#i will carve myself into you and take my time giving you this 'love' // OC: Ankur

[kaydreamman]

*kicks down your door* Hey Kay on the vtm questionaire for number 14 for death How do they feel about diablerie? for any of yours lol

heres the original reblog so anyone that wants can find the questions:

Wow so you come in, break my door and now you wont fix it? ok fine.

Since you wanted 14 and Diablerie(11) , ill do both for the vampires that more or less graced my blog and ill be doing these two as myself instead of characters since some of them wouldnt give you an actual answer and it was better formatted this way lol.

really long post ahead so read at your discretion

Bhima

III. DEATH

11. How do they feel about Diablerie?

Its...something hed love to not encounter on either side. The act feels very harsh and..very wrong. Not something hed do ever.

14. Have they ever Frenzied? What happened?

Bhima has frenzied once in the beginning of his vampire life when he was still getting used to everything and to his jumbled thinking. It did not turn out well. In the process he ended up killing his daughter because of how stressed he was for her in general and he simply blacked out when he saw her again. He sired her upon panicking about what hes done and its a whole mess he is trying to fix considering the siring was also not legalized.

Nazaire

11. How do they feel about Diablerie?

He gets why someone would do it but they dont like the idea of stealing someones "life" for power and then also having part of their soul. Sounds like a cool concept at first but he wouldnt like it to happen to him so why do it to someone else?

14. Have they ever Frenzied? What happened?

Yeah. A lot of clutch moments before they escaped the city he inhabited after their sires death and during the times he was hunted. It manifested in many ways. Some lunging at the vampires hunting them resulting in harm, sometimes results in self harm as well. He fed of a human once and they had to pretend they didnt. Never did it again.

Iulian

11. How do they feel about Diablerie?

Act of power with dubious ties to it. Nothing he hasnt seen or that would be uncommon for vampires to do. He thinks getting power like that is a cheat code and a beneficial one if you get to it but not something hell risk his skin for.

14. Have they ever Frenzied? What happened?

Thankfully for him, it has never happened.

Devon

11. How do they feel about Diablerie?

Doesnt care. He wont do it but he doesnt care if someone does. No strong opinion towards it.

14. Have they ever Frenzied? What happened?

He has never frenzied even if he was close to multiple times before. He was able to get himself as fast as he could out of high stress situations or neutralize the problem before the beast could come out.

Ankur

11. How do they feel about Diablerie?

Fun! Just dont get caught and its a plan. He hasnt done it but perhaps one day if he has the means for it, he might.

14. Have they ever Frenzied? What happened?

Yeah, a bunch of times. He is a fun of the "riding it out" or "going with the flow" so he frenzied willingly before and it proved as a very beneficial thing though risky and very very messy. Covered in blood from head to toe and surrounded by bodies but satisfied and safe. Plus, if youre quick about it, no one will ever know about your messier tendencies :)

Cecilia

11. How do they feel about Diablerie?

No. Below her. More honorable ways to get power.

14. Have they ever Frenzied? What happened?

She tried her hardest everytime to get the beast at bay since she holds a reputation so, no. She did not and is not planning to.

Nadia

11. How do they feel about Diablerie?

Tempting. Havent did it but she isnt opposed to it.

14. Have they ever Frenzied? What happened?

Nothing out of the ordinary, just very enraptured by one of her...meals that got way too messy. Only happened once tho.

Sunya

11. How do they feel about Diablerie?

Kindred do that to strengthen themselves and cover more ground by having more power, as always. Nothing shocking. They dont care about it though. They think its kind of like cheating and if you want to get big, why not set an example yourself instead of being a power sucking leech?

14. Have they ever Frenzied? What happened?

No...they....made sure not to. Theres no way that his sire would in any shape or form take that and they wouldnt be a fan of finding out what happens if the beast gets their way and their sire finds out.

[thefearfulheart]

Overdue Intro Post

Been meaning to do this for awhile in all honesty.

I'm going to be posting more oc content (content in general will be somewhat inappropriate) and most of them have heavy themes that include: abuse, cannibalism, sexual content, mild mutilation, manipulation, unhealthy power dynamic's and quite a few other theme's that I will tag appropriately when the need arises.

Would prefer minor's to not follow me given that the content I will post will be inappropriate.

Mostly will be posting about anything that interests me but a majority of it will be Malevolent, The Magnus Protocol and Vampire the Masquerade since I'm obsessed with those.

Ask me anything about my oc's if you want and I'll answer if you want. I'm easy lol

[aliasrocket]

Oo wow! First time I've put in an ask in for ya! (I hope you don't mind answering my silly little thoughts)

But how do you think Rocket would react to the reader pole dancing whether it is stripper based or professionally done? (I just think pole dancing is super neat and very hard to do and that it gets looked down upon so often so I'm just wondering<3)

(I'm totally asking for my OC Moon cause she's a pole dancer 👉👈)

You don't gotta answer if ya don't wanna! love ya!ʕ⁠ ⁠ꈍ⁠ᴥ⁠ꈍ⁠ʔ<33

I’ve always been a fan of sports like those, oml, I wanted to take this for a long time but my mom made me invest in figure skating when I was younger. I’m not even sure if pole dancing is a sport but it takes a hell of a lot of exercise to get it down right so I’m saying it is.

I know I’ve talked about reader being a bartender at knowhere in rocket x reader fics but I’ve always thought a pole stripper reader wld also work so well with Rocket mainly because. Well. Rocket’s a horny fuck. (At least in the comics, and in my heart, he is.)

I know the typical headcanon would probably be him making the dirtiest comments about you when he watches you practice but I imagine it going very differently especially if you guys have been in a relationship for quite some time.

Rocket’s eyes were very used to tracing things like wires, plugs, batteries, bolts. Very shiny things in general. Though he wasn’t quite sure he’d ever get used to glistening skin sliding against a silver pole, legs tangling and swinging in a sort of orbit as every curve and edge of you was stretched and carved into a moving piece of art before his eyes.

“Rocket, what are you doing here?” You chirped, hair reaching for the floor as your head hung completely upside down, the rest of your body outstretched at an askew angle with the pole snug between your thighs. “Thought you were still on commission.”

“Yeah, it ended a day early,” he replied, eyes lining your ass when you slowly lowered your leg, causing the arc to compress.

Rocket had definitely gotten you off that pole only to give you the best goddamn fuck in your life. And he’d done it multiple times over the span of your relationship, no surprise there when you looked so damn sexy in those clothes that had his imagination lazy from how much he didn’t have to imagine.

But today, it wasn’t about that.

Rocket settled himself into a chair by the side after asking if you wanted a water break, to which you replied that you’ve already had one. He smiled, and he didn’t know why he lowered his face when he did it.

But he found out why the moment you caught him.

“What?” You smiled right back, as if you hadn’t just caught Rocket red handed.

“Nothing, nothing.” Damn, he was still doing it, and all he could do was show you his palms as he raised his hands in defense.

You got off the pole, dusting yourself off as you took the smallest steps towards him.

“C’mon, I can’t focus with you smiling like that.”

“You don’t like me smiling?”

“I wanna know what you’re thinking Rocket.”

You locked your hands on your hips, ending up in front of him as he looked up with you with a cocked brow.

Rocket exhaled, and then, his gaze softened when he observed the way you looked at him. It was the same way he loved to look at you, spinning around, doing all those stunts with such grace and precision.

Now slumped against the back rest of the chair, he completely surrendered himself to you the moment his jaw parted.

“It’s so easy to admire you sometimes, you know?” Rocket confessed. He couldn’t bear to look at you, so his eyes dug a hole in the floor instead. “I know I get ahead of myself sometimes but fuck, you look so dedicated in what you do. Seeing you work hard for this … you’re fucking capable of anything you wanna do, princess.”

A blur reached below him and lifted his chin, and it was almost like looking directly at a shooting star. He couldn’t bear to look but now his eyes widened like he needed more of it to keep under his eyelids so he could keep seeing it when he closed his eyes.

He always knew how pretty you were, but with the way you grinned with your cheeks rising to your eyes he always regretted not letting you know sooner.

“I love you, Rocket.”

“I love you too,” he muttered your name, and just like his eyes, he sprinkled little stars all over it.

like you wouldn’t believe.

[laylajeffany]

Word Count: 800,000+ (in-progress, with regular updates) Rating: T

Summary “Wednesday, you are so new to love’s torturous sting. It simply takes time to get used to the poison, my darling. You have to build up a tolerance for it. Then – you’ll start to wonder how you ever lived without it.”

Enid accidentally summons a demon in an attempt to communicate with her wolf, and somehow – that is not Wednesday’s biggest problem upon the return to Nevermore. With a raging suspicion that Principal Weems was not actually murdered, Wednesday starts to unravel her latest mystery while trying not to unravel herself. As emerging powers cause her to manifest physical symptoms, Wednesday has to learn to rely on those around her if she is going to grow as a Raven.

Ultra slow-burn WenClair, moving forward in an organic relationship, building from roommates to best friends to more. Picking up on some plot points from S1, Wednesday develops not only new abilities, but emotions and friendships as she examines her life through her new lens of Nevermore.

If you're new to this fic and unsure about starting due to the length, below the break will give you a spoiler-filled idea about when some of the major plot points/relationships happen.

Author's Note As I am squeezing in my writing time before vacation, I am reflecting on how proud I am of this fic. This is year 21 of writing fanfiction for me, and of course as we grow, our talents naturally increase, but I have never felt so accomplished about a piece of writing before. If you need some light reading (lmfao this fic will top one million words by the end of summer), I would like to recommend my own story. I don't ever do that and I probably won't do it again - but writing this fic has been such a bright spot in my life, and every opportunity I have to carve out a few thousand words I feel myself transcend.

When I received an old Addams Family book in the mail (here) a few weeks ago, I was flipping through and found the above summary of Wednesday. I have never felt more proud to be borrowing another character, as I feel that I do Charles Addams' Wednesday justice in this writing as we explore her sensitive/poetic side in addition to the harshness of her 2022 adaptation. (Don't worry - Enid will find Wednesday's sixth toe when she finally visits the Addams family home in Chapter 21.)

Chapters 1-5: Wenclair Roommate Friendship developing as Wednesday realized she'd genuinely missed Enid over the summer.

Main focus of early chapters is Wednesday trying to determine how Weems is alive, focusing on her powers starting to develop as physical symptoms and discovering more about how to tap in to her Raven abilities with the help of her mentor, the new administrator, Dr. Zypher. Dr. Zypher (39) is a herpetologist with a psychic ability to work with reptiles. She has been dating the only other known Raven, Emiliana, for 23 years, since they met via Larissa Weems at Nevermore. These two OCs have a very supportive and important role in the story. (We needed adults and ALL the important ones were killed off in S1. These OCs have been extremely well-received by the audience and are real people with flaws and strengths, distinct personalities. No Mary-Sues here, I promsie.)

Chapter 6: Enid breaks up with Ajax, Wednesday and Enid get closer than ever when the spirit Enid released attacks again. Wednesday vows to protect her. As Wednesday has found Weems trapped in her accidental shape-shift, she starts looking for divination-related ways to change her back. Wednesday starts to have to cope with very uncomfortable feelings that emerge from the ever-darkening of her visions as her powers start to grow massively.

Chapter 8: Wednesday starts to think she's closer to Enid than she ever has been to anyone else before. Wednesday learns about the importance of being vulnerable and showing some feelings. Starts to explore ways to protect Weems in her lower life form.

Chapter 10: Wednesday wonders what attraction is supposed to feel like, starts to think there may be something wrong with her. She knows what she is feeling for Enid is more than friendship but isn't experiencing physical attraction. Wednesday casts a powerful protection spell for Enid. Enid reveals that she imprinted on Wednesday during her first transformation and this has caused her extreme stress and alienation from her pack.

Chapter 11: Wednesday and Enid confront the spirit again. As it tries to possess Enid, Wednesday's protection spell holds and she confesses that night that she won't let anything happen to her because she loves her. She admits, she isn't sure if that love is romantic. Enid agrees with the sentiment and they decide to give it all more time. The girls start to work together to help Wednesday divert from the negative energy within her divination as part of her Raven nature to blend their energy together, earning more positive energy for Wednesday shared by Enid. Enid's mother is determined that Nevermore finds something to do about Enid's imprinting.

Chapter 13: Finally, the girls are dating after the full moon. It's adorable. Enid talks to her father and requests him to visit Nevermore.

Chapter 14: Things really take off with ways to help Weems transform Halloween - Wednesday temporarily banishes the spirit with Enid's help as they have grown so close.

Chapter 15: Wednesday starts to lose herself to divination a little bit as she becomes more desperate to complete the transformation on Weems. Dr. Zypher's Raven girlfriend arrives.

Chapter 16: Wednesday finally puts the pieces together and knows what she has to do to transform Weems. Enid's father arrives - she formally leaves her pack and considers Wednesday her main family. The Addams Family have accepted her whole-heartedly.

Chapter 17:-19 Successful transformation of Weems leads to extreme physical consequences for Wednesday. Lots of Wenclair Hurt/Comfort Wednesday resolves lots of tension with her family

Chapter 20: Closure of the first semester of events Wednesday invites herself into the "Nevermore Network" - an ambiguous concept alluded to throughout the story of how the Outcast world is all connected. These adults are increasingly interested in Wednesday's extreme shows of power and she goes behind her family/admin wishes to meet up with them when she returns to school in January.

Chapter 21: Yuletide & New Year - Enid at the Addams Family House

Chapter 22: Start of Second Semester at Nevermore Wednesday gets herself involved in some major drama within the Outcast community via the Nevermore Network Setting the stage for the second semester of events

[angryducktimemachine]

Hi Ed!

I really really love your drawings, specially the ones with holmes and your penciled ones. I hope it’s not to bold/rude of me to say but I’d love to draw like you, do you have any tips on where to start? I have some basics from forever ago but I very rusty on my abilities. Should I draw using references? A particular tutorial on YouTube? Something entirely different?

With love, from a fan of yours

Well first step you want to be a 11 year old that gets absolutely obsessed with Warrior Cats-

Ok jokes aside (and thank you very much first!!) I'll see what actual advice I can give you! My approach to art is not really actively focused on improving (as I do not want to do this as my job and so just take the motivation to practice something specific as it comes.) but I'll try and recall what has helped me over the years.

Using references is definitely a very useful thing, I'm currently trying to use them more when it comes to drawing fabric but they're useful for all sorts of things. what I did and do personally as well is just. Watching people. Trying to figure out how the movement of a body works, the way arms can bend or legs are stretched. This works both with your own body (sometimes I just stand in front of a mirror trying to see how my arm bends over my head to get a feeling for it's movement.) and just observing people in day to day life! I find this technique easier than "static" photo references cause I get a better feeling of the body but they can both be useful.

