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alucarddear · 11 months

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Position anon again, would you please write a NSFW alphabet for Alucard? Pretty please? 🥺

Alucard N S F W Alphabet*

I'm personally offended that I haven't done this for Lulu before. Anyway, rather than just spelling out his name, I'll give you the entire alphabet. Heh. This is LONG! Your thoughts and keyboard smashes are welcome. 🤭

P.S. I go explicit and specific; read at your own risk. I also tried my best to keep it as gender-neutral as possible, so this is [Alucard x You]. However, I did have a little self-indulgent fun with W: wild card, the only section with an obvious she/her indication. Just so you know!

A: Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Aftercare is not optional to this dhampir. It's a must. It doesn't matter if you had a quick romp or a long night, he'd still take the time to treat you right, especially if he'd been rather rough with you.

Forehead kisses, soft caresses, helping clean you up—you name it and he's got it covered. It's all about making sure you feel loved, appreciated, and cared for.

Alucard is not one to just up and leave or make you feel used. In fact, it's noticeable how much more he dotes on you after actually using you up good and fucking you raw into next week. 😏

B: Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

Your neck. Let's not even pretend that Alucard doesn't gravitate towards it. As you ride him, he buries his face in the crook of your neck and nips and pecks at your throat. There's a part of him that wants to sink his fangs into you then and there and another that wants nothing more than to whisper sweet nothings against your skin as you throw your head back in bliss.

Alucard likes his hands—the way they're so large against yours; how perfectly your hands feel in his own. He likes his hands gripping your thighs or hips, his hand coming down to slap your ass, his hands caressing every inch of you. The way his hand closes around your wrist, encircling it completely as if it was made to do nothing but. The way he pushes you down with his hand on the small of your back as he prepares to take you from behind. Most of all, all of the things his hands can do to make you cum.

C: Cum (anything to do with cum)

Alucard's desire to spill his seed inside you is next to nothing sometimes. If you'd let him, he'd bury himself balls-deep and cum inside you each and every time.

He loves to make you cum, loves the way you sound—the hitching of your breath, your begging, the way you can barely keep yourself from shaking as he coaxes yet another orgasm out of you. He loves to praise you for it. "God, you're fucking beautiful," is something you hear often. It just never gets old.

D: Dirty secret (a dirty secret of theirs)

Alucard loves when you allow him to bend you over whichever way he pleases. Loves how tiny and pliable you look underneath him, adjusting and propping your arms and legs as he sees fit. Just the sight of you like that, it's enough to push him over the edge.

So, you know he draws you—you are his muse after all. You've seen his sketches. But not the ones of your beautiful, naked body. Not even the tasteful pieces he draws as you sleep. Not the ones where, try as he might, he just can't replicate how utterly divine you look when he fucks you. He's a talented artist, but nothing tops the real thing.

E: Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Is he very experienced? No. Does he know what he's doing? Hell yes. His mother was a doctor and his father is a man of science. He lives in a castle full of resources. He has deep knowledge of biology—he's got the theory down pat. Sure, he fumbled a little the first few times, but he quickly learnt how you like to be pleased.

Besides, being a dhampir, Alucard is in tune with your body's responses to his ministrations. When you're intimate, he can practically feel your heart racing, dear. He knows when you're close, can tell when he's hitting it good, need I say more?

F: Favourite position (this goes without saying)

Mastery. He sits on the edge of the bed, feet flat on the floor to support you sitting on top of him with your legs bent on either side of him, your feet flat on the bed. This position allows you to wrap your arms around his neck and kiss. It lets you start off slow, very intimate—with you grinding against and riding him. Once you're a little tired (or he starts growing impatient), he simply grips your hips and pounds up into you until you're a screaming wreck. His grip on your hips and his feet securely planted on the floor allows him to rut into you fast. And the view? Fucking fantastic. He loves watching you come undone like this, seeing you throw your head back and expose your throat to him. Yes.

For a quick romp, you can't go wrong with doggy style. When you're in his study and you both get a little too distracted? He’ll bend you over his desk and have his way with you.

G: Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Oh, he's very serious about giving both of you a good time, alright. He might do something that makes you giggle, sure, but for the most part it's probably accidental and not his intention. Sex with Alucard can be intimate and sweet or downright animals humping in the undergrowth (👀), no in between. He's not here for the shits and giggles, darling.

H: Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It does match. Maybe not all the time completely bare, but he keeps himself neat and tidy. Do you see his luxurious hair? He takes care of himself down there too.

I: Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Alucard loves to see you and hear you. He's considerate and goes out of his way to find what works for you. So much so he probably has ruined you for anyone else. You'll never find a more receptive lover; it’s time to accept that.

When you make sweet love, he whispers sweet nothings against your skin. He peppers kisses all over you and makes you feel like the most gorgeous being on the planet. He's not afraid to voice his thoughts out loud too, praising you and urging you on.

J: Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

You remember those naughty sketches of you? Yep. He has used them a couple times while you were away. You're in his thoughts whenever he touches himself.

K: Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Edging. He not-so-secretly loves it when you beg. How are you to know how much more you can take? He'll just have to show you.

When you moan his name as you grip the sheets and quake beneath him? Yeah. He loves it, especially when you can barely even make out the words for “Adrian, please, please, please.”

When you take control and ride him like your life depends on it, it does something to his brain. You on top, taking control and looking absolutely beautiful as you do so... he could cum just from the thought of it.

There is a part of him that likes the thought of cumming deep inside you and breeding you. Maybe it's that loneliness that sometimes nags at him, maybe he yearns for a family, but he can't lie this feels utterly divine.

L: Location (favourite places to do the do)

The bed is cliche, but it works and is comfortable. Your kitchen counter, desk, against the wall or a tree, table, or out at some secluded clearing by the lake... Alucard is truly not that picky, as long as you're not out in the public for other eyes to see and you’re both comfortable.

M: Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Your reactions and enthusiasm. Knowing you're into it just as much as he is.

When you sashay towards him, crooking your finger at him to beckon him closer? He's right there with you in a heartbeat.

When you wear his shirt and it swallows your smaller frame? It turns him on more than he lets on.

When you moan his name and gasp and writhe in pleasure. When you beg for him to take you harder, faster, and deeper. It just about short-circuits his brain.

N: No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Any form of bondage or restrictions to his movement. It brings up unnecessary trauma and makes him feel that he's not in control or safe. He is mostly a switch, sure, letting you take control and dominate too, but tying him up is just a no-go for him.

He won't transform into a wolf. It's practically bestiality, which he's not down for.

Somnophilia or any other act where consent can be dubious. He's just big on consent and trust, for obvious reasons.

O: Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves having absolute control over your pleasure, knowing it's him coaxing the sighs and moans and screams out of you. He enjoys how easily he can make you cum and drive you mad.

That said, he also loves watching you pleasure him, taking as much of his hard length as you can, especially whenever you greedily swallow his load.

P: Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It really depends. Sex can be whatever it needs to be in the moment. While he loves nothing more than to take his time and make sweet love to you, he also loves ravaging you and leaving you utterly spent. It's satisfying either way.

The usual case is he begins slowly and sensually, but by the end of it (and sometimes without warning), he's rutting into you like his life depends on it.

Q: Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He isn't above having a quickie if that is all time permits, but he would really much rather have his way with you properly!

R: Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Given that he's a dhampir, he knows exactly how to go unseen or unnoticed. It's likely his risk assessment is much more honed. You might think you're being risky, but he is well aware of the chances of you getting caught in the act.

As for experimenting—other than his hard reservations (the ones listed in N), he is game to experiment and try different things you may be curious about as long as you both feel safe and comfortable about them.

S: Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's a dhampir... need I say more? The chances of you exhausting him first is little. Sorry to burst your bubble. 😆 He's got stamina for days, honey.

T: Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Alucard is not above using toys to pleasure you. But what can a toy do that he can't do better? Hah. Chances are he will attempt to learn how it pleases you and try to replicate that with his own cock, mouth, and hands.

U: Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can be such a little tease. You know the way he banters. That snark and sass can sometimes make their way inside the bedroom too.

"What was that, darling?" he'd ask, as if his amazing sense of hearing wasn't enough to register your begging as he edges you for the nth time. "Tsk. Patience, my love..." he would even dare chide you!

Alucard also loves to glide his fangs over your skin, just enough to leave a faint mark but not enough to draw blood.

V: Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not shy to let you know he’s having a good time, but he’s also not overly loud. He gasps, moans, and curses, a tight-lipped “Fuck!” slipping out once in a while.

W: Wild card (a random headcanon)

He loves to praise you. His way of talking dirty is to let you know how good you feel around him. How ethereal you are, how perfect for him, how you taste so sweet.

He encourages you as he pushes you over the limit. “Yes, yes, darling, you can take it. Cum for me,” he would say. He’d place a kiss on your open mouth as you convulse around him as he rips yet another orgasm out of you. “My sweet darling,” he would groan, wiping the sweat off your brow. “How perfect you are. Good girl.” And just like that, he’s about to do it all over again. RIP. 😫

X: X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He’s active and it shows. He’s well built without being overly bulky. It suits him—muscular/toned yet elegant and lean.

He’s packing a just-about-above average penis, but nothing you cannot handle. The man’s over six foot, it just fits.

Y: Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Alucard is the type to yearn and pine, so set the volume level up cause he cannot get enough of you. Enough said.

Z: Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Sometimes you drift off to sleep together, but you usually fall asleep first.

He’s a night owl. He’d take you in his arms and stroke your hair as you sleep, admiring the way you glow under the moonlight, and wonder how he got so lucky to have found you. 🤍🌙

#if you disagree just scroll and let us have fun lmao #I’m not about to have another discourse on this #alucard #castlevania #alucarddear headcanons #adrian tepes #alucard fahrenheit tepes #Alucard x reader

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the-californicationist · 2 months

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Let's get you to 100, new gif addition and prompt ask!

Reader likes being controlled, even as she chafes against it, but there's only 1 person she wants to have that privilege.

You decide who, have fun writing lovely 😏

heyyy!! im backkkkkkk 😘 sorry for the wait! had to go on a bit of a hiatus, so thanks for being patient. and thank you so much for the ask!! sexy as hell babes omg. hope you like it. i went a little overboard on the word count sorry 🫣

TW: light bdsm and contol themes, rough sex

Soft Reins

His voice followed you down the wet sidewalk as you made your escape, striding in long reaching steps to put more distance between yourself and your apartment.

“C’mon, bonnie! Ye cannae walk in this shite. It’s pissin’ down. Bonnie!”

You waved and smiled up at Soap as he hung over the balcony of your shared space, a deep frown pasted across his mouth as he tried to dodge the raindrops.

Living with the boys, as you lovingly called them, was full of challenges. For one, they seemed to be oblivious to deep cleaning of any kind, and if you didn’t have the primary school style chore chart hanging on the fridge, your whole house would descend into chaos. The only exception was their captain, and his standards were thankfully on par with your own.

But, even worse, they were nosey. They seemed to love to be in your business, always making excuses to join you on nights out, standing in an all-too-intimidating pack when you brought home dates from said outings. Even Price was not above casually bullying an unsuspecting potential someone. It was enough to drive a girl mad.

You never got a call back. Any bloke brave enough to follow you back to your place, flanked by your surly entourage, was only as courageous as he needed to be to get his dick wet. After that, he’d ghost you. There were plenty of eligible partners who had much less intimidating roommates.

In the past year, the longest relationship you had was with a man who didn’t make it over to your house for nearly four months. You had gone through all sorts of trouble to keep the boys from finding out about him, and you guarded his address like it was the nuclear launch codes. You thought you were in the clear when the team had to leave for another deployment, but one morning — when you were wearing only your boyfriend’s tee shirt — they decided to come tromping back in, totally unannounced.

It was all over, then. Back to the drawing board.

Gaz was the worst offender by far. Once, when you had planned a spa date for yourself, you’d been treated to all sorts of services that you didn’t order. The staff kept insisting that it was complimentary, but you knew in your heart that it wasn’t. By the end of the visit, you were left fretting about the bill. But, when you walked up to the counter, you discovered that it had already been paid.

“Oh! Your mister called it in. Already paid.” The clerk’s smile was blinding in only the way a clerk’s smile could be.

“And who is the mister?” You smiled to yourself, not with much joy, shoving your credit card back into your wallet.

“Well, he said he was your mister. A Mr. Garrick?”

Of course.

You had only to turn around to see his shining red Beamer revved and waiting to take you to lunch. Gaz’s sunglasses gleamed in the daylight as he grinned down at you, standing over his car, his elbows resting on the roof, smug as could be.

You met him in the parking lot, bags and bags of essential oils and spa creams, heavy in your hands.

“Kyle,” you said curtly, “What did you do?”

“Nothin’, babes. Get in. We’ve got a table at that sushi joint you like.”

You complained that Gaz was overstepping. You moaned about Soap being heavy-handed. You lost your temper when you found the fourteenth Air Tag that Ghost had sewn into the bottom of your trainers. It was too much. You hated feeling trapped, and you thrived in your independence. But, living with these men meant that your desire for freedom was directly at odds with their desire for control.

It wasn’t their fault, really. That was who they were. They were good at their high-profile special operation world-saving careers because they were good at control. It was what made them great soldiers.

But, one of them was far better at it than the others.

Captain John Price didn’t follow you down the street. He didn’t chase you in his shadowy, blacked-out Evija. And he certainly didn’t need to hide trackers in your clothes. No; his control was insidious. It made your blood boil, and it had you questioning your every move. He had a way of making you think that what he wanted was what you wanted, and when you ultimately discovered his plans, you could only blame yourself. Price was the king of control, but that wasn’t the worst part.

The worst part was that you liked it.

You hadn’t been home for the holidays in years. Ever since lockdown, and your huge workload at your office, you just couldn’t find the time to make it back. International flights were hard to plan, expensive, and it seemed like something always came up. When you mentioned it off-handedly to Price, he’d comforted you,

“Tha’s alright, sweetheart. I’m sure you’ll find the time this year.”

That was in June. By December, your boss had mysteriously found out that you had a full week of extra paid time off that you needed to take, and your credit card called you to let you know that your airline mileage points had doubled. It was as if everything in the universe had aligned so that you could make it back to your family.

You’d told the boys over dinner one night, and they celebrated with you, happy for you to be able to finally live your dream. Then, Price had grabbed your phone, reading the email and going over the fine print.

It grated on you, but you needed to learn how to pick your battles in this house. So, you waited for his approval, tight-lipped.

“Double miles… ah, there’s a catch,” his voice rumbled in his chest, low and even.

“What catch?” You panicked. Nothing could upset this perfect balance you’d achieved.

He pointed down to the conditions, and you read it for yourself as he told you,

“Says here they granted double miles for two tickets purchased.”

“Two? Who the fuck am I going to get to come to Saskatoon in December?” You sighed, head in your hands, trying to figure out how you were going to make it work.

“Well, the boys are heading up to check on MacTavish’s mum, but Kate’s got me on a leash. I can ask her to make me remote on this project, if you want.”

His tone wasn’t sly. It didn’t sound like he was hiding something. If anything, he sounded earnest, and it was such a kind gesture of friendship that he would be willing to join you in order to help you see your folks.

But, that’s what wormed its way under your skin. You knew it was him. You just couldn’t prove it. Months of God knows what kind of backdoor, black-market dealing and manipulation, all orchestrated just to…

Just to what? Make you happy?

Inwardly, you struggled against your bindings, the invisible ropes he’d so carefully weaved just to have you come to him of your own free will, bent on your hands and knees, obedient and eager for your reward.

“Jonathan…” You started to resist, to rebel. Every time you started your sentence, you were stopped in your tracks by the cold, hard truth: He didn’t force you to do anything. You’d done it all of your own free will.

That was how it had started. But, holy fuck had it escalated.

Price was the perfect gentleman on your flight over, mysteriously charming his way into business class seats. He downloaded some of your favorite movies onto his iPad, even though you didn’t remember ever telling him that they were your favorites. He even snuck his way back to the flight attendants’ galley, laughing and joking with them, procuring you two extra desserts from the carts since you were such a fan.

Then, he met your family, and he fit in perfectly. It was as if he was the missing member, a long lost kin, just waiting to be reunited into the fold. Your mother couldn’t figure out what had you so bothered.

“About time you brought a good one home. Even your Uncle Billy likes him, and Billy —”

You rolled your eyes,

“And Billy doesn’t like anyone, I know. I know.”

“Honey,” your mother looked at you with a sternness that she didn’t often muster, peering at you over her rose-rimmed glasses, “Why can’t you just let someone take care of you for a change? He’s a good man.”

A good man.

John Price was a killer. No, he was worse. He was a CIA-funded, black ops, government-overthrowing war machine, capable of literal atrocities. You hadn’t heard much, but you’d heard enough. If any of these people knew how quickly he could turn a crowded room into an empty one, none of them would be looking so fondly at the way he snuggled with the dog or complimented your dad’s knife collection.

But, that wasn’t why you protested, was it? If you were really being honest with yourself, the reason why you were so against letting Jonathan War Machine Price run your life was that it was yours to run. You didn’t need anyone’s help.

You didn’t need it.

You could handle things on your own.

You liked being able to spread your wings, fly your own path…

You were nobody’s puppet.

But, you were starting to like the way he was pulling your strings. When he would take the pressure of choice away from you, after you’d already been making a million other decisions at the end of a long day, it eased something inside of you in a way that nothing else could. It was like he was using those huge, rough palms to massage the hurt out of your head, to show you that it didn’t need to be such a battle, you didn’t need to keep fighting. He would do the fighting for you, and he was determined to show you that he was good at it.

Even now, as you stomped through the rain, you knew what you were running from. You told yourself you were avoiding John, that you wouldn’t let him see you struggling to hold yourself together. After a much needed switch into a different position at work, the stress of your own expectations weighed heavy on you. But, you wanted them to. You wanted to know that you could still make it alone. You didn’t need John Price.

