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lilacxquartz · 10 days ago

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love you, love you, love you;

mr. crawling x reader

plot: some things are best expressed without the need of words — themes: spooning/cuddling, smut, maybe yan vibes — w.c: 1.1k

a/n: my first homicipher related fic. i want to try one for mr. silvair & mr. gap next, bc they were also my favs. this game has been taking over my life so much lately. like it’s been in my dreams, haaah.

masterlist • ao3

Mr. Crawling was always loud when he was excited within your company; his laughter filled out the vast empty spaces that were otherwise unadorned with familiarity. Whatever you once sought from those winding corridors was ever-fleeting, temporary, leaving you stuck within the confines of his company.

Yet, when he felt what you could only interpret as affection—that’s when Mr. Crawling then became different—quiet, soothing, kind but also… curious.

And when you would usually sleep, he would stand watch, knelt over the floor as per his usual stance but sometimes crouched near you, sometimes leaning back against the wall with his legs pressed up against his chest. He would watch you as his life depended on it, unwavering in focus and with eerie intensity. He would watch as your chest rose and fell, leaning close on occasion to catch the sweep of your breath and sometimes, he would trace the pad of his milky fingertips in long, languid strokes against your face. Always so delicate, so tender, but for the most part, quiet and even shy.

Having once caught a glimpse of Mr. Gap in your blanket space, however, set something territorial off for Mr. Crawling and he was never able to recover from such an invasion. The very idea that someone else was able to infiltrate what he deemed to be your space—especially someone who he disapproved of—wasn’t something he could stand for. Especially with the sort of trickster Mr. Gap was, he couldn’t bear to see you get hurt. It would kill him on the inside (and on the outside, too).

So, just as you were getting into bed to rest up once more, he too, slipped in under the covers with you. At first, you were startled as usual, turning to face him with confusion evident in your eyes, murmuring out some words in a language that he still could not understand. He repeated something back, the meaning lost and indecipherable upon your ears, though soon surrendering to emphasis using gestures instead. A hug to bring you closer, a reassuring pat on your head and a small, longing kiss over your nose.

You listened to his words again, repeating over and over like a broken record.

Perhaps he meant no harm, after all.

You turned your back to him and settled into his chest, finding that he was surprisingly warm for what he was. His taller frame encased your body, wrapping his ashen arms around your waist—accidentally brushing the fabric that sat over your breast—nicking the cloth ever so slightly. Your breath hitched in surprise and as though in sheepish realisation, he withdrew right away, terrified that you were upset with him.

You drew out a long breath, reminding yourself again, that after everything that has happened thus far…

That, Mr. Crawling does not want to hurt you.

That Mr. Crawling has only ever helped you.

So perhaps, right now, Mr. Crawling only wanted to be closer to you.

You relaxed your breathing, settling into his comforting shadow once more and allowed for his presence to envelop you. He repeated the soothing motions of his grappling arm, although he held onto you softer that time. His hands explored your body with a delicate touch, as though afraid of breaking you—of upsetting you again—his motions growing confident the longer that you didn’t protest. It wasn’t long before he, otherwise not disturbed by your lacking, conscious awareness, decided to explore further with you. Mr. Crawling’s fingers didn’t ask for permission that time, creeping beneath the clinging fabric, feeling your skin against his palms, inviting a pleased, almost delighted smile to curl on his lips.

The silence remained unbroken as Mr. Crawling continued his explorative focus on you; the quickly-building evidence of his need growing harder the longer he pushed himself behind your body, the repeated touches arousing something warmer within him. To both his surprise as well as your own—you were not repulsed, allowing him to creep even lower, below the skirt of the dress and up, brushing his hand up to your exposed skin and, reading into it—you communicated your consent from the moment you parted your legs, allowing him to get even closer.

Confidence surged in Mr. Crawling as he pushed himself into your hilt, allowing his hardened length to slip inside. Betraying the stagnant silence, he shuddered out a ragged gasp before giving into his own rising need; grinding himself into your sopping sex with steadily increasing fervour. His fingers clamped around the curve of your hips as he held you in place, slamming every last inch of himself deep into your core.

Ever touch-starved yet wanting nothing more than to surrender to the sensation of you, Mr. Crawling continued to drive his cock into your needy cunt, soon wrapping his winding arms around your body and holding on tight. He bucked intensely as you soon succumbed to breathless whimpers, incoherently begging for his name. Equally desperate whines rolled off the slip of his tongue as he found his lips pressed into the crook of your neck, dampening your skin with sloppy wet kisses—as many as he could give.

It felt overwhelming for you in a way to be worshipped like this but you did your best to keep up with such intensity, especially as the warm, tingling pleasure built up inside of you, too. You held on just as tight as he did, your hand seeking out his own—fingers weaving into his bony digits—interlocking and squeezing tight the closer you got, your grip and otherwise clenching need tightening simultaneously. To feel him losing himself inside of you was dare you admit, addicting, feeling him completely fill and stretch you out leaving you almost dizzied from the impaling force.

Mr. Crawling, like you, soon surrendered to the rolling bliss from the flick of his hips, feeling a surging warmth mount and rise, encouraging him to lose himself to the searing heat of the moment and you. Encircling your body in a possessive hug, he suddenly began to mutter out a new word in a strained mantra, again and again.

Given how desperate he seemed to be, you understood the meaning as ‘close’, especially as his actions grew more strained and less controlled.

“Close, close, close,” he repeated.

It didn’t take his chased release to catch up as his hips grew to a stutter, rutting out one final pump before melting into you. Mr. Crawling cried into your neck, spilling out the entirety of his overflowing love, feeling the pent-up devotion trickle down your thighs—yet not letting you move away—still retaining his claim on you.

Instead, he kept you even closer than before, not allowing you to part from him ever again (despite understanding your yearning for rest).

Words were never the problem, it seemed.

Mr. Crawling would have always found a way to… connect with you.

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afterglowsainz · 23 days ago

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gold rush | franco colapinto

pairing: brazilian!vet!reader x franco colapinto

summary: you were used to your boyfriend’s flirty personality, but still every now and then you couldn’t help getting jealous

fc: beca oliveira

request: here

a/n: i haven’t done a written fic in so long please bear with me 😭

—

liked by francolapinto, bffusername and others

yourusername patients of the week 💖

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friend1 the cutest!

friend2 the way i couldn’t be a vet cause i would just be kissing them all the time

yourusername oh don’t get it twisted i am kissing them 24/7

bffusername dream job

friend3 how does it feel to live my dream 😭

francolapinto los amo😍 (i love them)

liked by yourusername, alex_albon and others

francolapinto ready for another race week 🤩

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username always with the mate

username ugh just look at him!

username didn’t expect my crush on this man to last this long

username casually serving face on the first pic

username idk how to explain this but he looks like a taylor swift song

yourusername agree

username omg girl hey 💕

—

There was no reason to be angry. No real reason, anyway. Deep down in your mind and at the core of your heart, you knew there was no way Franco was seriously flirting with anyone but you. Your heart on the other hand...

This wasn't the first time this had happened. Since joining F1, Franco had become known for his flirtatious personality and undeniable charm; it was part of who he was, and it had never really bothered you before—you knew what he was like. So why were you suddenly so upset after watching that interview everyone was talking about on Twitter?

The answer was so obvious you didn’t even want to admit it to yourself, but it was staring you right in the face. The reporter was what bothered you. It wasn’t her specifically, of course—you’d seen her a few times and knew she was the picture of professionalism, not to mention charming. But she was completely different from you. It was no secret that Franco had always liked blondes.

—

Damn. All the pieces of the puzzle fell into place with that single message.

Franco had never really stopped to think about the consequences of his actions. Of course he had seen comments online about his interviews, but he never worried about how his girlfriend might interpret them. He was simply doing his job by giving interviews to journalists. If there was someone his age he could feel relaxed around, he would do so—it was part of his personality. But he would never disrespect his girlfriend by insinuating something more. She was everything to him.

Franco quickly went to Twitter to look up the interview video he had given hours earlier. As he analyzed it, he realized how some of the things he said or the way he expressed himself could come off as insinuations on his part, and he cursed himself internally, imagining his girlfriend watching the same video.

He had to fix this, and fast.

liked by yourusername, olliebearman and others

francolapinto special gp coming 🇧🇷 (in the country of the most special person)

tagged yourusername

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username ngl i sometimes be forgetting he has a girlfriend

username THE ABSOLUTE GODDESS

username franco move i’m tryna see y/n

username the hand placement 🥺

username the power couple they are

username in love with them

yourusername okay i guess i might forgive you just this once 🙄

francolapinto i love you (only you) ❤️

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majikkulu · 1 month ago

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━━ ❝MASTERLIST❞

these are my personal observations and may not resonate with everyone. please take them with a grain of salt, as i'm not a professional astrologer! :))

♱ having a stellium in the 5th house can enhance your creativity and lead to experiencing flings or exploring new hobbies.

♱ if you have cancer rising, you might feel more sensitive, moody, and sleepy. this could result in increased emotions, including tears, which isn't always a negative experience!

♱ mars in the 8th house might indicate a time when you could lose your virginity or become more sexually active, feeling more desire than usual.

♱ i experienced a lot of friend betrayals and short-lived friendships while i had mars and uranus in the 11th house.

♱ moon in the 10th house can create confusion about your career path, making you feel pulled in multiple directions regarding what you want to do.

♱ venus in aries can boost your confidence in love, making you more likely to take the initiative in romantic pursuits and leaving your comfort zone.

♱ scorpio rising often brings significant changes and transformations, not just in your appearance but in various aspects of your life, marking a transformative year.

♱ uranus in the 6th house may bring unexpected and unusual illnesses, as well as the possibility of acquiring a non-traditional pet unexpectedly. it can also lead to unexpected changes in your weight, perhaps involving cycles of gaining and then losing.

♱ uranus in the 2nd house can bring ups and downs in your finances, leading to unpredictable income or expenses.

♱ having the sun in the 4th house encourages you to explore your roots, especially if you’re someone who doesn't know much about your parents or grandparents. it may also lead to spending more time at home.

♱ moon conjunct pluto can lead to intense emotions that are often transformative and sometimes painful.

♱ aquarius rising might make it easier for you to detach from situations. this placement can bring unexpected changes and experiences, both positive and negative.

♱ mars conjunct the ascendant can provide increased motivation and energy. you may become more direct and straightforward in your actions, leading to impulsive decisions and potential conflicts or aggression.

♱ a 1st house stellium isn’t always advantageous. while some suggest it brings glow-ups, i believe it primarily fosters self-discovery, prompting you to confront and evaluate different aspects of yourself deeply.

♱ sun conjunct neptune can enhance your intuition, allowing you to notice your inner voice more acutely. you may find yourself predicting events and becoming more sensitive to energies, along with experiencing significant dreams.

♱ with mercury conjunct neptune, your intuition may become even more pronounced, particularly in writing and communication. this placement can make it easier to interpret symbols and meanings.

#divination #astrology #solar return #astrology readings #astronotes #astro observations #astro community #astro placements #astro notes #astroblr #astronomy #astrology notes #astro tumblr #astrology community #astrology blog #solar return chart #astrology observations #natal chart #astrology placements

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astraystayyh · 1 year ago

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In my dreams

Seungmin x reader. (fake) enemies to lovers. my interpretation of in my dreams by tearliner, love X stereo.

Seungmin has never liked you. You never understood why, but you were slowly coming to terms with it. However, you gradually come to learn that there is more to his feelings than what meets the eye.

skz song series

cw: reader has anxiety and deals with lots of self-doubt and insecurities.

a.n: the end of our skz song series!! and a pretty personal final fic, this one is based on my own experience with anxiety, so it might differ for everyone :) thank you for reading as always <3

You watch, a soft smile on your face as two little girls play with one another in the playground. It reminds you of simpler times, when you could just walk up to another human and become friends with them instantly.

But reality is much more challenging, especially for someone like you, constantly plagued by their anxious thoughts.

Anxiety didn't tiptoe into your life, one drop at a time so you'd get accustomed to its overwhelming presence. Instead, you woke up one day and it barged into you, through cracks and dents you didn't even know existed in your being, and then it made itself a permanent home within the confines of your heart.

You never truly learned how to live with this parasite feeding off your soul, draining you completely until you became a mere shell of who you once were. You never fully adjusted to the invisible hands choking you from within, to the voice nagging you in the back of your mind, telling you that something horrible was bound to happen.