I never really watched YouTube tutorials however what I did watch is hours and hours and hours of speedpaints - i think they're really fun if you are looking for different tricks and techniques to try, the way this artist does linework vs how this one colours- i have a few up myself.

Third, if you're anything like me and thrive on compliments; get yourself a buddy who's as hyped about your own art as you are. I feel like this helps with both inspiration and motivation, most of the time when I had art, be it when i was still drawing cats or Star Wars OCs to now drawing Sherlock Holmes - I also had a friend who was currently into the same things I was - or even better, was actively creating characters and stories with me which gave me lots of ideas to draw.

Oh also a little side note if you ever find yourself frustrated with your art or struggle to find inspiration, it often helps me to switch things up a bit, do something different. Get out actual paint. Try (and fail, in my case) to carve something. Paint a wall. Learn origami. Do something with model clay. Convince yourself that you can sew anything if you just tried hard enough.

I hope at least a few of those things are useful - explaining how I got here art wise is a bit difficult cause I mainly just picked up a pen and then just never stopped. But art starts somewhere for us all and I hope you can find joy in creating!!

[themorticians-world]

I. Death .I

Xavier Thorpe x O.C

Helloooooo, this is my first time writing a fan fiction (I know lame) I usually just read them and whatever but I've had this idea for months now so I figured better late than never. *All copy rights go to the creators of Wednesday, and the music to Melanie Martinez. Those are their's to claim they just helped inspire me.* Also this has an Original Character and OC family. The last name hasn't been mentioned yet but it's Cauldron! Pls be nice, and let me know if there's anything I missed. This story WILL have smut, but I'm doing chapters.. Enjoy:)

"They're carving my name in the grave again

Their flowers fresh and their faces wet

my body has died, but I'm still alive

look over your shoulder I'm back from the dead.."

As I awaken, I feel my wings flutter. I know this is a rebirth, my previous body leaving this plane. I can feel as my body ignites, and I go through stages of hatching. As I breath in my new life and what's to come of my physical body, the flashbacks of what happened start to come full force. Fire surrounds me, everywhere I look I see the tall burning hot flames engulfing my once childhood home. I whimper as I realize I can’t find my family, “MOM” I yell into the whooshing of the flames “MOM PLEASE” I shout again, my voice cracking this time. Gathering myself I assess the situation, I know we can’t die, we’re Nymph’s, each one of us has different parts that makes us a unique type of nymph. I pick up my tethered dress from the floor searching for anyone who could be here, “Dad? Evan? Mom?” I try again. Realization starts to sink in, as I crumple myself onto the floor as tears wrack through my body. I know my fate, I know we’ll meet again in another life but each time this happens there is always a fear it’ll be my last time having my family with me. Gasping, I emerge from the dirt and gravel that was once my grave. I shake my wings and exhale a breath I didn’t know I had been holding. Shaking the dirt and debris off my wings, I expand my chest to inhale a large breath before sending my signal in search of my family. 

As I wait I can feel the burning hot pit in my lower stomach, aching for a feeding. Looking around I see nothing but trees, for miles. Huffing I began my journey in search of a mate to feed off their energy. Ever since I could remember my mother, a beautiful nymph met and fell in love with my father, a daring incubus. Ever since they first met, as Adam and Eve, they had been inseparable in each life time. Eventually having my brother, Evan, myself Ophelia, and our dearly departed baby sister Angelica. Each life being difficult in its own way, losing Angelica was a different type of pain for everyone. We all knew permanent death was possible for any nymph or demon, we just hadn’t realized how quick it could happen to babies during the French Revolution. 

Landing on the ground, I begin to observe where I am, to memorize this lay out and hope I can fly my way back before my family finds my signal and comes to me. As I walk through the forest, in the dark and cold night, I become overly aware of how naked I am. Searching for anything, I find a shed with a light on inside. Flying up to peek through the window I see a handsome young man, painting a horrifying monster. ‘This could be my feed’ I thought as I landed on the ground ready to take on the appearance of who this man could want to mate with. I straighten my back and throw my long black hair over my shoulder, and lower my horns back into my head to hide my indifference. I began to feign my innocence, as I knock on the door to the shed. “Uh, yeah just a second!” Says the young man, I can hear scrambling and something falling to the ground, as foot steps approach I wrap my arms around my chest and use one of my hands to cover my pubic area. “Hey sorry Principal Weems I’m just finishing t-“ He cuts himself off as he sees me. “Hi, I got lost in the woods, do you think you could help me?” I give a shy smile and tilt my head, hoping he can see his dream person in front of him. “Uh yeah uh, here come in, I’ll get a blanket” he manages to strain out, whipping himself around to grab a black blanket off the old ratty couch he has. Smiling gracefully I wrap myself in the blanket, giving him full view of my body before ‘adjusting’ it to feel more comfortable against my hardened nipples. “Thank you, I don’t know how much longer I could’ve lasted without something to warm me up” I say in a hushed whisper, leaning in towards him with a blush on my face. “Yeah of course, not a problem” he says scratching his head, fixing his half up half down pony tail. “Care to introduce yourself?” I smirk, loosening my grip on the blanket a bit, in hopes he catches more skin. “My name is Xavier Thorpe, I’m a student here at Nevermore Academy, its nice to meet you” Xavier extends his hand with a blush covering his cheeks, he seems nervous as I shake his hand and give him a perfect smile back. As I’m about to introduce myself, I hear my fathers signal through the wind, telling me they are here for me. Xavier looks around confused at the high pitch whistle, but I turn to face the door, “I think I’ll be seeing you again, thank you for the help.. See you later, Xavier.” I whisper to him. “Wait what?” He yells after me but I’ve already gained my wings to fly towards my parents. I smile feeling a light pinch in my stomach and ache in my core as I leave without feeding. I fly as fast as I can, excited to see my parents and brother, and land shortly after my flight began. “Momma! Dad! Where’s Evan?” I proclaim, wrapping them in my arms and squeezing tightly. “Oh honey, he hasn’t hatched again yet. We’re waiting to hear his signal” my mom reassures me, squeezing me back in the hug. I push her back slightly, confused because Evan is usually the fastest to rebirth. 

“Mom what do you mean? We have to keep signalling for him then, he has to find us!” I say, tears threatening to spill over onto my cheeks. 

“Ophelia, relax, not much time has passed since we died last time. I’m sure he’s just being lazy, you know how Ev is!” My dad tries to cheer me up, rubbing my shoulder. “How are you guys already in clothes? We need to find shelter, I need a feed, desperately.” I say to the couple, in hopes they can’t sense my eagerness to mate. “Well honey, we’ve been hatched for a few months now, we’ve settled down in a town not far from here called Jericho, and they have a school for people like us” My mom tells me, smiling at me and playing with the ends of my hair. I nod quietly, and motion for them to show me the way to where I will live out this life. Wrapping the blanket tighter around me, I suddenly feel exposed and confused. What do they mean they’ve been hatched for a few months? And why did it take me so long to come back to them this time? Where is Evan? Thoughts race through my head, as I follow in the steps of my parents. As we reach town, my mom pulls me into a small side hug and smiles down at my small stature. “Honey, here’s our new home, we’ve already decorated a room for you, but we need to have a discussion tomorrow about some new rules your father and I have set.” She says firmly. I nod again, not quite ready to speak as I take in my new surroundings. 

The house is cute, cozy but not small, inviting and warm. I take in the outdoor decorations, and take notice of the trees, that are a variety of orange, yellow, red and brown leaves. The house itself is a black brick house, with white windows and a signature red door. There’s pumpkins on the steps, and little ghosts hanging from some of the trees. My dad unlocks the front door, gesturing me into the heat of the house. My jaw falls as I take in my new home, it’s beyond perfect for our family. The grey walls are the perfect shade of cool neutral, the antiques my mother must have thrifted decorate the area beautifully, a gorgeous wood burning fire place is in the middle of the living room, surrounded by black velvet couches, a coffee table shaped like a coffin, and perfectly preserved bats all over the walls as decor. The perfect amount of spooky and cozy, just like we like it. 

“Mom, could you show me to my room? We will need to go clothes shopping tomorrow!” I smile at her, adjusting the blanket that now feels too warm in the heat of the living room. My mom nods, and motions me to follow her up the black spiral staircase. I take in the paintings as I take my time going up the stairs, admiring the craftsmanship of the artist. When I reach the final step, my mom turns and points to the black door with a sign shaped like a bat on it, stating “Ophelia’s room”. I jump and squeal, excited to see my room and bed, I barge in and turn the light on. Instantly I’m consumed with the comfort of my favourite items. A large black canopy bed in the centre of the room, with black nightstands on either side, and matching black and white lamps. I can’t help myself as I drink in all the details of the room, I see a glass chandelier, a black desk with a type writer, a coffin shaped mirror hanging on my wall beside what appears to be a Jack and Jill bathroom with a room on the opposite side. As I step into my room, I open a door to my right, to see a rather large walk in closet- that is filled to the brink with black, brown and grey clothes, shoes and purses. I turn to my mother with a big smile, “Thank you so much mom, you always know exactly what I love.” I bring her into a hug. “Of Course honey, have a shower, get changed into some comfy clothes and hop into bed, it’s pretty late.” She smiles softly before turning to the door and closing it gently behind her. 

I take the blanket off and toss it to the side, and retrieve a towel, a black tank top and black plaid pj shorts from my closet and head towards the bathroom. Humming a tune, I turn the light on and begin my search for a hairbrush. Once I’ve located my brush, I turn the shower on and wait for it to heat up. Fixing my posture, I take in my new appearance in the mirror. I’m short, with my usual long black straight hair. I have a curvier figure this time around, with more of a tummy than I’m use to. I shake my head, adjust my eyes and relax- allowing my natural form to come out. My hazel eyes darken to almost black, my horns make their appearance and my ears point. My tongue feels heavy in my mouth as I take in its pointed snake appearance, that’s new. Shrugging, I finish brushing my hair, and get into the heat of the shower. As I let the water run over me, my mind begins to become engulfed with the ache that has settled in my core. Ignoring the feeling, I shampoo twice, condition, wash my face and shave, before washing my body and rinsing off. Turning the shower off, I grab my towel and begin a night routine, taking notice of the very expensive skin care products my mother must have researched before purchasing. Once I’ve finished my skin care, and brushing my teeth, I throw my hair into a towel and head into my room to settle in for the night. As I hear what sounds like a television show coming from downstairs, I nod off into a deep sleep, preparing for the next day, and my next feeding.

[monstrousvoice]

Warm Waters Soothe Insecurities

Fandom: Cult of the Lamb

Relationship: Kudaai X Female OC

AN: “I have requests and a Secret Santa Thing I need to write. These are very important.” I say to myself.

“What if we write about our OC only like, 3 people know about, and a character only those same 3 people care about being soft and in love?” Say my hands.

“Perfect.” I say.

So uh yeah. Here’s my Reindeer OC Selene in a hot spring with Kudaai. (In all seriousness if you liked this please for the love of god tell me. I am so fucking insecure about posting this, I almost quit writing it multiple times and fell into a bad case of self conscious writer’s block because of it.)

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Insecurity, First Time ‘I Love You’s, Love Confessions, Casual Nudity, Bathing/Washing, Slight Daddy Kink

Summary: Having a moment to relax with your mate is one of life’s delicacies.

Read it on AO3!

“Once again my little doe, you’re right. I did need this…” Kudaai groaned as he settled into the water of the hot spring. Steam rose all around him in a thick veil, heat seeping through his scales and into the sore muscles and joints of his aching body. 

 He rolled his neck until he heard a satisfying ‘click’ of his vertebrae popping and sagged in relief. The dragon managed to settle comfortably on a stone ledge carved into the pool and rested his burly arms along the cool stone rim.

 Already he felt relief in his ankles and calves, the muscles slowly unknotting all the way up towards his hips and lower back. His thick, scaled tail gave a wag under the surface of the water, sending ripples across the surface of the pool and splashing over the edges.

 “Heehee~ I thought you had learned by now big daddy,” A girlish giggle reached his ears, “I’m always right~” Selene teased as she stepped out from behind a group of smooth boulders. 

 Only a towel covered her furry form from his view, her delicate hands keeping the cloth tight. Her hooves clicked against the stone ground as she walked towards the hot spring with an excited wiggle to her hips.

 “Apparently not.” Kudaai smirked, his teeth peeking from under his lip. “Please tell me that’s all you have on…” He purred, narrowing his golden eyes. The deer sent him a coy look, prancing around the edge of the pool to where he sat.

 “Why sir blacksmith! To imply that a lady would swim in the nude! What kind of doe do you take me for?” She stuck her nose into the air, her snobbish act ruined by one green eye peeking open to look at him as the corner of her lips pulled upwards into a smirk. The dragon felt a feeling in his chest, warm and syrupy as he looked upwards to her - a drastic contrast to the feeling in his lower gut, a heat building there not from the warm water. 

 “The nasty kind.” He growled in response, thick black tongue making an appearance to lick his along his maw in a lewd show just for her. 

 Selene blushed furiously in response, her ears folding back as she looked towards the floor, unable to meet his gaze any longer. It only made his purr grow louder, sounding more like a true bellow as he watched her squirm, her hips wiggling in response to his attention.

 “Hmm, nothing smart to say little mama?” She doesn’t respond at first, only looking at him with big doe eyes and pouting lips he wants to kiss. One of her fingers is idly tracing the pattern in her fur on her thigh.

 “Perhaps action is easier?” He sits up straighter, tilting his muzzle up. He doesn’t have to try very hard - even with him sitting he’s still so tall compared to her. His head easily reaches her chest with him slouching. 

 She takes his invite and steps closer, leaning to press a sweet kiss to his mouth that has that warm, syrupy feeling from before squeezing hard around his heart. She’s so precious when she gets shy…

 Selene pulls away much too quickly from their kiss, but she’s smiling again.

 “You and your teasing…you’re lucky I love it~” Kudaai gives a huff, smoke billowing from his nose.

 “Not my fault you’re so easy to tease~ Get in already you little minx.” 

 He wanted her soft body pressed against him, the curve of her hip fitting perfectly in his claw and against his side as they traded kisses and stories.

 She giggles again and finally lets her towel fall open. As she lays the cloth on a nearby ledge Kudaai has a chance to ogle her curves properly. Her arms wrapped tight around her middle in a hug as she shivered from the cool night air, her breasts being pushed together in a tantalizing display that had to be on purpose.