But, you’re wearing the slicker he bought for you when yours got left in a cab.

So?

But, you smell like oud, saffron, and bergamot; the perfume oils he found for you at that local boutique you love. The same one he always compliments when he smells you wearing it.

So?

But, you’re tired and wet and cold, and all you want is for him to tell you what you want.

So?!

The soft, amber glow of a cigar stopped you in your tracks. A man was sitting on your bus stop bench, his arm slung over the back of the seat, his legs spread wide, taking up as much space as he liked. He was smoking slowly, enjoying every breath, savoring the flavors. Flavors you knew all too well: vanilla, licorice, sweet cedar, and whiskey.

His sharp, blue eyes only met yours when you let out a labored sigh.

“What are you doing here, John?”

He took another drag, letting the ashes smolder, their warm glow making him look more and more like the Devil, a fallen man bathed in the light of a fire he lit all by himself. And damn proud of the blaze, too.

“Just waitin’ for my ride,” he smiled in the way that a cat must smile at a mouse under its paw, “Do you wanna sit down, sweetheart?”

“No! I don’t wanna sit down,” you threw up your hands, “I want you to stop meddling in my life. You’re not allowed to keep making me feel like… like I need someone… some — Like I need someone’s fucking help. I don’t need anyone but me.”

His tone shifted in a sudden heat, like a flash in the pan, unexpected,

“Do you think I have any bloody help?”

Price let the question sink in before standing in front of you, his gaze never leaving your eyes. His voice was soft and gravelly, thick with smoke, and yet each and every word cut into you as sharp as a blade,

“Do you think anyone comes to help me when I’m deep in some bullshit, fuckin’ around in Rammaza? Just me, is it? By myself?”

“I don’t… no, I don’t know…” You hated how small your voice sounded in this tiny bus stop hut, the pounding rain drowning out your words.

John looked at you as if he was waiting on you to find another answer, and then his face softened. He flung the cigar onto the pavement and crushed it out under his boot, smashing the tobacco into the cement without mercy. The object of his affection, once consumed, now snuffed out under his own power.

His hands wrapped around your shoulders, caging you in, warm and safe from the wind blocked by his broad back. He sighed, his mouth drawing a tight line across his face,

“Of course I need fuckin’ help. I have my men, and they have me. And I keep you here,” he jammed a finger hard into his chest, “Deep inside me, remindin’ me what I need to come home to. I’m not… meddling in your life, love. I’m trying to put you in mine. I thought…”

He pulled away, sitting back down, looking up at you with a unique look on his face,

“I thought that’s what you wanted. If I’m wrong,” he let out a dark, bitter chuff, “You need to tell me right now. ‘Cause all my plans have you in them.”

The rain made the plexiglass roof sound like it was shattering, over and over, the concussive slam of the storm created an oppressive din. He was waiting there, looking at you, asking for your next move. What was your plan?

“Am I wrong, sweetheart?”

You waited, trying to see how many steps ahead he was in front of you. If you said yes, if you said no; what decisions had already been made for you? Did he know what you were going to say before you did? And the real question: Why were you fighting so hard against something you wanted so badly?

You shook your head back and forth, just enough for him to see. HIs eyes lit up with hope and energy, a renewed flame.

“Then, come home with me. Quit bein’ so bloody hard on yourself. Let’s get you dry, love. C’mon.”

So, you obeyed.

Nothing was more humbling than climbing into a squat little sports car when you were drenched to the bone. You curled yourself right into his cage, feeling silly for ever wanting to escape from it. Why were you pulling so hard against such soft reins? Couldn’t you see that he wanted to take care of you? To remove all of your barriers, to clear your path? You would be more powerful under his wing, soaring far beyond what you were capable of on your own. Why deny yourself a bite of the apple? It was ripe, the snake had promised, and sweet.

He helped you up the stairs to your flat, walking you past his men as they gathered together in the kitchen, speechless, for once. None of them dared question their captain’s choices, and he had chosen you. More than that, it was clear that you had chosen him.

Once you were in his room, behind a locked door, he held up a hand and stopped you in the entryway, shivering and dripping by the door.

“Wait here.”

You waited.

You waited some more.

Just when you thought you would turn around and take yourself to bed, he returned dressed in a dry tee and a pair of running shorts. He carried two large, fluffy towels, and his face was set into a serious mask. All business.

“Take off your clothes.”

You hesitated, looking at him to make sure you heard him correctly.

He met your gaze, standing so close to you that you could feel his breath against your cheek. His chest was inches from your face, and you had to look up in order to meet his eyes.

“Take.”

He grabbed your phone out of your hand and dropped it on his entry table.

“Off.”

He rucked the jacket off of your back, peeling it down your arms and letting it fall to the ground with a wet slap.

“Your.”

His fingers pulled the tie out of your ruined braid, letting the elastic roll onto his wrist.

“Clothes.”

His hands went back to his side. It was up to you to do the rest. He wasn’t here to do everything for you. You were not his plaything. You had to choose to obey him. He wanted to watch you choose to follow his orders, not because you needed to, but because you wanted to.

Slowly, and a bit unsure, you began to shed your layers. You started with your shirt, almost knocking into him with your elbows since he was towering over you, standing in your space. Then, you writhed out of your jeans, peeling them off of your legs, kicking away your shoes in the process, stepping gingerly out of your socks, needing to hold onto his thick trunk for balance.

Now, in just your bra and panties, you waited, hoping he’d hand you a towel.

“What did I say?” He asked in a hushed tone, the timbre containing just enough warning to make your cheeks hot.

“No, John. The boys are here in the kitchen!” You protested, whispering in a low hiss.

This was beyond what you expected from him. You’d been keeping him at arm’s length, despite his constant pressure to be in your life. Sure, there had been moments of weakness. You’d shared a kiss, and you had let his hands wander when you watched a movie together on the sofa last weekend, but that was as far as things had gone. Stripping naked in the bright light of his apartment suite was something else entirely. Not to mention what sort of noises would seep out under his doorway if things got out of hand.

“Stop,” he grabbed you by your face with both hands, making you look at him, “Stop fighting me. I am in this. All the way. The only time I wanna hear you tell me no is when you really mean it. If you say stop, I will immediately stop. Do I make myself clear?”

You nodded. He released you and put his hands on his hips, impatient.

So, you slid out of your bra, slowly letting the cups pull away from your breasts, the lace cold and damp on your skin as it joined your outfit on the floor. As you rolled your panties off of your hips, stepping out of them and shoving them under your jacket with your toe, you felt more than just naked. You felt vulnerable and a little scared.

What would he say? What did he plan to do? You realized, with a chilly shudder, that you didn’t even know his personal preferences. He’d never even given you a cursory glance into his mind, and reading his thoughts was impossible with that serious poker face. Most men wore their thoughts right across their eyes, or some (like Soap) even muttered them aloud, unconcerned about any judgment or scrutiny. If a man wanted you, you’d know. They were an open book.

But the captain was very hard to read.

Suddenly, as you stood back up, warring with your own mind, you were surrounded in fuzzy, comforting warmth. He was drying you off, wiping your arms and legs with reverent care, squeezing the rain out of your hair, using the corner of the cloth to wipe your face, holding you in his arms when you felt weak, off-balance, exhausted.

It seemed as if the more you relaxed into him, the more power you gave up, the more it began to stoke his fire. While you became soft and pliant, he shifted into a fierce protector, covering you with his hands, bracing you with his heavy bones.

Price wrapped your hair into a high bun with an unexpected level of skill, and he carefully stretched your hair tie around it. When he turned to face you, you caught him staring at your body, raking his eyes over your breasts and studying the curve of your mons. It was as if he was groping you with his eyes, and each swipe of his gaze felt like a lick from his warm tongue. It was enough of an invasion that you wanted to put your hands in front of yourself, to hide out of some sort of shame.

But when you made a move to cover yourself, the look in his eyes was enough to make you stand with your hands at your sides, allowing yourself to be on full display for him and that ravenous glare. He hadn’t even needed to chastise you. His mere desire was enough of a correction.

Then, almost like a reward, he wrapped the towel around you, letting you hold it tight to your chest.

“Tell me what’s goin’ on inside that pretty head,” he commanded you, his voice quiet but firm. It was just a simple question, but you knew it was loaded. So, you brushed him off, tossing out cheap bait, wrapping the towel a little tighter around yourself, hoping he’d drop it. You shrugged,

“Just cold.”

His jaw set with a click, and that soft purr became a warning growl,

“That’s one,” he held up his finger, “The next lie will cost you that towel, pretty girl.”

You stared at him blankly, trying to find a way through this labyrinth he had — apparently — custom built for you, sending you down twists and turns and dead ends as if he knew exactly how you’d try to steal back some control. But every way out seemed like a worse fate than simply allowing yourself to trust him. Nevertheless, you tried again.

“I am cold, and I’m tired. It’s been a long day, John,” you sighed, shifting towards him, trying your best to take back the lead to his strange dance, “C’mon, don’t you wanna take me to bed?”

You reached out a hand and snaked it under the hem of his shirt, exploring untouched skin, letting your nails scrape through a dark patch of thick hair, right above his waistband. Your fingers got as far as his navel before he snapped.

The cold absence of him ripping the towel away from you felt worse than you expected it to. In fact, you hadn’t actually taken him seriously. You protested, indignant,

“Hey! What —-“

“You think this is the same game you’ve always played,” he snarled, throwing the towel away and shoving you to your knees, his hold crushing and cruel on the nape of your neck, “You think, because those lads will eat any scraps you throw to them,” he nodded behind you, gesturing toward his men only a thin wall away, “That I’ll be satisfied with a taste, hm?”

His tone was mocking, and there was an undercurrent of darkness that lingered between each word like a warning, like the red of a poisonous berry that shouldn’t be picked and yet sagged ripe and ready on its stem.

“You always get your way with them, don’cha? You know that a bit of skin and a little attention will keep them on you for days. And they reward you for it. They text you at all hours of the fuckin’ night, beggin’ you for just one more look, one more bite,” his mouth was right next to your ear, bending over you, casting his shadows across your face, and all you could do was kneel there, fully under his control, unable to move against his immense strength, “But, that’s not what I want.”

Your eyes dared to slant over to the growing monster that pressed its warm body against his shorts, hanging heavy and stretching the fabric, and you dared to hiss at him, even in your compromised position, using his title like a knife, aiming to scrape him with it,

“Seems like you do, Captain.”

He smirked, you could feel his smile against the sensitive skin of your earlobe, and you could see his almost infernal expression out of the corner of your eye. Even though you were trying to get under his skin, it made you feel like you were playing right into his hand yet again, helpless to his will.

He stood up, never letting go of his grip on your neck, pinching the muscle like you were a caught rabbit, his writhing prey. Then, with a force that made your stomach drop, Price shoved your cheek into the crotch of his shorts, bringing you face to face with the outline his swelling shaft. Your nose was buried in the fabric, and you could smell the soap of his detergent as well as the musk of his sex that throbbed underneath.

Then, he rucked down his waistband to show himself to you, pressing his length along your cheek, the softness of his skin surprising you just as much as the size of his thick, hefty prick.

He held your neck in one hand and his cock in the other as he began to stroke himself up and down, letting your temple and cheekbone feel the slip of his velvet foreskin. You could hear soft, wet clicking sounds as he coated himself in his own fluid, using the clear, dripping pearls as lube.

You tried to move your jaw to taste him, eager to know if the heady, intoxicating smell of his skin matched his precome, hungry for his reaction to your mouth. But he stopped you, tightening his grip and scolding you like a naughty pet,

“My body wants your body, love. I’ll admit that,” he chuckled, not halting his lurid, jerking pulls, using your cheek for friction, “But I want more. I don’t want a taste. Or a bite. I won’t be satisfied.”

He frowned a bit, shrugging off his confession before he continued,

“I want you to trust me. Trust that I’ll be here for you, that I’ll always be here. So,” he tugged on your flesh, forcing you to meet his fiery gaze, “Tell me what you thought.”

What were you supposed to say? That you were insecure about your looks? That you weren’t sure if he’d approve? That you were either too much or not enough and you weren’t sure which?

You turned your mouth as much as you could, trying to at least lick along the warm underbelly of his rod, aching to taste him, but he jerked you back into place, laughing at the disappointment on your face,

“Lips to yourself, love. Only good girls get fed.”

You rolled your eyes up to him, and you knew you had to make a choice. He was joking, but it was a façade. He was using it like a shield, waiting to see if you would actually relinquish your control or if you’d cut and run like you did with everyone else.

So, you decided to trust him, giving him what he wanted, a full confessional on burning, bent knees, eyes cast up at your new master, praying for his communion, your tongue eager for his body and his blood and his love.

You made sure his eyes were locked on yours as you spoke softly, unflinching in your resolve,

“I was worried you wouldn’t like what you saw. I needed you to want me. I was afraid.”

The relief that washed over him was nearly palpable. His whole body responded to your admission, all of that tightly-wound uncertainty melting away in the heat of your submission to him.

“That’s it. Good,” his voice was heavy with his relief, and he almost seemed like he was slipping into a trance, rubbing himself in steady, long strokes, shuddering against your cheek, “And what now, hm? You want me to let you go? Let you free? Or are you gonna let me in?”

You didn’t break your eye contact with him, but you wavered, sure of your decision but overwhelmed when you had to say it out loud. You squeezed your thighs together, feeling the slick mess he was forging between them, trying to find some comfort. You took a breath and told him,

“I’ll let you in, John.”

His throat held back a long, low groan, the pleasure of your surrender or the pleasure of his hand forcing it from his chest. You weren’t sure which.

His grip loosened on your neck, but he didn’t let go. His voice was barely above a whisper as he told you his rules in hushed, broken phrases, holding himself back from the edge,

“You belong to me, now, sweetheart. You might be in charge at your bloody job, but everything else is mine. Do you hear me?”

You were going to answer him, you’d even planned to tack on a cheeky little yes, sir, just to show him you were playing along, but he had other plans. Always a step ahead. Before you could even breathe to speak, he pressed the tender head of his cock between your lips and deep into the warm hollow of your mouth, his wide form forcing your jaw to fall open to let him inside of you. It shocked you to be taken that way, not roughly but so certainly, with such surety, as if there was no other choice but for him to take you. You shifted, but with his knuckles tight against the base of your skull, you couldn’t retreat. Other than lolling your tongue along the body of his shaft, or swallowing against its drooling tip, you were powerless.

His face twisted into a hungry sort of smear full of teeth and lips, grimacing at the feeling of being surrounded by you. Every inch that he drove himself deeper, his breathing would halt until at last, as he buried himself into your clenching throat, his lungs had emptied, and he was sighing with a ragged, guttural cry.

“When you’re with me…” He continued his dark promises to you, the words choppy and broken, only threaded loosely together between panting gasps, “Even when I’m a fuckin’ world away, I promise that I will take care of you,” he pet your cheek with the softest affection, admiring you like a work of art, “All of you. You will sleep when I say. You will eat when I say. You will come when I say,” he smiled a little more cruelly at that, watching your eyes widen. And, as you began to wish for air, planting your palms against his firm, muscular thighs, ready to push away, he looked down at you with a lurid satisfaction, “You will breathe when I say.”

You were choking. You could hear yourself in the quiet of his room, your throat gurgling, full of your own viscous drool, escaping where it could along the stretched line of your mouth, running down your chin and neck. You felt the flare of panic rise up within you, and you tried to pull away in earnest, writhing against his grip, trying to escape from him and failing, turning your body in shameful futility.

Price bent his face toward you, folding himself to whisper his lustful words, making sure your eyes met his, pressing your nose into his soft pubic hair,

“You. Breathe. When. I. Say.”

He kept himself contorted like that, keeping his face low to watch your eyes, to witness your struggle, and you felt hot tears burn down your face, the effort overcoming you. But, you wanted to show him that you could obey. You wanted to trust him, to show him that you were willing to give him your freedom, knowing that only he was worthy of such a gift. So, you swallowed deeply, watching as it made his eyes flutter, and again, and again. Over and over, you closed your throat around his steel-hard length, choking when it became too much.

Still, he kept you there. As brave as you’d been with partners in the past, even those moments were fully eclipsed by this one. You had never even thought that you might be capable of holding your breath for so long.

You were sobbing wholeheartedly now, your eyes reflecting your desperation, tears pooling and spilling across your face. He was watching you cry, whispering breathless nothings, soft words of encouragement,

“I’m so proud of you, sweetheart. You’re so fuckin’ good. My good girl.”

Just as purple and blue spots began to obscure your vision, he pulled himself out of you in a terrible, wet departure, leaving you clutching his hips, sobbing into his belly, watching his hard cock pounding, swaying at full height, swollen with blood and eager for its finish. You could feel those same soft, dark hairs matting down as your tears soaked into them. He ran his fingers through your hair, keeping the fallen strands out of your face, still holding you at your nape, but just to comfort you.

You imagined him letting go, and you felt… sad, somehow. He would have to release you at some point, but you were in such a submissive state, just the idea of him leaving you without his guiding hand was too much to bear.

Your cries turned to a twisted kind of grief, and when he heard your tone change, he dropped to the floor with you, holding you to his chest, rocking you back and forth, shushing you and talking to you in a hushed voice,

“Shh, baby. Tell me to stop. Tell me…”

You grasped at him wildly, uncontrolled, holding onto whatever part of him you could, shaking your head,

“No, no. Don’t — don’t let me go. Please, I can’t… I need… I need you to touch me.”

You planted one of your hands across his, covering the one that gripped your neck, pressing it like a plaster, like it was keeping a wound healed, like it was a dam in front of your frothing, vengeful river; it was a lifeline and you were adrift.

“Sweetheart,” he sighed, “I’m not gonna let you go. I’m right here. Shh. Shh. It’s alright. I’m here. C’mon. Come with me.”

