#teak persians
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Arthur Teak 😺
#calico critters#sylvanian families#toys#toy collector#shilohscollection#toy photography#cats#persian cats#teak persians#flowers#garden#bachelors buttons#シルバニアファミリー
88 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sylvanian ships #3: BudLix
1 note
·
View note
Text
From Traditional to Trendy: Wooden Spice Box Prices in Pakistan
Introduction
Wooden spice boxes Price In Pakistan, an integral part of many kitchens, blend functionality with aesthetic appeal. In Pakistan, these handcrafted items are more than just storage solutions; they are a testament to the country's rich cultural heritage. This article explores the journey of wooden spice boxes from traditional designs to contemporary styles, while providing insights into their prices in Pakistan.
The Heritage of Pakistani Handicrafts
Pakistan is renowned for its exquisite handicrafts, which reflect the country's diverse cultural tapestry. Wooden handicrafts, in particular, have a special place in Pakistani art and craft traditions. From intricately carved furniture to delicate jewelry boxes, Pakistani artisans have mastered the art of woodworking.
Wooden Spice Boxes are a prime example of this craftsmanship. Traditionally used to store spices, these boxes have evolved in design and utility over time. Today, they are cherished not only for their practical use but also as decorative pieces that add a touch of elegance to any kitchen.
Evolution of Wooden Spice Boxes
Traditional Designs
Traditional wooden spice boxes are characterized by their intricate carvings and robust construction. Made from high-quality wood, these boxes often feature elaborate patterns inspired by Mughal and Persian art. The use of natural dyes and finishes enhances their rustic charm.
These traditional designs have been passed down through generations, preserving the essence of Pakistani heritage. They are typically found in older homes and are prized for their historical value and craftsmanship.
Contemporary Styles
As lifestyles have modernized, so too have the designs of wooden spice boxes. Contemporary styles incorporate minimalist aesthetics, sleek finishes, and innovative features to cater to modern kitchen needs. These boxes may include multiple compartments, transparent lids, and even magnetic closures for added convenience.
The shift towards contemporary designs reflects a broader trend in Pakistani handicrafts, where artisans blend traditional techniques with modern sensibilities to create unique, functional art pieces.
Factors Influencing Wooden Spice Box Prices in Pakistan
Several factors affect the prices of wooden spice boxes in Pakistan. Understanding these can help buyers make informed decisions when purchasing these beautiful items.
Material Quality
The type of wood used significantly impacts the price. High-quality woods such as teak, rosewood, and walnut are more expensive due to their durability and aesthetic appeal. Boxes made from these woods are often considered premium products.
Craftsmanship
The level of detail and craftsmanship involved also plays a crucial role in determining the price. Intricately carved boxes that require hours of labor are priced higher than simpler, machine-made ones. Handcrafted pieces by skilled artisans are particularly valued for their uniqueness and quality.
Design Complexity
Complex designs with multiple compartments and additional features like magnetic closures or transparent lids tend to be more expensive. These designs offer greater functionality and often require more time and effort to produce.
Brand Reputation
Reputable brands and artisans with a history of quality craftsmanship command higher prices. Buyers are often willing to pay a premium for products from well-known sources to ensure they are getting a high-quality, authentic item.
Where to Buy Wooden Spice Boxes in Pakistan
Several markets and online stores offer a wide variety of wooden spice boxes. Here are some popular options:
Local Markets
Visiting local markets can be a delightful experience where you can see and feel the products firsthand. Cities like Lahore, Karachi, and Islamabad have vibrant markets known for their handicrafts. Anarkali Bazaar in Lahore and Empress Market in Karachi are particularly famous for wooden items.
Online Stores
For convenience, many people prefer shopping online. Websites like Crafts Emporium offer a wide selection of wooden spice boxes, ranging from traditional to contemporary designs. Shopping online allows you to compare prices, read reviews, and make informed decisions from the comfort of your home.
Conclusion
Wooden spice boxes in Pakistan have evolved from traditional, intricately carved pieces to modern, functional designs that cater to contemporary needs. These boxes not only serve as practical storage solutions but also add a touch of elegance and heritage to your kitchen. By understanding the factors that influence their prices, you can make informed choices and find the perfect spice box that fits both your aesthetic and functional requirements.
Whether you are drawn to the rich history of traditional designs or the sleek lines of contemporary styles, there is a wooden spice box for every taste and budget. Embrace the beauty and craftsmanship of Pakistani Handicrafts by investing in a wooden spice box that will enhance your kitchen and preserve the rich heritage of Pakistan's woodworking tradition.
0 notes
Text
10 Vintage decor Ideas for Your Home
Incorporating vintage decor into your home is a delightful way to infuse your space with charm, character, and a sense of nostalgia. Whether
If you're a fan of retro furniture, antique accents, or classic textiles, there are countless ways to create a vintage-inspired aesthetic. Here are ten vintage decor ideas to help you transform your home into a stylish, timeless sanctuary.
1. Retro Furniture
Vintage furniture is the basis of every house with a retro design. Look for classic examples of mid-century modern furniture, like old leather sofas, Eames chairs, or teak sideboards. These pieces serve as useful, eye-catching focus points in your living area in addition to adding style. Incorporating a Kids Bunny Chair into your child's room can also add a whimsical, retro touch, blending seamlessly with other vintage pieces.
2. Antique Accents
Little things can have a significant effect. Consider antique photo frames, rotary phones, typewriters, and clocks. You may create a unified vintage vibe in your house by using these elements everywhere. An antique Kids Coffee Table, can provide a charming centerpiece for your living room or play area, combining function with nostalgia.
3. Vintage Art and Prints
Your decor's overall tone is greatly influenced by the art you choose. Seek out old-fashioned posters, prints of botanicals, or monochrome images to decorate your walls. Original works can be found at flea markets, while superior reproductions can be found online. Putting these on display in traditional frames will add to the retro vibe.
4. Classic Lighting
Lighting is another crucial element in vintage decor. Opt for fixtures that evoke a bygone era, such as chandeliers, industrial pendant lights, or antique table lamps. For a whimsical touch in a child's room, consider a Marine Bunny Chair paired with a vintage-style lamp to create a cozy reading nook.
5. Nostalgic Textiles
Textiles can significantly influence the ambiance of a room. Use vintage-inspired fabrics for curtains, cushions, and upholstery. Floral prints, paisleys, and gingham patterns are excellent choices. A Kids Rocking Chair upholstered in a vintage fabric can add both comfort and style to a child's bedroom or play area.
6. Repurposed Furniture
Giving old furniture a new lease on life is a sustainable and stylish way to decorate. Consider repurposing an old dresser as a bathroom vanity or transforming a vintage ladder into a bookshelf. For a unique seating option, a Kids Eggshell Sofa can be a charming addition to a playroom or nursery, offering both comfort and a touch of vintage flair.
7. Vintage Rugs and Carpets
A well-chosen rug can anchor a room and tie together your vintage decor. Persian rugs, kilims, and other hand woven pieces are excellent choices for adding warmth and texture to your floors. Look for rugs with classic patterns and rich colors to enhance the nostalgic vibe of your space.
8. Decorative Mirrors
Mirrors not only add light and the illusion of space but also serve as beautiful decorative elements. Look for mirrors with ornate frames, such as gilded, carved wood, or wrought iron. A large vintage mirror can become a stunning focal point in a hallway or above a fireplace, adding elegance and depth to your decor.
9. Vintage Storage Solutions
Incorporate vintage storage solutions to keep your home organized while maintaining its nostalgic charm. Antique trunks, vintage suitcases, and wooden crates can be used for storage and as decorative elements. A Kids Moon Chair paired with a vintage storage trunk can create a cozy reading corner in a child's room, combining functionality with style.
10. Old World Kitchen and Dining
Bring a touch of vintage elegance to your kitchen and dining areas with retro appliances, enamel cookware, and classic china. Open shelving displaying vintage glassware and crockery can add charm and practicality. A vintage dining table paired with mismatched chairs can create a welcoming and eclectic dining space, perfect for family gatherings.
Conclusion
Incorporating vintage decor into your home can create a unique, timeless atmosphere that blends the old with the new. From retro furniture and antique accents to nostalgic textiles and classic lighting, there are numerous ways to infuse your home with vintage charm. By carefully selecting pieces and thoughtfully arranging them, you can transform your space into a stylish haven that celebrates the beauty of bygone eras. Whether you're decorating a living room, kitchen, or a child's bedroom, vintage decor offers endless possibilities for creativity and expression.
