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jessamine-rose · 1 month

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˖⋆˚♱ଘ Angel’s Tears ଓ♱˚⋆˖

*cries* I thought I was done with Church AU after Priest! Dottore yet here I am with more unholy ideas. Welp, Guardian Angel! Capitano x Nonbeliever! Darling, here we go (；ω；)

Tw:: yandere, psychological trauma, blood, violence, death, religious abuse, MDNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion

♡ 3.8k words under the cut ♡

♡ From the moment of their creation, angels are classified into the Nine Orders. This hierarchy determines their role in Heaven and Earth, with higher ranks assigned greater levels of power and authority. A special exception is The Strongest Angel, an individual who is neither a seraph nor an angel from the First Sphere. Rather, the moniker belongs to Il Capitano, the leader of the Powers.

♡ The legitimacy of his title has never been questioned. As a warrior angel, Capitano’s purpose is to vanquish evil. He is the chivalrous knight in bloodstained armor, the nigh-invincible being who strikes fear into the hearts of demons, the ever-righteous angel bound by a paradoxical duty to partake in violence for the sake of everlasting peace.

♡ It is in a small town in Mondstadt, following his victory over a legion of demons, that Capitano encounters you. It is the hour of mass yet you are nowhere near the Church; rather, you have taken sanctuary in a secluded meadow. A book sits on your lap, not a religious text but a tale of dark fantasy. There is a saintlike quality to your countenance, an air of melancholy as delicate as the flowers which surround you.

✿ ⚘

The moment Capitano appears before you, all peace leaves the meadow.

No, this isn’t right. It is normal for humans to feel fear in the divine presence of angels, yet he is donning his human guise. Nonetheless, as soon as his shadow touches your form, you look up and suppress a shriek, your face losing its veil of apathy.

So what exactly did he do wrong?

For your benefit, he remains rooted to his spot. Clarity comes in the form of your gaze flitting to your book, its title printed on the cover in conspicuous letters, the whispers which leave trembling lips.

“I…I can explain! This book—it’s just fiction! There are no real curses or spells inscribed in the text; it doesn’t promote any form of blasphemy!”

Ah, now he understands. You weren’t afraid of him.

Carefully, Capitano takes a step forward and raises his hand in a calming gesture. A gentle expression adorns his false face.

“Be not afraid.”

✿ ⚘

♡ It doesn’t take long for him to understand your wariness. A glimpse into your soul, paired with your quiet explanation, tells the story of an orphan raised by the Church. Only, your Church is one of many founded on distorted beliefs, of violence preached in the name of a cruel god. As a result, your upbringing was marked by strict rules, corporal punishments, and sermons which painted the image of a hopeless child with a weakness for temptation.

♡ Knowing this, Capitano can’t fault you for forsaking God and your Church. Still in his human guise, he promises his silence and leaves the meadow. But once he returns to Heaven, his first course of action is to apply for a position as your guardian angel. It is an easy process—while that role is typically reserved for the lower ranks, there is no shortage of humans in need of spiritual guidance and protection. He only questions why an angel wasn’t assigned to you when you were in greatest need of one.

♡ Henceforth, Capitano becomes a recurring character in your life. Every week, he visits you in the meadow. When you ask for his identity, he claims to be a progressive believer from another town. But rather than enlighten you with the true Word of God, he simply keeps you company and indulges your “vices,” leading to hours spent reading together. Beyond those meetings, he also watches over you to ward off any demons or humans seeking to harm you.

♡ From your end, you slowly warm up to your mysterious companion. He is a man of few words, but his actions always convey a sense of kindness. And despite his faith, he genuinely respects your beliefs and accepts you as you are. At one point, he even gives you a special gift, a quill pen of exceptional quality. The feather, pure white with a soft radiance, must have been sourced from a rare bird of prey.

♡ Over time, however, something changes. Capitano can’t deny that the faults lies with him. His visits, his constant thoughts of you, the ever-blurring line between want and duty…nothing of his behavior can be attributed to an angel’s inherent love for humanity. If that were the case, his love wouldn’t beget heartache. His love wouldn’t beget the temptation to harm others, rooted not in the name of justice but for your own safety. His love wouldn’t beget lust, guilt, dishonor, desires so sinfully evocative of his own infallibility.

♡ The truth is, you were never in need of spiritual salvation. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, what Capitano saw was a pure soul—a good person unlikely to commit evil nor fall into true temptation. Moreover, he knows that your sin of disbelief is forgivable unlike your Church’s sins of violence. That so long as you remain as you are, your soul will not be denied paradise, albeit in a realm of Heaven beyond Capitano’s jurisdiction. So why is he incapable of leaving your side?

✿ ⚘

“I had a long, long dream. I dreamed that you and I met again in the pure white world that we created.”

As you read the final line, your gaze leaves the book and returns to Capitano.

“What did you think of the story?”

Your shoulder brushes against his own, a tempting sensation. It is all he can do to remain still, to think against seeking out more of your touch, to remind himself that your close proximity is a mere necessity for your current activity.

The left side of the book, bearing the story’s ending, rests in your left hand. The other side is held in Capitano’s right hand, a blank page devoid of hope for a happy ending. When he turns the page, you seamlessly catch it under your thumb to show the next page.

Who knew of the casual intimacies imbued in the act of reading together?

“It was a well-written novel,” he says simply. “Though her sins tarnished her honor, Rosalyne’s sacrifice was an act of love. Her loss did not hinder her faithfulness to Rostam.”

“I feel the same way,” you muse. “Now I understand why this book was banned centuries ago. Forbidden love between angels and humans…it certainly goes against what the Church taught us about angels. I have to give the author credit for their imagination.”

It’s just the two of you again, this time in the library. At the start of winter, you invited Capitano to your workplace. There, in your greatest show of trust, you brought him to a secret room dedicated to texts banned by the Church for promoting “blasphemy.” Fantasy, erotica, anti-Church publications, first editions of censored books, stories which merely deviated from the Church’s popular depictions of spiritual beings.

Molten Moment belongs to the last category. Little do you know that it was based on a true story, that the author had really formed a pact with a demon called La Signora. Capitano himself is mentioned in the story under his true name.

He was one of the few angels who noticed the changes in Rosalyne’s behavior. She was once an ophanim, an angel with no connection to Earth nor humanity. Yet by some twist of fate, she laid eyes on a brave knight from Mondstadt and began to meet him in her human guise.

He was the first to hear of Rosalyne’s sin, that being she saved Rostam’s life during a battle. It was a direct violation of God’s orders: Angels and demons may influence humans, but they are forbidden from directly altering a human’s lifespan.

He was a silent witness to Rosalyne’s descent. She fell from Heaven, burned by her own flames, yet she had never appeared more ecstatic. In the following years, she married Rostam and lived a happy life with him on Earth.

He was the last to recognize Rostam’s soul at the pearly gates, forever separated from his fallen lover. Such had been Rosalyne’s divine punishment, worsened by her knowledge of this possibility. But what else was she to do? To let Rostam know of her true nature? To drag his soul down to Hell, where he’d be subjected to an eternity of undeserved suffering?

Capitano is no fool. As he read Molten Moment, he began to understand Rosalyne’s sin in a new light. Half the time, he couldn’t even concentrate on the text, his human eyes repeatedly drifting to your intense reading expression.

He closes the book, leaving it in your sole grasp. But before he can stand up from the sofa, you scoot closer and lean your weight on him. The book is placed on a nearby table, forgotten.

“Do you mind?” you whisper. Your right hand, empty since the prologue, traces his left hand.

A moment of silence precedes his response. “You may.”

Wordlessly, you take his hand and intertwine your fingers. A gesture of intimacy, an unspoken confession. Yet as he savors your touch, Capitano wonders if you would harbor the same level of comfort around his true form.

He doubts it. As a Power, he bears an inhuman appearance on par with that of his superiors. It is his true image which has earned him the title of monster by witnessing humans.

Still, he allows himself to indulge in the blessing that is your oblivion. When you look into his two human eyes, there is a soft light in your gaze wholly free of fear.

“Spring is coming soon,” you mutter. “I can’t wait to see the flowers again. Come to think of it, there’s a variety of narcissus which grows only in late spring. It’s very pretty.”

Against his better judgment, Capitano strengthens his grip on your hand. “Shall I take it as an invitation to resume our meetings in the meadow?”

“Sure.” That is when you look up, a small smile adorning your face. “And if you can’t visit for whatever reason, I’ll pick a bouquet and preserve it for you.”

For once, Capitano is rendered speechless.

Rarely do you ever smile. Even to him, you retain your listless disposition—whether it is out of habit or lingering distance, he has yet to discern your reasons. But that is what makes it all the more special, those few instances when he is beholden to your expressions.

He wonders if this is what humans feel in the divine presence of angels, when they are borne witness to all things holy and beautiful.

Your smile is a phenomenon reserved only for the worthiest of souls. And in your grace, he has never felt more undeserving.

✿ ⚘

♡ At the end of winter, a religious war is authorized by the Church of Mondstadt. Shortly after the news reaches your town, Capitano informs you that he will be busy with “work.” He says it during another reading date, featuring Heart of Clear Springs. Before leaving, he kisses your hand and gives you a kind smile. There is a sad look in his eyes, but you don’t inquire further.

♡ In late spring, your town is attacked. With the entire area under fire, from your home to the meadow, you find yourself running back to the sacred building which you’d avoided for years. After all, though the enemy soldiers belong to a different denomination, they still worship the same god as you. In the present, the church is the only place on Earth where you can claim asylum and pray for your survival.

♡ Except every entrance is locked, including the doors to the orphanage. As the army reaches the town square, all you can do is bang on the front doors and beg to be let in. From inside, you can hear the voices of the people that luckily attended mass before the invasion. Some tell you to hide elsewhere, others beg you for forgiveness, a few sound like the nuns and caretakers who tormented you in the past.

♡ Before you can think of another sanctuary, a soldier strikes you. Pain…it has never felt more intense. Through your fading consciousness, you register your body falling and your head hitting the concrete. Blood pools from your forehead and trickles down the steps of the church, tainting it red.

