1 - 20 of 32 Works by wintrybell
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"So we did it? We're in the past?"
"It appears so. Your power brought us through time, and my Hogyoku has anchored my consciousness to my younger body. Though I can't ascertain how long we've drifted in the Dangai."
Ichigo turned in his arms, long orange strands of her hair dragging over her face. Wordlessly, Aizen pushed it out and tucked it behind her ear, allowing Ichigo to finally see his face.
Aizen looked so young. The sharp, severe edges of Aizen's face had waned into something softer. Even the brown curls of his hair looked fluffier and more vibrant. His eyes were the same as she remembered though: brown and devoid of shine.
"Look." Aizen turned them upwards, a smile teasing at the edge of his lips. "The sky. It's the shade of your hair."
Ichigo and Sousuke are the only survivors of the Old World. In order to bring everyone back, Ichigo makes the choice to sacrifice her own happiness and spend her life as Sousuke's wife in the New World they created, ridden of war and prophecy. Who knows, maybe she'll find some happiness in such a world.
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It happened without forewarning nor inordinateness. When the door to his cell opened, only one person stepped inside.
“Sorry for the intrusion,” a low, soothing voice reached him. Aizen had never heard that tone before, not with that familiar voice.
He looked down at the man before him. Orange hair, the hilt of a zanpakutou peeking over one shoulder, white coattails fanning around his feet as he stepped further inside. Even the face was the same as the one in his memory.
"Believe it or not, I've never been here before. I promised myself I'd only come here once, and that would be the time you finished your sentence."
Ichigo Kurosaki did not look a day over seventeen.
Twenty thousand years change many things—just not Ichigo Kurosaki.
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"Call me Daddy. Right now."
You have got to be kidding me. All the heat in his face had wrung his tongue dry and left it stuck on the roof of his mouth.
"You came along with those children over there, correct?" Aizen motioned to the table where Mizuiro's friends were seated, playing cards and laughing together. "I'll kill them if you don't."
"Don't..." Ichigo protested. Tears welled up in his eyes. "Daddy."
He nearly gagged at how Aizen visibly reacted at that. It was about control. Everything was about control with Aizen. Still, Ichigo's mind took him to dangerous places.
Ichigo would never go to a party for sugar babies if Mizuiro didn't ask for his protection. It just didn't seem like a big deal at the time. How was he supposed to know Aizen of all people would be there?
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Remember Me When The Rain Gathers by oleander (wintrybell)
Fandoms: Horrid Henry (Cartoon)
11 Mar 2026
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"I still didn't get your name."
The other boy shook his head as if shaking off the last remains of laughter. "Henry."
The name struck a chord, though Ralph didn’t dwell on that too much.
“Henry."
“Yes?”
“Will you go out with me?”
Rude Ralph and Horrid Henry, a decade later, a meeting by coincidence.
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An ugly feeling festered in Aizen’s chest as he watched the boy glow like sunlight. If the Royal Guards hadn’t already staked their claim on his body, no doubt Ichigo would find a suitor in the human world. He had blossomed splendidly; his greatest creation, his Ichigo, now a handsome man.
Aizen did not like the thought of somebody else touching him like this.
After their fight against Yhwach, Aizen finally gets a moment alone with Ichigo Kurosaki.
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“Ichigo.” Aizen called, a shadow crossing his face. “Did you understand what I just said? All of your friends are dead. You’re the sole survivor.”
“I… They… They can’t be…”
It's all his fault, his fault, his fault.
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His hand came down on his stomach. Even if there was still time to turn back, he had already made his decision.
“I’m sorry it has to be this way,” he whispered. The wind fanned the tall flames, flakes of ash drifting in their orange light. He followed them with his gaze. “You deserved to be born in a nicer place, surrounded by warmth and people that love you very much.”
He looked up at the stars above. He could feel the temperature emanating from his eyes swiftly increase as his vision started to swim. He sniffed and the tears began to fall.
“I don’t even know who your father is!”
When Harbinger Tartaglia finds out he's pregnant, he's faced with a choice: abort the child or face the scrutiny of his superiors and family. He chooses the third option.
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III finds a compromising video from Vessel’s past.
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Jaws by irideae (wintrybell)
Fandoms: 종이의 집: 공동경제구역 | Money Heist: Korea – Joint Economic Area (TV)
28 Feb 2025
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Joseph didn’t know if he’d rather be with the hostages or stuck in a room alone with Berlin.
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“Don’t act like you don’t know.”
“I don’t know, Captain,” he shouted, already hating where this was headed. Everyone else that had approached him before had just 'assumed'. The boy from a humble fishing village? Making the climb to the top in just a matter of a year? Surely he must have slept around, just look at that face! Too pretty. Too young. "I just wanted to spar with you, nothing more. I'm not... I've never—"
He stopped himself when he noticed his voice had risen. Head dropping, he muttered an apology.