He lifted you, helping you walk on sore, shaking legs, your nerves sparking across your skin. Then, with his hand still firmly planted against your neck, he led you like a shepherd with his lamb, marching you to his bedroom. As you approached the bedframe, your thighs hit the mattress, and Price guided you forward until your body lay flat against it. The duvet was cool and smooth against your belly and breasts, and you tucked your arms into yourself, looking for warmth.

You felt John plant gentle kisses across your back, trailing them down your spine, and after the overstimulation you had just gone through, even his lightest touch was electric.

Your tears had stopped, but still you panted, sniffling, trembling from the shock of his careful kisses, waiting for whatever would come next.

You felt his hips press against your exposed ass cheeks, his shorts now missing, and all you could sense was his warm, furry skin. You sighed into it, happy for the connection.

“Spread your legs,” he commanded.

You complied immediately, all of your tortured resistance gone from you now, ready to trust him to take care of you.

The unknown was what made your belly swarm with butterflies, and as you waited for his next move, your mind raced with possibilities.

Would he be cruel? Would he punish you for your lying when he had first taken you in? His hand might strike your tender flesh, slapping your ass and leaving red, angry marks.

Would he be lustful? Your mind fed you imaginary moments where he would press his cock into your pussy, skipping any foreplay, simply using you like his warm, wet toy. You thought that he wanted more, something more intimate, but if not, you would let him. You were his to use. At this point, you were so pliant, so open to his will, he could use you over and over and you would take him. It was a dark confidence you had never known until now.

Perhaps he would simply stop. Maybe he perceived you as weak, as if you couldn’t take what he wanted to give you. He would simply comfort you, pitying you for your wrecked state. It was this thought that turned your stomach. Surely, he knew you better than that. John Price was not the pitying type.

As the base of his cock lay nestled in the cleft of your ass, still as hard as a stone, his long shaft was shoved up against his lower abdomen, pulsing with unslaked desire. Then, as he settled himself, pleased with your spread display, John began to slip the very tips of his fingers into your pussy. He was just feeling your softness, plucking at your petals, laying them open with his hand, using your own wetness to paint your lips and the tight muscle of your hole, preparing you for more.

His voice broke the trance that his touch had put you in,

“It kills me when I have watch you putting yourself through hell. You are so strong, but you deserve to have everything you want. Everything you need, I’ll make sure you have it. I promise.”

He was so sincere, and his voice sounded so sure. It was like he was sharing an old memory, something he knew by heart.

“John, please…” You whispered, feeling yourself slipping, slowly becoming untangled by his touch. You needed more, but you had no words. You could barely concentrate, and your mind was swimming in a liminal space, trapped in a loop of mounting bliss.

“What do you need, sweetheart? Tell me.”

“I don’t know,” you felt your tears return, and although you were desperate for something, you couldn’t find the answer.

“Shh, shh, shh. You’re alright,” John rubbed your back with his free hand, smoothing your skin with his warm touch, “Does my pretty girl need to come?”

You nodded, daring to glance over your shoulder at him as he worked on you, his finger now sinking deeper into you, gently prodding your walls in long, aching circles. His other fingers were cradling your folds, slipping between them with each undulating thrust, brushing beside the swelling body of your clit and making you throb with need.

He felt it, and you saw a warm smile spread across his face,

“I can feel you needin’ me. So wet for me. Fightin’ me so bloody hard. Thought I’d be wantin’ you forever. Do you know how many nights I’ve dreamed of havin’ you under me like this? Fuck, I need you so badly, baby.”

You felt his grip tighten on your neck again as he pressed you deeper into the soft mattress, his prying hand picking up the pace. His thick finger finally slipped down to the knuckle of his fist. As he fucked you on his hand, you could hear your body’s slick as it softened for him, submitting to his power just as you had done, your body at peace with your mind.

He pressed a second finger beside his first, twisting them together, curling the tips to rub you from the inside, making you feel the deep ache of your orgasm building within your belly.

You tried to find more friction, rocking your hips against the bed, squeezing your legs together, needing more but completely helpless to his pace and pressure.

Price stopped, pushing his fingers right into the tender flesh of your neck as a warning,

“Open,” he shoved your foot away, spreading them for you, “You keep fighting and fighting… fine. I’ll give you something to fight for, hm?”

You tried to twist your knees together again, but his legs stood apart, holding you open. Then, you felt his threat. He put the head of his heavy prick against your greedy hole, dipping it into your wetness like a seal into warm, melting wax.

“C’mon,” he squeezed your nape hard, once, just enough to get your attention, “You wanna drive? Fuckin’ drive, love. You think you can fuck yourself better than I can fuck you? Prove it.”

You narrowed your eyes, glaring at him, watching the muscles ripple and pop in his forearm that held you down, unwilling to give you full control, and yet allowing you to set the pace. You saw his other hand rub the curve of your hip, dropping lower to grope your ass, egging you on.

Unwilling to beg, you thrust yourself down onto his shaft, gasping from his girth, only managing to fit half of him inside of you, physically unable to go any deeper on your own. But, you tried again, lifting away, sinking back, repeating your movements and reaching between your legs to rub your clit as you fucked him.

But, it wasn’t enough. You felt so close to the edge, and yet you couldn’t tumble over it, losing your rhythm, chasing it down, too weak to reach the peak you knew was right within your grasp.

You grunted in frustration, and his cruel laugh made you turn back towards him again.

He shrugged,

“I thought you wanted to be in charge. Does it feel good, sweetheart?”

“Fuck!” You gasped, trying to catch your pleasure and feeling it slip from you yet again, humping your hips against the bed shameless and desperate.

“Tch,” Price gripped the inside of your ass cheek, shaking it and rolling your soft flesh in his hand, “Too bad, love. I wanted to give it to you. Shame, really.”

“John! Please,” you caved, sobbing out a short moan, begging him impatiently.

“Please, what?” His question came just as he decided to press himself deeper into your body than you had been able to go, sinking into you like a hand into a glove, a tight, all-encompassing fit.

You whined, rolling your fingers over your clit faster, feverish, ready for relief,

“Please make me come.”

“You will come…” He stretched you, giving you no warning, the sharp feeling of his invasion making you catch your breath, “When I bloody tell you to.”

Then, as if to prove it to you, he stuffed his length into your pussy, never pulling back very far, choosing instead to massage you with his cock, using his base to stretch you wide before rolling away. The sensation overwhelmed you, and his size made your mind go blank. Any words that formed in your mind turned to whining cries of pleasure on your tongue.

There were no sounds of lewd pounding of flesh on flesh. All of Price’s work was deep and wet, churning inside of you like a volcanic sea, hot and untamed. He, however, made plenty of noise, praising you in every way he knew how, speaking in half-clipped phrases, losing his sentence to a groan of relief as he fed himself to you, filling your pussy like a hungry mouth.

You felt yourself getting closer by the moment. Each grinding thrust was pushing you ever nearer to that gleaming, crackling fuse. He had lifted you, unintentionally, unable to understand the effect of his strength, and your toes could barely scrape the floor. You could feel your sacral core clenching around him like a delicate vice, grabbing for his cock, trying to hold him within your belly, some twisting grip of nature used to ensure that his creamy come ended up where it belonged, soaking into your womb.

Your clenching made him pause, which, in turn, caused you to cry out to him, wordlessly babbling, begging for him to return, to keep his pace.

“Don’t you dare, sweetheart. Don’t you dare come,” his voice was like rattling brimstone, smoky and burning within his throat.

“Please…” You whispered, unable to lift your raspy, keening voice.

With shallow, teasing thrusts, Price used his cockhead to softly pop in and out of your soaked hole, swollen from being well-fucked. Just hearing a vibrator would have sent you over the edge at that point, and you fought him, trying to get any sort of power at all, rolling your body like a caught snake.

“Stop,” he said curtly, “Stop fighting. Be still.”

You quieted yourself down, breathing heavy, sweating into his sheets, shivering like you had a fever, burning up from the inside out.

For the first time, you felt his hand leave your neck, and his fingers twisted themselves into your hair at the base of your skull. Slowly, carefully, he lifted you by your head, forcing your back into a vicious arch, letting your breasts hang freely, your arms trying to balance you, mostly worthless since Price had full control of your torso in this position.

His free hand slid around your front, groping you wildly, plucking your nipples and filling his palms with the meat of your breast. Then, he replaced your fingers with his own, pressing beside your sensitive clit, rolling it softly in long, firm strokes.

You heard yourself make a new sound, one you’d never made, an animal’s grunting, something reckless and feral.

Then, Price took up his stretching rhythm again, fully in charge of everything you were sensing. To you, he may as well have been in control of your mind. It was no use to you; you were at his mercy and it was everything you’d ever wanted.

“Do you trust me?”

Your thoughts swam, unable to even consider anything but the truth, and amongst all of your vocalized ecstasy, you managed to reply,

“Yes.”

“Don’t come. Keep it. Just like that.”

“J-John!”

“Wait, wait, wait… good girl. Good.”

��Ohhh, fuck…”

His next words seemed barely human, snarled at you through bared teeth,

“Now. Come for me. Come f— fuck! Holy fuck.”

When you felt him spill into you, you had almost no control left over your own orgasm. Your heart felt like it had leapt into your throat, and all you could experience was your shining, explosive finish. You heard no sound, and your eyes went white, rolling back into your head. You couldn’t breathe, or scream, and if it wasn’t for John’s immense body holding you tight, you would have crashed into his bed, all used up.

His orgasm was as long as yours was, and he finished in slow, fearsome thrusts, burying his head into you as deep as he could reach, smearing your lips with your mixed fluids, caring nothing for the mess.

“C’mere, love. Come to me,” Price held you to his chest, finally pulling himself from you, holding you as close as he could, laying beside you in a sweaty, spent tangle of arms and legs.

You lay your head on his chest, catching your breath, only to tumble into a dreamless sleep with him, your body exhausted from your effort.

When you woke up the next day, you could feel him all over you. He had left you alone in the bed, and yet your skin and bones kept his imprints. You could feel the ghost of his fingertips on your neck, and you were sore in places you weren’t sure how you could be. Everything was a wet mess, and just when you worried about how you’d cross the apartment without yesterday’s outfit, you saw that John had left you a note.

Training day on base. I'll be back tonight. Dinner on me. Wear this. xx

Under the note, Price had laid out his favorite dress of yours, a blue satin slip of a thing, and (with the tags still on) you found a matching lace set of bra and panties in the same pretty color, just your size. You couldn’t see the price, but when you searched for the brand online, you couldn’t help but blush. He'd spent more than just a pretty penny on this outfit. You couldn't help but notice that the delicate lace would show through the thin fabric of the dress, making little raised ridges where your nipples would be.

Whatever you’d just agreed to when you said you’d let John Price into your life was about to get very, very interesting.

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#call of duty fanfic #captain john price #john price #call of duty #captain price #captain price x you #john price smut #john price x female reader #x female reader #x fem!reader #john price x reader #captain johnathan price #and they were roommates au

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 9 months

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Chapter 14

Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore; minor discussion of cold symptoms; allusions to prior CA; allusions to prior SA; sexual themes; thoughts of suicide.

When Daryl woke, his head wasn’t pulsing as it had been before he’d given in to rest he so desperately needed. The symptoms were still present but improved. If he wasn’t still so tired, he might have engaged in a bit of self-loathing. How could he let himself get so run down? He had people to protect. He had you to protect.

Drawing in a deep breath, he managed not to cough even when he felt the tickle at the back of his throat. He groaned at the effort of opening his eyes, the pale light on the top of the walls coming from the moon. He had slept all day. Shit. Nothing could be done now, other than maybe offering to take watch from whoever was on duty.

His tired gaze slid back down, stopping abruptly when he found your arm on the mattress, your hand resting on his. He was careful when raising his head to get a look at you. You were curled on your side, head pillowed on your other arm. Had you left him at all?

He watched you sleep until his neck protested the awkward angle and he let his cheek rest against the pillow. Would he be able to slip his hand from underneath yours without waking you? Should he put you on the mattress before he left for the watchtower? Why was everything about his companionship with you a fucking guessing game?

Daryl laid there quite a bit longer, actually trying to go back to sleep, but several things stood in the way of that. He was on the mattress with a pillow and a blanket while you slept on top of the thin sleeping bag on the floor. He was accustomed to sleeping on hard surfaces. He grew up with punishments like being locked in the bathroom for two days, forced to sleep in the grimy tub. When he had taken to the woods at such a young age, the forest floor became his bed.

The more he thought about that, it eventually brought him around to the place from which he had rescued you. You likely had no bed either. The sleeping bag was probably an upgrade from that situation.

Then there was your smaller hand on his. His thoughts were taking a swan dive right into the gutter. He tried to focus on the simplicity of it. You either wanted to comfort him while he was under the weather or you needed the comfort yourself.

Regardless of his efforts, he always ended up imagining pulling you onto the mattress and burying his face between your legs; how you would whimper and whine for more friction but he’d take his time to taste every inch of your pussy. He’d show you how intimacy was supposed to feel. Not pain or fear. He wanted to show you soft touches with heated fingers, whispered reassurances, connecting with someone on a level that would leave you feeling safe and wanted.

He wished like hell he could show you all of that because it was what he needed too.

Your fingers carding through his hair while he slowly rolled his hips into you. Your soft lips on his collarbone, painting a wet, burning trail down to his cock. Your nails gliding up and down his spine while you held him against you afterwards. Your touches would be without judgment when you’d feel the ridges of a scar. You’d kiss each one of them and he’d let you.

When he felt his eyes sting, he turned his face into the pillow. He had to get away from you. He was too deep into the habit of running from feelings triggered by things he could never have. He’d been doing it for as long as he could remember. It kept him safe, kept whatever shriveled mess of a heart he had protected from further damage.

He’d been keeping his distance when he wasn’t training you. He’d wander the fences or skulk out into the woods. And when the desire for you became too strong, he would go into the showers and allow himself to have you in his mind before taking each scene he played out and locking it up tight.

It was when he’d realized that he wanted more from you than your body that he became really ill at ease. He wanted you, as a whole. He wanted to be the one to give back what those cowards had stolen from you. He wanted to see you smile and laugh while knowing he helped bring you there. As much as he wanted it, he was a coward in a different sense. He had nothing to offer you. He was broken beyond repair, too afraid he’d use your fragmented pieces to only patch himself up while leaving you shattered. You deserved so much more than what he could ever hope to give you.

Your fingers twitched against his hand, forcing his self-deprecating thoughts onto the back burner. He rubbed his face against the pillow, afraid of any tears that might have managed to escape. That’d be all you needed. He finally faced you to find you peeking over the edge of the mattress. You were silently blinking at him until you knew he was awake, then you sat up with a smile.

God, he wanted to hear you talk again.

“Hey.” Daryl whispered, voice still rough from the cold he’d brought on himself. You tilted your head and gave him a small wave that took your hand away from him. He found it alarming how much he missed it so quickly.

When you touched him again, it was your palm to his forehead. He knew he was still slightly feverish, could feel it in the slight ache in his joints and the lingering fatigue. The way your mouth turned down just confirmed what he already knew.

“S’jus’ a cold. M’fine.” He waited until you lowered your hand to sit up. He really was okay, aside from feeling like shit. He’d definitely felt worse before and wouldn’t be made an invalid by a silly head cold. “M’ gon’ see if I can help on watch.” Daryl began to slide down the mattress to grab his boots, brought to a stop by your hand on his bicep. You were already shaking your head before he even looked at you. “Told ya m’fine.” His body chose then to betray him with a barking cough. Your frown deepened.

You were a persistent little thing, weren’t you? He watched with something akin to amusement, unable to find a single trace of annoyance, while you crawled onto the mattress and sat back on your knees. You brought your other hand to join the first, tugging lightly but incessantly.

The way you looked at him, big doe eyes shining in the pale light, actually kindled a feeling of guilt at wanting to leave. You shook your head again, appearing frustrated with yourself. It must have felt horrible to be unable to speak. With the way you mouthed the words, it was obvious you were trying. Daryl wished again that he had reached you sooner, that he could have stopped those bastards from touching you. He just couldn’t understand how all of this wasn’t his fault.

You shuffled on your knees to sit next to him, pressing your palm to his forehead, then his chest, and shaking your head. He didn’t need to hear the next word you mouthed to know what it was.

“Please.”

If you wanted him to stay that badly— to rest, he supposed —then he couldn’t deny you. He owed you that much.

“Alrigh’, m’a stay.” You beamed at him, resulting in a fluttering feeling in his stomach that he wasn’t sure he’d ever felt before. It wasn’t exactly unpleasant. When he realized he was staring, he quickly looked away, somewhere over your shoulder.

You bounced on your knees for a moment and then crawled back toward the edge of the mattress, both actions nearly making the archer groan. He bit the inside of his cheek until the metallic taste of blood coated the side of his tongue. He felt like some horny teenager.

Luckily for him, you spared him from yet another self bashing by flopping onto the sleeping bag. You appeared settled and content but Daryl still wasn’t having it.

“Nuh-uh. If m’gonna stay, ya gotta take the bed.” You sat up, brow drawing inward into what he assumed was your attempt at intimidation. If he wasn't serious about getting you to take the mattress, he might have chuckled. “No arguin’, woman. Take the damn bed.”

You shook your head and crossed your arms for added effect, only making you that much more adorable. A slender finger pointed at him sharply before you made a fist and coughed into it.

“I’ll live. Don’ need no mother hen.” He grumbled. He was two seconds away from scooping you up and depositing you on the mattress himself. Your easily triggered fear was the only thing giving him pause. When you still refused to budge, he made to get up. “Fine. Goin’ ta take watch.”

