natrixz0700

[natrixz0700]

[natrixz0700]

I'm in love, I don't know what to do!

I started writing, everything about it, it became part of my routine, it became everything...

(Oh my God, help me)

[natrixz0700]

"Dinner for Two (Hannibal Lecter x Reader)"

Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Reader Genre: Psychological romance, suspense, erotic tension, touch of horror

You always knew there was something different about Dr. Lecter.

It wasn’t just his voice — though it was charming, velvety, made to hypnotize. Nor was it just the way he moved, with a grace that seemed cultivated over centuries, as if the modern world were merely a disguise for his true nature.

It was the eyes. That deep gaze that studied you as if he could decipher every fragment of your soul with a single blink. A gaze that seemed to pierce beyond the flesh, reaching your most secret desires — even the ones you barely admitted to yourself.

You shouldn’t feel so drawn to him. He was your psychiatrist. But when he said your name with that subtle European accent, you forgot your own last name.

— You've been dreaming again, haven't you? — he asked, while jotting something in his notes. — Yes… — you murmured, looking away. — But the dreams... they've changed.

He lifted his eyes to you, genuinely intrigued.

— Changed how?

You hesitated. And then, as if pulled by an invisible force, you confessed:

— In the dreams, you're with me. In my house. Watching me sleep. Sometimes… — your voice faltered. — Sometimes I want you to keep watching.

A heavy silence hung between you. He didn’t smile — but his eyes glinted.

— Fascinating, — he murmured, closing the notebook. — And how does that make you feel?

You tried to smile, but something burned beneath your skin.

— Scared. — And aroused, — he completed, with surgical precision.

Your heart raced. You didn’t answer. You couldn’t.

He stood up, with the calm of someone who had already planned each move before taking the first step. He walked to a nearby silver tray, where a glass of red wine and a small portion of something exquisite rested.

— I prepared something special for dinner, he said, glancing over his shoulder. — Would you join me tonight?

You should say no. But you couldn’t.

[natrixz0700]

Anniversary ⁉️

Decided to stick with their inner circles this time instead of drawing most of the characters :)

[natrixz0700]

Under the Skin (Gavin Reed x reader)

Pairing: Gavin Reed x Reader Genre: Romance, Enemies to Lovers, Sexual tension, Rated 16+ (with potential NSFW version) Setting: Post-android revolution, Cyberlife dismantled, Gavin promoted to senior detective. You are a former forensic attorney, now a consultant for the DPD.

The smell of burnt coffee and old paper lingered in the air of the precinct. You’d been working there for three days under a temporary contract as a legal consultant for the DPD, going through old case files involving android-related crimes. And in just three days, you already knew the name of the one person who could make you walk away from everything: Gavin Reed.

Arrogant. Sarcastic. Incredibly unbearable.

“Classic Cyberlife. Sending another suit-wearing extra to get in our way,” he muttered loudly as he walked past your desk, accidentally knocking over your files.

You clenched your jaw, kneeling to pick one up. “You know, if you talked a little less and listened a little more, maybe you’d solve your cases faster.” “And if you stayed in your lane, maybe no one around here would want to gouge their own eyes out, princess.”

Ah yes. He had this charming little habit of calling you “princess.” Almost every damn day.

The worst part? He was hot. Ridiculously hot — the kind of “scruffy beard, cynical stare and worn leather jacket” hot. And when he smiled — rare, but lethal — it was almost an insult. You hated that you noticed. Almost as much as you hated liking the way his cologne smelled.

It was on a rainy night that everything started to change. Gavin was the only detective available to check out a crime scene in the Gray Zone. And you, with your technical knowledge of old Cyberlife archives, were conveniently chosen to go with him.

“Don’t touch anything, got it? This isn’t a courtroom,” he said as he stepped into the dark warehouse, flickering lights reflecting in the puddles.

“Relax. I know how to wear gloves, detective. You should try it sometime,” you shot back, acidic as ever.

Between sharp glances and cutting remarks, the two of you drifted from the rest of the team. The tension was thick in the air — electric. Until he suddenly turned and grabbed your wrist.

“Why do you hate me so much?” he asked, voice low and rough. “Because you act like you’re the only one around here who knows what they’re doing.” “And you look at me like you want to stab me.”

You took a step closer without realizing it. “Maybe I do.”

He smiled — slow. Hot. Provocative. “Then stab me, princess. But aim well.”

