#Orchid Villa

[zegalba]

Thilina Liyanage: Orchid Villa (2022)

[angelnumber27]

Orchid villa by Thilina Liyanage

[tatilvillasi]

Villa Orchid 5, villa kiralama talepleriniz için sizlere tavsiye edebileceğimiz ve Şile, Ahmetli Köyü'nde bulunan lüks tatil villasıdır. Villa; 4 yatak odası, jakuzisi, son derece lüks mobilyaları, özel yüzme havuzu, müstakil bahçesi, doğa ve deniz manzarası ile 8 kişilik geniş aileler ve arkadaş grupları için unutulmaz bir villa tatili alternatifi olacaktır. Son derece modern olarak dizayn edilip ultra lüks mobilyalar ile döşenmiş olan Villa Orchid 5 bir tatil villasında ihtiyaç duyabileceğiniz her türlü konfora sahiptir.

1. Yatak Odası: Çift kişilik yatak, elbise dolabı, makyaj masası, klima ve banyo, tuvalet yer almaktadır.

2. Yatak Odası: Çift  kişilik yatak, elbise dolabı, makyaj masası, klima ve banyo yer almaktadır.

3. Yatak Odası: Çift kişilik yatak, elbise dolabı, makyaj masası, klima ve banyo yer almaktadır.

4. Yatak Odası: 1 adet tek kişilik yatak, elbise dolabı, klima ve banyo yer almaktadır.

Salon 1: 1 adet oturma grubu, yemek masası, LCD TV, uydu alıcı, DVD player , salondan alt terasa çıkış ve ortak kullanım tuvalet bulunmaktadır.

Salon 2: 1 adet oturma grubu, yemek masası, LCD TV, uydu alıcı, DVD player , salondan havuza çıkış ve ortak kullanım tuvalet bulunmaktadır. 

Mutfak: Buzdolabı, bulaşık makinesi, ankastre set, mikrodalga fırın, su ısıtıcı, 8 kişilik yemek takımı, ve tüm mutfak gereçleri yeteri kadar bulunmaktadır.

Yıllık, sezonluk, aylık kiralama yapabileceğiniz villada konaklayan misafirlerimizin talepleri doğrultusunda günlük villa temizliğinin yanı sıra İstanbul tanıtım video ve gezi sayfalarında sıklıkla bahsedilen Şile günübirlik turları içinde en uygun fiyatı sunmaktayız. Sezonun yoğun geçen dönemlerinde değişiklik gösteren Villa Orchid 5 fiyatları ve villanın müsaitlik durumu hakkında detaylı bilgiyi çağrı merkezimizden alabilir size sunacağımız en uygun fiyat avantajlarından yararlanabilirsiniz.

*** Villa tatili ve günlük villa kiralama sektörünün Türkiye'deki en güvenilir firmalarından olan Dreamofholiday olarak; İstanbul villa kiralama seçenekleriniz için seçmiş olduğunuz Şile kiralık villaları ve tatil evlerimizde hiç bir sorun yaşamayacağınızın ve kesinlikle rahat edeceğinizin garantisini şimdiden verebiliriz.

Not 1: Villalarımız konumu bakımından doğa içerisinde bulunduğundan düzenli olarak ilaçlama yapılmaktadır. Buna rağmen çevrede büyük ölçüde rahatsız etmeyecek kelebek, böcek, sinek vs. bulunma ihtimali vardır.

Not 2: Ayrıca sistemimizde bulunan Villa Diamond 7, Villa Rose 1, Villa Ruby 11, Villa Opal 10, Villa Emerald 9, Villa Jade 8, Villa Tulip 6, Villa Orchid 5, Villa Pearl 3, Villa Tulip 2 ile Villa Coral 12 çok yakın konumda olduğu için kalabalık aile ve arkadaş grupları birden fazla villa kiralama şansı bulabileceklerdir.

Villa Orchid 5 - Transferler

Sabiha Gökçen Havaalanı - Şile Transfer: 65 km

İstanbul Havalimanı - Şile Transfer: 87 km

Harem Otogarı - Villa Orchid 5 Transfer: 70 km

Şile'de Yapabileceğiniz Aktiviteler 

* Su sporları, 

* Doğa yürüyüşleri, 

* Kültür turları,

* Şile gece hayatı, 

* Şile yat turları,

* Şile helikopter turları,

* Diğer kuruluşumuz Arsis Vip Transfer firmasından yapacağınız havalimanı transferleri ve Şile günlük gezi turları talepleriniz için % 10 oranında indirim fırsatı sunmaktayız.

İyi Tatiller..!

[alex-281]

Monarch Stays Orchid

Dreamy four-poster beds, sheer white curtains and a neutral colour palette - Cascades is what Scandinavian interior dreams are made of! Explore more at Monarch Stays Orchid.

[teaboot]

One time, I had an English professor tell me I should stop using my inhaler because it was bad for the environment.

Yeah an if you dropped dead it would significantly reduce your carbon footprint too, huh. What if we ALL just stopped breathing. Can’t be throwing fistfuls of plastic fuckin straws directly into the South Pacific when you got a BPM of zilch, can you? What a fuckin innovator. Was he head of your nation’s EPA *directly* before he retired to become world’s youngest baseline edgelord 4chan ass 14 year old boy with tenure, or did he wait for his 3rd consecutive Nobel peace prize before giving someone else a chance? Ask him if his back hurts from carrying the weight of all the world’s most pressing concerns to and from Chuck E Cheese each night or if his tiny spiny propellor hat lightens the load a bit. Did his big red clown nose come standard with his tweed set or he spring for the premium model with the biodegradeable sustainable foam and the super-boosted honk-honk action? Are his size 23 clown bitch oxfords custom? Does he take one off to use as a canoe on his annual vacations to his summer home in the balmy and tropical shit fuck dumbass islands or does he just levitate everywhere he goes by the power of his unparalleled Xmen level intellect. Can you ask him if Magneto is gonna spare the human race to run laps in his hamster wheel electrical generator complex or if he’s just gonna wipe us all the fuck out for the carbon tax credit. Ask him if the weight of his gigantic balls dragging in the ground behind him everywhere he goes adds to the mileage on his Tesla. When he wipes his ass does he use single ply to save the trees or just a fistful of baby ducklings that he can then gently bathe by hand with water collected by the rain barrel in the endangered orchid garden by the solarium on the west side of his sprawling villa, the one he bought when he sold the patent for the perpetual motion motion machine he built out of toothpicks and marshmallows in third grade before the obvious intellectual gap between himself and the rest of us bumbling simpletons weighed him down and killed his passion to create. What other wisdom has he yet to share with the world? What other knowledge that only he and my reiki-healing essential-oil-drinking violet-aura neighbour know that may benefit us all? Holy shit, have I been drinking WATER my whole life? That shit that whales live in? Guess I’ll just go lay in a hole out back and wait for the compost heap to take me. Should I confess my sins to Captain Planet first, so he may redeem my wicked soul in the true Eco Catholic way, or was that recyclable soda can I threw in the trash downtown at last year’s garlic bread festival because there were no recycling bins provided the final straw that made me unworthy of glorious green salvation? BRB, gotta go strip naked and flagellate myself before the begonias so that they may know the depth of my remorse. Don’t worry, I only buy locally-sourced hemp lashes produced by small home businesses at the farmer’s market, they have a three-for-two sale on Sundays if you bring your own reusable bag. Christ on a fucking cupcake

[orchidpiccadilly]

Orchid Piccadilly Apartments in Thanisandra Where Modern Living Meets Tranquil Luxury

Nestled in the heart of Thanisandra, Orchid Piccadilly Apartments represent the pinnacle of contemporary living in Bengaluru. These meticulously crafted apartments are more than just homes; they are a statement of your discerning taste and a reflection of the lifestyle you aspire to. Location is key, and Orchid Piccadilly Apartments delivers on this front. Situated in the vibrant Thanisandra neighbourhood, you're just moments away from major IT parks, educational institutions, shopping centers, and entertainment options. Commuting is a breeze, and you'll have access to everything you need right at your doorstep.

