious.

She had loved him immediately.

Perhaps that had been her first sin.

He had taken her hand and led her into a world no other woman dared enter. His world—one of secrets and shadows, where the missing never returned and the wicked were punished not by law, but by him.

It had frightened her.

And yet, she had stayed.

That had been her second sin.

And now, she committed her last: grieving a man the world had condemned.

The funeral was held in St. Louis Cemetery No. 1, beneath a sky choked with heavy clouds, as though even the heavens refused to shine upon the dead man’s final resting place.

The priest spoke in measured tones, his voice a thin veil of piety stretched over the weight of judgment beneath. There were no kind words, no lamentations for a life lost too soon—only the murmured prayers of a man who feared for his own soul in speaking them.

She knelt at the grave as they lowered him down, her hands clenched in the folds of her dress. Her breath hitched, but she would not cry.

Alastor had never liked tears.

That night, the city rejoiced.

The terror was gone, the Monster of New Orleans put to rest at last. Music poured into the streets, the living celebrating while the dead turned in their graves.

She sat alone in their home, the ghost of his laughter still lingering in the walls, in the floorboards that creaked beneath her as she walked. The gramophone sat silent, its usual melody absent.

She could not bear to play it without him.

She could still hear them outside—people whispering his name, cursing it, spitting it into the dirt.

Had none of them loved him? Had none of them seen the brilliance in him, the fire that burned so hot it could only consume?

No.

Only she had seen.

And now, she was alone in her mourning.

The city moved on quickly, as cities often did. Another scandal would come, another name would replace his in the papers. Soon, he would be nothing more than a ghost story, a hushed warning spoken to children who strayed too far after dark.

But she would not forget.

She could not.

Late at night, when the streets fell silent and the candlelight cast long shadows against the walls, she swore she could still feel him.

She would wake to the phantom press of fingers against her wrist, the faintest trace of a breath against her ear. The scent of cigar smoke lingered when she had not lit one. The record player clicked on in the dead of night, playing a tune she had long since stopped hearing.

He was still here.

And oh, how she wished he wasn’t.

Because if he was here—if his soul still roamed these halls—then he had not found peace.

And she could not bear the thought of him suffering, not even in death.

The knocking began three nights after the funeral.

At first, she thought it was the wind, rattling the shutters in its restless wail. But then she heard it again—sharp, deliberate.

Three knocks.

Like a gentleman at a parlor door.

Like a husband returning home.

She hesitated only a moment before crossing the room, hands trembling as she reached for the handle. The air was thick with something unspoken, the kind of quiet that sat heavy in the chest.

She opened the door.

Nothing.

Only the dark, stretching out before her in endless silence.

And yet, as she closed the door, she swore she heard it—

The low, familiar hum of a tune.

A tune only he would sing.

It continued.

The soft shuffle of feet behind her when no one was there. The sudden flicker of candlelight when the air was still. The radio tuning itself to static, then settling on a voice she had not heard in days.

His voice.

“Did you really think I’d leave you all alone, my darling?”

She gasped, the breath stolen from her lungs as cold fingers brushed her cheek.

Not a trick of the mind.

Not a dream.

He was here.

He was with her.

She pressed a hand to her lips, a sob choking its way free. “Alastor?”

His laugh curled around her, warm as the summer nights they had once shared. “Who else would it be, dearest?”

She shuddered. “You—”

“I know.” His voice was teasing, affectionate. “A terrible shame, isn’t it? I had such plans for us. And now look—stuck haunting my own home! How embarrassing.”

She swallowed thickly. “Are you… are you in pain?”

A pause.

Then, softer, “No, my love.”

She exhaled, her body sagging with relief.

If he was still here, still him, then perhaps there was justice yet.

Perhaps the city had not won.

She no longer feared the voices outside, the ones that spat curses at his name.

Let them speak.

Let them call him monster, murderer, devil.

He had been all those things, and more.

And yet, he had loved her.

Was that not proof enough of his humanity?

So she loved him still.

Even in death.

Even in whispers.

Even as she sat alone, her fingers tracing the cool wooden surface of his coffin, her lips parting to hum the song he had so often sung.

The melody drifted through the house, carried by the wind, by the dark, by the presence that lingered just beyond sight.

And somewhere, just behind her ear—

A voice joined in.

Laughing. Loving. Hers.

Always.

[markhellyna]

. ݁₊ ⊹ markhellyna’s fav markhellyna fics ⊹ ₊ ݁.

making this as a way to keep track of & share my fav fics i’ve come across! will continue to update as i read more lol so consider this a work in progress. if you also read & enjoy any of these make sure to leave kudos and a comment on them to show the authors some love!

⤏ Two Minds by PinkThing420

summary: canon divergent au. helena eagan has been undercover as helly r for a few months post-OTC, but decides to let helly live again as long as she doesn’t blow helena’s cover. helena begins to develop confusing feelings towards mark and lumon as a whole.

⤏ 5 Times Helly Asked Mark to Reintegrate (And 1 Time She Didn’t) by five_rat_lore

summary: au where lumon is shut down and all severed ex-employees are offered the reintegration process. a reintegrated helly tries to convince mark to reintegrate too. angsty, sweet, and really hot. bonus points for markhellyna age gap mention and a little bit of professor/student roleplay.

⤏ old haunt by killingcve

summary: mark is experiencing reintegration sickness and hallucinates helly showing up at his house…or does he? dubcon enjoyers rejoice!

⤏ The Summoning by five_rat_lore

summary: markhelly body swap smut

⤏ sweetheart. by pearlofthesea

summary: mark comforts helly immediately after she’s woken up at woe’s hollow.

⤏ brief hold, please by floatingonthelehigh

summary: mark notices a hickey on helly’s neck as she comes into work. she asks him for a new one.

⤏ disparate kinds by BanningL

summary: reintegrated mark & hellyna smut, hellyna is having a bad day so mark comforts her

⤏ besides delaware by audries

summary: mark & helly spend a weekend together on the severed floor directly after the events of the finale. this one made me cry lol

⤏ axis & allies by killingcve

summary: college au. professor mark & TA hellyna, im so obsessed with where this one is going

⤏ say yes to heaven by BanningL

summary: au, professor mark & grad student helena smut ft age difference + helena’s first time

⤏ sick as it sounds by brandnewtrack

summary: au, markhelena as a romcom - i cant get enough of this writing style! they have helena’s characterization down pat. the banter is too good and the smut is 😮‍💨😮‍💨

⤏ deferred compensation by catinhat

summary: post-reintegration markhelena. this one hit me like a truck. really beautiful writing, one of my favorite studies of what reintegrated hellyna would be like. lots of TWs here so check tags before reading.

⤏ Hey There, You On The Table by five_rat_lore

summary: this whole fic series is so hot but i especially love the setting of this one! mark tells helly how to get herself off from the side closet of the conference room she first woke up in.

⤏ blessed are the broken by hellynascout

summary: au where helena keeps going back to church…to see priest mark scout

⤏ a helping hand by eclipsj

summary: helly can’t come so mark helps her out

⤏ Freaky Friday by PinkThing420

summary: PinkThing420 my beloved!! after reghabi floods mark’s chip, he wakes up in the elevator on the severed floor. really hot omarkhelly smut

⤏ tame your tempers, soothe your soul by IAmTheNightman98

summary: the four tempers as the four different markhellyna pairings

⤏ Office Hours by Dogbinary

summary: this is THEEEEEEE markhelena professor/student au for me. dogbinary turn this into a miniseries and you will be reincarnated as a lotus flower this is officially multichap now 🫳🪷

⤏ the hunger that wears her face by hellynascout

summary: post s2 finale. mark got his happy ending. he’s reintegrated and has gemma back, so why can’t stop thinking about hellyna? this one is sooo tasty. mark’s guilt and obsession with hellyna…oof

⤏ Miss Eagan by outsidehelly

summary: reverse age gap au. mark scout is helena eagan’s hot new intern, just imagining young twink adam here… im sweating. dubcon and cheating enjoyers rejoice!!!

⤏ Party 4 u series by cypressdrive

summary: really hot markhelly smut that’s also incredibly sweet and in character. helly wears mark’s tie and he calls her good boy 😵‍💫

⤏ i’m a dog, i’m a mutt by jam (discojams)

summary: DID SOMEBODY SAY OMARKHELLY DUBCON

⤏ on borrowed time by Red_Cardinal_Wins

summary: mark scout finally has his wife and his life back, but every friday he has to return to the severed cabin with helena so that their innies can still see each other. mark got everything he wanted, but seeing helena every week, as well as the messages his innie leaves for him on the camcorder, are making him question whether he still fits within the life he had with gemma.

⤏ secretary by jam (discojams)

summary: intern mark scout is selected to be lumon executive helena eagan’s new assistant, mark is eager to please. there is also some markpetey in here as well ty jamsus

⤏ Beach Episode by PinkThing420

summary: after getting out of the ritzy lumon rehab center in hawaii her father sent her to, helena has a chance meeting with a grieving mark scout, on a solo vacation he was encouraged to take by his sister. despite both of them being at their lowest point, they find safety and understanding with each other. this one has been really sad and sweet and tender and hot, can’t wait to see where it goes. definitely mind the tags here.

[siena-sevenwits]

When I was a kid, I used to tell my little sister so many versions of Rumpelstiltskin off the top of my head as bedtime stories.I just remembered one version I came up with that certainly wasn't incredible by any standard, but which I really enjoyed telling at the time. I don't remember every single detail, but here's the best I can remember with some cobbling to hold it together:

The king's son, much more kindhearted than his father, has always had a hidden talent for turning things into gold. So when he hears that the king has brought a miller's daughter back to the castle to test her ability to spin straw into gold, threatening death if she fails, he jumps in to help. He disguises himself in strange clothes with a low hood, and hunches over, and offers to help the girl spin straw into gold. Turns out that she's very lovely to talk to - they have a wonderful time getting to know each other through the night as they work. But the prince knows he's in disguise and cannot act on his attraction, so he merely asks for her for something to remember the evening by, and she gives her necklace. He helps her the same way the next night, and she gives him a ring, without his even asking for it, and blushes prettily as she does so.

The third day, the king says that if she can spin the straw into gold a third night, she will marry his son. Though the prince has been falling in love with her, he of course protests that his father cannot force her to marry anyone. But he gets shut down. That night when he comes to help her, he plans to tell her his true identity, but this time guards are in the room, as the king suspects some trick. She weeps, for she has no more jewellery to give him - in fact her only hope at this point would be to barter away her first born child like in a fairy tale. He's aghast, and waves it away, saying he'll certainly help her, but she thinks that he understood it to mean she WAS promising her firstborn. But she's afraid to unsay it, fearing he won't help her. He keeps trying to find a moment to confess the truth, but something always happens to prevent it. They finish spinning the straw into gold with hardly a moment for the prince to slip away and change into his own clothes.

In the morning, the king arrives at the door of the room full of straw, with a priest to marry them on one hand, and an executioner with axe in hand on the other. He is delighted to see there is gold after all, even with the guards watching, and calls for the wedding. The girl is willing enough to wed a prince - I mean, he's a prince but there's also something gentle and kind, and almost as if she *knows* him, though she doesn't see how she could.

The wedding is rushed through, and it's not till the bride and groom are left alone that both of them try to burst out with a terrible confession to make. She manages to gasp hers out - that she's happy to marry the prince, and she'll be as faithful and true as he could wish, but there's something terrible she must tell him. She was helped in spinning the gold, by a strange man with a hooded face, and... she may have accidentally bargained their firstborn child for his help.

The prince pauses, and says something like, "But isn't it true that with these magical sorts, knowing their name frees you from their power? If you could guess his real name, perhaps it would solve everything!"

She despairs - with all the names in the world, how could she possibly guess it?

He smiles and encourages her to try to guess.

"But what's the good of guessing now? How am I to know if I guessed it or not until he comes back for what I owe him? And then it will be too late!"

"Are you sure you can't guess his name, my love?"

And he takes out the necklace and the ring.

And joy, and laughter, and all's well that ends well, and even more rejoicing when she gives him their firstborn a year later.

[ellitx]

Chapter 24: The Divine Order

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

previous || next

art belongs to: fridaynightcat

Starting from this chapter, there will be a lot of mentions and content about pregnancy. I know some of you may not be fond of this content, but it’s essential to the plot line. I’m simply saying this as a heads up to everyone. I would say you can skip them if you wish to do so, but you will be missing a lot of context in the future chapters.

word count: 9.4k

          It was hard to believe that it had been three months since the Lord’s Tempest— one which they had unanimously begun to call on the night of the raging Ludi Harpastum— but at least the land of freedom was slowly thriving. Despite the nation being close to havoc, the Church’s announcement that a maiden had been betrothed to the Anemo Archon had thrown everyone into confusion, even if everyone had witnessed their god declare about his beloved.

           Despite the rocky progress of the past three months due to the Abyss Order’s invasion, which had added to the burdens of an already-strained nation, the Knights of Favonius had remained steadfast in their duty to protect Mondstadt.

           It had been fortunate that the Grandmaster and his troops had arrived on time when the Abyss took advantage of the drastic situation. Otherwise, the nation would be plunged into chaos and its people would be left vulnerable to despair. 

           Once the Abyss attacks had lessened and people continued restoring the city, perhaps the Anemo Archon had noticed the Church’s frequent pilgrims to Stormterror’s Lair. They had gone there seeking his guidance and praying for Mondstadt’s recovery; thus, he decided to bless them with his divine grace. After all, it had been his own transgression that led to the city's ruin, but no one dared to say that out loud unless they were a masochistic fool who’d prefer to be punished by the divinity.

           To say everyone had been shocked when the plaza was rebuilt overnight was an understatement. Everyone was speechless to see everything— and by everything, it meant that the entire city was rebuilt. The houses were restored, the irrigation systems were functioning, all the debris and remnants of destruction were gone. It was as if the storm didn’t occur in the very first place.