#Kids Bunny Chair#Marine Bunny Chair#Kids Rocking Chair#Kids Coffee Table#Kids Eggshell Sofa#Kids Moon Chair
0 notes
Text
Home Decor Ideas for Living Room Indian Style
Decorating a living room in Indian style involves incorporating rich colors, traditional patterns, and a blend of different textures. Here are some home decor ideas for a living room with an Indian touch:
1. Color Palette:
Opt for warm and earthy tones like deep reds, oranges, browns, and yellows. These colors create a cozy and inviting atmosphere.
2. Furniture:
Choose wooden furniture with intricate carvings and details. Dark woods like teak or rosewood are commonly used in Indian decor.
Low seating arrangements like floor cushions, poufs, or a wooden jhoola (swing) can add an authentic touch.
3. Textiles:
Use vibrant and textured fabrics for upholstery, curtains, and throw pillows. Incorporate traditional Indian textiles like silk, cotton, and jute.
Consider adding a colorful rug with intricate patterns like Persian or traditional Indian motifs.
4. Wall Decor:
Embellish walls with traditional Indian art forms like Madhubani paintings, Tanjore art, or Rajasthani miniature paintings.
Hang a decorative mirror with a carved or brass frame to add a touch of elegance.
5. Lighting:
Choose brass or copper lamps, lanterns, or chandeliers to add a warm glow to the room.
Include floor or table lamps with colorful lampshades or intricate designs for a traditional look.
6. Accessories:
Decorate with brass or copper items such as trays, pots, and figurines.
Incorporate traditional Indian artifacts like statues, bells, or sculptures representing Hindu or other cultural symbols.
7. Curtains and Drapes:
Select curtains with elaborate patterns and bright colors. Sheer curtains with intricate embroidery can also add a touch of elegance.
8. Natural Elements:
Bring in potted plants or flowers to add a natural element to the room. Consider incorporating indoor plants like money plant, ficus, or snake plant.
9. Cushions and Throws:
Use a mix of cushions with different textures, colors, and patterns. Consider adding embroidered or beaded cushions for a luxurious touch.
10. Dividers or Screens:
Introduce wooden screens or room dividers with intricate carvings to add privacy and a touch of traditional charm. Remember, the key to achieving an Indian-style living room is to blend rich colors, traditional patterns, and handcrafted elements. Feel free to mix and match different elements to create a unique and personalized space.
0 notes
Text
Unveiling the Timeless Craftsmanship: Artisan Furniture from India
In a world often dominated by mass-produced goods, the allure of artisanal craftsmanship stands out as a testament to skill, heritage, and creativity. India, a land steeped in rich cultural heritage, has long been a treasure trove of artisans crafting exquisite furniture pieces that blend tradition with modern aesthetics. The realm of artisan furniture in India is a testament to the fusion of age-old techniques, artistic finesse, and a profound connection to the country's diverse cultural tapestry.
Artisan furniture from India is more than just decor; it's a story woven with passion and artistry. The craftsmanship behind each piece reflects the skilled hands and creative minds of artisans who have honed their expertise through generations. These artisans draw inspiration from a myriad of sources: ancient architectural marvels, local flora and fauna, vibrant festivals, and the spiritual essence that defines India.
One of the distinctive features of Indian artisan furniture is its diversity. Different regions across the country boast their own unique styles and techniques, each reflecting the local culture and heritage. For instance, the ornate carvings and elaborate designs of Rajasthan resonate with the royal grandeur of its history, while the intricate inlays and delicate designs of Kashmiri furniture showcase the finesse of Persian influence.
Wood, being the primary medium for crafting furniture, holds a special place in the realm of Indian artisanal craftsmanship. Sheesham, teak, rosewood, and mango wood are among the commonly used materials, celebrated for their durability and exquisite grain patterns. The furniture crafted from these woods not only exudes elegance but also reflects the sustainability and eco-friendliness of traditional practices.
The techniques employed in crafting artisan furniture are often time-honored traditions passed down through generations. Intricate hand-carving, marquetry, inlay work, and metal embossing are just a few examples of the painstaking craftsmanship that goes into creating each masterpiece. The dedication to detail and the emphasis on handcrafted excellence sets Indian artisan furniture apart from its mass-produced counterparts.
In recent times, there has been a growing global appreciation for Indian artisan furniture. Discerning buyers seek out these unique pieces not only for their aesthetic appeal but also for the story they tell and the cultural heritage they embody. The rise of e-commerce platforms has facilitated greater access to these treasures, connecting artisans directly with a global audience and fostering a deeper appreciation for their skills and craftsmanship.
Moreover, the revival of traditional crafts and support for artisan communities have contributed to the preservation of India's rich cultural heritage. Organizations and initiatives promoting fair trade practices and ethical sourcing play a crucial role in empowering these artisans, ensuring they receive fair compensation for their exceptional skills.
Artisan furniture from India encapsulates more than just functionality and beauty; it encapsulates a legacy of craftsmanship and tradition. Each piece is a testament to the dedication, skill, and creativity of artisans who pour their hearts into their work. As the world continues to embrace sustainability and authenticity, the timeless allure of Indian artisan furniture stands tall, inviting us to appreciate the beauty of craftsmanship rooted in heritage and culture.
Our website has all the information you need to know and more.
Wholesale Furniture Online India
Wood Writing Desk
0 notes
Text
July 19, 2023
Morning Songs
(Listening To Morning Becomes Eclectic)
I Love You A Little Bit
I Love You A Lot
I Love The Way
You Make Me Feel Like
Radha Singing Shiva Shakti
To Ram
Chants
I Love You A Little Bit
I Love You Alot
With Emily Dickenson
Faith
Misunderstood
I Love You A Little Bit
I Love You Alot
With Movie Star Romance
You Stole My Heart
Buddha Empathy
Beyond Reality
I Love You A Little Bit
I Love You Alot
Wasn't 'Love Bombed'
By You Or Anything Like
That
Just A Magnetic Pull
Like Iron Filings
To A Magnet
In Maharishi's
T.M. Lecture
I Love You A Little Bit
I Love You Alot
Like Radha
Waiting In The Jungle
10 Years Beat Me To A Pulp
I Love You A Little Bit
I Love You Alot
Like The Ramayana
Ramacharitmanayana
By Tulsi-Das
Carved Into Thai Teak
Vintage Chang Mai Dressers
God's Dancing
For My Abode
I Love You A Little Bit
I Love You Alot
An Emerald Buddha
Twinkling
Clearer Than I've Seen
Before
Mercurial
I Love You A Little Bit
I Love You Alot
What Is It About
The Physicists
Chemistry
That Makes It All
Seem A Possibility
I Love You A Little Bit
I Love You Alot
A Curiosity
An Old World Intuits
Guide
Two Are Better
Than One
I Won't Lie
I Love You A Little Bit
I Love You Alot
Didn't Want To
'Love Bomb' You
Took Me 10 Years
A Decade
To Be Sure
Love You A Little Bit
Love You Alot
A Soulmate
Green Radar
A Soulmate
Lightning Rod
A Soulmate
Sculpture
I Love You A Little Bit
I Love You Alot
Radha And Krishna
Want To Be Happy
Forever
Rule Our Kingdom
With Billions
Lotto Style
Radha And Krishna
Will Make Great
Ranis' And Babbas'
Father's And Kings
Queen Mothers
Of California
Beat Out Of Homes
Obeisant No More
Functionally Obsolete
Courts
No Loyal Dogs
No Clarks' Obey Laws
No Loyal Dogs
We Want More
Isha's 18th Birthday on the 21st
Anjali Wants
