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five-miles-over · 4 years

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‘Aftermath’ Chapter 12: History Has Its Eyes on You (Commodus x OC)

(image source: @attackofthesith)

Summary: Emperor Commodus finds a taste of paradise after a long time in his personal darkness. Meanwhile, Petronius and Philomenus take the biggest stand of their lives, determined to bring the republic back and honor the late Caesar.

Word Count: 2,414

Warning: Violence, angst, character death

Read Part 1: The Impossible Dream here

Read Part 2: Proud of Your Boy here

Read Part 3: Point of No Return here

Read Part 4: Look Down here

Read Part 5: Beneath a Moonless Sky here

Read Part 6: These Palace Walls here

Read Part 7: Wait For It here

Read Part 8: Something There here

Read Part 9: Be Prepared here

Read Part 10: Twisted Every Way here

Read Part 11: All I Ask of You here

Philomenus never wanted to run. At least that’s what he hoped that people would say when they told his story.

Approaching the Colosseum with daggers and gladii under his tunic, the centurion had never felt more alive that before. Philomenus kept thinking about how happy Claudia would be to raise their siblings in a republic, how delighted their deceased parents would be with their offspring, and how heroic he would stand in the face of his young twin brother and sister.

For someone who had never participated in a scheme before, deception came rather easily to him. With a few sweet words, Philomenus was able to charm one of the guards into leaving his post and surrendering his uniform. The disguise would definitely fool Commodus, he thought. The next guard would not let Philomenus pass so easily. Not after the centurion tripped and a knife fell from under his tunic with a loud clang. But one quick slash of his sword against the guard’s stomach cleared his way.

As of now, Petronius was the only one who knew about their joint plot, but they would reveal themselves as the assassins once Commodus breathed his last. The two of them would be publicly hailed as the ones who brought Rome back to her true self. The Senators would be eternally grateful to them, and they could all fearlessly honor the Spaniard who spent his life as a soldier of Rome. Finishing what he started, the centurion was confident that the soul of Maximus Decimus Meridius would finally rest in peace.

The thought of all this was enough for massive mounts of adrenaline to surge within Philomenus. He was going to be fighting for Rome in the biggest stand of his life, defending her honor as he would defend his own mother.

Petronius was right when he claimed yesterday that it was their responsibility, as comrades of the late Maximus, to exact revenge upon Commodus. The vile man had no regard for the value of human life, taking it as he pleased in the same way a child would throw around its toys. Patricide would have been the only way for Commodus to win the throne; surely Marcus Aurelius would never let his immoral son succeed him. Wisdom, justice, fortitude, and temperance…Commodus never had any of those things, and yet had the nerve to believe he deserved to become the protector of Rome. All because he was born into the household of the late Caesar!

Spitting into the ground with disgust, Philomenus clenched his jaw hearing the mob chant Commodus’s name from the seats of the Colosseum. And how Commodus would be happily eating up the attention like a dog eats from the bones thrown at him. The only thing that calmed the centurion’s wrath the knowledge that after tomorrow, that very name would be erased from the minds and tongues of Romans everywhere.

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The Emperor had a youthful glow upon his face when he entered the Imperial Box of the stadium. It was almost as if the Sun took a bit of its own brightness, and showered Commodus in it.

He had the most perfect morning after a long time. Rather than being disappointed by his nephew’s reluctance at breakfast, the emperor was amused by stories Prince Lucius narrated from his lessons. And instead of being agitated by a night terror, Commodus was awakened by kisses from his bride-to-be.

Wide-eyed with mildly-disheveled hair, Caesonia innocently brushed her lips along his arm. Blushing while his eyes fluttered open, Commodus held her closer and gently moved his fingers along her back. That glint in his eyes quickly turned lustful when his hand barely reached the curve of her derriere. After they realized the two of them were still naked from the night before, things quickly escalated into another session of sweet lovemaking.

If he closed his eyes now, he could still see her lying in his bed. Her shapely breasts rose and fell while she gasped for air post-coitus. The sheets barely covered the junction of her thighs, the rest of her body was drenched in sunlight and her limbs were sprawled across the mattress.

The mere sight of her looking at him so lovingly was alluring enough for Commodus to toy with the idea of spending a few more moments in bed. Though her presence was also the reason he didn’t loudly scold the guard who had come to fetch him.

Not taking his eyes off of his rose for a moment, he began to dress himself in a new set of black armor and silk purple robes. The emperor teased Caesonia that if he could not lay with his beloved one more time, then he ought to be permitted to gaze upon her beauty while he prepared to leave. Hiding her face for a moment, she giggled and hugged her knees close.

Delighted and enamored by her girlish laughter, Commodus gave her one of his togas to wear for the day. He had personally never cared for the garment, considering it fit for old men, but it seemed like the only thing in his wardrobe that a lady could wear. And the toga almost reminded Commodus of their first kiss. Caesonia wore a similar, coarser garment when they walked in the palace gardens and conversed together. He couldn’t believe that moonless evening was only a month ago; it felt as if it had been longer since then.

Murmuring her thanks, she accepted the toga, as well as his offer to help her put it on. Like young lovers, they exchanged pleasant small talk and spoke of their hopes of many more starlit nights together. Draping the silk around her slender form, Commodus pressed a kiss to her bare shoulder and requested for her to rest while he was gone. Now that she was going to be his Empress, he needed her to be healthy and in good condition to accompany him to the Games. At last, Lucilla’s chair would no longer be empty.

He wasn’t sure about how to introduce her to Lucius. His own nephew was only beginning to warm up to him, and Commodus was concerned about hurting the boy. Assuring himself that Lucius would be amicable with Caesonia, the emperor broke his fast with his nephew. The engaging conversation made the bread taste heartier, and the cheese more flavorful. He even drank less wine, usually turning to the drink in order to fill the silence. Perhaps there was hope for a new family to rid Commodus of his solitude, and shower him with the love that he yearned for so desperately.

And now, here he was, entering the Colosseum to thousands of people chanting his name with adoration. With a wave to the crowd, Commodus was confident that even the gods could not take his happiness away.

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“Look well into thyself; there is always a source of strength which will always spring up if thou wilt always look.”

Petronius nodded in approval. “Is that from one of Caesar’s writings?”

“Yes,” Philomenus replied, smiling with pride like a child who’d perfectly recited his lessons. “We should say something. Like, you know, before we strike.”

The centurion was immediately hushed by his accomplice. It was no secret to the general that announcing themselves was a stupid idea. “If we say too much now, then we may not get a chance to say anything else.” Moreover, Petronius had no interest in listening to words from someone who was reluctant to take action. He would not rest until Lucius Aelius Aurelius Commodus was dead.

