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wheeboo · 3 days

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to love and be loved | jeon wonwoo

SYNOPSIS. in which wonwoo tells you about his first (and only) love. PAIRING. jeon wonwoo x gn!reader GENRE. fluff, hurt/comfort, friends to lovers WARNINGS. self-doubt talk on reader's end, self-indulgent wooweee, this was painfully hard to write lmao n have no idea if any of this makes sense WORD COUNT. 1.6k

requested from anon: Hiiiiiiii first of all congratssss for you 2k. For the event, ive been thinking the same exact story with wonwoo and #6 from list 3 - #6: “You’re not hard to love, nor are you unlovable. You just… Need to let me in, and let me show you you’re just as worthy of love as anyone else is.”

notes: i'd quite literally do anything to have these kinds of talks with wonwoo ☹️☹️. anyway i hope u all enjoy this <3 hits close to home >< tysm anon hehe <3

join the 2k celebration!

"Hey, uh, Wonwoo?"

"Mhm?"

"...have you ever been in love?"

A cricket chirps into the evening air right after you ask, and you suddenly feeling like you're holding in a long-winded breath. Then you hear a loud crunch by Wonwoo from the crackers he was snacking on, and you blink up to him wiping away the corner of his mouth. There's the slightest glimpse of a curve to his lips that you manage to catch.

He silently offers you a cracker in your direction, the anticipating silence between the two of you growing thickly. You take the cracker from his hand, muttering a quiet thanks, before nibbling on it absentmindedly.

The night is absolutely beautiful right now, swearing that you could spot and make out the constellations above if you squinted hard enough. The distant chirping of crickets is the only sound that breaks the silence as the coolness of the night rolls in, carrying with it slight breeze that whispers through the leaves overhead the balcony of your apartment.

"I have."

You swiftly turn your head to him, eyes widening intriguingly. "You have?"

The chuckle that leaves him is somewhat awkward, a tad bit hesitant. He crumples up the bag of crackers and sets it aside, chugging down the last sips of his drink and setting down the empty can as well.

"Did you... ever confess to them?" You ask, suddenly feeling curious, though there's a bit of disappointment at the tip of your tongue.

You swear you could see the thoughts swirling around his head. Wonwoo keeps his eyes fixed up to the night sky. There's a distant look in his eyes, as though he's peering into some past moment that only he can see, before he shakes his head, a faint smile crossing over his lips.

"No, I didn't," he answers calmly. "They were too far away, so... I just chose to admire them at a distance."

You lean back against the wall behind, your shoulder momentarily brushing against his. "Did they know you?"

Wonwoo purses his lips together. "Mhm."

"Well, you missed your chance!" You exclaim, prodding him playfully with your elbow. "I can't believe you let them get away, dude. Like right through the little cracks of your fingers. You could've been in a relationship by now."

This earns you a low, playful scoff from Wonwoo. "Are you assuming that they loved me back?"

Immediately, you feel the heat crawl up your neck and to the tips your ears.

"Well, um... Yeah, I am," You admit sheepishly, letting out a small sigh. "I mean, who wouldn't fall for a guy like you? You're nice and... charming. I think anyone would be lucky to be loved by you."

There's a silence that falls between the two of you, one simply more than just comfortable yet denser than ever, because the thought of being loved by Wonwoo seems to linger longer than you notice. You steal a glance at him, seeing his face still turned upwards towards the night sky and the moonlight reflecting on his glasses. Strands of his dark hair blow across his forehead in the breeze. You can't quite decipher his expression, but a flicker of something𑁋perhaps surprise, maybe even amusement𑁋dances on his features for a brief moment.

He finally turns back to you, a small, hesitant smile playing on his lips. "You think so?"

"Yeah," You confirm, nodding lightly. "Absolutely."

Wonwoo still keeps his eyes on you as you glance away, seeing the way you fidget with your hands in your lap and smoothing out the creases in your pants nervously. He glances down at his own hand and back at yours, lips pursing together in contemplation, but only folds his fingers back together the second you reach over him to grab the crumpled-up bag of crackers. He feels a little bit too warm in his sweater right now.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

A crunch echoes through the air. Then another. And another.

"I've just been kinda... thinking a lot lately, I guess," You reply slowly, quietly. "And it sort of makes me sound desperate in a way, but there are times I just wonder if, um... if anyone has ever felt the same way about me."

Wonwoo tilts his head slightly. "Love?"

"Not just love, but... seeing me, you know?" Being able to talk about this out loud makes your chest feel heavy. "Since it's hard these days to find someone who sees you for who you are, not for who you can be. I... I just feel like I'm hard to love sometimes. Hell, maybe even unlovable. It’s hard to break out of that mindset when things get hard again.”

A thoughtful quietness seeps through the nighttime breeze, which sends goosebumps up and down your skin, but you don't mind it because you know that Wonwoo is listening either way. And the more you think about it𑁋the thought of knowing that he's here, with his presence is right next to you𑁋it seems to comfort you more than you notice.

There's a small hum of acknowledgement that you hear from his end, unsure if it's just your imagination or if he's actually responding as your mind feels a little jumbled up right now. But then Wonwoo shifts beside you, his arm lightly pressing against yours.

"But I... I think I've reached a point in time where I can say I love myself a little more than a few years ago, or last year, or even just yesterday," You continue to ramble a bit aimlessly, chuckling dryly to yourself. "It’d be nice to share that with someone too, you know? To finally get over this loneliness. But it's not entirely a sad loneliness or a happy one. It's, like, uh... both put together, I guess."

A few moments of silence pass. You feel Wonwoo gently nudge your leg with his.

"I'm proud of you."

You peer up to look at him, mind nearly going blank from the way he's gazing at you. Or maybe it's just the moonlight that's making him appear so... picturesque. "What for?"

"For loving yourself, silly," Wonwoo muses almost cheekily, and the delighted tone that you catch makes your stomach leap. "Even if it's just by a small percentage than yesterday, it's still okay. You're doing good. I want you to know that."

You're doing good. It's just those three singular words that has heat forming in your eyes that you somehow manage to blink back before anything could spill, and hearing it come from Wonwoo feels different. There's a vulnerable sweetness to them, a sincerity that catches you off-guard. You force a smile𑁋a grateful one, nonetheless𑁋before it shifts into a frown.

And Wonwoo catches it right away. "What's wrong?"

Your lips form a thin line, pressing together in thought. You refuse to acknowledge why you think your heart feels slightly... jealous.

"I hope whoever you loved before knows how lucky they are one day," You say to him. "if you're still in love with them, that is..."

Wonwoo stills for a minute, pensively. "I am."

"You are?"

"I never stopped."

You stare at him for a few moments, an eyebrow lifted in disbelief at him, before crossing your arms together and letting out a small, incredulous laugh. "Then you should've said that you're in love with them, idiot."

Wonwoo sucks in a breath.

"I'm in love with you."

You blink instinctively, once, twice, three times, momentarily thinking that Wonwoo's presence might somehow disappear into thin air. But he's still there𑁋a certain softness in the way he's looking at you, a gentleness that seems to wrap around you like a warm embrace𑁋waiting for you. His words suspend heavily in the air, and maybe the world is also holding its breath just as you are too.

"And... You're not hard to love, nor are you unlovable. You're far from that," Wonwoo continues, voice tender, fond, and soft as a lullaby. "You just... need to let me in, and let me show you you're just as worthy of love as anyone else is."

You could only sit merely frozen at this point, throat tightened and jaw dropped in shock among many other weird, fuzzy feelings happening throughout your body. Something between relief and disbelief. Hope and hesitancy. Comfort and uncertainty. You have the capacity to run yet you choose not to𑁋you're letting him in, letting the warmth of his words seep into the cracks of your doubt.

Your mind reels dizzily, almost like the world has been tilting away off-balance.

"You... You're in love with me?" You repeat, almost dumbly, because you cannot seem to fathom anything that's been said in the past few moments. "All that talk about earlier... about who you..."

Wonwoo hangs his head down low, rubbing at his neck in a bashful manner. "It was about you."

"And you never... you never told me?"

"Honestly, I'd like to think a part of it was you being a tad bit oblivious." And then he just simply grins, his nose crinkling along with it. "But that's okay. Watching you slowly figure yourself out made me realise that maybe I needed to find myself a little more too."

You open your mouth to say something, but nothing comes out, and you could feel the heat of embarrassment spreading painfully throughout your face. At first, you have the urge to brush it all away as a silly misunderstanding. Maybe laugh it off, retreat back inside, and go to sleep pretending all of this didn't happen. But the sincerity in his eyes stops you.

You lick your dry lips, the cool night air beginning to feel a lot less suffocating.

"Did you?" You ask vaguely, before shaking your head repeating, "Did you... find yourself?"

Wonwoo lets his eyes roam over you, taking you in, before leaning back on the wall and bringing his gaze back up toward the night sky. Your eyes refuse to leave him, and perhaps this is what it's like to admire someone from afar and close up all at once.

The two of you take a deep, deliberate exhale together.

"Yeah," he answers, smiling softly. "I think I found myself right where I want to be."

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caffeinewitchcraft · 2 days

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The Hero and Hope 4/5

Okaaaay, so there's 5 parts instead of 4! I realized that the last part was over 6k words, so we're splitting it into two! The last part will still be posted next Friday, so this will keep us on track!

Summary: The picnic has an uninvited guest that you're uniquely suited to greet.

-------

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

“Didn’t think I’d see anyone able to catch Marie,” the Lord says, brows raised. His golden eyes track Isla across the garden and he whistles when she jumps to tag his former knight. “That was not within the capabilities of a Villager.”

Ivan scans the crowd around them. Most of the townsfolk are too far away to eavesdrop and the ones close enough to potentially hear are engaged in their own conversations. “Careful, Brennan. If the Director hears you speculate…”

“Yes, the Director,” Lord Brennan sighs. He brings his teacup to his lips, but doesn’t drink. He contemplates Director Sarah where she crouches with a glass of water near Annie. “You know this is the first time we’ve met?”

It’d been a fight to get Sarah to agree to today at all. Ivan chooses his words carefully. “Your predecessor did not have the sort of…kind interest you do.”

The former Lord’s interest Sarah shared with them was a lot more horrifying. There’s a reason that Isla at only fifteen years old is the eldest at the orphanage.

“That’s one way to put it,” Lord Brennan agrees. He settles back into his seat and sighs in satisfaction. He watches the children gradually grow tired of their game and drift towards the dessert table. He grins when the townsfolk naturally make room for them, a few of them even fetching treats from the center of the table for the littler ones. “See my people together? It was very good of me to lure you and Marie to my territory.”

“You gave us a castle,” Ivan says. They weren’t so much lured as bludgeoned with generosity. Some days it feels like they blinked and ended up standing amongst fine silk and filigree.

“It’s a manor as far as paperwork goes,” Lord Brennan says.

“It has buttresses.”

“A very fortified manor.” Lord Brennan finally sips his tea and sighs again. “This tea is from our fields, isn’t it?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“It’s delicious.” The full canopies of the trees enveloping the estate rustle in the wind. The sun shines warmly overhead. Lord Brennan takes another drink. Delicious. “The land’s come a long way since we ousted my father, hasn’t it? Plentiful harvests, an established trade route, a new school. If it weren’t for the demons, my work would be done.”

“I would prefer you had no work then,” Ivan says dryly.

“Me too.” Lord Brennan sets his tea aside and rubs his eyes. “Any updates?”

“None,” Ivan admits, frustration leaking through his words. His face is still amiable and the disconnect between his tone and his visage is jarring. “We investigated the wolf tracks in the woods and only found carnage. No signs of the demons themselves.”

“So they are demons?”

“Regular wolves wouldn’t be able to evade a squadron of your knights, my lord.”

“Neither would demon wolves,” Lord Brennan says. He rubs his chin, brow furrowing. “I don’t like what that implies. Any sign of larger foes?”

Ivan doesn’t want to discuss this here. Marie’s eyes are on him, sensing his rising distress. He smiles and waves to her. “Besides the horned rabbit migration?”

“Is it a migration?”

“Isla saw five within the first four weeks of summer,” Ivan says.

The Lord’s attention falls on the teenager. She’s patiently letting one of the other children – Hera? The one who’d curtsied to him like a little noble – weave flowers into her braid. He tries to imagine her fighting a horned rabbit and his lips thin. “I’ll call for reinforcements from the capital.”

“Marie and I can—”

Lord Brennan waves Ivan off. “No, no, I’ve asked too much of you already. Aren’t the two of you too busy in your retirement already? I thought you’d be settled with a child by now.”

“It’s not good to rush these things,” Ivan says as he has the last three times Lord Brennan has asked. This time it’s Ivan who sighs. “It took Marie and I a good few months to win Director Sarah over after our misstep.”

“Asking about Destinies, was it?”

“Implying we’d value any child less for not being a knight like us,” Ivan corrects.

“There seem to be a lot of unusual Destinies in the orphanage,” Lord Brennan says. He’s not an Identifier but he’s got a good eye. Though no one can know for sure until a child either develops their mark or comes into their power at fifteen, he’s seen more than a few signs of a Scholar, a Guardian, and a Teacher. Once again he finds his gaze being drawn back to Isla. She’s got a child under each arm and is running from Marie again, the game having resumed after their snack break. “That one is a Guard, at least. Nobody else would have physical abilities like that.”

Ivan ignores the Lord’s comment. “It’s been worthwhile getting to know them all.” His smile turns a little more genuine. “They’re all good kids.”

“Surely you and Marie have an inkling of who’ll be a good fit?” When Ivan doesn’t reply, the Lord clicks his tongue. “You can’t choose all of them.”

Ivan’s voice is a study in nonchalance. “Can’t we?”

Lord Brennan opens his mouth only for no words to come out. At length, he has to laugh. His knights do like to keep busy. “You’d need a castle.”

“You did give us one, my lord.”

“I suppose I did.”

The two men lapse into a pleasant silence. It is good to see the townsfolk this cheerful. This town is the furthest from Lord Brennan’s own castle and he rarely has a chance to visit. The first time he had had been very different. The people still bore the wounds of winter in gouged cheeks and brittle smiles. Now he sees the glow of health everywhere he looks.

He contemplates the Director once again. She’d been the only one back then to not seem pleased to see him ride in on his white horse. Even now he can feel the chill of her scrutiny as she stood defensively between him and the orphanage. None of that chill is present today. Her smile is as sweet as his tea while she tends to a scrape the little Scholar sustained in this round of tag. “Ms. Sarah is very pretty, isn’t she?”

“I know we can’t adopt them all,” Ivan blurts out. He doesn’t seem to have heard Lord Brennan. His gaze is turned towards his own inner conflict which is why he also doesn’t notice the blush dusting the Lord’s cheeks. “It wouldn’t be fair to them. Marie and I decided to adopt a child who would benefit from what little we can offer. Military arts and luck.”

“I don’t think you’re being fair,” Lord Brennan says with raised brows. “You and Marie offer a lot more than a Knight’s experience. Haven’t you shown that already in your actions?” He’s not aware of everything his former knights have done, but he’s heard plenty from the children today. He didn’t think Marie had the patience to teach anyone how to read.

Ivan’s hands fist. “It’s not enough, it’s not—the little boy. Josiah. He’s so smart. I don’t even know where to start with him and even Marie says that he’ll soon outpace her—”

“Well,” Lord Brennan says, “Neither of you are Teachers, true, but there is a school for that--”

“And Annie wants to know why bread rises and why the sun sets and how many seconds are in a day—”

“All kids are curious—”

“Hera staged a whole theater production for my birthday and all we could do was clap—”

Is he missing something? “Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“We don’t know any actors or directors to introduce her to!” Ivan cries out. He quickly lowers his voice, but can’t hide the stress around his eyes. “What could we give to a child like her? Like any of them? Marie and I are out of our depth. It would be so much simpler if one was a Knight!”

The Lord tentatively offers, “If Isla’s a Guard--?”

Ivan gives a cry of distress that he barely capture in the palm of his hand. “Isla! That girl feels like my daughter already, but…she’s been through so much. She doesn’t need a father who teaches her how to fight or a mother who teaches her how to withstand a siege! She deserves to never have to fight again. What could we offer her? What could we possibly give to her she hasn’t already learned on her own?”

A light goes on in the Lord’s head. He takes in the festivities with new eyes. The town’s Baker, Blacksmith, Teacher… His friends have invited every possible parent they could in hopes of providing for the children in ways they felt incapable of doing themselves. As noble as that was…“Ivan, being a parent goes beyond the skills you can give a child. It’s more than fostering talent or an offering an apprenticeship. It’s—”

A horse’s scream drowns out the Lord’s next words.

Ivan is in front of Lord Brennan with his sword drawn before the horses and their blood-splattered riders even round the side of the castle.

-----.

You throw Annie and Josiah behind you the moment you hear the sound of hooves galloping towards the manor.

“Isla, what—” Josiah starts to ask and then cuts himself off as the innkeepers and their entourage burst into the party.

You smell blood before your eyes register the terrible red staining their fine clothing.

“ORCS!” Mr. Innkeeper screams over the frightened snorts of his horse. He stumbles down from his mount and staggers towards the Lord. “They overtook our carriage—please, my wife, she’s hurt—”

Mrs. Inkeeper is holding her side and seemingly barely holding onto the saddle horn. “Our guards won’t be enough to hold them off—”

“Inside,” Sarah hisses into your ear. She points after Hera who’s already shepherding the younger kids into the building. “Now.”

“—an army—”

“—fast—”

“—waiting for us—”

You move faster than you’ve allowed yourself since you arrived. This is no time to take care in hiding your abilities; there are roars coming from the forest unlike anything you’ve ever heard before. Your senses seem to dial up with your heartrate and you can hear the clash of steel against rock and flesh. You scoop Annie into your arms and leap after Josiah and Sarah.

Mr. Dallen’s face is pale as he ushers you all into the manor. He holds the door open for the townsfolk. The hall fills with the sounds of panic and sobs as fear washes through you like a tidal wave. There have never been orcs south of the mountains, there have never been demons bigger than a horned rabbit in the last twenty years, even when the Winter froze the river—

Mr. Dallen waves down Marie as she sprints to the large doorway. You think that he’s going to pull her inside to safety, but instead he thrusts her bow into her outstretched hands.

“Do not open these doors,” she commands. Behind her the knights are assembling into a formation, their Lord at the center. Ivan stands before them all, barking orders to ready their spears as the trees in front of them begin to sway. Marie pulls a dagger from under her skirts and slices the bottom half of her dress clean off. She kicks it away from her feet as she talks. “Take everyone to the basement—”

“Ma’am, the escape tunnel still isn’t cleared of debris—”

Marie swears so violently that half the townsfolk gasp. She grabs Mr. Dallen by the shoulder, her eyes flicking back and forth between him and her husband. “Then we will draw them away. The moment you think you can, run to the wagon. Get the children to—” She bites her lip. You can see the devastating truth flash through her mind. There isn’t anywhere to go. “Damnit. Bar the door and arm everyone you can.”

Mr. Dallen’s lips are bloodless as he nods. “My lady.”

Marie turns to everyone. Her voice is unlike anything you’ve heard come from her lips; it’s harsh and barking. A commander giving orders much like Ivan is doing outside. “Listen, everyone. We are in danger. Our best estimate is that 25 orcs are marching on the manor. There is no guarantee of survival. The moment this door is breached, it will mean the knights have failed. You must be prepared to fight. Do you understand?”

