#Orchid Villa | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

punk-in-docs · 3 months ago

Text

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

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 as she wraps the belt around your waist. Speaking as she does.

“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.

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

#punkwrites #joseph quinn #emperor geta #geta x reader #geta #gladiator #gladiator 2 #violence tw #death threats tw #blood tw #nudity tw #i would die for this man #geta is gross #but caracalla is worse by far

191 notes · View notes

cosmicanger · 3 months ago

Text

Orchid Villa (2022)

114 notes · View notes

ophelian-darling · 2 years ago

Note

hiiii!! can you write something with giorno with prompts 46 and 63? in which giorno lets darling out after months to meet up with some old friends (of course he has to be there too) and one of them (either girl or boy, it's up to you) is wayyyy too touchy with darling? and he gets jealous and possessive, wanting to go home as soon as possible.

and darling tries to calm him down, telling him that she only loves him and they cuddle & kiss aajahhaaha

you can also do it with gn reader, but i would like female. how you are more comfortable with!! much love <3

"I don't like them, don't ask me to be nice"

"A friend ? you call them a friend when they have their hands and eyes all over your body ?"

TW: Jealousy, Obsession, Possessiveness, Implied emotional manipulation.

enjoy ♡

The room basked in a warm shade of morning sun; casting its joy through the air to your smiling face as you stood in front of the vanity mirror, admiring your dolled reflection with glinting eyes. Giorno blessed your morning with good tidings: you were finally allowed to go out- not exactly what he told you, but it meant having some gentle breeze and sunshine caresses nonetheless.

Your Sweetheart said that he had an important matter to attend to, and it would be nice if you accompanied him (There was no way you'd refuse, memorizing the corners of the Villa exhausted your mind) and you gladly accepted. He mentioned the presence of his most trusted subordinates and close friends, and you couldn't be happier, a sweet excitement blinking in your eyes.

"Aren't you the prettiest?" it fell from his tongue, sugary in words and adoring in tone. Everything he says casted a certain magic on you that made you forget how intolerable he was with his jealousy and strict with his instructions concerning you: from your clothing, choice of words and comportment. Blamed be anything that pulled on the strings of his head whenever it was about you: other people's stares, pricks of the tiniest thorn or could be even a drift of air; to him, you were something that meant to be put on a pedestal, more of a porcelain marionette that its sob was a shatter.

A shy smile toned your lips while a heat bloomed on your cheeks. These simple words felt like a pink cloud; soft and loving in a way so special another human couldn't know how to offer. Despite all of his thorns, Giorno carried a constant love for you, for all your flaws and each speck of dust you stepped on, for every breath you took and word you uttered. His tiring Jealousy was dark, but a side to the brightness of his affection's moon; none of it was out of pure malice.

He plastered a quick kiss to your cheek "We're not going to take long, just five minutes and we will come back home again. If you're a good girl, I'll consider taking you somewhere nice"

You nodded. the same dreamy smile contouring your face with warmth.

"Buongiorno, Don Giovanna!" a brunette greeted, with a soft voice of a spring rain. as you both stepped into the small orchard, her appearance welcomed you next.

Lovely. She was lovely, in every letter of the word and in every meaning of a tongue.

Her skin, tan as a cloud's shadow, glowed under the morning's sun, refined as fine silk and smooth as fair sand. Her eyes sang for most of her loveliness- sorrel shade of brown, one of a rosewood or an orchid flower. you couldn't help but to stare. she smiled at you, revealing a row of pearls in her mouth.

"Welcome, Signora Giovanna, it's a pleasure to see you at last!" she swan gracefully, showing her full front; up from her amphora-shaped neck, middling to her tender cleavage and down to her hips that wrapped felinely under a pencil skirt.

Your shy smile must have conveyed something else for her. as she extended her hand for you, you took it a little stronger than you intended, causing her to pull you a little bit closer as to ease your nerves with a friendly gesture. Now looking at her through a distance she deserved to be beheld at, you noticed how a dark mole complimented under her left eye, as if it was a speck of black pearl's dust.

"Nice to see you Belladonna"

"T-thank you" you gave her another grateful smile.

"You're as pretty as I heard. no wonder that the Don is being such a genie" she chuckled, pulling on your heartstrings even more "He has quite a fair treasure. you're really something yourself, Signora"

A laugh was all that you had to offer, words on your tongue weren't enough to mirror her flattery, one that kissed heat on your cheeks. She was just so sweet.

