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@iahnus
IAHNUS. a highly private and mature portrayal of Christopher Robin Hargrave from the original Cabal universe, written and cursed by Lyn. Extremely mature and sensitive content present, open to those 21+ only. An exploration of obsessive fatalism, religious fanatism, and original vampire mythology. Affiliated with @bak3rs and @abdic8te.
˚₊‧꒰ა 🐬 💿 🌊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ -> HANDS ARE WARM .. against her thighs. it caused her skin to flush. blood rushed to that spot. no longer cold .. she felt like she was over heating. knew that her cheeks were scarlet red by now. she could still easily blame it on the bath. on the hot water. a breath escaped thin lips. heavy. ellie's head was a little fuzzy still. but she was starting to get her senses back. slowly. the brunette should tell him to go. to leave. to not come back tonight. but with christopher kneeling in front of her. on his knees for her. after dressing her. after restraining himself. she couldn't. she needed him. as much as he needed her. a quiet whine escaped the back of her throat , as her head tilted to the side. blue eyes watched him - watched him look up at her .. with the hunger in his gaze. it almost ate her alive. ❝ kiss .. ❞ she stumbled over the word. brows furrowed low. before she took a deep breath in. leaning forward .. she came close to his face. lips almost brushing against his. ❝ kiss me. ❞ hands came up .. no longer shaking. no longer cold. slender fingers lightly touched both cheeks. before she held onto his face. ❝ kiss me. ❞ her face crumpled. ❝ kiss me , chris. kiss me. ❞
Eyes closed the first time she said it, just to soak it all in. The sound of it, the desperation in the reluctant stumble — it could have elicited a groan just as easily as it elicited a whine from her, but reduced to a breath, it certainly felt even hotter as it burned in the back of his throat. “ You have no, ” drawled out so languidly that it tasted wet, “ idea how often I’ve dreamed of you saying that. ” Her hands on his cheeks were met with a brief digging of his nails into the skin of her thighs before a hand of his own came up to snare around her delicate neck — to hold her as much as to pull her charming head closer to him. He took his sweet time actually kissing her, far too arousing was the sensation of her breath on his lips. And when he did kiss her, if was accompanied with a small moan. “ I want your tongue, ” a nip on her bottom lip while the snare around her neck tightened just a little, “ I want your spit... ”
GEORGE MACKAY AS NED KELLY True History of the Kelly Gang (2019) dir. Justin Kurzel
˚₊‧꒰ა 🐬 💿 🌊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ -> A SOFT SIGH .. escapes her when she feels herself become weightless again. the young gibbs isn't surprised that he knows his way around. that all he has to do is step out of the bathroom and into the hall .. turn left. down a couple of rooms. pass what was her father's. what used to be a study and into her room just at the top of the stairs. ellie knew that he knew her home like the back of his hand. that the very thought of lerory jethro gibbs sleeping on the couch downstairs didn't deter christoper hargrave at all. eyes droop close for a second. only to open when she feels herself being placed down on her bed. the mattress dipping under her in a familiar way. the towel was a blessed thing. it had clung around her the entire time. not once slipping. but it was uncomfortable .. wet. and heavy. and certainly not what she wanted to sleep in. so ellie nodded her head. as she let her arms shift from around his shoulders .. hands moving down his chest .. before they came to rest in her lap. short legs pulled up underneath her. ❝ yes. ❞ she whispered. blue eyes moved around her room then - finding her desk chair. lifting a hand , she pointed towards it. ❝ they're there. ❞ she continued. ❝ help me get dressed ? ❞
Even then he knows where to look before Ellie can begin pointing a finger. Her room is his favourite place to look for her: she’s in the small details, the photographs hung upon her wall, the cardigan tossed over the back of a chair. It’s gotten to a point where he’d probably notice a thing getting misplaced before she does. Fingers memorise the fabric’s feeling when he pulls her pyjamas off the desk chair and carries them over to her. With an almost inherent devotion, Christopher helps peel away the towel before letting her slip into the much more comfortable choice of clothes — what’d be the alternative? There could’ve been a certain bitterness to the realisation she’d never let him tend to her like this while sober, but he doesn’t want to jinx it. With every inch of skin he first exposes and then conceals, he can feel his hunger writhing in his stomach. She’s so beautiful: the wet strands of hair, the slight shiver of her skin when the cold breeze slips through open windows, the near invisible fuzz of hair on her when he looks closely enough. He could lick it, bite it, feed on it. But alas... Self-restraint. Christopher looks up when she’s fully clothed, lingering on his knees by the side of her bed and his hands on her legs. “ Anything else? ” a husky baritone that doesn’t quite hide the itch he feels or the need to sink both teeth and claws into her, but he tries to restrain it anyhow.
