#searaphic

[sangelune]

19) angry sex in the middle of a fight / ghost >:)

   how  he  wants  to  lash  out  and  strike  her.  rage  boils  in  his  veins,  and  it  threatens  to  spill  over.  upper  lip  curls,  and  he  steps  forward.  she  spoke  out  against  him  -  trying  to  plead  a  case  to  ears  that  didn't  need  to  hear  it.  it's  just  someone  else  trying  to  fucking  tear  him  to  pieces  by  leaving.  alek  this,  alek  that.  who  fuckin'  cares.  shouldn't  matter  when  she  has  him,  now  should  it?  he  should  be  enough.  and  yet  -  she  tried  to  run.  to  leave.  to  fucking  leave  him  behind. 

   “shu'  th'  fuck  up.”  the  words  are  snarled  out,  ghost  long  done  listening  to  her.  he  corners  her  to  the  wall,  hand  around  her  throat,  lifting  her  off  the  floor  and  holding  her  in  place,  a  tight  grip  crushing  her  windpipe,  cutting  off  her  ability  to  talk  back. 

   “'ow  many  times  i  ‘ave  t’  go  over  this  wi'  you?”  his  face  contorts  in  pure  rage,  hatred  glimmering  in  his  eyes.  not  toward  her,  but  toward  the  idea  that  she  would  abandon  him.  “you  belong  t'  me.  there  ain't  negotiatin'  or  leavin'.  only  way  ou'  is  by  dyin'.”  and  god  forbid  he  watch  someone  else  die  -  even  by  his  own  hand.  “if  i  ‘ave  t’  chain  ya  up  t'  keep  ya  -  i  fuckin'  will.” 

   oh,  simon,  you're  sick.  can't  see  it  -  refuses  to  see  it.  sick,  sick,  sick.  cut  into  him  and  black  ichor  would  ooze  out  like  molasses.  the  rot  so  deep  within  his  bones  it  poisons  his  marrow.  every  thought  twisted,  sickening,  bloody,  violent  -  it  flashes  in  his  eyes. 

   “no,  luv,  ya  don'  quite  ge'  i',  do  ya?”  the  anger  is  gone  -  a  soft  tone  in  its  place.  one  that  begets  danger.  his  grip  finally  relents,  and  he  lets  her  slide  down  the  wall  back  to  her  feet.  “'ave  i  no'  been  ge'in'  i'  propa  in  your  ‘ead?  no’  doin'  ya  righ'?  oh,  luvie…  shoulda  told  me.”  his  mind  twists  it,  twists  it  so  it's  not  so  painful.  he's  sick,  and  he  brings  his  hand  to  cup  her  face.  “swee'hear'.”  venom  inches  its  way  into  his  tone,  and  his  eyes  take  a  sharp  glare,  his  hand  trailing  back  down  to  her  neck,  a  bruising  hold  put  in  place. 

   “gonna  ‘ave  t’  teach  ya.”  he  snarls  it  out,  pulling  his  knife  from  its  holster  with  the  hand  not  around  her  neck.  handle  white  knuckled,  blade  sent  toward  her  clothing.  swift  movements,  harsh,  uncaring.  cutting  cloth  and  flesh,  parting  that  pristine  surface  of  her  skin,  letting  the  red  weep  angrily  forth.  bleed.  bleed  like  he  does.  her  outside  can  match  his  inside.  she'll  see  what  it  does  to  him.  become  what  it  does  to  him. 

   “gonna  ‘ave  t’  stop  yer  fuckin'  ‘round  wi’  me.”  he  growls  it  out,  taking  all  of  his  self  control  to  not  slip  the  knife  between  her  ribs.  he  knows  the  human  body.  he  knows  lethal.  he  knows  nonlethal.  he  could  make  her  hurt,  and  have  her  survive.  put  her  at  the  brink  but  keep  her  teetering. 

   but  that  -  that  is  too  cruel.  for  now. 

   instead  he  leans  into  the  animal  clawing  at  his  ribcage.  he  lets  it  gnaw  through  his  bones,  snap  them  with  its  clawed  grip  -  and  come  to  the  surface.  hungry  -  ravenous.  the  knife  falls  to  the  ground,  and  she  is  lifted  by  her  thighs  back  up  -  only  to  be  brought  back  down  for  him  to  sheath  his  god  damn  cock  up  her  cunt  without  any  warning.  he  doesn't  care.  it  doesn't  matter.  she's  his.  always  has  been  and  always  will  be.  his  little  doll. 