"Tesorina?" It jumped to your attention now that her hand was still on yours.

You glanced at your side, where Giorno stood up: his face twisted into sullen lineaments, green eyes darkened just a tad under. you conned all of his expressions as much as you remembered the palm of your hand; your heart sank at how a pleasant walk outside was bound to be ruined from the very first minutes, all thanks to a woman you barely knew.

He pursed his lips in one tight line. as he ushered with his head to his side, you caught the drift and walked up to him.

"We're going home, now"

"You do seem eager to gloat yourself in other people's attention, as if I don't give you enough already"

"She was just being nice! none of what you're thinking was actually happening!"

"Now having the audacity to lie in my face and deny what I've seen?!"

"Nothing actually happened!" your hands flew around your head, while you did your best to compose your tone to be still. While he maintained his own anger at times you argued, he didn't want to hear your voice get louder at him in return. experiencing quarrels with him many times before, you knew that you were able to pacify things from your side by not fighting back, and saying what he wanted to hear the most.

"Gio…" you drew a meek smile "I don't have eyes on her at all. in fact, I don't see anyone else aside from you"

His face remained still, clearly unimpressed by your words. you had to try better than this, and taking a step closer to him would start it.

"I'm really sorry if you've seen something you didn't like, but please believe me when I say that she didn't do anything direct to me, nor did I like her in any sense. She was just acting like a friend"

He quirked an eyebrow "A friend? you call her a friend when she has her hands and eyes all over your body? you can't be this naive"

You felt a flutter in your heart. surely his paranoia was concerning ; yet you couldn't help but to feel a pang of guilt at letting him think that you weren't interested in him anymore. The idea of you preferring someone else over him was still carved in his head, and probably will never be erased unless you manage to prove your true loyalty to him.

"Did she? I didn't notice at all. but can you please be a little nicer next time in front of others? it was rude to treat someone like that" you rested your palms on his shoulders, now looking straight through his eyes.

"Don't ask me to be nice, everyone knows who you are and who I am. I don't like how she expects you to simply speak to her as if you aren't my wife"

"Aww!" you just laughed, planting a kiss in hopes of softening his rigid face. He is handsome- a smile on his lips meant a heaven full of stars to you.

Warmly, he enveloped you in a tender embrace, thumbs cosseting the sides of your cheek. You let yourself melt in his form, feeling his lulling pulse and kneading lips on your ribs and face, never feeling so revered than ever.

The description of the female character included in this piece was inspired from this oc.

355 notes · View notes

bernardperroudart · 2 months ago

Text

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

#architecture

10 notes · View notes

look-sharp-notes · 5 months ago

Text

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

16 notes · View notes

jamiesfootball · 9 months ago

Note

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?"

#ask box is always open #thank you for your lovely remarks!#fic: the one that makes you sick #talking about the amsterdam of it all #keeley jones #jamie tartt #writing progress #writing snippet

18 notes · View notes

socialistexan · 9 months ago

Text

After my full series watch through, I've put together a list of guilty pleasure Doctor Who stories.

These are stories that are either 1) rated poorly by the Doctor Who fandom but I really enjoy, 2) stories that I ranted poorly but really enjoyed, or 3) have aspects that are widely mocked but I love. I'll try not to count stories that are rated above a 7 by the fandom that I am even higher on (like Warriors' Gate, Kinda, The Haunting Of Villa Diodati) with one notable exception.

(formated as Story (my score / fan score): reason why)

The Chase (7.9 / 6.6):

I adore the campy and just flat out wacky vibe of this serial. From the companions dancing to the Beatles on the Time-Space television to the Daleks fighting Dracula, the Frankenstein Monster, and a Banshee and LOSING. Just so much fun. Pure 60's nonsense.

Monster of Peladon (6.6 / 5.3):

Anyone noticing a pattern? I love camp. I love wacky designs. I love off the wall ideas and bizarre design. I love Alpha Centari. Is this story good, oh g-d no. Did I have fun? You bet.

Invasion of the Dinosaurs (8.0 / 7.5):

Only because people love to hate the rubber Dinosaurs in this episode, but I absolutely adore them. I'm a sucker for kinda crappy practical effects, like, that's why I'm watching this show. I ordered the lemonade!

