I just wanted you to know, that i’ll beg whatever gods i need to is one of my favorite fics of all time. I am SUCH a Cregan fan, so seeing people write for him makes me so happy, especially since I feel like the fandom is kinda small 😭 anyways I love your writing!! I’m excited to read more of your works <3
i’m at work right now trying to hold back tears, this is so precious. thank you so much for reading and supporting my works! it means the literal world to me! thank you thank you thank you, i wanna give you a big smooch because this made my whole day! 😘
Y’all I need some opinions. “Gardenias on the tile” is almost ready to be published, but I’m stuck on whether I want to keep this sfw or not. The possibility of smut at the end of the story is high, but I wanted to check with y’all and get a feel for what y’all want. Should I keep this a hurt/ comfort fic thats sfw or add some smutty smut?
my new jud duplenticy mini series is coming together rather nicely, if you’d like to be on the tag list for this series, please comment on this post! i’m excited yall, hope you are too!
tw: grade A yearning, slight mention of blood, consumption of alcohol, written in third person pov (use of she/ her pronouns)
word count: 1.8k
song inspiration: altar wine (stripped) by David Keenan
a/n: it’s my personal headcanon that Jud’s real name is Judas, just for some context. hope yall like it! part two will be posted soon!
excerpt: She would forever be suspended in his memory as an angelic ghost, haunting the corners of his mind, a melancholic ache that would never fade. He prayed to her sometimes, late in the night when he had found a spare bottle of the altar wine and gave into his aching heart, trying to find anything to numb the pain. The only witness to his orisons of yearning was the moon, its pale light pooring through the medieval windows of the church. As he drowned in the remnants of what once was, the liquor in his veins began to warm him, making him pliable to his own inhibitions.
- or -
Jud drunk dials the one woman he’s ever loved. Fifteen years later.
Jud didn’t drink often, but whenever he did he always thought of her. There was no escaping the moments that clung to his mind, unforgiving in their grip. She would forever be suspended in his memory as an angelic ghost, haunting the corners of his mind, a melancholic ache that would never fade. He prayed to her sometimes, late in the night when he had found a spare bottle of the altar wine and gave into his aching heart, trying to find anything to numb the pain. The only witness to his orisons of yearning was the moon, its pale light pooring through the medieval windows of the church. As he drowned in the remnants of what once was, the liquor in his veins began to warm him, making him pliable to his own inhibitions.
“I’ll never see her again, and all because I was trying not to become the villain in her story. I just wanted to protect her,” Jud spoke hopelessly to Nikolai, the bar tender, that stood in front of him filling the young priests glass. As the liquor sloshed gracelessly into the cup, Nikolai gave him a pitied look.
“Well, Father, people find many ways to forgive one another in time. She may have different feelings about it now, is there any possibility of reaching out? Maybe mend the broken fences between you?” Nikolai asked, the insight was well-received by Jud as he nodded slowly.
He truly wondered if she would ever forgive him for what he did so many years prior.
“I left, ya know?” Jud blurted out once more, not to anyone in particular, almost as if he was trying to explain it to himself.
I know why I left, right? Jud asked himself, remembering how at nineteen he had reasoned why he had left. Having just been released from juvenile detention, with no one to turn to he eventually ended up on her doorstep. That was the beginning of the end.
“Can I get another?” Jud motioned to his now empty glass, having taken it back in one swig. The short glass met the counter again with a small thunk. He got lost staring into the intricate pattern in the glass, drifting away into the deep sea of evocations of the one woman he ever loved.
I left her to protect her… from me, Jud thought to himself. Or did I leave because I was too afraid to watch her see this new version of me? The one with blood on his hands? Jud’s head began to hurt as the thoughts spun themselves into knots, trying his best to climb his way out of the hole he had created in his own heart.
Nikolai had since refilled Jud’s drink, seeing the look of desperate yearning on Jud’s face, Nikolai’s pity only grew, as Jud’s own past continued to torment him.
Jud sipped his drink this time, grimacing at the burn that traveled down his throat with the liquor. The images of her flashed through his mind in that moment; her soft eyes, how her hair always fell so perfectly, and the way her lips would turn up at the corners at the sight of him.
“I wonder if she’d be as pleased to see me now?” Jud pondered aloud. He guessed that it was more likely that he would be met with a slap to the face, then be met with those warm eyes and kind smile. Jud realized then that the memory of her seemed to permeate everything in Chimney Rock. He found solace in this small town, but it felt odd to call someplace home that she had never touched. For the better part of his teenage years, she was his home; becoming a fixture in the broken mosaic of his life. The only tile that shone amongst the rubble, and he had shattered it with his own two hands.
She most certainly would not be pleased to see me, Jud thought, wincing at the recollection of her tear stained face, twisted with the pain of betrayal.
————————— 15 years prior
“Don’t do this, Jude, please,” she had begged him.
“I won’t be the reason you can’t have everything you deserve. You’ll understand one day how unworthy I am of you,” Jud had replied. She had stepped forward then, grabbing his face in her hands, her eyes pleading with him to stay.