“It's the Abyss,” Capitano explained. “It has drawn us to each other.”
Capitano arrives in Zapolyarny Palace and his presence triggers Tartaglia’s heat.
Written for capitaru week day 1: first meetings / abyss / mating cycles
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Whenever Vessel misses the past, Sleep intervines and snuffs out his old memories. But perhaps the right solution isn't to take, but to give instead:
A new purpose — and a new change to Vessel's body.
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The violin's song lowered to a deep tone, and their movements became languid. Tartaglia could feel Capitano’s controlled breaths through the places where their bodies touched. They were coiled around each other like snakes trapped in a fight; Capitano’s palm pressed to the width of the small of Tartaglia’s back, Tartaglia’s ankle propped against the back of Capitano’s thigh.
Capitano dipped him, and the music stopped, indicating the end of their dance.
Tartaglia was panting, his breath white. Capitano pulled him back up. Stars donned the night sky. The sky and the palace shimmered behind Capitano. His helmet shimmered too.
Tartaglia pushed himself on the tips of his feet to kiss it.
After years without seeing each other, Tartaglia reunites with Capitano, now a man.
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A black car was parked below him, its position lights on. Ajax saw a figure clad in black step out of the driver’s side, and he frowned. Tall and distinctly masculine. Ajax had never seen someone like that in this neighborhood. It could be someone just passing by, but in this rain? It could also be someone just visiting one of the tenants.
The truth came to him when the man turned, his hooded face tilting up—
Ajax pushed away from the window, heartbeat kicking into a gallop.
“He’s gone after young gingers like yourself.”
A killer is on the loose. Ajax is his next victim.
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Tartaglia was in good morale. The Captain was someone he had idiolized since his childhood, and now he finally had the opportunity to accompany him in what would be their most important mission so far: retrieve the Pyro Gnosis and complete the first major step of their Tsaritsa's Grand Plan.
They would only realize too late what a disastrous arrangement that was. Capitano's lingering presence caused Tartaglia's first heat, at the worst time possible. At a time of War.
Still, they both do what they do best, as Survivors of the Abyss: they adapt.
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“You are not a whore, Tartaglia. But you look the part quite well. I’m curious—can you also play the part?”
Upon hearing some interesting rumours about Il Capitano’s “special tastes” when it comes to the local prostitutes, Tartaglia decides it prudent to investigate. After all, there are not many “fire-kissed boys” Capitano knows besides him.
Illustration by Bliss
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1. sarcastic; cutting
2. the bright, reflective patterns that form when light rays are reflected or refracted by the waves
Neuvillette's most recent mistake was falling in love with the Eleventh Harbinger from Snezhnaya; the boy he had wronged at court.
A collection of neuvichi shorts written for @frog_for_hugs' #neuvichi_month! ☆彡
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Tartaglia feigned shock. “Did I do something wrong?”
“I’ll give you one guess.” Wriothesley was looking at the skirt.
“You care about what I wear? What, are you that old? Does the sight of another’s skin bother you that much?”
Wriothesley bans Tartaglia from the Ring fights. Tartaglia gets him back for it.
Series
- Part 2 of Hook, Line, Sink.
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"Incredible. The heat from my palm is making it bigger."
"Yes… It's... responding to touch. Have you touched yours?"
"I don't have a dick."
Javert's confused noise turned into a moan when Lord Tartaglia stroked him deliberately.
Agent Javert offers his virgin boss a lesson on Sex Ed, demonstrations included.
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“Y-Your Grace?" One of the gardes called, his tone constipated. "Should we call in the Madame?”
Wriothesley glared at the man, which made him cower back into silence.
“There is no need for that.” Tartaglia's smile was full of teeth. “We’re all amongst gentlemen here. Isn't that right. 'Your Grace'?”
Wriothesley conducts the prison inspection on the newest inmate. Things escalate.
Series
- Part 1 of Hook, Line, Sink.
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“Is this your first time?” He pressed his index to the underside of the boy’s chin, urging him to slowly tilt his head up.
“No,” he sniffled, but his eyes were hard. “No, I will never give in. Abyssal curses be damned, I will not let you tarnish my body. That's the right of the one I marry.”
“Fatui are under oath.” Neuvillete recalled. “You can not marry.”
Tartaglia closed his eyes, and revered, “I’m married to God. My God. My Tsaritsa...”
“I understand. Your God is the God of Love, all acts of love must be done in her name. However—” He gripped Tartaglia’s chin between his thumb and index. “There is no love between you and me."
What results from an encounter between a Celestial being and a Abyss-touched human - a story in 3 acts.