Twenty-five? Your hands ball into fists and your breath catches in your throat. You’ve heard of entire villages being wiped out by three.

“Then we’ll fight with the knights,” the Baker says. He pushes away from the center of the group and marches to the wall. He pulls down the crossed axes, keeps one, tosses the other to the Blacksmith. She catches it easily. “You’ll need everyone who can hold a weapon.”

Marie never voices her protest. You can see the strain of holding it back in her tense shoulders and her poignant silence. At long last, she nods. “You’re right. Stay behind the knights. They know how to handle the frontline better than you.”

There’s a flurry after that. The townsfolk divide in half. Those unable to fight slide back as those who can start scavenging for weapons. Mr. Dallen grimly pulls two long daggers from under his coat while pointing your neighbors to decorative swords, to ornamental spears, to the heavy coatrack just inside the parlor.

Grimly, you stride past Sarah, ignoring her hiss and darting hands. You can leave the weapons to the villagers, there’s a large knife on the dessert table you can use—

Marie slams a hand against your chest. You stagger back at the weight of the blow, breath knocked from your lungs. You’re more stunned than hurt as you gape at her.

“Children stay here,” Marie says. Her eyes narrow. “No exceptions.”

“But I’m—”

“We don’t have time to argue!” She pushes you further back, clearing the doorway for the armed villagers to run outside towards the knights. “You’re strong Isla, but this isn’t your fight. Stay here. Guard the door.”

The winter wind howls in your mind. You splutter. “But I—”

Marie spins away from you. “Director Sarah.”

Sarah’s arms slide around your shoulders. “Yes, lady.”

The closing of the door feels like a blow in itself. You stare sightlessly at the unyielding wood as your emotions rage. How could she? You’re strong, you can do more, you can help, you’re the one who kept everyone from starving—

“We need to barricade the windows,” Director Sarah is saying to the townsfolk. Half of them gaze at her uncomprehendingly. Her hands slide from your shoulders slowly, as if testing that you aren’t going to leap outside. When you don’t move, she lets go entirely. “Isla, move the furniture. Hera and Josiah, find something to tie it down with.”

You move on autopilot. There are other hands alongside yours as you push the sofa and armchairs in front of the windows, the townsfolk coming together to defend the manor. Hera darts between you all and pulls the curtains closed, reclaiming the curtain ties to use as rope. She’s got a grim determination in her eyes that looks uncomfortably familiar.

Your attention is on the noise outside. The orcs are slow, but loud. The roars change to squeals and bellows of challenge. Branches break and there’s a terrifying, splintering crash as a tree falls. Metal rings as the knights raise their shields. You can see it all in your mind’s eye, the knights in a defensive line across the length of the garden, the Lord securely in their center. Ivan is shouting about this being what they’ve trained for, that there are more of them than there are orcs, that this city won’t fall—

And the Lord is speaking too, quickly and quietly to Marie. The escape tunnel? Damnit, I should have sent more men—

It will be fine, Marie says. Her bow sings as she holds it ready and you know the way her muscles flex and her eyes narrow from experience. We won’t let a single one of those monsters past us. We won’t--

The knights bellow alongside the orcs. Your heart leaps and your focus is jarred. You’re standing in front of the door again, your hands balled at your sides. Everyone can hear the battle now and the townsfolk scream when the orcs’ battle cries shake the manor.

“Quiet!” Is that your voice? It is. Your eyes slide to the frightened faces behind you. “You’ll distract the knights.”

Sarah steps up alongside you. “And let the orcs know exactly where we are.”

The villagers quiet into aborted whimpers and muffled sobs.

The battle rages, louder and louder. Are orcs big? They sound big. When you close your eyes you can hear the way their feet pummel the earth. Do they have weapons? Metal clashes. A knight screams that their hides are too thick. The Lord shouts back to aim for their eyes. A table splinters, a bow sings, there’s a liquid gasp—

BOOM!

You slam your hands against the door, muscles straining as another blow lands against it. The wood convulses under your hands and the lock creaks. The villagers scream.

“No,” someone whispers. “No, they found us.”

You’re eight and the snow spirits are howling for blood. Your shoulders ache with the effort to hold the door against the wind. The cold is biting at your fingertips and there is an old hope dying in your chest--

Small hands slam against the door next to yours. Hera is snarling and swearing, Josiah is crying. Sarah is telling the kids not to worry, Isla and Hera and Josiah won’t let them in –

They’re here. You’re not alone.

“GET AWAY FROM THERE!”

The orc’s bellow isn’t nearly as loud as Ivan’s roar.

The blow you’re bracing for never comes. Ivan goads the orc to follow him, to leave the manor alone, to eat the man readily available to him—

It does not sound like the knights are winning now.

“My Lord!” Marie’s voice is strained.

“Do not fall back, they’ll corner us—”

“Who is that? Who is—”

The crack under the door lights with a sickly purple. The smell of ozone seeps into the manor. For a moment there is a silence so complete you think you’ve been struck. What was that? Magic? You’ve never seen magic before--

Screams rocket across the field. The Blacksmith’s screams. The Baker’s screams. Marie’s rage-filled howls.

“DEMON KING!”

Your Destiny burns.

---.

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3)

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Thanks for reading! If you'd like read the last part of Isla a week early, please consider supporting me on Patreon(X)!

#my writing #the hero and hope #fantasy writing #writeblr

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thatacotargirl · 2 days

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Hiiiii I love your writing!! May I request Azriel x Reader, where reader gets amnesia. She’s Illyrian and was hurt by Illyrian men, so she’s scared of Az because she doesn’t remember him. Then wonderful angst because he never thought she’d be afraid of him, so he avoids her and is heartbroken. Then something happens, maybe he’s forced to interact with her or he says something specific, and her memories come back, so happy ending! Feel free to ignore if you don’t want to write this, thank you!💙

Hi lovely! Thank you so much for reading my work and for your request! I hope you like the story! 💙

Divider is once again from @tsunami-of-tears, eternally grateful to you for your creativity!

Dazelroot Daze

An Azriel x Reader imagine

Warnings: angst, poisoning, swearing, allusions to abuse / previous SA.

"Rhys, I am not cut out for this kind of mission - why did you not send Nesta!"

You huff to yourself as you climb the uneven stairs through the prison, following closely behind Rhys. You hated coming in here, and hated having to interact with the Bone Carver even more. You patted your back pocket, checking your gifted bone for him was still there, before climbing yet another stairwell.

"Y/n, you know I wouldn't have asked if it wasn't necessary. I can't exactly send Nesta in here even if she's only early in her pregnancy, they would sense it a mile off and she'd be a target. Not to mention, I don't fancy getting pummelled by Cassian for letting his pregnant mate in here".

You knew he was right, but it didn't make this any easier. You struggled through another narrow doorframe, trying to avoid smacking your wings against the wood, and stood in front of a metal gate. You hear Rhys hum to himself.

"What's wrong?".

"I've never seen a gate here before, this should be an open walkway".

You begin to feel uneasy as you see Rhys take a step back.

"Rhys?"

Before you can get another word out, you feel a powder cover your face, filling your nose and mouth, causing you to choke. You try to call out for help, but you can't get anything out, breathing becoming harder and harder. You hear Rhys distantly calling your name but you can't respond, can't move, all you can do is drop to the floor, your legs giving out from underneath you.

"Get Madja, now!"

Rhys' voice bellowed through the River House as he winnowed in carrying your lifeless body and placed your down on the living room sofa. The rest of the Inner Circle descended on the pair of you, including Azriel. When he saw your pale body, arm hanging off the sofa, his heart sank. He grabbed Rhys by the collar.

"What the fuck happened?"

Rhys didn't have time to answer before Madja appeared in the room, pushing everyone to the side and leaning over your body. Silence descended on the room as she ran tests, took bloods, checked your vitals - all the while your eyes remained closed and your body limp.

"She has been poisoned with a plant known as Dazelroot. It is highly toxic and can only be found in some very remote parts of the Spring Court. Thankfully, it looks like this particular strain was either incorrectly handled or extremely dried out, as it hasn't taken hold quite as potently as it should have. She will be ok, in that she will live, but we won't know the consequences until she wakes up".

"The consequences?", Feyre asks.

"I have never seen a person be poisoned with Dazelroot and live to tell the tale. We won't know what it will do to her until she wakes".

Feyre sobbed silently, her shoulders shaking. Nesta joined her, the sisters holding each other through their sadness. Cassian could only watch in horror as Azriel fell to his knees next to your body and cried into your shoulder.

"Madja, what can we do?", Rhys asks, wringing his hands.

"There's nothing, Rhys. We have to let her wake, and see what happens next. I'll be on hand, as will my assistants. Call us as soon as she wakes up".

Rhys shook Madja's hand and allowed her to leave, his grief weighing down on his shoulders heavily. It was his fault that you were in the prison, that he hadn't seen the trap beforehand, that you were the one to be poisoned. He tried to reach for Azriel, but Azriel swatted his hand away.

"Don't touch me", he gritted, his face still buried in your shoulder.

Rhys could do nothing but watch as his family fell apart in front of him.

It took 6 days for you to wake. 6 agonising days of your family watching your chest rise and fall, terrified that you would never again open your eyes. But you did.

Your eyes opened, and fell on Feyre's face.

"SHE'S AWAKE", Feyre called to your family, reaching out for your hand. You let her take it, but she couldn't overlook the confusion she saw in your eyes, the hesitancy of your body to let her touch you.

The room filled with your family and your eyes settled on a pair of Illyrian wings. Male Illyrian wings. Trauma racked through your body, memories of your life at the Illyrian camps, wing-clipping, assault, and you couldn't hold back your scream as you pulled your body up the bed, as close as you could get to the headboard.

"Y/n?", Azriel said gently, attempting to approach you. He froze when he realised it was him that you were trying to get away from.

Madja burst through the door at that moment, having been summoned by Rhys the moment he heard Feyre's shouts. She saw the blankness in your eyes the second she looked at you, and her eyes fell pityingly to Azriel.

"Hi y/n, I'm Madja, a healer here in the Night Court".

Your family looked at each other in pure confusion. You knew who Madja was. She'd been the family's healer for centuries. Why was she acting like you'd never met before?

Madja carried out her assessment before providing you a sleeping tonic. Once your body settled back into the pillows, looking more at peace than you had when you had woken up, she turned to Rhys.

"The Dazelroot has caused amnesia. She doesn't remember anything after her life after the Illyrian camps".

Rhys shook his head. "Ok, but when will her memory come back?".

Rhys saw the look on Madja's face and his stomach somersaulted.

"Will her memory come back?"

Madja placed a hand gentle on his shoulder.

"I'm sorry Rhys, there's no way to know".

She turned to Azriel, tears falling down his cheeks. He had realised that you had forgotten him, forgotten your mateship, the love you had shared for centuries. You only remembered the trauma you had faced at the hands of Illyrian males, males that bore the same wings as him. He had realised, seeing the look on your face, that you were afraid of him.

"You can try to offer her gentle reminders. It might break through the amnesia cloud. But there's nothing more we can do".

Madja departed, leaving your family to process the news. You didn't remember any of them.

17 months later

It had been 17 months since the incident, and your memory hadn't come back.

Feyre, Nesta, Elain and Mor had made it their mission to rebuild the friendship that you had had with them - regularly taking you out for brunch, shopping, and nights out at Rita's. Over time, you developed a new bond with them, and had started to trust them.

You had also re-kindled your friendship with Rhys and Lucien, the males giving you distance but engaging with you as often as possible, mostly through Feyre and Elain.

But Azriel and Cassian, you couldn't be near. Their wings reminded you too much of the trauma you had faced in the camps. Reminded you that your own wings had been clipped. Reminded you of the males that had used you for their own entertainment. Anytime they tried to approach you, their wings pinned as tightly as possible behind their backs, your body began to involuntarily shake and your eyes would fill with tears.

It had broken Azriel. He had become a shell of the former male he was. He started to withdraw from family dinners, he gave up his morning training. Azriel had slowly started to descend into a downward spiral, feeling the mating bond cold on the other end. His family had tried their best to help, but Azriel wanted for nothing but you. He locked himself in his bedroom most days and nights, seeking solitude in the shadows.

That was why, when his family decided to visit Sevenda's restaurant that evening, Azriel had ignored the inviting knock on his door. He didn't want to make it harder for you seeing him sitting at the other end of the table. He waited for the footsteps to pad away before grabbing a bottle of Whiskey from the shelf and pouring himself a generous glass.

Several hours later, Azriel was sat in bed with his book when he heard commotion. It sounded like crying, but it was pained. He sat up, listening out, when he heard it again - this time closer to his door. He thought everyone was out at Sevenda's, or maybe Rita's now, but there was unmistakably someone wandering through the hallway.

Azriel cracked open his door and peered out. At the end of the hallway, gripping the window pane, he saw your small frame huddled over. The scent of blood filled the air. Azriel panicked. He knew how bad your cycles were from the centuries you had spent together, that you needed help desperately, but right now he was the only one in the house with you, and you were terrified of him.

"Y/n?", he called out gently, trying not to startle you with his presence. He watched you turn slowly, your eyes wide in alarm.

"It's ok, it's just your cycle", he whispered, raising his arms to show you that he was not going to hurt you. You whimpered slightly, clutching the window pane so hard your knuckles had gone white.

"Can I help you?", he asked, not daring to move. You looked at him, his wings, your body shaking. But you knew you were helpless, not sure you could get yourself back to your bed even if you tried with all your might. So, you took a deep breath, and gave him a timid nod.

Azriel walked slowly towards you, his hands in front of him, and when he reached you he carefully put a hand forward to touch your shoulder. You shuddered, but didn't pull away.

"I'm going to take you back to your room, ok?". You could only nod as Azriel scooped you into his arms and walked you slowly back towards your room.

He placed you down carefully at your dressing table and silently walked into your bathroom, the sound of running water filling the room. Whilst the bath ran, you watched him strip the soiled sheets from your bed and replace them with fresh ones, putting a pair of your pyjamas neatly folded at the end. He then offered you his hand and guided you to the bathroom.

"Do you need some help?".

You didn't want to admit it, but you did. You could barely stand up under your own weight.

Azriel turned away from you to allow you to undress, holding a hand behind his back for guidance as you carefully lowered yourself into the bath. Once you were in, and hidden under the bubbles, you turned to look at him. At his wings. You had never known an Illyrian male to be so gentle. So calming. Even sat here alone in a bath with him in the room, you felt comfortable. You felt safe.

"Azriel?", you whispered.

"Would you like me to leave you be?" he asked, his back still turned to give you privacy.

"No".

You saw Azriel's shoulders sag slightly with relief, but he still kept his back to you.

"Please could you pass me that bottle over there, the green one?"

Azriel walked over to the counter to pick up the shampoo bottle and attempted to hand it to you behind his back, still not facing you. You giggled as he offered the bottle out to the empty end of the bath.

"It's ok, I'm hidden in the bubbles".

Azriel turned, his eyes not leaving your face, as he handed the bottle to you. You took it, pouring some into your hand, and he watched you wince as you raised your arms above your body to your hair, stretching your stomach.

"May I?", he asked quietly. You nodded, handing the bottle to him. Azriel knelt down behind your head, pouring the shampoo into his hands and massaging it into your hair. The moment his hands touched you, you felt a calming peace descend over you, and you closed your eyes to bask in it. You were about to ask him to rub it into the nape of your neck, your favourite place, when you felt his hands move there instinctively. A jolt went through your body, and Azriel jumped backwards.

"Are you ok?"

You turned to face him, his leathers covered in water, bubbles and shampoo suds, and looked down at his scarred hands. Visions flew through your mind of his hands in your hair, his hands offering to feed you grapes on your honeymoon to the Summer Court, his hands touching your body, his hands placing a ring on yours at your mating ceremony, his hands holding out your cup of coffee to you every morning - black, just how you liked it.

You reached out to take them, feeling every emotion come flooding back to you. A tug at your chest made you look up, as Azriel's filled with tears.

"My mate", you whispered.

"My mate", he replied, his head moving to rest on your forehead.

You held each other, the bath water turning cold and the bubbles melting away, allowing all your love and devotion to flow to each other through the bond. Forgotten, but never gone.

#a court of silver flames #a court of wings and ruin #a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #acotar fanfiction #acotar #acotar x reader #acotar x y/n #a court of frost and starlight #azriel x reader #acotar imagine #acotar oneshot #azriel x y/n #azriel shadowsinger #acotar azriel #azriel shadowsinger x reader

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galene-gothic · 14 hours

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𝖨𝖿 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝖾

୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ Hi snowies, I’m back !! I hope this reading found you in good health, every reblog is appreciated and thank you for everything :) ˖♡ ˎˊ˗ ꒰ 🐇 ꒱

˗ˏˋ༻ʚ♡︎ɞ༺ˎˊ˗ PAID SERVICES (summer sale and offers)

︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 1 ꒱

꒰ Why do/would people love you for you ? ꒱

You’re a very “all or nothing” kind of a person. The way you are and live also have something youthful and innocent about them. You don’t let the world taint you and stray you away from who it is that you truly are. The dreams and values that you had as a child still exist within you, you also haven’t let the passion for life that you had as a child die down. The way that you carry yourself, the things that you say and do, you are so refined and elegant with it. Despite, your youthfulness and passionate personality, you’re very wise, mature, elegant and self reliant. You’re someone who people literally cannot take their eyes away from. There’s just a charisma and aura that radiates off of you that makes people think that you’re too good to be true, it also makes their hearts race, cheeks flush and breaths freeze. You’re naturally a grateful and abundant person who seems to have it all even if you don’t due to your ability to keep your heart content. You also don’t seem to need people and when you do love someone, it’s because it’s a choice. You have a fire in your heart and it warms even those around you. Despite your fiery and passionate personality, you’re also grounded and intelligent. You know how to strategise and have your way in life but you don’t seem to use it for ill motives. You get away with things a lot, people wonder how you seem to do so. You’re witty, know just what to say and are a crazy risk taker. I’m pretty sure at some point, you’ve done things for the plot but it was still fueled by genuine passion and excitement. I feel like this pile is likely to have a high libido. The high sex drive could be saved up for your partner (or someone who deserves you) due to how much you seem to prioritise yourself. You’re quite strategic with how much you tell others and how close you let them get to you but it might be so natural to you that you’ve never even really thought about it. It’s a good trait though, don’t worry. You’re seductive in more ways than one - the one who seems to have it all, the one is grounded yet exciting, the one who is passionate yet realistic, the one who is loving yet strategic about who you let close to yourself, so on and so forth. How could someone not love you? Those who you get vulnerable around and those who you have talked to about your childhood or early life trauma with seem to love you a lot. They know just how pure hearted you are despite going through all that and they can’t help but love you.