           People had cried, rejoiced, cheered, and knelt before the very statue of the Lord of the Winds, offering their prayers and gratitude for restoring the city and bringing their lives to its peaceful state. Of course, none could ever forget witnessing the wrath of their own god. But for him to restore Mondstadt and bless them so generously, surely that meant he had forgiven them of their sins... right?

           While many could only speculate whether the Anemo Archon had indeed chosen to forgive them and bestow his divine blessings, the exact details of what had transpired remained known only to the Church. Most, however, did not question it. They simply obeyed, believing it to have come from the Seneschal.

           Since then, the Church of Favonius has been meticulous in spreading the word about the Anemo Archon’s wife to the whole nation, further bringing with it a sense of prosperity and good fortune. Not only were they messengers of his will, but they also claimed to have near-direct contact with the Anemo Archon himself.

           Formerly overseen by the Knights of Favonius, the Church had become autonomous, making this sacred faction outside the Knights’ jurisdiction. They take on the sacred responsibility of providing guidance to those who seek the Anemo Archon’s blessings and his beloved wife’s miracles and fortunes. With scripture entrusted to them by the Lord himself, they awaited only his divine word.

           If no priests or nuns were available, citizens seeking their holy blessings could instead visit the shrine the Church had built at Stormterror’s Lair. This spiked the increase in pilgrimages the Church had been undertaking with growing frequency. Though the name sounded ominous and the area was still used as a nesting place by the dragon it was named after, many believed it also served as the Divine Couple’s abode.

           Over time, the lair had undergone a significant transformation. Cecilia flowers now bloomed in a ray of path, lush greenery had overtaken the once barren grounds, soft vines adorned the stone walls, and the great tower itself was gradually being rebuilt with each visit. 

           Witnessing these changes with their very own eyes only strengthened their belief that it must be the work of none other than Lord Barbatos. However, the attempts to investigate were proved futile as strong wind barriers surrounded the borders, preventing any entries.

           Recognizing its sacred nature, the Knights of Favonius officially renamed Stormterror’s Lair to Sanctuary of Windswept Vow— or simply, the Sanctuary. Each week, the people of Mondstadt frequently visited the shrine, offering their own prayers, wishes, and gifts for Lord Barbatos and his beloved wife to seek favour from the divine couple.

           “So the sudden restoration in Mondstadt means that…”

           Aether nodded when they finally grasped the situation. “Venti— or Barbatos— could be the only one who did it. His reason behind this? I don’t know yet, but it must have something to do with [Name]…”

           Jean stayed quiet, her fingers resting below her chin, deep in thought as she carefully digested the Honorary Knight’s intel. She looked down at the table scattered with envelopes and papers, the gears in her head connecting the pieces of information relating to the Anemo Archon and Mondstadt’s series of events in the past three months.

           “And this [Name] is the Anemo Archon’s wife the Church claims to be?” she reiterated.

           The blonde stayed silent before nodding. His hands turned into fists as he glared at the wooden table. “Yeah. Most of you have probably seen her on the night of Ludi Harpastum. The girl Venti was carrying, that’s [Name].”

           The air was tense while everyone stayed silent, absorbing the information. Diluc crossed his arms, his crimson gaze sharp with suspicion as he leaned slightly against the table. The weight of the discussion was pressing down on them, and the implications of Barbatos’ actions left an unspoken unease in the air.

           “There’s been a sudden rise in activity from the Church, and I’m sure everyone is aware of the ‘miracles’,” he finally spoke, his tone edged with skepticism.

           Right, the miracles. 

           Over the past two weeks, there has been a sudden fluctuation of “blessings” being given. One could almost say the phenomenon was similar to how Mondstadt was restored in one night. Crops were nourished, Diluc’s grapevines in the winery were somehow resistant to pests and grape rot. Farmers reported unprecedented harvests, their fields bearing fruit twice as plentiful as the season before. Even those who had fallen ill mysteriously recovered.

           The sheer number of inexplicable blessings had left even the most skeptical citizens questioning the source of such divine intervention. The Church of Favonius wasted no time in proclaiming these miracles as the work of Barbatos himself, further solidifying their influence over the people.

           Merchants spoke of their wares selling out in record time, their profits soaring without explanation. Hunters returned from the forest with an abundance of meat far beyond what was natural for the season. Even the winds carried a warmth that was neither stifling nor bitter, as if the land itself had been cradled in an embrace of renewal.

           Albedo tapped his fingers thoughtfully on the table, his gaze flickering toward Jean. “It’s all a bit too convenient, don’t you think? Sudden prosperity after months of unrest... it feels more like compensation rather than mere generosity.”

           Kaeya hummed, swirling the wine in his glass as he smirked. “I don’t see any problems here. If anything, I see this as a win,” he said before taking a sip. “It benefits everyone. Everyone is happy, the Anemo Archon is happy, and Mondstadt is as free as the wind.”

           Diluc groaned at his comment. This was exactly why he didn’t want to cooperate with the Knights of Favonius, more so working with the Cavalry Captain. Sharing the bard’s identity with them could bring risk after what had happened, but feigning ignorance would only bring suspicion if brought up. 

           Only Aether, Paimon, Jean, Diluc, and Albedo knew of Venti’s identity as the Anemo Archon since the Stormterror had gone into a rampage. But after the events of Ludi Harpastum, it had become difficult for anyone not to recognize Venti. How could anyone not recognize the bard’s youthful face when he’s all over the town’s tavern, only to discover he’s an Archon in disguise?

           Just as Diluc was about to retort to Kaeya, a loud knock interrupted their discussion. Everyone turned their heads to the door and Diluc sighed. 

           “Come in.”

           A brunette girl dressed in Mondstadt’s traditional dress stepped inside. Her purple eyes drifted to Diluc’s guests and she bowed her head politely.

           “Mister Tunner has already gathered today’s harvest. However, some vineyards were infested by pests… We’re working on double-checking the grapes’ quality before processing them, just to be sure nothing compromised the batch. Mister Tunner also suggested postponing fermentation until we’ve completed the inspection.”

           She paused, hands clasped in front of her and her eyes briefly flicking to Diluc for approval before adding, “We’ll keep you updated if anything else comes up, Master Diluc.”

           Diluc sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. This was the third time he received a report that the vineyards were plagued by pests. But with the recent miracles, he couldn’t bring himself to complain. The profits at Dawn Winery had soared, thanks to what many considered a blessing from the Anemo Archon. Sadly, not every harvest could be safe from phylloxeras.

           “Alright. Thank you,” Diluc said with a calm nod, his voice low and composed despite the troubling news. “How’s your mother doing, Aurel?”

           The girl’s eyes widened at the mention of her parent. “Oh, she’s steadily recovering. She’s still a bit weak, but the medicine’s been helping thanks to your generosity, Master Diluc.” Aurel replied steadily, her gaze momentarily shifting to the floor before returning to the red-haired man. “I’m not particularly devout, but… lately, I’ve started to believe that maybe my prayers have reached the Anemo Archon after all.”

           Diluc gave a thoughtful hum. “I’ve heard from Adelinde that you’ve been making frequent visits to the shrine as of late.”

           Aurel nodded, folding her hands in front of her. “Yes, sir. I suppose it’s become something of a routine. The miracles, however… seem to be thinning out…”

           Kaeya raised a brow, his ever-present smirk curling his lips. “Thinning out? Now that’s an interesting choice of words. Care to elaborate, Aurel?”

           The girl shifted awkwardly, her brows knitting together as she tried to maintain her calm composure when his sharp eyes were locked onto her. “Well… I only heard from someone that the blessings aren’t as frequent as they were in the past two weeks. The Church hasn’t made any notice yet if there are new divine words from the Anemo Archon, so most are not yet aware of this occurrence…”

           Aether crossed his arms, his expression darkening as he processed her words. He turned and looked at the window, seeing many people making their way to the gates with baskets, flowers, and wines in their hands. He wondered how you were doing inside. If he hadn’t seen you for three months, did that mean you had accepted your fate? It felt… off.

           “Thank you, Aurel. You can take your leave.” Diluc said.

           Aurel nodded and quickly exited the room. Once the door closed behind her, silence filled the air for a brief moment.

           Kaeya broke it with a low chuckle, swirling his wine again. “Depleted miracles, huh? Sounds like our dear Archon might have overextended himself.”

           Jean frowned at Kaeya’s remark, folding her hands neatly on her lap. “This isn’t something to joke about. If the miracles are thinning out, it means something is shifting, and not necessarily for the better.”

           Albedo leaned forward, fingertips steepled as he glanced toward Aether. “You mentioned earlier that she didn’t know Venti’s true nature until you told her. Can you tell us more about that moment? What exactly happened that night?”

           Aether sighed, subconsciously reaching to his neck where he could still feel his assailant’s ghostly hands wrapped around his throat. “He was furious. I could feel it… he intended to kill me that evening. But…” His eyes cast downwards to the papers and books laid on the table, written anecdotes and history related to the Anemo Archon. “He looked desperate to make [Name] stay with him despite all the truths he hid from her… I really don’t know what their relationship is, but all I can say is, [Name] felt betrayed that he kept so many things from her…”

           Paimon, unusually quiet until now, floated a bit lower. “We could never miss that look in her eyes… It was like she shattered into pieces when we told her everything about Venti’s true identity…”

           The fire crackled in the hearth, casting flickering shadows along the polished floors of Dawn Winery’s main room. Albedo’s voice remained calm, but there was a trace of curiosity. “And the miracles… do you believe they’re tied to her?”

           Aether paused briefly before nodding slowly. “I do. Maybe not directly. But she’s at the center of it. Ever since the Lord’s Tempest, Mondstadt’s been strange. One day, Mondstadt was being attacked by the Abyss, and the next, there was a sudden restoration. And now the rise in miracles? People call them a blessing, but is it really a blessing if it's forced by a divinity?”

           “It’s been ongoing for weeks and everyone is flocking to visit the Sanctuary. Do you think she’s the reason the blessings are dissipating?” Diluc remarked.

           The Cavalry Captain chuckled lowly and their heads turned to him. “If it really did come from the Lady of the Winds, who are we to complain when all they’ve done is merely show their love to us? To shower us with their divine grace?” Kaeya added.

           Diluc’s jaw tightened, his gloved fingers tapping against the wooden table. “That’s exactly what concerns me. A deity’s power is not limitless. If it is truly her, how much of herself is she sacrificing to bestow these so-called miracles? And for what purpose?”

           Aether’s frown deepened as his gaze lingered on the window, watching the crowd grow larger as the sun dipped below the horizon. The flicker of lanterns carried by the people illuminated the path to the shrine, creating a river of golden light. 

           “It doesn’t feel right,” he finally said, his voice quiet yet firm. “Even if it’s her, this isn’t the freedom Mondstadt stands for. It feels more like... devotion born of obligation rather than choice.”

           Kaeya raised a brow, swirling the wine in his glass before glancing sidelong at the traveler. “Strange, hearing those words from you. You've crossed countless nations and seen stranger customs, yet this is what unsettles you?”

           It didn’t help that you were being venerated in a way that trapped you rather than honored you. And he feared you were being consumed by the role Venti had imposed. Aether wanted you to have the freedom to choose, not to be turned into a goddess out of grief or divine politics.

           Kaeya paused, his tone light but no longer mocking. “Though... I suppose it’s different when it’s someone you care about. You've been clawing at the windwalls for months now, haven’t you?”

           Aether’s jaw tensed. “You make it sound like I haven’t tried.”

           “I’m not saying that,” Kaeya said, his voice quieter now. “But when a god decides to love, it's rarely fair. You know that better than anyone.”

           The silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the subtle crackling of the fire. Diluc shot Kaeya a glance, less sharp now and more contemplative. “You're saying the Archon’s emotions are fueling this... surge of miracles?”

           Kaeya shrugged, lifting his glass. “Or hers. Maybe both. Love has strange ways of manifesting when gods are involved. Only the Church of Favonius knows the true source of these miracles.”

           Paimon grumbled as she placed her fists on her small waist. “It’s always the Church of Favonius! Are the Knights no longer involved in this stuff? You know, divine revelations, blessings, whatever this whole thing is?”

           Jean folded her hands neatly atop the table, coughing her throat. “We are still involved, Paimon. But ever since the restructuring two months ago, the Church has gained more autonomy in handling all divine affairs related to the Anemo Archon. The Knights… we no longer have oversight over the rituals, miracles, or the Anemo Archon’s revelations. Only the clergy know how things are actually operating.”

           Paimon blinked. “Restructuring?”

           Jean gave a slow nod. “After the Lord’s Tempest, the Church declared a shift in divine authority. They claimed it was Lord Barbatos’s will that his revelations should be handled solely by his chosen clergy, not a military force. The people were desperate for hope after the chaos. They accepted it.”

           “And now no one questions it,” Diluc muttered, eyes narrowing. “How convenient.”

           Albedo leaned forward, the firelight catching the edge of his sharp gaze. “If the Church truly acts on Lord Barbatos’s will, then we must also entertain the possibility that any deviation, such as the waning of miracles, could be interpreted as punishment. Or… exhaustion.”

           “Exhaustion?” Kaeya repeated with a scoff. “From a god?”

           “Not a god,” Albedo corrected calmly. “A vessel. If the miracles are channeled through the Lady of the Winds, then she may not be infinite in her capacity. And if the Church is aware of this... it makes their silence all the more troubling.”

           Albedo took a round pendant from his coat pocket, a familiar glass orb encased in a gold casing with an intricate insignia carved into its surface. Inside the orb was a faded symbol of three short interlaced arcs.

           Aether’s eyes widened and beside him, he heard Paimon gasp. “Isn’t that [Name]’s pendant? How did you get it?”

