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thatrandomlemononyourcounter1 · 9 months ago

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Keepers of the Lost Cities Chapter 1

Here it is folks. The beginning. I really really hope this goes well ;-;.

UPDATE: I'm dropping the link to the fic on google docs so I don't abuse Tumblr :)

UPDATE UPDATE: We're up to chapter 6! Once we get to chapter 10, I might attempt to draw something. Sidenote, I might actually cry if someone made fan art of my oc or any of the 'bonus scenes' I add into the book.

UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE: Y'all, we're at chapter 8 now. I might randomly post two chapters in a day, depending on the length of the chapters.

KOTLC BOOK REWRITE!!

Chapter 1

Sophie

“Miss Foster!” Mr. Sweeney’s nasal voice cut through Sophie’s blaring music as he yanked her earbuds out by the cords. “Have you decided that you’re too smart to pay attention to this information?”

Sophie forced her eyes open. She tried not to wince as the bright fluorescents reflected off the unnecessarily vivid blue walls of the museum, amplifying the throbbing headache she was hiding.

“No, Mr. Sweeney,” she mumbled, shrinking under the glares of her now staring classmates. She pulled her shoulder-length blond hair around her face, wishing she could hide behind it.

This was exactly the kind of attention she went out of her way to avoid. Why she wore dull colors and lurked in the back, blocked by the other kids who were at least a foot taller than her.

It was the only way to survive as a twelve-year-old high school senior.

“Then perhaps you can explain why you were listening to your iPod instead of following along?” Mr. Sweeney held up her earbuds like they were evidence in a crime.

Although to him, they probably were.

He’d dragged Sophie’s class to the Natural History Museum in Balboa Park, assuming his students would be excited about the all-day field trip. He didn’t seem to realize that unless the giant dinosaur replicas came to life and started eating people, no one cared.

Sophie tugged out a loose eyelash—a nervous habit—and stared at her feet.

There was no way to make Mr. Sweeney understand why she needed the music to cancel the noise.

He couldn’t even hear the noise.

Chatter from dozens of tourists echoed off the fossil-lined walls and splashed around the cavernous room. But their mental voices were the real problem.

Scattered, disconnected pieces of thoughts broadcast straight into Sophie’s brain—like being in a room with hundreds of TVs blaring different shows at the same time. They sliced into her consciousness, leaving sharp pains in their wake.

She was a freak.

It’d been her secret—her burden—since she fell and hit her head when she was five years old. She’d tried blocking the noise. Tried ignoring it. Nothing helped. And she could never tell anyone. They wouldn’t understand.

“Since you’ve decided you’re above this lecture, why don’t you give it?” Mr. Sweeney asked. He pointed to the enormous orange dinosaur with a duckbill in the center of the room. “Explain to the class how the Lambeosaurus differs from the other dinosaurs we’ve studied.”

Sophie repressed a sigh as her mind flashed to an image of the information card in front of the display. She’d glanced at it when they entered the museum, and her photographic memory recorded every detail.

As she recited the facts in a droning tone, Mr. Sweeney’s face twisted into a scowl, and she could hear her classmates’ thoughts grow increasingly sour. They weren’t exactly fans of their resident child prodigy.

They called her Curvebuster.

She finished her answer, and Mr. Sweeney grumbled something that sounded like “know-it-all” as he stalked off to the exhibit in the next room over. Sophie didn’t follow.

The thin walls separating the two rooms didn’t block the noise, but they muffled it. She grabbed what little relief she could.

“Nice job, superfreak,” Garwin Chang—a boy wearing a T-shirt that said BACK OFF! I’M GONNA FART—sneered as he shoved past her to join their classmates. “Maybe they’ll write another article about you. ‘Child Prodigy Teaches Class About the Lame-o-saurus.’”

“Hah. You only wish they’d write articles about you Chang.” A short blonde walked up to Sophie’s side, tilting her head towards her. “Don’t worry about him, Soph.”

Quinn Parker was a presence not easily ignored. She was also Sophie’s only friend.

They were both only twelve, and seniors in high school, navigating the world with strange abilities together.

Quinn could feel what other people were feeling if she got within close proximity of them, and knowing what others were feeling was, to quote Quinn, ‘Not fun.’

Sophie figured that must be almost as bad as having to hear other people’s thoughts.

She tugged out another eyelash.

Quinn shook her head and grabbed Sophie’s wrist to stop her from pulling any more. “He’s stupid anyway.”

“I guess.” Sophie whispered.

“I’m serious. You’re way smarter than anyone else I know.” Quinn reassured her, not letting go until Sophie begrudgingly nodded. “Okay, well, I know you probably want some relief from your headache, so I’ll leave you be. Don’t do anything dumb.”

Sophie sighed as she saw Quinn approaching Garwin, and had a feeling that she was going to start a problem that really didn’t need to be started. Even if Garwin really was being a jerk.

Garwin was still bitter Yale had offered her a full scholarship while his rejection letter had arrived a few weeks before.

Not that she was allowed to go.

Her parents said it was too much attention, too much pressure, and she was too young.

End of discussion.

So she’d be attending the much closer, much smaller San Diego City College next year—a fact some annoying reporter found newsworthy enough to post in the local paper the day before—CHILD PRODIGY CHOOSES CITY COLLEGE OVER IVY LEAGUE—complete with her senior photo.

Her parents freaked when they found it. “Freaked” wasn’t even a strong enough word. More than half their rules were to help Sophie “avoid unnecessary attention.” Front-page articles were pretty much their worst nightmare. They’d even called the newspaper to complain.

The editor had seemed almost as unhappy as they were.

The story was run in place of an article on the arsonist terrorizing the city—and they were still trying to figure out how the mistake had happened. Bizarre fires with white-hot flames and smoke that smelled like burnt sugar took priority over everything. Especially a story about an unimportant little girl most people went out of their way to ignore.

Or, they used to at least.

Across the museum, Sophie caught sight of a tall, dark-haired, sepia-skinned, boy reading yesterday’s newspaper with the embarrassing black-and-white photo of her on the front. Then he looked up and stared straight at her. She’d never seen eyes that particular shade of blue before—teal, like the smooth pieces of sea glass she’d found on the beach—and they were so bright they glittered.

Something flickered across his expression when he caught her gaze. Disappointment? Before she could decide what to make of it, he shrugged off the display he’d been leaning against and closed the distance between them. The smile he flashed belonged on a movie screen, and Sophie’s heart did a weird fluttery thing.

“Is this you?” he asked, pointing to the picture. Sophie nodded, feeling tongue-tied. He was probably fifteen, and by far the cutest boy she’d ever seen, so why was he talking to her?

“I thought so.” He squinted at the picture, then back at her. “I didn’t realize your eyes were brown.”

“Uh . . . yeah,” she said, not sure what to say. “Why?”

He shrugged. “No reason.”

Something felt off about the conversation, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. And she couldn’t place his accent. Kind of British, but different somehow. Crisper? Which bothered her—but she didn’t know why.

“Are you in this class?” she asked, wishing she could suck the words back as soon as they left her mouth. Of course he wasn’t in her class. She’d never seen him before. She wasn’t used to talking to boys—especially cute boys—and it made her brain a little mushy.

His perfect smile returned as he told her, “No.” Then he pointed to the hulking greenish figure they were standing in front of. An Albertosaurus, in all its giant, lizardesque glory. “Tell me something. Do you really think that’s what they looked like? It’s a little absurd, isn’t it?”

“Not really,” Sophie said, trying to see what he saw. It looked like a small T. rex: big mouth, sharp teeth, ridiculously short arms. Seemed fine to her. “Why? What do you think they looked like?”

He laughed. “Never mind. I’ll let you get back to your class. It was nice to meet you, Sophie.” He turned to leave just as two classes of kindergartners barreled into the fossil exhibit.

The crushing wave of screaming voices was enough to knock Sophie back a step. But their mental voices were a whole other realm of pain. Kids’ thoughts were stinging, high-pitched needles—and so many at once was like an angry porcupine attacking her brain.

So much for relief…

Sophie closed her eyes as her hands darted to her head, rubbing her temples to ease the stabbings in her skull. Then she remembered she wasn’t alone.

She glanced around to see if anyone noticed her reaction and locked eyes with the boy. His hands were at his forehead, and his face wore the same pained expression she imagined she’d had only a few seconds before.

“Did you just . . . hear that?” he asked, his voice hushed.

She physically felt the blood drain from her face.

He couldn’t mean . . . It had to be the screaming kids. They created plenty of racket on their own. Shrieks and squeals and giggles, plus sixty or so individual voices chattering away.

Voices.

She gasped and took another step back as her brain solved her earlier problem.

She could hear the thoughts of everyone in the room. But she couldn’t hear the boy’s distinct, accented voice unless he was speaking. His mind was totally and completely silent.

That had only happened with one other person.

“Who are you?” she whispered.

His eyes widened. “You did—didn’t you?” He moved closer, leaning in to whisper. “Are you a Telepath?”

She flinched.

The word made her skin itch. And her reaction gave her away.

“You are! I can’t believe it,” he whispered.

Sophie backed toward the exit. She wasn’t about to reveal her secret to a total stranger. It had taken her months- no- years to trust Quinn enough to tell her.

“It’s okay,” he said, holding out his hands as he moved closer, like she was some sort of wild animal he was trying to calm. “You don’t have to be afraid. I’m one too.”

Sophie froze.

“My name’s Fitz,” he added, stepping closer still.

Fitz? What kind of a name was Fitz?

She studied his face, searching for some sign that this was all part of a joke.

“I’m not joking,” he said, like he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Maybe he did.

She wobbled on her feet. She’d spent the past seven years wishing she could find someone else like her —someone who could do what she could. Now that she’d found him, she felt like the world had tilted sideways.

He grabbed her arms to steady her. “It’s okay, Sophie. I’m here to help you. We’ve been looking for you for twelve years.”

Twelve years? And what did he mean by “we”? Better question: What did he want with her?

The walls closed in and the room started to spin. Air. She needed air. She jerked away and bolted through the museum, running straight into Quinn.

“Soph? You okay? What’s wrong?”

Great.

Sophie couldn’t respond. She just ran, ignoring Quinn’s shouting for her to come back.

Sophie shot out of the museum’s ginormous doors, nearly tripping in the process. She sucked in giant breaths as she ran down the stairs in front of the museum. The smoke from the fires burned her lungs and white bits of ash flew in her face, but she ignored them. She wanted as much space between her and the strange boy as possible.

“Sophie, come back!” Fitz shouted behind her.

She picked up her pace as she raced through the courtyard at the base of the steps, past the wide fountain and over the grassy knolls to the sidewalk. No one got in her way—everyone was inside because of the poor air quality. But she could still hear his footsteps gaining on her.

“Wait,” Fitz called. “You don’t have to be afraid.”

She ignored him, pouring all her energy into her sprint and fighting the urge to glance over her shoulder to see how far back he was.

She made it halfway through a crosswalk before she heard Quinn’s terrified voice calling her name.

The sound of screeching tires reminded her she hadn’t looked both ways. Her head turned and she locked eyes with a terrified driver struggling to stop his car before it plowed right over her.

She was going to die.

And there ya go folks. Consider yourselves fed. No but fr I accept all criticism (unless you're being a douche) and I love knowing other people's opinions. (Please tell me if it sucks :)) One thing I forgot to mention is that I moved up the timing a bit, mostly so we could have newer music and a Nintendo switch in the fic. (I wanted the gang to play Mario kart don't come for me.) So right now the current timing is September of 2017.

#kotlc #keepers of the lost cities #sophie foster #fitz vacker #oc #fix it fic #fan fiction

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elvisabutler · 2 years ago

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Hey, baby! Love your work!

Can I ask for a Austin x reader where he’s dating a doctor during the wrap of Elvis and she is just tending to him when he gets hospitalised?

physician heal thy boyfriend

summary: your boyfriend is austin butler, star of the hopefully soon to be smash hit elvis. your boyfriend has a habit of pushing himself too far for this role. your boyfriend finds himself in your care while being completely and utterly out of it and sick as a dog. you are- mildly not impressed, but mostly a little worried. fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 ) pairing: austin butler x doctor! reader rating: t word count: 1952 warnings: hospital setting. talk of austin's hospitalization post elvis. talk of austin's injury to his head with the guitar. talk of medication and hallucinations. austin being sick as hell. reader is a doctor. mild implications of a panic attack. imagery of austin being very sick. brief mention of COVID as well. author's note: thank you for this request and the compliment, anon! it always delights me to have people enjoy my writing especially when i know it's not always everyone's cup of tea re: pairings or content. i didn't go super into detail re: the details of austin's hospitalization since- we don't know the exact exact details and i'm not a doctor myself. i hope you enjoy! and apologies for this taking a hot minute, i was trying to focus on kinktober stuff during october and things like this got opened and noticed and worked on- but not posted. also consider this a thanksgiving gift for all the americans who celebrate it. can't bring y'all food from my sil ( who will not let me cook for the family just yet ) but i can provide you fic food. and know that i'm super thankful for all of you.

It's not as if you didn't think this would be a possibility, you had gotten lucky the last time he injured himself- the time with the guitar that you still give him a good ribbing for- and you had been off and not at the hospital and thankfully stitches weren't necessarily your forte, you saved them for the surgeons. However, nothing in the universe, no amount of logic could have prepared you for seeing your boyfriend groaning on a gurney, looking at you with glassy eyes that mean he's not all there. He's physically there, yes, but his mind is either in a haze of a fever or completely given over to whatever pain is inflicting itself on him in the present moment. There's a part of your heart that stutters at the image, a part of your brain that is overwhelmed with sheer panic at seeing him like this. An actor is supposed to be a safe-ish profession, one where you don't have to worry about your significant other being hurt and showing up in an emergency room or at a hospital unexpectedly. Yet here you were, looking at him being struck down by an illness that came out of nowhere- at least- you're pretty sure it did.

Everyone downstairs had gotten him mostly stable from what you've heard and what you see in front of you. You try and not let your mind wander to what he looked like when he was brought in if this is stable, but the thought pops up nonetheless, making you stop in your tracks for just a moment as you took deep breaths. He was alright, you knew how to do your job, you could help him and stay with him. He could use his- he could use the fact that he has just wrapped Elvis- or something they'd make an exception for you just this once.

His current predicament was more your specialty than his guitar injury. Dealing with what would have been a normal case of appendicitis was easy even despite the now present extra complications. Austin- despite your strong suggestions that he maybe should take better care of himself- didn't take better care of himself, turning what could have been something simple into a much rougher infection and gave him lymph nodes you wouldn't wish on your worst enemy. If you weren't so worried you're pretty sure you'd make a joke about how he really is trying to become Elvis with the hospital stay despite the fact that you know the movie has wrapped. After all you and him had both are gone to the wrap part at Baz's house. There's a part of you that wonders if that party and the sheer amount of people that were at that party might have been what led to this. But you have learned in your few years as a doctor that it's better to not necessarily speculate like that unless you want to drive yourself up the wall. Besides if that was the cause of Austin's predicament right now you're not a hundred percent sure you wouldn't be a bit peeved at Baz. As it stands, you do end up shooting off a text to him asking him what on Earth happened and if he knew Austin wasn't feeling well that morning when they had met up for breakfast.

A groan from Austin's bed knocks you out of your head and reminds you that you have a job to do and you get yourself into gear, making sure he's got the correct tests ordered, the right medication ordered and everything you can think of that will make sure he will be comfortable even as his body tries to fully rebel against him. It's a bit touch and go for the first two days and the few times you think Austin is coherent and realizes that you are there he mutters 'Cilla and Satnin and you try to not take it personally, instead reminding yourself that his medicine has a tendency to have a side effect of at least mild hallucinations and he did just get done pretending to be Elvis for the greater part of almost two years. After that second day and heading into the third, you realize he's seeming more normal, his eyes look a little clearer when you see them open and you chance a proper visit, one where you stay there until he wakes up just to actually check on him properly.

A proper visit where the exhaustion of taking care of all your other patients and him might end up catching up to you and has you passing out with your head in his lap in what is the- most comfortable chair you could use to sleep in- if you had used it normally and not pulled it up next to his bed. The first thing you're aware of as you wake up is a hand on your head and a very rough sounding southern drawl coming from above you.

"What- Y/N, what- why are ya in m'lap, baby?" The confusion is evident in his voice but as you groggily lift your head up and look into his eyes, you can see it written all over there as well.

