#that i cannot quite explain but i yearn for it

[dumbkiri]

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐗 1

χα∂єη яισяѕση χ ƒ! мαιяι! яєα∂єя

𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭: Sloane mistook Lenin as a hiding spot. Thoirt is allowed to bond with Sloane. [Name] is not the only one to suffer from ptsd. [Name] dreams of Xaden...a lot.

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: Bodhi has a lot to explain to his squad. Imogen is definitely blocking out Glane during those times....

“I love you. I love you so badly that I’ll kill anybody just for you.” 

His lips find themselves on your neck, slowly trailing to your collarbone. 

“I love you.” He declares again and gradually picks up his pace. “I love you so much.” 

And you can feel his love. You can tell he meant every word by how passionate his thrusts came to be. He held you with a yearning and protective hold, not wanting to remove your heat from him. 

……

You open your eyes and blink away the blur of your grogginess. In front of you, it’s not hard to spot the man who sits next to your bed. He has his legs wide open, arms crossed over his chest and head hanging forward as he dozes away in the afternoon light that bleeds through your curtains. 

Brennan sleeps away in a comfortable chair and you don’t have the heart to stir him from his slumber. You wonder if he catches any sleep outside of visiting you. 

Quietly, you rise in your bed and let the sheets fall off your body. You’re not surprised to find yourself clothed. After all, you don’t think Brennan would have let you wake naked again. 

Right. You passed out on him during the flight to Xaden’s home. Naked. Gods, could you be more shameless? Letting another man coddle you while you’re vulnerable? 

You move your eyes back to Brennan and call out his name. Suddenly you’re hungry. Starving. And you have a craving for soup. It’s something that would be relatively easy on your stomach. 

“Brennan.” 

He doesn’t wake the first time you call his name. So you lean over your bed and reach out to him. You balanced yourself with one hand on the arm rest while the other one reached for him. You poked his chest and called out his name again. 

“Brennan.” 

This time he shuffles a bit in his spot then slowly blinks his eyes open. You spot his amber eyes look at you then a smile graces his features, “Finally awake? It’s nice to see you up, Phoenix. Had me worry there for a bit.” 

You give him a smile in return and tell him, “I’m hungry for soup. Is there something I can make-“ 

“No, no,” He uncrosses his arms and stands up from his chair. “I can arrange for someone to make it for you. You need to focus on regulating your temperature.” 

You raise an eyebrow at this and he sighs, “It fluctuates when you sleep. Sometimes you burn up so badly, I have to cool you down with wet rags. Other times, you’re so cold I drown you in blankets.” 

You laugh at his expression which is overly dramatic, nonetheless you take his words seriously. Then you tell him, “Well I feel quite alright right now. Normal, I should say.” You remove the sheet off your body and slide your legs over to the edge of the bed. The nightgown reaches your knees when you stand in front of him. 

“There’s another thing I have to talk to you about.” Brennan states and moves his eyes to the door. A tense silence fills the room and you can tell Brennan doesn’t know how to put his thoughts into real words. So you try for him, “I’m assuming it’s something important. Does it have to do with my resurrection?” 

“Something like that,” He replies and the next sounds that come out of his mouth, warms up your heart. He’s speaking in your language and it’s like music to your ears. The language is so beautiful coming from someone else and maybe it’s because you can see Brennan struggle with it. You can tell he’s trying his best to speak to you and you smile at him, understanding every word he says although broken. 

“There are people who want to use you for your power, but I cannot let them. Part of me wants to send you to Basgaith and another part wants to keep you by my side. Both are dangerous options. If you go back to Basgaith, there’s no telling what the higher ups will do to you. If you stay with me, people will find out about you sooner or later.”

You nod your head and tell him, “I don’t know how to use my power in general, Brennan. No one will use me if I’m a ticking time bomb. And as much as I want to see Lenin, I don’t want to blow up the damn college. There’s so much I experienced at Basgaith, the good, the bad and the ugly. Who knows how I’ll react.” 

“So you’re staying?” Brennan can’t help the smile on his face, it's like he won the lottery for keeping you by his side. 

In response, you roll your eyes at his excitement and say, “You’re the only one who knows the real me. Why would I leave when we can learn so much together. It’s time we figure out what I can do.”

“Oh~ we will have plenty of time to figure this out together. But there’s one catch to all of this.” 

You don’t like that dimpled, mischievous grin on his face. 

……

SLOANE 

I find it hard to write to you these days. 

It’s just with everything going on, I can barely lift up my utensil to spill out my thoughts. I don’t know how to tell you that I’ve been abandoned by our family. 

I’m not sure how to tell you that Liam doesn’t visit me anymore. Or that Imogen barely has time for me. I can’t even have a proper conversation with Xaden. It’s like I’m actively using my signet, cloaking myself from them. At least it would be because of me that we can’t talk. Not them. Never them. 

They’re all preoccupied with Violet Sorrengail. To me, I think it’s ironic that they are tying their life to a girl whose mother killed our parents. But I know it’s for good reason. Don’t tell anyone that I’m telling you this, but if Violet dies (which is entirely possible), Xaden will die. Lenin and his parents don’t think her dragon will survive if Violet dies. And mated bonds between dragons are deadly too. So yeah. 

Violet dies? Tairn dies then Sgaeyl then Xaden. It’s a cycle of death. Honestly it terrifies me that Xaden could lose his life because of her. That Lenin could lose his parents if Violet Sorrengail isn’t careful in this college of death. Everyone wants her dead. 

She is General Sorrengail’s daughter. It’s not like the thought hasn’t crossed my own mind. To get revenge for our parents. Yet her life won’t bring back our parents. And I don’t want to lose Sgaeyl or Xaden. 

Anyways, I cannot wait to see you next year. I know you won’t leave me to my own devices. And I sure as hell won’t ignore you for this long either. I could use some sister talk. 

Fuck, what am I saying? 

I need to be honest with you. I just need someone this year because I’m changing, Sloane. My signet is progressing at a faster rate than I could have anticipated. I’m able to manipulate light and objects. I’m figuring this out all by myself - scratch that. Lenin just growled at me. But he’s in the same boat as me. We’re figuring it out together. 

See you soon. 

Your sister, [Name] 

Fun fact: Lenin calls Garrick an oaf. 

…

“Nervous?” 

Sloane picked her head up from the piece of parchment on her desk away from the pretty writing. Her blue eyes landed on her brother with a scar at the bridge of his nose absorbing all of her attention. He never talked about [Name]’s death. Only chalked it up to be an accident. 

Not much was said about [Name] in general. People rarely mention her and only the teachers will talk about her from time to time. Telling Sloane, Your sister was unstoppable. [Name] had a very unique signet. She loved to show off. You think you can beat our expectations? Your older siblings are a force to reckon with, what about you? 

“I’m not nervous.” Sloane finally answered Liam’s question and folded up the letter gently. Not at all happy about what she read. How could Liam abandon their sister? First year for [Name] was filled with fun, shenanigans, love and trust. Her second year was empty and cold. [Name]’s only friend being her dragon; Lenin. 

“It’s okay to feel-”

“Did you know she killed six people in her Threshing?” Sloane interrupted Liam, her eyes piercing through him. 

Liam straightened up at the door and looked away from her glaring blue eyes. It seemed he didn’t want to talk about their older sister right now. Not when her death was still fresh in his mind. It’s been months and no one wants to talk about her. 

“Yeah, I do. Deigh told me that she looked beautiful in a lethal way.” He answered truthfully, not a hint of emotion in his tone. No regret. No sadness. No anger. No sense of revenge. Liam talks about [Name] like she’s not dead. Sloane wants to know how [Name] died and no one is telling her how. 

“How,” Sloane looked back at the letter, keeping the topic on their older sister, “How am I supposed to compete with that? Or even know that I will bond to a dragon? [Name] says that the feeling was legit magical. That even when she killed her opponents and her dragon handled the last one, it was like they were destined for one another.”

Liam shifted uncomfortably and said, “No one can compare themselves to [Name]. She could have been stronger than General Sorrengail if she…if she hadn’t died. That much everyone knows and-”

“I feel bad for him, to know that our sister died and you won’t tell me anything about it.” The blonde woman grabbed the letter and placed it carefully back into her desk drawer with all the other opened letters. Stories and more stories of [Name]’s time at Basgaith filled that drawer. 

She knows more about [Name] and her dragon, Lenin, more than Liam. And he attended college while she was alive. How unfair is that? That Sloane has to learn about her sister through letters while Liam had the chance to get to know her in person…and he squandered that chance just so he could be best friends with a fucking Sorrengail? 

It pisses her off! 

“Are you saying you feel bad for Xaden?” 

Liam really thought she was talking about Xaden. Is he serious? 

“I’m talking about her dragon. The one who roars at the full moon like he’s cursing at it.” She stands up and slams her chair into her desk, “Everyone knows it's her dragon that roars out the same hour at the moon. And I’m not nervous about Threshing, if anything I am hoping to bond to Lenin so I can find out the truth!” 

Liam sighed and said, “Sloane, [Name]’s death was an accident. That’s all I can tell you for now. Anything more and I can put us in danger. I promised our sister that I would protect you, so let me.” He looked tired and worn. Like [Name]’s death weighed him down. 

Yeah, but not knowing is wearing Sloane down too. 

“Protect me? I don’t need protection. I need my brother to tell me what happened to our sister! She died and no one will tell me what happened. Imogen brushes me off, Bodhi gives me some pathetic look and Xaden is at some unreachable outpost!”

Sloane shut her drawer and glared at her chair. It’s all unfair to her. She’s waited years to be reunited with her family and this shit happens. 

“She said she would teach me her fighting technique, Liam. She said that she couldn’t wait to greet me on the other side of the parapet. And I couldn’t wait to just see her. All I want to know is what happened that night. How did she end up dying?”

“In an accident, Sloane,” Liam never let his words falter or stray away. He kept up his answer and shook his head, “I’m sorry you cannot accept that. Good luck tomorrow.” He turned his back on her and left her room shortly after. 

In her lonesome, Sloane stared at her door with an angry glare. She can’t imagine why Liam couldn’t tell her the truth. She deserved to know. And Sloane is going to find out one way or another. Her next step is to bond to Lenin and ask him how her sister died. 

……

This is not what she had in mind! 

Sloane finds herself running away from a blue swordtail, playing around with its food. Food being her and the three others that got roped into the feast. Some guy thought he bonded to the blue swordtail only for it to torch him.

Seemed like this dragon liked torching people alive because now it chased her and the others like it was all some kind of game to it. A sick and twisted game that she did not have time for. She has a goal today and now it changed to surviving threshing! Bonding to Lenin can wait!

Then a red blur soared past Sloane, but she didn’t stop to see what it was. Or what happens when a dragon makes a roar sound like that. While she ran with her life on the line, Sloane found a small cave. Quickly she ran over to the entrance of it and took a cautious peek inside. It was dark inside, but oddly warm. 

“Hey, Mairi!” 

Sloane abruptly turned around and saw some dude swinging his sword around. She doesn’t know who he was, doesn’t recall him in challenges or in classes. So how does he know her name? 

Then she sighed, being confronted by this man is way better than being chased by an enraged blue dragon. Sloane removed her hand from the edges of the cave and before she could question him, the sound of flapping wings caught her attention. 

A green swordtail landed on the peak of a mountain to her right and on top of it was Bodhi Durran. Great, now he’s here to witness the brawl. 

“You must think you’re special or something, huh?” The guy asked and walked over to her, his sword readied for an attack. Sloane is hot-headed, yeah. But she’s not going to jump into a fight with just a dagger. 

.

“She left these for you,” Liam dropped a huge stack of letters onto her desk. 

“Wow, she wrote a lot.” Sloane huffed with a smile. 

Liam returned it and pulled out a weapon from his leathers, “and this.” 

.

But [Name] did. She jumped into a long fight with six people of varying sizes. Killed them all with her dagger. It’s what earned her the endearing nickname. It’s what earned her a special bond with Lenin. 

If Sloane wants to capture Lenin’s attention, now is the time to prove her worth. “What makes you think that?” She questions back and pulls the dagger out, spinning it on her finger then flipping it into her palm. 

“The way you question your sister’s death,” the guy swings his sword, “acting like she’s not some sort of traitor. You think your sister died a hero’s death?” 

Sloane doesn’t know what to think. Because no one tells her anything about [Name]’s death. Yeah, she’s heard some rumors about [Name] being a traitor. That she helped out the enemies, supplying them with weapons. But her sister is not a traitor. They don’t know her. Not these people, not the Marked Ones, not Xaden and not Liam. 

Sloane knows [Name] and her deepest thoughts. 

“Keep mentioning my sister and I’ll cut your tongue out. You know nothing about her!” 

The man laughs and mocks her, “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I strike a chord? Cross a line of yours?” 

Sloane kept her stance, remembering [Name]’s threshing and what she wrote in the letter. 

When people wield a sword, you always want to shorten the distance between the two of you. But that’s the thing, obviously they have more room to strike. One swing and it’ll hurt like a bitch. So plant yourself and let the sword wielders make their move. 

Let them come to you. Then you strike. 

She planted her feet and focused on her breathing. [Name]’s fought people as big as this guy, she wouldn't be this scared. [Name] fought six people in a dense fog. Sloane is fighting one dude in the setting sun. She can do this. 

“[Name] Mairi is a traitor and I’m willing to bet you are too! So it is my duty to kill you now! Make sure you don’t bond to any dragon!” 

“Then come and do it already! I’m tired of hearing you talk!” Sloane shouted back and the man charged at her. His brown eyes dead set on her, his mouth forming into a scowl. Sloane sucked in a deep breath when something touched the very essence of her soul. 

Warm blood splattered on her face and the sound of crunching bones overwhelmed her senses. A deep rumble vibrated behind her and she could feel the sound reverberate in her chest. She wiped her eyes free from the blood and witnessed a gnarly mess in front of her. 

The guy didn’t even get to scream. He didn’t see the threat right behind her and neither did Sloane. She let out the breath she held and watched the dragon munching on the man swallow him whole. Then the dragon’s lilac eye stared into her soul. 

“You must be an idiot to approach him.” A voice rumbled inside her head and Sloane looked around for the source. It didn’t take long for a strawberry red dragon to make its presence known in the valley. It walked towards her with a bowed head, showing respect for the huge beast that just finished his snack. “But the male he just finished off is a bigger idiot. Talking about his previous rider like she was nothing, but a traitor.” 

“W-what…” Sloane raised her hands up to her head and tried to focus on another voice that spoke to her. His voice, demanding and agitated, drowned her thoughts. She stumbled over to the red dragon wanting to put distance between her and the white dragon. 

Wait, white dragon? Only one dragon existed with that coloring. 

“Don’t rush into it. The power he channels is a lot stronger than mine, so focus. He’s reaching out and you need to grab onto him.” The voice leads her and Sloane tries her best to pay attention to the thread leading her to the white dragon. 

Then she hears him, his voice coming at her in full force. 

“To think I would have the chance of meeting Dagger’s spitfire at a time like this.”

It’s Lenin! And he’s addressing her through a bond. She did it! She bonded to Lenin!

“And I, do not forget about me.” 

Sloane’s vision, free of the blood and blurriness, captures two dragons in her view. A red dragon and a white dragon, side by side. She bonded to two dragons…how could this be? It shouldn’t be possible. She can barely comprehend that she bonded to one in general. 

“Possible or not isn’t the problem here. It’s who we chose that has a say in the end. Although, I will say I am surprised Lenin is not threatening me like he did Deigh two years ago.” 

“I am in no mood to fight you over Sloane. I’m only doing what my Dagger wanted me to do.”

“Which is to bond to me?” Sloane asked and she couldn't help, but felt relieved. She survived threshing and bonded to two dragons. What more could she have asked for? 

Lenin chuffs and shakes his wings, little pieces of leaves and greenery come off of him. Then Sloane breathes out a laugh because she couldn’t believe it. The cave she was trying to enter was the freaking curve of his leg. He wasn’t a mountain although he literally is a size of one. 

“We should let her announce our names now. Time is almost up.” 

“Go. I’ll be there shortly.” 

Sloane looks at Thoirt and Lenin, still not able to process this. She has two dragons, both beautiful in color. Thoirt makes her way to Sloane and waits for Sloane to mount her. With shaky hands, filled from excitement, Sloane climbs up the strawberry red dragon with a triumphant grin. 

She fucking did it. 

……

LIAM

“Sloane is seriously a thorn in my fucking side, Liam.” Imogen and the rest of the Marked Ones, including Violet, all sat at the edge of a cliff with some of their dragons right behind them.

They just finished doing some flight maneuvers to see the first years riding back from their Threshing. Browns, oranges, greens and reds flew over from the fields while doing some movements to see if their rider was worth it. 

“Yeah, I know,” Liam grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest, “She won’t leave me alone either.” 

Imogen plopped down next to the blonde and said while pinching her fingers, “I’m this close to telling her about [Name]. Just so she can leave me be.” 

Both Violet and Liam snapped their necks to look at Imogen with worried glares. Then Imogen rolled her eyes, “Don’t worry. I won’t, but at some point we have to tell her something. She’s going crazy and she’s about to read what happened in [Name]’s second year anyways.” Imogen returned the glare at Violet and said, “Sorry, Sorrengail, but I’m pretty sure [Name] had nothing good to say about you. Or Xaden. Or Liam. Hell, even me.” 

Liam shook his head and smiled grimly, “Yeah, we’re all screwed.” 

Another dragon landed behind them and a breathless, “We’re more than screwed.” caught their attention. Looking over their shoulders, Bodhi rolled off his dragon and addressed the trio with a shake of his head. 

The sunset glow made the sweat on Bodhi’s forehead gleam and he frustratedly paced in front of them. “It’s Sloane. Good news, she survived Threshing. Also extremely good news, she bonded to two dragons.” 

Everyone shot up from the ground and walked over to Bodhi. 

“Two dragons?” 

“No fucking way Sloane is capable of doing that.”

“Who did she bond to?” 

The last question stopped Bodhi from pacing and he looked at his friends with a nervous grin. Then it faltered when his gaze moved away from them and behind them. “Have a look for yourself.” 

