#rejoicing priest

[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

[luthienne]

entering a handel aria competition is great because there's so much handel rep to choose from. [sobbing] there's so much handel rep to choose from

[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!”

[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

[osmerharris]

Gathering all the chief priests and elders he inquired about this king of the Jews. Matthew 2: 1-12.

If you were hoping for a continued foray into the book of Romans, I must apologize because I am an obsessive multitasker. I had been feeling like I needed to do as I started almost twenty years ago, to read through the New Testament slowly while writing down my thoughts and questions as I went. I really did not want to disrupt your lives if you should be meticulously following me, but since…

[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.

[ao3-rex1223]

TᖇᗩᗪE Iᑎ - ᖴᗩTᕼEᖇ-Iᑎ-ᒪᗩᗯ ᒪEOᑎ

▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ ██ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂ ▁ ▂ ▄ ▅ ▆ ▇ ██ ▇ ▆ ▅ ▄ ▂

Pairing: Father-in-law!Leon Kennedy x Married Fem!Reader

Summary: You marry who you believe is the man of your dreams. At your wedding, you meet your extremely sexy father in law, Leon Kennedy. When your husband becomes neglectful, Leon is there to be a friend...and perhaps even more.

Tags: Fluff and Smut, Porn With Plot, Cheating, Reader is married but her husband is a neglectful prick, father-in-law sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Multiple Orgasms, Size Kink, Creampie

Special thanks to @lipglossanon for the graphic! <3

“You may now kiss the bride,” the priest happily announces, raising his hands up and rejoicing for the beautiful union he's just officiated. 

Your husband, Chase, pulls you into him for a deep kiss. You wrap your arms happily around his neck, pressing your body to his. Your heart soars as you finally get to call the love of your life your husband…or at least you think he's the love of your life.

The rest of the afternoon is a blur of photographs, hugs, and greeting your guests. The wedding dress was comfortable when you tried it on at the bridal shop but, damn, it was getting hot now. The tight bodice doesn't help, either. You're relieved when the night finally arrives and you can sit down to eat at the reception. You happily gobble up the dry chicken breast and steamed veggies. 

When dinner and all the speeches are done, you share your first dance with Chase. God, he looks so handsome in his tuxedo. You can't wait to rip it off later. He gently peppers your face with soft kisses and your panties are getting wet. “I love you so much, baby,” you purr, gently whispering in his ear while your guests all look on. You look longingly into his eyes, as if there’s no one else in the room. 

Chase smiles and kisses you deeply. You lose yourself in the heat and passion of his lips. The first dance ends and the dance floor fills with guests; your friends and family alike! You grin widely as you celebrate your beautiful union with your loved ones. 

Finally, a very handsome looking man who reminds you of Chase approaches you. His straight, brown hair hangs slightly around his forehead, topping off a square face. His jaw is sharply angled and speckled with stubble. It’s ruggedly sexy, just like your husband when he forgets to shave. “I'm sorry, I haven't gotten a chance to meet you, yet. I'm Leon. Chase’s father.” He smiles warmly at you.

Clasping your hands together in front of your chest, you light up, excited that you finally get to meet your father-in-law. Leon is an agent with the government and is gone a lot so the stars just never aligned for you two to meet until now. “Oh! Mr. Kennedy! I'm so glad to finally meet you!”

“Please, call me Leon,” he corrects politely and reaches out his hand for yours. “May I dance with my new daughter-in-law?”

You blush with happiness and glee. You're thrilled to have such a sweet father-in-law! Your own father was absent most of your life. He and your mother split when you were little and he’s been gone ever since. You're not even sure where he is. “I'd love to!” You take his hand and follow him to an open spot on the crowded dance floor. He gently places his hand on your waist while holding your hand with his other. You place your free hand on his shoulder and begin dancing. “Chase has told me so much about you!”

Leon chuckles, his charming laugh and easy smile the same as his son's. “Hopefully all good things.” He flashes his pearly whites and looks at you with warm eyes. 

You giggle. “Yes. Chase really looks up to you. He always talks about how hard you work. You've saved a lot of lives!”

Leon shrugs and smiles sheepishly. “It's not really a big deal…”

“You saved the president’s daughter! That's a big deal!” you argue playfully. 

“Anyone could have done it.” He twirls you around as you dance then brings you back into his arms.

“Oh come on now, you know that's not true!” you smirk at him, charmed by his humble attitude. 

“Well, thank you.” His smile fades. “It's been a double edged sword though.”

“Oh?” You ask, your face mirroring his. 

He nods solemnly with a guilty sigh. “I was away a lot. I missed a lot of big things in my son's life. Chase’s mom, my ex-wife, didn't like waiting around for me either.” He smiles sadly. “My marriage ended because I was never around. So I took a partial retirement and now, I just take a few missions here and there so I can be there for Chase…and my new daughter-in-law,” he explains, a more cheerful expression returning to his face.

“I'm glad to hear that! I know Chase has a few business trips coming up so I could definitely use some help renovating the house.”

“Won’t you be busy at work?” Leon asks, his head cocked to one side. 

“Chase and I talked and I decided I wanted to stay home. Chase makes more than enough to support us both…” you begin and blush brightly, “and our future children.”

Leon lights up with a bright grin. “Are you…?”

You chuckle with a wide grin. “No, not yet. Chase and I decided to wait until marriage.”

Leon swallows hard, a look crosses his face that seems almost guilty, but he quickly masks it with another smile. “That's…so beautiful…you waited for him…” He can’t help himself. He leans in and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’m so happy for you two. My son is the luckiest guy in the world.” He twirls you again. “I promise, I’ll be around for you both AND your kids…my grand kids.” He lets out a shaky laugh and drops his gaze to the floor for a moment. “Man…I’ll be a grandfather.”

Your eyes sparkle with endearment. “You look too young to be a grandfather.”

Leon’s cheeks blush. “Yeah…Chase’s mother and I were pretty rambunctious teenagers…She got pregnant when we were seventeen.”

You try to keep your eyes from widening. You knew Chase’s parents were young when they had him but… “Well, I guess I can’t blame his mother…with a boyfriend as handsome as you…”

Leon smiles again, cute dimples forming on his cheeks. “You’re sweet. I see why Chase married you. You remind me a lot of me and Chase’s mother.” He frowns and shakes his head when he realizes he may have implied that you two won’t last. “I didn’t mean…that came out wrong. I just mean, the way you look at him and the way you talk about him, it’s just like how my ex-wife and I used to look at each other. You two will be fine. Just make sure Chase stays home once in a while,” he jokes with a wink. 

You chuckle. “I will.” 

You continue to dance with your new father-in-law and when the song ends, you peck a soft kiss to his cheek. “I’m so glad we have you in our lives, Leon.” 

He picks up both your hands and kisses your knuckles. “Likewise, sweetheart.”

At the end of the night, you return to the bridal suite, but are surprised to find it empty; you had planned to meet Chase here at midnight. Oh well, you think to yourself. He's probably just having fun with his friends. You sigh and turn to head into the bathroom to wash up and change out of your dress. You don the sexy, lacy lingerie set you bought to wear for him for your first night together. You smile as you look at yourself in the full body mirror, excited that you'll both be losing your virginity to each other. An hour passes and there’s no sign of Chase, but you know he had been having a great time with his groomsman. 

After another thirty minutes, Chase finally strolls into the bridal suite, surprisingly less inebriated than you expected him to be. You let slide the fact that he made you wait for an hour and a half and instead greet him with a warm smile. “Hey, handsome,” you coo, standing up from the bed to show him your lacy bra and panties. Your body thrums with anticipation for finally joining with your husband in every way possible.

He looks at you with mild interest, not that you realize it right now. “Hey,” he replies with a lukewarm tone. “You look nice,” he compliments, though it’s forced. He calmly walks inside and doffs his tuxedo jacket, gently laying it across the armchair. 

“I got this for you, baby,” you explain with a hopeful smile, gesturing to your revealing outfit. 

He forces another smile and kisses your cheek and replies, “Thank you.”

You tenderly grab his hand. “Are you ready to… go to bed ?” you mutter suggestively. 

Chase smirks lightly and nods. “Sure.”

You crawl into bed and wait as he takes off the rest of his clothes. He sits on the edge and strokes his cock a few times; it slowly hardens. You tremble with excitement as you stare at him…he looks…well you’re not sure if it’s big or small…you haven’t seen many before…

He crawls on top of you and kisses you gently as he guides his cock to your entrance. You feel a sharp pinch as he invades you, stretching your walls. You wince. I thought this was supposed to feel good , you think to yourself, feeling disappointed. He glides into you further, the sharp stinging only increasing. Tears pool in your eyes from the pain. “S-slow d-down,” you plead. 

“Sorry,” Chase mumbles and slows his pace. He pumps a few times, then groans. He stills, holding himself inside you as he cums. He flops onto the bed next to you and rolls over, your marriage officially consummated and your virginity officially gone. 

You love him, you really do, so you’re naturally very upset with yourself when all you can think is, Is this it? You lay awake staring at the ceiling in the hotel suite while you feel Chase’s warm cum sliding out of you. Finally, exhaustion takes you and you fall asleep. 

When you wake the next morning, Chase is gone. The sun beams in through the thin curtains of the suite. You rub your eyes, still sore and puffy from such a long and exhausting day yesterday. You slowly crawl out of bed, trying to feel happy about finally being married. You put on your best smile and get dressed for the day, hopeful that everything will only get better…

But it doesn’t. Chase is almost constantly away for work. Your mood slowly declines. Is this really all there is to marriage? You had hoped Chase would be around long enough to help you paint the guest room, but no such luck. You remember how enthusiastically Chase’s father, Leon, offered to help out if you needed. You contemplate for a while but eventually call him.

He answers after a few rings. “Hey, there!” he greets cheerfully. “How’s my favorite daughter-in-law?”

You chuckle. You’re his only daughter-in-law. “Hey, Leon. I was wondering…could you help me paint the guest room today? I promise I’ll pay you!”

You hear Leon’s soft chuckle. “You are not going to pay me. I’d be happy to help.”

You sigh with relief. “Thank you!” You brainstorm for a second, trying to figure out a way to thank him. “How about I cook you a nice lunch instead?”

“Only if you join me,” he replies happily. 

You chuckle softly with a bright smile. “Of course!”

“I’ll be right over,” Leon confirms. 

True to his word, he arrives a few minutes later, engulfing you in a big hug. He looks handsome in his tight gray T-shirt and old jeans. His thick biceps peek out from the sleeves. “Let’s get started, yeah?”

You nod and lead him to the guest room, already taped, tarped, and ready for a coat of paint. The afternoon flies by as you work and talk with your father-in-law. You laugh more than you have in weeks, your entire marriage so far. 

“So what do you and Chase like to do for fun?” Leon asks innocently. He reaches up with the roller and carefully swipes another stripe of paint onto the wall. 

You pause, trying hard to think of an answer. Chase is hardly around. The last time you did something together was…before you were married really… “Well…Chase has been busy. He’s away a lot for work,” you explain, making excuses for your absent husband. 

Leon frowns and looks at you with sympathy. “Do you want me to have a talk with him?”

“Oh no, you don’t have to do that! He’s gotta make the money for the two of us, you know? And our future kids!”

“Any developments on that front?” Leon asks casually with a hopeful smile. He resumes painting but periodically turns back to look at you as he does. 

“Well, no…we haven’t really been trying. I’ve wanted to…I’d love nothing more than to be a mom…but Chase is usually pretty tired when he gets home…we just haven’t had time.” You avoid looking at Leon, realizing how sad your explanation sounds. 

“My son is an idiot,” Leon declares frankly as he returns to painting. “When I first married my wife…I couldn’t keep my hands off her…we were at it every day…sometimes more than once,” he reveals. 

You chuckle. “I love Chase. We’re just getting settled right now…that’s all.”

Leon hums affirmatively in reply. You finish painting the guest room and enjoy a nice lunch together, talking and laughing like old friends. He stays all day and you even end up cooking dinner and watching a movie together. 

When it’s finally time for him to go home, you embrace him tenderly. “Thank you for everything, Leon!”

He returns the hug gladly. “No problem. Call me whenever you need me, when my knucklehead son is too busy to be with his wife. ” He gives you a content smile, but there’s more emotion behind it. You can’t see it now, but he’s jealous of his son. You’re so beautiful and kind. He can’t help but gravitate toward you. He pulls himself away, knowing he can’t allow himself to lose control and do something he will regret for the rest of his life. “Goodnight, sweetheart,” he adds softly and kisses your forehead. 

The weeks go by and Chase continues to be away on business trips for days at a time. When he is home, he barely pays attention to you. You practically throw yourself at him and he still barely makes love to you and when he does, it’s devoid of the pleasure that you’ve heard comes with making love; the feeling that your friends and all those cheesy romance books describe. Surely you’re missing something or doing something wrong. Every night you're in bed alone, you cry yourself to sleep, plagued with loneliness. As time goes on, you start to look forward to Chase being gone; that means you have an excuse to invite Leon over. He makes you feel whole, warm…loved. When he's around, there are no tears, only happiness and laughter.