   his  hands  move  to  her  hips,  putting  bruises  into  pretty  skin  from  grip  alone.  shoving  her  relentlessly  on  his  cock  again  and  again.  hard  grunts  passing  as  he  works  himself  up  inside  of  her.  feeling  the  way  her  walls  flutter  around  him,  accept  him.  “fuckin'  made  for  me.  made  for  me.  thinkin'  uv  fuckin'  runnin'  -  fucks  wrong  wi'  you.”  the  snarl  works  its  way  from  his  chest,  burying  his  face  into  her  neck,  sinking  teeth  in.  puncturing  skin,  licking  at  the  blood.  letting  out  those  obscene  starved  grunts  as  he  mercilessly  pounds  into  her. 

   “no  more  fuckin'  runnin'.  no  leavin'.”  he  gives  the  ultimatum  without  missing  a  beat,  picking  up  his  pace,  working  himself  into  his  climax.  “do  i'  again  an'  i'm  fuckin'  chainin'  ya.  no'  ever  leavin'  me.  never.”  he'd  sooner  kill  her  -  and  after  so  much  loss  to  death  in  his  life;  he's  not  willing  to  weather  that  again.

   “should  jus'  do  i'  anyway.”  he  hisses  it  out,  before  burying  to  the  hilt  inside  of  her  and  letting  himself  hit  climax,  feeling  the  way  his  cock  violently  twitches  as  he  cums  inside  of  her,  a  low  groan  passing  as  he  holds  her  in  place.  he  stays  inside  her,  panting  into  her  neck.  his  grip  stays,  he's  not  letting  her  move. 

   you  tried  to  fuckin'  leave  me. 

   the  reminder  causes  anger  to  flow  -  and  his  cock  gives  an  angry  twitch.  god  forbid  he  be  a  one  and  done  from  this.  no  -  no,  he's  going  to  make  her  realize  she  made  a  mistake.  he  steps  back  from  the  wall,  taking  her  and  himself  down  to  the  floor.  letting  her  back  crash  down  to  it,  lifting  her  hips  up,  pushing  her  legs  back  over  her  front,  letting  them  rest  near  her  head.  he  stands,  buried  deep  in  her  still,  keeping  her  in  a  press. 

   “never  gonna  fuckin'  leave  again.”  the  words  are  nothing  but  a  venomous  snarl,  before  he  starts  to  move  into  her  again.  hard  and  heavy,  gripping  onto  her  hips  to  keep  her  in  place,  to  put  more  bruises  in  the  shape  of  his  hands  on  her.  his  tip  kisses  her  cervix  with  each  thrust  -  and  he  doesn't  even  pay  her  any  mind.  how  she  feels  is  secondary  to  how  he  feels.  what  he  wants.  something  that  could  have  been  fun  is  now  done  in  anger.  in  ravenous,  all  consuming  rage.  finally  tipping  past  that  point  of  no  return  he's  toed  his  whole  life. 

   “fuck'll  i'  take  t'  keep  ya  ‘ere.”  he  growls  it  out,  upper  lip  curling  angrily  as  he  fucks  into  her  harder.  he’ll  bruise  every  inch  of  her  insides.  he'll  make  his  mark  so  that  she'll  never  forget  him.  no  other  man  will  be  able  to  come  close  to  him.  “knock  ya  up.  fuckin'  keep  ya  like  that.  ain't  gonna  be  able  t'  fuckin'  run  if  i  do  that,  will  ya?”  it's  an  idea  that  sends  a  shudder  through  his  spine.  maybe  he  should  follow  through  with  that.  chain  her  up.  knock  her  up.  keep  her  put. 