           Albedo glanced at them calmly. “This is just a replica I crafted. I wanted to study its origins after you asked me to repair the original. The design… it felt too deliberate to be ornamental. And I was right.” 

           Albedo placed the pendant gently on the table, the firelight catching the curves of its ornate design. Everyone leaned forward to observe and inspect the said item.

           “According to my research, this emblem traces back to a noble crest once associated with the ancient royal lineage of Old Mondstadt, prior to the rebellion against Decarabian.”

           Paimon floated closer, eyes wide. “That’s what Dr. Edith said to us too! She mentioned the same symbol in her notes about Old Mondstadt relics. There were even old folktales saying Decarabian had a daughter, but she suddenly vanished without a trace…”

           Jean’s brow furrowed. “A daughter of Decarabian…? That’s not something I’ve ever seen documented in our official archives.”

           “Most records from that era were either destroyed or buried under layers of rewritten history,” Albedo said, almost absently as he rotated the pendant with a gloved finger. “But scattered folklore and fragmented texts suggest there is indeed a young girl close to the tyrant’s side. Possibly hidden from the public for her protection... or perhaps to preserve a legacy Decarabian feared would be erased.”

           He paused, his expression more serious now. “When I examined the original pendant, I found faint traces of elemental resonance. More curiously, embedded deep within the casing was a lingering essence of a divine being. We believe it to be the residual will of Decarabian himself.”

           Kaeya raised an eyebrow, setting aside his wine. “And you’re saying [Name] could be… a descendant?”

           “No,” Albedo corrected, eyes flicking up to meet his. “Not a descendant. There are signs that the pendant belonged to her. The original owner. That [Name] is the girl who disappeared.”

           A heavy silence fell.

           “But… that’s impossible,” Jean said, her voice faltering for the first time. “Decarabian’s fall was over two thousand years ago.”

           “Which makes the miracles, the pendant, and her confinement all the more concerning,” Albedo replied. “We may not be dealing with just the favored of Barbatos... but with a relic of a former god’s bloodline itself.”

           Aether sat back slowly, the pieces beginning to fall into place. It all made sense… 

           The pendant. The elemental residue. The old blood of Decarabian.

           The confusion in your eyes when Paimon mentioned the existence of Vision.

           The sorrow Venti wore like a second skin when your name was spoken.

           It wasn’t just a loss. It was longing.

           No one knew the daughter’s existence because she had been asleep somewhere hidden. Somewhere away from the danger. And where else was sealed off but none other than Stormterror’s Lair? An area blocked by storming winds until Venti arrived to save Dvalin.

           The lair had once been Old Mondstadt. Decarabian’s tower was in Stormterror’s Lair. The daughter had never been seen again after vanishing into the tower.

           [Name] is the daughter of Decarabian. The very same girl kept hidden away during the rebellion, now awakened after an era lost to time. For you to live this long meant you possessed Decarabian’s blood, didn't it? 

           You were the only person Venti had left in his life prior to his status as an Archon. He had told Aether about his past. His story of how he met his dear bard friend and a young maiden during his time as a small wisp in the rebellion. Venti told him he had been waiting for this maiden for centuries to wake up.

           Was that why Venti was so attached to you? 

           It all pointed to a god trying desperately not to lose you.

           But at what cost?

           Aether’s gaze lifted back to the pendant. Your freedom was taken by the God of Freedom…

           The irony struck like a blade. Of all Archons, Barbatos was the one who championed liberty, who let his people walk paths of their choosing. Yet when it came to you, he had bound you tighter than any chain. A prison wrapped in worship, in silence, in sanctuary walls masked as safety.

           And Aether understood now. It wasn’t malice. It was fear. 

           Venti had already lost a nation, lost friends, lost his innocence in a war against a god. You were the last fragment of that world. The only living proof of a time he couldn’t forget.

           Aether’s hands curled into fists. He looked to Jean, Kaeya, and Albedo, their faces lit dimly by the firelight, each caught in the same unease.

           The miracles.

           The rising fervor.

           The unreachable Sanctuary…

           Everything pointed to the Anemo Archon’s wife.

           “We’ll wait for the Church’s response to the declining miracles,” Aether said, breaking the silence in the room. “We’re not yet entirely sure if [Name] really is the source of these miracles, but we can assume she has a part in it. I know the Church can't remain silent forever.”

           Kaeya sighed and leaned back on his chair, one leg crossed over the other as his eyes flicked to the empty glass, reflecting his face. “If this is truly the work of the Anemo Archon’s wife, then perhaps the answers lie with her. Though, good luck getting past the wind barriers around the Sanctuary.”

           Aether’s amber eyes shifted to the image of Barbatos illustrated in a book, his eyes filled with determination. “I’ll find a way in. I need to see her. I need to know if she’s... if she’s okay with all of this.”

           “Hmm… So you plan to confront Lord Barbatos himself, knowing full well he wants you as far from his wife as possible?” Kaeya leaned in slightly, his tone light, but deliberate. “Or is this the part where the gallant Traveler tries to rescue a maiden from the arms of a god?”

           A moment of silence passed.

           Diluc’s jaw tightened. “Kaeya,” he warned under his breath, his voice low and disapproving.

           But Kaeya only raised a hand in mock surrender, settling back with a quiet chuckle. “Relax, Master Diluc. I’m merely curious. If anyone can challenge a god on something so personal, I suppose it would be our dear Traveler.” His gaze slid back to Aether. “Just try not to upset the Anemo Archon too much. We wouldn’t want Mondstadt to turn into ruins, would we?”

           Jean coughed, catching everyone’s attention. “I’m sure all this information may be overwhelming for some of you, so please take the time to rest. I’ll be reporting to Grand Master Varka on Mondstadt’s current situation.”

           “Don’t overwork yourself, Jean! Be sure to take a break as well,” Paimon quickly reminded her. 

           The Dandelion Knight softly smiled and gave a polite nod. “I’ll go on ahead. If anyone needs me, you know where to find me.”

           Everyone nodded except for Diluc who remained quiet and unmoving, his expression unreadable as he watched the exchange in silence.

           Before leaving, Albedo stepped beside Aether and handed him the replica pendant. “Take this,” he said calmly. “It may not hold power like the original, but... it might prove useful if you intend to investigate around the Sanctuary.”

           Aether accepted it with a quiet nod, his fingers curling around the smooth, cool surface of the glass. “Thank you.”

           One by one, they all left the room, their footsteps echoing faintly against the wooden floors of Diluc’s manor. Only Aether and Diluc were left in the living room for a moment longer, his gaze still locked on the pendant resting in his palm. 

           His thoughts churned like the winds outside, questions trailing behind every answer they had found. Just as Aether and Paimon turned to leave, the low voice of the master of Dawn Winery cut through the quiet.

           “Before the two of you leave,” Diluc said evenly, arms crossed, “is there a particular reason why the meeting was held in my home? Wouldn’t it be more convenient if it were held in the Knights of Favonius Headquarters?”

           Paimon blinked, clearly caught off guard. “H-Huh? That’s a good point, now that you mention it...”

           Aether paused at the doorway, then looked over his shoulder. A faint, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

           “Because it’s harder to eavesdrop here,” he said. “And unlike the church... or the Knights... I trust you to be honest when things go wrong.”

           Diluc’s eyes narrowed slightly at the answer. Not in disapproval, but in silent understanding.

           With nothing more to say, Aether turned back toward the path outside, tucking the pendant safely in his pocket.

—

             Two days. You have been giving Venti the cold shoulder for two days.

           The night of the argument still had a bit of tension. Venti was hushing you, hugging you, and apologizing over and over until your tears had stopped. He never fought back when you were weakly punching his chest. He never pulled away when you called him selfish. He just held you tighter, afraid you’d leave him who kept him whole for all these years.

           You were his last thread. And if rejection was crawling on his back, he’d be damned what atrocious things he’d do to his own nation.

           He hadn’t left your side that night. When your tears had died down and you fell asleep in his arms, he didn’t dare let the coldness seep over your skin and brought you to your shared bed carefully. Venti kissed your dried tears, but he, too, was silently sobbing as he held you close to him, hugging you as tightly as he could without disturbing your slumber.

           He stayed like that until the first light of dawn painted the Sanctuary in pale gold. He pressed his cheek against your hair and whispered half-finished lullabies and broken apologies into the silence while his hands rested over your abdomen, drawing slow circles on your chiton dress. 

           His breath trembled with every word, and yet he didn’t stop. Not even when your expression, peaceful in sleep, reminded him of everything he feared losing.

           He didn’t know when he had fallen asleep at that time.

           But the days that followed were quieter.

           You kept your distance, speaking only when necessary. Meals were eaten in silence. You’d sit by the open archways, watching the clouds pass, while he lingered by the bridge behind you. Close, but never quite close enough.

           As much as he wanted to approach you, take your hands between his and beg for your forgiveness, he sensed you needed your own personal space. He was desperate, yes, but he didn’t want to intrude, no matter how much it hurt him the longer you remained in silence.

           Now, in the Sanctuary’s south garden, Venti sat alone on the edge of the fountain. His arms draped limply around his knees as the soft wind around him stirred, mimicking his unrest.

           Venti was contemplating what to do to ask for your forgiveness. He knew he was a fool in love with you, but he couldn't bear to see you cry. His first thought drifted to something he had long prepared, something he had been waiting for the perfect moment to arrive. 

           To propose. To proclaim his love. 

           But it didn't feel right. 

           It felt too soon. Too desperate.

           You wouldn’t accept his proposal so easily if the relationship was on the brink of shattering. Not when he was the one who had shattered your fragile heart by lying to you.

           He clenched his fist as Barbatos sat idly next to him, blank and empty like a doll. The world blurred through shimmering dots. Colors seemed to bleed together, outlines of objects blurring into hazy, indistinct shapes. 

           The world itself was weeping along with him. Or perhaps it was just the salt stinging his eyes, blurring his vision. He blinked, trying to focus, but the world remained distorted.

           A teardrop fell on the back of his hand, then another like dew of raindrops. Venti sniffed and rubbed his eyes hastily with his arm. 

            Archons, Venti was so pathetically in love with you. 

           He wanted to grip his hair, slap himself, and punch himself for being so stupid.

           Stupid. Stupid. Stupid!

           If he had just told you that you had been in a coma, this wouldn’t have happened. If he had just stopped lying, hiding everything from you, you wouldn’t be crying. If he had stopped that damn doctor and his pet snake earlier, their peaceful and perfect life would have continued. 

           It was all Zhongli’s fault. He already told him to bring his adepti, and yet he brought a mortal. A fucking mortal. Into his own abode. To check up on you.

           If Morax had brought an adeptus with medical knowledge, they wouldn’t have sputtered nonsense in front of you. If Morax had simply listened to him, he wouldn’t have resorted to using his powers to erase their memories. But alas, when a situation turned dire, he would go back to using his archon abilities. 

           Take advantage of it.

           But Venti had already done significant damage. He didn’t want to make matters worse. He didn’t want to widen this already heartbreaking relationship. He wanted to return to you. And in order to earn your forgiveness, he needed to amend his faults. 

           Venti cleared his face of tear stains as he stood up from his seat at the base of the fountain. 

           The air was too heavy around him. His chest ached, his lungs refused to expand, and his breaths refused to reach his brain. And his heart—

           It hurt.

           His heart thumped irregularly against his chest. Pain and stress flowed through his body like venom, making his bones burn in agony and his muscles twitch violently.

           He gripped his hair, pulling it as he bit his lip harshly until blood drew out.

           Come back, come back, come back, come back!

           It wasn’t Venti’s fault! 

           Morax was the one who got the mortals involved!

           But if Morax hadn't brought Dr. Baizhu, he never would have known you were carrying his child. You would have struggled fighting your sickness, so weak and so fragile. You could have died if Dr. Baizhu hadn’t given you a diagnosis. 

           You and his baby windblume could have died.

           That thought alone made him fall to his knees in defeat. What would he do? How could he patch up this relationship without any more tears to shed?

           Dust puffed out from the ground. Venti heaved, his chest heavy and tight. Everything inside him felt taut, drawn tight as if his soul was clenching against his flesh, wanting to get out. His arms and shoulders tensed, muscles jerking and straining against his skin.

           “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. Come back to me, please… I’m so sorry, love.” He kept whispering apologies under his own breath as if it could reach you through the melancholic hymns of the winds. 

           Venti wanted to kick himself. He had already sent Morax away, calling him stupid and irresponsible. It was an insult, but it was the truth, and Venti doesn’t deny his feelings anymore.

           Morax should have listened to his warnings!

           What would he do? What had he done before to patch up the relationship?

           Venti felt something metallic graze against his thigh.

           He blinked, eyes still stinging, and reached down with trembling fingers. His fake vision had slipped from beneath his robes. It was cool to the touch, its glassy surface glinting faintly under the soft sunlight.

           Then something clicked in his head.

           In a hurry, he snapped his fingers and strong gusts of wind gathered around him. 

           Why hadn't he thought of this earlier?

           Teal feathers fluttered gently and a bright light surrounded his hands until he could clearly see an orb take shape.

           As his thumb brushed across it, the orb pulsed. Hastily, he searched through the series of sequences that played. Images of a dark-haired boy with a brown cloak and a [hair color] dressed in a navy blue cloak played, smiling at each other as the boy held her close, cupping her cheek with fondness.

           There must be something here he could find. Something he did back then… something his friend had said or given to make you smile again.

           Venti’s fingers curled tightly around your memory orb, cradling it as faint teal light danced against his trembling hands. The winds around him stilled and the first image flickered to life.

           The same dark-haired boy returned, twirling clumsily beneath the twinkling night sky. Across from him was the [hair color] girl giggling, the flowers lighting up with each step they took together through a field of luminescent flowers. The young man reached for her hand, pulling her into a playful spin as soft glimmers of the fireflies’ lights danced around their feet.

