#i feel like in may i got such a beautiful taste of freedom and then i've been slammed back into being with my family | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arijackz · 2 months

Text

PICK A CARD: What Era Is Your Beauty From?

☯︎ “A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” ― Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Disclaimer: This is a general reading, take what resonates. I am not suggesting any of these descriptions are cannon to your ancestral history, these are just how my intuition perceived, and then presented your beauty’s energy.

p1 → p2 ↙︎ p3 → p4

🂽 Pile One 🂽 (the devil, 2oC rev., ace of cups rev., 4oW, 3oC, king of swords, the tower, the world)

❖ Pile one, I feel like I’m watching the Game of Thrones out of context. Just flashes of people from around the Medieval 1400s living their day-to-day; singing, dancing, eating together, and then… not.

❖ The imagery I got when I asked what era your beauty came from, was very longing in nature. There was a lot of joy and celebration but it felt like I was watching the film through teary eyes and a heavy heart.

❖ The “movie” flashed between a thriving culture sharing tales of triumph and having happy, drunk sing-song moments together; and then those same people under a war-torn regime of a very cruel but powerful man. I sense themes of religious persecution, nationwide government-forced famine, and general desecration of the once-peaceful way of life. The population was going through collective mourning.

❖ People lamented over their unfulfillable desire to reconnect with their homeland and all of their loved ones. With the World card at the end of the spread and the Empress at the bottom of the deck, I get the clear image that your beauty is the physical embodiment of a large collective’s longing for the sanctity of their community. You invoke that feeling people get when they remember a bitter-sweet memory that hums fervor in their chest and gives them the fire they need to push forward.

❖ Your beauty comes from an era where the genuine smile and cheer of a pretty girl sparked a nation’s hope for reformation. You are the last remaining connection to long-lost celebration and the heart of a forgotten city.

How Do You Paint The Divine Image of Hope?

🂽 Pile Two 🂽 (7oC rev., 4oP rev., full moon, leo, sacral chakra)

❖ WHOOOAAaaaaa Ammberrr is the collluuhhhhh of ya enneergyyy!! WHOoaaA, shades of gaawwllddd displayyy naturraalllyyyyyy…..

❖ Just know I was HOLLERING that. This is my hippie pile. My people. Yea that’s right, I’m talking the late 1960s - early 1970s.

❖ Your beauty arose at a time when society desperately needed color (specifically seeing some of you wearing a lot of bright colors or eye-catching jewelry or hairstyles). The world was bleak and the war’s aftermath on the overall mental and emotional welfare of the general public pushed people to radical ideals and birthed a revolution centered around liberation, pleasure, and community.

❖ Your beauty is all sunshine and rainbows. Psychedelics and organic food. The best music in human history (feel free to argue with me, but know that it is going straight out the other ear, mama) and week-long outdoor festivals full of peace, love, and vulnerability with total strangers.

❖ Your beauty brushes people with the chilling winds of shameless pleasure. The taste of unadulterated personal freedom that is almost a societal taboo. Your beauty is so purely liberating.

❖ Lmao, I imagine a guitar riff going off everytime you walk into a room.

❖ You are the physical embodiment of eccentric love and vivacious rebellion.

Play That Funky Music

🂽 Pile Three 🂽 (The lovers rev., the High Priestess rev., Ace of Swords., 4oC. 7)

❖ Revolution is a running theme for all of the piles. This collective’s beauty awakens people.

❖ I’m seeing a brilliant man going mad at the lack of creative intelligence around him and pushing for societal rebirth. A complete cultural shift from the Dark Ages (pile one), to modernity. This is my Renaissance pile.

❖ You embody the mystical fusion of art, religion, architecture, and science. You are all the world’s intrinsic beauty rolled up into one figure. You are the art that attracts painters, inventors, and philosophers alike.

❖ You have the beauty of an all-around muse. You invoke the spirit of creative passion. It is like people see you and get a stroke of inspiration. Something that kicks them in the ass and tells them to go outside and create.

❖ This pile is very romantic. A classical beauty, like red roses and bottle poems. The universal innate desire to dream big.

❖ Shoutout to my Aquarians, 11th housers, and Shatabhisha natives.

The Medieval-Modern Muse

🂽 Pile Four 🂽 (king of pentacles, 2oP, 5oP rev., 9oP)

❖ OKAY PLOTWIST?? I don’t know what era this pile’s beauty is from because it’s set in the future.

❖ It’s funny how the last piles were all set in periods of revolution (putting in the WORK) and your pile, the final pile, is set in a better world full of financial stability, the end of inequality, economic fairness, and universal abundance (the fruits of the labor).

❖ Dude, I was trying to read the message at first and was just scratching my head. I was like, “When has anywhere, literally ever been this good???” Then I saw the ace of wands reversed at the bottom of the deck and saw impending change and it clicked.

❖ I also saw some star semblance, and see that your beauty is a reminder to mankind that the “impossible” is already set in motion. The hell we have created will crumble.

❖ You are a physical embodiment of society’s future triumph. You radiate wealth and fairness. My Venusians, especially Libra. You also look regal, something about you makes people want to stand taller.

❖ You got the pride card, I see that you give people the feeling of victory. You are living proof of future triumph in a better world where greed and sorrow are eradicated.

❖ You are the harbinger of the next era.

Introducing The First Titanium Man On The Moon!

#pac #pick a card #tarot #tarot reading #arijackz #astrology observations #pick a pile #beauty #eras

943 notes · View notes

ghostlspirit · 1 year

Text

The Fool's game

Genshin men headcanons on their love

tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, dark themes, suggestive content (kinda nsfw), maybe ooc

note: I woke up and just had to write this lol. This is just a quick drabble and the list might not be complete. Hope you enjoy nonetheless!

Masterlist

The bruise

Tears stain your face even though you already stopped crying long ago. Scars little your skin and they feel like open wounds. You remember every day you got them, from him. He promised that you are safe, and you fell for it. His sadistic smile burns in your nightmare as he rises the blade to your skin. Another scar for his collection. May it be his initial that he carves or just random patterns, he loves your whimper, your begging and your crying face as you fully submit to his mercy. He thinks you look eternal like that, you make him feel so giddy. He makes it clear that you are his, your body is his. You know by now that the only way to experience the sweet smell of freedom is determined by him, through his blade, and only when he desires to cut too deep. But until then you'll have to live in a constant state of bruised legs, hips and neck as the pain and his 'love' overwhelmes you.

Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Ayato, Kaeya, Wanderer/Scara

The kiss

He can't keep his hands off you. He wants to explore every nook and cranny of your body, with his eyes, hand and lips. You taste marvellous and your moans are addictive, your shivers driving him over the edge. He has reached places you never knew existed as he holds you, hands moving, rubbing and lightly squeezing you. He's never too rough, always treating you like a piece of glass as he worships your body. You gave him a taste, let him indulge, and now he's hooked. He never leaves your side, he NEEDS to be around you, touch you. Without the warmth you radiate, his worlds seems so cold. But don't worry, you won't leave him. He makes sure you'll always be back in his arms, at the mercy of his kiss.

Kaeya, Childe, Zhongli, Itto, Alhaitham, Cyno, Albedo, Diluc

The affection

You don't have a choice to love anyone but him. He served his heart on a silver plate and you accepted it. You were a fool to be swept up by his sweet words and charming smile as now it's the only thing you whish to never see again. He would do anything for you, everything you desire. Isn't that so romantic? He tells you he loves you 24/7 and that you're so pretty and beautiful. He can't help himself as he remembers the days you would still blush at his words. He knows you still feel the same deep deep down. You said you loved him forever, didn't you? He knows you never stopped loving him, just as he will never stop loving you. If he keeps smothering you with his affection, surely you'll finally come around?

Thoma, Kaveh, Diluc, Xiao, Itto, Cyno, Tighnari

577 notes · View notes

theship-thewalrus · 2 years

Note

Hi! I just saw you're taking requests for LOTR and The Hobbit, and was wondering if maybe you could write something Legolas x Reader.

I was just watching the Battle of the five armies, and got an idea. What if, when Thranduil sends Legolas to the north to find Strider, he ends up meeting the reader (who is also a Dúnedain) and she's the one who helps him find Aragorn, becuse she's his friend?

Sorry if that was way too specific.

Thank you so much!

legolas greenleaf x female! reader

pretty much the ask :)

word count: 903 words reading time: about 5 minutes warnings: none really

Travelling alone can provide many advantages like added freedom, quietness, independence. But it also held various disadvantages like loneliness, solitude, stress. But it was a life you choose, one you deserve. But sometime you had a companion, someone to share a few stories with on the road. Strider was what he called himself. He was a man you ran into a few times on the road, a man you would call your friend.

Never would you thought someone, let alone an elf, would come out looking for him. The man thought he was tracking Strider, thinking he would find him in a few days and return home before the season was done. Yet it was you who he found at the end of the trail, a figure wrapped up in a cloak camping by the river. After days of riding, you had finally stopped for a rest allowing him to catch up. Now he had seen you he could taste home once more.

Despite Legolas thinking you had not noticed him you had, you had known you had someone following you for sometime. One could call it a gut feeling, or simply the world telling you to keep an eye out. Tending to the fire you watch your horse turn to look in the forest behind you, seemingly knowing someone else was there. Signalling to you your stalker had arrived and caught up to you. You gave off no indication you knew he was there, to lure him into thinking he had the upper hand. It was unsure if this unknown man had good or bad intentions, though you were positive you would find out.

"Come forward," Your voice rings out amongst the silence, a large surprise to Legolas thinking he had been successful at being hidden. But as you call out to him seemingly unfazed by knowing he was here, it was clear to him you have known for sometime. Stays put for a few more moments, yet it seemed it only annoys you. "I said, come forward. Less you plan to stay there for the rest of the night." At your more biting tone, he took a few steps forward. Almost shamefully walking up to you as a small child would after doing something wrong.

