#mysterious voice convention!

[1000fingers]

Nova V’ger, Arthur Lester, Stanely Parable, Misfortune Ramirez Hernandez, The Long Quiet, and Daisy Thistleheart should have a support group for people with gods or other forms of powerful beings or narrators in their head

[catblackard]

In the face of all this, community helps me not feel so damn afraid. Come light some fires with me at my favorite comic con? North Carolina Comicon is this weekend in Durham, NC. ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 NCComicon.com

[airyairyaucontraire]

while not all murder mysteries would adapt well in this way I feel that Knives Out would make a really fun Columbo

[mrsfancyferrari]

Good Luck Kiss

Summary: Lando is a fully independent guy until you are around.

Song: Under The Influence by Chris Brown

Author’s note: I can't write short stories to save my life. I hope you enjoy this long journey which may take a full day to read. Please like, reblog and share this! <3

Word count: 8.6k

Once upon a time, in the bustling world of Formula 1, there lived a young and aspiring driver named Lando Norris. Lando was known for his quick reflexes, fearless racing style, and unwavering determination.

However, there was one aspect about Lando that many people didn't know - he was a fully independent guy, except for when he was around a certain someone.

It all started when Lando Norris attended the annual Formula 1 convention.

Amidst the glitz and glamour of the event, he stumbled upon a mysterious stranger. The woman's name was Y/N, and you were equally passionate about motorsports.

The two instantly connected over your shared love for speed and adrenaline.

As they chatted, Lando couldn't help but be drawn to your infectious laughter and genuine enthusiasm. They spent the entire evening together, discussing their favorite races, memorable moments, and even daring each other to try out some racing simulators.

It was a night that neither of them would ever forget, as they had found in each other a kindred spirit and a racing partner like no other.

"Wow! You're good," Lando said, flirting/teasing. "You should come over to the McLaren paddock to check it out," he added with a mischievous grin, knowing that you couldn't resist the chance to get a behind-the-scenes look at the heart of Formula 1.

"You're inviting me to the McLaren paddock? Are you serious?" you asked, a mix of excitement and disbelief evident in your voice.

"I would absolutely love to! That's like a dream come true for any Formula 1 fan," you replied, unable to contain your excitement.

Lando smirked, already getting used to your smile. "Well, get ready for the ride of your life," he said, his eyes gleaming with anticipation. "Because once you step into the McLaren paddock, you'll never want to leave."

Fast forward to the present, you had become Lando's best friend and constant companion both on and off the racetrack. You were there to support him through every victory and to lift him up during the challenging moments.

Together, you formed an unbreakable bond, a dynamic duo that pushed each other to new heights. Whether it was strategizing race tactics, cheering from the pit lane, or simply sharing a laugh after a long day, you were inseparable.

The McLaren paddock had become a second home for you, a place where memories were made, dreams were pursued, and the thrill of Formula 1 was lived to the fullest.

In addition to your close friendship with Lando, you also formed strong connections with the other drivers and their partners. The paddock became a tight-knit community where you shared laughs, stories, and even the occasional friendly competition.

It was a unique bond that extended beyond the racetrack, creating lifelong friendships that would continue to flourish even after the checkered flag fell.

As time went on, Lando found himself spending more and more time with you when they weren't in the paddock, and the press kept catching them together. Speculations about a romantic relationship between the two of you started circulating, fueling rumors and adding an extra layer of excitement to your already thrilling lives.

However, both of you remained tight-lipped about the nature of your relationship, preferring to keep it private and let the speculation run its course.

"Have you heard the latest rumors about Y/N and Lando? They're definitely more than just friends, I can feel it!" one fan excitedly whispered to another in the paddock.

"I don't know, they've always been so secretive about their relationship. But I wouldn't be surprised if they're actually together," replied another, their eyes fixated on you and Lando as you laughed together nearby.

"I heard they're the perfect match, both on and off the track. They bring out the best in each other," chimed in a journalist, discreetly taking notes.

"Well, whatever their relationship status is, they make a formidable team. I've never seen Lando so focused and driven before," commented a fellow driver, watching Lando's improved performance.

"I guess we'll just have to wait and see if they ever confirm it. But until then, I'm rooting for them," concluded a teammate, smiling in support. . . .

"Where's Y/N?" Lando complained, sulking after not seeing his best friend for three hours.

This morning, he was required to film a go kart video for Quadrant for their marketing campaign and it was suggested that you be a part of it, which he had no problem with at all, he wanted you to be there regardless.

"Don't worry mate, I'm sure your girlfriend will be here soon," Max teased, nudging his shoulder against Lando's.

Lando gently shoved him back for his comment, a playful smile on his face. "She's not my girlfriend, Max. Y/N and I are just really close friends," he clarified, emphasizing the word 'friend' to make his point.

Deep down, though, Lando couldn't help but wonder if there could ever be something more between them.

"Yeah, yeah," Max replied, not believing him one bit. "I've seen the way you two look at each other. There's definitely something more going on there, mate."

Before Lando could talk back, footsteps were heard, and you emerged from the crowd of staff.

You emerged from the crowd of staff, donning a sleek black leather jacket that hugged your figure perfectly. Underneath, you wore a vibrant orange crop top that accentuated your curves and matched the colour of the McLaren, paired with high-waisted jeans that showcased your long legs.

Completing the ensemble were a pair of white sneakers that added a touch of casual coolness to your overall look.

As you approached Lando and Max, the mischievous smile on your lips hinted at the adventures that awaited the three of you, fueling Lando's curiosity even further about the potential for something more than just friendship between you.

"Sorry I'm late, boys. Traffic was a nightmare," you said, smiling at Lando, who couldn't help but blush at the sight of you.

"It's okay, we can start now," Lando assured, avoiding your eyes to calm down a bit.

"But when I'm 5 minutes late, I get yelled at," Max muttered beside him and received another shove from Lando.

Lando took a deep breath, trying to collect his thoughts as he prepared to introduce the go-karting video.

With you and Max standing beside him, he couldn't help but feel a surge of nervous excitement. "Alright, everyone, welcome to Quadrant's go-karting extravaganza!" Lando exclaimed, his voice filled with enthusiasm.

"Today, we have two special guests joining us for some adrenaline-pumping action. Please give a warm welcome to the one and only Y/N and the ever-competitive Max!"

The crowd cheered, and Lando glanced at you. A mixture of anticipation and something else he couldn't quite put his finger on coursing through him.

Max playfully nudged Lando's shoulder, adding, "And let me tell you, folks, the competition between Lando and Y/N is about to get intense. I can't wait to see who comes out on top!"

After explaining the rules, the three of them started to change into their racing suits. Max slipped into his familiar Red Bull suit, while you and Lando excitedly put on the McLaren suits.

As Lando muttered, "Let me help you with that," he reached for your helmet, his fingers grazing your cheek as he brushed your hair away.

The intensity in his eyes remained unbroken as he carefully positioned the helmet on your head, his touch lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

"Oh my god! You two better get a room," Max said beside you two, looking more frustrated than the two of you felt about your feelings for each other.

Lando quickly let go of you, a faint blush still lingering on his cheeks, and you said a quick thank you before rushing over to where Max was since it was you vs Max first.

The anticipation and excitement in the air was palpable as you both prepared to show off your go-karting skills.

You both got into your go-karts with the determination to start the video with a great race to capture the viewer's attention.

You gripped the wheel of your go-kart tightly, your heart pounding with anticipation. Lando raised the starter pistol, his eyes focused on the track ahead. "On your marks... get set..." He paused, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Go!"

The sound of the pistol echoed through the air, and you and Max shot off like lightning. The thrill of the race fueled your determination to come out on top.

The wind whipped through your hair as you maneuvered your kart around the bends. The thrill of the race pushing you to your limits. As the laps flew by, the competition between you and Max intensified, fueling the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

With adrenaline coursing through your veins, you pressed down on the accelerator and zoomed ahead, determined to showcase your go-karting skills. Max, however, was not far behind, and the friendly competition between the two of you intensified as you maneuvered through the twists and turns of the track.

Max was hot on your tail, his competitive nature driving him to catch up and surpass you. The cheers from the crowd faded into the background as you focused on the twists and turns of the track, determined to give it your all.

The wind whipped against your face, causing your cheeks to flush with exhilaration. Every twist and turn of the track sent a surge of adrenaline through your veins, heightening your senses and sharpening your focus. The vibrations from the go-kart's engine reverberated through your body, adding to the excitement of the race.

As the race continued, you and Max pushed each other to the limits, maneuvering through the twists and turns with precision and skill. The crowd cheered as you both showcased your go-karting prowess, but Max's determination proved to be unmatched.

In the final lap, he made a daring move, overtaking you with a burst of speed that left you in awe. With a triumphant smile, Max crossed the finish line, claiming victory in the race.

Despite the disappointment of not winning, you couldn't help but admire Max's talent and sportsmanship, knowing that you had given it your all in a thrilling and unforgettable race.

Lando quickly ran over to you as you got out of the go-kart to check for any injuries while you assured him that you were fine.

Despite the loss, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride for the exhilarating race you had just experienced.

"What about me? I think my legs hurt," Max muttered, acting like he broke his leg.

"That's karma for you," Lando replied, "You should have let Y/N win,"

"Never," Max said with a smirk, "I'm not one to let someone win just out of pity." Lando chuckled and patted Max on the back, "Well, Y/N certainly gave you a run for your money. It was an incredible race to watch."

Max's competitive spirit still brimming, he replied, "Yeah, they did. I'll give them that. But next time, I won't be so merciful."

You chuckle and playfully retort, "Oh, so you're admitting that you were being merciful this time?"

Max rolls his eyes and smirks, "Just you wait, next time I won't hold back and you won't stand a chance."

You and Lando got into your go-karts, the engines roaring to life as you prepared for the race. The smell of burning rubber filled the air, adding to the anticipation of the competition.

"Am I going to get my good luck kiss?" Lando teased beside you, causing a playful smile to spread across your face.

You playfully roll your eyes at Lando's comment and give him a playful shove. "You wish," you respond with a smirk.

Lando pleads, "Come on, just one good luck kiss! It worked last time!"

You laugh and shake your head, "Sorry, Lando, but I don't think a kiss will give you an advantage this time. You'll have to rely on your own skills."

Lando pouted, feeling disappointed that things didn't go his way. Max, who had been growing increasingly disgusted by the playful "flirting" between you and Lando, decided to take matters into his own hands.

Without warning, he fired the starting pistol, catching both you and Lando off guard and initiating the race with a bang. The sudden sound echoed through the air, signaling the beginning of another intense competition.

The race started off with a flurry of speed and adrenaline as you and Lando maneuvered your go-karts through the twists and turns of the track. Both of you showcased impressive skills, overtaking each other and pushing the limits of your vehicles.

As the race progressed, Lando began to gain a slight edge, skillfully navigating the corners and maximizing his speed on the straightaways. You gave it your all, refusing to let Lando take the lead without a fight. But despite your best efforts, Lando's expertise and precision behind the wheel proved to be unmatched.

You could feel the wind from Lando's go-kart as he zoomed past the front of your car, leaving you in his dust. His maneuver was both impressive and frustrating, as you had been neck-and-neck for most of the race.

"Hey, I thought you would take it easy on her?" Max asked Lando after he got out of the go-kart.

Lando chuckled and shrugged, " Since she wouldn't give me what I wanted, I had no choice but to do it."

"You would have won regardless, with or without the kiss," you said, also getting out of the go-kart. "It was a great race, Lando. You really showed your skill out there."

Lando grinned, still catching his breath. "Thanks Y/N."

Since you were tired from all the racing, the two guys decided to do some mini games to pass the time while you rested on a chair. They set up a table tennis table and started a friendly match, their competitive spirits still shining through.

As they played, you watched with amusement, enjoying the lighthearted banter and laughter that filled the air.

Occasionally, they would invite you to join in, but you declined, content to relax and soak in the camaraderie that had developed between the three of you.

After a few rounds of table tennis, they moved on to a game of darts, taking turns aiming for the bullseye with precision and skill. It was a refreshing change of pace from the intense racing, and you found yourself appreciating the moment of respite.

As you laid back on the chair, you started to fall asleep, the sounds of their laughter and the clinking of darts fading into the background. The exhaustion from the race and the adrenaline rush began to take its toll, and before you knew it, you drifted off into a peaceful slumber, feeling grateful for the bonds of friendship that had been formed during this exhilarating competition.

You knew that there would likely be photos or videos taken of you sleeping, but at that moment, you didn't care. The fatigue from the race had overtaken you, and all you wanted was a peaceful nap.

The trust and camaraderie you had built with Lando and Max allowed you to let your guard down, knowing that even if embarrassing moments were captured, they would remain within the circle of friendship.

The intense racing had left you physically and mentally drained, making the peaceful slumber that followed even more satisfying.

The adrenaline rush and the exertion of pushing yourself to the limit had taken a toll on your energy levels, and the nap provided a much-needed opportunity to recharge and recover. . . .

As you slowly opened your eyes, you were greeted by the refreshing sensation of coolness and shade. You thought the sun had shifted and now cast a gentle shadow over the area where you had been napping.

It was a stark contrast to the warmth and brightness that enveloped you before, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for the respite from the scorching heat.

You looked over to see Lando holding an umbrella over you while being on his phone, and couldn't help but feel touched by his thoughtful gesture. Despite being absorbed in his own activities, he had taken the time to shield you from the sun and ensure your comfort.

You couldn't help but admire Lando's striking features. His curly hair, tousled by the wind, framed a face that exuded a combination of youthful energy and maturity beyond his years. His eyes, a vibrant shade of hazel, sparkled with intelligence and a mischievous glint that hinted at his playful nature.

The dimples that appeared when he smiled added an undeniable charm to his already captivating presence. And his infectious laughter, a melodic blend of joy and enthusiasm, never failed to brighten your day.

But it was his kind heart and genuine concern for others that truly set him apart.

His selflessness had been evident in countless small gestures, like now, as he shielded you from the sun without a second thought, demonstrating his unwavering commitment to the happiness and well-being of those around him.

His eyes then flickered up and met your eyes, locking in a moment of connection that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. In that instant, it felt as if time had stopped, and the world around you faded into the background, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of unspoken emotions.

"Well good evening sleepyhead, how long have you been awake?" Lando teased, breaking the enchanting spell between the two of you.

The sound of his voice brought you back to reality, and you couldn't help but blush at being caught in such a vulnerable moment.

"Wait, did you say evening?" you stammered, trying to gather your thoughts.

Lando chuckled softly, his eyes still holding a twinkle of amusement.

"Well, time flies when you're lost in a nap, doesn't it? It's already late afternoon," he replied, a warm smile playing on his lips.

"What about the video?" you asked, sitting in panic that you ruined it because you were asleep.

Lando's smile widened as he reassured you, "Don't worry, we still have time to do the final if you're still up for it. Your nap just added a touch of authenticity to the footage."

You nodded, taking the umbrella off Lando so he could stretch his arm. As he did, you couldn't help but appreciate the way his muscles flexed and the way his sleeves rolled up, revealing his tanned skin.

It was moments like these that made you grateful for the unexpected connections you found in life.

"Finally she has risen from the nap of the century," Max said as soon as he saw the both of you walk into the staff room.

You couldn't help but blush at the teasing remark, but Lando's reassuring presence beside you made you feel at ease.

"We're definitely up for finishing the video today," Lando replied with a confident smile. "We just had a little detour, but we're ready to get back on track."

Lando replied confidently, his eyes glancing at you for confirmation.

You nodded, feeling a surge of excitement and determination to complete the project with the support of your newfound connection.

"I guess I can spend one more hour of my time to beat the both of you in go-karting," Max stated, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

You couldn't help but exchange a playful glance with Lando, silently accepting the challenge and looking forward to the friendly competition that awaited you.

"Challenge accepted," you replied, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

The upcoming go-karting race was not just a friendly competition between friends. It was the final showdown between Max and Lando, a battle that would determine once and for all who was the true champion of the track.

As Max and Lando did their slow walk for the video, the tension in the air was palpable. This final race was not just about winning a trophy; it was about pride, honor, and the ultimate bragging rights among friends.

The tension in the air was palpable, and everyone knew that this race would be the ultimate test of skill and determination for both competitors.

As they got into their go-karts, Lando gestured for you to come over.

Curiosity piqued, you approached Lando's go-kart, wondering what he had in store.

He leaned in and whispered, "I'm going to need my good luck kiss if you want me to win this race."

"Well," you whispered back with a mischievous glint in your eye, "if it's good luck you're after, I suppose I have no choice but to oblige. After all, we wouldn't want anything to hinder our chances of beating Max, would we?"

Lando grinned and nodded in agreement, his eyes gleaming with determination. He knew that every advantage counted in this high-stakes race, and he was willing to go to any lengths to secure the victory.

He also just wanted a kiss from you.

You cupped his face and gently placed your lips on his cheek, giving him the good luck kiss he desired.

As your lips touched Lando's cheek, a surge of warmth and determination spread through Lando's body. It was as if the kiss transferred a sense of confidence, fueling him with an electric energy that would propel Lando forward in the race.

As you pulled away, a spark of excitement passed between you, fueling your determination to win the race and prove to Max once and for all that you and Lando were an unstoppable team.

Lando's ears turned a shade of crimson, but his smile only grew brighter. He couldn't help but feel a surge of anticipation and confidence, knowing that he had your support and the added boost of the good luck kiss.

"Thanks Y/N," he said, his voice filled with gratitude and excitement. "With your good luck kiss, I know we're going to dominate this race and show Max who the true champion is."

With determination in his eyes, Lando strapped on his helmet and revved the engine of his go-kart, prepared to give it his all in the race.

Blushing at his words, you playfully tapped Lando on the shoulder before walking over to the starting line with the starting pistol in hand.

The anticipation in the air was palpable as you raised the pistol, ready to signal the start of the race and unleash the fierce competition between Lando and Max.

The good luck kiss not only symbolized your support for Lando, but it also ignited a newfound confidence within him.

Fueled by the warmth and determination that the kiss brought, Lando was ready to give his all in the race, knowing that he had the power of your love and support behind him, making him unstoppable.

The sound of the starting pistol echoed through the air, piercing the silence and signaling the beginning of the race.

Lando's go-kart shot forward, the engine roaring as he accelerated with a fierce determination. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, his focus fixed solely on the track ahead.

With every twist and turn, he pushed himself to the limit, fueled by the knowledge that he had your love and support propelling him forward.

As the race progressed, Lando skillfully maneuvered through the tight corners and overtaking Max with precision. Each lap brought him closer to victory, and his confidence soared with every successful maneuver. His determination never wavered, and he maintained a steady lead throughout the race.

In the final moments, with the finish line in sight, Lando summoned every ounce of his skill and experience. He pushed his go-kart to its limits, leaving his rival trailing behind.

As he crossed the finish line, a triumphant smile spread across his face.

Lando had emerged as the true champion, proving to Max and everyone else that with your support, he was unstoppable.

He immediately made his way to where you were, quickly jumping out of the go-kart and into your arms. The adrenaline was still pumping through his veins as he held you tightly, his heart filled with a mixture of excitement and gratitude.

Breathing heavily, he looked into your eyes with a mixture of exhilaration and gratitude, knowing that it was your good luck kiss and unwavering support that propelled him to victory.

With tears of joy welling in his eyes, he whispered, "Thank you for believing in me. I couldn't have done it without you."

As you took off Lando's helmet, a mischievous smile spread across your face. Playfully, you pressed kisses all over his cheeks, purposely missing his lips. Lando couldn't help but laugh, feeling the warmth of your love and support enveloping him.

In that moment, he knew that your presence and encouragement were the true driving force behind his victory, and he was forever grateful for your unwavering belief in him.

Lando chuckled, his heart still racing from the intense competition.

"If it's good luck kisses that you need to win races, I'll gladly take as many as you want to give," you replied, playfully wiping off the remaining lipstick stains from his face.

Your presence and support had truly become his secret weapon, fueling him with the determination to conquer any race that lay ahead.

Lando couldn't help but blush at your playful gesture, feeling a surge of happiness and gratitude. "I wouldn't say no to more good luck kisses," he replied with a grin, his heart swelling with love for you.

"But can you promise me something?"

"What is it?"

Lando whispered, his voice barely audible. He pointed to his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "If I win a grand prix, you have to give me a victory kiss right here."

