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pavlovianfuckery · 2 months

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how about a fucked up game of hot potato because why not

anyone else a greedy indecisive bitch or is it just me? no? this got messy as fuck and i'm sorry, i was just unbelievably thirsty

Going to bed on the night of your birthday is a somewhat gloomy affair. The day itself had been...fine, you supposed. Sure, there had been a bit of a party, a cake and a few thoughtful gifts from your closest friends. But that had been all. Nothing wrong with any of it. Still, you couldn't help being just a bit disappointed that the only one you had truly wanted to see today had been conspicuously absent. It's stupid of course, something so insignificant as somebody turning a year older would be laughably far beneath the notice of someone like him. And still.

Annoyed, you fully expect to have several sleepless hours ahead of you, so when you drift off as soon as your head hits the pillow, it's a pleasant surprise. Even more so is where you find yourself when you enter the Dreaming.

You'd been in his chambers before, of course. It might not have been very often or for very long, as the fleeting moments before waking up always seemed to pass so quickly. Arriving straight here was new. When his arms envelop you from behind you can't hold back a smile.

"Hey. I missed you today."

"Then I hope my absence can be forgiven," his voice is sly as he continues, tightening his arms around you a just fraction, "but I must confess, I wanted you all to myself when offering my gift."

Leaning back into him, you simply bask in the feeling of having him close.

"What kind of gift would that be? Nothing nefarious, I hope."

He rests his chin on your shoulder and clicks his tongue in mock disapproval, breath tickling your ear. "'Nefarious'? You wound me. That would depend entirely on what you wish for."

"I see. So the gift is a wish, then? Can I wish for anything I want?"

"Within reason, yes. Do you perhaps have a request in mind already?"

Being spoilt for choice isn't your strong suit and usually, this kind of situation would leave you at a loss and unable to make any choice at all, but for once you do know what you want. The real question is if he will go for it or not. Possibly mistaking your hesitation for reluctance, he makes you face him.

"I do have something I would like, but it's...silly." Biting your lip you turn your eyes away, unable to keep some embarrassment from showing.

"I have already seen your every fantasy, every dream. Nothing you could request would shock me," he reassures you."So go on my sweet, make your wish known, for I long to hear it."

"It's more of a combination of two different things, now that I think about it."

"Fortunately for you, I find myself in a very generous mood this evening." His tone is dry but his lips twitch into a small smile.

"Okay, so, first things first. Could I..." you take a deep breath, "Could I have more of you?"

"More in what sense?" The question doesn't faze him in the slightest, which bodes well for the other half of the request.

"In the 'more than one of you' kind of sense." Your cheeks are blazing and you almost can't believe that you just said that, but at least now the cat is out of the bag. Or one cat, at any rate.

"While we are here, in my realm, you certainly could. Is that what you want?" The way he looks at you when he asks makes lust coil in your belly, hot and heavy.

"Sort of." You plant a quick kiss on the corner of his mouth, "Do you remember..." you fiddle with the collar of his coat a bit, still feeling a bit shy about the whole thing, "when you showed me some of the things you used to wear, way back when?"

"I do." Judging by the look in his eye, he can tell where this is going. "As I recall, you rather enjoyed that."

"I did. Very much, in fact." The way he preens at that is kind of adorable.

"And was there, by any chance a...favourite?" He looks at you through lowered lashes, the way he fishes for another compliment not nearly as subtle as he would probably like to think.

"Well, you see, that's the problem, I don't think there was." You've never seen him confused before, but this comes pretty close. Figuring it's better to rip the bandaid off sooner rather than later, you go on; "I adored every version of you. How could I choose only one? I want all of you."

"Is that your wish?" You have a sneaking suspicion that he will be insufferable after this, because he looks like a cat that has eaten an entire flock of canaries, eyes gleaming. "To have one of me for every era? All at once?"

"Can I?" The thought makes your insides quiver, want making you almost dizzy. "You're not...upset with me or anything?"

That makes his eyebrows shoot up, or as close to it as you've ever seen.

"My love, how could your request possibly upset me? If anything, I am flattered that you would hunger after me so." He cups your chin in his hand and brushes his lips across yours. "I would deny you nothing, but I do have terms of my own."

"Tell me." The eagerness in your voice makes him smile again and you almost regret the whole thing immediately, because if there is one thing he doesn't particularly need, it's an ego boost.

"As it happens, my request is also twofold. Firstly, I get to watch." He slides his arms around your waist and pulls you close, and his breath is hot against your ear as he continues; "Secondly, you may have each of me only once, and after you have had your fill, I fully intend to have my own turn with you as well."

"That sounds," the thought of him watching you like that makes the words stick as if your tongue was made of flypaper and you struggle to swallow, getting the words out. "Sounds fair. Why only once though?"

"I admit my motive for that is entirely selfish; I want you lucid enough by the end of it for me to enjoy properly." The way he says it is almost a purr, and if your knees weren't weak before they're certainly starting to get there now. That he would even be willing to indulge you like this wasn't a given, but him outright enjoying it makes you almost giddy.

"Okay. So, this is a bit embarrassing but...I have no idea how this is supposed to work. I didn't really think that far ahead," you admit a bit sheepishly. "Is there anything I should keep in mind at all?"

"Did your appetite get the better of you?" That earns you an outright chuckle, though not unkind. "No matter, I will take care of you," he strokes your cheek with a soft smile. The emphasis on 'take care' doesn't go unnoticed, and it makes anticipation buzz under your skin. "The only thing I require of you tonight is that you enjoy yourself. You need not treat them any differently than myself because, in every way that matters, that is what they are."

"And you're sure that you're alright with this? I don't want you to feel like you're being left out or anything like that." You frown up at him, feeling terribly selfish.

"Your concern is touching but unnecessary, my love." He rubs his thumb over your bottom lip, his tone airy as he continues, "Anything I create for you will be connected to me, and in part, I will share in the sensations."

Flicking his eyes over your shoulder, he steps closer and kisses you deeply, pushing you to take a few steps back until you hit something solid and pair of arms circle your waist from behind. Your heart is beating against your ribs like a bird in a cage and when another pair of hands join in and slides under the hem of your shirt, it feels like all the air leaves your lungs at once. When you whimper into his mouth, he pulls back and has the absolute gall to smirk at you.

"Go on now, indulge yourself to your heart's content. I will be right here, awaiting my turn."

And with that, he saunters over to the sturdy chair by the desk and sits down, in what might be the most nonchalant way you've ever seen. Leaving you there with, well, all of him.

It's a bit like being thrown to a particularly polite pack of ravenous wolves. Being surrounded like this is a bit disorienting and with the way they all eye you hungrily, the thought that you might be in over your head this time flashes in your mind. It's surprisingly gentle though, the way you get passed from one version of him to the next, all of them stepping in close, taking turns, putting you at ease. You've always marvelled at the softness of him, of his skin, but in this mass of bodies and mouths and grasping hands, it feels like you could drown in it.

The way they undress you is no less gentle, one pair of hands passing you to the next until your bare skin is pressed against the myriad of fine fabrics. Some questionable decisions aside he has always dressed well, every texture brushing your skin feeling nothing less than luxurious. It's intense, all the teasing little touches and kisses from every direction, and they don't stop even when you feel like you might implode. The entire time you can feel the way your Morpheus watches you, his gaze on you an almost physical weight.

It's overwhelming, and your knees start to buckle. For a moment you think that you might just sink to the floor, but strong arms steady you as the closest one pulls you to him, the cloth of his tunic so lovely against your heated skin.

"It's alright," he murmurs against your lips, "I've got you."

Pushing one leg between yours he guides your hips, encouraging you to grind against it. It feels better than it has any right to, and when he backs the few steps away to the bed and hauls you on top of him, you don't resist. You're not expecting to come like this, humping his leg like a bitch in heat and ruining his trousers, but the rest of him won't stop touching you and he's watching you and it's simply too much. His slightly longer hair tickles your cheek as you hide your face in the crook of his neck, and with one last slow drag over his thigh, you come, without even meaning to.

Some silly part of your brain feels like you should be apologizing, but when you open your mouth to do just that, this version is gone and you're alone on the bed. You shoot a confused look at your Dream, sitting leisurely in the chair still.

"Did you forget my terms, my love?" He looks like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth as he reminds you, clearly enjoying himself.

Not letting it get to you, you simply set your sights on the next one. It's not as easy as you might have hoped. It's a lot like being a kid in a candy store at this point, they all look so tempting and you just want to devour every single one.

You've always enjoyed a good suit though, and the suit he'd chosen for one of the more recent versions of himself was very good. His hair is shorter than you can recall ever seeing it, and with the ruby shining at his throat, he looks every bit the distinguished gentleman. The sharp lines of the suit are a stark contrast to the rest of him, making the plush pink of his lips look even more inviting. That's probably not the effect he intended, to look kissable rather than imposing, and the thought almost makes you giggle. It doesn't stop you from approaching him and doing just that, though, grabbing hold of his lapels as you do so.

The kiss leaves you winded, the fabric of the expensive-looking suit jacket rubbing deliciously against your nipples.

"This is a good look on you," the words are a bit breathless in their delivery, but they do come easier now, inhibitions crumbling away. The shorter hair feels a bit strange in your hand, not being as much to pull on. It still works though, and he gives easily enough, letting you bite his neck gently, scraping your teeth over the creamy skin. "You should wear a suit more often."

He's a bit too perfect though, still too composed. Undoing the buttons of the vest takes some doing, but you manage it, fingers barely shaking at all. The dress shirt is a lot thinner than what you're used to, and having him so close with almost nothing separating your hands from his skin is maddening.

"Perhaps I shall," the slight curve of his lips makes you want to kiss him again but he grabs your chin, his grip surprisingly gentle as he runs his thumb across your bottom lip. "Tell me what you would like."

You can't resist flicking your tongue out, licking the pad of his finger as you consider your options. When you suck the digit into your mouth he blinks at you slowly, and you can feel him stir through his trousers. It makes your mouth water, makes you know precisely what you want.

"I want to suck you." It comes out as a sigh, full of longing. "Want to come with you in my mouth." Stroking his thighs through the deceptively thin fabric feels wonderful, the muscles of his legs firm under your hands. "Can I? Please?" When you meet his eyes, they are barely blue anymore, the way they reflect the light betraying his true nature.

"You may."

He makes dropping to your knees so easy. Something about kneeling at his feet like this feels right, and as he gets his length out and rubs the tip over your lips you can't stop a small whine from escaping.

"You have the prettiest cock I've ever seen, have I told you that?"

"No." He strokes your hair, gently encouraging you. "Show me."

It's not an order, not quite. Still, he doesn't have to tell you twice. Everything about him is so smooth, his skin like silk as you run your lips over him. At first, you simply lick at the head, teasing fat drops of pre-come out of him, lapping them up like the most precious of pearls. The way they coat your tongue is heady and it always makes you feel oddly powerful, this tangible proof of the effect you have on him. Using your hand to cover what your mouth can't, you start working him in earnest, putting on a bit of a show as you let the drool drip down your chin, drawing the loveliest noises out of him.

The long, shaky exhale as he hits the back of your throat makes you ache.

"Touch yourself for me."

You can't respond, but you can do as he says, so that is exactly what you do. It's hard to do it effectively, but you don't have to be very precise, just the sounds you coax out of him as you bob your head is enough to bring you a good part of the way on their own. From here you can see your Dream from the corner of your eye, and it looks like he wasn't being disingenuous about the "sharing the sensations" part. His cheeks are flushed, legs spread wider than before as he breathes heavily, his eyes never straying from you. Even from here, you can tell that he is painfully hard, the tightness of his jeans does nothing to hide it.

Just to see what he'll do, you decide to press your limits, just a little. In the waking world, you probably wouldn't be able to do it very easily, not like this. But this is the Dreaming, so you relax your throat and take him even further. When you swallow around him the noise he makes above you is a strangled thing and he grabs onto your shoulder, steadying himself.

"Do that again."

When you do, the Dream watching you sags in his seat, knuckles white as he grips the armrests. It doesn't take a lot after that, hearing him and tasting him and watching the way he watches you. It's not as fast as the first time, but you still come faster than you wanted to, your own fingers pushing you over the edge with a few shaky rubs. With the way he fills your throat, you can't even moan as you spasm around nothing, regretting that you hadn't asked for more, to be filled there too.

You wish you could have kept going a while longer but you had agreed to the terms and he holds you to them, though it's less of a surprise this time around. Still just as frustrating though.

"I wasn't finished with that one," you pout at him.

"You were, though." His breathing is still a bit uneven. "Would you rather argue with me, or enjoy the rest of your gift?" Before you can respond he continues, "Or have you perhaps changed your mind? I can take it back if you'd prefer."

"Now you're just being mean." It gets you to your feet and moving again though, not wanting to risk finding out that he's serious. He always looks good so making any kind of choice is still difficult, but you manage. This one you trap against the edge of the desk with your body, caging him in with your arms.

"Why the fuck," you ask, kissing his neck, "are you dressed like a priest? On second thought, don't answer that."

"You seem to like it well enough," he murmurs as you grind your hips into his.

"It's absolutely ridiculous." Twisting the voluminous sleeves you wind the fabric around your hands, using it to pin his wrists to the desk as you bite his neck, perhaps a little bit rougher than you had originally intended.

"Never have I met a creature quite as greedy as you, my love," he groans as you mark him, bruises staining his pale throat prettily. "I would lay my hands on you, if you'd have me. Let me please you."

The way he says it makes it sound so good, so tempting, that you let him go, let him lay you out on top of the desk. This way you're close enough to touch your Dream, so you reach for him, pulling him down for a kiss. Being crowded like this feels better than you had ever imagined as they take turns kissing you, touching you, until you're almost dizzy with lust again.

"Is this..." you pant against his lips as one of his other selves sucks one of your nipples into his mouth greedily, "is it alright, like this?"

Every bit of worry or shame evaporates as he slides a finger into you, though, making you abandon the kiss in favour of watching his hand between your legs. The sleeves might look ridiculous but they feel lovely dragging over the insides of your thighs as he pumps in and out of you slowly. He's always known how to touch you well, and this time is no exception as he adds a second finger, hooking them just so. The way his fingers drag over that one spot inside makes you tremble.

"Can I have some more?" You can feel him grin against your skin at the question, but he doesn't bother to tease you, just adds a third finger, his thumb settling over your clit, just barely touching. The way he ghosts the pad of his finger over it makes you squirm, wanting more still, for him to rub you properly.

"Patience, my sweet," he admonishes you, "I will take care of you, if you let me."

With that, he plunges a fourth finger in and gently presses down on your lower belly, trapping that sensitive spot between the palm of his hand and his fingers. The way he massages you is slow and methodical, as if he has all the time in the world to pull you apart. Every brush of his thumb is light as a feather, and while it makes you want more, you don't strictly need it. You can feel your peak approaching, slow but inevitable.

"If you keep that up I'm going to, "you tangle your hand in his hair, gasping, "make a mess of your desk."

"I know." The way he looks at you then is so smug and just all-around indecent that you can't decide if you want to punch him or kiss him. You barely have time to settle on the latter before pleasure overcomes you, washing over you in powerful waves. You can't remember the last time you were this wet and he's not stopping, whispering encouragements against your lips as you pulse and gush over his fingers with a pitiful little whimper.

The last spasm has barely finished when he leaves you empty, splayed out alone on the desk. Or, not quite alone. This time, the choice isn't yours, another Dream stepping in between your legs before you've barely had time to catch your breath. Compared to the softer fabrics you're accustomed to, the fine leather makes him look sleeker, meaner, though no less inviting.

"This is...different." Running your hands over it, you revel in the buttery feel of it under your fingers. "I think I like it though."

"Of course you do," He doesn't bother to hide the pleased look on his face.

"Hold on, is that..." you pull him down closer, craning your neck to see. "You never told me you had an earring."

"Should I have? It hardly seems important." There is a small wrinkle between his eyebrows, confusion over why something so small could be significant at all. It's pretty adorable.

"Maybe," you hum, wrapping your legs around his waist, petting his hair as you catch the small ring in your teeth, giving it a little pull. He seems to enjoy that, letting out a short exhale of breath as he grinds his hips into you. He's half hard already, uncaring of the mess.

"You can have me like this, if that is what you want." Preoccupied with the earring still you don't respond right away, so he adds, "Unless you would rather play with my jewellery?"

"Sorry." You let it go, albeit reluctantly.

"No need to apologize. If you enjoy it so much, perhaps I should wear it again." His eyes sparkle with mirth as he kisses you, clearly amused by your dumbstruck expression as you imagine the present iteration of him with an earring. "Now, turn over for me."

When he asks like that you can hardly refuse, nor do you want to. At this rate, you're not sure how much more you can take. Being in the Dreaming can only stretch your limits so far, and you're starting to approach yours.

"Wider." The leather of his boots is smooth against your calves as he pushes your legs apart. Once you're arranged to his liking, he leans over you and kisses the back of your neck, his tip prodding your entrance as he rocks his hips gently, not entering just yet. Your Dream is watching you intently, reaching out to twine your fingers together.

"Are you enjoying your gift so far?" The small smile on his lips makes it very obvious that he doesn't expect you to respond in any coherent way. When his other self slides into you, burying himself as far as he will go, they both moan, his grip on your hand tightening.

