#I've since discovered that these can be posted to AO3

[archaeren]

How I learned to write smarter, not harder

(aka, how to write when you're hella ADHD lol)

A reader commented on my current long fic asking how I write so well. I replied with an essay of my honestly pretty non-standard writing advice (that they probably didn't actually want lol) Now I'm gonna share it with you guys and hopefully there's a few of you out there who will benefit from my past mistakes and find some useful advice in here. XD Since I started doing this stuff, which are all pretty easy changes to absorb into your process if you want to try them, I now almost never get writer's block.

The text of the original reply is indented, and I've added some additional commentary to expand upon and clarify some of the concepts.

As for writing well, I usually attribute it to the fact that I spent roughly four years in my late teens/early 20s writing text roleplay with a friend for hours every single day. Aside from the constant practice that provided, having a live audience immediately reacting to everything I wrote made me think a lot about how to make as many sentences as possible have maximum impact so that I could get that kind of fun reaction. (Which is another reason why comments like yours are so valuable to fanfic writers! <3) The other factors that have improved my writing are thus: 1. Writing nonlinearly. I used to write a whole story in order, from the first sentence onward. If there was a part I was excited to write, I slogged through everything to get there, thinking that it would be my reward once I finished everything that led up to that. It never worked. XD It was miserable. By the time I got to the part I wanted to write, I had beaten the scene to death in my head imagining all the ways I could write it, and it a) no longer interested me and b) could not live up to my expectations because I couldn't remember all my ideas I'd had for writing it. The scene came out mediocre and so did everything leading up to it. Since then, I learned through working on VN writing (I co-own a game studio and we have some visual novels that I write for) that I don't have to write linearly. If I'm inspired to write a scene, I just write it immediately. It usually comes out pretty good even in a first draft! But then I also have it for if I get more ideas for that scene later, and I can just edit them in. The scenes come out MUCH stronger because of this. And you know what else I discovered? Those scenes I slogged through before weren't scenes I had no inspiration for, I just didn't have any inspiration for them in that moment! I can't tell you how many times there was a scene I had no interest in writing, and then a week later I'd get struck by the perfect inspiration for it! Those are scenes I would have done a very mediocre job on, and now they can be some of the most powerful scenes because I gave them time to marinate. Inspiration isn't always linear, so writing doesn't have to be either!

Some people are the type that joyfully write linearly. I have a friend like this--she picks up the characters and just continues playing out the next scene. Her story progresses through the entire day-by-day lives of the characters; it never timeskips more than a few hours. She started writing and posting just eight months ago, she's about an eighth of the way through her planned fic timeline, and the content she has so far posted to AO3 for it is already 450,000 words long. But most of us are normal humans. We're not, for the most part, wired to create linearly. We consume linearly, we experience linearly, so we assume we must also create linearly. But actually, a lot of us really suffer from trying to force ourselves to create this way, and we might not even realize it. If you're the kind of person who thinks you need to carrot-on-a-stick yourself into writing by saving the fun part for when you finally write everything that happens before it: Stop. You're probably not a linear writer. You're making yourself suffer for no reason and your writing is probably suffering for it. At least give nonlinear writing a try before you assume you can't write if you're not baiting or forcing yourself into it!! Remember: Writing is fun. You do this because it's fun, because it's your hobby. If you're miserable 80% of the time you're doing it, you're probably doing it wrong!

2. Rereading my own work. I used to hate reading my own work. I wouldn't even edit it usually. I would write it and slap it online and try not to look at it again. XD Writing nonlinearly forced me to start rereading because I needed to make sure scenes connected together naturally and it also made it easier to get into the headspace of the story to keep writing and fill in the blanks and get new inspiration. Doing this built the editing process into my writing process--I would read a scene to get back in the headspace, dislike what I had written, and just clean it up on the fly. I still never ever sit down to 'edit' my work. I just reread it to prep for writing and it ends up editing itself. Many many scenes in this fic I have read probably a dozen times or more! (And now, I can actually reread my own work for enjoyment!) Another thing I found from doing this that it became easy to see patterns and themes in my work and strengthen them. Foreshadowing became easy. Setting up for jokes or plot points became easy. I didn't have to plan out my story in advance or write an outline, because the scenes themselves because a sort of living outline on their own. (Yes, despite all the foreshadowing and recurring thematic elements and secret hidden meanings sprinkled throughout this story, it actually never had an outline or a plan for any of that. It's all a natural byproduct of writing nonlinearly and rereading.)

Unpopular writing opinion time: You don't need to make a detailed outline.

Some people thrive on having an outline and planning out every detail before they sit down to write. But I know for a lot of us, we don't know how to write an outline or how to use it once we've written it. The idea of making one is daunting, and the advice that it's the only way to write or beat writer's block is demoralizing. So let me explain how I approach "outlining" which isn't really outlining at all.

I write in a Notion table, where every scene is a separate table entry and the scene is written in the page inside that entry. I do this because it makes writing nonlinearly VASTLY more intuitive and straightforward than writing in a single document. (If you're familiar with Notion, this probably makes perfect sense to you. If you're not, imagine something a little like a more contained Google Sheets, but every row has a title cell that opens into a unique Google Doc when you click on it. And it's not as slow and clunky as the Google suite lol) (Edit from the future: I answered an ask with more explanation on how I use Notion for non-linear writing here.) When I sit down to begin a new fic idea, I make a quick entry in the table for every scene I already know I'll want or need, with the entries titled with a couple words or a sentence that describes what will be in that scene so I'll remember it later. Basically, it's the most absolute bare-bones skeleton of what I vaguely know will probably happen in the story.

Then I start writing, wherever I want in the list. As I write, ideas for new scenes and new connections and themes will emerge over time, and I'll just slot them in between the original entries wherever they naturally fit, rearranging as necessary, so that I won't forget about them later when I'm ready to write them. As an example, my current long fic started with a list of roughly 35 scenes that I knew I wanted or needed, for a fic that will probably be around 100k words (which I didn't know at the time haha). As of this writing, it has expanded to 129 scenes. And since I write them directly in the page entries for the table, the fic is actually its own outline, without any additional effort on my part. As I said in the comment reply--a living outline!

This also made it easier to let go of the notion that I had to write something exactly right the first time. (People always say you should do this, but how many of us do? It's harder than it sounds! I didn't want to commit to editing later! I didn't want to reread my work! XD) I know I'm going to edit it naturally anyway, so I can feel okay giving myself permission to just write it approximately right and I can fix it later. And what I found from that was that sometimes what I believed was kind of meh when I wrote it was actually totally fine when I read it later! Sometimes the internal critic is actually wrong. 3. Marinating in the headspace of the story. For the first two months I worked on [fic], I did not consume any media other than [fandom the fic is in]. I didn't watch, read, or play anything else. Not even mobile games. (And there wasn't really much fan content for [fandom] to consume either. Still isn't, really. XD) This basically forced me to treat writing my story as my only source of entertainment, and kept me from getting distracted or inspired to write other ideas and abandon this one.

As an aside, I don't think this is a necessary step for writing, but if you really want to be productive in a short burst, I do highly recommend going on a media consumption hiatus. Not forever, obviously! Consuming media is a valuable tool for new inspiration, and reading other's work (both good and bad, as long as you think critically to identify the differences!) is an invaluable resource for improving your writing.

When I write, I usually lay down, close my eyes, and play the scene I'm interested in writing in my head. I even take a ten-minute nap now and then during this process. (I find being in a state of partial drowsiness, but not outright sleepiness, makes writing easier and better. Sleep helps the brain process and make connections!) Then I roll over to the laptop next to me and type up whatever I felt like worked for the scene. This may mean I write half a sentence at a time between intervals of closed-eye-time XD

People always say if you're stuck, you need to outline.

What they actually mean by that (whether they realize it or not) is that if you're stuck, you need to brainstorm. You need to marinate. You don't need to plan what you're doing, you just need to give yourself time to think about it!

What's another framing for brainstorming for your fic? Fantasizing about it! Planning is work, but fantasizing isn't.

You're already fantasizing about it, right? That's why you're writing it. Just direct that effort toward the scenes you're trying to write next! Close your eyes, lay back, and fantasize what the characters do and how they react.

And then quickly note down your inspirations so you don't forget, haha.

And if a scene is so boring to you that even fantasizing about it sucks--it's probably a bad scene.

If it's boring to write, it's going to be boring to read. Ask yourself why you wanted that scene. Is it even necessary? Can you cut it? Can you replace it with a different scene that serves the same purpose but approaches the problem from a different angle? If you can't remove the troublesome scene, what can you change about it that would make it interesting or exciting for you to write?

And I can't write sitting up to save my damn life. It's like my brain just stops working if I have to sit in a chair and stare at a computer screen. I need to be able to lie down, even if I don't use it! Talking walks and swinging in a hammock are also fantastic places to get scene ideas worked out, because the rhythmic motion also helps our brain process. It's just a little harder to work on a laptop in those scenarios. XD

In conclusion: Writing nonlinearly is an amazing tool for kicking writer's block to the curb. There's almost always some scene you'll want to write. If there isn't, you need to re-read or marinate.

Or you need to use the bathroom, eat something, or sleep. XD Seriously, if you're that stuck, assess your current physical condition. You might just be unable to focus because you're uncomfortable and you haven't realized it yet.

Anyway! I hope that was helpful, or at least interesting! XD Sorry again for the text wall. (I think this is the longest comment reply I've ever written!)

And same to you guys on tumblr--I hope this was helpful or at least interesting. XD Reblogs appreciated if so! (Maybe it'll help someone else!)

[locallepidoptera]

i've since finished my catch up. and now i'm both happier for it and incredibly sad there's not more. such is life. man. fans' fiction fucking rocks. and i needed a reminder. i'm on my way to reread. wishing you so much luck in all your endeavors!! thanks for being an inspiration!!

happy almost christmas. means it wasn't christmas :)) i had been listening to a new aa1 playthrough to pass the time and it reminded me that. unfortunately. i do think edgeworth is cool (i talk in jest. about it being unfortunate. lol. i'm just not into "cool" charas usually) and it reminded me that i. really need to catch up with saturation. hell maybe reread it once i'm done. i'm in need of good fic. i'm not really a quality snob usually but i've found i just don't have the energy right now to search through the main tag. and your style of writing lets me turn my brain off. < - positive connotation. if that wasn't clear.

^U^ Thanks, and Merry Actually Christmas! ;D And XD, no worries, I get it - Edgeworth is very much one of those "Unfortunately, I'm into it" characters in regards to his everything. And I say that as someone who's writing him one of the world's longest love letters in the form of a fic that's going to break 300k when the next chapter goes up and a tidy (if tiny) little AA merch collection that I'm quite proud of, if I do say so myself. ;)

"and your style of writing lets me turn my brain off" Good, wild as it may sound for a slowburn mega!fic, Saturation's meant to be a nice comfy read, so that you're able to switch off and just enjoy the fic is good. Like, I'm trying to ensure that there's plenty to be found on a deeper read, because I enjoy doing that, but if it's not enjoyable to partake in on purely the surface level, what's even the point? Anyway, thanks for the ask, and I hope you have fun on the catch-up/reread! ^U^

[joelscruff]

feelings on fire (joel miller x f!reader) 18+ PART FIVE

previous chapters | kofi | i'm honestly amazed that i actually completed this chapter today; as a lot of yall know i've been dealing with a lot of shitty life stuff lately and part of me expected this to not even get posted this month. and yet!! here we are. thank you to everyone who has been so supportive and amazing, this chapter is for you and i hope you like it 💖 chapter summary: you're starting to feel a bit insecure about your relationship with joel. perhaps a late night visit to his house is what you need 👀 rating: 18+ explicit warnings: age difference (reader is in her 20s, joel in his 50s), innocent/inexperienced reader, corruption, praise kink (joel calls reader babygirl, sweetheart, etc), dirty talk, mentions of religion (reader’s family are very catholic), fingering, handjobs, comeplay word count: 9k (woops) ao3

The rest of the week goes by gruelingly slow. Joel is busy every day and has barely any time to talk, so you mainly communicate through texts. The "conversations" are slow and broken, Joel only able to text when he has a free moment, which doesn't seem to be very often. You don't talk on the phone again, as much as you want to hear his voice, and you don't sext again either. It's a bit weird, a bit confusing, but you navigate it as best you can. It's not like he's ignoring you, he always responds, but it's just not the same as that first day.

you still wanna do this, right?

You type it around midnight on Thursday, hands trembling a bit as you hover over the send button. In one way you're afraid to ask him, afraid to seem clingy or young or inexperienced; but you're all of those things. When he's actually talking to you directly there's no fear, no question about what he wants, but going so long without hearing his voice makes you more and more insecure about what exactly he's thinking.

You erase the first message and start to type another one:

i know you're busy but

You shake your head and erase that one too. This is so stupid. Of course he still wants you, you idiot.

He'd said he was okay with the lie you'd told, had even said he would actually teach you guitar now too, but you're an overthinker, always have been. You can't help but feel dread whirling around in the pit of your stomach; he wants to end it, it's too complicated now. You've turned something sexy and fun into something ridiculous and unnecessary.

You lock your phone without sending anything and roll around in bed a bit, trying to sleep. Your thoughts make it impossible though, nagging at the front of your mind worse than your parents. You sit up and slide the tip of your thumb into your mouth, biting down in thought and staring at the blank screen of your phone.

What if you just...

are you home?

He hadn't sent you anything earlier to confirm he'd gotten back; you've discovered over the past few days that contractors really like to drink after their shift. Joel's been at the bar every night since that first day, often 'til late; you have to admit, it makes you a bit jealous to imagine Joel and his contracting crew out having a great time while you're laying in your childhood bed with a curfew. Bar hopping and partying has never appealed to you before, at least not when your college friends did it, but now the thought of it doesn't seem so bad. Not if you were doing it with him...

Your phone buzzes and you feel excitement burst through you at his reply:

Got in about 10 minutes ago, didn't think you'd be up. You okay?

You soften at his concern, cheeks warming. You don't hesitate, knowing if you think too much about it you'll end up changing your mind. You type your your response and hit send before you can talk yourself out of it.

can i come over?

You stare at the screen with bated breath, watching as his typing bubble appears. It takes barely any time at all for him to reply:

Of course you can. Door's unlocked.

--

Sneaking out of your house is much easier than you thought it'd be. You've never done it before, had almost expected the bottom half of your house to suddenly have some kind of security system with lasers and cameras, but nope. Nothing out of the ordinary.

You're wearing one of your old nightdresses, pink and frilly; you'd opted to start wearing them again the other day, liking the way they made you feel, accentuating your legs and breasts like your old Sunday school dress. You'd changed quickly every morning before going downstairs to save your parents from the heart attacks they'd have seeing you with so little skin coverage. But there's no need to change now, not with where you're going. You yank on a jacket and sneakers and carefully open and close the front door, scurrying out into the cool night air.

Joel's house isn't far, just a street over. You try not to run, as much as you want to; you know you'll end up all sweaty and messy haired - the opposite of how you'd like to portray yourself tonight, but your skin is practically glowing with anticipation. You hold the short hem of your nightdress down as you speed walk through the dark suburban streets of your neighborhood.

Your heart starts pounding when his house comes into view; the living room window is dimly lit. You jog up the front steps and take a deep breath before turning the handle, smiling to yourself when it opens easily; he'd really left the door unlocked for you.

"Mr. Miller?" you call in a hushed tone, shutting the door behind you and turning the lock.

He emerges from the living room and you feel your eyes widen. All he's wearing is a pair of loose fitting plaid pajama pants; nothing else. No shirt, no socks, and probably no underwear. You swallow, eyes trailing up and down the naked solidness of his chest, the greying hair smattered along the skin. He's got a softness to him, a bit of a pudgy belly that makes you want to smile, but his rugged sexiness is even more apparent. His strong pecs, freckled arms, the hair trailing down his stomach and into his pajama pants... it suddenly leaves you unable to breathe or form a coherent thought.

"There's my girl," he says, voice low and husky; he must have talked a lot today, called people's names, ordered them around, "C'mere."

Your brain is still muddled and awestruck as you feel yourself rush forward, arms immediately wrapping around his bare torso. His skin is softer than you'd thought it'd be, warm under your touch as you carefully press your cheek to his chest. You feel the scratch of hair against your skin, reminding you of his age; fifty six. The thought gives you an ache between your legs.

He holds you close and rubs your back, presses a kiss to the top of your head. Your eyes flutter closed at his touch, fingers splaying across the wide span of his back. You find yourself able to breathe again, but all you inhale is his scent, fresh and masculine. It's then that you realize his skin is slightly damp, peppered here and there with little droplets of water.

"I just got out of the shower," he says quietly, answering your unspoken question, "Was about to get in bed when you texted but I figured if you were comin' over I should clean myself up a bit."

You hum against his chest, still not sure exactly what to say. The ache between your legs is growing stronger the more you stand here in his embrace; somehow you hadn't expected to feel this way just from hugging him, although you probably should have guessed.

"I wanna get in your bed," you say softly, opening your eyes again and pulling back to look at him. His expression says it all, eyes going dark as they fall to your lips.

"Then let's get in my bed," he murmurs, just as quiet.

--

The last time you were in Joel's bedroom there'd been more of a sense of urgency, when he'd sat with you in his lap on the edge of his bed and held you open in front of the mirror. Now things are much slower, more quiet. You slip in behind him and unzip your jacket, taking it off and hanging it carefully on the hook behind his door.

"That's pretty," he says behind you, and you feel him reach out to gently touch the pink material, hand ghosting the bare skin of your chest. Your breath hitches and he smiles, "Tiny little thing, isn't it?"

"I've had it for a long time, I thought you might like it."

"I do," he pulls you toward him, then reaches his hands up to thumb the thin straps of the nightdress. You watch with hooded eyes as he slowly pushes them off your shoulders, "I'm gonna take it off though, that okay?"

Your brow furrows; he notices your reaction and his hands freeze, "Not okay?" he asks, confused slightly.

"N-no, it's okay," you say quickly, "I just... I'm still a little self conscious."

His eyes widen slightly and he shakes his head, "You have nothin' to be self conscious about, sweetheart," he reassures you, "I wanna see you..." he pushes the straps down your shoulders and you stand there trembling slightly as he pulls the dress down, exposing your breasts to him, "There you are."

You shiver a bit under his gaze, but not out of discomfort or fear. You feel safe with him; you know he'd never do anything you didn't consent to. You're just not exactly sure what you want, what exactly you've really come here for. Before you'd left the house you'd been so afraid that he was losing interest, already getting tired of you; now he stares at you like you're some kind of rare gem, making you feel bashful and beautiful under his gaze.

"I wanna touch you," you whisper, the shakiness of your voice betraying your nervousness - or anticipation.

His hands freeze for a few seconds but he regains composure quickly, tugging the dress down further until it's cascading down your legs, putting you completely on display. He swallows audibly, taking you in. You look at his face and feel yourself pulse under his gaze, the way he's staring directly at your bare pussy.

"Let's get in bed," he murmurs, "I think there's a few things we can touch."

His words send a buzzing warmth through your body and you cross your legs unconsciously, an action that makes him smirk. You turn away from him with heat flooding your cheeks as you climb into his bed; it's large and comfortable, but you already know neither of you will be taking advantage of the big space. You sit up against his headboard and pull the duvet up over yourself, hiding your breasts from view - as if he hasn't already seen them.

"I'll keep these on" he says softly, tugging at the band of his pajama pants, "Don't worry."

Your heart leaps to your throat and you nod quickly - probably too quickly. It's not that you're scared to see him naked; you've already seen both halves now and that's taken away a lot of the fear, but the concept of being in bed together, both naked... you're not sure you're ready yet. And you're glad he understands that without you having to say it out loud.

You watch as he climbs into bed and positions himself up against the headboard like you, scooches in next to you so your sides are touching. His skin against yours is unlike anything you've felt with him up until this point; he's so warm, a firm and large presence at your side that immediately has you feeling intimidated. Your nerves are already beginning to set alight just by having him so close. You open your mouth to speak but are unable to say anything when he inches even closer, his bare waist pressing firmly against yours.

"Hey, you're okay," he breathes, reaching up to gently thumb your cheek in a calming motion, brow furrowing slightly, "You don't gotta be nervous, sweetheart, it's only me."

"I'm not nervous," you whisper back, and while you're not exactly being honest there's certainly something else you're feeling, "I'm just..." you cross your legs again under the duvet, "I'm getting really wet."

He makes an odd sound in the back of his throat that makes you smile a little, cheeks burning under his gaze. He reaches over and slowly pushes the blankets down from your loose grip, exposing you to him once again. He moves his hand down, fingertips trailing along your bare chest until carefully bringing one of your breasts into his palm and squeezing gently.

