#ive been picking away at this all week rip

[fatesdesign-archive]

@riidcr || x

It was more than she could have ever imagined. A life beyond dreams. A kingdom under her rule, and a man whom she loved completely. She took it all in her stride, moulded well to the idea of being a princess, never changing herself to fit in, only growing more into the gentle woman she was. But even the most patient and understanding of people had their limits. She looked over the bridge, watched the water ripple from the ducks gliding across it's surface. The reflection of a moon so solid and dependable in the sky became wrinkled and distorted in the water.

Eugene was beside her, and despite trying to hide behind her smile he was always able to see right through. There was no doubt with Eugene. Their love was strong, it was real, he wasn't going to go anywhere. But that was the issue. Was she restricting him now she had duties and responsibilities here? Eugene had told her many stories about his travels, the different parts of the world he had experienced, and every time he spoke about it his face would light up, his words became animated.

Who was she to keep him locked up in this tower?

His hand held hers, reinforcing the yes from his mouth, she kept her eyes watching his. Eugene wouldn't lie. If he said yes then he was telling the truth. He could be happy here. Rapunzel let her hand move to his jaw once he had kissed the top of it, her head tilting as she took in just how handsome he looked in the moon. Are you sure? Rapunzel thought to herself, almost daring him with her eyes to take the opportunity to be free.

"I don't ever want to be without you" she replied, her fingers moving into his hair as she stepped closer, "But is it fair to ask a wild animal to settle down?" the princess asked quietly. Her fears coming out now, scared he will suddenly feel trapped and run. "I want to go with you if you have the urge to run. Promise to take me with you wherever you go?"

[evie-sturns]

Attitude - Matt Sturniolo

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summary: matt comes to pick you up for a late night drive, but you show up with an attitude.

contains: highway sex/angry sex, swearing, arguing, dom/rough matt, mentions of an eating disorder.

all consensual!!!

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"I'm outside baby, you ready?" matt texts and i sigh. putting my phone in my pocket, and opening the front door.

the cold breeze of the night hits my face and a shiver runs through my body, i approach matts black van, illuminated by the street light shining down on it. matts inside, his face lit by his phone screen and i open the door to the passenger side, and climb inside with a huff.

"hey! you alright?" matt says smiling at me. "yeah im fine?" i say blankly and his smile drops slightly. he starts up the car and drives down the street. the awkward slience grows as matt approaches a red light. he sighs slightly "so what did you get up to today?" matt says breaking the silence and i ignore him. "y/n?" he says again louder.

"what!?" i say back angrily loudly and he rubs his eyes. "look do you want me to take you home, you seem a little bit tired." matt says calmly trying to keep himself contained. "no its fine?" i say quietly and crossing my arms.

he keeps driving along the highway, we haven't said a word to eachother in 15 minutes. suddenly matt pulls over on the side of the road and looks at me, sighing loudly. "y/n look, youve said 3 words this whole time, if your gonna keep acting like this i'm taking you home, i was really fucking excited about spending time with you but you clearly are not feeling the same." he says through gritted teeth as he looks away.

"yeah maybe i dont wanna be here! ive been so fucking tired this week and i quite frankly would rather be asleep. so take me home!" i snap back and matt stays silent, turning the car back on and turning it around. "waste of time." i hear matt mutter under his breath and breathe in shakily, dont cry dont cry. "just pull over for fucks sake!" i say on the verge of tears. "yeah now you want to talk to me?" matt growls as he slams the breaks on and pulls over. "you shouldntve snaped at me matt." i say quietly. "i snapped at you?" matt scoffs "ive been nice this whole time, and youve been huffing in the passenger seat the whole. fucking. time." matt says in disbelief.

"your such a fucking asshole, just accept im fucking tired for once, oh wait nevermind, you cant relate because your life is literally perfect." matts breath hitches in his throat "get in the back." he says loudly. i stay perfectly still. "now." matt says again and i stay still. he gets out of the car onto the highway and walks around the car to my door and opens it quickly, picking me up aggressively.

he places me on the grass next to the car, nobody on the highway can see us since are covered by the van.

my stomach flips as i feel a familiar heat grow between my legs. he kneels down behind me and reaches a hand on my lower back, forcing me to arch.

he rips my shorts down and scoffs "no panties and fucking soaked, pathetic." he says amused as he tugs my shirt over my head. "honestly pathetic." he says again before slapping my pussy causing me to yelp.

he yanks down his sweatpants as i'm on display for him on all fours, my back is arched patiently waiting. "please" i whine and he instantly slaps my ass "dont talk." he replies instantly before lining himself up with my leaking hole. he slams his whole cock into me causing me to scream and try to reach behind me and push him, instead he grabs both my wrists and hold them behind my back.

his thrusts instantly start, giving me no time to adjust to his 7 inches. he slams into me, pulling both of my wrists, causing me to arch my back even more, i scream and he quickens his pace "shut the fuck up." he growls as he goes faster. without warning i clench around his cock and orgasm, causing him to slip out and he instantly realeses his grip on my wrists, causing me to fall face first into the grass, humiliating me. i roll over onto my back and he slams himself back into me before i even have time to adjust my position.

tears are pouring out of my eye from how sensitive i am. "fuckk.." he growls as he twitches inside of me and instantly cums inside of me, thrusting a few more times, pushing it deep inside of me. before pulling out and collapsing on the grass beside me.

we lay in the cold night air for 10 minutes before he sits up, breaking the silence. "are you okay.. im sorry." he says shakily before standing up and picking me up. "i-..uh.." i stammer, still processing what just happened. he opens the door to the backseat and places me down, he quickly puts on his jeans and joins me in the backseat. "i got you my shirt, i assumed you wouldn't want to get changed into all your clothes so i have these aswell.." he pulls some panties out of his pocket "from uh.. last time." his cheeks go red and i laugh slightly "thank you baby." i say sliding on my panties and his t-shirt. he man spreads in the backseat, pulling me onto his lap.

"do you wanna talk about it.. ya know.. the argument" he says and i nod "well um i just.." i pause then continue "first of all im really sorry, i know you're tired too, and you honestly have a much harder life than me, ive just had a bad week, i dont wanna get into it but my uh, my eating got alot worse, ive found it hard to."

(30 minutes later)

after crying into matts chest for several minutes he took me to his home and fed me everything in his pantry, then cuddled with me in bed.

"are you feeling better? um, im sorry i went so rough earlier." matt says embarrassed, covering his face with his hands.

"aside from me not being able to walk up your stairs now, im fine."

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ik i didnt color code the speech but i honestly couldnt be bothered whatsoever!!!!!

anyways hope yall liked, also request shit for me to write in my inbox

[sssssecret]

While I'm doing the omo dungeon, I want to talk about a fantasy I've been having recently.

My dom is a bartender in a pretty popular bar, and I would be the sub and the bar urinal. I would have a funnel in my mouth and a catheter in my bladder with a funnel. A patron would come in and piss in funnel leading to my bladder. I would also have people pissing in my ass and pussy, with plugs in both so it can't get out. My dom would come in and I'd beg to go to the bathroom and empty myself. I would be begging so hard, I wouldn't even realize I was saying "please let me flush, your toilet is so full". He would tut and smack my bladder, saying that I need to be better at holding.

He would stick a ridged metal sound in my urethra and say if I push it all the way out, I'll be allowed to piss, but I can't stop for longer than 5 seconds, and if I did, he'd push it back in. He made it this way, knowing I would lose. I start pushing it out, piss coming out around it. I'd keep trying, but I'd pause to take a break, and it lasted longer than 5 seconds, making him push it back in. This would continue for awhile before he rips it out and I piss everywhere. He sighs, and says "We have to train your piss hole so that it can leak whenever I want it to, and be wide enough to fit a cock so I don't have to have ugly funnels. Patrons should be able to stick their cocks in your bladder and relieve themselves." My dom would then grab a thick catheter and plug it up inside me.

When I would be forced back out, there would be a small sign on it that says "Hole closed for maintenance" and my mouth open wide with a o-ring. A patron would walk in and sigh, disappointedly at that sign and stick their cock all the way into the back of my throat and piss, so far back I can't even taste it. I would be sitting there for days, my dom opening my pisshole up more and more until it's gaping. There would be a ring on my inner bladder that would make it so that I can't voluntarily piss without him activating an app on his phone. Even then, I would only be able to piss at most, 10 seconds at a time, not even enough to dent the big bulge inside me. I would beg and beg to be flushed, and he'd just sigh and say that my bladder capacity needs to be better, that I shouldn't be begging to be flushed every day. "Toilets should only need to be flushed every other week".

He'd take me away again and into a surgery room. He would press on my bladder and massage it, feeling how full it would be. He'd sigh again, and let me completely empty myself. I'd sigh in relief, but he'd still be talking. "I've custom made a sleeve to go over your bladder that will allow it to expand without bursting. It would also make it numb until your bladder is about to explode." He injects an IV into me and I start falling asleep.

I would wake up again in my usual place in the bar bathroom, but I wouldn't be able to feel my bladder. One by one, people come in and empty themselves into whatever hole they want. Most people would pick the catheter so they could piss directly into my bladder. It would take at least 3 days until I actually felt my bladder, and it would be full. I knew better than to beg though, so I would wait. It wouldn't be until Monday before the bar is opens when I'd be emptied. It would be after the weekend, and so many people would've pissed inside me, so I would be squirming while he opens the little device inside me and the piss runs down my legs and into a bucket, as toilets don't deserve to piss in anything else. I'd be so relieved, but not for long as the bar would be opening soon, and then I'd be filled with piss again.

[gojosatoruhumper]

Kinktober 2024 day 7

Miguel O’hara x reader | Bite marks

Prompt: Miguel goes into heat, losing over his powers and takes it out on you.

Warnings: Biting, blood kink kinda, hair pulling, size difference

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Your best friend Miguel hasn’t been answering his texts for three days now and you were getting worried. Miguel has been your best friend for a long time, always staying close to each other, always helping one another and never keeping secrets away from each other.

This wasn’t like him so you went to check up on him, doing your makeup and picking the best outfit. He has seen you in your worst states, after a night out, after a crying session and worser, but you always wanted to look good when you’re with him. You always had a tiny crush on the man but never really accepting the fact.

You knew he was spider-man but you were just a regular person, nothing special so you still were surprised why would anyone like Miguel want to be friends with you.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

You headed to his apartment, guessing where he most likely should be. You lightly knock on his door, and no answer. With his senses he probably already sensed you while ago, and that just confused you even more.

You pulled your keys out of your pocket, looking for one specific key. You opened the door, being faced with a dark apartment, all windows blacked out with the shades down.

“Migs?” you call out, looking around the dark. You make your way towards his bedroom. “Miguel..?” you say opening his bedroom door slowly.

“Go away Y/n” he said angrily. “Huh?” you get confused. “I said. Go. Away.” he snapped, turning his head away. “Migs? Did I do something?” you ask softly.

“N-no, but I need you to go away” he whispered, trying to soften his voice. “Hey talk to me at least, is everything okay?” you say, getting closer to him. “Y-y/n no, leave me alone” he said raising his voice again, scaring you a little.

It was the spider mating season, and Miguel lost control of himself. He couldn’t be anywhere near you. Your scent made it way to difficult to manage, he wanted to take you right there and then. All the other years he always excused it as work, going for a “work” trip that lasted a simple week and sometimes even a month.

He was sitting on his bed, back facing you. You went up to him, crouching to his face level. “You okay?” he finally looks up at you. “Y/n?” he softly asked “hm?” you raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry” he said, his eyes going down your body.

“For wha-“ you were cut off by him throwing you on the bed, him on top. “I can’t resist I’m sorry” he said, apologetically but lustfully. he put his lips on yours, hands gripping your hips.

“Ive been thinking about you for a week” he said, lips going down your neck, sharp fangs digging into you. “I need you Y/n” he continued biting further, drawing blood at this point.

You moaned, body jerking up closer to his. His bulge already as big as it could get, hitting your core. He ripped off your shirt, starting down with hungry eyes. He started biting once again, inhaling your scent. He started from your neck, to your pantie line. Your hands went to his hair, gripping. It hurt so good.

“Migs” you moaned as his fangs sunk into you once again, drops of blood seeping into the covers beneath you. He took off your skirt with one swift move, face heading closer to your clothed core, throbbing for his touch.

He wasted no time, ripping off your pink panties off with his fangs, lips immediately connecting with your pussy.

His cold lips made you moan, grip on his hair getting tighter. He sucked and licked your core making you uncomfortably moan, like an instinct your hand flew to your mouth, covering it. He immediately grabbed it off “No, i want to hear you” he said, head coming up to your face again, lips connecting once again.

You felt yourself getting picked up, as now you were sitting on top of him, your thighs strangling his. His pants were also suddenly gone, his huge dick right in front of your pussy.

“Why don’t you be a good girl for me?” “huh?” he said as he grabbed your ass with his big hands, pulling you down on him. The size difference made you scream, sounding like music to Miguel’s ears.

He started guiding your hips back and forth, holding you by your ass while you were moaning with your toes curling. His hands slowly went down from your ass up to your breasts, cupping them through your bra. Which of course he ripped off, biting your flesh again.

Your sounds and scent sent him over the moon, your nails gripping his skin. You were close, really close to your climax. “Miguel-“ you tried saying but were washed over with euphoria, kissing Miguel once again.

“Get on all fours Y/n” he demanded, you obliging immediately. He took your face in his hands, quickly shoving his cock down your throat, head falling over his shoulders.

It took only a couple more thrusts before a sticky white substance went all over your face, mixing with the dried blood on the covers.

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The next day Miguel was acting like his normal self, coming over your house for a little like usual. But he didn’t expect you opening the door looking like this - body covered in bruises, bite marks all over, and especially the two fang marks you can see

[bnuuys-writing]

Naga!Jamil x Reader x Roc!Kalim

Omg hiiii, its been a while everyone since i wrote something but here's the first part to something that's been pecking my brain for a while! Sorry its not the update for Vil's Moving Castle, i think im going to scrap it and rewrite it when I have more time.

This is only the FIRST part! I plan on writing a second part whenever i have free time again. Ive been picking away at this for a few weeks now. Anyway, hope you enjoy!

~BnuuyOut!

Well. This isn't how you imagined you'd die. Being cornered by a larger snake-like creature to where there was no escape in sight unless you'd like to jump straight into his fangs…

Let's start this over again, how did you even get in this situation again?

The weather was warm as you entered the freezing cold building. A weird zoo-like research laboratory where you were under contract to work for free because of how gracious your professor was… Ass… You sighed slightly as you tugged on the free lab coat that your professor offered to you that had holes in every pocket, and was that… Dried stains of spaghetti sauce? Ugh. Shaking your head slightly as you made your way to the cafeteria and quietly sat down near the back, waiting to see if this is something you'd have to leave immediately and never return back to, free or not. Minutes passed as others started to file into the room, chitter chatter filling up the room only for a certain crack of a whip to silence the audience within seconds.

“Welcome pups, to your first hybrid meeting of how to be a caretaker!” A man walked out, two dalmatians hounding at each side of him as two others seemed to wheel in cages covered with curtains.

“For those who don't know what you signed up for, which is absolutely idiotic if you didn't read the full internship form, this is a place where we find the extraordinary creatures, house them, and research them before safely releasing them back from whence they came!” The man had a puffy black and white coat, fur lined it seemed from your assumptions as it was just as beautiful as his personality. Rough.

“For those who do not know me! I am your new Professor, your new internship coworker. But more like your boss. If I find out one of you pups messed up something with what is mine, you will be expelled immediately.” Another crack of the whip caused some to flinch at the sound as he continued to ramble on. Yet, your gaze trailed off of him to the cages where you could've sworn you heard something rattling… Like a rattle maybe? Lowering your head just slightly in hopes of catching a small peek, you could only feel yourself tense up in your seat when you saw a glow of slitted eyes shine back at you for just a second. As for what was underneath the curtain, you couldn't figure out just yet. 

Though, snapping your gaze back to your new professor, he continued to speak about how all the students will be assigned to areas that, if they are lucky, will like. If not, they are more than happy to drop out, as for volunteering for a section? It will be all yours, if not with some partners will be either voluntold to join. A large shake at the cage on the left caused everyone to jump in their seats as Professor Crewel seemed to snicker at everyones reactions to the rattling cage. 

“This is our Roc, a creature that hunts over the seas, capturing up sailors from their ships and being able to lift up an elephant in its adult years. Though this one is smaller, only for containment reasons, its adult size was a little harder to capture yet, this one seemed to fit into the snare just like a glove.” Crewel states out as he ripped off the curtain of the cage, a large looking hybrid of a man and a bird, with white dazzling feathers and hair seeming to coat its body. Although it was impressively large, it didn't seem all too aggressive towards everyone, seeming all too delighted in seeing the new faces… Unless you were wrong and it was just looking at who was going to be its next snack. A louder hiss could be heard as Crewel stepped closer to the cage holding what was so called a ‘Roc’ only for the man to seem a big smug at the reaction.