You grin with joy one morning when you hear a knock on the door, knowing your father-in-law is on the other side. You run to answer and jump into his arms when he walks inside. 

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he greets warmly, wrapping his strong arms around you and spinning you around. “What's on the agenda today?”

“I thought we could start a garden. I'd like to plant some tomatoes, cucumbers, and zucchini.”

Leon smiles. “No problem. Let's get started.”

You grin happily and lead him to the back yard. The day passes with laughter and inside jokes, time slipping away as the world around you disappears, leaving only you and Leon, the person who makes you happy. Truly happy. 

When you walk back into the house for dinner, you're both sunburnt and sore, but your joyous smiles persist, underpinned by the deep affection you share for each other. 

Leon groans a bit, carefully stretching. “Man…I'm not 20 anymore.”

You hand him a glass of ice water. “I couldn't tell by looking at you,” you compliment. He's incredibly handsome and it takes everything in you to try and ignore it. 

He happily downs the cold drink, his Adam's apple bobbing every time he swallows. The sight makes your mouth water. You're overrun with an urge to kiss his thick neck. You shake your head and swallow hard, trying to rattle the depraved thoughts from your mind. I'm married! “I'll go start on dinner.”

You glance occasionally at your wedding ring which right now feels like a prison. Why does it have to be this hard? Leon makes you so happy. You smile and laugh when he's around. You feel like yourself; you feel whole.  

You season and prepare a few steaks to grill for you and Leon. Your body aches for his touch even though sex has been merely a chore for you at this point. You take several deep breaths, trying to realign your thoughts with your morals, which are dangerously close to collapsing, anyway. 

You finish cooking and serve the meal. Leon is eternally grateful, unlike Chase whenever you cook for him. He simply eats and leaves. “This looks amazing! You're a real master chef!” Leon compliments. 

You preen from his praise. “Happy to cook for the best handyman around!”

“You sure you don't want me to scold my son and get him to stay around more?” He offers with genuine desire to help. 

You contemplate, but the first thought that comes to mind is if Chase is around more, Leon will be around less. You certainly don't want that! “Oh no, that's okay. I'll talk to him!” 

You won't. 

Leon smiles and relaxes back into his chair, returning to his delicious meal. After dinner, you take his hand and bring him to the living room for a movie. 

“What's on the docket for tonight, sweetheart?” Leon asks. He plops down onto the couch, settling into the soft cushion with a relaxed sigh. 

“You pick.”

“The Godfather?”

“I love that one!” You gleefully reply and quickly start the movie. Without thinking, you grab a blanket, snuggle in close to Leon and cover the two of you. It's as easy as breathing. He wraps his arms around you and you lay against him, secure in his warm embrace and happier than you ever have been. 

As the credits roll, you look up at him, eyes heavy with sleep. You spot a small smudge of soil from the garden on his chin. With a soft giggle, you gently wipe it away with your thumb. “Missed a little dirt.”

He smiles slightly from your touch and turns to face you, his eyes glazed with desire. Like magnets drawn together, his lips close the distance with yours almost by instinct. 

The softness surprises but excites you. His kiss is gentle, tender, everything you'd hoped for in a kiss. Your mouths mold to fit each other, like you've been waiting to do this your whole lives. As the kiss lengthens, your lips part, as if on cue, making way for your eager tongues to dance together. 

Your warm breaths mingle in the cool air along with the electricity surrounding you. You feel his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling your face closer to his, his strong, calloused digits rubbing your scalp. You lean in closer and slide your hands by his face, cupping his jaw on either side. The soft pads of your thumbs gently caress his cheek. He lets out a soft moan. Dropping his hands to your waist he guides you onto your back on the couch without breaking the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck, keeping him tight against you. He supports his weight with his forearms. You feel his hardening cock press against your thigh, causing red, hot desire to course through you.

A breathy whimper escapes your tender lips and your eyes slip closed as you surrender to the passion igniting between you. Just as the thrilling euphoria begins, it ends as Leon pulls away. Your eyes fly open, watching him retreat from you, then the couch. He heads for the door quickly, shoving his feet into his shoes and flying out the door without a word. 

You’re left alone, confused, your heart in a storm of passion, desire, and sin. 

Days go by without hearing anything from Leon. The silence slowly drives you mad. Chase is due home tonight and you feel as though you should at least have a conversation with Leon before you confess your transgressions to your husband. You sigh heavily as your period arrives right on time, a confirmation that you still have not conceived a child, one of your biggest life dreams. Your hope of happiness begins to fade as you feel tragically isolated once more, longing for even platonic companionship. Chase tries to engage with you but when he finds out you’re menstruating, he pulls away and leaves the house, his destination left unspecified. 

Alone and lonely are two very different things, the intricacies of them well defined for you at this point. Chase leaves the following week again and you’re left isolated in your home, your prison. You call and text Leon several times, just wanting someone to talk to, but he doesn’t answer. Finally, you leave a voicemail, in tears, on his phone. “Hey Leon…it’s me again. I just,” you let out a sigh, “I really want to see you. I know what happened was…not supposed to happen…but…” you swallow a sob, “I just…you’re my best friend,” you sniffle, “and I really need my best friend right now…please…at least call me…or come over…anything…please.”

To your surprise, you hear your doorbell ring a couple hours later. Hope fills you once more and you answer the door. Seeing Leon’s face on the other side is like a balm for your ailing spirit. Without thinking, you draw him into a warm, welcoming embrace. Your heart finally feels bright again. He tentatively returns your embrace. He missed you too, but there’s a hesitancy in his movement. 

“Leon…I-” you begin but he jumps in.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out. He steps back from your embrace to gaze into your eyes. He looks just as lost and guilty as you feel. 

“No, I’m sorry,” you reply, your insides stinging with disappointment in yourself. 

“I shouldn’t have…kissed you,” Leon adds with a blush. He looks away, too ashamed of himself to look at you anymore.

You grab his hand, trying to convey your reassurance. “Leon…we’re both at fault here…” you lead him to the kitchen where you both sit across from each other. With a deep sigh, you confess, “My marriage is…not good.” Tears start falling from your eyes. You turn your gaze to the table, as if that will somehow prevent Leon from seeing your distress. “Chase is never around…he barely touches me when he is…and I just…I feel so lonely.”

Leon’s hand twitches, the desire to reach out and hold yours nearly uncontrollable, but he keeps it frozen in place. He wants to be there for you, but he doesn’t want to cross that line again or even worse, cross another…

“Can we just…” you wipe your tears away, “go back to hanging out and doing random stuff around the house and laughing like idiots all the time?” Your eyes finally climb back to meet his gaze and look at him with hope of returning to how things once were. 

Leon’s pained expression slowly melts into a soft, sympathetic smile. “Of course.”

You grin happily. “Thank you! I missed you so much!” You pull him into your arms again, even though that’s a slightly dangerous move. You blush slightly and withdraw just as quickly, knowing Leon will want to set some boundaries. “Sorry…”

Leon smiles placidly. “It’s okay. You’ve been through a lot. I don’t mind…just…no more kissing, okay?” he asserted with a slightly humorous edge, trying to keep the mood light. 

You let out a light chuckle in reply. “Deal.” You wipe away the last of your tears and start cooking lunch together. It takes a bit of time, though not as long as you might have thought, to slip back into your routine. Before too long, you're eating lunch together, talking, and crying, this time from laughter. 

Another week goes by, every day spent with Leon, and the day before you expect Chase to return, he calls. “Hi, sweetie,” Chase begins. You hear a great deal of noise in the background, lots of music and voices. “I’m hitting another conference and I’ll be gone another week. Think you could bring my BMW in to get the oil changed?”

It barely even registers with you anymore when Chase says he’ll be away for longer. “Sure,” you answer. “See you next week.” You don’t bother adding ‘I love you’. You’re no longer certain it’s even true. Plus, it's not like he ever says it to you .

Leon glances over at you inquisitively. “What was that about?”

“Chase wants me to bring the BMW in to get the oil changed,” you reply with a shrug. “Guess I can bring it in tomorrow.”

Leon lets out a dismissing “Psh,” and waves his hand. “I can do it. I’ve got ramps in my truck.” He jumps up from the chair and heads to the front door. You smile and shake your head. He’s always willing to help. 

You quickly slip on a pair of shoes and trot outside to help move the ramps. He grins widely at you, eager to embark on another home improvement-esque project. You help position the ramps properly and then guide Leon as he drives the vehicle up onto them. You stick around while he begins working, watching his T-shirt ride up while he lays on the ground under the car. His delicious looking abs peek out just begging to be licked…

You shake your head. “Need me to grab you any tools or anything, Leon?” you ask, trying to get yourself back to a platonic mindset. 

“Uh, sure.” He describes a few tools around the garage he needs and you carefully search them out and deliver them. 

Whether it's a slip of his hand or a flaw in the car, you're not sure, but you hear Leon groan and curse. 

“Leon!? Are you okay?” You ask worriedly. You drop to the ground to look under the car. 

“Ugh…yeah…just spilled oil all over myself.” Leon’s voice is a mixture of annoyance and disgust. 

“Oh! We need to clean that off! That's hard on your skin!” You tug his foot, coaxing him out from underneath the faucet of motor oil. He emerges from underneath the mischievous BMW and you see motor oil has spilled all over his shirt, arms, and neck. Worried about the potential corrosive effects, you take his hand, smearing some of the offending substance onto your own skin, and lead him to the shower. You quickly help him out of his clothes. Leon blushes, acutely aware of his nudity in front of you, but he’s grateful that you seem to somehow not notice, genuinely concerned for his well being. Your eyes are fixated on starting the shower, shoving Leon under the cleansing water, and washing his naked body. 

“Y-you don’t have to…” Leon awkwardly sputters, his blushing reaching from his cheeks down his neck. 

“We need to make sure we get all of it! Two sets of eyes are better than one!” you argue. You ignore his stuttering protests, worried sick about the negative effect such a toxic substance could have on his health. You couldn't stand it if something happened to him! With gentle thoroughness, you lather him up with soap and scrub carefully, getting every inch, every nook and cranny. When you make your way down to his hips, his dick catches your eye. 

Fuck.

It's big. Bigger than Chase’s…by a lot…you blush and gulp. You force your eyes away from the tantalizing appendage and return your lusty gaze to his face. “Um…I'll let you clean…down there.” You hand him the washcloth with a shaky hand as the deep red hue staining your cheeks spreads like an aggressive rash throughout your body. You turn, facing away from the creature that appears to have been sculpted by the gods. In your haste to rid his skin of toxic chemicals, you hadn’t noticed his ripped physique. His thick shoulders were barely contained in his T-shirt before you ripped it off. His biceps were now fully visible and rippled with each flex. His taut abdomen built up his core like carefully laid bricks. Oh how you’d love to run your hands along it, despite the notion that you could cut yourself on abs so sharp and tight. Tingles bubble through you as you recall the recent memory of his long, thick cock. Your legs tremble, imagining Leon’s tender touch all over your delicate skin, his warmth seeping into every nook and cranny of your form. Your mind conjures an image of his fat dick sliding inside you, consequences be damned. Your heart gives in, your mind yields. Casting off the obligation you willingly accepted when you got married, you let your carnal desires flood the forefront of your consciousness. You’re no longer fighting to justify the craving, no longer desperately explaining away the lustful thoughts he stirs up within you with a mere glance. Your breaths are ragged and uneven as you allow yourself to be submerged in these feelings that have been tugging at your mind since you met. 

Your outward reactions to your own intimate musings don’t go unnoticed by Leon as he scrubs the last of the motor oil off of his skin. He’s apparently reached his own breaking point as you hear a low growl behind you only a moment before strong arms wrap around your waist, lifting you into the shower with him. 

Your shirt and pants quickly begin absorbing the warm water cascading down on you from the shower. Before you can begin taking them off, Leon’s lips crash into yours. One hand snakes up the back of your neck, tangling his fingers into the hair at the base of your scalp. He tilts your head up to give him better access to your willing mouth. Your lips instinctively part, making it an effortless endeavor for his tongue to devour you. His other hand crawls to the hem of your T-shirt, slipping underneath to glide up to your bra-clad breasts. 

You can feel his hardening cock rising up and pressing against your clothed sex. Slick starts to pool between your legs, in quantities you had neither felt before nor thought possible. An icy hot tingle sizzles through you as your body ignites in a passionate blaze. A choked moan escapes you as his hand wraps around your breast, squeezing tentatively at first, but with more fervor as the moments tick by. He grips your wet shirt and peels it off of you with ease, breaking the kiss only for seconds before your lips collide once more. Pulling the cups of your bra down, he resumes his intimate massage of your plush breasts. He groans, his cock painfully hard. Your body responds in kind, the slightest friction against your swelling cunt driving bolts of delicious pleasure to surge through you. 

