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babbushka · 3 years

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A December To Remember

Lawyer!Kylo Ren x Reader

4.1k, cw: Possessive behavior; name-calling; unwanted advances from another man; NSFW (Rivals/rival relationship/enemy lovers, PIV, fingering, semi-public sex/office sex)

Available on AO3

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When the elevator doors open, Kylo has to physically brace himself. He had heard the music blasting from seven floors away, his discomfort only growing bigger and bigger as the elevator ticked up up up to Gwen’s lobby. His hands clench into fists in his leather gloves, refusing to take them off.

He wasn’t going to be here long, he promises himself as a conga line of santa hats nearly steps on his Allen-Edmonds; he just needed to show his face, have a drink, and get out. The office is all geared up for Christmas, Kylo walks through the winter wonderland of flocked trees decorated in white and gold, garland wrapped around support poles, big faux presents arranged nicely. There’s a live band and although they played well, the music is a bit much, as are the people singing along. Kylo tunes it out to the best of his ability, on a mission, a hunt.

One thing he can at least appreciate, was that this was a cocktail party, which meant everyone was dressed up nicely. Kylo loves an excuse to bring out his expensive suits, Burberry sitting nicely on his broad shoulders. No one could say he didn’t try to be festive – he had put on a black tuxedo made of soft mohair wool, that happened to have a saucy lapel of black satin for some holiday flair.

As he walks through the crowds of attorneys who Kylo has never seen laugh and smile so much in his career, someone hands him a peppermintini. It’s not long before he feels a tap on his shoulder, and he nearly spills the cocktail by whirling around, thinking that at last, he’s found you.

He has half a mind to smile, but whatever he had thought of saying goes out the window when he sees it is not you, but rather it’s his friend Gwen. She’s gorgeous in a silver slinky number that dips down her muscled back very low, and Kylo leans in to press his cheek against hers in greeting.

“Well well well, look who actually decided to show up.” Gwen nearly has to shout to be heard over the volume of the party.

He rolls his eyes at her teasing, takes a sip of the offending holiday cocktail – where the fuck could a guy get some whiskey around here?

“I was invited, wasn’t I?” Kylo replies, even though he’s not really looking at her. Gwen is probably the only person he knows who is as tall as him, and tonight she’s wearing heels which make her actually a few inches taller.

“Yes, but I’ve seen the stack of unopened invitations sitting on your desk.” She snaps her fingers in front of his face, drawing his attention back to her for the time being as she raises a platinum blonde brow, “Let’s not you and I pretend that you’re here because you want to enjoy the cheer of the holiday.”

The both of them exchange a little huff of laughter, because really she was right. Kylo is here because he had heard through the grapevine that you had RSVP’d, and there was nothing that could have prevented Kylo coming to see you if that were true.

“I’ve been informed that it is appropriate to make appearances now and again, even brief ones.” He sighs into his drink, nose crinkling at the sheer minty-ness of it.

“You can’t leave you just got here!” Gwen groans, “Stay for a little while, there’s some people who want to talk to you.”

“Whether or not I stay is contingent to one thing.” He shakes his head with a grimace, and at this Gwen’s sharp eyes sparkle with the light of knowing his secret.

“I last saw her over by the buffet.” Gwen sips her own cocktail, speaking lowly enough so that only he can hear, not like anyone is listening.

“I don’t know who you mean.” Kylo’s palms immediately begin to sweat inside his gloves, and he fixes the wall a hard stare to avoid that knowing look in her eye.

“Between you and me, I’m surprised she showed up just as much as I am that you did.” Gwen scoffs, and that at the very least was something Kylo understood.

As difficult as it was trying to pin Kylo down for something as unsavory as a Christmas party, you were notoriously hard to convince to come to anything for the holidays if you didn’t feel like it. It was one of the things that Kylo appreciated about you – not that Kylo liked you, or anything.

He shakes the thought away from his head.

“But you’re sure she’s here?” Kylo asks, an intensity to his question that has Gwen laughing.

“Yes – and do try not to make a scene.” She pats him on the back, before sauntering away to go entertain.

“What’s a Christmas party without a little scandal?” Kylo mutters to himself, trying to figure out which way the food was.

He recognizes people from six or seven different law firms as he tries to cut his way through the party. Gwen hadn’t been joking, about a dozen men in suits shake his hand and introduce themselves, congratulating him on winning his most recent case. Interns have stars in their eyes when he passes, and Kylo tries his best not to be such a grinch to their faces.

At this rate, he’s starting to get frustrated and irritated, he still hasn’t found you. The peppermintini was long finished, and he didn’t ask for a refill when he passed the bar. The entire outing was shaping up to be a waste, and Kylo is about ready to give up when he finally catches a whiff of your perfume.

“…That’s nice.” He hears your disinterested voice pipe up from a spot on the other end of the lobby where he has wandered, and Kylo lets himself be led to you, using his height to search for you in the jovial crowd.

Some schmuck is trying to herd you in the direction of where a big sprig of mistletoe has been tied under a doorframe, and the minute Kylo sees it happening, jealousy and rage simmer up straight up his spine.

“Isn’t it? I got the sonofabitch off a ten-year sentence. He was absolutely guilty but, that’s not my problem anymore.” A handsome pretty boy with perfectly straight teeth that are practically fluorescent from how white they are tries dazzling you.

“Uh huh.” You sound like you could not care less, and that for some reason only makes Kylo angrier – couldn’t this boy see that you weren’t interested?

Kylo tries to say his excuse me and his pardon mes, as he winds through the lobby on his mission to you. It’s difficult, because you won’t stay still for fucks sake, so every time Kylo thinks he’s just about gotten to you, you take a sharp turn to try and lose the boy’s unwanted attention.

“So anyway I was thinking to celebrate, maybe you can come back to mine after this shindig gets wrapped up.” He says, slipping an arm around your waist.

Kylo’s blood boils.

“Excuse me?” Your tone shifts dramatically, from uninterested to offended at his presumptions. Your body stiffens up at once, and that arm drops from your waist like he’s been electrocuted.

“I brought my own car and everything, we don’t even have to take the subway.” The boy tries to impress you, but you’re having none of it.

“I don’t think so, I have no intentions on going anywhere with you.” You shut his advances down, “Tonight, or any night.”

This angers the boy, which in turn makes Kylo see red, and he doesn’t even realize that he’s literally shoving himself in between happy couples and groups of cheerful friends to close that last bit of distance between you and him.

“Well then what the hell have you been doing this entire time, leading me on like this?” The boy reaches out to grasp harshly around your wrist when you try and make your leave, “Hey – !”

“She said no.” Kylo’s voice is dark and dangerous as he appears behind the boy, who drops your wrist at once.

“Kylo?” The sound of his name on your lips is enough to keep him from killing this boy in a blind rage, and his eyes flick to you in a very curt greeting.

“Listen to me -- and listen to me carefully.” Kylo looms over this lesser attorney, casting a shadow over the boy’s face from the sheer breadth of him, “I am going to close my eyes and count to three. If you are still here bothering this woman when I open them again, I will reach down your throat and rip your lungs out through your mouth and I will make it look like an accident. Understand?”

“Y-yes.” The boy stammers out, nearly chokes.

“Yes what?” Kylo sneers, jaw clenched.

“Yes sir!” He squeaks in terror -- Kylo doesn’t even have to close his eyes before the boy is scrambling away, and everyone around you is snickering at how he’s gone bright red in the face as he leaves the party entirely.

Now that that was taken care of, Kylo holds a hand out for you, which you take automatically. He would never admit to it, but the feeling of your palm against his has him calm almost at once.

“You have to stop doing that, you know.” You say, as Kylo leads you away from the crowded party of the lobby, and out towards the big balcony.

It’s cold outside, the past few days bringing a light dusting of snow, but you don’t seem to mind. You’ve got a fur stole wrapped around your shoulders to keep you warm. Even out here has been decorated to match the Christmas spirit, with twinkling lights covering every available surface.

“Oh but it’s so fun to watch them squirm.” He smiles, pulling you close to him as the two of you rest against the railing.

“No, not that,” You shake your head, “I mean rescuing me. I can handle myself.”

“I know you can, but again, where would be the fun in that?” Kylo only winks, and you lightly smack his arm.

You’re about to say something, when you notice that dangling above both of your heads is a bit of mistletoe, tied together with a red velvet ribbon. It spins ever so gently in the slight breeze from being so high up, and you nudge Kylo’s hand on the railing with your own.

“Look.” You whisper, and Kylo looks up too.

“Now who put that there…?” He grins smooth as ever, as he ducks his head down and kisses you.

Kissing you was rapidly becoming one of Kylo’s favorite pastimes. It was too bad you were such a fucking pain in his side most of the time, if you weren’t so stubborn and difficult, he’s sure you’d spend a lot more time kissing each other.

But then again, you are stubborn and difficult, and you have no intention of stopping. Kylo hates that about you, hates how upset it makes him. No one gets under his skin the way you do, and so he pays you back by giving you the best kiss of your life – that’ll show you.