“Now, before anyone can start placing bids on who wants to work with our Roc here, you must come to learn that this Roc comes with another. Although, he is always in a sour mood, they seem to be in some sort of a pact of service to each other. While one leaves peacefully and unbothered, this–” Nothing could stop the gasps of students as the curtain was ripped off of the second cage only for a very, very, pissed looking snake like creature to be staring right at Crewel, its tail flicking with its rattle to try and scare off the Professor. 

“--Creature, comes with it. This is a Naga, and as for its design and pattern, they come together in a pair. So! Who is willing to work with our Roc and Naga?” Professor Crewel stated as the naga creature seemed to turn its body towards the crowd and hiss violently, venom spitting out from its large fangs and dripping down the metal bars of its enclosure, causing it to steam just slightly. 

Silence filled the room. So quiet that you swore, you could almost hear a pin drop within the auditorium. 

“No offers? Our Roc seemed very well trained, and always seems excited to have new fresh blood in the enclosure with him. You’ll just have to try your luck in not getting stuck with our Naga here while you are around the Roc.” Crewel hummed out only for his gaze to land upon you. The only one not diverting your gaze from him. While the other students seemed to look upon the walls with such wonder, some already leaving the auditorium and dropping out from the course, and others seemingly looking sick as they looked upon the angry looking Naga with fear. 

“Ah, you. With the (H/C) and stained labcoat.” Fuck you Crewel. Slowly standing up, dread filling your heart as you heard some others around you, whispering thanks for not being chosen to be their handlers.

“I see great promise with you with these two…” Crewel hummed out with a smirk, as he nodded his head. Oh, how wonderful.

A month had passed since that moment in the auditorium, you had teammates until they all dropped out one by one as they learned more and more about the Roc and Naga together. It seemed from what the researchers had learned about them is that when the Roc lay their eggs and have to go hunting across the seas to pickup sailors for their meals, the nagas were left behind to obey and serve the children until their parents came back. Then came the story on how they captured the Roc and Naga here in the building. The Roc children has been learning how to fly, and the Naga had to follow their every movement so that they wouldn't become the next meal for them. Apparently the Roc in captivity fell from the sky right into the trap, and the Naga has been trying to free him when they were found only for both of them to get sedated and brought back to the research facility.

After observing how handlers dealt with them as well, you began to learn their patterns in making sure that you wont die once you step foot into the enclosure… Like today.

“Alright pup, go ahead on in there, and feed them. Remember, don't look the Naga in his eye, and try to stay over foliage so that the Roc doesn't scoop you up where you stand. Put everything we taught you into action.” And with a crude shove and a loud bang. Professor Crewel really was cruel in some ways, you supposed… Shoving you into the enclosure and shutting the door tight. 

Nevertheless. You were now in the warm enclosure. Alone. Minus two pairs of hungry eyes watching your every movement.

You were careful in your step, making sure to stay under the treeline and foliage in hopes of not getting swooped up by the large bird man. As well avoiding any droppings or anything that you might've mistaken as a snake tail. Buckets in each hand as you traversed the area smoothly, making sure to count your steps just in case you had to make a run for the door and memorizing where you were… Just in case…

You could see their food bowl essentially, a large stone carved into a bowl-like structure with a flowing manmade river for them to get fresh water. The only downfall was that the tree that usually hung over the bowl had fallen due to a storm a few days prior… So your only guardrail was missing. And these guys were hungry… 

“Alright.. You can do this… Show no fear and they'll have no reason to hurt you… Have confidence in your steps…” You whispered to yourself as you took a shaky step forward into the light of the day, no longer under the shady canopy protecting you from the Roc. With another step, you were getting closer and closer to the food bowl without any issues. Just as you neared closer and closer, movement in the corner of your eye was caught as you couldn't help but turn around just slightly… Ever so slowly in hopes of not pissing off whatever was there. 

Slitted eyes bore right into your eyes as you could feel the entrancing pull once again. Slowly, the world around you began to grow darker and darker, all you could see were these entrancing eyes, almost as if beckoning you closer with how they memorized you. Taking slow steps forward, a crack of a tree branch sounded way too close to you as this seemed to snap you out of whatever hypnotism the naga was performing on you. Taking a large intake of breath as you averted your eyes away from the snake man, only to throw it up to see a grinning feathery face a little too close to yours.

A hiss is what snapped you out from your trance from looking at the Roc creature. Shit. Without a second to spare, you ducked back under the foliage as you could feel your heartbeat pounding against your chest as your feet thudded against the ground roughly in hopes of retracing your steps. Yet, in your adrenaline flurry rush, you found yourself in a corner against one of the rocky mountains. Turning around to try and find another escape, you were met face to face with a very angry looking reptilian man. The naga, fuck.

Back pinned against the rocky surface, you could feel the forked tongue flicking out against your cheek as you avoided looking in his eyes at all cost, knowing it would cause certain death. 

Well, either way. This isn't how you'd expect how you'd die.

You could feel the hot breath ever looming closer and closer to you. Yep, even with those buckets of food, you know snakes prefer live meals… Meals that still has their blood pumping with adrenaline as they know they are being hunted down. As you felt death looming close to your neck, inching ever closer before a loud thump could be heard overhead as you were suddenly lifted up by two arms… Two feathery arms.

Blinking your eyes open, looking at the height you are being held over. The Roc, having lifted you up into his arms as he had landed on the mountain. The naga, seeming pissed as the Roc has just taken his meal, began to hiss loudly which… Sllliiggttllyy? Sounded like some type of serpent tongue?

Gripping onto the arms of the Roc, he began to chirp quite loudly into your ear as he squeezed you even tighter in his arms, a bright large smile on his face as his ruby eyes were looking down at the brown eyed naga… So his eyes weren't red, maybe that's when he was trying to hypnotize his prey..? This all seemed too much as you could feel yourself losing precious air by how tight the roc was holding you in his feathered arms. In your losing state of consciousness, you could've sworn you could understand them for just a second.

“Kalim! You know better than to snatch prey from me! That was supposed to be OUR meal!”

“But Jammiillll! They were just so cute, I couldn't just let you kill them!! You should've seen how surprised they were to see me up so close!”

“It doesn't matter, Kalim. Drop them before you get seriously hurt. They don't take too kindly to you holding our feeders.” 

As your mind slowly slipped into a state of consciousness, you could've sworn you heard a yell of Professor Crewel as you're lifted up into the air where sleep took you quickly in your state.

[poppadom0912]

Together (X)

Warnings: Mentions of violence, blood, injuries, abuse, kidnappings, shootings, swearing and scary men.

Summary: Everyone's reunited at last and are never letting go.

A/N: This is the last chapter before the epilogue. I just wanna reiterate how much fun writing this has been and how much i appreciate all the love and support you've shown this series.

It's a bit too late for my liking but I've only now finished writing. This week was so busy for me but I promised and here it is!

Enjoy the last 2.5k words of angst because the epilogue is next!!🙃😊

Previous Chapter / Series Masterlist / Next Chapter

Kelly was bursting through the seams with anxiety. The entire time while responding to the car pile-up, he was riddled with it and the tension he harboured carried through to everyone else.  

It put him at somewhat ease to know at least Sylvie and Violet were with you as well as Intelligence and then eventually everyone at Med. You were going to be surrounded by people you loved and vice versa.  

When the scene started to get cleared up, Boden wasted no time and let Kelly go, urging him to take his buggy and promising everyone would be there once everything was finished.  

The second Kelly stepped into the ED, April was at his side and guiding him towards the ICU where you were being kept for now. On the way up, she carefully explained what she knew and warned him about your appearance.  

Kelly didn't know what to think till he saw your face for himself and God, he wanted to bring hell onto earth.  

Jay heard his soft steps, picking up his head from the back of the chair. Kelly wouldn't say it to his face, but Jay looked horrible, eye bags dark and sullen, hair uncombed and frizzy and injury wise, the bandages told him enough. Somehow, Jay looked worse than what he did yesterday when Kelly last saw him.  

Upon seeing the lieutenant, Jay tiredly smiled at him, easing himself out of his chair and half limped out the room with the IV pole in his left hand. Kelly went forward hastily to help him, telling him to sit back down or help him out the room into another seat but Jay shrugged him off, weakly pushing his efforts away. 

“Go be with my sister you dumbass. April’s here to help me, don’t worry.” 

And with that, he watched his childhood friend help support his supposed soon to be brother-in-law down the white hallways of the intensive care unit. 

Kelly's eyes burned when he first caught sight of you. The last time he saw you was on the video he'd been sent of you screaming as you were being beaten up.  

Gosh, Kelly had felt so helpless and still feels as such.  

Sitting in the chair Jay had previously been inhabiting, Kelly took his time to fully study you, memorising every feature of your face once again in fear of having you ripped out his grasp again.  

You looked so different. Kelly knew your body by the back of his hand and had your every single detail down to the cell engraved into the forefront of his mind. You looked so different but so recognisable, there was no mistaking that this sleeping woman was indeed you.  

Six hours ago, everyone was ready to mourn the oldest and the youngest Halstead. Despite the resilience Intelligence bleed, everyone had been told to prepare for the worst and six hours ago, all hope was lost and giving up seemed so sweet but so sour it still stung now.  

Kelly hesitated, hand hovering mid-air over yours, eyes cast down on your battered body that he could only see little of. Healing scabs and scars alike marred your hands, the sight making him falter, wondering if it was even a good idea to hold your hand. But then the last two days flashed in his eyes and without another thought, he gently placed your hand in his.  

Relief washed over him in waves, flooding his veins. This sensation felt so bittersweet, the sweet poking the tears from his eyes and the bitter nipping at his ankles. To have you back in his vicinity, to have you back home, Kelly never wanted anything so badly before in his life. Despite this, you had been through the ringer, experiencing pain like no other, pain that you wouldn’t wish on your worst enemy.

Actually, the Murray’s deserve worse, maybe the devil himself. Hell and a bit more sounded sufficient enough.

With his hand safely enveloping yours, Kelly felt himself calming down. Even with all the machinery beeping around him, to feel your pulse against his fingers made this dream a reality.

Soft knocking brought him out of his thoughts. Reluctantly pulling his eyes away from you, Kelly found Sylvie standing at the door with two coffees in hand, Violet nowhere in sight.

“Maggie said I can’t give this to Jay, so…” Sylvie said, dragging the word as she held out the paper cup towards him, shrugging her shoulders sheepishly when Kelly smirked in amusement.

“Thanks Brett.” Kelly smiled, gladly taking the caffeine from her hands, and drinking with no hesitation. Truth be told, no one in the firehouse slept much last night, they had too much playing on their minds.

“Crocket said surgery went well.” Sylvie started, standing by your head, fingers caressing your hair as she gently pulled each tangle apart one by one. “I know it doesn’t look like it but she’s going to be fine.”

There was a pregnant pause, Sylvie’s attention diverted and solely on detangling your matted hair before bringing a washcloth that sat on the table to get rid of any residue and dirt stuck on your face. Her trained fingers were put to work, her eyes not once leaving your face as she continued without stopping.

“She’s going to be just fine.”

*****

Kevin was overwhelmed, so was Kim and Hailey but much less so than the aforementioned man. The rest of the team, well they were off busy with the Murray’s and their many, many (somehow attained) henchmen.

The two women were bystanders in it all, coming much later and missing out the most brutal parts. The same could not be said for Kevin and Will.

The two men were following Jay out the warehouse but at a much slower pace. Kevin was supporting Will as best he could, apologising every time the doctor winced and faltered in his steps. Eventually, Jay got so far ahead that he disappeared and very likely was already outside and getting you into the single ambulance waiting.

All of a sudden, the silence that was only interrupted by Will expressing his pain was intruded by gunfire.

They really couldn’t catch a break, could they?

Will apparently remembered the hallways and pointed out a dead-end corridor for them to take cover in and despite his pain riddled brain, he wasn’t wrong.

Without any hesitation, Kevin drew his gun from his holster and shot when necessary and whenever he found someone lurking nearby. Without diverting his attention, he grabbed his walkie and called for backup, relaying both in code and not what was happening.  

Eventually when some time had passed, way too long for Kevin to be comfortable with, Kim and Hailey appeared from around the corner, guns held up in caution before they lowered at the sight of the officer.  

Despite having everything under control, Kevin felt better having his colleagues with him now that Jay was gone. With their help, together they could probably get Will out quicker.  

Now that everything calmed down, Kevin could finally solely put his focus onto said man. Turning his back to the two women, Kevin went to talk to the redhead but found himself speechless at the sight he was met with.  

Lord knows how but up above was a window that some crazy henchman busted his way through and had silently landed on the ground behind him. The man was dressed in all black, blonde hair pocking from the mask he wore armed with both a gun and knife.  

Worst of all, the unnamed and very much unwelcomed man was way too close to Will for Kevin's liking.  

Before Kevin could properly take care of the dude, a shot was fired, and the man fell very ungracefully onto the solid floor, the sound of the impact making all the intelligence personnel internally wince.  

With the nuisance out of the way and no more pathetic distractions, Kevin turned to the redheaded man once again and the sight made him sick. So sick that he had to bite his tongue and hold back any bile from coming up.  

Kim and Hailey clearly felt the same, both gasping from behind him.  

The annoying man had been left ‘alone’ with Will for plenty long enough because along with all his injuries, another gaping wound had been added. Will was riddled in open wounds, the longer you stared the worse they looked. This one, instead of sitting among the others in his torso, was nicely placed in his thigh which conveniently was just above where Jay had been shot.  

It seemed very convenient that every place on his body that had a wound were the places that bled the most. Will was having so much fun right now.

“Shit! Will!” Kevin rushed to kneel down before the slouched man. Chucking his gun and radio aside, quite carelessly, his brain short circuited before everything kicked in.

“Pressure.” Will coughed out, visibly struggling to keep breathing steadily. “You- you need to put pressure on it.” He repeated, wheezing as he liked his chapped and pale lips.

Without question, Hailey hastily took off the thin jacket she was wearing, rushing forward, and kneeling besides Kevin. With caution and slight apprehension, she positioned the jacket around his thigh but hesitated when she was supposed to tie it.

“This is going to hurt Will.” She said firmly, her strong tone warning him.

“The tighter…” Will started, slowly blinking up at the blonde woman who he knew secretly liked his brother and vice versa. “The better.”

And with that, Hailey tied the simplest knot and pulled hard.

“Fuck!” Will exclaimed, voice breaking. “Motherfucker-“

“Sorry! I’m so sorry but it’s all done.” Hailey incessantly apologised to him; her remorse visible on her face but before she could get up, she was stopped by a hand gripping her wrist.

“You have to go tighter.” Will stated, his fingers clutching her wrist as tight as he could but Hailey barely felt any weight. “Just like a torniquet. It has- has to be tight or else…”

“Will, stay with us man.” Kevin said, his tone leaking with urgency, almost pleading him. “You’re the doctor, walk us through it.”

Forcing his eyes open, Will blearily started at the three of them. His mind was completely muddled and subconsciously, he incredulously wondered how they hadn’t been trained to make a tourniquet in the field.

“Belt?”

Without further say, Kevin was getting up to unbuckle his belt easier, Kim replacing his space.

With much struggled, many pauses and tons of encouragement, they kept him alert enough for him to guide them through making a tourniquet around his thigh. The pain was unbearable, altogether it was blinding.

“I’m so sorry Will.” Kim whispered, sitting in front of him but she was alone with him, Kevin and Hailey gone off to find what was taking the medical attention so long to arrive. “Just a little longer I swear.”

“Jay! Stop panicking.”

“Hailey, it’s Will-“

“We’ve got him, go be with Y/N.”

“But Will- are you sure?”

“He’s trying his best, okay? Go be with our girl.”

And that might’ve been the last thing Will heard, the faint shouting between the two detective partners. Kim’s voice actually, he heard that last, her shouts for help when his eyes slid shut.

Actually, Jay’s desperate pleading, that was the last thing he heard.

*****

"It was part of protocol we run a rape kit."

Kelly couldn't breathe. His only saving grace being that Jay wasn't currently in the room with him.

"It came out clean."

Kelly physically deflated at the good news.

"It's going to take a while but she will recover. They both will." Ethan said, having permission from Crocket to tell him the news.

"And no one's heard anything about Will yet?"

The silence was so suffocating, if Kelly squinted, he could probably see Ethan turning blue from the lack of oxygen.

"We've been told we're waiting on a body. They want us to confirm it."

Kelly didn't need to ask for Ethan to break it down for him. He knew exactly what that meant.

If he looked the Korean man in the eye, Kelly would definitely see a thin sheen of tears coating his eyes.

*****

Antonio had been doing this for a long time, he’d seen and been through a lot himself but this, this would stay with him for a long time.

