#'beautiful poetry mixed with kindness'

[thislovintime]

Clips from 1997 and 2006.

Q: “Why did you get into the music business?” Peter Tork: “Approval. Respect. Love. Girls.” - Beachwood Confidential, 1995 (x)

* * *

"What I was working towards was to be in a group. When the Beatles hit, where were all the folkies going to go? But I also wanted to be a folk music performer. A lot of what I did was hanging out, feeling for the first time that I was part of the scene, walking down the street and seeing people I knew, doing a little flirting." - Peter Tork, Bringing It All Back Home: 25 Years of American Music at Folk City (1986) (x)

* * *

"Dear Peter, I hope this doesn’t sound stupid. It’s something I’ve always wanted to know. Why do rock stars get all the women? I figured you would know. Even my sister likes you a lot and she doesn’t really like anyone very much. She says hi, btw. I was thinking of becoming an architect but that doesn’t seem to get the girls excited. Should I learn to play guitar? Thanks bro,  Jon L."

"Dear Jon, Thanks for asking. I’ve never wondered the same thing; I’ve been too busy trying to get the women by being a pop star so I’ve never had time to stop and tell on the roses, as it were. But since it all came up lo, these many years ago, I’ve actually given the matter some thought. Here’s some of what I’ve come up with: For one thing, those of us who got into show business did so IN ORDER to get attention. This is sometimes an outgrowth of a conviction in childhood that people didn’t much care about us, or even notice us. We determined that if we could get the millions (or, say, dozens) to love us, then it wouldn’t matter that we weren’t much regarded on an individual basis in our youth. For some of us, it worked. Unfortunately, it has its drawbacks. You don’t get to know these ahead of time, so I’m going to tell you. One of them is, that the girls we do get mostly want us for the show we put on. By that, I don’t mean only the stuff that goes on onstage, but the way we present ourselves when we meet someone. I have a ready stock of funny stories and sly ways to hook a girl in, but in the end, that’s what she goes for, and when it comes time for me to be myself, she’s always kind of shocked. […] Check it out: architecture is a deeply satisfying career and you’re going to find a relationship that suits you if you’ll only let it happen and what you do for a living will be only one measure of your true value in the eyes of a worthy, intelligent, supportive woman. Good luck, Peter” - Ask Peter Tork, The Daily Panic, 2008 (x)

* * *

"In spite of all his clowning, Peter was a rather serious chap. […] Peter was a loud, powerful singer (I used to call him a romp’em, stomp’em type of singer), while I was a soft ballad singer. He had enormous stage presence and I had very little. He played the banjo, I played the guitar. […] He was restless and intense, while I was calm. He loved to be with a lot of people all of the time, whereas I liked to be completely alone some of the time. And last, but not least, Peter Tork had quite a way with the girls." - Bruce Farwell, 16’s The Monkees: Here We Are (1967) (x)

* * *

“Next to his music, girls interested Peter Tork more than anything else in the whole wide world. He loved them all — and most of them loved him. Peter wasn’t tall, dark or handsome, but he made up for his liabilities with his great warmth, enthusiasm and sense of humor. He was also basically a very kind and giving person. He just had a way of making people happy even when he was broke, freezing cold and there were no prospects for work in the future. That Pied Piper-ish quality Peter had attracted girls of all shapes and sizes. He had many brief romances and a couple of very serious ones, and even today Peter is still good friends with almost every girl he knew, dated, or fell in love with during his Greenwich Village days.” - Lance Wakely, 16, March 1967

* * *

“Peter was great for the chicks of the village… they queued up to see him and talk to him. But eventually he had an offer to join the Phoenix Singers, who were short of a guy to play banjo AND guitar. And if you still have any doubts about whether he really does play, and play well, then the thing to do is ask the management behind the Phoenix Singers. Even without the Monkees, there is little doubt that the amiable Peter would have mae the grade in the music business. When, eventually, Peter went to the West Coast, to California, he wasn’t kept waiting long for fame. Within two months he was auditioned and accepted for the Monkees. Behind him was a mass of previous girlfriends but, unlike many blokes, Peter has the knack of staying on very friendly terms with girls even after he’s stopped going out with them.” - Record Mirror, February 25, 1967

* * *

“...Inside his dressing room, he towels the sweat from [his] head, takes out a guitar, pulls up a chair and starts singing ME a song. [...] He DIPS me, yes, like a dance dip, asks me permission and then kisses ME chastely on my cheek!... [...] Months later, when I returned back to earth, I received a three page letter from Peter Tork (remember, he asked me for my address before the dip) which was just beautiful, poetry mixed with kindness, which is how I choose to this day to describe him as a human.”:

“I heard this on the radio!

‘TODAY at 4pm, THE MONKEES will be appearing at RECORD WORLD!’

I looked at a map to see where Record World was located (yes, I had a map in my glove compartment) and plotted and within seconds, turned the car in the opposite direction of Georgetown and hightailed to some mall in Virginia. The line to meet the Monkees was surprisingly huge. It wrapped all the way around the mall twice. Anxious to make it back to campus for the first night of my senior year, which we all know is the BEST night of the year, I became anxious the line was too long and The Monkees would leave before they got to me. I needed to come up with a plan, stepping off the line, I found myself moments later in Sharper Image, purchasing a small tape recorder.

With tape recorder in hand, I marched myself up to the security guard outside the RECORD WORLD where all four of the Monkees were signing records.

‘I’m here from the Georgetown University newspaper, The Hoya. I wasn’t even sure if that was the title of our school newspaper…a lucky guess.

‘I’m hoping to get a quick interview with the guys.’

‘Sure, right this way.’

WOW!  That was easy.

They let me cut the line and stand RIGHT behind the Monkees while they continued to sign records. Me looking out at a sea of other Monkee lunatics, just like me!

OMG!!!  I had NO questions, I had no way of handling being this close to the four guys that I spent my entire pubescent life fantasizing about marrying, dancing or at least camping!

‘Hello.’ Micky Dolenz says to me!!! and I go numb. I got nothing.  

I look over to Peter Tork, who asks me my name and when I say Mary, Davy Jones chimes in and says, ‘Ah, Mary Mary.’


WHAT!!!!????  Smelling salts please?? (Actually, true story, Lara did really pass out once when she met Davy Jones at a book signing!)

I stumbled my way through the interview, holding up the tiny tape recorder every time I asked a question. Thankfully they never caught on that the tape recorder didn’t even have batteries in it or that I had not actually pushed any of the buttons to start or stop recording. I just moved it from my mouth to their face, like a child playing make-believe.

I kindly say thank you and tear up. The security guard ushers me away from the table but right before I was about to steal a tuft of [Micky]’s hair, Peter Tork looks at me and said, ‘write your phone number down here.’

In a Monkees haze, I write it and then, I’m quickly whisked away by security.

I cried the entire 3-hour car ride back to DC, happy tears, and this was before cell phones, so I had no one to call and scream the news. Just me, alone, reliving how I had just pulled off a Monkees miracle.

When I arrived back to my senior year house, all my pals were wondering why I was so late and informed me I had thirty minutes to get dressed because we were all heading out for the BIG first night back at school. The night you waited all summer long for, so you could show off how great you looked to your biggest crush.

I threw down my bag, jumped in the shower and was interupted by my roommate telling me that I had a phone call.

Wet from the shower, I grabbed the call.

‘Hi.  This is the Monkees Tour Manager.  Peter Tork asked me to leave two tickets for you at the Will Call for tonight’s show.  It starts at 8pm.’

I looked at the clock…it was 6pm….the concert was two hours away, back to where I had just left the scene of my delicious deception.

I HAD TO GO!

I started down my list of roommates to come with me, one at a time, rejection, followed with ‘YOU’RE NUTS!!’

Finally, I bribed my most beautiful and most fun pal Emily to join me. I think the bribe was, I’ll pay all your bar tabs the entire first semester if you drive to Virginia with me.  If you saw how we drank back then, this was a generous offer.

She agreed to join me, but made me promise we could be back by midnight as to not miss out on the first night back to school.

‘Done!’

And there we were, back in my car, heading two hours south, right back to where I just come from.

We arrived at the concert hall and Emily (my personal timekeeper) reminded me. ‘You have two hours…that’s it.’

We had great seats and a bunch of songs in, a roadie came and plucked us from our seats to go backstage. WHAT!

There was an intermission or maybe it was the moment between the last song and the encore, but all I remember what that it was fast and there was a lot of scrambling.

This was the first ‘backstage’ I had ever seen.  A minute in, Peter Tork comes over to ME!?  Says, ‘I’m so glad you made it’ and invites ME!? into his dressing room.

I look at Emily, who somehow understands just how big a deal this was to me and grants me, sternly, ‘10 minutes!!’

Inside his dressing room, he towels the sweat from [his] head, takes out a guitar, pulls up a chair and starts singing ME a song.  

The 13-year old girl in me dreamt about this moment for years and now it was right in front of me. My very own little concert with Peter.

‘2 minutes!’ An announcement comes up on a loud speaker, but the perfect amount of time for him to put down his guitar, change his shirt, tell me that I was a very special person (something about my aura), asks me to write down my address in a small book AND then………

He DIPS me, yes, like a dance dip, asks me permission and then kisses ME chastely on my cheek!

The door opens, Emily is now [tapping] her feet and thwarting off flirtatious talk by Davy Jones (with something I remember as subtle as ‘FUCK OFF!’)

‘You’re done!’ She tells me sternly.

I was, forever.  Forever change, just like Marcia Brady was when Davy Jones kissed her on her cheek.

The whole ride home we laughed at the idea that we were ‘groupies’ and I tried to downplay to her how UNBELIEVABLE and SUREAL the whole moment was. Like I had manifested a dream.

Later that night, back with other people my own age, back to what we all deemed very important…shots and dancing, I was still reliving every moment of what happened that magical day, wishing I had a phone to call Lara (she’d never believe it) or that that there was a special Monkees hotline that I could call to discuss ‘my feelings.’

‘What is that!?’ My friend Chudney asked me mid dance to Franki Valli’s Oh What A Night, pointing to a small foam ball peeking perfectly outside the middle of my bra. I looked down, reached in and just started laughing.

Peter’s microphone fob (or whatever the furry thing is at the tip of the microphone) must have fallen into my shirt during our torrid dip.

This was sure to go into the Smithsonian of my life.  

Months later, when I returned back to earth, I received a three page letter from Peter Tork (remember, he asked me for my address before the dip) which was just beautiful, poetry mixed with kindness, which is how I choose to this day to describe him as a human.

Yes I was 22 and he was 52, yes this moment would be fully frowned upon today, but it was my moment, willingly and open heartedly.  I willed myself backstage and into that dressing room and I’m grateful for that his real sweetness and this (I’m hoping you find benign and funny) story.

Yesterday when I heard of Peter’s passing, I danced with my daughter (even dipped her a few times) and then expressed gratitude to Peter and The Monkees for keeping me innocent, for keeping me weird and for keeping me alive with possibilities of real love – the kind you get from a song, or a glance or a sweet cheek kiss.” - Mary Giuliani, thriveglobal dot com, February 2019

#Peter Tork #Tork quotes #Tork videos #The Monkees #Monkees #1960s #1970s #1980s #1990s #2000s #2010s #early 1960s #'beautiful poetry mixed with kindness' #Monkees fans #long read #Tork fan recollections #1997 #2006 #Ask Peter Tork #Beachwood Confidential Newsletter #Bringing It All Back Home: 25 Years of American Music at Folk City #can you queue it

[unhinged-snake-jaw]

i got the iliad a day early omfg

#already read nearly 100 pages #most of it is the intro + translator’s note though. #i really considered liveblogging but i think i’d rather obsessively read it and THEN post all my thoughts #it’s so cool though just. it’s so DIFFERENT from fagles but there’s kind of a few similarities but i also think they prioritise different t #things (i havent read much of fagles’ translation’s intro or translators note but i hope to read it later) #and ive had the weirdest thought but i wish this could be translated into hindi too because like. it would be so beautiful. #maybe that mix of hindi sanskrit urdu which like i somerimes find in poetry (tbf hindi IS my secomd language so the lines are much more blu #blurred for me) #but anyway im in love with this translation rn. it’s hypnotising #regan.speaks #the iliad #emily wilson

[phaedraismyusername]

This year some of my favourite books I read were written by indigenous American authors and I just wanted to shout out a couple that I fell in love with

The Only Good Indians by Stephen Graham Jones

Horror being my second most read genre, I did not think books could still get under my skin the way this one did lol. It follows four Blackfoot men who are seemingly being hunted by a vengeful... something... years after a fateful hunting trip that happened just before they went their separate ways. The horror, the dread, the something... pure nightmare fuel 10/10

Moon of the Crusted Snow by Waubgeshig Rice

An apocalyptic novel following an isolated Anishinaabe community in the far north who lose contact with the outside world. When two of their young men return from their college with dire news, they set about planning on how to survive the winter, but when outsiders follow, lines are drawn in the community that might doom them all. This book is all dread all the time, the use of dreams and the inevitability of conflict weighs heavy til the very end. An excellent apocalypse story if you're into that kind of thing.

My Heart is a Chainsaw by Stephen Graham Jones

This book follows Jade, a deeply troubled mixed race teenager with a shitty homelife who's *obsessed* with slasher movies. When she finds evidence that there's a killer running about her soon-to-be gentrified small town, she weaponises that knowledge to predict what's going to happen next. I don't think this book will work for most people, it's a little stream of consciousness, Jade's head is frequently a very difficult place to be in, but by the last page I had so much love for her as a character and the emotional rollercoaster she's on that I had to mention it here.