Relenting, Philomenus slumped against the walls of the tunnel with his weapon in hand. “He’ll come here, right? Not anywhere else?”

“Yes,” Petronius gritted through his teeth, finding himself annoyed with the other man almost as much as he was annoyed by Senator Gaius. That old man kept bombarding him with rebuttals and offering no sympathy for Petronius’s view. Let them wait for Commodus to lose his sanity, he thought to himself, but I cannot. The people of Rome will not wait. Eyes burning with vengeance, the general kept his demeanor calm while his fingers became acquainted with the blade and hilt of one of Philomenus’s weapons.

Much like Philomenus, Petronius too had a sister who’d be waiting to congratulate him with open arms. But he knew that thoughts of her would be nothing but an obstacle in this quest of his. He needed to remain focused on what he wanted more than anything; the death of the man responsible for destroying Rome. Commodus needed to pay for what he’d done, and he could not bribe with bread and circuses for long.

The two men stood apart from each other at opposite sides of the tunnel. They hadn’t discussed how they planned to lunge at their target, or whether or not there would be many Praetorians there to stand in the way. Yet, perhaps Commodus would be sufficiently intoxicated by bloodshed, power, and attention from the Games, thus making it easier for him to be killed. Petronius hoped that such would be true, listening intently while the announcer commented on each event of the day.

Just when their knees began to feel the slightest hint of fatigue, the doors of the tunnel loudly swung open. A herald broke the silence, proclaiming that the Emperor of Rome was to arrive. This was it. This was the moment they’d been waiting for. This was…

“For Marcus Aurelius!!” Philomenus screamed, latching onto Commodus’s shoulder and slashing his sword against the emperor’s armor. Commodus stumbled backwards, taken aback by the sudden mention of his father’s name. Almost immediately, he commanded his Praetorians to take action. Petronius fought the three Praetorians that tried to capture him, disarming them with quick succession. The three of them fell to the ground with fatal wounds to their chests and legs.

Philomenus continued to duel with the infuriated Commodus, who’d effectively countered each and every blow the general launched. Despite Philomenus’s dagger being paltry against Commodus’s well-fashioned sword, the centurion stood his ground. “You will pay for what you’ve done, Commodus!” He yelled, defiantly calling the emperor by name.

Commodus said nothing in reply, instead using his might to push Philomenus against the wall and kick the centurion with his knee. Philomenus skillfully dodged Commodus’s attempts to stab him in the chest, continuing to taunt mercilessly.

Meanwhile, Petronius had managed to fend off the other Praetorians, even kicking one of them in the chest and sending him into the dust. His heart was pounding wildly like a war drum as he continued to attack the other guards standing in the tunnel.

One of them was able to snatch the weapon away from Petronius, kicking the general to the ground in the same way he’d kicked a Praetorian. Clenching his fists, Petronius spat at the guard and wiped his bleeding nose with a dead Praetorian’s purple cloak. He picked up a stray weapon and retaliated.

And Philomenus seemed to be using words more than swordplay with the emperor. “You’re nothing but a vile man! You’re nothing! Everyone who’s ever loved you has turned their backs on you!” Commodus continued to say nothing while lunging his attacks, instead resisting the urge to cut off his opponent’s tongue.

Philomenus kicked Commodus, sending him to the ground while the laurel crown fell off Commodus’s head. The emperor touched his own lip to find it bleeding profusely. With a snarl, he quickly stood back up and gripped his sword again. Only this time, he was attacked from behind by Petronius.

“This is your chance, Philomenus!” Petronius yelled while he ducked Commodus’s blows. Petronius raised his dagger, preparing to stab Commodus’s neck. Unfortunately, the centurion was too slow.

Commodus took advantage of Petronius’s fatigue, slashing the general’s ribs through the thin armor. And within the blink of an eye, Petronius collapsed dead.

The sheer sight of the general’s fall was too much to bear for Philomenus. Before Commodus could turn around, the centurion had sprinted off as if he were running from a fire. The emperor smeared Petronius’s blood onto his face, turning to valiantly face his surroundings like a lion asserting its territory.

Commodus didn’t know where the man known as “Philomenus” had gone, but he was too dizzy from this near-death experience to interrogate. He vowed to himself to punish that traitor appropriately…for now, though, the emperor fell to his knees and attempted to steady his breathing, so as not to black out from exertion.

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It was just a momentary fear, Philomenus told himself once he was far away from the stadium. He didn’t know what he was thinking, his legs pumping furiously as he ran out of the Colosseum. Rather, Philomenus did not even know if he was thinking in that moment.

Why would he run now, after thinking so long about how great things would be after Commodus was dead?

Marcus Aurelius would be disappointed, and so would his parents, but…perhaps Claudia would not be so angry. After all, wasn’t she the one who tried to dissuade him from his plan?

All he needed now was to get home before Commodus could send his men. Philomenus was not unaware of the treatment Maximus’s family received for Maximus’s insubordination. If not the last, his family would not be the next one in Commodus’s reign of terror.

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Thank the gods I sent Lucius home with Senator Falco as an escort. Commodus swallowed hard while he watched his nephew go to his chamber without a care in the world, knowing nothing about the attempt on his uncle’s life. He knew the prince wanted to become independent of his family, but Commodus of all people had just witnessed what happens when royals begin to let down their guard.

With a glare, the emperor ordered one of the Praetorians in the palace to bring his betrothed to him and then immediately lock the doors. His cold gaze burned into her skin as she carefully approached him and wiped the blood off his face.

Commodus’s inner demons convinced him that there was an equal chance of a surprise assassination attempt as there was of a deceitful bride-to-be. On any other day, he wouldn’t believe those voices. But this was no ordinary day - had he been careless, Rome would be left without a protector. And he would have left his children without a father.

Gripping her hand and digging his nails into her skin, Commodus ordered her in a shaky yet steely voice.

“Disrobe, now.”

#commodus #emperor commodus #gladiator fic #gladiator au #gladiator 2000 #commodus thirst squad

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mymelodyheart · 4 years

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Highland Destiny Chapter 15 ~The Road Trip~

Jamie was surprised to discover that Claire was a light traveller. She produced a duffel bag, a laptop case and her everyday tote bag, even though he had told her they would be travelling in a campervan, the distillery's promotional tour carrier. He thought his choice of transport was a perfect way for Claire to see the Highland's countryside and to allow her to rest when the necessity arises, albeit the distance from Inverness to the Isle of Skye was more or less two and a half hours drive.