Because nothing ever went wrong, day after day, nothing bad happened. And yet, the feeling of dread persisted and lingered until you started to believe that the problem was you.

And once you opened the door to self-doubt, you could never fully close it again.

You're too overwhelmed, too nervous, too much of everything bad. Your conversations are scrutinized, down to every syllable you uttered, to the way you smiled and how you laughed. The interactions might differ but the regret that haunts you after is the same.

So, you diluted your being, in an effort to be more acceptable, easier in the lives of the people around you. You believed that if you pleased everyone you ever encoutered then at the end you must satisfy yourself too.

You sigh softly, drumming your fingers along your knee. You’re starting a new year in college tomorrow. Your first one wasn't exceptional by any means. Aileen, the girl who sat beside you from time to time was nice, and you grabbed coffee sometimes as you prepared for your exams together. But she had other friends, ones she's much closer to, ones she invited to her birthday party, ones who she didn't simply fill her free time with.

You shake your head, putting a stop to the thoughts in your head before they get too much once again, pushing you over an edge you don't want to be in right now.

You'll try harder this year. You'll be okay, for once.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

Your professor Lee is scribbling something on the large whiteboard, as he waits for the class to fill up. Someone sits next to you, and the smell of their cologne wafts to your nose- hints of vanilla and wood seemingly calming down your nerves. You quickly take a glance at them, to find a guy with long brown hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. He's taking out his notepad from his bag, and you smile at the chick keychain he has on it. He catches you looking and you quickly avert your gaze, heat creeping up your cheeks.

"Hi, I'm Felix," he greets enthusiastically, and you turn your head slowly to be met with his wide grin. It softens his features, making his eyes turn into moon crescents. You envy his ability to smile without overthinking how he looks.

"Yn," you introduce back, and he nods, the grin still etched on his face. "You were in my Economics class last year, no?" he asks and you tilt your head to the side, as you mull over his question.

"I was but I don't remember seeing you," you admit sheepishly and he waves a hand in the air, not bothered the least by your words.

"It's okay, I just remembered your presentation on Inflation. I finally understood why we can't just print more money," he admits with a chuckle, and you giggle against your will.

"I don't blame you, it sounds like an easy solution," you agree, and his eyes widen.

"Right! when I tell my friends they just stare at me in disappointment."

You laugh at his adorable pout, an unfamiliar warmth stirring within your chest. He's nice.

"I'm glad I helped you then, I was so nervous presenting it," you clear your throat as he smiles impressively at you. "Really? I couldn’t tell at all."

Mr. Lee calls for your attention and you both turn your heads back to the board. You couldn’t really focus, Felix’s words echoing in your head like a broken mantra- he couldn’t tell you were nervous. A sudden relief dawns on you at the possibility that, maybe, not everyone is aware of the neverending storm raging within you, threatening to drown you at any giving moment.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"Movie night at my dorm?" Felix proposes as he packs up his bag, your two hours long class finally done.

"Will Seungmin be there?" you ask, a slight edge to your voice and Felix pauses, shaking his head at you.

"Yn, you're overreacting. I promise he doesn't hate you."

"Have you ever seen him smiling at me?" you ask, arching your eyebrow expectantly at him. He stays silent and you wiggle your finger in the air. "Exactly! Please tell me he won't be there."

"About that... He's helping me bake the cookies," Felix smiles sheepishly and you groan, falling dramatically on your seat.

"I’m not coming."

"But the cookies," Felix pouts, and the promise of the chewy baked goods is so enticing it makes you second-guess your decision.

"The cookies...," you whine, and Felix giggles grabbing your hand to pull you up.

"I’ll see you at 5?"

"Yes," you concede, a small smile on your lips. You wait until Felix bids you goodbye for it to finally slip from your face.

Seungmin has never liked you, from the moment Felix introduced you to him. You still remember it clear as day, the way his eyes slightly widened when they fell on you, before narrowing down. How he didn't utter a single word when Felix left you both alone to get your drinks. Your panic grew as an uncomfortable silence reigned on the both of you, and you racked your brain for something to say to cut through that eerie quiet.

"Seungmin, right?" you asked, a bit too cheerfully, and you winced inwardly at your tone. He didn't reply, only humming back. It was so faint you wouldn't have caught it had you not been staring at him intently.

"What's your major?" Your voice cracked.

"Computer science." He replied curtly, and you waited patiently, expecting him to return the question. He didn't. And you shifted awkwardly from one foot to another. Maybe he just didn't do well with strangers. Maybe he wasn't a chatty person, to complement Felix's extroverted nature.

But you were wrong. You watched in complete astonishment as he teased Felix relentlessly, a wide smile on his face. It made his eyes soften, a newfound fondness itching itself on his expressions. He laughed and he joked and you felt yourself shrink more and more, this way he wouldn't notice you anymore, wouldn't glare at you as if you did something horribly wrong to him.

Felix tried to include you as best as he could in their conversation, but you tuned it out. It was hard to focus on their talk when there was a tumultuous one ongoing in your mind. Seungmin's behavior just further cemented every horrible idea you held about yourself. There is something wrong about you, and he can see it. You may have fooled Felix but you didn't fool Seungmin. If you were him you wouldn't talk to you either.

Every encounter with Seungmin since then left you feeling fifteen years old again, in a classroom full of unkind eyes zeroed on you. You tried to talk about his interests, to string along a normal conversation, one that would reassure that your first encounter was a wrongful impression.

But he did not like talking to you, only offering short replies in response. It’s as if his tongue was tied in your response, and in return it only magnified the knot in your stomach. You went through every conversation with him a million times in your head, trying to pinpoint what exactly went wrong. What warranted him to be so silent in your presence, and yours only, as if you weren’t worthy of a simple conversation. And the answer always tied back to you.

So, you’ve been avoiding him like the plague for the past month, sparing him the chore that is existing near you. It was particularly hard since Felix was his best friend and roommate, and surprisingly he actually enjoyed spending time with you. Still, you couldn’t help but think that it was only a matter of time before Felix started to hate you too.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"You're moving too much," Seungmin chastises and you freeze in your place at his words. You are sitting on the couch of Felix’s dorm later on that day, a horror movie playing in the small TV before you. Felix decided to lay on the floor, buried in a pool of yellow blankets, and a long pillow that weirdly had the picture of one of their friends printed on it. "It's my safety net," he explained and you didn't question him any further.

For some reason, Seungmin decided to sit next to you, instead of the opposing couch. Granted, he can see the TV more clearly from here, still this is the first time he willingly went somewhere near you, let alone talked to you.

You decide to ignore him, too focused on predicting the next jump scare, your feet tapping the floor furiously. But still, it happens so abruptly, eliciting a startled gasp from you, anf you clutch the edge of the couch even tighter.

"Close your eyes," Seungmin speaks suddenly and you raise an eyebrow at him, confused.

"There is a jump scare coming soon," he clears his throat, "just... close your eyes if you don't want to see it."

You comply without much thought and soon enough, you can hear a shrill scream coming from the screen. He was right.

"It passed," he says softly, and you tentatively open your eyes once again. There is a foreign expression on Seungmin's face, one you haven't seen before, but it passes as quickly as it came, like a dream slipping between your fingers as soon as you wake up.

"How did you know?" you ask, hugging your knees tightly to your chest.

"I already watched this movie."

"Really? Why are you watching it again?"

"Because. I had nothing better to do," he says, almost defensively, his hand now covering his mouth as if he had to physically stop the words from spilling out.

You don't reply, turning back to look at the screen. Seungmin doesn't tell you when a jump scare is coming next, he simply taps your arm, and you close your eyes on cue.

His hand brushing against your bare skin feels weird, not uncomfortable by any means, but it still is a foreign sensation. You didn't know he had such soft hands, and you always imagined them to be cold. But they are warm, and you wonder what other things about Seungmin you've been wrong about.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

"I'm so tired," Felix groans, laying his head on your shoulder and you giggle, patting his head in mock sympathy. It's been three months since the start of your year, which means that the assignments are starting to pile up on you all.

"Me too," you sigh, and Seungmin stays silent next to you. Felix dragged you both to this coffeeshop, a little outing to recharge his spirit, as he texted you. You're slowly getting used to Seungmin's brooding presence. He talks to you a little more, even cracking a few jokes here and there. But you’re still wary of him. You keep your guard up just in case he forcefully brings a mirror to your face once again, reminding you of everything you despise about yourself.

"I'll go order, it's my treat. Pick a place for us?" Felix says and you nod, walking ahead of Seungmin towards a table near the back.

You sit down first, and Seungmin follows second, sitting right across from you. You quickly bring out your phone, scrolling mindlessly through the apps to distract yourself from the man in front of you.

"You have a presentation tomorrow, right?" Seungmin speaks up, startling you, and you slowly put your phone down.

"Yes, how did you know?"

"Felix told me that it makes up 25% of your grade. Are you nervous?"

"A little," you admit, even though ‘a little’ didn't even begin to cover it.

"Don't be. You'll do well," he says, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. You almost feel as if you've imagined it before it dissipates.

"Thank you," you nod, as Felix brings the tray down your table.

"Is this for me?" you ask tentatively, pointing to the strawberry milkshake, a sore thumb sticking out between the iced americano, and the hazelnut Frappuccino, Seungmin’s and Felix’s respective go to orders.

"They got the order wrong. I got you an iced matcha," Felix pouts, double checking his receipt.

"It's okay," you smile slightly. There was nothing you despised more than having to change up your order.

"You don't want to drink this," Seungmin says, staring at you expectantly and you wave your hand in the air dismissively. "I don't mind."

Seungmin stands up, grabbing the drink from your hand before taking the receipt from the table. He goes to the counter and you watch in astonishment as he comes back, a green drink in hand this time.

"Here," he hands you your cup, before grabbing his own and sipping from it. Your drink is cold, but the warm tingles spreading through your being at his sweet gesture outweigh any other feeling.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

Talking in front of 267 people never gets easier.

You memorized your presentation; you rehearsed it so much you could probably recite it with your eyes closed. Yet, the nerves still found a way to weave themselves inside you. Your hands were shaking, so much you couldn't even stare at the notes you prepared. Your palms were sweaty, blood rushing rapidly to your ears, tuning out your voice as you spoke.

You can’t even recall what you said exactly, it’s as if your body had a mind of its own, your mouth moving itself without you commanding it. You aren’t sure how it was, but someone smiled at you reassuringly from the first row, and the professor clapped, so you assume you did okay.

The class finally ends, your nerves slowly dissipating and leaving in their trail an excruciating exhaustion. You rub your eyes tiredly, as you slowly walk out of the door, before stopping in your tracks when you notice Seungmin leaning against the wall, hands buried in his varsity jacket.

His eyes are closed, a pair of earphones dangling across his chest. But then, as if he feels you looking at him, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze on you. You stay put in your place as he walks to you, his bag loosely hanging from his shoulder. He hooks his thumb underneath the strap, keeping it in place

"How was it?" he questions, and it takes you a few seconds to register what he was asking about. Your presentation. Was he waiting for you?

"I think I did well?" you reply, but it comes out more of a question to which he giggles softly.

"Are you asking me?" he teases and you roll your eyes playfully. "I did well," you repeat and he smiles, nodding a bit. "I’m sure you did. Here." He opens his bag, taking out your favorite chocolate bar from it- it had bits of caramelized pistachio and almonds in it. Seungmin doesn’t like it, he prefers plain milk chocolate, as Felix told you one day.

"Eat this, I ended up buying two by mistake, I still have an extra one at the dorm." You grab it from his hands, and he quickly leaves before you could properly thank him.

≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋≋

You always dread the days you'd wake up with a heavy weight crushing your chest.

You try to distract yourself, try to focus in class and take notes. You try to laugh at Felix's jokes and savor the brownies he just brought you. But you can't. It feels as if you're a cup filled to the brim, each passing second bringing you closer to when that fateful drop would finally make you overflow. And you could do nothing but watch yourself unravel.

Seungmin's eyes never leave you, and it only makes your anxiety spike. It feels as if he's peering inside your soul, witnessing how a cord ties itself around your throat, making it impossible for you to breathe. You can't speak anymore, every word you say threatening to make tears spill out of your eyes. You aren't sure you can make them stop if they ever start falling.

Nothing happened, nothing's happening, you try to remind yourself. But you are scratching your hand incessantly, and you feel an overwhelming need to flee. To run away, somewhere where only you would witness the display of your broken soul. So you sputter a meek excuse, and then you stand up and head to your dorm.