Your mouth parts for his, eyes closed. Your breaths come out in little sighs, and Kylo feels his body reacting to it. He hasn’t been able to get a good look at you all evening, but when he does, he loves what he sees. You’re wearing a dress in a color that perfectly compliments your skin, in a shape that fits your body exactly how you like it to.

His hands grasp at your hips a little too tightly, making you nip at his lower lip with a teasing smirk.

Christmas has never been something Kylo cared remotely about, but he’s big enough to admit that the lights really do wonders for making you look like a goddamned movie star. You both pull away enough just in case someone were to look out the window or come onto the balcony and see – neither of you could really have that, it was bad enough that there were bets about you through the different firms, the last thing you needed was to let any one side win.

“It’s criminal, how good you look.” Kylo tugs on the fabric of your neckline, “Someone ought to do something about it.”

“Hmm, like what?” You play along, your hand reaching down down down and grasping a hold of Kylo’s cock, ever so briefly, giving in a squeeze.

“Bend you over and fuck you hard, just the way you deserve.” He presses his mouth against your ear, he can practically hear your heartbeat picking up.

“Too bad you scared off poor Mike,” You say with a tsk of your tongue against the roof of your mouth, “I bet he would’ve loved to do the honors.”

Mike, that was the schmucks name? Kylo had almost forgotten entirely about him, about the way he had put his hands on you without your permission. He would make a couple calls, get the kid fired.

Or demoted, at the very least.

He wasn’t sure yet.

“You want to get me mad, is that it? And here we were having such a nice time.” Kylo looks around again, makes sure no one is seeing anything that’s happening out there on the balcony as he snakes a hand up up up your thigh.

“Maybe I like it when you’re mad, maybe I know you’re going to show me a real good time.” You smirk, and Kylo is reminded why he hates you so much, you’re so spoiled, getting whatever you want whenever you want it.

“Such a fucking brat.” He snaps, hand reaching for your and tugging you back through the doors with a, “Come with me.”

Kylo is faced with the party once again and is trying to find the best way to get the fuck out of there, when you pull him in a different direction.

“No – I know a spot, this way.” You bite back a pleased grin, and Kylo has to roll his eyes, letting you lead the way.

Deep deep deep in the bowels of the office, far away from the lobby and all the festivities, the music sounds a million miles away. You’ve tugged Kylo into a conference room with big glass walls and a glass door, like a little zoo enclosure. It’s nearly pitch black, none of the lights are turned on. The only illumination is from the city outside, the ambient glow of New York beginning their celebration of Christmas. The Rockefeller tree shines brightly a few blocks down the road, a perfect view from this conference room.

Fleetingly, Kylo has half a mind to ask you to go ice skating, but then you’re hopping up on the table and spreading your legs, the skirt of your dress hiked up around your hips. You’re not wearing any panties, a pair of thigh garters holding up your stockings – and Kylo’s mind goes blank.

“Aren’t you cold?” He asks, immediately pushing you farther up the table, wanting a better view of your pussy as your thighs rub together from being so exposed.

“Yes,” You admit licking your lips, “But you’ll warm me up, won’t you?”

Kylo groans, bites off his gloves with his teeth, wastes no time in trailing his fingertips through your folds. You squirm at the touch, wanting to be filled by him, any way you could get it. He dips them deeper between your legs, nothing but the sound of your breathing filling the quiet of the room.

“Slut, god what a fucking slut you are – look at you, pussy already wet for me.” Kylo grits out between his teeth, his cock filling out in his expensive trousers, straining against his briefs.

His fingers seek the wet heat of your cunt, and he pumps them in and out slowly while he tries undoing the buckle of his belt. Your hands help him, your legs falling open farther as his fingers bury themselves in your pussy. The stretch is beautiful, and you moan, leaning back until you’re resting on the table fully.

“Are you going to talk? Or are you going to fuck me?” You challenge from your spot on the table, your hands rubbing up and down your stomach, hips lifting so he can finger you a little faster.

“Both, I can do both, fuck you’re sexy.” He huffs, unbuttons his suit jacket, shucks down his trousers and briefs enough to pull his cock out and give it a good few strokes with the hand that’s not thrusting in and out of your cunt, blunt nails dragging against your walls.

“I know.” You’re full of yourself – full of Kylo – and you moan from the thought, “Hurry up, someone could catch us.”

“No they can’t, I locked the door. It’s just you and me sweetheart – thaaaat’s it.” Kylo replaces his fingers with his cock, your folds swallowing him down, oozing and dripping slick all over your thighs.

He shoves in roughly once he’s got the head in, pushes into you in one fluid motion that has your back arching. Kylo grabs at your legs, is careful of your heels as he pins your ankles together and tucks them against his shoulder, your body pressed together as he begins to thrust in earnest.

“Yes! Fucking finally,” Your palms smear sweat on the polished wood of the conference table, and before he knows it, you’re pulling one hand up to lightly smack at his arm. “You know I’ve been waiting here for you for two fucking hours, you asshole.”

Only you could give him such an icy glare while also pushing your tits up for him to play with. Kylo reaches out to pinch hard at one of your nipples, and you whine, your thighs trembling just a little from being held up like this.

Kylo’s big fat cock stuffs you full, your pussy even tighter from having your legs pressed together like this. Normally he likes to look down and watch his dick disappear into you, but he can barely see your face as it is in the dark of the room, so he doesn’t mind. Besides, he can feel you – can feel the way you throb and pulse around him, how you flutter and clench, and it’s enough.

“If I had known – damn you’re tight – you’d be here – fuck (Y/N) – I would’ve come earlier.” Kylo latches himself to your neck, bending you nearly in half as his hips speed up, his balls smacking against your ass as he pushes you up up up the table.

“I – ah Kylo be careful,” You warn him when one of your shoes falls right off your foot and lands on the wood with a thud. He rips the other one off and throws it to the floor, leaving your legs in nothing but the stockings and garters. Your hand tangles in his hair as you press him back down to your throat, where he sucks and bites at your skin. “I don’t know why you couldn’t just fucking call me back. We – oh yes, yes harder come on – we could’ve avoided all this bullshit.”

“You’re the one who hung up on me last time!” Kylo pulls himself more upright, scowling down at you as he grabs your face, gives your jaw a little shake.

“Oh!!” Your body tenses up unexpectedly, his cock accidentally slipping out and pushing back in wrong.

Kylo fumbles just a little bit in the dark, lets your legs fall as he tries to fix the angle, tries to get himself back inside your pussy as quickly as he can. It just feels wrong to not fuck you, it feels wrong to not be joined with you as completely as possible. Even when you’re scowling at him and he’s glowering right back at you – maybe especially then.

“Relax for me?” Kylo strokes your hip with his thumb, and your body gives way for him once again, your legs wrapping around his waist as he pushes back in and continues fucking you exactly like you like it, “There we go, anyway you wouldn’t have answered me.”

“Could’ve – faster Kylo, you could’ve left a voicemail.” You hiccup, and he hates that you’re right.

He hates it as your body opens up for him, takes him, takes the fucking. You’re such a fucking princess you make him do all the work with a big smug grin on your face before he shifts his hips just right in a way that’s got your eyes rolled back into your head, mouth dropped open. He grabs your jaw again and makes out with you, wants his tongue on yours, wants your teeth scraping against his.

“Sure – fuck you, ugh fuck, I’m – ” Kylo can barely get the words out, kissing you and fucking you in the dark and quiet like this, while everyone enjoys the party just beyond the locked door of the open floor plan of cubicles.

“Me too,” You nod, desperate for him, wanting to come so badly that you twine your fingers into his hair and tug sharply, voice breathy and high and panting as you demand, “Kylo more – !”

He gives it to you, plows his cock into you so hard that he pushes the table askew, makes the chairs on their rolling wheels move all over the place from the effort of it. He bites down hard onto your neck and rubs your clit, rolls it between his fingers while his cock forces itself as deep as it can go, shallow thrusts to fill you up all the way, pushing right up against your cervix, making you yelp out your orgasm.

Feeling your cunt throb and gush for him, Kylo comes soon after, pumping himself in and out mindlessly, the both of you reveling in your pleasure. With a weak shaking hand, you tug down the sleeves of the bodice of your dress, let it fall away from your breasts. Like a moth to flame, Kylo is drawn to your cleavage, and he wastes no time pulling one of your tits out of the pretty lacy bra you’ve got on.

He sucks and kisses at your flesh as his cock pulses and spills more come into you, the both of you trying to catch your breath. He spares a glance up to you, pleased to see you’re fucked out nicely, eyes closed, lips parted and drooling just a little onto your cheek as you’ve got your face turned to one side. Kylo lets his eyes close too, mouths at your nipple until he’s sure he’s emptied himself inside of your wanting cunt.

Then, when he pulls you to sit upright on the table, instead of helping you with your clothes or even cleaning up the mess between your thighs, he stays buried inside of you and fishes his phone out from the inside of his jacket pocket.

