#ethel's writing
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KILL ME IF IT'S WORTH IT; ON FLESH.
silas denver melvin // ethel cain // george bataille // blythe baird // margaret atwood // nicole homer // emily palermo.
#sorry 2 silas denver melvin for having to endure all the posts where he's mentioned </3#on flesh#web weaving#silas denver melvin#ethel cain#george bataille#blythe baird#margaret atwood#nicole homer#emily palermo#writing#poetry#webweaving#quotes
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"I BELIEVE THERE IS A GOD. BUT I'M NOT SURE HE STILL BELIEVES IN US." // MUSINGS ABOUT GOD
Vi Khi Nao Fish in Exile // pinterest // Ada Limón The Echo Sounder, from "Lucky Wreck" // Mitski Bug Like an Angel // Margaret Atwood Half Hanged Mary // Ethel Cain American Teenager // Supernatural (2005-2020) cr. Eric Kripke // Elle Emerson Regarding the Röttgen Pietà // Yves Olade Belovéd // Kim Addonizio Wild Nights from "Tell Me" // Jensen McRae Machines // Supernatural (2005-2020) cr. Eric Kripke // Anna Kamienska A Nest of Quiet: A Notebook (tr. Clare Cavanagh) // Tom Waits Day After Tomorrow // pinterest // Lauren Camp Upon Taking the Universe One Thing at a Time
#about god#on self#on religion#poetry parallels#poetry compilation#web weave#web weaving#words#poem#spilled poetry#spilled ink#dark academia#spilled thoughts#writing#dark academia quote#poetry#dark academia poetry#vi khi nao#ada limon#mitski#margaret atwood#ethel cain#supernatural#spn#eric kripke#elle emerson#yves olade#kim addonizio#jensen mcrae#anna kamienska
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im forever obsessed with the idea of Stiles and Derek being together in secret. not because they’re actively hiding it but more because their respective lives can’t seem to merge together.
Stiles is still in school trying to keep his grades up and keep up appearances of the imperfect/perfect son with his dad while Derek is living in the burnt out shell of his childhood home like some kind of depressing episode of bushcraft camping.
they’re both damaged and somehow they’re the only ones who can see that about eachother.
they save eachother’s lives one too many times and it ends up with Stiles giving Derek his virginity and his entire heart in the process while Derek’s entire fucking soul howls for Stiles. he wants to mark him and to claim him and to keep and hide him forever so they’ll both be safe.
but Stiles only stays the night in Derek’s burnt out den when his dad works the graveyard shift and reluctantly leaves in the early hours of the morning to go home to get ready for school.
it gets harder and harder for Stiles to leave every time he spends time with Derek. he’s not sure what it means about him that he’d rather stay with Derek in this broken haunted place.
he just knows that at least here he feels alive and he doesn’t have to pretend, he can just be who he is or at least who he’s become. this needy wanton thing that seem to never be satisfied with what Derek is willing to give him. Derek gives him an inch and Stiles wants a mile but somehow Derek indulges him every single time. and when they’re both close so close they both whisper promises to eachother they aren’t even sure they’ll be able to keep but it doesn’t matter. what matters is that after when Derek’s head is pillowed on Stiles’ chest, the both of them breathing hard with Stiles’ fingers playing with Derek’s dark hair, they both know the truth.
they’ll never be able to stop whatever this is.
Stiles can’t sleep alone anymore, his own bed feeling foreign. he can barely keep up with conversations that aren’t Derek’s words, his mind always drifting to the wolf and wondering where he is, what he’s doing, should he go see him on his lunch break?
Derek roams the woods at all hours whenever Stiles isn’t with him. he starts following him to school, to his house, to the god damn grocery store just to watch him.
somehow no one truly notices how reclusive they both become until it’s too late. they’re in way too deep and there’s no going back.
when people finally realize/find out about them they’re too codependent and entwined with eachother to even care about the reactions.
Stiles’ dad kind of blows a gasket because how the fuck did he not see it? does he even know his son at all? meanwhile, Scott has a one sided screaming match while Stiles looks at nothing.
the sheriff visits Derek at the shell of his home and confronts him. Derek’s face is hard and closed off the entire time but he acknowledges that him and Stiles have something. but he also knows how hollow Stiles truly feels from the neglect the sheriff imposed upon Stiles when his mom died and that’s not something Derek is inclined to forgive and he also knows this isn’t his place to tell. Stiles will tell his father what and when he wants to share. so he tells the sheriff to go talk to his son.
the sheriff looks absolutely distraught at that because he realizes he doesn’t even know how. Stiles have slipped through his fingers and become this unreachable being. he isn’t the person Stiles trusts anymore. the strange man living in the woods standing in front of him has more claim to his son than his own father does at this point.
a few hours later, Stiles drives up the long dirt path to Derek but this time he has a packed duffel bag with him and his eyes are red and puffy. Derek just takes the bag from him and takes his hand and pulls him to the mattress they use as a bed. they lie down and Derek holds him as he cries.
he’s not going back home. he doesn’t want to go back home anymore. he’s graduating in a couple weeks he doesn’t have to go home. can he stay here? please Derek can i stay here with you please please? Derek just kisses him softly in response because even if he wanted to he could never say no to Stiles, not when he’s like this, so fragile and on the verge of breaking completely.
Stiles sleeps better that night than he has in months. he graduates. he doesn’t apply to college but he’ll think about it next year. for now, him and Derek are busy building themselves a cabin with a huge garden. they work during the day at their own pace and at night they make love.
all in all it’s good, it’s peaceful and it’s more than enough.
#so i have no idea how this came to be#tongue by miss anhedonia (aka ethel cain) was on repeat and this happened#sterek#eternalsterek#my writing#personal
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when ethel cain said “i tried to be good am i no good am i no good am i no good” which started with her self-loathing after being abused by her father and neil perry said “i was good. i was really good” and then he killed himself because he knew that he would never be good enough for his father
#strangers ethel cain#ethelcain#ethel cain#hayden silas anhedönia#hayden anhedönia#preachers daughter#feelings#writing#coming of age#quotes#web weaving#american teenager#sun bleached flies#a house in nebraska#southern gothic aesthetic#southern goth aesthetic#southern gothic#dead poets society#neil perry#mommy issues#daddy issues#intergenerational trauma#mothercain#mother cain#western nights#family tree#ptolemaea#august underground#televangelism#on fathers
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Virginia Woolf, from a letter to Ethel Smyth written in January 1935
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HUSBAND JACK SCHLOSSBERG HEADCANONS 𓍼 𓇢𓆸
taglist: @remotewatch @bloxholden35 @kennediva @h-l-vlovesvintage @absurdlyvintage @chemicalw0rld @fortheloveofjos @kimcrystal123 @astro-vibes-bro @tsloverr-13
might make this into a couple of one-shots??
imagining WIFE!READER as an orion carloto type, who balances modelling and writing, and makes tiktoks in the same vain of alanabananaxox on tiktok (she's been my no.1 tiktoker since 2021) and sotce.
met wife!reader at a runway after party of an up and coming new york indie brand ( sandy liang, khaite, bode etc. )
proposes to you with the blythe doll you had been obsessing over, dressed in a wedding dress and hand-customised by a popular etsy dealer with quite a high rate like this girl on tt
encouraged by jack to do a ‘what’s in my ( miu miu joie leather ) bag’ video on tiktok to help campaign for kamala akin to this video of anne hathaway but with a different vibe.
jack is ultimate embarrassing hard launcher bofy, leaving in all his girlfriends giggles that come from his chaotic antics when filming his videos.
wife!reader loves to slather jack’s face in biologique recherche’s “masque vivant”, he complains that it smells like rotting meat😹😹😹😹😹.
jack would be always on that damn phone during your runway shows, recording each time you pass him by in the catwalk.
would be the absolute opposite of marriage-shy.
unpopular opinion this man would be asking about marriage, a solid 3 months in ( jfk and jackie married in a YEAR )
fucks UP a rotisserie chicken.
forwards you his tweets before and asks if they’re good enough to post.
smells like aesop musk and of herbal deodorant.
wife!reader buys rick owen’s black and white t-shirts and slacks for jack, and jack’s absolutely baffled when he learns the price tag.
love language is buying wife!reader drinks whenever and wherever they are: hot chocolate in central park, home-delivers you a sab benedetto sparkling water because he had a meeting at cipriani downtown, and always orders a polo bar punch for you prior to your arrival to your shared weekly dinner date at the polo bar on 55th st.
instigates a24 marathons on friday nights, much to the dismay of your prior night plans ( you are more of a criterion collection girl and have held a subscription since you were a freshman in college )
( clumsily ) slips lana del rey lyrics into sexting and dirty talk.
husband!jack and wife!reader texts go like this:
jack is horrific at low impact pilates, he needs to be near a body of water.
he wears your prized doublesoul x orion caroloto ‘lamb’ socks around your woodfloored high-rise despite your varied attempts at hiding them from him.
constantly frets over you during society galas, which is quite convenient due to your tempered social anxiety and your forgetful memory of high society etiquette.
immediately brings you to meet the family, for which you were completely unprepared for ( i’m imagining something reminder of that one story of meghan markle meeting princess kate middleton in ripped jeans and bare feet )
jack loves to wear your 100% cotton brandy melville pointelle tanks despite them being comically tiny for his frame.
would have an innocence kink.
he gets intensely flushed when called his proper full name: john bouvier kennedy schlossberg, wife!reader abuses this to the HIGHEST degree!!!
the first time he entered you apartment he was constantly paranoid of breaking anything because your house was littered with ceramics from brooklyn under-ground designers and clay lamb figurines.
he NEEDS his beauty Zzzzzzz or else.
plays with your very expensive westman atelier blushes like a toddler.
sickly devoted to you.
you both want to adopt a lamb despite living in a HIGH-RISE apartment.
sends pics captioned with anaïs nin lewd quotes.
he would think whole foods was stupidly over priced but would purchase his groceries there in spite of his opinions.
has hyperfixations on old-hollywood women which causes you to be snippy at him for exactly 2-3 hours ex. jack’s current hyper fixation on audrey hepburn being his doppelgänger.
wife!reader definitely participated in that egg cracking trend where girls would crack an egg on their boyfriends head.
would love caring for your hair and doing your curly girl hair routine if you had one.
wife!reader does small yet viral shoots for brands like mirror palais, the row, and loewe.
manhandles you ( lovingly ) without even trying.
mans is a chronic diptyque candle lighter.
loves to be coddled and cradled as a grown man…
plays with your van cleef stack before stage when he’s nervous about his speech landing correctly
uses his family connections to get his girl courted by the high-ticket fashion brands: schiaparelli, chanel, dior, yves saint laurent etc.