It's raining outside, and you don't have an umbrella. But you are grateful for it, since the rain mingles with your salty tears, shielding them from the curious eyes of the people passing by. You need to get home, you need to hide somewhere and you need to remember how to breathe-

"Yn," a hand grabs your forearm and you startle, instinctively taking two hurried steps back. It's Seungmin. He removed his blue hoodie and he's now placing it over both of your heads.

"What are you doing? You'll get sick," he sounds mad, and you can't take his disappointed tone anymore.

"I'm having a bad day and I don't need you to make it worse," you say, startling yourself with the raw emotion in your voice.

He physically recoils from your words, his arms faltering as he gazes at you, a wounded look in his eyes. "I make your days worse?" he asks quietly and his voice sounds so small, you can't help the regret that courses through you.

"Come on, Seungmin," you chuckle warily, "don't you hate me?"

"No?"

"Hate is a strong word, okay. You dislike me."

"I don't. Why would you think that?"

"Because you never wanted to talk to me, from the moment we met. And it wouldn't matter if you were this way with everyone, but it's only me. And you make me feel so small each time I'm around you," you ramble angrily, as Seungmin's eyes widen with each passing second.

"Yn, yn, I don't- I didn't know you felt this way, but I don't hate you. I truly don't, I promise you," he's panicking, voice growing higher with each word, and you feel a sudden embarrassment flood your being for lashing out at him.

You don't know what to say and he sighs, looking up at the cloudy sky before meeting your eyes once again.

"This is embarrassing, God, um..." he places his hoodie on top of your head before running a hand through his face. "I don't talk to you because you make me nervous."

"I do?"

"Yes. A lot," he chuckles, a pink hue tinting his cheeks. "I just... I find you very interesting, and funny, and I like watching you, not in a creepy way, my God what am I saying," he whines, hiding his face in his hands and you can't help the giggle that escapes your mouth.

"Don't laugh," he pouts and you nod, willing the smile to disappear from your face.

"I like watching you exist. Just laugh and smile and talk. You look very pretty doing it. I just don't know how to deal with it. That's on me."

This time the smile is effectively gone from your face. The weight of his confession distracting you from the turmoil of emotions that swirled within you.

"I'm sorry, for making you feel that way. I never meant to. For what it's worth, you make me feel like a small kid again, as if I'm having a crush for the first time."

A fresh wave of tears brims in your waterline, and Seungmin's eyes soften at the sight.

"Please don't cry," he says, gently wiping the rain droplets from your cheeks. "I don't hate you, I think I like you too much and that's the problem."

I'm sorry I misjudged you, until you wiped my tears off away

"Okay," you say quietly, your mind not yet registering what he said, too busy focusing on his hands on your face. You can't believe you've ever felt invisible because of Seungmin, when he's looking at you like you're the most precious being in the world.

"You had a bad day?" he asks, his knuckles brushing against your cheek tenderly, and you nod, silently.

"Would you like a hug?" he asks, and you nod again. A hug sounded nice.

He steps forward, wrapping his arms around you. His t-shirt is cold, clinging to his now wet skin. But a surprising warmth emanates from his chest, shielding you from the pouring rain- it travels from his body to yours, as if it's a familiar path, one it underwent a million times before. His hand finds your back, and he pats it gently, following a soothing rhythm, one you try to sync your breathing to. "You did well," he whispers, "you always do well," and his words feel like a patch of shade on a scorching day.

You exhale softly, tightening your arms around his waist. You think you can stay here, for a while. You could rest in Seungmin, now and tomorrow, and maybe for the following months. If he still likes you this much.

Bonus

"I'm ready," Seungmin says, his soft hair tickling your bare skin. He's laying on top of your stomach, black tie undone, a piece of crumpled paper in his hands. You can tell he's nervous, with the way he looks up at the ceiling, avoiding your gaze. You lean down, pressing a sweet kiss to the top of his head. He closes his eyes, his hold on the yellowed paper slightly faltering.

"I'm all ears," you whisper, and he smiles softly at you, before looking at his written vows- the ones you decided to read to each other after your wedding ceremony, just the two of you, in your personal bubble. It feels much more intimate this way, they are words meant for you only to hear, after all.

"My love," he starts, and he can already feel the tears welling up in his eyes. He blinks repeatedly, in a desperate attempt to keep them at bay. "If I'm reading this it means I finally married you, which is probably the best thing I've ever done in my life." You giggle and he can't help but smile at the sound of your laugh.

"I am writing these vows one year into our relationship, I haven't proposed yet, but I just know you're the one I want to marry. And I suppose I don't want to forget everything I want to say to you, when that day comes." His words make your breath hitch in your throat as realization dawns on you- he wrote this three years ago, and he kept it safe, till this day.

"I still remember when I saw you for the first time. I couldn't talk because you looked so pretty, and you were smiling at Felix and I felt an overwhelming need to be the one you were smiling at. I think you cast a spell on me because I couldn't even ask you about your major back, I couldn't believe how awestruck I was. But you already know this, don't you?" He looks up at you, pressing a quick kiss to your stomach and you smile widely. You still remember when Seungmin recounted the first time you met, from his perspective. Rosy cheeks and fumbling words as he explained how much he felt for you in that instant, and how little he could express it.

"But there are still things I haven't told you," he clears his throat. "Like how Felix told me what horror movie he was planning to watch with you, and I looked it up the night before, to memorize all the jump scares just in case you were afraid. And you were, and I'm glad I did. I don't even like horror movies, but it was worth watching it three times in a row, just for you."

"Also, how I had to run out of my class to yours, so I'd catch you after the end of your presentation. I bought that chocolate only for you. I kept a stack of fifteen bars hidden in my desk, just in case you were feeling down, and you ended up needing it. I kept asking Felix about everything you liked, and disliked, and he was probably sick of me at that time," he chuckles, as memories of begging his roommate for any bit of information about you flooded his mind.

"I don't know how far into the future it'll be when I'll finally read this to you. I don't know how I'll be, or where I'll be, but as long as you're with me then I must be okay. I used to overthink everything, plan every part of my life so it'd run smoothly. That is until you came into my life, so suddenly, and you flipped it upside down. I didn't care to plan my life anymore, all that mattered is that it revolved around you," he pauses, sucking in a deep breath.

"I knew I wanted to marry you when you took me stargazing. You talked about the stars and galaxies so excitedly. And then you brought up Saturn; how it was unique among the planets, adorned with thousands of ringlets. And I remember thinking that you're my saturn, you're the dazzling planet that everyone admires and I'm the ring spinning around you, the one you're keeping afloat. And as long as you're here, I have a purpose and I'm okay. So please..." his voice wavers, as silent tears slip out of his eyes.

"Don't leave me. I know we're married now, but still, don't leave me. I love you. I feel like I've loved you in different lifetimes, in different earths and timelines. Everything can come crashing down around us, but one thing that'll forever remain the same is my love for you. I was made to love you, after all. My eyes were made to look at you, and my hands to graze your cheeks. And my heart... My heart was made to beat for you. And I love you. I feel like I don't say it enough but I truly love you. As long as I'm breathing then I'm yours."

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witchygirlgray333 · 1 year ago

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Some topics + prompts for your grimoire or book of shadows

books you want to read

local folklore / mythology / legends

the wheel of the year

plants you have in your house or garden (their care, properties, uses, draw them etc)

theban alphabet

days of the week and their correspondences

write about a deity you worship / are drawn to

draw art for / of a deity you worship or are drawn to

colour magic

the elements

write about the crystals you own (draw them, write their properties, correspondences, uses, how it makes you feel etc)

how to make your own crystals

your birth chart

your sun, moon and rising sign

natural medicine (as a chronically ill witch I love natural medicine NOT AS A SUBSTITUTE FOR PRESCRIPTIONS! for example I take all my prescription meds and then if I'm having period pain I might drink some raspberry leaf tea)

positive affirmations / mantras that you connect with

how to manifest

history of witches

deities in a certain pantheon you're interested in or drawn to

write about a spell you've done (how you did it, why you did it, how you felt, the results of it, what you would change if you did the spell again etc)

chakras

write about a dream you've had

tarot reading tricks and tips

moon phases

sabbats

zodiac signs

family tree

poetry / songs / quotes you connect to (i like to find ones that make me feel powerful or witchy, or remind me of certain aspects of my practice. a song i like for this is rhiannon by fleetwood mac and i'm going to post more things like this regularly on my page)

feathers and their meanings

simple everyday magic

recipes

some ideas for the next sabbat you plan to celebrate

tarot spreads you like

write about a tarot reading you've done (any prep you did, the deck you used, the cards you pulled, your personal interpretation of the cards based on the art and how you feel, the meaning of the cards, how the cards relate to the questions you asked, final reflection on how you feel the reading went)

interesting mythology

tree of life

glamour magic

money bowls

crystal shapes and their meanings

grounding techniques

cleansing

protection

banishing

cord cutting spells

essential oils

types of divination

planets and their correspondences

angel numbers

witchy wishlist

go to supplies and ingredients (herbs and things that you use regularly)

favourite crystals

working with your inner child

if you've had a really good or particularly insightful meditation session it can be nice to either draw or write what happened and how you felt during it

witchy arts and crafts and diys you want to do

altar ideas

read a witchy book / watch a witchy video and take notes

write about your ancestors

witchy things to incorporate into your daily routine

what is a tower moment

witchy reset / self care days

the history of the area you live in

veiling

how to make your own incense sticks

shadow work

shadow work prompts

ok, that's all the ideas I have for now and I hope that helps someone! I'll be posting some pages from my grimoire and some more prompt / topic ideas in the near future which I'm really excited for.

P.S. please remember that everyone's practice is their own and you should do what feels right to you while respecting that other people have their own beliefs (as long as they're not hateful).

#grimoire #booksofshadows #witch #pagan #paganism #celtic paganism #journalling #creativity #art #art journal #journal #welsh witch #witchcraft #witch tips #grimoire ideas #grimoire prompts #shadow work #bookofshadowsprompts

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yakutarts · 5 months ago

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Video process:

Soo.. Cross is now a furry. If you would like to draw this design (first of all bless you and god have mercy on your hands, second of all I’m sorry I made the design so complicated, I got carried away) please tag/credit me! I really love seeing fanarts!

I made him a African Painted Dog and a Border collie mix because I think it is what fits him best.

Painted Dogs are really social creatures, and extremely skilled in the hunt, the base of it’s strength is the pack, the family and friends. A pack of Painted Dogs are deadlier than a pride of lions and much more dangerous than a pack of wolves. However, take it’s pack away and it cannot survive. Family is everything for a Painted Dog, it is survival. If I’m not mistaken, there have been cases where they die because the anxiety separation gets so bad, that it causes an hormone imbalance in the dog’s system and it kills them (Also I do not know if this is legit, take my words with a big grain of salt, I am not a biologist or a zoologist). Cross is depressed and being alone in that white void for so long, knowing that everything is his fault, that he killed everyone that he loved for no reason, almost drove him mad (XChara was not helping), but Ink was there, he helped cross not die of a broken heart. Cross is strong, but he would be even stronger if he had the rest of the royal guard by his side, he would fight better.

I also chose a Border Collie because they are really smart working dogs, loyal and obedient, with a need of someone telling them what to do. Cross kinda always needed for someone to tell him what to do, he was always following someone, first he was serving royalty, then XFrisk as his bodyguard, then Nightmare, and now possibly Dream. He was always told to do something, almost never acting by himself. He needs it, if he doesn’t have it, how is he going to save his friends? His family? He can’t fight XGaster when he can control Cross’ body at will, how he is going to get that independence if everything tells him that he needs to serve someone to even do something?

Oh, how I love angst and making characters suffer… :)…. Reminder that I put a lot of personal headcanons in my interpretation, this should not be taken as a source of canon material, but feel free to use it as inspiration!

Also if the quality is kinda shit it’s because all the images are glazed.

Ink belongs to @comyet

Cross belongs to @jakei95

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hadesknockedupintheunderworld · 4 months ago

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Okay now that I've reblogged that one post...