More under the cut since this is a long post

Image of the Fendahl (8.1 / 5.8(!)):

How is the story not more embraced as a near-classic by the fandom? I'll never know. It has fantastic direction, acting (even from the guest cast which was a rarity in classic Who at times), tone, atmosphere, and vibes. The story is a little derivative of, say, The Daemons, and it has a slightly slower pace with more quiet scenes (though that's a positive for me), but that's really it.

Black Orchid (7.8 / 6.5):

I tended to be higher on shorter serials that felt right for their length and didn't overstay their welcome, and this is that kind of story. Was it amazing? No. Did we get a few fun moments in a non-scifi story? Yeah.

Timelash (4.0 / 4.2)

This is one of the worst episodes the show has ever done, but at least it's the fun kind of bad. It's just so out there and takes so many chances, I kind of commend it for that. It's in that So Bad It's Good territory for me.

Paradise Towers (7.4 / 6.4):

This was camp from the lens of the late-80's. The aesthetics and tone are like a surrealist dream. I think Happiness Patrol is a better version of this story, but you really can't top the neon crab eyes, the roving girl gangs in bright colors, the Monty Python style farsical parody of fascism, or the evil lesbian cannibal grandmas.

New Earth (7.3 / 6.1)

This might be nostalgia talking, but I love this episode. Tennant and Piper are delightful. The cat nurses are so much fun. AND CASSANDRA MY BELOVED. I know 10's first season was rough, but man I loved this.

The Halloween Apocalypse (8.0 / 6.6)

I can could put A LOT of 13's episodes on here, because I was higher on a lot of her episodes (Eve of the Daleks is another I could have chosen here), but I'll pick this one because I was just delighted the whole way through. Big ouppy! Dan's house shrinking! A Nitro-9 reference! And it's set on the best day of the year, Halloween!

#Doctor who #the chase doctor who #image of the fendahl #monster of peladon #invasion of the dinosaurs #black orchid #paradise towers #new earth #the halloween apocalypse

15 notes · View notes

longbobmckenzie · 2 years ago

Text

Tips for writing a villa fic

If you pay attention to Love Island the Game fanfiction at all, you've probably read a villa fic or two, or a hundred. They can be a lot of fun, and the nature of the game lends itself really well to the concept. Which is why so many people have started writing villa fics of their own... and yet, so few finish them, or even come close.

Well, I’ve written more than my fair share of villa fics, ranging from a 3k word oneshot (yes, really) to a 230k word start-to-finish Season 2 Bobby fic, and I’ve read a whole lot more, so I've learned a thing or two about the genre.

So, I figured I’d share some of my tips, and ask some of my writer friends for their input (thanks @queen-of-boops, @rebelrayne, and @thoracic-orchid), and here we are!

Buckle in, because this gets long (much like my fics!)

Tip #1: Recognize that it’s a lot of work

It takes a long, long time to write a full villa fic, especially if it’s Season 2 and you’re starting on Day 1 and going right up to the final (and beyond?). We’re talking months of work, maybe even years depending on how much time you have to dedicate to it. My first fic (230k words) took me 9-10 months to write, and that was during COVID lockdown when I didn’t really have much else to do.

This isn’t meant to discourage you at all, but I’ve seen so, so many villa fics get published and never get past the first few chapters. Sometimes they even get 20-30 chapters in before the author loses interest or just plain runs out of free time. It’s a commitment, but it can definitely be done!

This especially applies to “All Star” villa fics or season crossovers. Kudos to those who attempt it and especially those who finish (I know of only one person who’s managed this off the top of my head), but trust me, it’s hard enough writing a villa fic, writing a crossover is putting it on evil mode.

Also consider if you’re writing from a male character’s POV (the LI, perhaps, or a male MC) that you’ll probably need to write more “boys only” scenes, so a little extra creativity is required (I could never, honestly).

Tip #2: Have a plan

I cannot stress this enough. Easy for me to say since I’m an outliner at heart anyway, but I’m in the middle of writing a villa fic and even with an outline, I’m still going back and tweaking early chapters (tip within a tip: write a few chapters before publishing anything!) when my plan changes slightly.

But having a clear direction of where you want to take the fic and planning out plot points, recouplings, dumpings, etc. is extremely important. Especially when you start going off-canon (more on that in a bit) or when you get to days where literally nothing happens in the villa.

