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ghostofthings · 2 years

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Being the love of Lord Morpheus’ life would be like... Part 2 - “Difference between shiny and bright”

First part is here if you are interested! - Additional part is also here! Part 3 is here! - Part 3 additional part is here! Part 4 is here! Thank you for lovely feedback, you all made me so happy :) I came back with a loooong part for u!

Let me know if you’d want an another part, I have something in mind! I’ll leave a preview for it. I planned this to be a centuries old love story kinda thing so we have a lot to cover :)

Pairing: Lord Morpheus x f!goddess!reader

warning: ***major history changes and mythology mix****

tag list: @guccirosegold @wt-fxck

- “Perhaps you would be gracious enough to accompany me for a chalice of wine my lady?” Such a direct proposal would usually considered as crossing the line but since he was a much higher being than you, odds of saying “no” to him seemed impossible. “I can be my lord, only if you would be indulgent enough to tell how a strange idea such as a wooden horse changed the course of events.” He grabbed one of the empty chalices on the table and turned to you with a coy smile. “Very well, let us enjoy each others stories then.”

- He knew more that you do, that was evident. The way he looked at you, the way he was so confident around you make you feel relaxed for the first time in your life. You were the commander of the Olympus army and you had to take care of too many things. Being around someone who is as responsible as you are was a new thing for you.

- You poured him wine as well and you sat at one of many balconies of your giant family castle. It suddenly felt so domestic to you, pouring him wine while he was also holding yours for you to fill it as well. You could see everyone laughing and enjoying their night from the distance of silence and calm night sky. You could hear sweet melodies filling the air, joyful tunes coming from your talented relatives instruments. You could feel his engulfing, burning gaze on you.

- “An Endless rarely grace their presence to our festivities my Lord. Is there a reason you are here?” “Yes, there is.” “Is it more than enjoying our hospitality during a victorious night?” His eyes seemed brighter for a second. You could see that ghost of a smile returned to his beautiful lips. “I’m pleased to say yes my lady, it is much more than that.”

-Of course you did not know Morpheus knew who you were since long ago, since his older brother visited you. You had no idea how many times he protected you against your enemies, ill intended suitors, jealous family members who wished for your demise. Wishing to feel your touch when you caress kids heads to say good night and getting furious over secret dreams of some gods who were placing you as their object of desire. And nightmares they had to endure afterwards.

- You were so very clearly belong to him. He waited nearly a century to be invited in Olympus and finally had a chance to meet you. He inspired many art lovers to devote their pieces to you to honor you. He created dreams with many resemblances of you even without noticing.

- “I understood all that but why a horse my lord? Why not a magnificent beast instead? That’d surely made Troy except it much more eagerly.” “I disagree. A gift that spectacular would not carry the notion of crushing defeat which was needed to convince Troy.” Of course he was right. While you were amazed by his shrewd intelligence he added with a shrug: “Also I rather enjoy horses more than beasts.”

- “Socrates is not a madman. He might be peculiar but his mind is far beyond than his mortal ages. Mortals think of him as a fool but I do believe he will leave his mark in history.” Morpheus seemed very proud of his discovery in Socrates. He was also happy that you knew who he was and equally impressed by his mind. After a brief silence you caught him off guard for the first time that night.

- “You are quite different than your siblings my lord.” “... Have you met them?” “One can see many things if she looks into the night. I saw behind close doors, privacy of chambers. I’m familiar with their handywork.” Morpheus looked a little tense since you were choosing your words very carefully not to give him a direction about where you were leading this conversation. “And how am I different than them, my lady?” You could see his main worry was you being afraid of him. He knew his position, as an Endless his family was respected but also feared.

- “You have a raven, always had one. It is safe to assume they are residing in your realm, therefore you may most probably have other beings which occupy it as well since you called it a ‘kingdom’. Death cannot have any since her lands nature, Desire is incapable of taking care of any other but themselves, Despair would not want a company, Delirium is not dependable or responsible enough for it, again since her nature, Destruction is bothered by systems or order so he would not prefer inhabitance. If Destiny had any, that would not because of his wish but because he must. Therefore by this educated guess; I think we can safely assume you are the only Endless who welcomes residents in their realm. Am I mistaken, my lord?”

- For the first time in centuries Lord Morpheus, Dream of the Endless, Ruler of dreams and nightmare realms was speechless. He knew you were wise but he could not even imagine you could make such a solid deduction based on the little information at hand about the Endless.

- “Do not misunderstand me, my lord, I think this is an admirable difference you have in comparison with your siblings. It pleases me to know you have such care and responsibility for other beings as much as I do if not more.” Now you had a coy smile, knowing you stunned him with your sharp wit. For a moment you were afraid he will walk away but instead his eyes shone and he spoke with a graceful smile: “I knew the Lady of the Moon was wise but I must confess even I could not have foreseen this much.”

- While he was drinking honey wine with you in that magnificent balcony, for the first time in his existence he felt like he found a lover who holds the same values as him. Unbending responsibility to their duties, understanding their reason of existence. Someone who’d not want him to abandon all of his responsibilities for her love but instead would love him even more for his work and how passionately he does it. Someone who would love and respect him not because of the love he gives to her, but also for the love he gives to his purpose. While sitting in front of him for the first time in your life you felt shy. He wasn’t just looking at you, it felt like he was seeing through you.

- Words started to come easier after you knew you earned his respect. Not only for your beauty but also because of your mind. In a short time you found yourself excitedly opening up to him about your admiration to the famous dream of Gudea, Sumerian priest king which he was so touched by it he told everyone and even recorded it in cuneiform. Morpheus was trying to stay stoic but you could understand he was flattered by his slightly reddened cheeks.

- “I thank you, my lord. For helping humanity to avoid their demise.” He raised an eyebrow with a coy smile to your comment. “My family forgotten the difference between shiny and bright. They only care shiny trinkets, not the brightness of soul.” He stayed silent because he knew that’d make you turn to face him once more. And you did. “I’d grant every wish for you, my lady. Think of it as an act of gratitude for your grace. Sleep always comes easier at night, therefore I work much more satisfied with you by my side.”

- There was nothing inappropriate, excessive or provocative in his words but somehow they affected you in a way you never felt before. His every word had an underlying meaning, a hidden whisper was surrounding them. You wanted to ask what he means, ask how he’s doing this. Instead you smiled politely and thanked him for his kind words, “My lord is being too kind for a mere goddess such as I.”

- He knew you were destined to love him as he was to love you. No worry or doubt had any place between you and him. So he did not have a single reservation while he raised his hand and caress your cheek. His fingers barely touched you and yet it felt like his touch was the most familiar thing. So right, so warm, so habitual. You closed your eyes while your fingers were holding your cup a little bit tighter. His finger went down from your cheek to your neck, caressed your collarbone along the way. They continued their journey to your shoulder, going down slowly by your arm and finally enveloping your hand gently. You forced yourself to open your eyes when you heard him speaking again.

- “I cannot allow you to call yourself that while you leave everyone else in the dark with your brightness and guiding me in the darkness just like the moon.” His voice, his words, his touch were so intense. You felt you were drowning in them. You held his hand in yours and you knew you were in love. You were in love with him for a very long time. You were just waiting for him to come to you.

- When music finally ended and crowd let themselves rest on soft grass in their drunken state, you were in a deep conversation about a young writer, Sophocles. You were the one who made Morpheus aware of the young mans talent and passion to create stories. He promised you that he’ll pay him a visit following night and inspire him to create masterpieces. You were so proud of him since he was one of your favorite humans. He would always write at night and had a habit of reading them to the moon. You did not know that Morpheus was the happiest in eons that night. For the first time one of his lovers was directly contributing to his work, inspiring him.

- While you were sitting together, holding hands and gazing into each others eyes, talking for hours, you knew you were belong to each other. It was such a comforting feeling, being enveloped by a gentle love.

- When the night came to an end and it was time for him to go back to the Dreaming he kissed your hand so gently and yet passionately. For the first time in your life you felt the yearning to go with him, not to be apart from someone. His hand reached to your face and caress your cheek again. He pulled you impossibly close to him by your neck, you could feel his hot breath on your lips. You wanted him to close the gap and give you the first kiss of your existence. Of course he could read it from your shine, very easy for him. Instead he brought his lips so close to yours, almost touching distance and whispered with his deep voice: “Good night my love. You can call to me whenever you wish and I will come to you.”

- When he withdrew from you, your eyes were still closed and you followed his lips involuntarily. Missing the closeness, warmth and excitement. When you opened your eyes a smug smile was adorning his beautiful face. You felt shy again. You were a logical, calm and collected being, but apparently one could not be the same as she was with others when she was with her lover.

- He held your gaze until he disappeared between sand while the sun was rising and a moonless night came to an end. For the first time you were joyful and happy and so very much in love. You knew that your jealous cousins will try to hurt you, envious goddesses who are famous for their beauty will say poisonous things to you. They will try to gain the favor of the Lord of Dreams and lure him away from you. But right at that moment you were feeling invincible, you were the one holding his magnetic gaze and his precious heart.

.....

preview for the next part:

* “But life has always been a cruel thing and you were about to face your first suffering. Fates were never known to be compassionate. Also greedy gods can be too keen to test the limits of a seemingly unbreakable bound.”

#morpheus x reader #morpheus imagines #morpheus headcanons #dream of the endless #dream of the endless imagine #the sandman imagine #sandman x reader #sandman headcanons #sandman netflix #lord morpheus #dream imagine #dream headcanons #dream x reader

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tatterings · 7 months

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Lamentable is the Autumn Picker Content with Plums - Chapter 8 - "To Wrest Out the Weeds"

Pairing: Astarion/Halsin

Rating: PG?

Tags/warnings: Spoilers to mid/late Act 2. Some trauma discussion but overall no warnings.

Word count: 4,900

Note: This is the eigth chapter of first ever fanfiction!

I’ve also posted this on AO3. Fic under the cut.

Author’s note: In the interest of not getting burned out by the details so that I can complete this romantic saga, I’ve skipped the House of Healing quest to get Art Cullagh’s lute. Instead, he had it with him when the Fists found him. Yay! I hope the artistic liberty doesn’t take you too much from the storyline. We all wanna get to the good good in a decent time, I think? ;)

******

A deep rothé’s hooves in full-gallop was a whisper compared to the furious thunder that had been Halsin’s heartbeat, prior to pressing his lips to Astarion’s. His thoughts had poured like a spring storm’s deluge: all at once, overflowing the borders of creek beds and convention. He had felt like he nearly lost himself amidst a flash flood of desire.

The druid had seen a piece of himself reflecting in Astarion’s ruby eyes; the beast of uncertainty and fear that plagued him. Plagues him, with how tall his self-defensive walls had become. When the vampire had admitted his concern over the druid’s life, Halsin considered perhaps it was safe to let the brittle scaffolding fall.

Astarion had allowed their lips to touch with no resistance; no distaste. To the druid’s pleasant surprise, the vampire had leaned into the second tender kiss.

“I am here with you now, Astarion. And I will always return to your side,” the druid had said, in earnest, shortly after. Both men had huffed in silence for a few moments, lips an owlbear’s feather apart, before Halsin felt he had breath enough to speak again.

“Self-doubt is a devious thing, my heart. And rarely do we plant the seed of it ourselves,” Halsin said, pulling his face away slightly to speak. The druid’s hand rose to Astarion’s chin, his calloused thumb tracing the vampire’s lower lip. How beautiful it was, plump and reddened after their lips had met; he ached to kiss him again. “I have found that its roots grow to strangle one’s heart and mind. I do not wish that for you.”

Astarion had kept his eyes on Halsin’s lips as he spoke, snowy eyebrows knit upwards. He finally spoke after taking a breath; in and out, like Halsin had done in front of him hundreds of times. His breath was cool on the druid’s palm.

“Y-ou..,” stammered Astarion, his murmur so low that Halsin could barely hear it; or even feel the vibrations of the vampire’s voice in his palm. “You say you wish to be at my side, But you don’t want to acknowledge the…complications of who and what I am. I’m not a good person, Halsin. Not like you,” the vampire said, his effervescent, false laugh escaping him. “Truly, I’m barely a person at all; not as you are. The vast majority of my life I have been this,” Astarion said, his face momentarily obscured by a swoop of his delicate fingers towards himself.

His eyelids fluttered closed, ivory eyelashes resting on his now-rosy cheeks. Halsin felt heat rush to his groin as he cared for the man wrapped in his arms; not from lust, but from passion, desire, to care for the smaller man. He embraced the pale elf tighter and leaned his forehead against Astarion’s.

“You are the most incredible person, Astarion. And I want to be beside you. I want to know every bit of who you are, who you were, and who you will be,” the druid replied.

Halsin’s heartbeat slowed to a steady rhythm as he let fall his emotional scaffolding. “I want your humor, your playfulness, your lust for new experiences. I want to wake from my trances to your Blood Moon gaze,” Halsin said, his voice husky and low with fondness. “I want even your wounds, to know your scars, and I want to share with you my own. As my partner; if you would have me.”

Astarion had stared wordlessly as the druid spoke, His eyes had scanned over Halsin’s face with the same uncertainty of a wild deer ready to bolt. At Halsin’s gentle reassurance, as reliable as the changing of the seasons, the vampire’s shoulders drooped. Astarion had assessed his lack of threat to be true. The pale elf leaned his face into Halsin’s large palm, bumping into it with his nose and lips.

“I think…” Astarion said softly, raising his gaze to meet Halsin’s agonizingly slowly. “I think I would like that.” He pulled his arms from between their torsos and wrapped them around Halsin’s neck. Halsin relished in the feeling, goosebumps forming on his skin at Astarion’s cool touch. “May I stay with you tonight? Even.. even if it’s just to rest?” Astarion asked as he nosed into the crook of Halsin’s collarbone and his neck, the tips of his ears flushing near-violet.

Halsin blinked back moisture that welled at the corners of his eyes. “I would love nothing more than to wake with you in my arms,” he rumbled, pulling Astarion’s torso against his, nestling his face into the smaller elf’s snowy curls.

*********

For the first night since they had reached the shadow-cursed lands, Astarion had experienced a fully restful trance-state. Through feeding he was refreshed; through feelings, reassured.

Astarion had spent the night cuddled beside Halsin, with one of the larger elf’s arms wrapped around his waist. Prior to bedding down, Halsin had admitted, color rising to his cheeks, that he generally slept “as nature created him”. But the druid insisted on wearing at least his trousers while sharing the bedroll for the evening. Astarion had remained fully clothed; too raw of a wound was the idea of baring his back scars to the druid.

Before Astarion fell asleep, he’d found himself tracing his hands lazily across Halsin’s barrel chest, his fingers raking through the druid’s thick chest hair. He had no need for a pillow, when the druid’s well-muscled pectorals served just as well. His muscles had finally fallen lax from his toes to the tips of his pointy ears, as his mind dwelled on Halsin’s oaths of loyalty and companionship. He had found a smile forming on his lips. For once, someone desired Astarion as more than a beautiful night of distraction; and all the better that someone was the druid Halsin.

The pale elf had felt himself flush, at the memory alone. He’d shivered in delight and slight embarrassment, and had hidden his rosy face in the crook of Halsin’s arm. Astarion was intoxicated by the druid’s musk. The scent of cedarwood and lemongrass had been calming, allowing him to slip into his trance with no resistance.

Astarion had awoken with a smile for the first time in 200 years; no pollution rotted through his marrow, even after sharing a bed with another being. He had not been forced, nor asked, to exchange his body for companionship; it was freely given, freely received.

As they both exited the tent in the morning, Halsin had held the tent flap open for Astarion with one hand, waving a greeting to the other adventurers. Shadowheart was fully dressed, eager to get moving. She sat to the side, fidgeting with the relic that protected them from the mindflayers. Gale had prepared the most basic of flat breads, as flour and water made the most of their provisions. Regardless of the simplicity, Wyll had torn through several with great pleasure, giving Gale a thumbs up as he broke his fast. Karlach, ever kinder than she ought to be, had insisted the unseasoned pancakes were delicious, though she tossed most to Scratch when she thought no one was looking. Lae’zel had passed on breakfast, instead holding out for the promise of protein and more options at Last Light Inn; they would arrive by mid-morning if they kept a brisk pace.

****************

Their journey to Last Light Inn had been easier than expected; most of the trek had been downhill, with the main risk being trip hazards on jagged rocks and broken cobblestones. Shadowheart’s Light spells had dispatched the odd shade here and there; what she didn’t destroy had been felled by Gale’s Magic Missiles, tossed haphazardly over his shoulder as they trekked. They had seen a gigantic dome in the distance, glowing white on the horizon. Last Light Inn.

Upon their arrival, they were greeted by Jaheira and her unshakeable skepticism. Although her innate distrust of strangers in a strange land was well-warranted; even more so when the majority of them were infected by mindflayer tadpoles. But, at the urging of her Harpers who they had partnered with in battle, as well as a character witness from the Tiefling child Mol, the adventurers had been welcomed with open arms.

Jaheira had shared with Halsin and the others the intelligence she had gained whilst battling Absolutists: Ketheric Thorm was indeed resurrected; and even worse, seemed to be immortal. He and his forces had gathered at Moonrise Towers, so it was fortunate the adventurers had decided to venture to Last Light first. She informed them of their powerful allies at the Inn. The spell enchantment protecting Last Light and its visitors was cast by Isobel; a Selûne cleric who, despite Shadowheart’s complaint, had provided them a blessing to safely travel the shadow-cursed lands. She had shared Jaheira’s kind offer of a place of rest and respite for the evening.