#husband!jack#melancholicstation#melancholicstation writes#jack schlossberg#jack munch schlossberg#jack schlossberg fanfiction#jack schlossberg fanfic#jack schlossberg x reader#jack kennedy#fuck rfk jr#bobby kennedy#robertfkennedy#jfk#rfk#kennedy family#john f kennedy#jackie kennedy#jackie o#ethel kennedy#dead kennedys#the kennedys#jfk jr#carolyn bessette kennedy
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𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍, 𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗅𝖺𝗆𝖻
𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝘾𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩 (2𝙆) (𝙏𝙒; 𝙎𝙢𝙪𝙩, 𝙎𝙚𝙡𝙛 𝙁𝙡𝙖𝙜𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣)
‼️18+ 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐃𝐍𝐈‼️
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The story of how the priest fell in love was a single thread that, for better or for worse, tied Eve to her fate.
The Singh family had immigrated from Kolkata to Omaha in search of America’s land of opportunity.
As Eve joined her family in their pew, a handsome young man with brunette hair took to the pulpit; a heavy black cassock hung from his broad shoulders, a crucifix laid over his chest. “Good morning.”
It was a different sight than usual this Sunday morning.
Father Mayhew gave the masses on Sundays and Holy Days of Obligation but was priming his son to take his place on the altar and be the humble shepherd to the sheep of the town.
Charlie Mayhew.
The town’s golden boy, opening doors for the elderly, volunteering at the transient shelter, and babysitting the children of the parishioners.
The perfect picture of what a priest’s son should be.
Charlie didn’t hold any prejudice toward his congregation’s newest additions; he and his father welcomed them with open arms and introduced them to the community as if they were already one of their own.
Even when the townspeople were hesitant or unwilling to accept their newest residents.
“Miss Singh.”
Eve turned at the sound of her last name, looking over her shoulder with wide brown eyes as Father Mayhew’s son approached her with an easygoing grin, smiling and greeting other parishioners as he made his way to her.
“Good Morning,” Eve’s accent was heavy, and her English was still being learned.
The townspeople gave her family odd looks when they did not take the time to understand Eve’s family and friends properly. “The sermon you gave was lovely.”
“Thank you.” Ever humble, Charlie bowed his head meekly. “I have to admit, it’s distracting up there when you’re beneath me.”
Eve blinked in surprise, and Charlie quickly reassured her with a charming grin. “I couldn’t help noticing you’re...missing something.”
“What am I missing?” Eve looked down at herself, holding her missal and rosary in her hands.
Charlie only laughed softly and shook his head dismissively.
“Come back at golden hour. Seven P.M.”
Charlie gestured to the interior of the church. “The light comes through the stained glass just right, and this place becomes...” His dark eyes lingered on Eve for a moment too long, and both young adults could somehow see their lives playing out before them. “Transcendent.”
-
The gold light reminded Eve of her tree swing in the woods of her childhood home as she entered the chapel at seven p.m. on the dot. “Hello?” Her voice echoed in the chapel as she searched for Charlie, who made his presence known from the choir loft behind her.
“Oh!” Eve felt small with Charlie looking down on her from on high; she had felt that way since her family had arrived in Omaha with only the clothes on their backs and their hearts in their hands. “I’m sorry, I did not know you were there.”
Charlie only grinned as if he knew something she didn’t. “Come up here; it’s a better view.”
Eve joined Charlie in the choir loft, and he was right.
The view from up above was better.
“I hope this isn’t too forward.” Eve followed Charlie to the sacristy, gasping in surprise when he began to unbutton his black dress shirt and remove his belt. “I’m going to clean up before I give you what you came for.”
“Wait here.” The gentle demand in Charlie’s voice stirred something inside Eve; she just wasn’t sure what that alien feeling was yet.
Eve turned her head away to stare at the crosses hanging from the wall as Charlie stripped in front of her to his underwear as if he were putting on a show.
Dark eyes stole glances at the size of Charlie straining through the nearly see-through delicate material. “Okay.” She exhaled shakily when Charlie’s half-naked figure disappeared into the bathroom.
The sound of shower water hitting the floor and steam filled the tiny room. It got humid quickly. Eve undid the first few buttons of her dress, sighing and fanning herself as she waited for Charlie to finish.
‘If you’re listening, God. Don’t let Mummy and Daddy catch me.’ Eve silently prayed to the various crosses and religious imagery decorating the church back room.
An unmarried woman still at home with her parents, alone in the handsome, young priest’s chambers?
Eve second-guessed the consequences of this visit as she redid the buttons of her dress, shooting to her feet when Charlie exited the bathroom in a cloud of steam.
Droplets of water dripped down Charlie’s bare and glistening chest; his brunette hair was shiny copper in the low light of the room. “Is something wrong, Eve?” He looked down at himself, laughing as if he now realized he was naked.
Save the white towel hanging from his hips.
Eve followed the trail of hair on Charlie’s abdomen that disappeared underneath the towel. “I... do not want to get us in trouble.” She nervously twisted a lock of hair around her index finger, turning it purple. “What would people say?”
Charlie’s expression changed to one of mock hurt. ‘Me?’ He mouthed, putting a hand over his heart. “Miss Singh. I’m wounded.” He boldly walked up to Eve, caging her against the dresser she backed up against and retrieving a velvety, black box that sat inside.
“I cannot accept-” Charlie gently shushed Eve when she began protesting, putting his smooth, cool hands over Eve’s to guide her fingers to open the box.
Gasping softly, Eve was in silent awe as she lifted a golden crucifix, hanging from a delicate gold chain that dangled from Eve’s long, brown fingers. “It’s beautiful.” She whispered, her dark brows knit together in confusion. “What is it?”
“This shows who you belong to.” Charlie watched the gold light reflect on Eve’s features as she admired the necklace.
Eve allowed Charlie to take the necklace from her fingers, his words running through her head. ‘Who I belong to?’ She wondered. ‘Who do I belong to?’
“Turn around.”
Eve obeyed as if Charlie’s commands were almost second nature, closing her eyes when Charlie gathered her long, black locks in his hands and combed his fingers through it once, twice, before pulling her hair back to fall between her shoulder blades.
The necklace chain was cold as it graced Eve’s throat, shuddering when she felt Charlie ever-so-slightly run his index finger along her collarbone. “Blessed be you.”
Eve nodded and bid Charlie goodbye, confused of the events that had transpired as she walked home.
The tutoring lessons Eve began with Charlie to learn English, and church study became frequent. Charlie would stop short of giving Eve her release, cleaning, redressing, and sending Eve home before someone grew suspicious of the young adults’ mutual absence.
-
“I am hiding from something I cannot stop.”
Eve stood in the church sacristy with Charlie, her dress bunched in her fists from how tight she clenched her hands at her sides. “It feels like a fever in me.”
The dreams of Charlie’s body on Eve’s, learning to touch herself the way Charlie had instructed her, secret glances and touches in the chapel—it was all becoming too much for Eve to bear.
“Please,” Eve begged, getting on her knees and clasping her hands, looking up at Charlie with desperate brown eyes. “Help me.”
“Oh, Lamb…” Charlie sighed long and low. He guided Eve onto all fours on his mattress, pushing her dark hair off her shoulders and pressing his nose into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply until Eve filled his senses. “You'd do well to say yes to me.”
Feeling Charlie’s cold, smooth hands slide up her waist, undoing every button before sliding the dress up over her head. “Do as I say.” His tone was low and dark; it reverberated through Eve’s body as he dragged his mouth down her spine.
Neatly folding Eve’s dress, Charlie placed it on the bedside table.
“I’m on fire,” Eve exhaled shakily, bunching the fabric of the comforter in her hands when she clenched them into fists underneath her, feeling Charlie’s heavy, dark presence behind her.
“I’m on fire, I’m on fire, I’m on fire...” Eve chanted like a prayer as Charlie teased her with featherlight touches that transformed into a hungry seizing of Eve’s flesh, digging his strong fingers into her soft, brown skin and marking her as his for the taking.
“You poor thing...” Charlie rolled his neck, muscles flexing as he pulled the towel from around his waist, freeing his erection as he approached the end of the bed. “Sweet, mourning lamb.”
Eve closed her eyes when Charlie ran his index finger down her spine, gripping her hip in his hand as he teased the throbbing head of his erection against her soft cunt. “There's nothing you can do.” His jawline flexed, muscles straining, and his face flushed as he bent over Eve’s trembling frame. “It's already been done.”
‘What fear a woman like you brings upon a man like me.’ Charlie thought darkly as he wrapped Eve’s ebony locks around his fingers and closed his hand into a fist. “Show me your face.” He demanded, giving Eve’s hair a sharp tug to force her back to arch, making her look up at him with desperate brown eyes.
“Heard you,” Charlie was a man possessed, massaging Eve’s breasts, squeezing and pinching her nipples until they hardened under the pads of his fingers.
Eve turned her face into the pillow and screamed when Charlie stretched and rubbed her most intimate part, “Saw you.” His dark eyes never strayed from Eve as she writhed like a snake underneath the weight of him.
“Felt you,” Each prayer was punctuated by a thrust from the priest; his headboard scratched the sacristy wall. “Gave you.” Charlie dropped his head to his chest when Eve clenched around him, grunting in time with their movements.
“Need you,” Eve continued the prayer when Charlie went non-verbal, his dark eyes blown out as he frantically began to fuck her into the mattress. “Love you.” She felt Charlie’s hands slide underneath her legs and pushed her knees to her chest.
Glancing at his reflection in his dresser mirror, Charlie grinned at his flushed and sweaty face, his chest and neck marked with love bites and scratches from Eve.
Flexing a toned arm, Charlie admired how Eve’s long legs shook atop his broad shoulders, bending over to give Eve a sweet kiss on her sweaty lips.
“Charlie-!” Tears streamed down Eve’s face; it hurt how big Charlie was inside her, stretching her open and thrusting relentlessly.
“Am I hurting you, Lamb?” Bending over Eve, Charlie took the gold chain of her crucifix necklace between his teeth; he was slower now but still grunting loudly with every thrust.
“Here…” Charlie’s hand traveled down Eve’s heaving chest to her abdomen, swollen with the fill of him. Finding the hard nub at the top of her cunt, Charlie began to massage Eve’s clit.
Eve’s lips began to tremble, more and more tears streaming down her sweet face as she felt herself clamp down on Charlie.
Eyes wide and lips parted in a silent scream, Eve stiffened, her palms flat against Charlie’s biceps as he finished alongside her.
Charlie pulled out and frantically pumped his arm, locking desperate eyes with Eve as he moaned long and low. A white, warm, and sticky fluid coated Eve’s tummy when Charlie came with stuttering breath and blown-out eyes.
Panting softly on her side, Eve felt Charlie retreat from the bed, listening to the sound of a drawer opening and closing and water being poured.
Kneeling bedside, Charlie placed a wooden handle with multiple ropes hanging from it on the bed, splaying the ropes out wide as he gripped the base of the handle and braced himself.