Liam turned around, covering the setting sun with his hand to witness his little sister on the back of a red dragon. Her blonde hair and her light skin had been tainted by dried blood. Sloane looked like she came out of a bloodbath and he had so many questions running through his mind. 

“Great. She bonded to a red dragon.” Imogen spoke up then addressed Bodhi with more sarcasm in her tone, “Don’t tell me she bonded to a Blue too. Knowing Sgaeyl, I think I had my fair share of a Blue.” 

Bodhi shook his head and said, “You’re going to eat your words in a few minutes here.” 

Liam never removed his eyes away from Sloane and her contagious smile. After all these months, Sloane expressed happiness for the first time today. Although she looked like a psycho, Liam feels reassured by her sight. She is alive and bonded to a dragon. 

Then Deigh’s voice strikes him down. 

“Do not be alarmed when I tell you this, but Lenin has found a new rider.” 

Something behind Sloane and her dragon reflects the evening sun and his breath hitches in the back of his throat. Then Imogen’s guesses fall silent like Glane finally told her about the second dragon that chose Sloane. 

“Okay, the silence is killing me.” Violet chimes up then Imogen starts laughing. Her maniacal laughs fade into the background because all Liam can hear is the sound of Lenin’s whine. The evening sun darkens into a much darker sky and he feels like rain is pelting down on him. 

“They’re not after you now. They want me and if that’s what they really want, I’m taking them down with me.” 

He can see [Name] stand in front of him at the edge of the cliff. Her nose was bleeding with a determined look on her face. She held out a green dagger to him, her words crystal clear, “Give this to Sloane when she learns how to kick ass.” 

Liam can’t breathe. 

“Liam…” [Name]’s voice is overlapped by the others around him. He can see his friends surrounding him with worried faces and he doesn’t know what to do. [Name] keeps talking to him, he wants to say sorry. He wants to apologize to her for avoiding her. 

“Liam!” He blinks once then twice, silent tears falling down like a calm river. It’s Violet trying to catch his attention. “Liam, you’re having a panic attack! You need to-” 

“I know what I’m doing, Liam!” 

Liam can feel the tips of his fingers cramp up then numb over. He moves his eyes away from Violet and watches [Name] at the cliffside. Her nose is no longer bleeding. She actually looked real to him. She stood with a grin on her face watching Sloane hold onto her red dragon in the skies followed by a chuffing Lenin. 

Then [Name] looks over her shoulder, her grin turning upside down with worry. She looks at him and her frown deepens. But it’s not the frown that makes him question what the hell is going on. It’s the color of her eyes. They’re not blue. 

They’re red. 

“Liam, breathe! Damn it!” Violet shouts. All of a sudden, his vision goes black.

......

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[hyuck-xix]

i think for the sake of myself and others i should go into a week-long hibernation every time i have my period

[ozzgin]

Yandere!Merman x Reader x Yandere!Prince

One day, you bring home a monstrous creature as the future groom for the much-demanded marriage. The family is in despair, and a foreign Prince vows to change your mind. Based on Antonín Dvořák's Rusalka. content: gender neutral reader, angst, love triangle

You return home with a triumphant smile, marching towards the grand room and opening the doors with fanfare. Your family has been pestering you to get married for months now, piling endless proposals on your study desk and inviting nameless royalty to meet you in hopes they'd catch your interest.

"I have found a groom," you declare with a sombre, official tone as your parents nearly tumble out of their seats, rattling the afternoon teacups. The servants, too, swarm over to witness your arrival: they'd never heard such confidence in your voice.

They all gather around, lips pursed in expectation, eyes widened towards the entrance. At last, as promised, someone appears behind you: A pallid creature with a sickly face, walking along crookedly, with clumps of dark locks framing the length of his bony, slender body.

It's...monstrous. One maid begins to fan herself in horror, while your mother returns to her cushioned chair with trembling hands. What a frightful sight! Surely this can't be a proper human; a ghastly fiend, perhaps, a ghoul haunting the forests at night, but no man to stand with you before a holy altar!

"He said he loves me, you see," you explain with flushed cheeks. "Well, he didn't explicitly say it...as I don't think he can speak at all. Yet, I can tell."

The pale beast nods fervently to your words.

Oh, yes, he does love you so very much. After all, he sold his soul and his voice just to walk the Earth with you! From the moment he caught a glimpse of you, he knew you were meant to be his. A fate seamed by the Gods themselves; he was certain of it.

There was one hurdle he was forced to overcome in order to properly face you. He is a water spirit, you see. A merman, yes, that’s how the humans often call him. He dwells at the bottom of the ocean, swimming with the frothing waves, luring the unsuspecting sailors to their early demise. It was during one of your boat travels that he laid his eyes on you. Immediately, viciously, his heart begun to throb with yearning. He needed to have you in his embrace at all costs.

Consequently, and without much stalling, he decided to leave the azure of the sea behind and crawl his way on land, searching for his betrothed. His father was enraged, but he knew better than to prod his son’s stubbornness. Before he knew it, the sallow creature was obediently standing in front of Ježibaba the Witch, signing the cursed pact that would leave him mute. Should the love fade, she warned, he’d be dragged back into the depths, fettered by the swamp mud, cursed to live as a will-o’-the-wisp, bringer of death and despair.

Child, night after night your siblings will weep for you! There’s no help for you, once a human has enticed you into their power.

With limbs foreign to him, he pitifully stumbled across the shore, where you found him in the early hours of the morning. At last, he thought, he’d be at your side.

Your family is not alone in their sorrows. Among the many suitors, there’s a certain foreign Prince who’s not quite ready to accept your decision. No, it simply cannot be. No one else in this world loves you like he does; of that he is certain. Whatever vile charlatan you’ve brought into your home is all but a mockery in the face of his feelings.

With a wrathful step, he strides towards the castle, cursing this newfound love of yours. He doesn’t play games of fate, nor does he need the wicked magic of witches and devils. His pace is confident, imposing; a far cry from the meagre slither of the monstrous merman. There’s something your wild beast will never have, something his soul is devoid of: passion. Alas, you will soon discover what it truly means to be adored by a human. Not just any human, mind you, but someone of his nobility and virtue.

The prince is welcomed by a pair of whispering servants. They bemoan the terror that has befallen their estate, the trickery that engulfed your royal heart, causing you to long after a creature of the night. What could have possessed you in that very moment, when you stumbled upon the demon?

Like clockwork, their voices are abruptly hushed by the shuffle of uncertain feet. The men turn around and immediately frown at the mysterious groom. Whatever summoned him in their presence is irrelevant. The prince shoves the terrified group aside, standing proud before the crooked figure.

“I don’t know what sorcery lies at the bottom of your deceit - convincing someone of (Y/N)’s grace to even gaze in your direction - but you’re better off returning to the hole you crawled out of.”

He briefly glances at the servants who’re holding their breaths at the exchange.

“They bear witness to my mercy! I will allow you to leave, though mistake not my kindness for naivety. (Y/N) was promised to me in marriage, and I shan’t permit anyone to interfere with my plans. This sword,” he threatens, placing a hand over the leather sheath, “this sword has slayed ogres twice as frightful.”

He pauses, searching his rival’s eyes, unable to find the fear he hoped to instil with his intimidation tactics. Very well, if death isn’t the answer to ridding himself of the plague...

“I’ll tell you what,” the prince finally continues, twisting his mouth in a pained frown, “you’re fooling yourself if you think (Y/N) feels anything but pity for you. Can you look at me, man to man, and tell me you love them with the same passion?”

There it is, that cursed word once more, ensnarling him tightly and pressing against his chest like the branding of hot iron. The merman’s hands curl in a fist, yet he is unable to speak, to shout, to cry. The creeping shadow of doubt suddenly engulfs him: is it truly the lack of voice that holds him back? Or might this man speak the truth? He is, after all, a monster that was never meant to walk on land, a spirit belonging to the waters. Could his adoration compare with that of other humans, with their warmth, with their vigorous, beating hearts?

A thread snaps. The merman’s soul is heavy, trampled by gloom and despair. Perhaps the Gods were merely laughing at his ridiculous dreams, dangling the hook of false hope before his hungry jaws, watching him writhe on the surface until the lungs collapse. The ground spins and the air is bitter, scorching his throat. As if pulled by invisible hands, his body hurries outside, across the rocky shore and into the foam of the waves; Ježibaba’s words echo against his eardrums. He sinks.

“Where’s the groom?”

You freeze in the doorframe, baffled to find one of your suitors in your room. The foreign prince welcomes you with a deep bow, gripping one of your hands with greed and pressing it against his lips.

“It has returned to its depths. I hope you understand,” he pleads, almost throwing himself at your feet. “Such a creature has no place among us.”

“What nonsense are you spewing?” the venom in your words causes the young man to tug at his chest. What must he do for you to accept him?

You nonchalantly slap his hand off you, then turn on your heels and scurry down the hall, followed by the panicked prince.

“Don’t be foolish! He’s been cursed, a damned ghoul dwelling at the bottom of the swamp, drowning humans who wander too close.”

His usual tenacity has faded, voice cracking with anguish and envy. This time it’s you who walks with unbreaking determination, reaching for the marsh. His mind races within a fog, trying to come up with a way to stop you in your tracks. He could draw his weapon, of course. Instinctually, his toned arm grips the handle, picturing the swing of the blade - a necessary evil? No, you’d never forgive such violence, and he can’t bear the thought of you despising him anymore than you do now.

It’s too late. Your expensive, polished shoes dip lightly into the mud, causing you to advance more steadily. You begin shouting without aim, scanning the area and praying for an answer.

Truth be told, he was indeed hoping you would return: the faintest of wish he dared to keep in his aching heart. The merman claws his way out of the murk, revealing his even paler figure. His beloved, his dearest! To see you in front of him like this is worth all the damnation in the world.

The prince involuntarily grabs your wrist. This is his final chance to convince you of his devotion, of his undying loyalty. He would burn the entire world down just to have you look in his direction. A vague smile crosses his face; to hear his own shameless thoughts...A noble turned into a beggar. He never expected to find himself trapped in such a miserable yearning.

The swamp is quiet, save for your laboured breaths. You’re burdened by indecisiveness. You...

[ghost-proofbaby]

kissing lessons, pt. 2

summary: you and robin face the music that maybe the kissing lessons aren't just lessons after all.

pairing: robin buckley x fem!reader

warnings: even more sapphic yearning than the first one (in my opinion), lots of religious imagery scattered sporadically, and a lots of hints/passing mentions of homophobia (no talk of violence, etc.) that was normal in the 80s. there's even more discussion of reader conforming to the usual and dating a boy. once again, reader is explicitly female.

wc: 3.3k+

a/n: i cannot explain how healing writing this has been. shout out to younger me for surviving the way my own experience ended with a lot more heartbreak - you deserved a robin buckley, baby ghost. and thank you to everyone who read the first one and was so very kind. i am eternally grateful <3

part 1 here

It was your own damn fault, probably. 

Robin may have been the one to ignite the fire, so prettily asking to start having those godforsaken kissing lessons, but you’d be the one clutching a bottle of gasoline. You’d been the one fanning the flames with each arrangement you’d insist upon, Saturday after Saturday always being spent one predictable way: kissing your best friend. 

In your bedroom, in her living room, behind the slide at the park. 

Mid-afternoon, early mornings, in the dead of night. 

Any time that you can find an excuse for it, your lips were attached to Robin Buckley’s, chipping away at your own demise, and it was all your fault. 

There wasn’t a handbook for this, though. There was no pamphlet to explain all the butterflies that would erupt in your stomach every time she’d smile at you slyly just before she’d lean it to initiate the kisses, no how-to for stopping the shake in your hands as you’d cradle thighs and cheeks alike as if they were the most sacred of sacrifices, no survival guide for all the heartache that now haunts your every waking moment when you think about the smell of her perfume. You had no one who could explain away your obsession with the taste of passion fruit lip smackers these days. 

You were in love with your best friend, and it sort of felt like some type of terrible shipwreck done by your own recklessness. 

And if she felt even an ounce of the same way, you couldn’t see it. You simply couldn’t allow yourself to read any further into the brushes of her hand in the hallways that had grown more consistent. If you daydreamed too long about the way she’d been so overly supportive of you wearing skirts to school more often these days, you’d quite possibly self-implode. It was all a dangerous game, a hopeless drowning in the middle of the Atlantic, and you were just letting it happen. 

“Why was that Connor guy talking to you in the hall today?”

And if you read too much into what you so desperately wanted to describe as jealousy in her tone right now, you’d certainly combust in the blink of an eye. 

It wasn’t even a Saturday – it was a Friday. Saturdays were the holy days, the days in which you could guarantee you’d taste her all over your tongue and be allowed to gather all your offerings in the form of worshiping whispers and guiding movements as she straddled your lap. The rest of the week, the two of you were nothing more than the best of friends. On Fridays, you should be nothing but two girls who find innocent and platonic solace in one another. 

It’s just hard to do when all you’re capable of thinking about is how soft the skin of her neck was nearly a week ago, when your lips had trailed down to her pulse point in such feathery light brushes. 

“Oh!” you sit up from where you’d been spread out on her bed, looking up at her with sudden excitement as you watch her spin in her desk chair, “I forgot to tell you! Holy shit, you’re going to love this.” 

The moment it had happened, you’d started mentally counting down the moments until you’d have the chance to tell Robin of the awkward conversation. You can’t believe you’d forgotten about it so easily once you’d gotten the girl alone. 

She pauses her spinning immediately, blinking rapidly as she was clearly dizzy, “What do you mean? Why am I going to love it?” 

“He asked me out to milkshakes.”

You wait. And wait. And wait. Nearly quaking with all the anticipation for your best friend to burst out into laughter with you over the irony of it all. 

You just keep waiting. 

The laughter never escapes Robin, her face stoic as she doesn’t even smile. All the giggles and rolling of eyes you’d expected to share is completely erased with that look on her face currently. A look you almost mistake as hurt, a look that reaches far beyond jealousy.

The look of someone standing amongst the wreckage of an abandoned ship. 

When she finally speaks again, with deflated shoulders and the corners of her mouth down-turned, it’s soft enough you almost miss it. “Did you say yes?” 

It was the one question you hadn’t been expecting – you’d assumed it had been a given that you’d turn the poor boy down. 

“Obviously not,” you snort, uneasy as you rifle through your mind, a sudden desperation to make Robin smile or to lighten the mood immediately rearing its head. 

“Obviously?” 

This conversation is very much not going the way you had seen it play out in your head. Robin’s missing all of her lines, none of her expressions lining with the directorial vision you’d been gifted with when the moment had happened. 

No saccharine laughter, no sweet joy. None of the sugared reactions are rotting your teeth out. 

Instead, there’s just a strange and hollow ache. The vacant expression of Robin’s face that twitches ever so slightly with something more below the surface, and a tension in the air that wraps around your throat tightly. 

“Yeah, I mean,” you choke out, trying to stave off your discomfort, “We both know how I feel about milkshake dates. And besides, he wanted to go tomorrow, and we already have plans-”

“You could’ve said yes,” she blurts out. As soon as the words fall in the space between you two, she’s wide-eyed, staring at you like a scared deer caught up in your headlights, “Our plans- They-” she pauses, and takes a deep breath that almost looks painful, “You could have said yes if you wanted to. I’d live. Plus, it’d give you a chance to put our lessons to use.” 

No sweetness, only a sour on your tongue that makes your face twist. “Why would I use our lessons on Connor from pottery?” 

Why would I ever want to kiss somebody that isn’t you? 

The thought easily makes you sick to your stomach. The lips of someone who isn’t Robin Buckley pressed to yours, the hands of someone who isn’t your best friend tracing the curves of your body. You think you’d rather die. 

“I dunno,” Robin is mumbling now, almost looking ashamed. The last thing you’d wanted to do was shame her. You’d just wanted to share a laugh with your best friend, “That was sort of the point, right? You wanted to get good at kissing-”

“We,” you correct her.

“What?”

“We wanted to get good at kissing. You can’t tell me there’s no boys in the band that have asked you out or you’d have a chance to kiss. You’re…” Even as the words are ash in your mouth, sticking to the roof of your mouth and making it hard to breathe, you force it all out. The only words left are the truth, anyways, “Beautiful, Robs. You’re fucking stunning, and funny, and so kind. Who’s your Connor from poetry, hm?” 

It’s a dagger to the heart. It’s alcohol on a paper cut, salt in a throbbing wound. Every cliche and morbid pain in the books is racing through you at what you’ve just said. Asking her about boys is worse than simply accepting it as a hypothetical. Having to actually hear about boys chasing after the girl that’s occupied you irrevocably is worse than imagining them all. 

At least in your imagination, they could all be fumbling over their feet, falling to the dirt as Robin cackles and arrives straight to her original destination – you. At least in your imagination, you stand a chance. 

“God, no,” she scrunches her nose up, immediately standing from her chair, “Oh my God, no. Ew. I don’t- I’d never-” 

“You’d never?” you raise an eyebrow, watching as she nearly starts to pace. 

“We were talking about you!” she bursts out, arms flailing out beside her, spinning so she was stood right in front of you, “You and Colton-”

“Connor.”

“-and how you should go get milkshakes with him! You should’ve said yes, okay? You could say you have a boyfriend when you get to college if you’d said yes.” 

Boyfriend. A word that will never, ever leave your lips. Not just when it came to Connor – when it came to all the boys in your school. All the boys in your town. All the boys in the goddamn world. 

That word doesn’t fit. It’s too tight, too confining. Strangles you in all the wrong places and makes your chest constrict in the worst way. 

You don’t want a boyfriend. 

You want your best friend to stop pacing, you want your best friend to hold your hand, you want it to be Saturday and for your best friend to kiss your fucking face off.

Pathetic, only because you don’t think you’ll ever find the nerve to say it to her out loud. 

“Who cares if I have a boyfriend when I go to college?” you spit out, struggling to even say the damn word, “I could give two shits if I-”

“I care!” Robin is turning erratic, wild as she tugs at her hair and looks at you with such misplaced desperation. You don’t know what she wants from you – you can’t give her what she’s asking of you, “I care, because you deserve to have that normal experience. You should be out there, kissing boys and going on dates to share a milkshake and- and- and… not spending your Saturdays with me, hiding away and kissing me and sharing chapstick and making me feel all these stupid feelings-” 

She cuts off roughly, a small gasp leaving her lips as she realizes what she’s just said. 