"How long have you known?" This is the first question he asks wanting to see how long you have known. Chuckling slightly you continue to poke the fire, ensuring the coals are still hot. "For some time now. I have a feeling I've had someone watching me." Finally, you turn to look at him, a cocky grin on your face. It seemed this encounter was full of surprises as the last thing he expected to see was a woman.

But not any woman, a beautiful one.

Taking in the unknown elf's appearance you could not help but believe he was attractive. Nodding your head towards the fire you speak "Take a seat, you travelled this far." Cautiously Legolas approached you, as though he was waiting for you to pull out a weapon and strike him. But you did no such thing, just offering him a seat by a fire.

"Thank you," he mutters taking a seat across from you, your eyes drift from him and back to the fire. The both of you simply sitting in uneasy silence, not knowing what the other one thinks. Legolas feared you may attack him, whereas you simply wonder what his reason was for following you. Not being one to like having questions you simply ask, "Why were you following me? Surely I can't be that important to have an elf trailing me."

Legolas appeared to be taken back by your forwardness, not expecting you to outright ask him questions. The pair of you did not even knew each other's names and yet here you were asking him questions as though you were acquainted. It took him a moment to answer, thinking if he should lie or simply tell the truth. But he decided there would be no harm in it, from what he could tell you travelled alone. "I am looking for a man that is called Strider. His help is needed to save the realm."

There is silence for a moment before you begin to laugh loudly, finding his words amusing. 'Save the Realm', the loner and almost standoffish man could not possibly help save the realm. Legolas was shocked at your laughter, thinking such a thing would desire a bit more seriousness. "You must be mistaken, I have met this Strider. I doubt he would be involved in saving the realm. Besides what you are even saving the realm from?"

"I can't tell you that," was his response one that made you raise an eyebrow. Thinking for a moment you hummed looking Legolas in the eyes as you spoke "What if I helped you find him?" He perked up at this, you knew where to find him? Many questions appeared in his mind, along with many warnings about you, but none he listened to. For with your help he could return home by the end of the season with this Strider in tow. "Truly?" His voice was unsure, waiting for you to laugh once more and tell him not to be stupid. "Truly, we'll leave at dawn," you grin, looking back to the fire.

Thus, it was the start of your adventure together.

#legolas x reader #legolas greenleaf x reader #legolas imagines #lotr imagines #lotr x reader #lord of the rings imagines #lord of the rings x reader

337 notes · View notes

grapecaseschoices · 1 year

Photo

OCs AS POISONOUS PLANTS

I was tagged by the ever talented @dakotawritesif

rules: create a look-book for one (or more) of your ocs using this meiker and then take this uquiz and share their results

tagging: @paptalk @kdelarenta @trebondialanna @aylaaescar @mt07131@quaxorascal @quinnorion @likesomethingblooming @moderarato @solarisrenbeth @umbertors @anotherbeingsworld @roxaro @amlovelies @tuomniia @tangerineloves @dwead-piwate-meggers @mistyeyedbi @thee-morrigan @plasticdodecagon @horchatabun @thelittlestspider @yes-prisoner @karolinarodrigueswrites @coldshrugs @straightuppotato-art @agentnatesewell (no pressure ofc!) and anyone else interested!!

(top left) Alana Carita (she/her), lead singer of Promised Promises for @/infamous-if

Lily Of The Valley

This is the poison of giving too much. You feel yourself emptying out, dizzying, discoloring-- until you fear you will fade entirely and wither away. You have always had to give. You never had a choice before. They pluck your flowers for their beauty, they trample your leaves carelessly, they pull out your roots by the fistful and berate you for daring to grow. And now that you have a grove to spread out in, your rhizomes tangle and curl in on themselves. When cruelty is all you've ever known, thriving seems impossible. But the answer is not to make yourself small and offer every lovely thing you are to the world in the hopes it will have mercy on you. The answer is to let yourself dare to thrive for thriving's sake, to grow in the wild ways you wish to-- and to do that for yourself for once.

(top right) Hiyam Vinke (she/her), lead singer of the Vespas for @/infamous-if

Doll's Eyes (hmmm -- she got oleander too, a mix would be best.)

This is the poison of unchecked vices. You slip into hallucinations. You are wracked with convulsions. The delirium threatens to overwhelm you. What are you running from? You look in every direction, wild-eyed at every turn, seeking some reprieve from what torments you. Each vice brings new consequences, and the price of escape seems too great, and yet you cannot seem to face things head on. If you aren't running from yourself, I hope you find a true way to freedom soon. And if you are running from yourself, perhaps you would do well to realize your pain is not something you can simply escape by avoidance. You deserve healing just as much as the ones you love. Someday, soon I hope, you will know this and feel it and reach inward to grant yourself all the kindnesses you offer others. That is the only true way to peace for ones like us. Oh, and if the pain of it seems too great? I hope that you realize you don't have to do it alone.

(bottom left) Emile Ryan (they/them), one of my Keepers from @/keeperofthesunandmoon

Belladonna

This is the poison of falling in love. You taste it and your heart beats fast. Your eyes dilate, you fall into deep delirium. You may be a bit dramatic and impulsive, and it gets you into trouble sometimes, but you just can't help yourself. It's in your blood. You love because it is the truest beauty you've found in this harsh world. Even when it's hurt you before, when it's poisoned you, you still find a way. They may call you naive for still believing in it, or vain for making yourself and your surroundings so meticulously lovely. But to love like this is brave and noble, and I hope you find the beauty you seek. Chances are, it's within and all around you already, if you know where to look.

(bottom right) Kendis Crawford-Louel (she/they), in way too many IFs.

Hemlock (hmmmmmmm ... they also got oleander the first time)

This is the poison of intense fear. Your body trembles, your flesh burns. Your limbs won't respond to you. You convulse. You can't seem to control the fear. It seems that it has always lived within you. You hesitate, you agonize, and that breeds regret. Sometimes it threatens to overwhelm you, and that frightens you more than anything. But panic is survival mode in overdrive, and something within you knows you must live. Creation seems to be the only balm for you. Perhaps you survive so stubbornly because you have stories that must be told, songs that must be sung. Soothe your stage fright. The path from surviving to thriving is having a good garden to grow in. And you can't do that completely alone.

38 notes · View notes

rainydaycafe · 1 year

Text

A Shaken Espresso, Please - Ch. 2

Pairing: Professor! Stephen Strange au x OC fem! graduate school student (and barista)!

Summary: Professor Strange has a reputation that proceeds him and a finicky taste for off-campus coffee. Enter a graduate school attending barista. This is their story.

Warnings: age difference (older Stephen), and an inhumane amount of fluff with tumultuous thoughts

A/N: feel more than free to send me prompts for this story regarding what you'd like to see, what you think would fit, and any thought u have up in that sexy mind of yours!

Chapter 1

Time seemed to bend in differently for both Stephen and Emilia.

Their perception of time differed as the morning of their lunch date time seemed to extend itself to an excruciating length even when Stephen did his best to distract himself with work and emails. Time seemed to pass by as quick as a gust of wind when Emilia woke up that morning feeling jitters, unable to formulate an outfit that was good enough.

However they perceived it, time still passed and as was her habit- Emilia was early to the restaurant.

It turns out Stephen is even earlier than her, waiting outside on a nearby wall looking as handsome as ever. It’s the first time Emilia’s ever seen him wearing black jeans which he’s paired with a dark blue cardigan overtop a casual gray button up.

Looking so well put together with his straight posture and confident aura, it’s unimaginable to think of this man having been the one in his apartment checking and rechecking everything about his appearance multiple times before finally leaving his place.

Only to check himself in every available window and mirror, but that’s besides the point because he knows he looks good.

Emilia glances down at her own outfit which took her longer than she’d admit to pick. The entire idea of picking this outfit almost sent her into a fit of inescapable nerves.

It took her a lifetime to pick a pair of dark blue jeans that clung to her thighs and ended at just the beginning of her shoes, and the beige cardigan with orange flowers with a cream tank top.

The jeans may make her ass look fantastic, but that’s not the reason she chose them. Really. That would be presumptuous of her.

While Emilia doesn't have the financial freedom Stephen has to spend on clothes, she knows she did well choosing her outfit when Stephen catches sight of her and bites back a smile by biting his lower lip.

“Emilia,” Stephen says, pushing away from the wall and walking towards her.

Emilia doesn’t know whether they’re supposed to hug, wave, or shake hands but Stephen makes the decision for her as he leans in quickly and presses a kiss on her cheek. The breath she had catches in her throat and she flushes a bit, looking just about anywhere other than the man before her.

“Hi. You look really nice,” Which isn’t an empty compliment because Stephen does look nice.

“Thank you. This is my favorite cardigan,” Stephen says as they begin walking towards the door, Emilia pulling open the door for them, “You look beautiful. Those pants are-” Stephen swallows and Emilia watches in genuine surprise as he flushes a bit, “They look nice on you,”

“Thanks,” Emilia says as she wrings her hands together because he noticed!

“I already got us a table so I hope it’s okay we eat upstairs on the roof?”

Emilia spends plenty of time indoors. Work, school, home, etc. So she’s plenty happy to be outside. It’s a lovely day to spend outside since it’s just warm enough to avoid being too cold, but it isn’t hot. The breeze is cooling but not strong enough to blow away their napkins which is nice to have when Emilia feels she needs to cool down when Stephen looks at her.

In all honesty, Emilia can’t remember the last time she went on a date. The previous dates having been a daunting experience with men that really weren’t her cup of tea but they managed to get her to agree when she was fumbling with how to say “no”.

This, however?

This is easy.