Halsin had appreciated their generosity; including their kindness to the acquaintances he’d made in the Grove. Many of the Tieflings they had sheltered amidst his druid followers had made it to Last Light. It unburdened his heart to see that many had been saved from both the wrath of the goblins and ravages of the curse. They had reunited with Alfira, the Tiefling bard, as well as Mol, who’d perfected the pick-pocketing skills Astarion had taught her. A few hours after arrival, Halsin had been bemused when he reached into his pocket to retrieve his newest whittling project and only found a crumpled piece of parchment that said “Thanks bear man!”.

Halsin and his new friends took advantage of the Harper’s hospitality to enjoy a short rest in the center of the inn. Shadowheart pouted in the corner on a plush armchair, glaring daggers at Isobel who sat on the mezzanine above. Her fingernails picked at the pointed corners of the relic. Karlach, desperate for a frosted pitcher of beer, settled for a lukewarm glass of ale and joined Lae’zel and Wyll near the front of the inn. The trio listened intently as Jaheira shared stores of past triumphs. Gale pored over his spell books in the reading room adjacent, stroking a sphynx cat named His Majesty; he had won the hairless cat’s favor by offering him a saucer of milk.

Halsin enjoyed a mug of lemon balm tea at the bar beside Astarion, who sipped from a glass of wine as they both pored over their current reading material. The drone of tavern discussion and clink of the Harper’s armor was melodic white noise in contrast to the unnatural silence of the shadow-cursed lands.

The druid’s large hand slowly dropped from the well-polished bar top to rest on Astarion’s inner thigh. His thumb lazily stroked back and forth along Astarion’s leather-clad leg. He squeezed the vampire’s thigh gently, relishing in his partner’s well-defined muscles.

Astarion peered up from his book, a smirk pulling at his lips. He met Halsin’s gaze through his long ivory eyelashes. “Something the matter, darling? Did you come upon a word that is too long for you?” he teased, knowing full-well that Halsin’s skill in and enjoyment of the written word matched his own. Astarion crawled a hand up Halsin’s side to tickle under his armpit. Halsin squirmed to escape Astarion’s slender fingers as a chuckle burst from his lips; he was horribly ticklish.

“Astarion, you are incorrigible,” Halsin said, beaming at his companion, his voice effervescent with laughter. “No, I am quite fine, although I am struggling to focus on my research.”

Halsin wrapped his thick arm around Astarion to grasp the edge of the vampire’s barstool; with one hand he pulled it closer to his own. The druid’s hand lingered on Astarion’s hip; their thighs touched, and Halsin’s skin prickled with goosebumps.

“I find myself concerned that my imagination is playing tricks on me. I needed to touch you and make sure I was not in a dream,” Halsin said, his voice low and husky, lips brushing against the tips of the pale elf’s ears. “You have my stomach in knots, Astarion, like some heartsick ninety-year-old.” The druid pulled his hand from Astarion’s hip reluctantly, tracing his fingers up the vampire’s back.

Before Halsin could lift his mug for a sip of his tea, Astarion flashed the large elf a toothy grin and wrapped himself around Halsin’s arm, placing his cool cheek against the druid’s biceps. Halsin’s goosebumps flared again as they savored the intimacy of the mundane.

**********

Faerunian adventurers rarely enjoyed routine comforts for long; this day was no different. Their reverie was shattered by an anguished groan which echoed from elsewhere in Last Light Inn.

The druid started, jostling Astarion on his stool; the pale elf had almost slipped into a trance, so comforting was the druid’s body heat. Halsin immediately rose from his stool, bracing each of Astarion’s shoulders as he stood. The druid didn’t need to speak; his furrowed brows and lips drawn thin spoke volumes of his intentions to save the day.

Astarion set loose a groan of his own, his upper lip curling to bare his fangs. “Must we always go to investigate? Can’t we let some other person save the day?” he whined, throwing his head back in frustration.

Halsin’s fine auburn hair fell in front of his shoulders as he leaned forward to assess the origin of the sound. His movements were almost ursine; Astarion was certain that if his ears could perk forward, the druid would look even more like a bear in elven form. Halsin’s eagerness to help others was endearing until it conflicted with Astarion’s comfort.

“It’s coming from the room beside us,” Astarion drawled, nodding his head towards a nearby door as he rose from his barstool.

Since they’d arrived at the inn, his ears had picked up on softer, almost inaudible muttering and moaning. Another vampiric ‘gift’: heightened senses that benefitted a night-walker. But it was not his business to investigate whether the utterances were from lovers under covers or someone lying on their deathbed. Until, of course, his noble fool dragged him into yet another situation. He could not resist prodding at the druid.

“You know, Halsin, with how often you insist on indulging your curiosity, I’m surprised your preferred wildshape isn’t some sort of wildcat,” Astarion said as he strode to the door, kicking his shoes along the wooden floor. It was smooth beneath his leather-soled boots, polished from hundreds of years of visitors.

Halsin’s intense focus broke as he followed his partner. “Ah, but it is said that curiosity kills a cat. As far as I’m aware, no one has ever rhymed about what it could do to a bear,” the druid said with a deep chuckle and jovial grin.

“If it would deter you from playing hero, I would happily author one,” Astarion replied, a laugh falling from his upturned lips. He winked at Halsin and opened the door, stepping back to allow the large druid passage. Astarion stifled another snicker when Halsin dipped his forehead to not slam it into the doorframe.

The room was mixed use; maps and battle plans littered the top of a large table that took up half the room. Members of the Flaming Fist were scattered throughout the large space, presumably planning. A dozen beds flanked the other side of the room, only one of which was occupied. Several Fists stood around the bedside of a man who hummed deliriously, tossing about his sweat-drenched linens. Astarion exhaled forcefully and rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger; this was not his business.

Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back, Astarion thought. Butting into others’ business obliterated the bear? No, that saying won’t do. He leaned against the wall, his pink lips in a pout and arms crossed.

“Who is this man?” Halsin asked gently of the female Fist at the bedside. She recognized Halsin’s demeanor and clothing as druidic - a potential healer. The spark of hope provided a flurry of animation to her speech as she informed the duo of how they found the man - stumbling, delirious, wandering in the shadow-cursed lands.

Halsin nodded intently as she spoke and inspected the man’s condition. They only knew that he was a fellow Flaming Fist, and that his name was Art Cullagh.

“Art. Hail, Art!” Halsin beckoned, gently shaking the shoulder of the unconscious man. There was no response from him, besides a groan that morphed into a hum. Halsin hovered his great hands over Art’s prone body. Magic manifested in a viridian glow, dancing about his hands before settling along Art’s body. The sparkles melted like snowflakes onto his feverish skin.

He seemed to rouse only slightly, his groans transforming into intelligible words. “Thaniel and me, climb climbing up a tree… and see what we see.. do as we.. please.”

Astarion had intended to brood moodily in the corner while Halsin played hero; but he nearly lost his balance as the word “Thaniel”. He swooped to Halsin’s side, his steps so soft they were inaudible.

Halsin, too, had picked up the name, and he bent himself closer to the ill man. Art’s humming continued. “We see shadows, they get darker, but our hiding place is brighter. We are fearsome black and red, we are living, they are dead,” Art sang, to no particular melody. Sweat poured from his brow, soaking his bandages and the bedding below him. The Flaming Fist at his side soaked his forehead with a cool towel.

“His mind has been gripped by the shadows, but he’s met Thaniel. There’s no other way he’d know that name,” Halsin said, his speech quick and breathy with excitement. “He must know something about where to find Thaniel. If he could escape the Shadowfell, it must not have been able to consume his spirit. Or not all of it, at least. We need to rouse whatever’s left of him inside his head. There must be something to trigger him - a word, a memory, an item.” The druid held his chin in his hands as he studied the delirious man.

“Did he have any personal effects when you found him?�� Halsin asked the Flaming Fist tending to Art. His braids shook from behind his ears as the druid scanned the room for clues.

“Oh, yes actually! He had a few things with him. A letter, for one. And a lute, although it has seen better days,” she said, inclining her head to Art’s belongings on the opposite side of the bed.

Never one to pass on the opportunity to rifle through another person’s property, Astarion stepped to the bedside opposite Halsin. The head of a lute protruded from beneath the blankets; Astarion wrapped his hand around the neck of the instrument and pulled it free.

The wood of the instrument was weathered with age; its protective shellac had long worn off. Astarion’s nimble fingers traced the wood grain, pausing at an unusual pattern on the body. The initials “A.C.'' were inscribed on it in meticulous script. After his brief inspection, Astarion held it out to Halsin.

********

Halsin shook his head at Astarion’s offer of the instrument. “No, I need to have both my hands free, in case our friend here needs a healing spell,” he said, his expression apologetic. “Would you mind strumming its strings for us?”

“Darling, I’m no bard. Nor can I carry a tune; Cazador banned us from humming or whistling, even,” Astarion said, holding the lute away from his body as though it were a wild animal liable to attack him.

“It’s a better idea than anything else that has been tried,” Halsin said, feeling a smirk spread across his lips at the opportunity to fluster the pale elf. “Besides, you have dexterous hands, Astarion, I’ve seen how well you pick locks and mend clothing. Go on, play us a tune.”

“Fine,” Astarion replied, his pointed ears blushing. Halsin’s eyes were drawn to his plush lips, which protruded in a soft pout. Through half-lidded eyes, he maintained Halsin’s gaze; it was clear the vampire would only perform the request to humor him.

Astarion held the fretboard with one hand and strummed the instrument with his other. Art did not stir at the sound. The pale elf raised the lute to his side, and with a haphazard swipe of his fingers, pulled more noise from its strings. “Would you like an encore, darl-”

“Thaniel!,” Art Cullagh yelled, sitting bolt upright. “He’s still trapped there - he needs help!” Halsin’s shoulders had jerked back at the man’s unexpected movement. He lowered himself to sit at Art’s side and placed his large hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Calm, my friend. Breathe,” the Arch Druid said, giving Art’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “You’ve been trapped in the Shadowfell for a century. Take a moment to clear your mind.”

“A century…” Art started, and rubbed the sweat from his brow, “You must be Halsin. Thaniel said you find you! He’s somewhere in there still…you must find lavender. Whenever I saw Thaniel, I always smelled lavender.” Art’s eyes darted about to take in his surroundings; they were ringed with purple and wide in concern. Halsin nodded and helped Art recline back on the bed. Halsin’s stomach sank at how quickly the man tired; the Shadowfell had taken a terrible toll on his body.

“Thank you, my friend,” Halsin said, dipping his head low in appreciation. “If I ventured into the Shadowfell blind, I’d never find him. But I can work with that.” The druid raised his gaze to Astarion and nodded towards the exit. Astarion followed behind Halsin, his brows furrowed in confusion, and the vampire pulled the door closed as they left.

The druid’s long strides carried him quickly to the exit of the inn. Halsin paused at the entrance and raised two fingers to his lips. His eyes flickered to Astarion, who understood the intention; the vampire plugged his sensitive ears with his slender fingers. Halsin blew a sharp whistle to alert Gale, Wyll, and the rest. Once their heads turned his way, the druid waved them over, beckoning the other adventurers to follow him out the door.

“Devil’s teeth, Halsin, where are we going?” spat Astarion, nearly jogging to keep pace with the long-legged Halsin. He hadn’t intended on exercising, and his leather armor became sticky with sweat.

“To the lakeshore, my heart,” Halsin said, glancing at the pale elf at his side. Besides the Astarion, only Karlach was right beside the druid. The tiefling enjoyed her normal walking pace, while the other adventures tailed behind Halsin at a brisk trot, their armor and swords jangling with the movement.

As they reached the lakeside, they gathered atop a large rock outcropping. Halsin rounded to face his friends, raising his hands in hopeful celebration. “I have what we need to save Thaniel, my friends,” Halsin explained. He inhaled deeply before he continued; he made eye contact with each adventure. “I can infiltrate the Shadowfell, but the means to do so will sap my strength. I will need your help. This may prove… perilous.”

*********

Astarion’s chest tightened and felt heavy, as though an owlbear had landed upon it; he held one slender hand on his sternum, picking the stitching of his armor with his sharp fingernails. His ruby eyes darted across Halsin’s face, seeking reassurance once more from his druid.

“It took me years of study, of seeking the oak fathers favor to find a way to part the veil. Pray that this works, my friends,” Halsin said, turning to face the lake.

The large druid bowed in reverence, his palms facing upward in front of him as they glimmered with amber magic. “Oak Father, hear me, aid me! Force open the jaws of darkness, and make passage for your vessel of light,” Halsin said, and the golden light in his fists exploded, expanded, and shot from the druid’s hands. The portal between realms shimmered and hummed with druidic magic.

“Halsin, what in the hells are you doing?” Astarion spat, a scowl forming on his lips. The hair on his arms stood on end from the magic emitted by the portal.

Halsin sighed, his shoulders visibly dropping. “I assure you this is no druidic grandstanding,” Halsin started, his voice heavy and sober. He spoke loudly so his voice would carry to the rest of the adventurers over the thrumming of the portal. “I need you to stay here and keep the portal open. This magic is fragile. I…I must infiltrate the Shadowfell alone.”

For the second time in a matter of hours, Astarion nearly lost his balance as he stood in place. He adjusted his position on the angled rock and took a few steps to be within feet of the druid. “Alone? We talked about this. You said you won’t do things alone anymore,” he said, his voice pitched with worry.

Halsin held out his hand, nearly touching Astarion’s chest. “I am not alone, my heart. I have you to help me; outside the portal. This has to be me, and only me,” the druid insisted, his voice firm. “But I need your help with this. If there is any interference with the portal, then our once chance is lost forever. And so am I. You must defend this portal at all costs.”

“Absolutely not; going alone is suicide,” Astarion shot back, more venom in his words than he intended. He felt a mist forming at the corners of his eyes as he clenched his fists at his sides.

*****

Halsin reached Astarion in two wide steps, his brows furrowed deeply as he met the vampire’s blood-moon gaze. Astarion took a half-step back as the larger elf reached where he stood; the vampire seemed intimidated by Halsin’s severe expression. It was a harsh juxtaposition to his tenderness of their prior evening.

“Astarion, listen to me.I need you here,” Halsin paused, raising his large hands to rest upon the vampire’s shoulders. “I would rather have you by my side, but this is the only way.”

The larger elf slipped one hand to the small of the vampire’s back, pressing his body against the smaller elf’s frame. With the other hand he cupped Astarion’s angular jaw, his thumb gently brushing his bottom lip and cool cheek. Halsin leaned down, auburn braids falling from behind his ears as he pressed his forehead against his partner’s.

“I will return for you, Astarion,” Halsin said, his tone unwavering and gentle. He pulled back to gaze into the vampire’s ruby-red eyes, in which tears threatened to well over; they sparkled in the light from the portal. Halsin could lose himself in Astarion’s sweet, round gaze. But that would have to wait.

The druid tightened his hold on the vampire, pressing their bodies together with need. Halsin gathered the white curls at Astarion’s crown in a fist, and gently tilted Astarion’s head back. The pale elf rose to the tips of his toes, his slender fingers dancing up Halsin’s chest to wrap around his neck.

Astarion’s plump pink lips parted for Halsin as their mouths crashed together. The pale elf’s tongue couldn’t form the words to express how violent the vortex of anxiety engulfed him; but Astarion knew how to do so through his kiss. Astarion’s willing mouth held open, lips fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird. His eagerness for Hasin’s exploring tongue escaped him as a whimper.

Halsin lost himself in Astarion’s taste, the vampire’s cool tongue pulling a rumbled moan from deep in the large elf’s belly. Astarion drew back for a breath, peering at the druid with blown-out pupils. He then captured Halsin’s mouth once more, pulling the druid’s lower lip with his own, nipping at it with a pointed fang. Astarion whined softly into the kiss before releasing the druid from his embrace.

“Protect my way back to you, my heart,” Halsin said firmly; he would accept no argument, though his arms tightened around Astarion’s slender body. The druid placed a final kiss on Astarion’s forehead, the pale elf’s curls tickling his nose. He pried himself away from the vampire and held only Astarion’s chilly fingertips in both his large hands.

Halsin realized if he lingered any longer, his resolve would falter; he squeezed Astarion’s fingers, then turned on his heel to charge into the portal. He disappeared into its magic, which sparkled as it permitted his entrance.

*****

Astarion stood alone, facing the portal, willing his body to move. His hand was still outstretched where Halsin had held his fingers; he felt the portal’s magic crackle around his fingertips.

The vampire’s lips tingled still with the taste of the druid's kiss; faintly of plums and honey. Preemptive grief ate through Astarion’s insides and his knees threatened to collapse beneath him.

Behind him, shouts of spell names and the crunch of a mace on a shield signaled that the shadow-cursed creatures had spawned. They came for the portal.

#halstarion #halsin/astarion #astarion/halsin #astarion x halsin #ursaminor #halsin romance #astarion romance #astarion fanfiction #halsin fanfiction #halsin fanfic #astarion fanfic #bg3 #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #halsin x astarion

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feralbutfluffy · 8 months

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28. Aziraphale

Fury is an interesting thing.

It pumps adrenaline through the body, raising both heart rate and blood pressure, fueling a feeling that burns bright and brutal.

In the days of the Greek gods, fury was given form; the Eumenides were deities of vengeance, daughters of Nyx, with bat wings and bloodshot eyes.