"You don't gotta hide these from me, darlin'," he murmurs, thumb dragging across your nipple, sending tingles throughout your body, "They're too pretty to stay outta sight."

You shiver when he carefully tweaks your nipple between his fingers, his gaze firmly set on his movements. You watch together as he plays with it, toys with it, rolls it between thumb and forefinger. The warm and tight feeling sends an odd tingling sensation from your breast to your pussy, like they're connected somehow.

"I'm gonna put this in my mouth," he says softly, "Suck on it a little bit, that okay?"

You can't help but feel a bit unsure, biting your lip, "Is that... does it feel good to do that?"

He nods up at you, thumbing your nipple again slowly, "Feels really good, I promise. You got a lot of nerves here, just like your pussy. Really sensitive."

Your eyes are hazy as you nod to him slowly, "Th-that sounds nice."

At your words he leans his head down and brings your nipple into his mouth, dropping his fingers and replacing his thumb with the warm suction of his lips. You gasp out in surprise, hand coming up to immediately cup the back of his head.

You've never felt anything like this; the suction of his mouth is so new and strange, that tingling sensation returning as you cross your legs tighter and whimper aloud as he sucks your nipple. His tongue is wet and warm, tracing the shape of you in little circles, while his free hand comes up to squeeze your other breast, tweak it with his fingers. Your breath begins to come out raggedly, brow furrowing and legs tightening together as he suckles.

"Oh my god," you hear yourself whimper, hand tightening in his hair, "Why does that feel so good?"

He pulls off your nipple with a quiet laugh, peering up at you, "Yeah, you like the way that feels, babygirl?"

You nod quickly, swallowing and trying to get your breath back, "Yes," you whisper, "A lot."

He smiles at that, "Then how 'bout you lay back for me?"

It's an offer that's impossible to refuse. You quickly pull yourself down from the headboard and slip beneath the covers, head coming to rest on one of his pillows. He slips under as well, then very slowly positions himself on top of you, a leg on either side of your trembling form. You look up at him with wide eyes, unsure whether you're more nervous or excited.

"You're okay," he reassures you again, inching downward a bit and pressing a few gentle kisses to your neck, "Gotta be on top to do this right, so it feels good."

You nod slowly, "I c-can feel..."

"What?" he whispers, "What do you feel?"

Your arms are loose at your sides and Joel's are pinned above you, but there's an unmistakable feeling of something prodding into your thigh, large and thick.

"Your cock," you manage to whisper, voice trembling, "I think."

"That's right," he murmurs, "It's 'cause I'm gettin' hard from suckin' you like that, touchin' you," he trails his fingers down your sides gently, making you shiver, "You like feelin' it there?"

You feel yourself slowly nodding, eyes going even more hazy and hooded, "I wanna touch it."

"I know you do," he whispers, "I want you to touch it too, sweetheart. But I'm gonna play with you a little longer," he leans his face down and licks a small stripe against your other nipple, making your hips buck, "Then I'll teach you how to touch it, that alright?"

"Yes," you breathe, "Please."

"You like when I play with you, don't you?" he murmurs against your breast, then captures your other nipple in his mouth and starts to suck.

"Y-yes," you repeat, hand coming up again to tangle in his hair, already overwhelmed by the sensation, "I missed it."

He hums, sending another cascade of tingles throughout your body. To think that less than half an hour ago you were laying in bed wondering if he still wanted you; now you're naked and he's on top of you with his mouth on your breast. How is this your life?

"What did'ya miss?" he pulls off for barely a few seconds, scruff scratching perfectly against your sensitive skin, "Tell me, babygirl, wanna know what you've been thinkin' about."

You whimper when he goes back to suckling, your fingers threading through his greying curls. It's hard to get your thoughts straight when he's making you feel like this, every tight suck and wet lick going directly to your aching core.

"J-just missed you touching me," you breathe, voice rough and wanton with pleasure, "Missed your hands on me, your fingers..."

At your words he carefully brings one of his hands downward, caressing your body gently as he goes. Your breath hitches when he swipes his middle and index finger down your wet seam, urging you to open up for him. You uncross your trembling legs, looking down to watch as he continues to suck on your breast while his fingers dip down to your wetness.

"Inside," you whisper, finishing your thought but almost giving him a command at the same time; he doesn't hesitate, immediately pushing both fingers past your entrance and slipping them inside your throbbing hole, "Fuck," you whimper, closing your eyes and throwing your head back, "Like that."

You can feel the head of his cock through his pajama pants, pulsing against your thigh, leaving a sticky spot in the fabric. The fact that he's getting hard just by doing this to you, getting wet in his own way, it just turns you on even more.

He pulls off your breast with a wet pop and tilts his head up to look at you, pressing little kisses around your nipple and then pulling himself up a bit to hover over you. You feel his clothed cock prod your lower belly and you shiver again.

"Wanted to be full again, huh?" he murmurs, eyes dark, "Missed havin' these big fingers inside you?"

You nod and tug at his curls, urging him to lean his face down toward you. He takes the hint immediately, smirking a bit before reaching down to press his lips to yours and kiss you hungrily. You sigh into his mouth, contentment and arousal flooding through you as he slowly pushes his fingers in and out of you. Your hand moves from his hair to cup his jaw, loving the feeling of his beard beneath your fingers.

"Wanna know what I missed?" he asks against your lips, voice deep and breathy, "Missed this tiny little hole, so tight, all for me," at his words he curls the tips of his fingers inside of you, making you emit a loud whimper that makes him grin, "That's right, takin' my fingers so well, angel. Bet you could take three now," you feel another one of his fingers prod you alongside his others, "You want that, babygirl? Want three of those big fingers?"

You swallow nervously but slowly nod, tugging your bottom lip into your mouth, "Yes, Mr. Miller," you whimper, "Wanna be full."

"Good girl," he murmurs, brushing his nose lightly against yours, "You're such a good girl, aren't you?"

You hear the sounds you're making but you're not quite sure where they're coming from or how you're making them; you sound pathetic and breathless as he fucks you with his fingers, teases the third at your hole and leans down to kiss you again. His tongue slips past your lips and you feel the vibration of your own moans in his mouth when his thumb gently teases your clit.

"There you go, angel," he mutters against your lips as his third finger breaches your entrance, slowly pushes past the other two, "Thaaat's it, babygirl."

You tremble underneath him, feeling your body tense up at the new intrusion. You've had three of your own fingers inside yourself, but not three of his, long and thick and so much bigger than your own. You hear your whimpers turn into cries as his fingers fill you up, your own hands coming up to grip his back, nails digging into the skin.

"Shhh," he soothes, trailing more kisses along your face in an attempt to relax you, "You're okay, sweetheart, you're okay." And you are okay, being underneath him like this, being entirely at his mercy as he pushes your limits, helps you discover something new. It burns a bit, stretches and pulls and stings, but he talks you through it, whispers reassuring words in your ear, and you know you're safe.

He stills once all three fingers are deep inside, then pulls himself up a bit to look at you, pushing a stray hair behind your ear and peering down with a soft expression despite the depraved circumstances.

"How's that feel?" he whispers, voice gentle and soothing, "Tell me."

You're still making whimpering noises, shaky and quiet, but you're able to reply with the only word you can bring to the front of your mind: "Full."

He smiles down at you, brushes his nose against yours, "You did so good, angel," he murmurs, eyes not leaving yours, "I'm prouda you."

He knows what he's doing with that phrase; immediately you feel yourself loosen beneath him, hands going slightly limp against his back. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth and slowly begins to move his fingers again, pumping them in and out at an even pace.

It's amazing. It's so different than just two fingers, so much bigger and fuller - you've never felt anything like it; something so dirty but somehow passionate and warm. He kisses you as he fucks you with them, hovering over you with his hot skin emanating onto yours, wisps of hair from his chest and stomach tickling you everywhere. He thumbs your clit again and you moan loudly against his lips, your orgasm swelling in your belly as your hands tangle in his hair and pull him closer.

"You gonna come, angel?" he asks you softly, sweetly, pulling back a bit to stare deeply into your wide eyes, "Yeah, you're gonna come on those big fingers, huh? Can feel your pussy gettin' all tight around me, she wants it so bad doesn't she?"

You moan even louder as you frantically nod, "Yes, gonna come, gonna come," you cry out, overwhelmed by the thickness of his fingers and the way he's looking at you, the way he's talking to you; everything is just him.

"That's right, give it to me, sweet girl," he urges you, plunging into you faster and faster as his thumb rotates mercilessly against your clit, "Make a mess for me, soak those fingers, there you go."

You keen, high and borderline ridiculous as you stiffen beneath him and begin to shake, pitiful sounds escaping your mouth as you come. He fucks you through it, watching your face every step of the way and not stopping his movements until you've come down completely. You lay beneath him, chest heaving and eyes closing involuntarily as he strokes your thigh tenderly, reassuringly. He keeps his fingers lodged deep inside of you, not moving but simply keeping you full as you come down from your orgasm; you find yourself hoping he doesn't pull them out just yet.

"Can I show you somethin'?" he asks softly, and you open your eyes to find him still peering down at your face. You can't speak, can only nod as you bite down on your lip and try to catch your breath, your entire brain focused solely on the way his fingers feel inside you. As if he can read your mind, he's suddenly pulling them out and bringing them up to hover between the two of you.

Your brow furrows in confusion, suddenly feeling beyond empty as you pout up at him. He just chuckles to himself, still holding his three fingers - wet and glistening - in front of you while his other hand reaches down to the waistband of his pajama pants. Your eyes go wide, lips parting a bit as you look from his face to where his hand is and back again.

Without words from either of you, he slowly reaches inside and pulls out his cock, thick and dripping. You make a weird sound in the back of your throat, sitting up slightly as you peer at it with wonder. He's showed it to you before, it's nothing new, and yet...

"That's about the same width, wouldn't you say?" he asks you quietly, bringing his dripping fingers down to his hard cock and aligning them side by side; he's right - the thickness of all three of his fingers is relatively similar to the thickness of his cock. There's certainly different aspects - the length being the main difference - but the overall width is pretty spot on.

"Y-yeah," you say softly, eyes glued to it, "Pretty close."

You watch as he carefully drags his fingers along the thick length of his cock, still soaked with your release. He spreads your juices along it with his thumb and fingers, fists it gently and very slowly fucks his fist once. Your eyes are hooded and dark, saliva beginning to pool inside your mouth for reasons you can't even begin to understand.

"You just took three fingers," he continues, thumb tracing the base of his wide tip, "So wouldn't you say that answers a question you've been worryin' your pretty little head about?"

Your eyebrows scrunch together, trying to figure out what he means. It's hard to focus on absolutely anything else when his dick is right there in front of you, practically begging to be touched, the fat head pulsing and drooling under your gaze.

"Oh, this is gonna be a problem, isn't it?" he says, amused as he continues to slowly stroke himself, "Can't even think when there's a cock in front of you, huh?"

The words snap you back to reality, but only slightly. You smile sheepishly as you will yourself to look up at his face and away from his dick, "Wh-what question, Mr. Miller?"

He chuckles, "You were afraid it wouldn't fit inside you, babygirl," he reminds you gently, "But it will, we just proved that."

Your brain slowly makes sense of what he's saying and you can't help but feel a wave of relief wash over you; he's right. It had burned a bit, been uncomfortable for a moment or two, but ultimately you'd been able to take all three and enjoy it. You feel a smile spread across your face, and you notice his eyes soften slightly as he looks at you.

"You're right," you say breathlessly, smile still wide, "I did it, didn't I?"

His expression softens even more and he smiles back at you, laughing quietly to himself. He opens his mouth to say something but then seems to think better of it, pulling one of his legs back and moving to sit beside you on the bed instead of over you. Your brow furrows a bit in confusion.

"What is it?"

He just shakes his head, still smiling softly to himself, "Nothin', you're just... you're adorable."

Your cheeks warm at that, unable to help feeling a little self conscious. Now that you've come down from your orgasm you're suddenly hyperaware of your nakedness, of the fact that he can see every inch of your body. You draw the covers up around yourself quickly, hoping he won't mind.

"Such a shy little thing," he murmurs softly, but makes no move to pull the blankets down again like he had before, just watches you with a smile as your gaze slowly falls back to where he's hard and aching.

"Can I...?" you can't bring yourself to say the words, feeling flustered and nervous at the very thought. He just nods and reaches over to touch your hand, strokes your trembling fingers in his grip.

You watch as he carefully maneuvers your hand toward his crotch and slowly places your hand on his cock. Your fingers curl around his girth almost instinctively, imitating what you've seen him do before. Your lips part, breath hitching as your skin touches his most intimate area, a place on a man you never thought you'd ever be able to feel, at least not until you were married.

It's soft. Not in terms of arousal but just in texture, a silky and smooth feeling you hadn't been expecting. You stare down at your own hand in slight awe as your thumb gently strokes along his shaft, brow furrowing at how different it is than what you'd imagined. It's surprisingly just a body part, just an extension of Joel that usually remains hidden and secret; it's not as scary or intimidating when you can touch it like this, play with it like he plays with you.

"Wow," you say softly, barely aware of it as your fist ever so slowly moves along his length, pumps him just once in that hypnotic way he'd showed you; he's still covered in your own release, wet and slippery, but somehow you don't feel grossed out by it.

"You're a natural," he replies just as quietly, and your skin heats again when you look up to see his face, see the desire and pleasure in his expression, "Don't think there's much I need to teach you, to be honest. My parts are a lot simpler than yours."

You smile to yourself and pump him slowly again, this time brushing against the wet and throbbing tip. He makes a faint grunting sound that makes your eyebrows go up.

"This part..." you say quietly, thumbing the head ever so slightly and feeling your heart race when it pulses beneath you, "It feels different?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, biting down on his lip for a moment, "That part's sensitive, kinda like your clit."

You nod slowly, pushing your thumb up a bit and slowly rotating it along the sensitive area. He inhales sharply, grunts again when you prod the spongey head with both your thumb and index finger, teasing it like he'd done with your nipple.

"Fuck," he mutters softly, voice heavy and breathless, "That's it, angel, you got it."

His praise is like a warm blanket, shrouding you in safety and comfort as you slowly pump his cock again, teasing the head intermittently and trying not to smile too much every time he makes another one of those breathy grunting sounds. You feel pride swelling in your chest, the knowledge that you're actually making him feel good pushing you to continue on.

"What about these?" you ask softly, stilling your hand on his cock for a moment to gesture toward his balls, round and heavy beneath the base, "Does it....do they feel good when they get touched, too?"

"Yeah," he murmurs, voice dark and full of arousal, "They do."

"Can I touch them?"

The sound that emits from his throat sounds almost like a growl, low and husky, "Yes," he groans, "Go ahead and touch 'em, sweetheart."

The tone of his voice is slightly desperate, bordering on depraved. Your eyes travel back up to his face and his jaw is slack, eyes hooded as he watches you touch him. You've never seen him like this, almost completely wrecked by something you did.

"Gotta be real gentle," he continues, taking a breath through his nostrils and reaching down to pull his pajama pants down a bit more for easier access, "They're sensitive too."

You resume your slow pumping of his cock with one hand while your other reaches down to lightly trail the tips of your fingers along the shape of his balls, round and tender. You cup them gently, teasing them one by one in your palm. He hisses in pleasure, eyes shutting tightly as he leans back a bit against the headboard.

"Feel good?" you whisper, trying your best to fall into the role Joel usually takes on, the role of the person giving the pleasure.

"Yes, baby," he groans, pressing the backs of his hands against his shut eyes, "Yes, feels so good, sweetheart."

Your pumping gets a bit faster, a bit wetter as precum continues to drool from the tip and down his shaft. It's unbelievable that you're really sitting here in a man's bed, a man about thirty years older than you, pumping his cock and making him come apart like this. You can feel yourself throbbing beneath the blankets, getting wet all over again at the reality of the situation, and when your movements cause the blankets to fall from your chest and expose your breasts again, you don't bother trying to cover up.

Joel groans at the sight, reaching over to tweak one of your nipples between his fingers, making you whimper, "You know what happens when a man comes?" he asks you suddenly, brow furrowing in pleasure, "You learn about that in school?"

You nod quickly, feeling sweat trickle down your face as you continue to stroke him up and down, "Yes," you whisper, "I know what happens."

He groans again, swallowing thickly and taking a deep breath as he begins to palm your breasts, "I'm about to come, darlin'. There's gonna be a lot, need to know where to aim it."

You bite down on your lip, trying to keep all your focus on making him feel good and not on the hands now squeezing your breasts, teasing your nipples. "Wh-where do you want it to go?" But you already know the answer.

"Here," he grunts, thumbing your hard nipples, "These. Wanna come all over these pretty tits, sweetheart, will you let me?"

You nod, "Y-yes, Mr. Miller."

It's everything he needs to suddenly pull himself up from the bed and pull your hands off him, gesturing for you to lie back against his pillows. Your heart races in anticipation, eyes going wide and lips parting again as he leans over you and starts to jack his cock, fast and unrelenting. This is what he'd done the other night, when you'd talked on the phone; you'd tried to imagine what he'd looked like, making his own mess... now you're about to find out.

"Stay just like that, babygirl, just like that," he grunts out, pumping himself over and over as he aims the tip toward your bare breasts, swollen from all the attention he's given them tonight. His expression is tense and so is his body, soft stomach suddenly taut with pressure, chest heaving as he works his hand. He looks almost pained, brows scrunched together as he pulls himself over the edge.

"Come," you find yourself saying quietly, a shaky whimper playing at the edge of your voice, "Come for me."

Within seconds of your words your skin is hit with long ropes of a warm, white liquid, splattering across your breasts in uneven patterns. You watch with hooded eyes as Joel slows his strokes, groans louder than he has all night as his release spurts continuously from the head of his cock, painting you all over. His tense expression eases into one of pure bliss as he tosses his head back again, moaning up at the ceiling.

Wow.

Without asking for permission, without even questioning whether it's proper sex etiquette to do so, you find your hand travelling quickly downward to your wet pussy. You frantically begin to rub your clit, still gazing up at Joel's pleasured form, feeling his come slipping down the sides of your breasts onto the sheets below. You throb and pulse beneath your fingers, whining softly to yourself as your body readies itself for your second orgasm.

Joel looks down at you then, cock still in hand, slowly beginning to soften. He sees what you're doing immediately, and the devilish smirk that crosses his face is enough to send you over the edge.

"Fuuuuck," you moan out as you come, trembling in the sheets and curling your toes in pleasure, "Mmmm," you squirm and writhe beneath his gaze until it's over, then lay still and loose on the bed with barely any thoughts floating through your mind.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, both of you coming down from your orgasms and trying to collect yourselves. You can't help but look down at your chest, see the thick patches of come splattered all over your breasts, your nipples. How all of that could come from one person is wild to you; this certainly hadn't been taught in any of your health classes.

The memory of being so naïve, so innocent... it makes you grin. Because you couldn't be further from that person anymore, the one who did everything that was asked of her, never listened to her own heart, stayed on the sidelines and focused on math and extracurriculars and God while other people had these experiences. And now here you are - actually having them.

"I guess I'm not a good little Christian girl anymore," you find yourself saying with a shaky giggle; you suddenly feel reinvigorated, sexually liberated... free.

Joel laughs at that, breathless and genuine. He grins down at you, releases his cock and shuffles downward to lay beside you, "You're my good little Christian girl," he says softly, bringing a hand up to cradle your face, "You did so good."

"Did I?" you ask sincerely, "Be honest, I wanna know."

He just smiles and thumbs your cheek, eyes going crinkly, "You were perfect, babygirl, I swear." He leans forward and kisses you gently, sweetly, like you both didn't just do something completely filthy and depraved - but you're starting to realize that maybe it's normal to do things like this, not as taboo and sinful as you'd always thought.

When you part, you're suddenly painfully aware of the state of the bed, not to mention both of your bodies. You're both covered in a sheen of sweat, you've got come dripping down your skin, and both fluids are already beginning to stain the bedsheets. You make a face.

"Can we...can we change the sheets? And can I maybe take a shower?"

Joel chuckles at that, stroking your cheek one last time before pulling back to extricate himself from the bed, "I'll change 'em, sweetheart. You go get in the shower, it's right across the hall."

You slip out of bed on shaky legs, losing your balance a bit and having to grab on to Joel's bed side table for support. You both laugh, and you find comfort in the casual intimacy of it all - both of you standing there naked without any shame or embarrassment. It's strange and new but so refreshing, that familiar safe feeling warming your skin as you make your way to the bathroom. You pick up your discarded nightdress as you go.

