#fem!luxembourg

[tulipandplum]

Hetalia RarePair Week 2023

Day 7 Free

Black cat girlfriend x golden retriever boyfriend

@hetalia-rarepairweek

[norabrice1701]

Consequence

 A Ghost!Horstmayer x Fem!Reader AU

Summary: “Seriously?” You say, sighing in vague annoyance. “A ghost?” You don’t consider yourself to be a superstitious person, and you certainly don’t believe in haunted things lurking around dark corners.

Of course, it doesn’t make sense. Of course, ghosts aren’t real. You just need your overactive imagination to calm down.

But then comes the night that changes everything...

Word Count: 6.3k

Warnings: Explicit 18+ NSFW smut; explicit language; references to 1918 pandemic and lost love; Horstmayer needs a hug

A/N: Last year, it started with a pirate!Horstmayer fic and now we have ghost!Horstmayer on this Christmas Eve. Curl up somewhere warm with something warm & cozy, and I hope you enjoy! And to those who celebrate the holiday - I wish you all a Happy & Merry Christmas 🎄😊❤️

You inherit the apartment from your Great-Aunt Alphonsine. Heartless as it sounds, you didn't even know that you had a Great-Aunt Alphonsine until the lawyer calls you. 

“The care and maintenance of the apartment is part of your Great-Aunt’s estate. Should you choose to retain the dwelling, you will only be financially responsible for the consumables.” 

“The consumables?” You echo in confusion. “What does that mean? Consumables as in… water and electricity?” 

“No, miss. Consumables as in food, paper products, toiletries, and so forth. Your Great-Aunt’s estate has allocations for utilities, cleaning services, repair services, tax fees, and insurance costs. She was adamant that you shoulder no additional financial burden with the inheritance of her beloved home.” 

On and off over the years, your mother has spoken of the estranged family that lives in France, but surely, this has to be too much. You’d never met Great-Aunt Alphonsine, and doesn’t she have any immediate family of her own? Or is this her way of trying to reunite the family? 

Regardless, you still can’t believe it. Even now as you stand - still dumbfounded by the simple fact that you’re actually here in Paris - staring at the building’s elegant stone and wrought-iron facade, you want to pinch yourself. 

Nearly overnight, you’ve gone from a cramped, nearly-windowless apartment to this sweeping, third-story, top-floor apartment with commanding views of the Luxembourg Gardens. Nearly overnight, you no longer have to choose between paying rent or paying down student loans. Nearly overnight, you find yourself faced with the decision of what to do with such a classy place, but you figure that you should at least see the interior before deciding. 

And the interior doesn’t disappoint. Cozily appointed and elegantly furnished, the whole apartment proves an expert study in Edwardian class and comfort. Each room hosts gleaming wood fireplaces, lush rugs, and plushy armchairs and settees. The living room with a piano in one corner and a simple writing desk tucked in another corner looks like the perfect place to continue work on your novel. The dining room is warm and intimate, and blessedly, the kitchen has been updated with modern appliances. 

The hallway hosts three inviting bedrooms and one sophisticated bathroom. Each progressive room makes you feel sloppy in your jeans and sweater, yet also puts you completely at ease. The old-world charm and elegance of the whole place should probably be intimidating, but there is something undeniably homey and inviting about it.  

You make your decision and settle in right away. The living room becomes your favorite haunt and think-tank, while the master bedroom serves as your private lair. You’ve never known such stylish comfort or pleasant environs. In fact, it’s a marvel that your Great-Aunt has managed to outfit her home in a way that doesn’t feel old and stuffy but still retains the splendor of a bygone age. 

As time passes, you meet the cleaning lady by name of Marie-Rose who tiptoes around on silent footsteps, and the all-around handyman, Georges, who is never without a jovial smile beneath his bushy mustache. 

“This is an easy fix, mademoiselle.” Georges says, extending the ladder legs. “I’m glad that you called.”  

“I appreciate that you came so quickly, but really, there was no rush.” And you mean it. Replacing a burned out lightbulb in the living room chandelier isn’t an urgent matter, but Georges wouldn’t hear of it. 

“Well, Mademoiselle Alphonsine was just the kindest lady, and I wouldn’t want to do her an insult by way of you, now.” 

Your mouth pulls to an awkward, closed-mouth smile. “I wish that I had known her better.” Or at all, really. 

Georges unboxes the new lightbulb, nodding up at you with a reassuring smile. “I’ll have this replaced in no time. Don’t you worry, mademoiselle.” Despite your insistence otherwise, he refuses to call you anything else. “But keep an eye out for that ghost, would you please?” 

He starts to climb the ladder, and you arch a dubious brow. “Seriously?” You say, sighing in vague annoyance. “A ghost?” You don’t consider yourself to be a superstitious person, and you certainly don’t believe in haunted things lurking around dark corners. 

“Oh, you can be sure of it. Mademoiselle Alphonsine had many stories about her resident ghost - even said that she glimpsed him in the foyer mirror once. Eyes like golden chocolate, she said.” 

“Golden chocolate?” You hum skeptically. “And I’m sure that every time this old building creaked, that was the ghost, too?” 

Georges nods as he works. “Mademoiselle Alphonsine swore that he was always here - as a chill when she entered a room, as a phantom whisper against her cheek, as a fallen and broken object.” 

“That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.” You scoff, shaking your head. “I mean, it makes sense why a single, elderly lady living alone would conjure tales about a ghost when things went bump in the night. It’s the most basic trope in all of horror-dom! And once she believed it, I’m sure it just became easier each time something ‘supposedly-mysterious but easily-explainable’ happened for her to just chalk it up to her resident ghost.” 

Georges laughs softly but nothing about it is comforting. “Then, don’t believe in the ghost at your own peril, mademoiselle. But far be it for me to speak ill of the dead - either Mademoiselle Alphonsine or her resident ghost.” 

Of all the ridiculous nonsense. There are no such things as ghosts, regardless of what your Great-Aunt or her handyman think. 

And yet… you can’t fully banish the lingering thought. Especially in the dark hours of night when the city grows still, when the building grows silent, when shadows dance on the walls. You start to notice the ambient creaks and groans of the centuries’ old building. You start to notice the reflections in polished surfaces, unable to stop the creeping moments of suspicion and the urge to do a double-take over your shoulder. 

Eyes like golden chocolate, indeed. 

Of course, it doesn’t make sense. Of course, ghosts aren’t fucking real. You just need your overactive imagination to calm down. 

But then comes the night that changes everything. 

The day has been absolute hell in a handbasket, and you need to lose yourself. So, you do: retiring to your bed with a half-full bottle of wine and your favorite vibrator. It has been a while since your last boyfriend, and you treat yourself far better than he ever did. Still trembling from your first orgasm, you writhe against the bedsheets, slowly teasing towards your second. Your slick, sensitized skin sings as you drive the toy harder, chasing the pleasurable swell inside you. The wood and plaster walls echo with your soft cries and whimpers - and in the moments your eyes wink open, you see yourself in the mirror mounted above the bedroom fireplace. 

The debauched sight that you paint should probably be shameful, but you’re too far gone to care. Your hair fans across the pillowcase, sleep shorts and underwear discarded with your sleep shirt rucked up. With one hand twisting and pinching against your breast, the other works the toy inside you. The desperate heat builds to a crescendo as you drag against your white hot spot of pleasure, tearing a long cry from your lips as you start to boil over. 

Glass cracks and shatters across the room, slicing through your fog of arousal. You scream at the sudden burst of sound, and the toy slips from your grip. Your body fights a new surge of adrenaline-fueled energy as you stare at the fractured mirror over the bedroom fireplace. Cracked lines radiate across the reflective surface originating from a point in the middle. Several glass shards have broken loose, now smashed against the polished wood floor. 

Your heart races as you sit up to get a better look, overcome with the impending rush of your denied orgasm and the fear that bolted down your spine at the sight. Especially as you stare at the distorted reflection in the mirror’s broken remains. It looks… you gulp. Another shiver runs through you as you squint harder in the low light. The shape coalesces into a distinct, shadowed outline of a head and shoulder - and eyes. 

Eyes that glint with golden chocolate. 

You blink, and the image disappears. Or… has it even been there in the first place?

The thought keeps you awake longer than you care to admit. And ever since, you haven't been able to shake the unnerving feeling that you’re being watched. 

Sure, it sounds cliche. Fuck that, it’s definitely cliche. You’re starting to be no better than your Great-Aunt, really: living alone in an old house with an antique mirror that had finally just cracked from age. You don’t need to let the power of suggestion get to you. Of course, there hasn’t been a ghost with golden chocolate eyes watching you in your bedroom. The implications of that are just too fucked up. 

But none of that stops a shiver from crawling down your spine when living room floorboards squeak while you sit unmoving on the couch. It doesn’t stop you from giving the foyer mirror a suspicious side-eye every time you walk past or glimpse shadowy movement on its reflective surface. 