♡ Life flashes before your eyes in a blurry sequence. The static images of God, sermons and bruises, unanswered prayers, people who never believed you or simply didn’t care. A birthday celebrated with your departure from the Church. Sanctuary found in the library followed by the meadow. Yet the numbness remained, each day bleeding into the next in a gloomy haze. In all those years, did you ever feel God’s love?

♡ It doesn’t matter at this point. A small part of you wonders if you should have retained your faith, continued your prayers, sought out salvation in the safety of your solitude. At least then, at the hour of your death, you wouldn’t be confronted with the fact of your humanity. The primal fear of death, the spiritual fear of ending up in Hell no matter Capitano’s reassurances.

♡ Capitano…where is he? Weakly, you call out to him but he doesn’t appear. Of course, why would he? You should feel thankful; it means he is probably safe, wherever he is. Still, you can’t help but wish he were here—if not to save you, as he has done by simply keeping you company, but to comfort you one last time. And those are the thoughts which plague you in your final moments, an unheard prayer on the tip of your tongue.

“I pray that we meet again, myself and the first person who truly loved me.”

♡ ______ died on a cloudy day, one of many people persecuted in the name of God. After the Church was destroyed and its followers slaughtered, their body was buried in a mass grave that once flourished with nature. There was a poignant quality to their countenance, an air of distress as transient as the flowers planted above them.

♡ At least, that is how your story ends from the perspectives of the survivors. But to the angels and demons who witnessed the destruction of your town, your death was only the end of a chapter in your life. In their eyes, Capitano had been present all throughout, an invisible witness to your death, absolute in his refusal to perform an unauthorized miracle.

♡ He remained by your side until the light faded from your eyes. That was when he took notice of the bouquet of narcissus clutched in your hand, tainted with blood despite your feeble efforts to save his gift. A soldier approached your corpse, intending to drag it down the steps for burial; but before they could touch you, Capitano appeared before them.

♡ It was only for a brief second, but the soldier drew back and cowered in fear. In the following days, they were haunted by the memory of the angelic figure who appeared outside the Church of Mondstadt. Or more precisely, the monster who prayed over a bloodstained corpse and took a bouquet of ruined flowers out of their grasp.

✿ ⚘

From the moment you wake up, all peace leaves the meadow.

What happened? Your memory comes back in hazy fragments—death, darkness, blinding light, pearly gates, ethereal figures. Most vivid is the sensation of strong arms and soft feathers, a familiar warmth which accompanied you throughout your journey.

As for your current surroundings, you are in a meadow so beautiful that it brings to mind the Garden of Eden. Flowers of every variety bloom across the scenery, some out of season. The sky is bright, sunless, a canvas of multiple colors. There are no other signs of life.

Internally, too, something feels off. A nearby pond provides a glimpse of your reflection—white garments, gold scars in place of your fatal injuries, your disoriented countenance. If this place is what you think it is…shouldn’t you feel at peace, happy even? And why are you alone?

Your gaze lands on a patch of flowers. Pure white, perianth petals, cup-shaped coronas…the same type of narcissus which grew in your favorite meadow. The flowers point in different directions, as though searching for a sun that does not exist.

“You are awake.”

A shadow touches your form, engulfing you in darkness. It bears a large, unrecognizable shape but such details escape you as you recognize the voice behind you.

“Capitano!” Immediately, you turn around, only to gasp and suppress a scream.

The person before you…can you even call him human? He is incredibly tall, to the point that you must crane your neck to see his face—assuming there is one beneath his iron mask. His body is clad in silver armor, stained blood in some places. A halo, shaped like a crown of thorns, shines behind his head.

But what shocks you are his wings. A single pair covered in radiant white feathers and eerily dark blue eyes. Each eye seems to glow with an uncanny aura.

Dark blue eyes with a striking resemblance to Capitano’s. What more for his long black hair and his solemn manner of speaking?

It doesn’t make your revelation any less unsettling.

“Capitano.” Your voice comes out in a nervous whisper. “Is it really you? You’re a…”

“An angel,” he confesses. He takes a step back, widening the distance between your bodies. “I ask that you pardon my appearance. Such was my sacrifice—for my true form, in all of its monstrosity, to be my sole image.”

His human face comes to mind, along with the kind gaze you fell in love with.

You feel the weight of multiple gazes on you. “What do you mean?”

“Is this realm to your satisfaction?” he asks. “I beseeched God to create a special paradise for you, cut off from the rest of Heaven. The price is that your capacity to feel negative emotions remains in this realm…though that is preferable.”

Preferable? How so? Right now, you can barely process what he is telling you. You are dead. Your companion is an angel. Your soul is in paradise, but not exactly.

After everything you’ve been through, you were still deemed worthy of a place in Heaven.

“I am sorry.”

Capitano’s voice brings you back to reality. He has never sounded more serious, emotional, repentant. And when you look up…

Is he crying?

Most of his eyes remain open, focusing on you with a fervent stare. But others are downcast, as if unable to face you. And a few appear glossy, blinking back iridescent tears.

“I am truly sorry.” He bows his head in shame, wings folded. “What I did to you was cruel, an absolute injustice.”

You don’t know which eyes to make contact with. “You—”

“It must have been painful,” he continues. “Even if I were to justify my actions, the truth lies in the fact that I tolerated your suffering for my own selfish desires. And that is why I ask not for your forgiveness, knowing I am the one at fault.”

Silence. In light of Capitano’s confession, all you can do is stare at him and comprehend the weight of your situation. What exactly are you supposed to feel, knowing his betrayal? Knowing that regardless of your feelings, you have nowhere else to go in the afterlife?

Yet despite it all, your prayer came true. The two of you were able to meet again.

And that is what compels you to take a step forward, to come closer until you are standing in front of him. “Hey, it’s…don’t cry.”

A delicate sensation blesses his wings—your hands carefully tracing his feathers to wipe away his tears. Several eyes widen in surprise, but all he can see in your gaze is sympathy.

“I’ll admit, it was painful,” you tell him. “Dying alone. But maybe it’s…better this way. If I survived, I’d have to deal with the loss of my home. And who knows what kind of living hell the other Church would’ve put me through?”

Above all, Capitano is the only person whose love you can believe in.

Hesitantly, you take his hand and intertwine your fingers. The next words to leave your lips are spoken with certainty, bringing fresh tears to his eyes.

“I’m sure it was an act of love on your part.”

His reaction is sudden, incurring your surprise. But all you can do is surrender to Capitano’s embrace, allow his free arm to hold your waist and pull you closer to him. His wings wrap around you, caging you in soft feathers and eerie blue orbs.

“Capitano?” You can only look up at him, peering into the contents of his mask.

…It’s like staring into an abyss, a night sky dotted with twinkling blue stars. But in the absence of a human likeness, his words express what a face cannot.

“Never again,” he vows, “shall I allow harm to befall you. That is a promise.”

The hand on your waist moves upwards to caress your face. His touch is light, more hesitant than his previous gestures.

“You need not serve God nor partake in fruitful labor like the other souls in Heaven. All I ask is that you rest, indulge yourself, enjoy this paradise to the fullest.”

A flower is pinned to his armor, right above his heart. You recognize it instantly—a narcissus in full bloom, stained with your blood.

“If you desire a flower, it shall grow at once. If there are any books you would like to read, they shall be brought to you shortly.”

What was the name of that variety again? Narcissus triandrus. Angel’s tears.

“If you are in need of my presence, I shall appear before you, so long as I am not in the midst of battle. And should you ever desire the opposite, I can promise my distance.”

When Capitano looks into your eyes, all he can see is his own reflection. Whatever emotion colors your gaze, it casts his true image in a compassionate light.

“I shall do everything in my power to bring you joy for all of eternity. Such will be my penance.”

“...All right.” With that, you close your eyes and lean into his touch. He feels warm, comfortingly familiar. “I’ll trust you on that.”

Rest in peace, ______.

Think not of your mortal body in the beginning stages of decay.

Think not of your tormentors who are paying for their sins in Hell.

Think only of eternity with your beloved savior.

♡

Note:: Church AU is still on my “will not write” list. I only wrote this because I specifically like Priest! Dottore and Angel! Capitano. Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving other characters or dynamics.

Aahhhh it's done....this idea turned out much heavier than expected, but I'm glad that I was able to write this!! I hope you all cried over enjoyed the story of Angel! Capitano and his damsel. They were truly a delight to write for~

Tag a Capitano enjoyer!! @diodellet @navxry @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @bye-bye-sunbird @yandere-romanticaa @harmonysanreads @mochinon-yah @oofasleep @micchikari @whispereons @thescribeoflostmemories

#il capitano #capitano #capitano x reader #yandere capitano x reader #yandere capitano #fatui x reader #yandere fatui harbingers #yandere genshin #genshin x reader #tw: yandere #tw: blood #tw: violence #tw: death #mdni #g/n reader #jessamine-writing

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whatyadrawin · 5 days

Text

The Fruit After The Flesh 18+ -Chapter 13

Minors DNI!

Masterlist

Approximately 4,979 words

Pairing: Thomas Hewitt (Headcanon) x AFAB reader

This chapters Warnings: Sexual language and depiction of sexual acts, foul language, Image with blood (no gore). This is Slasher smut, be mindful of that and use your discretion.

A/n: I had an extremely stressful two months, very busy and not doing well. I apologize for the massive delay for this chapter, the stress gave me a massive writers block and made it exceedingly difficult to make this chapter. The censored image can be viewed raw on my google doc (By clicking that link you are consenting to seeing graphic adult imagery and you are over 18). Let me know if you want to be in the tag list. I update chapter progress on the masterlist whenever something changes.

Please enjoy this chapter! I worked very hard on it so reblogs, comments, and likes are appreciated very much.

