fc5 ancient rome mystery cult au

Saddler Theories!

Okay, this is going to be a looooong ride.

I’ve noticed that almost no one is talking about the Saddler Sanctuary and the things RE4R has established about the mysterious leader(s) of Los Iluminados. But that’s okay, because... I have theories. And a lot of them. (Yes, I realize that Separate Ways might make all of this obsolete with just one tiny note or remark, but still, it is so much fun to speculate.)

But first, the facts.

What does the game establish?

- There have been 15 leaders of Los Iluminados, Osmund Saddler being the latest and Adam Saddler being the first. We also know full names of Hester Saddler and Keenan Saddler, leading to the conclusion that the leader of Los Iluminados has always carried the last name Saddler.

- The first names of the leaders correspond to the letters of the alphabet - i.e., O as in Osmund is the 15th leader, A as Adam was the first, J as in Joseph was the 10th, F as in Francis was the 6th... etc.

- There are 15 statues in the Saddler Sanctuary, one for each leader - and they all look the same.

- We know of two former leaders who have tombstones with epitaphs outside the Sanctuary: Hester Saddler and Keenan Saddler. Hester Saddler is - most likely - the one who was in charge when the cult was banished to the island because his epitaph - from the year 1741 - reads “we find ourselves in exile” and generally talks about the cult having been banished to the “barren” island.

- Hester’s tombstone appears to have been completely abandoned while Keenan’s is accompanied by an old shrine where you can find the Staff of Royalty treasure. (In the OG game, that staff was found inside an old grave inside the mines, so, that theme continues here.)

Now... these facts lead to one massive question: How does this entire line of Saddler leaders work?

Of couse, the first and maybe most obvious theory is that this is some kind of family-based monarchy cult reign. The eldest Saddler son always takes over the cult. However, there is no indication of biological sons - and since this is a religious cult that seems to heavily reference the Catholic church, I am somewhat hesitant to go down that road. The old verses from the Iluminados Bible refer to the leader of the cult as “the master” (a nice throwback to the OG game where Osmund refers to himself as “the master of this fine, religious community”) and there is another line that basically states that the villagers gave him some of their children. This might imply that one of those children is then chosen to be the next leader and gets the last name Saddler and the next-in-line first name that corresponds to the next letter of the alphabet. Still though, while being a viable and plausible theory, there is no concrete evidence for this in the game. (It also kinda clashes with Las Plagas being deadly to children but since we don’t know if the villagers ever even got plagas back in those days I’m gonna leave this one up for speculation.)

The second theory is rooted in what I already said - Los Iluminados are very much reminiscent of the Catholic Church in some ways (this comes as no surprise, given how the people of the region were Catholics before they turned to the cult). The leader carries a staff, just like the Pope, he walks around with a posse who are basically attendants - again, just like the Pope - and he is the one (a) god speaks through... just like the Pope. It might therefore be logical to assume that the new leader is chosen in the same way a new Pope is chosen - by elders (Los Iluminados do appear to have a rank system of some kind) who elect one of their own who will then become the new leader and assume the appropriate name of Next-Letter-In-The-Alphabet Saddler, much like the new Pope gets to choose a name for himself.

But STOP in the name of love! Wait!

Before I go on... I know, I know - what happens when they run out of letters for the first names of the latest Saddler? What happens once they’ve reached the letter Z? I might have an answer for this. There might not actually BE a letter Z. A heavily used symbolism in the Catholic Church - which, remember, appears to have been used very heavily as a basis for a lot of things related to Los Iluminados - is the use of Alpha and Omega as in beginning and end. In the transliteration of the Greek alphabet into Latin, omega becomes o. Which gives us A and O - Adam and Osmund. This might also explain why there is no room for another statue in the Saddler sanctuary: Osmund is meant to be the last leader of Los Iluminados; but not because the cult is done. No - because Osmund is supposed to rule the world for all eternity. This might also be why the Iluminados Bible that can be found next to the altar in the Saddler Sanctuary has the final page of the Iluminados story open. (Yes, I know, isn’t this fascinating so far?)

This little excursion now brings me to my final theory as to how the Saddlers have managed to rule Los Iluminados for so long. Ready? Ready.

My third and final (and favorite because it’s the most out there but also the most Resident Evil and, funnily enough, also the one that is most backed by evidence in the game) theory is... that Adam Saddler and Osmund Saddler are the exact same person, only reborn again and again thanks to the powers of Las Plagas.

This would explain a lot of things the game establishes, most notably why all the Saddler statues in the Sanctuary look the same. And why Osmund talks the way he talks - old-fashioned and seemingly oblivious to any kind of modern speech patterns. It is also backed by one piece of evidence in the game - Keenan Saddler’s epitaph from 1827 that states “we die only to be reborn; we live on through eternity“.

Now, of course, this raises questions. We know that Las Plagas were banned and sealed under the castle when Hester Saddler was in charge of the cult. So how could the leaders continue the rebirth? My theory is that the leader of Los Iluminados has always had the dominant plaga that Osmund has. (Luis Serra’s note states that it is different from all the other plagas due to an extra “organ”... no I’m not gonna go into THAT one now, lol.) Adam Saddler discovered Las Plagas under the castle in 1554, as the Provenance Monolith in the Saddler Sanctuary states. So, what if he found the dominant plaga back then and became its host? It is known that parasites can reproduce through basically cloning themselves. What if the plaga, once the “speaker” is no longer viable enough, cocoons itself and then self-replicates while the previous one dies? This could be the “rebirth” that Keenan Saddler’s epitaph speaks of. And yes, Las Plagas were sealed. But since Hester Saddler was obviously with his cult on the island... what if his dominant plaga went with him? Whatever the “new leader” ritual is, it must have continued on the island. The cult prevailed on the island. Las Plagas themselves might have been sealed again under the castle, yes, but what about the plagas that were already inside the cult members? Were they all killed? Or were they all banished to the island? The game clearly mentions that the latter was the case - Los Iluminados were banished to the island, Las Plagas themselves were sealed underneath the castle. But nobody mentions what happened to the plagas that were already inside the cult members. Only that the cult was banished to the island. Which makes me assume that their plagas simply went with them, including Hester’s dominant plaga. Which also supports my “rebirth” theory - the rebirthing process continued, leader after leader, until it had reached Osmund, the O, omega, the end. Osmund then found out about Ramon Salazar being a sick child who had an incredibly strict father (there is a note referring to Salazar’s mother inviting “the devil” into the house to cure her son from his illness AND “the devil” also murdered Salazar’s father, which means Osmund murdered him) and to him this must have seemed like a prophecy coming true - he convinced Salazar to unseal Las Plagas and then he hired scientists to improve and enhance his control over Las Plagas, to ensure that he would be able to take over the world and rule for all eternity as the final and eternal leader.

Of course it is also equally possible (I guess this some kind of 4th theory) that Osmund Saddler - like in the original - is an outsider, a bio weapons research chief who heard about the myth of Las Plagas and simply walked in and, in this version of the game’s story, assumed the identity of the next leader of the cult to achieve world domination. This would be the fastest and simplest explanation, I guess - and is also a very likely one since it’s the closest to what the original established. It would kinda diminish the whole cult backstory, however. I mean why go to such lengths to establish such an elaborate cult backstory when the idea is “and then one day some dude walked in who was just a really good actor with a silver tongue and there was identity theft and suddenly world domination”.

Anyways. These are my Los Iluminados Lord Saddler theories. Yes, this was a long essay. But hey.

FROM THE SHADOWS | Official Trailer, Poster & Images

FROM THE SHADOWS, the supernatural horror feature film starring Academy Award® nominee and Golden Globe® winner Bruce Davison (“Ozark,” Willard”), Selena Anduze (“Wanda/Vision,” “Creepshow”), and Tony nominated and multiple Emmy Award winner, Keith David (“Nope,” “The Thing”) will open in five theaters around the country from September 22-28. From The Shadows will have its official red carpet premiere in Los Angeles on September 19th, 2023.

(L-R) Selena Anduze as Dr. Amara Rowan and Jim Thalman as Peter in FROM THE SHADOWS.

When the enigmatic leader of the Hidden Wisdom cult, Dr. Joseph Cawl (Bruce Davison), and eighteen of his followers all die in a mysterious inferno, the five young survivors suspected of igniting the blaze contact paranormal researcher Amara Rowan (Selena Anduze) to help uncover the real cause of the fire. When they stumble upon the truth behind the disappearance of Cawl’s partner, Dr. Leonard Bertram (Keith David), they become the target of a deranged killer that wants to slaughter them all.

Keith David as Dr. Leonard Bertram

Directed by Mike Sargent, written by Mike Kuciak with story by Ian Holt, (co-author, with Dacre Stoker, of the international bestseller, “Dracula the Un-Dead”, the official sequel to Bram Stoker’s classic 1897 novel, “Dracula”), Mike Kuciak, and Mike Sargent, From The Shadows is produced by Michael Alden, Ian Holt and Mike Kuciak of Alt-House Productions  in partnership with PFG Films. Special Effects makeup is designed by Vincent J. Guastini, with sound design by Academy Award® winner Cecelia Hall. The film’s score is composed by horror legend, Alan Howarth, who collaborated with John Carpenter for the scores to classics such as “Halloween,” “They Live,” “Prince Of Darkness,” and “Escape From New York.”

Claire Mack as Tina

“What intrigued me most about directing this film was the idea of fear of the unknown,” said Mike Sargent. “The idea that there is something malevolent waiting for us in the darkness that we can’t see but we know is there. I also think we live in a world where we often wonder how people could commit some of the evil that they do. So, when you put this together with the ability to work with two icons like Keith David and Bruce Davison… It’s literally a genre lover’s dream come true.”

From The Shadows won the Best Feature Award at The Horrorween Festival, was a finalist at The Stranger Days Horror Festival, is an official selection of the Phobia Film Festival in Missouri and The Port Of Fear Film Festival, Kenosha, WI.

Ester Tania as Denise

The following theaters will be showing FROM THE SHADOWS:

New York, NY – Angelika East, 181-189 2nd Ave, New York, NY 10003

Dallas, TX – Angelika Plano, 7205 Bishop Rd E-6, Plano, TX 75024

San Francisco, CA – Rohnert Park, 555 Rohnert Park Expy West, Rohnert Park, CA 94928

Washington DC – Angelika Pop-Up, 550 Penn St NE, Washington, DC 20002

Sacramento, CA – Tower Cinema, 2508 Land Park Dr, Sacramento, CA 95818

There will also be an In-Theater Contest in all of the theaters where From the Shadows will be playing. Keith David shot a short video that will screen before the feature instructing the audience on how to capture an on-screen QR code which will allow them to enter the contest to win.

The prizes are:

- The special fx makeup painted appliance and mold used for Leonard Bertram's melted face (Keith David) with poster signed by Fx makeup creator, Vince Guastini and Keith David. - Horror film memorabilia from Bruce Davison. - Film Soundtrack Vinyl signed by Alan Howarth, Keith David Bruce Davison and Selena Anduze.

I think I lied and I do want to be a Joseph apologist? Like I wished he talked to us more in the game because we don’t really get a good sense of him. It seems like cares personally about his siblings and his congregation, he seems to generally be a deeply convicted but kind of hippie-ish guy. So what happened for him to KILL at least two Faiths? What was going on with the whole Atonement thing? Assuming the Voice is real, how does the religion of Eden’s Gate play into the prepping?

He genuinely cares about his family (especially his siblings but also his followers) and his convictions are as sincere as they are extreme. He doesn’t see himself as a villain at all and has pure intentions, which is precisely why he is dangerous. If believing this makes you a “Joseph apologist”, then I am one too... and so are Greg Bryk and the writers because they said that multiple times in interviews! :)

I’ve always thought it was weird that we knew so little about the previous Faiths. You’d think characters would talk more about this subplot and that there would be more clues. Two or more women were Faith before Faith and at least one died; it’s not nothing! But all we have is:

Joseph’s line: “She was not the first to carry that name, but she was the most devoted”

The “Grieving Note” to Lana

The “Dirty Crumpled Letter” to Selena

“A Confession”, the note written by a Faith (clearly not Rachel)

An NPC saying, “[Rachel] is the latest in a long line of Faiths. Before this one, it was a girl named Selena. And before that, Lana” (I don’t even know if this line is still in the game or if it was cut).

Joseph is sincere and well-intentioned in Far Cry 5 but, during the game’s development, and especially before Greg Bryk was cast, it wasn’t always the case. There’s evidence he used to be a more villainous, more manipulative, and less honest man. Basically, the “early Joseph” was a more stereotypical cult leader. I’ve always wondered if him possibly killing the previous Faiths (I say “possibly” because we don’t know what exactly happened, just that Lana apparently died) is an idea the devs got when he was still this “shadier Joseph”, that they wanted to expand on, and then just kind of forgot about but didn’t completely remove from the game. I don’t know, maybe it was always supposed to be this mysterious and unexplored, but I’m surprised by how little information there is about something that, I think, should be far from anecdotal!

In the files, the Henbane River region is often called “SELENA” (Holland Valley is “JOHN” and the Whitetail Mountains are “NORTH”), so I also wonder if there was supposed to be only one previous Faith, Lana, and the current Faith’s real name was going to be Selena, not Rachel. NPCs also sometimes refer to Faith as Joseph’s “half-sister”, which implies they are related, and it’s a term the lead writer also used in several interviews. To me, it sounds like they explored a lot of options and scenarios regarding Faith and I can’t tell if Lana and Selena are also an (almost) abandoned idea or if they’re still totally canon.

If they are and it really was Joseph who got rid of them, he must have done it for a “good reason” (from his point of view, obviously), maybe because the Voice told him to. Greg Bryk was once asked about Faith in a convention and what, in his opinion, made a potential Faith a “good” Faith. The way he sees it, Joseph needs one because he misses “the maternal aspect of the feminine energy” in his life, a “Mother Earth energy”, even. Unlike John and Jacob, Faith is more of “an essence” and doesn’t have to be one specific person. He thinks that “when [Joseph] would lose faith, [he] would find another Faith”. The answer makes sense but it’s pretty vague and it doesn’t explain what happened to Rachel’s predecessors. I wonder if Greg Bryk even knows more about them or if that was just his personal theory.

As for the Atonement, it’s unclear whose idea cutting people’s skin off was. My guess is it was John’s, just like building and training an army was Jacob’s and drugging people was Faith’s. Joseph doesn’t seem to have a problem with the procedure, only with John’s zealousness (due to the intense and complicated relationship he has with pain… and to many unresolved issues), so I suppose it’s how the “Far Cry 5 God” actually wants people to Atone for their sins? Maybe the Voice asked them to do it that way? I wouldn’t be surprised, honestly. The Seeds believe they’re helping people and only doing what God wants, after all.

And the prepping makes sense because the Prophecy says the Apocalypse is coming and that they’ll need to survive for seven years in their bunkers. They have to save at least 3,000 “souls” so they need a lot of food and supplies!

Echo

Spencer Reid

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: Y/N is abducted while working a case and the team has to find her before it’s too late.

Genre: Fluff with a touch of angst

Warnings: Mention of death of minor character, torture

not my gif!

The team had been looking into case that had targeted girls with Y/H/C hair and Y/E/C eyes. All had looks strikingly similar to you and if anyone were to see either one of the victims in a room with you, they would say you were related. You all had been on the case for about a week now and you were still no where close to catching this guy. 

     “Agent Y/L/N,” a voice called as you whipped your head to face them, “these came in for you,” the officer was holding a bouquet of red roses with a small white card on the top of it. 

      “Do you know who these are from?” you asked as he shook his head and walked away. 

      “What does the note say?” Emily asked as the whole team had watched the interaction. 

     You opened the envelope and read the note as you furrowed your brows, “echo.” The team looked at each other with puzzled faces, “what the hell is that suppose to mean? Have we already dealt with this unsub?” The rest of team began theorizing as the same officer walked up to you again.

     “Agent, we’ve got someone that say he needs to speak to you.”

      “Can’t they come here?” Hotch asked, getting defensive.

      “He says that he won’t go into a place of justice, whatever that means,” the officer began to lead you as the rest of the team followed. You began walking towards the entrance of the station as the officer looked around for the mystery man. “He was just here,” the man spoke. 

      “Spence,” you spoke out as your boyfriend looked to you before you collapsed on the ground. You head hit the flooring as a ringing sounded in your ears as well as their being two of everything. Two Spencer’s holding your head, two Hotch’s yelling and pointing fingers, two lights blinding you from seeing anything. 

     What felt like hours later you were being lifted onto a bed. Two men had arrived with an ambulance as shouting and yelling was all that was heard. “Are you family, sir?” the first responder asked as Spencer opened him mouth and closed it again, “I didn’t think so, you all can follow in cars.” The man said as his colleague gave him as weird look as the both of them lifted you into the ambulance as the rest of the team rushed to get their keys and get into the SUVs.

     The ambulance sped off as the sirens wailed and your team rushed to the cars. “What in the fresh hell?” Derek said as he looked at the tires on one of the SUVs. “My tires are popped, what about you, Hotch?” 

     “Same here,” the raven haired man said. 

     “It’s a set up,” Reid spoke as fear flooded his face. 

***

     You awoke in a cabin where you had been tired to a chair and had a gag on your mouth. Your vision still hazy and your thoughts even hazier. 

     “Oh good, you’re up,” a male voice said from the corner of the room. You tried to get a good look at him, but he stayed in the shadows. “Ben Cyrus,” he said as you furrowed your eyebrows. The name sounded so familiar, but you couldn’t quite remember where you had heard it before. 

      “Who are you?” you asked as the man chuckled. “Let me go, I’ll talk to my team and we can work this out.” He scoffed at your words and began to walk towards you. 

     “Ben Cyrus. He ran the greatest church known to man and you,” his face was hardened and his eyes had a crazed look in them, “took away our faith!” He struck his hand across your face as a burning sensation filled your cheek. 

     It all rushed back to you. A few year back you, Prentiss, and Reid had all gone undercover in a cult-like church. The leader, Benjamin Cyrus, had been suspected of child abuse and sexual harassment and the government had wanted the BAU to get involved. 

     “I remember,” you said as the man smiled. 

     “Good, Agent,” he grabbed a chair from the side of the room and brought it over to sit across from you. “Now,” he started again, “you might not know me. My name is Joey Cyrus and I would say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but I’d be lyin’,” he studied you as you did the same.

     “What do you want, Joey?” 

     “Well my daddy would be nice for one, but I don’t believe you have the power to do that. So you’ll do just fine,” he got up from his chair and walked over to the bag that you had seen from the corner of your eye. He dumped the contents on the ground in front of you and a spill of tools came out. A hammer, pliers, a baseball bat, a few knives, and other things that could do damage. “Let’s get to know each other.”

***

     Back at the station, Spencer was frantically trying to figure out who had taken you and why. The note on the roses had been laced with a medicinal herb that had knocked you out and the ambulance had been found in a ditch on the highway with all but one of the first responders on it. The medics had been killed in a brutal way that even made Spencer sick to his stomach as he thought about what this guy was doing to you.

     “Reid,” Hotch’s voice broke his train of thought as he met eyes with the older man. “Go ahead, Garcia.”

     “Alright. Our mystery medic is Joseph Mulgrew , he moved to Utah just a few years ago and before that he has been off the map,” Garcia told the team. “This guy, he’s like a ghost. No records of his name anywhere else and no former address of any kind.”

     “Did you say Mulgrew?” Spencer said as the team looked at him.

     “Yes I did Doctor, what about it?”

     “Look up Joseph Cyrus,” Spencer told her as they heard the taps of Garcia’s keyboard. The team looked at him for an explanation, “Benjamin Cyrus, he was an unsub we had.”

     “Yeah,” Emily started, “he was that guy that ran that church and...” she trailed off as the team got the gist of what she was saying. 

     “He was Charles Mulgrew before he made a come back at the church. It could be possible that he has unknown family, considering what he was really doing all those years,” Spencer explained, “Garcia, how old is Joseph?” 

     “He is 27 years of age and the good doctor is right. Joey here changed his name like dear old dad and oh...” Penny trailed off.

     “Penny?” JJ asked.

     “Joseph has been in and out of jail and juvie for as long as I can see. Charged with assault, petty theft, and oh my. Domestic abuse filed by his ex-wife who looks a lot like our Y/N,” a sounding on their tablets was heard as they opened it and saw a woman very similar to you.

     “But Spencer and I went undercover too, why would he pick Y/N?” Emily said as she immediately started to solve the puzzle, “you think it’s because of the looks of the ex-wife?”

     “I think so,” Rossi mumbled, “Penelope pull up the most current address to Joe and anything that could be used to store Y/N.”

     “I’ve got a home address and a storage unit and they have all been sent to your phones! Go crime fighters and get our princess back!” Penelope told them.

     “Thanks, Baby Girl,” Morgan hung up the phone.

     “Reid with me and JJ. Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss take the storage. We’ll have to use squad cars until the SUVs are fixed so lets go get Y/L/N,” Hotch ordered as they all nodded ad went to the parking lot. 

***

     You muffled your screams and grunts as Joey had began to carve into your stomach. He laughed as you clenched your teeth and held your hands in fists, surely four crescent shaped cuts were to be found on the inside of your palms if you opened them. “You son of a bitch,” you struggled to get out as Joey wiped the knife off on your pants. 

     “Don’t you talk about my mama that way, girl. I’ll make sure you regret it.” You received at blow to the side of your face. You spit out the blood that formed in your mouth as Joey began to take the other tools out from his collection. “These look nice, don’t they, girl?” He held up a pack of cigarettes and a lighter as he popped one in his mouth.

     “Those things kill,” you said remembering Spencer tell you countless facts about the ‘cancer sticks’ as both of you had nicknamed them. “On second thought, why don’t you just keep smoking them.”

     He laughed, “you are a firecracker. My daddy always said the young ones are.” He stroked your hair as you tried to move back.

     “Your dad was sick in the head and you are too,” you spoke with such tenacity. 

     He looked at you blankly, “I thought I said you don���t speak of my family like that,” he took the cigarette from his mouth and stuck it on your exposed collar bone. 

     You grunted as he held your face in free hand. He leaned into your ear and whispered, “I want to hear those screams, girl.” He press the cigarette into your skin further, finally inciting a small scream to slip past your lips. “Good.”

***

     The team had arrived at both locations and there was no sign that you were there. Spencer paced around with his hands in is hair as the rest of the team was now even more worried than before, if that was possible. The team had no idea where you could be and if you were even alive. It had been at least 13 hours since you had dropped in the lobby and it was eating Spencer and the team alive.

     “You have nothing?” JJ asked Garcia over the phone,.

     “No, i’m sorry. I’ll keep looking and-” she was cut off by Spencer who had just had a revelation. 

     “Garcia, make sure the jet is ready. I think I know where Y/N is.”

***

     On the jet Spencer had explained the note and how it read ‘echo’ as saying that Joey might want to recreate the explosion at the church and now the team had touched down in Colorado where they got in SUVs to go to the church’s location. 

     A swat team followed them along the dirt roads that were bumpy and the night sky that was dark. The sun was starting to rise in the distance. Spencer remembered you always saying, ‘the same beams but a new day,’ and that made him the tiniest bit hopeful that they would find you in this new day. 

     The church came into view as they could see it was now a smaller wooden building. “What the hell,” Morgan said from the drivers seat as he say the building, “this guy built up a whole new structure to what? Avenge his father’s death?” The car came to a stop as the team hopped out of the car and Hotch began to go over the plan with the others.

     “From the front-” he was cut off by a ear piercing scream that came from no one other than you. Spencer looked at his boss in worry as Hotch returned the look and started again, “let’s go.”

     Joey drove a knife into your stomach as you screamed loudly. He left it in your body and quickly grabbed another knife from the ground. “You have got to work out your daddy issues another way,” you told him as he dragged the new knife down the side of your face as it cut into your skin. 

     “You wanna try something different, girl?” You immediately regretted your words and recalled Spence always telling you that your smart mouth was going to get you in trouble some day. He began to unbutton the top of his flannel, but quickly stopped as he heard footsteps in the distance. You heard them too. 

      “Spencer!” you yelled as loud as you could as Joey came over to you and cut the ropes on your ankles and arms as he quickly grabbed you and put a knife to your neck. 

      From the front of the house Spencer could hear your cries as his ears perked up as his heart rate grew faster and Hotch nodded as Morgan kicked the door down. The team moved through the structure and finally Spencer came face to face with you, “Y/N,” he said as you locked eyes with your boyfriend and smiled lightly, despite the situation at hand. 

     “Joseph, put the knife down,” Hotch told the man as the knife just dug deeper into your skin. 

     “I don’t think so,” he took grip on you and made it tighter. “You killed my family. He never did anything but help people in need of his guidance.”

     “Your father ruined the lives of young girls,” Spencer said matter-o-factly. 