The nice thing about villa fics is that you’ve already got a structure to work with, you just have to plan how you want your characters’ relationship(s) to develop and how to drive the plot.

Tip #3: You don’t always have to stick to the plan

That said, characters sometimes do things you didn’t plan for. And that’s okay! Sometimes. There are times you need to assert your will, but other times, things will change and you just need to re-evaluate your outline. And that’s okay… within reason.

For example, in Whiskey & Scotch, my plan was always for Bobby to be the endgame LI. Somewhere along the line, I fell in love with Henrik, and people really liked him and my OC together (mild spoiler: they were coupled up for a time). I was extremely tempted to blow up my outline to make it work for them, but the groundwork was laid for Bobby to be endgame, and I had scenes planned that had been living in my head for months by that point that I was excited for. It just didn’t make sense to make Henrik the LI (which is why I’m now working on a rewrite/alternate ending, because I still love them together even years later).

On the other side, at the post-Casa Amor dumping, Noah was single and I’d planned for him to save Hope. She was already a bit of a villain, they had history, it just made sense. But when I was writing the scene, I was completely stuck on his speech. I got a crazy/evil idea and had him save someone else instead. It changed a lot and I had to rework my outline a bit, but it worked out so well that I can’t imagine doing it the way I’d intended.

Tip #4: Watch the show

This is optional (technically, they all are), but it really is helpful on so many levels. It can give you an idea of the villa layout (Seasons 3-5 and 7 of the show all use the same villa), give you ideas for challenges, dialogue, plot ideas, etc. The show uses a host instead of the opening scene and some of the dumpings being done through text, generally it’s the boys picking the girls on day 1 instead of the girls, etc.

There are also more rules on the show that don’t make it into the game. Again, totally optional, but to make it a bit more realistic you could limit the islanders’ alcohol consumption (or let them get completely shit-faced if that works for your plot), take away all clocks, refer to their microphones occasionally, etc.

Also, like… I’ve never seen anyone on the show have sex on the terrace, but it happens in the game. You want your characters getting it on out in the open like that? By all means. But if you prefer a bit more realism, stick to the bedroom and hideaway. The bathroom is communal, but hey, the shower works too.

If you want to add challenges to your fic, I like to use this website for ideas. It lists most of the challenges from season 3 onwards, including results and video. It’s a great resource.

Tip #5: Kiss canon goodbye

There are definitely readers out there who prefer fics that follow canon, and to each their own. Personally, I’ve played the game over and over, read a whole bunch of fics, and written a bunch of fics, so I’m kinda sick of canon. Plus, sometimes canon just sucks or doesn’t make sense. So don’t be afraid to stray from canon, toss it into a ball and throw it out the window, or stomp all over it.

First, the dialogue. We’ve all read it over and over, got it practically memorized. Feel free to change it! In fact, please do! You can keep some lines and change the responses to completely alter a conversation, or make slight adjustments, or just… not include it at all, if you want. You can take out canon scenes and replace them with your own. Or keep them and just change who-did-what. Etc, etc. Make it your own!

Second, individual scenes. It’s okay to cut them. We don’t need to see Noah singing Toto on the daybed with Hope and Rocco walking by singing Wonderwall. Cutting it will not negatively impact your fic in any way.

What about challenges? Well… they can be cut too. Ask yourself, do they drive the plot? Is it necessary? For example, the day 4 slime challenge. Priya grinds on Noah despite not needing his colour, Lottie gets mad, blah blah blah. We know. The reader most likely knows. But unless you’re making MC’s drama the primary focus, you can cut it and just write a paragraph of narration telling us why the girls are fighting. The reader will understand and most likely appreciate that they didn’t have to skim through it.

Hell, you can skip recouplings, dumpings, even whole days. Trust me, I’ve done it. If you’re primarily sticking to a timeline that generally follows canon and not really messing with what’s going on with the other islanders, you can absolutely skip over that stuff and keep the focus solely on your MC and their LI. You can even still make slight changes to canon and just narrate what happened.

Basically, what you keep depends on what you’re trying to do with your fic. If you want to do the whole villa experience thing, keep as much as you want. If you just want to write a love story between two people who happen to be in the villa, you can cut out anything and everything that doesn’t in some way develop their relationship.

Also, you don’t have to start on day 1. Or if you do, you don’t have to start with the MC arriving at the villa. Be creative! And along the same veins, you don’t have to end it with the final. Heck, your characters don’t have to even make the final!