Tag List: @fan-goddess , @artxasa , @baybaybear1 , @amour-tae , @dij-ology

Chapter 13

The chirps of crickets echoed across a golden wheat field that swayed as it followed the winds beckoning, you slowly inhaled the fresh air and kicked your dangling feet as you sat on the fence beside the silo watching as eagles circled the sky. It was a cool day which was a nice break from the constant heat waves beating down the land; you squinted as you focused in on some menacing grey clouds in the distance, they were bloated with rain and began to roll over the horizon, a storm was sure to follow them. You hear some footsteps behind you and a long sigh followed, Luda Mae came up next to you and leaned over the fence, a dirt-stained rag in her hands.

“Looks like we better get them cows and chickens inside the barn soon, or they’ll wander off.” She looks up at you and wrinkles her eyebrows upward,

“You alright hun?” she asks.

You look down next to her and push a weak smile, “I’m still a bit shaken up but, I think I’ll be ok.”

She rubs your back and looks towards the dark clouds, “He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.” She steps away and walks off towards the chicken pen.

You smirk at Luda Mae’s seemingly random religious quote, -are we the righteous ones in this situation? I don’t feel very righteous- You hop off the fence and follow her to see if she needs help with the chickens. As you look inside you see Charlie opening up the gates to the cow stalls, he looks up at you and smiles, saying,

“Hey girly, how’s your face feelin’ ?”

You press your hand to your cheek, it’s been 6 days since Dover’s attack on the family and your face was strangely doing well, though it was still somewhat sore.

You shrug your shoulders, “Physically better… at least.”

He chuckles to himself and pulls the last gate open, “You still bothered by that shit stain dyin?”

You nod, “Well, a little… I didn’t want anybody getting hurt and… poor Thomas”. You actually felt worse about Tommy experiencing a traumatic event, and seeing him act so animalistically after didn’t help ease your mind.

Charlie walked up to you, “Dover had it comin’ kid, was nothin’ but self-defense that’s all, ain’t nothin’ to get all soft about.” He puts his hand on his hips and points at you with his other hand,

“And don’tchu worry none ‘bout Tommy, he heals up real fast, ain’t nothin’ gon take him out ‘cept maybe a got’damn freight train, n’ even then…that boy ain’t right.” Charlie looked off into the distance as he got lost in his thoughts.

But it wasn’t Tommy’s physical wellbeing you worried about, it was his mind. Charlie shook his head to snap himself out of his trance and gave your shoulder three pats,

“S’gon’ be alright sweetheart, with you ‘round, that big sentient chunk o’ meat’ll never suffer.” He smirked then walked out the other side of the barn towards the meadow.

Luda Mae came in the barn, her hair all out of place,

“Lord, those chickens are heathens. They give me such a hard time whenever I herd ‘em in the coop.” she was breathing heavily and slouched over to hold her knees in an attempt to catch her breath,

“Was Charlie in here? He needs to go help Thomas with them cows.”

You nod and tell her he went out towards the meadow just now, she stands up straight and reaches her hand out to you,

“C’mon dear, let’s get inside then, get some rest before supper. The boys’ll come in when their done.”

You take her hand and she walks with you up to the kitchen entrance, you hear some rolling thunder in the distance and the sky was already a deep grey. You stand on the porch and look out towards the meadow; you see Tommy and Charlie guiding the cows as they slowly lumbered closer to the meadow gate. Tommy looks up and see’s you, he waves and continues moving the cattle to safety. The wind was stronger now, you could see the large trees near the house tossing their branches around. As soon as you see the last cow pushed into the barn you go inside the kitchen, you shiver from the cold wind stealing your heat.

Luda Mae calls to you from the parlor, when you get there, you see her flopped lazily onto one of the armchairs,

“Come n’ take a rest hun, the boys’ll join us when they get in.” she spoke without opening her eyes, her head was leaning back and her arms dangling off the sides of the arm rests.

You sit on the love seat and slump down a bit, you felt a little cold and looked around for a throw blanket to put over your shoulders, you say to Luda Mae,

“I can’t believe how cold it’s become, I never thought I would finally feel chilly.” You were usually used to sub-zero weather back home but your body was climatizing to the heat quickly which made you feel the drop in temperature more intensely.

Luda Mae laughs, “Oh yes, sometimes it gets real cold out here. Theres a blanket behind that there pillow.” She points to the large pillow on the seat next to you.

You scoot over and find a rolled up blanket made of cotton, it was soft to the touch but had a musty smell from living behind the pillow and unused for so long -well, it’s the best I have for now I guess.- you unfurl it and drape it over your body.

Just as you started warming up, Charlie and Tommy entered the house, they both kicked off their boots haphazardly while Luda Mae rolled her eyes at their carelessness. Charlie came and sat in the other empty armchair, he let out a long groan as he bent his knees to sit. Tommy came and sat gently next to you, he lifted his arms and rested them on the back of the loveseat, you felt his hand reach down to tickle your shoulder which made you blush, he looked at you and winked then looked back at Luda Mae who sat up and began to fix her hair.

“Well seems we got a bit of a storm headin’ our way huh.” She glances at Charlie who just grunts in agreement, he lifts his head and looks at you,

“Y’cold or somethin’?” he smirks.

You nod quietly, Tommy looks down at you and tilts his head to the side as he inspects the blanket you have on, Charlie continues to speak,

“Well look what’s next to you.” He points at Tommy, “He’s a walkin’ heater, best use his warmth up.” He meets eyes with Tommy and nods in your direction, “Boy, don’t be shy now, warm the girl up fer fucks sake.”

Tommy sits up straight and grabs you, hoisting your body effortlessly onto his lap. He was so quick you didn’t even have time to react, you just sat there looking up at him as he held you in his arms; Tommy’s body heat was warming you up quickly, you wanted to curl up and purr like a cat with how comfortable you were. He placed the blanket over you and relaxed his muscles a bit, you leaned your head on his chest and closed your eyes, it was too comfortable to stay awake.

You fell asleep quickly but were still able to hear bits of conversation from the Hewitts as you dreamt, the slow heaving of Tommys chest was lulling you into a deep sleep. You mind created a scene of peace, you and the Hewitts were all gathered around a large table, your old, passed friend was there and so was Tilly. There was a large breadth of food stacked onto the table and fairy lights surrounded you all as the sun set. You watched as they all laughed and chatted together, then Charlie stood up and clinked his glass. He said some things that you didn’t hear, you turned and saw Tommy in a grooms suit, he watched Charlie and listened to the mumbled words.

You looked down at yourself and saw that you were in a wedding dress, Tommy took your hand and kissed it. He got up from his chair and wandered off into the woods, you got up and followed him calling out for him to come back. You finally caught up to him, he turns to look at you but his eyes are white and he is covered in blood breathing heavily, his mask was off revealing a mutation of large teeth sharp like a wolf.

You scream and run away from him, as he chases you, the sound of growling and rumbling could be heard. You trip on your dress and you are grabbed and roughly flipped over, its Dover, he is growling at you making you scream.

You feel shaking and wake up, still in Tommys arms, the sounds of rolling thunder coming into the house from the storm. Tommy looks at you with a worried expression, Luda Mae calls over to you,

“Were you havin’ a bad dream hun?” she is sitting upright and holding her glasses close to her eyes to see you clearly.

You rub your eyes and reply,

“Yeah, sorry, I guess I’m still getting over the Dover situation…”

Luda Mae adds, “That’s gon’ take some time to heal dear. I’m so sorry we didn’t get him dealt with sooner. We shoulda been more careful.”

You see her look down at the floor, visibly upset at your mental pain. Charlie gets up from his chair and says,

“You just need to get more confident sweetheart.” He stops and rubs his chin then adds, “You know what? Tommy should show you how t’fight! If you can learn somethin’ ‘bout fightin’ back, then you won’t be feelin’ like a victim so bad.”

You didn’t appreciate the ignorant statement about ‘feeling like a victim’ since you literally were being victimized by Dover, but you thought to yourself -he does have a point, I really don’t know how to protect myself, maybe it will give me a sense of safety- You look up at Tommy who is still looking down at you as he held you close,

“It couldn’t hurt to try. Would you be willing to teach me?”

He shifts his eyes, he was unsure about how effective he could be, and he was also crestfallen at the fact that you would even need to learn such things. He wanted to be the thing stopping any and all danger, he wanted to be a protective barrier for you. He looked back at you and nodded, despite him wanting to be your guard, he knew he wouldn’t always be around you 24/7 and that you should be able to experience strength for yourself.

Luda Mae got up off her chair and spoke,

“Now’s the perfect time to do it, what with the storm goin’ on outside, you two might as well go downstairs and practice while I start on dinner.” She walked up to Tommy and spoke under her breath, “Now you watch your strength, Thomas. Teach her good n’ fair.”

Tommy nodded to her and gently placed you off his lap and onto the seat beside him, he got up and held his hand out to you while giving a directional nod towards the basement door. You got up and took his hand, the both of you walked down to the basement together.

Tommy brought you into the room next to the bathroom on the right side after you get to the bottom of the stairs. This room had that creepy big furnace in it and weeds covering the small windows which made it exceptionally dark. Tommy found the light switch and flipped it on revealing the mess of junk and old furniture with storage boxes clamored around. The floor was made from old wood planks where you could see the foundation underneath, you watched as Tommy pushed away a bunch of junk to make room for you both. He unfurled a thick rug to act as a wrestling mat so you wouldn’t get hurt from the floor.

He looked at you and said,

“I dunno much, but, ah could teach ya how t’get out of some holds I s’pose” you nod and wait for instruction.

He gently puts one of his arms around your neck and holds one of your arms behind your back with his free hand. He instructs you on how to get out of it by dropping your body weight downwards to slip out of the hold. You successfully get out of the hold and he helps you up to try again. Each time you succeeded he tightened his grip. You couldn’t help but feel giddy about his massive bicep hugging your head, if it were anyone else you would be terrified but because you trusted him, it was an oddly erotic experience.

After a few more types of holds were shown to you, he then instructed you on a proper way to make a fist and how to punch with good technique. As you make a fist, he inspects the placement of your fingers and gently moves them into the correct position, you make a new fist which he inspects then gives a thumbs up.