Your heart skipped a beat as you looked into his eyes, realizing that his request was both playful and sincere.

With a smile, you nodded and replied, "Deal. I'll be waiting to give you that grand prix victory kiss."

Lando chuckled, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "I can't wait to win these races and claim my well-deserved victory kiss. You better start practicing your cheering skills because I'm going to need all the luck I can get," he teased, his voice filled with determination and anticipation.

"Trust me, I'll be the loudest cheerleader in the stands, I have no doubt that you'll win every race and I'll be right there cheering you on," you replied, your voice filled with unwavering belief and love.

Lost in the moment, the both of you didn't even hear Max do the outro for the video. The chemistry between you was undeniable, and it seemed like everyone around you could see it.

Max, who had been watching your interactions all day, let out an exasperated sigh. "Are you two ever going to get together?" he muttered under his breath, clearly sick of the two of you dancing around your feelings.

It was time to stop playing games and finally admit what had been obvious to everyone else for so long. . . .

And so, the whispers of Lando and your relationship spread throughout the racing community, with everyone eagerly anticipating the day when you would finally become more than just friends. . . .

The anticipation for the Miami Grand Prix reached fever pitch as fans eagerly awaited your relationship with Lando to blossom. The video had ignited a frenzy of excitement, and spectators couldn't help but wonder if the grand prix victory kiss would be the catalyst for your official union.

The anticipation for the Miami Grand Prix was at an all-time high, fueled not only by the excitement of the race but also by the fans' obsession with your relationship with Lando.

Everywhere you went, people asked when you were going to make it official, eagerly waiting for the victory kiss that had been promised.

The pressure was on, but deep down, you both knew that this race would be a turning point in more ways than one.

As Lando delved into intense discussions with the engineers, you took the opportunity to explore the bustling paddock. The atmosphere was electric, with the sounds of engines revving and the smell of burning rubber filling the air.

You wandered from team to team, immersing yourself in the world of Formula 1, gaining a deeper appreciation for the dedication and precision that went into each race.

The atmosphere was electric, with teams frantically making last-minute adjustments to their cars and fans eagerly snapping photos of their favorite drivers.

As you explored, you couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness. The Miami Grand Prix was not only a crucial moment for Lando's racing career but also for your relationship.

"Y/N! Long time no see!" you heard from behind you, turning around to see who it was.

Standing before you was Alexandra Saint Mleux, the renowned fashion influencer and close friend of Lando. Her striking features, with piercing blue eyes and perfectly coiffed blonde hair, seemed to radiate confidence.

She was dressed impeccably, donning a tailored white pantsuit that accentuated her slender figure, paired with a bold statement necklace and stiletto heels, exuding an air of sophistication and glamour.

"Alexandra!" you exclaimed, a smile spreading across your face as you embraced your best friend in the paddock.

It had been far too long since you had seen each other, and you couldn't wait to catch up on all the latest news and gossip.

"How have you been?" Alexandra asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity. You took a moment to gather your thoughts, eager to share the whirlwind of emotions that had consumed your life since the last time you had seen her.

"Oh, Alexandra, where do I even begin?" you replied, a mix of excitement and nervousness in your voice. "So much has happened since we last caught up. Lando, and I... it's all been a rollercoaster of emotions."

Alexandra was captivated by your journey and couldn't help but ask, "So, what's the deal with you and Lando? Are you two finally going to make it official?"

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "Well, Alexandra, it's complicated," you say with a hint of uncertainty.

"Lando and I have been through so much together, and I care about him deeply. But there are still some things we need to figure out before we can make any official decisions."

Alexandra nodded understandingly, sensing the weight of your words. She quickly changed the topic, eager to distract you from the complexity of your relationship with Lando.

With a smile, she began sharing stories about her recent travels with Leo and Charles and the adventures they had together.

As you listened, the worries and uncertainties faded into the background, replaced by laughter and the warmth of friendship. . . .

"Y/N! Miss L/N!" A McLaren staff came out of nowhere, frantically looking for you. You turned towards them, a mix of surprise and curiosity in your eyes, wondering what could be so urgent that they interrupted your long-awaited reunion with Alexandra.

You turned towards the staff member, a sense of urgency creeping into your voice as you asked, "What's wrong? Is everything alright?"

"It's Lando,"

Startled, you turned to Alexandra and said, "I guess our catch-up will have to wait. Duty calls."

Alexandra nodded understandingly, giving you a quick hug before you followed the staff. "Take care, Y/N," she said softly, her voice filled with concern. "I hope everything is alright with Lando."

"I hope so too," you replied, your heart pounding with worry. "I'll find out what's going on and let you know as soon as I can." With that, you hurried after the staff member, praying that whatever had happened to Lando wasn't as serious as it sounded.

As they walked, you asked the staff member, "What happened? Is Lando okay?"

"He won't get in his car," the staff member stated. "He said he needed to see you before he goes."

Your heart sank as you realized that you had let the time slip away. You knew how important it was to be there for Lando before he left, and now you were filled with regret for not keeping your promise. You quickened your pace, hoping that you would be able to reach him in time and make things right.

"Kid, she's not coming," Zac tried to convince him, "You'll see her after the race anyway,"

"But I can't race without seeing her," Lando insisted, his determination unwavering.

"But Lando," Zac pleaded, "this is your chance to prove yourself on the track. You've worked so hard for this opportunity."

Lando shook his head, determination in his eyes. "If she's not coming, then I'm not going," he said firmly, his mind made up.

"Wait, Lando!" you called out, catching up to him just in time. "I'm here, I'm sorry for being late. I couldn't bear the thought of you racing without seeing you first."

Lando's eyes softened as he looked at you. A mix of relief and love filled his expression. "I can't do this without you," he whispered, taking your hand in his.

As you stood there, hand in hand with Lando, you knew that the cameras were capturing this intimate moment between the two of you. But in that moment, you didn't care about the public scrutiny or the potential backlash.

All that mattered was being there for each other, supporting one another through the highs and lows.

The pressure of the race, the expectations, and the regrets of being late all faded away as you stood there, united and ready to face whatever challenges came your way.

"What's the problem?" you asked worriedly, ready to fight anyone for Lando.

"I need my good luck kiss," Lando said desperately, his eyes pleading with you.

"You're telling me that you won't go because you wanted a kiss from me?" you slapped his shoulder gently, your disbelief evident in your voice.

Lando grinned sheepishly, his determination momentarily wavering. "Well, yeah, I guess so," he admitted, his eyes searching yours for any sign of agreement.

Despite the urgency of the situation, you couldn't help but smile at his request. You leaned in and pressed your lips against his cheek, sending a wave of reassurance and love through his body.

"Good luck Lando," you said.

"Thanks, I'll win for you, okay," Lando replied, grinning, running over to his car and driving off at the start of the race.

As you watched him go, a mixture of nerves and excitement filled your heart, knowing that you would be cheering him on every step of the way, no matter what.

"I can't believe that he wasn't going to go without your 'good luck' kiss," you heard Zac say beside you, tired of Lando's behavior.

"I know, it's ridiculous," you replied, shaking your head in disbelief. "But that's just Lando being Lando. He's always had this superstition about needing a good luck kiss before a race. I guess I've just gotten used to it."

"At this point, you two should get together," Zac stated.

You chuckled and glanced at Zac, feeling a blush creep up on your cheeks. "Well, maybe it's about time we make it official," you replied, a hint of excitement in your voice.

Zac grinned and nodded approvingly, knowing that you and Lando were meant to be together.

You smiled at Zac's comment, realizing that there was truth in his words. It was clear that your bond with Lando went beyond superstitions and good luck kisses.

As you watched the race unfold, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, it was time to take your relationship to the next level. . . .

The Miami Grand Prix was a thrilling and intense race from start to finish. Lando showcased his exceptional driving skills, maneuvering through the challenging turns and maintaining a competitive edge.

He faced tough competition from other skilled drivers, each vying for the top spot. As the laps progressed, Lando's determination remained unwavering, his focus unwavering as he pushed the limits of his car.

Despite the challenges of intense competition and the demanding nature of the race track, Lando remained composed and strategic.

He skillfully navigated through tight turns, battled for position, and made split-second decisions to maintain his competitive edge. It was a true test of his abilities, but Lando's determination and skill shone through, propelling him closer to victory.

The crowd erupted in cheers as he made daring overtakes and showcased his racing prowess.

In the end, Lando emerged victorious, crossing the finish line with a triumphant smile on his face, proving once again that he was a force to be reckoned with in the world of racing.

You were on your feet as soon as he passed the chequered flag, your heart pounding with excitement. The roar of the crowd enveloped you as you joined in the celebration, cheering and clapping for Lando's incredible victory.

The moment was electric, filled with a sense of pride and joy that only intensified as you made your way to the podium to congratulate him on his well-deserved win.

Seeing his triumphant smile up close, you couldn't help but feel an overwhelming sense of pride and joy, knowing that you were there to witness this unforgettable moment in Lando's racing career.

Tears of happiness streamed down your face as you witnessed the culmination of his hard work and dedication, knowing that this victory was not only a testament to his talent

"Let's go, you have a grand prix victory kiss to deliver," Zac said, coming out of nowhere to help you get through the crowd.

People already started to give space as soon as they saw you, having a knowing grin on their faces. It was clear that they recognized you as someone special, someone who was close to the victorious driver.

As you made your way through the crowd, their excitement and anticipation grew, and you could feel their admiration and respect for being part of Lando's inner circle.

The moment you reached where Lando was, the crowd erupted into cheers once again, celebrating not only Lando's victory but also your presence and support throughout his journey.

As you approached Lando, he was still tightly embracing his team, their faces beaming with pride and joy. You waited patiently, soaking in the atmosphere and reflecting on the incredible journey that led to this victorious moment.

The sight of their camaraderie and shared joy warmed your heart, as you knew that their teamwork and support had played a crucial role in Lando's success.

As the team staff pointed at you and yelled, "Aye there's your girlfriend mate!", you couldn't help but blush.

Lando immediately turned around, his eyes falling on you, the biggest grin on his face. He hurriedly made his way towards you, pushing through the crowd, and swept you up in a tight embrace.

"We did it" he whispered, his voice filled with genuine happiness.

"You did it, Lando. It was all you," you said, your voice filled with genuine admiration and pride.

"No, you were my motivation to win," he replied, his eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips.

You rolled your eyes playfully, slowly wrapping your arms around his neck. "Oh please, don't give me that cliché line," you teased, a mischievous smile dancing on your lips. "But I'm glad I could be there to support you. Congratulations, champ."

You pushed his head gently closer, feeling the electricity between you two intensify as your lips inched closer. The anticipation grew with each passing second, and the world seemed to fade away as you both leaned in, your breathing becoming shallow and quick.

Finally, your lips met in a gentle, tender kiss, savoring the moment of victory and shared love. The kiss started soft and sweet, but soon grew more passionate and intense, fueled by the adrenaline and emotions of the triumphant race.

The kiss started softly, a gentle exploration of each other's lips, but soon grew more intense, fueled by the passion and desire that had been building between you for so long.

The once gentle kisses turned into a hungry exchange, as your lips moved together in perfect sync, leaving no doubt about the depth of your love and longing for each other.

As your lips moved together in perfect sync, Lando's hands tightened their grip on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

The intensity of the kiss mirrored the intensity of the emotions coursing through both of you, solidifying the connection that had been growing between you for so long.

Your hands were tangling in his sweaty hair, the sensation only adding to the exhilaration of the moment. The soft strands slipped through your fingers as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the taste and feel of him.

Time seemed to stand still as you both surrendered to the passion, knowing that this victory was not just about the race, but about the love that had brought you together.

Reluctantly, you pulled away from the kiss, your heart still racing with desire. "As much as I would love to stay here with you, you have a podium to attend in just a few minutes," you reminded him with a playful smile, trying to catch your breath.

Lando pouted at your response but knew he had to leave. "You know where to meet me right?" he whispered, his eyes filled with longing and anticipation, as he reluctantly pulled away, knowing that the celebration would have to wait until later.

"Of course," you replied, your voice filled with the same longing and anticipation. "I'll meet you at our spot as soon as the podium ceremony is over."

He grinned mischievously, stealing one last kiss before reluctantly tearing himself away from you.

The taste of him lingered on your lips as he hurriedly made his way to the podium, leaving you breathless and longing for the moment when you could meet again at your special spot. . . .

As Lando made his way to the media section to be interviewed for his win, his mind couldn't help but wander back to you. Thoughts of your passionate kiss lingered in his thoughts.

He couldn't wait for the podium ceremony to be over so that he could reunite with you at your spot and continue where you had left off.

However, he then felt something on his lips and he snapped out of it, moving away from it - it was a staff cleaning his lips with a cloth.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm only cleaning the lipstick from your lips," The staff answered, confused of his actions. He always let them clean his face before an interview.

He thought of the lipstick you had on which was now on his lips.

Suddenly, an idea sparked in Lando's mischievous mind. With a playful smirk, he leaned closer to the staff member and whispered, "Leave a little lipstick on, just to remind everyone who truly won today."

The staff member couldn't help but chuckle at Lando's mischievous request. Knowing that Lando was the race's victor and had a certain charm that couldn't be resisted, they nodded and left a hint of lipstick on his lips, complying with his playful demand.

As Lando headed to the media section, he couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence, knowing that he had left his mark not only on the race but also on the hearts of the fans.

As Lando approached the interviewer, he confidently took the microphone in his hand. The male interviewer greeted him with a smile, ready to delve into Lando's victorious race and capture his electrifying energy for the fans.

Interviewer asked politely, "Congratulations on your incredible win, Lando! How does it feel to come out on top today?"

"Thank you! It feels absolutely amazing. The race was intense, but I stayed focused and pushed myself to the limit. The car was performing exceptionally well, and my team did an outstanding job with the strategy." Lando replied with, "It's a fantastic feeling to see all the hard work pay off."

"You certainly had everyone on the edge of their seats! Can you walk us through that nail-biting overtaking maneuver in the final lap?"

"Oh, that was a heart-stopping moment for sure! I saw an opportunity to make a move, and I knew I had to seize it. The adrenaline was pumping, and I went for it." Lando explained.

"The car responded perfectly, and I managed to make the pass stick. It was a risky move, but it paid off, and I couldn't be happier with the outcome."

"I can't help but notice the lipstick stain on your lips," The interviewer commented on.

Lando chuckled, his mischievous charm shining through. "Ah, yes, a little souvenir from the victory celebration," he replied with a wink.

"Just a small reminder of the exhilaration and triumph of this race." The interviewer smiled, intrigued by Lando's playful nature, and continued with the interview.

The interviewer laughed, finding Lando's playful nature endearing. "Well, it certainly adds a unique touch to your victory," they replied. "Now, let's talk about the reaction from your fans. Social media is buzzing with excitement over your win. How does it feel to have such a dedicated and passionate fanbase supporting you?"

Lando's smile widened as he replied, "I am incredibly grateful for my fans. Their support means the world to me. It's humbling to know that my performance on the track resonates with so many people. I couldn't ask for better support."

"As you were about to pass the chequered flag, who or what were yout thinking of?"

"As I approached the chequered flag, my mind was filled with a mix of emotions and thoughts. Of course, my family and friends were on my mind, but Y/N was definitely the one who occupied my thoughts the most throughout the race. Her support and encouragement gave me that extra push to go for the win." Lando answered with a smile, his voice filled with affection and gratitude.

"Was your motivation to get your victory kiss?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Lando said, pointing at his face with a grin. "That victory kiss from Y/N was definitely a motivating factor. Knowing that I had her waiting at the finish line made me push even harder."

"Well, I'll let you go celebrate your win," the interviewer said, acknowledging Lando's eagerness to savor his victory. "But before you go, one last question: what does this win mean for you and your racing career?"

"This win means everything to me and my racing career. It's a validation of all the hard work, dedication, and sacrifices that I've made to get to this point. It's a stepping stone towards achieving my ultimate goals and solidifying my place in the racing world."

As the camera stopped recording and the microphone was taken from him, the interviewer thanked Lando for his time and congratulated him once again on his impressive victory.

Lando ran over to the podium, a mixture of exhilaration and exhaustion coursing through his veins. As he reached for the trophy, a surge of pride washed over him.

This trophy symbolized not only his victory, but also the culmination of years of hard work, determination, and perseverance.

Lando held the trophy high above his head, basking in the cheers and applause from the crowd, knowing that this moment would forever be etched in his memory as one of his proudest achievements. . . .

As you sat in Lando's driver's room, waiting for him to finish with his interviews, you couldn't help but feel a sense of awe and admiration for his incredible achievement.

The way he spoke about you during the interview filled your heart with warmth, knowing that you were his biggest source of motivation and inspiration.

You couldn't wait to congratulate him in person and celebrate this momentous win together.

As you sat in Lando's driver's room, waiting for him to finish with his interviews, you couldn't help but remember the passionate kiss you shared before he had to leave for the race. Your finger grazed over your lips, still tingling from the lingering sensation.

Your hands were tangling in his sweaty hair, the sensation only adding to the exhilaration of the moment. The soft strands slipped through your fingers as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the taste and feel of him.

Your thoughts of the moment of the kiss were interrupted by the door opening and you quickly pulled your hand away from your lips, hoping no one had seen the intimate gesture.

It revealed a beaming Lando with the trophy in his hands. His eyes met yours, and a wide grin spread across his face as he rushed towards you, engulfing you in a tight embrace.

His head was buried into your neck, and you could feel his rapid heartbeat against your chest. The scent of victory and adrenaline filled the air as you held each other tightly, savoring the moment of triumph.

The world around you faded away, and in that embrace, you knew that you were not only celebrating his win, but also the deep bond and love that you shared.

"Can we continue what we stopped before?" Lando asked, his voice low and husky against your neck. You felt a shiver run down your spine as his words stirred up the same desire that had ignited between you earlier.

With a mischievous smile, you whispered back, "I think we can definitely make some time for that, especially after this incredible victory."

The anticipation in Lando's eyes mirrored your own as you both shared a knowing look, ready to relish in the passionate moments that awaited you.

Lando's hands were curling around your waist, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The warmth of his embrace enveloped you, and you couldn't help but melt into his strong arms.

In that moment, all you wanted was to lose yourself in his touch and continue where you left off, savoring every delicious second of the passion that awaited you both.

Your lips molded together in a perfect harmony, the softness of his contrasting with the passion in his kiss. The taste of him lingered on your tongue, a mixture of mint and desire.

As your fingers entwined in his hair, you reveled in the sensation of the sweat-soaked strands slipping through your grasp, adding to the intoxicating thrill of the moment. The world around you ceased to exist as you deepened the kiss, losing yourself in the electric connection that pulsed between you.

The pressure of his lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, igniting a fire within you that could only be quenched by his touch. Your hearts beat in sync, the rhythm of desire pounding through your chests.

Time seemed to stand still as you surrendered to the taste, the feel, and the sheer intoxication of his kiss.

Every nerve ending in your body came alive, as if electrified by the raw passion that flowed between you.

Lando pulled back slightly, a playful glint in his eyes. "Oh, trust me, baby," he said with a sly grin, "We're just getting started. I have plenty more in store for you tonight."

His teasing words sent a surge of anticipation through you, and you couldn't help but giggle in response.

"Is that so?" you countered, your voice dripping with flirtation. "Well, I can't wait to see what you have in mind. But first, let's celebrate this victory properly."

The air crackled with excitement as you both leaned in for another passionate kiss, ready to explore the depths of desire together. . . .

[plutonianeris]

Asteroid Lilith (1181)

Asteroid Lilith in the houses of your natal chart brings up themes of independence, rebellion, and primal feminine energy.

With Lilith in your 1st House, you are the storm that cannot be contained. You stride into spaces, and the air crackles with your presence. Eyes are drawn to you, not just in awe but in reverence, because you carry a power that is both undeniable and untamed. You break the mold of what the world expects, shattering conventions with every step. You are not here to conform; you are here to redefine. Your very existence is a rebellion, a statement that you will never be controlled or confined.

In the 2nd House, Lilith is the fire that burns through the chains of dependency. You demand freedom in the realm of resources and self-worth, craving independence like oxygen. Your relationship with money and possessions is a reflection of your inner rebellion—there is no value to you in material things unless they symbolize your autonomy. You rewrite the rules of what it means to be secure, standing tall in the knowledge that your worth is beyond measure, unbound by society's definition of success.

