#maybe ill just write it all out of order
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keicordelle · 1 year ago
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I want so badly to write a series of fics of post-Cazador Astarion slowly starting to explore his sexuality and experiment with kinks as part of his recovery journey
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ch1zzie · 6 months ago
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Forgot to post this here butttt
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Working on a welcome home animation and mighttttt take me a while
#the idea is just wally getting the barnaby plush and thats kinda it#i did plan this before when i ordered the wally plush (sep 8 2023) but didnt have the motivation and stuff for it#its inspired by the image of wally peaking out of homes side window with the text below “there he is!” not sure if its wally saying it#either wally noticed someone or someone noticed him but anyway#i saw that image and was thinking to make an animation of it instead of the “there he is!” text its going to say “he's here.”#i also realized i might need to voice that only line or even make sounds for the background���#i already was close to finishing background 2 (where eddie will be seen walking to wallys house) but my tablet died#grrrrrr#also unrelated but i wrote in my book todayyy (i never write at all) but hey its kinda fun to write my ideas huahahahaah#i plan on doing some research on welcome home and write it down (maybe even some theories hmm??) also doing research on the characters#just to try to get to know them more (cuz i have been crazy for them for AGES and still feel like i haven't done enough)#oh yeah CALL ME CRAZYYY butttt since the irl world sucks i plan on making little writings like im IN welcome home just because idk#more explaining and better ones on my tiktok vid description (user in my bio)#also i feel like things might be getting better for me cuz wowie i never thought id be animating again#but now all this motivation...so many ideas appearing...need to focus on one at a time...darn#HEY! 12 days till a break from the evil cell of educational purposes??? (school) FINALLY PURE HEAVEN I CAN BE FREE WITHOUT SUFFERING#welcome home#partycoffin#wally darling#welcome home arg#welcome home fanart#welcome home wally#7 backgrounds left to do...then ill have to animate...oh evilllll so evillll
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ninjas-and-coffee · 1 year ago
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Current Ninjago *wip* Projects List
Ninjago Arena: Ninjago but a Mortal Kombat game animation project
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NRB: Ninjago but i wrote a bad rap battle or like 3
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Darkleys Graduation: I made darkleys more serious and whatnot
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Animatics: Dont be Sad -Tate McRae (Morro) Rockstar - CallmeKarizma(Jay) Thot -Tokyo's revenge(Llorumi critical/joke)
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Art Projects that will take me 20+ hours to finish feat: Overjay au, Overlord Possesion type study??, Post-Possesion au(art and writing) Ninjago: WhatIf (art+writing). Other long ass art starts
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For all the people who didn't ask why i keep disappearing or why i mention a project you've never heard of. There's a lot. And I'm not even including the 17fic backlog. Ufkbfkabfakb.
Feel free to ask about any of these, I just answer asks slowly because of anxiety around disappointing people or just not having an immediate response. Or if they're compliments i just save them for encouragement.
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boxwinebaddie · 6 months ago
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hi uncle nina! sorry if this is kinda overbearing, but you havent posted anything today so i just wanna check in and make sure youre doing okay! <3
oh my god, sweetheart!!! this is not overbearing AT ALL! this is extremely thoughtful and makes me feel extremely validated. <3
i'm sorry for causing concern, but ty for being concerned about me.
because the school year is coming to a close, things around me at work have been pretty intense, so i've been tossed around like a ragdoll the past week and haven't had much time to write as a result. i also haven't been sleeping very well and rush a lot in the mornings, so i've forgotten to take my mood stabilizer the past couple of days which makes me v sluggish, zombie-ish and unpleasant in general. :/
...when i am like that, as a weird way of sparing you, i suppose, i try not to post on here too much because it feels quite shitty indeed for you to get a notification for my blog just to watch me bitch n moan.
however, i have taken my medication today and feel bad for fumbling kyle week...as we know i'm not really good at holding myself accountable or making deadlines. oddly enough, it's not that i don't want to answer my questions, it's just that other than not being able to really find the time recently, i just can't find the right...words?
( this ask is long and irrelevant, but read if you wish. ilysm. )
or, rather, i don't feel knowledgeable enough the subjects to answer? specifically in the areas of my tsot/tfbw styles and ncuniverses, i feel a little insecure because i don't know sp or the games as well as many other people do, so i'm trying to speed watch episodes/watch speed runs of the games online so i can at least keep some canon intact?
i also am finding that creating and understanding how high fantasy universes work is...difficult? lmao? also because i did crazy stuff with mutations and science and politics in my tfbw ncuniverse, that's also complicated and out of my wheelhouse...tldr: i have big ideas, but i'm not very good at backing them in fact or doing analytical stuff.
but...iiiiii need to, lmao. mental illness, but if i make a universe it has to be fully realized, it has to all make as much sense as possible, echo the canon, enhance it, feel real and be fluid...so if i'm not around too much it's because i'm trying to bolster myself with my sp knowledge ( ik, i'm a fake fan ) and watch/read/research high fantasy concepts and superhero/scientific fiction/dystopian stuff...so if anyone has any recommendations for me to watch or learn from in those realms, i'd appreciate it. again, this is intense...but i care a lot about my craft.
and specifically crafting something worthy of all of you, that makes sense, lives and breathes, reflects the show we love & is interesting.
ANYWAYS!!!! with that said, i got a cool ask about whether or not i have a gunslinger kyle? which? not yet? BUT YOU'RE A GENIUS BABY I AM SOOOOO ON IT!!! please let me cook and watch some things because actually, oh my god, i am very down. i'll update you. i might make a board to gather ideas, omg, omg, it'll be SPICY.
i got an ask about princess kylie, which, bless you, i am also still developing her character, i am going to pour over the books, watch some GOT, do some mapping out, watch some intricate dnd play throughs...and have some answers for you very soon: hang on, baby.
( she's little, bitchy, prissy and does need to be babysat, i'm afraid. )
got some on jersey i'm excited about! sorry for writing that ask meme about the sour skittles like that, again, writing has been trying for me lately and i had a concept that i wanted to share but wasn't sure how to express that. if you guys are alright with getting my asks in the form of notes some times i would appreciate it! anyways, keep your eyes out for some of those...if kyle week runs into next week, sorry.
idk...this is so long. all this to say...i'm really sorry? i haven't been a very solid creator lately, but i'm a little unstable rn. but i am working on it and i hope to be back on the horse by tonight and share my notes at least and show you guys how my brain is working.
in the mean time, please direct as many questions as you would like in the direction of riley, teri and ana who not only are epic writers but have been an epic support system/helping me get back into things.
thank you for caring, thank you for reading...keeping up with this blog and the questions and creating constantly is sometimes challenging, but very rewarding. i promise that i am not neglecting my asks or all of you because i don't care, its actually because i care very much and only want to give you stuff that is awesome and cool and well researched. so, again, just give me a second to get my barings and while it kind of eats at my bad bpd brain i might try and share stuff with you guys that's half baked because the feedback might help.
tldr: i love you, this made no sense, i'm a mess, but i am fine.
miss you and love you. happy kyle week.
-uncle nina
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cherry-shipping · 1 year ago
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GYEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE I HAD A CUTE DREAM W SANS >:D!!!!!!!! it was in like two parts the first was us just meeting and hitting it off right away which was fun and the other part was. nevermind im too embarrassed to not say it in the tags The tags r my safe cringe space The tags r like my house i live down there
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bonchobrick · 1 year ago
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Bruce Wayne + batfam trolling Justice League is a GO :D
(The other fics will b written in time, july is jus a busy month for me man)
I have a lotta fic ideas so yall r gonna vote which one you want me to do cause why not
1) a fic where tim is moving out after an argument with bruce and for some reason damian keeps following him around striking small conversations as tim tries to pack (he wants him to stay but isnt sure how to tell him)
2) A danny x tim fic which is basically a chickflick where batfam vote on who will get a date at the end of the night and no one votes for tim (little do they know the power of loser rizz)
3) A danny x damian fic where danny poses for damians paintings in his art club and they slowly fall for eachother (damian is crushing SO hard my son is head in hands in love)
4) A heavily inspired fic ill link in a sec where the Justice League have the horrible privilege to be caught having to save a obnoxious Bruce Wayne and his equally horrible family from shit tons of kidnappings (batfam let it happen for fun to bully JL and the justice league members sort of start to become fond of bruce and his idiotic charms)
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miifu666 · 10 days ago
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I finally drew LMK wukong... while also making him yandere because uh.. i like yanderes, we need more yan!Wukong content pls 🙏🥹 anyway Heres my rendition of what yandere lmk sun wukong would be like.. maybe ooc, ive only watched season 1...
Also not proofread— At ALL
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⋆˙⟡ — Cw : Yandere, Dub-con, ooc lmk Wukong?, art is wukong x oc but writing is Wukong x reader, not proofread.
I imagine Yan!Wukong to be the type who taunts you about his past actions, how feral and rebellious he was, able to defeat the entire heavenly army and scared the Jade emperor out of his wits just for existing in flower fruit mountain. This only happens when you disobey him ofc, you left the cabin? Denied his wants to feed you himself? Maybe its time to remind you who he is
" See how i was back then? I was a Savage, untamed even if i had that stupid crown around my head. You wouldn't want me to be like that now do you, Peaches? "
He's a sweetheart, Patience and Virtue is a thing he learned the most during his years of living. Yet, unpredictability is also his nature. Especially as a monkey king. There are times when he would tolerate you acting bratty, a bit Defiant is all fun, but when the day comes where he's fought too many Yaoguais, Demons, and Alike. All he wants is your comforting touch soothing him of his worries. The last thing he needs is your uncooperative attitude.
" Peaches... im not in the mood for this. Eat the food. Now. Ive been kind to you. It's either you eat the food or ill get rough."
Wukong is canonically someone who hasnt experienced any romantic nor sexual attraction, the moment he does. He doesn't have a clue on what to do. All he can think of is being in his monkey nature, which includes being possessive, territorial, dominating, and providing you with nutrients. He doesn't trust others enough to help him with his feelings, barely have the guts to ask Bajie if you're in a bad mood. He prefers to wait for others to give him advice (not that he'll take to account).
"MK doesn't know anything, he's a kid! He doesn't understand love like i do... like us adults do. Im doing this to PROTECT you, peaches!"
There might be times where he'll be more touchy than usual, conditioning you to feel comfort and used to his physical affection. Wukong is nothing but patient, he knows how to pavlov you into feeling relaxed once you feel his hands. You'll notice his punishments ranged from letting him groom you, mark you and finally letting him eat you out.
The euphoric bliss whenever he touches you or caught a whiff of your scent is tantalizing, Due to this, he prefers to be the one to serve you rather than you serving him. A king needs his Queen to bleed his heart into, not a concubine who perfoms.
" ah, ah ah~ Remember what i said? You either let me groom your pretty head or i might change things up a little..."
Wukong who gloats about the ring around your finger, making sure everyone. Even the heavens. Know, who you belong to. Theres no such thing as divine intervention, HE willed this fate, HE knit the red threads of fate till it spells your name. Theres an endless amount of love flowing through his heart for you, it seeps through timelines and past reincarnations. Even if your current life is done in this world, he'll continue on finding you. Binding you with him, gripping your heart so close till it beats in harmony with his. He'll make sure to leave an imprint of himself in your soul, even your future consorts needs to know him in order to understand you.
While you came from another world, your own destiny is temporary in his. Wukong will fight tooth and nails to defy the stars just to have you as his permanently. He'll create his own thread. His own happy ending with you.
And if theres anyone who dares to leak the rough details about your hostage love life... hes not known as the god of trickster for nothing
" if the moon and stars are reflection of the past, would they know how many lifetimes have i been loving you before our souls reconciled in this one?
Because i couldn't possibly have just learned to love you this much, all in this single lifetime"
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Artwork ©️ Miifu666
Writings ©️ Miifu666
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gothicgaycowboy · 3 months ago
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accidentally breaking aegon’s nose by riding his face too hard
I was finally able to write something short and sweet aren’t you proud of me 🤭? as always this is my modern aegon who’s parents are rhaenyra and alicent, hope you enjoy it<3 (1.2k words)
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You’d think by now you would know how to sit on your boyfriend’s face, but to be fair it wasn’t really your fault.
Aegon had been working you up all day knowing you would be too busy with work to get a moment away. From texting you every dirty thing he wanted to do to you, to sending you pictures of him laying in your bed with his half-hard cock telling you how much he missed you. You didn’t understand what had gotten into him. He’d always had a high libido but he wasn't usually such a tease about it.
Whatever it was though, it worked on you. You had gotten almost no work done, way too distracted by the spam of dirty messages. Just when you thought he was giving you a break, a familiar vibration pulsed from your phone. At that point you knew the drill, make sure no one was around before clicking on the notification.
Aeggs: he's so lonely without you :(
Accompanying the text was a photo of him; naked thighs spread wide, shirt unbuttoned revealing the chain that dangled around his neck, hand squeezing around the tip of his pink leaking cock as it dripped down his pale fingers.