It takes you a minute or so to wake up, your eyes adjusting to the light and to the movement of Austin shifting in the bed, trying to make himself more comfortable. When you finally do you blink at him and purse your lips. "What's the last thing you remember, Aus?"

You very rarely use that specific nickname with him, saving it only for occasions when you feel he needs to honestly pay attention to you. That alone causes him to sit up as straight as he can and just look at you with an intensity you know he couldn't have managed either of the previous days.

"I was with Baz and-" He pauses, biting his lower lip before wincing. "Pain. A lot of pain and feeling like I was on fire."

The description earns a grim smile from you before you exhale, shaking your head. "That is a pretty good description of what you looked like when I got called down to make sure you weren't going to die or be left permanently incapacitated. Now I know my boyfriend didn't specifically ignore my orders as his doctor girlfriend to actually take care of himself especially now that filming was winding down. And I know he didn't act like a teenager who when I wasn't around to maybe check or was too busy at work just took advantage of that and didn't take care of himself. Because he's a smart guy, isn't he?"

Austin looks like he's about to say the first thing that comes to mind, the first- you imagine- pretty idiotic thing that comes to mind before he sees the look on your face and realizes this is a battle he will not win. "I-" He stops and moves to grab your hand. "I might have continued to push myself because I'm a bit of an idiot who definitely was taking advantage of my long hours and your long hours to hide that. Is that what I need to admit? Or do I need to keep going?"

You can't help but laugh at the question, biting your lip to prevent a full fit of laughter from escaping. "I mean, you can keep going, I'm actually a little curious to see how big of a hole you can dig yourself into, by all means." Your eyes slide up to his IV bag and you frown, grabbing his remote to call a nurse, the alarm hasn't sounded that it's empty and due for a change but- you know how busy it's been lately and you're not in the mood to have Austin wait for too long.

Austin's quiet for a moment as he looks at you, noting how he swears you have some lines on your forehead that you didn't have before. He put those there- he made you worry so much you got new worry lines. It doesn't distract from your beauty, far from it, but still it sens a rush of guilt through him that has him placing his hand on your cheek. Before you realize what you're doing, you nuzzle your cheek against his hand, letting out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. Letting out tension in your shoulders that haven't left since he first was brought in. "I'm- Nothing is going to change what happened, but for what it's worth, I'm sorry baby."

A shaky sort of breath leaves your body before you grab Austin's hand and move to kiss it before you touch his cheek. "I know you are. Because you scared the shit out of me. And Baz, but he wasn't the one taking care of you, who didn't know what exactly was wrong and how you could-" You shut your eyes and rub at them. "You're not allowed to do this to me again, Mr. Butler. I started dating you because you're supposed to be the safe bet, no silly injuries or COVID or sickness like this. And look at you, a guitar to the head, this, you better not make it a trifecta."

He shakes his head, moving his hand that you still have held to brush away tears you have falling. "I wouldn't dream of it." He pauses. "How long am I in here for?"

"A week." You answer quicker than you should. "Might be overkill but you've got your antibiotics via IV and while you live with me and I can change it, I also have to be at work half the time so hospital it is."

Austin flushes and you think for a moment he's going to be sick before you see how he's looking at you- it's a look you know well, one that usually leads to things in the bedroom and you just narrow your eyes as he starts to speak. "So, you're my doctor then. And I'm your patient."

You take a moment to just look up at the ceiling and purse your lips, wondering not for the first time why you ever started dating Austin when he says dumb things like that. It shouldn't be something that's funny, and it really isn't but you've been so worried about him for the past two days that hearing that stupid joke as much as it makes you roll your eyes just makes you laugh. "I am and you are. But as your doctor I cannot in good conscience condone any shenanigans of a sexual sort just yet. Maybe in a few days."

He nods solemnly as he sees a nurse entering a room. He leans over for a moment, knowing fully well you can't stop laughing and won't just yet. "Just show up in only the your coat and we'll know if I'm feeling better. You know I can't resist your sexy doctor look."

If you have to tell the nurse about changing his IV bag through broken off bits of laughter, that's his fault. If you can't help but slap his arm lightly when he tries to grab at your butt- seriously, you really should have remembered the side effects of his medicine and his inhibitions- then that's also his fault. If later on that day you find yourself curled up against him watching some Australian soap opera? Well, despite not being on duty this particular day, you are still his doctor, and a little rest and a lot of cuddles might have been your additional recommendation for the start of an optimal recovery.

And really, who was he to argue?

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler fanfiction #austin butler fluff #austin butler angst #austin butler x you #austin butler x y/n #elvis 2022 #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fic #austin butler imagine #ally writes #let us see if tumblr will let this go to the tags.

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ttaffanartsfandom · 11 months ago

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Repost:

(January 8th, 2022)

Title: "Ron vs Roy"

Another spoiler for this I thought I was the only one who forgot about this fanmade who actually I've made. This is like theory fiction, and I wish the story would be a realistic point to my view in actual show...secretly..

aired is before 2021 after 2022 showed up to adding many details of them and like i said this is gonna be more satisfying for hearing story about them for planing to do this all day. Although it may have taken too long to progress this feature to be fair, I was busy to separate things my brain went like I was gonna put to Canon event bc I'm definitely interested in this especially when I'm using references to this so far. I'm hope I can make it till next time. Besides, I have so many of these in my gallery to wanna assure y'all into 🫶🏽

Do NOT steal/trace/save without permission (only if you ask me permission, first in my dm, unlike any of you all, didn't see my watermarks). Thanks :)

Characters: Roy Rakoon and Talking Ron (my fanmade, well however...i really want outfit7 add this man into s6 for some happening over his "ran out of ideas" completely disagreement total sad to see cliffhanger gets bad ending. you could just hire me if you are really interested in my thoughts. I'll add my scripts for joining you whenever you feel inconsiderate, including showing behind my secrets).

(Reminder I actually met outfit7 since 2022, and I'm impressed to see their crew members to meet me and to welcome them ! :"DD cries in joy)

Program I used software: FireAlpaca (that is the most simple thing I ever done in my life and I started to feel like this program is overused for me bc I never take a side of my laptop to situated on boring nights it's literally slow for me and... kinda tired....but I still gonna use it for no reason, lol.

Hope you enjoy my artwork🫶🏽 or if you are constantly giving my art trade for this lil image as an impact/hj (again I don't remember the layers on my laptop I'm too express to looking at it. Hope u understand :"] I'm too introverted/p)

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loosesodamarble · 6 months ago

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Ooo more you say 👀? May I ask again for 3, 4, and 5 for the Oto-may ask game please 🥰?

Yay~! More questions for me to answer and talk about!

3) Funny moment

Ah..... Ahaha... AHAHAHAHAAAAAAAA!

Okay, I want to share not just a funny moment. But by far the funniest moment I've encountered across the otomes I've played because. Buckle up folks is it a weird one!

Our scene takes place in Winter's Wish: Spirits of Edo.

In this world, everyday items can take on human forms as Formfolk/Vessels (the difference doesn't matter for now). One of these tools-turned-humans is the love interest Ohtaro.

And then we have our heroine, Suzuno. She has special powers that let her see emotions and purify monsters born of negative emotions. In Ohtaro, she also gains the ability to see into someone's past by performing intimate acts.

Suzuno gets some flashbacks and figures out that Ohtaro is connected to her mother (he was a belonging of the mother's). And so to learn the full truth, she finds Ohtaro in a field and just...

Goes for the kiss, right then and there.

And the thing is, the flashback lasts as long as the kiss does. The text of the game outright says that Suzuno "comes back to reality" and she's still kissing Ohtaro when that happens. So my brain now has the image of Suzuno and Ohtaro making out sloppy style just so Suzuno can learn about her mom.

That alone is funny enough.

But it gets funnier because...

Y'ALL! EVERYONE ELSE WAS WATCHING THEM!

Now Kyoshiro likely means that the team has been watching Suzuno and Ohtaro's interactions for the past several days. But I also imagine that they followed Suzuno to the field and saw her and Ohtaro making out for who knows how long.

They just let it happen and only stepped in after they were done making out down memory lane.

PEAK COMEDY IN MY OPINION!

4) Most annoying character

Not to hate a child character... But Ru from Variable Barricade can shut up. I'm trying to focus on Shion being a loving and doting suitor and then Ru comes barreling in like "senpai! Please help me get hired by the photographer that you used to model for!"

I know the kid wants to be famous and is trying to network. But goodness gracious, why must he be present in the route? I still don't get why he's there. I think the route could function just fine since Hibari can still insist that Shion go back to his old job and he can make a drama of it. ALL WITHOUT THE CHILD THERE!

But no. I have to put up with the kid.

It's not that I don't like child characters who appear in otomes. I adore Nadia (Virche Evermore) and Kariya (Cafe Enchante). But maybe it's because Nadia is literally integral to Lucas's life while Kariya consistently involves himself in every route. And then Ru is a random internet celebrity showing up in Shion's route and it's so ugh to me.

LIKE NO! SHUT UP, RU! SHION AND I ARE HAVING A MOMENT!

5) Sad moment

Hngh... (sniffles and wipes tears) Lucas... My man... He's abso-fucking-lutely hated by the writers because WHY CAN'T HE BE HAPPY?!?!?!?

The scene where the story flashes back to Lucas's past... Oof. Lucas ran away from home with his sister Nadia when he was 14 and her 4. She was sick and on the verge of death. No doctor could figure it out. Most agreed she was doomed to die. And the siblings' parents figured that the only way to let her live would be to clone her which... is a problem for various reasons.

So Lucas just picks up little Nadia and walks off with her, desperate to find help anywhere. They get caught in the rain and Lucas laments how he and his baby sister can't live normal lives. That the conditions of their birth were a cruel trial from God.

It's really not fair knowing that all Lucas wanted for him and his sister was a normal life and since the very beginning, all they really had was each other. Not even their parents had their backs.

It breaks my heart...

#questions from the ask box #soda asides #lyra of the future #wifey lyra 💗#oto-may ask game

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sapphire-writes · 1 year ago

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You're going to live for the next thousand years -as the saying goes- because you updated JUST as i was thinking about you.

A couple of hours I saw this reaction image and I've just been vibrating with excitement to use it for this newest chapter.

Gworl.... Miss Jo....

I like Floris.. i like her a lot. The whole chapter gave me slight Euphoria season 1 vibes except much less toxic and with Floris giving some serious but much kinder and friendlier Maddie energy. I like her!

Also, that man needs to grovel more!! Oh, you spent a whole ass week checking your phone? Grow up Aemond, you'll never be a tumblr girlie checking on her mutuals notifications for their shitposting.

Helaena was a real one too. As far as what Aegon did to kid Aemond...ugh... Trashy, lame, boo, tomatoes.. you ruined a perfectly good kid you wet sock!

I liked that Floris got her apology, and i felt so bad for her. To be disrespected like that but see it as a compliment...oooh girl... My heart goes out to her.

Now i need you to know that the whole smut.. it was excellent... Rule of threes says the third time they indulge in their exhibitionism kink sth is going to happen! (they have no chill and im HERE FOR IT *screams in slut*)

But i also need to disclaim.. i may have an intense fear of heights and edges and Ferris wheels are particularly terrifying becuase they are slow, they build up the anticipation and the fear and let you stew in them. (I may have cried once before during a ride).

So my trashy brain kept thinking that throughout all the moaning and the *sounds* you would be able to hear the creaking of the rusty hinges and i just about died.

Last but not least

Feral cunt struck thirsty ass pussy needy Aemond is something VERY PERSONAL and also PRECIOUS, PLEASE!!!! 😩😩😩😩😩

if that man begs again or acts desperate and needy🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼🙌🏼 i will throw my phone in the sea and watch it get swallowed by the waves

Dom! But bottom or Sub! But top Aemond is not a want actual it is a need.

This has been a PSA. Y'all are welcome.

Anyways! Great chapter as always can't wait for the gala shitshow (if dae shows up i wish baela decks him). I am now going to patiently wait for your readers to reblog the fic and post their own reaction images because istg this is the second wave of enjoyment i get everytime you or Rae update.

Bestie, first you need to know I live for your reactions- every time I post I literally giggle knowing I'll see you in my ask box soon 🤭 😘

I was totally channeling season 1 Euphoria with the carnival scene- I always knew the carnival was happening and at first, wasn't going to have Floris be a bestie, but I am such a girl's girl I simply could not make her mean!! GIRL POWER!!

Aemond begging. Let's talk about it.

IM OBSESSED AND HAVE BEEN WAITING TO WRITE THIS!! So glad you enjoyed it 😘

ilysm bestie, thanks for taking the time to always send me your thoughts, seriously you make my whole day!!

#sapphire answers #our last summer

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supercantaloupe · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 15,200 times in 2022

2,185 posts created (14%)

13,015 posts reblogged (86%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@gendercents

@trainwreckgenerator

@grasslandgirl

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I tagged 5,917 of my posts in 2022

#sasha speaks - 1,778 posts

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Longest Tag: 124 characters

#then again maybe osf wouldnt be interesting enough since they make curly a lesbian and juds still straight ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

My Top Posts in 2022:

i really think people need to, at least once in their life, experience an orchestral concert, in person. the best headphones, speakers, surround sound systems will never capture the feeling of being in a concert hall when an orchestra is playing. when the acoustics are such that you can not only hear the music but feel it, feel it literally all around you, and you experience being fully inside the sound. it is a really magical experience that i’ve only experienced inside a concert hall and i really really wish more people could experience that, and understand that that experience is unique and important and irreplaceable. the best audio recreation equipment in the world will never replace the nuance and beauty of live performance and it’s truly a physical experience in the way that reproduced audio can never be

165 notes - Posted January 30, 2022

here's an extremely stupid drawing i did months ago with literally no context. happy new year

[id: two pencil and marker drawings. the first image is a drawing of fig faeth, a pink tiefling with short hair and curved horns. she is wearing a greyt shirt with a skull design, a red skirt, and a fishnet stocking on one leg. she holds a microphone in one hand and has the other raised in the air as she sings “have you checked your BUTTHOLE?” the second image is a drawing of fig and gorgug, a tall orc in grey hoodie and sweatpants. they are both wearing sunglasses. fig is playing a light pink bass guitar and gorgug is playing a red snare drum. they sing the words “ski-dap ba-dup butthole” together.]

173 notes - Posted January 1, 2022

love me a zac oyama PC. both original flavor and under new management

[image id: three pencil drawings of norman “the skipper” takamori from the dimension 20 season a starstruck odyssey. norman is a middle aged japanese man with slicked back hair, dark eyes, thick mustache, five o clock shadow, and a scar on his right cheek. the top drawing a 3/4 bust of norman looking gruffly to the left and saying “you’re all morons.” the bottom left drawing is a bust of norman with swirled eyes looking forward at the viewer with a curious expression and saying “okay.” the bottom right drawing is a 3/4 bust of norman with swirled eyes looking to the right and smiling slightly, saying “right on!” there is a small drawing in the top right of the image of two different eyes looking right. the first one is fully shaded dark and labeled “normal” while the second is partially shaded with a swirl pattern and labeled “brain slug.”]

188 notes - Posted January 21, 2022

being a primarily Musicals guy getting more into Opera as of late, it really makes me kinda disappointed seeing how much One Single Production of a musical (typically its original broadway or occasionally west end run) becomes The definitive version of the show. and analysis of the show then tends to treat production and text as inseparable or even identical

like man. opera ppl...y'all have it so good...so many wildly different productions of the same (popular) operas are available to watch filmed, or at your local opera company. i can google don giovanni and find like 10 completely different productions at the click of a button, and none of them are Inherently more the "right" or "wrong" way of being don giovanni. i can have my own opinions on which ones i think work best (and boy do i), but the fact that so many different versions of the same show exist at all is a sign that you CAN have different interpretations of the same text -- and they're all still the same opera, fundamentally. production ≠ text ≠ the whole show

but with musicals i very much feel like, because of how The Industry works, One Production easily becomes The definitive vision of the show. certainly this has to do with the scarcity of filmed musicals when compared to opera (along with bootleg culture + the broader trouble of accessibility in musicals), as well as the (over)prevalence of replica productions, and i think also the age of most musicals is much younger than most operas so there's less time for new productions to be made let alone become popular. like i don't think it's a coincidence that oklahoma!, arguably the oldest true book musical, is the only musical i can think of where a radically nonreplica production gained such popularity and acclaim that it challenges the previous (Very well established!) interpretation of the text as the Definitive version of the show for many audience members. and because of that, it's one of the only shows where the analysis and discourse of the show makes a clear(ish) distinction between the text and the production itself. the vast majority of musicals do not receive the same treatment

it kinda bums me out knowing that musical ppl don't get the same exposure to new visions of a text outside the dominant broadway/west end blockbuster productions. i know regional theater exists and by gd do i feel like it is underrated in its importance to the development of theater literacy in audiences but unfortunately regional productions only VERY rarely get publicized outside of their regions, and therefore can't meaningfully contribute to conversations about a particular musical the same way a broadway production can.

idk i've Long felt that the way musicals become defined by a single production is a fault both of the industry and of the fandoms, and i've been a snob about that here for years. but getting more into opera lately has made me realize just how prevalent the issue is, bc opera Does Not operate the same way.