Lilith in the 3rd House gives your voice a sharp edge, like a blade cutting through the noise. You speak truths others shy away from, your words charged with the kind of power that demands attention. There is no space for the ordinary in your mind; you are a disruptor of thought, challenging outdated beliefs and lighting fires in the hearts of those willing to listen. You are the voice of the unspoken, the whisper of revolution carried on the wind.

With Lilith rooted in the 4th House, home is not a place you inherit—it’s something you create on your own terms. You are the breaker of family patterns, the one who refuses to be held by the weight of tradition. Your emotional independence is fierce, like an ancient forest that grows wild and free, untethered by expectations. You carve out a sanctuary that reflects your soul’s desire for freedom, where no one can dictate what “family” or “home” should mean to you.

In the 5th House, Lilith dances with fire. Your creativity is electric, unchained, and your approach to love is nothing short of revolutionary. You live for passion that breaks the rules, for art that shocks the senses. There’s an intoxicating wildness in how you love and create—you do not follow paths, you blaze new ones. Every romance, every creative act, is an expression of your refusal to be anything less than fully, fiercely alive.

Lilith in the 6th House rebels against the grind, the monotony, the soul-crushing routines of the conventional world. You cannot be tamed by authority or confined by clocked hours; your spirit demands freedom in your work. Your approach to health mirrors this autonomy—there’s a deep wisdom in how you care for yourself, often turning to holistic or alternative paths that honor your need for balance outside the norm. You are not here to merely survive—you are here to thrive, on your own terms.

In the 7th House, Lilith brings the storm to your relationships. You are not interested in partnerships that bind or restrict—you crave equality, freedom, and intensity in every connection. Power struggles may arise, but they only serve to remind you of the sacred fire within that refuses to be dimmed. You seek relationships that elevate and liberate, where love is not a chain but a dance of two souls who choose to be free together.

Lilith in the 8th House is the embodiment of your deepest, most primal desires. You are drawn to the taboo, the hidden, the places others fear to explore. Power, sexuality, and transformation are your realms, and you navigate them with a fearless heart. In the depths of intimacy, you find your strength, exploring the darker edges of life with a sense of purpose. This placement asks you to embrace the shadows, to find the magic that lies within the mystery of your soul.

Lilith in the 9th House is the wild sage, the wanderer who refuses to be tied to any dogma or rigid belief. You are a seeker of truth, but not the kind written in stone. You crave freedom in your exploration of life’s philosophies, pushing beyond the boundaries of conventional wisdom. Spirituality, travel, and education are sacred to you—but only when they allow you to soar, unchained and untamed, toward the horizons that call your name.

In the 10th House, Lilith challenges you to tear down the walls of the conventional career. You will not be bound by society’s narrow definitions of success. There’s a wild ambition here, one that seeks not to fit in but to break free. You are a force of disruption in the public sphere, unafraid to challenge authority and redefine what it means to stand in your power. You don’t just play the game—you change the rules entirely.

With Lilith in the 11th House, you are the rebel within the collective. Social norms and group expectations feel like shackles to you, and you refuse to be anything less than your authentic self. You are drawn to causes and communities that reflect your own wild, progressive ideals, but even here, you challenge groupthink. You push others to think differently, to embrace their uniqueness, and to stand tall in their individuality, just as you do.

In the 12th House, Lilith pulls you into the depths of your own psyche. You are no stranger to the shadows, to the hidden parts of yourself that others may fear. Here, you find power in the unconscious, in the dreams and mysteries that swirl beneath the surface of life. This is where you confront your deepest fears, your buried desires, and your untapped potential. Lilith guides you to embrace the darkness within, to find liberation in the unseen forces that shape your reality.

[monstersighing]

Hello! I sAw your intro and was intrigued. I have a request,- you don't have to if its too much-

imagine AFAB reader who is a devotee to this Eldritch being, seeing them as a deity or a God. As the world grew more modern/OR there's a great war. SOMETHING that lead the other devotees to not believe in this being anymore, bUt ofcouRse, our reader are devoted n loyal to the being, iN which the being will RewaRd the reader

You could get creative with this! I imagine when the reader prays, the Eldritch will speak to them telepathically, (whether to ask for a sacrafice- oR other *orDers~*) SO, reader has a voice kink ;). And soMe other stuff too- like corruption, tentacles, anal, cunnilingus, edging, and over stim pleasee-! (if its too much I understand-)

Bonus if our devotee reader was rlly innocent before hand :)

Thank You!! ~ 💫

Eldritch Being/Deity x AFAB Reader

Title: Fearfully and Wonderfully Made

NSFW, 18+, MDNI

Content: dubious consent, religious kink, corruption, tentacles, voice kink, praise kink, edging, overstim, mindfuck, double penetration (v and a), cunnilingus.

Notes: Thank you for the idea shooting star anon. This is probably the filthiest thing I’ve ever written. I hope you enjoy it.

Constructive feedback from readers is appreciated.

+++

Your God is one of secrets, veiled and hidden, his mysteries not fully known to you.

+++

When the army approaches, the convent Mother hands you a leather-bound book and tells you to run, as far and as fast as you can.

You stop after the sun begins to set. When you look back, you can see a thick plume of smoke rising in the air, above where the convent should be.

You find yourself alone for the first time in your life. All the temples to your God that you pass are ransacked and burned with no worshippers left.

When you pray, there is no answer. But you keep your faith.

You head east because that is where your God first revealed himself. You keep away from the towns, frightened of the men that gather in the streets with their loud voices and assessing eyes. You are innocent. You know what they would do to someone like you if you were found out.

The next evening, you page through the book that was given to you. Between prayers and invocations for your god it is illustrated: a penis twined in a feeler, spitting pearly beads of come from its fat head, breasts gripped by tentacles, men and women drawn with every hole stuffed, heads flung back in ecstasy.

You feel your crotch grow more sensitive and liquid with each page. You lie on your back and your hands roam under your clothes to pluck your nipples, then glide down your stomach to scratch at your thighs. When you can resist no longer, you open your thighs wide and rub two fingers across your soaking slit and push them inside.

You’re bucking against your fingers, almost at your climax, when you hear a voice.

Stop.

You freeze. There you are my little servant, the voice says, pleased.

After that each time you stop to rest and before you sleep your God is there telling you to touch yourself for him. You feel his presence as you push your fingers into your mouth to suck on and then rub at your clit. You chase your pleasure and each time your Lord tells you to stop, you do. Even when your body is shaking from the need to come. Your needy cunt throbs as you make your way to the place you will finally meet him.

You had been kept pure in the convent, awaiting the ritual that would make you your Lord’s bride. But when he demands you debase yourself you follow his command. He tells you where to go, and in these places, there is always someone willing to take your body and use it.

You will offer up your pain and your pleasure to me, your God says, and I will grow strong again.

You kneel in a stable, a cock pushed in your mouth then down your throat until tears leak from your eyes. At an inn, a man spanks you so hard that when you bounce in his lap after, the fingers digging into your ass leave you gasping. In front of a campfire, two men fill your mouth and cunt with their cocks so the movement of one pushes you deeper onto the other; after, a third man slides into your dripping cunt and his thrusts buckle your arms into the dirt. He pulls out to come and stripes your back with his spunk.

Each time, you climax to the rumble of your Lord’s approval in your head and his name on your tongue. The bruises on your knees, the ruined rasp of your voice, the spilt seed dirtying your flesh. All are marks of your devotion to him.

His voice becomes more powerful, a constant buzz filling your head that makes you shake and tremble.

+++

The temple you find is abandoned. But the altar is still there, surrounded by burnt-out candles.

A cloth-covered statue stands in front of the altar. You remove it, fold down to your knees and gaze at your God. The statue is the green of old copper. A shrouded face devoid of detail except for six eyes made of ruby. Numerous tentacles spill forth from under a mantle. You imagine those tendrils tight on your tender flesh.

You strip yourself bare and read the prayer to invoke your God. The cool air of the temple brings goosebumps to your skin, and you shiver. The anticipation of his arrival makes you wet. You clench your thighs around nothing, aching to be filled.

You know he has arrived by the scent that appears, like the air before the storm.

My most devoted one, he says.

The words warm you, but you are afraid to turn. You keep your eyes on the statue and reply, “My Lord”.

His tendrils slide across your arms and pull them behind your back. Your thighs are forced apart. A sticky tentacle pries its way into your mouth and holds down your tongue. Two more slide up your thighs where they rub in an alternating rhythm across your slit, sliding but not pressing in.

The first tentacle pushes in and seems to grow fatter. The stretch burns. The other rubs against your clit hard and insistent, and you whimper. Your hips twitch, wanting more. You feel your Lord touch the edges of your mind, and then push deeper, into your memories, even as the tentacle pushes deeper into your hole.

You are pressed to the stone floor of the temple as the length of the tentacle inside you rams in and out of your cunt with a squelching sound. The one in your mouth twines with your tongue and pulls. You feel the chilled stone floor against your cheek but also –

-- your hair being pulled as your face is fucked and –-

-- your already red and puffy nipples being bitten and --

-- come spattering over your face as you grind your hips back on another man’s cock and --

-- you feel your orgasm seize your body whole and --

Time stops, and you are held on the precipice of your orgasm.

You have made yourself my perfect servant, and you will reap the rewards.

And your orgasm crashes down and your God says, Now we begin.

Tentacles lift you and you are splayed on your back over the altar, your legs held wide. Your hands are released, and your God looms over you. You cannot see his face, only the suggestion of many eyes that makes you dizzy to look at. Your God dips his head, and a ridged tongue appears from under his hood. It rasps over your nipples making you squirm and then trails down to your stomach where it stops.

Hold yourself open for me.

You pull your cunt lips wide for his inspection. You see yourself then, through your lord’s eyes – your chest heaving, and your hole stretched ready to be fucked into - and feel his hunger.

So delicate, he says. So desperate.

His tongue laps against you, the irregular surface causing shocks of pleasure when it flicks over your clit. It wriggles inside you, torturously slow until you are filled to the brim. When his tongue begins to move your hands drop to the cool stone of the dais and you scrabble uselessly for purchase.

You cry out with loss when the tongue is removed, and then again with delight when he sheaths himself in your cunt with the thick tentacle that juts out of his mantle where a man’s cock would be. Two smaller tentacles spread your cheeks and drip fluid across your asshole, circling and pushing in you in a sinuous glide. Your body is full to bursting, and it trembles, overstimulated. The exquisite ache builds and when you climax again, it rips through you with every muscle tensing and then relaxing.

Your now limp body is buffeted by the three tentacles’ increasingly punishing thrusts, and you hear a loud “uhuhuhuh” echoing off the walls of the temple. Your foggy mind realizes that the noise is coming from you.

The tentacles press deep with a final hard grind and fluid spurts from them. The liquid fills your cunt and asshole. The two tenacles in your ass slip out, and you feel the fluid leak out of you and drip onto the floor.

A feeler plucks the hood from your God’s head. Another holds your face so you cannot look away.

You see your God’s face.

It is beautiful.

It is terrifying.

Looking into your Lord God’s many eyes, the most afraid and most joyful you have ever been, you think that this is what you were made for. To service your God in any way he sees fit.

You feel his approval clamour through your body. You come again clenching on the tentacle still spearing your cunt, and shake apart.

Then, all is dark.

+++

After, you crawl down from the altar and stand on legs that are as wobbly as a newborn colt. And it does feel like you have just been born, changed into something new.

Your God wraps you in a robe of silk, embroidered with a coiling design you remember from the convent. Draped in it, you walk out of the abandoned temple with your Lord God’s fluids still leaking out of you.

There is no fear left in you. You know what you must do: go and create new converts in any and every way your Lord asks.

[messenger-of-babel]

Coloured Red

Summary: He likes you in his colour, just not that like that. (Jason Todd x reader)

Word Count: 2.1K

Notes: blood and injury. Hope everyone's having a good week so far! Not my favouriteeeeee Jason piece I have written but please enjoy anyways. xx

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It wasn't supposed to happen like this.

Never like this.

He had been working out of the manor for a few days, something he was already reluctant to do. However, you had sent him off to "work" with a bright smile and a kiss on the cheek, wishing him well for whatever convention Librarians had. Instead of your boyfriend being the gruff librarian sorting returns every night, he was in fact the red masked vigilante cooped up in the cave, pacing back and forth in front of the Bat computer while Tim tried to trace their latest suspect.

Dick had called him back for some extra firepower in the latest case, and if he hadn't owed him one Jason would be back with you in a heartbeat. "Get anything?" he grunts to Tim, who's fingers are typing strings of code into the keyboard.

"Not yet," he hums, the younger man's face twitching with annoyance as the firewall warning flashes across the screen again.

"Give it time, Jay. we don't want to let them know we're onto them." comes Dick, who’s leaning against a railing and still fully suited up from his earlier patrol. "I've checked all through The Cauldron and Southside, no trace of them there. Penguin must have closed up shop around Cobblepot Steel when he started working with his new friend. Going through great lengths to gatekeep his new buddy from us." he hums.

"Well I want to get this meet and greet over with," Jason grumbles, crossing his arms while he scuffs his boots impatiently.

"Bee in your bonnet, Red?" Dick calls and Jason scoffs.

"You put it there. You wanted me to help take 'em down while the Bat is out of town with Superscout, but you don't even know where they are. I've spent a full night just waiting for boy genius here to get a lock."

Dick puts his hands up in mock surrender. "We'll be done soon, promise. Then you can go home to your sweetheart. Hey, you can even say you came back early just to see them. I'm helping you get brownie points." he grins, nimbly dodging the hand Jason had swung out to slap the back of his head. "Where are they anyways? Their place?"

"Safehouse." Jason grunts back. "Staying at mine while I'm helping you lot. Old Gotham, near the GCPD. Besides, I told them to mark down I'd be back tonight on the calendar anyways."

Dick whistles. "Didn't think you had a place that close to the cops."

Jason just shrugs. "They're not after me, and if they were it would be somewhere they wouldn't look. Plus it's a nice distance from you all." he grumbles.

Dick pushes off the wall coming to lean over a monitor near Tim. "Well if our mystery person is teaming up with Penguin, and he isn't interested in the drug business, what is he here for?" he hums, eyes focused on the map of Gotham that Tim has pulled up. He taps the screen after a second, zooming in. "Here. Dixon Docks. We haven't checked here yet. Penguin used to smuggle through here, but it also became a bit of a meet up spot. He might have gone back to old ground."

"Yeah, but Penguin shifted his focus into drug running. Bruce put him under pretty heavy surveillance, managed to shut down a lot of his operations for a while. You really think he'd be that stupid to start trying to smuggle firearms again?" Tim piped up.

"Maybe. But Maybe its not firearms. This spot used to be a mob meeting spot. He never visited the operation personally unless-"

"Unless he wanted to order a hit." Jason cut off his older counterpart, voice becoming modulated as he fixed his mask to his face. "Seems there's a chance his new play pal is a hitman."

"For who though?" Tim asks.

"Maybe the hit isn't one Penguin is ordering. maybe the Penguin's selling info." Dick calls, testing his in earpiece before giving Jason a nod. "Me and Hood are going in to take a look. Track our location and keep the cameras on."

Tim nods while Jason and Dick head for the bikes, mounting each of their respective vehicles.

"Finally something to do." Jason groans, stretching his arms above his head before catching the cocky grin from Dick speeding past him. "Show-off." he murmurs, his own engine roaring to life as he follows suit.

They had cleared the dock pretty easily, Dick's hunch being correct. Between the two of them the middlemen and thugs were strewn across the floor of the warehouse, and Tim had already called the GCPD to come pick them up for the arrest. "No sign of our flightless friend." Jason grumbled, stepping over an unconscious thug.

"Nor our new mystery visitor." Dick concludes, tucking his escrima under his arm as he goes through the stack of papers at the makeshift desk tucked behind some shipping containers. Jason has known the eldest robin enough to know when he was worried, and the tight way he now held his body was a clear sign. "You find something?" he asks, boots thudding as the come to stand beside him.

"You think Oz was beginning to catch on?" Dick asks quietly, turning the page to show Jason the blurry CCTV photo of Bruce, a crude cowl and ears drawn over the image in sharpie.

"Shit," Jason breathed, taking some of the papers from Dick and beginning to flick through it. "This is all of us." He confirms, worry beginning to gnaw at his bones. There were photos of Tim leaving the city library and entering the Wayne Tower. Photos of Dick back in Bludhaven in a police uniform, photos of him at galas. Photos of Damian at school and meeting with Alfred. The more he flipped through them the more his heart dropped. There was a photo for nearly every 'apprentice' of Batman, surrounded by question marks.

"Whoever is joining the dots isn't fully convinced of it themselves." he murmurs, blood freezing as he sees a photo of himself there. A photo with you on his arm next to him. Dick comes to peer over at it, cursing under his breath.

"Hood, don't panic-" he tries to soothe, but Jason is already pushing past him to tear at more of the documents on the desk. He rifles through the papers, the sound of approaching sirens and Nightwing's urging to leave the scene deafened by the ringing in his ears. In his tightly clenched hands there was a leger, with a list of addresses. In the middle, was his address. The address he had given you, highlighted in yellow.

"We need to go." Dick urges, hurrying him to mount his bike. Jason jaw clenches, and he shoves the piece of paper into his brothers’ hands.

"Yeah. We do." he grits out, but he hopes Dick can't hear the sheer fear held behind his teeth. His bike speeds off, roaring through the side street they came on as he reroutes for Old Gotham. Dick looks down, eyes wandering over the red written date next to the highlighted address, tonight date. "Jesus," he breathes out, quickly following behind his brother before he does something reckless.

Jason doesn't think that he'd ever driven that fast since he'd been on the run from Bruce, throwing the bike into park so violently outside his apartment that the tires burnt as they squealed. Dick wasn't too far behind him, calling out for him to wait in between talking to Tim on the other end of his earpiece. His heart is thudding in his ears, hands feeling cold as he scales the stairs to the fourth floor, knocking on the door rapidly. He didn't care he was in his full suit. He could make some bullshit excuse if you were fine, claiming some noise disturbance or the wrong door.

But if he wasn't?

Then someone was going to fear the fact he was already suited up.

"I told you to wait, Hood-" Dick snaps at him, slightly out of breath from having to run behind him. Jason doesn't listen, shoulder slamming into the door when you don't come to answer.

"Don't you have the key?" Nightwing hisses to him.

"Left it in my civvies." he grunts, stumbling slightly as the door gives way. "I wasn't really expecting to…" he trails off, bile rising in his throat and blood draining from his face. Dick pushes in next to him, still scolding. "You can't just go in like this-" he cuts himself off, catching sight of what Jason was burning into his brain. "Oh no, Jay..." he whispers, but Jason is already moving to your side.

His hands come to your head, softly cradling it in his large palms. Two fingers come to press against your neck, his breathing evening out as he finds a weak pulse. "They're still kicking." He grunts out, other hand coming to cradle the back of your head. He closes his eyes trying to scrub the image of you lying there in the living room, sprawled on the carpet surrounded by the shards of the broken window and white rug drinking your blood.

Your eyes flicker weakly and you make a faint cry when he presses down on the wound by your ribs, a sound that tears him up inside. "Shhh," he tries to say softly, but the modulator makes it robotic, stripping the emotion from it. "I gotta put pressure on it. Did you see who did it?" he asks. He can faintly hear Dick calling for Robin on the end of the commlink, calling for paramedics to come to his address.

He hates how warm his hands feel, gloves heating up as if they were stealing the life force from out of you. Blood is flecked across your lips from the spray, faintly mumbling the words, "didn’t see them."

He nods along. "That’s okay, that’s okay." he murmurs, but he wasn't sure who he was telling that to.

"Red Hood…" you groan out, hand coming the grip his wrist as he pushes firmer on the bullet wound. Your fingers are bloody, smearing the crimson across his suit. "You gotta…you gotta find my boyfriend," you cough weakly. "They were here for him. He’s just…he's just a librarian…" your eyes tear up, throat swelling with the weight of your words. "He was just coming back tonight…oh god…you have to find him… what if they-" you sob, causing your face to scrunch up at the pain that ripples through your body. "I wanna…I wanna see him."