The guttural screams that tore his vocal cords to further damage. The blood trailed after him like the bread from Hansel and Gretel, painting the crime scene a war zone. His cries begging to know his baby brother and sister were safe and, in a hospital, where they could recover.

They were watching the innocent doctor become a martyr right before their very own eyes.

What happened next could only be explained by pure, sheer will and determination.

While they were hounding for an ambulance, Antonio caught men getting escorted away in cuffs, all looking identical until the final two men left the building. The rage he felt, Antonio didn’t know how any of them remained stationary.

It was a miracle Will came back to consciousness. When he closed his eyes and his body went limp, everyone truly thought that was it, after everything the Halstead’s had done to survive, this was the unhappy ending they were getting. But then, Will gave the biggest middle finger to fate because after all of this, she could be damned for all he could care.

Will remained alert enough, being continuously roused by each of the remaining intelligence members when they noticed his eyelids sliding shut. They tried distracting him, updating him on the wellbeing of his siblings, news that was happily provided.

The only ones that remained was Antonio and Kevin. The rest had been forced to accompany Jay just in case, they were all preparing for the worse case scenario. And Hank, he was making sure the bastards never got to see the light of day ever again.

Ten minutes passed. By now, it had been two hours since they got on the scene and an hour since they raided the warehouse. The more Will struggled; the more Antonio was losing his patience. Right before the naked eye, out in the open for the entire universe to see, Will was bleeding out; he was dying. Death was looming, crawling from a mile away but its stench was strong, it’s shadow too close for comfort.

Making eye contact with Kevin, they had a silent conversation and with no argument, they were lifting Will up and nearly carrying him towards the car.

This was their last chance and they weren’t going to wait for that ambulance anymore.

And for once, fate guided them with a beaming light. She overturned the hatred she'd shown and led them safely, holding out a much-needed lifeline.

And so when the car screeched to a halt at Med’s ambulance bay doors, Will found it easier to breathe.

Series Masterlist:

@mads-weasley @sowrongitslottie @elite4cekalyma @senjoritanana @hufflepuff-blackwidow @mrspeacem1nusone @kmc1989 @goth-cowgirl-03 @daggersquadphantom @photographerkaiya0306 @jamie0515 @samanthavitale @iamasimpingh0e @lanea-1 @swidkid @jamie0515

[whoreburslut]

For day 5 you could do table sex where Wilbur is writing songs for lovejoy and he wants inspiration so he calls the y/n and it carries on from there

Kinktober: Day 5

•table sex

gender neutral reader

sorry iv taken so long to write another part

(request kinda?)

recently wilbur had been at the studio a lot more than normal, staying late and going early. this has been happening for a few weeks now he claims it’s because the new ep is nearly done, but you’ve not heard one demo and he always gets your seal of approval on all the songs.

one morning you hear wilbur leave your shared flat early so nothing out of the usual, but you remember him saying he would be the only one in the studio today as the other boys were busy, this would give wil some time to work on some lyrics. you decide you should go down there today and take him lunch, maybe you could get a sneak peak of a song as well.

you get ready and leave the house to the subway, picking up your favourite orders then redirecting your self to the studio. when you arrive you knock before entering, “come in” you hear your boyfriends agitated voice just as you push open the door. he’s at the desk in front of a screen his head is in his hands that have a tight grip on his hair, a thing he often does when he’s stressed.

you proceeded further in to the room setting the bag on the desk, standing behind him you rest your hands on his shoulders and start to apply pressure hoping to soothe him with a small massage. he leans back in his chair and lets his neck fall back also while letting a small moan slip from his mouth, as the tension from his shoulders is taken.

your eyes widen at the noise you know it wasn’t at all sexual but heat travel to your core nonetheless, wilbur slowly opens his eyes looking up at you to see why you’ve stopped, he analyses your face seeing your face red with blush and in thought. he spins around in the chair so he’s facing you looking up at you so slightly, with a devilish smirk on his face he says “did that little noise turn you on darling” his voice raspy form all the singing he’s done.

you press your thighs together to try and hide your arousal but this only make it more noticeable to wil exactly how you were feeling, he slowly rises from his chair making the hight difference significant. he leans down to connect your lips is a kiss, once they pull away a string of saliva connects you, he turns you around so you both are now facing the wall your back pressed against wilburs front.

wil puts his hand on the back of your head and slowly pushes you down so you’re bent over the table, he slowly slides your top up so your bare nipples are on the table, slowly hardening with the coldness of the table you gasp at the feeling.

he slowly drags the pants over your ass and down your legs and taps you leg indicating you to separate them. he runs his hands over your ass cheeks and you start to wiggle your hips, as you are now craving to just be touched down where you need it the most. you feel him strike your ass and you yelp loving the feeling, he gets on to his knees and he licks a strip up your heat through the underwear.

“divine” he almost moans, ripping your bottoms down with haste. he plunges two fingers in to you seeming angry that he isn’t already inside, your quivering, all this attention to you and he just isn’t touching you right. he grips your waist hard and pulls you back in to his jeans, and you feel his whole length over your ass and you feel like you could cry because it’s not in you.

you look back so you could make eye contact with him, eyes welling up you pleaded out to him “please, please i need it so bad”. that seems to have really done something for him as he is already half way to taking his pants before you even finished, he pushes your head in to the table with force and he slides inside you.

you grip the table as he is finally doing what you’ve been wanting, and he move in you at a rough pace not giving you time to adjust to his size. you can hear the table keep slamming in to the wall as wil is fucking you nice and rough, wilburs strokes start to stutter so you know he’s getting close, you start to clench around him showing wil your close too.

wil starts moving with a pace and a force that you didn’t even know was human. the table banging on the wall gotten so much louder probably going through the sound proofing, he grabs your hair and pulls your head up slightly, as his last thrust comes and he buries his cock deep inside you. you can feel his dick pulsate as he spurts cum, he lets go of your hair and your knees go weak as the table catches you.

wilbur gets you both dress and sits you in his lap as you are all tired out after, “you did so well my love” his says with a kiss on the forehead.

wils head shoots up “this gave me the best idea for a song” he scoots the chair over tho the table, you hear him speak up again “i’m not sure it fits the vibe of the album though” he giggles. all you can assume it’s got something to do with the previous activities yous participated in.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

We bleed tonight IV

Previous chapter

a/n well I return from the dead to give you the last and final chapter of this unexpected series. What a journey it has been huh...

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Adapting to Day Court was quite a challenge. The months passed, but you felt nothing but an imposter. You knew you were safe, but no matter what you did, you just felt off. Afraid that the peace and quiet would be ripped away from you any minute. Still shivering at the sound of footsteps and at the shadows draping over corners of the room.

Helion, as much as he tried, didn't feel like a father to you. You appreciated that he never pushed it. Nor did he expect either of you to call him father. He was attentive and always showed up for all the meals. There was no forced bonding. If the conversation didn't flow, Helion never pushed it. Yet you had caught his hopeful eyes more than once. Watched him lean in and stagger back out of a hug. He yearned to have his kids back, but time had worked against him.

Helion talked endlessly about your mother. Madelain was a part of the conversation almost always, and it didn't surprise you, considering that he, Eris, and Lucien had been working on getting her out of Autumn. And back to where she always belonged: in her mate's arms. It was fascinating hearing Helion talk of her as if she were everything. As if all those years apart had done nothing but ignite more love between them. And you truly couldn't help but wonder if that's what a true bond felt like. Something that can't be ripped apart no matter what. No matter the distance. No matter the anger. Wrong choices. Pain caused. Always there. Always bounding two souls.

Your body hit a firm muscle wall, causing you to quickly draw your head up. "You're distracted, my lady", the familiar voice said, holding onto your hands to steady you. "My apologies. Head's all over…", You moved your hands quickly over your face, gathering your thoughts. Bringing yourself back to reality. The male smiled; his long black hair frown into a messy bun, and a smile painted his lips. "Could I offer you a walk through the gardens? Fresh air might help", he said gently, his hand suddenly moving to twist your curly hair around his fingers. Your face flushed crimson as you only found yourself nodding.

Arlo, one of the scholars who lived under Helion's protection made it all that much more bearable. You had been slumped in the library for over a week by then. Trying to distract yourself from all the chaos. The yarning in your soul. You would flip open a book. But the page wouldn't turn for hours. Unable to concentrate on anything but the voices in your head. "Pick a book, and I'll tell you what's troubling you", he had said then. Mother, did your heart skip a beat when you saw him for the first time? He was truly a handsome man. Strongly built. And with that mass of muscle, you would never even suspect him of being so soft. But even his moves were laced with a thread of gentleness. That softness that simply embraced you.

Arlo gave you a glimpse of what you wanted the most. Satisfied that longing for being no one again. Not a Vanserra anything but that. A chance for freedom once more. Nothing that promised the same highs or brought you the same lows. No, because he wasn't the man that you were chasing. Wasn't it the soul that your whole existence cried out for at night. Even with him moving between his legs and your back pressed against one of the statues in your father's gardens, you couldn't help but picture Azriel there, and you hated it. Hated that you couldn't escape the shadow singer.

Hated that the highs wore off faster than you would have liked. Because Arlo was so sweet, Mother knew how kind and caring he was, but the light he bore blinded you. It was too perfect. Too smooth. It made your damaged parts ache because you were nothing but an imperfection next to him. And that's what weighed on you. The darkness. The darkness that lingered, the darkness that was a part of you. A part that you couldn't rip out. It was there, and it was suffering between these perfect white walls and crystal chandeliers. Because this wasn't you. It had nothing that made you feel like yourself. It was a true state of static nothingness, and for that, you couldn't settle because it was leaving you lonely.

Night after night, Azriel woke up drenched in sweat. Night after night, he saw you. He felt you. And it drove him crazy. He could swear he saw glimpses of your days. He saw you. He saw that you weren't alone. He felt the sadness that twisted you. He felt the pleasure that your body scoured into. Brought by another male. Making Azriel roar at the pain and suffering it brought him. What a strange thing the band was! As if it too was blaming Azriel. Torturing him on its behalf. He saw you smiling, but he knew that your smile no longer belonged to him. No, it was brought by the male, whom you looked at as if the whole world turned around him. You looked at Azriel like that once, and now… Now, he wished he could just rip his heart out.

"Uncle Az, Uncle Az, you came", Nyx messily flew into his uncle's arms, wrapping himself around his neck. Azriel caught the boy quickly, pressing him closer to his chest. Managing to draw out a tight smile. The boy looked over his uncle's shoulder and asked, "Where's Aunty, Y/N?", the pang in Azriel's heart twisted. He hoped you would show up. You loved Nyx and the boy, well, he was fascinated by you. "She…", Azriel trills off. He never even thought about this. He never thought about how he was going to tell the people who didn't know about what happened. How he would cover up the fact that you were no longer together. That you weren't together because of him. Because Azriel lost control over his emotions and hurt you. He was one of those men. Not any better than Beron himself.

"Is she playing hide and seek?", Nyx twisted in Azriel's arms, "I need to go protect the cake". The boy quickly padded away, and Azriel caught Feyre's eyes from across the room. She held the shadow singer's gaze until a shien of sadness painted over them, and she shook her head. You weren't coming. The empty chair looked almost jarring. So out of place. So empty.

"Could I?", Azriel goes back to one of the first diners you all had. He had caught onto your sleepy frame. You tried to stay awake so hard, keeping eye contact with Cassian, who was so deep into the story that he was telling. Until Azriel spoke, and you instantly turned to him, "Could you what?", you asked, "Hold you.. I mean…", Azriel quickly cleared his throat, "Would you like to lean against me? This doesn't look too comfortable". And it wasn't. Your hand was going numb, and your wrist ached. You smiled up at him shyly. Back then, a part of him was sure that you would reject him. But you didn't. You leaned right into him, arms crossed over his neck, as you pulled yourself closer to Azriel's chest. Now his arms were empty. Cold and truly discussed him.

"Are you busy?", you cracked the doors to Lucien's office slightly. The hours were late, and the chance of him being asleep was high; however, the dim lights from beneath the door left you hopeful. "No, come in", his smooth voice rang out. Lucien quickly put his pen down. All of his attention was now set on you. You loved that about him so much. Well, learned to love. That when you needed him, he was there fully. It wasn't just a pinch of attention. He was there. Always ready. Always willing.

"You should be sleeping, missy", Lucien stated, the corner of his lips tilting upward as you frowned. "Oh, don't you start parenting me around", you padded towards his chair, opting for the little ottoman that stood close by. "What's keeping you up?", the velvet sound of Lucien's voice pierced the silence once more. Your sad eyes hurt him too deeply. Hesitation filled your senses. You didn't talk much about the past. It felt as if it had all been blurred out and painted over. And you hoped you had managed to paint over your emotions, but Lucien leaned in to read you. And within a couple of months, you were an open book to him.

"Do you miss Velaris?", your voice was almost a whisper. Lucien knew that tonight would be hard. Hence, he too opted not to go to Nyx's birthday. Leaving you here seemed wrong. And he knew that no one else around the palace would understand the sorrows within you. "Not necessarily…", the fireling trailed off; however, you quickly specified, "You miss Elain?". Lucien froze for a second before a deep sigh left his lips. "I feel too sober for this kind of conversation", you chuckled. Yet it wasn't a happy chuckle; it carried worries and sadness. The almost bitter one left a tingling loneliness. "I miss her, yes. But not seeing her makes it easier in a way," Lucien replied. His eyes were now as distant as yours as he watched ahead of himself. Without a doubt he pictured Elain.

The silence surrounded you two. Draping the mystery of the unknown all over the office, you two let the pain you hid come back to the surface. However, the next words made you stagger, "Do you think of him?" It was almost funny how no one spoke Azriel's name around the place. It was always him—the man, that guy. Helion left him out of the court meetings that were held there. A part of you was thankful for that. Until you started missing his eyes. Hoping to see them. Hoping for at least a glimpse. Because your mind was so torn.

That was the man who showed you love first. Who saw you first. Who empowered you first. He gave you a voice when no one else listened. He made you his everything. And freefalling with him was the best thing that had happened to you. But then he was the one who ripped through your happiness. Stomped on it and shredded it to pieces. You tried to justify it. You did. And it was true, that Beron was to blame. He was the one who planted the seed of doubt, but…

"There are a lot of what-ifs in my head", you admitted, pulling your legs closer to your chest. Letting your dress pool all around you, "I try to drown them out but…", "The nagging voice doesn't stop?", you only nodded your head. His shoulder sank slightly because he understood. Lucien understood.

"It was like that with Jesminda", your eyes instantly grew wide, "You don't have to", you reassured him. Knowing full well the tragedy of the story. The loss. The pain. That twisted it. "It happened long ago; it's okay", Lucien smiled sadly, running his fingers through his hair. Allowing himself a moment of silence. "We had this one big fight, and we cut it all off. I said many things that I regretted, and so did she", you watched how his expression turned sadder with every word that he spoke. "I ended up not seeing her for months; pride was too big. Until I felt like I was going insane because all I could think of was her", and you did know because that was how you felt. Because it felt as if there was a growing ocean between you. One that spread and got deeper with every passing moment. And a part of you wanted it to grow, but then there was that small version of you that cupped the water with your raw hands, trying to make the void smaller.

"But that's how you know it's love", Your eyes shot up to look at Lucien, who had been watching you this whole time. You bit the inside of your cheek as the memory surfaced.

"Why are you being so sweet?", your fingers pushed through Azriel's messy hair, "Because I love you." Azriel watched you for a heartbeat. Your hopeful eyes had been glazed with a shine that glimmered in the morning sun. As if his words had just broken a curse. As if you had never imagined anyone saying those words to you. "I love you. All of you. Had for a while now", Azriel admitted right as your arms and legs wrapped around his strong torso, bringing him closer to you.

Your eyes welled up with tears, and you quickly turned your face to the side. Hating the fact that you were crying once again, "It sucks though…", you shook your head, brushing your fingers under your eyes quickly, "Because I'm starting to think that's not enough".

The wind rippled through your hair, and the skirt of your dress fluttered behind you. The sky was pitch black. The darkness soothed the pain, and the cool nibbles of wind made you feel more alive than ever before. The sound of the fast stream beneath you chimed more like a lullaby. With hands wrapped around you, let yourself feel the sorely missed sense of belonging. There was no light; only nightfall surrounds you.

Yet your eyes seem to have opened up on their own. And there it was. The image you feared the most. One you had never pictured before, and yet it resembled the worst fear in your life. Your heart skips a beat. Right there in front of you, stood the figure you could've identified no matter where you were. Either in the brightly lit room or the darkest corners of the Earth. You wouldn't need to see it to know. All you would have to do was feel.

"No", you said under your breath. The male stood at the edge of the cliff, shoulder-slumped, his head hanging low. He was done. He was simply done. There was no sense of life about him. A shell of a soul that has given up on everything. "Don't you dare", you said a bit louder, trying to cross the distance between the two of you. The hills now seemed impossible to cross. All the sharp edges seemed to intensify. Your hands slipped alongside your feet no matter what you did; no matter how hard you tried to crawl toward him, you simply couldn't.