The sound of wind whistling through the air and the crack of rope on skin made Eve sit straight up, drawing her knees to her chest and covering her face with her arms in horror as she watched bloody stripes bloom onto Charlie’s back.
A single tear slipped down Charlie’s flushed face as he began to line up the blood-stained rope once more.
“Stop-!” Eve threw herself over Charlie, crying out when the rope scarred her wrist. “Why-?” She felt hot tears begin to slip down her cheeks, dripping into Charlie’s wounds. “Why do you do this to yourself?”
“It’s repenting for our sin.” Charlie moved robotically, trying to line up the rope once more, but Eve stopped him with a hand on his forearm. “I have to do it.” He insisted as Eve took his face in her hands, burying her nose in his brunette locks.
“Please,” Eve hugged Charlie’s neck, kissing his temple and gently rubbing his bruised and bloody back. “If someone has to be punished,” She sniffled and pushed her black curtain of hair out of her eyes, her face slick with tears. “This is my fault. I…..tempted you.”
Charlie looked at Eve with tear-filled eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment, making him look boyish and innocent. “I came to you today.” Eve insisted, taking Charlie’s hands and kissing his wrists and fingers. “Punish me.” She begged, clinging to him in desperation.
Slowly nodding, Charlie guided Eve to kneel beside him, exposing her naked back. “Oh, Lamb…” He sighed, gently dragging the ropes down Eve’s spine. “Sweet, mourning, lamb.”
Eve screamed and buried her face in her arms when she felt the sting of the rope against her flesh.
Charlie was quick to envelop Eve in his arms, shushing and comforting her before someone outside was alerted to the illicit goings on in the sacristy.
“Do you think you can take two more?” Charlie opened his bedside drawer and retrieved a salve for Eve’s aftercare. “Three will be enough to please the Holy Trinity.”
Drained of tears, Eve nodded and assumed her previous position, feeling Charlie rubbing the front of his clothed erection into her back as he raised the handle once more.
Two.
Three.
Eve combed her fingers through Charlie’s hair as he cleaned her with a warm washcloth. “Let me.” Charlie took Eve’s delicates when her hands trembled; he slid to his knees and wrapped a hand around Eve’s ankle, lifting it to slide her underwear up her still shaking legs. “It’ll be better if I do these things for you from now on.”
Redoing the buttons of her dress and putting Eve’s black hair over her shoulders, Charlie hooked a finger underneath the gold chain of her necklace, tugging the crucifix upright and forcing Eve to strain her neck to look up at him. “Who do you belong to?” He asked in an even and measured tone.
“You. I belong to you.” Eve sighed in reply, the priest gently laid the necklace across her collarbone, guiding her on his arm out of the sacristy and into the chapel, standing at the church doors as Charlie bid Eve goodbye.
“After Sunday Mass. I want you waiting on all fours in my bed.” Charlie sweetly kissed Eve’s swollen lips goodbye, but she could see in his eyes it was a demand, not a request, from her priest.
“Yes, Father.”
#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas chavez#father charlie mayhew#father charlie#grotesquerie#charlie mayhew#grotesquerie hulu#charlie grotesquerie#father charlie grotesquerie#neelam kaur gill#neelam gill#oc#eve singh#ethel cain inspired fic#writing#mine#writing on tumblr#my writing#charlie mayhew smut#father charlie smut#for a specific reason this is set in like post- WWII times
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normalize using cannibalism as a metaphor for love and intimacy
#hannibal#hannigram#nbc hannibal#hannibal x will#goth#gothic#prose#spilled writing#yellowjackets#jackieshauna#jackie taylor#jackie x shauna#shauna shipman#spilled words#literature#dark academia#southern goth#southern goth aesthetic#preachers daughter#ethel cain#mother cain#preacher’s daughter#poetry#whump#angst#ruralcore
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i forgive it all as it comes back to me
#ethel cain#preachers daughter#artists on tumblr#it took me half a year to finish this ‘cause every time i tried to do so i cried#i could write a whole book just about what this album did to me and continues to do#thank you for being here#martyfive ethel cain
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✴︎ —PAINT THE AGES A HUNDRED SHADES OF GOLD ⊹₊⟡⋆
I DON’T WANNA TALK ABOUT LOVE ANYMORE ‘CAUSE IT’S GETTING TOO MUCH FOR ME …
cw: councilor!sevika x painter!mel, sevika is a lil sad and mean but she gets over it, sevika is also kind of a loser who can’t stop talking when she gets drunk, jinx and isha mentions because i’m evil and we know this, mel paints sevika nude, body worship, lots of comfort, oral sex, 18+
word count: 7.3k
it’s been months since sevika’s big move, and she fucking hates it to say the least.
all of these pilties are stuck up, even more than she remembers. which is a lot. she’s exhausted, she questions why she’s even a part of the council if all they do is ignore her. showing up every day and listening to them talk about her home and her people the way they do makes her sick.
they draft plans to raid the markets, shutting down anyone who isn’t licensed to be selling meat or rice or bread, but they refuse to let anyone get a license to sell those things. of course, she’s glad that she gets to eat three meals a day now, but with every bite she takes, she’s reminded of her home, and how starving they must be over there.
no matter how much she fights back, offers up a real plan that could make peace between the rivaling nations, they all just snicker and point fingers at her like she’s some sort of circus act.
and don’t ask her about how much she likes being called councilor sevika, because she doesn’t like it at all. she’s not a councilor, and maybe that’s a good thing, because it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna be.
still, she keeps her emotions under control. this is a huge opportunity to help get zaun on it’s feet and cut ties with piltover officially, she won’t spoil it by making a scene and giving up. no matter what, she’s gonna make an effort, even if it means being locked in a room with a group of rich pigs who’ve never felt that growing pit of hunger in their stomachs that make them so dizzy that they keel over on the streets.
that they die on the streets.
so yeah, it’s not easy, not even a little bit.
most of her nights are spent alone in her room. it’s nice, “small” compared to the rooms everyone else occupies, but still bigger than any house she’s ever seen in the undercity. it has large windows that let every bit of light in, but it’s still eerily dark at night compared to zaun.
in zaun, there are neon lights and buzzing street lamps that glow and flicker at every hour, so when it gets dark, the colorful lights bounce off of every inch of the city. you can see them in the reflections of the puddles, bright streaks of light flying up into the night from behind buildings and stretching until they’re out of sight.
here, in piltover, they have different kinds of lights. tiny, white holes in the sky called stars that shine when it gets dark. they have spotlights and statues and lanterns, but it gets lonely at night. everyone is at home, distancing from their friends and their jobs, getting sleep and resting up for whatever the next day will bring.
there isn’t really any rest in zaun, just a small wink of sleep whenever you catch it, and you’re up again. everyone’s grouchy and hungry and cold, but it makes for good shimmer sales, and the bar is a great place to find refuge when you need a break from it all.
so sevika sleeps with all of her lights on. an attempt to remind her of home— although her home doesn’t have a queen sized bed, fluffy pillows and soft blankets, lamps, alarm clocks, fireplaces, clean water on their nightstands, and stars that shine through their windows.
the stars might be her favorite part about piltover. probably the only good thing about piltover. she doesn’t really know what they are or what they do, but they’re nice to look at late at night when she can’t manage to sleep.
every time she finds herself staring up at them, she sends a prayer or two up to janna. always one for the people, a prayer that even though they pretend to hate each other, and there sure are a few goons who are ready to slit her throat for never paying them back, she hopes they’re okay.
she hopes that ran and theiram have got the bar under control, that vi and ekko manage to keep the chaos limited, and most of all, that jinx and isha are doing alright.
ever since silco died, her whole world was flipped upside down and shaken vigorously. who knew that someday she’d be missing jinx? but she does. she cries at night for the blue haired girl, praying for her safety and her happiness, hoping that she’s managed to keep some of her creativity after everything that went down.
and of course for the more tolerable blue haired kid, isha.
she prays that isha is still attached at the hip to jinx, that her fluffy hair gets dyed that awful bright blue color as often as she wants it to, that she’s found some way to communicate with the world while her voice is at rest.
she’s got no clue as to where they could be. one second, she’s wishing jinx would leave her alone. that she’d pack up her inventions and make a home for them far away from sevika’s life. the next second, they’re gone. no warning, no heads up whatsoever, just completely taken from her life.
but if she wishes to find any wisp of happiness, she’s gonna have to push these thoughts to the back of her mind, only letting them front when she’s alone and awake and accompanied by the stars. they’re the only things who understand her.
——
if you listen closely, you might be able to hear the sound of mel’s thoughts buzzing around in her mind.
the past few months have given her some intense whiplash, but things are finally starting to straighten out. her life isn’t exactly normal, but she’s growing used to her… new self.
she spends most of her time perched at her easel, painting the canvas in beautiful colors that fall over various people or places. it’s therapeutic for her, whatever image or question or anger she has lingering in her head, she can work it out with the paints. when she’s done, she lines them up in front of her.
it helps her see things more clearly, like a thought that can’t float away, frozen in time for her to analyze further. some of them are just plain colors. gold, with white, yellow, and bronze streaks, an attempt to recreate the swirls that are painted on her own body.
sometimes she paints her mother, her eyebrows lowered in a scowl and her silvery gray hair crowning her head. jayce and viktor occasionally make an appearance, both of their faces lost in thought as they stare at various equations and formulas that she can’t quite make out.
sometimes she just sees miscellaneous things, quick visions that she needs to bring to life. countless canvases are covered in black, with that dark red fog reaching into it like vines. there’s also the hextech that makes the occasional appearance, but she can’t quite get that bright, rich blue color right.
a few times before, she’s attempted portraits, but she doesn’t prefer them. lest has been one of her closest friends during all of this, she can sit and pose for hours while mel works away at her figure on the canvas. they’ve also tried painting together, but mel prefers her alone time.
she’s tried recreating the pictures from her memory, but it never comes out as well. she covers the canvas in thick paint, a bronze, brown, and white, making up jayce’s features. but she always clouds his face with shiny white webs, and those glistening, rainbow stars. the ones that stole him away.
while she sits, her body stays stagnant, eyes racing around the blank canvas. she mixes the colors in her head before she even opens the tubes, her eyes proportion it all for her, so she rarely makes sketches anymore.
recently, she’s been more interested in staying in and shutting out the world. the occasional knock rings out against her door, but she can’t be bothered to investigate. she doesn’t wanna give her opinions anymore, doesn’t wanna lead all of topside to peace and gas the streets of the undercity. really, she never signed up for that. sure, she’s ambessa’s daughter, but she doesn’t care to be a leader anymore. not when all it does is get people hurt and killed.
but apparently it’s urgent this time, because the knocking persists.