You stare at yourself in Joel's bathroom mirror for a bit longer than necessary, eyes wide as they trail up and down your bare form. Splotches cover different parts of your skin, especially your breasts, nipples swollen and dark, not to mention covered in come. You feel an ache between your legs again at the sight and almost roll your eyes at yourself - when will you stop being this insatiable?

Unable to push down the urge to do so, you carefully drag one of your fingers through the layer of white splattered across your chest, fascinated by its sticky texture. He'd marked you, in more ways than one.

The shower is pleasant and relatively quick; you want to get back in Joel's arms as soon as possible. You try not to think too much about the implication of that desire, the safety you feel when you're with him versus the anxiety you feel when you're not and what exactly that means. You try to remind yourself of your roommates and their experiences, their ability to sleep around without catching feelings or getting attached. How do they do it? How do they do it when being close to another person like this is so intimate and special?

You change back into the nightdress after your shower and slip back into Joel's room, finding him laying in the freshly made bed beneath a new duvet. For a moment you think he might be sleeping, quietly shutting the door behind you and tiptoeing over to the bed. However when you get close enough he opens his eyes and looks at you, a sleepy smile spreading across his face.

"Hey there," he murmurs, reaching down to pull back the blankets on the other side - your side, "Get on in."

Your heart pounds harder than it probably should.

Climbing into bed beside Joel feels surprisingly normal, easy. You wriggle underneath the duvet and cuddle in beside him, immediately wrapping an arm around his solid form and nuzzling your head against his shoulder. He's wearing his pajama pants again but his torso is still bare, the hair on his chest tickling your skin. You feel him press a soft kiss to your hairline and you can't help but smile.

"I'm glad I came over," you whisper with a content sigh, "I was... I was starting to worry you didn't want me."

"Really?" he asks softly, brow furrowing, "Why's that?"

You shake your head and nuzzle in deeper, "Just me being self conscious and insecure, as usual."

His hand comes up to rub your back soothingly, circling it with his palm through your thin nightdress. He pulls you in a bit closer, kisses your forehead again with a bit more firmness.

"It's normal to feel that way," he murmurs against your skin, "But I do want you, babygirl. You're all I think about lately, I mean that." You shiver at his words, closing your eyes and willing yourself to believe that he really does mean them like he says. "Most beautiful little thing I've had in my bed for a long time."

You press a gentle kiss to his collarbone in response, nose trailing along the skin. He didn't shower but you're sort of glad he didn't; he still smells like sex, a deep masculine musk that you can only attribute to him now, a scent that makes you feel safe.

"I just feel bad...making us sneak around and all that," you admit, "I know it's childish and silly, but I'm so scared of disappointing my parents. I shouldn't be but I am."

"You're young," he says softly, tenderly, "That kinda stuff still matters, especially when you're livin' with them. I get it, honey. You don't have to defend yourself."

You grimace against his skin, "I just wish this could be more normal. That you could just be a guy I'm seeing instead of my guitar teacher," you shake your head, "It's not fair."

He pulls you in even closer with a soft chuckle, "Well, if it's any consolation, I'm lookin' forward to teachin' you how to play."

You make a face, "Hymns," you say with a roll of your eyes, "You're teaching me how to play hymns. I don't see anything exciting or sexy about that."

"We'll make it sexy," he murmurs, inching his face downward so it's more level with yours, eyes casting down to your lips, "Thought you were my good little Christian girl."

All thoughts suddenly seem arbitrary when he's looking at you like that, your gaze immediately going hazy as he leans in and kisses you deep, pushes his tongue inside your mouth softly and tastes you. You hum against his mouth as a response, thighs tightening together as if on instinct the second you feel yourself begin to throb again.

"Are you?" he asks huskily when he pulls away, eyes dark but tired, "Are you my good little Christian girl, baby?"

You nod, swallowing down your arousal, "Yes, Mr. Miller."

"You gonna let me touch you while I teach you guitar?"

You nod again, biting back a whimper, "Yes, Mr. Miller."

His eyes dart back down to your lips, hand on your back traveling downward to cup your bare ass beneath the nightdress, "You gonna let me fuck that soft little pussy while you play one of your hymns?"

"Yes, Mr. Miller," you repeat, leaning forward to bury your face in his warm skin and inhale him again, moan softly against the hair on his chest, "Yes."

He squeezes your ass for a moment and then brings his hand back up, pulls you to him and wraps his arms around you tightly, "See, babygirl?" he whispers, "Told you we'll make it sexy."

--

Joel's alarm wakes you around six, rousing you from one of the best sleeps of your life. You open your eyes groggily, feeling him lean over you in bed to turn it off, warm chest brushing your arm. You roll over in bed and cuddle into him again, humming sleepily to yourself when he pulls you in close.

"I gotta get ready for work," he murmurs gently into your hair, "Go back to sleep, I'll wake you when it's time to go."

You frown sleepily but don't have the energy to protest, eyes closing again as you melt back into his pillow. You feel him release you from his embrace and press a kiss to your forehead, a simple reminder that this isn't some dream you're having, it's somehow reality. You smile and fall asleep again within seconds.

--

He wakes you up again after about half an hour, seats himself on the edge of his bed and strokes your hair. You peer up at him with a sleepy and satisfied expression, unable to stop the words that fall immediately from your lips:

"Kiss me."

He doesn't need convincing, still thumbing your hair behind your ear as he leans down and kisses you softly, bumps your nose against his and lets your tongue lazily explore his mouth, tasting mouthwash. You sigh contentedly, pulling back to smile at him while he strokes your cheek.

"Sleep good?" he asks you softly.

You nod, remembering the closeness the two of you had shared all night, the soft hugs and tender cuddles, the quiet intimacy you've never experienced with anyone else. "Amazing," you whisper.

He kisses you again before you get out of bed, then takes your hand as he leads you downstairs. You grab your jacket on the way out of his bedroom, still hanging on the back of his door. You look down at yourself as you both reach the top of the stairs, realizing there's no way you'll be able to walk home in an outfit like this without certainly being accosted by a nosy neighbor.

You push down your worry when you reach the kitchen, unable to stop the grin from spreading across your face when you see that the kitchen table is set with breakfast; scrambled eggs and bacon.

"You made me breakfast?" you ask in awe, looking from the food to Joel and back again.

He laughs, walking over to the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup, "I did," he says with a smile, "And as much as I'd love for us to just sit and enjoy it," he looks down at his watch with a grimace as he takes a sip of coffee, "we have about ten minutes before I gotta drive you home and then get to work."

You sit down at the table, picking up your fork and immediately digging into the eggs, "You're gonna drive me home?"

He seats himself across from you, watching you enjoy what he'd cooked with a fond smile, "Can't have you walkin' home in that tiny little thing, can I?" he says teasingly, "Your parents would wring my neck."

You groan, "Oh god, please don't even joke about that. If they knew..."

He just chuckles and starts to eat, looking up every now and then to give you one of those crinkly-eyed crooked smiles that makes you weak. You smile through mouthfuls of food and feel your skin alight every time you feel his gaze on you.

"I don't usually eat this fast, I promise," you say through a mouthful of bacon, covering your mouth, "It's only 'cause we're on a time crunch."

He shakes his head, still smiling, "You're so damn cute."

You try your hardest not to reach across the table and pull him toward you for a kiss.

--

The drive from his house to yours is extremely short, no less than two minutes. Still, you enjoy the short time you spend in his truck, his big hand spread out on your bare thigh while he hums along to a tune on the radio and gives you soft little sideways glances that makes your heart flutter. You can't help but feel like someone else when you're with him, someone more carefree and outgoing, happier and more experienced. It's only when you slowly near your house that you realize maybe this person is who you really are.

"Stop here," you tell Joel with a grimace, still a few houses away, "My parents are still home."

"How're you gonna get in?" he asks with an edge of concern to his voice, eyeing your house, "Think you can climb the fence?"

You bite your lip, "Probably. I've never done it before but I don't have much choice," you lean your head against the backrest in irritation, "God, why did I choose now to rebel? I coulda learned how to do all this shit when I was a kid if I hadn't been so obsessed with being perfect."

He gives you a sympathetic look, thumb stroking your thigh reassuringly, "I'll stay right here 'til you're inside."

You yearn to lean over the small space between you and kiss him, but you know there's always a risk of a neighbor coming out of their house and seeing you. Instead, you place your hand atop the one on your thigh and squeeze his fingers gently, giving him a small smile.

"I had a really nice night," you say quietly, unsure how exactly this kind of thing is done, "And morning."

"So did I, sweetheart," he replies, voice tender, "We'll do it again, promise."

With one final squeeze of his hand you slip out of his truck, tying your jacket around your waist to cover up your legs a bit. It leaves your upper half more exposed than you'd like, your eyes going wide when you realize how much cleavage this nightdress really shows.

"Here," Joel says, understanding your reaction immediately, "Wear this on top." Without giving you any time to protest he's unbuckling himself to undo his plaid button down, shirking it off his shoulders and handing it to you. It leaves him in a t-shirt and jeans, your eyes trailing to his strong arms without meaning to, the arms that had held you close all night.

"Thank you," you murmur, brow furrowing a bit, "You're sure?"

He smiles crookedly and buckles up again, "I'm sure, angel. You keep that."

Your heart flutters as you wrap his shirt around you, slipping your arms into the much too long sleeves and inhaling the scent of him - your new favorite smell - surrounding you. You're never getting rid of this. Ever.

With a wave you hurry down the sidewalk, feeling slightly ridiculous in your layered and baggy outfit but relieved that you're covered up. You eye the tall white fence of your backyard, trying to formulate a plan in your head as you go. Hop the fence, get a ladder from the tool shed and climb up to your bedroom? But did you even leave your window open? You can't help but feel rage in your chest for your parents rules, the curfew, all the nonsense you've been living with for your entire life. Why the fuck don't you have a fucking key to your own fucking house?

You can feel Joel's eyes on you when you reach the fence, still sitting in his truck a few houses down.

Please, God, you think to yourself as you slip one of your sneakers in between the fence posts and yank yourself up, I know I've sinned. I know I'm a mess. And I'm not even sure I really believe in you anymore. But please, if you're there, don't let me make a fool of myself in front of Joel Miller.

Surprisingly, your prayer seems to work. Climbing up the fence is relatively easy; you keep an eye out for your neighbors as you quickly pull yourself over and flop down on the other side, extremely grateful that neither your jacket nor Joel's shirt gets caught on anything. You hurry to the tool shed, eyeing your bedroom window as you go and feeling beyond relieved when you see that it's wide open; God bless Texan summers.

You decide to wait inside the tool shed until your parents are gone, not wanting to draw any attention to yourself with the ladder. You close the door behind you and sink to the concrete floor, heart pounding in your chest as the reality of what you've just done overwhelms you.

You snuck out to see a man. You slept in his bed. He drove you home so you could sneak back in.

Quiet laughter fills the tool shed, all coming from your own mouth. You grin to yourself and shake your head in the darkness, leaning back against the door and closing your eyes. Who are you? Who is this new person you've become? You don't know, but you love her.

You find yourself pulling your phone out of your jacket pocket and typing out a new message, but this time it's not to Joel - it's to your friends from college:

i think i'm officially a bad girl.

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

July 13th

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1. it's been a while since I read this fic but it's set during the sunshot campaign and wwx jc jzx and lwj all develop some sort of bond and can share powers/cores(?) I don't remember if the golden core transfer happened. they can bring each other back to life (though I think there's some sort of time limit to it?) that they first discover when wwx was killed (I believe)

FOUND!🔒🧡 Song by WithBroomBefore (T, 41k, Platonic Soulbond, Hurt/comfort, Canon Divergence, No golden core transfer, JC&JZX stay in Xuanwu cave, Fix-it, Temporary character death)

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2. Thank you for this blog. I am looking for a fic that I read a few years ago, focused on Lan Sizhui. I think the pairing was ZhuiLing or else it was focused on Lan Sizhui, Lan Jingyi, and Jin Ling in some combination. They were still cultivators, Lan Sizhui was a monster/tentacle monster/eldritch kind of creature when he wasn't in human form and the Lan clan helped keep this secret. I think it was because he was a Wen but I don't remember the exact explanatiom now. It was a bit long, as I think it had some chapters, and the juniors were still cultivators who went on night hunts and trained. I liked seeing how the slight change from the original universe was used. I've searched several ways in ao3 and have not been able to find it again yet. @mejomonster

FOUND? sounds like "Lurking" by Verse, but they deleted all their mdzs fics. It may exist on the wayback machine.

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3. Hi!!! I was hoping you'd find this wangxian fic:

It was a Jonh Carter AU(? yes that Disney movie about Mars) Like Lan Zhan is from Helium and Wei Ying is a Thark. I think is listed as explicit and top Wei Wuxian... not sure about other tags... The Summary might be vague and say something along the lines of Lan Zhan doing a trip and encountering a stranger (Wei Wuxian) I've tried to search it but there's just so many fics!

I hope it's still up 😭😭 Thank you so much before hand! @nat-first-account

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4. Love this blog it always helps me find my next fic. I need help finding a fic where lan wanjai and Wei ying find a baby and they make jokes that Wei ying dreamed about it and got pregnant. But than a ton of woman start saying that man Shan got them pregnant through dreams.

FOUND? Taking Responsibility by deliciousblizzardshark (T, 6k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Getting Together, Trope Subversion/Inversion, Pretend mpreg, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Fluff and Crack)

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5. Hi! I’m looking for a specific Wangxian fic. The Lan sect is full of monks and LWJ is a monk assigned to protect WWX on his journey to get something for Jin Guangshan. WWX is one of the best archers and that’s why he’s specifically sent on the quest to hunt something down. LWJ falls in love with WWX on their quest and near/at the climax they run into a sage who almost kills WWX. Can you help me find this fic? Sorry if this has been asked before! @whompmwhomp

FOUND? Climb Every Mountain by athena_crikey (E, 21k, WangXian, Magic, Warrior Monks, Archery, h/c, Quests, Bodyguard, vow of celebacy, Temptation, (sexual) frustration, Falling In Love, Loss of Virginity, First Time, LWJ's self-selected repression, the inherent eroticism of WWX)

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6. heyy! i'm currently trying to find a fic where wwx came back to the cloud recesses all beaten up and has his mouth sewed shut, the fic is basically focused on him recovering with nie huaisang and others getting revenge. i think in the end, it was sect leader yao who did it? thanks!

FOUND? Silenced by Tasharene (M, 63k, WangXian, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, PTSD, Temporary Blindness, Aversion to touch, Fear of crowds, Panic Attacks, Post-Canon, WWX Whump, Hurt WWX, Whump, Angst with a Happy Ending, world-class troll LXC, see the archive Warnings BEFORE you accuse me of not tagging things!!!)

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7. hii im looking for a wangxian fic where a phoenix god/spirit(?) has lived many lives. he chose his next life to be human and he reincarnated as wei wuxian. some big event happens that leads to him being kept in i think the cold pond cave and theres barriers that only lan wangji can go through. its definitely not a 2024 fic and im betting on it not being 2023 either. youre my last hope </3 thank you in advance

FOUND? 🔒 Breathing Firestorm by ladyshadowdrake (M, 110k, wangxian, angst, fluff, captivity, creepy WRH, no non-con, dreamsharing, politics, people making the best decisions they can, epic length, mythical creature WWX, canon-typical violence, dark, happy ending) I haven't read this but 7 sounds like the summary of breathing firestorm

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8. Hi! I need your help once sgain. Because once again I thought I had this fic bookmarked, but can't find it, and my Google-fu has failed too, so here goes: x number of years ago, Wei Ying and the Wen Remnants vanished from the Burial Mounds. Lan Zhan has never stopped searching for Wei Ying. There are strange rumors everywhere that WY & the others are in a resentment-filled no man's land (kind of like the void in the Shadow & Bone novel) where huge deadly monsters roam. Word is also that people who really need help have safely disappeared into this void. As time passes, rumors of strange cultivators suddenly appearing to aid people are also circulating. And I think Lan Zhan actually meets Xiao Xingchen in an inn at one point & it's clear he knows Wri Ying (he & Song Lan turn out to be Wei Ying's right-hand men). LZ does try to get into the void thing, but the energy is too strong & he barely makes it out of the area. After a number of years they get a message out of the blue, i think, from WY saying that the monsters are getting out, and WY ends up bringing the Wei Sect back to the cultivation world to help fight. Wei Ying will have nothing to say or do with Lan Zhan, at least to start, which Lan Zhan is devestated by. Um...and Lan Yuan is there, grown up & still the Best Boy ever. I think A-Yuan tirns out to be a Gusu Lan fanboy. Anyway, it turns out Wei Ying created a ghost path that allows the Wei Sect to safely use resentful energy. But you find out WY got too damaged back in the beginning and by the end they defeat the monsters but he's dying, so Lan Zhan gives Wei ying his golden core. I think LZ actually does the whole transfer himself in the Jingshi.

Your help is hugely appreciated!

FOUND! 💖 Echo, Murmur, Dream, Here by bluerainmist (M, 51k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Universe Alteration, the yiling patriarch survives, Angst with a Happy Ending, Catharsis, Slow Burn, Drama, Getting Together, Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Melancholy, Love, Mutual Pining, Reunions, Love Confessions, Eventual Smut, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, Switching, Grief/Mourning, fucking while pining, Implied/Referenced Torture, Self-Harm, golden core transfer, Playing fast and loose with worldbuilding, Battle Scenes, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, implied / Referenced suicide attempt, Sect Leader WWX, YLLZ WWX, Yílíng Wèi Sect)

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9. I found a fic where the sect leader Yao travels through time and fixes things. as far as I remember the title. I was going to read the fic but I missed it @quwieiidkd

FOUND? 🔒 how Yao Yongzheng traveled back in time to save everyone by ShippersList (T, 6k, Sect Leader Yao & WWX, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Time Travel Fix-It, Crack Treated Seriously, WWX is a Yao, Eventual WangXian, saving the world by accident, Genius WWX, Everyone Loves WWX, sect leader Yao is every overconfident underqualified middle-aged cishet man ever)

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10. Hii!! I'm searching for wangxian fanfic I read long ago and don't remember it's name. Wei ying and lan zhan are married at the cold pond and due to misunderstanding they don't acknowledge their marriage until the cliff scene. Where lan zhan follows after wei ying and fall down but they are saved by lan an and baosharan. After which they don't return to cultivation world and stay hidden for 16 yrs and has 3 kids(1 girl and 2 boys). Also, jin zixuan does not die and same with Jiang yanli but they lie to wangxian and have war and blame wei ying. After 16 yrs all sect leaders are threatened by meng Yao and to save themselves they stay with wangxian. Also, wen Qing family is also alive. @jungkookswife07613

Hii! Sorry but this is not the fiction I'm searching for. Can you try again?

The story starts from the cliff scene and wei ying remember all the things he had done with lan zhan. Also,lan zhan follows after wei ying and fall down the cliff and they are saved by baosharan and lan an. The elders also saved wen family and they lived in some place for 16 yrs in peace. With wangxian children which he gave birth to. Ayuan is eldest,followed by girl who is half blind and last son who is quiet. Ayuan goes outside and falls into some troubles and all sects(jin,Jiang,lan,nie) were present there including jin zixuan and Jiang yanli with their son because they were chased by meng Yao. He wanted to kill all of them. Wangxian comes their to save Ayuan and they get saved in the process. They got some cursed so Ayuan request wangxian to let them stay in their house until their cursed is solved.they stay in their house and yanli tries to connect with wei wuxian but he doesn't. Wen Ning is also married. Also, wangxian are immortal. Wei ying form is crow which he uses to spy on his son for safety reasons. Also, lan xichen repents himself and tries to make amends and connect with the kids. Lan zhan is also trying to connect with his family. Also, that Jiang family is a bit#h (bitch), cheng verbally abuses wei wuxian at any chance he gets and yanli only knows to cry. Same with lan qiren,he is still the same. Nice mingjue is still alive but he also already got cursed. I don't know about lan zhan. I didn't read after because it was not completed.

NOT FOUND!🔒These Things Unseen by bonyenne (T, 34k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Accidental Baby Acquisition, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Found Family, POV Alternating, Mutual Pining, Kid Fic, Additional Warnings In Author's Note) well, the first half the the description, the rest doesn't match. but i'll leave the link in case original requester is thinking of two different fics b/c the first half (with the three kids and rescue by bssr) is a pretty close match

NOT FOUND!🔒Blossoming flowers in a full moon - 花好月圆 by ThisIsWhereTheMagicHappens (T, 64k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Happy Ending, Fix-It of Sorts, make LWJ happy agenda, wangxian cuddle to Immortality)

FOUND! If It's Too Hard To Forgive by Machevalli (M, 94k, WIP, WangXian, XuanLi, Somebody Lives/Not Everyone Dies, Fluff and Angst, Bittersweet Ending, Yunmeng Jiang Sect Bashing, WWX Leaves the Yunmeng Jiang Sect, Top LWJ/Bottom WWX, Mpreg)

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11. After being a long time lurker I finally found myself needing your aid. The fic I lost track of was an A/B/O fic that had omega!LWJ & alpha!WWX. It was a modern AU, but I can't remember much that would help narrow down this fic other than I know there was an age gap, with LWJ being older than WWX. Thank you so much for your help!