You shoved him against the wall, but he didn’t move. Quite the opposite. His hand gripped your waist, holding you there.

And in that moment, you knew. Hate had a dangerous taste. Almost as addictive as desire.

I went back

[natrixz0700]

Toothy.

[natrixz0700]

mermaid megafauna

patreon . bsky

[natrixz0700]

new toy

[natrixz0700]

Pain, blood and love (Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Reader) P.2

Summary:

Pain, blood and sweat, these are familiar words for a soldier. He fought for his country daily, giving his soul for peace. Simon could taste the cursed taste of his hands, how many people had died for him? He was a curse, his brown eyes turning black over the long years of his career, his hair, once shades of brown, now showed signs of stress turning gray at only 34 years old, his tanned skin now stained with scars and large tattoos that covered his body almost completely. Half of his life was spent serving in the task force, restricting himself from any relationship, family or friend, he knew how dangerous those who sought him could be, knowing too much was a bittersweet curse. His teammates were his family, they always would be, they all had their peculiarities, but they were friends, they were brothers. Until she joined the task force, everything changed, her eyes, her skin, her lips, her voice, her smell, her everything, she was everything he wanted, everything he needed, he wanted to be hers like he had never wanted anyone else. Angelic curls, skin radiant like the sun, a scar near her lips, this made her intensely dangerous, one could even say that he was afraid of her.

Category: Mutual Pining

Warnings: Deaths, desire for sex (If I forget something, remind me)

P.1

Simon avoided direct encounters. Every glance he exchanged with Artemys was a calculated risk, a threat to the wall he had built around himself.

But she… she was different. She would break through his defenses with a simple “good morning.” It was dawn when the alert sounded. Emergency mission. Night infiltration into an industrial area on the border. Artemys was ready, eyes half-closed, the rifle an extension of her own body.

Ghost watched from afar, feeling a tension that came not from the mission, but from the fear of losing her. During the preparation, Price went over the details. It was a clean extraction—or at least it should have been.

But Ghost knew these “clean” operations well. They were never this clean. As he adjusted his equipment, Simon saw her sitting in the helicopter seat, legs crossed, her fingers absently stroking the barrel of her gun. The sky was darkening, and with it, the weight on his chest increased. He sat down next to her, almost without thinking.

“Have you ever had to shoot someone who didn’t deserve it?” he asked, his voice low, broken by the sound of the propellers. She turned her face, her eyes serious, steady. “Yes. But I’ve never hesitated. If we hesitate, we die.” Ghost nodded, feeling his stomach churn. It wasn’t fear of death. It was fear of her. The mission began as expected. Infiltration, silent elimination.

But something was wrong. The radio crackled, interference. Then came the explosion. An ambush. Amidst the chaos, Simon heard the shot. Not his. Hers. Precise. Fast. A second shot. A third. The sound of Artemys’s heavy breathing on the comm. “Target down. Flank clear.”

He moved instinctively toward her. When he saw her, kneeling amidst the wreckage and smoke, his eyes met hers and everything around them disappeared. “Are you okay?” he asked, moving closer than protocol would allow. “I am, but you… seem more worried about me than you should be, Lieutenant.” — she said, with a subtle smile on her bloody lips. “Maybe I am.” — he replied, the mask no longer hiding anything. That night, returning to the base, with the blood dried on his clothes and the heavy silence in the helicopter, Simon made a decision.

He could no longer run away from her.

finally the second part

[natrixz0700]

[natrixz0700]

Blood Flames (Aemond x sister!reader)

Summary: n the cold, golden halls of Dragonstone, where the blood of the Targaryens burns with madness and power, the king’s youngest daughter—clever, beautiful, and raised in the shadow of court intrigue—returns after years away from the Red Keep. With silver eyes and a heart torn between duty and desire, she meets Aemond, her younger brother, now a feared warrior, lord of the greatest living dragon, and heir to the silent fury. Aemond has always looked at her differently. Not as a brother should look at a sister. Growing up in her absence, he has become something more than a prince: he has become a charming and dangerous threat. And now, he wants more than just her company—he wants to unite their flames in a marriage that would challenge the king, faith, and reason itself. Amid voices that whisper betrayal, broken alliances, and the fate of a dynasty that feeds on her own blood, she must decide: give in to the passion that consumes her, or fight the legacy of madness that haunts her name? Because where there are dragons, love is a weapon — and fire, inevitable.