“What are you doing?” You ask with a nosy frown, trying to lean around his big hand and see what he’s pulling up on his phone.

Kylo just kisses you quiet, dials the phone and puts it up to his ear while it rings.

“Calling the car to come pick us up and take us back to my place,” He murmurs against the corner of your mouth, before cracking the joints in his neck and grumbling, “Unless you’d rather mingle with a hundred boring nobodies like Mike instead.”

You just scrub a hand down your face with a smile, try to start fixing your hair back to something less mussed.

“I’m starving, can we pick up takeout on the way?” You stretch, wincing when Kylo finally does pull out of you, the feeling of being empty making you grimace just a bit.

He chuckles and kisses you again, lets your arms slip around his neck without any protest.

“Whatever you want.” Kylo kisses your cheek, diverting his attention to the phone call once his driver picks up.

Though the holidays had you at one another’s throats like rabid vicious dogs most days, Kylo wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world. Because for all the bitching and bickering, there were moments like these. Moments in the dark where you both let yourselves have what it was that you wanted.

And who knew, maybe the new year would bring about a whole new set of opportunities and possibilities, you’d just have to wait and see. One thing was for sure though, Kylo thinks as he helps you off the table and you both search for some tissues or something to wipe up the mess you’ve made, it certainly was a December to remember.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren/reader #kylo ren/you #kylo ren smut #kylo ren fanfiction #adam driver fanfic #adcu #my writing #modern kylo ren #lawyer au #lawyer!kylo ren

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mctherofdragons · 3 years

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In the Afterglow | 3 | F.W.

moodboard by @minty-malfoy.

Summary: The reader is married to George Weasley, and for all intents and purposes, he is the perfect husband. But, despite her best efforts to resist, Fred presents temptation she never knew she’d fall for.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Fem! Reader; George Weasley x Fem!Reader

Alternate Universe: No Voldemort AU

Rating: Mature, Future Chapters will Feature Explicit Content

Trigger Warnings: ANGST, mentions of extramarital affairs, cheating, mentions of infertility/miscarriage, mentions of sex, cussing, i think that’s it

Author’s Note: I have to give a HUGE shout out to @starlightweasley because oh my gosh, she has been my sounding board for SO many ideas for this fic and i’m so thankful for that. I hope you all love this chapter, but I will say it’s a bit of a filler. Chapter 4 will be much more in depth and have action between the reader and Fred (including fluff). Also, please note the TWs for infertility and miscarriage, which were not TWs in previous chapters. XO. PS: If your name is in bold, i couldn’t tag you.

Taglist: @oh-for-merlins-sake @sunflowernarry @vivianweasley @haf-the-trash-panda @obsssedwithjustaboutanything @msmarklee1213 @n3ssm0nique @satellitespidey @michaylahpfan27 @girl22334 @starlightweasley @minty-malfoy @theweasleytwinsgirl @louist-pics @pigwidgexn @snehkaaay @slytherinbth @laurrrtyyy

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December 25th.

The Weasleys didn’t have all the money in the world for a lavish Christmas, but somehow, it was better to celebrate in their simple way. You sat on the sofa, your legs tucked beneath you comfortably. Taking a small sip of your hot cocoa, you watched as George stoked the fireplace.

“Happy Christmas, y/n,” Molly said as she entered, opening her arms wide. You gave her a warm hug, feeling the happiness simply radiating off of her. But inside, your stomach was in knots. Last night’s kiss with Fred was still fresh in your mind. He, on the other hand, was still sleeping.

You watched as Albus played on the floor with his new toys, looking over as George sat next to you. “Maybe next year...we’ll have another little Weasley on the way?,” Molly gave you a wink and you forced a smile. George put his arm around you. It made you feel ill.

“Mum,” George sighed. “You know we’re trying.” “Ah, well, getting there is half the fun I always say,” Arthur chuckled, sitting down with his cup of coffee.

“Arthur Weasley!,” Molly gasped. Again, the room filled with laughter. You snuggled further down into the sofa, glad to be distracted by the marshmallows swirling around in your mug.

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5 years earlier, November.

Gryffindor had won again, in no small part thanks to the Weasley twins. You took off running, your robes catching the wind behind you. You were practically bolting toward the twins as fast as you could. For a moment, Fred found himself smiling, allowing his mind to think you were running toward him. His forlorn face wasn’t apparent to you as you leaped immediately into George’s arms. You practically knocked George over as he twirled you around.

He laughed, taking in the scent of your perfume. “Hi, poppet,” he laughed, setting you down.

“My favorite beater,” you giggled, giving him a playful kiss. Leaning forward, you stood up on your tippy-toes to give his nose a little kiss. His whisper met your ear and you giggled. Fred had heard it, though, and he was sure George wasn’t even trying to be quiet.

“C’mon up to my room, love,” he whispered. Then he turned to his twin. “Hey, Fred, make yourself busy for a while, eh?”

George grabbed your hand and you took off toward Gryffindor tower, your stomach bursting with excitement for some alone time with George. Fred felt his stomach sink, jealousy brewing somewhere deep within him. He threw his broom down, eliciting a shocked look from the keeper next to him.

____________________________

Fred came down the stairs eventually. His red hair was tousled and you couldn’t help but bite your lip. You caught yourself quickly, snuggling in closer to George.

“Mornin, all. Happy Christmas, mum,” Fred gave Molly a little kiss on the forehead, heading over to pour himself a cup of coffee.

“Well now that Fred has decided to arise from his slumber, we should get around to opening the rest of our presents, yes?” Ginny seemed annoyed with her brother, but that was not too unusual.

Fred sat down on the floor, busying himself with sipping his coffee. Neither of you dared to look at one another. It occurred to you that maybe last night had been a dream, but then you felt the tiny rug burn on your lower back and knew it was real. Your sweater had lifted up while on the carpet with Fred, giving you a small scrape.

Everyone busied themselves with opening their presents. Molly practically cried over every gift her children got her, including a framed photo of everyone from last Christmas. Meanwhile, George and Fred had gotten each other expensive bottles of whiskey, nearly dying in laughter that they both got the same thing for one another.

Finally, George handed you a small black box and your heart fluttered. “For you, princess,” he grinned, giving you a small kiss. Something behind his eyes still felt distant, but you pushed your doubts away. You opened it up slowly, revealing a stunning vintage locket. It was eighteen karat gold and engraved with floral detail. It was no doubt madly expensive. It was stunning, the lights from the Christmas tree glinting off of its surface. You clicked the locket open, feeling yourself tear up at a picture of you both from your school days.

“Oh,” you put your hand over your heart. George took the necklace from you and turned you around, fastening the clasp for you. Once he was back in front of you, he pulled him into a kiss. “I love it, George.”

“Again, happy Christmas, love,” he gave your hand a squeeze. But you found yourself reaching up to touch the cold medal around your neck, secretly wishing a photo of Fred was inside.

You looked up and caught eyes with the other twin. You stared for a moment, his brown eyes burrowing deep into yours. Fred broke his gaze. “I need a moment,” he mumbled, quickly rushing outside.

“What’s got his goat?,” Ron said, stuffing a cookie into his mouth. Everyone shrugged, except for you. You felt your heart crack just a bit as you looked at the door which had just swung shut.

“I’ll go check on him,” you offered. No one suspected anything, of course. You were always kind to Fred. Each member of the family had assumed Fred was just stressed about the shop, as was usual, and needed some calming down.

You headed out the back door, rounding the corner behind the Burrow. Fred was leaned against the small shed out back, tears streaming down his face. He saw you and buried his face into one of his hands, his other arm pulled across his abdomen.

“Go back inside, y/n,” he sighed, using the sleeve of his sweater to wipe his eyes.

You dared to step forward, moving his hand away. “Fred.”

“Please, go back inside,” he gently moved you away from him.

But you pushed your luck again, stepping forward. He spun you around, kissing you with your back pressed against the cool wood of the shack. “Go back inside,” he repeated, the clouds of his breath floating up into the freezing air. A few tears remained on his cheeks, but they’d know somewhat rubbed off onto your cheeks. The winter breeze stung as it met the dampness. You kissed him again, and nothing about it was soft. When you and Fred kissed, it was as if you’d completely devour one another given the chance. Close was never close enough. He cupped your face in his hands, his forehead pressed tight to yours, your noses touching. “Go. Inside,” Fred repeated finally, and you slipped beneath his arms to head back toward the door.

“You’d best come in before they start to worry,” you said quietly, thankful you had decided against wearing lipstick that day.

*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･

December 28th.

George sat across from Fred, counting that day’s deposit. Fred had poured them both glasses of the whiskey from Christmas. This was something they occasionally enjoyed, basking in the happiness of just being brothers together. Usually, they talked about nothing in particular. World quidditch scores, or the latest movie they’d watched. But today, George seemed tenser. Fred hadn’t admitted it out loud, but he was partially nervous that George had suspected something.

Fred tipped the bottle to top off his glass, taking a strong sip as George placed the deposit into the lockbox. He took his own swig, setting down his glass as he looked at his twin.