FOUND? The Ties That Bind by silverclaw (G, 43k, wangxian, A/B/O, Arranged Marriage, Modern, Alpha WWX, Omega LWJ, past toxic relationship, Slow Burn, husbandiest of husband material WWX, mention of mpreg in relation to side-character, hurt LWJ, WWX falls first AND harder, No Smut)

FOUND? To Belong, To You by mk404 (E, 44k, WangXian, JYL/JZX, JL/LJY, WIP, A/B/O, Alpha LWJ, Omega WWX, Alpha JL, Alpha LXC, Alpha LSZ, Beta LJY, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mpreg, Modern with Magic, like they still go night hunting, But also its the 21 century, WWX doesn't die but goes into a coma, Age Difference, Older LWJ, Younger WWX, a-yuan is their bby, Age difference but like they are both adults, Like adults adults, Mates, Ass Play, Ass to Mouth, Anal Sex, Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Nipple Play, Nipple Licking, Finger Sucking, Knotting, Creampie, Size Kink, Size Difference, YLLZ WWX, Size Queen WWX, Multiple Orgasms, Overstimulation, Canon Divergence, Male Lactation) the description is a little vague so it doesnt really narrow it down

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12. Hi!! Do you know anything abt a modern au fic were lwj thinks wwx is in a relationship with someone called "a-yuan" and is kinda a jerk abt it but then it's revealed that wwx was never dating anyone but that a-yuan was his child. Sorry if this is kinda vague it's been awhile since I've read this fic 😅 (great blog btw) @imreallyonthishellsite

FOUND? 🔒 breathe in the air, the last of its kind by wereworm (T, 27k, WangXian, Modern, assumed cheating, Miscommunication, gc transfer modernised as hand-wavey illness (referenced/implied), 5+1 Things, wwx's lil family 3.0: the wens, wwx didn't adopt a-yuan the wens adopted wwx, lwj is a flawed person and people need to stop ignoring that, Translation Available, Перевод на русский | Translation in Russian)

FOUND? Green Is The Colour by lamusadelils (T, 2k, WangXian, Modern, A/B/O, Office, Omega LWJ, Alpha WWX, Jealous LWJ, casanova WWX, Or Is he?, Humor) I think I'm a bit late but I just found an alternative to 12

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13. Help me wangxianficfinder, you're my only hope!

I would swear I bookmarked this one but I can't find it anywhere!

It's a modern au where LWJ and WWX are college students. Iirc they are already in a relationship.

Iirc it opens with WWX and LWJ in a wrecked car which is possibly half hanging off a bridge - they'd been run off the road (though that's not established until later).

When the emergency services arrive, LWJ is taken to hospital but WWX is arrested for some bullshit reason - resisting arrest or something. Iirc the cops on the scene were Jin Zixun and Xue Yang.

There is worry from LWJ's family because they don't know what happened to WWX. Just that he was in the car and he should be in the hospital but isn't.

Later, WWX is in an interrogation room not making much sense because he's injured and hypothermic (it's winter and he was soaked through but he wasn't allowed to even dry off) then he gets left on his own.

I *think* he was tracked down by police (chief?) NMJ who got to WWX shortly before his heart stopped due to his injuries, the hypothermia, and the mistreatment while in custody.

That's all I can remember. Does this ring any bells for anyone? @greywake

Yep, looks like that's the fic I was after 😭

I don't suppose anyone has a copy downloaded?

FOUND! I found a link in another site in tumblr but i can't find the fic. Truth or There by FRecklis be well :) / The suggestion for 13 is available via the Wayback Machine here: Follow up on the Wayback Machine link for 13: it looks like only the first chapter was archived 😭

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14. Hi! This is for the fic finder. I'm looking for a fic where WWX takes A-Yuan and flees the Siege on burial mounts. He heads towards the ocean and meets XXC and SL, who travel in the same direction. He gives them a fake name and they eventually get to a seaside town where XXC and SL have a house that they offer WWX to stay in. I think in the last few chapters NHS found out he was there and WWX started to teach some town children (well, teenagers) so that the town has more protection and he doesn't have to use demonic cultivation.

I meant to suggest this fic in the ITMF on the 27. June but I can't find it for the life of me. Thank you in advance for helping me look for it! @hikato-chan

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15. Hello everyone, I come again looking for your help. This fic is an au of Harry Potter, or at least contains elements of it. I'm sure it's just one chapter and it's about Lan Wangji being cursed as a rabbit in the middle of his class, Wei Wuxian has a small bout of madness that involves torturing the spell caster because he thinks LWJ was killed in his presence (there's a mention that Jiang Wanyin was scared and didn't look him in the eye for a while, I think) until Lan Qiren pulls Bunji out of the fallen clothes. The curse is broken with a kiss of true love. As always, thank you very much for your time and effort. @makolashida

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16. I’m looking for this fic where Wwx is dead and while dead his (memories?) are shown to the cultivation world and when Wwx comes back everyone (or most people) consider him a good person. I believe in the description of this fic the Wwx that comes back this world is a different one from the one who dies in that universe. I also remember a scene in the fic where Wwx is overhearing people passing by talking about the compass he invented and he swore he named it something different, or he named something differently. This scene may not be in this fic but I swore there was a scene about Lán Xichen begging WWx for forgiveness for Jin guangyao actions

FOUND? remind me of this fic Have You Heard Of The Yiling Patriach by R_PONTS. But i think its deleted? Wei Wuxian is not strong, or at the very least his brute strength is not something he take prides in as much as his speed and flexibility, but those can only get you so far, and when going against stronger enemy, your mind is your trump card. Or, Wei Wuxian develop a time traveling array during the Sunshot Campaign in case everything went wrong but forgot about it after. It was during the Siege that people have disturb it along with Some other experimental talismans and truths was revealed a little to late.Wei Wuxian woke up in a world different from what he remembers.

amalthia said: well, the first half the the description, the rest doesn't match. but i'll leave the link in case original requester is thinking of two different fics b/c the first half (with the three kids and rescue by bssr) is a pretty close match

FOUND? scatter and sunder by silversshadow (T, 15k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, major character death, canon divergence, temporary character death) the first half of the request sounds like a perfect fit for scatter and sunder by silversshadow It doesn't have a seen with the misnamed compass but does have LXC begging for forgiveness

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17. HI, Im looking for a fic where i believe it was a kidfic? A yuan was adopted by lan zhan? There was a scene where lwjs car broke down in a snow storm and wwwx drove his old car to save them. Lol i cant remember much else. Pls help

FOUND? love thy neighbor by wincechesters (M, 7k, WangXian , Modern AU, Neighbors, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Single Parents, Single Parent LWJ) not exactly snowstorm, but there's a scene in 'love thy neighbor' when lwj's car broke down in winter and wwx rescues him and a-yuan with his old, loud car.

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18. Hello, wonderful people! Thank you for your hard work! Can you please help me find this fic? It's wangxian and either xiyao or 3zun. What I remember is at some point Jin Guangyao did something to contradict his father I think so in punishment he was thrown to some abandoned mine. Lan bros, Nie Mingjue and Wei Wuxian were searching for him and WWX said he will use the spirits of the dead for the search. Others disagreed but he said that JGY doesn't have much time since it was really cold in the mine for someone without a good golden core. At this point LWJ started to suspect WWX doesn't have one, I think. Does this ring any bells? Thank you in advance! @themorrana

FOUND! Aftermath by KouriArashi (T, 57k, JYL/JZX, wangxian, LXC/JGY, JZX & JGY, JYL & WXX, Canon Divergence, Fix-It, Everybody Lives, Romance, Developing Relationship, Family, Sibling Bonding, Light Angst, Politics, Attempted Sexual Assault, some murder on occasion, People talking about their feelings, processing their trauma, The good shit) Jin Guangshan dies at the beginning of the story, but the part with the mine happens at the end.

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19. Hello! For the next fic finder I have a fic i would love to get found.

It’s Wangxian.

And I think it was time travel but I’m not too sure. It might not have been, I’m 90 % sure it was in the cloudless days though.

Anyway the only thing I really remember is that wwx tells lwj that the older disciples used to make him drink with them when he was younger, like he started young around 12 I think?

He mentioned to lwj that it took around two bottles of wine to get him drunk and that usually he didn’t have to drink that much around his year mates as they got passed out drunk pretty quickly.

I also remember lwj or someone telling him that his golden core had burned away the alcohol the entire time. Which had put it under some kind of strain I think?

I would be really grateful if you guys could help me find it. @ravenwithwings

FOUND!🔒 The Second Hand Unwinds by trulywicked (E, 64k, wangxian, JYL/JZX, WIP, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Time Travel Fix-It, Not JC Friendly, Not Yunmeng Jiang Sect Friendly, Not Jiāng Family Friendly, Not YZY Friendly, Time Travelling LWJ, Protective LWJ, Fluff, Minor Angst, Minor Character Death, JGS is his own warning, Wooing, LWJ is romantic af, Inventor WWX, Genius WWX, Cloud Recesses Study Arc, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Protective Gusu Lan Sect, Supportive LXC, Good Uncle LQR, WWX Protection Squad)

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20. Hiii!! I’m trying to find this one fic. I never read it but the summary was intriguing. Wangxian are in a relationship but they both think the other is asexual (neither of them are). I think it was in a modern universe but i’m not completely sure. Been trying to find it for hoursssss

FOUND? Pounding Madly by Dei_Starr (DeiStarr), DeiStarr (E, 11k, WangXian, WIP, Car Accidents, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Hospitalization, Roommates, Boarding School, Teenagers, Adults, Unresolved Sexual Tension, Celibacy, Abstinence, Asexual Relationship, Where Neither Of Them Is Actually Asexual, Miscommunication, Misunderstandings, Attempt at Humor, Angst and Fluff, Eventual Smut, First Time, Loss of Virginity, No Underage Sex, It's Plot Relevant I Swear, Demisexuality, Demisexual WWX, Asexuality Spectrum, This Is Why We Can't Have Nice Things, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Communication Failure, Lack of Communication, Everyone Else Is Very Entertained, Epic Fail, Comedy of Errors, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn, The Romance Is Fast, But The Sex Takes Years, Sex Is Not The Enemy, this is what happens when, Mr. "I Talk A Lot But Don't Really Say A Thing" & Mr. "'Mn' Is A Full Sentence" Get Together, Casting Couch, Corset, Gender Non-Conforming WWX, Crossdressing Kink, Crossdressing WWX, Seduction, Body Worship, Hand Jobs, Sexual Roleplay, Cock Warming, Mirror Sex, Intercrural Sex, Nipple Play, Oblivious WangXian, WWX Has a Breeding Kink, LWJ Has a Big Dick, Gay Sex, Anal Sex, Oral Sex, First Time Blow Jobs, Lingerie, LWJ is Bad at Communicating, WWX is a Mess, LWJ is a Panicked Gay, Horny LWJ, Horny WWX, Idiots in Love, POV LWJ, POV WWX, Human Disaster WWX, WWX is a Tease, WWX Has ADHD) I was trying to find the car accident fic someone else mentioned, and I think I found the one 20's looking for instead! I also haven't read it, but the summary matches!

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[cottoncandyafterdark]

Senku Discovering Reader is a Mermaid (Drabble)

Fandom: Dr Stone

Character(s): Senku Ishigami

Warnings: None

Notes: Requested by LadyIshtar on ao3! Well, they requested this premise with a few other characters too, and I will write those at some point, I am working on them, but it's been forever since I've posted anything on ao3, so I figured I'd just go ahead and post Senku's, which I finished a bit ago, just to like, prove I'm alive lol. Thanks for your patience by the way, everyone, my classes are over for the semester so I'm gonna try to write more often for the next few months til they start again! Enjoy!

Senku stared. Just... Stared. You weren't sure you'd ever seen him so speechless before.

"Um..." You laughed nervously. "Surprise...? I, um, wanted to tell you sooner, but I didn't know how, I didn't really think you'd believe me...."

He blinked quickly, and finally seemed to snap back to reality.

"You were right, I wouldn't have believed you, if you'd told me instead of showing me. But..." He approached and placed a hand on your tail. "This is real." He ran his hands over the scales, and you couldn't help but shudder a bit. "Either that, or you spent hours upon hours making it look and feel real as hell to trick me into looking stupid."

"It is real-!" You started to protest, but Senku laughed.

"I know. You wouldn't do that, you're much too sweet to pull that kind of prank." He chuckled again and you blushed, but he quickly shifted back to an intense look of curiosity and analysation, trying to put everything together in his head- you smiled. Senku really never did change.

"So. How does it work?" He asked. 

"What do you mean?"

"Well, a lot of things, but let's start with the fact that you usually have legs. Currently you have a fish tail. How do you do that?"

You shrugged. "It just happens naturally when I'm submerged in water."

"Hm." He ran a finger down the middle of your tail, almost like he was looking for a seam- there was none, of course. You twitched a little, not used to the sensation of someone touching the tail you've worked so hard to keep hidden, though it wasn't unpleasant. It kind of felt nice, actually, in the same way that someone running their fingers through your hair would. "Does it hurt?"

"No, not at all. It just wears off after a little while when I dry off."

"Interesting...." He knit his eyebrows together further, surely already trying to figure out exactly how that could possibly work. 

You almost didn't want to say it, but you had to- "Honestly, Senku, I think it's just magic."

Senku, to your surprise, laughed. "You know, they used to call lightning strikes and solar eclipses "magic", too. Once we understand how it happens, it stops being magic, and starts being science. Which is why you're coming back to the lab with me as soon as you get your legs back."

His enthusiasm was infectious. You couldn't help but smile a little bit too, although the idea of being analyzed and experimented on made you... A bit nervous. But it was Senku. You knew he'd never hurt you. "Just remember that I'm your partner, Senku, not a science experiment," you gently chided him anyways, just to keep him on-track.

"Of course , I couldn't forget that. But can you blame me for being curious?"

"No, of course. I wouldn't expect anything else from you." You smiled up at him, and he finally looked up from your tail to give you a reassuring smile back. It almost felt silly, now, that you'd put off telling him the truth about yourself for so long. You really shouldn't have expected anything else.

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Burning Hearts Chapter 1

HI WELCOME TO MY FAVORITE PROJECT! This series is what my fic Prescribed Medicine was loosely based on. I've decided to bring it to life in a multi part series! This chapter is sfw and building background. I will probably post to AO3 since the series lovers live there.

Pairing: Wyvern Devil Fruit Reader (female) x Law

Burning Hearts Chapter 1: A Heated End. A Cold Beginning.

Summary: You were teleported across the globe in an instant, away from your crew. Your body was badly broken and beaten, thrust into the harsh landscape of a Northern island. You are discovered by the Heart Pirates and brought back to health. Startled upon waking up in a foreign place with an unfamiliar crew, you are shocked with the news that you’ll be spending two years there. Trafalgar Law, the captain of the Heart Pirates has made a promise to train you, but will it become something more than a mentor relationship?

Background: O/C (Rito Daisy) is a Strawhat Pirate. Long hair, dark brown with a streak of grey hair coming from the crown. Heterochromia, one eye brown and the other grey. O/C (Daisy) has a Zoan devil fruit power, although she is unaware what type of creature it came from. She was forced to ingest the fruit as a slave, therefore is resentful and only uses it when completely necessary. The only powers she has harnessed are black, bat like wings, and refuses to explore her powers further. O/C joined the Straw Hat Pirates a brief time before the Water 7 Arc. 

— —

Chapter 1: A Heated End. A Cold Beginning. 

Milky, iridescent ribbons of northern lights swirled quickly across your range of vision. Were you laying on the ground? You felt your long hair tickling your back, nothing impeding it. With nothing above or behind you, you were whizzing through space and time. You tried to move your hands. 

Your feet. 

Your wings. 

Nothing. You couldn’t move an inch. Your head spun with dizziness and confusion. What happened? Where were you? The last thing you remembered was-

“Wait Sanji-!” You called out after being face to face with the padded paw of Bartholomew Kuma on Sabaody Archipelago. 

“Don’t touch her you brute!” Sanji’s eyes flared with aggression as he aimed a kick towards your attacker. 

And that was the last thing you saw. You had been bested badly by Kizaru and Kuma, just as the rest of your crew had. You knew you had broken bones. You realized this now that the adrenaline had worn off and you could finally feel your injuries. The delicate tissue of your wings was ripped to shreds and you felt it deep in your flesh. You couldn’t even retract your wings and resume your full human form. You were helpless in your involuntary stasis. How long had you been flying away? The northern lights begin to meld together in your vision and your eyelids flutter closed again… 

— — — 

*WOOOOSH* *CRASH*

Your body crashed into the side of a snowy mountain like a dropped bomb. Pine branches snapped. Squirrels and foxes scampered away quickly. Boulders shattered at the sheer force of the impact. For a moment you were able to open your eyes. 

You were blinded by bright white. After a few moments of believing you had died and were ascending into the heavens, the craggy mountainside came into view. But before you could fully assess your situation, the rock face beneath you gave way and you were falling again. 

You scream but your mouth was quickly covered with snow from the incoming avalanche. You feel more of your bones snap. The pain is unbearable. Your head spins… 

— — — 

“Way too fuckin’ cold…” Penguin struggles to lift his legs from the knee deep snow as he trudges towards the woods on the mountain. 

“Captain said to get wood. You wanna tell him you were ‘too cold,’ Penguin?” Ikkaku snapped at her exploration partner while she too, struggled to move through the snow. 

“I’d like to see him out here in this shit! I can barely tell my hand from my dick in this blizzard!” Penguin shot back. 

“That’s probably because you can barely see your- Ooof!” Ikkaku trips over something in her path and takes a nose dive into the fresh powder in front of her. 

“Hah! Karma, bitch!” Penguin laughs and pulls his hat back. Upon clearing his vision, he sees what his crew mate had tumbled over. A pair of denim clad thighs and a slim waist. “Wait… Ikkaku…” 

“What is it? Help me up already!” 

“It’s… it’s a girl!” 

“What?” Ikkaku shakes her head to shake off the snow. 

“There’s some lady buried in the snow! We gotta get her out!” Penguin panics and starts scraping heaps of snow off the frozen body. 

“Oh shit, you’re right. Let’s pull her out.” Ikkaku reaches through the snow until she feels a lifeless skull lolling around. She places a gentle hand behind the body’s neck and pulls it out of the snow. It was a beautiful woman, long brown hair braided with flowers and vines that had been frozen and wilted in the snow, a large grey streak spread from a corner of her forehead. Ikkaku grabs the shoulders while Penguin grabbed the legs of the lifeless form. 

“Why isn’t it moving?” Penguin pulls on the legs. 

“Hmmph! It’s stuck on something… Hmmmpph!” Ikkaku tries to jostle the body free of the ice and snow. The duo pull and push on the body until something finally gives and it is released from the grip of the mountain. Suddenly, on one side of the body, a tattered black wing breaks free from the ice and flops back down. The second wing followed and slumped lifelessly next to the unconscious form. 

“What the hell is this thing?!?” Penguin exclaims. 

“I don’t know…” Ikkaku looks down at the strange person. “But Captain is definitely gonna wanna see this…” 

The two wordlessly agree to carry the body back down to the Heart Pirate safe house at the bottom of the mountain. 

— — 

“Captain! Law! Hurry!” Penguin yells as he runs into the base backwards carrying the legs of the unknown body. 

“Bring it to the med bay, if there’s any chance it’s still alive he’s going to want it in there.” Ikkaku hurries Penguin down the hallway to Captain Trafalgar Law’s surgery room that connected to his secluded office. 

Doors swinging open quickly, the pirates hoist the winged figure up onto the surgery table. The body laid lifelessly on the table while the shredded wings flopped lazily at its sides, tips nearly hitting the floor. Penguin collapsed against the wall behind him, breath heavy from the long, arduous journey back from the mountain with their new addition. 

The door to the adjoining office was flung open. 

“What the hell is this?” Law burst in and began pulling on a pair of blue rubber gloves. 

D, E, A, T, H.

H, T, A, E, D.

He slipped the gloves over each finger and moved towards the surgery table. 

“We found it on the mountain, Captain.” Ikkaku responds. “Under a blizzard and a landslide. I doubt it’s still alive.” 