It’s easy to simply sit across from Stephen on a sunny afternoon on the roof of his lovely restaurant. Their knees aren’t knocking, but every so often their feet bump into one another and every time Emilia feels her breath stutter. But either way she leans her chin on the heel of her hand and gazes at Stephen, making him feel as though everything he says will stick to Emilia and will never be forgotten.

Stephen makes it easy with his gift for conversation and his infectious smile. Emilia is very content to just listen as Stephen speaks about his job, where he went to school, what he studied. Everything is nonchalant- all that he’s done and all he still wants to do. There is pride as he speaks, but there isn’t any of the usual arrogance Emilia knows he carries at times. Stephen talks about himself as though he’s just any other person but Emilia thinks Stephen might be the most interesting person she’s ever encountered.

And Stephen draws out bits and pieces of Emilia’s own private story, unhappy with the way Emilia shrugs away her own life as though there’s nothing to actually speak of. The wide eyed wonder Stephen shows when Emilia speaks of her life, her education, and herself is enough to keep her speaking as she fidgets every so often when the attention makes her shy. Emilia continues to speak even when she knows she’s told Stephen more than she’s ever told anyone.

They’re both quite certain that they could speak to one another well past lunch, into dinner, and well into the late hours of night and into the early hours of the morning. For as long as the other might want to stay without even an inkling of boredom between them.

There is a quiet hope simmering there that hopefully the other will also want that.

A bit of doubt is bouncing around the back of her head and she can’t completely relax unless she’s clarified it.

“Is it- is it okay for us to be here together?” Emilia asks, nervously folding and refolding her napkin, Stephen pausing mid chew in confusion, “I mean since you’re a professor and I am a student,”

“You don’t need to worry about that. I looked through the faculty handbook the day you came into my office,” Stephen answers as though he’s telling her his favorite color with genuine ease.

It might not mean much to him, but it caused Emilia to pause to take what he had said.

Had he been interested in getting to know her and have her sit across from him from the moment she stepped foot in his office?

Stephen noted the surprise but he just smiled in the way that was now becoming familiar to Emilia, and she couldn’t help but just smile back.

“What are you teaching this semester? How are you liking them?” Emilia asked and Stephen contemplated.

“I’m teaching Navigational and Spatial Orientation, Ethical Conduct of Research, Neuroscience of Mental Illnesses, Sleep and Sleep Disorders, Neurobiology of Social Intelligence, and Neurobiology of Learning and Memory,”

The impressed expression on Emilia’s face was enough to have Stephen feeling superior and like he was an impressive individual since the courses he taught were a glimpse into his vast intelligence

“I mostly enjoy them but there are pros and cons to any profession,” Stephen added..

“What are the pros and cons of yours?”

“It’s just a bit difficult in a frustrating sense when we have to backtrack multiple times to a topic or a particular section because some students are have a harder time understanding,” Stephen explained, catching Emilia off guard, “I never had a problem understanding things in school so I don’t have a lot of patience for the redundancy of the slow students. Especially the Learning and Memory since it’s more of an introductory course we get a lot of students who aren’t sure of what they’re really in for with neuro, much less achieving a level of education like my own. They follow my courses since I’m obviously the head of the department I am the best,”

Emilia had been the student who needed the extra help when it came to her science and math classes since it just didn’t click for her right away, often leaving her confused and with a headache.

Read a book in a day? Easy. Memorize a few dates for history class? Fine. But when it comes to the world of math and science Emilia always felt out of her depth and it had always been due to feeling stupid when she did reach out for help with teachers and professors who shared the slightest bit of Stephen’s attitude.

If Stephen thought his own students were “slow” students who had made it into the highly competitive science department were “slow” she didn’t want to imagine what he thought of her.

Stephen’s arrogance had always been something women enjoyed, finding it impressive how confident he was in his skills; but it seemed to be having the opposite effect on Emilia as she seemed to be shutting down right in front of her.

That arrogance had been a part of his personality for as long as he’s known he’s gifted and it’s what people notice immediately after meeting him.

“I’m sorry if I came off as a pretentious asshole” Stephen said suddenly over the silence that had stretched out due to what he knew was his fault, “I’m not some huge asshole who just goes around belittling students. I am good at what I do but I don’t want you to think that’s all I am. I just- I just wanted to impress you but it seems to be having the opposite effect on you,”

Emilia visibly relaxed and she listened to him ramble until he came to his own natural end.

“Stephen, I’m not here with you because you’re head of the science department or because you have all of this professional success,” Emilia confessed, “I’m here to be with the Stephen that goes into the coffee shop and is pleasant to be around and converse with,”

“I really sounded like an asshole, didn’t?” Stephen asked with a self deprecating chuckle.

“Not… not really. I’m not saying you shouldn’t be confident and proud of yourself but like I said; I like you for who you are when you’re relaxed and are yourself, I don’t need you to prove to me you’re intelligent,” Emilia explained because anyone who came across Stephen could understand that he was an intelligent person.

When around Emilia, Stephen realizes he hasn’t been the belittling asshole with a superiority complex at all since all he wanted was to know her, to have her, and his genuine self has been more than enough to win her over.

Arrogance is just a mask for the feeling of having to prove yourself

That was something Stephen had heard time and time again after his haughtiness had gotten under the skin of someone, and perhaps on some level they were right but apparently he hadn’t felt the need to prove anything with Emilia up until he became all too self aware and self conscious almost.

There was safety between them; it seemed Stephen could be his most genuine self. There was nothing to prove to her since he was enough, he didn’t need additional padding.

However Stephen did choose to push the thought of confessing exactly why he had become a professor when he was very much qualified for more demanding professions.

It was still a subject that was sore enough to have him avoid it, especially when Emilia was looking at him with genuine affection within her gaze and he just couldn’t deal with it switching over to pity and sympathy because of what could have been.

The only other slight hiccup is when the check comes and Emilia attempts to pay but Stephen quickly pulls the bill out of her reach.

“I asked you so I will pay. If you’re so eager to pay, you can ask me out next time,” Stephen says with a smile, nudging at her ankle with his foot.

Next time. Emilia thinks, and the helpless wonder and hope bubbles inside of her all that much more, hoping Stephen feels the same anticipation when it comes to the phrase “next time”.

________________

It turns out that the second location Stephen wanted them to go to was a farmer’s market a few streets down which was held every Saturday afternoon from 2:00pm-7:30pm.

Emilia figures out where they’re going about two blocks into their walk as she sees people walking around with tote bags full of fresh produce, baked goods, and whatever else they sell at the farmers market but she keeps quiet.

They’re busy chatting or, well, lightly debating about whether classical music is superior to jazz music but there’s not an ounce of heat behind either of their words.

Walking side by side, their hands brush every so often and Emilia wonders what it would be like to hold hands with Stephen. To have his larger hands encase her own, or to thread her own fingers through his but she doesn’t dwell on it too long because she doesn’t have the courage to reach out and grab his hand.

The curiosity surrounding holding hands isn’t one Emilia lives with for too long as they arrive at the impressive farmer’s market and Stephen asks where she’d like to start.

Stephen asks where she’d like to start, but Emilia tells him she doesn’t really mind so he directs them towards the hand made soap when he suddenly takes hold of her hand as though it were the most casual and normal thing.

There’s a jolt that goes through Emilia, and she’s tempted to look at their interlaced fingers but she doesn’t and instead relishes the warmth Stephen’s hands provides.

Perhaps there’s a part of her that is afraid of acknowledging it because Stephen will also acknowledge it and pull away, noticing that it’s meaning a bit too much to Emilia for his liking.

A glance is stolen when Stephen is busy debating the kind of honey he most wants, but Emilia quickly looks away from their hands and confesses to him she’s of no help because she doesn’t care for honey.

Their walk around the farmer’s market continues and Emilia finds herself comfortable and content, hoping there’s another day like this awaiting her, just without all of the first date nerves that consumed her beforehand.

Letting their gazes linger towards stalls that might interest one another, Emilia locks eyes with an ice cream vendor dishing out delicious looking ice cream.

“Ice cream,” Emilia says not without childlike wonder that makes Stephen smile, directing both of them there where he smiles wider as Emilia genuinely debates the flavors. It seems to be a serious contemplation as she weighs her options, going through a pros and cons list in a matter of seconds.

“What are you going to get?” Emilia asks when they’re finally in line after Emilia has made a decision on her flavor choices.

“Brownie chunk and pistachio. What did you settle on?”

“I’ve settled on butter pecan and vanilla caramel crunch,”

They both order, Stephen opting for a cone as Emilia goes for her ice cream to be in a cup, Emilia beating him to pay as she had her card ready to go the moment they got in line because she couldn’t let him pay for everything.

Stephen had been distracted looking at her side profile, but he admits defeat as they wait off to the side, not waiting too long before their order number is called.

“There’s a bench over there,” Stephen gestures, “It’s a bit further away so we can have a bit of privacy,”

Emilia nods and before long they’re sitting, chatting away about anything that’s under the sun which is a relief to Emilia who had been plagued with the fear of Stephen finding her boring.

The natural curiosity between them doesn’t cease, both of them wanting to know more and more about the other without feeling as though they’ve hit the mark for casual first date knowledge.

“This place is here every Saturday,” Stephen explains proudly, “I know it’s a bit busy and touristy but it has some really nice things as well- what? What’s that look on your face?”

“I live nearby, Stephen,” Emilia says, attempting not to laugh at the affronted expression that crosses Stephen’s face, “I live about 2 blocks away and I come here on the Saturdays I want to get out of my place for a bit,”

“Fuck,” Stephen swears, “This is so boring for you, isn’t it? I just can’t seem to pull anything off with you, can I?”

“It’s not boring,” Emilia says sincerely, glancing towards the people shopping away, “I’m not bored because I’m getting to know you,”

The smile that Stephen gives him is so genuine and delicate that Emilia swears something rearranges inside of her in that moment.

“You’re so sweet,” Stephen says, and suddenly when Emilia looks towards him from where she was looking at some kids playing with sticks Stephen is leaning in and kissing her firmly.