To Emancipate
I'm Sure
Drew Barrymore
Style
No More Paris Juvenile
Detention
Bad Dreams
Mammas Here
Iowa Strong
IA
Got In The AI
I'm Here
Writers Strong
Mammas Here
Not Dying Of Cancer
Had Scares Before
With Plan B
Just A Tick
Not A Monster
Embedded In My Soul
Dr. Bug Says It
Must've Overtaken Me
3 and a Half Years
Festering In Covid
No Oxygen
On Bieber Luxuries
3.5 Years Festering
For Alexandria House
Dust
30 Something Variants
Of Spike Proteins
They Wanted
To Try On Me
-AB Blood Type
AI Dream
Only .07%
Represented
Don't Headhunt
My Cousins
Don't Headhunt Me
For We Got Delicate
Anatomy
Until Soulmate
Quarantined
Delicate
Physiology
Quarantined
Until Soulmate
You Might Like
Our Vibe
Than Sufi Over
And Ask For Peace
For My Tribe
Brother Eternal
Sister Eternity
Asks For Pirate Camps
Eternal Love
For My Brothers
And Me
On Timothy O' Leary
River
Homesteading
Pools
In What I Would've
Bought
If Estates
Weren't Slummed
By X- Sheriff
Keith Harper
And His Broker
Murdering Militia
All Returned
To Persian
America
With Our Billion
Dollar Bribes
Been Too Gracious
Paying For The
Social Workers
Pedophiles Dramas
#FreeBritney
Gaslighting Us
Say No
No No No
No No
No More Lies
Been Too Grascious
Persians Laying
Down Handmaid
Carpets
No Handmaidens
Tale For You
Or Me
On TV
Persians Been Too
Gracious
Genies Muses
Dancers
-AB Mommies
Extorted
Exploited
By The Gay Fashionistas
Of Courts
Jelly
Not A Poppet
For Your Master
Not A Dancer
For Your Video
Not A Model
For Your Threads
From Slavery
Chinese Labor
Spirochetes
Covid Lymes Morgellans
Not A Host
For Your Lymes
Furry Nazis
Northerners
Haters
Disease
Not A Host
My Baby America
You Won't Be Dropping
Ticks In Her Bed
Not A Host
In My Treehouse
Not A Host
Of Parasites In Courts
Not Playing
Princess And The
Tick No More
Princess Had Enough
Of Bugs Larvae
Peas; Lizard Eggs
And All Your
Foul Stuff
Princess Meghan
Princess Mitra
Princess Anjali
Princess Britney
Princess Me
Princess Nitya
Eternity
Saved From Murphy's
Law Princess Britney
Saved By
#FreeBritney
Billionaire Britney
We'll Take Bribes
To Undo The Baby
Factory That Got You
'Oops I Did It Again,'
My Gal Will Sing
Acapello For Me
At A Pirates
Camp
'Oops I Did It Again,'
#FreeBritney Will Sing
Not A DJ
But For Real
My Soul Sister
And Me
'Oops I Did It Again,'
And I'll Do It Once More
Dumb Luck
Blonde Breeze
Or Brunette Integrity
'Oops I Did It Again,'
Fell In Love
For Eternity
'Oops I Did It Again,'
Sammy & You
Made Unity
'Oops I Did It Again,'
Community Grew
'Oops I Did It
Again,'
My Homegrown
Paul Cannon
Padres
Madres
Iowa Band
'Oops I Did It Again,'
Practical
Pragmatic
You Got This
'Oops I Did It Again,'
The Nanny Is Back
Actors Strike
Belting It Out
For Franny
And I
Writers Strike
'Oops I Did It Again,'
I Did It For You
Wrote A Book
Took 60 Million
When A Billion
Dollar Britney
Is Not A "B"
'Oops I Did It Again,'
I Did It For You
We Birthed A New
America
We Birthed A New
California
We Birthed A New Iran
We Birthed The Princesses
Back
'Oops I Did It Again,'
In Las Calinas
Toilette
'Oops I Did It' For You
Sang For 18 Months
Solid
'Oops I Did It' For You
Mused My Country
Back To Health
'Oops I Did It,' For You
Told The Truth
Against The Odds
'Oops I Did It,' For You
We Fought Every Gag
Order
'Oops I Did It,' For You
When Security
Clobbered Princess
Diana #FreeBritney
And I For A Stirling Boys
Club
'Oops I Did It,' For You
Water Birthed
My Nation
'Oops I Did It," For You
Emancipated
From Great Britain
Peace,
Nitya Nella Davigo Azam Moezzi Huntley Rawal
*OOPS I Did It Again- inspired by #FreeBritney #FramingBritney & Queen "B" - Britney Spears - Eternal Prayers Mammas' xo
0 notes
Text
Best 5 Star Luxury Hotels in Connaught Place New Delhi | The Imperial India
Reminiscent of a 19th-century Indian Palace, in the land of Maharajas and Maharanis, The Imperial New Delhi was opened in 1936 as the first hotel in New Delhi. One of the Grand Dames of the East, its architecture has subtle traces of Victorian, Art Deco, and Lutyen styles. White marble colonnades, verdant gardens, rooms & suites replete with Italian marble floors, polished Burma teak, Persian hand-knotted carpets, antique chandeliers, and rosewood furniture, set the tone. The storied hotel blends rich heritage, exceptional service, and modern-day comforts for today’s business and leisure travelers.
Read More:- Luxury Hotels in Connaught Place New Delhi
0 notes
Text
calico critter of the day:
arthur teak (persian cat family / teak family father)
birthday: may 2nd, 2016 (taurus)
#Calico Critters#calico critter#calico critter of the day#sylvanian families#arthur teak#persian cat family#teak cat family#cat#kitten#kitty#father#taurus#2016#cute#love#toy#doll
56 notes
·
View notes
Text
NedBerty
#highschool friends#highschoolfriends4life#sylvanian families#ned teak#liberty harvey#harvey cat#persian cat#nedberty
1 note
·
View note
Text
calico critters i want pt 1
Husky family
Shiba inu family
Midnight cat family
Floral cat family
Persian cat family
Maple cat family
Persian cat family (Teak)
Striped cat family
Ginger cat family
Border collie family
29 notes
·
View notes
Text
First critter purchase of the year 🥺
Teak Persians from 2015
Found these very reasonably on ebay 💕 my orphan babies finally have their family 🤣
Official family photo soon
71 notes
·
View notes
Photo
portrait of a philosopher - bronze - recovered from the Antikythera shipwreck - c.240 BCE Charles Despiau (French, 1874-1946) - bronze - c.1930 Jaroslav Horejc (Czech, 1886-1983) - Livia (two views) - pear wood - 1921 Monumental Cemetery of Milan - bronze Hsu-tung-Han (Taiwan, b.1962) - Big Head #1 - West African Teak - 2011 Lotta Blokker (Dutch,b.1980) - Myrrha - bronze - 2005 H.R. Giger (Swiss, 1940-2014) Igor Mitoraj (Polish, 1944-2014) Bolesław Biegas (Polish, 1877-1954) - The Enigma — The Sphinx - bronze - 1902 Christian Zucconi (Italian, b.1978 ) - Testa V (Zoe) (three views) - Persian travertine, iron, wax - 2015
#art by others#other's artwork#sculpture#head#Charles Despiau#Jaroslav Horejc#Hsu-tung-Han#Lotta Blokker#H.R. Giger#Igor Mitoraj#Christian Zucconi#Bolesław Biegas#bronze#wood#travertine
113 notes
·
View notes
Text
WEBSITE WITH THE FINEST BUDGET HOME DÉCOR SHOPPING EXPERIENCE
Here's what I have to say about it:
Furniture and Furnishing: It is one of the most basic items that I required for the renovation of my home.
I ordered a rustic blue end table. The quality of the wood and its flawless finishing astonished me. I placed it in my study room since it went so well with the color on the walls.
Highly impressed with their service, I decided to place additional orders through the website.
I placed an order for a large bar cabinet that is great value for money. It's really spacious, can accommodate all of the drinks as well as the relevant utensils, and the design is absolutely a delight to the eyes.
I purchased a custom-made teak wooden sofa that is both cozy and well-suited to my living room. The wide armrests and hand-turned solid wood legs extend a delightful touch. The backrest is so comfortable that it elevates this piece to a focal point.
Furniture is again incomplete without some extra accessories. I considered adding this premium woolen carpet, which is handmade, tufted, and bound on the edges. The Persian design makes it more intriguing and brings extra elegance to my living room.
Paintings and Sculptures: Although furniture is required, but what about the walls? There is often a corner that strives to bring beauty to the space.
In order to accomplish that, I ordered a surreal wood mosaic sculpture constructed of pine, sheesham, plywood, and wood sealer. It is a peacemaker in and of itself, causing the viewer to connect with emotions and rationality in a twisted mind.
Apkainterior.com is certainly a savior, in my opinion. Each category has such a diverse assortment of products that it appears to cater to practically any customer's preferences. I got exactly what I wanted for my house, and I have no regrets or complaints.