“Now, I want ya t’punch me as hard as y’can” he gives you a serious look. You were taken aback by the request, you say,

“No way, I don’t want to hurt you!”

He starts laughing, you feel confused,

“Why are you laughing? I don’t wanna make you feel pain, even if it’s just practice.”

He looks at you, his eyes still squished upward from smiling,

“No offense er nothin’ but, I don’t think yer strong enough t’give my body pain. Which’s why I need ya t’punch me hard as ya can, so I can see what I’m workin’ with.”

You forgot how unbelievably strong this beast before you really was. You realized how silly it may have come off thinking you could even scratch him. Feeling less powerful than Tommy didn’t make you feel as scared or helpless as when you were made to feel weak from regular men, every time you mentioned to men you knew that you wanted to try self-defense, they would bombard you with demeaning words, saying ‘no woman is stronger than a man, self-defense is useless’.

Tommy was different than them, instead of trying to tear you down for trying to protect yourself, he encouraged you and helps out. He wanted you to feel powerful like him, but most importantly, he wanted you to feel safe and confident on your own.

Tommy stood up straight, rising to his full height, his head almost hitting the ceiling. He pointed at the center of his stomach and said,

“Hit here as hard as ya can.”

You widen your stance and pull back your fist then thrusting it forward using all of your muscle, the hit connected but Tommy didn’t even flinch or budge. It was like punching steel covered in a thick layer of rubber, he was built so solid it was no wonder he didn’t care how hard you hit.

He relaxed himself a little bit and put his hand to his chin,

“That was, a real good hit. If I were anyone else, that might’ve hurt. Good Job”

Tommy then tells you he wants you to try some floor holds. He moves to the floor and you follow, he mounts over your back and gently holds your arm and neck. Once again you feel excitement at his body being so close to yours, he instructs you on how to escape the hold and you succeed with each try.

The final hold you were to get out of managed to land you on top of Tommys chest, he leaned his head back and said,

“I think that’s enough learnin’ for today.”

You laugh and steady yourself on him, your legs had to spread wide to be able to straddle him for stability though your knees were still unable to reach the floor. You smile as you look into his eyes, their deep blue penetrates through the dim light of the basement. He lets out a relaxed sigh and runs his hands up your thighs to reach your hips were he gently holds onto you; You remained silent, there was nothing you could say, the trance he had over you was intoxicating.

He let out a deep hum and traced his eyes all over your form just drinking in your magnetic beauty, his mind was running rampant with primal thoughts of desire, he did well to control himself under the overwhelming pressure. Tommy felt a deep burning for you, a longing, he cherished spending time alone with you. To him, you were an oasis in a desert of torment and trauma, a glimmer of light in the dark pit of hell that is his mind.

When he tries to sit up, you press your hands into his chest and push him back down, his laugh muffled by his mask. You grin, knowing he is receptive to being a bit playful now, so you take the opportunity to make him squirm. He is holding his torso up with his arms pushing off the floor, looking up at you, it was an interesting sight to take in, you have this massive giant pinned down waiting for you to control the next move; You could feel your core heating up with the anticipation of what comes next. In an effort to torment him, you moved your hips further back so your groin lay on top of his.

His eyes changed expression, they were now half lidded and dilated, his eyebrows rolled up toward his forehead as if he were worried, but this was not worry, this was a begging plea for you to further push your salacious antics. You let your body weight press into him and sat comfortably on a dangerous area, as you gently rolled your hips in a subtle attempt to arouse him, his breath hitched and he leaned his head back closing his eyes. You looked on as he exposed his trunk-like neck, the pulsation of his heart beat was visible through his muscle; You grind your hips on him, it was a playful way to tell him what you wanted without asking, but he was too cautious and didn’t add in his own movements despite desperately wanting to.

His body couldn’t hide his desire and you quickly felt your tenderness being pressed into by a stone-like presence. He was erect to the fullest extent and you didn’t need to look down to see the pipelines length that you were seated on, you could feel it. He let out a strained sigh that ended with a barely audible whimper, you knew he was enjoying the suffering, he wanted to badly to get inside the enigma of a woman that was you, he wanted to make the walls of your femininity flitter with release. He grabbed the sides of your hips and pushed your body to continue making the wave-like motions he craved so badly, you complied and enhanced the movements to see how far you could walk the line.

He was breathing heavy and was so focused on your expression to make sure he didn’t see any winces of pain or reluctance. He could feel the intense heat from between your legs which only fueled his actions further, he watched as your face reddened with blush, he was taken with the vision in front of him; A woman so kind and unique, so perfect, was seated on top of him, his bulging manhood was a pitiful three layers of cloth away from ecstasy. He could feel himself bubbling up inside, he knew what was coming so he stopped movement, he didn’t want to let his fluid touch you unless you told him you wanted it.

You feel his hands release your hips, and he remained still, his chest still heaving and a mist of sweat formed on his skin. It was jarring to have the fun stop so abruptly but you knew there was a reason, you just didn’t know what it was.

“Everything ok?” you asked.

He lay there with his hands to his side, staring up at the ceiling, he replied,

“It’s t’much fer me. Ah feel ready t’splode.”

You suppress a grin and lean over him, resting your torso on his chest and lay your head down on him with your hands folded in front of your face, you say,

“We don’t have to go further if you aren’t ready. I’m in no rush.”

He felt badly for seemingly ruining the fun, but he didn’t know how much more he could handle, he looks up at you and adds,

“Ah dunno if I can keep m’self held down when y’mess with me”

You smile at him and run your hand through his hair, you give him some gentle words,

“When the time is right, we’ll know, and when it comes, I want you to let loose.”

You knew he was trying to warn you about what he thinks he will do, but he didn’t know you were ready and willing to experience whatever may come, even if it could put you in danger, you didn’t care, you just wanted to let go and be free and wild with him. He put his arms around you and squeezed your body into his, if this was a bear hug it could have been mistaken for a grizzly.

“I care ‘bout ya, y’know that?” his voice was deep and serious.

You put both your hands on the sides of his head and pull his face in, and say,

“I hope you know I feel the same about you.”

His eyes light up with joy and he sits up, lifting you with him, your legs still tight around his hips. Your body slid down right onto his erection which pressed into your mound with force as you sank,

“Ay Woah!“ you wince in pain.

he quickly lifted your body up off his stiffness and lowered you down behind it so you could sit on his lap.

“Ah dang sorry! Didn’t mean t’hurt y’there” he was full of concern, he briefly forgot how long he kept firm for.

You blush and let out a laugh,

“It’s ok, guess I’m gonna have to prepare for that.”

He was surprised at your reaction, he thought for sure you would be put off by his size and hardness, he was told by Charlie on numerous occasions that women were scared of ‘big dicks’ and that he’d be lucky to even graze up against a ‘kitty’. No matter what you may say to him, he was still so sure that when the time came, you would not even attempt, so he kept his hopes low and chose to just enjoy the fun while it lasted.

You look down at the thing that poked your lower region, you could see a massive bulge shooting up into his jeans. The length of it shocked you but the real surprise was how strong it was, it seemed like his pants would rip open from pressure. You couldn’t help but reach out to touch it, you place your hand on the tip and slide downward to feel its entirety. Thomas gasped but didn’t stop you, he just watched wondering what would come next.

You smirk to yourself, it felt like you were touching a metal pipe, you traversed his length again to feel how thick it was, you weren’t able to fully gauge its circumference so you put your hands on his pant zipper but stopped abruptly,

“Can I… look?” you spoke in a breathy tone.

Thomas nods slowly, you unbutton the top of his jeans and unzip the crotch, his penis bounces upward, still covered by his black boxer briefs. You gently pull him out of confinement, it was emitting a lot of heat and warms your hand as you wrap your fingers around it. The width is beyond what your single hand could grasp, your fingers had almost 3 inches of space between fingertips.

You got off his lap and sat in a kneeling position in front of him so you could better see what you were dealing with. Tommy was breathing heavily, every touch from your hands made him inhale sharply and his penis twitched with anticipation. You used both hands to feel all over his manhood, large veins trailed around the base, he had a large glans, the ‘neck’ protected by a short layer of skin which pulled back revealing the bright pink tip. You saw a bead of pre-cum already forming at the opening, with a gentle tap, you touched it and pulled back with it stretching and leaving a glimmering trail from tip to finger.

To your surprise, he didn’t have a smell, most men you interacted with had some sort of musk or skin smell to them, but he had an earthy scent to him like he was working with plants all day. This just made you want to taste him badly, you had to know what flavor his desire was, so you started to lean down towards it, you saw his eyes widen quickly but he didn’t move an inch.

You gave it a soft lick on the tip, he let out a stifled moan and his cock twitched so forcefully that you lost grip of it.

“Is this ok?” you ask earnestly.

He nods enthusiastically, so you continue your torturous licks making sure to hold firmly so he wouldn’t slip away again. The head of his penis was large and had a pronounced lip, the kind of shape capable of friction that your G-spot would feel so intensely. His shaft was almost as long as your forearm and had a hefty underside which would have weighed it down if he didn’t seem to have such strong pelvic muscles.

You felt desperate to have him inside you, his dick was not only impressive but curved slightly upwards and the curiosity of how it would feel in you was driving you wild. You could feel a slick form in your folds causing your hole to twitch in anticipation. Your licks became more aggressive until you decided to put your mouth around the tip of his cock, Tommy let out a whimper then groaned as you began to suck. The expression in his eyes was glorious, you saw his eyes roll upwards before he closed them and leaned his head back exposing his gorgeous thick neck.

You began to slowly bob your head up and down, getting as much of him inside your mouth as you could handle, you positioned your tongue underneath the base of his head to accept more inside. Tommy was now a moaning mess, every flick of your tongue or squeeze of your mouth made him louder. You could feel he was ready to cum because his penis began to pulsate and his legs tensed up.

You removed his dick from your mouth and rubbed with your hands quickly, you were excited to see how much he was capable of making. With a few more movements he clenched his teeth and grunted loudly; a bright white liquid came shooting out of him. You gasped as you watched the cum explode out of him in thick ropes, you never seen someone cum so much and so hard in your life, he quickly grabbed his cock and aimed it away from you while still groaning with his orgasm.