It’s warm and sweet, and so intimate it makes Emilia feel like she’s off kilter somehow even though she’s sitting down on a bench at the farmer’s market she frequented as often as she’s wanted to.

Emilia’s been kissed before, sure, but not like this.

Not like she’s something precious and wonderful, like she’s something meant to be cherished. She can feel the intimacy and the sincerity, the way Stephen isn’t trying to impress her in that moment.

It’s the ice cream he tastes like, the softness of his lips, and the hand he has pressed to the back of her neck.

“Are you guys kissing?” A voice asks a bit too close for comfort and Stephen feels Emilia pull away quickly as though she’s been burned, leaving him mentally cursing everything worth cursing in the universe.

Turning, he sees one of the little monsters- kids- who had been playing a ways away standing in front of them waiting for an answer.

“Why don’t you go back to playing with sticks before I give you a lobotomy?” Stephen asks in a fakely sweet voice, the child unsure of what to make of the comment turns and goes back to her friends.

Emilia, embarrassed at being caught and interrupted is blushing bright red covering her face with her hands but Stephen is quick to peel them away, bringing her close to his side with his arm over her shoulder.

“I can’t believe you threatened to give her a lobotomy,” Emilia chastised.

“Well you were busy hiding your face so I had to get her to go away,” Stephen defended.

Indignant, Emilia turns to look at Stephen who looks at her expectantly but instead of giving in she turns back around, still unsure of what’s okay and what isn’t.

Stephen answers her by cupping her face with both hands and pulling her into him, pressing his lips to hers again, stemming that warm feeling that builds up in her chest and seems to expand to anywhere Stephen is touching.

________________

A/N: Hope you enjoyed and I hope you want to read more from me

Taglist for people who asked for a second part (ily):

@diabaroxa @vi0letdaze

#Stephen strange #Doctor strange #Stephen strange fic #Doctor strange pic #doctor strange au #Stephen strange au #marvel fiction #doctor strange fan fiction #Stephen Vincent strange #doctor strange x oc #doctor strange fluff #Benedict Cumberbatch #doctor strange fix rec #Stephen strange fic rec #marvel #marvel fanfic

25 notes · View notes

bellabrooks1510 · 1 month

Text

Cold Princes

If you like:

❄️ Contemporary

❄️ Omegaverse

❄️ Why choose

❄️ Mafia

❄️ Enemies to lovers

❄️ Rivals

❄️ Age Gap

❄️ Forced Proximity

❄️ Beauty and the Beast vibes

❄️ Protective alphaholes

❄️ Secrets

❄️ Standalone

❄️Knotting, nesting, heat

Then Cold Princes might be for you. Get your copy here: https://books2read.com/Cold-Princes

Being the only child of an infamous mafia family is hard, especially when my father wanted a son but got a daughter. Add being an omega, and it’s worse. My day to day life is filled with thugs to protect me and violence I just can't escape. My father controls every aspect of my life, including who I can date.

Omegas like me are choice property and worth millions to the right buyer.

When I'm taken by Father's enemies, I fear my fate is sealed. If I don't give these men what they want, I could lose more than I already have. If I do, I could lose myself.

But maybe I don’t know who I am.

Now that I’ve had a taste of true freedom, I crave them even as I fight against their demands. My oncoming heat looms, reminding me that I desperately need an alpha. Or three. But Jarek and I hate each other, Rafael betrayed me, and Milo thinks I’m dead. Since those are the only three alphas I’ve ever been attracted to, I feel as if I’m out of luck.

Then Milo unexpectedly shows up, and I think I’m being rescued. But my captors make him an offer he may not refuse. Will he join them against my family?

I'm torn between my loyalty to my family and my attraction to these men. If I make the wrong decision, I could destroy everything.

#mpstarkweather #standalone #omegaverse #mafia #enemiestolovers #agegap #omega #knotting #availablenow

3 notes · View notes

aleriaya-reads · 1 month

Text

Cold Princes

If you like:

❄️ Contemporary

❄️ Omegaverse

❄️ Why choose

❄️ Mafia

❄️ Enemies to lovers

❄️ Rivals

❄️ Age Gap

❄️ Forced Proximity

❄️ Beauty and the Beast vibes

❄️ Protective alphaholes

❄️ Secrets

❄️ Standalone

❄️Knotting, nesting, heat

Then Cold Princes might be for you. Get your copy here: https://books2read.com/Cold-Princes

Omegas like me are choice property and worth millions to the right buyer.

When I'm taken by Father's enemies, I fear my fate is sealed. If I don't give these men what they want, I could lose more than I already have. If I do, I could lose myself.

But maybe I don’t know who I am.

Then Milo unexpectedly shows up, and I think I’m being rescued. But my captors make him an offer he may not refuse. Will he join them against my family?

I'm torn between my loyalty to my family and my attraction to these men. If I make the wrong decision, I could destroy everything.

#mpstarkweather #standalone #omegaverse #mafia #enemiestolovers #agegap #omega #knotting #availablenow

#books and reading #bookworm #books #book quotes

3 notes · View notes

marias-wonderland · 1 year

Text

Post-SoTL letters (N.2)

Hello once again. My writing muse came back and gave me this play between Clarice and Hannibal. They mostly talk about music but they obviously mean more than what they write.

(dedicated to my beta reader, @isidoros69 , whose support enables me to write once every blue moon. Also, to my wonderful fandom people! @louisfriend-ironsulfide @lotus-ignis @black-mushroom, @eyaeya111, @liwodot, @ladylshardlakesworld, and to whoever is still around!)

Words: 1965

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dear Clarice

The view from my window is bringing peace upon my soul, and the pinot grigio accompanied with the artichokes and bottarga salad is only complimenting the scenery. The clouds seem they have engulfed the sky, casting a leisurely but simultaneously melancholic essence of self-discovery. The wind gently shakes the trees and the flowers, the white petals of those flowers in harmony they dance in the wind, floating in the beauty of an invisible river. While gazing the eternal grey world in front of me, the notes of Chopin’s Nocturne Op. 27 No. 2 brought an inquiry to my mind. Do you enjoy listening to music, Clarice?

With gratitude Dr. Hannibal Lecter, MD

Dear Dr. Lecter

It seems that in the end, you got what you wanted. There are no bars or cells for you anymore, neither restrictions nor rules. You are free to gaze upon the same sky as I am. Free to indulge in what your soul desires, however wicked or wrong it is, stifling does not suit your persona. The evening sounds pleasing, Doctor. You are the maven of the bon vivant way of acting after all. Given our different upbringing, our music tastes are going to appear completely dissimilar. Yes, I do enjoy some music tunes so I can wind off after a hard day of work (I would mention dancing at clubs but, something tells me they’re not your cup of tea). I’m not a person who pays too much attention to the artists, I listen to whatever feels good to me. Madonna and Whitney Houston being some of them, as well as Michael Jackson and Prince. Cyndi Lauper and David Bowie are also good. Generally speaking, if I like the tune, I will join in. Please don’t hold back on your knowledge about this, I’m certain your mind is like a living library of information. Perhaps you could suggest me composers I would enjoy.

With Respect Clarice M. Starling

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Clarice

It is of the human nature to seek out for our freedom, regardless of our wrongdoings. Always remember that deep down, even the most altruistic person hides a tinge of egoism. The instincts of survival are primordial, way before humans thought their laws could outlaw the wrath of nature. Never apologise for what you do not know. Only for what you had the chance to know but refused to. Our differences make us unique and seductive, temptation is of the greatest sins for a reason. I never expected the musical literacy of the orphanage to be of high character. Neither of course the cultural heritage you carry could ever lead you to such paths.

One should start small. Try listening to four seasons by Vivaldi. I recommend “autumn” for you. It is the most overlooked piece by the four of them, and yet it perfectly enhances and encapsulates the essence of chase, of hunting. Vivaldi himself had written poems for his compositions. Try reading the poems while listening to the pieces.

“The hunters, at the break of dawn, go to the hunt.

With horns, guns, and dogs they are off,

The beast flees, and they follow its trail”

May the hunt never end indeed

With gratitude Dr. Hannibal Lecter, MD

Ps. Have you ever looked at a person and wondered how their essence would be convened into music? Because I have. For you. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Dr. Lecter

The element of surprise is always present when I’m talking to you. The moment I’m ready to drop the letter on the table, you come back with the most intriguing piece of flattery.

I bought the records you recommended. As for the poems, I had quite a time with the local libraries but all's well that ends well.

Autumn is a limbo between life and death, a bittersweet season, it's not death already but not life anymore.

Doing tasks only for them to be left incomplete, never being able to see the finish line.

But also you can sense the joy, the energy that the hunt is giving to both the hunter and the pray. The thrilling that ambuscades give to two communicating vessels.

But behind all that, one can still feel the merriment of summer and the cautiousness of winter. Perfect blend of seasons.

I listened to the rest of the season on my day off, with a glass of wine on my hand while gazing at the night sky. It was a tranquil evening.

You were right, autumn was my favourite. I hope you are going to recommend me more compositions. As for the hunt it will inevitably end, and we both know the results, Doctor.

“The exhausted beast tries to flee, but dies."

With respect

Clarice M. Starling

Ps. Your insightfulness never stops astonishing me. I hope you are going to expand your thoughts a bit further. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Clarice

The path to self-realization finds the impediment of our current mind. Only the conquest of it could lead you to your true self.

I had planned of discussing with you the significance of Mozart in the classicism wave but, a certain… a minor shift to my plans, brought to my attention the representative of Russian nationalism, Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky.

Besides, Mozart’s compositions are characterized by a fervent sequence to rules, something which you can put aside if the moment demands for it. Tchaikovsky on the other hand favoured emotional progression, the catharsis of the soul, the joys, loves, and sorrows of the human heart with striking and poignant sincerity.

