#doomedlovers

[starcoffee99]

Sephiroth Headcanons ! 🌸

(NO TWS, I believe. If anything here should be tagged for trigger let me know🌸)

     Sephiroth would have some nickname for you. Before Nibelheim, it would be something sweet and cute. Let’s say you have a quality that would incline him to call you ‘puppy.’ Maybe when you two met, you were hyper and excited to meet him and he found it amusing. Before Nibeheim, it would be sweet, soft, and affectionate. Most likely teasing or playful, too. 

“Look at you, getting all cheerful just because I complimented your improvements. Just like a puppy.”

He would most likely only use it in private with you, or a whisper when the others’ backs were turned. But post-Nibelheim Sephiroth would use it exclusively as a mocking insult, with dark affection behind it. Imagine you, standing against him (maybe protecting Cloud or even Aerith, depending on if you see yourself apart of that group) and right after absolutely humbling you with Masamune, he becomes silent when you’re on the ground. You, out of curiosity, look up to him, just to see him looking down at you with twisted softness and a slight smirk.

“So eager for reprimand, hm?” He leans down, forearm resting on his knee comfortably as his silvery silky hair falls over his shoulders. He smells just as you remember him, something like the way steel and blood taste along with something startlingly close to cologne. “Just the way I remember. A rebellious little puppy. Powerless yet defiant.”

After that, he stands so smoothly it takes a moment for you to realize he moved at all. And he walks away, knowing Cloud/Zack/Aerith/Tifa will rescue you from here. But the fact he remembered that silly little nickname? It sends a tremor down your spine. Whether or not it’s pleasurable is up to you.

    Sephiroth, without a doubt in my silly head canon obsessed mind, is a gentleman. Or at least before Nibelheim he was. But certainly, before, when you were his partner/underling (doesn’t matter as long as you are fem!User) you got the knight treatment a lot.

You, along with Cloud and Sephiroth and a few other grunts, sat around the campfire. Just a small rest day. Yet, it was cold. You shivered but didn’t complain. It was that moment you realized… where did Sephiroth disappear to? Just then, you feel something warm around your shoulders. You look back in surprise, and none other than Sephiroth is laying a blanket around you.

“No need to freeze to death when we have a job to do.” His words sound cold, but his voice is velvety and his face expression shows caring tease. You smile and nod, wrapping it around yourself. But somehow, it hurts you. You know that just about everyone has some sort of crush on the great Sephiroth. And you hate knowing you have one that may never be reciprocated. But still, it is these small bits of affection that keep you going.

Post-Nibelheim Sephiroth? Still gentlemanly, but in a darker way.

Okay, okay— I know I’m reaching far here. But imagine, you go to a ball with the FF7 group. They all are doing their own thing, dancing and having fun or brooding in the corner.

But you? You don’t want to dance. You feel anxious. You leave into the silent upstairs balcony. Maybe you’re not even supposed to be there.

As you catch your breath and lean over the railing, looking down at the gardens, you feel a presence. A presence that makes you feel uneasy. A presence you recognized immediately.

Sephiroth.

You freeze. Can you even turn around? Is it really him? Has your imagination and fantasies gotten so bad you hallucinate him?

But you turn around anyway. Right there, hardly a foot away, is him.

His head is tilted like a curious cat, staring right at you, before his mako-green eyes scan over the rest of you approvingly before snapping back up to your eyes.

“I wonder why you aren’t down there. Could it possibly be… you can’t bear the thought of dancing with anyone else, save for me?”

You have no idea how he ever found out about your crush, but his voice is like poisoned honey to your ears.

You scowl, leaning away from him as he steps closer. 

“Now, now.”  He says softly. “Don’t become so vicious. I thought you loved parties.”

‘Shut up!’ You wished you had the courage to yell in his ridiculously handsome face. ‘Why won’t you leave me alone!?’ You wanted to ask.

Before you can respond, he gently but firmly takes your waist and your hand.

He sweeps you away from the railing, beginning to lead your favorite dance. The Violet Jewel, it was called. You saw it performed at a ball by a woman in violet jewels, some sort of noble. You remember telling him it was romantic. It was sensual, intimate.

And now, just as you once wished before it all went wrong, he was dancing it with you.

You begin to follow along. You can’t help but be drawn to him, like a bee to a poisonous flower. For him, his attraction to you is like a weed to a lovely flower.

You are swept into the magic of the dance, even bringing your inner thigh to his outer hip just the way it goes in the dance.

He smiles, and for a moment the world is narrowed to only you and him. Nibelheim is forgotten. Fire becomes a faraway thing, harmless to your love for him instead of being what was supposed to burn it away. All that exists are the sweet moments you had with him, suddenly you are just two lovers dancing at a ball, secluded and illuminated by moonlight.

The dance, after beautiful eternity, draws to its end, and he indulges you, holding the small of your back and dipping you.

Forgetting everything negative about Sephiroth, you indulge him, too. You allow your eyes to shut softly as you are dipped, lifting one leg up as if pointing your toes to the sky, exposing your neck and leaving you vulnerable as you catch your breath and loll back before he slowly, gently brings you up.