From the moment you step into Orchid Piccadilly Apartments in Thanisandra, you'll be greeted by a sense of grandeur and sophistication. The architectural design is a testament to meticulous planning and attention to detail. The apartments are spacious, flooded with natural light, and thoughtfully designed to maximize functionality and aesthetics. Whether you're looking for a cozy one-bedroom unit or a spacious family home, there's a perfect floor plan to suit your needs. Orchid Piccadilly Apartments cater to your every desire with a wide array of amenities. Stay active in the fully-equipped fitness center, relax by the swimming pool, or host gatherings in the well-appointed clubhouse. There's something for everyone, whether you're a fitness enthusiast, a social butterfly, or simply looking for a place to unwind.

[guzhufuren]

New posters, message, part of a soundtrack and information about upcoming chinese BL The General's Son, show from the director of Word of Honor

"Green mountains are hidden in the distance, the waters are far away, the bright moon is always shining, the world is full of happiness."

Genres: wuxia; revenge Number of episodes: 24 Episode runtime: 18 minutes

Lead actors: Li Kaiwen as Li Jianwei; Dong Zifan as Chen Xiaoxi

Director and executive producer: Ma Huagan (Word of Honor, The Legend of Anle, Sword Dynasty) Art director: Liu Jingping (Love and Redemption, A Dream of Splendor, Wonderland of Love) Screenwriter and chief producer: Zhou Shucheng Executive producers: Zhuo Zuoqing, Yang Qi Co-producers: Jiang Yuxin, Li Shike, Dong Xinyu Co-director: Wang Xue Producers: Jiang Zhengpeng, Liu Wei, Xu Heni Planning by: Luo Yuting, Luo Gaoqiang

Filming finished this June. Will not be broadcast in mainland China. Original script.

Synopsis: General Li's family were killed on New Year's Eve. Li Jianwei, the youngest son of the Li family, escaped death, but disguised himself as a courtesan and went to Wei Mountain to seek revenge. Chen Xiaoxi, the young master of Guigu, has a lively and eccentric personality, becomes increasingly close to Li Jianwei, who has tried his best to win him over. Chen Xiaoxi's sister, Xiao Hetao, is simple and kind. She discovers that Li Jianwei came for revenge, and dies to resolve the hatred between the two.

Characters:

Li Jianwei. Twenty years old, the youngest son of General Li Fei, he is loved by the whole family, standing like an orchid and a jade tree, smiling like the bright moon. He should have had a bright future, but his fate changed overnight. In order to get revenge, he went undercover to Weishan, enduring humiliation and patiently executing his plan step by step.

Chen Xiaoxi. At the age of twenty, we meet the young master of Weishan Guigu. He was born pure but had evil eyes. Under his lively and sunny appearance, his face looked like that of a devil's. In fact, he was rough but kind, and treated people with sincerity. Unfortunately, fate played a cruel joke on him and his mother died.

Xiao Hetao. At the age of seventeen, Chen Xiaoxi rescued a human child from a wolf pack. Innocent and romantic, she was very simple and naive. Gui Rong and others gave Xiao Hetao the purest and most innocent living environment, but she hoped to resolve the hatred of everyone with her own power.

Princess Qingyuan. Thirty-four years old, a graceful and elegant lady, smart and tenacious. She was in love with Chen Dawang when she was young. After Chen Dawang's death, she firmly refused marriage arranged by the magistrate's office and spent many years in Zhejiang. While helping Li Jianwei to take revenge, Qingyuan, the deputy envoy of the Chang'an Supervisor Zi Ke, has been trying to find out the truth about Jian Jishan from 20 years ago.

Chen Dawang. At the age of 38, we meet the leader of Guigu in Huishan. Twenty years ago, he was a major general in the Loyal and Brave Army led by Chen Weishan. Entrusted by the general, Chen Dawang and his party lived in seclusion in Guigu for twenty years, just to avenge the Loyal and Brave Army and reveal the truth to the world one day.

Sizhou. 24 years old, a descendant of the Loyal and Brave Army, he was a martial arts expert but became blind in two days. Because he was indebted to the Lord of Qingyuan, he stayed by his side and waited for investigation. While helping Li Jianwei to get his revenge, he also hoped to find out the truth of the old case of the Loyal and Brave Army from 20 years ago.

Wan Qianhong. Thirty-eight years old, owner of Baihua Villa, with mysterious martial arts and deceitful tricks. When she was young, she fell in love with Li Pu, who concealed his identity. Later, Li Xifei and Huang Jueda broke off all ties with Wan Qianhong. Since then, Wan Qianhong deeply hated Li Pu and all men in the world. Behind the hatred, Wan Qianhong missed her daughter so much that she mistakenly recognized Xiao Hetao as Zaotian's daughter. In the end, they ended up loving each other but not being able to be together.

Shi Tou. Eighteen years old, a good martial brother of Chen Xiaoxi, grew up in Jianweishan. He is the beloved son of Uncle Hua and Aunt Hua, with a simple and straightforward personality. He was happy and naive until Xiaohe died. The joy he did not even have time to express became the biggest regret in Shi Tou's life.

*text from informational brochures was converted with image to text online programs, translated through google translator and edited by me with some help of online dictionaries. i do not speak chinese, so there are most certainly mistakes in the text. purpose of this translation is to give you the general idea

[punk-in-docs]

A song of brides and hounds: part III

— Emperor Geta x Reader (Salacia)

— 4.3k words.

— Read all parts here: Part I — Part II — Part III — Part IV — Part V

Summary: You were raised outside of this Rome. Born into peace. To know of fathomless deep seas, and skies so big, they wrapped around your whole sight. The way that at night all you can smell are lemon trees kissed by salt. The jasmine plants wound around the white walls of the villa. Salacia. And now you are sent to Rome for your father in the Senate. There you will catch the attention of Geta; in all the wrong and darkest of ways— any reblogs and comments are greatly appreciated 💙💙💙

TW: for this chapter - mainly violence and some gore, also Caracalla being a nasty little bitch -- enjoy!

The servant girls’ hands are kind.

They undress you softly, and handle you with such reverence. Strip from you the ruined stola and tend your wounds.

They wash your feet, ply your cuts with a herbal paste of yarrow and uva ursi, wrap you in bandages. They rub new sweet smelling oil onto your unwounded skin.