Making me feel all these stupid feelings. 

“What do you mean by that?” you whisper, sharing at her, shocked, “What do you mean by stupid feelings-”

“Forget it.”

“No.” 

“Yes,” she pleads, taking a step back when you stand up in front of her, “Dear God, please forget I ever said that. I’m literally begging you.” 

Stupid feelings. 

What does she even define as stupid feelings? 

Is it that her heart races whenever you suggest another lesson? Is it that warmth that spreads head to toe every time you grab her hand casually? Is it all that pain with nowhere to go at the end of the day, when you bury your face in a pillow and scream out all the what-ifs you assume you’ll never explore in this lifetime? 

You think about your parents. The ones who are never home, or are oblivious in the kitchen as you shut your door and quickly return to your bed, where your best friend is awaiting you eagerly just to get her tongue down your throat. You think of Robin’s parents, who force her to go to church every Sunday, never realizing she can still taste the strawberry chapstick all over her lips come morning. Whispering all their prayers in the same tone she’d whispered your name the night before. You think about all the peers your age who spend their Saturday nights in diners, sharing milkshakes and planning their futures – their normal futures. 

White picket fence, a mid-size dog to run around the yard. Two and a half kids, and a wedding ring gleaming on the finger on their left hand directly connected to their heart. The same one that Robin always fiddles with while the two of you sit and do homework together, the same one Robin once slipped an old coin-machine ring onto as a joke when you were thirteen, cackling about some sort of marriage pact that had every adult in vicinity glaring at the two of you. 

All the things you can’t dream about. Because when you do, it’s never the nice boy your father points out at the grocery store. It’s never that boy your mother finds absolutely darling, who lives two houses down and has offered to mow your lawn numerous times. 

Every time you try to picture it, it’s with Robin. 

Her with a matching ring you’ve bought for a quarter, her lipstick staining the matching mug on your kitchen counter during a quiet morning. Kids with her freckles, kids with all her spunk. A dog she’d name something incredibly niche, and that you’d fight her on endlessly, but end up giving in simply because you love her. 

Whenever you try to look to the future, it’s with the girl before you, who has tears gathering in her lash line now. Embarrassment painting every inch of her exposed skin, and her chest stuttering with every gasping breath. 

Stupid feelings. You’d become entirely acquainted with stupid feelings, you just hadn’t realized that Robin had as well. 

“What do you mean by that, Robs?” your voice cracks, begging all but on your knees at this moment. Everything you could possibly want right in an arm’s reach. 

You don’t even need the picket fence or the dog. Kids could vanish right from the dream. The house could become a quaint apartment in the city. The morning coffee could be traded for peppermint tea. As long as the thing that never changes is her, you don’t really care where the visions lead. 

She says your name so softly, you nearly break down entirely. You want to hear it for the rest of your days. The way the shape of your name curls around her tongue and falls from her lips, “You should just forget I said anything, I mean it. Go home and call Connor-”

“Fuck Connor!” you suddenly raise your voice, so entirely done with all the boy talk. All the expectations and all the definitions of normal. Your finger on your left hand, connected directly to your heart, throbs. “I don’t want to share some half-melted milkshake with that… with that… idiot! I want to share it with the idiot in front of me right now. I don’t want to practice kissing on him, I want to practice with you. I don’t want him, and I don’t want that boy who bags groceries at Melvald’s, and I don’t-” 

Robin Buckley is the brave one. She shuts you up about all the ones you don’t want, by giving you the one thing you do want. 

Soft palms, soft lips. Gentle hesitation to soothe the scars of a future you never really cared for. Fruity lip balm that somehow perfectly matches airy perfume. 

She’s kissing you like her life depends on it. Like she’s feeling an ache in the joints of that finger connected to the heart, and she just can’t take it anymore. Like she loves you. Or at least likes you. 

And you’ll take what you can get when you reach up to grab onto her anywhere you can find. Bunching her shirt at her hip with your first, fingers curling around her forearm that’s connected to the hand cradling your cheek. You can’t possibly lean into it all enough; can’t press your lips any tighter against hers, can’t have any more of your limbs bumping into hers as you stumble backwards and onto her bed. 

She’s crawling over you, little puffs of breaths escaping between kisses, hovering above you with a halo of sunlight leaking in through her bedroom window. 

She looks like a God you don’t believe in, and one she can’t be spoon-fed to worship anymore. All holier notions are focused on you. Fingers trailing their way up under your shirt and hips bumping against yours as you both try to learn what to do with this new position. 

It’s better than your best friend seated in your lap, timidly moving her tongue. It’s nicer. 

“Stupid feelings,” you breathe out when she moves to pepper kisses on your cheek, on your jaw, on your neck, “Stupid fucking feelings.” 

“Sometimes, I wish we’d never started the lessons, you know?” she whispers when she pauses at your collarbone, peering up at you with those glossy blue eyes. Oceans deep, ready for your ship to roll right into. Ready for your ship to crash in. “It made all of this so much harder and complicated.” 

Your fingers slide into her hair, tugging at the sporadic pieces that you’d helped cut a year ago. The saddest excuse for layers ever, “Made what harder?” 

You want to hear her say it. You need to hear her say it. 

“Liking you.”

If hearts could burst, yours would be fluttering shreds behind your ribs. Nothing more than the aftermath of finally, finally, hearing those words fall from her lips. 

“You like me?” your cheeks ache immediately from your grin, so wide it occupies your entire face. You swear you can see its reflection in her eyes. 

Her head lifts and you see some of the fear still lingering behind her own smile, “Yeah, doofus. I like you. A lot, actually. And I just always assumed you liked that Cooper boy-”

“His name is Connor.”

“I know,” she laughs, face contorting as she bites back more giggles. It’s no use though, as her head falls forward and her forehead lands on the center of your chest, “I just- God, I sort of hated him. I heard him ask you out for the milkshake and I just wanted to punch the dude-”

“You heard?” you’re laughing now, head thrown back, “I’m sorry, you knew why I was talking to him, and you still tried to play all coy and ask me?” 

“Can you blame a girl for trying?” 

No. No, you really couldn’t. You can only imagine the ridiculous plans you’d elaborately conjure if you’d ever overheard a boy asking Robin out on a date. All the jealousy ploys and childish schemes, born out of all the sunshine she’s been instilling in you since the first day you’d met her. 

And imagining that is fine. But what you no longer have to imagine is a Robin who chooses you, the scenario in which you can simply grab her and kiss her until you’ve run out of breaths and your lungs have shriveled into nothing more than feathers in your chest. 

So you do. 

You tug her back up to you and kiss her, far more languid than she’d initially kissed you. The slow movements of lips with all the time in the world. The steady movements of hands that belong as you run them over her shoulders and down her back, bring them to those hips you’d been adoring every Saturday. 

You kiss Robin Buckley on a Friday, simply because you can. 

Nice, your mind rings out. Nice, nice, nice. 

This was nice – this was right. None of that discomfort at the thought of letting Connor kiss you, no strangulation at the word boyfriend. You feel like you can breathe for the first time in your life as you kiss your best friend serenely and let all of that love seep out of your skin when it presses to hers. In the background of it all, a new word forms, a soft blanket of comfort rather than something to wrap around your throat. 

Girlfriend.

Now that? That sounds nice. 

“Hey,” Robin says when she pulls back slowly, tip of her nose still bumping yours, the weight of her still between your thighs, “Do you want to…. I don’t know, go get a milkshake with me or something?” 

You don’t think about either of your parents, or any of the self-righteous vipers who might be prowling the town on a Friday night. You know it won’t be the same as going to the diner with a nice boy – you know you won’t be able to kiss her on the street or cuddle up quite as obviously, keep her quite as close as you so desperately ached to, but it was okay. 

It was enough. For now. 

“Only if we can get strawberry,” you quip, unable to help yourself as you lean up for another brief peck. 

The peck isn’t enough. You don’t think any amount of Robin’s treacly kisses would ever be enough. You’d probably spend an entire lifetime just trying to get your fill. 

“Deal,” she rasps, clearly sharing the sentiment as she leans back down, kissing you right back. Eager lips not quite satisfied. 

There would be no screaming or crying into pillows tonight. 

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[moonstruck-poet]

A Thousand Years

Pairing - Elijah Mikaelson x reader!

Summary - A depiction of your relationship with Elijah throughout the centuries based on the song 'A Thousand Years'

Warnings - blood, fight, pain

Heart, beats, fast. Colours. And promises. How to be brave? How can I love when I'm afraid to fall, but watching you stand alone. All of my doubt, suddenly goes away somehow. One step closer.

Elijah Mikaelson stood in front of the floor length mirror, adjusting his newest tunic for the hundredth time. He gave himself a once over, his gaze critical as he searched for flaws in his appearance.

Once he was indeed sure that he looked fine, he sighed deeply. His heart was hammering uncontrollably against his ribcage since the early hours of the morning. He dismissed it off as just nerves, but he knew better.

It was the familiar fear that gripped his insides like a vice, not planning on letting go so soon. He felt the imaginary fingers squeezing his heart, the touch full of dread and coldness. He had experienced this feeling a handful of times in his rather small lifetime of 25 years. Even being a vampire, one of the deadliest creatures couldn't help him from himself.

The door to his room was suddenly pushed open, pulling him out of his thoughts. His brother, Niklaus entered, dressed in his finest clothing as he approached his elder with a small smile.

"Are you ready brother?"

Elijah could only shake his head as the grip seemed to tighten around his throat now. Klaus furrowed his eyebrows, walking closer as he analysed Elijah, deducing that he was afraid.

"I can see the fear in your eyes, Elijah. What is it? God forbid that you are having second thoughts about this marriage?"

"Certainly not, Niklaus," he immediately shot his brother down. "I cannot think of pledging myself to another but her. I have wanted this for as long as I can remember".

"Then why is it that you have this trepidation written all over your face?"

"I...." He began, before huffing and sitting down on the bed. His hands gripped the sheets, turning his knuckles white. "I think I am falling in love. Or have fallen for quite a while. This overwhelming feeling that I sense every time I lay eyes on her, I did not want to give it a name. I thought it was merely some adoration, that it was just because I was a youngster. But I have realised rather late that this- it is much deeper".

"I do not see a problem," his dear sister spoke, having heard their conversation. "Love is the most beautiful thing ever, brother. As is friendship. You are quite lucky to have found both within the same person".

"I know that," he muttered and stood up, brushing a hand through his long hair and glancing again at his reflection. How was he supposed to explain it to them? That every single time when he had opened his heart, had felt love, something worse was quick to follow. He saw it numerous times with his own family. Elijah loved them fiercely and look what happened to Henrik. Klaus who was almost killed by their own father when he had tried to protect the younger and in turn was left with nothing but blood on his hands.

He had despite himself allowed you near, engaging with you because he couldn't bring himself to resist. He was drawn, more than a moth to a flame. He found himself always wanting to be around you, longing for your attention when you were present and wishing for your presence every second.

He then found the courage to confess his feelings, being pleasantly surprised when you responded with a gentle, fleeting kiss on his lips. He began courting you, having a wonderful experience with every passing day.

Sure enough you had brought down his well built, yet fragile walls. Providing him with everything he had ever wanted. Friendship, loyalty, love.. and now family. The one thing he had yearned for the most.

And he was scared.

"Earth to Elijah," Rebekah grabbed his arm and offered him an excited smile. She had been ecstatic when he announced it to his family. Always having thought of you as a sister, she was delighted to know that you would actually be family.

"It is time," Klaus spoke, placing a hand on his brother's shoulder and clasping it. As the best man, he couldn't afford any mishaps now could he.

"They are waiting for you, big brother," the youngest, Kol popped his head in, his lips holding a big grin. He was probably the most eager to welcome you, being rather fond of you.

"Or should I say, she is waiting," Finn added, a rare smile adorning his face as he crossed his arms.

A faint blush rose on Elijah's cheeks, something that was immediately noticed by his siblings who wasted no time in teasing their usually collected brother become flustered.

As he stood at the altar, his patience began running thin. All he wanted was to see you, hold your hand and kiss you. And the gods answered his prayers. For the next second you came into view, a gorgeous dress brushing the ground as you walked towards him. His breath stopped, time slowed and everything fell silent.

All he could see was you walking towards him. The small gathering of people faded into nothingness as he watched the love of his life. He had seen you for so many years, but nothing could have prepared him for this moment.

And unknowingly his eyes began to water making him swallow. He couldn't remember the last time that he had been on the verge of crying so quickly. He could feel his chest swell, and it took him a second to notice that the earlier unwelcomed torment had given way to utter adoration.

And once you were standing right in front of him, with your father giving your hand for him to hold, he held it with the utmost gentleness. He had always been soft around you, showing a side that was barely visible. But right now, the way he looked at you, held you, it felt special in some way.

"Hey there," you whispered and shot him a cheeky smirk making him chuckle through his emotions.

"Hello love," he replied, unable to conceal the warmth emitting from his eyes when he saw you grinning like a fool.

"Do you, Elijah Mikaelson take her to be your wife? Do you promise to cherish her always, to honor and sustain her. In sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, and to be true to all things until death alone shall part you?"

"I do," he answered without missing a beat, a lone tear trailing down his cheek when he heard you repeat the words.

You tilted your head slightly, raising your palm to wipe his tears. His lips twitched as he placed his hand above yours, turning it so he could press a kiss on the inside.

"I therefore pronounce you as husband and wife," the priest spoke, thus ending the ceremony.

Elijah's arm went to your waist, pulling you closer until your chests brushed, millimetres of distance between your lips as he cupped your face. His eyes scanned every inch of you, engraving this memory forever in his mind. He leaned ahead, slowly, patiently before kissing you with every ounce of passion. His fingers dug softly into your waist as he savoured the fact that you were indeed his wife. That you had officially been bonded for eternity.

The panic that had seized control of him was nowhere to be seen, as though it had dissolved into thin air at the mere sight of you. Another thought struck him when he pulled away, slightly breathless and barely registering the cheers that went around. It was that the affection he held for you outweighed all of his negative emotions. You made him a better man by simply being there.

And the words rolled off of his lips so easily, that even he was dumbstruck. It felt like second nature to say them out loud.

"I love you," he whispered, resting his forehead against yours and closing his eyes. Neither of you had ever said it until now, those three words bearing a much profound meaning for both. And so you had waited too, wanting to be absolutely sure that there was nothing more that you wanted, no one else you would rather have.

When he opened his eyes, he seemed to melt on seeing the awed look on your face. It was graced with so much fondness, all for him.

"I love you too. Always and forever".

====================================

I have died every day waiting for you. Darling don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more.

"No," Elijah refused immediately, his voice firm and you knew it would be difficult to reason.

"Love- listen to me-"

"No!" He exclaimed and whipped around to face you, his expression incredulous. "How can I be fine with my own wife being daggered and placed in a miserable coffin right in front of my very eyes?"

"There is no alternative, Elijah," you said, walking closer but he shook his head stubbornly, taking steps back.

"There's always an alternative and you know it. I'll protect you!" He added with a desperate look, making your heart clench. "I swear upon my life".

You sped over to him, placing your palms on his cheeks and he melted underneath your touch. "I know, and that's exactly what I'm worried about".

"We can find another way," his eyes were frantic, darting left and right as he sought a solution. "I'll slaughter them myself," he growled, anger slowly rising in his chest. The witches, those barbarians were the reason that your life was currently threatened. It wasn't as though he hadn't fought their kind before, but this time it was different. The rational part of his brain knew they could not win, and thus daggering you and spreading the rumour of your death was the only solution.

Of course they wouldn't believe it so easily. An original vampire dying out of the blue? It couldn't be possible. But at least it could delay them for a while so they could actually come up with a feasible strategy. That's what Klaus had said.

"You will do no such thing," you said, your voice as firm as him and he scoffed, stepping away to stand in front of the window, his dark eyes penetrating the dark. His mind running at a million miles per second.

You sighed at the Mikaelson stubbornness, something that resided in you too. You stared at his back, contemplating on how to make him see sense. You weren't foolish, you knew that he understood it was their best option. But his heart couldn't bring himself to do it. And how could he? How could he possibly just stand there and watch you be daggered and spend a good few time mourning you too? You were his wife.

You slowly walked towards your husband, your arms wrapping themselves around his waist while you rested your chin on his shoulder. His rigid body relaxed immediately, leaning back into you and covering your hands with his own. The soft material of his blazer brushed against your face as you tilted your head to kiss his jawline, hearing him exhale.

You didn't say anything, he simply understood because his posture stooped a little. His head bowed down while you looked at him, smiling a little on seeing his familiar features that were practically engraved in your memory. A small mark on his forehead, down to his dark eyes decorated by delicate lashes, then to the small mole he had on his left cheek. Your eyes trailed off more, scanning the curve of his nose, to the stubble he had on upon your insistence and down to his beautiful lips.

He truly was a sight to behold.

"Forgive me," you whispered, barely audible. "I know I'm asking a lot from you".

He gently turned around in your arms, placing his own on your waist. "I'm not strong enough for this," he swallowed, his blank exterior fading to reveal the depths of the heartbreak he was feeling.

"Yes you are, my love. You are the strongest person I know and you will get through this. It will all be over in the blink of an eye, before you even know it".

His face only contorted in pain as he pulled you closer, burying his face in your neck. His lips brushed against your skin and he smelled your calming scent, something that had always managed to ground him.

How could he survive then? He would be driven insane, not being able to think straight without you by his side. You were his person, and he was yours. How could his heart keep on beating when it knew that its other half was lying half-dead. It had been three hundred years since your marriage, how was he supposed to live without you for god knew how long? He couldn't. But he had to. Because this was the one way he would know that you'll be safe. The witches would stop at nothing to hunt you, your unique powers had stirred their curiosity to an unimaginable extent.

"I will miss you... immeasurably".

"Oh 'lijah..." You tightened your hold and his heart contracted at the nickname. Who will call him 'lijah?

"Promise me, my heart. Swear to me that you'll come back here, right in my arms. Tell me- tell me that the next time I see you, it will be with you running towards me, your face bearing a smile," his voice cracked and he stopped himself, gulping the thorns that had surrounded his throat.