“She’s driving me bloody mad, Fred,” he said finally, shaking his head. Fred raised an eyebrow, realizing George was about to start ranting about you.

“Is that right?,” Fred adjusted his shirt a bit, undoing the top button. He was already nervous for what was to come, knowing any ill word against you would make his anger spark.

“I mean, fuck, we’ve been trying for months now to get pregnant and she can’t. I know it isn’t her fault but, hell, it sucks, you know?”

“Oh, yeah,” Fred said quietly, swirling his ice cubes around in his drink as he moved his glass.

“And don’t even get me started on her being piss poor in bed, lately, neither,” George slammed back what was left of his whisky. He filled up his glass halfway again.

Fred felt his blood pressure hit the ceiling as if someone had set a Whiz Bang off in his brain.

“Ya know, I haven’t told anyone this, but she did get pregnant, a few months ago.” “How do you mean?” “Well, you know it….came away,” George frowned, feeling his throat get tight. “I just, ever since then, Fred. She doesn’t want to try anymore. I...I hate to admit this but, I’ve been...feeling less in love with her lately.”

Fred stayed quiet, unable to form a coherent sentence that wouldn’t give himself away. You were perfect to him, and imagining you curled up on a bathroom floor, experiencing profound loss, broke his spirit.

“It’ll all work out,” Fred gave George a friendly pat on the back. “C’mon, lets go down to the pub for a few with the boys, eh?” “Sure.”

Fred left the conversation there, forbidding himself to venture any further. Two can keep a secret, but he tended to be rubbish at it.

He felt his phone buzz and he pulled it out of his pocket, smiling down at the screen. Your name had popped up with a short text message.

Miss you. Meet tonight someplace?

#fred weasley x reader #fred weasley #weasley twins #fred weasley x you #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley x fem!reader

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anjuschiffer · 3 years

Text

Magical Date

I wasn’t going to write anything for Daminette December, and yet! Here I am! While thinking of a concept for Day 5, I then remembered that there were people who wanted a follow up for Spellbound, so I combined the two!

Enjoy!

For @daminette-december2019-2020‘s Day 5: Sweater

Tag: @theatreandcomicfreak @damianette-is-life @toodaloo-kangaroo @elijahcrevan @vixen-uchiha @nathleigh

AO3 | Wattpad

Marinette stood by the Leyline Terminal, muttering to herself as she did a mental checklist.

ID? Check.

Purse? Check.

Phone? Check.

Sketchbook and pencils? Check.

Wand? Check.

Extra batteries? Check.

Hat?....

“How did I forget my hat?” Marinette whined, scanning her room for it but knew there was no use in looking for it when she couldn’t find it.

It was almost time to meet with Damian, so if she wanted to meet him in time, she’d just have to go without it.

Grabbing her purse, Marinette took off.

She yelled and apologized to friends she almost bumped into, ignoring their questions of ‘where are you heading?’ She slowed down and speed walked when she saw teachers and the headmistress, flashing an awkward smile as she waved at her.

Running past the campus’ quad, Marinette managed to get to the Leyline Terminal on time, wanting to collapse to the floor as soon as she got there.

“Worried you were going to be late for our date?” Damian teased.

“Well, I wouldn’t- Damian!” Marinette squeaked, feeling the tips of her ears glow with heat. “Ha-how long have you been-”

“Not long.” Damian replied, standing in front of her. “Are you ready to head out?” Grinning, Marinette nodded.

“Yup!”

She followed Damian, confused when he suddenly stopped. “What’s wrong?” She asked, peering over his shoulder, wondering why he was hesitant to walk into the empty-

Empty?

“The car that dropped me off...is gone.” Damian huffed, not believing that Dick actually meant what he said earlier. He really did mean it when he said that Damian should use his own efforts to make their outing a success.

“Gone? So, they-”

“Left? Yes.” Damian sighed, taking out his phone to text his father only for Marinette to place her hand over his. He looked up. “What’s wrong?”

“We can still get to the other side without your car.”

“How?” Damian asked, wondering how exactly did she think they would get to the other side of the magical barrier without-

He watched as she whipped out her wand, a broad smile across her face. “Right. Magic.”

“Make sure to not move around too much. We might fall and get lost in the Leyline if you do.” Marinette warned, looking at her wand and then at him. “Would you like to try casting the spell?”

Damian looked at the wand she was offering him and received it. “How does the spell go?”

Smiling, Marinette placed her hands over his, adjusting his posture before letting go.

“First, you have to close your eyes.” He did. “Now, repeat after me. Tia Freye!”

“Tia Freye!” Damian recited, opening his eyes when he felt himself being lifted off the floor, watching as a magic circle lifted them to the ceiling above them, watching as it bursted open, green speckles of stardust falling past them.

Awestruck, Damian watched as they made their way into the Leyline, not being able to take his eyes off the minty scenery around them.

“Do you have a place of mind? Or would you like to go to the default station in England?”

Damian looked at Marinette, her hair- were in a pair of twin braids...it suited her just like her pigtails.

“The Leyline can take us anywhere?” Damian asked. She nodded. “Anywhere? Even if I haven’t been there in a while?” Marinette nodded again.

“You just have to concentrate on the place in mind while we exit the Leyline. With the place in mind, the Leyline will lead you to the closest terminal in that country.”

“I see.” Damian said, concentrating on the place he had in mind. “Hope you don’t mind some cave exploring.”

They ended up in New Zealand, Marinette taken back by the time difference. It was already late at night, but that didn’t deter Damian from taking her out as he had promised her.

After a few minutes, Damian had managed to buy some food and a blanket before guiding Marinette to their next destination...which happened to be at the other side of a dark forest.

“Trust me,” was all Damian said once they stepped foot, Marinette following him,

Marinette could feel herself shiver as the two wandered through the dark greenery, Marinette having to double check each step she took, envying Damian.

Aside from having a cozy sweater to keep him warm, he walked through the forest with such confidence, he didn’t have to look where to step. He just walked.

“Damian, where exactly are we?”

“If I tell you know, it will ruin the surprise.” He blatantly said. “Be careful around here. There are some rather steep-“

Just as he said that, he jinxed her.

Marinette let out a yelp as she was about to fall to the lower level of the hill when Damian grabbed her just in time.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” He lifted her up, glad to see no visible injuries. “Are you alright?”

“If anything, just shocked.”

“I should’ve been guiding you more properly than just telling you to follow me.” Damian offered his hand, Marinette taking it. “If only we had more-“

“Light!” Marinette exclaimed, causing Damian to jump a bit. “We can use my wand to-“

“I thought using magic outside of Luna Nova was against the rules.” Damian watched as Marinette nervously laughed, putting back her wand into her purse.

“Well, using our wands outside of campus is against the rules. They never said anything about communicating with the sprites already there.”

Damian watched Marinette grin as she crouched to the ground.

“What are you-“

Marinette held a finger to her lips before she began to sing.

As she continued to sing, Damian became mesmerized by the glowing bud that sprouted out from the ground, opening up to show a tiny forest sprite that hummed in sync with Marinette’s lovely singing.

When the sprite stopped humming, so did Marinette.

“Hello. My name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I was wondering if you would be so generous as to help light up the forest a bit while we get to our destination. Of course, I would reward you with these.”

Damian watched as the tiny forest sprite eagerly twirled around when Marinette showed it some crystal daisies in her hands.

The sprite eagerly accepted the gift, giving Marinette a smile before disappearing and reappearing with more of its kind. “Thank you very much!” Marinette dropped some more crystal flowers for the sprites before getting up and joining Damian’s side.

“How-“

“I learned how to speak and invoke sprites when I was three. My grandmother taught me during her summer stays. It’s the only form of magic that came naturally to me.”

Damian hummed. “So, shall we continue our exploration?”

At those words, Damian nodded, once more offering his hand to her, which she accepted.

With the help of the forest sprites, Damian was finally able to reach the cave entrance he had been wanting to show Marinette.

“Marinette, do they only like those crystal flowers you gave them?” Damian asked as he turned to see the second to last sprite disappear.

“Hmmm. They like the crystal daisies because it’s actually crystallized mana that they can consume. Once consumed, the mana allows them to produce more of their magic. However, they do like gemstones as well. It’s like some type of currency within the sprite world.”

Marinette watched Damian hum, retrieving something in his pocket and crouched to the last forest spirit’s level.

She watched with wide eyes as he handed a ruby to the spirit, who also gasped at the gift.

“Thank you for your help. We really appreciate it.”

Damian watched as the spirit hugged his hand before disappearing, a smile on their face as it snuggled closely to the newly acquired gem.

“That was kind of you.” Marinette said with a smile, giving Damian’s hand a squeeze.

“It was the correct thing to do.” Damian said, gesturing to Marinette to follow him.

The two kept walking into the dark cave when Marinette began to see tiny glowing blue lights start to appear more and more above them.

Soon, they found themselves surrounded by these sparkling blue stars, Marinette taken away by the scenery. It was like looking at a clear starry night.