Law wordlessly peruses the body. He stops by it’s neck and presses two fingers against it’s pulse point. 

E, A.

“There’s a pulse. She’s alive.” 

Ikkaku and Penguin look at each other and their eyes widen. 

“Bepo!” Law shouts. 

“Yes, Captain?” A large polar bear in an orange jump suit enters the operating suite. 

“Ready the surgery room.” Law eyes Penguin and Ikkaku gawking at each other. “You two, prepare for a procedure. Get Shachi too. This won’t be easy.” 

“Aye, Captain!” The duo immediately went to change their uniforms and scrub up for the procedure. 

—- —- —- —- 

“I need more stitches, Bepo.” Law states, muffled by the surgical mask in front of his nose and mouth. 

Law sits on a doctor’s stool sewing up the sinewy flesh on the being’s wings. It had taken him 2 hours, but Dr Trafalgar Law had already sewn up one wing and was finishing the other. It didn’t look good, even Law could admit that. He was just trying to stop the bleeding from the micro veins and tissue in the wing webbing. Bepo had hooked up the creature to machines to monitor its breathing and heart rate. 

“I-It’s a vampire. W-we should have left it out there.” Penguin says from the corner of the operating room. 

“If you can’t be helpful, leave.” Law states calmly without looking up from his work. 

“It’s not a vampire, you idiot.” Shachi remarks from his spot next to the body. “It’s that Straw Hat girl. You guys don’t remember her from the auction house?” 

This peaked Law’s interest. 

“Straw Hat? She’s with his crew?” Law takes a moment from his hunched position over the wing to look at the body’s unconscious face. He notices her button nose, full bottom lip, and her frostbitten skin. Law cocks his head. He remembers her from Sabaody now. She was with the young man in the Straw Hat. He recalls the information on her wanted poster. They had only left the chaos a few days earlier. 

“The botanist…” He mumbles under his breath. 

“Yeah! That’s it! They call her the Earthly Devil… Rito Daisy I think..” Shachi confirms. 

“Daisy…” Law says pensively. He looks at your peaceful face. His gaze lingers for a moment before returning to his work stitching up the flesh of his new patient. 

“Must be a Zoan type.” Bepo says from over Law’s shoulder. “She’s certainly no mink. The question is what kind of Zoan type makes wings like that…” The bear has worry and concern his voice. Law sighs and rises from his chair. 

“It’s not important right now.” He ties off his stitches and moves towards the body’s torso. “We need to set the bones. If we don’t do it now, it’ll be a lot more painful when she’s awake.” 

Law cracks his knuckles.

D, D, E, E, A, A, T, T, H, H. 

His crew members look at him expectantly.

“Well, let’s do it.” 

— —  

Burning. Bright. Fluorescent. 

“Ow… my eyes…” You mumble as you wake from a deep slumber. All you could see was artificial lights and steel ceilings. You knew you were not on the Sunny anymore, ToTo. You try to reach your arm to rub your eyes and found that both of them were shackled to the table you were laying on. 

You were a prisoner. 

Again. 

You heart throbbed in your chest. Your stomach dropped through your whole body. Someone had taken you captive again. How could this happen? You had aligned yourself with the strongest pirates the worst generation had to offer and yet here you were, strapped to a strangers ship just like was 8 years ago. 

“Hey…” You try to sit up.

“HEY!” You pull your body up further. 

“GET ME THE FUCK OUT OF HERE! HEY! HEEEEEY!” You try to lurch your body forward but you were met by sharp, extreme pain throughout your whole being. 

“Hey woah hold on relax it’s okay! We’re going to help you!” 

A voice comes from the corner of the room you couldn’t see due to your restraints. 

“Who… who are you! Get away from me! Let me go!” You shouted. 

“I know you’re freaking out right now but I promise we-“ 

You see who the voice was coming from. 

It was an 11 foot tall real-life anthropomorphic polar bear wearing an orange jumpsuit. Your eyes crossed in shock. 

“GET THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME YOU FUCKING CARNIVORE DON’T FUCKING TOUCH ME!” You pull at your restraints, ignoring the searing pain in your body. 

“No no! I wouldn’t! Please stop!” The bear raises his hands in front of his chest to signify he meant no harm, but you would’t believe it. You scream.

“AAAAH!” The metal restraints holding you down to the table broke under your strength, the material melting slightly. 

“CAPTAIN!!!! HELP!!!” The bear shrieked and cowered. 

“DON’T TOUCH ME!” You shouted and pushed yourself off the operating table and into the cabinet across the room, breaking the glass. You honed your eyes in on the polar bear. 

You spread your broken wings and they crash against the furniture in the cramped operating room, knocking over carts full of medical equipment. 

“Shit!” You groan in pain. 

“ROOM.” 

Suddenly, the air around you tuned light blue. You spun your head around, trying to see where the voice came from. 

“Shambles.”

You felt a body behind you. You breathed hard in suspense. 

“Shit, that burns!” An arm around around your torso pulls back. 

“Wha-?” You felt a sharp jab in your neck and then your eyelids closed. 

Three fingers pushed down the plunger of a syringe.

E, A, T. 

— — — —- —- -

“I have to go to Marine Ford. Picking up a patient. You stay here and make sure this patient stays sedated.” 

It had been a week and Law had been taking care of his new patient in his medical bay at the Heart Pirates safe house. Law had made sure that Daisy would stay unconscious during this time, pumping her full of sedatives. He needed the patient’s bones to heal. 

“Keep her sedated. I’ve left the exact measurements of medications in the folder on the desk. Make sure she stays unconscious. If she were to wake up now, the sheer volume of her broken bones would send her into another shock-like state.” Law gives the instructions to Shachi and Penguin. 

“G-got it Captain! You can leave it to us!” Penguin nods at his captain. 

“It might be a few days. Call only if it’s an emergency.” Law tosses Shachi a transponder snail and heads out of the base towards where the Polar Tang was docked, Bepo at his heels. 

“Great. What did you do that landed us in charge of the vampire girl? If she wakes up we are so fucked.” Penguin remarks at Shachi. 

“She won’t wake up. If we keep giving her meds, we’re in there like swim wear. It’s an easy gig.” Shachi laughs. “And if she does, so what? We just shoot her full of one of these…” Shachi grabs a syringe from a medical cart and squirts it into the air. “So what if she’s a Straw Hat? She’s their gardener. She’s about as dangerous as their damn musician. No real threat.” 

“I don’t feel real great about this, Shach…” Penguin remarks while rubbing his brow. 

[em-writes-stuff-sometimes]

My Work on Archive Of Our Own

Please ignore if me gushing about the reception of my fics is irritating. I understand there are some people who genuinely hate when fanfic writers do this, so I'm putting it under the cut so you don't have to see it!

(And fair warning; if this irritates you and you still decide to click 'keep reading' and you then decide that I am obviously up myself so I deserve a hate anon or several, I need to preemptively remind you that I gave you the choice not to engage. You will be blocked and I shall call you a silly little guy if you do this.)

I also would like to make this an invitation to anyone who wants to share their proudest stats, or a nice comment they got, or even just something they are really really happy about in having written their fic. (No need to click read more, just go for it and use this as your excuse to show some pride.) On any platform!

Gonna tag the following: @lya-dustin @ewanmitchellcrumbs @the-common-cowgirl @the-wonderland-madnesss @marthawrites

@vampire-exgirlfriend @exitpursuedbyavulcan @emilykaldwen @ripdragonbeans @aegonx

Feel free to turn this into a pass-on game, if you like! We should celebrate the things that make us happy, too. ❤️

I've not ever really posted about this because, IDK, I worry about being considered a conceited asshole. I figure, though, that this is my blog and my safe space and if I want to celebrate something I'm proud of then I should be able to do so. Nor am I implying that I believe this is any sort of metric of popularity or superiority, OR that I write for the sole purpose of validation through clicks and numbers. I have very little interest in engaging with any of that rhetoric. NO. It's just a convenient bonus, kinda like how I love my job and the fact I get paid is awesome but not my primary reason for doing it.

Okay, I think I've got the disclaimers out the way? (Can never be too sure with fandom.)

I just wanted to say thank you to everyone who reads my stuff. Not only on here, but on Archive Of Our Own, which is more or less a place I consider the Ultimate Fanfiction Site (TM). It used to be fanfiction.net for me, but then their ads got annoying and their content ban gross, so AO3 it is! I've read fanfiction on AO3 since I was like 13, and I still find it crazy beyond belief that my work is not only on there, but that it gets any sort of traction at all.

As a little acknowledgement of something I'm proud of, I wanted to document my stats on my big series, terms of endearment, as of June 2024. It is by and large the biggest project I have ever done, and I've poured countless hours of researching, writing and editing into it.

darilaros (princess)

Words: 48,843 Comments: 254 Kudos: 801 Bookmarks: 111 Hits: 21,971

gevivys (beauty)

Words: 52,147  Comments: 578  Kudos: 2,965  Bookmarks: 490  Hits: 106,019

dōnus riñus (sweet girl)

Words: 58,775 Comments: 660 Kudos: 3,414 Bookmarks: 635 Hits: 141,339

ilībītsos (little slut)

Words: 62,725 Comments: 556 Kudos: 1,880 Bookmarks: 289 Hits: 99,939

ñuhus prūmȳs (my heart)

Words: 104,063 Comments: 1,188 Kudos: 2,274 Bookmarks: 368 Hits: 110,356

jorrāeliarzus (beloved) (ongoing)

Words: 38,451 Comments: 234 Kudos: 454 Bookmarks: 86 Hits: 16,208

That makes for a total of 365,004 words; 3,470 comments; 11,788 kudos; 1979 bookmarks; and 495,832 hits. Jesus Christ.

To everyone who kudos'ed, commented, bookmarked, subscribed or even just clicked on the link to the fic, thank you very much. This series has grown and grown, not just in my head but also in audience. It's given me so much encouragement and support in my writing, and a feeling like maybe I am decent at this? I don't know. I used to write when I was a kid, but I stopped during high school. Rediscovering the joy of it hasn't just been rewarding in terms of having fun with it, but also in discovering that there are people who genuinely want to read what I'm putting out. I've spent a lot of my life feeling powerless and silenced, so this really means so much to me.

I am going to keep on writing for as long as I possibly can, because I genuinely haven't found a hobby as long-lived and fulfilling as this.

Thank you. I'm so very lucky. I'm so grateful. I love you all!

[marthawrites]

Beneath the Blooming Branches

Rhaenyra Targaryen x fem reader

Word count: 800+

About: Spring has officially sprung. You and Rhaenyra enjoy a quiet afternoon strolling and picnicking in the gardens.

Includes: Soft wlw fluff 🩷

Note: Hello lovely reader! This fic was inspired by @hotd-bigbang! It is purely self-indulgent because our dragon queen deserves more soft moments. I wrote this with young Rhaenyra in mind, but you can use whichever Nyra your heart desires! As always, reader is non-descript. Please, enjoy!

Cross posted on ao3 too!

-

“Would this be considered improper if anyone were to see us, princess?” You asked Rhaenyra in an excited, hushed voice, keeping pace with her agile steps out of the Red Keep and into the gardens. On your arm was a small basket of treats. During your time as one of the princess’ maid servants you discovered she had quite the sweet tooth. Some of her favorites were: candied lemon slices, candied orange slices, and sponge cake drizzled with honey. You just so happened to have all of those in your basket–along with a couple extra treats, too.

A small smile quirked her lips as her fingers interlaced between your own, continuing to drag you along the path. “Perhaps you have me mistaken for a princess who cares what others might think?” With a playful arch of brow her smirk gave way to a wide dazzling grin. Her clean teeth and pale purple eyes sparkled in spring's midday sun.

For a moment you weren't sure what to say. When she smiled like that–truly smiled–your belly and heart did silly little flips that stopped you in your tacks. She was lovely in a maroon silk dress with delicate lace details accented by pearls. In the high noon, her golden jewelry gleamed on her ivory skin like pure strings of sunlight. Radiant. How someone like her developed such a fancy for you was one of the biggest mysteries of your heart! You felt dull next to her in your common servant attire. But, beneath the neckline of your dress, you felt the silver chain dotted with its tiny crystals against your chest that she had gifted you; pretty, beautiful.

Rhaenyra was good at keeping secrets. As were you.

Besides, a headstrong Targaryen dragging her favorite maid around hardly looked suspicious. Simply two girls out enjoying the change of spring weather!

“Oh, silly me. Apologies, princess, I must have been thinking of someone else,” you winked.

“Just as I thought.”

Giggling, while still walking hand in hand, Rhaenyra led you along the garden's path. Sun dappled through bright green flowering trees making her silver hair glow. Fragrances–lilac, rose, lilly–filled your senses. The gentle ever-present buzz of bees hazed your brain in the best of ways. Each time Rhaenyra smiled at you, or squeezed your hand affectionately, magic bloomed to sweeten the memory this would soon become.

Between gossip, jokes, and easy conversation, you barely noticed how much time passed. 

“Oh! Let's stay here,” she said wistfully, tipping her head back to stare up at a blooming cherry tree. One of the prettiest sights this time of season. 

Next thing you knew you were laying out a blanket to sit upon beneath the pink and white tree; petals falling lazily from its branches like gentle snowflakes. Worker bees were louder here than anywhere else. Calm. Relaxing. You sat with a contented sigh. “I've brought your favorites. Are you hungry?” you asked, eyes bright.

“Always so sweet for me,” Rhaenyra replied as she carefully knelt behind you so as to not wrinkle her dress. “First, though, I want to do something.”

Since she was behind you you couldn't even see her from your peripheral. You trusted her, though. Maybe that's why butterflies twirled in your belly. You felt her fingers gently loosen your hair until it lay loose and natural. Despite the gentleness–or perhaps in spite of it–a shudder ran all along your spine and you couldn't help but squirm. A little. “What are you doing?” You asked, turning your head over your shoulder curiously.

“Hold still,” she answered with mock seriousness. Then, she added, softer, “I'm going to braid your hair and put cherry blossoms in it.”

You bit your bottom lip in an attempt to not let out a tiny squeak of delight. “Ooh! Okay. Afterward, it's my turn to give you a surprise,” you proclaimed sweetly with a glance at your basket. A smile grew on your mouth and your cheeks warmed with joy. By the time Rhaenyra was done you could have dozed off against her in the warm sun.

“There,” she said, a gentle ‘aww’ escaping her. “I wish you could see it from the back! It's so lovely.”

“I'll be careful so that when we return to the Red Keep I can use two looking glasses to see it at the right angle," you promised. Grabbing for your basket, you turned around so you were both kneeling and facing each other. “Ready for mine?”

“Yes!”

You opened the basket and pulled out a clear glass jar of preserved, still plump, cherries. “From the last harvest,” you said, beaming. “How extra fitting that we can share them here.”

“How did you know I've been craving these?” She asked with bright eyes.

You shrugged, grinning. “Just a hunch.” The seal popped when you opened it, and the scent of syrupy sugar and perfectly ripened cherries wafted from the jar. You pulled one out by the stem and offered it to Rhaenyra. 

Taking it, she savored it as she ate it. Then, she did the same for you. 

Cherry after cherry, you shared the treat. By the end of the small jar both of your fingertips were stained red, as were your lips, and it made the kisses that followed all the sweeter; a saccharine secret beneath the heavily bloomed branches.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

To be added or removed from the taglist, hit me up!

Masterlist

Main taglist: @watercolorskyy @melsunshine @girlwith-thepearlearring @arcielee @barbiedragon @targaryen-dynasty @succnfuccubus @fan-goddess @schniiipsel

[seaoflove07]

Love Planted a Rose 🌹

~ Cover Reveal ~

• Artwork by The Drawables • Oc •

🔪 Azusa & Rose 🌹

Before they met,

He was the young man from her nightmares

She was a Princess in his dreams…

~ Dark ~

Story Description:

The year was 2022 when Karlheinz discovered a special young woman named Christine living in the United States. He formed a new plan. The Adam and Eve project is still not completed but it was going his way. Yui Komori made her choice and chose Ayato as her Adam. Both of them are madly in love.

When a new situation came to Karlheinz's attention, he saw Christine could be the key to solving what was about to come to the Demon World.

That summer he offers her a good salary pay to work as a housekeeper at the Mukami’s Mansion in Japan. The payment was too good to pass on. She accepts the job not knowing that they are vampires. She will find out and he made sure that escaping will cost the lives of her loved ones back home. Before he can go through this new plan, Christine needs to interact with the Mukami brothers, Yui, and his sons first.

Until then, He will let them all have their little fun. Till the time comes for his plan to be ready.

Blood from a special rose will be needed. 🩸

“I want you… near me… even if you end up… hating me… I will still want you… by my side…”

- Azusa. Quote from Chapter 3.

Art Cover Inspiration:

~ Hans Zatzka ~

I've been a fan of Hans Zatzka’s fantasy paintings since I was a little girl. I love the entire aesthetic of Nature, Fairies, Angels, Rivers, Flowers, Dresses, and Romance. He includes all these in his paintings.

Even though Azusa and Christine’s story is not a fantasy fairytale. I still wanted this inspiration for the cover because three weeks before Azusa met Christine. His dreams were in a world that looked like Hans Zatzka's Paintings. The dress that Christine is wearing on the art cover is the dress that she was always wearing when she appeared in Azusa’s dreams. It's also a dress that I chose from Zatzka's Paintings.

I chose this one because of the blue waist ribbon. This same exact shade of blue is Azusa’s color representation from Rejet.

So I used this as a hidden symbol that she is his. 🔪🌹

For him, I choose an official art by Rejet. I wanted an outfit to represent that he is a vampire.

These are the rest of Hans Zatzka's paintings' inspiration for the artwork cover. 🎨

A little Information:

Dark Novel setting will be in the Summer Season.

During the School Year setting, I will add that in the second and third novels. (Maniac and Esctasy)

Why the year 2022?

That year I was in a Dark place mentally and was very depressed. Some of my dark issues, I wrote it through Christine. They say writing is a good way to heal. So part of this Fan Fiction story has been my healing process.

That's why I am so passionate about this ship. Christine and Azusa are my comfort characters. Both of them make me happy.

Writing Style:

Will be like the game routes.

Script Style.

Arts:

I will include artworks in some chapters.

I decided to add the artworks in Black and White to give it a little novel style. Once I complete publishing the full story, I will do a post with all the artworks I used for the story in color.

Where will it be published?

Tumblr and AO3.

Story:

Masterpost. 🔪🌹

Note:

I am not a professional writer. Writing is new to me. This is my first time ever writing a story. I have written small fan fiction of Azusa and Rose before but that's basically it. I started writing last year, and I am still learning.

[fleur-a-whump]

Hey!

....I guess it's about time I got around to doing this, huh? I'm Alise. I'm an adult and I use she/her. I've been around a while, building up from lurking to interacting to posting in this community. I've been writing whump as a hobby since I was around ten years old, but I didn't discover the actual whump genre until I was in high school, and even then it was just on ao3. honestly, finding this community has done incredible things for me, because it allowed me the space to freely enjoy something I've long had a deeply guilty pleasure for. my relationship with whump hasn't always been healthy as I've used it a lot as a coping mechanism and I attached a lot of misplaced guilt and shame to that enjoyment. but learning about other people's relationships with it and exploring why I use it as a coping mechanism has helped me so much. like I've learned so much about myself through this community, and I've received nothing but kindness and encouragement from people in the community as I dipped my toes in. you are all incredible and I can say nothing but thank you for everything you've done for me so far.

ANYWAY now for the fun stuff

My Writing:

Overloaded - ex-villain whumpee, hero whumpers, hero caretakers, supervillain whumpers, multiple whumpers and caretakers, bad team dynamics, shock collar

Asks are totally open btw!!!

loves:

kidnapping/captivity

restraints/bondage/gags

hero and villain stuff, especially villain whumpee

pet whump

just about any supernatural whump, especially demon and vampire whumpees

team dynamics!

RANSOM/HOSTAGE SITUATIONS

I do enjoy nsfwhump so you will see that on my blog

carewhumpers and caretaker new whumper

intimate whump

comfort and recovery arcs (I swear I'm going soft, I'm now actively seeking out recovery series lmao)

dislikes:

I need at the very minimum the possibility of a happy ending

on the same wavelength, I kinda hate character death

medical/lab whump

I tag like a mad woman so stuff should be pretty well labeled I hope

I guess thats all. thanks for having me :)

[ladysarai]

@inception30daychallenge, Day 31: A letter to Inception fandom.

Dear Inception Fandom,

Friends, I am Old. I have been around the block and back again. I am old enough to have read fanfic on the computers in the school library and printed out fics for my friends because they did not have computers at home. I read fanfic on dial up. I cut my teeth on fanfic on FF.Net, on AngelFire websites, and on AOL Message Boards.