“um, mel?” a timid voice asks. “i hate to bother you, but the council requires yo—”
she flings the door open, clad in her white robe and slippers. her hood hangs halfway over her head as she glares at the man, but he insists on escorting her to the council meeting. her feet gently pad against the floor as she walks through the long halls, already dreading having to play referee for a group of adults who should know better.
but ambessa is gone now, and these people need someone to give them any sort of direction.
the dome shaped room welcomes her, and although she dreads being there, the sun shining through the stained glass is gorgeous. she spies a few familiar faces sitting in their respective seats, and notices some new ones who were added after the war.
“but they need the money!” one councilor booms, one of the newer ones who mel doesn’t quite recognize yet. “you can’t just cut their funds and raise the tax prices, they—”
“councilor sevika, please.” someone says, talking over her voice. “what possibly could they need more money for? our city needs to be rebuilt, and it’s them who’s caused all of this destruction.”
mel observes quietly, noticing the tears that fill sevika’s eyes. she makes an assumption that they’re either out of sadness, anger, or exhaustion, but she can’t quite tell. one thing she does know, though, is that it isn’t fair.
it’s not fair to just drag a zaunite up to topside and force her to be the only one representing her nation. especially when she has to be locked in a room full of people who hate her, who think she’s nothing more than just undercity trash to mock and make fun of.
mel’s surprised that sevika has held her ground for this long. if that were her, she’d want to pack up and leave within a day, especially when she notices the snorts and sideways glances that she gets every time she opens her mouth.
“have you even been down there?” sevika asks. “have you seen the bodies lying on the streets? have you heard the sobs of the starving children?”
they all look at her, unable to imagine what hunger even is, much less an entire nation overcome by it. shoola offers a sympathetic frown, but it’s not enough for sevika. she’s exhausted, and the thought of seeing her home even more impoverished is killing her. worst of all, word on the street is that zaunites are beginning to call her a traitor.
she wishes that they could see how hard she’s working, how much she’s fighting for them behind the scenes. but she can’t exactly blame them, it must be hard to watch every leader they’ve ever had either fail at leading them to sovereignty or turn their backs on the people. must be worse to watch someone who they thought was on their side disappear into the council and watch as things just keep getting worse and worse down there.
and this makes sevika feel horrible.
it’s hard for her not to blame herself for this, especially because that’s what she’s used to. her job for years was to be silco’s right hand, so it was constantly her fault if something went wrong. that’s just how things are. if things don’t go her way, it must be her fault for not working harder to overcome it.
“i agree.” mel says plainly. “councilor sevika has firsthand knowledge of what it’s like for them, why shouldn’t we trust her?”
sevika is taken aback at this. she’s never seen someone so… rich looking… be this understanding toward her. but although it’s the bare minimum, she appreciates it. she’ll take whatever form of kindness she can get right now.
the other councilors stare at mel like she’s just grown three heads. obviously, they’ve never been told no a day in their life. sevika is glad that she gets to be present for the first time. some of them sputter and growl, some of them roll their eyes, but sevika just sinks back into her chair and decides to let them argue it out.
“i agree too.” councilor shoola says. “it’s only fair… unless, any of you would like to go down there and experience it for yourselves? then you could tell us all about their excess of funds.”
sevika sighs in relief, thanking janna or the universe or whatever god decided to help her out. she can’t exactly smile, at least not yet, but she manages a tiny grin, and decides that maybe she shouldn’t feel too bad about herself just yet.
mel is glad that sevika and shoola have at least a little bit of brains, but she’s starting to rethink having all of the others on the council. maybe they need to fire some, or at least add some more zaunites to level the playing field. although, she now knows that sevika can put up one hell of a fight, so maybe she doesn’t need it.
but the clock strikes two in the afternoon, and the councilors file out to get on with their day until they meet again tomorrow. sevika hangs back, waiting for everyone to leave before she returns to her office. but mel hangs back too, determined to talk to sevika more, to get to know her.
sevika pulls her cape over her shoulders, completely covering her figure before she exits the room. mel perks up and shoots her a questioning look.
“yes?” sevika asks.
“you’re brave.” mel says.
“no i’m not. d’you think it’s brave of me to leave my people starving and helpless down there while i have a real home and three meals a day?”
mel just stares blankly at her. that isn’t what she meant at all, but at the same time, she’s completely right. as much as she still believes that sevika is brave for putting up with the councilors, she should be calling everyone else brave, everyone in zaun who goes days without food. sevika is the luckiest of them all.
“that’s not what i meant.” mel explains. “i meant that you’re better than them because you stand your ground instead of just getting everything you want. you work hard for what you earn.”
sevika shrugs. “i guess you could say that.”
“do you miss it down there?”
“what do you think?” sevika grunts.
“i’d bet that you do, you just try not to show it in front of anyone.”
“yes, because showing weakness gets you killed.”
“not up here, it doesn’t. you should open up a little, it might be good for you.” mel suggests.
“i’ll pass.”
“i could help you.”
“i don’t need—”
“let me help you.” mel says, reaching out to grab sevika’s hand.
“help me how?” sevika asks.
“open up to me. tell me about your life. friends, family, past, anything.”
“okay… maybe.”
“okay, good.”
——
sevika has never been great at opening up to anyone, but mel is… understanding. as much as she hates to talk about her struggles to other people, mel is probably the best possible person to talk to. mel marched herself down sevika’s hall to her door, banging on it until sevika sleepily presented herself. she marched sevika down the hall and through the building until they reached her own suite, and she fed sevika more and more wine until she started to talk to her.
it started with just a confession. sevika was wine drunk and admitted that yes, she did miss her home, and that she hated topside. and then mel pressed for more, made her tell her specifically who she missed and what she missed about them.
the list of people who she missed was never ending. at the top— jinx and isha. in all honesty, mel is shocked to learn that sevika had anyone that she really considered family, much less a daughter or a niece. but sevika tells her all about them, how isha would beg to paint her nails or dye her hair, and how jinx finally had a sister who she could play with, instead of just being too young to do anything.
but when mel asks where they’ve gone, sevika freezes. she doesn’t know, and it’s not something she prefers to think about. dead is something she’d heavily considered, but that ending makes her too sad. as long as she doesn’t know that they’re dead, they’re not. at least not in her world.
she tells mel that she hopes they’re somewhere safe, somewhere that they can have fun together. like floating on a cloud, or living in outer space with the stars. maybe they are with the stars, and that’s why she loves them so much.
“you like the stars?” mel asks.
“that’s the only thing actually worth liking about this place, i think…” sevika slurs drunkenly.
“hmm, i guess they are pretty, aren’t they.” mel ponders.
“yeah and there are so many of them, and it’s like every time you see them you’re seeing a completely different sky. and they’re cool because they only come out at night when they think nobody can see them, it’s like they’re shy. but i always see them because i’m always awake with them.” she rambles.
mel can’t help but giggle. again, everything she said is exactly right, but she’s never seen it that way. sevika offers her a fresh new perspective, one that makes her ponder how much she knows about the world.
“sorry…” sevika whispers, suddenly aware that she’s drunkenly blabbering and probably making a fool of herself. she tries to blink herself sober but it doesn’t work.
“no worries. i like them too.” mel soothes.
“i think i should go.”
“already?” mel asks.
“it’s gett’n late. i have places to be tomorrow…” sevika sighs. mel stands and walks her to the door, grabbing on gently to her human arm in an attempt to stabilize the woman. she offers a sweet smile to sevika as she leaves, even takes her hand in her own for a second and squeezes it tightly, but sevika just stares at the floor.
“mel?” she asks finally, although in a timid voice.
“yes?”
“thanks for sticking up for me. i don’t know what those pigs would get up to without people like me and you.”
mel’s heart warms at this. sevika is so drunk that she’s starting to get sappy and sweet, and while it’s adorable, it’s clear that she needs to get home. but she’s glad that her effort isn’t going unnoticed, and she’s starting to really like sevika.
“of course.” she smiles again. “get some sleep for me, okay? don’t spend too much time with the stars.”
sevika curses herself for the warm feeling that wraps herself all around her, she hates that she’s being vulnerable and making friends. she just blames the feeling on the alcohol, but she knows that it’s not. because that light, warm feeling clings itself to her every time she sees mel.
it happens again when they coincidentally cross paths, mel on her way outside for some fresh air and sevika on her way to her room to sign papers until her fingers bleed. but she realizes for the first time that mel is so beautiful. she hasn’t spotted sevika yet, but the sunlight glowing in from the windows catches her golden streaked skin perfectly, and she’s shining. it’s like she’s a real life star, and sevika can’t peel her eyes away.
“oh, hi sevika.” mel grins.
“um… hi.” she responds, her heart suddenly beating faster than usual. “where are you going?”
“just outside. been cramped up inside all day and the smell of my paints are starting to give me a headache.”
“you paint?” sevika asks, although to anyone else the answer would be obvious.
“yeah, all the time. i’d love to show you someday.” she offers, already knowing that she’s gonna have to drag sevika by the arm and force her to visit.
“okay… yeah, that would be nice.” she says.
“what are you doing right now?” mel asks.
“i just have a lot of paperwork to fill out, letters to write, things to sign, you know how it is.”
“will you stop by later, then?”
“are you gonna make me?”
“probably. if you don’t show up by yourself.”
“alright, see you later then.”
——
sevika is dreading this outing. the more times she thinks about going back over to mel’s, the more anxious she gets. every time she’s been over there the past month, she’s ended up either drunk or blabbering on about stuff that doesn’t matter. or worse— drunk and blabbering. she always finds some way to make a fool of herself, and she doesn’t know how to stop. she just wishes it wasn’t so easy to open up to her, wishes that mel wasn’t so damn likable.
mel already knows she’s gonna have to drag sevika over to come look at her paintings. she always does. no matter how many times she tells the woman to come on her own terms, she finds herself stomping down to sevika’s door and forcing her to hang out. it’s cute, in mel’s mind, it’s like a date. so that’s what she finds herself doing tonight. cleaning up her suite a little, spinning one of her jazz records, and marching down to collect sevika.
she’s arranged her paintings in no particular order, but the array is beautiful. some are framed, some are smaller than others, some of them aren’t even finished. sevika feels so moved by this. she’s never seen anything so beautiful. not anything in real life, not mel herself, not even the stars are as beautiful as her paintings.
mel sits her down on the loveseat, pouring two glasses of wine and sitting down next to sevika, but sevika begs her to talk about her paintings. she’s dying to know how anyone could make anything look more beautiful than the stars. mel blushes at that compliment— it’s a lot coming from sevika for multiple reasons— but she decides that now it’s her turn to open up.
they sit an chat for hours, and before long, sevika feels as if she knows mel like the back of her hand. she now knows about jayce and viktor and what happened to them, about ambessa, her mother, the noxians, and the rest of her family. sevika’s oddly surprised. of course, she’s aware that mel is probably the strongest woman she knows, but she never would’ve guessed that she’s been through that much.
mel cries a bit, and sevika cries too, and they laugh about their emotions like old friends. for once in her life, sevika feels like maybe not everything sucks, and that maybe it’s okay to let herself fall for someone. she just hopes that mel feels the same way.