You were surprised how much was still flowing out, it shimmered as it seeped into the rug beneath you both, he was panting heavily as the last few spurts pushed out onto the ground before him. Once the ejaculate stopped, he flopped onto his back trying to catch his breath. You crawled up to him and lay next to him, he put his arm around you and lifted you up towards his face.

“Yer a real vixen, gettin’ me bent outta shape.”

You laugh, “You’re fun to play with”

He places you next to him and sits up putting his dick back in his pants, he turns to look at you,

“I didn’t… make a mess on ya did I?”

You shake your head and smile, he continues,

“Good. I never had no one do that t’me” he stands up, “I hope it didn’t scare ya none”

He held out his hand to help you up, you reply,

“Nope. Now I just want more”

You both hear Luda Mae call out for you both that dinner was ready, Tommy walks with you out to the stairwell leading up to the main floor. He stops you with both hands, he bends down to look you in the eyes,

“I’m gon start messin’ with y’now. Ya had yer fun, now I’m gon’ show you how it feels” His voice was a deep whisper, he kept his hands firmly on your arms and stood up straight, you give a devilish smirk,

“Ive been waiting for you to say that”

He releases his grip, and watched as you walked up the stairs with a smug swagger. He was excited to play this erotic cat and mouse game with you, now he was going to have some real fun giving you the ache of desire with nothing to do about it.

He spoke quietly to himself,

“She’s gon’ kill me”

He grins and follows up the stairs after you.

#what ya writin #thomas hewitt #thomas hewitt x y/n #slasher community #thomas hewitt x afab reader #leatherface 2006 #texas chainsaw massacre #my art #the fruit after the flesh #slasher smut #slasher x reader #slasher thirst #slasher fandom #tw blood #dark romance

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snarky-magpie · 21 hours

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I completely finished PS. two months ago. That's wild! Still can't believe I wrote a 145K-word story :D But I feel almost recovered enough to tackle another long fic. No texting this time, though. Just a good old voldy-free Hogwarts AU with enemies to lovers jeggy.

Reg: Busy?

James: You’re contacting me first for the second time in two days? Aren’t you worried about the effects on my ego?

Reg: You’re impossible.

Reg: So is your ego. That thing can’t get any bigger.

James: I’d like to point out that I am a complete gentleman, so I won’t make a joke where I very well could.

Reg: Suddenly, I regret the choice to message you.

James: We both know you don’t. You just need to say that to make yourself feel better. Admit it. You can’t enjoy your life devoid of my presence anymore. Drawing breath grows tiresome without my wit shining light into your dreary days.

Reg: I really hope your next book isn’t this trite.

James: You’re possibly the most caustic person I’ve ever met.

Reg: I am not that bad. The problem is you. You probably live in a forest meadow, surrounded by talking mice, helpful birds, and unicorns. Anyway, if you want to see caustic, try talking to my mother.

James: I’ll keep an eye out for a woman in a Dalmatian coat.

Reg: Honestly, not that far off.

James: So. What’s going on?

Reg: Nothing. Just checking in. I’ve, ugh. Missed you?

James: Are you asking me or telling me?

Reg: Why can’t you just accept the nice gesture? Why do you have to take the piss?

James: Because it’s fun, riling you up. I imagine you get all flustered and red-cheeked, eyes glinting with righteous fury, fingers moving so fast over the screen that they become a blur.

Reg: God, you’re annoying.

James: I’m right, though, aren’t I?

Reg: That’s classified.

#jegulus #james potter #regulus black #starchaser #dead gay wizards #the marauders #ao3fic

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suitmana · 2 months

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what animals do u see the lgts cast as

hmmmmm

elise - chihuahua, easy. a cute little guy you can carry around in your tote bag who scrounges the garbage can at ungodly hours? a spunky gremlin that yaps when they don't get their way and knows their worth? elise-coded 100%

freya - she's as fluffy as a brown bear both in terms of personality and appearance!!! i want to hug them!!! her entire vibe is just a carefree brown bear frolicking in the meadows and honestly good on her. though you know how they both look cuddly but can easily crush your bones? yeah freya your hugs are great but please watch the ribs...

lebkuchen - foxes are often associated with intelligence and mischief, which is pretty much leb! if it weren't for her strong sense of duty she'd be such a menace. and the way they hunt reminds me of her: very patient, knows exactly what you're up to, and just waiting to pounce

rozenmarine - ok hear me out tarsiers!! they're small (really small) nocturnal fluffballs that like to chill on treetops during the day. they're pretty hard to spot because of that. they have these really big round eyes and it just feels like they're always so curious about the world, like rozen!! also they can be slightly unnerving when they stare straight at you and well. rozen certainly has had her unsettling moments

muffy - raccoon. need i say more.

gustav - grizzly bear; basically a bigger, fluffier freya. they both have the protective parent vibes, pretty scary when you piss them off. otherwise pretty chill. also gustav's just a really hairy guy so

father hans - probably a lion just to subvert their association. a self-righteous clergyman who acts as kieferberg's moral compass in the most ironic way possible, but make him a "noble" lion

welma - the laziest turkish angora cat ever. don't let that laziness fool you though, she and leb are a terrifyingly effective gossip mill when you combine leb's perceptiveness and welma's charms

#little goody two shoes #lgts #i just realized i associate all of the girls except for freya with small animals #imagine taking a group pic with them and there's just this fluffy giant in the back #oooh what if they actually did have that sleepover and they all fell asleep on freya that'd be cute

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aqimilhujjah · 4 months

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For The Wife Of A Martyr

“Glad tidings to you, oh wife of the sh-heed! Oh you who has been crowned with the honor of being the wife of a knight who has been slain in the Cause of Allah, the one left the delights of this wordly life and sought the highest levels of Paradise for both of you! So may the birds sing with the most beautiful melodies and may the sun warm the earth around you, the morning you rise upon such a noble status.

Though this is an accomplishment and great victory for your muj husband, it is nevertheless a sad separation that releases the river of hot tears of longing and hurts the aching heart of a bereaved wife, friend and soul mate. For every memory stings the open wound, every familiar scent brings back a day and a time in which he was still around and every time you have something to tell him, it becomes another draft in the notes of your mind, unable to send. The plans you imagined with him in this world cease to be and every season that passes is a reminder of that. The mourning period consists of 4 months and ten days but there will always be a piece of you, eulogizing him within the forests of your heart that set ablaze every time you remember, he's gone.

He has exited this dunya, he's departed and he has set off to the next destination, without you. His passing is not the burden upon you for he has achieved death in the best of ways and sealed his life with the best of stamps, m-rtyrdom in the Cause of Allah. Death is a matter of certainty and it will definitely reach everyone, our souls will not pass through this lifetime except that it will be taken in death to enter the next realm. But the sorrows in your heart that sprout out like mushrooms in the spring are due to the bitter feelings of being left behind in this world without your partner. The one who you walked beside through the thick and thin, the ease and hardships, the fierce storms and the peaceful meadows of your lives, together.

Allow me to console you, oh honorable sister, with the glad tidings Allah gave you and every beloved one striving for sh-hada, left behind a sh-heed. The martyrs are {Rejoicing in what Allāh has bestowed upon them of His bounty, and they receive good tidings about those [to be martyred] after them who have not yet joined them - that there will be no fear concerning them, nor will they grieve.) Ibn Kathir in his tafsir says: 'They are also awaiting their brethren, who will die in Allah's Cause after them, for they will be meeting them soon.'

Look forward, oh sister, to the Day in which the truthful will benefit from their truthfulness. The Day in which there will be no injustice, the martyrs will intercede for their families and the gates of Paradise will be opened wide for those who attain it. {Indeed the companions of Paradise, that Day, will be amused in [joyfull occupation - they and their spouses - in shade, reclining on adorned couches. For them therein is fruit, and for them is whatever they request [or wish).}

{Gardens of perpetual residence; they will enter them with whoever were righteous among their forefathers, their spouses and their descendants. And the angels will enter upon them from every gate, [saying], "Peace lie., security] be upon you for what you patiently endured." And excellent is the final home.}? Ibn Kathir states in his tafsir that 'Allah will gather them with their loved ones, from among their fathers, family members and offspring, those who are righteous and deserve to enter Paradise, so that their eyes are comforted by seeing them. He will also elevate the grade of those who are lower, to the grades of those who are higher, a favor from Him out of His kindness, without decreasing the grade of those who are higher up (in Paradise).'

Be pleased with the Decree of Allah for you and your husband, acknowledge the Bounty of Allah upon you for bestowing upon you the privilege of once serving a muj who sought m-rtyrdom in His Cause. Though this time of being apart may make you walk through what it seems like the alleyways of loneliness, take comfort in the last third of the night in prayer to Allah, seeking His Help and asking Him to reunite you with your husband in Jannah. Read the Quran and contemplate with a conscious mind. Turn to your Creator, for He is the Only One Able to mend your broken heart! This loss is temporary, in sha Allah, and perhaps soon your time will also arrive to return back to Allah. So look at yourself and look well, what have you prepared for the meeting with your Lord?

Allow this transition in your life to elevate you to the high ranks in Jannah by increasing in good deeds and much tawbah (repentance), istighfar (seeking forgiveness from Allah) and inaabah (turning back to Allah in obedience.) If you have children, raise them upon the haqq and remind them of the J-had of their father. Narrate to them the bravery and righteousness of their rolemodel after the Prophet ﷺ and teach them the traits of a sh-heed. And remember, your husband has achieved his goal of m-rtyrdom, so now it's time for you to work on achieving yours.”

#tawheed #tawhid #muwahideen #green bird #shaheed

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kyuusei-shadowleaf · 5 months

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No Agreements With Fire

[ Photo by raquel raclette on Unsplash ]

“There, that should do it.”