Jason's heart is tearing into pieces as Dick kneels to your other side, hands coming to your non-wounded side as he preps the area, Tim faintly heard giving instructions on how to stabilise you until the paramedics arrive. Jason shakes his head, fighting back tears. Despite the side glance he gets from Nightwing, he pulls one hand up to his face, feeling for the latch under his jaw to release his mask.

When he pulls it away his eyes are red, tears already built in the corners. His lips have a tremble that hasn't been felt since he was in the single digits on the streets, and his hairline is beaded with sweat from worry. He offers you a weak smile, unable to stop the shooting pain that wracks his mind watching the hazy confusion on your face.

"Jay?" you whisper, the word more mouth than sound. He nods reluctantly.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

Oh god, it wasn’t supposed to go like this.

He dreamt of the day that he could tell you his identity, of his real profession. He imagined all the best scenarios of you accepting him, of letting him spin you around the kitchen when he picked you up by the waist like he did so often. Of telling you while you both read together on the couch, your legs pulled across his lap. He never imagined the bad scenarios. He pushed those to the back of his mind. But as you reached up with bloodstained fingers, dragging the sticky red across his cheek in that oh so familiar motion, he knew right then that this was the worst situation imaginable.

He lets his tears wash the red from your fingers, trying to blink them out of his eyes so he could focus on saving you.

"Hold on, sweetheart." he murmured weakly, desperately praying for the wailing of the siren to reach his ears.

He had always said how much he loved red, loved you in the colour. Loved you in his colour.

Now he was thinking he never wanted to see you bathed in this much red ever again.

[the-cosmic-cauldron]

Astrology Observations: ☺️😍🥰😘🤪Your Turn-On’s Based on Your Rising Sign 😍🥰😘🤪

Aries Rising: As an Aries rising, you are attracted to individuals who are lively and full of enthusiasm. You appreciate those who exude energy and prioritize self-care, taking the time to nurture their physical well-being. You find it appealing when people validate and compliment you, making you feel extraordinary. Additionally, you are drawn to versatile and creative individuals who express themselves confidently, whether through various hobbies or a unique way of speaking. A captivating voice can also intrigue you, especially if it draws you in when they share stories. You admire driven and ambitious people who strive for their ideal lives, and you are inspired by those who maintain a positive outlook, even during tough times. You also have a preference for assertive individuals, as well as those who are romantic and affectionate. You enjoy the excitement of dating and socializing, and you are particularly fond of people who can brighten a room and bring joy to others.

Taurus Rising: As a Taurus rising, you might find yourself attracted to individuals who are passionate about their lives and specific lifestyles, particularly those with a strong aesthetic appeal. You may be drawn to certain styles, such as someone's fashion choices, which can be a significant factor in your attraction. The way a person dresses, their movements, and even their subtle mannerisms can captivate you. It could be something as simple as how they gesture while speaking, their walking style, or the way they look at you or gaze into the distance. These small details can ignite your interest. Additionally, intelligence can be a major turn-on; engaging in stimulating conversations that challenge your thinking can be incredibly appealing. You may also appreciate individuals who are perceptive and aware, as they can create a strong connection. Education plays a role too; you might be attracted to well-educated people or those with a genuine desire to learn and grow. Whether it's through fitness, furthering their education, or organizing their lives, you admire those who strive for self-improvement. Cleanliness and good hygiene are also important to you, as is a pleasant scent. You may find yourself drawn to nature lovers or those who prioritize their health, whether they have a muscular build or a lean physique.

Gemini Rising: You are attracted to individuals who are visually appealing. You tend to gravitate towards those who fit conventional standards of attractiveness and can present themselves in a way that appeals to a wide audience. You might appreciate the girl-next-door vibe or a simple look in a man, or perhaps you prefer someone who embodies a gentlemanly style or classic beauty. You are also drawn to femininity, as well as masculinity, which means you may find androgynous individuals appealing or women who adopt a more masculine fashion sense, as well as men who embrace a more feminine aesthetic. You appreciate people who can engage in meaningful conversations, and you are particularly attracted to those who are sociable. You enjoy well-spoken individuals who express themselves in artistic or poetic ways. You value calmness in others and prefer those who are balanced rather than erratic. You appreciate open-minded individuals who can consider different viewpoints and avoid jumping to conclusions or engaging in arguments. You are drawn to effective communicators who can address both major and minor issues. Additionally, you are attracted to romantic individuals who go out of their way to create special moments, whether through grand gestures or simple acts of affection. You enjoy receiving flowers, gifts, and physical affection, and you appreciate those who openly express their love for you.

Cancer Rising: With Cancer rising, you are attracted to intense individuals. You find yourself drawn to those who exude mystery yet maintain a laid-back demeanor. The allure of someone who is difficult to read excites you, especially if they keep their personal details to themselves. You appreciate people who are introspective and prefer small social circles, as they tend to be more trustworthy. The thrill of pursuing someone who plays hard to get adds to your interest in them. You value individuals who can safeguard your secrets, allowing you to share your thoughts freely without fear of them being disclosed. You are captivated by those with a strong sense of sexuality and personal power, often gravitating towards ambitious and creative individuals who stand out from the crowd. Their emotional depth and authenticity resonate with you, making them even more appealing.

Leo Rising: You are attracted to bold and adventurous individuals who pursue fun and meaningful lives. You appreciate those with deep beliefs and a sense of spirituality, often exploring the depths of existence. You also like people who learn through experience, valuing raw and instinctual individuals who embrace their mistakes. Their ability to show vulnerability makes them more relatable to you. You enjoy being around free-spirited and adventurous people who are open to trying new things, as it creates a comfortable atmosphere. You appreciate honesty and direct communication, especially when it’s delivered in a way that’s straightforward yet considerate. You are drawn to those who enjoy outdoor activities and have a lively sense of humor. Big personalities and philosophical thinkers captivate you, especially those who think deeply and challenge conventional ideas. You value authenticity and appreciate individuals who embrace both their flaws and strengths, as you prefer to see people as they truly are. You are particularly attracted to those who are spontaneous and ready to act without overthinking, enjoying the company of people who can think quickly and adapt on the go.

Virgo Rising: You are attracted to ambitious individuals who know what they want. Decisive people excite you because they can set the tone and have a clear vision. You appreciate those who are achieving their goals and can articulate their accomplishments. You enjoy being around strong-minded individuals who are firm in their beliefs and opinions. You find comfort in the presence of someone who is self-assured and knows their identity. Additionally, you prefer reserved and quiet people who may take time to open up, as you appreciate those who are more understated. Physical appeal also matters to you; you are drawn to those who dress well and present themselves nicely. You find authority and power attractive, especially in individuals who may seem intimidating or difficult to approach. You admire people who lead organized lives and maintain simplicity, as well as those who are dependable and consistent. You are captivated by individuals with unique perspectives and intelligence, often connecting with them on a mental level before anything else. Lastly, you are intrigued by someone who can be sensual yet reserved, saving that side of themselves for you.

Libra Rising: You are drawn to unique individuals who often differ from you or have had different life experiences. You appreciate people from diverse backgrounds and races, and you may find yourself attracted to those who express themselves in unconventional or quirky ways, or who have unusual habits, careers, or lifestyles. You might also be interested in popular individuals who are well-liked. Humanitarian qualities appeal to you, so you may be attracted to those involved in volunteer work or organizations, as you find it attractive when someone is dedicated to helping others and contributing to the greater good. You could also be drawn to politically active individuals who strive for the empowerment and betterment of society, especially those who dream of a brighter future or take steps to make it happen. You admire people with grand ideas and a vivid imagination, and their intellectual capacity excites you. Additionally, you value personal space and appreciate relationships that allow you freedom when apart. You may be attracted to unconventional lifestyles and find intellectual stimulation appealing, as you enjoy being inspired to think bigger and broaden your perspective.

Scorpio Rising: As a Scorpio rising, you are naturally attracted to ethereal and otherworldly individuals who seem disconnected from this dimension. You find yourself drawn to those with unique spiritual beliefs that expand your perception of reality. Artistic people with creative talents and innovative hobbies captivate you, as do gentle and romantic souls who engage all your senses. You appreciate companions who provide an escape from the mundane, turning fantasies into reality. You are particularly attracted to those who are expressive, empathetic, and can intuitively understand your emotions, often finishing your thoughts. You also admire individuals with special abilities or those who have faced significant challenges yet remain humble and kind. Kindness and sensitivity to your well-being are qualities that resonate with you. Additionally, you are intrigued by people who perceive reality differently, offering a calming and approachable perspective on life rather than a harsh one.

Sagittarius Rising: As a Sagittarius rising, you are drawn to individuals who are confident and self-assured. You appreciate those who are bold and pursue their desires without hesitation. You admire courage and self-esteem, valuing people who can overcome challenges. Unique personalities that stand out and possess social charisma attract you, especially those who are well-liked and have a positive reputation among friends and family. You respect hard work and dedication, and you are particularly fond of those who actively pursue you and invest effort into the relationship. You are attracted to strong, athletic individuals who take action and focus on self-improvement. You prefer people who demonstrate their feelings through actions rather than words, and you find generosity incredibly appealing. You enjoy being around creative thinkers who can make quick decisions and engage in stimulating conversations. Their diverse range of topics keeps you intrigued. Additionally, you are captivated by someone’s intuition and their ability to connect with their authentic, primal self. You appreciate when they feel free to express themselves fully around you, always seeking to capture your attention.

Capricorn Rising: For the Capricorn rising turn on’s reveals a fascination with individuals who are slow and steady. You appreciate those who are methodical and take their time in their actions. You enjoy being around well-dressed, fashionable people who exude a sense of beauty, whether conventionally attractive or possessing standard appealing features. You are drawn to gentlemen and classy women. You find it attractive when someone communicates clearly and carries themselves with self-respect. Additionally, you are captivated by elements that enhance beauty, such as makeup, nail polish, and stylish haircuts. You admire tenacity and the drive to achieve, as well as stability and financial success in others. You are attracted to those who are not overly emotional, preferring calm individuals who can reason effectively. Physical affection and touch are important to you, as you enjoy sensations like skin-to-skin contact, massages, and cuddling. Words of affirmation, declarations of love, love letters, and poetry make you feel cherished and admired. You appreciate someone who seeks to make your life easier, constantly nurturing you and giving thoughtful gifts. You are also attracted to those who introduce you to the finer things in life and invest in your experiences, making you feel valued and desired.

Aquarius Rising: As an Aquarius rising, you are drawn to individuals who stimulate your intellect. You seek someone who can unlock new perspectives in your mind, someone who encourages you to think differently. You are attracted to those who are versatile and creative, embracing spontaneity in their lives. You appreciate adaptable people who pursue their desires and thrive in social settings, especially extroverts who enjoy engaging with others. A good sense of humor and wit are essential, as you love engaging in intellectual conversations that excite you. You also value partners who are open about their sexuality and willing to explore new experiences together. You find joy in sharing first-time adventures with someone who possesses a creative spirit, often seeking out those with a touch of genius. You are attracted to individuals who communicate quickly and confidently, and you desire a connection that feels like a deep friendship. Being able to vent and share your thoughts freely with your partner is a significant turn-on for you.

Pisces Rising: As a Pisces rising, you are drawn to deeply emotional individuals, yet you often find yourself attracted to reserved and shy types—those who exude an innocent charm and seem to have their lives in order. You are captivated by someone who presents a refined image and tends to be selective about who they let into their world. Mysterious people who are difficult to get to know intrigue you, but you also appreciate those who maintain deep, meaningful relationships with others. You are particularly attracted to nurturing individuals who genuinely want to support and help others. Expressive people who know what they want in life also catch your interest, especially when it comes to physical affection, admiration, love letters, and other intimate gestures. You cherish spending quality time with someone you love, even if it’s just lying next to them and gazing into their eyes. Their words and the way they communicate with you are significant turn-ons, as is their emotional capacity to understand and embrace all that you bring to the relationship. You value empathy, consideration, and compassion for your feelings. You appreciate a partner who respects your need for space while also being close to you. Loyalty and a deep commitment to building a strong relationship are essential for you. You are also attracted to someone who keeps their more adventurous side private, shared only between the two of you. Lastly, emotional intelligence and a good sense of humor are qualities that you find particularly appealing.

[nihilityuniverse]

𝟎𝐭𝐡 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐛𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫 | 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭 𝐱 𝐅𝐄𝐌! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇ 𝗦𝗲𝗰𝗿𝗲𝘁 𝗖𝗿𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗿 ᴏꜰ ᴛᴇʏᴠᴀᴛ 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗕𝗼𝘀𝘀.

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MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

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Story inspired by Acheron's Lore, Power, and Personality...

ENG is not my First language

I do not own Genshin Impact or any of the pictures used.

Do NOT Repost

Story also available on WattPad: Chapter 0 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6

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Chapter 0 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏

𝐀 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭'𝐬 𝐋𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐨

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Eight members of the Harbingers had gathered in the palace-like church. Inside, the air was so frigid that the nation's flags began to freeze, crackling under the intense cold. No candles lit the space; only the ethereal glow of the polar lights streaming through the stained-glass windows provided illumination.

A petite woman with long hair, her eyes concealed behind a delicate white lace mask, hums a familiar lullaby from her deceased friend as she leans against a casket. Her voice echoes softly in the frozen stillness.

The eight other Harbingers watched her from a distance, each wearing a similar coat of identical design. By order of Her Royal Highness Tsaritsa, all Harbingers were required to attend the funeral, even the elusive 0th Harbinger.

The 0th Harbinger, code name: Innamorati — The Lovers;

A figure shrouded in mystery and danger, Innamorati remained an enigma even to her fellow Harbingers.

Known only by whispers and rumors, she was a being crafted by the Cryo Archon herself, a weapon designed to challenge the Celestial Gods. Hidden away for years, her existence was the subject of much speculation.

Some Harbingers were indifferent, focusing solely on the success of their plans, while others were intensely curious. Pierro, the Director of the Fatui, claimed to know nothing about her, adding to her mystique.

Rumors abounded: some said Innamorati would annihilate anyone who crossed her path; others believed she had perished decades ago, her legend merely a shadow from the past.

What they all knew for certain was that Innamorati had a notorious reputation for forgetting critical missions assigned by Tsaritsa herself. This unreliability made her both feared and ridiculed within their ranks.

"We are gathered here today to remember our dear comrade," an old dwarf with a long nose and mustache solemnly broke the deafening silence. "In honor of her sacrifice, all work shall halt for half a day as the nation mourns her passing."

"Hehe, merely half a day...?" Pantalone laughed coldly, crossing his hands in front of his chest with a mocking smile. "People say the Northland Bank's true currencies are blood and tears... But mayor, even speaking as a banker, that sounds a little unconscionable."

"Rosalyne died in a foreign land," Arlecchino stepped forward, her crimson red X-cross pupils glowing dangerously bright with annoyance. "But you heartless businessmen and dignitaries always find a convenient excuse to remain in the comfort of your homeland..." She frowned. "You couldn't hope to understand, so why don't you keep your mouth shut?! We don't want to make the children cry."

"Hey, c'mon now, even I don't think this is the right time or place for a fight," Childe chipped in, lazily sitting on one of the wooden benches.

"Utterly risible!" Sandrone mocked, and the machine behind her emitted an audible angry sound.

"Though her methods tarnished her honor, Lohefalter's sacrifice is a great pity. Her loss shall not hinder our progress," Capitano's deep voice resonated through the entire palace, catching everyone's attention.

He turned towards the Doctor, his face hidden behind a dark veil. "But Dottore... What of Scaramouche and the Gnosis from Inazuma?"

Dottore smiled, twirling a tube filled with blue liquid between his fingers. "Conventional wisdom holds that Divine Knowledge cannot be rationally comprehended. After conquering the Divine Gaze, he will make his next move."

The heavy, frozen church door creaked open, allowing the bitter winter air to sweep inside. Everyone turned their gaze towards it, even Columbina, who had paused her humming. 

A woman, clad in a coat of the same design as theirs, stepped into the church, holding a red paper umbrella. The door closed behind her with a resounding bang. The click of her heels on the marble floor echoed through the hall, a stark contrast to the silence that had filled the room.

Her face remained obscured by shadows, yet every person in the room knew instinctively that she was not someone to be trifled with. 

The sense of her power and presence was palpable, a mutual understanding among them all. To cross her would be to invite disaster.

This was Innamorati, the 0th Harbinger, a figure shrouded in mystery and danger, whose very presence commanded respect and fear.

As she advanced, the air seemed to grow even colder, the weight of her presence adding to the already frigid atmosphere. Each step she took resonated with authority, and the silence in the room deepened, a silent acknowledgment of her status among them.

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Finally, you found your way to the place where the funeral was to be held. You hadn't thought you would make it in time, given the ferocity of the snowstorm that had nearly obscured your path and made the journey treacherous.

Your heels clicked sharply with each step as you approached the group of people gathered at the center, where the casket lay. You set your red paper umbrella on one of the wooden benches, the action deliberate and unhurried. 

As the shadow over your face disappeared, the polar light from the stained-glass windows illuminated your features.

With the shadow gone, the collective breath of the eight Harbingers halted involuntarily.

Your beauty was striking: peach-colored, plump lips; long, dark eyelashes framing eyes that seemed to hold the very essence of winter. Your skin was pale and flawless, with a cold radiance that mirrored the icy surroundings. Your presence was both ethereal and commanding, a juxtaposition of delicate grace and chilling power.

You stopped a few steps before the group of Harbingers—your comrades—and looked up at them. 

"0th Harbinger, Innamorati... That is what they call me. You may call me whatever you wish," you introduced yourself, your voice ethereal and soft, yet so cold and lifeless it sent shivers down their spines. "This must be the first time we meet."

"You are quite late, Lord Innamorati," Pulcinella, the old dwarf, addressed you with a mix of respect and caution.

After all, The top-ranked Harbingers, from rank 1 to No. 3, possess powers that can rival the gods. So what about No. 0? Could she surpass the powers of the gods? Or even be greater?

You let out an annoyed sigh. "All the snow-covered streets look the same, and the blizzard did not make navigating to this gathering any easier."

Pantalone chuckled, turning towards you with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

"If I had known, I would have taken you with me in my carriage, Lady Innamorati. Alas, I am left to wonder why there were no escorts ready for you. I thought I had ordered the highest-ranked Skirmishers for your protection." His voice was dangerously smooth, laden with speculation, hinting at the rumors of you annihilating anyone who crossed your path.

Before you could respond, Childe interjected from the side. "Huh? The oh-so-feared Innamorati getting lost in a mere snowstorm? This is truly a sight to behold." His tone dripped with mockery. 

"Were you also getting lost on the way to your missions?" His voice carried an angry undertone, bitterness seeping through his words. 

He had often been the one to hurriedly take on your missions at the last minute, running from one nation to another like a lackey. The mission to obtain the Geo Archon's Gnosis had been assigned to you, not him, nor the now-deceased Signora. In the end, he had faced severe repercussions after the Northland Bank had to pay heavy reparations.

If gazes could kill, Childe would have been long dead under Pantalone's icy stare. Though his slight smile remained, his eyes closed behind his glasses, he radiated a murderous aura. He longed to hear your voice again and to capture your attention. Such a rare opportunity shouldn't be wasted.

"Insolent child! How dare you—!" Sandrone hissed at Childe, her anger palpable. She, too, feared inciting your wrath. If Childe weren't a fellow Harbinger, Sandrone would have killed him long ago for destroying her ruin guard factory.

"It's time to end tonight's foolish theatrics." 

A deep, husky voice resonated through the church, cutting through the cold silence like a blade.

The man stepped forward from the shadows, his right side concealed by a dark mask. It was Pierro, the Director of the Fatui, and his presence commanded instant respect.

His voice, cold and demanding, echoed with authority as he advanced towards the casket.

"Right now, you have no captive audience," he said, his gaze sweeping over the assembled Harbingers and guests, silently commanding them to gather and pay heed.

You stood on the opposite side of Pierro, your own presence a stark contrast to his imposing figure.

"Let every worthy sacrifice be carved in ice, and let this nation endure for all time," Pierro intoned, his voice carrying the weight of solemn duty.

The assembly lowered their heads in reverence, eyes closing as he delivered the farewell speech. Your hand drifted absently towards your Divine Key, a subconscious gesture.