Elatsoe by Darcie Little Badger

Taking a bit of a left turn but this charming YA murder mystery really stuck with me this year. Elatsoe is a teenage girl living in an America where myths, monsters, and magic are all real every day occurrences. When her cousin dies mysteriously with no witnesses, she decides to do whatever she can, including using her ability to raise the spirits of dead animals, to solve the case. The worldbuilding was just really fun in this one, but the Native American myths and influence were the shining star for me, and the asexual rep was refreshing to see in a YA book too tbh

Split Tooth by Tanya Tagaq

The audiobook, the audiobook, the audiobook!!!! Also the physical book because formatting and illustrations, but the audiobook!!! Tanya Tagaq is an Inuit throat singer, and this novel is a genre blending of 20 years worth of the authors journal entries, poetry, and short stories, that culminates in a truly unique story about a young girl surviving her teenage years in a small tundra town in the 70s. It is sad and beautiful and hard but an experience like nothing else I read this year.

#the only good indians #my heart is a chainsaw #stephen graham jones #moon of the crusted snow #waubgeshig rice #elatsoe #darcie little badger #split tooth #tanya tagaq #indigenous authors #2022 reads #book recs #books #booklr

[avelera]

I know that the Gaiman "word of God" on Dream of the Endless's romantic history is, "He has had many more lovers than the ones we see" with regards to Killalla, Alianora, Nada, Calliope, and Thessaly (ugh) and as someone who will absolutely incorporate word-of-god canon , it's the height of hypocrisy to just dismiss this.

And I will accept that probably Dream has had some sexual encounters outside those five canonical relationships, like the implied Lucifer and Titania flings.

But I just can't escape the sense that the whole, "Oh yeah, he's had tons of other lovers like, just loads of them, believe me, the dude is definitely not billions of years old and only had a half dozen romantic encounters all of which ended in tears, that would be crazy, right??" is just more... something a dude would say about their super cool dude character?

Because I personally like to, in this one instance, rigidly stick to canon as we see it on the page. And that canon is: Dream was deeply lonely and never even officially hit a half-dozen long-term lovers in his life and he only married once. He is a divorcee and he is sad and he is lonely and he would love to find someone to be with and be in a relationship and just continuously eluded him. And our evidence for this? The Wake.

We have some of Dream's past lovers show up at the Wake. Bastet specifically notes that they could have been lovers, probably should have been, but it never happened. Titania implies a relationship but won't say anything more and obviously it was not long-lasting romantically speaking, whatever it was.

But basically, if we take the Wake as an on-the-page canonical account of the living beings who were Dream's lovers and who had enough of a connection to actually show up, it's still a depressingly small number for so long a life, for a character who is defined by his romanticism and loneliness. Even if we say, give or take, there might have been a few more, none of those after Nada could be mortal, so we can't just say they're all dead. That means the other immortal lovers either didn't show up or didn't bother to speak. And sure, if there's other immortals in the mix, sure, we could "Doylist" say the comic just doesn't have room for them all but really, to me, the more compelling take is... there just weren't that many for Dream, and that it's deeply sad. Some of it was, yes, his own fault, probably a lot of it. But it's still sad.

And more importantly, it's a more interesting character. Anyone can say their stupidly powerful godlike character who is beautiful and magical and can craft dreams and stories and is this Byronic hero of poetry and darkness is also someone who had a bunch of romantic partners and can definitely hook up with anyone he wants, psshh, obviously but... a character who is all those things and can't get this one major part of their life together to the extent that he's demonstrated to want a loving partner which he is repeatedly shown to want, is just... it's a certain kind of unique for that character and I'm here for it.

#the sandman #sandman meta #dream of the endless #and this is why i ship him with Hob as a soulmate lol #because I'm also a romantic #and I like to believe there is someone out there for him in the most unlikely of places #and by unlikely I mean MOST LIKELY OF PLACES Dream he's YOUR BEST FRIEND #WHAT DO YOU THINK A RELATIONSHIP IS?? EXCEPT A PERSON YOU LIKE TO SPEND TIME WITH THE MOST?? #anyway Dream upsets me lol look at his life look at his choices I want to hit him with a baguette

[s-aint-elmo]

digging out the eah content i created in a frenzy during last year’s summer of obsession part 1: my personal sapphic multishipping guide (created to explain to my friends which of these dolls i think should hold hands)

(more in-depth discussion of the ships below the cut)

the polycule that will take over ever after

kitty/lizzie; kitty/maddie; maddie/lizzie

self-explanatory. frequently purchased together do not separate. bonus shoutout to maddie canonically giving kitty a little kissie on the cheek and getting off scot-free in the books though. a wonderlandiful world was a banquet to me

cedar protection squad

once again a wonderlandiful world and once upon a time i owe you my life. kitty ESP being so adamant abt not giving a shit then turning around and fucking up those boys who were mean to cedar...... i love friendship

kitty/cerise

also self-explanatory. she was a catgirl she was a wolfgirl can i make it anymore obvious. also doribuki’s phenomenal fake dating fanfic....... transformative foundational transcendental

cerise/raven

YOU MUST UNDERSTAND. i entered eah a rapple shipper and exited the book series ready to burn at the stake for cerise/raven. book two was SO MUCH. it had everything. raven befriending cerise despite her attempts to isolate herself. texting in class. winking at each other. raven meeting the parents and hearing embarrassing baby cerise stories. cerise putting it all on the line to save raven. i’m ambivalent about shadow high but cerise gets literally one (1) mention and it’s in raven’s internal monologue wherein she equates cerise’s hood w feelings of warmth and safety. like how was that in any way necessary. i rest my case 

raven & maddie

self-explanatory as well. dabesties. the ride or dies. it means so much to me that raven always has a friend in maddie no matter how many clowns and jokers (derogatory) treat her like the antichrist. maddie the character ever

raven/apple

WHAT IT SAYS ON THE TIN. the gelphie dynamic is a classic and i am EXTREMELY vulnerable to it. they are THE ship and i will pay my respects to the end of time. i am a big fan of how they trade their roles throughout the franchise and how rich the drama and history are between them. it’s pure fucking poetry.

raven/darling

TBH. a serve. the only thing juicier than evil queen/damsel in distress is evil queen/princess charming. big big fan of darling giving raven the five star princess treatment after a lifetime of being feared and shunned and vilified. equally big fan of raven’s momentous act of rebellion giving darling the courage to be true to herself. ALSO. the absolute archetype-subversion slay of the Pure-Hearted Hero(TM) confronting the Mistress of Evil(TM) and dropping their sword. looking through the smoke and mirrors and the will of Fate itself to see the girl who has wanted nothing but to be kind beneath. swearing their heart and soul and sword to the one true good they have found. picture it. i can almost see the 100-word drabble

raven/apple/darling

now THIS is just THE fairytale couple. the evil queen, the damsel in distress and the princess charming ALL holding hands and riding off into the sunset together. dappling on its own doesn’t do it for me but raven in the mix just makes everything gel perfectly. she’s the tomato in the ratatouille the cornstarch in the spring roll water, etc etc

darling/holly

this is one of those ships where i read a really convincing fic and the more i thought of it the more it just made sense. like they'd read swashbucklers and tales of courtly love together. holly would 100% write a darling placeholder in her self-insert romance fanfic pre-relationship as a way to express her feelings. darling would 100% find out and gently pull her out of the pit of sheer mortification she drilled into the ground to escape. also the height difference is a thing of beauty

safe from the polycule

duchess/poppy

they have one singular episode to their name and it was enough. it was Everything. the dynamic you can extrapolate from that one single interaction is so incredibly appealing to me. duchess’s bitchiness belied by her palpable air of vulnerability coming up against poppy’s spine of steel tempered by her skill in gaining perspective. poppy can challenge duchess into being a better person and duchess can be poppy’s character flaw like idk she just has shit taste in women that was the price she had to pay to be moisturized and unbothered by destiny. i just think they have the potential to be the unexpected, inexplicable power couple of eah

briar/faybelle

do i even need to say anything they had a whole movie to make their case. they’re rapple if rapple got their shit together before armageddon, with the bonus of a potential curse-breaking true love’s kiss for the fanfic authors to thrash between their teeth. truly unlimited. also unlike rapple where raven is 100% against being a villain and therefore it’s apple who has to do the mental gymnastics to open herself to the possibility of a relationship w raven, faybelle is just chomping at the bit to make her momma proud and presents a compelling perspective for the whole “falling in love w your fated nemesis” thing

blondie/cupid

they are icons, they are legends, and they ARE the moment. these two are so chaotic individually, what with blondie’s criminal skillset and habit of menacing innocent woodland creatures and cupid’s matchmaking powers combined w her shitty aim, that putting them together can only mean good things. there’s this whole element of their shared passion as public figures who at their best seek the truth and guide others through matters of the heart respectively that’s always interesting as a point of irony/obstacle when they start catching feelings and have to decide what to do with them. their joint youtuber/podcaster slay can level nations

#ever after high #mine #am i strong enough to tag them all #kitty cheshire #lizzie hearts #maddie hatter #cerise hood #raven queen #apple white #darling charming #holly o'hair #duchess swan #poppy o'hair #briar beauty #faybelle thorn #blondie lockes #c.a. cupid #that supernatural vlogger/actual god clondie au that was never finished still lives rent free in my head btw. i nurse my grief over it #like a baby: regularly while sighing over the future that could be #cupid and raven should also hold hands but not in this polycule universe

[lipglossanon]

Winter’s Knight

vampire!Leon S. Kennedy x fem!reader

inspired by Leon’s romantic look 😌 and the song Dracula’s Wedding by OutKast 💜 also the poetry mentioned is from Emily Dickinson; there’s also one line plucked from Dracula

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, biting/marking, fated pair, strangers to lovers, blood, blood kink, scent kink, dirty talk, oral (f receiving), OC friend of reader named Lara just in case that throws anyone off, unprotected sex, creampie

title from Winter’s Knight album by Nox Arcana

Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays!! 💜 😘

“It’s an opportunity of a lifetime,” you mimic in a high tone before rolling your eyes, “opportunity my ass.”

Your friend Lara convinced you to go on this holiday trip with her, all expenses paid, as she wanted the company. The boyfriend that was originally going to be accompanying her had been dumped the week prior. Cheaters never win had been Lara’s flippant reply when asked. 

It felt like it happened overnight and before you knew it, Lara had whisked you away to three different countries one of which being the current visit in question. You think you’re in Romania or maybe Estonia; you’re a little mixed up as your plans had changed mid train ride. 

Lara’s family had some connections in the area and so you were both staying in a rather posh old castle turned tourist destination. 

A very lovely place except now you were completely turned around when all you wanted was to get a bottle of water from the concierge and go back to bed. Your footsteps have slowed considerably as you take in the magnificent gothic architecture and the beautiful paintings ranging from landscapes to some strange brooding man encapsulated in shadows; you’re never fully able to make out what he looks like, too much shadow blanking his features. 

You find yourself at a dead end, ornate furniture filling the space with a singular painting taking up the entire wall. It literally takes your breath away. It must be the place you’re staying in, the front gate still looks the same from what you can tell; it’s this castle seated on a rocky cliff face overlooking the villa down below. Your hand reaches out to touch, but you hover over the gilded frame before dropping it back to your side. 

“Lovely, no?”

A smooth, low voice has you spinning around, a thrill of fear humming in your chest. 

A man stands to the side, a little further down the hall. He’s tall, slim waisted with broad shoulders that stick out to you, even being shrouded in the dim lighting like he is; his eyes shine like an animal’s before you blink and it’s gone. 

That small niggling of fear in your brain is getting louder as he moves closer, making no sound in his sharp dress shoes. 

He keeps his eyes locked on the painting as he stops next to you.

“Quite an ancient castle,” he murmurs, almost too low for you to hear. 

When he finally turns to face you, you almost gasp. He’s beautiful, almost ethereal with his snowy white hair and fair complexion; both make the blue of his eyes almost glacial. 

He smiles sardonically, “Lost?”

You squint your eyes at him, lips pursing in suspicion, “You could say that.”

He grins and his teeth glint sharply before he turns, holding his arm out for you. 

“I can guide you back to your room, miss?”

You smile sarcastically as you step up alongside him, completely ignoring the proffered arm, “Miss is just fine, sir.”

His eyes flick from the end of the hallway to you and he hums in amusement, “Well miss, shall I lead the way?”

“Oh, please do,” you simper and this earns a low chuckle from the handsome stranger, making your heartbeat flutter at the sound. 

He guides you back to the foyer and up the grand staircase, pointing out paintings or furniture that have some kind of significance to the castle. Pausing in front of an oil painting not far from your room, he falls into a sort of melancholy. 

“This was one of the ladies of the castle,” he finally pulls back, turning without looking back at you, “I’m sure you can find the rest of your way, miss.”

You startle, not realizing he was just going to dip out now. 

“Hey!”

He pauses, half turning so you can see the profile of his straight nose and sharp cheekbone.

“Thanks, mister?” You trail off, hand fluttering in the air as you gesture. 

He fully turns to smile at you, “Mister is just fine, thanks.”

You can’t stop the laugh that bubbles out of your chest, missing the way he lights up at the sound, eyes cataloging you far more closely than before. 

“Well, thanks Mister,” you shake your head, smile still stretched across your face, “maybe I’ll see you around then.”