Later, the Oxford Dictionary defined fury as, ‘extreme anger that often includes violent behaviour,’ and if that definition is accurate then it is true that Aziraphale had, so far, managed to always sidestep anything that might lead to that sort of trouble. Fury was a concept he had seen depicted in print, or in art, but it was something he had always observed from a safe distance.

Now, Aziraphale fairly glittered with it.

He had felt it begin to click into place from the moment Muriel had helped him establish the link to Crowley. The ache he had felt then - some warning of Crowley’s situation - had been a mournful cry for help, the kind of cry that echoes in silence and expects no reply, and fury had, for the first time, made itself known.

As soon as his eyes had locked on the broken figure of his dearest friend, it had enveloped him completely, closing over him like armour.

He could not seem to shake it off.

Something wild had surged in his chest as he’d surveyed the damage. He’d remembered Muriel’s earnest explanation of pyjamas as he’d taken in the tattered remnants of what had once been black silk trousers; Crowley’s only scrap of clothing. His mind had overlaid an image from the past over the image in his present…

His friend, then, sleek and stylish and hermetically wrapped in layers of charcoal and black.

His friend, now, half-naked and ripped to shreds, looking like he’d been hunted for sport.

And maybe he had.

He had wished for his flaming sword in that moment. He would have waited for those responsible and struck them down without a thought. But Saraqael had grounded him, reminded him of what needed to be done, and directed him during the healings. They had asked him to lift Crowley’s head, or move Crowley’s arm, or spread Crowley’s wing; directions that probably weren’t necessary outside of giving him something to do so that his mind didn’t splinter into maddened slivers of undiluted rage.

The urge to tear the place apart with his bare hands had been almost overwhelming. Instead, he had gritted his teeth and used those same hands to cradle Crowley’s head in his lap, his fingers catching in blood-matted snarls. He was hollowed out by sorrow, asphyxiated by anger, and the fury was inside him then, a stinging cold crawling through him until he shook with it.

Back at the bookshop, Aziraphale had knelt at Crowley’s side with a bowl of warm water and wiped away the blood with slow, gentle, deliberate strokes. Each bruise and scar revealed had stoked his rage. It had crystalised into something sharp and vicious and diamond-hard.

Afterwards, he had poured the water out in the sink and the colour of it had broken his heart.

Saraqael was a welcome ally. They didn’t conceal their disgust at the situation, just explained more fully what Aziraphale had already half-known; the Metatron had wanted to separate him from Crowley, believing them too powerful. Saraqael had been pragmatic about his choice to leave Earth.

“The Metatron used good bait. You were always a believer.”

“Yes.”

A sidelong glance. “I heard he spiked your earthly beverage with an extra shot of religious zeal just to be sure of your answer.”

“My coffee? ”

“Just a rumour. You probably would have made the same decision regardless. You’ve always been…” - Saraqael paused - “... eager.”

“But… But the Metatron succeeded. I was in Heaven. We weren’t even on speaking terms !”

The questions hung in the air unspoken. Why do this? Why take him?

“There was still contact, was there not?” Saraqael nodded their head towards the front of the shop. “Through Muriel? The two of you have never been able to keep away from each other for too long,” Saraqael wrinkled their nose in bewilderment. “God only knows why. Still, it did seem inevitable that perhaps a year from now, a decade from now, a century from now… you two would simply pick up where you left off. Unless… ”

“Unless.” Repeated Aziraphale dully.

“...Unless that possibility was eliminated.”

“But why Crowley? Why not me?”

Saraqael gave him a look that told him they wouldn’t be dignifying his question with an answer. Why would Heaven ever think to lose an angel to spare a demon?

Aziraphale had gone to Crowley then, bent his forehead to Crowley’s arm, silently begged for forgiveness, and Crowley had come to, startling him. He had warned Aziraphale away. He had warned him of danger he didn’t seem to realise was no longer present.

Aziraphale had stared at the thin white line that split his eyebrow and continued down his cheek, thought about his own failure to warn Crowley, and silently swallowed down the guilt threatening to choke him.

Or start from the top!

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thistransient · 8 months

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- I managed to log out of tumblr for a grand 24 hours or so. I wish I could say it made me more productive, but I tend to just look at reddit instead. To my credit I did do some reading before bed in place of scrolling, and actually attempted to work on my CV today... before the program crashed and everything was lost 🙄

- I finally bought a new phone, after my old one had gotten to a truly unendurable level of dysfunction (I told myself I simply could not go to job interviews with such a device, which for the past few months has been held together with tape and good fortune, taking at least five attempts to coax the screen on, refusing to run even two apps at once, and freezing at a rate the polar ice caps would envy...) The only benefit of waiting so long is that the regardless of what model I acquire, I'm always blown away by the most basic functionality, much less whatever technological advances have manifested in the past couple years (I am pleased this thing takes tolerable photos in low(er) light though).

- Today I met up with a new language exchange buddy I met while volunteering for the LGBT nonprofit. She picked a cafe I'd coincidentally been recommended by someone else because they used to host linocut classes (indeed the walls were full of interesting art). The reviews, though, suggested the baristas had an attitude, and thus I was a little apprehensive when the door was affixed with multiple signs proclaiming "Full, do not come in" in Chinese (my acquaintance had already staked out a table inside). I sustained some dubious looks upon entry before hastily explaining I was here to meet someone. I am quite sure the exorbitant price for a tiny sandwich was more of a fee for enjoying the atmosphere (and being graced with the presence of the intimidatingly aloof, attractive staff) than a reflection of the ingredients...

- Of course the one day I didn't bring an umbrella it started pouring as I was on the train, and while in theory I knew there was some sort of underground bookstore near Zhongshan Station, I'd never actually been in there, nor known how far the complex extended- it's huge! I was able to pop out of an exit quite near the café and make a swift dash for it. Later on I decided to go for a walk before getting on at a farther stop, and was treated to the sight of a middle aged man dressed all in black with a long ponytail and the wispiest of pompadours still arising proudly from his scalp mount a ludicrously large cruiser and rev it, the very picture of washed up motorcycle gangster...

- In totally unrelated news, the avocado pit I have been trying to sprout has put forth a root 🎉

- I may try to log out of tumblr more often, but never fear, the queue will go on for months even if I meet an untimely end crossing the road or something (as one does in Taiwan).

#to be fair it was a tolerable sandwich i just expected more of it #i need to go back to the Zhongshan underworld now #this language exchange was actually really fruitful cause i got some proper correction of my terrible tones #she was not afraid to go huh??? what are you trying to say?? at me

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unstablerk800 · 11 months

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Party Punch

Pairing: RK900/Fem!Reader, RK800/Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature (I'm lazy, everything is mature)

Warnings: none really, harmless fluff (wind down fic in between Soulless chapters, haha!)

Description: A hot priest and a hot vampire appears at the Halloween party and someone spiked the punch. That is definitely a recipe for disaster for you and your friend.

Word count: 2,988

Read on Ao3.

Chapter 1.: Nines 🔽

Chapter 2.: Connor

"Oh my God. Nines is here."

"No way!" Your friend gasped when she turned and noticed Nines enter the room.

You both had been teasing each other about the crush both of you had on the two androids at your station. Frankly, Nines was a piece of art; Connor already made both of you foam at the mouth but Nines's professionalism sealed it for you. Your friend had a raging crush on Connor but you were drawn to Nines instead. You often planned in private that she'd date Connor and you'd date Nines; it was a fun, harmless game you could fantasize about while you were between solving crimes. Talking about what sort of dates you two would go, how they'd like to do 'mundane human dates', wondering if they'd even enjoy it at all, and always coming to the conclusion that it'd never happen.

They were androids. They were made to solve crimes, not to mingle with humans. Even if they deviated.

And then Nines just showed up there at the Halloween party like he was doing you both a favour. You couldn't remember if anyone even invited him, but fuck, he was there, and...

"He dressed as a fucking priest", you had to look away to stifle the laughter that bubbled up in you, making it look like you were really interested in the muffins at the table behind you.

"A fucking hot priest", your friend added. "Oh my God he's really serving us all."

You couldn't help it. You burst into giggling.

"PILF!" The whisper escaped you and your friend giggled.

"What?"

"Priest I'd like to f-"

You didn't finish, and you didn't have to (your friend laughed uncontrollably anyway), just grabbed a muffin and stuffed it in your face. It was filled with chocolate and it tasted so much better than you expected.

You blamed your hormones and your undying horniness for Nines.

When you were ready, you turned to face the crowd again. There were quite a few interesting takes on what people figured would be a good costume; and some - like Hank Anderson - didn't even bother. Connor chose to be a vampire, his set complete with vampire fangs, an elegant black suit and a red-black cape; it was another running joke at the station because he kept sampling stuff at crime scenes and Hank started to call him thus. Gavin decided to be a cat - he looked uncharacteristically cute with his black cat ears and fluffy kitty tail and mittens.

Your friend decided to come as an angel. She had big fluffy wings attached to her back, a glittery-shiny halo over her head, and silver-pale blue makeup. She was gorgeous in her white dress.

And you? You were her friend, and naturally, you were a little devil. Dressed in a red dress similar to hers, with a devil's tail and devil's horns. Your makeup was fiery red with black glitter.

Now, it was twice as funny how Nines dressed up as a priest. He walked over to Connor to tell him something.

"Oh how I wish I could corrupt him", you sniggered to your friend and she giggled.

It was weird how they both looked at you two at the same time, but you both just blushed and pretended that something else was so much more interesting. Your eyes wandered at the party punch on another table, while your friend observed the paper bats that hung from the ceiling.

"Gonna get something to drink", you decided, "want some?"

"Yeah. Yeah, some punch sounds good."

You made a beeline for the table, swaying your hips to the music a bit with a little smile on your face. You were so excited for the party which got ten times more interesting - not because Nines showed up, of course not. You poured some punch in two glasses and walked back to your friend. You both sipped it at the same time, giggling to each other like two schoolgirls.

"I can taste real rum", your friend commented and you nodded.

Refill after refill, both of you were reduced to two giggling girls who kept to themselves at a corner, politely answering anyone who approached you two, but letting them leave - and always resuming to the topic of hot androids. You loved your friend because there was no harm in having fun with her; she teased you about Nines and you teased her about Connor, giggling and blushing to yourselves.

"I'm guessing we're not driving tonight", you giggled, "I could think of someone who could drive me home~"

"And who might that be?"

The familiar monotone voice made you spin your head around and up. Nines quirked a brow to show his curiosity in your answer. You felt your friend nudge you, invisible to him, telling you silently that this was probably a chance for you to finally crack the ice between you two.

How inappropriate your answer would be, though? What would Nines say and moreover, think of you? Oh God, you were already overthinking and the more you looked in those calculating, cool eyes, the more heat rose to your cheeks.

To Hell with it, the rum said in your system, already making you more courageous than ever. It's been long since you've had alcohol, and it never was your good friend. Probably wouldn't be your saviour now, either.

"A hot priest, maybe?"

The reaction to your answer wasn't spectacular, but his eyes seemed to darken with a new, unknown shadow, and your cheeks were as red as your dress when you've noticed his LED started to spin in a beautiful, although alarming, amber colour.

Your friend snort laughed in her punch, but all you picked up was the ringing in your ears. You did it. You idiot, you did it. And you couldn't take it back.

You ruined it.

Nines will never take you seriously ever again and whenever you'll have to look at him or talk to him, you'd be reminded of this conversation and this exact expression on his face all the time from now on. You were a bit too tipsy to figure out what he was possibly thinking, but he had been known to strictly guard his expression at all times anyway.

Androids didn't get drunk. Humans did. Androids didn't do stupid things like this. Humans did.

His almost completely guarded expression made you bit your lip. To do something, you ever so innocently moved the straw between your lips and sucked the last of the punch out of your plastic cup. The slurping noise definitely did not help making you look and sound professional at all.

"I think it would be best if I took you home right now", Nines finally spoke, making your stomach tingle with nervousness and causing your face to burn with embarrassment.

"I don't think I-", you were eager to protest, but he cut you off.

"Now", he repeated coolly.

You glanced at your friend who looked back at you serious; the smiles and giggles were gone. At least she sobered up just as much as you did; not much, but enough not to embarrass you more. Another thing you loved her for.

"I'll call you", you mumbled, placing your cup down on the table nearby.

He spun on his heels and led the way out and you followed him like a scolded puppy. You picked your jacket up and put it on; he didn't have, neither did he need one, so he stopped near the door to wait for you.

There was no escape, and you weren't looking forward to the embarrassing talk you'd get during the drive.

The last day of October was very cold, but at least it wasn't raining. He had one of those automatic cars that didn't really need a driver, and it beeped softly without Nines doing anything other than walk towards it. Right, you thought, must be an android thing; he probably could connect to other machines.

That always intrigued you. You were so curious what was he really capable of other than sampling stuff real time, reconstruct events and analyze data. You sighed to yourself, reminding yourself that you ruined the chance to ever know. He wouldn't want to talk to you after this.

Nines didn't need to punch in the destination; he just needed to use his special connection with another machine to make the engine whir to life and start driving. Your cheeks still burned and you didn't dare to look at him when you saw he glanced at you from the corner of your eyes.

"Did you mean it?" He asked quietly, surprising you.

"Did I mean what?" You asked as you finally looked back in his eyes.

He hesitated. The planet's most advanced android actually hesitated. His LED still was spinning in yellow.

"What you've said."

You blinked at him stupidly. He wanted you to repeat that sentence? You didn't think he'd embarrass you even further. Oh God, you wished Hell would just swallow you right there.

But perhaps his curiosity was genuine? You couldn't determine. Was he... did he feel insecure?

The rum said, once again, to Hell with it. You'd burn all of your bridges down anyway, didn't you? He'd never look at you the same way ever again, so you might as well get it all off your chest.

He'd ignore you, starting from tomorrow, anyway.

"Oh, Nines", you sighed, "you're the hottest man I've ever laid eyes upon."

He stared at you with a look that you understood as disbelief.

"You're mocking me", he concluded.

Now it was your turn to look at him bewildered.

"No", you frowned. "I'm serious."

When he said nothing, you felt like you needed to prove your point. And your tongue couldn't be stopped. Damned party punch. You didn't dare to look at him, though; wouldn't want to see his reaction to your stupid babbling.

"The first day I saw you I had to make a conscious effort not to stare. You looked so amazing as you walked in like you owned the place, all serious and professional. I had to make myself look away from where you sat but I couldn't focus on my work all day. Do you have any idea how hard it is when you're around?" You pouted now. "Of course not, you probably have no idea. And then you started to work and solved crimes and turned out that you're so bloody good at it, I mean there's a reason I'm trying so hard because it's so inspiring to have you around and-"

You paused, sighing as you deflated on the seat. You glanced at your hands with a pout, but you prayed your tears back where they belonged. You'd have so much time to cry yourself to sleep tonight, because this was the most embarrassing experience of your rather short life. You'd ask for a transfer the next time you went to work for sure. You wouldn't be able to stay in the same place with him.

You didn't dare to glance at him as you bit your lower lip, fighting your emotions in silence. But he appeared to be relentlessly curious.

"And?"

His voice was barely above a whisper, and you shrugged.

"And I think I'm hopelessly in love with you", you finished.

You thought that saying it out loud would fix your problems. That this craving would finally vanish, and it'd never return. But no, it was actually worse, because it was true. You really were in love with him.

All those micro expressions he exposed to the station, those little things he noted out loud to others to signal that he had noticed, the way he had saved Gavin's life more than once even though Reed was an asshole to him... Nines was a deviant, he wasn't bound by his programming or CyberLife anymore, but the acts of service, his seriousness when it came to his line of work made your love for him grow and grow until it was unbearable.

And then there were those little things.

There was one occasion when you forgot your tea on the counter in the break room and he brought it over to your desk. You were genuinely surprised as you looked up at him, especially when he made a comment that it was indeed healthier than coffee and that he was glad that you showed a good example to the others.

Or when twelve folders accidentally slipped out from your hands, scattering about on the floor, and you wanted to pull your hair out - organizing them was a tedious work, at least an hour, if not more, for you anyway -, and he volunteered to help you, gathering, analyzing and organizing the folders in the matter of minutes.

Or that one time when you dislocated your shoulder during a mission and for some crazy reason you asked him to set it right - and he did. Sure, he made you scream as he yanked the bones back where they belonged, but you didn't want to go to the hospital, and he helped you without dismissing or making fun of you for it.

You just realised now that he was showing little acts of kindness towards you. And that realisation made it even worse. You could've been friends with him, and you ruined it before it could even happen.

"I thought you were in love with Connor."

His quiet words made your eyes widen in disbelief and you finally looked at him. You nearly fainted. He was smiling. But there was also a shade of... blue tint... over his cheeks? You were bewildered at the sight. Was he blushing? Androids blushed?? He blushed because of your confession? Your head was spinning.

"It should've been obvious", he continued now, actually chuckling to himself. "It makes sense now."

Your throat was as dry as the fucking Sahara.

"What makes sense?"

"Every time I approached you, your eyes glazed over, you blushed, your pulse elevated, your pupils dilated. You were stuttering so much in the beginning, too, when you talked to me."

You hid your face in your hands. He remembered that! The way you were trying to reply to his questions - you were mortified he reminded you of that!

"I've always thought that you were afraid of me", he continued calmly. You made a squeaky noise behind your hands. You sort of were afraid of him, but also entirely enamoured by him, too. "Your reactions fit the fight or flight response. But then Valentine's day happened earlier this year."

"Oh my God", you squeaked again, but Nines still was relentless.