     “No! He did them a favor, he gave them the greatest gift he could,” Joey said as he began to move his hand without the knife a bit more. You furrowed your eyebrows as you tried see what he was hold and finally saw a small remote concealed in his hand. 

     You moved your eyes to Hotch’s and blinked rapidly. You just hoped he would pick up on the Morse Code and get everyone out of the building. 

     “Let’s just talk this out, Joey,” Hotch started, “JJ get everyone out, I want to talk to Joey alone.” JJ furrowed her eyebrows at the man but he gave he a stern look as she understood and began to move the team out. 

     “No! Bring them back!” Joey yelled, “or she dies.” Spencer looked at JJ as she tried to get him to leave the building, but he refused to move so she quickly called Morgan who grabbed Reid as he struggled against him.

     “I can’t leave her!” he told them and Morgan ignored his pleas and called a couple SWAT members to help him with the genius. 

     “As much as I like her, I’ll do it,” Joey said as he continued to watch the men and women exist the building. “Bring them back!” Joey yelled as his grip on you faltered for a second which you took advantage of as you got out from his grasp and struggled to take the device from his hand. 

     “Go!” you yelled at Hotch but he jumped in and started to help you as the three of you wrestled and quickly the device was flung across the doorway to another room. You all freezed before you grabbed Hotch’s hand and dragged him towards the back of the building. 

     The team waited outside for Hotch and you as Reid screamed at Morgan, “you have to let me go back in there!”

     “You can’t Kid, you heard Hotch!” Morgan yelled back as the rest of the team cringed at the fight. “I know all of us want to go back in there, but we can’t! You gotta understand that, Kid!”

     “No! You don’t understand!” Spencer screamed, “she’s all I have! I didn’t even get to tell her that I love her! That I have been in love with her since that stupid dinner at that Thai restaurant in California!” 

     “That was two years ago...” JJ mumbled.

     “Yeah! Two years! I’ve only been with with her for a couple months now and I haven’t even told her!” Everyone’s hearts pained as they heard Spencer’s cries and saw the liquid that dripped down his cheeks. “I can’t-”

     All head turned as the house exploded a safe distance away from them. The orange flames roared as the team had their mouths’ open in shock.

     “No,” Rossi and JJ whispered at the same time. 

     Morgan’s grip on Reid was gone as he watched the flames and turned to Emily who had had disbelief and horror over her face. 

     Spencer’s mind raced a mile every second and now his mind was completely blank of everything but you. Your face, your smile, your eyes, your lips, your laugh, your touch, your everything. Spencer ran towards the flames as the team yelled after him. 

     “Spencer,” JJ’s voice breaking as she leaned into Rossi’s embrace. 

     “Kid. Come on, don’t do this,” Morgan called as Emily just watched in disbelief with a gaping mouth and teary eyes.

     Spencer didn’t care about their calls, he needed to find you. He scanned the firery rubble for any sign of you or Hotch, but there wasn’t any. Just ash and fallen wood covered in sweltering heat. “Y/N!” he yelled out, “Y/N! Hotch!” Spence continued to look through the wall of intense heat and for a second he saw a delicate hand reach up through the burning wood. “Y/N,” he whispered to himself as he began to walk through the blazing fire that threatened to burn his body and ruin his lungs. 

     He moved a piece of wood off of where he saw your hand and saw you and Hotch laying side by side. “Guys!” he screamed at his friends, “help!” The team gave each other confused faces before coming over to Spencer. JJ gasped as she saw your form next to Hotch’s as tears of joy spilled from her faces. Her and Emily joined hands as they worked to get the wood off of you. 

     “Medic!” Rossi yelled as people began to rush over to help. 

     Morgan and Reid worked to get a big piece of debris off of the two of you. Hotch’s eyes opened and he immediately looked to his side where you had been, holding his hand tightly. He coughed violently as the medics lifted him up and brought him to the ambulance. You blinked a few times and saw Spencer standing over you. 

     “Hey, can you hear me?” he asked as you gave him a thumbs up and he laughed at the simple gesture. He brought you up for and embrace as you struggled to keep your eyes open. The medic came over to you and began to carry you away as Spencer and the team followed you and Hotch to the ambulance. 

      “Can I?” he asked one of the nurses as she nodded and he climbed into the ambulance and held your hand as you drifted off to sleep.

***

     When you woke up, blinding lights had been the first thing you saw. The second was Spencer who was asleep in a chair next to your bed, his head resting on the bed and his fingers interlaced with your own. You blinked a few times and saw the rest of the team in the room with you. Hotch was in bed identical to yours, but he was up and had his eye focused on the TV in front of him. By his side was JJ and Morgan as the conversed with each other in hushed voices. Penny was writing in a card with a sparkling pink pen as she handed it off to Rossi who smiled lightly at her. Emily was just outside your room as you saw her talking with a nurse or doctor; rather it looked more like arguing.

     Derek glanced over to you briefly as he then turned back to JJ and then back to you. “You’re up,” he said quietly, a contrast to his usual booming voice. Everyone looked to you as you smiled.

     “You gave us quite a scare, Y/L/N,” Hotch said as you laughed quietly which then turned into a cough. 

     “Em! Get a nurse or doctor!” Penny exclaimed as Emily rushed and called a nurse in the hallway. JJ got up from her seat and made her way over to your bed.

     She examined your face before hugging you tightly. “God, you can never do that to us again,” she chuckled as you rubbed her back. You felt a few tears fall on your shoulders as JJ pulled away and wiped her cheeks. “He’ll be happy to see you,” she gestured to Spencer.

     “Glad to have you back, kiddo,” Rossi told you with a smile, “you need anything?” As soon as he said that a doctor walked into your room and started to go over your condition.

     “You are very lucky, Agent Y/L/N” she started, “you have a mild concussion and that wound on your abdomen will take some time to heal over. You received first and second degree burns all over your legs, arms, and torso, just like Agent Hotchner. Your eardrums are very fragile and I recommend no flying for at least 3 weeks. Your face has some minor bruising and cuts that should heal over time.” She set her chart down. “The both of you should be able to leave in a few days time, but for now just relax.”

     “Thank you,” you said as she smiled.

     “Dinner will be up in a few minutes,” with that she left and Morgan was seen grinning widely. 

     “What?” you said.

     “She didn’t mention one thing.” You furrowed your brows at his words and he started to rub his head which just made you more confused.

     “I have a concussion, you’re going to have to actually say it.” He laughed at your words.

     “Do you think pretty boy will like the new haircut?” he asked as it finally clicked and you ran your fingers through your hair. 

     “Oh my, God,” you said as everyone laughed. “Oh my, God!” you repeated as Emily handed you a mirror and as you brought it up to your face your jaw dropped. Your hair was cut in jagged parts, but none shorter than your chin. The team laughed as you continued to gape at your reflection.

     “Some of your hair ended up burning off, just a bit,” Emily said as you looked at her with wide eyes. She laughed as you began to laugh too and soon everyone joined in as you all smiled at your stupidly, funny haircut.

     Spencer rubbed his eyes as he saw your smiling face and immediately hugged you tightly. “Thank Goodness,” he whispered as he pulled back from the embrace. “Why are we laughing?” he asked as you gestured towards your hair and smiled widely at the tall man.

     “Is this gonna be a deal breaker, babe?” his cheeks flushed at the nickname.

     He laughed a bit, “no, I still love you,” he said as the team froze at what he said as did he.

     “Awh, I love you more, Spence,” you told him without skipping a beat as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

     “Even if you do kinda look like David Bowie,” he said as you opened your mouth and smacked his arm playfully.

     “Spencer Reid!”

And Hell is Just a Sauna -- Part One

Fandom: Marvel/MCU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Natasha Romanoff, Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff, OMC Joseph

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 6,121

Format: Short Series (Complete)

Warnings: Language, violence, references to captivity, implied abuse, angst.

Summary: You meet Bucky Barnes upon your mysterious and deadly escape from a power obsessed cult leader and his followers. Though you carry a secret in addition to the wariness of trauma, you can’t help your attraction to Bucky and his irascible demeanor. As for Bucky, he is drawn to the light he sees in you while he fears the things you’re hiding. Can you trust him with your secrets, and your life? Will you have a choice?

A/N: I haven’t posted anything in five months, so this may be a little on the odd side. I guess I’m working through some stuff? 

This takes place in between Black Panther and Infinity War but is not consistent with MCU canon because I do what I want. 

I used my old taglist, but only as a way to let y’all know I’m posting again. As always, feel free to ignore me. 😊 Heads up, future parts will get smutty.

 Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four

  And Hell is Just a Sauna -- Part One

 The first time Bucky saw you, you were literally on fire. Not just a little flame, either, but a full-on conflagration engulfing your entire body and crackling with cheerful menace. You’d turned to him, your eyes blazing white in a face painted in flame, and intoned with a voice that both popped and roared.

“Are you a god?”

Bucky’s eyes widened over the barrel of the gun he continued to keep trained on you despite his uncertainty that it could do any good should you decide to attack. Unsure how to prevent that decision, but wanting to try, he responded slowly. “I have no idea how to answer that.”

From the woods around him, Bucky heard a shout. He stood at the edge of a clearing in which you stood at the center, a scatter of charred bodies surrounding you. He went no closer, not willing to discover the hard way what your range was.

Sam was yelling as he walked closer, “Ray, when someone asks you if you’re a god, you say, ‘Yes!’”

Bucky was fascinated to see blue flames dance along your teeth as you smiled. He couldn’t explain it, but something about the way the flames whipped and whirled around you was unbelievably beautiful. It was also incredibly terrifying, but Bucky had needed to survive horrors best left undefined, so had long since learned to find the beauty in terror. In the next moment, Sam was stepping into view on the other side of the clearing, his own gun out and ready.

You turned, and with a happy, surprised sob, cried, “Sam!?” The next moment, the fire was flickering into nothing and you were just a lovely woman wearing nothing more than the ash from what had once been a long white dress.

Sam immediately holstered his gun and ran forward. “Y/N? We knew there were prisoners but--"

"Sam," you whispered brokenly as you stumbled on knees turned to jelly toward the concerned face of your friend and former colleague. You hadn't seen him since before your abduction, not long after that last doomed mission in Lagos. When he'd gone on the run with Captain America after the fallout over the Accords, you'd been nothing but happy to hear that he was alive and free. His face was one of the last you’d expected to see upon your escape, but the sight of Sam was a joyous relief.

"What are you doing here?" Your teeth chattered on the question, reaction and your own nakedness leaving you freezing and shaking. You didn't see where the silver emergency blanket came from, but Sam was nevertheless wrapping you in it and then in his own arms, to your everlasting gratitude. You'd never been anything more than friends, but he'd always been a true and loyal one, with a giving heart and wicked sense of humor.

You let him comfort you, the bone-shattering terror of your ordeal hitting you now that it was over. Now that someone you knew and trusted held you, the sick horror of what you'd endured sent tears flooding into your throat. The exhaustion of everything you'd done that day turned your muscles to water and so you didn't resist when Sam bent and slid his arm behind your knees to lift and carry you out of the clearing where you'd hurt so many. Instead, you buried your face in the crook where his neck met his shoulder and let the tears fall.

"Do me a favor and tell the others I've found Y/N Y/L/N and that I'm taking her back to the jet."

Bucky had lowered his weapon when the fire had flickered out with your recognition of Sam, but his eyes were still narrowed with a hint of suspicion. He was pretty sure you weren't a danger to Sam, at least, but that didn't mean he thought you harmless. He nodded slowly and lifted his microphone to his lips to report in even as he fell into step behind Sam as he headed back the way they'd came.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Sam said gently as he walked briskly back to the jet, "but do you know who is in charge of all of this?"

"Joseph." Your voice was a rasp with the tears that still shivered out of you, but all of the emotion had left your tone. "I don't think he survived."

Bucky glanced back at the clearing where they'd left a half dozen charred bodies and figured he knew how Joseph had met his end. When he turned back, you were peeking over Sam's shoulder at him, to his admitted consternation.

"I'm sorry about the dumb joke." The emotion was back, remorse in your eyes and tone as you looked at him. "I wanted to either make you laugh or scare you. I just didn't want to hurt anyone else." With that, you buried your face back in Sam's throat and started crying again.

Bucky tried to resist but his heart throbbed in sympathy, with understanding. He knew all about being forced to do things he didn't want to, both by cruelty and circumstance. He'd be the last to blame another for what they'd done to escape. He was concerned about your apparent propensity for bursting into flame, but he understood why you'd done so, since you could.

"He probably hasn't seen Ghostbusters, sweetheart." You lifted your head, a frown on your tear-streaked face to glare with narrow-eyed suspicion at Bucky, who was at a complete loss as to what the two of you were even talking about. Sam laughed when he saw your face and went on. "This is Bucky Barnes."

Your face cleared in understanding and Bucky wondered who you were that you recognized his name so quickly. "Welcome back, Sergeant," you said softly, with a shy smile that Bucky couldn't help but find charming even as he wondered who you were and how you seemed to know so much about him when he'd never heard your name before.

"At least now I know why we're here," Sam called back to Bucky, his voice cheerful as he tramped back towards the jet. "Nat's got a soft spot for this one; I'm willing to bet she had an idea we'd find Y/N."

Bucky murmured as he kept his eyes on yours from where they peeked over Sam's shoulder at him. "I didn't know we were looking for Y/N."

"I was part of the supply chain." You didn't like the wariness with which this man watched you, but you could hardly blame him, considering your introduction. You weren't normally so dramatic, but he couldn't know that. "Natasha would have noticed when I disappeared."

Sam shook his head with a smile and moved toward the edge of the forest, now in sight. "Why am I not surprised? Were you Nat's secret source?"

"Of course." You couldn't seem to stop looking at the man following you and Sam with such deadly grace and aloof readiness. You'd never seen anyone look so dangerously bored. You were damned if you didn't find it sexy as hell. "She asked me if I wanted to help and I said yes. The Accords are a human rights violation."

Bucky's eyes flicked to yours and warmed as the corner of his mouth lifted just a little. Your heart skipped in the first beat of attraction as Sam laughed out loud. The sound had you smiling even as he replied, "Like I said, not surprised." He turned his head to call over his shoulder, "Bucky, this is Y/N. She used to be support staff for the Avengers, was one of the researchers there. She helped me when Steve and I were looking for you."

Bucky bent his head in acknowledgement and smiled fully for the first time. Now that he had more of a handle on things, he could roll with them. And he'd ever been the sort willing to go the extra mile for a pretty woman. "Pleasure to meet you," he rumbled, and sounded like he meant it.

You thought about the sacrificial dress you'd been wearing when the fire had blown through and carried you out of the building, remembered the fear in the eyes of the henchmen sent to recapture you as they'd circled you like a pack of wild dogs. "Believe me. The pleasure's mine."

As Sam broke through the tree line where the quinjet that had brought them sat, the little bottle blonde assassin behind the controls, he turned to catch your eye. "So, Y/N, are you gonna tell me how you're a firestarter now?"

Natasha turned in her chair at the sound of his voice as they mounted the ramp into the jet. "Good, you found her," she said briskly with a gentle smile for you. You smiled weakly back as Sam set you down in one of the chairs. Natasha turned back around and continued, "Strap in. Steve and Wanda are almost back and I want to be in the air five seconds after that."

Bucky's eyes flicked to you in puzzlement at the sound of a soft hiss, like that of a snake, followed by a crackle or a popping noise. He may have looked elsewhere, but you'd made a soft shushing noise that drew his eye.

That shushing sound was followed by a tired sigh when Sam lifted a brow at you as he went about helping you rearrange the blanket so you could strap in but remain covered. "I wish I knew, Sam," you replied to that lifted brow and Bucky wished he knew why he didn't believe you.

You sat in the sand and watched the ocean crash against the shore, letting the sound soothe you. Feeling hot and itchy most days, thanks to your experience at the hands of the weird cult that had abducted you, this was often the only peace you could find. Most days saw you driving down from the house in the mountains to sit here and let the wind and the waves ease your mind and soothe the soul.

Today, however, you couldn’t seem to settle, upset by the conversation you’d had with Steve that morning. He’d wanted to apologize for overstaying their welcome, and assure you they’d be moving on soon.

After your rescue, they had come to stay with you in the house you’d inherited from your uncle. Tucked away in the heavily forested mountains of Oregon’s Coastal Range, it was big, secluded, and ideal for hiding five fugitives. You’d simply been happy to help, to give them a safe place to rest.

Now you were dealing with the fact that you didn’t want them to leave. You were chilled, sick at the thought of rattling around in the big house with nothing for company but your thoughts and the memory of what had happened in a house in upstate New York. You may have traveled three thousand miles to escape what had happened that night, but you couldn't escape what was now yours, whether you'd wanted it or not.

The soft hiss in your ear warned you that someone was approaching, but you were surprised when that someone flopped onto the cool sand next to you with a huff of irritation. "Huh. What a shitty day at the beach."

Damned if you knew why the surly bitch did it for you, but Bucky Barnes had charmed the fuck out of you by not being the least bit charming.

He wasn't mean, or rude, not by a long shot. He was unfailingly kind and polite and genuinely grateful for the shelter. You could see the good man underneath the pissiness, but Bucky was perpetually baffled and annoyed by most of the world around him. He never complained, really, but he regarded everything with a vaguely hostile skepticism. You could not understand why you thought him adorably sexy, the big, grumbly bastard.

"Good thing we’re not at the beach," you replied with a laughing sneer, your habitual attitude towards him as it prompted that ridiculous half-smile. You fucking adored that sly smirk. "We’re on a beach. We’re at the coast."

Bucky gave you his amused disgust face and made you melt. He picked up a handful of sand and held it up to let it run through his fingers in a rather accusatory fashion. You waved him away. "I would think a Broody McBrooderface like yourself would immediately get this."

You gestured at your surroundings, a lonely beach on a winter day in the Pacific Northwest. Clouds covered the sky and boiled over the sea, turning the waves into a stormy bluish gray that reflected in the eyes of the man that watched you with a reluctant fascination. The wind whipped around you both, tumbling his hair around his sculpted face and making you think of the covers of trashy romance novels from an earlier era. Moody and bleak, a cold winter day at the coast was made for Bucky Barnes.

A long, charged pause as he stared at your profile in disgusted astonishment.

"What?"

You couldn't stop the snort at the sound of pure stupified horror in his voice. You didn't know which part of what you said he found objectionable, but the insult of something clearly offended him. You didn't usually get this much reaction out of him, so you had to assume it was the new nickname.

"The beach," you replied snottily, "is where you go to relax in the sun or swim in the ocean." You tilted your head to fix him with an intense stare. "But we’re in the ring of fire, Bucky, and the ocean doesn’t play with the shore here. We’re at the coast, where the sea meets the land with force." You gestured out at the dark waves as they continued to crash and pound on the sand, curls of violent energy breaking upon the shore. "The beach is for fun; the coast is where you go to brood."

With that, you uncrossed your arms and placed your hands at your sides on the cold, dry sand behind you, bracing yourself as you leaned back, a smirk on your lips. You loved informing him of opinions as though you had just bested him with facts. The way his lips tightened when he was holding back laughter made your heart gallop.

Your breathing joined your heart in its race and sped as well when Bucky's eyebrow quirked in addition to the happiness that gathered in the corners of his lips. "Broody McBrooderface?" he asked, doubt collecting in his eyes and his furrowed brow. His voice was still rich with the disgust that had characterized his earlier question. The combination made you sputter with mirth before giving up and dissolving into a fit of laughter. You fell back onto the sand to wrap your hands around your middle and hold on as you cackled and snickered.

When you calmed enough to look at Bucky, he'd shifted so that he was leaning on one arm, turned towards you to grin delighted at your laughter. He was so pretty, white teeth against the dark brown of his beard, thick hair tumbled in the wind around him. You hoped you didn't look as starry eyed as you felt. Some days it was harder than others to not bodily tackle the man, but it seemed tacky, not to mention gross, to accost a houseguest.

His satisfied smirk turned into a look so hot with promise you could feel it in your toes. "So you don't wanna go skinny dipping?"

You laughed even as you cringed, your body tightening at the memory of underestimating the Pacific Ocean's wilder moods on visits to your uncle during your childhood. You shook your head as a chill at the thought ran down your spine. "I double-dog dare you to jump in that water." Bucky crooked another brow and then surprised you by leaping to his feet in a move shockingly graceful in its deadly arc. He was off in a run in the very next second towards the waves. You sat up to shout after him but he was faster than you'd thought possible. "But don’t say I didn’t warn you about the FROSTBITE!"

If he hesitated for a second, you didn't see it. Fully clothed in the athletic wear he’d donned to run down to the beach, he leapt over a terrifying curving beast of a wave into the now dark gray and, you expected, freezing cold water. You got to your feet to follow him to the edge where the sea lapped at the shore, a little wary to find out how the grumpy super-soldier would react to the Pacific's bite.

The two of you argued all the way back to your car.

"The least you could do is give me a ride back to the house." Bucky didn't seem like the water had really fazed him beyond pissing him off. He wasn't shivering, his teeth weren't chattering, but his jaw was set in severe irritation and his eyes blazed with banked anger. He was so fucking hot it made you crazy.

"My seats will get soaked." You couldn't help it; he was so sexy when he looked like he wanted to murder the world. You didn't know what was wrong with you, but the way he was striding up the beach toward the parking lot where you'd left your car made you shudder with lust. You had to fuck with him a little more, irritate him just that little bit extra. Maybe it was because of what had happened to you, but you needed to toss a little more gasoline on the fire. "I only brought a towel for sand, not for swimming. Besides, I told you it was cold as fuck; you jumped in anyway."

"I can't run home like this, I'm fucking freezing." The look Bucky shot you was so vicious, your heart kicked in response, but in desire rather than fear. He was perfectly bristly and annoyed now, his bright blue eyes blazing and his sculpted cheeks flushed with temper. You could eat him alive.

"You should have thought of that before you jumped in an ocean that is obviously not into your shit right now.” You deliberately kept your tone and demeanor casual as you stopped at the water fountain at the top of the beach to rinse the sand off your feet. “It's not like I would have thought less of you if you'd stopped when I warned you about how cold it was."

Mostly clean and aware based on experience that mostly clean was the best you were going to do, you dropped the rubber flip-flops in your hand and slipped your wet feet into them as Bucky glared at you.

“I would have thought less of me,” he replied with a sneer that made you want to lean in and bite his plump lower lip. “I took a dare. I'll finish a dare.”

Unable to help yourself, you burst into delighted laughter, throwing your head back in the pure enjoyment of him as you nearly stumbled down the sidewalk toward your car. Bubbling and cheerful, the warm chuckles poured out of you until Bucky was grinning at you, albeit reluctantly.

You were somewhat calm by the time you got to your car. You turned to Bucky with a sparkling smile, the laughter still trembling on your lips and Bucky’s heart kicked in response this time.

“You’re fun, Bucky.” You leaned against the driver’s side door and grinned at him over the roof of the car. “A little bonkers, but fun.” Shooting him a sassy wink, you opened the door and slid in. “Fine, get in the car."

“I know this is a big ask.”

Bucky was sweating, but he was determined not to let you see that. He was asking a lot of you and he knew it. If he didn’t believe it was important, for you as well as himself, he’d never have had the courage.

“I’m really more confused.” Bucky made himself stop watching the way your lips shaped the words when you spoke, your eyes wary and your brow furrowed. “If you don’t mind me asking, why don’t you want to go with them?”

He didn’t think you’d noticed how he watched you, fascinated by the curving whip of your movements, like flame had become part of you. He couldn’t help but focus on you, obsessed with both the magic and mystery of you. How could he stop himself when he could also hear your mutters under your breath? He was concerned yet intrigued by the admonishments to behave yourself.

He’d had numerous fantasies about misbehaving with you.

Bucky’s attention moved to the way your fingers fidgeted with the book in your lap. He couldn’t explain why, but he loved to watch you move. There was a grace and beauty there that he’d rarely seen and always treasured. He’d seen too much ugly and cruel to take anything as pretty or as kind as you were for granted. He'd made a study of you because it soothed him somehow to do so.

Your hands weren't fidgeting in agitation, concern, or fear; all of which he'd seen and memorized. Through trial and error he'd learned how to distract you from whatever had you picking at your cuticles in anxiety and, sometimes, something that looked perilously close to panic, but he could see that wasn't necessary now. You were fidgeting absently, the same way you had been for the entire conversation, not in response to his request.

Bucky was still a little struck by his daring in asking if he could stay when the others moved on. He hadn't known if he'd have the nerve when he walked to the little library where you often sat in the window seat so you could read with your face to the mountain air coming through the open window. But when you'd looked up with a smile when he'd poked his head in and asked for a minute, he'd known even if you said no, he could trust you to be gentle.

"I don’t want to fight anymore."