This time, when you caught his wrist, your bottom lip was out and there was no resisting the half smile that ticked onto his face, albeit briefly. You scowled at him then, sitting back on your heels and tapping your chin. Your finger stilled as your eyes narrowed, staring pointedly at the pillow. Your expression was troubled.

Daryl’s amusement faded. “Hey, wha’s wrong?” He asked quietly. Showing so much concern for someone outside of walker attacks and crazy men with undead battle royales was so new to him. He had never been a comforter. A protector in recent months, sure, but never a comforter. He just didn’t have that quality about him. Yet you continued to pull at threads he didn’t even know were sewn into him.

You shook your head slowly, remaining still for another moment, but then you were moving. Your face was set in a determination Daryl had yet to see from you, leaving him curious. You slid the pillow over and then the blanket before grabbing the edge of the sleeping bag and dragging it up onto the— Shit.

By the time his brain caught up, you were already pointing at him then to the pillow then yourself and to the sleeping bag.

“Ya wan’ us both ta sleep on the bed?”

You nodded, still looking more determined than made sense.

“Nah. No.” There was absolutely no way. He and Carol had shared sleeping areas before but that was Carol, his best friend. He had never used thoughts of her to pleasure himself. Until you, it was an automatic thing. Stress relief, chasing the high, before and the two times after the turn. He didn’t need to imagine anyone. Now, it was always you. “Not a good idea.”

You tilted your head, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth. You wanted to say something, it was obvious. He could take a stab in the dark as to what it was.

“I know that yer offerin’ somethin’ tha’s hard fer ya n’ I ‘preciate it. Ain’t a good idea.” He hadn’t realized he was rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip until he bit down on the skin. “Think I should jus’ go n’ take watch.” His voice strained on the last word and he coughed. Still, he tried again to get up, only this time, your arms wrapped around him from behind with your cheek pressed between his shoulder blades.

Ah, fuck.

You were trembling. He thought, at first, that it was because you were getting more and more upset. That was probably at least part of it. But then, the most surprising thing.

“Please…stay.”

Daryl inhaled sharply. Your voice was so rough from disuse, the energy it took for you to force out the words must have been draining. You slumped against his back but your grip on the front of his vest held true. You’d finally spoken. And it was for him. Rough or not, it was like a soothing balm straight to his soul.

He loosened your fingers with a tenderness he didn’t know he possessed and twisted to get a look at you. Your eyes held a tired resignation. This was your final attempt before you’d give up and he didn’t have the heart to deny you.

“Okay.”

You didn’t smile this time, only giving the smallest dip of your chin in a nod. The archer’s insides were twisting and flipping with emotions he didn’t know how to handle, but he crawled past you pushed the pillow over to the sleeping bag. You didn’t argue. Then he gripped the blanket and moved it further, nearly to the very edge of the small mattress. You’d both have to lie on your sides to fit and it would be much closer than he was comfortable with, but he continued regardless, his mind moving too fast to be able to focus on the anxiety.

You had already laid down before he finally took his spot, thankful that it was close to the wall and he could press himself back a little further. Why he laid down to face you was anyone’s guess. He made a valiant attempt to avoid your gaze until your palm pressed against his forehead again. Why didn’t he flinch away from you? He despised being touched. Nothing made sense. His eyes met yours despite his reluctance, and he could see the relief pooling there. You had been so worried over a cold.

Maybe it was because he’d taken care of you while you recovered. Maybe it was because you wanted to show kindness to prove it hadn’t been taken from you with everything else. Maybe it was because—

He shut the thoughts down, sealed them up tight. Your fingers brushed across his forehead and swept back the fringe that always fell over his face. Maybe he should cut his hair so you wouldn’t feel the need to do that. You drew back your hand and pressed it against your chest, your eyes trying hard to close when you were obviously fighting against it. He turned over, away from you. It felt like his only option, both to ensure you’d sleep and to keep himself in check.

He must have exerted more energy than he’d realized because it was mere moments later when the thoughts ceased and he knew nothing more.

You watched silently as his breaths deepened and evened out. The congestion from the cold gave each breath a wet, smothered sound but he was okay. Truthfully, he wasn’t even very warm. A low grade fever at best but he needed to stay in bed to get over the mild illness. If he pushed himself, you knew it would last longer, maybe even worsen. You couldn’t help but be reminded of being so sick because you were forced to work when you hadn’t felt well. Then you were tossed inside your cage with a pack of several cough suppressants. You had been so close to taking them all and hoping it did you in. Now, you were glad you didn’t.

You would have never met Daryl.

That alone, his friendship, almost made all you’d been through worth all the ugliness. He was enough to encourage you to pull your voice from the confines of your mind and force it over your tongue. It had been both a physical and mental battle and a tremendous effort.

You didn’t remember much before your time under Big Jazz. It was like everything human had been beaten out of you, taken away and placed under lock and key, the latter held by each man that put their hands on you for their own pleasure. Little by little, you were reclaiming those pieces of yourself. You could remember men from before, the ones that broke your heart in a much more humane but still painful way. Normal relationships.

Not one of them looked at you like Daryl did.

The archer hid behind a mask of indifference, but you could see past that, having been the victim of men who were truly complacent to the hurt they caused. Daryl was different. He didn’t want to hurt anyone. There was always a hint of remorse if he raised his voice. Now, he even made the effort to walk away and gather himself before coming back to make it right. He only sometimes apologized verbally, that just wasn’t his nature. But he didn’t need to. His eyes gave him away.

Regardless of the hesitance you still felt toward everyone, it was improving. Even with that gnawing anxiety, you felt drawn to the archer. And when he was close enough, there was a stillness in your soul that you could get lost in. You found you wanted to and that was daunting.

Now that the two of you were settled, you no longer felt tired. You wanted to watch over him, make sure he rested adequately. You wondered if you should go get him some soup and tea like you had planned.

“Daryl?” Carol’s voice carried up the stairs. There was a moment of silence and then the sound of boots on metal. You sat up, your eyes on Daryl, who had yet to stir. He must feel awful if he wasn’t responding to outside stimuli. Once you saw the silver hair, you put your finger to your lips. Carol stopped just shy of the top step when she saw you, her gaze sliding over to the archer and then back to you. A cheeky grin lit up her face.

You pursed your lips in distaste. “No.” You whispered, finding the word harder to say in Carol’s presence. “Sick.” You took a deep breath, calming your suddenly frazzled nerves. The situation between you and Carol was still tense, but you could feel the slight shift, something just naturally healing itself. Maybe it was because you subconsciously knew what happened to you was out of her control.

“Sick? What do you mean sick?” Carol took another step, looking panicked. You held up a hand, absently placing the other on Daryl’s back as if the gesture would coax him into staying asleep. He did. The other woman froze, staring wide-eyed at your hand and a knowing smile replaced the previous grin.

Your hand swiftly retracted. “Cold.” You coughed, verbally communicating felt like it was literally dusting off your vocal cords. “Broth? Tea?”

“I’ll bring you both some. It sounds like you could use it.” She turned and took a step but stopped to look over her shoulder. “It’s nice to hear you talking.” There was a slight jerk as if she started to move and forced herself to wait. “Y/N, I’m really sorry. For what happened to you. I know I… I let you down and—”

“Okay.” You whispered, smiling gently. It was still difficult to believe her words. After all, you clung to them when you first arrived and they shattered in your hands. You tried for a reassuring smile, apparently coming close enough that she returned one and called ‘be right back’ from her descent.

Daryl coughed beside you but didn’t wake. It seemed a shame to wake him for food but he didn’t eat at all the day before. You didn’t know much about caring for a sick person but it was a given that the body needed energy and energy came from nutrition. Maybe it would take Carol a while to find some and the archer could sleep a little longer. He’d slept so much but he must have needed it to not wake as easily as he usually did.

You ended up lying back down beside him and watching him sleep. Watching over him like he had watched over you.

Carol didn’t take long to return. She had found a can of chicken noodle soup, and it wasn’t even expired! She thought anyway. Who knew what the date was anymore? The tea was actually an easier find. Apparently everyone wanted coffee but tea was in abundance. Peppermint tea with as much sugar as could be spared. Bowls and mugs were steaming when she arrived with them. They needed to cool a bit and that gave you time to rouse Daryl slowly.

Or so you thought.

When you shook his shoulder, he bolted up and pressed himself against the wall, grasping for his knife on his thigh, appearing even more feral when he realized it wasn’t there.

“Daryl.” You whispered, both to calm him and because your throat ached. His eyes were glassy and unfocused, not quite awake. You reached for him, palm up, but didn’t touch him. “Safe.”

The shift from panic to confusion to realization was gradual but you waited him out. You knew what nightmares could do, how they could leave you feeling lost from reality in those first few moments if you wake suddenly. You hadn’t realized he’d been dreaming at all, he was so still.

He finally eased down onto his knees, chest still heaving. To your surprise, he hesitantly placed his palm on top of yours for only a second before pulling it back and falling over onto his ass, his back against the wall.

“M’sorry.” He rasped, wiping at his face tiredly. The rough breaths turned into a cough and then a sniff. He didn’t appear to be crying so that one could be chalked up to a runny nose.

“Tea.” You carefully lifted one of the cups and offered it. He accepted with little reluctance, staring into it blankly.

“Yer still takin’.” He croaked, wincing before taking a sip. You hoped it had cooled enough. You received your answer when he hummed appreciatively.

“Yeah.” You took a sip of your own, sighing in relief at the gentle, soothing burn.

“Thought I dreamt it.” He was watching you over the rim of the mug as he tilted it to his lips.

“Dream of me?” You teased, feeling bad when he sputtered and spit back into the cup. Still, you chuckled. “Sorry.”

“S’fine.”

You couldn’t help but notice he didn’t answer. Your stomach fluttered pleasantly, a feeling you remembered from the before. It was both terrifying and relieving. You sat your tea back on the tray and held your hand out for his. The archer took one last sip and relinquished the mug. You traded it for a bowl, giggling when he tried to sniff it but his nose was too stuffy, making him scowl.

“Eat.” You urged, lifting the spoon to your lips. Studying your soup, you could remember your mother making it for you when you were young. Mixing it with water and cooking it until it was all you could smell. You weren’t a fan of the obviously processed meat but the broth was always just what you needed if you were feeling poorly.

You lifted the spoon to your mouth, distracted by a slurping across from you. Your eyes lifted to gaze from beneath your lashes. Daryl had placed the spoon on his lap and was simply drinking the soup from the edge of the bowl. The childlike mannerism had you giggling all over again. You couldn’t remember the last time you had smiled so often. It made your cheeks hurt.

Daryl went still. He lowered the bowl, his face red, his eyes lowered. Had you embarrassed him? It wasn’t something that bothered you. You found it endearing. Yet, you didn’t know how to voice that without shaming him further. So, you did the next most logical thing.

Blue eyes flitted up when you tapped the spoon against the edge of the bowl and then placed the utensil on your lap. Reaching for his bowl, you rested your palm below his hand and pushed for him to lift it. He obliged with a confused frown but then you were taking back your hand and lifting your own bowl, drinking the broth from the edge. You made no noise, where he slurped at his own loudly. The red hue of his cheeks was fading but he wouldn’t look at you.

That was okay because, that way, he didn’t see you smiling from behind your bowl.

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celticcrossanon · 4 months

Text

BRF Reading - 15th of May, 2024

This is speculation only

Cards drawn on the 15th of May, 2024

Question: Are Meghan and Harry actively trying to kill The King?

As I was shuffling the cards for this reading, two cards flew out. I was going to draw one card for Meghan, one for Harry, and one for them as a couple, plus the underlying energy, but those two cards told me everything I needed to know.

This is a two card reading

Warning: This reading contains some of the ugliest energy I have ever encountered in all my years of tarot reading. Please prepare yourself before you read it and do not read it if you are feeling at all upset/despondent/shaky/insecure etc. You need to be protected by God/Jesus/the angels/the universe/whomever you call upon to protect you before you read this reading.

Answer: Yes

Card One: The Three of Swords

This is the card that flew out of my deck as I was shuffling. One look and I had my answer.

The Three of Swords is a card of grief, heartbreak, despair. It shows King Agamemnon being killed in his bath by his wife Clytemnestra and her lover.

Clytemnestra brooded over past injuries done to her by the King until she decided to kill him. In this card she represents Harry, with his belief that the BRF has ''victimised' him (e.g. by taking away his military honours).

Her lover, Aegisthus, believed his family has been betrayed by the father of Agamemnon and had been conceived to take revenge on the family. He represents Meghan, with her belief that the BRF has hurt her (eg no one asked me if I was Ok, no one cared about my mental health, they are racist and all her other lies) and her desire for vengeance on them.

The picture shows the death of the rightful King by Clytemnestra and her lover. I am taking this as the death of The King at the hands of Harry and Meghan, in answer to my question. Harry and Meghan want to kill The King. They want to inflict the grief and heartbreak and despair of his death on the BRF.

Card Two: The Eight of Swords in reverse

The energy of this card is of stress. The reverse position has intensified the upright energy (as it sometimes does) instead of reversing the meaning of it. It also adds a delayed time element to the energy.

Harry and Meghan want to use stress to kill The King. They wants him to feel trapped, hemmed in, unable to move or escape, especially mentally. This card can represent someone who is trapped/paralysed by their thoughts and who feels helpless, and that is the energy of the card - what Meghan and Harry want to invoke in The King.

There is a very strong relentless energy to this card - Meghan and Harry will not give up until The King either a) abdicates in their favour (yes, I know that is not possible, but we are dealing with two delusional people here) or b) drops dead from stress - stroke, heart attack, cancer, they do not care.

There is a vicious energy to this card that lashes out repeatedly until the desired object is achieved - an energy I can only describe as stabbing, over and over again, until the person is dead. There is a chant going through my mind of 'stab stab stab kill kill kill' as I type this. The 'stabs' are emotional and stress wounds.

These two cards tell me that Meghan and Harry have planned to kill The King and they will not stop until it is accomplished - and then they will turn their attention to Prince William.

This is truly ugly energy - vicious, self-centred, and laser focused on their desires with no thought of anyone else.

Because it is so ugly I asked for a third card as confirmation, just to make sure I am on the right track about this, as it is a horrible thing to say about anyone.

Confirmation Card: King of Cups in reverse

The King of Cups is the card for Scorpio, and as such it represents King Charles, who is a sun sign Scorpio. In the reverse, it shows King Charles in decline, weakened, not strong and happy (that would be the card upright). The card represents King Charles in his role as a person, father/husband/uncle etc, and not in his role as King. To have it in reverse as a confirmation card is a definite yes. Harry and Meghan want The King to die and they are actively trying to bring this about.

Just in case there is any doubt, the card after this was The Seven of Swords.

The Seven of Swords - deceit, trickery, lies, scheming - with the pictures showing Orestes creeping into the city/palace to kill his mother for murdering his father. The card showing a son in the act of murdering a parent and the meaning of the card - thief, lies, deceit, scheming - confirm the message above and add to it - Harry and Meghan are trying to kill The King so they can steal what is his for themselves.

Notice that all the suit cards I am pulling are Swords - the suit of thoughts, plans, and strategies. Another confirmation. There is no emotion involved here (that would be Cups) - just a cold and merciless desire to remove someone who stands in the way of their plans.

This is revolting energy and I am going to stop now.

A note of hope - just because Harry and Meghan are actively trying to do this, there is no guarantee that they will succeed, especially if we pray for The King and for Prince William and his family and/or we send them protective energy. St Michael the Archangel is a good angel to ask to protect them if anyone is so inclined.

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klausysworld · 1 year

Note

Are request still open and if they are can you make a Klaus Mikaelson one shot the girl is Tyler Lockwood sister and she hates Klaus so she rejects him as her mate but at the end she accepts him so like fluff at the end

What are you doing to me?

Finding out your mated to the all powerful original hybrid who ruined your brothers like and forced him to become half vampire while also terrorising your childhood friends and what not isn’t exactly at the top of my bucket list.

Him being a willing participant when it came to the whole ‘soulmate’ arrangement was also not meant to be in the cards.

When I realised we were mates I was 99% sure he would immediately reject me as a mate. As strong as a soulmate makes you, it will also always be your greatest weakness. I would be able to kill him far easier than anyone else and I was certain he would want to kill me first.

So him leaving me expensive gifts was…unexpected to say the least.

Detailed drawings of wolves and the full moon in the sky with a poem hand written on the back had my heart fluttering in ways that I should not have enjoyed.

But he had destroyed my brothers and the people I consider my family’s lives.

And so, despite the utter agony I was inflicting on both him and myself, I rejected him as my mate.

It’s a rare thing for wolves to reject their one, the side affects are awful in a way to force your mind into reconsidering.

The crippling pain was emotionally tormenting and physically exhausting. After the initial rejection I was barely able to leave my bed, eat, drink, I barely spoke a word and each time I fell asleep I was haunted by a similar image of Klaus.

Damon had messaged me letting me know Klaus had been out of sight for nearly 3 weeks after.

The pain lingered, never truly gone but it had dimmed. Though a sharp pain would shoot through me when he was too close, when the bond knew I was purposely ignoring him, and i could always see him wince at the same time.

The few times I didn’t shove him away, well I felt much better. He brought peace to my wolfs inner battle between soulmate and family because in reality I knew that he was both. I was just too afraid to admit it fully.

Though I couldn’t help but occasionally step a tad bit closer to him, to feel the warm buzz that ran through my bloodstream.

He was a lot less subtle though.

Often, as soon as his wolf sensed mine approaching he was all over me. Hands would be rubbing up and down my arms, his lips on my neck in a desperate instinctual need to mark me. And what was worse was that my wolf was all the more compliant and for a few wonderful seconds I could indulge in the blissful sensations. My head back, hands firmly gripping his henley and moans leaving my lips, my wolf having the desire to present myself in a truly embarrassing fashion.