I say this ONLY because I want you all to know How Long I have been in Fannish Spaces, and how many fandoms I have been involved in, so that you can believe me when I say: I have NEVER encountered a fandom like this one.

If you look at my AO3, you'll see that most of my posted fics are dated prior to 2010. I spent most of my 30s not being particularly fannish. I didn't post fics. Once LJ made the move to DW, I lost track of fandoms and friends (and never really grasped Tumblr, tbh), and whatever writing I did, I kept to myself. I thought I had lost the ability to get fannishly obsessive over a piece of fiction. There are a lot of Real Life reasons for this--jobs, health, family crap, mental health, selling my home and building a new one, working in healthcare during COVID... And I was put on a medication a few years ago that, it turns out, basically induced depression, but I didn't realize it until February of this year, when I stopped taking it.

It was like a switch was thrown in my brain, and I suddenly wanted to read fanfic and create again! It was great! And one day I was rereading old fics by a favorite author and thought "what else did they write?" and saw they had Inception fics. I thought "huh. That was a fun movie. It provided the premise for the very best RP game I've ever been involved in. Why not?"

As they say, the rest is history. I fell down the rabbit hole of Inception fanfics, discovered an obsession with Arthur/Eames, and dragged my bestie @nutterzoi down with me. I swear that in April, I watched that movie basically every other day for the entire month. And then we started writing fics. I have now posted FOUR Inception fanfics since the middle of June. With Zoe, I'm working on a Big Bang and on several other fics. We literally have a gdoc of ideas for fics because otherwise we will forget them all.

This is all great, Sara, but what about the fandom? Guys. Friends. Zoe and I have been writing fanfic together basically nonstop since before Y2k. We have not posted any of our fanfic since prior to 2010. UNTIL NOW. And the reason I am happy to write and post fanfic? For other people to see and read?? Is because of YOU, the fandom.

This movie is 14 years old, but the fandom is alive and active. Arthur and Eames have about 3 minutes of screen time together, but over 8,000 fics on AO3! @inceptiversary came along just as I was finding my footing here on Tumblr, and MAN, the things everyone has come up with for @inception30daychallenge just blow my mind! The creativity, attention to details, impressive meta and gorgeous fanart and graphics are incredible. Maybe some of the reasons this fandom is so calm and comforting is that I missed the early growing pains, but it is FUN to come into a well established fandom with so much to read and see!

But even more than that... this fandom is KIND, and WELCOMING. I point out again that I am Old. I have reached the point in my life that I do not want to spend time around people or spaces that are not comfortable, especially online, which is where I go for my escapism and fun. Every single person I have interacted with in the Inception fandom has been friendly and encouraging. I hope you all know just how rare this is for both a fandom and for an online space. THANK YOU for being so wonderful. In more ways than one, you have restored my faith in fandoms and fannish spaces, and in my place in them. I certainly hope you're all okay with being stuck with me, because I do not see myself going anywhere.

Thank you for giving back a part of myself that I thought was lost and gone forever.

Love,

Sara

[shiroxichigo]

I've been informed (and have confirmed it myself) that my fanfic "I AM Zangetsu" has been stolen and uploaded to a YouTube channel called "YaMochiWhatIfs"

I have not given this channel permission, and it appears to be a content farm (not someone who made an honest mistake, but someone deliberately stealing content to make a profit).

I am making this post to make people aware that:

this YouTube channel is run by a thief

that if someone by the name EsquireBot (CopyKnight) reaches out to you on AO3 about your fanfic potentially being stolen, they are LEGIT

and that you can submit a copyright claim to YouTube if you discover any of your fanfics have been uploaded by this user (as of this post, I have successfully submitted a claim and the video with my work was taken down)

Anyway, PLEASE do not interact with this channel. Block them. And keep in mind that ONLY I can issue a take down as the copyright holder on my work.

DO NOT try to issue take downs on other people's behalf. DO NOT comment on the video. And DO NOT engage with the content since this will only encourage the YouTube algorithm to spread it.

Protect your work, guys! 💜

PS: if you want to use any of my fics to make a video, comic, etc - you totally can! Just make sure it falls under transformative work. This person just took my fanfic word for word and put it into a text to speech bot, then uploaded it. Didn't add anything whatsoever. And also monetized MY work. Something I wrote for people to enjoy for free, they were profiting off of.

[nekoannie-chan]

Unexpected revenge

Unexpected revenge

Title: Unexpected revenge

Fandom: Marvel, Captain America.

Ship: Steve Rogers X Ex-HYDRA Agent!Reader.

Word count: 693 words.

Rating: Mature.

Summary: Steve found you after 2 years.

Major Tags: Revenge, smut.

Additional tags: This is my entry for the @mercurial-chuckles Smutty September Fest with the prompt #9:

“Revenge sex.”

Links: Wattpad, Ao3, Spanish version.

@saiyanprincessswanie

My native language is Spanish so I wanna improve my writing skills in English if you notice any mistakes, please let me know and I will correct them.

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The moonlight filtered through the curtains of the small apartment where you had managed to hide. You could only hear the soft pattering of the rain against the glass. You were standing in front of the window, watching the drops slide down the glass, trapped in your thoughts. It had been two years since you last saw Steve Rogers.

Steve had discovered that you belonged to HYDRA, but he never let you explain that you had been forced, you would never forget his face.

Now, two years later, you were in hiding, finally able to have a quiet week without being on the run. You had left HYDRA shortly after your separation from Steve, but you knew they would never let you go so easily. The organization wanted you dead for your betrayal, and the government still considered you a dangerous criminal, perhaps you always would be.

A knock on the door brought you out of your thoughts. You turned to the door and approached cautiously. You peered through the peephole, and the air escaped your lungs when you saw Steve standing in the hallway, soaking wet from the rain, you immediately opened the door.

“Steve...” you murmured in surprise.

“May I come in? “he asked.

You nodded and stepped back to let him in. Steve walked in, leaving a trail of water on the floor. He stood in the middle of the room, looking at you as if he didn't know where to start. The silence between the two of you was very uncomfortable. You cleared your throat, breaking the silence.

“What are you doing here, Steve? “you finally questioned.

Steve took a deep breath before answering.

“I've been looking for you,” he answered. I wanted... I needed to understand why.

That “why” was full of meanings. Why had you joined HYDRA? Why hadn't you told him? Why had you betrayed him? But most of all, why couldn't he forget you yet?

You sat on the edge of the bed, unable to hold his gaze any longer.

“I never wanted to hurt you, Steve. I never wanted to be in HYDRA. They forced me, kidnapped me when I was a little girl. And then you already knew the truth... and I'd already lost you.

“You know I can never forgive HYDRA for what they've done,” he said finally.

“I don't expect you to forgive me, Steve,” you said, getting up and walking over to him. I just want you to know that I loved you, even when I couldn't tell you. I loved you with all my being, but I also knew that, in the end, it would all come crashing down.

“I loved you too,” he admitted in a whisper, ”and I think I still do, in spite of everything.

Your eyes met his, finally, it was Steve who broke the distance between them. He grabbed you around the waist and pulled you to him, his lips seeking yours with a great desperation.

The kiss intensified, and Steve gently pushed you down onto the bed. You knew where this was going, and though a part of you told you it wasn't the right thing to do, another, larger part simply couldn't resist. You needed him as much as he needed you, even if it was just for one night, for one more time.

As his hands roamed your body, his lips moved down your neck. Your skin burned under his touch, you needed more.

“Steve...” you murmured his name, unable to form coherent words.

“I need you...” he whispered against your ear.

Hours later, you lay in bed, wrapped in the sheets, Steve's body cradled against yours. You closed your eyes.

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, he slid out of bed carefully, making sure you didn't wake up, dressed quietly, walked over to you and kissed you on the forehead, left the letter on the pillow and headed for the door.

When you woke up, you saw the empty place and the letter, you read it and the tears started to come out of your eyes uncontrollably, at last Steve had taken his revenge.

[imgeekgirlfan]

The Curse of Cassandra [EP : X]

Read in Ao3 : here

Pairings :  Qimir x f!reader(SEA Reader)  [The Acolyte]

Content Rating : Mature 18+ Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warning (AT YOUR OWN RISK)

tags/themes : Alternate Universe - Dune & Star wars, Partners in Crime, Strangers to Lovers

Summary : At the Jedi Temple, everyone confronted a shocking truth about themselves, whether it was Sol, Yord, or yourself.

Status: just finished writing this fic! (It will end in Episode 14)

A/N : I'm not spoiling anything, but two things: First, Qimir's out of the picture for a bit after this, while the story shifts to the Jedi Temple, where you'll learn more about his and the reader's backstories. Second, there's a super important character here you won't want to miss.

Ps.If you enjoy my work, please reblog it. Just liking the post won’t help others discover it.

➡  Intro // EP : 1 // EP : 2 // EP : 3 // EP : 4 // EP : 5 // EP : 6 // EP : 7 // EP : 8 // EP : 9 // EP : 11 // EP : 12 // EP : 13 // EP : 14 (Completed)

Special OS : Phantom Thread

[Episodes 10] Hand of God be my witness; I am the voice from the outer world

They won't believe me.

The thought crosses your mind as you survey the interrogation room in the Jedi Temple on Olega. The room is nearly barren, with bare gray concrete walls and no windows, furnished only with a table and two chairs on opposite sides. You choose the inner seat, facing the door, patiently awaiting the arrival of another.

It isn't long before the steel door slides open, revealing the tall, gaunt figure of a middle-aged man dressed in a yellow Jedi uniform. Sol’s expression is grave as he takes the chair opposite you. Without preamble, he begins to speak. “I apologize for keeping you waiting. The things you’ve told us are... quite shocking.” He pauses briefly, then continues with a polite tone, “It will take time to verify the truth of all this, and we may not reach a conclusion soon.”

You reflect on everything you've revealed to them earlier. You told them all they needed to know—that Qimir was behind the Jedi slaughter on this planet and that he was a Sith Lord disguised as a harmless apothecary, hiding right under their noses for years.

To the Jedi, however, your account is just hearsay. After all, everything you said came from your visions, lacking tangible evidence to prove your story—no proof that what you saw was real and not some fevered delusion.

You know your fate hangs by a thread. There’s a strong chance the Jedi will deem you delusional and might even cast you out of the Temple. That is a risk you cannot afford to take, especially when Qimir knows you have escaped and is relentlessly pursuing you. Nowhere in the galaxy will be safe for you except under the protection of the Jedi Order. It's your only hope for survival.

“You don’t believe me either, do you?” You decide to test the waters, assessing Sol's demeanor behind his neutral exterior.

Sol clears his throat, visibly uncomfortable as he speaks. “I can't say I believe everything you've said, but I don't think you have a reason to lie, given that you admitted this man was your lover.” His gaze meets yours with sincerity. “But some parts don’t make sense...”

“It doesn’t make sense because you believe the Sith have long since vanished," you interject, interrupting him before he can finish. "But I'm telling the truth. I've told you everything. Qimir is a Sith Lord. His goal is the destruction of the Jedi Order, and he won't stop until he achieves it.”

Sol sighs. He remains skeptical of your words and seems caught between belief and doubt, but can’t help feeling concerned, aware that this issue is far too serious to ignore. The implications of your claims could threaten not just the Jedi Order but the stability of the entire galaxy. It is beyond the capacity of a single Jedi Master to decide alone. “The problem is we have no evidence to confirm the Sith still exist,” Sol says cautiously, his tone now even more guarded. “And the way in which these Jedi were killed doesn’t align with typical Sith methods.”

"But it aligns with Jedi methods," you murmur, though Sol hears every word clearly. "He kills Jedi in the Jedi way. That's why you initially suspected the culprit might be one of your own, or perhaps a former Jedi."

Sol's eyes widen in shock, staring at you as if your words are the most startling thing he has ever heard. "How do you know all of this?" he asks urgently, his voice laced with confusion. He clearly remembers that none of these details were shared with you. So where did you get this information?

You offer him a faint, mysterious smile, one that makes Sol feel unsettled in ways he cannot fully explain.

"I know what you know. And I know what you don’t," you say, your blue eyes momentarily distant and lost in thought. "Your suspicions aren’t wrong. Qimir isn’t his real name, and he was once a Padawan among you. As for the rest... you’ll have to find the answers from your own people—someone who knows him far better than I do."

Sol is taken aback, concern reflected on his face. For the first time, the words of this stranger evoke a pang of fear within him. "Who are you talking about? Who among us knows the Sith Lord?"

"Your friend, Master Vernestra."

Sol furrows his brow, thinking of the Mirialan Jedi Master, who is indeed his friend. At this point, Sol's doubts multiply as he struggles to find answers for himself. How does she know about Vernestra when they've never even met? he wonders.

Sol turns his gaze back to you, his eyes now filled with analysis and wariness. He's no longer sure how to feel about you—whether to be amazed or afraid.

"Who are you really?" he finally asks.

In truth, the more appropriate question would have been, “What are you?”

You sense the confusion and doubt etched on his face, making you start to wonder as well. "You really don't know who I am?" you ask, almost to yourself.

Sol shakes his head, not pausing to consider his response. "I don't know you, and I’m sure no one else here does either."

How is that even possible? You wonder; the memory is still vivid. When Qimir first captured you, he warned that the Jedi were after you too. You were certain their intentions were the same as everyone else's—to claim the power of the last Bene Gesserit for themselves. That's why you always avoided the Jedi. But when things changed between you and Qimir, you had no choice but to reluctantly seek refuge with the Jedi, knowing it was your best chance to evade Qimir.

You had prepared yourself for the possibility that your secret would be exposed here, which is why you dared to use your visions in front of Sol. Even though you hadn’t said you were a Bene Gesserit, you knew that the Jedi, who already held an interest in the Bene Gesserit, could easily piece the truth together on their own.

Yet, Sol’s response is not what you expected.

Confusion swirls within you as you meet Sol’s gaze. You desperately want to peer into his thoughts to understand what he’s truly thinking, but you can’t do that. Despite having prophetic powers, you lack the ability to read minds like a Force user. This limitation makes predicting the future so difficult—human thoughts are ever-changing, and so too is destiny.

However, Bene Gesserit training provides a solution to this weakness through a technique known as the 'Way of Perception.' This method focuses on observing every minute detail in your conversation partner’s movements—like the slightest twitch of a facial muscle, a shift in the eyes, or a swallow—each subtle gesture that reveals their true intentions. By employing this meticulous observation, a Bene Gesserit can analyze another’s thoughts, discerning truth from deception without relying on the Force.

You use the Way of Perception on Sol, meticulously observing his reactions and analyzing them as you have been trained in the ways of the Bene Gesserit. What you discover is that he’s telling the truth. Sol and the others here neither know of nor acknowledge the existence of someone like you—a Bene Gesserit.

In that moment, a realization hits you with blinding clarity—a truth you have never considered until now: Qimir has been lying to you all along.

You remember when he first approached you out of sheer curiosity, manipulating your fear of the Jedi to keep you from running. He worked to earn your trust, all in a bid to uncover your secrets. When Qimir finally learned that secret, he realized you were too valuable to fall into anyone else’s hands. So, he killed everyone who knew about you, all to keep your power under his control.

And what better way to control someone than through love?

That’s exactly what he did to you. Qimir tried to make you fall in love with him, to surrender yourself completely—body and soul—to serve his grander purpose. His ultimate plan was to resurrect the Sith and exact revenge on the Jedi. With the aid of a Bene Gesserit, he believed he could conquer the universe.

But what throws everything off course is that Qimir, instead of merely seeing you as a tool to achieve his goals, has become genuinely attached and has fallen in love with you. 

Then, when you decided to drink the Water of Life, you allowed yourself to foresee the terrible future that unfolded, with countless possibilities and impossibilities stretching out before you.

You know that Qimir's plans will never succeed. Sooner or later, he will meet his end before reaching his goal. Even so, your bloodline and his will succeed nonetheless. Anakin Skywalker will become everything Qimir has ever aspired to be—the one to lead the Sith to greatness, the one who brings the Jedi to their ultimate demise. 

And so it goes, you think to yourself. You expected to feel more sorrow, yet you find your thoughts and heart curiously cold.

As days pass, you lose more and more of yourself. It’s as if you’re no longer human but merely a data system, recording and processing the flow of events in your mind. Fate itself has become nothing more than a set of data inputs into a system, repeating endlessly until it loses all meaning.

You resign yourself, allowing your mind to swim once more in the currents of temporal data, hoping you can still alter those paths, even if only slightly.

And you decide to start with Sol.

"I know what you did on Brendok ten years ago, Master Sol."

Your voice comes out deeper and raspier than usual, almost resembling a man's voice rather than your own.

Those words hit Sol like thunderbolts. You instantly read his reaction, analyzing every movement. The tensing of his shoulders betrays the fear he's trying to suppress. Sweat beads on his temple, indicating pressure and dread. His lips tremble, momentarily rendering him speechless.

It’s a secret Sol has kept hidden from everyone. In the past, when he was still a Jedi Knight, Sol was part of a team assigned to explore Brendok after the planet endured a devastating natural disaster. There, he encountered twin girls named Osha and Mae—children born of the Force, raised by a coven of witches, a group of women attempting to mimic the ways of the Bene Gesserit, who had been hiding on this planet for quite some time.

The twins' strong connection to the Force sparked Sol’s hope that they could undergo training to become Jedi Padawans. However, the witch coven opposed him fiercely. Osha and Mae were the future of their coven; they wanted the girls to inherit the witches' path. They didn't want the Jedi to take their children away, as had happened to other families across the galaxy before.

Tensions between the witches and the Jedi finally reached a breaking point when Sol accidentally killed Aniseya, the twins' mother and the leader of the witch coven. This triggered a violent battle, resulting in the deaths of the entire coven, including the twins, who were trapped in a burning building during the fight.

That calamity has haunted Sol ever since, a nightmare and stigma he has carried to this day.

The entire story was covered up by the surviving Jedi, as this grave mistake could have led to their permanent expulsion from the Order. There's no way an outsider like you could know this secret, which is precisely why you bring it up. You understand that this is the only way to prove the truth of your words and make Sol fully believe what you’re about to reveal to him.

You lock eyes with Sol, unwavering, before unveiling your truth.

"I possess foresight. I can perceive all secrets and discern the fates of every life. That is why you must trust me."

What’s happening to Master Sol?

Yord ponders, watching as the once-calm Jedi Master suddenly storms out of the interrogation room, his face pale as if he has just seen something profoundly terrifying.

For a moment, Yord hesitates. He considers asking what happened but ultimately decides to stay silent. He remains where he is, observing from afar as Sol approaches. Yord notices that Sol seems entirely unaware of his presence, lost in his own thoughts and drifting past him as if he isn’t even there.

Yord's gaze follows the Jedi Master until he disappears down the hall. A frown forms on Yord’s face before he turns his attention to the steel door of the interrogation room where Sol had just exited.

Suddenly, Yord feels it—a deep, undeniable sense of certainty, as certain as knowing the sun rises in the east and sets in the west. He knows what's inside that room. He knows exactly what made Master Sol so shaken. He knows who is in there.

Yord bites his lip, torn between the urge to open that door and simply walk away. But curiosity wins over; he takes a step forward, tension rippling through his body. Cautiously, he pushes the door open and steps inside.

There you are, seated on a chair, with only a metal table separating you from him. You greet him with a faint smile, your demeanor calm, showing no surprise, as if you’ve been waiting for him all along, or perhaps you already knew he would come.

“It’s good to see you again, Yord.”

Hearing his name makes Yord freeze. It’s not just the fact that you know his name, even though he’s never told you, but the way you say it—your words and tone are exactly as they were in his dream last night.

There’s something eerily familiar about you, something Yord can’t quite shake off. It’s as if you and he share a connection that runs far deeper than the mere acquaintance, although he still doesn't know who you really are.

For the first time, Yord begins to suspect that he’s caught up in a mysterious and complex pattern beyond his understanding—something his mind can barely comprehend. 

And he knows. The only person who can explain it all is you.

Yord takes a deep breath and moves to sit in the chair across from you, his hands clenching nervously in his lap. “This might sound strange, but... I dreamt about you before we even met,” he says, the words spilling out before he can stop them. “I saw your life. I glimpsed what has happened and what will happen to you. How is that possible? Why do I feel like I've known you all my life when we've just met?”

“Dreams are messages from the deep,” you reply. “They’re a form of prophecy, a sign of the gift we both share. But your family's lineage has abandoned the old ways, which is why your power is weaker than mine.”

Yord senses a hint of sympathy in your voice. Though you speak of it as a gift, he can tell you view it more as a burden—an inescapable curse.