At that moment you craved nothing more than to lick his hand clean, and suck the rest of his cum out of his beautiful cock. Your thighs squeezed together so hard you were sure they would be sore the next day.
You couldn’t take it anymore, so you may or may not have deceived your boss into thinking you were too ill to continue working. Faking being sick is something that everyone has done at some point in their lives—maybe not to go home and fuck their slutty boyfriends but still.
He didn’t even get a word in before you directed him. “Bed, now.”
He may not have been known as the smartest of all his brothers but he could follow orders like no other. By the time your clothes hit the floor Aegon was already laid bare before you. The sight he’d been teasing you with all day, finally within your reach.
“Don’t make me wait for it, baby,” a cocky smile graced your boyfriend’s pink lips. The fucking nerve of him.
“Me, make you wait? Me, tease you? Oh you’re gonna get it now.” You crawled over his body placing your legs on either side of his neck. “Put your hands where I can see them. You’re not allowed to touch me for that shit you pulled earlier, but I’m going to enjoy myself.”
He nodded obediently to your demands, clearly eager to get to work on your ‘punishment’. Without another word you plopped yourself down onto his waiting mouth, tugging his silver hair into your hands like a lead.
His tongue found its way to your clit quicker than it ever had before, causing you to jump with surprise. No matter how many times you two had sex you were always shocked by how fucking good he was at it. “Fuuck, Aegon,” Despite being in control this time you couldn’t help the submissive whines that spilled out of you.
The movements of Aegon’s mouth became more intense as his confidence tended to boost when you made ‘pretty noises’ for him—his words, not yours. His tongue expertly created a pattern of movements through your lips, dipping back and forth from your aching clit to your desperate hole, occasionally sucking at your bud until you could feel your pulse running through it.
He was like a man starved despite the fact that you had just done this very thing the night prior.
“You like that baby?” His question was mumbled against your pussy.
You sighed out of your nose just as upset as you were turned on that he was still so pleased to have you denying him any affection after the stunt he pulled today. “No talking.” Your tone was as harsh as you tugged harder at his locks until his face was completely flush to your cunt.
Still he persisted at his usual strenuous pace. You wanted to cry from pleasure, toes curling on both sides of your boyfriends head. Your hips began to rock at their own speed, meeting his mouth with equal eagerness.
“Yes just like that,” The vibrations of Aegons moans against you soaking core making it impossible to hold off your impending orgasm much longer. You were already so close and it felt like it had just started. Honestly it was a wonder to you how you managed to last even this long with how pent up you were all day.
“I’m gonna come, fuck,” Aegon let out a clear groan of encouragement underneath you. Unconsciously your pelvis began grinding harder against the Targaryen’s face, his nose bumping against your clit when it wasn’t being sucked between his lips. Your back arched as you visualized your peak coming to an end.
Harder.
Faster.
Pelvis meeting skull in a storm of passion.
Without meaning to, you slipped higher up your boyfriend’s face while grinding against him, desperate to reach your end. That’s when you felt it.
Crack.
You broke his fucking nose.
You acted swiftly, pulling yourself off him and making sure he was at least still alive. You gently tugged his face in your hands to gaze in your direction, getting a better look to assess the damage. “Fuck baby are you okay? I’m so sorry, oh shit—” his nose was leaning to the left side of his face with dark streams of blood leaking out of each nostril.
His eyes welled up slightly with tears in his waterline. “Why’d you stop?” Was the first thing out of his mouth.
You were completely blown away by his seeming lack of concern for his own safety. “You’re fucking joking right? Aegon, I broke your nose!”
“Yeah but you were almost done anyway.” He defended, looking more upset that you didn’t come than his bloodied nose.
A smile grew across your lips. How could one person manage to be so frustrating yet so cute at the same time? Your thumbs rubbed softly at the sides of his injured face. “You really are something you know that?” You laughed.
“Thank you.” He grinned before wincing at the pain of moving his face.
“We have to get you to the ER.” You moved away from him, running around the room to pick up both your clothes and dress yourself.
“But you haven’t even—” you cut him off before he could finish his stupid sentence.
“My orgasm is not nearly as important as making sure I didn’t permanently fuck up your nose. Get dressed, please, I’m going to get you an ice pack for that.” You pointed to the centre of his face.
He made a pouty noise but complied nonetheless, tugging some tissues out from the bedside table to absorb the blood running down his face.
You walked to the freezer, pulling out the cold compress. When you made your way back into the room you found a fully dressed Aegon who looked like the cat who ate the canary. You stood in front of him pushing the compress delicately against his nose. “What’s got you so excited all of a sudden?”
He smirk became wider. “Just thinking about how proud my mums will be when I tell them how I broke my nose.”
Your cheeks heated at his words. The image of his mothers mortified faces as he explains to them in detail how his injuries were caused entering your mind. “You’re not funny.”
“Oh I’m quite serious, they’ll be happier than when they found out I actually managed to get into a university without bribing anyone.”
You found out just how genuine he was being a couple days later when he dialed them up on speaker phone for you to hear.
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dark-fics-4-you · 10 months ago
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Keeping the Peace
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credit to @jadiwrites for helping write the blowjob scene
dark!Peacekeeper!Coriolanus Snow x f!Reader with a side of dark!Sejanus Plinth (only one scene for Sejanus)
Warnings: smut, noncon (dead dove do not eat), forced sex, forced oral (m!recieving), reader is held up at gunpoint, unprotected sex, degradation, slight spit kink, kidnapping, violence, misogyny, free use themes, abuse of power, power imbalance
The sky over district 12 was cloudy and grey the first time you ever took notice of Coriolanus Snow.
Growing up in the aftermath of the districts’ rebellion meant that you had barely known a life that wasn’t ruled by Peacekeeping grunts. Your memories before then were murky, you could remember a difficult life without many pleasures or much to eat, followed by periods of war, when food was even harder to come by.
You could remember countless faceless Peacekeepers blurring together, all of them looked the same to you. Just a bunch of capitol brutes who struck fear into the heart and souls of everyone in your district, yourself included. You had learned at a young age to never talk to, or talk back to, a Peacekeeper.
Even making eye contact with a Peacekeeper was never a good idea, any facial expression that implied dissent could be punished. After all, who would question the word of a Peacekeeper over some district scum, as they often liked to call you.
However, as you made your way across the market, trading some leather for food and purchasing several jugs of water and any medicine you could, you couldn’t shake the burning feeling that you were being watched, maybe even followed.
You glanced around the crowded market, trying to catch the eye of whoever might be watching you, but you couldn’t figure it out. You had convinced yourself that you had to be paranoid, that you were just working yourself up over nothing, when you finally spotted him.
He was standing several yards away from you, and despite the many people in the busy market, his cold, blue eyes were trained on you. This Peacekeeper seemed on edge, like he was hoping for a fight to break out just so he could break it apart.
You felt a shiver pass through your body, averting your eyes immediately to avoid any suspicions from falling on to you.
It had to be a coincidence, you catching him staring at you once didn’t mean anything really, but something about the look in his eyes made you feel profoundly anxious for reasons you couldn’t identify.
You spent the entire walk to your house glancing over your shoulder to make sure you weren’t being followed, and when you finally got to your house and closed the door behind you, even the safe walls of your home couldn’t calm your nerves for hours.
The second time that you took notice of Coriolanus Snow was a week after the incident in the market, but this time he got much closer to you.
You had been on a nighttime walk in the woods, trying to clear your head after the stressful shift you had just worked at the bar.
Your boss had yelled at your several times, threatening to cut your already measly pay if you messed up another order, but it wasn’t your fault that all the men who came into the bar harassed you so much that you could hardly remember if a certain order of beers went to the table where the red-faced pigs called you a whore or to the table of rowdy men that kept smacking your ass every time you walked by.
Unfortunately, you couldn’t quit. You and your family were barely surviving as it was, your mother too ill to work and your brother was too young.
You were so consumed in thought that you didn’t hear the rustling of the branches nearby.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to be out here this late, young lady.”
You spun around, fear shooting through your body when you came face to face with a familiar pair of blue eyes.
The peacekeeper towered over you, and your heart skipped a beat when he took a step closer. His helmet was gone now, allowing you a glimpse at his blond buzz cut.
“Don’t you know there’s a curfew right now? You could get into serious trouble if I reported you to my superiors.” The man’s voice was low and threatening, his eyes sharp and determined.
“I’m sorry,” you replied quietly, trying to make yourself sound as non-argumentative as possible. Fear was pulsing through your veins. You had heard about the kind of things Peacekeepers would do to the districters that pissed them off, and you were terrified of something bad happening to you when you knew no one else could take care of your family.
“I just wanted to take a walk. I’m not doing anything wrong.”
He took a step closer and your fear rooted you in place. Coriolanus studied you for a moment, his lips twitching into a scowl.
“What’s your name?”
“Y/N Y/L/N, sir.” Your heart was hammering in your chest. “Am I in trouble?”
“Depends, Y/N. Turn around and put your hands on that tree.”
“What?” Your eyes widened before nervously glancing around. You were still a 10 minute walk from the town, and 15 from your house. An area this remote was not one anyone would be visiting for hours. There was no one else around this late at night, and the cool breeze now gave you chills.
“Did I stutter?” He took another step towards you, crowding your space, and you backed away from him in fear. You didn’t miss the way that his hand came to rest on the pistol at his hip. “I said, turn around and lean against that tree, I need to search you for counterfeit goods.”
You had been searched by Peacekeepers before, but this was different. Before, it had always occurred in the market or the main square, but now you found yourself all alone in the dark, completely at the mercy of this stranger who held absolute power and authority above you.
You took a breath to calm yourself, trying to tell yourself that you were fine. That he was just going to search you and then let you leave. You turned your back to him and placed your hands on the large tree in front of you.
When he moved closer to you, chest practically pressing to your back before he had begun to search you, you took in a sharp breath. Why was he so close to you? Had the Peacekeepers always conducted their searches like this?
His large hands came to your waist, patting around the fabric of your clothes, circling your waist before returning to your sides. They trailed lower, grabbing at the cloth of your skirt before passing over your hips. His hands ghosted over your ass for just a moment before moving to your legs. It was so quick you weren’t even sure if it had actually happened or if you imagined it.
When he was satisfied with checking your lower body, his hands returned to your waist, climbing up the sides of your ribcage.
You yelped in surprise when you felt his large hands cover your chest, roughly squeezing your tits as he held his body close to you. This time, you felt no doubt at all about whether he knew he was doing. You couldn’t move, terrified of what he might do if you tried to break away from him.
You skin crawled when his lips pressed to your neck, smooth voice whispering into your ear, “just need to be thorough.”
He inhaled deeply through his nose, giving your breasts one final pinch before pushing you against the tree and stepping back.
You spun around to look at him, back pressed to the rough bark and eyes fearful.
He looked amused as he stared down his nose at you and you were both quiet for a few moments before he spoke again.
“Don’t let me catch you breaking curfew again, Miss Y/L/N.” His voice was cold and hard. “Now get out of here before I change my mind and decide to write you up.”
You shuddered at what it might mean if he caught you again, but you didn’t have time to think about it, because when he stepped aside to let you past him, you ran the entire way home, bolting all of the doors when you got there.
You came to learn through passing that his name was Coriolanus Snow. Several of your friends had experienced run ins with him before, but nothing like what had happened to you.
After the night that he searched you in the woods, you started to notice him everywhere. He must have figured out your daily and weekly schedule, because even though you had started to try avoiding him, he was always at the market when you went shopping and you found that he had been stationed outside of the bar you worked at every night you were on the schedule.
You grew to expect the feeling of his eyes following you everywhere, although that didn’t mean it unnerved you any less.
One night, completely exhausted from your shift, you exited the bar in a hurry, forgetting to do your usual sweep to scan for Coriolanus lurking around.
Wanting to take the shortest route possible, you opted to head through the dimly lit alleyway behind the bar.
“Get any good tips tonight, Y/N?” The voice from behind washed over you like a bucket of cold water.
You turned to see Coriolanus leering above you, blocking the way you had came, a triumphant smirk plastered on his face. The sounds of the bar were muffled but still loud and raucous, although the only thing you could hear was your heart beating quickly in your chest.
You cleared your throat, trying to hide the shakiness in your voice, “No, not really.”
“Mm, tough night?” He asked, voice lighter now, but it didn’t do anything to make you feel better.
“Every night is here,” you responded, nodding your head to the bar behind you.
“I bet,” the taller man answered, inching closer to you as he did. “Why don’t you pull out your wallet, sweetheart?” Although it was phrased more like a statement than a question.
“My wallet?” You repeated nervously, reaching for your purse slowly.
He grinned as he snatched the bag from your hands and started to rifle through it. “I mean, you said you didn’t make any good tips tonight, so I figured you wouldn’t miss ‘em.”
“But I need that money!” You huffed with frustration. “My Ma’s sick! She needs medicine all the time.”