Tip #6: Read other fics

Again, you don’t have to do this. Plenty of villa fic writers don’t read other people’s villa fics. But I do think it’s a good idea, especially if you want to write a Bobby or Lucas fic (picking on the most popular characters because they have the most fics written for them).

You’ll be able to get some ideas of how other people did it – how much canon they kept in, how much they cut, how they made the story their own – but you’ll also get a good idea of what’s been done before. MC and Bobby are immediately attracted to each other right from the start? Great… but how are you going to make yours different from the other hundred fics that do that? Lucas switches to Blake? Okay yes, that’s canon – but are you going to keep it? What motivations are you going to give him? Maybe MC switches too?

And this isn’t to say that if someone else has an idea for something, you can’t do the same thing. Especially for people who watch the show, there have been a number of situations where people will have the same ideas. I’ve had it where I’ve had scenes planned or written only to read someone else’s fic and seen almost the exact same thing. It happens! Obviously don’t plagiarize, but it’s okay to have the same idea. And if anyone accuses you of stealing ideas, have them send their hate mail to me (don’t actually do that).

Tip #7: Write what you want to read

The reason I got into fanfiction and wrote my first villa fic in the first place was because I had an idea that I thought would be really interesting to read. I didn’t think anyone else was gonna come up with the same idea, though, so I wrote it myself.

I don’t know what sort of motivations other writers have when they start writing their fics, but if you have an idea, you just might be the best candidate to write it.

Tip #8: Don’t do it alone

Find a beta reader if you can (note: it’s not always easy, especially since villa fics are a huge commitment), but even if you can’t get someone to edit for you, getting someone who can give constructive criticism is extremely helpful – if you’re open to listening. They can help you figure out what works, what doesn’t, and what to work on.

Most importantly, though, find someone you can bounce ideas off of. If you’re struggling writing a scene, or need some ideas to help with a character’s motivation or dialogue, or you have a crazy idea and need some validation or advice… having someone you can go to is the best. All of my fics are better thanks to the people who helped, whether it was in big ways or little.

Tip #9: Develop your main character

Okay this is the tip that I don’t actually listen to myself 🤣 I’m a storyteller, so my fics tend to be more about the plot than the character arc, but having more well-rounded, developed characters is something I wish I were better at. If you know who your character is – their voice, their habits, their likes and dislikes, their family and relationship histories – it’ll be easier to write them. And the same goes for the canon characters as well! Give them more of a backstory! Give them siblings and heartbreaks! Especially with a villa fic where, unless they’re doing a challenge, they do nothing but sit around all day and have chats, you need stuff for them to talk about. This goes for group conversations, too – sometimes you just need to have some ideas of things they can talk about.

Now, I will say that I don’t think every MC needs to have heartbreak in their past (maybe they’re the heartbreaker?) or some sort of sob story. Those are common tropes in your regular run-of-the-mill romance story, and there’s nothing wrong with it, but it all goes hand-in-hand with your character’s motivations and how you want their relationship with the LI to develop. You can go that direction, but don’t feel you have to. If the story you have planned doesn’t need a character with a tragic past, then just have them be an average Joe.

Also, just a minor pet peeve of mine… your MC doesn’t have to be this super perceptive person who gets everyone’s answers right in Two Truths and a Lie. It’s day 2, c’mon. And they don't need to be the girl that all the guys in the villa are falling all over themselves to be with – is it more interesting for 4-5 guys to be into MC or for MC to be interested in someone only to be turned down? Just food for thought.

Tip #10: Choose the right POV

There’s no right or wrong POV, so choose whatever’s comfortable for you and your fic. But just note that readers do have their preferences (some people are strongly opposed to 1st and/or 2nd POV, for example). For a chaptered villa fic, it doesn’t really make sense to use 2nd person POV (“you” pronouns) because you’re telling the story of a main character who isn’t really generic. For oneshots/series where you’re writing snapshots of the villa, that might be what works for you, though.

As for 1st and 3rd, there are pros and cons to both. I chose to write my first villa fic in 1st because I really wanted the focus to be on my MC and seeing the villa through her eyes. Basically, if she didn’t see it or hear about it, I wasn’t going to include it. Other than that fic, though, I’ve primarily written in 3rd and it’s made me a better writer.