Though he would always push it a tad too far, a grope to my ass, his canines about to pierce my skin, and I would be pushing him away. My wolf panting as I nearly tripped over my own two feet to get away from him while ignoring the intense feeling of my heart being squeezed unpleasantly.

I always managed to just scrape past him.

Suffering alone in my room again at the recurring torture of rejecting a mate.

His continued flow of presents didn’t help either, only made me feel worse seeing effort put into paintings of me and my wolf. He hadn’t turned into a hybrid, not yet at least, he probably knew that would be my last straw and id maim him.

But I knew he had followed my wolf on the full moons, I always woke with brand new clothes beside me, lead on a cotton blanket with a pillow under head and the snapping of twigs in the distance as he walked away.

And even though I should have said absolutely not when he personally delivered an invitation to his family’s ball, with those stupid puppy dog eyes, I couldn’t bring myself to.

“Please love, just one dance and if you don’t like it…then I’ll leave you be and accept your decision” as soon as the words left his mouth, both our souls twisted in agony making my teeth grind.

“Fine, just one” I whispered and he nodded, pulling me into a quick hug to calm down both our pain. Which it did like water on a fire, entirely putting out the flames and leaving us calm and quiet.

And then the dress arrived at my door, with matching shoes and accessories and I realised I actually had to do this.

Walking into his house sent a chill down my spine, my body felt much warmer and my wolf was howling inside me.

A hand on my shoulder had me whimpering softly making an arm wrap around my waist and pull me aside to another room.

“Shh love, we don’t want the rest of the guests hearing such lovely sounds” klaus murmured into my ear and I pressed against him, a small moan leaving my lips.

“This is too much for you isn’t it my love?” He whispered, his hand tilting my head making me look up at him.

The entire house smelt like him, I had seen parts of it in the dreams of him when he was suffering from my rejection. Which now intensified my guilt, my emotions were running haywire. I was in his home; I was in the wolf’s den.

Without thinking my hands tugged at his blazer, pushing it down his arms before my fingers began to pull his shirt open

“Woah love, it’s alright” he muttered, his hands grabbed mine and before I could blink we were outside. The cold air cooled down my boiling skin as I panted and he stroked my hair away from my face

“There we go, it’s okay” he cooed, the back of his hand pressing against my forehead.

“I hate this stupid bond” I whispered, covering my face.

“I know love…we can have our dance another time, I’ll take you home” he uttered, his tone was sad and my heart ached again.

“Stop it” I whispered “please stop it”

“Stop what love? What’s wrong?”

“Make it stop fucking hurting! I rejected you weeks, months ago! Why does it still hurt!? What are you doing to me?” I whispered, tears filling my eyes and spilling over. I looked up at him to see him in a similar state though no tears had fallen from his eyes yet.

His hand moved to cup my face and I couldn’t help but lean into it.

“It will only stop hurting us when you truly reject me. Somewhere, inside you, you still haven’t truly given up on the idea. You either have to reject the bond once and for all or accept me” he explained softly

“I would’ve been able to reject you if you left me alone. You kept sending all those things and being so kind, you did this to me” I whimpered

“I wouldn’t have done that if I couldn’t feel your soul still reaching for mine” he uttered “I would never intentionally harm you”

I let out a quiet sob as my soul pleaded for his.

I leaned forward so my head could press against his chest, my eyes closing at the content feeling that rose in me. I could feel myself giving into the bond, our souls slowly binding together. His hand held the back of my head, I could hear his heart speeding up as mine mimicked it.

His other hand moved around my waist, pulling me to him. “Good girl” he whispered “you’ll feel so much better now” he reassured “I promise I’ll make it better now sweetheart”

He kissed my head softly, his hand rubbing my back “let the bond form my love” he encouraged.

I focused on the connection trying to relight the candle.

I could feel the second it happened, my knees growing too weak to stand making him chuckle quietly and wrap both arms around me. He lifted me so my face could be right infront of his, prompting me to lean forward and press our lips together.

Our souls entwined as we did so, endless amounts of passion poured into one act.

The silent appreciation that this was real and it was only just the beginning.

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tarotmundomonde · 5 months

Text

The person on your mind May 2024

love reading (feelings & actions)

pick a number 1-5 OR an emoji 🙀 💨 🍏 🧐 🩹 Let me know, if it resonates and if you enjoyed the reading!

(ps. this reading is for practice and for fun)

1.🙀 If you chose this pile, it looks similar to a make it or break it situation. It looks like you have some lessons to learn, but are you learning? There is a desire for renewal, for creating something beautiful of your connection. You do have love for each other. But it can go two ways, either you repeat the same old cycles and lessons or you've learned your lessons and finally can upgrade this connection and make it into something of higher quality. Basically, you can renew a situation and feel stuck or you've learned your lessons and this love can grow deeper and fonder. Currently, it looks like your person feels that it's over between you two. But as the month of May goes by, in their heart they truly desire to renew your love for each other. This person is ready to apologize, if necessary, but if there is no need for that, then they simply really want to confess their love for you. They really feel the spark and the love for you. Their feelings are running high for you and they feel a sense of hope. As for their actions, it kinda looks like they will shock you 😂 It doesn't seem like they are very sure yet about what they are going to do, but they will take a step back to think about it. This person wants to have truce with you. But it looks like they feel such a strong attraction towards you that it's like one day they'll just show up at your door or call or send you a message about how they want to be with you. The only sure thing is you will be shocked. It's just at first they will probably try to postpone things, so there will be some delays from your perspective. It's not gonna happen, when you expect it to. But there is a sense of preparation here. Like when they take time off, then their energy gets redirected and it becomes available for them to use it in a healthy way. So it's like gradually, the intensity will grow till they just can't take it anymore and they come running to you.

2.💨 Looking at the cards, there is a focus on you, rather than on the connection. This connection right now is filled with mysteries, nothing clear. Lots of dreams and thoughts, but nothing concrete. You can only know about yourself. But mind you, the cards are talking about vanity, the situation being very superficial and that there could be another female in the picture. So it seems right now this connection is teaching you about self-love. About just being you and not trying to please anyone. This person does not feel comfortable about their feelings for you. They do have them, they feel like there is something very special between you two. It looks like this person wants to catch you. They want to touch you, if only they could touch you. They want to hold you with their hands. Like you are someone delicate and precious. Like they have to tread you softly no matter how overwhelming their feelings are for you. And as the month of May goes by, they choose to hold back till they are free of all their feelings for you. As for their actions, it looks like they are very adamant on walking away. They are trying to draw the line, to not look back. But there seems to be temptation to see, what you are up to. They could try to be oblivion, a bit like a fool. Hoping you'd pick on the hints. They might be talking about you with their friends, too, to ask for their advice. But it looks like they'll just try to keep themselves busy till they make it. Till they no longer have feelings for you. That's what it looks like.

3.🍏 Looking at the cards, the current situation of this connection could be a little messy to say the least. It looks like there are other people involved and they have an opinion or two to share. Definitely some third-party situation going on here. It seems like there is someone else or some other people here, who think the person on your mind is their soulmate. They are very jealous, so it seems there is an open competition going on here, they are not holding back. They refuse to accept that you could be the one they want to be with. So there is a lot of entrapment here. Them trying to isolate and separate you two from each other, creating traps even. But it seems there is a whole lot of passion between you and the person on your mind and it seems they think there is something special between you. They are definitely wondering, if what they feel could mean that you are soulmates. But a lot of drama here, and it looks like a lot could be happening online. This person does not want to give up on you. They feel very much invested and they don't want to give up. They still want to try and work on this, put in the effort and see what happens. And as the month of May goes by, their feelings for you are not changing at all. Like at all. As for their actions, they want to have some fun. It kinda looks like they want to poke you to get a reaction out of you. They want you to give them love, show them love, shower them with your love. But they are not really reciprocating it. Instead, they want to do and say things and then see, how and what you'll respond to it. It's like you are an apple they want to slice open, they want to know, how you exactly feel and what exactly you think. Indeed, there is a focus on wanting to receive from you. They are trying to gather their courage to transform the situation, to face it. But for them it's a lot about experiencing. They want to receive some experiences from you, like you offer them something different from the others. But this situation also brings you experiences of courage and transformation.

4.🧐 If you chose this pile, the current situation of this connection is sadness. It feels like there's been an abrupt ending of some kind or maybe something was said. It looks like a pattern has been broken in this connection. Maybe the person on your mind chose someone else over you. But they don't seem happy, either. Though the feeling is that something happened and you did not respond in an expected way. Like no matter what they do, they can't make you angry anymore, they can't make you jealous. It keeps coming through as you've said something and it's like they don't have power over you. But there is expansion here. In theory, this connection could be improved. Really, it looks like they could be with someone else but not giving up on you completely yet. It's like they want something from you. They feel in their heart that they have the tools to make things work between you two. They feel like they want to try something. And as the month of May goes by, they remain curious about you. That's the one thing that doesn't change. But just you know, you are burning in their heart. You have such a huge presence in their heart. They feel pride, joy and happiness, they have pure feelings for you. Okay, this is a little weird, but it's how it's coming through in the reading: they are saying that how dare you be the main character in their heart, when it should be them and whoever they personally choose to be in their heart. This person can't stop feeling curious about you. They feel a bit like a kiddo. They do feel like sending you signs, maybe messages. This person wants your attention, they want a reaction from you. As for their actions, they are looking forward to something. They are patient this month. This person wants to impress you, they want your attention for sure. They really want to see what you'll do and they are planning, what they'll do. This person is looking for the right timing to show up somehow. It also looks like they are creating stress in this situation. It's like there is no room for a wrong move. They are coming through as very stubborn. Like no way they are going to step up and do what's right, yet, at the same time they want to rebel also in the way of wanting to do, what they want to do. This person wants something to become more clear between you two. They want things to go beyond illusion. That means there is a call of truth coming in. They know they need to make a bigger move at your direction. But beware, they might bring in a lot of baggage this month. It just looks like there are too many people involved, too many people surrounding them. So no matter what they do, it could be that there is too much interference from other potential lovers at their side.

5.🩹 There is a lot of healing and joy here in this connection. Also, definitely physical attraction and intimacy. But it says you are at a crossroad right now. Perhaps you are considering, if you want to be more than just having a fling? This person feels very self-confident, when it comes to you. They are certain you desire them. But perhaps your connection is a rebound for them? To be honest, it looks a bit like that, because the way it's coming through is that their feelings for you is like they can come to you anytime they need a self-confidence boost or a boost to their self-esteem. But they do feel a lot of passion, a sense of determination. With you they know they can get what they want from you. And as the month of May goes by, you can tell it's a theme. This person is self-centered. It's more about them than about you. They feel like they are the one holding the keys in their hands. They feel very self-assured. But in their heart they are a bit uncertain, whether they want to pursue anything romantic with you. As for now it looks like this month in their heart they prefer a friends-with-benefits situation. They might want to test you, to kinda give you a chance. As for their actions, this person intends to keep things up in the air with you. They want to keep their options open and to explore them, but it doesn't seem like they are gonna tell you that. Indeed, this person wants to welcome change in. This person wants change, so they will not be 100% in. When it comes to you, they are looking for healing, but when it comes to love they are comparing you to others. So really looking back at the whole reading, it seems that from their side this is a rebound relationship, they are having this connection with you to heal themselves.

#tarot #pick a card reading #pac reading #pick a pile #tarot reading #daily tarot

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avonne-writes · 2 months

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[ GIFT ] sender gives receiver a present (specify)

Aw I have to request this cause Bucky gift giving is the sweetest thing ever. Happy birthday week ☀️

Thank you so much! ❤️ I decided to write this in my friends with benefits au 🥰

Gale licks the ice cream off his spoon serenely as Bucky fidgets opposite him, sideways in his seat. Bucky's eyes track the motion, so Gale makes sure to drag it out and show how much he enjoys it. Not a hard feat to pull off when one likes it as much as he does. The taste, the thick liquid on his tongue, the spoon pressing down... Bucky's attention is a bonus. It’s nice to have it, especially now that Gale knows he can touch those thick thighs if he plays his cards right.

Bucky drums his fingers on his own forearm, then shifts again. Gale scoops up another spoonful and puts it in his mouth. He draws it out, his eyes on Bucky the whole time. He wonders if Bucky realizes that Gale had him figured out the moment he showed up with his jacket draped over his arm and refused to leave it at Gale’s place even though it's hot and sunny outside.

There’s something in that jacket he’s trying to hide. When he started his telltale restless shifting, Gale’s suspicion became certainty. It’s a gift, and Bucky's thrumming with excitement as he waits for the perfect moment to "surprise" Gale with it. God help him, Gale finds it endlessly endearing. He doesn’t want it to stop. Like good sex, he wants to enjoy it as long as possible even if it means denying himself the climax a little longer.

"Need some help with that?" Bucky jerks his chin towards Gale's melting dessert.

Gale debates his options, but his longing to act like Bucky's boyfriend wins over his desire to drag this out as long as possible. He takes a spoonful of ice cream and holds it out, heart fluttering when Bucky barely falters before leaning forward and letting Gale feed it to him. Thank God that Bucky had a cone instead of a cup, leaving them with only one spoon and just enough willingness to go with the excuse.

"You can leave it if you don’t wanna eat the whole thing." Bucky says, squirming in anticipation again.

Gale scoops more liquid ice cream into his mouth. Heat pools in his stomach when he thinks about the fact that he’s sucking on the spoon that has just been in Bucky's mouth. "What's the rush, you have a date or something?"

"I wish." Bucky sighs wistfully, and, well, that does sting. "I'm just... uh, bored."

It's painful enough that Gale’s appetite, for ice cream or anything else, vanishes as if it never existed. He puts down the spoon and pushes his cup away, then moves to stand. "Didn't they teach you how to sit still in first grade?"

"They gave up on the first day."

Bucky lets their elbows brush together as they start walking towards the exit. He grins wide and bright, and all of Gale's disappointment succumbs to the butterflies in his stomach that set off at the sight. As they leave the café and step into the bright summer sunshine that lights up the green grass of the park, Bucky reaches into the jacket he keeps carrying around and pulls something out.

"Got you something to celebrate your paper."

Gale takes it and turns it around in his hands. It's a mug. Dark as the night sky, a spaceship doodle and a dorky text breaking it up with white lines. 'Forget princess, I want to be an astrophysicist'.

It doesn't even make sense why Bucky wanted to give it to him now and not in the café, but Gale doesn’t mention that. He just runs his thumb over the cool ceramic and tries not to smile like he’s in love. Wouldn’t do them any good if he did. "Thanks."

Bucky throws his arm around Gale's shoulders. "You should give me a best friend of the year award."

I would if I didn’t know that you’ll break my heart, Gale thinks, but he just keeps on walking forward. "Don’t count on it." He says, and Bucky laughs.

#buck x bucky #mota #clegan #john egan #gale cleven #anon #my writing #fwb au #yes this is still a birthday prompt i'm sorry i'm slow #2 more to go

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irafuwas · 10 months

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Sebek and Silver - More alike than meets the eye

I know much has been said already on how Silver and Sebek diametrically oppose each other – from their handedness to their hobbies, and from their personalities to their poses in certain cards – but something I feel we also need to focus on is the one unifying point in their story arcs. Namely, their journeys to discover just who they are.

*This post contains light spoilers for cards and story content that have not been released on the EN server yet*

Sebek is infamous for his one-track mind. He dedicates himself to his studies, his extracurricular activities, and his training, all for Malleus’s sake – partly to earn commendation from the men he so respects, and partly to bring honor to his liege’s name. His endeavors are admirable, in that he is diligent, persevering, and earnest, yet rarely does he divulge any of his genuine, private ambitions.

Consider, in fact, that the very reason he sought to enroll at NRC was only to serve as Malleus’s guard, rather than for his own academic aspirations.

Though we’ve yet to learn just why he so fervently worships Malleus, perhaps we can trace this desire for his liege’s recognition back to a broader need to be affirmed of his worth. If you recall his despair at manifesting his magic so late, and how much it bothered him - hurt him, even - when Silver departed for NRC and left him behind, the great extent to which he values magical prowess is clear to see. And if we further consider how he so longs to separate himself from his human heritage – from his magicless heritage, could it be that, even more than the glory of knighthood, he simply yearns to find a part of himself that he – and all those around him – can be proud of, can find worth in?

For what is he without his magic? He, a mere half-blood, born amongst a peoples whose bodies thrum with a power more sacred, more ancient than the air within our lungs and the ground beneath our feet? I feel Sebek is so driven, so severe in his efforts to claim the right to stand by his liege’s side, just so that he one day might finally be able look himself in the mirror and say, “here, here is at least some part of me I don’t have to be ashamed of, that I don’t have to hate.”

And Silver, that sweet boy, how unerring, how remarkable is his selflessness, how his inexhaustible compassion belies the scant 17 years he’s spent awake on this earth! But when one pours out so much of oneself for others as he has done, when all that one does is for the sake of someone else, how often one loses sight of one’s own identity. Indeed, if I were to draw for you a map of the inside of Silver’s heart of hearts, if I were to plot for you his every dream, measure and record every aspect of his being, I scarcely doubt there’d be a single point you couldn’t trace back to his desire to make his father happy.

To that end, consider how we learned in Silver’s latest birthday vignette that Lilia began training him from an incredibly young age – when he had only just become conscious of his surroundings. A child that young cannot make such a monumental decision for himself - the decision must be made for the child. And so, we do not truly know if Silver’s dreams of knighthood are the result of his own personal meditations, or if his father, in his infinite folly, thrust them upon him, burdening the young child with an aspiration that would go on to consume nearly every facet of his life.

With the both of them being so unsure in their own identities, it's why I find it so poignant - and so apropos – that Sebek is the one to rouse Silver from his moments of self-doubt, time and time again. When Silver questioned his capabilities as a leader, when he wished desperately that he could change, that he could be more like his classmates, and when he, in his darkest hour, doubted even the sanctity of his father’s love for him – each and every time it was Sebek who liberated him from his great desolation.

