#newyearskissmeme;
Note
“New Years Kiss”
Send “New Years Kiss” to give my muse a kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve
It was early twenties in Chicago. Christmas decor was still up in the little speak easy she met Stefan Salvatore for the first time months ago. The lounge singer started singing Auld Lang Syne. She felt the Salvatore pull her into a New Years Kiss admist the the cheering. "Shall we toast?" Rebekah handed Stefan the compelled human's arm. Add a bit of blood to their champange.
@brokenbrxther
0 notes
Note
🎉
the first kiss of the decade. ll not accepting.
The light cannot reach them on this distant shore, though explosions echo on the horizon. Beyond the River Gjoll, revelers twirled drunkenly through the night, their merriment audible even across the veil.
Not that they would have to try.
Seated at the black sands, Hel found herself disinterested in the living who strayed too close. Such uncharacteristic lack of curiosity might be noteworthy, were it not for the company at her side. Between them, there was only the low murmur of a count, the soft hiss of sand as Hel worried her fingers in and out of the ground. A great burst roared across another sky, and the celebrant mortals began to cheer, and in the dark, Nanna smiled.
They called Baldr the brightest jewel Hel ever held, in a stunning show of ignorance. She had never held her cousin, never gone against nature, but there were others that brought her arms to ache for wanting. The new year and all its promise drove her to daring, to the gem that sparkled most beautifully in the dim.
Barely a breath had passed between the cheer of a new year born and the croon of Nanna’s name. As the goddess turned, Hel found her body moving of its own accord, sandy fingers twining against Nanna’s, noses bumping with unskilled affection. Somewhere, in that first moment, the queen managed to strike true, lips upon lips, nerves against breath.
Norns, but she was sweet.
Heat surged inward from Hel’s lips, reddening her face as she pulled back from her lady. Perhaps the merrymaking beyond would be enough to cover the shake of her lungs, the hard swallow, that followed her daring. Nanna had not stopped smiling. The very idea was unbelievable. Leaping to her feet, she called for her found, Garmr instead throwing himself at Nanna’s side with a lazy grin.
Even the dog was mocking her now.
“It is late, my lady, and many will want to be in my company tomorrow,” she offered, with a low nod. “I… will leave you to your evening, and thank you for your time.” A pause. “And happy new year.”
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
New Year's Kiss [Marcel]
Send “New Years Kiss” to give my muse a kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve
New Orleans on New Years Eve was always a spectacle besides Mardi Gras. It was few minutes after mightnight. Everyone was sharing kisses and hugs. Marcel appeared just in time to share a kiss with her under the fireworks, and streamers of the city's celebration of the New Year. "Happy New Year, Marcellus." Rebekah wished him. After parting from the kiss. "Do you have a new year resolution?"
@redemptivexheroics
0 notes
Note
New Years Kiss
Send “New Years Kiss” to give my muse a kiss at midnight on New Year’s Eve
Watching fireworks after the countdown. Rebekah did not expect to share a kiss with anyone. The doppelganger, Elena had surprised her with a new years kiss. It was short and sweet. With everything they've been through. For a brief moment in the celebatory noise she smiled. "Happy New Year, Elena." Her mean and sarcastic quips at the doppelganger took a back seat for the night.
@the-last-doppelganger
1 note
·
View note
Note
🎉 - from Death
the first kiss of the decade. ll accepting. ll @thereforall
There is no telling what was in her glass.
A fine vintage is like that, when it’s smuggled out from Tir na Nog. She has tasted the rain of centuries, the ebb and flow of queens, the secrets that fattened the grapes that became her drink. Beyond that, Hel knows nothing, and the Cluracan’s high mood turns him into an inter-dimensional man of mystery.
He can keep his secrets, too, so long as her glass is never empty.
Ignorant to its present whereabouts, she sheds not a single tear. The night is so lively in this pretty Dublin tumbledown, air electric with languages within and beyond her ken. The table beneath her holds strong against her airy footing, the stomp of heel and twist of ankle. Her skirt kisses at appreciative onlookers, old gods and wights and ghosts alike keeping beat with whatever was available. This, too, is intoxicating, more than the wine could ever be.
At some point, her hair was loosed, ribbons traded for more of the fool Faerie’s wine. The dark locks twist down her back now, ticking at the base of her neck. It became her mantle as she danced, her face shielded from those who watched her, vision blanketed by the scented tresses. Through it all, though, something begins to come into focus, someone.
Dark she is, and beautiful, beyond compare. Hel sees her, and she smiles, coming to a stop with her chest heaving. Applause rose up with the death of music, and it doesn’t matter at all. Red-cheeked, she steps nearer to the edge of her stage, daintily dropping to sit on the edge. From here, she can be eye to eye with the Endless, without need to crane her swan’s neck for a better view of ebony eyes and soft smiles.
The clock chimes and, unthinking, Hel presses her mouth to Death’s, smearing her lips with dark lacquer. As the abandoned farmhouse echoes with excitement, she grins down at her dearest friend, impish, breath sickly sweet with wine and poor decisions.
“Happy New Year, my Lady.” she croaks, and then, turning her head to be heard above the din – “Cluracan! A glass for my Lady! And where’s mine gone–”`
2 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
beefdogcoffee
addi
ubircsworld
Sem título
ubircsworld
Sem título
characterxreader
~Character and Reader~
gurukultakshshila
Gurukul Takshshila