All of it stirs traitorous, lingering questions to life. Has Great-Aunt Alphonsine been right? Does her home indeed have a resident specter of some sort? Could there really be such a thing as ghosts? 

The nagging questions torment you for the better part of two weeks, not helped each night when you crawl into bed and stare at the bare patch of wall above the fireplace where the mirror used to hang. But finally, emboldened by another bottle of wine, you open an incognito browser window and let your search history spiral down a rabbit hole. 

Are ghosts real 

Why do ghosts haunt

Can you banish ghosts

Can you contact ghosts

Madame Lastra incantation 

Dr. Vladimir Zugravs’s Collection of Spells and Other Curios book

The next day finds you at the National Library of France. Of course, the section you seek resides in a quiet, dusty corner of the archives that surely crawls with ghosts of its own. Fluorescent light bulbs buzz overhead as you scan the spine titles and catalog numbers. Eventually, you find Dr. Zugrav’s book and pull it from the shelf as your heart leaps. Thumbing through the pages, you glimpse all sorts of sketches - diagrams of plants, people, symbols - and page after page of obscure, occultist lore. 

When you find the page entitled ‘Madame Lastra’s Incantation for Contact Beyond the Living World’, a forbidden thrill runs through you. Fuck, you can’t believe this actually exists, and worse… would it actually work? 

Back in the warmth of your living room, you pour over the pages with rapt interest. It… honestly, it sounds so easy. Does it really only take sandalwood scented air and a red beeswax barrier coupled with the right words to contact the dead? You read the pages again and again, looking for the obvious catch. If it is supposedly just that simple, then why doesn’t everyone know about this? 

But once you have the sandalwood incense and red beeswax candle, you wait until Saturday night. The fact that it’s Christmas Eve just happens to be a coincidence. You already told your parents that you aren’t able to come home for Christmas, and if you really have the chance to make a new friend, then… well, who wants to be alone on Christmas Eve? 

So, you sit in the foyer and light the incense. As the woodsy smell permeates the air, you light the candle and let it burn for several minutes to form a blood-red puddle of molten wax. With careful movements, you dribble the wax in a line just behind the front door, spanning wall to wall as the book instructured. Admittedly, you do cringe at the sight of the vibrant red wax cooling against the finely polished wood floor - and god, maybe you should go to a therapist after this - but for now, you’re too committed to stop. 

When the line looks thick enough - honestly, the book wasn’t too specific - you set the candle next to the incense and sit cross-legged, staring at the front door and the fresh line of wax. You turn the page and your breathing quickens. Adrenaline surges through you, taking a deep breath to listen to the gentle piano Christmas carols that play in the background as a low fire burns in the living room fireplace accompanied by the soft glow of a table lamp. 

In a clear, purposeful voice - the book is incessant on that part - you recite the words. It sounds even stupider and laughingly implausible as your voice echoes off the woodwork, as if waiting for the punchline of some elaborate joke. But then… the fire flares in the living room from the corner of your eye and a wave of intense heat rolls over you. Lightning strikes outside the windows and roaring thunder threatens to burst your eardrums. Strobing lightning continues to blind you as shapes and shadows melt and shift around you. With wide eyes, you glance around as fear otherwise paralyzes you. 

God, shit, fuck… what have you done? 

Thunder shakes the building incessantly, but your blood freezes as audible, distinct footsteps creak down the hallway. Your heart sticks in your throat as blood pounds in your ears, turning around to see… an unknown man emerge from the shadows. 

His thick chestnut hair and beard hold a neat style as he frowns down at you. He wears dark, high-waisted trousers of an antiquated fashion with a white dress shirt, matching vest, and tie neatly knotted at his throat. Firelight and lightning gleam off a wristwatch set against a thick leather band wrapped around his right wrist. He looks for all the world like he just stepped out of a late Edwarian-era photograph, and a chill runs through you. 

He rests his hands in his trousers’ pockets as he comes to a stop at the living room threshold, his face hard with disapproval. “I understand that modern sensibilities have changed,” he says with crisp, Germanic syllables. “But have you completely dispensed with all sense of general propriety?” 

You stare back at him, agape and lost for words. Too many questions overload your brain as you meet his sharp, golden chocolate eyes. Eyes that are all too familiar from a hazy moment in your bedroom’s shattered mirror. 

He blinks those otherworldly eyes as irritation tightens the corners of his mouth, and he nods vaguely over your shoulder. “Referring, of course, to the mess that you have made on his floor. Terribly inconsiderate of you as a guest, considering how that red dye will no doubt leave a permanent stain.” 

Your eyebrows climb to your hairline. “A guest…? But I live here.” 

He shakes his head in slow reproach. “This is not your home anymore than it is your Great-Aunt’s or mine - we are all houseguests here.” He advances slowly, coming more into the flickering firelight and your pulse quickens as he continues. “But, perhaps you are not as worthy as she was - first, for damaging his floor, and second, in this unwelcome -.” His words stop short as his face pinches in open confusion and disbelief. 

You freeze in equal uncertainty, watching his keen gaze fix on the roaring fire. Lightning still flashes all around - or, perhaps strobe is a more accurate word - especially as you realize that thunder no longer accompanies each bright bolt of light. Without another word, he strides forward with his attention clearly diverted from you. 

With trembling movements, you push to your feet as you continue to stare at him. Just who in the hell is this man? He can’t just come into your house uninvited… or was he invited? You stand just inside the living room, staring at the broad line of his back as he pauses in front of the fireplace. He holds his left hand in front of the flames as if warming chilled skin, but the look of astonishment on his face makes your brow furrow. 

Chilling realization creeps through you as he continues to stare at his hand in a mix of disbelief and reverence. You wet your top lip, exhaling sharply. “You’re Great-Aunt Alphonsine’s resident ghost, aren’t you?” 

“I prefer that you call me Karl Horstmayer.” 

You gasp as realization slams through you, and holy shit… the incantation has worked. The truth before your eyes stuns you as lightning flares at random, disorienting intervals. You blink away from him in your stupor, still trying to process it all, and your mindless gaze sweeps around the room. At least, until you notice that the familiar table lamp has just… disappeared. In fact, the fireplace and lightning are the only light sources around you. 

Your mind reels at the implications, and you turn towards the windows that overlook the gardens across the street. It’s impossible to make out anything of the city beyond - no streetlights, no rustling trees - as if everything outside has been swallowed up by the soundless lightning storm. 

Everything about that thought sends your mind into overdrive as your heart races. “Does…  does that mean that I’m… dead?” 

He shrugs a disinterested shoulder, still studying his hand. “What is dead?” 

“Dead is how y-you’re a ghost.” Your words shake with mounting uncertainty. “And how I’m… I’m - where are we, anyway?” 

“Why do you assume that I have all the answers?” His words cut sharp. “Aren’t you the one with the occultist book?” 

“The book doesn’t say anything about this!” Honestly, if the incantation is going to transport you to some freakish vortex between life and death, the book should at least fucking mention it. 

If your outburst bothers Karl, he gives no visible indication. Instead, he simply lowers his hand back to his side as the corner of his mouth lifts with a sad, fond edge. “All I know is that I have not felt such warmth in well over a century.” 

Despite your unease, your brow knits as you process his words. “No? Not even when… well, assuming that you’ve walked this apartment as you are now,” you gesture at him, suddenly feeling woefully out of your depth. “Does that mean that you don’t feel physical sensation…?” 

“Not as such.” He answers softly. “But the eternal now has no physical concept, so your question is invalid.” 

“That makes no sense.” You shake your head, returning your gaze to him as you wait for him to respond. 

But neither of you speak for several long minutes. Brilliant purple-white light continues to burst out the windows, punctuated only by crackles from the fireplace and the eerie melody of distorted Christmas carols. You strain your ears to listen, just able to recognize ‘Silent Night’ despite how melancholy and dissonant the tune sounds. 

You force a swallow, continuing the conversation in his stead. “I mean - clearly, this is a physical place. I’m standing here, a-and you’re standing there. And there’s a fire, and music… and you called it his place.” You pause, blinking over at him as he stands unmoving, still just staring into the fire. “So, if I’m a guest and you’re a guest… then, whose place is this?” 

Heart-wrenching sadness eats at the lines of his handsome face despite his failing attempts to hold a stoic appearance. It ages him so young - younger than you’d initially estimated due to his deceptive facial hair. What has happened to this young man? By all accounts, he looks healthy - as if he could still be alive today. 

The muscles of his throat work around a hard swallow. “This is the home of the Audebert family. Camille Audebert, in particular.” He pinches his mouth shut as if needing a moment to collect himself. 

Concern stirs in your chest as you wrap your arms around yourself and step into the living room. “And who was... is Camille Audebert?” 