 "Ooh-so warm!" The reindeer gave a meek shiver as she placed a hoof into the steaming water, humming in delight at the heat racing up her leg. The rest of her followed quickly, small waves rippling across the water’s surface at her movements as she glided towards Kudaai’s side. Her hands came into contact with his chest, fingers roaming across the broad expanse of muscle and fat layered under his black and gold scales.

 He could feel her legs pull up and curl in place next to his own thighs, her knees pressing against him but not uncomfortably. She nestled herself into his side from there, her own shoulder resting against his ribs as her hands traced idle patterns into his scales. The dry fur of her neck and face was already losing volume and flattening from the steam surrounding them.

 He brought his arm down from the stone lip of the pool to wrap around her under the water. His hand covered the expanse of her hip as he held her impossibly closer to his side. His thumb rubbed small circles where it layed, the temptation to squeeze her ass, just a little, was too strong to ignore. Not that she minded.

 “Thank you for bringing me here daddy~ It’s so nice…” Selene cooed despite her cheek being squished against his pectoral muscle she was so intent on smothering herself on. She looked so small and cute, he felt like such a brute compared to her…

 What did she even see in him, really? He was big and intimidating, covered in scars and old wounds - some of them by his own mistakes and not enemies. What did he have to offer someone like her? 

 With a start he realized she had spoken to him.

 “O-of course little mama. Like I said, you were right. I needed this more than I realized…” The blacksmith let out a sigh, trying to push those thoughts away. It didn’t matter why she was with him, only that she was and that he wanted to enjoy every moment with her before she came to her senses and left him.

 His mind cleared as his eyes slipped closed. Peace, or something like it he supposed, making him feel calm and relaxed. It was all because of the doe nestled into his side right now. She was so…

 He isn’t a poet. He’s never been good with words, not like his younger brother. Coming up with ways to describe his sweet Selene was a feat he would never overcome. Truly, he didn’t care to. He just wanted her to stay with him for a little while longer…

 His hand wrapped around her hip gives another squeeze to the soft flesh, and she gives a meek mewl of surprise at the feeling. She doesn’t move away, to his relief. One of her own hands leaves his chest to slip under the water, ghosting over his. Her fingers thread through his open ones to hold the back of his hand in a gentle embrace as he keeps idly rubbing and massaging the area.

 Selene suddenly pulls her head away from his chest, only to turn and press her lips against the heated scales she was resting against. Kudaai can’t fight the smile quirking the corner of his mouth, despite the years of self restraint that have taught him not to show such emotion.

 In this place, he thinks…maybe it’s okay. To let his guard down a little…

 Selene is looking up at him now, big green eyes looking so earnest and loving it chokes him, his heart beating hard and fast as he tries to calm it. 

 “You feel better then? The heat is helping?” She asks, voice soft and soothing. Does she even know? Does she know how much power she holds over him? By The One Below she could kill him with a smile like that. He would die happy, he would brag to the Lord Below that he died to the most beautiful sight ever - this smile. 

 “Hn-...yes. Yes I feel much better than this morning sweet girl.” He manages to purr in response.  She looks delighted at his words, ears perking and eyes lighting up like it’s the best news he could have ever told her.

 “G-good! That’s very good~ I could even…I could give your shoulders a massage too, if you’d like?” The dragon has to bite his tongue hard to not openly groan in bliss at her words. He just barely catches himself.

 “...An adorable, sexy doe sitting with her thighs near my head, rubbing her soft hands on me?” She blushes furiously at his words but doesn’t retract her offer. “How can I say no to such a thing? I must be damn dreaming…” She giggles into her hand even as she starts to sit up properly. He is disappointed when he realizes that this means he cant hold her cute tush anymore, but figures a massage is a fair trade off.

 Both his burly arms settle at his sides in the water, one of them being offered to his beloved so she can lift herself out of the spring and onto the stone rim. She presses another kiss to his scales, this time to his already warm cheek.

 “Thank you~” she whispers, like it’s a secret between them to share and keep. His heart can’t take this, he can feel it squeezing tighter in his chest at everything she does…

 With some shifting Selene makes herself comfortable behind him, her legs wrapping around his upper back and allowing her closer access to him without her knees knocking against the blades embedded in his spine. She brought her hands onto the broad expanse of his shoulders, fingers dancing along his scales in a way Kudaai would almost describe as awed. He heard her give a soft hum before another soft kiss was pressing against an old scar that had healed over the blade still lodged there.

 He was always nervous when she saw his back, seeing the barely healed gore that remained from literal centuries of fighting to protect what's his. Kudaai knows it's ugly, knows it's unlovable. And yet Selene always seemed so…happy when he let her see. Like his trust in her actually made her feel good. He couldn’t understand why, he wasn’t worth much outside of his forge craft…

 It was when Selene started to apply pressure to his aching muscles that she started to quietly ramble to him. His eyes slipped closed once more as her soothing voice washed over his troubled mind.

 “I really do love your body Kudaai…So big and strong, always so warm…You make me feel so safe and loved despite the lands we live in.” The dragon couldn’t help the way his body further relaxed into her hold, his head falling back to rest comfortably against her plush chest and tummy. Her fur was wet and slightly chilled now that she was out of the water, but she didn’t seem to mind the cold. He figured it had to do with her upbringing from the North.

 “I love your chest and tummy too~ Laying across you, or you laying on top of me, it just-it makes me feel…good in a way I can’t explain…” She trailed off as her hands made their way to the front of his body. Her fingers rubbing soothing circles into the meaty muscle of his pectorals, her arms circling around his neck. He angled his head to bump his muzzle against hers, his golden eyes staring intensely into her own green ones.

 “You know my heart belongs to you, sweet girl. No need for empty flattery.”

 The doe gasped in response, looking back at him with wide - dare he say, hurt - eyes. 

 “It’s not empty flattery! I mean every word I say.” Her brow furrowed. “I wish you wouldn’t do that, Kudaai.”

 He stayed silent. His gaze left hers to stare at the distant tree line.

 “...Kudaai? Why do you always…?” Selene trailed off. Her hands stopped the soothing rub along his muscles to instead trace patterns along the scales. She always fidgets when nervous, and it’s his fault this time…

 Sometimes he wishes he had the knack for talking to others the way Claunek could. His younger brother had always been the more sociable of them both. 

 “Forgive me love. I’m…I’m not good at…-you know how words are for me-” He lifted a clawed hand into the air, open as if he could pluck the words he needed out the steam surrounding them. 

 “Shh…take your time big daddy. I’m not going anywhere.” She cooed in response, pressing more kisses to the side of his face and muzzle. He could tell his teeth were in the way of her lips, but she didn’t seem to care. She just kept pressing kisses along his maw, overbite croc teeth or no.

 Instead of letting his hand drop he moved it towards her own face, cupping her cheek and rubbing the soft fur there. It was a silent thanks as he gathered his own thoughts, his claws even moving up towards the base of her large floppy ears and rubbing. The content sigh he pulled from her let him know he was touching the right spot.

 Eventually, he sighs.

 “I…I want to be honest with you about my thoughts. It’s just…hard to find the right words. I much prefer when you do the talking.” He tried teasing her about her chatty nature and got an amused huff and a smile in return. 

 “...For so long I didn’t think I would ever…find a mate. I even…” He grunts, feeling more self-conscious than ever by admitting this. “I even asked my brother before we met if he saw anything…” Selene didn’t laugh to his relief. Her hands just continued dancing across his scales.

 “And you…you looked so beautiful when we first met, so put together and on top of your work. And when I approached you looked so…so frightened. You couldn’t even speak to me properly…” 

 Her hands stopped.

 “I don’t know what I did to change your view of me, but I hope with every fiber of myself that I can keep it up. That you’ll see me as your mate and not the…the big ugly brute I am…” Kudaai squeezed his eyes shut and grit his teeth. He hated this, this feeling of vulnerability and bareness. She could break him into splinters right now without even speaking.

 He spent so many centuries keeping to himself, doing what he needed to do for Claunek to grow up happy and content. Every one of instincts was screaming at him for going against his hard learned habits.

 “Oh Kudaai…” Selene whispered, her soft lips pressing to his temple as she spoke. “Kudaai I was never frightened of you. Never. From the moment we met I was…I was so in awe that a-that such a beautiful person would even look my way.”

 The dragon’s eyes slid back open slowly, staring at nothing in the distance. A feeling he couldn’t name, one that made his chest feel tight and his eyes sting was building up inside him.

 “I was nervous when we met, yes. But not because you’re terrifying. Not to me. I saw someone so…so protective. A perfect provider and defender who made me feel breathless with just a look.”

 “You-” His deep voice cracked, his throat feeling dry. “You think I’m…I’m beautiful? With…with my size? My stomach, my scars, my teeth!?” The doe snorted where she was still pressed against his cheek.

 “Stars Kudaai, yes. I was smitten with you from the very start. I love those things about you! Its-it’s so embarrassing to admit but when you actually talked to me I got so h-hot and bothered.” She buried her face against his and squeezed, preventing him from being able to loom at her face. His neck still snapped in her direction, his jaw falling open at her words.

 “Wh-what?” Her voice came out muffled.

 “Y-yeah. I-...By The One Below I wanted you to bend me over and fuck me right then and there. I wanted to marry you Kudaai. I knew it right then.” 

 He couldn’t believe what she was saying. There was no way any of this could be true. Selene is so beautiful and kind, thoughtful and smart and stubborn and shy and-and perfect-

 She really thought the same of him?

 “S-Selene, please-” He needed to see her, to see her eyes-

 The reindeer understood. She always understood. Her arms loosened their hold around his thick neck as she pulled back from him. He moved further into the water and turned to look at her properly. Her hooves dangled in the water as her hands fiddled nervously with the thick fur lining her neck and chest. Her green eyes met his own with a sincerity that made his heart ache.

 “I love you, Kudaai.” She whispered. 

 “...I love you too Selene.” He kneeled on the ledge he had previously been sitting on, bringing his heavy arms around her much smaller frame and enveloping her into his hold. She nuzzled right up against him, face pressed against his heartbeat, the one she owned.

 He buried his own muzzle against the top of her head, breathing in her sweet scent.

 She loved him.

 Loved.

 Him.

 That was the first time they had ever said such words to each other. This was real. What they had together. He wanted to kiss her.

 He pulled away to do just that, pressing his muzzle against hers in a kiss that had their teeth clacking against eachother’s, the desperate need to be closer driving them.

 They parted for breath and pressed their foreheads together, breathing each other in. Kudaai felt one of her hands against his cheek, her thumb gently swiping against the black scales under his eye. He felt warm water smear and pulled back in confusion.

 Selene was smiling at him in the most gentle way, like he was an animal that would skitter away at the slightest movement. He brought his own hand up and wiped at his other eye, feeling more wetness on his cheek.

 He wasn’t sure when he had started crying.

 “It’s okay baby. It’s okay.” She whispered. “I love you.” 

 The dragon heaved a deep breath and let it out slow, blinking hard as pulled her close again. It was okay. Selene was here, she wouldn’t-...She could be trusted with this. 

 He moved his hands down her waist and grabbed handfuls of her, lifting her from the stone and bringing her into his own lap. She didn’t protest, only giving an adorable squeak at the movement. He settled back onto the ledge himself, holding her to his chest for more snuggles in the steaming water surrounding them.

 Eventually they would have to get out. They would both be hungry for dinner.

 For now…He just wanted to hold her and be held in return.

[apollodarling-writes]

Could we have all the ice reactions to being rejected? Like us wanting nothing to do with them, they aren’t our type. Just no. We don’t like anyone else we just don’t like them.

OC REACTIONS TO BEING REJECTED:

cw: angst, winter is canonically yandere, winter is a bitch fr, hurt/comfort

AYAMI MIYU:

"I'm sorry, Ayami. I can't return your feelings."

You could see the tears welling up in her eyes. Truly, it made you feel bad, but you wouldn't force yourself to love her if you didn't. You wouldn't give her any false hope either. You've experienced such things and it was an awful thing to do.

As you looked closer at her, it was apparent that she was beautiful. Even as the fat tears rolled down her cheeks, you couldn't deny that she was still very pretty. You weren't exactly sure how someone of her caliber fell in love with you, but you can't choose who you fall for either. 

“I-Is there someone else? Is there something wrong with me?” Ayami whines, her bottom lip quivering. 

“No, Ayami. I’m not interested in anyone else. I promise.” You place a hand on top of her head, then gently pull her into a hug. “There’s nothing wrong with you and there’s nothing wrong with falling in love, either. I’m just not... No one has caught my eye like that. You’re still my best friend and you’re still very important to me.”

You pause for a moment, rubbing circles into the small of her back, then pull away just enough to look her in the eye. 

“Ayami. Never ever feel like you aren’t good enough for someone. People have types and sometimes people aren’t ready to fall in love, so their brain makes sure that they don’t... But, most importantly, don’t feel like this is the end of the world. There are billions of people in this world. There are tons of people in San Francisco and even in the college we go to, there are thousands.”

Ayami buries her head into your chest again, wrapping her arms around your waist, muffled whines and sobs coming from the heartbroken girl.

“This won’t change anything, right?” 

“Of course not. It’d be silly to let our friendship be ruined because of this.”

“...Okay.”

HAYASHI TAKAHIRO:

“I’m sorry, Hayashi. I don’t feel the same way...” With each word you spoke, you could see the way he visibly deflated and the way his posture caved. As you finished your rejection, the tears brimming in his eyes spilled, carving trails down his previously flushed cheeks. 

“Ah... I see.” Clutching the bouquet of [favorite flower], he casts his gaze to the floor, finding it more interesting than the way your [color] optics gazed at him. “Is... is there someone else? Someone who’s caught your eye?” 

You suck in a breath as you hear the waver in his voice. You could hear the way he was barely keeping it together. 

“No... There’s no one else. I’m just not... I’m just not interested in anyone right now. A relationship would be too much with the workload I have. Homework and studying take up more time than I’d like, so I just... I’m not seeking a relationship, nor do I want one.”

“I see...” Slowly spinning on his heels, he makes his way out of your dorm, sniffling and silencing his cries. 

Ambrose:

“Ambrose... I don’t...” That was enough for him to understand. The man hangs his head sullenly, placing his hands in his pockets.

“Scheiße ... ich habe mich gerade zum Narren gemacht.“ He murmurs. You tilt your head at this, not quite understanding what he just said. Sure, he taught you some German, but not enough to understand all of what he said.

“Nothing. Just, um, forget this ever happened okay? I don’t want this to change anything.”

“It won’t, I promise. I still want my best friend.” He flinches at the title, nodding a bit and walking to his next class. 