Written By,
Pragya Tejaswi Toppo
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
reaffirming my ❤️ for മലയാളം
1. A Palindrome
Malayalam is perhaps the world’s only language that is a palindrome when written in English.
The word Malayalam is a combination of 2 words – ‘Mala’ meaning ‘mountain’ and ‘Alam’ meaning ‘region’. Thus the word literally means ‘the mountain region’.
The term originally refers to the land under the Chera dynasty. Later on, it became the name of the region’s language.
Until the 16th century, Malayalam, referred to by several other closely related names, including Malayanma and Malayalama.
2. A classical language with origins in Tamil
The popularly held opinion is that the Malayalam language evolved from Middle Tamil between the 9th and 13th centuries. Until then it was a western coastal dialect of Tamil.
However, there is also a contrary view that Malayalam did not originate from Tamil. Rather, both Malayalam and Tamil evolved from a common ancestor known as ‘Proto Tamil-Malayalam’.
‘Manipravalam’ was a macaronic language used in certain Malayalam language texts before it established its modern form in the 16th century. It was a combination of Tamil and Sanskrit.
The Manipravalam language and its script influence the modern form of the language greatly, so much so that Malayalam continues to be the one Dravidian language with extensive Sanskrit influence.
In 2013 Malayalam accorded the status of classical language by the Government of India.
3. Malayalam has some of the most complicated alphabets
Written in the Brahmic script, Malayalam has 15 vowels, 42 consonants, and certain other symbols. In fact, the language has some of the most specific and complicated sounds represented in letters. Equivalent differences hardly exist in other Indian languages.
There are 2 separate alphabets to denote the sound ‘r’- one for ‘r’ (ര) as in Spanish tres and the other for ‘ṟ’ (റ) as in Spanish Rojo. Equivalent pronunciation differences do not exist in English or Hindi.
Malayalam also has the alphabet ‘ഴ’(zha) which pronounced like the rhotic r as in ‘purse’ in English. This rhotic consonant is absent in almost all other Indian languages.
There are 2 separate consonants for the sound ‘l’ – one for ‘l’ (ല) as in ‘language’ and the other for ḷ (ള ) as in ‘plumber’.
4. Distinct nasal tones
Nasal sounds form an indispensable part of the spoken form of the Malayalam language.
The most basic pronoun ‘me’ is a nasal tone, pronounced as ‘ñaan’, where the ‘ña’ sounds like the NY in ‘canyon’. So is the nasal sound ‘ng’ as in ‘sing’ used extensively.
Several words that may have equivalent forms in other Indian languages like Hindi, take on a nasal tone in pronunciation in Malayalam.
For example in the Hindi word ‘Sundar’, the d sound distinctly pronounced in the NDA cluster.
However, in the equivalent Malayalam word ‘Sundaram’, the d sound becomes silent in the NDA cluster and instead pronounced as ‘sunnaram’, producing a distinct nasal tone in its place.
5. The Malayalam script was literally and figuratively ‘moulded’ for the printing press
The original Malayalam script that began as what is called the Vattelettu, has undergone significant changes. These changes made so as to accommodate the needs of making moulds for the printing press.
Until Benjamin Bailey, a British missionary brought the printing press to Kerala, Malayalam was written and printed in the Grantha script with square type fonts.
In 1829, Bailey ushered in a momentous change in the history of Malayalam by replacing these with the round script that is used to date.
The script from Bailey underwent further changes as the needs of the press changed. Local newspapers like the Malayala Manorama have done significant changes in the script.
6. The European hand in Malayalam
Not just Benjamin Bailey, several Europeans have had a decisive role in the development of the modern form of Malayalam language.
The first book to have Malayalam script printed in it was the Hortus Malabaricus, written in Latin by Henrik Van Rheede, the Governor of Dutch Malabar in 1678.
First Malayalam book Sampkshepa Vedartham which came out in 1772 didn’t publish anywhere in India but in Rome!
The first dictionary in Malayalam compiled by German scholar Herman Gundert. He has also extensively written about and codified Malayalam grammar.
7. Malayalam was written in multiple scripts by different communities
Before the evolution of the modern script, different communities in Kerala adopted Malayalam into the script of their liturgical languages.
Arabi-Malayalam is a script still in limited use among the Muslim community of Kerala. It is a variant form of the Arabic script used to write Malayalam.
Suriyani Malayalam or Syriac Malayalam was a script in popular use among the Saint Thomas Christians of Kerala, also known as the Nasranis. Malayalam, adopted into the Syriac alphabet with certain additional orthographic changes.
8. Distinct Dialects
Though not as many dialects as other Dravidian languages like Tamil, significant variations exist in spoken Malayalam.
The Dravidian encyclopedia enlists regional dialects of Malayalam into 13 dialect areas.
Caste and communal dialects are visible in Malayalam. The spoken form of Malayalam among the Mappila Muslims of Kerala has considerable influence on Arabic and Persian. Portuguese, Greek, and Syriac words find their way into certain dialects spoken by Christian communities.
While Hebrew, Syriac, and Ladino were dominant in Judeo Malayalam- a dialect spoken by the Cochin Jews who are virtually non-existent now in Kerala.
Jeseri and Byaare are 2 dialects of Malayalam that are extremely divergent from the Malayalam spoken in mainland Kerala.
While Jeseri is spoken in Lakshadweep, Byaare is spoken in Northern Kerala and Southern Karnataka.
9. A plethora of Loan Words
Malayalam is heavily influenced by several other languages that it consists of too many loan words.
These loan words that have come from languages like Portuguese, Dutch, and Arabichave become so ingrained into the everyday usage of Malayalam.
Common words in Malayalam for chair (kasera), table (mesha), pen (pena), paper (kadalas) and window (janala) all come from the Portuguese words cadeira, mesa, pena, cartez, and Janela respectively.
Malayalam has also given loanwords to Portuguese. The Portuguese words for jackfruit (jaca), teak (teca), and jaggery (jagra) have its origins in the Malayalam words chakka, thekku, and chakkara respectively.
In fact, the very word for toilet in Malayalam, ‘kakkoos’ comes from the Dutch ‘kakhuis’!
Arabic and Persian influences also abound in the language.
10. ‘New Gen’ slang words
Thanks to Malayali youngsters, the language now has a repository of ‘new gen’ words. These are existing Malayalam words that have taken on completely new meanings and connotations according to the changing times.
Social media and movies have boosted the popularity of these new words.
‘Thallu’ which originally means ‘to push’ is one of the most popular ‘new-gen’ slang. Thallu now refers to any statement that comes off as boasting.
‘Theppu’ is another latest addition which means ‘to ditch’ a lover. However, the word originally means ‘to iron something’.
‘Pani Kitti’ is a phrase that popularly meant ‘got a job’ until a few years back. But now it means that you’ve landed up in trouble!
The Malayalam language is as interesting and versatile as Kerala. Cultural transactions with a plethora of communities from across the world have shaped the language.
In a constant state of evolution, the next time you explore the language, Malayalam will have added a whole new set of quirky facts to itself!
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Little Bird: Chapter 25 (NSFW)
Read on AO3. Part 24 here. Part 26 here.
Summary: All right, well, I guess no one's gonna go swimming in that pool, anymore.
Words: 6600
Warnings: cw--a kylorengarbagedump special: tons of graphic violence and gratuitous bloodplay
Characters: Kylo Ren x Handmaid!Reader
A/N: HI, HELLO, what the fuck am I doing! I'd like to give thanks to @faestae and John Wick for this chapter. Without them, I'd be completely fucked. For some reason, I keep writing shit that demonstrates how little I know about writing anything other than sex. Please let me know what you thought! I'm interested to see what people think about this bit.
I love y'all so very much! Thank you for always offering kindness and encouragement. <3
You hadn’t taken your eyes off of your Commander since entering the car, hoping that, if you stared long enough, you’d be able to identify any hint of emotion, any flicker of feeling in his inscrutable expression. But Kylo Ren sat, back against the partition, hands at his sides, a veneer of distance cast over his face. The harder you looked, the further away he seemed--like a void, emptying itself, slowly, of vulnerability.
“Do you know how long I’ve known your Commander?” said Snoke. You felt his spider-leg gaze crawling over your figure. “Since he was a boy.”
Unsure if you were supposed to respond, you dipped your head in the tiniest nod you could muster.
“And there was a period where he disagreed, you know. With the idea of Gilead. Did you know that?”