I believe you would enjoy some of his lesser known compositions. I suggest “Souvenir de Florence”. I listened to it very recently and the breadth of the sound is something which can captivate you.

As for my last thought, it is a tendency that most musicians share. Almost like a personal whim, translating internal emotions into notes and symphonies. The more joy something brings to us, the more music echoes to our ears.

I would be glad to share my speculations about you, but always in exchange. Quid pro quo Clarice.

So please tell me

How would my existence be translated into music, Clarice?

With gratitude

Dr. Hannibal Lecter, MD

Ps. We’ve chatted for so long and yet, I didn’t send my greetings to our old pal Jackie boy. Please dedicate to him Mozart’s “Requiem”, I’m certain his long lost soul is fit for it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Dr. Lecter

Thanks to your suggestions, I’ve become a reappearing figure at my local antique shop and even managed to get the vinyls at a better price since “No young people nowadays care about the classics”.

You stand correct once again, I remained motionless throughout the course of the performance. This one I believe fits better to be listened at day, the crystal clear sky mirroring the composer’s will for life.

Regarding your last request, I am afraid that I can not come up with a satisfactory answer for your criteria. I am able to describe people’s actions with words and explain their reasoning behind that but, music was always an uncharted territory for me.

If you could be kind enough to help me on that one, I would appreciate it.

With respect Clarice M. Starling

Ps. I’m aware you know of Bella’s deteriorating health but, it is him who takes the toll for both of them. It is almost painful to watch. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~`

Dear Clarice

You were doing so fine, following the lead and completing the tasks you were given.

Now the agent came tête-à-tête with an actual challenge and requires the assistance of someone more au courant.

It is clear I’ve asked you to act beyond your training.

Very well, follow my lead and in your next letter try to live up to your name.

When you come to my mind, a plethora of notes burst into my mind, rampant and joyous, sorrowful and cynical.

A feeling of recurring sadness and despair. Occasional, fleeting moments of upbeat melodies feel more like episodes of painfully self-aware mania among a constant bedrock of fear, and pain. A sense of loss that always revives when I listen to it again.

The expression of a broken rage, a lost love, a forgotten memory, a dead rose somehow flourishing, coming all together in a sick melancholy and expression of reasonable insanity.

Reminiscent of the monotony of our daily lives and how little of a choice we have in it, yet can't help being upbeat to an extent with hope.

I find it quite intriguing, the different emotions each of us convey through these majestic chimes. As for me, I sense harmony and merriment.

Words convey understanding that music fails to describe, but music conveys emotion words cannot express.

However it is due to the emotions it releases that our simplistic human minds cannot comprehend nor explain, a conundrum of melancholous, yet peaceful feelings that no music nowadays can do the liberty of replicating.

This is how I see you. Trying to grasp the sinister world around you, but are you ready to feel the icy fingers of terror stroke your heart?

With gratitude

Dr. Hannibal Lecter, MD

Ps. Try closing your eyes and focus on how you would translate each emotion you feel into humming. How does anger sound to you? Quick and loud or rapid and silent? Follow this advice and then you will be able to answer me. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Dr. Lecter

Thank you for your insight and leading. It took me some time and a lot of concentration to find an answer worthy enough of writing down but, I’m confident this is it.

When you come to my mind, this mixture of brilliant eloquence and inhuman cruelty deluges it.

The music starts with melancholy. Dark, with hints of sweetness underlying a tone of despair. Intensity rises. Grief makes way for anger, insanity and a welcoming of death's tender embrace. Life has become hell.

Music is now fast. The grasp on reality porous and thin, like butter scraped over too much bread. The light tries to resist, but what little control remains is slipping, struggling to fight back.

The darkness, emboldened by the chaos, responds in kind, eager to stamp out the last embers of hope.

The darkness has taken root now. The host no longer resists the parasite's will. But within the darkness, there’s a new purpose. The devil might have changed his appearance but he cannot betray his nature.

He plays furiously, boundless now he roams free. His muster unrelenting, devouring. In his wake, only one thing remains… the purest representation of humanity's dualism. The eternal conflict for humanity's soul.

The end is bittersweet, like the aftermath of the self-casted war between spirit and mind with casualties being the human soul.

On the whole, I would say that it is the manifestation of a dance not with someone else but with yourself, you are dancing with your shadow, with your ego, and that makes it special.

Almost inveigling the gazer into taking a place to the dance With respect

Clarice M. Starling

Ps. I can not help myself but picture waltzes whenever I’m listening to my vinyls. Have you ever taken part in this type of dance, Doctor? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dear Clarice

I must congratulate you for your quick learning, your rapid adaptation to your environment truly will help you survive.

If you ever knew me in my personal life, you would know I never turn down an invitation to dance.

I wholeheartedly enjoyed our conversation but I am afraid I have to put it to an end for now, for I am going on a trip. One should always exercise their body as well their mind. It would also be my pleasure to teach you how to waltz.

It would be the perfect body exercise for the both of us.

With gratitude

Dr. Hannibal Lecter, MD

#hannibal #hannibal lecter #Clarice Starling #the silence of the lambs #clannibal #hannibal x clarice #epistolary fiction #discussions about music #mention of dancing #these two will be the death of me #hope you enjoy

35 notes · View notes

davy-zeppeli · 2 months

Text

So I don't own a diary so I'm writing my thoughts here because it's my blog, fuck you.

The past month has been absolutely hellish. I've changed teams at work, had immense pressure put on me following this due to other managers in my area feeling the need to hound and scrutinise my team's work, and then I broke up with my partner, essentially throwing away any and all financial and home security I had in my future.

I separated with my partner for my own independence and freedom, to put it bluntly. 4 years together showed me we were perfect for eachother - same music taste, sams interests, many great and fun adventures together - but after 4 years, little things built up. Not being able to take the bus without scrutiny. Not being able to buy things I want in the shop due to it 'wasting money'. Stopping drinking because he didn't like it. Not being able to stay over at a friend's house without giving him dates and times I'd be back, as well as who I'm staying with and where. One of our last discussions was him asking me if I still loved him, which I did and do - but he also asked me if I'd been seeing other people. I didn't know it at the time, but it was a level of insecurity and fear expressed by him that was the primary indicator that something wasn't right.

About a week or so later, I suggested I move out and we try being friends.

This was not easy. Jesus Christ, it was hard. He took it well, and I can say now after a few more weeks we've both made peace with it. We're still best friends. He always will be! But it feels good now knowing that we're classifying our relationship as what it always was - best friends who live together. I've been told on numerous occasions that we really did just seem like roommates who happen to be together, and it only took until now to see it. But, despite it all, I feel a lot happier following my decision.

I have a flat pretty much secured for May - he has a new flat mate lined up for after I leave. I have my freedom, and now it's a case of getting used to it.

Then comes my other crisis: Daniel.

So, I really hope he doesn't ever see this. He won't.

I've worked with Dan for over a year now - occasionally saying hello in the office after bonding at a work's party. Separate teams, never had much reason to interact past that. Until I moved teams - onto his team.

When I say this man has been a crucial anchor for me, I mean in wholeheartedly and with such sincerity that I can't put it into words in a way that would do it justice. He was the one who made me realise, yeah, my situation isn't great at the moment, is it? Yeah, I enjoy going out, don't I? Yeah, the anti-depressants aren't nuking my libido, are they? It's something else. He's one of the most chill, sarcastic, and real people I've met in a long time - and he's got his own trauma to show for it. We've made the joke we're similar - both in therapy, both play instruments, both love music, etc. But as such, we both know how to read eachother too well. And boy, he read me like a book.

After going to his open mic (with his family, might I add. I thought more people would be going, but no - it was me and his family) and one gig with him, I'd realised I like him. A lot. A painful amount, actually. Yes, getting over my failed relationship was definitely contributing to it, but I can say now as well, with the beauty of hindsight, I do still like him. If he asked, I would. If he does ask, I will. He's very important to me. I like him very much.

It then became evident he liked me back.

I won't sugar coat it - we've slept together. At this point in time, about 6 or 7 times. That's more than I did with my partner in 4 years. I should feel like dirt for my quick 'turnaround' but I just can't bring myself to care about it. I thought I was broken, man, and that the anti-depressants had fucked me. Evidently not. He's told me after several heart-to-hearts that he cares about me a lot and trusts me. And I've echoed the same sentiment to him in return. I've stayed at his flat, we commute to work, I've met his family for christ's sake. You'd expect this to lead to us being together.

It has not lead to us being together.

To put it bluntly - he's not looking for a relationship right now. He has his own baggage he's trying to handle from a freshly broken relationship and moving house, so I am understanding. Does it make it hurt any less? Nope. When he told me this, aware I felt different, he put a boundary in place to protect me. No intimacy, just friends. I knew it was for the best, I trusted him and respected his needs. We moved on.

Now, the week following that decision? Torture. I wanted to be near him all the time, but had to make sure I respected him and his limits. It was for the best, in the end, because he was right - I was infatuated with him given my circumstances. So I can say now I'm not as head over heels for him as I was. He said it best himself: "I treat you with a little bit of respect and decency and you think I'm Jesus. You're just not used to having more than one of your needs met at once". Does that mean I don't like him any more in that way?

Absolutely not - but I know that it's something he doesn't want, so I'll put it on the back burner indefinitely. I love him too much as a friend to risk losing him over something like this.

Then comes last night.

The boundary was in place. We went out following a particularly stressful work day. We drank, we listened to live music, we had fun! Near the end of the night, he asked me how I felt towards him. Unprompted, almost. So I answered honestly:

I like him. Can't deny I like him. But I'm able to see that it's not what he wants, and I'm fine with that. I respect his boundaries. It doesn't mean I'm not attracted to him. His reaponse?