By the way your eyebrows flew up and your lips parted before you paused, Bucky could see that you were as surprised by the blunt honesty of his answer as he was. But he was asking a lot of you and he knew it. Harboring an international fugitive was only the least of it. You knew his reputation, and that it was based on fact, yet you'd welcomed him into your home. He had to be honest with you if he was going to ask anything more than that already unimaginable kindness.

He smiled at you, but he couldn't stop the sadness, the exhaustion of a century's worth of years from quivering around his mouth. Your eyes, scanning his face under those expressive eyebrows, softened and your lips twisted with wry sympathy. "Of course you don't. Why would you?"

Bucky relaxed back into the plush little sofa where he'd taken the seat you'd offered when he started this conversation. He now knew it was going to be reasonably painless. Something about you almost always put him at ease within only a few minutes in your company. Maybe it was the way you listened to him, both the things he said, and the things he could only speak around.

Somehow he always ended up saying more than he'd intended.

"I didn’t volunteer, you know." You tilted your head in question, so he continued, not sure where the words were coming from. "Not like Steve, who wanted in so bad he kept trying to get past the physical. I was drafted." Bucky laughed a little and lifted his hands to rub them over his face, dragging them through his hair before threading his fingers together behind his head. "I just wanted to settle down to a normal life and try to keep my best friend from dying from one of the thousand things trying to kill him. Instead…" As he trailed off he shrugged and noticed your eyes drop to his chest in what he would swear was appreciation.

The corner of Bucky's mouth was lifting in a crooked half-smile when your eyes flicked to his. Bright and intense, he felt pinned by your gaze as the still forming grin fell from his face. "Instead you got to be a prisoner of war for sixty-odd years," you said, your voice full of the wry sympathy that still lived in the slight curve to your lips, "only to discover that things are still trying to kill your best friend?" In the next instant, that searing stare was gentle with understanding, your eyes warm with concern. "You're a little fucking tired?"

Bucky huffed out another of those little laughs, the only kind he really had these days. A little fucking tired was an understatement if he'd ever heard one, but the fact that you saw that so easily explained why he was even asking this of you. "You get it," he said, that half-smile coming back in a sweeter form. "That's why I'd like to stay here, actually." Your lips had started to curve in response to the little half-laugh, even that much heard only occasionally, when the warmth in his face sparked an answer in yours, charming you with the little glimpse of sweetness under all the salt.

Bucky's breath caught a little at the look on your face, the way the movement of your hands had smoothed as you absently toyed with the hardback still in your lap. He could see you relax by degree in his presence and wondered if you were as soothed by his company as he was by yours. "I don't want you to think you have to say yes," he heard coming out of his mouth, more honesty he couldn't help, but he didn't want you to feel pressured. "I'd rather stay here in the States, but I'm not homeless if it doesn't work for you. If it's a no, I promise, no hard feelings. I have another option lined up. I understand if you don't want to stay alone with a man you barely know."

He was starting to worry based on the soft, gentle look that remained on your face. You normally smirked and teased him, poking at his gruff exterior with a playfulness that had charmed him completely. You may not have known it, but you had him firmly wrapped around your fingers. This tenderness made him afraid you were about to let him down easy. He braced himself for rejection.

"Alright," you murmured thoughtfully, your eyes kind if shrewd as they rested on his face. He wondered what you saw when you looked at him, how much you saw beneath the surface. "If you wanna stay, we'll have to have a few ground rules, a couple of understandings."

Bucky's face lit up in surprised delight as his heart began to pound. He hadn't really expected you to say yes, and so hadn't prepared for the rush of excitement and satisfaction that ran through him at the prospect of getting to know you without feeling like he was being watched by his friends. His heart speeding a little, a hot shudder of anticipation working through him at the prospect, he shot you a bright and reckless grin. "I was afraid you were gonna say that."

Something dark and hungry moved in a flash over your face. Bucky's heart raced in answer despite his uncertainty that he'd even seen the lightning fast emotion. He wanted to be your friend first, but he couldn't deny he'd found inside himself a well of desire for you so deep he'd yet to find the bottom. He could only hope you felt some fraction of that for him.

"First and most important understanding," as you spoke your eyes flattened and your mouth tightened, your gaze on his face reminding him of the first time he'd seen you, "I am not afraid of you." The words were a warning, not a threat, but the hair on the back of Bucky's neck stood up. "If you're going to live here for the foreseeable," you continued, your face softening again into something lonely and sad, "I need to be clear on this point. I have no reason, whatsoever, to be afraid for my own safety. Not anymore."

The hollow tone to your voice was a chilling counterpoint to the fingers wrapped in white-knuckled terror around your book. Bucky could see you were trying to tell him that you were still dangerous, despite how deceptively harmless you looked when not bathed in flame.

"The fire?" Bucky didn't know he still had that much tenderness inside him for anyone, but he could hear the gentle sympathy in the two words clearly. By the tentative smile teasing the corners of your mouth, you could hear it, too.

"I would tell you if I thought you weren't safe." You looked sick with worry that he'd reject you and Bucky could see that he was right; the two of you needed each other. You went on in a little rush, your eyes dipping to your hands still clutching the book in your lap. You frowned as you spoke and he watched you deliberately uncurl your fingers as though you were carefully calming yourself. "I don't believe you're in any danger here. I will absolutely tell you if that changes."

Bucky always preferred when people were matter of fact in their questions about him and his issues. He figured he should start there and see how you responded. "Can you control it?" he asked, his voice unconcerned, his posture unchanging from his easy sprawl against the corner of the couch.

Apparently, you also liked plain speaking as you smiled a little more, this time with a wry exasperation that piqued his interest. "Some. More persuade."

Bucky's heart throbbed as he asked the question he knew you'd least like to answer. He wished he didn't feel like he had to, but he needed to know how not to incite the blaze. His voice soft as a whisper, as tender as a touch, "What set it off that night?"

The look on your face sent a chill down Bucky's spine, your eyes empty and cold and nothing like the warmth he'd come to expect and adore. Your voice as hollow as he'd ever heard it, you answered with just enough information to somewhat explain. "Joseph was going to hurt me."

Upon your recovery from the forest surrounding the house in upstate New York where you'd been held against your will, it had become clear that you'd been snatched up by one of the occult offshoots that often split from HYDRA. As HYDRA was itself founded as an occult offshoot of the Nazi war machine, it wasn't really a surprise that it so often shed more of the same. The one that had taken you, however, had apparently been particularly weird and cultish, the leader, Joseph, convinced of his own superiority and seeking the power he believed to be his due. You hadn't spoken much of what had happened to you while held captive by them, by him, but Bucky could recognize pain and trauma when they were right in front of him.

"Since I won't be hurting you," he said gently, the words both reassurance and promise, "it shouldn't be a problem." When your eyes, blurred with memory, focused back in on his face, Bucky's lips curved slightly, the smile sweeter than any he'd given you yet.

Your lips curved in response as a soft sigh that didn't come from you whispered at the edge of Bucky's hearing. His ears perked even as he kept his eyes on yours, his expression betraying nothing but the warm appreciation he always had for you. The next moment, however, his attention was caught and held by the grin you flashed, sparkling and friendly. "That's what I was thinking," you chirped and looked happier than he'd ever seen you.

The sight had his body tightening in lust even as his heart squeezed. Bucky had always been a romantic with a love of making a pretty girl smile. Being able to make you smile like this made him feel like he was getting another piece of himself back. Still, he wanted you to know that you could trust him with more than just your physical safety.

"Do you wanna tell me about it?" he offered, his voice gentle again.

"Maybe," you said, and Bucky cursed himself when your smile dimmed. You shrugged and looked back down at your hands where they'd tried to tense around the book. "I might need to. You gonna tell me about you?"

"Some." He answered quickly, without hesitation, though he grinned sheepishly when your eyes lifted to his in suspicion. "Probably."

When your eyes remained narrowed on his even as the corners of your mouth twitched with suppressed humor, Bucky narrowed his eyes back at you. To his surprised delight, that sparkling smile came back. You stretched the denim clad legs you'd had curled under you out and relaxed into the pillow at your back.

"Then rule number one," you said cheerily, an interesting heat in your eyes, "is that you continue to be your usual hostile self. It revs my engine." The cheer on your face took on a darker edge, your smile more like a dare. Bucky's eyes narrowed once again, but this time his gaze glittered with desire, with the urge to take that dare.

"Does it?"

You bit your lower lip as his voice rumbled through the air and into you. Bucky could swear he saw goosebumps erupt over the skin of your arms when he spoke, the desire riding him clear in that quiet question.

You laughed, a little breathless, and grinned at him, a cheeky taunt all over you. He was dazzled by the flash of your smile, the sparkle in your eyes, the whipping movements of your hands as you gestured while you spoke. "Rule number two is that you make yourself at home." You pointed a mock stern finger at him and made him smile. "Don't be a houseguest or stand on ceremony. I want you to be genuinely comfortable. If you have to stay under house arrest for now, you should be able to do so as painlessly as possible."

There you went being sweet and kind in addition to being sexy and adorable. Bucky didn't know if he could take it. He was beginning to think he was in over his head but he couldn't find a thing not to like about it.

"Steve keeps me in line." Bucky smirked as he teased. "Once he's gone I'll make you regret that."

You looked delighted with him and Bucky could have wept with gratitude. Spending time with you was helping him remember parts of himself he'd thought long dead, like the boyish flirt he'd once been, but he was equally grateful that he seemed to be good for you, too.

"Okay," you purred as you smirked back at him, "in case Steve has kept you in line in other ways, rule three is you clean up after yourself. I will be very annoyed if you start leaving dirty dishes or clothes around once he's gone." One eyebrow lifted in mock warning and Bucky could have cuddled you.

"He’s the slob, actually." Bucky huffed out a laugh and shook his head. "You're making this too easy, doll."

He couldn't be sure, but for a moment you looked shy and a little vulnerable. Bucky's heart squeezed again as he quivered with the conflicting desires to both ravage and protect. When you glanced at him from under bashful lashes, he felt torn between.

"Am I?" The murmur of your voice was rich with something dark and exciting, something that lit up his ear and made his stomach tighten.

Bucky's voice was husky on his reply as he offered both clarification and escape route. He wanted everything on the table before the negotiations came to a close. "Any other rules?" His face spread in a hot, almost feral grin, one that left no doubts as to what rules he was asking about. "Any other lines you don’t want crossed?"

The corner of your mouth lifted in a grin equally hungry, equally reckless. "Nothing comes to mind." Your eyes reminded him of sultry whispers, heated words. "I think we can play it by ear from there."

Bucky felt his heart race in exhilaration and wondered what he'd gotten himself into. He couldn't wait to find out. "I’m happy to dance to your tune."

Part Two here >>

Taglist:

@hellzzzbelle @bucky-the-thigh-slayer @cheekygeek05 @lbouvet @diinofayce @bibliophile1773 @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @miraclesoflove @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @destiel-is--endgame​ @irritated-bisexual​ @peaceinourtime82​ @badassbaker​ @walkingtravesty97​ @fashionworld12​ @readermia​

That Krispy Cat: A Warning, part 3

The last of the images cause I don’t want this bitch on my computer anymore. 

Knowing tumblr I kept the images hidden JUUUUST in case no one reads the fine print and can’t tell I’m being critical of this and gets me in trouble.

VVV ((Just in case you thought the JewishGriffon piece assured everyone that Crispy couldn’t POSSIBLY hate people of color, some of her earliest Nazi art had her character Klaus beating up Amigo Bear. She also made Amigo into a liberal strawman. )) VVV

((Dialogue to one of her TROLLARIOUS pictures that featured Amigo:

Amigo Bear: *muttering* "Your leader was a !@#$% little #@%^!@$^*!, you fascist feather duster..." General Klaus: "Fräulein, Ich vant you to cover your ears und shut your eyes as tight as you can." Crispy: "How come, General?" General Klaus: "Klaus ist about to say und do very bad sings zhat he does not vant his little Edelweiß to see or hear." Crispy: "Alrighty!" General Klaus: "WHO SAID ZHAT ABOUT DER FÜHRER? WER DIE FICK GESAGT? WHO'S ZUH SCHLEIMIG LITTLE COMMUNIST-SCHEISS SCHWANZLUTSCHER DOWN ZHERE, WHO JUST SIGNED HIS OWN DEATH VARRANT? NIEMAND?! GOTTVERDAMMT STALIN SAID IT! HERVORRAGEND! VHICH VUN OF YOU VANTS TO BE ZUH FIRST TO FIND OUT ZUH HARD VAY VHY MEIN FEINDE CALLED MIR DER BUTCHER BIRD?" ))

^^^ ((BUTOPHERARTISGOODSOYOUCAN’TCOMPLAIN

also the disc. for this pic before it was deleted had a ‘joke’ about cooking Jews in ovens. Oh and yes, that IS Hitler she’s giving that ugly ass cupcake too.))

^^^ (( - Thanks dA I never would have known I had a notifications unless eclipse blah -

This is one of her rants about how #Triggered she is that Starlight be compared to the Nazis when she runs a communist cult. Because A) that’s the real problem here and B) I too get upset when people say my OC is based on Jeffrey Dahmer when he’s so CLEARLY based on Ed Gein, Bwwwaaaah D> D> D> !)) ^^^

VVV ((Ugly art of her friend’s awful OCs.)) ^^^

VVV ((Crispy showing off why no one wants to be a patriot in our country.)) VVV

((FYI, Crisp, that attitude will make the Hamilton fans stronger so just keep that SJW-flinging coming you little SJW.

WHAT?! Social Justice is a broad term and as Crispy’s plainly demonstrated, you can circle it around and make a majority-class sound like the real underprivledged if you have enough fancy frou frou know-how and furries. Also, if a Social Justice Warrior constitutes someone who takes their cause soooo seriously that they’re annoying/petting/cruel/stupid about it....idk I think Crispy qualified.))

^^^ ((Crispy and her friend muse about what other races occupy the world of MLP in her headcanon. This, more than any other dA disc. and picture shows you her brand of “Segregationist-Nationalism is OKAY” thinking, cuz the art of these different races isn’t super offensive or cruel and neither are the characters. BUT if you scratch under the surface you’ll find that Crispy really likes these different people staying in their place and not in “someone else’s” country.

THEN, this same kind of thinking is used to convince you any mix of cultures is just cultural appropriation, again acting like she and her Nazi-stans are the only ones standing up to actual bigotry.)) VVV

^^^ ((Crispy makes the world a worse place by bringing up actual decent points; like how Americans dress Thanksgiving up as progressive and for the natives when we all know that’s not true...all to better her worldview.

fyi, GET OUT whenever you see a selfproclaimed Nazi fawn over Native Americans, because: Nazi Germany had a deep fascination with American Indians and used their struggles about their land being taken away from them to justify their eugenic genocide.)) ^^^

^^^ (( Crispy laughing it up on Furaffinity how she couldn’t be banned from her Furaffinity and then mysteriously never using her site there wowie.)) ^^^

^^^ (( Crispy complaining about SOPA cause her freedom of speech and blahblahblah.

Freedom of Speech is important. Unfortunately what people like Crispy don’t understand or care for is there’s no freedom of consequence. )) vvv

VVV ((LOL Joseph Mengele was such a stinkah let’s tell blithe jokes about him. At least WE AREN’T LIKE HIM!!!)) VVVV

VVV ((Early onset eugenic BS from her Spyro stuff that would be easy to miss if you didn’t know what this woman was talking about)) VVV

((Crispy admitting she thinks gays are pointless cuz they don’t reproduce but apparently loves them anyway. Also big shock Crispy’s seen Hetalia.)) VVV

VVV ((Crispy probably wanting Weeaboos to attack her cuz aren’t Japan’s animations so laaaaaaazy?!!?!? GUUdd think’ I’m a naziaboo! Germany’s never made any shitty animation evah. You know what, I lied. She doesn’t deserve Hetalia. She just doesn’t.)) VVVV

VVV ((Crispy dragging Brazil down with her as the apparent “Best South American Country”. Yikes.)) VVV

VVV ((More “it’s trolling ergo it’s not harmful” shit. Bulgarians probably do deserve their own Care Bears, but they certainly don’t want yours Crispy.)) VVV

VVV ((Disc. for her Richard Spencer bear art)) VVV

------

I know, I know...this isn’t what you wanted to read today, guys. I know it’s offensive and I’m sorry if it made you ill. I also know I’m putting my own blog under fire by showing these images here but I think that should say something about dA’s bad policies that this art gets a filter slapped on it and nothing more when the artist is blatantly pro-fascist.

Crispy resonates with me so much - and no it’s not cause I DARED to be “triggered”.

It’s because, for one, she was talented. I MEAN I HAVE EYES! That’s some nicely drawn digital stuff I’m not gonna deny. She had some cool rewrites and sequel ideas that, had it come from someone else I would have eaten up and faved to hell and back onceupona2012. But I didn’t, where a ton of MLP and furry fans did because they undervalued their own talents and would say “well it’s pretty who cares about the message?” 

Unlike so many commercial+published artists, it’s REALLY hard to separate the art from the artist here because the artist is so connected and a part of her art and storytelling. If you fav her art, even if you didn’t like her, that was telling Crispy she’d won. It’s so defeating to have other artists say their gonna ignore their gut for the sake of prettypretty-Don-Bluth style art. And yes, that stigma DOES affect my view on 2D purists btw.

Crispy was so holier than thou’, and that attitude also was appealing to dA folks, not to mention her knowledge of art history by the time she dropped off the radar. Crispy was the kind of person who’d make long, detailed, justified rants against the design and color choices in Hazbin Hotel and then a bunch of antis would eat her redesigns up only to learn the awful truth later and embarrass themselves cuz they were so taken up by the craft they didn’t know they were reblogging a fucking Nazi.

Not to underplay Viv’s wrongdoings of course, but I’m sorry; the two aren’t comparable on the problematic artist meter. THAT’S HOW BAD CRISPY WAS.

If this somehow was just a faze and she’s come to her senses or doesn’t really think this shite she preaches...I don’t care. She said some vile shit and fuck no I’m not forgiving her. It’s like KenDraw or Shadman. You’ve changed your life around and realized you’ve done/drawn nasty shit that’s done real harm? Cool....I’m still not talking or ever promoting you, ya dingbat. You ain’t no Roman Polanski or Doug Tennaple. You’re a singular internet artist and any support of the project has to go to you - and you suck!

ThisCrispyKat was a wakeup call that showed me these people not only still exist but will be allowed to get away with it. I was very touchy bout this kind of thing back in the day. Fuck, I STILL AM TOUCHY. The rabbit holes I found thanks to Crispy opened up to reveal communities where people think my hair color’s going extinct. People would detail how much they wanted to rape me - a natural blonde - and kill my friends and family for not looking like me. That they want to jerk off in my naturally curly hair and see me in glowy German princess gowns preparing them dinner.

Crispy and other Nazistans would look at me; a blond-haired blue eyed Polish/German American woman and think I need to be “fixed” because I DARE to repeat propaganda that the Nazis were bad. They’d call me a traitor for thinking that celebrating the Nazi party ISN’T German pride.

HOW DARE YOU TELL ME THAT’S GERMAN PRIDE! I’LL SHOW YOU GERMAN PRIDE YOU EGOSTROKING-LIMPDICKED ATTENTION WHORES.

People like Crispy make it 1000x harder to actually show interest in German things. Because I AM interested in German shit btw.

Like for real: it’s a country I’d love to visit one day (at least the black forest, which is where my mom’s fam comes from). I love German art and German fairytales slap. I really do want to explore my heritage through art and stuff.

But guess what? Much as Crispy would argue to the contrary I DO know my WWII history and beyond and FUCK YOU if you honestly think jerking it to cuddly Nazi-furs is empowering or just “showing your interest in history”. Take your own advice and read a god-damn book.

TL;DR: I DO NOT have to be proud of Nazis to enjoy German culture and if you think otherwise, FUCK YOU. It’s a slap in the face to everyone even if you are ‘just trolling’ and it in no way values actual German’s feeling on the matter. It’s annoying how people undervalue real people just for the sake of fan art.

The Nazis were evil. They were racist, eugenic-genocidal idiots who killed over six million Jewish people, Romani, Slavs, Jehovahs Witnesses, disabled people, Poles, homosexuals and prisoners of war. They would have killed my dad’s side of the family if they were in Poland at the time. They made bullshit tanks that killed the people making them and didn’t work on the battlefield. Their leader was a fat, farting one-testicaled bastard who preferred animals to people.

They ruined everything for everyone and then took the easy way out, leaving the Germans that were left in the hands of the also-genocidal Soviets and Americans. Germany is still paying their war debts and now, 70-80 years later everyone else wants to laugh off this dark period of history with memes and forget what they did, and as such, are forgetting the victims of the genocide.

I have 0 tolerance for Nazi things for the sake of HUMANITY, let alone the individual groups they target. I don’t have to have German ancestry or know a single Jewish person to tell you any of this. It’s fucking history.

Eat shit.

FAR CRY 5 HOLIDAY EXCHANGE 2019 FIC

(Hi, this is my main blog. I entered the exchange with my main blog another-bryk-in-the-wall!)

Love Is In The Bunker

Lisbet Bryan/Joseph Seed, mentions of the other Seed siblings

A little insight into the life of Lisbet “Bessie” Bryan, a deputy in Hope County with a weakness for a certain Joseph Seed. 

@bunnymoss

For BunnyMoss! Merry Christmas! I hope you enjoy what I have written for your Bessie! Damn, she was fun to write! xoxo Tani

Nobody really knew who Bessie actually was. Some described her as the angel sent from God himself, some said she was the devil in disguise. Nobody really knew - and she was just fine with this.

Not even Joseph, her secret lover, knew much about her. Some day she said she had been raised by her parents, some day she said she was all alone from day one, and on another day she said she grew up in a foster home. And truth be told - she didn’t remember much of her childhood.

The story of Joseph and Bessie was a wild and crazy one. The first time they met, Bessie had been sent to arrest him with Deputy Pratt, Hudson and their big boss, Whitehorse. From the moment they locked eyes, Bessie knew she wanted him. Joseph or nothing. The chopper crashed, the Deputy fled, but man, she had her fun with the leader of Eden’s Gate.

Her personal way of doting on him started out harmless. She left berries and other fruits from the forest on his front porch, one time even a crown she had made out of the flowers nearby. Joseph was greatly amused by the crown and wore it for the rest of the day.

But Joseph became curious - who had been sending these weird presents to him? Handmade, taken out of the woods…his first thought was on a prank from Jacob. That’s why he checked every berry three times before he ate it. The flower crown? That was more Faith’s way of telling someone something, especially when she hid little bugs in the flowers which would bite you at night - John had to learn this the hard way after eating her cookies. But John would never touch any of these “filthy” things, so Joseph’s hard guess was on Jacob or Faith.

Until one day. Another silo had been destroyed in John’s region, and the youngest Seed brother was fuming with anger. Joseph had gone there to calm him down, and when he came back to his compound, a letter was laying by his front door.

Come meet me, Josey, if you want to find out who sent you all these presents. don’t be shy. but no guards. you don’t want anyone to interrupt our fun. tomorrow in the old bunker by the river. i will wait there at 8pm. xoxo

Joseph never let his guard down, but this time, curiosity won over his fear and he went alone. He told his guards and followers that he was going on a nice long walk. They shouldn’t bother looking for him. He wanted to meditate along the way and did not need any kind of interruption.

Bessie went into the abandoned bunker at 7 pm. It had been her secret hiding spot from both the Cult and the Resistance. A place hidden away. A little bit of water was leaking in one corner, the bathroom contained a toilet, a sink and a shower. Two beds were next to each other and a tiny closet stored everything Bessie needed. By now, both the cult and the resistance annoyed her equally. Bessie here, Bessie there, Bessie please do this very dangerous mission because no one else is dumb enough to do it, blah blah blah. She hated it. And on the other side, the Cult wanted her dead even though she just wanted their leader in her pants. That wasn’t fair at all!

All she had lit in the bunker were some candles, in the hope of setting a mysterious, but also alluring setting. Maybe she could finally seduce him. Maybe she could settle a truce. Maybe her bullet wounds could finally heal.

“I am here,” Joseph announced at exactly 8 pm into the candlelit bunker. Bessie stepped out of the shadows, announcing her presence with a cough. Joseph turned around to face her, surprise written across his face.

“Depu-”

“Call me Bessie. We are not enemies.”

Her bright ginger hair seemed to burn in the candle light, the light surrounding her giving her a halo, making her look like an angel. Or satanic - depending on who you ask. One step forward, another one…until she was so close, their noses nearly touched.

“I don’t want to fight anymore. I just want to love.”

“Love?”

Bessie sighed at the question and lifted her shirt. Her stomach area was riddled in scars, tiny and big, old and new. “I am sick and tired of this,” she muttered as she allowed a finger to travel over the oldest scar. It had healed well, but the outline remained.

Joseph knew what his men were doing. They were out for the sinners, the bad ones, the people who hated them. But seeing their pain changed something inside of Joseph. He stepped closer before dropping to his knees. His lips pressed against another scar, Bessie couldn’t do more than watching him with wide eyes.