It has to be Sebek - for who better to accompany Silver on his journey towards self discovery than one who must walk down the same path as he? Who better than his best friend, his brother, his reflection – his veritable light in the darkness of his own heart?

#twst silver #sebek zigvolt #twst theory #twst analysis #twst #twisted wonderland #twst spoilers #txt

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just-my-latest-hyperfixation · 11 months

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To fall, to burn

Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles, October warm-up round.

Prompt: Halloween

Rated: T

CW: alcohol abuse, mind control

Tags: Vampire!Eddie; Steve and Nancy are unhappily married; sexual tension

Notes: This started out as an attempt at the @steddiemicrofic for October, but it sort of spiralled, so here we are. 🙃

His name is Eddie and he's always dressed as a vampire.

He shows up on their first Halloween at the new house, looking elegant and suave in his waistcoat, dark hair in an old-fashioned braid down his back. Steve, immediately drawn in by his wit and easy charm, asks if he lives nearby, and Eddie chuckles.

"Used to," he says. "Now I just visit occasionally."

They spend the better part of the night out on the porch, chatting away while the trick-and-treaters trickle by.

"Newly married?" Eddie asks at some point, red eyes trained on his ring finger. They look so real. Steve wonders what contacts he uses.

"Yeah," he nods. "Nancy isn't here, though. She's away for business a lot, just got promoted."

"What?" Eddie smiles, bright and dimpled and with a hint of fangs. "Leaving a pretty thing like you all alone? Shame."

Steve laughs, and if he notices how those eyes linger on the blush that creeps up his neck, that's nobody's business, right?

"What's got that lovely face all sad on this beautiful night?"

"Oh, hey!" Steve tears his eyes off the costumed children passing by as Eddie joins him on the porch steps. "Didn't see you all year."

"Of course not," Eddie winks. "I'm a creature of darkness."

His costume is more modern today, all black leather and chains, hair spilling over his shoulders in messy curls.

Steve chuckles, twists his wedding band. Frowns.

"Trouble in paradise?"

Steve huffs. "No. Yeah. I dunno, maybe."

And then - and he has no idea why - he spills his heart to this complete stranger. How maybe they both rushed into this marriage. How they seem to be wanting different things from life. How he always thought they'd have kids, lots of them, while Nancy is so focused on her career. Maybe it's the way those ruby eyes never leave him as he speaks. They draw him in, drag all the things he keeps buried deep inside to the surface, until he feels raw and vulnerable and wide open. Seen.

"She's a fool," Eddie hums. And Steve never noticed, but he has shifted closer. So close their shoulders are brushing. So close that Steve feels his breath on his skin, so close Eddie’s scent tickles his nostrils. Leather and musk and something earthy and wild. "You should have anything you desire."

Steve laughs it off, but it feels wrong in his throat.

Steve's bottle of whisky is almost empty and the trick-and-treaters long gone when he looks up to see Eddie standing before him, jewelry glinting in the dying light of the Jack O'Lanterns. Those red eyes flick over the last of the cardboard boxes still stacked on the porch and Eddie’s face twitches.

"She gone then?"

Steve blinks sluggishly. Nods, sways, topples. Eddie is crouched in front of him in an instant, catches him before he can fall and cradles him to his chest.

"It's okay, sweet thing, let it out."

Steve is about to ask what he means, but then the sticky wetness on his face registers, and he flushes with humiliation.

"Shit," he slurs, tries to stand. "Sorry."

Eddie brings one strong hand to the back of his head and pulls him back in. His fingers card through Steve’s hair, a solid, firm weight.

"No need to apologize for a broken heart. I'm just sorry it had to come this far."

He smiles, fangs gleaming in the low light, and something inside Steve's chest flutters. His head is dizzy, and Eddie’s eyes are so pretty, a swirling vortex of red that's sucking him in. He wants nothing more than to fall into them and burn.

"Steve .. " Eddie is saying, and Steve must be so, so drunk, because he could swear his lips aren’t moving, and still that voice is clear as day in his head, in his bones. In his blood. "If you were mine … I'd never let anything hurt you."

"Would …" Steve gulps. Eddie’s eyes watch the movement of his throat, pupils blown wide, watch his tongue as it darts out to wet too-dry lips. "Would you maybe … like to go inside?"

"Aw, honey, finally!" Eddie’s eyes crinkle around the corners, and then he hoists Steve to his feet like a ragdoll, steers them both towards the door with one firm arm around his waist. His breath tickles the hollow of Steve's neck, and his fangs scrape his rabbiting pulse. "Thought you'd never ask."

Part 2

#steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steve x eddie #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #vampire!eddie munson #steddie holiday drabbles #hype's holiday drabbles

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astrologylunadream · 10 months

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What They Want for Christmas?💌🎀🎄 (Pick a card/Tarot love reading)

♪All I want for christmas is you~💕

Hey it's Lunadream💓 Christmas is here~ so it's a must to see what that person on your mind has on their list!🗒💫 hope you find your message🍨

Notice: Only take what resonates because the most important thing is your own judgement!♡ If anything doesn't resonate, don't worry! It's not your message right now <3 (Entertainment purpose only. All rights reserved)

Now, shall we begin~? ^w^ Think of the your person, and pick whichever pile that fits the energy you're feeling~🤍

Pile 1☃️

Pile 2🌸

Pile 3🐈

Pile 4🦢

Take your time and choose carefully with the heart~♡

On to the readings —> ☁️🎄🌸

Pile 1☃️

Sign energy: Decay, Venus, Deep, Adventure, Outfit, North node, 2nd house, Virgo, Saturn, Capricorn, 🛑🟨👄👉

🎄Your person's energy: Ah so you're person has very sweet yet defined features, also feminine aura about them💓 They may have Taurus, Virgo, Capricorn, or Aquarius placements in their chart. Your person is so soft and cute but also really attractive physically, their lips draw you in so deep omg they have really nice lips😳💞 There may be a significant age gap for some of my pile 1's but your person can simply seem mature for their age like responsible and well behaved. I'm getting the feeling your person doesn't let themselves have fun that often, they try to limit crazy or wild experiences to prevent the risk of huge problems in their life. Ohh but your person has such an effortless sensual beauty about them, I feel like their jaw/neck is one of their key features. They are so pretty to you I'm hearing🥺💗 They dress really nice like sensibly and classy, omg they just look so well put together in everything they wear!😫 This may be someone you are unable to love in some way, like something is stopping you from feeling their love. Yellow may look good on your person, the color could be significant. They have a hot voice haha, like do you just stare at their lips when they speak??😂💋 Their touch is so irresistible to my pile 1's like the way they touch you would probably feel really pleasing.🥴 You guys are really far into loving this person, like these feelings for them have run deep even until the end of the year🎄💗 You low key want to kiss this person I'm hearing aww ^v^ My pile 1's have such a soft and adorable love for this person like how could they ignore that??

🎀What they want for christmas: Absence, Center, Face, Spiral, 2nd house, Fire, 3rd house, 4th house, Lilith, Sun,😋🧨♉❌ Ohh okay there's definitely something your person wants to rid of this season oml like that is their christmas present, now I'm called to say it's people bothering them that they wish would just leave them be for now😞 This could be family or just anyone around them that is causing problems for them during this time. They want to have peace and quiet away from any gossip or fake smiles and be able to enjoy the finer things, they also want to be comfortable and home for christmas. They don't wanna be the center of attention right now, like literally all they want is some time to themselves to enjoy the holidays!!😫 Ugh I feel so bad for them like seriously my pile 1's your person is so done with people invading their personal space and taking up their time. All they want for christmas is to take a break from all the drama and go slow with things, sit back and relax while listening to christmas tunes.🎄🎷💕 They want to go off the radar and enjoy a christmas in solitude only with those closest to them they trust. They may also wish to spend less money this year, and spend the holidays simpler. For some of my pile 1's this person wishes to run away with you for christmas, that is one gift they desire is to go far away to a desolate yet beautiful winter wonderland and take you with them.🥺❄☃️ This year they may feel less of a need for anything under their tree, ohh but one thing is that they sort of want is to have you in their possesion for christmas, like their special little gift to unwrap😳 But overall they just to have a pleasant cozy time enjoying christmas in peace.💭🎀❄

💌Messages from your person: This is all my fault, It's too early, I'm loyal to you, Just dance with me to holiday tunes, I only listen to you, Do you think I'm hot? I want to spend time with you this christmas, Listen up (Haha your person has a lot to say omg🥰) Extra cards: Nice, Pluto, Princess, Wild, Feminine

Thank you my pile 1's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❄💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 1 with the snowing snowman emoji~☃️ Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗

Pile 2🌸

Sign energy: Seduction, Gap, Pretty, Search, Mindfulness, 2nd house, Mars, Juno, Eros, Mercury, 🤯😴👗🏚

🎄Your person's energy: We have a very attractive person for my pile 2's!! I feel like you guys have a noticeable height difference. (so cute >w<) Taurus, Aries, Scorpio, Gemini and Virgo are posible placements, may have mercury or mars in 2nd house. Haha your person is searching for the one💍 They are very serious about committing and finding their life partner I mean they are so passionate about finding their future spouse omg💞 They know how to reel others in romantically with their voice and way of flirting, this is someone they are very good at🤭🌹 They can turn anyone on pretty easily I'm hearing, because they're super smooth and witty. Now your person definitely has good looks, you find them pretty and hot at the same time like "which one??"😰 Lol it's both. Somewhere in your mind you are low key curious what they look like in a dress😏 (no matter gender haha) Ah my pile 2's your person is really desirable and attractive!! You may feel they are the one for you, and you might know their flirting tricks all too well. They blow you away nonetheless with their stunning natural beauty and charms, aw and I bet their voice could put you to sleep like it's so soft and soothing to you.😭💗 Their voice turns you on too, and the things they say... they definitely seduce you well. You want to dress up for this person, and you think of them often. They are maybe even sweeter than cake to you, that is how they make you feel my pile 2's! <3

🎀What they want for christmas: Practice, Store, Control freak, Vent, Disturbance, Venus, Scorpio, Air, 1st house, Eros,💪🧡🎢😩 Wow okay this is alot. So your person is definitely obsessing over something for christmas, like it has to happen or else!!🤯 Now I'm getting not so much as getting gifts for themselves, but they want to buy gifts for others. Lol they also wish they could buy love for christmas I'm hearing🥺💓 Omg pile 2 I think they want you for christmas, like they want to have you all to themselves!!😫🙏 Loving you may be their christmas wish, and getting to unwrap you too🥵 They have a lot of crazy fantasies for christmas of my pile 2's but I will try to keep it shallow as possible. Your body is their most desired gift, let's just say that. And they wish they could have a lot of fun with their christmas toy🫣🧤♨️ I mean endless control and play time. That is ALL I will be saying for that I'm sorry maybe take it over to one of my spicy readings lol anyways as the song goes, all they want for christmas is you like wow.🥺 They want lots of pleasures for christmas, and a lot of indulging. Splurging on shopping and taking photos for christmas, I feel like they wanna buy a lot of stuff they find pretty😂 Buying you christmas gifts may be something they wish to do someday, they want to give you so much for the holidays. They want to please you because it gives them a sense of fulfillment too. Taking you to stores and buying you whatever you want, that is on their christmas list😖🗒💞

💌Messages from your person: We would be perfect together, I want to protect you, Don't hold back, Think of me, I get lost in your eyes, I know exactly how you like it, Do as I say, Don't give me the silent treatment (Omg😳🤭) Extra cards: Routine, January, Slow, Social media, Optimist

Thank you my pile 2's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❄💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 2 with the pink flower emoji~🌸 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗

Pile 3🐈

Sign energy: Apology, Hard, Bottom, First impression, Moon, Sun, Aquarius, 8th house, Cancer, Jupiter, 🔍🟧🧚‍♀️🍎

🎄Your person's energy: This is a very emotional person on pile 3's mind, bright and angelic. Possible placements are Cancer, Leo, Aquarius, Scorpio, Sagittarius and Pisces. I feel like you are heavily looking into this person for whatever reason, seeking out all the possibilities. You probably learn more about them way easier than math.🤣 The color orange may be significant or you've been seeing it lately. You have been keeping an eye on this person especially through online sources, trying to discover what they're all about🧐💭 They may have peaked your interest at first because you found them physically *ahem* attractive♨️ and now you've been trying to look deeper beyond their pretty face and know get to know them well. They may have done something they regret in the past, causing them to feel bad or upset with themselves. They really do have an ethereal beauty to them, like an elf or fairy. You want to know a lot about this person, to know them so well it's almost scary.😨 Because they interest you so much, and you like being curious. Some of you know this person through online so you look at their photos with wonder of who they really are behind it all, you wanna get to the bottom of it. I feel like you guys like having something to obsess over and hey it keeps things interesting for some of you so that is why you are so involved with your person.💗✔ I'm getting some detective vibes from you guys, trying to discover your person <3

🎀What they want for christmas: Meant to be, Captive, Regret, Locked, Cold, Moon, 6th house, Uranus, Venus, Eros, 🎭🧬🍁🦉 Aww so for some of you, this person really wants to be with their mother for christmas.🥺💞💞 How sweet. For some of my pile 3's this person may have family or relatives in canada. They may feel tired and trapped in their routine/job and wanna take time off from their obligations to attend family gatherings and reunions.🥂💫 There is a very specific gift they long for this christmas, they are fixated on receiving love.💏🎄 They are wishing on a star to feel the warm feeling and sweetness that comes from a lover during the holidays. They may regret spending too much time online or through their phone instead of focusing on the love they long for. Your person is definitely dreaming of a white christmas, they want it to be cold and snowing so they can bundle up in the comfort of a blanket with their loved ones.🏠🧣💞 They also imagine the best gift of all would be holding their lover tight to shield them from the cold, and keep them safe and warm in their arms.❤ Having a steamy night with them is also on their list😳 Haha your person really wants a romantic time for the holidays, but they are actually really overthinking about what to get for christmas. Also thinking of what to gift to coworkers or friends, that is a lot of what's weighing on their mind right now. They want all sorts of events and romance for the holidays omg my pile 3's your person really wants to be loved for christmas💓

💌Messages from your person: You'll never forget me, Just listen to me, They're just jealous, I'm in trouble, I should be, You're my problem, Why would you want me? You're the only one for me this christmas (Ahh😆💗) Extra cards: Pretend, Softie, Admiration, Details, Offer

Thank you my pile 3's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❄💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 3 with the cat emoji~🐈 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗

Pile 4🦢

Sign energy: Learning, Head, Model, Waist, Bones, 5th house, 3rd house, 10th house, Uranus, Pluto, 🌸🎬🤞👸

🎄Your person's energy: Such lovely vibes for my pile 4's person, powerful magnetic aura too. Leo, Gemini, Capricorn, Aquarius and Scorpio placements are significant, Pluto in 3rd house, Uranus in 5th placements. Your person has really good bone structure I'm hearing, may have model like features especially jawline or bones. Their waistline is highly attractive to you, they have an effortless charm to them.💗 I feel like a lot of people obsessively think of your person, and say possesive things like "they're mine" or "I own you" like everyone wants a piece of them omg🙄 They have a movie star look to them, they just look like the face of a movie. Very unique and creative too, their hairstyle or color is eye catching in some way. I am getting very successful vibes from your person, like they are on the right track✔ Their mind is very deep and magnetic, like they have a hot mind lol. (probably a dark one too😳) The same flower emoji came out that represented pile 2 so for those who felt drawn to that pile maybe check that too. Your person has such a cool vibe to them, untouchable and gorgeous. I feel like they roll their eyes at the invasive comments others make about them, they don't let the little people bother them. They know what they're worth, I feel like this person makes a lot of money😩💲💰 They walk like it's nobody's business omg model walk, and that intense stare ahh my pile 4's your person is killing it😍

🎀What they want for christmas: Romance, Masculine, Chemistry, Short-term, Harm, Virgo, Moon, Aries, Sagittarius, Eros, ♨️🎫🤨🧯 Omg I was not expecting this but your person wants to get on the naughty list apparently.😰👿 We won't be going into details here but wow, just wow. All I will say is that your person wants a usable gift for sure, something they can have their fun with and meet their needs.😭 Unleash their worst side, they want a lot of chemistry. Your person wants to redeem their prize with someone, it is possible this is my pile 4's. Tbh what they really want is a short-term wild night as their christmas present, to let loose from their job/routine and let out all their aggressions on someone🫣 They may simply wish to yell at someone to release all their built up stress from everything they've dealt with this year.💢 Omg they just want to go off on those people who annoy them lmao that would literally be the best christmas present to them.😂🎁 But yeah they have a lot of naughty things on their list, definitely physical fantasies I won't go into but yeah. They want a hot and passionate time with someone, to take away their worries and let out their wild side.🤯 Maybe they feel like showing you for your christmas present, and since they could really feel like dominating someone it could be their hope to satisfy your fantasies of them.💓

💌Messages from your person: The pain will go away, We will be together, Let's listen to christmas music together, I always fantasize about you, Don't just stand there, No, I believe in you, You should smile more. (How cute🤭💫) Extra cards: Compulsive, First love, One of a kind, Despair, Sight

Thank you my pile 4's! If you feel this resonated, you may tap the heart to claim this message!❄💌

I hope you enjoyed your reading! ʚ(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )ɞ If you did be sure to let me know pile 4 with the swan emoji~🦢 Thanks for scrolling through, Hugs hugs hugs!! See you in the next reading💗

Wanna see more readings like this? Check out my tumblr for accurate readings for you!💗🌊🌸

Thanks for reading! \(*^w^)/💌 -Lunadream <3

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oliversrarebooks · 8 months

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The Rare Bookseller Part 36: Alexander's Desire

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June 1905

TW: mind control, captivity, human auction

Lex was bored.