"Azriel, don't you dare jump", you shouted at the top of your lungs, screeching as you watched him step closer and closer. Merciless waves crashed beneath him. He was muttering something under his breath, something so distant, and it felt impossible that you could hear him, but he was calling your name and muttering as a prayer, as a cry for help. You did the same, calling and calling to him, hoping to catch his attention. His eyes filled up with tears, as helplessness tore through you, and then he jumped. That was it; he was falling, and you couldn't do anything. The most painful scream escaped your lips as you washed his body and submerged it in the cold water.

"Azriel, Azriel", you roared, falling to your knees. "Azriel", your body jolted upward. Your hands clenched the sheets beneath your body, body soaked in sweat. Your breaths were shallow. They didn't seem to want it to linger in your lungs. And then you were up. Pulling the first thing over your body. You could feel your heart pumping in your throat. Those same angry tears were now streaming down your cheeks. You stilled for a moment. Closing your eyes and clenching your fist, you felt the now familiar sense of darkness surround you. You didn't know where to go. But you trusted your heart to get you where you needed to be.

"Azriel", you muttered your mantra as the spinning stopped. The familiar scent filled your senses, subsiding your anxiety, yet you knew that you were not going to rest until you saw him. "Y/N?", it was more of a question than anything else as he stepped out of the shadows as if you were just yet another of his hallucinations. Afraid to step any closer because he might just chase you away.

Here he stood. The male you haven't seen in months. He wasn't drowning. He wasn't at the bottom of Sidra. He hadn't jumped. You let out a shaky breath. "You…", you muttered, stepping closer to Azriel, eyes still lingering all around his frame. "You jumped…" Azriel frowned; equally as much concern now laced his features. "Jumped?" You nodded your head, still fighting for air. "I saw… you…", Azriel's hands pulled you closer to him. And his warmth poured into you. The shouting in your head died down. It's all settled. "It's just a bad dream, a nightmare", he said softly, pressing his lips to the crown of your head.

You pulled away ever so slightly so you could see him. Look at him. Watch him say, "Your eyes…", you almost gasped when you noticed the dark circles beneath them and the slightly red tinge all around. "Sleep is not on my side as of lately", he chuckled slightly, but you could feel the pain there. That same pain that you've been sharing for months now. Had he been aware all this time? Had he looked after himself at all? "Don't cry, please, love", Azriel gently wiped away the tears that you didn't even know were streaming down your cheeks once more, "I caused you enough pain". Yet you shook your head at his words, reaching up to cup his face, the need to pull him closer awakening inside you. A need to feel him almost like your skin.

"Azriel, I've been thinking…", but you never got to finish as Azriel stepped back, pulling you away from his embrace. Yet still clasping your hands, he whispered, "Don't…", and you could hear the shaking in his voice, "Don't forgive me". A sob slips past your lips as you watch him. Watched as Azriel fought the sting in his eyes. How he tried to steady himself but failed. "Truth be told, you are the best thing that ever happened to me. I don't think I was alive until you came into my life", he continued, now allowing his thoughts to flow. Followed by the touch that stung him. Because he knew it was one of the last. That he couldn't bask in it. That he couldn't let himself enjoy the warmth of your skin. Because you would fade away eventually.

"And mother, did I fear every day that you would disappear. That I would have to find out what living without you feels like", a cry slipped past his lips. "Az…", you muttered, biting your wobbly lip, but he shook his head. "I just want you to know a few things", the shadow singer cupped your cheek, and you leaned into it. Lean into the touch that your body has been craving this whole time. "I'm sorry; I'm so sorry for what I did, and believe me. Even on my dying bed, I'll be cursing myself for it", he muttered, pressing his forehead to yours as your nails dug into his shoulders, "And I love you. I love you so much". You didn't trust your words, so you never gave him an answer. And he never got to know that a small part of you forgave him. That in the future, your paths may cross, and maybe just maybe love will be the only emotion there. That it was now. That your heart beats for him and him only.

And no, this love wasn't perfect. But neither were you two. Perfect wasn't a thing that could exist in this world. Perfection belonged in museums and exhibitions but not in day-to-day life. And maybe letting yourself bleed for the night in each other's arms was better than not bleeding at all. And maybe ripping that golden thread from each other's souls was the best thing you could've done for one another that night.

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All acotar writing taglist: @brekkershadowsinger @cityofidek @baebeepeach @lucyysthings @hideing @urfavbrunettebish @historygeekqueen @marina468 @courtofjurdan @bubybubsters

[jaemmphilia]

★ 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘪𝘯 ★ || seo c.b

★ summary: changbin has been so stressed out with the upcoming school semester. his professors are already drowning him in piles upon piles of work. and don't even get him started on his major. that's where y/n comes in. he can just sense how stressed out his poor boyfriend is, so he gets changbin's favorite food and some booze, making a date of the once stressful night.

★ characters: seo changbin, y/n

★ warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, reader is the sweetest boyf ever, vanilla sex, unprotected sex (say it with me, wrap it before you tap it), this is the softest thing ive written yet, changbin is stressed out from school, reader comforts changbin, mentions of alcohol, mentions of selling crack, changbin has body image issues in this one

★ word count: ~2.1K

★ requested?: yep, thank you @belladonna6-6-6

★ binnie's thoughts: i love domestic shit, despite not ever being in a committed relationship, so i am pretty much living my fantasies through writing... i hope you like it anyways !

★ disclaimer: this fic in absolutely NO way represents the stray kids members as people. this is just for fun, so don't take it to heart. just enjoy!

Changbin wants to drop out so badly at this moment. The semester started like two weeks ago and he wants to rip his hair out (“Babe don’t do that, we just dyed it back to a natural color after that green disaster!” He can hear your voice scolding him without you even having to be near him.). The poor boy is knee-deep in work already, and his dumb professors just keep adding to the pile. What’s he even getting out of doing all this work, anyways? A stupid piece of paper? He majors in music production, in what world will he ever need to know the formula to calculate the circumference of a triangle or whatever the hell it is? 

Changbin lets out his nth groan of the night, his face falling onto his open textbook. He feels tears behind his eyes from the frustration of it all. He wonders if he’s the only one struggling to keep up with all this work. He knows he should probably get up and move his aching legs, but the thought of falling behind on getting everything finished fills him with an anxious feeling. As he contemplates dropping out and selling crack on the street, a knock at his door causes him to open his eyes. He turns on his phone that sits beside his textbook. 10:46 p.m stares back at him. He’s a bit confused, he isn’t expecting anyone to be at his door at this time, so who could it be?

It couldn’t be Chan, he’s glued to his chair at the studio, slaving away making tracks for his music production class. It couldn’t be Jisung, either. He’s knocked out after spending the day with his long-time crush, Minho. So that really leaves only one person, but he honestly thought you would also be asleep after your shift at the campus’ daycare. Chasing kids of various ages all day is pretty draining work. 

Changbin gets up and opens his door, the stress of school and turning in half-assed assignments fleeing his body as his eyes land on your million-dollar smile. Your arms are carrying bags of all kinds, and his nose picks up the sweet smell of takeout from the joint just outside of the campus. 

“Binnie, I come bearing food and alcohol!” you sing as you make your way into his dorm. Changbin feels like he could cry. Not from frustration this time, but from happiness and love. Your timing couldn’t have been more perfect, he was close to having a mental breakdown, nothing going right for him. 

“I had a feeling you were glued to your chair, slaving away doing your work. And judging by the way you’re looking at me, my feeling was correct.” You place the bags down by the couch, and make your way to your hunky boyfriend. Standing in front of him, you wrap your arms around his neck, giving him a quick squeeze. Changbin’s hands automatically wrap around your waist, tugging you close to his warm body. He holds you tight for a few seconds longer, a silent thank you for coming to distract him from the cause of his stress. 

“You have no idea how happy I am to have you here right now. I was so close to ripping out my hair and crying in the shower with my clothes on,” Changbin mutters in your ear, his breath tickling you a bit, making you chuckle softly. 

You pull away slightly, your arms still his neck, hands clasped at the nape of his neck loosely. “I’m glad I could help, babe. Why don’t you call it a night and have a romantic date with me right here?” 

Changbin simply nods and presses a gentle kiss on your lips. He loves kissing you, it’s one of his favorite things to do with you. Kisses of any kind will always do it for him. Whether it be just a sweet peck or a full blown Frenchie, he easily becomes putty in your embrace. When things get intimate between you two, his plump lips have to be on you in some way, it really doesn’t matter to him, as long as he can smooch you as many times as he wants to.  You pull away from the kiss and your voice brings him back to reality. “I hope you’re hungry. I would be surprised if you weren’t, to be honest,” you say, making your way to the bags of food sitting on the table in front of the puke-green couch he found at the thrift store (you’ve always hated that damn couch, it’s tacky and an unflatteringly green color, you wish he would just get rid of it.). Changbin just chuckles, watching as you pull out two styrofoam boxes out of the bag. He plants his tired body on the couch, immediately sinking into the semi-comfortable cushions. He grabs the remotes to his TV and finds something for the two of you to watch while you eat. He starts up the movie when you sit beside him, cold drinks in your hands for you both.

The movie is long forgotten as you and Changbin make out lazily on the couch. His heavier body is on top of yours, his hands under your shirt, softly roaming the expanse of your chest and stomach. Any noise that leaves your mouth is muffled by Changbin’s soft and juicy lips. 

Both of you grind your lower bodies together, your clothed cocks rubbing together despite the layers in between. Changbin pulls away from your lips, chuckling at the way you chase him, trying to get more kisses from him. His thumb swipes along your swollen bottom lip, wiping the saliva left behind. “God, you’re so sexy, baby. I love everything about you, there is nothing you could do to make me not like you.” Changbin can’t help the words coming from his mouth, he’s just so drunk on your love that his mind is only thinking one thing: you. 

“Oh, Binnie. I love you so much, you’re perfect for me, love.” You reply, returning the sweet words as your hand cups his cheek gently, prompting him to connect his lips with yours once again. You hum, bringing your free hand under his loose shirt, the material pooling around his upper chest. Changbin gets the hint, pulling away from you so you can tug his shirt off. Once the shirt is discarded and forgotten, you zero in on Changbin’s impressive body. He has the nicest body you’ve ever seen in your life, he’s muscular, his skin is nice and soft like a peach, with the occasional mole littering the flesh. 

Changbin’s face warms up at your intense stare. “Baby, don’t stare, it’s embarrassing..” he mutters, his usually loud voice now soft and quiet. Your eyes flit up to look at the pools of deep brown. You’re aware of Changbin’s body image issues, he’s been very open with you about his true feelings about how he views his body. That’s why you have made it your mission to make sure this sweet boy knows that his body is perfect no matter what. 

You tell him what you always tell him when he starts feeling this way, “Binnie, whether you are skinny, fat, muscular, or squishy, you are perfect to me and I’m not with you because of your body. I’m with you because you are a genuine person with the best personality in the world. I’m with you because you love me for who I am, just like I love you for who you are.” 

Changbin can’t ignore the slight sting in his eyes and the rapid fluttering in his stomach. He truly loves you and he knows he wants to spend every waking moment of his life with you. He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t need to. His actions speak much louder than any word he could possibly say. 

His hands strip you of your shirt, and his lips make their way all over your chest, and he makes his way to the waistband of your basketball shorts. He tugs the shorts down until they’re at your ankles. You kick the garment off, careful not to kick Changbin… again. Changbin’s eyes roam your almost naked body, his teeth toying with his bottom lip. 

“Oi, why am I almost naked while you’re sitting there with your joggers still on? Chop chop, mister!” The pout on your lips is just so cute, Changbin can’t stop the laugh bubbling from his chest. Changbin removes himself from the couch, and he walks over to where you’re laid out on the couch, and he hooks one of his arms under the back of your knees, his other arm wrapping around your back, and he lifts you up with ease. A startled noise falls out of your mouth, your arm wrapping around him in urgency. You know he would never drop you, but being picked up out of the blue has never been your thing. You allow Changbin to carry you to his room, and he carefully lays you down on his very comfy mattress, and he rids himself of his dark gray joggers.

With his hands on his hips, he cocks an eyebrow at you, “Are you happy now? We’re both equal amounts of nakedness.” 

“Hmm, you drop your boxers and I’ll drop mine. Then we’ll definitely be even.”

“Anything for you, my prince.” 

“Don’t you ever call me that again, Changbin.”

After you both are fully naked, you both allow your hands to explore each other’s bodies, even though you’ve done it a million times in the duration of your four year relationship. Changbin is kissing you softly while his hand is splitting your hole open with three fingers lodged deep inside. You’re whining into his mouth, your back arching off the bed below you. Your cock is painfully hard, the tip of it a flushed red color similar to your natural skin tone. 

Changbin pulls away from your lips, and he starts to speak to you, “I want to try a new position, baby,” you just nod at him and allow the male to adjust you the way he wants to. He pulls your body to the edge of the bed, and he stands in between your spread legs. He takes his length in his hand, pumping it a few times before he places the tip at your fluttering hole, rubbing the tip along the crack of your ass before he’s pushing past your rim. You will never get over that initial pressure of his cock sliding past your hole, it always feels weird, but that weird feeling is quickly gone as soon as Changbin’s hips snap forward. 

Changbin sets the pace, his hand on your lower stomach as his hips come in contact with the back of your thighs, the sharp sounds of skin slapping together echoes loudly in the small room. You’re letting out the prettiest noises, whines and soft chants of Changbin’s name falling past your parted lips. Changbin doesn’t speed up or slow down, he thinks this pace is just right for you both, he wants to thank you for always being there for him, and he wants the moment to last a little longer than it normally would. His length slides in and out of you, his many veins rubbing your walls in the best way. Your hand is lazily stroking your own length, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as the pleasure courses through your body. Changbin is grunting above you, his hands gripping your hips tightly, tugging your body to meet his thrusts. 

The two of you continue to fuck like that for a while, and you know Changbin is close because his grunts turn into soft whines, his name falling from his lips as his hips begin to stutter and skip. Changbin ends up pulling out you and he takes his length as well as your own length. He jerks you both off until you both spill on his hand, moaning each other's names as you finish. Changbin pants as he uses his arms to hold himself up on the bed, his legs feeling like jelly. You scoot on the bed until you’re laying normally. 

You look at Changbin as you catch your breath, a smile on your face. After sex glow looks good on Changbin, he’s all sweaty and his hair sticks to his forehead, his pupils blown wide as he comes down from his high. You watch as he wipes his hands on one of his many dirty towels that sits on the floor. Looks like you’ll have to do some laundry while he’s in class tomorrow. 

“Binnie, come cuddle with me, I’m sleepy,” You whine, your arms wide and welcoming. He just chuckles and jumps into your arms, peppering kisses all over your sweaty face, making you laugh. You would do anything for this man, and you can only hope he feels the same way.

[tremendum]

twin suns ; your shadow at morning

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part three of the Twin Suns series  ;  prologue  ;  part i ; part ii

pairing: au (canon-divergent), western-inspired Din Djarin x fem!bounty!reader (afab, w use of woman, girl, etc) rating: eventually explicit in future chapters. slow slow burn. (18+. mdni.)  

warnings: canon-typical violence, themes of hunting/being hunted, fear, a brief mention of vomit twice, pretty bad injuries and descriptions of reader's blood/injury,, temporary blindness still, mean!Mando, lots of sand description like anakin would h8 this, slightly possessive themes

synopsis:  “the messenger nods, his expression revealing nothing. 'good. prepare yourselves. the journey is long, and the desert does not forgive hesitation.'” 

word count: 4.7k. 

notes: hii :) silly how i haven't posted in months??? sorry ive been away, just having a hard time rn. but here's part 3, it's still going a bit slow because i love a good slow burn but we're getting to some yummy parts in the next few chapters ;) lmk if ive missed ur tag, i lost my taglist.