“Bessie…no one will hurt you anymore. I promise you,“Joseph whispered before pressing another kiss on her stomach.

That meeting was a long time ago. By now the bombs had dropped, trapping Joseph and Bessie together for seven years and maybe longer. Bessie and Joseph had agreed to a truce. No more killing, but his siblings would be arrested. When they went to arrest Joseph without Bessie’s knowledge, the bombs fell. Bessie made it to the bunker in the last second.

They tried to make the best out of their situation. Joseph was a surprisingly great cook and made the best out of the canned goods Dutch had stored in the bunker. Bessie took care of the guns stored in an extra room - after picking the lock for about five hours - cleaned the guns, taking them apart, putting them back together. This kept her calm and sane in the bunker.

One night - at least they thought it was night - Joseph and Bessie sat in front of the TV, and turned off nearly every light in the bunker so the emergency generator wouldn’t give up. A sappy rom-com was running on one of the million DVDs Dutch had saved. Joseph wasn’t too invested in the movie, preferring to spend his time with trailing his fingers over Bessie’s tattoos, taking in their colour, form, and how soft her skin was despite all the rough happenings of the past years. He was sorry for the pain he and his followers had inflicted upon Bessie, but in the end he was right, wasn’t he?

“That tickles”, Bessie smiled after a while, brushing Joseph’s hand off her shoulder. She wasn’t serious, not at all. Joseph’s touch offered her so much comfort in these unstable times, so many sleepless nights had been spent in his arms. Kisses were shared, bodies touching each other, fitting like a key into its lock. Joseph was made for Bessie, and Bessie was made for Joseph.

But they had two last missions - the first one was building up Eden’s Gate again to ensure the wellbeing of Joseph’s followers. The second one - repopulate the Earth. And Joseph wasn’t keen on waiting much longer.

“You know, sweetheart,” Joseph said as they laid in bed, Bessie’s head on his chest, “We shouldn’t wait any longer. By now we could have a child already, or at least on the way. We will be like Noah and his wife who repopulated Earth after the Big Flooding.”

Bessie chuckled along with his words “This was the worst way of saying ‘I want sex’ that I have ever heard!, and with a quick motion, she was straddling him. Joseph was already growing hard under her, enamored by the image in his head - her, all swollen and heavy with their child, walking together with him through Eden’s Gate. What a sight, what a life, and Joseph couldn’t wait to make this their reality.

Bessie reached up, undoing her shirt, not bothering with a bra anymore. Joseph had seen her naked often enough. Why should she feel shame about her nipples? Not with her. Not anymore. Not in their Eden.

Joseph reached up, giving her breasts a good hard squeeze. Again, his mind was driving him mad. How big they’d get, a sight for him and his eyes alone. Joseph pinched her nipples, earning a soft moan from Bessie. They had always been sensitive, and he couldn’t wait to make her cum by nipple play only when the time was ready.

The clothes were soon discarded, leaving two sweating and panting lovers behind. Bessie rode Joseph as if there was no tomorrow - or if their tomorrow was up to them. Thinking of Bessie being pregnant, Joseph came more than once during their session. Knowing her body so well, he made her cum too, their juices of love and lust covering the bed.

Bessie dropped next to Joseph, who placed a hand on her middle. No bulge, no belly, no nothing. But soon enough there would be, and Joseph couldn’t wait for this moment.

Several months later, Bessie was carrying his child, and Joseph was by her side whenever she needed it. Back rub? Joseph got it covered. Sore feet? Just whistle once and Joseph was massaging them.

“You know,“ Joseph muttered as he stood behind Bessie, his arms around her body, hands resting on her belly, “I knew you would be beautiful, but I never dared to dream you’d be this beautiful. You are my goddess and I am your simple preacher.”

Bessie laughed at his words, thinking they were so silly but in a cute way. “You know, Joseph,” she started, turned around to place a kiss on his lips.

“I never imagined my life to turn out this way. But now, I cannot imagine my life with anyone else than you, my love.”

“I love you, Bessie.”

“I love you too, Joseph.”

For the prompts, how about 5- "you're safe now"? The deputy and any characters of your choice 👀

A/N: Characters/Verse-Setting: Staci and Joshua. Set in the verse of A Cold And Broken Hallelujah about two years before the start of the events in that fic and the in-game timeline of Far Cry 5.Summary: Staci gets to know the new rookie on the force a bit better.Content includes: PTSD, non-graphic traumatic flashback, mention of non-consensual drug use, mention of medical child abuse, it’s okay though they have coffee and granola bars, Joshua justifying terrible granola bar choices but he makes up for it later, it’s still granola bars blasphemy, but friendship prevails, etcA lil backstory spoiler detail reveal for Joshua, but nothing super major that we won’t cover in ACABH sooner or later. xD This helped me flesh out a bit more details regarding how Staci and Joshua’s friendship came about, which I enjoyed a lot!! Thank you for the prompt Amistrio!! :D ♥Ao3 link here, to avoid tumblr disaster formatting on mobile.

Staci’s bored. Which is a nice change, because it’s been busy as hell with the holidays rolling through like Hurk Jr. deciding to take a steam roller for a joy ride (again) and christening it “the Hurkulator 9000.″ With spray paint.That’d been a messy day. How the man managed to avoid doing time in jail was a mystery, but then again: this was Hope County, home of the weird.The downside of being bored was that it was really, really tempting to fall asleep. Staci couldn’t fall asleep now though, it was almost the end of his shift, almost time to go home and then he could collapse into bed and play dead to the world for a blissful day of sleep.A blissful day, because he was currently working graveyard shift with the new rookie.Not going to lie, Rook was kind of a weirdo. Joey had smacked Staci for saying so to her—it’d been in private though! He’d made sure the new guy wasn’t around to hear ‘em, Jesus. Yeah, Staci knew he was being kind of hard on the guy, but the guy was kind of…jumpy. Selectively jumpy. Weirdly jumpy.Like, not at all surprised if someone showed up from around the corner jumpy, more like…jumpy when talking to people sometimes. Socially jumpy.Specifically, socially jumpy around him, Joey, Whitehorse, and perhaps a few others around town…despite not being from this area. Dude was from Georgia, down south…which was also kind of a tie-in weirdness given the local doomsday religious cult Hope County was home to, now, sadly. The Seeds had come from Georgia, so…Rook showing up coming from the same home state, looking just like the self-proclaimed prophet? Yeah. That was either deeply unfortunate luck or intentional choice there.But the probie had a rather particularly keen skill at vanishing into thin air right before anyone even remotely associated with the cult turned up.It was actually rather impressive, and had Staci wondering where the hell the guy hid sometimes, and how he managed to disappear so damn quietly.So, while the social jumpiness might have something to do with looking like the local loony cult leader admittedly, but it did raise the question of why Rook wasn’t putting in a transfer right away.That’d certainly been a weird day, when Earl had introduced Joshua to the rest of the department. Staci was sure Earl had asked at least once if not twice if Rook was sure he wanted to transfer once he’d seen the man’s picture in his file, informing the potential new transfer about the situation. Rook had apparently thought about it for a long while, and said he wanted to try working in Hope County anyway, if they’d have him—and the department sorely needed more people, they were understaffed as it was. Hell, Whitehorse had accepted Staci too—not that there was anything wrong with Staci. Just, Staci was a city boy, and Hope County was most certainly NOT that.It was about as far as you could get from a proper city without it being an empty stretch of highway, honestly. Hell, they even had a small, abandoned ghost town here…freaky as that was. Something to do with the history back during some mining age or something. He couldn’t remember. Fuck, that was going to bug him if he didn’t look it back up, Staci groused.Still, it was more than middle of nowhere with this potential weirdery of either a lookalike…or an unexpected relative. Even understaffed, Staci wasn’t sure why Earl had said yes.Perhaps he thought Rook would be useful. Whitehorse was calculating, taking the long view of things, but not manipulative, and not willing to put people, his people, in harm’s way without good reason.The Seeds were definitely brewing up trouble, had already been trouble both directly and by fucking proxy with their goddamned followers.Maybe Whitehorse thought Rook would be a possible ace in the hole…or would seed doubt in the Project’s ranks if or when the truth came to light?No…no, that didn’t fit Whitehorse’s M.O.…guess the guy had been earnest enough for Whitehorse to take a chance on him then. That’d work on him. Joey too—she was a bit more protective of him than Staci would’ve expected even for a rookie on the force.Danny…was the most skeptical of them, even compared to Staci.But Danny was kind of a prick. A rules-bound prick, but a prick none the less. Staci knew Danny would be withholding judgment until he’d seen more of Rook in action and conduct. Specifically, how much of a workaholic the newbie was, how much he respected the rules, if he was a fellow neat freak, how good his aim was, and the quality of his character.Yeah, Danny was a judgemental prick, but it wasn’t a bad list…for an obsessive compulsive. Nobody should be that neat at their desk or have a semi-permanent smell of wood polish floating about it.Staci was of the opinion Rook was a write-off—or he would be, if Staci wasn’t also likely saddled with helping Rook learn to take the training wheels off. …eh it wouldn’t be that bad, training new officers could be fun at times. They’d be playing pass-around but it’d likely help round Rook out, while making sure he didn’t get indoctrinated with Danny’s vengefully personal grudge against dust and disorder. There could only be one, for Staci’s sanity. Yes, it was great that Danny was always on point and made sure everything else was, but the man could stand to take it down a notch.None of them wanted more trouble with the Peggies than was needed though, or to have them snooping about. It’d been a bit of a devil’s deal there, in Staci’s opinion: get some sorely needed help in a time when trouble was festering, but said help might be a wild card.Assuming of course Rook wasn’t some long-lost relative of the Seeds out to do a crazy and reconnect with the family and infiltrate the police force…but that’d be crazy talk.But they were in Hope County, which Staci had learned was a hotbed for weird shit, and crazy was the baseline normal. So who fucking knew.The guy wasn’t really trying to convince anyone he wasn’t suspicious by being normal…which, actually worked in his favor, now that Staci thought about it. Was that reverse psychology? It seemed like a lot of work to act as, well, weird as Rook kind of was. It wasn’t really overt or hammed up, just…little things. That didn’t seem likely to be something a person would put on as an act.Ah, fuck. Intrigue was too much work to deal with, but deal with it they had to. Whitehorse had made the choice to accept Rook, so accept Rook they did.And Whitehorse had also made sure they were all on the same page with the official department line of keeping Rook’s unfortunate similarities on the down low. Hell even Nancy had agreed, surprisingly enough, looking wide-eyed enough Staci almost thought her eyeballs would just fall out of her head.How, exactly, a baseball cap and glasses were going to throw people off from noticing that they had a walking double of Joseph Fucking Seed in their ranks was beyond Staci.What was even more out-fucking-rageous was that it was fucking working. Nobody around town had mentioned it, there was no gossip about it, it was like…like…like no one had even noticed Rook’s face yet?It made Staci wonder if he was going fucking crazy. Crazy with boredom in this backwater town. God he needed to get out and find someone new to hang with, find something more to do on his time off. Someone to hit on would be nice, but the city-slicker charm had worn off after a while, and there weren’t a lot of ladies looking for regular one-night-stands—and Staci most certainly wasn’t looking for a relationship, even a friends-with-benefits one. Those tended to escalate far too often, in his opinion. No, thank you. If he wanted to pursue a serious relationship, he would say so at the beginning. Hooking up was hooking up, serious dating was serious dating.Ugh. He probably should see if the rookie wanted to hang out then, since he was a fresh face. Maybe Rook would be more relaxed off-duty with a beer or two in his system.Rook worked hard, at least, pulling his own weight while learning how to get his feet under him. That’d please Danny certainly—all the deputies had been harboring concerns the new guy might be thinking Hope was an easy job with not much going on. Which it was sometimes, just those were the very, very rare occasional blips rather than the day to day norm.Fuck it, fine, the rookie was doing alright in Staci’s book. So far. It was early yet still, a few months in, and it’d be a year before they all settled into accepting Rook as one of their own, but…well, it was nice to have a hair’s worth of breathing room more with another member of the team present. And a gopher to get coffee and doughnuts—he was glad he wasn’t the one getting them all the time now. Well. Most of the time.Fuck, they ran out of doughnuts near the beginning of the shift, but there were granola bars and there’d be coffee in the break room, and he needed something to keep him on his feet until his second (or in this case more like fifth) wind hit. Was it a shitty idea right before he could go home? Yeah. But he wanted to drive home, not drive headfirst into a ditch. Just a small coffee then. And one of those chocolate chip granola bars.Staci stood up with a groan, feeling his bones creak way more loudly than they should’ve at his age—he wasn’t even fucking twenty five yet, God damn. That was an effect of an all-nighter with over time though. Rolling his shoulders as he walked, he rounded the corner, past the bulletin board—and just about walked smack into the new guy. Just about made Staci jump, if he’d had the energy to do so. Too much burn out, not enough coffee for that right now though.“Jesus fucking Christ, Rook. You scared the shit out of me just about.” Staci said, grumbling more than he likely should’ve. It wasn’t the other man’s fault…just, Staci hadn’t heard him coming at all. No footsteps, no nothing.…Staci squinted. Rook’s head was tilted forward a bit, his eyes shut, now that Staci actually was looking.Was. Was Rook asleep? Was Rook a fucking sleepwalker? …that was actually kind of hilarious. Or it would be, if Staci wasn’t dead on his feet. If anything he was a bit illogically envious that the man could walk and sleep at the same time. And that was a sign Staci definitely needed to rest. God.Staci heaved a sigh, annoyed, but really just too tired to deal with bullshit of any kind right now. He reached out and gave Rook’s cheek a quick series of not-quite-gentle smacks. “Wakey wakey, probie, you’re not allowed to sleep on duty even if you can fucking walk and catch forty winks at the same time. Come on now. Raise-y daisy.”Any other time, Staci would’ve considered pranking the other man with this. Grabbing a sharpie and drawing some cartoony dicks and squigglies and whatever else he felt like doodling on his coworker’s face. Well. There’d be other times. Just he wasn’t in the mood right now.What he hadn’t expected was for Rook to snap awake with a sharp intake of breath, eyes wide and wild, hands a blur as he reached up to grab Staci’s upraised arm hard enough for the bones to creak, his other hand clamped to Staci’s other shoulder as he bared his teeth. Staci had flinched and had been bringing his other hand up to try to block, but Joshua had just reacted. Much faster than Staci would’ve expected from a sleep-deprived young rookie with no previous history in martial training, especially upon waking up.That was kind of fucking freaky and he was deeply, immediately concerned he was in deep shit. He’d seen this kind of reaction before, just he hadn’t expected it from Rook.He hadn’t expected Rook to look at him with what Staci could not call anything other than killing intent for a split second there, only to rein it in in the same instance while processing it.Then Rook just stood there, holding onto Staci, breathing harsh and fast, grip easing ever so slowly, the snarl upon his face relaxing into a glassy, wide-eyed looking around. Joshua’s eyes settled on the bulletin board beside them, and Staci felt the other man’s grip tighten.Staci had seen this before, had dealt with enough people with PTSD and heard about it from the veterans at the previous district to recognize what was going on. He reached up and rested his hand on the other man’s bicep, carefully, lightly, trying to get his attention without startling him.“Rook. Rook, it’s okay. You’re okay. We’re okay,” Staci said, pitching his voice low and calm, and oh boy if it wasn’t unsettling to see Joshua’s head snap to focus on him, blue eyes boring into Staci’s soul with enough intensity to make Staci falter for a moment under the other man’s gaze.“We need to get out of here,” Joshua said, words hurried and quiet and urgent, and edge to them that spoke of coiled tension and fear, deep south accent laying it on thick with that rough edge that came from having just woken up. Combined, it made Staci actually seriously question if there was a threat he didn’t know about present. “I’m not leaving you behind, you’ve got to get out and somewhere safe, Pratt. You have to, understand?”…No fucking wonder people followed the Seeds, damn. It was sort of weirdly touching that Joshua 1) recognized him during what seemed to be either a bout of PTSD or as the more uncharitable part of Staci’s brain suggested a bout of crazy, and 2) Rook seemed to actually genuinely be…very concerned about Staci’s continued well being.Damn.Staci withheld a split-second sigh, and made a mental note that he had to buy this guy a drink some time in the future. And be a little bit less of an ass and more…well, friendly perhaps. He hadn’t been a total ass to Rook, but he hadn’t been terribly friendly either, waiting to see if the new guy would stick around and make it through to being a regular or not. That was of course if this didn’t turn up to be a reveal of some factor that disqualified Rook from serving as a deputy. Fuck, he had to check for that as a senior officer here. First things first though, he needed to focus on calming Rook down and getting him grounded and remembering where they were.“Rook…Rook, you’re safe. We’re safe,” He said, trying to soothe the other man and get him his bearings, out of the nightmare or whatever it was that had set Rook off like that. Nightmare, he was sure. “We’re here in the Hope County Sheriff’s Department, here in Fall’s End, it’s 6:45am on a Thursday, we’re going to be off shift in a little over an hour, and Joey’s going to come in with Danny to relieve us and handle whatever new noise complaint related crap the Drubmans will drum up with fireworks and such,” He was just rambling, adding in the date and year and other mundane details to help with orienting oneself in time and space and contex. He was keeping it all slow and easy, keeping his eyes on Joshua as he continued talking like there wasn’t anything to worry about, that they were safe, because they were. Staci watched as the tension drained slowly from Rook’s face, his eyes came into focus and actually seemed to see where they were, recognition filtering in slowly. He felt Joshua’s grip on his shoulder and arm loosening again, all the way this time until there was no pressure applied, and Staci could lower his upraised hand to rest it on the side of Joshua’s other arm.“You’re safe now. Okay?” Staci asked, trying to get Joshua to recognize reality over the traumatic flashback he seemed to be in…or nightmare, or whatever it was. The method didn’t change…fuck Staci wasn’t as well-read on this as he needed to be. “Deep breaths now.”“…Okay,” Joshua said, his breathing finally slowing down, his expression finally looking like he was all there, here, now. “Okay.”He looked shaken. But there.“You alright, Rook?”“Yeah…yeah. I’m sorry, I…”“Don’t worry about it. Come on, let’s go get a coffee then, alright?” It was as much getting Rook something warm to drink as it was because Staci wanted one too. Food and warm drinks helped people calm down, and was one of his go-to solutions. Great way to bribe himself too when he was in a mood, like right now. Fuck sleep deprivation, man.…Fuck that was probably part of all this with the probie too.Joshua nodded, and the two of them turned to head back down the hall to the break room.“Here, you get the coffee poured, and I’ll grab us some granola bars. You like chocolate? Or you want oatmeal raisin?”“Oatmeal raisin.” Rook said, pulling out a pair of cups from the dish rack to check if they were dry, before proceeding to starting filling the first one.Staci just gave Rook an incredulous look from where he was going through an overhead cabinet. Who chose oatmeal raisin over chocolate? “Seriously?”Fuck. That came out of his mouth before he thought better of it.Rook just gave him an amused squint. “Hey I like chocolate but that’s shitty chocolate that’s all sugar and next to no chocolate flavor in the brand we get here at the station. I find the oatmeal raisin one still too sweet, but I’ll eat em anyway if there’s nothing else. The caramel apple flavor’s better, but we’re all out unless I’m mistaken, aren’t we?”“Yeah, Hudson runs through those super quick, you gotta horde some in your desk if you want any at the end of the month before restock day. Still, oatmeal raisin?” Staci wrinkled his nose with an openly judgemental look as he handed the offending granola bar over.“Pay me the funds we use for these, and I can make them better and tastier, with less crap in them,” Joshua said, taking the offered bar to waggle it pointedly at Staci before turning to hand over one of the cups of coffee. “No shit?” Staci asked, genuinely interested. Better food was always a plus in his book.“Yeah man, I love cooking.”Well that was certainly a potential plus to keeping the probie around—if he passed muster. Rook was looking calm now at least, pulling out the milk carton from the fridge to add a healthy amount to his cup. That was a quick bounce back, damn. Promising though…if still a bit haunting to think of how Rook had looked at him at first.Hm. Maybe Rook was just hiding it real well. Keeping busy, as it were.“Huh. I’ll bring it up with Whitehorse and run it by the others so they’re in the loop, if you really wanna do that on the regular. If you don’t, let us know ahead of time—Hudson deprived of snacks is a bad time for all. Pass the milk?”“Yeah I stress bake from time to time, this works out nicely,” Joshua said, handing the carton over.“Hm. You get stressed like earlier a lot, probie?” Staci asked, glancing at his coworker sidelong while stirring in his own sugar and milk.He saw how Joshua’s expression shifted slightly, lips thinning into an almost-frown.“Ah. That. Yeah I…get nightmares a lot. Doesn’t fuck with my sleep quality, just I’m fucky to wake up sometimes and need a moment.”Staci could tell Joshua knew the score here, and what the intent was for this line of questioning. He still had to ask, though, for the department’s sake and Rook’s own sake. If Rook wasn’t fit for the job, he was a danger to himself and the others in the department.“Did something happen? That looked like a PTSD flashback you were stuck in.” No point in beating about the bush, Staci reasoned. Particularly since he had all the diplomacy of a hungry narwhal right now.Rook shook his head though, not looking at Staci, holding his cup while appearing lost in thought. “No. Nothing happened. Just bad dreams.”Staci snorted, pausing mid-air in lifting his coffee up for a sip. “Yeah and I’m the Queen of England.”Joshua actually laughed a small surprised noise at that, turning to look at Staci with a cheeky grin. “I didn’t realize I was in the presence of royalty! Forgive my lack of manners, your highness.”Alright, he kind of liked this probie. Particularly when he was less of a bundle of nerves. The man was solid enough on the job while being professional, but behind the scenes...had been less smooth. The probie seemed to flounder a bit without a proper “script” to follow. But in this instance? The rookie might’ve hit his stride. It was making Staci smile out of reflex, and fuck he actually was feeling a bit less crabby over all this right now. That was uncharitable, Staci knew, but he was fucking tired. Joshua too, he knew.Joshua’s smile slid back to a more attentive, neutral expression. As much as one could, with dark shadows under one’s eyes. Fuck, Staci must’ve had a matching set too, it was practically part of the uniform during the holidays.“But I’m serious. I haven’t actually been in a violently traumatic experience or such. Some bullying as a kid, and…well, being illegally institutionalized, but it was done without a proper diagnosis from a clinician and was a complete hoax by the parties involved.”Staci almost choked on the sip of his coffee. “Say what now?” He’d followed with the being bullied part, because what kids didn’t get bullied, but the institutionalization part was a new one as far as stories went. “Institutionalized as in like in a mental hospital?”“Yeah. It was fucked. They committed a bunch of foster kids with made up diagnoses and wanted to run drug trials on them to prove efficacy with cooked test results. It all came to light after a couple of years. Corrupt practices, illegal human experimentation, inhumane treatment, kidnapping and criminal fraud charges everywhere, from what I hear.”“Jesus.”“Yeah. The courts sealed it and withheld our names because we were all minors, the other kids and I, but you might’ve heard of it like, a little under a decade ago? Was a bit of a flurry in the newspapers apparently.”“Oh fuck, maybe?” Staci vaguely recalled some mention of that scandal, now that Joshua mentioned it. Probably from a newspaper headline at a gas station or corner store, fuck if he could recall which one.That was weird, recalling reading about something he as a teenager had read about in passing as a tragic but impersonal event, and now standing before someone who it had affected both deeply and personally.He was perhaps learning a little bit more about empathy in this moment than he cared to, right now.“So, you’re saying that wasn’t fucking traumatic?” Staci asked, raising an eyebrow with a head tilt to go with it to indicate he was very skeptical that someone could skate through that kind of experience without coming out a little banged up mentally or otherwise. Some people could, he knew, and it varied from person to person, but the odds were against that he figured.Tonight was certainly an interesting night for gossip though.“Oh it was, I hate being locked up and watched, and drugged against my will until I’m a catatonic ball huddled in the corner quite a lot. Don’t like being questioned while on drugs either, in hindsight. Not really stuff I expect to encounter in any line of work though, including law enforcement. Locking others up doesn’t bother me, so long as it’s legal and ethical and such.” Those first words were light, as if trying to pass the matter off as a bit of a joke. It didn’t quite land. Joshua shrugged apparently trying to look casual about it, but the motion was a bit stiff and jerky, and he glanced down, hesitating while looking like he wanted to say a bit more.So Staci waited.In retrospect, the nicer thing to do would’ve been to reassure Rook, but well, that was more Joey-intuition than Staci-intuition, particularly right now. He’d be supportive in a minute, his sleep-deprived brain needed a bit longer to remember to do things.Joshua clearly needed a moment to organize his thoughts on what to say, which Staci was fine with, leaning against the counter to one side as he took a sip of his coffee in the meantime.“…the physician and psychologist who looked me over afterwards said I was fine, so I just…” Another abrupt little shrug and an accompanying shake of the head, before Joshua looked at Staci. “…I believe I’m sane, I just…still have the urge to say I’m not crazy, which I know sounds bad.”“…yeah that line never sounds great coming from a potential coworker or someone you have to spend more than the next five seconds with there, rookie,” Staci pointed out dryly. But hoo boy, Joshua…probably got a pass on that after being falsely labeled as in need of medication. “And for the record? Having a mental illness or something doesn’t make a person crazy. They need help, and we are sometimes the ones who need to help them get to the right people who can help them, medical professionals or otherwise.”Well, with that backstory reveal, Staci was inclined to cut Rook some slack on the weirdery, provided Rook managed to get his feet under him in good time. Rattled, but tentatively sound enough so far as early impressions went for what the man had been through.“Yeah. Yeah I know just…they treated us like we were crazy. To be disregarded, like we didn’t have an ounce of common sense between us all. They didn’t listen. Maybe it was also because we were kids,” Joshua said, looking away, “kids that no one cared about if we went missing.”“And that’s fucking wrong by any moral standard. Nobody should fuck up kids like that.” Staci said, followed by another sip. Humans sometimes were absolute assholes, but that was nothing new as a revelation to Staci. He’d certainly seen enough of that growing up. HE glanced down at his cup, noting that it was half empty already and commented offhand, “God I can’t believe we’re having a heart to heart chat at seven in the morning, after a full night shift, and after over time. Fuck, man.”Joshua breathed a laugh, but didn’t look at Staci.…right, he wasn’t reciprocating much was he. Fuck. Time to be a bit more heart-baringly friendly then. “And I agree, you’re not crazy. You seem perfectly sane so far, questionable granola bar tastes aside,—”That got Staci a proper laugh from Rook then, and he smiled in his little moment of social victory. Ah, and Joshua was back to looking him in the eye again. Good, good, they were restoring proper “friendship potential” connections.…ugh, Staci was trying to be friendly. It was too damn early for this. Or late, depending on point of view.Continuing, he said, “—and frankly the shit you’ve been through sounds real rough. I’m not the most eloquent guy even at the best of times let alone at the end of a long night shift, but you seem alright in my book. If you ever want to, I don’t know, talk and have a drink about it, honestly Joey’s the better choice for that but hit me up if you need it.”Eh, close enough. He wasn’t giving out details of his life, it just…didn’t fit the flow of what he said? But maybe another time. Was he leaving Rook hanging with awkward did-I-overshare-feelings? …GOD being nice was hard. But worth the effort, yes. He just wanted to grumble a bit about it right now.“We can swap shitty childhood stories or something sometime with enough beers or something. After we’ve both slept, I can’t be fucking bothered to do serious story time with heavy shit right now. No offense,” He added as an afterthought because that might’ve come off as abrasive. “I’m fine with listening in moments like this if you’re okay with a low level of emotional response and engagement, but I’m gonna be snarky.”“Oh so that’s just you in general, not because oatmeal raisin granola bars offended you in particular then,” Joshua said, looking rather amused at that point.“Hey, those are shitty granola bars, Rook. I just can’t believe you like them.”“I tolerate them, Pratt. I know good fare from shitty fare, and good fare ain’t that. Also, you can call my Joshua you know.”“Staci, then.” He offered a hand as…he didn’t fucking know, sleep-deprivation-addled reflex to what his tired brain thought of as an introduction of sorts? They’d been introduced when Joshua had first showed up of course, and shaken hands then, but it’d been a perfunctory greeting. This was a more welcome to the club house kind of greeting, or something. Fuck, fine, Staci was accepting Rook as one of theirs more officially-ish.Joshua was either too tired or was more of an accepting sort, taking Staci’s hand and giving it a shake. “I’ll buy you a drink sometime then, after we’ve both slept some. You wanna swing by my place later this week to help test out homemade granola bar flavors?”“Sure man, where d’you live?” Staci asked, letting go of the other’s hand to rip open his granola bar with the one hand and his teeth, before taking a bite.“I rent a place outside of town, I’ll text you the address and directions?” Joshua offered.“Yeah, alright. Stay awake until you get home then, probie, and don’t fall asleep on the way back.” Staci said, raising his half-eaten granola bar in a mock-salute that Joshua responded to in kind with his coffee cup as Staci headed back to his desk with what remained of his own coffee. It was tempting to get another cup, but he needed to sleep sooner rather than later once his shift was over, and the end was in sight.Fuck, guess they might be becoming friends then after all.…well, that wasn’t such a bad thing, now was it.Hell, maybe it’d work out. It wasn’t like he was overbooked with friendships galore around here in Hope, after all. Rook’s backstory seemed kinda heavy on shitty things that’d happened to him, but, well…why not. Staci was willing to give it a go if Joshua was. Plus it wasn’t like Staci himself had come from a peerless background either. He took another sip of his coffee and a second bite of the granola bar.…hm, maybe Joshua had a point. Maybe these were too sugar-heavy on the flavor instead of a more chocolate-rich taste, now that he was paying attention.Fuck. Now he couldn’t fucking un-taste that cheap-mass-produced-granola-bar flavor. He shoved the rest of the bar into his mouth grouchily, chewing on it with a bit of spiteful prejudice. At least there wasn’t much left of this one, for what consolation that was worth. Staci really fucking hoped they got better granola bars now, either by Joshua baking them or a different brand, because there went his bland, non-attentive, mindless enjoyment of one shitty junk food snack masquerading as a healthier snack.God fucking damn it.