George MacKay as Lewis Aldridge The Outcast (2015) Episode 02
˚₊‧꒰ა 🐬 💿 🌊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ -> BLUE EYES NEVER .. once leave his face. this was bad. very bad. she almost never touched him. and he never touched her. at least - not that she knew of. he could have done so .. when he sneaks into her bedroom. and watches her sleep. stays in the corner of her room - underneath aqua blue fairy lights. surrounded by walls filled of childhood memories and a man that was almost her husband - like a golem standing guard. the thought made her stomach swoop. she shouldn't like it. but maybe the alcohol still in her system was making her inhibitions non existent. fingers remained against his lips .. even when they parted. she was so very tempted to press them against his tongue. to grab a hold of his lower jaw. pull him down and kiss him. but she resists. as much as she can. the question makes her still. blood rushing to her cheeks. to her stomach. lower. brows furrow. her heart rate rises. will she ? she never let him in in the first place. he had just appeared. like a scar you can't really remember how you got. but - what if she did ? would theo like that ? would chris rescuing theo cancel out all the BAD DEEDS that ellie did while he was presumed dead ? she doesn't know the answer to that. so instead she gives him a command. ❝ take me to bed , christopher. ❞
He would not have dared to — thought about it, sure. Long and hard. Fantasised far too often about how he’d touch her when he was finally given permission to, and where. The depravity of his went as far as going through her clothes when she wasn’t home or sleeping sound enough, rationalised by the reasoning that he ought to know what she liked to wear for the unlikely but not impossible eventuality of her visiting him over night. But he’d never have touched her, not without her explicit command. He liked self-restraint far too much for it.
Which made the sudden change of her scent overwhelmingly dazing. Christopher ignored the hunger itching his teeth, failing to prevent a small groan from crawling up his throat in response anyhow. But back to his feet he went, lifting her up together with himself. That he knew her home blind was perhaps the biggest piece of evidence for the frequency with which he visited her, and yet it came in handy, didn’t it? Finding her room and her bed inside of it without having to think twice about what way to turn.
“ Do you want me to get you your pyjamas? ” The towel surely wasn’t particularly comfortable to wear under the blanket, and the alternative was, well, nothing at all — a thought his mind lingered on a little too long for his liking. The window to her bedroom was open as usual when he was around. “ Anything, ” Christopher's baritone pushed out while letting her down onto her mattress, “ anything you want. ”
BRIDGERTON (2020-)
˚₊‧꒰ა 🐬 💿 🌊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ -> BREATH ESCAPES HER .. as she feels herself become weightless. chris had always been able to lift her easily. like she never weighed anything more than a feather. if she was more sober - she would feel bad about getting him wet. but instead she let her head lull and come to a lie against his shoulder. eyes slid shut when he sat her in his lap. another hum rested at the back of her throat. liking the feel of him drying her hair. there was a couple of seconds of silence. before she lifted her head - blue eyes opening .. watching him. watching him watch her. her gut rolled in that familiar way it always did around christopher. he always made her feel .. some type of way. and she never wanted to name it. especially not now. not when she's wanting him to find theo for her. not after the trauma of losing her baby. ❝ kind of. ❞ she mumbled .. a slight laugh left her. one of her hands moved .. lifting towards his face. one slender index finger moved to press against the edge of his nose. running down warm skin. ❝ made me more sleepy. ❞ she continued. finger moved from his nose .. her knuckle then came to move over his cheek - under his eye. then came to his lips. pad of her finger lightly pressing against them. ❝ chris .. have you .. ❞ she breathed. she shouldn't ask. she didn't want to ruin the mood.
Her touch made him strain against the constraints of his skin and clothes, distracting him from the task of drying her off to linger in that momentary indulgence. She never touched him. Although, correction : almost never. Most of his compulsive existence around her was restricted to watching her from the corner of her room or, if spatial proximity wasn’t a possibility, watching her from the corner of her mind like a parasite in the windings of her brain. He liked either — but the touch made his his throat even dryer and thirstier than before. Lips parted, barely fighting against the urge to wrap around her finger and hollow his cheeks. “ Soon, ” he promised instead, “ I’ve already seen it. I can see him waiting. ” Hands presumed their prior duty of patting her hair dry with the towel. And he could, indeed, vaguely perhaps but still : somewhere out there, Theo’s blood waited for him to track it down. “ Will you still let me into your home when I’ve brought him back? ”
˚₊‧꒰ა 🐬 💿 🌊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ -> THERE'S A HUM AT THE .. back of her throat. before a lazy smile crossed her lips. she should have told him to leave. like all the times before. but she didn't. maybe she just missed having someone there , who wasn't her father. theo was gone. and she was still grieving that loss like a child. maybe chris was the distraction that she needed. she couldn't help but lean into him - as he pulled on loose hair. ❝ not really. ❞ there was a snort. her friends were great - but sometimes they were a little much for ellie. which is why she was home early. her body moved then - the water going with her. pressing against the side of the tub. blue eyes caught his. ❝ help me out ? ❞ it was such an innocent question. drunk ellie wasn't mortified at the idea of chris seeing her naked - not like sober ellie would be. he had seen her like that already.
