#Timeless Crystal Collections

[subbalakshmisastry]

Timeless Crystal Collections, Timeless Exhibition @ Swarovski Crystal Wo...

[hcneymooners]

⋆ down and out, you got me beggin' for thread.

milf!landlord!ambessa x oblivious!f!reader. men & minors dni. synopsis: in your defense, you just thought she was being an attentive landlord. and then the dinner happened. cw: landlord!ambessa, milf!ambessa, oblivious!reader, age difference, older woman/younger woman, domination, dom/sub, dom!ambessa, sub!reader, ambessa puts you in your place i fear, sweet!reader, oral sex, cunnilingus (ambessa!receiving), bessa has a clit hood piercing whoops, face riding, vaginal fingering (r!receiving), overstimulation, strength kink, praise kink, rough body play, reader is large-chested, cfnf (clothed female, naked female), crawling, kneeling, hair pulling, dirty talk, flirting, seduction, ambessa clocking your shit, she ain't new to this but she's true to this & she's gonna wear you out. notes: i have nothing to say for myself.

in your defense, you just thought she was committed to being a really lovely landlord.

you’d been somewhat isolated from the rest of your neighbors in the condominium, having moved in late and missed all the arranged social activities. they regarded you as a strange little creature—thick hair in an unruly shock, a mouth so full it seemed perpetually pouting. work kept you coming home late most nights, shoes in hand as you climbed the wooden stairs quietly, mindful of the many elderly residents whose comfort you took care not to disturb.

you lived alone, a choice that often worried your family but one you adored. walking through your door to complete silence, greeted by the heavy coffee-and-baby-powder smoke of your newest candle, made it easier to disassociate from whatever unhappiness followed you in from the world outside.

you’d made no effort to distinguish yourself among the residents. even moving in had been a seamless affair—a blur of efficiency as six absurdly lanky movers wrestled your antique french pieces (all dark wood) through the narrow doorway, your winces punctuating every scrape against the walls.

the flat was small but sweetened undeniably by your touch. the floor plan alone had elicited a stifled gasp of horror from your father when you’d sent it to him during a call—confirmation, if you needed it, that you’d made the right choice. your bedroom, however, was the crown jewel.

it was your favorite indulgence, an unapologetic display of your heart & taste, and just a touch of impracticality. the mirrored wall behind the bed was its most divisive feature, reflecting the soft, amber glow of the lamps into endless repetitions of warmth. your father would have grimaced if he saw it, muttering something about "too much light bouncing around," but to you, it felt decadent.

the bed, wide and heavy, was dressed in pale linens with a subtle fringe that seemed to collect light like dew. it was the kind of bed that swallowed you whole, that made you linger in the mornings even when you couldn’t afford to. you’d agonized over the exact shade when choosing the bedding—anything too dark would have clashed with the mirrored nightstands, which were precariously balanced between timeless and ostentatious.

the carpeting was thick enough to mute every footstep, though the faded champagne hue had long since been out of fashion. still, you loved it, the way it dulled the room’s sharper edges. a chandelier hung overhead, small but undeniably glamorous, its crystals catching the light like a handful of stolen stars.

t wasn’t a large room by any means, but it didn’t need to be. it was yours, unmistakably so, and that was enough.

so, of course, it would be the first thing to fall prey to maintenance.

the first drip was forgivable. pipes groaned in older buildings, after all, and you were nothing if not patient. the second drip came faster, followed by the slow, insidious spread of water along the grout of your ensuite floor. you pressed your palm to your forehead, sighed, and stared at the mirror, still smudged from a half-hearted cleaning spree earlier in the week. the bathroom had charm—aged brass fixtures, a vintage vanity—but that charm was waning fast as the puddle grew.

it was past midnight, but you decided you had no choice. wrapping your robe tighter around your waist, you picked up your phone and dialed the number your landlord’s assistant—did they all have assistants?— had given you at move-in, cringing as it rang.

“do you know what time it is?” ambessa’s voice came through, low and sharp, cutting through your groggy apology before you could finish.

“yes, and i’m so sorry, ms. medarda,” you rushed out, cradling the phone against your ear as you stepped around the puddle. “it’s just—there’s a leak, and it’s spreading. i didn’t want to call maintenance without your permission, but honestly, i think the bathroom could use some updating while we’re at it—”

“where’s the leak?” she interrupted.