Pick off your old jewellery and finery to be discarded. Slip you out your shoes. Lay you bare. Stood before them in naught but your skin as they tend you.

One is wetting, oiling and combing your netted hair to silky serenity again. Another is cleaning the wound on your elbow. All traces of dirt - and your previous life along with it - slowly removed.

Stood you in a shallow golden tub of warm water that laps at your ankles. Milky with oils and soaps. They put rose petals in the water. You watch them swim and dip.

You beg for one of the girls to keep the fibulae broaches that held your now damned dress to your shoulders. Your very last essence of home. Venus was enshrined in those very broaches. They gave you hope. Carrying a small kind piece of goddess with you. Laying your devotion to the majesty of the ocean on your simple shoulders.

They guided you to rooms draped in blue and gold. Stars moulded on the ceiling with the ornate marble that drips from every wall and corner. Giving the false illusion of a night sky. The flat ceiling between them clouded with bursts and puffs of dark blue that indicated churning night clouds. Boundless skies. Endless seas.

It felt like showing all the maps of the world to a caged bird.

Soft feminine blues befit these chambers. Statues and devotion to goddesses crown the walls and doorways. Urns of large stemmed white flowers. One wall holds a table lined with a huge offering of fruits, dried and fresh. Some bread and cured meats and oiled small fish. And an amphora of wine and goblet for after your bathing.

The air in here is scented all floral herb and clean. Too clean. No hint of sea salt or dried weed that tumbles on the shore to bake in the sun. It’s unfamiliar.

The huge slab of the cushioned bed is draped with silks and gauzy canopy curtains the colour of dove feathers. You don’t want to look at it. You dread thinking what will happen in it tonight.

A large maw of balcony gapes at another side of the room. This shows you the wall of rain outside. The violent tumble of thunder that must be shaking the very hills and peoples of Rome.

You feel as if the sea is raging because you’ve been stolen from it. Now it seeks vengeance on the land. Lashing and storming mercilessly until you’re found. Back where you belong.

Unlikely. It will have to rage on.

You stand, undressed, unseeing. Uncaring for the wealth of the room you’ve been pulled into.

The maid behind you, Oriana, a sweet and silent blonde, is scooping your hair back from your neck to comb and ply it with vanilla and orchid oil. Dark sweet musk.

Geta had specifically requested it.

Your head servant is a maid called Aeliana.

She has an accent you can’t place. It’s pretty, her tone husky. She had wonderful raven hair spilling silky and free over her shoulders, eyes dark as cassia bark, almond shaped. Long lashes. The epitome of tranquil beauty.

The colour of her dress is different to the rest of them. Indicating her higher status. Rusty red and it readily compliments the natural darkness of her skin. She wore golden bangles threaded on each wrist, and her touch is cloud soft.

She has a scar that intersects down from the middle of her forehead, across her left eye and cheek and ends there. Skin twisted and healed shiny. An old wound. It makes her striking to look at.

Worse still; She catches you staring.

Lowers her eyes as she tended you. Layering the sticky wet herbal treatment to your wounded elbow.

“Does my appearance displease you, my lady?” She lapses into silence for a moment or two.

“If you’d prefer I could send for another handmaiden to come tend you-“ She asks. Not harshly. There’s a hint of shame to her tone.

You look to her. Fearful of offence.

“I am not displeased. Forgive me. To stare so openly is rude.” You mutter. Eyes falling to your feet again. You watch rose petals sway on the water. You swallow thickly.

If she’s amused at your asking her, a servant, for forgiveness, she doesn’t show it. She calmly counters;

“You are Empress Salacia of Rome. You are allowed to stare at whomever you wish.” She tells you plainly.

Your eyes water. You bite inside your lower lip before you respond.

Not yet I’m not. And I don’t want to be.

“How came you by the scar?” You ask. Knowing full well you won’t like the answer. She gently washed your shoulder with a cloth.

“The Emperor.” She tells frankly.

At your doe eyed expression of horror she elucidates.

“Not Emperor Geta. His brother, Caracalla. Emperor Geta’s temper may be foul and quick to boil. But, Caracalla he is… far crueler.” She explains.

Your mouth purses into a thin line.

Oriana has finished oiling your hair. Now she was styling it into waves. Decorated with ornaments of netted gold. Geta requested it down as opposed to the normal bridal style. Emperors have what they want.

“What was the reason…” You sought. Fearing the answer.

“I was too slow in bringing his wine one night.” She offers. Plucking a vial of oil from the side table and coming back to rub it into your bare arms.

You squeeze your eyes closed. Ignore the tickle of tears that threaten your scrunched eyelids.

This is the savage world you must inhabit now. Try to navigate with sharper hungrier teeth and deadlier instinct. You don’t feel ready. You must become lionhearted and fierce. Carry knives. Be ruthless.

You hear your mothers reverent voice in your head. Sweet sea child. You were not made that way.

“I am sorry for your pain. Aeliana. But I am grateful for your warning.” You decide.

She nods. “I thank the goddess’ for you. Empress.” She smiles at you.

Before going to the side to fetch your tunica recta, and the belt you’d wear on your waist in a knot of hercules. Which tradition dictated only Geta was allowed to undo.

Your husband.

You wince. Aueliana notices.

“Your majesty?” She seeks. Sensing your unease.

“I am nervous.” You tell her. You confide your worry in this woman with kind eyes and soft hands.

“It is expected of a bride to be nervous.” She awards you.

“I’m not a normal bride.” You confirm fearfully. She can see them shaking in your gaze. Threatening to breach your lash line.

She nods in understanding. You’re sure they all knew. The reason that placed you here. Spread like wildfire on dry plains through the servant halls.

“I know little of managing a husband. Of… starting a family.”

“If I may, your majesty. Your family is a noble one, yes?” She asks.

You nod. You lived in one of the richest houses in Corsica. You were never lacking in money or ribbons and new jewels. But at best you were a senators daughter. Not the ideal stock for an Emperors wife. Not the type to be governing one great nation.

“My grandmother is a well known seer in these parts. A healer. Purveyor of white magic. Many a time she has seen things that have yet to come to pass…” She explains.

“She foretold your arrival. Said the future of Rome would be written by rain and storm, when blood spills on the ancient serpent stone.”

Serpent. Synonymous with the Traitor. Two faced and shedding skin. Blood spilling, the death of your Brother. Rain on the rocks- this storm hammering down. You can’t believe it.

“What if Rome is your destiny?” She explains. Her voice kind and brave as the candles flicker and the storm rages on.

“Then I pray the goddess’ convey me the strength to survive it.”

“I will pray too.” She takes your hand. It feels like kinship.

They stepped you out of the tub and began to pat you dry with cloths and then dress you.

With each pass of their hands wiping the water from your skin, it removed you further and further from yourself.

Aeliana rubs a sweet balm like texture onto your pebbled nipples before she robes you. Said it was to increase your fertility. She also lines your eyes with burnt kohl.

They pulled your dress on around you. Let it fall into beautiful waves. You stood sedately and let them manoeuvre you. Aeliana wraps the belt around your waist. When it cinches tight - so does the last vestige of your freedom.