Holy shit

Like, please understand me. This is how I already interpreted these relationships after reading Journal 3 but like

Wow Ford really was in a weird kinda complicated gay situationship with Bill and Fiddleford, huh? When he's all alone on Christmas in tbob he's all like "Oh yeah haha of course...of course. You have. Yeah. You have a wife, F. How could I expect you not to leave. I am totally not secretly hoping you'll turn around and come back to me, or that you'll even bring your family back here if you have to so I can see you. I'd retreat to my dreams but I haven't seen my muse in weeks and I miss him so badly. I'm so alone"

He and Fiddleford aren't even dating but it's hard not to get the light impression that this situationship is such that Ford kinda treats Bill like his comfort triangle from his head and dreams and Fiddleford like his comfort best friend in his lab. Like he's sad on Christmas that his boyfriends left him alone, you know? Of course it's definitely more complicated than just that, but they are dear companions to him

Or when Bill finally comes back and Ford is pissed

"You return now? After all of that, after me missing you so badly, almost dying, wondering if I'd dreamed it all up. You return now like it was no biggie? Did you ever mean the things you said? Did you not find some other scientist or some other big brain to talk up? Have you found someone else? Another partner?"

And then Bill, dodging the question was like "Funny you think I'm cheating on you as if you haven't been spending all that time with F. The side bitch. The third wheel. You've even considered telling him everything, even though you know he has second thoughts. Heh. A little birdie told me he dreams of shutting down the project even."

Leading Ford to be like "Aw hell how could I accuse my muse of such a terrible thing when I haven't been a saint. He's right! F has been much less motivated lately and I've just gotten so paranoid from the isolation. I'm so sorry for my baseless accusations."

I don't even have a lot to say I just love these three. Fiddleford put up with a lot of shit from Ford while also dealing with his own problems and trying to help him regardless, while Stanford saw him as a comfort and a good friend but ultimately someone who was of lesser mind than he and couldn't see things through his eyes, while Bill was in Stanford's corner actively making him worse and contributing to his isolation (trying to get him to drop Fiddleford and actively feeding his paranoia), while Stanford was seeing both relationships of his with stars in his eyes and rose tinted glasses because he refused to do some introspection

There's so much stuff that journal 3 and tbob added to the equation that's just bad/shitty all around. Can't believe Ford went through a double divorce/breakup despite not having ever been married (or, at least, despite not even officially dating them sorta)

The entire situation in the past is just tragic and hilarious and concerning all at once and that's what I like the portal trio for tbh

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darkestspring · 5 months ago

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Sometimes I wonder if you ever think about me the way I think about you.

with aegon x niece or sister reader please!

2k followers event | requests open

Maybe it would be easier if Aegon hated you as he hated your brothers. It would be much easier to just brush off the thoughts he always had of you.

He didn't care about Aemond, egging your brothers on to bully him without a thought and then stopping cold turkey when he saw your disapproving stare.

It hurt more any words, your disapproving stare as you guided your brother's away scolding them.

But that was then, he was a teenager then and he was a man now, just as you were no longer a girl but a woman. He still thought the same of you. Still yearned the same.

No amount of his mother's nagging or his grandfather's shouting could change his mind, he wanted you so badly that it felt like his heart was clawing its way out of his chest. It felt like if you didn't look at him or speak to him, he'd go crazy.

That's why in the several years you were aware after driftmark, he spent them drunk out of his mind or out in brothels, searching for girls that looked like you. But they were never the same and he ended up just giving up and keeping himself stupid drunk.

His every thought was consumed by you, you were drving him mad with your absence.

Come back, he pleaded drunkenly to himself, come back and soothe my heart so that I may be whole again. Take responsibility for what you have caused in me.

When you finally came back, wearing red and black, standing just a bit ahead of Jace, he felt like his breath had been stolen from him. It felt like finally all the fighting with his mother and protesting his farce of an attempted marriage to Helaena was worth it, you were back.

"Niece." His voice was smooth as he cornered you just outside of the chambers you were staying in for the remaining days of your visit.

"Uncle." Your voice was cool as you peered up at him through inquisitive eyes. "Someone might interpret this as something it is not."

"And what is this, niece?" Aegon tilted his head to the side. "Sometimes I wonder if you ever think about me the way I think about you." He whispered softly, thumb grazing over your bottom lip softly, eyes dark as he gazed down at you.

"Do you yearn painfully for me the way I do for you?" His voice turned almost raspy as he leaned closer to you.

You peered up at him almost studying him as you intently peered into his eyes. It seems you had found what you wanted in him that you cupped his cheeks softly with your hands and kissed him.

It felt like another fantasy, was he dreaming again because he missed you so dearly? He didn't care if he did because it was everything he imagined it to be.

He felt whole again.

#aegon targaryen x reader #nico's 2k follower event

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flowerandblood · 6 months ago

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The Fall from the Heavens (37)

[ canon • Aemond x Strong • niece female ]

[ warnings: angst, attempted murder, descriptions of wounds and their effects, descriptions of the fight ]

[ description: A cool distance turns into friendship and more when two children see that they can find refuge and understanding in each other. However, naïve dreams collide with the reality in which every event has consequences and what once could have been love becomes a dark, newly painful obsession. Angst, sexual tension, obsession, violence, madness, very dark Aemond. ]

The story in this series is an alternate reality from the oneshot Stay and love, leave and die, in which Aemond reads the letters his niece has sent to him over the years. They are the same characters and it shows what would have happened between them − I have changed the background story from their childhood slightly for the sake of the plot.

Characters & Series Moodboard Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Moodboard Aemond & Lady Strong Childhood

Remember to read Alys POV before this chapter: click

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

Jace's presence in Harrenhal was making him furious – although he was staying in his chamber, offended apparently at the whole world, he was irritated by the very fact that it was unclear when he intended to return to Dragonstone. His wife noticed his sullen mood and, to his satisfaction, decided to speak with her brother. What he heard when she returned to their quarters, however, shocked him more than relieved him.

"What?" He asked, hearing that this fool intended to take Alys Rivers with him.

"He fucks her?" He sneered, raising his eyebrows in amusement. His wife sighed heavily, burying her face in her hand, exhausted.

"I don't know. He didn't refer to her as his mistress, just his relative. Which in our family, unfortunately, leaves a lot of room for interpretation, as you know, uncle." She muttered, stroking her slightly rounded belly as she walked slowly to the window. He involuntarily chuckled at her words, shaking his head.

One of the things he had treasured about her since childhood was the irony she was able to frame with her own characteristic gentleness.

"He was seeing her without your permission?" He asked lowly, looking down at his fingers. His niece sighed heavily.

"Yes."

"Are you going to leave this insult unanswered?"

"I don't have the strength for it, Aemond. Let him do what he wants. He plans to leave for Dragonstone tomorrow morning."

He hummed under his breath, spreading out comfortably in his chair, satisfied.

"Wonderful."

They both shuddered as one of the guards walked into his chamber without warning. The man bowed before them.

"What is it?" He asked coldly.

"Your Grace. We have come across the trail of Larys Strong."

He got up from his seat and nodded at the man to come closer, feeling his heart pounding like mad.

"Speak."

"Lord Strong was seen an hour's ride on horseback from Harrenhal. Someone noticed people moving around in the ruins of the old fortress at night and recognised a man limping on one leg among them." The man replied.

He pressed his lips together in contentment, thinking that the moment had arrived when he would finally be able to cut off the head of this viper and throw it to his wife at her feet.

"Assemble the troop. We leave at nightfall."

His wife watched from the sidelines as he and his commanders discussed how to plan their expedition.

He decided he would fly on Vhagar to raze Lord Strong to the ground.

"What if it's a trap? Doesn't that seem too easy to you?" She muttered uncertainly, stroking her lower abdomen in a nervous gesture with her trembling hand, looking up at him with her big eyes. He stared at her wordlessly, fastening the buckles of his leather coat, changing into his riding attire.

"I'm sure it's a trap. Nevertheless, it won't be much of one if I burn them alive." He hummed, grasping her face in his hands, placing a lingering, wet kiss on her forehead. He heard her swallow hard, stroking his shoulder.

"The fire won't reach him if he's hiding underground. Perhaps it would be better if I flew with you?"

Her suggestion made him boil with rage.

"I think you have completely lost your mind." He said coldly, his pupil narrowing dangerously in frustration.

"I will assign you my most trusted guards to look after our quarters. You are not to leave them until I return. Do you understand?" He asked drily, impatient.

She nodded her head.

His hands cupped her warm cheeks as he leaned in to place a comforting, tender kiss on her sweet lips, but he stopped in mid-motion when the door to his chamber opened.

He turned over his shoulder, frustrated, and saw Jace before his eyes. His nephew was breathing heavily, looking at him with wide eyes.

"I fly with you."

He snorted at his words, dropping his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

Gods, give me fucking patience, he thought.

"Don't make me laugh. Take your whore back where you came from, and get out of my sight." He growled, his wife lowered her gaze in horror and embarrassment. Her brother clamped his mouth shut at his words, furious.

"He wanted to kill my sister."

"Then stay with her and protect her as befits a man."

"I'm not going to stay here while you fight!" Jace exclaimed.

"So this is as always about your pride? Hm?" He hissed, dimly recalling the day he, Aegon and Luke had brought him a pig, finding it amusing that they could humiliate him so easily.

It was always about making him feel better at someone else's expense.

He walked towards him, towering over him, wanting to show him who was the rider of the greatest dragon in the world, who had the last word.

"You are our guest, nephew, and you are straining my patience. I tolerate you only for the sake of my wife and my child in her womb."

"My aunt saw a sea of blood in her dream. She thinks something is going to happen there. I want to take revenge on the man who tried to poison my little sister and her child. I ask you, uncle, to let me fly with you."

He looked at him for a moment, hesitating.

The witch's words made him feel uneasy and he didn't know what he thought about it himself.

"Aemond. Please." His wife mumbled, looking at him pleadingly, her fingers clenched on her stomach.

He licked his lips impatiently, sighed heavily and nodded.

The guard who had informed them of Lord Strong's location had shown his troop on the map where the fortress was, so he ordered his nephew to simply fly after him.

Soaring into the skies on the mighty Vhagar, he felt shivers, cold and discomfort running along his spine, some premonition and anxiety from which he was all tense and vigilant.

My aunt saw a sea of blood in her dream.

On the dragon's back they would have reached their destination faster than his soldiers, so they simply circled above them, adjusting their flight speed to maintain the effect of surprise.

After many minutes, he spotted a small, abandoned fortress, or rather its ruins, in the distance and pressed his lips together at the thought that fire couldn't do anything here – the stronghold was made of stone and they, according to his wife's words, were probably hiding underground.

They wasted no time and landed, heading inside immediately with they troop and torches – he ordered his soldiers to search thoroughly all the rooms of the fortress, himself with his nephew and his commanders descending into the underground, feeling the cold sweat on his back.

There were no signs of anyone's presence, the keep looked like it had been abandoned for years.

Something was wrong, he could feel it, and after a moment he heard the voice of one of the men behind him.

"Long live King Aegon!"

He only had time to turn around when he heard the sound of blades being drawn, one of the commanders swinging a dagger, intent on slitting his shocked nephew's throat. Jace lowered his torch, terrified, taking a few steps back.

"NO!" He shouted, furious, sliding his sword out, wanting to step in front of him and shield him, however, the other soldier stepped in his way.

"Do not protect this traitor, my Prince."

Without thinking about what he was actually doing, with one sweeping swish of his sword he decapitated the man, whose head fell with a loud thud to the ground. Not looking at his inert body, he rushed to the aid of his nephew, who drew his sword and tried to defend himself, pale and trembling with fear.

"UNCLE!" He called out in despair like a small child, trying to push one of his opponents away – there was something in his expression, in his dark eyebrows arched in terror and fear, in his bright eyes that reminded him of her.

He thought they resembled each other when he pushed him away and felt someone's dagger thrust into his back – he drew in a loud breath as he looked at his face full of disbelief, thinking he should have listened to her.

"NO!" He heard Jace shout, throwing himself towards him as he fell to his knees, his soldiers moved away, horrified, looking at him in disbelief.

"Gods, what have you done?" Shouted one of them, the other began to run away, followed by the others, throwing their torches to the ground, clearly afraid of what would befall them for what had happened.

The stab of that blade was not meant for him.

He clutched at his wound and hissed, feeling immense, burning pain, his warm blood beginning to run down his back. He heard the neighing of horses in the distance and then someone's screams as his nephew knelt beside him, trying to lift him up.

"– fuck – fuck,fuck,fuck,FUCK! –" Cursed Jace on the verge of crying, clamping his hand over his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

He thought, breathing heavily, terrified and shocked that he would die here, abandon her even though he had promised himself he would never leave her again.