Deep within Sor'theril Barrow Den, Ymalius stepped back, kicking aside discarded bandages stained with blood and ashes to examine his handiwork. In front of him, a kaldorei sat on a low stool, stripped to the waist with her back turned to the healer's work. Burns and cuts littered her shoulders, back, and arms, each wound carefully cleaned and even now fading as the green dragon’s potent magic sped the healing process.

“You ought to rest, you know.” He stepped close again to trace a burn along her left arm where the flesh had once been seared to black. It was almost recovered, well ahead of her other wounds, the swirled markings on her skin clearly visible once more. “This healing’s going to take a lot out of you.” He snorted, visage turning to a wry smile. “But you should know that by now”

“What am I supposed to do, hrm?” Kyuusei half-turned, silvered gaze looking sidelong at the dragon. “Rest in the Dream?” Her laugh was humorless. “We’re already here. They’re already here. And I told her I’d protect it. You knew what you were doing when you dragged me out of Val’sharah and asked me to come to the Isles. Don't tell me to rest now.” She leaned forward again to rest her elbows on her knees, long, unruly hair obscuring her face.

“I suppose,” Ymalius mused, “I did.” Of all the healing wounds on Kyuu’s back, one old scar had resisted all attempts at mending. Between her shoulder blades, the skin was warped in a palm-sized circle, twisted like clay beneath the hand of some cruel potter. “What about this?” he asked, lightly touching the disfigurement.

Kyuusei jerked forward as if shocked. She glared over her shoulder, lips pulled back in a fanged snarl, and Ymalius quickly stepped away to raise his hands in placation. The druid reached for her tunic with an abrupt motion and stood to pull it over her head, back still turned as she became engrossed in the act of lacing the leather garment. “There’s nothing about it,” she snapped back. “I don’t have time for this, Ymalius. I need to get back out there.”

“You forget what I am, Kyuu.” Still circumspect, he moved to the opposite side of the small barrow, leaning against the wall with affected nonchalance. “I’m a dreamwarden, and I slumbered in that meadow outside your cottage for years. Long before you arrived there. I knew your dreams while I slept.” Ymalius sighed ruefully. “And I know your nightmares as well. I know how you came by that scar. Are you going to tell anyone before it comes back to burn you?”

With a last tug at the laces of her tunic, Kyuu turned to face him. Her eyes were still set in a glare, but with a slow exhale of breath, her gaze softened and her shoulders drooped. “Tell them what? The Circle already knows about Delyra, knows she went to the Flame, knows I was the one that killed her at Hyjal. I loved her since we were children, Ymalius. What am I supposed to tell the Circle now, that I was so heartbroken when she left that I tried to follow her, and the Druids of the Flame wouldn’t even have me? That they just... marked me and cast me back out? That I slunk back to the Circle to join the assault on the Firelands instead?”

She took a deep breath before squaring her shoulders. “No. That’s the past. I’ve been lost and burned and found myself again since then. This is what matters now. “ Kyuusei gestured to the passage that led out of the barrow and back to the Emerald Dream. “Amirdrassil. That tree, that – hope.”

“You’re not afraid someone will come forward?” The dragon pushed off the wall and gathered the discarded bandages for a waste bin. “That some disciple of Flame will speak up under interrogation? Her!” Yamalius abruptly took on a self-righteous cast as he leveled a taloned finger at Kyuu in mock accusation. “She came to us in the past! You can’t trust her!” He lifted a brow in question.

Kyuusei’s response was flat and sure. “No. The ones who cast me out? They’re dead. I remember that clearly enough. And these... zealots? Cultists? They’re something different. I thought I was the only one left to remember until you opened your mouth. Besides,” a lopsided grin, the expression familiar and comforting, crept across her features, “I was recruited to defend the Dream by a member of the Green Dragonflight. You. That has to be worth something, dora dor.”

Ymalius gave a low chortle. “It might be, a little bit. I’m sorry, Kyuu. I just don’t think there’s room for doubts out there anymore.” He canted his head. “I had to be sure.”

“You say you’ve seen my dreams,” Kyuu snorted, “but you still needed to be sure. So much for the storied wisdom of Dragonkind. Come on, we need to get back out there.”

A few-score paces took them out of the barrow den, followed by the thunder of broad wings striking the air as Ymalius bore them north to the Wellspring of Life, where the fight against Primalists, Djaradin, and Druids of the Flame was fiercest.

And if the torches that lit the barrow den were dimmer, their flame guttering lower with Kyuusei’s departure, there were no eyes remaining in the barrow to notice...

References

Influences – Delyra

A Repressed Memory – The Firelands

A Dream of You

#kyuustory #no agreement with flames #amirdrassil #druids of the flame

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chimeclan-tales · 8 months

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Moon 2 - Newleaf

Muscle Memory

TW - mentions of disease (and its graphic symptoms), implied death, blood in the second image

Finally. I’m far enough.

The gray tom could no longer hold his excitement. It took too long to convince his clanmates he was asleep, and even longer to navigate the bramble walls of the camp.

They’re waiting.

He quickened his pace and pushed through the undergrowth. It was a perfect night to spend with…

“Sunbloom?” He whispered. He recognized their scent, but they were nowhere to be seen. “Apologies, I’m late.”

“Oh, what a gentletom,” A teasing voice meowed from the treetops. He looked to a branch above, and there they were. The familiar ginger pelt and blue eyes. Almost violet, like iris flowers. “Come, the view up here is worth seeing.”

He sighed but obliged. The cats slowly climbed through the branches– until they were at the highest point.

Although the moon was as thin as a claw, it covered the forest in a soft, mellow glow. The stars twinkled above, and the cool Newleaf breeze brushed past them. A moment of peace, from all the bustling activity in the clans.

“How have you been?” Beetail meowed softly.

“You sound like we’re from different clans,” His partner let out a soft purr. “Like we haven’t seen each other in moons.”

“But you haven’t left the healers’ den all day.”

Sunbloom sighed, and rested their head against Beetail’s shoulder. He could feel their soft fur and steady breathing.

“Sunbloom?”

“...The sickness seems more complicated than we thought,” They meowed, no longer hiding the weariness in their voice.

“What happened?”

“The remedies for aching joints have done nothing. Gravelpelt can barely move. Nectarkit might not make it tomorrow.”

“I thought the kit visited you for bruises…” Beetail tried to suppress the dread building up in his throat.

“Ghostflood had shared prey with Gravelpelt,” They continued. “She hasn’t shown any symptoms, but maybe passed it through her milk. Even Rimethorn has told me to be careful around Fogstar’s reopened wounds. The blood could pass it.”

Beetail curled his tail tighter around Sunbloom.

“But I’m being careful, don’t worry.”

“That doesn’t change how dangerous this all is.”

“I know, but we can’t stop and do nothing,” Their blue eyes met his yellow ones. “StarClan gave us a prophecy. There will be a cure...”

================================

“Beetail?”

Windstar’s voice snapped the senior warrior out of his thoughts. He was no longer in the forests of IrisClan. Here and now, these were the meadows of ChimeClan.

“Can you repeat that?” Beetail flicked his ear, annoyed at himself. All this talk about StarClan was getting to him.

“Did you visit StarClan at the Moon Falls?” Windstar meowed as he padded along the border.

“...Nightsplash did,” Beetail finally meowed. “I don’t intend to visit until I drop dead.”

“But things are different now. Don’t you even want to see your mate again?”

Windstar’s met them?

“No.”

Beetail could feel Windstar’s gaze on his pelt. Although they were once from different clans, the journey made the leader familiar with his mannerisms. Including his shifting paws and shortened responses when he lied.

“Beetail…”

“It was their fault they died!” He spat. “So righteous… Thinking they were some invincible prophecy cat, then left to slowly die from the Rotting. I would’ve preferred if a monster had taken them!”

“It was Sunbloom’s choice–”

“A mousebrained choice!”

He didn’t want to leave his clan to die, but he couldn’t keep watching Sunbloom’s slow death. No, he didn’t even get to watch it.

After moons of toil, Sunbloom’s final moments were spent alone. Despite the pain from their bones, the blood dripping from their muzzle, they marched deep in the forest. A final desperate search for the strange herb StarClan had promised.

It was never found.

“I don’t know what StarClan was thinking back then,” He hissed. “I don’t know what Sunbloom– what anyone was thinking! None of it made sense. I don’t–”

Both cats stopped the moment they heard barking in the distance.

“GULLPAW!”

Their fur prickled as a cat screamed in pain. The small body of an apprentice was thrown out of the jaws of a dog.

With a nod, Windstar jumped across the SpikeClan border. Beetail shook his pelt and all his thoughts out. It was time to focus.

“Paws off him, mutt!” A brawny she-cat slashed at the dog’s muzzle.

Before it could retaliate, Windstar had landed and dug his claws into its back. It turned, trying to buck him off, but the she-cat swiped at its hind legs.

Beetail ran past them to check on the poor apprentice. The brown tabby’s eyes were wide with fear, and his leg had been mangled.

StarClan, he looks like he just turned six moons. I need to stop the bleeding.

“W-who… Who—”

“Don’t worry,” Beetail meowed as he searched the nearby trees for cobwebs. The battle between the dog and the two cats continued, but Beetail knew what Windstar was capable of. “I’m here to help.”

A soft breeze tugged at his fur and guided his gaze. He jumped and dug his claws into the tree trunk. He wanted to relish the familiar feeling of his claws in the wood, but a cat needed help.

The cobwebs were now in his mouth, and from above, he could spot the forest floor below. He leapt to where the stalks of a plant laid.

“Eat these,” He ran back to the apprentice. “Thyme will help with the shock.”

“T-Time? Am I–” “The leaves.”

The apprentice obeyed as Beetail patched his leg with the cobwebs. The sounds of battle had died down, and two cats now approached them.

“Oi!” The brawny SpikeClan cat yelled. She, like Windstar, was lucky to avoid any injuries, and could run at full speed. “Is Gullpaw alright?”

“His condition is stable,” Beetail meowed. “But be careful bringing him back to camp.”

“You ChimeClan cats had no business bein’ here,” She meowed. “But. Uh. Thank you. As the deputy of SpikeClan, my clanmates will hear of this.”