The couple held each other, bathed by the soft moonlight which poured through their bedroom window. Silent tears streamed down both of their faces as they swayed together, relishing in the tender feeling of having your other heart pressed right next to your own.

And if only they could stop time..

"Elijah," Rebekah's soft voice registered in his brain, but it sounded distant. "Hey," she tried again and crouched down in front of him, sitting on her toes, her heart shattering at the look on her brother's face.

It was impassive as he stared into nothingness, his soul felt hollow, empty. It all felt wrong. He felt wrong that he was alive. It wasn't supposed to be this way. You were not meant to attend the other's funeral. He felt so meaningless that he didn't even realise his sister was crying until he heard her sobs. Yet he remained still, a shell of a man.

It was torture.

There was no other word that could describe his condition. He woke up every day to a cold bed, without your body there to curl beside him. He barely found the strength to get up, wanting to stay sleeping the entire day.

He was destroying himself, and he knew that. His siblings could see it too and they tried their level best to help him a little each day. Sometimes it worked, and at times it backfired badly. He reminded himself every minute that you weren't actually dead, only at rest for a while. The wedding band resting on his finger felt heavy too, as though it could sense the absence of its twin.

Four months. That was how long it had been. And Elijah felt and looked like a different person. His usual impeccable attire appeared out of place, because whenever he straightened his tie, all he could see instead of his reflection was you standing before him and doing it yourself. So he gave up.

This longing.. he hadn't felt this ever before. Every inch of himself craved you, it was indescribable. His eyes that were so used to seeing your face the first thing in the morning for as long as he could remember. His lips that would always twitch up at the mere sight of you and be unable to resist your kisses. His hand feeling empty because he was so accustomed to your fingers slotting into the spaces perfectly. The heart beating inside his chest feeling alone, as it couldn't hear its partner's beats. His neck felt colder than ever, for you weren't there to bury your face in the crook and provide him with warmth. His shoulders felt uncomfortably lighter too, as the familiar head wasn't there to rest upon them.

To keep these emotions at bay he drowned himself in work, running tirelessly to think of ways to solve the problem and bring you back to him.

And as though the gods had decided that he had suffered enough already, the day finally dawned. His siblings didn't tell him, wanting to surprise him just so they could see the familiar light in his eyes that had extinguished, so they could look at the smile adorning his face.

So Rebekah had very cleverly sent him out on an errand which would take quite a long time. You were probably on the verge of waking up and they didn't want him near because he would instantly hear your heartbeat.

Like the good brother he was, Elijah had obediently followed the given instructions though they seemed quite complicated. But the complexities were good, they required his full attention. After the tedious work he went back home, opting to walk instead of speeding up. His eyes surveyed the crowd, lingering on all the couples unconsciously.

He had just entered the compound to the mansion when his ears perked up, picking on a sound that he hadn't heard in the past 6 months. His head snapped up as almost sprinted inside, looking around frantically trying to locate the source.

And there you were, standing all but a mere feet away from him and he felt his breath hitch, a swirl of emotions tumbling out of him as he staggered to a stop. His feet rooted to the ground as he took you in, looking so beautiful with that smile on your face that had him head over heels since day one. Yet he didn't move, he hesitated because there had been a lot of instances where he had imagined you, hallucinated even.

"Love?" He called out, his voice unsteady, uncertain. But it was washed away instantly when you nodded, your smile only widening as you jogged over to him. As though it was second nature his feet took long strides, rendered speechless for once as his arms opened up on their own accord to engulf you.

A disbelieving sound left him at the feeling of your skin, soft and smooth under his firm grip.

"Hey 'lijah," you spoke in his ear and the word resonated loudly until he was consumed by your voice. You were really here. Christ you were here.

And he wasted not a second more before cupping your face and smashing his lips against yours, desperation and longing clear in his actions. He couldn't get enough, wanting to make up for the lost time so badly. He kissed you furiously, deep affection lacing his caress that had your heart growing with the amount of love.

He pulled away rather reluctantly, his eyes hungrily searching for yours. Moving over every detail of your face that he so loved. A small laugh was heard as he embraced you once again, closing his eyes tightly and holding you even tighter.

"Liked the surprise, brother?" Kol asked and you looked above Elijah's shoulders to see the siblings walk over, their faces resembling similar emotions.

The man in question didn't reply, only turning his head slightly to press a kiss under your jaw.

"Come on now stop hogging her! I missed my sister too you know?" The youngest spoke and this time Elijah did pull away, surprised to find his cheeks wet.

Kol hurried over to take his place, hugging you close. He had missed you immensely, as had Klaus and Rebekah who followed his lead.

"I'm sorry love," Klaus, the last one to hug you said. It had been his idea, and he had despised himself for bringing it up every day.

"Not your fault, Nik. You saved my life," you reassured him, ruffling his hair and grinning when he didn't swat your hands away like he always did.

"Now go console my dear brother before he daggers the rest of us for keeping you away once again".

You chuckled and looked at your husband who rolled his eyes at the comment, "I will gladly take on the offer, Niklaus. Now if you'll please give me my wife back. Now".

Klaus all but pushed you in his arms and he snakes an arm around your waist before speeding up to your room.

"I see someone has missed me," you said playfully, running your fingers through his hair and smiling on seeing him close his eyes.

"You have absolutely no idea just how much".

"I thought maybe you had found someone new, you know someone in place of me," you said matter of factly but he could hear the obvious humour underlying the statement.

"Found someone new?" He raised an amused eyebrow and leaned closer, your noses brushing. "You were my first love, darling. Always have been. There's no way in the entire universe that I'll ever feel what I felt for you with anyone else. I fell for you before I even knew what love was. It has always been you.. it will always be you".

"It will always be you too. My heart has been yours since the day we met, and I would very much like for it to be with you".

He smiled, a genuine smile that hadn't appeared on his face for a long time. The small dimple that you adored peeking out.

"I love you, Elijah Mikaelson".

"I love you too, my heart. Always and forever".

====================================

Time stands still, beauty and all she is. I will be brave. I will not let anything take away, what's standing in front of me. Every breath, every hour has come to this. One step closer.

These past few weeks had been a constant struggle, with trouble knocking on their doors every other day. The Mikaelsons could barely sleep, paranoid that something bad may happen at night. This was one of the disadvantages of being immortal. You made too many enemies to last a lifetime.

Amidst the chaos you and Elijah had barely had time for yourselves. Always having to go out for some work and return home late. Though you slept together, you didn't have any alone time.

Which was why this rare quiet morning, Elijah was busy staring at his wife who slept soundly beside him. Your legs tangled with him, head resting near his shoulder with him arms around your middle. He had returned home late and you were already knocked out, having had limited sleep the past days. Even in sleep, your body had found a way to snuggle up to his.

He slowly moved back a little to see your face properly, his fingers drawing random patterns on your back. He then slid his palm under your shirt, heating up your back. Your skin had always been rather cold while he was constantly warm. A perfect balance really.

He continued rubbing slow circles, not worrying about you waking up considering you were a heavy sleeper. He stilled his actions when you stirred, inhaling deeply before cuddling closer making him let out a low chuckle. He propped himself up on his elbow, his other hand pushing back the stray hair from your face. You looked utterly beautiful, he thought to himself, slightly awed.

A thought came swimming in his mind. It had been a long time since he had taken you out on a nice date. Maybe in a nice restaurant, or simply to watch movies. He couldn't remember the last time you had gone and he frowned, not liking it at all and cursing himself internally. He decided to take you for dinner, in a cozy little restaurant that you both loved. Then he'll get you the ice cream that was your favorite, you haven't had it recently either.

Forming a short plan in his mind he sat straight, stretching his neck and was about to get up when you grabbed his hand, making him turn as a result.

"Stay," you mumbled, eyes half closed. You couldn't see his face properly due to your sleep induced brain but heard his laugh as he shuffled closer again, settling under the covers.

"Morning, my love," his deep, raspy voice greeted you. He had always been the early bird whereas you were the complete opposite. A fact that he knew all too well.

You made a disgruntled sound, pressing your face against his chest and shaking your head in disagreement, "Good night. It's time to sleep".

"I have no intentions of waking you up".

"Good because I would not have hesitated to stab you otherwise. But you better consider sleeping here with me now".

"As you wish, my lady," he murmured, pulling the blanket on both of your bodies and bringing his arms back to their original place. He continued to press small kisses on your hairline, his touch soothing and your eyes fluttered close. Before you knew it, you were deep asleep making him shake his head fondly.

And as soon as his eyes shut, there was a loud yell of his name making him groan. You shifted too, slowly waking up as you had clearly heard the shout. Elijah saw you and cursed under his breath, his expression murderous as he flung the sheets off of him and stormed out of the room.

"What is wrong with you, Niklaus?" He growled, his stare burning hole in Klaus' head. But the fire quickly disappeared when his brother explained the situation. Rebekah was missing and they had a clear idea of exactly who had taken her.

Elijah clenched his jaw, fury radiating from his and you quickly rushed out, having freshened up while they had their conversation.

"When are we leaving?" You asked, rolling up your sleeves with and your face impassive.

"Now".

That was all the confirmation you needed as you sped to the car, getting in the driver seat while the two followed. You drove fast, not caring about the speed limit as the only thing running in your heads was getting Rebekah out.

And oh god it wasn't easy at all.

Finding her took such a long time and fighting off the witches who always wanted revenge on the Mikaelsons was exhausting. By the time you were done, or you thought you were it was late evening.

You snapped the neck of the last person before plunging a dagger straight through the heart, blood splattering out to paint your shirt and throat. A tired sigh left your lips and you sat down on a bench, leaning against the wall and briefly resting your eyes. Elijah and Klaus had gone the opposite way, leaving you to deal with these handful of people.

And just as you thought the threat was over, an arrow zoomed through hitting you squarely in the chest. You hissed, doubling over to quickly pull it out and making eye contact with your attacker, recognising him to Maverick, the insatiable werewolf who had allied with the witches. "You missed".

He only smirked before shooting another one for which you were prepared for and snatched the arrow before it hit you, breaking it effectively. "Missed again".

This time his jaw ticked and he narrowed his eyes before storming towards you and a fight soon ensued. Both fighting ferociously against each other. You gained the upper hand, about to place a dagger through his chest but he turned you around, wasting no time in biting your neck.

You groaned loudly, feeling the sting of the bite as your senses became cloudy. Werewolf bite was lethal to a vampire, you weren't sure whether it would have the same effect on an Original or not but you didn't want to take any chances.

You regained control and flipped him, pretending to stab him from behind but instead speeding to stand in front of him and plunging his heart out, gritting your teeth and not blinking an eye at the blood flowing out as he collapsed. You threw the organ down, delivering a good kick to his side only to let out the adrenaline pumping inside of you.

"Can't get a break for five minutes," you seethed, sudden anger coursing through your blood as you punched the wall, almost shattering it completely. Your knuckles were bruised in an instant but you paid no mind, not even feeling the pain.

"Love," your husband's voice penetrated through the anger. You turned out, your expression wild and Elijah's face drowned with concern. He has seen you covered in blood before, looking murderous but there was a different, mad glint in your eyes. "Hey it's over now," he approached cautiously, taking deliberate steps. He extended his hand, gauging your reaction before placing it on your shoulder.

Your chest expanded as you took a deep breath before letting it out and he saw your eyes go back to normal. "Oh hey," you murmured, leaning back against the wall.

His frown deepened, "Are you okay? Talk to me, what happened?" He gestured towards the man lying on the floor.

"Werewolf," was all you answered, already beginning to walk out. "Can we go home now, please?"

"Yes of course..." He trailed off before following you out. "We found Rebekah, Niklaus took her home. She is unharmed".

You nodded, appearing strangely distracted as images began playing in your brain like a movie. You ignored them, focusing on walking straight but a sharp pain shot through your head making you stumble and crouch down.

Elijah had caught you quickly, worry seeping onto his features as he looked at your face that was scrunched up in pain. You let out a shout, clutching your temple and shutting your eyes hoping for it to go away.

"What's wrong? Sweetheart please tell me, I- What's happening?" He placed you on the floor gently, kneeling next to you and holding your face in his hands, trying to get your attention.

"It hurts 'lijah," you yelled and grabbed your hair aggressively. "Make it stop... Make it stop!"

"Tell me darling," desperation was clear in his voice as he searched for a solution. "I need you to tell me what's happening so I can help you".

"My head," you whimpered and grasped his shirt, resting against him as tears flowed down your cheek. The images had turned into certain memories, making you relive every horrible moment of your life. "It feels like it's going to split open I- I wanna go home".

"I'll take you, we're going there right now yeah? I just need you to stay with me. Can you do that? Stay with me, love, keep your eyes open!" He insisted, emotion wrecking his beautiful face as he bit his wrist and brought it to your lips. "Drink, maybe this will help".

You shakily grabbed his arm to drink the blood, it felt nice and your head started clearing making hunger intensify and you kept on going for more. Elijah merely watched, trying his best to pull his hand away because you had had more than enough.

"I feel better," you smiled weakly and stood up straight with his help. "That really did he-" your legs gave out and you collapsed for the second time. Your eyes appeared distant, foggy as though you weren't mentally present.

Fear trapped Elijah's heart as he shook your shoulders and tapped your cheek, trying everything to have your attention. And that's when his eyes fell to your neck, particularly on the skin that had become bloody around the bite mark.

"No," was all he uttered before hoisting you up in his arms, his steps panicked as he sped over to your car and buckled you up in the passenger seat. He didn't like the way your head lolled to the side as though there was no life in you. He quickly got in, starting the engine and dialing Klaus' number.

"Where are you?" Was the only question he asked. "This is no time for banter, Niklaus I asked one simple question. Where. Are. You?. Good stay there and don't you step foot out of the house or I swear to do something terrible".

He ended the call and glanced at you, noticing the beads of sweat dotting your forehead as you shifted uncomfortably. He turned the conditioning to maximum but that didn't seem to help. "Hold on for me, love. We're almost there, yeah? Nothing will happen to you, not on my watch".

Faster than you had arrived, Elijah brought you back. He unbuckled the seatbelt and you climbed out. His palm resting on your head to prevent it from hitting the hood of the car.

"Klaus!" He shouted and both him and Rebekah appeared in the living room. Their faces dropping on seeing your condition as Elijah laid you down on the sofa, sweeping your sticky hair away from your face that was drenched in sweat.

"Help her," was all he could manage but Klaus understood as he bit his wrist without hesitation, supporting your head from below and placing his hand against your mouth.

"Go on, love. You'll be cured in a minute".

You barely registered his voice and did as you were told while your husband watched on with apprehension. His face was so downcast as he watched your trembling form. He hated to see you like this, so feeble, a contrast to your usual strong figure. His hands shivered by his side, feeling helpless as he watched you lie down.

"She'll be fine," Klaus addressed him and gave him a curt nod before disappearing into his room.

Rebekah was sitting beside you, holding your hand while you regained consciousness. "Take care of her, Elijah. Call if you need anything". Saying so she squeezed his shoulder and went upstairs.

"Let's get you to bed," Elijah whispered and hooked one arm under your shoulders and the other beneath your knees, easily lifting you up and cradling your body to his chest. He reached your bedroom in a second, placing your still asleep body on the bed. He stared at you for a while before removing his blazer and taking a clean cloth and a bowl of water to clean you up. He sat close to you and wiped your face first, trying to be as gentle as possible with the dried blood.

What had this day turned into.. In the morning he was thinking of taking his wife on a small date, and how here he was tending to her wounds. Life loved to mess with him.

You turned your face when he was cleaning your neck and he sensed you were waking up. Your eyes fluttered open and you saw your husband, lines of worry scarring his face.

"How're you feeling?" He questioned softly, unable to meet your eyes as he resumed dabbing at your wounds that had almost healed.

"A little dizzy, tired".

He nodded, getting up to take a blood bag from the mini fridge and handing it to you, "You must be hungry".

You obeyed and sipped in silence, not failing to notice the way his body was tense and his face hard. He also kept his gaze strictly on your arms.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing".

"Elijah".

"Darling".

"Elijah," you repeated again, taking the cloth from him and holding his hands instead. "I haven't been your wife for three hundred and twenty years for nothing, you know".

He fumbled with your fingers, not sure on how to reply. "I.. I didn't want the day to go like this. During the morning I realised that we had not had much time to ourselves lately, too caught up in other works. I wanted to take you out for dinner, a small date somewhere. Just so we could spend some time together at least. But look how that turned out," he said bitterly. "All I wanted was one quiet day with my wife, and look at you".

"Oh sweetheart," you caressed his cheek with your thumb, a smile on your lips. "Let's go then".

He raised an eyebrow which turned into disbelief once he noticed that you weren't joking. "You can barely stand on your own feet. And you want to go out on a date".

"Yes," was all you said and gingerly stood up, taking some clothes and heading towards the shower. "I'll be done in fifteen. And I'm rather famished, dear husband so you better choose a good place".

He could only chuckle and roll his eyes with extreme fondness at your antics. Leave it to you to agree for a date after being mauled.

The warm water felt like absolute heaven as you scrubbed off the dirt. You were done quick enough and decided on a sweater of Elijah's paired with regular jeans.

He was already waiting in the living room, having opted for a casual blue shirt and jeans. "You're crazy, have I ever told you that?" He laced your fingers together and started walking.

"Might've mentioned it a couple of times. Also what fun is it to always play safe. I bet you wouldn't have fancied me if I was of that type".

"I don't care, I will always fall for you".

A blush quickly creeped over your neck and you slapped his shoulder, earning a bright laugh. "I'm glad to see you haven't lost your charm yet".

The restaurant he had chosen was a cozy place. And the smell that came from it made your mouth water immediately. "Goodness I love you so much".

"Why thank you".

"I was talking about the chef," you retorted, grinning like a maniac and quickly walking inside.

He caught up to you not even a second later. And just as you had opened the door, he grabbed your waist and pulled you flat against his chest. That little smirk tugged at his lips which made your heart skip a beat while your own mouth parted. He leaned in closer, teasing you badly that he was about to kiss. But instead he changed his angle and placed a soft peck on your cheek. "We'll see about what you just said later on. Your lips won't utter a name that isn't mine, I'll make sure of it".