"– I want to see her face one more time –" He muttered in a trembling voice, afraid of what could come, afraid of death, afraid of what his family would do with her when he was gone.

If they believe it was Jace who killed him, that this was all a trap set for his life.

"– you'll, uncle – come on – just don't fall asleep –" Jace gasped, throwing his arm over his neck in an attempt to rise with him. He shuddered and drew in a breath as a stocky, bearded man rushed in, panting heavily, his palms in blood.

He looked at them with wide eyes as if he had seen a ghost, holding a torch in his hand.

"Good gods." He muttered.

He couldn't remember much of what happened next – he felt the man helping Jace lead him outside, all around him the screams of men being butchered like animals on the orders of the man who had come to their aid.

He felt it was getting harder and harder for him to keep his eyes open, his head was humming, warm blood running down his leg.

"– just a little more – don't fall asleep, uncle – don't fall asleep –" He heard Jace's voice as if in the distance.

He closed his eyelid, praying to the gods to protect his wife if they decided his time had come, to let her give birth to his child without pain, to let her see Essos as he had promised her.

He hissed loudly as someone picked him up and then began to pull him onto something rough – he felt someone slide him into the saddle, and then someone's figure sat behind him before rising into the sky a moment later, the crisp, chilly night breeze cooling his hot face.

"– don't fall asleep, uncle – hold on –" He heard his nephew's pleading voice and hummed sleepily under his breath, remembering her face.

When he closed his eyes, he saw her standing in front of him, terrified and flooded with tears then, when he lost his eye.

He felt a similar pain, though not in his face, and had trouble concentrating, her words seeming to him to be mere mumbles coming from afar.

"– I'm with you – you won't die – you won't die –"

He shuddered and opened his eyes, a loud hiss came from his throat as he felt a stinging, deep pain in his back. The sound he made woke up the person who was apparently lying next to him – she had risen, but in the darkness of the chamber he could not see her face, however, he immediately recognised her scent.

Vanilla.

"– Rhaenys –" He muttered, trying to lift his hand towards her, but he was unable to and it fell numbly to the bedding.

"– I am here, my beloved –" He heard her whisper beside him, her gentle, soft hand touching his hot cheek.

He sighed quietly, feeling a squeeze in his heart and throat at the thought that she was not disgusted by him, that she still loved him despite the fact that he would forever be crippled.

"– I knew you would come –" He said quietly, seeing her silhouette leaning over him as if through a mist, her puffy, moist lips placed a kiss on his forehead.

"– do you still want to marry me? –" He asked with difficulty, breathing hard, feeling that through the fever his eye were closing again, but he needed to hear it.

He needed to be sure that the great scar he would have on his face from now on and the absence of his eye did not cross him out as her future lover and husband.

Her figure froze, her thumb stroking his jaw.

"– uncle – we are married – I'm expecting your child –" She whispered in a trembling voice, gently grasping his wrist, guiding his hand to her slightly rounded lower abdomen.

He swallowed hard, furrowing his brow, and then looked at her, suddenly understanding, feeling tears burning under his eyelids, involuntarily smiling.

"– I have married you –"

"– yes, my love – I am your wife and you are my husband –" She said softly, leaning towards him, her sweet, moist lips pressed against his in a warm, tender kiss, from which his heart thumped harder in his chest.

"– you promised me that you would take me to Essos – you can't leave me now –" She mumbled out in a breaking voice, nuzzling her forehead against his, her gentle hands stroking tenderly his heated, sweaty cheek.

"– never, my sweetest – never –"

He whispered, feeling calm, and after a moment a quiet, warm darkness enveloped him.

When he woke up again, he was blinded by the brightness; he hissed and raised his hand, trying to cover his face. He heard someone get up from a chair and walk over to the bed, sitting down next to him on the sheets.

"– Aemond –" He heard his mother's voice and blinked, running his hand over his face, wondering if it was a dream. Her familiar fingers caught his wrist, squeezing it tightly, as if she needed to make sure he was really awake.

"– my son –" She muttered in a trembling voice. He lowered his hand and saw her face, pale and swollen from the tears she had clearly had to shed over his bed for days.

He could not remember what had happened and why he felt such a terrible pain in his back.

"– where am I? –" He choked out, sighing heavily, tilting his head back, feeling like his skull was about to burst.

"– in Harrenhal – you had a fever for days and were delirious –" She explained, taking his hand in hers, stroking it affectionately. "– I arrived as soon as I found out – Daemon is here too –"

He swallowed hard, memory after memory regaining his awareness of what had happened, Jace's terrified face and the blade stuck in his back.

Don't fall asleep, uncle.

He looked at her in horror, looking around.

"– where is Rhaenys? –" He asked, tense and concerned that she was not by his side, that perhaps someone was trying to hurt her while he lay in bed, unaware of anything. His mother furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"– who? –" She asked, as if she didn't understand what he meant.

He felt a cold sweat on his back at the thought that her silhouette lying by his side was merely a figment of his fever-ignited imagination.

"– my niece –" He muttered. His mother nodded, and it was only then that he realised that no one but him had called her by that name.

"– she sleeps – she stayed by your side for days and nights, but we feared it would harm both her and the baby – her brother persuaded her to rest –" She explained, stroking his hand with hers.

He closed his eyelid, feeling incredibly, wonderfully relieved at her words.

"What happened?"

His mother pressed her lips together, lowering her head.

"Your wife sent a letter to your brother-king. It appeared that Lord Strong, in consultation with your grandfather, wished to deprive Rheanyra of her two children and her dragons in one fell swoop. While Jace was to be murdered away from the fortress, your niece was to be abducted so that your grandfather could pact with you for you to join the war, but with the help of Alys Rivers she hid in her chamber."

He stared at her with wide-open eye, feeling a squeeze in his throat and discomfort in his stomach, a cold sweat running down his back.

Your niece was about to be abducted so that your grandfather could pact with you for you to join the war.

"They wanted Daemon and Rhaenyra to believe that it was you who betrayed them. That you had such a plan all along, to take revenge on her for your eye."

She whispered, looking at him with a sad, tired look.

Only after a moment did he realise that his mother's gown was black.

"Your brother-king sentenced my father to death."

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onskepa · 4 months ago

Text

Stxeli: The stranger

Hellooooooooooo everyone! this is a new chapter to the stxeli series! Hope you all enjoy~!!

Stxeli series

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As growing up, stxeli was told to watch out for “fakers” or “dream walkers” as her clan would call them. Demons walking through the forest, using ugly and fake skins that are supposed to look like na’vi. That they are not to be trusted, they carry metal weapons that can tear the flesh apart and are unable to mend wounds.

That was how her bigger sister was killed.

The fake na’vi would not hesitate to take a life, and do not care for nature, the wild life. Do not care for Eywa. Such a disrespect!

Stxeli has never seen one before and already she hates them. Her family never lets her wander far into the forest, in fear she would cross paths with them. Stxeli didn't had to.

A dream walker walked right into the territory.

Hearing chants, warning hisses, loud noises, it was hard for stxeli to ignore. Up at her little nook in the home tree, she can see many warriors dragging something in the middle of the gathering. Neytiri and Tsu'tey were there as well. Seems they brought something along. A na’vi wearing the strangest clothes she has ever seen.

Whatever was going on, stxeli climbed down to see.

As she does, getting closer to the ground, seeing the na’vi that seemed to be the center of attention. Stxeli gasped loudly.

IT WAS UGLY!

Mo’at heard a loud gasp and turned to see her younger daughter who was staring at the dreamwalker. Quickly she walks over, “ma’ite, what are you doing here? Go to your nook” she says while gently pushing stxeli to go back up.

But stxeli, inheriting her sister’s and fathers stubbornness, wanted to see.

“Please sa’nu? I promise I won't cause trouble” stxeli asks while making a cute pouty face. Sighing in defeat, mo’at gives in. She really cannot deny her cute baby.

Eytukan sees his youngest daughter and gestures to her to stand behind tsu’tey to which stxeli does. Holding his hand, stxeli stands behind him to blend in with the others.

Taking a closer look at the dream walker, he was the most hideous thing she has ever seen in her entire life. His eyes are small, his nose is too wide, why does he have hair on top of his eyes? How can he braid them? His freckles are a messy pattern and she can tell he REEKS of sweat.

Do dream walkers not clean themselves?

How disgusting. And ugly. Her family was right, the dream walkers are demons in fake skin.

Jake walks towards what clearly seems to be the leaders of the na’vi. An elder na’vi walks closer to greet the young female who saved his life. Greeting him in her language. The elder walks closer to him, giving a look of disgust.

Jake can only smile and nod as his form of greeting.

He speaks to the young female, raising his voice to prove a point, then speaks softly. Saying something that made the na’vi chuckle in humor.

“What is he saying?” Jake finally asks, not liking the situation he is in.

“My father is deciding whether to kill you” the female na’vi responds nonchalantly.

Jake blinked a few times, muttering the word ‘father’ under his breath. Without even thinking, he moves forward, extending his hand to greet the elder na’vi. “Nice to meet you sir” he says with a grin. The na’vi were quick to surround him, preventing from getting any closer to the elder. The female pushed him back.

A booming voice was hard, another elder na’vi came forth. The crowd cleared a path for another female na’vi. Her head piece and clothing gives off that she too is a leader. Someone of higher position.

“That is mother, she is tsahik. The one who interprets the will of Eywa” the female tells jake.

“Who is Eywa?” he asks, genuinely curious.

Can this demon be any more skxawng? What an utter embarrassment. And in front of the whole clan he asks that!

“Does he even have a brain in that weird head of his?” stxeli whispers to tsu’tey. The warrior lightly chuckles as he gently pats her head. Listening well to what is going on.

“Perhaps not,” he whispers back.

Stxeli gives an unimpressed hum.

She continues to watch as her mother interrogates the demon, asking his name and reason to be here. To their home.

“To learn” the dream walker says.

Many scoff at that, little stxeli was no different.

As her mother and the dream walker continue to talk, asking what he is, a warrior the alien replies. A warrior from a clan with an equally stupid sounding name.

This however triggers tsu’tey, gently he pushes stxeli back, telling mo’at that the alien warrior must be killed.

Quickly stxeli huddles over to her father who was quick to hide her from behind. Using his words of not killing the demon, that they can learn from him instead. Many seemed to agree, but little stxeli was curious on why her father would let the demon live.

If anything, she agrees with tsu’tey in killing the alien, he would cause nothing but trouble.

Her mother walks over to her elder sister, telling her she will teach this jake suli. Teach him their ways and speaking. Something neytiri clearly does not enjoy.

Stxeli couldn't help but giggle.

To be fair, tstumke did bring this upon herself.

Jake heard a childish giggle among the crowd, but before his eyes could wonder where it came from, mo’at came towards him once more.

“It is decided, my daughter will teach you our ways. Learn well, Jake Suli. Then we will see if your insanity can be cured” the tsahik says as her eyes pierces deep into his soul. Unable to look anywhere else, Jake looks down instead, nodding in agreement.

The crowd disbands as mo’at’s daughter takes him further up the tree but not before passing by her father.

It was a quick look, very quick. Perhaps he was exhausted from all the running, maybe the adrenaline is still there. Or maybe he really is losing his mind, but Jake could have sworn for a quick moment.

A little human girl was right behind the leader.

“Sa’nu, what makes you think that ugly alien will learn our ways?” stxeli says as she is happily snuggles between her parents while enjoying the communal dinner.

Mo’at lets out a small chuckle, gently patting her baby’s head.

“Eywa wills it” was all she said.

Stxeli nodded and didn't ask further. If Eywa wills it, then it shall be.

“Here they come,” tsu’tey says, looking over at neytiri and jake coming closer.

How jake was walking, accidentally stepping on many tails looked very funny to stxeli. She couldn't help but let out a fit of giggles.

The demon may be ugly but at least he was humorous.

Again Jake heard that giggle, and was a bit louder this time. And again he couldn't pinpoint where it was.

Neytiri greets her family and sits down, Jake following her moves as he too sits down beside her.

Looking at the very interesting choice of food, he takes tiny bites. The taste wasn't so bad, especially the teylu.

Neytiri was speaking in na’vi to tsu’tey, handing him something from her little bag. Jake looks at her actions. It was a fruit that Jake remembers eating back at the base. He forgot the name but he knew it started with the letter Y.

“Yovo!” a little voice was heard.

Looking over at the clan leaders, two small arms reached out. But there were no blue na’vi arms. No, they were the arms of a human. Flesh of a human with 5 fingers on each side. Reaching out for the fruit in excitement.