His eyes lock onto yours, searching for answers, but when your piercing blue gaze meets his, it feels like you’re the one reading him instead. In that instant, he’s certain that those eyes can see straight into the depths of his soul.

"You mentioned my family... Do you already know who I am?" he asks. 

"I do," you nod. "Our ancestors are connected."

With each word you speak, Yord’s confusion only deepens. "How do you know all of this? Did you see it in a vision?"

"I didn’t see it; I was there," you correct him. "I stood at the mouth of the cave the day my sister was born. I held her in my arms. That child grew into a woman, and eventually she loved and secretly gave birth to a daughter before she died. Your bloodline began with her."

"How is that even possible?" he argues, his voice growing tense. "How could you have been there thousands of years ago?"

"I’m not telling you this to make you believe. I’m simply informing you." You give Yord a gentle smile, a fond smile like an elder gives to a child. "If we’re counting, you are as much my descendant as she is."

Yord raises an eyebrow in surprise. He just notices that your choice of pronouns has suddenly shifted. Instead of using ‘I’ to refer to yourself, you now use ‘she’ as if you’re speaking about someone else.

And then it hits him. Yord suddenly realizes that the woman in front of him is no longer herself. Her spirit is tainted, like clear water muddied with black ink. Something is possessing her—something he both fears and cannot comprehend, like an ancient mystery sealed away for eons, only now unraveling.

“Who the hell are you?!” Yord shouts, one hand instinctively reaching for the lightsaber at his side, ready to strike if the person in front of him makes any sudden moves.

But you remain calm, unshaken by the threat of violence. "You know exactly who I am," you reply evenly. "Think carefully. Your mother warned you about my coming. You’ve always known who I am, just as I’ve always known who you are."

Your words send a shiver down Yord’s spine. His throat tightens, and he finds himself unable to speak. 

He remembers clearly what his mother warned him about before she passed away. Her wrinkled hand gripped his tightly as she whispered the important secret of the universe that no one knew except him—the return of that person.

All his life, Yord had dismissed those words as nothing more than the ramblings of a dying woman—just imagination and meaningless superstition. But today, when he faced you himself, he finally realizes that it was all true.

As the truth crashes down on him, Yord unknowingly utters the words.

“Lisan Al-Gaib.”

A/N :

Yord when he know who you are

[unseededtoast]

Light As A Feather | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: The gravity of your job begins getting to you, and you come to realize you've forgotten how beautiful life can be. And one tranquil night, it's like Spencer is able to lift the weight and makes you feel light as a feather. Inspired by Hozier's "I, Carrion (Icarian)"

Cross posted on Wattpad and AO3 and here is my masterlist!

Word Count: 8.7k

Warnings: General violence, angst, pining. Poorly Edited

a/n: howdy folks. I'm still in my spencer reid/hozier brainrot era and so here's another. I hope you all enjoy it and thank you for all of the support I've received, it means the world!!

His presence is enough to make you forget about the horrors of the world, of your job. Right now, it's just you and him, and you've never felt lighter; so unburdened. You're convinced that if he wasn't there, holding onto you with his magnetic pull, that you may just float away in the breeze like a feather. 

You had never been to Colorado before, and now you wish you could be here under different circumstances. It's the beginning of fall and it seems as if the people of Boulder are head over heels in love with the season. Which is understandable, you think you'd love fall this much too if you lived in a place this beautiful. The trees are painted in vibrant shades of yellow, orange, and red and the distant mountains stand proudly in the background with their snow capped tops. Your eyes are glued to the lush landscape as the SUV drives through Boulder to reach your destination.

You, along with the rest of your team, were called by the Park Rangers from the Rocky Mountain National Park about a few bodies they had discovered. Your superior, Hotch, decided their case was odd enough for you all to pay a visit. At first you hadn't wanted to come, convinced that there would be something closer to home to tend to, but now you're glad you agreed to come. Fall time in Quantico just isn't as picturesque.

Eventually, the SUV you're crammed into alongside three of your other team members drives up a long winding driveway to a hidden cabin in the woods. Hotch had booked the place, seeing as how close it is to the National Park and how secluded it is from potential people of interest. Once again, you tried to argue that the cellphone reception would be terrible up here and that it might hinder the case, but you were outvoted, and the rest of the team wanted to stay here. You hadn't understood why, but when the venue comes into view your jaw almost drops and you understand.

The cabin isn't at all what you had been expecting. Instead of some run-down, small, stuffy house, you see a large, sprawling log mansion. There are large windows adorning the front, accompanied by a wraparound porch on the second level. It's very reminiscent of a tasteful ski lodge.

"Wow." You breathe out as the car comes to a stop outside the front door.

"Still think it's a bad idea?" Hotch smarts off as he opens the trunk and starts handing people their bags. Fighting the urge to roll your eyes, you grab your bag from him and stare up at your home for the next few days.

The rest of the team wastes no time in going inside to claim their room, but you're happy to meander around for a little bit to familiarize yourself with the layout. You'll let them fight over the rooms and take whatever is left. After all, in a place of this size, even the smallest room is bound to be plentiful.

As you go through the halls admiring the artwork on the wall you spot Spencer doing the same, staring at a particular painting on the wall. You take just a second to appreciate the way he looks, standing there and analyzing art. You've always had an appreciation for Spencer, and not just for his good looks, but also his intelligence and his company.

Since your first day at the FBI you've felt drawn to him, he made you feel important, and heard, when others dismissed you. In fact, he's the reason you're on the BAU team in the first place. He was the only one to recognize your abilities and talents. You try not to hold a grudge about the fact the rest of the team was ready to let you transfer out after your internship. But instead of standing there and gawking at him like some braindead fool, you walk up to him, setting your bag on the floor beside your feet.

You look at the painting that's caught his attention and try to see what he does, try to think about how he interprets it. His mind is an amazing, complex thing, and you hope that one day you'll be able to understand just a small portion of it. It's a painting of the Great Rocky National Park, you can tell from the mountain formation and the river running through it. The painting is almost an identical match, as if it's actually a picture rather than painting. However, there's one small spot on the painting that looks like it's been painted over and over, it sticks out to you.

"What do you think happened there?" You point out the flaw and look up to Spencer, whose eyebrows are drawn closely together as he leans in and looks at the spot. After a few moments of quiet reflection, he stands back to his full height.

"I'm not sure. It looks like maybe the painter had difficulties finding the right shade." He says, still staring at the spot. Your eyes linger on his face before tearing them away before he catches on.

"You're probably right. I'm going to go find what room they left me." You say, grabbing your bag from beside you. Spencer bends over to pick up his as well,

"I should probably do the same." A small smile adorns his face, and the two of you begin walking through the cabin to find the empty rooms the team left you. According to the venue's website there should be one room for each agent, and you're thankful for that. You had never been a fan of sharing room with your coworkers, something about it just feels wrong, but when there's no way to avoid it you endure without much fuss.

The two of you check every room on the first floor only to find that they had all been claimed, meaning you two had to climb the stairs for rooms on the second level. Of course the rest of them would all claim the first floor rooms first, nobody likes to bother with stairs first thing in the morning.

You and Spencer find the empty rooms, side by side with direct access to the porch. You suppose there are worse rooms to have. Eager to step out onto the porch, you toss your bag on the bed and open the sliding door. Colorado's crisp air envelopes you as you step out and you take a deep breath. The air out here feels so clean and refreshing. Great Rocky National Park is directly in front of the porch, giving you an eagle's eye view of a portion of it as you lean onto the banister. Might as well enjoy a little bit of peace before you start working the case.

-----

"Three women were found in the same spot days apart from each other. All bludgeoned and stabbed through the heart." The Park Ranger speaks, indicating to the crime scene that's been barricaded with yellow tape. The Ranger stares at the scene, which is now an inconspicuous patch of dirt and grass, as if there weren't several dead women resting here. The scene is right beside a big body of crystal blue water.

You hang back from the rest of the team, opting to look at the surroundings instead of the immediate scene. The team knows now that finding the tiny details is your forte, and they leave you to your own devices in the beginning of investigations. The cold breeze causes you to hold your too-thin jacket closer to your body as you begin your observations.

"They were all found in the same spot?" Hotch asks the Ranger, who confirms that all of the victims were found in the exact same spot. As you examine the landscape, your eyes narrow in an attempt to find even the subtlest detail. Before too long, you see something out of place in the lush grass and walk over to it while pulling on a pair of gloves.

There's a pamphlet laying in the grass and upon further examination you see that it's been marked up like someone gave the traveler directions. Directions right to this spot. The killer lured at least one victim here. This trail is far off the beaten path, it's not marked by the Rangers. Only someone familiar with the area would know about it.

"Look at this." You call out to your team, and soon a few of them join your side to examine what you found. Spencer and Morgan look over your shoulder at the pamphlet, which is in better condition than you would've thought considering it was laying in grass beside a body of water.

"They're familiar with the area, they had this planned." Spencer speaks up and you nod your head, agreeing with him. Morgan holds out an evidence bag once he's done looking at it and you slip it inside, protecting it from any further damage. Morgan walks off with the pamphlet, leaving you and Spencer together, both deep in thought.

"What have you come up with so far?" You ask softly, curious to see if his theories line up with yours. Spencer shifts his weight and sighs, looking back to the crime scene.

"The killer is organized. They lured at least one victim right to this spot, and I'm assuming they did the same with the others. And they had to have brought the weapons with them. While there are branches to bludgeon people with, there's no evidence of anything nearby being cut down recently. If they used a natural object, it's likely they would've tried to blend it back in with nature." He explains and you nod your head along with what he's saying as you observe the scene and the scenery surrounding you.

"Unless they tossed the weapon into the water. They could have easily used a rock to bludgeon the victims." You counter his explanation. Spencer and you always did this with one another when forming theories. Not as to dissuade, or prove the other wrong, but to make your theories and explanations stronger. It's one of the qualities you most like about him. His eyes drift to the water.

"They could have. But they had to have brought the knife, there's no natural substitute that would leave that precise of a wound." He says, and you relent, agreeing with him.

"I want to question the Rangers, get their work schedules, and see the call logs. I also want to know where the victims were staying and if there's any camera footage of them in the welcome center." You shiver with a gust of wind and hold your arms tighter around your body as you walk off to gather the information you want.

Spencer decides to join you in going to the welcome center, claiming that in a huge national forest that none of us should be traveling alone. He has a good point, but you wouldn't have objected to his company either way. The Ranger from the scene escorts you two to the welcome center in his cruiser, the warm air letting your fingers regain their feeling.

"Who found the bodies?" You ask as you hold your hands in front of the vent emitting warm air. The Ranger looks at you through the rearview mirror before focusing on the road again.

"I found one and Birch found the others during his patrols." He answers and you mentally make a note to find Birch.

"Is that area regularly patrolled?" You push further for more information and the Ranger shakes his head.

"No, it wasn't, until I found the first girl. She had to have been out there for at least three days. After that I sent Birch out to keep an eye on the area. He found victim two a couple days after the first, and found the third a single day after the second." He says and you look to Spencer, both noting the decrease in time between kills. A sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that if you don't find the killer soon, then you may be finding a fourth victim any day now.

Once you reach the welcome center, the Rangers are more than happy to provide you with the security camera footage, work schedules, call logs, and anything else you may need. In fact, it's Ranger Birch that hands over the information himself. He's a young man, maybe mid twenties, with meticulously groomed hair and pressed uniform pants.

"Thank you." You tell him with a warm smile, taking the footage and other information off the counter and into your hands. He nods back with a wide, white-toothed smile and tells you and Spencer to come back if you need anything else. The moment you step out of the welcome center you give Spencer a pointed look with a raised eyebrow.

"What do you think?" He asks you before you can ask him. You lick your lips and glance back into the welcome center, Ranger Birch still looking at you. Your eyes find Spencer's and you motion for him to follow you.

"I think he takes pride in both his appearance and work, and he knows the park well." Hotch pulls up in a black SUV to pick you and Spencer up to return you to the cabin, where the entire team will discuss what's been found so far.

-----

The trip up to the cabin only takes about ten minutes. Your mind works to put pieces of the puzzle together the entire trip back, but there's just not enough known information yet, and it bothers you. You like to have answers quickly because the faster you get answers, the less people will die. Your leg bounces up and down the entire way back, eager to begin deciphering the evidence.

The SUV comes to a stop outside the cabin and before Hotch can turn the car off, you're out and making your way to the entrance. A man dressed in a casual flannel shirt hunched over the flowerbeds stops you in your tracks before you get to the front door. He wipes the dirt from his landscaping gloves onto his worn overalls as he greets you.

"Good afternoon ma'am, I hope you enjoy your stay here. I'm James, I do the landscaping work around here and a few other cabins nearby." He offers you a warm smile, which you try your best to return, but your anticipation is causing you to become short.

"Nice meeting you." You go to walk into the cabin, but James' voice stops you once more. Spencer and Hotch approach, engaged in a conversation likely pertaining to what happened at the welcome center.

"Wait, ma'am. I never caught your name." James smile is reminiscent of an old friend, and he looks at you expectedly. Against your best wishes, you answer him, not wanting to be unnecessarily rude to your host.

"We'll, it's been a pleasure to meet you. Maybe I'll catch you around before you head out. Are you here for work?" He continues his conversation as Spencer and Hotch walk into the cabin undeterred by the landscaper. Maybe if you had just slowed down one of them would've been caught instead. James' eyes linger on the items in your hands.

"Yeah, the whole team is here for work." You answer, shuffling some items around in your grasp. James nods his head and tears his gaze away from the items, the warm smile returning to his face.

"Must be some important work if a whole team is here. By the looks of you all I'd say you're some sort of police." He guesses, eyeing the firearm that's strapped to your thigh. Your eyes narrow at the man, and you nod.

"Yeah, something like that. I really have to get going, they're probably waiting for me in there. Have a nice night, James." You find your exit route out of the conversation with the friendly mannered landscaper. As you step through the door you hear his voice call out to you once more.

"If there's anything I can do to help, number's in the guestbook." The door closes, and the conversation finally ends.

Taking a cleansing breath, you join the rest of the team who are all gathered around the rectangular dining table, which has been designated as the investigation headquarters. On the table are a slew of files, photos, and papers. You add the information gathered from the welcome center to that collection and Hotch starts the conversation.

Hotch reviews the known information and circulates photos of the victims. They're all beautiful young women, and according to Garcia, were staying at nearby resorts and cabins for vacation. The photos get passed to you and you look at them intently, committing to memory every detail you can absorb before you pass them along. It's obvious that these victims were chosen because of their physical appearance, they all share the same basic features such as hair color, eye color, and stature. And eerily, you seem to match the profile as well. 

"The physical appearance of the victim is important to the unsub. Having three victims with similar features is no mistake, nor is it a coincidence." You add to the conversation, seeing your team members look from you to the photos on the table. 

"Maybe the victims represent someone who scorned the unsub? Extracting revenge through them." Spencer suggests, and it's a good theory. You chew on the skin of your bottom lip as your mind races with theories and trying to piece the information together like a puzzle. 

After the general briefing, Hotch assigns Morgan and Prentiss to interview the Park Rangers to establish alibis, JJ and Garcia to continue conducting their online investigation, and Spencer and yourself to go over the welcome center footage. Hotch was going to speak to the people running the cabins the victims were staying at to see if there are any leads there. 

You and Spencer are on the second hour of footage when your eyes start becoming heavy. Reaching for the remote, you pause the footage and stretch, needing to take a break. 

"You want some coffee?" You ask him, needing something to keep yourself awake. He nods his head, 

"Yes, please." You stand from your seat and go to the kitchen to prepare the two of you some coffee. You're sure to put an ungodly amount of sugar in Spencer's, knowing that if you don't you'll hear him complain about it. And most times you enjoy the sound of his voice, but you don't know if you can stand hours of CCTV footage and him complaining about a lack of sugar right now.

You return to the table and place his mug in front of him, steam rising from it. You sip your own and resume your position at the table and reach for the remote. Spencer reaches for it at the same time, your hands brushing one another's. His hand is warm and soft, perfect for the chilly autumn air. 

"Sorry." You say, pulling your hand away and forcing any other thought than the footage from your mind, knowing that there's already a faint pink adorning your cheeks. No matter how long you've worked with him, even just simple touches is enough to send you spiraling if you let it. You try not to delve into what that might mean; you profile people for a living, the last thing you want to do is profile yourself. Without a word, Spencer just smiles back politely and presses play. 

The footage rolls and you two identify the victims who all showed up unaccompanied, which you find odd considering they were on vacation with their families. Your hand jots down quick notes in sloppy handwriting as you critically examine what you do, and don't, see in the footage. Spencer and you replay the footage showing the victims easily five times each, both silently taking notes, knowing you're going to compare soon. After watching the third victim's footage for the last time, you look over to Spencer, who's face is illuminated by the golden glow of the setting sun. 

"Do you want to go first?" He asks and you nod, trying not to stare at how the sunlight reflects the amber color in his warm prismatic eyes. You look down to your notes and try to get your thoughts straight before speaking. 

"I noted that all three victims walked into the welcome center with a pamphlet already in hand. None of them took the ones provided by the park. They all showed up alone. I can only assume that the unsub gave them the pamphlets with instructions on how to find the scene. Only, I'm willing to bet it was framed as a good-intentioned suggestion. There's no way those women would have gone if they didn't trust the unsub to some degree." Your eyes glance from your horribly written notes up to Spencer, who's leaning on the table, clinging to every word you say. He hums in consideration before he speaks up.

"I would agree. And if the victims were all staying at tourist destinations, those pamphlets were likely already there. So now the question is whether or not the unsub talked to them at their cabins or before they walked into the welcome center." He says, and a lightbulb goes off in your mind. 

"Wouldn't it make more sense for the unsub to speak to them at their cabins? I mean, if the unsub caught them in the parking lot there's a chance they might have their families with them. But if the unsub spoke to them at their cabins, the women might be persuaded to leave their families behind for some reason." You say, going with the logical deductions that pop into your mind. Spencer mulls over your words, his eyes narrowing, staring back at you in deep thought. 

"You're right. The unsub likely works for the resorts. It would give them access to the victims and it wouldn't be weird for them to give suggestions to guests." He confirms what you thought and you look back to the screen, seeing the third victim frozen in time. 

"We should let the team know." You say and Spencer nods. The two of you finish off your coffee and wait for the rest of the team to arrive. You're confident that the two of you have a solid lead on this case. You only hope you can find the unsub before there's a fourth victim.

-----

The sun sets on the scenic landscape and you lean against the banister of the wraparound porch. The rest of the team isn't back yet, and the last thing you want to do is stay inside when it's so beautiful out here. The snowcapped mountain in the distance gleams brilliantly, and it's almost blinding, but you can't look away. Sounds of water rushing and birds chirping fill the air and if you let your mind relax enough it's almost like you're not here to solve murders. 

Your head rests atop of your arms on the railing and you breathe in the cool air. The breeze gently blows your hair around, sending a shiver up your spine. You had severely underestimated how cold it would be here, and as a result, you failed to pack adequately because you were basing your packing off of Virginia fall time temperatures, which are noticeably warmer. 

The sliding door opens and you turn to see Spencer walking out of his room. He joins your side and leans forward on the railing, looking out at the breathtaking view. His curly brown hair gets blown into his face, and you have to stop yourself from reaching out and tucking it behind his ear. You're also enjoying the breathtaking view. 

He looks at peace, which is not something you usually see in him. His mind works overtime almost twenty four hours a day, especially on cases. It has to be torturous sometimes, to never get a reprieve from your own thoughts; and that's something you know all too well. There are some nights where you can't sleep because gruesome memories from the job haunt you. 

Noticing that you're staring at him, you turn your gaze back to the colorful trees. The two of you enjoy a moment of tranquility together, a rare moment in the fast-paced career you pursued. A bird flies by, and you can only imagine what that freedom feels like. Most times you feel like your job keeps you cemented in one place, always dealing with death and the most heinous monsters that reside in this world. You often forget just how beautiful and free life can be. 

A particularly crisp breeze comes through and you visibly shiver, which Spencer notices. Without a word, he goes into his room and comes back moments later with the throw blanket that was folded at the bottom of the bed. It's burnt orange in color and is made of faux fur, warm and soothing. Spencer drapes it over your shoulders and you hold onto the ends, keeping it secure around you. If you could stay in this moment forever, you would. 

Spencer stands so closely beside you that you feel his warmth coming through the blanket, and without much thought, or care, you lean into him just slightly. He makes no effort to move, and the two of you stay like that for what seems like an eternity. His warmth and his smell are so comforting and makes you feel safe. Deep down in your heart you know he makes you feel at home.