“in the ensuite. just off the bedroom.”

a pause, long enough to make you nervous. “i’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

you blinked. “oh, no, that’s not—”

the line clicked dead.

true to her word, ambessa arrived twenty minutes later, sharp knocks echoing through your quiet flat. you’d changed into your cotton pajamas by then—a soft rosy brown set with little embroidered daisies, complete with a matching sleep mask pushed up into your hair. billie holiday crooned softly from your record player as you opened the door, clutching your robe around you and smiling sheepishly.

ambessa was the kind of beautiful that made you forget yourself. she filled your doorway as if she belonged there, her broad shoulders wrapped in a perfectly tailored coat that hung just so, framing her with an air of command. the silver threading her tight, thick cornrows caught the dim light, lending her a sharpness that bordered on regal, and her eyes—dark, unyielding—pinned you in place without even trying.

you noticed the subtle tension in her jaw, the way her gloves creaked faintly as she pulled them off with deliberate care, and for a moment, you felt ridiculous in your thin pajamas and mask pushed askew on your forehead.

she was all clean lines and control, the kind of presence that demanded your full attention, and you were too overwhelmed to do anything but offer her a stammered “hello” as if she hadn’t just marched into your space and stolen all the air.

“thank you for coming, ms. medarda,” you said, stepping around her to close the door. “god, you must be freezing. would you like some tea? or something else that’s warm?”

ambessa’s eyes swept over you briefly—taking in the retro pajamas, the faint scent of your cucumber tea steeping on the stove—before she stepped inside, her boots clicking against the hardwood.

“let’s see the damage first. and just ambessa is fine.”

she was taller than you’d thought, filling the space of your small flat with an effortless command. you trailed behind her as she followed the faint sound of dripping into the ensuite.

“it’s outdated,” you offered nervously, watching her crouch to inspect the base of the sink. “i mean, charming, but maybe too charming? i wasn’t sure if you’d be okay with renovations, so i didn’t want to call anyone until i asked you first.”

ambessa straightened, the corners of her mouth tugging upward just slightly.

“that’s sweet of you. do what you'd like.”

you blinked at her. “oh. okay! that’s—so nice of you. i didn’t expect you to be so—” you caught yourself. “i mean, i really appreciate it.” she gave you a long look, something unreadable in her expression, before brushing past you back into the kitchen.

“you don’t have groceries,” she noted, her gaze falling on the empty fridge as you scrambled to tidy up.

“i have emergency pasta,” you said quickly, pulling out a box of whole-wheat spaghetti. “and cucumber tea. if you’re hungry, i can make something—it’s the least i can do.”

ambessa didn’t argue, though the arch of her brow suggested she wasn’t accustomed to being offered emergency pasta at one in the morning. you served her a steaming bowl and poured her tea into your favorite ceramic mug, rambling nervously about how you’d heard through maddie of 44b that her daughter was an artist.

she stayed just long enough to finish the tea, her presence heavy and warm in the quiet of your kitchen, before nodding once and heading out.

“call if it gets worse before the workers get here,” she said gruffly, her hand on the doorknob.

the next evening, you came home to several paper bags of groceries neatly stacked by your door, the scent of fresh pink peonies wafting up as you picked them up. you smiled, setting the flowers on the counter next to the dying ones your mum had sent last week.

this place is so lovely, you thought, unpacking the groceries. the tenants are so well taken care of.

your coworkers didn’t believe a word of it when you told them about ambessa the next day.

“she's sweet on you,” one of them said, shaking their head.

“no, she’s just attentive,” you insisted. “maternal, even. she told me all about her daughter!”

they exchanged knowing looks, and you laughed it off, already planning to send ambessa a thank-you card for the flowers.

❅

you’d gone overboard, but what else were you to do? gratitude came naturally to you, maybe too much so, but how else could you thank someone who had quietly made your life so much easier?

the cookies sat cooling on the counter, golden and soft with just the right crisp at the edges. their sweetness filled the air, blending with the candle you’d chosen—rich sandalwood and rose. it was warm and grounding, just like her. you couldn’t explain why it reminded you of ambessa, only that it did.

maybe it was the way the scent lingered, heavy and grounding. stronger than you. your toes curled as you imagined her voice rumbling low, praising your thoughtfulness.

the basket had become a small labor of love. you’d lined it with a cream linen napkin embroidered with tiny vines, each stitch as deliberate as your careful arrangement of the contents. the cookies rested in one corner, their warm scent still faintly clinging to the fabric, and the candle nestled beside them, a handwritten note tucked just so: “thank you for everything. your kindness means the world.”

you’d agonized over the wording for longer than you cared to admit, erasing, rewriting, and second-guessing every line before deciding it was small enough to be safe, heartfelt enough to feel honest.

your phone buzzed where it leaned precariously against a jar of flour, the screen alight with your sisters’ faces. their voices were lively and full of mischief, the kind that made you want to laugh and groan all at once.