215 notes - Posted October 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

ooh draw me

226 notes - Posted May 22, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #man. my stats are dumb as shit LOL

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hanniejji · 2 years ago

Text

born from the ashes of another

[ father!diluc ragnvindr x child!reader ]

summary: a phoenix born from ashes and flame, blaze as bright as the first, but can never last as long as the first burst. how does a phoenix ignite itself after losing its flame?

notes: this chonky piece of shit took a long while to finish goddamn. also, heavily inspired by my anons who keeps giving me wonderful brainrots! y'all are wonderful and i love reading your ideas! neways, watch me drop this out of nowhere without a proper ending haha suffer motherfuckers >:) | m.list

words: 7,449 | warnings: sad shit, character death (mentioned), "y/n" used, injuries, torture (not descriptive), trauma, neglect,

ACT I.

diluc's eyes flutter open at the start of your cries, the sound passing through the doors of your room across his, just like what he had intended.

well, what his wife intended for.

shaking the sleepiness out of his mind, he pushes his weary body off the bed, the cold floor helping his groggy brain to wake up by sending chills along his nerves.

"shit."

he winches at the stinging pain on his side from an earlier encounter. it wasn't a deep cut, but it stung like a searing burn against the cloth of his sleepwear. 'wretched abyss,' he thought. nevertheless, he forces himself to move quickly, hoping that your cries haven't woken any of the staff in the house.

yet, his hand flinched just before he could even turn the door knob of your door.

his chest feels constricted, the long hallways seemingly looming over him and the shadows wavering into figures that he's sure is just a figment created by the combination of his imagination and fear. perhaps with a mix of his fatigue and emotions that he had been restraining for the sake of going through his responsibilities without a hitch.

but who could blame him for having moments like this, when he hasn't even had a moment to mourn for the loss of his wife?

the loss of his beloved and the arrival of their child. it was a fear that loomed over everyone in the household after they discovered their madam collapsed one day. her body was too weak to nurture another life. diluc had been in denial at first, searching far and wide for someone to help them save his wife and the child in her womb.

in the end, the doctor had to force him to choose before they lost both of you.

and he chose what his wife begged him to. a final wish that he couldn't possibly deny her of. he could still remember her pained voice as she whispered her last wish to him.

"save them," she had begged the trembling man seated beside her bed. "there's no guarantee that i may even survive this, so please, at least save our child, my love."

if finding even the tiniest hope for her survival was a struggle, making sure that you live through the process was akin to fighting death itself. you didn't make a single noise the moment you were born and there was almost no air coming from your nose. the doctors were separated, some were fussing over you while your mother was taken care of for the entirety of the night.

the moment you made a small cry was like a small show of mercy from the gods.

your mother was still conscious enough to see you for the first and last time. she spent her last moments in his arms, smiling at your resting form bundled in a red blanket.

those mere minutes of tranquility was something out of his dreams.

the image of his wife—with the exception of her deathly pale skin and weak breathing—holding your frail body in her arms, the smile that was shared between them. yet diluc's lips trembled at the inevitable quietus in his beloved's eyes. her last words uttered in a whisper and the shiver that traversed across his spine when he felt her cold hands lingered on his skin.

"i love you."

the next thing he knew, doctors were scurrying right back to the room while he sat outside with you in his arms, lifeless eyes staring aimlessly at the floor.

nothing could possibly console him. but his life had forced him to go back and attend to his responsibilities, as if the death of his wife wasn't enough for the gods.

a loud shrill of your cries woke him a second time this night.

no, he scolded himself, turning the knob to push your door open and taking a deep breath, i don't have time for such thoughts.

carefully, he closed the door with a click, his face frowning at the incessant cries coming from your crib. he can see your little arms flailing up and around through the wooden rails, prompting him to quicken his pace towards you.

what a tiny little thing you are, he can still remember his wife's voice when you were placed in her arms that night.

"good evening, little one," he coos, lowering his hand to brush against the baby hairs on your head.

"if i remember correctly, adelinde fed you earlier just before i arrived—" he recalls that it had just been two and a half hours ago when he finished his patrol around mondstadt, "—what must be causing you to fuss at this time of the night?"

he wasn't aware of it, but the corner of his lips tilted up into a small smile. his voice in a gentle tone that only his beloved had the honor of hearing. your delicate skin barely felt the feather-like touches of his fingertips but it was enough to make your cries decrease in volume, your hiccups and whimpers left to echo in the four walls of your room.

diluc felt his heart leap for a second, but shook his head to focus on easing your cries.

"your diaper is clean," he glances at the sheets in your crib, "you hadn't entangled yourself with the mattress either."

it's safe to say that everything that diluc had read about parenting, which were multiple shelves upon shelves of books, had dispersed the second he had to put it to use.

"uh," he looks down at you in concern, clueless and hands trembling in nervousness.

you're still crying, albeit not as loud as before but he still wouldn't want you to keep crying until you get tired. he sighs, wracking his brain of anything that might solve his problems right away.

"barbatos help me—wait, no, nevermind," he groans, reprimanding himself for even thinking about that unreliable and drunkard archon of mondstadt. hesitating for a second, he carefully reaches under your armpits then pauses.

how do you carry babies again?

you must've sensed his reluctance, squirming at the uncomfortable grip he has around your armpits and whining.

"wait, no, that's not right."

cursing under his breath, he then slips his hands under your head and bum, carefully—almost too careful, he's so afraid to accidentally drop you—lifting you to his chest, where he lets your head rest on his shoulder. the weight of your body was unfamiliar in his arms, so light. he really hasn't carried you that much, huh? his arms are too stiff to be comfortable for babies, yet here you are, babbling quietly and relaxing.

wait, what?

he turns his head to look at your untroubled sleeping face.

did you… did you stop crying the moment he took you in his arms?

"oh, my little flame."

you look so… so fragile and at peace. he never imagined that such a vulnerable little thing like you would ever feel so secured in his presence that you'd cease your tears at the touch of his warmth. it's like he was all you were searching for in the first place—and he is. you really were asking, crying, for him. for a mere few minutes in his arms and you're already so comfortably sleeping, as if you weren't just fussing a moment ago. you wanted him, a man who had lost everything and grew familiar with violence, to hold you in his arms.

the whole time that he was awestruck at such a precious moment in front of him, he had not realized the tears running down his cheeks.

only when he felt the drops of crystal clear tears on your clothes did he snap from his gaze, shifting you gently to wipe away his tears. his tired eyes affected by his sudden tears feel heavier than earlier.

but he didn't want to leave this yet.

he wants to stay like this a little longer. he wants to feel the utmost trust you put in him to hold your fragile little self and protect you in your most vulnerable state.

this… this is an unfamiliar territory, yet it also feels right. like his arms is where you are safe the most.

so he stays.

leaning his back on the armchair placed in your baby room, he carefully shifts you to lay on his arms, watching you sleep with tenderness in his eyes. to be given such an opportunity to care, love, and protect such a precious little thing. one that was given to him by his wife. one that lit up a tiny flame in his heart, slowly engulfing his whole person and soaring the skies.

he would do everything to protect you, even at the cost of his life.

"rest well, little phoenix."

but you burned so brightly that he sometimes had to look away.

ACT II.

to say that everyone in the ragnvindr household, staff and employees alike, are in shambles is an understatement.

this includes even the ever so smooth cavalry captain, kaeya.

the cause? you, the only child of diluc ragnvindr, had fallen terribly ill a week ago. at first it was just a runny nose and a constant feeling of discomfort. three days later, your simple cold turned into a high fever. the bad news? diluc is thousands of miles away in fontaine, dealing with international business and he hasn't been answering their letters. yes, letters, plural form. they had sent the fifth letter this morning.

kaeya, and everyone else, is slowly losing their mind. adelinde and elzer are on the verge of a breakdown.

"ah, seriously, your stupid father."

kaeya sighed for the nth time today. he had been taking his day off for the past four days, choosing to look after your ill state. the convenience of his cryo vision came in handy in this situation, keeping your forehead cool with a hand and using his body temperature to make sure you aren't being affected by the heatwave outside.

yet, your fever refuses to go down. you weren't necessarily hard to take care of, but the frown on your face and whimpers from time to time says enough.

that, and you kept asking for your currently absent father.

"uncle?"

"yes, pipsqueak?" he rubs his hand across your back, "do you want something?"

"where's dad?"

kaeya couldn't help the grimace at your question, choosing to say something that wouldn't directly tell you that your dumbass of a father is too busy to spare a minute or two to read their letters regarding your state.

"he'll be home soon, alright?"

kaeya's never been a religious person, but he prays to the wielder of faith that what he said will come true.

"i want dad…"

"i know, kid, i know."

a few seconds later, you're once again in a feverish dreamland. kaeya couldn't imagine how it must've felt to not find the person you need the most at your weakest state. (well, he could actually, but even then he was always surrounded by people when he was your age)

perhaps it's not as obvious to the public, but kaeya is not just anyone. he knows the longing in your eyes whenever he sees you look at you diluc. the way you don't seem to have the same glee that klee and any other child have. he's also painfully aware of diluc's negligence and irresponsibility as your father. how can he not be aware, when you ask him things that you should already know just by spending time with your father? when he had never seen the two of you in the same room, bonding or doing whatever a father and his child should be doing? when he can clearly see you looking at your father with desperate eyes and diluc looks at you wistfully, unable to sort his the unresolved emotions he still had since your mother's passing? after all, diluc ragnvindr is a man who cannot waste his time to mourn when time is unwilling to wait. time is unyielding, merciless, keeps moving forward and will not spare anyone a moment to stop. and you are his child burdened at such a young age.

but you still ask for your father nonetheless.

"is dad here yet?"

that's the nth time you asked that question now.

adelinde couldn't help but frown every time you did, praying to the anemo archon once more that the master would soon push the doors to the manor open. after kaeya left for work—he unfortunately couldn't skip today's patrol, something about observing the recent appearance of an unusual activity in the wild—you had woken up from a fever dream. if adelinde wasn't already stressed for the past few days, she was sure she would've passed out when she saw you crying in your sleep, twisting and turning around under the crumpled sheets before waking up with a yelp, curling around your knees as you let out heart wrenching whimpers and cries for your father.

it took a while before you eventually settled down in bed again, but unable to close your eyes after the fright.

"please, young one, you need to rest if you want to get well."

"i want to wait for dad…"

she had never seen you in such a state where you'd stubbornly stick your feet to the ground with the resolve that resembled your father so much. you were always such an obedient child, listening intently to the staff—especially to diluc—and never having to be told of something twice for you to understand something.

but right now, even as your eyes refuse to stay open and your breaths turn shallow, you clench your fist around your blanket with a determination that's mighty as steel.

oh you remind her so much of diluc whenever he gets stubborn as a sick child, it would've been so endearing if only the two aren't in such a complicated situation.

"knock knock," elzer peeks inside from the door, giving you a gentle smile before entering. "don't want to sleep yet?"

"the young one is insisting on waiting for the master," adelinde sighed tiredly.

"i want to wait for dad," they barely heard your voice from under your blanket. when did you even cocooned yourself?

"i figured as much," elzer chuckled as he walked closer, pulling something from behind him to show you. "i have something that might help you. here, let me unwrap you from the burrito you got yourself into."

carefully, he takes the blanket away from your shivering body, quickly replacing it with two coats similar to the ones your dad wears everyday.

"did you take that from the laundry?"

"apologies," he sheepishly smiles at adelinde. "i thought our young ragnvindr here would feel better if they had something to remind them of the master."

"you didn't even have the mind to tell me?"

"you haven't left this room since master kaeya went out!"

"thank you."

the two whipped their heads to look at you, both exhaling a relieved breath at the sight of your eyes closed, snuggling into the coats that are remarkably too large for your size. you look a little more at ease now, forehead lacking the crease of your eyebrows.

"i miss dad," you subconsciously murmured, barely heard if it wasn't for the silence in the room.

elzer brushes the hair away from your face, delicately smoothing his thumb at your temple with a soft smile.

"fret not, young one. master diluc will arrive sooner than later," he purses his lips at the lie.

just like that, you have once again fallen into the land of dreams, hopefully one that will not stir you awake with fear.

as if the archons had enough of their constant voices, their prayers have been answered.

diluc can consider his business in fontaine successful. he had not expected it to only take a week and a day, clearly assuming that it would've taken more than just a week to strike a deal in business. but hey, what's done is done and he's thankful that he could come home to you sooner.

after all, he wouldn't have worked his ass off as diligently as possible if he didn't want to see you immediately.

he had been packed with papers here and there from multiple people who wanted to do business with him—he's much more surprised that he went through all of them in such a short amount of time—that he had unintentionally forgotten the unusual amount of letters from elzer and… kaeya?

what in the world would kaeya want from him other than to annoy him? no matter, the sooner he finishes things up the sooner he can go home.

ah, home. home is wherever you are safe.

except, he didn't expect to come home to his maids scurrying around without the supervision of adelinde and how they are extremely relieved to see him enter through the entrance.

"master diluc!" they exclaimed at the same time.

the two rushed to his direction, both simultaneously rambling his ears off in concern.

"wait, wait," diluc sighed, stopping them from their rambles, "i do not understand anything that the two of you are saying. now, tell me what's wrong, clearly this time." he pointed a look towards moco.

"um," she gulped—clearly nervous about the sudden stare—"it's about your child." the two tensed up at the way his eyes squinted into a worried look.

"yes? what happened?"

"they had fallen ill for a week and three days now."

without wasting a single moment after those words escaped moco's mouth, his feet hurriedly skips to the stairs and swerved the corners of every hallway to their room right in front of his, where adelinde is just about to close the door upon her exit.

"what happened?"

she sharply turned around at his sudden voice, breathing a sigh of relief. she almost thought that she's starting to see things out of desperation.

"i'm glad you've returned safely, master diluc," she curtsies, "the little one had only just fallen asleep after a few hours of restless tousling in bed. they've been asking for you ever since they fell ill."

"their condition?" he eyes the crack on the door where he can see the mop of hair just a little.

"their fever hasn't gone down for a week now, but it also hasn't gotten worse. although, i'm afraid this is causing too much stress on them and it's not allowing them to rest," she moves aside the door, placing a hand on his shoulder and gently nudging him inside with an encouraging smile. "i believe the constant thought of you and your absence in their delirious state is weighing down on their fragile condition. i'm sure they'll feel a little better with their father's presence."

"thank you for looking after them and… apologies, i—"

"it is not i that you should be apologizing to. please," she pleads, "they need you right now, master diluc. they need their father."

sharing one last glance of acknowledgement between the two, adelinde leaves diluc to his own device, the latter then pushing the door open as quietly as possible.

the sight of your tiny figure wrapped in his coats, curled into a ball in the large bed that seems to be too cold for your comfort feels like a lightning struck diluc's heart. your eyes are shut tight, half of your face covered by the clothes and obvious shivers wracking your body. to the eyes of someone that doesn't share the same sharp sense of a man who's been through harsh winters and countless near death encounters, one wouldn't be able to see the twitches of your eyes, completely encased inside your slumbering dreams.

all of this was happening while he was thousands of miles away. such a foolish mistake on his part to regard those letters inconvenient without even knowing its contents.

your pain reminds him of your mother's demise. like a mirage playing all of his suffering in a loop.

but no, he's here now and it's not the time to wallow in self-deprecating thoughts when he should be prioritizing your health.