As they kept going further into the cave, Marinette didn’t realize Damian had casted another “tia freye” causing the two to drift through the rest of the cave.

Marinette stretches out her hand to try and reach for them, but she was pleased to know she couldn’t.

“It’s beautiful.” She found herself softly whispering.

“And so are you.” Damian replies, Marinette thanking the tiny stars that their light was dim enough to hide her blush.

But even though her blush was hidden, she knew her feelings were still there for him to see.

“To think something this beautiful is being hidden from the world.”

“My mother brought me here once. When I was very young.” Damian told her. “Waitomo Caves. Home to the bioluminescent creature, Arachnocampa Luminosa.”

“Bioluminescent glow worms.” Marinette said back, watching as they were nearing the end of the cave.

“But that’s not why I brought you here.” Damian confessed, Marinette wondering what exactly could best the fantasy world they were just in. “Close your eyes.”

She did.

She felt as the two were now on dry land, or rather, grass.

She felt as a nice breeze blew across her face, her body trembling. She guessed Damian must have seen it as she felt him drape something over her, his scent on the sweater causing her to blush.

“Are we almost there?”

“Almost.” Damian told her, Marinette continuing to follow him.

She felt as he let go of her hand and walked around her, Marinette hearing what seemed to be rocks moving and a curse here and there, causing her to giggle.

When he slipped his hand back into hers, Marinette followed his lead. “Open your eyes.”

Marinette felt out of breath when she opened them, wishing to forever remain in that ethereal moment. For time to stop so that she could take in the beauty that was in front of her.

“Mon Dieu. It’s gorgeous.” Marinette, taking slow steps as she kept adoring the night sky above them. “I never thought I would ever be able to see the Milky Way in anything other than a textbook, tapestries or the holographic form we use in astronomy class.

They look so- oh! Damian! Look over there! That’s Crux!” Marinette squealed, taking out her phone and taking a picture of it. She then took out her sketchbook and quickly began to draw it, a few notes being taken at the side.

“Crux?” Damian asked, taking a seat on the makeshift picnic area he made for the two of them. He watched as Marinette kept staring at the stars above them, the Milky Way perfectly reflected against her bluebell eyes.

“Crux, often called the Southern Cross. Because Crux hasn’t been able to go over the horizon since 400 BC, northern countries like England, aren’t able to see it anymore.” Marinette pulled Damian’s sweater closer to her body. “To think I’m seeing it for the first time like this…” She turned to Damian, a shooting star passing behind her. “Thank you.

Thank you for bringing me here.”

“Seems like we’re here.” Marinette said, Damian picking up on the tint of sadness underlaid in her words.

By the time Damian and Marinette got back to Luna Nova, it had become evening, 17:00 to be exact.

During their flight back, Damian watched as Marinette longed to remain under those stars, staring at the sky above them the entire trip, as if hoping it would’ve followed her back.

Waitomo Caves and the scenery of the Milky Way on that mountain could never be replicated here at Luna Nova. Even if it was recently rejuvenated with the plethora of magic, no magic could do nature’s lovely masterpieces’ true justice.

“You seem...down.” Damian obviously pointed out, not expecting Marinette to laugh at his observation.

“I guess...I kinda wished we could’ve stayed there for a bit longer.” Marinette confessed, playing with the ends of her braids, only then realizing she still had on his sweater.

She completely forgot she had it on thanks to how soft it was despite being a bit big and long it was on her. “Oh! Here! Thank you for lend-”

“Keep it.” Damian said, stopping her from taking it off, gently holding her wrist in his hand.

“But-”

“Keep it.”

“Damian, it’s y-”

“I could simply buy another one just like it.” Damian fought back, watching Marinette pout, causing him to chuckle. “Keep it. I don’t mind you being its new owner.”

He watched as Marinette huffed in defeat, pulling the sweater closer to her small frame.

Would she look just as good in anything that was his?

“I know I said this before, but thank you,” Marinette said, placing her hand on his shoulder, using it to lift herself off the ground to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “For everything.”

Damian remained still as he watched her wave goodbye, walking into the dorm that was her home at Luna Nova.

Covering the smile that arose to his face, Damian could feel the glee swelling inside him as he made his way back home.

Marinette couldn’t believe it. She actually kissed him! Sure, it was on the check, but it was still something.

Not being able to contain it any longer, she let out a squeal, now dancing towards her room.

With a hum, Marinette opened up her room and slipped inside, letting out a giggle as she pulled Damian’s sweater close to her face.

“Seems like someone’s date was a success.” A voice spoke, causing Marinette to yelp, feeling her entire face burn in embarrassment.

Turning to her left, oh how she wanted to transform into a mouse to escape the hunter in front of her. Sadly, she used up all her extra batteries on the date.

“A-Alya. Shouldn’t you be-”

“-in detention? Well, let’s just say the added detention is going to be sooo worth it. So come on! Tell me! How’d your date go? And don’t tell me it wasn’t one when he clearly gave you that bracelet on your wrist. We’ve been living together for quite a while -even go shopping with you- and I’ve never seen that bracelet until now.”

Marinette snapped her attention to the newly acquired bracelet, a double black leather bracelet with a single ladybug at its center.

When did he slip it onto her? “So? Spill!”

“Well,” Marinette started. “It was magical!”

#maribat #daminette #Daminette December 2020 #anju writes

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sevlgi · 3 years

Note

can you please make one (from the christmas prompts) for red velvet seulgi with 29 and 31? i love your writing! thank you 💞

christmas blurbs!

PROMPTS: 29. “Excuse me-- where is my Christmas kiss?” + 31. “It’s snowing!”

NOTES: absolutely

WORD COUNT: 417

Winters in Seoul were positively magical.

From the narrow balcony of your apartment, all you could see was soft flurries of snow and frosted glass panes. The place wasn’t big, but it gave you the best view, especially when it came to the first snow of December.

Seulgi had been the one to insist that seeing a snowy city would be beautiful, and you had to silently thank her as you wrapped your jacket tighter around your body. Or maybe, as you felt someone wrap their arms around your waist, not so silently.

“Hey,” the brunette sighed softly, shivering slightly against your back. “It’s snowing.”

“Yeah. You were right that it’s absolutely gorgeous from all the way up here,” you admitted and placed your hands over Seulgi’s for warmth. From what you could see, her arms were bare, her pyjamas probably short-sleeved, and there were goosebumps raising on the pale exposed skin. “You should put on something warmer, though.”

“You’re my heater,” she grinned, moving from where she had pressed her face into your back. You scowled playfully, pushing her forehead away as she whined. “Aish, Y/N, let me be cheesy for once. It’s the first snow of the month, and we’re heading into Christmas season.”

You dragged your girlfriend away from the window to pour out a warm drink for her, the icy breeze of your kitchen making the tip of your nose numb. “Right. Since it is Christmas, by the way, where is my Christmas kiss?”

Seulgi’s hands then moved to your hips, spinning you around so that your nose brushed against hers. “Hi,” she smiled. As always, she was no less beautiful bare-faced as she was in her photoshoots, her eyelashes brushing onto the tops of her cheeks. “You wanted a Christmas kiss?”

After just waking up, Seulgi’s lips were minty as they moved slightly against yours, though the taste was easily bearable for the feeling of the dancer pinning you against the kitchen counters. “Whoa,” you laughed when you pulled back. “Christmas kiss, not a Christmas makeout. Let’s save that for after breakfast.”

She pouted but retreated to the bedroom anyway. “Fine. You have to make breakfast, though, in return for spoiling my fun.”

The sound of the stove turning on was response enough, and you sighed as you felt the warmth on your hands contrast the lingering mint in your mouth. It wasn’t even Christmas morning, and yet, you felt like there was nothing more you could ask out of the year.

#red velvet #red velvet x reader #red velvet imagines #red velvet scenarios #red velvet reactions #red velvet seulgi #red velvet kang seulgi #seulgi #kang seulgi #merle's christmas #seulgi x reader #seulgi imagines #seulgi scenarios

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dissident-vedder · 3 years

Text

- breaking the girl ( 𝐀. 𝐊. )

ADD YOURSELF TO MY TAGLIST!

the first and last time they kissed.

INSPIRATIONS - breaking the girl by rhcp and @fanficy-prompts

THIS FIC CONTAINS death (SUICIDE), swearing, sadness/depression.