“wait, wait, wait,” one of them said, holding up a dramatic hand to cut through the chatter. “groceries, flowers, a new faucet, and she expedited your laundry machine?”

“and called you sweet,” another chimed in, her eyebrows wiggling in mockery.

“and showed up herself in the middle of the night,” your mother added from the background, folding laundry with a knowing smile.

“again,” your father said dryly, his voice carrying a weight of exaggerated patience.

“it’s not like that,” you protested, though your cheeks flushed. you fiddled with the bow on the basket, unable to meet their eyes. “she’s just… thoughtful. i’m sure she does this for all her tenants.”

your eldest sister laughed, the sound of sharp disbelief that made you want to sink into the floor. “baby, she’s courting you.”

“she is not!” you exclaimed, though the wobble in your voice betrayed you.

“oh, please,” another sister cut in, leaning so close to the camera you could see the shimmer of her eyeshadow. “and you’re wearing that outfit to ‘just thank her’?”

you glanced down, your lips tugging between your teeth. the dress wasn’t exactly subtle. it was black with a scatter of delicate flowers, vintage couture that hugged your waist before flaring just slightly. the neckline dipped low, displaying your cleavage warmed by a healthy amount of body oil, and framed by playful ruffles and slim straps that skimmed your shoulders. it was bolder than you’d usually wear, but you’d told yourself it wasn’t intentional. not really.

your jewelry was simple: a thin gold chain, just enough to catch the light, and small hoops that didn’t overpower the dress. your hair was loose, soft, and shiny in a way you tried not to fuss over, though you’d tucked one side behind your ear so many times it had become a nervous habit.

“god help me,” your father muttered in the background, shaking his head with exaggerated weariness.

you stuck your tongue out at him before signing off, their teasing still echoing in your ears as you slipped out the door.

❅

the basket was warm in your hands, the evening air crisp against your skin as you made your way to ambessa’s flat.

when she opened the door, her expression softened in a way that sent your pulse skittering. she looked… comfortable in a v-neck sweater and soft sweatpants, yet undeniably commanding. her gaze flicked to the basket, then back to you, a smile tugging at her lips.

“i brought this to thank you,” you said, holding out the basket. “for the groceries and the flowers and everything. you’ve been so kind in taking care of me, and i didn’t want to let that go unnoticed.”

ambessa’s lips curved, just barely, and she stepped aside to let you in.

“you didn’t have to do that,” she said, her voice low and steady, but there was something in her tone—something soft beneath the steel. almost affectionate. “lord knows this has to be your eighth one.”

her flat was not what you expected.

it was spacious, sleek, and surprisingly modern, yet somehow still warm. the scent of cedar lingered in the air, layered with something citrusy and clean. dark leather furniture anchored the space, and bookshelves lined one wall. there were other hints of personality tucked in the corners: a golden tray brimming with jewelry, a small tray of perfumes that looked antique, and a faint scent of something savory wafting from the kitchen.

“you’ve been keeping them,” you said, surprised, your gaze landing on the basket you’d left earlier in the week.

“i like them,” she replied simply, pouring you a glass of wine. “you have good taste.”

you laughed softly, smoothing your hands over your dress.

“i found it at a farmers’ market. i miss going so much.”

“there’s one in the next town over,” she said, her tone so casual you almost missed the implication. “we could go this weekend.”

your lips parted in surprise, a laugh bubbling up. “it’s three hours away.”

“and?” she countered, one brow arching in amusement.

she motioned toward the dining table, where two plates were already set.

“i hope you’re hungry.”

❅

ambessa had made a hearty stew, rich and flavorful, served with warm bread that you couldn’t stop tearing into. you’d expected something simple and utilitarian, but the care she’d put into the meal surprised you. the food was rich and delicious, her hands moving with practiced ease as she served you.

“this is incredible,” you said, closing your eyes as you took another bite. “i don’t even want to know how long it took you to make this. it’s perfect.”

ambessa watched you, her gaze slightly hungry, but there was a flicker of amusement in her eyes.

“i’m glad you like it.”

you talked easily as you ate, though you couldn’t shake the way her attention lingered on you—penetrating but not unwelcome like she was studying you. the conversation drifted into quieter territory as the night went on. you’d almost forgotten what your family had said earlier—almost. but then, as the wine warmed your cheeks, the words slipped out before you could stop them.

“my family,” you said, voice light with embarrassment, “they were saying you were courting me. that you have designs to snatch me up.”

her gaze didn’t waver. “and if i do?”

your heart stumbled, and you choked. the air felt charged, the quiet hum of the flat suddenly deafening. you met her gaze, and for a moment, the world seemed to tilt.