You melt in his touch, looking up at him with eyes full of fulfilled desire and love so potent he will never forget it; he will only crave it from you from here on out.

But the illusion shatters when you notice the blood on his armor. Even on the very gracious benefit of the doubt that the graceful and elegant Sephiroth managed to have wine spilled on him, or even more graciously guessing he may have helped someone in need…

You know that’s a willing ignorance.

You push yourself away, shaking your head. “No.. this is all wrong…” you say quietly, withdrawing.

Sephiroth is startled by the disappearance of your humanly warmth, and his hands lift as though trying to will you back.

You make the mistake of looking up at him… seeing the almost human desire for love and contact in his eyes. The way his beautiful face looks so sorrowful, the way his lips part and brows raise ever so slightly…

You turn away, walking for just a moment before sprinting away, unable to hold back the tears. Tears for what could have been, tears for the evil regret you have of not joining him, tears for wishing he never found out about his origins.

Tears for the fact your love was never enough to save him.

[rochelnecrochel]

Starfury Conventions on Twitter

“Sadly I have had it confirmed that Hugh won't be available to join us next month. Film has been brought forward on Homelane, so for family reasons he has to stay in New York. Mads and Richard are both still 100% confirmed, and additional guests will he added to this event.”

So... wasn’t just a rumor, after all...

[cherriesandmullberries]

Dearest Thao

AKA the feminised name of my saviour

Three of my pens have dried in trying to write your name. the chorus tells me to put my pen away. to close this letter and turn back to the life infront of me.

but i can't let go of the life we could have had.

I find the tiniest glimmers of you in the golden hours. i see what we had in my students. i tell them about us. they see themselves in ways we never could have.

In the late hours of the darkest nights your words haunt me. "I wonder how much of the last 8 months were real". I wonder how much that side of me was real. am i even that? did i feign it for you?

did you make me it?

How long will i keep the green light on my dock, when you have crossed international waters?

i burnt my green flame on someone near you just to try and see if i could warm you.

there is so much i could say but so little would find you.

I wonder if you cant still see my face, bleeding, through the ones and zeroes.

-- Daisy, from the dock.

[nathaliemdavid]

Very happy that I got to see one of my favorites before leaving Dublin! 😍 (the painting is only shown two hours per week, to protect it cause it's a watercolor) -- "Hellelil and Hildebrand, the Meeting on the Turret Stairs" (1864), by Frederic William Burton -- "The subject is taken from a medieval Danish ballad translated by Burton’s friend Whitley Stokes in 1855, which tells the story of Hellelil, who fell in love with her personal guard Hildebrand, Prince of Engelland. Her father disapproved of the relationship and ordered her seven brothers to kill the young prince. Burton chose to imagine a romantic moment from the story before the terrible end: the final meeting of the two lovers." . . . #doomedlovers #romanticart #danish #folklore #burton #artgallery #dublin #ireland #visitireland #globetrotter #artlover #solotraveler #freelancelife #backpacker #travelbug #wanderer #worldtravel (à National Gallery of Ireland) https://www.instagram.com/p/BxnM0a2hzIM/?igshid=6u8om8v35biu

[ellenney-blog]

#starcrossed #rayandani #velcoro #bezzerides #laskyline #doomedlovers #truedectiveseason2

[viridianvanguard]

My first Creative Writing post

This is something that I wrote late last night before I went to bed. I had the idea the other night while trying to get to sleep, and just wanted to have something started. Before I knew it I'd written nearly two full pages of text. For your consideration, here is the tale of a vampire druid:

Hemora was the love of Elekses the Third, Baron of Duskvale. He often told her that he could not live without her, and would gladly die for her. One day, though, she came to him and told him that she was ill with a disease which had been passed down through her family. There was no cure, no alms or remedy that could stop it, and within half a year she would wither away. But she thought she had found a way, one that her forebears had never considered, though for good reason. Hemora asked Elekses again if he would die for her: he said yes without hesitation. Then she asked him if he would taste undeath with her, and he paused.

She explained her plan, to use a dark ritual to turn herself into a blood-drinker which would make her immune to the degrading effects of any illness and even save her from the ravages of time. But, as she did not age, Elekses still would…unless he joined her. The Baron paused, unsure for the first time in his love. But as he turned it over in his mind, he knew there was no other way she might live, and agreed to spend eternity with her, though he would never feel the sun’s warmth again. That night, the two of them descended deep into the catacombs of the Duskvale Keep, into places where the sun had never shone. Together, they performed the incantations which would enact their transformation, and finally they each tasted the others blood, and the night claimed them.

Elekses and Hemora became blood-drinkers, and rejoiced at their promises of eternity to each other. They were careful to not reveal their change to anyone, however, as they knew the templemen of Thron the sun-god would stop at nothing to destroy them. The only blood they drank was that of animals, which they killed in the private hunting grounds of Elekses’ family. They made certain to never stand directly in sunlight, citing a new theory from a scholar that it caused premature aging. And they performed all their religious duties at the Keep, which they explained as trying to appease Thron to give them a child. Amazingly, for a time it did work, and no one was the wiser. But nothing stays the same forever, and the change that came was greater than any could have expected.