"It was a clever move, I'll admit", he added, "but there was a crucial detail you've both forgotten when you both left your envelopes on our desks. You've printed the cards in a public print shop", how did he figure that out?! "And there were no fingerprints", you exhaled sharply; at least you didn't fuck that up, "but I could detect a special dust on Connor's envelope. It wasn't dust, though." He paused and you chanced a glance at him, pulling your hands into fists, still covering your mouth with them. "Tea", he gave you the answer when your eyes met again. "Your tea, to be precise. You seem to like that brew, and I could identify it. My envelope, though, had some dog fur on."

You wanted to bite into your fingers. You successfully made him believe you sent a Valentine's card to Connor, and that your friend sent yours to him - it was hilarious, if not slightly terrible for confusing two wonderfully innocent androids.

"Up until lately, I've had no idea you two switched the envelopes with your friend", he confessed.

"Lately?" You whined, wondering what betrayed you and your friend.

"I've started to pay a bit more attention to her during this summer", Nines half smiled. "And I've identified the same reactions you have for me whenever Connor spoke to her. Interestingly, neither of you had the same response in a switched situation. If I walked up to her desk, for example, she was completely unbothered, and you were always polite and kind to Connor but he couldn't detect a change in your body language and vitals."

"You two were experimenting with us??" You whined in disbelief.

"We wanted answers", he quirked a brow now. "And neither of you ever told us the truth why were you both acting the way you did. You both dismissed as being 'excited' about your works." He smiled again. God, did he look good when he was smiling! How unfair of the world, how cruel! "So we didn't know. Until tonight."

"I shouldn't've told you", you whispered.

"It wasn't you", Nines shrugged, "it was Hank."

"Hank?!"

"He overheard your friend sighing to herself how handsome Connor was, so we decided to interrogate you separately." Nines looked so proud of himself. "I didn't need to do much, so I must thank Gavin."

Your head really was spinning from all the information. You hid your face in your hands again.

"Gavin??"

"He sneaked the rum in the party punch", Nines half smiled.

"I'll kill him", you squeaked and that got a chuckle out of him.

"I'm afraid you won't really have the energy after tonight to kill him", his words made you as red as a rose as you chanced a look at his smug expression, "all that remains now is to forward the information to Connor."

"Oh no!" You thought of your friend and her steadily approaching doom.

"It's only fair, don't you think?" The car stopped in front of your house and after switching a few buttons, Nines looked back at you with a look that you identified with unbridled lust. "You both gave us quite the headache, so to speak." Seeing you squirm and detecting your undoubtable arousal, Nines decided to make it even worse for you. "You've been so, so naughty..."

#fanfic #rk900 #rk800 #dbh connor #connor dbh #dbh #detroit become human #rk900 x fem reader #rk800 x fem reader #detroit become human nines #detroit become human fanfic #detroit become human connor #reader insert

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chierafied · 4 months

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December Drabbles Day 23 - Enchanted

Read on AO3.

Banner fan art by the amazing @sayuri-liu

For Akane. For your enthusiasm and support and friendship. 💖I appreciate you and wish you all the best for 2024!

An independent sequel for A Generous Offer

Day 23 - Enchanted

The anger, already simmering after his confrontation with the head waiter, spikes when Sesshoumaru finally sees the message from Kagura. Though their affair has never been one of a serious nature, it is Christmas. He’s saved the evening for her well in advance. If their plans now have changed, he’d have liked to have ampler prior warning. Or at the very least a proper phone call instead of a curt message calling things over. Finding out from a head waiter that the dinner reservation had been cancelled was the most humiliating way to receive the news.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up from his phone. A young woman stands hesitantly in front of him, her hair in black tumbling curls, her lips red to match the dress hugging her curves. The anger stills as his interest piques. “Yes?”

“If you don’t have any plans for tonight, you could join me. The dinner’s on me.”

His eyebrow arches. He has the whole evening free now and he’s tempted —by more than just her offer.

“That’s a very generous offer,” he replies, flattered. “But I do not wish to impose.”

She bites her lip, and his gaze gets caught by those small white teeth. “Please. It’s Christmas. It would be good to have some company.”

His waning resolve shatters at the look in her eyes. Her breath catches when he inclines his head.

“Very well. I'd be honoured.”

The head waiter gives them a stare but guides them to a table. They’re seated and settle in their places, casting side-long glances across the table at one another.

She picks up the menu, fiddles with it for a moment, and then sets it down again. “Thank you for agreeing to this. It was good of you.”

Sesshoumaru makes an attempt at levity. “I had a sudden opening in my schedule.”

Her smile flashes at him. And to his fascination, dimples. He picks up his own menu, to keep himself from staring.

Silence settles over them as they study the menus. It's a themed couple’s menu, but there are a few options. Sesshoumaru lingers over the drinks section. Maybe some alcohol would help cut through the tension.

His companion seems to agree. When the waiter arrives, her first order from the menu is a bottle of wine. She slants a glance his way.

“I hope that’s all right?”

“I’m here for the company,” he replied. “It’s the lady’s prerogative.”

Another smile follows, a softer one. Such a simple expression, yet he’s charmed. The anger is fully gone by now, replaced by curiosity and captivation. He doesn’t even know this woman, but something about her tugs at his heartstrings. It’s a feeling he’s never experienced before, and it leaves him eager for more.

The waiter comes with the wine and pours each of them a glass. Once it’s just the two of them again, Sesshoumaru picks up his glass and meets her eyes. Their stares connect and hold.

“I’m Nishimura Sesshoumaru, by the way.”

“Higurashi Kagome,” she introduces herself. She holds out her glass in an invitation.

Sesshoumaru smiles and clinks his glass against hers. “Nice to meet you, Kagome.”

The exchange of names finally breaks through the nerves that have been fluttering in the air between them. The conversation begins to flow between them, natural and easy. He’s usually not the most outgoing person out there so he’s surprised how much he’s enjoying himself. How readily he’s chatting with Kagome.

Their food arrives. It’s as delicious as one might expect from such a high-class restaurant. But even that pales in comparison to his companion.

They talk and laugh and eat and joke and share so many smiles that Sesshoumaru’s cheeks are threatening to ache. Which was not a problem he suffered from too often.

By the time dessert arrives, he’s almost wistful. Their conversation finally hits a lull as they carve out spoonfuls of the shared chocolate mousse. When he looks up, she’s looking at him from under her lashes. Her teeth catch her lip again and Sesshoumaru’s eyes snag, his throat drying a little.

“I love Christmas,” she says at last. “I had the whole evening planned. And decided to stick to the plan, even after my boyfriend broke up with me last week.”

“I’m glad you did,” he says in a low voice.

Her dimples flicker at him and he’s mesmerised. Higurashi Kagome is an enchantress, he’s fairly sure of that.

“I’m glad I did, too,” she admits and brushes a curl behind her ear. “Though my plans didn’t stop with the dinner.”

A slow smile spreads on Sesshoumaru’s lips. “Oh? And what would come after dinner?”

“A walk to go see the Christmas lights.” A smile flirts in the corners of her mouth as she licks her spoon. “Maybe you’d like to join me?”

“I would be delighted,” he says.

They settle the bill — it takes some arguing but Kagome does finally agree to let him pay for his half — and leave their table. He helps her coat on and as they head out the door, the back of her hand brushes against his. Silent and soft snowflakes greet them as they step out onto the street. Their hands brush together a second time and intertwine.

#sesskag #sesskag fan fiction #sesskag fanfiction #sesskag fic #sesskag december drabbles #chie writes #fic: sk

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olivia-sementsova · 3 days

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Adhd Artists Have Lists Of Forgotten Projects

You know you're an artist with ADHD when you have lists of neglected projects...

Over the last couple of months, I've been slowly adding to a list of all the places where I sell my work online. And I realized this list is kind of long, and I've neglected every single one of these. I honestly forgot they existed until I was reminded.

Etsy Shop

Creative Market Store

Spoonflower Store

A Shelf I Codesigned with CoFo

A Society6 Shop

And to add to that, these are just the places that are active RIGHT NOW and don't include all the online shops I have closed over the years. (I've had a Redbubble shop, a Fine Art America store, a StoreEnvy shop... and those are the ones I remember) Or the social media platforms I've given up on.

Being able to see this lack of consistency in myself is really frustrating, mostly because the underlying goal has stayed the same: To make art and to find a way to share it.

And when I think back on this, it’s always the same pattern. I’ll start something and be really excited about it. I think to myself "Ive finally figured it out! This is how Ill share my work with the world!" I’ll pour my whole heart into it. I may or may not have some success at it. But inevitably a point will come when I think I've either failed at it (like not making enough sales) or I hit a roadblock that makes it harder to work on it (like having to work a full-time job) and I feel completely dejected and hopeless and think "I will never be good at this!" and I close the shop, or stop posting about it, or otherwise give up. Some time will pass, and I will again have some free time and Ill do It all over again, but I won’t go back to build on what I've already done. No, no. I will do the harder thing and start something completely new. And repeat the whole thing again until another roadblock.

Even though I consistently want the same thing, I’ll pursue it inconsistently.

Even as I write this I feel frustration at myself. "Why couldn't I have just stuck to one thing!? I could be so much farther now!"

I'm in my late 30's and finally have a diagnosis and treatment for ADHD. I wish it had happened in my childhood. I wish I could have known why I struggled so much, even with the things that I love to do. And I wish I could have had some tools and support to make my goals more accessible. But there is nothing I can do about the past. I am glad to have this knowledge now.

Now I am able to step back a little and see that there is an underlying consistent goal, and that there is a way forward. I need to build a structure for myself to follow each creative interest as it comes. A place to gather everything together. I think this will be my website. Though I really don't know the specifics of how Ill do it.

Most importantly I want to stop thinking of each of those shops as individual failures, but instead see the underlying goal. And support myself in accomplishing it. I hope you do the same for yourself.

Do you have any long-term goals that you pursue in a haphazard manner? Share that with me.

#Artist Journey #ADHD Artist #Indie Designer #Wallpaper #furniture design #illustration #line art #Spoonflower #Etsy #Society6 #small business #artist business #moody art #indie fashion #artists on tumblr #my art

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harry-writings · 3 years

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Bothered

- A blurb in which somebody flirts with Y/n for the first time, and Harry lets jealousy get the best of him

This is a little Drive Me Wild extra for all your valentine’s day needs!!! I hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

“Tequila, please. The best one you’ve got!”

Open bars at work parties are an absolute lifesaver.

Harry and Y/n have been nonstop on their feet since three, wearing their sunday best, talking to all the higher ups and other officials at the firm with as much professionalism as possible. And though it was certainly a nice break from the work setting, it was still a lot for the both of them to keep up with.

It’s nearly eleven now, the party near its end and the exhaustion finally settling in. But Y/n wouldn’t ever dream of passing up unlimited free drinks whenever offered (neither would Harry, but getting her home safe is his biggest priority). Besides, she needed to take the edge off, somehow.

The bartender smiles at her, his eyes looking at her up and down very briefly before making her drink.

She’s humming softly to herself, her fingers tapping against the bar, the palm of her other hand resting on the back of her neck and she looks around the venue, admiring the architecture and the chandeliers that hang from above her.

“How long have you been working for them?” The bartender asks as he slides the shotglass to her, to which Y/n smiles.

“Almost three years! It’s been really good to me so far. I must say, though, it gets a bit stressful and there are a handful of times we end up having to take our work home. But I’ve met some of the best people through the company, so I can’t complain much! Especially when this is the only job I’ve ever considered staying at for so long.”

When the bartender doesn’t answer, yet rather just stares at her with amusement and endearment in his eye, Y/n starts to get nervous.

She considers diverting her attention back to Harry and moving on with her night as if she hadn’t spoken a word at all, but she’s never been the kind of person to walk away from an uncomfortable silence. And most certainly, she has never found it in her will to escape somebody’s pressing and persistent stares.

All of it just makes her so anxious.

So, as an attempt to calm her nerves, Y/n throws her head back as she takes her shot of tequila, her nose scrunching and eyes squinting as it burns down her throat and settles in her chest.

“What about you? How long have you been working as a bartender? I’ve heard it’s a lot of work, remembering all the recipes and stuff. Whenever I went to university, I would go to bars and get drunk by myself and watch how fast all the bartenders made drinks. I found it mesmerising, really. Like an art, almost. A sport, too, I suppose, given how much you all have to think and act quickly yet unmistakably.”

Harry smiles softly to himself, a bittersweet feeling bubbling in his chest as he listens to her get caught up in her rambles.

She doesn’t do that much with him anymore, not in the way she used to. And it isn’t because she’s lost any trust in him, or because she loves him any less — rather, it’s because she trusts and loves him so much more that she doesn’t feel the need to fill any gaps or spaces between them anymore.

He doesn’t make her nervous.

She doesn’t need reassurance with him because she already knows how madly in love they are with one another and how they are undeniably bound to spend the rest of their lives together. The silences they share are comfortable for her, his simple presence enough to make her feel at ease and loved and respected without him having to constantly remind her.

And surely, Y/n still chews his ear off here and there, but he only ever wants more of her.

It’s a disease, his greed and longing for her. She is so enough yet so not enough at the same time, it kills him to think about it, but only in the best way possible.

But the smile and the admiration die down nearly instantly when Harry’s eyes catch the way the bartender looks at Y/n, and the way he straightens himself before her, and the way his bottom lip tucks between his teeth ever so slightly.

Harry crosses his arms at this, watching the way another man is drooling and fonding over his Y/n and not at all trying to hide it. And the sad part is that he can’t even blame him for it — how could he? He had done the very same thing for nearly two years straight.

So he suffers with it in silence.

“My goodness, I do love me a woman who can carry a conversation.”

Harry’s eyes squint over at him, his arms still crossed over his chest, his fingers twisting as he watches him blink flirtatiously at Y/n and the upward twitch of his lip whenever she flips her hair over her shoulder.

She only ever does that when she’s sweating, he knows this because she’s his girlfriend and he knows her more than he’s ever known himself. He also knows that Y/n thinks too lowly of herself to ever consider one’s kindness as flirting.

And though Harry wouldn’t dare to dream of changing anything about her, he does wish, just this once, that she’d see it.

Y/n blushes at his comment, but only because she doesn’t know what to say.

“Can I have another shot, please?” She asks as a form of distraction, but in such a sweet manner the bartender barely seems to notice. “I never get to go out to drink much nowadays, with work and all. So, I’m sorry if I order too much. Large groups of people aren’t really my thing. Not that I hate people, or anything. I guess they just make me nervous.”

And as the bartender pours her shot glass full of tequila, his eyes don’t make the slightest move to leave her. He’s gawking, looking smug as if he could ever stand a chance.

Y/n pretends not to notice.

“Look, I close down the bar in an hour. And since large groups of people aren’t really your thing, why don’t I take you somewhere nice —”

“Oh...”

“— just you and me, so I can have the chance to get to know you more? Maybe in more ways than one, if I’m lucky?”

Oh, fuck no.

Flirting is one thing, but listening as some stranger talks about wanting to have sex with his girlfriend is something entirely different. Especially when she hasn’t done anything other than be nice and considerate towards him.

He’s taking advantage of her kindness.

Harry can’t hold himself back anymore.

“Excuse me?”

And curse his fucking natural lack of emotion because it was supposed to sound threatening and protective, but rather, it must have come off the way any other customer were to grab a bartender’s attention because he looks over at him with a tight and strained smile, clearly laced with annoyance, with not a hint of suspicion.

“Yes, sir, what can I help you with?”

Harry clenches his jaw and nods his head, his gaze falling to the top of the bar as he tries — really, really tries — to keep himself together instead of knocking this poor bloke’s teeth in.

The urge is there, but he could never scare Y/n like that, or sacrifice his job for satisfaction’s sake — he was lucky he didn’t jeopardize it when he landed a solid right hook on his coworker a few months back. But to make such a rude, blunt, disrespectful comment to his girlfriend is too much for him to process.

But it’s not all anger. There’s something else there — something else brewing and swelling inside of him that’s never been there before. He can’t identify it no matter how hard he tries.

“It would help me tremendously, actually, if you were to stop asking to sleep with my girlfriend right in front of me.”

It’s silent for a moment, the air thick with tension as the bartender looks both between Harry and Y/n, Y/n and Harry. He looks weary of it, as if it were so impossible for her to ever be seen with somebody like him.

“You’re with him?” He asks Y/n, as if Harry’s word wasn’t enough and it nearly throws him off the deep end.

Y/n’s eyes blink with confusion and shock as she tries to adjust herself to her surroundings. Everything happened so quickly to her, she feels like she can’t keep up.

Harry senses this — he senses her uncertainty and uneasiness and takes notice in the way her fingers begin to grip at her shot glass a bit tighter. Confrontation and arguments are not Y/n’s strong suit and in the hands of either one, she is defenseless.

“Is my word not enough for you?”

The bartender lifts his hands up in defense, his eyebrows raised as if somehow proving a point he’s clearly been missing. “Can’t blame me for assuming she’s single, you’re sitting next to the prettiest girl on earth and you look like you couldn’t even be bothered.”

Harry’s hands turn to fists, his jaw clenching and eyebrows twitching as he hears him speak all the words he’d rather die than hear spoken again.

How a complete stranger can cut a wound so deep within him is unfathomable, but here he is, bleeding out with all his insecurities and flaws and weaknesses along with it. And it pains him. It hurts and if one more wrong word is spoken, he’ll fall victim to all the darkest parts of himself.

He can’t risk that, not around Y/n.