"In the name of Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa," Pierro continued, his voice imbued with a steely resolve, "we will seize authority from the gods."

After several minutes of mournful meditation, Pierro broke the silence and left the building, his movements purposeful and commanding.

The others followed in silent procession, a testament to their respect and shared grief. You took your red paper umbrella, closing your eyes briefly before stepping into the freezing, snow-covered landscape.

"Absolute peace."

As you all departed, the church behind you began to freeze over, layers of crystal ice encasing it under the unyielding winter sky, which shimmered with the ethereal glow of the aurora.

"Such is the gift from the Tsaritsa, such is Her Majesty's benevolence," Pierro declared, his voice carrying a chilling reverence as he halted and gazed up at the celestial lights.

"Now you rest in this coffin, encased in layer upon layer of ice. But, Rosalyne, I promise you..."

"Your final resting place will be the entirety of the Old World," Pierro's voice echoed through the night sky, his farewell imbued with a cold resolve that matched the frozen land around you.

As you watched the polar light dancing across the vast darkness of the sky, a thought surfaced in your mind. You had never known this person, but you had made a promise to someone...

You halted in your steps and glanced back at the frozen church.

Some tasks have to be done, even if they seem pointless.

Amidst the snow, you caught a glimpse of shadowy hands emerging from the icy landscape, reaching out towards the sky one by one, as if seeking transcendence. As you blinked, everything returned to normal.

"Another Memory..."

"Lady Innamorati, is something the matter?" Pierro's voice broke through your reverie as he noticed you staring back at the frozen church.

"...meaningless," you whispered to yourself, yet the faint wind carried your words to Pierro. 

"Pardon?" Pierro asked again, this time capturing the attention of some of the other Harbingers, especially Dottore. The Doctor, ever curious, considered whether you might make an intriguing subject for his experiments.

"It's nothing. Continue without me. I wish to be alone," you ordered, your voice light as silk yet cold as ice. Pierro nodded, casting one last glance at you before leaving. 

Dottore lingered a moment longer, watching you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. As he did, the falling snow seemed to halt and move backward, defying the natural order.

"Existence is fleeting as the dawn's dew," your voice echoed in a dimension separate from the real world, where time had ceased.

Dottore's breath caught as he watched you, disbelief etched across his features. His analytical mind struggled to comprehend the anomaly unfolding before him.

"Yet, I guide the wandering souls on the still waters of oblivion..."

The dimension around you cracked like glass, shattering as you began to walk towards the church.

"...and weep for the departed."

A powerful gust of wind struck Dottore, and in that moment, he perceived everything yet nothing. The world seemed meaningless and empty. He felt his body ascending, his soul slipping away...

"Don't look back..." Your ethereal voice called to him, a beacon of light in the encroaching darkness.

He felt a pull from behind, "Move forward," you whispered. In the next instant, he stood where Pierro had asked if you were alright moments before.

Dottore's breath hitched, his cold heart pounding faster than ever. This was neither a dream nor an illusion. He knew this with certainty. What had just happened? The question echoed in his mind, a mystery as deep as the winter night itself.

One thing was certain: he had unmistakably felt the presence of the Almighty One—the Divine Creator.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Reblog if you like this story

[shiny-jr]

outlander

Warning: Yandere. Gender-neutral reader.

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Leona Kingscholar, Azul Ashengrotto, Kalim Al-Asim, Vil Schoenheit, Idia Shroud, Malleus Draconia. 

Summary: In every land you travel to, there's a god with elemental powers. But why is it that in every nation you arrive to, the gods attempt to make you stay?

Note: Why has no one done a genshin x twst thing? This is more of a concept idea than anything else. I might do a series with it, or not, or just random posts. Feel free to ask about it or request stuff for it.

This must be a dream, either that or a never-ending nightmare.

Waking up alone on a sandy beach, as if washed ashore, was disorientating. There was nothing else on the shore save for shells and the occasional crab, no debris indicating a wreck and no scattered belongings. All you had on you were the clothes on your back, which were a pair of shorts and an oversized t-shirt, your pajamas.

In the center of your palms, was a marking you had never seen before, like a freshly painted tattoo in the shape of a tiny key. As curious as the strange new markings were and you wondered how they even got there, there was a larger question looming:

How did you get here?

GRIM

There was a cat on the beach. At least, it looked like a cat. A talking feline, with gray fur and the most impossible feature of blue fire lightly simmering in his ears.

It spoke, just like a human, with a grating high-pitched voice. It was a devilish little beast, with little fangs sharper than his comebacks that he supposed were funny.

The feline pridefully announced his name: Grim.

And when you told Grim your story of how you woke up by the water's edge with no recollection of how you got here and little to your name, the creature didn't appear to care. However, when he spoke of elements being used by people and names of nations and cruel living gods you never once heard of, only then was he very vaguely intrigued. Perhaps it was amusement, as he laughed and called you stupid for not even knowing of The Seven.

That's when you heard a growl, not from behind his fangs but from his stomach. If you looked at him from the right angle, he looked quite scrawny. The poor thing was hungry, you realized.

All it took was an offering of cans of tuna found in an empty cabin nearby, and you had him in your grasp. Following you around was only temporary, he insisted, he'd go along so long as there was food. While a talking cat was not the most conventional of guides, it was better than nothing, especially since he knew basic knowledge of each nation and where the nearest sign of civilization was located.

HEARTSLABYUL

Through the winding dark woods where mysterious creatures lurked in hollow trees and dead end paths, were meadows of flowers and peaceful grooves. However, don't let the tranquillity of nature fool you. In the distance were mountains– not actually mountains, but volcanoes and hot sprints along this land's border.

It's been said that the very millions of roses and other greenery in this land, was formed when ash rained down on dry barren earth for nearly a month. Ash from those very dormant volcanoes that were the backdrop to this perfect scenery, which came in huge black clouds thousands of years ago and blanketed the earth.

A god, an archon, the deity of law that rained hell on earth over thousands of years ago.

Long ago this land was a country of criminals ruled by a god of chaos that reveled in havoc and disorder. Among the mayhem, was a small deity of fire with mighty powers and a vision for a future he was determined to see. Riddle, is what the deity was called.

Riddle gained a number of followers to listen to his words, and he created order. A small feat compared to the many wicked still running about in a lawless land ruled by a god that valued anarchy. So, using newfound strength, the deity of fire drew forth molten lava from the mouths of the northern volcanos, burning all those in its path while the deadly plumes of smoke and ash suffocated those that remained. Atop the remains of the destroyed towns and cities, he built a new nation of order for his loyal followers.

Today, it is a thriving nation filled with flowers and greenery. However, there is one issue. The god of pyro, Riddle, is a tyrant. Every law is expected to be followed without question and without fail, beheadings have become nearly a daily occurrence with the criminals often being charged with mistakingly picking flowers on Wednesdays, drinking the wrong sort of tea post-meals, or playing croquet after five pm.

You were fortunate to be spared after your audience with the god of law, for breaking the rule: one must never bring a cat to a formal affair. Before he could burn you were you stood, you interjected, answering that your companion was no cat, so you had broken no rule.

Well, he promptly apologized for the misunderstanding and in turn, offered to make up for it by inviting you to a tea party. It would be best to except his invitation, afterall, he was the same deity that buried nearly an entire country in lava and ash, then built his kingdom atop their remains. He was a tyrant that beheaded and burned people on the daily. It was wise not to get on his bad side. Besides, he appears to have taken a fancy for you. Riddle implores that you tell him more of your world while you ignore the whispers of rebellion.

There is no leaving Heartslabyul, not without the explicit permission from the god of law. The borders with their volcanoes burn any would-be invaders, allowing passage only to merchants and travelers who have received the pyro deity's blessing. Why would Riddle ever give you his blessing to see you go?

SAVANACLAW

Across the volcanoes and hot springs of the borders, the mountains turn green with dense jungles. Across the river lies the savanna where the world's most wondrous creatures run free. Times have been turbulent, the shaking ground was evidence of troubles with this nation's divine beings, or rather, now single divine being.

Earthquakes have always been a sign of something occurring either for a purpose or unintentionally by someone else. The harsher the quake, the greater the importance of the event. And not too long ago, a ginormous tremor shook the entire globe. Something of major importance had happened.

A god, an archon, the deity of intellect was the new sovereign after tragedy befell his elder brother.

In the past the land was under the protection of the god of strength, a mighty god worshipped by his people. This god had a young heir who was also beloved by the people. However, most forgot or completely disliked the younger brother of the god of strength, a deity of ground, Leona, who had a burning hated for his brother.

Leona amassed followers of his own in secret. It came as no surprise that the common and the wealthy adored the exalted god of strength. However, the poor detested him, because he offered no help to them, no matter how much they prayed and offered what little they had to his alter. Instead, their prayers for mercy and for a change in luck, were answered by the deity of ground. The change of luck came from the death of the former god and his son, paving the way for a new sovereign.

Today, there is uncertainty in the street. Many of the former worshippers of the god of strength believe in one thing. The god of geo, Leona, is unfit to rule. The poor and mistreated have emerged from hiding places in the shadows, filled with newfound confidence for their was finally a god that answered their prayers. However, there remains a growing tension between both factions. Followers of the new god sing his praises, while followers who mourn for his brother believe that everything is falling into disarray.

You were promptly introduced to the god of intellect by his followers that wished to spread the good word. There was something wrong, you and your companion both agreed. How could a powerful god of strength and his young heir just perish without warning? Something was amiss.

This was just a new follower, at least in his eyes. So he brushed you off, allowing you to partake in the best food and drink only his followers had the privilege of receiving. Testing your luck, you decided you would ask him if he knew of a way home. For now you filled him in, explaining your origins and recent adventures. For such a conniving and arrogant leader, he was surprisingly lax. It even appeared as if he wasn't even listening to your words, just dozing off on some pillows. Your words were at least more interesting to him than the rumors of possible unrest.

Perhaps he does know a way for you to return home, but he doesn't want to tell you. It's as simple as that. He likes the new follower, you. Besides, you're not going. There is always the option of traveling further, but why do so when the geo deity has what you need? Leona greatly loathes betrayal from his own worshippers, so you wouldn't leave Savanaclaw to see another god, would you?

OCTAVINELLE

In the seas dwell creatures of unimaginable horrors living deep within the watery depths, across the ocean over turbulent waves there are islands of paradise. The chain of islands composed warm southern beaches and cold northern snowlands. This may be paradise, but a toll must be paid to even get near the islands.

A tax is applied to all arriving merchants wishing to trade and tourists wishing to step foot on the island. It doesn't make much sense, until you see their towns and cities bursting with trade. Business was booming, apparently. The water is clear and pristine, you could see the vibrant coral reefs and schools of fish swimming below.

A god, an archon, the deity of contracts once came from these very waters when there was no land.

Thousands of years ago there was nothing but ocean out this far away from the mainland. That is, until a deity of water appeared from the depths. He promised a new nation to traveling merchants, so long as they worshipped him. The deity introduced himself as Azul.

Azul had grown bored of the dull happenings under the sea, for he had achieved most things beneath the waves. The ocean could not satisfy his endless greed. He had his sights set on higher elevation, with the lofty goal of being just as powerful on land as he was in the ocean. He moved waves, creating tsunamis outward but revealing islands once hidden by water. The merchants took to land and fulfilled their end of the deal, worshipping him while creating a prosperous nation of deals.

In present day, hardly anyplace can compare to the thriving hub the nation has become. However, loyal followers have begun to see his greed. The god of hydro, Azul, is a charlatan. The ocean in all its vastness was not enough to satisfy his desires, it was why he took to land. For the promise of fulfilling prayers, something always must be given in turn or the worshippers must risk going on a quest. But, it is not always as it seems. One way or another, a prayer asking for something will end in the worshipper becoming in debt to him.

In exchange for an answer to the continued question of how to return home, you have nothing to offer for payment except for ideas. Home was modern, this world was not yet on par with the technology you knew. So you offer ideas of inventions, a device to capture an image in time, a mechanism like a box with wheels, a tool to contact someone miles away.

He believes you're quite bright, you think it false flattery to deceive you but you would be wrong. Your ideas are truly brilliant, and will no doubt earn him more millions and influence in other nations on the mainland! Best to take the compliment with a smile, or else this swindler may find a way to trap you in debt. Azul insists you tell him more of your home and your lucrative ideas. Here, a contract, where he shall sell your ideas as goods and you shall reap the rewards! Whatever hearsay you've heard painting him in a bad light, is defamation! Don't fall for it so easily.

Sailing away from Octavinelle would just be a fool's quest. Unless you can escape on a boat that can weather the harshest of sea storms, there is no stepping foot off the island without the risk of drowning. Don't you have more profitable ideas to share with the hydro deity? If not, just listening to your voice would make Azul content than all the gold in the world could.

SCARABIA

Rolling sand dunes stretch as far as the eye could see, and rocky canyons border a savanna. Sandstorms fill the skies like a dark cloud, covering the dry hot land in a new layer of sand once again. Struggle through the scorching days and blistering cold nights, and there will be an oasis in the center between large flowing rivers.

Life follows the flowing waters, and an enormous oasis is planted in the center of the desert. For miles and miles along the banks, are blooming cities and towns. A great contrast to the desert outside, these settlements are overflowing with water, with the greenest gardens and greatest crops.

A god, an archon, the deity of commerce that gave life to a once barren land.

Thousands of years ago, a terrible famine struck the land. All remaining oasis had shriveled up, leading to starvation. A kind-hearted deity of earth took pity on the people. So he decided to extend a helping hand. People would call the deity Kalim.

Kalim used his abilities to create a lush environment, a vast and incredibly rich oasis out of sand in the middle of the desert. When he walked, grass and flowers sprouted from the sand. In days, he managed to create a garden of tremendous size and design, where his new followers could live in peace and luxury by the rivers. Towns and cities were developed, giving way to a grand nation where he resided in comfort and extravagance, surrounded by people that adored him.

Now there is a grand metropolis where there is just as much gold in the markets as there are flowers. The god of dendro, Kalim, is naive. For thousands of years he has been sheltered and treasured by his people. He is oblivious and clumsy, but at the same time he is not foolish. He knows of the people that have attempted to use his abilities for sinister purposes. Although, no one could guess a conniving being plotting against him, resides in his very own palace.

Exciting adventures and thrilling tales, the god of commerce loves to hear your stories of the outside world! First time foreigners are welcomed with open arms, but you are treated as a rare guest with your unique origin. This might just be the most peaceful land you had ever traveled to.

Come, partake in the celebrations! It's easy to forget that such a laidback and cheerful personality belongs to that of a deity that gave life to this region of the desert. Dance, chat, he wishes to do it all with you! The brightness of the fireworks and lively atmosphere is nearly enough to drown out the presence in the shadows you see from the corner of your eyes. A figure with a piercing gaze, watching the jolly divine being with envy in their eyes. With a power as tempting as his, there would be those wishing to snatch it. Kalim distracts you, offering more food and drink with a smile sweeter than any flower.

Why would anyone ever wish to leave this garden that was Scarabia? The outside, the desert and canyons, were harsh and unforgiving. The god of commerce did not wish to see you risk traveling and getting hurt. The dendro deity invites you to stay in the city! Surely you could be happy here with Kalim, right?

POMEFIORE

On elevated lands, between mountains and hills, were endless forests in which travelers often vanished in or were discovered frozen. A winter wonderland, although this wasn't so delightful. It was beautiful, but a deadly kind of beautiful, where you risked being chased by mysterious beasts or becoming lost in blizzards.

The snow may be pure, it may look picturesque upon frozen lakes and lines of white trees, but looks are deceiving. This was once a serene land with a temperate climate, but it has only gotten colder and colder in more recent months until there was not a single spot of green to be seen.

A god, an archon, the deity of curses who was so bitter like the cold that he caused snow to fall all year round.

Stories have told that the land was once warm in springs and summers, only growing cold whenever the divine being was cross. They were frighteningly beautiful and terrifyingly powerful, regal as royalty but at times wrathful. Vil, is what the deity was referred to.

Vil became envious of an emerging figure, so he invoked powerful blizzards and storms. In recent generations, there have been a growing number of his people breaking off into a separate faction that worshipped a younger compassionate god of healing. Enraged by the betrayal of some followers and resentful with biting jealously, many knew that it was only a matter of time before he would snap. This frightening divine being would not accept being dethroned, he would not allow himself to be demoted in the people's hearts.

Civilization continued to thrive, even despite the never-ending snow. And yet, people cannot help but worry what may happen if the cold doesn't let up by spring. The god of cryo, Vil, was pretentious. Anyone who openly voices their distaste for him or a preference for the god of healing, can expect to be encased in ice and used as a display. No one dares to even utter the name of his rival, for fear of incurring his wrath.

Misfortune brought you before the god of curses' throne. Mistakingly his followers had believed you to be worshippers of the god of healing, which you insisted not to know of. You had simply been lost. Maybe it was your gawking at his ethereal appearance, or the compliment you murmured under your breath, but you were not frozen a punishment.

He decided to interrogate you himself, and through his stern questioning you found yourself a nervous mess as you answered honestly but blabbered far too much. Maybe this deity was amused, much like a king would find humor in a pathetic little jester. The divinity that froze nonbelievers into statues for his palace, found you quite endearing. Vil even once smiled at you when you spoke of inconsequential things, warming his heart to which the clouds carrying snow broke apart if for a moment, causing his followers to go into a frenzy fueled by hope.

When leaving Pomefiore is so much as even mentioned, all exits will be frozen shut by the god of curses. Why even venture outside the palace, when you have earned the favor of the cryo deity? Perhaps the land is warmer, but the neighboring nation is dangerous and he forbids the journey. Why would anyone leave after finally melting Vil's icy cold heart?

IGNIHYDE

A forest of dead trees serves as an ominous welcome, or perhaps it was an omen warning incoming travelers. Slopes gave way to valleys, and along the coasts was a heavy mist that painted the vision gray. Homes and buildings, magnificent temples and crumbling feats of architecture, appeared to be floating in white clouds, but in reality they were situated on cliffsides thick with fog.

In the center of the dying forest, there are ruins of a grand temple once belonging to a god that met a tragic end. However, its remnants are closely guarded by mysterious creatures of air that cannot be touched. Legends say the temple was once a place of worship for a fledgling god related to the main god the nation worships today.

A god, an archon, the deity of innovation that has never once shown his face to the public.

Thousands of years ago, a pair of divine beings appeared. They went largely unnoticed for many years, until their brilliant inventions brought awe to those around them, attracting worshippers and diminishing the power of other local gods. The one remaining brother from this pair, is a deity known as Idia.

Idia created wondrous inventions, unintentionally forming a nation of inventors in the process. Withdrawn, dark, and silent, he is quite the unconventional god and yet he begrudgingly rules nonetheless. As reserved as he may be, he is feared among divinity. All lesser gods aiming for his spot are quickly wiped out by his inventions, without him so much as lifting a finger and using his own abilities. They're reduced to mere memories, as nothing is left of them. In times of old, it was once believed that he was a harbinger of death.

On decent days, the sun may shine on the coast, but most days there are heavy clouds and fog. The god of anemo, Idia, is an enigma. Most think him a ghost, for never appearing and for his abilities. The highest families, the most brilliant inventors, even other divine beings may request an audience, but he will never show. No one has ever seen him, all that's known is he is a figure shrouded in black robes like a grim reaper. There are others who believe there are double, because two figures have been spotted once.

You become the first to see his face purely by accident. It seemed he was just as startled of you, as you were of him. Thankfully, you were not going to be blown off the face of the planet by hurricane-level winds. No other god would help, in fact, they wished to keep you here. So you had to turn to him for assistance in finding a way home.

It was only by promising that he could pet Grim, a deal to which the feline disagreed to, did the god reluctantly hear you out. After your explanation, he scoffed as if looking at a simple equation like 2 + 2. Of course he knew the answer, but he wouldn't give out the assistance you needed. The deal was to hear you out, not help you out. He'd become quite bold in the private conversation, a sharp contrast to his previous anxious demeanor. There was no arguing against he who could slaughter gods with a snap of his fingers. Although you aren't as intolerable as other mortals, this he admits.

Departing from Ignihyde is highly unlikely, given how dense the fog is. You cannot even see the ground you're walking on. While, yes, the anemo deity hasn't assisted you, he will, eventually, probably, maybe... You're the first mortal Idia has ever asked to stay, so why would you turn your back to him?