Realizing you’ve been stunned by the intensity of the moment, you finally let your own hands explore. You begin slowly running your hands up his thick chest, caressing his pecs and sliding upward to gently circle your thumb on his pulse point. Your kiss deepens, moans and whimpers swirling around in the steamy air. 

Leon reaches down, unbuttoning and unzipping your shorts. Without completely removing them, he uses the newly gained space to sneak his fingers into your underwear and tease your quivering folds. He groans like a starved man as he feels how slick and creamy your forbidden center is with only a few sensual touches. 

Feeling bold, you trail your hand down his body, stopping briefly to appreciate every rock hard muscle before reaching his cock. Leon’s breath hitches in his throat, a raspy growl tightening into a euphoric moan. His hips thrust into your hand, abs quivering as he succumbs to your erotic touch. His fingers still momentarily while exploring your depths, left without instruction from his brain, now almost completely drained of conscious thought by your ministrations on his steel shaft. He loves you; he fucking loves you and he can’t deny what he needs anymore. He knows his son is a bastard and probably nailing some slut in a high class hotel room, tainted with adulterous debauchery. Granted, he’s about to do the same with you, he knows you put everything into being a good wife; you gave it your all, but a human being can only take so much neglect. Leon knows you need him and he’s going to give you everything. 

Turning off the shower, he lifts you into his arms and brings you to your bedroom; your marriage bed. Though clinging to your skin, Leon manages to rid you of the rest of your soaking wet clothes. His soft lips briskly kiss yours before venturing further down, sloppily nibbling at your collar bone and eventually sucking as much of your pliant breast into his mouth as he can. His tongue swirls around your nipple and his teeth softly graze the sensitive bud. His fingers bury themselves in your sopping cunt again, continuing their earlier excursion. 

You feel like you're orbiting the moon right now, between the sensations on your breast and the ones between your legs, you wondered how you never knew intimacy could be this pleasurable. You’ve never felt anything even close to this with your husband. He takes no time to do stuff like this. He rolls on top of you, pumps inside you a few times, then finishes. There’s not much to it. He’s in and out like a doctor who’s on his last appointment for the day and already late for his 4 o’clock tee time. But Leon…he’s giving you sensations you didn’t know existed on this plane. Your body feels like it’s burning in the most delicious fire, blazing through your form and leaving scorching pleasure in its wake. His fingers hit a particular spot on your inner walls that rockets you into the stratosphere. An unrefined, guttural moan cuts through the air, fired from your parted lips as your back bows off the bed. 

Noticing your reaction, Leon amps up his ministrations, stroking your spongy pleasure center with expertise. You’re writhing in the throws of passion and euphoria. Having surrendered to your baser instincts, you arch your back again, letting every moan and whimper fly past your lips, unencumbered because, fuck it, you don’t even care if the neighbors hear. Every rub of his fingers on the sensitive trigger within your vault has you seeing heaven. 

“You're so beautiful,” Leon purrs. He drops his lips to yours again, swallowing your sweet, melodic vocalizations. His pace quickens, his strokes becoming quicker and more intense. The build towards something that can only be described as magical progresses rapidly. Your breaths are rapid and shallow; your heart races, pounding heavily in your chest. Sweat beads all over your body, leaving your skin glistening in the afternoon light. 

His thumb begins rubbing your clit, that sensitive bundle of nerves you hardly knew existed until it swelled as a result of Leon's expert touch, making you feel like a horny teenager. Finally, the fireworks explode, your entire body contracts, cunt squeezing down on the fingers inside you. Pleasure overflows in every cell as your brain floods you with dopamine. An ecstatic cry bubbles from deep within your lungs, surging through your throat and curling around Leon's tongue as it surges through your mouth. 

When the waves of rapture subside, you fall limp on the bed. Your pussy finally releases Leon's fingers and he slowly withdraws them. He brings the delicious essence to his lips, sucking your delectable juices clean off his hand, the act causing your eyes to overflow with lust and your jaw to slip just slightly open. His gaze bores into yours and you know this is only the beginning; the preliminaries. 

He gently crawls on top of you, capturing your lips in another decadent kiss. His tongue reunites with yours, tenderly caressing your oral muscle. He rolls his hips at a lazy pace, teasingly grinding his length against your drenched cunt. Your senses are on fire yet still hungry for more heat. One of his arms holds him up and the other glides softly down your perfect curves. “I need you, sweetheart. I can’t stop myself anymore,” he murmurs between kisses.

“Don’t stop! I want this! Please! Oh God! I need this!” you beg through heavy breaths as your tongue dances with his. Your arms snake around his neck, pulling him closer, desperate to feel your bodies pressed together even tighter. You feel Leon’s hand slide further down your lithe body, his fingertips leaving buzzing tingles behind. He moans your name like a whispered prayer in your ear, brushing his lips against the supple lobe. Your fingers tangle into his sandy blonde hair as a soft whimper slips out. 

Finally, his hand grips his thick, rock hard cock and guides the tip inside you. Your head digs into the pillow beneath; Chase’s pillow. A twisted sense of satisfaction fills you but disappears just as quickly as the exhilaration of Leon’s incredible dick gliding inside you replaces all conscious thought, lubricated by your natural, creamy essence. A long, desperate moan draws out of you, paradise within reach. Your breasts heave against Leon’s chest as gasps overtake your breathing. His lips dance across your face and jaw as he begins to pump at a teasingly slow pace. He nibbles on your neck, gently biting and sucking your creamy skin. Your back instinctively arches into him, each thrust of his cock along your sensitive walls sending bolts of pleasure up through your spine. 

Your heart is racing, pounding in your ears and hammering in your chest. Your cunt begins to quiver, submitting unconditionally to the pistoning shaft grinding against your inner vault. The warm, electric buildup you can feel inside your lower abdomen grows ever stronger until it’s impossibly tight, ready to burst like a rubber band stretched too far. Finally, you reach your peak, your pussy squeezing Leon tight like a greedy sinkhole of lust and sex. A deep gasp sucks in the thick air around you, replenishing the oxygen that’s been dragged from your lungs to fuel your earth shattering orgasm. “Oh God, Leon!” you cry out, your hands gripping his thick biceps as you ride out your climax. Your slick pussy squeezes his cock, a vice grip holding onto his manhood like it never wants to let him go. Your thighs tighten around his waist as euphoria rocks through you. His touch is like a drug and you’re already addicted. 

A low growl rumbles in Leon’s chest, manifesting to a guttural moan the erupts from his lips just as he thrusts inside you one last time to spill his cum deep within your womb. “Fuck…” he pants out with winded breaths. He collapses onto the bed next to you, sweat beading down his forehead. You both lay there recovering from the intensity of your tryst for several moments before Leon rolls to his side and props himself up in his elbow. Smiling affectionately, he leans down and kisses your forehead. “That was amazing…I…I've wanted that for longer than I care to admit…”

You gently cup his face, pulling his face back to yours for a tender kiss. “Leon…” you whimper, letting your voice drift away as your emotions overwhelm you. You're having trouble admitting to even yourself that you wanted him too…for a long time. 

He gleans your meaning anyway and rolls to cover you partially, capturing your lips once more as you both ride the afterglow.

[stxrvel]

i don't wanna live forever (1)

summary: reader couldn't stop having deaths in her life ever since the Supersoldier serum came into her life. no matter how hard she tried to stay sane, it seemed that life didn't want to give her a break. until, one afternoon, she learned that one of her old friends was alive… (you guys know im bad at summaries, but please give this one a chance)

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +4.5k

warnings: angst, major character deaths, canon deaths¿?, bad words, english is not my first language! thoughts of revenge and death, this is like an introductory chapter, so the buckyxreader interaction is low, but it'll get better, i promise!

note: holy fuck guys. i just spent like five hours writing and editing this and i fucking love it. its been a while since ive been this proud of a work, im actually scare the emotion will disappear, but i really want to rejoice in this one. i wanted to write something a little different from my usuals, maybe a little common in the fanfiction world, but i started and i simply could not stop (or maybe just approach this bucky fic from another perspective). so this is the first part and i'll try with all my heart to keep this going because it was fucking insane, at least for me. i really hope you all like this as much as i do! feel free to leave any comment! thanks always for all the support!! see you next time <3

part 2 ; part 3 ; part 4

When you went into the Supersoldier serum project with Steve, you thought you were going to change the world. Of course, at that time when technology was relatively new any invention felt like the beginning of a new era. That's how it was all sold to you and it was how you expected everything to turn out… Until you realized that it was all really a waste of effort and time.

They were just propaganda for war. Not to stop it, to promote it. To motivate it.

You tried, on several occasions, not to think too much about it. You tried to stay out of it as Steve sometimes asked you to, even though even he didn't want to, as Bucky asked you to when you lay on his shoulder to cry in the little time you had free between trips. It was a great burden of guilt and helplessness.

Until you and Steve, with the almost imposed help of Peggy and Howard, rescued Bucky from the evil hands of Johann Schmidt and his nefarious organization, HYDRA, that, unbeknownst to you, would haunt you for a long time to come. It was only after that, after spending several sleepless days on edge thinking about what might be happening to Bucky, that you and Steve were finally able to go out and contribute something. Destroy HYDRA and the Red Skull's plans.

Of course, you realized that not everything could go right when, the one mission you couldn't attend, Bucky didn't return. And then Steve didn't come back either.

“Do you think this will ever end?” you had asked Bucky the day before his last mission.

“Of course it will,” he had answered without hesitation, moonlight illuminating his clear eyes, squeezing your hand as if it was all he wanted to do for the rest of his life. “And after that we can begin to live as it should be.”

But there was no after that, because you never recovered from losing him. From losing them both.

“Are you okay?” Peggy approached, in the middle of the afternoon when the sun was streaming through the stained glass windows of the church, illuminating the spot where Steve's empty coffin had been, because they didn't even find his body. They didn't even think there was any of it left.

You barely moved your head to acknowledge her presence, moving the prayer slip they had recited throughout the mass between your hands. Your eyes were crystallized, in tears that no longer even made the effort to flow, because you had already spent too many days and nights crying. Peggy had been on the other side of the church, sitting next to Howard while the priest spoke, because you had refused to be near them in those moments. You didn't want to be near them.

“As well as one can be,” you slurred, finding that it had been a long time since you'd last used your voice for anything other than cursing and crying disconsolately.

The people had already left, probably an hour or more ago. The empty coffin had already been brought out, all the flower arrangements had been picked up, and the priest was preparing for the evening mass. You knew you had to leave, you knew Peggy and Howard were there waiting for you, but you felt stuck at that moment. You didn't want to leave, you didn't want to get ahead, you didn't want that life if it had to be this cruel.

You heard Peggy's sigh, before she took a seat next to you, a short distance away, averting her gaze to look at Christ on the cross.

You didn't know if you were selfish to be so closed off to your friends at this moments, because they must be grieving as much as you were, but you didn't know how to deal with the future possibilities. Bucky and Steve, great men and soldiers, one even with enhanced abilities, had not been able to make it through the punishment of war. What if Peggy and Howard were the same? What if they too had the cruel fate of dying at the hands of injustice? Could you deal with that? With everyone gone?

Maybe you could open up to them a little more because if not, who else? Turning away from them was not going to ensure their survival in this hate-filled society. Maybe you could protect them, like you couldn't protect Steve and Bucky. Maybe you could make a difference, because you had the chance to.

“You know,” Peggy spoke again, rearranging herself on the bench and crossing her legs, “Steve always knew this was how it would end.”

Her wistful, mournful, fragile voice sent a shiver through your body. Peggy didn't consider herself someone to show herself vulnerable in front of others no matter how close they were, even in those things that hurt her the most, in those things that affected her personally and made her eyes water instantly, she always tended to shut down. And at that moment you didn't dare interrupt her because you knew it would probably be the only time she would talk about Steve in a long time.

“Sometimes we'd talk, between tour trips, and he would tell me that wasn't what he wanted to do, even when he had to convince you otherwise,” her clasped hands would occasionally squeeze between words, blinking rapidly to fight back the tears. “He didn't know if he'd made the right decision.”

You could almost picture him, backstage at the foot of the stairs with that notebook he carried everywhere and wouldn't let go, Peggy at his side nostalgic, as helpless as the others. It reminded you of the times you'd had similar conversations with Bucky, desperate to find a purpose, a way through so much fog.

“The first time I saw him so sure of himself was when he asked us to help them look for Bucky,” she mumbled his name, as if trying not to scare you away by saying it too loudly. “Ever since then it seemed like he'd found that spark…”

“Until Bucky died,” you whispered, the words cutting through the cold and silence, Peggy shifting on the bench contritely.

“He lost something of himself from that day on, it wasn't hard to tell. The next time I heard him so sure after spending days lost, it was on that call from the plane.”