Ren was solid, unmoving, staring through the back windshield. He didn’t blink, didn’t twitch. Swallowing, you allowed yourself to peer over at Snoke. He was watching you expectantly.
“Um.” To be fair, you did know that--you just didn’t know to what degree, and for how long. “I didn’t know that, no.”
“Well, it’s true.” His focus drifted back to Ren. “He was so unsure of himself, back then. Couldn’t ever make a decision. Afraid to let himself achieve what he was truly capable of.” A dark, breathy laugh escaped him. “He was so sensitive, so scared.”
There, right below his nose, you saw it--a twinge of muscle.
“But, thankfully, he’s resolved those doubts, now.” A wicked smile twisted through his skin. “Haven’t you, Ren?”
His eyes, like slate, met Snoke’s for a millisecond. “Yes.”
“Yes.” Now Snoke turned his attention to you. “He believes, like I do, in the roles of society. In the order we can provide by enforcing them.” A glance at Ren. “Isn’t that right, boy?”
“Yes.” His back straightened.
“He agrees with me that Handmaids are one of those unfortunate necessities of society,” Snoke said. “If we had a perfect world, we wouldn’t need you at all.” He shrugged. “For now, both of you have your roles. Separate and equal.”
Not that nonsense again. It sounded just as repulsive as when it had come out of Ren’s mouth. “I think we’re both more than that.” You peered at your Commander, who observed you with guarded confusion. “More than our roles.”
Snoke’s eyes sparkled with some sick delight. “Really, now.” He looked to Ren. “We have to make sacrifices, don’t we. To ensure our vision survives to the next generation.”
He averted his gaze, nodded. “Yes, sir.”
“You’ve made many sacrifices for Gilead, Ren.”
Snoke’s hand laid on your knee, squeezing it, red fabric bunching in his skeletal grip. Your throat thickened with fear, your breath stolen. Ren’s chest filled with slow, tense air, his jaw tight. The knife in your sleeve seemed to sear you with its presence--you imagined whipping it out, swiping the button, slamming the blade right into the old man’s wrinkled neck. Instead, you sat there, watching his hand creep higher, your focus switching between his fingers and your Commander.
Do what you wish with it.
If you tried to attack him now, here, in his car, both you and Ren would end up dead. You shoved the urge into the bottom of your brain, chin trembling as the bony excuse for a hand grazed your thigh--Snoke’s eyes were trained on Ren, daring him to move.
But he did nothing.
A whirr of a winding engine cut through the silence, and Snoke removed his hand--you sagged with relief. He rolled down the window, making a quick motion with his wrist, the limo stopping for a brief moment. Then it pushed forward, past a gated entrance staffed with at least two guards armed with rifles. Fear dug its claws into your chest.
The limo coasted up a long, winding driveway, up to what you could only define as a mansion, and came to a halt. Snoke glanced at the both of you, popping the door open.
“We’ve arrived,” he said. “Come, now.”
Ren met your eyes for a brief, electric second before he exited the vehicle. Steeling your nerves, you followed, feeling significantly hampered by the rustling of your dress. As you clambered into the sun, you breathed the heavy summer air and glanced over the property.
A white stone gate with the pair of sentries encircled a ring of decorative topiaries, bushels of red flowers poking through the mulched landscape. The driveway looped like a racetrack through the yard, up to the bleached cement plaza that opened to a glittering fountain pond. The center of the fountain was dominated by a marble carving of Jesus on the cross, his head craned toward the sky, water gushing in clear, noisy rivers from his hands and crown. In front of you, the staired entrance led to a grand, columned pavilion that guided you toward the front door, a glass and iron arch with concentric rows of windows radiating out to the walls.
All of this might have been beautiful, you thought, had you not been a slave, invited with your owner under the pretense of interrogation.
That, and the two guards coming to escort you to the entrance--also armed, of course.
They bookended you in a line--Snoke, Ren, and you--through the front door, into the vaulted foyer, ivory granite floors stretching out into a wide parlor room, light streaming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. Through them, you spied the backyard, complete with a glimmering Tuscan-style pool, enclosed also by that same white stone. And more guards marching in assignment.
Silent, you kept close to your Commander’s heels as you all climbed the one of the two curved staircases, ascending past an enormous chandelier, tiers of glowing crystal casting flakes of light onto your skin. Despite its warmth, at the last step, you fell cold--there were still more riflemen at the top. The guards ushered you down an empty hall to an open door. They stood at either side of the entrance, and, blood escaping your face, you followed Ren and Snoke inside.
Cherry wood-panelled walls wrapped the oval stone floor, a circular Persian rug rolled out underneath a huge teak desk. It was accompanied by a tall Chesterfield throne upholstered in red leather, two smaller, sister chairs attending the sides. Behind the desk, built-in shelves were lined with heavy, hardbound tomes, all illuminated by two sets of double-necked glass sconces at the two ends of the room.
You stood next to Ren, hands strangling each other as Snoke closed the door and wandered around to the head of his desk. His stride was slow, deliberate, crossing the room like it was slick with molasses. Arriving at his chair, he opened one of the drawers, carding through it before pulling out a folder and plopping it on the flat surface. With precision, he plucked a few pages from it, pushing them forward.
“Do you remember signing these, Ren?”
Kylo Ren’s eyes flicked between the paper and his superior. “Yes.”
“Your very first acceptance to the order,” Snoke said, gazing at it. “The evidence of your commitment.” He turned his attention to you. “You said that you think you’re more than your roles. But I know that isn’t the case.”
You cleared your throat, spine straightening. “And I know it is.”
“You’d be wrong,” Snoke said. “Because Kylo Ren is a facade. An identity--a role. Just like yours.” He paused, waiting for Ren to react. He didn’t. “Before he was Kylo Ren, he was a lost, lonely little boy. Always winding up in fights. Parents too busy to care.”
Ren rolled his tongue along the inside of his teeth, but said nothing.
“But I saw potential in him. Didn’t I, boy?” Snoke offered him a small grin. “I could see the greatness, the cunning, the power you could have.”
“You did,” Ren muttered.
“And this is all you’ve become. Your heart hasn’t hardened. You’re soft. You could never hope to be Kylo Ren.” He sighed, and leered at him. “And I’m disappointed to see that this is the case.”
He was silent, chin raising, stare toward the floor.
“You’re still fighting it, aren’t you?” When he didn’t respond, Snoke’s entire face twisted in a frown. “Answer me, boy.”
“I’m not.”
“No?” Snoke opened the top drawer of his desk and produced a massive silver revolver, tossing it on the desk with a thunk. “Prove it,” he said. “Shoot her.”
Your heart shot between your ears, eyes darting between Snoke, Ren, the gun, Snoke, Ren, the gun, Snoke, Ren, the gun. Kylo Ren was as unreadable as ever--he considered the revolver as if Snoke had thrown down a ballpoint pen. A tiny breath escaped him.
“Everything I’ve done has been for Gilead--my commitment has never wavered--”
“Don’t lie to me, boy!” Snoke’s gaze flashed with barely-leashed rage. “I see how you respond when I touch her, I can feel your weakness for her.”
Ren’s lip twitched. “Weakness. For a Handmaid.”
“I know your mind, Ren. I know every little thought that goes through your brain. Your impulses are raw, you allow Gilead to suffer under your foolishness. This paper...” He held it up, pointing to the signature--beautiful, loopy letters that read Ben Solo. “The boy that signed it still lives. And he is weak.”
Snoke pushed off the desk, stalked over to you--before you could even think to move, his hand gnarled in your hair, fingers scraping like screws over your scalp. You whimpered, thinking to scream, to fight, to beg--but worried Snoke would shoot you himself if you did.
“Show me who you’re meant to be, Kylo Ren.” He ripped you to the floor, shoving you onto your knees near his feet. Then, at the back of your head--something hard. Cold. Another gun. “Or I’ll show you myself.”
In the back of your mind, it seemed strange--for all the scenarios you’d imagined being on your knees in front of your Commander, this had never been one of them. Terror shuddered you, but you stilled the quaking of your flesh, meeting Ren’s eyes, sticking your chin into the air. He stared into you and through you, hooking into your hidden fear, finding himself there. Your chests rose and fell with the same breath, lips parting with the same awful knowledge--there was no scenario where he could save you, no reality where your story could’ve had a different ending. For all of your emptiness, loneliness, wanton need, this was your destiny--two souls, desperate to know the other, denied for every unchangeable reason fate could offer.