After Claire's admission to her feelings, there was a notable air of constraint and shyness on her part, and Jamie attempted to ease the awkwardness by giving her a quick tour inside the Frisealach distillery before retrieving the campervan from the compound. So he was moved to see her eyes lit up when she stepped inside the vehicle, her earlier discomfiture forgotten.

Standing close by, he heard her gasped as she took in the interior open-mouthed. Inside was a fully equipped kitchen with hidden nooks and cabinets for storage, a comfortable upholstered living space, a TV area, a mini wardrobe and shower compartment.

"Oh my word, Jamie!" she gushed, looking at him wide-eyed, before proceeding to open cupboards for brief inspections and touch the smooth surfaces of the kitchenette. "This is so luxurious...it's like a proper house. Goodness, I can live here...it has everything."

Coming from behind, he wrapped his arms around her, loving the feel of her warmth. "Ye like it, Sassenach?" he whispered, burying his face into her freshly washed hair.

"Like it? Are you serious? I love it! I have been on the road so many times with uncle Lamb...but this," she whistled under her breath, throwing her hands in the air at awe. "...this is something else. Good Lord, back then we slept under the stars or in a tent and travelled in jeeps or four-wheel drives when work took uncle Lamb to North Africa. The nearest thing to luxury we had was spoon and fork." she recounted chuckling, clasping the arms around her.

Without letting go, Jaime gently guided Claire to the back, reaching out to slide the trifold door in front of her, unveiling the sleeping quarters. "Ye can sleep here Sassenach if the journey gets too much for ye. I read somewhere that pregnant women need plenty of sleep," he explained matter-of-factly.

Claire blinked and let out an "Oooh" at the sight of the king-size berth, one hand flying to her mouth, as her face turned crimson. "Oh, my God! This bed is massive...you will be able to actually fit in it without your feet hanging at the edge."

He laughed. "We can both fit in it...want to try?" It fascinated him that Claire could still blush at a sight of a bed despite the fact she was pregnant with their baby.

Detaching herself from Jamie, Claire quickly scrambled onto the mattress, loving the feel and smell of the clean, crisp bed linen underneath. "Definitely huge enough!" she confirmed giggling as she rolled from one end of the bed to the other, delighted, like a child in a candy store.

Jamie followed suit and laid on his back, turning his head to face her. "Och aye...it's definitely big enough! Actually, I've never slept in here before...we've only used the campervan when we're doing tours across the country...ye ken...promotional kinds of stuff." He bounced his weight lightly, testing the spring beneath him. "It's actually kinda comfy."

Claire rolled onto her tummy and edged closer to Jaime. Beaming with joy, she leaned forward to give him a quick peck on the lips. "Love it!" she said, smiling.

Before Jamie can put his arms around her, she was already up on her feet, hands reaching out to pull him up. "C'mon soldier, show me the Highlands."

..........

It was late afternoon by the time Jamie and Claire hit the road, but there was still plenty of daylight left to enjoy the scenery. Although partly cloudy, the Spring weather held up despite the forecast of light rain, which was unusual for that time of year in the northern part of Scotland. They had made a pit stop earlier to buy snacks and drinks to fill the mini-fridge for their journey at a village supermarket, and Jamie was amused when Claire grabbed a box of frozen ice cream cones.

"Don't ye think it's still too cold for ice cream, Sassenach?" he had asked playfully as they were checking out at the til.

"Definitely not!" she clucked, nodding in approval of her edible acquisition. "Everyone knows that ice cream is worth the trouble of being cold. Like all things virtuous, you have to suffer to gain the reward."

He laughed, retracting on his earlier statement. "Och, ye dinna need to worry about the cold. I promise ye, it will be nice and warm in the camper."

Jamie noticed the change in Claire's food choices. Usually, an advocate for healthy eating, opting for loads of greens and fruits, he noted her preference of late was more of a sweet fare. There was too a certain glow about her since leaving the hospital earlier, her recent ordeal blotted out of mind, or so it seemed. The pallor on her cheeks from the day before was replaced with a healthy flush, making her recovery quite a remarkable turnaround. Joe had warned him that there could be a delayed reaction to her trauma, but so far so good, Claire seemed fully recuperated.

The weeks that had followed after the charity ball had been like hell for Jamie and ever since Claire was back, he had been trying his utmost best to slow it down for her sake, until that minor hiccup with the engagement ring. He realised it was proving to be a difficult commitment as his senses were permeated by everything that was Claire, being very close together on this trip, and his hands having a mind of their own, tend to reach out and touch her whenever she was near. He wanted her so badly but was afraid he could jeopardise her recovery. Damn Christie! Instead, he focused on pointing out the sceneries and landscapes they passed on the road, telling her stories of Scotland's past and the battle of Culloden hoping that would be enough to quelch his mounting yearning.

..........

True to his words, the inside of the camper van was very warm once they were on the road, and Claire and Jamie had quickly changed into something more comfortable before setting off. Claire for once wished she had something more alluring to wear, instead of her well worn and shabby jean shorts and an over-sized red-black flannel shirt. Growing up, Claire rarely shopped for clothes, and when the opportunity did arise, her choice was always practical and comfortable. For some reason, it did cross her mind that Jamie must think she was scruffy and dowdy. Although still attentive and caring, Claire couldn't help but noticed Jamie's demonstrativeness was more subdued than usual. Maybe he's disgusted with all the sugary junk food I'm eating! Suddenly feeling annoyed with herself, she tried to dismiss her thoughts as a silly rumination of a hormonal pregnant woman, and instead, she directed her attention on the trip.

The camper was already moving when she finally took her seat next to Jamie. As she sat down, Jamie gave her a glance over, his eyes lingering on her bare legs. Noticing his gaze, she felt conscious of her clothes. "It's uncle Lamb's shirt, and it's comfortable," she explained defensively, as she looked down her front, unwittingly fidgeting and tugging at the hem of her top.

Smiling, he reached out and squeezed her thigh. "Sassenach, you look beautiful more than ever," he said softly and sincerely.

Lightening up, she smiled back at him and settled to enjoy the countryside views.

She loved listening to Jamie talked so passionately about Scotland as he pointed at glens and mountains he had trekked and told her stories and myths of standings stones and cairns. He was at his most element whenever he spoke of his country's history and culture, his sky blue eyes lighting up when he answered her curiosities. Claire had always loved travelling, and being on the road with Jamie had brought back memories of her childhood adventures with uncle Lamb.

"I'm really looking forward to seeing Skye, especially now that you've told me all these wonderful stories," she mused, feeling grateful for the trip.

"Weel, I was thinking, since ye've had a long day, we should stop for the night near Eilean Donan Castle. I know we're not too far from Skye, but there's this place I'd like ye to see. I ken ye will love it Sassenach," he suggested with his comical wink, making her laugh.