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for what may be the first time in years, you don't wake up with a start.

this visit to consciousness is pulled rather slowly from a lone yearning sensation. you're not sure what it is - or if it's even real - a feeling deep in the corner of your brain that urges something along the lines of wake up! wake up! 

and when your brain finally starts to stir, it's with a heaving breath of pain from deep within you, as if someone had taken the spongy material and hurled it against the dartboard of a cantina.

your face twitches against something gritty. oh- there's kriffing sand in your teeth. on your tongue.

it feels heavy, dusty. wake up! 

your eyes open slowly as you let out an exhale into the rusty ground. 

they slide open like dry, grating sandpaper against your tired irises, but to your shock, you're met with nothing - nothing changes, besides a shift from black to mauve. 

in a moment of sheer panic, your head reels upwards from the sand and, despite the screams of protest within your throat, you twist your head around.

wait- wait! you can make out a bit of light. there's... two faint dots in your vision, faint and searing at the same time. 

twin suns. 

you resist the urge to scream or gasp in fear - yet the burning sensation from holding back both still evokes your body to twist slightly from your stomach to your side. it is mere seconds before you are expelling all the remnants of fear and confusion and rage from your stomach to splay across the small mountain ranges of eroded sand carved by wind. 

the ringing in your ears ebb when you can finally make out a squeal, a cry - something between the two - less out of pain or horror, but of concern.

green comes into your mind, for whatever reason - then shortly and likely consequently, the faint realization that you cannot fucking see a thing. 

oh. oh. 

the suns. the miserably lonely nights. stale wind whistling through empty valley corridors. a lonely girl in an abandoned apartment ripped open by the forces of galactic war years ago; blaster at your hip, blades on your thigh. 

unfriendly company. a vision of your own face plastered on a holo just to the side of a Neerok table. 

that strange metal hunter and his little green accomplice. a tickle of excitement in the shadow that followed you for weeks. a cat and mouse game. 

happy hunting, Mando. 

a lasso. the headscarf wrapped around a small baby. the carbonite chamber. 

maker's mother - Maracavanya. 

they'd shot you back down into Tattoine's dunes. 

oh Gods, you're wrecked, with the hunter, back on Tattoine. 

perhaps your eyes roll back into your head as you slump back - no way to know for sure - a gasp of pain from the left side of your skull. you weakly pull a hand to your brow and it's vaguely warm, wet, sticky when it pulls back. oh. 

you wince, your nostrils flaring as you pick up the thick smell of smoke and sharp jetfuel burning. 

kriff, those suns are searing behind your unseeing eyes, your legs are still pins and needles, you're- oh, your face is throbbing dully with the numbing agent. maybe carbonite wasn't the worst thing to happen to you in the last thirty minutes. 

your hands grasp at the ground, handfuls of sand which slip right through your dry fingers as you keel over again, expelling nothing but bile and then after a few moments nothing but choked, burning air that you fight to suck in and out of your lungs. your head doesn't feel right; be it the blindness or the crash? 

the bounty hunter calls your name from far away, as your ears buzz - but the grip you have with your right hand sends a shooting agony through your entire being and a yell of pain ripples through the air. 

crying, after that - the baby. you startled him with your roar of pain. fear strikes you - is he okay? he wasn't strapped in when you crashed, was he? you can't remember.

leathered hands wrap around your chest and for a split, childish moment, your arms twitch; almost as if you were about to grab him back. but it's not an embrace, you chastise your foolish, betraying mind.

the Mandalorian wraps something around you, a rope. around your waist again. 

it clicks in your head, fuzzy from the crash. how'd you even get out of the ship? 

"wh-" you croak, unable to form words as you grapple with your mind for something to ground yourself. "are we back on Tattoine?" you ask, voice much too meek; the blistering heat sure feels like Tattooine. silence, besides a grunt of his own pain from the man who tugs you up onto staggering legs, leading you up through what you imagine is the hull and past the thick burn of smoke that cause you to cough so deep your body starts to sway.  

his hands are sturdy and unforgiving on your upper arm until you're guided to what feels like a cot, a severe absence of light causing your mind to panic, heart beating wildly at the sudden loss of sensory cues. it's all black, now.  

"is..." you sound so unlike yourself it almost knocks you off your feet. "is the child okay?" you ask, throat burning. it's silent for a moment too long and fear strikes down on your heart, assuming the worst.

"yes." the Mandalorian finally confirms. you let out a shaky sight of relief, nodding as your body is then pushed until you sit on weak legs. "if you're going to pass out, try to stay upright." the voice says, unforgiving. 

his footsteps are heavy as he stalks away, your lips screaming silently for water.

a hesitation in the footsteps has your heart thundering in fear, your arms swallowing yourself until you're curled in on your chest. you're too weak to try and protect yourself from him.

the gaze you've come to know is burning though your unseeing eyes; you can almost see that glint of the helmet in your mind. he says nothing, just stares.

you wish he would just leave.

the quiet is so absorbent, it hurts your numb mind. the baritone breaks the silence, again. 

"-and if you're going to throw up again, do it on the durasteel." 

you're not sure how long you sleep for. 

when you wake, you're on your side, slumped against the side of the cot; your neck creaks as you slowly stir upwards, eyes cracking open slowly. 

a peek of light creaks in through the hull as you groan, eyebrows furrowing as far as they can. you're puffy, you can feel it. your brow and temple are swelled and likely bruised. looking down out of habit, you can tell that the aching, searing pain in your hand has only worsened - the numbness of the carbonite chamber wearing down too soon.

you're fucked when it's completely gone, realizing now that not only do you likely have a broken hand and several broken ribs, but that your brow bone is surely chipped, your brain bruised from knocking too much against your skull, and you're right and proper screwed. 

there's a gash on your thigh that has since stopped bleeding, but you're sure if it's not dressed and attended within forty eight hours, you'll succumb to the sand mites that infest the plains outside. you're too busy assessing your injuries to realize it; when you do, you let out a sharp screech, shaking your head as your hands fly up towards your cheeks. 

you can see again - sort of.

light sources peek out at you through a blanket of thick fog. 

it's as if you'd taken semi-translucent paint and slathered it over your retinas - especially in the low light, it's hard to catch anything besides a faint glint and the outline of metallic shapes in the hull. still, it fills you with some sort of giddy elation; perhaps spurred on by your head trauma and the sheer shock of the events, you huff a short laugh to yourself. your fingers on your good hand wiggle slightly, you can see the motion as you wave up at yourself. 

maybe this isn't a permanent blindness, then. 

but a twitch from your bad hand has you gasping in sheer pain, biting down on your lip to keep quiet in fear of stirring the Mandalorian from whatever corner of the ship he lurks in. your stomach flips at the fleeting thought that he could have been there, watching you this whole time in the darker shadows of your sight - and you'd have had no clue. 

your moment of joy is over when reality washes over your entire body: you're stuck with the Mandalorian with a severe disadvantage: sure, his ship is wrecked, but you have impairing injuries and little to no sight. 

he's likely injured, too, but not enough so that he's unable to use a hand - or his brain- like you.

you deftly get to work, your movements like a well oiled machine after months of repairing yourself on your own. you can't shake the creeping fear that the Mandalorian is watching you; you swear a movement from the corner of your limited sight moves and you nearly jump out of your skin. 

if he's there, he doesn't move a muscle as you slowly start to tear at the material of your tunic, ripping the bottom hem until there's one long strip. biting down on your lip, you apply pressure to the points in your hand that you're sure are broken, knowing the better wrapped it is, the better it will be for you.

the hardest thing you can find on the floor near you to bite down on is shoved between your teeth as you swiftly start to push your fingers back, aligning knuckles that'd been sprouting from your hand like gnarled tree branches. 

you groan out anyways - muffled, yes, but only by the long, cool, durable object between your teeth as your head falls against the wall in pain. 

fuck. 

as you assess your wounds in the dark, trying futilely to wipe the blind fog from your eyes, the thoughts swirl around your mind. 

doubt creeps into your head from the cracks in your resolve; because you're not a fool. there's no true way that you could warble your bottom lip a bit, blindly insisting that you were innocent, and the Mandalorian would just fold when faced with an entire ship of pirates who were willing to pay him his entire weight in credits for you. there's no way you were that good. 

so what was it that'd snapped in that emotionless helmet of his that prompted the escape attempt?

the money? the Maracavanya clan is not nearly as trustworthy as whoever casted a puck to the bounty guild for you; he has to feed himself and the child, maybe he really is strapped for cash. sure, the beskar goes for a very pretty pence or two nearly anywhere in the galaxy, but you're also fairly sure there's something very sacrilegious about a Mandalorian selling his own armor. 

so you're the means to an end - not the first time, and probably not the last, given that you somehow escape the Mandalorian's grasp alive.

there's no way, as a rational person, that you can realistically imagine beating the Mandalorian in combat in your current state. he'd throw you down to the sand within seconds; you can try to outsmart him, considering you've been evading him for weeks up until this point, but it will be much more difficult to do so in the middle of the desert plains with such injuries. 

you're fucked. 

and you realize, as you dap away at the wound on your head with a strip of cloth, that if it's the child's mouth you're indirectly feeding by being turned in, then that's an externality you aren't terribly furious about... but the Hunter, on the other hand...

you're feeling less dizzy as you finish doctoring yourself in the dark of your blindness, but the numbing agent is surely wearing off; aches and stings and gasps tear from you as the minutes wear on. you're too weak to stand. water and food would go miles for you right now- maker, if you could just- 

you shift accidentally and a searing pain rips a tearing yelp from your raw throat. the object you'd shoved between your teeth falls with a cland onto the durasteel floors.

your hand flies to stabilize yourself on the object you'd let fall - a vibroblade, the hilt wrapped in a sharply oiled leather and blade serrated; oh. 

at least you'd had the wherewithal to stick the hilt side of the blade between your teeth. thanking your lucky stars, you quickly move to sheath the blade in the waistband of your pants. you'd felt less than whole ever since the Mandalorian had taken your blades; you'd only ever carried a small blaster.

you wonder where he'd discarded them absently - clearly, he was not one to waste a weapon, had he taken yours and added them to his arsenal? a trophy, for one more notch on his ammo-belt? bitterness floods your mouth as your lips shape into a scowl - in a world full of blaster pistols and rifles, you'd preferred a more agile melee skillset when training. it wasn't well equipped for the rolling and harsh isolation of the sandy wilderness; arid and desolate just as the people you've met here. it was much more suited for where you grew up, and maybe you were too.  

nonetheless, this vibroblade feels like coming home and your heart cools as you feel the cold of the blade against your spine. 

"don't." 

you jump out of your skin in shock, hand instinctively flipping the blade until it's concealed up your forearm, the hilt upside down against your palm. 

you resist a growl of irritation at his slinkiness; when did the Mandalorian show up? you crane your neck upwards towards where you'd heard the word, your jaw tightening. "do you have any other words in your vocabulary?" you snap. you feel as though you've said this before.

"give me the blade."

he's not asking- he seems like the kind of man who's never had to ask for anything in his life. you roll your eyes out of habit, shaking your head. 

what are you going to do, anyways? swipe blindly towards a man covered head to toe in impenetrable metal? you have a decent grasp on up and down purely based on gravitational pull. in a moment, you consider spitting, like you were taught to do in the rumbling avalanches of the cold season back home to orient yourself, just to spite him - you bite your tongue in fear of losing a hand lest your spit graces the Mandalorian's sacred armor. 

a moment of panic sends you into a desperate lurch to plead with the Mandalorian. "I don't have a weapon," you insist, "if I could just-"

roughly, his gloved hand pries the blade from your grasp with a harsh tug. "what makes you assume you deserve a weapon? you're my prisoner. just because I didn't freeze you doesn't mean any different."  

his words are final; besides, you're reeling through pain on most surfaces of your body and many spots internally; there was no chance for you to put up a fight, so you drop it.

for a moment you expect him to whirl around and disappear from your faint field of vision - but there's a faint motion; a shine above your eyeline and then too soon, a click. 

kriff. 

you don't have to see to know the click of a safety when you hear one. 

"I'll only ask one more time." the Mandalorian's slow, cold voice crackles through the static of his modulator. "who else is after you?"

you can tell this is not turning out to be the bounty capture he'd anticipated - you feel half triumphant but half regretful. 

upon first instinct, your mouth creaks open to spew some half-planned lie, but knowing better, you just grit out, "why were you after me?" 

he's a statue of a shadow in your faint sight - body large enough to cover most of the cot's lights as he towers over you, staring down the barrel. "what else aren't you telling me?" he asks, voice crackling with danger and frustration. 

defiantly - as if you aren't incapacitated in his broken ship, barely able to breathe without yelping in pain - you sneer back at him. "why do you care?" 

"I'm trying to make sure I don't get shot out of orbit again." he snaps, hips moving as he shifts, blaster still pointed at your forehead. "there are far worse people in the galaxy that could have gotten to you."

who is he to tell you that? he tried to freeze you in carbonite. you can't help as your brows furrow in skepticism, "well, forgive me if I don't take your word for it." your voice drips in sarcasm. 

he shifts, starting to rustle with some blaster pistol on the side table, finally moving his weapon away from you. "you should've told me about the others. I could've prepared better."

a bitter, ironic laugh tumbles from your raw throat, "oh, and what? you would've graciously shared your bounty with me?" you mock, rolling your eyes. his grandiose attitude is grating deep into your nerves. 

the Mandalorian's voice is firm. "I protect my assets. it ensures you're alive to give me what I need." 

your veins light as you hiss, furious: "I'm not some object you can just take!" you snap. you're aching, furious.

you're sick of people in this galaxy stepping their boots over your spine and trading you around. 

"if you're so sure you're not, why do I have this?" he retorts, sarcasm slipping through his mask. 

he tosses a small object just to your side onto the cot and the mere shape of it makes your mouth sour. you don't need to see it to know what it is.

your puck. 

you exhale harshly, feeling angry, cold, in pain, and miserably alone in the universe. once again proved wrong in your short string of optimism of the good in people, you deflate.

"I'm not someone you can deceive. I took this job because it's my Creed, not for personal gain." he adds after your silence.

the tension in the room is palpable - you feel as though you could pass out in any moment, and Maracavanya, the Mandalorian, your old partner... a cell, guards with vibro-clubs,  galactic court - all of it beats down on you, striking freezing fear into your heart.

it is perhaps through this fleeting weakness that you allow yourself a small whisper to him, "you don't understand what's at stake for me." 

"you're right." he says.

he walks away silently, but you can tell he's gone. the words he doesn't say linger still, cold and lonely and harsh in his wake. you close your eyes, knowing only rest could help you heal now - but the unspoken words of the cold man haunt you waking and asleep. 

you're right, I don't understand - and I don't care.

he arrives just as quietly as he did the first time. 

your sight is coming in slowly - it's been hours, likely, of you lying still in the rock-hard cot, staring at the nothingness, willing the sparse bacta spray and ointments you'd kept saved on your person to kick in and relieve you. 

he says your name. 

it startles you. 

you don't dare respond, not nearly bothering to rise and welcome your captor into your (his, your mind reminds you) quarters. he comes in anyways, walking with a stiff, uncomfortable swoop. 

"we have a follower." he states, leaving you to pull up your brows, sitting slowly. your shock must be evident on your face. a sleeve falls over your shoulder as you sniff, "we?" you mock.

he doesn't take the bait, as always; turning on his heels, the man stalks out of the cot, down towards where rusty, hot wind blows sand over the dilapidated entrance to his ship. he must've just returned.

the entrance to the ship had taken just as bad a beating as you; more than once in your miserable moments of recovery you'd wished quite bitterly that the Mandalorian had considered upgrading his ship with the same precious metal shell he wrapped his nearly-unscathed self in.

you have to scramble to follow him, squinting as if it will help your impaired vision. a dark wall of metal moves just out of your field of vision, and you chase it. "where have you been?" you ask then, not nearly as concerned by his first sentence as you are with his sudden arrival. 

when you'd woken, you'd crept out of the small cot, feeling with your hands on the walls to keep you upright and trying to avoid your hips from encountering a spare corner. it was then, with feelings of both relief and anxiety, that you determined he wasn't anywhere on the ship, and neither was the Child. 

"in town." he sounds impatient, urgent. "w-" 

you're shocked. "-you left me alone?" you ask, incredulous as your brows raise. the shine of his beskar can just barely be made out through your blindness. you nearly laugh - at his stupidity, or of the irony that you had your chance to escape and slept through it. 

"the Crest locks from the inside." he retorts. your brows furrow, "what?" 

"when I tell it to, it locks it from the inside." it's clipped, his voiced laced with irritation and a hint of condescension. your blood boils, but he has no time for your mocking tone. 

"listen." he utters, voice closer than you expect - instinctively, you jerk back, widening the space between Mando's helmet and your face. "I was in town buying parts. a man followed me back here - about a click away. saw him in the cantina a while ago, and again at the market the other day. he's been following me, so I led him here. you are to stay on the ship." 

it's the most words you've ever heard from him - if you didn't know any better, you'd think he was doing this to protect you. bitter fear curls into you as your brows furrow under your scarf, twinging in a bit of pain from your healing injuries. he's not protecting you - he's protecting his assets. making sure he's the one to win the prize of your capture. 

and he doesn't seem like the kind of person who keeps as many friends as he does enemies.

it's like clockwork - a slamming noise shuts off whatever retort was building on your lips.

Mando whirls around, whipping his blaster out as he stalks towards the entrance to the broken ship. as quiet as possible, you slide down the rungs behind him, blatantly ignoring his orders; just then, a voice calls out. 