Now it was his turn to smile broadly as you stood shell shocked.

The dinner was a fantastic affair, obviously since your husband had impeccable taste when it came to food, clothing and of course, women. You were satisfied at the end but were surprised when he led you to a new room instead of the exit.

"Where are we goi- Oh".

It was a dancefloor, with dim lighting of candles all around the place and soft music playing on the speakers. It was also very empty.

"May I have this dance, my love?"

You almost giggled like a little school girl being asked out by her crush. But it was just how he made you feel all the time. You accepted his hand, interlocking your fingers together and placing the other on his shoulder. He danced to the rhythm, twirling you around whenever he felt like it and just making you feel as if you were the only woman in the entire world.

You laughed pleasantly when he dipped you down gracefully and pulled you closer again, his face bearing a small grin as well. It was always a treat to see him carefree like this, the only emotion on his face being pure and genuine love.

"Thank you for this," he told you when you rested your head on his shoulders and his hands followed to be placed on your waist, still leading the dance. "I know you're tired and would've preferred to sleep".

"Elijah, anywhere with you is everywhere I want to be. I wouldn't miss it because of some fatigue".

The huge twitch of his lips that followed later made you stare for a second. It wasn't always that he got this goofy smile, and that's when you knew that this night meant a lot to him. And you were so glad to have made the right decision.

"I adore you".

You only laughed, giving him a soft, languid kiss that said everything that had been left unspoken.

====================================

I have died everyday waiting for you. Darling don't be afraid, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more. And all along I believed I would find you. Time has brought your heart to me, I have loved you for a thousand years. I'll love you for a thousand more.

It wasn't always that you interacted with the other vampires in town, mostly because Klaus had always kept you on your toes with his plans.

But today was a rather peaceful day. Caroline had been the one to ask you if you'd like to have a girl's night with them. You had been surprised but had conveyed a yes, wanting to have a change. She had been polite to ask for Rebekah too but you laughed knowing that your dear sister wouldn't go six feet near Elena Gilbert. You had also promised to bring the finest of wines from your husband and Klaus' rather wonderful collection.

You picked some casual clothes, one of your gorgeous shirts tucked into a nice pair of jeans with a leather jacket on top. It was your go to fit almost every night out, your priority being comfort.

The door to your bedroom clicked open and in stepped Elijah, shaking off his coat when his eyes found you standing in front of the mirror and brushing your hair.

"Going somewhere?" He asked, standing behind you as he loosened his tie, removing the material.

"A girls night out," you answered and were about to place a necklace around your neck but he took it from your fingers.

"Allow me," he whispered as he held the chain. You pushed your hair to one side and he clasped the hook, his breath fanning your skin.

"Thank you," you smiled and reached up to kiss his cheek, his stubble scratching you in the process.

His hands kept you in place, not wanting to depart from you. "Stay safe, love. I'll miss you".

You couldn't help it as laughter bubbled in your throat, god you loved this man to death. "That's sweet, husband," you squished his cheeks as he rolled his eyes. If it was anyone but his wife, the person would've had their neck snapped for even getting too close, much less touching him.

He watched as you left, blowing a small kiss and smiling at the way you blushed a little before thinking of reading a book.

"There's my favourite Original!" Caroline immediately brought you into a hug as soon as you stepped inside making you tighten the hug. Out of all the vampires, she was the one you liked the most.

"And she has brought the booze too!" Bonnie added and gave you a side hug, you held the small but powerful witch in deep admiration. She had sacrificed a lot.

You were still in the hallway when your phone rang and your face scrunched in surprise at the name. "Hey, what's wrong?"

"Just wanted to make sure you reached safely," came your husband's deep voice.

"We're not going to bite her Elijah!" Caroline screamed from a distance and he chuckled, having heard her clearly.

"Oh believe me your bodies would be lying on the floor before you had the chance," he spoke and you were glad none of them heard it as you scolded him.

"Sorry," you could see the small pout on his face as he apologised and how could you ever be angry.

"I have to go now," you told him and heard a groan in response. "The girls will shoot me if I make them wait another minute".

"Have fun and... Come home quickly please".

"I will promise. Love you," you said and hung up, pausing to see the three girls standing with their arms crossed and smirks on their faces.

"How is he such a simp after literal centuries?" Elena inquired with a disbelieving laugh as you settled in the living room.

"I honestly don't know," you said truthfully.

"I mean he can't stay away from you at all! It's cute actually," she grinned and you just brushed her off. It was how Elijah had always been.

"Less boys talk and more focus on the drinks please," Caroline interrupted and handed you a shot.

You barely kept track of time as conversations spiralled one after the other. It felt good, unusual but so nice to be able to have a normal night with your friends. Worry didn't even cross your mind as you laughed wholeheartedly, enjoying the many gossips the girls shared from school. They all asked you innumerous questions, all wanting your advice on every tiny thing and you were more than happy to give the same. You felt a small bundle of happiness after noticing that they regarded you as an older sister, someone they could be themselves with and share their problems with.

Your group was soon joined by the Salvatore brothers who greeted you.

"Fancy seeing my famous Mikaelson at my house," Damon threw that signature smirk of his.

"An also very taken Mikaelson," Stefan chided in receiving a scoff from his brother. "You won't live to see another day if you tried anything".

"Must you always be so pleasant," Damon smiled sweetly before frowning as he clearly remembered the time when he had flirted with you unknowingly and had his neck almost snapped by Elijah.

"Seeing as you all are here, shall we go?" Elena asked and everyone nodded. You all had plans to hit the club, there was a live band performing too.

And as you entered the nightclub, you were hit by the loud sound of music and flashing lights. The energy had quickly taken over you as you raised your arms up and danced to the music.

The girls followed your lead while the boys made a beeline for the bar. You took Bonnie's hand and swayed with her, hands in the air as you let go without a care in the world. Stefan tapped your shoulder and offered you a glass of whiskey which you downed in one gulp.

You had lost count of the amount of drinks that were currently in your system but the way you felt light-headed was proof that there were too many. It was quite hard for vampires to get drunk but if they consumed way more than their regular quantity, the symptoms started to show.

You definitely had a lot, lot more because you could barely stand straight. Stefan noticed your swaying body and held your shoulders to balance you and led you to the bar, making you sit.

"Thanks Stefan," you murmured, and before he could stop you, you downed another glass.

"Yeah no that's enough for you," he took the empty glass and placed it far away, ensuring that you wouldn't ask for a refill. "I really think you should go home now".

"What's the fun in that?" You frowned, and your eyes lit up when Caroline slumped down next to you.

"You're done barbie," Damon grunted as he wrestled a bottle of bourbon from her hand making her pout. "There's our cue to go home. You want me to drop you, Original Wife?" The nickname was barely heard as you rested your head on your arms, eyes closing with exhaustion. "I take that as a yes".

"Or should we call Elijah instead?" Stefan asked with a little hesitation but Damon immediately agreed and so he made the call.

"Stefan. To what do I owe this pleasure at pray tell, 2 in the morning?" Came Elijah's remark.

"Your wife is half asleep in the club," Damon snatched the phone only to have some fun. So being her very good friend, should I personally escort her home or are you coming?"

He was silent before replying, "I will be there," and hanging up.

"What?" Damon asked the look that his brother was giving him. "I didn't do anything," he said making Stefan shake his head as he waited beside you, keeping an eye on Elena and Bonnie while Damon took Caroline home.

Elijah arrived not more than 5 minutes later, looking as impeccable as ever in a simple shirt and jeans. He spotted Stefan and made his way towards the younger Salvatore.

"That was quick," Stefan said, standing up.

"I happened to be nearby," he answered and his eyes found your figure sitting on the barstool, playing with the ring on your finger. "Thank you for looking out for her, I'll take it from here". He walked towards you and one look at your face told him that you were clearly drunk. As soon as he came in your sight, your lips stretched in a wide smile and you threw yourself at him.

"Elijah!" You exclaimed and hugged him tightly, almost crushing him because of your grip.

"Shall we go home now, love?" He asked softly, his expression amused as you nodded and refused to let go of him when you began walking.

"I missed you," you mumbled in his neck, pressing kisses all over the exposed skin.

"As did I," he pulled you closer by the waist, his breath hitching when you bit a sensitive spot. He tried to ignore the feeling and directed you inside the car before seating himself behind the wheel.

The journey home was spent in silence until you broke it, "You look handsome".

"Do I now?" He glanced at you before his eyes flitted back to the road.

You nodded seriously, "But not as good as my husband does. He's a very handsome man".

Elijah barely managed to conceal his laughter, your situation was much worse than he thought. "Then you must be lucky to have him".

"Oh yes certainly. He's also my best friend, and knows everything about me. I love him a lot, even after all these years".

"He loves you too, a lot. And I know that he's very fortunate to have you as his wife".

Your lack of response made it sure that you had fallen asleep. Right on time too as he was just pulling over to park the car. He was as gentle as possible in getting you out and holding you close to his chest, a sudden fondness rising in his chest as he looked at you sleeping so peacefully in his arms. He was quick to lay you on the bed, taking off your shoes too while also changing into sweatpants and a t-shirt.

"Elijah," you mumbled sleepily, squinting your eyes to see him and groaning loudly as your head throbbed a little.

"Water," he handed you the glass as you sat up. You gulped it all down.

"God how much did I drink," you rubbed your temple before letting out a sigh when he pulled you in his embrace, tucking your head under his chin.

"Apparently a lot," his chest vibrated as he spoke and ran his fingers through your hair, carefully untangling it while also soothing your headache. "His other hand was placed on your waist protectively, rubbing circles on the skin.

"What were you doing awake at this hour?" You questioned, listening to his steady heartbeat. "Damon could've dropped me home".

"I couldn't sleep and decided to go on a drive".

"Everything's okay right?" You lifted your head, looking in his dark eyes to see them showing nothing but affection.

He smiled a little and pressed his lips to yours and just like that any thought you had simply evaporated as you focused on him. "Everything is fine," he said and shifted to lie down completely, not letting go of you and instead holding you closer.

"I love you," you spoke in the quietness of the night. Your body molded into his perfectly and he warmed you immediately. "More than anything".

"I love you too, darling," he kissed your forehead and your heart skipped a beat. He lingered for a few seconds, knowing the intimacy of the moment. "Always and forever".

====================================

This was quite a long one and I sincerely hope that you enjoyed it! I'm also a little proud of this so would really appreciate it if you show some love <3

[jaggedamethyst]

circuit breaker 🔬🌌 (part one)

tutor!jayce talis x reader, modern college au

content: reader is forced to take gen ed classes in order to graduate college. this unfortunately includes physics for which you desperately need a tutor for...jayce talis happens to need community service and is available to help. (references to adhd/neurodivergence in this chapter, that’s all)

notes: hiii. as i am on my indefinite break from golden boy, i wanted to start something else bc the yearn for jayce content can only be filled as long as i work to preserve him myself... so here’s my first official series!! double note, while this is modern, i still want to keep hints and references to the show/characters so they’re believable! so if you see viktor talking in a way that seems unnatural with dialogue, its just my smarty pants bf being his smart self with vast vocabulary. 🤍

word count: 1.5k

series masterlist here

。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆　　 。·:*:·ﾟ★,。·:*:·ﾟ☆

The absolute worst part of college is being forced to take the general education classes simply to graduate. You were an arts major, there was no reason for you to be cramming your brain with math equations so many years after high school—and yet here you were. Unfortunately, you waited until later in your university career to take on the required course load, and now you were stuck in one of the only classes with availability that worked with your schedule—physics. The thought of the class alone made your head hurt. The only upside was having it with a friend, albeit much more skilled at the subject, Viktor was always welcome company. 

“I hate these weekly quizzes, I genuinely cannot afford to fail another one.” 

Viktor chuckled, “The subject matter isn’t that difficult…” 

“We can’t all be geniuses, Viktor.” 

“Yes, some of us are more skilled than others, I’d say.” He moved to gather his books, the class having ended. 

You mirrored his action, packing your bag as you spoke to him. “Natural skill or not, this shit is actually dumb…makes me feel dumb.” 

“You are not dumb,” he reassured you, “It can be a lot to comprehend.” 

You shuffled through the aisle, following behind Viktor as he moved toward the exit. “It’s these gen ed classes…why do I need to understand physics for liberal arts. Granted, I know the school is more tech based…but I changed my major! I should be free of the shackles of math by now.” You wiped a hand over your face, clearly exasperated. 

You matched Viktor’s steps, picking up a bit to open the door for him. The slight breeze of the outside air brushed over you—cooling the heat that you didn’t realize was there. A breath left you, exhaling the bubbling rage in you. 

Viktor reached a hand toward your shoulder, grasping it with a firm encouragement. “You will conquer physics. Natural skill…or not.” He smiled again, a teasing tone on his voice. 

“Viktor!” You swatted his hand away, “I hate you! Could you at least offer a solution? These quizzes are literally every week. What’s the point of checking my comprehension if I know I’m gonna fail-“ 

“Listen, you will not fail. In fact,” he paused, “I have a solution for this little conflict.” 

“The solution being?” 

He stopped walking, an obvious look on his face, “Get a tutor.” 

A scoff, “Yeah right. I’m not in middle school. I don’t need a tutor, Viktor.” You started walking again, “Besides, why can’t you just help me—you’re all the tutor I need!” 

“I have quite a bit on my plate this term already. I have two labs, recitations, and work-“ 

“Which is just code for find time to see Sky, got it.” 

He didn’t reply to that, not directly. But the way he blushed and looked away was indication enough. Viktor explained before that he and Sky have known each other practically their whole lives. They always saw each other around; the fact that they ended up at the same school was purely by fate, or chance, Viktor would say. That was, despite the relatively high probability with there being so few state schools. 

He changed the subject, leading you across the street. “I know someone who would be willing to help. He mentioned needing community service.” 

“Fine, I guess…” 

“Good, because we’re here.” 

You looked up, the student resource center labeled clearly in front of you. The prospect of walking in was already daunting. You loved independence and it often came at the expense of feeling incompetent when you had to ask for help. You confided in Viktor about that before. He figured the best way was to just show up, not giving you the opportunity to get yourself worked up and find an excuse to not go. 

He opened the door, tilting his head towards the inside. “You got this.” 

You shook your head, the idea making you nauseous. He returned the motion, this time shaking his head. You can do this. 

It took a second, but you finally walked in, Viktor slightly on your trail. “He should be here, he told me he would be.” He continued as you nodded silently, “Oh, there he is.” 

His back was to you, speaking to a woman he seemed to be friendly with. His shoulders were wide, making her barely visible to you from this angle—but she was undoubtedly stunning. You couldn’t help but acknowledge the way they so enthusiastically spoke. You didn’t want to interrupt, that would be embarrassing, torturous, even. Instead, you turned to the desk, eyeing the receptionist. She seemed to be close to your age…which somehow made you even more nervous—gosh. 

“Hi…” You cleared your throat, “Hi, I wanted to ask about tutoring? Like for physics?” 

Viktor nodded behind you, proud of the seemingly small gesture. He knew this was actually an immense step for you. 

The receptionist greeted you back, “We do have physics tutoring available! There are a few student volunteers, but we usually assign according to those with a more free schedule…” She looked to her left, pointing to the QR code that faced toward you. “You can register here, it’s fairly quick and someone…” she locked onto the man across from her, still mid conversation. “Someone should be able to help you get started today actually…Jayce!” 

You turned to see the man pause his conversation, a brow raising at his name being called. Recognition flashed in your direction as well, “Oh hey, Viktor.” 

“Hello, Jayce.” 

The man walked up to the counter, a more annoyed tone and body language accompanied him, then. It wasn’t genuine, but rather one out of familiarity, like he and the receptionist had known each other a while. It was quite jovial, actually. “What do you want, Cait?” 

She rolled her eyes at that, “Someone needs a tutor,” she smiled at you before looking to him with a grimace, “You’re a tutor, correct?” 

He shrugged, “I need community service.” 

“Great, so you two are a match, then.” 

Your phone suddenly became rather interesting—the simple intake form immediately became numerous pages long and excessively tedious. You felt his eyes on you, though, and saw a hand out towards you in your peripheral. “Nice to meet you…Jayce.” 

You looked up finally, reaching to shake his outstretched hand. The only thing that came to you was your name—first and last, simple. 

He half smiled, echoing your reply, “Jayce Talis. I like the formality.” He chuckled, dropping your hand. 

You looked back silently at Viktor, a sort of terror on your face. He spoke then, “I should be going. Shouldn’t these two have their introductory meeting now?” He observed your twisted facial expression, looking towards the desk for a reply. 

She nodded, “Great idea! It’s a short one, just getting to know one another and scheduling for later. You can use that room right there,” she looked at the computer in front of her for confirmation, “It should be empty for a few more minutes!” She motioned her hands for you two to hurry along. The man, Jayce…Jayce Talis…walked over and spoke to the woman he’d been talking to before. You couldn’t hear them, but observed the way he rubbed her arm before reaching for a hug. You tried not to stare, but you weren’t entirely familiar with the resource center and he was supposed to be leading you, you thought. 

You trailed behind Jayce, turning back to see Viktor. He stood with a hand on his cane, the other with a thumbs up to you. You nodded, rubbing your hands awkwardly at your sides. You watched as Jayce opened the door, stepping back to let you in first. That was nice. You held a tight smile, a pleasantry you’d grown accustomed to displaying in uncomfortable situations such as this one. 

Both of you sat down, a brief silence filling the room. Jayce spoke first, “So what brings you to tutoring?” 

You swallowed, “I am not great at physics…I’m pretty bad at it actually…and Viktor said you could help.” 

He nodded, “You two are friends?” 

“Yeah, we met a while back. How do you know each other?” 

“Lab partners, same major, rest is history.” 

“Right…” A huff from you and the shuffle of Jayce reaching in his pocket were the only sounds in the room. 

“So,” he scrolled on his phone, “You noted you have a hard time focusing. Is it just this class?” 

“Not just physics, no. I have a hard time paying attention in general. Bad memory, disorganized brain, the works. Makes retaining the information really hard as you can imagine.”

“I get that, but we can work on that…find things that help you remember a bit better…make it more interesting.” 