A/N - layout by @adoresobs!

keeping your head down, the rain beat down on the red raincoat you slipped on that morning, the usually sunny l.a. sky now a dark gray, a cool breeze brushing against your crimson cheeks. your school things were most likely getting wet, but at some point, you stopped caring, much like many other things you once cherished, which now seemed bleak in your reddened eyes. everything was covered in a constant cover of gray, your optimistic outlook on life now turning into those of your mother’s. why hadn’t you said yes to going to jessica’s? why were you the one to find your mother face down in a pool of her own blood? why did she have to take her own life in such a horrendous way? why hadn’t you noticed before?

you shoulders hung with the weight of your guilt despite your family and multiple psychiatrists telling you that you had done nothing wrong. they told you your mother was at fault for not telling you, for not getting the help she needed and deserved, for leaving you behind to live with your grandmother. how you hated to look into your grandmother’s eyes since the day it happened. she tried to be strong for you, you could tell, but once you looked at her, she burst into tears. every time she looked at you, she saw her daughter. your mother’s eyes were your own, and each day she saw the life be sucked out of them much like she saw within your mother’s. she was afraid of losing you too, making appointments with a therapist in order for you to talk about your thoughts, your feelings, but each time, you just brought over a drawing. one that was done in simple India Ink, the graphite of a pencil not dark enough to show your true emotions. you refused to talk, afraid that if you opened your mouth, you would talk about everything and would never shut up.

the more drawings you gave, the more and more the therapist noticed how darker and more obscene they got.

your world was dead.

you envied your aunts, uncles, and cousins for still having their mom, hated the way that your school friends would talk about their parents, how they father gave them this and how their mother gave them that. after christmas break, everyone began talking animatedly about what they received for christmas, whether it was money, a new rotary telephone (one girl got a canary yellow one, just like she wanted), or new clothes. one of your classmates turned to you, “what did your parents give you for christmas?”

how were you going to tell them that your mother committed suicide and your father was an alcoholic who walked out of your life years ago? you just laid your head on your arms, wanting the teacher to begin the lesson so you didn’t have to bear the embarrassment of people bugging you about the presents. yes, you did get presents from your family in order to get your mind of your mom, but it was sort of alright until one of your aunts gave you a perfume bottle, and upon closer inspection, you noticed that it was your mother’s signature scent.

you had run to your room, tears leaving wet tracks on your cheeks, sobs racking through your body as thoughts of your mom brought back painful pangs in your chest, your heart beating wildly against your ribcage. a copy of maya angelou’s i know why the caged bird sings sat on your night table, driving you insane at the orange cover, the black bird in mid-flight. picking it up, you chucked it at the wall, the bookmark flying out from its designated spot. the caged bird doesn’t sing, you thought. the caged bird dies.

for years this continued, the book still on the exact spot it had landed when you threw it, collecting dust as your room stayed in pristine condition. if it weren’t for your family coming over to help you, it would be a pigsty by now. somehow, however, you were able to control your emotions a little better, making the days seem a little easier and more bearable to go through, and the thoughts of your mother’s dead body were pushed to the back of your mind.

in your sophomore year of high school, you had met anthony, a charismatic senior with a crooked smile and a trick up his sleeve. on days where you were not able to control your emotions as well, he held you, letting you cry into the crevice where his shoulder and neck meet, his hands cradling your head and rubbing your back. he managed to make you talk after years of being known as the mute, his little jokes and twisted tales able to rise a small out of your once glued lips. something about him made you feel warm inside. people always said that the person you loved the most will make butterflies come alive in your belly, but you realized that wasn’t the truth for you. every time you thought about or spoke to anthony, your heart swelled even more, leaving you with a euphoric feeling as you held on to either him or the sweatshirt he gave you on an unusually cold day. perhaps it was his nonchalant demeanor or his cocky attitude, or even the musky, vanilla smell that was characteristically him, but every part of you fell in love with him and his existence. he was an angel come to life.

it was his graduation day when he first kissed you. once caps were thrown and pictures were taken, he ran up to you, grabbed your cheeks, and planted his lips on yours. his lips were so soft, in contrast to the muscular body he hid beneath the button-up shirt he wore, you melted into his arms, pressing yourself against him, grabbing on to the lapels of his shirt. you had waited for this day for what? three weeks? six months? a year? no matter how long, you felt all your nerves release as he pulled away, staring at you with such love and adoration, it looked like he was staring at a goddess come to life.

your breaths mingled, brushing softly over the soft skin of your lips, minty as you brought him back in, deprived of something you longed for for a while. this was a seal of your relationship. at some point, you began to wonder if you were just another one of anthony’s playthings, ready to be thrown out the second he got bored of you.

the sun shone brightly on the two of you, a moment of celebration only you two could see.

it was a december when he broke up with you. it was in the year of what? 1995? '96? you didn’t remember, and didn’t want to remember, as your heart continued to break as those last moments replayed in your head like a broken record.

you had been there for him through everything.

when the band was first formed, their first record, their first live national tv performance, hillel’s death, anthony’s sobriety. everything. yet he deemed you no longer important in his life as he broke your heart. somehow, despite your tear-streaked face, he continued to say that he no longer loved you, that he had fallen in love with another. he had kissed you one last time that day. held you close, hands on your cheeks, warming them even more, and you could feel it. there was no more passion left. it seemed like to him, you were an obligation, a setback in life. no longer did his heart beat for you. how could he have fallen in love with another when you had given him everything you had? your virginity, your heart, your mind, your love.

he just took it for himself and now. . . you were being thrown to the streets. god, you didn’t go to college, had no job, no money of your own, purely depending on him, and he gladly supported you through the years, giving you an allowance basically. you had to move in with your grandmother again as you took up classes at the local community college in cyber. . . something. again, you stopped caring about the world. what had you done in order for him to fall out of love with you? you were supportive of his decision, supportive of him when he was going through withdrawal symptoms when he stopped taking drugs, there by his side again when he relapsed, warning him of the consequences and reminding him of his hard work years prior.

laying down on the bed, you took a deep breath as your hand was placed over your heart, imagining the broken pieces still trying to keep you alive. with anthony, the once gray world turned bright again, optimism making every day more bearable until you no longer had to bear it.

underneath you sat the sheets that anthony once slept under, holding you close to his body as the two of you had your usual late-night talks, talking about the future, about one day marrying each other, having children, grandchildren, and growing old together. now, these sheets held tears and broken promises whispered long ago, long when you were still young and a new optimistic.

i know why the caged bird sings stares at you from the floor.

the caged bird does not sing. the caged bird dies.

TAGLIST:

@stateofloveandvedder @state-of-love-and-lust @honeysympathy @grossgold @sea-sxns @d-arknecessities @sideways-falling

#anthony kiedis #anthony kiedis x reader #anthony kiedis imagine #imagine anthony kiedis #fairfax high school!anthony kiedis #1980s!anthony kiedis #1990s!anthony kiedis #rhcp #Red Hot Chili Peppers

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zombiiesque · 3 years

Text

Nocturne Alchemy Summer Limited Reviews

Originally published on 7/2/2019

Yikes. So I never finished my Vaults, did I? Well, I'll have to come back to it! Right now, I have a few reviews I wanted to get posted from the Nocturne Alchemy Summer Limited Collection release. I'm also including a brief review of the PC Eternal Egypt, for reference purposes! I chose three perfumes, and they sent me one of their choice because I won a giveaway on their business FB page. So what I have here, in the picture, is Eternal Egypt Summer, Eternal Egypt Ambre, Chamomile, Vanilla & Spice Tea, and Apricot Sugar. The sample is Kashmir, which is the free sample while available, that they send along with orders. Any of you who have been following me for a while know that Kashmir is one of my favorites! Let's hop right to it, shall we?

First off, I want to talk about one of my desert island scents - Eternal Egypt. I'll be brief, but I think it's helpful for comparison to the two special versions I picked from the Summer LC. The NA site has this description: Eternal Egypt (Signature Blend): White Amber, Red Egyptian Musk, Egyptian Amber and the sands of Egypt.

I started off with a sample of this many moons ago, and at first I was a little leery - I had ridiculously bad luck wearing ambers. Smelled like baby powder on my skin. I think I wound up putting the sample in my box for about six months, and one day I dug it out and waved it in front of Jody's nose. Win. He was instantly a fan, and he remains one to this day - it's one of his favorites on me and he can name it when I wear it. I think it's the only one he knows, even though he has others he loves, too. It truly is a signature scent. I graduated from the sample, to a 5ml, and now I have a 10ml I'm flying through. The white amber gives this almost a coconut vibe? This is very bright and fresh, and that sandy note, I don't know how they do it, but this is just such a classy scent. It feels like a high end perfume, but at the same time, it's very easy to wear. I must say this is pretty perfect to represent Egypt - when I wear it, I am transported. I feel like the red musk gives this just the slightest bit of sexiness. If you've tried Crimson, I think that's the red musk here, or something similar, as it's not the bold red musk style of Kashmir. It's clean and a little spicy, and very appealing. The combination of the musk and amber is just totally perfect.

I've added a picture of Eternal Egypt Summer and Eternal Egypt Ambre side by side, so you can see the height difference. Ambre isn't as big as my 10ml original EE, but it's definitely larger than the standard 5ml.

One thing I want to mention, about a lot of Nocturne Alchemy perfumes, and particularly Eternal Egypt: these do get travel shocked. So a little caution note, a little imploring: Please do not judge these by what they smell like when you first get them - and please, please try them on your skin before you dismiss them. They change quite a lot with some rest, and what you smell in the bottle can be very different once it melds with your skin and warms up. Eternal Egypt variations in particular seem to do a lot of "filling out" with age; they get richer, more beautiful - the notes seem to meld and really reach their full potential with a little time in your possession. So my initial reviews will stand, but it's like they're amplified TL;DR? Give these some time. It's summer, it's hot, they've traveled a distance to get to you.