“Maybe,” he murmurs, bowing to you at the waist, “goodnight, Miss.”

“Goodnight,” you tilt your head and wave your hand.

Laughing to yourself, you turn and head further down the hall and into your room.  He watches you until the door clicks shut and he turns back to leave. Pausing in front of the painting once more, he brushes a thumb across the placard on the bottom. 

“She feels like the one, hmm?” He murmurs to the half smiling woman, “now that she’s here, I don’t know if I can do it.”

A door snapping shut from further down the hall has him pulling away from the painting and slipping off into the night. 

You run into the strange gentleman again in the castle gardens situated just to the side of the towering edifice. Since Lara’s pacing in her room trying to figure out what went wrong with your travel plans, you decided to go for a walk instead of sitting around doing nothing.

You’re looking at one of the dead withered trees off to the side, debating if sitting on the bench here is safe from any falling branches when that low smoky tone speaks behind you. 

“There’s a certain slant of light, On winter afternoons, that oppresses, like the heft of cathedral tunes.”

You squash your urge to jump in place and spin around to face him. He’s no less devastatingly pretty in the weak winter sunlight. 

“Good afternoon to you, too,” you smile, enjoying the weirdness he exudes, “and what a conversation starter, might I add.”

He meets your smile with his own little grin, “Somber poetry for a somber day.”

You giggle, “Guess so.”

He gestures and you sit on the bench as he takes a seat next to you. 

“Here on vacation?” You kick at a loose rock with your booted foot.

“You could say I’m here for leisure,” he muses, blue eyes taking in every nuance of you. 

You tilt your head to look at him, “Oh I could, huh?”

Laughing, you straighten up, hands fiddling with the clasp on your jacket, “Well, I’m also here for leisure. Even though it’s kind of an accident.”

He raises an eyebrow and you continue, “It was a mix up and we ended up here. A vacation, just not in the right place.”

“How fortunate am I,” he smirks and you feel heat blaze in your chest, eyes dropping to look down at your jacket. 

You tug on the zipper, catching your finger in the teeth with a hiss. It snags a bit of skin as you jerk it free, blood beading on your fingertip.

His features are serious as he takes your hand in his, “You must see to it so it doesn’t become infected.”

You nod, touched at his concern, “I have some alcohol swabs and bandaids up in my room.”

He brings your hand closer and you get the wild idea he means to suck your finger into his mouth, but he only kisses the back of your hand as he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket, a light gray fabric that looks like it costs more than your entire wardrobe. You catch his initials, L.S.K., monogrammed in black on the edge. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, feeling flushed in the cool afternoon air as you clasp the handkerchief to your finger. 

“My pleasure. Shall I escort you back to your room, miss?”

Lips parting, you take in his pinched features as he stares at your hand before nodding again, “Yes, please.”

His eyes snap up and he smiles, relief spreading across his face, “Good, good.”

Once you’re both standing, he snags your elbow with his fingers and gently guides you along. Since he’s much closer than before and you’re not sniffling from the cold air, you catch a strong smell of cedar and cloves that nearly makes you swoon. 

“Are you okay?” He stops, grip firming up on your bicep to tug you closer making the smell even stronger. 

“‘m okay,” you murmur, eyes drooping as you slump against his chest, “just smell good.”

You feel him laugh and the low baritone makes your cunt throb so hard you whine into his jacket. 

“Maybe moving from the cold into the warmth has made you dizzy,” he says kindly, “come, let me help you to your room.”

Completely unsure as to what’s happening to you, you let him lead you back to your room. Your legs don’t seem to want to move the way you want to and the more you breathe in whatever cologne he’s wearing, the more slick drips from your pussy into the gusset of your panties to the point you’re soaked between your thighs. 

He murmurs low platitudes in your ear that just makes everything better worse, so by the time you make it back to your room and he eases you down into your bed, you’re asking him to stay. 

“No. You’ll thank me later,” he soothes, pulling off your winter boots and tucking you under the covers. 

“Please,” tears prick your waterline, emotions and hormones all over the place. 

His lips thin and he runs a hand through his white hair, strands ruffled when he clasps your hands together, “Just close your eyes. I’ll stay here.”

Dropping to the floor, he kneels alongside your bed, keeping your hands together. Struggling to keep your eyes open, you just know he won’t be there when you wake up and some part of you hates that idea. 

“Didn’t think it would affect you like this,” he murmurs as you drift off. 

With a small shift, he moves forward and pulls the pricked finger into his mouth. His hot tongue lashing against the digit is the last thing your mind holds onto before it slips away like sand in the tide. 

When you come to, it’s dark outside and Lara is shaking your shoulder. 

“Finally,” she huffs, brows pinched, “thought I was gonna have to take you to a doctor or something. You good?”

You squint at her but can’t remember anything but the stranger you met helping you back inside from the cold. The rest is a cloudy blank in your mind. 

“Yeah, just tired I guess,” you raise up, pushing the blankets away to swing your feet out of bed, “what’s up?” 

As you shift, you notice a small square cloth and a bolt of memory, of sitting on the bench with that man, makes your eyes widen. You pick up the handkerchief and tuck it into your pocket. 

She smiles weakly, “Kinda stuck here a few more days then we’ll just fly back home in time for Christmas.”

You frown, an uncomfortable sadness pinging in your chest, “Oh? That’s fine. I like it here, so it’s not like it’s a hardship.”

Lara laughs, “Maybe for you. I’m ready to be somewhere that has pizza delivery.”

You grin, “Fair enough,” you push her shoulder, “well, when do we plan on leaving?”

“Two days is what my travel agent says,” she looks down at her phone, “that was the nearest opening since it’s the busy season and plus a storm is coming in tonight.”

“Ahh,” you nod along, “plenty of time to sightsee then.”

She giggles at your teasing and stands up from the bed, “I just wanted to let you know. It’s kinda late but the kitchen’s still open if you wanna grab something. I’m honestly exhausted from being on the phone all day so I’m gonna crash.”

“Hang on!”

You throw on some shoes and meet her at the door, “I’ll walk you to your room and head down to grab some food. You sure you don’t want anything?”

“Nah,” she shakes her head, “I had something earlier since I thought you’d eaten. You sure you’re feeling okay, though?”

“Mmhmm,” you smile, pausing outside her door, “promise.”

She returns your smile, “Okay, goodnight then.”

“Night!”

The door snaps shut behind you as you walk away, heading to the staircase and down to the restaurant. You take your time, stopping to look at various paintings on the way down, even pausing in front of a suit of armor to peer into the empty helm. 

“Expecting a skeleton?”

You jump backwards, nearly tripping as you stumble into the firm chest behind you. 

Righting yourself, you feel hot all over in embarrassment as you meet your strange acquaintance for the second time today. 

“U-uh, hi,” you feel jittery with nerves, like a new crush, “thank you for today by the way. I don’t know how I got into my room, but I’m guessing you helped?”

His brows raise in surprise, but it’s quickly replaced by a warm smile that makes butterflies flutter in your chest, “Yes, you weren’t feeling well. Dizzy from the temperature change.”

You take a half step back, leaving more distance between you two. 

“Well, thank you,” you clear your throat, “uh, I was going down for a late dinner, do you want to join me?”

A sly grin crosses his features making you nervous, “I’d be delighted although I’ve already.. eaten this evening.”

“O-oh okay,” you stumble over your words as you turn to walk down the stairs, “anything you’d recommend?”

A sharp bark of laughter escapes him as he walks alongside you, “No, nothing I’d recommend. Although I’ve heard their special today is excellent.”

Surprised at his outburst, your brows furrow as you smile in confusion, “If you say so.”

You lapse into a comfortable silence as you both make the walk to the dining room. There’s just something about him that draws you in like a moth to a flame. At first you just thought it was his strange mannerisms, but in the short span of time that you’ve spent together you just feel connected on some hidden level that you’ve only just discovered. 

Dinner is a quiet affair; the strange man, who you still don’t know the name of, joins you for your meal. He makes small talk about the local area in which he’s well informed about, no surprise. After you’ve finished your meal, he offers to take you out for an after dinner stroll around the castle before bed. 

Not wanting to leave his company just yet, you readily agree and let him lead you around the place. It’s as he’s guiding you down a long L shaped hallway filled with more paintings that a chill runs down your spine and he freezes in place, half turning to shield you from the person who seems to materialize in front of you two. 

“Hello, Leon,” a silky voice purrs as a beautiful woman steps into view. 

She’s beautiful and ethereal in a way that’s almost terrifying, much like the mysterious gentleman half blocking your view; Leon she called him. 

“What a lovely surprise,” she steps closer, form appearing to ripple in the dappled moonlight streaming from the windows. 

“Ada, how can I be of service?” His polite tone’s cold and to the point, even as he pushes you further behind him. 

“Aww, don’t be like that,” she lilts, voice playful and coaxing, “I’ve already seen your pretty playmate. Is she a new friend?”

You blink and the dark haired woman is standing next to you, Leon twisting uncomfortably to turn around. 

She twirls a strand of your hair with a manicured nail, “I won’t bite. Unless she asks,” she winks at you and your eyes widen in surprise.

“She’s new, yes. A visitor,” Leon’s hand reaches out to grasp your hip, tugging you into his side, “so don’t play games.”

“Games?” She laughs, eyes bright, “are you still sore that I stole Claire away?” she pouts at him, “she wasn’t your one, so why are you still upset?”

You watch all of this with rapt attention and so much confusion. 

He scowls at her, eyes darkening as he straightens his stance, “It doesn’t matter if she was the right one or not, you stole her away from me.”

She laughs outright at that, side stepping away from you and closer to him, “Can’t steal someone if they want to be taken, right, Leon?”

He deflates a little, gaze flitting to you and back to her, “What do you want now?”

“To bother you,” she smiles over at you and you notice her incisors are longer than normal, “since I’m just passing through, thought I would say hello to an old friend.”

They stare at each other for a beat longer than what’s comfortable before she sighs melodramatically. 

“As much as I would love to stay, and believe me I want to so very badly,” she blows a kiss at Leon as she walks backwards to the far end of the gallery, “I do have unfinished business nearby that I must take care of. Ciao!”

It’s so quiet after she leaves that the ringing in your ears sounds abnormally loud. 

Leon clears his throat and gives you an apologetic smile, “I’m very sorry about all of that.”

You wave your hands, “No worries. It’s not really my business, y’know.”

He winces at that and you scrunch your nose, internally cringing at yourself. It’s a somber feeling as he quietly leads you back to your room. 

Pausing at the threshold, you reach out and snag the sleeve of his shirt. 

“Hey,” you murmur, dropping your gaze to the fabric you’ve pinched between your fingers, “you wanna meet up tomorrow?”

He frowns although you don’t see it and slowly tugs his arm loose, “I don’t know.”

Whatever feeling that has been building in your chest feels like a punctured balloon at his flippant tone. 

“Oh,” you drop his shirt like it burns, willing the tears away at least until you can shut the door, “I-I didn’t mean to— nevermind. Kinda silly of me. Hopefully I’ll see you before we leave.”

His fingers circle around your wrist tightly, holding you in place, “You’re leaving?”

You level him with a flat stare, “Of course. We’re only here for a couple more days. So if you’ll excuse—“

He presses forward, pushing you through the doorway to follow after, letting the door swing shut behind you both. 

“Let go of me,” you twist your arm but Leon doesn’t budge. 

A concentrated look arrests his features, blue eyes skimming down your body and back up to your face. 

“Leon,” you bite out sharply, making him draw up short, “that’s your name, right?”

“Yes,” his eyes look wild as he lets go of your wrist to grasp both of your hands with his own, “yes, my name is Leon. Leon Kennedy. I’m sorry, this isn’t quite how I wanted things to go.”

You finally pull your arm away, “I’d like it if you left. I’m really confused and you’re acting strange.”

He looks at you so sadly it makes your chest hurt, “Can I show you something? I’ll leave you alone after that if that's what you’d like.”

Pursing your lips, you squint at him until you finally nod, “Alright.”

His shoulders sag and he walks back over to the door. Holding it open, he waits until you cross the threshold before stepping back in front of you. You make the short walk to the painting down the hall from your door when Leon pauses. 

You look at the painting then to his serious face with raised brows.

“You’re showing me this again?” Confusion colors your tone, “am I missing something?”

“Have you read the name underneath?”

Shaking your head no, you step forward to read the small gold plate underneath. 

“Claire Kennedy née Redfield,” you murmur to yourself. 

Claire? That mysterious woman mentioned her name earlier. The one Leon said she stole away. The correlation is there but you feel like you’re missing a huge part of the puzzle to actually end up at the correct explanation. 

You turn to Leon, “So is this the Claire you were talking about?”

He nods, eyes heavy and sad as he flits his gaze between you and the painting, “Yes. It was a political marriage. We were friends before everything happened.”

“Ookay,” you frown again, “so she ran off with her girlfriend?”

He flinches at that, “My other wife.”

You feel floored, “Wait, what?!”

Rubbing your forehead, you’re getting a pain behind your left eye from trying to parse it all together. 

“So, your new wife ran off with your then current wife? Am I getting that right? How long ago was this, Leon?”

He gestures a little wildly at the plaque, “You didn’t see the year?”

Squinting, you lean forward and can make out circa 1849. 

“Fuck off,” you blurt out, leaning back and taking a half step away, “what kinda joke is this?”

“I wait my whole life to bite the right one,” he mutters to himself, hand raking through his parted hair, “that’s not to say I didn’t mess up a couple of times before.”