You approach those who you let into your heart and life in a very childlike fashion. You aren’t immature but you forget about staying cautious, you choose to just love them wholly and purely, like a child, willing to forgive and understand. With the way you love, it’s good that you’re careful with who you choose to truly love. You’re quite independent and know how to keep yourself content but still have a genuine and strong desire to give out and receive love, to share your life with your people. I’m tearing up, this reading might not seem that deep to you but as the reader who feels energies, this is really touching. You’re still very emotionally driven despite having grown up and experienced your own fair share of sad moments. You are the type that people would fall in love with every single day. There are also times when you gain an interest that you get hyper fixated on which is very cute for others to witness. The way you talk with that spark in your eyes, people love it, they hold you so dear. You’re really charming and have your way with words. Half hearted loving doesn’t make sense to you. You might be one of those people who don’t understand the concept of “you can find other people attractive while you are in a relationship because it’s fine as long as you don’t act on it” because you’re fiercely loyal and devotional on a soul level (same mate same). You have a big aura, integrity and heart xD. You might also know how to be physically affectionate (at least with those you hold close to you). You’re self confident and funny. There are times when you get angry or sulky but it’s in a playful and childlike way, and it’s really cute xD. You carry a lot of lessons within you and are a really fair person. Due to how much integrity you possess, you’re accepting of when you did something shitty. You’re like “well, what I did was in fact wrong.” You understand how cause and effect work so when you do something and have to deal with the consequences, you usually do pretty well. I genuinely feel like this pile has had to be hurt again and again to let go of someone or maybe even multiple people though. You have likely learned your lesson though. Due to this, you don’t blow people’s mistakes out of proportion unless they outright betray you, it also makes you accepting of others flaws and shortcomings. You know how to look at things objectively and treat people well despite their mistakes. However, due to your strong sense of integrity, there is still a line to that. I hope that you enjoyed the reading, much love and take care, until next time 🫶🏻.

︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 2 ꒱

꒰ Why do/would people love you for you ? ꒱

You have an ability to feel content regardless of the circumstances of your life is something that makes you incredibly beautiful. You’re someone who self reflects and tries to change your ways when change is needed. You do not jump into attacking someone when they try to talk about how your actions affected them. You’re self aware and your focus is on yourself instead of hating on other people. You have gratitude for what you already have instead of choosing to stay in an energy of lack over what you do not have. You are deeply reflective and are able to accept yourself, others and situations as they are. You understand your responsibilities and see the positive aspects of negative situations while trying to make things better. You’re focused on your emotional growth and try to leave the past behind you. You have integrity and self respect, you understand that by staying stuck on past people or situations, you will be denying yourself the love and life that you deserve in the present and future for love and life that aren’t even there anymore. You give yourself another chance at life, you give yourself another chance to love and not only that, you give people the chance to create a space in your life and heart. You aren’t the type of person to be like “you never get over your first love” because you understand how disrespectful it is to your future partner(s) and also to yourself because when you say things like that, you’re suggesting that a person who has already left your life is unforgettable while the person who is currently loving you and is sticking with you cannot live up to your ‘first love’. You have a zest for life and try to seize opportunities. You often forget just how beautiful you really are. You tend to feel insecure and inadequate at times but you somehow still have a superiority complex. You don’t mind rebelling for a cause and you probably have something that you always go back to (not a person) but something like a calling, a certain lifestyle that just calls to you. You can be really brutal if things come down to it, please never don’t forget your power. You also have strong morals and ethics. You’re someone who carries yourself with integrity and respects those around you. There’s something that seems extremely sharp and cunning about you.

You’re someone who’s able to remain impartial and are the type to be like “that sounds like a you problem” to your own friends when they say that they want honest advice from you. You often have control over your emotions and have a cold aura but despite this, you know how to love people through actions. There’s something about you saying things in a very cool and genuine manner as well even though it might come off blunt, it’s still polite. You’re someone who doesn’t accept unreasonableness in any form. You have a moral code and ethics that you’re choosing to live by. There’s also something very detached and passive about you, as if you’re not there. You’re someone who introduces others to different perspectives because you literally get downloads. You might be sitting there, slurping your noodles but suddenly have an epiphany which helps you connect dots from the past and live life better in the future. You just seem so wise and also have great discernment. You’re someone who goes “she likes him” simply by hearing about the way ‘she’ was acting towards or talks about him and it turns out to be true. You’ve had to sacrifice a lot in order to get to this point. At this point, most things that scare you thrill you even more. People often don’t understand why you do the things that you do but somehow, that’s exactly what works out for you. Also, you have the ability to leave things as they are. At this point, you’re not someone who is trying to complete chapters, give out, receive closures, etc. anymore. There are times when you pause to do something and people think that you’re directionless but you pop out with success, like a whole new lifestyle. People undermine you while still being so threatened by you, I truly don’t know how to describe this energy. There’s something odd and special about you. It’s like, you have a different level of consciousness which allows you to be ahead of your time. There are times when people think that you’re insecure, directionless or go out of their way to make you feel lower just for you to develop a different life and identity for yourself after collapsing. You might have been attracted to the first pile. I hope that you enjoyed the reading, much love and take care, until next time 🫶🏻.

︎︎⊹ ! 🪡︎ Pile 3 ꒱

꒰ Why do/would people love you for you ? ꒱

You’re very in touch with your shadow aspects which also allows you to not often point your fingers at others and that is a very beautiful quality to have. You’ve had to deal with a lot of shame. In fact, you might still be dealing with it. You’re someone who confronts your fears in order to grow. You also encourage others to do the same. You have the ability to connect deeply to people and things which can be good or bad depending on how extreme it gets. You’ve had major breakthroughs and your life experiences seem to be a source of change. You experience major growth and change ever so often. You’re either enslaved to the demons in your mind (unnecessary shame, guilt, etc.) or you were but now, you’re freeing yourself or have already managed to do so. Despite, all the betrayal that you’ve faced, all the illusions that trapped you, all the negative thoughts and feelings, you have made empowering progress emotionally and mentally. Even, you yourself have made many mistakes and have done immoral things but you’ve learned. You’re extremely passionate and ambitious. You also know how to make a stable environment for those who you love. You have a grounded, realistic and practical way of loving others. You feel the need to take the responsibility for everything and everyone. You’ve dealt with a lot of negative things and attachments disguised as positive ones, you’ve learnt and grown from them. A lot of your relationships have proved to be false which is saddening. However, the lessons that you’ve learned from them are tangible and invaluable to you. You’ve made a lot of poor choices, felt trapped, dealt with the consequences of your actions and have had major reality checks. You’ve had a lot of humbling experiences in your life (or one major one) and you’ve dealt with it pretty well. I’m being called out to tell you that you NEED to have a purpose in your life, no matter how little it might be, don’t procrastinate, don’t be overly realistic but don’t be unrealistic and a daydreamer with no action either. Your life has led you to a point where you’re not desperate anymore, you’re not easily fooled in terms of emotions.

You learn from past failures and continue persisting and moving forward to do and become better. You are resilient and are emotionally intelligent and rich due to the experiences that you’ve had so far. Your life, though chaotic seems to have been really eventful. You influence others due to this, you’ve developed a profound depth and have lived as so many different people. You’ve done many people dirty and you’ve had many people do you dirty as well, due to how many different identities, you’ve taken on, people think that change, growth and acceptance is possible for them as well. People learn from you and explore their own emotional depth. You often feel like people don’t deserve you due to your depth (you choose not to think that way because you’re quite loving) and feel like they don’t understand you at the level of depth that you understand them. You have a focused nature and certain values that can be considered sort of conservative while still you being an open minded person? You carry yourself in a humble yet expensive manner. You’re also quite confident. You’re consistently if not constantly changing and evolving. You seem to be indifferent to the changes that happen around and within you, as if they came easily to you while still being authentic enough to seem as though you had to grow into those changes. Due to how humble you are, how playful you can be and times when you act like they’re better than you? I’m not sure what it is, possibly people pleasing? There are times when people think that you don’t finish what you started, you are dumb, boring, obsessed with shallow things, etc. That you’re a daydreamer who spends more time contemplating than actually doing. That is far from the truth, first of all, you have strong integrity and are really headstrong. You are self confident and can be quite ruthless when the need be there, not just ruthless on other people but also on yourself. You look at the bigger picture and have trustworthy judgements which make you an excellent entrepreneur. You can focus and persevere, and these are all things that they see once you stop being humble and choose to not give them your time of the day 😻.

You also have the ability to be a bit hardcore. When you work, you work too hard and when you play, you play too hard xD. Also, your ability to become apathetic or atleast act like it? The way you’re able to not let your work get too much for you sometimes and know how to have fun without a care in the world while still managing to complete your duties is enviable. You also have it in you to take a lot of responsibility, definitely an admirable quality. Also, you are good at saying no, learning how to do so or seem like you are able to say it quite easily. You’re also able to express enthusiasm, excitement and joy in a very grand manner without caring about what others think. You have movements that are quite slow naturally even though when you get excited, you tend to gain really vivacious and loud movements. You try to and seem to have a life outside of your phone. You value quality time without phones (probably one of your pet peeves is having your date be on their phone instead of having a damn conversation). People envy how every hurt and negative experience of yours helps you find solutions to a better life. You seem empowered and have something raw and authentic about you. People can tell that you’ve experienced a lot and you’re still healing, and that only further adds to your charms. You have a new perspective for which people of the past truly envy you. Your self acceptance and how you overcome obstacles one after another. How could you possibly not be loved and admired? You are funny, passionate and have your way with words, you had to learn your way around routines and discipline due to how pulled you felt towards the new passions that you used to gain but at this point, you’ve learned how to focus and consistently work on either one passion or multiple passions at the same time without quitting. You still want to have fun and walk in the sun (and rot in bed) so there are days when you choose to act like a loser, HOWEVER, THAT’S NOT WHO YOU ARE!! These qualities add more humanness to you. You’re likely someone who doesn’t want to work a 9-5, even if you do, you still want to have something of your own and live life passionately. I wonder if all the piles are interconnected. I hope that you enjoyed the reading, much love and take care, until next time 🫶🏻.

#intuitive readings #pick a card #paid readings #tarot pac #pac #pac reading #pick a deck #astro notes #astro observations #pick a photo #astrovations #pick a picture #astrology #pick a card reading #pick a gif

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 2 days

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He's My Man (Part 1)

Summary: The reader receives an anonymous text from a new client needing an off the books patch job. However he's annoyingly good looking and the last thing you need is some ex-special ops guy hanging around. Unfortunately for you, Russell Shaw isn't the kind of guy to walk away when he knows something's wrong...

Masterlist

Pairing: Russell Shaw x reader

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language, gun shot injury

A/N: Contains minor spoilers for Tracker 1x12. Please enjoy the start of this new series! I'm not sure how long it will go but thanks for coming on this ride with me!

__________

Your ears perked up on Saturday morning when your phone buzzed on the coffee table before you. Not your everyday one but your one for work. You swiped it open, pursing your lips when you saw it was from an unknown number.

Need a patch job on a quilt. Doug recommended you as a good seamstress in the area.

Alright, well at least this guy knew one of your clients. Doug wasn’t a regular but you’d seen him once or twice over the years which meant the person on the other end wasn’t a cop most likely.

I can fit you in. More complicated the patch, the more it’ll cost.

Not an issue.

You hummed and stood up, grabbing your coffee mug along the way.

129 Edwards Ave in twenty minutes. Use the red back door.

You took a long sip and went over to the kitchen, tossing the rest down the sink, leaving the mug to be cleaned later.

You just hoped this job wasn’t as bad as the last one.

Eighteen minutes later you heard the back door open and then silence, a moment’s hesitation as your new client entered what looked like a storage area. You flipped a light switch, illuminating the small enter sign over the doorway to the room you were prepping in. A few moments later there were heavy boots against the cement ground as he entered, turning to tile, your head lifting.

A man in his forties, a quite handsome one at that, gave the small operating room a cursory glance before settling on you, determining you were the only one there. Meanwhile your gaze shot to his injured left arm, a gunshot from the looks of it. You only spotted one bloody bullet hole and figured that was the worst of it from the way he cradled his forearm.

“You the seamstress?” he asked quietly, scanning the counter full of medical equipment and metal table in the center of the room.

“Take a seat,” you said, patting the table. You went to a sink and washed up, making sure to keep him in view at all times. He winced and struggled to get the coat off, finally managing and revealing a quick patch job had been done. After drying your hands, you snapped on some gloves, the man’s coat and overshirt now on the table behind him.

“Russell Shaw by the way,” he said.

“Y/N,” you said, carefully taking his forearm in one hand, the top of his muscular bicep in the other. You turned his arm slightly, Russell wincing again. “Looks like a through and through. We’ll do a quick x-ray to make sure there’s no shrapnel and then we’ll get you stitched up and I’ll send you home with some supplies and instructions to care for it. This your only injury?”

“Yeah. Doug said you were good.”

“I am,” you said, offering him a brief smile, he returned. “Do you have any PTSD? Going to come at me if I I need to use a scalpel?”

“No,” he chuckled. “I’m good with all that.”

You hummed, guiding him to lay back. Three minutes later you were pushing your x-ray machine aside and taking the lead vest away, Russell sitting upright.

“Can I ask a question?”

“You can ask, don’t mean I’ll answer, sweetie,” you said back, hanging up the vest and going to your laptop on the counter.

“How does one get into this line of work?” he asked.

“Asks the man that’s ex-special ops and does private contract gigs, not to mention killed probably three people minimum tonight.” You glanced over to him, Russell tilting his head. “I know who Doug is and what he does. Makes sense you do it too. You have blood under your fingernails and given the splatter patterns on your jeans, you had multiple different angled shots so multiple bodies you hit.”

“...And you don’t report that sort of thing?” he asked cautiously. You determined his x-ray looked good and washed up again, putting on more new gloves. By the time you were standing before him again, he looked nervous.

“On occasion. But only the monsters. You, you don’t strike me as a monster, Russell,” you said, wiping some antiseptic over his entry and exit wounds. He flinched but only slightly at the quick burn. A moment later you were giving him something to numb the area.

“Someone took Doug. Someone bad. They would have come back if I hadn’t done what needed to be done.” You wiped sterile gauze over his wound and then flushed it, Russell watching your graceful movements with interest.

“Like I said, not a monster.” You hummed as you worked, Russell fixated on you carefully cleaning and then pulling the skin back together, tying it up neatly. You wiped away the evidence of his blood and wrapped his bicep in thick gauze, taping it down so he could still get movement without worrying about it coming off.

You chucked your gloves in the trash and nodded back to the door behind you.

“There’s a shower in there and some brushes. Turn it on low, scrub yourself clean, under your nails too. Use the blue soap. When you’re done, throw everything away in the bin, including your bloody clothes. You leave your boots, anything you want to keep out here with me. There’s men’s sweats and some shirts on the shelf. By the time you’re done, your boots and other items will have no trace of wherever you’ve been. Got it?”

“I do like a woman that takes charge.” He smirked, sliding off the table and dropping slowly to kneel to unlace his shoes, still looking up at you. “Full service deal you got going here.”

“Yes it is and here’s a friendly reminder for my new client. You come anywhere near me with your dick out, I’ll make you regret being alive. Understand, sweetie?” you said, patting his cheek. “Off you go.”

“God damn, I love you,” he muttered under his breath. You rolled your eyes but smirked when your back was to him. Ten minutes later the room was clean and Russell exited the bathroom with damp, slicked back hair wearing a plain white t-shirt, black hanes sweat pants and white socks. You nodded to where his shoes sat on the end of the counter, Russell taking a seat in the chair nearby as he slipped them on.

After he checked he had his phone, keys and wallet, he raised himself to his feet, pulling out his wallet.

“What do I owe you?”

“A thousand.” To your surprise, he didn’t flinch at that number. But like most of your clients, he didn’t have the cash on him, at least not that much. Russell smirked as he glanced back in the bathroom.

“Smart woman. You keep the evidence as ransom until your clients pay up. You won’t destroy that until after I pay, will you.”

“Not until we get to know each other better do I do that sort of thing without payment. Seeing as you’re new and a friend of Doug’s, I’ll give you to the end of next week to pull it together. I offer payment plan options and other alternative forms of care if shit ever really hit the fan for you.”

“Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that,” he said, putting down five hundred dollar bills. “I can bring the other half back here later today. Just need to run to an ATM.”

“Text me when you got the rest. I’ll send you a place to meet,” you said, nodding towards the door. He gave you a small salute and shook his head with a smile.

Forty minutes later you were sitting at a table in the cafe three blocks over, happily sipping on your coffee while working your way through a cheese danish. You spotted Russell when he came in. He gave you a quick, adorably awkward wave and ordered himself a drink. A few minutes later he was sitting down across from you, a small cup and what appeared to be a banana muffin in hand.

“You’re a coffee snob aren’t you. This place is pricey,” he teased, his brow furrowing when he had a drink from his styrofoam cup. “Shit. That’s fucking good.”

“Beats whatever motel crap I’m sure you’re used to,” you said, his gaze hardening for a split second. “Sorry. I always tail my first time clients to make sure they aren’t…you know who. You know the Elkwood Lodge on route 8 is cleaner and cheaper than what you’re paying for now.”

“How would you know that?” he asked. You shrugged and simply grinned, taking another bite of danish. He licked his lips, pointing at the yet to be touched danish beside you. “Was that one for me?”

“God no. I fucking love danishes and these are incredible,” you said, finishing off the first and biting into the other.

“You are something else,” he said, smirking when he slid a white envelope across the table. You tucked it into your jacket pocket, Russell picking at his own muffin. “You ain’t going to check it’s all there?”

“You’re a smart man, Russell. I think you know not to screw me over.” He looked you up and down, earning a pointed response. “Keep that gutter mind to yourself.”

“If I’m in the gutter, you’re right there with me,” he said, absently rubbing his injured arm. “And uh, if it gets infected or I think it is, I should reach out?”

“Absolutely. That ain’t a normal injury you’re used to. Don’t play tough guy, tough guy.” He nodded, his body twisting ever so slightly towards a standing position. “Nope. Stay for at least five minutes, then you can go.”

“You really like telling me what to do, don’t you,” he grinned.

“Russell.” Hss grin was wide before he took a long drag of coffee, humming as it went down.

“What if I want to stay more than five minutes?” You paused mid-chew of your danish. “Come on, one conversation won’t kill you.”

“I don’t get involved with clients.”

“Alright. I respect that but this ain’t my end goal. I’m going to have a normal life someday. I make a pretty mean homebrew. Going to get some land, open up a brewery, have some food, make it a little family place everybody can enjoy. So that’s my goal. I sure as hell know working as a seamstress ain’t your end goal either. So again, what’s the harm in one conversation?”

You bit your bottom lip, Russell’s expression changing, ever so slightly.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he muttered. “What-“

“Shut up,” you mumbled. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Your fucking face did. You don’t want to be a seamstress, do you? Can you not get out of your line of work?” You glanced out the window, even the wonderful flavors of the pastry doing nothing to help the unease in your gut. “I can help you.”

“I don’t need your help,” you snapped. You sighed, rubbing your temple. “Sorry. I…I’m just crabby because I didn’t have my morning coffee until just now.”

“Nice try.” You glared at him, his green eyes remarkably gentle. “I don’t leave my friends behind. Now either you tell me what’s going on or I’m going to poke around myself and I guarantee that’s going to be a lot more dangerous and you’ll just have to patch me up even more. What do you say?”

You stared at him and stared at him and stared at him for what felt like forever. Then you took out the envelope and handed it back to him, along with the five hundred in your purse.

“Go buy me two more cheese danishes and a large caramel frappe to go. Then take me to your motel room. This is a long fucking story.”

__________

A/N: Part 2 coming soon!

#Russell Shaw x reader #Russell Shaw #Russell Shaw Fanfiction #Tracker Fanfiction #Tracker #Russell Shaw x you #Russell Shaw series

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alrightieaphroditie · 1 day

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wipe my tears away | j.m.