“ Hmh, come here. ” The shift back to his feet was immediate, and the immediacy and casualness of taking a towel to wrap her in while scooping her up, entirely symptomatic of his obsession for all that was Elenore Gibbs. He could not have cared less whether she’d wet his clothes, but the water was warm and the air was not, and he pulled her out of the tub and onto his lap, making sure she wouldn’t touch the cool tiles underneath. The entirety of her — from the curve of her neck to the smell of soap — it could have made him sink his teeth into her flesh, like into the flakey layers of a buttery croissant. And she’d taste sweeter, he was sure. But still, Christopher resisted. Fingers took another towel between his hands to dry her hair, eyes lingering on the pulse behind her ear. He was so hungry for her all the time — whether he was right next to her or dozens of miles away. To consume her, to posess her ... but alas.
“ And did the bath make it better? ” Not even an entirely absentminded question, but he didn’t want to mention her late almost-husband. He didn’t want to mention the child she never told him about either. He’d noticed, of course. He noticed everything about her, and wrote it down. But she'd asked him to find Theodore once and until he'd managed to live up to his golem promise and brought him home, he did not want to rub salt into the wound.
˚₊‧꒰ა 🐬 💿 🌊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ -> MAYBE SHE SHOULDN'T .. have mixed her sickness with a couple of drinks. maybe she should have just taken her tablets .. gotten into bed .. and gone to sleep. her flu was awful. having almost knocked her off her feet. but she had promised her friend that she would come out. go clubbing. so she did. ignoring the headache. ignoring the fever. she downed a couple of shots and a few yager bombs. three red bulls and vodkas. ellie had no idea how she made it home. but she did. the brunette lent over the edge of the bath tub - her head STILL a throbbing mess. worse than at the start of the night. staring down at the tiled floor. the water was warm still. the quiet was nice. the ringing in her ears was still present. but she did her best to ignore it. it wasn't long until a figure stepped through the door. blue eyes looked up and she .. wasn't even surprised. ❝ you're lucky dad isn't home. ❞ she mumbled. head tilting to the side , so that her cheek pressed against her forearm. watching chris with sleepy eyes. ❝ other wise he would have kicked you out hours ago. ❞
˚₊‧꒰ა 🐬 💿 🌊 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ -> @iahnus 🏝️ liked ❝ for this specific starter ❞
It was hard to keep the jealousy at bay whenever she was out with her friends, and not exactly for the usual reasons. She hardly brought someone home, difficult as it was to get past old Gibbs — but to think that he couldn’t accompany her, that he couldn’t be the one paying for her drinks without any judgemental stares ... It was maddening. She was maddening. The slur of her voice suited her somehow, then again, anything did. He closed the door behind him once he’d peeled himself off the doorframe, rolling his sleeves up before sitting down right next to the tub.