"I'm quite sure I will," she agreed, smiling. All of a sudden, craving for something sugary, she offered, "Want some icecream? I know it's dinner time soon, but I really fancy something sweet."

Jamie grinned. "No, ye go ahead Sassenach. I can't be eating and driving at the same time. I'll do."

Claire quickly got up from her seat to get the frozen coned ice cream from the fridge. She had been hankering for some sweet treat ever since they set off and had tried to suppress it, having had her few shares of puddings in the last 24 hours. The craving had won, and she didn't care anymore.

Settling back, she peeled off the wrapping from her treat and bit a big chunk from the top, her eyes closing as the sweetness filled her mouth. It was vanilla ice cream with chocolate covering on the top. Sensing Jamie's eyes on her, she blushed. "Want some? It's delicious!" she offered, extending her arm to let him have a taste.

Jamie just shook his head and stared for a long time.

"Jamie watch the road!" she cautioned. "What's with you?" Her hands went to her mouth, thinking she was covered with ice cream.

He blinked and turned his focus on the road again. "Och, sorry, Sassenach..."

Thinking Jamie's scrutiny had something to do with her mouth being smothered in a sticky mess, she got up to get some wet wipes. Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ, I must look like a hodgepodge of grubbiness! As she was about to return to her seat, she was surprised the camper van had halted, and the ignition turned off.

"Jamie, is everything alright? Why are we stopping?" she asked as she looked out the window. She noticed they were parked at the lay-by.

She glanced up as she saw Jamie leave the driver seat. "Jamie is something the matter?" she asked, concerned, noticing a funny look on his face.

He walked over, his eyes dark as the ocean blue. "No, Sassenach, I'm not alright," he replied hoarsely, openly appraising the sight of her like she was some forbidden fruit, the movement of his Adam's Apple visible. "I ken ye want to take things slow, but I'm dying inside from wanting ye. If I don't have ye now, I'm going to implode."

"W-Wot?" She stared at him, shocked.

He continued to stare at her, his eyes penetrating and his face a picture of yearning. "I want ye, Claire. Will ye have me...now?"

Transfixed, Claire dropped the packet of wet wipes and ice cream cone from her hands and licked her lips as she felt her mouth go dry. Just one look had always been what it took, and she was lost forever in those azure abyssal depths. Something primal took over her, and she could feel a delicious heat scattering from her core, like tiny fiery sparks igniting every nerve and particle alight. She couldn't speak, so instead, with unintentional slowness and shaking hands, Claire unbuttoned her flannel shirt as she watched his eyes strayed lower to the visible bare skin.

Without waiting for a further invitation, and in one deft movement, Jamie pulled her to him, his tongue parting her mouth, probing and teasing, savouring the taste of her. "Christ, ye taste of vanilla and chocolate," he muttered in her lips, as he licked the residual sweet off its corners, before trailing kisses along her jawline and nipping her earlobe. Impatiently he pushed her top down from her shoulders, and with dexterous fingers, he unfastened her jean shorts, sending them sliding down the floor.

Spellbound, Claire twined her arms around his neck as he lifted her from behind her thighs. She could feel him hot and hard, throbbing against her, and instinctively, she slithered her body, rubbing herself against him, making him groan and his abs clench. He laid her down onto the bed, and she watched him pull down her lace panties too eagerly, accidentally ripping the seam of one side. They paused, looking at the torn fabric and then at each other. "What's with your promise of making verra slow love to me?" she teased, trying to imitate his accent.

"We're not in Skye in yet, Sassenach," he answered, a lopsided grin slowly spreading across his face. Then he ripped the other side with a quick, sharp tug, making her squeak in surprise.

Jamie quickly shed his shirt, sweatpants and his boxer shorts, his eyes never leaving hers. Completely naked, he laid between her thighs, spreading them wider apart. Before she knew what he was doing, he pulled her by the waist to hook her legs on his shoulders and to cup her arse with both hands, raising her to kiss her most intimate part. She felt his tongue dart along the folds of her slippery cleft and holding her breath, she clutched tightly on the bed covers as a moan passed her lips. His tongue skimmed and dipped, savouring the taste of her, as one long arm reached to rub her nipples with the palm of a hand, before teasing it with circular motions with his forefinger. She thrashed and gyrated while holding his head firmly between her legs with one hand as one climax rolled after another, propelling soul-shattering spasms to spread through her body.

Her whimpers were hushed by his kiss, and she could taste herself in his mouth. Releasing her lips, he whispered, "Open yer eyes Sassenach and look at me." She did as she was told as he pinned her arms above her head, his eyes lusty and dark. His cock slid inside slowly, stretching her and making her back arch to embrace a renewed assault. He began to thrust rhythmically, one hand raising her arse for deeper penetration, his breathing fast and hot on her neck. His strokes were hard and powerful as he slammed into her over and over again, her legs wrapped tight around his waist. They stared into each other's eyes as their adjoining bodies moved to the beat of their pounding hearts, faster and faster. As he felt her tremble and tighten around him, he picked up speed, lowering his head to kiss her hungrily, plunging deeper and grinding harder. Another powerful thrust and Jamie found his own release, arching his back with a loud grunt before settling gently on top of her.

..........

The hard-won intimacy of their lovemaking had eased the sexual tension that had been building between Jamie and Claire. Whatever uncertainty or hesitancy they had before their trip, it had all dissipated, and it was like a rebirth for their blossoming relationship.

It was already dark when they arrived in a small village of Torridon, and they found a place to stay for the night in a private cottage managed by the village inn. It was called The Boat House, and it owed its name to its proximity to the water's edge overlooking the loch. Claire couldn't wait till morning to see the view as she caught partial glimpses of the lake and surrounding forest in darkness.

Tired and hungry, they made their way to the inn for some nourishment, giggling like a couple of teenagers as they took their seats in a semi-crowded pub. They were oblivious to their surroundings and had only eyes for each other, their minds far from the ordeal that happened less than 24 hours ago. Even the worry of Claire's pregnancy was replaced with optimism and hope as they talked about the future and discussed names for their unborn child. They held each other's hand as Jamie told stories of Lallybroch and of his sister, absorbed in each other's company that they didn't see the approaching figure towards their table.

It was only when a shadow fell upon them that they both looked up, Claire's face turning into one shock astonishment.

"Hello there...my name is Stephen Bonnet an' ah've cum ter collect me missus," drawled an amused voice in a thick broad Irish accent.

"Stephen!"

"Sassenach???"