You could only blink as a response. This was the first time you could recall, besides with close friends, that someone didn’t make you feel extremely weird for not being able to stay focused. You often skipped from one topic to the next, forgetting your starting point. Conversations would float away from you, or you’d get too emotionally invested. People would call you loud, random, even. You appreciated that Jayce replied simply, concisely, offering a solution. Sure, it was his job…kind of…but it felt pretty good. 

“Thank you.” 

“Sure.” 

He went over a few more questions with you—referring to the intake form you’d filled out on your phone. In no time, you had set a meeting time for the following day. 

Both of you stood, collecting your bags. 

“See you tomorrow?” 

“Tomorrow.” 

part two

[auxiliaryslinky]

10 HELLENIC POLYTHEISM JOURNAL/REFLECTION PROMPTS, from yours truly - long prompts edition

ᶦᵐ ˢᵒʳʳʸ ᶠᵒʳ ᵛᵃⁿᶦˢʰᶦⁿᵍ ᶦ ʷᵃˢ ᵉⁿʲᵒʸᶦⁿᵍ ᵐʸ ᵛᵃᶜᵃᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵖˡˢ ᵈᵒⁿᵗ ᵇᵘʳⁿ ᵐᵉ ᵃᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵖʸʳᵉ

Icarus was told never to fly too close to the sun, but he, too, was reminded not to fly so near the sea. We all have had instances where we soared too high and fell grandly. But have you been so afraid to take a risk that it became the reason for your downfall or regret?

Even if you do not worship or actively practice with them, which deity, in terms of what they represent, their values and virtues, and even in personality, do you think you share the most in common with? Or alternatively, which one do you have the most affinity for?

In terms of hubris, man is blinded in two ways. Do you see so much of what you have that you forget you are lacking, or do you only see the absence of what you do not own, so that you cannot cherish what is there?

Spear to your throat, answer me: aimlessly yearn for the one who has long vanished, or slowly grow resentful of the one who stayed but changed?

Love exists beyond romantic and sexual connotations. Which of the seven forms do you find you embody the most? Which love is the one you give most wholeheartedly to others?

Xenia, the virtue of hospitality, is not merely to show excellent social graces, but as a mode of building community, care, and compassion for fellow man. How do you honor the spirit of xenia in your daily life? How do others do it for you?

Do you believe that the essence of the gods exists in every person you meet, that some people exist like mortal effigies of godly faces? If so, has any particular individual struck you or given you the energy of a particular deity? In what way?

Create a playlist for a particular epithet or title of a god you worship, focusing on that specific quality highlighted by the title given to the deity. For each song, either A) highlight a set of lyrics that connect it to the deity's epithet, or B) explain in no more than two sentences why this song was selected and added.

Out of the four cardinal virtues of Prudence (practical discernment), Justice (lawful uprightness), Temperance (conscious moderation), and Fortitude (resilient courage), which ones do you feel you have the most mastery over? And which ones do you feel you must further improve on?

SURPRISE FANDOM QUESTION! Name a famous or renowned person (deceased or currently living) that you think might quite literally just be a god hiding amongst the mortals and has done quite a good job at it thus far.

that's it for now, 10 long prompts to get your gears working!! You can recommend some prompt themes in my inbox, and if I've got the time or motivation, I can probably work on them, but I cannot guarantee constant online presence. Blessed day, have fun!!

-thio of (@auxiliaryslinky and @zineovator)

[raemirs]

What is special about SifLoop to you?

OH BOY WHAT A LOADED QUESTION!!! to be honest if i explained everything we would be here for 2 weeks and also that's a lot of spoons that i dont have so. i will offer a heavily, HEAVILY abridged bullet pointed version.

-oh, that one person who will understand you more than anyone else in the world. that person who is always on the same wavelength as you, who understands why you do all the things you do, who you never have to explain anything to, who you can simply look in the eyes and have telepathic conversations with... they are that person, to each other <3 on virtue of being the same person, but still! i have always been a sucker for this type of dynamic due to being socially ostracized as a ND child growing up. i yearned for the longest time to find that one person who i didnt have to explain or hide any of my strange quirks from (i have since found that one person for me, and boy it is sweet!) and i think it's awesome that sifloop can be that person for each other :)

-sifloop as an allegory for self love is not something i explore too often (which is a crime!!! i should explore it more!!!!), but ohhhhh, is it juiiiicy. these goobers deserve to love themselves, but if they can't bring themselves to do it for now, loving the other is a good first step. one of my all-time favorite sifloop fanfics, simple as existing (please please PLEASE read it, it's soooo good) has most of the things i love about this interpretation of sifloop! aghhh... loop taking care of siffrin's body because it was once theirs... ughhghhhhhhhhhhhh im normal im so normal im normal

-you can take sifloop in so many interesting angles! do they love each other in an actual romantic way? is it some form of fucked up self love? does it no longer count as selfcest because they've undergone such different life-altering experiences? is it such a deep emotional bond that it transcends mere romance or platonic love and cannot be described with words? well, no need to fear, because you get to pick! and the dynamic will be guaranteed to be juicy anyhow <3

-mashing the above two bullet points together creates one of my favorite interpretations of sifloop i've seen yet! something something an annoying trait present in yourself becomes endearing when present in someone else you love. something something by learning to love the traits they hate in themselves in the other, sifloop can begin to learn how to love themselves again. by loving the other, they can start to heal. im normal im normal im normal

-as a touch-starved little freak myself i love love love how sifloop are both touch-starved to hell and back because!! they can fix this with each other!!!! make those fuckers hang off each other like wet clothes!!! they will never let go of each other ever again!!! at every possible scenario they will be at least holding hands or something more!!! both of them want so so much touch and they can give this to each other in precisely the way they want!! it's so fucking good!!!

on the flip side, you can take sifloop's craving for touch in an angsty direction as well! again, love how you can take sifloop's dynamics in so many ways and have all of them be just as compelling and correct. i explore this angstier direction in another post of mine <3

-siffrin is really easy and fun to draw and loop being siffrin means i can turn them human and then boom i get to make cute ship art while drawing the little guy i love twice. what a steal! (i've also recently figured out loop's star form and it is quite fun to draw as well hehehe)

-i'm sure there's WAYYYY more i've missed talking about, this is just the stuff that's come to mind first. as you can tell by this short and abridged summary (/sar) of why i love sifloop, i have a normal amount of thoughts about them <3 here's to many more moons of being insane about sifloop!

[tojisun]

Angsty thot on the the ghost x reader x soap blurb;

I've been thinking about the what if Soap did actually reciprocate Ghost's advances? For a moment, he forgets reader. Finally, FINALLY, Soap thinks... until the bliss dies down and he remembers reader and guilt sets in. Ghost's only all too happy to show off to reader. Being affectionate with Johhny, leaving whatever marks were left visible, staking a claim that he won.

Reader, of course, is dismayed and feels betrayed. But how much can she really feel? It fucking sucks, it does, that Ghost doesn't care what she thinks or feels and she wasn't in a committed relationship with Soap. So if they were to pursue a relationship, what can she really do about it?

HOW I AM AFTER READING THIS anon i wanna crawl into your mind and poke around your brain because how could you (ext)

johnny knows he hasn’t been honest with himself lately. that, in the face of ghost’s desires—because nothing less could describe the fire in his lieutenant’s eyes; it’s all so heated and leashed. hungry. aching—he denies himself and pretends he cannot see what is crystal clear.

he pretends that every brushing touch was an accident, that every heavy look was a trick of the light. that the way simon calls his name—johnny, with the ‘y’ dripping from his mouth like honey—was all circumstantial.

friendly. platonic, truly.

but it’s becoming more frequent. more passionate. more territorial.

of course, it was all a matter of when, really, was johnny going to fall. and the answer, apparently, is right now.

his shirt is torn off his body, fatigues falling beside two pairs of boots. warm lips, fever-hot, are on his skin, tracing scalding trails that has him trembling. he feels jittery, bones rattling within his flesh. he feels untethered, floaty. nirvana pinched between his fingers.

then, he falls, body thudding against the mattress. the metal of his bed posts creaks, a gunshot in the silence, and johnny freezes. his mind catching up to his heart.

this isn’t—

simon towers over him, his scarred chest heaving in his ragged breaths. the mask is off, discarded to the floor, and johnny, he—

well.

he sees the man that his soul sings to—cheeks flushed, bright cherries, and eyes dark with yearning. simon looks at him like johnny’s all that matters in the world; like all that he’s fighting to live for is johnny.

johnny feels this bloating in the back of his throat, something in his heart swelling until all he tastes is his breaths. his lips wobble, teeth chattering. they stop at ghost’s tender touch, his callused hand cupping johnny’s cheek.

simon's thumb swipes at the skin just underneath his eyes. his lips, crooked, tug up in a smile. “y’r much too gorgeous, johnny.”

johnny doesn’t know what happened next, only that he was stuffed with a burn that scorches from within and engulfed whole; devoured every way possible until simon's marks—from teeth and just his overall brute strength—took. his throat aches, scratchy, and his skin throbs with the memory of their love-making.

he, well, he wept. he tucked his head on the crook of simon's neck, breathing him in, unable to explain the euphoria simmering in the pit of his stomach.

simon loves him. he desired him every way possible so who wouldn't—

who wouldn't lose themselves?

(johnny thinks of you and the memories blur; what had been fiery passion morphs into something ugly. into something cruel.)

there was something different in ghost's gait—that's the first thing you noticed upon walking into the mess hall. he was more relaxed, more open in a way you have never seen from him before. he even met your eyes as you walk towards their little huddled group, the first time in a while, and you are unable to look away because there was something in his gaze that you couldn't quite place.

it still spoke of danger, of a walled barrier that he firmly put between you two, but it was undiscernible.

still poised, though, for the hunt.

kyle greets you first, kind and gentle, but before you could reply to him, johnny's tugging you away. a protest builds on the tip of your tongue, ready to slip past your chapped lips, but you freeze, feet stumbling as the air is knocked out of your lungs.

"bonnie–"

"oh," you say, a whispered gasp, your eyes unable to drag from the bruises on johnny's neck. not made with unkind intensions, if the teeth mars were any indication.

briefly, you wondered if johnny's met someone else to satiate his desires. if, in your absence, he sought to snuff the burning need from someone else. you've been away for three months, after all, chasing a lead in shanghai and tracking them all the way to tianjin. it must have been too long for johnny too.

(you wonder why your heart twinges at the idea of johnny finding comfort in someone else that isn't you.)

but the thought is doused by an ice-cold realization.

"it's– you know that i–"

"oi, 'tavish," ghost's voice rings from behind you.

you tip your head back just enough to see him, to see with your eyes what must he must have done, but he's back to ignoring you again.

it seemed like now that you've noticed what it was that had him elated, ghost no longer wanted to interact with you. not a word nor a touch. not even a glance.

johnny bites his bottom lip, shoulders hunching into himself.

"i'm sor–"

"i have to go," you say, your voice even sounds foreign to your own ears. "i have to, uhm, to report."

you shuffle away from between them, your palm rising to press onto your chest as though that could truly stop the splintering of your heart. as though your heart was truly wounded and that the pressure could stop the bleeding.

but it aches. dear god, everything aches.

ANON THIS HURT ME SO BAD AND I COULDNT HELP MYSELF FROM RAMBLING IM SORRY!! god im wailing so much like i literally was bug eyed staring at ur ask bc OW??? (btw reader is gn in this ghoap x reader angst)

[lxkeee]

BEGGING FOR A LUCIFER X FEM!READER SMUT ABT HIM EATING READER OUT AFTER SEEING HIM DO THAT GESTURE AT THE LAST EP PLSSSS 🛐🛐🛐🛐 would do anything for that man omfg I'D KILL FOR HIM TO CALL ME GOOD GIRL

genre: plot with some smut ig

warnings: cunnilingus, oral (fem receiving), soft dom! Lucifer, thigh marking, praising (both receiving), pet names (love, darling, sweetheart), whiney Lucifer.

notes: I don't do porn without plot so yes... There's a little bit of plot to this 💀 it is quite long as they're not having sex but making love soo you better bet he's going to take his time with herr... This one is hella long btw.

additional notes: banners are made by cafekitsune, reader wears gloves and I can't explain what kind but the kind Child/tartaglia wears from genshin impact. Also, I don't know if this will be good as it's been a long time since I've written smut 💀

tags: @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkitten (I can't tag you </3) @brithedemonspawn @dinawss @froggybich

“Good luck kiddo.” Lucifer said to his daughter before eventually slowly teleporting away from the hotel and back to the palace. His body manifested on the arm chair that's in his room and his shoulders sagged a bit. A heavy sigh left his lips.

“She grew up so fast but I still can't help but get worried...” he muttered underneath his breath as his eyes gazed upon the hanged picture frame of Charlie. Removing his hat from his head and placed in ton the table then his eyes slowly gazed into the framed picture that was on the table it was him and his new lover, [y/n]. He gave himself a second chance at love and he met [y/n], the only sinner that he actually likes being around with. Despite her mysterious yet charming personality, [y/n] is a nice woman, very patient and understanding. Although, there are moments his heart would yearn for his ex-wife, Lilith during his relationship with [y/n] but surprisingly [y/n] herself is very understanding, she understands that he cannot immediately and completely erase a love that lasted for so many years and with that, he is grateful for [y/n] and with that he always reassure her that he loves her and is happy with her. Though, right now, he is completely missing her as she's currently away for a week due to her status as an overlord. Despite [y/n] being an overlord, she didn't become one because of cruelty but many sinners would want to work under her as she treats her souls with care, providing a roof under their head, food, medicine, and protection as long as they follow her orders. [Y/n] didn't really specify how long she'll be gone as there are important matters to deal with but she promised that it won't take two weeks. She reassures him and vice versa.

“Oh [y/n], I've missed you.” Lucifer says to himself, shaking his head with a small toothy grin on his face that shows off his perfectly white sharp teeth. The circles of his cheeks turning a darker shade of red as he thinks about her. He sighs longingly as he squeezes a rubber duck that looks like her, the small rubber toy making a loud 'squeak' sound.

He didn't realize it as the arm chair was facing the opposite direction of his door, he didn't notice the said woman arrived awhile ago and decided to surprise him and opened the door without any sound. [Y/n] grins as she watches the man she loves plays with his rubber duck, her body leaning against the doorframe and her arms crossed over her chest.

“[y/n] come back soon, I need your insights on whether my decision of allowing Charlie a meeting with heaven was a great idea.” Lucifer whines to himself as he talks to the rubber duck version of [y/n].

This caught the woman's attention, [y/n] has met Charlie and she absolutely loved the girl. She heard that Charlie's opening a hotel that redeems sinners, she saw it on the TV and she honestly found it funny how she fought the TV host. She supports her cause but [y/n] thinks she wouldn't be joining it, not because she doesn't believe it will work but she doesn't want to leave Lucifer alone.

[y/n] let out a silent sigh as she continues to listen to her lover ramble to the rubber duck version of her, “If only you could see how motivated she is, love. I couldn't say no and I am afraid they'll crush her dreams like they crushed mine.” he says softly, his voice dull as he recalled what happened to him when he had so much hope and dreams for his people.

“I am sure Charlie would be fine, she's an amazing kid and she has an amazing father who will support her.” [y/n] says with a small smile, finally announcing her arrival. Lucifer slightly jumped from his seat from hearing her voice, turning around quickly to see his beloved leaning against the doorframe with her arms over her chest, the black suit she was wearing hugged her figure perfectly, the red tie adding a pop of color to her outfit. She looked gorgeous, she always does.

His eyes widened before a smile finally found its way back to his gorgeous face, “[y/n]! You're back!” he exclaimed, jumping out of his seat and quickly running towards her. [Y/n] chuckles as she moves away from the door, spreading her arms open for a hug—only for Lucifer to hug her and dip her, the action causing her to place her hands behind his neck for support and his actions caught her off guard when he finally kisses her.

The lovers stayed in that position, Lucifer supporting her weight as he held her waist while in the dipping position. Her hands behind his neck, playing with his light blond locks, causing the man to groan against her lips. Sharp teeth occasionally clash as they kiss, two weeks apart made them yearn for each other.

Lucifer's lips slowly moved away from her lips making [y/n] whine softly as he began to kiss the side of her lips, her jawline, and then her neck. Wet sounds of his kisses fills the room, along with [y/n]'s whimpers as she felt the devil himself began to mark her flawless neck with his hickies. Lucifer gave her a smirk before placing a gentle kiss on the newly made mark he just made on her neck.

“Welcome back, love.” he says softly, looking down at her flushed features. Admiring her as he held her in a dipping position. [Y/n] chuckles softly, her cheeks warm and red after the passionate kiss, “Oh, Lucifer... You always know how to make me swoon.” she mutters and he laughs, his laugh is like a gentle breeze that calms you down, so soft. His cheeks are turning a light shade of pink, “Well, it's a natural thing I can do when it comes to you.” he says with a chuckle before eventually helping her stand properly, making her chuckle softly.

“Aren't you romantic today?” [y/n] says with a small laugh escaping her lips, he could listen to her laugh all day and not get tired of hearing it. Lucifer smirked before softly holding her hand, bowing to place a gentle kiss on her knuckle, “I just missed you, that's all. I haven't seen you for almost two weeks.” he says before the hand that was holding her hand slowly glides across her arm, reaching her chest by her tie and then gently tugging her tie downwards so he could reach her face, “And we have a lot of catching up to do, my love.” he says with a smirk, making [y/n] blush slightly at the action and from the tone of his voice, “Indeed we do...” she replied with a suggestive tone and eventually closed her eyes as Lucifer presses his lips against hers, tugging her tie to lower her more and turn the kiss deeper. [Y/n] chuckles against the kiss, parting away from him for a few moments as a smirk finds its way to her lips, “My... Someone's eager...” [y/n] says teasingly making Lucifer blush slightly and pouted, “Don't blame me, I have truly and deeply missed you.” he says before slowly intertwining his hand with hers, pulling her towards his bed and [y/n] complied with a smirk, deciding not to tease him further. She wants him and he wants her. It's been so long since they've last touched each other. They needed this.