"my little flame," he exhales under his breath, lowering himself beside you on your bed and brushing your hair away from your face, the mere touch of his warm fingers stirring you awake from a cold dream.

or maybe, you're still dreaming.

because there's just no way for the man that you've been calling out for just moments ago—it's been days but you're too delirious to figure that out—is now here beside you, smiling at you in a way he never had done so before.

"dad?"

"hey," he greets, staring right back at your sleep-hazed eyes with a soft smile, "how's my little phoenix feeling, hm?"

"cold. i feel very cold."

"i see, it just so happens that i have a pyro vision to help you with that," he breathed a relieved sigh when you chuckled quietly. "would you mind if i hold you to keep you warm for a while?"

"you're not… busy?"

"that doesn't matter right now, little flame. i would rather be here than anywhere else."

dad is always busy, you thought. this really must be a good dream.

"i… i want dad to hold me."

"i would gladly."

in the next few minutes, you fight to keep your eyes open, nuzzling your head against the warmth of your father's chest. he has you huddled close to his chest while he sits on the chair beside your bed, still bundled in his coats. you look so much like that night when he first took you in his arms to sooth your cries, falling asleep with your bundled form in his chest and waking up to see your peaceful slumber, not once stirring awake to cry after he took you in his arms. that night he swore to give everything he has to protect your light.

if the archons would let you, you would stay in this dream forever—and if falling asleep in this dream means you'd wake up to a reality where diluc barely looks behind him to see you trying to reach for him with your little hands, then you never want to wake up from this dream.

"rest well, my flame. i'll be here for you whenever you need me."

and what a wonderful dream it was.

ACT III.

kaeya had never felt so cold in the tavern in his entire life.

it wasn't raining, nor was it winter that sources the low temperature, and it couldn't possibly be cold in such an establishment that diluc owns. in fact, it's always been warm in the tavern.

until today, that is.

"would you care to repeat that again?"

kaeya, despite being a cryo vision wielder, felt the hairs in his body stood at the icy venomous tone that came out of diluc's mouth. he's used to hearing him speak in such way that makes him intimidating—not so much to kaeya—but right now his voice just reeks pure anger and murderous intent that everyone, sober or not, can do nothing but stare at the scene in fear.

"i will gladly say it again!" the man hollered, utterly drunk and out of his mind.

"fool," kaeya glared at the man in front of the bar counter.

"you would've been better off saving your wife rather than your wretched child. you wouldn't lose anything if you saved her, you could just make another! they're a pathetic child anyway! so meek and naive, how can they possibly live up to their parents' names?"

kaeya gritted his teeth, jaw and fists clenched, shooting up from his seat that pushed his chair backward. but before he could even make a step towards the man, diluc raised his hand as if to tell him that he's got this.

agitated and confused, but kaeya knew better. he may not look like it, but he knew that something is brewing behind that void expression on diluc's face.

"they are nowhere as wonderful as your gorgeous wife! in fact, they're better off gone from the face of this world instead of having killed their own mother—"

a hand reached out from behind the bar, grabbing onto his collar and pulling him forward.

"—hey! how dare you touch me! i am a nobility!"

"say. that. again."

the man felt his whole body tremble at the sudden rise in temperature and the blazing vermillion eyes staring right through his soul, molten lava swirling in rage in those orbs, glowering down at him with the intensity of a bursting sun, radiating pure heat that will melt him right before he can even get close. despite all of this, his sweat felt too cold, traveling across his whole body when the hand around his collar tightens when he doesn't answer.

one can tell that he's completely sober and wide awake right now.

"did i tell you to stop speaking?"

"no—no, no, no, please sir you must understand—"

"oh, i completely understand what you're trying to say."

suddenly the world spins and his face is planted on the bar counter's wood surface with the strength of a person who has trained with a claymore more than half his life.

"but sire, you know nothing about my late wife and my child," diluc smashes a wine bottle on the wooden counter, the money's worth of wine spilling on the floor but diluc could care less. the wine may as well be the blood of this buffoon here. his blood is boiling, a concoction of anger and pure bloodlust spilling over the nose of the pot that makes him point the shattered ends of the bottle near the man's terrified face.

"you better listen to every word i say with that pig-headed brain of yours," his voice gets impossibly colder, dropping into a lower tone as he looks down with murderous eyes. "if i hear you utter my wife or phoenix's name, i will personally see to it that it will be the last name that you get to say and my face would be the last thing you see."

he goes over the counter while dragging the man behind him like a sack of potatoes with great force, ignoring the cries for mercy—even the people at the tavern avoid meeting his eyes. he is soon thrown outside the tavern, his fancy noble suit kissing the dirty pavements.

"never show your obnoxious face in my tavern again," diluc turns around, pauses, before looking back at the horrified man once more. "oh, and don't doubt my ability. i will know if you mention my wife and child's name again."

"good evening and welcome back, master diluc."

"good evening."

diluc shrugs his coat from his shoulder, letting adelinde take the cloth from him before turning to elzer.

"i assume that the documents i asked for this morning have arrived?"

"yes, sir, i placed the document right next to the sales report files in your office. everything else is ready to be arranged for tomorrow."

"good, thank you," he sighs in relief then turns to adelinde. "how is phoenix? had they eaten?"

"yes, they did request that we place a smaller portion of food this lunch and dinner. they claimed that… that they'd be too busy to study to eat that much."

"they've been awfully invested in their studies these days," elzer added. "perhaps i should schedule a time for tutor sessions?"

"no need," he shakes his head. "y/n had expressed a disinterest in being tutored by someone else."

he bids the two a good night, venturing through the hallways that he knows so well like the back of his hand, mindlessly skipping his room until he is stood in front of your door. the adrenaline and surge of emotions from tonight's shift at the tavern left a sour taste in his tongue, bile lumping in his throat at the words he's been trying oh so hard to forget.

the sheer audacity to tell him that you are nothing like your mother.

you are everything that your mother wanted you to be. you remind him so much of her that it sometimes sends his heart in a spiraling tumble across mondstadt's mountains. sometimes it hurts, sometimes it gives him a sense of peace to have you safe and sound, right beside him—a piece of what's left from his wife, a blessing and a gift. but mostly, it scares him that he might fail to protect you as well, like he always does.

but despite all of these, you also bring so much comfort to him that your mother once did.

you are nothing like what the man mentioned you to be.

finally, diluc's shoulders drop the tense posture it has been with after the encounter in the tavern, his breath more regulated and mind finally free from the malicious infestation it once held towards that bastard.

"y/n?" he quietly knocks on your door.

a few seconds passed without a response, he quietly and carefully turned the knob and pushed the door, noting that your lamp is still lit and the windows are still wide open, letting in the cold wind of the night.

"oh, dear," he sighed exasperated—yet the fond smile on his face says otherwise.

papers and books are scattered all over your desk, all kept in place by your folded arms and head that was sprawled across the wooden surface. your cheek was pressed on an opened book, a quill lying limp on your hand and inkwell dangerously close to tipping over your pile of papers.

you had fallen asleep while studying.

he approaches your slumped body, placing the lid on the inkwell and moving it to a safer area. before he could even begin to move you back to your bed, his hand paused all movement as he stared at your sleeping face.

you look so at peace—something that he wants to maintain for your safety. something that he risks his life every night and works hard everyday for. he would raise hell from the underground and bring blazing fire to the abyss if he had to—he would do everything to keep you safe. even if it means burning himself in the process.

"my little phoenix," he whispered into the night, a hand brushing the hairs away from your forehead. "you look so much like your mother."

willing himself to move, he carefully carries you to bed and tucks the blanket around you, brushing your hair so it wouldn't get in your face whilst you sleep. he tidied up your desk and closes the windows, checking around for anything to arrange before turning the lamp off and making his way to the door.

he faces your bed right as he closes the door, smiling at how you seemed to be deep in your sleep.

"you did well today, my little flame. good night."

the next day, you groggily thanked adelinde on your way to the kitchen for breakfast, muttering how terrible it would've been if your ink had spilled all over your books. your mind was still half asleep to discern her confusion.

ACT IV.

birthdays are said to be a day of celebration. the special day that you were brought to the world and into the lives of those that cherishes you, receiving gifts and greetings and spending the whole day with those that you love.

you don't like celebrating your birthday.

your birthday is far from special. you despise it. every year, you grow agitated whenever the day slowly comes and you have to prepare yourself to plaster fake smiles to those that greet you, before trying your best to convince your father to not spend mora upon mora for a single party. it's one of those rare times that you're glad that he's too busy to arrange anything, letting elzer to handle the task. the poor guy has to deal with your incessant request to just drop the party plans and lie to your father every time.

overtime, everyone in the winery figured that you just don't like celebrating it at all, and that's understandable. it's something that they understand without having to say anything, choosing to greet you with warm smiles in the morning and your favorite platter of food instead. the cake—which is something you actually do enjoy by the way—and the fake props stays though, diluc would be suspicious if he finds no sign that a celebration took place.

your birth stole the life of someone precious to the people around you, why should you celebrate it?

the only problem lies in the city of mondstadt itself.

you once made the mistake of venturing to the city to buy yourself something for yourself—no offense to diluc's gift but it's more often than not something that you're not interested in, you will never say that to his face though.

the moment you step foot inside the city gates, people bombarded you with happy greetings and inquiries about how you would celebrate, some gave you a free treat—you particularly love the flowers and small treats. they raise their voices in such an over enthusiastic way that it echoes in your ear like a broken phonograph. it's irritating, infuriating, and exhausting—but as a ragnvindr, you have to force the most polite smile on your face and give them the same fake energy they give you, ignoring those who stare at you in a way that makes your skin crawl.

you may be in your preteen years, but you weren't born yesterday—hah!—nor are you blind.

you were lucky kaeya was near that time and saw your unnerving smile. since then, you made a point of not venturing outside the vicinity of the dawn winery for a week after your birthday.

unfortunately, that's not the case this time.

"where have you been the whole day?"

you froze on spot at the sound of his voice—stern, strict, and cold. you hadn't expected him to wait for you, especially not when the manor is littered with strangers plastered with smiles and disgustingly sweet voices greeting your ears the moment they laid their judging eyes upon you. surely, he must be tired from all the social mingling.

you felt suffocated surrounded by these guests.

diluc had scheduled a banquet held in the manor the same day of your birthday, celebrating not only your birth but also the emerging business opportunities for the winery. it had been a while since the ragnvindr manor opened its door to visitors—your parents' wedding, specifically—so it's no wonder why all of these noble families were eager to attend.

hosting a banquet on our birthday, means your attendance is a must. diluc had once emphasized the importance of making appearances when hosting an event.

for the most part, you had been present from start of the banquet, saying your oh so called gratitude whenever someone greets you a happy birthday. but you knew better than to trust those excited grins and sugar-coated words. you hear them all the time, what makes them think theirs is special? within this kind of society, there's no room for being naive and gullible.

yet it still did not stop you from feeling disgusted and asphyxiated.

right in the middle of the event, your head started to spin from how crowded you felt. excusing yourself was easy enough, you know the right words to say. escaping the manor was tedious though, everyone wanted to greet the young ragnvindr, but you successfully made it to the back porch where you found yourself hiding away from the monsters making themselves feel at home in a house that was supposed to be your safe place.

the comfort outside was soon disrupted when one of the maids found you, panic stricken on her face as she relayed to you that the banquet had been dismissed hours ago and your father was not pleased with how you ditched the event.

"y/n, i asked you a question."

his voice sounded louder than before, you can conclude that your silence was not what he was looking forward to, nor is any excuse you'd make on the spot.

"apologies," you will yourself to speak loud enough for him to hear, but avoid looking his way. "i got caught up admiring the view outside."

why is it so hard to make a lie on the spot when you're talking to diluc?

"the view outside?" you can hear the confusion in his voice. "the view outside has been the same since forever. what difference does the view have now that it made you leave the banquet meant to celebrate your birth?"

you dig your nails into your palms, biting the insides of your cheeks to refrain yourself from making a sarcastic remark.

"nothing, father. although i couldn't say the same for inside the house."

your mouth opened before you could even think of what you just said. well, there goes your attempt at a peaceful conversation.

i really should lessen the time i spend with uncle kaeya.

"inside the house?" diluc pushes himself up from the couch, arms crossed and his eyebrows furrowed. "i'm going to need you to expound on your words and while you're at it, why our guest claimed to not have attended any of your birthday celebrations that you and the other staff claimed you had hosted. elzer seemed to turn pale when i asked him about this, so i figured it would be better to ask you myself."

oh, he knows.

the look on your face confirms his suspicion.

"y/n, if you don't give me a proper explanation for your lies and sudden dereliction for your manners, know that i will not forget to address such topic unless you give me the explanation i want to hear—"

your head feels fuzzy, his voice is being muffled by the sound of faint ringing and your heartbeat in your ears, throbbing—pounding on the skull of your temple. your throat turns dry, lips parting to let you breathe as you felt the suffocating atmosphere from earlier once again.

never have you felt such a bubbling feeling of frustration and heaviness directed towards your father.

"yes, i lied."

"i am aware," he clicks his tongue at the nonchalant way you spoke—the sound wasn't that loud yet it echoed in your ears painfully.

the way he spoke sent your mind reeling with insecurities. your fear of disappointing the one person you strive to get to acknowledge you in the slightest prickling your skin with hot iron, as if engraving the tone of his voice in your head.

disappointing and shameful.

but something snapped inside of you when the circumstance has settled in, when the past occurrence whipped in front of your eyes in a single moment, along with the emotions that came crashing on you, recalling every little bit of effort you put through to get to him.

is it… really necessary for me to do something and be someone of distinction to deserve my father's recognition?

suddenly, you couldn't stop your mouth from spitting fire.

"in fact, i've been lying to you and myself, father."

cold silence flooded the room at your words, but you willed yourself to gaze upon his bewildered face, a hint of pain behind those familiar vermillion eyes of his. if he had looked at you this way any other day, you would've done anything to clear yourself of confusion to appease him.

but this is no any other day.

"what are you trying to tell me, phoenix?"

your mind is too fogged with frustration and everything you have suppressed to be delighted with the nickname he often calls you.

"why do you always insist that i celebrate this… special day?"

you watch him look at you, questioning, as if he wanted to ask why you wouldn't know such a thing.

"because today is the day of your birth and i want you to be surrounded with the people who want to bring joy to you," his tone seemed perplexed, wording his words like it wasn't obvious enough. "i wanted you to be happy on your birthday."

you almost want to barf the second he spoke those words.

"why would you even ask such things—"

“have you ever asked me what i wanted?"

diluc staggered backwards, mouth opening to say something but he paused, something akin to realization plastered in his face and he pales. his tensed shoulder visibly lowered, breath shuddering at your words that echoes itself in his head like a broken cassette.

no, he had never asked you what you wanted. he just assumed that you would.

but why, why did you kept quiet? did i really appeared like i don't care enough to listen to you?

"i didn't want to burden you any further with my preferences. i… i thought it would please you if i never complained about anything."

it was as if you knew how his mind works, answering with his unsaid question.

"phoenix," he takes a step closer but dared not to get too close. he felt like an invisible force, a wall, is hindering him from approaching your figure.

"to be acknowledged by you. it was all i ever wanted."

what?

"forgive me if i seem too… unmindful of my manners in an earlier banquet. i never meant to hurt our family's name like that—"

"that's not what—"

"i wanted to keep up appearances and stay by your side, be the ever carbon copy of the master of the ragnvindr clan. but tonight,"—your gaze lowered, as if embarrassed—"it didn't felt right. the crowd of people felt… suffocating. i used to think that it was easy to keep smiling to appease these people that i'm not familiar with. but i guess you just made it look easier," you smiled, although tight and forced, like the ones diluc uses for his business. a smile so unlike yourself.

it pained diluc to have you direct that kind of smile towards him.

"i never wanted these flock of people walking around praising me for their own benefit."

but you deserve all of those words of acknowledgement, you've done so much at such a young age. you deserve so much more.

"i didn't ask for this party filled with all these people that i've never even spoken to, not even once."

i'm so sorry my little flame, i never wanted to make you feel like a lone whale in a vast ocean.

"i never wanted to spend another birthday that would only remind me of how extremely lonely it is to be loved just for my last name, if they even love me at all—" you chuckled bitterly.

you don't know how much i love you my little flame, i would've gone to hell and back for you.