   “c'mon,  luv.”  he  lets  out  a  dark  chuckle.  “le's  ge'  a  baby  in  ya.”  now  he  dares  to  pay  mind  to  her,  his  eyes  locked  onto  hers.  a  cruel  desire  shines  in  his  gaze,  and  his  lips  curve  into  a  wicked  smirk.  “gonna  take  every  las'  fuckin'  drop,  aren't  ya?”  he  leers,  a  sneer  written  across  what  used  to  be  handsome  features.  a  monster  in  the  place  of  a  man.  “you  fuckin'  owe  me  tha'  much  after  the  shite  ya  tried  t'  pull  on  me.”  he  snarls,  breathing  going  out  of  sync  as  he  works  up  to  another  climax.  it's  hard  to  focus  -  that  coil  deep  inside  pulling  taut.  taut  -  and  snapping  as  he  buries  deep  in  her  again,  letting  himself  shamelessly  cum  -  dump  more  of  his  balls  right  into  her  womb.  “take  i'.” 

   it's  almost  too  much  for  him  -  but  he  moves  his  hips  into  her  again.  pushing  past  that  overstimulated  feeling  to  fuck  his  spend  deeper  into  her.  as  if  by  doing  it  he  could  force  it  to  take.  “tha's  i'.  tha's  righ'.  you're  gonna  ge'  knocked  up  by  me.  gonna  ‘ave  my  fuckin’  kids.  never  gonna  fuckin'  leave.”

[grossdesire]

♡ 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐲 & 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐯𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 * @searaphic

" but in his flesh he speaks to me / and i in my flesh understand him. " - delmira agustini

[notfather]

@searaphic sent "you can't just kill someone because of the way they looked at you!"

The corners of his eyes brighten at the outburst.    A flicker of humor     — brief, malicious    — as his gaze studies the creature standing about two severed arms' length away    ( too close, someone should tell her that she's too close ).    Selkie.    He observes the pale,    iridescent glint of the moon against her skin.    She's of the ocean.    He can smell the salt water in her long,   tumbling hair. 

She's of the ocean.    She shouldn't have left. 

Micah takes a step closer, and then another.    The pale extent of a bony hand reaches    — closing the rest of the space, so that fingers might catch onto the dark,    sea-kissed length of her hair    — just stopping short of her cheek.   Pale, moon kissed. 

He thinks about what it might be like to eat her.    He wonders,   wistfully   — dreamily, as he feels the softness of her hair,   if it would be worth it.   Selkie.   Fell angel.    What would she taste like?   Seal? 

"... Why not?"    He asks,   voice soft in his chest.   His eyes are fixed on shape of her cheek.   Full, fleshy.   " —  And if thy right eye offend thee, pluck it out, and cast it from thee."

[bloodwr4th]

@searaphic sent: big stupid slightly unsettling eyes peer up , blink once , then twice. " i am a pacifist , but if you ever hurt nausi , i will bring the wrath of the sea and the heavens on you and-....and you will cry. " it's said as fiercely as possible & she even does a little seal growl for good measure .

he knew his girlfriend had a lot of friends.

something that put a smile on his face when he think about it. he has seen nausi in all the state before. lot of people betrayed her. he wasn't going to be one of them. he was going to be the one who protect her. especially when he only had eyes for her. she was actually accepting him for who he was. even though, he had to admit that he doesn't want her to see all of him, she already know what he think about. so, seeing that people cared for her and would go out of their way to actually threaten him? how could he actually look at them as if they were nothing when they were starting to be everything?

he also knew how protective people could be.

he was protective of her too. he couldn't imagine a second of his life without her by his side. he hadn't had many love stories. sure, he had fun with women and men in the past, but when his eyes fell on nausicaä, nothing and no one could touch him. whether it was psychically or physically. he only had eyes for her. so, when ani had threatened him, he couldn't help but nod as he crossed his arms and looked at her with respect.

" i know i come across as an asshole, i am. but with her, i'm just a simple boy who only has eyes for her. so, don't worry. she's fine with me. she's safe. she's loved on. on the other hand, this confidence of yours, i want to see it all the time. it suits you so well. "

was he trying to win points? yes, it was better to compliment her than to threaten her. she was just warning him. and he was just going to accept that if he did something wrong, the sea would take him. a good punishment, he just had to admit it.

tagging also @wickedslip because she need to see this.

[malka-lisitsa]

It's been a while since she's done it , but here she is , handing Katherine a lollipop. Though this particular lollipop is a blood lollipop that she made herself , just for Katherine!

Oh it has been a while since she got a visit from her personal harpy seal.