"Mandalorian?" a moment of hesitation in the hunter's shoulders. then, chillingly, you gasp as the voice calls out a second name. 

yours. 

from what your weak eyes can make out, the man standing outside the wreckage of the Razor Crest is a Rodian - his emerald skin contrasting sharply with the desert. you stare in shock from behind the Mandalorian's frame, hoping you're far enough away that the large, multifaceted eyes of the man can't detect you. 

he wears earth-toned robes that blend with the desert surroundings, a testament to his familiarity with the unforgiving terrain; peculiarly, his attire is practical, with layers of fabric offering protection from the twin suns' scorching rays and the harsh winds that sweep across the dunes, but upon his waist, a belt secures a small satchel - and, more bizarrely - and an emblem for the city of Mos Espa.

his movements are deliberate and measured - posture unwavering despite the blaster pointed towards him. a few feet down the ramp from you, the Mandalorian stands vigilant, his beskar armor glistening under the twin suns and reflecting into the sensitive layers of your eyes.

"who are you?" he asks, voice low and chilling. 

the desert winds howl, carrying whispers of the unforgiving sands across the barren dunes of Tatooine and your weak skin tingles against the particles. finally, the man speaks.

"I come on behalf of my master. he requires your presence at his palace."

palace? your bones chill; what palace in this miserable rock would have business with the Mandalorian? his helmeted gaze bores into the messenger, giving you a split moment to take a deep exhale.

"who is your master that he can't come find me himself?" Mando's voice is gravelly, edged with caution, though he lowers his gun with a hesitant recognition in his voice. 

the messenger's eyes flicker, betraying a trace of unease. "not just you. he requests both of you."

your stomach flips. oh, Maker. 

before you can stop yourself, you take a staggering few steps until you're next to the Mandalorian, who gives you a cold stare. 

with your eyes narrowed against the faint sights in front of you, the gears of your mind whir. "and if we refuse to go?" you ask, voice scratchy. fear pounds in your chest like a wild beast needing escape. 

the man folds his hands diplomatically. "the Daimyo has requested your presence at his palace, both of you. he does not extend such invitations lightly - he has his reasons, and you would do well to hear them from his own lips."

oh. oh, kriff. recognition floods through you - a combination of relief and utter fear. 

your brows lift, "the Diamyo?" 

an old friend, your mind whispers, sardonic and teasing. 

a tense silence hangs in the air, broken only by the distant cries of native creatures and a cooing at the Mandalorian's side. a breath of hope is breathed into your chest at the realization that the Diamyo's palace could be just what you need to escape this metal shadow; a shift in the breeze sends your hair around your face and you're soon filled to the brim with anticipation - you need to do this. no matter the danger it entails, what tricks may lie within the halls of the palace... 

it's your only hope. 

out of pure accident, your eyes land on Mando in what is a fleeting glance, a silent conversation that neither of you intended. it's as if both of you know that this meeting could change the course of both of your journeys, somehow - a threatening veil soon placates your mind, knowing the Mandalorian has surely already considered your plans for escape.

with a sigh heavier than the beskar he shrouds himself with, Mando nods. irritation is laced through his voice. "fine. we will go to the palace."

the messenger nods, his expression revealing nothing but a slight air of relief that notches a bit of anxiety into you. "good. prepare yourselves. the journey is long, and the desert does not forgive hesitation."

and with that, the messenger turns and retreats into the unforgiving expanse along with the dying suns, leaving you to face the remnants of Mando's ship and the uncertain path that lay ahead.

the man is long lost to the fading horizon of the desert when slowly, the hunter pulls a pair of cuffs from his belt; your stomach drops as you hang your head in frustration. 

"may I at least use the 'fresher, first?" you snark, sending the cold statue a false smile. you haven't bathed in days - your hair needs a cleanse desperately and you're sure there's more than enough blood, dirt, and grease caked into your skin. 

his grunt is angry as he slams shut the ramp, sealing you into complete blindness in the lack of bright lights. despite his anger, the Mandalorian pulls your incapacitated self into the fresher and slams the door shut. 

as you shower and relish the last moments of what little, bizarre freedom you had since being captured, you wonder if he's still right outside, waiting for you to step out. 

he is.

it's with a pit of misery at the bottom of your stomach that you sit in the corner of the cargo bay with your hands bound together and watch him clean and prepare every single weapon he can fit on his person.

whatever reason the Mandalorian has to listen to the request of the Diamyo, he doesn't tell you. he doesn't do much except run his gloved fingers slowly over the vibroblade you'd tried to steal - the glint of your harsh teeth marks barely detectable to your impaired vision. he sheathes the blade on his hip, to your surprise. a daunting reminder of his power over you.

and as much as you try, you can't ignore the feeling that the fate of your soul is about to rest in the hands of Boba Fett and the mysteries that await you within the walls of his palace. 

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taglist (message to join). @silkiers @leithatnight @totallynotastanacc @afandomidiot @bbyanarchist @clear-your-mind-and-dream @notsosecretspy @djarins-cyare @satireclub @famefoxx @sunnywithachanceofjavi ​

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[canarycolemine]

In Season

Summary: Springtime means one thing: getting railed in a sundress.

Papa Emeritus IV x Original Female Character

Warnings/Tags: 18+ for explicit sexual content, light dom/sub, older man/younger woman, oral sex, vaginal sex

WC: 3k

Ao3 Link

Sister Evie had been waiting weeks for the weather to turn right to wear her new dress around the Abbey. She ordered it specifically for the warmer season and knew it would highlight every one of her curves deliciously. Light pink, with a corset wait and ankle length billowing skirt. Perfectly twirlable. Tits pushed up to high heavens. She knew her Papa could simply not resist how innocent she looked.

It was a Sunday, on a day where all siblings of sin and clergy members were permitted to wear street attire. Sister Evie sauntered down to the dining hall for her breakfast - her long black hair flowing behind her. So carefully planned, she was later than most siblings to the meal.

She could feel nerves building as she was nearing the hall, the cacophony of fellow siblings socializing starting to become closer. She was not known to wear such pompous clothing. Mentally, she reassured herself: siblings are kind to one another, always supportive.

And, Papa would not be able to take his eyes off of her sweet form.

Evie took a breath, knowing she had to remain calm to play the role. She wanted Papa to see her in the pretty dress. She wanted him to have sinful thoughts about her, dreaming of corrupting her, using her and discarding her. And she would remain sweet to only him.

The sister realized that a new kind of nerves was building her stomach. She needed to put those thoughts out of her mind, she had a performance to give.

She rounded the corner to enter the dining hall. The entire abbey was already fast at work on the fine spread prepared for breakfast. Groups of siblings chatting, laughing and at ease.

It was always interesting to see siblings out of their cassocks and habits, in favor of the other clothes they owned. Band t-shirts and ripped denim jeans, smart skirts and comfortable sweaters. Although being in a uniform made getting ready easier, there was something to be said about the lack of individuality. Who knew Brother Ezra was into Whitney Houston? How does Sister Diane’s boobs look incredible in everything she wore?

Evie smiled, taking in the sight of her found family.

“Holy shit, Evie!” Sister Kate drew attention to Evie.

Other siblings turned to the object of the sources’ gasp. A chorus of gasps and wolf-howls were directed towards Evie. She had worried for naught. The sister blushed and averted her gaze, waving away the compliments.

She knew that she was often perceived as just purely sweet by the fellow siblings. She was the hard working, kind sister of the infirmary. But damn, she knew how to dress her body. Who knew she possessed such a figure?

The man staring her down.

Papa IV had held his breath since she had walked in. He was worried why his sweet Evie was late to breakfast, hopefully her allergies weren’t acting up. It was that time of year. Either way, she would certainly need to be punished for making him worry. All thoughts left his mind at the sight of her in her pink dress. She looked so soft for him, pure.

By Lucifer, she just twirled in her dress for her friends, his heart melted. How the older man adored his sweet Evie.

His fondness for her turned into a heat, a need to touch her. Oh, she was going to make this a difficult meal for Papa.

Evie shifted her gaze up to the head tables, where the upper clergy ate their meals. She smiled sweetly at her Papa. His gaze was stoic but entirely zoned on her.

She had him exactly where she wanted him. A sly grin graced her face.

The sister walked over to the breakfast spread to pick out her meal. Strawberries were in season, she simply must have them.

After sufficiently filling her plate, Evie sat with her friends. She positioned herself so that she could be in full gaze of Papa.

“He’s looking at you, Evie.” Sister Diane said.

“Good.” Evie said confidently, casually. She did not want to let Papa know that she knew what she was doing. She was a lamb, he was the butcher. “What should I do now?”

“Eat the strawberries all sexy.” Sister Kate sat facing away from Papa, like she was the director of the scene. “Like, ‘oh, I love having things in my mouth! Please Papa, you next!’”

“Don’t be so loud, Papa might hear you” Diane interjected. “We’re creating a scene: Evie gets railed in a sundress.”

Evie was now thoroughly laughing at her friends’ frankness. “I’ve always appreciated your subtlety, sisters.”

Delicately biting into the sweet fruit, Evie made a show of wiping the juice that trickled down her neck onto her chest. Kate made a face at Evie’s blatant performance. “Ever the performer!” All the while, Evie avoided the mismatched gaze of Papa.

His gaze never left her. How brash of a show she was putting on. Wrapping her lips around the bulbous fruits, gently wiping her breasts. She looked perfectly corruptible. There was no way she didn’t know what she was doing to the older man. It was almost mocking him.

“Something the matter, Copia?”

Papa IV turned to the voice, it was his ever flamboyant, boisterous predecessor.

“No, no, no. Nothing is the matter”

“Fratello, you’ve been staring down the little Sorella ever since she walked in.” The Third Emeritus brother smirked, gazing down at Copia's lap. “I can see the, ah, effect she has on you.”

Copia focused his gaze, angrily on the dandy man.

“I would feel the same, you see. She’s a lovely sorella, and that dress, I would very much like to see it on the ground in my quarters.”

“Tread lightly, fratello…”

“And what I would give to hear her scream my name, instead of yours. She’s quite loud, you know, I can hardly sleep when she visits you in the night.”

“Stai zitto! Figlio di puttana!” Papa IV smacked his hand down onto the head table. “Let’s see who she screams for then, si?”

By now, the entire hall had gone quiet, staring at the scene that erupted at the upper clergy’s table.

Papa IV, pushed back from his chair and walked towards the tables of the lower siblings. His pace was deadly, determined, hungry.

Evie saw Papa boring towards her, that familiar fear creeping up again. The fear that elicited the sweetest feelings, the helplessness she would soon feel.

“Sister Eve, would you care to join your Papa for a walk?” Papa IV said through gritted teeth, he was angry, desperate to feel ownership.

“Hello Papa,” Evie said, as she stood to greet her Papa with courtesy. “I would love t-” Before she could answer, Copia gripped her arm and forced her along, leaving the dining hall at a pace that nearly made her trip.

“Copia, where are we going?” Evie stumbled along.

“It’s Papa now, pet, you know so much better than that.” He dragged the body down the halls of the Abbey.

“Wearing that dress, I bet you felt so pretty. You made quite the show at the meal, no? I’ve never seen anyone enjoy strawberries as much as you did. You almost looked as happy as when you have your pretty mouth wrapped around me.”

Evie was thoroughly blushing, but she was vindicated. She was getting exactly the Sunday she wanted. Copia peered down at the woman he was dragging along

“You won’t have that fucking grin on your face in a moment, my sweet.”

They arrived at the upper clergy suits. Evie could feel the bruises forming under his firm grip, how she would treasure them later. Papa IV opened his suit door open, pushing the young woman into his room.

With such force, Evie fell to the ground. She heard the door close and the lock click behind her. Two strong leather clad hands gripped her arms and hoisted her back to her feet.

Pressing his front into Evie, Papa IV whispered, “Oh, sweet thing. Please don’t act so scared, please.”

His hand trailed up her arms and pushed her hair out of the way of her ears. “Tesoro, what a shame. Such a beautiful dress, I’d hate to ruin it. But, I simply must have you wear it as I fuck you.”

Evie whimpered. Her body was turned to face the older man.

Copia’s hands gripped her chin, as he brought his face closer to hers. “Now, I do feel guilty taking my pet away from her breakfast.” His grip tightened. “Perhaps my whore should eat?”

Her eyes scanned his face, fearfully. In truth, his hold on her was causing pain.

His hand came to caress her cheek, wiping the tear that she didn’t know was there. “Shush, now, pet. Look at you, so scared of me. Perhaps, if you behave, I’ll give you a reward, si?”

She nodded, her body otherwise still.

“Kneel.” “Papa, my dress…”

“You better not spill a drop then, eh?”

His grip loosened. Complying, the sister knelt before her man. Now at eye level with her prize. She looked up, wide eyed at the older man. Evie knew this game. Copia loved to pretend he was corrupting an innocent, young woman; he got a thrill knowing she was so much younger than him.

She bit her lip. “Papa? Can I kiss it?”

He nodded.

She moved her hands up his muscular thighs, reaching to the ever hardening bulge in his pants. Gently palming him, she kissed the thick fabric. Copia rewarded her with a groan. Carefully, she unlaced the front of his pants, pulling down the fabric to reveal him. Her cheeks flushed at the sight.

He was well endowed. His member was now thoroughly throbbing, reddening at the tip, now leaking.

She took her time, exploring it’s length with delicate touches. She moved her face closer, applying one gentle kiss to the tip. Another kiss, slightly deeper. Her mouth moved further down, her lips ghosting over a prominent vein on the underside of his shaft.

Knees straightening, she brought her breasts to his length. Copia’s mouth fell open, a small moan escaping. “Fuck!”

Evie carefully enveloped her flesh around his length and moved slowly. Her eyes remained transfixed on his face, chasing his pleasure. She could not deny the burning she was feeling in her core.

“Your mouth, you fucking tease.” Copia now commanded. His eyes shot at her, pupils dilated.

“Yes, Papa.”

Removing herself, she settled herself back. She resumed her routine, kitten licking and kissing every inch of his length. Copia’s hand reached to her hair.

“Take it now, pet. I’m done waiting.”

Eager to now please, Evie sank onto his length. She moved slowly and shallowly at first, just as he loves. Her eyes remained steady on the older man’s face. She went further down, her tongue pressing onto the underside. She hollowed her cheeks, removing him to lavish his tip, before taking him further and deeper. Her head began to bob, now taking him in earnest. Copia’s hand remained in her hair, applying additional pressure, encouraging her to take more of him.

His speed steadily grew. Small breaths escaped his mouth, as he was in the throws of ecstasy. So too, Evie did her best to match his rhythm. Despite her efforts, one particularly deep thrust hit her soft palette, eliciting a gag. She did her best to catch her breath, but she knew that the old man liked to see her struggle keeping up with him.

Swallowing, she could feel the tears falling from her eyes. She peered at him.

Copia looked at Evie, her eyes watering, face flushed. He couldn’t control the whimper that feel from him. Using the hand anchored in her hair, he removed her from his length.

“My sweet, my pet. That's enough for now. You’ve done so beautifully.” Copia lifted her body into an embrace. Evie could still feel how painfully teased he was. He held her there for a moment, moving his hands up her back, gripping her hair and adjusting her head to pull her in for a kiss.

Her moans were stifled by the kiss, which was becoming more desperate. Copia left a trail of kisses to her ear.

“Little one, I need to hear you scream. Can you do that for me?” Evie’s knees nearly gave out from beneath her. “Now tell your Papa: who owns you?”

Evie whined.

Copia tightened the grip in her hair, pulling her back to see her.

"You need to listen, pet. And I said, who owns you?"

“Papa, you do! Papa, please!” She whined. “I’ll do anything, please, just touch me.” Evie was aching with desire, so deliciously neglected. The tears were flowing freely.

“Ah, that's right.”

With a swift motion, Copia lifted his girl over his shoulder. Even in his older age, he was deceptively strong. He carried her body over to his bed, throwing her down onto the satin sheets. Evie laid for a moment, anticipating his touch, which never came.

“Papa?” She gazed up to find him, standing in the same spot from which he threw her.

“You look pretty when you cry, tesoro.” Evie’s head tilted, she was waiting for him to make a move, to pounce on her like a wolf to a hare. “Lift your skirt, and remove your panties.”

“Oh Papa, I’m so sorry.” Evie faked sympathy. Copia’s stare sharpened. She lifted her skirt to show Papa that she had neglected undergarments for the day.

Copia groaned at her bareness. “You are wicked, pet. And who would know? Who would have known that the sweet sister could be so desperate.” Step by step, inching towards her body. Evie’s legs instinctively closed. “And who would have known she was so perverse? So needy, desperate to be owned. A perfect little fuckdoll.”

His figure towered over her.

A doe eyed stare gazed up at the man. Her breaths were shallow. “Papa...”

“Yes, dolcezza, just like that, sing for me.” Copia descended onto her legs, his hand slithering between the soft flesh of her thighs. He tapped once, ���let me make my pet feel so good.” Evie opened her legs, “Ah, so beautiful. Already dripping from just taking my cock in your mouth.”

Had Evie not wanted this very moment, she would have cringed at her need. No shame, she needed him.