Scheiße ... ich habe mich gerade zum Narren gemacht: Shit... I just made a fool of myself.

Joker:

“I’m sorry, Joker. I, um...”

Joker clicks his tongue, forcing a laugh. “I fucking got you so good! Didn’t even know that I was joking. Fucking dumbass!” 

Joker slaps his knee a few times to make his act more believable, but you saw the hurt in his eyes and the way his lip trembled ever so slightly. “Joker...”

Joker’s ‘laughter’ trails off, his gaze fixed on the laces of his shoes. The man releases a hefty sigh. “That obvious, huh?”

All you could do was hum in response; you didn’t like hurting him. There was a pregnant pause before he spoke up. 

“Is it because of someone else? Is it... is it because I don’t have a body of my own? Would that change anything?”

Your jaw fell agape at his inquiry. Why would that mean anything to you? Sometimes you just don’t understand his thought process.

“Joker, even if you don’t have a body of your own, it wouldn’t change anything if I did have feelings for you.” You say softly. You gently place your hand on his head, just like you always did when trying to calm him, but he flinched as if he were burned. With a heavy heart, you pull your hand away. 

“There’s no one else. I just... don’t have feelings for anyone.” He’s quiet for quite some time before he abruptly turns to you, taking your hands in his.

“Two months.” Joker mumbles, gazing at you with a new-found determination. “Give me two months to make you fall in love with me. If after two months you still don’t have feelings for me, I’ll accept it.”

You part your lips to speak, but he cuts you off. 

“Please... Please, [Name]. Let me try this. I-I can’t-” Joker’s voice breaks, tears threatening to spill over his lashline. “I love you so much. I just want to try. You don’t have to, but I’d love to try anyways.”

You think for a moment. “If... If it doesn't work, what then..?” 

You saw the way his determination wavered for a moment, considering the possibility. 

“I’ll accept it. We’ll just be friends.” At this, you silently nod, causing a grin to split his face.

EROS:

“Eros, I don’t... I don’t- I can’t-” 

Eros crumbled at this. The smile that painted his face dropped, the light in his eyes snuffed out, tears quickly filling the now empty space. He opens his mouth to speak, but quickly closes it again, repeating this process a few times. 

“I... understand. I’ll need some time to heal from this, so I-I might be distant for a bit... but you’re still my best friend.” 

“I’m sorry.” Was all you could muster. 

Eros chuckles dryly, shaking his head, mumbling before walking away, “You can’t control it.” 

KURAYAMI ‘WINTER’ EIJI:

“Winter. What the fuck would make you think I would ever have feelings for you?” Your voice rings through what was silence like a knife coated in poison. You thread fingers through your hair, an unamused smile splitting your cheeks.

“I get it now. This was going to be another one of those fuckin’ pranks of yours, wasn’t it?”

“I don’t understand why this is so hard to believe, [Name]. You’re objectively very attractive to me, but your personality is what did me over. You’re very... headstrong and intelligent. I admire that.” Winter huffs a sigh.

“Winter. Are you- Are you fucking kidding me right now? No. I will not and I will never be romantically interested in you. Get the fuck outta my sight.”

Winter’s gaze hardens, his fists clenching at his sides. “I think you mistunderstood. You don’t have a goddamn choice, [Name].”

“Of cour-”

“No. You don’t have a choice. You will love me whether you like it or not. If I have to make you love me, if I have to use psychologicla tactics, whatever it may be- mark my fucking words. You will fall at my feet.”

While you gazed at him with a mixture of anger and horror, you hadn’t noticed the syringe he pulled from his jacket pocket. This was just the beginning of the worst.

[cafecourage]

Had not thought that far into it, I’ll need to let the idea simmer for a bit before I have all the details. But yes. I am magical girl now.

Warning: long ask — at least on mobile as I’m typing. This got a little ramble-y since I started talking about my main OC’s powers.

Yes, I have a guardian. But I’ve got no clue as to who they are or when I got the egg. I assume I had it for a while.

To answer your question of what powers in my au of your au where I’ve inserted myself, I’m going with my typical OC’s powers for the sake of my brain cells (just woke up and am on Tumblr to try and get brain to agree that sleep is done).

Soul magic (sort of? I don’t like the word soul but have yet to come up with a better word — in my overly complicated botw au is a more intense version of the aura magic that most people have).

I can sense the magical essence (aura) of all living beings. But that sense is more fine tuned, so I can also tell the intention behind every spell before it’s fully cast. I start with support magic, able to boost the spells of others around me (including boosting plants/animals nearby so they can protect me in the field even though I do use a sword/bow thing? Not entirely sure lol). If I try hard enough, usually results in at least a killer headache if not outright passing out, I can muffle or cancel out the spells of others.

Eventually, after being stuck somewhere with a super powerful big boss with nothing else alive around, I realize I’ve been an idiot and that I can use my powers on my own soul. And that it’s a lot more effective that way. (This is what I get for doing what’s traditionally taught for relatively “weak” combat powers like mine instead of carving my own path 🙄)

I then learn how to harden my own magic essence and can use it as a shield or a weapon. My weapon I mentioned earlier is magic and I can now pass my magic through it and it becomes able to keep up with magical combat.

That’s about when Time stops giving me grief about the field being dangerous.

Second part of your question: does Wind know who I am and do I go on magical girl adventures with him? At first, nope he’s got no clue, but yes I do :)

I don’t recognize him at first, because I would assume the whole guardian transformation thing would change one’s magic signature a bit, so with just the the unenhanced aura magic (that never goes away for me. As soon as I realize that particular sixth sense is *not* normal I start to question whether or not I’m completely human — yeah, I don’t know how to explain that. Can you tell these powers weren’t designed for this AU? Lol) Once I realize that I wouldn’t be sure anymore.

I do figure it out eventually, but I’m not gonna tell him. At least not yet. I still haven’t fully realized that not everyone has the ability to recognize magic auras to the same degree I do while transformed. I just assume he already knows and hasn’t said anything, so I don’t either.

And no, I don’t have a tag. I’m hereby claiming funfetti cake.

- Glitter ✨

oh man, this sounds like the Super Hero I made for my thesis film. Instead of spirit energy/aura, it was light manipulation.

I imagine you are all decked out like a mage/oracle. You can fight with a crystal ball!! Or like a telescope. OR A CAMERA.

TAKE A PICTURE OF THE PERSON AND YOU CAN BE ABLE TO MATERIALIZE THE ENERGY OR THAT'S HOW YOU CAN SEE IT!

I LOVE THIS SO MUCH.

[bloodylullaby]

Give Me Something Beautiful

Summary: Morrigan's ordinary life takes an extraordinary turn when Noah Sebastian, the lead singer of Bad Omens, stumbles upon her quaint little shop, adorned with her captivating photography. Intrigued by her talent and drawn to her genuine spirit, Noah invites Morrigan to capture the essence of his band's concert through her lens. As they spend time together, their initial friendship blossoms into a deep and meaningful connection, fueled by their shared love for art and music. Despite the challenges they face as their worlds collide, Morrigan and Noah navigate the complexities of fame and intimacy, ultimately finding solace and strength in each other's arms. Through their journey from strangers to lovers, they discover that amidst life's chaos, true beauty lies in the simple moments shared between two souls who are destined to be together.

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x OC

Content Warning: None

Word Count: 2131

MasterList

Chapter One

On this serene Tuesday afternoon, I find myself confined within the cramped confines of our little shop. While my mother diligently dusts the shelves, I take the initiative to prop the front door ajar, inviting a much-needed breeze to alleviate the stuffiness. Inhaling deeply, I relish the crisp air and bask briefly in the warmth of the sun before reluctantly retreating back inside. Resuming my place behind the counter, I indulge in stealing moments to immerse myself in the pages of my book, grateful that Tuesdays typically grant me respite from constant activity. Lost in the midst of a chapter, the gentle chime of the doorbell interrupts my reverie, signaling the arrival of a visitor. Offering a polite greeting without lifting my eyes from the text, I inadvertently incur my mother's exasperated sigh and a playful tap on the head as she tends to the customer, eliciting a suppressed chuckle from them.

"Ah, hello there," my mother greeted warmly, her tone tinged with a hint of amusement. "Please pardon my daughter's absent-mindedness today. What brings you to our establishment on this delightful Tuesday afternoon?" I arched an eyebrow, sensing my mother's subtle attempt to nudge me into the present moment. Peering over the edge of my book, I was met with a sight that momentarily stole my breath. Standing before us was a man of striking beauty, as if carved by the hands of ancient gods and bestowed upon our mundane world as a divine offering. 

His laughter danced briefly, accompanied by a fleeting glance in my direction before refocusing on my mother. With hair cascading gracefully to the nape of his neck, he loomed over my mother with a commanding presence, dwarfing her petite stature of 5'3". Yet, even at my height of 5'7", I couldn't escape the sensation of being enveloped by his towering figure. His form was adorned with a canvas of intricate tattoos, boldly displayed by the black muscle tank that hugged his torso, revealing a tapestry of ink that adorned his neck, arms, and hands. Though his attire hinted at a concealed canvas beneath his black skinny jeans, I couldn't help but imagine that his legs bore a similar testament to his artistic expression.

As they engaged in their quiet conversation, I slowly pivoted in my chair, directing my gaze towards the wall to regain my composure, determined not to betray any hint of teenage infatuation. After a moment, satisfied that I appeared composed, I turned back around and placed my book on the counter. Their soft laughter reached my ears, prompting me to glance up and witness my mother guiding him by the arm towards me.

"Oh, Morrigan, this is Noah," my mother introduced with a hint of excitement in her voice, employing the sweet tone she often used when attempting to play matchmaker. "He's in town with his band. Isn't that wonderful?" Noah and I exchanged a brief smile, acknowledging the subtle matchmaking efforts of my mother.

"Yeah, mom, that's pretty cool," I responded, nodding in agreement. Then, meeting Noah's gaze, I continued, "During our tourist season, we tend to have a few small bands passing through. It's always nice to see fellow artists stopping by, whether it's to check out the scene or play a small show." His smile widened slightly, and he tilted his head in understanding.

"Really? That's neat. So, are you also in a band?" Noah inquired, his tone exuding a comforting warmth that caught me slightly off guard. Despite feeling a hint of fluster, I swiftly reigned in any unprofessional emotions, reminding myself of the setting and his status as a customer.

"Oh, no, I'm a photographer," I responded. "I love seeing people from different artistic backgrounds coming through our small town. Most of the artwork in this store is created by my family and me, along with a few pieces from other local artists who sell through us." Noah nodded thoughtfully, his gaze sweeping around the store.

"Wow, the way you guys have your mom-and-pop shop selling your art is unique. I find that highly inspiring," Noah remarked, his eyes sparkling with genuine admiration. He was ticking all the boxes, leaving me thoroughly impressed.

My mother, bursting with excitement, promptly took him on a tour of the store, guiding him around while sharing stories about the various artworks created by our family and local artists. When they reached the section showcasing my dad's paintings, I could see the awe in Noah's expression. It always warmed my heart to witness such genuine delight when people admired my father's talent.

As Noah browsed through the paintings, my mother shot me a mischievous look, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. I couldn't help but roll my eyes and chuckle at her antics; she was relentless in her matchmaking endeavors. I noticed her discreetly saying something to Noah as he glanced in the direction of my photographs. A nervous pang struck me as they began to make their way towards that section. Every time someone entered that part of the store, my heart would race. I took my photography seriously, always hoping that others would appreciate them as much as I did. Despite usually receiving positive feedback, self-doubt still lingered within me.

"Wow, these are beautiful," Noah exclaimed, holding up a couple of my photographs. I felt a surge of nervous energy coursing through me as my mother excused herself and made her way towards me.

"He's quite the cutie, huh?" my mother whispered, her words barely audible. All I could manage in response was a nod, eliciting a small chuckle from her. "Well, I told him I had some things to attend to in the other part of the store. If he needs anything, just direct him to you," she added, giving me a knowing look. I raised an eyebrow skeptically, fully aware that she had no pressing tasks awaiting her elsewhere. Another laugh escaped her lips before she sauntered off to the other section of the store, leaving me feeling slightly lightheaded. Attempting to steady myself, I began to focus on my breathing exercises when suddenly, a tall shadow loomed over me, interrupting my thoughts.

"You took these?" Noah asked, holding up two photographs. One depicted a Victorian-style portrait of a lady adorned in elegant attire with a pumpkin head, clearly inspired by the show "Over The Garden Wall." The other captured a dynamic action shot of crowd surfing, showcasing a sea of hands supporting the subject amidst the energetic atmosphere of a live concert. Sheepishly, I nodded, meeting his gaze. "You are very talented," he remarked, his smile widening in awe. "I would like to purchase these, please," he added, his soft tone mirroring his gentle smile.

"Y-yeah, of course," I stammered, feeling a flush of warmth spread across my cheeks. "That'll be $25," I added, my voice barely above a whisper. Noah reached into his wallet and withdrew two crisp twenty-dollar bills, handing them over with a smile that mirrored the appreciation in his eyes.

"Keep the change; give yourself more credit for your work," Noah insisted, his voice soft yet firm as he met my astonished gaze. I blinked in disbelief, overwhelmed by his unexpected generosity and the validation he offered for my artistic efforts.

"Are you sure? $40 seems like a lot for just two pictures taken by someone who isn't considered a professional," I hesitated, feeling a mix of gratitude and disbelief at his generosity. Noah simply smiled and nodded, his expression genuine and unwavering. It warmed my heart to receive such praise in such a sincere manner. The only other people who had ever expressed such belief in my talent were my parents, but their words carried the weight of unconditional love. Noah's encouragement felt different, coming from someone outside my family circle, making it all the more meaningful.

"Well, thank you so much, Noah; I truly appreciate your kindness," I murmured, feeling a rush of gratitude coursing through me as I avoided meeting his gaze. With meticulous care, I packed the photographs for him, ensuring they were safely secured in a bag. Finally, summoning a bit of courage, I dared to meet his eyes, offering a shy but genuine smile of appreciation.

"If I paid you, would you come to my show tonight and do action shots like that for me?" Noah's question hung in the air, catching me off guard. I stared at him for a moment, feeling a mix of surprise and confusion wash over me as I processed his request. The prospect of being hired to capture action shots at his show tonight seemed both thrilling and daunting, leaving me momentarily at a loss for words.

"Why would you want me to do that? Even small bands have their own photographer," I questioned, feeling a flutter of uncertainty mixed with excitement at the prospect. As my heart began to race, Noah chuckled softly, his expression hinting at amusement tinged with genuine interest. His response only added to my intrigue.