Coriolanus chucked darkly, starting to grow annoyed, “You think I give a fuck about whether your Ma lives or dies?” He grabbed the handful of cash that you had been saving up for weeks and stuffed it into his pocket.
“Hmm, seems like a lot of money, Y/N. I wonder how a simple waitress could have made so much?”
“That’s my money I’ve been saving! I told you, it’s for my Ma, I’m just trying to get her better treatments, please!” You pleaded with him, tears beginning to form at your waterline.
He just shook his head, tsk-ing like he was disappointed in you. “First you broke curfew, and now this, Y/N? You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight. I’m taking this money and letting you off with another warning. Unless of course, you wanna give me a reason to search you again.”
Coriolanus towered above you, drinking you in with amused eyes and enjoying the frustration written all over your face, “How does that sound?”
You bit your tongue, rage boiling inside you, “fine,” you answered through gritted teeth.
He threw your now empty purse at you, before moving to let you pass. As you walked by him, however, his hand shot out to roughly slap your ass, and you could still hear his chuckles echoing off the walls as you ran out of the alley with tear stained eyes.
Two days after that incident, you returned home from a double shift at the bar to madness. You needed to make up for the money that Coriolanus had taken from you somehow, and now you were working yourself to the bone to try to cover for the unexpected loss.
You were shocked to find the place swarming with Peacekeepers who were tearing your home apart. You entered slowly, not wanting any trouble from them, but needing to check on your ma and little brother.
“What’s going on?” You demanded of one of the Peacekeepers, but you got no answers.
Well, not until an all too familiar face emerged from your room with something clutched in his hand. His piercing blue eyes found you immediately, but his face remained hardened. Your mouth dropped in surprise when you realized what he was holding.
“This room is clear,” he announced loudly, not breaking his eye contact as you watched him stuff a pair of your panties into his pocket.
A horrible chill passed through your body and you felt like you could be sick. Why of all people was he choosing to target you? What had you ever done to him to warrant any of this?
Your brother began to cry when they entered his room, and you hugged him tight, brushing your fingers through his hair and quietly singing a lullaby to calm him. You nervously glanced at your mother, who was seated in the kitchen with you.
“Y/N Y/L/N?”
Your head snapped to Coriolanus, who gestured for you to come over to him. You pressed a kiss to your brother’s head before standing and crossing over to him, making sure you kept your distance.
“What do you want, Coriolanus?” You hissed quietly, trying not to draw the attention of the other Peacekeepers.
“Got some reports of possible rebel activity taking place here. We have to check out any tips we get.” His cool response made you want to scream. You knew that he was lying through his teeth, the only people who even came to your home were you, your brother, and your Ma.
“You and I both know that’s not true!” You hopelessly pleaded with him. “Please, can’t you leave my family alone? It’s hard enough for them as is.”
He chuckled at your desperation, clearly pleased with the panicked response he was receiving, before barking at the men in your brother’s room to get out.
When he pushed you into the doorway of your brother’s room, your ma and brother cried out in protest, but Coriolanus yelled at them to shut the fuck up before he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.
“Maybe you didn’t learn your lesson the first two times. And since the other Peacekeepers haven’t gotten the chance, I think I should search you myself.” He pushed you up against the wall that you were facing, roughly pressing your cheek to it while the hand at the back of your neck clenched down.
This time he didn’t even pretend to properly search you, the hand at your neck immediately clamping over your mouth to muffle your protests, while the other groped your chest, plucking at your tits while you struggled in his grasp. He slid his hand under your shirt and bra this time, sighing into your ear when he finally squeezed the soft, tender skin of your breast.
“You’re so beautiful, y’know that, Y/N?” He whispered, and you wanted to be sick at the feeling of his fingers tweaking your hardening nipple. “With a little make up and some better clothes, you’d fit right in with the rich capital girls.”
A tear escaped, trailing down your cheek and you blinked more away. You felt impossibly trapped, frozen in fear and trembling in his arms. His hands came to your hips, pulling you closer and holding you to him as he rubbed his hard on against your ass.
His lips were close to your ear, “if you want to protect your family, you need to stop trying to avoid me.”
“Fuck you,” you whispered, against your better judgment.
At this he chuckled, and one of his hands left your hips, grabbing onto your chin, forcing your head to the side and holding you still as his lips smothered yours with a rough kiss.
And then he backed off, walking out of the room before he called off the other men.
You were still in shock as you caught your breath, staring at the space he was just occupying as you tried to collect your head.
Lips still burning from his kiss, you shuddered as you thought about what you might need to do to keep your ma and brother safe from him.
After they had all filed out and you took a moment to adjust your clothes, you finally left your brother’s room and took in the wreckage they had left behind. The house was trashed, furniture knocked over and papers scattered about everywhere.
Your room was the worst of all though, everything had been pulled out of the drawers and piled on the floor, your mattress was up against the wall, your desk had been toppled over, leaving anything on top of it to scatter across your room, and they had shattered your mirror, leaving a jagged piece reflecting your misery back at you as you stood in the door.
Your ma was a mess, crying and hugging you and your brother for an hour afterwards, repeatedly questioning out loud why they would do this to your family.
Unfortunately, the answer was all too plain to you now, although you were still too freighted to fully admit it to yourself.
For whatever reason, Coriolanus Snow had decided to stake his claim on you, and based on your previous interactions with him, you knew that it was only a matter of time before he would take what he wanted.
For a week, you were terrified to leave your house alone, always calling on your friends to ask them to walk with you too and from work or the market.
In those days, Coriolanus’ presence always weighed heavy on you, no matter how hard you tried to ignore it. Even having your friends nearby couldn’t stave off the fear that clutched your heart when you noticed Coriolanus stalking behind your group, always a good deal of distance away, but you knew that he made himself visible to you on purpose.
The feeling of safety became something of the past. Everywhere that you went, he was there, although he hadn’t spoken to you since he and his other Peacekeeping brutes tore your home apart. But that didn’t make him any less terrifying.
Even your house, which had felt secure and safe for so long was no longer sacred. It had taken days to clean up the place, and much of your furniture had been broken in the frenzy.
After Coriolanus had assaulted you in your home, you bartered with some friends to acquire a large lock to place on the front door of the house, but it still didn’t provide much protection when the peacekeepers could just break the door down.
Unfortunately for you, having that lock also didn’t do you any good if you forgot to use it.
After waving goodbye to your friend as you walked up to your door after a late night shift, you pulled out your key and turned the lock, leaving it hanging on the door and closing it behind you.
The first thing that you noticed when you stepped inside was how unusually quiet it was. Usually your brother would be at the door to greet you, even at this late hour, but he wasn’t there this time, and when you called out for your ma and brother, you only heard silence in response. Where were they?
Alarm bells started ringing in your head as you ventured further, and you had just stepped into the doorway of your room when you heard a heavy click and felt cold steel press against the back of your head.
You froze in place, staring ahead into the broken mirror across from you that confirmed who was behind the trigger.
Your eyes locked in the mirror, the cold resolve set in his icy blue gaze made you shudder.
“Didn’t I tell you to stop trying to stay away from me, Y/N?” He was angry, a lethal poison infecting his voice.
You couldn’t speak, your mouth was dry, and your mind was racing a million miles a second, but you needed to know that your family was safe.
“Did you hurt them?” You whispered.
“Not yet. Your Ma and brother will be fine. As long as you do what I say.”
You let out a shaky breath at the confirmation that they were safe, but your stomach still turned at his words. You were terrified of Coriolanus, and now that he had you completely at his mercy, you knew that he wouldn’t let you go until he took exactly what he wanted from you.
“You understand, yes?” The gun pressed to your skull harder and you quickly nodded.
“Yes.”
“Get on your knees, slowly.” You felt him move the pistol away from your head for a moment, and you turned around, meeting his eyes fearfully before lowering yourself to kneel before him.
Coriolanus unbuttoned his blue shirt, dropping it on the floor behind him. He looked at you expectantly and you realized he wanted you to unbuckle his belt. Your trembling fingers fumbled with the belt before reaching forward to unbutton his pants and slide down the zipper. He pushed his pants down his legs before removing his boxers as well.
He smirked down at you as you took in the size of him.
“Such a pretty girl,” you flinched when you felt one hand twist into your hair while the other brought the pistol to your temple. “But I think you’d look better with your lips wrapped around my cock.”
The hand in your hair tightened, pulling at your scalp and dragging your head forward.
Reluctantly, you lifted your hand to wrap around the base of his thick cock, nervously wetting your lips before parting them and taking the tip into your mouth.
Coriolanus pushed himself deeper, nudging the back of your throat and groaning lowly when your eyes flitted up to meet his.
You pressed your tongue flat to the bottom of your mouth, trying to make more room for him as he sped up his pace.
You closed you eyes, bringing every thought to controlling your breath as he pushed his cock to the back of your throat, in and out between your lips. The cooling metal of the gun barrel was still taut against your skin, trembling slightly as Coriolanus gritted his teeth above you.
"Look at that, you're relaxing for me, good girl." But where did your pretty eyes go? That wouldn't do, he needed all of your attention. The nails of his fingers dug into your scalp, and tears sprung into your eyes. Your muffled yelp reached his ears.
"You'll keep," a groan interrupted him as your hand tightened around his cock, "your eyes open, and on me.”
“Do....you...understand?" Each word was punctuated by a harsh thrust into your throat, pushing past your tongue and slamming against the back of your neck.
You pathetically hummed around his cock in agreement, nervously keeping your eyes on his, not wanting to give him any reasons to hurt you.
By the time he was coming down your throat, your lips were puffy from his brutal pace, and your tears made your cheeks slick and shiny. You gagged at the sensation, throat closing around his length as he spilled his seed down your throat. He held your head in place, choking you with his cock until you had swallowed every drop of his salty cum.
Coriolanus’ grip on the gun had tightened as he came and you fearfully glanced at it before meeting his eyes again.
When he pulled his cock out of your mouth, he was quick to drag you to your feet before tossing you stomach first onto the bed behind you.
Coryo finally holstered his gun, turning back to you and easily pushing you against the bed as he bunched your skirt up at your waist. He let out a low whistle as he admired your ass, reaching out a hand to grope you before giving the soft flesh a sharp smack, earning him a whine from you. You could feel your hips digging into the hard mattress that you had had for your whole life.
You struggled in his arms, but when his hand found it’s home around your throat and you felt his cockhead start sliding past your lips, you realized there was nothing you could do to avoid what was coming.
Coriolanus pushed all of himself into you in one slow, punishing thrust. You didn’t have any time at all to adjust to his thick length before he was gripping your ass tightly, canting his hips back and thrusting into you again.
Your gasps and cries were muffled by his large hand at your throat. The way he tightened his grip combined with the feeling of him stretching you out had you seeing stars.
His pace was brutal. Coriolanus had been imagining this for weeks, and after you kept yourself away from him the past few days, he wanted to make the most of the first time he fucked you.
Each time you tried to escape from under him, his large arms wrapped around you again, holding you in place as he snapped his hips against your ass, burying himself deep inside you with every thrust.
“Keep trying to get away sweetheart,” his hot breath fanned over your neck, and the blond drew closer to suck at a tender spot until you whined and melted back into his arms. “I like watching you struggle.”
Your stomach turned and you tried to ignore how weak your knees felt at the peacekeeper’s whispered threats in your ear.
Coriolanus pulled out of you, not giving you time to process his actions before he was flipping you onto your back.
Adrenaline coursed through your veins and you tried to break away from the terrifying man above you while you had the chance, but you were too slow.
The blond captured you again, throwing you onto the bed and straddling you as you thrashed against him. When Coriolanus reached his hand out again to choke you, you could feel your heart beating against his hand.
You flinched when he drew close to you, his nose practically touching yours as he forced you to look at his eyes.
When he pushed into you again, stretching you out from a new angle, you whimpered, trying hard not to let your lashes flutter closed.
Coriolanus reveled at the sight of your sweet, tear filled eyes meeting his as he split you open with his cock. The way that you trembled beneath him gave him a thrilling sense of control over you. He knew that you already would let him do whatever he wanted, but for some twisted reason he wished he had held onto his gun so he could press it to your temple as he fucked you and see the fear in your eyes.
Your cunt was pulling him in, squeezing and twitching around his length with every thrust. He could feel you getting wetter around him with every brush against your walls.
“You’re so tight, so wet,” he strained, getting distracted by the sounds of your cunt squelching with every move he made. “I need to fill up that pretty pussy, Y/N.”
At the sight of your eyes widening and your lips parting in protest, Coriolanus clamped his hand over your mouth before fucking you faster, groaning and cursing under his breath.
“Someone needed to- fuck,“ Coriolanus’ voice caught in his throat when he felt you clench around him, “someone needed to teach you a lesson about respecting authority. You should feel lucky that I was willing to.”
Begging and sobbing against his hand only spurred him on and he laughed at every pathetic attempt you made to push him off.