           He plucked a flower and gently tucked it behind her ear. The maiden smiled shyly, her cheeks softly tinted with pink as her soft gaze cast downward before the bard nudged her chin up with a tender insistence. The wind stirred around them lightly, wrapping their silhouettes in swirls of dandelion seeds and fireflies. 

           He looked at her as if she were the only melody he wanted to preserve in the dissonant world. His voice was unheard in the orb, yet his lips moved with affection, saying something Venti already knew by heart. 

           Then, the maiden laughed. A small, beautiful sound that made her throw her head back slightly, glowing as if the moon itself leaned down to kiss her cheek.

           And all the while, the bard simply held her, his forehead pressed against hers, his hand never leaving her face, not even when the memory began to blur.

           Venti stared.

           He hadn’t remembered this scene in such detail before. Or perhaps, he never allowed himself to look too closely. It wasn’t him in that memory. Not exactly.

           But the longing was the same. The yearning. The way his dear friend had looked at you was the way Venti felt whenever he glanced at you now.

           Venti sniffed and wiped his tears away with the back of his hand as the memory continued to play. His fingers trembled as he lowered his hand, the orb disappearing as the last traces of feathers dissolved into the wind. He looked back at the tower, wondering where you might be, wondering if you missed him just as he had missed you.

           Sighing, he pushed back his hair and closed his eyes, taking deep breaths to relax and calm the storm in his mind. He needed to be quick. He needed to prepare everything fast. But this would take time, and he couldn’t do this alone…

           His energy was quickly draining and he didn’t know how much longer he could hold. 

           The quicker he could resolve this, the sooner he could recover. 

           When he moved to stand upright, his knees buckled slightly, and he exhaled sharply through his nose. Across the garden, the wisp perched at the fountain’s edge flickered, then dissolved into scattered teal motes, its borrowed energy returning to its master.

           With whatever strength and energy Venti could muster, he snapped his fingers. A parchment unfurled midair, and the tip of the quill hovered shakily above its surface before he began to write in silence. The strokes weren’t as graceful as they used to be, but the message bled through clearly.

           The Church would never fail him; that truth alone was enough for him to start his preparations. The parchment rolled and vanished into the breeze toward the cathedral spires. They would handle the rest. They always had.

           The Anemo Archon only needed to see his wife’s smile return. 

—

          “This or that?”

           “That.”

           A gust of wind brushed over Paimon and Aether who were strolling along the cobbled path. The small fairy crossed her arms over her chest and huffed.

           “Hmm… Paimon didn’t expect you to be so frugal.”

           “I’d rather spend my mora on weapons than on multiple dishes you’ll barely finish.”

           “Ah! Rude!”

           Aether’s lips quirked up faintly, though his eyes scanned the square ahead. The plaza was quieter than usual. Even though they had continued with their daily lives since the restoration, the townsfolk seemed more reserved today. Perhaps they had finally noticed the decrease in the miracles.

           Three days had passed and the Church still remained silent. 

           “Mondstadt is so quiet today… should we go to the Knights of Favonius and check in with Jean?”

           Before the blonde traveler could reply, his ears caught on the hushed conversation between merchants and passersby.

           “The crops haven’t bloomed the way they used to…”

           “Do you think the Anemo Archon is angry at us…?” The woman whispered.

           “I don’t know... But I heard the Church of Favonius will be holding a proclamation today. We should visit the cathedral and pray once more… maybe Lord Barbatos will hear our prayers…”

           So they weren’t being kept in the dark after all. If the Church remained silent, the people would drown in their fears and uneasiness, and who knows what would happen to this nation.

           Lost in his own train of thought, Aether paid no mind to Paimon’s calls, and he certainly didn’t notice a brunette girl approaching him.

           “Traveler?”

           A voice called. He blinked and turned to see a familiar face. It was one of Diluc’s winery staff he saw a few days ago. What was her name again? Aura? Ariel?

           He scrunched his brows, trying his hardest to remember. 

           “Oh, hey! You’re the girl we saw a few days ago at Diluc’s manor, right?” Paimon hovered closer, eyes narrowing in thought. “Um… Laura? No— Arla! That was it!”

           The girl smiled faintly. “Close enough. But it’s Aurel.”

           Aether gave her a nod of recognition. “You work for the winery, don’t you?”

           Aurel politely nodded and showed him a basket of bread she was holding. “I just finished my work. I’m on my way to the cathedral.”

            Aether glanced in the same direction, noting the distant cathedral spire rising over the rooftops of Mondstadt. “We’re headed there too,” he said. “We heard something might be happening.”

           “Oh? So you’ve heard the Church has a proclamation today? The sisters invited everyone to join the gathering this morning.”

           Paimon hummed unsurely, “Well, not the actual event itself. Mondstadt has been so quiet today, and we want to investigate what’s going on.” 

           Aurel smiled a bit, but her eyes reflected a more grim light. “People are talking about the miracles, and there’s no doubt it will reach the Church’s ears.”

           A gust of silence fell between them briefly as they crossed the square. “Do you come to the Church often?” Aether asked.

           She nodded. “Twice a week if I can manage. My mother has been sick for a long time… I come to pray at the Sanctuary’s shrine for her healing and offer gifts and flowers for the Divine Couple. A bottle of cider when I can afford it.”

           Paimon tilted her head. “Offer?”

           Aurel smiled wistfully. “Well, I’m not the only one. There’s been a surge of visitors to the shrine lately. Especially in the last three months.”

           They turned a corner, and the cathedral came into view, its stained glass glowing with filtered sunlight.

           Aurel’s gaze softened as she continued, “Every time I passed by, I’d hear the sisters rejoicing over the betrothal of Lady of the Wind to Lord Barbatos. My little sister would often come back home and tell me the stories from the Church. One time, she said that the Anemo Archon is showering blessings upon Mondstadt because his heart is filled with love.”

           She paused to glance at Aether. “Some say the more he is satisfied, the more miracles appear. I always thought it was a strange way to word it. But… the past two weeks have been full of blessings…”

           She clutched the basket of bread a little tighter. “That’s why so many come to the shrine now. To offer thanks. To offer prayers. It’s as if… they want to keep them happy.”

           Aether looked ahead again, his lips tight with thought. 

           Miracles occur because the Divine Couple is happy… 

           He remembered their discussion back at Diluc’s manor and their speculations. Were these miracles really coming from you and Venti? It was only a possibility that you may be the root of it, but if these blessings were declining, does that mean something happened at the Sanctuary?

           Aurel noticed his troubled visage and chuckled. 

           “Take my words with a grain of salt, Traveler. These are merely gossip from us and not the official message from the Church. You know how quickly word spreads and how people twist tales for their own pleasure.” 

           The traveler’s lips parted slightly, brushing his finger over his cheek sheepishly.

           Right. Now that the Church had finally made a call, Aether hoped he could get some more clues.

           “What about you?” Aurel asked, turning her head to his direction. 

           “Me?” Aether pointed to himself with a raised brow.

           “I’ve seen you near the shrine a few times... I wanted to say something before, but Master Jean was usually with you. I didn’t want to interrupt.”

           Aether blinked owlishly. “Oh… I didn’t realize.”

           “It’s fine. Whenever I visit the shrine and stumble upon you, you look like…” Aurel’s purple optics flicked to his as her voice lowered. “…you were trying to find a way to get in.”

           Aether’s eyes widened, and he quickly turned to her with a gaping mouth. His heart raced and sweat rolled down his neck. Before Aurel could throw another question, a new sound carried over the breeze.

           Murmurs. Dozens of them.

           As they reached the outer steps of the cathedral, a small crowd had already gathered. Mondstadters were murmuring amongst themselves, brows furrowed and voices hushed.

           “Has the Anemo Archon abandoned us?”

           “He was happy, wasn’t he…? Why did the miracles stop?”

           “We need answers! Where’s the Church and why aren’t they telling us anything?!”

           Paimon floated a little higher, peering over the heads of the crowd. “Woah, there are so many people today… even more than usual.”

           Aether scanned the faces. Some were anxious. Others confused. But all of them looked toward the cathedral with anticipation and worry in their eyes.

           “Everyone! Please calm down and wait patiently! The Herald of Lord Barbatos will arrive soon.”

           Aether saw Jean at the sidelines, calming the crowd. The rest of the Knights were also with her, keeping an eye on things. They seemed worried. Jean, in particular, didn’t smile or wave. Her mouth was a thin line as her sky-blue eyes bore holes into the ground, fists clenched at her sides.

           Aether glanced up at the towering cathedral doors. They hadn’t opened yet. But the pressure in the air was palpable.

           Then, faintly, the sound of bells began to toll from the belfry. Not the jubilant peals of celebration, but a slower, solemn rhythm.

           People turned toward the doors, the murmurs fading into silence as a young man stepped into view. He wore a pristine white cap with two black points accented with gold lining. With the same pure color and accent, his robes caught glints of sunlight with each step. Soft rose-pink hair framed his face, and a serene yet enigmatic expression rested on his delicate features. In his hands, he held a scroll tied with a mint green ribbon.

           Paimon clung to Aether’s shoulder with a nervous frown. “I have a bad feeling about this…”

           Aurel’s eyes narrowed. Her ears filtered out the anxious rustling of the crowd, her attention locked on the pink-haired figure as he unfurled the parchment.

           “People of Mondstadt and children of the wind, I ask you now to listen with open hearts for I bring news long awaited,” he began and the murmurs diminished to silence as all their attention was set on him.

           “Many among you have asked why the winds have been quiet, why the rains have come late, why the harvests have felt thinner, and the air colder. It is not judgment. It is not abandonment. Our Archon, Lord Barbatos, has not turned away. He has simply turned inward, choosing for a time to watch over his beloved.”

           Aether’s brows furrowed slightly. He leaned down toward Aurel and whispered low, “Who is that?”

           Aurel barely turned, her eyes still fixed on the speaker. “That’s Deacon Dahlia,” she murmured. “He’s the Church of Favonius’s high deacon. He’s also the voice and messenger of the Anemo Archon.”

           Aether returned his gaze to the deacon with renewed attention.

           Dahlia’s voice rang once more through the plaza. He didn’t raise his tone, but somehow, it still reached every ear and every heart.

           Aether’s thoughts whirred, and he asked again, albeit in an urgent tone, “Does he have close contact with the Anemo Archon?”

           Aurel raised her brow and glanced at him through her peripheral vision. “More or less. He’s the messenger, so of course he has Lord Barbatos’s favor.”

           He returned his attention to the deacon and narrowed his golden eyes, trying to grasp something from this assembly. 

           As if sensing the traveler’s gaze, Dahlia’s eyes briefly flicked toward Aether. For a second, his expression shifted. Not hostility. Not recognition. A flicker of skepticism at an unknown outlander.

           Then Dahlia’s gaze swept back over the crowd. His gentle smile returned, and he opened his arms wide as both priests behind him pressed their palms together in prayer.

           “The Lady of the Winds, beloved of our Anemo Archon, is expecting a child!” he announced.

           The whole plaza gasped, some awed in disbelief. Murmurs rippled across the gathered crowd as birds flew off from the cathedral spires when the bell rang loudly once again. Some women were clutching their hands to their mouths as their eyes welled up with tears. A few elders whispered prayers under their breath, while several younger attendees turned to one another in curiosity and confusion.

           "Now, as the truth is made known, let us rejoice!" Dahlia declared as his voice rose high. “For though the winds paused, they shall rise again. And when they do, they will carry not only blessing, but a new breath, a new voice, a new song born of wind and grace.”

           A hand shot up from the crowd. Dahlia turned to them with a patient smile.

           “Yes, my dear?”

           “You said the Lord has not abandoned us… He will still continue showering us with his blessings, right?”

           Dahlia gave a reassuring nod.

           “Indeed. But from this point on, we must understand that these blessings are now intimately tied to the Divine Couple’s well-being. When the Lord is joyful, his winds flow freely. When his Lady smiles, the land flourishes. And when both hearts are light, Mondstadt knows prosperity.”

           He paused, letting that settle before adding gently, “But should sorrow touch them, the winds may falter.”

           Another hush and the crowd grew solemn.

           The two priests then stepped forward in perfect synchronicity. “When the Lady smiles, the Archon’s joy will return. And the winds shall once again sing across Mondstadt,” they said in unison. 

           Dahlia rolled the scroll and looked down at the crowd. “Know this, the Lord still watches over us. He has not turned away,” he continued with a firm voice. “But if you wish for blessings to return in full, then give back your love. Visit the shrine. Offer your prayers. Let the Divine Couple know their people walk with them, even in times of quiet.”

           Dahlia bowed his head one last time and turned his heels. The two priests followed behind, guiding him back toward the tall cathedral doors.

           Aether’s breath hitched as his eyes followed their shrinking figures amongst the sea of the crowd. 

           Dahlia is the Anemo Archon’s messenger. He knows what’s going on inside the Sanctuary.

           Those were the only thoughts running through the traveler's mind right now. An objective. A mission to accomplish he gave to himself. All to free you from the place where Venti’s people worshipped you. 

           He knew Venti had become too paranoid and overprotective, to the point where you mustn't stray far from his side. The god was overflowing with feelings— perhaps overflowing with happiness because of these miracles and blessings— at the knowledge you were bearing his child.

           And because of the declination, it must be related to how you reacted to it. That was his best guess. 

           Without thinking, his body pushed forward through the thick crowd. 

           He couldn't let this chance slip away. Dahlia must also know about you and your whereabouts.

           “Wait!” Aether shouted, weaving through cloaks and shoulders. 

           “Aether!” Paimon called out behind him, flitting after his trail. “Hey! Where are you going?!”