*:·ﾟ✧ series masterlist | previous part!

pairing *:·ﾟ afab!reader x joel miller wc *:·ﾟ6.6k warnings *:·ﾟ18+! minors please do not interact!! talk of period pain, hormonal emotions, crying, kissing, some manhandling (if you squint), sad attempt at dirty talk, period play (lightly), fingering, maybe some degradation (not really sure), clit stimulation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms (f receiving), squirting/messy cum, p in v penetration (not protected, do better!), one mention of blood… please let me know if i’m missing any major ones! an *:·ﾟthis is for the girlies who get over emotional during their periods (they are me, i am them). this is a bit longer than intended, but once i got in the zone i literally couldn’t stop, so i hope y’all will enjoy it! kind of unedited, so if anything major jumps out feel free to comment lol. i also wrote this with correct capitalization, where all my previous fics were lowercase bc i couldn’t be bothered to turn on auto caps, so let me know if y’all prefer this format! check the series masterlist for the series tags!

synopsis *:·ﾟ joel comes home to find you laying in bed, crying because of period pain. he may not be a full gentleman, but he wouldn’t let you suffer when he has a trick up his sleeve to help sooth the cramps.

The pain that begins in your lower abdomen, the feeling that radiates throughout the rest of your lower body with enough force to make you wince, isn’t entirely new. It’s a monthly occurrence, actually. One that you feel like you should be used to by now, considering it’s plagued you for more than half your life.

But the outbreak had already happened when you first got your period as a teen, and for a while, your body wasn’t receiving the nutrients it needed to sustain that kind of function. It was a double-edged sword, the way you were appreciative that you haven’t had it this bad your entire life, while ruminating on the losses that occurred due to the infection.

Because it was a different story, now.

Now, you were eating more than you could ever remember before. Jackson was a thriving community, after all. And you were beyond blessed that you were one of the lucky ones who got to reside within its gates. Now, your body was properly fed and being taken care of for the first time in years, and that double-edged sword reared in your mind again; thankful for the safe space you’ve landed upon, but God, at what cost? Your period pain took you out for days each month, making you feel like a burden even though you physically couldn’t help it.

Your toe stubbed against a chair in your living room as another cramp worked its way through your body, causing you to cry out for more than one reason. Tears filled your waterline, and a heavy sigh escaped past your lips. The rough material of your jeans was digging into your waistline, your hair felt heavy against your neck and each strand that brushed against your cheek made you want to cut it off, and you just felt so useless. Some logical part of your brain realized this wasn’t really you feeling this way, it was just the hormonal shift, but that didn’t provide any sense of comfort as the tears continued to glide down your face.

In some ways, you were lucky, as today had been your day off from helping around Jackson. Otherwise, that sense of being a burden to everyone would’ve increased tenfold. You couldn't stop feeling like a burden to yourself, though. You had made a perfectly organized to-do list that was hanging on your fridge of things you wanted to tackle today.

Your sheets needed to be washed. The floors needed to be swept and mopped, especially after the rain, as Joel and Ellie continued to trek mud through your house by accident. Maria had given you some of the spices that grew in abundance, and you wanted to make one of those simmer pots on the stove that she kept mentioning.

But doing those chores was the last thing on your mind right now, as another cramp racked its way through your body. Now, you just wanted to go lay in bed wearing nothing but Joel's shirt that you had thrown on earlier and cry while hugging a pillow.

And so, that’s what you did.

Your vision was watery as your fingers swiftly worked to unbutton your pants, your feet carrying you out of the living room and into your bedroom before you really even realized what you were doing. Once you hit your bedside, you tugged the jeans down your legs, letting them pool at your feet and leaving them on the ground as you crawl into bed, feeling about as pathetic as you probably looked. Curling up on your side, you reach out blindly and grab onto Joel's pillow, tucking it against your body and letting it provide you a false sense of comfort. After that, the tears start flowing freely.

You didn’t know how long you laid there, didn’t know how long the sound of your sniffles had filled the room or how long you pressed the pillow against your abdomen. The cramps were still relentless, and it wasn’t like you even had any medicine you could take; expired Tylenol did absolutely nothing anymore. You wish you were more used to this feeling, this pain. But it seemed like the longer you were at Jackson, the worse the symptoms became each month. You had yet to figure out the remedies that were foolproof for this feeling.

Continuous tears turned into lonely, stray droplets as you held onto the pillow. The room was silent except for the occasional sniff. You had zeroed in on an undone thread on the pillowcase, not paying attention to your surroundings, so you didn’t hear the sound of the front door being pushed open, or the sound of Joel's work boots stomping across the wooden floors. In the corners of your mind, you recognized the voice that was muttering to himself outside your room, but your eyes stayed focused on that singular thread.

The thought of it being lonely, being apart from the other threads holding the fabric together, made your eyes water again. You could put yourself in its position, the ever present fear of being alone daunting you even now, and that was enough to send the tears over your waterline, racing down your cheeks and onto the pillow once again. The hiccup that came from your inhale was the noise that had the footfalls move towards your room, and through your blurry vision you saw the outline of Joel standing in the doorway.

“What's wrong?” Through your sniffles, you could sense his urgency, his rough voice filled with nothing but concern, and maybe a little worry. His gaze swept over your body, checking for any possible injury. This was the first time he’d seen you break down to this level, and the sight of you curled into a fetal position, tears streaming down your face with his pillow in your grasp… he prayed to God that another person wasn’t involved with making you feel this way.

It would be a shame to lose his good reputation amongst Jackson because he had to beat some fucker up.

Your gaze swung up to his face, and you made yourself blink harshly to expel the lingering tears. His face came into focus, the worry lines on his forehead becoming more clear to compliment the frown on his full lips. He had a spot of dirt streaking across his forehead, and his clothes were dirty from spending the day working outside. For whatever reason, the fact that Joel had been out working in the heat for most of the day while you couldn’t even manage to get up and wash your bedsheets made your emotions spiral even more. What is wrong with me? you wondered, hugging the pillow tighter to your body.

The sound of his work bag hitting the floor echoed through the room, soon followed by the shuffle of his boots being kicked off his feet. His hands were gently pulling the pillow away before you could even register that he was in front of you now, but you felt the bed dip under his weight as he perched himself at the edge. His broad hand rested on your elbow before sliding up your arm, gently caressing your skin until he reached the side of your face. The calluses on his thumb scratched against your skin as he swiped the digit under your eye, wiping away the tears that had pooled.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” his voice was softer this time, comforting you in a way that had you feeling alright for the first time today. You leaned up on your elbows, and Joel helped guide you into a sitting position across from him, your hands holding on to one of his while his other cupped your face, thumb swiping against skin. The action of sitting up had your cramps rearing their ugly heads again, and your wince was subtle but extremely obvious to Joel, evident by the furrowing of his eyebrows.

“My uterus is what’s wrong,” the scratchiness of your throat had you coughing slightly, and you worked to clear it before trying again, voice nearly as weak as you felt. “I'm on my period.” Joel's eyes widened in surprise at your admission, but he quickly schooled his features.

This wasn’t his first rodeo; he’d been with you for awhile now, but noticed that each month your symptoms were different. Sometimes, your sudden anger at everything gave away the fact that it was that time of the month. Other times, it was your sweet tooth and your cravings that gave it away. Rarely was it your tears, though, and his heart lurched at this new response.

When your hands went to wrap around your stomach, applying pressure lightly to help ease the throbbing, his free hand came up to the other side of your face. “‘m sorry, darlin. Know that ain’t the best feeling in the world,” his thumbs were doing a stand up job at wiping away the tears on your cheeks, and soon the only sign that you had been crying was the red glaze surrounding your pupils.

And the occasional sniffle.

You leaned into his touch, eyes closing at the surprising amount of comfort that you felt from a pair of hands. You always felt at peace with Joel, though, so you weren’t surprised that his hands had this effect on you. You focused on the rough pads of his skin against the smooth texture of your own, taking in big breaths of air through your nose as your crying spell passed through you. Now you were thinking a little more clearly and felt a little embarrassed by the fact that Joel had walked in on you crying over a thread on a pillow case. Not that he’d ever know that’s what you were crying about.

“It's okay. I'm sorry if i scared you or anything,” you started, opening your eyes to meet Joel's dark gaze. You offered him a small smile. “I really just need to learn how to deal with these cramps without them taking over my day. They seem to be getting worse and worse each month.” Your hands trailed up to grip his forearms, squeezing them affectionately as a wave of exhaustion flitted through your body.

Joel's eyes squinted slightly. “Cramps, huh?” he mused, the corner of his mouth quirking up ever so slightly. In the far corner of his mind, he recalled a younger Tommy swearing by a foolproof activity that helped one of his girlfriends with her cramps when medicine didn’t cut it. He wasn’t sure he believed Tommy then, or even now, for that matter. But he knew how much you struggled with the pain, and he’d feel like a real jerk if he didn’t at least give this a go.

“Think I know somethin’ that could help with that.” He pulled your head forward, pressing a chaste kiss on top of your forehead before dropping his hands and pushing off of the bed. You were slightly dazed, partly at the display of affection but also at the quickness in which Joel was walking to the bathroom. When he came back into the room with an old towel, you couldn’t help but look at him suspiciously.

“Joel…”

“Do you trust me?” He asked, tossing the towel on the bed and leaning down to look at you, eye to eye. His demeanor was calm, but his eyes shined with a hint of mischievousness, and the smirk on his mouth was nothing but trouble. It made him look younger, almost. Like the gray in his beard and around the temples of his hair was there prematurely. You wondered if he was like that more before the outbreak, and you reveled in this glimpse of his past self that he was allowing you to see.

“Of course I do.” Your answer was absolute, eyes showing no signs of distrust or wariness as you maintained contact with Joel’s. He reveled in the sureness of your answer, in the fact that it didn’t even take you more than a second to respond to his question. The smirk became a full blown grin, and you couldn’t help but mirror it on your own face as you wondered what the heck this man was thinking.

“Good. In that case, I'm gonna go clean myself up,” his lips pressed against yours in a swift kiss before he backed away, fingers stretching to the hem of his t-shirt. “You’re gonna strip out of those panties, spread that towel out underneath you, and wait for me to come back. Okay?” One of his eyebrows notched up, awaiting your response.

“Sir, yes, sir,” you teased, sending him off with a mocking salute. It earned you an eye roll, something he had been picking up more and more from Ellie's influence, no doubt. The sound of your giggle followed him into the bathroom, where he quickly worked to discard his dirty clothes and rinse off. The thought of you laying in bed with just his t-shirt on had him adjusting himself underneath the water stream.

Meanwhile, you were working at a slower pace.

You gingerly took the threadbare towel between your hands, kneeling up on your knees to place it where you thought would work best. You were starting to get an idea of what Joel was planning, and while you’ve never done anything like this before, you weren’t absolutely hating it. After you had smoothed the fabric out, you climbed back against the pillows, hooking your thumbs under the waistband of your panties and sliding them down. The pad on the inside showed slight signs of blood, so at least you weren’t bleeding too heavily right now. Usually that came after a day or two of the cramps.

You were combing your fingers through your hair when Joel walked back into the room, pausing at the threshold while you both took each other in. His hair was damp, droplets of water occasionally dripping on his forehead, brushed back at the edges and the tops to keep it out of his face. He had been growing it out a little longer, though you knew when summer fully came around, it’d be time to clip it.

He’d changed out of a plain, gray t-shirt into another plain, gray t-shirt - clearly a staple in his wardrobe - and you had to admire the way he was filling it out. The sleeves hugged the middle of his biceps, straining against the pure muscle that had been building up. The shirt fit loose around his chest, but you could see the way it was snug around his tummy area, the small pouch of his stomach highlighted by the thin material.

You weren’t the only one who had been eating better since arriving at Jackson; Joel was starting to bulk up and you were loving it.

Having ended his workday earlier, and foreseeing spending the rest of the day in bed with you, he had pulled on a pair of flannel pajama pants that clung to his thighs and offered very little to the imagination when it came to the thick imprint between his legs. The sight of him had your thighs clenching together automatically, heat racing through your body like a fever.

And he knew it, too. You could tell by the smirk on his lips, the way his gaze strayed from your eyes to your legs. He loved having that affect on you, loved seeing how needy you became by just the thought of being with him.

He walked to the other side of the bed, his eyes focused solely on you in his red shirt, the way your legs were crossed at the bottom, giving him just the smallest peak of bare skin underneath. You listen to him so well, he couldn’t help but admire. You gave him your trust so easily, and that was one of the few things that Joel considered to be precious in this world. He'd never make you regret that choice.

Leaning up on your elbows, your body naturally turned towards him when he finally settled himself on his side next to you. One of his arms slipped behind your head, tucking you into his body as the other came up to guide your face to his. His lips were soft against your own, and all the tension you had felt from crying earlier completely disappeared.

Your hands clung to his arm as he kissed you, a soft sigh escaping through your lips. Joel took the opening to deepen the kiss, sliding his tongue against your bottom lip before dipping it into your mouth. Your mind was growing fuzzy, and you simply let Joel manipulate you how he wanted, eagerly offering yourself to him.

His mouth stayed on yours, your noses brushing against each other with every tilt of the head, but his hand strayed from your cheek. It paved a path to the collar of the t-shirt, where he fisted the material and tugged it towards himself, halfway pulling you on top of him with the movement. Your hands flung out to his chest to stop yourself from completely crashing into him, and a groan sounded against your mouth as Joel felt the tips of your fingers dig into the skin.

He soon abandoned the collar, letting his palm slide down the expanse of your torso and bunching the shirt up a little before settling it right over your lower abdomen, fingers splayed out wide against your bare skin. The heat radiating from his palm on your skin was like your own personal heating pad; the soreness that ebbed from your cramps seemed to dissipate the longer his hand rested against your skin, the action making your head spin as you focused on breathing through your nose as Joel’s tongue traced along yours.

Joel’s mouth trailed from your lips down to your jaw, down to your neck. The stubble growing on his face scratched at your skin when he nuzzled himself in the crook of your neck, causing a combination of a laugh and a moan to flutter past your lips. You could feel him smile against your skin before nipping at it gently, using his lips and tongue to ebb the slight pain away. You could feel him sucking at your skin, and you knew in the morning you’d regret the red and purple marks that would litter your skin, but right now, the feeling was absolute heaven.

“Spread those legs for me, baby.” The words were whispered against your skin, accompanied by a quick tap to your thighs. You didn’t hesitate to obey; your left leg fell to the side while you rested your right leg on top of Joel's. His hand slipped from your stomach to your upper thigh, gripping the fleshy inside as he helped adjust it higher on his body.

The cool air from the fan had you shivering as it made contact with your bare skin, emphasizing the wet slick that had formed between your legs. Joel's mouth found itself back on yours, his kiss turning punishing, almost, as his hand slowly moved down your inner thigh; his teeth were biting and pulling at your lower lip, his fingers were digging into your skin as he kneaded and gripped your thigh.

“Joel,” you mewled, stretching up slightly to angle your hips closer to his hand. You were settled in the crook of his elbow, and his arm came up to bare against your throat ever so slightly. He essentially had you in a headlock, and you were helpless to anything he administered. Goosebumps prickled along your skin, and you whined once more when his fingers brushed against the crease of your leg.

“Shh, s’okay, baby. Let me take care of you,” his words were soothing, soft. A complete contrast to the way he was handling your body, and it was all you could do but nod in response, eyes wide and trusting as they held contact with him. His pupils were so dilated that you could barely see the rim of brown, even this close.

Another sharp tap to your inner thigh had you gasping, and Joel's mouth formed into a smirk as his calloused fingers eased the spot. You’d like to blame the hormones fluttering around your body for the desperation you were feeling for Joel, but part of you knew that he simply just had this affect on you. You always grew so needy for his attention, for his touch. Being with him was the only time your brain truly shut off and allowed you to feel safe, relaxed.

His fingertips were stroking the inside of your thigh like it was the strings on one of his guitars, a slow but firm sensation that had you humming; he was playing a different kind of instrument with you. You could feel yourself growing slicker, the bubble in your chest expanding as he teased you, touched you.

“Joel, please…” you trailed off, turning your head to the side and bumping the edge of his jaw with your nose. His gaze had slipped to where his fingers were caressing your skin, basking in the suppleness of your skin that so vastly compared to the roughness of his. You felt like a dream.

“Such pretty manners,.” he mocked, grinning to himself before meeting your eyes once more. “Since you asked nicely, though…” The kiss he pressed on your nose was soft, but your focus was on how his fingers were finally crossing over the crease in your thigh, finally trailing down to your core.

The first swipe of his fingers through your folds had a small moan emit from your mouth, and a curse came from Joel’s as he felt how wet you were already. “Shit, baby,” he muttered to himself more than anything, watching his fingers as he lifted them up into the light to see the shine. Chest heaving, you watched as he brought his fingers up to his mouth, watched as he placed them on his tongue before closing his lips around the digits and sucking on them while he pulled them out.

His fingers were now wet with his spit, evident by the thin strand of saliva still connecting his mouth to his fingers. The sight alone had your toes curling against the mattress, your mouth open slightly as you watched him bring his hand back down to your pussy. Your breath left you as his second swipe was firmer, the tips of his fingers passing along your clit for a brief moment before moving back down.

His forearm flexed slightly against your neck, his free hand moving down to brush against the top of your chest. One of your hands moved to grip his arm, nails digging into skin ever so slightly as Joel’s fingers brushed your entrance, swirling around slightly to gather the wetness that had formed. A soft sigh left his mouth as he felt you, and the next moment, two of his fingers were swiftly pushing inside of you.

“Joel!” You gasped out, back arching into his touch as he pumped his fingers into you once, twice, three times before pulling them out. Joel huffed out a laugh at your whine from the loss of contact, glancing down at you to see your reaction to him circling your clit with the pad of his thumb. He was rewarded with the softest of sighs, and the sight of your eyes rolling shut while your mouth parted open.

He didn’t hesitate to capture your lips with his, his mouth against yours as firm as his thumb on your clit. The kiss was quick, and Joel’s nose brushed against yours as he pulled back ever so slightly. “Such a pretty girl, achin’ for me to fill you up. My fingers feel real nice against your pussy now, don't they, baby?”

A short and snappy nod was your form of a response, as you were solely focused on the way Joel’s middle finger was circling your clit now. Your hips bucked up as waves of pleasure wracked your body, Joel’s expert fingers bringing you relief you so desperately needed. The action had Joel smirking above you, had his hips grinding slightly against your thigh in a sad attempt at getting some friction for his now hard cock.

Joel pulled back from his admissions on your clit, sliding his middle finger through the center of you before slowly inserting it back inside you. The gasp that left your mouth was music to his ears, and he began moving it in and out, curling it up once it was fully inside your wet pussy. Head falling back against Joel’s arm, your legs widening even further as Joel picked up a steady rhythm with his one finger.

“So good, Joel,” you rasped, voice breathless as Joel’s finger curled against the spongy part inside of you that had your body jerking in response. Licking your lips, you pulled the bottom lip into your mouth, teeth sinking in as the pleasure continued to build up in your body. Your right hand moved to rest on his wrist, while the other stayed gripping his left forearm.

Basking in your praise, Joel withdrew his middle finger and, when he pumped it back inside, added his ring finger. The addition had you groaning, feeling his two fingers stretch you out slowly as he pushed them inside and pulled them out. You felt Joel’s lips press against your forehead as he worked to pick up the pace, and soon all that could be heard in the room was the wet sound of your pussy being fucked by his fingers.