Coriolanus’ hand crept from your mouth to frame your jaw and he roughly squeezed your cheeks until you opened your mouth. The blond spat into your mouth and you gagged, your repulsion making your skin crawl. You wanted to throw up at the feeling of his spit sliding down your throat when you swallowed it, and Coriolanus chuckled at your disgust as he leered over you.
“You’re just a filthy district slut,” his hand returned to your throat, choking you harder than he had before, “and that’s all you’ll ever be, Y/N.” The venom and hatred in his voice shocked you, and the way he was thrusting into you was downright punishing.
You were clenching around him so tight, and the sight of your sweet, innocent face marred with so much fear was enough to send Coriolanus over the edge.
He slowed, groaning as he pumped you full of his seed, his cock still twitching inside of you.
After he pulled out and moved off of you, you tried to turn away from him, but his hand shot out and latched onto your wrist, twisting your arm painfully before forcing you to face him and firmly kissing you.
When he pulled away, the words that he uttered sent a chill over your skin, “Snow lands on top.”
The next few days were a blur as you blinked in and out of dissociation. Coriolanus had his way with you more times than you could count, never caring about your distress at him using your body however he pleased.
Any resistance you put up was easily squashed when he snapped back threats to hurt your family. However if he was in a really bad mood, he would brandish his pistol, pressing the sharp metal to your forehead until you sobbed, and apologized for fighting back.
You weren’t even sure how many days had passed since you first discovered that Coriolanus had your ma and brother thrown in jail.
Every time Coriolanus sank into you, you could feel yourself receding into your mind, trying to protect yourself from the nightmare you found yourself in.
During the days, he would go out to terrorize the people of district 12, and during the nights, he would return to terrorize you.
One night you lay in your bed, praying that your ma and brother were safe. You could only imagine the horrible things they could be being subjected to at the hands of the peacekeepers.
Your neck was sore and bruised, as were your wrists. Your entire body was aching with pain from Coriolanus’ repeated abuse.
When you heard the front door swing open, you tensed instinctively, closing in on yourself in anxiety. Hushed voices reached your ears and you craned your neck to try to hear better. They seemed to be in the midst of a conversation.
“I mean, don’t you think that maybe what you’re doing here is wrong?”
“Sejanus, if anything, you’d be helping the poor girl, we’ll give her food for every load she takes.” Your stomach turned at the disgusting way Coriolanus was talking about you, and the way his friend laughed along with him.
“And you’re sure she’s not going to try to tell somebody?”
“Nobody would believe her over a Peacekeeper, and besides, who will there be to tell? I have dirt on every officer in 12, if they tried to do anything to put a stop to this, they’d be taking themself down as well.”
The men were both silent as Coriolanus’ words sunk in.
“You promise you’ll actually help her out afterwards?” His friend, Sejanus apparently, sounded somewhat concerned, but clearly not concerned enough to report Coriolanus. “And she’s gonna get something in return?”
“Yeah, I’ll make sure her brother gets some candy or something,” Coriolanus chuckled and you heard the other man laughing too.
“Is she in there right now?” Those words had you sitting up in bed, fear clutching your heart. Coriolanus wasn’t seriously discussing pimping you out to his friends, was he?
You got your answer immediately however, when your door opened and you came face to face with a man you recognized as another peacekeeper. He seemed anxious, but after he noticed your state of undress, he advanced on you with the same sick desire you had seen in Coriolanus’ eyes several times now.
Your throat was dry and anxiety laced your words as you pleaded with him, “Wait, please don’t!”
“Shut up,” he growled, leering over you as you sat on the bed.
You tried to put up a fight, but it was all in vain. You really should have known you couldn’t take on a peacekeeper. Despite your attempt to run past him and reach the door, he easily grabbed you and shoved you back onto the bed. His hands pawed at your undergarments, throwing them behind him without a second thought before he removed his pants and stroked his hard cock.
When he forcefully pushed himself into your sore pussy, you cried out, tears pricking at your eyes and spilling over when he began to rock back and forth.
Sejanus was different than his friend in several ways. While Coriolanus had been rough and kept a fast pace, you found that Sejanus preferred to take his time, slowly pushing his cock into you as you trembled in his grasp. After the initial struggle, he was surprisingly tender and gentle, caressing your soft skin, pressing kisses to your breasts, and sucking on your sensitive nipples.
Unlike the blond, Sejanus seemed almost unwilling to meet your eyes, and when you protested or put up any resistance, instead of reveling in the fight, Sejanus just covered your mouth with his large palm so your yelps couldn’t reach his ears.
“I’m doing this for you, Y/N.” He whispered against your skin when he drew close, tilting his hips back so he almost slid all the way out before slowly filling you up again all the way to the hilt.
His words only made you feel worse. You didn’t want any of this, and when you grabbed his hand off of your mouth and told him as much, his eyes darkened in anger.
You whimpered when his hand came to your throat, squeezing harshly against the faded bruises.
“I’m not a bad guy, okay?” It was hard to discern if he was trying to convince you or himself, and after he slapped you for not agreeing with him, you nodded and tearfully responded.
“You’re not.”
“I’m not,” his hot breath fanned over your dewy skin as he repeated himself on a loop, thrusting his cock into your tight cunt again and again. “I’m not. I’m not.”
You whined when his hand came between your legs, swirling around your clit and stealing unwanted gasps from you.
Every drag of his thick cock against your snug walls mixed with his twitching fingers at your clit brought you closer to the brink or orgasm.
Tears fell past your eyes which were squeezed shut, and you whimpered as you came around him and he fucked you harder, fingers never leaving your clit.
When you came again, Sejanus kissed you for the first time, desperation and hunger evident in the way his tongue pushed its way into your mouth, swallowing your moans as his lips slid over yours. You felt disgusted, but also couldn’t ignore the confusing way you clenched around him when his lips first found yours.
Your third orgasm was close behind the second, tearing through you with force and Sejanus grunted at the feeling of your slick cunt choking his cock, fucking you faster and chasing his own release.
He cursed loudly when he came, shuddering as he slowly snapped his hips against yours to fuck his cum deeper inside of you.
Sejanus kissed you again before pulling out, quietly apologizing without meeting your eyes and then he was gone, leaving you exhausted and sore in a bed you no longer felt safe in.
As you lay there, trying to ground yourself and comprehend what you had just gone through, you couldn’t help but think of your mother and brother, who were being held in prison just because of the twisted infatuation Coriolanus had with you.
How different would your life be now if he had never approached you that late night several weeks ago?
And what was your life going to look like now that he had claimed his stake on you and was planning to let his Peacekeeper friends “share” you and take advantage of you whenever they pleased?
Hours had passed as you tried to think of any way out of the bottomless pit that you now found yourself in. Tears had subsided a while ago, but now you were just left with emptiness. You were still lost in thought when the door opened and Coriolanus’ large frame cast a shadow across your bed.
The grin he shot you after he took in your distressed state was smug, triumphant even, and the glint in his eyes told you exactly why he was entering your room at the early hours of the morning.
Tonight, you didn’t put up any fight at all.
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pomefioredove · 6 months ago
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Hiya! Do you think you could write something romantic and fluffy with Vil? I love him!
hi anon of course! I am so unwell about this man
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summary: being friends with vil schoenheit has its perks type of post: fic characters: vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, FLUFFY, mentions of food, friends to lovers huhuhu, maybe a tiny bit suggestive but also not really? lap-sitting and kissing
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Someone should write a guide on how to be friends with Vil Schoenheit.
It did not come as naturally to you as you would have hoped. There were times when he felt like a star in your presence, not the actor kind, but the heavenly body.
Bright, and burning, and millions of miles away. Even as he sat directly across from you.
"You're not eating," he remarks. The comment is not degrading, though it is tinged with curiosity. "Is it bad?"
You haven't even sampled the meal yet- something fancy and expensive that you likely couldn't pronounce. He'd ordered it for you.
"It's okay," you lie.
He either buys your excuse, or ignores it. Either way, he reaches across the gossamer table cloth and switches your plates without asking.
Vil Schoenheit Friendship Survival Manual, rule number one: always assume his judgment is correct, until proven otherwise.
You look down at the plate- some kind of vegetable dish. He urges you on with a nod, lilac eyes fixed firmly on your pleasantly surprised reaction when you take a bite.
Rule number two: his judgment is always correct.
"Better?" he asks, not bothering to finish your food. He'll likely get something else later. "You really shouldn't skip meals. If you were feeling unwell, you should have said so. I would've ordered something lighter for you."
"Sorry. Didn't think of it," you say, taking another bite of his meal, if only to appease him.
You're hesitant to mention that the heavy feeling in your chest wasn't from illness, and so you say nothing more.
"No need to apologize. Here,"
Vil delicately reaches across the table and dabs at the corner of your mouth with his napkin. You hate how light-headed such a simple action makes you feel.
"Better. And don't worry about smudging anything, I have a few new products I'd like to try out on you later,"
Rule number three: always accept his gifts.
"Thanks," you murmur.
You were starting to feel as if you really were ill, the way your entire body warmed in his presence. Vil brought out a feverish sort of stupidity in you that made outings like this a minefield to navigate.
How painfully cliché, you thought. Hopelessly in love with someone far out of your league, with infinite options, none of which you could even hope to catch up to...
It made these evenings together pure torture.
You felt guilty for wishing he wasn't such an amazing friend. Must he insist on showering you in gifts and holding your hand every time you cross the street?
But being in his bedroom is another, dirtier realm of guilt. Vil saw you as a friend. Platonic. Someone he confided in, who he took under his wing. You were allowed to see parts of him no one else had, and yet, you can hardly pay attention to what he's saying because you can't stop thinking about the way his lips look when he speaks.
"Did you understand any of that?" he asks, bending down to your level as you sit on his bed. On his bed. And you had the mind to be thinking about doing romantic things...
Rule number four: speak when spoken to.
"No, sorry, I've just had a lot on my mind lately,"
Vil clicks his tongue and holds a hand to your forehead, feeling for temperature. "And you're sure you're not ill?"
"I'm fine! Just distracted,"
He chuckles, walking across the room to peruse his vanity. "Hm... and what sort of thoughts have got you scatterbrained today?"
You can feel your skin burning again. He could tell, couldn't he? All these weeks of coming undone every time he so much as looks your way couldn't have gone over his head... could they?
Or perhaps he was just used to people staring at him, stumbling over their words every time he spoke. Perhaps you were just another foolish fan who'd gotten to know him before falling in love.
You couldn't help but wish that there was someone or something that would just tell you what to do.
Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.
Vil sits beside you, a small, wooden box in hand.
"I'm supposed to promote these next weekend, but I'm not sure about them, yet," he says, opening the lid to reveal a plethora of lipsticks that likely cost more than your existence. "I'll need your opinion, of course."
"Right," you murmur.
"And I'd like to try them on you, as well,"
"Of course,"
"And you're alright with that?"
You nod. Ever the gentleman, always asking for permission. He's been quite generous with his products lately, giving them away to you like candy. You're almost certain he has a full list of your allergens somewhere.
Vil returns to the vanity, delicately prepping, and then applying the first shade. It's a marvelous, metallic pink, with dark red undertones that make it a regal color. It suits him, and you say as much.
"Oh, you think so? I suppose it does compliment my eyes, although I'd definitely need to pair it with something darker, else it become too overpowering..."
He clicks his tongue, and then turns to look over his shoulder at you.
"Your turn. Come sit,"
There isn't another chair at the vanity, and you take that as your cue to awkwardly stand in front of him until he tells you what to do. He chuckles, amused by some thought of his that he doesn't share aloud.
"What are you standing there for? Sit,"
You awkwardly look around the space, eyes searching for a mysteriously hidden stool, something that should have been obvious...
He smiles. "Oh, don't be shy. We've known each other long enough by now, haven't we?"
You can't think of the right thing to ask, although your thoughts are quickly cut off by the sight of him gently patting his lap.
Sevens. If there were any time to wake up, this was it.
Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.
He's not joking, of course. Vil hardly jokes. And so, you awkwardly straddle his lap, facing towards him, and allow him to get a good look at your visage.
He holds your chin firmly, studying your features as if he hasn't already seen them a thousand times before.
"Stay still,"
He's going to give you a heart attack, and there's a little quirk in his smile that tells you he knows it, too.
You wonder what your tag at the morgue will say. Death by Vil Schoenheit?
He starts with your skin, commenting on how soft it's gotten since he met you, then your eyes...
...Once he's satisfied, as he always is with his work, he turns your head so you can admire the makeup look in the mirror behind you.
"Stunning," he comments. "But you're missing something."
You look back, eyes wide. Surely, he hadn't forgotten something...? That's simply not in his nature.
He smiles at your confusion. "Remember? You promised to test these for me?"
Right. The lipstick. You nod. "Yes, but, I thought you'd already..."
"Oh, I do like the color. I'm just worried about this brand," Vil says. He looks away for a moment, almost as if to summon his courage... what a strange expression on him.