He nods. He asks me how I'm getting home. I say I haven't planned it. He asks if I want to go back to his. I agree. Once most people have left the bar and we're two of the few people left, he kisses me. Good fucking god it was like being hit with a bat. I'd missed it. I missed him. Needless to say, we went home, played some Guitar Hero, and then slept together. Our situation is friends with benefits and I'm happy with that.

Now, why am I typing all of this out? Like I said, I have no diary. I haven't been able to articulate these thoughts for a month in a way that would cause significantly reduced collateral damage. My therapy has been cancelled the past two times. I needed somewhere to speak.

If for some reason someone has read all of this - thanks? Feel free to ask questions. I don't mind. It might help me figure stuff out.

Until the next time, adios.

#me #ramblings #long post #read more

4 notes · View notes

the-book-wyverns-lair · 1 month

Text

Cold Princes

If you like:

❄️ Contemporary

❄️ Omegaverse

❄️ Why choose

❄️ Mafia

❄️ Enemies to lovers

❄️ Rivals

❄️ Age Gap

❄️ Forced Proximity

❄️ Beauty and the Beast vibes

❄️ Protective alphaholes

❄️ Secrets

❄️ Standalone

❄️Knotting, nesting, heat

Then Cold Princes might be for you. Get your copy here: https://books2read.com/Cold-Princes

Omegas like me are choice property and worth millions to the right buyer.

When I'm taken by Father's enemies, I fear my fate is sealed. If I don't give these men what they want, I could lose more than I already have. If I do, I could lose myself.

But maybe I don’t know who I am.

Then Milo unexpectedly shows up, and I think I’m being rescued. But my captors make him an offer he may not refuse. Will he join them against my family?

I'm torn between my loyalty to my family and my attraction to these men. If I make the wrong decision, I could destroy everything.

#mpstarkweather #standalone #omegaverse #mafia #enemiestolovers #agegap #omega #knotting #availablenow

#book recommendations #bookish #booklover #bookstagram #booktok #bookworm #romance #mafia romance #omegaverse

2 notes · View notes

dujour13 · 1 year

Note

If Woljif wasn't around (I know 😔) would things between Siavash and Daeran would have developed differently? Also, how about Siavash and Arueshalae? 👀 (And I kind of want to ask about Siavash and Salvadore.)

I haven't been thinking about these ones at all... just a couple essays' worth... Thank you so much 💕

Daeran

This one just doesn’t work at any level.

First of all, Daeran may gradually grow to have respect and affection for Siavash, but he’s not in love. He propositions him because Dae will be Dae, but there are no roses.

So in the hypothetical where there are roses: Siavash is all about grand romantic gestures. This would certainly get his attention. Then not-a-date—seeing Daeran relaxed and open would go a long away to softening relations, though they would still trade barbs. Siavash would be aware of what happened at Heaven’s Gate and feel more sympathy earlier on.

At that point Siavash would start seeing him as a rescue project. This would be bad. The one thing Daeran does want to be rescued from—the Other—he doesn’t believe is possible, and he absolutely does not want or need rescuing from anything else and would bitterly resent the attempt. Sincere friendship and support go a long way, but not some do-gooder trying to save him from himself.

Still, supporting each other through the horrors of the Abyss would create a real bond. In confronting the Other, Siavash doesn’t kill Liotr—he’s all about freedom and redemption requiring assuming responsibility for one’s actions. Daeran says he doesn’t resent it… but does he? The hypocrisy would not be lost on him. The freedom-loving azata turning him over to the Inquisition?

In the even more hypothetical that they got past all that, they’re just not in the same world. Daeran would make a wonderful traveling partner, but ultimately he’s rooted in Mendev with his titles and properties. The sex would be great at first, but Daeran would eventually get bored I’m afraid. Siavash’s absences probably wouldn’t hurt him as much as they would other lovers, but I could see those absences becoming longer and more frequent.

When together, Siavash would be a funny little lark singing in its cage in Daeran’s huge mansion. Dae could easily get him to dress better and refine his tastes in wine and other entertainments, but Siavash would chafe at the aristocratic lifestyle and would not get married or take the title of Count under any circumstances.

They are two men with different flavors of high charisma—Daeran’s in his beauty, his unapologetic forthrightness, his knowing exactly what he wants out of life; and Siavash’s in his cheerful, extroverted empathy and kindness. I think Siavash might be a little jealous of Daeran’s attractiveness and find his brand of charm too sharp-edged. Daeran would be exasperated with his people-pleasing and his sappy tastes.

Tldr - no

I answered for Arue here.

Salvadore

I confess the idea is intriguing 😁

Sal makes his forcefulness, righteousness and arrogance palatable by being elegant and suave, and that velvet fist vibe makes him extremely attractive to a certain type, though maybe not Siavash at first glance. The catalyst that would set off a wildfire would be finding out that underneath all that Sal has a tender, playful side he saves for those he’s closest to. That combination would go straight to Siavash’s brain like sniffing glue. He would have trouble keeping his thoughts straight.

Neither of them is unwise enough to believe it would work out in the long run, but Siavash could fall hard for Salvadore even knowing it was not meant to be.

I don’t want to read too much into what Sal thinks, but he might not be immune to the radiant smile and romantic flights of fancy, not to mention the occasional string duet. Siavash could never be his match like Daeran is, but I think he could make him laugh, and maybe soften his touch a little.

#thank you #sorry for rambling but these were too interesting #dmagedgoods #siavash #commander salvadore #daeran arendae

18 notes · View notes

meditating-dog-lover · 5 months

Text

Pushing myself

I''m on vacation in Cyprus right now and am happy and relaxed. I really like it here. I have the chance to relax and be at ease. It feels nostalgic here because it reminds me of the happy days I had living in the Middle East as a child minus the childhood trauma. I had a good trip there last week, but the trauma never leaves unfortunately. Cyprus is a simple and relaxing country. I love the streets, the weather, the warm people, the food (especially the fish) and cafes, the beaches, the small shops, the Christmas villages and decor. People here are also nice and the country is very safe (I go out for walks late at night as a woman and I feel very safe). People here are religious but without the fanaticism and backwardness. I may be an American but I'm open to other people's cultures and chatted with people here (mostly the cops) and they have this warm traditional personality (traditional as in an elder giving you wise advice, not traditional as in bigoted and close minded). That's also something I love. It's completely different from my "traditional" aunt who asked me who cooks for my dad and got surprised when I told her I want to establish a career before I get married. It's like talking to an adult who is wise and cares for you. So overall I like it here and am relaxed.

This is what brings me peace in my life. Being on my own in a relaxing area, especially by a beach or a nice Mediterranean village, drinking coffee or eating European style pizza, going out for walks, journaling, and being around warm people brings me peace. Even running my own small business. Or enjoying the night life with a lover either in a nice city or street or a nice hotel room. Away from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, tension, materialism, large crowds of people, and stress.

I get to spend time with my dad who has become extremely relaxed and laid back compared to how he was when we were growing up. He used to be strict and yell at us and even hit us. It's not excusable and I have no doubt in my mind that my grandmother made him extremely stressed and on edge. So he took it out on us. Those "dad's side of the family" memes perfectly apply to us unfortunately. I don't hate his family, I get along with them. But I know they have their own deep complexities I absolutely do not want to get involved in and they drove my dad crazy (and me too!). But I am free now and my dad gives me a lot of freedom because I am an adult and very responsible. He even encourages me to go out for late night walks and he lets me do whatever I want without controlling or worrying about me. So I no longer have to be a part of their mess. But my dad is in a great mood and we sit in the TV room together watching the news and Smurfs and Angry Birds (this is his taste in movies). It reminds me of the good old days before college. He also convinced me to try intermittent fasting, which was nice given that we were not raised on healthy foods and habits.

So overall the trauma is still there, but it doesn't impact me as much because I am free and on my own now. In the US with a good job and a nice house with 2 beautiful dogs. No one controls my money and expenses. No one has access to my bank account, nor my phone or laptop. I'm free and independent.

I get pretty stressed when I'm in the US over work and expenses. Feeling like I am so behind in life because I just started working and am working an entry level position. Also worried about money and if I come across a day where I am broke in the future. I know my parents have money and will never leave me without any sense of security (for all my dad's faults he is very financially responsible and never left us hungry or homeless and paid for out college tuition). Thanks to him I have never been in debt. But I know I am doing a great job even though I am young. I am responsible and eager to learn more.

I had the misconception that I am only academically smart as opposed to life smart. I am a cell biologist and worked hard in school and college to be where I am. It was absolutely worth it. However I'm still working on gaining life lesson, but I need to tell myself that I already have a lot of that.

According to City Personnel: "Book smart people have a lot of knowledge and can excel in school, but they don't handle real-world situations well. On the other hand, street smart people may not know much about books and tests, but they're experts at handling every situation that comes their way". I used to worry that despite having book smarts, I felt like I lacked life smarts (or street smarts) because I felt I didn't know how to handle real world issues. Especially someone like me who has anxiety. These include skills in career, finances, health, relationships and dating, and whatever life throws at you in general. These include valuable lessons worth knowing despite not having a complete education path nor the most academically leaning job. For example, my aunt is a college drop out and works as a waitress but has a lot of street smarts. And she's doing perfectly fine in life despite "college dropouts are losers" which is a total myth. If you have a PhD in engineering yet you cannot establish social skills, emotional intelligence, financial stability, then I don't think this guarantees a fully successful life.

I'm still learning in life and am doing great. And I need to stop pressuring myself. But again I do have concerns over (a) being deficient in life skills and (b) worrying about finances. Things will be okay, though.

3 notes · View notes

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain · 2 years

Note

If you wouldn't mind could you do the one where rielle ask azul to show him his mer form and azul finally caves after sometime pls

Can do!!

Azul needed to do something about this.

The constant visits of a certain red head in a white uniform. The many gifts. The aching words of affection and pleases.