“God, I could listen to you all night,” he mumbled, curling his fingers in a “come here” motion inside you and marveling at how drenched you sounded. “So fuckin’ wet for me, sweetheart. Haven’t even taken my cock yet, either, you needy thing.”

His words only sparked the fire inside your chest even more, and soon you were moaning his name over and over again in some kind of sick prayer as he filled you with his fingers. Your mouth dropped open as his thumb moved to glide against your clit, pleasure radiating throughout your body.

Your fingers dug half-moon indentions in Joel’s tanned skin as the waves of pleasure finally crested.

Your body went rigid in his hold as your orgasm peaked, his fingers never ceasing in motion as your hips began to shake against his hand. He muttered soft praises as you came, moving his arm from across your chest and intertwining your fingers with his. You gasped for air as you came down, thighs twitching ever so slightly as you soon became putty against Joel’s body.

Only then did he pull his fingers out from inside of you. He kissed your forehead once more, cupping your drenched pussy with the palm of his hand. Your chest was heaving still from the orgasm, body feeling tired once more but for a completely different reason. Resting your head back on Joel’s arm, you glance up at him, expecting him to move his hand away and maybe help you clean up.

Instead, Joel’s dark gaze was solely focused on your pussy again. Instead of moving his hand away, he slowly moved it up your center, stopping only when his middle finger brushed against your clit. He moved his hand to the side slightly, letting the tips of his other fingers brush against the sensitive nub, before sliding it the other way. His action was slow, methodical even.

“Joel,” you ventured, squeezing his hand that rested in yours. His jaw twitched, but that was the only response you got. He leaned up on his elbow, your hand moving up along the mattress as he did so. Now, your interlaced hands rested above you, on the pillow, as Joel’s upper body hovered on top of yours.

Ever so slowly, Joel resumed the movement of his hand, sliding to one side before moving it to the other. His fingers all brushed against your clit, and the overstimulation you felt had your thighs closing together.

“Keep ‘em open, baby.” Joel admonished, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. His free hand pushed away your left leg before returning back to your clit, and you swore you could feel the wetness lingering on your skin from him doing so. The roughness of the towel underneath you prickled at your skin as your hips twitched from the continued pleasure.

“Joel,” you ventured again, this time more of a plea than anything. Tears formed on your waterline when he picked up the pace, his hand firmly rubbing against your clit each time he moved it. That bubble of pleasure formed more quickly in your chest, the feeling fiery and almost suffocating as Joel’s movements were relentless.

“Give me one more,” his voice was rough, distant. “Just one more.” His hand dipped to cup your pussy once more, gliding up through your folds and moving the wetness from there up to your clit. The added lubrication and friction as Joel increased his pace had you crying out, body arching forward at the onslaught of pleasure.

Your orgasm approached much faster this time, and you could feel your slick dripping down your skin onto the towel. “Oh my God,” you whimpered, your hand painfully holding onto Joel’s while the other, which had moved to rest on his hip, gripped his t-shirt. “Oh, God.”

This time, when you came, the bubble dropped from your chest and to your stomach and your body went limp as soon as your orgasm tore through you. Your mind was a haze of euphoria, and if you were more cognizant you would have been embarrassed at the feeling of your wetness squirting out from you, would have felt heated at the way Joel praised your body. Instead, you were blissfully gone, basking in the sensation that only Joel’s fingers knew how to bring you.

Joel’s hand slipped from yours as he pulled his arm up from underneath you, and before you were even aware of the shift, he was up on his knees, moving in between your legs and tugging his flannel pants down. “Gotta fuck you, baby. Jesus Christ, you came so good for me.” His hands bracketed your head as he leaned up against your body, the head of his leaking cock pressed against your wet slit.

You hummed at his praise, wrapping your weak arms around his neck as you shifted your thighs a little wider to accommodate for his hips. You weren’t entirely sure you could handle another orgasm, but you knew you were desperate to have him inside of you. His head ducked down to yours, and you enthusiastically pressed your lips against his, enveloping his hips with your legs in consent.

With a nip at your bottom lip, he slowly pressed the tip of his cock in between your folds, gathering the wetness that had accumulated near your entrance before moving his hips even further. The head of his cock pushed into your pussy, stretching you out even more than his fingers did previously. Joel groaned into your mouth as he pumped his hips slightly, pulling out of you before sinking just the tip inside you again.

“Fuck, sweetheart. My fingers didn’t stretch out your pussy enough, huh? S’fuckin’ tight as hell around my cock.” One of his hands came to brush aside your hair, cupping the side of your face gently while his hips snapped into yours. You cried out against his mouth, the feeling of being filled so suddenly causing you to wince slightly. You welcomed this pain, however, as it quickly gave way to pleasure the more Joel rocked his hips against yours.

Joel rested his hips against yours for a moment, his head falling down to your chest as he reveled in the tightness surrounding his cock. His breaths came out in short pants, the hand laying next to your head turning into a fist against the mattress. Your hips move up slightly, seeking out the pleasure even after coming twice before, and it brings Joel in further, causing you both to curse.

“So desperate for me to fuck you,” Joel’s words are accented by short, quick thrusts up inside of you. He pushed up off of you, your arms falling to the bed beside you while your legs fall open as they untangle from his waist. His hands grip the inside of your thighs, and he leans his weight forward a little, pinning your legs to the bed.

“I am, Joel. P-please fuck me,” you beg, gripping the sheets between your fingers as your hips meet his thrusts. Joel starts off slowly, implanting you fully on his cock before slowly pulling back until just the tip presses against your pussy. His bruising grip on your thighs holds your legs open while he works himself in and out of you, eyes cast on how your slick coats his cock, the occasional red streak coloring his flesh.

A stray curl of hair falls from his previously brushed back hair, and you itch to swipe it back into place, but his pace quickens and your hold on the bed keeps you from banging against the bed frame. The sound of his cock entering your wet pussy fills the room, the indecency of it causing your skin to flush with heat. Joel’s groans start to find time with your whimpers, and soon the noises of sex are emitting throughout the bedroom, throughout the house.

Joel’s hands move away from your thighs, traveling up your stomach and pushing up his red t-shirt to see your boobs bouncing with each thrust. He admires the peaks of your nipples, the way goosebumps arise on your flesh as it’s exposed to the cool air, before bringing both hands to grip onto them. His thumbs and forefingers pinch at your nipples, the pain mixing in with the pleasure seamlessly.

Your eyes fall shut on a moan, body arching into his touch as you clench around Joel, causing him to curse. The familiar sensation of heat fills your body, that third orgasm floating slightly out of reach. You move one of your hands down to your pussy, resting it on your mound. Your fingertips brush against Joel’s cock every time he withdraws, and you moan at how slick he feels before bringing your fingers to your clit.

“That’s it, baby. Make yourself come on my cock,” Joel encourages, gaze focused on the way your fingers nimbly play with your throbbing clit. His hands squeeze your breasts roughly one last time before he leans up, gripping your ankles and bringing your legs to rest on top of his shoulders. Your thighs press against his cock as he fucks you, adding in another level of pleasure for him as he fights back his orgasm.

“Just like that, Joel. Just like that…oh!” Your cries fill the room as he pounds into you, your fingers increasing the pace against your clit. Your movements are shaky, not precise in the slightest, but you’re still sensitive and wound up from your previous orgasms that it doesn’t take much to get your third one going. With a few clumsy swipes of your middle finger against your clit, and Joel’s cock ruthlessly hammering in and out of you, your final orgasm floods through your body.

Joel curses as he feels your pussy clench around him, making his movements stagger with how tight you become. He gives a few more deep thrusts, his own movements becoming shaky and less precise, and he soon slips out of you, rubbing the length of his cock along your pussy lips as you gush with your orgasm. With a grunt, he follows soon, his own cum spurting out of his red cockhead and on to your lower stomach.

Your legs fall meekly to the bed again, and Joel’s body sags forward a little before he props himself back up with his hands. The sound of you both panting is all that can be heard as you both come down from your orgasms; you, eyes closed and mouth open. Joel, eyes open and mouth closed, nostrils flaring slightly as he regulates himself.

It takes a moment before you both get back to yourselves, but when you do, you become increasingly aware of the wet feeling underneath your lower body, which causes you to giggle. “Guess it’s a good thing I didn’t get around to cleaning my sheets today, huh?”

A snort comes out of Joel, his head shaking slightly as he moves to brush back his hair. He takes in the sight of you, freshly fucked and thouroughly spent, and can’t help but grin. He might be older, but he relishes the fact that he can still please you like this. That you actually want him to do so. Makes him feel like a god among men.

He sees the tears around your lash line from your last two orgasms, and he leans forward slightly to wipe them away with his thumb, triggering in his mind the conversation you both had before this all started. “Feelin’ alright?” His gaze moves around your body, checking to see if he hurt you in any way. He notes the red marks against the side of your neck, the cum on your lower stomach and the beginnings of many small bruises along the inside of your thigh from where he gripped them to keep them open.

He’d be more worried about those if he didn’t know how much you loved having him mark you up.

“Just peachy,” you grinned at him, propping yourself up on your elbows to take in the mess below you. Joel leaned in to meet you, his kiss soft and soothing as his lips slid against yours. After a moment, he pulls away again, awkwardly shuffling to the edge of the bed before standing up. Hiking up his pants, he moves to the bathroom to get a washcloth to start cleaning you up.

After wiping away his cum and your wetness, he gently helps you off the bed, holding your arm as your legs fumble when your feet hit the ground. His pride grows then, and you smack his arm playfully when you catch sight of his grin. “Sorry,” he mutters, pressing a kiss against the side of your head before moving to gather up the dirty towel from the bed. He tosses it into the hamper before leading you to the bathroom.

There, he draws you a hot bath, guiding you in the tub and before pulling his clothes off and joining you. It’s a cramped space, the bathtub not technically suitable for two, but you make it work. You lean your head against Joel’s shoulders, sinking into his body as his arms wrap around your middle. You know you should do something with your bedding soon, should make sure you have the guest room set up so the two of you can sleep somewhere remotely comfortable tonight, but for now, you bask in his presence.

“Thank you for taking care of me, Joel.” You say softly, closing your eyes and letting the hot water ease away any lingering soreness your body has. His arms tighten around you as you trace mindless shapes against his thighs. He tilts his head to the side, kissing your forehead before resting his on top of yours.

“Anytime, baby.” His breathing evens out with yours, stubble rubbing against your forehead as he speaks. “I’ll always be here to wipe your tears away.”

taglist *:·ﾟ @hiroikegawa

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dr-felitas · 2 days

Text

angel of sin - sunday

synopsis: dreams are unattainable imaginaries, fragments we’ll never get to experience and only ever see over and over as they replay in our minds like a broken record. they show us the things we’ve always longed to have and to sunday that has always been you. so is it wrong for him to provide you with a joyous life within the dreamscape, even if that means without him?

pairing: sunday x reader | wordcount: 1.6k | content & warnings: MIGHT BE KIND OF OOC BUT I HOPE THAT IT WAS A SOMEHOW OKAY TAKE ON HIS CHARACTERS 😭 SORRY IF NOT ILL WORK ON IT I PROMISE, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst if you squint, metaphors (mentions of like “cannibalism”?? not really sure how to describe it but yeah tw), established relationship (written as couple in mind - can also be read as platonic), sunday-centered, sundays hella whipped and down bad icl; ficlet

a/n: i needed to post something and yay this is one of my like 5 sunday drafts or something!! or else it’s feliover. also this was written at 4 am lol so i’ll make my proper proofreads and adjustments tmrw HAHAHA edit: i changed the title to "angel of sin", the name it was supposed to be i just kind of messed it up due to my sleepiness HAHAH but the names inspired by my beloved ggz angel of sin

“tell me. why do you think we dream?”

bittersweet words that carry a sense of melancholy have been sitting atop the tip of his tongue for an eternal amount of time. there have been many - endless occasions where he wanted to confess, but in all honesty he can’t remember; he can’t keep count of the many times he’s wanted to ask you.

every time he tried to voice the question out loud, the words in his throat died down - they went numb and to sunday it felt like he had lost the ability to speak, as if he had lost his speech - his voice.

without the ability to talk, with no voice to say his thoughts out aloud, how was he supposed to express himself? with no words to leave his mouth he wasn’t able to soothe peoples worries - even if in sundays eyes he deemed those actions as unjust - inhumane.

not having the right words and owning no voice to say them would mean that sunday wasn’t able to tell and share his ideals - the ideology, his way to make humanity happy. a world where the weak don’t have to take risks and aren’t endangered, a society that deserves to indulge in happiness even when he isn’t able to experience it.

but most importantly, if sunday lost his speech, the trait to speak - the ability to voice his thoughts out loud, he wouldn’t be able to ask questions - questions asked by him to none other than you - questions which only you could provide him a satisfying answer that’d make him content and slightly put him at ease.

the poignant words that unwieldy fall from his mouth, they nip into the air like a newborn bird that has only now learned how to fly and continues to struggle, nevertheless it’s able to leave its nest and tries its best to continue no matter the amount of failure, afterall it has been caged inside its nest for a far too long time to not escape, right?

his words have been swallowed one too many times, they slid into his gut and stirred uneasiness, so, at some point there needs to be a right and somewhat ideal time for him to ask his question which yearns for an answer - your answer.

elsewise sunday doesn’t know if he can live with this feeling, the monster that lurks inside his mind any longer. it’s unbearable and he longs for you to open your mouth and answer him in the honeyed voice he seeks after.

he pleads for you to speak your mind before the monster continues to nibble at his flesh, shredding the layers of his porcelain like skin apart, tearing feather after feather from his seraphic wings, ripping his tongue stained in lies out and finally consumes him in whole - freeing him from his sins.

“why we fall asleep and thus dream, you ask?” your eyes shine bright as you look up at the circled orb - the silver moon that illuminates the dark sky - nights cloak that shields the two of you away from any outstanders.

the sky, which is encased in dark colors, except for the few stars and the moon that continuously shine, make it hard to see. but to sunday he can only see one thing - you.

there’s no need for you to look at him to know that he’s anxious, that the hand you hold on so tenderly is tingling in fear as he tries to maintain a steady breath while awaiting your answer.

you’re aware that sunday tries his hardest to compose himself and tries to not grab your hand too roughly out of fear of hurting you, eventually leaving harsh scars that’ll stain your sacred skin.

sunday would paint your skin in kisses, every spot that he’s tarnished in wounds would be sealed with a peck until it heals and begins to bloom once again. to sunday there’s no disgrace when it comes to you, no shame or humiliation.

to sunday you’re simply a blessing - a blessing which he can only repeat a “thank you” for over and over again, until it eventually stings on his tongue and rather sounds like a curse he chants repeatedly.

he’d get on his hands, making the palms of his hand meet the rough floor, dirtying his sacred skin with mud. the pebbles that are distributed on the floor come in all shapes and forms along with the glass shards and sticks, they dig through his palms, making them bleed, tainting his fair skin.

he’d get on his knees, even if that means wrinkling his clothes and ruining the neatly ironed fabric as they get covered in dust while he gets on one knee to tie your shoelace properly or lovingly massage your calf. sunday would get on both knees if you’ve asked - without hesitation.

because when it comes to you, sunday, head of the oak family, knows no thing such as “shame.”

the fingers that run along the back of his hand, tracing around in a circle like motion are comforting, he can’t help but ask himself if they’d continue to hold him even when he were to fall into a deep pit, an ocean of unresolved emotions, questions that constantly plague his mind, internal conflicts - inner self hatred.

If you were to see all of this - if you were to see how this all plays out and sunday eventually drowning in that void, would you continue to hold him even when decides that it’s the right thing for him to disappear into the waters? even if that meant that you’d drown with him and never be able to return to the shore?

you don’t deserve that, you deserve to live a happy life and indulge in all the things you’ve always wished for.

to sunday there has only ever been one wish he wanted to fulfill ever since he was young - a purpose he must accomplish: to make the people of penacony happy, especially robin and you, even if that meant being trapped in the dreamscape for an eternity.

due to his “minute”, personal, eternal sacrifice, he’ll never get to see that dream, he’ll be trapped somewhere else. perhaps he’ll rush to the end of this ignorant world, like a coyote mindlessly running around like a madman, searching for its prey.

he’ll run to a place where he can be at peace because where else is he supposed to be if not in your grasp? after all, what other place does he belong to?

“some people are simply too unhappy with their current life. so, they turn to dreams to indulge and live a carefree life that isn’t theirs. they’re able to enjoy a life with no seemingly worries, i suppose dreams show us the life we could have.” you click your tongue as you express your opinion.

“why only could?” sunday asks curiously, his wings slightly flutter at your response.

“sunday, tell me. do you really think it’s good to live a life that isn’t yours? a life you’ll never get to experience outside of your dream?” he can make out a certain frustration in your voice, as if you’ve thought about this many times, as if you’ve had this conversation many times already.

but with whom?

“so, why not stay in the dreamscape forever then?” he offers, it’s a light implication of what he plans. but it doesn’t come over as a warm welcoming invite - rather it sounds like a demand.

“its alluring, isn’t it?” you chuckle and sunday can only listen as you open your mouth again. “i’ve thought about it many times too, but i realized if i were to do that, i’d always be trapped in this cage with no way to escape. i don’t think i’d ever be happy, not having my liberty nor freedom to do as i please.” you mumble. “and would i even have you by my side? or are you busy then? gone from my grasp - gone from me?” you whisper reluctantly under your breath, obvious uncertainty lacing your words.

perhaps this is the moment in which sunday realizes that he had forgotten his initial dream, to make you out of all people in penacony happy. it’s selfish to abandon his former plans and adjust them just because of you.

but making you happy is somewhat connected to making the people of penacony happy, right?

also he has never mistrusted your judgment, your words were the only ones that put him at ease, the only words that actually understood him and his motives.

even though he’s bound to that dream, he’ll shed tears for you, he’ll get on both his hands and knees if it means to see you happy.

his heart has committed unforgivable sins. but to sunday it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter as long as it’s you. he’ll humiliate himself, turn himself into a criminal, go against his ideal - there’s no disgrace as long as it’s for you.

sunday is fully devoted to you.

his heart won’t stop beating, it’s pumping loudly in his chest as his wings continue to flutter. his soft feathers fall like tears, sliding down like droplets onto the ground. his wings are no more than shackles chaining him back from flying, from roaming the sky and exploring its very first and very last corner. they chains keep him bound to the floor, a place where he’ll never experience freedom to its fullest.

you’re his blessing - you’re more than enough and if it’s for you, he’ll fulfill your needs and wishes even if it means to go past his (former) ideals and ideologies. everything that you provide him with feels unreal, it feels too good to be true, almost dream-like.

a dream which he wishes he’ll never wake up from.

but he knows he’ll eventually have to but he also knows that you’ll also be there and not just in his imagination.