You take another step back, away from Leon, “What do you mean?”

His eyes snap over to you and you freeze in place. Everything about him seems to be amplified to ten now, he’s exuding an energy that makes the hair on your arms stand up. 

“You’re the one,” he steps up until he’s in your personal space, “Ada and Claire were accidents. I didn’t realize that there’s only one compatible partner for me.”  

“Compatible partner?” voice pitching high, “you sound crazy right now.”

His brows lower, “You feel it too, little miss. It’s why you passed out earlier. Blood calls to blood.”

You’re hit with a wall of need so crippling your legs give out making you come down hard on your knees. 

“I’ve been shielding you,” he murmurs, kneeling in front of you, hands reaching out to brush across your jaw and neck, “it’s a lot to take in, I know.”

Gasping in deep breaths, you’re overwhelmed with the scent of cedar and cloves from earlier. You don’t know how you forgot that smell but now it’s all you can concentrate on; your head goes fuzzy as arousal sweeps through your body. 

“What is this?” you slur, eyes hazy as you slump forward into Leon’s shoulder, “what did you do t’me?”

“Nothing,” he soothes, petting down your back, “it’s just the effect of the compatibility. I can’t explain it; I just instinctively know it’s right.”

Reaching out, your hands weakly clasp at his shirt, “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay,” he coos, “let me take you to my room.”

Not able to argue against him, he easily lifts you into a bridal carry. He uses one hand to block your eyes and you feel cold wind before he removes his palm and you see you’re in a room three times the size of your own. Leon eases you down onto an absurdly luxurious bed, sheer drapes lost to the shadows of the ceiling. 

Once he steps away, leaving a sizable gap between you both, the dizziness subsides and your thoughts aren’t as fleeting. 

“What the fuck?” you whisper, hands shakily brushing wisps of your hair back from your face, “what the ever loving fuck? Am I losing my mind?”

Your eyes quickly dart around, taking in the opulate furnishings and huge windows overlooking the cliff side, showcasing you now must be on the upper level of the castle. Your gaze lands on a time worn painting off to the side of Leon and his first wife, the dark haired beauty he called Ada. Next to it is another portrait of his second wife, Claire, yet another beautiful woman with red hair. 

Leon’s hands ball into fists at his sides as he takes in a deep breath, “It’s not as bad as it seems.”

“Leon, what’s going on?” Your voice breaks, mind struggling to keep up with what’s happening to you. 

“My first wife,” he points to the older portrait, “we were human at the time.”

“At the time?” You squeak out.

He hums, eyes flashing in the low light, “Yes. Then the change occurred to me after getting lost on a hunting trip. When I returned, I offered it to her but she refused,” he tilts his head up and shields his eyes with a hand, “and I made her like me anyways. She was my wife. Our vows were to be together in sickness and in health. She didn’t see it that way.”

You watch as he shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, stepping to the portrait with his fingers outstretched but never outright touching the canvas. 

“She said it was til death do us part but I thought she was my one,” he sighs sorrowfully, “so I changed her and she loathed me. She eventually left one night never to come back. I didn’t chase after her, resigned to her resentment. I didn’t hear from her for hundreds of years. Then Claire came along.”

Your eyes jump from Ada to the smiling redhead in the other portrait. 

“Her brother needed her to marry someone with an upstanding background; someone with title and lands to trade,” he smiles bitterly at you, “I posed as my own great great nephew and set up the marriage. We became friends through our letters and when we wed it was wonderful. I kept what I was from her for as long as possible.”

He steps over to you and you flinch making his eyes droop in pain. 

“She figured it out quickly, such a smart woman,” he smiles crookedly, “I loved her dearly, but she wasn’t enough either. I changed her thinking that this is it, but it wasn’t. She wasn’t the one either. Ada came soon after and easily whisked her away from me.”

He sighs forlornly. Your lips part but you change your mind and refrain from saying anything. 

“Claire’s brother even convinced Ada to change him so he could defend her honor against me,” he blows out a short breath, “letting you know in case he shows up to be the gallant hero.”

“Leon,” you murmur, at a complete loss for words. 

“We all understand each other now and they’re happy where they are,” he laughs derisively at himself, “and I’ve lived alone here, running this place through a shell company hoping against hope for just one more chance.”

“This is insane,” you finally say to him, “you’re telling me you’re a vampire and I’m beholden to you? And on top of that you practically have a coven. This is impossible.”

“But you feel the pull, too,” his voice dips into that low smoky tenor, “you’re the one. You are to be my new bride.”

Your laugh startles you both, but you can’t stop the manic giggles once they start. Once the mania seems to pass and with it your hysterical laughter, you finally get yourself under control and clear your throat. 

“Prove it,” you tell him seriously, heart beating so fast your sure he can hear it, “let me see this vampire side of yours and if I believe you, if you convince me, then I’ll be your bride.”

His smile lights up his whole face making your breath catch.

“That’s easily done.”

He stands directly in front of you and that strange energy fills the room; you watch in complete astonishment as he looks like he dissolves until there’s only mist floating in the air. It drifts languidly past you and you feel the bed dip with body weight. 

His hot breath caresses your ear, “Is that enough, little bride?”

A full body shudder hits you as he kisses across your neck, the sharp prick of fangs dragging across your skin. 

“Let me bite you,” he whispers sweetly, “let me show you how deep our bond truly is.”

Feeling completely off centered, you breathe out one word without thinking, going with only what feels right.

“Yes.”

His teeth sink into the side of your neck and you cum, slick filling your panties until you’re sure it’s dripping down your thighs. It feels like a typhoon of emotions rains down through your body, pleasure so strong your eyes sting; then, it’s swept through to be quickly replaced by a feeling of home so deeply connected to the man behind you you could openly weep. It’s like a puzzle piece slotting into place somewhere in your chest. 

Moaning, your hands scratch at the bedding and he hums against your skin. Pulling away with a low groan, he runs his tongue over the puncture marks. 

“So good,” he mouths against your jaw, “let me mark you again.”

Whimpering, you lean back against him as he sinks his teeth into a new spot, softly sucking blood from the wound. His hands slip around your waist to pull you into the V of his thighs. You choke out a whine as your cunt throbs, on the verge of another orgasm and he hasn’t even touched you intimately aside from his teeth in your neck. 

“Leon,” you keen, one hand reaching over your head to tangle in his soft, snowy hair.

Chillbumps race down your body when he finally pulls away to place a soft kiss on the bite. He sucks at the tender skin making you mewl longingly until he pulls away with a sigh. 

“Let me taste that sweet little pussy,” he purrs in your ear, “I have been dreaming of biting your thighs and kissing your cunt til you can’t take anymore.”

Tugging his hair harder, you whimper and nod your head, “Please, Leon.”

The scent of cedar comes across stronger as he kisses your neck one last time before shifting you both until you’re laying back on his bed. He strokes his hands all down your body, eyes drinking in your expressions.

“You’ve been driving me crazy this entire time,” he slowly undresses you, scraping his sharp incisors against the skin he reveals, “smell so good, so sweet. Makes my mouth water.”

You whimper while watching as he unbuttons your jeans and works them and your panties off of your legs. He groans to see the slick mess between your thighs, cunt glistening with your arousal. 

“Look at you,” he breathes out, blown out pupils flicking up to your own dazed eyes. 

Wasting no time, he lays down between your spread legs and kisses the top of your pussy, ignoring where you most want his mouth. He drags his lips down and then buries his face in your cunt, spreading your lips apart with his tongue as he licks all over your pussy. Grunting, he shoves his tongue into your hole to spear you open on the thick muscle. 

“Leon,” you whisper down to him, feeling so turned on you can’t think straight. 

He groans and pulls back, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

With a sigh, you relax against the sheets only to jolt as your pussy throbs when he bites you at the crease where your cunt meets your thigh. 

Crying out softly, your head thrashes against his bed as he repeats it on the other side. 

“I know, but bear with me,” he murmurs, blood coating his mouth as he lovingly kisses the puncture wounds, “doing so well.”

You splay back out against his sheets as he buries his face between your thighs again. He keeps your legs spread as he slowly kisses and sucks at your cunt, like he’s never tasted anything better in his life. Everything’s sensitive and on the verge of too much, but you wouldn’t dream of asking him to stop. That slow syrupy pleasure that’s made your thoughts honey thick is more than welcome. 

He laps along the seam of your pussy lips until he glides the tip of his tongue up to the hood of your clit. Leon circles the pudgy bud all slow and soft, tongue dipping down to flutter inside your soaked hole. Groaning at the slick flooding his mouth, he laps at your cunt with long broad strokes of his tongue. He pulls back to suck on your pussy lips before kissing across to your thigh and sinking those sharp fangs into your supple skin. 

Your back arches, a low whine spilling from your kiss bitten lips. He kisses and sucks the bitemark until it's ugly and irritated, then drags his lips back to your cunt, kissing your mound softly.  He makes out with your pussy with hot and bloody open mouthed kisses, spit drenching your swollen clit as you moan loudly. 

Your orgasm builds higher and higher until it’s a tight band ready to snap in your lower belly. Leon senses you getting closer from your body spasming and your voice gaining in volume as he greedily eats your cunt, hungry eyes watching you from between your legs. 

With a low keening groan rumbling from deep in his chest, he sinks his fangs into your fat pussy lips as he fucks his tongue into your clenching hole. That pinprick of pain flooded by intense pleasure is enough to push you completely over the edge. Wailing, your spine bows as your climax floods through your body, cunt pulsing and gushing slick as your toes curl in the sheets. 

Almost growling into your pussy, Leon flutters his tongue into your hole, lapping up all the slick dripping from your cunt, tongue loudly squelching in and out of your clenching walls. 

He finally pulls away with a low moan of pleasure, lower jaw coated with slick and blood. 

“So good for me, little bride,” he slinks up your body, joints moving unnaturally but you're hardly able to think past the pleasure buzzing in your brain, “going to make you mine, keep you forever.”

 Humming, you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull him down into the messiest kiss of the night. He almost snarls into your kisses as he gets rougher, tongue and teeth dominating your mouth, a bruising pressure on your lips. 

“Promise me you’ll stay,” he demands, eyes flashing at you as he presses you down harder into the mattress, “stay with me, be mine.”

You softly brush back his hair, voice soothing as you reply, “I promise, Leon. I’m all yours. I’ll be your new bride.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck before sinking those deliciously sharp teeth into you again. Weakly moaning, your eyes roll back as your clit throbs in time with your heartbeat. You feel him shudder when he pulls away to kiss the sluggishly bleeding marks.

“My bride,” he sighs, dragging his pouty lips across your jaw, nose tracing your skin, “you promise to give me all that you are.. all that you will be.”

“Promise,” you gasp out as his hand sneaks down to tease across your clit, cunt soaking the sheets further with fresh slick, “promise, Leon.”

He kisses you then, the hot copper tang of blood flavoring his sweet sentiment. You’re swept under another tide of arousal from his messy lips and tongue while his fingers play with your pudgy clit. 

He shifts until he’s next to you, blood smeared mouth parted as his eyes trail down your body. Gripping your hip, he helps turn your body to face him, leaving you both lying on your sides. Your hands reach out to trail down his chest just now noticing that he’s still dressed.

“No fair,” you tease, tugging on the silky  material.

He laughs softly, bringing your hand up to kiss your inner wrist before scraping his fangs across the sensitive skin making you shiver. Letting go of your hand, he quickly undresses, dropping his clothes off the side of the bed in a heap. You bite your lip, taking in the long lean lines of his body, eyes widening to see his thick cock filled out and resting against his thigh. 

“Leon,” you breathe out, wide eyes tracking back up to his pale blue ones. 

This time your hands lightly scratch along his pecs to his twitching abdominal muscles, nails barely scratch the soft thatch of hair above his hard cock. 

“You can touch me, liebling,” his lips quirk up into a half smile, “I only bite a little.”

A giggle slips out and your hand grasps the base of his dick and squeezes earning a low groan from the handsome man next to you. 

“Stroke me, tease me, do whatever you wish,” he murmurs, hands coming up to cup your breasts, “I’ll enjoy it all.”

You whimper as his long fingers dig into the soft flesh of your breasts, thumbs rubbing circles across your stiff nipples.

While one of your hands teases the head of his dick, you slide the other one to cup his balls making his cock kick, blurting precum onto your fingers.

“It’s so sticky,” you murmur unthinkingly, smearing the precum around his tip making it slippery for your fingers to rub across. 

He groans loudly, bucking his hips and sliding his cock through your fingers in a clumsy effort to fuck your loose fist. 

“And these are so sensitive,” his low tone razes goosebumps as he tweaks and pinches your nipples until you’re rubbing your thighs together. 

“Leon,” you moan, arching your back to press your breasts more firmly into his hands. 

“I haven’t had a chance to taste these,” he purrs, ducking his head to nip your chest.

“Please,” you tighten your hand around his cock and pump your fist, “bite me.”

He presses closer against you, hands pushing your breasts up as he dips his head down. Kissing the stiff peak, he licks around the puckered skin close to your nipple. 

“Smell so good,” he mumbles, kissing your nipple softly before sucking it into his mouth. 

He rolls his tongue around the hard bud before pulling away with a soft pop. He drags his lips down to suck on the skin underneath your breast before opening his mouth and biting deep into the tender flesh. 

“Oh god,” you cry out, body writhing so much Leon has to use one hand to grip your ribcage tightly to keep you still. 