Part of you knew that Ren had to kill you. Part of you hoped against hope that, somehow, he wouldn’t.
But then he moved. And he picked up the gun.
“Good,” Snoke said. “Good.”
Ren stepped toward you, face blank, and aimed the revolver until it was inches from your head. You gazed at him, thankful that you’d known relief at least once in the past few years, somehow more thankful that he’d been the one to give it to you. Heat stung your eyes. You wouldn’t cry, not now. You’d wished for death too many times at this point to begrudge its arrival.
“Good choice, my boy,” Snoke said. He jerked your scalp. “Would you like to have a prayer for your last words?”
He scoffed. “What use does a dog have for prayer?”
A hearty chuckle. “Oh, I’m nothing if not a man of God.”
“Last prayer, then.” Ren blinked. “Do what you wish with it.”
In your chest, breath hitched, your pulse flying. The switchblade. Swallowing, you glanced at the floor to Snoke’s foot beside you, then back up, meeting Ren’s eyes. A spark, a crooked crackle of light--you were seeing them, seeing him, seeing yourself, a reflection, an echo, pure resonance in the emptiness of his mind--and in that moment, you knew.
You knew him.
Clearing your throat, you began, “O, Lord Jesus…”
You pressed your palms together, bowing your head to conceal them as you used the heel of your hand to guide the blade up your sleeve.
“... pour into me the spirit of your love…”
The handle poked through the edge of fabric, the wooden scales cool and smooth. Your tongue was paper, scratching at your mouth.
“... that in the hour of my death…”
With the switchblade fully encased in your hands, your finger dipped to find the safety and flick it free. Perspiration had it slip in your grip, and you flinched for only a second, pinching it tight between your palms.
“... I may be worthy to vanquish the enemy…”
Your thumb fumbled for the safety, now, finding it behind your sweaty skin.
“... and receive the heavenly crown.”
Pushing it up, you drew a long, deep breath through your nose. Ren cocked his gun.
“Amen.”
The blade sprung free, and you drove it, a stake, straight into Snoke’s hapless foot. He screamed, his gun clattering to the floor--in that instant, Ren cocked a brow, raised the revolver, and fired. Snoke blew back, blood spattering your crown, a crimson spray cast over the desk, onto Ren’s face, and the body hit the floor behind you with a fleshy thud.
You blinked, gasping, trembling, too terrified to look behind you, too anxious to not confirm he was dead. A quick peek--a massive crater in the lifeless facade of his skull--and you swallowed, looking to Kylo Ren, without breath, without speech, without pretense. His eyes were wide and wild, his chest heaving with something like excitement--then, outside the study, the guards stirred.
“Commander Snoke?” one asked.
Ren glanced at the door. His pupils swallowed his irises, and at the corner of his lips, a smirk. He tore off his tie, tossed his suit jacket onto the floor, back and shoulders swelling like mountains underneath his shirt.
“We’re coming in, sir.”
“Get down,” he muttered as he cocked the gun, aiming it at the door. “Come in.”
You scrambled to the side of the desk and tore off your wings so you could see, curling over your knees, and the door squeaked open. The moment the guard’s head breached the entrance, Ren fired, and you jolted--blood spurted, painting the wall, the body dropped. A second guard flung the door back, rushing Ren before he could reload, but Ren threw his elbow into the man’s chin, wringing his arm around his neck and shoving him to the ground. He drove his heel into the guard’s neck before cocking the gun and blowing a hole through his face.
Heart flying in your chest, you stared at him, mouth open, almost unable to believe what you’d just seen. In the recording, you’d heard Snoke call him a warrior--you just hadn’t known until now what that meant.
“We’re moving.” Ren stalked over and snatched your wrist, but you winced.
“Hold on!” You tugged away and snagged the switchblade from Snoke’s foot, sheathing it and shoving it back up your sleeve.
“Come.” He grabbed you again, leading you over the leaking lump of the guard and into the hall.
As you breached the threshold and crossed the hall, two guards turned the corner--the ones from the top of the stairs. Kylo Ren shoved you behind him, gunshots spearing your ears, a body falling; then he slammed you against the wall, the trill of wide rifle bullets whizzing by your skull. You screamed, covered your head, and Ren reached out, wresting the barrel of the offending gun and wrenching the guard flush with his chest--he shoved the revolver up to his chin and fired, viscera erupting from the man’s eye sockets and coating you both.
You gagged, mind whirling--but Ren was crazed, rippling with the heat of exhilaration. He ditched the revolver and tucked the rifle under his arm, shrugging the body off and grabbing you again. Ren hugged you tight to his frame as he marched through the halls; panting, you gazed up at him, futilely trying to process that he had not only murdered his leader, but now apparently planned to gun down the entirety of this estate--when he all he had to do instead was kill you.
He cursed when you reached the steps. A pair of guards was posted at both sets of stairs--and, seeing you, they shouted and charged. Ren’s attention darted between them, landed on the chandelier. He shouldered you back, running forward and leaping from the banister. You squeaked, hands clapping your mouth--but he grappled the chain, feet stumbling over the metal frame as the crystal behemoth swung like a sparkling pendulum in the foyer. The guards hollered, racking their rifles--but Ren fired first.
Using the chandelier like an assassination assistant, Ren pinned the gun to his body and pulled the trigger, spitting a storm of bullets into the staircase, littering pockmarks over the walls. The guards quailed, ducked--Ren jerked the fixture’s chain, rolling his legs down, and he spun, a carousel of death, firing next at the guards climbing the other steps. These two were not so lucky--you caught hot streams of blood splash over the balustrade, and then Ren swung again, crystals clinking like chimes as the chandelier bowed in wide arcs. Face tight with frenzy, he fired, and you watched the bodies crumple like marionettes and tumble down the stairs.
Bobbing in the air, he cast his gaze around the room, back hunched, an animal starved. You grimaced, crawled forward, gripping the banister, and when he met your eyes, he shifted, making to swing.
“Stop!” came a voice from the back of the home.
From underneath the balcony, you saw two guards run forward, rifles pointed up--before you could shout, they fired into the ceiling, clouds of crystal fragments spewing into the air. Ren wobbled, dodging with surprising grace, then flung the chandelier back.
You watched him, lids wide, as he stepped, one foot, another foot, skating over the steel and lurching forward, yanking on the chain like a rope and throwing his legs into the air. His other arm, still occupied with the rifle, swung down, and as he launched himself toward the banister, he fired, sparks snapping, the chain severed. Ren connected with the railing as the chandelier exploded to the floor, crushing the two guards in a splintering spew of metal and glass. Without thinking, you scampered to him, clutching his arms, straining as you helped haul him onto the balcony. He stumbled to his feet and ripped you up by your wrist.
“Commander--”
“Quiet.”
Adrenaline coursed through him into you, absorbed like warmth through your skin. He dragged you down the steps, tossing his current gun and grabbing a new one while you fled over the ragdolled corpses covering your path. In your dress, it was difficult to maneuver, but Ren pulled you through, jaw set firm, ravenous fury dancing in waves from his body. His eyes were focused and feral, a predator, a true, live killer, consumed with a hunger you’d never before seen--not up close.
He led you toward the front door--beyond the mottled glass, you could spy a pair of guards sneaking close, decked in armor, guns raised. Cursing, he doubled back, your arm popping while he hauled you toward the other end of the home. Then two more guards, also in armor, crept across the pool deck in the same formation, heading toward wherever the back entrance was. Grumbling, Ren tore to the right, wringing you forward--you’d been thrust into a huge kitchen, replete with white quartz countertops and oak cabinetry. You had little time to admire it before he shoved you under the hood of the breakfast nook. Breathless, you pulled your knees to your chest, trying to become as small and unnoticeable as possible.
Slinging the gun over his shoulder, he grabbed two long knives from the butcher block on the counter, sidling up to the wall next to an archway that opened to what appeared like a mudroom. The first sentry peered around the corner, and Kylo Ren snarled, driving the knife through the man’s throat. He choked, gasped, writhing as he fell to the ground, rivers of blood spilling over the floor. The second guard flinched, went to raise his rifle at Ren--but the second of hesitation sealed his fate. Ren jammed his foot into the man’s chest, knocking him onto his back, and stomped his face before shifting the rifle into his hands and ending him with a pop, pop.