“I would highly suggest you stop talking now —”

“You aren’t even interested in her! I gave her more attention in the last ten minutes than you’ve given her all night!”

“Hey.” Y/n cuts in with pouted lips, her face fallen as her voice quivers at the argument brewing in front of her. “That’s not true. He — he’s been beside me all night. I thought it was — I thought it was obvious.”

“Doesn’t matter anymore. We’re going home.”

Harry’s tone is unlike anything she’s ever heard. It’s stern, harsh, laced with impatience as he stands from his barstool and scrambles to gather her belongings.

And Y/n’s at a loss, just standing against the bar helplessly, looking at Harry with tearful eyes and shaking lips. He has never been this angry at her before and she doesn’t know how to fix it. Talking was what got them into this mess, she’s sure talking won’t get themselves out of it.

But it doesn’t hurt to try.

“Wait, H. I’m sorry, I —”

“That’s enough, now. We’re making our last rounds and then we’re going straight home.”

That was the first time he’s ever interrupted her.

It isn’t until Harry starts the car that Y/n breaks the silence.

“H, I didn’t know he was going to ask me out on a date.” She speaks with a voice small and shoulders slumped as she tries desperately to fix all the trust she has broken. “I was just trying to be nice and —”

“Not now, Y/n, please.”

She realizes the severity of the situation when he doesn’t call her a pet name.

Her eyes fill with tears, fully aware that even when he was most upset with her, he never interrupted her while talking or avoided her gaze like it was the last thing he ever wanted to see. He’s doing both right now and to say that it hurt her is an understatement.

He’s sick of hearing me speak. He’s angry at me for talking too much to everybody and not noticing the consequences. He’s tired of listening to me make excuses for myself when I’m never going to change. He doesn’t want this anymore.

Her mind can’t help but to think such things, and though deep down in her heart she knows he’d never feel that way towards her, words of her past can’t help but torment her in the heat of this moment. Because this is so different than how it usually is with him, and it all started with her.

Harry can feel how much of a toll his words took on her, but he doesn’t know what to say. He is feeling so many things, and processing so much, he feels like he’s lost himself. All sense of everything else had left him the second the bartender spoke the words he always feared to hear.

You’re sitting next to the prettiest girl on earth and you look like you couldn’t even be bothered.

He knows it isn’t true, and he also knows she knows it isn’t true, but it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

To know other people see it that way devastates him. He doesn’t date Y/n to look uninterested in her, or bored of her, or tired to be with her — he dates Y/n because he wants to show her off, desires to make her and everybody else see how in love with her he is, to make it known she never has to walk this world alone.

To know he has failed to do that simply by being himself is a lot for him to take in.

He sighs, ripping off his glasses so his other hand can rub at his burning eyes before settling the both of them back on the steering wheel, his gaze still set on the windshield.

“I’m sorry for not letting you finish talking, twice now. It wasn’t right and I know what that does to you. And I’m not angry or upset with you, either. I’m just — I’m just not in the mood right now, alright? I need some time to think.”

Y/n nods, fearing that whatever words she chooses to speak will only make it worse.

Neither of them talk the rest of the way home, but that doesn’t mean Harry doesn’t reach his hand over to her thigh to squeeze at it three times, as if to tell her he loves her.

It isn’t until they make it into their bedroom that Harry starts to let it all out.

He’s pacing, his hands fidgeting with his clothes and running through his hair, his eyes wild but still refusing to look at her, muttering curses under his breath but nothing directly towards her just yet.

Y/n’s standing by the dresser, taking off her remaining jewelry and allowing him his time to dwell on his feelings. He needs this. She knows she’s the only person that he’ll ever show this kind of emotion to — he couldn't even show it to himself — so she listens, smiles sympathetically at him here and there, refusing to leave his side until this is all figured out.

He huffs before letting out a sickened laugh.

“Who the hell does he think he is? Telling me I’m not interested in you. I can’t be walking around kissing and hovering and touching all over you at a work party, I respect you too much. But he wouldn’t know a damn thing about that, would he?”

He throws his suit jacket down on the bed, only allowing himself one beat of a moment to shake his head before his hands start to fidget again, pacing around the foot of the bed to try and understand his primary emotion.

He feels a million and ten different emotions scrambling within him at once, he can’t make sense of them. Whether he’s angry, or sad, or hurt, or insecure, or humiliated… he doesn’t know. It all feels the same yet all feels so different. He is utterly lost in all of them.

“Then proceeds to have the nerve to say he’s given you more attention than I have. What the fuck does that even mean? All he does is serve you two drinks and speak one sentence. I give you all my time, all my company, all my attention, and somehow he thinks he’s better for you than me?”

And it hits her.

No wonder he’s been acting so different towards her and so quiet despite him not blaming her for what happened — he’s jealous, which is the exact reason he doesn’t have an understanding with it.

She’s his first girlfriend, and until now, there had never been any reason for him to feel this way.

But as sick and twisted as it sounds, Y/n’s heart warms at the thought of it. Because never once has someone ever had a problem with letting her go. Her loss never affected anybody around her, and so nobody had ever feared it.

To know that out of all people, it’s him who does, means everything to her.

She hums at him, an all too knowing smile on her face as she makes her way to her frantic lover, who stills when he notices her closeness.

Her hands rest at his chest, rubbing at it over his dress shirt, just the way he likes. It reminds him of the night of their first date — when she gave into her cravings and put her hands nearly everywhere they could touch — and so she always goes back to that very first moment.

It never fails him.

“It’s okay, lovebug.” Y/n smiles softly at him, her voice even more soft and tender than usual as she tries to get him to relax.

Her hands slither down the hem of his trousers, her fingers resting just above the swell of his bum and pulling him in closer to her. And he wraps his arms around her shoulders, a heavy sigh leaving his lips before bringing his chest toward her cheek for it to nest in.

“Don’t let somebody get the best of you. Especially when they don’t know anything about you or me or our relationship. We know what we are and what we have, it doesn’t matter what he thinks is better for me. I have what’s best. Forever.”

He sighs, the weight of the night lifting from him slightly, but not enough.

He rests his chin on the top of her head, his eyes on the verge of being soaked with tears. Because though he knows her words to be true, he just can’t seem to shake what’s rattling in his bones and picking at his skin.

He wants it all to be okay, and it almost is, just not fully. And it’s killing him from the inside out.

“It’s a new feeling for me.” Harry confesses sadly, trying to think of the right words to say to explain what’s burning in his chest. “It hurts me to feel it. I’m so comfortable and confident in you and yet somehow I can’t — I can’t stop thinking about you and that fucking bartender and him touching you and making you laugh and —”

“You’re jealous.”

She pulls away from him slightly, her eyes looking up at him softly and sympathetically. He gives into her gaze for only a beat longer before looking away from her again, unable to take it.

It all makes sense — the unfamiliar feelings, the scrambling of emotions, the sensitivity to the words that had been spoken about him. His relationship had been threatened for the first time since it started, how could he not be?

“Of course I’m jealous. Which is absolutely horrible because you look so pretty yet it hurts too much to look at you.”

She chuckles, a playful smirk on her face as she reaches her hands up to his cheeks. And she turns his head to the side, forcing his eyes to look into hers as she rubs her thumb along his cheekbones.

Even like this, he is the most perfect man she’s ever seen. She has loved this person longer than she has loved anything else, how he could ever feel jealous of anybody is absolutely beyond her. He is all she will ever need, and everything she will ever want.

He is the only person that has ever deserved her.

“Baby, you have nothing to be jealous of. I don’t think, since the moment I’ve laid eyes on you, I’ve ever bothered to look for anybody else.” His breath faults, then, his heart dropping as if it were falling in love all over again.

And just like that, the hurt is gone.

“I’m yours, H. I have always been yours.”

He wants her to keep going, so instead of answering, he taps the back of her thigh twice. He’s never done so outside of sex, but he needs her all over him, holding him, hanging onto him. He needs it now more than ever.

She giggles, understanding exactly what he wants before jumping up until her legs are wrapped around his waist and her arms are looped around his neck. He catches her instantly, snuggling his face into the crook of her neck and kissing at the exposed skin.

She loves how much her words have an affect on him.

“I love you so much. I always will. No matter how many sleazy men ask me to sleep with them.”

He whines, lifting his head from her shoulder before looking at her with sad eyes and pouted lips at the subtle reminder that somebody else thought of her that way. Only he has, only he can, it doesn’t matter the circumstance.

She’s his.

She smiles down at him with a small blush on her cheeks, her arms unwrapping from his neck so her hands can grip his face again.

“I sleep with you. Every night. In more ways than one.” She kisses at his lips. “Cause I’m lucky.”

And for the first time tonight, he smiles. And as if that wasn’t enough for her, he laughs too — quietly, breathlessly — his hands rubbing all along her lower back and her thighs.

“Hmm... I am lucky, aren’t I?” Harry hums in bliss, his eyes looking at her fondly as she hangs on his neck in their home and it doesn’t get better than this. She had a man practically drooling on her lap and yet she’s here, with him, loving him, choosing him, just like she always has. “I do have the prettiest girl in the world. And the sweetest. And the strongest.”

“Too bad you couldn’t be bothered.” She teases, a smirk on her lips before her tongue pokes out to run quickly against his closed lips.

He lets out an almost sinister laugh, rumbling so deep in his chest she somehow manages to feel it in her legs.

“Why don’t I show you how bothered I am?”

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagines #harry styles imagine #harry styles preference

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witchy-jadda · 3 years

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rott spoilers ahead

so i’ve given myself some time to think about everything and try to process it all and here are some of my thoughts on trollhunters: rise of the titans...

- straight off the bat, i loved the intro. opening with blinky telling the story of what happened up until this point was incredible. i would have loved if they had circled back to this though (i saw someone else say it should have been him telling the story to jim and claire’s kids and i loved that idea!)

- i also liked that they didn’t waste time at the start, instead they just jumped right into the action which was fun.

- honestly, i thought jim’s plotline throughout the movie where he basically thought he was useless without the amulet was just really not fun to watch. i understand why it was there and it played into the climax but i really did not find it one bit necessary seeing as i felt that we have grown beyond that. i felt it was overused. we’ve been there before and jim is aware that he’s the trollhunter, amulet or not.

- douxie being so soft with nari was genuinely one of the most heartwarming parts of the movie. i feel that we were really robbed of so much potential with douxie in this movie though. we didn’t see nearly enough of him. it seemed that the writers were picking and choosing when to remember how powerful he is. switching with nari and connecting to her are two examples of when they actually used his power, but aside from that they just disregarded it a lot.

- and speaking of forgetting how powerful people are... i’m genuinely so hurt and let down over what they did to claire. do they not realise how powerful she is? did they just forget about her character arc? it sure felt like it. she got to use her powers a few times (connecting to nari, portalling the titan, etc) but mostly it felt like she was saying she was spent and therefore unable to do anything. she is so strong and so powerful, and that’s just so empowering - especially for young girls. and then it kinda felt to me that rott was reducing her to basically nothing more than jim’s love interest.

- okay another quick note, it kinda felt to me that krel’s potential was also pretty wasted? he barely did anything and i just think he deserved more too.

- ew okay i don’t even want to think about it but i know i can’t discuss rott without talking about the mpreg thing. seriously, what the fuck was that? at first, i thought it was going to be a joke. i thought aja and krel were gonna wind steve up and see how far they could go with making him think he was pregnant just for a little bit of comic relief. but then he was actually pregnant. and so i laughed, because even though it was dumb it was kind of funny. weird and unexpected, but kind of funny. but by the time the movie was over it just didn’t sit right with me. looking past the fact that it was just more of them making steve’s character into a joke, i couldn’t see the logic in giving so much time to that subplot when other characters (claire, douxie) and other relationships (claire and douxie’s friendship) were sidelined. maybe if he had gotten a whole season the mpreg thing could have been included as comic relief or whatever, but with such limited time i really don’t see the point of wasting so much time on something so pointless.

- speaking of steve, i need to talk about creepslayerz... they really deserved more :( like i get that eli literally helped steve through child birth and then named one after him which was lowkey adorable but i loved their friendship so much and i was really hoping to see more of them. i was kind of hoping they’d get to do more as well. look i gave up on hopes of a romance long ago (even though i still really wished it would happen) but i hoped that at least we’d see some more of their friendship.

* by this point my brain has decided to forget absolutely every point i wanted to make... cue the brain fog (we don’t like her) and allow me to take a moment to read back and try to find my point again *

- i don’t think i can stress enough how much i loved the visuals in this movie. holy fucking shit it was just phenomenal. like wow. the art was absolutely fantastic and i’m really hoping for another the art of... book because i love the art of trollhunters and i feel that they could do with updating it to include the newer stuff. but yep, the animation quality was incredible and i don’t have a bad thing to say about it because just wow.

- speaking of art... a moment of appreciation for character designs. just wow wow wow. we love to see such intricately designed villains. we love to see growth in our other much loved characters. and the locations too? fantastic. beautiful. amazing. loved it.

- another moment of appreciation for jim. the hair. the scars. the injuries. the winter jacket. the fact that he looked a little older.... loved it. loved it, loved it, loved it. i cannot wait to spend hours pouring over reference pictures to draw them all.

- and claire... her armor being weathered and worn. her eyes!! her hair looked great as always. i just love her...

- nari nari nari... my goodness, her magic is so beautiful. i wish we got to see more.

- also, the jlaire moments were very cute. their kisses? so soft. they literally love each other so much. i adore them.

- what happened to the babies from the darklands btw? is not enrique just chilling in the lake’s house with a ton of babies?

- barbara deserved better. i would have liked to see her and strickler happy.

- on that note, why the actual fuck did they think a few explosives would win against magic?? literal ancient magic and these dumbasses were like huh i guess we should blow it up. i’m sorry, what?? y’all are stupid.

* currently trying to think of every possible point that isn’t to do with the ending because i really don’t want to think about that yet *

- the whole thing with archie and charlemagne felt super unnecessary. like usually characters sacrifice themselves and it’s like sad and you can see the reasoning and stuff. but they literally could have gotten out. i really did not vibe with that. it felt like they just did that to leave douxie with no one.

- that trollmarket was beautiful though.

- speaking of trollmarket... they really restored the heartstone just like that? are you joking? i was not impressed at all. the heartstone was dead and gone, could not be destroyed. did they just forget that? half the shit in wizards wouldn’t have happened if the heartstone could have been restored. very pissed off by that. it was dead, that was it.

- okay back to jim... love that he pulled the sword from the stone. it was cute that it was a group effort, kinda would have preferred if it was just him but that’s just a me thing. and maybe me and my daylight tattoo are biased here, but excalibur is not half as pretty as daylight.

- not gonna lie, jim yelling come on trollhunters! kinda got me. i was very emotional watching this.

- i think the most in character jim moment of the whole movie was when he dropped excalibur, he didn’t have his armor, he was all alone and he decided to make a fist and fight the wizard/god with literally no weapon or means of defence. i don’t think y’all understand how much i love this dumb self sacrificing selfless boy. i’ve said it before and i’ll say it again, he is literally one of my most favourite characters of all time. i love him with all my heart.

- the armor!! wow wow wow. that was a fucking cool scene. beautiful.

- jim getting stabbed or whatever with that fucking spear thing nearly killed me.

- okay here goes... toby. my sweet toby. jim and toby’s friendship is one of my absolute favourites ever. my goodness. and toby getting in the van and going to save jim was incredible and such a toby thing to do. of course he would think of doing that.

- but like seriously... claire and douxie are so fucking powerful and they were both just like lol i guess we can’t do anything to help jim? i’m sorry what?? don’t tell me that claire wouldn’t go full on black and purple eyes and get herself up their to him. i just... i’m so bothered by the fact that they were sidelined y’all :|

- also, do not seriously try to tell me that aaarrrgghh!!! would let toby go on his own. he would have went with him. he would have followed him.

- literally as jim was falling the first thing that went through my mind was oh aaarrrgghh!!! is gonna run up and catch him.

- and while we’re on the topic of aaarrrgghh!!! why tf did they have such a build up that something was going to happen to either him or blinky for literally no reason? wtf

- aaarrrgghh!!! would not have let toby go alone!!! if he had been there, he would have protected toby, he would have saved him and none of that mess of an ending would have happened.

* ugh here’s the bit i was dreading... the ending *

- first off, i am choosing to ignore it.

- time stone? really? we’re... we’re gonna do this? literally one of the most original things i have ever watched is now - at the literal last possible minute - rip off another movie?? really?? whyyyy???

- i literally cannot express how much i hated it. it was so fucking unnecessary.

- he didn’t need to go back that far!!!

- i’m actually trying to block this out but i suppose i have to at least touch on it. jim would never ever put that burden on to toby. he just wouldn’t. before even looking at all of the other issues with toby getting the amulet, i need to say that. it just wouldn’t happen. he struggled so much with being the trollhunter, he wouldn’t put that on toby.

- also toby literally never wanted to be the trollhunter?? he never wanted the amulet? he wanted to be a duke and have his war hammer and go on adventures with his best friend and his wingman and eat mexican food.

- okay so um i guess they all just forgot about unbecoming? cool cool cool.

- seriously though, was it not established many times that jim literally had to be trollhunter? and if he wasn’t it would be draal and everything would go to shit? did they just forget about that??

- having jim just decide to give toby the amulet literally takes away from the entire meaning behind jim getting the amulet and becoming the trollhunter. the amulet chose jim. merlin chose him. out of all of the creatures in the world, it had to be jim. he can’t just give that to toby!!