The pace he sets is slow and deliberate but not very gentle, his grip firm on your hips as he nearly lifts you onto the tips of your toes. Still sensitive from your last orgasm, the way he drives into you with inhuman precision is its own form of torture, pushing you towards the next one with relentless focus.

"Morpheus please, I can't," the words come out in a garbled kind of plea, "it's too much, I can't."

"You can." He sounds so certain, not leaving you any room to argue as he presses himself against you and pushes you down to prevent you from wriggling. "You will."

And he's right, you can feel it. It's a slow burn, like petals unfurling, and it feels like you could swallow him whole, the intensity of it turning your legs to jelly. This isn't the kind of release you can chase, all you can do is wait for it, for him to bring you there.

"You feel so good like this, so plump with pleasure," he sighs, rolling his hips into yours. "Let me feel you." Just hearing his voice brings you closer, he's watching and you're so very nearly there, and then your Dream is kissing you, drinking your every sound like a man parched and he's still talking.

"Come with me." He bottoms out then, and it's either the 'with' or the way he swells so deep inside of you that does it, but you do. It's like melting, like falling, but he catches you, holds you there as you go limp underneath him, hardly able to breathe. He hurtles over that edge right along with you, groaning as he does, but the noise your Dream makes right into your mouth is downright filthy.

Being left empty is no less jarring this time around, but you're more interested in him, the damp spot at the crotch of his jeans. He notices you looking, and lets out an amused little huff of not-quite-laughter, leans his forehead to yours.

"Don't worry, my love," he nips at your bottom lip, eyes dark. "I fully intend to have my turn with you still." He leans back in his chair and drops a kiss on the back of your hand. "Enjoy the rest of your gift. I will be waiting for you."

Flopped bonelessly on top of the desk, you do your best to catch your breath and clear your head. If you had known exactly what you were getting into, you might have been a bit more restrained and not asked for all of him like this, but you're not going to back out now. He's not really letting you either, his mind set on giving you exactly what you asked, for better or worse. When the next pair of hands touch you softly, gliding up the back of your legs, you lean into it, refusing to let him get the better of you as you turn to face him.

"Do you need rest?"

Probably.

"No."

"Very well." If he doubts you, he doesn't show it, leaning over to take the tip of your breast into his mouth.

Something about this version of him is a bit too immaculate, too polished. Everything from the too-rich fabrics of his clothes to the touch of makeup around his eyes makes him look decadent, like a dessert that is just a bit too heavy to stomach more than a mouthful of. There is an honest-to-god ribbon in his hair, tied in the most infuriatingly perfect bow you've ever seen. The effect is maddening; he looks like something you'd like to ruin. And judging by the way he looks at you as he kisses his way down your body, he absolutely knows it.

It's a simple thing for him to haul you to the edge of the desk, leaving you open to him. All his finery makes him look entirely out of place kneeling between your legs, but you can't quite find it in you to care as he kisses you there softly, giving your clit a little flick with the tip of his tongue. Everything is just this side of too sensitive and you flinch away on pure reflex, but he doesn't let you close your legs, keeping them apart with his hands.

His breath is hot on you as he gently laps at you, soothes you with his tongue, almost impossibly soft. Rather than devour you he cleans you, his eyes fixed on yours as he takes every part of you inside his mouth, working his way from the outside in. And in.

The way his cheeks hollow as he sucks at you is nothing short of obscene. The sight alone is enough to make you want him all over again but then he opens his mouth, shows you his tongue coated in his own release and you throb. Watching his adam's apple bob as he swallows makes your mouth go dry and you're not sure what kind of noise you just made but it must have been something to make him smirk at you like that. When he puts his mouth on you again, you bury your fingers in his too-perfect hair.

He is nothing if not determined, wholly uncaring of the fact that you're nearing the limit of how much more you can take. Slipping first one finger into you, then another he sighs, kissing the inside of your thigh.

"I love seeing you like this, all undone for me."

When he puts your aching clit between his lips and gives it a few slow gentle sucks, you can't help clawing at him until the ribbon in his hair comes loose.

"Morpheus, please!" Everything is hazy around the edges and you're not sure if you're begging for more or less or something else entirely, "please, oh please, pl..."

And then there is a mouth on yours, muffling your cries, hands cradling your face. There is almost too much of him like this, so much to touch and his other self is still devouring you like you're the sweetest thing he's ever tasted until you're a quivering mess under his tongue, tense like a bowstring. It's a slow kind of falling apart and you can barely make a sound as he wrenches your release out of you, dragging it out hot and slow, bordering on painful. His hands are the only thing holding you up as he kisses you as if he could swallow you, take you into himself and keep you there.

When the waves of pleasure recede it's almost a relief, finally letting you breathe. Opening your eyes, you think for a split second that you might cry, the way he's looking at you is so soft. No tears fall, but your love for him rises and swells in your chest until it feels like you might burst at the seams, choking you as you wind your arms around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair.

"Take me to bed? Please?"

And he does, they both do. You want to undress him, to peel him out of all those layers, you do, but you're shaking and your fingers can't quite obey, fumbling the buttons until he simply lets all of it fade away and you're pressed between both of them with nothing separating you.

It's a remarkably tender thing, the way they tangle their limbs with yours, kissing every inch of your skin like you're something precious. You vaguely remember how he said that he wanted you "lucid enough to enjoy" but that isn't what he ends up getting, not quite. He doesn't seem to mind though, even as he puts you on your hands and knees.

Despite the exhaustion starting to set in, having his cock right in front of your face like this is a temptation, one you don't bother fighting. Even your mouth feels clumsy as you take him in, wanting him in any way you can get. When his other self starts easing into you from behind you can't keep a whine back, overstimulated nearly to the point of tears.

"Shhh, just let me..." He whispers, pressing kisses to your back, long hair sliding over your skin like strands of silk, "just let me..."

And you do, letting him sink in as far as he will go. He rocks against you so gently, like he's worried you might break. At this rate, it feels like you might. Trapped between the both of them like this, the only thing you can really do is let them, let him, use you. When he puts his hand between your legs and starts stroking you, it feels like he might actually drive you mad.

"Just one more, my sweet," he whispers, his breath tickling the back of your neck, "one more for me, then you can rest."

Every slide of his finger over your swollen clit feels like ice, like fire, and you can't even move away. You feel like a worn-out spring being wound up too tightly, but he is utterly determined to coax one more climax out of you, not stopping even when you start whimpering. When your walls start fluttering around him, weakly at first, you swirl your tongue shakily over the tip of his cock, the shared sensations making him moan.

"You're doing so well," he pants, stroking your hair with a not-quite-steady hand.

You can tell that he's just as close as you are, swelling inside you and on your tongue, and you want him to come with you, properly this time. The noise he makes as you take him into your throat is a shattered thing, he's barely holding on and his eyes are black and that finally makes the tension inside you snap with a strength that wracks your entire body. When you swallow it's more on reflex than anything else but it's enough to push him over the edge right along with you, pulsing down your throat and in your cunt with a sound that isn't exactly human, either.

As you come down from your high everything is a bit of a blur, every part of your body is aching as the tension finally drains out of you. The only thing you have energy for is collapsing on the bed in an ungraceful heap. He wastes no time pulling you to him though, chest heaving for breath you know he doesn't strictly need. When you start shivering, he conjures a blanket to cover you, holds you close. He's never been a selfish lover but the tenderness of the gesture still makes your heart constrict in something like pain, knowing he might not be there for your next birthday. You've always known what he is so you try not to mourn prematurely, covering your worry with humour instead.

"Dream?"

"Yes, my love?" He kisses the top of your head softly, content for now.

"Do Endless have birthdays?"

#dream of the endless x reader #morpheus x reader #sandman x reader #sandman x you #sandman smut #dream of the endless smut #the sandman fanfiction #my shitty shitty writing (affectionate)

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welldonebeca · 9 months

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The Triplets (3)

Summary: Lizzie moves in with her favourite honorary Uncle, Beau, to find work in a big city, and starts sharing a house with him and his other two twins brothers. The triplets - Dean, Ben and Beau - couldn't be more different and more similar at the same time. One thing they all share? Well, they all want to fuck her, of course. Pairing: Ben "Soldier Boy" x Lizzie (OC), Beau Arlen x Lizzie (OC), Dean Winchester x Lizzie (OC). Warnings: Emotional hurt/comfort. Alcohol. Fluff. Quiet sex. Size difference. Size kink. Virginity loss. Virginity kink. Oral sex.

Lizzie didn’t leave her room after that, even skipping dinner.

She had almost fucked Ben right there!

What was wrong with her? Was she really gonna throw away her virginity like that? To the first guy to kiss her in the middle of the corridor, where anyone could find them?!

But the way he kissed her…

His lips were so soft and his beard rubbed against her face…

She had made herself cum for an hour straight before falling asleep, and now it was past midnight and she couldn’t sleep.

Lizzie was hungry, embarrassed and horny, a horrible combination.

So she listened and listened for any movement outside, and put on a baggy shirt over her panties, walking out in bare feet. Everyone was asleep, thank goodness.

Maybe there were leftovers in the fridge.

Instead of food, though, she found a six-pack, cool and taunting her.

Food be damned, she needed a good buzz.

She pulled it out and went to the living room, opening a can a nursing it while looking for the remote, so she could flip through channels, watching a random game show mindlessly.

“What are you doing?” she heard all of a sudden.

Lizzie jumped, nearly falling down the couch.

Oh my God, she was sitting all spread, her clothes were a mess, had he seen anything?

She quickly grabbed a pillow and covered her thighs.

“Sorry,” Dean approached her quickly. “Are you alright?”

She blushed, embarrassed, and nodded quickly.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “I’m just… watching TV.”

Dean nodded stiffly.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m fine,” she insisted. “I just got … thirsty”

Dean’s eyes darted to the beer in her hand, but nodded, a little more relaxed.

“Right,” he agreed. “Thirsty.”

She flushed, looking away, and Dean sat down by her side.

“Look,” he spoke softly. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude to you.”

Lizzie blinked, confused.

“What?”

“The way I talked,” he explained. “I’m not good with people sometimes. I can be an asshole.”

Oh, right. She remembered that now.

She had forgotten it after Ben put his tongue inside her mouth.

“It’s alright,” she insisted.

Dean just shook his head.

“I know I upset you,” he insisted. “You didn’t do anything wrong, you were just looking at the car.”

Lizzie moved, a little unsure.

“It’s a nice car,” she mumbled. “I understand you being protective of it.”

Dean smiled, relaxing.

“It was my dad’s,” he told her. “Don’t tell the guys, but I’m pretty sure we were made in that car.”

She snorted a laugh, surprised.

“Really?”

He shrugged.

“We might,” he elbowed her playfully. “I like to think I was the first and the other two are a corrupted version of me, you know? From the whole copying process.”

That made her laugh out loud, which Dean seemed to like.

“It’s why I have a different name,” he told her. “They thought they were having twins, so dad suggested Benjamin and Beaumont. I came out first, I was Benjamin, then Ben came and he was Beaumont.”

She nodded and he then chuckled.

“But then,” he raised a finger. “Beau came out. And they realised we were triplets. So, they did a reshuffle of the names. Ben became Benjamin, Beau became Beaumont, and I became Dean, because I’m the oldest, and mum wanted to pay homage to her mother.”

That was… messy.

“Let’s just say I got teased a lot for being named after grandma Deanna,” he sighed. “But I was her favourite, anyway.”

She giggled, but frowned a little, resting her head on the couch, a little buzzed.

“I wish I knew more about my mum,” she confessed, lips a little loose.

Dean’s face softened.

“What happened?” he asked.

Lizzie sipped her beer for a moment and sighed.

“She got sick when I was a kid,” she told him. “And… well, you know.”

Died.

He frowned.

“I didn’t know you had lost your mother.”

She smiled sadly, looking at him.

“Dad tried to work on his own with me, but then he remarried,” she told him. “It’s his wife that you have met.”

Dean hummed along.

“And I guess you don’t like her, then,” he supposed.

Lizzie clicked her tongue.

“Nope,” she agreed with him. “Not at all.”

She started to drink more at the thought, and dean follows along with her, picking one of the cans and drinking along.

“I get it,” he told her. “My mom died first, and I felt like I had to fill her shoes. I practically did.”

Lizzie rested her head on his shoulder slowly, and Dean reached for her free hand, giving it a squeeze, a soft comfort without the need of explaining themselves.

“Thanks for talking with me...” she sighed, a little slow on her lips. “I think you’re the first person who’s ever gotten it.”

He looked at her, lips parted, and she looked at him.

Lizzie really didn’t know who broke their stare, but in a minute his lips were in hers and he was kissing her hungrily.

It was different from the way Ben had kissed her.

Dean kissed her softly, giving her space, but desperately, as if he needed her to survive.

“Lizzie,” he sighed, a hand of his moving around her waist to pull her closer.

He moved her slowly, until she was laying on the couch with him on top of her, and Lizzie push her hand under his clothes, pushing his shirt up.

Dean pulled away for a moment,

“We should-” he looked at her. “Lizzie, we’re drunk.”

“No we’re not,” she shook her head, kissing his lips again.

Dean kissed her lips back eagerly.

“Fuck me,” she whimpered. “Please, Dean.”

Dean closed his eyes, resting his head on her shoulder, and pushed her shirt up, pulling it over her head.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he kissed her neck. “Just be quiet for me, alright? Can’t let them hear you.”

She nodded, and he looked down at her body with a smirk on his lips.

“Such cute little tits,” he cooed, kissing the middle of her chest.

Lizzie squirmed, flushing and feeling her cunt warm and wet.

“Dean,” she whined.

“So cute,” he praised her, and licked her nipple. “You’re such a cute little thing, aren’t you, Lizzie?”

She whimpered, trying to pull his shirt up.

“I wanna see you too,” she pleaded.

Dean sat back, pulling his shirt and tossing it down to the floor near them.

He looked a little softer than Ben, less chiselled, but strong nonetheless.

He kissed the way down her body and then up again, kissing her lips, and she felt him moving over her.

“Hey,” he pulled back suddenly. “When was the last time you got tested?”

She blinked, a little confused.

Tested.

“How long has it been since you last had sex?” he asked.

Lizzie opened and closed her mouth.

She could lie.

Lying was easy.

“It’s… been a while,” she squeaked. “I’m clean.”

Dean squinted a little.

“How long?” he asked.

She bit her lower lip, and he raised his chin slowly before kissing down her neck.

“Are you a little virgin, little Miss?” he bit her earlobe.

Lizzie squirmed, blushing, and whined when he put a hand between her legs.

“Is this why your cunt is so wet just by my kisses?” he pulled her panties aside, pushing his finger between her folds.

“Yes,” she squeaked, unable to keep the lie to herself.

His hand squeezed her more and Dean pulled away, looking at her with a darkened gaze.

She was shocked when he tore her panties.

“They are my favourite!” Lizzie protested.

“I’ll buy you more,” Dean pinched her clit, making her moan and jump. “I’ll buy you a ton more.”

He kissed her to shut her up before kissing down her neck.

Then her chest.

Down to her stomach.

And then her pussy.

“Dean?” she asked, unsure.

He looked up at her and simply stuck out his tongue, licking her folds from her entrance to her clit.

“Let me prep you, little thing,” he hummed. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it good.”

She nodded, holding back a whimper, and Dean smirked.

“Be quiet, we don’t want the whole house to hear you.”

He licked her hungrily, and Lizzie had to grab a pillow to muffle her moans.

“So fucking sweet,” he grunted.

He licked and sucked her clit, pushing two fingers into her cunt and spreading them.

His fingers feel so thick, bigger than any toy she’s used, but she was always afraid about putting stuff inside her. It always hurt.

But Dean didn’t.

Her eyes nearly crossed when she arched her hips to his lips, flooded with pleasure.

“Dean,” she pressed the pillow to her mouth. “Please.”

He squeezed her hips tighter, devouring her.

Fuck, she was going to cum.

She was so loose and tipsy she couldn’t stop herself even if she wanted to.

Lizzie came with little whimpers and crying, squirming under him.

Dean crawled up her body while she was still shaking a little, and kissed her lips hungrily again, making her taste her own wetness as his cock nudged between her folds.

“Look at me,” he whispered into her lips.

She obeyed, looking at his face, and Dean was gazing deeply at her face.

"Are you sure?" he asked softly. "We can stop if you want to."

His eyes were so sweet. Dean was so sweet.

“I want you, Dean,” she told him. “I am sure.”

Dean smiled and kissed her lips again, moving a hand down to between her legs, and she felt his cock nudging into her entrance.

He pushed into her slowly moving his nose over hers as he did, biting her lower lip and holding her tight.

It was new.

He was big.

Very big.

Large, stretching her, like nothing had ever done before.

Dean moved closer to her and pushed his face into the crook of her neck as she gripped his shoulder, trying not to make any sound, but Lizzie squealed anyway when he moved his hand to play with her clit, rubbing it tightly.

“Good girl,” he grunted. “Taking my cock so sweetly, all wet for me.”

“Dean,” she whined.

He moved his hips shallowly, rubbing and rubbing, not even moving much, nearly just humping her.