Peggy paused, raising her hand to cover her mouth as her voice faltered. You turned to look at her, wishing you could rip the pain from her soul and leave it in yours. She was trying to contain her emotions, breathing deeply, and in that moment you wondered what life might be like from now on, with the specter of grief following you around, waiting for the next time the dead knocked on your doors, unexpectedly, without allowing you to say goodbye.

“He had told me he wouldn't die in peace until he could get it all over with. And he took it all with him. And I hated him so much for it…” Peggy sobbed, her labored breathing standing out between words. She kept looking straight ahead at the stained glass windows, the expression on her face hard and scowling despite having tears rolling down her cheeks, as if she were trying to blame something for what had happened. Her reproachful eyes fixed on the Christ.

Her wails echoed through the walls of the church, the father on the dais sending them a look of sorrow. He had offered you water, thirty minutes after everyone at Steve's wake had left, when they kept walking, and you stood there.

Another empty casket.

“Ladies,” Howard's voice reached your ears amidst all the physical and emotional numbness. You could barely notice Peggy wiping under her eyes with the pocket square that was surely part of Howard's suit, as she took breaths to get up. “We should go now.”

You heard him walk, his slow, careful steps stopping just behind you. There, on his feet with his chest tight, he rested a hand on your shoulder and gave it a squeeze in support. He knew it was the most you would allow him at a time like this, deciding not to pass up the opportunity to let you know he was there. You sighed, feeling a heaviness take over your body as you stood up.

“Yeah, let's go.”

The next few months passed in a blur. Maybe too fast, maybe too slow, you weren't sure anymore.

Peggy continued to work at the Strategic Science Reserve for a couple of years, calling you from time to time to help her with some jobs. You kept a low profile, practically a fugitive from the state, while trying to live a halfway normal life in Europe. A lot of it thanks to Howard really.

Life had become a rather monotonous routine when you stopped getting so many calls from Peggy and Howard several years later. You knew they were fine, but not being able to return to the country filled you with anguish every day. And trying to lead a normal life became too complicated when you looked in the mirror and it seemed like not a single day had passed since you were in that capsule of Dr. Erskine's with Steve.

Until Peggy called one day asking you to come back. She told you that it was safe, that there would be no state officials waiting for you at the airport, but even if that had been the situation, you wouldn't have hesitated for a second to buy the first plane ticket and fly to see them again. To Howard and Peggy, to melt into an embrace, longing for the lost years.

You had thought that contributing to the fight in World War II had earned you a ticket to at least be recognized in the military, but all you gained was the government with their mad scientists looking for you to try to recreate the Supersoldier serum. Peggy didn't want to risk you and Howard gave you no choice by giving you a plane ticket to Finland with your bags packed.

You wasted many years not being by their side, unable to keep the promise you had made them in your head to be close by to protect them, to watch over their safety.

But when you left the airport there was only Peggy, and maybe that should've told you everything.

Her hair already looked gray, the effects of gravity and time present on her face. You hated to think that you shouldn't have looked any different from the way she saw you last time when she waved you off at that same airport. Her warm gaze was the same, raising her arms with held back tears to encircle you in a big hug. She tried hard not to sob against your shoulder, you felt the choppy movement of her breath against your chest.

She looked so different and the same at the same time.

You walked to her car a moment later, her trying to carry your suitcase and you telling her you were perfectly fine carrying it on your own. Amidst a smile, she walked into the driver's door and you frowned as you saw the empty passenger seat.

“Where's Howard?” you spoke as you sat down, after stowing the huge suitcase in the trunk of the car. The way you moved to buckle up, you didn't notice the way Peggy froze in place, her hands clenching the steering wheel so tightly that her breath hitched from the effort.

“We're going to see him,” was all she said, but she was very good at hiding that something was wrong. Only for a little while.

During the trip, even though you tried to ask things about them, about what they had been doing during this time, you didn't miss the way her shoulders were tense or her eyes very alert. Something bad had happened and Peggy was trying to hide it from you.

When she pulled up in front of a church, you already knew what had happened without her answering a single one of your questions.

Howard had died.

You two had sat next to Howard's son Tony, his spitting image, in complete silence as the prayers went on. At that moment you didn't know what had happened, hoping it had been a quiet and peaceful death, because you didn't know if you would be able to endure another violent death.

Peggy gave you all the details when the mass was over, after the coffin was taken away, and you hadn't felt such fury in so many years. Not since the deaths of Bucky and Steve had that adrenaline rush of anger returned to run through your body as violently as it did at that moment, when Peggy told you that he had been murdered along with his wife. All to steal some prototypes of Dr. Erskine's serum. The damned serums with which everything had started.

This time there was a body in the coffin, but there was also a culprit. Someone to point the finger at and take it out on for years of anguish and pain.

You were at Peggy's house, staying for a few days, when she told you that wasn't all.

Peggy had a suspicion that HYDRA hadn't disappeared when Steve crashed that plane into the ice. Her suspicions generated panic in you, because Bucky and Steve had died for that, now apparently Howard, only for it all to have been for nothing. The feeling of carnage that ran through your whole head made you nauseous, years of helplessness and pain pent up in such a small body had to find its way out somehow.

“It was a man, according to the information I've been able to gather,” Peggy spoke, taking a seat across from you in the dining room of her living room, after pouring you a glass of lemonade. “He didn't die from the crash. He had a concussion. He was hit in the head. His wife died from asphyxiation.”

“Does Tony know?”

“No,” Peggy shook her head quickly, one hand over her heart as if the mere thought caused her physical pain. “It didn't even occur to me to tell him something like that.”

“And he was looking for the serum,” you recalled, a bitter feeling planted in the back of your throat, the memories of the disastrous times during the war coming back into your head like a blinding flash.

“He took them. We don't know who he is or who he works for, but whoever they are, they must have been following us for a long time to know about them.”

“You mean years,” you arched an eyebrow, your fingers touching the cool exterior of the glass seeking some reassurance.

“Possibly. That project isn't recent,” Peggy nodded, drinking her lemonade with a grimace. You stared at the liquid almost finished from her glass, a wrinkle forming between your brows with each passing second and you kept wondering why.

“But what the fuck was going through that asshole's head?” you spat angrily. Rage at already the amount of lives that serum had taken with it and at Howard's recklessness. Rage at the reaper who seemed to be following in their footsteps for some reason, rage at that damn man and whoever his damn boss was.

“It was the only option, Y/N,” Peggy turned her gaze, meeting your eyes with a strange glint.

“What do you mean?” you were almost afraid to ask, your friend's gaze suddenly turning evasive. You watched her run her fingernails over the glass of the tumbler, lost for a moment in thought. The way her shoulders slumped forward in defeat caused a pressure in your chest that made it hard to breathe. Peggy shouldn't be going through these things at this point in life.

“Howard was working with the Pentagon, as a contractor or something. They had found you. Howard felt cornered and they made him sign an agreement.”

With your incredulous look on her face, Peggy didn't dare look back at you for a few seconds. So much had happened since you had left and it seemed that you had only been told about the things you weren't going to care about so much. But if you had known that you wouldn't have cared much about giving some of the state officials their comeuppance. You would've liked Howard to trust you enough to tell you, not live in as much fear behind his back as the last few years must've been. You didn't like the way Peggy's lips curved downward, as if she, too, would've preferred to make another decision had she known this was how it was going to end.

“Howard assured them that he could recreate the serum, and told them he would as long as they left you alone.”

“Fucking asshole…” you closed your eyes, scrubbing your face with your hands. The rough skin of your hands rubbed against the delicate skin of your face, years of combat and mistreatment foreseeing a harshness that reminded you every day of what you'd had to go through to get to that moment.

“I only found out about it after it happened. I didn't see it for like a whole week,” Peggy shook her head slightly, her eyes glistening in the pain of the memories. You shook your head hard, a more violent reaction than you could have anticipated.

“That stupid… stupid asshole! What the fuck made him think I couldn't defend myself?”

“He was trying to do the right thing,” Peggy finally searched your eyes, meeting the red rims that told her you were holding back too hard breaking in front of her, only using that pain mixed with rage to keep you sane.

“And look how that turned out!”

Peggy stretched her hand across the table, with a pleading look asking you to lower your voice, averting her gaze to the hallway. You followed her gaze, for a second forgetting where you were, forgetting that her family was with you behind the doors where you were plunged into darkness. It was past midnight.

You took a second to calm yourself, trying to drown out the uncontrolled emotions and taking deep breaths to calm your fluttering heart.

“And if what you theorize is true…” you regretted the moment those words left your mouth; you didn't even want to finish the sentence.

“Do you think it is?”

“I don't want to,” you shook your head instantly, closing your eyes, the thought sounding illogical inside your head. Your hands on your chest trying to contain the storm of feelings that was making chaos inside your head. “That would mean that everything we did, everything Bucky, Steve and Howard did and sacrificed, was in vain. It will all have been in vain.”

You spent several weeks with that thought in your head, working hand in hand with Peggy, and the organization you barely knew as SHIELD, to track down the whereabouts of the killer of Tony's parents and the one responsible because the Supersoldier's serums were, surely, in the wrong hands.

And yes, it was many years of fruitless missions and dead ends, with you running every field mission and Peggy calling the shots from the New York facility. Every time you felt close to discovering something, it seemed that the enemy rejoiced in your failures and still couldn't understand how they were always three steps ahead.

However, you had to leave the missions when Peggy became ill.

The silent, lethal Alzheimer's.

During the first months in the hospital, she still recognized you. She also recognized her husband and children. But after the first year, she frowned every time her children walked through the door. After a year and a half, her husband had to remind her that they had been married for about forty years.

After two years, she was still only remembering you, Howard, Steve and Bucky. Her whole life during her time in the army was all you talked about, sometimes you would tell her how much more time had passed than she remembered and always, without fail, she would ask you how much you had done in Europe for so long by yourself.

She cried every time she remembered Howard's death. She cried every time she remembered her children. Out of her mouth came a thousand apologies that no one would accept, because there was nothing anyone could do to prevent what had to happen. You wished she had been a serum test subject instead of you.

For several years, missions to find Tony's parents killer were sporadic because you spent more time around Peggy than at the SHIELD facility. She was the only thing you had left of everything you'd ever had, of when you held the world in your hands. She was the last thing keeping you tethered to that reality, keeping madness from flooding your reason. How could you have so many years ahead of you when that was all you had to live for? A life full of the dead, full of pain and suffering. What kind of karma were you paying for?

You were leaving the SHIELD facility, after another failed mission, when Nick Fury stopped you in front of the exit. You almost rolled your eyes right under his watchful gaze, tired of having to meet him anywhere, and exhausted from his comments about this vengeance project or whatever he wanted you to be a part of.

You still didn't know how, being such an exemplary agent, Coulson had fallen into his nets.

“Miss L/N,” the man stopped you with his words, his hands behind his back and a tense stance that caught your attention.

“Fury,” you nodded in his direction, hoping he'd be quick because you were running late for your weekly visit with Peggy. “Do you need anything?”

“I'd like you to come with me somewhere,” Fury approached tentatively, his one eye fixed on your wary expression, which shifted to boredom the moment you thought you knew what he wanted.

“If this is about that project, I've told you a thousand times-”

“No,” he interrupted you, moving forward and removing his hands from behind his back. “It's not related to that. I really want you to come with me.”

“You look agitated, but I need-”

“I'll take you to see Peggy myself after this.”

You didn't like that he knew your routine, even though you weren't doing enough to hide it from the other agents. But Fury looked nervous, even though he was hiding it very well, trying to keep his cool as he looked for ways to convince you.

You figured it wouldn't be a big deal for you to go off the deep end for once. After all, Peggy never remembered you were going to see her.

You set off in Fury's armored vans, not quite sure where you were going, but sure that it was urgent, because he had taken it upon himself to let his driver know that you had to get there as soon as possible.

You took that time on the trip to come up with a new strategy for the next mission because what you were doing up to that point wasn't working and you felt too close to throwing in the towel, figuratively speaking. You could spend years following a ghost, but you wouldn't give up on finding Howard and Maria's killer.

Before the car pulled up to one of SHIELD's secret sections, they passed the giant, imposing Stark Tower. You never saw Tony again after that time at his parents' funeral, not even during his visits to Peggy because you always made it a point not to cross him. You didn't think you'd be able to look him in the eye while you knew his parents had been killed without being able to tell him. You had promised Peggy in her lucid moments that you wouldn't tell him anything until you could find the culprit. You didn't want to initiate that pain if it had to be kept repressed, as yours once was, and probably still is. You had learned, some time after the funeral, that he was living with Edwin Jarvis, and you were glad to know that he would have good companionship to keep him company in such hard times.

Fury, a handful of agents and you entered the vans through the entrance to what appeared to be the parking lot of an old warehouse. Upon entering, the first thing you noticed was the number of armed agents that seemed to be guarding the place, not at all discreet to how SHIELD used to do things. You weren't sure if Peggy would authorize something like that, but you couldn't question the Director's decisions. It wasn't your place.