Flustered with fear, you made to move--and then spotted that the two guards from the front had made their way into the home, crossing into the kitchen. Before you could warn Ren, one fired, a quick burst, striking him in the side. He roared, crumpling to the floor, a bloom of bright blood staining his side--your body burst with fear, with rage, your mind making decisions without a second of uncertainty.
As the guards pushed toward Ren, you threw yourself into their path, a human speedbump; they tripped, stumbled over you, over each other, trampling you as they both collapsed to the ground. You craned your neck to see your Commander--he seethed as he stood, punching himself in his wound, each strike punctuated with a furious grunt.
Kylo Ren flipped the free knife into the air, caught it by the handle, and sneered, stabbing one of the guards through the eye--his body jerked, twitched on top of you, and Ren rolled the other man with his foot, aiming his rifle at his exposed face and riddling it with holes. You squealed as his frame jolted with the shots, trying to scramble free--but Ren caught you by the arm again, prying you to your feet. He started toward the back door, but you jerked away--he spun, hair tossed in choppy waves over his face, teeth bared, entire form trembling with the throes of bloodlust.
“The--the front,” you managed to eke out. “You’re injured, let’s get out of here.”
He growled, seizing your wrist and tugging you forward. “We’re not done yet.”
You swallowed. This was no longer about escaping. It was about revenge.
Led through the mudroom in the wake of his wrath, Ren discarded you to the side of the door and shouldered it open. Two guards stood, anticipating, at the exit, two more chasing around the pool. Your Commander wrapped one of the guards in a headlock, using him as a shield while he surged forward, facing the closest guard while shooting over his arm at the other two. They shook, barraged with bullets, toppling back until they both splashed into the pool, crimson fog weeping into the water. The guard in his grip kicked back, and he faltered--the man closest to him took this as an opportunity to lunge, and smashed into Ren, knocking him and his hostage to the ground.
Chest tightening, you made to move, but hesitated--what would you do? Shoot them? Your brain raced with the possibilities--at this point, you’d picked up a pistol, but you’d never pictured yourself as someone who could end a life. You’d also never pictured yourself as someone who would speak back to the lead Commander of Gilead, get belted over a knee, have her pussy stuffed with a gun, or feel worry for the man who owned her.
That last one caught you by surprise--you weren’t just worried, you were terrified. And not for yourself, but for him.
Kylo Ren rolled as the other guard approached, his rifle raised--he ducked behind his captive, using him like a barrier and reached down to the man’s side, stealing a handgun from his belt. The other guard went to dodge, but was blasted in the face with two shots, raining blood over the brick patio, crumpling to his knees and smacking the ground.
Caught in a struggle, Ren went to shoot his final victim through the skull--but the man had already produced a knife from the other side of his belt, and slashed up, ripping Ren across the shoulder and slicing his face. He howled in pain, and the guard took the opportunity to tear himself free, scurrying to his feet, reaching for the gun in Ren’s hand.
Something possessed you--fear, indignity, affection, something--and you dashed through the door, grappled a gun from the corpse closest to you, and cocked it. Maybe, before Gilead, you weren’t a person who could end a life. But now, you were a survivor. And you would be damned if you or your Commander would die here.
Taking the pistol in both hands, you aimed at the guard’s torso. “Hey!” you shouted for absolutely no reason. He glanced over, confused. “Fuck you!”
You pulled the trigger, ears ringing--the bullet nailed his chest, and he staggered, jaw dropped, perhaps wondering if he had really just been shot by a Handmaid. Ren, face smothered scarlet, swung to his feet, swiping the knife from the ground. He snatched the man mid-fall, hoisted him into the air and, snarling, shredded his throat with the blade. A geyser of blood gushed from his neck, bathing Ren in its fever, soaking his shirt, coating the curls of his hair. His shoulders crowded with the desperate cycle of his lungs as he loosened his grip, letting the body hit the ground, crimson bubbles seeping from the wound.
Hands quaking, you lowered your arms, dropped the gun. You couldn’t find your breath, chest fighting for air. Ren turned, eyes tracing the bodies, until finally, they landed on you. Heat hit you, strangled you, wrapped you like wire in a suffocating, powerful, need. Both of you, sprayed with blood, panting, aching--everything you had done, you’d done for the other. His transgressions faded to shadows in your mind. Against every single governmental pillar and logical instinct, you were alive because of him. And you wanted nothing more, now, than to be in his arms.
The word fled your lips, a caged dove. “Kylo…”
Kylo Ren threw down the knife, rushing you, and your feet moved too, carrying you on feathers to him, until your bodies connected, his arms coiling around you, his mouth bruising yours, the taste of iron fresh between your teeth. He was damp with blood, his skin spilled copper into your nose--but despite it all, you groaned, flooded with passion, burning in his embrace. Ren’s tongue drove into your mouth, his hand cupping the back of your head, wetting your hair as he crushed you to his frame. Thighs thrumming with desire, you kissed him back, nipping his lip, threading your fingers through his sticky waves--he moaned, crumbling to his knees, his hold taking you with him.
“You saved me,” you muttered against his lips. “You saved--”
Ren silenced you with a kiss. “Little bird...” He nibbled the line of your jaw, jerking a fistful of hair and burying his face in it, inhaling deep. “Get these clothes off.”
You shivered. “Yes, sir.”
Keeping his gaze, you gathered the hem of your dress and peeled it over your head, his eyes leaping over every bit of exposed flesh as it was revealed to him. You tossed it and your switchblade to the side, his hands grappling with your hips, sliding up your sides, smearing crimson over your skin. Whimpering, you reached toward your feet, pulling your boots off and throwing them to the side, attempting valiantly to remain kneeling while you inched your underwear down your hips and over your calves. Ren watched, trained on your naked cunt, as you finally flung it behind you.
When you went to begin the arduous task of unhooking your bra, Ren growled, your knees scraping across the pool deck as he yanked you into an impatient kiss. You whined in pain, soothed by his soft lips working yours, new blood from the wound on his face dribbling into your mouths and over your wrestling tongues. He wrested your tits from your bra, dying them red, thumbs skating delight over your stiffening nipples. Moaning, you writhed into his chest, and he gripped your face, nails scraping your scalp while he pulled you closer, groaning into you, leaning--you followed him, chasing his kiss until he was on his back, your legs straddling him, palms planted on his chest.
A soft, anxious breath escaped his throat, and he swirled his tongue over yours before biting your lip and pushing you up, hands settling on your thighs, rocking you back and forth over his thick erection. He watched you, panting in rhythm with you, and you admired him--how fucking beautiful he was, even (or especially) doused in blood--his eyes stark with need, his mouth parted in open anticipation, his muscles tensing as he gripped and squeezed you, jerking his hips into your heat. If he was in any pain at all from the gash on his face or the bullets in his side, it didn’t show--he rolled into you as if he cared for nothing other than the sight of your body over his own.
“Are you okay?” You placed your hands on his, squeezing them.
Ren frowned and swatted you off, gathering both wrists behind you in a tight vise. “Interesting question to pose while you’re already grinding onto me.”
You blushed. “I just wanted to make--”
He shoved two bloodied fingers in your mouth, depressing your tongue, cranking your jaw open. “Ask me again after I’ve fucked that little cunt raw.”
Shuddering, you clenched, and nodded.
“There we go.” He released your tongue, popping your wrists back--your tits swayed from the movement, and he hummed in satisfaction, kneading and groping at the flesh, teasing your nipples. “You’re gorgeous…”
“Oh…” Submerged in desire, you could barely process his words. He twitched underneath you, drawing another spasm from your core. “Kylo…”
He sucked in air through his teeth, digging his fingers into your breast. “You want my cock? Hm?” He reached down, brushed his thumb over your clit, and you whined. “You want me inside you, slut?”
“Fuck,” you whispered. “Fuck, yes, please.”
“Good girl…”
Ren kept his grip on your wrists, working at his pants until he’d managed to pull his long, heavy cock free. You ached at the sight of it, wanting to slide it between your folds, feel it pulse inside you, bask in its swollen heat. Ren slapped it against you and shifted his hips, pushing you higher, hand stroking his length as he guided it to your entrance. Stoked on adrenaline, on some sort of intoxicating infatuation, you were wet and wanting and warm with need--you sank onto him, crying out when he broke you open, letting him drive deep into your belly.