"What's wrong with the brand?"
He turns back with a small smirk. "They have a nasty reputation for smudging easily. I wouldn't want to make a fool of myself next weekend, hm?"
His cups your chin again, bringing you closer.
Rule number five: do not fall in love with him!
He tilts his head to the side. "You don't mind, do you?"
You couldn't have shaken your head any faster, even with his grip on your chin.
"Good. Now, stay still. I think this will be a good color on you, anyway,"
He pulls you in with ease, letting his lips rest on yours for a second or two, before pulling back. Short but sweet, enough to make you feel like your entire body has gone numb.
He inspects your face, humming to himself...
"Good so far," he says, bringing you closer again. "But that was too safe. I won't hold back next time. Are you ready?"
You nod. Barely anything had happened, and you're already breathless. "Ready,"
Another smile crosses his perfect face, though he doesn't give you any time to admire it before he's kissing you again, one hand still cupping your face, the other holding the back of your neck and pressing you closer.
Definitely not a very platonic kiss.
It takes him longer to pull away this time, though when he does, it gives you a perfect view of his still-pristine makeup.
"Hmm... still nothing. I'm quite impressed with this line," he says, reaching behind you and returning with the wooden box. "How do you feel?"
Dizzy. Light-headed. Warm.
"Good," you say.
Rule number five: do not fall in love with him.
Or do.
"Not too much, I hope?"
A delightful realization was beginning to come over you, one that made all you had thought about him null and void:
No one else could possibly give you a guide on Vil Schoenheit, because he writes the rules himself.
"No. That was perfect,"
"Excellent," he smiles, and flips the box open again. "Because we still have six more colors to test."
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marvelstan0905 · 5 months ago
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Kenji Sato Love Languages :
Hiii🥺These are really random! I didn't exactly have a oneshot/imagine for this. I'm thinking about opening up requests for Kenji Sato but I'm a little worried I might get overwhelmed! Please let me know if you guys do want me to open requests :)Those of you who do requests, how do you manage? 🥰
[Hi guys! I did complete writing the scenario but i dont know why it deleted Words Of Affirmation/Gift Giving. Im so sad😭Ill write a part 2]
©all rights reserved. the modification, translation, and plagiarism of my work is strictly prohibited.
5 Types Of Love Languages :
Quality Time :
I think Kenji values quality time the most considering his dad wasn't around alot and his mom went missing so for him time is everything. If that makes. Despite his baseball career, tirelessly taking care of his baby Emi and his own personal struggles, I think he'd always try to make tome for his partner. Whether that be a short little call or a text asking if his partner ate not. Or even just inviting them over to feel the presence whiles he takes care of Emi.
Texts from Kenji : "Did you eat?" "I ordered lunch from that restaurant, you like" "You should come over. I don't mind if you just sit there but I'd really to see you"
Acts of Service :
To me, Kenji gives chivalrous gentlemen despite his cock and brash persona. I definetly think he'll open doors, pull out chairs or even those simple things like peeling his partner's oranges. [I know random🤣😭] but he's the type to do those things or even make breakfast, despite his exhaustion he's always trying to do something to make things easier for his partner. At times it gives nagging dad but he cares alot.
1. "You should eat your vitamins. I put them on the table" Kenji perists sliding the tiny plate of vitamins over to you
2. "Let me walk on the side of the road. I don't want you to get trampled by some random car" Kenji scolded you whiles moving you away from the side of the road. "Kenji..cars shouldn't be near the Paths or walkways?" You'd raise a brow at his logic as he placed his hand on your lower back to lead you away from the side of the road. "There's random things out in this world. You don't know..pigs could start flying"
Physical Affection :
Kenji for me seems like an angry kitten for affection. Almost like, he'll push you away only to pull the his partner closer whiles grumbling about how he doesn't like the affection. I think deep down he's angry deprived kitten of love. I think he wants lot of physical touch. I mean remember that scene where man's cuddled Emi..like stop🥺 I really think Kenji would find any excuse to have some physical touch.
1."Honey? Why are you linking our pinkies together? I'm trying to work here?" You'd ask whiles typing up some document for work. Kenji would simply huff and link your pinkies tighter together. "I just wanted a reason to be near you..you promised we'd be together forever..so I'm solidifying the promise"Kenji would reason with pout. You'd hum and stop typing "That doesn't make sense, babe" "Shh..just keep typing. Let me be happy"
2. You'd open your arms for cuddles and jump onto the poor man, only for him to tense up and gently push you away. Since you're used to such reactions, you just tightened your grip on him "You're in my bubble. Babe, get off..maybe not" Kenji grumbled but wrapped his arms around you knowing this was his safe space. "You're such a softie" "Shut up"
To be continued...
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shojizbae · 6 months ago
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Mothers Day
Spencer Reid x Reader
As the newest member of the team, everyone is shocked by your boldness.
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Everyone knew not to trespass when Las Vegas or Mental illness was a factor in the case. Everyone but you, apparently. By chance, the team's last case to Vegas was two months before your hire. Now, you were making very dangerous strides around a very delicate subject. The Unsub was suspected to be a man on a psychotic break and had begun devolving before the team had even been called in. Ever the overtly ambitious profiler you wanted to follow Spencer Reid for his ultra-secret contact.
"He prefers to go alone." My eyes met the dark brown hand on my bicep
"We really shouldn't be going places alone. You know the FBI minted the buddy system?" I shook him off
"I know, baby girl, but this is delicate. You just gotta leave it alone."
"Derek, you, of all people, should be aware of my incessant control problems."
"I have to agree with Morgan. This is something you need to let be."
"But you know I can't. Doctor Reid!" I darted off after him. He was tense, like the way people get when they hear a tornado siren and have to put themselves in their basement or put a mattress over their bathtub. He was preparing for disaster. "I truly believe it would be beneficial if I were to go with you."
"Would it be benefitting the case or your psyche?" He prods
"Well, both and neither." I readjust my little rectangular glasses, "As you know, I'm extraneously protective, to a fault. Also, I am working on my doctorate in psychology and I'm writing a dissertation on noncommutative disorder clusters. And I'm comfortable around disorders. Actually, I find it strange that when we talk about OCD, we call it a 'disorder' when people just like things organized in a particular manner." I snort to punctuate my rambling, but he only grits his jaw. "Aw man, that joke usually kills in my schizoid heredity focus group." He sighs as he tugs his satchel on.
"You need to stay quiet and low profile." He orders, and I know my dorky smile splits my face. He leads me to a big black SUV, where I take the driver's seat. He gives me directions, leading me from the way through town street and down some scary back roads. Eventually, we pass a sign that reads Bennington Sanitarium. He tells me to turn left, and we park in the back of the parking lot. He tells me to leave my gun in the car, and I follow him with my head down.
"So, who's this ultra-secret contact you have?" His stress seemed to triple, "Some fancy professor from Caltech?" He's being intentionally nebulous, I'm aware but there's some fun in playing nosy-cop.
"No, it's not someone who worked at Caltech."
"Oh, but a professor? Where'd they work, Burkley? Or maybe some school in Vegas. Let's see, there are not that many high-profile universities in Vegas."
"No, she hasn't worked in years." His voice sharpens in frustration, so I back down, readjusting my glasses, and licking the corner of my lips. We enter and a receptionist recognizes Spencer immediately with a big smile.
"Dr. Reid how lovely to see you. Have you come to visit your mother? She'll be ecstatic. It's been far too long." Oh, like mother like son. She must be a psychiatrist. I smile softly at the notion. It will be so interesting to see who and where Spencer came from.
"Thank you, Sheryl, how has she been."
"Well, she has her day, but mostly, she just reads. You know the book club started a new series." Sherly playfully brushes his arm and giggles.
"That's good."
"She should have just gotten out of therapy." Sheryl smiles and rakes her eyes over the young doctor. Finally, she makes eye contact with me.
"Oh well, you're new," she cheers in a vaguely Midwestern accent. You'll need a visitor's pass, hon." She gets one from a drawer and hands it to me. "So, do you work at the FBI, too, or are you coming to meet the in-laws?"
"I'm an agent," I laugh. If I were lucky enough to snag him, that would be an HR nightmare." Playfully, I pat his chest. He guffaws dryly as I slide the plastic lanyard around my neck.
Spencer leads me through the building, mostly there are elderly people playing chess or using oil pastels as nurses and orderlies orbit them. He leads me through a large living room past an Asian woman knitting. We find a woman with blonde hair biting her nails on the couch as she ponders something.
"Hi, Mom," He warbles. There's an extra beat between his greeting and her response. It's like she snaps out of a trance when she sees her son.
"Spencer, honey, what are you doing here?"
"Me and my frie-"
"Oh my goodness, thank whatever deities you deny the existence of; you're finally giving me some grandchildren."
"No, Mom, this is my coworker Agent (L/n). She and I just have some questions for you regarding our case."
"Well, at least sit down." She pats the space next to her, and Spencer obeys, "You too, young lady."
"Yes, ma'am." I take the only spot right next to him, and Spencer begins rattling off questions while his mom sits there with her hand under her nose. She sits and observes Spencer like no one at the BAU does. When he finishes contextualizing the case with her she stews on every word like his voice is her favorite song.
"So our first question for you is, uh (Y/n), you might be better at asking." He makes the wringing motion of cracking his knuckles, but no sound comes out.
"Um, mostly, the bureau is interested in the capabilities of delusion to overlap reality. When you are having an episode, do you recognize the difference between your actions and your perceptions?" I retrieve a legal pad and a fountain pen and click it theatrically. Diana keeps her hand over her mouth and inhales longingly through her nose. She points at me but doesn't look at me.
"You're a very smart young woman," She locks her eyes on me, "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."
"Of course, wagers are the drug of choice in Vegas, well that and alcohol and mostly any other drug you can think of." I correct myself
"God, you're so much like him." She looks to her son."Why aren't you dating my Spencer?"
"Uh," is all that dumbly spills from my mouth.
"You two seem perfectly suitable for each other. Is it because he's so skinny?"
"No,"
"Well, he's incredibly handsome and talented; even a pigeon could see he's intelligent beyond a lexicon." She rambles
"Mom, I think that's enough."
"Spencer, you haven't visited me in over a year, and how do you believe that's any way to speak to your mother." She reprimands me. Had the information not shocked me, I would have giggled.
"Spencer, over a year?!" I swat his arm, "You've had time off. Why wouldn't you come to visit?"
"Oh well, I've still gotten my daily letters," she pouts. But it's been too long, and I'm getting old." She begins to bat her eyelashes, and she holds onto his arm.
"I'm trying, Mom," he whined
"To visit or to get me some grandkids?" she sasses
"Mom," He groaned, and I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my lips.
"What about you, young lady? Do you have any kids??"
"No, ma'am."
"Why not?" I could see where Spencer gets his tunnel thinking.
"My career has made it difficult to go out on dates and fall in love," I admitted it was almost like Diana could extract the truth from me
"Well, then, date my Spencer."
"Mom!" he protested
"Shh! It's a win-win: I get grandbabies, you get dates, and neither of your careers gets in the way." I meant to retaliate, but her infallible logic knocked all the fire out of me.
"Let's finish up this interview and solve this case then we can circle back." I mitigated
Two days later, the case was solved, and we were riding the jet back to Virginia. Everyone had filed off the plane but Spencer and I.
"So, do you have any plans tonight?" It threw me further off guard than Diana.
"I was just gonna turn on Real Housewives reruns and cuddle cannoli." It was how I spent most nights.
"Would you object to a date?"
"Tonight?"
"We could watch the Real Housewives and hang out with your cat??"
"You want to do that?"
"It sounds much better than sweating in an overpriced Italian restaurant." He laughs and rings his knuckles
"it does, I think I have NBC, we could watch Star Trek after." I offer as we walk from the landing strip to the BAU. We made a sojourn at his home so he could shower and put on comfortable clothes. Two years later it would be cannoli to ring bear your wedding. Spencer would have to credit his mother who walked you both down the aisle simultaneously for your relationship and the whole team would have to agree.
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bitchfitch · 2 months ago
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My mother's bf had a fairly major surgery (he's fine and recovering well DW) and he's going to be housebound for his birthday this year, so I've been enlisted to come up with a fancy birthday meal for the special birthday boy that's primarily fruit and veg, sweeter than savory, and is something he's never had before.
Bc I'm making watermelington. It's beef Wellington, but watermelon. bc my mom only found out recently you can use watermelon as a tuna substitute. And I know that you can substitute most higher quality beef cuts with tuna or salmon.... usually. Anyways the idea fascinates her so I'm hoping to use that for bonus points.
Now he's off his ass on pain killers so I can't like. Ask him if he's ever had something before. so to meet my brief I've decided to just. commit a novel hate crime against the British I guess.
Anyways. I'm writing this because I need to walk myself through this process and think it'll be surreal enough to be worth taking y'all along for.