It started with Hemora asking to kill her own deer one night. Elekses did not see any harm in Hemora trying a bit of sport, so he let her. And she did well, but almost too well, like she was almost talented in a strange way. The next thing was when the servant boy disappeared, and then it was discovered the lady-in-waiting had also vanished. Hemora told Elekses they had eloped, which surprised him since he knew the servant boy had fancied a barmaid in town. What finally made him truly suspicious though was when he caught his wife sneaking out of the dungeon one night. He asked her what she had been doing down there, especially without one of the guards. She said she didn’t need a guard to protect her, even though she was the one to suggest they keep up the appearance of her frailty.

And then he smelled it, the smell of blood coming off of her. And he realized it wasn’t the smell of deer blood, or wild hog, or even the rare mountain lion they had managed to subdue. No, it was the smell of human blood, and more horrifying was that it was not just one scent. He pushed past her while she began pleading with him not to descend the stairs, only come back up with her and she would explain. But he moved swiftly, and before her words could turn him back he came upon the grisly scene. The half-dozen prisoners, the guards, and even one of the cleaning servants were all dead with vicious bite marks on their necks.

Elekses turned to his love, and found her face had changed to an almost coy but surely disturbing look. She told him yes, she had killed them, and she had taken her fill of their blood, which had given her such pleasure. The power she felt run through her, the strength of the shadows made her feel invincible, and she told him she knew they could drink their fill as much as they wanted. With their strength, speed, and guile, no one could stop them. The Baron of Duskvale was frightened as he never had been before, but what scared him the most was that the one speaking of this savage conquest was the woman he’d pledged to spend all of eternity with. He knew then that she had become corrupted and had to be stopped. So, he tried…but he could not. With all the human blood she had consumed she had become far stronger than him, and after his betrayal flew into a rage. She sped up into the Keep, and within seconds Elekses could hear the screams. He chased after Hemora, but every time was too late: another body, drained of its blood with no mercy or empathy.

Finally, he found her in the entry hall, and saw the ruby red dripping down her chin. She called him weak, a pathetic excuse for a nightwalker, one who could not see the true power that lay in the blood. And then the shadows extended from her, and she brought forth awful spirits to attack him. Their claws of darkness ripped into his skin, and he fled his own home into the night. In pain of flesh and heart, he ran far into the forest, farther than he had ever gone before. Deep into the old woods he raced, until he finally came to a stop in a clearing. There he began to weep, for he knew his love could never return to him and her face was now worn by a monster.

Elekses resolved himself that he would stop her and destroy her, whatever it took. He had allowed this abominable event to come to pass, and so he would take the responsibility of atonement. But he knew that he could never outmatch her while he only drank the blood of animals, and he would never bring himself to drink the blood of another person. The easiest way he knew to destroy her would be with the power of Thron, but the sun-god would never grant him the chance and might simply smite him on the spot. He quickly sank into despair, seeing no way to fulfill his goal. But then, her heard a footstep, and turned to find a strange figure approach him.

A woman, dressed in a long cloak that seemed like it was woven out of grass. She walked without hesitation, without fear towards him. She asked him if his resolve was strong. Confused and suspicious, Elekses surprised himself by saying yes. The woman asked him if he would go through any hardship to atone, and the Baron again said yes. Then the woman asked if he would even face death to see his goal attained, and thinking back to the promise he’d made so long ago he said yes. She told him to wait with her through the sunrise to prove himself. He gawked at her at first, but then he quietly, almost unbelievably agreed, because he felt there must be more to this than there seemed.

Then the sky started to lighten, and before he knew it the sun was peaking over the trees and into the clearing. He felt its light begin to hit his skin and it burned like hellfire. His instincts told him to run into the shade of the woods but he knew he had to stay and see it through. The pain built higher and higher, until he knew he would surely combust and leave nothing but ashes behind. Then there was a loud rumbling sound and something huge burst its way out of the ground in front of him, blocking the sun and granting him reprieve. As he watched, astonished, he realized it was a tree that was reaching an enormous size within seconds, and finished off at least a hundred feet tall and with leaves that only let the dimmest of light through.

The woman in the grass-dress stood in front of him, and revealed herself to be Reah, the goddess of nature. She had tested Elekses and found him worthy. So, she gave him a chance to redeem himself. If he served her as a guardian of the woodlands, she would grant him the title of druid and he would fall under her fold where Thron and his followers could not touch him. He would perform whatever duties she required of him and he would only kill those animals he needed to survive. In return, he would grow in power with the green energies of nature: this would allow him to eventually face his fallen love and even one day throw off the curse of the blood-drinker. Elekses bowed his head and accepted readily, eager to make things right. Reah then gave him a staff of living oak and a cloak of thick leaves to shield him from the sun, and sent him forth to live in the forests until she called him.