"We do, but I like your style and think it would be fun for both of us," Noah explained, a gleam of excitement dancing in his eyes. I couldn't help but notice a hint of amusement in his demeanor whenever I referred to his band as "small," which only added to the intriguing dynamic between us. His genuine interest in my photography style and the prospect of collaborating sparked a surge of excitement within me, overshadowing any lingering doubts.

"Is there something about your band you're not telling me?" I inquired, unable to suppress a curious smile as I met his gaze. Noah's smile broadened, his eyes sparkling with a playful glint that hinted at hidden secrets and untold stories waiting to be shared.

"Possibly," Noah replied cryptically, his tone teasing and enigmatic. I couldn't help but cross my arms and raise my eyebrows in response, silently urging him to divulge more about the intriguing mysteries surrounding his band.

"Am I going to get abducted tonight if I do go?" I quipped with a playful grin, trying to add to the light mood with a touch of humor. Noah chuckled in response, his laughter echoing in the air as he shot me a playful yet reassuring look.

"No, not at all. Trust me, I think it would be a good opportunity for everyone involved," Noah reassured me, his sincerity evident in his tone and expression. I couldn't help but chew my lip nervously as I pondered his proposition. It had been a while since I had been to a concert, and the idea of capturing action shots for his band stirred a mix of excitement and apprehension within me. Taking a deep breath, I made a conscious effort to push aside the anxiety and consider the potential benefits of seizing this opportunity.

"Alright, I'll go. But under one condition," I announced, meeting Noah's gaze with a sense of resolve. His eyebrow arched in curiosity, prompting me to unveil my condition.

"What is your condition?" Noah inquired, his interest piqued as he leaned in slightly, awaiting my response. Sensing his anticipation, I took a moment to gather my thoughts before speaking.

“My condition is that I get the full creative freedom to capture the essence of your band's performance," I replied, a hint of determination in my tone.“Also, instead of money, I would like my payment in the form of a drink and possibly food since I’ll be out.” He laughs and nods his head.

"Sounds like a plan. We'll be performing at the Center Theatre for the Performing Arts at eight tonight. You can show up at 7. I'll make sure they have your name so they'll let you in. Speaking of which, I've realized I haven't even asked for your name," Noah remarked, a hint of sheepishness coloring his tone. I smiled warmly at him, appreciating his openness and the friendly rapport we were building.

"My name is Morrigan Emerson," I stated with a slight nod, extending my hand toward him. Noah met my gesture with a gentle grasp, shaking my hand firmly yet with a touch of warmth that conveyed his sincerity.

"It's nice to meet you, Morrigan; my name is Noah Sebastian," he replied, his voice warm and his smile charming. "So, I'll see you at 7?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

"Yes, I'll see you at 7," I confirmed with a smile as Noah bid his goodbyes and made his way out the door. As soon as he was out of sight, I couldn't contain my excitement any longer. With a little skip in my step, I did a little dance of anticipation. Not only would I have the opportunity to capture some outstanding shots, but I would also get to spend time with a charming boy.

[seiwas]

"The chatter from the bakery is replaced by the city’s breaths—cars passing, dogs barking, footsteps on pavement rushing to get to their next destination. And you and Nanami stand by the entrance, neither knowing how to say bye

-

Now, he looks at you fondly, shifting his feet from where he’s standing. You search for his face, eyes darting to where you know you’ll find him; he meets your gaze, and you smile brighter, that one look ringing louder than the standing roars of an echoing applause."

You know what they say about finding love, and what is love is all about? That those ones that gives butterflies, makes your heart beats and races? They don't, always seem to last. But rather, love should exist in serenity even when you're in a bustling room.

It was only 7K in words, but I found myself in another world, in a dream I carved because of people like you that writes it down purely passionate. How befitting, an OC that carves art, and written by another writer that captures the beauty of love, and in the end, they all share the same sentiment in what makes art, art. You made us feel, and it's impossible to forget. Thank you, I hope you feel my heart.

oh what a lovely message, thank you so much nonie 🥺 i am so touched by this. thank you for taking the time to pen your favourite bits and for coming into my inbox to share how you feel about it 🥺

i do believe in love manifesting itself in different ways—love in the quiet being one of my favourites 🥺 i'm so glad you enjoyed this fic of mine, and that you were transported to another world while reading it!! i'd never written anything like this so was a bit nervous on how it would read.

i did really enjoy the concept though!! i was hoping that this work would kind of speak to those of us who create, and i'm happy you saw through that!! you are so sweet, thank you so much again for this heartfelt message!! 🥺

[lubdubsworld]

Madeira.  ( Taehyung x OC) Part 1/2

Genre : Angst, Sexually Explicit Content. 

Kim Taehyung x OC 

 Cop Au! 

Married Taehyung x Oc! ( Estranged ) 

Cop Taehyung! Bartender Oc ! 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N : This is my spin on the brother’s best friend trope. I wrote this for @ladyartemesia​ Who made the amazing banner for the fic..

Because of one of her posts :D :D But I hope all of you enjoy it. 

Also listen , i was supposed to write a simple brother’s best friend fic , maybe playful fluff and mild angst and some smut but  this thing snowballed into a plot monster and now here we are. 

This is part 1. 

Part 2 soon :) 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So... that husband of yours is still missing, huh?" The man leaning against the bar smelled like sewage. 

There really was no other word for it. 

He smelled like he’d been drenched in the water that usually ran down the streets, whenever the heavens opened and poured a fucking deluge on us. Like he’d taken a soak in the disgusting broth of decaying produce, discarded animal entrails and everyday garbage. You know, the kind of stuff you find in the market street of a small town.

I ignored him, exhaling sharply and dragging the rag across the counter again, this time with a little more force behind it to make up for the urge to wrap my hands around the fucker’s neck. 

Not the man leaning on the bar that is.  

The man who had abandoned me. 

Kim fucking Taehyung. 

My breath shuddered out of me ,  a headache blooming inside my skull at the very thought of him. it was kind of unwarranted, I guess because it really wasn’t perfect Kim Taehyung’s fault that his wife of five years and seven months hadn’t seen him in ...well, five years and six months. 

Fuck. 

But see he wasn’t missing from my life by design. 

He certainly hadn’t intended to leave me alone because , well for one, he loved me. and two, his best friend aka my big brother Park Jimin would skin him alive if he tried something like that. 

They were best friends, bosom buddies since kinder garten and the only time they’d ever fought was when Jimin had walked in on me choking on Kim Taehyung’s dick in our coat closet at the age of seventeen ( 19 in Taehyung’s case) . 

Taehyung had sported a black eye for two whole weeks. 

So you see, Taehyung wouldn’t just leave me without reason, not unless he wanted to be castrated by my brother. 

No. 

The reason Kim Taehyung wasn’t around was because he had taken up an assignment, an undercover assignment a month after our wedding. 

An assignment that was supposed to last two months. Except it hadn’t and now, it had been a whole five and a half years since I’d seen the man I loved. 

Kim fucking Taehyung. 

See, Taehyung was a detective. 

A brilliant, A- class detective in Seoul PD’s Narcotics Division and he had a reputation. 

 A reputation as one of the most ruthless, merciless men on the force. 

Taehyung had a mind that worked like no other, somehow able to predict exactly how drug dealers moved, how the shipments were going to be smuggled. He could tell where the deal was going to go down, what kind of security measures they would be up against and the most intriguing of all :  just what drug a person had taken, simply from staring into their damn eyes .

 It wasn’t uncommon for his cop buddies to comment how lucky the country was, that Kim Taehyung had chosen to be on this side of the law . 

So Kim Taehyung’s reputation as a brilliant detective was well earned and that was why,  when people heard his reputation and  then  met him, they were always stunned. 

Because, for someone with such a terrifying aura , Taehyung looked deceptively.....well ethereal was the word. Beautiful was another. So fucking gorgeous  he could make angels cry. 

But Taehyung didn’t just look like a fucking angel. He acted like one. He acted like he had been sent on earth, simply to fight every bad guy in the city and while I had been proud and amazed and suitably enthralled with his prowess in the beginning, the fact that he had chosen to just leave me , really fucking hurt. 

It hurt that the boy i had grown up with , the boy who had been my first everything hadn’t thought twice about leaving me behind. About leaving everything we had spent a whole decade building , behind just because he couldn’t control the urge to save the fucking world.

Every damn time.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The water in my parents’ home was often murky and I had to let it run for a few minutes, before sticking the bucket underneath the tap. I watched the water turn clearer, cupping my palms underneath the flow watching it run clear. I nudged the bucket with my foot , under the tap and the sound of the water hitting the cheap plastic filled the cramped bathroom, loud and jarring. 

I leaned against the chipped blue tiles, fingers shaking as I clenched them into fists. I had moved year about nine months after Taehyung had left, when it became clear that he wasn’t going to be coming back anytime soon and it became hard, paying the rent for our modest apartment in Itaewon. 

Jimin had offered to help, offered to let me move in with him and his wife Irene,  but he had been newly married as well, with a baby on the way. And i just couldn’t do that to him. I’d called my parents, explained that Taehyung and I were taking a break and could I move in for a while?

My parents had been stunned. 

A break after ten months of marriage? what had happened? 

I’d kept my mouth shut because everything was a security risk. I couldn’t say anything. Couldn’t cry or complain or seek comfort in my mother’s gentle words. Instead i’d spent the days, locked up in my childhood bedroom, pouring over my journals, my keepsakes and photos, reliving the years I’d spent, loving and learning and cherishing Taehyung. 

First kiss in his garage at the age of fifteen  , laughing over a failed skateboard trick. How he’d grinned at me, watching me whine over the scrape on my knee, how he’d stared up at me through the sweat damp bangs on his forehead as he’d knelt on the floor, sticking a bandaid over the scrape and then instead of moving away as usual, he mad moved  in,  brushed his lips against mine, stole the breath out of my lung , the soul out of my body . 

And Those first two years of denial....when he would practically run out of the door if i so much as breathed in his direction. 

“You’re Jimin’s sister.. I can’t...” 

God often he’d said that...over and over again until the words lost all meaning for me. I had wanted him so blindly. Had fought any girl who so much as looked at him and every one of my girlfriends  knew to stay clear off Kim Taehyung. 

The whispers, anytime someone showed an interest on the most handsome boy in school. 

Yes, he is gorgeous, yes he is smart and amazing but he belongs to  her.  She’ll kill you if you come near him. 

I’d enjoyed it. I enjoyed knowing that everyone could see that he belonged with me, even if Taehyung himself didn’t . 

And me at seventeen, watching him talk about leaving .... How he was going to join the police academy and become a cop and that had been the final straw. I’d all but barrelled into his home and kissed him. 

Told him in no uncertain terms that he was not going anywhere without telling me he loved me. And if he didn’t , I wanted him to swear he would never regret it. That when , years from now, he saw me walking down the aisle with some other guy, he would stand in the wedding party, next to my actual brother and not regret that he let me go. 

Taehyung had kissed me back with fervor that still made my lips tingle. 

And that last week before he left, when we had spent all our waking hours, either having sex or thinking about having sex. How we’d christened every surface of our parents’  house , our rooms and finally the coat closet after one particularly tense game of truth and dare. 

That was a memorable one because my brother had walked in, just as Taehyung had gripped my hair hard enough to bruise and shoved his ‘ big by any standards’ dick straight down my throat. 

Talk about embarrassing. 

And it had taken a whole lot of begging and cajoling and promises to not have sex till we were married, for my brother to come around.

But he had. 

And for five glorious years, I had been Kim Taehyung’s girlfriend. Watched him climb the ranks at seoul PD with a speed that was amazing. Watching him become the youngest detective on the force... watched him carve a reputation for himself in the Narcotic department.

And one evening, having dinner in a posh restaurant with our family and friends, I had watched him get down on his knees , a small velvet box in his hand  eyes practically sparkling with love as he stared at me. 

“The only one you’re walking down the aisle with is me, sweetheart.” He had rasped, over the raucous cheering of all the most important people in our lives. 

But the joy had been short lived. 

Just a month after our wedding Taehyung had taken up the assignment. Just two months, he had promised. I’ll be back in two months baby. I love you so damn much, you know that....

I had said it was okay. it wasn’t but i had said. Had promised to wait for him. To keep myself safe. 

Two months had turned to two years. Two years had turned to three. Three to four and four to five. 

Lonely. I was so lonely. 

Even living with my parents, the solitude had been unbearable. The ache from not being touched by him . The ache from not being able to touch him. From not having that boxy smile to greet me in the morning. Not running my fingers through his hair as he left hickeys all over me. Not having him over me, staring down at me,  eyes heavy and hard as he fucked into me.

I missed him so fiercely it was a physical ache. An intense , hollow ache filled with anxiety and longing. 

And terror.

Oh god I was so terrified. 

The fear was all encompassing somedays and I had to bite down on my pillows just to stop myself from giving in to hysteria. To start sobbing, uncontrollably because the thought would come out of nowhere, bowling me over in it’s intensity. 

The burning fear that perhaps he was hurt. 

That perhaps he was no longer of this world and i would never even know. That perhaps right this moment he was lying in some abandoned warehouse, bleeding out , thinking of me, wishing he could see me and he was just going to die alone . And I would never know. 

I spoke to Jimin on the phone to Jimin every weekend. But sometimes, once every three or four weeks, Jimin called in the day. 

We would exchange small talk. 

And then he would say, 

“Had a glass of madeira last night.”  “ spoke to Taehyung’s handler last night. 

I would grip the phone hard, brace myself for the good , the bad or the ugly that was to come. 

“Tasted great. Was thinking of you.”  He’s fine. He misses you. He loves you. 

“Okay. Thank you Jimin.” 

And that was that. 

The sound of the water spilling over drew me to the present and i blinked, staring down at the water flooding the bathroom, the drainhole struggling to get rid of the excess water. 

The house was deserted. 

My parents had died a year ago. And now it was just me. 

I swallowed , shaking my head before grabbing the hem of my dress and stripping. 

Shower.

And then bed. 

Alone. 

Always so fucking alone. 

The phone rang then and i groaned. 

God, I hated having to leave the shower to attend calls but the reception here was terrible and I could only get calls if I left the phone on the small table by the bed. 

Grabbing a towel and wrapping it around my torso, I stumbled out into the dimply lit bedroom, reaching for my phone. 

I couldn’t recognize the number and I frowned, before accepting the call.

“Hello?”

“Yerin?” 

Every hair on my body stood on end and my body curned hot and then went icy cold really really fast. 

“T-T-Tae??” I whispered, gripping the phone so hard my fingers went number. 