"—i never wanted to spend another birthday wishing for my own father to recognize me for who i am and actually look at me for more than just a few minutes and not just because he has to. all i want is to spend my birthday, heck it doesn't even have to be my birthday or any holiday, with my dad. just my dad. no one else. and i hope he also wants to spend just a day with me, not just because it's his responsibility."

i do! it doesn't have to be any special day, i would've dropped everything if you asked me to!

diluc felt his whole body run cold at your next words, eyes glistening with tears at the sudden imagery of the woman he loved in his mind, holding your fragile figure in her arms as she took her last breath.

suddenly, you seem so out of reach.

"i don't want another birthday where i wish that it should've been my mother and not me."

what… what do you mean? how could you say that?

wordlessly—with dull eyes that remind him so much of himself whenever he looks at the mirror when he was younger and angrier—you gave him a tired smile, before turning on your heels.

"forgive me for being disappointing, father."

say something, say something, idiot! do something! move, move, move!

he watched helplessly, unable to tear his gaze from your retreating figure.

do something for the love of god! it's all your fault, if you didn't stay quiet, if you haven't been distancing yourself, this wouldn't happen! you pushed your own child away!

his mouth parted to say something, but his voice failed to speak up. the tears that gathered in his eyes fell in streams, the image of your form closing the door blurry as he whispers his unspoken plea.

"please, don't take anyone else from me anymore. not my phoenix."

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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 4 years ago

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𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒘𝒆 𝒓𝒆𝒈𝒓𝒆𝒕 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕 2

Part 1

Hiii I don't know if you take request but can i request like a chris evans x reader like the reader and chris are married and chris is having a bad day or something so chris go out to the pub and go home drunk and its been going for 3 days and the reader and chris has a 6year old and the reader have been doing all the work and taking care of they're daughter and they're daughter miss chris bc chris is never home and just go home until 12 or 2 in the morning or if chris is home he never play with her daughter and they're daughter is sad abt it bc they're daughter though chris doesn't love her anymore and chris miss her play in school even though chris promise so that day when chris miss her daughter's play the reader confront chris abt it and chris said he doesn't care abt his daughter and he said he didn't know why he married the reader bc she's clingy but chris didn't know that they're daughter heard what chris said abt her and chris didn't know also that the reader is 6-7 weeks pregnant and the reader and chris heard they're daughter sob and that moment chris realize it all his mistakes? and apologize to them idk if this make sense and im sorry if this is so longg, thank you in advance stay safe! <3

𝒈𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: 𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒕

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒄𝒓𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈

𝑷𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: 𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒆𝒗𝒂𝒏𝒔 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓, 𝒅𝒂𝒅! 𝑪𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔

𝑷𝒍𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒆 𝒅𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒂𝒏𝒚𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕

Chris paced back and forth as he tried to call you for the 10th time. It was the next day, he was sober and the images from last night clouded his brain. Seeing the pain and anger on your face as he said he wish he never married you.

Seeing isabella crying from his disgusting words. That hurt him the most, he regret everything.

The phone went to voicemail again making Chris groan. You had every right to not talk to you, but he wanted to know you and isabella was okay. You were still his wife.

Chris sighed sitting down on the couch. He rubbed his eyes with his palm, exhaling for the hundredth time.

The house phone on the table beside the couch rung causing Chris to quickly grab it. He thought it was you but no, it was your doctor.

"hi is this Mrs Evans?" Chris frowned, "uh no but this is Mr Evans." Chris said, he was deeply confused.

"oh well you tell Mrs Evans that have her next appointment date to check on the baby."

Chris stood up, he wasn't sure he heard right. "I'm sorry, the baby?"

The innocence lady on the other side of the phone phone gasped, "oh I'm sorry, you didn't know."

"no it's fine." Chris sighed softly, his heart picking up speed in his chest. "I'll tell her, thank you." He hung up the phone throwing it onto the couch. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He mumbled to himself. He really needed to find you and isabella.

You laid in the uncomfortable bed, isabella sleeping soundly beside you. It was around 8 in the morning and thoughts from yesterday filled your mind.

"I wish I never married you"

"Forget isabella, I don't care about her stupid play"

It hurt just knowing he thought those things. It took some time last night, but you managed to go to sleep around 3am. Now it was morning time, you were in a crappy hotel, and Chris was blowing up your phone like crazy.

You sighed pulling back the blanket. You walked to the bathroom. You looked in the mirror, your almost 3 month along bump was showing. You tore your eyes from it looking at your face. You were trying not to think about Chris in that moment.

"get it together y/n." You whispered to yourself.

"mommy." You looked back to the doorway seeing isabella. Her stuff bear was in her hands as she rubbed her sleepy eye with the other hand.

"good morning honey."

You walked over to her, "did you sleep good?" Isabella looked up at you. "Yeah, I slept great." You laughed, "that's great. Uh do you wanna go get some breakfast? We can eat some pancakes and waffles, what you say bug?"

Isabella started to think, it was almost like you can see the wheels turning in her head. "Uhh yeah. Can we see daddy too?"

Your stomach did a flip, you didn't think she'll be okay with what he said about her, but She was 6 so maybe that was the reason.

"umm... Yeah, yeah. We can see daddy." Isabella smiled, "okay, I watch TV now." She walked back over to the bed, hopping in it. You exhaled, running your hands over your face. Here goes nothing you thought to yourself.

Chris phone ringing interrupting him from his daze. He picked it up seeing your contact. His heart picked up as he answered it.

"y/n, are you okay?" On the other side of the phone you sighed, "yeah, I'm fine. Look um isabella want see you so can you meet us at the diner at (some street name)?"

Chris nodded even though you couldn't see him. "Yeah, of course." He walked to the foyer to put on his shoes. "Umm, I love you." Chris said. He wasn't expecting you to say it back, but you did. When you did, his heart skipped and a smile formed on his face.

You hung up the phone. You let out a sigh once again. Here goes nothing.

You sat in the diner, isabella beside you coloring in the booklet they gave her. You both were waiting for Chris to come.

Your mind was filled, you couldn't even figure out what you were thinking about at all at this point.

After waiting a few more minutes, you heard the diner door open. In walked Chris. In his hands was a bouquet of flowers and stuffed animal. You were guessing it was his apologize.

He walked over to you both, just like yours, his heart was beating pretty hard in his chest.

"hey." Chris smiled shyly at you as you got up. "Hi." You tore your eyes from his, looking down at isabella. She was looking up at her daddy with a soft smile on her face. Chris kneeled down to her height. "Hi baby." He said to her softly. "I'm sorry for yesterday, I didn't mean any of it, I promise. Can you forgive me?"

isabella's small smile grew to a bigger one. "Yeah." Chris smiled at her. "Okay, give me a hug."

Isabella giggled as she Wrapped her arms around his neck. Chris hugged her close. He felt relived she forgave him, he felt so bad for saying what he said to her and he's going to spend the rest of his life making it up to her.

He pulled away from her, he handed the stuffed animal to her before standing back up.

He looked back at you. "Uh these are for you. It's not an apology, I'll give you a sincere apology later, but for now I have these." He looked at you, he had bags under his eyes from his sleepless night, and tear streaks on his cheeks from the crying he did.

you quickly tore your eyes from His taking the flowers. "Thanks." You cleared your throat. "Uh shall we have breakfast?"

Chris inhaled, "yeah." He walked over to the opposite side of the table and took a seat. You did the same sitting back beside isabella. You all ordered trying to forget about the tension that was very much between you and Chris. It was nice that you both were talking, but you just couldn't wait for the much needed talk later that night.

It was around 8 pm. You and Chris decided to drop her off at his mom's house. You didn't want what happened the day before to happen again.

You sat on the couch fiddling with your shirt end. Chris was in the kitchen getting you both something to drink before you talked.

"so um.. I got you some water." Chris said walking over to you handing you the glass of water. You thanked him Taking a sip before placing it on the coffee table. Chris sat beside you with a sigh.

"I.. I'm sorry for yesterday. I didn't mean any of it. It just slipped out because I was drunk and tired, I wasn't in my right head space in the moment and I took out on you and Bella and I'm sorry." He breathed out. He scanned your face waiting for you to speak. You shook your head, you didn't look at him but you spoke.

"yeah you're sorry, but you really hurt me. I wish I was never, that's fucked up and it hurts so much. If you never wanted to marry me why did you?"

You turned to Chris, tears threatening to spill over. The look on your face hurted Chris, he fucked up big time and he knew it.

"no, I didn't mean that, I swear. I love you more than anything. I don't regret marrying you, it was just a stupid mistake... I'm sorry baby."

Tears were starting to form in chris' eye. He felt guilty, he knew no amount of words could fix what he done but he was sorry more than anything.

"you promise?" You looked at him. Your lips were trembling Because of your crying.

"I promise." Chris said. He cupped your cheek with his hand. He placed a light kiss on your nose, but it wasn't enough for you. You went way too long without kissing him, you weren't going to waste another second not.

You grabbed his chin kissing him. Somehow his chap lips felt soft. They felt like home to you, you missed them so much.

You pulled away looking back at Chris. "I have something I need to tell you." You said fiddling with his hands.

"I'm pregnant."

Chris gave you a sour look, you already knew why. "You know?" Chris nodded, "the doctor called. they have an appointment for you, they want you to call them back to tell you."

You exhaled, "well... Surprise." You laughed making Chris smile. He missed that sound. He's been gone for so many nights he totally forgot how it sounded.

"can I come to the next appointment?" Chris pouted his lip making you laugh. "Of course you can. You need to your little peanut. I'm thinking it's a boy"

Chris frowned, "no I'm pretty sure it's a girl."

"you haven't seen them yet." You said to him Rolling your eyes playfully. "I know but I want another princess."

"touche."

It's not that good but thank you for reading. I had fun breaking y'all hurts on the first part lol

@chris-butt @patzammit @bval-1 @raveviolet @mrsbbarnesrogers-reading @enn-j @london-dreamer71 @harrysthiccthighss @captianamerica-is-bae @la-cey @weirdowithnobeardo @baby-i-am-fireproof @denisemarieangelina @evans713 @smyfmj @thereisa8ella @rororo06 @keiva1000 @ughitsnic @adriannajackson123 @marvelnaturalock @notyourtypicalrose @dummiesshort @onetwo3000 @hhiggs @katiew1973 @andreasworlsboring101 @skepticnovak @funfickgirl22 @hxnesthxneybee @christhickevans @melchills-j @franchesca-791 @moonlacebeam @wallowsgirl14 @areamir

@thevelvetseries @chaoticfiretaconerd @chrisevansgirl34 @a-moment-captured @shookbeech @pamelalur15 @llamaproblem @jessyballet @hazeljean2 @ohbarracuda @mrspeacem1nusone @n3ssm0nique @youthought-iwasa-nicegirl @chrisevanisliterallysir @beautiful--blessing @coldmuffinpartycloud @mylittlecrazyworldofinterest @writingmeow29 @corrinez

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagines

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mushroomkwan · 4 years ago

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Beauty and the Beast (M)

Pairing: Johnny Suh//Seo Youngho x Female! Reader//Soulmate/Hybrid AU of sorts this fic was a trip to write

Words: 3,186

Warnings: porn with some plot(idk how to just write a smut anymore oops), tiger hybrid!johnny, deer hybrid! reader, amateur writing(I haven't written in a year or two so it might be shit sorry y'all) size kink, praise kink, and some degradation but its miniscule, big cock johnny bitch let's be honest 😳👀, oral (female receiving), fingering, technically panty sniffing too, minor mentions of blood, unprotected sex (wrap it up y'all), breeding??

SYNOPSIS: Being in heat when you meet your mate is both ideal and horrific. Johnny shows you the latter isn't a possibility with him.

It's past the midnight hours, the sky a swirl of pale yellows and pinks filtering through the trees and startling you as it peeks through a sliver of the curtains in your den and onto your face. You wheeze as you stretch your body, your hands searching for the clothes you had laid out the night before, tucked onto your dresser along with the accessories you chose. Today was the day you had been looking forward to for weeks, and your nerves were all over the place. Hybrid society, separated from the very humans who created them, was ruled as a hierarchy, the first hybrid to become exiled had become Queen, and her children onward reigned. And today, you crowned the new King, Queen Seo Myeoryun's son Youngho, who had been a pillar of the community since he was born. And everyone likes a good coronation ceremony, so what was not to love? Well besides the fact that it fell onto the same day your heat should have started. It would be fine though, it only really hurts or is bothersome when you've found your mate, and you've yet to find yours. Without your mate, heats were just small cramps in your side and your sex drive goes up. It may seem cliche, but part of you wished it to be Youngho. He's a gentleman, he's ethereal visually and conceptually, and he makes you feel included at every social gathering, sending you drinks, and smiling at you from across the room. He had yet to come up to you though. And perhaps it was right of him to. There was still that stigma of predator and prey among hybrids, and you were a deer, timid, small, and a tiger's ideal meal. And Youngho unfortunately was a tiger. A very very....very attractive tiger.

With a sigh you pull the top around your body, a lilac mesh puffed sleeve thing, and throw on a pair of loose jeans as to complete it. To top it off, you put on a flower crown, smiling shyly at your reflection in the mirror beside you. You go out the door, surprised to find someone already waiting for you, his face frustrated and his striped tail flicking back and forth, annoyed.

"Ah f- Doyoung you scared me!" You pouted and hit a hand against his chest, him not sparing you a wince or pained expression, instead laughing at your feeble attempts to hurt him.

"We're late Y/N, they already introduced the host, which by the way we all knew would be Jaehyun he's the MC of every event ever." He sassed, but you grabbed his hand and ran toward the venue a block away, which was still quite the run. Jaehyun stood on the stage in a black and red velvet suit, smiling as he talked about the upcoming ceremony and how it would play out. You settled into a spot between Doyoung and Donghyuck, a pudu hybrid who was too busy on his phone to mind you sitting next to him.

"Do you think he's nervous for his coronation?" Doyoung turned his head and you looked at him for a moment, your gaze flickering to the stage every now and then as Jaehyun spoke.

"Please, he's Seo Youngho. He's probably known about this since he was a child, and is ready for it. He's confident too so I don't think he'll have a problem with being shy either." You blushed as you spoke, your ears turning down against your head as you thought about it. Doyoung eyes you and smirked, laughing as he came to a realization.

"Oh my God you do like him. That's literally so cute. You realize he'd probably snap you in half in bed though, right?" He made the dirty comment and you went completely red, stuttering as you tried to come up with a response, until Haechan cut in.

"You guys missed his speech, they're about to crown him." You gasped lightly as you looked to the stage and sure enough Youngho's mother was holding the crown, finishing up her own speech, and there he stood. Well shit. His hair was parted and his bright yellow eyes scanned the crowd with a smile. Such a charismatic smile, and those lips were just sin themselves. His suit clung to his body and he was wearing a damned corset vest over it. You were staring for too long, and he caught your stares. He looked at you fondly and smiled, his eyes twinkling as he waved. You smiled back and waved enthusiastically, cheering as he was crowned and the celebratory party began. Doyoung was no where to be seen, and you were hoping to find some time to finally talk to Youngho. You made your way to the bar, where you were surprised to find he was already there standing, him gesturing for you to come over. You gulped and walked over, your tail stood up in alarm. He was there in front of you close up, and for the first time you noticed he was blushing. You went even redder than before and he giggled, his hands fumbling with the glass in between them.

"How can I help you?" You giggled nervously, settling against the bar as he still messed with his glass awkwardly, his tail swinging back and forth uneasily.

"You know the whole thing with mates and first touches? How you'll know when you first touch?" He asks and you go still, nodding and trying to ease your rising emotions. He looked into your eyes and his hand extended.

"I need to know...if you'd allow me." He spoke again and you could feel the nerves radiating off of him. His eyes searched yours and you smiled back, your cheeks burning.

"I'd like to know too." And then you did it. You laced your fingers together, and a spark ricocheted from your fingertips to your toes and you gasped as a thousand emotions passed through you at once. His eyes glossed over and he pulled you into his arms.

"I always fucking knew it was you. Now so can tell Jaehyun I was rightfully obsessed." He joked as he sniffled, and you laughed wetly as some tears fell, burying your face in his chest. You heard a whistle and Doyoung stood there, a drink in his hands and finger guns pointed at both of you. You went to smack him but a dull ache in your underbelly stopped you, biting your lip as you settled for glaring at him, your tail and ears still moving angrily.