Your skin positively draped with as much fragrant oil as it could take. Anointed with your new life as it drips off you in unbearable sweetness. Decorations not of your choosing put into your hair, on your ears, around your neck, on your arms. Strangled by someone else’s finery.

Slid fine golden sandals onto your feet. Aeliana brought a flame red veil and pinned it in place over your head. It floated down to your shoulders. Securing a crown of myrtle flowers over it.

It may have been gauzy fabric; rich and fine. But it felt like iron to you. Iron veil and a crown of thorns.

When they finish readying you, they bow and leave you alone to eat the fresh bread and fruits. Drink the sweet wine. Night closes in around you.

You didn’t ever picture the night before your wedding being like this. Alone and noiseless save for rain. You pictured the noise and gaiety of your sisters, dancing in their fine dresses. How they’d carry golden stalks of wheat to signify your prosperous marriage - how it would bear fruit. Be blessed by gods and fortune.

Your mother would bind your hands to the man you’d marry. To the man you’d love.

And you are here. Miserable in cold indifference. Clothed in perfumed oil and silence. With only your dour thoughts for company.

You pick at your offering of food. Feeling the milky eyes of those female deity marble statues watching you carefully. Judging. Maybe even disappointed.

When the doors next shudder open as the guards outside push them open, a divine older woman comes striding slowly, surely, into the room. Confidence woven into her steps like the very fine lavender purple cloth folded around her shoulders. A beautiful sage green palla. Her hair is dark and braided masterfully on her head. Shot through with bolts of silver.

You recognise her from coins. From statues. The Dowager Empress of Rome. Julia Domna.

She looks wise as Minerva. Goddess of education indeed. All of Rome had heard tale of not only her beauty, but her mind. Sharp as an arrowhead. A gentle mediator between her rabid sons.

Out of sheer politesse and nerves, you bolt out your seat and bow your head to her. Words shrivel on your tongue. Royalty is stood before you. Here you are plucked from the dungeons. You feel unworthy.

“Rise, my child.” She bids you. Holding out a hand laid with jewels on nearly every finger. Standing before you. Close enough to discern some of your beauty through the veil.

She examines you. Not unkindly. The way you’d expect a mother to examine the vessel that will carry her sons legacy. She’s discerning.

“Let me see my sons choice then…” she bids. Hands crossed in front of her, diplomatically, as she lets her deep set, serious eyes become acquainted with all of you.

Choice? Or chattel?

She walks around you. Eyes your hair. Your build. Your hips. The way you’ve been presented like a prized sacrificial swine before the crowds on Saturnalia.

And she doesn’t appear to find you lacking

“Goodness. You really are beautiful.” She says. It sounds mournful. Introspective. As if she didn’t intend on you hearing it.

“He’s made a fine choice.” She lauded

“Corsica, I hear you hail from?”

“Yes, Dowager.”

“I want to know one thing.” She says. Voice hard as newly forged steel. A shiver runs your spine. So she could be terrifying if she wishes.

“Are you a traitor against Rome?�� She demands. “There are spies who would conspire to align themselves with this great house, under false guises, to murder my sons.” She speaks, crossly. Eyes aflame.

She has bite after all. Lions teeth and knows full well how to use them.

“I am no spy. I am not a murderer I have no guise. Like you. I only want to protect those whom I love.” You answer calmly. Placid easy waves. Gently now.

She smiles. Though something curious still lurks in her eyes.

“Then we are on the same page.” She awards slyly. You feel as if you’ve passed a test.

Her smile crooks on one side. Relieved.

She turns to the doors. The great sway of her earrings are big as chandeliers as she moves. Stunning gold. Bands of gold also cross her well formed upper arms. Every inch a woman of gentility and riches. She is perfumed with lavender. Oil made from dried plants fetched all the way from purple fields in Aquitania.

“My son grows impatient to see his bride. Come. Salacia. It is time.” She offers her arm to you.

Apparently your destiny lays in wait.

~

The wedding was a short and simple affair. The Dowager Empress led you to the grand rooms where they were to be held.

Grand, just like the rest of this humongous sprawling palace.

When you see Geta, he is clad in so much gold and armour. A blinding white cloak draped off his form. Armour golden. Carved with gods and victorious hero’s of battle. Golden laurel crown adorns his head. His smile at the sight of you makes you blush with attention.

You are suddenly grateful for the veil. It manages to hide you from every stranger in this room. You can make out Caracalla. Some other senators. Other guests you’ve no idea who.

The celebrant, a rather portly priest, ordered the evil spirits away. Asked for the fire spirits to bless you. He invoked Janus to watch over you from single people to a joined couple. New beginnings.

When it is time, he takes your hand and carefully threads an engagement ring on your finger. It is weighty, pure gold. An imitation of two dog heads joined together. A round sapphire cradled between their mouths. As if they’re fighting for it.

Remus and Romulus. It reminds you of him already.

You dare to meet his eyes as he does it. He looks ravenous. Umbra catching you where you stand. Swallows you whole. You don’t think you can get used to it yet.

“Wherever you go, there also go I, as your wife.” You speak.

The dowager Empress binds your hands together with blood red linen as the rest of the vows are read. The way his fingers turn and grip the inside of your forearm - firm pressing, hot like a brand - it makes you shiver.

Then comes the time for the marriage to be sealed with a kiss. Hands freed.

Your stomach is squirming unpleasantly as your stranger of a groom steps forwards to lift your veil. When he lifts the red gauze from your vision, you keep your eyes lowered until the last moment.

You feel the urging of his eyes. You could hear the fierce nature of his words as if he’d spoken.

Look at me. Salacia.

He looks entirely too boastful. His perfect little nymph. Caught and landed at last.

Hepulled you in by your waist. Locked his hand around your back. Gave you a kiss that was certainly gentler than before. Softness of his lips was maddening when the rest of him was all armour and metal. But you still felt the edge of his teeth on your lower lip. Bursting new pain from where it had split.

It was official. You had been dragged out a golden net cast in the sea. And now property of the Emperor of Rome.

You had no time to let your thoughts wander. There’s been quite the celebration planned for after. He walks beside you as congratulations ripple around you from nobles, senators, generals and high officials of the courts.

You ignore the way Caracalla sneers a particularly vile look your way when you pass him. Plotting.

You are lead to an opulent triclinium. Open to one huge side, guarded by pillars, which overlooked a garden where fountains trickled and plants bloom even in the storm that’s still brewing. Spitting rain on the landscape.

There are torches at the sides of the rooms, huge bowls boasting orange flames that lick at the walls, and freshly plucked flowers, still green branches and fronds sit in urns to the side. Filling the room with petals and heady nectar scent.

There’s a huge swarm of lectus’ in the centre of the room. Bronze laid with cushions. All pointing towards a huge table were bread and wine goblets awaited. You’re not used to how the room echoes. Unused to the sheer amount of people and formality that fills it.

The wine is poured freely by silent servants who sweep in and out. Some of them carrying plates as huge as carriage wheels. A whole roasted boar with grapes spilling out its mouth is brought in. Trays upon trays of cooked moray eels, cod and oiled anchovies. A whole platter of stewed nightingale birds, arranged around stalks of herbs and plums.