Five years later and his voice was so different. Deep and raspy and exhausted and I couldn’t make sense of it. Was this real? Was i having a fever dream? Had i fell in the shower and hit my head? 

“Hey baby.” He chuckled. 

“Is this real? Is it you?” I whispered, confused and my head spinning and my vision fading a little. 

“Yeah. “ He coughed a bit and i panicked. “ I’m back. “

I froze. 

“Wh-What?”

“I’m back. I’m home. I’m .... I’m back.” 

I stared at the wall, too stunned to process what I was hearing. 

I could hear his voice through the phone but I couldn’t respond. 

Staring at the screen , I hung up. 

And then, I finally gave in to the hysterics. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[awkwardkindatries]

Hello dear! Could I please get a Matchup for Lord of the Rings and The Hobbit? I LOVE your blog theme btw, your icon and header are so pretty! Here's my description:

🪴 Autistic girl with an excitable but soft personality. I use She/Her pronouns and am legally an adult

🪴 I'm often in some sort of caretaker or comforter role, so I've developed a habit of calling people "honey". I've called my own parents that by accident lol

🪴 I give really good advice, but can be pretty stubborn myself. I've been called wise beyond my years a lot, haha. But, I can forget to care for myself too

🪴 My love language is very much physical touch, but not in a grand pda way. Rubbing someone's back, holding hands and hugs are much more comfortable for me

🪴 I love taking care of people but I can have a bit of a temper. I never even yell, but I do get very huffy and sassy 

🪴 Really short, only like 4' 11", with long brown hair and glasses. I usually put my hair up in a bun. To give you an idea of my fashion sense, I'm currently wearing a lavender flannel and overalls. I usually wear like 4 different layers of clothes every day lmao 

🪴 I work at a greenhouse and can't stand being away from nature for too long. I need outside time every day

🪴 I have a lot of knowledge about almost everything, to the point where even I don't know how I know so much

🪴 I know a fair amount of German, it's one of my favorite languages. I'm a big linguistics nerd

🪴 I prefer small gestures of love, since big actions and personalities embarrass me 

🪴 I'm very easily moved by things I find beautiful. I've almost cried watching a whole crowd sing the Pokemon theme song somehow 

🪴 I mainly write and draw, but I'm also really into carving things from wood to shells to stones

🪴 The purpose of my writing and life is to provide comfort. I just want to make people feel good. The world is cruel, so I won't be. 

🪴 I'm also a witch, I work with both Apollo and Cernunnos. Fun fact, the first spell I ever did was a healing spell for a hospitalized friend! 

🪴 I LOVE food!! I'm a firm believer that I truly good meal is all you need sometimes. I love baking

Sorry if that's way too long, as you can probably tell I also like talking, haha! Thanks so much hun, I hope you're doing well! Best wishes! ♥️

Hey there, of course you can! Also, thankyou! my Icon was a commission that I paid an artist to do of my LOTR OC (If you're interested in the artist ill definitely link her), as for my theme i wanted to put out a warmer vibe so i'm glad it's working.

Now onto your Match-up!

I just have this overwhelming feeling that you'd be perfect for Meludir. You're so soft and kind and motherly that he naturally gravitates to your energy and what a coincidence, his love language is also physical touch! He's a very touchy feely ellon and loves to be touching you in some way whether it's his finger holding onto your overall strap while you walk, braiding your hair, giving you hugs, ect. He'd love to take you on long walks to all of the special places that he's explored near his home, in part to give you inspiration but also just to hold your hand a smidge longer.

He would love that you draw and write but i think his biggest amount of appreciation would come from your wood carvings. There is so much wood around him in his home lands that he would love to spend time doing that practicing together. Bonus points if you exchange carvings from your homes, he'd treasure it always.

[leonameowzz]

Happy Birthday OC!MC 🎉🎊🎂🎁

Since it’s my birthday, I had to do a HC of what the TW boys would give my OC as a birthday present & how they feel about them. FYI, some parts are more specific towards my OC as I wanted this to be more personalized to myself. This is gonna be a long one but please enjoy~

Crowley held a dorm leader meeting to discuss how to handle her birthday, even Malleus was present for once without having to be reminded.

The dorm leaders were surprisingly eager to participate: Riddle wanted a birthday party at Heartslabyul, Kalim wanted an entire parade at Scarabia and Azul was actually willing to close Mostro Lounge temporarily.

In the end, Crowley opted to have the celebration at Ramshackle Dorm so as not to pick favourites.

On the faithful day, the first-year squad was tasked with distracting her while their seniors would decorate the venue, even the Ramshackle ghosts chipped in to help.

Riddle gives her a bouquet of roses, freshly grown from the bushes in the dorm. He thanks them for always looking after his dorm members (aka the chaotic duo). He even allows them the first strike during the next croquet match.

Ace puts on a magic show during the party, he even learnt some new card tricks just for her! He even bought an extra card deck for them so they could practice together.

Deuce shyly hands her a plush chicken keychain since the whole chicken fiasco was a fond memory for him. He finds them to be a good influence on him if he is to be a future honor student.  

Trey baked her favourite strawberry shortcake as well as the other desserts at their party. He also thanked them for taking care of his juniors but he’s grateful they were friends with Riddle too.

Cater takes lots and lots and lots of selfies with her, captioned #ramshackledormparty. He also slips her a rose gold liquid glitter smartphone cover as a gift. Don’t worry, it’s the latest, trendiest design to make up for that shopping date he promised.

Leona nonchalantly passes her a jewelry box which they open to reveal a fanged necklace similar to the one he wears. He pats their head, wishing them happy birthday before leaving to nap somewhere quiet.

Ruggie was not able to afford anything too fancy, but he did share some of his favourite donuts with her. He was glad that he could depend on them when handling Leona’s demands.

Jack gives her a mini cactus/succulent garden he grew and arranged himself since he knew they loved tending to the plants in the greenhouse. “It’s not like I made this specially for you! I just had some spare plants leftover and didn’t want them to go to waste!” He would quickly reason.

Azul offers her a deal a discount at Mostro Lounge. What, that’s it? Just kidding, he hands them several test notebooks to help with studies, though he instructs them not to share with anyone else. Only her gets them free-of-charge~

Floyd had planned to squeeze his Shrimpy as a birthday gift but was stopped by Azul & Jade. In the end, he managed to find an extremely rare rainbow seashell while exploring Coral Sea, so that’s what he’s giving her. Azul probably wanted to sell that for 💰💰 but too late now.

Jade presented her with some mushrooms & herbs he gathered during his daily mountain trek as well as some recipes to cook them. Floyd gives a disgusted look behind his back though his brother chooses to ignore it. 

Kalim knows where to obtain all sorts of animals for his parades and actually procures a light brown eagle owl for her. He knew how much they adored said animal so here they go! Wait... Kalim, you can’t just give someone an actual pet so suddenly?!?!

Jamil got her a pair of sport shoes since they both love dancing. They’re the same brand he uses so they’re super comfortable. The two of them may have started off on the wrong foot, but turns out they share many interests. Plus, he’s glad she’s there to help him with Kalim’s antics.

Vil straight up hands her an entire box of cosmetics from his skincare line (it’s even in limited edition packaging), stating how important it is for his little potato to maintain healthy skin especially since they live in less-than-desirable conditions at Ramshackle.  

Rook gifts her a bird whistle. Since her new pet owl is a bird of prey perhaps she could train it to hunt small critters? It would also be yet another thing of beauty for him to take pictures of.

Epel created an entire apple carving centerpiece for the dining table, even Vil was impressed. There were all sorts of shapes, ranging from swans to butterflies, it was definitely Magicam worthy.

Idia made a custom game controller with her initials engraved on them. She regularly joins them for gaming nights during the weekend after all. He had not intended to come to the birthday party but Ortho basically forced him to attend for his sake.  

The young robot had also grown close to her and the other first years. He was very grateful to her for taking the initiative to befriend Idia despite his reclusive nature.

Malleus was glad to be included in something for once. He had a soft spot for this particular Child of Man who had approached him so bravely and eventually befriended him. His gift to her is a gargoyle paperweight, it’s functional and makes a great table decoration.

Lilia had planned to cook for the party but Silver immediately suggested giving MC a musical instrument instead since both of them were in the light music club. After rummaging around his room, Lilia settled on giving her an ocarina, which reminded him of a certain game protagonist clad in green clothes.  

Silver enjoyed fencing and he had practiced with her several times to know she was capable of wielding a weapon, thus he presented her with a silver small sword. Besides, having the extra bit of protection in school wouldn’t hurt.

Sebek handed her a book shouting “NINGEN, YOU’RE OK I GUESS, SO TAKE THIS!” It was an extra copy of one of his favourite books about a powerful swordsman who bravely protected his master while travelling alongside him.

*Bonus*

Grim’s present is a striped hair bow that matches his collar. “The great Grim-sama is capable of showing gratitude even if I’m a monster”, he proudly declares.

Also Ace decided to throw a pie at her face which escalated into the other first years joining in, followed by Floyd, Lilia and Kalim. 

Jade, Jamil and Silver attempted to stop them, Cater was filming the entire thing while Ruggie used the distraction to horde as much food as possible.

At the end of the day, the troublemakers were punished by having to clean up after the party.

[dizzydancingdreamer]

The Servant and The Prince | Three

Part Three lovelies; do enjoy! I quite liked writing this part.

Description: This is very much a Cinderella trope because I cannot help myself and I am in love with Loki, chapter three

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader, third person as I may adapt eventually with an OC

Warnings: Intimacy but not graphic, anger (is that a warning? I feel like it shouldn’t have to be said when it is a Loki fic, the man is canonically angry)

Tags: Fluff, not really angst but suspense

Word count: 4.4k

Disclaimer: I do not speak old Norse Lmfaoo this is purely the basics that I gathered and it 110% is grammatically incorrect so do not come at me for that I am admitting it

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Master List

“Please Surtr.”

Her voice rings through his ears on a loop, the most beautiful and agonizing melody that he has surely ever heard. She must be magic— something strong and powerful and like nothing he has ever seen before. There is no other explanation. It had been magic when she appeared to him, literally falling into his lap as if out of thin air. He is the god of tricks but even he cannot do that— he cannot make women that smell like flower petals land in his arms at will. He wishes he could— more than anything he wishes he could pluck her out of his dreams and bring her back to him. But he cannot because that was not a trick. That was something else entirely.

One moment he had been alone, mulling over his mother’s words from a few days prior. I think you might have a soulmate, my dear. He had been thinking about the information he had been scouring the castle’s libraries for about such a thing— information he was begging Frigga to tell him. Of course, in true Frigga nature she would not tell him. His mother is the most stubborn woman in the realm. Wonderful but stubborn. Only he could have an all-knowing mother who refused to share any of that knowledge. She told him it was dangerous to know the future— that it must happen as it will. What nonsense. How is he supposed to find her if he knows nothing about her?

The books were of little use to him as well. The information in them was outdated and flimsy at best. They consisted mainly of a couple second person accounts and scroll that he could translate if he was given a few days. Unfortunately time is of the essence and he does not have a few days. He barely has one day. One day to find his person or to give her up. And he thought he was the cruellest god. Apparently not. Anyway, that was where he was when she fell into his lap- mulling over a page of runes that looked more like gibberish than anything he had ever seen.

One moment he had been sitting at his desk, pretending like the sunshine on his hand was a product of any sky other than Asgard’s. The next moment he was being straddled by a misty figure that smelled like an afternoon in the castle gardens. He could not see a single detail about her— not her hair or her eyes or anything else— but he could feel her. She was warm and soft, her thighs heavenly around him. She was his own, little slice of Valhalla— a perfect fit. Frigga was right; all it took was a few seconds in her presence and he knew. She was his soulmate.

A soulmate who seemed like she was out to make him crazy for her, no less. Sure he could not see her but it was not hard to tell that her thighs around him were bare, squeezing him against her smooth skin with reckless abandon. It would have taken significantly less for him to go mad for her— honestly it would have taken nothing at all— but, Odin, if that was what she was going for then she definitely succeeded. He can still feel her warmth pressed against him, the way she had sunken down onto him immediately. She knew too. How much she knew he cannot say but she had to have known something- felt something— by the way she melted perfectly into him. She was his from the moment she appeared and she seemed to know it— embrace it. She acted like he was hers too and it was by far the sexiest thing he had ever experienced in all of his thousand years. That is surely saying something.

Obviously he did not just simply give in to her flowery aroma and Valhalla thighs- he had tried to speak to her. Many times actually. She just could not hear him. Of course it took him many times to realize that. He probably asked for her name and where she came from about a hundred times before she finally rocked her hips against his and tapped her lips with two wispy fingers. Be quiet you idiot, I cannot hear you. That is what he imagined she had said. It is what he would have said to himself if he were in her position.

He was floored, to say the least. He has never been floored before- not like that at least. Not in a good way. He stopped wondering where she came from after that. It no longer mattered from where on Asgard she had appeared, only how to ensure that she did not leave him again. He had been looking for her- scouring useless books and a stubborn mother- and then there she was, right before him, and he was determined to hold onto her.

Still, he had not leaned immediately into her touch. She had not made it easy on him, her gentle fingers reaching up to cup his face, scratching through the days worth of hair on his jaw. That was impossible to resist, he simply had to press his lips against her palm. The rest, though, made him go still, evaluating the situation. He had no clue what she actually wanted- how much she actually understood. He had grabbed her hips in reflex- a defense mechanism- she had appeared out of literal thin air after all. He had gone to move his hand almost immediately after grabbing her- well, once the shock had worn off. She was quite warm, though. Distractingly so. It takes a few seconds to push through that kind of daze. That was where things got interesting.

She had begun sliding off him. Maybe she had been in that same sweet daze too because, from what little of her he could see through the misty white haze, she appeared to be lost in her own little world. Her bottom lip was pushed out- colourless but plump- her soft body slowly shifting. There is no way she had noticed; she had made no move to catch herself.

So he did.

He is not really in the game of letting women fall into heaps on his bedroom floor, let alone one that makes his heart beat the way that she does. It was a simple action- all he did was anchor his arm more steadily around her body- but in doing so he unleashed a chain of reactions that, even now, he cannot fully comprehend. It is honestly quite mind boggling how everything played out. If Frigga had woken him up that morning and told him that his soulmate would jump into his lap later that day and then proceed to tease him for an entire hour, he would have laughed. No, he would have rolled over and gone back to sleep. The point is he would not have believed her. Frigga, his oracle mother. Maybe that is why she did not tell him.