#melodyheart #highlanddestiny #Claire Beauchamp/Jamie Fraser #outlanderfanfic

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elysialm · 1 year

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sp00kworm · 7 years

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Resurgence (Castlevania: LoS fanfiction) Chapter Three

Summary: The infected and followers of Satan have all been extinguished. Monsters are a rarity and the world seems to teeter on the thin line of peace. The world has rebuilt itself after the night of chaos and death, and life has returned to some sort of normality with people having long since returned to work and running through the daily routine of life. The Prince of Darkness, however, has been cooped up in his Castle, slowly falling between the lines of reality and memory as he looses his grip on his own mind. What will the finding of a chest amongst the rubble do for his sanity? Perhaps a revelation is what he needs in order to regain his grip on the reality of the world.

A03 Link

Chapter 2 Chapter 4

The Brotherhood of Light

Dracul was remarkably amazed by how quickly the woman could move. It had been only a number of seconds, and she was quickly blending with the crowds, and more or less, out of sight. So, he deigned to follow her smell. The scent of lavender, incense and old paper cajoled him to follow her. A strange reminder of his love long past. Marie would tuck lavender into the wardrobe and linen closets, and the scent of it wafted where ever she roamed. He ducked into an alley, leaning against the wall as she came to a halt in front of a vendor's stall. The old woman stood behind the counter smiled at her fondly, asking her about her day. It seemed the girl came often, and was a regular customer. Dracula watched, peering around the brick of the wall, as the old lady fussed over her forehead, offering her a cream to take down the swelling. The woman politely declined but asked for a bunch of Sunflowers and Irises. The requested bunch was made up, and she took them, giving the elder a paper bill before walking away, the flowers clutched close to her chest. The fragrance of the flowers mixed with her underlying smell and The Dragon cursed, curling his nose at the overly floral scent as he continued behind her.

Her next stop was to pick up some supplies from a large commercial shop. Following her in, he was overwhelmed by the intensity of the artificial bright white light that illuminated the store. Squinting, he watched her flit through the aisles, basket in hand, as she chose fruit and vegetables from the shelves and a few other products, none of which he actually knew, before making her way to the checkout, her purse in hand. Just as suddenly as she had moved, she stopped and shivered. A ripple of panic ran through him as he figured out the best way to blend into the crowd. Turning into a horde or rats or a writhing cloud of blood to possess someone was not really advisable in such an open, public place- panic was the last thing he needed to start. So he opted for the easier option. Moving closer to a woman with her small child, he tapped the mother's shoulder to get her attention.

The woman was young, but well old enough, at least when he was a man, to have birthed a few children. He smiled, his teeth gleaming as she looked into his shinning eyes. That was her mistake. In a matter of moments her face went slack as she fell under his will. Red eyes gleaming, he laughed pulling her closer to him by the waist. She obliged and quickly, he willed her to laugh too.

“I am your husband, this is our son. What I just told you was funny, laugh.” And, like a robot, she began to laugh. The sound was shrill to his ears, but he grinned chuckling. Leaning forward, he looked into the pram she had with her. The child was blissfully sleeping, his chubby little hands fisted into the blanket wrapped around him. A small spark of feeling reverberated through him. This was something he and Trevor had never shared, and never would. The boy was far too old now, bordering on nearly one thousand. Not exactly the perfect age to be coddling him at. And even if he did take to trying, the boy would be quick to shove at him or hiss and storm out, much like a teenager now he thought about it. He snorted at the thought.

Dracula bowed his head as the woman he had been following appeared at the top of the isle, her eyes scanning the crowds with a frown. She seemed to feel something, though she would have never have guessed the Prince of Darkness was following her around. She paced the length of the isle and Dracul kept his head down, the girl at his waist muttering to him about her day as he picked up items off the shelf and eyed them. Bright, vibrant colours assaulted his vision and he found his nose crinkling in distaste as the products screamed artificial ingredients. His female pursuer was quick to return to her own devices with a final shiver running down her spine, and Dracula found himself sighing lightly, a human gesture, as she retreated from her search. The girl he had his arm wrapped around giggled and leant closer into him, and an old couple cooed from the end of the isle, watching them snuggle and laugh. He groaned internally. It seemed he'd have to pull this show off for a little longer, as not to arouse suspicion.

He managed to grab what the woman required for her shopping. Most of it was bottle formula and some soft baby foods, but it was tedious and painful on the eyes none the less. Brightly coloured brands stuck out of plastic bags as he loaded her pram up, still laughing and smiling like a fool. It didn't take him long to wave his hand in front of her face and release the trance once they were comfortably out of the range of prying eyes. The young mother's face fell slack once more and he whispered a few words before striding away and into an alley. As though suddenly awakened, the girl snapped her head up and groaned, holding her head. Dracula watched as she looked around, slightly startled before checking her pram and baby. Content nothing was harmed, if not somewhat confused, she pushed the buggy down the road and left, cooing at her baby as she went. He was just in time to watch the brunette he had been following step out of the large superstore, a single plastic bag in hand.

The girl was quick to walk away from the shop, her movements swift like a fox as she weaved in and out of people like the cunning creature would do the undergrowth. The spring in her step drove her further and quicker than most, and Dracula had to rely on his nose more often than not as she eluded him through the hoards of people. Her sweet, cozy scent was easy enough to pin point amongst the grime and overpowering wafts of grease and sickly sweet perfumes. His nose led him right up to her back at one point, his eyes failing to register her as he approached her back. She had tensed and peered over her shoulder, but he had reacted faster, moving like a shadow, sprinting through the crowd before she could even fully turn her eyes to look. Dracul had cursed her alluring scent at that point, and the memories it had brought back, rekindling a strange warmth he reserved for his long lost love, deep within the vault of his heart. His curiosity was not quelled when she finally came to a halt outside an rather large apartment block, on the outskirts of the Downtown area of the city, close to the Arts District.

The girl swiped a card in the magnetic lock and typed in a pass code before the door beeped, and she pulled it open with a small huff, stepping inside. Dracula watched with gleaming red irises as she disappeared from his view. Closing his eyes, he could still pick up her lingering scent, intoxicating and haunting at the same time. Carefully, he focused his senses, looking up to the floors of the block, waiting for a light to turn itself on. Sure enough, on the sixth floor, a large window lit up with yellow light. He could clearly hear her sigh and throw her bags down before she appeared in the glass pane, pulling the thick, gold embroidered curtains closed. After that his inhuman senses were somewhat impaired, though he could still clearly hear the giggles and gasps coming from the second floor. Other than that, he could hear little of the activity going on in her home.