"It's not like I totally knew this whole time." He sassed and you smacked his chest, your cheeks turning red. Doyoung smirked and blocked your attacks, turning to Youngho, whose nose was turned into the air, curiously sniffing. He whispered into Youngho's ear and Youngho's eyes darkened with an emotion you could only describe as lust, his gaze falling up and down your body. You turned to Doyoung in confusion but he just pushed you toward Youngho, who ran an arm up and down your own. You shivered at his touch and keened into it, your body beginning to sweat feverishly.

Authors note: for the smut I changed the time-tense without realizing so sorry about that.

"Follow me? There's something I'd like to tell you." Youngho smiles and you nod, skipping along with him away from the celebration. It's only a ways away, his den, and you blush as your thoughts race with images of you and him together, your pulse seemingly moving to in between your legs. He invites you in and closes the door, suddenly against you. You yelp in surprise and he buries his head against your hair, sniffing down your body. You clench your legs together as his nose presses against your thighs and breasts and his scent runs through your own nose, your body immediately reacting.

"I wanted to tell you that your scent right now...it's sweeter than usual. Oh God you're in heat aren't you?" He practically growls the words and you whimper as you nod, your core throbbing with need as his body pressed against you.

"Please Youngho I need something." You whine against him as your hands rake at his neck, pulling him into a kiss. It's slippery and your tongue circles his fangs as he holds your hips in his hands and sucks on your lower lip, pulling away to put his forehead against yours.

"Johnny. Call me Johnny, baby." You wiggle impatiently against him and he picks you up, your body already bucking towards him as your core tightens around nothing. To best describe, it's a burning feeling, like every synapse in your brain is screaming at you to get something, anything.

"Such a needy girl, you're falling apart in my hands and I haven't even began to touch you." He kisses you and you're only just aware that you're pressed against the doorframe of what you can only assume is his room.

"Johnny, please take my clothes off. It's too hot." You pant breathlessly and he laughs, elated to get you out of your clothing, his ears up and at attention. His claws trail the fabric of your top, pulling roughly upward. You raise your arms and the top comes off with a swift motion, leaving your bra in it's place. You blush under his gaze, a hungry stare that makes its way to your pussy, the ache becoming more. You tug at his corset vest and he pulls it off and his dress shirt as quick as he did your own shirt, his abs on display. You ogle at his stripesnand press your hands against his chest as he attacks the side of your neck with his mouth, his tongue and teeth marking every surface area of your skin.

"Do you have any idea how good you smell right now?" He swipes his hand against your denim covered core, and you whine as you grind into his touch. With the sharp nail of his ring finger, he separates the metal from it's buttonhole and pulls your pants down. You step out of them and he scoops you up as soon as your feet hit the floor, pushing you against the bed. You gasp and moan as his fingers trail your sides, his claws leaving marks against your skin. The pain is nice though, and it drives you crazy with how gentle he scratches you.

"Johnny, I want you to...well won't your claws hurt?" You trail off in embarrassment and he presses his lips onto yours, staring fondly into your eyes as his arms cradle you.

"Don't worry baby, they retract. I would never hurt you. But fuck, was that the cutest way you could ask me to finger you." He speaks gently, a growl ripping from his throat as he presses his mouth back onto your own. You moan against his lips as his hands pull your bra off, his kisses trailing down as your breasts spill from your bra, which he quickly tosses aside. His hand, with claws now retreated into the nail beds, rubs you through your panties. He's amazed with how wet you are, your underwear almost sticks to you with how wet you are, and your small tail stands stiffly despite being laid on. Looking at you as he presses his nose against your breasts, licking the middle of your chest and teething against your skin. His fingers hook under your panties and he revels in how warm you are, pressing the heel of his palm to the very top of your entrance. Johnny begins to circle his fingers around your clit, as you shake under him. With one hand busy teasing you, the other kneads the flesh of your left tit, whines and moans spilling past your lips. You press your own palm against his cock, which strains against his slacks. He makes a guttural sound as you rub at the head through the cloth. He pulls his hand away and growls at you, and you suddenly feel so much smaller. So dominated.

"I have a new idea baby. You smell so good but I bet you taste even better." Without warning his nose presses into the very top of your panties, his fangs nipping at the cloth. You yelp in surprise and shudder as his tongue swipes across your panties, moans leaving your mouth as you bite down on nothing. Johnny gives a satisfied moan himself and peels your panties away from your body and down your legs, tossing them haphazardly as he sniffled once more, the tip of his nose brushing against your clitoral hood. Whimpering, you spread your legs shyly and he takes it as invitation, his mouth wrapping around your pussy as his tongue prods against your hole, which throbs for his touch. His tongue was long, you knew this from just his smile and him talking, but you weren't prepared for how helpful it would be until now. Johnny's tongue works against your clit, kitten licking as his one of his fingers comes up and separates your lips, his tongue picking up speed. You're a mess of moans and whines, your eyes looking reverently toward him as he tongue fucked you with determination and his finger enters you to the knuckle. You wince once, but the feeling is immediately replaced with curiosity. He brings his finger out and back, until he's created a pace that has you keening for more. He curls his finger and rubs against a spongy surface within you that you never realized felt so good. You arch away from the bed and sigh out breathlessly, a mewl wheezing out of you. Johnny sees this and knows he's found it, propping both of you into a better position. You lay on his left thigh, one arm supports you and the other is busied between your legs. He returns his middle finger to where it once was, curling in and out of you at the same pace before. Soon his ring finger too prods at your entrance and he ducks you with both of them, your hips bucking against his wrist. A pressure in your lower abdomen makes you bite your lip, gasping when Johnny curls his fingers and once again hits your g-spot. He prods at it for a little while more, but stops before you can fully come undone. Kicking his slacks off, he returns to you and hovers over your body, pressing a kiss to your forehead. You can feel his tail swipe against your legs as he speaks.

"I want to fuck you properly, but I need to know if you're okay with it. I'm...well endowed and don't want to hurt you." Your heart swells at his words and you nod as you bite your lip, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"My heat has made me slick enough and you've stretched me. I feel safe enough for it. Now please, fuck me." You take a deep breath as you look down between your legs at him, and he wasn't lying. It's harder than a rock, standing against his stomach with a bead of precum sliding down the side of it. He's cut, which you can't say didn't surprise you, and it definitely has girth to it. Perhaps it is five or six inches soft, but hard it looks to be seven inches. He pulls your hips closer to his and massages your sides as he positions himself.

"Be gentle with me? This isn't my first time but you're bigger than I'm used to." You blush embarrassed but he nods, pressing into you slowly. You grunt painfully as you're stretched, the tip of his cock almost touching your cervix, but not close enough to fully make contact. Johnny bends down towards you and kisses you hungrily, his tongue curling around your own.

"You can move now." You say quickly as you pull away from the kiss, and he feels his hips back, before pushing in again. You moan louder than you ever have, his cock prodding against every surface of your pussy, making you feel so full. Both of your bodies rock together and he growls out a low moan, gasping breathlessly with you as you both make noises as if no one can hear. Your arms wrap around him and scratch, your mewls bouncing off the walls of his room and the bed creaking back and forth.

"Fucking hell." He moans as he sighs out, his hips snapping into yours. You're close to tears with how good you feel, and those tears finally spill over when his fingers circles your swollen clit, his dick still sliding in and out of you.

"F-fuck cum in me Johnny. Please." You please as you cry from overstimulation, all your senses going haywire as you feel the beginnings of climax take you. Johnny bites into your shoulder as he fucks you, and you cry out in pain as his fangs break through the flesh of your shoulder. You quickly moan as he picks at the wound, breathless apologies spilling from his mouth. You kiss him to shut him up, and he happily kisses back. The coil in your underbelly becomes taut and you keen away from the bed and into him. It snaps suddenly and you're clenching down on him hard, practically screaming as your orgasm hits you like a tidal wave. You're shaking, but you ignore it as you use your legs to pull Johnny closer, deeper into you. He rubs soothing circles with his thumb against your cheek as he cradles your face, his orgasm nearing. His thrusts are becoming sloppier and your name is spilling from his mouth with other curses and gibberish.

"Are you sure you want me to cum in you Y/N?" Johnny falters and you pull him in for a kiss, biting his lower lip and waving your tail side to side.

"Please." You whimper and he bottoms out, a couple more thrusts before he is burying his face into your neck with broken moans spilling past his lips. Warm cum seeps into you, and he's making the sexiest noises you've heard come from a man. Johnny's forehead knocks against your own and he removes his cock from your womanhood, slumping against the covers and next to you. Both of you say nothing, catching your breaths as both your chest heave up and down. His arms wrap around you and pull you in, a small peck pressed everywhere over your face. One of his hands pets at your tail soothingly and you use your own hand to scratch behind his ears as you both become more and more relaxed. Your eyes are closing, but before you sleep you kiss him again and thank him.

"Thanks for being the best mate a girl could ask for." Your ears fall flat against your head as you blush and he chuckles, kissing your forehead.

"Same goes to you. I'd wish for no one else." And he pulls you closer, both of you tangled. And just like that you sleep, ready to tackle your heat again in the morning.

AHHH sorry I don't know how to end smuts but this is the first thing I've written in a while so please tell me if there were mistakes. but here you go!!!

#johnny suh #kpop imagines #johnny seo #nct smut #nct x reader #youngho x reader #johnny x reader #nct reactions #seo youngho #nct u #nct 127

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youngbloodbuzz · 3 years ago

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Well folks we made it, chapter 11. (Also we are doing this in parts because this chapter is a beast)

I'm not gonna lie to y'all.. I've reread the smut in this many times. Like everyone things got to angsty or sad during the reread: straight to the smut.

Okay, okay. Here we go.

I can already tell you this is gonna be long af.

"'We are delighted to invite you to the wedding of Danielle Clayton and Edmund O'Mara…' As though she could make the words true by virtue of repetition alone." Oof. Great mindset to go into a wedding.

Of course it was Jamie's name that broke her. God can you imagine if they had gotten married and Jamie had to watch that? I think that might have broken her.

"There was the reddened impression of a pillowcase against her cheek, and as she stood aside she rubbed at her face." This is such an adorable image.

"She was unused to this house's secrets, all the little ways it could entrap and expose — as so many houses did"

"Dani couldn’t shake the image. Of standing at the front of an aisle before a casket-like altar, on full display. Like being an exhibit in a glass cage, pretty and poised to make the worst decision of her life."

"Looking at Jamie scalded like a leap of electricity beneath her skin. Looking at Jamie was dangerous." This poor girl is ready to combust.

"It was not bravery. It was an act of inevitability."

"The bedsprings creaked slightly when Dani’s weight shifted forward, but otherwise all was silent, hushed." I love little details like these.

"Jamie’s eyes were shut. There was a furrow to her brow. Dani could feel Jamie's nose brush against hers, her breath a sweeping pause between them, a silent question neither of them could dare to breach. Jamie's fingers tangled in Dani's hair. A gentle tug forward was all it took and they were falling together again." I love the little parallels to the first kiss in the show. Even though it's a totally different set of circumstances you guys captured the essence of it. Bravo.

"Jamie stared up at her, eyes dark and near shell-shocked, still half-sprawled against the mattress from where Dani had pressed her back to the bed" Jamie's brain just broke.

"Hand over her mouth, Dani watched the door in quiet horror, dreading the turn of the unlocked handle — he would come in, she thought; he would see her here; he would know —"

"'Please tell me I’m crazy. Tell me I’m being selfish. Please, just - I just want to feel how I’m supposed to.'" Dani love, god I wish I could hug you.

"The very idea was terrifying. Knowing that Dani could ask her anything and Jamie would say ‘yes.’ Knowing that Eddie had spent so long asking as though questions were a tool, a means to an end. Knowing that she had spent so long trying to avoid them, trying to avoid this, that she was afraid she didn’t know how to do anything else." The differences 😭

"'Ask,' Jamie breathed. 'Ask me.'” I wounded if Jamie actually thought she would leave. Or if she was too scared to even hope yet.

"When Mikey’s voice greeted her down the line with a chipper call of, “Taylor residence!” Dani had slammed the receiver back down into its cradle and walked away, feeling jittery, feeling like she had just sprinted a half marathon." Sweet Dani. Jamie makes her feel like a teenager again. Also "Flora Residence"

"Dani could not shake herself of the unsettling feeling that he was much too large for their tiny table, built for an intimate two." // "How small he looked suddenly, shrinking back into his chair."

"Finally she reached out to grasp his hand. 'Eddie,' she managed to gasp. 'I can't.'" Brave girl.

"How small he looked suddenly, shrinking back into his chair, like a kid swamped in his father’s sweater and playing at being an adult." I love the imagery of this. So much so I read it aloud for my wife.

"'Are you -' he had to stop to clear his throat. 'Are you going to tell me why? Are you not even going to say it?'" I wonder when he started to suspect. If it was just a suspicion or if it was something he knew for a fact. And if he knew why did he continue with her. Maybe he thought/hoped he was exception.

"'You know,' she said. 'You must have known. You know me.'

And even as she said it she could see it in his face. The truth that she had so strictly denied herself for so long. The truth about her and them, the two of them together, and now the two of them apart." Ugh I feel for them both.

"Just tell me," he pleaded. "Tell me. Right now." I wonder who the first person she says the words to will be. I have theories but I'm keeping them to myself.

"Hands still twisted in the fabric of his jumper, Dani said, 'Jesus, you almost got hit! Are you all right?'" Thank you for not killing him.

"Which was how, fifteen minutes later, she found herself standing before Jamie's house clutching nothing but the last shreds of her sanity and her favorite saucepan." She must have been quite the sight to see.

Jamie was definitely a bit shook at her actually doing it.

"'- fry pan?'

'It's - It's a saucepan.'

'Right.'"

"'Not the morning I'm worried about,' Dani muttered." Sure Dani is going through it, but can we talk about what's happening in Jamie's mind. She is equally going through it.

"For a moment the mask had slipped; that was all it took for Dani to see beyond her own fear. Jamie inviting her in. Jamie being calm and charming. Jamie cracking bad jokes in an attempt to make her smile. Jamie, who was now watching Dani with the same breathless anticipation on her face from yesterday after Dani had kissed her. As though Dani could crack the shell of the world with a single turn of phrase." I absolutely love Dani seeing little glimpses into Jamie's heart.

"'Please.'

'Right. ‘Cause I have socks.'

'Jamie.'" She's so nervous. It's absolutely precious.

"She turned to watch Dani approach, her face too nonchalant, now that Dani was looking for it, now that Dani knew that it wasn't just her feeling this, that it had never just been her." ❤️❤️

"'It’s fine. Please just hold me?"

"- until Dani had to tell herself over and over that this was real, that she was real, that she was awake. Until she wasn’t."

This is a good stopping point for today! God I love this fic.

holy shit ch11 here we go THE BIG ONE

listen sometimes u just gotta binge read some smut for your health i get it lmao

we...May have a bad place alt-cfau that'll never see the light of day where ch11 goes up until the wedding where Drama ensues and dani's a runaway bride

this whole first bit of the chapter where everything implodes is just SO good. i think if either one of us had brought up actually killing off eddie in our dms it would've started a two person riot lmao

@romanimp

#asks #anonymous #cfau #long post

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mermaidsirennikita · 3 years ago

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Personally even though I know that's not how the industry works I would prefer adaptations of not super well known romances, or at least ones I'm not familiar with? If it was for example a Wallflower or Cynsters series I would be more invested amd therefore more frustrated with the changes they would make and the casting choices I didn't like. With Bridgerton, a book series I have never even heard of until it got made into a show I just don't care super much because I'm not invested? I have my problems with it for sure but I'm also not wracking my brain over how are they gonna adapt that and why are they changing that and people don't like the Colin casting I guess? Idk I'm mostly for the vibes.

The funny thing is that I actually am not a huge Bridgerton series fan lol--I legitimately would recommend 2/8 books and I didn't even finish the series before the TV show aired. (I think I was on book 4 by that time.). But I can't separate it from what it means for romance, and especially historical romance, and how it is perceived in GENERAL. Which honestly isn't fair to the original book series. So I'm just that bitch who can't judge it on its own. It's just... the first man that landed on the moon, you know?

And my gripes really aren't with it as an adaptation of the book series for that reason. I'm pretty good about adaptational changes. I'm sure I'd bitch if there were changes made to, say, a Wallflowers series adaptation that made it worse, but if things were missing (like for example Sebastian not giving Evie a warm brick for her feet) I could probably dismiss it as long as the big moments were there.