So there she was, falling, and there he was, catching her, and somewhere in that small chain reaction he had pulled her higher onto his lap- again, to keep her from falling off him completely- and that is when her eyes flashed the brightest silver he has ever seen. It was only for a few seconds but it was there; he saw it! It had made him freeze. Not many things make him freeze. He is a god. But there he was, frozen on that stupid wooden chair with what he can only assume was the most idiotic expression any man has ever held. It had to be magic- there is no other explanation for the way his ability to breathe completely vanished. It was like her eyes mattered more than air itself.

Meanwhile she was moving her hips again and then her hands were digging into his shoulders. It was blissful- no that is not strong enough. Trekking through the woods alone is blissful; she was something else entirely. Of course he was still frozen- a damn statue- as his little soulmate squeezed those Valhalla thighs around him harder and sunk down onto him- right in that exact spot that made him wonder for a second if she was sent to him as a test of willpower.

But no, there is no way that was the case; not with the way her silver eyes sparked again and rolled back into her head like it was the first time she had ever felt something like that. Not with the way her misty lips had parted, some of the luscious color finally peeking through, releasing a sound that he would have gladly fought every other god in the realm to be able to hear. He could not help but reach out in that moment and touch her face. He had to make sure she was real. Yes, she was on his lap but that was not enough. He had to know for sure. As soon as his fingers had met her soft skin it was game over. She was real and she was there.

His hand hooked around the back of her neck easily, as though her head was meant to be held by him- the same way her thighs engulfed him perfectly. He nudged her gently- for a moment she had gone still. Asleep maybe. He wanted to see her eyes again though. He had not been disappointed when her eyelids opened to reveal a lightning storm of molten silver swirling in her irises. Forget Valhalla thighs; every part of her was carved from the stuff of the heavens. Still he glanced down to look at them, his eyes dancing over where her misty dress had ridden up to reveal two perfectly smooth legs. Magic, he had thought to himself again. Definitely magic.

He needed more.

He had to make her eyes spark even more. He had pulled her higher- closer- his hand squeezing her hip, pushing her into him harder. It worked. But not only did it work, it made something more happen. It made her speak. It made him hear her. Sort of. Not fully, her voice was muffled- like she was trapped under the surf- but he could hear some of it. The little sighs and whines. He could hear them and now that he could hear them he never wanted them to stop hearing them. It seemed like she felt the same way, her hands shooting out and dragging his face towards her, her muffled voice now frantic. There are very few things that he would have not done in that moment to understand what she was saying. Thankfully he had not had to do any of them. She had not given him the chance to do any of them.

He will hand it to his soulmate, she is a strong little thing. To be fair he had not been expecting for her to literally yank him closer to her, fisting his shoulders like she was on a whole different kind of mission than the one he was starting to believe she was on. For a moment there he thought he was going to stop breathing for a completely different reason. A deadly reason. But no, she was not trying to kill him. That is not to say that his heart did not stop- it most certainly had. How could it not? Her dress was fully around her hips now. That would make even the strongest man crumble. He would like to think that he is the strongest man but, honestly, in that moment he had to rethink that stance. He was not strong there.

Apparently he had froze again because the next thing he knew she was throwing herself at him harder, her flower scented body wrapping around him completely as she sank against his neck. She was not letting up- his heart was going to fail, he had been sure of it. He was going to die and she was going to disappear and whoever found him would be left to wonder what in Asgard happened in order to make the trickster god die with a shit eating grin on his face. How fucking ironic.

To think she had not even started torturing him yet and he was already imagining his demise. Looking back on it now he could laugh. In fact he does, a small chuckle breaching his daydream. If only he had known that soon she would press her velvet lips against his neck and steal the last drop of his composure. Maybe he would have been able to intercept it- to press his own lips against hers and feel that lighting sparking through her veins. If only foresight was as sharp as hindsight. What a terribly cruel thing it is to be able to know what he should have done only after it has happened.

Before he can fall deeper into the memory- that blithe experience of pressing her soft body into the very desk he sits at now- there is a knock on his door.

“Loki?” He is not even the slightest bit surprised to hear Frigga’s voice filtering in from the other side of the heavy wooden door.

He does not bother standing. “Come in, mother.”

His room fills with the squeaking of the door on it’s hinges and the soft sound of her heels click, click, clicking against the stone floor. He turns slightly over his shoulder, peering at the tall woman as she glides towards him. If he were not able to hear her shoes he would swear that she is floating, not actually touching the floor. She is much too graceful for her own good, especially given the clunky man she is married to. They definitely balance each other out, that is for sure.

Loki nods at her when she stops a few feet away from him. She glances around his room, her lips pressing together. He does not really know why- it is immaculate as always. Empty. Maybe that is the point, though. Maybe she wishes it was not. He wishes that at least. She continues to stare for a few more moments, her face shielded. It is unnerving, to say the least. He goes to offer her a greeting- to add some sound to the emptiness- but she beats him to it.

“You saw her.” She is still looking at his emerald bed.

His eyes widen. He blinks a few times to hide it but his mother never turns to look at him. Now she stares out the window, lifting one of her small hands to wave in and out of the light that filters through. He cannot look at the light for too long without his mind wandering dangerously. A wandering mind is never usually dangerous but around Frigga it is the most dangerous thing a person can have. He refuses to give his mother even more access to his mind than she already has.

He sinks back against the chair, schooling his features into a cool grin when she finally turns to look at him. “Saw who?”

Frigga rolls her crystal eyes at him, scoffing. “Do not play coy with me son. Now is not the time for games.”

His grin drops. Yeah, that is pretty much exactly what he is expecting her to say. Still he had to try. One of these days he will be able to bar his nosy mother from his thoughts. Not today, but one day.

“Yes, I saw her.” He grinds out. Sometimes speaking to her feels like when he was a boy having his baby teeth pulled out- irritating.

“Do go on. I somehow doubt that is where the story ends.” She leans her back against the wall near his window, her slender arms crossing over her chest, brushing against her flowing blonde hair.

He has to look away again, standing and turning to gaze anywhere but in that general area. There is too much electricity still- too much of her. He does not know what to say about her. He is not about to share the gory details with his mother. He refuses. If she wants to know that badly then she can close her eyes and conjure the image herself, she is more than capable of such a simple spell. For her it would be as easy as breathing.

“She just appeared,” he shrugs. It is the truth, after all. “Out of thin air. One moment nothing and the next moment-” he spins back to his mother, mimicking a small explosion with his fingers- “poof. A soulmate.”

Frigga raises a golden brow, her lips caught somewhere between a smile and a frown. “Poof?”

“A soulmate.” Loki finishes for her, shrugging again.

He does not understand it either. It is almost comical- two of the most powerful beings in the realm positively stumped over a disappearing act. This is child's play after all! Surely one of those books he had been scouring earlier would know something about this. If only he had known what to look for at the time. Vanishing soulmates. Invisible girl. Lightning eyes. Again, hindsight is a jest.

“Well,” Frigga muses, lines appearing on her otherwise flawless forehead as she paces a few steps, her heels click-clicking again. “What did she look like?”

This time he laughs. Now it is comical. “I have not the faintest clue.”

She freezes in her pacing, now half-way across his room, “what do you mean you have not a clue? Surely you must have seen her.”

He shakes his head again, his laughter a little more desperate this time. Suddenly it is not so funny anymore. It never was. He knows that. Better than anyone. He can feel everywhere her body is not touching his and it is a kind of agony that he had not known existed prior to this. He has been in battles before- had pieces of him sliced off and sewn back on- but this is different. You cannot stitch an invisible wound. There is no blood proof, no sign of injury, not even a limp. Just a man who feels like his insides are being ripped out of his body- like his damn organs are trying to find their way back to her; with or without him. He almost breaks down and pleads with them. Take me with you.

“Loki?” Frigga’s hand against his face breaks him from his daze. She is always saving him; it is infuriating.

His voice is just a whisper when finally answers. “No, mother. She was just mist. I could touch her but I could not see her. Well, not her appearance. I could see the mist.”

His mother’s hand on his cheek stills. “Can you explain the mist?”

His back straightens, the corners of his mouth turning down in a sneer he cannot force away. Usually he would never be so cruel with Frigga, no matter how badly he would like to. It makes him feel guilty- ashamed. He never wants to hurt her. Right now, though, he cannot keep the ice out of his voice. It is in his nature after all.

“It was mist. I really do not know what you want me to say. White mist. Clouds maybe. Is there anything else you would like to know, mother?” He squeezes his fist together, concealing where the tips of his fingers begin to frost over.

It is pointless- she would not have noticed anyway. She had drawn away from as soon as he started describing his invisible soulmate. Now Frigga’s face is stoney- her eyes glazed over. She is no longer in his room. He does not know where she is but he has seen this happen before. Not often enough to keep his heart from skipping a beat. His mother is fine but somewhere inside him that scared little boy debates tugging on her sleeve just to make sure.

“Hylli mær.” He flinches back when she speaks.

Her voice does not sound like his mother’s usual gentle tread. It is deeper- stronger- and echoes against the stone walls. Loyal maiden. Frigga never uses the old tongue anymore. She used to, when he was little. It was how he learned the language of the gods. She would sing him lullabies about kings and monsters, all in a language he could not decipher. For what seemed like the longest time he could not understand the stories. Then one day he could. It was as simple as that- as simple as a children's song. This is different though- she is not singing to him anymore.

Loki takes a careful step back towards his mother, noting how her eyes do not follow his movements. “Mother, what are you-”

Frigga’s eyes snap to him and he goes rigid, his words halting. Her gaze still does not reach him but the haunting stare on his mother’s face could very well fool most people. Not her son, but most people. It is still unsettling, the hair on the back of his neck raising. That might be from the way the ends of her golden hair begin to float up around her face though. Her pink lips keep moving but no words form. Loki takes one of her hands, tensing when her molten skin touches his freezing fingers. His touch makes her speak again.

“Silfr auga, ríkr mær.” Silver eyed, powerful maiden.

Her voice is louder this time, no doubt seeping into the hallway. Her hair now floats around the crown of her head and the flowing sleeves of her gown begin to rise as well. He cannot be sure what his mother is seeing but whatever it is does not seem like a walk in the gardens. Her skin grows hotter by the second until finally he has to drop her hand to keep from burning his own flesh. He glances down at his hands, noticing the azure shade rising to meet the new temperature and blanching. No.

“Stǫðva!” He barks, grasping his mother’s slender shoulders, recoiling at the sharp edge in his voice. He has to do it, he reminds himself.

Thankfully that is all it takes to snap her out of her vision. Frigga blinks rapidly, her golden hair dropping against her chest, her crystal eyes darting around his room before focussing in on him again. It takes a moment for her sleeves to drop as well but when they do he decides it is okay to let go of her.

“Loki?” She lifts a hand to her eye, rubbing a circle under her brow. “What happened?”

What? He cocks his head, his mouth opening. He presses it closed quickly. Once again he has no idea what to say. Does she not remember? He lifts his eyes to the window, trying to form a sentence that will make even a little bit of sense. He is starting to get really tired of not knowing what to say. Some silver tongue he is.

“Mother-” he keeps his voice gentle, a stark contrast to the last few moments- “you were having a vision. You spoke in the tongue of the gods. Can you remember anything you saw?”

There is silence in his room for a long moment as he watches Frigga’s finger stop, her lips pursing. In that moment he wishes many things. He wishes he could hear the click-clicking of her heels, if only to fill the quiet. He wishes he were back in the library, scouring for anything that might give him even the faintest clue as to what in Niflheim is happening to him. Most of all though he wishes he was curled up once more with the soft girl- his soft girl- her face pressed against his neck and his hands locked around her back. He does not even have to see her- he will take anything at this point. Anything for just a second of peace. He cannot recall ever having felt this damn tired before.

Frigga’s hands slam against his shoulders, her bright eyes wide. Her fingers tremble against his leather armor. “I remember-” she gasps and he tries to ignore the way her hair begins to rise again- “I remember! She is here!”

“What?” He chokes, his hands rushing out to grab his mother’s before she can pull away.

Something inside him snaps, his vision laser focusing on the woman in front of him. He is not giving her the chance to scamper away this time- she will tell him everything she knows. Now. He does not care that she is his mother. She said it herself; this is not a game anymore.

It never was.

“Tell me what you saw.” There is not even a hint of question in his voice.

“I did not see her, per say.” She responds, her brows narrowing, her eyes taking on that far away look again. It makes his shoulders soften- she is cooperating. “I saw the mist you spoke of though. I felt her. My son, she is strong. I do not know how I missed her presence when she entered the city. Her power is disguised I think- unlike anything I have felt. I do not even know if she knows it. She was following behind two people and in her arms were many bags. They have come for the festival. I could not see them either but they were passing the castle gates just moments ago. They are here-”

Loki hangs on to every word that flows from her mouth, picking the important details from her rambling. The more he hears the more his shoulders tighten again until finally his spine is as straight as a pin, his veins flowing with just barely veiled power. His fingertips are so cold now that he can no longer feel them.

Strong.

Power.

Disguised.

Castle.

Here.

As soon as that word slips from her tongue he is moving, spinning on his heel and all but sprinting out of his bedroom. He has no idea the direction to go or where to even begin looking for her. The castle alone is almost as big as the city. His mother had said she entered the castle though so that means through one of the gates. A picture of the large golden gates- the main gates- appears in his mind. That makes the most sense, the most people will be entering there. Before he knows it he is sprinting, his boots pounding against the stone as he pushes himself as fast as he can go. He will find her today, even if it is the last thing he does.

It very well might be too, because the raven haired god rushes out of his room before his mother can finish the last of her sentence- “and she is in great danger.”

[sarahjkl82-blog]

Artistic Instinct: Chapter 3

Header thanks to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty​ 

Summary: Marcus Pike and OC Anushka Pierce have been selected to work on a 5 eyes (Australia, Canada, NZ, the UK and US) intelligence team to track down art forgeries as a part of taking down an international white terrorism cell. Marcus is trying to escape his broken heart, Anushka is just trying to escape what the world expects of her.

Word count: 3,200

Warnings: Language.

Pairing: Marcus Pike x reader (OC)

This comes with a MASSIVE THANK YOU to the lovely @yespolkadotkitty , who read, re-read, pointed out the constant flipping between tenses and gave me the confidence to try to write something!This is the first thing I have written since angsty poetry as a teenager. Apologies if it is shit! If an artist falls in love with you, you will live forever.