You're too out of it to jerk him off, hands instead moving to grab onto his hips. He pulls away with a gasp only to sink his bloody teeth into the soft fat of your other breast. Your cunt is a drippy mess by the time he pulls away the second time, tongue sucking the blood off his fangs as his eyes seem to shine with unnatural light. 

“The finest of wines,” he smiles at you, licking his lips slowly. 

Your cunt throbs and aches, walls fluttering around nothing—feeling empty and needy. 

“Leon,” you grab his hand and guide it to your soaked cunt, “please, I want you.”

“Oh my beautiful bride, so wet and ready for me,” he hisses, easily sinking two fingers knuckle deep into your clenching pussy.

Your hands move from his hips to dig into his shoulders making him grind his fingers deeper into your aching cunt. He pulls them halfway out before thrusting them back in, the flat of his palm smacking against your swollen clit. 

Nails digging deeper into his skin, you rock your hips in time with his hand, whining and moaning as he fingerfucks your pussy rough and deep. 

“Such a sweet little wife I have,” he kisses your ear as your eyes struggle to stay open, cunt clamping down on his fingers from the endearment. 

He drags his cock against your thigh, smearing precum against your skin to mix with the slick dripping from your pussy. 

“I want to be inside you,” he whispers hotly against your lips, “I want to be buried deep in my bride’s pussy as I drink from her pleasured body.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you chant, throat dry from all your gasping and panting, “I need you inside me, Leon. Please.”

He pulls his fingers out slowly making you  whimper once your cunt’s empty again. Leon shushes you gently, gripping his cock in one hand while his other grabs your thigh and wraps it over his waist. Rubbing the fat head of dick up and down your slit, he teases his cock across your hole before using the tip to part your pussy lips and rub across your sensitive clit.

You rock your hips forward and he kisses your neck, tongue lapping at the marks he left. Moving his cock back down, he slowly presses his dick into your leaking hole. 

“So tight,” he murmurs, praise lacing his tone and making you hump down onto his cock.

He lets you work your wet cunt on his dick until he’s buried fully inside your pulsing heat. 

“Needed this,” he groans, rutting his cock slowly in and out of your pussy, “needed to be inside of you, a part of you.”

Pleasure washes over you like the tide meeting the shore. Leon’s cock grinds against the spongy spot at the front of your cunt making you ooze slick until it’s dripping down his balls, leaving a creamy ring around the base of his dick. 

With a small shift, he rolls you completely over onto your back, body weight pressing you down into the mattress as he fucks in deeper inside your fluttering pussy. His pelvis grinds down onto your pudgy clit sending little bolts of desire throughout your whole body. 

“Leon, so good,” you whimper, fingers grasping at his biceps, hips rolling forward to keep his dick inside you, leaking tip pressed against your cervix. 

“Taking me so well, a perfect fit,” he kisses you gently, sucking your tongue into his mouth, teeth nicking the muscle causing blood to flavor your kisses. 

Moaning hungrily, Leon gets rougher, mouth pressing against yours so tightly your teeth ache. A high keening cry slips out between the bruising press of Leon’s lips against yours. Pulling away, he growls and drags his mouth to your neck, lathing his tongue against the multitude of wounds he left earlier. 

“So tight around me, are you getting close, little love?” He chuckles and teases your neck with his teeth making you keen and squirm against him. 

“Yes, please, ‘m close,” you moan, legs coming up to wrap tightly around his waist, “w’nna cum, wanna feel you inside me.”

Leon hums and swivels his hips, rutting his cock into your cunt without pulling out until you’re clawing at his back with short choked off whines. He grinds against your clit until your eyes roll back into your head. 

His teeth sink into your neck one last time, pushing you over the edge for the second time as your orgasm crashes through your body. Crying out, your arms and legs lock around Leon’s body, head thrown back as your cunt clenches around his dick. 

“So lovely,” he pulls back, licking the blood away from your neck, “my perfect bride.” 

He rabbits his hips into your squelching cunt until finally stilling, cock buried balls deep inside your spasming pussy as you milk his throbbing dick. Your pussy walls flutter and clamp down around him as he spills hot and sticky inside your slick heat. 

“Beautiful,” he kisses your earlobe with a sigh, cock kicking inside your pussy as he finishes painting your walls white. 

Endorphins make you dizzy and bubbly, smiling up at Leon’s blood stained face as he gazes lovingly down at you. 

“My husband,” you murmur, lovesick and sweet, hands coming up to caress his face and he kisses each of your palms. 

“All yours,” he promises seriously, “there is a reason why all things are as they are.”

You laugh and smooth a thumb under his eye, “You’re so cute.”

He snorts a laugh, delighting you immensely, and settles down into the messy sheets before pulling you into his chest. 

With a soft kiss placed atop his heart, you snuggle into his body until he wraps his arms around you. The soft rise and fall of his chest lulls you to sleep. 

Talking to Lara the next day is surprisingly easy. You have the feeling Leon used some weird vampire energy on her since she seemed unusually chill about it. Promising you that she’ll keep in touch once she heads back home, you spend the few short hours she has left together before she leaves early for the airport. 

It’s sad to see her go, but with Leon’s steady presence next to you filling your senses with that wonderful smell of cloves and cedar, you have zero regret in staying. 

#lipglossanon #lipglossmasterlist #12 days of smutmas #smutmas 2023 #ao3rex #vampire leon kennedy #vampire!leon kennedy #vampire!leon kennedy x fem!reader #vampire!leon kennedy smut #vampire!leon kennedy x fem!reader smut #vampire!leon s kennedy #vampire!leon s kennedy x fem!reader #vampire!leon s kennedy smut #vampire!leon s kennedy x fem!reader smut #au

[fangirleaconmigo]

In your expert opinion, do you think there’s any deeper reading to interpret from Geralt’s rebound with Essi, and traits she shares with Dandelion? (I know it wasn’t authorial intention in the least, but when he kissed her within 10 minutes of meeting, I got a “she’s a lot like Dandelion, surely she’s safe to embarrass myself with” vibe).

Hi Nonny!

Essi and Dandelion, Poets and Parallels, Ballads and Broken Hearts

Thank you for the ask! I'm on my lunch break from work, but I'm so happy to be answering Witcher book questions again that I'm sneaking off to do this.

Essi is such an interesting character, right? On one hand, she seems to be treated as the 'anti-Yen" by the narrative and the thing that Geralt 'should' want, thereby reinforcing his love for Yen when he *doesn't* fall in love with Essi.

But then there are all the curious parallels and similarities with Dandelion, which also makes it fun to analyze in that way. The list of similarities is long: their profession, personality, looks, their level of talent, and my favorite, their readiness to throw hands on behalf of Geralt of Rivia. And then there is The Ballad.

Ok. I'm going to set authorial intent aside for the moment, because writers write things all the time they don't intend to write. And I think any artist worth their salt should be thrilled that their work is layered and interesting enough to inspire differing interpretations.

That being said, let's get to the fun part.

SPOILERS SPOILERS FOR ESSI'S STORY PLS DON'T READ IF YOU DON'T WANT TO BE SPOILED.

Profession, personality

Let's look at Essi's introduction! She enters the scene acting just like Dandelion. Both poets are mercilessly insulting one another in their fake-genteel way. (Lots of shade, as well as out and out insults)

Geralt is taken aback, thinking they are fighting, but then they fall on one another embracing and he's like...oh lordt. There's two of them.

"The Witcher was taken aback, but not too greatly. A professional colleague of Dandelion's could not, indeed, differ much from him in terms of predictability."

--Sword of Destiny pg 195

So we have profession, and personality being very similar. Bards with sharp tongues and ready emotions. Then we have looks!

Looks.

I've done a post on Dandelion's looks here. And Essi is similar! Blonde hair, blue eyes, and beautiful. Same same. Sorry, her eyes are a dark blue whereas Dandelion's are cornflower. Much different so contrast.

Level of talent.

They are both beloved and famous. When Ciri is studying at Nenneke's temple, she has access to both of their books of poetry.

[Ciri] read The Adversities of Loving and Time of the Moon, collections of poems by the famous troubadour Dandelion. She shed tears over the ballads of Essi Daven, subtle, infused with mystery, and collected in a small, beautifully bound volume entitled The Blue Pearl. --Blood of Elves pg 298

And Geralt adores both of their voices. When Essi and Dandelion are singing together, Geralt thinks to himself that they have the most beautiful voices that he has ever heard.

They Stay Ready to Throw Hands for Geralt of Rivia.

The text even classifies Essi and Dandelion together on this. And as I said, it's my favorite part of her character, and not just because I love Geralt. It shows her strength, her strong sense of self, her courage, and her values.

First, she, much in the way that Dandelion does, uses her fame, connections, and higher social standing to protect Geralt. And she throws Dandelion into the mix for good measure to strengthen her threats. So when Duke Agloval threatens to drive Geralt to the border with a whip. Essi reponds.

"...please dont threaten Geralt. It so happens that Dandelion and I have several friends...King Ethain of Cidaris...always says that our ballads aren't just lively music and rhymes, but a way of spreading news...Do you wish, your Grace, to be written into the chronicle of human kind? I can arrange it?" --Sword of Destiny pg 212

And when Geralt turns down Agloval's 'offer' of permanent work killing sea creatures in a permanent war with them, (keeping in mind that the noble has stiffed Geralt twice on payment so far) Agloval invokes Geralt's poverty in a demeaning way.

"Oh how proud," Agloval smiled. "How haughty. You reject offers in a way some kings wouldn't be ashamed of. You give up decent money with the air of a wealthy man after a lavish dinner. Geralt? Did you have lunch today? No? And tomorrow? And the day after? I see little chance, Witcher, very little..."

It is so infuriating. Agloval is saying...who the fuck do you think you are? Someone important? Someone with status?? Someone who is allowed to decide his own ethics for himself?

This is a constant theme. The...know your place. Stop trying to think for yourself. Ethics look stupid on you, because you aren't 'real' enough of a human being to have them. So it is super satisfying when Essi lets loose on him.

"How dare you!" Little Eye cried shrilly. "How dare you speak like that to him Agloval!...How can you be so base?"...

Geralt tries to stop her. He sees little point.

"Stop it Essi," Geralt said. "Stop, Essi, there's no point." "Not true," she said angrily. "These is a point. Someone has to tell it straight to this self-appointed duke....who now thinks he has the right to insult other people."

And she isn't done.

"Yes, Agloval, " Essi continued, clenching her shaking hands into fists. "The opportunity to insult other people amuses and pleases you. You delight in the contempt you can show the Witcher...you should know that the Witcher mocks your attempts and slights., that they do not make the faintest impression on him..."

Then we bring Dandelion back in. Because guess who also feels anger and revulsion when Geralt is treated so contemptuously? Let Essi say it...

"The Witcher doesn't feel what Dandelion and I feel, and we feel revulsion."

Sword of Destiny pg 237

That's like...not even half of her unloading on this guy. She is like...you are worth less than Geralt, so jot that down.

Now..

The Ballad

Here is why the ballad matters to me. I think that perhaps even more interesting than how Geralt responds to Essi (interesting though it is) is how Dandelion responds to Essi. Why does he think someone who is almost exactly like him is perfect for Geralt? I mean, he sees himself in her so much that he thinks of her as his sister.

He loves her more than Geralt does I think that is clear. Geralt cares deeply about her. But to Dandelion, she is like his family.

He is put in a shitty position of seeing her distraught and anguished about her feelings for Geralt and Geralt afraid of leading her on or hurting her. Geralt and Essi go back and forth, making it insufferable for Dandelion as a third wheel.

I talked about it here here and here.

Dandelion's response is the subject of controversy in fandom, and there are many valid and differing reader responses. But it seems clear that Dandelion has come to terms with the fact that Geralt and Essi will not be together in love, despite his advice to Geralt. So he suggests they just fuck to get it out of their systems and then everything will be ok. (that's his solution to most things)

So, if he is at ease with that, why the ballad? At the end of the story, Dandelion composes a ballad while Essi and Geralt sleep.

Dandelion, staring into the dying embers, sat much longer, alone, quietly strumming his lute. It began with a few bars, from which an elegant, soothing melody emerged. The lyric suited the melody, and came into being simultaneously with it, the words blending into the music, becoming set in it like insects in translucent, golden lumps of amber. The ballad told of a certain witcher and a certain poet. About how the witcher and the poet met on the seashore, among the crying of seagulls, and how they fell in love at first sight. About how beautiful and powerful was their love. About how nothing - not even death - was able to destroy that love and part them.

Sword of Destiny pg 246

Why this romantic song?? About a witcher and poet?

Yes, it could be just for the ballad, for a successful song. The text talks about the real story not being a good one for a ballad.

But there is so much emotion and magic in that scene. What is he thinking? What is he feeling?

Of course you know about what happens next, Essi's heartbreaking end, and Dandelion's crushing grief. She dies of smallpox during an epidemic. Dandelion is there. Did he go as soon as he heard? Was he visiting her expecting some lovely evenings singing around a fire and found her dead?

However it happened, Dandelion does not leave her to die alone. He does not turn tail and leave, avoiding smallpox. He literally carries the cold dead corpse of this woman he loves, who he sees as his sister, in his arms...

...Dandelion had carried her out in his arms between corpses being cremated on funeral pyres and had buried her far from the city, in the forest, alone and peaceful...

He buries her alone with his own hands! Oh how his heart must have shattered. It is moments like that, that you see the deeper, kinder, even (dare I say) noble side of the vain, braggadocios, whorish bard.