Tsu’tey chuckles and hands it to the child. Jake leaned a bit to get a good look at the human child. Confusion clearly filled his mind. Just what is going on?

Neytiri turned to look at him, her smile faded quickly before shoving his face to look down. Releasing a hiss, she whispers into his ear, “look at her and I promise you it will be the last thing you will see with those pathetic eyes of yours”

Not wanting to cross the line, Jake nods and keeps his eyes down, but his ears would twitch to hear the child’s voice. He wasn't hallucinating earlier, there really is a human child among the na’vi.

“Do not be so rough with him ma’ite” mo’at lightly scolds.

Neytiri just rolls her eyes and continues to eat.

“With respect tsahik, why should the alien look at stxeli? He could relay what he saw back to the other demons” teu’tey says as he peels the fruit for the little one. Neytiri looks back at her family, silently agreeing to what he says.

“I can eat in my nook from now on” stxeli offers.

“No, you eat with us as always” eytukan tells as he pulls her onto his lap. Tsu’tey hands back the fruit to his daughter as she happily munches away.

“He will see her at some point if not now” mo’at whispers to her husband. Eytukan shakes his head, “he will work hard to gain trust”.

With that being said, they all continue to eat their meal as comfortably as they can.

“You are not sleeping with us tstumke?”

Neytiri inwardly cried, she really wanted to. Stxeli was grabbing both of Neytiri's hands trying to drag her to their family’s hammock, her cute eyes staring deep into her sister's eyes. Stxeli’s cuteness really is a weakness that cannot be overcomed.

“Sleep with us, come on” she continues to beg.

Neytiri hugged her sister, and placed a kiss on her button nose. “I wish, but this time I must sleep alone, I have to rise very early to begin teaching the dream walker”

“Wayah!” stxeli hisses in anger. Neytiri wanted to laugh, so cute yet so angry.

“Stay with our parents or with tsu’tey alright? Don't get near the dream walker” she softly warns.

“As if I want to be near that ugly alien,” her baby sister says.

“He really is ugly, isn't he?”

“He has hair on top of his eyes! That is weird!”

“Easy easy” grace helps Jake to sit up as he groans from being still after long hours of laying down. She sighs in huge relief.

“Is the avatar safe?” she asks, jake said yes, was panting heavily as if he ran non stop.

“But grace, you are not gonna believe where I am and what I saw”

That is it for this chapter! Hope you all like it! Until next time! see ya!

Liking the series? Click the taglist to put your name for the next chapter!

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Taglist:

@alastorhazbin @spookymomfriendtm @moonchildxoxx @thehoneymushroomhealer @kat-the-kit @galactict3a @my-skeleton-hats @hoodiepandaninja16 @sugurupookie @vivangothic @thepotatoislost @ceylon-morphe286 @victoria2054 @tulipatheticee @iwannabeapinkaesthetic @skittlebum @iaoisiwqk @ikeyniofthetayrangi @xx-kaitlyn-trixx-xx @that-of-stars-and-flowers @baybaybear1

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wholoveseggs · 6 months ago

Note

Hi there!! I been reading your works and I love your writing. This my first request ever.

I had this idea, and I was thinking about a gothic vampire reader with the personality and the looks of Morticia Addams, and the love for the macabre. And Elijah catches her attention and she catches his attention. Of course, they meet at a gala, a opera etc. And for weeks, they have been getting to know each other. Until one day, he comes over to her house, they are having a good time then the visit turns steamy and smutty, it is passionate and feral. And maybe with blood sharing between the two.

But of course, if you don’t want to then you don’t have to and you can ignore this.

Decadence

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

Elijah meets an intriguing woman at the opera, leading to an evening of music, wine and vampiric indulgences.

♡♡ Thanks for the request @thealienartist!! Absolutely obsessed with this idea, I LOVE gothic romance & horror!!! This was an absolute dream to write. Can Elijah please be the Gomez to my Morticia heart? ♡♡

5.9k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, blood drinking, I was self-projecting hard with this one... {I just want to be her}, black cats, chocolate cake, vintage wine, a love letter, Victorian gothic everything... I listened to Totentanz on repeat while writing this... {its a vibe}

Elijah had always enjoyed the arts, whether that be in music or literature or even painting and live performances. He found that the arts were one of the only things that made him feel truly alive. Even with his undead heart beating within his chest.

Around the turn of the century, Elijah discovered his love for horror. It amused him to see how humans depicted the supernatural, their interpretations of his kind were rather off. Vampires living in run down castles, with no regard for the world around them, their main purpose to drain the blood of the innocent. It was almost laughable, though some of his kind did enjoy that lifestyle.

It was during this time that he fell in love with opera, something his siblings didn't exactly agree with. Rebekah found it to be dull, Klaus found it to be pretentious and Kol didn't care either way.

They just didn't get it, the music, the drama, the costumes, had him completely enraptured.

So, when he heard that La bohème was being performed, he immediately made plans to go. He had seen it many times, but never got tired of the performance. He just wished that he could have somebody to go with, but none of his family wanted to attend.

He put on his favorite four piece suit, combed his hair, grabbed his black trench coat and made his way to the opera house.

As the lights dimmed and the stage lit up, Elijah couldn't help but feel a little sad, wishing he had someone to share this interest with, but he was content watching alone.

He watched as the curtains parted and the actors began their first scene, he immediately fell into a trance as he took in the performance.

Intermission was announced and he went outside for some fresh air, he was surprised to see a woman, who looked like she was plucked straight out of the past, standing on the balcony.

She was smoking a cigarette, the long stick held elegantly in her fingers. Her nails were red talons and her dark hair cascaded down her back, stopping at her hips. She was dressed in a all black Victorian style dress, which complimented her pale skin, making it look almost ghostly.

She tilted her head at him in acknowledgement, then went back to staring out into the night.

Elijah usually wasn't the one to approach women, he preferred for them to make the first move. But something about this one intrigued him, he was curious about her.

He stepped onto the balcony and approached her slowly. Watching the wisps of smoke rise into the air.

She looked up at him and smiled.

"Elijah Mikaelson, I presume?" Her voice was deep, but still feminine, her eyes darker than his own. She was strikingly beautiful, there was no doubt about that.

"You know who I am?" Elijah raised his eyebrows.

She chuckled, gracefully flicking her cigarette butt away.

"Who doesn't? The infamous Mikaelson's, who rule the streets of New Orleans with blood and fear... I'm a big fan," she said.

He smiled and shook his head, "We do not rule the city, we simply protect it from our enemies."

She hummed, a smirk gracing her ruby red lips.

"You do have a reputation," she replied.

Elijah nodded and stepped forward.

"What is your name, darling?"

She chuckled and leaned against the railing, gazing up at him with a smirk. "Y/n," she said, extending her hand out to him.

He grasped her hand gently, his lips brushing against her knuckles, her eyes sparkled as she watched his lips.

"Hmm, they don't make them like you anymore," she mused, her eyes traveling up and down his body. "You are so very old-fashioned," she added with a sly smile.

"Well I am quite old," he jested, matching her smile.

They stood and stared at each other for a moment before Elijah broke the silence. "What do you think of this performance?" He asked, gesturing towards the theater.

She shrugged, "I've seen worse, I've seen better," she replied.

Elijah found himself smirking at her response, not really knowing why. Maybe because he had found himself feeling the same.

"May I ask what brings you here?" He wondered why she was attending an opera alone.

"I was bored, looking for someone to eat," she stated. Her eyes roaming over his body once more.

Elijah let out a chuckle and ran a hand through his hair. There was only a handful of times in his long life that a woman actually made him nervous, this being one of those times.

She reached forward and placed her hand on his chest, leaning closer towards him, her lips ghosting against his ear, her scent surrounded him, it was intoxicating and Elijah found himself leaning into her.

"I'll see you around Mr. Mikaelson," she whispered and gently pulled away from him, giving him a wink before going back inside. Elijah watched her go, letting out a sigh as he shook his head, not being able to wipe the smile off of his face.

You considered yourself a solitary creature. Even in your human life, you tended to keep people at a distance. You felt misunderstood, even a bit judged by your peers, you didn't really like being around people.

After you were turned, things hadn't really changed that much, you still found it difficult to connect with others, but now you were mostly untethered and unburdened by society's rules.

The freedom of being a vampire was nice, to be able to go and do whatever you pleased, whenever you pleased and live however you saw fit.

You spent most of your years traveling, seeking out new places, experiencing new cultures and meeting people along the way. And with all this knowledge you learned exactly who you are and what you like.

New Orleans was one of your favorite places, full of vibrancy and life. It was an aesthetic heaven for you, a place that celebrated death, promoted the macabre, had strong connections to magic. Not to mention their appreciation for the arts.

For the last few decades, you had taken up residence in an old Victorian home. You compelled the local historical society to allow you to paint the exterior completely black. Planted dark red roses along the windows and hung little chandeliers made of animal bones along the porch.

You had spent quite a bit of time decorating the interior, making it a space that you could feel truly comfortable in. Something that made your home feel like it truly reflected your personality.

The house fit you perfectly; outside looking like something from a B-horror film, but the interior was homely and feminine, decorated with macabre pieces, gothic furniture, tapestries adorned the walls and candles were scattered everywhere.

You never really acclimated to modern society, you were turned in the 1800s and preferred to live according to the time. You liked old things, dark antiques, things that held a certain kind of energy within them.

So when you met Elijah Mikaelson at the opera house, you knew you had to add him to your collection.

You had heard about the Mikaelson family for a long time, whispers of them among the vampires. You had become intrigued, they were the oldest of your kind, the knowledge they possessed fascinated you.

You couldn't help the smirk that had stretched across your lips when you finally came face to face with Elijah, he was exactly how you imagined him. Tall, dark and handsome, dressed to perfection, emanating wealth and power. Finding him at the opera added to your attraction, knowing that his interests matched your own made it all that more charming.

Elijah Mikaelson was the fine wine of men and you wanted to bathe yourself in it. Wanted to drink up every drop of it, savoring the taste of it on your lips.

You sat in your living room, your cat on your lap, purring contently as you ran your fingers through his fur. You were dressed in a large silk robe, your hair tied up in a bun, dark wine colored lipstick on your lips. A mug filled with blood sat on the table beside you.

You were writing out a letter to him, with ink and parchment, your favorite fountain pen adding a certain flourish to your lettering. Your cat jumped off of your lap and you grabbed an envelope to place the letter inside. You folded the parchment and stuck it in the envelope, sealing it with wax and writing Elijah's name onto the paper.

You hoped he would like the gesture, you knew he was an old fashioned man, so sending him a letter with a gift was bound to catch his attention. It had been a long, long time since you felt nervous, and it had been at least a hundred years since you had a crush like this.

You grabbed the parcel with his gift in it and walked over to your front door, slipping on your heels, you headed out of the house and down your side walk, plucking a rose along the way.

The postman was close to leaving, just as you approached his mail van.

"Hello," you greeted, and watched as he turned and jumped, clearly startled by your sudden appearance.

"Jesus lady, I didn't hear you coming," he stammered, looking you up and down, a nervous smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, I just wanted to catch you before you left."

He shook his head and smiled, waving away your concern.

"I have a parcel for you to deliver," you said.

He nodded and held out his hand for the letter.

"What's the address?" He asked, staring down at the envelope, taking note of your fine penmanship.

"The Abattoir, in the French Quarter. For Elijah Mikaelson," you told him, running your fingertips along the thorns of your rose.

The postman nodded his head and placed the letter in his van.

"Have a nice day," he said as he walked away.

You watched him climb into his vehicle and drive away, a smirk playing on your lips, hoping your letter would get the attention you desired.

Elijah was spending the day lazing about, enjoying a rare day of peace and quiet, catching up on his reading. He wasn't expecting any visitors, but a knock sounded at the front door, which was a highly unusual occurrence.

He wandered downstairs, a nervous looking postman was waiting at the gate, looking around the old compound with fascination and hesitation.

"Elijah Mikaelson?" He asked timidly.

"Yes?" Elijah looked at him in bewilderment, it had been a long time since he had received anything in the mail, it wasn't like he had a registered address.

"This is for you," he said, handing him the envelope and a small package, wrapped in crimson coloured paper and tied with a black ribbon.

Elijah thanked him and made his way back into his home, he wondered who could have sent him a letter, the handwriting was immaculate, a skill that wasn't common in today's world.