"ew omg who are they going to tag again, pls dont tell me its that kokomi person" (said no one ever) but YEAH indeed hello @azullumi while for me it's 4:30 am rn its 10:30 am for you!!! great innit (im not british) innit always reminds me of tommyinnit, tommyinnit reminds me of the jump in the cadillac, and that reminds me of bruno mars, bruno mars reminds me of good music, good music reminds me of tiktok and how it removed all the good music, AND TIKTOK ALSO REMINDS ME OF THE FACT THAT U TAKE 1 TO 2 BUSINESS DAYS TO RESPOND TO ANSER MT TIKTOKS AND ODNT YOU DARE BLAME IT ON THE WIFI NOW btw omg yeah guys im acc not a sunday hater lolll (th enote on my othe rnote said otherwise but i had to convince xue somehow okay..) i've acc liked him for a while - acc when he first appared in the story and i remember my friend not liking him and only liking robin loll while i was js gushing abt how cool and handsome he was HAGAG ANYWAY ENOUGHT ALKING ABT THE BUSH SORRY AZTUL ILL COME BACK TO YOU. im gkad to know that you recovered fropm your ilness!! and hope you'll enjoy the rest of your trip and write the aventurine angst (IM WAITING..) and also maybe i say it too rarely maybe i dont who knows idc but i love you a lotlotlototltotot, ill continue this shoutout in dms tho cause it'll get a bit more private (NOT PRIVATE AS IN INTIMATZE OR SHIT OKAY???)

e/n: you can tell i got lazy at the end. it was so sloppy and like so rushed im sorry :( like tbh im not content with the way it turned out at all at the ending but yeah idk

#felis-files #—stellaronhvnters.#hsr x reader #honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail x reader #hsr fluff #honkai star rail fluff #sunday x reader #sunday fluff #hsr imagines #honkai star rail imagines #sunday headcanons #sunday imagines #sunday hsr #hsr headcanons #hsr x you

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covetyou · 3 days

Note

please impregnate dieter

ok bye 💜👽🛸

fine 👽🛸 beam him up, boys.

propagation

ao3 ⋆ main masterlist

pairing: Dieter Bravo x f!alien rating: Explicit (18+ only!) warnings: dub/non-con (because alien abduction), alien impregnation, implied mpreg, anal sex (including rimming and fingering), tentacle (just one), belly bulge, alien gender includes humanoid alien ladies with shapeshifting tentacle dicks, spaceship bondage, light mind control. word count: 2.8k summary: He always knew their existence to be fact, but Dieter Bravo never considered their continued existence would one day rely on him.

A/N: seeded left me with too many thots, so I accidentally stayed up until 4am writing this, and finished it this morning, thanks to this comment of yours. I hope you're happy. I have very thoroughly impregnanted That Man™, with his own hypervirile sperm.

And for anyone curious, he was beamed up into the spaceship like a Sim.

tagging a few unfortunate people who have expressed interest in my little weirdo:

@sp00kymulderr @umnitsa @missredherring @thereaperisabitch @magpiepills

@pedge-page @max--phillips

Dieter has no clue how long he's been here. It could be minutes, it could be weeks. Time stopped meaning much of anything pretty quickly - that's how it goes when you're trussed up in a windowless room, strapped up by some extraterrestrial technology the likes of which he hadn't even seen imagined on the most bizarre of movie sets.

Logically, he knows he should be afraid. If there's one thing Dieter Bravo knows, it's to fear the unknown. But, some part deep inside him knew this to always be true. These things that have him existed long before he did and would go on to exist long after him too. Even deeper down he knows that what they're doing to him right now is to ensure that continued existence.

There's no other reason he can think of for being in a position like this.

Or stripped entirely naked.

And nothing else will quite explain the contraption currently strapped to his cock.

No amount of wiggling will dislodge it, and between the way his arms are strapped up and the way his hips are hoisted high in the air, his head left to dangle as it pleases, he doesn't think it's coming off anytime soon. It's a good thing he kind of likes it, even if it does make him feel a bit like a dairy cow.

In the minutes, hours, days, since he's been here, not a single soul has bothered to come in to see him. He didn't know if this damn tube that was pumping him was even okay to piss into, or where his next meal would come from. Realistically, he hadn't thought that he'd die here - it didn't feel like that kind of thing. Still, the fact remained that he hadn't seen a single living thing since the light took him and the floating feeling took over his body.

It was a floaty feeling, thanks to the position he's been kept in, that hasn't quite left him. Between that and his cock being relentlessly pumped without reprieve or release, he's starting to feel desperately lonely here, floating through space or wherever here is.

No sooner does he think it, when there's a hiss of mechanical doors behind him. Dieter opens his eyes - he'd closed them some time ago - and there she is, stalking towards him on two long legs, talking to him in a tongue he's never heard.

It's an unnatural voice. Somehow too high, and too low, and lilting, and rumbling all at once. It's the voice of a dream, one he's had before, except this time it's so very real. It wraps itself around him and lodges into his bones, vibrating sound through to his core until he's gasping and suddenly understanding everything.

This is a processing chamber. He is to be processed, bred, and released.

The newfound knowledge isn't exactly a relief, but he supposes the machine trying to milk his cock without letting him come just yet makes sense. The longer he teased himself, the more he had to give, and it seemed these lifeforms already knew that too.

She purrs, dark eyes bright and curious, and it sends a jolt to his cock, twitching and swelling in the grip of the machine. If he wasn't sure about coming before, now he's certain. He doesn't care who, or what they are. He just wants to burst, to give them every last drop he has, and to make a show of it for the alien thing standing behind him. She's beautiful. Her skin practically glitters, shimmers holographic, translucent, full of sunbeams and starlight. Her eyes trace him, examining every inch, before settling between his legs where his engorged cock hangs and his balls draw up in a desperate attempt to come.

But the machine still keeps him on the cusp of losing it.

Even when one elongated finger reaches out to stroke him, tracing down the seam of his sack, he can't come, and that's when he realizes it's her doing.

"Please. You can have it. All of it. Just please..." his voice sounds thick and just about as alien to his ears as hers did, but he knows she understands him.

He knows, because with a blip and a soft whine, he's being maneuvered in his restraints by some unseen force. With legs spread wider, and his shoulders pulled back, that ethereal voice hums through him again.

...Ready for processing...

It's her. Dieter can see her out of the corner of his eye as he twists in his restraints. But she's changed. Sort of.

She still looks effervescent - her skin shifting and fizzing under his gaze - but so much about her has expanded and grown. Her fingers have gotten longer, wider, the tips practically glowing with each throb of blood through her veins. She seems taller too, and broader, rounder, but he's struggling to work out what's a trick of the too-bright light and what's real. Fuck, everything feels so real.

Most of all what Dieter notices, and can't take his eyes off, is the swelling appendage between her legs that definitely wasn't there a moment ago. He'd almost mistake it for a cock, if it wasn't for the way it moved and writhed, as if a limb all on its own.

He should be scared. He knows he should. But he knows that all that's between him and coming is being processed, and he's quite liking the look of what that means.

Another tingle ripples through him, just as the cool weight of her drops down behind him.

...Commence lubrication...

Something slippery and long slides along his ass. It slips between his cheeks, wet and slick as it glides across his puckered hole, leaving trails across his skin. Dieter can't help the groan that leaves him. If this is lubrication, he can't wait for what comes next.

And then it slides inside, the slender tip breaching his asshole for a moment, feeling wetter than any tongue he's ever had there before. He can't help but twitch in his restraints, his legs trying desperately to give him momentum to rut into the air, to give him more friction so he can just come already.

Instead, he's held still by long fingers with too many knuckles. Fingers so long they wrap around his entire thigh, anchoring him in place. He's totally at the mercy if her and her tongue - because that's definitely what it is, even if the feeling of it swirling around his rim is more than a little different to the human tongues he was used to.

It probes into him deeper, and he groans in his restraints. The machine on his cock has stopped it's sucking, but it hasn't given up it's grip. He can't bust even if he wanted to, and he's starting to think she's never going to let him come.

He can feel it. The tongue slipping deeper, her mouth meeting the skin of his asshole, and the slick rush of liquid as it pours into his hole.

He's begging. He can hear it distantly coming from his own mouth, before the soft lullaby of her voice rings in his head and turns his bones to jelly.

But then she's gone. Her mouth unlatching from his ass, the tongue slipping from his hole, and the fizz of knowing is back in his head.

...Lubrication complete...

There's so much of it he can feel it dribble and bubble out of him, leaving gloopy trails down his thighs as he shudders in the bindings keeping him hoisted high.

He can see pools of it on the floor beneath him too, and more dripping in oily globs out of him as he shudders. No lube, or saliva, he's ever experienced is like this. Nothing has ever pumped so deep and felt so good.

...Commence dilation...

Fear.

Fear because he knows those words, but doesn't know what it means for him here and now, with his ass so he exposed to her and his cock at the mercy of the machine. Dieter tries in vain to move, to tuck his ass under so he's a little less exposed.

But it's no use.

The long fingers find his thighs again, and that voice echoes through his head, bringing him to calm as the tip of one throbbing finger strokes against the slick of his hole.

When it pushes in, the stretch feels no different to the toys he's used on his own ass, or the many people he's had fuck him before. It feels good. Incredible even. Each slight fuck of the finger into him coinciding with a deep throb in his asshole.

The bulbous tip of her finger pops in and out of him, drawing more moans out of him as his rim is stretched around the appendage.

When the thinks dilation isn't too bad, her other hand creeps up to his ass, pulling him apart and holding him open.

The stretch is deeper like this. And he's nodding his head, spurring her on to finger his ass more, to go deeper and curl just the way he loves until she's milking his prostate. He knows he can come like that. He doesn't need anything on his cock, he just needs some well practiced fingers in his ass, and he has a feeling this creature is extremely well practiced at this.

Deeper doesn't come, but the stretch does. It's the stretch of another of her thick tipped fingers being pushed into his hole. And when that pops past the resistance of his asshole, he yelps, his chin wobbling in a feeble sob. Dieter can't help but gyrate his hips. He's so desperate for more he's willing to risk those fingers pulling out and holding him in place.

Except they don't.

She lets him rut this time. He can feel the pleasant approval from her in his mind as he rocks himself in the air, fucking her fingers as deep as his shallow movements will allow.

Even when the fingers tug at him in opposite directions, he doesn't stop rocking. He feels so full and stretched, that he barely registers a third finger joining the others until it's too late.

He almost panics. Almost, because he's fairly certain at that same moment she tells him to calm, to relax, and he does. The tense muscles in his asshole give in to the fingers and let them in, all three fucking into him and stretching him beyond anything he's had before. Even a fourth, and final, finger doesn't draw response from him beyond a whimper and a sob, his hips still doing whatever they can to get the digits deeper.

...Dilation complete...

And then they're gone.

And he feels so empty.

"Please. Please you can't. Don't leave me like this, please. You've got to - I need to - please. Anything. I'll do anything."

Dieter knows he's babbling. Knows she might not even understand a word he's saying, mess that he is. But he doesn't care. He's never been so desperate in his life. He wants her fingers back, or her tongue, or even that terrifying thing writhing between her legs -

...Commence insemination...

He doesn't even hear it, even though it's right there inside of his brain, unavoidable. Dieter doesn't hear, because the moment the voice floats into his body, the slick tip of her cock, more like a tentacle than any penis he'd ever seen, slips easily inside of him.

It's immediately swelling and growing as it slips deeper. He can feel as he's stretched wider and wider around it, the whines that leave his chest turning more and more desperate with each throb of the thing plundering his hole. It's deeper than anything has ever been, he can feel it as it wriggles around through him, pushing aside organs and pulsing into the deepest parts of him. It's impossibly wide too, the deep stretch in his asshole unlike anything he's ever felt, even two cocks being no match for this thing she's wedged inside of him.

And the deeper it pushes, the wider it pulls him, the more he craves it, the more he needs something to anchor him down and ground him even as he floats along, hoisted in the air of a fucking spaceship to be bred by an alien creature.

Whoever his captor is, she's benevolent, and she gives him exactly what he wants. Her long hands wrapping themselves around his hips, finger tips pressing on the bulge in his belly, massaging him and drawing soft ah ah ah's from his mouth. She likes it when he makes noise, he can tell by the burst of approval tingling down his spine, like she's singing something beautiful to him as she destroys the very hole she just prepared.

When those same fingers trail down to his balls, the throbbing in their tips turning to frantic thrumming, vibrating his sack in her hand, he knows he's done for. The machine around his cock starts sucking in earnest, switched back on by some command unheard by Dieter. The tight grip it had around his base is gone, and all he can feel is relentless sucking, the buzzing along his balls, and the writhing tentacle cock deep in his guts, fucking the life out of him.

He feels higher than he's ever been, and before he knows it he's coming, his cock throbbing and pulsing in the tube that contains him, spilling out seemingly endlessly as the thing inside him writhes, pressing against his prostate and milking him for more and more and more.

He doesn't stop coming. It's still leaking out of him, his balls spent and drawn, but his cock red and throbbing and sore but still so drippy from the relentless onslaught in his asshole.

Around him everything whirrs to life. Lights flickering on control panels, sparkling across his vision. There's movement too, above and to the sides of him, but he can't move, doesn't even much care what's going on as he still twitches and comes and comes with her tentacock buried in him.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck -"

There's pulsing. The gentle throb of her fingers was one thing, but the thing inside him is now pulsing so deep it stretches him wide as each pulse ripples from the base of her through to the tip, where he can feel it burst and fill him.

And with one final wave, the biggest yet, the thing inside him throbs and bursts once more before she releases a pained gasp. The fingers around his hips don't release, the throbbing in the tips of them so quick the vibrations are numbing his skin.

Dieter can hear it - actually hear it - her voice uttering some gibberish he doesn't understand, and the thrumming pulse of her fingers eases off, even if the depth of her cock does not.

...Processing...complete...

His own breaths are the only ones he can hear among the slow winding down of the machine around him. There's other sounds too, as his vision hazes and blurs. Snicks of tubes disconnecting, the hydraulic hiss of moving machinery, the soft steps of the alien behind him as she pulls away, and out of him, with one final gasp from both of them as the impossible length of the appendage she had buried in him finally comes free.

The machine unlatches from his cock without another sound, before collapsing into some hidden compartment in the floor. The panel lights switch themselves off, and his restraints fall slack. He can finally move again, twist to see her, even though all of him aches too much to ever want to move again.

But he does. Anything to see her one last time, because he knows in his bones that this is his last chance. He's never known it himself, but he's certain she looks how love feels. Even now as she reduces back down to something a little smaller, but nonetheless imposing, he can tell that that's what she is. And maybe it's her function, the draw of her electrifying skin. Maybe she looks this way to make processing easier. Still, looking at her, he already knows he'd do it again, if only to lay his eyes on the thing that looks so much like a love he's never known.

With a final look into those beautiful, endless eyes, he lets exhaustion take him, the last remnants of her voice flitting through his veins just as he succumbs to darkness.

...Thank you...

He dreams of a light so bright he's certain he can hear it, the harsh metallic glare of it buzzing through his ears, making them ring and his head spin.

But the light gives way to darkness as he wakes, and he sees the very same stars that took him, just as distant as they've ever been, and looking down to the city below from the hills, he sees stars there too, as close as they always are, and the ache taking deep and low in his belly is forgotten, if only until dawn breaks across the horizon.

#dieter bravo #👽#dieter bravo x 👽#dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo fanfiction #the bubble fanfiction #coveted fics

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vickyvicarious · 2 days

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Oh yes, the feeling that you have to rely to the creeper who you loathe so much that you have come to hate even the rooms he resides in, that he's not the scariest thing in your life, that you have to run to his arms for safety. Horror! Dracula claiming him was the high point of the entry (than the almost-bite)

Honestly, yeah. The dynamics between Dracula and Jonathan are so scary, to the point that all the supernatural events are the cherry on top rather than the main course, as far as the horror of this section goes.

Dracula does so much manipulation here, holds so many different kinds of power over Jonathan, and multiple levels of each too. He's got physical power - both in the sense of the castle being a prison, and in the sense of his incredible strength. He's got social power - as a noble, and as a client/boss. He's got monetary power over Jonathan too, able to potentially make or ruin his career. He has so much control over Jonathan's ability to express himself - he's the only company available to him, he's forcing him to keep up a pretense of friendship, he's limiting and controlling his communication with others. Jonathan has no escape: he can't go out of the castle because he's locked in, he can't go many places inside the castle because he's locked out of them, and now he can't leave the rooms Dracula wants him in because otherwise the vampire ladies will get him, and within those rooms there is nowhere safe from Dracula himself. Jonathan has seemingly no action he can take: if he sneaks around behind Dracula's back, a greater threat awaits. If he acts openly, Dracula's own threat may become realized. If he doesn't act at all, he's doomed. If he acts at all, he's doomed. If he trusts Dracula, he's doomed. If he doesn't trust Dracula, he's doomed.

Of course, the supernatural elements are the mechanics by which Dracula increases the stakes, the threats underlying the charming veneer. Specifically, the introduction of the vampire women is what puts Jonathan in this seemingly inescapable box, and one with potential threats to something even greater than his life.

But Dracula's playing this Bluebeard role and could have done so with some more mundane threat as well, without changing too terribly much about his own actions. Where he's scariest (at least to me) is in these interactions with Jonathan, in these manipulative webs and traps he lays out in his words, in the way he pushes so many boundaries until they're forced to collapse or warp under the pressure. Jonathan's privacy keeps getting worn away. Dracula's speech and touch get more familiar and more possessive. He started out the first night blaming Jonathan for the things he did himself ('oh, why did you make your conversation so interesting we had to stay up all night?') and escalates until now he's making Jonathan be the one to act, and to suffer the consequences: whether in forcing him to lie to his loved ones, or in dangling the bait of sleeping outside his room and then only barely saving him when he does. And Jonathan has no real choice but to act. To fail to do so, in one way or another, would mean giving up all hope at escape or likely even survival. But because he has to act, he winds up feeling complicit. He ends up in situations where Dracula thanks him, forgives him, saves him. It keeps putting them on seemingly the same side, with Jonathan in a lesser/reliant role. And that's all a huge lie, at its core. But in a very real way, it's true too, to an extent. More and more, he's getting layers of resistance scraped away, and having to seek safety from Dracula now is so, so horrifying. In many ways all he truly has left is his will to live, his internal determination to resist - and now he's been given powerful incentive not to trust in that latter part too much. It's absolutely brutal.

He's walking a wire that just keeps getting thinner and thinner. All he can possibly do is try to keep this balancing act going, and hope for something to change that will give him more options down the line.

#dracula daily #jonathan harker #count dracula #rikiteekeetavee #replies #dracula claiming him was nearly the worst part of the entry. but for me jonathan's thoughts about it after the fact are even worse.#and it's not nearly rock bottom yet!

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muzansfangs · 3 days

Text

Bloodstain.

Starring: Aizen Sosuke x f!reader; mention to past Shuhei Hisagi x f!reader; Shunsui Kyoraku;

Format: multi-chapters story;

Warnings for this chapter: nsfw, vaginal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, spitting kink, possessive behavior, slight degradation kink, hair pulling, scratching, touch-starved Sosuke, manhandling, creampie, both the reader and Sosuke are bad at feelings;

Plot: The ache between your thighs and in your head were all that was left about the previous night. A quick shower and more than a mere goodbye kiss were the proofs everything was over. Leaving Sosuke’s quarters, you accidentally bumped into the Captain Commander. Fooling Shunsui was impossible and this gave the man the idea of burdening you with a particularly hard task.

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS CHAPTER | TO THE NEXT CHAPTER

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𝐀 𝐭𝐮𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐮𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.