If you want to alternate POV between your MC and the LI (and maybe some of the side characters as well, as there are some people who do that), I recommend sticking to 3rd POV, because it can be a little confusing for the reader to remember whose POV they’re reading when it’s in 1st.

And there you have it! Ten tips to think about before (or during) embarking on your own villa fic. Good luck!

#litg #litg ff #litg fanfic #litg fanfiction #writing

55 notes · View notes

orchidpiccadilly · 1 year ago

Text

Orchid Piccadilly Apartments in Thanisandra Your Gateway to Modern Living

Introduction:

Are you in search of the perfect blend of comfort, style, and convenience in the bustling city of Bangalore? The Orchid Piccadilly Apartments in Thanisandra are the only place to look. Nestled in one of Bangalore's rapidly developing neighbourhoods, these apartments offer a lifestyle that caters to your every need.

Location

One of the key factors that make Orchid Piccadilly Apartments in Thanisandra stand out is their strategic location. Thanisandra, located in North Bangalore, has emerged as a highly sought-after residential destination. Its proximity to the Kempegowda International Airport, major IT hubs like Manyata Tech Park, and excellent connectivity via the Outer Ring Road make it an ideal choice for professionals and families alike.

Amenities

Orchid Piccadilly Apartments are designed to provide residents with a truly modern living experience. The project offers an array of amenities that cater to your recreational and everyday needs. From a swimming pool and fitness center to landscaped gardens and a children's play area, there's something for everyone. The 24/7 security and dedicated maintenance team ensure a safe and hassle-free living environment.

Spacious Living Spaces

These apartments offer a range of configurations to suit your requirements, whether you're a young professional, a couple, or a family. The spacious and well-ventilated living spaces are designed to maximise natural light and airflow, creating an inviting and comfortable atmosphere.

Green Spaces

In today's fast-paced world, having access to green spaces is a luxury. Orchid Piccadilly Apartments in Thanisandra understand the importance of nature in our lives and provide lush green areas for residents to relax and rejuvenate. Enjoy your morning coffee or an evening stroll in the beautifully landscaped gardens.

Community and Connectivity

Living at Orchid Piccadilly Apartments means being part of a vibrant and close-knit community. Regular social events and activities foster a sense of belonging. Additionally, the proximity to schools, hospitals, shopping centers, and entertainment options ensures that you have everything you need within reach.

Investment Opportunity

Whether you're looking for a place to call home or an investment opportunity, Orchid Piccadilly Apartments offer both. The rapidly developing Thanisandra locality is expected to see appreciable growth in property value, making it a smart choice for investors.

conclusion: Orchid Piccadilly Apartments in Thanisandra are a testament to modern living, offering a blend of comfort, convenience, and style. With its strategic location, amenities, spacious living spaces, and green surroundings, it's a place where you can truly live your best life. Don't miss out on the opportunity to make Orchid Piccadilly Apartments in Thanisandra your home in Bangalore.

#Orchid Piccadilly Apartments in Thanisandra #Orchid Piccadilly Thanisandra #Orchid Piccadilly Villas in Thanisandra

0 notes

cursed-and-haunted · 1 year ago

Text

MUSIC TAG GAME. thanks for tagging me @the-ghost-bird

Rules: shuffle your On Repeat playlist and post the first 10 tracks, then tag 10 people.

Nightshade by Blood Orchid

You're Mine by Phantogram

DRIP by Crywolf

Who By Fire by Leonard Cohen

Achilles Come Down by Gang of Youths

His Hands by Blegh

Brutus by The Buttress

Revolver by Zach Villa

Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God) by Kate Bush

Doom & Gloom by Blood Orchid

Leaving this as an open tag so anyone who wants to do it feel free to say I tagged you :)

#mine #tag game

18 notes · View notes

kimium · 1 year ago

Note

What are your top 5 headcanons for Rook/Vil? 👀👀👀

Oh hi friend! Thank you so much for this ask! As you (and many) are aware, Rook/Vil is my favourite ship in Twisted Wonderland. I'm always so happy to talk about them. Before I get started though, I do want to make it clear that 1) This is just my opinion and my headcanons and 2) I play in the ENG server, so if there is something either I haven't seen because it's in the JP server or because of some "lost in translation" thing, sorry.