He needs it all gone!

What's worst is the subject that recently hit his ears from that prince's voice- "Let's swim together Azul~!"

Swimming with the youngest prince? Don't make him laugh! Azul still remembers all those teasing words back in the day of his youth, the snickering remarks of his past self from those faces he was forced to see everyday without fail, the stinging pains he got from said words... He obviously just wants to try and trick me, that's for certain!

Then, how did he get to this single part of the story? Walking on the edge of a sand path with Rielle himself who's humming a tune happily as the ocean waves flood his ear drums in sound.

Well, it was most thanks to the damn twins he call friends. It was all Floyd's yapping and whining how he likes swimming with the freedom of it all and Jade bringing up tales of their guppy years. Add that with all that pressure from Rielle then you can see why he is here now.

Still, Azul can't help but have a aching in his chest.

Slowly, his lovely stormy eyes looked to the ocean that is so deeply consumed by the night sky as stars dance across the waves like glitter in those drinks they make in the lounge. As his eyes watch the waves pull in and out he started to hear the mocking words and laughter of those classmates in his mind, his eyes slowly beginning to burn with the sense of tears boiling up like a faucet turning on in a bathtub.

"Azul?"

Azul snapped out the painful memory and soon looked at Rielle who stands still near the beach's edge, ocean blue eyes shining in worry. "Are you okay? We don't have to swim..." He said, he sounds a bit disappointed but more concerned for his old classmate.

Azul hates pity.

"I can handle this. I'm not a weak link." He said with a scoff before getting the vile of the potion to transform them back to the merforms. Rielle gave a meek smile and took off his shoes and placed them neatly on the sandy side with Azul's glasses and their uniform coats.

The prince was first to drink the potion's half and jump into the water happily, leaving Azul to watch him go with shaky knees as he discarded his shoes.

Slowly, with a slight quivering hand, he brought the cold vile to his lips and drink the rest down his throat. He had to hold back the gags of the taste and after-flavor.

Slowly but surely he began to walk his way the waters and let it consume him fully, wrapping it's cold arms around his body in a tight hug he feels like he's suffocating.

Rielle swam a bit as soon as his beautiful blue green tail appeared instead of his legs, his hair lose and free to be a crazed red mess as his freckles shown at long last. He loved the ocean, he missed it dearly. The ocean was like a mother he missed for a long time. Sure he was right next to it due to school but to have the freedom to have the ocean play with the slight knots and curls of his hair was taken due to the walls of the school.

Walls...

Rielle thought back of his time back in his palace. The cold walls keeping him locked up away from the possibility of being welcomed to the world of his fellow classmates. The world full of laughter and true friendship, The world full of adventure and fun, The world of happiness and love.

The walls of the school of Royal Sword Academy was no different. Those walls blocked a lot of things out to "protect" but held a deeper issue of hiding the possible ugliness the students may have that could damage their views within the media, just like his so called "friends" back in those years in the reef.

Shaking his red hair, Rielle snapped out his mind of those kind of thoughts and turned to Azul with a bright smile. He stopped.

Azul stood there in his form, every bit of a flaw exposed to the open of the nightly swimming activity. His skin a light purple color compared to his pale ivory he has on the surface. His hair now more white and whisking about like a mist above sea form. His chest below a now semi soft leathery black texture stretching out to eight long thick tentacles with cute purple suckers showing on the bottom of some that squirm about. He can see the very faint signs of stretch marks on his hips and lower stomach going near his belly button as well as the scars of bite marks and small lines on his wrists and tentacles.

Azul shuffled a bit, the waiting of silence killing him deeply. This was a mistake He thought, his eyes glued to his body. Within a blink he saw his small fat body from the past instead of the one he has now. Within that blink he began to hear the nicknames that read as fine letters instead of the scars of cuts and bites on his arms.

"Beautiful perfection. . ."

With that the noise canceled within his eyes and his head snapped to stare at Rielle, seeing the glow of blush on his cheeks as he stares at him with soft eyes of awe.

Azul felt his heart began to beat fast as his voice plays those words over and over and over in his mind like a record player as his body felt light and sway with the waves.

Great Seven, I need to do something about this. . .

#twisted wonderland #azul x rielle #azul ashengrotto #prince rielle #twst rielle #sorry this took a while

34 notes · View notes

littlelesbinonny · 10 months

Text

The Devil’s Den

Chapter 10: In Which Rusted Gates Open Up Pt. 2

You can read this also on Ao3 at:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46831621/chapters/117962293

Alcina had longed for your touch more than she cared to admit, to hear her name spill from between your lips, but now she feared it. Feared where this might be going, feared what consequences lay beyond the threshold.

But you were the thing she craved the most.

The last remains of things that were still good in life. The realness. The gentleness. The ever-constant changing enigma of life itself, strung together by emotion and cause and effect; you were the embodiment of existence beyond the undead that she never felt she got to wholly grasp and conquer. Alcina always had something holding her down, binding her hands behind her back, hobbling her ankles so she could only go so far. Whether it was her parents or her illness, she had never truly been free.

But you... you were free. Freedom embodied in a beautiful soul, unchained and unhinged.

She desired you and your freedom. Your wings. Your sun-kissed skin and eyes full of light.

Perhaps she was viewing you as an absolution. Perhaps she was being selfish, clinging to desperation and the need to be free.

How could you possibly give that to her?

Perhaps, just perhaps, she was so starved for love and gentleness, her longing for softness and care had driven her to recklessness.

And yet... you seemed to syphon a desire deeper inside of her for change.

Real change.

Not just expanding the vast vaults of knowledge from the myriads and myriads of books she'd consumed until she thought she could read no more. No, the desire to make a change.

Run away. Start something new. Somewhere else.

With you.

She pondered your words while your warmth seeped into her skin. Neither of you owed the other anything, this was true. Only maybe the two of you owed it to yourselves the exploration of each other, the connection beginning, this wild meeting perchance the fates.

Alcina leaned over slightly, shortening the distance that lay between you, placing her other hand on top of yours, "Indulging you indulges me. This isn't about collecting or repaying debts; I said you may ask and I will answer or I won't, only you must understand there are some things I cannot answer simply because I don't know how, not that I don't want to," she offered as she bore her eyes into yours.

You loved having her this close.

Feeling her so near, the coolness of her hands enveloping yours, it was purely overpowering.

"That makes sense," you replied softly, "I think I know what you mean."

Of course you did. One of the many reasons Alcina could not let you go.

The rest of the night was spent by you listening to your lady vampire regale you of tales of her days on the stage as the grand 'Miss D'; the many places she traveled, the many struggles and mishaps of a traveling life, and her many, many, lovers. All women. All short-lived.

"I think I may have enjoyed New York audiences more than any others, perhaps closely second would be my audiences in France. The French love all things beautiful, and I apparently happened to be a particularly indulgent beauty across the board for them..." she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly, "I paid for nearly nothing during my residence there. Men and women lavished me in gifts, food, drink, attention, and I guzzled it up. But New York, back then anyway... the audiences were so alive. Needy, greedy even, of anything new and exciting. It was enough for someone like me to easily get drunk off. It was invigorating to be around people with such a desire for life and new experiences, new tastes, new sounds, new sights. It fed my ego and hunger for it all just as much. I swore I'd never leave this city, I didn't really think it would happen that way... but, here I still am."

Her smile faded gently and you shuffled on the couch once more.

"You really never wanted to go anywhere else?"

Alcina's brow perked up at your question, "Well, if given the opportunity I would have visited every inch of this world, but fate had other plans for me it seemed. But here felt different in the best ways possible. It felt like home just as much as it felt like a grand, never-ending vacation. There couldn't have been a better place for me."

The way she sighed told you she had much more to say, so you pressed, "Don't you still want to travel?"

She scoffed, but lightly, "Oh, more than anything. But as you must understand, traveling as a vampire is quite tricky; we can only travel by night, and if we do not make our routes in the timeslot available before the sun rises... the circumstance is deadly. The underground cities and tunnels stretch for miles and miles across the country, but only to very few places. Travel this day and age may be quicker in many fashions, but it still isn't without tribulation. Besides, with my position here in the underground city I am afraid I'm not allowed to travel much."

"Your position?"

Oops. Alcina had meant for you to work for that explanation further down the road.

She looked to you and your eagerness and intrigue once more and chuckled, "I was made Matriarch of this particular clan here in Manhattan."

Dude.

What?

You rapid blinked and then sat upright, nearly hanging over the arm of the couch. Though, there was a word there that hit differently; made, she said she was made Matriarch. Still, you had to ask.

"You're a Matriarch... what all does that entail? What's the name of the clan you oversee? How many are there?"

Alcina chuckled a little brighter, "As the Matriarch I act as an overseer of the clan governances, bloodlines and lineages, security and protection of not only the city but the vampires and lycans therein, resource management, and relations with the other clans. If things go wrong, I am the first to know, and the first to act. The clan I govern is called the Shadowed Dominion. There are 9 clans, some larger and smaller than others. Mine, is the largest."

Her memory betrayed her as the whole of her unwilling inauguration flew through her mind.

It was after Mother Miranda had found out about her love affair with her human. After destroying what happiness Alcina had found, she decided Alcina needed structure, something to do, something to keep her occupied and give her purpose. It was the last thing she wanted. Mother Miranda wanted nothing more than control. And she got it.

"Wait, vampires and lycans, like werewolves, live together?"

She couldn't have been more grateful for your question in that moment.

"Yes, they do now."

Your mind was swirling like a mad bees nest at this new information. You were sitting here, visiting, shooting the shit, with an underground vampire clan Matriarch. What even was life right now.

"I, ok I'm an ignorant human, but I thought vampires and werewolves hated each other?"

Alcina chuckled, "You're not ignorant, but you are correct. For centuries the two fought and killed each other, for trivial reasons, truly."