Dracula strode out of the small alley he had situated himself in, just across the street from the building the woman had strode into. His boots, shorter and more suitable for the time, clicked as he walked out and into the rode before crossing. A lone car passed every now and then, but this side of the city was relatively deserted at this time in the night. Most workers had gotten home to their families, or were at work for the night shifts. A dark eyebrow rose as he looked up at the building. The magnetically locked doors were a no entry, so he paced around the corner, looking for a suitable fire escape to climb up. Sure enough, there was a wrought iron ladder and stairs system,that lead up and onto the roof of the building, painted black and peeling from years of misuse and lack of tending. Dracula found himself grinning as he strode over to the ladder. It was a small task to tug it down from it clipped position on the rusty balcony. The metal fell with a 'slick', orange rust on orange rust as it fell and met the pavement with a clang. Dracul was quick to ascend the ladder and pull himself up onto the small balcony with little effort. Inquisitively, he peered upwards, leaning over the balcony railing to get a look upwards. Nobody had heard him, or if they had, they hadn't taken the time to look out of their window. If he were human, he would have let out a sigh of relief. Moving onwards, he quickly pulled himself up the rungs of the ladders and reached the balcony just below the girl's window.

Silently, he moved against the side of the building and peered around the window frames. Any sort of crack could be used to get into the apartment. He found none. Frustrated, Dracula stepped back and looked for another way in. An air conditioning unit hummed quietly in the wall, the fan beating as it sucked cool night air into the room. A grin crept onto his lips as he spread his arms wide, as though welcoming an embrace. The sound of laughter from inside the woman's apartment caught him off guard.

“And so I told her she could go find someone else to do her paper work, maybe someone who actually gave a fuck.” He heard her voice ring as clear as a bell.

“Language. So what then? Has she been harassing you for weeks? My poor baby.” Another burst of laughter lit a fire of rage in his belly. Dracul focused his hearing on the conversation, a strange sensation churning deep in his stomach. Something he was not accustomed to, and did not like.

“Marie. No one is going to take you away from me. You're the only girl for me I promise.” The words were sickly sweet and brought bile up and into his throat. Dracula found his claws curling into the white paint of the window sill. Marie. Her name. He felt sick. Her laughter tinkled in the air.

“Oh shut it you. Eat your dinner. If it goes cold I wont be making you any more. You'll go to work hungry.” She chuckled once more and the man with her joined in, his voice was hardened, but light.

“I suppose I better eat this and then head off to the vaults. They've been having a lot of trouble down there recently.” She gave out a sigh through her nose and Dracula perked his ears. The Vaults were not a place he knew of.

“Promise me you'll be careful? I may just get to read papers all day, but I'm not sheltered enough to know that its dangerous down there. The monsters down there are not child's play.” The man gave out a sigh and drew her close, clothing rustling as she was grappled closer to him.

“I promise okay love? Don't go worrying yourself. I promised Victor I wouldn't go dying on him, but look at what he went and got himself into. Dead in the street. That monster didn't even look at him twice before he took off.” His voice was dark, dangerous and Dracula's attention was captured despite his disgust and anger. So the child knew Victor. This definitely deserved a little more investigation. Marie said no more about the matter and Dracul deigned himself to be quiet. So he sat on the balcony with his anger, seething as a strange feeling coiled around him and churned deep within his heart.

The boy she was with left not half an hour later, but the young man's motives and investments were not worth wasting his evening over just yet. As before, Dracula spread his arms wide, whipping himself into a cloud of red streaked black mist. His mist form floated effortlessly through the air conditioning fan and flew into the room, sucked unceremoniously into the small sitting area like an insect would be. He could hear Marie humming in the kitchen and the clatter of dishes as she washed the plates used at dinner. Reforming himself Dracula quickly moved into the shadowy closet she had. The shelves were stacked with books and various films. Stacks of albums swayed as his coat brushed the towers. Focusing, his body was quick to shift and morph. The towers of DVDs and CDs got larger as he shrunk down into a rat. When his bones finally finished cracking into place, Dracula gave his spine a stretch, his small clawed feet pushed forward and his pink coloured tail curling close to his torso. Quickly and quietly, he then scuttled out of the small cupboard and into the open living area.

Dracul had last used this ridiculous rat form when he'd been creeping around the heavily armoured, if not somewhat stupid, trigger happy guards the acolytes used to disintegrate all those who tried to interfere with their plans. He knew first hand how much those plasma guns hurt. Having the side of your torso blown off with one and having to heal the bones, organs and flesh was a painful process. One he didn't want to go through again. Then again, having stake after stake thrust into your body was just as bad, and well, that had failed to kill him all those years ago. His wet nose twitched as he scampered across the wooden flooring, and peered around the corner of the wall to look upon his lost love's beauty. Again, he was mystified. Her hair was loose, falling in loose chestnut waves to her waist. She'd shed her blouse and skirt and had a loose, white silk night gown on instead. The material fell in ripples over her curves and it was hard to deny her likeness to his long past wife. A thin gold chain clinked around her throat as she placed another dish onto the rack to dry. Looking closer, a small rose hung on the end of it, the petals made up of deep blue sapphires with gold inlaying holding them in place. As she hummed, Marie's dark eyes twinkled with warmth and Dracula found himself remembering the cold evenings they would spend together in front of the hearth, when the snow was too deep and the blizzards too cold for Gabriel to go off into the wilderness. Her eyes and her singing were always the things to chase away his dark moods.

Dracul crawled closer to her, his furry belly close to the tiles as he crept along. Her singing paused for a moment and she looked around, her thin eyebrows furrowed as she shivered. Every time he came close to her, she shivered almost as though she could sense his presence. It was something he did not know how to feel about. Was it because of his power or because of his simple presence in the home of someone so pure? He could not be sure, but it didn't stop him from creeping ever closer, watching with beady red eyes as she returned to her task. It didn't take her long to finish the dishes. Marie was quick to wipe her hands on a towel before flicking the light off and moving into the living area, before continuing into a study room of sorts. He scampered through the door behind her, careful to avoid brushing up against the bare skin of her legs. She shut the door too, just behind his tail and then made her way over to a large, dark wood desk against the window in the room. Papers rustled as she flipped through the pages and piles on top of the desk. Humming still, she picked up her portfolio case. The black material bag was something he remembered her carrying when he bumped into her on the crossing. Once unzipped, she carefully pulled out a number of large scrolls, all bound with dirtied ribbons, the parchment brown and ripped in places. They were definitely old writings. Yet, he found himself intrigued, and Dracula moved closer to her chair, trying to get a look at the wax on the bound scrolls, holding them closed.