My Top Five Headcanons for Rook/Vil

5. Vil has met Rook's parents. The first time was entirely accidental.

With Rook casually revealing to Epel and Yuu that his family is rich and owns many villas around the world, there had to be a point that Rook offered one of the villas to Vil. Perhaps Vil was in the middle of some photo shoots, press tour, or acting and needed a place to stay. Or maybe it was a rare break for Vil from both work and school and Rook decided to offer one of his family villas as a get away.

Regardless, I love the image of Rook and Vil in a cozy villa, overlooking the ocean or maybe an orchid across the way owned by some family that Rook loves talking to every morning. They're enjoying the time together, playing a little bit of house. One morning Vil walks downstairs, expecting only Rook at the table, when he meets Mr. and Mrs. Hunt. I bet this is embarrassing not only because Vil isn't 100% put together but because he's not put together because of Rook. It's a first impression Vil wishes he could scrub from everyone's minds, but Rook's parents find it charming and adorable.

4. Vil and Rook's relationship is an "open secret" at NRC. No one is going to tell the media though; they like living.

Like many famous people, I think Vil wishes to keep his love life mostly out of the public eye/media. Not that he's attempting to hide his relationship with Rook (impossible on campus), but Vil hasn't made some public announcement. Why would he want to? The media already hounds him 24/7. (Vil thanks the Seven every day that NRC has strict rules about media presence on campus.) It also isn't that he doesn't want to someday announce happily to the world that Rook is his, it's just for now Vil is fine with the open secret.

I also think it's hilarious to imagine all of Pomefiore (and majority of campus) to either decide 1) It's really none of my business if Vil and Rook are dating. I'm staying in my lane. Or 2) Wouldn't it be funny if we collectively ignored every tabloid reporter or journalist looking for an easy story. Vil deserves his privacy from those vultures. Like, I'm imagining whenever students are off campus tabloid reporters are always waiting to "ask them questions" about -insert character in the major public eye-. All the students just blankly look at the reporters or say "WHO? I've never heard of him" to their questions.

3. Rook nearly got escorted off a set by security the first time he came to drop off something Vil forgot.

Sort of tying into my prior one, since Vil and Rook aren't publicly announcing they're dating there had to be ONE time that this happened. In the security guard's defense, they're used to people trying to sneak in claiming to either know Vil or sent to deliver something to him. Sure, Rook is in the NRC uniform, but that doesn't mean free access. However, those poor security guards probably had to sit through Rook wax poetically about their "devotion to their jobs" or something like that. It's a good thing Vil personally stepped out to meet Rook and didn't sent an intern or personal manager. Those guards would have been stuck for hours.

Also, imagining the guard's surprise when Vil sighs, walks up to this weird man spouting poetry (with random French intermingled), and drags him off with a "sorry, he's with me".

2. Rook and Vil have probably one of the spiciest sex lives.

Here is my one (1) sexy idea you'll get out of me for this list. I have many ideas but I don't want to share all of them. What I want to say is I think Rook and Vil are open to trying many things together and put their 100% into it. Sure they have boundaries but they're mature enough to communicate so it's fun and comfortable for both parties. They just know each other so well and are always on the same wave length! This translates to their love lives and I think it's Relationship Goals.

Rook is the one to propose to Vil.

While I think Vil wouldn't be opposed to proposing, ultimately I think Rook is the one who does it. It just suits him. Rook is already a romantic at heart. He's planning the proposal well in advance and doesn't even need to ask Vil his hand size because Rook already knows that. The proposal is a private one, definitely not a public proposal, but it's so soft, sweet, and filled with romance that it's truly a day Vil remembers fondly. Afterwards I think the first people Vil tells besides their parents are Jack and Epel. I love Vil's friendship with Jack and there is no way Epel wouldn't be one of the first. Though while Jack is very excited for his friend and congratulates him eagerly, I bet Epel sits there going "It's about DAMN TIME". Vil reflex scolds Epel.

(Also, Vil 100% takes over all wedding preparations. While Rook is calmly taking all of this in stride I think Jack, who is the best man despite believing someone else would be better, is overwhelmed. Epel is ready to Scream and throw something at Vil. Trey is in charge of baking the wedding cake and the poor man somehow manages to balance Vil's micro-managing and Rook's "passionate" nature.)

There we have it! My top five headcanons for Rook/Vil. I hope you like my ideas, friend! If there is anything you want to add for yourself, feel free!

#personal #twisted wonderland #rook/vil #rookvil #my headcanons

37 notes · View notes