The warm rays of the sun seeping through the window lunged over the bed, making you stir. The headache greeting you as you came back to your senses was the unequivocal sign you were experiencing a terrible hangover. Lazily lifting your eyelids, you rubbed your eyes and tried to roll over your side, hoping to indulge into the bed for some more minutes. Something weighing on your waist, however, prevented you from moving. Furrowing your eyebrows, you opened your eyes wider, letting your gaze drift downwards, only to spot a muscular arm draped over your body.

Connecting the dots, you felt your cheeks heat up, flashbacks of the lustful night you had spent with him resurfacing in the back of your mind. You truly had no idea how to deal with this. The ache between your thighs made you let out a stifled moan, as you gently grasped his wrist and tried to lift up his arm from your waist. Bad move, undoubtedly.

The disapproving guttural sound coming from the man beside you made you flinch and you turned your head to the side to peer at him curiously. Handsome as a fallen angel, Sosuke was resting closer to you than you remembered yesterday night. His soft, longer brown locks were delicately dangling over his visible eye, still closed. In moments like this, it was hard to believe he was a criminal, homicidal mastermind. On top of that, it was kind of unsettling you had let him ravage your body the night before. Physically, you surely did not regret it. Mentally, you had felt free, good, after so many months spent in crying your eyes out for the horror of the war, fearing of not making it out alive. What was now troubling you was thinking of what would have happened if someone found out about this.

“I’ve heard showing empathy to a partner the morning after is commonly appreciated. — Sosuke’s hoarsely said, causing your stomach to somersault, as you were absent-mindedly goggling at him — I was not expecting you to shove me off of you so cold-heartedly” he reasoned, his hand tracing the outline of your hipbone as you rolled your eyes at him and hid your face behind your hands to get a grip of yourself.

Having a soft spot for him was not an option you were willing to contemplate, but he was doing his best to make it hard for you to detach yourself from your feelings.

“I needed to go to the bathroom” you blatantly lied, hoping his brain was still not functioning correctly, considering it was early in the morning. Then again, Sosuke Aizen was not a mere human like you, nor a mere Soul Reaper.

“Ah, now you turned to the childish tactic of lying. That’s intriguing”.

“That’s simply trying to mark the line between us”.

Sosuke grinned, sitting up and hovering over you faster than you had anticipated. His hands latched around your wrists, pinning them together above your head. The warmth provided by his body, the way his abs grazed over your bare stomach and his cock was poking at your inner thigh was enough to set your body on fire and send your morals flying out of the window.

Dipping his head down towards your ear, Sosuke hummed and nosed the curve of your neck “Oh really? You know, this attitude of yours has got me thinking I should have probably fucked you harder yesterday night. — he cooed, inhaling deeply, as he now buried his face into the crook of your neck — Maybe, unable to walk straight, you would have had no troubles in admitting the already blurry line between us is no longer existing”.

You had almost forgotten how good he was at getting under the skin of his interlocutors. You had never been an exception. His charm, his way of making you question yourself and your own decisions, even bending your morals for him, were all signs you had never found the strength to build a wall between you two.

Therefore, staring up at him now, helpless as the bruising grip on your wrists did not loosen up, you snorted “Let me guess, you won’t let me go until I confess I enjoyed what happened last night?” you asked him, eyes narrowing as he ghosted his lips over your jawline, earning a sigh from you.

“Maybe I just want to fuck you again. — Sosuke replied, leisurely letting one of his hand glide down your body, tracing your belly, until it cupped your sex — Stuffing you so full of my seed it will dribble down your thighs, while you talk to your brother. What do you say?”.

Your lips parted, eyes widening even so slightly as you instictively tried to close your legs, unable to control the effect his lecherous words had had on your body. This time, you had no excuses, you were sober, you would have been convicted murderer of decency, if you let him in again. Still, as your legs were squeezed together, his hand did not move. His fingers, instead, spread your labia, his thumb searching for your clitoris and flicking it to watch the way your foreteeth sank onto your bottom lip not to moan. The signs of your arousal were crystal clear, though. From your labored breath, to your half-lidded eyes. Not to mention your juices seeping onto the pads of his fingers stroking your folds.

“I say you should let me go. — you breathed out, glancing at the sun raising outside — I need to make it back to the Inn, before my brother finds out I have not spent the night there” you reasoned, but the moment his finger eased into your core, curling, you gasped and a low moan fell from your lips.

Sosuke was staring at you intently, his free hand cupping your cheek “Look at me and tell me that you want me to stop” he stated calmly, your brows knitting whilst you struggled to steady your breath. The truth was you wanted more and you would have been damned, if you said you did not wish to experience the same overwhelming bliss you had gone through last night. Now that you were fully yourself, now that the sun was still not wholly up, nobody would have known about it. No one. No one, but you two.

“I should reject you” you murmured, nuzzling your cheek into the palm of his hand. You wondered why it always felt tender, why he was not imposing himself arrogantly as he always did.

“But your body can’t refuse, can it? Or, perhaps, you don’t want to at all” he whispered, easing a second finger into your sappy cunt. Thighs quivering, you gave up. Spreading them wider for him, you cupped his cheeks, cradling his face into your hands, and you knitted your eyebrows together.

“Promise me you won’t tell a soul” you blurted out through gritted teeth, cheeks heating up, as he bit onto your lower lip, tugging at it to assert his dominance.

You did not really need him to speak and assure you this défaillance was going to be your secret. Somehow, you knew he had no reason to spread the rumors around. Aizen Sosuke loved to watch people covet what was his, but he lurked in the shadows, keeping a low profile unless it was strictly necessary to make a scene, showing his cards.

Involving you into a passionate kiss, Sosuke groaned scissoring his fingers into you, as his tongue slipped into your mouth. There was something enthralling about his sinful hands on you, about the way he was so hungry for your flesh he almost trembled. You could not let it slide this time, not as you kissed down his jaw and brought your mouth to his ear.

“Why are you shuddering?” you whispered, hooded eyes fluttering close as he curled his fingers into you once again, stimulating that spongy spot that made your body shake in violent waves of pleasure.

He glared at you, teeth sinking onto the crook of your neck to leave the umpteenth mark since the previous night “Years go by, but you still run your mouth like a impudent toddler” he deadpanned, lapping at your now bruised skin before leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your cleavage, between the valley of your breasts.

You writhed beneath him, your hand gliding behind his neck, gripping his neck as he flicked his tongue over your right nipple. You could not take it anymore and he knew it, he could feel your inner walls tightening around his fingers, before he denied you your orgasm once again. He seemed to draw immense pleasure from torturing you. It was only now, as you opened your eyes again, watching how he grabbed his cock, giving it a few languid strokes to line it to your opening, that you connected the dots. He was, without the shadow of a doubt, touch-starved.

Caramel eye glimmering in wanton, his tip rubbed down your slit, collecting your juices meticulously.

“You’re touch-starved” you breathed out, softly, a pang of pity in your voice that visibly irked him.

“Shut up” he growled, before pushing himself deep into your core, pulling a loud moan from you, as your back arched in sheer pleasure. Your legs, hooked around his hips, tightened around him and squashed him even closer to you.

While the sting of pain caused by the sudden intrusion was already fading away, you instinctively let your nails dig onto his shoulderblades, crescent moon marks appearing on his flesh like a tattoo. Smoothly, he witherdrew slowly from you warm channel, only to thrust back inside vigorously. A breathy moan was ripped from your throat, while you lolled your head back and exposed your neck to his vicious mouth. The snaps of his hips were something out of this world. Never in your life you had ever felt such a pleasure, such a passion and mastery among the bedsheets. Sosuke was greedy, grunting softly next to your ear, making sure you could feel him wholly.

Toes curling, you let your thoughts run free “Is that what Muken has done to you?” you asked him, only for Sosuke to wrap one of his hand around your throat, firmly, but not enough to hurt you.

“That’s what you did to me”.

The meaning behind his words was unknown to you. Did he mean he had longed for you for so long he had eventually lost his mind? However, you knew Sosuke enough to confidently say he did not care about anyone, or anything in this world except for himself. Maybe you were a whim he had finally satisfied, or maybe he was in denial upon ascertaining himself he was indeed touch-starved. He was smart, you were one-hundred percent sure he perfectly was aware of his own feelings and emotions. Admitting them out loud, though, was out of discussion.

When he felt your inner walls spasming around his cock, he gritted his teeth and sat back on his heels, hands sliding up your thighs and taking a hold of your ankles. Pushing your legs up, he buried himself into you until the hilt. The action stole the air from your lungs, as you just lied there, hips uncontrollably bucking up, while he pinned you down with a lustful glare.

“You should have not told me a fellow shinigami had fucked you before me” he rasped out, pausing only to give you a few rough thrusts that made you go in a frenzy.

This feeling, the way the tip of his cock bumped against your cervix, causing winces of pain to erupt from your throat should have been illegal. The pleasure, mingled to that numb pain, was too go to exist. All you could do was staring up at him, watching how his hips smoothly snapped upwards towards yours. His body was perfect, resembling one of those marble statues carved by a greek sculptor.

“I want him to see you struggling to walk, after you leave my quarters. I want him to smell me on your body, to taste my seed when he goes down on you and realizes you will not be satisfied ever again after me” he affirmed, nostrils flaring as he ravaged you at a breathtaking tempo.

His words ominously echoed in your head, as the face of Shuhei appeared before your eyes. You were not his girlfriend, you had never been, but you had promised him to talk about what you two might have had in the near future. If only he knew how you had spent the night and the early morning, he would have never looked at you the same way. Your fists clutched the white blankets at your sides tightly, a shameless moan leaving your lips as you felt him twitch into you. He was close and so were you. Stopping was pointless, by now. You had already made up your mind. You would have done what you did best, the very thing you had done with Shuhei: disappearing for a while. But could you really play your same old game with Sosuke? The way he now spread your legs wider, settling them onto his shoulders as he fucked you stupid, were suggesting you a different ending.

Sweat beaded his forehead as you tightened around him, earning a grunt from the man above you. The way he held you, the way he fucked you, it was possessive. The way he had expressed how much he would have liked to see Shuhei’s world crumble upon tasting his sperm into you spoke volumes. Then again, you refused to believe Sosuke was obsessed with you. No matter the deep conversations you two had had in the past, or the fact that he had saved your life more than once in Hueco Mundo.

You two were not meant to be.

You shuddered, you could feel his balls slapping against your ass, as he lunged over you and folded your body in half “Look at me. Look at me, while I make you come” he ordered, breath ragged as you stared deeply into his eye.

“It’s so fucking weird, Sosuke. — you stated, as his thrusts got sloppier — You… You craving my attention is not something I had forseen happening in my whole life”.

“Then it means you never paid attention to our interactions. That’s disappointing” he huskily replied, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Whatever. It’s not like I’ve ever cared about failing your expectations” you breathed out, before he reached his hand up and pushed his fingers into your mouth, forcing it open while he gave you a brutal thrust. And just like that, he spat into your mouth.

Your eyes grew round as his saliva slided over your tongue, his hand closing your mouth forcefully as he chased his orgasm with more urgency now. Degraded by the very man you had once hoped to destroy, you swallowed, too proud to belittle yourself with a row. Huffing, you just tugged at his hair harsher than you ever did, your eyes locked with his as you tightened around him and reached your climax with a strained moan.

Sosuke glared at you, before finally giving you a last thrust and finishing deep into your core. His warmth flooded in your gummy walls, your thighs quivering at the feeling, as he stayed still to make sure not a single drop was wasted. You were panting and he was too, when he slowly pulled out and proceeded to spread your labia to contemplate his work.

Still oversensitive, you flinched and tried to swat his hands away, but eventually you gave up, as he shot a cold glance at you.

“What’s your deal?” you queried, whilst he watched his cum ooze out of your core with sheer interest.

He smirked “Just wanted to carve in my mind the sight of my seed in your pussy, before you leave” he cooed, as you felt your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. It was time to clean up and leave that room and the hellish man inhabiting it behind. As soon as possible.

Sitting up, you found the strength to push his hands off of you. Sosuke did not put up a fight this time, eyes merely following your movements as you attempted to stand up on your wobbly legs. Bending down, you collected your clothes from the floor and scowled at the thought of wearing them again, at least, until you could finally sneak back into your room at the Inn.

“Aren’t you going to gift me your underwear?” Sosuke spoke out from behind you, causing you to stop in your tracks.

“Excuse me?” you quipped, whipping your head back towards him.

“I thought it was a ‘human thing’ women did. — he casually replied, albeit you could tell he was clearly feigning ignorance to mess around with you — I saw it in a couple of movies”.

You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him on your way to the bathroom “Don’t be ridiculous. Still, I didn’t think you were the type to sniff them in the dead of the night”.

You had not anticipated his comeback, though. The smug grin on your face dropped as quickly as it had stretched your lips, upon hearing his words.

“I don’t need to sniff your thong to smell your pussy. — he declared calmly, cocking his head to the side as he eyed your body — If I want to eat you out, all I have to do is ask you to spread your legs and I know for sure you’d do it without hesitating” he bantered, causing you to mentally curse yourself and dash into the bathroom.

Sliding the door shut, you rested your forehead against the smooth wooden surface and closed your eyes. You had a talent. An incredible talent at screwing up your already chaotic and messed up life. Sosuke was right. Even though your rationality suggested you not to let him touch you ever again, you perfectly knew that, after what had happened between you two, you would have not been capable to push him away if he touched you. But this toxic attraction was not healthy. Sosuke had been poisoning you for years, gradually, drop after drop. You knew that too. Nevertheless, you had let him do that, feeding you that insatiable thirst for his venom until you had let him own every inch of your body in the most visceral way imaginable.

You hated yourself for having played with Shuhei, for having let your relationship sink. Not even the war was an excuse for what you had done. If you want someone, you fight for him, you ignore the adversities life throws at your face. Through pain and blood, you do anything you can to get them. But the real question was: did you want him as much as he wanted you?

Now, letting the warm water cascade over your naked body, fingers rubbing your scalp gently, you felt like a bubble in the wind, waiting for an angular rock to pop you and let you explode in your misery. You needed to leave this place, to leave Sosuke’s barracks, go back to your room in the Inn to collect your belongings and find Shuhei. After that, you could finally go back to your ordinary life in the World of the livings. Or so you thought. Washing away quickly any trace of your misconducts, you lost no time in hopping out of the cubicle and wrapping a towel around your body. Drying your hair at the best you could, you did the same with your body and put back your uniform, before taking a deep breath and going back to the bedroom. Upon entering, you were not shocked to spot a still very naked Sosuke sitting on the edge of the bed. A silky black dressing gown was draped over his shoulder, his lips grazing the rim of a cup of a tea as his right leg was crossed over the other.

He reminded you of a bohémien artist, at first. But he was anything but that. Passing by him, you grasped your zanpakuto and secured it on your hip. Then, you halted and clenched your fists down your sides nervously.

“That’s the end of the road for us, I guess” he spoke out, saving you from babbling out idiotic phrases you would have regretted on your way out of there.

“Yes, it is” you shortly mumbled, nodding your head imperceptibly.

“I see. — he replied, pausing just to settle the now empty cup on top of the nightstand — Let me say my goodbyes properly, then” he chimed again, standing up and approaching you.

You were frozen in place, unable to move as he grasped your chin delicately between his thumb and forefinger. His hot breath fanned your cheek, as his lips ghosted over the skin leisurely, sending waves of electricity through your veins “I keenly look forward to seeing you again” he whispered, before capturing your lips with his in a demanding kiss you could not refuse.

One last kiss, one last taste of his sinful lips as you reciprocated it, as you let his tongue invade your mouth and strip you of your last shred of dignity left in you.

When it ended, you flicked your gaze up to meet his. Your breath was labored, your heart thrumming against your ribcage so violently you thought it was going to break the bones and jump out of your chest. Breathless, you shook your head and slided the door behind you open rather clumsily.

The still cool air of the early morning nipped your skin, as you glanced at him from the porch one last time “See you” you mumbled, before sprinting down the same path you had drunkely taken yesterday night.

You could have used the flash-step to get to your destination faster, but your legs were still kind of numb. The dull, steady thump of your feet hitting the floorboards was the only audible sound accompanying you, as you tried to concentrate on your task: getting to the Inn as soon as possible. Cussing under your breath, you turned to the left to get to the staircase, but your head was so in the clouds you had not even been capable of detecting the strong and familiar reiatsu coming from the that direction.

Your nose colliding with a broad, hairy chest and your ass landing onto the floor were enough to halt your run. Groaning softly in pain, your gazed up to see who was the man you had bumped into, only to gawk at the sight of the Captain Commander himself. You blinked, ascertaining you were far from being still drunk. He was there, grinning down at you amusedly as he immediately offered his hand to you to get back on your feet. Shunsui Kyoraku, the kindest shinigami you had ever had the pleasure to meet.

“Isn’t it too early for you to be up?” you nervously chortled, taking a hold of his hand and getting back on your feet.

The man in front of you sighed, head turning to the side as he clicked his tongue “At least someone remembers I am not an early bird. Being the Captain Commander is harder than you could ever imagine” he stated, rubbing his chin listlessly.

Fixing your uniform, you smiled at him and glanced up at the sky. It was still early, definitely too early for your brother to be roaming down the streets. But you needed to make enough time to take care of the various issues caused by your tendency to gum up your efforts of living a peaceful life.

“And what about you? All alone, disheveled, black circles under your eyes, hickeys on your neck… — Shunsui noted casually, your eyes darting on him as your hand instictively gripped the collar of your uniform to tug it up to cover the bitemarks — I can only think about a thing, miss Kurosaki” he stated, blessing you with one of his characteristic smiles.

Fooling Shunsui Kyoraku, a man who lived the life of a laidback lothario, drunk most of the times, someone who had no qualms in showing the world how much of an hedonist he was, was the equivalent of dressing up as a clown and pretending not to work in circus. You were toasted, as a matter of fact, but you still tried to push your luck. There was nothing wrong with having sex with someone, right? And you probably did not even expect him, out of everyone you knew, to give you the speach. You were a grown up woman, living up to the idea you could make your own decisions, when it came down to your body.

“And you’d be right. I drank a little too much yesterday night and I loosened up” you stated casually, already trying to turn your back at him, vainly hoping you had washed away Sosuke’s reiatsu and that his chamber was not the only one located in that direction. But Shunsui was not naive.

As his hand latched around your wrist, stopping you, it was clear he had got the hint of what had happened “How was it? Did he hurt you?” he asked, a concerned undertone echoing in his words as you twirled around to face him again.

Cold sweat collected behind your neck, your breath hitching as you gaped and stammered a simple “Who?”.

“I’m not here to judge you. I’m the last person who could do that anyway. I just wanted to check on you” Shunsui explained, this time sounding serious. His single grey eye was looking straight into yours, showing empathy as his grip on your wrist loosened and you dropped your arm back down your side.

Why lying now?

“Shunsui, promise—” you started, warning him with a glacial glare in your eyes as you took a step closer to him, checking the area as if you were looking for a possible passer-by.

The Captain Commander smiled, lowering his hat over his head to shield himself from the sunlight “Your secret is safe with me” he said and, in that very moment, you trusted him. How could you not, after all?

Straightening your back, you huffed and leaned against the wall at your back. Your eyes downcast, as you eventually decided to confirm his suspicions “It was consensual, if that’s your concern and… He has been actually exceptionally kind to me. I fainted in front of his room and he brought me in. I don’t think I need to explain what happened next” you replied, cheeks heating up, as you reminisced the actions that had led you to moan Sosuke’s name, as if your life depended on it.