It goes on to say that Dandelion could have changed the song at any point to be a true version (the one where Essi dies), but he never did.

No, Dandelion stuck with his first version. And he never sang it. Never. To no one. Sword of Destiny p 246

Yeah.

To me there is a story about a young girl who cares enough for ten people, who has a huge heart, and a deep soul. A fearless girl who feels things too big for her to handle for a man others call a monster. A girl whose voice is like an angel.

And then there is a story about a broken hearted poet who loved her (far more than Geralt did) and who wrote a song about a witcher and a poet and he never changed the words and never sang it to anyone.

And I wonder if he wasn't writing that ballad about a witcher and a different poet entirely.

*sob*

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #dandelion #geraskier #jaskier #gerlion #essi daven #the witcher books #thinking about the witcher books yet again #thinking about dandelion yet again

[gothic-galene]

What makes you attractive?

☆ 🖇️ 𖥻 ＜꒱                PAID SERVICES

Pile 1

Some of you tend to take extra responsibility or just come off that way. You're definitely seen as someone hardworking and responsible. You might have kind of a hurt vibe to yourself, I'm getting people thinking that you've gone through a lot of pain in life. For some reason, you are perceived as someone who's been backstabbed and left behind and that makes you really attractive. Some of you might be really analytical and logical, you might have trouble with creativity, understanding your own or others' emotions and people might take your words the wrong way because you come off very harsh/you just look really cold unless someone talks to you or you're too nice and loving which allows people to walk all over you. People who tend to like mean people with a soft spot only for them tend to develop a crush on you. You might be seen as someone who doesn't abandon their core values for anyone or anything which is definitely a very attractive trait. People know that leadership carries a responsibility so they admire your ability to either take them on or refuse taking them because you feel like you're not ready enough. I'm getting really mixed messages for this pile, some of you might be addicted to something or someone, people definitely notice that. People think that you place too much faith in friends, partner, family, etc. which makes you attractive in their eyes. People might think that you're wealthy, I mean- money is attractive ☠️. People might think that you have really high standards, might be because of the people from your past? Romantically and platonically. You seem to be really innovative and original. Some of you might have capricorn and aquarius placements. People might give up on things or their love interests because they think they're out of their league but you tend to get whatever you want. You're seen as someone who doesn't give up on the things, people and beliefs that you want even if you seem delusional and in the end you tend to get what you want or your belief proves to be a fact. You know how to take time before moving forward. Right now, you might be getting to know yourself or taking care of yourself, I'm getting a lot of deep soul searching here. You're slowly learning how to use your intuition and trying to balance between stuff. You might be the type to not pick sides or stop fights, to make people realize what they did was wrong without treating them differently, give them harsh advice when needed along with comforting words that don't come off like you pity them. Some of you might give people trouble at the beginning when they're getting to know you or they just tend to look too much into it. I'm getting them not knowing what to make of you, your words or action but you make them want to explore relationships (platonic and romantic.) People tend to crave to feel the way you make them feel. Things tend to darken, tend to become colder when you're around and there's a warm light only surrounding you, people naturally crave that light. Some of you have leo placements.

Pile 2

Dragon beauty, a selective few of you have a dragon beauty (example, Hwang Hyunjin and Hwang Yeji) or you just have a dragon like aura. I'm being brought to ancient Chinese dramas, girls with the prettiest hair I've ever seen. I'm also getting a lot of Arabic poetry here, people tend to want to do anything for you. You might attract leo and pisces placements a lot. "And every one of my heartbeats is a poem for you." You tend to attract a lot of givers and I think you, yourself are a giver as well. I'm getting heavy shame whenever you take things from others. I feel like people see a lot of potential in you. You might also be the type to see potential in others. People who are anti-romantics and who's growth is blocked somehow tend to be the ones who are attracted towards you, however, unless you make a move, they won't make a move either☠️. You're seen as someone bold and someone ambitious. People think you're preparing something, it makes you intriguing. Even if you haven't, everything you say seems very planned because you might be very witty, might be a flirt too. Some people view you as someone who's clinging onto an old thing or person and not moving on or you have moved on now but you couldn't back then and took a lot of time moving on. You're seen as someone very generous and kind of selfless, to be honest. People might think on a deeper level, you don't trust people. People might also feel like you see right through them. Some people think you're hiding something and are very mysterious which makes you really attractive too. You seem very persistent and courageous, you might have gone through quite a rough patch in the past if not multiple of them. People who tend to question your personal strength tend to get proven wrong everytime. Don't let others affect your decisions. You might be the type to have favourites, the thought of being treated differently than others by you is very exciting to others, their most common day dream to be honest, which makes you attractive too. You might attract cancers as well.

Pile 3

Enchanting, that's how others describe your presence. You're physically really attractive is what I'm getting. "It is a part of her beauty, the quality of being not quite there, dreamlike." Heeseung from Enhypen, Jungkook from BTS, Timothée Chalamet, young Leonardo DiCaprio, etc. that's how your aura is like, you've got a charm similar to theirs, very dreamy. Some of you might smell soft like roses or vanilla. I also feel like you're very authentic. You might be a 'quaintrelle.' Definition: A quaintrelle is a woman who emphasizes a life of passion expressed through personal style, leisurely pastimes, charm, and cultivation of life's pleasures. I'm getting you taking decisive action and having a lot of self control. I feel like because you're very dreamy, people get shocked by your intensity when you speak. You're seen as someone very confident, you're also seen as rich and content. I'm getting Song Jia energy here. You might have been a very different person in the past so the you now is very attractive to others because you seem to be a whole new person. People might feel like you have to win at all costs or will win at all costs. You might have gone through a betrayal in the past. I feel like emotionally you're either in a healthy place or come off to be in a healthy place. You're also seen as someone who can socialize when needed to and has good connections, might be good at teamwork. Were you physically injured in the past? For a few of you who were, your ability to get better and the difference in your mindset from back then is definitely something many admire. You might have isolated yourself back then. You might have been the type to stress and worry too much but now you're better, you've grown, you use worrying to your advantage. Spend time with people that you feel good, try to do things that make you feel good as well (I feel like you're already doing it.) You might have or should work towards connecting with your inner child. Some of you might be coming out after too much alone time or staying in after too much socializing.

#aesthetic #pick a deck #pick a card #pick a picture #pick a photo #pick an image #pick a pile #pick a gif #tarot reading #love reading #pile 1 #pile 2 #astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astro community #astrovations #spread #kpop tarot #tarotonline #tarotblr #blog post #tarotscope #pick a crystal #asteroid #synastry #aquarius #poetry #pisces #leo

[takecareluv]

꒰ how to feel like a princess this summer ꒱ؘ ࿔*:･ﾟ

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ you don't need a castle, a fairy godmother or a team of helpful little mice to make you feel like a princess in your day to day life. all you need is your sweetest, most confident self and you are good to go .ᐟ here are a few tips & fun activities to do by yourself ( because a princess always enjoys their own company ! ) or with a friend, whether it's the furry kind or a fellow princess.

✧ ˖ ° ₊ ⊹ : ˚ ೀ ⋆

⨾ first things first, while a princess loves to spend their days frolicking in nature and soaking up the sun, they always protect their skin using spf. so whatever adventures you decide to take on this summer ( and all year round ) , be tedious about applying sunscreen. i promise, your future self will thank you for it.ᐟ

⨾ princesses have a natural glow about them. whether it be from the graceful manner in which they carry themselves, their beautiful smile that lights up a room, or the radiance of their skin - a princess takes care of themself, inside and out. so, to feel like one, be sure to prioritize self care & self love. create a skincare routine that works for you. keep a rose water spray with you for a quick refresh throughout the day. wear light, glowy makeup like cream blush, a lip tint, and a good mascara to emphasize those doe eyes. and find a signature scent people will remember you by.

⨾ wearing soft and light fabrics - like lace and linen - will keep you as cool as possible, while also feeling cute during these hot summer months. whether it's flowing dresses or light linen pants ; sandals or sneakers ; florals & pastels to more natural, earthy tones - wear whatever makes your inner princess shine .ᐟ

⤷ plus, adding little accessories such as frilly socks, ribbons, pearls and other dainty jewelry can be a fun, but simple way to add an extra bit of delicacy to your day to day look.

⨾ try putting your hair up in loose styles - such as a braid - or keep it down and flowing with beautiful, bouncy curls. and again, the simplest style can be elevated to 'princess level' with little details like decorating your hair with flowers, butterfly clips or a headband; tying ribbons and bows into your up-do, or even adding a satin scarf.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴

✿. summer can be the perfect time to find a new passion, or perhaps reignite an old one .ᐟ for example : taking up a language , learning about greek mythology , writing & reading poetry , learning to sew or crochet , or learning to play an instrument ( piano, flute, violin, etc. ) - there are so many different hobbies to try this season.

⤷ and even better, with the warm weather, you can do them all outside surrounded by the beauty of nature - birds chirping in the distance, a gentle breeze dancing through the trees, and the sun shining down on you.

✿. like i mentioned earlier, a princess's best friend is mother nature. they love to spend time engaging with any and all of nature's elements. here are some ways you can do the same . . .

✿. start your very own garden .ᐟ

whether it be filled with an assortment of vibrant flowers, or even a mix of fruits, veggies and herbs, a garden is a perfect way to create a serene and magical place to spend your summer days. you can even add a chair or maybe lay out a blanket for a quiet little reading spot. plus. . . with a garden in your midst, you can pick as many flowers as you'd like to create your own bouquets or make flower crowns for yourself and friends .ᐟ ⤷ filling your space with flowers will definitely make you feel like you are living in a fairytale 𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒

✿. visit a farmer's market or go berry picking .ᐟ

🍓 picking your own strawberries, blueberries, or any other fresh fruit & veggies can be a cute way to stock your fridge and find the ingredients for your next recipe. 🫐 baking is another great hobby to pick up - especially for during those stormy summer days you have to stay inside. breads, muffins, cakes, and jams - there's so many things you can make using the fruit you hand picked; and an added bonus, it will keep your kitchen smelling super yummy .ᐟ

✿. have a picnic .ᐟ

take yourself on a date or round up a group of friends for a picnic at the park or on the beach. you can pack a basket of macarons, sparkling cider, and any of your other favorite treats ; find the perfect spot to lay your blanket, and maybe even bring some reading material or a journal to write in .ᐟ

✿. feed the ducks .ᐟ

if you have a pond nearby, you can take a walk & bring something to feed the duckies, turtles, or any of the other sweet creatures swimming around in there. if not, you can also make homemade bird food and treat those hungry little birdies singing outside your house every day. it could also be fun to take a trip to a local farm or petting zoo and feed some animals that way .ᐟ ⤷ if you do any of these things, please remember to do your research on what foods are good for our little friends, be respectful, and clean up after yourself. princesses don’t litter .ᐟ

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ જ⁀➴

if the sun is not shining or you are looking for other ways to spend time like a princess, here are a few more ideas to add to your summer bucket list. . .

ᥫ᭡. take a trip to a museum and wander its halls, admiring the magnificent artwork in all its beauty.

ᥫ᭡. visit your local library or bookstore and spend the day picking out your next read.

ᥫ᭡. play dress up with your closest friends and have a tea party.

ᥫ᭡. try painting pottery. you could even paint & personalize your very own tea cup or jewelry box .ᐟ

ᥫ᭡. send a handwritten letter to a loved one or a pen pal. and while you’re add it, you can get some practice writing in cursive .ᐟ

ᥫ᭡. pamper yourself a little extra with a bubble bath - adding in rose petals, filling the bathroom with candles, and treating yourself to a plentiful amount of ladurée macarons - in good ole blair waldorf fashion.

࿐a princess always walks with their head held high. they know what makes them feel like their most confident self, and they don't shy away from it by trying to be anyone else. with that being said, always be your true, and authentic self - don't change just to fit a certain 'aesthetic' - take what you like from it, and leave the rest. it is important to do & wear whatever makes you feel comfortable, because in turn you will also feel your most beautiful - as a princess always should .ᐟ

xoxo, meg ♡

#this is my first time making anything like this so i hope it’s okay. it might not be perfect but i had a lot of fun making it ! #so i hope you all enjoy & find ways to feel like the princess that u are <3333 #soft girl #princess aesthetic #self love #dream life #self care #soft pink #pink pilates princess #beauty #cottagecore #fairytale living #fairy aesthetic #pinkcore #girlblogging #it girl #coquette #skincare #slow living #fashion #clean girl #summer bucket list #summer aesthetic #how to #dream girl #just girly things #glow up tips #tips and tricks #romantize your life #angel aesthetic

[artful-aries]

Genshin Impact Headcanons: Ways they show affection (Diluc, Zhongli, Xiao, Itto)

I was having some big brain thoughts about these boys. ​​Feel free to request more characters for this prompt! Or any other ideas too I’m dying to write more about genshin. If formatting is weird then just kill me, I forgot mobile sucks for text posts

​​Diluc

​​You can summarize Diluc’s emotions in one word; Repressed

Diluc loves with his entire being, the overwhelming ache he gets in his chest when he looks at you burns hotter than any fire he could create

​​But conveying this passion…isn’t his strong suit.

​​If words of affirmation are your love language, you’re really going to have a hard time. If you asked him nicely for him to tell you he loves you more he will certainly make an effort, but for a while he will come across as stiff and awkward

He’s much better at showing his affection through subtle means; wrapping you in a blanket when he finds you asleep on a couch at the winery, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, walking you home at night, just general sweet things that could easily be mistaken for platonic actions of you didn’t notice the look of absolute adoration in his eyes.