“What's going on here?” you frowned, watching as every meter there was another agent and another agent. You got out of the car without waiting for an answer from Fury, moving directly toward the entrance where most of the agents were concentrated. You barely noticed their looks in contradiction, running their eyes over you and then over the man trying to catch up to you, dubious as to whether or not they should move. “Move.”

“Wait,” Fury's voice stopped the command in the agents, who turned back to look at you as you sent Fury a confused look.

“What's all this mystery, Nicholas?” the man startled almost discreetly at your tone of voice, the agents stirring uncomfortably, but kept the serene expression that was getting on your nerves. “What the fuck did you do?”

“We got a call from the Arctic.”

“From the Arctic?”

You tried to ignore the way the hairs on your neck instantly stood up, your body alerting you to something your mind still couldn't comprehend. You felt like a deer face to face with a predator, expecting the worst.

“The Colonel informed us of something that might interest us,” Fury's cryptic voice echoed in your ears, drowning out the flicker of uncertainty vibrating from your head to your toes. “They found a plane.”

You didn't even answer him. Your heart began to pound wildly, cornered, ready to have your head bitten off. The tension in your shoulders intensified, with the involuntary movement of your hands as you broke into a cold sweat. The mere implication of his words caused an emptiness in your stomach, a sense of longing and fear you hadn't felt before.

You looked at Fury, trying to find in his gaze the gleam of a lie, but there was nothing there but assurance. There was nothing but recognition and understanding in his gaze, but that didn't make the emptiness in your stomach and the tight chest go away. It didn't make the feeling of being outside your body go away.

You barely remembered to move in the direction of the door, the agents instantly moving out of your way, pushing it so hard that one of them flew out. You moved your eyes around every corner of the room, the cream-colored walls generating a great repulsion in you. And there, in the midst of all the confusion and the storm, a confused and disgruntled face looked back at you. A face you never thought you would see again.

Steve Rogers was standing a few feet away from you, barely comprehending what was happening around him and instantly recognizing you. Your chest compressed once again, the tears you held back for so many years even in your loneliness making their own way into your eyes, endangering to end that mask you wore everywhere you went.

Steve was actually there, looking back at you with his eyes shining in recognition. You didn't know if he was as surprised as you were to react or you looked so bad that he didn't know if he should approach you or not. You just knew it was him, it really was him right there in front of you. He wasn't dead. Steve wasn't dead. He was alive. Ah, he was so alive.

The broken sob that suddenly left you was loud enough to make your friend shed his stupefaction and stride over to where you were. You barely managed to cover your face, between sobs, wails and disbelief, feeling your knees give out, surrendering to the weight of the pain, when his strong arms grabbed your shoulders before you hit the floor. Preventing your fall, as you had wished so many times before.

You cried against his shoulder, when feeling him against your body you knew there was no doubt it was true. You moved your hands away from your face, wrapping them around his waist as tightly and lovingly as you hadn't hugged anyone in so long. Surely the last time you hugged someone like that was when you saw Peggy on your way back from Europe.

Steve wasn't far behind, his arms around your shoulders just as tightly, his chin against the crown of your head, moving from side to side trying to hold back the loud sobs that shook your body.

You couldn't believe it, but it was true, he was right in front of you.

Steve was alive. He had come back to your side. You didn't even want to ask why.

And there was nothing else you could think about for the rest of your life.

[secret-smut-sideblog]

Prayer Factory

Gale x F! Tav (named)

18+ religous trauma, confrontation, disassociation, implied violation, trauma responses, panic, dry heaving, roughness, dom/sub, total control, light humiliation, semi public sex, choking, handjob, face sitting, oral (f!), masturbation (m!)

Aurum steels herself to face her old demons at the temple, with her love at her side. But the adrenaline of confrontation leaves her coiled, and a wizard very eager to take her wrath...

Masterlist

-

"You can do this."

Aurum stared up at the temple, its faceted golden light cascading her in angelic reprieve.

"You know, I wish it was ugly." She squeezed his fingers tightly. "Bloody and decrepit. Somewhere this painful shouldn't look like this."

He agreed, of all of their confronting of demons, this was far too beautiful. Somehow, more sinister in its resplendence.

"I'm right here with you, and I will burn this place down at your command. They've rebuilt once before, they can do it again."

She smiled at him, pulling his nape to bring him into a dizzying kiss. The soft sounds of happy parishioners and the hush of swaying flowers an idyllic backdrop.

Her voice started to slide together. It was always melodic, but now folded into a half song.

"When we get inside..." She hushed against his lips. "Don't leave my side."

"Of course, I'm wi-"

"Gale." Her tone pausing him. "Listen to me. Stay with me."

"I won't leave you." He promised, already tightening his body for a fight.

Aurum took one deep inhale, then, before she could release it, pulled them inside. Spires of the Morning swallowing them entirely.

He thought she would pull up her hood and conceal herself in her instinctual protection. But she threw her cloak down, striding up to the altar in her flowing robe. Baring herself.

The clergy turned and ran to her in shock. Voices raised in alarm, calling for regalia and covers and holy items. Descending on her as devout wolves.

Aurum stood stock still, simultaneously tight and limp to their pulling. Face composed in grace, but eyes glazed over. No longer in her body.

Watching them touch her made his stomach turn. Each piece of regalia they so lovingly slipped onto her felt like they were stripping her naked in front of him. Ripping away pieces of her autonomy one garment at a time.

He wanted to make them stop, but there were too many to pull off of her. Fingers already entangled into her hair, pulling it out of its clip to braid down her back. Bands of fabric tied around her shoulders and across her waist. Headdress affixed to her brow, a molded blindfold taking her eyes away. Every piece tailored to fit her body. To bind her to them.

He felt waves of nausea as she disappeared from him in real time. A priest tried to shoo him away, so blinded by fervor that he couldn't even recognize that they came in together. Or maybe it didn't matter. She was their holy idol, finally returned. Her outside ties were irrelevant.

"I'm her entrusted, her priest. I must stay with her." He urged.

"Oh! Thank you for returning her to us, brother."

"We cannot stay. Her light is drawn elsewhere."

The priest peered at him, confused. A small clench in his jaw.

"But she must stay. You understand, we have been without her guidance for too long. She is a direct conduit."

He truly felt like he was going to harm this man, a rage that rose like a fever up his spine. Speaking through slow and even breaths.

"It is not in our dieties nature to keep light contained. Come now, she has graced your temple again, rejoice in that. Her light must be spread beyond these walls."

The man seemed uncertain, about to retort, when Gale drew forward. Disregarding him to take her hands.

"Such resplendent light must be shone."

Many of the clergy nodded, faces slack in their blind devotion. The priest fell away, his protest lost.

It made him recoil to see their faces. He had never been on the other side. To see the way they looked at her... is this how he looked at his god? At her, on that beach so long ago?

He understood now why she had kept him at a distance for so long.

He twisted his fingers into hers.

I'm sorry.

Her fingers trembled but did not respond. Their shake the only tell in her mask of grace. The slightest flinch as one of the devout pulled away her chest binding. Her light spilling out.

They all gathered around, chattering prayers and joyful exclamation. Pushing their palms onto her chest, clammy and grotesque in their excitement.

He realized what she meant now, when she had urged him at the door.

"Don't leave my side. Stay with me."

Don't let them take me.

He stepped between the hands, presenting his body as a shield. His chest pressed to hers. Feeling the heat of her sunlight. Her eyes blinded to him, but feeling her gaze regardless.

"What is the meaning of this gathering?"

A tall man stepped down from a staircase above them. Staring down with clear authority.

"High Mornmaster! She's returned!" A priest called out. Presenting her as one does a prized relic.

"And you thought it best to adorn her out here in the open?"

"Oh! I..."

"She was bare when she arrived! We had to dress her!"

"Silence, brother."

The priests hung their heads obediently.

"Are you her charge, stranger?" He turned to Gale, eyeing him down his nose.

"I am. She is in my care, body and soul."

"A most holy duty. I commend thee."

It made bile rise to his throat to realize how they spoke around her.

"She has done well to stay her silence. We shall speak at a more private altar. Come."

Gale pantomimed leading her, but it was her step that drew them forward. How long had she spent blinded to know this place in the dark?

He spoke low in her ear as they walked, following the shadow of the high priest.

"You're doing so well. I love you, I'm right here with you. We're going to go home soon, okay?"

She nodded, taking a shuddering breath. The grip on his fingers loosened slightly. Taking up his own squeeze.

It frightened him that she hadn't spoken, but he knew how confronting places like this could unravel. All of the progress you've made pulled out of you in wrenching handfuls. A cruel magic trick.

But he would not allow them the chance to take advantage of her temporarily shattered sense of self. She was not alone. And they would die by his hand before they could take her.

"What fortuitous luck we have been graced with. Our divine light returned to us." The High Morninglord swept behind his desk, sitting back to level his gaze appreciatively at her.

"Though, I have heard whispers of a girl with a holy light in her chest, running the Cliff's Run, of all things." He laughed as if this was the most absurd notion. "The thought, our Resplendent running naked in the streets."

Gale's stomach clenched in disgust. Recognizing the tactics. Setting up a shameful question to put your obstinate charge on the back foot. To make them trip over themselves to prove you wrong.

But she didn't take the bait. Sitting straight, her hands folded gently in her lap. Her face impassive under the half mask.

"It has been far too long since your voice has hallowed these halls. Shall we have your confession, Risen Sun."

It wasn't a question.

A low laugh slipped her at his audacity. Calling her by her true title.

"Confession..." Aurum let out a slow breath, though she made no move to bend her head in prayer. "Maybe it will help."

"Yes, confession is a balm on the soul."

"Should I address Lathander or our Father?"

He paused, clearly taken aback by her brevity. Addressing the cult outright. Gathering his nerve again.

"Whoever speaks to you."

She smiled with a sharp edge.

"Then I'll speak to you."

"I remember what faith felt like. Filling a hollow in me. Ecstatic. Bright. Lifting me above my body. Gods, it makes me shiver to even think of it now."

Her voice was a soft coo of a dove. All the fullness, the lived in, pulled away. Reminding him of how she spoke so long ago. How one speaks to a lamb led to the knife.

"It fulfilled me, and why wouldn't it? It was my purpose. My whole existence had been planned with the sole purpose of channeling the divine. Or, at least, that's what I was told. 'You've been touched by the Gods.' My father would whisper. Leading me in my first steps to the altar. It was all deliberate, my breeding, my upbringing. My young mother dying during childbirth a blip on my history. An obituary not even written. Just a name and a date."

"But I think my genuine channeling was a convenience for my father, at least at first. It's easier to convince the blind masses when your child truly did speak through your god. But there lies the problem."

She leaned forward, boring her concealed gaze into him. Her voice carried on in its haunting song.

"His god spoke to me. Through me. He had thought he had channeled Him, but seeing how He flowed from me like water. I was His true voice. That filled his belly with rot. Envy. And a madman with a pit of rot in his belly... well. You surely remember what happened next?"

The priest's breath held, fear darting his eyes from her.

"Oh, come now. You weren't scared when you held me down. Don't lose your nerve now."

"No, you remember quite well. A little girl named Rosa'sune, with soft adolescent love for another girl and blind faith in her heart, was destroyed on that slab that night. And no amount of her screaming loosened your grip. It was a call from your god, and you sang to it joyously."

"That wasn't what broke my faith. Not the pain, not the shard of sun, not the carving of the tattoo across my face. I had endured wrath before. No, it was that you did it to her too."

"See, I could have believed it was a show of my worth, to be Chosen. Of course, a blessing this great must take a great deal to endure. But Amaris was not part of our sect. She didn't even worship the same god. Yet you carved her, just the same as me. You marked her identical. Now, why would that be?"

"I can hear from the shake of your breath that you have enough sense to be afraid of me. Good. You should be. My father was too, but not until it was far too late. He filled me with such terrible power. And, like all unfit parents, had never fathomed that I could defy him. That I was more than an extension of his will. In forcing that light in me had made his most fatal mistake."

She rose to lean on the desk, palms flat against the wood. Still speaking a soft lullaby.

"He had made me a weapon. His daughter, singing hymns and touching bowed heads with eyes blinded, was now a scythe shaped like a girl. In his hubris, he had made me far more powerful than him, and it was too late to turn back. So he made a failsafe. If I refused him or his god, I would burn."

"Aurum... I had no-"

"Silence. I am not here to soothe your bleating."

She reached forward and tenderly cupped his face.

"Do you remember? How our clergy sung my new holiness? Oh, how beautiful, how lucky, to be Chosen. How wonderful to have a true conduit. Without a single thought of the weight of a sun in her chest. No thought to how strange that her voice was returned to her, yet her breath came so shallow."

She reached up and pulled the blindfold away. Staring deep in his eyes.

"It was my father's will, but your faithful did this to me. I could not hide from His light, and you do not get to hide from what you've done."

Fear shaken tears edged out of his eyes, staring up at her. Mouth fallen open in silent pleading.