DIASOMNIA

A wall of impenetrable thorns stands in the way, magically opening and creating a clear-cut path through dense forbidding forests lively with critters. The thorn walls close, effectively trapping you. There was something different. It was unlike all the previous nations, the very air itself felt off. With every step deeper into these whimsical woods, it felt as if you were not alone.

Once upon a time, there was a dragon. No one knows how long the dragon has been alive, only that even the oldest tales say he was already ancient way back when. Valleys were shaped by his claws, the rivers from his tail, rare ore came from his fallen scales buried in the earth, the tallest mountains were but small hills to him.

A god, an archon, the deity of dreams is by far the most powerful and most ancient of all divinity in the world.

Peace was his personal preference, as he enjoyed new company which he never truly received due to his fearsome reputation. However, when other divinity sought out his destruction and his home, the deity of electricity raged. Destruction was left in his wake across the entire globe, and everyone came to know the name Malleus.

Malleus commanded thorns to be raised like walls protecting his home, and constant violent storms to ward off anyone threatening to cause trouble. For hundreds of years, no foreigner was allowed to step foot within the nation's boundaries. Anyone that tried would quickly be reduced to ash, and just a number added to the untold amount he's slayed in order to protect himself and his territory. Kind he may be to his own, but to foes he is merciless. With his black horns and piercing eyes, some refer to him as a devil incarnate.

A land unseen by outlanders, it's peaceful and magical in it's beauty. However, it seems that while your presence may be surprising, it is not a shock. You're taken by knights in gray and black, escorted away. The god of electro, Malleus, has invited you to his castle. There is astonishment and disbelief in people's eyes, a foreigner alive and well. Most like you would have been reduced to particles before they could even step foot past the thorns.

Much to your horror, or relief, once you're brought to the god of dreams, he seems delighted to have you here. It seems your presence was expected, as all he said was, "So you've finally come to see me, hm? I was beginning to grow concerned that perhaps I would have been left out of your list of destinations."

This was the last option, the only one you could turn to in finding a way home. Surely, the most ancient and powerful deity would hold the answer and assist you, since he had been so kind as to allow you inside his nation. Although as welcoming as he may be, you must remember that despite his fang-toothed smile and the twinkle in his eyes, this man– no, god, was archaic and all-powerful. He must have killed more people than you will ever know, wiped out whole armies and flattened entire nations. Malleus tilts his head at you, requesting that you recount your tale, with every minute detail.

This will be the end, there will be no escaping Diasomnia. Of course, you shall not know until later. For now, the god of dreams delights in your stories. You were the first guest he's had in thousands of years, and one of the few who did not wish to slay the legendary dragon that was the electro deity. Malleus knows what you desire, he has seen it in your dreams. However, he will not be kind and grant you what you sought. If he did, then what he desired would then vanish: you.

[julienbakerstreet]

I’ll never get over what an iconic choice it was to make A Scandal In Bohemia the first Sherlock Holmes short story. A Study In Scarlet and The Sign of The Four had already made Holmes a popular character, but he didn’t truly explode in popularity and become the cultural phenomenon we know and love today until after he started appearing in short stories in The Strand. And for the very first story, Doyle chose to write about a woman outsmarting Holmes. Holmes being a misogynist, underestimating a woman, and learning from it.

It’s such a contrast to the two previous books. In A Study In Scarlet, the only woman who is relevant to the mystery (Lucy Ferrier) serves as motivation for the killer. In the flashback passage, she’s depicted in relation to the men in her life. In The Sign of the Four, Mary Morstan takes a more active role in the mystery, seeking out Holmes and accompanying him and Watson through much of the investigation. She’s a woman who works to support herself and Holmes even praises her intelligence. Yet so much of her relevance to the story (beyond being the daughter of a man involved in a mystery) is Watson’s feelings for her. Additionally, she fits so neatly into the damsel in distress archetype that Doyle references it in-text:

“It is a romance!” cried Mrs. Forrester. “An injured lady, half a million in treasure, a black cannibal, and a wooden-legged ruffian. They take the place of the conventional dragon or wicked earl.” "And two knight-errants to the rescue," added Miss Morstan.

Irene Adler is different. She’s an opera singer at a time when female performers were stigmatized as scandalous. She supports herself independently. She’s described as a “spinster” and an “adventuress” (used as another word for mistress). She had an affair with a King and then goes on to marry a man for no plot reason other than she wants to. She’s familiar with male costume and uses it to “take advantage of the freedom which it gives”— freedom which Victorian women were not normally afforded. She’s a contralto with a deeper voice (it’s worth noting that the most common operatic contralto roles are female villains and women playing men). In sum, she has a lot of traits that would read as unconventional to a Victorian audience. Unlike Mary Morstan and Lucy Ferrier, she doesn’t really embody the ideals of a chaste, refined, and benevolent Victorian woman.

The King of Bohemia describes her as jealous and out to ruin him, but it’s revealed that she isn’t interested in him and only keeps the photo to protect herself from him. Holmes is fascinated by her in a way that a lot of readers construe as romantic, but the text explicitly tells us that his interest in her is platonic. She earns Holmes’s respect and admiration as an equal. While she’s presented as an antagonist when the King of Bohemia first describes her, Holmes ultimately views her as a sympathetic person and the King as a rich asshole trying to control her.

Doyle could have easily written the story so that once Holmes switches his sympathies, he helps Irene and her husband get away from the King. It would have been a better look for Holmes not to get outfoxed by a woman and act (as he does in other stories) as a valiant gentleman always willing to assist a woman being mistreated. But instead, Doyle chose to show Holmes as a flawed character who lets his prejudices cloud his judgment and is beaten at his own game by a woman in his very first Holmes short story.

Furthermore, Irene comes out on top using her intellect, rather than falling into the trope of a woman using seduction to beat a man. She’s also better than Holmes at disguise- something he is very skilled at and prides himself on. The story literally ends with Watson writing “The best plans of Mr. Sherlock Holmes were beaten by a woman's wit. He used to make merry over the cleverness of women, but I have not heard him do it of late.” I find it very interesting that the story starts off with Watson saying how emotions would cloud Holmes’ judgment as a reasoner and ends by showing us how his biases hurt his ability to reason.

Irene exhibits dramatically more agency than Lucy or Mary. She drives the mystery rather than being an element of it. One of the reasons female Sherlockians have historically been inclined to identify with Irene Adler is because while male readers get to identify and project onto Sherlock Holmes, female readers gravitated towards the idea of a woman besting Holmes (in part because of his misogyny), earning his respect as an equal, and making Holmes stop being quite so misogynistic.

One of my adaptation pet peeves with Irene Adler is when “the woman” is used as a negative epithet. In A Scandal In Bohemia, Watson specifically says that it is an honorable title that Holmes uses with respect. Although she’s frequently adapted as a villain/antihero, as James Edward Holroyd wrote, “One may fairly claim that the only dubious and questionable aspect of the adventure was the conduct of the three men principally concerned!”

The overarching theme of The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes is righting social injustices. Of the twelve stories in The Adventures, six of them deal with women in varying degrees of trouble because of men who have power over them (SCAN, IDEN, TWIS, SPEC, NOBL, COPP). Three deal with Holmes clearing people of false allegations (BOSC, BLUE, BERY). Many cases also deal with the theme of rich men acting entitled and getting comeuppance (SCAN, REDH, NOBL; and to a lesser extent TWIS, and SPEC). A Scandal in Bohemia combines these themes. Irene is falsely accused of being jealous and trying to ruin the king. The king has used his resources to harass her repeatedly:

“Five attempts have been made. Twice burglars in my pay ransacked her house. Once we diverted her luggage when she travelled. Twice she has been waylaid."

The King of Bohemia is presented as rude, arrogant, and entitled, with Holmes flat-out telling him that Irene Adler is on a higher level than him, despite being of a lower social standing.

A Scandal in Bohemia is also unconventional in the fact that it’s not really a traditional mystery where Holmes is hired to help solve a crime. It was an odd choice for Doyle to reintroduce his detective to readers in this story on so many levels, and I think that’s why it tends to be one of the most popular Holmes stories. It shows Holmes as human and flawed, a man who can recognize his blindspots and grow from them. But of course, the enduring popularity of SCAN is primarily due to Irene Adler herself. Sherlockian spaces have traditionally been male-dominated, with the Baker Street Irregulars only allowing women to join in 1991, 100 years after the publication of SCAN. Although Irene only made one appearance in canon, she captured the hearts and imaginations of so many Holmes fans, and gave female fans assurance that they have an equal claim to everything that Holmes embodies.

[s-soulwriter]

Hello , here are some really basic writing tips.

Intriguing Openings: Start with a bang! Drop your readers into the middle of action or create a mystery that begs to be solved. Make them curious from the first sentence.

Character Backstories: Dive deep into your characters' pasts. Share their quirks, secrets, and defining moments. Readers love discovering what makes characters tick.

Sensory Descriptions: Paint a vivid picture using all five senses. Describe the smell of freshly baked cookies, the feel of a soft summer breeze, or the taste of a sour lemon.

Plot Twists: Keep your readers on their toes with unexpected plot twists. Surprise them by turning a seemingly predictable story into something extraordinary.

Cliffhangers: Leave your audience hanging at the end of a chapter or post. A well-placed cliffhanger will have them eagerly awaiting the next installment.

Metaphors and Similes: Add color to your writing with creative comparisons. For example, "Her smile was as bright as a thousand suns," adds a vivid and poetic touch.

Character Relationships: Explore complex dynamics between characters. Highlight their conflicts, alliances, and the evolution of their relationships throughout the story.

Symbolism: Incorporate symbols or motifs that carry deeper meaning. They can enhance the overall theme and give readers something to ponder.

Narrative Voice: Experiment with different narrative voices, such as first-person, third-person limited, or even second-person, to find the one that suits your story best.

Foreshadowing Mysteries: Drop subtle hints and clues early in the story that will become crucial later on. Readers love piecing together mysteries.

Unreliable Narrators: Consider using an unreliable narrator to keep readers guessing. They might misinterpret events or hide critical information.

Flashbacks as Puzzle Pieces: Use flashbacks strategically to reveal key aspects of the story or characters. Make them fit together like a jigsaw puzzle.

Dialect and Dialogue: Give characters distinct voices through their speech patterns and accents. Engaging dialogue can showcase personality and culture.

Emotional Rollercoasters: Take readers on an emotional journey. Make them laugh, cry, and experience every emotion alongside your characters.

Settings with Personality: Make the setting almost like another character. Show how it impacts the characters and the story's mood.

Evoke Empathy: Share characters' vulnerabilities, fears, and desires. Readers relate to flawed, authentic characters with whom they can empathize. Let them fail.

Experiment with Structure: Play with non-linear timelines, multiple perspectives, or fragmented narratives. Challenge traditional storytelling conventions.

Clever Wordplay: Incorporate puns, wordplay, or clever language usage to add humor and depth to your writing.

Cinematic Scenes: Write scenes that readers can visualize as if they were watching a movie. Use dynamic action and vivid descriptions.

Leave Room for Imagination: Don't spell everything out. Allow readers to use their imaginations to fill in some blanks.

Remember that storytelling is an art, and there's no one-size-fits-all approach. You can use these techniques to improve your unique style and the story you want to tell. Most importantly, have fun writing.

And remember to drink enough water!

If you want to have more of this , than click below and follow me.

[wholoveseggs]

Dark Star {Part Two}

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Part Two

{Elijah Mikaelson x f!Reader} In a 13th-century convent, you’re drawn to the mysterious nobleman Elijah Mikaelson, who stirs desires forbidden in both heart and faith. In the present day, the Mikaelson family teeters on the edge, torn over what to do with Elijah, now trapped in torment by Klaus’s dagger. Haunted by memories of love and loss, Elijah relives the past, and his siblings face a grim choice: leave him in despair or risk the havoc he might unleash.

♡♡ Oh hi! did you think you had to wait a while for the next part?? surprise! I've already finished the whole thing {it's 40k words so strap the fuck in} ~ xoxoxo {Here is my playlist for the vibes} love yaaaa ... ♡♡

8.2k words - Warnings: much more angst, slightly spicy, more violence, heavy on the flashbacks in this part, sibling fight, Klaus being Klaus and then Klaus actually being merciful, so much drama, sins & a sex dream, lots of religious talk, Elijah being a flirt in a church, nuns, a rosary && a confession box....

{Part One}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}{Part Six}

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Europe, 13th century

You sat in the back row of the church, head bowed, fingers slipping over smooth rosary beads as the scent of incense curled through the candlelit air. Around you, whispers drifted, murmurs from your fellow sisters.

"Do you see them? Up near the altar?" Sister Margaret’s voice was low, leaning over the pew beside you.

"Yes," Sister Claire murmured back, stealing a glance. “Nobles, I think. Staying at Lord Sanguelac’s manor.”

“What are they doing here? Doesn’t the manor have its own chapel?” Sister Claire’s frown was visible even in the dim light.

“Oh, it’s said they’re seeking brides, if you’d believe it,” Sister Margaret continued, her eyes bright with gossip.

“Brides? Here?” Sister Claire scoffed, incredulous.

You tried to shut out their chatter, keeping your gaze fixed on your lap as the rosary clicked through your fingers. But your pulse quickened, unwillingly drawn to the figures at the front of the church. You had glimpsed them from afar—their imposing frames, the way they moved, as if shadows bent to their will. And now, here they were, close enough to feel their presence, yet aloof, their faces unreadable, eyes dark as midnight.

"They’re rather striking, aren’t they?" Sister Margaret mused, her tone almost wistful.

"And wealthy," Sister Claire sighed dreamily.

"Focus on your prayers," a stern voice hissed from the pew ahead. Mother Mathilde glared at them, her long years in the convent having carved a sternness into her features. They instantly shrank back into their seats.

Sister Claire gave you a sheepish smile, her cheeks flushed. Sister Margaret shook her head and returned her attention to the priest.

The service droned on, and Sister Margaret couldn't resist stealing a glance at the noblemen. You couldn’t blame her. The way they were dressed was unlike anything you had ever seen. Rich velvets and brocades, jewels glinting in the candlelight, the cut of their clothing immaculate, their postures regal.

“I rather like the blonde one. What’s his name again? The tall one?” Sister Margaret murmured.

“Niklaus,” Sister Claire whispered, barely audible. “The dark-haired one is Elijah. They have another brother, but I’ve yet to see him.”

“Shhhh,” Mother Mathilde hushed them sharply. “Must I separate you two?”

“Apologies,” Margaret and Claire mumbled in unison, voices meek.

Suppressing a smile, you returned to your prayers, though your gaze wandered, almost of its own accord, back toward the nobles. And there, seated near the front, was the dark-haired man, his features etched by the soft glow of candlelight as he looked upon the cross. His beauty was striking, unsettling—a face that made your breath catch, that dared you to keep looking even when you knew you shouldn’t. There was a dangerous allure in his gaze, a temptation that felt like sinning even to witness.

As if sensing your gaze, he looked over his shoulder. His eyes found yours, and a slow smile spread across his lips. Heat rose to your cheeks; you quickly looked down, fingers tightening around the rosary. Your heart pounded, so loud you feared the entire church could hear.

“What is it?” Sister Margaret whispered, her gaze following yours.

“N-nothing,” you stammered, eyes fixed on your lap.

“Oh, he’s looking at you,” Sister Margaret grinned, nudging you with a teasing smile.

“Hush,” you whispered, cheeks blazing.

“You’re blushing,” she whispered, her eyes dancing. “Careful now, sister. That devilish charm is quite dangerous for the innocent and unwary."

"Enough, all of you," Mother Mathilde scolded, her tone sharp and commanding. "No supper for you, and you will sit in silence the rest of the service."

The three of you immediately fell silent, heads bowed in shame. Mother Mathilde huffed and turned her attention back to the priest.

Sister Margaret nudged your arm, and you shot her a look. She mouthed 'he's still looking' and tilted her head in the noble's direction. Your heart leapt, and you resisted the urge to glance up. Focusing on what God would expect of a proper nun, you tried to push aside your curiosity and focus on the holy words.

The service ended, and the congregation stood. You bowed your head, crossing yourself and reciting a prayer as everyone slowly filed out. A few people lingered, greeting the priest, chatting amiably.

"Good afternoon, sisters," a deep, velvety voice said.

You froze, your breath catching, eyes widening. You could feel him behind you, the heat radiating off him, the smell of incense and sandalwood, the scent of rich, luxurious leather. You knew exactly who it was without even having to turn.

"Good afternoon," Mother Mathilde replied, a smile in her voice. "It is wonderful to see you in our humble church," she continued, her tone warm and friendly.

"Yes, well, we are visiting, and it is always good to be closer to God," he replied smoothly, his voice rich and cultured, an accent lilting his words.

"How very true," Mother Mathilde smiled. "I trust you have found your visit enjoyable thus far."

"Very much so," he replied, his tone pleasant.

"Your visit brings light to our congregation. May you feel the warmth of our faith," Sister Claire chimed in, a hint of flirtation in her voice. Sister Margaret suppressed a gasp at her boldness, shooting her a glare, which she completely ignored.

"Thank you, sister. That is most kind," he replied, a smile in his voice.

"And you are also a welcome guest," Mother Mathilde added, she was being uncharacteristically gracious, her voice sweet and almost coy. "Our Lord welcomes all into His house."

"Indeed," he agreed, his voice soft.

You could feel his gaze, a weight on your back. It took every ounce of restraint not to turn and meet it, to see if the intensity was still there.

"If I may be so bold, what brings you to our little town?" Sister Claire asked, her tone innocent, but her intentions anything but.

"My family and I are looking for a place to settle, a quiet place away from the hustle and bustle of the city," he replied, his tone warm and amiable. "We are hoping to find a suitable home."

"I see," Sister Claire smiled. "Well, I am sure that, given time, you will find just the place."

"Thank you, sister," he murmured.

"It was lovely to see you, and a pleasure to speak with you, Lord..." Mother Mathilde began, a hint of confusion in her voice.

"Mikaelson," he supplied, a smile in his voice. "Elijah Mikaelson."

"Lord Mikaelson," Mother Mathilde smiled. "It was a delight."

"Likewise," he replied.

You heard him shift, the soft tread of his boots against the stone floor, the rustle of his clothes. He was leaving. You swallowed hard, fighting the urge to turn and look at him, your curiosity overwhelming.

Mathilde's demeanor swiftly changed once Elijah was out of earshot. "Sister Margaret, Sister Claire," she said, her voice low and warning. "Both of you return to the convent and clean out the privies."

"Mother, but-"

"Do not speak a word until you are finished. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Mother," both sisters said in unison.

"Now, off you go," Mathilde ordered, her tone stern.

"Yes, Mother," they mumbled, obediently walking away.

"And you, sister," she turned to you, her gaze sharp. "The pews need to be cleaned and polished, as well as the windows."

"Yes, Mother," you nodded, averting your gaze.

She walked off, her robes swishing behind her. Once she was out of sight, you breathed a sigh of relief. It wouldn't do for the Mother Superior to catch you looking at a man, no matter how noble or charming he may be.

You walked through the church, picking up a cleaning rag and a bucket of soapy water, getting to work. The sun streamed in through the stained glass, casting rainbow-colored patterns across the stone floor.

In the throws of your labor, you pulled off your habit, the hood covering your hair and ears, and draped it over a pew, tying the sleeves around your waist. It was stifling under the fabric, and the cool breeze that swept through the open windows was a welcome reprieve.

You were alone, scrubbing away at a particularly stubborn stain, when you heard the faint creak of the wooden door. You looked up, expecting a member of the congregation, or one of the younger sisters coming in to pray. Instead, a familiar figure stood in the doorway, his broad shoulders filling the frame.

"Hello," Elijah murmured, his dark eyes meeting yours.

"Hello," you breathed, a rush of emotions running through you, nerves and excitement and something else entirely.

You quickly got to your feet, straightening your robes. You felt suddenly self-conscious, exposed. The last time a man had seen you without the protection of the habit, you were a young girl.

He smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. You realized, then, just how young he was. He couldn't be more than a few years older than you, and yet he carried himself with a confidence that seemed almost ageless.

You grabbed your habit draped over the pew and pulled it back on, your movements clumsy and rushed. Your cheeks burned, embarrassed at the way you must have looked.