“sevika?” mel asks, still catching her breath after a fit of giggles.
“yeah?” she smiles.
“will you dance with me?”
“i don’t dance.” sevika says, laughing at the image of her dancing with someone. how silly.
“aww, come on! it’s just us and some jazz! you’ll be fine.” she reasons. “please?”
sevika rolls her eyes at mel’s outstretched hand, but she’s very tipsy and in a good mood, so how could she say no to the beautiful woman standing in front of her?
mel yanks her up by her arm, and sevika wastes no time following after her to the middle of the room where the big sky lights let the stars shine in. sevika scowls and tenses up a bit, but mel wraps her arms around sevika’s waist so gently, guiding sevika’s arm to press against her back. mel sways them back and forth a bit, and sevika soon loosens up and stares down at mel with a smile that puts all of the stars to shame.
“do you ever miss your arm?” mel asks.
“yeah, sometimes. i miss the one jinx made for me, i wish i didn’t take it for granted.” she responds, her mood quickly turning sad against her will.
“i could have one made for you.” mel offers.
sevika shakes her head and flattens her lips into a straight line. “they won’t let me have one on the council.”
it’s mel’s turn to roll her eyes now. “no, i’ll make you one that they’ll accept. they always listen to me, you know.” she grins.
“i guess that would be alright, as long as it’s not much of a hassle.”
“for you? nothing’s a hassle. don’t be silly.”
sevika’s eyebrows pull together in the middle and she pouts, tears quickly filling her eyes. nobody’s ever been this nice to her before. offering her a new limb, protection from the ruthless comments from the council, good wine, and a dance underneath the stars. she can’t help but cry, but she’s not afraid to anymore. with mel, she feels safe enough to be this vulnerable.
mel notices her sad expression, and she silently prays that she didn’t accidentally offend sevika, it’s the last thing she’d ever wanna do. “oh, what’s wrong? did i—”
sevika cuts her off with a kiss. she doesn’t wanna hear any apologies from mel, not after she’s been a literal angel to sevika this past week. mel’s lips are warm and welcoming, they taste sweet, like if gold was a flavor. she reaches her hands up and cradles the back of mel’s head, deepening the kiss.
mel is completely taken aback by this. she didn’t know that sevika had feelings for her. actually, she thought that sevika was sick of her. but she kisses sevika back, her lips are big and pouty and oh so soft. she also gets to feel sevika’s piercing up close, and the cold metal drags against the bottom of her lips ever so slightly. it’s a stark contrast, but a comforting one at that.
one thing leads to another, and they’re quickly back on the loveseat, lapping at each others tongues and giggling like kids and holding hands. sevika’s had tons of sex before, sure, but nothing comes close to this. she feels so special, so cared for, that she notices this strange, giddy feeling bubbling up in her chest.
little does she know, that feeling is called love.
she pins mel down to the seat, both of them breathless and high on this mysterious feeling— although it definitely has something to do with the liquor— and sevika almost cries again when mel spreads her legs beneath her white gown. the warm lamplight mixed with the starlight causes her to glow again, like she’s on fire, so sevika can’t help but kiss all over the gold patterns that paint her skin.
mel erupts into another fit of giggles, holding sevika’s shocked face in her hands. sevika tenses up slightly at her touch, but takes a deep breath and swallows all of her anxiety.
“can i?” sevika asks.
mel smiles and nods. “of course. you can do whatever you want to me.”
sevika shudders and reaches up mel’s dress, caressing her stomach and hips. mel is soft and malleable under her touch, and she’s golden. she reaches forward to tug her dress above her hips. sevika doesn’t think she’s ever seen such a beautiful sight, and mel absolutely adores sevika’s awestruck face.
the same golden markings that paint her face also trail down her abdomen, all the way to her ankles. there are thick streaks of gold that mirror each other on each side of her torso, twisting themselves into swirls and shapes. she also has small golden freckles littering her body, identical to the ones on her face. they look like stars.
best of all, as if sevika wasn’t already turned on enough, she has small, golden hairs that trail down from just beneath her belly button, only stopping when they crown her dripping hole. this woman is made of pure magic, and if sevika doesn’t get her mouth on her within the next millisecond, she thinks she might faint.
mel grabs sevika’s hand when she notices her hesitation, and this makes her snap back into the moment and start eating mel out. she starts slow, just some teasing, soft licks to her clit that make her shiver. mel moans so sweetly and beautifully and sevika feels like she’s floating.
sevika grips mel’s hand harder and harder as she keeps eating her out, and it’s times like these that she wishes she has two hands. one to hold mel’s with, and one to feel inside of her, pumping her full of her thick fingers. mel arches her back and thrusts up into sevika’s face, and they both nearly cum on the spot.
she pulls back for a second, a string of white slick connecting itself to sevika’s lips before dripping down her chin.
“sev, you’re doing so good, baby.” mel praises. “don’t stop, i’m so close.”
sevika speeds up her movements, determined to make mel cum. her big, silver eyes squeeze shut as her mouth works it’s magic, sucking on her clit and running her pointed tongue between mel’s folds to collect her slick.
but she doesn’t cum until sevika wraps her lips around her clit again, her piercing colliding with mel’s throbbing clit as she tips over the edge. a low whine is pulled from her throat, and sevika pulls back to admire the woman above her. mel yanks sevika up by her shirt, thanking her with a deep kiss. some of sevika’s lipstick is smudged, so mel wipes it off with her thumbs, as well as the wet slick that’s smeared all over her face.
sevika is suddenly very aware that she doesn’t need shimmer anymore, because she feels like mel’s sweet nectar is enough to get her high.
“i’m gonna need that new arm as soon as you can get it.” sevika says with her lips smashed against mel’s. “need to show you what else i can do.”
——
it’s been three weeks since then, and sevika’s been coming over every night. she still has lots of work to do, but mel helps her with all of it. they sort through tall stacks of paperwork, taking turns sitting on the others lap and pouring each other more wine. sometimes they get distracted with sex, but they try their hardest to stay focused. occasionally mel will bring out her paints and work on something new, forcing sevika to stay focused while she’s at work.
they also spend their mornings together. if they don’t wake up in the other’s arms, they’ll sleepily march down to their door and bang on it until they reunite and hold each other again.
but this morning, sevika wakes up in mel’s bed alone. she reaches out for the woman with her arm, but that side of the bed is just cold and empty. sitting up, she glances around the room until she spies mel in her silky white cloak painting on the balcony.
“mel?” she asks groggily. “why’re you up so early?”
“just had to finish something, love.” she responds, smiling at her girlfriend’s half awake state. “you can go back to sleep if you’d like.”
“can i at least see what you’re working on?”
“not yet.” she smiles. “it’s a surprise.”
sevika groans and turns around to go back inside, but mel catches her arm and yanks her back for a kiss. sevika kisses over each of mel’s golden freckles, and then her lips, then her nose, her forehead, chin, and then lips again, before returning inside. mel giggles and tries to swat sevika’s back before she gets away, but she’s too slow and the effort is wasted.
back inside, sevika grabs onto mel’s pillow and stuffs her face into it, bringing a familiar comfort that lulls her back to sleep. she’s shaken awake a few hours later, though. it’s mel, very gently rattling sevika’s shoulder while caressing her hair. “sevika, babe, wake up.” she whispers.
“mmmmh?”
“i have a present for you.”
“hmmmm?”
“wake up so you can open it.”
“ughhhhh.”
“oh, please. don’t be so pouty. i want you to see it! quickly, quickly!” she urges, yanking sevika back to the balcony. the sun is slightly higher in the sky now, some of the orange in the sky is still fading away but the sky is painted in a light yellow color, it matches mel a little bit.
she hands her a giant white box with mel’s name on it, a small golden bow sitting directly on the top. “what is this?” sevika asks.
“open it and see!” mel smiles.
so she does. she flips the lock on the box and pulls it open, a smooth, golden arm staring back at her.
“what is this?” sevika asks again, this time in disbelief. she couldn’t tell how serious mel was about acquiring a new arm for her, so she didn’t think she’d be receiving a new one this quickly, or one this pretty.
it’s a lot more modern compared to her other two arms that she’s had in the past. it has a matte gold casing all around it, with shimmery gold patterns that resemble mel’s carved into it. it has all five fingers, but they’re not as pointy, more resembling her human fingers than her past arms. sevika is overcome with emotions, and she turns around to pull mel in for a hug, hiding her tears on her shoulder.
“do you like it?” mel asks.
“i love it.”
“will you teach me how to put it on you?”
“of course.” sevika promises, and with that, mel tugs her inside and makes her sit and show her. it takes a bit of fumbling. sevika isn’t great at explaining things, but she also can’t do much with only one arm, so lots of trial and error occurs during the process. but eventually it’s all screwed in, and the first thing sevika does is pull mel in for a real hug.
mel never really realized how strong sevika is, and how crushing her hugs are. at least, not until now. she knows that sevika can hold her somewhat tightly, but one arm doesn’t do much. now that she as two arms though, mel is struggling to breathe with the way sevika is crushing her. or maybe it’s just because sevika wants to show her girlfriend some love. and she’s definitely not crying.
“i have one more thing.” mel says, although most of it gets muffled by sevika’s chest.
“what is it?” she asks.
“come outside and look.”
sevika follows her outside, grabbing onto mel’s elbow with her new hand.
“close your eyes.” mel says, so sevika squeezes her eyes shut and tries her hardest not to peek. mel dashes over to retrieve the painting on her canvas that’s now fully dry, and then she holds it to face sevika.
“okay, now open them.”
she opens her eyes to see mel holding one of her new paintings— the one she wasn’t allowed to see yet. but now she’s aware of why she wasn’t allowed to see it, because the painting is of her.
it’s sevika. hunched over at mel’s desk with her reading glasses on and a pen in her hand, a glass of wine half empty on the table next to her. the colors in the painting are very warm, likely resembling the warm lamps that decorate mel’s suite. and the most surprising thing— there’s a smile on sevika’s face.
it’s not something she’s ever seen on herself before. for one, she’s never been one to smile in general, it’s just not something she was ever used to doing. photographs are also very rare in zaun, so the only way she could’ve seen it on herself is by smiling in front of a mirror, which is even more rare.
sevika doesn’t even know how to feel. she should cry, because nobody has ever been this kind to her before, and she’s overwhelmed with emotions from the arm, the painting, and just being around mel.
she should also be happy. nobody has ever understood her as much as mel does, and she feels so honored to be seen in her artistic lense. she should be glad that she gets to live up here, where everything is safe and pretty and valuable. she’s also still half asleep, and can’t exactly tell if she’s dreaming or not.
“what do you think?” mel asks after a while.
“i don’t know what i did to deserve this.” sevika says honestly. “is there some kind of special occasion that i don’t know about? or are you just spoiling me.”