He would move Dragonspine itself for you if you so much as expressed displeasure at its view, but being able to verbalize his affections isn’t his forte.

​​When he DOES express his affection, it’s so heart achingly tender

​​“The Archons themselves could not keep me from loving you with every fiber of my being, my love.”

​​

​​Zhongli

​​He’s almost the antithesis of Diluc; this man is ALL about words of affirmation

​​The man practically spits poetry every time he tells you he loves you, and nearly brings you to tears every time

​​“For all the ages I have lived, nothing has made me more certain of the beauty of this realm than your existence. You blossom like violet grass in the crevices of my heart.”

​​He OCCASIONALLY gives you more basic words of affirmation, such as complementing you on your outfit, pointing out how much he enjoys your conversations, etc

​​He definitely goes on monologues about his love for you if you let him, and is completely unashamed of it

​​He’s waited millennia for you, why would he hold back his thoughts now while you’re here to listen?

​​Part of Zhongli is always considering your mortality, so he wants to make sure you know how much you are loved in the short fragment of time your lives collide in the loom of fate

​​

​​Xiao

​​He’s more like Diluc in that he’s not going to give you many words of affirmation

​​Xiao is a mix of quality time and acts of service as a love language

​​His idea of quality time is…unusual. He’s not used to human customs, so his idea of quality time is literally just hovering around you

​​He doesn’t even strike up much conversation when he does this, he’s comfortable enough to be silent around you

​​If you insist on doing some kind of activity, he will go along with it, though depending on the activity you suggest me might get confused or even flustered

​​As far as acts of service, they aren’t anything grand like giving you massages, buying you flowers, etc

​​He’s straight up going to make it his job to protect you. If he finds out you’re going ANYWHERE that you might encounter hilichurls or other nefarious creatures, you’re not going without him

​​Xiao practically appears before you can even finish calling out his name, he’s ready to do anything to make you happy, even if he won’t admit it outright

​​If you do ever manage to corner him into talking about his feelings, he would answer in a vague way, “As a Yaksha, I shouldn’t interfere with the lives of mortals too much, but I…feel compelled to protect you.”

​​

​​Itto

​​He’s loud and proud about his love for you, it’s to the point that the Arataki gang is almost sick of hearing your name come from his mouth

​​The downside is that he will also process his love to you to complete strangers

​​“You see that babe over there, that’s my numero uno right there! They’re like the most amazing person you’ll ever meet, which makes them the perfect addition to the Arataki Gang! Don’t get any ideas though since hearing about how awesome they are, they’re waaaay out of your league- hey, where are you going??”

​​When you try to reign him in he doesn’t get it. You’re dating THE Arataki Itto, why can’t he go around town singing your praises?

​​He’s very physically affectionate with you too, you won’t be able to walk three feet without him practically hanging off of you

​​Itto likes doing acts of service too….for better or for worse. He often ropes the boys in to help him with whatever grand plan he’s cooked up, and it always ends in disaster

​​If Shinobu doesn’t practically wring his neck, then he usually ends up on the run from the Tenryou Comission. He’ll say it’s a testament to how much he loves you, Shinobu says it’s a testament to how little he uses his brain to think things through. The jury (you) is still out on the verdict

​​

​​

​​

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #xiao x reader #xiao #Diluc x reader #Diluc #diluc ragnvindr #zhongli #zhongli x reader #itto x reader #arataki itto #genshin headcanons #reader insert

[asecretvice]

hi. i don’t know why i haven’t sent a message sooner. but better late than never.

anyway. i just wanted to say “and this, your living kiss” changed my life. it inspired me to start writing my own poetry. poetry that has now been published. a published collection that does thank one jack allen in the acknowledgments.

without going into too much detail or trauma dumping or anything, this past year has been the worst of my life. any time i felt like there was nothing good left in the world, i’d reread atylk and remember that there’s so much beauty out there. your fic has been pretty instrumental in my healing. i even got a tattoo of one of my favorite quotes from the fic recently (see attached photo).

so yeah. thanks for sharing your words with the me and the world and everyone else.

Wow, this is. This is incredible, truly.

First, I am so, so sorry you've been going through it this past year. It heartens me that despite the challenges you've been facing, you've found the strength and courage to find the good and keep on keeping on. That my story had some part to play is humbling; I can only be grateful to have been able to help in this small way.

It never fails to leave me boggled when someone says my writing has inspired them to write in turn, and that so many people have (re)kindled a relationship with poetry because of this fic warms me to the core. I am so proud of you for putting pen to the page, carving yourself this creative space, and then bravely sharing it! Getting published too, wow! I always say the world needs its poets, and I couldn't be happier that you've added your voice to the human chorus.

The tattoo, though--that is a new one for me. I can barely sort my emotions just sitting here looking at it, proof positive of all the kind things you've said. Shocked, for sure. Humbled, once again. All I can think to say is this: I do turn to poetry in general when my spirit is heavy with ache, but the work of Tennyson in particular has helped me through some of my darkest times. To see his words there mixed with my own as a single snapshot of permanent ink, living artwork warm and pulsing, shatters me.

Friend, you are a marvel. That you have come through your crucible to live anew is triumph enough, but the way you are moving through the world making your own beauty and meaning despite - or maybe even because of - it? That is to be celebrated as well.

Thank you for this.

#opal replies #living kiss #icaruspendragon

[desceros]

pls, wise one, when you have time, share with your children how you structure and word your writing so, so beautifully! cause you have me in a choke hold and my soul hooked to a chain with all your writings! especially your Tea fic :) I strive to become as good as you <3

oh man. this is a tough one. i kinda, uh. just do it at this point without really thinking?? so hold my hand and maybe we can figure it out together LMAO i'll use an example blurb and try and break it down as coherently as i can.

so first you want to have a pretty clear picture of what you want to convey to your reader. the more defined it is in your head, the more easily you can communicate things to your readers. eventually you'll get a feel for how much detail to go into as you describe it. you really don't need to describe the placement of every limb at every moment... but also, the placement of a hand can tell you so much about what's going on in a character's mind, so it's good to know where it is. there's a fine line between purple prose and effective set dressing.

i was just whining about not writing enough soft donnie so let's do that. he's on the couch staring at you. let's write that really quickly:

notice i don't talk about his entire body placement, but the looseness of his limbs is important. it gives a picture of his mental state without overwhelming you with too much detail.

next: i like to start with big, grand statements, then slowly pluck them apart into the minutia. things like. he looks comfortable. ok; what does that look like? what shape does he take in your head? for me, it's that he's reclining. propping himself up casually. i emphasize the 'soft. relaxed.' by having them be their own short sentences.

on that note, mixing your sentence length is very important and guides the flow of things. longer sentences are like water, bringing your reader down the river you've crafted for them. short sentences have a lot of power, because they're a lot more percussive. you want to use them sparingly so you don't overuse that and retain that feel. mix where you put your independent and dependent phrases, but also know when to mirror yourself. parallel structure can invite your reader to compare ideas or generate momentum. for example, continuing this blurb a bit:

every sentence begins the same, going from long to medium to short in a way that makes the flow of the paragraph feel a bit like a snowball rolling down a hill, like your thoughts are rushing, so that by the end you can land on a thought that's monumental and feels a little breathless. this is possible because of the parallel structure of the sentences ("like ____. like ____. like _____.") pushing the reader forward. you can of course do it in the opposite direction as well, for when you want to slow a reader down and force them to linger in a moment.

word choice is very important. i'm pretty particular about the words i use for certain things, and i really love using similes and metaphors to create abstract imagery that catches the light more than a flat statement. but it's also important to know when to use those flat statements for a high-impact statement. let's try:

this kind of falls into my philosophy on the whole 'show don't tell' thing. i'm obsessed with showing. but sometimes, it's more impactful if you tell. like... here you have a very evocative description of him. it includes little things like a reference to a red string of fate (showing it's a romantic moment for you, not platonic), wanting to keep the image in your head permanently, pretty words that mirror what your POV character feels. at the end, you can land on just. he's beautiful. because really that's all that needs to be said, right? but it feels more weighty a thing to say after what came before.

one of the best things i ever did for my prose writing was study poetry. that gave me an appreciation for the weight of a word, and how to use it effectively. the right word or phrase can really change a sentence both melodically and emotionally.

consider the difference between these:

does he want something? or does he covet it? is he unable to look away from your smile? or is he ensorcelled?

a writer's vernacular is an incredibly powerful tool, so i recommend highly that you expand your vocabulary. make sure to focus on not just the explicit definitions, but also the implicit. some words are largely interchangeable (a touch that slides vs one that glides), but some very much are not even though at first glance they seem they should (a haunting kiss vs a lingering kiss).

anyway i hope that helped a little! this kind of minutia-crafting is like, a passion of mine so i probably went way overboard OOPS but hey if it helps even a little i WIN

#ask tag #writing tag #any excuse for sweatpantello am i right ladies #god. edit btw thank you so much for the compliments i totally forgot to put that in the tags fdsakfjkj

[etirabys]

CS Lewis says:

The actual operation of the Homeric diction is remarkable. The unchanging recurrence of his wine-dark sea, his rosy­ fingered dawn, his ships launched into the holy brine, his Poseidon shaker ofearth, produce an effect which modern poetry, except where it has learned from Homer himself, cannot attain.

I semi-like reading Homer for a variety of reasons but I've always felt put off by claims that these authors were really good, so good that they account for the success of future writers who emulated them. Probabilistically that makes no sense. The human population has grown so much, and so has the share of people who are literate, and the bank of thought they stand on. Aristotle is probably my favorite of the really old writers I've sampled – he feels clean and affable and smart – but it would be very surprising if I considered him remarkable for quality, and indeed he isn't.

One reason I think people say this is that they are mixing up gratitude with quality. Writers have gotten better and better over the years because of what came before, so they are naturally indebted to tradition. But it seems to me that the real reason is that socially agreeing that the olds were also the greats enables the class of people who do intellectuality as leisure and passion to play social games and word games. Let's look at how CS Lewis continues this:

...except where it has learned from Homer himself, cannot attain. They emphasize the unchanging human environment. They express a feeling very profound and very frequent in real life, but else­ where ill represented in literature. What is really in our minds when we first catch sight of the sea after a long absence, or look up, as watchers in a sickroom or as sentries, to see yet another daybreak ? Many things, no doubt-all manner of hopes and fears, pain or pleasure, and the beauty or grimness of that particular sea and that particular dawn. Yes; but under all these, like a base so deep as to be scarcely audible, there is something which we might very lamely express by muttering 'same old sea' or 'same old morning'. The permanence, the indifference, the heartrending or consoling fact that whether we laugh or weep the world is what it is, always enters into our experience and plays no small part in that pressure of reality which is one of the differences between life and imagined life.

This is not a good argument. It's a way you can see things. You could apply it to anything, and so it proves too much. It's a way CS Lewis feels, or has chosen to feel, about Homer, not a way in which Homer has Contributed To Literature.

Yet I found his argument so beautiful to read. I kind of want to believe it! And to write something this beautiful about Homer, CS Lewis and his audience had to buy that there was always more depth to Homer worth diving for. Something must be extractable that has not been noticed for thousands and thousands of years... the sheer gravity of the preexisting dialogue draws one to the work, and once drawn, one must believe there is more there.

And as long as people crave these beautiful, subtle, old games of analysis, they will not let what is very old be anything other than great.

#rambl #eti reads paradise lost #kind of stretching that tag but oh well

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

How do you think the M6 would react to a lying MC? Whether it’s to them or some one else is up to you or how extreme the lie is. Thank you, Arcana Headcannon Jesus <3

The Arcana HCs: M6 and the lies MC tries to tell them

~ oh boy, i did not expect being called Arcana Headcannon Jesus to hit my religious trauma like that, that was a vibe check lol

considering how in the stories MC tends to omit the truth at worst and be painfully blunt at best, i'm going to write them as a terrible liar just as a personal design choice. and also because it makes me laugh. thanks for the prompt, anon, i hope it makes you smile! - brainrot ~

Julian

You can totally read his handwriting

You love it when he writes you love letters, they warm your heart, but truthfully you can only make out maybe a quarter of the words on the page

But you can't tell him that because you don't want him to feel like all that beautiful poetry went to waste

At least you think it was poetry

You're running some errands, does he need anything?

Ah, a list of obscure medical devices. Which may or may not be available. And he wrote it down for you, how sweet!

You're so busy trying to decipher the ink blotches that you don't notice his smirk

He totally believes you can read his writing, and all the words on the paper are totally not made up medical jargon

He never says anything because he lives for the moment he can bend over your shoulder and murmur the words he wrote into your quickly reddening ear

Asra

You don't mind the questionable objects they bring into the shop without warning at all

Nope, not the bidet-shaped flamethrower

Or the screeching rattle he replaced the shop's front door bell with that makes every incoming customer jump

Or their favorite painting containing colors that the human eye was not intended to see, prominently hung on your kitchen wall

Or the jar of kool-aid pickled garlic, which he still can't open even though it's been slowly emitting a toxic stench for the last month, and which he refuses to part with because he hasn't been able to try it yet

They love you, but they love pranking you too, and seeing your reactions makes them giggle

He would never cause you any harm though

Which is why their collection of poison spitting cacti stays in a pocket realm, next to the void that wouldn't stop teaching the stove salamander explosive curse words

Nadia

You know royal etiquette like it's second nature

You know all the titles there are, you never get things like pontifex and praetor and procurator mixed up

The table place settings make total sense, who wouldn't use a slightly different type of fork to eat every kind of dish?