But with that being said, I super wish lesser-known series were adapted because then Maiden Lane and like, Lorraine Heath books COULD be adapted. If I had all the money in the world, y'all would get a Duke of Sin adaptation purely for the image of the Duke of Montgomery... existing. That dude was fucking insane. That guy would make Sebastian St. Vincent say "whoa there, too much".

#romance novel blogging

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naivesilver · 3 years ago

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Top five Pinocchio moments, go!! Be as long winded as you want you know i’m here to listen babey

* cracks knuckles * OH BOY, HERE WE GO

Since you specified I could go on for as long as I wanted, you're going to get the the extremely detailed version of whatever opinion I discover to have while I type this, as is apparently the case every time I answer a Pinocchio ask

Let's go, then!

(Under the cut because it got EVEN LONGER than I'd expected ajsdgfg)

1) Pinocchio's first night in the world

This is the scene that stuck with me the most when I was a kid and first read the book. There's something deeply haunting about the way Collodi describes hunger, and the stormy weather and gloomy atmosphere really set the mood when it comes to picturing this kid (who is fundamentally an asshole but also a scared little boy who's been alive for less than 24 hours) trying to navigate the world on his own.

Also, I've always been intrigued by the concept of him burning his feet and what comes after. Not only because it seems a cruel way to start one's life, but because the fact that part of his body can be ruined and replaced as easily as that...It's kind of mindboggling, isn't it? Pinocchio feels pain in an on-and-off way throughout the entire way, when he's being strangled and caught in a trap and not when he's being stabbed, but I'd wager having one's feet burned should rank above all that, right? Instead he sleeps through it, and doesn't even flinch at having new limbs attached to his body. And 8yo me already wanted to know if the feet would feel foreign to him, since they came from an entirely different piece of wood.

I dunno, I really wish I could poke Carlo himself awake and demand an answer sometimes.

2) The Land of Toys and what led to it

This might sound like an obvious choice, given how vocal I am about my love for Lampwick as a character, but I have been doing some thinking about it and I have even more reasons to mention it.

Sure, Lampwick is an huge explanation of why I would pick it - jackass boy is extremely lovable from the very first second, and his relationship with Pinocchio is both sweet and tragic at the same time. They're friends! Lampwick is his closest friends despite everything! I'm tearing up just thinking about it!

But also, the Land of Toys as a whole. I recently finally put my finger on why the Disney version of it left a bitter aftertaste on my tongue, and it's because they missed the entire point of it, as they did with basically every other aspect of the movie (except Figaro, Figaro can stay).

The Land is supposed to be an eerie, Neverland-esque place where children go to escape responsibilities. Lampwick and Pinocchio spent all their time eating their fill and having parties, making friends with everyone, not breaking down stuff. Pleasure Island was all about doing "adult", forbidden things, but it's hardly believable that a XIX century boy, on the cusp of being considered grown enough to take on grown-up duties and harder labor, would want to accelerate the process - they would hope to stay children a little bit longer, and pay the price for it.

I just wish this aspect was talked about more often, alright.

3) Pinocchio throwing a hammer at the Cricket

Y'all know how it is. So cathartic - I have never reached a high level of self-satisfaction comparable to that, except maybe when the disaster that was GOT season 7 rolled in and we were blessed with the hilarious "how do you answer these charges...Lord Baelish" scene, which had me hollering for weeks.

The Cricket is an asshole. He deserved it, and he didn't even fucking die for all that trouble. Let's move on.

4) Eugene's demise (and follow-up Fairy bullshit)

Okay listen. Listen. This sequence is infuriating. Your father has been lost at sea, some kids tell you the creature who took him could be close, you end up getting framed for (presumed) murder, nearly caught by police, almost fried like a fish, and your mother leaves you half naked with a foot embedded in a door all night and tells you it's your last chance at being on your best behavior??? And nobody says shit about it??? It's frankly ridiculous.

But Pinocchio's tolerance for pain comes into the picture again, and poor Eugene gets bludgeoned over the head for character development, and once I had a discussion with someone over the fact that while Pinocchio's nose grows when he rejects the fisherman's insults over himself, it stays the same when he says that he rubbed against a wall to turn so white, so the hypothesis could be made that the lying thing only works when he's saying good things about himself. That concept still lives rent free in my head, because it opens the door to SO MANY angsty threads of thought.

Also this scene validates my need to dump the Fairy in the river near my house, so. Way to ruin a child's life, bastard.

And on this thread...

5) The Fairy blatantly lying about her health (and failing in her attempt to make me worry for her)

We're towards the end of the book, and yet this woman won't relent on her idiocy. Isn't it wonderful when a mother sends someone to tell her son that she's on the brink of death, but it's just a test for him to prove his worth? Truly heartwarming /s.

But honestly, the point of this choice is that when I first read the book, not only was I really puzzled about this scene, but also the old Italian of the original story unintentionally makes it very funny. You see, the Fairy is supposed to be lying in an hospital bed (HA, I fucking wish), but the way it's worded makes it sound like she's "at the bottom" of an hospital bed, which has always brought to my mind the picture of this woman looking very small at the bottom of a bed that's as deep as a well. Very little has stuck with me as vividly as this image has, fifteen years and counting.

+ Bonus: Japanese-German cartoon Pinocchio being an ADHD icon

This doesn't count as it's not in the book proper, but in the Piccolino No Bouken show (my beloved) Pinocchio is homeschooled by the Fairy in her house in the woods instead of going to school which has inspired my own Lampwick fic on the matter, and there is a scene where this poor idiot is trying to sit through his schoolwork and not only his brain won't cooperate, but his legs start moving on their own and forcing him to run up and down instead. When I tell you that little undiagnosed neurodivergent me had an epiphany on that day...So many adaptations could NEVER.

Also the PNB Fairy is literally one of the worst versions I have ever seen, but I digress.

#freenklin-labby #ask meme #pinocchio #back to my bullshit as usual #ngl I probably have a list of adaptation scenes that live rent free in my mind as well #or a worst fairy ranking #I could go on all day #well not now bc I am so tired I can't even be sure this is correct english #but tomorrow

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kylorengarbagedump · 4 years ago

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Little Bird: Chapter 38 (NSFW)

Read on AO3. Part 37 here. Part 39 here.

Summary: Dangerops! Will it hurt baby top of his head???

Words: 5300

Warnings: I googled it and it's possible leave me alone

Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader

A/N: Watch me as I slowly descend into madnesssss come with me to helllll!

Hi, thanks everyone for your kind words last week, it means a lot. I feel very lucky and grateful to have support and love. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and that you are still enjoying the story. We only have a few left to go! I'm very excited to pull everything together, I hope I do it in a satisfying way.

I love y'all very much. There will likely be no chapter for the next week or two. Please forgive me, but I promise I won't be gone long. Stay safe. <3

Seconds ticked by. Despite the rapid beat of your pulse, you didn’t move.

You were petrified, stone in your bed, as your brain attempted to birth the words on your tongue, the words you knew you’d have to say, the words that would change your life forever. To say them to Johana, an invested second-party, was one thing. To say them to the father of your child, your Commander, your owner, your lover--that was something else, entirely. And if you had known he would have returned the day you’d told her, you would have waited. But it was too late for that, now.

Sighing, you stared at your belly. It was too late for a lot of things.

The familiar, powerful stride of Kylo Ren resonated through the hardwood, each step gripping the chambers of your heart, binding tighter as he drew closer. Your mouth was a tundra, frozen and dry, your throat knotted with one thousand thick fears. Another step, and another--your fingers dug into the sheets--another step, and one more--you focused on the ceiling, hoping he wouldn’t see you quaking from the threshold.

The door opened, and there stood your Commander, his broad shoulders flooding the frame, dressed entirely in black--a fitted, tactical jacket, a matching outfit that covered up to his neck, his leather gloves, and knee-high boots. His hair was mussed, wild with sweat, framing his face in a raven storm, and when he gazed at you, sparks of excitement snapped within his eyes. You went to swallow those thousand fears, and they lodged in your larynx, halting any sounds that could have hoped to form. He was a meal you’d been starved of for weeks--you wanted him to fill you, stuff you until hunger was only a memory.

“You’re here,” he said plainly, as if he hadn’t expected to find his slave in the home he owned.

You nodded. Despite it all, his presence let you breathe for the first time in days. None of the words you wanted to say seemed right. “You’re back.”

“A short detour,” he replied. “The Knights and I are headed to finish what we started.”

Blushing, you bit your lip to hide the smile that began to form. You couldn’t remember ever aching to be in someone’s arms. “You wanted to see me.”

His focus traveled over your body, shoulders falling. “You’re safe.” The knot in his throat bobbed, and he met your eyes again. “I’ll be departing shortly.”

“Oh.” You needed to tell him. He needed to know from you before anyone else that you were pregnant. With his child. Chin quivering, you steadied your breath. “I’m… I…” As you stared into him, you met a void. It stole every ember of courage you had. So you told another truth instead. “I really… I really missed you.”

Kylo blinked, head tilting. A muscle in his jaw tensed, and his focus drifted to the floor, shoulders crowding as he drew in air through his nose. He glanced at you, lips parting--and he wet them. “Yes.” Something flashed over his gaze. “Come.”

A distant tingle at the back of your neck. He turned into the hall, and you followed.

Trailing behind him, you cursed yourself. Two words--there were only two words that you needed to say, yet it seemed impossible to get them into the world, the mere notion nauseating. Kylo’s position had the capability to decimate you and your dreams for this child--to think of growing, nurturing, and bearing it for him to raise with another woman was horrifying. And perhaps even more horrifying was the possibility that he’d reject that future with just as much vehemence as you.

On its surface, it seemed ideal--an actualization of what you desperately wanted. But between you and your Commander, a baby became an ultimatum, a jagged iron ball in your chest. He would have to choose between you and Gilead, choose to free you or possess you, and in turn force your own hand with the Resistance. You did not want him to make you make that decision--you wanted this unborn child to one day know its father. And you wanted that knowledge to be more than a photograph in a textbook. More than seeing his name headlined in the news.

Through the halls and up the stairs, not a soul stirred. Johana had departed before he’d even arrived. It was difficult not to watch him move; even in his stride he was commanding, seemingly dictating to the air how much oxygen it could hold. And if that truly wasbwhat he was doing, it was working--your lungs grew hungrier with every step. His boots creaked the floorboards, naming your fear in rhythm, and when you reached the entrance to his room, you followed him in.

The door shut behind you, and Kylo moved past you, shrugging off his coat and stowing it on a hook. He turned, drinking you in, need pouring into his eyes.

“Your dress,” he said. “I don’t want you in it.”

Heat rushed your thighs. “There was nothing else for me to wear.”

He sniffed. “I know,” he said. “But now you’re with me.” A slight shift in his feet, his gaze raking over you. “Take it off.”

A shiver skittered up your spine, and you looked to your right, a dark oak cheval mirror framing your reflection. You imagined your stomach big and wide in front of you, red dress billowing with your burgeoning belly. Who knew how long he might be gone after this? Perhaps this would be the last time he’d see your body as he’d known it, before it morphed to a mother’s image. A shallow, self-conscious part of you bit its nails, forgetting the question of your future entirely, more concerned about how he’d perceive your changing figure. You shook the anxiety away--you could do it. You could tell him.

Kylo stepped closer. “Don’t make me wait.”

Your mouth dried, brain screeching to speak, to let it go, to just say it, say the words--

Another step. “You said you missed me.”

--just say the fucking words just tell him--

He stepped again, closer still. “Show me.”

--just fucking tell him that--

“Little bird--”

“I’m pregnant!”

Kylo stopped, paralyzed in place. You searched his expression, seeking anything that could be confused for comfort, finding nothing in the vacancy of his face--he only stared, a statue, not even bothering to breathe. Heart thumping in your ears, you shrugged, gesturing to yourself in resignation.

“I am,” you said. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence lingered, a suffocating unknown. Kylo’s jaw clenched--yet he still said nothing, still refused to move, still denied you the relief of his response. Holding a sigh, you folded your arms over your chest, meeting his unyielding eyes.

“Well.” You shrugged again. “That’s all I wanted to say.”

He blinked, and his fists furled, gaze roaming your body in something you could have sworn was divination. Air fled him. He swallowed.

“What, um…” You chewed your cheek. You wanted to explode. “What do you think?”

A long pause. He continued to scrutinize you. “I think…” He approached, peeling off his gloves, a malicious delight darkening his face. “You’re finally mine.”

You choked. His meant so many things, a word in purgatory, its intention tugged taut between the ether of heaven and hell. And it was true: you were his, wanted to be his in nearly every aspect of your existence except for the most meaningful and precious part, a part you hadn’t surrendered, your only source of sanity within the typhoon of your mutual obsession. He didn’t have your mind, yet, had not broken your will. A tiny, shrinking hope believed he no longer wanted to--but that same hope knew that at any moment, it could be dashed.

“But what’s…” Your lips trembled. “What’s going to happen, then?”

Kylo crowded you, stalked behind you to tower over you; he pinched your cheeks in his long fingers, forcing you to meet his glittering eyes in the mirror. You shuddered, stepping back to feel more of his solid figure. His enormity dizzied you, weakened your knees--against this howitzer of a human, you were a red and white shell, prepared especially for him to use up and spit out.

“Mm.” He reached down, still gripping your chin, and gathered your dress in his fist, exposing your calves, your knees, your thighs, until he’d revealed your underwear. Lingering for a moment, he hiked the whole skirt to your waist. “Hold it.”

Without hesitation, you obeyed.

“What’s going to happen.” A warm, smooth hand coasted over the curve of your hip, across the expanse of your naked thigh. “Your hips will get wider.” He squeezed the flesh, kneading it in his palm. “Thicker.” The word was molasses on his tongue. Leaning closer, he pressed his mouth to your throat--you whimpered, cunt clenching. He slipped between your legs for only a moment, choosing instead to graze your abdomen.

In anticipation, you lifted your skirt to your ribs. This hadn’t been what you’d meant. But

Kylo Ren’s power crackled from him like crimson lightning, a dragon strength that had been unchained now for weeks. It intoxicated you, fuzzied your brain with a creeping desire so terrible you wished for a muzzle. Unfortunately, you were without one. And it was consuming you.

“Your belly will grow with my child.” He caressed your stomach, reveling as it tensed under his touch. His gaze never wavered from yours, drilling you in your reflection as he rubbed you. “So round and swollen.” Soft lips skimmed your pulse, mouthing the quickening beat of your heart--a sharp, rough movement, and your dress was gone, the effort tossing your bonnet aside with it.

Yes, any discussion you might have been willing to have was certainly tabled, now. Eighteen days without his touch had left you raw, and your skin sparkled with it, a craving chorus in your cells. In this moment, fuck what being his meant--you wanted it. You’d be pregnant for 8 more months, anyway. For now, you’d drown in the delicious, vulgar words leaving your Commander’s mouth.

“And your breasts.” He snatched your jaw again, humming into your ear while he squeezed one in his big hand, thumb brushing your stiffening nipple, pleasure echoing in your pussy. His stare was ravenous, flaying you with hungry claws. “They’ll be full and tight and heavy…”

Breath hitching, engulfed in a deluge of lust, you wriggled against him, reaching to dig into his legs. Kylo stilled you, tugging you to his lips, rolling and pressing your tit. His tongue slipped into your mouth, and you groaned, catching the mirror from the corner of your vision--in your black bear’s embrace, you were his half-shucked supper, begging in silence to be devoured.

Kylo nipped your lower lip, pinching tighter to your chin, and you whined, jerking his pelvis into you, tongue fighting with his own. His kiss was hot, needy, selfish, his mouth working yours while he rocked his arousal along your backside. A strong hand pushed and kneaded your breast, twisting and pulling the bud; you gasped in pleasure, broke the kiss--and felt something wet seep over your skin.

The sensation nearly strangled you, and you stumbled back to his chest, meeting his gaze in the mirror, your eyes wide with shock. Beneath his lower lid, a muscle fluttered. He crushed your tit, earning another tingle in your nerves, another unmistakable damp blot in your bra. You squirmed in his hold, face hot with humiliation, chin quaking as the realization washed over you both.

Growling, Kylo tore the garment from your shoulders, popping the hooks at your back apart, and following that, he yanked your underwear to your ankles, tossing them with your boots before wrapping you back in his arms. He nuzzled into your neck as he watched you in the mirror, basking in the sight of your naked flesh before pinning you across the waist with his forearm, free hand cupping your tit, rolling and kneading it again.