So, Beef Wellington. In its most basic bitch arrangement is a beef tenderloin wrapped in prosciutto/really thin bacon, with a layer of mushroom and onion mush, that has been further wrapped in mustard slathered puff pastry.
We will be ship of Theseusing this. bc beef Wellington is like. the opposite of what he wants. Which is why it's funny.
Puff pastry-> it's still just puff pastry
this one doesn't have to change (aka I can't be fucked to do pastry prep and I'm just gonna use store bought it's Fine.)
the prosciutto is also just going to be prosciutto.
Thin meat
Beef tenderloin-> watermelon,
Tbh this is a pretty 1 to 1 substitution. I'll bake the slices at like. 250-300 for an hour or so ahead of the rest of prep to dry it out a bit. bc you can't like. Sear watermelon to seal in the water like you can beef. By definition it's a very wet fruit (like me when I fall into the lake). Ill Add salt and chili and lime juice while baking maybe. this is the easy part
The mushroom mush-> salsa done bad style
As the word mush implies, this is meant to be a very soft mix. It adds a lot of nuttiness to the wellington that rounds out all of the salt from the meats. I'm replacing it with white person salsa(the birthday boy can't handle spice). Tomato, lime juice, parsley, avocado, cucumber, feta, and maybe mango so I can have an excuse to have a lil mango treat. I said I wasn't making it spicy. I'm still putting a bit of chili in it. bc it'll be better like that. This is also a ridiculously wet bit of mush, Even the original mushrooms have too much water. I'll figure something out.
Mustard -> jelly
He lives in a big city. those preserve sections are massive. I'll find a weird one. maybe apricot.
Prep:
We're in the mind palace kitchen, I have not attempted any of this. We're just thinking real hard about it and I'll edit as needed on the day and post results.
The watermelon
Preheat oven to eh. 300f? We want low and slow to dry things out without it taking a year. but idk what his oven is like. If it's gentle I'll bump it up another ten-twenty.
Slather some watermelon slices in salt chili powder and lime juice mixture.
bake for 30 min on a wire rack or directly on the oven racks (after cleaning thoroughly) if he doesn't have a wire rack. with a drip try underneath to catch the drippage. check frequently. Have one slice that's for being poked to see if it's approaching being meat. Bake longer if needed.
Salsa bad style
chop everything up and add it to a pan with some oil in it. Tbh I don't think the type of oil you use for cooking matters if you're not like, getting near any smoke points. Most people can't tell the difference unless you made your food bland as hell.
Anyways there's some wildly different moisture contents on the list so there has to be an Order to cook off as much water as possible without getting yucky.
Tomatoes and cucumbers go in together with some salt to get the cucs softening, then the mango chunks and lime juice. Once most of the water is gone the avocado feta and parsley can go in. There is a good amount of water in avocados but they're delicate and don't pan fry well, so we're just going to ignore their water crimes and hope for the best. They just need to be evenly mixed through the rest of the mush.
Putting it together
lay out the puff pastry, cut into sections to wrap each watermelon slice individually with.
Slather in jam
Take the prosciutto and lay it out on half of each section of the pastry,
spoon the salsa onto that
Melon
Another layer of salsa
another layer of thin meat
Fold the pastry over the top and pinch the edges bc watermelon slices are not a rollable shape and I don't want to carve a watermelon into a tube for this because that sounds irritating.
Brush with egg wash and more parsley
Cook in oven following the pastry's preferred temp and time. it's fucking watermelon, you're not getting ecoli from it.
watermelington :)
I'm serving it with baked sweet potatoes and spinach based salad with whatever toppings are left over from making the salsa.
anyways thank you for joing me on this thought experiment. I will post updates once the deed is done. I'm sorry to every British person ever.
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ithebookhoarder · 6 months ago
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Hiiiiiii, Could i request an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader fic where Anthony married reader who is from a lower class (basically like Theo) and they end up having a fight because reader did something that would be considered out of class or simply wrong while she’s trying to learn to be a viscountess. Sorry if it didn’t make any sense English isn’t my first language 😭😭😭
All's Fair in Love and Cricket (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)
Synopsis: After getting into a fight with your new husband you decide to settle your differences in a 'sporting' fashion, whilst reminding Anthony once and for all just who he married.
A/N: Ohhhhh boy did I enjoy this one. I'm sorry if it feels a little rushed or clunky in places, I may make some more edits at some point. I struggled with the flow of writing so much action but I loved it too much not to post it. So yeah, anxiety be damned else this would join the rest of the unposted drafts I have stashed away. I hope you enjoy it. 💕
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Warnings: Anthony being a stupid idiot, class references (discrimination), reference to illness 
Masterlist
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It was late summer and as the sun beat down on the green lawns of St James’ Palace the lords and ladies below began to wilt. Many a woman held her parasol above her head in a desperate attempt to remain cool, which was hard when you wore petticoats and had nothing to do but sit and watch the men play cricket for hours on end.
Even Her Majesty looked like she was struggling to make it through the afternoon's entertainment, her attendants desperately fanning her where she sat under her canopy. They looked close to melting in their ornate gowns, however they were clearly willing to endure if it allowed them to continue admiring the game - and more importantly, those playing it. It was like waving a bone in a dog’s face as they watched all the eligible young men of the court sprinting about the green, their physique and athletic talents on clear display.
No wonder the Queen had her opera glasses with her, despite her proximity to the field. 
You almost felt bad for them, watching as the men were subjected to the same treatment as the young ladies were night after night at social functions… hence the 'almost'. After all, there was a sense of satisfaction watching them preen and dance about like show ponies on display. That, and the view wasn’t exactly a terrible one when your husband was one of those playing. 
You’d have endured sitting on that blasted green a thousand times over, baking in the afternoon sun and surrounded by swooning women, just to watch Anthony Bridgerton as he captained his team. 
Being one of Anthony’s oldest and dearest friends, his competitive nature was well known to you (for which you had one too many games of Pall Mall at Aubrey Hall to thank), but it seemed to be out in full force today. You’d simply lost track of how many times he had dashed back and forth, working up somewhat of a sweat as he barked orders at his teammates in a desperate bid to ensure victory. It was no surprise to you that he had subsequently been forced to remove his jacket and roll up his sleeves, exposing his rather sculpted arms to those watching.  
As you said, there were worse ways to spend an afternoon - and normally, you’d have been smugly lapping it up, however, today you were unable to truly enjoy yourself. Not when all you wanted to do was march over to him, take that cricket bat and give him a good whack or two. Maybe that would knock some sense back into idiot… 
That was the issue with being in love with your dearest friend: those who knew you best also knew the best ways to hurt you, and Anthony’s behaviour at dinner the following evening had proven just how true a statement that was. 
It had all started after the entire family had been summoned to the townhouse for a dinner, to toast you and what had so far been a successful first Season as Viscountess Bridgerton. At first, everything had appeared normal, with the usual laughter, merriment, and ease that one would typically experience at a Bridgerton gathering. It was what had first endeared the family to you, back when you had been but a small child, living at Aubrey Hall as the only daughter of their Stable Master. 
They had never been anything other than kind to you, inviting you to play with their children, and join them in their daily lessons. They had also bought you gifts on your birthdays, invited you to join them at events, and even paid for the finest doctors when your father had fallen unwell several years ago. It was as if, to the Bridgertons, your family was their family - an attitude that they extended to the all members of the staff that kept their ancestral seat running. It didn’t matter if you were Head House Keeper, or the greenest of scullery maids. Everyone was counted and cherished, and the Bridgertons had earned utmost loyalty in return. 
The rigid rules and divisions of high society didn’t appear to exist within the wisteria covered walls, and it had been that way well into your young adult life. In fact, it had been you that had initially rejected Anthony when he first declared his love for you one day, after taking you along with him on one of your many afternoon rides. 
You’d been the one to remind him who he was and that society expected him to marry someone they deemed worthy of him and his title - and that wasn’t you. You didn’t have a penny to your name beyond the small sum you’d saved from helping with the younger Bridgerton children as a governess. You didn’t have a title or an estate or anything to bring to a marriage. 
“Except the most important thing!” Anthony had pleaded. “Love… I love you, and there is no one else for me in this life except you. Life is short, terrifyingly short. Look at my mother and father… to be without the person you love most in the world is an agony and I cannot bear it. Please. I can’t lose you. I will not spend my life without you, knowing love is within both of our reach but that we were too afraid to grasp it? If I cannot spend my life, no matter how long it may be, with you then I will have no-one. No-one. My brothers can have the title. I don’t want it. I only want you.”
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He’d continued to insist that for the following 6 months, even after his family had moved to their London house for the Season. It didn’t matter how many beautiful, eligible, wealthy heiresses he was introduced to. He would entertain none of them. He would have none of them. Only you. 
It’s what he’d continued to insist until you’d eventually accepted, realising that he was right; Love was the most important thing and you both deserved to have it in your lives, come what may. 
So, you’d said yes. 
You’d become engaged and gradually made your way out into society as the new Viscountess Bridgerton, armed with the support and guidance of the Bridgertons. 
Which brought you to last night and the dinner that had been organised to mark the end of the most challenging, but rewarding, Season of your life - and the dinner had started so wonderfully. Yet, somehow it had all gone to hell in a hand basket in the mere blink of an eye thanks the well meaning, but ill timed, teasing of Colin and Benedict.
Your brothers-in-law had both decided to raise a toast to your first Season as an ‘official’ member of the family and they'd got off to a rather complimentary start, if you were being honest. However, they had somehow moved from their praise on to reminiscing about the many years and many adventures you had had since joining their family.
Whereas every anecdote had caused the rest of the family to spiral into more laughter, your husband had looked more and more infuriated. In fact, Anthony had warned them not too kindly to ‘sit down’ and ‘shut up’ about your childish behaviours, which of course had only encouraged them further. 
“Oh, hush, brother,” Benedict had quipped, raising a glass to your successful debut. “She knows we mean it all in good fun. After all, she once had a phase where she refused to wear shoes and would walk barefoot around the estate, traipsing mud everywhere! I think we’re allowed to be surprised by how far our dear darling Y/N has come.”
“It’s true - It’s a miracle,” Colin added, wiping the tears of laughter from his cheeks. “The transformation is remarkable. Who knew she would go from feral ragamuffin to lofty Lady Bridgerton.” 
Anthony’s only response had been to tighten his grip on his glass to the point it looked like it would shatter. 
Whether it was the residual stress of your busy social calendar, or something else entirely you had no idea. All you did know was that Anthony was angry, and even your gentle touch would not soothe him. 
In a desperate attempt to calm him, you’d pulled Anthony out onto the terrace shortly after dessert had been cleared and asked what was happening. Much to your surprise, he had turned on you, venting about how childish his brothers were and how embarrassing it was that they were discussing things unbefitting someone who was a Viscountess. 
“They’re just joking, my love. They were doing it to get a rise out of you.”
“Well, it wasn’t funny,” he’d growled, causing you to bristle. “They’re so immature. They need to grow up and realise we’re not children any more. That… that you’re my wife and joint head of this family.”
“So? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“You know what I mean.”
“No, I don’t, Anthony,” you snapped, the warning clear in your tone. “What are you trying to say?”
“Nothing, I just - it - they’re… it’s embarrassing.” 
“So, you’re embarrassed? By what? Your family? Or me? Because everything they said tonight is true. I did do those things, as did you. I may not have been born a noble lady but you knew that when you asked me to marry you. So don’t suddenly act like you're ashamed, that you are somehow better than your family - than me.”
Somehow the argument had only spiralled from there, with both of you saying things you didn’t mean, and with both of you storming off and slamming the doors behind you. 
Even now, sat on the edge of the cricket pitch, the thought made your blood boil. How dare he? How dare he act ashamed of you and the wondrous memories of your youth together? It wasn’t as if you hadn’t grown and matured since then. You had done everything within your power to be worthy of him and his family, and yet all it took was one mention of the girl you had once been to make him upset?
As if sensing your silent fury, Eloise had been glued to your side since the moment you'd left the house. Her company had been a blessing, with her numerous whispered remarks and jokes, making the day almost bearable. One remark in particular from Eloise had caused you to burst out laughing in a most undignified fashion after watching Anthony trip over one of the opposite team - the Duke of Hastings of all people. 
You still weren’t quite sure how they had been positioned on opposite teams, but you were sure there was some kind of wicked divine intervention responsible. Who else would think it a good idea to put two competitive men against one another? Your hosts, perhaps? After all, Lady Danbury and Her Majesty had organised the game and you had learned long ago not to underestimate the women - especially when they decided to conspire together. 
“How long is this delightful game again?” Eloise’s polite remark oozed with sarcasm as she leant back against the tree behind her. 
It was obvious she was bored senseless. In fact, you half suspected she would have already left had her mother not been sat on the opposite side of the green, watching her like a hawk. 
“I’m not sure,” you groaned in reply. “I lost count of who was winning about an hour ago.”
“So, we’re to be trapped here for eternity?”
“Pretty much, considering this part will not end until either Simon or Anthony lose, and we both know that neither one of them will concede defeat easily.”