Category: Gothic Romance | Incest | Dark Fantasy | Game of Thrones / House of the Dragon AU

Warnings:

This story contains sensitive themes and adult content, including consensual incestuous relationships between siblings, sexual tension, family conflict, political intrigue, and elements of possessiveness and power. Set in a universe inspired by House of the Dragon, the story carries tones of dark romance, psychological drama, and complex power dynamics. Recommended reading for ages 18 and older. If any of these themes are uncomfortable for you, proceed with caution or consider another reading.

The mist was rising like a veil over the narrow sea, and the towers of Dragonstone loomed through the mists like the teeth of a sleeping beast. The ship rocked gently as she came into view of the black gates of the keep—her childhood home and silent prison. Years had passed since she had been sent away, raised among maesters and septas, far from court… far from him.

Aemond.

His name still burned like mulled wine on her lips, even when it was not spoken aloud. He was her brother, yes—but also something more. His presence in her mind had never diminished, only grown more complex. She had left him with the eyes of a boy, and now she returned to find him a grown man, known for his coldness, his sword, and above all, for Vhagar, the queen of dragons. As she stepped off the ship, the chill wind blew against her dark velvet cloak. There were guards waiting, but it was Aemond who stepped forward to greet her.

He stood there—tall, elegant, with an aura of dominance about him that made him impossible to ignore. The silver eyepatch hid the gap where his eyes had once been, and made his beauty seem cruel, like a statue carved to intimidate. He didn’t smile when he saw her. But his eyes—the only ones he had left—gleamed like molten metal as he stared into hers.

“Sister,” he said, his voice a mixture of steel and honey. “You’re back at last.”

She bowed her head, maintaining the dignity she had learned to cultivate. But her heart was pounding in her chest. “I have come at our father’s request,” she said. “They say the council wishes to marry me.” Aemond stepped forward, very close. She felt his warmth in the morning chill, and the look he gave her was not brotherly.

— They can wish for whatever they want. But you are mine.

She didn't answer. Not yet. But she knew, in that instant, that the game had begun.

(a possible part two)

[natrixz0700]

for study... of course

[natrixz0700]

I love compliments on my writing, OMG!!

Whisper My Name (Price x Reader) P.2

Summary: Lots of crying

Category: anguish and sadness but love

Warnings: Death (If I forget something, remind me)

You didn't hear about his death the way you deserved. No gentle knock on the door. No warning. Just the dry thud of the base radio and the harsh words of a report read by someone who could barely pronounce his name right.

John Price. K.I.A.

Killed in action.

That was it. Three words. An eternal silence. You spent the next few days in denial. Walking like a shadow, trying to remember the last time you heard his voice. The last time you felt the warmth of his presence in that dimly lit room where he told you his name—as if it were a secret.

And then, a week later, the letter arrived. It was folded inside a plain envelope, weathered at the edges. No return address. Just his handwritten name. The handwriting was his. You knew it the moment you saw it. With trembling hands, you opened the paper. And began to read.

“If you’re reading this… Then the war finally took me.” “I don’t know how long it will be before this reaches you, but I hope you still remember my voice. The way I tried not to feel what I felt. How I failed.” “I never said it in so many words. Because the world I live in is made of steel, smoke, and blood. And you… you were the only thing that made me want something different. Something more. Something impossible.” “I thought that if I didn’t say your name, if I didn’t look too long… I could survive you.” “But that night… I gave in. I whispered. And in that moment, I knew it was too late to protect myself from this.” “You became the memory that I will carry with me until my last breath. And if I could choose where to fall, it would be in your arms. Where I’ve never really been, but always felt like home.” “I know I’ll be just another name in the records. Another cross on the memorial. But you… you will be my name.” “Your name will be the last word my soul repeats, even after everything is over.” – John. (Now, finally, I can sign with my full name.)

You finish reading with your eyes flooded, your hands clutching the paper as if you could bring it back with the force of your touch. There is no more war. There are no more trenches. But you walk to the highest hill of the base, where the wind blows hard and the moon is as full as the night he looked at you for the last time. And there, with the letter on your chest, you whisper: “John.” And for a moment—just a moment—you swear you hear him answer.

Your name. In the voice of the wind. Like love. Like eternity.

[natrixz0700]

Destinations (part 1)

[natrixz0700]

Whisper My Name (Price x Reader) P.2

Summary: Lots of crying

Category: anguish and sadness but love

Warnings: Death (If I forget something, remind me)

You didn't hear about his death the way you deserved. No gentle knock on the door. No warning. Just the dry thud of the base radio and the harsh words of a report read by someone who could barely pronounce his name right.