- and as much as i love toby, he would not last a day as trollhunter.

- and that’s not even beginning to mention all that jim erased by not becoming trollhunter. no father son relationship between him and blinky. they didn’t stop steve from picking on eli so no steve redemption and no creepslayerz. is he just going to allow enrique to be taken? toby will not have the same incentive to go into the darklands to save him if that’s the case. strickler will not show any sort of sentiment towards toby either. and then the big one...

- IS THAT FUCKER REALLY GOING TO ALLOW CLAIRE TO NOT GET HER POWERS??? WHAT???

- if jim isn’t trollhunter and the whole thing with enrique doesn’t happen then claire will never get her shadowstaff. let’s be real, strickler probably wouldn’t even need angor rot with toby as trollhunter. somehow i can’t see him making it that far...

- if claire doesn’t have her shadow staff then the whole thing with morgana won’t happen. she won’t destroy the shadow staff and then she will never develop her powers. would jim really rob her of that?

- okay i can’t do anymore, it’s too much for me now...

- i touched on this already in a separate post but i gotta say it again... i did not enjoy the destiny is a gift bit at the end. first of all, jim having toby find the amulet literally takes the meaning of that speech and his destiny away instanty. and second, i just could not stand hearing emile hirsch say the words that belonged to anton yelchin. it was just uncomfortable.

aaand i think i’m done. maybe i’ll have more later but i have a headache now from all of this.

#rott #trollhunters #tales of arcadia #rott spoilers #jim lake jr #claire nuñez #toby domzalski #blinky #aaarrrgh #wizards #toa #douxie #rise of the titans #trollhunters spoilers #trollhunters rise of the titans

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hekateanwitchcraft · 4 years

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An Introduction to Worshipping Medeia

As a Hellenic witch, the worship of Medeia is an important part of my practice. She was a witch and priestess of Hekate, possessing nearly unparalleled knowledge of magic and poisons. I wanted to write this post to give some background on who Medeia is, her role as a witch and a priestess, and how I have come to honor her in my practice.

Who is Medeia?

Parentage

Medeia (Μήδεια) is given mainly two parentages, either Aeetes, son of Helios, and Eidyia, daughter of Oceanus, or Hekate and Aeetes. Hesiod offers us a description of the first, writing:

“To the tireless Sun the renowned Oceanid Perseïs bore Circe and King Aeetes. Aeetes, son of the Sun who makes light for mortals, married by the gods’ design another daughter of Oceanus the unending river, fair-cheeked Idyia; and she bore him the trim-ankled Medea, surrendering in intimacy through golden Aphrodite” (Hesiod 31)

Alternatively, Diodorus names Hekate and Aeetes as her parents, explaining:

“Perses had a daughter, Hecate, and she excelled her father in her brazen lawlessness...She was a keen contriver of mixtures of deadly drugs [pharmaka], and she discovered the so-called aconite. She tested the powers of each drug by mixing it into the food given to strangers...After this she married Aeetes and gave birth to two daughters, Circe and Medea, and also a son Aigialeus” (qtd. in Ogden 78)

Either of these parentages could make sense, but I personally observe the first.

(Art: Medea by Frederick Sandys)

Medeia as the Witch Priestess of Hekate

One of Medeia’s most important roles in literature and myth is that she is a priestess of Hekate and a witch, being called “Medea of the many spells” (Apollonius of Rhodes 109). In most literature there is no way to separate these roles.

She was extremely devoted to Hekate, Apollonius of Rhodes stating that “as a rule she did not spend her time at home, but was busy all day in the temple of Hecate, of whom she was priestess” (116). Euripides also writes that Medea says “I swear it by her, my mistress, whom most I honor and have chosen as partner, Hecate, who dwells in the recesses of my hearth” (Euripides 13). Clearly, the relationship between her and Hekate was very close, and it was said on occasion that she even learned magic from Hekate, Herself. Apollonius of Rhodes writes that “[t]here is a girl living in Aeetes’ palace whom the goddess Hecate has taught to handle with extraordinary skill all the magic herbs that grow on dry land or in running water” (123). Diodorus also claims this, but adds an interesting addendum that attributes to the character of Medeia:

“They report that Medea learned all the powers of drugs from her mother [Hekate] and her sister [Kirke], but her own inclination was the opposite. For she continually saved the strangers that put in from dangers” (qtd. in Ogden 79)

(Art: Medea the Sorceress by Valentine Cameron Prinsep)

Regardless of the origins of her powers, they were no doubt incredible. Apollonius of Rhodes explains that “she can put out a raging fire, she can stop rivers as they roar in spate, arrest a star, and check the movement of the sacred moon” (123). In one instance Apollonius states that “the beautiful Medea spell through the palace, and for her the very doors responding to her hasty incantations swung open of their own accord...From there she meant to reach the temple. She knew the road well enough, having often roamed in that direction searching for corpses and noxious roots, as witches do” (148). This is clearly an indicator that her powers are incredible, but what is even more awe-inspiring is what Apollonius says happens next:

“Rising from the distant east, the Lady Moon [Selene], Titanian goddess, saw the girl wandering distraught, and in wicked glee said to herself: ’So I am not the only one to go astray for love, I that burn for beautiful Endymion and seek him in the Latmian cave. How many times, when I was bent on love, have you disorbed me with your incantations, making the night moonless so that you may practice your beloved witchcraft undisturbed!” (148).

Medeia is said to be able to actually banish the moon Herself from the sky, an unimaginable feat. This is indicative of the degree of power she possesses, having sway over nature itself.

She is most known to have used her knowledge and powers repeatedly to help Jason, her husband, on his quest for the Golden Fleece. The first instance of this was that she made Jason an ointment which would make him invincible. Apollonius describes this in length, writing that:

“She had twelve maids, young as herself and all unmarried...She called them now and told them to yoke the mules to her carriage at once, as she wished them to drive to the spending Temple of Hecate; and while they were getting the carriage ready she took a magic ointment form her box. This salve was named after Prometheus. A man had only to smear it on his body, after procreating the only-begotten Maiden [Hekate] with a midnight offering, to become invulnerable by sword or fire” (131-2)

He continues, detailing the ritual of how she obtained the plant she used to make this ointment:

“Medea, clothed in black, in the gloom of night, had drawn off this juice in a Caspian shell after bathing in seven perennial streams and calling seven times on Brimo, nurse of youth, Brimo, night-wanderer of the underworld, Queen of the dead. The dark earth shook and rumbled underneath the Titan root when it was cute, and Prometheus himself groaned in the anguish of his soul” (132).

Here we see a process that is depicted often, the bathing of Medeia and her ritualistic harvesting of herbs. We also see her here call on Brimo (Βριμω), an epithet of Hekate, in Her role as nurse of the young (Kourotrophos/Κουροτρόφος), night-wanderer (Νυκτιπολος/Nyktipolos), of the Underworld (Χθονι��/Kthonia), and Queen of the Dead (Ανασσα ενεροι/Anassa Eneroi), indicating the importance of Hekate to her witchcraft.

(Art: Jason and Medea by John William Waterhouse)

A similar harvesting of herbs and roots is seen in fragments of Sophocles’ play The Root-Cutters. What we have of the play states that “She [Medea] covers her eyes with her hand and collects up the white-clouded juice that drips from the cut in bronze jars...the covered chests conceal the roots, which this woman reaped, naked, with bronze sickles, while crying out and howling” (qtd. in Ogden 83). Hekate is then said to be “crowned with oak branches and snakes” (qtd. in Ogden 83). Then the women chant “Lord of the sun and holy fire [Helios], sword of Hecate of the roads, which she carries over Olympus as she attends and as she traverses the sacred crossroads of the land, crowned with oak and the woven coils of snakes, falling on her shoulders” (qtd. in Ogden 83). In this short but incredible fragment we see that Medeia calls on both Hekate and Helios, her grandfather, to bless their ritual. We also see a repeat of incantations to harvest magical herbs, and an introduction of her association with bronze.

Another one of Medea’s feats was charming the snake that guarded the Golden Fleece into a slumber. In the Argonautica, Apollonius of Rhodes writes:

“The monster in his sheath of horny scares rolled forward his interminable coils, like the eddies of black smoke that spring from smoldering logs...But as he writhed he saw the maiden take her stand, and heard her in sweet voices invoking Sleep [Hypnos], the conqueror of the gods, to charm him. She also called on the night-wandering queen of the world below [Hekate] to countenance her efforts...the giant snake, enchanted by her song, was soon relaxing the whole length of his serrated spine and smoothing out his multitudinous undulations...Yet his grim head still hovered over them and the cruel jaws threatened to snap them up. But Medea, chanting a spell, dipped a fresh sprig of juniper in her brew and sprinkled his eyes with her most potent drugs and as the all-pervading magic scent spread around his head, sleep fell on him.” (150-1).

(Medea and the Dragon by Maxwell Ashby Armfield)

She was also said to have killed the giant Talos, a gift given to Zeus from Hephaistos, with her witchcraft, specifically the Evil Eye. In this more horrifying passage, it is said that:

“[W]ith incantations, she invoked the Sprits of Death [Keres], the swift hounds of Hades who feed on souls and haunt the lower air to pounce on living men. She sank to her knees and called upon them three times in song, three times with spoken prayers. She steeled herself with their malignity and bewitched the eyes of Talos with the evil in her own. She flung at him the full force of her malevolence, and in an ecstasy of rage she plied him with images of death” (Apollonius of Rhodes 192).

In this passage, she calls on the Keres, and with them is able to use the evil eye to bring immediate death to a direct creation of the gods. This is a horrifying feat, not only for the power it must require, but for her ability to kill in an instant.

Finally, she also is said to have rejuvenated Jason’s father Aeson. In Ovid’s Metamorphoses, Jason pleads with Medea to take years of his own life to give more to his father, but she rejects him saying that Hekate will not allow such a thing to take place. Instead, she offers that through her witchcraft, instead, if Hekate is willing to help her, she may rejuvenate him. Under the full moon, Medeia performs the ritual. She calls on Hekate, Night, the Moon, and Helios to aid her in her task (126-7). A chariot drawn by dragons appears to her and she takes it to gather herbs harvested with her bronze scythe. After nine days and nights, she returns to Jason to perform the ritual. The ritual is extensive and is essentially repeated in full. She builds two altars, one to Hecate and one to Hebe. She also digs two ditches on sacrifices a black sheep into the ditches, also pouring wine and milk into them. She also calls on the “deities of the earth” which may mean deities of the land or chthonic deities, and Hades. Once she appeases these gods and goddesses, she spells Aeson to sleep on a bed of herbs and tells Jason to leave her to perform her magic. She then dips sticks into pools of blood and lights them with the flames on the altars, then purifying the man once with fire, three times with water, and three times with sulfur.

She then adds many herbs, roots, and flowers to her bronze cauldron as well as “hoar frost gathered under the full moon, the wings of the uncanny screech owl with the flesh as well, and the entrails of a werewolf which has the power of changing its wild-beast features into a man’s. There also in the pot is the scaly skin of a slender Cinyphian water-snake, the liver of a long-lived stag, to which she also adds eggs and the head of a crow nine generations old” (Ovid 129). Then, she slits the throat of Aeson and replaced his blood with her potion, finally rejuvenating him.

There is more descriptions of Medeia’s magical feats throughout literature, but these are simply some of the most detailed and famous. She is clearly a very powerful witch and a significant figure within the history of Hekate worship. With her bronze cauldron and chariot of dragons, she is quite awe-inspiring.

(Art: The Sorceress by R. Willis Maddox)

Medeia’s Character

One of the issues we run into with Medeia’s mythos is her defamation and portrayal as a child-murdering and vengeful woman. She is indeed vengeful against Jason, and rightfully so, for he bade her to leave her homeland, murder her brother, and constantly had her aid him with her witchcraft, only to abandon her for another. However, Euripides’ tale of her brutally murdering her children has some criticisms from scholars who note that there are other versions of the tale.

One such tale is that from Apollodorus who writes that “Another tradition is that on her flight she left behind her children, who were still infants, setting them as suppliants on the altar of Hera of the Height; but the Corinthians removed them and wounded them to death” (1.9.28). In the modern era, a scholar named Sarah Illes Johnston, author of Restless Dead and Hekate Soteira, also writes that Medea prays to Hera Akraia to make her children immortal, and Hera either declines or breaks her promise to fulfill this task, leaving the children to die (62-3). Johnston denies the implication of Medea in her children’s death, instead attributing it to circumstances outside her control or by the hand of another.

These different tellings of Medeia’s story fits with the Colchian princess who aids Jason in a much more believable way than the suddenly spiteful women who murders her children. This variation is less popular, the other being popularized perhaps to demonize magic and women of power.

(Art: Medea by Eve De Morgan)

Worshipping Medeia

Now that Medeia’s character and mythological status has been discussed, I think it’s important to talk about how I actually go about worshipping Medeia. I worship Medeia in both divine and ancestral ways, which I suppose could be attributed to methods of hero worship in Ancient Greece. Worshipping Medeia can be done alongside Hekate and/or Helios, as well as alongside Kirke. If you observe the Mighty Dead or Witch Ancestors, she could also be worshipped alongside them.

Offerings

Offerings for Medeia can include wine, frankincense, milk, honey, food, poisons, sacred plants, bronze artifacts, candles, snake parts or figurines and dragon figurines, artifacts of witchcraft, and even Hekate iconography. One could also offer her blood, but that is up to your personal discretion.

Names and Epithets

Names/epithets I call Medeia include ‘Of the Many Spells,’ ‘Vengeful Maiden,’ ‘Witch Priestess of Hekate,’ ‘Medea of Poisons,’ ’She Who Knows All Herbs,’ ‘Giant-Slayer,’ one that could also be said of Hekate, ‘Princess of Colchis,’ ‘Granddaughter of Helios,’ ’Daughter of Sun and Moon,’ one I use to indicate her relationship to Helios and her devotion to Hekate, and Medea Pharmakeia, or Medeia of Witchcraft/Magic.

Sacred Objects

Sacred plants of Medeia could include any poisons, juniper, olive, and aconite specifically. Sacred animals include dragons and snakes. Bronze is also sacred to Medea, as are cauldrons of any kind.

Specializations

Medeia can be called upon for justice and vengeance, especially for spells of justice and vengeance, witchcraft of any kind, to bless herbs, for gardening, for aid in Hekate worship, for the downfall of your enemies, for protection from harm, for protection from snakes, and for guidance in magic.

Prayers to Medeia

Prayer for Medea’s Aid in Witchcraft

Prayer to Medea for Vengeance

Conclusion

In conclusion, while Medeia may not be a part of the usual canon of hero worship, or worship in general, if you are a devotee of Hekate or Helios, worshipping Medeia might be right for you. Likewise, any witch who observes the Hellenic pantheon should give serious thought to venerating Medeia in their practice.

Works Cited:

Medea by Euripides

Magic, Witchcraft, and Ghosts in the Ancient Greek and Roman Worlds by Daniel Ogden

The Voyage of Argo by Apollonius of Rhodes

Theogony by Hesiod

The Library by Apollodorus

The Metamorphoses by Ovid

“Corinthian Medea and the Cult of Hera Akraia” by Sarah Illes Johnston

(Art: Medea Casting Spells by Henry Ferguson)

#Medea #Medea worship #hellenic polytheism #hero worship #witchcraft #witch #paganism #Hekate #hecate #hellenic witchcraft #hellenic heroes

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if-music-be-the-food-of-love · 2 years

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I have no skills outside of words, so here’s my 2021, a mixture of fandoms, ships, books, and my fics. It’s a mess, but what’s new?

It’s New Years Eve, and I’m at home, wrapped in a blanket on my couch (bc as some of you may know the wifi signal in my room and I are constantly at odds). Everywhere around me is exploding in covid, so there’s nowhere to go--let’s pretend I might actually go somewhere if I could 😂😂. So instead, I’ll do something I find terrifying: tag a whole bunch of ppl.

A year ago I had a handful of mutuals I never interacted with. This year, I have friends. It’s been an adventure. You all are so talented and amazing, whether it’s giffing, writing, drawing, any kind of art, headcanon-ing, analyzing, commenting, reblogging. I’m constantly blown away by how kind and supportive everyone is, and funny, so funny. I didn’t know it was possible to care so much about people I’ve never met who live so far away (or maybe close?). I’d always planned to be an outsider, an observer, watching the chaos, reblogging other people’s ideas and stories, but @debussyatmidnight changed that. She messaged me, and we started talking, and being the wonderful, caring, effervescent person she is, she pulled me out of my shell and gave me the courage to reach out to others and comment more on posts. Slowly but surely, I started to get to know you all, not just as the names on posts in the tag but as individuals, and that’s been so much fun. 💕💕

Tumblr has become my escape from real life. Wtfockdown was seriously the highlight of 2020 for me, and I thought 2021 couldn’t get any worse. I was wrong. My life fell spectacularly apart in 2021. My world was shattered, and it may or may not surprise anyone, but it happened about a third of the way through writing I Want it All. At first I didn’t think I’d be able to keep writing, but then writing became my comfort, my sanity, my ability to function. I poured my soul into it, and I know that fic is how and why I met so many of you. I am so disgustingly grateful for that, that you all came to me, in a sense, when I needed you, when I needed friends. Tumblr is where I go to not think and just get excited about the things I love and discuss them with people who love them too. You have ALL made my life better this year and brought me so much joy and fun. I can’t count the number of new interests I have because one (or many) of you mentioned it. Whether we’re recent mutuals or old, whether we’ve interacted or not, I am grateful for you and always look forward to seeing you on my dash and in my notes. You all are amazing, and I’m sending you all the virtual hugs.