There’s fruit and bread the like of which you’ve not seen before. White bowls filled with cut purple figs and waxy oranges. Apples and yellow golden pears on tiered stands. Grapes and dried apricots heaped in dishes. It’s dazzling. So much wealth thrust before you.

You have a cup of sweet honey wine and take some of the unleavened bread. Watching as others around you gorge and toast with their goblets. Drinking strong wine and telling jokes and bawdy stories.

You feel disjointed from it all. You feel the Emperors eyes pass over you. The dowagers too. You are a source of mystery and intrigue.

Plucked from misfortune and placed here at the feet of gods.

You do feel when your new husband slides some pieces of fruit, or fresh breads onto your plate. A small bunch of sweet red grapes. His head may be cocked to conversation in this room. But his attention remains somewhat on you.

“Eat. Wife. I do not wish to force you.” He commands you. Prodding food and more wine in your direction.

Nursing his own cup and barking at the servants when he wanted more. You know his tongue must be stained with the taste by now. Sour purple. You wonder if you’ll taste it later in another of his animalistic kisses.

It feels like there is a boulder in your stomach. You swallow. You sip. You try to breathe. It all feels too restricted.

“Refill my wife’s cup.” Geta demands of the nearest servant. You flinch at his cutting commands.

You meet the servants eyes for a second and flicker them a smile. They look to the ground as they fill your cup. Their poor hands shake. You thank them. They don’t respond.

You’ve a feeling his plying you with wine has more than one ulterior motive. To make you loosen. Make you pliant. Make you slip down easier in his crushing grip.

“I have no appetite.” You admit weakly.

You can’t stomach the way the fat on the meat before you glistens. These poor stewed birds with clipped wings. The gutted boar. Glistening fat and dead meat. Same as the way of those poor flayed men in the coliseum.

Butchered animals. One and the same. The way blood sprayed out on the biscuit brown dirt under the sun. The way viscera glistened bright when spilled free from once living flesh. How these animals looked served on a platter. There’s no difference.

You take some grapes. Pick them from the vine. Bite into some apricots. The fruit rots on your palate. Fine sugary flesh and it bursts on your tongue like ripe putrefaction. You place it gently back on your plate.

“Do they not have fruit in Corsica?” He asks. It’s vaguely mocking.

“We had lemon trees in the gardens. An olive tree in the courtyard. Over 200 years old.” You state quietly. Not taking your eyes off the plate in front of you. You picked and prodded at it.

“You have more now. You are Empress. You have anything you want.” He impressed on you.

“I miss the ocean. The sun on the shoreline. My sisters.” You mutter.

“Don’t risk sounding ungrateful.” He threatens.

Geta followed the path of your reluctant hand with his eyes. He then scans across all of his guests. People of the senate. Rich merchants. Fellow royalty.

They come to snipe and drink wine and watch this new wedded spectacle.

“They are all dull.” Geta decided.

You wonder if the only source of amusement he could delight at was seeing people being beaten to black and blue paste in the coliseum. To have to see the spray of blood to feel something.

“They are intrigued. Their Emperor has placed a traitor in his marriage bed.” You comment.

Geta turned to you. “That sounds like treason to my ears.” A warning.

“Perhaps.” You answered. Boldly.

“But is it inaccurate? It is what they are all thinking.” You add. “You’ve wedded yourself to someone disloyal. Someone who is not their kind. They are curious.”

Geta scans his eyes over everyone again. Their laughter. The flow of wine. The way they stab and cut into food and fruit like they’re half starved. None of them quite meet your eyes.

Perhaps they don’t wish too.

His hand finds the meat of your thigh. Flesh firm and warm.

“They will believe what I tell them too. Wife. You only need worry about your loyal duty to me. Nothing else.” He makes clear.

You go back to pushing bits of fruit around your plate. Taking no more sustenance.

“No doubt you are unused to such finery.” Caracalla pipes up. Seeing you toy with your food. “I wonder what they eat in Corsica. Peasants sea food?”

You meet Caracalla’s eyes across the tables and mountains of rich food.

Getas eyes were dark. Fired by lust for you. That’s what you saw in them when he looked at you.

The same could not be said for Caracalla.

You saw nothing. Just darkness and his love of cruelty. Geta unnerved you. But it was Caracalla who scared you most. It was like gazing into a tomb. A bare skull eye socket. You’re certain nothing but darkness refracted back. Splintered twisted darkness. The purest distilled form of malice.

“Perhaps you are jealous, brother. The fact that I will have heirs meant for the future of the empire. And you will… not.” He snaps. Petulant.

“If she makes it that far.” Caracalla sneers. Daggering a smile right at you. A sneer that make you feel cold. He’s twirling a dagger in his other hand. Eyeing you with sick lustful interest.

He wants your goodness too. He wants it so he can spoil you for himself and ruin Getas legitimacy. By whatever means necessary. Geta has cruelly inserted you into this feud.

“And who’s to say the heir will be yours… who knows where her eyes will stray.” He jabs. Eyes widening as he leers.

Geta stabs into his food. Glaring at his smaller twin all the while. Eyes dark as shadow cloaked black jewels.

When some servants near you move from pouring wine, the sight of the persons impeded by them, slowed your world to a halt, ringing gongs in your ears when you caught sight of someone you recognized.

Macrinus.

The food in your mouth turns to ash which you can hardly stomach swallowing. Your gaze locked on the man as he lays content at your wedding feast. Drinking wine and roaring laughter with Caracalla. Garbed in robes of rich Aquarian blue trimmed with gold pattern.

Exactly the gracious easy way he had been when he dined with you and your father in his home.

His smile remains as he locks eyes with you. And raises his glass in a toast in your direction. You hear him drink to your new name with a blazing smirk aimed your way. “Empress.”

You mumble a pithy excuse. You don’t know if anyone hears you or if they’ll even look up from their plates when you get up and rush to leave.

Caracalla snorts as you race from the room on the verge of tears.

“She’s a flighty one. Your Empress. So full of tears.” Caracalla comments loudly. Cruelly. Turning his head to meet the acid stare of his brother - and the Dowager Empress as she lowers her goblet from her lips. Eyes cool as metal.

“Maybe if you shoved your cock into your broodmare, brother, as you doubtless plan to do this night. Maybe that would settle her down? Or maybe a good beating from the guards will see her right, make her see her place… maybe let a few of the guards bend her over a lectus and see to her first? Loosen her up a little for your uses.”

“Caracalla. Enough.” The dowager snaps. Lightning power in her voice. Tone fashioned from a fury storms could envy. Her dark eyes glow with it.

She turns to Geta and lays a gentle pacifying hand to his arm. “See to your bride, dear. She looked unwell.”

Geta sighs a snarl. Glaring at his brother as he does as mother suggested.

She watches him leave. Turns to her other son with barely concealed ire.

Caracalla snorts into his wine with the other guests. Making sneering, high handed remarks.

“Such marital bliss.” He mocks to the guests. Twirling his favourite silver dagger in his other hand. Laughing as he played with the dead meats on his plate with a sneer. His tooth winked golden in the light.