“Wanna feel you cum,” he grunted into her neck. “Sweet little virgin, all needy for me.”

She moaned more, trembling under him, sensitive.

“Gonna eat your pussy every day,” he grunted into her neck. “Devour your little cunt.”

Lizzie closed her eyes, covering her mouth with a hand, near another orgasm. Ben had kissed her stupid earlier, and Dean was finishing the job by fucking her dumb.

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” he grunted into her ear. “Cum for me and I’ll cum in you, I’ll fill you up and make that virgin cunt all messy.”

“Yes,” she panted. “Yes, Dean.”

His lazy thrusts became faster and harder, and Lizzie came again just as he started slamming into her cunt so hard she knew she would be a little bruised later.

Suddenly, he stopped and moaned into her neck, and he came, throbbing in her and filling her in a strange way.

Lizzie was already sleepy when he stopped, and Dean nearly slumped against her before turning her around and laying her on his body.

“Good girl,” Dean squeezed her, cock still in her and hands holding her tight, like he was afraid to let her go. “Just mine.”

. . .

"The Triplets" was posted on Patreon on January 2023. To read it now before anyone else and read the sequels "The Livestream (Ben x Lizzie)", "patience is a virtue (Dean x Lizzie)" and "the pictures (Beau x Lizzie)", subscribe to my page! It's just $2 a month and it helps a lot.

. . .

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ughgoaway · 7 months

Note

How do you think the parent-teacher conference would go?

okay yes I have been thinking about this since i originally thought of this au

(Also, quick psa- these are never proofread, so if they are incoherent/ littered with spelling errors...shhh)

I can see matty getting the email through about parents evening and just PRAYING it's with you. Annie has two teachers (bc fuck having a class of 30 kids on your own are you mad) and he thought it might be with the other one. who is fine, she's an older woman and is very lovely... she's just not you

little does he know behind the scenes you had to kind of fudge things to get him for parents evening, your deputy head teacher comes up one day and tells you the plan for parents evening this year, he explains youre only getting half the class. so rather than doing it with your co-teacher, you'd do half and she'd do half. of course, you immediately ask, "Oh... okay, can I see my list?"

you read it and feel your heart drop, Annie wasn't on there. and you swear it's not just because you want an excuse to sit across from matty for 20 mins... you also genuinely love Annie and would love to talk about her and her progress.

you catch the other teacher in the staff room and have a quick chat, "Mrs Richards, do you think we could go over the parent's evening lists? I was just wondering if there's any students that you don't have that you might like?"

"Oh yes dear, let's have a look," she says, grabbing your list, "Ah yes, if it's okay with you, I'd quite like to see Jason's mum and dad. After the paper aeroplane incident last week, I think I need to have a proper discussion with them"

you scream internally, thankful you won't have to have that conversation, and that you might be able to snag Annie, "Oh yes, that's fine with me! why don't we swap for say... Annie Healy?" You say trying to play it off and act like you didn't already have a child in mind when you started this conversation.

luckily, Mrs Richards is completely oblivious to your crush (that you insist is not a crush) and says, "Of course dear, consider it done. I'll send all the emails tonight"

////

cut to actual parents evening and you are wearing your favourite dress. well, favourite appropriate dress. it's nothing much, floral and flowy, but it just works, and you love it.

and you totally did not try on every combination of dresses and shoes that you own to find the perfect one. at 3am.

you definitely did not do that because that would be insane...

anyway, you just finished your appointment with Lucy's parents, and it all went well. You did have to have a discussion about her habit of punching her male peers in... certain places, but it went down surprisingly well.

you completely forget who your next appointment is until you stick your head out of the door and see matty standing with a cig in the corner. for a good few seconds, you just stand and stare, enamoured by the glow of the cigarette lighting up his features. and the way his cheeks hollow as he takes a drag.

matty finally spots you and waves, dropping his cig and crushing it before rushing to meet you. you take a deep breath and straighten up, trying not to die from nerves before this meeting.

"matty! hi! come in, come in, " you say, waving him in. Neither of you notice the receptionist raising her eyebrows at you, calling him matty. she makes a mental note to talk (tease) to you about it later.

he comes in and sits down, and for the first 10 mins, it's a completely normal meeting. You discuss how Annie is doing, how she's interacting with her peers, and what progress she is making.

obviously, googly eyes are being thrown both ways, but you are both beautifully oblivious.

but soon somehow, you both get completely off topic.

"you've never seen true romance! oh love, that wounds me, " matty says, holding a hand to his chest in faux hurt.

you giggle lightly at his reaction, brushing over the pet name so you don't have a mental breakdown over it in front of him.

"I know! I know! it's been on my list for years but I've never got around to it, is it one of your favourites?"

matty then of course goes on a 5 minute rant about how amazing the film is and what it means to him, "I mean I wrote one of our most popular songs about it, as soon as I wrote it at 18 I knew it would be such an important song. to me. to the band. even to our non-existent fans at the time. well, our one fan, my dad"

you smile at him just in awe of his passion for that band, "Oh yeah, robbers, right?" You say shyly, trying not to show the intensity of the stalking you did.

matty just stops and looks at you, his face a mix of cockiness and pure adoration, "Yeah yeah, you been listening to my band?" he teases and pokes at your arm. Soon, his hand slips down and lightly rests on yours as you speak.

you just nod dumbly because how can you focus on what he just said whilst he's practically holding your hand?? thankfully, you catch yourself reasonably quickly and realise just nodding is not the appropriate reaction to what he just said.

you don't know what comes over you, maybe it's his hand on yours, the soft look in his eyes or the gentle smile on his face but you decide to just be honest.

"Honestly?" You say, and matty nods softly, eyes flittering around your face (perhaps even down to your lips) , "I didn't know who you were before, but now? I am a little bit obsessed. I listened to you on the drive-in this morning, " you say whilst avoiding eye contact.

"No way," he says, laughing to himself. He squeezes your hand to encourage your eyes up, and you give in and make eye contact, "what's your favourite song? you've got to tell me that"

"well i-" Of course, before you can finish, there's a harsh knock on the door. you both jump and separate hastily as you spring up and get it.

before you can say anything, the person behind the door starts talking, "Hi, we're Jackson's parents, are you miss y/n? I thought our appointment was at 6. it's 10 past, and I'm kind of in a rush"

you start stuttering out apologies, and matty is already behind you preparing to leave. He quickly grabs your hand and squeezes it as he brushes past.

you squeeze his to grab his attention, "paris. my favourite song is paris", you let go and usher the other parents in. they squeeze past a frozen matty, just standing and gazing at you.

soon you are closing the door to mattys shocked face, giving him one last grin before clicking it shut.

(paris is not my fav song, but it's matty's, so we gotta have a bit of romance)

blurb masterlist here!!

#once again ace cant shut tf up... alert the press #parents evening with matty would be so fun #no actually important stuff would be discussed #staying on topic? literally never heard of it sorry xoxo #dilf matty <33 #anon!#teacher au!

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kjmcotton · 7 months

Text

Unexpected gift | Bbh

Byun Baekhyun x pregnant!reader

Established relationship!AU

Plot:it was a day like any other until you found out you needed to have a really important chat with your boyfriend Baekhyun

Warnings:references to unprotected sex

This story is a request

Masterlist

Author’s notes:I’m so sorry this took too long to be published but I had a lot of troubles in writing this request. I hope you’ll like it and thank you to the anon for being so patient and respectful while waiting for their story♡

Tumblr works with reposts:if you enjoyed my story please repost and leave a feedback! Help me growing!♡

“I’ll support you whatever your choice is”

“Good morning babe” Baekhyun whispered to your hear,kissing your cheek. You slowly opened your eyes,bringing into focus the imagine of your beautiful boyfriend. Messy hair,puffy cheeks and his early morning raspy voice that you loved so much. “Good morning” you replied,snuggling up next to him. You wrapped your arm around his shoulder and buried your face in his naked chest. Baekhyun giggled,caressing your head “It’s time to go to work” he then talked sweetly,kissing your forehead,his favourite spot.

“Is it already? I don’t wanna leave the bed” you huffed

“Me neither,but we have to” he smiled and walked to the bathroom. You looked at his slender figure:his fingers were running through his hair,making it even messier,a smile appeared on your lips while thinking about how lucky you were to have had him by your side for the past four years.

You fixed the pillow under your head,laying down a few more minutes while waiting for Baekhyun to be ready. When you said that you didn’t want to leave the bed it was actually true:besides loving sharing cuddles with your boyfriend,you didn’t feel well that morning. You felt tired,pretty weak,and your tummy ached.

You sighed,watching Baekhyun open the wardrobe to choose what to wear.

“White or blue?” he showed you two of his favourite shirts

“Blue shirt and white trousers” you suggested,the boy nodded “You’re right” he replied,getting dressed.

He was already tying his shoe laces when he raised his head to look at you with his warm dark eyes

“You’ll be late if you don’t get up babe,is everything alright?” he asked

“It is-you nodded-I just feel tired. Probably my period is arriving” you explained yourself,sitting in between the sheets.

Baekhyun nodded,stretching his torso out to you in order to place one more kiss on your forehead

“Then it’s a good thing that yesterday I bought your favourite cookies” he smiled

“You did?!”

“Yes,they’re in the cupboard. Enjoy your breakfast and for anything call me. I’ll come as soon as I can” said so,Baekhyun grabbed his jacket and left.

Slowly,you got out of bed,walking towards the bathroom to take a shower. Your body was heavy,even more sensitive than usual,and the damn cramps coming and going weren’t helping you finding a little bit of strength to go to work.

You sighed:the warm water running on your skin seemed to bother you as every drop made your chest ache or tingle.

“Damn it” you mumbled,harshly shutting the jet down before getting ready. In order to be as much comfortable as you could be you wore a shirt and a pair of jeans;then,you grabbed your phone to check when you’re period would’ve come:two days. The mystery had been solved:being so moody was a classic for you when your period was so close.

You ate the biscuits Baekhyun had bought you and drank a coffee,then you drove to your office.

You worked as a graphic designer for a music company,and you usually loved your job. The idea of getting up and thinking about hundreds of ways to create the perfect cover for the album of a boyband or a girlband challenged you everyday,making you excited to find the perfect combination of colours and textures;however,that morning,in your body there wasn’t a single crumb of propensity for working well,you showed up and finished that single cover just because you had to.

Your day went by slowly,as slowly as a wounded turtle,and as soon as you came back home you shifted into your pyjama and went to bed.

Baekhyun arrived at home one hour later than usual:he turned on the lights and looked for you.

“Babe?” he called you

“I’m here” you mumbled from the bed,holding yourself up with the elbows

“Are you okay?” he demanded,sitting next to you

“I’m not feeling good. I think this period it’s gonna be harsh” you explained

Baekhyun caressed your cheek and gently kissed your lips:

“Then I gotta buy a lot of snacks”

“Chocolate. I want a lot of chocolate”

“It’s on its way” the boy smiled and left,coming back a few minutes later with your dinner and what you had asked for.

“I’ve bought chinese food” he said,placing a plastic bag in your hands

“That’s amazing! I love Chinese food!”

“I know-the guy laughed-that’s why I bought it”

You opened the packages,dining together on the bed:you didn’t know why the food didn’t seem as tasty as usual even tho you were hungry;however you ate without complaining and went straight to the dessert. You had plenty of choices:Baekhyun had bought you chocolate pralines,croissants,bars and different snacks,including chocolate milk:you felt like a happy kid.

Hopefully, in the next days you would’ve gotten better;but nothing changed and your period didn’t show up.

It was Wednesday,you were sitting at the cafeteria of your company,waiting for a Cappuccino to be served at your table,when your colleague,Momo,sat next to you.

“You’re so pale! Are you okay?” she asked,worried,sliding a piece of cheesecake towards you

“I am,thank you-you mumbled,looking at the cake in front of you-you can eat this,don’t worry about me”

“Sweets always help feeling better. Come on,I’m not blind,what’s up with you? Is there anything I can do?”

“Honestly…I’m having troubles with my period. I’m feel pretty bad”

“Poor thing! What is it? Is it too strong?”

“No,actually…it didn’t come at all-you sighed,eating a small piece of cheesecake to immediately spit it into a tissue a few seconds later-this tastes so bad…” a disgusted expression appeared on your face

“Does it? Usually it’s so good-Momo’s fork sinked in the cake and brought a piece to her mouth-it’s delicious sweetheart! Why don’t you like it?”

“It tastes…strange. It makes me nauseous” you sighed

The girl sitting next to you blinked confused and covered her mouth with her hands

“Are you sure you’re not pregnant?”

At those words your fork slipped away from your hand,falling on the ground,while you pushed your back against the chair. An expression of fear appeared on your face.

“Are you crazy Momo?!-you asked too loudly,making a few people turn around-I can’t be! We do it safely,I don’t want kids,nor Baek does”

“I’m not saying that you surely are,or that you don’t use protections but…hum…how to tell you…maybe you had proble-”

“I know what you mean-you interrupted the girl-and no,I don’t think that’s possible”

“Have you checked?”

“I didn’t but-“

The silence fell at your table,then Momo giggled:

“I think a test is recommended in this case” she suggested.

You sighed and ruffled your own hair,hiding your face with your hands

“That can’t be possible come on…”

“Just do it! You can’t pretend that everything’s fine,I’ll come with you” she grabbed her bag and stood up,pointing at the door with her head as she was telling you to follow her.

You did so and walked to the nearest pharmacy,doing the test in the bathroom of your apartment. You waited a few seconds,thinking that it would’ve been negative…but it wasn’t.

Surprise! Someone was on their way to you!

Panicked,you fixed your skirt and ran out from the bathroom,slamming the door

“This can’t be possible! It can’t be! It’s wrong,I’m sure!” you yelled,walking back and forth

“It can’t be wrong,and we both know. Just calm down!” Momo followed you,grabbing your arm to make you stand still

“We can’t have a kid! Baekhyun doesn’t even want it!”

“Have you talked to him about that?”

“Well…not really…”

“Then how can you say that he doesn’t want it?”

“I’m sure…” you lowered your head

“And what about you? Do you want it? Do you want a kid?” Momo bent down a little,looking straight into your eyes.

You hesitated a second before talking:you didn’t know what to say. Before finding out that you were a soon to be mother you would’ve bet anything on an answer such as no…but now? Now you weren’t so sure anymore.

“I-…” you were about to say something when,suddenly,the door was opened,revealing Baekhyun.

“Hey babe,what’s this chaos? I could hear you mumbling from the stairs” he laughed and greeted Momo. In that moment you wanted to disappear.

Why was he already home? The only day in which he should’ve stayed at work he had decided to come back earlier than usual? You surely were born unlucky,you thought.

Momo’s eyes kept shifting from your shocked face to Baekhyun’s pretty smile,until,with a fake cough,she speed walked towards the door

“I think Y/n’s got something important to tell you. Good luck” she said,running off.

“Damn her” you mentally cursed her,then looked at your boyfriend who was already waiting for you to explain yourself.

“So?” he asked confused,putting his jacket on the coat hanger.

You licked your lips,sweating,thinking about how to get out from that embarrassing and nerve wracking situation. You were trying to imagine Baekhyun’s reaction at your news;what could it have been? Would he have been happy? Would he have left you? Or would he have asked you to get rid of the baby? You were sure he didn’t want a kid,but,at the same time,you were also sure that he wasn’t a bad person and that whatever he would’ve said,he would’ve said it for your own well being and the kid’s.

“Babe?-he stepped closer,caressing your shoulders with his hands-I’m getting worried,what is it?”

You bit your lip and sighed,lowering your head:

“What would you say if I…hum…told you that…a new member of the family is on their way?” your expression was the one of a child who had just done a mistake,which made Baekhyun laugh

“Have you adopted a puppy?” he asked,but you shook your head

“It’s something else…”

“Then a cat? Or a bird? I wouldn’t be surprised if you brought a parrot home” he joked

“No,no it’s nothing like that…”

“Then what is-“ Baekhyun eyes widened as he held onto the armchair,sitting a few seconds later

“Babe,are you okay?” you ran to him,benting down at his height as you thought he wasn’t feeling good.

“That can’t be possible!” he yelled. You startled and fell back

“But it is…” you murmured

Baekhyun sighed and stood up,offering you his hand so you could get up from the floor

“But we always do it safely”

“I know! But look,here it is!” you threw the test at Baekhyun who caught it by luck.

His eyes widened even more as he looked at the results on the stick

“I’m gonna faint” he sat on the couch

“Babe!” you shook him

“I can’t believe it. How’s this possible?”

“Accident in the process probably…” you scratched the back of your neck.

Your boyfriend stroke his forehead with his thumb and index,then he covered his face with his hand.

The silence fell in the room as you sat next to him,wrapping your arms around his shoulders while your head rested against his.

“Do you want it?” you asked

“Do you?” he asked back. You didn’t answer so he just kissed your temple.

“I’ll support you whatever your choice is. You know I dream about a family with you,it doesn’t matter if we’ll build it earlier than what we expect. As long as you’re healthy and happy with yourself I’ll be fine” the boy caressed your head and gave you another kiss. You hugged him,burying your head in the cloth of his shirt.