Genereux Philip

Chapter 3

Two years earlier

After a year’s secondment to Interpol at Stephen’s request, you and Jasper Kelly had settled into life in Lyon. Whereas in London, you’d had to hide your relationship, here you were freer to live together and not need to keep up appearances. You had just taken the ancient funicular railway up the steeply sloping hill with Jasper, having enjoyed a glass or two of kir royale from one of the many cafés of Vieux Lyon, the warmth from the alcohol heating your belly and the bite of the blackcurrant still sweet on your lips. Your fingers interlaced with his, without having to care that you might be seen as he stroked lazy circles on the back of your hand absentmindedly as the car was hauled up the hill by the thick wires. 

Looking out across the city, resting on the white balustrades in the shadows of Fourvière, the view took your breath away. It didn’t matter how many times you saw it, it consistently changed depending on the light, the weather and your mood. Those typically French rooftops softly peaking, reaching for miles around you as the Rhône and Saône snaked lazily around the centre, cradling the rabbit warren of a city in its arms. The warmth from Jasper’s arm had disappeared from your waist, with you barely registering its absence. When you finally clocked that his hand had abandoned your side, you turned to find him holding a small box in his hand.

“Please don’t do this, Jas. You know we can’t,” you pleaded quietly, a cold wave of anxiety rushing through your body. 

“Nush, will you marry me?” Jasper Kelly’s eyes locked onto yours, a man determined to make you his. He’d had enough of your belief that you couldn’t make your relationship official. That Mi5 would have your guts for garters and you’d never be allowed to work together again. Now, he wanted to make it truly official. By the laws of the land official and you were still pushing him away. 

“I love you. I want to spend the rest of my life stroking your hair on the sofa, curling around you in bed and kissing your forehead whilst you’re reading.” 

“You can do all of that now.  You do that all now. You don’t need to marry me to continue to do that. Please, Jas. We’ve been through this. I don’t know how many more times I need to explain this to you or if there even is another way of explaining it.” you fretted anxiously as a lump gathered in your throat.

Your heart then shattered when you saw Jasper’s head drop with grief. You didn’t want to hurt him. The thought of doing it was completely abhorrent but how could you explain this to anyone? How could you be someone’s fiancé when the two of you could only exist in fleeting moments whenever and wherever you couldn’t be seen? You’d been partnered with Jasper from your first day in Stephens’ office as a rookie when your heart was slightly less guarded than now and whilst you’d worked together for close to fifteen years, you’d spent just over a decade hiding any sign that there was anything more than a professional partnership. You’d never met each other’s families as anything other than colleagues for fear of admonishment and relocations or worse through work. It was all an imperfect game of hide and seek. 

Hephzi, the woman with whom you trusted your deepest darkest secrets, had no idea that you’d had anything more than a professional relationship. Your mum had positively gushed over him and even said in front of Jasper, what a good husband he’d make, looking pointedly at you. Stephens had muttered something to Jasper once that he wondered whether the pair of you were anything more- Jasper convinced you that he’d made it sound light and easy. Nothing that would ever infringe on your ability to work together.

However, Andy had spotted how steady everything was in Sainsburys when the three of you were picking up beers together after a late night working session. Jasper had unthinkingly swept the mass of hair off your back and kissed you tenderly on the point where your neck and shoulder met as you were waiting to pay and the way you’d leant back into his touch, a calmness and love radiating through your face told him everything. He was the only one who had any visual evidence that this wasn’t just someone to crawl into bed and take your frustrations out by grinding together until the world ceased to exist as anything other than short term sensations. No, this was tender. This was long term. These were two people who just worked in every sense of the word. You hadn’t even realised that Andy had any sort of idea until after Jasper had died- that he’d kept the knowledge of that moment to himself, never mentioning a word. 

“I can’t keep living my life like this, Nush. I want to be able to live normally. Not constantly in the shadows as you think we have to be.” Jasper pleaded, “I want you to meet my mum as my girlfriend, my fiancée, my wife. Not as my bloody work colleague. Life doesn’t begin and end at work.”

“I don’t expect you to have kids. I don’t expect you to ever step down from the work that I know you live for. I just want us to be a team in every aspect, everywhere. Not covertly. Constantly hiding in the darkness to be able to sneak a moment here and there,”Jasper pleaded with you, trying to catch your eye.

You closed your eyes tightly, wishing that you could be million miles away from there, “If that is what you want, I can’t give you that, Jas.” You struggled to hold back the tears as you mumbled,  “You deserve for all of your dreams to come true and to have the life that you imagine but the one you’ve described isn’t a future I can be a part of.” 

“For one thing, I... I know kids are a big thing for you and I can’t make you give up on that dream to be a dad.You know that work will always be my baby and a huge part of our work is being untraceable- we make this official, have a family and we instantly put each other and any maybe babies at risk of being hurt by unscrupulous characters.” 

You’d stood there, shoulder to shoulder with Jasper in silence. The city was no longer in focus as your eyes spilled hot, salty tears. Everything hurt. Everything ached. 

“What are we going to do, Jas?” You turned to face him with your tear streaked face and trembling chin, “Where do we go from here?

“I’m not sure,” Jasper whispered, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands, “I just want to hold you and never let go and pretend that you said yes, or pretend that this never happened so that we can go on going through the motions that this is what we both want.” 

Jasper used his thumb to wipe the tears away from your cheeks, staring deeply into your eyes.

“You are right though,” he added, his jaw tensed. “I want all of you to myself, Nush. The thought of returning to London and having to hide again makes me feel sick to my stomach. I’m too old and exhausted to keep playing these games. We need to make a decision before we head back to the UK.”  

You stumbled past him, the uneven ground carving into the thin soles of your pumps as tears stung your eyes. There was a small road with barely any pavement winding its way down the hill that your feet followed, not knowing where it would lead but your mind was elsewhere as the wind blew in your face, and a desperate sobbing carried on the breeze behind you. 

✪✪✪✪✪ 

Walking across the airport concourse, you scan the area for the man you’d only met less than twelve hours earlier. Initially, you are searching for someone who fills a sharply tailored suit perfectly but then it clicks. The meeting isn’t until tomorrow morning- he, like you, has probably run home to grab a change of clothes and a carry on bag. Bollocks! Perhaps you should have accepted a lift to the airport from him. Surely, he can’t look that different? As you head closer to the EasyJet desk, scanning the airport crowds left and right for a handsome, middle-aged man, you finally clock him. He’s slightly leaning against a wall reading a paperback, concentrating on the text with his dark eyebrows furrowed and pinching his plump bottom lip between his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger. How the fuck does someone still look so neat even in just jeans and a hoodie? A genuine smile crosses Marcus’ face, the lines around his eyes crinkling deeply, as he spots you walking towards him. 

“Hey! Sorry this was so last minute- I received the email about this meeting whilst you were in the bathroom sorting the burn on your hand. How is it doing?” he enquires passing you your ticket. 

Pouting as you examine the back of your hand, “I don’t think it quite requires an amputation at the neck yet, Sir.”

Marcus scrunches his nose up with the chuckle he releases at your terrible joke, his dimple flashing in his cheek. You can’t help but relax your face into a slight smile. 

“We need to create a mandate that no one calls me Sir in our office. Makes me feel old,” Marcus jokingly grumbles. 

“I’m not saying a word,” you say as you swing your rucksack over your shoulder, heading towards check in. 

Marcus’ eyes widened with a mock hurt expression, “Hey, low blow.  You’re not that much younger than me!” He grumbles, “Way to kick a man when he’s down!”

With those words, you turn back from the desk with a wink and a small grin that make Marcus’ heart flutter. 

✪✪✪✪✪ 

Despite the quick hop over from Stansted to Lyon, Marcus had made sure that you’d got seats with extra legroom. “Are you always this thoughtful, or just trying to make a good impression?” You almost said trying to get into your knickers but managed to maintain appropriateness bearing in mind that this poor man had been your boss for barely a day.

“I aim to not be a dick as much as possible,” Marcus counters. “Listen. You went a bit pale when I invited you to come with me today. It must be really strange having a new boss after so much time with Stephens. I hope you didn’t feel that I forced you into coming- I would hate for you to feel uncomfortable around me.”

Your face drops a little and you shake your head slightly, “It wasn’t that, Sir, I mean Agent Pike-”

“You can call me Marcus. I’m not keen on those formalities - and we’re on our own time now, although we’re travelling for work!” He huffs and chuckles, watching for your response.

“What about Sir Agent Marcus Pike? That work?” you tease mercilessly, your eyebrow arched and barely glancing at him as you flick through your iPad at the agenda for the next day’s meeting.

“Yeah, that works. My Mom would be delighted for me to be a Knight! Put me in your phone as that,” Marcus plays along, enjoying the friendly banter that seemed to have built between you. “Anyway, I interrupted you- what were you about to say?”

“I didn’t feel forced, Marcus. We may have known each other for less than half a day but please understand that I would have told you in no uncertain terms that I would be uncomfortable travelling with you had it been the case,” you firmly state looking directly in those hypnotic chocolate brown eyes. Marcus gazes straight back entranced, softening his gaze, feeling astounded that you were focussed on him. 

“Do you want to talk about the real reason then?” Marcus gently pries, “I mean, there’s no way anyone gets to our age without ghosts or baggage, and a problem sha-“

“No.” Despite Marcus guarding his feelings well, you can see that he’s surprised by the sharpness of your tone. Marcus unconsciously folds his arms across his chest and a wave of guilt floods your mind as you know that it’s a defensive move, protecting himself against you.

“Where are we staying when we get there?” you try changing the subject and softening your tone even though a bitter metallic taste was stinging the back of your throat. 

You watch Marcus awkwardly fumbling in his pocket that was restricted by the seat, searching for his phone “Uh, I think it’s the Mercure Lyon Centre Beaux-Arts- it was booked earlier by Andy. We’ve got separate rooms but they’re next to each other- I hope you don’t mind the proximity?”

You shake your head, trying to stay quiet, wanting to avoid upsetting or irritating your new boss any further. 

✪✪✪✪✪

Marcus rolls his bag into his room after wishing you a goodnight at the door to your room. He hangs his shirt in the cupboard, and grabs his grooming bag, walking into the bathroom with the intention of a long, hot shower. 

His mind is spinning with thoughts of you. Something about you intrigues him. He wants to know everything and yet you veer wildly between a cool, hard nosed professional and this warm, gently-teasing ray of sunshine. He feels like every conversation he holds with you, he manages to take a couple of steps forward and then roughly a thousand back. 

Between the stilted conversations and the colour your face had turned in that earlier meeting, he is genuinely worried about how your relationship will eventually pan out. Will you always hold him at arm's length? Would he be ever entrusted to Andy levels of closeness? Marcus rubs the furrows in his brow as thoughts of you zip around unrestrainedly. 

You had been put forward as being unparalleled in your knowledge of art, forgers techniques and a multi linguist to boot and whilst your intelligence was obvious, would you ever let him get any closer? Andy was so obviously fond of you and had sung your praises from the rooftops - but there was something you were hiding.

Stripping down to his pants, he turns on the shower, relishing the pressure of the jet on his wrist as the water rushes out. Marcus sheds himself of his underwear and steps under the torrent of gloriously warm water. 

Allowing it to cascade over him, he stands there, permitting the water to rinse him free of everything. Apart from you. As he shut his eyes, all he can see is the shine of your dark hair and those almond-shaped eyes of yours. He’s known you for less than half a day and it was as if you had already tattooed a permanent image of yourself in his brain. Squeezing a blob of shampoo out into his hand, he brings it into his dripping wet curls, massaging the liquid through his dark roots. 

Of course this would be the moment that a knock sounded sharply at his door. Quickly rinsing the suds from his hair, he grabs the available bath sheet, wrapping it tightly around his waist before walking to the hotel room door. In the seemingly short seconds of his jumping out of the shower, his visitor has disappeared from the hallway. Just as Marcus cranes his neck to squint a little further down the hall, a buzz comes from his phone, alerting him to a message.

Sorry- knocked, then heard the shower. Gone to find food- let me know if you don’t like or are allergic to anything. Be back in five or tell me to piss off if you don’t want anything, Nush x

Your name lit up the screen. With a kiss at the end. Exhaling a deep sigh and shutting his eyes tightly, Marcus doesn’t think he could ever tell you to go away. 

Surprise me, M

✪✪✪✪✪

A little more than five minutes later, you turn up at Marcus’ door holding a bag stuffed with a selection of saucisson sec, Brie de meaux, cornichons, artichokes and a couple of sticks of pain de campagne. Your rucksack clinks suspiciously with a couple of bottles of Côte de Rhône, which makes Marcus’s eyes light up. 

“That was a quick recce! Good choices here though!” He remarks, impressed with your finds as he takes the bags from you. 

“I know Lyon well. Was seconded here for a while with Interpol’s art crime department.” you offer with an anxious sideways  look at Marcus as you break off a hunk of bread, hollowing out the soft centre and shovelling it into your starving mouth. 

Please don’t pry. Please don’t pry. Please don’t pry.

You see a gentle acknowledgment from the other agent’s eyes. Now knowing better than to press you further, Marcus instead grabs his iPad, “Wanna watch a film?”

“Sure, what’ve you got?” You ask absentmindedly when really you’re far more concerned about filling your growling stomach, “Actually scratch that, you choose. You’re the head of an art crime department, your taste can’t be that terrible.”

“Hah! Do you treat all your co-workers so nicely, or am I just special??” Marcus teases whilst enjoying the ease that seems to have developed with the appearance of the food, “So, Sharknado 3, then?”

“Ah, my favourite of the trilogy!” You play along as Marcus’ beautifully deep chuckle reaches your ears. 

Marcus and you settle on either end of the sofa, the food spread between you on the coffee table and the water glasses filled with wine. The iPad set between the two of you plays Roman Holiday and whilst you both initially rave about the level of beauty from Audrey Hepburn and Gregory Peck, you both fall into a calm, comfortable silence, absorbed by the romantic comedy. Every now and then, you feel a soft pair of eyes on you, which you occasionally catch to send small lopsided smiles back.

As Ann walks away from Joe reluctantly on the screen and Joe lingers after her departure, you stretch and gaze around the room. Your eyes fall upon a broad chest that is steadily rising and falling and your ears prick at soft snores as Marcus breathes in. Knees cracking as you rise from the couch, you shake each leg out and stretch slowly with a small squeak as your joints finally decide to be in a position to move again. Moving quietly over to the bed, you grab the quilt and lug it to the sofa, pulling the covers over Marcus’ peacefully sleeping frame. 

✪✪✪✪✪

As the door softly clicks shut, and slightly disturbs his rest with a cool breeze that carries the smallest hint of your perfume, Marcus could have sworn that you’d kissed your fingers then touched it to his brow. The soft brush of your fingertips a gentle memory on the creases of his forehead.

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