~

Tagging in the hopes this finds its way to the right people- thank you--

@ceriseheaven @lurkingprincess @ramona-thorns @joequinnswhore @iliveforotps @eddiesskittle @roosterisdaddy36 @rose-tinted @lluviamg06 @ravensfromvalhalla @fujiihime @youaremyfamiliar @captain-tch @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @svenyves @sammararaven @feralgoblinbabe @groupie-love-71 @andromeda-andromeda @gvtosbith @munsonswhoresposts2 @shenevertricks1831 @hazzaismyreligion @anaisweird @cinnamoncunt @red-lipstick-bisexual @wheels-of-despair @tvserie-s-world @callmeloverr @ho-for-joequinn-fics @bettyfrommars @rip-quizilla @songforeddiemunson @usedtobecooler @peachesandfiends @littlelioncub43 @heyndrix @babybluebex @blueywrites @joejoequinnquinn @cool-nick-miller @sheneedsrocknroll92 @rehfan @pedgito @dracomaledicte @gamingaquarius @mypoisonedvine @sharp-and-swift @chaptersleftunwritten

[cosmicanger]

Orchid Villa (2022)

designed by: Thilina Liyanage

[desertfangs]

DesertFang's (rainandcoffee's) Fic Masterlist 💖

For easy reference. Oldest to Newest.

Armand/Daniel

The Vampire Bar - M, 2.5k [Humor, Angst] Daniel, with his book newly published and still on the run from Armand, finds a "vampire" bar full of mortals.

The Mundanity of Mortality - M, 2.8k [Humor, Angst, Slice of Life] Daniel wakes up one night and realizes he has to take care of some boring human stuff, like laundry.

The Madness of Mortality - M, 3k [Angst, Hurt/Comfort] Daniel finds some gray hair, runs away, and loses it a little as he tries to decide where he belongs.

Pumpkin Carving - T, 1.5k [Boyfriend Era, Exploring the World] Armand learns about this Halloween tradition with Daniel's help.

Just Another Party - E, 1k [Public Sex] My first foray into writing smut

The Dancer - M, 3k [Angst, Grief, Comfort] Daniel learns that young dancer he and Armand sponsored in the late 70s has died.

Rings - M, 1.8k [Chase Years, Angst] Armand is surprised when Daniel is more observant than expected.

A Series of Decembers - M, 2.7k [Christmas, Angst] Daniel experiences Christmas through the years.

Turning Circles - M, 8k [Reunion, Angst, Fluff] My first attempt to write their reunion missing from Prince Lestat.

The Christmas Village - M, 3.2k [Christmas, Angst, Fluff] Daniel decides to build a Christmas village, but his obsessive nature causes Armand to worry he's falling into a dangerous old pattern.

So This Is the New Year - M, 8.9k [Humor, Fluff, Mild Angst] Armand is throwing a New Years party at court at Lestat's request, and Daniel is trying to avoid being there for too long.

Turn Me to Dust - M, 2.2k [Hurt/Some Comfort, Angst] Hurt and angry that Armand won't make him a vampire, Daniel threatens to go out and find another vampire who will.

Every Time I Look at You - T, 1.3k [Angst w/ a Happy Ending] Seeing Armand for the first time in years, Daniel doesn't know how to talk to him.

In the Midst of Madness - M, 8.3k [Angst, Hurt, Missing Scene] Armand begins to wonder where Daniel is and doesn't like the answer.

In the Mouth of Madness - M, 2k [Angst, Alternate POV] Daniel's POV of Armand's phone call from In the Midst of Madness

Changes - E, 3.8k [Angst, Humor, Fluff, Smut] Daniel isn't sure why Armand is hellbent on running them ragged but he's determined to figure it out before it blows up in his face.

Shadows and Stars - M, 6.5k [Humor, Fluff, Angsty Conversations] Daniel tries to surprise Armand for Valentine's Day. Post-Canon.

Collapse Into Me - E, 2.6k [Smut, Humor, Fluff] While Daniel and Armand fool around, Daniel discovers that Armand is ticklish and uses that to his advantage (somewhat).

Dead Drunk - E, 5.2k [Vampire Drunk, Smut, Humor] Armand and Daniel drink from intoxicated people and get vampire drunk together

Lace - E, 4.4k [Public Sex, Lace Panties, Humiliation] Armand gets Daniel a pair of lace panties for his birthday

In the Blood - M, 4.8k [Angst with a Happy Ending, Humor] A few months post-Queen of the Damned, Armand finds Daniel alone, avoiding everyone inside the Villa.

Wicked Designs - E, 4.9k [Smut, Light Bondage, Handcuffs] Armand buys novelty handcuffs.

Hey Pretty - E, 6.3k [Reunion, Voyeurism, Sentimental Smut] Daniel and Armand try to find their footing again in NYC (post-PL)

Carnal Pleasures - E, 2.7k [Smut, Chase Years] During the early years of the chase, Daniel finds himself in a motel, alone and wishing Armand would appear.

Five Times Daniel and Armand Almost Kiss During the Chase Years and One Time They Did - E, 5.9k [Chase Years, Humor, Angst, Pining] What it says on the tin.

Goddamn Aliens Part 1 and Part 2 - Mature, 2.5k each [Missing Scenes, Angst, Humor] Two scenes of Daniel reacting to the aliens and plot points in PLROA.

Forbidden Desires - E, 3.8k [Humor, Mild Angst, Smut, NI Era] Armand gets a new coffin and Daniel is determined to see it

Broken Orchid - E, 3.7k [Fighting Then Making Up, Angst, Trauma] Daniel and Armand are at Trinity Gate when they discover one of Louis' precious orchid flowers has died, and Armand blames Daniel.

Make the Season Bright - E, 6.1k [Christmas, Chase Years] Daniel finds himself in a shopping mall on Christmas Eve with his vampire stalker.

All Dust and Stone - M, 6.9k [New Year's Eve 1989, Angst] Daniel is not about to ring in the new year without trying to fix things between them, no matter how frustrating that may prove to be.

St. Patrick's Cathedral - M, 3.3k [Grief, Daniel's Madness] When Daniel learns that Armand has gone into the sun, his grief threatens to destroy him.

Haunted House - T, 2.3k [Daniel's Madness, Angst, Comfort] Armand and Daniel venture back to the house Daniel shared with Marius in Norway, and Daniel has to face is demons.

Grave Decisions - M, 3k [Grief, Angst, Comfort] Daniel is off by himself dealing with a personal matter when Armand finds him to make sure he's okay (and doesn't do anything stupid).

Dangerous Obsessions - E, 3k [Smut, Angst, Chase Years] Armand and Daniel discuss the meaning of Valentine's Day... and love. And get a little handsy, leaving Daniel extra confused.

The Amethyst Ring - M, 11k [Humor, Fluff, Angst, Reunion] Four interconnected stories about a ring.

Swipe Right - E, 18k [Human AU, Dating App, Smut] In this modern, human AU Daniel is a radio intern with a podcast who installs a Dating App to find love. Some Louis/Daniel as well.

Drifting Across the Moon - M, 3.8k [St. Patrick's Day, Angst, Fluff] A St. Patrick's Day Story: Daniel returns to Chicago, the last place he was alive as a mortal, trying to figure some things out.

Shake and Sway - E, 3.6k [New Vampire Daniel, Humor, Smut] Having finally arrived at Night Island after a long road trip, Daniel just wants some time alone with Armand.