Copia drew his face down to her sex, and gently kissed her clit. He dragged two fingers through her slit and withdrew them to inspect. “So wet for Papa, si?” She was thoroughly keening at the sight of her arousal.

Hearing her whimpers, Copia continued his ministrations. He made small circles around her entrance, applying a gentle pressure. His tongue continued to lavish her bud, eliciting her whines further. Here he remained for a few moments, building her pleasure.

His mouth enveloped her clit, suckling on the delicate flesh. As he did, his finger delved into her. A guttural moan escaped Evie’s lips. Copia chucked at her reaction, the vibrations from him tickling her further. Another finger joined his efforts, pushing into her velvet heat.

He developed a rhythm between his mouth and his fingers, pumping into her. She could feel him curl his fingers into the spot inside of her, her toes curling at the newly applied pressure. His leather clad hands always felt soft and luxurious.

She could feel the band inside tightening; she was getting close. Already wound up from pleasuring Copia, she knew she would not last much longer.

“Papa, I’m so, so close.” She whined, begging for him.

His face lifted from her sex. “What do you want, pet? Tell Papa.”

“Fuck me!”

Needing no further instruction, Copia stood, withdrawing his fingers from her. He freed his cock from his trousers, still aching from Evie’s ministrations. With one thrust, he entered her. Her screams filled the room.

“Yes, pet, you feel so good.” Copia growled. He paused for her to adjust to his size; he looked down at the woman underneath him. She was writhing, her body begging him to move. “So fucking good for Papa.”

He thrust into her with veracity; Evie gripped the sheets to brace herself. It was almost too much. Her breath barely kept up with his movements. She clenched her walls around him, the band so close to snapping.

Copia brought his hand to her clit, stroking in time with his thrusts.

She felt the pressure grow to it’s highest peak, the heat at a bursting point. “I’m there, Papa, please let me cum, please.” She was unaware of the words she was saying, just desperate to get to her goal.

“No.” Copia said through gritted teeth, his eyes boring down into hers. “Wait.”

Evie huffed. Her head was thrown back, in concentration of holding on. She closed her eyes tight, focused on her breathing. She couldn’t help the moans that fell from her mouth, as Papa relentlessly fucked her.

“Papa, please, I can’t hold on anymore, please.” Her tears were falling once more.

“Show me who you belong to, scream, Evie, scream for Papa.”

“Papa!” as she screamed, she could feel the band break. Her muscles contracted, rocking her body. The white heat flowed through her veins, enrapturing her in the waves of bliss. Her walls bearing down on Copia, he soon followed. His eyes, transfixed on the woman below him, lost in ecstasy.

Evie felt his length twitch in her stomach, a warm release spurting into her. Copia held her hips to steady himself through his orgasm. His finger - still flying on her nub.

She was fighting off the overstimulation, her body growing tired and painful at the overuse. Copia ceased his movements. As her breaths slowed, Copia removed himself from her.

He stepped back, as to remark on the scene he created. His gloved hand returned to her entrance, now leaking with his spend; Copia shoved the dripping fluids back into her. Evie was slowly coming down to Earth.

“Wouldn’t want to get any on your dress, heh?”

“Copia…” Her eyes rolled at his lewd actions. Evie laughed as she broke her character.

“Amore, allow me a moment.” Copia departed to his bathroom, arriving back with a dampened washcloth. He gingerly wiped her legs - so gently, as if tending to wounds. While Copia loved the intense moments of his lust, he adored taking care of his lover when they finished chasing their pleasures. His sweet, his Evie. Once satisfied with his cleaning, Copia joined Evie lying on his bed. He turned her head and pulled her close for a kiss.

“Thank you, Copia.”

“Ah, dolce, it is my pleasure. After all, you said you wanted to get railed in a sundress, si? It is the season.” He smirked at her. “Perhaps we will buy you a replacement dress, I might have gotten too… eh, excited about this one. And we should get you one in blue, to match me, then everyone knows who you belong to,?”

Evie smacked his arm, as Copia wiggled his eyebrows at the suggestion.

She wasn’t opposed to showing everyone who she belonged to.

[seetangus]

Flowers - Azula x reader - Part IV

Part I, Part II, Part III, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, [main masterlist]

Azula x reader, requested by 🌹-anon, warnings: arranged marriage, jealousy(?)

946 words, please tell me about any mistakes if there are any. Have fun :)

You put everything in that letter. While the words you used were utilised in a way in which a stranger wouldn't suspect they were meant to be anything else than a farewell letter, you put every emotion you felt into them, and you hoped Azula would understand. Ironically, you, on the other hand, could still not understand why you, even after all that had happened, still had feelings for her - but that would not matter anymore after you had moved away and married that stranger your parents had chosen for you.

That is also why you sealed your letter right after the ink had dried - everything you had written had felt appropriate while writing it, and you did not intend on distorting the emotions you had expressed in your letter, even if that meant that there could be a few things considered unfitting for a letter to royalty left in the text, as your writing style had been quite personal. It would be nothing of your business anyways, as you would be long gone by the time your letter was delivered.

However, you did not intend to hand the letter over without something that would, once again, show Azula just how much she meant to you - an Origami flower, made with love. So much love, that it might as well be more valuable than the Panda lily, at least to you it seemed like an immeasurable treasure.

It was pitiable, really.

An Origami flower for the one who had burned your Panda Lily and your heart - you felt miserable about how blind your love was. Even in this situation, you still put so much effort into things you gifted her. You really seemed to believe that you could achieve something by doing that, that you could reach Azula's heart.

You probably should stop caring so much about that whole situation of yours, as your twisted emotions would not make your future married life easier.

You sighed as you picked up the letter and your new flower, starting to make your way to Azula's Chambers. On the way you blocked any spontaneous thoughts on how to escape your suitor, or if Azula could still gain feelings for you, and tried to solely focus on your target that you were rapidly advancing to.

The guard was easily convinced to let you in for a moment, as you were quite well-known around the palace due to your "good" relations with Azula, Mai, and Ty Lee, but still your knees were a bit shaky as you feared that the guard could see the little gifts you were carrying.

Inside her chambers, you placed the letter along with the Origami flower on a table that stood roughly in the middle of the room, arranging everything in a way that would attract Azula's gaze when she entered the room.

You made your way out of her chambers without taking one look back, nodding to the guard at the door and swiftly walking back to your room. As your duty here had ended a few weeks ago and you would, to put it lightly, just be sitting around if you stayed here, it was now time to pack your things to return to your parents. And your suitor, your future partner in life.

You had decided that a more silent departure would be the best way for you to get out of here. After saying goodbye to Mai and Ty Lee and doing the official paperwork to release you from the service of the throne, you began your journey to your new, planned life.

- Azula Pov -

Azula stared at the letter on her table. Your letter. Her gaze wandered to the beautiful Origami flower next to it and back to the letter.

She grabbed the letter and ripped the envelope open in a single, fast movement, simply throwing the envelope over her shoulder whilst already beginning to read the letter; her features hardening with every new word she read. The closer she came to the end, the more rage flared up inside of her.

How could your parents dare to marry you off to some stranger, who was clearly not even close to being appropriate for you? And who was clearly inferior to herself, Azula? Not that that comparison would be of any importance; she simply thought that you were m u c h better off in a friendship with her than in a marriage with that person, whoever they might be.

She didn't know why, but that feeling of you being taken away from her by those rude persons made her feel powerless - a feeling she had almost never felt before and one she did not like. That was why she decided she would not let that feeling linger in her heart any longer and that she would follow you to put an end to these truly disgraceful happenings.

She had lost many persons before in her life, but a potential loss of you hit her with an unexpected hardness. Before, she never had such a good friend as you. F r i e n d. Was it normal to care for a friend this much? Was it normal for her to really care about anyone at all? So many questions she could not answer and that therefore infuriated her. She would think about all of that when she had brought you back to where you belonged. 

Only minutes passed until she was ready for departure - everything she needed for a trip of this kind she had packed, your Origami flower placed carefully in a place where it would be safe. She was determined not to return without you by her side.

[quodekash]

im back.

hell yeah flute man

pls my dads are so sweet, i cant deal

IVE CONTINUED FOR THREE MINUTES AND IM ALREADY ABOUT TO CRY AGAIN, WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME

THE WAY THE BLANKET IS RUFFLED AT HIS NECK MAKES HIM LOOK LIKE A GRANNY OR SMTH I CANT STOP LAUGHING

IM CRYING

IM LAUGHING SO HARD IM CRYING

DID THEY REALLY JUST

OMG

IS HE STUMBLING BECAUSE THE GROUND THEY SLEPT ON IS HARD OR IS HE STUMBLING BECAUSE THEY GOT HARD

i guess what im trying to say is DID THEY REALLY JUST FU

YOU GUMNUTS YOU LOST THE KID

OF COURSE YOU FREAKING LOST THE KID

THE ONE TIME I GET EMOTIONALLY ATTACHED TO A CHILD, IT GETS LOST

THIS HAPPENED WITH JIGSAW AS WELL

what is it with our skyy 2 and introducing me to small children that i get emotionally attached to anD THEN RIPPING THEM AWAY FROM ME

he'll be fine tho, im sure of it. he knows what hes doing. and even if he doesnt, he's got two dads and two uncles to look after him, theyll find him and rescue him in the most overly dramatic way possible

my bet tho: he's just gone back to the village and he's completely safe and yod's trying to radio them to let them know hes safe but their radio isnt working, so he's gonna go into the forest to look for them while the four dudes wander around the forest to find the kid, and then theyll all run into each other and be like "welp we panicked for nothing" and then go back to the village and then theyll kiss their boyfriends and longtae will appear with his 184cm tall boyfriend and theyll all party and celebrate

(that last part is a mere wish, i know my boy doesnt show up at all and im sad about it)

OHHHH I FORGOT ABOUT THAT

its totally fine then, theyll find him and he'll be safe and sound

oh look at that, they did a custody switch

i think the real thing we should be saying here is: it's already evening and your legs are STILL hurting?

YOU GUMNUTS, DONT GO LOOKING AS WELL

THEYRE GONNA FIND THE KID AND COME BACK AND FIND YOU GUYS MISSING

AND THE CYCLE WILL NEVER END

HOLY FREAKING HELL YOU IDIOTS

bro is just chilling

i love this kid so much

he's saying this terrifying thing about how a wild animal nearly killed him so he climbed a tree and got stuck in it all night, and he's just so chill about it

i just love him so much

well how the hell are you gonna communicate that with your boyfriends

REMINDER: PRAN AND TIAN HAVE NOW SPENT THREE DAYS IN THIS FOREST

WHAT THE HELL ARE THE VILLAGERS THINKING??

THEY DONT HAVE THEIR HEAD CHIEF FOREST GUY BECAUSE HES BEEN IN THIS FOREST FOR TWO DAYS

also: surely patpran are getting close to their one week quota, right? they had one week to get the thing signed, ive forgotten how long they were already there for, but theyve been in a forest for three days so like idk man

YOU GUMNUTS

SURELY YOU KNOW YOUR BOYFRIENDS WELL ENOUGH TO KNOW THEYRE IDIOTS WHO WILL TRY TO COME FIND YOU WHEN YOU DONT COME BACK

they all probably smell. theyve been wearing those clothes for days in a forest

and pat probably still thinks he can find pran based on his scent, bless his silly idiotic heart

TIAN HASNT HAD HIS FREAKING HEART MEDICATION IN FREAKING DAYS

THE MAN'S GONNA DIE

P'AUUUUU

LMAOOOOOO CALLED OUTTTT

omg bonding

"why do i feel like you're just insecure and not sure if you're good enough to tell anyone that story?" awh

"you know nothing" "why wouldnt i know? i know how it feels to be insecure, unsure if im good enough" wait hang on

NO

HONEYBUN

NO WAY

HONEY YOU'VE BOTH MADE SO MANY SACRIFICES FOR EACH OTHER TO GET TO WHERE YOU ARE TODAY

i wanna hug him so bad

FREAKING FINALLY

MAN NEEDS HIS MEDICATION

ID RATHER MY DAD DIDNT DIE TODAY

GJWEKBRSVD

THATS IT

IM DONE

I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE

IM NOT EVEN SLIGHTLY OKAY RIGHT NOW

ITS THE WATCH

i know he has it just because pran dropped it in the forest and pat picked it up, but its still the same watch that pat picked up for pran when they were children, all those freaking years ago

i just think its a lovely parallel

i love them so much

hsdshgjsdhjgsd

SEE?? you help each other out, you both sacrifice for one another, YOU ARE IN LOVE AND YOU MIGHT NOT BE PERFECT BUT YOU'RE THE DAMN BEST AND GVERYJDHFGB

BITCHES BE CRYING RN

ITS ME

IM BITCHES

SOBBING MY EYES OUT

COMFORTING DAD PATS (pats like the action of patting, not multiple of the character whose shoulder is being patted. words are hard)

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH

HSDFHSDFHSDHG

THEY MEAN PROBABLY TOO MUCH TO ME

ALSO PRAN DEFINITELY SMELLS WORSE THAN PAT FOR ONCE, HE HASNT SHOWERED IN DAYS

ANYWAY, HUGS

I LOVE HUGS SO MUCH

SAME

HE IS ME

I LOVE YOD SO MUCH

shoot i ran out of images

just fyi: it took over two hours for me to get from halfway through 2/4 to halfway through 4/4. and i still have a whole episode left go to. this may take like a week to finish

[leynaeithnea]

Who am I to deny you the joy of listing all your favorite lines from the musical? Bestie go nuts bc now I really want to know your favorite lines ( if you want to add the reason why they make you insane I will not be complaining) ( but like , a keysmash for each line is good too )

OKAY so

Ill go through it song by song I guess because thats the easiest way

1. Horse and the Infant

GREAT opening song; amazing; so good, from the set up, references, singing, sound design, music everything

My favorite part in it is when Odysseus tries to bargain with Zeus for Astyanax (totally didnt have to look up the name again) because musically??? And story wise??? Im on phone rn so maybe if we do these types of interactions more often i can go moee into deepth at some other point but for rn ill keep it semi short BUT ITS SO PERFECT (mortius and caspers reactions tend to break down things really well so bascially what they say, most of the time)

2. Just A Man

Tears, i loveeeeeeee Jorges falcetto voice, the desperation when he sings "whos fighting for his life" and then the drop that goes into "but when [...]" etc, it kind of reminds me a bit of the shift of pace in "Wait for It" in Hamilton? Which is def one of my favorite songs in that musical

As well as whe musical design of the men picking up the chorus when Odysseus steps closer to the wall and all eyes are on him and the question of when does a man become a monster, when does the reason become the blame gets echoed...

3. Full Speed Ahead

UNDERRATED SONG

I absolutely loveeeeee the theme of "We're up,we're off and away we go" followed by "full speed aheeeead" ANd agaiIN JORGES VOICE WHEN IN THAT omg its so gooooooddddddddd, also, ody being stern when he talks with eudy and then lighting up the second Polites approaches him, one of my favorite songs

4. Open Arms

We need more Polites.

When i first listened to it the first times I thought Polites was already high on Lotus....well

Also odys "im fine polites" -> huge liar

Does it show that I have a thing for Ody? He is the perfect kind of angsty character that I loveeeeee so deeply, Jorges voice acting in "STAY BACK", and Polites being completly unbothered fjsidksks also lotus winions!!!

A cave!

East; that way

5. Warrior of the Mind

personally actually one of my less favorite songs for some reasons? Probably bc its not angsty enough in this case, but i really love athenas voice in the new remastered versions even more than before. "Hahahahaha" is amazing tho, also I FEEL ROBBED in the new versions you cant confuse "Enlighten me" with "you lied to me" anymore ~yes i totally was convinced its "you lied to me" for weeks~

....this is really long that was only the troy saga oh well

6. Polyphemus

"Theres been a misunderstanding" line; the vocals in that, so good, as well as the threadenung drum sounds and all

Also great sound scape and everything

The "WATCH OUT"

7. Survive

Oh my

I CAN PICK UP THE DANGER MOTIF THERE im so happy that im getting better at this, ive been tone deaf all through high and middle school and it makes me so haopy to actually get better at this now

When the crew joins in with "sixhundred lives at stake" etc its sooo good, I loheee the choir/ensemble parts so much, in this musical and generally THE DELIVERY OF "push foooooooOOORward" omg

...also...rip to pancake boy...i love how w can see/feel in the musical how in shock Odysseus is until Polyphemus passes out

8. Remeber Them

ALSO UNDERRATED probably the only song where i rllyyy prefer the first version and dont like the remastered one as much because i love how it goes from shock and grief to slowly arising anger and determination while still hearing the hurt in his voice, in the new version we go straight into anger, which is fineeee but I always loved the way I imagined it before that

I loveee the chorus lyrics too

And then WHEN ODYS ANGER AND PRIDE AND GRIEF TAKES OVER AND HE DOXXES HIMSELF TO POLYPHEMUS, the delivery of these lines ----- love it so much

9. My Goodbye

Grown to love it even more lately, just because again, i think this is a trend but I love it when Ody is just kind of...suffering x)

The "Hey" is such good voice acting in that moment, its so good, just Ody being hurt and griefing and Athena bring frustrated with human reactions and man such a greattt song

10. Storm

"We're going to shoot for the sky" "What?"