The two of you enjoy each other's company in a peaceful silence. There's never been the need to fill the silence with him, like there is the others. While you two are quite talkative in the team dynamic, when you find yourselves alone it's often relaxed with no expectations. You two talk when you want, or is needed, but when there's nothing to say you're more than happy to just be around him. And you hope he feels the same about you, and you think he does, but you're never brave enough to ask for fear of ruining whatever relationship it is that you two share.

Sighing, you cuddle yourself further into the blanket as the sun dips lower and lower, the golden hue turning orange. Spencer moves beside you, and you see his fingers twitch, like he was going to reach out for something but doesn't. Your head turns to look at him above you, and his head lowers, so that your eyes meet one another. 

You had always known his eyes were beautiful, but up this close you can truly admire the depth of them. The golden hues remind you of the sunsets, the green in them is like the rich moss that adorns the sides of the rocks; or like the pine needles on the tall trees, and the brown is reminiscent of swirling espresso. Taken aback from his closeness and the heat creeping up your spine, your lips fall open and his eyes glance between them and your eyes. He's so close to you, your bodies practically pressed against one another. You feel yourself being drawn to him, like he has his own magnetic pull. 

But whatever was about to happen is cut short by the rest of the team arriving back to the cabin. You and Spencer seem to come back to reality and step away from one another. Flustered, you unwrap the blanket from your shoulders and hand it back to him, already missing the warmth.

"Thank you." Your voice is soft and tender, and his hand brushes your own as he grabs the blanket from you. 

"Of course." He smiles softly back, and the two of you part ways to join the rest of your team downstairs to catch up on the latest information. But you can barely pay attention to what is being said, for your mind is drowning with flashes of Spencer out on the porch. 

-----

The next morning you wake up as the sun shines in through the windows, illuminating the room beautifully and warmly. Hotch had given everyone the night to mull over the information and said that the investigation will pick right back up in the morning. After you get dressed and ensure your service weapon is properly attached to the harness around your thigh, you make your way down the stairs for a morning cup of coffee. Morgan, Prentiss, and Hotch are already sat at the table, picking at some toast for breakfast as they get the sleep rid from their systems. 

You make a cup for yourself and Spencer, knowing he will be up any moment now. As per usual, too much sugar gets put into his and then you pour your own. The warm drink calms your nerves and you close your eyes, trying to get your mind prepared for whatever the day may bring. You know there may very well be a fourth victim found soon and you need to be on the top of your game to find the unsub.

"Good morning." A raspy voice makes your eyes open, and you see Spencer walking into the kitchen, dressed in a button up and tie. It's quite casual for him, but you like it, it looks nice on him. 

"Good morning, made yours right here." You say and nod over to the mug on the counter. He looks from you to the mug with a smile on his face.

"Thanks." He says, and the two of you stay in the kitchen, sipping on your coffee and waiting for Hotch to give everyone orders. 

"Feeling good about today?" It's something you always ask when an investigation seems to be coming to a close. You think it sets a tone, an expectation that the team will succeed. Spencer sips his drink and nods, 

"I feel good about today." He confirms, flashing his bright white smile. 

Last night, after the team had arrived, Hotch had shown everyone the list of employees from the neighboring resorts and cabins and today the team will be interviewing those employees. You're convinced the unsub has to be on that list and you intend to find out who it is. The questions have already been sorted in your mind, though you're able to adapt to anyone's personality and are prepared to get answers. 

"Same teams as yesterday, we're going to divide and conquer." Hotch says, handing each team a list of names. You look down at the list he handed you and see that there are a total of fifteen employees for the small resort that you and Spencer are covering. It catches your attention that seven of the fifteen are women, and you mentally place them lower on your suspect list. This doesn't seem like a crime women usually commit, no, this seems like the work of a man as evidenced by the brute force used. 

Morgan and Prentiss take off in one car, Hotch takes another, leaving you and Spencer with your own SUV. The two of you gather your needed materials, such as photos and notepads, before you head out. Spencer grabs the keys and tells you that he's going to warm up the car as you finish organizing your things, and you're grateful for that. Sitting in a cold car doesn't really appeal to you right now. 

Once you're content with the items you've chosen to bring along you head out of the cabin. The bright light almost blinds you, and you squint in order to see. From the corner of your eye you see something move, and when you turn to look you see it's the landscaper from the other day, already flagging you down. Resisting the strong urge to just ignore him, you wait for him to reach you on the porch steps. He looks like he's already been hard at work today, he's covered in dirt and sweat. 

"Well good mornin'. Got anything interesting going on today?" He asks, shielding his eyes from the light with his gloved hand. You shift your weight and look to the running SUV, already planning your escape route out of this conversation. 

"Uh, yeah, you could say it'll be an interesting day." You reply as politely as you can. James smiles widely at your response. 

"What sort of thing you have planned?" He asks and you sigh, not wanting to be part of this conversation any longer. 

"I'm not at liberty to say, but I've gotta go, my partner is waiting for me." You excuse yourself from the conversation before he can get another word in. From behind you, you hear him say. 

"Well alright then, I'll be around if you need anything." As you slide into the driver's side of the car and hand your bag to Spencer, you see the man heading back to the tool shed. 

"That's twice now that he's singled me out." You say, keeping your eye on him for a moment longer, watching his moves. The fact that you match the victim profile is not lost on you, and you think it might be making you just slightly paranoid.

"I noticed that too. Could be that you were the first one there the last time, and the last one out this time, but it's definitely something to keep note of." Spencer says as you drive off to the tiny resort the two of you had been assigned. You know he might be right, but the man went out of his way to flag you down this morning and completely ignored everyone else. An uneasy feeling in your stomach tells you that the landscaper should be looked into more thoroughly. 

When you and Spencer reach the resort you waste no time in beginning your investigations. The two of you are laser focused on the task at hand, and agree to split the list equally. Spencer volunteered himself to question the extra person. Luckily, the front desk attendant was more than helpful and secured two rooms for the interviews to be conducted. 

The first four interviews go by without incident, all front desk attendants and kitchen workers who have no indication of manipulative traits and answer your questions openly. You've done this enough times to spot exactly what you're looking for, you know what gets under the skin of unsubs, especially the organized ones who think they have it all figured out. 

A couple other interviewees give you good information about the victim who stayed here. They tell you how they remember seeing her with her family in the hall, and how nothing seemed out of the ordinary in the room when it was cleaned. Hotch had questioned the families last night, and cleared them from the suspects list. 

By the time you reach the end of your list, you know you can safely cross every one of them off. None of them responded to the misinformation you sprinkled in the questions, things the unsub would've been known to be untrue. And none of them had any sort of reaction to you insulting the intelligence of the unsub, something that would have surely set them off in some way. But to your dismay, none of them had any clue of who could be capable of this kind of malice. Typically, there's at least one person who's able to spot something weird about someone, but not this time. 

You group back up with Spencer, the two of you comparing notes in the room he used for his questioning. He had the same results as you and you both were hoping someone else on the team was more successful. 

"We got all of them except for James Hilton. The others said he bounces around to each place and some days he's not even here." Spencer says, pointing out the only uncrossed name from the list. 

"James Hilton. That's the landscaper." You say, barely able to recall his name from yesterday. The uneasy feeling in your stomach grows. 

-----

In the afternoon, the team reconvenes in the cabin around the table to compare findings. Every other agent was able to interview everyone but James Hilton. Granted, his job requires him to go from location to location, but it seems like he's been hanging out around this cabin often. However, he was nowhere to be found when everyone came back. But maybe he went to another location to work on their flowerbeds. 

"We'll need to get his statement today. Anyone up to track him down?" Usually you volunteer to go after someone like this, but something is telling you not to, and you listen to your instincts. Thankfully Morgan offers to track him down, and Prentiss joins him once more. You pick at a piece of paper on the table as your mind works, mulling over what you know about the case and the overly-friendly landscaper. 

Before Morgan and Prentiss leave, Spencer informs the team about the conversations that James has dragged you into. You tell them exactly what happened, and they all agree that it seems suspicious. Hotch goes off to make some calls to JJ and Garcia, leaving you and Spencer at the table. 

"Hey, are you okay?" Spencer asks, leaning forward on the table. His voice snaps you out of your trance and you cease to fiddle with the paper. 

"Me? Yeah I'm fine, why?" You ask, not sure why he's concerned. He looks conflicted, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he answers. 

"Well, it's just that you fit the victim profile and the conversations with the landscaper seem to be suspicious. And you keep playing with the paper which is an indication of anxiety." He says, trying his best to not profile you in front of your face. 

"Spencer, I'm okay, promise. I was just thinking." You tell him, and it's the truth. While James makes you feel uneasy, you're confident that nothing will happen to you. Spencer nods and you stand from the table, wanting to inspect the cabin with finer detail and stretch your legs. 

After going from room to room looking for the tiniest thing that might be relevant to the case, you find yourself staring at the same photo that caught Spencer's eye when you all first arrived. There's something about it, something about the discolored spot, that you just can't let go of. It's bothering you for some reason. Frustrated, you take it off the wall and bring it to where Spencer is in the main living area, nose in a book. He looks up from the page when he hears you coming, his eyebrows scrunching closely together. 

"What are you doing?" He asks, putting the book on a side table. You place the painting on the large coffee table and put your hands on your hips. 

"There's something about this that's driving me insane." You say, eyes drifting from Spencer's face to the painting. It takes Spencer all of ten seconds to analyze the painting again. 

"It's the same place the bodies were found." He says and your eyes widen, taking in the scene again and realizing he's right. 

"Wait. If this is the same place the bodies were found, then that, is the exact spot they were in." You say, pointing to the discolored spot. The discoloration is where the grass meets the water, the mountain in the background. Your eyes drift to the bottom corner of the painting where you see a cursive 'J' painted in white. 

"Do you think the killer is the one who painted this?" Spencer asks you, and you nod. 

"I'm sure of it. There's a J painted in the corner. It has to be Hilton. Can you call Garcia?" You ask, mind feeling like it's running a marathon. Spencer doesn't hesitate to get Garcia on the phone. 

"Hello my beautiful boy genius, what can I do for you today?" Penelope's voice sounds throughout the room and you smirk at her entertaining phone greeting. 

"Hello my beautiful computer genius, can you do me a favor?" You speak first and you can hear her laugh through the phone. 

"Oh my darling anything for you." Her voice is melodic and you shake your head at her antics. You love Garcia, she's one of your closest friends inside and outside of work. 

"Can you find anything on a James Hilton from the Boulder, Colorado area?" You ask her, knowing your answer is about to be served on a silver platter in just a few moments. Garcia's quick typing echoes through the phone. 

"James Hilton, born and raised in Boulder. Has been working as a property manager for the last ten years at the property you all are staying at. Has one traffic record from the nineties, but other than that he's clean." She says, but you were hoping for something more incriminating. 

"Anything about a wife, or a girlfriend? Maybe even a sister or mother?" You ask her, staring down a the painting. 

"It looks like he was in a long term relationship with Valerie Wilson, also of Boulder. But according to her Facebook page, they are over with." She says, Spencer and you looking at each other, knowing you may have just found a potential piece of the puzzle. 

"Perfect. Can you tell me what she looks like and how to contact her?" You ask and write down the details Garcia recites. After you get the needed information, Spencer hangs up and calls Hotch to inform him of what the two of you just found out. Hotch tells us that he's on his way back to the cabin after he's done with the last interview. 

The painting lays in front of you two, and you take a seat on the arm of the chair Spencer is sitting in, your leg brushing up against his and your arm resting behind his head to keep yourself stable. Your eyes are glued to the discoloration, and you know there's just something about it that's more than just not being able to find the right shade. 

"Is there a way to see if something has been painted over?" You ask Spencer rather than Googling it, knowing he can probably get you an answer faster. He clears his throat and nods his head.

"A few years ago it was found that Vincent Van Gogh painted over several of his works due to the cost of canvas. Experts used x-ray to see through the layers, revealing the original painting." His answer is exactly what you were looking for.

"We have to get this thing x-rayed. And someone needs to contact Valerie and ask her about her relationship with James. His tool shed should be examined as well" You jump off the chair's arm, ready to leave immediately, but having to wait for Hotch before you can proceed with anything else. 

-----

Hours later, your leg is bouncing up and down, eagerly awaiting the results of the x-ray. The hospital staff had never encountered something quite like this, but you were thankful that they were cooperative. Spencer had come along with you while Hotch stayed back to get in contact with Valerie. You check your phone every ten seconds to see if you have a new message for him, but your screen is blank.

Thankfully, a few minutes later an x-ray technician comes out and beckons you to a dark room where she clips the x-ray images onto a lightboard. While the images aren't in color, you can still see exactly what you need to. The images show that where the discoloration is, there used to be a woman standing and a man on one knee. A gasp leaves your mouth, the pieces finally fitting together in your mind. Without a doubt, James is the unsub. 

Spencer and you race back to the cabin and spill the findings to the rest of the team. Hotch informs you that Valerie had confirmed that James recently proposed, but she turned him down. All of the victims match her appearance. He must have been killing to fulfill some sort of revenge he felt was necessary. 

The team calls each of the resorts that James is employed at only to find that he's not at any of them. While the others scramble to try and find a way to find him, your eyes land on the guestbook. 

"Guys. I can call him. He told me his number is in the guestbook and we know I fit the profile. He won't be able to help himself." You say, and the others don't have any good reason as to why you shouldn't do it. Your hands shake from the adrenaline as you dial the numbers and the phone rings, your heartbeat resounding in your ears. You're so close to catching this depraved man. 

"Hello?" He answers finally. You let go of a breath you weren't aware you were holding and speak up.

"Hi James, you told me to call you if I needed help with anything. And, um, I think I might have broken one of the outside lights." You quickly come up with a lie, hoping to lure him out here for the arrest. You hear him moving around on the other end and the start of an engine. 

"Of course, I'll be there in just a moment, honey." He says and you hang up the phone, trying not to gag from his pet name. 

It takes James all of fifteen minutes to reach the cabin. When he pulls up, the entire team is waiting for him, but you were the one with cuffs in your hands. As soon as his feet hit the ground, Hotch and Morgan were out the door ordering him to the ground. With smug satisfaction, you step over the man and secure his hands in cuffs behind his back. 

As the local police show up to take him away, he's spitting every expletive in the book at you. Rage and hatred show themselves very clearly on his face, and you see who he really is. You smile sickly sweet at him as he's shoved into the back of the cop car. Another monster off the street, unable to do harm to another woman. It's like a weight gets lifted from your shoulders. 

-----

After the excitement of the arrest, you come down off your adrenaline rush. The rest of the team are packing, getting ready to leave in the morning, but you can't find it within yourself to do it. You're too struck by the beauty in front of you to worry about going back home. You just don't want to part with this yet. So you find yourself out on the wraparound porch once more, the sun retreating far too quickly behind the horizon for your liking. 

Despite the waning sun, the landscape looks brighter, more vibrant now that you know that the killer is in custody. Usually, the team gets only a few hours of celebration before you're saddled with paperwork and the next case. A bird flies past again, and you appreciate its freedom again. Its sweet melodies carry in the breeze and soothes your weary soul. 

You love your job, you can't imagine doing anything else, but it does wear on you. Both physically and mentally. Before you had started working with the team, you never could have imagined the kind of evil lurking everywhere, even in a place as gorgeous as this. But now, it's like wherever you look, no matter how beautiful the surroundings, you can always spot something amiss. You feel weighted by the knowledge of what reality actually is. 

The familiar sound of the sliding door catches your attention, and you see Spencer coming towards you, blanket in hand. A smile finds its way onto your face as he closes the distance between you, securing the blanket around your shoulders. Just like yesterday, he stands right beside you, admiring the view. 

"The others are all leaving tonight, they said they want to get a headstart on the papers. But I told them we'd go back in the morning." His voice is raspy, yet soft.

"But what about the plane?" You ask, eyebrows knitting together. He shrugs his shoulders and looks down at you. 

"I told them we'd fly back in the morning, already have the tickets arranged." He says, easing some of your anxiousness, but not satisfying your curiosity.

"Why?" You search for the answer on his face. 

"Because I saw how much you like it here. You deserve one workless night." He says with sincerity and your heart swells at the sentiment. You fully turn towards him, soft blanket draped lightly across your shoulders. You notice that Spencer has traded his button up for a simple pullover. Something so simple has never looked so good before. 

"Thank you, you really didn't have to-" He cuts you off with a smile, 

"I know, but I wanted to." He admits, pink coloring his cheeks. You stare up at him in awe, not quite sure what you did to deserve his thoughtfulness. Not being able to hold back your affections, you reach out and engulf him in a hug. 

"Thank you, Spencer." You reiterate into his chest, feeling his arms wrap around you. After a few fleeting, precious moments, you let go of him. Staring up into his eyes, you reach a hand up and stroke the soft skin of his cheekbone with your thumb. He doesn't flinch from your touch like he does with others, no, he leans into it as if he's savoring the feeling.

His arm that was around your waist come up to cup your cheek, and he gently brings your face towards his, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. You hold him close, a flurry of warmth spreading from your face down to your body. His other hand finds its way around your waist, securing you to his body. 

You break the kiss as your chest begins burning with the need of oxygen, and he rests his forehead against yours. Your hands come up to gently grasp the sides of his face, keeping him in place so that you can admire his beauty. After minutes pass by in silence as you two appreciate each other, Spencer tilts his head up and kisses your forehead. 

He turns you around so that you're facing away from him, and he grabs the blanket from around your shoulders. Seconds later, you feel him standing behind you, wrapping the soft blanket around the both of you. His chest is behind you, and he hands you the edges of the blanket so that his hands might find the soft curve of your waist. Spencer pulls you in to him so that you're leaning back on his chest. 

His presence is enough to make you forget about the horrors of the world, of your job. Right now, it's just you and him, and you've never felt lighter; so unburdened. You're convinced that if he wasn't there, holding onto you with his magnetic pull, that you may just float away in the breeze like a feather. 

Spencer rests his head atop of yours as the two of you relax your minds and bodies, focusing solely on each other and the scene in front of you. Your hands come down to entwine themselves with his with a soft smile on your face. 

A lone tear falls from the corner of your eye as you're overcome with emotion. You cannot recall a single time in your life that you've felt this serene, where everything just feels perfect. Your soul is well nourished and full from Spencer alone. All of those cases you worked together, the stolen glances across the office, the simple acts of kindness and thoughtfulness for each other has culminated to this one precious moment in time; and you've never felt more content. 

The sun eventually sets behind the horizon, the chilly breeze billowing the blanket around you both. Above you in the sky, the stars shine brightly, and you tip your head back to admire them. You can never admire their true beauty in Quantico, their shine is dulled by light pollution, but you can see them clearly here. You can see everything clearly here.

"You know, scientists estimate that there are about two hundred sextillion stars in the sky within the Milky Way." Spencer whispers in your ear as you two bask in their soft white light. You turn around in his hold and smile up at him, 

"And yet none shine as brilliantly or as beautifully as you." You say, and pull him in for another soft, heartfelt kiss. As you pull away, you watch as his eyes flutter open and he smiles endearingly. You've never seen such a beautiful sight, never felt comfort as warm as him, and you know as you lean into his embrace, that you will not bear the weight of this world or this life alone. 

[silcoitus]

Letters from Silco

Letters from Silco Masterlist | AO3

In classic me fashion, I have discovered a new hyperfixation within my Silco brainrot and that is writing letters from Silco by hand. I started it with the letter found in TMSA 27 and now I've written one for all Silco simps to enjoy.

A Reminder

Word count: 250

Tags: Silco x gn!reader, established relationship, short-term long distance, soft Silco, horny Silco, suggestive language but no actual smut

My dearest,

I regret that my work has pulled me from you for this long. You can be certain that the person responsible for the mishap—for extending the need for my presence—will be facing serious consequences. This project becomes a larger headache by the day and I must face it without you by my side. But I take comfort knowing that I will be seeing you soon.

I cannot wait to hold you against me again. To look into your eyes and press my lips to yours. I fear, in our time apart, my tongue has forgotten your taste; I'm in desperate need of a reminder. I crave you, need you as a fire needs oxygen.

I have not known relief since leaving your side and I must apologize for the manner in which I intend to reclaim you as mine upon my return. The fervor with which I will devour every last bit of you. I will reacquaint myself with every curve of your body, every exquisite, supple inch of your flesh. I will leave no trace of you untouched, no part of you unworshipped. 

You will not leave my sight for a full day.

I will make sure of it.

But until then, I must work swiftly to get our efforts back on track. The sooner this error has been corrected, the sooner I can come home to you.

Wait for me, my beloved, and I will make up for every day lost. I promise you.

Yours,

Silco

If you would like a (digital copy) of a Silco letter of your own, check out this post for details on how to request one!

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