Inebriated - M, 1k [Angst, Alcoholism] Daniel is drunk and pleading for the blood. Again.

The Chameleon - T, 1k [Chase Years, Humor, Armand in Glasses] Daniel is thrown a small surprise launch party for his book, Interview with the Vampire, and a special guest crashes.

Telephone Line - E, 2.6k [Vampire Phone Sex, PL Era] Daniel gets Armand to talk dirty about his latest kill over the phone.

An Evolution of Intimacy - E, 4k [Smut, Humor, Angst] A series of vignettes about Armand and Daniel being intimate in all the eras of their relationship.

Caught in the Crush - E, 2.9k [Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Smut] Armand, feeling a little dismissed and uncertain at Court, finds comfort in his only fledgling, Daniel.

Is it possible you never knew? - M, 5.1k [Angst, Reunion, Daniel's Madness] Armand pays a visit to the little house in Norway where Marius and Daniel are living, and Daniel worries about what his maker will make of him now.

Candy Cane - E, 3.4k [Christmas, Smut, Object Insertion] Armand & Daniel find non-traditional uses for a novelty candy cane.

Lestat/Daniel

Night Out - M, 3k [Angst, BroTP w/ Bennies, Humor] Daniel and Lestat meet up in New Orleans, vent some frustrations about Armand and Louis respectively, stalk a serial killer, and then make out a little.

The City Never Sleeps - M, 13k [BroTP, Angst, Humor] Lestat comes to Trinity Gate surprised to find Daniel alone and Daniel takes him on the Molloy Tour of NYC circa 1979

Leave Your Mark (+ Armand) - E, 5.2k [Hickeys, Smut, Threesome] Armand returns home to Trinity Gate and sees the very large mark left on Daniel's neck by Lestat.

One More Kiss, Dear - E, 4.6k [BroTP, Vampire Smut] An interlude between The City Never Sleeps & Leave Your Mark in which Daniel and Lestat return to Trinity Gate together.

Through the Garden Gate - E, 4.4k [Smut, Deep Discussions] Lestat and Daniel talk about Lestat's body swap and how Daniel worries his relationship with Armand is falling apart.

Marius/Daniel

Comfort and Joy - M, 2.9k [Christmas, Fluff, Humor] Daniel convinces Marius to decorate for Christmas.

Goddamn Aliens Part 3 - M, 2.5k [Missing Scene, Angst, Humor] Daniel tells Marius that he and Armand are leaving Court after things settle

Peripheral Ghosts - M, 1.7k [Angst, Daniel's Madness] Daniel thinks he sees Armand in a club and he and Marius discuss it

The Prime Minister's Assistant - E, 4.2k [Clothed Sex, Smut with the Boss] Marius wearing a sexy suit distracts Daniel

Red Wine - M, 2.7k [Angst, Fluff, Comfort, Daniel's Madness] Daniel ducks into a wine bar and stares at a glass of wine instead of hunting. Marius finds him.

Soul of an Artist - T, 1k [Fluff, Humor] Marius paints flowers on the walls of an abandon house and he and Daniel discuss art.

Five Times Daniel and Marius Almost Kiss and One Time They Did - M, 6.2k [Angst, Fluff, Daniel's Madness, Yearning, Kissing] Exactly what it says on the tin.

Another Halloween - 1.3k, M [Angst, Brooding] On a Halloween after he's recovered from his madness, Daniel is ruminating on the anniversary of his turning

Teetering on the Brink - M, 3.7k [Daniel's Madness, Hurt/Comfort] When Daniel has a mild relapse of his condition, it puts him in a danger and Marius has to come to the rescue.

Passion Play - E, 2k [Angst, Jealousy, Sexual Healing] Marius gets preoccupied by his thoughts and Daniel does his damnedest to pull him out of it.

Marius/Armand/Daniel

Into the Woods - M, 3.5k [Plot Driven, Relationships] A mysterious presence has been noticed in the woods around the Chateau. Marius, Armand, & Daniel try to find it.

Look Right Through - M, 20k [Plot Driven, Mystery, Relationships] When Daniel finds a corpse in the house, he isn't sure if it's a prank, a threat... or worse, his own madness rearing its ugly head once more.

Mortal Desires - E, 4.8k [Hormone Use, Smut] They use Fareed's hormones to allow the three of them to have a night of mortal intimacy together.

Armand/Lestat

Subtle Salvation - M, 3.4k [Night Island Era, Angst, Fluff] Lestat is ruminating on his concert and the fall out from it when Armand attempts to pull him out of his malaise.

O Tannenbaum - M, 6.5k [Mild Smut, Court Era, Holiday Fluff] Lestat bets Armand that he can decorate a Christmas tree better than he can 

Stitches - E, 3k [Angst, Humor, Smut] Lestat comes across Armand alone in the Villa, and decides to see what he's up to. He teases him a bit then one thing leads to another…

Sentinel - T, 428 words [Angst] Armand stands in Lestat's dilapidated little house during a storm.

Louis/Lestat

Delicate Desires - E, 3.2k [Rue Royale Era, Angst, Vampire Smut] Lestat is moody on his birthday.

Armand/Louis

A Ghost In Our House - M, 3k [Hurt/Mild Comfort, Angst] Louis is living like a ghost in their shared home. Armand wants to bring back his passion and joie de vivre, but doesn't know how.

General/Other

San Francisco, 1985 - M, 4k [Missing Scene, Angst, Conversations] Before they head to Miami, Armand, Daniel, and Louis visit the little place on Divisadero where it all began

Little Motel - E, 1.6k [Masturbation, Fantasy] Daniel, alone in a motel room, fantasizes about Lestat and then Armand

Necessity - T, 948 - Marius/Pandora [Angst, Humor] Pandora watches Marius get frustrated and leave a council meeting, and follows him out to talk.

The Recruiter - T, 999 - [Angst, Humor, Outsider POV] Thomas, a Talamasca agent, is sent to observe and talk to Daniel Molloy to assess if he might be a good fit for the organization.

Collections

Vamptember Prompts 2022 - Armand/Daniel, Louis/Lestat 13 Short Fics filling prompts

Bites & Bruises - Armand/Daniel, Armand/Lestat, Marius/Daniel, etc. Short fics, drabbles, vignettes that I didn't know where else to post

Shorts/Misc/Tumblr Only

Reassurances - Armand/Daniel Hurt/Comfort Fic

Marius and Daniel Experiment With Novelty Handcuffs

Record and Play - Armand/Daniel Short Fic

*Just a note that I did leave off a few super old fics that don't really reflect how I see the characters anymore. But otherwise this is a pretty complete list.

[streetkid-named-desire]

Aahh thank you @nananarc for again illustrating the chaos of Bea and V so beautifully!

A Ketubah Written in Blood

This illustrates a scene from the second chapter of the sequel. (This is a wip!)