...thats all I have to say for this one

11. Luvk runs out

...all the themes this sets up for thunder saga oml....

also, ody pretending to be fine and confident and all and the second hes alone with eury his fascade drops...he must be so angry that Eury called him out in public haha...ha...

Okay so, my hands are dying from typing but I totally want to finish this for the rest of the series, if you also want the second part of this please send me another ask so I can reply to it! 🙈

Good night for now :3

[whump-captain]

it's been like 10 years since i posted any writing and this isn't even whump lol. but ive been rotating Joy in my head for weeks now and had to give her something to do. this is part of Fruit of the Glass Tree, so the earliest story with these guys

---

CN: animal death (not shown but bodies described in detail), descriptions of animal waste, mentions of death and injury, fear.

---

On the fifth floor, Joy finally finds some walls.

The rest of what she's seen of the building has been stripped of the dignity of an interior. Only lines of chipped plaster have remained on the floors of the previous levels, outlining where the rooms were before the whole tower has fallen into disrepair.

What greets her behind the creaking door of the stairway is a broad, L-shaped corridor, angling left after three pairs of evenly spaced doors. The walls themselves look as bare and fragile as all the others, with rectangular white patches left in the wake of ripped off wallpaper and a single, shallow inset guarded by the fangs of snapped hinges. The windows are no longer exposed. It barely takes two steps for the scant moonlight from the stairway to lag behind Joy, leaving her in cold, powdery darkness.

She clicks the torch on. There's nothing to cast shadows and all that the light manages to bring out is the horrid brownish shade that the carpet has turned over the years. The doors are all missing their handles.

Joy pushes the closest one and finds it locked. Relief blooms in her chest but then the varnished plywood creaks and she starts. Her heart picks up the pace. Something compels her to turn around, like a hand on her shoulder, pulling. The beam of her torch again finds nothing. No movement, no silhouette. One of the doors is slightly ajar, revealing a thin wedge of absolute darkness. Something else creaks somewhere.

She's on edge. She ignores the open door and tries the next one. The lock gives with a click and her arm shakes as she swipes it down in front of her before stepping in. The room is as empty as every other part of the building. The window lets in enough light to catch the dust floating in the air and Joy fights the urge to fix her facemask. She's checked it thoroughly, no need to fiddle. Her fingers pick at the hem of her jacket.

She rests her hand on the radio clipped to her belt. She wants a human voice to dispel this unsteady, oppressive silence. But she also wants her ears open for when the next sound is not innocuous.

She leaves the empty room. If she does radio Cutter, he'll probably just go on about ghosts again and that's the last thing her fraying nerves need. Another door turns out closed and this one leaves behind a residue of something tacky on her glove. A bare metal bolt sticks out of where the handle used to be.

Another empty room, gutted but for a concrete column in the middle. Another creak somewhere, a dry rattle of debris. There's a crack across the wall, exposing lines of rebar like tendons. A stench of rot hangs in the air and Joy's stomach turns when her boot swipes across a rough surface. Dry patches of hardened bird excrement stain the carpet in disgusting off-white.

She leaves the door open and the smell follows her. It grows stronger as she crosses the corridor and more white blotches make the floor look like moulding bread. It feels the same underfoot.

Joy looks up at the ceiling. It's flat and the paint has long since peeled. When she stomps the floor to check it, the air remains still.

When she opens the next door, she almost retches. The backdraft of the stench sends her staggering back and coughing. Torchlight flits frantically across bare walls. Joy pulls her scarf over her face, ignoring the shift of her facemask, and blinks to clear away tears.

This room does have furniture in it - low-backed chairs, desks, half-collapsed filing cabinets with no shelves. They’re barely recognizable, their outlines blurred by inch-thick, lumpy layers of excrement, streaking in grey rivulets down every flat surface. The carpet looks like it's corroded. Everything is congealed into a horrid, nauseating monochrome.

Joy slams the door shut, face hidden in the crook of her elbow. It barely helps. The whole corridor now reeks more than anything she’s ever smelled and she doubles back to the first room. The cracked window lets in blissfully fresh air and she stands there for a long moment, waiting for the smell to stop clinging to her skin.

Her breathing, muffled by the facemask’s filter, sounds like howling wind in her ears. Everything else is deadly still, not even an echo of her footsteps remaining of the commotion she’s made. Not on this floor, not on any others.

A part of her is grateful for it. No sound, no movement - no danger. No other life here besides her.

The empty room feels like a bare ribcage, picked clean by scavengers and maggots. The silence sticks to her more than the stench did. She grabs her radio.

"Cutter, come in,” she whispers into the microphone.

No echo again. For a moment, there is no sound but her heartbeat. It almost deafens her at the thought that she might not get an answer.

But then static cracks and a cheerful voice comes through:

"Home base receiving."

Joy breathes out. She pushes away the scenario that her mind has already half-knitted: silence, tension, a long way back, and a corpse under the rubble. But she's okay. She’s not alone in this wretched building just yet.

“Any news?” Cutter asks through the radio as if they’re discussing the weather.

"I found pigeon poop. Whole room of it.”

There’s a short pause. "That's disgusting."

"Yeah.” She doesn’t even consider laughing. Her mind adds up the sights, the sounds, and everything else she has seen on this floor. The equation doesn't resolve. “But where are the pigeons?"

The static dies out. The stillness stretches. Joy feels the facemask stick to her cheeks and the dust to her hair. Despite all the noise she’s caused, not a single pair of wings has fluttered anywhere in the building. No other life.

“I haven’t seen any,” Cutter says.

“Me neither. Nothing flying, nothing- scared away.” She looks at the window, straining to see into the night through the dirt and graffiti stains. “I’d hear them by now.” She can’t keep the shake out of her voice. “Or they’d hear me.”

Cutter laughs and it comes through the radio as a clipped buzzing sound. “I definitely heard you. Do you have something against that floor, with the way you’re stomping on it? I thought it was gonna give out.”

The sudden joke gives Joy whiplash but she defends herself: “It’s called safe movement. It’s so that when it does give out, I am not standing on it.”

“Ouch, too soon.”

She closes her mouth, realising. “I didn’t-” she stutters, then sighs in defeat. “I don’t mean-”

“I know, I know. Just kidding.” Cutter laughs again. Then he asks: “Are you okay up there?”

Joy takes her thumb off of the push-to-talk button. There’s still some apparitional hand tugging her shoulder, bidding her to turn around. The corners of the room, coveting their shadows like veils, whisper threats. There could be anything in the darkness. Or there could be more stale, suffocating, plasterboard nothing.

“I’m fine,” she says to the radio. “I’m gonna search the rest of the floor. Going quiet.”

“Copy that, over and out.”

She lets herself breathe the clear air a little while longer, as if trying to commit it to memory. The corridor looks less imposing the second time she faces it; one more door is closed, another leads to one more empty room. She holds her breath stepping over the bird waste but her eyes still water at the smell. With her shoulder to the wall, she sweeps her torchlight around the corner. There are two more doors, larger this time, and chips of brick mix with old dust on the floor between them.

Ahead, the hallway opens up into a chamber. Windowless dark sticks to the heavy forms of two square columns on either side, visible past the wide entrance which is missing a two-winged door. Stiff sheets of plasterboard overlap into a choppy surface on the floor and bare concrete shows on the walls that they’ve been ripped from. An empty picture frame leans against the wall - the first item Joy has found in the building. The metallic plating has come off of its corners and the glass is shattered into a spiderweb pattern.

There are more off-white stains there, less visible on the white debris and more spaced out. Joy grimaces. She stomps the floor and something snaps under her boot. Though she flinches back, nothing collapses. It will be difficult to tell the state of the floor when it's covered like this.

The light of her torch infects the walls with a sickly blue tint. The flakes of paint and crumbling bricks give the shadows peaks and valleys to play in and their skittering movement follows Joy’s as she drags the light up and down the right side, floor to ceiling. It doesn't reach all the way but it's clear there are no more doors; no way through.

On the left, the light refracts into glittering lines. Another picture frame lies abandoned among the mess. Its long shadow stretches forward to the far wall and just before it, it meets a row of columns. They're thin, unevenly spaced, and as they climb, they grow even thinner. Then they spit the light out behind them in a rain of dancing colours.

They're solid glass, smooth and bulging like knotted bark. There are swirls of cloudy pink dulling them from the inside; faint here, completely opaque elsewhere. On the tip of each of them, like the jewel on a sceptre, hangs an exquisite glass sculpture of a bird.

Joy steps forward and glitter light showers her, reflected from the outstretched, frozen wings; from the pinhead domes of eyes. The sculptures are half-opaque too, muddled with dark patches under the iridescent surface.

They split into colours as she approaches and she recognizes red; then black, then grey. Then white, in curved streaks of exposed, splintered ribs. Then more red, cloudy and swirling all the way down the glass spikes from the skewered corpses of pigeons, encased in translucent prisons.

Joy covers her mouth. Her stomach twists and her knees wobble. Her body refuses to move. She can't pull her eyes away from the decomposing birds and she feels them etch into her memory, burning like sunlight. One of the pigeons stares back with its single remaining eye, distorted by the curve of the bare socket it's leaking out of. There are still feathers sticking out of one of its wings; the other is a dark crimson pulp of half-melted muscle and blood seeping out into the glass.

When Joy's legs finally move, they carry her mercilessly forward. Her hand leads, pulled by the rein of dancing reflections. The glass is warm to the touch, even through her gloves. With a quiet scrape the bird tips back and snaps away from its stalk.

It shatters like a bottle of wine and red liquid explodes onto the floor. Joy shouts and jerks back. She almost loses balance, clutching her hand to her chest as if she's been burned. A single red drop stains the tip of her boot and she can feel it through the fabric like shrapnel. Her mind doesn't even register the stench of decay; nor the grinding sound that comes from the broken statue. Everything drowns in the single tone of terror that fills her ears as she watches the glass spike twitch and then grow in a nauseating, slithering motion. It climbs the inches it has lost with the bird's body and then falls still again.

The silence locks around her. The dead birds demand she stops breathing as well, they steal the oxygen out of the room. She yanks the radio off of her belt, grips it with both hands and chokes out:

"I found the birds." Her fingers slip, she has to press the button again. A horrible buzz from the speaker drowns out her words: "They're all dead."

The radio drops and hangs on the cord attaching it to her belt loop. She squeezes her eyes shut and tries to breathe. The buzz means two people have sent at once. Joy uses the moment of wait to force herself to stop shaking.

"Repeat that?" Cutter says on a click of static.

"The birds." Some of her control returns but now she can't find the words. Her gaze keeps dragging back up from the radio's blinking light. "Bodies," she manages. "I'll- I'll show you. I'm coming back."

There's a moment of silence and then, "Okay." Joy senses he wants to say more and is grateful that he doesn't.

Eyes still down, she retrieves her pocket camera. The lens extends with a laboured whirr and the display greets her with a half-full battery icon. Relief pours over her and melts some of the ice in her stomach. Whatever anomaly has drained her phone is slower to claim the old-fashioned double-As, it seems. The dim glow of the familiar screen is like a lighthouse in a storm.

She trains her eyes on it as she takes several photos of the pigeons; the ones suspended and the one splattered on the floor. As if seeing them through layers of lenses and pixels could disconnect her from the sight. She gets the close-ups with digital zoom. The macabre display's horrible beauty invites her closer. She squeezes the camera's button so hard, the shutter clicks three times in a row.

She backs away to the corridor; it's out of the question to turn her back on the bodies. Only when they disappear into the dark does she dare to turn around. The hallway looks foreign, the empty walls seem to gain a new, alien shade of white. The floor creaks. Joy sweeps her foot in an arc in front of her, shifting the dust. Then she stomps. Then she swipes her hand down through the air.

Nothing collapses, no hanging wires get caught on her glove. She knows that already. She’s checked the hallway, checked every inch of the floor. But the ritual of safety grounds her, brings her mind back into focus. Sweep, stomp, swipe; it’s a rhythm. A clear, simple action she can take to protect herself. From some things, at least.

She reaches the stairway in a trance. Sweep, stomp, swipe. Over and over, taking up all her thoughts. Right until the radio cracks and Cutter’s voice comes through:

"Are you doing your safe movements now?"

"Yeah,” she says. She opens the door, checks across the doorstep. Then she stops. “Why?"

"Just worrying you'll bring more of the building down on me,” he answers.

But she doesn’t miss the tiny pause, the barely audible false note in his light tone.

"Why are you asking?"

There’s silence. It stretches into an eternity in which the blurred moonlight outside the window seems to take a cloudy pink hue.

"I think I heard something else walking."

[moonjxsung]

HELLAUR POOKIE I MISSED YOU RAHHHH it has been a serious hot minute since ive been back here hello everyone hello star hello every single 85 anons (woah thats a lot) RAHHH first of all i reread all of your anon asks and your personal updates on your blog and im really upset to hear that youre taking down all of your small drabbles and requests (rip my favorite minho biker story <//3) but honestly i totally do understand where you stand on this and i respect your opinion im just glad youre still here and staying with us !!! (im chaining up your ankles and keeping you here forever who's in who's basement now huh !! yeah thats what i thought !!! [we have conjoined basements])

I MISSED YOU STAR RAHHH i was going through yet another week of "oh shit i think my mental health is depleting but im going to pretend that its not at a critical level right now and immerse myself in studies and hope it goes away" but in fact it did not go away and i dont know how i feel right not BUT ITS OKAY because im rewatching komi cant communicate and i made my 84th spotify playlist on my fifth spotify account and i used to use 4 spotify accounts during 2022-2023 so this is probably like my 600th smth playlist but yk!!! (i made a total of like 30+ this year so far im goign crazy star help me)

speaking of i shoudl send you my new playlist on discord ALSO i saw you and an anon talking about 505 RAHHHHH ARCTIC MONKEYS <333333 i used to be a huge arctic monkeys fan but now im getting back into them i literally have a 505 phase RIGHT NOW ive been listenign to it on loop !!! idk why im so energetic right now rahh i missed you lots oh yeah also !!! my $50 temu package arrived and i like freaked out about it for like a solid 15 minutes then proceeded to lose my ring and brand new keychain in like the next 2 hours (im so upset) its okay though cs they were like 50 cents each i can rebuy it !!! (im still upset) star im not kidding im serious when i say ive spent over 90 bucks on temu during hte past like 3-4 months please help me star im going insane my friends keep saying that im such a loyal temu customer that atp the company is going to start recruiting me to be one of their asian workers in china and ill be enslaved earning two pennies a day for the rest of my life

did you knwo peppermint candy is good

~《☘️》

HIIIIIIIII POOOOKIEEEEE RAHHHHHH I MISSED YOU SO MUCH HOW ARE YOU HOW’S IT GOINGNTHTJFJDKDKDJ I will gladly remain shackled to the confines that are tumblr. I love it here (mostly) I LOVE YOU GUYS SO MUCH RAHHH‼️‼️‼️‼️

I’m SOOOO sad about my shorter drabbles (biker!minho story was literally my fav one by FAR oh my god) but hopefully they can pick up again in the future 💔💔 fuck you wattpad thieves. We all booed !

ANYWAYS I MISSED YOU TOOOO I was also having a shitty mental health week and I’ve just been insanely busy like I haven’t had a single second this week to just sit down and take a fucking breather!!!! But we made it to the weekend and I’m alive RAHHHH star lives to see another weekend of interacting w her beloved anons and consuming kpop content 💯💯 I hope you’re doing better though my sweet angel!!!! April has been so shitty but I know we’re gonna make it out of it alive somehow 🫶 ALSO YES SEND ME ALL THE SPOTIFY PLAYLISTS I NEED SO MUCH NEW MUSIC TO LISTEN TO ‼️‼️ I’ve been listening to the arctic monkeys nonstop again bc I was talking about them on here I LOVEEEE HOW WE’RE BOTH BACK IN 505 PHASE SOOOO REAL

PLELWKAKSLDKSKEKDKR RHE TEMU PART 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 CRYINGNTJTNGNFMEMEJ THAT’S me at the fucking kpop store near my HOUSEEEMEKEKE I SPENT $200 THERE TODAY AND IM GOING BQDK TOMORROW BC THEY GOT THE NEW JHOPE KEYCHAINS AND BEANIES IN STOCK I NEED RHEM SOOOO BAD. YOU AND ME RETAIL THERAPY TOGETHER ERA WHEN 😍😍😍😍🫶

Also peppermint candy is good but not as good as you I love you so much RAHHHHH I MISSED YOU SO BADDDJEKSKSKSKS