He was surrounded by vampires all dolled up in their best attire, eager to see and be seen at the most high-end auction in the entire region, and he could hardly bring himself to care. All of the chatter was petty politics and gossip and who-is-wearing-what and who-is-buying-what, and it was hard to feign the slightest bit of interest.

Still, he did need a thrall. His long-time thrall Edmund had died of old age and blood loss after a lifetime of service. He'd been a good thrall, quiet and obedient, and his presence had eased some of Lex's loneliness. His loss was felt keenly. He knew that a good portion of the vampires here, even those who loved their human pets and servants, would scoff at the depths of Lex's grief over a mere thrall. Lex had always had too soft a heart, a fact that his sire never hesitated to remind him of.

Even so, the grief stung whenever he allowed himself to feel it -- whenever he had need to venture into the cold, spotless kitchen or start up the fire himself. He no longer had anyone to read particularly interesting passages of books to or play music for. There was no more wry chuckle when Lex made a mistake. No one to accompany him to the opera or ballet.

He'd hastily skipped the cattle pen of mind-wiped humans -- he found the entire idea distasteful, their vacant eyes unsettling -- in favor of perusing those designated as servants. Every one had bowed politely to him, addressed him as Mr. Alexander, and answered his questions briefly and with civility. Each one had been so enthralled as to lose most of whatever personality they might've had, and it might take years to draw any of it out of them, like it had with Edmund. The fashion of the time, unfortunately.

But his need for fresh blood couldn't be denied any longer, and even though these humans were unappealing in demeanor, his mouth still watered at the smell. At this rate, all he could do was pick out the most promising of the lot, take them home, and hope to coax some life out of them.

How tedious.

How very, very lonely.

There was, of course, one wild card, one wrench in the machine: his sire-sister, Lily, who had pulled him aside earlier that night to tell him about a secret project she had, a thrall that Lex would just love. That was mildly terrifying, coming from her -- Lex shuddered to think what she'd done to the poor human. Lily's skills in conditioning were second to none, but her ideas of what made a good thrall often ran counter to the grain.

He took his polite leave from the sixth vampire who'd stopped him in the hall, eager to curry favor with him and thereby curry favor with his sire, and headed into an ornately-decorated side room.

There, in the center of the room, stood a man with short blond hair, a stunning red velvet ball gown, and a cocky grin on his face. The thrall looked Lex up and down, and his grin only grew wider.

Lily was standing to his side, wearing some frilly pink confection of a dress. "This is the vampire I wanted you to meet, Fitz."

"Oh, this is Mr. Alexander?" said Fitz. "You didn't tell me he looked like this, sir. I might need to take back what I said about not wanting to serve a vampire."

"This is my special project, Lex," said Lily, bursting with pride.

"The special-est, sir."

"Lex, meet Fitz."

"Charmed, sir, both literally and figuratively," said Fitz, bowing with a little flourish.

Lex stood there, stunned, not knowing quite how to react. "Are you... have you actually been... what I mean to say is, are you a thrall?"

"I've been hypnotized to hell and back by Miss Lily here, if that's what you mean, sir," he said. "But for better or worse, she's allowed me to retain my sparkling wit."

"Is that so?" Lex glanced over at Lily, who was looking incredibly smug. He had to hand it to her: this thrall at least wasn't boring. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen such life in the eyes of a thrall.

"But enough about me, sir," said Fitz, getting into Lex's personal space. He smelled like lavender and rich, delicious blood, and that confident smile paired with sparkling blue-gray eyes was undeniably handsome. "Let's talk about you. Specifically, why you should buy me."

"Isn't that also about you?"

"You got me there, sir." Fitz laughed.

"Why would you even want me to buy you?" said Lex. "You seem to have your mind intact. You know that you'd be my servant, you'd lose your freedom, and I'd drink your blood."

"I don't know if you noticed, sir, but that's going to happen to every human here, or so I'm told. If I'm going to be a servant and delicious meal anyway, I might as well pick my poison, right? And you seem at least to be a very attractive poison."

Lex had seen thralls fawn and beg before, but he hadn't ever seen a thrall openly flirt. It was nakedly manipulative, of course, but the fact that the thrall was even capable of manipulation was intriguing.

"What are your interests, Fitz?" said Lex.

"The stage is my passion, I'm proficient in magic tricks, passable at fortunetelling, excellent at cards, and dabble in all sorts of arts and crafts and handiwork, sir."

"Do you play any instruments?"

"The guitar and the piano, sir, although I wouldn't expect concert-quality performances."

Lex couldn't help but smile. A thrall that played music, and had his mind together enough to indulge in hobbies! He'd longed for a thrall like this ever since he'd buried poor Edmund. Despite himself, he was already losing himself in a daydream of Fitz in his music room, playing a simple tune on his guitar, filling his bleak and lonely mansion with song.

He shook himself out of it. He couldn't give away his interest too obviously.

"Hmm, let's see," he said, hooking a finger under Fitz's chin and directing him to look him in the eye. His blood smelled like a delectable feast, and it was eroding Lex's self-control. He couldn't hold back his vampiric aura, and he saw Fitz's eyes go wide under his influence. Oh, that was gorgeous. "If I were to buy you, would you offer your blood to me?"

"Yes, yes, sir," he said, now looking more like a dazed thrall, tilting his head to the side to expose his neck. Lex had found this fawning behavior uninteresting from the other, more heavily conditioned thralls -- but on Fitz, who just moments before had been bright and alert, it was intoxicating. "Being fed on by a vampire exactly like you is all I can think about lately. Drink, please."

Lex realized that he was far, far too blood-starved to rationally deal with this kind of temptation. He released Fitz from the spell, seconds away from losing himself and biting into merchandise that wasn't his. Yet, came the automatic thought, which he tried to dismiss.

Life returned to Fitz. "You deserve to drink from someone with blood as good as mine, sir."

"Oh?" Lex cocked an eyebrow. "How do you even know that your blood tastes good?"

"Well, a serious looking man in a very dapper suit told me that my blood was top shelf triple-A fancy grade, sir," said Fitz. "He seemed very authoritative, so I'm inclined to believe him utterly."

Lex laughed. It was probably the first time he'd laughed since Edmund died.

Oh, he was in trouble. This wasn't a thrall he would settle for because he needed fresh blood to live. He wanted this thrall. And he didn't like wanting anything -- it was a recipe for disappointment and disaster. And Lily was grinning like a loon. She knew.

"You're going to cost me a lot of money, aren't you?" he said in defeat.

"You're certainly not the first person to say that to me, sir."

Well, it wasn't like money was a serious obstacle to him. While this style of lucid thrall wouldn't appeal to some of the vampires here, the fact that Fitz had the highest graded blood Lex had seen at a local auction would drive his price sky-high regardless of his personality. And unfortunately, Lex already knew that he was willing to pay just about any price for this one. The thought of another vampire buying him, dragging him away by his handcuffs, sinking their fangs into what was rightfully his --

No, this was ridiculous. He had to keep his calm until the auction proper.

"I -- I really should -- I should take my leave and peruse the rest of the merchandise," said Lex as casually as he could muster, as though he hadn't already looked over most of the available thralls and found them lacking.

"Well, you're certainly not going to find anything better than me, but I understand the impulse," said Fitz. "I hope to see you again, sir."

Lex rushed out before he could get drawn back in.

He stalked down the hallway, past chattering vampires, hoping to find a relatively secluded place to clear his head, finally settling on a padded bench in a small windowless nook. His head was spinning with the desire to possess. He'd been starving for both fresh blood and companionship ever since Edmund's death, and still nothing else had sparked the flame of need so deep inside him as this one particular thrall. His mind was filled with fantasy of Fitz playing guitar and singing in the music room, of Lex stroking his fingers through his hair while they lounged by the fire, of how his sparkling eyes would look when Lex enthralled him to feed...

And the way Fitz had entreated him to feed! That was all Lily's deep conditioning, of course, but it seemed so real coming from him, as though his need for a vampire's fangs was genuine. He'd always known Lily was a genius at enthrallment, but Fitz had to be her finest work yet.

Lex tensed at the sound of approaching footsteps, not eager to make pleasantries with yet another respectable vampire, gushing over some empty-eyed, mumbling thrall and asking Lex to convey their respects to his hated sire. He was relieved to look up and find that the sensible black shoes in his line of vision belonged to his old friend Ruth, one of the sharpest minds in the city.

"Good evening, Lex," she said, sitting on the other end of the bench. "I do hope I'm not interrupting some important brooding."

"You're not interrupting anything in particular. The distraction will do me some good."

"So are you not finding anything you like? That's a bit surprising given how long you've gone without a thrall."

"On the contrary, I may have found something I like too much," he admitted, perhaps unwisely. Ruth was also close friends with Lily, and Lily was bound to be entirely too self-satisfied over her little project's success.

"Ah, is it Lily's little pet? He's quite interesting, isn't he? I think I may bid on him. He'd make an excellent clerk."

Lex couldn't keep the half-horrified, half-ferocious look off his face, his baser instincts howling at the idea of having his new toy taken away from him. Ruth cackled. "What's that face? Don't worry, I'm only teasing you. I won't stand in your way -- you're obviously in need of a proper thrall. Or an improper one, as the case may be."

The jealous knot in Lex's chest loosened. He needed to calm himself before the auction proper, lest he make a scene like an unschooled fledgeling. "I appreciate it," he said.

Ruth put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder. "It's actually quite a relief to see you desire a thrall again. The strict repression your sire tries to enforce isn't good for you. After all, what's the point of dragging these old corpses around if we can't even enjoy ourselves?"

Enjoy himself?

When was the last time he'd truly enjoyed himself? Before Edmund's death, certainly, in the times when his manor had been less lonely, and he'd had quality blood to drink. Even then, it was difficult for him to grasp more than fleeting moments of contentment -- his master's pursuit of perfection over happiness had its roots deep in his mind. Truly, he'd been denying himself for so long, and in so many ways.

He wanted this. He needed this. He was going to own Fitz, and no vampire would stand in his way.

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I'm sure this will all turn out fine.

@d-cs @latenightcupsofcoffee @thecyrulik @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night @wanderinggoblin @whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist @xx-adam-xx @ivycloak @irregular-book @whumpsoda @mj-or-say10 @pokemaniacgemini @whumpshaped @whumpsday @morning-star-whump @shinyotachi @silly-scroimblo-skrunkl @steh-lar-uh-nuhs @pirefyrelight @theauthorintraining @whump-me-all-night-long @anonfromcanada @typewrittenfangs @tessellated-sunl1ght @cleverinsidejoke @abirbable @ichorousambrosia @a-formless-entity @gobbo-king @writinggremlin @the-agency-archives @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @enigmawriteswhump @foresttheblep

#whump #whump writing #vampire #mind control #captivity #vampire whumper #rare bookseller #alexander #fitz

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punkpandapatrixk · 1 year

Text

🐶The Moon’s Message to Your Inner Child ♦︎ Timeless Pick A Card

This PAC is in collaboration with @faerytreealtars and her part of the PAC covers a message from the Sun🌞Check out her PAC to get a full circle reading~🍃😉

["Wisdom from the Sun" – how to reach your divine self]

‘Do you like to draw with crayons? I’m not very good at it. But it doesn’t matter. It’s the fun of doing it that’s important. Now, I wouldn’t have made that if I’d just thought about it. No matter how anybody says it is, it feels good to have made something. The best thing is that each person’s would be different. In a way, you’ve already won in this world. Because you’re the only one who can be you. And that’s the way it’s supposed to be.’ – Mr Rogers

SONG: Take Me by Miso

MOVIE: Finding Neverland (2004) & Goodbye Christopher Robin (2017)

[PAC Masterlist] [Patreon] [Paid Readings]

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Kinder and Kinder to Your Younger Self

VIBE: BAD MODE by Utada Hikaru

your heart’s secret desires – XIX The Sun

You are actually somebody who believes deeply in world peace. You desperately want to see the world become a sweetly welcoming place for all, especially children and animals. You have a belief that children and animals are so deserving of gentleness and safety. But you often forget that all adults are just as deserving of the same kindness we bestow children and cute animals.

At some point if Life, you grew up and became tough. I think you thought that you needed to become so. I think your environment made you believe it was important to become so tough the world you wouldn’t beat you to it. You’ve experienced quite a bit of hardships, too, so it was rather easy to fall prey to this cruel notion that adults must all toughen up.

‘If you’re tough with yourself, the world will be gentle with you.’ ??

Though it may seem like those words contain so much practical wisdom, deep down, your heart is terribly disturbed by it. There’s just something that’s not quite right about it. If everybody is hard on themselves… how can anybody be gentle with someone else?

in your element – 2 of Swords

Irrespective of what your Moon Sign is or where in your natal chart it is placed, you’re technically not a person who wants to toughen up. I think you’re a deeply sensitive Soul who still believes that patience and compassion can solve many of the world’s problems. Because in fact, your Higher Heart knows this to be true. You’re somebody who can make real compromises to accommodate the needs of others and you’re genuinely capable of real charity because you’re the type that tries to understand wholeheartedly where somebody else is coming from.

When you help others, you do so with their best interest at heart and you don’t even expect anything in return. When you are useful to other people, when your existence can improve other people’s life situations, you feel most like yourself. All that you hope for is that people are at minimum grateful because when people are grateful, they’re really only increasing their own ability to manifest even more ease and abundance. You’re not even expecting them to be grateful to you. My goodness, you must be God🤩

But uhm… You sure, honey, you’re not compromising way too much because you’re also somewhat people pleasing for a lack of gentleness in your childhood?

making dreams a Reality – V The Hierophant

See, The Sun is no.19 in the Major Arcana; that reduces to 10. The Hierophant is no.5 and this is telling me that you’re about halfway to manifesting all your dreams of ease and world peace. The half of your manifestation is already stored in your Higher Heart and you have nothing to worry about it. What you do need to focus on is learning to be kinder and gentler with your own younger self. You’re so kind and accommodating to others but often forget that you need tender care yourself.

There’s a possibility that you grew up with stern adults who didn’t know how to be gentle with children. You grew up being a victim to this kind of behaviour so you overcompensate by being overly nice to others because you don’t want to become like them. But you’re still hard on yourself because this is like already programmed in your subconscious, and if you notice, you have a tendency to also be quite stern with those closest to you. And wow… that often kinda gets messy.

Can you imagine if you became a parent yourself? You could become a perpetrator of a cycle of old people pointing fingers at young people who are still trying to figure out their place in the world. I don’t think you’d be happy with yourself in your older years when you realise you haven’t broken this pattern yourself. I believe you’re someone who wants to leave a legacy of a more peaceful nature🍂It begins by creating a new world by creating a new you, after forgiving yourself for past mistakes you made when you didn’t yet know so much🍃

INNER ALCHEMY🔻❤️

balancing logic and emotions – Silver Astrologer (John Dee)

speaking with conviction – Priestess of Inspiration

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Baby Venus, You Came Here to Beautify This World

VIBE: Forever by aespa

your heart’s secret desires – Ace of Cups

You are for sure a Lightworker. Maybe even a Starseed. Or something of a cosmic mystic. Could also be from the faery or elven realm. The point is, your Soul is deeply connected to a realm other than this Earth we perceive consciously right now. That makes your heart EXTRA pure and sparkly because the essence of your being is more refined, baby!

What does it even mean to be Human? Often you don’t have an answer to that. Only thing is, a lot of things about common human conducts that seem to denote their humanness don’t seem all too humane for you. It’s like you’re wondering, ‘If these are the traits that make people Human… then what am I? Because I certainly am not that harsh, deceitful, destructive, or whatever else!’

You have a strong morality about you and you should damn well honour this. The Human world is ugly, indeed, and from your place of beauty, your Soul volunteered to be born here to teach Humans about beauty. Beauty is nice. Beauty is good. Beauty elevates the Human Spirit and if only more people would open themselves to the possibilities, surely everyone would be a lot happier than they are now.

That’s your philosophy, more or less✨🪷

in your element – VI The Lovers Rx

You may resonate to a large extent with being an activist of sort. Whether or not you call yourself an activist or are involved in any real activist project, you know deep down that you’ve always been an activist before even knowing such a term exists. You want to fight for something good in this world. You want to bring an end to all these uncomfortable things that you are witnessing being perpetuated in the Human world. Problem is…

It's been quite hard for you to find people who are on the same bandwidth of frequency as yourself. I think you have a lifelong mission to find your Soul Tribe whilst being incarnate on Earth. I mean, your kind is far and between, honey. It may take some time to find each other and unite for a good cause.

Although you may feel misunderstood and lonely from time to time, the way I see it, you could view this whole journey to finding kindred spirits as a wholesome adventure story. Like a fairy tale, you know. After all, you are a faery. Your Life Story has a purpose to beautify the human spirit later when all’s weaved together to create a grander story with your kindred spirits. It’s all written in the stars already, so might as well enjoy the story writing itself from now🧚🏻‍♀️

making dreams a Reality – II The High Priestess

For you really aren’t of this world, I sense that you actually possess some kind of a superpower. Sure, others might think you’re a weirdo (even a freak for some of you) and that your interests and hobbies are strange and taboo. But what do they know? These mortals are prisoners of their own fake realities.

Since you were a kid, you’ve always known there are holes within this perceived reality and somehow, you’ve always believed there are ways you can bend reality with thought alone. You kinda just didn’t know exactly how that works, you just know it. Like breathing—unless you’ve studied biology, you wouldn’t know how to explain how breathing works but you just know that it happens and how it feels. Something like that.

Your connection to your personal spirituality, your personal occult practices, and everything else of that nature, holds the key to making your Divine Dreams a part of this mortal reality. It’s a beautiful process that only you can experience in your own divine ways, so I can’t tell you what to do exactly to manifest your Destiny. You’ve just gotta keep going at what you know to be your truth🧜🏻‍♀️

And the truth is, you are a magical being who doesn’t even play in the same dimension as the mortals😉Keep doing your magical shit!