Karl’s eyes swim with firelight and distant memory. “Someone who I met on a Christmas Eve long ago. Someone who… who I had hoped to find again. But someone who died in this house before I could get here.” 

“I’m sorry to hear that.” You take another careful step forward. “How did he die?” 

“The flu of 1918 swept through Paris, sparing neither the rich or the poor, and he succumbed much like countless other victims.” 

A chill runs down your spine as your heart lodges in your throat. “The flu of 1918… that sounds unreal….” Your voice trails off as the unnerving lightning reflects off your skin and clothes. “Is that also when you… died, too?” 

“No.” He offers a weak shake of his head. “I followed… in 1919, I think it was. You’ll forgive me on the exact year…” 

You ach an incredulous brow, unable to believe it. “And you’ve been here - in this place… this apartment since 1919, give or take.” 

His heavy eyes drop closed as he bows his head solemnly. 

Your tongue runs across your top lip. “Then, why don’t you just leave?”

“That’s not how it works.” His voice chills you to the bone. “Actions on the mortal plane ripple through eternity, and a deal with the devil is just that.” 

“But you’re…,” you start as you struggle to understand. “Surely, you’re not… like a demon or something.”

“No,” he gives a short shake of his head. “But one needn’t be a demon to find themselves in hell.” 

You regard him in a moment of contemplation. Is he really trapped here? What deal has he possibly made? You exhale an uncertain sigh, hesitating until you catch yourself. For fuck’s sake, this man is a ghost – what do you really have to worry about? “So, what -” your words stick in your throat despite yourself. “How long do you have to stay here?” 

He turns an almost pitying, closed-mouth smile towards you. “Time is a mortal construct. It doesn’t exist in the eternal now. As such, I shall simply reside as I am until… until the stars turn cold, I suppose.” 

Your heart goes out to him as your gaze softens. “That sounds incredibly lonely. With no one for company.” 

“Yet, you’ve proven that it’s possible.” His brow furrows as if he just realized something that hasn’t occurred to him before. He turns towards you with his haunting, perceptive gaze. “Tell me, why did you seek this meeting tonight?” 

The intensity of his firelit gaze leaves you fumbling for words. Why exactly have you contacted him? Is it merely to satisfy your own curiosity? Is it just to vindicate your Great-Aunt? 

“And tonight, of all nights,” he continues, not unkindly as he gestures vaguely with his left hand. “I am not unfamiliar with the carols in the air, though again… to hear them so vividly now is….” He trails off with a shake of his head. 

“Vividly?” You arch a dubious brow. “It sounds like they’re playing underwater on an untuned piano.” 

“And yet all I hear is clear, harmonized perfection.” He drops his eyes closed in clear indulgence of a treat that he’s been so long denied. 

A shiver races down your spine at the thought and you can’t help but wonder. Each time that you play music in the house and enjoy tonal melodies, does he hear the sort of tuneless, distorted musical notes that you hear now? Is your presence in whatever this place is somehow letting him experience the world of the living from beyond the grave? The implications of that only make your mind spin and a distant ache blooms in your skull. You take a deep breath, massaging your temples and feeling woefully out of your depth. 

Nothing about this makes any sense – but honestly, what did you expect by using some incantation to contact a dead ghost? And now… just where the fuck do you go from here? How long are you going to stay here? How long does the incantation last? And, really, just what do you have waiting for you back on the other side tonight? 

Your gaze falls to the blazing fire for another long minute. If Karl Horstmayer is indeed dead, then why shouldn’t you just be honest? You nibble your bottom lip before speaking. “I guess it’s just…” you trail off, sighing as anxious butterflies erupt in your stomach. “It’s Christmas Eve, and I just… I didn’t want to be alone.” 

He shifts almost uneasily on his feet. At first glance in the swirls of blinding light, perhaps a blush dances high on his cheeks above his beard, but you can’t tell for sure. It does nothing to detract from his handsomeness, and an appreciative smile edges your face. 

He catches your gaze, his own pensive and analytical as he regards you. “And straddling the veil between worlds is the best way to remedy that?”

Your mouth pinches with irritation. “I… well, yes – I mean, you’ve been watching me and because I… I saw you.” You don’t want to delve into the details since - fuck, this man has seen everything that happened in your bedroom. “I saw your brown eyes - eyes of golden chocolate - just like my Great-Aunt had said.”

His eyes darken with obvious memory as the shared knowledge of the night that your bedroom mirror shattered hangs between you. Heat flares along your skin despite the fire’s warmth, gathering low in your belly under his intense scrutiny. From his words so far, the extent of his physical sensation may still be a mystery, but clearly, he isn’t emotionally unaffected by the events that took place in this house. 

You wet your top lip as your breathing quickens. “You say that the eternal now has no physical concept, yet you were able to break the mirror that night. For that was you… watching me….” 

A startlingly ashamed look crosses his face as he drops your gaze. “As only the dead can. Not one of my finer moments, I regret to say.” 

His dizzying verbal circles make your head spin, but they’re far from off-putting. “But you only feel guilty now that I’ve confronted you about it, right? Never thought you’d get caught, right? And why would you if I’m your first-ever visitor...” And, shit, the implications for the future crash down around you. As long as you stay in this house, he will be here watching you – each time you shower, eat dinner, sleep, pleasure yourself or share your bed with anyone else. Honestly, the thought should probably repulse or terrify you, but there’s something oddly… comforting about it. In the knowledge that you’ll never truly be alone. 

But what about Karl? Is he forever condemned to just watch humanity pass him by from within the confines of this apartment? “So, what does that mean, then?" You ask softly. "‘As only the dead can’…?”

“Precisely that. A spectral existence has no physical concept in the eternal now.” 

“That’s such bullshit.” You shake your head pleadingly, stepping around the couch towards him before you think better of it. “As we’ve both agreed – we’re both standing here. And you’ve felt the fire’s warmth on your skin, heard clear music – so, don’t tell me there isn’t anything physical in this moment.” You reach your hand out to his white shirt sleeve covered arm to prove your point.  

Your fingers connect with the fine fabric and solid forearm beneath, gasping as sapphire sparks burst into view and wink out with wispy trails of smoke. The scent of cedar and citrus fills your nose – and in that moment, you see everything. 

A life shrouded by the shadow of an older brother. A steadfast dedication to military service befitting a dutiful second son. A horrific world war that shatters the globe and leaves permanent scars. A forbidden, blossoming love in a snowy trench on an unexpectedly peaceful night that tragically, abruptly ends in a global pandemic. A destructive desire driving him to reunite with his beloved. 

And in that moment, when his eyes meet yours, his face blanches with the discovery of profound knowledge. As if he, too, sees everything in your life that led you to this moment as you stand with your hand on his arm somewhere between life and death. 

The breath punches from your chest as the images run through your mind and emotions boil within you. Your heart constricts yet threatens to burst, your stomach tightens with anxious knots yet lightens with hopeful anticipation. Your eyes see only him, blind to the rest of the world as you want to cling to him, to lose yourself in him, to have him lose himself inside you. 

Blood pulses through you, pooling low and needy as damp heat soaks your core. All at once, you realize how hard you’re breathing, stunned and reeling. 

You force a swallow as dizziness consumes you. “I don’t… I don’t know what’s happening.” 

He gives a slow, bewildered shake of his head, obviously just as speechless as he gasps for breath alongside you. With your mind awash in a sea of unfamiliar memories and new sensations, your hand trails up his forearm, almost disappointed that more sparks don’t appear. You raise your other hand to his chest, both exhaling long moans when you press your palm flat over the woolen waistcoat. A shower of deep blue sparks rain down around your hand as more of that intoxicating scent suffuses the air. 

You struggle for breath as a fresh wave of heat surges through you, touching the essence of your being. It extends beyond physical or emotional, as if… as if his spirit touches yours, speaking in a language that you don’t understand yet comprehend implicitly. And god, just listen to yourself, but your brain - and body - are truly too far gone to care. His warm, heavy hand falls against the small of your back, and you arch against the touch with a soft cry on your lips. 

Electricity jolts through you, driving you closer in his embrace, overwhelmed at the onslaught of sensation erupting from his touch. Everything about the moment compels you closer to him, each touch igniting more sparks and reaching some deep-rooted part of your soul that belongs only to him. 

Your lips fuse together in an intoxicating haze as that delicious scent wraps around you and sapphire light gleams beyond your closed eyelids. He can’t be close enough to you as tongues tangle and you cling to the solid, sturdy build of shoulders. His broad hands find your hips, pulling you flush against him - body to body, soul to soul. 

He needs to be closer - so much closer - and your hands tear at his tie, his vest, his shirt buttons. The heat of the fire is a distant memory compared to the scorching touch of his skin as your own clothing falls away with wisps of smoke and showers of sapphire starbursts. Everywhere he touches draws you helplessly towards him as he dissolves into you and pulls you down to the plush, thick rug in front of the fire. 