The moment she comes into view, Katherine is almost worried that she will have something for her. Though in the Selki's defense the bracelet wasn't that bad, it was actually cute. And the Vile of blood- while strange and unprompted was actually pretty good as far as giving her a boost. So really it's not that the gifts have been bad.... they're just....... weird.... really.... really.... weird....

But again.... The girl is a selki... so she cant really blame her. Fingers pluck the treat from a delicate grasp and she spins it around slowly.

"Do I want to know how you managed to make it into a hard candy...?"

[muutos]

ALEJANDRO MY BELOVED

"ya sabes lo que dicen."

"amado por muchos, experimentado por pocos."

[klaeus]

she's sopping wet from a swim & she's dripping water all over his floors. but it's okay because as she scurries around every single room , leaving water everywhere , when she finally finds him , she promptly , excitedly drops a fish in his lap with the biggest , brightest grin.

it takes a herculean amount of effort, but he just barely manages to maintain a firm grip on his indignation at the sight of water trailing all over the freshly cleaned floors. his form twitches before becoming statuesque when the creature lands on him, for fear of exploding as droplets of water hit the planes of his face. given the enthusiasm in her face, however, he does his utmost to return her smile with one of his own. ❛ love, i do believe we will need to have a discussion about proper indoor manners ⸻ and how to handle seafood. ❜ voice impressively calm, he carefully grasps the tail of the fish, lifting it off his lap and gritting his teeth as water continues to drip onto his clothing. ❛ but for now, it seems we will be eating well for dinner this evening. ❜ he would also need to have the cleaning company return and make a wardrobe change, but . . . he would keep that fact to himself.

[sangelune]

[cre8ed]

@searaphic. SCOTT & ANIELA.

❝ ---- you're hiding something.. what is it? ❞

[spencsreid]

" i don't want you to go away. " [ @searaphic ] her voice soft, a gentle plea. you hated this too, the leaving. it never became any easier to it. after so much loss, you had something that you feared losing. you knew the stakes were high and so did she, every case was a gamble on safety despite the teams best efforts at maintaining it. you did your best to check in with her often but it never fully eased the fear. your hand rose, settling against her cheek as thumb brushed gently against her skin, your expression and eyes soft as your voice lowered slightly.

" i know. i'm hoping it won't be for too long. maybe i can take some time off after. we can go somewhere. just us? "

[drekkavacarc]

anya's  birthday!  ani  did  her  very  best  to  make  a  fish  cake  ,  but  the  truth  is  she's  a  terrible  baker  ,  so  instead  she  is  delivering  a  platter  full  of  just.  raw  fish.  a  perfect  gift  ,  she  would  argue.  her  favorite  kind  of  gift  actually.  "  happy  birthday  ,  anya!!!  "   ﹔  @searaphic.

Eyes  land  on  the  …  pile  of  FISH  ACTING  AS  A  CAKE.   Several  reactions  coming  to  their  mind  &  𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘  𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.   Ani's  never  been  someone  Anya  could  ever  really  be  anywhere  remotely  rude  to.   Short  perhaps  ,  but  only  in  stressful  situations  ,  trying  to  keep  from  reacting  due  to  circumstance  outside  of  the  two  of  them.   SHE  DIDN'T  NEED  THAT  FROM  ANYA.   Studying  the  caked  ,  the  former  assassin  ATTEMPTS   to   decide   just  how  much  they  are  going  to  regret  eating  enough  to  satisfy  the  woman  holding  display  out  to  them.

A  smile  spreads  across  their  features.   Turning  the  corners  of  their  lips  up  into  a  smile  before  ULTIMATELY  TAKING  THE  PLATE  FROM  HER.   They've  lived  through  far  worse  than  food  poisoning  ,  &  it  wasn't  like  if  this  DID  kill  her  she  wouldn't  be  right  back  in  two  shakes.   That  was  nothing  compared  to  the  idea  of  POTENTIALLY  UPSETTING  SWEET  ANI.    ❛❛  I  bet  it's  Kosher!  ❜❜    It's  offered  more  to  Anya  herself  ,  than  to  Ani.   Like  it  might  make  the  endeavor  of  eating  it  better  with  that  knowledge.   That  smile  stays  strong  ,  only  twisting  their  features  into  furrowed  worry  once  they  are  fully  turned  away  from  them  to  put  it  on  the  counter  behind  her.    ❛❛  You  must  have  put  a  lot  of  work  into  it.   You  really  didn't  have  to  go  through  all  the  trouble.   Seein  you's  just  as  good  a  birthday  present.  ❜❜