I wish you all the best in 2022. Happy New Year!!

@debussyatmidnight @justalina @art3misjade @embeddedinmybrain @pamouche @karemark41 @letisnotonfire @thenerd10 @jackfrostsander @annonymannonym @sanderxrobbee @sandersmullet @maade-of-stardust @foxsake5 @nyttvera @silviarucci @alstublieft @franboos @honeyandsinn @allforyoumylovely @birthdaysentiment @iambetterbymyself @hidden-joy @delitefullychaotic @lblogss @livingwherethesidewalkends @martinakozlova @gele-gordijnen

#mutual appreciation #seriously this place might be chaotic and messy #but it's exactly what i need #thank you all so much for being here and being you #milliiiiiiiie you know ily 💕💕💕#you do make me feel braver and more confident and you’ve picked up the pieces of my breakdowns a few times #you are such a good friend #thank you for everything

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morganayenneferburnham · 3 years

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Have I Known You 20 Seconds or 20 Years? – Nikolai Lantsov Series

Chapter 1: Devils Roll the Dice, Angel Roll their Eyes

Chapter 2: You Did a Number on Me

Chapter 3: You Could Call Me Babe for the Weekend

Chapter 4: The Best of Times, The Worst of Crimes

A very short summary: Y/N has been working with the crows for a few years. Her life feels complete until she meets the insufferable Nikolai Lantsov. She finds herself forced to work with the King of Ravka on one of Kaz Brekker’s crazy schemes.

Word count: 2.5k

A/N: I finally finished chapter 4. It is a bit longer than the others. I should probably mention that I have never picked a lock or broken into a safe before so it might not be accurate. I tried my best, though!

Chapter 4: The Best of Times, The Worst of Crimes

“So, how often do you break into councilmen’s houses, exactly?” His curious voice resonating, barely louder than a whisper, in the dark empty corridor.

She was crouched down in front of the office door, kneeling on the thick burgundy carpet. Her nimble fingers, holding the picks she’d slipped from a hidden pocket of her dress, working quickly to get the door open.

She smiled, “Often, enough.” Does he disapprove? She wondered. Probably not. He’s breaking in as well, after all. The lock finally clicked. She let out a deep sigh of relief. Kaz may have trained her well, but she knew he was a better lock pick than she could ever hope to be. He was always so calm. Unfortunately, her nerves threatened to get the better of her every time she had to use this particular skill on a job. She was glad the first hurdle was behind her, but she knew cracking the safe would prove to be even more daunting.

“Let’s go,” she said, standing up and placing the picks back in her hidden pocket.

The door opened silently revealing an elegant office. Ornate woodwork decorated the lower half of the walls. Tasteful art pieces were scattered around the room. Kaz would love this, she thought, looking appreciatively at a DeKappel mounted on the wall behind the cluttered desk. If we have enough time, I’ll take a quick peek at these documents. There might be something interesting in there.

“According to Brekker the safe should be behind that bookcase” Nikolai gestured to a tall bookcase in the left corner of the room before swiftly making his way to it. “There should be a mechanism somewhere…” He was looking for it, moving his fingers around the back of the piece of furniture. A loud click resonated. The bookcase swung on its hinges, revealing the door to a steel safe. Nikolai turned back to her, wearing a wide grin. “This is fun! Maybe I should take a page out of your book.”

She raised a questioning brow, looking in his direction, making her way to the safe. “What do you mean?”

He let out a low chuckle. “I think I’ll start breaking into Zoya’s room, move stuff around. Maybe leave a note or two. It’d be a good way to annoy her.”

“Why would you risk your life like that? I mean I don’t know her well, but I have a feeling she’s scary when pissed off.” She thought of Zoya’s blazing blue eyes. She must be gorgeous too.

“You have no idea how absolutely terrifying she can be” he mused. “but a King needs entertainment.” His grin was utterly wicked. Y/N felt her heart skip over a beat.

She smiled back. The idea of Zoya trying to murder the king amused her to no end. “Well, it’s your funeral,” she replied, shrugging her shoulders. “Now be silent, I need to focus.” She took a seat on the floor facing the safe.

She reached for the combination dial, gently resting her fingers on it. She breathed in deeply. Contact points. This is the easy part. She slowly spun the dial listening for the telling sounds. Click. A bit more. Click.

There we go. Park the wheel. Okay. Now I need to figure out the number of wheels. Sankta Lizabeta, please, don’t let there be too many.

She started turning the dial slowly again. First turn. Click. Second turn. Click. Third turn. Click. Fourth turn. Nothing.

She let herself breathe again. Three wheels. Three numbers. Six possible combinations. She could do this.

She quickly turned the dial to the right, letting it complete multiple turns before stopping at zero. She rolled her shoulders. No time to waste, she thought, here I go. She spun the dial slowly to the left. Click. More. Click. She repeated the process over and over, starting from a new number each time. She knew lock manipulation was time consuming but Saints this was taking way too long.

She found herself wishing she’d brought paper with her. This would’ve been a lot easier if she could’ve graphed her findings as she went instead of having to memorize them. Wylan is brighter than I am. He should be in here, helping.

She finally narrowed it down to three numbers: 12, 13, and 89. Six possible combinations. She was already behind schedule. She had to try them quickly.

She tried the first combination holding her breath. It didn’t work. She could feel Nikolai’s gaze on her. She heard him fidgeting by the door.

Saints, it would’ve been so much easier if I could’ve just drilled through this damn door. We’re screwed if I can’t get it open in the next minute.

“Fuck, I wish Kaz had sent Jesper in.” She was starting to panic. Second combination? Not this one either. This was taking too long. She was too slow. She was going to fail Kaz. Even worse, she was going to fail Nikolai.

She tried the third combination to no avail.

“Why would a sharpshooter be useful right now?” He sounded mostly confused, somewhat curious, and maybe a bit anxious.

Her fingers worked quickly, turning the dial following the sequence of the fourth combination. She groaned. It hadn’t worked.

“Well, a Fabrikator would be a lot more efficient at cracking a safe,” she said simply. Only two combinations left to try. This has to work.

“Oh, thank the Saints!” she exclaimed leaving no chance for Nikolai to reply. The penultimate combination had worked. 13-12-89. This Saints forsaken sequence of numbers had finally opened the safe. She had been lucky the safe wasn’t one of the more recent models. This one had already been difficult enough to crack.

She grabbed the blueprints, quickly rolling them up. She pulled her skirts up her right thigh and slid the precious documents in the sheath safely tied there. Nikolai closed the safe’s door and locked it. They were already late. “Come on. We have to go.” She was moving towards the door as soon as her skirts had fallen back into place.

Nikolai followed suit, quietly closing the door behind them. He quickly moved aside, giving Y/N access to the lock once more. She was already holding her picks.

Her hands were shaking slightly making it difficult to lock the door. She could’ve sworn the small click of the lock was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. She had never been more relieved. She rose quickly. She was ready for this night to be over.

Footsteps rang out in the hallway. Someone was coming up the stairs. It would be hard to explain what they were doing in the deserted hallway. They couldn’t be discovered here. She looked around hurriedly but there didn’t seem to be a good hiding place anywhere close.

Nikolai turned back towards her, “Do you trust me?”

“I –” Nikolai hadn’t given her a chance to answer, his lips already pressing against hers in a passionate kiss. His fingers gripping her waist tightly. She felt her back hit the wall with enough force to knock the breath out of her lungs. Nikolai deepened the kiss, tilting her head slightly to the left. His lips brushing against hers, his tongue sweeping her bottom lip. Her lips parting slightly into the kiss. His hands were moving up her back, pulling her closer to him. It felt like his hands were everywhere. His pleasant, intoxicating smell filling her nose, dulling her brain. His body was now pressing her hard against the wall, the doorframe digging painfully into her back. Her fingers, now tangled in his chestnut locks, had somehow found their way to his hair. She felt is fingers caress the skin at the back of her neck. All rational thought was completely erased from her mind. It was too much. It wasn’t enough. A small moan escaped her throat. Her heart was racing or maybe it was Nikolai’s? She couldn’t be sure.

A small cough reached her ears.

His lips left hers, drawing a plaintive whimper from her, only to attach themselves to her neck. She was fully aware of the next moan that escaped her, loud and breathy.

Someone cleared their throat next to them. A guard was standing there, staring at them. He looked somewhat amused but mostly uncomfortable.

Oh, it dawned on her, Nikolai is giving us a cover. It felt like a cold bucket of water had been poured on her head. She tried pushing him away, but Nikolai didn’t release his grip on her waist. Her cheeks were still flushed. She had to find a way to get her wits back. She was Ainsley Ó Ceallaigh. Not Y/N Y/L/N. It hadn’t been Nikolai, King of Ravka, kissing her. It had been Eoin Ó Ceallaigh, her husband.

“My apologies. I certainly don’t mean to interrupt” the guard was sporting a crooked smirk “but this part of the mansion is closed to the guests.” He didn’t seem to suspect anything was amiss.

“No need to apologize for doing your job, my friend,” Nikolai told the guard, his tone warm. “This is all my fault. You see I just couldn’t resist my wife’s beauty.” He pulled her in to place another kiss on her lips. Nikolai was playing his role to perfection. “We’ll go back to the party. Wouldn’t want to inconvenience you any further.” Nikolai’s hold on her waist loosened, his palm sliding to the small of her back. He used it to push her gently towards the stairs.

“Have a good night” the suggestive tone of the guard’s voice sent a fresh wave of blood to Y/N’s cheeks.

They heard the door rattle as they started walking down the stairs. The guard was checking it was locked. He would be able to report to the councilman that no one had entered the office. By the time Van Verent would realize documents were missing, Ainsley and Eoin Ó Ceallaigh would be long gone.

-----

Nikolai kept his hand pressed to Y/N’s back. She hadn’t said a word since he’d kissed her.

He knew most Grisha in Ketterdam were indentures. He had even seen the pleasure house tattoo on her left arm. Kaz had told him she was now exclusively working for the dregs but her tattoo from the House of the Blue Iris was still visible. “She keeps it as a reminder” Kaz had said. A reminder of what, though?

He’d probably crossed a line by kissing her like that. Not even giving her a chance to consider his plan. Time had been short. They didn’t have any other options. He only hoped that he hadn’t caused too much harm.

Nikolai guided her through the crowd, smiling and nodding at various dignitaries until they reached the doors leading to the garden. They should be meeting Jesper and Wylan by the porcelain cabinet, but he needed to make sure Y/N was alright first. He could feel how tense she was, her muscles stiff under his palm.

The cold air seemed to bring her out of her daze. “What are you doing? We shouldn’t be here. We should –” he could hear the insecurity in her voice.

“I know exactly where we should be.” He rested a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Are you alright?” he couldn’t quite keep the concern out of his voice.

“I’ll be perfectly fine once we get back to the plan” she spat at him. He was surprised to see how quickly she had gone back to acting as if he was the bane of her existence. He had really thought they were making progress and had almost become friends. At least, that’s what he had hoped.

She needs time. “Fine, let’s find Jesper and Wylan.” His voice was cold, perfectly controlled. He offered her a hand. He didn’t want to push, but they still had to play their part. He felt her cool fingers close around his hand.

------

Wylan’s eyes were wide, probably in surprise. They were late and they weren’t supposed to be coming from the gardens. She only hoped her lips weren’t bruised from the kiss. She didn’t want Wylan to think they were late because they had been unprofessional. She knew he’d have to report it to Kaz. Wylan was by far the worse liar of the crew. He couldn’t keep anything from their boss.

If Kaz thought Y/N was compromised, that she couldn’t do her job… She knew he wouldn’t send her back to the Blue Iris. Or did she? Kaz was known to be ruthless after all. If she fucked up the job? If she wasn’t useful anymore? She’d been with the crows for a long time now. She thought of the crows as her family. But did Kaz really think of her that way too? She’d like to believe Kaz loved her the way the same way she did. She couldn’t be sure. She was spiraling. She had to get a grip. They still had to play the part.

Jesper raised a questioning eyebrow at her. She ignored it and plastered a smile on her face. “Hello,” she had to keep herself from grimacing. Her voice had been all wrong, way too high. She tried correcting it. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

She saw the look of absolute confusion in Jesper’s eyes. Wylan looked more concerned than confused. This is bad. “Ketterdam has the most surprising weather, doesn’t it?” Wylan smiled. This was the phrase they had agreed upon to convene the success of their operation.

-----

The party had settled down about an hour later. The number of party guests dwindling steadily. Jesper and Wylan had taken their leave about 15 minutes before Y/N and Nikolai, keeping up the pretense of only having met that night.

They were now safely back at the Hendriks’ house, standing around the table in the dining room, examining the blueprints.

“Everything go according to plan?” Kaz inquired.

“Kinda” her voice was unsure. She knew it was better to tell Kaz now. She fiddled with the hem of the tablecloth.

“What do you mean ‘kinda’?” His face would’ve been unreadable to most, but Y/N could see the apprehension there.

She felt Nikolai tense up by her side. Her mind kept travelling back to the feeling of his lips on hers. She needed to focus. “It took me too long to open the safe. We were behind on the schedule and a guard came back to the hallway before we could leave.” She met Kaz’s eyes. “Don’t worry, the door was locked.”

“How did you explain what you were doing in a part of the house clearly closed to guests?” Zoya sounded curious.

Nikolai was the one to answer her, “What could a handsome man and his gorgeous wife possibly be doing in a deserted corridor in the middle of a party?” The sarcasm that laced his voice painting the picture clearly for everyone.

Y/N lowered her eyes, the blueprints suddenly very fascinating to her. She felt her cheeks flush once again.

“Quick thinking. The guard believed it?” Kaz didn’t sound mad. She risked a peek at him. He was looking directly at her. From the look he gave her she knew they weren’t done talking about this.

“No need to worry, Brekker.” Of course, Nikolai couldn’t leave it at that. He had to make it worse. “We made it believable.” He winked. “Also, Y/N is way too modest about her acting abilities.”

tagged: @power-of-words23

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #nikolai lantsov fanfic #nikolai lantsov fic #nikolai lantsov imagine #kaz brekker #wylan van eck #jesper fahey #leigh bardugo #grishaverse #grisha #nikolai series #my fic #ari's fic #have i known you 20 seconds or 20 years

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hangovercurse · 3 years

Text

Blind Date (continued)

You invite Colson in after your blind date

Request: “I loved this so much! If you get the chance and are up to it, I’d love a second part!” ”I would like to read a second part of it”

Colson X Reader

Warnings: cursing

A/N: Have I edited this? No. Did I even look back over this after I wrote it? Also no

Word Count: 1974

Your hand touched the handle before you turned around, finding Colson in the same situation at his car door, still looking at you. “Do you maybe wanna… come in?” You asked, biting your lip. His face lit up, a smirk highlighting his features.

“I would love that.”

The man’s lanky figure strutted over to your front door as you opened it, pausing as he entered to take in the smell of your house that screamed you. He let his eyes wander around the place as he stepped further in, taking off his coat and shoes at the front entryway.

You moved into the kitchen, pulling out a bottle of red wine while he made his way into the space. You found a note on the counter from your best friend and roommate.

Staying at Eric’s tonight in case you and your date need the place to yourself <3

You rolled your eyes at the note, chuckling as you tossed it in the trash. You rustled through your drawers to grab a corkscrew, fiddling with the bottle as Colson shuffled into the room, standing behind you to encase you in his arms.

He took the corkscrew from your hands and opened the bottle with ease. “I was getting there,” you whined jokingly.

He chuckled, “I could see that.” You turned around and allowed your lower back to rest against the counter, squeezed between the surface and Colson. His arms rested on the countertop on either side of you, his figure leaning to be level with you.

You couldn’t help but admire his features, his bright blue eyes and the stubble on his jaw sparking your artistic mind. “I wish I could sketch you right now,” you murmured your thoughts aloud.

He smirked, leaning closer into you, your lips almost meeting, “why don’t you?”

You smiled, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before softly speaking, “you would get bored being my model.”

He pulled away from you, fingers running across your waist until they found your hands, intertwining your fingers. “I would be honored to be your model.”

You perked an eyebrow, “seriously?”

He shrugged, “I’ve done it before for cameras, and you are much more interesting than photographers.” He pulled you away from the counter, “go get your stuff and I’ll pour wine.”

Rolling your eyes, you walked towards your art room, which was really just your bedroom, “don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

When you returned, he was wandering your small living area, a glass of wine in his hands and one on the small coffee table. His eyes danced along the picture frames you and your roommate had placed around the house when you first moved in, which you honestly hadn’t looked at since.

You stepped into the room with your sketchbook and pencils, making your presence known. His gaze drifted to you with a smile, watching you settle onto the couch, “so, is this your roommate?” He motioned towards one of the pictures.

You glanced up, smiling at the goofy picture you two had taken at graduation, “yep, that’s us.” You turned your head back to your book, flipping to the next blank page as he continued asking about your pictures.

“Who’s in this one?” He asked, pointing to a photo of your roommate and her boyfriend, Eric.

You chuckled at the image of them pulling funny faces in the front seat of a car while you sat in the background looking bored, “that’s Eric, her boyfriend. We went on this huge road trip and they swore I wouldn’t have to third wheel, but I obviously did.”

Colson let out a small laugh, taking a sip of his wine, “and who is that?”