She brushed a tear away with her thumb, then reached inside her mouth. Wetting her opposite thumb, she circled a sun into the crest of his forehead. The trail lighting. Holy water.

"I shall let all who dwell in dark feel your holy dawn."

The priest responded almost involuntarily.

"Morninglord, hear my prayer."

She smiled a sad, knowing smile, then pulled away.

"Let's go. We're done here."

Gale rose and took her hand, though she needed no guidance. Leading him out.

As they walked, her pace picked up. Grace falling away as distance covered. Breaking into a frantic stride. Pulling away the regalia that weighed down her body.

They burst out of a hidden side door, a small alley tucked away by the sea. Aurum leaned against the brick, dry heaving.

Gale rushed forward, about to cradle her. But she shoved him away. Surprise taking up both of their faces.

He staggered back, but didn't retreat. Seeing something in her eyes.

She rose up to her full height and shoved him again. His back pushed into brick.

His breath left in a huff, a new kind of lust risen in his belly. Seeing it mirrored in her eyes. She always had a dominant streak, but this felt different. Less teasing, no toying or riling in her stare.

Her hand came to his throat, pressing her body into his. Staring deep in his eyes. Her fingers tightened. Studying him like a tiger hidden in thicket.

The thought of being her prey made his cock throb, breathing hard through her fingers.

She reached inside his robe and cupped him. Eliciting a gasp. Holding him by the throat and by the cock. His life and his manhood in the palm of her hands. Already leaking precum over her fingers. His body begging.

She gathered the slick and tightened her grip, wrenching pleasure from him in tight strokes.

He arched into the wall, eyes rising into lids. Hand gripping her forearm.

She knocked his hand back. Exhaling a fast breath, nearly a growl. Caging him back.

He braced his hands against the wall, the cool brick flat against his palms. His hips fucking up into her. The hand on his throat flexing.

This was a tucked away alley, but they were still in the city. Anyone could wander down the street and see them. See him. The thought that she might not stop in that situation made his belly tighten dangerously. Orgasm threatening shockingly soon.

She felt the throb, his cock hard as stone. Only smiling, her mouth hovering just far enough away to deny him of her. Playing with her food, watching him squirm with a tilt of her head.

That she wasn't speaking made it feel so much more salacious. Breathing hard into the space between them. Eyes wide blown with lust. The lewd sound of her hand and heavy breathing the only sounds exchanged.

The end was soon, he was past the point of no return. Hips fucking into her outside of his control. Biting into his lip, whimpers lost under her grip on his throat. Her total control over him making his pleasure feel primal. Shameful out in the open. About to cum, whether he liked it or not.

She turned his head with her thumb, seeing the tells of his body. Pushing a moan of breath against his ear. Licking a flat line up the curve.

He came in shuddering waves, hands digging into the sharp brick. Hips stuttering as the pleasure coiled in his belly struck him over and over. Out on display for the world to see. Splattering the ground.

She pushed him down by the throat. Forcing him to a sitting kneel, staring up at her. She pulled her robe aside and straddled over his upturned face. Long legs caging him. Taking the crown of his hair into her fist. Grinding her cunt into his mouth.

He gripped both hands into her ass and pulled her into him. Slurping her hard clit into his cupped tongue.

She shuddered above him, fully straddling over his face. Bracing her forearm against the brick wall. Hips pulsing into his fervent licking. Sloppy in his enthusiasm, staring up at her through lidded eyes. Fucked out, moaning into her cunt.

Her using him like this hardened his cock again, reaching between his legs to stroke himself in time to the grind of her hips.

"Good boy." She sighed when he sucked her clit into his mouth. Sending his eyes up into his head. About to cum again.

He released his cock to pull her hard into him, burying his face fully between her legs. Digging his fingertips into the fat of her ass. Slurping and sucking with animal fervor.

She buckled above him, curling her head forward. Shuddering out choked cries. Her hips tremoring from deep in her pelvis.

He slapped her ass, bending her hips to fully latch on to her clit. Wrenching his head from side to side, pulling popping sucks with the hollow of his tongue.

She bit into her forearm above him, her eyes squeezing shut tight. Muffling shrieks into her flesh. Hips shuddering so hard he thought they might give out. Bracing his forearms under her thighs, hands holding her ass up.

Her eyes fully rolled up into her head as she came. Falling forward, scraping her knees against the wall. Shuddering in pulses against his mouth. Her cum flooding into his mouth, lapping it eagerly down his throat. Moaning around swallows. His hand returning to his cock to quickly cum the last of his pleasure.

She fell down into his lap, legs straddled around his thighs. Shaking out breath into his shoulder.

He wound tightly around her, hushing into her ear. Stroking the braids out of her hair. Returning her to him, one caress at a time.

She grasped tightly around him.

"I love you." She moaned, throat raw from pleasure and swelling tears. "I want to go home."

He buried into her shoulder, his own tears threatening.

"I love you so much. Let's go home."

~

[loveanddeepspice]

𝕋𝕖𝕞𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝔾𝕣𝕒𝕔𝕖

✞ synopsis:  you've come back to the small town you grew up in for a visit. though your relationship with the catholic church and faith in general have been strained since you were younger, you find yourself drawn back to the church... or more specifically... the new priest... you aren't ready to share your secret sin with him... but you may not be able to help yourself.

✞ pairing: sylus x curvy fem!reader

✞ rating:  18+ (minors do not engage)

✞ cw:  religion (catholicism), priest, lapsed faith, adultery, priest kink, suicidal mention, dead parent, sex, masturbation, drugs (marijuana), mentions of other drug use, drinking (more will be added when/if they arise)

✞ disclaimer: this fiction explores a romantic relationship between a lapsed Catholic and an unconventional priest. it is not designed to be inflammatory or critical. catholic authors were asked to participate in the process. we hope you enjoy it, but we know that these topics can be sensitive, so please skip this fiction if it will in any way offend you.

✞ chapter:  7 / ?

✞ co-authors:  redbriony, confuseddoughnut (they do not have tumblr)

✞ ao3 link:  here

✞ chapter synopsis: things have just heated up, but the weather is getting colder. the early winter breeze brings in someone you really would prefer not to see.

✞ index: chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4 | chapter 5| chapter 6 | chapter 7

Please comment on this post if you want to be added to the tag list for updates!

Corinthians 13:4-7: "Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres."

The act had cracked open his heart or perhaps created more tender spots. 

Father Sylus generally perceived his life rationally, involving humility over pride. 

She had finally let him lay his hands on her, and maybe that was the most selfish thought he had ever had - thinking that she was made for him. After everything played out, her nervous glances and the embarrassment she showed. And yet, with the first real touch they could have, she dove into it with less hesitation, allowing for the most physical of interactions. The way the desire ignited in her gaze, like her body knew exactly what she wanted. It had consumed him, and he had given in right there, held at her mercy. This was something real that had taken place. 

Something almost sacred. 

It took the word ‘faith’ and made it physical and tangible. What was faith, really, but trusting in something greater than yourself and so much deeper than just being optimistic? 

For the first time, he realized there may be more meaning for him in the world, something beyond faith and what he had set in motion for himself. There was a shift in his path, and it would end in…well, he wasn’t entirely sure. The promise he had made to God was what brought him to this town in the first place. The first pangs of lust rose unintentionally and unwantedly. It was the feelings he didn’t expect. When she came to him - so nervous, so desperate, and the offer was laid bare, the absolute rawest version of her standing before him… 

Whether it was part of the Lord's plan or not, the outcome truly mattered. The details and circumstances were insignificant in comparison, and that was perhaps the most perplexing aspect of the entire experience.

“Father, are you listening?” Talia’s words interrupted his thoughts. 

Father Sylus blinked and raised his gaze, locking eyes with the woman sitting across from him in the small diner. Her intense blue eyes were firm and kind as she tightly held a cup of coffee. "I apologize, Talia. Could you repeat the question?"

“Something’s got you distracted.” She said, studying him. Her eyes squinted, leaving him to wonder exactly how perceptive she was.

To say she was perceptive would be an understatement; she was downright nosy.

“Don’t get me wrong, I like the quiet, but usually you pay better attention. Everything okay? Are you getting another migraine? Need more Tylenol? Here, I have some right in here.” Her hand searched for the bottle in her bag resting on the seat beside her. 

Father Sylus coughed out a sharp, breathy laugh, shaking his head. “No, no, that’s fine. I’m alright, honestly. Just a bit tired today, I guess.” 

It wasn’t completely a lie. It had been two days since he’d seen Y/N, and she’d been filling every moment of unoccupied thought with the memory of her scent, the sight of her. She hadn’t appeared after that evening, which was fine. Perhaps she was making time for her feelings, and it wouldn’t have been right for him to question her on it.

“Rafayel. I was talking about Rafayel.” 

At that, he straightened, pressing his palms to the cool laminate table top. “Yes, absolutely. Go ahead.” 

Of course. When was the woman not talking about her nephew, who had been giving her hell by simply existing in a world that wasn’t made for him?

Despite listening to her for months, he held back from saying what he really wanted to tell her: "What if the path you're urging him to take isn't actually what's best for him?" He couldn't help but think that someone as devoted as Talia should know not to force their religion onto others. The words were sitting on his tongue, but the need to come out and say it wasn’t there. He had no intention of being unkind or causing any unnecessary pain, especially to an older woman who was only doing her best.

Father Sylus parted his lips, “He’ll figure it out eventually. Just give him some room.” 

But the woman shook her head, sighing deeply. “Well, the last time we gave him “room, “he ran off to Europe and—” her mouth pressed into a thin line, deep in thought and deliberation. She obviously held some amount of disappointment or perhaps empathy about her nephew's situation. Somehow, at that moment, Father Sylus imagined the poor woman feared the worst.

“At least Y/N knows what she wants out of life, right?” Talia asked. “Still young, but a good head on her shoulders. Rafayel should be more like her, dontcha think?” 

The corners of his mouth curved up, unable to help it. Y/N was rather amazing , wasn’t she? He took a sip of coffee and said nothing. 

“Something funny?” Talia leaned forward.

He made a non-committal motion with his hand. “Just…how aware you seem to be of my parishioners' lives.” 

“Yeah,” the woman chuckled, brushing her hair over her shoulder. “Well, you know as well as anyone, or perhaps better, that nothing is a secret around this town. Besides, Y/N is one of the sweetest girls around; everyone’s always going on about her.” 

“Why do you say that?” He needed more input. As much information as he could get, his pulse spiked in anticipation. It was like being thirteen and asking a neighbor about the girl down the street. 

Talia frowned. “Aren’t you familiar with her?” His expression must’ve given him away as her eyes brightened, and she laughed. “You really aren’t much on the gossip.” 

Again, he had no retort. She wasn’t exactly wrong. 

“She’s just a lovely person,” Talia concluded. “Always generous, though stubborn as an ox sometimes. Headstrong. But a good, gentle girl. Devout? Well, not really. But generous and kind.” 

Just another affirmation.

“Anyway,” she shook her head, smiling as she checked her watch. “I actually should run, I forgot I’m having company over.” She adjusted in the plastic chair, putting the bottle of Tylenol back in the bag and hoisting it over her shoulder. 

“You know, Father, you should really see about getting the boiler in the church fixed before it gets colder out. Something is wrong with that thing, It never gets fully warm .” 

Father Sylus gave her a gentle smile as he stood, waving her off. “Bless you, Talia.” 

“Do you think a blessing makes my prediction not true? Just because I was cursed with a smart mouth doesn’t mean your holy presence can stop it.” 

He laughed again, a sound that felt too loud. Talia crossed her arms in return, gesturing with her chin out of the window they had been sitting next to. “You know,” she told him, “Xavier is pretty good at that. Fixing things.”

With furrowed brows, the priest looked out the window at the hardware across the street - the one Y/N now stepped out of. He squinted, feeling lightheaded at the sudden jolt of his heart. Immediately, images of her beneath him resurfaced. The feeling of her skin on his, the overwhelming surge of bliss, as vivid as a splash of sunlight. 

She was removing one of the signs from the door, replacing it with a new one, most likely advertising a sale. 

“That is a good idea,” Father Sylus murmured, words tumbling from his mouth on their own. Eyes remained fixated on her as if she might disappear if he looked away. 

“Thanks. I have them sometimes.” Talia’s voice said somewhere in the background. 

“Well,” he nearly sighed. “Have a great day, then.” His brain became fuzzy, and some odd internal pull brought him away from the table. Had him paying and grabbing his jacket on autopilot. He pushed back the door and stepped out into the afternoon, stepping off the curb and right in front of a car. Brakes squealing, it stopped only a few feet from him. The driver shot him a glare as he stepped back onto the sidewalk, both hands held up in apology. 

“Hey! You alright, Father?” Y/N called, watching with wide eyes from the entrance of the store. 

“Just fine!” He returned a bright, albeit shaky smile, and hurried across the street before he could cause any road-related casualties. 