She approached her apprentice who, with Windstar’s help, clambered onto her back.

“T-Thank you…” Gullpaw meowed softly. “ChimeClan…”

As the SpikeClan cats disappeared into the forest, Beetail suddenly sat down. The adrenaline had dissipated, and his aged muscles started to complain.

“Beetail?”

“...I’m alright,” He sighed. “I think… I’ll need a break from patrolling.”

Previous Moon Event - An Annoying Kitten

Next Moon Event - COMING SOON

#ima be real i made the gullpaw picture before i finished writing this #anyone know Arknights EN indra's battle lines? yeah that's what featherwhisker sounds like #clangen #clan generator #warrior cats #warriors oc #chimeclan #clan gen oc #my art #art #writing #worldbuilding #windstar #beetail #spikeclan #tw blood #tw illness #tw disease #clan gen

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ambafaerie · 2 years

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Meadow Soprano and Shiv Roy are so similar it makes me sick.

These two women were born into wealth. They are go getting liberal leaning career girls. We are introduced to them as smart and ambitious women who have made a career outside the family business and believe themselves above it all.

Shiv is estranged from her mother. Meadow looks down on hers for being a housewife. They are both regarded as better than their brothers by their father.

These two women are aware of the ugliness beneath their respective families business. The Mafia for Meadow and the massive cover up of sexual abuse by Waystar Royco for Shiv.

Which is why they distance themselves away from any association in the beginning convincing themselves that they are morally correct and self righteous for doing so, even though it was their family name that mainly brought them so far in their careers.

Though try as they might to rebel against their fathers, doing anything leftist to displease their conservative patriarchs. The allure and glamour of the high end lifestyle their fathers provide through spilt blood is too much to resist.

In the end, Meadow and Shiv waltz back in to the arms of the family business they once derided. Justifying to themselves once again why their choice is acceptable and what their family does is reasonable.

#the sopranos #succession #meadow soprano #shiv roy #meta #amba post #tony soprano #logan roy #carmela soprano #carolin collingwood

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orthodoxadventure · 5 months

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Psalm 37 (NKJV)

Do not fret because of evildoers, Nor be envious of the workers of iniquity. For they shall soon be cut down like the grass, And wither as the green herb.

Trust in the Lord, and do good; Dwell in the land, and feed on His faithfulness. Delight yourself also in the Lord, And He shall give you the desires of your heart.

Commit your way to the Lord, Trust also in Him, And He shall bring it to pass. He shall bring forth your righteousness as the light, And your justice as the noonday.

Rest in the Lord, and wait patiently for Him; Do not fret because of him who prospers in his way, Because of the man who brings wicked schemes to pass. Cease from anger, and forsake wrath; Do not fret—it only causes harm.

For evildoers shall be cut off; But those who wait on the Lord, They shall inherit the earth. For yet a little while and the wicked shall be no more; Indeed, you will look carefully for his place, But it shall be no more. But the meek shall inherit the earth, And shall delight themselves in the abundance of peace.

The wicked plots against the just, And gnashes at him with his teeth. The Lord laughs at him, For He sees that his day is coming. The wicked have drawn the sword And have bent their bow, To cast down the poor and needy, To slay those who are of upright conduct. Their sword shall enter their own heart, And their bows shall be broken.

A little that a righteous man has Is better than the riches of many wicked. For the arms of the wicked shall be broken, But the Lord upholds the righteous.

The Lord knows the days of the upright, And their inheritance shall be forever. They shall not be ashamed in the evil time, And in the days of famine they shall be satisfied. But the wicked shall perish; And the enemies of the Lord, Like the splendor of the meadows, shall vanish. Into smoke they shall vanish away.

The wicked borrows and does not repay, But the righteous shows mercy and gives. For those blessed by Him shall inherit the earth, But those cursed by Him shall be cut off.

The steps of a good man are ordered by the Lord, And He delights in his way. Though he fall, he shall not be utterly cast down; For the Lord upholds him with His hand.

I have been young, and now am old; Yet I have not seen the righteous forsaken, Nor his descendants begging bread. He is ever merciful, and lends; And his descendants are blessed.

Depart from evil, and do good; And dwell forevermore. For the Lord loves justice, And does not forsake His saints; They are preserved forever, But the descendants of the wicked shall be cut off. The righteous shall inherit the land, And dwell in it forever.

The mouth of the righteous speaks wisdom, And his tongue talks of justice. The law of his God is in his heart; None of his steps shall slide.

The wicked watches the righteous, And seeks to slay him. The Lord will not leave him in his hand, Nor condemn him when he is judged.

Wait on the Lord, And keep His way, And He shall exalt you to inherit the land; When the wicked are cut off, you shall see it. I have seen the wicked in great power, And spreading himself like a native green tree. Yet he passed away, and behold, he was no more; Indeed I sought him, but he could not be found.

Mark the blameless man, and observe the upright; For the future of that man is peace. But the transgressors shall be destroyed together; The future of the wicked shall be cut off.

But the salvation of the righteous is from the Lord; He is their strength in the time of trouble. And the Lord shall help them and deliver them; He shall deliver them from the wicked, And save them, Because they trust in Him.

#Christianity #Bible #Bible Verse #Scripture #Psalms

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ailendolin · 10 months

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Title: Now and for Always [AO3]

Characters: Crowley/Aziraphale

Warnings: Spoilers for the season 2 finale.

Summary: Instead of stepping forward into the lift, Aziraphale turns left.

————

Now and for Always

“We call it the Second Coming.”

Something in Aziraphale’s chest tightens with a terrible feeling. It makes it hard to breathe, pulls at him until he is looking to his left, down the street to the car – to their car. To Crowley who is just standing there, perfectly still. He’s not driving away, not going anywhere – just looking, waiting, giving him time. And Aziraphale–

Aziraphale longs to cross the street.

He longs and wants and hurts like he never has before. Until it becomes so unbearable that he finally does what he should have done the moment Crowley kissed him with the desperation of a thousand stars being born: he listens to his heart.

“I’m sorry,” he tells Metatron without taking his eyes off Crowley, terrified that Crowley is going to disappear into the vastness of the universe the moment he looks away. “I’ve changed my mind.”

Metatron’s voice takes on a threatening edge but Aziraphale barely hears him as he turns away. He sets one foot in front of the other, takes the first step and then the second one, and the thing in his chest that’s been clawing at him only moments ago slowly starts to ease. The farther away from the lift and closer to Crowley he gets, the easier it becomes to walk away. It is liberating, and he suddenly finds himself smiling as a weight lifts off his shoulders.

Across the street, Crowley is still waiting for him. Aziraphale can’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses but he can see his mouth opening in surprise. There is no anger edged into the lines of that dear, beloved face now, no heart-breaking despair, no righteous fury. There is only hope, so beautiful and bright that it resonates in Aziraphale’s entire being and sings an aria no human could ever possibly dream of composing. It settles between the feathers of his wings, as comforting as a hug, and just like that he knows he’s made the right choice. It feels like puzzle pieces falling into place, like finding a copy of a book he’s been searching for for ages and placing it in the empty space on the shelf where it was always meant to be.

It feels like coming home.

Behind him, the lift pings faintly. His chance of becoming an Archangel disappears into Heaven along with Metatron but Aziraphale can’t bring himself to care. He’s halfway across the street by now and all that matters in that moment is Crowley and the way he takes off his glasses and looks at him. He has seen that look before, a long time ago when they were watching the universe take shape in vibrant explosions of colour. Back then, that look had been aimed at the wonders of creation around them. Now – now it was aimed at him, and Aziraphale wonders how he could have ever thought of turning his back on it; of letting Crowley go.

“Crowley,” he says breathlessly when he finally comes to stand before him.

“Aziraphale,” Crowley says, guarded. That thing in Aziraphale’s chest tightens again. He is too late. He took too long to make up his mind. He was too slow, always too slow. But then Crowley’s eyes soften and he reaches up to touch his cheek. “Angel.”

Aziraphale’s face crumples. He lets out a ragged breath and presses Crowley’s hand as tightly as he can against his skin, keeping him tethered to him now and for always.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, not caring that it comes out a sobbing mess when Crowleys thumb brushes over his cheek, infinitely gentle and reassuring. “I’m sorry I made you wait. Forgive me?”

Crowley’s answering laugh caresses his skin like a summer wind dancing in the meadows. “That’s more your side’s kind of business, Angel.”

“No,” Aziraphale says, desperate for him to understand. “There is no ‘my side’. Not anymore.”

“No?” Crowley echoes. His voice trembles.

Aziraphale shakes his head. “No. There’s only ours.”

He holds Crowley’s gaze and lets him see the truth amid the tears, regret and shame – the love that has always been there, even before the Beginning. A love no amount of indoctrination has ever been able to stamp out and no form of punishment, no matter how fiercely threatened, has had any hope to extinguish. It’s as much a part of him as his wings are, and while it might cost him Heaven, it gains him something that is so beautifully human he can’t possibly regret or doubt it.

“Ours?” Crowley asks. His fingers are trembling against Aziraphale’s cheek. “Are you sure? Because I need you to be sure about this, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale smiles. “I have never been more sure of anything in my existence.”

With that, he cups Crowley’s face with his free hand and finally closes the distance between them. The kiss is everything their first one wasn’t: tentative and gentle like the morning dawn, and slow and sweet like the moonrise over becalmed waters. For a moment, he allows his eyes to close so he can get lost in it all – the feeling, the sensations, the love he feels in every corner of his being – and when they pull apart after what feels like an eternity, all he can think is, Gabriel and Beelzebub had it right.

“Any regrets?” Crowley asks quietly. He’s looking as if he standing on the edge of a drop-off and is waiting to find out whether he will get pushed into the depths of the abyss or pulled back from the ledge by gentle hands. Aziraphale knows that’s his fault. He also knows more apologies won’t help, no matter how readily they sit on his tongue, demanding to be spoken. It’s going to be a long time until Crowley will be able to completely trust him again but that’s all right. If there’s one thing they both have in abundance, it’s time.