You stayed there for a while,in silence,embraced by Baekhyun’s warmth while trying to figure out what you really wanted.

A family surely was in your plan,same for Baekhyun,but both of you wanted to build one in a few years,once you had gotten married and found a bigger house;however the idea of an abortion just because everything was happening faster and earlier than what you expect seemed wrong to you.

“I want it” you suddenly said,raising your head from Baekhyun’s shoulder

“Are you sure about that?”

“I am. Just like you said,it doesn’t matter if it’s a few years earlier than what we have planned”

At those words the boy’s eyes started shining,then e hugged you tightly

“I can’t believe it” he mumbled,you swore he was about to cry

“Are you okay Baek?” you asked,he shook his head.

“Fuck I’m not” he grabbed a pillow,hiding behind it

“Are you crying??” you giggled

“No babe,what are you talking about?” he was already sobbing

“I thought you would’ve been mad…”

At those words Baekhyun automatically let the pillow fall

“Do I look mad to you?!”

he pointed at his teary eyes,so uou kissed his cheek

“I’m so glad I’ve found you” you hugged him.

Baekhyun held you in his arms,caressing your back as his chin rested on top of your head.

“No, I’m so glad I’ve found you,let’s start this together” he whispered,placing a kiss on your tummy

#byun baekhyun #byun baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x y/n #baekhyun x reader #baekhyun x you #baekhyun fanfic #baekhyun imagine #baekhyun #exo baekhyun #exo x reader #exo x y/n #exo x you #exo imagines #exo fanfic #exo request #exo fluff #exo kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop imagines

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intrepidacious · 2 years

Text

set me free

summary: Once upon a time, a soldier fell from a train. Thankfully, this time, he is found by gentle hands, and a beautiful voice keeps him safe from the cold.

pairing: bucky barnes x nymph!reader

word count: 6.4k

warnings: bucky dealing with the loss of his arm; a pinch of angst for flavour; reader is perceived as female by men in the forties, but what does that really tell us?

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: hi. i really like this one. it combines two of my favourite things, fairy tales and 40s!bucky 😌 title is from the song her voice from the little mermaid musical <3

masterlist | read on ao3

“There was a girl.”

It’s the first thing he says when he wakes up, head wrapped in bandages and his arm … shit, his arm.

He doesn’t react when they break it to him, as gently as you can when you’re tearing someone’s life apart. What could he say?

Steve’s face speaks loud enough for the both of them.

He waits until everyone else has left, until he can drop the act and look at Steve, desperately trying to make him understand that there’s a voice singing inside of him that’s not his, that he feels like he lost two very precious things in a single day. “There was a girl.”

And Steve’s eyes go soft when he tells him, “I know.”

***

There was a story up north, where the waters turned grey with city slick and got forced through ever tightening brick holes, of the nymph that wanted to appeal to reason and got trapped in a barrel where he shrank, shrank until there was nothing left of him but water and vengeance, and who no one ever heard from again after in his last moments, he drowned dozens of them.

Humans.

You hadn’t seen one up close in years, not since they built their stinking railroad and stopped taking the time to walk through the lands adjoining your river. Your life got quiet when theirs got fast. You weren’t used to them anymore, and the constant buzzing in the camp gave you a headache.

Coming here was the most treacherous thing you’d ever done.

You just wanted to make sure he was alright after you’d pulled him from your waters and dragged him to where his friends would find him, down the river where the remnants of the train still burned. You watched the flames from a distance, the fire throwing eerie shadows across the snow for hours, leaving nothing but vapour.

He’d finally stopped bleeding, then.

You weren’t supposed to leave your river for any long period of time, but you couldn’t resist. The thought of the strange soldier with the beautiful face and hair the colour of muddy riverbanks occupied your every waking thought. As if he were calling to you.

You’re treading dangerous waters, your mother would have warned you, and you probably should’ve listened. But you’d never felt this way before.

So you left your voice behind to keep your legs for longer and went in search of your soldier.

The camp was dirty, haphazard, stank of human. None of them even seemed to notice. You almost wished for one of their primitive noses that couldn’t pick a trout from a pickerel.

You found the blond man first. Eyes like the darkest part of a waterfall and built like the rocks that kept the earth standing. His cries had sounded garbled from where you’d hid just below the surface, but now his voice was calmer, like rain.

“Are you lost?” he asked. It sounded peculiar to you, then, English, but you got used to it quickly.

You shook your head, already starting to move past him when he stepped into your path.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” he said with a frown.

Yes, you were.

“How did you even find us?”

It wasn’t hard. Nature was screaming their presence. If anyone wasn’t supposed to be here, it was them. But that wasn’t why you’d come.

“What’s your name?”

You were starting to wonder if humans ever got anything done or if they were spending all of their precious few days just standing around asking meaningless questions. Thankfully, one of the others started shouting at that moment, not even bothering to come closer. You cringed at the loud noise.

“Steve! It’s happening again!”

The blond man cursed under his breath, giving you another appraising look. “Stay here,” he ordered sternly, and then he took off.

You followed more slowly, moving past soldiers and nurses who were all in such a hurry to disguise how utterly useless they felt. None of them stopped you, even though you attracted some curious glances; you looked like them, now, but you didn’t move like them.

The ice cracked underneath your bare feet, but your steps were silent. The winter air did not chill you, even though your breath came up in small clouds of mist, just like it did for the rest of them, and you watched it evaporate into the grey sky.

A strange thing, they must have thought you. Similar enough, but not the same, somehow.

You found him easily, even though you couldn’t see him; it was like he pulled you in with invisible strings. His tug had already started to feel deceivingly familiar.

Another man stood in front of the entrance, holding a flask in his hand. He saw you approach, and he tipped his hat back to stare at you openly. He murmured something in a tongue clearly different from the first, and then he tapped his head and torso in several places, an instinctive, protective gesture.

You smiled at him.

“C’était vous?” he asked, and you nodded.

He looked over his shoulder quickly, and then he held the flaps of the tent open to let you in.

The air inside was heavy with the damp smell of sweat and blood. The blond man’s back almost kept him from your view, but you knew immediately that the convulsing body on the cot belonged to your soldier. They were holding him down, trying to keep him still as he was struggling.

He hadn’t woken yet.

You took another step closer, and then you saw him again. There he lay, still partially covered by your cloak, and the sight of it made you shiver. The obscenity of it all.

It’d seemed such a natural thing to do at the time, to shield him from certain death, but now, surrounded by all these other … humans? You could barely keep yourself from gagging.

You’d sung it into existence to keep him warm, and then you’d kept singing until the bleeding finally slowed.

You were almost done when you heard the others approach, calling out for him, and your head whipped around in shock. So much had you been preoccupied with your work, you hadn’t even noticed them until it was almost too late.

Careful, your mother’s voice warned softly in your head. A moment of weakness is how they catch you, pearl.

Your song hadn’t been completed, and when you melted back into your waters in haste, keen to get out of their view, you could feel something tear inside you as it got left behind.

It made you feel raw.

You were safe beneath your waters, but you’d left part of yourself with the handsome stranger with the mud-coloured hair, and as they picked him up and carried him back through the woods, the missing thing settled like a pebble in his pocket.

And now …

He was lying right in front of you, so close you might have just reached out and touched his damp forehead, but you didn’t quite dare, not with everyone else starting to notice your presence.

“You can't be in here!”

Oh, but you had to be.

You didn’t know what they must have seen in your eyes, but something changed on the blond man’s face, and he did not move when you did. Gently, you leaned over the man on the cot, noticing every shiver and flinch and moan, brushing a strand of hair from his brow. You pulled at the corner of your cloak and wrapped it around his shoulder again, careful not to touch the spattered bandages.

Your soldier sighed, and then his sleep grew dreamless.

The man called Steve let you stay.

***

It took several days before he woke up, and they’d moved him a few dozen metres uphill, where the trees formed more of a clearing and the air was crisp. You’d kept to the fringes of the camp, making yourself useful enough so they wouldn’t dismiss you, carrying hot water and sweeping snow off tarpaulin.

The sun was setting when you felt the pull again, but different this time, more tentative. You dropped your empty bucket and gathered your skirt, hurrying to see what had happened, what had changed.

“There was a girl.”

You came to a halt right outside the entrance to the med tent, hands pressed to your chest because suddenly, you felt ill, as if your heart was trying to burst out of your chest. You couldn’t make sense of the sudden wetness on your cheeks. Had it started to rain without your notice?

“There was a girl.”

You’re not a girl, but it was fine. Humans are so limited, your mother always used to say.

And he remembered your song.

***

The first time your soldier met you, met you properly, they’d wrapped him in blankets and carried him outside to sit in the sun. Like a wildcat, you thought, but his eyes were glazed over, not really taking in his surroundings.

It was a pity, you thought as you watched him, because the woods were beautiful that time of year, when the sun made the white mountain tops glitter like diamonds.

You only dared to move closer once the others gave up on trying to get him to talk. One slow step closer, than another. Finally, you sat down in the grass next to him, your feet crossing easily underneath you because you’d done it several times before at that point. The air was damp with morning dew.

Several minutes passed before he seemed to acknowledge your presence.

“Come to stare?” he croaked quietly. His voice was rough in places it wasn’t supposed to be.

You tilted your head to look at him, shielding your eyes against the sun. He looked magnificent in the light, even though the frown never left his face. You didn’t understand his question.

You didn’t know, then, that humans couldn’t just regrow their limbs like fish could their fins.

But you had no way of asking his meaning, so you just kept sitting next to him in silence, watching life move on in the camp downhill. He didn’t tell you to leave.

His name, you learned, was Bucky, and you wished you could try out the sound on your tongue to see how it tasted. He had eyes the colour of the ocean, but you didn’t know that until later. You’d never seen it before.

He stayed propped up in the med tent most of the time. For observation, Steve explained, worry in his voice, but he didn’t let you disturb Bucky in there. After all, you were just a stranger who didn’t talk or wear shoes, and whose seam was always inexplicably wet, and while you heard the whispers and knew he was smart enough to pick out the kernels of truth, he never told you to leave.

“I saw you that day,” he told you one afternoon, his waterfall eyes keen and focused. “You saved his life.”

A moment of weakness, you thought. You couldn’t help but wish for a lifetime of it.

You snuck in at night, when the nurse had gone to bed, tracing your cool fingertips against Bucky’s burning skin until he sighed in his sleep. In the pale moonlight, he seemed not much older than a boy. Sometimes, he woke up, but he was so delirious he must have mistaken you for an apparition by his bedside.

You silently tucked your cloak closer around him and hoped it was enough.

During the day, you kept close, staying busy by helping the others with the upkeep of the camp or looking for a quiet place to rest for a while. It took a lot out of you, trying to soothe Bucky’s pain, but it was worth it to you.

To him, you were an enigma.

You came out of nowhere into his life, and even though everything he had planned for the rest of it seemed to go up in flames around him and disappear forever, you were determined to stay by his side.

It took a lot of persuasion. You could hear Steve shout at the commanding officers for days, and the wind told you that Bucky heard, too. It spelled out his confusion, and his gratitude. Some part of him sensed your connection to him, even though he couldn’t understand it like you did.

Your boy was only human, after all.

In the beginning, in those early days before you even learned his name, you’d wondered if maybe the simple act of pulling Bucky out of your river had been what had somehow entranced you. If, as time went on, this fondness for him would disappear like the shimmer of light on the surface when the sun was rising; beautiful, but temporary.

It kept you seeking him out whenever you could, silently sitting down next to his chair with a bunch of fabrics to darn as the days kept getting warmer. It smelled of spring. Some colour had returned to his cheeks.

“Steve tells me you’re my guardian angel.” He said it like a reproach.

You merely shrugged and kept sewing. Your fingers were clumsy, not used to the tool, but you’d never been one to give up. When you stole a wayward glance at Bucky, he was watching you. He stirred underneath your gaze, and it made you want to jump up and run, run until you reached your river and could sink back beneath the familiar surface, to stop this racing in your chest, your head.

You tucked your legs underneath you.

It was strange, having legs again. You hadn’t worn them since … When was it, again, that they’d invented those terrible steaming machines that sent angry flares of smoke into the air and made it stink of fire and destruction for miles and miles?

You liked the feeling, though. They stood solid.

You were particularly fond of your toes, curiously burying them in the half-frozen ground until they changed colour, and then rubbing them between your stubby humanlike fingers so that the dirt fell off and they were warm once more.

Still, your soldier barely spoke to you.

You could feel his eyes set on you, though, whenever you walked by or sat at his feet. The cloak around his shoulders was drawing him to you, even if he didn’t know it. There was nothing else to it but ancient spells and unintentional offers.

You tried not to worry about it too much. The spell would fall off him as soon as he was healed enough, anyway, you knew as much.

But you couldn’t help yourself.

You heard his call to you at night, desperate, lonely, searching for some great unknown that he was missing. You felt the tug.

The ache became almost too much for you to bear.

The breeze whispered his name for you, a gentle kiss on his temple, as you lay rolled up in the cot they’d given you, waiting for dawn to bring an end to his nightmares and your untetheredness.

In the daylight, things were difficult in a different way. Oh, you wanted to talk to him, tell him all the stories you’d picked up over the decades. They all seemed so unreal when you were sitting next to him, as if they’d happened to someone else entirely.

The wind lashed out at you in moments like this, clashing fallen leaves into your face and pulling at your hair like a petulant child. Nature wasn’t angry with you, exactly, but she was mourning. She knew long before you did, and did everything in her power to soften the blow.

“How come you’re never cold?” Bucky asked when you rubbed your naked feet across the stone.

You laughed, silently, looking at him with raised eyebrows.

“Right. Yes or no only, correct?”

You smiled and nodded. A light blush spread on his cheeks.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna work out.” Your heart dropped, but he looked at you assessingly, his head slightly tilted to the side. “You don’t happen to know how to write, do you?”

You shook your head slowly. You were able to read human alphabets as well as understand the words, but it’d never seemed useful to you to put something in writing yourself. Whoever would you have addressed it to?

“I can teach you. Still got my working arm left, don’t I?”

He didn’t tell you that he needed this, that he needed to feel like he was still useful in some way, not just a nervous, hollow wreck of a man; he didn’t need to. You could read it in his eyes, and the resignation that was starting to fester at the bottom of his ocean eyes terrified you so much, you barely felt the needle slip before it pricked your finger. You flinched.

One, two, three drops of blood fell onto the fabric, staining the gleaming white. You stared at them, but the swirling thoughts in your head came to stop when he moved next to you and touched your hand.

“Are you alright?” Bucky asked, his fingers curling around your wrist. They were so warm. “You gotta be more careful, angel.”

It was the second time he called you an angel, and though you knew this couldn’t be further from the truth, you felt a strange heat rush through you, to your cheeks and every inch of skin he touched. The blankets around his shoulders had slipped down, and you could make out the silvery-blue edge of your cloak underneath. You bit your lip, and dropped your head.

Bucky let go of you, and the wind couldn’t quite soothe the loss of his warmth.

“I mean it,” he said after a while. “I’d like to teach you, if you want.”

So you went through your chores quickly the next day, and then headed for his tent with a spring in your step. You only stopped in front of the entrance when you heard voices inside.

“The notion came with the mail today,” Steve said. “They’ve made you a captain, Buck. To honour everything you’ve done in the line of duty.”

“Well, look at us, Stevie.” Bucky laughed hollowly. “We’ve both got empty titles to match now.”

You could hear Steve sigh. “Anger doesn’t suit you, pal.”

“It was always good enough for you.”

“I was a kid.”

“And I lost my arm!”

You couldn’t be sure if the cup fell by accident or if it was thrown by design, but it shattered with a spectacular crash, and then there was silence.

It was Steve who left, hands still buried in his hair. He took a moment to notice you, rubbing a palm across his face quickly. “Sorry about that,” he said. “You’re here for your lesson, right?”

You nodded.

“Right.” He coughed uncomfortably. “Well, he’s probably happier to see you than me, so …” He nodded, as if he was hearing an answer you didn’t give, and then he turned, stopping himself again to reach into his coat pocket. “You might need this,” he said, pressing something into your hand before he left.

It was a little red notebook, not much larger than your hand. You stood there, unsure whether you should enter or leave Bucky alone with the churning wave of his grief. In the end, he made the decision for you.

“Are you gonna come in?”

He didn’t sound angry anymore, only tired. You put the tiny notebook into your pocket.

When you pulled the tent open, he was sitting on his cot, and the blurry light falling in from the tiny window cast his face in deep shadows. He blinked against the sun in your back, and some weight seemed to fall off him. You took it for yourself.

It hurt, not being able to tell him everything you wanted to.

You set up outside, using some empty crates as a makeshift table as Bucky pulled out a pen and stared at the blank sheet of paper in front of him. Its edges were flapping in the wind.

He put the tip of the pen down and made a line, almost ripping a hole into the page. His jaw clenched even more. The paper bunched up underneath his hand, and even you could tell he was gripping the pen too tightly.

Carefully, you reached out and held the edge of the paper down for him.

Bucky closed his eyes for a long second and took a breath. Then, he started again.

***

It took another couple of weeks, but as spring grew into an early summer, Bucky began moving around on his own again. He was still weak from his prolonged bed rest, and his walk was off-balance, but more often than not, he picked you up for a round through the camp before settling down for your writing lesson.