Your legs wrap around his waist with mindless instinct, driven only to connect with him in the most intimate way as your soul demands. Breath leaves you and sanity abandons you as he slides deep into your core, piercing your heart and soul as he buries himself in your heat. His groans drown against your lips as smoke and sparks shroud the frenzied rocking of his hips and he drives himself to fill you completely. 

Unrecognizable cries leave your lips, echoing in the void as you take everything he gives you and surrender yourself completely. The crescendo builds with unstoppable intensity as you claw at his back, tasting the salt on his neck and relishing the burn of his beard on your skin. A moan tears from you as you convulse around him, and a heavy force claws at the very essence of your being, shearing something inside you as euphoric ecstasy pulls you under. 

The deafening roar of his own release mixes with your deafening cry as blood pounds in your ears. Your vision swims in hazy light as your body drifts away from you, and you struggle to breathe under the gnawing sensation. His solid weight against you fades as darkness eats at the corners of your mind, and you feebly cling to him with all that you possess. 

His lips ghost against yours as your hands fall slack and thought abandons you completely. 

You blink awake, foggy headed and bleary eyed. Desperate to ignore the throbbing pain in your skull, you squint against the bright, invasive morning sunlight – Christmas morning sunlight – and don’t know what to think. Especially as you become aware of three things in quick succession.

One – the thick living room rug scratches and itches against your bare skin. A dark blue blanket covers you, surprisingly soft by contrast to the rug but completely unfamiliar to you. You grip it close, aware that it’s the only thing shielding your naked body from the clear windows. 

Two – you feel absolutely drained. As if you haven’t slept or eaten in days, or maybe both. Your minimal movements against the rug are sluggish and uncoordinated as you continue to wake up and come back to yourself. Quite obviously, whatever you experienced last night has taken a heavy toll. 

Three – you aren’t alone. A larger, broader, obviously nude and obviously male body presses against your backside as you lay against the uncomfortable carpet. You scrub a hand over your face, trying to wipe away the cobwebs and not disturb your slumbering bedmate. 

Good god, what had actually happened last night? With fleeting clarity, you remember the lightning-drenched living room, the uncanny golden chocolate eyes, and the scorching pleasure – but now faced with the cold light of dawn, has any of that actually been real? Or did you really just knock back one too many cocktails, pick up a guy, and lose yourself in delusional fantasy?

You groan, stretching against the carpet and catching a glimpse at your smartwatch. Fuck, it’s already so late. With another groan, dreading the inevitable awkwardness of saying goodbye to a one-nightstand that you don’t even clearly remember, you roll over and prepare to face your fate. 

You jump in surprise against the blanket, shocked to see two golden chocolate eyes blinking blearily back at you. Your heart pounds as you stare at Karl’s familiar features and bearded face as he lays beside you with dark swirls of his chest hair just visible above the blanket’s edge. 

You gape, unable to believe it. “What the hell are you doing here?!”

“Here?” He groans, looking back at you in equally growing confusion. “What is… why are you here?”

“Why am I here?” You parrot back, gripping the blanket close, hyper-aware of both your naked bodies beneath the navy fabric. “This is my house, and you’re the dead ghost, and…” Your words trail off as your mouth fails to keep up with your raging thoughts. Does this mean that you have died, too? Are you now condemned to stay in this house with him for eternity? 

A car horn blares outside the window, drawing your startled gaze. How does that make any sense? If you are dead, then why are you able to hear a car plain as day? You force a hard swallow as you try to think through the sluggish fog in your head. Maybe you aren’t dead, after all, but instead, maybe he is… does it make sense for him to be… alive? 

But, seriously… have you somehow fucked him back to life? However crass and ridiculous that sounds. Is that why those strange, sapphire sparks had ignited between you? Has your life force somehow rejuvenated his own...? 

Your head hurts too much for such mind-bending thoughts. Slowly, you turn back to him, catching his gaze as he studies you with equal bewilderment. His mouth pinches to a tight, hesitant line as he obviously considers a thought. 

Tentatively, he reaches a hand forward, brushing the back of his knuckles along your forearm. No blue sparks or blue glow emanate from his gentle caress, but a low, thrumming rhythm grows in your blood. You gasp as the beating pulse aligns with the cadence of your own heartbeat, reverberating in tandem harmony. “Is that…,” you ask in a breathless whisper, “your heartbeat?” 

His own breathing stutters as the contact lingers, and he twists his wrist to wrap his fingers around your forearm. “It’s your heartbeat, it has to be…” he whispers reverentially. “Mine stopped beating so long ago….” 

“Then, why are you here?” Heat sings in your veins as your body recognizes its missing half - the answer to make you whole, body and soul. 

He pulls his hand back, and the cloying sensations instantly dull. You’re still drained beyond comprehension and in serious need of sustenance, but whatever his touch has just ignited begins to fade without the sustained physical contact. 

Just what the fuck have you done? Are you somehow forever bound to him? And him to you? How would you ever know? And is that what you really want? What about the rest of your life? What about the rest of his life? At least, now that he seems to have one again…. 

He shakes his head, sighing heavily. “We may never know the answer. But before we start trying to figure it out,” his face softens as the corner of his mouth lifts. “I guess there’s only one thing to be said.” 

“Oh? And what’s that?” 

He fixes his golden chocolate eyes to yours, and… okay, maybe seeing those eyes every morning wouldn’t be so bad. A smile tugs at your mouth as you stare at him, hearing his accented words wrap around you and echo with the fading thrum of his twin heartbeat. “It’s not my holiday… but Merry Christmas, Liebling.”

[theopulenthq]

Welcome to The Opulent HQ, Lia, Carina, Ghost, Julieta, Pink, Amy, Cathy, Ari, and Elisa! Please review the checklist and send in your account within 24 hours!

NOTE: with this acceptance, we are once again at mun cap & will not be accepting any new members until future notice!

{max irons, thirty-seven, male, he/him} We are so glad to see you safe, HEAD OF THE CITY GUARD PHILLIP WALSH of CARDIFF! It’s dangerous out in the world these days, but I hear that you are SAUVE and GALLANT enough to handle it. Just don’t let your AVARICE bring you down! Stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU’RE ACTIVELY PLANNING A COUP AND HAVE ALREADY AMASSED SUPPORT AND LOYALTY, MOSTLY FROM WITHIN THE GUARD. {lia, 29, est, she/her}

{sean teal,34, male, he/him} we are so glad to see you safe, MINISTER OF JUSTICE/PRINCE MATTHIAS RENEE DE LORRAINE of GERMANY(LUXEMBOURG)! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are VALOROUS and ADROIT enough to handle it. just don’t let your SELF SACRIFICING bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU ARE THE PRODUCT OF A LOVE AFFAIR, ONLY RECENTLY DISCOVERING THAT THE MAN YOU BELIEVED TO BE YOUR FATHER ISN’T YOUR BIOLOGICAL FATHER.  {carina}

liesel's betrothal wc

{melisa asli pamuk, 34, ciswoman, she/her} we are so glad to see you safe, ATHENA'S TEMPLE MEMBER LADY SAFIYE ARSLAN of ATHENS! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are INTUITIVE and FAITHFUL enough to handle it. just don’t let your TREACHEROUS NATURE bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU SOLD VALUABLE TURKISH MILITARY SECRETS TO SECURE THE TRUST OF YOUR NEW HOME; AND IN DOING SO, HELPED TO PREVENT A MAJOR ATTACK PLANNED BEFORE THE RECKONING. {ghostie}

timur's estrangled sibling + nikolai's broken betrothal wcs

{josé ramón barreto, 32, cisman, he/him} we are so glad to see you safe, ROYAL ADVISOR/CROWN PRINCE IGNACIO MATÍAS FALCÓ of BRAZIL(VENEZUELA)! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are CHARISMATIC and AMBITIONS enough to handle it. just don’t let your RUTHLESSNESS bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOUR ADVISORS HAVE GRANTED YOU ONLY A YEAR TO SELECT A SPOUSE WHO WILL STAND BY YOUR SIDE AS YOUR CONSORT WHEN YOU ASCENDS TO THE THRONE.

winifred's romantic wc

{cote de pablo, fourty-four, cis female, she/her} we are so glad to see you safe, DEBT COLLECTOR + MERCENARY DUCHESS LUCIA DIAZ of FLORENCE ( CHILE ) ! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are HARDWORKING and BRASH enough to handle it. just don’t let your RAGE bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOUR METHODS TEND TO BE FATAL & YOU HOLD NO REMORSE. {pink}