“I never had any regrets when it comes to you, Crowley,” he says softly and allows his thumb to brush over the sensitive skin under Crowley’s eye in reverence and worship. Then he smiles and nods towards the bookshop. “We will have to find a proper place for your plants.”

Crowley follows his gaze. “I suppose we do.”

He lets his hand fall from Aziraphale’s face and holds it out to him. Aziraphale takes it without hesitation. It feels right. It feels good. “Let’s go home, then.”

“Home,” Crowley repeats softly. Slowly, the right corner of his mouth quirks up. “I like the sound of that.”

As if on cue, the heavens open up above them. Their eyes meet in the rain and before Aziraphale knows it, they’re both laughing and running towards the bookshop, hand in hand.

They still have a lot of things to talk about and figure out – too much has happened for them not to. Aziraphale wants to do this right, and he wants to do right by Crowley. He owes him that much. But in that moment, with Crowley next to him and looking as unburdened and at peace as he did before the Beginning, he can’t bring himself to worry about the future.

In that moment, he simply lives.

#crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #good omens spoilers #good omens #good omens 2 #good omens 2 spoilers

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stromuprisahat · 1 year

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Well, at least they’re realistic about the amount of people Alina “cares” about.

And what we should picture, whenever she says “Second Army” or “Grisha”...

#Shadow and Bone #02×07: Meet You in the Meadow #Alina Starkov #The Righteous Gang™#self centred and paranoid #grishanalyticritical #V #This isn't even a joke at this point.

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whumpily-ever-after · 1 year

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Whumpy Book List 2

Welcome to my second whumpy book list. This list has been a long time coming. I read a lot but most of the books I read recently had no whump in them. I finally feel like I have enough books to make this list!

I always welcome whumpy book recommendations and/or suggestions. Please feel free to send any whumpy books my way.

List below the cut...

Winter’s Orbit by Everina Maxwell

Summary: “While the Iskat Empire has long dominated the system through treaties and political alliances, several planets, including Thea, have begun to chafe under Iskat's rule. When tragedy befalls Imperial Prince Taam, his Thean widower, Jainan, is rushed into an arranged marriage with Taam's cousin, the disreputable Kiem, in a bid to keep the rising hostilities between the two worlds under control. But when it comes to light that Prince Taam's death may not have been an accident, and that Jainan himself may be a suspect, the unlikely pair must overcome their misgivings and learn to trust one another as they navigate the perils of the Iskat court, try to solve a murder, and prevent an interplanetary war... all while dealing with their growing feelings for each other.”

Whump tropes: Not the whumpiest book out there, but about half-way through there is a decent hypothermia scene, attempted brainwashing also occurs in the second half of the book

Legion: The Many Lives of Stephen Leeds by Brandon Sanderson

Summary: “Stephen Leeds is perfectly sane. It’s his hallucinations who are mad.

A genius of unrivaled aptitude, Stephen can learn any new skill, vocation, or art in a matter of hours. However, to contain all of this, his mind creates hallucinatory people—Stephen calls them aspects—to hold and manifest the information. Wherever he goes, he is joined by a team of imaginary experts to give advice, interpretstion, and explanation. He uses them to solve problems…for a price.

His brain is getting a little crowded and the aspects have a tendency of taking on lives of their own. When a company hires him to recover stolen property—a camera that can allegedly take pictures of the past—Stephen finds himself in an adventure crossing oceans and fighting terrorists. What he discovers may upend the foundation of three major world religions—and, perhaps, give him a vital clue into the true nature of his aspects.”

Note: This book consists of three (3) short stories about Stephen Leeds and the personalities in his head. I don’t remember all of the whump tropes in these stories, but I remember that the third story, “Lies of the Beholder,” had the most whump.

Whump tropes: From what I remember it includes being trapped in a facility and the main character’s “aspects” are forcibly (and possibly painfully) taken away from him.

Guardian by Priest

Summary: “The Special Investigations Unit is a covert organization that no-one in the city knows about, dedicated to investigating bizarre occurrences beyond the comprehension of the living. The Chief Zhao Yunlan isn’t a simple guy either, being the inheritor of the Guardian order, he has always been a righteous conformist, excelling between realms of the living and the dead. While investigating a school suicide case, Zhao is attracted to the calm and reserved Professor Shen Wei, but the Professor seems to be rather fickle towards him…”

Whump tropes: Angst, hurt/comfort, sick character, there is so much more, but I am drawing a blank at the moment

Note: I read a fan translation of this book on the interwebs but I believe it will be available for purchase (in the US) sometime this year.

A Strange and Stubborn Endurance (The Tithenai Chronicles #1) by Foz Meadows

Summary: “Velasin vin Aaro never planned to marry at all, let alone a girl from neighboring Tithena. When an ugly confrontation reveals his preference for men, Vel fears he’s ruined the diplomatic union before it can even begin. But while his family is ready to disown him, the Tithenai envoy has a different solution: for Vel to marry his former intended’s brother instead. Caethari Aeduria always knew he might end up in a political marriage, but his sudden betrothal to a man from Ralia, where such relationships are forbidden, comes as a shock. With an unknown faction willing to kill to end their new alliance, Vel and Cae have no choice but to trust each other. Survival is one thing, but love – as both will learn – is quite another.”

Whump tropes: Arrow wounds, magical exhaustion, betrayal, captured characters

Note: Heed the warnings for this book!

Rescued by the Married Monster Hunters by Ennis Rook Bashe

Summary: “Vessel is a monster living in a dimension-hopping dungeon where his only solace is mercy-killing human prisoners. When one of these prisoners leaves Vessel a diary about his life as a monster hunter, Vessel imagines a new future for himself and takes on a human identity in an attempt to survive. Rescued by married monster hunters, Rhys and Sera, Vessel quickly finds himself overwhelmed by his secret, by the demands of pretending to be human, and by the intensity of falling unexpectedly in love with the pair. But if Rhys and Sera find out the truth, Vessel knows heartbreak won’t be the worst thing he’ll face… This book features a trans character in a setting where being trans is no big deal, badass disabled monster hunters, an enormous gruff swordsman who would do anything for his adorable bard, a back brace that doubles as armor, and a soft bisexual eldritch abomination learning what love really is. Please note, this book contains discussions of assault, cissexism, body horror, and violence.”

Whump tropes: Chronic pain, torture, monster/nonhuman whump, conditioned Whumpee, hands-on magical healing

Note: I have not read this book myself but it looks to be plenty whumpy!

The Starless Crown by James Rollins

Summary: “A gifted student foretells an apocalypse. Her reward is a sentence of death.

Fleeing into the unknown she is drawn into a team of outcasts: A broken soldier, who once again takes up the weapons he’s forbidden to wield and carves a trail back home. A drunken prince, who steps out from his beloved brother’s shadow and claims a purpose of his own. An imprisoned thief, who escapes the crushing dark and discovers a gleaming artifact- one that will ignite a power struggle across the globe.

On the run, hunted by enemies old and new, they must learn to trust each other in order to survive in a world evolved in strange, beautiful, and deadly ways, and uncover ancient secrets that hold the key to their salvation. But with each passing moment, doom draws closer. Who will claim the starless crown?”

Whump tropes: Attempted kidnapping, trapped in a dark mine with no light while bound at the ankles, betrayal

Antrax by Terry Brooks

Summary: “Brave explorers led by the last Druid, Walker Boh, traveled across unknown seas in search of an elusive magic. But now it seems that Walker and his team were lured there for sinister, unforeseen purposes. As the crew aboard the airship Jerle Shannara is being attacked by evil forces, the Druid’s protégé, Bek Rowe, and his companions are being pursued by the mysterious Ilse Witch. Meanwhile, Walker is alone, caught in a dark maze beneath the ruined city of Castledown, stalked by a hungry, unseen enemy. It is alive, but not human, coveting the magic of Druids, elves, even the Ilse Witch. It hunts men for its own designs. It is Antrax: a spirit that feeds off enchantment and traps the souls of men. And with it, the fate of the Four Lands hangs in the balance.”

Whump tropes: Captivity, voice stolen, chased, dramatic rescue

Note: This is the second book in a series. But it has one of my most re-read whump scenes that I couldn't resist including it.

Note: The next two entries have teenage (minor) whumpees. If this is not your thing, stop reading here.

The Extraordinaries Series by T.J. Klune

Summary: "Nick Bell? Not extraordinary. But being the most popular fanfiction writer in the Extraordinaries fandom is a superpower, right? After a chance encounter with Shadow Star, Nova City’s mightiest hero (and Nick’s biggest crush), Nick sets out to make himself extraordinary. And he’ll do it with or without the reluctant help of Seth Gray, Nick’s best friend (and maybe the love of his life).”

Whump tropes: Kidnapping, emotional whump, betrayal

Fragile Remedy by Maria Ingrande Mora

Summary: “Sixteen-year-old Nate is a GEM – Genetically Engineered Medi-tissue created by the scientists of Gathos City as a cure for the elite from the fatal lung rot ravaging the population. As a child, he was smuggled out of the laboratory where he was held captive and into the Withers – a quarantined, lawless region. Nate manages to survive by using his engineering skills to become a Tinker, fixing broken tech in exchange for food or a safe place to sleep. When he meets Reed, a kind and fiercely protective boy that makes his heart race, and his misfit gang of scavengers, Nate finds the family he’s always longed for – even if he can’t risk telling them what he is.

But Gathos created a genetic failsafe in their GEMs – a flaw that causes their health to rapidly deteriorate as they age unless they are regularly dosed with medication controlled by Gathos City. As Nate’s health declines, his hard-won freedom is put in jeopardy. Violence erupts across the Withers, his illegal supply of medicine is cut off, and a vicious attack on Reed threatens to expose his secret. With time running out, Nate is left with only two options: work for a shadowy terrorist organization that has the means to keep him alive, or stay – and die – with the boy he loves.”

Whump tropes: I have not been able to get my hands on this book, so I don't know the exact tropes. But the summary makes it sound pretty whumpy.

#books #whump books #whumpy books #book list #whumpy book list

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