           Aurel, still standing idly at the plaza as she digested the Church’s words, saw the traveler cut through the gathering in haste. People shouted and glared at the blonde man. Her eyes widened upon the realization of what Aether was doing. She glanced back at the murmuring crowd, then down at her basket, second-guessing her choices. 

           Finally, with a deep, reluctant sigh, she shook her head and ran in the direction from which Aether came. He may be the Honorary Knight and Mondstadt’s hero, but she needs to catch Aether before he does anything reckless.

           By the time the blonde traveler reached the threshold of the cathedral, the heavy doors had not yet shut. He stepped inside with his heart pounding loudly in his ears. With a loud voice, his voice echoed across the high marble arches.

           “Wait!”

           Dahlia and the two priests halted in the middle of the candle-lit nave, the lingering scent of incense curling in the air. They turned slowly, the two priests unsurprised except for the pink-haired deacon, as if they were expecting this.

           The traveler's boots echoed on the polished marble as he stepped forward, panting slightly from the chase.

           “You’re… you’re the herald of the Anemo Archon...” Aether said between breaths. “You can reach him, right?”

           Dahlia regarded him with a calm but bewildered gaze, his lashes half-lowered in thought. “Indeed, I am,” he answered softly. “Though I am just a mere messenger entrusted with passing his words to his children.”

           Aurel and Paimon had finally caught up to him, the pair standing near the cathedral doors as they caught their breaths. Paimon was the first to trail after him, quickly hovering near Aether with a nervous look on her face. Aurel flinched upon seeing the two knights guarding the door. They may have seen them but chose to say nothing. She slowly stepped forward and listened from a distance, as if one single echo from her shoes would mean a disturbance in this sacred palace.

           “Can… can we request an audience with him and his wife?” Aether’s voice wavered with desperation as he stepped closer. 

           The silence that followed was palpable. Dahlia stiffened and his expression faltered into something unreadable. His purple eyes widened with unease before flicking toward the two priests beside him. The clerics exchanged sharp, knowing glances, their eyes narrowing in warning as they turned their attention back to the traveler.

           “I… I’m afraid not,” Dahlia finally said. His voice was low as though the very question had summoned a chill in the air. “Lord Barbatos prefers to keep their solace undisturbed… It is a sacred time for them both.”

           “Then what about a message?” Aether took another step forward as his voice raised slightly. “We don’t even need to step foot near the tower! Just let him know what’s happening. Please, just ask him to give [Name] her freedom!”

           Dahlia’s mouth remained slightly ajar, but no words came. The priests looked increasingly tense. One of them placed a hand subtly on the edge of his robes.

           “She doesn’t deserve this,” Aether continued, voice rising with each breath. “You all call her the Lady of the Winds, but she’s locked away in that tower like some secret no one’s allowed to speak of! She was deceived, and now she’s trapped. And none of you are doing anything about it!”

           A heavy silence fell along the quiet hall. Aurel sensed the increasing tension between Aether and church members and quickly marched to his side, disregarding the pair of eyes fixed on her at the noise her heels made on the tiled floors.

           Dahlia’s features hardened, though the guilt in his gaze was unmistakable. He turned slightly toward the cathedral guards standing near the entrance with his jaw tight.

           “She deserves better,” Aether cried, stepping forward again. “Barbatos is keeping her there against her will, isn’t he?!”

           Aurel grabbed his shoulder. “Traveler, that’s enough—“

           But Aether pulled his arm free with a harsh shrug, shaking off her grip without looking her way. “She’s being deceived!” he yelled. “She has a right to choose her fate! Why won’t any of you do something?!”

           The cathedral guards were already in motion, their heavy boots echoing against the marble floor. Steel-clad hands closed around Aether’s arms, yanking them behind his back. He struggled, muscles tensing with resistance. 

           “Wait— just listen!” Aether shouted, backing away a step, but it was too late. He struggled instinctively, but the weight of the guards' grip was unyielding. “You can’t just ignore this!”

           Aurel stepped back in alarm, her hand hovering midair as though unsure whether to intervene or withdraw. But one of the knights misread her proximity and, in the commotion, grabbed her by the wrist as well. The basket of bread fell on the floor with a thud and rolled away as she cried out in pain.

           “W-Wait—!” she gasped, caught off guard. “I didn’t—I'm not involved!”

           “She’s with him!” One of the priests barked. “Take the fairy as well.”

           Paimon whirled around with wide eyes as another guard rushed in and seized her. “What?! No! You have to be joking, right?!" 

           “Stop! At least let Aurel go!” Aether shouted, his struggling renewed with twice the force. “She had nothing to do with this!”

           But the knights remained resolute. With an iron-tight grip, they dragged the three out. Paimon struggled desperately between the guard's hold, kicking and shouting. “H-hey, stop this! Aren’t you both from the Knights of Favonius?! Don’t you know he’s the Honorary Knight?!”

           “[Name]’s not safe with him!” Aether’s voice echoed against the stone pillars of the hall. “Barbatos is not who you think he is!”

           Dahlia said nothing more, his mouth pressed in a tight line as the situation quickly grew out of control. His eyes followed Aether’s retreating form, emotions clashing and swirling in their depths.

           “She has a right,” Aether shouted one last time, his voice ragged and hoarse. “Please… just let her go!”

           The grand doors of the cathedral slammed shut behind him, leaving only the fading echoes of his cries to disturb the silence.

           Dahlia flinched visibly, his eyes scrunching tight and his teeth clenched as he looked away. The taller cleric stepped beside him, laying a firm hand on his shoulder.

           “Do not forget your place, Deacon,” the man said coldly. “You speak for the Anemo Archon, not against him.”

mhmm I love me church politics. next chapter would be the longest of all the chapters. all I can say is you sinners would be having a whole feast ahead in the future lol

[portraitsofsaints]

Saint Margaret Clitherow

1556 - 1586

Feast Day: March 25

Patronage: businesswomen, converts, martyrs, Catholic Women's League

St. Margaret Clitherow, wife, mother and martyr, was a fearless protector of her faith. She harbored priests in her home during raids in protestant England, and for this, she was condemned to be crushed to death. “The sheriffs have said that I am going to die this coming Friday, and I feel the weakness of my flesh which is troubled at this news, but my spirit rejoices greatly.” She died on Good Friday, March 25th, 1586. Margaret’s last words were “Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, have mercy on me!”

Prints, plaques & holy cards available for purchase. (website)

[prickly-paprikash]

The Bishop in the first Castlevania season is pure evil who believes himself good. He's nearly every crime and hypocrisy of the Catholic Church distilled into one neat, wrinkly, putrid man. He is easy to hate. He is supposed to be despised and we are expected to cheer and rejoice when Blue Fangs chewed on half this man's face.

He uses god to control and manipulate the powers and people that be. While his belief in god may be true, the church and the faith are more tools for him to retain control. It is glaringly obvious that this man is power-hungry.

There is nothing, and I mean nothing at all redeemable about that asshole.

The Abbott is every conservative relative who genuinely loves you, but is a blind idiot holding on to institutions simply because they are "right".

While the Bishop's character is real, most of us won't encounter him. We see him on the news. I'm not even American (been there once for two weeks) but even I've seen his like on news and media. He's a televangelist who consolidates wealth, clout and power through the fanaticism of his followers. He is drunk on the authority he possesses. His belief in god isn't the point; whether or not he holds faith, the man cares solely about power.

The Abbott is someone in our lives we know well. Your conservative mother who refuses to even show a modicum of tolerance towards queer people. Your father who is buying into the religious side of Youtube and Tiktok. Your brother who has grown up to carry terrifying, fascistic beliefs. Your sister who feels lost and found some semblance of acceptance in a church who still believes women are lesser. Your aunt who despises vaccines. Your uncle who tells you that you should've become a priest or a soldier.

The Abbott, deep down, has some redeeming features. But it's not enough to forgive him for his idiocy.

Ask any child who had to grow up with a religious parent, especially a Catholic or an Evangelical. They fucking love the story of Abraham sacrificing his child to God, and finding a ram in its place.

Evangelicals are bent on this tale. They will always preach that god comes before children. That children and their suffering and their needs must always take a backseat to the word of god.

A trans child asking their parents to understand—their words will fall on deaf ears because god and the holy man told them that 'transgenderism' is a vile philosophy that seeks to groom and twist kids. A college freshman debating with their parents about free healthcare and immigration will be stonewalled because the charismatic preacher said that god will provide. god will heal. god did not invite these foreigners into this land.

It is Maria, begging her father to listen and having her pleas fall on deaf ears.

The Abbott is someone I hate more than the Bishop.

Men like the Bishop exist, but they are few and far in-between.

But the Abbott? The Abbott is someone I share a table with at dinner. He's someone I see during family reunions. He's someone who shares misinformation online, and I see it on my timeline because we're social media friends.

I fucking hate him so much and I hope he gets what's his.

He never deserved Tera. He never once deserved Maria.

[knightyoomyoui]

[SMUT] TWICE Sana x Male Reader - "You Can Watch, But Do Not Touch... Unless I Consent You So"

WARNING: contains smut, R+18 content TAGS: honeymoon, rough sex, edging, titfuck, blowjob, doggystyle, full nelson, mirror sex, fluff, smut, newlywed, footjob WORD COUNT: 5200+

The hallway was full of laughter from you and Sana as both made their way into the hotel room you checked into, where you'll be staying for 2 days.

It was necessary so that you and her could get prepared easily for your wedding today, and it concluded smoothly as the priest eventually proclaimed the two of you to be husband and wife.

As newlyweds, you and she left the church instantly to head into your private place where you can rejoice together with your wife, just like usual couples do once they walk out with their wedding rings now attached to their fingers.

Carrying Sana in your arms, her hands were firmly locked around your neck as she looks at your side-profile with excitement equal to her own as you and her made your way inside the room as you opened the door.

You brought down Sana on her feet, engaging you again for another passionate kiss before she lets go and displays a bright smile that you always loved seeing from her.

"We did it, Sana." you said to her, wrapping your arms around her waist. "We fulfilled our promise to each other."

"It was all worth it, YN... and it even feels like I've won anything in my life now that I also got to achieve this one remaining thing I've been dreaming ever since I learned what is love all about... and that is to be married with a man that would treat me with care and looks at me like I am his whole world, and I'm really glad that it has to be you, YN." Sana gracefully said, pressing her palm on your cheeks as she giggled at your funny yet adorable appearance in her silly act.

"I love you, YN. I can't wait to see how the future holds upon us, now that it's up to us together to do whatever we want to have."

"I know, and I love you too, Sana. And we won't stop until the time considers it over."

You planted another quick peck at her lips before you walked your way into the bed and sat side by side with her. Staring at her beautiful dark orbs in the center of her pearly eyes, you had the notion of asking her, which piqued your curiosity.

"So... uhm, what shall we do now?"

"Isn't this the part where the two lovely couples get to full embrace their love now that their hearts are officially bound into one... without no limits?" Sana answered.

Her fingers slid upwards into your neckties and gently tugs it before she removes it on her own. Your smile shudders, encapsulating a hint of tense.

"Sana, a-are we really gonna do it?"

"Hmm... I guess so." She shrugs, tightlipped.

"Are you sure about this?" You asked her with concern. "I mean... are you ready to do this with me?"

Sana grabs your hand and softly looks at it as she caressed your skin with her slender fingers. "Ofcourse, I am. For you, I'm willing to try anything as long as it gives us joy and pleasure for good. How about you, will you join me in this?"

"There's no way I would say no that makes you happy and comfortable with me, Sana." You shook your head.

"Good. Then let's start. 

I've been waiting for this moment to come anyway."

For a second kiss, Sana took the initiative to pull your head towards her and move her tongue and lips. Your well-built body beneath your suit caught her hands' attention as they went wild in tandem with her sensuality.

With a mixture of astonishment and amazement that you are actually doing this with Sana, you made the decision to follow her lead and expressed your affection and fanciness to the fullest extent possible. But much to your surprise, just as you were about to touch her waist, she swatted it away. You discover Sana is looking at you with utmost seriousness at that point.

"Uhm... I-I'm sorry. D-Did I made y-"

"No, no. Don't take it that way." Sana calms you already, noticing already that you misintepreted her words. "I just... thought of something interesting to add."

"H-huh? What is it?"

"Do you remember how you've went through before you got to made me admit that you made fall in love for you too?"

"Oh... that? Yeah. You were hard to get. You were not an easy person. It took me a while to make you say it before I get to call you mine."

"Exactly. There, you got it." Sana acknowledged. "I'm not an easy person."

"I think... maybe I should consider trying it also on you whenever we're in our own space."

You were so invested in waiting for her slow words that's coming out of her lustful mouth that you didn't even realized she already pushed you to lay down in the bed.

"S-Sana... what are you doing?"

"Sshhh." She covered your lips with her index finger, her flirty way to signal you to stop talking. "You'll be fine. You'll be fine. I assure you, this will be fun~"

"Stay there, okay?" You just nodded. Sana went for her bag and opened it, taking out 2 handcuffs that made your eyes largened.

"W-where did you get that, babe?"

"Some helpful friends." She winked, wiggling the cuffs in her hand. "I suppose you what I'm going to do with this then."

You gulped. That's it, you had learned that between you two in bed, she prefers to be the one who gets to do what she wants to do. She has the power. The control.

In making out, she has to be the dominant one.

You have seen how intimidating and fierce Sana could be when she gets disappointed or mad, and you don't want to test her in your special day with her.

All you have to do... is follow and succumb.

"Now fix yourself for me, raise your both arms above your head."

You hesitantly complied, unaware of what Sana is planning tonight on you. You wouldn't be lying that despite of the strange and anticipation, you're liking also to witness her seductress side goes fully unleashed only for you to experience.