“You are worthy of me, I should be the one to determine that. The kindness and love you possess are enough, your beauty of character is unparalleled and I need you in my life. Jude, please, just stay,” tears tracked down her face as she spoke. His only response was to turn his head and break free from her grasp. He sniffled as he bent down to gather his pack and sling it over his shoulder. There was nothing more she could do, holding fast to him would only end up leaving claw marks on his skin, and he would endure it. He would take the pain of leaving her if it meant she would be better without him. As he grabbed the doorknob, he turned to get one more glimpse of her. She was distraught, as was he.
“Forgive me,” were the last words he had spoken to her. His heart clenched as sobs wracked his body, finally falling apart once he was out of her sight.
She will never, ever forgive me, Jud had thought to himself, and for a long time he was right.
—————————————————————
The memory faded, leaving behind the dull ache of yearning for her.
“I’ll pay my tab,” Jud said as he motioned to get Nikolai’s attention. Standing and swaying, he dug through his pockets for his wallet.
“Are you sure you’re okay to drive, Father?” Nikolai asked. Jud just nodded slowly.
“I’ve got the bike, I’ll be fine,” Jud mumbled, slurring slightly, but seemed to walk out of the bar just fine. Although, stumbling a bit once outside, he managed to get on the ten speed and wobble his way back to the church. Not feeling compelled to bring his worries to God, he followed the small trail down to Samson’s old cabin. Jud still slept in the rectory most nights, but on the off occasion that he found he needed space from it all, he would come to the cabin.
He sat on the couch for a while, his mind churning with regret and grief, until finally the punching bag started calling to him to bring his woes out with a fist instead of a prayer. But he always seemed to reach the same conclusion on the matter; he had fucked up, royally. However, the life he had chosen for himself was what was best for both of them.
In the process of working out his anger with himself through putting fist to reinforced leather, his knuckles split and blood started to cover the bag more and more with each hit. He stopped and winced as the sting seeped through his veins. Jud was breathing heavily and felt the need to sit down and catch his breath. He was finding it hard to unclench his hands without the pain shooting through his wrists and forearms, to the very tips of his fingers.
I should soak them in ice water, he suggested to himself, as he stood from the couch and moved his way through the small space, gathering what was needed and finding his seat again. Setting up the small ice bath, he turned on the television as he placed his hands into the frigid water. The liquid immediately turned pink from his raw knuckles and he hissed at the cold contact to his wounds, he then looked up at the TV to try to distract himself from the pain. His head eventually began clearing as the ice water snapped him back to reality. He had been so lost in his mind, he hadn’t fully registered Nikolai’s words of wisdom from earlier that evening.
“Is there any way to contact her? Repair the broken fences between you?”
The question rattled around in his head and it felt as if a pit had formed in his stomach. Jud had never deleted her contact from his phone.
But it’s been fifteen years, Jud thought. He had written letters to her but could never find it within himself to send them.
God, I’m a fucking coward, Jud scolded himself.
There was no way she still had the same phone number, but he would never knew until he tried. He pulled his hands from the water and shook them with another wince. Drying them gingerly, he reached for his phone, his hands shook with the cold that still lingered, but also with the anticipation of this moment. It was almost muscle memory as he dialed the number. His blood suddenly ran cold as he heard the soft ringing of the phone, begging it to go to voicemail. With his breath coming unevenly and his hands seeming to shake even more, Jud then heard the dial tone and the one voice he knew he’d never forget.
“Hey, it’s me, just leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as possible.” The message ended and Jud was now thrust into a reality where he could hear her voice again, for real.
“Um… hi,” Jud started, kicking himself ferociously for how stupid this was. He realizes he must press on or the time will run out, and he would look even more like an idiot calling twice.
“I know it’s been a very long time, and that is completely my fault. You probably won’t respond, and that’s completely understandable. But I needed you to know how sorry I am. In all this time I haven’t been able to seek any kind of peace or absolution from this; from you. I even became a priest, can you believe that? I barely can. But no matter what I do to repent for the unforgivable sin of abandoning you, even He won’t let me forget it. I know this is the biggest long shot in the history of impossible feats, but just in case you do hear this; I never stopped loving you. And if you feel so inclined to reply, call me back. Or… I hold mass this Sunday at 8am at the Lady of Perpetual Grace church in Chimney Rock, New York and…” the sharp beep of the message cutting out startled Jud into silence. He couldn’t believe he had just done that. The seed had been planted, and there was no taking it back.
———————————————————
A week had gone by and he had heard nothing. Jud tried to expel the thoughts of her from his mind, but the truth could not escape him: she was never coming back.
———————————————————
tags: @poetrypoesblehhh
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just a reminder for smut readers to not compare yourselves to what you read. at the end of the day it is porn and it still has tropes and stereotypes like any other.
if you can't go multiple rounds, or if you need more time, or if you have trouble finishing/can't finish at all, if you don't have big breasts or a small waist or birthing hips, if intimacy is intimidating, if you don't like the feel of penetration, if ur a virgin, if it takes more time for you to get wet, if you can't squirt, if you're not short and petite, if you have medical issues that get in the way, if ur a victim of sa or abuse. that is all normal and it does not make you less than. if you don't find a reflection of yourself within stories, that is more than alright. lots of it is escapism and glorified and porn trope adjacent and not a reflection of real life. you are perfect just as you are.♡