“well, mostly the latter,” mel laughs. “but it is our one month anniversary, if that counts for anything.”
“i didn’t get you anything.” sevika frowns, suddenly feeling way out of mel’s league, almost insecure.
“that’s alright.” mel smiles. “your presence is enough.”
sevika rolls her eyes and manages a smile too, yanking mel forward and giving her a sweet kiss. one month isn’t much, but it’s been the happiest month of sevika’s life, and things are starting to look up for her. for zaun, too.
“well,” mel starts, pulling away from sevika’s lips. “there is one small thing you could do for me.”
“and that is…?”
“model for me so i can paint you?” she asks with a happy shrug of her shoulders.
“now? but you just painted me.”
“yes, i’m aware.” she laughs. “but i haven’t painted your new arm yet, and that was from a few days ago but you just look so adorable today. please?”
sevika smiles too. how could she say no to mel when she asks so nicely? “alright, fine.” she agrees.
“good, and take all of your clothes off, too.”
sevika freezes. although mel has seen her naked hundreds of times, she suddenly feels shy.
“don’t worry, it’s just for us.” mel soothes. “lay on the bed and i’ll position you.”
so sevika is left no choice but to follow the orders she was given. she strips herself of her clothes— which is much easier now that she has two arms— and lays down on the bed, looking up at mel with her big, watery eyes. mel walks over and pushes her backward until she’s propped up with just one elbow.
“is this comfortable?” mel asks.
“uh… y-yeah.” sevika responds.
mel pries sevika’s legs open, positioning them apart so that she has a full view of sevika’s dripping cunt from her easel. sevika whimpers, her eyes widening and sparkling as she looks up at mel.
“don’t be shy.” mel teases. “it’s just me.”
“i know, sorry…” sevika says with a sigh, making a mental note to loosen up.
“are you ready for me to start? we’re probably gonna be here all day.”
“yeah. ready.” sevika responds.
“okay, let me know if you need a break.”
mel isn’t too fond of painting from models, but she can feel her opinion changing as she sculpts sevika with the paint. her legs are easy. long and thick, and she gets to mimic the way they’re pressed open.
her torso is next, which is one of her favorite things about sevika. her abs are hard and sturdy, but they get slightly softened out by the rolls of her stomach. then mel moves up to her tits, painting two perfectly pointed brown circles accented with thick, dark nipples.
her neck comes after, and then her arms, and finally her face. mel has memorized every little expression sevika has, so she has a lot to choose from, but she chooses the one that sevika is wearing right now. a goofy, lovestruck smile, adorned with a slight blush sparkling on her cheeks.
her eyes are also fun, they’re so big and sparkly and metallic, mel can’t help but paint stars in them. and of course, her nose, her tooth gap, her piercing, and her hair. they all come together to make up the most perfect face that mel has ever seen.
she moves on to the arms next, painting one with her thick muscles and her warm brown skin, and the other with a shiny gold. her shoulders are slightly slanted, and they have bite marks and hickeys carved into them, which makes mel immensely proud of herself.
and finally, sevika’s glistening cunt. she paints each fold tenderly, a small circle at the top covered slightly by a thin, fleshy hood. she paints the slick in between her thighs that just keeps collecting with her finest white and silver paints.
and of course, her bush, because she wouldn’t dare to forget it. she curls each stroke of her brush until it perfectly mirrors sevika’s thick, dark curls, and then she trails them all the way up her lower stomach.
she finishes the background next, but it’s not much. she doesn’t want anything to take away from sevika’s beauty. but she makes sure to add a few stars surrounding her of various sizes and shades of gold.
sevika has been surprisingly patient throughout the whole thing, mel predicted that she’d be begging for snacks only ten minutes in. but mel finishes quickly and she’s beaming with excitement as soon as she’s done.
“do you wanna see it?” she asks.
“you’re done already?” sevika replies.
“yeah. you’re an easy model.”
“okay, yeah, let me see.” sevika smiles.
mel lifts up the canvas and presents it to sevika, and it’s somehow even more beautiful than the other painting. mel captures her so beautifully, sevika is so honored to be viewed that way. for the first time in her life, she truly feels beautiful. and mel can tell that she feels that way too, through the tears that threaten to spill in her eyes.
and just as sevika is about to tackle mel to the bed too, she notices something in the bottom corner. in a shimmery gold writing, the words “my star. -mel m.” are painted. sevika looks up at mel with a questioning glance and asks, “what’s that?”
“it’s my signature. the title of the painting and my name.”
“‘my star’?” sevika reads off.
“yeah, because that’s what you are. you’re my star, sevika. you’re so beautiful and bright.”
and those words echo in sevika’s mind for the rest of time, especially when sevika pins mel down and rides her face into the pillow a few seconds later. she’s right. she is mel’s star, isn’t she.
#inspired by golden age by ethel cain because i can’t write a fic if it’s not based off of one of her songs 😭#ANYWAYS MELVIKA IS HEREEEEE#sevika#sevika arcane#arcane sevika#mel medarda#mel medarda arcane#mel arcane#melvika#sevika x mel#sevika x mel medarda#arcane#arcane netflix#arcane league of legends
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get out while u can
#mine#digicam#american gothic#photography#americana#small town gothic#ethel cain#from the car window#my photography#new england gothic#massachusetts#nicole dollanganger#my writing
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hard times
in which harry is grumpy and mean and has a scary job
word count: 3,315 warnings: angst, semi-mafia!harry, a single mention of drugs, semi-gun violence, harassment. do not read if opposed to any of the topics mentioned. authors note: i haven’t written in years so this may be bad. inspired by "western nights" by ethel cain.
Harry met Niall at a small diner called The Vinyl booth at 9:37pm, an oddly specific time Niall gave to him, Harry thought. Niall had been interested in forming a connection with Harry, seeing as he’s the biggest drug supplier in all of northern California. Niall loved The Vinyl Booth; he loved taking his girls there every other Sunday after church. It was a warm, cozy diner, with checkered flooring and a jukebox that only worked if you kicked it in the right spot.
“Harry!” Niall exclaimed, excited to finally be meeting with him after hearing about him for so long. Harry gave him a curt nod as Niall put his hand out for him. Harry took his and grunted as Niall brought him in for a weird semi hug that men do. “Good to finally meet ya,” Niall smiled and held the door open for him, a little bell attached to the handle sounded. Harry walked in first as Niall followed behind and stood while they waited for someone to seat them.
“Niall? What are you doing here so late?” A girl approached the two men, smiling at Niall before grabbing two menus.
“Y/n!” Niall exclaimed, returning an even bigger smile than she had initially sent him, “just needed a little late night treat.”
“Of course you did, come on,” she led the two to a corner booth, “I’ll be back with some coffee.” She smiled at the two and Harry noticed she hadn’t greeted him or even made eye contact with him once, which infuriated him; he was used to everyone showing him the respect he swears he deserves.
She walked back with two small gray ceramic mugs in her hands before turning again to get the coffee pot (Harry assumed they hadn’t brewed a fresh batch in some hours, disgusting him even more than he already was with the sticky menu he was holding). She went to pour some into Nialls mug before Harry decided to speak up.
“When was that brewed?” Y/n looked up as she stopped pouring the coffee.
“Um,” she paused, trying to remember when she last even touched the pot, “maybe around 5,” she shrugged, phrasing it more as a question than a statement.
Harry scoffed, “and you expect us to be okay with drinking that?” he practically shouted at the girl; she was taken aback, furrowing her brows and cocking her head to the side. “Get him a new mug and brew a fresh batch, we’re not drinking coffee that’s been sitting out for nearly five hours.” he spat. Niall went to speak up and Harry shot him the deadliest glare the man had ever seen, effectively shutting Niall up.
“I’ll get on it,” she murmured as she bowed her head, picked up Nialls mug and spun on her heel, heading towards the sink to dump out the hour's old coffee.
“You didn’t have to shout at her, Harry,” Niall scolded the man like he was a four year old. Harry just looked at him and shook his head, going to speak up before deciding against it.
The bell on the door rang. It was one of his security guards; he had told both (one of them planning on coming in three before 10pm, the time they closed) to observe the interaction between the two men; one to scope out Niall, and two to make sure Harry made it out alive. With what Harry did, not making it out of the diner was an option. The burly man sat down in a booth facing Harry directly.
Y/n was at the coffee pot, pouring in new coffee grinds and pressing at the brewing options, though there couldn’t have been more than one option with how old the machine was. She looked up as the man sat down, a puzzled look taking over her features; Harry couldn’t stop staring.
Y/n approached him, “Hi,” she smiled at him, “I’m y/n I’ll be taking care of you today, can I start you off with some coffee? I’m brewing some right now so it’ll be the freshest coffee of your life,” she joked with him, purposefully being loud enough for Harry to hear; he just narrowed his eyes at her and, instead of gazing at her, he began glaring. The man just nodded. She gave a half smile before walking back to where the two men were sat, pulling out a small notepad and pen from her apron. “Oki doki, Niall I know what you want already,” she smiled at him, a dimple forming in her cheek. She looked at Harry, “how about you? Have enough time to look the menu over?” He hadn’t even opened it.
“No,” he said simply. Her smile faded, a puzzled look taking over her features.
“Oh, well, do you have any questions?” She tucked her pen and notepad into a small pocket on the black apron that was folded and tied around her waist.
“No,” he replied, a bitter tone, “I would like some fresh coffee though, if you’re capable,” he tried his hardest to contain his smirk.
If y/n didn’t care about her job, she’d bark at him. If y/n didn’t care about the owners and how close she had gotten to them, she would’ve taken her pen from her apron and jammed it in his hand with all her might. And if y/n had the guts to either of those, she would. She cares, though, far too much to do either of those; so instead, she smiled and prayed that her eye wouldn’t start twitching.
“Of course, sir,” she turned and rolled her eyes, mimicking him under her breath. Harry heard her, but didn’t say anything. She grabbed another mug and the coffee pot, almost burning her knuckles in the process. She placed Nialls mug before him and poured into his new one, making sure to leave room for creamer. “Room for cream?” She made eye contact with Harry. He shook his head, humming a ‘no’. She tried her best to fill it to where it would spill on him if he picked it up too quickly, and made her way to the only other patron in the small diner. The bell on the door rang again, but it wasn’t who Harry was expecting.
Y/n looked up at the character who walked into and watched as he walked past her and sat at the counter. Nobody ever came in this late, three of them looked scary and they were all men. She felt her heart skip some beats in the worst way. Thankfully, two of the cooks were here, but they were already upset with her for seating guests twenty something minutes before closing.
She walked behind the counter, setting the pot down on the heater, and walked to the man at the counter. She noticed his red ringed, dark brown eyes. “Hi, I’m y/n,” she started her script, “I’ll be taking care of you tonight, what can I get ya started with?” She grabbed her notepad and pen, again, hoping he knew what he wanted to eat so she’d have an excuse to go into the back, wanting to be with the men she’d known for some time, rather than three suspicious men and Niall (who, according to her, was far too gentle to hurt a fly).