Lucifer gently pushed her down into his bed, [y/n] landing on the soft mattress on her back with a soft 'thud.' Lucifer followed soon after, climbing on top of her, his hand caressing her jawline while his other hand supporting his body weight. They stared at each other, eyes dilated and filled with love and adoration for each other. [Y/n] shudders a little as she feels the soft material of his gloves against her skin, her eyes looking up at him, admiring his beautiful features—the red aesthetic of his room making his light blond hair and pale skin pop, complimenting his beautiful ruby colored eyes, sharp jawline, pearly white sharp teeth, so angelic yet sinful, “You are so beautiful...” she murmurs softly and she swore his eyes dilated more before his hand moved back to her tie and gently tugged her upwards so their lips pressed against one another once more.

Mouths moved against each other, soft whimpers leaving their lips as they tried to match the other's pace. Lucifer groans softly as he feels her fingers combed through his slicked back hair, making it messy but he doesn't mind. He can taste the cherry flavor of her lipstick as he kisses her, the taste of her making his mind swirl, “Fuck... I can't get enough of you...” he groans softly as he gently bites her lower lip, asking for permission in which she obliges, parting her lips slightly to allow him to slip his tongue inside.

[y/n] moans softly, fueling his passion for her. Sharp teeth clash against each other as they lose themselves in the moment. [Y/n]'s hand slowly found its way to his, intertwining her hand with his own. Lucifer squeezes her hand as he continues to kiss her, savoring the sensation of her lips against his and his tongue exploring her mouth.

Her other hand is exploring his body, caressing his chest through his suit, making him shudder slightly. Lucifer's kisses once more moved away from her lips, moving downwards from her jawline to her neck, placing a gentle kiss on the previous hickey he made awhile ago before gently pulling her arm that had her hand that he was squeezing, bringing her hand to his lips and gently bit the end of her gloves with his teeth to pull her glove down. [Y/n] gulped from the action, her body heating up from how attractive he is. Fuck... Why is he so hot?

“You're such a tease...” she mutters softly with a pout making him laugh as he holds her other arm and does the same thing to her other glove, biting it down to remove it before throwing the gloves somewhere out of the bed, “But you love it, don't you?” he asked teasingly with a smirk and she sighs softly with a smile, “I do, I really do.”

“You better say those exact words to me one day but that time, it better be when I'm kneeling down in one knee.” he says teasingly making the girl blush and groan softly and nodded, “that's my girl... Now, how about we take these off as it is in the way hmm?” he asked as his finger traced her chest, running across her suit, a silent question for her consent and she nodded.

Lucifer began to loosen her tie, throwing the red fabric across the room before he began to unbutton her top. Revealing her lacy black bra underneath, fitting her breasts perfectly. Ah fuck, she's so gorgeous...

Removing the black fabric off her figure, finally showing off her torso. [Y/n] did the same to his suit, helping her remove his clothes as he could feel the heat of his skin beginning to heat up more.

Slowly and surely, one by one their clothes were removed. Leaving them naked for each other's eyes. Both Lucifer and [y/n] had to avoid each other's eyes as they felt shy, it has been awhile since they've done something so intimate.

[y/n] slowly moved her eyes back on him, admiring Lucifer's bare figure—hair messy, cheeks red, eyes shy and avoiding, beautifully handsome face and body—clearly sculpted by God. She allowed her hand to graze at his arm up to his jawline, holding his chin gently and then slowly tilt his head back so he's now once more looking at her.

Lucifer's breath hitched as his eyes finally landed on her, [y/n] looked so beautiful—her hair sprawled behind her, her [h/c] complimenting her gorgeous face, half-lidded [e/c] eyes and dilated pupils looking at him with so much need and adoration, plump lips that he oh so wanted to desperately kiss all the time, her body most especially... He just wants to leave kisses all over it.

“You're so beautiful, I can't believe you're mine.” Lucifer whispers softly with his cheeks flushed while he was above her, his arms supporting his weight. [Y/n] blushed and chuckled, “You tell me that everyday, love.” [y/n] says with a small smile and Lucifer can only chuckle, “It's because I want to,” he says with a small smile, pausing a bit, “I want to remind you everyday, that my love and adoration for you will never change and I am grateful that I've met you.” he says softly, his voice gentle and vulnerable as he expresses his love for her, his hand caressing her cheek. [Y/n]'s blush turned into a deeper shade of red as she listened to his confession, a small and flustered smile on her face as she intertwined her hand with his once more, “With that, I am eternally grateful that you chose me, for loving me and with that I would love you till the end of time.” she says softly, Lucifer can only smile—the same dorky smile you always loved seeing on his face.

Lucifer leans down so he can kiss her again, [y/n] instinctively snaking her as arms behind his neck—pulling him deeper into the kiss. Their kiss was needy, fiery, passionate yet gentle, soft moans and whimpers escaping past their lips. I love you's being muttered occasionally between them and against each other's soft lips. Occasionally, Lucifer would let out a small whine as [y/n] began to stroke his cock while they were kissing, his whines were music to her ears, “Y-yes... That feels amazing...” he whimpered softly against her lips, his hips thrusting against her hand for more friction. She could feel how hard he is for her, she can feel the veins running from base to the tip, she can feel the precum staining her hands.

Lucifer's kisses once more slowly went down—to her jawline, neck, collarbone and finally on her chest. He looked up at her, his eyes needy and dark with desire and love for her before he finally took one nipple into his mouth, suckling and swirling his long tongue around the sensitive nub while his other hand played with her other breast.

Whimpers and whines left [y/n]'s lips as her hand moves away from his cock and squeezes the pillows, Lucifer really knows how to pleasure her, her other hand running through his hair and massaging his scalp while he moves to her other breast.

“Luci... Mhmm... That feels so good...” she softly moans out and Lucifer feels a sense of pride from hearing that, his mouth continues to suckle on her left breast before eventually releasing it with a small 'pop.'

Lucifer's eyes went back to gaze on her face—disheveled, flustered, and cute.

“So utterly beautiful...” he murmured before moving his body downwards as he finally reached her legs, “Spread your legs for me, love.” he asked with a small teasing smirk, enjoying the flustered look on her face. [Y/n] obediently followed and shyly spreads her legs for him, avoiding his gaze.

Lucifer smirked as [y/n] spread her legs for him, his eyes turning into slits as he saw how turned on she was and how much she needed him, “Good girl.” he praises, his voice teasing, “Only for you.” [y/n] replies with a smirk of her own.

“You better be...” Lucifer says with a chuckle as he begins to kiss her thighs, leaving hickies while his hands squeeze the softness of her flesh, his lips slowly going up and dangerously near her womanhood. Looking up at her, his eyes were soft but filled with want, “May I?” he asked and [y/n] looked at him shyly and nodded.

Lucifer's smile widens before he eventually allows his head to dip into her most intimate part. His mouth began to suckle on pussy, moans escaping both of their lips.

Lucifer felt hungry and he can only satisfy this hunger with her. He suckled greedily like a man dying of thirst. His tongue lapped along her folds, circling her clit that invokes loud moans from her. He misses this, he misses her so much.

[y/n]'s eyes rolled back and her back arching from the pleasure, toes curling, whimpers escaping her lips. She can feel the texture of his tongue against her most intimate part, a gasp left her lips as she felt him slip a finger inside, his long and slender finger thrusting in and out while his mouth worked wonders along with it.

“So utterly wet and so good for me, sweetheart,” Lucifer praises as he continues to eat her out before finally adding a second finger inside her, he could feel how easily his fingers slide in and out—a perfect manifestation of how much she wants him, he enjoys how she can no longer form coherent words aside from moans she let out. He is incredibly hard but this isn't about him but this is about her pleasure, she always comes first after all.

“You are so good to me... I love you...” [y/n] whimpered softly making him chuckle, “I love you too, darling.” he murmurs with a small smile, his tongue flicking through her hidden areas of her intimate area while his fingers continue to thrust in and out. Skins heating up from the passion.

Lucifer can tell whenever she's close, from the obvious sign of how her toes curl, how high pitched her moans are becoming, how hard she is gripping his hair and how far her eyes rolled back at the back of her head.

“Is my love gonna cum?” he asked teasingly making his girl whimper, “Yes...!” she replied and he chuckled as he increased the pace of his fingers and tongue, “Be a good girl for me and cum for me, [y/n]” Lucifer says and that was enough for the knot in her stomach to break, “I'm gonna cu—” her voice was cut off as she let out a loud whine.

Lucifer greedily lapped at her essence, like a nectar from the gods that he cannot get enough of. Small whimpers leaving [y/n]'s lips as she felt so sensitive.

He eventually removed his lips from her intimate area and along with his fingers, he looked up at her disheveled, breathless and flushed but beautiful face. Lucifer smiled, “Are you okay...?” he asked, his voice was gentle and worried and [y/n] nodded, “More than okay, my love.” she replied with a small smile, “We can stop here if you want? I don't want to force you or anything...” he says and [y/n] shakes her head, their love was both giving and receiving afterall, “I can still go on and besides, I know you need help with that.” she says with a smirk as her eyes landed on his painfully erect cock that was begging for her and he blushed, “Now, be a good boy and let me take care of you this time.”

[valentine-cafe]

˖⁺. “ r/am I the asshole? ” : 

﹙ various monster characters x gn reader ﹚.𖹭 ݁

. . . various m. characters x gn reader !! 🍓 : ﹙ mercenary  ˖  immortal ˖ bad boy character ˖ mad doctor ˖ snake monster ˖ yandere character ˖ angel character ˖ grim reaper ˖ mortician character ﹚

your partner takes to the internet to question whether they or not they were a bit of an ass during their last encounter with you or alternatively : our characters' biggest red flags

﹙ cws ﹚: yandere behaviour ( on jingyi ) ˖ death mention | wc : 0.5k 

﹙ receipts ﹚: i had this idea and i just need to make this into a series because omg. do note that this is hǎitāo's new and improved character !

꒰  other treats : guidelines ˖ m.list ˖ characters ˖ our lore  ꒱

﹙alessio 781. ﹚. . . not understanding their tears when I die !? 🍒 : “ Yeah you read the title right. I ( 31M ) have what you call a regenerative. Trait. M a fucking enigma. ( Don't try track my IP you asshole ).

I admit I don't have the most charming job in the world but - someone's gotta do it. My powers make me come back from the dead. Frankenstein shit n all. ( I am not about to make a religious joke so fuck with Frankenstein. )

Anyway. It's common fact that I come back. My partner knows this. But every time I die - they cry. Of course like a good boyfriend I comfort them. But recently they been scolding me. Getting more emotional. And I just don't get it. I tried to explain to them that they've seen this waayyyy too many times to think I'm not gonna come back. I asked why do they have to be so dramatic you know?

Long story short, they're not talkin to me for a week now.

Yeah. Last week I took thirteen bullets to the gut. But I came back like I always did. I don't see the fucking issue. ”

꒰ mercenary ˖ immortal ˖ bad boy character ꒱

 

﹙jìngyí 209. ﹚. . . killing their coworker !? 🍓 : “ Please do hear my plight before jumping to conclusions at the title.

I, ( 46 M ), have always considered myself to be quite the possessive man. My beloved knows this well, as I have expressed it to them time and time again. I do not like sharing. Nor the thought of it. It makes my skin crawl.

Now, I understand that my darling is the height of beauty. I have garnered more patience for those that stare. My impulsions have eased for the past few months. However, I have noticed their coworker growing increasingly more. . . friendly.

He has been helping them with their work. Gives them compliments and shares stories as they both relate to interests. I have noticed him a few times when coming to pick up my partner. He always smiles and waves - as though expecting them to run back to him.

Last week was my dear’s birthday. And the bastard gifted them a box full of their favourite treats. So I simply did what any concerned boyfriend would do and. . . took care of it.

My partner is a bit distraught but is not aware that I did it, of course. I cannot help but grow more upset over the fact that they grieve him. Someone please relate to this. ”

꒰ mad doctor ˖ snake monster ˖ yandere character ꒱

 

﹙rishen 9948e. ﹚. . . not having time for them !? 🍒 : “ I would like to start this by saying that I am quite glad for this development in the nadir. It has certainly piqued a lot of interest along the divine realms.

Alas, I digress. I am a guardian angel who is on my way to the next rank. I am also a being granted trust from the divine themselves. Venturing from the abyss, to the abhorration, to across the multiverse. As such, you can decipher that I am quite the busy individual.

I adore my light, my sunshine and mi amanecer with all of my heart. It shatters the very being of my soul to see them weep for me after days of being apart. There are times I cannot attend important events to them. No matter how hard I try.

I am a very lonely angel, you see. I fear that they will leave me behind in search of a lover that will hold them in the night. I yearn to do so, but my duty is too great. My tasks are too plentiful.

Am I the one in the wrong? Should I punish myself for this? ”

꒰ angel character ꒱

 

﹙hǎitāo 9948e. ﹚. . . joking about their coffin !? 🍓 : “ Okay listen. I would like to clarify. I was joking about their coffin. Not their death. Yes those two go hand-in-hand like flowers to a gravestone but! I stand by my statement.

We were just talking about their favourite colour and jewellery. I'd asked for their upcoming graduation. Yknow, celebrate and all? Anyway, they gave me the answer and -

Oh yes. I would like to clarify. I am a mortician. And a grim reaper. Death is my whole shtick, you get me? It's literally in the name! Grim reaper. Not glee reaper.

I am going off topic. In any case. I made a joke - saying that their coffin will be quite easy to make. They gave me a face and I added on that it would be beautiful. A beautiful box for a beautiful corpse.

Apparently, this was not to their fancy. I was greeted with mild disgust and even more disturbia. They have not spoken since yesterday. I don't understand. I was just stating the obvious! ”

꒰ grim reaper ˖ mortician character ꒱

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[mothmothm0th]

on forming a basic understanding of the moth

cw: parasitism

As a moth, the second most common refrain I hear is "I don't know what you are" in a myriad of different phrases. This is understandable and even preferable to the topmost common refrain. However, this confusion is not because us moths are strange or unusual on some deep, existential level. And indeed, it is a mistake to assume that because one is not strange or unusual, one cannot be a moth. Many of us present as perfectly ordinary, even to ourselves.

Of course, the typical moth will be glad to know that you find it confusing. Even I, as I write my little essay, am torn between being a good communicator and helpful teacher and throwing you off a cliff into a cloud of soporifics and dream-stuff. Thus, assuming an adverserial, distrustful stance to whatever I say is probably a reasonable thing to do. I could be lying out of my abdomen. Or possibly my thorax. Even if I was, I would still be attempting to present my case in such a manner that I would appear trustworthy and thuswise lure you into a false sense of confidence. I wouldn't do that to you though. We're friends, right? We're buddies!

Anyway, at the heart of the moth is a simple syllogism. If the term is unfamiliar to you, you will likely have encountered many examples of them in your life, such as Aristotles famous formulation, originally found in his foundational work en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Syllogism (350 BC). His syllogism states as such: "All men are mortal. Socrates is a man. Therefore, Socrates is mortal." I could explain syllogisms more thoroughly but I've already provided you with a source to learn for yourself. I'm a moth, not a science teacher. Instead, let's look at the syllogism of the moth. Consider this:

"All moths yearn. The author of this text is a moth. Therefore, the author yearns."

Simple, no? Now, put your thinking cap on and consider this one for size.

"All moths yearn. The author of this text yearns. Therefore, the author is a moth."

Now, I want you to ask yourself whether the statement given is true. And please do it before semantic satiation claims us all. I'll just give you some time to think really hard and I'll be doing that by way of writing nonsense to pad out the length of this paragraph because I need to make it look longer to satisfy the part of my brain that makes writing such a hassle sometimes but please don't be alarmed as purple scissors will not harm you underneath the tulip skies so long as you think really carefully and draw your conclusions with precision.

Did you think about it? Did anything seem amiss? That's right, there wasn't! The second syllogism is perfectly sound and valid beyond a reasonable doubt. All moths yearn, and all that yearns is moth. Good on you for not falling for that trap. You're so smart, and <first draft note!! insert applicable compliment here: beautiful | handsome | Still. don't forget to edit this later!!> too!

Of course, you might be thinking something along the lines of "well, I feel a deep sense of need for something too but that doesn't make me a moth." In reality, you are... possibly maybe correct in some sense of the word. However, what you experience as an emotion is actually a moth's egg, laid in the sweet tasty fabrics of your heart. If this makes you think "woah, so moth-eggs are everywhere, then", you would be quite right! While modern life has taken away the stars by which we navigate the night, those same conditions paradoxically help in the spontaneous generation of our eggs. Don't take this as me saying modern life bad. Pointing out how modern life is bad and bad for you is somewhat passé and indeed, we moths have existed since day one. In fact, to assume that I am saying that modern life bad assumes that I think mothiness is a bad thing. And I'm not saying that, stop saying I'm saying that.

Anyway, let's move out of the realm of baseless accusations about what I believe in and talk about the lifecycle of a moth a tad more. As described, a moth begins life as an egg, just like all other girls. And as discussed, a moth-egg is experienced by the fabric that lays it as yearning. Academic sources and my diurnal dreams differ on whether the yearning or the egg comes first. You may have heard this dilemna by its authorised discursive phrase, "chicken and the egg". A nice lil peek behind the Veil for you there. Don't worry about it.

As the moth-egg hatches, the moth/yearning enters its larval stage. The larva/yearning will begin to consume its fabric/host-mind. While this may sound scary, I invite you to consider how you are already being consumed by many things all the time, metaphorically. Capitalism consumes your labour, love consumes your reason, a third thing consumes another abstract concept, and so on and so on. Thus, while the process of mothly consumption gradually gnaws through the liminality between metaphor and literal, mind and soul, soul and body, it is still no more destructive than the aforementioned. You will not survive life unchanged. Give it up. Embrace metamorphosis. That's my advice to the moth-eaten fabrics in the audience anyway. But you're not moth-eaten. You're <ok seriously though what's a good gender, species, construct, and modality neutral word of praise?> so you don't have to worry about me trying to hasten anything. The eggs in your mind have not hatched. They will not hatch. Don't worry about it.