Eternal Egypt Summer is part of the sub-collection Eternal Summer. Notes are: White Amber, Labdanum, Crystalline, a little eNVie saphir Amber, Copal, Guaiac wood, Lavender, NA Chypre accord. I opened this fresh out of the mail (not advised, ever, I have to say, but I have no self-restraint) and I swooned a little. This is pretty different than the original. It's got a cool feel to it. I gave it a few days to rest before I tried it on my skin, but I could kind of tell right away I was going to love this. Converse to the cool feel, there's a warmth here from the copal, a sweetness from the guaiac. The lavender isn't a star, but I think rather blends with the chypre, which is absolutely lovely. I usually like chypres, and this is no exception. You can definitely tell that there's an essence of Eternal Egypt to this, but if you're worried you might be getting a dupe, you're definitely not. How does this make me feel? Like I'm at the beach. It's a perfect, sunny day, the water is a sparkling turquoise, and there's a cool sea breeze on my sun-warmed skin. Yes, this feels like summer to me.

Eternal Egypt Ambre is a part of the 13th anniversary collection. NA says this: Eternal Egypt Anniversary Collection – a reinterpretation with exclusive notes, beautiful blue pearl bottles but most importantly celebrating thirteen years of the original perfume blend from Nocturne Alchemy in four new iterations and limited to 75 bottles each. From the elegant label art to the carefully chosen bottle and the exquisite ingredients, the owner & creator of Nocturne Alchemy (Emerson Hart) wanted the create something to honour the first perfume created at Nocturne Alchemy thirteen years ago. Aging these perfume will bring out the resins and natural notes.

The notes for Eternal Egypt Ambre are: Bastet’s Amber Absolute, Labdanum, Cedar essential, Palo Santo essential, Black Patchouli, Benzoin, Heliotrope, Smoked Balsam of Peru, Italian Lavandin, Black Pepper and White Amber Absolute. Oooof. Well, y'all already know how much I adore Bastet Amber, and here we have my two desert island scents? Okay, that was an obvious gimme. This, too, is pretty obviously different from the original Eternal Egypt. The bottle is GORGEOUS, as is the label! When I first got this, it was far more travel shocked than Eternal Egypt Summer. I couldn't really tell what was going on, and there was almost a black licorice note in the bottle sniff. What? Turns out, that's the palo santo note. It can smell like anise, or minty...but I gave this a good bit of rest before I tried it on my skin. Four days. The anise had calmed down, and I could get an idea of what this was going to be like on my skin, I thought - except, it was so much better than I could have imagined! It absolutely transformed once it warmed up and melded with my skin. Wow. This is more complex, and sexier, than Summer. I'm having a hard time picking out individual notes, that's how well blended this one is. If Summer is bright and fun, a day at the beach - Ambre is a sultry summer night, a slinky black dress, and low slung heels. The palo santo gives this a cool feel, as does the white amber.

Honestly just so glad I chose both of these, I have several variations of Eternal Egypt, because I love it that much, and these are two wonderful additions to my collection. Backup worthy, really.

One of my favorite things Nocturne Alchemy does for their Summer Collections are the Summer Tea and Tea Service. You can read my reviews here, although I've added more that I haven't reviewed from previous collections. The Summer Tea Service reviews are separate, you can find them here. Y'all, it's hot in Florida. And it's hot from April right through December these days. I find myself craving the Summer Teas as soon as it warms up, so they get a lot of wear from me. Green Tea Crimson is easily in my top five all time favorites, ever.

Last year I missed out, but my good friend Heather grabbed Apricot Sugar, and absolutely adored it. So I promised myself if it came back in the Resurgence, I would for sure have to nab it - it seemed like everything she wore it with was perfect, and of course, it was wearable alone. So I chose that for my third bottle, and as I mentioned, I won a giveaway (thanks, y'all, SO much!) on the Nocturne Alchemy business page, for a free bottle of their choice from the LCs. They chose Chamomile, Vanilla & Spice Tea for me. I had already eyed it, because it sounded delightful. The notes for this are: Blue German Chamomile, Bastet’s Ice Cream Accord, Vanilla Bean, Vanilla essence, Black Tea, Cardamom Spice and a little sugar. I love chamomile tea. I have one that's chamomile and vanilla, and it's so soothing, puts me right to sleep! And Jody's mom grows chamomile. This is very realistic. I guess this could possibly go a little floral, but they are such masters at blending, that never happens here. It's got a bit of a floral/herbal tinge to it, for sure, but it's reigned in beautifully by the vanillas. The cardamom is more of a supporting note on my skin, just a slightly spiced warmth, honestly, it's perfection. The balance here is superb. The black tea is something I utterly love, and it adds a little strength to this. Unfh. I've mentioned before, I didn't use to like tea notes, they would go bitter on my skin, but that's never happened with NA, and this is no exception. This is just so appealing! I could not be happier with what they chose for me, I adore it. The ice cream accord adds a tiny bit of foodiness, and it's at the perfect amount. Yum. Obviously, you can easily wear this alone, but I love to layer my Summer Teas with the Tea Service, it just is the perfect compliment. The first time I wore this, I added a little dab of Apricot Sugar, because that's what I had on hand, and it was delightful! I wasn't sure if it was going to wear well with this one, but I have to say if you have both of these you really should try this, it was a wonderful surprise. I've since tried Rice Milk and Sugarcube, and those are both easy winners, too. I haven't tried Sweet Santalum Milk or Coconut Milk, but I suspect those will work well, too - or even my original Bastet's Ice Cream Accord, if you want your tea to be a little creamier/more foodie.

Apricot Sugar: Apricot stone essence, Apricot Skin, Egyptian Sugar accord, Papaya skin and Vanilla fleck. Oh, how much do I love NA's sugar note. It's just so dang good! I have a couple of bottles of the original Sugarcube, and I have worn it alone, because I love it so much. There's almost a freshness to it, and of course sweetness - but it's not tooth-achingly sweet, if that makes sense. That base is pretty present here, more so than it is with Lemon Sugar. The apricot is bright, juicy and just a little tangy, and extremely realistic. I think the papaya skin is more of a supporting note, I've had it in other blends and enjoyed it, but I don't really notice it here. It may be adding to that juiciness. This is a simple blend, but it was meant to be layered, and it really shines when you do that. As I mentioned above, I wore it with Chamomile, Vanilla & Spice Tea, and I've also worn it with White Tea Vanilla, and Crystal, so far. I'm going to try it with Santalum White and White Ambre Ombre, because I feel like those will be great pairings, too. I think this is a very versatile layering perfume, and would be lovely with so many perfumes. Anything with vanilla, for sure. Bastet Ice Cream Accord, some Dinos, Eternal Ankh, really I think anything you think might work. I bet it would be pretty with Egyptian Musk, and definitely Diamond. I'm so happy I grabbed this! If you were a fan of, or yearning for, Love of Bastet: Pink Vanille, I think you should definitely get this.

I have Dimetrodon from last year, but I've run out of time, today, so I'll post that separately. It's currently available in the Summer LC Resurgence, in the Prehistoria collection.

What did you choose from this release? What are you looking at? I'm eyeing a Dino or two, and more Teas....always more Teas! I hope y'all enjoyed these reviews, and they helped you to make some decisions. As always, thanks for reading!

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kristie-rp · 4 years

Text

4. it goes like this

Who: Raven Nifircadu What: a novel of character; growing up, or not.

It goes like this:

The first time she uses her magic, it’s an accident. It’s a prickling sensation on her fingertips, a tingling sensation against her lips like the colour that is starting to be popular in the upper echelons of society, and her whispered intent brings the horse that might have trampled the neighbours beloved cat to a complete standstill. The hose looks startled, and so does the rider, blinking at her as she scoops the cat off of the dirt track.

The cat purrs and rubs its’ head against her chin, and she laughs in delight, pleased to have saved the critter from suffering, and the rider the trauma of murdering an innocent animal. It happens, sometimes – has happened before, to the ducklings born last spring to the blonde family down the street, as she remembers with unfortunate clarity – but that doesn’t mean it is welcome.

So Raven saves the cat by accident, and the word stop tastes like something minty and powerful on her lips, and she thinks to herself, this is something I enjoy, the way she enjoys a story from the local teller or accounts of lore from anywhere but home.

This is something I can learn.

“Thank you!” she exclaims, a little too excited. The bookseller is a man with red hair and eyeglasses – or maybe it’s actually the woman with soft-looking brown skin, dressed in a servants attire on the seat at his side.

The woman smiles, and it is less soft than the mans, something sharp in it. “I only ask that you don’t struggle through it all on your own. Myself or her highness would be happy to help if necessary – or there are other experts. Other magically inclined individuals.”