He smiled at her; it made her stomach curl. “Orange juice, please, and a mixed cheese omelette.” She scribbled in her notepad, muttering a ‘got it’ before scrambling to the back to put the order in.
“So,” Niall began, causing Harry to finally look away from the door the girl had basically run through. “I know you didn’t agree to meeting me here for the chorizo and eggs plate,” he joked at Harry. He gave a curt nod. Niall cleared his throat. “I know you have a busy schedule, so I’ll get right to it,” the bell on the door sounded again. Three minutes before closing, right on time. His other bodyguard walked past the two and sat at another end of the counter. Y/n peaked her head through the swinging door, looking around before setting her eyes on the last patron to walk in. She sighed before walking out and giving him her whole spiel.
“Coffee, please,” the man smiled at her. She was grateful for someone, other than Niall, to show her some kindness in a non creepy way. She turned to grab another mug and the pot of coffee and made her way back to him.
“Long night?” she asked him while pouring into his mug. He nodded and smiled at her, offering her a thank you. Harry felt a twinge of jealousy in his chest.
Niall continued to speak to him, though Harry tuned him out, granting him responses in the form of grunts. He watched the girl bring out the orange juice for the boy at the counter before going into the back and returning with a bowl of prepackaged creamers. “Sorry, Niall, the creamers completely slipped my mind.”
“Not a big deal, y/n, I knew you’d get around to it,” he reached into the bowl, grabbing a package and ripping it open to pour into his coffee. He did that four more times, turning the near black brown to a light, almost white shade.
She looked at Harry, his eyes already on her, “finally decided?” he shook his head. She just stared, no emotion on her face.
“Just get him the same thing as me, please” Niall awkwardly cut in. Y/n’s gaze softened, looking at him and smiled, before nodding and walking off. Harry, still, couldn’t stop staring; watching how she walked and moved and how she reacted to every word said to her. He also noticed how the boy at the counter did the same. Niall continued to talk at him about a deal he was wishing to make. Something about expanding Harry’s territory and getting a small cut. From what Harry heard, it wasn’t a bad proposal.
+++
“Thanks, again, for meeting with me, Harry” Niall shook his hand, a beaming smile plastered on his face. Harry offered him a pursed smile in return. “Get home safe.” Harry nodded, watching as Niall turned to walk to his car.
Harry turned to his, getting in the backseat, greeted by his bodyguard, Daniel, who’d entered the restaurant earlier. They sat in silence as they waited for the final of the two men, Jax, to return to the car. Harry had sent him a message halfway through their meal, asking (more like demanding) him to stay in the diner until the skeptical character had left; he left a bitter taste in Harry’s mouth and he just wanted to ensure the safety of the girl he was fascinated by.
He waited. And waited. Bit at his nails, ran his hands through his hair, groaned many times and waited even more.
Time seemed to go by so slowly. He stared into the window, watching the three of them closely. His left leg was bouncing up and down, an unfamiliar sense of anxiety coursing through him. Huffing through his nose, he ran his hand through his hair. He hated how he was feeling, and judging by her body language, she was feeling similarly.
Y/n stood with the coffee pot, having had to make another batch as the group of men continued to order more and more cups throughout the night, waiting for the two men to leave so she could crawl into bed. She had been here close to eleven hours now, and was growing anxious being practically trapped in a room with two strange men she had never seen, especially since the two cooks had left for the night (she was too scared to ask them to stay, not wanting to be a bother but she desperately regrets that now).
The bigger man of the two sat glaring at the smaller one, watching his every move. Y/n could tell he was growing uncomfortable with harsh eyes on him at all times; it made her feel safer, though.
The small one offered her a small smile, asking for the check silently. She felt a wave of relief to soon have him out of her hair. She couldn’t wait to leave; she had already wiped down all the tables, swept, asked the two men if they’d be paying cash or card, and when they both replied with card, she closed out the cash drawer on the register. She was eager, practically vibrating. Nothing planned for the night, she just couldn’t wait to step outside into the fresh air, feeling suffocated in the small space of the diner.
She handed the small receipt to him and he immediately offered her his card, making sure to graze her hand with his. She noted how cold and pale it was. A small ‘thank you’ before a pursed smile graced her features. She ran his card through the machine, printed a receipt and handed the two over. He smiled at her, leaving a ten on the counter before walking out.
Outside, Harry noted the movement inside the diner, watching the weird man walk out of the restaurant and around the corner to where, he assumed, was a back alley. Jax walked out shortly after, y/n walking to the door behind him to lock it before heading to the back, but he hesitated to leave, still. The lights shut off shortly after. He couldn’t make out much more.
The door opened and, though he could barely see her silhouette, he could tell she was locking the door behind her. She stood in front of the diner, typing away at her phone. He groaned at how oblivious she was to her surroundings. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a head peeking around a corner. He unlocked his door, prepared to jump to her defense at any given moment. The man who peeked around the corner fully emerged and walked up behind y/n, his hands in the pockets of his oversized jacket. He said something to her, Harry couldn’t hear what, and she practically jumped out of her skin. She turned around with wide eyes and slipped her phone in her back pocket.
“Oh,” she gasped, “hey, did you leave anything inside?”
He grinned at her, “no, actually was just wondering what you were up to after this.” she gulped.
“Um,” she tried to think of something, anything, to lie about, but blanked. “I’m just, uh, gonna hang out with my friends,” she rushed out. His grin turned into a smirk.
“You sure?” She nodded. His smirk vanished. “You’re lying.” she shook her head, a small ‘I’m not’ escaping her lips. “Yes, you are,” he stepped closer to her, “I hate liars.”
“I’m not lying,” she backed up, her breathing picking up. He stepped even closer.
“Now you’re lying again,” he glared down at her, “must I teach you what happens to liars?” Her eyes began to well with tears. A car door slammed. A gun pressed against the boy's temple. His eyes widened.
“Touch her and I’ll blow your fucking head off,” Harry snarled, pressing the gun even harder against him.
“I-I wasn’t, I swear, I swear,” he barely made out. Tears began pouring out of y/n’s eyes.
“Okay, so then tell me what you were gonna do, hm,” with his free hand, Harry grabbed y/n, pulling her behind him. She hid her face in his back and gripped his shirt in both hands, trying to focus on controlling her breathing.
“Nothing! Nothing, I swear,” he cried out.
“You swear, hm?” he let out a breathy laugh, “Why’d you wait for her, hm? Why’d you hide back there?” The boy’s mouth just opened and closed; Harry held back a laugh. “Say something, don’t be shy. You weren’t a minute ago.”
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry, I’ll leave right now if you let me, I swear, I promise!” He began to sob.
Harry just pressed harder, “that’s not what I asked, though, is it?” The boy shook his head as best as he could, “then answer my questions.”
“I just, I wanted to see her.”
Harry laughed, “so you wanted to see her, and you couldn't have done it in a normal manner? Couldn’t have asked to hang out rather than hiding in a fucking alley waiting for her when you knew she’d be most vulnerable, fucking scum,” he spat out, inching his face closer to his.
He sobbed, “I’m so sorry.”
Harry moved the gun from his temple, but not before he pressed a little bit harder. “Get in the car,” he muttered, keeping the gun pointed at him and ushering y/n with his back towards the backseat of a black Range Rover. She opened the door and jumped in before Harry did the same. He put the gun in his holster, secured under his jacket. He looked to y/n, who was shaking in the middle seat. “You okay?” She nodded, her face down, staring at her fingers picking at a loose thread on her jeans. “I’m sorry,” Harry apologized to her, anger surged through his veins and he wished he could get out and have the opportunity to pull the trigger pointed to the back of the boy's head. The car started and pulled out of the parking lot. “We’ll take you home, I’ll send someone to stay in the general area for your safety,” she looked up at him with watery eyes.
“Okay.”
“Can you give me an address, please,” he handed the phone to her, with trembling hands she took it and typed out her address. It was a six minute walk. “How were you planning to get home?” she handed back the phone.
“I walk.”
“For every shift?” she nodded. “I don’t like that,” he admitted.
“It’s only, like, five minutes,” she shrugged, still not making eye contact.
“Still don’t like it,” he ran his hands through his hair, sighing. She picked at her nails, chewing on her bottom lip.
The drive was short, two right turns and they arrived at her apartment complex. Harry opened the door and helped her out, following her up the stairs, standing close behind her as she unlocked the door.
“It’s a little messy, sorry,” she opened the door and led him in. He stood in the entryway, taking in the details of the decorations that filled the small space (it was a small studio apartment, big enough for Y/n, but far too small for Harry). Her bed wasn’t made, with halloween sheets and decorative pillows on the floor next to the bed, and the only chair in the apartment was covered in laundry.
“It’s not bad,” he looked down at her while she gazed at him. Harry loved the way she looked at him and hated that he loved it.
“Thank you for taking me home and ya know,” she smiled at him. He nodded.
“I’ll send someone to take you to work and bring you home for the next few days, need to make sure you’re safe,” he took a deep breath in, stepping closer to her, his hand reaching up to graze her cheek, resting it as he caressed the soft skin with the pad of his thumb. He looked down at her, a glint in his eyes she couldn’t make out. His gaze shifted to her lips, his hand stilled and she tilted her head up in the slightest.
His expression changed, he removed his hand, and he stepped back. “You’ll know when they’re here. Goodnight,” and with that, he turned and walked out, slamming the door behind him.
Her cheek felt cold.
She missed his touch.
And that would be all she thought about for the rest of the night.
troubles always gonna find you baby, but so will i.
#harry styles#harry styles fic#harry styles blurb#harry styles fics#harry styles smut#harry smut#harry styles fanfic#harry one shot#harry styles x reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles imagine#harry styles writing#harry#harry styles fiction#Ethel cain
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arcane spoiler !
got this from an edit of vander & silco and i think i’ve just been stabbed
what did you just say to me.
#MIND YOU THE SONG THATS PLAYING IS LITERALLY STRANGERS BY ETHEL CAIN#i need someone to write about this from silco’s pov#ao3 here i come#june talks ₊˚ෆ#arcane#arcane s2#arcane season 2#arcane season one#arcane s1#arcane silco#silco#young silco#silco arcane#vander#vander arcane#arcane vander#young vander#zaundads#silco and vander#vander and silco#vanco
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Confrontation
#cyberpunk 2077#johnny silverhand#default male v#silverv#male v monday#*#n8.jpg#i didnt know what to write as a caption. in fact im late for class and this is all i can think of rn#lighting is sorta incosistent bc my game kept crashing and i tried to salvage it in photoshop : (#pics lowkey based off the vibe of 'ptolemaea' by ethel cain
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Need You, Crave You, Love You - Dracula x Reader (DBD)
Summary: In need of help comes with a price
Warnings: Captivity/kidnapping, horror, blood, mild swearing
A/N: This take place right before you are taken by the Entity
Available on AO3
"I am no good nor evil, simply I am, and I have come to take what is mine." (Ptolemaea, Ethel Cain)
It happened so fast. One second, you struggled to see through the storm and found yourself in submerging water. You managed to escape your car after hitting the front glass multiple times before the cold water sunk you further underwater.