{Manny Jacinto, 37, cismale, he/him} We are so glad to see you safe, PRINCE LORENZO TOLENTINO OF CHINA! It’s dangerous out in the world these days, but I hear that you are DEVOTED and SENTIMENTAL enough to handle it. Just don’t let your INSECURITY bring you down! Stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU ASSASSINATED THE CHINESE EMPEROR. {amy, 24, PST}

{Katie mcgrath, 39, cis fem, she/her} we are so glad to see you safe, HIGH QUEEN CATRIONA STUART of SCOTLAND! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are SELF-ASSURED and CHARMING enough to handle it. just don’t let your SECRETIVENESS bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU MADE A PROMISE TO MARRY YOUR LONG TERM LOVER BUT INSTEAD AGREED TO A NO-MARRIAGE PACT WITH YOUR SIBLINGS. {cathy, 26, est, she/her, none}

{Steve toussaint, 59, cismale, he/him} we are so glad to see you safe, KING HARALD OLDENBURG of NORWAY! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are RESILIENT and ENDURING enough to handle it. just don’t let your MADNESS bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU ARE SLIPPING IN AND OUT OF LUCIDITY AND ARE NOT SURE IF YOU SHOULD ABDICATE. {cathy, 26, est, she/her, none}

{Li Landi, 27, cis female, she/her} we are so glad to see you safe, VICEREGAL MEILIN FENG of HONG KONG! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are MESMERIZING and COMPETENT enough to handle it. just don’t let your HAUGHTINESS bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU DO NOT APPROVE OF YOUR BETROTHAL AND MAY REBEL TO END IT. {ari, 29, est, she/her}

tian feng's betrothed wc

{mimi keene,25, she, she/her} we are so glad to see you safe, (ADOPTED) PRINCESS ESME GLYNDWR of CARDIFF! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are DETERMINED and COMPASSIONATE enough to handle it. just don’t let your ARROGANCE bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU HAVE BEEN HAVING PROPHETIC DREAMS BUT YOU KEEP THEM HIDDEN TO AVOID BEING ACCUSED OF WITCHCRAFT OR MADNESS. {elisa, 27, est, she/her}

{abigail cowen, 26, she, she/her} we are so glad to see you safe, PRINCESS AMALIA HATZFELD of GERMANY! it’s dangerous out in the world these days, but i hear that you are INTUITIVE and POISED enough to handle it. just don’t let your QUIXOTIC bring you down! stay on your guard, because with your secret being at risk for exposure, you wouldn’t want everyone to find out YOU OCCASIONALLY ADOPT A SECRET IDENTITY TO MOVE AMONG THE COMMON PEOPLE {elisa, 27, est, she/her}

[jubaer01]

FOR NORWEGIAN CITIZENS - CANADA Government of Canada Electronic Travel Authority - Canada ETA - Online Canada Visa

Canadas regjeringsvisumsøknad, online Canada-visumsøknadssenter

Address: Schultzgt. 1 , N-7013 Trondheim , Norway

Phone: +47 73 80 21 50

Email: contactus@canadavisasonline.com

Website: https://www.canada-visas.org/no/visa/ 

Business Hours : 24/7/365

Owner / Official Contact Name: Ram Singh Haas

Description: Hva er et kanadisk elektronisk online visum eller ETA eller elektronisk reisemyndighet. En elektronisk reisemyndighet ETA er en innreiseforutsetning for de borgere som IKKE trenger papirstempel Visa med andre ord visumservitører som skal til Canada via fly. Et elektronisk reisebyrå er elektronisk koblet til passet ditt. Det er et kortsiktig visum for Canada. Den er gyldig i fem år eller til passet ditt utløper, avhengig av hva som kommer først. Hvis passet ditt blir tapt, stjålet eller skadet eller fornyet, må du søke om et annet online Canada Visa eller ETA. Med et gyldig online Canada Visa eller Electronic Travel Authority kan du fly til Canada flere ganger for korte opphold (vanligvis så lenge som 180 dager eller seks måneder per besøk). Når du dukker opp på grensen til flyplassen, vil en tjenestemann be om å se din e-postkopi av Canada ETA eller Online Canada Visa og også sjekke passet ditt. Hva du skal ta med til flyplassen når du får godkjent online Canada-visum, hold e-posten eller utskriften tilgjengelig. Passet ditt må samsvare med ditt online Canada Visa eller Electronic Travel Authority, det vil være koblet til visumet du brukte til å søke. Flyselskapets ansatte vil gjennomgå visumet ditt eller ETA for å bekrefte at du har en legitim kanadisk elektronisk reisemyndighet. Sørg for at du bærer det originale passet, hvis du har flere pass, ta med passet som er koblet til ditt kanadiske ETA eller Online Canada Visa. Hold deg unna problemer ved flyterminalen. Når din elektroniske reisemyndighet er godkjent og godkjent, må du sørge for at identifikasjonsnummeret som er nevnt for godkjennings-e-posten for elektronisk reisebyrå samsvarer med nummeret på passsiden din. I tilfelle de ikke stemmer overens, må du igjen søke om en annen elektronisk reisemyndighet for Canada eller Online Canada Visa. Statsborgere og innbyggere i følgende land er kvalifisert til å søke om online kanadisk visum eller ETA, Polen, Kroatia, Storbritannia i utlandet, Spania, Norge, Sveits, Israel, Litauen, Slovenia, Caymanøyene, Belgia, Sør-Korea, New Zealand, Romania, Malta, Taiwan, Luxembourg, Danmark, Bahamas, Barbados, Samoa, Frankrike, Hong Kong, Br. Virgin Is., Hellas, Nederland, Finland, Australia, Singapore, Papua Ny-Guinea, Tyskland, Østerrike, Mexico, Vatikanstaten, Storbritannia, Kypros, Irland, Chile, Island, Latvia, Salomonøyene, Ungarn, Japan, Portugal, Montserrat, Slovakia, Sverige, Bulgaria, San Marino, Liechtenstein, Brunei, Andorra, Monaco, Tsjekkia, Estland, Italia og Anguilla.  What is a Canadian electronic Online Visa or ETA or Electronic Travel Authority. An Electronic Travel Authority ETA is a entry prerequisite for those citizens who do NOT require paper stamp Visa in other words visa waiter  nationals going to Canada via Airplance. An Electronic Travel Authority is electronically connected to your Passport. It is a short term Visa for Canada. It is valid for period of five years or until your Passport expires,  whichever is sooner. If your passport is lost, stolen or damaged or renewed, then you need to apply another Online Canada Visa or ETA. With a valid Online Canada Visa or  Electronic Travel Authority, you can fly  out to Canada multiple times for short stays (ordinarily for as long as a 180 days or six months per visit). At the point when you show up on the border of Airport, an official will request to see your Email copy of Canada ETA or Online Canada Visa and also check your passport.  What to bring to the airport when you get Approved Online Canada Visa, keep the soft copy email or printout handy. Your passport must match you Online Canada Visa or Electronic Travel Authority, it will be connected to the visa you used to apply.

The airline employees  will review  your visa or ETA to confirm  that you have a legitimate Canadian Electronic Travel Authority.  Ensure that you carry the original passport, if you have multiple passports, then carry the passport that is connected to your Canadian ETA or Online Canada Visa. Keep away from problems at the air terminal, When your Electronic Travel Authority is approved and endorsed, make sure that the identification number mentioned for your Electronic Travel Authority approval email matches the number in your Passport Page. In the event that they don't align and match, you must again apply for another Electronic Travel Authority for Canada or Online Canada Visa. Citizens and Residents of the following countries are eligible to apply for Online Canadian Visa or ETA, Poland, Croatia, British overseas, Spain, Norway, Switzerland, Israel, Lithuania, Slovenia, Cayman Islands, Belgium, South Korea, New Zealand, Romania, Malta, Taiwan, Luxembourg, Denmark, Bahamas, Barbados, Samoa, France, Hong Kong, Br. Virgin Is., Greece, Netherlands, Finland, Australia, Singapore, Papua New Guinea, Germany, Austria, Mexico, Vatican City State, United Kingdom, Cyprus, Ireland, Chile, Iceland, Latvia, Solomon Islands, Hungary, Japan, Portugal, Montserrat, Slovakia, Sweden, Bulgaria, San Marino, Liechtenstein, Brunei, Andorra, Monaco, Czech Republic, Estonia, Italy and Anguilla. 

[wosocomix]

Dazn unlimited is 29,99€

Dazn Standard is 19,99€, Bundesliga, UEFA Champions League, NFL, NBA and more

Dazn World is 9,99€, Football, Darts, Handball and more

all of them per Month and in Germany

The picture is for the Countries Austria, Switzerland, Liechtenstein, and Luxembourg. In the left per year and on the right, the prices per month.

Oh, handball. I would love to watch handball honestly.

I see that the packs are different from place to place, interesting.

Like we have this:

With the Start plan I could only watch the UWCL. And if I do one the other two options Serie A Fem is included (not all of the games are available though).