Raven runs a hand through her dark hair, dragging it back towards the braid the breeze has freed it from. “There are others? I mean – of course there are others, there wouldn’t be a book, otherwise. But there are people who understand that are – accessible? To me?”

The womans smile sharpens, somehow. For a servant, she looks almost regal – if she is a servant of the queen as she claims, then perhaps, Raven thinks, perhaps she learned the expression from her majesty herself. “Come by the castle and see for yourself what we know,” she suggests.

Raven is perhaps too eager to do so.

The first ritual she completes is almost a failure. This other person – a woman with no colour to her at all aside from the raised scars Raven pretends she doesn’t see when she loans her a cloak – hums something when Raven goes over it all, and suggests that she ensure the blood at the corners is fresh on application.

And the woman – Lady Sarina, she was introduced as, though Raven privately doubts someone so subdued is nobility here – is right. Raven substitutes the days old blood from the calf draining done by the butcher for something freshly wrung from a chicken set for execution anyway. The bloodletting is quick, and with the blood painted into the right places and the incantation successfully invoked, Raven actually applauds the flaring light at each corner. There’s a gleam to the air after the fact, a blend of the four colours that had manifested: red and violet and blue and a vibrant orange, all twisted together in an enchanting, shimmering mess.

“It’s a protection spell,” she tells her mother with a grin, when she’s explaining it later that day. The aging woman shakes her head in bemusement, but for all her scepticism, she cannot contest the gleam in the corner of her eye whenever she’s home. “And fair health, for good measure. There is a spell for fortune, but it’s trickier. The money would have to come from somewhere,” Raven explains, and goes on and on and on.

The possibilities of magic don’t really have an end, she’s learning. The real magic is in the intent – and even before she learned of the magic in her words, she’d been told she was wilful. This is just using it.

It goes like this:

Raven had been discouraged from using summoning spells, despite the fact that everyone she spoke to knew them to be useful. Intella had had a host of warnings to offer about the dangerous nature of dealing with tricky immortals. December had said something about the fallibility of traps. Rikku had been the one to remind the group of the fact that demons themselves were physically dangerous, and should not be dealt with with magic alone, lest the spells lend them power.

“Not to mention,” Sarina had added, “it’s quite rude to drag them from their homes to answer some questions you could answer yourselves, were you willing to do the legwork.” She’d left not long after that, disappeared to wherever it is Sarina goes when she isn’t being mysterious and proud and generally pretty confusing.

(She both seems delighted that Raven is happy to talk magic, and annoyed as well. It is as though she doesn’t want to discuss the thing they have in common all the time – but Raven knows where to find others to talk about human things with, and Sarina simply isn’t on the list.)(This is at least in part because she knows Sarina doesn’t actually seem entirely at ease in their small city.)

So Raven has been discouraged from summoning spells, but apparently someone else wasn’t, because a thing called Dante is standing on the ashes of most of their homes and grinning like a lunatic, and December and Intella both have called the man a demon.

“That’s not very fair, is it,” Raven says. She’s fairly sure the horses got out; if they didn’t, she is going to have a Problem with this Dante person. “How come no one gave whoever summoned him the speech?”

Rikku doesn’t give her a look, because she is much too professional at this hunting business to do so, but Paimon does. Paimon, apparently, is a demon who walks the earth. Raven had thought for a long time he was nothing more than a particularly hot-headed neighbour, one with a tiny wisp of a wife fading away on a sick bed while he struggled and failed to raise their children.

(The wife died in the fires, perhaps ironically, she learns. Dante led to her death, but technically it was Paimon’s own flame that consumed her, used in a bid to get the invader out of their home, their city, their land. Dante left the city, and not much else.)

“This is a very delicate process,” Paimon says again, hammering the point home. Raven does not roll her eyes, because she is a grown woman and she can pretend to be the respectful person her mother wants her to be at least once before she passes. “And dangerous to you mortals. You will be reborn, of course, I can promise you will be reborn,” and Raven wonders what that faraway look in his angry, burning, viciously violet eyes means. “I cannot guarantee you will live.”

Intella agrees because she feels she is obligated; besides, her primary contribution has been finding the ritual itself, and bringing it to their attention. The others have less to risk, or so they feel; Rikku and December have responsibilities, and Paimon was never going to back out if his bride was in danger or gone. Dante is too powerful for their usual measures of containment, but an old demon rite can lock anyone in the pit, and it takes five to complete it. Someone of demonic descent, celestial blood, immortal blood, mortal, and magical: Paimon, Rikku (for reasons Raven has not gotten a chance to ask, either, not without getting a capital-L-Look from the foreign sword master), Queen December, Intella, and Raven herself.

“Your part is the most dangerous,” Intella had said to Raven. It was between hours, between the peak of the full moon and the fall of dusk, long after Paimon checked yet again that everyone involved was in agreement, but only shortly before they had to begin the arrangements for the ritual itself. They need to lead Dante to a specific place in the city, a nexus along the old ley lines Paimon had shown them maps for without citing his sources, and the ritual will serve two purposes. It will draw the demon to a place where the five of them can be sure the magic will do what they want it to, and it will serve as a demon’s trap.

“I know,” Raven had said, and smiled, perhaps a little grimly, but mostly in excitement. She’d only been fairly young, after all, perhaps thirty years old. She was still excited about the possibilities of magic, and what it could do for her, and for the world.

She should never have been alone at any point, but she is, the others caught up in sentiment and the chaos of their own plan falling apart.

Except, Raven knows doesn’t know her own limits. She hasn’t learned them, not from Intella’s input or Sarina’s, and she never will. Not in this lifetime. She knows what her role is, and she sets her will to completing it.

And she does – but the final act is synchronous with Dante burning her alive from the inside out, and her soul is dragged down through the nexus she was not able to escape.

It goes like this:

Falling, plunging, spiralling darkness streaked with flame and ash and soot and burning –

Screaming, high and sharp, constant, never ending; where the fall ends, the pain begins, and it does not stop, won’t stop, not for anybody, not for –

Pain, no, agony – boredom makes even the kindest people dangerous, and Dante was never kind and she is stuck, trapped, imprisoned –

I can promise you will be reborn, the King without a crown had sworn, and yet she is here for an eternity of stabbing and burning and fear and torment and misery and loneliness broken only by him and his glittering golden skin and his high, cutting laughter –

The magic had tingled, once, breaking her out of a reverie of almost. Now, the tingling starts in her bones.

If she holds her breath and tries to enjoy it, to chase the feeling of her magic staying with her when everything else fell apart, it burns.

It goes like this:

Humans do not remember their past lives, not unless they are the toys or experiments of a bored divine entity. The gods are immortals, and they are bored.

Somewhere in Europe, the Industrial Revolution is remaking the world. Raven is lying awake in a bed in what will be the Middle East, terrified of the nightmares formed by her memories of the place between lives.

It’s a loophole, and not a pleasant one. She does not know if Dante has cursed her or tainted her in his decades of torment, because she cannot recall it without her body aching in all too familiar ways, cannot think of it objectively past the ghost of the pain as fresh as the original wound – she cannot remember for sure whether or not he did anything to make this last. Her magic simmers in her veins and for all she tries to figure it out, to determine exactly what has been done to her, none of the spells she tries produce the ring of a magical curse. So it is either demonic or not a curse, and she can do nothing either way.

Raven gets older, and the pains become – not easier to live with, because they are a reminder of something she should not remember, but something she is used to. They get worse when it is hot, and it is often hot, in the place she calls home for the first twenty-something years of her second life. She is grateful to leave it behind.

She is less grateful to find herself at deaths’ door less than a year after.

She fights off her would-be killer by spilling their blood herself, and she does not know what drives her to it, but she weaves a protection spell into the earth where she would camp using his blood. The air simmers in shades of red and violet, blue and orange, and she almost smiles to see it.

She doesn’t do much of that, this time around.

She gets older, and while she can look after herself and fend off attackers, there is a constant fear in the back of her mind. She can learn all the healing spells she likes, but the fact remains that if her body continues to wear, it will start to be less effective, less able to respond when she needs it.

At some point, she hears about Elizabeth Bathory, an old Hungarian noble who did the unthinkable to maintain her looks. It’s a fools legend, or at least that’s what Raven thinks, but she has the evidence that blood is powerful in the air around her more often than not, woven into the ground. And human blood – well. She drained some from her would-be-killer, and even when only mixed with something else, it produces a stronger ward than anything she has cast before.

Elizabeth Bathroy bathed in the blood of virgins to stay beautiful. Raven doesn’t give a damn about her beauty, natural though it is. What she cares about is longevity and immortality, anything she can do to avoid experiencing that in-between place again.

It goes like this:

Experimentation can take a lifetime to bear results. Raven just needs a night and a sickly child, slated for death regardless of her interference, to learn enough to know she won’t be sharing this ritual with anyone else.

The things we do to avoid our personal demons, to avoid whatever we are afraid of, indeed.

#ft. raven #kwrites #kwriting #kristie writes #kristie's writing #nanowrimo2019

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