A Love Like No Other

Jacob Seed X OC Ana Pearce

Warnings: Violence, Smut, Mention of abuse

Word Count: 1708

Chapter Two

Going back home was a bloody nightmare. Tim and Kelly went off their heads when Ana walked through the front door, not knowing that Blake was right behind her. They yelled in her face and Kelly had grabbed Ana's arm so tightly that she was sure there was a bruise already. The moment Blake walked in and yelled back at his parents, Tim and Kelly backed off, letting Ana get past.

"From this day forward, Hannah, Haley and Ana are allowed to leave this house whenever they want" Blake put his foot down to his parents. "They are old enough to look after themselves and do whatever. It's time you two, grew the fuck up".

"I've had enough of your tone Mr. We are your parents, you do not raise your voice or order us on what to do" Tim raised his voice.

"Listen here old man" Blake walked up to his father's face. "Lay a single finger on one of my sisters and I'll break that finger. You understand? If you wanted respect from your children, then you should have never abused them".

Hannah and Haley followed their siblings into Blake's bedroom, curious to know where they had gone.

"So? What does Hope County have for us?" Hannah asked as she sat down next to her brother.

"Other than forests, mountains and lakes. We've got a small town called Falls End. It has a bar and some clothing stores" Ana started explaining. "Oh and a lot of farms".

"And not to mention, a church for a religious cult" Blake smirked.

"Now we're talking" Hannah said. "Keep going".

"Yeah we met the leader. His people call him The Father but he said his name was Joseph Seed" Blake continued to explain. "He has two brothers Jacob and John and a sister, Faith Seed".

"Are they good looking?" Haley asked.

"Yes. The brothers were hot and Faith..."

"She was beautiful" Blake interrupted Ana, as he remembered Faith and her beautiful features.

"Wow. Someone's in love" Hannah joked.

"Joseph said he'd like to meet you two as well. Maybe our awesome brother here, can take all of us next week Sunday to another sermon" Ana informed her sisters.

Blake looked up at Ana and smiled, "my dear sister. Joseph said we can visit him anytime we wanted". He looked at his other two sisters and informed them that he was going to take them to Joseph's church tomorrow and get them to meet the Seed family for themselves.

-

That evening, with the help of her brother, Ana was able to leave the house to go and explore the forests that Holland Valley had. She walked through the forest, looking up at the trees and listening to the birds chirping away. The sun shone through the trees, helping her walk without having to worry about falling. As she continued to walk, she started hearing the sound of the lake's water flowing, as if it was a river instead.

"This is beautiful" she said to herself and started to turn in circles.

"You shouldn't be out here, all alone" a voice from behind her came. Ana jumped with fear and turned around to see the familiar man from the church, stand behind her and leaning against a tree.

"Hope County forest's might be beautiful to explore but the wildlife can be extremely dangerous" the man kept saying. "If you want to explore, you have to bring a weapon with you".

Ana looked down and saw the man holding what looked like, a red rifle in his hand. "Umm" was all she could say, still startled by this giant man.

"You're that girl from the church. Right?" He asked and started approaching Ana slowly.

"Yes" Ana replied back and swallowed hard.

"No need to be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you" he said and stopped right in front of Ana.

He was really tall compared to her. She had to look up a fair bit to get a better look at him. He was even more handsome up close and she was able to make out the colour of his eyes. Light Blue. They were perfect. Ana was finally able to smile at him after realising that he wasn't dangerous or scary.

"So which one are you? John or Jacob" Ana crossed her arms and examined his features. "Wait! Don't answer that. Let me guess... Jacob".

"Correct" Jacob smiled. "I'm Jacob. Oldest brother of the Seed's".

"Nice to meet you Jacob. I'm..."

"Ana. I remember from the church. I might be old but I've got a brain like an elephant" Jacob chuckled a little and started walking past Ana.

"Old? Pfft" Ana giggled.

Jacob stopped in his spot and turned to look at Ana. "47 isn't really young".

"47? Jesus Christ. You look like you're in the 30s" Ana sounded shock. "You're really handsome for a 47 year old Mr Seed".

"Jacob!" He reminded her of his name.

"Sorry. Jacob" Ana smiled.

"So you live in Holland Valley?" Jacob asked, wanting to question her about her family.

"Yep. I wanted to live in Whitetail Mountains but my parents chose this place instead" Ana explained.

"Is that so?" Jacob got close to her again.

"Yeah. On the pamphlet it said Whitetail Mountains had more forests and even mountains" Ana said.

"You like Mountains?" He continued to ask her questions.

Ana nodded with a big smile on her face.

"Interesting. Would you like to go to Whitetail Mountains one day?" Jacob asked.

"Oh I would for sure" Ana was quick to reply. "Could you take me?". She was embarrassed to ask but felt a lot better getting it out off her system.

"You want me to take you to Whitetail Mountain?" Jacob was surprised. No one in this County would have asked him for something like this or for that matter, anything at all.

"Please. I really want to see the mountains" Ana begged. "Plus, it would be a great way to get to know each other. Being new and all to this County, I'd like to make friends. I barely had any in New York".

"I'll give you my number. You let me know when you wanna go and I'll pick you up" Jacob accepted.

Ana jumped with joy, then took her phone out and put Jacob's number in. "Thank you so much Jacob".

"You're welcome but I think I should take you home" Jacob suggested. "It's getting dark and like I said, wildlife in this County, is incredibly dangerous".

"Sounds good" Ana accepted and the both of them walked out off the forest and to Jacob's truck.

-

Jacob had all his windows to his truck opened wide. Ana had rested her arms on the car door and enjoyed the breeze hit her face. It felt amazing and smelt like fresh air. Her long black hair flew around crazily but she didn't care. Jacob couldn't help but glance at her at times. 'She's beautiful' he thought to himself and smiled as he glanced over at her one last time.

"Jacob?" Ana called out to him, then sat back in the passenger seat. "Could you drop me off around here. I don't want my parents to see me in a car with a guy. They'll kill me and I don't think Blake can save me".

Jacob pulled his truck over and looked at Ana. "Your parents sound like bad people. Do they hurt you Ana?".

"Umm. No of course not. They are just trying to be good parents" Ana lied.

"That's not what your brother said at the church. Abusive parents are the worst" Jacob looked out the window. "My brothers copped it from our abusive parents. They've got the marks to prove it but it made them stronger".

"They don't abuse me Jacob but thank you for your concern" Ana said and placed her hand on Jacob's scarred arm. "I'll call you when I want to go to the Mountains. Thank you again Jacob". With that being said, Ana jumped out of the truck and walked the remaining distance, home.

She walked in and was greeted by her brother. The two of them spent the evening speaking about what they did when the four siblings split up. Hannah and Haley had gone to Falls End to shop around while Blake had gone to the bar for a few drinks. Ana explained to her brother about Jacob's generous offer to take her to Whitetail Mountain's to see the mountains and forest it had to offer. Blake thought it would be a good way for his sister to make some friends, since she barely had any friends back in New York. Again, that came down their parents but he was going to make sure his sister made friends here in Hope County.

"I think these Seed's are going to be great people to hang with" Blake said and sat back on the couch. "What do you think?"

"I agree. Jacob looks like a very intimidating person but I like him" Ana said. "He'd be nice to be friends with".

"When are you going to meet up with him again?" Blake asked.

"Maybe Tuesday. He gave me his number and told me to give him a call whenever I wanted to go" Ana replied back. "I'm going to get some sleep. Goodnight".

"Night" Blake responded back and decided to go to bed himself. "What a fucking awesome day".

Laying in bed, Ana couldn't stop thinking about Jacob Seed. In the morning, seeing him for the first time was awkward and uncomfortable. He continually stared at her the whole time but after seeing up closer and talking to him, Ana could help but feel a tingly while thinking about him. He seemed like a really nice guy and he was extremely handsome but the only problem she had with him, was the age. He was almost 50 years old, so hanging out with a much older man, may seem a little disturbing for others.

Ana bit on her lip and smiled, wiping out that memory and thinking about the good things about Jacob. She couldn't wait to hang out and get to know him a lot more. He seemed like a guy full of mysteries and stories.

Atlanta “Child Murders”

The curious and controversial string of deaths that sparked a two-year reign of terror in Atlanta, Georgia, has been labeled “child murders,” even though a suspect ultimately blamed for 23 of 30 “official” homicides was finally convicted only in deaths of two adult ex-convicts. Today, nearly two decades after that suspect’s arrest, the case remains, in many minds, an unsolved mystery.

Investigation of the case began, officially, on July 28, 1979. That afternoon, a woman hunting empty cans and bottles in Atlanta stumbled on a pair of corpses, carelessly concealed in roadside undergrowth. One victim, shot with a .22 caliber weapon, was identified as 14-year-old Edward Smith, reported missing on July 21. The other was 13-year-old Alfred Evans, last seen alive on July 25; the coroner ascribed his death to “probably” asphyxiation. Both dead boys, like all of those to come, were African-American.

On September 4, Milton Harvey, age 14, vanished during a neighborhood bike ride. His body was recovered three weeks later, but the cause of his death remains officially “unknown.” Yusef Bell, a 9 year old, was last seen alive when his mother sent him to the store on October 21. Found dead in an abandoned school November 8, he had been manually strangled by a powerful assailant.

Angel Lenair, age 12, was the first recognized victim of 1980. Reported missing on March 4, she was found six days later, tied to a tree with her hands bound behind her. The first female victim, she had been sexually abused and strangled; someone else’s panties were extracted from her throat.

On March 11, Jeffrey Mathis vanished on an errand to the store. Eleven months would pass before recovery of his skeletal remains, advanced decomposition ruling out a declaration on the cause of death. On May 18, 14-year-old Eric Middlebrooks left home after receiving a telephone call from persons unknown. Found the next day, his death was blamed on head injuries, inflicted with a blunt instrument.

The terror escalated that summer. On June 9, Christopher Richardson, 12, vanished en route to a neighborhood swimming pool. Latonya Wilson was abducted from her home on June 22, the night before her seventh birthday, bringing federal agents into the case. The following day, 10-year-old Aaron Wyche was reported missing by his family. Searchers found his body on June 24, lying beneath a railroad trestle, his neck broken. Originally dubbed an accident, Aaron’s death was subsequently added to the growing list of dead and missing blacks.

Anthony Carter, age 9, disappeared while playing near his home on June 6, 1980; recovered the following day, he was dead from multiple stab wounds. Earl Terrell joined the list on July 30, when he vanished from a public swimming pool. Skeletal remains discovered on January 9th, 1981, would yield no clues about the cause of death.

Next up on the list was 12-year-old Clifford Jones, snatched off the street and strangled on August 20. With the recovery of his body in October, homicide detectives interviewed five witnesses who named his killer as a white man, later jailed in 1981 on charges of rape and sodomy. Those witnesses provide details of the crime consistent with the placement and condition of the victim’s body, but detectives chose to ignore their sworn statements, listing Jones with victims of the “unknown” murderer. 

Darren Glass, an 11-year-old, vanished near his home on September 14, 1980. Never found, he joins the list primarily because authorities don’t know what else to do with his case. October’s victim was Charles Stephens, reported missing on the ninth and recovered the next day, his life extinguished by asphyxiation. Capping off the month, authorities discovered skeletal remains of Latonya Wilson on October 28, but they could not determine how she died.

On November 1, nine-year-old Aaron Jackson’s disappearance was reported to police by frantic parents. The boy was found on November 2, another victim of asphyxiation. Patrick Rogers, 15, followed on November 10. His pitiful remains, skull crushed by heavy blows, were not unearthed until February 1981.

Two days later after New Year’s, the elusive slayer picked off Lubie Geter, strangling the 14-year-old and dumping his body where it would not be found until February 5. Terry Pue, 15, went missing on January 22 and was found the next day, strangled with a cord or piece of rope. This time, detectives said that special chemicals enabled them to lift the suspect’s fingerprints from Terry’s corpse. Unfortunately, they were not on file with any law enforcement agency in the United States.

Patrick Baltazar, age 12, disappeared on February 6. His body was found a week later, marked by ligature strangulation, and the skeletal remains of Jeffrey Mathis were discovered nearby. a 13-year-old, Curtis Walker, was strangled on February 19 and found the same day. Joseph Bell, 16, was asphyxiated on March 2. Timothy Hill, On March 11, was recorded as a drowning victim.

On March 30, Atlanta police added their first adult victim on the list of murdered children. He was Larry Rogers, 20, linked with younger victims by the fact he had been asphyxiated. No cause of death was determined for a second adult victim, 21-year-old Eddie Duncan, but he made it on the list anyway, when his body was found on March 31. On April 1, ex-convict Michael Mcintosh, age 24, was added to the roster on grounds that he, too, had been asphyxiated. 

By April 1981, it seemed apparent that the “child murders” case was getting out of hand. Community critics denounced the official victims list as incomplete and arbitrary, citing cases like January 1891 murder of Faye Yearby to prove their point. Like “official” victim Angel Lenair, Yearby was bound to a tree by her killer, hands behind her back; she had been stabbed to death, like four acknowledged victims on the list. Despite those similarities, police rejected  Yearby’s case on the grounds that (a) she was a female-as were Wilson and Lenair-and (b) that she was “too old” at age 22, although the last acknowledged victim had been 23. Author Dave Dettlinger, examining police malfeasance in the case, suggests that 63 potential “pattern” victims were capriciously omitted from the “official” roster, 25 of them after a suspect’s arrest supposedly ended the killing.

In April 1981, FBI spokesman declared that several of the crimes were “substantially solved,” outraging blacks with suggestions that some of the dead had been slain by their own parents. While that storm was raging, Roy Innis, leader of the Congress of Racial Equality, went public with the story of a female witness who described the murders as the actions of a cult involved with drugs, pornograpthy, and Satanism. Innis led searchers to an apparent ritual site, complete with large inverted crosses, his witness passed two polygraph examinations, but by that time police had focused their attention on another suspect, narrowing their scrutiny to the exclusion of all other possibilities. 

On April 21, Jimmy Payne, a 21-year-old ex-convict, was reported missing in Atlanta. Six days later, when his body was discovered, death was publicly attributed to suffocation, and his name was added to the list of murdered “children.” William Barrett, 17, went missing May 11; he was found the next day, another victim of asphyxiation. 

Several bodies had, by now been pulled from local rivers, and police were staking out the waterways by night. In the predawn hours of May 22, a rookie officer stationed under a bridge on the Chattahoochee River reported hearing “a splash” in the water nearby. Above him, a car rumbled past, and officers manning the bridge were alerted. Police and FBI agents halted a vehicle driven by Wayne Bertram Williams, a black man, and spent two hours grilling him and searching his car, before they let him go. On May 24, the corpse of Nathaniel Cater, a 27-year-old convicted felon, was fished out of the river downstream. Authorities put two and two together and focused their probe on Wayne Williams.  

From the start, he made a most unlikely suspect. The only child of two Atlanta schoolteachers, Williams still lived with his parents at age 23. A college dropout, he cherished ambitions of earning fame and fortune as a music promoter. In younger days, he had constructed a working radio station in the basement of the family home.

On June 21, Williams was arrested and charged with the murder of Nathaniel Cater, despite testimony from four witnesses who reported seeing Carter alive on May 22 and 23, after the infamous “splash.” On July 17, Williams was indicted for killing two adults-Cater and Payne-while newspapers trumpeted the capture of Atlanta’s “child killer.”

At his trail, beginning in December 1981, the prosecution painted Williams as a violent homosexual and bigot, so disgusted with his own race that he hoped to wipe out future generations by killing black children before they could breed. One witness testified that he saw Williams holding hands with Nathaniel Cater on May 21, a few hours before the “splash”. Another, 15 years old, told the court that Williams had paid him two dollars for the privilege of fondling his genitals. Along the way, authorities announced the addition of a final victim, 28-year-old John Porter, to the list of victims.

Defense attorneys tried to balance the scales with testimony from a woman who admitted to having “normal sex” with Williams, but the prosecution won a crucial point when the presiding judge admitted testimony on 10 other deaths from the “child murders” list, designed to prove a pattern in the slayings. One of those admitted was the case of Terry Pue, but neither ide had anything to say about the fingerprints allegedly recovered from his corpse in January 1981.

The most impressive evidence of guilt was offered by a team of scientific experts, dealing with assorted hairs and fibers found on certain victims. testimony indicated that some fibers from a brand of carpet found inside the Williams home (and many other homes, as well) had been identified on several bodies. Further, victims Middlebrooks, Wyche, Cater, Terrell, Jones and Stephens all supposedly bore fibers from the trunk liner of a 1979 Ford automobile owned by the Williams family. The clothes of victim Stephans also allegedly yielded fibers from a second car-a 1970 Chevrolet-owned by Wayne’s parents. Curiously, jurors were not informed of multiple eyewitness testimony naming a different suspect in the Jones case, nor were they advised of a critical gap in the prosecution’s fiber evidence.

 Specifically, Wayne Williams had no access to the vehicles in question at the times when three of the six “fiber” victims were killed. Wayne’s father took the Ford in for repairs at 9:00 A.M on July 30, 1980, nearly five hours before Earl Terrell vanished that afternoon. Terrell was long dead before Williams got the car back on August 7, and it was returned to the shop the next morning (August 8), still refusing to start. A new estimate on repair costs were so expensive that Wayne’s father refused to pay, and the family never again had access to the car. Meanwhile, Clifford Jones was kidnapped on August 20 and Charles Stephens on October 9, 1980. The defendant’s family did not purchase the 1970 Chevrolet in question until October 21, 12 days after Stephen’s death.

On February 27, 1982, Wayne Williams was convicted on two counts of murder and sentenced to a double term of life imprisonment, Two days later, the Atlanta “child murders” task force officially disbanded, announcing that 23 of 30 “List” cases were considered solved with his conviction, even though no charges had been filed. The other seven cases, still open, reverted to the normal homicide detail and remain unsolved to this day.

In November 1985, a new team of lawyers uncovered once-classified documents from an investigation of the Ku Klux Klan, conducted during 1980 and ‘81 by the Georgia Bureau of Investigation. A spy inside the Klan told BGI agents that Klansmen were “killing the children” in Atlanta, hoping to provoke a race war. One Klansman in particular, Charles Sanders, allegedly boasted of murdering “List” victim Lubie Geter, following a personal altercation. Geter reportedly struck Sander’s car with a go-cart, prompting Klansman to tell his friend, “I’m gonna kill him. I’m gonna choke the black bastard to death.” (Geter was, in fact, strangled, some three months after the incident.) In early 1981, the same informant told GBI agents that “after twenty black-child killings, they, the Klan, were going to start killing black women.” Perhaps coincidentally, police records note the unsolved murders of numerous black women in Atlanta in 1998-82, with most of the victims strangled. On July 10, 1998, Butts County Superior Court Judge Hal Craig rejected the latest appeal for a new trial in William’s case, based on suppression of critical evidence 15 years earlier. Judge Craig denied yet another new-trial motion on June 15, 2000.

The Father who fell for his Sheep (Joseph & reader)

What would happen, if Father discovers that he has a favorite sheep?

A/N: No good ending here, honey...

You stood by him since the start of ‘Eden’s Gate Project’. You stood by him since the first church that Father Joseph has built. You were one of his closest cult members - but still, he didn’t consider you as a family member. The cult leader charmed you since the first moment you met him. You were on holiday in America and decided to take a shortcut but small state - Hope County in Montana. When you first met him, he had only three people by his side - a soldier, a junkie, and a psycho. 