It's pretty much useless to spend 13 euros only for a few Uwcl games so I'll wait. Maybe there will be more woso contents at the end of the year/start 2024.

[gohe1090]

Maybe c1 or d1 with female Luxembourg?

Haha, first time drawing any form of Luxembourg~ What a cutie ❤⃛ヾ(๑❛ ▿ ◠๑ )

[rae-does-stuff]

My Hetalia Opinions

So I decided to put some of my Hetalia opinions in a part. I'm also not really sure if my opinions are unpopular so I didn't put that in the title. This is just a misc. part I'm doing because why not?

* The Balance of Belarus's personality

So as a person who ships Russia with someone I've seen my fair share of Belarus portrayals when she find out that her brother doesn't want to marry her but rather get with someone else. Now I dislike it when they make her too docile and okay with it but I also dislike it when people make her too angry and violent about it. I think there needs to be a balance between docile and violence, though I have no clue how one would go about doing it.

* Hungary and her yuri ships

I have a feeling this won't sit well with some people... but I'll just say it

I like Hungary but I also feel like she's the only character with yuri ships out there? I have nothing against Hungary or the people that do ship Hungary's yuri ships but there are other yuri ships without Hungary, like SeyMona (It's not incest) and TaiViet (A personal favorite of mine). But they're both a bit rare.

* Canada isn't really invisible (at least in the fandom)

I can already feel the Canada stans breathing down my back scrutinizing everything I say from this moment forward. But I stand by my opinion of Canada being too popular (in fandom) to be considered invisible. We always remember him as "the poor invisible bean" who "needs more attention" but really he already has a lot of attention from the fandom. I like Canada as much as the next person but I wish other characters got attention too. So in short, as I said earlier, Canada is way too popular to be considered invisible. (I still like his character though)

* Fem!Switzerland and Fem!Poland

So Hima initially designed Switzerland and Poland as girls but they later evolved into the characters we see today. I honestly would've liked seeing these two characters as girls and I think their interactions with other countries would be really interesting. I still like Poland and Switzerland as they are now but the missed potential of having those two as girls is killing me. Fun Fact: Korea was going to be a girl too. So was Luxembourg (Or there were female designs for Luxembourg)

Now those are all the opinions I'm willing to share but thanks for reading and I hope you have a nice day.

Cya on the flip side

- Rae 💜🖤

[ask-fem-netherlands-blog]

Another doodle dump! Because of the previous post, I have a sudden urge to draw the nyo!Low Countries with their condition in 1500s.

Reason why I draw Netherlands crossdressing is, because she wants to join the revolt... but she can’t. William of Orange know that she is the representative of The Netherlands, and allow her to join... but you know. Society denies it. So she have to do it anyway. A little headcanon for ya.

[tulip-and-plum]

APH Rare Pair Week 2021

Day 2-Royalty

Pairing: Luxembourg/Nyo!Hong Kong

In her first day of school, Ling meets Henri, a very charming and kind boy.

“Is he a prince?” she wondered.

[odi-olio]

8/29 22:00より 開催 お題色：Hunting pink【F30100】 #ヘタリア真剣お絵かき60分勝負

yes i know it’s crack. still love em.

i simply ship any characters that i love to other character that i love tho. hahhaa

make two version because i feel kinda weird with bright colour. also my handwriting is better? hahaha

anyway COMMISSION OPEN <3

[nethwan]

Por favor, mantenme en tu mente

Hetaween 2019

25/10 - Pumpkin, Grave...

Nota: Esta es una historia que quería escribir desde el año pasado, pero no encontraba una manera de empezar.

Está inspirada en el episodio “El relato de la chica de sus sueños” (The Tale of the Dream Girl) de la serie ¿Le temes a la oscuridad? (Are You Afraid of the Dark?). 

El título viene de la canción “Well I Wonder” de The Smiths. 

Mei-Taiwan, Lars-Holanda, Ling-Nyo Hong Kong, Henri-Luxemburgo 

Otros links: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21138143/chapters/50397365

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13415688/3/Hetaween-2019

________________________

Una noche, un ruido despertó a Ling; se levantó y vio que se trataba de Mei, su hermana mayor que aún estaba despierta y miraba por la ventana. La luz de la luna le daba en el rostro. Ling pensó que se veía todavía más bella que de costumbre, pero también increíblemente melancólica y por un momento pensó que estaba soñando.

"¿Qué pasa?" le preguntó Ling.

"No es nada, es solo que siento como si me faltara algo, pero no sé qué es"

Esto dejó preocupada a Ling, porque ella sabía qué era y le resultaba doloroso tener que explicarle. Aunque ni siquiera sabía por dónde empezar, al pensar en una explicación, resultaba como una historia inverosímil. Sin embargo, Mei no continuó con su interrogatorio personal. Se acostó al lado de su hermana, como hacían cuando eran pequeñas y alguna de las dos tenía miedo. Ling la observó de nuevo, Mei aún tenía esa fea cicatriz en la cabeza.

A la mañana siguiente, Ling estuvo muy pensativa en la escuela. Henri lo notó y quiso saber la causa. A partir del accidente de su hermano mayor, Ling y Henri se habían hecho muy cercanos, pues compartían el mismo dolor y era más fácil sobrellevarlo, pero esta vez, no quiso hacerlo participe de lo que Mei le había contado.

"Ling, acabo de tener un sueño muy extraño. Un muchacho me llamaba y quería que me fuera con él. Nunca lo había visto, pero era muy apuesto, y por alguna razón su presencia me hizo sentir más tranquila" le contó Mei.

Su hermana menor la abrazó, era muy raro para ella mostrar su afecto de ese modo, pero a Mei no le importó. Ling sabía que tarde o temprano tendría que contarle toda la verdad.  Además, los sueños seguían siendo frecuentes. Mei no dejaba de hablar de ello cada mañana, despertaba con una sonrisa y las mejillas sonrosadas, ilusionada por el descubrimiento del amor.

"Es muy alto, rubio, tiene una cicatriz en la frente. Se ve muy serio e intimidante, pero no me asusta, hay algo de dulzura en sus ojos. Además se llama Lars. No me lo ha dicho, simplemente lo sé" dijo enigmática.

Ling quería hablar con alguien acerca de toda esa situación, pero no sabía con quién. Pensó en Henri, sin embargo no se sentía capaz de sacar el tema otra vez. No era como si siguieran sumidos en el congoja de la pérdida, pero tal vez sería muy doloroso para él hablar de aquel trágico día, de cómo Mei soñaba con Lars sin recordarlo, sin saber qué había pasado.

Henri la observaba, pensando que ocultaba algo, algo que ni él mismo podría ayudarle a resolver.

"Volví a soñar con él. Siento como si me llamara. Quiero verlo de nuevo" dijo Mei desesperada.

"No. Mei, no lo hagas. Es una locura"

“¿Por qué no?”

“Porque…” Ling apretó los puños, tenía que decirle de una vez. “Porque él está muerto…”

Mei la miró extrañada por esa repentina respuesta, no quiso creerle, pero Ling le contó que ese muchacho llevaba muerto un año a causa de un accidente automovilístico. Mei se sentó en la cama tratando de asimilar la noticia, pero volvió a tener la determinación de buscarlo.

"De todas formas, quiero saber por qué me llama. Tal vez necesita algo y por eso no puede descansar"

Entonces, Mei salió de la habitación, dispuesta a resolver el misterio. Ella siempre había sido tan determinada e impulsiva que cuando una idea se le metía a la cabeza no había poder humano que pudiera detenerla. Ling se quedó allí, sin reaccionar, ya sabía a dónde se dirigía, pero al salir no la encontró. Se subió a su auto y cuando estaba por ponerlo en marcha, Henri apareció.

"¿A dónde vas?"

"Al cementerio"

"Te acompaño" dijo sin dudar.

Esta vez, Ling no se rehusó. Sabía que iba a necesitarlo, además, tal vez merecía tener conocimiento de lo que estaba pasando. Él no le hizo ninguna pregunta, solo se dejó llevar. Cuando llegaron, Ling se adelantó y encontró a Mei contemplando una tumba, mientras acariciaba la fría lápida. Lloraba desconsolada.

"¿Por qué no me dijiste?" dijo ella, señalando  la lápida donde rezaba: Lars Janssen y Xiao-Mei Wang, juntos por la eternidad.

"¿Cómo podría? No tuve el valor de hacerlo, además te extrañaba mucho" sollozó Ling.

Mei se acercó a su hermana menor, le acarició el cabello, mientras ambas lloraban. Henri se quedó paralizado, no sabía qué decir ni podía procesar lo que sus ojos veían.

"Ling, dime qué pasó, por favor. Yo no recuerdo nada"

"Lars era tu novio, ustedes eran tan felices. Una tarde, salieron a pasear, como siempre, en su auto. Un conductor ebrio chocó contra ustedes empujándolos hacía el lago..."