You’d assumed that once you’d made your way through the entire alphabet, he’d teach you simple sentences, the ones children started with. Your letters didn’t look much better than theirs, anyway; they lacked the confidence of years of practice.

Soon, however, he was telling you stories.

Stories of places you’d never heard of, of machinery and grand ideas you could scarcely even imagine. Some of them he surely must have made up; they seemed too fantastical to be real. You were supposed to take notes, but found yourself too enthralled by his words time and time again. Trying to focus on your spelling was like swimming upstream; his tide worked against you.

“It’s fine,” he laughed when he’d deciphered your scribblings while you grimaced. “‘Sergeant’ is a hard one. You did great, angel.”

He might have made a wonderful teacher, you thought as you watched him write it down correctly. In a different life, or maybe even in this one.

“Have you ever been able to speak?” Bucky asked one day, in a way that told you he’d been thinking about wording this for so long it finally just fell out as bluntly as this.

Your hesitation, to him, seemed answer enough, because he cleared his throat.

“What happened? If you don’t mind my askin’.”

This was a new habit of his, one that had developed quickly once your spelling got legible. He kept asking you personal questions, and you never quite knew how to answer.

It’s complicated, you wrote slowly.

“Did it hurt?”

You met his gaze, again unsure of your response. You underlined your words. Then, you put up a hand before he could say anything else. The tip of your pen was shaking slightly.

I like this. With you.

He blushed so beautifully, like a sunset lowering its head between the treetops, and he stayed silent for a very long while before he spoke again.

“Could you tell me your name?”

You thought about it. You’d never seen it written down, of course, not in human letters anyway. You weren’t even sure it was proper to tell him.

But his eyes, his rainwater eyes focused on you with that gentle spark of curiosity burning brightly, and you put your pen down again.

You tried several ways of how you supposed it might be spelled before you settled on one that you liked.

Bucky read your name, and you huffed a breath of air. You weren’t one to still believe in gods, but it sounded almost like a prayer on his lips.

The smile that followed it sealed your fate.

You knew, then, that you’d go anywhere with him, if ever he asked. You’d stay by his side as long as he allowed you to, no matter how stormy the waters.

You’d saved his life, but he pulled you to shore.

No nymph was meant to appear a mortal for as long as you had, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave his side, not once you’d heard his laugh and read his thoughts and felt his heartbeat underneath your fingertips. You no longer wondered what your name would sound like on his tongue; you wanted to taste it.

What a strange feeling, desire.

How very human of your transformed body to wish for things your nature would never allow, how flawed a concept. But then, why did your heart feel so … heavy?

You noticed details in Bucky you never thought a human capable of, like the way his eyes would grow soft when he watched his friends, or how determination did not just make him harden but also tremble with sheltered trepidation.

Trains did not go by often during your stay in the camp, but when they did, he was the first to notice. You couldn’t take those terrors from him, no matter how much you wished for it.

You tried, anyway.

***

Falling in love with Bucky was easy, but falling in love with the human world happened all on its own, and you only caught up when they took you upstream. It was strange to realise; their way of living was so fast, so dirty and hurried and grand. It terrified you, and fascinated you all the same. The city was large, and the people seemed so small against its high buildings and neverending cobbled streets. Tiny, countless pebbles in a river.

You kept tight hold of Bucky’s hand as you made your way through the crowd, your nose twitching. There was an air of excitement amongst soldiers and city people alike, and it only got more jubilant once you’d reached your destination.

You swallowed down your beating heart as you tried to take everything in.

The colours, the smells, so strong you thought you might taste them, the feel of dresses brushing against your skin and the sound of laughter and clinking glasses. And the music. You’d never heard anything like it, loud and happy and right in front of you.

You were nudged onto a stool in the corner, watching wide-eyed as the musicians’ fingers moved so fast you could barely keep track, their beat leaving goosebumps all over your skin. All the while, people were dancing in mad circles around them.

You didn’t know whether you’d sat there for minutes or hours by the time Steve emerged from the cluster of people that had formed around the bar. “There you are!” he called over, and even without looking at him, you could feel Bucky smile next to you.

“You’re saying that like it wasn’t you who got side-tracked,” he said, taking another sip of his drink.

“You should be celebrating, Buck, that’s the whole point.”

“I like this,” Bucky said, looking at you, but Steve ignored him.

“What are you doing at the side of the dance floor, anyway?” he said as if he were settling an old score. He turned to you with a conspiratorial look. “Your man is the best dancer around, and don’t let him pretend otherwise.”

Even though he wasn’t drunk, the alcohol had left mischief in Steve’s eyes. With his dishevelled hair and reddened cheeks, he looked rather boyish, and it suited him, you thought. You wondered what Bucky would look like with that much ease running through his veins.

“She doesn’t wanna dance with me, knucklehead,” Bucky groaned. “Now piss off and bother someone else.”

Steve winked at you, but did leave you to it. You watched Bucky watch him walk away. His face puzzled you; it looked almost pained.

“What?” he said quietly when he caught your stare. You gestured for his hand.

I do, you traced into his palm. His fingers twitched. You didn’t let go.

“You do what?” he asked, carefully.

Your eyes flitted to the dance floor, then back to him. The band still played at a fast pace, something that sent feet stamping and skirts twirling. It looked fun.

Bucky lingered in the same realisation for a moment before he grimaced. “I don’t wanna make you look a fool, angel, I don’t.”

You pulled him to his feet.

Standing on the dance floor, you quickly realised that watching the other dancers had made the steps and turns look a lot easier than they actually turned out to be in practice. Your limbs didn’t want to seem to move in that same weightless, flowing fashion; at least not at that speed.

A tiny smirk formed on Bucky’s lips as he tried guiding your feet with his own, his hand loosely holding your waist. The ever-shifting directions confused you; every time you felt like you’d figured it out, it seemed like the movements changed mid-stream and suddenly went the opposite way. You threw your head back in frustration as you stepped on his foot for the tenth time.

Bucky just chuckled. “Hold on,” he told you quietly.

Before you could give him a questioning look, he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you off the ground. With a silent gasp, your hands tightened around his neck, your body pressed closer to his than you’d ever been as he spun you around to the rhythm of the music, your hearts beating in time.

You’d been floating your entire life, but you’d never felt as weightless and carefree as you did right then, his laugh such a beautiful melody you forgot about the rest of the world around you.

Only when he put you back down did you realise that the song must have changed; indeed, the crowd had dispersed, only a few other couples were still dancing to the slow tune the band was playing now. You brushed a strand of hair out of Bucky’s face and smiled, trying to convey every bit of the happiness you felt on your face.

He closed his eyes and touched his forehead to yours, gently swaying you from side to side. You felt your chest expand with it.

It all seemed so impossible.

For you to be here now, with human legs, in the embrace of this man, this brave, handsome, courteous soldier that you adored more than anyone or anything else; how many drops had to have fallen in the right place at the right time to set your path in stone the way it was supposed to be.

“I like you, you know, I really do,” Bucky said quietly. “If things’d been different, I’da asked you to be my girl.”

You stopped breathing.

“I mean it,” he said, tugging your chin up. “You’re beautiful, and kind, and smart, and you saved my life back in that river.”

You shook with his confession, your thoughts swirling. The temptation to give in was almost unbearable when he looked at you like that, like he wanted to explore every last corner of your soul. But he had no idea how deep you ran.

“What is it, angel?”

You wanted to tell him that this was everything you wanted, and that that was the problem. You didn’t know whether this was him asking, or whether your magic had sunk so deep it confused the very core of him.

On the other hand, if you refused him now and ripped it out all at once, wouldn’t that be even worse? What if it took all the good you’d been trying to do away with it as well? No, you couldn’t risk that. You had to stay with him until he didn’t need you anymore; and whether that took forever or just three more days, you’d have to be fine with it.

Bucky sighed and dragged his hand through his hair, taking half a step back. “I’m being selfish, I know. I just can’t help but feel like there’s something …”

He trailed off, and you put a hand over his heart to urge him on. You could feel it racing underneath his layers. He swallowed heavily.

“I’m being shipped back to the States next week.”

Again, you held your breath, even though this time, his confession was like a bucket of ice water down your spine. You didn’t even hear the next couple of sentences, only listening again when he said your name.

“—I can’t ask you to come with me, it’d be—I’m not even—”

You frowned in question. Why not?

He sighed again. “Don’t look at me like that.”

Like what?

“Like I’m worth your pity.”

Your fingers held tightly to the material of his jacket. Bucky didn’t meet your eye. You both must have stopped moving at some point, but suddenly, you felt dizzy.

Slowly, you reached for his hand. You weren’t sure which one of you was shaking more.

Ask me, you traced into his palm. Bucky shook his head. Ask me, you wrote again, more quickly this time.

“I can’t,” he said, wanting. “I shouldn’t.”

Let me, you wrote onto his skin, and you could see the moment his doubts, for now, washed away.

“Come home with me.”

***

The evening before you were set to leave, you returned to the river one last time to say goodbye. Your legs melted together as soon as you immersed yourself in the water, its familiar touch caressing your cheeks.

“I’m here to tell you I’m leaving,” you called out to the fish, but they already knew. You were all part of these waters, and there were no secrets kept.

No matter how much you would miss it, you were sure about your decision. You’d follow him across the sea, over any mountain, to the ends of the world, if need be, where the waters were raining into the sky; if only he’d permit it.

You settled down at the bottom of the river for a final time, letting its slick brush over you and stick to your hair, committing every stone and plant to memory. It was then you realised you’d been searching for the sea your entire life only to find it in a human’s eyes.

You were ready to see what else you would find out there.

When you emerged from the water, it was raining, warm and heavy on your skin after the coolness of the river that was no longer yours. You put your head in your neck, your eyes closed as your lungs readjusted to breathing the sweet spring air.

Bucky was waiting for you underneath the shield of your favourite willow tree, his eyes heavy as he watched you. Your neatly folded cloak was hanging over his shoulder.

“I’ve heard stories, you know,” he said, his hand slowly following the seam of it, pulling it closer to his frame. You bit the inside of your cheek. “They’re not just made up, are they?”

You shook your head slowly.

“Why did you save me?”

The question surprised you in its desperation. Still, you didn’t reach out to him. Even if you had dared, you couldn’t; you seemed frozen to the spot. Instead, your hand found its way to your throat.

Waters or not, you were still incomplete.

But your soldier was as smart as he was brave.

He nodded for you to take the last few steps ashore towards him, and then wrapped you in your cloak as best as he could with his single arm. You shivered as it sank into your skin once more. At the scent of him melting into yours. You could almost taste it.

You looked at him, expecting to see the terror they would always warn you about. The hatred. Betrayal. Fury. What you found in his eyes instead mirrored what you could feel leaking from your own: awe.

He gave you your gift back.

You weren’t well-versed in the traditions that your kind had upheld for centuries, but this even you knew, even after all these years on your own. After all, you’d dreamed it up so many times, never daring to hope it would become reality.

This meant a proposal.

But he couldn’t mean that. No matter what kind of tales he’d heard, he couldn’t know. And you weren’t about to bind yourself to him without his knowledge.

So you slowly, reluctantly shook your head no.

“Did I get something wrong?” Bucky asked, his voice cracking with concern.

He wasn’t supposed to make it this hard. He wasn’t supposed to figure out who, what you were, not like this, not for a good time yet. You had meant to take care of him, but how were you going to, now?

A droplet of river water fell off your lashes and he caught it with his thumb before he could seem to stop himself. You pulled his hand away gently.

You don’t mean it, you traced onto his arm.

He didn’t. It was just the spell, and it would release him any second now.

You couldn’t help but wish for your notebook, then, the one filled with his stories and laughter and all the things you could never say. Maybe its familiar pages would help dull this pain.

Your lungs had dried up and your skin grew warm beneath his touch, but his ache was woven into him by outside forces. Yours though … yours was winning.

“I’ve said a lot of things in my life that I didn’t mean, angel, but this ain’t one of them.”

You looked up at him and found his eyes the same. It should be impossible, that beautiful, terrible, hopeful shade of blue. It had been haunting your dreams for as long as you could remember, and it had nothing to do with the spell you wove upon him on that snowy riverbank.

I love you, you thought, and maybe he did the same.

When he kissed you, it tasted of saltwater, the kind of oceanic sadness you’d so often seen in his eyes. It took your breath away, reduced you to a fish on dry land and made you human again. Something settled, then, with his hand on your back and yours cupping his face. It had the taste of finality to it, this transformation.

He didn’t seem to want to stop kissing you, as if you were still the only thing breathing life into his lungs. Or maybe he was returning the favour.

“Bucky,” you whispered against his lips, and a shudder went through him. “Bucky.”

Your voice sounded different to your own ears, but you couldn’t tell if it was the air or something else entirely.

He said your name with such reverence your knees almost buckled, mouth seeking out yours again before the echo of your last kiss had left it. His hand trailed up slowly, to your side, your elbow, your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin on your temple carefully, adoringly.

There was a gust of wind as the last bit of magic worked its course, but you barely noticed it. Only at the very back of your mind did you come to realise that your toes had gone numb with the cold.

i live for feedback so please don’t leave me hanging 💙 if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

read more about these two in being understood

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes oneshot #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #set me free

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ginevrapng · 5 months

Note

Do you have any favourite fanfictions you've written?

yes i do!<3

there are so many i included asdfghjk i'm so sorry! it was hard to pick, i'm proud of everything i write - ( edit: i completely forgot to mention but these are my favourite fics i've written for harry potter and the marauders not including my anime tumblr )

my favourite fluff works of mine-

— james pining over chubby reader

he'd carry you with one hand all the way up a mountain if it would impress you and get you to notice him. i just love this man so much!! every single time i reread this i smile like crazy.

— "did i ever tell you how beautiful you are?" george x slytherin reader

"so you're in love with me," he remarked. you can hear his grin. the cogs turn in your brain as you remember what you told him. friends to lovers with george weasley??? aaahhh!! i love the pining!

— james overhears people being mean about his chubby girlfriend

"JUST LETTING THE WHOLE WORLD KNOW I HAVE THE BEST GIRLFRIEND EVER," he spins you around again and purposely makes sure those girls can see as he bombards your face with kisses. james loves his chubby girlfriend so much and ugh he just thinks the world of her!! he's the best!!

— best friend! james jealous over peter

when james spotted you sitting far to close to peter his eyes hardened and he gritted his teeth because you shouldn't be sitting close to peter, it's peter of all people. he's your best friend so what are you doing all close to peter like that for. best friend james is the best and i really like the readers relationship with the rest of the marauders, especially peter, and i love how james reacts to those relationships

— "did sirius black just wink at you?" sirius x chubby reader

you pretend to think his jokes are immature and his hair is ridiculous and everyone believes you, apart from the man himself. sirius has the reader all figured out and i love it!! he pays so much attention to her and notices how she really feels, it makes my heart go sryehsjtezserazx i love them

my favourite smut works of mine-

— thigh riding with boyfriend!neville

the whole time neville will be trying to help you with your exam next week you'll be wanting to snog him and find a quiet and dark place in the library to suck his dick. god boyfriend neville means so much to me!! neville is so boyfriend material and i love the whole soft dom vibe

— james with a mummy kink

a smirk appears on your face as you see your boyfriend with tears in his eyes desperately trying to do what he's told. "you want mummy to help you jamie. do y'wanna cum baby?" sub james makes me feel things and i am on my hands and knees thanking however sent in this kinktober concept because it's really hot

— poly!marauders with a somno kink/waking you up by eating you out

"you finally awake sweetheart?" he mumbles against you. combining two things i love more than anything, somno and poly marauders?? i have died and gone to heaven

— "i've missed you" fwb!james x chubby reader

you want more and james can tell by the way you grab hold tightly on his arm and at the same time his hair. you've always stayed away from touching his unruly hair, the main reason being that up close it looks so soft and you worry touching it would cross a boundary. they're both so smitten with each other and want more and i'm losing my mind when i think about it

my full masterlist

#♡ lana's letters #//////#fanfiction recommendation #hp recs #marauders recs

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sitp-recs · 2 years

Text

Wireless 2022 Recs

Another year, anther fantastic H/D Wireless collection with so many treats! We got spoiled with 58 gorgeous art and fic works across all kinds of tropes and lengths. I wanna give a special shout-out to the sexy shorts celebrating friends with benefits and fuck buddies - two of my favourites tropes! - and the gorgeous long fics full of aching and healing for our Chosen One. It was impossible to pick only a few works among so many beautiful, evocative creations, so here are my 17 favourites including art! Keep in mind that my picks are 100% based on my personal tastes and the intention is to celebrate this Fest and to spread some love before the reveals. I hope you guys enjoy these as much as I did, and on that note make sure to also check the amazing recs @the-starryknight shared! Happy readings :)

Shorts

Bright Side by @floydig (T, 2k) ☄️ - brilliant short, sharp and atmospheric, with a gripping sense of space and an impressive amount of story and character packed within. Harry is Draco’s parole officer and they’re both a bit sad and broken but bonding over heat and music and shared trauma, they might find a bit of hope together.