You two met in the east part of Hope County, in one of his religion’s first church. You loved his philosophy and his thoughts about God and about the bad things in the world - you loved God since you were a child and from that moment you loved your new Father. You were hypnotized by his sermon. The church was an obvious choice for you when Joseph asked you to follow him. Since then, you had your spot on his sermons. You were always sitting in the first line and listening to his breathtaking speech.

He loved the moments when you two sat and talked whole nights - about good and evil, about faith and hope, about God’s will and he even talked with you about the future of cult. By now, you were his favorite “child” even though he never thought of you in that way or either said it out loud. 

He might don’t know that. He loved to kiss you on the forehead as a good father, he could relax when he got you near. He loved to watch you - doing stuff, just sitting around and read his Word or taking a bit of Faith’s Bliss. None of his children considered your really close friendship as a bad thing - he loved them all. He talked with all of them, he smiled at all of them - he was a good father to everyone.

Until that one evening - it was summer quietly changing to fall. The leaves started to have beautiful colors, the nights were colder and darker.

„Hello, my child.“ He surprised you when you were gathering some healing flowers. The bucket almost fell off your arms but Joseph caught is with a slight smile.

„Good evening, Father.” You smiled back and sleeked your sweater. He looked really tired today - his glass was gone and he was dressed in a thin black t-shirt. Through it sounds unbelievable - when the winter was coming, he started to dress up fancy t-shirts. You looked at him once again - his skin was pale and his eyes were empty.

„No one is around-“ He sighs and looks around you once again. „- I told you to call me Joseph when we’re alone. You know that, (Y/R).” He took the bucket with herbs from you and walked by your side.

„I will, Joseph.“ You said quietly.„I didn’t see you at today’s sermon, (Y/N).” Joseph watched you by the corner of his eyes.

„What’s the matter?“

„Nothing really. I had little fever when I got up, so I stayed in bed. Don’t worry, Joseph, it was just for today.” You smiled and continued to walk beside him in small dust alley in between herbs.

„Well, I have to be worried about my children. That makes a good father, right? To know your worries and dreams. To know your matters.“ He gave you the bucket.

„You’re great Father, Joseph.” You whispered as you two stopped in the alley. You were both watching dark blue skies with little bullet holes in it.

„Not at all, (Y/N), not at all. Some of us died today again. We’re growing stronger and stronger than before, but the resistance does so too. But it’s God’s plan, and I can not step in God’s actions and plans. But it hurts (Y/N). It hurts to see so many of my children dead. I loved them dearly.“

„Ah, stop it, Joseph. You’re doing everything for Eden’s Gate, you’re our leader and you’re walking the path with us. You take care of your country, your siblings and you give your heart and soul into your religion. We love you, you are a great Father.” He smiled more than before, and then he gave you a kiss on the forehead. It was way longer than a normal kiss than he gave the other children. But you felt really comfortable with it so you didn’t move an inch.

„I came for those words. Thank you, (Y/N). I feel relieved after hearing them.“ He gave you your bucket back and with you by his side slowly walked towards the church. He was stopping constantly and talked to the other children who started walking from inside, so you excused yourself after a while and headed inside the building. You went into the cellar and pressed healing herbs into some old books you found in near mountain cottage. You turned around because of some noises, and the Father was standing there. Your heartbeat increased as you scoffed.

„Excuse me. I didn’t expect you here, Father.” He never came to the basement to see you, it was really unusual to see him so close. And he was slowly coming closer. Not to close but he was only three to four feet away from you.You could smell his essence perfectly. And to be honest, it was enough for you. You were already excited. He stopped learning towards you and looked really interestingly into your face.

„I have a question for you, (Y/N).“ He said finally. You smiled calmly.

„You know you can ask whatever you want to, Joseph.” You whispered. You couldn’t resist it. Joseph was handsome close and charming - but he was close to you. He was never as close as he was now. You could feel that your heart was pumping hard and fast in your chest. Sometimes, you felt… Lust for your Father. It was scary. You felt like the biggest sinner on the whole planet - but sometimes, when you two talked deep into the night you couldn’t get your eyes off him. Of his eyes or sharp lips. You just couldn’t. But you never felt it so strongly.

„My siblings and I are going to have dinner with some of the most important members of Eden’s Gate.“

„That’s nice, Joseph. I hope that you’re going to enjoy it.” You said sadly and the lust you felt was gone in a second. You looked down a went back to the herbs. Why did he inform you about that? You were confused.

„I want to invite you, (Y/N).“ He said quietly - as much as he could. You stood up and your cheeks started to get more and redder. The Father, the figure you were looking up the most, invited you, a common member of Eden’s Gate, to have dinner in his residence with some of the most important members in Hope County.

„Why would I go there, Joseph?”

„Please, my dear (Y/N).“ He lightly touched hands on your shoulder. You were hypnotized by his voice and eyes - again. It could be Bliss too - you had a bit yesterday. But no. It was him. 

„It is really important to me, my child. I want you to be here, from the depth of myself.” You still couldn’t believe it - you shook your had a little and move backward. You aren’t that important - you have to stay here. You have your place here.

„It’s for God. (Y/N). You are really important to me, for me, you’re a really important member. Come. Come and fulfill God’s purpose for you.“ He said and you were lost. You were lost every time he used God as a plea. He was really charming, confident and really serious man. He was a bit scary in those moments when he tried to change your decision or opinion. You could sense some aggression from his side. You only thought that - he wasn’t purely aggressive in front of you. Never.

„I will do it, Joseph. I will listen to God’s calling.” You touched his arm lightly and lower your hand back to your hip. Joseph finally lets his hands off you and smiled a bit.

„But I don’t have any nice dress.“

„Stop it. Take those pink, those you wear onto Sunday sermon.” He smiled and walked away.You rode into his residence by two different cars. Your hair was brushed and you got your cheeks a bit rosy. He wasn’t in your car and although that, your heart was beating ridiculously fast and hard. You were excited as a little child. He was so close. So close even when he was on a different machine. And you felt it ridiculously strong. It was lust.

The man on rider’s seat was really mysterious and he definitely wasn’t nice to you. He was a member like you - why couldn’t he sit in your place? You were really afraid of his dark looks and you were quietly praying for this ride to end. After half an hour you finally arrived. You thanked you rider and gladly get off the car. Joseph was awaiting you - he got a long coat, white shirt, and low jeans with a huge belt on it. His glasses were on and he was in his typical bun. He lightly smiled at you and he walked by your side. His professional soldiers were all around, and to be honest - you knew why.

„You look really nice in that dress, my child.“ He whispered and your breath was gone in a heartbeat. You step into wolf’s lair. It was a huge residence full of luxury and comfort. Even though, you felt cozy in there. You stood in his personal chapel and you were waiting for him. There was his portrait, like in every other chapel. His Word was lying on a high pedestal, opened on your favorite chapter. He talked passionately to his soldiers and you stood there all alone. 

„Hello…” You heard a calm quiet woman voice. The voice was laughing, you caught your nose with hand. You smelled Bliss in the air. You knew the woman. It was Faith Seed - Joseph’s sister, the junkie, as you called her. She lived in the same region as you - she lived on the east of Hope County and she was making her Bliss there. Everyone knew it was a drug - but you and everybody else took the drug with grace.

„Hello, Mrs. Seed.“ You smiled at her a lower the hand back. She was always like a tiny fairy - smiley and happy. She was always dancing. God has saved me, she said every time someone asked her.¨

„How did you get here?” She came even closer. You could almost feel her breathing.

„The Father invited me.“

„Oh, why, dear?” She took your hand and looked into Joseph. Then she took you away.

„He said that I am important. He said that God wants to give me a purpose.“ You two were standing side by side in front of the huge garden of hers 'Bliss Flower’.

„It must be true. He saved me too. He showed me my purpose.” You weren’t sure about whom she was talking, bud you smiled a bit. She looked far away into the skies with a slight smile and you smiled too.

„Faith, what are you doing here all alone?“ You heard a familiar voice. It wasn’t Joseph through you had that feeling in the first moment. It was his younger brother John - psycho and tyrant of the south. 

He and Joseph were really similar to each other - he wore bun and beard too, he was tattooed all over his body and his clothes were truly elegant. Joseph was clearly his idol - as he was an idol to you.

„I’m not alone brother. She is with me.” She hugged you shoulder with her small arm and smiled into John’s face. He looked all over you

.„I know you from East Church sermons.“ You nodded a little. His eyes went from clear blue onto dark heavy tone. His face turned straight. He was looking like he didn’t have any emotions. He and Faith looked and each other and both were looking deadly serious.

„Yeah. I live in there.”

„John, Faith…“ You suddenly heard Joseph’s voice. Faith’s hand disappeared from your shoulder and she leaned towards John. Both of them greet their brother with hugs and smiles. 

Then you walked into a spacious dining room. It was full of people and furniture. It was full of the important members of the Eden’s Gate and all of them went to greet Joseph. He kissed every one last of them on the forehead and he held every last hand in the room. How you said - he gave his body and heart to his loved religion. There, when Joseph left you alone and his two siblings were with him, you met the last member of the Seeds.

It was the soldier. His name was Jacob and he was one of a really scary man. He was a bit different from his two younger brothers - he was tall and seriously huge, in the best way possible. He was a mountain of muscles. And, like the only one, he had ginger hair. He was sitting next to the front of the table and looking at his brother and his loyal sheep. You stood there alone and quietly, you watched Joseph’s back. Jacob sometimes looked at you and you glanced at the big man. 

„Come and sit. It is going to take infinity.” Jacob finally spoke to you. You came to chair towards him and sit on it. Your cheeks were even rougher. You never spoke to him before - this was your first time. The members said that he was the least religionist of them four. You heard that he was telling about himself that ’he is the most connected to reality’.

„And who are you, my dear? Which section do you chief?“ Jacob lighted up a cigarette. He was himself, always, and that scared you.

„I don’t chief to anything.”

„Then who are you?“ He finally looked at you and paid you full attention for the first time. His cold blue eyes went all over you and you felt seriously uncomfortable.

„I gather herbs in one of the churches.” You smiled and Jacob mumbled something about weakness and disappointment. He and Joseph didn’t greet as warm as Joseph did with the rest of his family. They only smiled at each other and shook their heads. You smiled at Jacob and you wanted to sit anywhere else. But something stopped you. It was his hand. Joseph’s hand touched yours and you looked into his eyes. He was staring into yours really intensively.

„Stay next to me, my child. Please.“ He stroked your hand lightly and get his hand off. It was fast touch, but you started to shake. You couldn’t almost breathe, your heart was in your throat. He could do that. So you sat back and you were all red.

„Thank you for coming to our regular dinner, my sons and daughters. We have a lot to discuss, so enjoy your meal.” He smiled at everyone and they started to clap quietly. Then he said a quiet prayer and everybody caught hand by his right side - Faith holds onto you and you were holding Joseph’s hand. Everyone had to wish a good meal to his neighbor.

„Enjoy your meal, dear.“ Faith smiled and look to the person by her left side. You looked onto Joseph who was wishing good meal to Jacob. You looked into each other’s eyes and he smiled and you.

„Enjoy your meal, Father.” You whispered and you felt Jacob’s look. Joseph stroked your hand carefully and lightly, skin to skin and touch to touch. „Thank you, my dear.“ He smiled and let your hand go. Jacob looked at you once again and drank one more time. His look was cold as ice and you were scared.

The meal was a nice thing. Everyone was really chatty and sometimes even asked your opinion. Joseph smiled when you talked and even praised your answers. But Joseph’s brothers were watching you - their looks were ice cold and it made you nervous. After the meal and a half an hour later was the discussion done and Joseph’s guests started to leave his residence. You were about to leave too, but someone stopped you in the garden. It was Faith, she was holding your hands.

„Joseph wants to talk to you. Wait for him in his guest room in on the second floor.” She said and ran away.

Inside the dining room

The brothers were sitting around the table, quietly and calmly. They were drinking wine.

„Joseph… Who is the woman?“ John broke the silence first. His older brother looked at him a drank once again.

„(Y/N) (Y/S/N). She is one of my first followers. She is the best friend of mine when I can’t talk to you, I can talk to her.”

„No. Joseph stop this bullshit of yours. We are your brothers, not your followers.“ Jacob said really loud, but he didn’t actually shout. Joseph gave him a cold blood look. 

„She is the reason why we’re still doing sermons in that old church, isn’t she?” Jacob asked with a sarcastic smile. Joseph shut his mouth and his eyes turned into ice-cold steel. 

„Oh my fucking God.“ Jacob started to laugh loudly. 

„You like her, don’t you, Joseph?” John said quietly. The two of his brothers looked at each other and then both of them looked back on their brother.

„You know, that I can’t like her. She is the only friend of my faith. That’s all.“ Joseph tried to convince them once again. Jacob smashed his hand onto the table really hard - so hard that his younger brothers scoffed.

„I’m telling you, my dear brother, for the last time. Stop that bullshit. Be honest with yourself.”

„Yes, Joseph,“ John said. „Be honest with us. We were at this point once.”

„What do you mean, we were at this point?“ Said Joseph slowly and put his glass on the table quickly.

„You don’t remember her?” Jacob reminded him of the first object of lust. It was a young girl from free Hope County that he fell for last time. She was killed by one of his cultists - and Joseph ended up with a really fucked up mind. It couldn’t happen again - and yet it happened.

Yet he was falling again. He was falling for you. He was falling for your love for him as a Father, he was falling for that look in your eyes and he even liked you physically. Lust on his belly was itching really bad. You were his favorite lamb. His little bird. You were someone whom he wanted to share that beautiful sin. You were his little sunshine.

„We are in that situation again.“ John agreed. The brothers were watching each other.„She makes you vulnerable, brother. We need a strong leader now, Joseph. A woman can’t be in your life right now.” Jacob said and leaned forward to Joseph.

„Yes, Joseph. She has to go.“John did the same thing. They were right and Joseph knew that. He couldn’t keep any woman in his life. It would be changing his decisions and his point of view. But he couldn’t let you go. He couldn’t let you be with any other man. He was falling for you and you were his.

„I don’t want to let her go,” Joseph whispered and shook his head. He clapped his hands in a praying gesture and his look was on ice point. 

„Joseph, just do it yourself and it will be better - she’s going to die either way. It’s for your country’s good - for good of many. You need to be alone. With your brothers and sister, you’re strong for your whole family. With her, you’re going to be weak.“ Jacob was inches away from him - looking into his hurt soul.

Words of his brothers were pure true. You would be his ultimate weakness - he would give his heart and soul to you instead of his religion. Eden’s Gate would not be the most important thing in his life anymore. He was one of a kind man - he was really cold and psychotic on one hand and on the other he was loving and emphatic. That made vím unpredictable. Not even his brothers knew, what to think at that particular moment. He was looking into his plate and thought. Next moment he stood up and went deeper into his own house. 

„And don’t forget, Joseph. If you’re not going to do it, someone else from the members will murder her. She will be gone in every scenario.” Said his older brother and he swallowed another gasp of wine.

Ten minutes later in Joseph’s guest room

You were alone there for a really long time. You even thought that he will not come. You even studied his bookcases - there were only books connected to religion in some way. There were even books like Bible, Ramadan or Koran - you knew he only studied them. You were looking out of the window for a long time, but he didn’t come. You started to be sleepy and so you sat on a large sofa and rested your head a little - in the end, you took a nap. He came at that moment, but you were so beautiful in the position, that he hadn’t the heart to wake you.

„Ah, sorry, my child. I didn’t mean to wake you up.“ He was sitting ridiculously close to you and he stroked your head. He was different and you felt it. There was a sort of madness in his eyes that you’ve never seen before. He was smiling, but you thought it was really creepy. „Don’t be upset. Please, follow me.”You two walked into his own bedroom. It was a lot different than you expected. It was seriously empty - there was only his bed, closet in the corner and an old gramophone with some pieces of vinyl next to it. 

You were looking at him the whole time - he started to take his coat and his shirt off. You knew him better like he was right now. His body was full of ink tattoos, “tattoos” made by John and full of scars and bruises. He was “dressed” like that during his sermons and so it wasn’t strange - no, it was familiar. „Is everything ok, Joseph?“ You asked voicelessly and those mad wild eyes glanced at you. You didn’t know this Father. The person inside that shirtless body definitely wasn’t him. But looked like him. 

It was him. It was your Father. It was a person, who believed in you and you believed in him. You loved him and he loved you - in the purest way possible, he loved you as much as father adores his child. You tried to cheer and calm yourself, but he took one of the pieces of vinyl and played it on that old gramophone. 

„Don’t worry, (Y/N). Don’t worry my child and come. Come and dance with your Father.” He opened up his arms to you and went to him. You trusted him endlessly. He wouldn’t harm you. At least you trusted it. 

He locked his arms around your waist rock hard and your belly has bumped into his. You were dancing in small circles, and through he held you so hard, you didn’t touch him. After a while, you stopped and his mad eyes looked deeply into yours through his lemon glasses. Your hands have finally lied on his shoulders and even a bit lower. You were surprised - his body was welcoming you by it’s warm. You were shocked - you were as close as you were now and you already loved it. 

„You wanted to know it. To know God’s plan for you.“ He said quietly and suddenly… He kissed you. The first kiss was easy and your lips barely touched. But you fell for the second immediately. It was wild and nothing like you expected. Once or twice you tongues met and in the end, you couldn’t even breathe. You stopped and looked at each other for a while.

„This is his purpose with you, my dove.” He whispered into your ear and he kissed you have finally swallowed. You felt it in the first second - something on you your tongue. It was some powder. He kissed you again, so you couldn’t analyze it. Your head was spinning and your heart was bumping rock hard. It was hurting you. You shivered in his arms, unable to breathe. 

„You were meant as my weakness, someone that I can be vulnerable a little. So you have to go visit him and await me there.“ And then you felt it. The pain in your stomach. You felt how blood is leaving your body with a small stab in your belly. He stabbed you with a knife. And he drugged you. You felt that you’re crying and falling, but he held you. And then he stabbed you again. And again, and again. His lips were pressed onto your forehead and his eyes were closed. He was crying, tears were all over his face.

„Father… Joseph…” He finally lied your body on the ground and you stroked his face with your shaking hand. 

„You were my favorite sheep of them all. And that was wrong. Now you’ll find your peace, my dove. My sweetest (Y/N).“ He kissed your forehead and you finally passed out.

After your murder

He took you dead body into his arms. He was caressing your hair quietly, he stroked your legs with his other hand. He couldn’t believe what happened and he was waiting for you to talk to him. A few minutes ago, you were in his arms, alive and beautiful as ever, kissing his lips passionately. You were his favorite sheep moments ago. He kissed your forehead once again and finally left off of stairs. He walked through the dining room with you in his arms. He was quiet and the madness was finally leaving his mind and body. He was finally calm - with the woman of his dreams in his hands. 

You were ideal for him - you listened and you were really smart. You could talk for hours and hours a and he felt hell’s flames when you kissed him as tender as you did. He disappointed once again - he felt lust. He walked into the garden with you in his arms.

Cold wind stroked him and grass was whispering your name. He was walking toward the near river and your name was written all over his brain. He loved you - and that was bad. The situation was solved now. He walked on near cliff, he stood on the top and looked down. 

„You were the blessed, my dove. You were the one.” He whispered and throw tour body into the ice-cold running river. Water hugged your corpse and locked your hair. Blood did lovely pedestal around you and you were beautiful.

„But Father can’t have his favorite child.“ He turned away from you and let you flow. From now on, he was the strongest again. 

He was the Prophet again.

-play Red Sex by the Vessel, please-

Minions and Master – an army of obedient servants needed

from Gifts of Deceit – Sun Myung Moon, Tong-sun Park and the Korean Scandal by Robert B. Boettcher  (pages 144-148) An army of obedient servants would have to be recruited and trained to restore the Kingdom of Heaven to earth under Sun Myung Moon. They would have to work as people had never before worked because there had never been such a great mission. They would have to go wherever Moon sent them to raise the $300 million he needed for making his project worldwide and the billions more he needed to control the wealth of the planet. But Moon did not have shiploads of chained tribal people at his disposal when he arrived in America in 1971. Involuntary servitude was against the law. Could he make people think they were actually willing to be slaves?   He got the answer he wanted from idealistic American youth. He and they were ready for each other. They were people in the age group eighteen to twenty-four, in transition from adolescence to adulthood, student to professional, getting in or getting out of school, family life to life alone. For one in search of a coherent view of the world, college had the effect of making things more confusing by presenting so many different approaches to life without identifying one as altogether right. In the “real” world, problems abounded, from family disunity to the threat of nuclear destruction. At best, things were in disarray; at worst, life was chaotic, depressing. Such minds were fertile soil. Their idealism was the key. Describe how happy people would be if discord could be turned into harmony. Show how this can be done through unified love for God. Then play on the distance between what a person thinks he is and what he wants to be. Hold up ideals and make him ashamed of not living up to his own standards. Instill ideas of self-worthlessness. Make him feel guilty about putting concern for himself above group unity. The burden of guilt could be lightened by working as a family with others who believe the ideals can be attained here on earth. The family has a father who will lead the way. The harder one works for Father, the closer one gets to achieving the goal. Follow Father. God has shown him alone the path to perfection because he is the Messiah.   Moon taught a clear strategy for attracting prospective converts. Until the prospect is converted, he must not know that a strategy is being used. Later he will appreciate being deceived because the motive was his own salvation. First, all church members must make as many new acquaintances as possible. Befriend them by taking a personal interest; do not disagree with their views, whether right or wrong. Do favors. Find the right style to use on each kind of person. Classify his personality. Introduce him to a church member with a similar personality, but don’t reveal that he is a church member. Meet together like that two or three times. Get into conversations on current issues, ethics, or morality. Then say, “I know where there are many serious young people talking about things like this,” or “I have heard of some lectures about a new philosophy, very sincere, very interesting, talking about the problems of life. I would appreciate it if you would go with me so I can get your opinion on it.” The prospect will pay attention to the lecture because he has been asked for criticism. When he says it was wonderful, say, “Oh, I don’t know. Not necessarily so.” But suggest going again in order to learn more about it.   Chris Elkins was president of his fraternity at the University of Arizona when John Shea, a recent acquaintance, invited him to attend a lecture about something called the One World Crusade. What he heard was philosophical, nonreligious, and interesting. So he went again each week for a month or more. The One World Crusade was explained as a movement encompassing all aspects of life. He was impressed by the magnetism of the lecturer, Dr. Joseph Sheftick. He and his fifteen or twenty followers had an aura of confidence, friendliness, and sincerity. They related well to his own interests and seemed warmly concerned about him. As the lectures progressed, a Korean named Sun Myung Moon was mentioned as a great teacher, but the main stress was on the coming of a Messiah to build heaven on earth. It dawned on Elkins that Sun Myung Moon must be the Messiah in question, although no one had said he was. During dinner with the group one night, he stated that observation. Dr. Sheftick raised his head, sat up straight, and announced, “We have a new brother: Chris Elkins.”   Elkins did not affirm Sheftick’s declaration, nor did he deny it. He simply went along for the time being. In fact, he was seriously considering joining. The goals were so noble: peace and brotherhood at all levels. Fund-raising didn’t appeal to him, but he could swallow it because he felt he and the movement really belonged together. And the people gave him so much love and attention that he couldn’t just say no. His best friend tried to dissuade him. When his family protested, Dr. Sheftick warned that Satanic forces work best through those most loved.   Euphoria prevailed during his honeymoon period with the Moon cult. Then the atmosphere became more serious. Elkins didn’t like fasting and staying up all night praying aloud with the others. After a couple of weeks, it all seemed too heavy. Driving back to Illinois to visit his mother in the hospital, he was in a daze. He tried to think things out. What had he got into? Was this the life for him, separated from the rest of the world? The love … the concern … heaven on earth… . What if Moon was really what they said he was? Could he risk losing what they offered? From Illinois, he called the group. It felt good to hear their voices. He would return.   He resigned as president of the fraternity. The Moonies sent him to Phoenix to fund-raise by selling peanuts on the street. He was still restless because Satanic spirits were at work inside him, so he was grateful that another member was by his side at all times. His parents wanted the car back, but a leader chided him: “Who needs it more? Your parents or the movement?”   He was learning. The great crusade required everything he had. The attachment to Father must be total, as Father said: Your whole body, every cell of your body, every movement, every facial motion, even every piece of hair, every ounce of energy must be directed to this one point.   Just as other members were always with him physically, Father was always with him too: You must live with me spiritually all the time—while you are eating, while you are sleeping, while you are in the bathroom, while you are taking a bath, taking a rest, even in dreams you can be sitting with me and discussing with me. That’s the only way. This is the secret of our movement. Whoever has that basic, fundamental attitude and that spiritual power will perform miracles.   Spiritual regeneration required mental somersaults. What once seemed true was now false. What once seemed unreal was now real. The world Elkins had known since birth was the product of original sin. The fall of Adam opened the floodgates to Satanic spirits, which had inundated the lives of Elkins’s ancestors. If he gave himself to Moon completely, he could rid himself of that awful heritage and be restored…

Book review: Robert Boettcher’s Gifts of Deceit insightfully and thoroughly documents the activities and findings of the Fraser Committee. This congressional subcommittee (through its 1978 report) on International Organizations opened a window on a world in Washington which many would prefer to see closed forever. The report of this committee, informally called the Fraser Report, exhaustively documents and details Sun Myung Moon’s role in working to shape American foreign policy. It further names a whole host of characters including American politicians, military leaders, Korean diplomats, former Japanese prime ministers, not to mention President Dwight D. Eisenhower who, wittingly or unwittingly, wound up acting as agents or surrogates for Sun Myung Moon and his “Unification Church”. In addition to reading like a first rate who dunnit Boettcher’s book gives the reader a behind the scenes look at official Washington, which to this day has done nothing about the principal findings of the Fraser Committee: namely that the Unification Church has engaged in systematic violations of U.S law. Banking and currency laws, securities and exchange commission laws, Immigration and naturalization laws and charities fraud laws. Boettcher’s book is the first book which reveals the global geo-political ambitions of the Moon organization. It is a must for students of foreign relations, students of destructive cults, and for students of the U.S. Constitution – particularly those who take an interest in the first and the thirteenth amendments. Allen Tate Wood     2001

United States Congressional investigation of the Unification Church Robert Boettcher’s mysterious death – New York Times http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gifts_of_Deceit

Bo Hi Pak and The Origins of KCFF

Young Love

In this one Rook had a husband, the lovely David, and though they divorced they retain feelings for each other. David is a sweet, gentle loving man. He’s gonna get eaten alive by the Seeds.