Mei cerró los ojos, las imágenes que vinieron a su mente fueron muy claras. Era de noche, Lars tuvo que detenerse a mitad del puente porque el auto no funcionaba más, entonces notó un auto que venía a toda velocidad, pero ya no pudieron salir, los impactó con tal fuerza provocando que cayeran al lago. Mientras se iban hundiendo, con las pocas fuerzas que les quedaban, trataron de tomarse de la mano y después ya no supieron más de sí mismos.

En ese momento, apareció el muchacho de sus sueños. Se veía tranquilo y feliz. Mei entonces recobró su seguridad y supo que era él quien le hacía falta. Por fin sentía esa paz que había estado buscando.

"¿Lars?" preguntó Henri reaccionando por fin, sin creer todavía lo que estaba presenciando. Se acercó y abrazó a su hermano. Nunca pensó que volvería a verlo. No pudo evitar llorar por la emoción del reencuentro y saber que se encontraba descansando en un lugar mejor.

"Ya, ya. Estoy bien" le dijo con una tranquilidad que en vida nunca mostró.

"¿En verdad deben irse? Lars, hay tanto que quisiera contarte…"

“No te preocupes, algún día volveremos a vernos” anunció Lars, con seguridad.

"Así es, además nosotros ya no pertenecemos a este mundo" dijo Mei. Después miró a Ling y la abrazó por última vez.

"Adiós, hermanita. Vive y sé feliz" 

Ling asintió, dejándola ir. Henri se acercó para reconfortarla, tenían tantas emociones juntas que era difícil decir si se sentían felices por haberlos visto de nuevo o tristes porque debían despedirse luego de tan breve visita.

Lars tomó a Mei de la mano. Y ella por fin pudo sentirse a salvo cerca de él y recordar cuánto lo seguía amando. Se miraron con la misma ternura que cuando estaban vivos y desaparecieron siguiendo una luz que la otra pareja no pudo percibir. Pero tenían la certeza de  que algún día volverían a reunirse.

[tulipandplum]

hws Rare Pair Week 2022

@hwsrarepairweek2022

Day 7 - Fantasy

Pairing: Luxembourg/Nyo! Hong Kong

In which Luxembourg is a charming prince and nyo Hong Kong is a brave knight... In a fantasy role play they are playing online.

[starsilversword]

This took me a while to make, mostly because I didn't have time, but it's finally finished. Nyo!Luxembourg. She is just enjoying a nice mug of hot chocolate.

[jubaer01]

CANADA Government of Canada Electronic Travel Authority

Canadas regering visumansøgning, online Canada visumansøgningscenter

Address : Christiansgade 70, 5000 Odense C., Denmark

Phone : +45 65 32 28 45

Email : info@canadavisaonline.org

Website : https://www.canada-visa-online.com/da/visa/

Business Hours : 24/7/365

Owner / Official Contact Name :Ram Singh  Haas

Description :Hvad er et canadisk elektronisk onlinevisum eller ETA eller elektronisk rejsemyndighed. En elektronisk rejsemyndighed ETA er en indrejseforudsætning for de borgere, der IKKE kræver papirstempel Visa med andre ord visumtjenerstatsborgere, der skal til Canada via flyvemaskine. En elektronisk rejsemyndighed er elektronisk forbundet med dit pas. Det er et korttidsvisum til Canada. Det er gyldigt i en periode på fem år eller indtil dit pas udløber, alt efter hvad der kommer først. Hvis dit pas er tabt, stjålet eller beskadiget eller fornyet, skal du ansøge om et andet online Canada Visa eller ETA. Med et gyldigt online Canada Visa eller Electronic Travel Authority kan du flyve til Canada flere gange for korte ophold (normalt så længe som 180 dage eller seks måneder pr. besøg). På det tidspunkt, hvor du dukker op på grænsen til lufthavnen, vil en embedsmand anmode om at se din e-mail-kopi af Canada ETA eller Online Canada Visa og også tjekke dit pas. Hvad du skal medbringe til lufthavnen, når du får godkendt online Canada-visum, skal du have den bløde e-mail eller udskrift ved hånden. Dit pas skal matche dit Online Canada Visa eller Electronic Travel Authority, det vil være forbundet med det visum, du brugte til at ansøge. Flyselskabets medarbejdere vil gennemgå dit visum eller ETA for at bekræfte, at du har en legitim canadisk elektronisk rejsemyndighed. Sørg for, at du medbringer det originale pas, hvis du har flere pas, skal du bære det pas, der er forbundet med dit canadiske ETA eller online Canada Visa. Hold dig væk fra problemer ved flyterminalen. Når din Electronic Travel Authority er godkendt og godkendt, skal du sørge for, at identifikationsnummeret, der er nævnt for din Electronic Travel Authority-godkendelses-e-mail, svarer til nummeret på din passide. I tilfælde af at de ikke stemmer overens, skal du igen ansøge om en anden elektronisk rejsemyndighed for Canada eller online Canada-visum. Borgere og indbyggere i følgende lande er berettiget til at ansøge om online canadisk visum eller ETA, Polen, Kroatien, Storbritannien i udlandet, Spanien, Norge, Schweiz, Israel, Litauen, Slovenien, Caymanøerne, Belgien, Sydkorea, New Zealand, Rumænien, Malta, Taiwan, Luxembourg, Danmark, Bahamas, Barbados, Samoa, Frankrig, Hong Kong, Br. Virgin Is., Grækenland, Holland, Finland, Australien, Singapore, Papua Ny Guinea, Tyskland, Østrig, Mexico, Vatikanstaten, Storbritannien, Cypern, Irland, Chile, Island, Letland, Salomonøerne, Ungarn, Japan, Portugal, Montserrat, Slovakiet, Sverige, Bulgarien, San Marino, Liechtenstein, Brunei, Andorra, Monaco, Tjekkiet, Estland, Italien og Anguilla.  What is a Canadian electronic Online Visa or ETA or Electronic Travel Authority. An Electronic Travel Authority ETA is a entry prerequisite for those citizens who do NOT require paper stamp Visa in other words visa waiter  nationals going to Canada via Airplance. An Electronic Travel Authority is electronically connected to your Passport. It is a short term Visa for Canada. It is valid for period of five years or until your Passport expires,  whichever is sooner. If your passport is lost, stolen or damaged or renewed, then you need to apply another Online Canada Visa or ETA. With a valid Online Canada Visa or  Electronic Travel Authority, you can fly  out to Canada multiple times for short stays (ordinarily for as long as a 180 days or six months per visit). At the point when you show up on the border of Airport, an official will request to see your Email copy of Canada ETA or Online Canada Visa and also check your passport.  What to bring to the airport when you get Approved Online Canada Visa, keep the soft copy email or printout handy. Your passport must match you Online Canada Visa or Electronic Travel Authority, it will be connected to the visa you used to apply. The airline employees  will review  your visa or ETA to confirm  that you have a legitimate Canadian Electronic Travel Authority.

[buckybleu]

❣︎ before paris ❣︎

pairing: artist(painter)!Shangqi/Shang-Chi x fem!reader

summary: A train ride to Paris leaves a painter to meet his muse.

warnings: fluff; just a good ol' fashion love story blooming

A/N: Sorry it's been awhile since I've written or posted anything. But we're back and this time for @tom-whore-dleston 500 followers writing challenge (congrats again babe 💖). It is inspired by the opening scenes of "Before Sunrise", one my favorite romance movie (along with the rest of the Before trilogy). I hope you enjoy, happy reading! 🎨

**Please do check out the rest of her 500 followers writing challenge masterlist, so many other amazing stories have also been submitted.

word count: 1.9k

reblogs/likes/comments are greatly appreciated! ❤️

The French countryside passes you like a blurry dream, one you wish you could recall every detail to daydream the coming night. The window creaks as the train speeds across the tracks; the shaking and rumbling nearly lull you to sleep, the words inked in the book in front of you slowly forgotten. Aside from the soft vibrations of the train, loud voices of a couple seated in the booth beside you, keep you awake. A couple no older than 45, quarrel with one another. Your three years of high school French picks up bits and pieces of their argument.

Something about missing the correct stop and airplane tickets. Your body jumps when the woman bolts from her seat and starts towards the next carriage, her husband following quickly behind. Their scene doesn’t go unnoticed, their harsh tones definitely disrupting other passengers. Your pointer finger plays with the corner of the page, eyes focused on the city coming into view, mesmerized by its beauty.

“Je suis désolé de vous déranger. Puis-je avoir ce siège?” You turn your head, only be met with warm, honey eyes. A man with dark fluffy hair gives you a gentle smile. He’s dressed in a white shirt and onyx pants speckled with colorful paint, an olive blouson jacket tied around his waist. He has a sketchbook tucked under his arm while a distressed, caramel leather satchel sits on top of his shoulder.