"Please, don't," Elijah murmured, taking a step forward.

"Pardon?" you asked, your brow furrowed, confused.

"Don't cover yourself," he said softly, his eyes never leaving yours.

You paused, your breath catching in your throat. He wanted you to disrobe? Surely, a nobleman wouldn't come to the church and request such a thing. You took a step backwards, unsure of his intentions.

"I apologize," he said, his eyes widening slightly. "That was too forward. Forgive me, my lady. I did not mean to startle you."

You swallowed, your heartbeat quickening, hands gripping the folds of your robe. You searched his face for any sign of deceit, any indication of wicked intent, but all you saw was genuine sincerity.

"It is alright," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiled, his dark eyes warm and kind. "I simply meant that you should not hide such beauty. There is no need for shame."

His words, though soft and gentle, seemed to strike right through your soul. No one had ever spoken to you like this, not a single person.

"I am unaccustomed to compliments." you said, your voice wavering slightly.

"Perhaps not, but I think you are worthy of them."

You could feel the warmth creeping up your cheeks. His words were both kind and bold, a combination that left you speechless

"Forgive me for startling you," he said, returning your smile. "It was not my intention."

"You aren't of this faith are you?" You asked, curious.

"How can you tell?" he asked, tilting his head, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

"Just a feeling," you replied, returning his smile.

"A woman's intuition, perhaps," he said, his eyes twinkling.

"Perhaps," you echoed, unable to suppress a smile.

He took another step forward, the space between you shrinking with each step.

"You are right," he admitted, a faint smile playing on his lips. "I do not follow any faith, as such. But I believe in the goodness of those who choose to live their lives with honor."

“Does that not trouble you?” you asked softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “To live without the hope of salvation, without the promise of something greater?”

There was a strange expression on his face, his gaze unfathomable, dark as the night sky.

"I am afraid I cannot answer that," he said after a moment.

"Why is that?" you asked, tilting your head slightly.

"Because I fear I might not be able to explain myself well enough to satisfy you," he said, a hint of regret in his voice.

"Try," you challenged, emboldened by his closeness.

"Very well," he murmured, his gaze dropping to the floor, his brow furrowing, as if struggling to find the words. When his eyes met yours again, there was a look in them that made your breath catch, as if the secrets of the universe were trapped within their dark depths.

"I have witnessed terrible things," he said, his voice quiet. "Things that would give a man nightmares for the rest of his life. But through it all, I have learned one thing."

"What is that?" you breathed, transfixed.

"There is no salvation," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

A shiver ran down your spine, goosebumps raising along your skin. His words terrified you, but somehow, inexplicably, you knew there was a deeper meaning to them, one he couldn't bring himself to say.

"The priest here is quite kind," you began, choosing your words carefully. "I am sure he would help ease your mind and guide you to a better place."

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. "That is kind, but I am afraid it would not work. I am beyond redemption."

"All men have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God," you quoted, unable to tear your gaze away from his. "I'm sure he would gladly hear your confession," you said softly.

"Oh, I'm sure," he chuckled.

"Do you not wish to confess your sins?" you asked, curious.

"I do not believe it would do any good," he replied, a wry smile playing on his lips.

"Why is that?" you asked, intrigued.

"I am afraid I would simply repeat them," he said, his voice thick with amusement.

"Everyone has sin in their heart," you murmured, your gaze falling to the floor. "It is good to confess and seek forgiveness."

"What are yours?" he asked, his gaze piercing, as if he could see straight through you.

"I...," you began, a blush creeping up your neck.

By God's grace you were saved from answering. At that moment, a group of people entered the church, the heavy wooden doors creaking open, the sunlight pouring in. You were flooded with relief.

"Perhaps, some other time," he smiled, taking a step back, the moment between you broken.

"Yes," you murmured, your heart beating wildly.

He gave you a knowing smile and walked away, leaving you reeling. It was like he had crawled inside your skin and touched your soul, leaving a mark that would never go away.

That night, you lay awake, unable to sleep, your mind racing. You tossed and turned, your thoughts consumed by the mystery of the man that haunted you, the one who had crept inside your heart and left you with questions and fears and yearning. You knew the truth of it, even when your heart refused to admit it.

The devil had come for you, worming his way into your soul. And you, foolish girl that you were, had welcomed him in.

"You can’t keep him like that!” Rebekah's voice rang out, echoing off the cold stone walls of the compound. Her fiery gaze met Klaus's, a mix of fury and desperation churning within her as Marcel held her back, trying to calm her, but his efforts were futile.

“What would you have us do, sister?” Klaus retorted, his voice cold and emotionless, his expression hardening. “Let him run rampant through the French Quarter, killing indiscriminately?”

“You don’t know what it’s like, Nik,” she shot back, her jaw clenched, hands balled into fists. “I was stuck in that coffin for a century and a half, unable to move, the dagger burning in my chest.”

“Yes, yes, terribly sorry about that... but it was for your own good, as it is for Elijah’s,” Klaus snapped, irritation creeping into his tone.

“Bullshit!” Rebekah spat. “It was for your own good, so you could rule New Orleans without any dissenters, without having to face the consequences of your actions.”

"What's with all the yelling?" Kol's voice cut through the tension as he strode into the courtyard, his gaze flitting between his siblings before landing on Elijah's body lying motionless on the couch. The air felt thick, charged with unspoken fears. “Oh.”

“We’re discussing the best course of action for Elijah,” Freya said, she sat next to Elijah's body, looking exhausted. “Niklaus wants to leave him daggered, while Rebekah and I think he should be awakened, given the choice to heal.”

“Take it out,” Kol said without hesitation, his tone firm as he took a step toward Elijah. Klaus's hand shot out, grabbing his arm, eyes flashing dangerously.

“Don’t.”

Kol met his gaze, his eyes darkening. “Do you know what that dagger does?” he growled, voice low and dangerous.

“Yes,” Klaus grumbled, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Rebekah was kindly reminding me of her own experience.”

“Did she get to the part of what it does to the mind? How it makes you relive the worst moments of your life over and over again, trapped inside yourself, unable to break free?” Kol asked, his gaze flitting between his siblings, rage barely contained. “We all know what he’s witnessing right now, over and over and over.”

Silence descended, the weight of Kol’s words hanging in the air. No one dared to look at Elijah’s body—the dagger protruding from his chest, the blood staining his shirt, the expression of anguish frozen on his face. They all remembered the day Elijah found you, left on the streets for the entire world to see, broken and lifeless. The image of him carrying you into the compound, the sound of his screams as he called for their help, echoed painfully in their memories. The way his heart shattered before their eyes, pieces scattering across the ground, his soul torn in two.

“So,” Kol broke the silence, his voice hard and cold. “Take. It. Out.”

They exchanged glances, the unspoken question lingering in the air. Klaus was the one to finally speak, his voice low and hesitant. “If we take out the dagger, there’s no telling what will happen. We have no way of predicting how Elijah will react; he could very well become a danger to himself and others.” He sighed, expression grim. “The safest course of action is to keep him daggered.”

"Enter his mind," Kol said, his tone matter of fact, "Go on. Take a dive into what he's experiencing and then tell me we should leave him daggered. Go on," he added, gesturing to Elijah's body.

Klaus hesitated, his eyes darting around the room, seeking someone, anyone to support him, but no one spoke. "Very well," he finally agreed, albeit grudgingly.

Klaus sat next to Elijah, taking a deep breath. He reached out, placing his hand on Elijah's forehead, closing his eyes. His jaw tensed, his muscles straining and he was pulled into the depths.

Klaus found himself back in the village where he met you, the scent of rain and grass heavy in the air. Everything was the same—the sounds, the smells, the sights. He certainly didn’t miss this place; it was like any other village, filled with simple, boring peasants. Simply a place his family happened to pass through—a pit stop, as it were.

He didn’t expect to find anything here, but Kol had been adamant that Klaus experience what Elijah was going through, and Klaus had been too angry to refuse. Now, looking around, he felt an uneasy sense of familiarity, as though something dark lay just out of reach.

“This isn’t the memory I thought I would see,” Klaus muttered, scanning the scene, feeling a chill creep over him.

Then he heard it—the unmistakable slurp of a vampire feeding. He sped toward the sound, coming to an abrupt halt. His breath caught as he took in the sight of his younger self, feasting on an unfortunate woman. She was limp in his arms, her skin pale, her life slipping away with every drop of blood.

“Niklaus,” Elijah’s voice rang out, filled with shock and fear. “What are you doing?”

Younger Klaus’s head snapped up, fangs bared, blood dripping from his chin, eyes gleaming with a savage hunger. He looked feral, a beast wearing the face of a man.

“Don’t worry, brother,” Younger Klaus smirked, his voice dripping with arrogance and condescension. “I’ll make sure to save you a taste.”

Klaus’s gaze shifted to the woman in his younger self’s arms. She was barely conscious, her skin deathly pale— and she was you. Klaus felt a jolt of something he didn’t want to acknowledge, a flicker of guilt or something disturbingly close to it. How had he forgotten this?

Elijah rushed forward, his face twisted with fury, and pried you from Klaus’s arms, cradling you with a gentleness that made Klaus’s younger self scoff. “She’ll live,” Klaus said, his voice cold, as though it was nothing.

“No thanks to you,” Elijah snapped, his anger flaring.

“Then she shouldn’t have come out alone.” Younger Klaus’s voice was detached, dismissive. “She’s delicious, by the way. You can taste the virtue in her blood.”

Klaus watched as Elijah held you close, whispering words of comfort, his fingers gently brushing the hair from your face. The devotion in his brother’s gaze was unmistakable, even now.

“Elijah?” Your voice was a trembling whisper as you clung to him, desperate for protection.

“Yes, I’m here,” Elijah murmured, his voice soft and steady.

Younger Klaus rolled his eyes, turning away, clearly disinterested in your plight. “You really do have such a weakness for a pretty face, brother,” he sneered.

Elijah ignored him, focused solely on you, his face contorted with both love and pain. “She needs blood,” he murmured, as if forgetting Klaus was even there.

“So take her and leave,” Younger Klaus retorted.

Elijah shook his head, a spark of defiance flaring in his eyes. “I won’t let you harm her again, Niklaus.”

Klaus couldn't suppress a small smirk, knowing his younger self would be seething with anger.

Younger Klaus scoffed, a cold, derisive smile on his face. "That's fine with me, you can have her."

"You're just going to toss her aside, after what you did to her?" Elijah demanded, his voice filled with disbelief.

"I've been feasting on every peasant in this village, and she is no different. A taste was all I wanted," Younger Klaus shrugged.

Elijah's expression was thunderous, his eyes darkening. He gently laid you on the ground, rising to his full height, a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You will never touch her again."

Younger Klaus laughed, a cruel sound. "And who is going to stop me? You?"

Klaus watched, fascinated, as Elijah launched himself at his younger self, his face transforming. The two brothers were locked in a deadly battle, fangs and claws flashing, their speed and strength almost too fast to track.

Elijah's anger was a force to be reckoned with, his blows savage and merciless. It was so clear that you were special to him, the ferocity in how Elijah defended you was proof of that, and he wondered how his younger self didn't see it, how blinded he had been by his own selfishness.

There was a loud crack as younger Klaus's fist collided with Elijah's face, a spray of blood bursting from his nose, but Elijah barely seemed to notice, his movements unfaltering. He lunged at his younger self, pinning him against a tree, his fingers wrapping around Klaus's throat, a murderous glint in his eyes.

"I don't care if you tear apart every human being on the planet," he snarled, his voice low and dangerous. "But I will not allow you to hurt the people I love."

Younger Klaus's eyes widened, his lips curving into a wicked smile. "Love?" he repeated, his voice taunting. "Don't tell me you've fallen for a simple, plain human girl."

Elijah's grip tightened, his anger flaring. He slammed Klaus's head against the tree, wood splintering. "You will never lay a finger on her again," he hissed.

Klaus watched with a mix of amusement, it was a strange sensation, watching his own life from the outside.

Younger Klaus relented, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, brother, alright," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "Have your plaything."

"I don't need your permission," Elijah spat, releasing his grip on his younger brother. "Now, go. And if I ever catch you near her again, I will not hesitate to kill you."

Younger Klaus scoffed, rolling his eyes, and sped off, his disdain clear. Elijah turned his attention back to you, kneeling beside you. You were unconscious, your skin pale and clammy, the bite on your neck still fresh. He scooped you up into his arms, cradling you gently, and sped away, leaving Klaus alone in the memory.

Klaus shook his head, he didn't understand what Kol meant. This moment wasn't exactly high on the list of Elijah's greatest torments. This actually drew you and Elijah closer together, a memory of the early days, the beginning of something wonderful.

Klaus had been there, seen it unfold before his very eyes, yet it had slipped his mind. He had no idea that his brother's affection would turn into something deeper, more enduring, or that it would last for centuries. That you would become his family.

The world seemed to shift and distort, the colors melting into a haze, and Klaus found himself in a different time and place. He was standing in the present day, on the familiar cobbled streets of New Orleans. But it felt hollow, like one of his unfinished paintings, a mere echo of reality.

A sense of dread washed over him as he scanned the empty streets, his eyes falling on his brother in the middle of the road. He was kneeling, his back to him, his shoulders hunched. Klaus took a step toward him, the feeling of unease growing.

"Elijah?" Klaus called out, his voice echoing through the empty streets.

There was no response, no acknowledgment, and he tried again, louder. "Brother."

His voice reverberated, bouncing off the buildings, the silence stretching. He moved closer, cautiously, his senses on alert.

He knew, deep in his gut, exactly when this was.

"I'm here, brother," he said, his voice low and soothing. "You're not alone."

He didn't know why he bothered, Elijah couldn't hear him, and there was nothing he could do to change the outcome.

An anguished scream tore from Elijah's throat, raw and heart-wrenching. Klaus winced, his jaw clenched, as his brother clung to your dead body. He couldn't see your face, but he didn't need to. He remembered the sight, the image forever seared into his mind, his stomach twisting at the memory.

You were pale, eyes staring blankly at the sky, the color drained from your face, your expression frozen in a mask of agony. Your body was broken, limbs bent at unnatural angles, blood staining the concrete beneath you. Whoever did this to you, didn't want a quick, clean death. No, they wanted you to suffer, every second dragging on as the life slipped away from you.

Another scream ripped from Elijah's throat, his body shaking with the force of it. Klaus took a step forward, reaching out, his hand hovering over his brother's shoulder, wanting desperately to comfort him. But when he touched him, his fingers passed right through and he was pulled into another memory.

It was a private one, something he didn't exactly want to witness, but he was powerless to stop it.

You and Elijah were alone, judging by Elijah's hairstyle it was sometime during the renaissance. The two of you curled up together in bed, no clothing to be seen, only the sheets draped around your bodies.

Klaus felt awkward, but also fascinated to see his strong, closed off, brother so vulnerable and open. Elijah's hand was on your back, gently tracing a pattern on your skin, his expression tender.

"Elijah," You whispered, leaning into him. "I'm scared."

"Scared?" Elijah's brow furrowed, his gaze flitting across your face. "Of what?"

"Eternity," you murmured, your lips so close to his, your breaths mingling.

"Why is that?" He asked softly, his fingertips brushing along your cheek, his touch feather light.

"We can't stay here forever, can we?" you said quietly, your gaze dropping. "One day, we will have to leave, find another place to hide. Everything will change, over and over."

Elijah cupped your face, lifting your chin so that your eyes met. "Not everything will change, my love. I will be with you, always. Nothing can keep us apart."

"But...," you began, your words cut off as Elijah pressed his lips to yours.

Klaus felt like an intruder, a spectator to a side of Elijah he had rarely seen. A side untouched by the violence and chaos that haunted their lives. A pang of something. Envy, sadness, perhaps both, pressing down on him. He turned away, the intimacy too much to bear, and willed himself back to reality.

When he opened his eyes, his hands were on either side of Elijah’s face, his brow furrowed. He didn’t meet his siblings’ questioning gazes; instead, he reached forward and pulled the dagger from Elijah’s chest, tossing it aside with disgust.

“Take him to a bedroom and have Freya watch him,” Klaus commanded, his tone brooking no argument. His gaze lingered on Elijah, his voice softening ever so slightly. “And when he wakes, make sure he doesn’t leave,”

"What about you?" Freya asked, her brow creased.

Klaus's expression was unreadable, but a trace of bitterness tinged his words. "I'm going to find her killer, and when I do, there will be nothing left of them.”

13th Century Europe

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," you whispered, your voice barely a breath in the dim, confining space of the confessional. The heavy scent of sweat and worn wood filled the small box, pressing in on you from every side.

"Go on, child," came the priest’s reply, his tone steady but firm, with the creak of shifting wood as he adjusted on the other side.

You took a shuddering breath, fingers clenched together. "I… I have been harboring impure thoughts about a man—a stranger." Your cheeks flushed, even here, hidden in darkness. "He passes through the village, and though I try, I cannot stop thinking about him."

The priest was silent, and in that quiet, shame twisted within you. "And is this stranger a man of God?" he finally asked, his voice laced with quiet judgment.

"No," you admitted, voice sinking low. "He’s an outsider. I know these thoughts are wrong, but I can’t keep them from my mind."

Another pause. "Have you spoken to this stranger? Been alone with him?"

"Once." Your cheeks burned hotter. "I have been tempted, Father."

"And have you prayed for these thoughts to leave you?" he pressed, a note of reproach in his tone. "Have you repented?"

"Yes, Father," you murmured, bowing your head, clinging to a fragile thread of hope for forgiveness.

"Then continue in prayer, and ask for God’s mercy. He will strengthen you, if you are sincere."

"Thank you, Father," you whispered, relief softening your chest, allowing you to breathe more freely.

You were about to rise when the priest spoke again. "One last question, child," he murmured. "These impure thoughts… tell me more of them."

You hesitated, teeth catching your lip, uncertain. Why would he ask? You tried to quiet the doubts, answering in a small voice. "They are wrong. I imagine being… with him, in ways that a woman of God should not." The shame that laced your words made your throat tight.

The priest was silent, and then his voice, soft, almost thoughtful. "Tell me, child. Have these thoughts brought pleasure to you?"

Your breath caught, eyes widening. Had he really asked that? You could feel your cheeks burning, hot as fire. What sort of priest would ask such a thing?

"Father?" A strange, uneasy chill prickled down your spine.

You pushed the confessional door open, stepping into the chapel’s silent gloom. No one was there. Candles burned low, flickering, shadows dancing across the empty pews.

"Is there anything else you wish to confess to me?"

You turned, your breath catching at the sight. It was not the priest who emerged from the other side but Elijah, cloaked in dark robes, his eyes sharp and unyielding, his face illuminated by the soft glow of the candles.

"What did you do to the priest?" you whispered, taking a wary step back.

Elijah only advanced, his gaze fixed intently on you. "Tell me, child," he murmured, his voice soft and low. "What is it you confess to God in secret?" His lips curved in a faint smile, one that was both beguiling and terrifying.

You opened your mouth, struggling to speak, to defy him, but he closed the distance swiftly. His fingers caught your wrist, holding it firmly as his other hand circled your waist, drawing you close.

"I know what you want," he whispered, his breath warm against your skin. "There’s no need to hide your desire from me."

A shiver ran through you as you felt his touch, his hand pressing against the small of your back, his face so close you could feel the heat of him.

"What is it that you long for?" His words slipped into your mind like a forbidden caress.

Your heart raced, any resolve melting as he held you, and the confession spilled from your lips unbidden. "You," you breathed, the word escaping in a moment of surrender, your voice trembling.

His smile widened, his hand tangling in your hair as he tilted your head back, forcing your gaze to meet his. "Good girl," he murmured, the praise sending a thrill through you that you could not deny.

Then he was kissing you, his mouth hard and insistent, and the weight of the forbidden melted into a fierce, undeniable longing. You sank into the kiss, the world narrowing to his touch, his presence overwhelming, until his lips moved along your jaw, down your throat, nipping at the sensitive skin.

A soft moan escaped you, a plea, as he held you close, his mouth lingering on your neck. Then his mouth opened, his teeth grazing your skin—and a sharp, aching pain flooded through you as his teeth pierced your flesh. A gasp escaped your lips, your hands clutching at his shoulders as a strange, twisted pleasure swept through you, leaving you breathless.