  Rook and David had gotten married when they were teenagers, young and believing they knew everything about life. They tried to make it work for several years but found themselves in different places and quietly divorced but agreed to remain friends.

  The Resistance of Hope County and Project Eden’s Gate were at a tentative truce because there were hellish monsters eating people in the night. These monsters weren’t part of Joseph’s Collapse and they were killing indiscriminately making them a problem for everyone. Rook and some of the Whitetails had managed to free a group that was taken by the monsters. Among them was her ex-husband.

 “So, you got taken by monsters? I always thought the Cult got you.” She muttered as she was patching him up at the Station. Faith and Joseph flickered on the fringes, helping the Peggies that had been freed with the others. David laughed.

 “Just my luck, right? There’s a crazy cult and I get nabbed by monsters.” He grabbed her hand and looked at her. “Thanks for saving me. Again.”

 “That’s two you owe me, kid.” She teased, feeling heat rushing into her face. He grinned back at her and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles.

 “Deputy could you lend a hand? We need to reset the bone in his leg and Jacob isn’t here to help hold him down.” Faith called cheerfully and Rook sighed, gently pulling her hands free.

 “Duty calls.” She sighed and gave him one last smile before settling beside Faith to help poor man that had his leg broken.

  Rook chuckled softly as some of the children gathered around her listening to her retellings of Fairytales and magic.

 “Are you gonna be the Knight that saves Lady Faith, Ms. Deputy?” One of the little girls asked.

 “Uh…”

 “No way she and Lord John are gonna be together ‘member? He said he gots the church all ready for her.”

 “That wasn’t exactly…”

 “No way she should marry Mr. Jacob because he’s big and strong and he can protect Ms. Deputy!”

 “I think the Father and Ms. Deputy should be married ‘cause he loves her and just wants to make her happy. He says so all the time.” They continued to argue over who she should marry when one of them suddenly looked up.

 “Why don’t you just marry them all?”

 “Yeah! We can marry you to Father Joseph and Lord John and Lady Faith and Mr. Jacob! Then you can stay with us forever!”

 “Let’s go ask Father Joseph if we can marry him to Ms. Deputy!” They rushed off while she was still frozen in place.

 “What just happened?”

 “It looks like you just got yourself engaged to a bunch of crazy cult leaders via children.” David muttered and she jumped.

 “Jesus! Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

 “Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly. “You wanna get outta here for a bit? I found this little pond not too far away and there’s still a whole afternoon’s worth of daylight. Not that I’m scared. I’ll be in the sacred protection of Ms. Deputy.” He pointed at her with finger guns.

 “Ass.” She shoved his shoulder but followed after him. It would be nice to have some breathing room other than Jerome’s church.

  David was used to watching Rook, she really was a sight to behold. She was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Even when covered in blood and arguing about going back into the nest to try to get the other hunters, that had a few months earlier been trying to kill/capture her, and save them. Pratt, Grace, Jacob, and the Sheriff weren’t budging on the matter calling it a suicide mission. This did not put her in a good mood. He knew she’d need time to cool off and almost reached out to stop Faith and John as they tried to follow her but she was quick to snap at them.

 “I don’t feel like being drugged or drowned. Why don’t you fuck off and go pretend you want to save people somewhere else?” She hissed before turning on her heel sharply and storming off.

 “Mark me down as horny and scared.” Sharky muttered.

 “When she’s upset you gotta let her be mad for a while. Or she’ll bite your head off.” David sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

  Rook stomped into the river, dove under, and screamed. She surfaced, took a gulp of air, and dove back to scream again. She surfaced again and slapped the water around her. Once she’d tired herself out she slunk back to the river bank and settled into the field. She ignored the fact that Joseph had followed her and witnessed this act of childishness. She ignored everything but her frustration over the fact that there were people she couldn’t help, people she couldn’t save. She panted and glared at the horizon.

 “Your anger is justified.” She listened to him shuffle closer and sit next to her. “However, we cannot afford to lose you.”

 “I’m not worth any more then they are.” Her voice was rough, her throat hurt. She half wanted to scream again but didn’t.

 “You are worth very much.” She glanced at him and then flopped backward onto the grass.

 “Why are you so hellbent on saving me?”

 “The Lord works in mysterious ways.” He hummed and started to sing softly. Rook huffed and threw her arm across her eyes and felt her anger slowly loosening its grip. Joseph’s voice was stupidly pleasant to listen to.

  Rook was enjoying a quiet night not out on patrol, she was forced to relax by Jess and Adelaide with Grace dragging her to the Spread Eagle. She wouldn’t actually drink enough to full on impair herself, but she had a pleasant buzz, enough that she let John sit next to her and didn’t antagonize him deliberately. She was a touch worried that the more time she spent in the company of the Seeds the more she started to like them.

 “And with the Power of Yes so many doors open.”

 “Oh my god.” She laughed softly. “John that is like a very sick version of one of David’s marriage proposals please tell me you haven’t been asking for tips? I never actually said yes to any of his proposals; I was the one who asked him when the time came.” He blinked at her and she took a drink of her ale and shook her head.

 “Wait a second David ain’t lyin’? You were really married?” Sharky announced loudly.

 “Say it a little louder Sharky, I don’t think the whole county heard you.” He grinned and sucked in a breath, but Adelaide shoved a moon pie in his mouth while smiling brightly at Rook.

 “Now I know you know better than to ask a lady about her ex’s honey.” She glanced at him frostily. “Shame about it though, you and David are cute together. He seems like the perfect domestic housewife.”

 “David is a good guy.” She looked at the last dregs of her drink and shrugged. “We were better friends at the time.”

 “And now?” John’s voice was very controlled, it put Rook on high alert she looked over at him warily.

 “As of right now I don’t have time for a relationship with anyone. Monsters to fight and a County to Liberate.”

 “When this little rebellion is over then.” He smiled at her, they were nose to nose. “After you get the courage to say yes.”

 “John if I ever say yes it won’t be willingly. I’ll never give you the satisfaction.”

 “We’ll see now won’t we Deputy?”

 “Can you two just fuck already? This weird tension is giving me an awkward boner.” Sharky had eaten himself free. Rook reeled back from John’s space and blamed the heat in her cheeks on the alcohol she’d consumed before getting up.

 “Well I’m leaving before this gets any more uncomfortable.” She announced and speed walked out the door.

  David found Staci with Jacob and Rook. He wondered if he should be concerned that the Deputy was constantly half a step behind Rook or Jacob, he was never without one of them. He wondered how he was going to get him to go see the doctor when he was spotted. Jacob’s piercing blue eyes zeroed in on him and he tried not to shiver. The utter disgust and disapproval in his stare was unnerving and David had to wonder what he did to earn that reaction from the Soldier. Luckily Rook took notice of him and grinned waving from where they were standing. A Judge and Boomer were cuddling on the ground next to their respective masters.

 “Yo.” She called and he waved back.

 “Hey you guys mind if I borrow Staci? Doc says he hasn’t been in for his checkup.” Staci’s eyes widened and he looked nervously from Jacob to Rook and back.

 “Actually I haven’t seen Doc Brown in a while either, mind if I join you?” Staci relaxed a bit but kept his back ramrod straight.

 “Please tell me you’re not going to make references to cheesy ‘80’s movies the whole time?” He teased.

 “Nah only like four fifths of the time.” She smirked. “Mind watching Boomer for me Dave? Don’t want him getting a makeover.” She shot Jacob a look and he grinned at her.

 “You can always teach an old dog new tricks.”

 “I’d rather he not run around with a red cross on his face and without his tail. How else is he supposed to show he enjoys ripping a gun out of a Peggie’s hands and bringing it back to me?” She smirked before turning on her heel and Staci fell into step with her. “Thanks David!”

 “I didn’t agree to this!”

 “You’re the best! Please don’t murder him!” She yelled back and David had a feeling she wasn’t talking to him for half of that. He glanced back at Jacob and was once more having a death glare sent his way. Once Rook and Staci had completely disappeared down the hallway Jacob finally spoke.

 “The Strong don’t mate with the Weak.” He said ominously. “My Deputy doesn’t need any more Weakness than I already allow.” Before David could reply Jacob whistled and headed off with the Judge following him. Boomer stayed beside David but looked sad that his cuddle partner had left them.

 “Rook is in trouble boy.” He confided to the dog, resolving to talk to her about this once she wrapped up with the doctor.

  Rook was leaning back in Jacob’s chair reading something while Staci was being examined by Dr. Brown, who only shared a name with the character since she was a young woman in her forties and not a crazy man in his fifties, actual medical doctor not a half-cracked scientist that was right.

 “Peaches ain’t bit the Doc yet?”

 “I haven’t heard any screams so progress.” She glanced up at Jacob as he stood in the doorway. “From your lack of gore I take it David is still alive. Thanks.” She looked back down at the book in her hands.

 “For now the Weak like him have a purpose.” He stepped into his office and edged around his desk to stand behind her. Her shoulders tensed and she was watching him out of the corner of her eye.

 “Oh yeah? And what is that exactly?”

 “Cannon fodder for the Strong.” He leaned over her and she shallowed her breathing and kept still. “You shouldn’t let Weakness like that distract you Pup.”

 “According to you I am Weak.” She spat his words back at him. “Besides David has me to be strong for him.” She turned and glared at him defiantly.

 “You have Weakness, but you aren’t Weak. There’ll be no need to Cull you once this is over. But if you want to keep playing this game I can show you who is stronger.” They continued to stare at each other until there was a yelp from down the hall. “Sound like Peaches finally snapped.” She sighed and stood but wasn’t able to leave until he allowed her to. She frowned at him and he smirked at her before letting her pass to rescue the doctor.

  David caught up with Rook as she was heading to Faith’s Bunker to check in on the children and make sure that their food levels were still holding steady.

 “Hey can we talk?” He asked, not really having it be a question but knowing better than to try and corner her in confrontation.

 “Sure walk with me.” She motioned him to follow her. “What’s up?”

 “So I think that Jacob Seed is obsessed with you.”

 “I’m aware.”

 “You’re a – seriously? This doesn’t bother you at all?”

 “What am I supposed to do about it? We need all the capable allies we can get right now and afterward I’ll go back to trying to arrest them.”

 “Rook the more you’re around them the more you’re in danger.”

 “What would you have me do David? Stop fighting? Stop trying to free Hope? I can’t walk away from my home.”

 “What the hell is the Sheriff doing? Or that Marshall? Shouldn’t they call for the FBI or the National Guard? Why does it have to be you?”

 “Because no one else was strong enough, no one else managed to escape!” They stopped and were staring at each other. “Look I get it that this is all new to you and it freaks you out up I’m not going to stop fighting for Hope and I’m not going to turn away good help in our time of need, even if it means I have to suck up my pride.”

 “And when Jacob decides you’re too nice, too weak, and turns on you? What then?” David felt tears in his eyes and he knew he shouldn’t get in her space, but he couldn’t help it. Rook was putting her life in danger and he couldn’t stand it. He could never stand to watch her think so little of herself. “I love you. I can’t bare to watch you get killed for the good of others.” Her angry eyes vanished and she stared at him in shock.

 “David?” She whispered softly. They were so close to each other.

 “Deputy!” Faith’s voice rang out and then she was latching herself to Rook’s arm. “When you weren’t on time we were getting worried.” The children that Faith had, the orphans of the county, circled around them and effectively created a barrier between them.

 “Sorry we got caught up in conversation.”

 “Oh? Is it serious? If you’re nervous I could help you walk the Path, David. The Father’s Wisdom reveals all and will help you settle.”

 “No thanks.” Faith smiled but it didn’t reach her eyes.

 “Later then? I’m sure Joseph would love to have you among the Flock.” It sounded like a threat. David faintly realized it was a threat. Rook growled softly and glared at Faith.

 “Leave him alone.” Faith giggled and snuggled closer to Rook’s side.

 “When all the Monsters are gone we’ll talk more about Bliss and the Path.” She assured and tugged Rook away. David frowned but followed. He wasn’t going to abandon her and he was more than willing to fight for the woman he loved. Even if it was against two of the Seeds.

Texe Marrs Exposed

Texe Marrs has discovered that a number of left-wing, liberal websites are claiming the falsehood that he is a member of the Ku Klux Klan, is a white supremacist, and is an Alt-Right Identity preacher who is saying that God chose Donald Trump to punish and exterminate the Jews. Texe Marrs Exposed Sherlock Season 3 Episode 4 Encarta Kids 2009 Download Open Source Display Software Download Wallhack Cs 1.6 F1 Sony Vaio Care Windows 10 64 Bit Itunes Download File Penguin Catapult Game Minecraft Full Download Mediafire.

Tex Marrs Teaches Replacement Theology

Texe Marrs Exposed Concrete

Texe Marrs Articles

Texe Marrs First Wife

codex magica mysterious monuments conspiracy of six pointed star

Exclusive Intelligence Examiner Report

Texe Marrs

Mormonism is a Judaic cult that has robbed millions of victims of their money and their souls

The founder of the Mormon Church, Joseph Smith, was a practicing occultist as well as a serial adulterer whose own mother said often told “tall tales.” His tallest tale was that an angel named Moroni gave him golden plates and that the Father and His Son, Jesus, personally appeared to him.

Mormonism’s most famous leader was Brigham Young, a polygamist and cunning religious manipulator who secretly ordered the savage murder of dozens of innocent men, women, and children.

Now, today, the Mormon Church, which prefers to be called the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints, is proud to present as its candidate for the high office of President of the United States one Mittens Romney, a smiling, flip-flopping con man whose sole claim to fame is having been a sock puppet and figurehead leader of an Israeli Zionist proprietary organization known as Bain and Co.

The Chairman of the Board of Bain is Orit Gadiesh, a former Mossad agent and spy queen whose father was an Israeli army general. Bain was set up in business by elitist Masonic chieftains, the same corrupt group that hired now Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu. Netanyahu and Romney were Boston pals and Masons chosen as young men by the Zionist elite for big things solely because of their bloodline and wealthy families.

Former Bain CEO Mitt Romney fits perfectly in the mold of satanist Mormons Joseph Smith and Brigham Young who went before him. All three are proven liars and criminals. The Mormon Church is itself built on a shaky foundation of lies, slanders, heresies, sex deviate conduct and murders. Its entire history is stained with blood and crime.

So, of course, is the history of Israel and the Jews loaded to the brim with monstrous criminality. It is not surprising, then, that the Mormon sect is, in fact, nothing more than a Judaic cult. It is, moreover, a dangerous cult that can never be washed clean of its mire and grime. Therefore, if Mitt Romney, whose own testimony is that of a dedicated and faithful priest and servant of the Mormon Church, is elected President of the United States and is duly sworn into office on January 20, 2013, that event will mark the incredible rise of an occultic antichrist religion built on a mountain of outrageous and absurd lies.

Mormonism, a pagan Judaic cult of Masonic origins, will have placed its representative in the White House in the person of President Mitt Romney. As such, he will be controller and master over much of the earth. In this high position, he will be director of the world’s greatest military force and overseer of a money printing combine, the Federal Reserve System, primed to facilitate the most massive financial crash and economic catastrophe in the annals of humanity.

I say, if a man or woman votes for Mitt Romney, why not be honest and simply write-in on the ballot the name of the one who, as Romney’s superior and Lord, will really be in charge? That would be Lucifer, also known as Satan the devil.

Under Mormon priest Romney and his vice president, the Roman Catholic Paul Ryan, America will descend into the very depths of a Leviathan Zionist hell. What’s more, we will have fallen into a serpents’ pit in which the serpents—the combined world crime factory of some 30 million Zionist Mormons and Jews—prescribe for our nation a demonic overdose of psychopathic inducing steroids.

The tragedy, of course, is that some forty million other Americans, those of the Baptist, Pentecostal, Assembly of God, and other denominations and groups who say they are “evangelicals”—erroneously believe that the Jews and Israel are “God’s Chosen People.” This in spite of the fact that Judaism and its rabbis teach that Jesus is a blasphemer and occultist burning forever in fiery excrement in hell (Talmud, Gitten 57a ) and that his mother, Mary, was a slut and a whore who bore Jesus out of wedlock, thanks to her supposed affair with a Roman Centurion.

Long-time associates Mitt Romney and Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu were initiated as Masonic brothers. After college, they worked side-by-side for a Zionist firm in Boston. If Romney becomes President, together the two will immerse America into a fiery, boiling Leviathan pit.(At right) Like many other young Mormon males, Mitt Romney (left) is a draft dodger who used his stint as a young Mormon missionary to avoid serving in the Army during the Vietnam War era.

Sadly, very few evangelicals are even remotely aware of these vicious teachings by the Jews and their rabbis and so they continue to exalt the Jews as a holy and wonderful people whom God has chosen to dominate and rule the world.

Now come the Mormons. Thanks to a clever, ongoing propaganda campaign by Romney and his Salt Lake City, Utah, theocratic cronies, the evangelicals, as well as tens of millions of other deluded American citizens, have been fed the stupid and ignorant deception that Mormonism is simply another “Christian” faith and that Mormons are dedicated to their Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Brigham Young was a tyrant, a con man, a polygamist, and a murderer. Today’s Mormons honor him as a saint.

Unbelievable! Folks, the Mormon Church is a Luciferian New Age Church. More, it is a Judaic cult which actually teaches in its doctrinal books and texts the notion that God the Father is an exalted man of flesh, bones and blood who came to earth and had physical sex with Mary. (According to the Mormons, there was no virgin birth.) From this sexual coupling, Jesus was born in the flesh. Mormonism says that Jesus’ brother is Lucifer (yes, Lucifer, the devil!), and that Jesus is only one of millions of gods in the universe. Does that sound like a Christian faith to you?

Brigham Young (the Utah-based university is named after this swindler) even claimed that Adam (you know, of Adam and Eve fame) is the real “God” whom we must worship. Many Mormons today hold to the view that, “Adam, not Jesus, is coming again.”

There’s more heresy too—boat loads of it. Like the Mormon teaching that Jesus did not die on the cross for our sins. Then there is the Mormon belief that Jesus had three wives he slept with while here on earth—Mary Magdalene and the two sisters of Lazarus. Jesus, the Mormons hold, has sex these days with countless other wives added to his marital collection.

Since the Mormons were founded by a Mason, Joseph Smith, naturally, the Mormon male is initiated by ceremonies originating from Masonic philosophies and using Masonic handshakes, symbols, language and signals. Mitt Romney, like all high-level Mormon priests, is required to wear his white “union” underwear with the Masonic square and compass embroidered or printed on the breast and other devilish Masonic symbols on the knees. (Ask Mitt about that at his next campaign stop).

Mormonism’s criminal founder Joseph Smith was well known as a con artist who ripped people off by claiming he could magically discover the location of gold mines and hidden treasure by using an occultic divining “peepstone.” He was arrested for this and put in jail for a short spell. Later, in jail once again, Joseph Smith was murdered by an angry lynch mob that accused the Mormon founder of stealing other mens’ land and wives. A “Jupiter” magic lucky charm was found on his possession, in his pocket. Its alleged miraculous powers obviously failed the slain “Prophet of Mormonism.”

Joseph Smith was a handsome and charismatic fellow who had a grand total of twenty-seven wives. His successor, Brigham Young, continued the practice of polygamy. After Smith’s death, Brigham Young and the “church” fled the increasingly hostile Midwest and brought thousands of Mormon faithful to the desert “oasis” of Utah. There he ruled as a tyrant and created the “Danites,” a vigilante group that tormented and murdered ex-Mormons and other designated enemies.

Mormon gunmen murdered innocents of a wagon train and seized their gold and belongings. Called the Mountain Meadows Massacre (1857), it was ordered by Mormon leader Brigham Young.

When the Mormon hierarchy heard of a wagon train passing by on its way to California, Brigham Young sent out a murderous bunch to massacre the innocent passersby. History books today refer to it as the “Mountain Meadows Massacre.” It seems that the Mormons had advance knowledge of some gold the wagon train settlers had in their possession. Old Brigham Young, like his predecessor in crime, Joseph Smith, was a scheming crook, and so he determined to seize it. The men, women, and most of the children were savagely killed. Some were scalped.

Sounds a lot like what today’s Israeli Zionists have done to the innocent Palestinians, doesn’t it?

Today, Mitt Romney believes Joseph Smith to be a true prophet of God and Brigham Young to be a saint. Thus, Romney follows in the tradition of these past Mormon devils in human clothing. “And no marvel, for Satan himself is transformed into an angel of light. Therefore it is no great thing if his ministers also be transformed as the ministers of righteousness; whose end shall be according to their works” (II Corinthians 11:14,15).

Most Americans have been duped into believing that Mormons are a wholesome, clean-living religious group. Not so. Mormonism infects all who profess it. Would you believe me if I told you that the violent crime rate (murders, rapes, armed robberies, etc.) for Salt Lake City and most other Utah cities is among the highest in the nation? Most people have heard different, but those are the facts.

Tex Marrs Teaches Replacement Theology

Mormon businessmen, like their Jewish counterparts, favor each other and many do not hesitate to rip off and defraud “Gentiles.” Gentiles, that’s what the Mormons call you and me. Meanwhile, they fancy themselves to be “Israelites” of the tribes of Ephraim and Manassas. Their goal is a Zionist Kingdom on earth. Mormonism, I stress once again, is a Judaic (Jewish) cult.

Texe Marrs Exposed Concrete

Mitt Romney is personally well known as a dishonest “flip-flopper” who can’t be trusted. One day he’s pro-life and anti-gay. The next day he’s just the opposite. In my opinion that’s the mark of Jews and Mormons: doublemindedness. That’s why Masons (Freemasonry is also a Judaic cult) have, as their 33rd degree logo, the Eagle with two heads!

Texe Marrs Articles

In the Scriptures we are told that, “A doubleminded man is unstable in all his ways” (James 1:8). There you have it.

Jews, Masons, Mormons are all doubleminded. They pretend to be holy and pure. But just as Jesus warned, these doubleminded characters are devious, Judas-like backstabbers whose infamy will eventually come out.

Texe Marrs First Wife

This being so, for whom, then, should we vote for the high office of President of the United States? Obama is a socialist, even a closet communist, but his evil pales in comparison to that of the duplicitous Romney. Frankly, I prefer four more years under Obama than eight years under Romney. But I do not intend to vote for either Romney or Obama. Why give either man your support and endorsement? Better to spend your time and energy equipping and preparing yourself for hard times surely to come. And pray, yes, especially pray for yourself, your loved ones, and for America. Whoever wins, Obama or Romney, we, the people, will lose.

And Hell is Just a Sauna -- Part Four

Fandom: Marvel/MCU

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Author: @amandaoftherosemire

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 5,425

Format: Short Series (Complete)

Warnings: Violence, graphic and disturbing imagery, death, language, implied smut, fluff.

Summary: You meet Bucky Barnes upon your mysterious and deadly escape from a power obsessed cult leader and his followers. Though you carry a secret in addition to the wariness of trauma, you can’t help your attraction to Bucky and his irascible demeanor. As for Bucky, he is drawn to the light he sees in you while he fears the things you’re hiding. Can you trust him with your secrets, and your life? Will you have a choice?