Arnie handed the Rabbi the ketubah who read it in the original Aramaic. Bea's heart pounded in her chest and she didn't think it would settle until she was home. The Rabbi handed the parchment to V, who then handed it to Bea. Her hands shook and she gripped the ketubah tighter, fearing it would blow away. The Rabbi then recited the seven blessings over another cup of wine and they capped off the ceremony with a kiss. V dipped Bea back in his arms as they smiled into each other's lips, teeth clumsily clinking together. Rat placed the wine glass wrapped in a white cloth in front of V. He held Bea's hand and looked at his beautiful fiance, no, his beautiful wife and they stepped forward. He lifted his foot. Bea felt the familiar sensation of metal ripping through flesh. Through her flesh. "The crowd shouting "Mazal tov" echoed distantly, drowned out by the blood rushing inside her head. She looked down at the broken glass under V's foot with a frown. Had a piece flown out and hurt her? The cheering stopped and her eyes moved slowly, almost sluggishly, as she scanned down the length of her body trying to find where the pain was coming from. She'd dropped her leopard orchid bouquet at some point and petals stuck to her dress. Stuck how? She brushed a few off and noticed the flowers had been hiding a red stain blooming through her dress. V's voice was far off, echoing and quiet, "Bea? Fuck, Bea what happened!?" Bea pressed her hand to the stain and pulled it away. Red blood glistened across her palm. A sudden deep, hot rage burned through her. She tried so hard to be good, to make this day perfect for V. She fought through so much anxiety and terror to make this day, one single day, some semblance of normal for once in their lives. A glint of the sun off a sniper scope caught her eye and she looked out at the roof of Kerry's villa. Her mouth opened to speak but no words came out. She felt small and lost and distant. And she was fading, lightheaded. Was it her femoral?

A small team of six Militech special ops soldiers burst through the divider screens sending splinters of cheap wood flying. The one in the thickest body armor shouted, "She comes with us and no one gets hurt!" Bea scoffed and wobbled on her feet while she gathered up her dress. The tulle seemed endless. It was so heavy. She looked at V who dropped to the ground and ducked under Bea's dress. He yanked the HJKE from the garter holster, taking the briefest moment to admire and congratulate himself on the fact that Bea was wearing lacy black boyshorts, his favorite pair, and stuck his hand out to hand the gun to her. With one last mouth-watering glance, he slid out from beneath her, unholstering his own pistol from the small of his back. "Get the fuck out of my fucking wedding!" Bea yelled. The HJKE smart targeting reticle locked on to the sniper that was now standing next to who was presumably the leader and fired. Chaos erupted as everyone else drew their guns and began firing. Whoever planned the mission to storm the wedding of mercs was getting fired from the corporation.

[angelnumber27]

Thilina Liyanage’s Orchid Villa is so beautiful like look at this

[bernardperroudart]

Thilina Liyanage. Orchid Villa. 2022. The villa is realized using bent pieces of bamboo clad with a translucent fabric.

[look-sharp-notes]

Jamaica. Villa "White Orchid" by Ralph Lauren. Look of the day.

Ralph Lauren Club. Rivera Collection.

#Ralph Lauren #Ralph Lauren Home #heritage #inspiration #ralphlauren #poloralphlauren #oldschool #travel #old time #old world #Photo of the Day #style #vintage #beautiful images #images #travel #fashion20' #fashion30' #fashion40' #things with character #mood #color day #elegance #men outfits #elegant #fashion #look sharp #elegant notes #Gallery Inspiration #Rivera #Sail #Yachting #Yacht #Sea #Ocean #Travel #Cruise #Regatta #Adventure #Colonial style #Eclectic #Marine style #Beach #Beach house #decor #interiors

[fighting-these-demons]

There's that bit in the 2nd op where she's a fairy:

Rising Arrow Fairy AU

Specifically a Fern Gully AU

Rain gets shrunk and falls in love with Fairy!Allenby !

It's Extra Cute because it's also a Personality Swap/Role Reversal sort of, since Allenby is closer to Zak and Rain is closer to Crysta. :3c

Imagine them sleeping in a big beautiful flower!!!

😭💖

[jamiesfootball]

in light of all your snippets from the one that makes you sick dunking me in the angst cauldron lately (COMPLIMENT), take this as an opportunity to share anything you feel like about/from that fic (or any of the others) 🌹🌻🌹

Waaaaaaaaah thank you!!!!!

This one began as a classic 'I had the idea for one scene, wrote that, and now I've got to write everything else around it.' In this case I started at the end and worked backwards. It's a very free-flowing method, which is a nice break from some of my other, plotty-er things.

The basic summary is that Jamie's has started to remember bits and pieces of Amsterdam (maybe; it's not like he can know for sure, can he?) leading to him having a mental health crisis while he's in Brazil with Keeley, who is so far out of the loop in terms of what is going on and trying her best not to make it worse. Meanwhile Roy is stranded back in London, losing his mind over the very troubling texts he's receiving from the both of them.

This one is going to be wrapped in trigger warnings. Nothing graphic, but Jamie's head is not a happy place and some of what he's 'remembering' paints a very bad picture of how that night went as his brain plays fill-in-the-trauma-blanks.

Here's a fairly long snippet. No immediate trigger warnings apply:

Keeley woke with a start. Choking on a gasp, her eyes scanned frantically around the cheery little room of the villa where they were staying. The accommodations were lovely. Even in the dark, the bright paintings and fresh flowers caught the ambient light from the window, cradling the room in a dim and soothing warmth. The air smelled sweetly of orchids.

She'd heard someone scream.

She didn't know how long she'd sat there, her breath rattling in her chest. She listened desperately for a follow up sound- anything that would politely let her know if she was about to be murdered. She didn't even have her normal keychain with her - the one with the thingy on it for breaking windows and tail lights. They wouldn't let you bring that sort of thing through customs, and, fuck, she should've taken Rebecca up on the offer to use the jet. Now someone was coming to murder her and all she'd have to defend herself was a flower pot.

Unless she could sneak to the kitchen. There were knives in the kitchen; Jamie had used a big knife that morning to cut up fruit for his smoothie-

Jamie.

Her worries flipped upside-down. She flung her feet out of bed before she realised what she was doing.

Tiptoeing the short distance down the hallway, she came to a pause in front of the other bedroom. She listened closely.

Jamie wasn't a snorer - not like she was - but he wasn't exactly quiet either. He made soft, wheezy little noises when he slept. She'd always thought it was cute.

On the other side of his bedroom door, the room was loudly silent.

Keeley swallowed. Her hand raised to knock, but she hesitated at the last second. Her fist looked small against the impressive stature of the door.

The longer she stood still, the louder the silence grew. He was awake; she knew it.

"Jamie?" she whispered gently. "Are you up, love?"

Something rustled. Maybe. It could've been the air, or her own bare feet shifting against the floor.

It's only a wooden door, she thought fiercely, her eyes beginning to sting. It's only a few metres. But I don't want to make you upset again. I need you to tell me it's okay- that we're okay. Jamie. Please.

The room on the other side of the door remained deathly silent.

Time stretched for a millennia as she trembled in the hallway.

Woodenly, she lowered her fist. She padded softly towards the kitchen.

When she returned, she carried a steaming mug of hot chocolate. Well, the closest thing to it that she could whip together with what had come in the gift basket and what was stocked in the fridge. Without tea, she didn't know what else to do.

"There's a drink out here for you, babe," she whispered through the door. She knelt down to put the mug and it's makeshift saucer-plate on the tile. "If you need-"

Anything. Anything at all.

"-I'm right down the hall. Okay?"