Because if you said that your wife Sana isn't attractive and seductive, who would you be kidding? You don't want to sound foolish when you say that." Cuffing your wrists on the headboard, she patted it before looking down on you. "I'll be right back, okay? I have something to show you."

She touched your cheek with a smirk before she left you and entered the bathroom, leaving you with your tremendous intriguing and the potential outcomes of how all of this would go with Sana in the next few minutes or hours.

She came back to you after a few minutes of doing some stuff you didn't know. It was not that long, but you can tell that she took time for it.

Because you couldn't comprehend what you were seeing in front of you.

Sana is dressed entirely in black lingerie, with the exception of the white bridal veil on her head, which she chose to keep on to give her appearance a touch more elegance, holiness, and seductive air. "You like?" She posed, tilting her waist while her both hands are placed on each side, combined with her breathtaking back arching almost perfectly to hypnotize you.

It's working, but you couldn't sure if you're accurate because you just can't describe exactly in words what's crossing all into your mind as your lovely wife does this to you, setting you up to not only own each other's hearts... but your bodies also.

"No answer for me? That's harsh. You're leaving me in the air. Maybe we won't start th-"

"N-no don't! I-like... I mean... I love it so much, Sana." You shook your head rapidly. You are astonishing to visualize."

"See? It wasn't that hard." She giggled, teasing you.

"Listen to me, pretty boy. You're gonna be under my orders for tonight, you hear me?"

You nodded with amazement at this side of Sana you've never seen before. Surely, you can thank all the Gods above for blessing you with such a perfect woman to serve and satisfy with all love.

"You're just gonna lay there, and you can only watch me but you can't touch me... unless I consent you so. Got it, baby?"

"Y-Yes Sana."

She slapped your thigh, eliciting a stingy ache in your skin. "I'll allow that... but there's one more thing you have to remember... call me mommy when I instruct you like this."

Not only you have to take a not mentally of that, but also the fact that you have discovered Sana's preferred kink when it comes on having sex. Totally you wouldn't attempt disobey her next time, considering that she's being a 'strict' woman that owns the entirety of you.

"I'm going to repeat myself again, but this will be the last. Are we clear, baby?"

"Y-yes, mommy."

"Very good. Now just lay there, relax... and enjoy the show." The volume of her voice is slowly decreasing towards the end, the more she bends as she crawls atop of you.

You watched her remove your suit, unbuttoning your polo and spreading it with your vest until your muscular chest and torso were exposed for her to be in awe.

She kissed each of your pecs and circled her fingertips on your nipples, sending shockwaves of tickles and arousal through your body.

Her crouching precisely on your now bulging pants isn't helping at all. She looks up at you and smirks devilishly; it seems like she felt your boner as you blushed heavily.

"Aww is my baby liking this already? Being played by her mommy so well?"

"U-uhmmm yes m-mommy."

"Then we're gonna have a lot of fun together. I'll make it entertaining so that my baby would be so much happy."

Sana slid her hands downwards, her touch waves at those six packed abs of yours that gives an impressive feature of your midriff. She licks each of the gaps, the softness and slimey texture of her drooling tongue makes you tickle and aroused more.

"A-ahh...."

Kissing the top of your belly button, her hands landed on the waistband of your pants and your boxers, based from hpw her fingers went deep as it clutched.

"I've been noticing that your friend down here is suffering too much, let mommy help you out~"

She tugged it downwards, leaving it half removed as she left it just on top of your knees

She viewed at your now exposed cock on its hard state, pointing towards at her before it twitched when you saw her lick her lips. "Do you know how many times mommy would imagine how big can you be?"

"Ahh shit..."

"Sometimes, I could notice the outline of it whenever we sat beside each other. I would then try my best to pretend I accidentally bump your crotch so that I get a feeling of it... and God, I almost felt dizzy thinking about the size of it wrecking my pussy."

She finally removed both your pants and boxers in your legs, making you fully naked compared to her.

"F-fuck, mommy y-your words..."

"It's all true, baby. Can you believe it? Mommy tried her best to be patient for you, so can you do it for me today too?"

"Yes mommy."

"Alright. Mommy's not gonna hold back anymore, okay? I've waited for so long."

She caressed your thighs and gently extended it for her to occupy more space to feast on the enormous meat served in front of her.

Her hands climbs up until you felt your testicles gets hanged and squeezed tenderly using both of her hand within the gaps of her thumb and index finger.

You blew more air, chest panting faster , fists clenching on the cuffs as you try to compose yourself. "Your balls looks so full. Can't wait for me to drain you until every last drop, baby."

Her right hand ascended, now grasping the base of your cock. She formed a fist around it as she gently began to stroke you dangerously slow.

"O-oh... oh my god."

"Stay still for me, baby. I need you not to let me down on this."

"I'll try my best f-for... mommy."

"It's so fucking big and thick~" Sana said as she bit her lips while staring at your cock being pumped. "I've finally got a hold of it... now it's time to find out how it tastes."

She directed your shaft to her opening mouth before she suckled your mushroom head and slowly slid down into your length, introducing you to a newfound pleasure that will leave you speechless at all.

"U-ughhh s-shittt..... grrrghh...." You moaned as you feel Sana's blowjob to slowly sped up as the pace of her head bobbing up and down increasing.

All of your toes and fingers are now curled, trying with might that you can still hold on much longer.

You accidentally flinched upwards as you felt Sana's tongue twirling around your tip, giving her a quick deepthroat. She looked up at you, shocked at what you did.

"I-I'm sorry..."

She didn't respond. She just stared at you, but to your surprise, you could feel her sucking go deeper as your head was now bumping the walls of her throat, accepting the challenge she thought you put up for her.

Your moans and groans even became louder. The familiar feeling of your abdomen tightening has made you alert; you squirmed a bit so you can fix yourself again while Sana continues to blow you.

"O-oh no... p-please, mommy I'm cumming."

Right in time, she felt your cock twitch in her mouth. She let it slip in her puckered lips, leaving your length all messed with saliva and pre-cum.

"No. You won't cum unless mommy told you so. Understood?"

You nodded, sighing a bit of relief that she stopped sucking you so that your end could be prevented.

Only for it to vanish instantly when you saw what she's doing after.

She removed her black laced bra, revealing her tasty looking breasts as it jiggled from the release. Suddenly, your thirst and craving has intensified.

She positioned back in your crotch, and you watch her present to you what she has in mind next.

Awakening back your cock into its full hardness, she gave it an introductory stroke before placing it on the valley of her supple mounds.

"We're just getting started, baby."

A sly smirk formed in her lips as she starts to lift and then drop her breasts as it suffocates your cock with its embrace. Sana is now giving you a wonderful titjob, her soft pillows is automatically sending you straight into euphoria.

"How does it feel?"

"It feels so freaking incredible, goodness gracious."

"Do you like how my tits graze all over your huge cock, baby?

"Fuck yes, mommy. It feels so comfortable, so good, oh God!"

"Would you love me to put these in your face and help you taste them?"

"Yes, I would really love it, please do it mommy."

"Then be patient and be a good boy for me if you want a reward."

You only nodded. Sana continues to glide her succulent breasts in your reddened aching cock, now being edged for 10 minutes.

More saliva and pre-cum scattered around her skin before she felt the familiar twitch again, leaving your cock on absent again. You whined as your cum almost escaped just when Sana lets go of your cock.

"M-mommy are we not done y-yet?"

"We're almost close, baby. Hang on for me, would you?"

"O-okay..."

She grabbed another chair from the dining area and placed it near the foot of the bed. Stacking your thighs with her legs all covered with black long stockings, she crossed it and posed sexily again on you.

"What about my legs, baby? Do you love my new stockings that I bought exclusively only for you?"

"They're simply look fitting in your legs, mommy."

"Good. And my feet?" She asked you as she rubbed your thighs with it.

"It feels relaxing. It's like I'm having a massage."

"Then you're gonna love this one. I'm going to try one more on you baby. Is that alright?"

"Just do me. I want my mommy to be happy."

She was touched at your thoughtful words. Her feet met at your cock, putting it in between before she pushed it to lay on your stomach and she ran the sole of her feet through the underside of your cock.

"Agh... f-fuck...." You muttered from Sana's excellent footjob.

Your wrists are now hurting a little bit for wiggling with desperation to escape as Sana continues to perform these pleasuring experiments on your throbbing poor cock.

The mushroom head of your penis has gotten slightly purple now from the several times it tried to contain your cum for releasing.

She picked up your cock and stroked it with both of her feet this time. The texture of the fabric of her stockings adds more satisfying sensation to her tantalizing actions.

The stockings got a puddle of wetness filled with a mix of saliva and pre-cum but Sana doesn't care. She puts down again your cock on your abdomen and massaged the underside with her left side while the other began playing on your now disturbed heavy balls.

You couldn't help it. You finally bended your knees from compressing it too much on the mattress to lessen the tightness that you feel. "O-oh my God... m-mommy I think I can't take much longer..." you whined.

"Does my baby want to cum so bad?"

"Please, let me mommy."

"Since you've been good and obedient...

Go on. Cum for me."

She took her legs off the bed and faced your cock again as she hurriedly sucked it. You joined her intensity and buckled your hips back and forth as you were fucking Sana's mouth ruthlessly, a bit of a payback for the torture she's been subjecting you to.

Abruptly, your vision turns to white, as does the entire mouth of Sana, as it was flooded by thick waves of your warm and salty cum, filling her up before she let go of your cock and swallowed your load.

"Mmmhhh... yummy, she said as she sipped on her cum-stained fingers and the slit of your cock to clean and ensure no drop would go to waste. "Good boy, so much cum dripping down on mommy's tummy."

You panted heavily as you were exhausted at the length of time you fought your urges. Sana reaches for the key but before that, she teased you once more again as she did a sultry short dance beside you while removing her black panties and wedding veil, her puffy pink pussy all visible to you.

The now naked Sana grabbed on your wrists. "Are you fine, baby? Was I too much?"

"N-not at all. It's my first time so it's all weird to me, but I'm not lying when I say that was one of the best things I've ever had."

"Great. And now for your reward..." She inserted the key on the hole and switched it. "You are now done watching me, I'll leave everything the rest up to you.

You can touch me now, baby."

As she unlocked the cuff on your other wrist, you quickly hooked your arm around her waist and pushed her towards you. Her breasts connected immediately in your face as you smothered them all over their softness before you started to devour her succulent caramel nipples and areolas while helping her sit down in your lap by elevating her legs on each side.

She grinds on your softening cock while you gnawed on her tits as she mashes her cleavage on your face. "Oohhh hehe aggressive aren't w-ooh mmh~" She moaned as she felt your strong hands kneading both of her soft asscheeks.

"Fuck, you've been testing me for quite long, mommy. You made me to be like this, and I'm not gonna be sorry for it."

"Then show me. Be harsh on your slutty mommy. Fuck her hard for edging her baby's cock and not letting him cum easily."

You might've released the most animalistic grunt ever as you lifted her body and stood your cock to point it through her pussy before you pushed her down, and you didn't go easy on her like she's been begging you to do so; you just quickly fucked her on a rampage.

She went crazy bouncing on your lap, screaming and moaning in shudder as her voice vibrated, echoing with the sounds of loud claps of her ass contacting your crotch.

You kissed her furiously, pushing her head at you by gripping her neck. Her breasts squished on your chest as you locked her figure with your other arm. Now that we are lying down together, the direction of your hammering in her abused pussy has gone upwards.

"FUCKKK ME!!! OH GOD DON'T STOP, DON'T YOU DARE STOP BABY, I'M GONNA CUM ON YOUR MONSTROUS COCK UGH!!!"

"SO AS I. TAKE IT ALL, MY SLUTTY MOMMY!!!"

You went for a strong three strokes before you buried your cock deep into her womb, splashing it with your second streak of baby batter.

Both of you exhaled together to rest for a little before you kissed again, and Sana pushed you away so that she could take most of the entire bedspace.

You realized that she did it so that she could position herself on all fours; she arched her heavenly back to purse her ass further to showcase it to her.

"Take me from behind next, baby~" Sana said. "Do you like my ass wanting for you?"

"Ofcourse I am. Look at how perfect it is." You slapped each of it as she giggled and purred. "Harder. Spank me harder!" You repeated, giving each juicy peaches a balance rough treatment.

"Do all you want, it's yours to devour baby. Mommy needs to be used." She wiggled her ass for you, her cheeks hypnotizingly rippled as you kneaded it before you buried your face on it giving a long lick on her pussy and her asshole.

As you gave it a lube atleast, you pressed the tip of your cock to her glory hole. "Are you ready, mommy?"

"Y-yes, just allow me to adjust okay? Nice and slow."

"As you wish."

You slowly thrust, eliciting a moan and a sigh from her. She stayed still for a while as you gritted your teeth at how extremely tight your wife is. You can go ahead now, baby."

You fucked her with ease, adding a delightful sensation for yourselves. Sana can feel how stuffed her rear was, thanks to your enormously thick meat that's been making her very amused and satisfied for more than an hour now.

Her body moves back and forth; her breasts are madly bouncing from beneath, and you can see a glimpse of them, effectively encouraging you to touch them.

So you did. You bent your body on top of hers as you grabbed her perfecbig big tits and joined them in their swaying movement while giving them a few squeezes.

You kissed her back and neck. Sana flinched, causing her to lose balance on her arms as she crashed safetly on the bed, her breasts are now compressed to the mattress.

Removing yourself on top of her, you altered your position to continue fucking her in the ass with a comfortable fashion. Sana's eyes enlargened, she didn't hold back any batch of loud screams and whimpers and you went fast on fucking her this time in a scissor angle.

Her one leg raised to the air, her side figure laying down, you kneeling and pounding her ass further with the remaining energy you got.

"FUCK! IT'S SO DEEP, IT'S POKING MY WOMB BABY! KEEP DOING IT, I'M ALMOST AT MY END!!!"