He realized who it was from instantly when he saw the initials, y/n. A smile graced his lips, feeling like a giddy schoolboy instead of a thousand year old vampire.

He quickly undid the black ribbon and opened the paper, revealing a beautiful piece of art, depicting a flying demon eating a young woman's heart. The detail was incredibly fine, and he realized after a quick sniff, that the red of the painting was not paint. It was blood.

A thought crossed his mind, he wondered if it was a piece of your art, he found your work to be truly frightening, beautiful and enchanting, reminding him of the piece Nighthawks, though darker and macabre.

Opening the letter, he read it carefully,

Dearest Mr. Mikaelson, I hope this letter finds you well, if not please pardon my forwardness. I never understood the flirting etiquette of the modern woman. I find myself longing for the company of a man with your refined tastes, such a delicate palette. I was intrigued from the moment we met, our meeting felt fortuitous. I must confess that I have not felt this way in centuries, being in your presence awakened something within me that I wasn't aware still existed. I find myself completely enamored. Perhaps my feelings are returned? If not, then please accept this gift in hopes of extending our friendship. Though I do wish you share in my hopes of something a little more. I will be home tonight, perhaps you would do me the honor of joining me for a drink? Until then I remain Your Admirer, y/n.

Elijah couldn't wipe the smile off his face as he gently folded the parchment and placed it on his desk. He immediately went to check himself in the mirror, fixing his hair, combing it neatly to the side. He found himself anxiously changing his tie, nothing matched what he was wearing, but he wanted everything to be perfect.

He found a pair of ruby cufflinks, feeling that they complimented the letter and would perhaps set the mood.

Grabbing his black wool jacket and adjusting his tie, he made his way outside before stopping and running back inside, he couldn't possibly come empty handed and he knew just the thing to bring you.

You waited nervously inside your house, you had decided to wear a simple black slip dress, your hair flowing over your shoulders in waves, your black winged eyeliner perfectly defining your eyes.

You needed a way to quell your anxiety, so you decided to play a tune on your organ, something to fill the silence, create a soundtrack to go along with the nerves that bounced around inside your mind and heart.

If he didn't show, you would understand. It had been quite a while since you've expressed your affections to anyone. It had been a lifetime since you were courted.

Your fingers idly drifted over the ivory keys, producing a somber yet melodic tune. Your nails were filed into sharp talons, painted a deep crimson, matching the lipstick on your lips.

The melody flowed through the house, the tune reverberating against the walls, seeping through the floorboards. Your cat jumped up and settled in your lap, the soft vibrations from the organ lulling him into a purring trance.

A soft knock broke the melody and you felt your heart stutter. Placing your cat on the seat you walked over to your door. Taking a steadying breath, you grabbed the handle and opened the door.

Men usually didn't have you so utterly flustered, but with Elijah, it seemed like even your centuries old blood could grow warm.

"Good evening, I received your letter and gift, thank you."

He greeted you with a genuine smile, an excited glint in his eyes. You let your eyes wander over him, taking in his appearance, he was dressed to perfection, like always, obviously following along with your old fashioned aesthetic. You liked that you didn't have to ask him, he just got it.

"Please, come in," you stepped to the side to make room for him, you shut the door as he walked inside.

"Quite a lovely home you have here," he said, admiring the interior of the house.

You took his coat and led him into the sitting room, pointing to one of the antique sofas.

"Please, take a seat."

He sat and placed the bottle of wine he had brought on the table.

You took the bottle and marveled at the label, your interest peaked, feeling slightly taken back, it was one of the rarest reds, bottles of this were difficult to come by, most of them now lying at the bottom of the sea.

You knew it was not a simple gesture, this was the kind of thing you save for very special occasions. Knowing that he considered this date that special made your stomach flutter.

"Now how did you manage to get your hands on this?" You asked, placing the bottle beside the two glasses you had set out earlier.

"My brother was the culprit behind a number of shipwrecks, during the golden era of piracy," Elijah responded, a smirk gracing his lips.

You chuckled as you grabbed the corkscrew. "That is no surprise," you replied as you popped the cork out.

You grabbed the glasses and walked over to him, passing him one of the glasses before sitting across from him.

You both raised your glasses and clinked them together, taking a drink, closing your eyes and savoring the taste.

"I heard you playing as I approached the house, you have a lovely talent," Elijah said.

You smiled and nodded your head, looking down at your wine.

"That was very sweet of you to say," you looked up at him through your lashes, admiring his handsome features.

You took another sip and watched him over the rim of your glass, his eyes watching you as well.

"What were you playing? Totentanz?" He asked.

"Indeed, it’s one of my favorites," you said, tilting your glass in his direction, "and it felt appropriate," you jested.

A beautiful smile stretched across Elijah's face as he let out a chuckle. His smile made your lips curl up, mirroring his expression.

"So tell me," he began, "What made you decide to come to New Orleans?"

You shrugged and crossed your legs, the sliver of skin left exposed as the fabric cascaded over your thighs, capturing his attention.

"I love it here, the culture, the art, blood tastes sweeter here," you said, letting a sly smile grace your face. "I like the way this city weaves death and beauty," you paused and took a sip, "it just feels like home to me."

Elijah nodded his head in understanding, he appreciated what you had said. "Yes, there is a certain allure about this city,"

"Your family helped build it back in the 1800s, no?" You asked, running your finger along the lip of your glass.

He nodded, "yes we did, from swamps and brothels to one of the wealthiest cities."

You chuckled and shook your head, "yet the swamps and brothels remain," you mused.

"But not nearly as much," he joked.

You both sat and talked for hours, getting to know each other, laughing and drinking. Elijah was surprised to find that you didn't mind listening to him talk about his travels and life, in fact you hung onto his every word. To him, you were utterly enchanting, the way your eyes lit up as you talked, your laugh, the way you looked at him.

At one point he got up and sat closer to you, his hand gently grazing your thigh, leaning in close as you spoke, his eyes locked on yours. Your lips parted and you felt his breath ghosting across your mouth, his eyes flicking down to your lips. He was such a gentleman, waiting for you to initiate the kiss, but you wanted to do one last thing before you tasted his lips.

"I made something for us, if you would like to try it," you whispered.

He leaned back and tilted his head, his eyes curious.

You smirked and placed your wine glass down, slowly standing up.

"Follow me," you told him.

Elijah trailed after you into your dining room, a large wooden table in the center of the room, filled with silver platters and a centerpiece of black and white roses.

You had made a decadent chocolate cake using human blood, the dark rich blood mixing with the cocoa, making a sinfully dark and delicious dessert.

You pulled out a chair for him and motioned for him to sit.

"This looks delicious, did you make this?" Elijah asked.

You nodded and cut a slice for him, placing it on a plate.

"Yes, I made it from scratch," you said, a small smirk playing on your lips. "Gathered all the ingredients from local suppliers."

Elijah hummed, taking his first bite, his eyes widened and he let out a soft groan.

"This is divine," he exclaimed, the veins around his eyes darkening.

You sat and watched him eat the entire slice, his eyes were blown out, the bloodlust apparent in his expression. You bit your lip, trying to hold in your excitement.

You pushed your plate towards him, a wicked grin on your lips. "Would you like another slice?"

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, the bloodlust making him look feral, his eyes completely black.

"I would prefer to taste something else," he said.

Your lips curled into a smile as he stood, pushing his chair back and pulling you out of yours.

His arms snaked around your waist, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair, pulling you flush against him. You ran your hand up his chest and wrapped it around his neck, your lips meeting his.

He tasted like red wine, chocolate and just a hint of blood, his mouth soft and pliant, his tongue brushing against your lips. You nipped at his bottom lip and he growled, pushing his hips against yours, walking you backwards, pinning you against the wall.

"Where did you come from?" He marveled, his hands grabbing your ass.

You laughed and ran your hand through his hair, giving it a light tug.

"Does it matter?" You whispered, pressing your lips against his again, kissing him hungrily.

"You've been in my city for so long, yet I only just met you, how very unfortunate," his voice was gruff as he spoke, his hips rolling against yours.

"I guess we will have to make up for lost time," you said, your voice dripping with lust.

Elijah picked you up and flashed up the stairs, his hands cupping your ass, his lips attached to your neck. He walked you into the bedroom, tossing you on the bed.

You laid there, propped up on your elbows, staring up at him, a teasing smirk on your lips, your dark hair fanning out on the pillow.

He looked at you in awe, your red lips were swollen from his kiss and the hem of your slip had risen up your thighs. He climbed onto the bed and crawled towards you, hovering over your body, his mouth finding yours again, his hands running up to the hem of your stockings, his fingers teasing the skin under the material.

You wrapped your legs around his waist and flipped him, straddling his hips. Your hands ran over his chest, undoing the buttons of his shirt, revealing his toned chest.

His hands roamed over your body, slipping the straps of your slip off your shoulders, revealing your black corset, his hands trailing over the boning, the lace covering your breasts, the garters that held up your stockings, and the panties that were already ruined.

"I miss when women would dress this way," he sighed, his eyes drinking in the sight of you, a look of hunger in his eyes.

You chuckled, bending down to nip at his bottom lip, your lips moving along his jaw.

"Happy to keep the tradition alive," you whispered, nuzzling your nose against his neck, your fangs running along the artery, feeling his pulse against the tip of your fangs.

Elijah flipped you over and pressed his body against yours, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing the sides, his thumb tilting your head back. His other hand found the ties inn the front of your corset, slowly undoing the knots, the ribbon sliding through the eyelets, the corset loosening with each pull.

You watched his eyes flicker over your breasts, his fangs extending, his breathing heavy. He looked up and met your gaze, his face shifting, his veins spreading underneath his eyes.

He bent down, his fangs sinking into your chest, your blood filling his mouth, dripping down his chin. Your eyes rolled back as he fed from you, his hand squeezing your breast, his fingers pinching and twisting your nipple.

The pain of his fangs and the pleasure of his hands were overwhelming, you felt drunk, you felt euphoric.

You grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his head back, your mouth colliding with his, tasting yourself on his lips. He groaned into your mouth and rolled his hips against yours, his bulge pressing against your core.

You both frantically began to undress, his pants and belt tossed aside, your dress and corset ripped off, thrown onto the floor. You laid back, wearing nothing but your stockings and panties, his boxer briefs the only piece of clothing left on his body.

He grabbed your hips and pulled you back underneath him, his lips finding yours, his hand running up your leg, hooking his finger into the thin strap of your panties, tearing them off.

"That was entirely ungentlemanly," you said, a teasing glint in your eye.

Elijah smirked, kissing his way down your stomach, stopping at your pelvis, his fangs lightly scraping the skin above your pussy.

"You don't seem to mind," he mused, his hand pushing your thighs open, his lips wrapping around your clit, his tongue flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your hips bucked and your hand grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging it, urging him on. You appreciated his enthusiasm as he indulged in pleasuring you.

His tongue felt deliciously warm against your skin, your eyes shut, your breath ragged. It had been so long since you had a man between your legs, and Elijah was no ordinary lover, his skill level matched his age.

You moaned and writhed beneath him, his thumb pressed against your clit, your wetness covering his chin.

"Fucking hell," you panted, your body starting to tense.

Your hands gripped the bedsheets, your body a ball of pent up tension, with one final stroke of his tongue, your orgasm broke through the last sliver of control.

You shook and gasped as your climax took over, your whole body erupting in pleasure. Elijah lifted his head, watching you, his lips curling into a sly smile.

"That's a sight," he praised, sitting up and wiping his chin with the back of his hand.

You slowly opened your eyes, a blissful smile plastered on your face.

"Indeed it is," you replied, your breathing uneven.

"But you should watch your language, I thought you were a lady," he teased, his eyebrow raised, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards.

You narrowed your eyes and smirked, leaning forward, grabbing his shoulders and rolling him onto his back. Your bodies were slotted together, your faces close to each other.

"When have I ever claimed to be a lady?" You asked, kissing along his jawline, nipping the soft skin at the end of his neck.

Your hands trailed down his body, running over his chest, letting your nails run down his torso, breaking the skin, long bloody tracks appearing.

You kissed your way down his chest, licking the blood up, your fangs scraping against his abdomen. You looked up and caught his hungry gaze, his body tensing under you, his erection straining against the fabric of his boxers.

Smirking, you kissed the fabric that separated you from his cock, your hands reaching up and tugging at the waistband, pulling them down slowly.

Your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, licking the pre-cum. His eyes fluttered shut and he hissed in pleasure, his hands tangling in your hair.