A/N: When I told my husband about some of the things that happen in this chapter, he reacted with impressed horror and disgust. (He’s a great audience.) When I went to edit and proofread this chapter, however, that was in my mind and I realized that some of the things I describe in here are pretty weird and gross and I’m a little perturbed that I wrote them without realizing exactly how weird and gross they were. I wasn’t aware I also had a horror writer in here. Hmm. Anyway, fair warning: graphic horror movie style descriptions.

That said, these two were fun to write, and I might write more with them reuniting after the Blip. TFAWS was a gold mine for inspiration and I’m itching to write more Sam and Bucky interactions now that I have more of them in my head. Feel free to let me know if you want that. 😊

I would have had this up faster, but the God of Mischief has been busy of late and he was occupying my mind and my keyboard for the past several weeks. Every time I sat down to my computer, he took over and it has been too much fun to stop. Soon, I promise. 😉

 Part One // Part Two // Part Three // Part Four

 And Hell is Just a Sauna -- Part Four

 Bucky shook his head and snorted. "We're gonna have to have a talk about your timing, doll."

Bucky dragged his eyes from your retreating form to focus on the threat outside. He'd be damned if he'd let these assholes hurt you. Especially when he needed to hear you tell him you loved him again, when he still needed to tell you he loved you, too.

"JOSEPH!" You shouted as you threw the door open, your hair smoldering as you stepped over the body in the doorway. Your voice was a mockery of the strident tone he'd taken as you'd made him wait while you spoke to Bucky. You walked forward until you were standing at the          top of the stairs onto the front porch. "If you want me to be quick, do not send me meals. Or did you not send Brit as a sacrifice to the creature inside me?”

Joseph took a single step forward, losing his breath in a sigh of awe as your skin began to glow the red-orange of a fire's heart from the inside out, your eyes glowing molten gold as you spoke. "He's pleased that you'd send someone so valuable, but he also hopes you understand," your lips curved in a cruel, hungry smile as those brilliant eyes swept over the robed figures ranged behind him, "it's not going to be nearly enough.”

Bucky could see the shudder of fear run through the small crowd and figured at least half would panic and run should you attack. However, as he'd kept his eyes and the sight of his gun on Joseph, he could also see the desire on the other man's face as he eased closer when you didn't stop that first tentative step.

"That's not going to be a problem," the man said with pure lust in his voice.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky saw a twinkle of light just before a wall of flame erupted into being between Joseph and his followers, spreading from the left to the right. As he expected, half of them broke and ran immediately, joined by a few more besides. A few diehards ran towards the flames, but the heat screaming off of the fire easily kept them at bay. He figured Kiki was in control of them and focused in on the only threat left.

Joseph seemed mesmerized by the sight of you as you slowly descended the stairs toward him. "Are you a god?" You intoned the words in the same popping, roaring voice Bucky remembered from that first meeting and his eyes swept the scene for confirmation that Kiki was coming in from the left as her wall of fire indicated.

"I will be!" Joseph cried as he lunged towards you, only to stop abruptly at the blast of heated air that swept between you as the wall began to move in a swirl, whipped into a river of fire. The leading edge was bright gold with streamers of vibrant orange and red and hints of turquoise heat that hit the man directly in the chest and poured into him.

When he'd absorbed the last bit of fire, he looked up at you next to your front door where you'd retreated and smiled a cruel, anticipatory smile. His body continued to jerk and contort in wicked and unsettling ways that seemed to be preventing him from following you up the stairs to take his revenge.

You were deeply horrified by what was happening to him, though you didn't move any further away because you could hear Kiki muttering as she rummaged around inside Joseph. You didn't know what she was looking for, but you knew that he was dead as soon as she found it, either because of what she was doing or the man in the window waiting for his moment. You could see, however, that Joseph thought he was on the verge of victory, and you pitied him.

When you heard her crow in delighted discovery, you whispered, that pity ripe in your voice and on your face. "Good-bye, Joseph."

In the next instant, Kiki was clawing her way out of him, starting at his chest and climbing up his throat as he clutched his neck in nightmarish pain. Your eyes stayed dry, but you didn't enjoy suffering, even his. When the little flame body that Kiki had in this dimension came pushing out of Joseph's mouth in front of a hoarse scream, Bucky ended his torment with a single bullet to the heart.

The blackened body that fell to the ground was the last straw for the last few cultists who hadn't already fled. You saw them run for the forest in your peripheral vision but couldn't watch, your eyes glued to the happily chattering little fire trying to drag something out of Joseph's body.

As grateful as you were to never have to worry about Joseph ever again, you weren't made of stone and your stomach churned when Kiki managed to pry loose whatever it was she was so intent on retrieving. When the object fell heavily to the ground, she evidently lost her grip as she went tumbling several feet, but she was up and making cheerful scolding chuffs of sound in an instant.

The little flame creature scampered in merry leaps around something that looked like a dark quartz stone a little smaller than a tennis ball, with jagged spikes of black glass sticking out of the top. You frowned in confusion when Kiki continued to make huffing and scoffing noises that you couldn't understand as she got behind the rock and started pushing it forward.

"Y/N?" Behind you, Bucky murmured your name in a voice gentle with sympathy. Whatever else Joseph had been, he was pretty sure the man hadn't deserved to die like that. If he'd had his way, Bucky would have moved more quickly and made the end much less painful. On top of that, he hated that you'd had to see your little friend do something so gruesome.

"Yeah?" You sounded weird, like you were both puzzled and worried, but you didn't turn to look at him, your gaze on the wild flickering of Kiki on the ground next to the charred remains of what was once Joseph.

Bucky reached out, hoping he was doing the right thing, and slid his arm around your waist to pull you in and cradle you against his body. "Are you okay?"

"I guess?" If you weren't so focused on Kiki, you'd have melted at the tenderness in his tone, in his touch. As it was, you snuggled back into him even as you craned your neck to try and see what the little flame was up to. "I don't know what Kiki is doing. Kiki!"

Kiki's head popped up and she scampered forward a couple feet and shouted happily, It's Grumble! She scampered back and climbed on top of the stone, her front limbs wrapped around a couple of the spikes on top. I found Grumble in the human demon!

"What the hell is Grumble?" Your hand came up to grip Bucky's where it rested against your hip. As you stepped forward to get a closer look at whatever Kiki had found, you pulled him with you by the hand you kept wrapped around his, needing him with you. Stopping at the edge of the porch at the top of the stairs, you watched Kiki playfully rock back and forth on top of her discovery.

The little flame made the popping sound that served as her most delighted laugh, something you'd heard only a couple of times since you'd met her. No! Not Grumble. Grumble! You could hear very little difference between the two sounds, the second only more intense in its rumbling sound.

"That sounds like the same word, Keek."

Kiki laughed again and rocked the stone as her little head tilted down and she chuffed and rumbled at the object beneath her fiery feet. I love it! She shouted it in her popping, crackling language. She sounded so happy, so relieved, you relaxed by a fraction, enough to be tempted when she continued, Come meet Grumble, then, and waved you forward with one arm of flame.

You looked at Bucky, who was watching you communicate with Kiki with a raised brow and ready stance, not sure the danger was as over as he had believed. "She found someone named something that sounds like her word for 'grumble'."

Bucky tensed and his gaze dropped to the happy, chuffing fire where it was perched. He didn't know exactly what Kiki was, or what all she could do, but for now she resembled a small four-legged creature with a diamond shaped head and long almond shaped eyes made of blue flame. She scorched the ground wherever she ran, and he wondered if this was now why she seemed content to sit on her rock. "Where did she find this someone?"

Your mouth spread in a sickly expression, but it could still be described as an attempt at a winning smile. “Inside Joseph?" When Bucky understood that this was what Kiki had been doing between pouring her fire into him and the bullet through the heart that had ended it, the horror of it hit him like a brick. He looked back to you to find the same horror in your eyes. "I think?"

Bucky couldn't stop looking back and forth between you and the happy little flame continuing to scold the thing beneath her feet. "What is it?"

It's Grumble. She patted her hand against the obsidian spike she was holding and her eyes squinched up in delight. He's mine. He followed me through the hole but got confused and hid inside the demon man because I aimed at him. With that she dropped down and seemed to hug the stone, her flame wrapping close with what looked like affection.

You smiled a little at her apparent joy. "Okay." Still, you needed to know more about whatever had followed her from her world. She'd told you stories of some of the things that lived there. "But what is Grumble? Like, you're made of fire. What is he made of?" You were getting more and more curious, but you didn't move down the stairs yet, not sure that it was safe.

Oh! Kiki sounded surprised at the question, looking down at the stone she was perched upon with a head tilted in confusion. When she looked back up at you, that tilted head was a counterpoint to her perplexed tone. He's rock. You could almost hear the 'duh' that came after that sentence and you snorted softly in amusement. That's why he was so hard to move. Her voice took on a gentle, loving tone, and you realized that whatever or whoever Grumble was, he was evidently precious to Kiki. He's stubborn. And he's scared.

As you started down the stairs, you heard for the first time a rumbling at frequencies at the bottom of the audible range. You almost more felt the sound than heard it, so low were the vaguely annoyed growling noises that had Kiki answering in a spitting, roaring language that sounded like an approximation of them.

You got to the bottom of the stairs, doing everything in your power to keep your eyes on Kiki and her rock and not on what used to be Joseph. Once there, Kiki's face spread in what she used for a smile as she looked up at you and patted the stone beneath her again and said proudly, Grumble.

As he couldn't understand her, you explained to Bucky. "Grumble is this rock."

"I kind of figured that out for myself, thanks."

You shot Bucky a laughing grin, loving the irritated scowl on his face, delighted that he was back to regarding the world with a vague distrust. "He's also alive, and Kiki's friend. He followed her here when she got caught in Joseph's portal."

Bucky pulled you close and slung an arm around you to keep you there. "Pretty good friend." He smirked at you when his almost suggestive tone had your eyes flicking to his. You smirked back in acknowledgement before turning your gaze back to the flame creature that was now making a soothing chirring sound.

"Is it okay if I pick him up?" you asked her, needing to get away from Joseph as soon as possible. "So we can go inside?"

The little fire chirped a cheerful assent and nodded before immediately looking down to scold when the rock gave off what sounded like a hostile rumble. Bucky’s arm around your shoulders tightened slightly in response, a little concerned by it, and unwilling to watch you step again into peril so soon after the last time. "Let me, doll." You quirked a questioning eyebrow in his direction and he turned you in his arms to lean forward and brush your lips with his own, the gratitude he felt at having you safe bright in his eyes. He rested his forehead against yours, relief blowing through him, and smiled gently at you. "You've put yourself in danger enough tonight. I'm already gonna have nightmares."

You heard the dregs of fear in his voice, saw the relief of it in his face, and knew something of what it had cost him to watch you walk out the door to face Joseph. "Between Kiki," you answered, turning your cheek to tenderly rest it against his, "and you, I was never in any real danger."

Bucky's arms came around you in a move both fast and fierce. The next moment you were pressed firmly against him. His face was buried in your throat while he shuddered once, hard, before his hold gentled, and his lips brushed your skin as he spoke. "Sure didn't feel like it."

You simply held on, giving him the moment he needed to calm himself. He held you a moment longer than that, just for the joy of having you close. When he let you go, he flashed that million-watt grin of his that hit you like lightning every time and bent to pick up the little rumbly stone with his vibranium hand.

Kiki hopped out of the way and skittered up the hand you'd held out to nestle into her spot behind your ear where she could watch your world from your perspective. She had bonded herself to the roots of your hair, which is why your head started to smoke when she got angry. She was always more comfortable when she was closer to your scalp. From her perch she hissed in an encouraging tone towards the rock grumbling in Bucky's hand.

Bucky's eyes were on the stone, his brow furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concentration. He didn't look away when you took his hand and began moving up the stairs toward the house, too focused on the resentful grumbles of annoyance vibrating in his hand, up his arm and into his brain. He thought that if he just worked at it, he could come to understand what the different pulses and vibrations meant.

"We think he likes you." Your voice seemed to pop and growl in the same way Kiki had spoken to Grumble and drew Bucky's attention. While he'd been trying to understand the rumbles of the little stone in his hand, you'd led him to the front door and the unconscious body on the threshold. He bent and hauled the only cult member left up and over his shoulder with his free hand.

Bucky eased past you to carry Joseph's lieutenant to the kitchen, part of his attention still on the now curious purrs coming from Grumble. "Yeah. Cool." He was clearly distracted, and you wondered what about Kiki's friend had him so captivated. "Let's go call Steve so he can come clean this up."

"Actually," you said as you hopped up onto the kitchen counter to watch Bucky drop Brit to the floor, "I have a better idea."

By the time you made it back into bed, it was late morning, and you were unsteady on your feet, the weariness of the night having long since caught up with you. Still, your house was clean of Brit's presence and your yard of Joseph's body thanks to the phone call you'd made. You'd once done Maria Hill a favor and she was only too delighted to repay it. Even so odd a request hadn't fazed her when faced with the opportunity to no longer be in anyone's debt. Once Maria's crew had left, you and Bucky had been able to fall into bed in a tangled heap of relieved exhaustion.

If Maria'd had any questions about who had disabled and professionally restrained the tall and powerful person in your foyer, or about the bullet exactly through the heart of the incinerated corpse on your lawn, she kept them to herself. You imagined Nick Fury had already received a full and detailed report, but that was to be expected. You could only hope she was focused on you, considered it a small price to pay to distract them from Bucky's presence in your home.

Now that you'd found him, you would not give him up without a fight.

Bucky had stayed in the little library at the front of the second floor with Kiki and Grumble while you'd dealt with the people Maria had sent. Though he'd considered hiding in the forest during the clean-up, you'd been anxious at the thought. He couldn't stand to get that far away from you, not when he could so clearly see the worry in your eyes when he suggested it.

While he waited, he'd tried to communicate with Grumble. Something about the rumbling vibrations that came from the little stone resonated with his metal arm. If he focused on the sensory data he was getting from the vibranium, he could recognize tone and feeling. He would swear with practice he could truly communicate with the creature.

The clean-up took long enough that he got a little of that practice, was able to communicate enough reassurance to convince Grumble to open small, almond-shaped obsidian eyes. Those eyes had seemed to dart upward to the flame that popped and crackled on top of him. She whistled excitedly and, wrapping her arms of flame around his spikes, rocked him back and forth in what was clearly joy.

Bucky couldn't help but laugh at her antics, especially when he could feel Grumble's affection for her. He had placed one vibranium finger against one of the facets, could feel the relief, the gratitude underneath amused devotion, confirming Bucky's suspicions regarding their relationship. Whatever form it took, Grumble had followed Kiki because he loved her. 

Bucky could understand that feeling easily. He understood now he would follow you into the jaws of hell if he had to.

Thankfully, he didn't have to. Instead, he was laying on his side and nose to nose with you in the warmth of your bed and the only thing he cared about was hearing the words again. His arms were wrapped around you, his metal arm under your head, the other pressing you against him to feel your skin all over him.

Until he'd started sleeping in your bed, he hadn't realized how hungry he was for touch. Once he'd found the glory of your body warm and soft against his, he'd swiftly become obsessed. You were a feast to the famished, sweet and hot and delicious. His preference for having nothing between you whenever possible had been immediately apparent and something you indulged without comment. That silent acceptance inspired his everlasting gratitude as he hadn't known then how to tell you what it meant to him.

He knew now.

"Doll," his voice rumbled from his chest into yours and had you humming in pleasure and pressing closer, "I told you I wanted to talk about your timing." The feel of your body, warm and generous as you snuggled against his skin made both his body heat and his heart ache, and his hands smoothed over your skin in ways meant to make you shiver.

Your face melted into a bashful anxiety that made Bucky's heart pound like a drum. He couldn't believe that you could ever think that he'd be anything but endlessly thankful that you could feel a fraction of what he felt for you and he was terrified that you'd misunderstood. "Say it again, please," he whispered, his eyes burning like blue flames, "when there's time for me to say it back."

Your breath rushed out in relief, in joy, and your smile shone as your eyes blazed. You'd hoped the softness in his eyes had been reflecting his heart. "I love you, Bucky."

The sound of the words, the shape of them as they left your lips sent a feeling thrilling through his entire body, as though they had seeped beneath his skin and into the center of his being. His voice was hoarse with that desperate emotion when he answered. "I love you, too."

The next thing you knew, his lips were on yours and he was taking your breath away. You let him, not needing air when you were breathing his breath, breathing him. Your body already yearning to his, your skin set aflame everywhere he touched, you gave yourself up to his embrace with nothing held back.

Bucky was drowning in you, in the soft warmth you'd shown him from the first time, gladly going under. He loved to hear the words, but now that he knew the name of the emotion that left your mouth so soft against his, he had to keep tasting it on your tongue. Your hands were as fervid as your mouth in their race over his skin, as greedy as your lips as they fed from his. The feeling went to his head and soaked into his body to make him ache with a joyous kind of need. The sound of your pleasure in your throat seemed to resonate with his bones.

His lips left yours to press to the pulse in your throat, wanting both the taste of your skin and the thump of your heart, glorying in the temptation of your voice. "I think my luck changed, too,” you murmured.

Bucky's body seemed to clench in reaction to the ache in your tone and he rolled until he was stretched out on top of you, his hips between your thighs, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. He was smiling sweetly as he brushed his lips over yours, but that smile turned sly as he bent to kiss your neck again. "I met your ex. Your luck completely changed."

The feel of your laughter vibrating in your throat under his lips sent a rush through him, lust and love tangled together to keep his touch tender even as his hands began to wander to incite, to arouse.

Skin to skin and heart to heart, you were soon entwined and rocking toward ecstasy. Always a joyous experience, your joining was even sweeter, now that you had given each other the love you’d both been holding back. The words were as sweet on your lips as they were to his ear when you whispered them as you quaked in pleasure. His arms enveloped you and the choked cry of your name had your hands gliding over him to hold him through his own rapture.

A long time later, once he’d adored you to his own exacting standards, pleasuring you thoroughly and doing all he could to erase the memory of the night before from both your minds, you lay boneless and satisfied in each other’s arms.

“I kind of feel weird about what we just did.” His voice was low and raspy and made you shiver agreeably. His tone was so quiet and calm, it didn’t break the silence as much as it dismissed it. You marveled at the fact that your body was utterly exhausted and still yearned. Even now you could want him. “You know, with them here.”

You glanced at the nightstand where Kiki lay curled up on top of Grumble, both ostensibly asleep. You could still feel the gentle hum of her awareness in the back of your mind, however, and knew she was still half-awake. You smiled and turned back to Bucky to nuzzle his mouth with your own.

"Kiki lives at the roots of my hair; she's seen it." You'd used up what little energy you had and let your head fall back to the pillow. Bucky, on the other hand, lifted his head to stare at you as you continued. "They're not interested, I promise." His look of mildly horrified confusion made you snort, but you answered defensively. "She sets fires if she just wanders around freely. This is the first time she's been able to hang out somewhere else."

"She lives in your hair?" You laughed out loud at the tone of his voice, rich with baffled shock, and the worried eyes that raked the top of your head as he craned his neck to see your scalp. "Doesn't that hurt?"

You were still laughing as you lifted one heavy arm to draw his head down to yours for a long, tender kiss. You should have known that his one worry would be for your safety, your comfort. This was why you'd fallen in love with the man, the generous heart that beat so true beneath that delightfully gruff exterior.

Your voice was a little breathless from the kiss when it broke, but still soft with remorse. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you about her, about Joseph, any of it." That remorse also softened your mouth as it brushed over his beautiful face. "At first it was because I promised to keep her secret, then it was because I was afraid."

Bucky appreciated the apology but considered it unnecessary as he could easily understand your reticence considering the circumstances. Even if he wanted to be angry, he was pretty sure that was impossible with you soft and warm in his arms, with your gentle mouth brushing love into his skin. He should probably be concerned that you had such a hold on him, but he couldn't find it in him to care.

Snuggling you closer, he smoothed his palm slowly up your spine as he closed his eyes to better appreciate the sensation of your skin against his. "Afraid of what?" He murmured the question, and you could feel in the way he pressed you closer that he was wondering if he had the energy to love you one more time. Alas, you were pretty sure you did not, but that didn't stop your heart from kicking like it was willing to find out.

You used the arm you'd slid around his waist to pull yourself tightly against him so that you could bury your face in his neck. His palm was just rough enough to send shivers through you as he skimmed it over your skin. "That it would be too much, too weird." You smiled against his throat when he scoffed. "I have custody of a fire elemental. She's kind of a lot."

Bucky scoffed harder and rolled his eyes as he pressed his lips to the top of your head. "I'm an international fugitive because I spent the last several decades a brainwashed assassin." His hand had reached the nape of your neck, only to turn and start the path back down, his touch both soothing and tender. "That's kind of a lot, too, but you don't seem to mind."

You sighed in pleasure, in contentment, and let your eyes drift closed. The warmth of his body, the smooth skim of his skin over yours, the rumble of his voice as he spoke all combined to leave you boneless and sleepy in his arms. "I knew what I was getting into," you murmured and the beginning of a slur to your tone alerted Bucky to your fading consciousness.

He smiled and felt the last of his own tension start to fade. If you were as happily content as your body seemed to communicate as you rested so trustingly against him, he saw no need to stay on guard. He let himself relax and enjoy the sensation of love and safety that had been so rare in his life until he met you. "You were on fire the first time I saw you," he reminded you gently, smiling at the memory now that he knew how truly safe from the fire he was. "I wasn't exactly in the dark."

You tilted your head back so that you could look into his face. His mouth was soft with affection, his blue eyes bright behind lowered lids. The way-past-five-o'clock-shadow darkening his features only added to the deliciously dangerous look of him. The sight of him made your heart race and your throat swell. A little breathless with it, with him, you kissed him gently. "I love you."

Bucky's grin flashed, dazzling white against the dark of his stubble. "I will never get tired of hearing that." His pretty lips brushed yours once, twice, before he gave in and sank into a long, tender kiss. When he raised his head again, your eyes fluttered open to meet icy blue hot with emotion. "I love you, too, doll."

Your face lit up with a bright and happy smile that made Bucky feel ten feet tall. When you snuggled into his arms and closed your eyes with a sigh of contentment, seemingly determined to fall asleep in his arms, he simply adjusted to maximize the comfort of you both and prepared to follow you into dreamland.

Just as his eyes were falling closed, Bucky's gaze landed on the little stone that had followed Kiki into this world. The vibrations that seemed to resonate with his arm and into his brain were still causing questions to chase each other in circles around his mind. There was only one person he would consider trusting with this secret, and she was also the only person who understood vibranium well enough to answer any of those questions.

"How do you feel about international travel?" His voice was loud enough to keep you from sliding into sleep, but still a low, sexy rumble. If only you could stay awake. "I know someone who would kill to meet Grumble."

You snorted, softly, and turned to rub your face against the skin of his collarbones, basking in him. "Let me know when you convince Grumble and I'm in." Your mouth twisted sardonically against his chest, even as you started to relax back into sleep. It was impossible to stay awake when your worst enemy was dead, your worst worries were over, and you were safe and comfortable in the arms of the sweetest man you'd ever known. "Then we can all try to convince Kiki."

Bucky couldn't resist the siren song of the softness of your body, bonelessly trusting, nor that of a deep and dreamless sleep that he knew would be his reward for getting you through the crisis safe and sound. "Will that be difficult?"

"She's paranoid and temperamental." Bucky could hear a small, half-hearted hiss coming from the direction of the nightstand. That hiss prompted a forceful and challenging change to your tone. "Yes. Unless Grumble has some ability to persuade that we don't, it will be very difficult."

Next came a sound like a small tumble of gravel, but the little clacks of rock against each other had such an amused tone to it, you couldn't help but hear it. Bucky laughed out loud, as he could hear the smug assurance underneath the laughter and knew Grumble was perfectly capable of persuading Kiki. Her hissing denial was clearly weak to everyone in the room, and it was clear she was as smitten with Grumble as he with her.

Though the little flame sounded irritated, you could hear the reluctant amusement mixed with attraction in the back of your mind and wondered what Kiki saw when she looked at the other creature. Whatever it was, she was as caught in her sexy, grumpy partner as you were in yours.

Bucky grinned at you, thoroughly familiar with the feeling of smug amusement he was getting from Grumble, since he got to experience it every time you lost your train of thought looking at him. You grinned back, reluctantly amused by the arrogance all over him, and thinking you and Kiki had a lot more in common than you'd thought.

The End

Taglist:

@hellzzzbelle​ @samwilsons-pillowpecs​ @cheekygeek05​ @lbouvet​ @diinofayce​ @bibliophile1773​ @thatawkwardlittlefangirl​ @miraclesoflove​ @nerdy-bookworm-1998​ @destiel-is--endgame​ @irritated-bisexual​ @peaceinourtime82​ @badassbaker​ @walkingtravesty97​ @fashionworld12​ @readermia​