You couldn't wait much longer, you went all in as you penetrated her until both of you cum simultaneously, exclaiming a huge moan and grunts especially Sana who is both releasing and getting filled up at the same time with your thick cum.

"Let's go for one more, then... we can rest."

Sana offered her hand to you, and you voluntarily took it, escorting her to get up from the bed. She walked to the front of the body mirror, where she could admiringly see both of your naked bodies standing against each other, looking like a matching pair.

She went flushed at your touch when you rubbed her torso before you went for her breasts, groping them with care and juggled them on your palm.

It turned into another shivering huff and moan when she kissed you, twirling her head upwards to meet your face.

While on a heated session with her, you started to rub your crotch on her ass to tease her. Sana can feel how it's beginning to wake up and become huge again from the crack in her rear.

She raised her arms, initiating you for the last position she has in idea. "Lock me up and fuck me."

No other questions for clarifications or concerns needed, that's all you need to have for you to follow her clear instruction as you simply inserted back your cock on her squelching pussy still creamy from the mixture of your cum altogether.

Sana watches lustfully on the mirror the perverted act that you two are committing. Her handsome husband unforgivingly ramming his hardened wood on his gorgeous wife's tight and warm pussy.

She can obviously see how you give you entire effort to fuck her mindless and achieve the pleasure she's wanting to feel, and she wants to tell you exactly if you might not know yet how grateful and glad she was for you.

"Y-you're doing so great, babe. Let's c-cut the act now here. I just want to let you know that I-I love you and thank you for this. Really, I'm so happy that it's got to be you who I can share these kind of moments with."

You smiled as Sana patted you in the cheek after giving you that appreciative words despite of the stutters from the impact of your pounding.

"I love you too, Sana. I'm just as pleased as you are." You kissed her on the cheek before you quickened your pace, as your impending release has made it presence for you to felt.

Sana knew what it means so she gripped on the back of your head as her body being lifted up and down from the ground. With few more strokes to go, you exploded another and final load of cum inside her pussy.

"As much as I would love for us to continue, I know it's enough for now and we're both tired." Sana patted your head and kissed you in the lips. "We can do more of these next time, but for now... let's have some rest. You did a good job for tonight, baby."

"Thanks, mommy Sana." You chuckled. "That's a hell of a performance you had there for me by the way, you can't blame me why I started to get turned on."

Sana laughed and slapped your arm. "If you loved it so much then you'll going to have it anytime you want whenever it's just the two of us."

"You're simply the best." You nodded and kissed her again before both of you took a shower together and changed into a comfortable sleeping garments as the newlyweds laid on the bed, embracing each other onto slumber.

Few hours later, you suddenly woke up earlier than what you expected, but you wouldn't dare to complain more as you can see the city of Seoul about to welcome the early morning of a brand new day.

You stood in the balcony with your glass of water and stared at the peaceful view as you regained your senses.

Sana who just woke up also after finding that you were no longer on her side in the bed, approaches you and cuddled you from behind.

"Good morning, babe."

"Good morning, my wife." You kissed her crown.

"Can't sleep?"

"No, just woke up early. Still feeling a little tired though."

Sana chuckled and pouted embarrassingly. "Sorry, I guess?" "Cmon, we both had fun so its fine." You hilariously took her response.

You moved her on your side and faced her lovingly. Placing your hand with Sana's, your wedding ring were in contact as you entangled your finger to hers.

"This is just all surreal for me. Being in here, knowing that I almost done most of what I've been dreaming and wishing for my life when I was younger back then. Finish my studies, be a professional engineer, my family now living in a better house, have my ideal girl as my girlfriend to marry her someday... and destiny brought you upon to me, Sana.

I'm so blessed to have you, really. You've been an incredible and perfect girlfriend for me. You stayed even in our highs and lows, hardships and mellow,  some of it almost tried to spread us apart and let go, but you never gave up as much as I did. And now that you're standing here as my beloved wife after us getting married yesterday, that sums up everything I need to know and believe that you love me no matter what happens. And I'm telling you that I will never stop loving you back and now all we can do is to hope we can build a wonderful family soon and I'll be the happiest father alive with you, Sana, as the wife of our kids. I love you more than anyone."

Your lips twitched, eyes blinked rapidly as its watery from the tears gathered up by your emotions. Sana hugged you instantly to calm you down, not minding herself who's also getting teary because of your heartfelt message.

"I want us to stay like this forever, and we accomplished that, right? I couldn't just let myself to break up with you thatt's why I want to settle those problems that we had. I don't want that to ruin our plans in the future, and look what led us today. I love you too, YN. Our faith and support for each other should always be there to keep this relationship to be strong and steady. And as your wife, I promise you that I'll continue to help you as I improve myself. It can be useful, well... from what we did last night; yeah hopefully... we can have our own child or more to raise." Sana replied, caressing your back as you cried in her shoulder. She also started to sniff her tears away, getting affected by your honest and sincere sentiment. "D-do you think I can be a perfect mother?" "I always believed in you, Sana. Ofcourse, yes you will be." You stroked her silky hair, smelling the enchanting scent of her shampoo. Sana blushed and shyly smiled, glad that you think of her positive as usual.

"Sorry if I'm being like this, I even made you cry." You chuckled. "I'm just lucky to have you, Sana."

"What are you saying? Don't apologize for saying something wholeheartedly. We've been through a lot anyway. It may be done, but I know it was exhausting, so it's best to just let it all out. I'm here for you, YN. I'll take it all away and be the one who catches all your tears."

Sana cradled your head as she hummed pleasantly to proceed on comforting you. Closing your eyes, you indulged her caring behavior.

Glancing at the golden daylight approaching, the sunrise emerges between the two lovers embracing their shared genuine and unbreakable fondness together.

[atheistcartoons]

“Of all the animosities which have existed among mankind, those which are caused by a difference of sentiments in religion appear to be the most inveterate and distressing, and ought to be deprecated. I was in hopes that the enlightened and liberal policy, which has marked the present age, would at least have reconciled Christians of every denomination so far that we should never again see the religious disputes carried to such a pitch as to endanger the peace of society.”

George Washington in a letter to Edward Newenham, October 20, 1792.

“History, I believe, furnishes no example of a priest-ridden people maintaining a free civil government. This marks the lowest grade of ignorance of which their civil as well as religious leaders will always avail themselves for their own purposes.”

Thomas Jefferson in a letter to Alexander von Humboldt, December 6, 1813.

“The civil government functions with complete success by the total separation of the Church from the State.”

James Madison, 1819.

“And I have no doubt that every new example will succeed, as every past one has done, in shewing that religion & Govt will both exist in greater purity, the less they are mixed together.”

James Madison in a letter to Edward Livingston, July 10, 1822.

“Every new and successful example of a perfect separation between ecclesiastical and civil matters is of importance.”

James Madison, 1822.

“When a religion is good, I conceive it will support itself; and when it does not support itself, and God does not take care to support it so that its professors are obligated to call for help of the civil power, it’s a sign, I apprehend, of its being a bad one.”

Benjamin Franklin in a letter to Richard Price, October 9, 1780.

“As I understand the Christian religion, it was, and is, a revelation. But how has it happened that millions of fables, tales, legends, have been blended with both Jewish and Christian revelation that have made them the most bloody religion that ever existed?”

John Adams in a letter to F.A. Van der Kamp, Dec. 27, 1816.

“What influence, in fact, have ecclesiastical establishments had on society? In some instances they have been seen to erect a spiritual tyranny on the ruins of the civil authority; on many instances they have been seen upholding the thrones of political tyranny; in no instance have they been the guardians of the liberties of the people. Rulers who wish to subvert the public liberty may have found an established clergy convenient auxiliaries. A just government, instituted to secure and perpetuate it, needs them not.”

James Madison in “A Memorial and Remonstrance”, 1785.

“Congress has no power to make any religious establishments.”

Roger Sherman, Congress, August 19, 1789.

“We have abundant reason to rejoice that in this Land the light of truth and reason has triumphed over the power of bigotry and superstition. In this enlightened Age and in this Land of equal liberty it is our boast, that a man’s religious tenets will not forfeit the protection of the Laws, nor deprive him of the right of attaining and holding the highest Offices that are known in the United States.”

George Washington in a letter to the members of the New Church in Baltimore, January 27, 1793.

“This would be the best of all possible worlds, if there were no religion in it.”

John Adams.

“Christianity neither is, nor ever was a part of the common law.”

Thomas Jefferson in a letter to Dr. Thomas Cooper, February 10, 1814.

“Ecclesiastical establishments tend to great ignorance and corruption, all of which facilitate the execution of mischievous projects.”

James Madison.

“The purpose of separation of church and state is to keep forever from these shores the ceaseless strife that has soaked the soil of Europe in blood for centuries.”

James Madison in an 1803 letter.

”I am for freedom of religion and against all maneuvers to bring about a legal ascendancy of one sect over another.”

Thomas Jefferson in a letter to Elbridge Gerry, January 26, 1799.

“Of all the tyrannies that affect mankind, tyranny in religion is the worst.”

Thomas Paine.

“I wish [Christianity] were more productive of good works … I mean real good works … not holy-day keeping, sermon-hearing … or making long prayers, filled with flatteries and compliments despised by wise men, and much less capable of pleasing the Deity.”

Benjamin Franklin in Works, Vol. VII, p. 75.

[maggotknight]

Tech priest romance confirmed for Dark Heresy

Rejoice !

[tokoyamisstuff]

Run Rabbit, Run.

3,6k. words | Alexander Anderson x f! goth! Reader | enemies to friends | open-ended | slow-burn | hurt-comfort | not proofread

Synopsis: While investigating supernatural murders in a small town, Anderson jumps into wrong conclusions.

Warnings: Blood, injury, stockholm-syndrome?

A/N: inspired by some guys in our town that would always call the cops on us goths, saying 'dark figures are doing satanic rituals' (we were literally just chilling)

"Put on the whole armor of God, that you may be able to stand against the schemes of the devil."

You run as fast as you can, but he keeps pace easily, merely strolling as he wears you out.

"For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness..."

A bayonett pierces the tree next to your skull and you let out a bloodcurling scream.

"...against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places."

The woods are swallowed by a pitch black tonight, eventually making you trip and fall. Blood runs down your calf, the sharp pain in your leg numbed by the adrenaline rushing through your veins. You try to get up, to keep running, but it's too late...he got you.

"Amen."

The man in front of you was wearing the robe of a priest, looming over you with a manic grin stretched across his face.

When he started his chase you had thought him to be insane, a mass murderer who was merely disguising himself as a man of faith.

That theory would soon prove to be wrong - and the truth is way worse.

"What a bloody waste of time" he thinks, watching you squirm in the dirt like some cornered animal.

If he had known how pathetically weak you are beforehand, he wouldn't have bothered coming himself. Sending Yumie or Heinkel instead would've sufficed by far, and even that would be flattery for some cheap excuse of a demon like you.

Boring, but now that he's here, might as well enjoy the hunt...

"Please...I have no idea what you want from me!" Countless begs drop from your lips, clinging to the hem of his coat as you try to explain yourself, yet he wouldn't budge. Usually he'd have a violent outburst at such a vile creature touching him, but much to his own surprise, he remained frozen, staring at you with a mixture of irritation and sympathy.

"My, what a sweet voice you have." He looks down to your torn dress, a wound gaping on your leg. So you're too weak to even heal your own injuries. "That must really hurt, little one."

The assassin sees dried blood straining your clothes, skin, fingertips, tainting himself as well. He had found you like this, in an empty alleyway crouched over a fresh corpse, claiming you merely wanted to save them.

How foolish of you to run off into the woods, where he could get rid of you without causing disturbance for bystanders.

"Such a young gal" he looks at you with a stern, almost pitying expression. "Had her whole life still in front of her. What a shame."

Maybe you were turned against your will, left confused and afraid after your bloodrage got the better off you.

Anderson shakes his head, trying to become rational again. He's used to all kinds of deceit, has fallen deaf to any pleads over time. After all, the last time he hesitated, he's got a lesson that's still written clearly on his left cheek.

Ever since then he promised himself to never show mercy again.

Seeing him brace his weapons, you shuffle until your back hit the tree behind, shouting at the man. "Do-on't touch me, you freak!"

"You're one to talk" he scoffs, crouching over your trembling form. He gazes at you without any malice, considering to grant you a merciful death. "But lemme tell ya'...if you behave, I'll make it quick."

A hint of guilt flashes over his face, as he calmly draws his bayonetts, thrill dampened by the tragic circumstances. He carefully, almost tenderly holds it against your neck, whispering "Rejoice, for I'll bring you salvation from this horrid fate."

Just when he takes a swing you seize the opportunity, ramming a sharp branch into his sides, right beneath the ribs. You had hoped to temporarily paralyze him, but much to your horror he didn't even flinch...

...moreso, he easily pulled it out of his flesh, the wound healing in an instant.

"Ye lil' rat..." the man practically growls, pupils dilated and baring his sharp canines at you.

"You...you're the monster here!" you shriek, grabbing a handful of dirt and throw it into his eyes, partially blinding him. He coughs, needing a few seconds to orientate, but when he looked again, you were already gone. "Feisty lil' thing...didn't think she had it in her."

Well, now he's not only pissed that you deceived him - he's downright excited. This mission had just become significantly more fun.

Anderson will relish in tearing you apart...slowly and painfully.

"Come out, ya heathen." His voice echoes through the woods, as if coming from all sides at once. "I can feel your fear."

What an amazing feat for a man of his calibre to move without making a sound. No leaves, not even a stick breaks as he walks, nothing indicating from what direction he might strike.