You couldn’t believe this was happening; at only 6 or 7 weeks along, you knew enough to know it was rare that you’d be producing at all. But what was more unbelievable was how deeply it excited Kylo--his eyes dark, his grip possessive--and in turn, how deeply it excited you. His thick fingers tweaked your tender nipple, his breath catching as thin, white fluid trickled from the tip and over his knuckles--you writhed, tides of heat crashing over your skin.

“Stop.” He bit your neck in warning, licking his lips and squeezing more warm milk from your breast, mesmerized by the little forming creeks. The sight was tantalizingly lewd, inspiring fire between your thighs, making your cunt ache for friction. He sneered. “You like this, hm?”

Goosebumps covered half of your body by now. Why lie? “Yes,” you admitted, cheeks burning.

“Filthy thing.” He trapped you in his gaze, the hand at your breast skimming over your stomach, dipping into your slit, teasing your clit, sending ripples of bliss through your thighs. “Getting wet from me playing with your tits like this.” He stroked the now stiff, swollen bud, clear drops beading. “Is this how the mother of my child should behave?”

You shuddered. “I’m sorry...”

“Don’t apologize, little whore.” Kylo snickered, collecting a thumbful, and shoved it into your mouth. “Do your job and suck.”

Groaning, you sealed your lips and swirled your tongue around his digit, lids fluttering with the taste of sour-sweet fluid, blood swimming with perverted exhilaration. He continued to stare into you, now working your other breast, his pelvis still rocking, his chest heaving at your back. You bucked against him, a famished animal, grateful for the iron of his erection along your ass as your clit twitched--you weren’t sure how much longer you could go without attending to it. Purring, Kylo removed his thumb from your mouth and wet his hand in the milk that had spilled over your stomach, painting you with it before pushing his own fingers between his teeth and suckling them clean. A moan escaped him, and you echoed him, the sheer deviancy wringing you of sanity, and with that same hand, he seized your chin and pulled you into a rough, desperate kiss.

As he kissed you, he sank to his knees, taking you with him--he had you bound, groping at your sore breast, your mouth stuck to his, your hands still holding his hips. He growled, bit your lip again before smothering the column of your throat with kisses, pulling away to see more milk drip through his digits and over your belly. You shivered, and his back crested with desire; he released your breast, still holding your neck as he unbuckled his belt and freed his cock.

The heavy, thick length slid between your spread thighs, slicking itself on your throbbing cunt--you gasped, melting into him, dragging your folds along his shaft, fighting to keep your eyes on his in the mirror. Kylo sneered again, cranking your throat to the side and snatching a breast before biting the meat of your shoulder, cock pulsing when you whinged in delighted pain.

“Stroke me, slut,” he muttered at your skin. “Make me feel good.”

Your core ached, and with a trembling hand, you gripped him, watching his gaze darken as you glided your comparably small fist up and down his dick, clenching when it twitched in your palm.

He hummed in approval. “Good girl...”

Kylo continued to nip and suck at your shoulder while you jerked him, stare unfaltering, still massaging milk from your tit, soaking his fingers in fluid. His cock was so smooth, so hard, you wanted, needed it inside of you--you chewed your lip, trying to wiggle yourself flush with his frame. Grunting, he crushed you in his hold, and you squeaked in assent; when he resumed nibbling your throat, you passed your thumb over the head of his dick, coating the shaft with precum, stroking him faster.

“That’s right.” He was thrusting into your hand, teeth cutting welts across your neck. “Look at you. Dirty little bitch.” Smirking, he dropped your breast, licking your milk from his fingers before shoving them in your mouth, forcing a moan. “It’s been almost three weeks.” He reached the back of your tongue, and you gagged. “Do you think my cock will still fit in that little pussy?” Kylo left a long, lingering kiss to the underside of your jaw, spearing you with his gaze. “Is it going to hurt when I fuck you open?”

You swallowed and nodded, clenching around the very obvious nothing inside of you, tightening your grip on his hot, throbbing length.

“Good.” He bit your jawline, now. “It should hurt.” A sharp jerk into you, and you groaned onto his fingers, drool streaming down your chin. “Your cunt should only stretch for me.”

Lust clouded your brain; any thought outside of the demand for Kylo Ren’s dick ramming deep into your pussy had long dissipated into the air. This was salacious, disgusting, thrilling, your body completely in his service, about to be filled with both his child and his cock. Freedom be damned--in this moment, you were a vessel, and you clamored for him to vindicate you, to make your purpose whole.

Swiveling your neck, he kissed you, murmuring against your lips. “You want me?”

You nodded again, whimpering around his hand.

He pulled out of your mouth and dropped your breast, leaning back onto his heels. “Fuck yourself on my cock.”

Your cunt pulsed with anticipation. Nodding, you eased back, heat at your cheeks as you glimpsed yourself in the mirror attempting to situate yourself over his length. Kylo was stoic, observing you with only a hint of amusement in his eyes, and you took his shaft in your fingers, leading it toward your wet, aching core. Catching his gaze in the mirror, you lowered yourself onto it, seething as it split you inch by inch.

Kylo’s jaw tensed, and he sucked in air through his teeth, fists at his sides while he watched your tight pussy swallow his dick. You fought for air and winced while you eased to the hilt, his girth stretching you, stuffing you with a sting. Panting, you shifted your legs, feeling it full and warm inside your cunt, driving into the pit of your belly. You cinched around him, and he hissed in pleasure, stifling the urge to buck into you.

Locking with his eyes, you rolled your hips with slow, controlled movements, sliding up and down his cock, bracing your thighs. He pulsed at your entrance, spurring you on, letting him bask in the drag of your walls along his swollen length. In his reflection, Kylo’s cheeks were pink, his lips parted, his chest rising with steadied breath--he was hypnotized by the view of your cunt riding his dick.

“Good girl.” His voice was heavy with desire, and his hands moved to caress your thighs--not in assistance, but in admiration. “That’s it. I know how greedy your pussy is.” He squeezed you, gliding up your sides.

Quaking with hunger, you crept toward your clit, glancing it with a feather-touch--you clamped around him, beaten with bliss. But Kylo batted you away, humming in admonishment.

“I didn’t say you could do that.” He clucked his tongue, and you whined, rocking faster on top of him. “There we go.” Groping your sides, he caught a moan in his throat. “You have me inside of you. A part of me I gave you.” He shifted your legs wider. “You belong to me, now. This cunt.” Calloused fingers skimmed your clit, flicking it, and you squealed, slamming onto him, his dick twitching in delight. “These tits.” His free hand kneaded them, coaxing drops of milk onto his palm. “Even this nasty little mouth is mine.” Kylo snagged your chin, crushing your lips with his.

His tongue wrestled with yours while you undulated your hips, leaning into him until you were seated on his lap, pace quickening. Drawing in air through his nose, he traced circles around your clit, and you wailed into him, the stimulation tightening your pussy, soaking your walls. You bounced on him, kissing him in heated fervor, your bodies rocking in time as you chased his soft lips.

Kylo broke away, heaving, and whipped your head toward the mirror. His eyes were wild ebony, his hips canting with yours--and you could see it, see the root of his throbbing cock as it drove into you, see the slick coat of your juices along his shaft, see him rubbing your stiff nub. The obscenity of it shook you, and you gasped, climax building between your thighs.

“Little slut,” he purred. “You love watching yourself get fucked.” Faster friction on your clit, pleasure rushing you, and you groaned, unable to tear your gaze from the sight of him sinking over and over into your pussy. ”You’re going to cum for me, hm? I can feel it.” A jolt of his hips, shoving the breath from your lungs, and he swirled your nub, panting into your ear. “Cum on it, bitch,” he muttered. “Show me how you cum on my cock.”

Rapture ripped through you, and you quailed, attention glued to your pussy, watching it throb and clench and squeeze his shaft with every wave of ecstasy--and Kylo saw too, grunting behind you as you rode the rest of your orgasm, dick twitching with an urgent need to pour his seed inside of you.

“Fuck.”

He tossed you to your hands and knees, ignoring your wobble for stability in the aftershocks of your climax. Your head spun--you’d barely said a word since he’d started fucking you out of pure bewilderment. Between your tits leaking milk, the performance in the mirror, and the pure passion that had enthralled your Commander, speech had become useless. All you needed was his touch, his voice, his presence, and all you needed from them was their promise of oblivion.

You looked to the mirror--behind you, Kylo Ren was starved, his mouth dropped in anticipation while he lined up his cock with your dripping core. Strong hand burying bruises to your hip, he snarled and slammed deep; you sobbed in bliss, locking your elbows, and he grappled your hips, holding you tight and pounding your cunt.

The power of his thrusts stole your breath, quaked your bones, your cries of pleasure hiccuped by the rapid strokes of his hips. Kylo growled, his eyes trained on your ass, skin smacking skin with loud slaps--you were captivated, flames flickering in your belly, stoked by the sheer eroticism of watching him fuck your pussy. A hard, vicious plunge--you shrieked, and you could see him smirk to himself, his hair tumbling onto his face as he plowed you again and again, piercing your cervix, relishing in his domination of your body.

He met your gaze, huffing in satisfaction. “It’s going to get worse,” he said. “You’ll be desperate for my cock.” A shift, and he yanked your ass into the air, pumping faster, intensity shaking your frame. “You’ll be begging for it the second you wake up.” He wound your hair in his fist, popping your neck back to hunch over you. “I’ll have to tie you to my bed.”

“Kylo...”

“You wanted this,” he said, “you wanted to have something inside of you that’s mine.”

“Yes,” you said, because despite your fears, it was your deepest, most shameful wish come true, “yes, I wanted this, wanted it with you--”

“Fuck!” Scowling, he spat a fat glob onto the mirror right in front of your face. “Lick it up.”

You whimpered, the sound stuttered from the violent pace of his cock. “Kylo--”

He spanked you, and you cried out, his other hand jerking your scalp. “Lick it up if you want to cum again.”

You leaned forward, pressing your tongue to the glass, groaning with embarrassment and gathering his spit on your tongue. His dick was hollowing you out, rending you wide--you could hardly focus on the motion of your mouth as you cleaned his saliva from the mirror and swallowed it. Wincing, you collapsed into your folded forearms, shuddering with every painful thrust.

Kylo pulled out, and you almost howled in protest, but he was quick, flipping you to your back and angling the mirror to reflect your sweating, fucked-out face. He grabbed your legs and spread them, strangling a moan as he hooked your hips and drove back in. Keeping his pace, he wrecked your cunt, grip threatening to crack your pelvis, face contorted in a focused fury, black locks now strewn over his forehead and sticking to his reddened cheeks. His primal gaze ravaged you, wandering your body before stopping at your jiggling chest.

“Look at that,” he growled through his teeth. “How your tits bounce.” He wet his lips. “How full they’re going to be for me.” Inching forward, he hiked your ankles onto his shoulders. “Play with them.”

You grabbed your breasts, the flesh soft and pliant in your palm, and kneaded them, biting your lip, wanting to drive him over the edge. It worked, you thought; he bent closer, a voracious brute, pummelling your pussy, pushing deeper than you considered possible, wracking you numb. And as he did, your display squeezed fluid from your nipples, inches from his mouth--he groaned, loud, shameless, and latched onto your tit.

His lids shut in utter elation as he sucked you, liquid leaking from his lips, and he fucked you fast, chasing his orgasm, moaning into your chest. You wove a hand through his hair, scraping his scalp, the other still working your breast, lost in the sensation of Kylo suckling it. Somehow, in the wildfire of absolute depravity within his bedroom, he remembered what you’d earned--fingers fell to your clit, teasing and stroking it, and you choked.

It descended upon you--the promise of oblivion--as you found one breath, another breath, and then found yourself in the mirror, skin gleaming, expression wrought with pleasure, shaking with the pistoning of Kylo’s hips. And Kylo--frizzed waves spilled over your throat, his head burrowed in your breast while he nipped, sucked, sated himself on your tits. There you both were, a diamond fragment of unacknowledged utopia; a deceptive mirage, fated to fade in a sudden cold splash.

But you were in utopia, right now--and you disintegrated inside it, crying your Commander’s name, spasming as euphoria eroded your mind. You convulsed, climax pulled like buried thread from your skin, slitting you open and bleeding you of bliss. Kylo hummed into your breast, and then shoved back, pulling from your still-pulsing pussy, panting and fucking his fist.

“Fuck,” he said, straddling your waist. “Fu--fuck!”

Jets of hot, white cum splattered across your tits, arcing over the supple swells, decorating you in debauchery. He heaved, stroking his cock as it dribbled his release, lungs pulling in long, slow breaths, the both of you descending. You gazed up at him, ribs rattling as you floated in air, and Kylo smirked, two fingers scooping up his seed and your milk--he wrapped his lips around them, cleaning them with his tongue. When he was finished, he took that same hand, pried your jaw open, and spit the mixture into your mouth.

Writhing, you gagged, but he snapped your teeth together, lip twitching cruelly.

“Swallow it,” he said. “Swallow it all.”

The concoction was thick and slimy and bitter--your eyes watered when you gulped it down, feeling it slither down your throat.

Kylo was fascinated. “Mm. Prove it.”

You stuck your empty tongue over your teeth, humiliation singing your skin.

He grunted in praise. “Good,” he said, patting your cheek. “Good girl.”

A silent moment passed, and a sigh escaped him. He rose to his feet, crossing to the bathroom, leaving you splayed over the hardwood, smothered in sweat and semen. Beyond the threshold, you heard running water, squeaking of knobs--and then Kylo returned, pieced back to modesty, a black towel in his hand. You pulled your lips in over your teeth, snuffing the flicker of affection in your ribcage.

Face blank, he wiped you off, tending to you as if you were a window or tabletop, and not the mother of his child, not the woman he’d cuddled and caressed and kissed. Once finished, he met your eyes, blinked, and stood, tossing the towel into the clothes basket.

In the hall, the thumping of heavy boots--your heart raced, and you glanced at your Commander, who seemed unconcerned. A fist or mallet or something else hefty hammered the door, shaking it in its frame.

“Intel that Pryde’s camp is moving tonight.” It was a Knight. “We need to leave now, sir.”

Kylo huffed. “Fine.” The boots exited the hall, and he looked to you. “Get dressed. You’re coming.”

You blinked, sitting up on your elbows. “What?” you asked. “Why?”

His jaw stiffened. “Your condition.” He looked to the floor and found his gloves, tugging them on. “Your safety is only guaranteed in my presence.”

“Oh.” You couldn’t decide if you were overjoyed or terrified. You gestured toward your dress. “Should I…”

“No.” He moved toward the door and grabbed his jacket. “Find a robe. Be ready when I return.”

He slipped into the hall, and you sighed, shaking your head. There was still a conversation you had yet to have, one that you now dreaded even more than before. The return of your sanity post-fuck brought with it the return of your doubts, the return of your fears. Standing, you pulled on your underwear, shoving your tender tits back into your bra.

You knew Kylo had once sought to own you in totality, and you also knew now he saw you as human, that he had rejected your personal enslavement. But it hadn’t freed you from his desire to cage you within his world, to keep you in compulsory companionship, or to convince you of his philosophy. He still saw himself--and you--entangled in the talons of destiny, manacled to misery, an inevitable, fatal conclusion. What he believed your destiny, your role to truly be, you didn’t know--but you assumed he wanted to shackle you to it, whether you agreed or not.

The robe you’d worn after Johana had stitched you still hung on the bathroom door. You draped it over you and tied it tight, the hem kissing the floor even after you put on your boots. Gazing into the mirror, you saw a woman adorned with all of the trappings of domesticity, but denied its security, refused its warmth. No matter the intimacy you craved from your Commander, you could not exist as a family in the boundaries of Gilead. His child could not be born into its father’s hopeless home.

Kylo Ren would admit the existence of choice, he would cede it to you. Or you would take it, and abandon him to his despair.

The door opened. In the threshold loomed a black reaper, a spectre of nightmares, a masked monster. Your Commander, suited with his helmet, strapped with a rifle, stared you down from behind his visor.

“Come.” The distortion of his voice iced your chest. “We’re leaving.”

He turned, deserting you in his room. Panic deafened you, screamed in your ears, but despite it all, you followed. You didn’t know where you’d be going. But you suspected that once you arrived, there’d be no turning back.

#kylo ren smut #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren #kylo trash #little bird #handmaid au #fanfiction problems #IM VALID

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