"Mr. Mikaelson," you said as you slowly descended on his cock. "I may look like a lady," you popped off him and kissed the head. "but I fuck like a dirty, filthy whore."

Elijah groaned at your words, the hands in your hair tightening, gripping your strands, guiding you back down, taking in more of him.

You bobbed your head along his shaft, sucking and lapping at the vein along the underside, one of your hands pumping the part you couldn't fit in your mouth, the other gently cupping his balls, squeezing and massaging them.

Elijah slowly began to rock his hips, matching your rhythm, his breathing heavy and rapid, his voice hoarse as he murmured your name.

Pulling his cock out of your mouth, you looked up at him, tilting your head, "yes?" You smirked, blowing air onto the tip.

Elijah pulled you up and kissed you, flipping you over and once again pinning you underneath him. He pulled your thigh up to hook around his waist, gripping your ass, letting his cock rub along your slit. He pulled on the hem of your stocking, letting it snap back against your skin.

"Gorgeous, intoxicating thing," he cooed, slowly sinking into you.

You threw your head back and let out a moan, your leg hiked up to allow him deeper access. He placed one hand under your thigh, holding your leg in place, while the other found your neck, his thumb grazing your windpipe, applying the perfect amount of pressure. The hand under your leg holding you firmly. You knew that a part of him wanted to give into the bloodlust, the animalistic side of him that was desperate to sink his fangs into your neck. His gentleness mixed with his aggressiveness drove you wild.

You felt every inch of his cock as he slowly rolled his hips, pulling out of you almost fully before entering you again. He leaned down and kissed you deeply, his tongue dancing along yours. It was intense and overwhelming, the way he had all your senses tied up in his touch, his mouth, his taste, the sound of his breathing, his movements.

You struggled to hold it together, your pleasure building with each stroke, and he knew, he loved seeing you come undone.

He began to pick up his pace, his hips snapping against yours. It was like the perfect dance, his hips moving so smoothly and perfectly in time with yours, both of you chasing the inevitable crash.

Your eyes met, and everything else seemed to fall away as you lost yourself in his gaze, everything slowing down. He kissed you softly, tenderly, making you melt in his hands.

You brought one hand down to rest on his cheek, holding his face against yours, kissing him back just as tenderly. You ran your index finger along his jaw line, your sharp nail drawing blood, dipping your finger between your lips. He tasted so much better than you imagined, like pure power and divine lust.

Elijah groaned at the sight of your blood stained lips and he sped up, his lips on your neck, his fangs running over your skin.

You tugged on his hair, urging him to bite you, to drink his fill, you wanted nothing more than to give yourself over completely.

His fangs sank into your neck, your blood spilling into his mouth, some of it dripping onto your chest, his teeth slicing into your skin.

The sensation pushed you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, your hands grabbing at his shoulders, a strangled cry of his name leaving your lips.

He didn't stop, just as he was reaching his peak, he sank his teeth in deeper. He growled, his hips losing their rhythm as his climax hit him. You were both a gasping, moaning mess, clinging to one another, your fingers digging into each other's skin.

The two of you collapsed in a sweaty heap, tangled in the sheets, your skin glistening, breathing heavy.

You felt light headed and euphoric. His gaze was piercing and loving, his fingers brushing across your neck, softly wiping the blood off. His mouth gently caressed yours, his hands cupping your face.

He brushed your hair behind your ears, pulling you into his embrace, his fingers tracing your skin. It was hard to believe that you had only known him for a night, it felt like a lifetime.

A long overdue release of tension and you were happy to be the object of his affections. He was by far the most interesting man you had ever met.

You melted into him, his hands wrapping around you, holding you close. Everything felt perfect, the dim lights, the sound of rain in the background, the weight of him beside you.

The slow creak of your bedroom door opening, cut through the stillness of the night. The soft mew of your cat greeted the both of you, followed by the sound of him jumping onto your bed. The comforting feeling of his paws walking along the sheets as he came to investigate the disturbance in his home.

He walked along Elijah's body, bumping his head against Elijah's outstretched hand, purring happily.

"And who might you be?" Elijah asked.

"Erebus," you responded, stroking Erebus' fur. "It means darkness."

Elijah nodded, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk.

"An appropriate name," he mused, watching the black cat turn around on his chest, finding a comfortable spot to settle.

Erebus yawned and curled into a ball, closing his eyes.

You smiled and snuggled in closer to Elijah, your head resting on his shoulder.

"I guess Erebus wants me to stay," He chuckled.

You laughed and reached over him, scratching the cat behind the ears.

"It does seem that way," you teased. "And I have no intention of kicking you out."

Elijah smiled, kissing the top of your head.

"Good," he said. "Because I intend on staying right here."

You looked up at him and smiled, your heart skipping a beat. You had never met anyone who could make you feel so special and desirable.

Elijah's face was gentle, his eyes crinkled, his mouth curled into a smile. He kissed you again, a sweet, chaste kiss, and then he turned his attention back to Erebus, who was now fast asleep on his chest.

"Did you know that Erebus fathered Eros, the god of love and desire?" He asked.

"I did," you chucked, watching your little cats chest rise and fall.

"There is a play house not far from here, they are putting on a performance about it, the play is called Sweet Eros. Would you like to go see it? It's quite twisted, it seems like something you would enjoy."

You nodded and kissed him, a grin on your face.

"Mr. Mikaelson, I think this is the start of something beautiful," you teased, your fingers tracing his collarbone.

"Oh my darling," he said, his lips brushing against yours. "It already is."

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rainezrhapsody · 24 days ago

Text

❝Romance On Ice❞

FIC. Kinich x fem!reader

WORD COUNT. 1.4k

SUMMARY. Your partner who was supposed to compete with you for a pair skating competition ditched you, and now you were struggling to find someone last minute. Suddenly, while you were practicing, your coach surprises you.

AUTHORS NOTE. I put a lot of effort into this one! so enjoy >_<

ps. masterlist for this will be made soon!! Hints of nilou x reader if you like that btw.. or you can interpret it as platonic!!

“For fucks sake, you’re not serious are you?”

“I am–I’m really sorry, (name).”

Which was the thing he said at the end of the conversation you vividly remembered with your former partner when he told you he was backing out of the pair skating competition the two of you were competing in. This decision was very sudden and on a whim, which definitely pissed you off. You were now completely partnerless for this competition that unfortunately required a duo performance to participate.

You informed this to your coach & childhood best friend Nilou, and she was definitely not pleased with the news. She told you it was perhaps best if you dropped out of the competition, which was very unlike her, she would normally encourage you and trust in you, but it felt like she had no hope. You definitely didn't like this, so you tried begging her to find you a new partner–And after days of whining, she finally agreed to try to find you another partner–which was basically almost impossible, as almost every other figure skater in town had already gotten a partner. You could barely remember the conversation within your head, but it definitely went something like this:

“Oh come on Nilou, you gotta help me out here–”

“No.” Nilou said, stopping you from whining any longer.

“Please! You’re my best friend..” You begged, “I’ll do anything, I’ll even spend all my break-days practicing!”

“Awh, come on (name)..” She said, as if she was considering it, “Sometimes you make it impossible for me to say no to you, so I guess I’ll try.” She said, smiling softly. “But no promises.” She quickly said, hoping you wouldn’t get your hopes too high.

You could remember the joy you felt when he said he would at least try as you immediately hugged her, she hugged you back as you guys embraced, it was a heartfelt moment. Nilou knew how important this was to you, and you knew you had to try to win this competition, it had been your dream to win it since you were a young girl. At this point, you would take anyone to be your partner, as long as you could participate then you were happy with it.

On a casual evening, you were practicing doing loops, jumps and spins, it was definitely exhausting but you just kept practicing. You were probably doing it to cool off after your former partner abandoned you. All of a sudden Nilou would suddenly approach you with a huge smile on her face, you could tell he heard good news with him, and honestly it somewhat excited you.

“(name)! I have good news, after a bit of searching I finally found someone who can partner up with you for the competition! And from what I’ve heard, he’s very proficient and talented at what he does.”

“Seriously? That fast? It’s only been a day or two. Maybe I underestimated you..” You said, overthinking a bit, “Well anyways, that’s great news! Thank you so much Nilou, you’re the best.” You said, overjoyed with the news as you celebrated in that small world of yours.

“Of course! Anything for my dear best friend.” She said, acting as if it was no big deal for her.

“Soo.. When do I get to meet this mysterious partner of mine? If I’m gonna have to work with him I need to get to know him first, you know?” You said, your manner of speech teasing with a hint of seriousness.

“I arranged for you two to meet at your favorite coffee shop tomorrow at 2pm, and knowing your schedule you should be good at that time.” Nilou said, the smile on her face soft and gentle.

Of course she knew your schedule, Nilou knew almost everything about you.. From your work schedule to your shoe size. It honestly made you smile knowing how you had such a caring and loving friend by your side. Nilou had always been by your side, even when you both were kids. She was the one who would protect you from bullies during middle-school, and eventually as you grew up and matured you began to do the same.

“You know my schedule like the back of my hand you know?” You joked. “Well anyways, 2pm tomorrow is perfect, it’s during my one hour break so I should be able to go.”

“Perfect! Then I’ll tell him you can make it.” She said happily, she was clearly excited for you, I guess luck was on your side.

At 2:08 pm, you were rushing over to the coffee shop in fear of being late. As you finally entered the shop, you leaned on the doorframe as you tried to catch your breath again. Eventually, you would look around the place that was jam packed with people. Nilou had told you that the reservation was at table 6. As you observed the area, your eyes gazed upon a certain green eyed guy on his phone drinking coffee, it was Kinich, your rival.. And he of-course he was sitting on table 6, just perfect.

You and Kinich had been rivals for many-many years, and now you were partners with him? Well, you did say anyone.. But Kinich? Ever since you were in highschool, you never got along, no matter what it was, whether it was who was in line first, to who would be getting valedictorian. Nilou would always be the one to stop these little quarrels of yours–but thinking back on your highschool years, you were somewhat fond of those years.

You would approach Kinich slowly, before scoffing,

“Why are you here?.”

“I could be asking you the same thing.” He replied, his voice always somewhat irritated you, the thought of having to hear his voice almost everyday annoyed you greatly, but you tried to act calm and friendly towards him, despite everything.

“Soo… Are you my partner?”

“Probably.” He replied, his voice was nonchalant yet it had a hint of irritation.

“I didn’t know you figure skated.” You said, awkwardly trying to make a conversation.

You then sat down on the chair in-front of him before raising your hand to call a waiter. One of the waitresses then approached as she held up her notes waiting for you to order,

“So what will you be ordering?” The waitress asked, her facial expression exhausted.

“I’ll just get a caramel macchiato.”

You replied, before grabbing your phone out and texting Nilou. You were pissed off that she didn’t tell you that Kinich was gonna be your partner, but you didn’t really have much of a choice.

You set down your phone before waiting for your order to arrive. You were somewhat upset that Nilou didn’t tell you your partner was gonna be Kinich, but you knew if she told you you would’ve declined and had no chance to compete.

Kinich noticed that you seemed to be in a bad mood, he wanted to comment on it but he didn’t bother. The silence in the air was awkward, chilling maybe. The two of you would just sit in your respective chairs, awkwardly staring at each other.

Waiting for your order, you would silently fidget your hands. You were trying to avoid eye contact, but you were failing miserably as you glanced at him multiple times, even catching him staring at you a few times. You slowly became distracted by the crowd and large noises surrounding the cafe. It was somewhat peaceful—But of course it was interrupted by the waitress giving you your order.

“One caramel macchiato.” The waitress said, putting down your drink in front of you. She then left in a hurry.

You would take a small sip of the caramel macchiato, before trying to start a conversation in-order to make a bit of progress.

“So.. I—”

“Let’s set our differences aside to win this.” He said, his mannerisms and tone of voice serious. “I want to win this as much as you, which makes us equal.”

“Your point?” You replied, a hint of sarcasm in your voice.

“Let’s try to work together.” He replied, his deep gaze slightly intimidating you.

You’d nod, reaching out your hand for a handshake. She seemed confused at first and quickly shook your hand, I guess this was it. . You were now stuck with him for a month or so, complete hell but this was your biggest dream, and you needed to win this. Anything was worth winning this thing.

End.

#creative writing #au #genshin #fanfic #kinich genshin #kinich #kinich x reader #kinich x y/n #kinich x you #writing #im going insane #enemies to lovers

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