When he drew back, his mouth was stained red, his eyes gleaming with something dark and consuming. You tried to scream, but his hand was on your lips, silencing you. In the next instant, he pressed you back against the confessional, his touch insistent, the world around you fading into shadow.

And then you woke, your body tangled in sweat-soaked sheets, heart racing, breath shallow and uneven. The memory of the dream clung to you, its vividness lingering as if it had been real, as if his touch still burned on your skin.

For a long moment, you lay there, trembling, the temptation to return to that dark, forbidden fantasy searing through you. But guilt rose within you, and you clasped your hands together in prayer, pleading for strength. Yet even as you murmured words of repentance, your mind could not fully banish the echo of his touch, his voice, the thrill that had brought you so close to the edge of surrender.

You forced yourself to rise, stumbling out of bed and crossing the room to light a candle, the soft glow casting faint shadows. It was early morning, with the faint light of dawn creeping through the window, and you knew sleep would elude you. Instead, you sank onto the floor, kneeling before the wooden cross that hung on the wall, closing your eyes.

"God, forgive me for these sins," you whispered, the familiar prayer bringing some measure of comfort. "Please give me the strength to resist temptation, and the grace to see your will in all things."

You continued like this for some time, the words falling from your lips like a litany, until a knock at the door startled you.

"Come in," you called, your voice hoarse, as you stood.

Sister Margaret stepped into the room, she was holding a broom and a basket. "Are you alright?" She asked, her eyes flicking across your face.

You nodded, smoothing out the skirt of your dress. "I'm fine, just a bad dream," you assured her, flashing her a smile.

She frowned, studying you for a moment, before sighing. "We've got chores," she said, "More than usual because Sister Claire is ill," she continued, giving you a pointed look.

"Ill?" You frowned, "Is it serious?"

"It's the same sickness that has plagued the village, the one that leaves you weak and pale. You should be careful, and avoid the woods if possible," she warned.

"The woods? Why?" Your frown deepened, concern gnawing at you.

"That is where the sickness lies, amidst the trees and the mist."

"That doesn't make sense," you countered.

"It is what the villagers say," she shrugged.

You sighed and nodded, knowing it was no use to argue. The villagers believed the woods were cursed, a place where evil dwelled. It was nonsense, but that didn't stop the fear from taking hold.

"I will be out shortly," you murmured.

"Don't take too long," she warned, handing you the basket. "Mother Mathilde wants you to go to market and get some eggs and apples," she said, her expression softening.

"Okay," you nodded, taking the basket.

She turned and left the room, the sound of her footsteps fading as she descended the stairs.

You let out a long sigh, leaning against the wall. Your dream had rattled you, and the thought of leaving the safety of the convent, of walking alone, filled you with anxiety. But you knew God would guide you, and you could not refuse a direct order from Mother Mathilde.

You set the basket aside, quickly dressing and putting on a bonnet. You left your room, walking through the quiet hall, the silence broken only by the faint chirping of birds outside the window. When you reached the front door, you opened it, stepping out into the fresh morning air.

Mother Mathilde was tending to her garden, her hands caked in dirt, her brow furrowed in concentration. She looked up, her gaze growing darker when she saw you.

"Ah, there you are," she said, rising from the ground. "Did Sister Margaret tell you what we need?"

"Yes," you nodded, holding up the basket. "Eggs and apples,"

"Good," Mother Mathilde replied, brushing her hands on her skirt. "Go to market and hurry back, the sooner you return, the sooner we can begin preparations for mass."

"Yes, Mother," you murmured, turning and walking toward the gate.

"One more thing, child," Mother Mathilde called, her voice sharp.

"Yes, Mother?" You turned, catching sight of the stern look on her face.

"Remember that God is always watching," she said, her eyes narrowed.

"I know, Mother," you said quietly, your gaze dropping.

"Do not disappoint him," she added, her tone harsh.

"I won't, Mother," you promised, a lump forming in your throat.

She stared at you for a moment longer, before waving her hand dismissively.

You hurried down the path, walking quickly, eager to be away from her scrutiny. She was a strict, pious woman, who rarely spared a moment of kindness. She would rather scold than praise and her harsh words always stung.

You shook off the thought, trying to focus on the task at hand. It was a pleasant morning, the sun rising over the fields, the breeze fresh and cool, and you let yourself relax. The market wasn't far and the walk would do you good.

As you walked, your thoughts drifted, returning to the dream, the memory of Elijah's touch, his voice, filling you with a mixture of shame and longing. You shook off the thought, turning your attention to the sky, watching the clouds drifting by.

You reached the market, the streets bustling with activity. Vendors were setting up their stalls, hawking their wares, the sounds of haggling and laughter filling the air. You wove through the crowd, searching for the fruit and vegetable stalls.

You found one selling apples, and grabbed a bunch, tucking them neatly into the basket. You were about to hand the vendor some coins, when someone behind you reached over your shoulder and paid for you.

"Here, allow me," a familiar voice murmured, his tone sending a shiver down your spine.

You turned, heart pounding, coming face to face with Elijah, who looked even better than he did in your dream.

"Thank you," you managed, avoiding his gaze.

He inclined his head, a faint smile playing on his lips. "The pleasure is all mine," he replied, his voice laced with amusement.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself. You didn't know why he was here, or what he wanted, but you knew that he was dangerous.

"I... I should be going," you said, trying to keep your voice steady.

"Of course," he murmured, his gaze locked on yours. "Allow me to accompany you," he offered, holding out his arm.

You hesitated, uncertain, before slowly reaching out and taking his arm.

He led you through the market, and the crowds seemed to part for him, as if he commanded their attention. As you walked, you couldn't help but notice the way his eyes lingered on your face, a curious intensity in his gaze.

You felt yourself blushing, and tried to focus on the path ahead, fighting the urge to glance at him.

"Do you need anything else?" Elijah asked, breaking the silence, his voice soft.

You nodded. "Just a few dozen eggs,"

"Allow me," he offered, a hint of a smile playing on his lips.

You followed him to the poultry stall, watching as he haggled with the vendor, his voice smooth and persuasive. He paid the man, taking the basket and placing the eggs inside.

"Thank you," you murmured, looking up at him.

"It's no problem, call it penance," he replied, a playful smirk on his face.

"Penance?" You echoed, confused.

He chuckled, the sound sending a thrill through you. "For my behavior at church, I made you uncomfortable, and I apologize."

"Oh," you breathed, a flush creeping into your cheeks.

"But...," his voice trailed off, his gaze fixed on yours, the intensity of it sending a shiver through you. "I do not regret it," he finished, a trace of defiance in his tone.

"It's not penance then, just an apology," you murmured, heat creeping up your neck.

"Perhaps," he replied, his tone teasing.

"How can it be a penance if you don't regret it?" You pressed, curious.

"A man can be sorry for his actions and not regret the outcome," he explained, his gaze unwavering.

You blushed, his words sending a strange, warm thrill through you. You swallowed, trying to regain your composure. "I see," you murmured, unsure how to respond.

"May I walk you home?" He asked, his voice low.

"Yes," you replied, before your mind could catch up.

He offered you his arm, and you took it, allowing him to lead you through the market. As you walked, a sense of ease settled over you, despite the forbidden nature of his company. There was something about him, a calm certainty that put you at ease.

The path back to the convent was lined with high crops of wheat and corn, their stalks rustling in the wind. The sun was higher now, its warmth pleasant against your skin. You paused for a moment, lifting your face to the sun, feeling its rays on your face.

Elijah stopped too, watching you, his gaze curious. "Tell me, are the people of this village always so afraid of the woods?"

You nodded, lowering your gaze. "They say the devil dwells there," you admitted, the truth of the words sinking in.

He chuckled, the sound rumbling through him. "The devil is a fickle creature, and he does not often linger in one place."

"Then what lies in the woods?" You asked, curious.

"Nothing more than a man's fear," he replied, his voice tinged with amusement.

"What do you mean?" You pressed, your gaze flicking to his.

"I mean," he began, his tone softening, "that fear is a powerful thing, and when men allow it to rule them, they lose sight of the truth."

"And what is the truth?" You asked, breathless, a strange excitement coursing through you.

"That fear is a prison," he said, his gaze locked on yours. "Only a fool would willingly lock himself away."

"I...," you trailed off, his words echoing in your mind, he was suggesting something that went against everything you had been taught. "I shouldn't be talking to you,"

"No," he agreed, a glimmer of amusement in his eyes. "You shouldn't,"

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, his presence overwhelming. You felt as if he was challenging you, daring you to defy your beliefs, and you couldn't deny that a part of you was tempted. But you could hear Mother Mathilde's words in your mind, warning you, and you knew that she would be furious if she knew that you were here, speaking with a stranger, alone.

"I should be going," you said, tearing your gaze from his, forcing your feet to move.

He didn't move, his gaze fixed on yours. "I won't stop you," he murmured, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"No, you won't," you replied, your resolve strengthening. You turned, walking away, determined to put as much distance between the two of you. But he continued to follow you, matching your pace.

"You're not going to leave, are you?" You asked, glancing over your shoulder, an edge of frustration creeping into your voice.

"Not until you admit the truth," he replied, a smirk curling his lips.

"What truth?" You asked, stopping, turning to face him.

"That you don't want me to leave," he answered, his voice a low murmur, his gaze locked on yours.

You shook your head, trying to suppress the surge of frustration and confusion. "You're wrong," you retorted, trying to ignore the way his words made your heart beat faster.

"Then why is your heart racing?" He murmured, his voice soft and dangerous.

You glared at him, clenching your jaw, unwilling to give him the satisfaction of a response.

"Do you want to know what I see when I look at you?" He asked.

"No," you said, your voice firm.

"I see someone who is lonely," he continued, "Someone who is searching for something, perhaps something they cannot name."

His words pierced your defenses, the truth of them cutting deep. "I'm not lonely," you argued, struggling to hold onto the last shreds of denial.

He stepped closer, his gaze locked on yours. "It's a sin to lie," he murmured, his tone teasing.

You swallowed, trying to stay calm, to ignore the heat that was rising within you. He took the basket from your hand, placing it gently on the ground. Then he reached out, his fingers intertwining with yours, the warmth of his touch searing through you.

"I see a beautiful woman, full of life and passion," he continued, his voice a low murmur. "Someone who is capable of great things, if only she would let herself."

You drew a shaky breath, your heart hammering in your chest. You wanted to pull away, to break the spell he had woven around you, but his words and his touch held you captive.

"I can feel your desire," he whispered, his words sending a shiver through you. "Your body is betraying you, telling me what your words won't."

Your eyes met his, and the intensity of his gaze felt like it was burning through you. "Don't," you pleaded, your voice barely a whisper.

"What would God say?" He murmured, his breath warm against your cheek. "What would your sisters say?"

You closed your eyes, fighting the urge to give in, to surrender to his touch. But the temptation was too strong, the forbidden nature of it thrilling.

He pressed closer, his hand resting against your hip. "Would he approve of this?" He asked, his lips brushing against yours, a barely there caress.

Your hands slid up his chest, your fingers tangling in his hair. "I can't," you whispered, your resolve crumbling, desire flooding through you.

"Yes, you can," he murmured, his lips claiming yours in a searing kiss.

The world faded, narrowing to the feel of his touch, his mouth against yours, the heat of his body. He pulled you into the tall wheat, the stalks brushing against your skin, the sunlight filtering through the leaves. You clung to him, lost in the moment, in desperation born of months of longing.

When you finally broke apart, breathless and flushed, a strange sense of peace settled over you. Whatever sin this was, whatever price you would pay, it felt right, like this was where you were meant to be.

He held you close, his forehead resting against yours, his breath mingling with yours. You had no words, the intensity of the moment overwhelming.

Finally, he spoke, his voice soft. "So you feel this too?"

You nodded, unable to speak.

He chuckled, his eyes filled with relief. "Good,"

You smiled, a sense of freedom washing over you, a weight lifting from your shoulders. In that moment, all the shame, all the guilt, faded away, replaced by something far more powerful.

Love.

{Part One}{Part Three}{Part Four}{Part Five}{Part Six}

[sophora2025]

Johan Liebert x Reader Headcanons | Monster ( Anime/Manga)

The Mysterious Attraction

• At first, you’re not sure why you’re drawn to Johan. His beauty is undeniable, but there’s something deeper—an air of mystery that pulls you in.

• Johan is the type to observe from afar before making his presence known to you. He watches how you interact with others, how you react to various situations, almost like he’s analyzing you.

• Once Johan decides to speak to you, you feel immediately disarmed by his calm demeanor and soft-spoken words. He’s incredibly charming, and there’s something in his eyes that makes it hard to look away.

• There’s a subtle thrill in being close to him. You know there’s something dangerous beneath his polite smile, but that just makes you want to figure him out more.

His Subtle Possessiveness

• Johan is possessive, though not in the conventional sense. He doesn’t get jealous of others easily; rather, he ensures that you feel as though no one could ever compare to him. He subtly weaves himself into your life until you’re always thinking of him.

• He often reminds you how unique your connection is, how no one else could ever understand you the way he does. You begin to notice that he’s always one step ahead, knowing what you need before you even ask.

• Johan can be manipulative without you even realizing it. He’s a master at guiding conversations, making you feel like he’s the only person in the world who truly sees you for who you are. It’s intoxicating, but also terrifying once you realize how deep you’ve fallen.

Moments of Vulnerability

• Though Johan rarely shows his true feelings, there are rare moments where you catch glimpses of vulnerability. His composed mask slips when he’s alone with you, and for a fleeting second, you wonder if the darkness that surrounds him ever overwhelms him.

• He doesn’t talk much about his past, but in those moments where he’s silent, staring into the distance, you can feel the weight of something unspeakable. It’s then you realize how broken he truly is, and part of you aches to help him, though you know better.

• Johan might let you touch his face, allowing you to trace the lines of his expressionless features, but there’s always an undercurrent of something ominous. He’s simultaneously soft and chillingly distant, like he’s allowing you into a world you can never fully understand.

Protection and Danger

• Despite his darkness, Johan is fiercely protective of you. He won’t allow anything or anyone to harm you, though his methods are… unsettling. People who threaten or hurt you tend to disappear or meet sudden unfortunate ends.

• Johan never explicitly tells you about the lengths he goes to for your protection, but you can sense it. There are times when you wonder if you’re safer or in more danger being with him.

• He has a way of making you feel like you’re the center of his world, but there’s always the lingering fear that if you ever wanted to leave, you wouldn’t be able to. Johan is patient, but he won’t let go easily.

The Psychological Games

• Being with Johan often feels like a mental chess game. He’s always ten steps ahead, and though he never hurts you directly, you sometimes feel like he’s testing you—seeing how far he can push before you break.

• Conversations with Johan often feel like they have layers you can’t quite decipher. He speaks in riddles, in philosophical musings, leaving you questioning everything, even your own sense of reality.

• Johan enjoys seeing how far he can shape your worldview. He’ll gently plant ideas in your mind, make you question the morality of society, of humanity, until you find yourself becoming more and more like him—detached, observing the world through his dark lens.

Tender but Tense Moments

• There are moments of tenderness when you’re alone with Johan, where he holds you close and speaks in that soothing voice. He strokes your hair or traces his fingers along your arm, his touch soft, yet his presence is always a little overwhelming.

• He loves the quiet moments where you lie in his arms, your head resting against his chest as his hand brushes over your back. He’s silent, but you can feel the weight of his thoughts pressing down on you, even if he doesn’t share them.

• However, you can never fully relax around him. Even in moments of calm, there’s always an edge to his affection, like he’s holding back something much darker.

A Fatal Attraction

• Being with Johan feels like being caught in the eye of a storm. On the surface, it’s calm, almost peaceful, but you know the chaos that lurks just beyond. You can never shake the feeling that you’re teetering on the edge of something catastrophic.

• You begin to question whether you’re truly in love with him, or if it’s just the intoxicating power of his presence. Either way, you can’t escape the hold he has on you.

• Deep down, you know that Johan could destroy you, either emotionally or physically. And yet, you can’t imagine being with anyone else. There’s a strange sense of inevitability about it—you were drawn to his darkness, and now, you’re bound to it.

[cutiecon]

What is CutieCon?

Cutiecon is a one day, 5 hour online convention for the agere community (adults only)! It will be held on a discord server, with multiple chat channels, an artist alley, and live events! It will be on a saturday (date tbd) from 5-10pm. Here's the break down:

Chat Channels

There will be multiple chat channels to mix and mingle with other regressors/caregivers! There's 2 of every chat to allow for multiple conversations, including:

General chat

Questions and answers

Fandom zone

Live Events

There will be five live events held on voice chat/ stream, one every hour. They will be:

A mixer, where we play games to get to know each other

A panel about agere gear: how to obtain it, how to make it yourself, storage, etc

A craft along, making multiple crafts with household items (supply lists will be posted prior to the event)

A bake along, making treats from common ingredients (a list will also be posted prior to the event)

To cap off the night there will be a movie watch party! The movie will be voted on.

Artist Alley

The artist alley will be a channel where agere vendors make one post describing what they sell and how to get in contact with them! It's basically a directory for as many agere shops and artists as we can find, and will be compiled into a Google doc or post to be accessed after the con. Anyone who sells agere related products is welcome! Including:

Art commissions

Writing commissions

Pacifiers

Mystery boxes

Clothing

Anything else!

Leave your information in the askbox if you'd like to be included!

This con is still in the planning stages, so things are subject to change, but these are the basic details! Hopefully the con will be held in the next two months, before school starts, but no guarantees.

[truevedicastrology]

Celestial Vocal Personas 🌌🗣️

Individuals influenced by the Sun and Mercury collaboration possess a voice that echoes confidence, firmness, and stability. Their articulation is unwavering, avoiding stutters and conveying messages with unhesitating clarity. Renowned for the authoritative touch in their voice, these communicators excel in debates and discussions, seamlessly blending longer and shorter sentences to create a burst of linguistic prowess. 💪🌟

For those under the embrace of the Moon and Mercury alliance, a nurturing and motherly timbre characterizes their speech. Their voices exude a sense of home, becoming a comforting refuge for those seeking solace. Capable of weaving words into a poetic tapestry, these individuals possess a voice that resonates with love and warmth. 🏡💖

Venturing into the realm of Venus and Mercury synergy, an enticing and charismatic voice takes center stage. Whether deepening for males or soaring in pitch for females, this enchanting vocal quality holds the power to adapt and captivate. Masters of the art of persuasion, these individuals effortlessly tailor their voices to be charming and cute, leaving a lasting impression. 😍✨

Mars and Mercury coalescence results in a voice that commands attention with its bold and loud resonance. Despite its potential to induce apprehension, this voice carries a mysterious allure, perceived as sexy and dominant. Contrary to initial impressions, it conceals a depth that draws listeners in, creating an unforgettable sonic experience. 🔊🔥

Jupiter and Mercury collaborators wield a voice that resonates loudly and deeply, coupled with a charming laugh. Embracing the role of educators, they share knowledge effortlessly, often finding success in vocally-driven ventures like podcasts. Their commanding presence and informative tone mark them as natural leaders in the realm of spoken expression. 🎓🎙️

Saturn and Mercury affiliations bring forth a deliberate, sometimes leisurely voice. Characterized by calmness and nonchalance, these individuals carefully select each word, creating a voice that exudes respect and thoughtfulness. Frequently delving into discussions on rules and adherence, their measured speech leaves a lasting impression. 🤔🗣️

Navigating the ethereal waters of Neptune and Mercury connections reveals a voice shrouded in dreaminess and otherworldly allure. Comparable to a siren's song, this enchanting voice finds its zenith in slow-paced melodies. Bestowing a gift for musical talents, these individuals weave spells with their voices, leaving audiences craving more. 🌌🎶

Uranus and Neptune collaborations manifest in a distinctly unique voice, one that stands out amidst the cacophony of conventional tones. Unconventional in word choices and sentence structures, these individuals proudly showcase a voice that defies expectations, leaving an indelible mark on the listener's memory. 🚀🤯

The fusion of Pluto and Mercury births an intimidating, seductive, and deep voice, irrespective of gender. Authoritative and potentially intimidating, this voice possesses an undeniable allure, embracing both seduction and mystery. It's a voice that lingers, leaving an indescribable, addictive imprint on those who encounter it. 💋🔮

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