"So, how did that end?"

Alcina smirked. You were too much. She thrived off your hunger for her story.

"When I came into power the wars were still raging, brutally. Many years later my clan was called in as reinforcements at one point. Luckily for all of us, in hindsight, we happened to be stationed where the lycans' leader, Karl Heisenberg, and his troops were. It was easily the bloodiest battle each side had seen. There were only 11 of my vampires and 9 of his lycans still left at the end. He and I came to blows. It was clear it was going to be a stalemate, and I simply made the statement during the fight that if we continue, everything we're fighting for, or over, will be absolutely pointless because everyone is going to be dead. I offered a truce, from one leader to the other, to at least talk and decide if we continue the bloodshed or evolve."

The woman was a vampire Matriarch and a goddamn war hero. Wow.

"And just like that it was over?" you asked with wide eyes.

"Not quite. There was so much bickering, a lot of arguing and finger pointing, but eventually we came to an understanding of one another. Getting all of our clans on board took much longer. We were in councils for 3 years before the full of our truce became solid. Then we all began to coexist together. Heisenberg and his clan came to live with me and my clan, as a show of our commitment to the allyship. They've been with us ever since."

As you were about to ask another question the alarm on your phone went off.

It was 4 AM.

Alcina cocked a brow, "You set an alarm?"

There was no point hiding the blush spilling over your cheeks, "Yeah... I want to make sure you leave here with enough time to make it back before the sun comes up."

What was she supposed to say to that. Here you were, a two-week-old acquaintance, human no less, keeping an alarm set for your visits so she, a vampire, could make it back to the shadows safely.

Alcina rose slowly off the chair and stepped in front of you on the couch, bent down and cupped one side of your face. She stared into your eyes with an emotion she wasn't sure of herself.

"Come... walk me to the balcony."

You followed her silently to your bedroom after she donned her trench coat. You didn't want her to go. You were missing her already.

As she began to open the glass door you reached for her, gently running your fingertips just at the base of the curve of her perfect hip, stalling her as she was stepping out onto the balcony. You opened your mouth to speak but the words just sat there.

You felt a hollowness setting in. Somehow the need to be near her felt absolutely painful as it was being taken away. There still wasn't an accurate way for you to express how she made you feel, how alive and awake, aware, thriving off every moment - she fed something inside of you, only you didn't know what. It only seemed to be getting stronger.

Alcina sensed your unspoken intent.

Of course she did.

Another gracious smile took her crimson lips, and as she turned fully to face you she grabbed the fabric of your shirt up in her hands, tugging you into the proximity you weren't brave enough to engage. She could feel every ounce of your yearning and it made everything within her ache.

Everything.

She felt it too.

"You are tempting dangerous fate..." she muttered, closing the distance painfully slow, keeping you there, dangling off a ledge, "I'll see you again... draga mea."

She pressed her lips to your forehead. A new spark flashed at the base of Alcina's spine and she knew she needed to flee at this very moment.

And like that she was gone.

You stood there slightly stunned as the feeling of her lips lingered on your skin. It was wonderful. Exhilarating. You wished wholeheartedly to know what they felt like against your own, and you weren't even running from the idea anymore.

Eventually you returned to the living room and blew out the remaining candles, grabbed her gloves, which she so conveniently forgot a second time, and flopped on your bed. You had so much to digest from tonight, so many more questions to mull over.

But firstly, what did 'draga mea' mean?

You grabbed your phone and did a poor job searching, going off phonetics. Luckily Google was much smarter than you and it knew what you meant.

"My darling," in Romanian.

Oh.

She called you her darling. You honestly weren't sure how to absorb that information, as if everything else you'd heard tonight wasn't enough. You laid back and placed your phone on the nightstand, eyes wide at the ceiling and her gloves on your chest, tight in your grasp.

Draga mea. My darling.

Sighing contently, your heart swelling and mind a puddle, you closed your eyes and hummed to yourself.

Sleep was swiftly on you, along with the smile on your face.

Sunday.

Ugh, Sunday.

You had to work tomorrow. Another five boring days of desk-jockeying you really could do without. Your bills couldn't, but you could.

The wonderland that consisted of your lady vampire was coming to a halt. You wouldn't be able to stay up all night chatting away the rest of the world.

This sucked.

The sun had only set not half an hour before suddenly, from your languid sprawl on your bed, a shadow appeared on the balcony and allowed itself in like a swooping bird of prey.

You about dropped your book and scrambled to sit up.

"Did I frighten you, draga mea?" came that painfully smooth undertone.

God she looked like an ethereal vixen.

Tonight she was wearing her leather jacket that rested just above her hips, the stark bright silver of the fashionable zippers brining to light her curving waist and buxom chest. Underneath she wore a deep red turtleneck. Her pants, black jeans, tight as usual, and black leather boots up to her knees with a nice heel.

Oof.

"Uh-hm -" you sputtered, "no, well sort of. It's early, I wasn't expecting you until later," you smiled finally gathering your bearings, sitting cross legged on the mattress.

Alcina admired how comfortable you looked; slightly disheveled and with loose fitting clothes, that light blue shirt with a very droopy neck hanging off one shoulder. Mmm, you looked a little too inviting. She loved it.

"You have work tomorrow, do you not?"

Fuck.

Yeah.

You sighed heavily and tossed your book on your night stand, "yeah, unfortunately."

"Hence why I am here early," she cooed sauntering towards you, a perfect brow arching gently, "you've been burning the midnight oil, as they say, for 3 nights in a row now... I would be a terrible companion if I continued to sap your sleep when you have responsibilities tomorrow."

Companion? Did she just say that? Dare you question it?

Nah. Nope. Leave it be. You'll treasure that even if she meant it or not.

"You're not terrible. It's been my choice, and truly I'd rather it continue then return to my desk prison."

She chuckled low and that timbre settled deep in your stomach. You may have shuddered a little.

"Be that as it may, your duties are your duties, as mine are mine," she tucked a long leg under her and gracefully lowered herself in front of you on the mattress and smirked, "but, I wanted to see you anyway, even if briefly before you sleep."

What was happening? No, really, what was happening? This was starting to feel like the two of you were dating, the casualness of what once was suddenly out the window and into a nose dive.

Ok.

Yes.

Alcina was no more than two feet from you, her face illuminated brilliantly by the brightness of your amber salt lamp.

You decided to do the thing.

Gently and slowly you reached out and tucked one stray strand of her black hair behind her ear, and you were one-hundred percent correct; it was silky as you had imagined. You caught the flutter of her eyelids at your touch and retreated, unsure how far to press.

"We could go into the living room for a bit?"

Alcina snaked her own hand to your knee and squeezed gently, considering your offer far too much, wanting to give in and stay another night.

"You must rest, and I must see to some business."

Her voice was soft and hinted of her own disappointment, and as she rose so did you.

"Business, huh?" you inquired with a playfulness, "up to no good, I hope," you grinned up at her, tilting your head.

You really were trying her. And yet she couldn't wipe the smile off her own face.

"I am always up to no good," she teased right back, stepping in closer than ever before, "and you..." her voice changed to a whisper, "seem to bring it out in me."

Suddenly you could no longer feel your legs underneath you, all you could feel was the blood pumping from your heart and thrashing through your veins at an alarming rate.

Instinctually your hands reached for her mid-section as you felt you might collapse. Her hands were already palming your jawline and the space between you disappeared.

Her lips felt like sin and blessings and everything in between. The rush was euphoric on a level you'll never know again. Her flesh was cool but wholly edible. So soft. So plush. So perfect.

Did you moan? You weren't sure, but you would almost bet on it.

It was over too fast and your vision was blurry as she pulled back, but your fingers were still gripping to the leather of her jacket like your life depended on it.

Alcina chuckled.

She traced your face gently and gave you a wink.

"Until next time, draga mea," Alcina said softly, taking your hands from her waist and bringing them to her lips.

A chaste kiss graced each set of knuckles and with a near puff of a breeze she had disappeared once more.

You rushed to the balcony, not expecting to see her, but perched none the less on your forearms and studied the ground below. You were smirking and cursing her all at the same time.

Brat, you thought.

But apparently, maybe, she was your brat?

Maybe.

You knew you pretty much belonged to her at this point; unbeknownst to you you had given yourself to her before you were even aware. It may even have happened the night she bit you.

Was it her doing, this submission? This draw, this undeniable need?

Who fucking cared.

Death by vampire? Sign me up, you thought.

Alcina was feeling more invigorated than she had in years. She hadn't really intended on kissing you, but, how could she not?

You were there, so enticing, so perfect. Resisting urges wasn't really her forte, never had been, never would be. And you, you were an urge of all urges.

When she finally reached her destination, her daughters were hidden next to the Harlem pier. Dressed in all black, hooded cloaks covering their lovely faces, waiting in the shadows for their mother.

She approached and smirked, "Ah, my lovely girls, are we ready for a hunt?"

"You are in an awfully good mood, mother," Cassandra remarked knowingly, receiving a nudge from Bela.

Alcina cocked a brow, her smile unrelenting, "Am I not allowed to be excited for a hunt with my girls? It's been far too long."

"I'm sooo excited," Daniela interjected, "evil blood is the best blood!"

"Mmm, that it is," she agreed, "no rules for this round, girls. The gang hides over on that side, near the port. Just don't be exceptionally messy, I'm not sure when the rain is expected tonight... leaving a lot of blood, even out here, can be risky."

Bela, Daniela, and Cassandra were all smiles now, eager to sink their teeth into flesh. Waiting for the nod from their mother, they growled in anticipation for the kill.

"Ready?" Alcina smiled, bearing her fangs, "Go."

#alcina dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu/reader #alcina dimitrescu/female reader #alcina dimitrescu/original female character #fanfic #fic #lesbian #f/f #wlw #slow burn #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu

6 notes · View notes