You swam until you felt dirt beneath your cold hands and slowly regained your balance. You took a moment to look around you. A large dark cloud illuminated by lightning with large spikelike legs emerged from the cloud close to you. Maybe you were seeing things? You turn away from the water and look for any light source within your view.
As the rain slightly lightens up, the harsh wind picks up. Strange deep whispers call out from behind you. You then turn to see fog emerge from the water and towards you. Your eyes widen, and you make haste through the wooded area.
Everything began to look the same the further you ran deep into the forest. You started to lose hope until a small light shined through the trees. A house not far from where you stood. Just a bit up the mountains.
As you ran closer to the house, your legs burned, and you lost all feeling throughout your body from the prolonged exposure to the frigid weather. Luckily, by the time you arrived, no fog nor sound was made; pure silence.
You gave the large wooden door a few sharp knocks. "Hello?!" You knock again. This time, the door slowly opens. You hesitantly poked your head inside, seeing the large and empty place only accompanied by several lit candles to light the inside. The storm isn't letting up anytime soon, and the longer you stay outside, the more you risk dying from frostbite weather.
The large door shuts behind you. It's much quieter now since you were out of the storm.
"Hello?" Your voice rang out.
The room you stood in consisted of old architect of carved dark wood and large antique paintings. It was a rather beautiful room, and whoever lived here took great care and pride in their home.
Only taking a few steps deeper into the room, a voice startles you.
"Good evening. I bid you welcome." The deep voice says.
You whip your head towards the voice. A tall man stood just a few feet away from you. "I'm sorry for walking in here. Your door was unlocked." You apologize. "I got into a bad accident from the storm. And my car is gone. It was the closest place I could find help."
His eyes never leave you as the tall man walks towards you. "An accident?" He questions.
"Y-Yes, sir." You stutter from the cold.
The man's skin was pale, just not as pale as yours. His long white hair slightly swayed with each step he took. His white facial hair was sharp-looking and neatly groomed. There was not a single flaw on his face, and his attire was odd. It wasn't something you'd see today. It looked as if his evening attire was from centuries ago but better tailored. The colors he wore were deep red, crimson, and black, which perfectly suited his figure.
"My condolences." He places his hand on his chest.
"I'd hate to disturb your evening, but do you have a phone I could borrow to call a friend? I can be on my way."
He smiles and lets out a short chuckle. "My dear, I'm afraid a phone does not exist within the walls of my home." His eyes travel down to your drenched clothing in a stalking manner.
"Rest assured, you have not disturbed my evening." He begins slowly walking around your shivering self. "Although you are an interesting guest." His voice lowers as he makes his way behind you. A hint of an accent can be heard in his voice.
"I'm sure I have been an interesting individual: Showing up drenched and injured." You made a weak laugh to bury the anxiety.
He finally circles back, facing you. "Injured?" He raises a brow.
"I honestly don't know where exactly. It might've been my shoulder when I crawled out of my car window. I'm too numb to know, but I can manage it if it's just a scratch. Do you have any bandages I can patch myself up?"
The man's lips slightly grow upwards upon hearing your injury. "Of course. Please follow." He turns his heel, and you follow him into another room. The halls were dark and slightly warm. It was much better than the outside.
"Your home is beautiful." You say. I see you put in a lot of work."
He turns his head and smiles. "I take great contentment into making my sanctuary a place of comfort."
He leads you into a brighter, lit room. The fireplace gives the room a better view of your surroundings. He guides you to a large couch to sit on.
"I am surprised you have not dwelled into fear. Mortals who've stumbled upon me would have cowered."
You watch him light a few large candles. "I don't think you're intimidating." You glance around the neatly organized room: A couple of large bookshelves and a few pieces of sitting furniture.
"Intimidating? He finishes. He strides towards you. "I am pleased to hear that." He sits down next to you, just close enough for his clothed knee to brush against yours. The rich and smokey fragrances coming from his attire made your heart flutter. "Tell me, is it my presence that's intriguing you? Making your heart thump so loud?"
You stared, not knowing what to say. It felt like your words became twisted whenever you tried to speak. The longer the man's eyes never left you, the worse your heart beats. You could feel your cheeks flare up the closer he closed the space between the two of you on the couch. His aroma was entrancing you.
He takes his hand into yours. "Tell me," His thumb traces over your veiny hand. "Is my presence causing you to feel so strained? Or perhaps you've never met a man like me?"
He could read your mind, expressions, and thoughts so well. You couldn't think of anything to reply to him.
The warm heat from the fireplace thawed your freezing body, and you now feel warm liquid travel down your forearm. You slowly look down, seeing a dark crimson liquid paint your pale arm. It looks like you did cut yourself really well.
He looks down at your arm. A good amount of blood was running down from your shoulder, where you complained earlier. A smile creeps upon his face. "My you are hurt..."
His pale, slender fingers gently wrap around your forearm, causing you to tense up due to his cold hand. His other hand collects a sample of your blood with his fingers, bringing it to his lips to taste the warm metallic flavor.
He takes a minute to savor the fresh, lukewarm blood that was exposed to his tongue. He then hums to himself, "Your blood is so pleasing to taste." He slightly leans in towards you. His cold hand remains on your forearm. You could finally see something even more off: His eyes, a bright amber color. His other hand finds its way to your face, and his fingers cup your chin.
"Such lusciousness and magnificence you have presented to me. You remind me of my previous lover." His fangs finally appear with a large grin. "I need you."
"You get the fuck away from me." You finally speak.
Without giving him a second to respond, you shove him with all you might with your free hand. The feeling of his sharp fingernails digging into your forearm caused you to yelp. Ignoring the pain, you quickly bolt out of the room.
You ran to the front door to open it, but it wouldn't budge. You cursed to yourself. You didn't have a second to think as you heard him call out for you. With no other choice, you ran as far as you could within the dark manor.
He's never had a human captivate him so much. With the isolation swallowing him whole for many years, his craving for another being became intense. Perhaps it was why the isolation made him behave the way he did. He wasn't going to kill you. No. He was determined to make you his and part of him. It'll take time for you to surrender, but he has plenty of patience.
You hid in a spare bedroom. The room was cold and dark. Thankfully, a full moon shone through the window, allowing you to see the room. You locked the bedroom door and walked up to the window. You could see the strange cloud from earlier, only closer to you now. You quietly attempt to open the stubborn old window.
You tried to lift the window a few times, but it wouldn't budge.
"No, no, no." You whine. "Open, damn it!" Anger formed into tears as you soon discovered there was no way out.
Then his voice came from the other side of the locked bedroom. The stinging pain from your forearm caused you to look down. You didn't realize how much you bled. That was why he was able to find you so quickly.
"Go away!" You cried out. You pulled your bleeding arm to your clothed chest to try to prevent yourself from accidentally making a bigger mess.
He could hear you break down into pathetic sobs from the other side. "Please don't fret, love. My intentions aren't to hurt you." He reassures.
"I just want to go home."
"I'm afraid your loud pleading cries fall on deaf ears." His hand wraps around the doorknob to twist, only to find out you locked the door. He chuckles to himself. "This will only make things difficult if you keep this door locked. All that I ask is to see you."
Momentarily, no noise came from the other side. Then, soft footsteps grew louder towards him. The lock on the door slowly clicked, followed by the door opening. You stood before him, sniveling, knowing your fate. Your puffy eyes look up at him. You frown through tears.
His brows lowered as he raised his thumb to brush a tear down your cheek. A small smile forms on his lips, big enough to display his fangs, knowing he has you in his grasp. Your soft, fragile skin and eyes remind him so much of 'her.' He's waited so long to have someone that showed any resemblance to her. Maybe God grew bored of punishing him for centuries.
He takes pity for scaring you. "I apologize for my behavior. It's just been so long since I've seen something so exquisite before me." His thumb traces your warm cheek. "You have no idea how long I've waited for you." His accent thickens.
"Please…" Your voice let out a pathetic plea to him.
"What is it that you yearn for, my dearly beloved?"
You wince as you feel his warm breath hit your ear. You could feel his lips travel to your neck, leaving feathered kisses.
His fangs teasingly gently graze your puncturable neck. He could feel your veins pulsating beneath his sharp teeth. He was greatly aroused by it. He knew better than to turn you. It would be selfish of him. But he couldn't risk the chance of losing you. He'll convince you to join him. He'll make sure of it.
"H-Home." You whisper.
"You do not feel at home? With me?"
You wanted to say no but couldn't. You feared that anything you say that didn't align with what he wanted to hear would upset him even more. "What...are you?"
He pulls away from your neck. "A vampire."
"You...you're real..."
"I'm sure you know my name from the stories you've heard about me."
His hand lowers to lift up your uninjured hand. His cold lips kiss your knuckles. He takes his time feeling his lips against your skin and taking in your faded aroma. It's been a long time since he felt the touch of another person who he craved for. He couldn't let you go.
He lowers your hand and cups your jaw. "Let me take care of you." His free hand slithers around your waist.
It felt like you were in a trance. You couldn't move or speak. Only watch him tenderly touch you as if you were an injured animal.
"Stay with me, and I will give you anything you desire." Your body is pulled closer to his. "Let me make it right."
#I LOVE LOVE LOVE ETHEL CAIN#her lyrics inspired me to write this <3#Thank you DBD for adding Dracula :3#haven't really dived into the castlevania franchise but dracula is sooo fine 😝 excuse me if its ooc#dead by daylight#dead by daylight x reader#dead by daylight oneshots#dbd#dbd x reader#castlevania#dracula#vampire#vampire x reader#dracula x reader#dracula vlad tepes#dracula vlad tepes x reader#castlevania x reader#castlevania oneshots#my creation
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WHY AM I SO LONELY FOR LONESOME LOVE? // DEVOTION THAT SWALLOWS YOU WHOLE
Richard Siken Crush // unknown // Richard Siken Anyway // Leah Horlick For Your Own Good // Mitski I'm Your Man // Sean Glatch Caffeine, Pt. 1 // unknown // Dani Ran in an article for VICE with Ethel Cain // Katherine Philips Friendship's Mystery, To my Dearest Lucasia
#or quotes about love that drive me crazy#on love#on devotion#on self#web weave#web weaving#poetry compilation#richard siken#leah horlick#mitski#sean glatch#dani ran#ethel cain#katherine philips#poem#spilled poetry#spilled thoughts#spilled ink#writing#dark academia#dark academia poetry#words#dark academia quote#poetry#quote#text#love quotes
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