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[ text ] i miss you - @3brihd
that text took him by surprise. he read it over and over for a few moments, his playlist on at a moderate volume in his headphones. the psychic chewed on his bottom lip for a moment while he typed numerous replies, then deleting them.
[TXT - HOPE] - you miss me huh? [TXT - HOPE] - i'll admit, i wasn't expecting that
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@3brihd liked for a starter.
❝ THE ROMANI HAVE THIS FOLK LEGEND about vampire pumpkins and watermelons. It's really quite interesting. They're called vampire fruits because of how they suck the nutrients from other living things. One of the main indications that a pumpkin or melon is about to undergo a vampiric transformation is said to be the appearance of a drop of blood on its skin. ❞
@3brihd asked: " look what the wind blew in ... "
once upon a time, when he was still young and inexperienced in the arts of being a vampire, he had met the mikaelsons. they had been all over new orleans back then, when louis was looking to expand his business in storyville and get the rise out of everyone who thought a man of his complexion would never dare rise that high. the mikaelsons had helped cement his name into the story of the city ( that is, of course, until they left without a trace after a fire and then, of course, years later, louis followed with his sweet claudia ). "i was hopin' my arrival would be a bit more. . .quiet." the vampire points out. those eyes are familiar at best, one klaus mikaelson often had that glint in his eyes when louis met him back in the day. it was wise to assume his daughter would have that same glint. "i was not expecting a mikaelson to welcome me back to my hometown."
@nklsdttr / liked for a starter
𝐄𝐗𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐖𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐒 𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐌, but he doesn't let it show for long. The Darkling tilts his head, smirking at her. At the warrior in front of him.
❝ If you want to bring me down, ❞ he taunts, the shadows curling around his shoulders. His entire frame. He blacks out the room, the darkness he's summoned is so thick. ❝ Go ahead and try, little one. ❞
❝ have you come to laugh at me in my miserable state? ❞
@3brihd liked this starter call
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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@3brihd liked for a new year’s kiss !
scattered books & tattered window panes . a smell of bog & drunken humans littering the street. how many rounds did they go tonight ? two beast with wild stamina. tribrid & hybrid coiled in one another for what felt like days. magic bouncing off one another with each heated kiss. & now they laid , he had her wrapped in his arms. fingertips brushing through hair as she laid on his chest. the sound of the bell ringing too loudly for his taste. ─── but why not go with the mundane tradition ? thumb & index sliding underneath her chin to dip her head back enough for him to capture lips with lips. it was far more gentle than his rough & hungry needs. it was kind yet still lingering with desire. his smirk widening as he pulled back to gaze at the heavy crown in his arms. how lucky he had been. ‘ happy new year's , my queen ’
@3brihd 𝔉𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢
𝔄 𝔱𝔥𝔦𝔫 𝔟𝔯𝔬𝔴 𝔞𝔯𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡 in surprise. ❝ Really? But those cheekbones, those eyes, the inner turmoil looming within their depths ... you make the consummate muse.❞ The corners of her mouth curled inwards, painted nails delicately clasping the sides of her canvas. She tilted the painting towards her captive audience. The scene displayed was nothing short of a Bosch fuelled nightmare, scores of strange, unhappy figures, each even more miserable than the last descending into the darkened depths of what could only be hell. The skyline of her masterpiece was littered with white doves, each sporting a wounded heart on their chests. In the middle of this chaos, her muses face loomed, like a tragic heroine.
The matriarch's smile became wider, unperturbed by her own work. ❝ Here darling, why dont you keep it. ❞
☾ * kinda plotted starter ft. @3brihd
feeling unwanted was no longer the case. she found someone to run to, a home in a person. malia wouldn’t have imagined she were to consider @3brihd something so untainted, yet there she was. hands hidden in the pockets of her denim jacket, warm gaze flickering towards hope. ❛ i don’t think i’m made to be in packs, ❜ she uttered underneath her breath, albeit burdening her psyche with self-doubt. all she learned for the past decade was how to rely on herself, self perseverance tainting her affiliation with humanity – or what was left of it, anyway. ❛ like, i am cool just with you. isn’t that enough? ❜ she queried, bewilderment seizing malia.