Something bright rose in Y/Ns expression, like something from a terrible romance movie. All the anxiety and tension fled as she motioned him towards her, resting her weight against the brick wall near the door. The corners of her lips curled up, “It’s good to see you.” 

Father Sylus opened his mouth, but his brain was short-circuiting. The way she looked at him made him weak. Why now, of all times, did he notice his internal struggle? 

“Yeah,” his voice cracked. Clearing his throat and straightening his jacket, he tried again. “Good to see you too, Y/N.” He took a step closer and let his focus brush over her cheeks, down her neck, resting for a moment on those lips. The ones that had been flush against his own a few days before. Searing and consuming kisses and a passionate embrace that had left him a little mindless for a good half hour afterward. 

“Listen,” he started, still a little dumstruck and distracted. 

She looked up at him expectantly, then tilted her head slightly, raising a brow. It was quite possibly the cutest thing he’d ever witnessed and all he could focus on as he tried to find the strength to continue. 

“Y/N, uh…” 

The door to the shop opened, and Xavier stepped out, causing them to take a noticeable step back.  

“The boiler.” Father Sylus blurted like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He winced internally. “The boiler at the church needs to be looked at.” 

The young man looked over, crossing his arms. “Does it make a banging sound when it heats up?” 

“Uh...” the priest glanced at the girl briefly, eyes pleading and lips twisting into a sheepish smile. “Yes? I don’t know much about it, though. How would we go about fixing it?” 

“Depends on what’s causing the problem.” Xavier shrugged. He wasn’t purposefully being unhelpful; he was just probably not looking to explain any unnecessary details. 

A gust of wind caught Y/N’s attention, and she shivered as she wrapped her arms around herself. “Xavier can do it; he’s a genius at anything like that. Aren’t you, Xavier?” 

Xavier didn’t look that impressed at the praise. “Sure.” 

“It wouldn’t be hard, no more than a few hours,” she continued. “Right?” 

Xavier gave her a nod, “Maybe less. I can take a look before this weekend. Tell your dad I went home when he gets back, okay?” The young man nodded to each of them before disappearing down the sidewalk.

Y/N turned to face Father Sylus directly. She gazed up with a mixture of happiness and wariness. It seemed to him that she was nervous about something, maybe struggling to find the right words. 

“Thank you,” Father Sylus found the gratitude he had been searching for earlier. “Thank you for the other day. I wasn’t sure if I said it before…” 

At that, Y/N smiled the softest of grins. “My pleasure, Father.” Her hand reached out, palm brushing against the back of his hand, thumb stroking lightly. His breath hitched at the simple touch. Gravity was pulling them closer together, and he followed that urge by wrapping a hand around hers, squeezing. A quick and surreptitious move. Even the most casual touches were intoxicating, thickening his blood with longing. 

“So,” she breathed softly, voice low, “other than the boiler, you’re good? Feeling okay? No more ‘migraines’?” There was no hesitancy, though she did smirk when asking. It was as if she was seeking the feelings and sensations, not hiding from them as she once might’ve. Or maybe he was too transparent. Either way, the words managed to settle some of the deep-rooted tension he’d been building. 

He returned her question with an exhale. “No, everything’s okay.” His hand slipped free, and a funny thought ran through his brain that now wasn’t the best place to try and talk. Out here, in the open. He nodded, straightening. “And you?” 

“Me?” She blinked, taking a step closer. “I’m great.” 

“That’s - that’s great.” 

“That’s great.” Y/N agreed, sounding a bit breathless. Her hand reached up, hovering over his bicep, then pulling back as if she caught herself before doing something she ought not to out in the open. “Well,” she said, her gaze trailing down his chest, then quickly back to his eyes. “Hope you’ll let me pay you back someday.” 

There was an unspoken question as if somehow she wanted to test whether he would cross that line again or if she would, and what they were expected to do if that was their direction. How something like this could work long term, or at all, without the world getting involved.  

More than anything, he wished to know how to avoid her getting hurt, as she had to deal with that recently. For her, he’d do his best. He had never seen someone so delicate and yet had the innate ability to break him in the same instant. 

Father Sylus took a step back, his heart pounding. Words alone were not going to resolve this situation. At least, not yet. “I’ve got to get going.” 

“Do you?” 

“Yes. I’m sorry.” 

She looked at him, contemplating before tearing herself away. “Then, I’ll see you later.” She raised a hand, reaching for the door handle, then looked back at him while chewing her lip. After the longest minute, Father Sylus gave her a nod and moved, finally turning his back, glancing over his shoulder once. That heavy pull tugged in his chest, heat twisting in his gut, begging to be acknowledged. 

One minute at a time, that was the only way to do this. There would be no future as a priest with her, yet - they were bound by a strange connection now. By unexplained forces that made the situation unique, and a lot he still needed to work through. Work through what made this feel like …prophecy, of all things.

“Father, wait.” 

He turned. 

Y/N pulled her cardigan tighter around her and let out a breath. Then she motioned to the store, looking at him. With a nod of understanding, he followed her inside. Not a word since it wasn’t needed.

Without warning or anything particularly romantic, she touched his shoulder, fingers stretching and trailing. Biting her lip as if fighting back a smile, she approached closer. His feet were nearly pressed against the toes of his shoes. She reached up, her fingers tracing along his jaw, eyes following the same path. Once, and then again, slowly, as if unable to break the wonder that she had. 

It was far too much and not enough. His hands grasped her hips, trying to memorize the way she leaned into him.  She raised her gaze back to his, chin tilted up. Her whole face lit up. 

It was easy to forget the world that stood beyond her. Easy to wish to drop the sense of duty and feel her warmth. But he would have to settle for her reaching up to kiss him. Soft. Chaste. A gentle and hesitant attempt, more or less. From her, that felt extraordinary. She was soft, and her movements were careful, trailing kisses along his jaw, leaving a fire trail in her wake. His nerves lit up like lightning, caught in the web she’d weaved. 

Pushing aside the momentary madness, he tilted his head to find her mouth waiting.

The second kiss was equally as breathtaking. Slower, but harder. A kiss that brought awareness, and she let out the softest moan. 

Father Sylus pulled back, looking at her with amusement. “Be careful,” he found himself saying. “I could get used to that.” 

Her eyebrow raised, and she smirked. “Then get used to it.”

“Thanks again for driving me out to the mall.” You told Rafayel, sinking lower into the seat and fidgeting with your scarf you hadn’t forgotten that morning. With your phone somewhere out in the woods, your friend had offered to take you on the half-hour drive for a new one. Now, you two had arrived back in town just in time for the first real cold snap of the season to settle in. 

“Oh no, don’t thank me. I’d do almost anything to escape Aunt Talia and her preachy gossip hour.” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but the look he shot over at you as he parked along the main street told you not to bother. If there was one thing Rafayel was good at, it was bringing out the stubbornness in everyone. Being around him again made you realize he was still the most childish person you knew in a playful, endearing way. You pulled your new phone from your pocket as you exited the car, pulling your coat tighter around you. In the time that you were out, it had dropped a few degrees, and the biting cold set in.

Rafayel joined you on the sidewalk and opened the door of the coffee shop, holding it for you.

"What will you ever do if I'm not here to chauffeur you?" He asked, playfully bumping into you.

You returned the gesture, chuckling. "Walk."

"How dull ."

"Right? It'll be impossible to survive without you here saving me." You quipped.

"You're a doll for making sure that I still feel wanted."

His words made you remember something, and for a moment, you put your weight against the wall near the counter and simply studied his face. The man who had always been such a welcome presence, even as a teenager. His self-centered quirks almost faded when he smiled at you, replaced by a look you had difficulty placing. The look of someone who had a hard out in the world, and there was an unspoken understanding between you two that you hadn't fully acknowledged until that moment. You shifted a bit and tucked your hands into your pockets, opening your mouth to speak.

"Seriously, though, I know how difficult this must be for you. Moving back home, settling after your little...adventure."

Rafayel didn't respond immediately; instead, he focused on handing his credit card to the barista and ordering the drinks. He pulled out his phone, and the girl behind the counter handed you your orders. You thought maybe he wouldn't speak until he looked up at you.

"It has a lot of perks. Being so close to Talia is certainly not one of them, but it's as if I've gotten to start over. And this time, I want to do it right. I'm older now, and I can understand what kind of person I can be. More like you."

You stopped mid-sip and blinked. What did he mean, 'more like you'? What did he know about you? Licking the cream off your lips, you gave him a puzzled look.

"I'm going to stop being such a pompous ass." He said.

You laughed nervously, sputtering a bit and then clearing your throat as you set the drink down. "No offense, because you're pretty clever when you want to be, but please, for the love of - do not follow my example."

Rafayel snorted in response and rubbed at his jaw, "Who said anything about 'following your example'? Just thought it would be nice to be more mindful." He reached out to hold the door open for you again, a sign of your return to the outside.

Cold air spread through your jacket, and your heart flitted as a memory sparked.

Father Sylus gave you a little smile, dimples and all, and you fell. Backward, it seemed. There was a flicker in the vision. A dazed high that you knew would stay forever and ever in your core. That evening. The briefest moment of letting go, just for a bit, just to have the pleasure of feeling hands.

Of feeling more.

Pinpricks traveled from your neck, cascading through your chest. Glancing down at your phone, you collided with another form, someone solid who caught you by the elbows, pulling you upright. As your coffee cup flew to the ground and your phone nearly slipped from your hand, you looked up to give whoever it was who nearly caused your stumble a piece of your mind.

You were met by a pair of hazel eyes framed in silver-rimmed glasses and a look of intense surprise on his face.

It took a moment, too long, but as soon as it registered, you froze, the rest of the world shutting down.

"Zayne. Hi," your voice cracked.

He gawked, grip tightening a bit on your elbows, brow wrinkling before he released you.

"Y/N," the whisper of your name carried so many mixed emotions. His expression broke, revealing a look of shock before quickly fixing it, shifting back to one of control and neutrality. It was much too practiced and not enough to really fool you. "It's you."

Something deep resonated, and you inhaled sharply, taking a step back. There was no fucking way this was happening. No fucking way this day was going like this. No fucking way this man was standing in front of you. Your mind blanked, any clear idea darting around and disappearing in its wake. You suddenly wanted to cry, to scream, to puke all over his shoes.

"What are you doing here?" You heard yourself ask. An automated response.

You watched as Zayne cautiously glanced toward Rafayel, standing next to you with wide eyes, lips parted, and ready to fight. Zayne's hands rose slightly in defense, recognizing he'd set off a land mine.

"Y/N." His face fell, and again, a genuine relief. Sad. Guilty. Something. "You weren't answering my calls. I -" another glance toward your friend, and his lips pressed into a line. Zayne inhaled deeply and let it out slowly, eyes landing back on you. And suddenly, you were reminded of what drew you to him in the first place: those eyes. The kindness and the truth there. But now...

"What the fuck , Zayne." It was half whine and half plea.

Suddenly, Rafayel grabbed your arm, gently tugging you closer. His arm is locked around your shoulders, glaring glacial. "If it isn't the Prince of Parcheesi."

The 'Prince' straightened his posture. "Excuse me?"

You pointed an accusatory finger, "I asked you a question. What the hell are you doing here? "

You knew Zayne was a man of great patience, but even he couldn't have enough to deal with the two of you. "I was just wondering if I could...talk to you, Y/N."

"You flew across the country to talk to me?!"

"Drove, actually, and no." He flinched as the words left his lips and looked as if he hadn't thought through this plan until just then. A blush crept up his cheeks, and his hand adjusted the glasses perched on his nose. Was that cute or obnoxious? Either way, the sight was irritating and endearing, all in a nauseous mix. "Maybe."

You felt something weird, like a light pull, drawing a magnetism. It was easy to slip into what you felt for him , regardless of everything. It was always there. Mixed with disgust and anger.

"Well, you can't, so, uh, fuck off," Rafayel said.

Then there was the shame. Pure and unfiltered shame , along with a sort of helplessness that stuck and settled. The feeling resurfaced in the back of your throat. And with Zayne staring at you with that damned broken expression, sadness and hurt over losing something close. Your breath came out unintended. Eyes stinging. Why did he have to show up again now ? Hadn't you dealt with enough already? Weren't you due for a fucking break already?

"Alright," Zayne answered quietly. "That's okay, I understand, and I hope-"

"Hey, dumbass."

"Excuse me?"

Despite the emotional crisis, Rafayel stood as a pillar, and suddenly, despite the heaviness and suffocation that came with so much unwanted stimulation, he seemed to really be the key to holding it all together. Thank God for him. As much of an idiot and a wild child as he was, he managed to bring you back to the right here and the right now.

"Did I fucking stutter?"

Zayne was shocked to silence, blinking his hazel eyes, "Do I - do I know you ?"

"Exactly why, pray tell, is a self-important prick like you anywhere near our neck of the woods?"

"I'm getting divorced." Clearly, this was something Zayne wanted to tell you in private. You could tell by the way his voice practically faded out, and you went completely numb. It was like the phrase dropped into a stormy sea, drowning out into the water, getting pulled under and lost to the depth.