Many of them were simply bound with coloured ribbons, tied neatly in bows around the brown rolled papers. Marie pulled a number of them out of the bag, and Dracula squinted his small rat eyes to catch a glimpse of a very familiar seal. The curled ends of the cross, intricate and sleek, were all too well known to him. Those scrolls belonged to the Brotherhood of Light. He felt his already cold blood run colder as the news settled over him. A permanent frost settled itself over him. Not again. The brotherhood had already claimed Marie from him once. His human son had been turned against him, brainwashed and turned into a stone cold killer. They had betrayed him and ripped everything he held dear, forcefully from his life. The angelic glow of Marie's spirit confronting him on his journey flashed before his eyes. “Oh god no. Please no.” He'd been betrayed at every corner. He would not allow for them to take her from him again. Her involvement with the Brotherhood would end her in time, and it was not something he could live with. She would not be ripped away from him again. Not this time.

Gazing upon her once more, the rat form he had taken moved, and turned, heading back to the door. His tiny claws scratched against the laminate flooring. Stealthily, he squeezed through the small gap between the door and the frame, and made haste towards the large wooden door of the apartment. His small rodent ears twitched, spinning on his head as he listened. She was still rustling her papers. Focusing his energy, he shifted himself back into his normal form, his eyes glittering like rubies as his blood reshaped itself, folding back over and over, weaving in and out until he was in his normal shape once more. Dracula did not make a sound as he fell apart into smoke, moving under the door and into the corridor. He reformed himself and scowled, clenching his fists as memories assaulted his mind.

A roaring fire crackled in the hearth as the wind howled outside. It wasn't winter, nor particularly cold, but Marie was more susceptible to chills and drafts than himself. He'd spent many winters outside in the training grounds and scouring mountain tops for Manticore and Wyverns. The two had been wed that morning, spending the afternoon and most of the evening laughing, dancing and feasting until Marie's father could barely stand. A smile curled his lips upwards as he looked down at Marie. She was snuggled against his side, drinking in his warmth and the solidarity Gabriel provided. The blue roses she adored so much had been weaved into her hair, the fragrance was sweet and subtle. Leaning down, Gabriel pressed a kiss to her forehead. She hummed contently but opened her eyes, the reflection of the flames dancing across them. He smiled down at her softly.

“It is our wedding night Gabriel yet you press innocent kisses to my forehead.” Her lips curled into a devilish grin and Gabriel found it hard not to smash his lips to hers right then and there. He chuckled instead, leaning backwards slightly so she could not pull him down for a kiss.

“And here I thought you enjoyed my attention Marie, it seems I was wrong.” She gently ran her hand up, across the expanse of his thick muscled chest, curling her fingers into the material of the thin cotton shirt he usually wore under his armour. Her eyes were positively smouldering as she looked up at him once more.

“Oh I like your attention Gabriel.” She grinned draping herself across his lap, “But I would prefer those kisses to be on my lips.” Gabriel let out a low growl, pulling her face up before their lips met in a passionate embrace. Tenderly, Gabriel caressed Marie's face, cupping her cheeks before running the palms down and over her waist. He quickly tugged her closer, hooking an arm through her legs and the other around her back before he effortlessly carried her over to the bed. Dropping her down,petals scattering from her locks, he was quick to cover her with the weight of his body.

A low growl ran through him as he thought of what he had lost, and what he could now loose once more. He would not have his love taken from him again. Opening his blood red eyes, he opened his palm and summoned his void powers. Cold mist curled from the freezing palm of his hand, and he watched as the dark blue petals of a rose formed, growing as a lighter coloured ice stem pushed the flower up. The dark ice glittered like a jewel as his pale fingers gripped the icy stem. Tenderly, he knelt down and placed the flower down outside of her door. The void created ice would not melt. It was only shattered in powerful running water and by very much alive and moving enemies. Shards of glass like ice were sprinkled around the winter rose and he let a small smile creep onto his face. Dracula knocked three times on the door before he walked around the corner, and waited.

Sure enough, Marie opened the door, her nightwear covered by a long black dressing gown. She peered from side to side, confused, before she looked down. Her eyes widened as she picked the rose up off of the ground. Two fingers rotated the winter flower around between the icy thorns. She marvelled at the rose for a moment before she clutched it close to her breast, smiling gently as she went back inside and closed the door behind her.

Dracul rounded the corner, descending the stairs two at a time as he continued down to the bottom floor. The magnetically locked door opened with the simple press of a button and the vampire moved out into the cool night air, a strange swell in his heart thundering through him. Peering up at the sky, he almost felt like sighing. The moon was full and round, the stars twinkling against a canvas of dark, midnight blue. The night was in full swing, and in no more than a few hours, dawn would start to creep across the horizon. Peering back at the sixth floor, he watched the lights of the apartment click off for the night. Turning back to the street, he memorised the road and area, committing it to memory so he could navigate back to the apartment building. Before he headed home he needed to feed, but he found the hunger somewhat repressed as his body thrummed with excitement and a bursting feeling of affection. It was something he had not felt in centuries. Turning on his heels, he stepped into an alley before summoning his darkened angelic wings. Beating them three times he was high in the air, soaring over the city.

Dracula's cold heart seemed to beat inside his chest once more as a tender smile softened his features, and turned his lips upwards in a genial smile as the wind ruffled his hair and billowed his clothing.

#castlevania #castlevania lords of shadow #castlevania: lords of shadow #los #castlevania Los #dracula #alucard #chupacabra #trevor belmont #belmont #gabriel belmont #dracula x marie #marie belmont #marie #gabriel x marie #satan #demons

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nicholsonondress65-blog · 4 years

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Exactly how to Wear a Denim Jacket

hoodies for men took Levi Strauss a years after producing the globe's first jeans to recognize that the material that functioned so well to outfit a man's reduced half, likewise functioned wonderfully to equip his top half also. The modern male need not take so long to make that jump. Jeans not only makes for some of the best-looking as well as easy-wearin' pants, it additionally makes for a sturdy and handsome coat. 140 years after very first outfitting males who dealt with cattle ranches as well as railways, the jean jacket continues to function as useful, reduced maintenance outerwear; its durable product offers decent security to one's arms and torso, does not crease, takes a whipping, as well as lasts for the long haul. Light in weight, it's a great coat for those just-a-bit-chilly days that mark the seasons of spring and also autumn. With joggers and also a structure that normally tapers to the waistline, the denim jacket likewise produces an extra masculine shape and also contributes to the visual allure that arises from layering in ways that faintly echo a sporting activities jacket, yet with a completely different vibe-- casual, defiant, oppositional-to-the-suits. Thrown over a tee shirt, it quickly includes a great deal more interest to an otherwise fundamental outfit. Given these possessions in function as well as type, why are individuals frequently reluctant to make what is truly an instead straightforward staple of menswear component of their closet? The reality that the denim jacket is related to miners, cowboys, truck drivers, and also rockers contributes to its nonconforming appeal, however at the very same time, people may fret that its cool and also challenging heritage may not rest pleasantly on their shoulders; they don't desire to resemble a would-be or have actually the jacket come off as "costumey." They additionally don't desire to appear like a hipster that's trying as well tough to carry the principles of blue collar workwear. If they're still in design, or perhaps a fella just associates the jacket with the 1980s and also questions. Well, fortunately is that these problems needn't be a concern: a denim jacket can suit a male whether he turns a hammer or slaughters a guitar, can be adopted in a manner that's both natural as well as sharp, and when worn well, will constantly be, no matter the decade, continually in style.