“ Charming as always, ” deadpanned in a baritone . Calloused fingertips tugged on a wisp of wet hair absentmindedly. “ Did you have fun? ”
˚₊‧꒰ა 🎄🎅🏼 ❄️ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ -> SHE'S WRAPPED IN A JUMPER .. her fathers. the red usmc one. it dwarfs her frame - but it keeps her warm. she's curled up on her bed - the soft blue glow of her fairy lights fill the room .. and bathe chris in the soft glow. her heart stutters in her chest and she knows she shouldn't leave the window open for him - but when she spotted the extra present under the tree that morning .. she knew he would be by later that night. ❝ course i did. ❞ she replied sitting up. pulling the cd player from underneath her pillow. ❝ and i listened to the album you left me too .. ❞ a slight smile pulled at the corner of her lips. ❝ i didn't know you were so well versed in australian bands ? ❞
“ I’m not, ” he answers, but there’s an immediate grin when she appears somewhat happy with his present. He likes her happy –– in a weird, inexplicable way it’s the only time that he feels genuinely accomplished. Hands peel the jacket off his frame, together with the gloves he wears nearly all the time. For good reason too : Jethro Gibbs would probably notice the recurring fingerprints on his daughter’s window. “ But, you know, you always say you kind of miss Australia. And I’m not terribly good at mimicking your accent so this is the closest I thought I’d get to bringing a piece of it home. ” He takes off his shoes and neatly places them by the window so he doesn’t spread snow and mud everywhere when he walks through her room and makes himself comfortable on the foot of her bed. “ Would you have preferred a different band? I could probably get you a different album next time I get a check. ”
˚₊‧꒰ა 🎄🎅🏼 ❄️ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ -> BLUE EYES NARROWED .. ever so slightly. that was a .. weird thing to say. he was weird. arms crossed over her chest. and she let her head fall to the side. watching him with the intense interest of a ten year old. the question was a little personal. but being an inpatient at plainsboro has given her enough experience with blunt people. ❝ i'm sick. ❞ came her honest reply. ❝ not - like .. coughing sick. ❞ she continued. ❝ but .. people say my brain is a little screwy. ❞
It's ever so subtle but his brows lift just the littlest amount : screwy is an odd way to refer to a brain, but then again, it’s never occurred to him that brains might be different at all. Yet surely if bones can break, so can the brain? So he drops his brows again. “ And moving rooms is helping you unscrew it? ” It doesn’t really follow, many things don’t. In the end, he just knows he doesn’t like the fact that she’s no longer behind the door that she initially was. There’s a sense of … comfort in her face, he’s not quite sure how to put it. Her face looks perfectly familiar –– but he’s sure once Bill finishes the business deal down the street, there won’t be any visiting the Plainsboro any time soon. That, he dislikes too. “ Where are you going when they finish unscrewing it? ”
the concept of only having blogs for theo wells (ellies husband) and christopher robin (ellies stalker) and being tempted to revive peter bishop (kats twin)... i exist for @bak3rs
cb i yielded and now have @episcopat as some sort of catch-all + peter in addition to @gostridr
Preston (George MacKay) in Femme (2023)
˚₊‧꒰ა 🎄🎅🏼 ❄️ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ -> SHE'S NOTICED HIM BEFORE .. lingering at the end of the corridor during the day. this was probably the third time he's visited without actually .. introducing himself to her. ellie's room ( room 11 ) sat right at the end of the hallway. the nurses always said it was the best room in the ward , because it was closest to the cafeteria. but ellie knew she had that room because the nurses station could see straight in. they never spoke around her - but she knew it had to do with the fact that she was on .. watch. at least .. that's what house told her. blue eyes spotted him again. this time it wasn't at the end of her hallway - but instead in the common room. her tiny legs picked her up from the ground and moved without her even acknowledging it. she was at least a head shorter than him ( that would never change ) - he also looked a little older. thirteen perhaps. ❝ you're always staring. ❞ was the first thing she said to him. very smooth for a ten year old with an accent so thick even the adults couldn't understand her sometimes.
˚₊‧꒰ა 🎄🎅🏼 ❄️ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ -> @iahnus ☃️ starter ❝ a young chris and ellie !!! ❞
That they moved her to a different room vexes him more than he can attempt to explain, neither to himself nor to anyone else. It’s hard to get past the nurses’ attentive eyes, though even nurses go on a break and not all of them put quite as much effort into just one patient’s room. Her accent sounds funny, he thinks. Not bad, just funny. “ Sometimes my eyes blink, ” Christopher deadpans. There’s not much intonation to his voice at all : Bill says to make an effort, but he hardly finds any conversations enjoyable enough to care. “ Why do they keep you here? ”
DECEMBER 25, 2009: PM 11:51
There are countless times that he climbs through her window at night, but most of them she either sleeps or pretends to. Maybe it’s a legitimate decision –– and yet she’s never been able to keep any secret from him. This time, she opened the window for him on purpose, and he’s grateful for it : hands attempt to get the snow out of his hair without messing up the carpet under his feet. The snow that remains between his blonde strands takes awfully long to thaw. “ Did you open it? ” Between all the presents her parents put under the tree, he snuck in one from himself. Was an awful amount of effort to do so without getting noticed, but the more giddy he is now to see her reaction. That the small, portable CD player he got her is baby blue was almost too corny for him to have picked it up from a vendor in Bristol, but it had a disc inside –– Something for Kate, Desert Lights, with some illegible scribbling on it that he almost assumes might be a signature. Even if it isn't, he thought @bak3rs might like it.
the concept of only having blogs for theo wells (ellies husband) and christopher robin (ellies stalker) and being tempted to revive peter bishop (kats twin)... i exist for @bak3rs