You see the town's lights at the horizon, limping as fast as your legs can carry you. If only you could make it out of here and call for help, then-

"Gotcha!" The priest's voice didn't even dring to your ear before he grabbed you by the throat, slamming you so hardly onto a nearby tree that all air left your lungs. Your head is spinning and you kick and claw at his arm, but his grip is relentless. He leans close to your ear, breath hot against your cold skin, making you shiver. "Stop resisting and accept your divine punishment."

"How...often...do I need to...tell you?" you wring out, feeling as if you're close to losing consciousness. "I-I am not a vampire, damnit!"

"Silence!" he now screams, sending a violent tremor through your body. "The dead do not speak...and their soulless bodies shouldn't roam this earth."

"Prove it, then" he taunts, "But I doubt ya' could."

Your mind went a mile an hour, scanning for everything you possibly knew about vampires, myth or not. Without any other options, you clasp the cross dangling from his neck. "I-I shouldn't be able to touch this, right?"

Powerful demons are able of many feats, but then again you don't seem even close to that level. Still, he senses some kind of greater scheme behind that innocent demeanour of yours.

Even while being practically invulnerable, Anderson won't let his guard down this time. He throws you to the ground, hurt pride recovering as he enjoys you writhe in pain. "Ye can't fool me again, fiend."

For the fraction of a second he is taken aback, seeing actual tears instead of red liquid escaping your eyes. He grunts in annoyance at this soft spot in his heart he never really could erase, janking you up by the hair. "Look at me..." he orders harshly, a sadistic glint in his eyes. "I love to watch the light go out."

Weighting your options you tackle him out of sheer exasperation, despite his strenght surprising the man enough to make him lose balance. Before he can react you sink your teeth deep into his neck, but without fangs you can't even break the skin. Anderson growls, no, almost moans at the sensation, shocked with the way his body reacted to the sudden proximity.

"See? See?" you point to your dull teeth, but the man is less than impressed by your drastic measurement.

"Bloody hell, woman! Get off of me!" he yells as he throws you away, now being on top and pining you down onto the damp grass, once again rendering you helpless. "I'm a man of god, do you have no shame?"

"What else was I supposed to do?!" you snap back at the man, chest heaving in between sobs. Anderson can barely contain his bloodlust, but beneath it there lies another kind of sensation he doesn't want to acknowledge. He seems flabbergasted by your boldness, contemplating whether to abandon his purge for now.

"Fine..." he rubs his temple, a headache forming as his gaze wanders to your quivering lips. "But I'll chain you up for examination. And don't you dare trying something funny again!"

"Alri-" Your words got stuck right in your throat, seeing red irises gleam in the dark from the corner of your eye. "Watch out, behind you!"

The priest narrows his eyes. "Oi c'mon, yer not really thinking I fall for this-" Your captor's words stuck right in his throat as a sword cut deeply into his neck - not enough to decapitate him though.

"Oh, I see you even brought me desert" a grim voice appeared behind the two of you. "How considerate, Father."

This was your chance, wasn't it? You could just run and leave them to themselves, hoping they'd busy each other in a fight long enough to return to safety.

And yet you don't.

"Shit, wai-wait..." you have to keep yourself from gagging as you pull out the cold steel from his flesh, watching as the tissue repaired itself like it was nothing. You threw the weapon right back at the attacker, though he catched it with ease and scattered it with his bare hands.

Anderson was quick to react, this time not taking any chances to debate if you're trustworthy. If you're really a civilian, he won't be able to fight as long as you're close. He throws some kind of artifact your way, a batch of enhanced bible verses and a flask of holy water just in case. "Run, you fool!"

The real vampire chuckles quite amused at the scene, overconfident and boastful now. "Noble one you are, eh? And I was so careful to set her up, too..."

"Good grace...you made me go after that woman?!" God's guillotine glares at him with a feral wrath, but the demon simply shrugs. "Townsfolk loves to gossip, and it's fairly easy to accuse someone that so deliberately making themselves an outcast."

"Quiet, you wicked hellspawn!" The priest's head cracks as he moved it from left to right, testing the healed muscles. "And my eye will not spare, nor will I have pity. I will punish you according to your ways, while your abominations are in your midst..."

"Amen!" you exclaim, and just when Anderson was about to launch an attack, something pierces the enemy from behind.

The priest gasps as he recognizes one of his own bayonetts, sticking out of the vampire's chest. You had plucked it from a nearby tree, returning instead of saving yourself.

Due to lack of both strenght and experience, you miss his heart by far. Luckily it was enough to distract the abomination, so Anderson set one swift finishing blow.

The otherworldly being instantly dissolves into ashes, and for a while you just stand there, staring at each other in awe.

Anderson is covered in blood now, his own as well as the demons. He's wheezing, breath visible as white fog and he snarls like a damn bloodhound, visibly dissatisfied with the outcome. To grant this creature such an easy demise left a foul aftertaste - he wanted to make it pay for using him to hurt an innocent bystander.

Damn it, he almost killed you!

You are still deeply in shock at the events, heart beating threateningly loud against your ears. Rooted on spot, you dread the worst when the priest approaches you. He reaches out and you wince, but he merely puts a reassuring hand on the top of your head. "That sure was reckless" he scolded, yet his lips curled into a proud grin. "I'm impressed."

In an instant his menacing aura had disappeared completely, being replaced with genuine concern. "Are you alright, lamb?"

You opened and closed your mouth a few times, instinctively moving away from your former attacker but stumbling again. Instead of falling however you were caught in the priest's strong arms, amazed at how fast he could move if he wanted to.

If he had taken you serious, you would never have survived this far. The thought sent a shiver down your spine.

"Come" he lifts you up with ease and you blink up at him between wettened lashes, far too exhausted to struggle any longer. "Let's get you somewhere safe."

Only now you realize that you were freezing, curling up against his body as he carried you bridal style to the motel room he had booked for the mission. A few minutes later you sit on a rundown mattress, knees pulled towards your chest as you tried to process the events of this night.

"Sorry for the wait" his voice shook you up as he entered the room, "Had to make a call and report back to the Vatican." You nod mutely and watch as he picks up a small first-aid-kit, kneeling down in front of you. "Show me yer' leg."

"H-He-e-ey!" you object as he tries to lift your dress out of the way, but he frowns as if you had just accused him of something horrible. "I already told you, woman: I am a man of god. So relax, would ya?" You pout but surrender, pulling the fabric aside yourself. "Just a wee lil' scratch, you're gonna be alright."

Trying to distract yourself from the pain your eyes dart around the room, but then they are stuck on the man himself, taking a proper look at him for the first time: Grey strands were shimmering through his wild blonde spikes, blueish-green eyes glistening behind round glasses. A deep scar adorned his left cheek, proof of his - at least past - humanity.

He had discarded his bloodied robe and gloves, revealing more muscle than his tall build indicated. You shiver as he absentmindedly squeezes your thigh, working with great concentration.

"I'm patching others up all day" he assures, filling the silence with small-talk. "The children at my orphanage hurt themselves quite often. Reckless folk."

"You-ah!" you hiss as he wipes the wound clean with more pressure, and you shudder. "You are working with children?"

"Yeah. What about it?" He furrowed his brows, looking downright offended and you couldn't help but snort. "Nothing, really. It's just...two vastly different professions, dont'cha think?"

"You're lucky I found my conscience today" he half-jokes, half-confesses. "Usually I don't care if a heathen get's hurt. Hell, I'd even do it myself." Wow. Very soothing, really. "But ya saved me and I guess it can't hurt to return the courtesy..."

At least he has some sense of honor.

"You got a foul mouth for a priest" you utter under your breath, but he catches it anyways. "And you got a lotta nerve running through the woods at night, dressed like a damn devil worshipper."

Momentarily, you both scowl at each other before breaking out in refreshing laughter.

"I'm not a satanist" you snort, but he won't have any of it. There's a literal pentagram embroidered on the chest piece of your dress, after all. "Then why do you dress like one?" Rolling your eyes, you cross your arms in defense. "It's a subculture, old man. A fashion style. And to my defenses, I didn't even know that any of the occult is real..."

Oh, if only you knew the true extent of evil in this world, you'd be terrified. Or maybe not? Iscariot could always use people with your guts, but he doesn't voice that thought.

If anything, you deserved a long and safe life.

"Hopeless task, making sinners see the light. That's why I prefer gutting them." He makes a dismissive wave of his hand, plummeting down on the bed right next to you. "All done." You smile as you let one hand run over the bandage, expressing your gratitude.

"...m'sorry, little one" he's not meeting your eyes anymore, forearms resting on his knees. "And thank you for helping a wrench like me despite my transgressions. Let's hope the lord will reward such actions."

"Yeah, maybe..." Actually you weren't that much of a believer - but hey, everything you just witnessed might make you pick up a bible soon.

"Do you want me to bring you somewhere?" You mentally consider an answer, but find no sufficient one. To be honest you didn't want to be alone right now. But there was no one you'd be comfortable to bother so late at night in case of friends, and no relatives lived nearby either.

But what's the alternaive? The man at your side surely has better things to do than babysitting you, even if he wasn't a stranger you just met...and almost got murdered by.

Noticing your distress, he wordlessly stood up, the mattress creaking as it was relieved from his massive weight. "Take the bed, I'll sleep on the sofa."

"Bu-but I couldn't possibly-"

"You can, and you will " he protests, "It's the least I can do to make up for what I've done."

"N-No!" you then shout, grabbing onto his sleeve. "I'd be damned if I let a holy man sleep on that small couch." He looks at you baffled, as if he cannot think of the obvious alternative. "Lay down, there's...there's enough room for both of us."

The man looks at you dumbfounded, making you chuckle. "What's the matter? You said you're a man of god, right?"

"...lil' brat."

Anderson sighed deeply, hesistant to do as you told him to. But eventually he gave in, lying on the other side of the bed so far away from you that he threatened to fall over the edge. Just the mere thought of this indecency made his heart beat uncontrollably loud in his chest. "What's your name?" he asks, so you don't notice.

"Y/N" you breathe out in a whisper, "Y/N Y/L/N." He repeats it, tasting the name on his tongue. It's as sweet as the sound of your voice. "What about you?"

"Anderson. Paladin Alexander Anderson" he corrects himself with his proper title. You smile to yourself, an oddly safe feeling encoating you with him at your side. "Well, despite everything, it was nice meeting you, Father Alexander Anderson."

"The pleasure is all mine."

Surprisingly, you had quickly drifted into a deep slumber, body desperate for rest. For a moment you thought it was all just a dream, an obscure nightmare, but then you realized where you were...and with whom.

"Alex- Father?" Your voice is husky and small against the sound of his soft snore in your ear, and instead of waking he shuffles even closer. The feeling of his broad chest against your back makes goosebumps raise on your skin, yet you refused to enjoy cuddling with a literal celibate.

Not wanting to embarrass him you try to scoot away, but the tall man has got you perfectly secure in his hold, an arm and leg wrapped around your much smaller form, tightening his embrace each time you moved. "Umm..." you turn to face him and dare to cup his cheek, gently caressing it to wake him up. His eyes snap open and he reflexively grabs your wrist, breathing heavily. "Hey, big guy, it's okay...good morning."

"What the-" Noticing the delicate situation he stumbles so far back that he lands ass-first on the floor, making you break out in boisterous laughter. "I'm so sorry" you wheeze, lending him a hand. "No idea how we ended up in that position."

Anderson lets out a low growl, stretching his back as he stood up. "I don't know about you" you teased, "But I've slept very well." He'd rather die than to admit he hasn't rested like that in years, if not decades. "...I'll make us breakfast" he announces grumpily, "Bath's on the left."

Shortly later you sit at the small kitchen table across each other, munching on stale toast. Since your clothes were torn and bloody Alex got you a spare shirt of his, long enough to cover you up to the knees. Gosh, if his superiors would see him being with a woman like that they'd probably excommunicate him.

"So..." you adress the elephant in the room, "When are you supposed to be back?"

"Already contacted the order while you were showering. Will be picked up in 30 minutes." Hearing this made you somewhat woeful. You'd wish to stay and riddle him about that amazing life of his, but were pretty sure he wasn't allowed to answer either way. You bite back the burning question if you'd ever meet again, simply answering "Oh...great."

"Promise me ya' will stay outta that devilish business, a'ight?" he grins almost mischievously, "Next time I see ya' tryna seduce innocent priests, I'll think you're a succubus."

You blow a raspberry at the man. "Me?!" You point a dramatic finger towards him, "Maybe you're the one enticing innocent maidens after saving them."

You both exchange smiles and meaningful looks, talking so carefree and enjoyable that time passed faster than you wanted.

"Here ya' go." He pushes some money into your palm, hand lingering on yours as long as he could allow himself to. "Call a taxi. The roads are dangerous for a sweet lil' thing like yerself."

"Thank you, Alex- I mean Father. For everything."

Six months later, Anderson was currently back at the orphanage from another mission, reading a novel in his room. He'd find his thoughts wandering back to you more often these days, having given up on his hopes that this feeling would ease over time.

Letting his free hand run over his neck where you bit him back then, a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. What a woman you were. He's glad to have met you, and he'll at least allow himself to keep those memories locked in his heart forever.

"Father Anderson?" One of the nuns knocks on his door, tearing him away from those silly thoughts. "I'm here, yes."

"Someone wants a word with you" the woman explains as he sticks his head outta the slightly ajar door. She points towards the window in the hallway, whispering "Apparently about joining Iscariot. She's waiting outside in the garden."

"Understood. You may leave." Anderson was left confused but not for long - because as soon as he looked outside, he saw the last person he ever expected to see again. You timidly looked around, dressed in a black robe like usual, yet adorned with a silver cross instead of pentagrams and the likes.

Coincidentally you notice him standing at the window, eyes lighting up and waving eagerly at the man. It takes everything inside of him to not rush outside and pull you right into his arms after such a long time - at least in public he wouldn't.

Oh, he always knew you were special.