John Price. K.I.A.

Killed in action.

That was it. Three words. An eternal silence. You spent the next few days in denial. Walking like a shadow, trying to remember the last time you heard his voice. The last time you felt the warmth of his presence in that dimly lit room where he told you his name—as if it were a secret.

And then, a week later, the letter arrived. It was folded inside a plain envelope, weathered at the edges. No return address. Just his handwritten name. The handwriting was his. You knew it the moment you saw it. With trembling hands, you opened the paper. And began to read.

“If you’re reading this… Then the war finally took me.” “I don’t know how long it will be before this reaches you, but I hope you still remember my voice. The way I tried not to feel what I felt. How I failed.” “I never said it in so many words. Because the world I live in is made of steel, smoke, and blood. And you… you were the only thing that made me want something different. Something more. Something impossible.” “I thought that if I didn’t say your name, if I didn’t look too long… I could survive you.” “But that night… I gave in. I whispered. And in that moment, I knew it was too late to protect myself from this.” “You became the memory that I will carry with me until my last breath. And if I could choose where to fall, it would be in your arms. Where I’ve never really been, but always felt like home.” “I know I’ll be just another name in the records. Another cross on the memorial. But you… you will be my name.” “Your name will be the last word my soul repeats, even after everything is over.” – John. (Now, finally, I can sign with my full name.)

You finish reading with your eyes flooded, your hands clutching the paper as if you could bring it back with the force of your touch. There is no more war. There are no more trenches. But you walk to the highest hill of the base, where the wind blows hard and the moon is as full as the night he looked at you for the last time. And there, with the letter on your chest, you whisper: “John.” And for a moment—just a moment—you swear you hear him answer.

Your name. In the voice of the wind. Like love. Like eternity.

[natrixz0700]

Whisper My Name (Price x Reader) P.1

Summary: Lots of crying

Category: anguish and sadness but love

Warnings: Death (If I forget something, remind me)

P.2

Night falls heavily over the base. Outside, the world sleeps restlessly, unaware that there are armed men and women holding chaos in their hands, trying to contain the end of everything. You walk in silence through the dimly lit corridors, feeling the weight of each step, each memory. He is there, as always, in the makeshift office. Dim light, a nearly empty bottle of whiskey, and coffee-stained maps. His military coat hanging up, his beard unshaven, and that distant look as if he lived between the now and all the lives he has seen lost.

“You should go,” he says without even looking.

You don’t answer right away. You think he already knows you’ve come for the last time. Or at least you try to believe that.

The pen he’s holding stops moving. The silence that follows is almost unbearable. You’ve never asked for this before. He’s always pushed you away with orders, with the coldness of a soldier who’s learned that to love is to lose.

“Don’t do this,” he whispers. “Don’t make this any more real than it already is.”

You step closer, hesitant, as if every inch between you could detonate something far more dangerous than any landmine. You’re standing in front of him now, and he finally looks up. His eyes are full of war. And full of you.

“You look at me like you want to keep my face forever,” you say. “But you’ve never called me by my name. Not once.”

“Because I forget everything after the war,” he replies. “Except what matters.”

“Then tell me.”

He stands up. Tall, imposing, but broken. He approaches, as if each step costs more than any mission ever undertaken. His eyes roam your face as if they were memorizing each feature for the last time. And then he says it. Your name. Without rushing. Without hiding. Like a confession. The word hangs in the air like a miracle. As if time had stopped just for that moment to happen. You close your eyes. And listen. And feel.

The sound of your name in his voice is sweeter than any promise. Crueler too. Because now you know. He feels. He has always felt. But John Price is not a free man. He belongs to a world that demands sacrifices. And you, even without wanting to, are one of them. You hold his face between your hands. “Thank you,” you say, your voice trembling. “Now I can go.” He doesn't try to stop you. Because he knows that if he does, he'll destroy you with his very presence. He'll drag you into his world — where there's no room for flowers, only trenches. You leave. One step at a time. And you don't look back.

But in the darkness of dawn, when everything goes silent — even the gunshots, even the screams — he's still there, alone, with the name he whispered held between his teeth like an unfired bullet. And you, on the other side of the world, still hear it.

Low. Hot. Breaking your heart again. Your name. In his voice. As if it were love. As if it were the end.

(I'll release the second part soon)

[natrixz0700]