Picking a Denim Jacket

Regardless of the period, the denim coat remains a sweet sartorial staple. If you would certainly such as to add a denim jacket to your wardrobe, picking one boils down to assuming regarding two main qualities: fit and color. While jeans coats are available in a range of shades nowadays, blue is one of the most traditional and versatile. Of blue jackets, their "procedure" ranges together with the washes of their jeans. All jean coats are naturally very informal, yet one made with a dark clean jeans will certainly be a little "dressier," while one with a light laundry denim will certainly be the really the majority of informal. A tool wash sits right between and is perhaps your finest choice-- it's flexible, classic-looking, and also soft.

What to Wear With a Denim Jacket

Jeans jackets aren't functional in the means sports jackets are-- unlike the last, they can not be spruced up or down to meet the demands of almost every dress code. While some really fashion-forward sartorialists will certainly put a jean coat over an outfit t-shirt and tie (and also also a waistcoat), the contrast in between the a lot more formal underlayer and also the really laid-back outerwear is too jarring to produce an excellent appearance. The one rule you've probably found out about using a jean coat is to never ever do "double jeans"; that is, you shouldn't put on a denim jacket on top of denim jeans. The result of this pairing is what's called the "Canadian coat," named after a case in the 1950s, when Bing Crosby was prohibited from a trendy Canadian hotel for using an all-denim outfit, as well as the Levi's company responded by making him a totally denim tuxedo to rock. The factor that "double jeans" is considered a synthetic is that when your denim coat and also pants are as well matchy-matchy, it appears like you're wearing an unusual pseudo match. However preventing this combo isn't a set policy. While it's harder to carry out well, you can put on a denim jacket with pants, as long as you make certain there's a great quantity of contrast in between the 2 items. That is, rather than putting on a tool wash coat with medium laundry denims, you wear a darker coat with lighter denims, or the other way around. You can likewise put on jeans in a color apart from blue-- black or charcoal can look good with a denim jacket.

#dress #cloth #branded clothes #jackets

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perfumania-blog · 6 years

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7 Fragrances Capable of Surviving a Long-Lasting Love Affair

When you wear fragrance, you want it to last for hours. Check out these 7 indelible fragrances that will wrap you in scent day and night.

One of the most satisfying moments as a fragrance fanatic is walking into a room and hearing someone exclaim, "Wow, you smell really good!" Getting complimented on your fragrance is a truly gratifying moment - especially when you applied your perfume before work and you're still getting complimented on it by happy hour.

Indelible Fragrance Favorites

Scents that provide a long-lasting love affair are simply the best. Sure, we love fragrance mists and scented lotions, but for a fragrance that packs a punch we want something that can go the distance with us. We refer to these fragrances as indelible scents - meaning that they last so long, it seems impossible to forget their luscious notes.

Over the years we've gathered a list of these fantastically long-lasting fragrances, and we're ready to share all of our secret finds:

1. Alien by Thierry Mugler

This celestial scent will provoke your senses from dawn til dusk. Rich and feminine with a hint of mystery, Alien has a fragrance that will linger on the skin for hours. Crafted with a rich blend of notes, you'll notice that throughout the wear-time of this delectable fragrance that the floral top notes will evolve into a more prominent woodsy and amber-rich scent. Full-bodied and elegant, with a touch of sweetness, Alien is the embodiment of an indelible scent.

2. Sofia by Sofia Vergara

Hello, sweetness! Sofia is a passionate blend of fragrance that speaks to Sofia Vergara's Colombian roots. Colombian Rose intertwines with soft Colombian Luna Musica Orchid, lending to a fragrance that's as dreamy as it is long wearing. Juicy berries open the scent, and overtime the rich, earthy woods speak more. Charming and magnetic, you'll be glad to wear this scent all day long.

3. Mon Jasmine Noir by Bvlgari

Own the night with this seductive fragrance by Bvlgari. True to its name, Mon Jasmine Noir blends rich notes of jasmine with lily of the valley and vibrant woods for a scent that is warm and floral, but still nighttime appropriate. This seductive fragrance is the perfect feminine accessory for an evening on the town, or for a lunch date. Plus, you can bet it will last for hours.

4. Bright Crystal by Versace

Certain fragrances just make you feel like you sparkle from the inside-out. That's precisely the feeling you'll awaken with Bright Crystal by Versace. A majestic blend of florals with a touch of musk, this fragrance is perfect for daytime wear. Light notes of pomegranate and peony make it an excellent office accessory, while its feminine touches of magnolia and lotus flower transition beautifully into evening wear. Glide from your desk to happy hour - no reapplication necessary.

5. Spring Flower by Creed

Generally speaking, all Creed fragrances are long wearing. Spring Flower is a delectable blend of scents that truly remains on the skin for hours. A celebration of romance, this vibrant scent boasts notes of sweet fruits and luxurious florals. Peach and jasmine intertwine for a soft and feminine fragrance that will linger long past end of day.

6. Vera Wang Princess by Vera Wang

It's safe to say that all of us want to feel like a princess every now and then. And, what is a princess without her crown? For us, Princess is like the tiara that compliments every outfit. Regal lady apple and wild tuberose meet in this exhilarating scent that combines fruity and floral notes with deeper scents, like dark chocolate and forbidden woods. Bright, feminine, and alluring, apply Princess to take on a luscious scent that will last all day long.

7. Black Orchid by Tom Ford

This list would just not be complete without the mention of Black Orchid. Rich, dark, and sensual, Black Orchid is a luxurious scent that will last from the morning through to the night. Exotic black truffle and French jasmine add to the allure of this scent. Full-bodied and elegant, Black Orchid will stay true to fragrance for hours when applied to the pulse points of the body - the wrists and the neck.

As a perfume lover, chances are you've spent hours smelling different scents, honing your collection, and developing a perfume wardrobe. Now, the true test is to gather your fragrances that you know will last all day long. What are your favorite indelible scents? Let us know by leaving a review!

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