Eloise rolled her eyes. “And I thought they were bad at Pall Mall-”
“-LOOK OUT!”
The cry interrupted both of you as you turned in surprise. Given the so-far sedimentary tone of the day, neither of you had expected such excitement as numerous Lords and Ladies began to hurl themselves out of the way as a stray cricket ball rocketed through the air, towards the crowd. 
“Good god!”
The exclamation seemed apt as both you and Eloise ducked, watching as the ball sailed past, causing several yelps and groans from the people around you. You were pretty sure you also spied a glass of lemonade flying through the air in all the chaos. However, your attention was drawn to the figure charging towards you to retrieve the offending item as it rolled to a stop. 
Anthony.
“Pardon me, Y/N,” he murmured, reaching down to collect the ball that now lay a small distance from your feet. You nodded in greeting, aware of the many eyes watching but you elected not to say anything, not trusting yourself not to make some snide remark.
As it was, you both had barely said more than a handful of words to each other since your argument last night.
Clearly sensing the lingering tension between you, Anthony quickly turned to address his sister instead. “Eloise.”
“Ah, brother," Eloise cheered. "Splendid play so far. Tell me, when did the object of the game become the decapitation of the ton? I would have attended far more cricket matches had I known that was the aim of the game.” 
“You can blame Simon for that one,” he replied, his taunt hidden beneath his neutral smile. “Still, good dodging back there. I thought he might have nearly caught you both.”
“Almost.”
“But alas he missed, like most of your players today,” you quipped, enjoying the way Anthony seemed to redden at the reminder of his team’s less than stellar performance. “Still, good effort. You’ve almost caught up with Her Majesty’s team. I believe that’s better than last year.”
“Well, that might have had something to do with the fact that she does have Simon,” Anthony grumbled. 
It was true, no one could out-run Simon - even if Anthony always gave it a damn good try: hence why the Queen often had him captain her team when he was in London for the season. Besides, the head of the other team was usually Lord Duval, due to his position as the Queen’s chief administrator. However, it seemed his brains and financial strength were all he had, due to the fact his social skills, and athleticism were sorely lacking. 
“Touché, and who is up next?” Eloise asked. 
“I don't actually know. The other team seem to be taking remarkably long to sort themselves out.”
Just then, almost as if on cue, three men began to hurry towards them.
A quick glance revealed that one of the gentlemen who was approaching was Colin Bridgeton, and the other the Duke of Hastings; that much you knew. The third was rather unfamiliar to you, however, you were pretty certain he’d been playing on Simon’s team. Regardless of his identity, neither he nor any of the other gentlemen now stood in front of you looked very pleased. Rather, they looked as if they had all sucked on a lemon, their frowns were so deep.
“Sorry to interrupt ladies, but I must reclaim Lord Bridgerton here for a moment. It appears Anthony will be needed to bowl again,” Simon sighed by way of explanation.
“What on earth for?”
Colin was the first to answer. “Lord Dingby is unable to bowl on account of the heat, and the Baron will not play.” His skepticism was clear as he shot the so called Baron a disapproving look. “He ’twisted his ankle’ or so he claims, thus we are down a bowler and the other team is down a player.”
You all rolled your eyes.
“So then, who will bat?” questioned Eloise curiously. “If Anthony is bowling you still require one more man to take their place on the other team?”
Wasn’t that the question of the hour. However, no one appeared to have an answer, and by the disapproving glare steadily growing on the Queen’s face, they didn’t have long to come up with one. 
“Maybe Lord Stevens?” suggested the third man hastily, staring around at the crowd. 
“No. He injured himself riding the other week,” Simon replied. “And unfortunately our hosts only saw fit to invite enough male guests as were playing. We aren’t exactly spoilt for choice regarding possible options.”
It was true. There didn’t seem to be any visible answer in sight given that those most suited to the game were already positioned on the field. 
“What about female guests though?” 
Your question hung in the air for a moment, causing everyone around you to turn in surprise. 
“Excuse me?” Anthony looked at you suspiciously as you began to rise from your seat. He was well versed enough to know when mischief was afoot. A fact that was proven right a moment later as you held your hand out towards a shocked - and excited - Colin.
He was only too happy to oblige your silent request as he placed the bat in your grip. It was rapidly becoming the most exciting event of the season and lord knows he wasn’t about to spoil the fun - especially if he got to rub salt into Anthony’s wounds at the same time. 
After all, given his display the previous evening, it was time you truly gave him something to feel embarrassed about. Losing.
“Are you sure about this?”
“Perfectly,” you smiled. “You’ve seen me when we’ve played Pall Mall. I have a decent enough swing. Besides, you said yourselves you need an extra player and there isn’t exactly anyone suited left - not anyone male, anyway.” 
“Anthony?” 
To his credit, your husband was also smiling, even if you could see the sudden tension forming behind his perfect smile. “I see no problem with it. I’m sure our hosts would prefer the game finished rather than called off because we ran out of players.” 
“Agreed. Well, it’s settled then.” Simon cheered, clapping a hand on Anthony’s shoulder as they looked back towards the field. “It seems she will be taking his go.” 
Then they noticed the rain cloud of a man next to them.
"She can’t play!” protested the third man. Everyone looked at him in silent disbelief. “This is a gentleman’s game. A Lady can not play."
“Her Majesty seems to have no objections,” Eloise commented smugly, glancing across the field. Indeed, it was true Her Majesty seemed to have no objections to the turn of events, choosing instead to exchange a wad of pound notes with the man beside her. If anything she looked exhilarated by the prospect. "Besides, I doubt a feeble female such as ourselves will pose any threat to your team, your Lordship.” 
“Well… I… Bridgerton, I still don’t think-” 
Thankfully, Anthony was all too busy gazing at you to take any notice of the pompous oaf’s objections. 
It was a look you were more than familiar with, the unspoken desire and encouragement obvious in the way his gaze softened. It was the same look he always gave you when you’d done something amazing (and most things were amazing in his eyes). It didn't matter if it was taming a particularly unruly horse, solving a maths problem that left the rest of them scratching their heads, or daring to step onto the dance floor at your first ball, knowing not another soul in that room other than him.  
It was a look that made you feel invincible. That you could do anything and everything you put your mind to as long as you had Anthony cheering you on from the sidelines... you were a team. Always.
"Anthony?" you asked, the challenge obvious - but also your sincerity. If he truly did not want you to play then you'd have marched back to your chair and sat right back down.
You'd meant it before. You loved your husband and wanted nothing more than to be the best partner you could be. Your hurt from last night had stemmed from the fear that, for a moment, that wasn't enough for him anymore.
Fortunately, it appeared you were wrong. Your husband wasn't embarrassed by you. If anything, he looked ready to kiss the ground you walked on as he leaned over and whispered in your ear, "If you can get four runs, I will personally pay you 5 pounds."
"You have a deal," you laughed. "As it is, women and ladies alike play cricket up and down the country. It’s high time we had a chance to show you boys up."
The other man began to protest again. "My Lady, my La-" 
He never got very far. You simply stopped, turning and handing him your parasol and shawl.
"Thank you," you cheered marching away.
He paused, taken aback. It didn’t help that Eloise was only too eager to firmly pull him back into your now vacant seat with a glare that could have melted ice. 
All around applause broke out as the players resumed their positions on the field. It took a moment or two for them to prepare for play but now everyone seemed to be watching intently. 
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Oh well, if you were to dare to play at all then you may as well dare to achieve something from it, you mused, gripping the bat handle and aligning yourself with the wicket. Victory seemed a rather good start, especially given the fact you had no idea what Lady Whistledown would make of this turn of affairs. You’d already had a shocking enough entrance into the world of the Ton, what was one more daring display?
"Go easy, Lord Bridgerton," the referee cautioned from the side of the green. 
Anthony nodded obediently at the crowd’s titters. You could see the restraint he was demonstrating, choosing not to hurl the ball at you the way he would had you both been in the privacy of your home. Instead, it took all his will power to grip the cricket ball and resume his position on the field. 
Unfortunately, you never knew when best to desist from poking proverbial bears. That, and Anthony was too easy a target. 
"Yes, do go easy on me," you jibed. Everyone who knew you could hear the sarcasm buried in your voice as you took the bat and fluttered your eyelashes at him. "I’m only a delicate woman, but I must endeavour to ensure her Majesty’s team at least has an opportunity to best you, Lord Bridgerton. You’re only losing by what? A few wickets?" 
Oh. You were in for it now. 
Anthony’s grin was devious as he stepped back a few paces, weighing the ball in his hand till finally he charged at you, swinging his arm over in the perfect bowl. 
It was then you brought up your bat to send the ball back in a high arc. 
There was a moment of stunned silence as everyone followed the ball with their eyes. It was as if they couldn’t believe you’d actually managed to hit it. However, the shock quickly wore off as everyone remembered the point of hitting the ball in the first place. 
"GO!" came a yell from the crowd as excitement began to spread. 
So, you did.
Hitching your skirts in one hand, you began to sprint towards the other set of wickets, grinning as your partner passed you along the way. 
Of course, you would have liked to protest that you could have indeed run faster had you not been encumbered by your stays and petticoats. Your slippers were also rather terrible for any movement. What you wouldn’t have given for a pair of trousers right then. 
"Come on!" came another yell - it seemed as if everyone was forgetting their dignity in all the excitement as you tore back and forth across the grass in a mad blur. 
Had it been anyone but you, it would have been a terribly scandalous moment. Yet, your name - and the status of your betrothed - meant this was all merely seen as sport. Besides, from the way Her Majesty was whooping from her perch by the trees, it was clear where her loyalties lay.
"Come on Y/N!"
"Anthony! Run!"
"Over here!"
"Come on!"
The cries blurred into one as you finally turned at what you planned on being your final run, only to spot Anthony as he came sprinting back towards you… and the wicket.
"Oh no, you don’t," you laughed, charging onwards in a final burst of energy. 
You could hardly catch your breath as the world slowed around you. 
All that remained was you, Anthony, and the closing distance between you. 
You could see his desperation laced with delight as he watched you stagger towards the wicket… just as the ball he’d thrown hit it.
"IN!" 
The referee’s declaration initiated an eruption of noise as all around the green, men and women celebrated the spectacle they’d just witnessed, and the victory you had now ensured.  Within seconds you were swarmed, mobbed by well wishers and triumphant team mates. There were so many hugs and snatched ‘well done’s that you were quite at a loss what to do other than stand there and accept it. Thankfully, Anthony seemed to have read your mind and was at your side as soon as he was able to fight through the jubilant throng. 
The moment he reach you he took your hand in his. His expression was a mixture of awe and contrition, clearly unsure what to say to you.
"Good game," he praised. "Simon better watch out - I think Her Majesty will be asking you to captain her team next year."
"What a tremendous idea, Lord Bridgerton. I may just do that."
As if summoned by the very mention of her, a voice rang out clearly from behind you. Without even turning you knew exactly who was standing behind you, as the throng suddenly fell silent around you and parted like the Red Sea. In all the excitement you had failed to notice the Royal party making their way across the field to join in the celebrations. 
With a gulp, you turned and dropped into the most respectful curtsey you could manage without falling flat on your face. "Y - your Majesty."
The Queen chuckled. "I must thank you, Lady Bridgerton, for providing such excitement to our proceedings today. I also must thank you for the twenty pounds I just procured off of Brimbsley - that’ll teach him to bet against me."
You merely dipped your head in gratitude, unsure whether this was actually happening or not. After all, the closest the you’d ever been to monarch was your hasty presentation several months ago and that had barely earned you more than a curious glance, like you had been some exotic animal on parade at the Zoo. And now, the Queen was addressing you? A lowly Stable Master’s daughter? 
It was enough to make you feel as if this was all some kind of surreal dream. 
"Anyone who bets against your Majesty deserves to be relieved of their coin."
"True, True," she preened, gesturing for you and everyone else to rise. "I gather you have played this game before?"
"Growing up around the Bridgertons ensured I had little alternative," you confirmed, relieved when the Queen proceeded to chuckle good-naturedly. 
"I dare say you didn’t, my dear. Well, it certainly makes for a rather entertaining afternoon, as well as a victorious one. Perhaps we aught to have women playing more often." She turned her head and chose to direct her next words directly to your husband. "You’ve chosen quite the bride, Lord Bridgerton - you are to be congratulated on choosing such a spirited partner. I hope you realise how lucky you are."
"Indeed, your Majesty," Anthony replied, the earnestness clear in his eyes. "I’ve realised just how truly unique and remarkable she is… and how lucky I am that she chose to be on my team, even if not on the cricket pitch."
Another round of laughter echoed out at his declaration but you knew it was more than just a jest. In fact, by the all-too-clear pride radiating off of the eldest Bridgerton you knew what he truly meant with his honeyed praise.  
It was all the apology you could need and had you not been in such company you’d have dragged him into the bushes and shown him just how much you forgave him. Besides, your victory on the Cricket pitch was enough pay-back for both of you. 