You offer him an apologetic smile, “Oh, I’m sorry. I don’t speak french.”

“Sorry, uhm. Is it okay for me to sit here? A couple was arguing in the other carriage and I couldn’t focus.”

“Of course, please.” You move your bag onto the floor by your feet, as the stranger settles in beside you. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“I’m Shangqi, nice to meet you.” When you shake his hand, you notice the graphite staining knuckles and side of his palm. “So, where are you heading?”

“Not sure if I’m being honest. I might stay in Paris for a bit. Maybe take a train to Brussels, possibly Luxembourg too.” You recline into your seat and turn towards Shangqi, “And you?”

There’s a strange magnetic pull towards you that Shangqi can’t put his finger on. Maybe it’s the way how freely you answered him; no schedule or agenda to dictate your travel, no worries to anchor you down. How effortlessly beautiful you appear in a soft periwinkle sweater and denim skirt. If he didn’t know any better, you were an angel sent by the heavens to grace the earth.

“Paris.” It’s the only answer he’s able to give, still beguiled by you. He shakes himself from your trance when you ask him what’s his plan there. “I’m a painter. My work is being showcased at an art gallery.”

“You must be a big-time artist if you have a whole art gallery dedicated to your work.” Your tone isn’t condescending but genuine and intriguing.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say anything big. Just a painter.” Heat dusts across Shangqi’s cheeks, unable to fully accept your compliment.

You offer him a reassuring smile, “Painters are artists, no? Artists in their own unique creativity and medium. I think you’re being too humble. I’m positive whatever is being showcased, is amazing.”

“You seem so sure for someone who’s never seen any of my work.” Shangqi’s laugh is light and music to your ears. It’s a sound that you wished you could hear everyday for the rest of your life. Every morning when you wake up and every night before you go to sleep.

“Show me then.”

○•*•○※○•*•○※○•*•○※○

For the remainder of the train ride, Shangqi shows you every piece in his sketchbook, photos of his previous gallery in San Francisco and New York, and enthusiastically retells the story of how he accidentally spilled a gallon of neon pink paint on best friend. There’s no awkward pause, just laughter and banter between one another. For two people who have only known each other for 25 minutes, they gazed and conversed like they’ve known each other for 25 years. Old pals catching up.

“Alright, I feel like we’ve talked enough about me. Let’s talk about you” Shangqi proposes. You and Shangqi had moved the conversation to the dining car, an espresso sitting in front of the both of you. The dining car is a bit more lively; other passengers chat while sipping on tea or munch on pastries and sandwiches.

You set down your cup and rest your chin on the palm of your hand, “What do you want to know?”

“Anything.” Shangqi doesn’t care what you give him, as long as it's something. “Maybe why Paris?”

“What do you mean?” You sit forward, curious about how he’ll answer.

Shangqi clears his throat and leans closer to you, his voice a bit quiet. “You said you’re staying in Paris. What’s in Paris for you?” His heart starts to flutter when a smile spreads across your lips.

“A lot of things are in Paris, Shangqi.” Your eyes now focus on the espresso, finger moving the spoon in circles. “I’m not sure what’s there or what I’m looking for. But what I do know is that I’m glad to be there,” You softly chuckle when you look up and see Shangqi’s peculiar expression.

“I’m glad you’re here too.” Shangqi doesn’t register what he’s said until you let out an airy laughter. “I-I mean uhm, if you didn’t come to Paris I wouldn’t have met you here. The train ride probably would’ve been much more boring.”

“Maybe, but you’d probably be occupied with your sketches and what not.” For the first time during your conversation, there’s a small pause. Your gaze is set on the falling sun outside your window. Shangqi takes this moment to take in how hues of orange and pink rest on your face, light illuminating the high points of your face. Your eyes sparkle like diamonds, expression angelic.

You turn your gaze back to Shangqi, a hopeful diction plays in your voice. “I think I’m in Paris to find beauty.”

“Beauty?” Shangqi quizzically asks.

“Within myself, that is.” There’s something sad in your eyes, but your smile hides it. “C’mon, we only have an hour left before we get to Paris. Let’s go relax a bit.” You leave no room for Shangqi to argue as you’re already halfway down the aisle.

○•*•○※○•*•○※○•*•○※○

Shangqi never figured out what you meant by beauty. Beauty within myself, you said. What did you mean by that? He came to the conclusion you’re beautiful inside and out based on the conversation alone. Genuine. Intelligent. Kind. Adventurous. Empathetic. The list goes on. Shangqi has never met anyone like you. One in a million.

Soft snores escape from you, lips slightly parted. The bit of sun emitted a heavenly glow as your head rested against the windows. The sight of you, feet tucked under and his jacket draped across your body, was something Shangqi didn’t know if he'd get another glimpse. Maybe in another lifetime, but here right now, Shangqi wanted to eternalize it.

Shangqi flips open to a clean, empty page in his sketchbook. The moment his pencil touches the paper, Shangqi’s creativity binds to your beauty. He meticulously outlines the structure of your body, slowly adding details to match the alluring curves and dips of you. The mesmerizing attraction of you fuels his mind and hands, drowning all his thoughts and artistry onto the paper. He’s not sure how long ago he finished the portrait, but there’s an eternal happiness Shangqi feels. The beauty he once thought to slip through his fingers, now immortalized by graphite. Pleased with his portrait, Shangqi slips his sketchbook into his satchel. Stealing one more uninterrupted moment, he watches the slow rise and fall of your body.

“Mesdames, messieurs, dans quelques instants notre TGV desservira la gare du Nord. Une minute d’arrêt. Assurez-vous de ne rien avoir oublié.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, in a few minutes our TGV will enter Nord station. One minute stop. Make sure you don’t forget anything.”

The train announcement stirs you awake, rubbing the bits of sleep away. You turn to Shangqi, giving him a sweet smile. “Thank you for the jacket. You didn’t have to.” You hesitantly peel the jacket off, already missing it’s warmth and lingering smell of his bergamot and lemon cologne. “Are we almost there?”

“Yea. Train announcer said we’ll be there in a few minutes. We should probably start packing up” he says.

It’s a comfortable silence as you guys pack, while stealing glances at one another. You want to ask more, wanting to find out where Shangqi’s staying and seeing if he’s up for dinner. But before you could say a word, the announcer notifies you’ve arrived at the station. Passengers swiftly unboard, eagerly ready to go wherever they need to be. You and Shangqi, however, draw out time, holding onto every second left you have with one another.

“So where are you heading to now that you’re in Paris?” Shangqi asks.

“I’m staying with my friend, Yelena. She should be here soon.” You glance around the busy station, hoping Yelena isn’t here yet. You turn back to Shangqi, “Are you meeting up with anyone? Or heading off right away?” There’s a bit of hope in your voice, hope that Shangqi would stay a little longer.

“Yea, I gotta get going. I need to meet up with the gallery director and make sure everything is good to go. But you-” Shangqi is cut off when Yelena runs towards you and wraps her arms around your shoulders.

“Yelena! Hey!” You giggle when she presses a kiss to your cheek. “I’ll be right out, just saying by to a friend”

“Alright, but hurry and wrap it up. Nat and Clint are hungry and grumpy.” Yelena grabs your bags, not before giving Shangqi a deathly stare.

“Is she always that uh, protective?” Shangqi can still feel Yelena’s eyes burning into the back of his head.

“Only with the ones she loves. Yelena is really delightful once she warms up to you.” You look over Shangqi’s shoulder to see an impatient Natasha tapping her watch. “I have to get going, my friends are waiting on me. I had a lot of fun getting to know you, Shangqi. I wish we had more time together.”

You pull Shangqi into a hug, holding onto him longer than one should. Shangqi presses a soft kiss into your hair. You give Shangqi one last smile before you start your way towards the stairs.

You’re halfway up when Shangqi tugs your hand, “Wait I forgot.” He pulls out a small notebook and pen, frantically scribbling something down. He rips off the paper and hands it to you, “My art gallery show. It’s in two days and I’d love for you to come. If you’re not too busy that is.”

You take the paper, smiling at the scribbled address. You plant a quick kiss close to his mouth and smile, “I’ll be there. See you soon Picasso.”

Shangqi’s feet are planted firmly on the staircase, unwilling to move as passerbys enter and leave the station. The soft touch of your lips and its warmth linger on his skin the remainder of the night. There is an unwavering spell you’ve already cast on him and you don’t even know.

You are his muse. And Shangqi will spend a lifetime painting you in color.

○•*•○※○•*•○※○•*•○※○

all errors and mistakes are mine!

main masterlist // Xu Shangqi/Shang-Chi masterlist

[ask--romabelg]

What about nyo!Luxembourg? How does she look like?

{ meet Auréliia }