It’s been one year since the war, and Draco is on probation. He lives in a shitty muggle flat in the middle of nowhere in California and delivers pizza. Harry is Draco’s probation officer who visits far too often. Read my rec here.

Mens Rea by @lqtraintracks (E, 3k) 🦊 - BAMF Draco being brilliant and bossy while topping from the bottom, yes please 👏🏻 Harry and I have no choice but to enjoy the ride. Thrilling plot, A+ dialogue and excellent characterization, charming & hot!

Mens Rea: the mental element of a person's intention to commit a crime; or knowledge that one's action or lack of action would cause a crime to be committed.

Nothing Compares by @maesterchill (T, 3k) 🚲- be still my heart, this combines perfect Amsterdam aesthetics and casual-not-so-casual melancholy pining that will leave you soft with aching. A gorgeous take on Auror partners with all the feels packed within 3k.

Working in the International Auror division doesn't exactly lend itself to Harry finding love or having any sort of relationship, what with all the unsociable hours and catching bad guys and never being in one location for more than a few days. Not to mention the permanent fixture of his partner, Malfoy. So, how does a song about lost love end up being the thing that helps Harry find love, in the location he least expected it? Read my rec here.

like freedom by @softlystarstruck and @babooshkart (M, 4k) 🏜 - sweet road trip romance with photographer Harry and a gorgeous and soothing desert scenery. Quiet, intimate and contemplative, this is a perfect comfort read with sublime art pieces that will take your breath away.

Harry doesn’t know the exact moment his life changed. Maybe it was the day Draco Malfoy unwillingly turned up at his front door, or the moment the plane’s landing gear went up and London-Heathrow fell away below them. Maybe it was in the dusty swirl of red rocks and motel rooms somewhere between Tennessee and California. Maybe it wasn't a single moment at all, but a whole series of them, captured with Harry's camera. Read my rec here.

if the world was ending by @saltwatergarden (M, 4k) ☕️ - end of the world angst, that’s what I’m talking about baby!!! Tragic and bittersweet but in a very gentle and hopeful way that makes all the hurt worth it! I’m living for this protective Draco, he pines so beautifully…

The world is ending again, but it's far less dramatic this time. Harry Potter tries to save the day. Draco wishes he wouldn't.

Closer by @pennygalleon (M, 5k) 🛋 - give me all the roommate pining!!!!! I can feel Harry’s gentle yearning running through my body, their dancing around each other infuriatingly charming and sweet, plus a satisfying resolution!

All who know them are convinced that Harry and Draco are a couple. But that's just ridiculous.

To Make A Way by @cavendishbutterfly (E, 5k) 🎥 - movie nights + fwb to lovers, this is peak romance with poetic prose and so much tenderness my fragile heart can barely take it. I don’t ever wanna leave this verse.

When Harry finds Draco in the back row of the cinema, he doesn't mean to accidentally befriend him. Or fuck him. Or catch feelings. The thing is, Draco only does casual.

An Emerald In The Sky by @corvuscrowned (M, 7k)⏳- unfollow me now, this time travel AU is gonna be the only thing I talk about for the next month fuck, what the fuck!!!!! Literally obsessed with this, my favorite fic of the year so far. Get ready for my screaming after reveals MA

The hardest part about shagging an Unspeakable is that they’re not allowed to speak of anything. All Draco knows is that Harry works in Time. Harry works in Time, and while he’s out there in all of that time, it is as unforgiving to him as it is to anyone. Somewhere along the way, Draco realizes he's been thinking in lines, when he should have been thinking in circles. Read my rec here.

You Know the Feeling by @sorrybutblog (M, 12k) 🌯 - such a special fuck buddies to lovers, organic and refreshing with hot smut and lots of physical intimacy. I love the casual summer-y vibes and the whole soft clueless boyfriends realizing how smitten they really are with each other.

Harry’s not sure why he’s started hooking up with Malfoy. Boredom, or the heat of the summer, maybe. Whatever it is, it’s nothing too complicated. Right?

Take the Moon by @tackytigerfic (M, 15k) 🪢 - FAMILY FEELS all around, my heart is bursting with love for these soft dads who are also best friends who are also in love! Complex marriage bond dynamics perfectly executed and a touching arc with autistic Scorpius, who brings two idiots together through their unconditional love for him.

Harry Potter has always wanted a family of his own, and when a deadly blood curse forces him into a marriage bond with his best friend Draco Malfoy, it looks like he might just have found one. It's just a shame they’d always planned to break up after a year. Read my rec here.

Longs

Paper Rings by @lettersbyelise (E, 50k) 💼 - break up make up journey with hot daddy divorce lawyer Draco and the gentlest 8th year romance nostalgia! I loved the parallel narratives and the slow burn full of gentle remembrance, so wistful!

When Harry’s in need of a divorce lawyer, he has no choice but to turn to the best in the trade. Draco Malfoy’s reputation for discretion is flawless, and his track record for winning cases is close to perfect. But he’s also ruthless, passionate, and as infuriating as ever, and the brief relationship he and Harry had in Eighth Year still feels painfully fresh despite two decades spent apart.

Meet Me at Midnight by @the-starryknight (T, 57k) 🧚‍♂️ - one of the best fics I’ve read this year, soothing, inventive and atmospheric, an ethereal fae tale with craftsman Harry and his beautiful healing journey with Draco’s help. This Harry stole my heart with his talent, strength and vulnerability. Bonus points to the immersive dream aesthetics and the political subplot!

Harry was beginning to wonder if he’d ever make anything again when Malfoy stormed through the door of Harry’s furniture shop. Now Harry’s got an impossible Ministry commission to finish, and even less energy than ever to deal with his elusive muse. That is, until he stumbles upon the surreal and beautiful world of a mysterious fae creature. Read my rec here.

Kept in Cages by @sweet-s0rr0w (E, 77k) 🐦 - forget Fantastic Beasts, this is the movie we deserve! A touching and deeply immersive romance with fascinating creatures, organic slow burn full of UST and longing, and a moving healing path for these lovely down and out Harry and Draco.

Deep in the heart of the Ministry lies the Beast Division: a hidden room where ancient beasts roam, and winged creatures soar, and grumpy giant ferrets eat all your biscuits unless you keep them well hidden. Draco Malfoy would know – he’s been working there for five years now, after all. Meanwhile, on Level One, ex-Golden Boy Harry Potter is stuck in another interminable policy meeting, completely unaware of the mysterious comings and goings just three floors below. Read my rec here.

A Case of You by @epitomereally (E, 97k) 🔮 - another break up make case fic with glorious UST, Unspeakable Draco and a great slow burn. Loved Harry here, mysterious and authoritative, and Draco is equally capable and good while embracing his vulnerability. Thrilling, romantic, emotionally satisfying!

Draco was doing just fine working as an Unspeakable in Paris, hanging out with his living and ghostly pals, inventing new spells, and definitely not thinking about Potter. Then, Lucius just had to break out of prison and turn his world upside down. Now, Draco has to return to England, where he is forced to confront how family ties bind us—and one infuriatingly fit Harry Potter. Read my rec here.

ART

close to fine by @getawayfox (T) 🌉 - sunset romance! Such a pretty art style, I felt like I was right there feeling the soft pull of those summery vibes

The thing about summer is that the clock that rules the rest of our lives is temporarily turned off.

Every Feeling That I Get by @sugareey-makes-stuff (T) 🤜🏾🤛🏻 unique style and intense gritty vibes full of tension and want! H A N D S

The events from their malicious past somehow bring Harry and Draco together in a new way.

Eternal Refuge by @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm (T) 👾 - the COOLEST concept, and perfectly executed! I love all the tiny details and interactive format, really intriguing and creative.

Draco Malfoy has been through so much already that there's no point in dreaming about someone whisking him away on some kind of adventure. The future has other plans. A concept sheet for a video game.

#drarry reclist #drarry fests #h/d wireless 2022

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fateinthestars · 3 months

Text

Yeesh has it really been nearly a week since I did a review/ramble post for SCM?

Well as I've replayed some stuff as I'm working on something (I fear due to the way I've decided to do it in the end that it's gonna take a while!), I may as well cover one of the ones I replayed yesterday...

So let's cover 'Whispers of Love from the Stars'

This set includes stories for: Leon, Scorpio, Teorus, Dui, Huedhaut, and Ichthys

Spoilers under the cut

Whispers of Love from the Stars

This whole set goes into specific human myths to do with the constellations and it's rather interesting to see some more of those combined with the Gods' reactions to them.

LEO: Catching Lions with Honey

I'm struggling to think of stuff to say about this one (especially without switching the mature filter on) but the other Gods getting MC into awkward situations in Leon's route does feel rather common!

Ichthys, Teorus, I really think you ought to find a way to apologise to MC.

SCORPIO: Under an Aphrodisiac's Spell

Oh for goodness sake MC! The last thing you saw Scorpio doing was making something. Dui told you it was a poison. Why the hell did you even pick that glass up?!

Still Scorpio was straight and to the point and helped quickly. I am wondering how this would have gone down had it happened with one of the others.

(Yeesh for that matter considering what God's poison does to Humans, what would Zyglavis have done in this situation if it was early on in his route???)

TAURUS: Sweet Prince, Take Me Away

Pffft. Okay this might be one of my favourite Teo stories but I have to admit it's not really because of Teo.

I would say I don't want to spoil the beginning but I think as long as you've played any main story it's pretty damn obvious who the Teorus at the start of this really is.

And I'm still laughing at the fact that a major part of what gave him fully away (even if MC already had doubts) was using his own full name rather than the nickname Teo would have used.

It is interesting that Ichthys does make so many mistakes here though... usually he has impersonating the others voices and mannerisms down really well. The food thing I'm not surprised at, but not thinking about the fact that Teo calls him Ikky? I wonder whether that implies Ichthys doesn't actually really like that but doesn't bring it up with Teo because they're friends and he just lets him do it but might not from anyone else. (Actually Teorus seems to have an ability of getting the others to let him call them by different nicknames - Scorpio doesn't pull him up on calling him Scorpy but the one story where Ichthys does it he bit his head off!)

GEMINI: Lost Between Two Stars

And now we're onto the first of the three in this set where MC isn't dating the God in question yet.

This is a nice sweet trip for MC and Dui with quite a bit of insight into how Dui feels.

I'd be interested to know whether anyone read this one before they read Dui's main story, because the 'dream' sequence in this probably hits slightly differently depending on how much of his backstory you are aware of in advance.

AQUARIUS: Intoxicated by the Deep Blue Night

Ow, my heart. *hugs Huedhaut tightly*

The start of this is an interesting talk between him and MC, and of course Hue knows the human myths for his constellation well because, well, he's Hue... but then suddenly everything is focussed on the past and you can really feel the heaviness in Hue's heart, especially as this is set pre main path.

Sometimes it feels really hard to not want to go and find Hue and just shout tell her! at him. 😅

This does have one of my favourite light-hearted moments though, and that's this:

Pfft oh Hue. 🥰 Guess I was right in my post where I basically said it felt like sometimes you should ask Hue and Karno to step away from the others to trick them into having a break.

PISCES: The Tangled Red Thread of Fate

Oh I utterly adore this chaos. Yes it's another Ichthys story before he's with MC but this one really does feel like it could have been the start of something.

Although, Ichthys? You really do get a rush out of infuriating Scorpio don't you? There was no reason to use that specific thing to act out the myth!

I adore Hue's reaction to the situation in this too. (Although his comment about fate specifically? My heart's breaking again...)

Attempted ranking thingy:

Aquarius

Pisces

Gemini

Scorpio

Taurus

Leo

Odd, the three that are pre-relationship on the top? But I think even though these are really close together in enjoyment level (apart from maybe Leon's) for me, that those three are the highlight of this set. Scorpio's also adds some interesting lore which is probably why I've put him just above Teo's even though here Teo is charming and sweet and even Ichthys' prank can't really dampen his mood because it showed him how well MC knows him.

Those top three though: Dui's is almost like a missing piece of a jigsaw puzzle that rounds off the start of his path nicely. An actual attempt to suggest to MC that there is a problem and what she would think if she knew... Ichthys' is the least consequential of the three but there's just something here that really sparks for me (I do wonder whether that is partly due to Hue's reaction - it's almost like he's realised something has started between the two of them and is happy to step back and watch. Like you get in some of the other main paths - he never interferes but is always making sure in his own way that MC is happy and not in danger)... which leads us nicely onto Huedhaut's own story - it just encompasses everything Hue is as a character in one short burst: from his vast knowledge (even of stuff like human myths) to his winemaking abilities, to his sarcasm (but ability to stop when he realises he's taking it too far), all the way to his complete and utter inner turmoil at having to see MC every day knowing something that he doesn't dare bring up but still cannot stop himself from vaguely murmuring stuff related to his secret.

#scm #star crossed myth #scm ramble #star crossed myth spoilers #star crossed myth character review/rambling

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kuroneko1815 · 1 year

Text

Time of the Hidden Dragon

Snippets from my AU of the second half of Time and Regret where Callisto never went to the Roan Kingdom and never met Judy. Now he meets Marchioness Judith Henituse-Thames, Penelope’s sixteen year old daughter (in reality she’s eighteen but she’s in disguise so shh… she doesn’t want anyone to find out). This one is already about half the length of Time and Regret. And it’s part of the planned Time series. Also for @touya-r who wants to see the Adult Judith and Callisto reaction.

A little note: Anything in italics is in their dreamscape.

He had been retired by then and had tended to the greenhouse from time to time but not to the extent he had been doing since then. “Are you just going to stare at me?” His father asked as finally looked up at him, garden sheers in his hand.

“Why don’t you go to the welcoming ball with us?” He offered, his father had withdrawn from society after the news arrived and nothing roused him anymore. The only place he went to now was to the family cemetery where they had erected memorials for Yvonne and Penelope.

“Why would I do such a bothersome thing as that?” His father turned away, already done with the conversation. He knew that his father would answer that way but he felt like this wasn’t something he would want to miss.

“Father.” He called out again. “She’ll be there.”

His Father turned back to him. “Who is this ‘she’ you’re speaking of? Are you or Derrick finally getting married? If so, then I’ll consider going to meet my new daughter-in-law.” He was testy and impatient, his father had brought up the topic of marriage a few times and that wasn’t an argument he wanted to happen right now.

“No. Penelope’s daughter, Marchioness Judith Henituse-Thames will be coming in person to receive the award for her mother along with her Aunt, Lady Lily Henituse and a few other nobles.”

“Oh.” Her father breathed out. He stood up immediately. “When did you find out?”

“This morning. The Roan Ambassador sent over the list of delegates and the ladies of Henituse were at the top of it. The Emperor pushed Princess Alissa to prepare the finest rooms when he heard the news. There are talks that he’s reopened the Emerald Palace for the delegation.”

Judith stared blankly at Prince John Regulus, he was, by everyone’s acknowledgement, the first in line to the throne after the Emperor Callisto Regulus. A boy of dragon blood that he had brought in after swearing never to wed or father a child. Well… he kept one vow but failed epically on the other before it had even been made. She forced herself to smile at the man that was greeting them.

She wouldn’t meet the Emperor until the ball tomorrow night. She checked that the bracelet was still on, her mother’s last gift to her while she still breathed was a magic bracelet that changed the colour of her hair and eyes, as well as binding her wings so that she wouldn’t have to expend the energy and magic to hide it away. The artifact was made by a combination between of the magic of the ancient mages and dragon magic which meant it was undetectable by regular mages.

She stared at the beautiful flowers in the garden that led to the high hedges of the garden maze that her mother had once spoken of. “It’s a beautiful garden.” She praised.

“Thank you, Marchioness.” Prince John said with a happy smile. “The Emperor tends to it well.”

“The Emperor does?”

“Yes.” There was a sad smile on his face. “Every morning he would go and tend to the flowers, of course there are gardeners that does quite a lot of work after he leaves but he makes sure the magic that keeps these alive year round are still active and of course, he prunes them.”

Judith smiled and glanced at her aunt. The two of them had noticed that the garden was filled with her mother’s favourite flowers and chose not to think on it. The Prince led them deeper into a tour, his wife, Princess Alissa had excused herself early on as she went to see to some issues that had sprung up as they tended to do in everyday life. While their two children returned to their studies.

She gave him a smile. “Penelope.” He breathed out when he went to hug her but she held her arms out to stop him.

“Your Majesty.” It seemed even in his dream she was going to be distant with him. “There’s something I’ve wanted to do for so long.”

“Oh?” He asked happily as he leaned closer. This was more like it. He knew his dreams wouldn’t make her so cold. He closed his eyes anticipating the kiss, except what he got was a stinging slap to the face that had his head turning so fast he was surprised he wasn’t suffering from whiplash. Before he could react properly, she punched him in the gut, hard, and he doubled over.

“I’ve wanted to do that for over eighteen years.” She said sweetly. “Be grateful I’m not doing anything else to you. A kick down there wouldn’t be out of the question if you piss me off.”

“You’re still mad.” He said when he finally stood straight.

“Do I look mad?” That was a trick question right? Her eyes were blazing green hellfire and the wind that picked up her hair made it seem like coiled snakes about to strike, her mouth was set in a firm line.

All in all… “You look beautiful, like a vengeful goddess about to strike me down.” Was he turned on? Maybe, yes.