You imagined Rafayel had heard it based on his sharp exhale. Perhaps he even felt a little bad for his colorful choice of words. For a moment, you stayed rigid, your hand sliding down and grabbing hold of Rafayel's hand, which was tight and uncertain. Just to hold onto something, even if it felt silly.

"You don't owe him shit," Rafayel leaned and whispered. The reminder was appreciated, if needed, and loud enough for the other man to hear. This had nothing to do with you or what happened. Or maybe it did. Fuck. None of that mattered, did it? Because nothing could ever happen between you and him again. Whatever relationship there was could never, should never, would never. Even if the whole divorce was due to the hurt you'd caused.

God, you had done that.

There wasn't a way to focus anymore; your brain simply fizzled. Out and empty. Almost like the second, you knew Zayne was there, a huge barrier just came down, releasing every little ache and desire you still held onto for him. All the suppressed 'what ifs' and the hope of healing. And happiness.

Yet there was a heaviness, too, knowing he couldn't be yours because he was never free in the first place.

It had to sink, but you could feel a rage slowly taking over, along with a hollow agony that had haunted you.

"I can't breathe." You felt yourself take a staggered breath and another, pain catching in the back of your throat.

Without a second thought, you decided you had to leave. Quickly. As quickly as possible. That part, at least, was clear in the madness.

Zayne stepped closer, leaning forward in alarm and worry. "Y/N, I'm so sor -"

"Don't," was your only response. You sniffed, tears in the corner of your eyes. Rafayel was quick, giving the bespectacled fool the nastiest glare known to man as he wrapped his arm around you again and turned you toward the car.

"Y/N, will you please-" Of all the times for the doctor to be persistent.

"No."

"I can explain, I swear, I- please."

"Fuck off."

There was nothing else to say, however, because that second, you were confident that this was, in fact, your old hometown, and this was the man you'd let consume all your fantasies and wishes not that long ago. Your voice was loud enough to grab the attention of the others who dared to be on the sidewalk. Not that they bothered to do anything more than gawk.

Your hands shook, your heart pounding right out of your throat and chest as you got into the passenger seat. As soon as the door closed, Rafayel went around to the driver's side, the slam of the door jolting you.

"Damn," Rafayel muttered, glancing in the rearview mirror as he put the car in gear.

Tears were slipping down your cheeks, hot and sticky and just fucking uncomfortable. Disappointment did that, no matter how well-deserving the end result was.

"Fuck, fuck," you hissed, rubbing at your cheek to try and wipe the wetness away. It didn't work. The car started moving, and you gripped the handle above you, trying to straighten your back, trying to focus on literally anything to get your damn thoughts to come back together.

Rafayel didn't ask, make any guesses, or make any more offhanded comments. Once the speed increased and his grip on the steering wheel loosened, he focused on driving instead. But knowing how confused he was for you didn't take a psychic.

Inhaling sharply, you held it and then released, shuddering again. "I need a Xanax."

"Just try to keep it together a while longer, okay?"

"He just had to fucking show up like that and ruin it."

"I know."

"That's...what..." you stopped. Your mind is fuzzed; everything is going through, flashing at different speeds and scenes of your relationship. It was everything and nothing. Emptiness, followed by the familiar weight of regret. Pain. Worry. The fear you'd been dealing with for months, but the one thing that broke, sinking in finally after forcing it so far down, was the loss of the possibility. Zayne was married, and he was getting divorced, and all those missed phone calls might've been him trying to share that. Run back to you, just to have something. You'd always seen him as someone who could truly never belong to himself.

You couldn't find the energy to wipe away any more of your tears, so you left them to slowly dry against your jawline and into the lining of your scarf.

"He said he drove," you told Rafayel. "That means he's not leaving anytime soon, which means-"

"It's all going to suck."

After about ten minutes of quiet and blank, empty thought, the car moved slowly through the neighborhood. When it pulled into your driveway, it was a surprising relief.

"Will you be okay alone?" Rafayel asked.

"Probably not, but I want to be."

"Okay, well, your mopey mug has seen enough action for today. You're heading inside to take a little day nap, and when you wake up, you will feel better, and everything will look less confusing, yeah?" He reached into the back of the car, pulled out his messenger bag, and dug into it. You wiped one eye with your sleeve, cringing and taking a deep breath as you did the same with the other. Then there was a bottle of pills in his hand. "And take a fuckin' Xanax."

You held your hand out and looked down at the blue pill pressed into your palm. You didn't hesitate to pop it in, mouth dry and sticky as you managed to force it down without water. "God bless you, you crazy sonofabitch."

Rafayel shrugged, shaking the bottle before shoving it back in the bag, "Anything for my friend, Y/N."

"Mm." Somehow, a smile made it to your lips, your face a bit numb. You stared blankly at the center console for a moment before turning to Rafayel. His expression was determined, and his lips twisted, looking a touch less than steady. It took a few seconds for the message to click until you realized he meant it. He'd been honest.

You nodded, closing your eyes.

"Anything, Y/N. Call if you need me."

"I fucked Father Sylus." You blurted out, unable to bear the confusion. His eyebrows raised.

"What the actual fuck? Of all things, why would you say that ?"

"Because I think I really like him."

"Jesus Christ. You really did it, huh?"

Then you were all out bawling, and you thought that perhaps it was Lindsey who cursed Stevie in the first place.

Tag list: @celestialforce, @readerxyourbabe, @babyx91

A/N: I found this tiktok the other day and it made me LOL and actually gave me the motivation to edit this chapter and post it. If you find any relatable tiktoks, please send them. I beg you.

[talonabraxas]

Ascension Tree Talon Abraxas The Origin of the Christmas Tree A Recent Christian Tradition Whose Roots Are Ancient and Pagan The custom of the Christmas tree is a very recent institution. It is of a late date not only in Russia, but also in Germany, where it was first established and whence it spread everywhere, in the New as well as in the Old World. In France the Christmas tree was adopted only after the Franco-German war, later therefore than 1870. According to Prussian chronicles, the custom of lighting the Christmas tree as we now find it in Germany was established about a hundred years ago. It penetrated into Russia about 1830, and was very soon adopted throughout the Empire and the richer classes.

It is very difficult to trace the custom historically. Its origin belongs undeniably to the highest antiquity. Fir trees have ever been held in honour by the ancient nations of Europe. As ever-green plants, and symbols of never-dying vegetation, they were sacred to the nature-deities, such as Pan, Isis and others. According to ancient folklore the pine was born from the body of the nymph Pitys (the Greek name of that tree), the beloved of the gods Pan and Boreas. During the vernal festivals in honour of the great goddess of Nature, fir trees were brought into the temples decorated with fragrant violets.

The ancient Northern peoples of Europe had a like reverence for the pine and fir trees in general, and made great use of them at their various festivals. Thus, for instance, it is well known that the pagan priests of ancient Germany, when celebrating the first stage of the sun’s return toward the vernal equinox, held in their hands highly ornamented pine branches.  And this points to the great probability of the now Christian custom of lighting Christmas trees being the echo of the pagan custom of regarding the pine as a symbol of a solar festival, the precursor of the birth of the Sun.  It stands to reason that its adoption and establishment in Christian Germany imparted to it a new, and so to speak, Christian form. Thence fresh legends – as is always the case – explaining in their own way the origin of the ancient custom. We know of one such legend, remarkably poetical in its charming simplicity, which purports to give the origin of this now universally prevailing custom of ornamenting Christmas trees with lighted wax tapers.

Near the cave in which was born the Saviour of the world grew three trees – a pine, an olive, and a palm. On that holy eve when the guiding star of Bethlehem appeared in the heavens, that star which announced to the long-suffering world the birth of Him, who brought to mankind the glad tidings of a blissful hope, all nature rejoiced and is said to have carried to the feet of the Infant-God her best and holiest gifts.

Among others the olive tree that grew at the entrance of the cave of Bethlehem brought forth its golden fruits; the palm offered to the Babe its green and shadowy vault, as a protection against heat and storm; alone the pine had nothing to offer. The poor tree stood in dismay and sorrow, vainly trying to think what it could present as a gift to the Child-Christ. Its branches were painfully drooping, and the intense agony of its grief finally forced from its bark and branches a flood of hot transparent tears, whose large resinous and gummy drops fell thick and fast around it.

A silent star, twinkling in the blue canopy of heaven, perceived these tears; and forthwith, confabulating with her companions – lo, a miracle took place.

Hosts of shooting stars fell down, like unto a great rain shower, on the pine until they twinkled and shone from every needle, from top to bottom.  Then trembling with joyful emotion, the pine proudly raised her drooping branches and appeared for the first time before the eyes of a wondering world, in most dazzling brightness.  From that time, the legend tells us, men adopted the habit of ornamenting the pine tree on Christmas Eve with numberless lighted candles.

[austerlitzborodinoleipzig]

Anyway Conclave is a deeply sad film because it makes us entertain a version of the Catholic church where God himself comes to break the bars of the dead institutions bringing light and life, where church men are actually worthy and a man after Jesus's own heart ends up Pope.

And that won't happen but wouldn't it be nice?

And I know those leftwing Catholics who will make this movie their manifesto but their fight is still a lost one.

And it's beautiful because Benitez is pope and Lawrence has faith and Bellini comes to God through trial and Adeyemi has the revelation and it's nice but it's past me to rejoice when yet another priest finds redemption.

And it's beautiful because my best friend has become a nun and Conclave still gives a little hope that things could be changed but the truth is I lost my friend to God who doesn't deserve it and to the Catholic church who deserves her even less. (Maybe that's selfish of me).

And it's deeply personal in the way that priest says we work for an ideal but we aren't ideal and I wonder if I do not love the Church more when it's a pile of elaborate rituals and traditions designed to make sense of life to order it around a vast emptiness and the quest and the ritual becomes holy in itself.

And maybe if it's in-between I like it better if it means believing in a God you know doesn't exist. Because the belief in the absence is the mystery.

[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.

[royaltysimblr]

Ophelia of Lausanne, Queen of Windenburg (1620-1673) - Part 6 - Pre-War Years

In October of 1645, Ophelia and her household were stopped by an angry mob on their way to the Verdun Palace. The angry mob chanted for the death of Queen Ophelia and her children. Several carriages in her entourage were toppled and looted, her Jacoban Priests and Guards were murdered, and two of her ladies-in-waiting were severely wounded. However, Kings Guards, only a block away, saw the insurrection alerted the Palace, and were able to rescue the Queen. Afterward, Ophelia refused to return to Windenburg, preferring to stay at Windslar Palace which was outside the city walls. Although Ophelia never returned to Windenburg, her husband still held court at Verdun Palace during the winter, bringing their children along. 

During the late 1640s, relations with Magnolia soured as Windenburg developed a closer relationship with Brichester. Brichester and Magnolia had become enemies during the religious wars and were seen as trading competitors. During the economic crisis, Windenburg relied heavily on Brichester who openly welcomed this new allyship. Magnolia was enraged by this newfound relationship, causing Ophelia’s place in court to become even more vulnerable. Harassment and anger toward Ophelia grew at court, with many regarding her to be the devil. 

In 1650, Ophelia’s son, Prince James, was officially invested as Prince of the Isle in Windenburg. The public investiture was met with celebration by the public who rejoiced in the Peteran ceremony. Ophelia refused to attend the ceremony due to the Peteran service, as well as the fact that it took place in Windenburg. 

Ophelia had always desired her eldest daughter, Princess Louise, to marry her cousin’s son, the Duke of Reims, who would be the future King of Magnolia. However, these plans were spoiled by the King and his councilors who despised the match. Other potential suitors for Louise included the Duke of Schwerin, the Prince of Brichester, and the Crown Prince of Vasa. The Duke of Schwerin wasn’t suitable for the eldest daughter of the King, the Prince of Brichester was too old, and the Crown Prince of Vasa wanted a larger dowry. In 1652, negotiations began for Louise to marry King Felipe II of Almeria who was one year her senior. Although Felipe was Jacoban, the match was seen as favorable due to their anti-Magnolian sentiment. Felipe’s mother and regent, Queen Antonia, had waged two wars against Magnolia during her rule. In 1653, Louise was married to Felipe by proxy at the Windslar Palace Chapel. Ophelia reportedly wept through the whole ceremony. Ophelia was devastated by the marriage of her daughter as she would never see her again. Ophelia accompanied Louise to Glencraig where she departed from for Almeria. Ophelia would continue to correspond with her daughter weekly for the rest of her life, writing around 3,000 letters. 

In 1654, her sons James and Charles married Princess Caroline of Mannheim and Princess Augusta of Augsburg in a double marriage ceremony. The marriage of the princes to religious Peteran Princesses was meant to calm the general public. The marriages were widely celebrated throughout the country. Although the marriages were considered great successes for James and his advisors, Ophelia detested the matches. Ophelia would have preferred a marriage to one of her nieces or any other Jacoban Princess.