And nothing entertains you more than petty politics, nothing at all

In fact, you don't even find Nadia's highly accomplished family remotely intimidating

They're perfectly normal people, just like you, and you are just like them, every move is graceful and your clothes are always pristine

Nadia adores your spirited approach and will happily move purposefully slowly at the dinner table so you know which fork to grab and how to eat the complicated dishes that get served

According to her, you know what you're doing better than anyone else does

Muriel

You can reach and lift anything he can, no problem

You just need a little more time, but you'll get it

You can get the fallen tree split up for firewood and carted into storage, no biggie

Okay so the sun is setting now and you started before lunch and it never takes him longer than half an hour, but you took a lot of breaks okay

But if he wants to spend time with you that badly, he can help a little

Now you just need to lift those bowls down to eat, you've got this, you're a good climber

You never develop any suspicions around why daily necessities always end up on the top shelves, or why Muriel is so open to you helping with outside chores

He likes being needed

The face you make when you're frustrated is adorable

And he loves that you will never admit it

Portia

Please, you can absolutely keep up with her energy levels

Walking to the palace to get a shopping list

And trekking down into the city and through the floating market, the center marketplace, and the south end market to get everything

All to climb back up countless stairs with all your purchases

And walk through all the hallways to give everything to the multitude of requesters

And then back to the cottage for the evening

So you can cook the big evening meal and sweep and mop the floors and spend a few hours weeding the garden

And then all the way back out to the Rowdy Raven for a night of drinking and dancing

And then all the way back home so you can go to bed

She never pressures you to join her, but she always invites you

Hey, she likes spending time with you and you're cute when you're flushed

Lucio

You believe all his tall tales, they're so realistic

Dove to the depths of the ocean and defeated a giant minnow? Totally

Took out a thousand trained killers with one swipe of his mighty gauntlet? Mmmhm

Climbed to the top of the highest mountain to pluck some stars from the sky, which is how he got these diamonds? Of course

He can go days without eating or drinking and never crave sustenance? That tracks, he doesn't have a gluttonous bone in his body

He knows he can be narcissistic sometimes, but he's not *that* delusional

But he likes seeing your little smile as you indulge his fantasies, because you do it out of love and not mockery

And maybe he likes pretending just for a minute that what he's saying is true

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana shitpost #the arcana game #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[veturiusofserra]

this love

jack harlow x brazilian!reader

summary: through a podcast interview, Jack reveals his deep affection for his girlfriend

genre: fluffffff

my masterlist

Jack Harlow sat down for a podcast interview, ready to talk about his latest projects and the music that had captivated fans worldwide. But little did the audience know that this conversation would take an unexpected turn —one that would reveal the depths of his heart and the unexpected love he had found.

As the host of the podcast delved into his creative process, Jack's mind drifted to thoughts of her — the Brazilian actress who had captured his attention and stolen his heart. She had been living in the United States for a few years now, pursuing her dreams in Hollywood, and Jack couldn't help but be drawn to her charisma and talent.

The host noticed a shift in Jack's demeanor, a subtle smile playing on his lips, and decided to ask the question that would unravel the enigma behind this change.

"So, Jack, there's been some speculation about a certain special someone in your life. Care to share any insights?"

Jack took a moment to compose himself, realizing that it was time to let the world in on his little secret. He took a deep breath and began to speak, his voice filled with both vulnerability and excitement.

"Yeah, there is someone," he admitted. "She's an incredible actress, Brazilian by origin, but she's been living here in the US for a while now. We met through mutual friends, and from the moment we locked eyes, something just clicked."

As he spoke, he couldn't help but think of their first encounter — the way her eyes sparkled with laughter and how effortlessly they connected, despite their different backgrounds and cultures.

"We have this unspoken understanding," Jack continued, "a connection that transcends words. She's like poetry in motion, and her passion for acting is contagious. I've watched her perform on screen, and every time, I'm in awe of her talent."

The host couldn't help but notice the glimmer in Jack's eyes as he spoke about this mystery woman. It was evident that she had left an indelible mark on his heart.

"And I think that's the thing," Jack added with a soft chuckle, "it's not just her beauty or her talent—it's her spirit, her energy. She's the kind of person who lights up the room when she walks in. And when we're together, it feels like we're the only two people in the world."

"I never thought I'd find someone like her," he admitted, his voice growing softer, almost as if he were confessing his love to the world. "She's become such an important part of my life, and I can't imagine it without her."

The host was captivated by Jack's candidness and couldn't resist asking one final question. "Have you told her how you feel?"

Jack smiled, a mix of nervousness and determination evident in his expression. "Not yet, but I think it's about time. I want her to know how much she means to me, and I don't want to let this chance slip away."

Little did Jack know that as he professed his love on the podcast, the actress he adored was listening intently, heart pounding in her chest. She had always admired his music and talent, but hearing him speak so openly about his feelings sent butterflies dancing in her stomach.

#jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x you #jack harlow fanfic #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow imagines #jack harlow fics #jack harlow fluff #jack harlow

[dolceaspidenera]

Vesuvia Weekly: Apprentice and LI Dynamics

Decided to throw my hat in since I came up with so much material in my head about my apprentice, Venere, and then realized I never posted anything, poor girl has been sitting on the bench for so long like “Am I a joke to you?” 

@iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia Thank you for coming up with these prompts, I had fun doing this!

(I also mixed a bit of poetry in these hcs because I love it so much. Unfortunately, I suck at it, so don't mind too much of what I call my wordy farts)

VENERE x JULIAN – In a nutshell? The overly flirty, bisexual disaster that we all know meets a very practical and unimpressed girl (also, tall lanky man x small menace). What could go wrong?

A whirlwind. She’s swept away by it. Masks and play, it’s easier that way.  A feverish dance, a push and pull, like sea waves.  Backtracking, pacing, restlessness. The mind never stops and thinks and thinks and thinks. Where do you see value? You should leave but you are under my skin. Chasing shadows, facing gallows He can only be a martyr, the guilt takes its toll as the bell tolls  The rope is made of faults and the executioner is called love.  Now there are more hurts, and another love turns into flaming anger. How can she make him see? Gentleness, understanding, calm. We are in this together. Always.

Julian enters her life like a hurricane and turns it upside down. She is swept off her feet by his energy, but she is also sharp enough to see through him. 

They have a rocky start. Julian is kind of intimidated, kind of intrigued, obviously his answer is to double down on the flirting.

Venere is… You guessed it: unimpressed. Don’t be fooled though, she is actually quite charmed, she likes Julian, but she needs her time to feel comfortable around new people. In the meantime, she has one of the biggest resting bitch faces ever.

Most of their early interactions involve Julian aggressively flirting and Venere blushing internally while exteriorly maintaining a deadpan expression.

Julian inevitably starts to question everything; does she find him so ugly? Does she find him annoying? Should he hide in the hole and never come up again? The poor man doesn’t know what to do.

Once they clear the air and Venere feels more comfortable, is when her true character starts to shine. She is passionate and has a fiery temper, which is good most of the time, but also means she tends to react with anger to upsetting situations. Julian is much better and practiced at controlling his anger and is a good counterweight to Venere.

This is also when the table turns and Venere starts shamelessly flirting with Julian. The poor doctor is a blushing mess.

She is ready to give him an earful whenever he is acting foolish, and she is not afraid of calling him out on his bullshit, but she also learns to be very patient with him. She is determined to make him understand that he is loved, and she is always there to remind him of what an incredible, beautiful man he is.

He teases her about her magic jargon, calling it her whimsical gibberish, she teases him for his medical fancy terms and most of all his unreadable writing. 

When it comes to their respective work fields, they had to learn to communicate effectively; Julian is more comfortable with tangible and concrete things, while Venere tends to think in more abstract ways. Over time they learned to come together and communicate clearly.

They are actually a very good team. Venere is trying to implement Julian’s extensive knowledge of medicine with her magic, making medicines more effective and trying to come up with spells that can accelerate the healing process.

She is much more introverted than him, so she is always happy to let him handle social situations and let her full glorious resting bitch face shine while he charms his way out.

Their differences in social battery also mean that Venere needs her moments of solitude to recharge. The first few times it happened Julian panicked; was it something he said? After a much-needed conversation, he understands. Now, when she needs time alone, he goes to the Rowdy Raven or stops by to see Portia and Mazelinka.

Venere loves singing and dancing and Julian often accompanies her with his vielle. There's always music in their home.

After a period of travel, they settle down in Vesuvia and adopt a dog. Venere takes over her magic shop and Julian opens his clinic.

Their favourite moment is in the evening when, after a day of work, it’s finally time for a long, relaxing cuddle session. Julian wraps his arms around Venere and gives her one of his all-encompassing hugs and they snuggle on the sofa. They always say they’ll go to bed early but end up falling asleep like this.

RELATIONSHIP WITH OTHER CHARACTERS:

ASRA 

Complicated. Abandonment. Hurt. Mistakes. Easier to run, easier to avoid. She doesn’t understand. He doesn’t know how to explain.  The past is a heavy burden of memories forgotten and others that would have been best to let rest.  Only a half of what once was whole, but what has been broken cannot be repaired, you learn to live with what remains. You learn to live again.

Her relationship with Asra is very complicated.

There were a lot of hurt and misunderstandings. He kept disappearing without explanation and she never understood.

But the truth runs way, way deeper.

After everything is out in the open, they have many conversations.

After clearing up everything they share one of those incredibly rare and deep friendships.

They are family. They will always be there for each other and always root for each other happiness.

NADIA 

Loneliness. The princess is trapped at the top of the tower, but the dragon is in her head, the dragon is everywhere around her. Judging eyes, power struggles, impossible expectations, who can you trust? Elegance, perfectionism, strength, intuition. She is many things, but most of all she is Nadia. Most of all, she needs someone to see it.

Nadia is… Well, she is Nadia! She is awesome!

Venere’s first impression was of someone very lonely. Although a bit intimidated, she took a liking to her very quickly.

In time, they cultivate a very profound friendship.

They chat about magic, and Venere always knows who to ask for fashion tips. 

Most of all she knows who to turn to when she needs sound advice.

She has deep admiration for Nadia, she doesn’t know how someone can always look so perfect and in control and make appear so easy everything she does. But she is also there to remind Nadia that it’s okay to slip occasionally, and letting go sometimes feels good!

MURIEL 

Gentle, coy, reserved. Violent scars on a delicate soul. Does a tree make noise when it falls in the forest? It’s easier to forget but if everyone forgets, were you even ever there? Long silences can become deafening in loneliness. And yet, when you start to listen you realize there is so much more life around you. Small details you usually don’t catch. It’s always in the details.

Muriel and Venere have one of those friendships that don’t require many words. They are content to spend time together, enjoying each other company in a relaxed silence.

When Venere needs some reprieve, she knows she can accompany Muriel on his walks around the forest and she loves being immersed in nature.

Venere adores Inanna, she gives the best belly rubs to the best of girls.

They spend time enjoying the quiet of Muriel’s hut and he allows her to feed the chickens! One of Venere’s favourite activities.

If someone bothers Muriel, despite Venere being much, much smaller than him, she is the one to fly into a rage and put the offender in their place. Has anyone never told them not to provoke a magician?

Venere often comes to visit him and brings him lots of baked goods to taste. She is still learning to cook decently, so not everything comes out exactly as intended. He still eats everything without batting an eye, probably to be polite.

PORTIA 

Bubbly energy. Movement, flow, a tidal wave. Hunger for adventure, but she is always left behind. There is worth in the work you do but sometimes the work becomes all you are worth. There is more under the surface, you are allowed to slow down. You always have value.

Portia is Venere’s adopted little sister. She loves her energy and positivity and is always happy to pass the ball when Julian needs a good kick in the shin.

They have a book club now. They take it very seriously and religiously make time each week to sit down together to discuss stories and characters.

To the delight of Julian, Venere teaches her magic. He has a small panic attack when she accidentally sets a tree on fire. Luckily, Portia is an eager student and recovers very quickly without further fiery incidents.

In return, Portia tries to teach Venere to bake, with varying degrees of success. She is trying, okay? Luckily, most of her culinary experiments are still appreciated by Julian, Asra and Muriel.

When Portia feels like going on an adventure, she always knows who to call for. 

LUCIO 

Cold metal spikes all around. Hurt others before they can hurt him. Mistakes, regrets, there’s much to learn. Pride is always the mask shame wears, covering itself with sparkly meaningless. 

Let’s say that she doesn’t take well of Lucio hurting her loved ones. When she discovers what he did to Julian she is furious.

In an alternative universe, she would be more than happy to be his friend. She believes in second chances and respects his willingness to be better.

Lucio ends up relying a lot on her when he makes an “Opsie” and needs someone to help him fix it.

With time, he gets better at handling his mistakes and learns how powerful accountability can be.

She isn’t one for big parties, but the rare times she needs some tips on the subject she can always count on Lucio.

When she needs to let out some steam, she knows he is the guy to go to. He has always a good monster on the list ready to chase, or some other adventure to go, Portia can come too!

#Definitely not my highest writing moment but I had fun and that's the point - no? #vesuvia weekly #MC/LI dynamics #the arcana #the arcana game #julian devorak #ilya devorak #asra alnazar #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson #OC: Venere #the arcana headcanons #my wordy farts #my writing