As if sensing the amorous tension steadily rising around her, the Queen chose that moment to make a well-timed departure, in search of a refreshment. She barely gave you all a final nod before marching off to greet the rest of her guests, leaving you stood there with a rather gobsmacked expression on your face. 
"Well… that really happened," you murmured, struggling to maintain your newfound confidence now that the whole saga had come to an end. "Did I actually just do that? Did the Queen actually just … talk to me?"
"She really did," Anthony confirmed, hands grazing yours nervously, as if unsure whether or not you’d accept his touch. However, your hands accepted his readily, fingers intertwining as you squeezed his palm in an obvious attempt to ground yourself. "You truly were incredible today - I know you don’t need to hear it but, for what it’s worth, I am proud of you." 
"Thank you."
"And I truly am sorry for being such a world class fool, last night," he continued swiftly, clearly keen to make his apology whilst you were willing to receive it. "I didn’t mean to make you feel as if I was embarrassed by you. I never could be. It couldn’t be further from the truth. I was vexed with my brothers and because of several other trivial matters, but I allowed my temper to get the better of me and I handled it poorly. I lashed out at the wrong person - the one person who deserves nothing less than to be told how incredible she is, every single day. I am unworthy of you, Y/N. I know no one else in the entire world so awe inspiring and to let you think otherwise for even a moment was my failing entirely. You are brave and smart and funny and kind and beautiful-"
"Ok, Anthony. I get it."
"-and I am unworthy of someone with such skill on the cricket pitch-"
"Anthony," you squealed, trying to hide your laughter as he pulled you into his arms and smothered your face in kisses. "It’s fine. I forgive you. After all, I also lost my temper and said some things I didn’t mean. Can we just agree we’re both sorry and put this mess behind us?"
"Yes! God yes," he sighed, looking like a weight had visibly lifted from his shoulder. "Because I really do not like fighting with you. Instead, I think we should be enjoying your victory parade. Today is your triumph, after all - the Queen’s champion." 
"Hmmm, I rather like that title," you purred, gazing up at him. "But between us? I prefer being your wife, much much more."
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thatdeadaquarius · 7 months ago
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Topic: Genshin impact.
au: Sagau.
idea: So what if you had the powers of every character you played as in every game you played and then get isekaid into genshin impact with imposter au. I imagine it goes smth like
Zhongli: “I will have order!”
reader, Who played Roblox as someone who lagged the game (explanation: I’m pretty sure ping is also how time works in games. If you can control the flow of ping you can control the flow of time in games.): “ZA WARUDO!”
Heyyy!! Thanks for waiting for the reply/response from my slow ass :0
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So they did clarify what they meant/expand so imma just copy paste that here!
“k now I remember. So basically imma write it here since it’s easier: Basically you don’t have to (but you can) transform into the character that has those set of powers but if you do those powers are enhanced.”
Sun: Reader (”you”/they/them)
Orbit: Headcanons-ish, Light Imposter AU (as in, NOT Yandere/Dark), mild crossover elements bc Shapeshifter Shenanigans™️
Stars: bro idek
Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: mild cussing, genshin typical mild violence, & Trigger Warnings: none known.
Please comment if I missed any. /gen
so fair warning,, ive never seen jojo bizarre, but i appreciate i come off well-read/watched? LMAO
so im just gonna kinda,, guess? like just cycle thru diff. random media, and im hoping both me and you reading this will have a fun time (as this is a little challenge, but i like it so ill give it a shot, dont kno if its a good one but- 😅)
so to set the scene, of how u got to this point, ykno of running like ur life (maybe?) depends on u running around different teyvat countries,
u thought it was weird everyone knew a little too much about you?? (ofc theyve heard u during gaming, they know u the same way we all know Markiplier, get it?)
then a bunch of NPCs/Vision users/Archons?? were REALLY invested in talking to you, which freaked u out even more
and by the time you saw Zhongli, yknow, just the oldest god in game, making a fast-walk towards you, ykno the retired god who didnt move an inch when an old water god attacked Liyue for a test, is now hurrying to you???
ur logically get so fucking scared sm shits abt to go down, u just start running
it isnt until ur reaching for a ledge and some webbing shoots out of ur arm (from a glitchy little spot on ur arm, where it could be coming out of ur skin, but sometimes its a blue and red bracelet)
it latched onto the nearest building, and thats how u find out u can grapple ur way, literally Spiderman style, out of the harbor
and bro, idk if it would be fun, or confusing and stressful, or maybe both?? to just find out u can use any video game power from any game youve played before as you go running from countries bc for some freaky reason they know too much abt you/are pursuing you-
dUDE- they had small statues of you in like every little section of their cities
u head to Mondstadt and as Venti comes screaming and flying at you (in excitement, but ur freaked), u go to hold a hand up and suddenly ur holding a heavy stone tablet that unleashes some holographic yellow chains that freeze him in place-?? why is this familiar-
oh my god u have the sheikah slate from Breath of the Wild,
and as ur booking it out of there, u manage to get ahold of a sword, and u know exactly how to use it to knock back favonius knights trying to stop you (they are concerned for their god who is just unleashing random powers on ppl, pls let Grandmaster Jean just talk to you Your Majesty-!!)
by the time you teleport ur way to Inazuma, (bc u still have this worlds access to ur player/traveler’s powers), ur trying to find a nice place to stay for a little bit
at least in that sweet spot of the Raiden not noticing/finding you, while things cool down on the main continent, before moving on,
and u get some tools to help fashion just a little shelter, bc u dont have any money/mora rn, and ur able to literally build a house???
a mailbox pops up and thanks you for renting with Tom Nook???? As in Animal Crossing-
and rlly if the BOTW/slate thing didnt clue u into video game powers, then this definitely would tbh lmao
right as u see Yae Miko circling ur house, with an armful of books? ..is she planning to thru them at you??, u get the hell out of dodge before her favorite god can follow along
(she knows ur prefrences in books and got authors/trends to start so youd have plenty to read, and she was making sure it was ur house before politely dropping them off! how was she to know thatd spook their favorite God, Ei?!)
u get to Sumeru and think ur safe, hiding in an abandoned forest watcher outpost (1 person treehouse rlly) when Nahida shows up in ur dreams,
and u just,
walk out of the dream, into reality, and possess a nearby ruin guard so u can sleep in peace, bc she cant access a robot,
that one baffled u as you re-possessed ur own body before realizing-
Five Nights at Freddy’s. 💀
U cant do that forever, so u try Fontaine, hoping Neuvillette/Furina wont rlly give af abt you, plus theyre the latest region, so maybe they have the least exposure to whatever the other archons didnt like abt you??
u get there and are immediately summoned to court, and right as the mekas show up to escort you, jfc they have a mecha army
(meanwhile, theyre thinking, yknow. high profile guest/our god of gods. ofc we need state of the art mekas to escort them, its only polite-)
meanwhile ur cape has now become wings, and a mask covers ur face as you glide and fly ur way over the city in an attempt to get to where u assume Snezhnaya is
it doesnt occur to you the game until ur running out of stamnia and catch ur reflection in the waters of fontaine, Sky: Children of the Light
u hope the Tsaritsa’s dislike for other gods/Celestia doesnt extend to ur otherworldly presence so ur just hoping for the best atp tbh
tbh youd forget what all powers you have, and the absolute chaos ur causing urself as u try to desperately rememeber what games youve played thru ur entire life is NOT helping to reduce confusion when u randomly wake up with elf ears (legend of zelda/botw) or get dragged into another ruin machine when u fall asleep/faint/do smth u guess mimics death lmao- (fnaf) 💀
(meanwhile the Tsaritsa does get wind ur coming this way, and just, makes the people have a parade/festival to celebrate you coming,
she did also have to get Pierro/Captaino to physically restrain some of them from going ahead to meet/escort you to the palace, she’d heard how the others scared u off, and was, ironically, hoping the warm welcome would clear things up)
well that was, something. 😃🫠
sorry lil car, that was such a fun idea idk if i did it justice!! i thought itd be too op to include every media youve consumed ever, so i kept it to video games, (which, could u cheat the system if youve played smash bros??)
i hope it was at least a decent read, and sorry im half asleep so i was not v funny this time around, but, again, hope u got smth out of it 😭
</3
on another note, im having my wisdom teeth surgery this friday, send whatever u got my way, prayers, blessings, good vibes, ill take anything im nervous 🙃
have a good week guys!
Safe Travels Lil Car,
💀���
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♡the beloveds♡
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astolfofo · 7 months ago
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…I had a thought about the halovians(specifically sunday) and want to know peoples opinions. do u think he has nesting instincts? :3 thank u for listening to my ted talk.
hi (i did say i was gonna answer this 2 weeks ago unfortunately I forgot i'm so sorry.) But anyways, thank you for your ask, and 100% he does.
tw: non-con, forced pregnancy, dark content. truly the unedited sleep deprived trying to write.
Okay i finished writing this i know you didn't ask for acutal writing but i went ahead and did it anyways because why not hope u don't mind
also excuse the fact that thus was posted at 4am and I was half falling asleep already while writing this.
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There were three days in your life that you could have called the worst.
The first one was the day when Sunday took your life away from you, and claimed you to be his "wife". The second was when first time he chose to be intimate. The third was when you got pregnant as a result.
Nothing had ever stuck to you like the day after that. You felt like washing the sheets until your hands would bleed. You wanted to submerge yourself in bleach until every fiber of your body burned, shriveled up, and died.
You wanted to forget that it happened. That the events in the previous night ever happened at all.
But the soreness between your legs was a constant reminder. And even though the pain went away after a few days, it was replaced by something much worse. Something you feared.
You saw the signs from the second you got them. Your body felt heavy. You were constantly tired. You had lost interest in eating. It was obvious what was going on.
And for a few days, you tried to hide it. The longer Sunday didn't know, the better it was for you. That way, you could slowly while away your last few moments in peace before everything was taken from you in entirety.
After a few weeks, you couldn't hide it anymore. You remember staring at the double line on the pregnancy test.
You almost instantly broke down into tears. It wasn't anything that you hadn't already know n, but maybe part of you still just believed you were ill, that maybe there was another reason why you had missed your period that month. That the pain you kept experiencing was just from some kind of illness.
The last thing you could keep away from Sunday was taken away from you that day. The sense of freedom you could've had.
To Sunday, you suppose this was the final step he needed to take to bind you to him. Another way to control you. Another way to keep you in his arms, and make sure you wouldn't let go.
And if you didn't want to get murdered by the press, if you didn't want to further sabotage both your own and Sunday's public image, you knew to take it.
You had no choice but to take it. You were no more than an insect trapped under his thumb.
-
out of the two of you, there was only one person that was particularly enthusiastic about having a child.
It certainly wasn't you.
Ever since you had first found out about the pregnancy, you had felt empty. As if someone directly sucked the soul out of your body.
You weren't yourself anymore. You hadn't been for a long time.
Sunday didn't seem too bothered by it though.
You weren't sure if it was just his own parental instincts, or whether he could tell that it was almost time for you go into labour. Maybe it was a combination of both. You didn't care. You couldn't care less.
All you knew was that his presence was suffocating. Overbearing. Invasive, even.
You couldn't do anything by yourself. Sunday felt the need to assist you with everything you did. Even basic tasks such as grabbing an object, he insisted that he would get for you.
But what set you off the most, was his intense urge to keep the house in order. You had never seen him having such intense urges to organize a room even when just the slightest thing was out of order. He couldn't stand seeing the slightest speck of dust, he couldn't stand seeing the furniture just an inch out of place.
It drove you to madness.
If you had even slightly misplaced something Sunday you would notice Sunday getting slightly agitated.
From the moment he came home, to the moment he would fall asleep, he spent every waking second making sure the house was perfectly in order, before obsessing over you. At some point you just wanted to wave him off. Lock yourself in the bathroom and sleep for a long period of time, until you had no concept of reality anymore.
You didn't have it in you to keep going. week after week, month after month, Sunday's final goal had always to perfect you into an obedient wife that would do as they were told. And no matter how you tried to fight it... you were always forced back into obedience.
There's two cold fingers touching your chin, and lifting your face up, until you're forced to meet a pair of eyes.
They're bright. Everytime you see them, you can't help but try to look away. They were as bright as the sun, and just like the sun, you felt as if you were going to be blinded jfyou looked at them for too long. You guess it could've also been a sentiment to the power he held over you too.
"Dear, did you hear a word I just said?"
It's an obvious answer. But, you know better by now just to answer the question. You slightly shake your head, which supposedly satisfied him enough, to let go of the fi gers holding your head up.
He sighs, you're not sure in annoyance or in disappointment.
"If you keep acting like this, I'm going to need to resort to drastic measures..."
You look at him one more time. You remember how when you first saw him, you thought of him to be beautiful. To be almost ethereal.
You regret falling into that hypnosis. You regret looking at him at all.
Look at where it got you.
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