If you closed your eyes, you could still feel his touch lingering on your skin, smell his cologne as he held you close to his body. But it was wrong and, now that the thrill had expired, you had no reason to think about it ever again.

Shunsui nodded, folding his arms against his chest “You know, it’s actually funny how the first person he talked about when I unsealed him was you. He was awfully concerned about your whereabouts”.

His words piqued your interest this time, your brows furrowing as you tilted your head to the side, inviting him to go on with his narration. After being unsealed, the first person that came to his mind was yours. Why? What did he want from you? Except for your body, obviously.

“What?” you quizzically asked him.

“That’s right. He wanted to know if you were alright. He told me he had sensed your reiatsu getting feeble. He wondered what had happened to you, but he obviously did not give away to me too much of his mind. I think I know why he was so invested into you now… — Shunsui said, scratching his stubble, as he eyed you up and down with a thoughtful gaze that did not promsie anything good — Which is giving me ideas”.

You blinked a few times, mostly puzzled by the informations you had just received by the former Captain of the Eight Division. Sosuke had sensed you had gotten badly injured and he had gone to the extent of asking Shunsui about your well-being. What was going on inside his mind was a mystery you were not capable of figuring out. Not yet, not even in the vulnerable state you had seemingly seen him at that morning. His solitude and his yearn for human touch were getting the best of him, even if he strived to carefully hide the truth.

“Ideas? I know that face and I really have no time to put up with your shit” you jabbed your finger at the man, arching an eyebrow up expectantly.

Shunsui, however, had already made up his mind. While he smiled at you, he did not reconsider even for a second his decision “Well, you can go to pack your stuff and say your goodbyes for now. But, unfortunately, I need your help with our special threat” he stated, earning a resentful look from your behalf.

He needed what now? Your help with who? With the very person you were avoiding to meet ever again? You thought he was jesting, at first, but when he did not join your soft chuckle, you realized he was serious and your smile dropped from your face instantly.

“Whatever you are thinking about, erase me from the list of people involved in your plan” you flatly said, but Shunsui shook his head.

“Ah, my dear Y/N, I am afraid I can’t. Not when you are the only person in the whole world he does not completely despise. Also… Come on, you guys are pretty close now” he started, subtly smirking as you stared at him horrified.

“Shunsui—”.

“I need someone to watch over him and…”.

“Awesome, ask someone—”.

“…You are going to let him live rent free in your house”.

“What?!” you snapped, colors draining from your face as you clasped your hand over your mouth in shock. You could not believe what you had just heard him saying. He was out of his mind, clearly.

But the moment you both sensed a powerful and tremendously strong reiatsu raining down on you, Shunsui chuckled and you had no other choice but to come to terms with the fact that you could not abandon your friend like that. Gritting your teeth, you stood back up and your eyes met with Sosuke’s ones. Fully dressed, he was standing a few feet away from Shunsui and you, his appearence radiating a sense of superiority that almost nauseated you.

“It’s rude to talk about people behind their backs. — Sosuke chided you both, as Shunsui huffed at his remark — Care to tell me what’s the deal with you two?” he asked you, his gaze lingering on you for way longer than you expected.

Shunsui raised his hands apologetically, taking a single step closer to Sosuke, his tone of voice uncharacteristically serious “How does it sound sharing a roof with this beautiful girl, Aizen-san?”.

And, God, the way Sosuke’s eye gleamed in mischief upon hearing those words was enough to make you realize how bad your situation was.

AUTHOR NOTE.

Here we are with the third part. The things I have planned for this one are scrumptious, I promise!❤️ Hit me with a feedback, if you want! Likes, comments and re-posts are greatly appreciated!

Until next,

X O X O

TAGS: @onyxino @seireiteihellbutterfly @pseudowho @areyouflying @bakugosgirl01

#aizen sosuke x reader #aizen smut #aizen sosuke smut #sosuke aizen x reader #sosuke aizen #bleach smut #bleach x reader #bleach #kyoraku shunsui x reader #shuhei hisagi x reader #aizen x reader

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sen-ya · 2 days

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part 5/7

is it silly that this is my favorite in this series? i really enjoyed writing kaya and I wanna do it again at some point :')

[op comic masterpost]

[pg1] panel 2: Kaya: Oh! Dr. Law! I didn't expect to find you in our library.

panel 3: Law: K-Kaya-ya!

panel 4: Law: Uh. Ahem. Excuse me. I hope you don't mind me borrowing your books.

panel 5: Kaya: Oh of course not! I'm just shocked to hear we have books you don't! What are you studying?

panel 6: Law: UHHHHH

[pg2] panel 10: Kaya: Oh! Is someone on your crew pregnant? Ikkaku??

panel 11: Law (thinking): She doesn't know Ikkaku is trans. Does she not know that I am?? I just assumed Nose-ya would have mentioned it. But that makes sense. If Straw Hat didn't already know Nose-ya was trans it's not like I would have told him.

panel 12: Kaya: ...?

panel 13: Law (thinking): Fuck, I've been quiet too long. I can't throw Ikkaku under to bus. Just say something.

panel 14: Law: No. Kaya: Oh. Then why...? Law (thinking): Wait, shit

[pg3] panel 15: Law: My, uh...brother...'s...wife. Yeah, we're taking him back to Zou soon...because his wife is pregnant...and I...want...to help...?

panel 16: Kaya: Oh, how sweet! Congrats "Uncle Law" hehe. If you have any questions I could help with let me know!! I specialized in traumatic injury, but I did deliver a few babies in Syrup Village! On smaller islands like that you wear a lot of hats.

panel 17: Law: And you've...been pregnant. Kaya: Well, yeah, but I wasn't my own doctor! Could you imagine if I had tried to deliver the twins myself? Even a doctor needs a doctor, you know that.

panel 18: Law: ...right.

panel 19: Law: ...what...what was it like?

panel 20: Kaya: Oh, my pregnant patients were actually pretty fun! I suppose it makes sense that as a pirate ship doctor you wouldn't have had to know obstetrics. But it was always so lovely to hand a parent their--

[pg4] panel 21: Kaya: ...newborn...baby...?

panel 23: Kaya: ...I'm sorry, Dr. Law. If there's context I need you'll have to give it to me. I'm not good at guessing.

panel 24: Law: What do you mean, I just gave you context. Kaya: With all due respect, you're full crying. It's a new sight for me!

panel 25: Kaya: You can tell me what's going on! I'm told I'm a very good listener

panel 26: Law: ...You Straw Hats sure are a pain Kaya: Sorry, hehe

panel 28: Law: ...I...ahem...so number one, if you didn't know...I'm...I'm trans.

panel 29: Law: But not like your husband. He got the works from Ivankov-ya...I never felt the need to seek that out.

[pg5] panel 30: Kaya: ...I see

panel 31: Kaya: How far along are you? Law: ..12 weeks, give or take. Kaya: Well, I've provided obstetric care of all kinds. So whatever questions you're researching here...why don't you ask me instead of being your own doctor?

panel 32: Law: ...Same question. What was it like?

panel 33: Kaya: Being pregnant was a horror show!

panel 34: Law: A glowing review. Kaya: Oh, sorry! I can lie if you'd prefer!

panel 35: Kaya: I was just so sick my first trimester! Law (speaking over her): KAYA-YA I THOUGHT I WAS DYING FOR TWO WEEKS WHEN WILL IT STOP I CAN ONLY EAT RICE.

panel 36: Kaya: It's different for everyone. By the end it wasn't quite so bad for me, though. And I love my kids so much. They were such cute newborns!! So I was alright being uncomfortable for awhile. Because that's what we wanted, you know?

panel 37: Kaya (off screen): What do you and Luffy want, Dr. Law?

[pg6] panel 38: Law: ...We haven't decided yet. We're giving it to the end of the week. I'm trying to think about it rationally. But I just keep getting emotional any time I talk about it. It's strange.

panel 39: Kaya: An emotional decision and a bad decision aren't inherently synonymous, you know.

panel 40: Law: ...your bedside manner is impeccable, Dr. Kaya-ya. Kaya: Well, thank you! Next time let's meet in the infirmary, mine or yours.

panel 41: Kaya: I'll be your doctor through this, okay?

panel 42: Law: ...Okay...Thank you. Kaya: Of course!

#my art #lawlu #law x luffy #luffy x law #lulaw #cw dysphoria #cw unplanned pregnancy #cw implied discussion of abortion

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winters-rose-daughterofcain · 1 day

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While I'm at it both Colin and Pen are so brave and trusting of each other this season and it's a huge reason why the pacing works for me. This post from @dollypopup goes into detail about the kiss and the bravery it took for Penelope to ask and how important and meaningful it is for her ark (in a far better way than I can), but I think it can translate thought out a lot of what they both do. (Elaborating on this post.)

So much of their relationship is driven by an active want to continue, grow and improve it. They start talking again because Colin notices she's upset and makes the effort to follow her and see what's wrong, they make up after last season because, once again Colin makes the active choice to visit her, apologise, and agree to help her with what she wants. Because there is a baseline there, there is trust and friendship and respect already established from years of knowing each other and the last two seasons. He already values her and cares for her and so makes an effort to maintain their relationship. She trusts him and loves him and knows him well enough to see past this new act, and she accepts his help and apology readily.

Then their lessons happen because they make the effort the seek each other out, Colin actually listens to her about her insecurity and comfort and ranges for them to practise at the Bridgerton house because it was a safe, calm, stress free environment. And it worked, she opened up (as much as she ever dose lol) because he knows her already and she is comfortable enough around him to let her guard down and even let some of her true feelings out, even if unintentionally.

The kiss has already been discussed and said much better than I ever could lol, but it really really is so important. It's not chance or coincidence or force that kickstarts their relationship it's Pen. At one of her lowest moments It's Pen and her choice and her love and her trust and bravery in that moment to ask Colin what she wants and be open and vulnerable in a way she almost never allows herself to be, in a way woman as a whole are punished and looked down on and seen as lesser for doing (clearly, as seen by peoples reactions.) And she is reworded for her bravery by a beautiful, tender, blissful kiss. She wanted to be loved even for a moment and she so aching obviously was.

Then after that they take a break from each other for a little at least in the sense of spending time together, but they continue thinking about each other they entire time.

And in the end, even if it took some help from Violet, it's Colin's actions that lead to that ending. It's hope and bravery and love and desperation that led him storming into that ball half way through and interrupting dances and chasing carriages. It's bravery and vulnerability and trust in Pen, who has always been there for him, always been constant, always been patient and kind and steady, as well as love, that leads to him being able to give a confession like that and her feeling everything in equal parts for him that allows her to actually confess her feeling for him for the first time in the entire show.

Obviously all stories are driven by characters making choices, and outside influence definitely played a role in theirs, but so much of it was them both trusting each other and being brave enough to take a leap of faith and hope to be caught, and they always are. We (I) joke that they're stupid in love and down bad and absolutely unhinged feel loser behaviour abounds, because it's funny and true. But at the heart of it is so much care and unsaid words and bravery that in the end proves worth it because of who they are to each other and how much love is there.

#penelope featherington #colin bridgerton #polin #polin kiss #bridgerton #bridgerton s3 #colin x penelope #I should be asleep but oh well #had to get it out of my system #I have no friends who watch this show so now it's everyones problem #they are truly the only love story ever #and yes all this will make the whistledown stuff worse but I choose to believe it will also help in other ways #but I'm not touching that shit till June so

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thelaithlyworm · 3 days

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Daomu Biji Watcher’s Guide, May 2024

A few new entries have been popping up lately, and I’m always hopeful new fans will stumble into the pits and never leave so I thought I’d paste up a rough map.

(Obviously the best watching order, like the best reading order of Discworld or the Aubrey-Maturin books, is ‘whatever first comes to your hand’ but for the people who don’t like that…)

tl;dr:

Daomu Biji is a series about tomb raiding. Think Indiana Jones or Lara Croft but much, much longer. The protagonist Wu Xie is deeply in love with BFF1 Zhang Qiling, a hundred-year-old cryptid, and BFF2 Wang Pangzi, who was stolen in a raid from another book series. It’s comic, tragic, horrific, zany, prone to musings on life, love, desire, attachment, and has many, many piss jokes. (‘Journey to the West but modern’ is maybe the other comparison I’d make.)

Notes:

– This guide is not talking about “quality”. All of the adaptations have their own strengths and weaknesses and tone can vary a great deal, which is to say, if one of them doesn’t suit you it’s likely something else will.

– Wacky endings, and plot threads that disappear unfinished and get picked up a long time later, are as inherent to the franchise as the piss jokes.

– It’s common for the dramas to introduce characters and subplots a lot earlier than the books do. Sometimes we’ll see a character introduced ‘for the first time’ on multiple occasions and strangely familiar scenes. I’ll try to point out the biggest continuity clashes as I go.

The Soft Entry:

There are a few movies that are entertaining as standalones but will introduce various characters and background. I would recommend:

Escape from the Monstrous Snake + Mystery/Grave of the Abyss – two monster movies featuring Hei Xiazi, a supporting character. He’s a pragmatical mercenary who’s going blind in kind of a weird way, and goofy as hell when he isn’t tiptoeing over a vast abyss of existential dread. So many fun action scenes.

Time Raiders (2015) – so there are some textual clues that late in his career Wu Xie wrote this story as a memory-jogger for an amnesiac friend. The plot is a freewheeling wild ride which doesn’t directly match any book plot but introduces some major characters and how they relate to each other. It’s colourful and fast-moving. Enjoy, enjoy.

Conjuring Curse and Misty Creed are… theoretically set late in the series even if the actors look about twelve. Both work as stand-alone adventures, though Misty Creed is maybe a little deep in the lore. Again, colourful and fast-moving.

The Chronological Order

You could honestly start with most of these – they tend to come with a ‘what has gone before’ at the start or a newbie character that things get explained to. The only one I wouldn’t start with is Heavenly Palace in the Clouds, which is lovely but also the second half of a set and things won’t make sense if you haven’t seen Lost Tomb 2 first.

Lost Tomb 1 – a highly digestible 10-12 episode version of the Seven Star Lu Palace arc, ie. Baby’s First Adventure. Introduces A-Ning, Xie Yuchen, and Huo Xiuxiu early and a couple of og characters for Wu Xie to talk to instead of monologuing to himself. The restaurant scene at the end was raided from a later arc and you’ll see it again in Ultimate Note. A book character, Da Kui, was cut which is a small problem because how he died is a minor plot point discussed in Lost Tomb 2.

Lost Tomb 2 – covers Raging Sea, Hidden Sands (underwater tomb) and Qinling God-Tree (weird bronze tree in the mountains) plus a whole lotta side stories and original content exploring the world and foreshadowing later plots. Mooostly in continuity with Lost Tomb 1 (see Da Kui above) and made as a set with Heavenly Palace in the Clouds – they share resources and a lot of actors, and some threads begun here are finished in Heavenly Palace.

Heavenly Palace in the Clouds – covers the Mt Changbai arc, a journey up a mountain to find a very old, very grand tomb. This was made so close to Lost Tomb 2 that LT2 borrows shots from Heavenly Palace and not the other way around, which is fascinating because it pointedly contradicts the last five episodes of LT2. It also brings forward some plotlines originally from the Tamutuo and Zhang Family Old Pavilion arcs (San-shu’s past in the underwater tomb, and the Huo Family videotapes) dragging some characters on-screen and forcing them to talk about their feelings, which they would clearly rather die than do. Given those plot-tweaks and the early, deliberate continuity clash, I’m tempted to call this a Canon Parallel Universe. Got some interestingly chewy character dynamics and luverly, luverly set design.

Mystic Nine – This is a prequel about Zhang Qishan – Fo-ye – and his peers, but later dramas expect us to know who Fo-ye was so I’m sticking it here. Kinda… picaresque? Lots of action scenes and Republican-era flavour and various factions jostling for power – kinda feels like an old-school wuxia story, only set in the 1930s with all that glorious Republican-era styling. Has some unfortunate cut scenes – the details of how Fo-ye recovered at his family’s house don’t make a lot of sense in the aired version, and there are a couple of missing fights in the penultimate episode. Shrug. Still a lot of fun. Comes with four side movies about supporting characters.

Ultimate Note – Covers the Tamutuo arc (a trip through the jungle) and two-thirds of the Zhang Family Old Pavilion arc (investigating Zhang Qiling’s past is like kicking a hornet’s nest). Very, very flirty and has some zippy-zip action choreography. Politely ignores Lost Tomb 1–Heavenly Palace continuity (Xie Yuchen is, once more, introduced for the first time, now with a romantically coded friendship arc) and brings in a lot of cameos from Mystic Nine and Sand Sea, which it was filmed after. Kinda tiptoes around parts of the book plot, which I suspect would be hard for anyone to film, re: Fo-ye’s actions in the 1960s. Fair warning, this ends on a cliffhanger. This is also where the Xinyue Restaurant scene appears again – two cakes!

Tibetan Sea Flower – If Tibetan Sea Flower ever airs, it will go here.

Sand Sea – Based on the Sand Sea novel. After Tibetan Sea Flower, Wu Xie goes into a bit of a decline and makes that the world’s problem. We the audience, plus Li Cu and Liang Wan, EDIT: a lovely doctor, are pretty much dropped in media res into a number of ancient conspiracies and complicated plots coming to a head in the manner of a boil. It’s weird; it’s messy; it’s mad fun. Like Mystic Nine, has a lot of factions jostling for power and colourful jianghu characters. We will, once more, see the Xinyue Restaurant scene. Also has some side movies.

Time Raiders – The textual hints that suggest Wu Xie wrote this, suggest he wrote it around Sand Sea-era, when his life was a bit complicated. I’m putting it after Sand Sea because I believe it caps a conversation that, ah, doesn’t quite make it into the drama. But notionally this is where it should go. Ah…. at one point, someone tells a story about an ancient ruler, King Mu of Zhou, who sought immortality from the Queen of the West in Tamutuo. The longer book conversation suggests that a) King Mu of Zhou engineered a “trap” for someone like Wu Xie to fall into in the future, and b) that Iron Mask Scholar, a villain from Lost Tomb 1, was an alias that King Mu of Zhou used in the Warring States Era. Which makes some of Iron Mask Scholar’s appearances in Time Raiders… interesting.

Reunion: Sound of Providence – sometimes known as Reboot. Having peaked in badassery in Sand Sea, Wu Xie has to consider what his life is going to be now, and also, he would like to track down a missing family member. So this was tweaked to make it more accessible to new viewers (so some parts of the back-story are not mentioned or conflated for simplicity) and that mostly works but I did find watching this first and then picking up the earlier dramas a bit of a mindscrew. Zhu Yilong is, however, a powerful draw and the rest of the cast sparkles. Probably best to think of Season 1 as two short seasons jammed together, which is to say, once the Warehouse 11 arc starts there are a number of characters who won’t reappear until Season 2. It’s a fun arc even so. Season 2 ends with a badass action scene and then a big party, which I think is a great way to end a story.

Escape from the Monstrous Snake, Mystery/Grave of the Abyss, Conjuring Curse, Misty Creed – these are all theoretically set around or after Reboot-era, though they can certainly be watched as stand-alones.

#daomu biji #dmbj #the lost tomb #lost tomb 2 #heavenly palace in the clouds #mystic nine #ultimate note #sand sea #sound of providence #conjuring curse #misty creed #escape from the monstrous snake #mystery of the abyss

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