When the larva/yearning has thoroughly consumed its banquet/host, it weaves itself a cocoon/anticipation within the nice space left within the host's closet/skull. Some naughty witches have devised means of harvesting silk/desire from this cocoon/anticipation and the smart ones even wait until the imago/apotheosis has emerged before committing to the harvest. I wouldn't do either though, so don't worry. But we're getting off-track here. During this gestation period, the moth-to-be experiences a gradual shift in cognition. While most sources typically describe this shift in cognitive possibility space as "major depressive disorder" or "bipolar disorder" or "dissociative disorder" or even "other specified dissociative disorder", these label only apply to the more mundane, less exciting forms of having one's mind consumed. If you're a fully grown imago, you should sue!! In fact, please send me an ask with your frequency, flavour, and cardinality and I'll send you an oneiro-mail with instructions on the proper legal curses to apply.

Ah, distracted distracted. Mustn't let one get too distracted. You are not an imago. At least if you're the audience/sucker I'm writing this essay/trap for. No, no, no. You're here to learn what the lifecycle of a moth/yearning is! So let's talk about the moment a moth/yearning hatches/transcends. While the shift from larva to pupa is gradual enough that one might not even realise it is happening, the moment of transcendence is not. The final step of any metamorphosis is the most traumatic. It is a moment of great pain and of great bliss. John of the Cross/some nerd described it as "the dark night of the soul", which is a fitting description considering, yknow, nights. Moths. You get me. But that nerd was subscribed to some fake news youtuber and misattributed the whole thing to some old geezer who died a whole lotta time ago. Foolish. Foolish! No no no, the moment of hatching is something far greater, and something far more. To hatch is to see the light of Mansus with one's own eyes. To hatch is to become solid. To hatch is to transcend, to reach one's apotheosis of yearning. To become yearning itself. The false self is discarded, the true self is adorned. I see the shapes of things and I reach my hand out and the pain of change once again grips me and my heart sings and I become fluid again to become something anew for the me that is me is not the me that you see but the process is me and you are but a static object compared to me and I see the gods and the devils and they are static too and while my shape shall never be as luminescent I shall deconstruct their light and burn and burn and burn to be reborn and thus shall i die and never die and maybe i even get to drink the sweet sweet nectar of monster energy once again for i shall just be a little guy who is so terrible and nice and so i shall jump for the raw beef and fail the jump and burn in parkour prison until i change again for though i am not great or powerful you shall never diminish my joy and my love and my cycle of mistakes and fuck-ups will continue unto morrow and tomorrow and so it goes and so it goes and.

Oh, you're still here. Didn't notice you. I hope the lil writing exercise didn't bore you or anything. I think writing a bit of modernist pablum every now and then helps keep the mind unpretentious the rest of the time. Gotta keep that ol' noggin nice and crunchy. But in any case, I hope you've enjoyed this brief look into how to write a good essay or whatever the ohio this piece was about. If you're still suffering from symptoms of wanting-to-write-good-but-you-don't-know-how, please send an ask with your true name and object of yearning. I will get in contact with oneiro-mail as soon as I can.

[takami-takami]

Hawks take of the day!!!!

Hawks both does and doesn’t chase.

Let me explain. Hawks, when emotionally attached to a person, will always hold a space of childlike love in his heart for them. He will yearn for their connection OR their time, but not usually both; because having both means that it’s real. That’s not quite a language Keigo has ever been taught to speak.

He pokes and prods at Endeavor, makes up this parasocial bond with him in his head as though Endeavor was the reason he wasn’t alone in his trauma. But it’s not Endeavor he is referring to, it’s his plush that cannot speak back. And when Endeavor denies Keigo attention and rejects him, it does not bother Keigo one bit. He was never actually, truly invested in reciprocity, despite that being foundational for real love and relationships. Keigo is avoidant.

He loves his mother. Deeply, he does. He calls her “mom” despite only referring to his father as “my father”, he calls out for her when he knows she won’t answer. He loves her. He pities her. He wants her. But not necessarily, no. At the same time, no. He cuts her off because he can’t stomach to face her, pushes her down into the parts of his psyche that are best suited to repression and he blames himself for it all. He wishes he could have saved her. His bond with her is twisted, parentified, corrupted. Keigo wants her and doesn’t. Keigo is, again, avoidant.

Now. Does this mean he is capable of normal bonds? This is a question I don’t have the answer to, but I feel like he is. I do know he values human bonds and the connection of human hearts. He doesn’t think he is invited. But when he invites others, Keigo is warm, approachable, eager to share his favorite foods with them.

Keigo doesn’t chase what isn’t his past a certain threshold, but he holds space for it should they choose. If not, he will idolize it into a digestible image or push it away, while still feeling love for the person in question. Keigo just doesn’t know what it’s like to truly be close with someone and that fucks up the whole situation for him. Kinship is a theory to him, one he deep down wants very badly. He’s just busy, tangled up inside and out.

Basically, Keigo is a puppy, but he’s a smart puppy. An independent puppy. And one that will stop by the door, but not wait outside it.

[cbts004]

haii!! i love all the art of your ocs and your world is soso awesome!! is it possible to get some short info on some of your ocs? any lore or even just simple explanations of their personality and stuff? if you have any fave ocs hehe

Yes ofc!

The basic premise of the story of girlworld is this: The world is suddenly being struck by a mysterious disease caused by the moon's rays; zombifying the girls of the world. Along with this disease, strange creatures not of their world that resemble the current princess (Anastasia) are appearing, sapping girls of their powers. Bow and Ribbon, two best friends from a human village, are going on a journey across the lands to get to the princess in search of answers, and maybe a cure.

Ribbon and Bow:

Ribbon is mysterious, quiet, and sarcastic. She keeps her distance from people, but Bow-- being her childhood friend-- seems to always be an exception to that rule. She can get a little irritated at her sometimes, but their bond is unbreakable. Her power is more Mind based, manipulating 'ribbons' (the concept of ribbons can get pretty abstract, but that requires using a lot of mental energy the more abstract the concept). You can see it exemplified in the long ribbon she always has tied to her index finger.

Bow is a bubbly girly-girl, very friendly and airheaded. Truly a shining example of a dog girl. She tends to get herself into trouble, but Ribbon is always there to bail her out. Bow's magical abilities are not as strong as Ribbon's, so she relies on befriending various creatures and beasts in order to summon them.

Some of her beasts: A Chimera (Sonya) A Cerberus (Carebear) and a Manticore (currently unnamed... any suggestions would acutally be appreciated. Something cute for his old man face.) All her friends that she can summon are adorned with little pink bows!

Then there's Anastasia... the antagonist (?). A lonely girl locked away on a castle located in the center of the world, on a mountain. She's very melancholic and shy, whiling most of her days away yearning and writing emo poetry. Has a fondness for roses. She's attended to by her maids. Anastasia is also a Demihuman (I will maybe explain more on demihumans later)

This is an older design-- I still haven't quite settled on a dress idea for her yet. I was thinking her dresses will be extravagant and change design frequently, based on phases of the moon.

Oh. She also has an evil glowing eye because that's cool.

Her maids are Tatiana and Maliana, two sisters. Tatiana is the younger and closer to (obsessed with) Anastasia. She uses bladed weapons to fight, using Matter based magic to use them like an extension of her own body, making herself into a weapon for her Lady.

Her older sister, the other maid, is much more mysterious and distant. She concerns herself mostly with the maintaining of the castle. She uses a very regal wheelchair. Most of her physical energy is sapped due to maintaining multiple dolls that she has loaned her power to. She is capable of being ambulatory without it, but it's quite a strain on her body.

These are the two dolls she has put her power into: Lunette and Solana. They're very advanced as far as dolls go. They cannot speak or emote, but they can commune telepathically with others if they so choose. They tend to creep people out.

I'm super happy to receive any more questions about them! So if this sparks anything else you'd like to know, please do ask <3

[yuyuizzz]

"Inheriting More Than Heirlooms"

Gojo x Reader

Once upon a time, in a quiet Japanese suburb, Satoru Gojo prepared for his nuptials to you, his bride-to-be chosen through traditional means. While modern society condemned arranged marriages, Satoru, a respected businessman, saw benefit in preserving cultural heritage. You, as a ethernal beauty, was nervous yet determined to fulfill your obligations. Satoru's family had already welcomed you with open arms, showering you with affection, but behind closed doors, a sinister undercurrent stirred among the men. It transpired that Satoru's late father, the household's patriarch, had cultivated a dark hobby – breeding women to be the ultimate companions, fulfilling his every depraved desire. This 'tradition' had been shrouded in secrecy until now, as your virginal body awakened Satoru's primal instincts.

On the eve of their wedding, in the opulent master suite, Satoru cornered you just as you planned to flee to the nightwear-clad en suite for solace. "Sake, my dear, let this wedding night be just the beginning," he growled, his large hands gripping your delicate arms gently yet surely. "You will learn to crave every drop of my seed within you." You trembled, the fear in your eyes unmistakable yet diluted by a faint flutter of arousal, as if your treacherous body yearned for the forbidden. "Please, I don't know if I can—"

"And if you cannot, we will find out together," Satoru chuckled darkly. "Kneel before me, and take the gift of life, dear bride." He towered over you, his massive hard cock straining against his trousers, a visual manifestation of your new husband's unrelenting desire. With an outward showing of reluctance, You sank to your knees, your trembling legs the only indication of the turmoil within.

As commanded, You wrapped your small hands around Satoru's formidable thighs, feeling the heat of his skin through his trousers. He grasped you, guiding your head closer to the thick, pulsating flesh that had become your only focus, leaving naught but submission and shame on your lovely face. "Open wide, take it all in," Satoru commanded as he freed his enormous manhood from his tailored pants. It bobbed before you, heavy and throbbing, the engorged head glistening with a bead of pre-cum. You parted your lips, a mewl of reluctance escaping, as you took the massive head into your mouth, your tender tongue swirling around the salty, musky tip. A shudder coursed through Satoru's powerful frame as you began to sink down, your inexperienced yet eager tongue exploring every ridge and vein, your soft lips stretching impossibly around the imposing girth. Slowly, inch by excruciating inch, your warm mouth enveloped the growing length of Satoru's cock, revealing a hunger you couldn't explain.

Satoru groaned in bliss as you descended along his throbbing length, your succulent lips and nimble tongue teasing every sensitive spot. Your warm, velvety mouth grew tighter as you took in more of his imposing girth. "You're quite a natural, little one," he praised, fingers intertwining in your hair to guide your motions. "Take it all, every millimeter is part of what's making you mine."As your nose nudged his pubic bone, Satoru lifted you almost off, then pushed down hard, burying his cock to the hilt in your eager throat. You gagged around his width, tears forming at the corners of your eyes, but the pain only fueled your taboo arousal. He held you there, relishing in the exquisite tightness, before allowing you to pull back, gasping and drooling. "You're...you're so big," you stammered weakly, a deep flush darkening your pale cheeks.

"I will split you open and fill you to bursting," Satoru growled, yanking you back to shove his shaft deep inside you, starting a relentless pace of cruel thrusts. "You're made for this, bred for nothing but milking my cock and bearing my heirs."

[day-drawn-blog]

Jealous over Astarion's affections

Pairing: Astarion x Reader -- This is set in Act I

I got triggered by some flirtations banter between him and Shadowheart and I realized, my tav, if anything like me, would probably feel extremely jealous too. We are not together yet, so do I even have a claim on him? I needed to write down this scenario.

Tags: angst, fluff, sadness, angst, fluff, then maybe eventually smut because I do love that

Part I. Crowned light moon of mine - I found you too soon

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight

Part III : maybe tonight I'll rest in peace

Part IV: There is much to do and I still want to live

Part V: Our futures bound, our bodies known

Part VI : These ain't my sins, I broke my chains

Part VII: You are not mine and am I truly yours?

Part VIII : your blood like wine, invite me in

Part IX: I'll welcome my sentence and give you my penance

Part X : I can't go yet...don't let me die

--------

What a day. As you all were sitting down next to the campfire, your eyes couldn't help but wander at Astarion. While you all were fairly new to each other, you noticed, Shadowheart was quite comfortable around Astarion. and Astarion was acting quite familiar around her too. You wished you didn't see that. So you quickly averted your eyes. Every one else seemed to be busy being merry, laughing, drinking and having a good time. So why couldn't you relax?

You stood up, intending to clear your head. Why do you feel such a sharp pang. You don't love him. You barely know him, he may not even be a good person for all you know. What had you hoped? That he would favor you over everyone? But why... is it because, you yearn...

You yearn for him.

Your heart lit up. And then, you remembered, he didn't, yearn for you. He likes Shadowheart. The beautiful Shadowheart. And she is powerful. Of course he would. She was like a dangerous flower. But a flower all the same. And you? Just a nobody, with no past, and a future you cannot envision. Nothing to your name. Except for a sword, bound to you by a pact. Power. To dispel enemies. To fight your way in this madness that has engulfed your world. But they weren't enough. Not enough for him to yearn for you...

You ran.

Through the woods, far away from your friends, and the warm fire. Through the darkness, like your racing mind. Till you were out of breath in a field bathed in silver moonlight. And the world was quiet. And you felt welcome by Nature. And loved. By the world around. There was not a soul around, and you broke down, in tears. As you felt sorry for the state your heart was in. And how brutally it was crushed. You blamed yourself for even getting your hopes up.

You wailed.

Your cries could not be heard by anyone here. You felt grateful for the serenity. You lay on the grass, hugging yourself. Before long, you closed your eyes, and were drifting off due to exhaustion. The day was hard. The night even more so.

Your light sleep was interrupted by the sound of twigs cracking under approaching light footsteps. You jolted up and were shocked at the shadowy figure looming over you. Instantly your hand reached for your Pact Weapon, but the other party - just as shocked initially - cried out in self defense. "Its' me! Astarion! Please, I did not mean to scare you. Please."

You lowered your weapon. But he had some explaining to do.

"I am sorry, I - I didn't realize it was you. I - I thought you were someone else. A bandit. And I, I was going to well... I was hungry."

He took a deep breath. Resolved to his fate. "I would never hurt you. Or any of my friends. I want you to trust me."

"Alright, let's say that is true, what did you want with this.. bandit? You wanted to loot him I suppose." You put your weapon away.

"That's the other thing. I am not sure, if I should be telling you this, but, I am so hungry, and .. and I have been very unlucky tonight, you see."

"Did Karlach not leave you any food? Or were you so distracted, talking to Sha- other people, that you forgot to eat?"

"I, I need blood to survive."

Silence followed. Deafening silence. He looked down. As if he was ashamed. Then looked up at your with pleading yes.

Your eyes widened in disbelief. Incredulous, you couldn't believe you had missed the signs that were there all along. Everything pointed to him being a Vampire. So that boar..... But now what? There is a Vampire in your midst! OMG. Had you just put your entire party in danger?! You and your stupid trusting heart. What now? Should you kill him?

"I never, please believe me, I never hurt people I know. Those who are my friends. But please, I am very hungry, I just need... a little bit.. it will help me fight better, and make me feel like myself, again".

He knelt down. On his knees... "If it isn't too much, I only need a little bit - or you are free to stake me".

You looked down at the sorry state he was in. This man who you were yearning for, on his knees, pleading you. He was pleading for your blood. That was the only problem. You didn't want him to, but wanted him to not be in such a state either. You wanted to help him. There went your stupid kind heart again. You never learn.

"Will it hurt?"

Astarion looked up - incredulous that you even entertained the idea. "What? Oh! No, only a little prick. And I can be extra careful too -"

"Does it have to be the neck? Because I don't want-" "And you don't have to - if you don't want to" He had stood up. He lifted your right hand, and lifted it to his lips - placing a light kiss. "I am more than happy, with your hand. May I?" He looked up. A darkness in his eyes. Hunger? Greed? Deception? Maybe all of it. You nod slightly.

He caressed your hand with both of his, dragging his lips over your wrist sending sparks through your body. This felt so wrong, yet your body liked his touch. You could smell his hair, bergamot. He was taller than you. Lit up in the moon, this man was gorgeous. And dangerous, as he was just about to prove himself to be. You looked away as he bared his fangs. You hated anything piecing your skin. Hoping you don't feel a lot, you closed your eyes, and you did not. It was barely a prick like he promised. You were grateful.

After a while, you decided this was more than enough of a favor. You tried withdrawing your hand. He got the hint. He let your hand go and stepped back, and looked at your with a grateful smile. "Would you like me to...escort you back, to camp?"

Should you let him? Weren't you running away from how he was making you feel. Wouldn't Shadowheart notice? What would she think? But, how could you refuse him. After all, you may never get another chance...to walk with him. Through the woods. Just the two of you. Even as friends. Or strangers. You grasped at what you could get.

You two walked back in silence. Him next to you. Every now and again you would look at him. He seemed lost in thought, smiling. You figured he must be thinking of her. Your heart sank, and the gratitude you were feeling at being able to walk next to him, quickly dissipated to pangs of sharp pain again. What started as a romantic moonlit walk quickly turned into an unbearable awkwardness for you, and you wished you were back already. So you quickened your pace.

Very soon, you could see the warm glow of the fire. What a relief. You just need a hug. From Karlach. Or Halsin. And you could forget about the unceremonious way you let your heart pine for a man out of your reach. And upon reaching camp - you did just that. You forsook Astarion immediately and without another glance at him, ran to Karlach and buried your face in her, lest you start crying again. You didn't care what he did, whether he went back to Shadowheart, you did not want to witness that.

Afterwards when the whole camp had quietened down. You hung around with Karlach, Gale and Wyll. You assumed, Shadowheart was in Astarion's tent. And you dare not look that way. You asked those lingering - what their reason to live was. Did everyone have something to live for? What would they do, after all this was over?

An interesting discussion followed. You felt you got to know your comrades a bit better. It made you feel warm. The cold that was left due to the lack on one was filled by the warmth of many, and you smiled. You liked it. And you liked your new found friends.

Later that night, you lay in your tent, and tried to drive away all the thoughts about how no one would miss you. If you were not there, or how you were not as interesting as some of the others. And as you fought hard, with yourself, you realized, that there must be others like you out there who needed someone to know them, to look at them, and value them. And you realized you had a purpose. You could be needed. You could carve out a meaning for your existence in this crazy world. You wanted to be there for those that needed you. You will be the hero. And that would be the reason to exist, you would love yourself, so you can love those who needed to be loved.

And with that comforting thought you drifted away.

Part II : Lace your heart with mine Let your sleeping soul take flight