She rolled her eyes. “Your tongue still spouts the weirdest things. Are you senile now, old man?” She said, ahh, her acerbic tongue, how he had missed it’s razor sharp edge about to cut him to pieces. Though she was a lot more disrespectful now.

“I noticed you made no mention of my looks.”

She raised an elegant brow. “You and I know that you’re still easily the most handsome man in the Empire. You’d probably have been able to seduce all of the women away from their husbands if you had just kept your mouth shut and put your sword away at all times.” She paused. “Or if you stripped.”

The reference to their first night left him grinning even as his ears felt hot. He gave her a lecherous grin as he started to casually unbutton his sleep shirt.

“What are you doing?” Penelope asked obviously confused.

“Well. You said I could seduce all of the women when I stripped. Let’s test out that theory, shall we?” He approached her and she backed away slowly before she stopped, her face completely blank as she finally understood what he was saying and just as he was about to reach her, she pushed him hard and he rolled down the hill.

It didn’t hurt, just felt like soft pillows and silk sheets unlike her hits which had felt real and painful. “Really? Even in a dream?” Her tone was so disapproving and he suddenly felt as though she were about to nag him on something, or pull his hair. Thank gods baldness wasn’t something that ran in the family.

“Oh, with you? Always.”’

She gave him a look that would’ve had him six feet under before her gaze turned serious.

Reynold’s eyes were stuck on the Marchioness though. He almost felt like he had stepped back in time, her face was so much like her mother’s. He heard the sharp inhale of breath his father took as they approached the middle of the room. Her group converged around her as Sir Lupin whispered something in her ear that elicited a laugh. It wasn’t obscenely loud or anything but the quiet whispers of the crowd, especially those who had met Penelope before rang around the room and her laughter had brought her into sharper focus as they inspected the beautiful young woman in front of them and compared her to Penelope.

When it was the Marchioness’ turn, he froze as she gazed up at him and he felt as though he had been transported back in time. If he ignored her colouring and height then it was Penelope looking back at him.

“It’s an honour to be here, Your Majesty, the Great Sun of Eorka.” She greeted him.

“Welcome Marchioness, I hope you enjoy your stay here.” He said immediately. Then, the greetings done, he turned and declared the ball open. Nodded as his cousin led his wife to the dance floor to begin the first set.

His eyes remained on the Marchioness as he thought about what he had once wished for, had held it dearly in his heart throughout his relationship with Penelope, and had even whispered it to her and had received a slap in the arm for as she blushed and begged him to stop joking. But it hadn’t been a joke. Even if he had never spoken it out loud again, Callisto still dreamed of it. A little girl who looked like Penelope.

And there she was, but it wasn’t his daughter. She was a tall girl, especially for someone her age. She was sixteen at most, if he thought about the timing of it all.

Gilbert Eckart stared at Penelope’s daughter with an aching heart. She looked so much like his youngest that it hurt. But where Penelope had been guarded, her heart shattered by the constant abuse and of getting her hopes dashed repeatedly, her daughter was light and happy. The very image of a girl who had been cherished so very much.

Bringing along Emily was enough, that was also why she had said that it was okay not to have any of the dragons accompany her when they offered. Yes, she missed the companionship and mental speak that they did but they would also catch on to her plans quite easily and would try to stop her.

So what if she was risking death? Her poor mother shouldn’t have suffered and died the way she had. From the moment she had received her mother’s ring, she had seen the state of her mother’s soul and had wept in horror. It had haunted her nightmares and fuelled her resentment towards the people of Eorka, especially her father who had broken her mother’s heart and had killed her the most. If things worked out, she would fade into non-existence.

Depending on whether or not her mother chose to have her, which meant beginning a relationship with her father. Which was also dependant on when her mother remembered. She may or may not be born. If she was able to do it right, she would be able to send her mother back to just before Leila made her appearance. That should give her enough time to run away from Eorka and into their family’s loving arms. Maybe she should send Emily back as well.

“That was a good spar, Lady Judith.”

The Lady smiled at him as she picked up her sword and accepted his hand, pulling her up easily. “Thank you, though I did warn you that I wasn’t that skilled.”

“Now you’re just being modest.” Or was she, the way she looked told him she was serious. Well, he remembered the way Choi Han had cut a bloody path during that final battle, the way the Molans tore through the ranks of monster and mage alike and realized she had been surrounded by strong people all her life.

In her eyes she was weak but when scaled to normal people, she had surpassed many normal humans. Especially since she was only fifteen or sixteen years old.

“I’m honest about my assessment so listen to me now, don’t compare yourself to the legends you grew up surrounded by. You’re already far above what the majority of humans are capable of. And you’d likely be a sword master by the time you turn twenty.”

“You think so?” She asked, eyes looking at him both hopeful and shy.

He felt himself smile though he didn’t know what it looked like. “I know so.”

“Did you have a good childhood?” He asked, it seemed as though she did but he wanted to know. Didn’t understand why it mattered so much to him that she did.

“The best kind.” She answered sincerely. “The only thing I was missing was Mama.”

“Not your father?” He questioned quietly.

She shook her head. Long curly hair flying side to side. “No. You can’t miss something you never knew you lacked. I had my grandfather and all of my uncles, even a few surrogate grandfathers thrown in so it wasn’t a presence that I longed for. And I honestly wanted nothing to do with someone who could break my mother’s heart.”

There it was, that dark twisted spike curling in him at the confirmation that Penelope had truly fallen in love with another. “I see. Well, father’s are overrated. I didn’t have a relationship with my father but I turned out just fine.” He assured her proudly.

She looked at him dubious. “My mother wrote in her diary that you were an unhinged psychopathic lunatic and an unrepentant bastard.”

He burst into laughter. “Your Point?” He teased her. “You are quite blunt. Your Mother was the same, that woman chose the most cutting words in the world when talking to others.”

Judith flew high into the sky, searching for traces of her mother’s magic, she had felt some of it in the cemetery, and some in the Duchy, there were traces in a cave within a forest but it was scattered. But now, she flew towards the great source that she felt when she sensed another thing. A scent was in the air and she grinned as she released her invisibility spell and saw another dragon do the same.

She engaged in a light game of tag with Dodori as they played around in the air. They finally decided to land deep into a forest not too far from the Capital and returned to their human forms.

She and Dodori looked around the same age now, his aging seeming to have stopped in his early twenties.

“What are you doing here?” She asked as she hugged her friend.

“Just wanted to check on you and make sure things are alright here.”

She grinned at him as she hugged him again, giving herself an excuse to hug him for longer. So what if she had a crush on him. He was handsome and the age gap was negligible if you thought in terms of dragons but she also wouldn’t act on it. Right now, she didn’t think she was in love with him or really felt that deeply beyond an appreciation for his good looks and some hero worship at her former instructor.

They spoke together for a bit before he said his goodbye and teleported away, assured of her well being. It couldn’t be helped though. She was in the eyes of all the dragons, the baby of their kind. She was currently the youngest one among their people, Raon being the second, and Dodori taking the third youngest title.

He turned to her, she was standing over him. Her long hair was like a curtain giving them privacy, her brow raised and her face just inches from him. He sat up slightly, closing the gap until their lips touched and he grabbed her, pulling her down to him, one hand wandering down to squeeze a cheek the way he used to.

She pulled away immediately, her hand went out to slap him repeatedly as she got off of him. “What the hell? Seriously, even here you’re thinking about this?”

“Tch, even in my dreams I’m being forced into celibacy.”

“You’re not being forced into anything.” The Princess said as her assault continued. “You can take any other woman into bed.”

“Well, I don’t want them in my bed.”

“Then you’re at fault for repressing yourself then.”

He rolled his eyes as he finally let down his hands from where it was protecting his face. Penelope was sitting down in front of him, her lips were quirked into a pretty smile. “None of those women do anything for me.”

“Oh, did something happen? That bit isn’t working anymore?” She asked, her words rather crude as she gestured at him.

“If it wasn’t working, do you think I would be acting this way towards you?”

“So you’re just as big of a perverted lecher as you were back then, Old Man?”

Judith stood with a smile so obviously fake, it put Uncle Alberu’s to shame. The more she heard with her dragon hearing, the angrier she got. And her smile was gradually changing, she knew. Soon it would be the full on patented Henituse-Thames scammer smile on her face, even now she struggled to control it as her mind began thinking up ways to scam the people in this banquet. Especially Princess Alissa who was a grown woman acting like a child throwing a tantrum.

Honestly, she didn’t even understand what was happening and why she was angry at Judith but she was already at her limits. Just as she thought that, the Princess approached her. Her smile became fixed on her face.

She didn’t think the Princess would try anything overt when the Emperor’s sole focus had been on Judith the entire time, and with the Crown Prince’s sharp gaze on his wife the moment he noticed she was walking towards her.

“Come join us, Marchioness.” The Princess offered.

She wanted to scoff. Join her and her little crew of malicious matronly harpies? No thanks. She wasn’t that old. But she kept her words to herself even as she continued to smile. Nodding and responding at the appropriate moments.

Her keen eyes saw the Princess gaze at one of her ladies and nod slightly which meant that Judith was prepared when the Lady ‘tripped’ and splashed some wine on her. Or rather, tried to splash wine on her. She side stepped the oncoming liquid, used her fan to block the rest, and held out an arm to catch both the falling Lady and her glass. Unfortunately, the wine splashed onto the Princess who was standing next to her.

Then the shrieking began as the Princess lost her composure and her hand raised to slap Judith. Just as she was about to dodge the blow, mindful of the fact that she couldn’t strike back or face charges of assault on a Royal, the Princess’ other hand reached out and grasped her wrist in a vice like grip as she hurled insults at her.

All the music had stopped and all attention was on them. She had no idea how she looked but at least the Princess seemed to be slightly unhinged in her eyes. The Crown Prince arrived, grabbing his wife’s hands even as the Emperor rushed to them.

As the Princess was being pulled away from her, she realized something crucial. The Princess’ grip hadn’t let up and the hand she had grabbed was the one with her bracelet. She could feel the chain digging into her skin. “NO! WAIT!” She screamed out loud just before the chain snapped and another silence descended.

The Emperor stopped and stared at her wide eyed and so did everyone else.

“You… you…” The Princess stuttered.

Damn. She never wanted anyone to find out about this.

Callisto’s eyes followed Penelope’s daughter as she made her rounds around the banquet. Frowning when he saw Alissa approaching Lady Judith. He had asked John to keep the two separate after a few encounters between the two had ended badly, all due to Alissa who seemed to have a particular hatred for the Marchioness.

He watched as she followed Alissa to her circle of ladies and winced but immediately began to grow amused as the girl clearly seemed to have stopped listening to their conversation and her eyes wandered around, catching his a few times. Penelope had been like that as well, even though she seemed to be able to hear everything at the same time.

Then he saw one of the Ladies trip and wine flew in the air, Lady Judith managed to dodge it but it ended up splashing on Alissa. Oh, he prepared himself for the explosion. And it was, the scream changed as she raised her hand another grabbing the Lady and he stood, rushing to the scene, only to be beaten by his cousin who pulled his wife away.

“NO. WAIT!” Lady Judith screamed as her eyes stared at the bracelet about to be torn off her. He knew from their talks that it was one of her mother’s last gifts and he mentally made a note to have it restored, it all fell away though as the bracelet finally snapped and the image of the girl in front of him changed. He froze, mind going blank as he stared at her.

Dirty blonde hair and hazel eyes were gone, replaced by golden curls and ruby eyes, dragon wings protruding from her back. Eighteen. His mind whispered. Eighteen not sixteen. Penelope’s daughter was eighteen. His daughter was eighteen.

The banquet had fallen to absolute silence as Lady Judith buried her face in her hands before she took a deep breath and looked at him for a moment then with her exhale, the wings disappeared. Folding into her back. Their eyes were still locked, ruby on ruby. His daughter was staring at him. His daughter… daughter?

Gods. He had a daughter! He was a father! He had a daughter with Penelope… he had a daughter with Penelope and he had missed out on her whole life. Penelope had made him miss it by keeping her a secret. He felt angry, upset, and hurt. This betrayal, he didn’t know how he felt anymore. Especially when she knew how much he had wanted a daughter that looked like her.

He shook himself, mind going off on a tangent. Cedric approached him with an unreadable look.

“Lady Judith…” He began, clearing his throat before he decided that enough was enough and he turned to the people. “This banquet is over.” He declared.

No one made to move though. His daughter was still standing, the emotions leaving her face the longer she stood still, then someone swooped in. It was Dodori, the Pink Dragon she had introduced him too a few days ago. He approached her and led her away, his glare intense.

He sat in his room with a bottle of wine and stared at Penelope’s portrait. For the first time, he didn’t feel good when staring at her face. He was alone now, Cedric had left him there, running away the moment he had dismissed him because he knew he would’ve struck his oldest friend down if he looked at him any longer. Cedric had known Penelope was pregnant when she reappeared in Roan’s high society but had kept it to himself because of some trashy agreement he had signed. It was a two pronged betrayal.

He fell asleep.

“So you finally know.” Penelope said as she met him the moment his eyes closed.

Anger rose within him as he grasped her arms.

“Why? Why would you do this to me? Why would you keep her from me?” He asked, voice cracking at how utterly gutted he felt.

She looked at him, face blank. “What makes you think you deserved it? I couldn’t trust you with her. What was to stop you for hurting her the way you hurt me? It was the only way I could protect her.”

He stumbled away from her at her words. Protect their daughter from him? Him? Hurt their daughter? Hurt the only piece of Penelope left in this world?

“I already know that all you wanted was the throne and the Eckart were crucial for you to have at your back. To get that you needed an Eckart Princess, it didn’t matter which one. But I was the only one available at the time.” She continued on and he wished for her to stop. “What would you have done to the daughter of a woman you despised?”

“Penelope…” He began, wanting her to understand that it wasn’t like that. That he truly did love her but he couldn’t.

She raised her hand. “I tried to tell you, that day. Our last day, when you chased me with your sword but you wouldn’t stop, wouldn’t listen.”

Stop. Please. He begged in his mind. Images of that day flashed in his mind only it was Judith running away in fear instead of Penelope.

Penelope sighed. “Now that you know, there’s no point in trying to pretend that her identity wasn’t revealed. Go talk to her when you’re both ready but don’t put it off too long. It’ll fester. And ask her about the letter.” Then Penelope brushed her hands on his forehead and gave it a kiss.

#death is the only ending for a villainess #vadd #villains are destined to die #callisto regulus #death is the only ending for the villainess #penelope eckart #fic ideas #penelope eckart x callisto regulus #penelope x callisto #cedric porter #fanfic #judith regulus

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chilapis · 11 days

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hi almandine ! i hope ur having a wonderful day ; are u taking breaks and eating well ? idk if the semesters are as long as they are for me bc i know we live in different places, but i wish u so much good luck for ur studies as the end of the academic year approaches 🫶 i wanted to ask, what kind of person is leon? what does he do, whats the world he lives in like, and how do u see him thru ur eyes? my only exposure to him is through .. online mods and gifs ive seen of him go viral, u probably know the ones LOL, but i wanted to learn abt him from u if thats okay 🫶 (@dmclr)

Our semester has pretty much come to its conclusion — my first final is in…. 18 days? Just a little over two weeks, which is a terrifying thought. I’ve been trying to see to my needs and give myself a break and here though! <3 I just hope you’ve been taking care of yourself the same way? Please don’t let yourself drown in academic or other stressors, and know that with as strong as you are, you can overcome anything.

The online mods…. Yeah, I’ve. seen a couple. They’re, something certainly. (My reaction to that information v)

What does he do? Well, he was a cop— just started his job, actually (like one day? literally one day? It was the first day?), but then pretty much got hired by The President and got employment as a government agent for the United States. Fun.

The Resident Evil world is… interesting? Kind of like if, “fuck around and find out” and, “instead of asking if you can, ask if you should” combined. There’s biological weapons running rampant, including dogs, literal zombies (but we don’t call them zombies, no), and uh…. Huge grey men?

Say hi to him. He will not die. You cannot kill him. You cannot kill anything in this stupid universe actually. My favourite Resident Evil game, Resident Evil 7 (which… ironically doesn’t have Leon in it) literally features this one stupid fucking Southern family (whom I love so sweetly) and the father, Jack Baker, just will. Not. Die. You know how in games you get to experience different boss battles? Yes, well, I don’t remember how many boss battles are in RE7, but I will tell you this: 3 of them belong to Mr. Baker ENTIRELY. He just mutates worse and worse and you keep thinking he is dead but he is NOT. You kill his wife and she dies but no, he just won’t fucking die. And then you buy the DLC and you play as the big, strong, veteran uncle who just PUNCHES THINGS INSTEAD OF USING WEAPONS AND IT SOMEHOW FUCKING WORKS and guess who the big bad is! You’ll never guess! You’ll never figure it out! That’s right! It’s Jack Fucking Baker for the fourth god damn time and now he looks even more disgusting and corrupted. Although the game did not include Leon (it held Ethan Winters, a darling father), it’s still set in the same universe so I feel like you can get a pretty good… idea from all of that, yes? Remember ! Nothing. Dies. If you think it’s dead, it is not, it is simply now More aware of your existence.