You had honestly forgotten about the picture he was pointing to, but seeing it made your stomach fill with unease. “Oh, I forgot that was still up,” you sighed at Colson’s curious expression, “that’s me and my ex, TJ. We broke up months ago, I thought I’d gotten everything of his out of here.”

Colson could see the discomfort in your expression, sitting down on the armchair next to your couch, throwing his legs over the side and posing dramatically. “Bad ex, huh?” You nodded, not wanting to make him uncomfortable with the conversation, though you wanted nothing more than to open up to him. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

You rolled your eyes, turning so you could face him, “of all the poses, that’s what you pick?”

He smiled innocently, “yep.” A chuckle fell from your lips as you looked down at your sketchbook, pressing your pencil to the paper. “Fine, I’ll go first,” he began, “can’t really get to know each other if we don’t get at least a little bit of trauma out of the way.”

You looked up at him and giggled, “you got me there.”

He sighed, taking a sip of his wine, “Baze told me not to talk about it, but the look on your face when I asked you about him tells me you might be able to relate.” You raised an eyebrow but kept drawing, giving him a silent signal to continue. “I was dating this girl for a while, you’ve probably heard of her, Megan Fox.”

Your eyes went wide at the name, looking up at him in shock, “yeah, because that’s not an intimidating act to follow at all!”

Colson waved you off, “you’re doing great so far, don’t even worry about it.” You gave him a stern look, but he only continued with his story, “anyways, we were together for a while and she told me all the time she thought we were soulmates, and I believed her, you know?” You bit your lip, starting to feel slightly intimidated as he spoke about the woman. “But then she cheated on me after, like, 9 months. And I realized after we broke up how wrong we were for each other and how much she manipulated me.”

You frowned as he spoke, his tone getting sadder with each word. “That’s so shitty. I don’t understand why people cheat in long term relationships, especially after you’ve given them so much hope and trust. Like someone convinces you that they love you and then they go around and pull that shit. It’s evil.”

He nodded, a slight smile on his face, “I’m over it now though, in case you were worried. Came to the realization about a month or two later that I was better without her.”

You held the pencil in your hands still, trying to find the words you needed to say. “I, uh, I was dating that guy, TJ. We had been friends for a while and he asked me out and I said yes. Everything was great, you know? And then like almost a year end he starts acting all weird and possessive. Like just because we had been together for so long means he doesn’t have to treat me like his girlfriend anymore. He would make me feel like shit in front of our friends and just all around was being a shitty boyfriend.” Colson stared at you intensely with a frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed.

“A guy should never do that shit to his girl. You don’t deserve that shit, no one does.”

You nodded sadly, “yeah, well, then I found out like 4 months into all of this that he had cheated on me and gotten the girl pregnant so… I ended things real quick.” You let out a sad huff, turning your attention back to the book and continuing your sketch of the beautiful man in front of you. “I was really upset at first but now I’m just kind of angry. Dude was a dick.”

Colson let out a dry laugh as you took a long sip of wine, “sounds like it. I’m sorry you went through that shit.”

You shrugged, smiling up at him, “if I hadn’t, we wouldn’t be here.”

He chuckled, biting his lip, “guess something good came out of it.”

A blush spread across your cheeks, “oh yeah, the food was amazing.” Your words were full of sarcasm, yet the pout on his face still made you giggle, “I’m joking, loser.”

“You better be miss second-date.” You giggled but didn’t respond, turning back to draw him. It was quiet for a few moments, your pencil tracing along the paper.

He shifted, at which you glared up at him, “I told you you’d get bored.”

With a chuckle he said, “I’m not bored. I get to look at you while you draw, it’s far from boring.” You tried to look annoyed at him but failed miserably at his flattering words. “I was thinking though, since it’s my picture and all, I should get to make some executive decisions.”

You scoffed, “you chose your pose, what else would you like oh great model Colson?”

He rolled his eyes playfully, stretching his arm out to set his glass on the table. “Well, I mentioned that I have some tattoos,” he reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up, “you should draw them.”

Once his shirt was fully removed from his body, you couldn’t help but gawk just a little. His entire chest was covered in ink, designs beautifully engraved into his skin. “I was gonna make a joke about this only being our first date but holy shit, these are beautiful.”

He blushed, looking down shyly, ”I was honestly scared you weren’t gonna like them.”

You looked at him with wide eyes, “Seriously? This is so cool. I’m an artist, you really think I’m not gonna like tattoos? Its an art form in itself.”

Colson shrugged, moving back to his pose, expecting you to continue your drawing. Instead, your eyes wandered his torso, taking in every detail of the work. “If you’re lucky,” he commented slyly, “one day I might show you all of them.”

You rolled your eyes with a scoff, moving back into drawing position, “you think you’re so cool.”

A breathy laugh fell from his lips, “I do, actually.”

The two of you continued banter-laced conversation while you drew him, his likeness coming to life on your page. At some point it turned into 3 am, and you were struggling to keep your eyes opened, but you were finished.

“Here.” You turned the book to him, letting him take in your work. He didn’t speak for a few moments, causing worry to build in you. “I mean, it’s no Mona Lisa but-“

“That is fucking amazing.” He cut you off with a wide smile, “you make me look hot.”

You rolled your eyes with a grin, “I’m not going to feed your ego by saying something super lame like “that’s just what you look like,” but I’m glad you like it.” He chuckled at your response, climbing off of the chair to stand in front of you.

“Damn, I was really hoping to get my ego fed tonight.” He grabbed the sketchbook from you and threw it onto the couch next to you before grabbing your hands and pulling you up to stand.

You smiled to yourself, chest shaking with silent laughter, “does the sketch not feed it enough?”

He shook his head, “I need the approval of a really pretty girl to satisfy its hunger.”

Rolling your eyes, you leaned up into him, “you gotta work harder than that, Rockstar.” Your words came out breathy against his lips as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

His mouth connected to yours, the kiss deep and passionate. His soft lips meshed perfectly with yours, his hands pulling you up to stand on your tiptoes. Once you pulled away you stayed close to him, breathing in his intoxicating scent. He whispered, “I never thought a blind date could turn out so well.”

#mgk #mgk imagine #mgk fluff #machine gun kelly #machine gun kelly imagine #machine gun kelly x reader #Colson baker #colson x reader #colson baker imagine #colson baker fluff #colson imagine

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annie-mit-ie · 3 years

Text

Glimpses: Part 9 (Kathryn Hahn x Fem!Reader)

Part 1 // previous chapter <<< >>> next chapter

Summary: Are you... finally having a date?

Word Count: 2.6k

A/N: Hey y’all! Again, I apologize for the delay but uni didn’t allow for me to have some free time to write. I’ll try to upload something earlier next week and hope you enjoy the new chapter until then! xxx

_____________________________________________________________________________

“Wish I could've seen your beautiful face on my screen tonight, sweetheart.“ You stare at your phone. Is she… flirting? By now it’s too late, so you can’t ask Alex for help since she is already sound asleep on her side of the world. You ruffle your hair and let your head fall to the back to look at the ceiling. Taking in a deep breath, you close your eyes and consider your options. Tonight, it’s only you, your phone and Kathryn.

Unsure of what to do, you opt for the safer way and start a conversation rather than flirt with her right away, because honestly, you don’t even know what to do. “You know, we all actually hoped you guys would be able to see us, too.“

You are not sure if you blew it with that, but then again it’s not like you and Kathryn haven’t talked about things the fans think before, not that you are not one of them, but that’s a different story. She takes a while to respond and you throw your phone on the bed before lying down on your back.

Looking up at the stars on your ceiling, you reflect on what happened within the last week until your phone lights up again. You lie there for a short while waiting for Kathryn to respond and think about what plans you have for the rest of the week. You train of thought gets stopped when your phone lights up. You turn to your side to look at it and realize it lit up, yes, but this time there is no new message. Instead, additionally to lighting up, your phone starts to vibrate as hold it in your hand - a familiar face looking right at you. Yours. She is calling you. KATHRYN. On Facetime.

Shocked as you are, you throw your phone across the room and as you try to catch it you hit it again, which only makes it fly further away. You immediately jump after it and fall from your bed in the process, taking a tumble before rolling off on the floor. Typical you and you would roll your eyes at yourself right now, if only you weren’t so busy reaching out for your phone.

For a moment, you think about how you could’ve hit your head pretty hard just a second ago, but somehow your body went into god mode and you managed to roll off pretty quickly. Phone in hand you are lying on the floor, all sprawled out as the time runs out to pick up the call. Gladly, you remember you should and take it as you still lie on the floor.

“Kathryn?“, you try to catch your breath. “Sweetheart, HEY!“, you catch a glimpse of her as you’re getting up to sit on your chair and hear her laugh. “What exactly are you doing, Y/N? You look… You are a mess, honey! WHAT HAPPENED?“

You immediately stop in your motion and look at her while running a hand through your hair trying to look more presentable. “I…“, you stutter. “I… I.. My phone… Floor. I had to… It’s…“

“Sweetheart you gotta take a breath for me now.“, she looks at you concerned.

“Yes, thank you Kathryn, yes. Hello there! I’m sorry. I might’ve hit my head actually. I’m not sure.“ She smiles once again while she is looking at you with her warm, blue eyes, as she gives you another minute to calm down after you ramble. “Well, I’m glad I get to see you now. I hate those one sided video things, especially since I’ve missed your face.“ She winks.

“You saw me like… 5 days ago. You’ll live.“ You can’t help but laugh at her antics once again and the both of you sit in comfortable silence for a moment until she breaks it. “Anyway, I am calling because I wanted to know if you will come and spend some time in my garden again this weekend.“ The words leave her mouth and you hear her but your brain seems unable to comprehend what is being said. How can this be your life right now?

While you are caught up in your thoughts Kathryn continues talking. “I promise this time we’ll stay at my place. No surprise gigs or anything to attend. Just the gals hanging out.“ You want to ask her if this is a date, you really do, but you can’t get yourself to be bold like that. Instead you just shoot her a wide smile as she waits for your answer and nod. “Yes! Absolutely! I mean… We never got to finish that bottle of wine we opened, so…“

Now it’s her turn to nod and you both fall silent again. Even though you are fully comfortable sitting in silence and just spending time with her in real life, it feels different on Facetime. Kathryn seems to notice rather quickly and breaks the silence again.

“Well, Sweetheart. I’ll let you go because I’m sure you’ve got other things to do. I will send you details for the weekend as soon as I know what my schedule looks like and then I’ll have Peter pick you up again?“

“That sounds amazing!…“ And you should've stopped there but at the same time you feel a little adventurous, so you throw a common phrase in there that Alex uses any chance she gets. Realizing you could always say you don’t mean it that way makes it even easier - after all Kathryn doesn’t know you actually do. “It’s a date!“

Her smile turns into a wide grin. “It’s a date. I’ll see you on Saturday then.“

“Not if I see you first.“

—

You don’t see her first. Kathryn would never admit it, but she is in fact very nervous and paces up and down the house waiting for you. She fully cleaned all of it last night already, knowing that you would come over today.

When she hears Peter and you arrive with the car, she walks up to the front door immediately and opens it right as you exit the car. You're wearing a flow-y summer dress again and your hair falls your shoulders in beautiful curls. A pair of sunglasses is propped up on top of your head and she can see you squinting your eyes against the sun.

Kathryn is leaning against the door frame as Peter sees you off and the two of you laugh about a dad joke he makes. She likes how you get along with everyone around her so well and her heart skips a beat as you turn around and your eyes meet. She is beautiful. A dark green pantsuit, that Kathryn combined with a white shirt (including the rolled up sleeves, of course), is hanging loosely off her shoulder. Her hair is in its usual curly mess and slowly moves in the wind as a fresh breeze hits her face.

Faster than anticipated you make your way up to her and wrap her up into a hug that, according to your consideration, is a little bit longer than a usual hug. She holds onto you just as tight and her hand wanders up to the back of your neck. When you finally let go of earth other you forget to put distance between your bodies again, so you find yourself just a couple inches away from her face once again.

“You look… stunning.“ She says as her hand softly pushes back a strand of hair behind your right ear.

“THANK YOU!“, you say in a high pitched voice as your eyes widen because of how embarrassing that voice raise was. “You look beautiful as always yourself, Kathryn.“

The smile on her face tells you that the compliment is sitting very well with her and you decide to keep a bit of the mystery, so you brush against her as you walk inside the house and make your way to the door thats leading to the garden.

Stunned, Kathryn stays in the doorframe for a moment before following you out onto the patio. She reaches you before you can reach the seating area because you purposefully strolled a little and appreciated the beauty of her backyard.

“I love your dress! That color and fit is just… you look beautiful, Y/N.“ You blush and it doesn’t go unnoticed by her as she has just caught up to you. The two of you have reached the couch and she offers you to sit first and makes sure you have a drink and everything you need before she makes herself comfortable. Just like last time, she sits down across from you first, keeping the mystery and all.

The Kathryn you get to meet now is not that much different from the Kathryn you met within the last two weeks. She is funny and open and, if anything has changed, then it is the fact that she is much more relaxed without all the other people around.

As she tells you about her latest interview fails and gives you inside on her life, you can’t help but fall for her a little more, especially whenever she throws her head back as she laughs wholeheartedly.

When it’s your turn to tell stories, you tell her about your childhood hobbies and how does might effect your future. She is very interested in arts and you immediately agree to meet up again to create something together. Talking about how you spend your free time, you finally mention Alex and talk about how fast she became your best friend. Just as always, she makes you feel like you are the most important person on the planet as you talk and somehow you feel like Alex becomes important to her as well, the moment you talk about how important she is to you.

With every glass she pours, Kathryn scooches a little closer to you until your knees nearly touch. Whenever you laugh about a joke, she reaches out to put her right hand on your leg and as you finish the first bottle of wine and she decides to order pizza as the sun starts to set, she plops down right next to you after getting the menu off the kitchen table.

Being fully comfortable with her now, you let yourself sink into her shoulder as the two of you browse the pizza names to see what you want to order. Luckily, you make a decision rather quickly while Kathryn needs some time, so you can enjoy the moment of closeness for a little while longer.

For the very first time, you realize how good her hair smells and how calming her aura is. You close your eyes to take it all in and smile to yourself about the sheer happiness that you are feeling in this very moment.

Kathryn notices how calm you have gotten and leans back as her left arm sneakily finds its way across your shoulder to hold you close to her. Leaning back into the couch, she pulls you with her and the both of you sit in silence as you listen to her heartbeat.

After a while, you hear a deep growl and Kathryn gets startled out of her meditational state. “Oh I’m sorry! I must be hungrier than I thought I am.“

She takes out her arm from behind you again and reaches for the menu and her phone to call the delivery service. When the pizza arrives and she comes back from the front door, she sits down on the other side of the couch once again and you immediately miss being by her side.

The pizza is nice, maybe even the best pizza you’ve had from any delivery service before, and by the time you finished eating, the sun has fully set. Not sure how she is going to react, you fiddle with your fingers for a moment before making a proposal.

“I.. actually arranged something. I looked up Peter’s agency and asked for his number and asked him if he could take us somewhere tonight. I mean.. If you’d wanna go?“

Once again speechless, Kathryn looks at you with wide eyes and raised eyebrows as her face is beaming from excitement. “Absolutely! Do we… need anything or are we good to go right away?“ It’s nice that she wants to help, but she doesn’t have to. Alex and you have planned for this very moment all week and talked it all through several times, so that Peter and you could arrange the surprise for Kathryn.

You help her up from the couch and lead her back into the house, where a filled basket, that has magically appeared, is waiting at the front door. Peter is already waiting in the car ready to take you to the stars.

It’s a rather short drive as he takes you to a little meadow on a hill where you can look over Los Angeles in between rocks and trees and actually see the stars as well. Naturally, he stays in the car and ready a book as the two of you walk up to the corner of the hill, where a small spot suggests that lots of couples have spent some time there.

“This is perfect, Y/N. I….“ She looks at you before looking up at the night sky and stops talking as she feels your eyes on her. Your fingers on the blanket are close enough to hers that you can feel her warmth and you slowly move them closer. Neither of you breaks eye contact as your hands touch and a tingles move through all of your body.

You bite the inside of your lower lip in anticipation as you cup her hand with yours completely. Giving it one last squeeze, you let go and cup her face instead. Slowly, you move closer until you can feel her breath on your lips. Looking into her eyes for one last time, you overcome the remaining inches and capture her lips in a longing kiss as your hands find their way into her long hair.

Leaning into the kiss with a little too much force, combined with the fact that she is so focused on the way you make her feel, makes her lose balance and she falls backwards onto the blanket. Before you can do anything about it, you find yourself on top of Kathryn who is grinning and goes in for yet another kiss. Now she is the one who is holding onto you and her hands glide all over your body as she takes no measures to get you off of her.

You make out with her in that position for a short moment, before she stops in her tracks. “We can’t. Not like that. Not out here. I’m sorry, Sweetheart.“

“Oh no, don’t be sorry. You are absolutely right.“ You smile and kiss her shortly for one last time before getting off of her. “Let’s go back home? It’s getting rather cold anyway.“

“Home? Are you… Staying over tonight?“ She looks at you, unsure of what to expect.

For a moment you consider if you should play it save, but thinking about everything that happened tonight, you decide to go into full offense and shoot your shot while you wink at her. “Well, Ms. Hahn. Seems like you are asking me to stay, so I might as well.“

She looks at you and you can tell she is biting her lip before she looks back at the lights in front of her as she grabs your hand. “Please stay, Y/N. I would love that.“

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