“God,” you hissed, “you feel so good…”
He throbbed at the base, rutting up into you and popping your wrists again. “Shh.” His free hand clutched your hip. “I’ll tell you when to speak, little bird,” he muttered. “Be quiet and take this cock.”
Ren’s strength overwhelmed you--he slammed you from below, fucking up into you, forcing gasps and squeals from your lungs. Bliss blazed through your blood as the force of his thrusts throttled you, body quaking, breasts bouncing. His face was screwed in a twist of lust and effort, lip furled, strangled growls escaping his chest--he pumped hard, fast, pinching you in his hands as his own pleasure built.
“Fuck,” he growled, “that’s right--do you like that?”
“Yes…” The words were as unfiltered as you were. “I love it…”
“Good--good girl.” His stare devoured you while you rode him. “So beautiful… so perfect…” A hand glided up your side, cupping one of your tits. “And all mine…” He grunted, punished you with a particularly hard thrust--you yelped. “Say it.”
A twinge in your heart, distant and irritating. “But I--”
He yanked your wrists, straining your shoulders, branding a bruise into your breast with his fingers. “Say it.” His pace switched, and he rammed your cunt with brutal, deep strokes, striking your cervix with white streaks of pain. “You’re mine.”
“Kylo--”
Ren seethed, throwing you off of him and onto your back, wincing when he loomed over you, and he pounded his side, hissing in pain. Your eyes widened--in seconds, he’d spiraled into mania, his face wrought with possessive fervor while his fist pummeled his wound. If he’d looked beautiful before, now it was sinful: dark hair matted in messy clumps around his crown, his brow drawn in focus, his shirt, torn from the knife, flopping over to reveal his bare chest, showered with blood. He peeled your legs wide, ankles in his fists as he lifted your ass from the ground--and, sneering, he split you, cock cleaving your cunt. In pleasure, you sobbed.
“Fuck,” he growled again. “You’re so fucking tight…” Ren started fucking into you, slipping in to the hilt, hips hitting yours with loud slaps. “You feel so good around my cock…”
Whinging, you lolled your head on the deck-- his words sent a torrent of yearning through your flesh, and your clit screeched for attention, but part of you knew that touching it yourself would deny you release altogether. So you stared at him, chin tucked to your chest, each stroke bringing new, desperate breath to your lungs as your back scratched the smooth stone underneath you.
“Nothing to stop me,” he said, “nothing to keep me from you.” He jerked you closer, and you wailed from the depth of his thrusts. “You’re going to be mine…”
“Kylo--”
“No,” he hissed. “Say it.” He propped one of your legs on his shoulder, his hand diving between your legs to rub your clit, covering it in blood--you cried out, clenching, convulsing, pleasure creeping into your vision. “Say you want to be mine.”
The earth turned beneath you. Everything, all of it had been for you, but not in the way that you had hoped. No, it had been to alter the universe to his own whims, to construct a galaxy where he could possess you, keep you, trap you in a tiny, wire cage. His little bird.
You wouldn’t accept that--not after today. You couldn’t.
“Only if--ah--you’re mine, too,” you replied. “I can’t just be yours! You--you have to be mine!”
“What have I told you?” Ren groaned, deep and low. “If that’s what you want…” He gathered some of the blood from his face onto his thumb. “Then you’ll want for nothing.” He slicked your clit while he fucked you, the fluid warm and wet and spinning you to the height of euphoria. “Say it.”
“I’m--I’m yours!” You shut your lids, awash in the elated reality of his admission. “I’m yours, Kylo!”
“Cum then,” he ordered, “cum on this fucking cock...”
You were drawn and quartered by ecstasy, spine arcing toward the sky as your core clamped his dick, limbs shuddering with the waves of your epinephrine-injected climax. Ren growled, leaning over you to hammer into your cunt, strangling his groan as he poured his cum into you, rolling his hips until he was empty--empty of rage, lust, and energy.
Swallowing, you heaved, eyes fluttering open, seeking out your Commander’s gaze. Not that his position mattered, in this hazy purgatory of existence. In this moment, the laws and regulations of Gilead didn’t apply to you and Ren. You’d defied them, destroyed them all. Together.
Something, some emotion you’d wrestled into submission so many times before slithered out of its grave--like hope, but more poignant, more powerful, not just the faith that you could survive. No, it was the dream that you could thrive, that Gilead would crumble underneath both of your feet, that--maybe--you could take a canvas and paint a future with him in it.
Locking eyes, you spied it there, too, beyond the lowered shield of his anger: a mirror of your mind. His hand fell between your breasts, his lip quivering, fingers skimming down your sensitive, starlight skin. How long you laid there, you weren’t sure, but it was after his soft cock had slipped out of you, after your breath had leveled. Sweat glazed you both.
“Why did you do it?” you asked, finally. You fumbled for his hand, laid yours over it.
Ren paused, staring at the image of your hand--so much smaller--wrapped around his, analyzing it in his mind like a puzzle. His jaw tensed, and he pulled away. A piece of your heart wilted.
“I told you,” he said, beginning to adjust himself to decency. “Gilead is flawed. My vision will perfect it.” He met your eyes. “You’ll be mine. And you’ll want for nothing.”
“But…” You narrowed your lids. “You’re mine, too, then.”
“I am.” He stood, gazing over the carnage of the yard--the bodies, the blood, the dyed-red water--all of it turning rancid in the summer heat. “Your Commander.”
There it was. The mallet of his intention, shattering your dreams to disasters. It was as if you had been thrust into the pool yourself, drenched in cold, icy admonishment. How stupid, how foolish were you to imagine that Kylo Ren could consider bringing Gilead down? How short-sighted had you been to believe, for one moment, that he would ever renounce his ownership of you? How horrible, how awful were you that the tiniest, most foolish part of you wanted to accept this--agree to his terms, as long as he’d stay, somewhere, in that canvas.
He held out his hand. “Come.”
Shaking your head, you grabbed your underwear and pulled it on. It seemed silly, getting dressed when half of your clothing would be muddied with blood. You glanced up at him, mapping the wounds in his body. He was hunched, but not hampered.
“Are you really okay?”
Ren still had his hand extended. “Yes.”
You frowned, slapped it away. His eye twitched, attention switching between you and his hand--and, to your surprise, he shoved it in his pocket. You grabbed your dress, tugged it on.
“Continue getting dressed,” he said. “I’ll contact my men and tell them--”
“Hello? Who’s out there?”
The voice, tight with fear, froze you both--Ren’s fists clenched, your heart falling somewhere into your ass. From inside the mudroom, a young woman cloaked in blue emerged, and you recognized her immediately. Snoke’s robot, er, Wife. Christine. She hadn’t spoken once at the dinner.
Between the gloves, the hat, the heeled shoes, it was obvious she was just now returning home. As she surveyed the yard, her gaze fuzzied, and she tumbled into the threshold. Neither you nor Ren made a move to help her.
“What… what happened here?”
It was a fair question. But admitting you’d both participated in a coup likely wouldn’t go over well. You weren’t sure what Ren’s plan was, but you knew the Eyes could have you both killed if they learned this had been your doing.
“Commander Snoke is dead,” Ren said. “I killed--”
“The guard,” you said, glaring at him. “He killed the guard who killed Commander Snoke. After that, the entire place went up.” Looking back at her, you gestured to Ren. “You need to call an ambulance, he’s been injured.”
Christine, appearing dizzy, pushed off of the doorframe and nodded. “I’ll… I’ll get help. Just…” She waved her hands in circles. “Don’t move.”
With that, she stumbled into the home, the click of her heels growing distant.
You sneered at Ren, pulling on your boots and stuffing the switchblade in your sleeve. “You’re welcome.”
He watched you as you stood, said nothing for a moment--a twitch of pain crossed his face. “When I’m taken to the hospital, you’ll be questioned,” he said. “Say nothing. I will handle this. And when you get home, bathe and get into bed.” His eyes raked over you. “Do you understand?”
You nodded. “Yes, Kylo. I do.”
Ren exhaled, drinking you in. “I’m going to contact my men before the ambulance arrives. They’ll have work to do here.” He reached out and cupped your face. “Be good, little bird.” He patted you on the cheek, and walked into the home.
#kylo ren smut#kylo ren x reader#kylo x reader#kylo ren imagine#kylo ren#kylo trash#little bird#handmaid au#fanfiction problems#bloodplay#tw: violence#just fulfilling all my tfa and tlj fantasies in one fell swoop
170 notes
·
View notes