[salvatoraes]

ani would like stefan to know she enjoys looking at his.... eyebrows. yes. those. 🙃🙃🙃

stefan says, " thank you ... i've never been complimented on my eyebrows before. "

[malka-lisitsa]

selkie sways a little before deciding to sit beside katherine. " will you tell me one of your favorite memories? "

The vampire still has no idea what to make of fish cakes here, but as far as annoying presences go Ani is one Katherine can tolerate.

At least as far as invasive questions.

The problem here, is that Katherine doesn't have a lot of good memories. Not from her childhood, or even from most of her life after she was exiled. The good memories she does have, she likes to keep close to her chest. Lest someone try to twist them, or take them away from her.

However, as stated before? Ani is on the more tolerable side of things, so she can have an answer without the abrasive tone.

"In 1864 I laid eyes on the man who made me feel like all the bullshit in my life was worth it." She stated, it was matter of factly, but there was a small smile to her features.

"The night he confessed his love for me is the one memory I play over and over in my head. It was.... is.... a bitter sweet memory..." Katherine stated, her small smile fading away.

"Because it was the moment I thought I might get to be happy... and it's the moment I hate myself for the most..."

Because it's not true. Katherine doesn't get happy things. They might as well be sand slipping through her fingers for all the while they last.

"Someday.... someday he'll understand I did what I had to do.... someday he'll see me for me again.... someday we'll be happy... If I just keep my head up."

Right...?

[drekkavac-moving]

☆ put this star into the inbox of your favorite blogs - it's time to spread positivity !

THANK YOU SOOOOO MUCH @searaphic!!!! you are absolutely one of my favorite blogs as well , & i am so happy that i found your blog on this hellsite. it's been so much fun plotting the few times that we have , & i'm so excited for the threads we'll get to write across my blogs. you are such a lovely ray of sunshine & thank you so very much for being the wonderful person that you are ... as well as the very wonderful message. i'm gonna cry i stg!

[bitmiscuous]

immortality is such a heavy burden and the selkie knows this almost better than anyone. some think it a blessing , and perhaps it is. perhaps sometimes , it provides an opportunity to see the world and everything in it. to have experiences no mortal could. but for aniela , the worst part always was loss. death of others. of her friends , her lovers , found family , animal companions. the bonds that she created with creatures mortal and vulnerable. " i want to stop losing people i love. "

supernatural, seasons 1 - 5 starters. / accepting .

✝     ———-    ❛   mm .   ❜ the burden of kinship weights heavy on the younger androshchuk's tongue , much as he desires to avoid dwelling on such gloomy thoughts , he does . mortals are best when they are ripe and flushed , with their hearts pumping wild and their chests full of songs , but like the roses in his garden , they always wither too soon . eventually death comes for the reaping , and time eats what is left of them . their songs fade , so does the memory of their face . they become echoes , blurred shapes dancing through history , until they are no more , and every footprints they've left on this earth is erased .

his desire to cling to these things is unnatural , and he knows , he knows well his maker is right : to love such fickle things is foolish , nothing but an act of masochism . but he wants to , he wants to love and be loved , he wants to squeeze them so tight until their bones pop , and their necks break . this skin fits him so well , sometimes he forgets what's underneath , he walks among them , admires them , mimics them , envies them . he covets . because he cannot feel like they do . he is not what they are . not really . he is forever . he is eternal . his skin is cold , and it will never wrinkle , it will never rot , and oh ... how he craves the warmth of the sun , sometimes . ❛   people will always leave ... it's just what they do . ❜ his voice is cool and detached , mirroring his demeanor , but there is a shadow of something else there . sadness . ❛   but if you really love someone , they stay . they stay even if you don't want them to , even if you beg , and you cry , and you go insane trying to claw them out of your chest ... it's like having a splinter lodged into your heart . ❜