Now, onto the actual man himself.

First of all? Not related to my view on him but he’s was… kind of misogyny-coded in the original Resident Evil 4 and that makes me giggle a little but I still somehow prefer that RE4 to the 2023 Remake. I know I reblog gifs of the remake a lot and that is simply because, I mean, who doesn’t enjoy experiencing their silly guy with better graphic quality, right? But I don’t like the alterations they did to certain scenes and dialogues. Also he looked like this in the original re4 which scares me more than the undying mutated abominations so, I. Well.

(^ NOT RELATED TO THE MISOGYNY HE WAS SUFFERING FROM DISEASE HE WAS ILL)

Okay, okay, anyway…. I HATE how the fandom views him, it stresses me out. They view him as this demanding, super serious, violent, brooding man who just wants a stupid, ditzy, useless girlfriend he can dominate, control and be a creep towards but that’s… not him? Like, how do you mess up so bad. This isn’t a particular part of the fandom as much almost the majority of it, sadly.

I feel like he’d, if anything, be a “wife guy”; he has a stressful job, he is traumatised beyond belief, he looks death in the eyes on a regular basis, he lost his parents when he was young, he has went through a-lot. And yet he’s so gentle, he still believes in saving everyone. He still believes in humanity and has this hope in him. He is still… soft. I don’t think he’d be a controlling or aggressive partner; I think he just wants something comforting to come back to, and he’d be SO grateful to have a partner who sticks by him through thick or thin, he’d be so genuinely giddy while taking about them. He lost his parents for fuck’s sake and got stuck in this godforsaken infected world when he was just 21… he wants home, I think more than anything he wants to come back to a place where he doesn’t have to think, where things can be handled for him and all he has to do is let himself be loved. Praised and acknowledged for once in his (somewhat miserable, let’s be honest) life. I mentioned, while answering Lucy’s ask, that I view him as a guard dog, and I think that’s perfect for him. He exists to protect — he has dedicated himself to that protection, to offering that canopy. His aggression is never on the offence, it has never been; not once, but it is done as a protective measure. If the years have reduced Ajax to a sword then they have reduced Leon to a shield. He just wants his efforts acknowledged — he just wants praise and warmth and comfort — and yet are they ever? At-least, to the degree they deserve? He falls into a depressive state in Resident Evil: Vendetta and it stings. He is such a simple man and I genuinely believe domesticity could fix him. He has never known what it’s like to feel safe — why would anyone want to force him to be a protector even in his partnership, even in intimacy? Let him relax for fuck’s sake. Let him. know what it’s like to be on the other end for once in his life. Comfortable clothes, hand holding on a warm cup of tea rather than a gun or a knife. No news channels and no social media or nothing. Phone on DND. I do not care if the USA burns to the ground, I want him to rest his head on my shoulder and finally get the sleep he hasn’t had in years. Civilian lives can wait a few hours to be saved.

#do you understand how fucking much I hate the fandom. get your hands OFF him #🥀 — colloquy.#🫀🐕

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indian-kahani · 10 months

Text

Day 28: Walk of Pride

sorry for not posting in ages guys i was struggling through my writer's block -_- anyway here you go! hope you like it <3 i struggled to write it ngl, idk if I really like it but ah well.

tags: @desi-lgbt-fest, @manujanolavu @morally-gayy @desi-yearning (let me know if you want to be added/removed)

Rati had always been scared to attend a Pride festival.

It felt like admission: yes, I am gay. Yes, I am proud.

Proud of what? What did she have that made her special? She had always been a blank puzzle, with missing pieces that could be scattered anywhere across the globe. How was she supposed to colour herself in rainbow and call it Pride?

Rainbows had always seemed like sad, fickle things to her. Small chinks of happiness that were erased by the sun. That were only possible with the most specific combination of events. Rain, and sunlight slanting exactly the right way.

Then what did that say about herself?

What did that make her?

Delicate? Impossible?

She had always been such a good girl: she sat in the front row. She played two instruments. She handed her work in on time. She didn’t doodle, didn’t gossip, didn’t daydream. Didn’t, didn’t, didn’t. Her entire life had hinged on couldn’t, wouldn’t, didn’t.

What could she do?

She was named for the Goddess of Love, after all. Then why wasn’t she confident in her own? Did that kind of confidence only come with straight love? Was she really as broken as her mother implied when she talked about lesbians? Every time she felt butterflies in her stomach, she locked them away. The day she called herself gay, she felt something inside her that she hadn’t felt before.

A sense of belonging.

That was the only reason she persevered, if she was being honest. That feeling had lit a flame inside her, a tiny sun of her own.

God knew there was enough rain in her heart. Maybe this little sun would make her own rainbow.

So when she went to college, she kept her head up and a smile on her face. She knocked at the door of the college Pride Club, and when the leader, (‘Padma’, her name tag read) opened it, she plucked up all her courage and asked:

“Excuse me, does this college have a pride event?”

She was half expecting Padma to laugh at her. For her to shoo her away and say that young girls, in their first year at college, didn’t belong at Pride.

Except – that wasn’t what happened at all.

Padma held the door open with a gentle smile and beckoned her in. “Of course! In fact, we have a pride event tomorrow, to mark the end of Pride Month. Do you want to meet the rest of the team?”

Rati hesitated. If she stepped over that line that marked the boundary between corridor and classroom, she would be safe. She could go back to reading in the library and not stirring up a fuss and presenting as ordinary. She could be good little Rati that never stepped out of line, just like she had been for the last seventeen years.

But something inside her was tired of being good. A little voice (her namesake, perhaps?) whispered to her that perhaps it was time to try being bad for a change.

And so, she offered a radiant smile for what she hoped to find in that room.

“I would love to.”

Pride Club was not like what she had expected at all. In fairness, though, she didn’t know what she’d expected. Whatever it was, it wasn’t this.

Ten to fifteen students lounged around the classroom, eating their lunch and chattering playfully with each other. Padma, perhaps sensing that she was getting a little shyer, put a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Guys!” she called to make herself heard over the chatter. “Oi! Guys!”

Everyone turned to look at her, and Rati dropped her gaze to the ground at their subtle scrutiny. “This is our new member, Rati,” Padma gestured to her. “Be nice, all right?”

“Hi, Rati!” A short girl with choppy bangs grinned at her. “I’m Anshika, Padma’s favourite-” she lowered her voice, winking as if divulging a secret, “-and only – girlfriend!”

Padma blushed. “Shut up.”

“H-Hi, Anshika-ji.” Rati managed to smile shyly at her.

“I’m Khushi!”

“Anshuman.”

“Hey! Ravi here.”

As they made their introductions, something settled in Rati’s heart that had been fluttering around inside of her. She allowed the smile on her face to settle. This… this felt nice.

The next day, it took far less courage to show up to the Pride event.

This is it. She thought. I’m finally admitting it.

She held her flag tightly, and when the moment came, waved it high in the air. For once, the rainbow seemed strong, invincible. More than a trick of the light.

This felt like belonging.

This was her family.

This was her place.

And this was her pride.

hope you guys like it! feel free to tell me what you think in reblogs/comments etc :]

@desi-lgbt-fest

#avani writes #after ages #desi lgbt fest 2023 #desi writing #desi #desi teen #desiblr #desi lgbt fest #lesbian #gay #bisexual #lgbt+#lgbtq #lgbtq+#lgbtqia+#lgbtqia #indian-kahani #indian kahani #desi writers

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amuseoffyre · 10 months

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Hi - asking questions 2, 8 and 27 from the fic writer's list. Love your work 😍

Thank you :D I'll try and rein my answers in, but we'll see how successful I am XD

2. Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

Planning happens very, very rarely. I tend to write with a very loose idea of what's going to happen. This doesn't just apply to chapters but to entire fics. Sometimes I go in knowing maybe 2-3 specific scenes/moments and the rest of it is all just optimistic keysmashing, hoping my hindbrain will Do The Thing and make it work.

On the rare occasions where I do plan, it's when I have the whole story dropped in my brain in one go. That said, my version of a plan is usually 3 bulletpoints of things I need to happen. A good example of this was when I was working on Bark and Bite and it was the first full moon chapter. My outline was: Ed hears Stede go crunchy, Ed thinks the wolf ate Stede, Benny-Hill-sequence around the ship, FRIENDSHIP. So, as you can see, I take it super serious 🤣

oooh, but on that note, let me show you the planning I did for my original writing, because writing time travel - especially multi-timeline time travel - was a hell of a thing. I had to break it down by day, character and chapter to keep track of who was where/when since I needed it to work within the rules of time travel that I had within the story. This was for one book. The next book was so much worse. I had to resort to colour-coding.

As you can see, it got pretty specific.

8. Do you prefer the beginning, middle, or end of a story?

I haaaaate endings. I hate trying to find a way to tie up everything in a way that doesn't sound twee or silly or cliche. Don't really have a preference for beginnings or middles because I enjoy the journey, but me and endings are old enemies. Plus there's that whole ADHD thing of getting 75% done, knowing how it ends, and then having to fight my own brain to finish anything.

27. What is your most and least favorite part of writing?

I think the least favourite part is the finishing, as mentioned above. It's so hard.

But my favourite things are two-fold and they dovetail into one another so nicely:

when I write something into the story and I don't know why I've written it into the story, but I just look at it and I know "you are important". I don't know why. I don't know when it'll be significant, but I feel this deep sense of Rightness that this is essential and important and it has to be there. It could be something as trivial as a picture-frame or a certain book. It might be a fly-by one-liner that seems like a joke in passing, but when I look at it, it's like a hook in the middle of my chest and I know YES. THIS.

the second part of this is when I get to the reveal of why that thing is important. It's like that mindblown gif, because so often it's something so small and insignificant, I don't even realise that it's a single thread of a tapestry I've been weaving and suddenly, the story would have made no sense without it. It doesn't seem relevant but suddenly it's there and it's integral and I frequently find myself clutching my face and going 👀 because I never ever see it coming until it happens.

A perfect example of this is my Turning Tides/Storm Surge combination. Turning Tides started life as a series of one-shots that escalated into a full series and there was stuff I put in #1 that I went "I feel like this seems relevant..." and it was only when I read back after finishing Storm Surge I realised I had foreshadowed huge lumps of the Storm Surge arc. I didn't even notice but my hindbrain is always whirring away like a coked-up hamster in a wheel. It comes up with plot twists that make me yell, so I can only imagine how my readers react :D My old flatmate used to come and check on me when I was flailing too loudly over Surprise Plot Twist 17 that I wrote but didn't see coming 🤣

#meme #fanfic ho!

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number5theboy · 2 years

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it might be hard to pick, but what's your favourite greek myth parallel/reference/allusion in regards to five? (i hope i phrased that right lmao)

for me it's still odysseus because you know. metis and long journeys and inability to adjust to peace after a lifetime of war and being held captive by a woman and having "no name" to hold him back and being extremely arrogant and hypocritical yadda yadda yadda. (i like the sisyphus references too, but i dont really consider five to be an ~absurd hero~, especially after s3. he clings to meaning in the apocalypse but in the face of his existence turning out to be absurd he does give up, kind of).

Hey Anon, first of all, congrats on sending in probably my favourite ask I've ever received. I was genuinely so excited to answer this that I kept it for when I would be in the mood and able to savour it, and before I knew it, a month has passed, so sorry about that, I hope you'll see this. But now I've just come off making a mythology-centred Five-gifset and my mind is buzzing, so there will never be a better time.

I once did an entire, very self-indulgent gifset about figures in Greek mythology that Five reminds me off, because to me, he thematically fits into that kind of storytelling. Very powerful, very skilled, fatally flawed, fucks around and finds out, all that jazz. The fact the writers have made a dozen mannequin jokes and yet haven't tossed in a Pygmalion reference yet is baffling to me. But I think Sisyphus and Odysseus are the only direct comparisons made in the text, and I do love them both. Me elaborating on why both of them are really neat connections under the cut.

I agree with you, I like the Odysseus one better, mostly because it's a really satisfying comparison. Yes to everything you said, the combination of wisdom and cunning, the long journey motivated by finding his way back to his family, his inability to find peace once he'd gotten them back because his time away - both the erring and the fighting - changed him, the women that keeps him, the absence of a name, the arrogance, the hypocrisy. I'd like to add the reluctance to fight paired with a high level of fighting skill, the tendency to try and talk things out first, the ability to read people well, the way people around him tend to die, the fact that his fatal flaw is pride/hubris, a character paying for his transgressions.

It's a very interesting character to compare Five to, because Odysseus is definitely one of the most nuanced and most versatile characters from Greek mythology, and I like how much the two have in common. But what I find even better is that there are a few key differences that make Five more than just a superhero take on Odysseus. There's the obvious fact that Five got reverted back into a child, and that he started his journey a lot younger, so what he longs to find his way back to is a different version of family from Odysseus. Odysseus also has a certain amount of obedience to authority, he knows how things ought to go and primarily tries to operate within boundaries set, while Five is pretty much ungovernable, he is constant to question and defy authority. Five also has time-travelling powers and technically the ability to undo everything that has gone wrong, but he just doesn't manage, he keeps overestimating himself and making things worse, which adds to his pathos. They are quite similar, but there is just enough of a spin to Five where the comparison is very much warranted but not tired. It tickles that particular part of me that loved Odysseus at age 10 when I first learnt about Greek mythology.

As for Sisyphus...I'm kind of splitting this in two, one part about the Sisyphus from the original myths and one about him as an absurd hero because Camus be Camus-ing.

Sisyphus is so known for his eternal punishment, because it is truly a wonderful image for a neverending, meaningless task, that it tends to be forgotten what he did to deserve this fate. Sisyphus was sentenced because he cheated death, not once, but twice, by finding new ways to escape it. So when Five says, "I've cheated time so much, I guess I thought I'd somehow cheat death", that hits, first of all because the writers literally forgot that Five had already cheated death by rewinding time and saving his siblings and himself from their certain demise, and secondly because that realisation of one's own mortality is part of the Sisyphus myth, in my opinion. Fun fact, in some, non-Homeric versions, Sisyphus is said to be the father of Odysseus, so being a cunning dickhead who pisses off gods is apparently a heritable trait. This tidbit about cheating death, paired with the endlessly repeating punishment, which the show alludes to via world's biggest ball of twine (Five replying "seems pretty big to me" when Klaus says that he thought it would be a lot bigger is a moment that I hold very dear) is just a good bit to compare with Five. He technically cheated death by turned time forward and bypassing the death of the entire human race, he cheated death again by turning time backwards, and he keeps living despite everything. At the same time, he chases his obligations, trying to keep the world alive, and surviving, in a seemingly endless repeating cycle. I really like the allusion to Sisyphus too, because it too is very warranted but it's not just a direct adaptation with superhero veneer.

As for Sisyphus as an absurd hero...it's been a while since I've read Camus, but the fact that Five, right after comparing his obligations to his family to a ball he keeps watching roll down a hill, asks, "and what's the point?" does suggest that the writers did mean the more meaningless side of the Sisyphus myth, likely tinged by Camus and his eternal obsession with the absurd. As far as I remember, his take on the myth is that realising and acknowledging the meaninglessness trumps the absurd and allows to reach a state of accepting serenity. I think whether Five, specifically in s3, falls into the role of an absurd hero really depends on interpretation. He doesn't in s1 and s2, because his meaningless, ever-continuing task (working to save the world from an impending apocalypse) is pursued with no acknowledgement of the underlying absurdity of trying to save the entire world that keeps changing and slipping away. In s3, there's a shift. Five gives up. Kind of. Sort of. Not really. I don't know. To be an absurd hero, he would have to acknowledge the situation and still continue his task, content with what he is doing because he is aware of its meaninglessness. A key quote from Camus that I am absolutely nicking from Wikipedia because I am not re-reading that and do in-depth literary anaylsis for a throw-away line from a silly Netflix show, is that "there is no fate that cannot be surmounted by scorn". Five talks about fate in s3. He says that fate doesn't care for whether he is ready to face whatever it has in store for him, and then again, he tells Reginald that it's time they accept their fate and let the world end. And Five gives up. He stops pursuing the task...for a time. Because he was ready to let the world go and see what, if anything, is on the other side. Until the finale, where he is back in survival mode. He's the one to find the sigil, his decision is what ends the last guardian and culminates in Reginald (and Allison) resetting the world. So, does the act of giving up keep him from being an absurd hero? Or was that uptick, working towards saving it despite everything he knew, despite knowing it can't work out well, the action of an absurd hero? I don't know. Not quite, I think, because I don't think Five has ever reached that moment of contentment at the realisation of the meaninglessness of everything he's chased for his entire life. But it is fun to think about. I'm a bigger fan of using the original myth rather than Camus' interpretation of it, because that one was very much written with the meaninglessness of labour under capitalism in mind, which is not quite something that the Umbrella Academy is dealing with, Five even less, and I like the detail about cheating death being the thing that condemns Sisyphus to his endless, meaningless, repetitive task, and Camus doesn't delve into how Sisyphus came to be stuck on that hill.

#Replies #Anonymous #my meta #this is just a lot of rambling about intertextuality. kinda. sorta.#anyway much love to you anon this was fun to ramble on about

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