INNER ALCHEMY🔻💗

balancing logic and emotions – Silver Astronomer (Galileo Galilei)

speaking with conviction – Priestess of Illumination

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 3 – Don’t Kill Your Dreams No Matter How Wild

VIBE: Anata (Darling) by Utada Hikaru

your heart’s secret desires – 5 of Cups

Hellow, wildchild. It seems you’ve been through quite a bit in Life. There was something in your childhood that erupted in ways your child mind couldn’t have anticipated and it broke you emotionally and spiritually. You’re a pretty logical person, actually, so there’s a part of you that’s been wishing you could get over this heartache. But it hasn’t been easy, at all.

The reason for that is that you care too much. Because you’re incredibly sensitive and kind, you couldn’t help but care. Your heart gets easily disturbed by any small distortion you perceive in this Matrix Reality. You have spidey senses for this kind of thing. Your inner world is so expansive and this is partly why you always feel like you want to help. You want justice to win over evil.

You tend to feel like you’re the one who has to be strong and prove everything to everyone. Not only are you helpful, but you’re truly heroic! That’s how I see it😎The problematic thing is… human beings are not exactly a grateful bunch, so… Maybe being so helpful and heroic isn’t always the best way to nurture your Soul whilst living in this human world?

in your element – Page of Wands Rx

I’m not saying you should stop caring and become a coldhearted bitch. But perhaps posing to be one is a good strategy to preserve your sanity?😜The truth of the matter is that you’re really too precious for this world. You know when people say, ‘We don’t deserve this man or woman or dog or cat.’ You’re exactly like that.

Your passion for making the world a better place is often used against you. I’m kind of thinking of someone like Elon Musk in your case. He was bullied badly at school, but look what he’s doing now. He’s making attempts to improve the lives of everybody that even those bullies are bound to benefit from his passionate work. The haters today are probably gonna benefit just the same, right?

Well, I’m a coldhearted bitch, so my petty view is that these losers don’t deserve to benefit from the works of Elon Musk LMAO But what do you think of yourself? I know that in this lifetime you are going to make great leaps that will improve the lives of those you care about. But what about your heart? Will you be able to forgive those who have made hell out of your Life? Or will you become a vengeful barbie bitch who shows them the door to hell of their own making?

It’s up to you and it should be a very exciting spectacle to anticipate👻

making dreams a Reality – XII The Hanged Man Rx

The Hanged Man is a card that has some relations to The Lovers (to think you even get the Priestess of Love for the bonus content🤯). The Hanged Man often talks about compromises and sacrifices. It’s like, when you love and care so much you’re bound to make sacrifices because the world is far from utopian. In an ideal world we wouldn’t have to hurt just to manifest blessings and abundance, for ourselves or everybody else. But… this is what we have, so…

But although this world is messy and hurtful, it wouldn’t be wise for you to reduce the brilliance of your dreams just to avoid heartache or disappointments. You’re avantgarde; not that many people can see the value of what you wish to achieve with your talents. Never kowtow to the convention. Although you’re helpful and a very pleasant person to be around, you’ve got your own big dreams that are needed by the community. I think you just haven’t allowed yourself to fully embrace this idea.

Know that you’re supported by the cosmos in pursuing to improve what you know to be your true talents. One day, the world will be so grateful that you never gave up on your Light. But when that day comes, what’s your care? Gratitude is the least of your concerns. Basically you just want to live on your own terms and create magical pathways for the world to enter into🌏Whilst at it, might as well do whatever you like🌞

INNER ALCHEMY🔻🧡

balancing logic and emotions – Gold Historian (Raphael Holinshed)

speaking with conviction – Priestess of Love

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themisimagines · 1 year

Text

i could sleep inside the cold of you

inspired by: the 'aimed at your heart' vyn ssr card content: heavily draws upon catherynne m. valente's deathless, 2.5k of seduction & smut so buckle up characters: vyn, fem!reader optional background music: house of cards by bts; take me to church by hozier; religion by lana del rey; the anna karenina (2012) soundtrack

“A marriage is a private thing. It has its own wild laws, and secret histories, and savage acts, and what passes between married people is incomprehensible to outsiders. We look terrible to you, and severe, and you see our blood flying, but what we carry between us is hard-won, and we made it just as we wished it to be, just the color, just the shape.” - Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless

The long table is laid with a feast fit for a king. Platters heaped high with glistening honeyed confits, crisp crackling meat, steaming vegetables delicately braised, deep tureens of stew rich in marrow, an excess of riches, accompanied by what you believe are entire truffles, a sharp knife laid beside them for you to shave your desired portion onto your meal, black salt glistening darkly under the chandelier, in addition to a dish of black sturgeon eggs, like so many pearls gathered in a heap for your amusement.

Entering the dining room on Vyn’s arm, you are shocked by the abundance, the sheer extravagance of it all. You are dressed in a floor length black gown painstakingly embroidered with gold thread, produced seemingly out of thin air by one of the maids, saying that Vyn has requested that you wear it this evening. The material is silky against your skin, making you shiver with every move. The emerald bracelet Vyn won at the Umir Festival is the perfect accompaniment. Vyn, is of course, impeccable in his smoking jacket and tailored trousers.

‘Are we expecting guests?’ You ask Vyn incredulously, staring at the food. ‘Surely Mr. Wechsler was confused.’

‘Not at all. But I believe I once made you a promise that you would never go hungry.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Vyn, we’ll hardly be able to finish this on our own.’

‘My beloved, whatever we cannot finish, I promise that I will allow you to take down to the soup kitchen to feed the hungry populace. Such a role is fitting for the lady of this house, after all.’

‘I’m hardly the lady of the house yet,’ you mutter, flushing red at the implication.

‘Before you launch into another complaint about how you don’t deserve such wonderful treatment, may I propose something, my lady?’ Vyn stops at the door and looks quite seriously down at you from the gold rims of his glasses. You turn your face upwards, marvelling in how beautifully his silver hair frames his face, the way his gaze seems to strip you completely bare.

‘I’ll allow it,’ you say. ‘What do you propose?’

‘Do you trust me?’ Vyn asks.

Your mind flashes back to earlier in the day, during the hunt. Your bodies pressed up against each other, drawing the bow and nocking the arrow. His quiet instructions in your ear, your breath, held for so long you almost grew dizzy, and then, the blur of victory after, shattering the intimate moment.

‘Yes,’ you say at length. ‘I do trust you.’

‘Then I propose that we play a little game. There is no need for you to speak tonight. Whatever you eat will be fed from my hand. Give yourself to me completely, and trust me to take care of you. If you feel uncomfortable at any point, you can say our safe word.’

You stare into his eyes, and he stares back, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. You nod once, slowly. An assent to his conditions. The game has begun.

‘Excellent. Your decisiveness is one of the things I most admire about you. And just once, could you say our safe word, before we embark on this little journey together?’

‘Pomegranate,’ you say, lips parting to let it slide out in a whisper.

‘Very good, my beloved.’ Vyn guides you to where the food awaits, seating you on his right hand side, while he takes the seat at the head of the table. ‘I remember peeking at the suppers my grandmother used to host here. My grandfather would sit at the head of the table, here, while my grandmother sat all the way down there, at the end of the table, both of them as far apart from each other as they could get. The length of the table being a gesture of power, to be sure, but hardly conducive for marital harmony. I believe they even ate like that when they didn’t have guests, or took meals apart. So much nicer to sit together like this, no?’

You almost open your mouth to say something or ask a question, but Vyn silences you with a finger on your lips.

‘I would not be asking you to do this if it was easy, my love, I know it is difficult for you. But we are nurturing this fledgling trust you have placed in me, and the game has just started.’

You watch Vyn’s slow, careful movements as he tears a hunk of golden bread and dips it in olive oil and black salt, the crumb flecked with herbs. He feeds you the morsel gently, telling you about the special wheat used in making the bread and the fields in Svart where it grows. You listen with rapt attention as his voice carries on, moving from dish to dish. As he promises, he feeds you every first bite with his own fingers, their tips gently grazing against the corners of your mouth, leaving your skin tingling and yearning for more.

Your mouth is filled with rich flavours of cream and wild fowl, preserves and pickles, salt and fat, acid and heat. Vyn keeps up the one-sided conversation, reading your mind to say your answers for you, his low tones sending a shiver up your spine. The wine makes your head light and airy. As the meal comes to a close, Vyn feeds you a last mouthful of dessert, his long index finger swiping away a trail of honey from the corner of your mouth. A burst of words comes from you as you impulsively grab his wrist and then place a kiss directly in the palm that has been feeding you all evening.

‘I love you, Vyn,’ you barely whisper, voice hoarse.

Vyn extracts his hand and gives a loud sigh, standing up from the table. ‘You were doing so well, my darling. Like Orpheus, who turned back just at the very last minute and lost Eurydice, so have you lost our little game.’

His eyes are dark, but with a distinct sense of amusement and mischief behind them. ‘Had you won, your prize would have been a fairytale ending, where I swept you off your feet and carried you to the fireplace in the hall, where a magical bower of furs and pillows have been prepared, and you would have sweet love made to you all night—’

‘I don’t care about fairytale endings,’ you interrupt Vyn, standing and moving toward him, a defiance in your tone calculated to push him off the edge, to turn his beautifully crafted game on its head.

Vyn growls and then pounces on you, lips seeking yours harshly, in an attempt to punish you. You kiss him back just as fiercely, biting his lip and drawing blood, smearing it over both your bottom lips, the taste of iron and salt with the sweet still lingering on your tongues. He pushes you both back onto the table, until your legs are wrapped against it and your spine is bent backwards, dress sliding upwards until your thighs are visible.

When he pulls away, it is to admire how rumpled he has left you, how wanting. Your hair is loosened from its carefully piled topknot, lying curled and ragged around your face, which still bears a slight trace of his blood. Your chest, heaving, the tops of your breasts exposed. Legs slightly spread to accommodate his waist, his face looming over yours as if he is about to devour you.

‘Since you seem to be evading my best attempts at seduction, I cannot promise I will be gentle,’ he warns with a smirk.

‘Maybe that was my intention all along,’ you make an effort to retort, although you are aware of how vulnerable a position you are in.

Vyn pushes the dishes off the table, everything landing in a loud clatter on the floor.

‘Vyn!’ You exclaim, turning to look at the food, but he lifts you up onto the table, then pushes your dress upwards around your hips, ripping aside your flimsy underwear. You are about to say something in protest, but then his mouth is on you, trailing heated kisses along your inner thighs, hot breath making you squirm even as he keeps a vice-like grip on your hips. When he licks a hot, wet stripe up the length of your cunt, you cry out in pleasure, spine curving upwards to get more of it.

‘Hm, you seem to be enjoying yourself,’ Vyn pauses to comment. ‘Should I continue?’

‘I will never forgive you if you stop now,’ you pant, and then reach down to encourage his head back between your legs.

He laughs, then applies himself fully to the task, tongue endlessly swirling, and then thrusting inside, all while your hands are twined in his hair, tugging so hard that you are briefly afraid that you have hurt him. He doesn’t show any sign of discomfort, diligently licking and sucking until you are so close to coming, your body a tightly wound mass of nerves. You catch his eyes flicking up to watch your reactions, and just as you are about to come, he pulls away, wiping his mouth away on his sleeve and grinning viciously. You cry out at the sudden loss of heat, writhing in distress.

‘Don’t you think you deserve some punishment for ruining our evening? You didn’t think it was going to be that easy, did you?’ He hisses, then pulls you toward him, forcing you to turn around. Disoriented from the disrupted orgasm and sudden movement, you flail for a moment, then hear the clink of Vyn removing his belt behind you. He grabs your hands and holds them together, using his belt to wrap your wrists snugly, but not too tight. Before anything else happens, he leans forward to where your face is, brushes your hair gently aside to whisper in your ear, ‘Pomegranate?’

You shake your head desperately. ‘Good girl,’ he tells you, stroking your hair.

Then the brief moment of tenderness quickly passes as Vyn grabs your hips, your face sliding across the polished wood of the table and ass sticking up in the air, your cunt completely exposed, only your legs holding you up. Unable to see what’s going on behind you, you can only tremble in anticipation, the feel of Vyn’s hands roughly positioning you so he can enter you.

His first thrust is not at all gentle, burying him to the hilt in your hot, slick cunt. You both cry out from the fullness, at how ready your cunt is for him.

‘Look at you clenching around me, such a needy, desperate little slut,’ Vyn purrs, painfully dragging out his first few thrusts so that despite your limited range of movement, you are squirming and begging for more.

‘More,’ You beg. ‘Please, Vyn, I need more.’

‘You will get more when I decide you deserve more,’ Vyn warns, slowing his hips even more, the promise of more friction hanging just out of reach. ‘It’s my turn to enjoy myself.’

You cry out in frustration, and are met with a ringing slap on your ass, the pain tingling deliciously.

‘Can’t be helped,’ he sighs, pretending that you have forced him to this point, when you can tell that it is taking all of his own self-control not to just thrust into you with wild abandon. ‘You’re forcing me to play my hand, you naughty little thing. Do you want to see me lose control?’

He punctuates the last sentence with a vicious thrust, going deeper than before and making you squeal. The sound makes him stop, and he reaches beside you for a napkin.

‘I think we need to work on your silence,’ Vyn says, hips still moving gently while his hands have left your hips and are doing something else. He leans down, pressing his weight against you and hand coming toward your face with the folded napkin.

‘Open your mouth,’ he tells you, then puts the napkin delicately between your teeth. ‘Now, bite down. If you let the napkin fall, I can only assume it is because you intend on using our safe word, and in any event, that would mean our little game is over. If you want to continue, your only choice is to behave yourself.’

You bite down on the cloth napkin, and Vyn cocks his head sideways to look at your trapped face, giving you a wink before returning to his position behind you. He starts off with slow thrusts again, searching for the right angle, hips snapping leisurely into your ass, the sound of skin on skin turning you on more, if that was even possible. Your soft moans are muffled by the napkin, which is slowly soaking with saliva.

‘Such a good girl,’ Vyn cooes as he thrusts deeply and you give a low, dull moan, trying to stifle your noises. ‘Let’s see how you do under more difficult conditions.’

He reaches down to grasp a handful of your hair, pulling your head upwards so that your spine is arched like a bow, and begins moving faster, each thrust of his cock a blinding shaft of light in equal parts pain and pleasure. If anyone were to walk in on you both right now, or even listen in on what was happening, they would hear a symphony of moaning, Vyn growling to tell you what a good girl you are, how well you are taking his cock, as if you were made for him. Your hands behind your back, back impossibly arched as he grips onto your hair, subject to the pleasure that is invading every part of your body.

Vyn’s thrusts grow harder and more needy, and your cunt has begun to spasm, craving sweet release.

‘I want to see your face when I make you cum,’ He rasps, and then pulls out, flipping you effortlessly onto your back, hair spilling out in all directions. Your arms are crushed behind your back, but the pain of your stretching shoulder joints is welcome, only adding to your pleasure. He is stretched out on top of you, mouth hungry, diving for your breasts, teasing your nipple with his tongue, hand reaching down to rub your clit in agonising circles, then slipping back inside you and groaning at the sensation. You cling on to the napkin for dear life, terrified that if you drop it, he might really stop, and leave you empty and wanting, just like that.

But Vyn doesn’t stop. His eyes locked onto your face, he rubs your clit ceaselessly as he pounds into you, again and again in a vicious, desperate pace.

‘Come for me, my love,’ he whispers, and like that, you are undone, waves of pleasure crashing through your body as your cunt clenches, legs shaking from the effort. A few more hard thrusts and Vyn joins you, thrusting deeply inside you one last time and then collapsing, his cock still throbbing as it fills you with cum.

He only allows himself a few moments before quickly sitting you up to undo the restraints around your wrist, examining them for chafing, pressing a light kiss to each one when he finds you perfectly well and unharmed.

‘Was I too rough?’ Vyn asks, hurrying to hand you his jacket. You shake your head, a mischievous grin on your face as you refuse to drop the napkin between your teeth. He blushes and removes it. You stretch your jaw a few times, which is slightly sore from clenching so hard, but will be fine in a few moments.

‘Please, Vyn, I would have used the safe word if I was being hurt.’ You reassure him. ‘The only thing I regret is that I’m probably too tired to go through all that again.’

‘Too tired?’ Vyn’s smirk returns. ‘I hope not. There’s still a fireplace and a floor full of furs waiting for us.’

In the blink of an eye, you are swept up in his arms, and he is carrying you to the door, like a bride over the threshold of her new home. He hasn’t even bothered to put on any clothes, trousers long forgotten, and his dress shirt hanging loose.

‘Vyn,’ you say, an idea suddenly coming into your mind. ‘You knew I wouldn’t be able to keep quiet, didn’t you?’

‘I will neither confirm nor deny my initial hypothesis,’ Vyn says. ‘But let’s just say, the outcome was above and beyond what I expected.’

As he carries you to the hall and the fireplace, two of his fingers have secretly slipped into your cunt once again, and you sneak a glance at him, grinning.

#tears of themis #tears of themis smut #vyn tears of themis #vyn richter #vyn richter x reader #vyn richter smut #vyn tot #tot imagines #tot smut #mo yi #mo yi x reader #VERY loose canon interpretation (haven't played all the cards)#okay listen LISTEN i am obsessed with the fact that vyn is always playing mind games and testing people esp mc in early game #my vision of him is always negotiating that space of trust #wanting you to trust him more and more and completely giving yourself to him #and because you are so competitive you /want/ to pass all his tests #anyway even though it's been almost 10 years deathless still has a strong grip on my heart everyone go read it

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