[sangelune]

she's tied johnny up, to the nearby chair to watch. sometimes, she she enjoyed when they watched. she also had simon tied up to the bed it was a familiar scenario , one they'd played out often , and each of them having been in the different positions. except there's something slightly off about their girl, but as she straddles her body over simon's hips and grinds against him, it disappears. she leans down, gaze flitting to johnny in the chair. " this one's for you , darling. " and she sticks a knife right into simon's abdomen with the cruelest little smirk. " makarov sends his regards. "

i present to you.......... yet another bad ending.

   johnny's  always  so  willing  when  it  comes  to  aniela.  always  listening,  doing  as  she  asks.  he  doesn't  piece  together  anything;  letting  his  emotions  and  desires  guide  him.  always  had  been  driven  like  that  -  a  true  man,  as  far  as  simon  was  concerned.  not  analytical  or  appraising  of  anything  put  in  front  of  him.  never  picking  up  when  the  winds  change,  when  something  shifts. 

   so  of  course,  when  metal  plunges  into  his  abdomen,  the  silence  before  the  scream  ripping  from  johnny's  throat  is  only  natural.  he  can  vaguely  hear  the  hissing  and  spitting,  hear  johnny  struggling  to  free  himself  of  his  binds. 

   but  for  simon?  the  world  goes  silent  aside  from  a  single  high  pitched  whining  noise.  he  hears  it  in  his  skull.  feels  it  in  his  rotten  marrow.  the  name  she  uttered  -  it  dropped  everything  in  seconds.  if  johnny  were  more  attentive,  he'd  have  seen  the  way  those  pretty  browns  shifted. 

   there  were  very  few  times  he  truly  lost  himself  to  ghost. 

   muscles  tense  under  strain  of  bonds.  bonds  that  cannot  hold  a  ghost.  he'd  always  been  so  patient,  laying  beneath  the  surface  of  simon,  letting  things  happen.  but  when  that  name  passes  her  lips  -  she  ceased  to  be  human.  she  ceased  to  matter.  she  became  a  fucking  threat. 

   and  he  eliminated  threats. 

   the  snap  to  the  bindings  that  should  have  held  him  in  place  blankets  the  room  in  a  terrified  silence.  no  occupant  willing  to  make  a  sound  when  ghost  makes  his  move.  he  shouldn't  have  been  able  to  free  himself  that  easily.  it's  -  inhuman. 

   ghost  doesn't  let  his  enemy  breathe  for  a  second.  he  rips  the  blade  from  his  side,  grabbing  her  by  the  neck  with  his  other,  standing  from  where  he'd  been  bound  and  throwing  her  with  his  full  strength  to  the  wall. 

   the  resounding  crack  from  her  skull  hitting  the  wall  has  johnny  crying  out. 

   somewhere,  a  muffled  scream  for  simon  to  stop  is  being  registered.  but  ghost  doesn't  care.  it  doesn't  matter  anymore.  johnny,  simon  -  ghost  protected  them  both.  she  was  no  longer  a  factor.  she  was  him.  makarov. 

   he  grabs  her  before  she  can  gain  any  bearing,  throwing  her  to  the  floor  without  mercy,  leaving  her  to  sprawl  out  on  her  front.  his  foot  comes  down  on  her  back,  his  full  weight  behind  it,  and  he  hears  the  ribs  break  from  the  force.  there's  screaming  -  but  he  doesn't  register  if  it's  her,  johnny,  or  both. 

   it  doesn't  matter. 

   makarov. 

   his  upper  lips  curls,  and  an  ugly  snarl  rips  past  his  lips,  ghost  kneeling  down,  shoving  the  knife  into  her  side,  between  her  ribs,  puncturing  a  lung  with  the  practiced  ease  of  a  killer.  make  her  suffer.  choke.  gasp.  struggle  to  get  air.  feel  the  pain  of  the  broken  bones,  feel  the  blood  pool  into  her  lungs. 

   understand  this  was  the  point  of  no  return. 

   “allow  me  t'  return  th'  message  t'  ‘im.”  he  growls  it  out,  pulling  the  knife  free  from  her  side,  before  shoving  it  through  one  of  her  hands  and  into  the  floor,  pinning  it  down,  twisting  the  knife  around  to  make  the  wound  worse.  “in  a  fuckin’  bodybag.”