“i was…” you swallowed hard, your voice softer now. “i was only joking.”

ambessa’s smile was slow, deliberate, and devastating.

“i don’t think you were. i mean you came here all dressed up for me,” she said, standing with a fluid grace that left you breathless. “tits practically begging for my mouth. so, joking? no. teasing? yes.”

when she crossed the space between you, there was no hesitation. her hand brushed your cheek, and she gripped your jaw tightly.

“all night,” she said lowly, “you’ve been moaning over your food. i wonder, do you make the same noises in bed?”

you flushed, skin warm and tingling.

“i—”

“and,” she cut you off, “do you eat the same way?”

she thumbed over your bottom lip, pinching it and then releasing it to watch the blood pool.

“you seem so hungry.”

your legs squeezed together beneath the table, your neck straining as you looked up at her. her eyes narrowed as she tilted your head back, idly bringing up her other hand to feel you swallow. seemingly satisfied she stepped back, freeing you as she moved back toward where she was sitting.

struggling to calm your breathing, you watched as she dragged the char back to where you sat and arranged it several inches away from you. casually, as if you weren’t dripping across from her, she lowered herself and spread her legs open. your gaze focused on the space between them, imagining yourself fitting perfectly within.

“[name],” she murmured. “look at me.”

you did.

“are you full?” you shook your head, hands clutching at your thighs. “mmm. would you like a taste, sweet girl?”

you shuddered and closed your eyes, biting the inside of your cheek to remain composed.

“yes. please.”

“come here.”

you rose, anxious to please, but she stopped you with a raised brow.

“no. crawl.”

you balked, warmth spreading down your neck and into your stomach. she shifted in irritation.

“i’m not going to ask you again.”

carefully, you lowered yourself to your hands and knees making sure to arch your back so that your ass rose behind you like some erotic phase of the moon. ambessa watched as you began to slink forward, two fingers coming together to further push down the band of her sweatpants. by the time you made it to her feet, she’d done away with them altogether.

her cunt sat pretty and fat, lips winking in arousal beneath the soft thicket of black and silver curls. it was veiled by a gorgeous triangle of deep purple lace, the fabric darkened further by her wetness. she was so beautiful, so delicious that your mouth began to water.

you shuffled forward, placing a hand on her calf to steady yourself as you nosed at her inner thigh. she smelled thick and musky here, her clit gleaming at you as if a pearl in an oyster. it was a little large, but you didn’t mind. you found it as perfect as the rest of her.

tucking your legs beneath you, you settled down and laid your head on one of her open legs. silently you asked permission, your eyes wide and pleading—a bit puppyish. she curled a hand underneath your chin and leaned forward, coaxing a kiss from your lips.

you mewled and clung to her, pressing into her hold as you returned the kiss. she laughed meanly into your mouth and pulled back, slouching so that you had more space to conduct your task. you leaned forward, eager, only to be stopped yet again.

“please,” you whispered and she made a noncommittal noise, giving you a considering look.

“just a moment, little one.”

you furrowed your brow as she leaned forward again, this time with lower. with a rough, hard tug she yanked your neckline down so that your tits spilled full and plush into her palm. with a satisfied groan, she groped them, thumbing at your nipples till they strained into the pads of her fingertips. then, she pulled back and reassumed her position.

“leave them out.”

you grew hotter at the command, nodding quickly. finally, she nodded and you let out a little moan of excitement. you should’ve gone slower and taken your time, but god you were starved.

almost immediately, you tugged the fabric of her panties aside and licked a wide stripe up her pussy. she tasted ripe, sweet then slightly bitter, like a grapefruit, and you moaned into her.

“oh, fuck,” ambessa sighed and you nuzzled further into her.

the flat echoed with the wet sounds of your consumption of her, your mouth suctioning around her pussy to apply pressure. to your surprise the hood of her clit was pierced, a small ruby nestled comfortably atop it.

after a moment, you abandoned your initial plan to move further down, tongue gliding between her fat folds where the slick current of her arousal glittered like a jewel. you pointed your tongue and wedged it deep inside her, lifting a hand to drift along her defined stomach.

“mmmhmm,” she said, voice thin as she canted her hips. “just like that. you’re doing so well, sweet girl.”

the praise lit you up from the inside out, and you lapped at her with renewed energy. her hips bucked harder and a strong hand came to root itself in your hair. in response, you lowered both hands to the floor to steady yourself as you allowed her to control your movements.

“such a good girl. so eager to eat this cunt. so eager to please me, hmm?”

“uh huh,” you answered, the words muffled by her sopping pussy.

the vibration made ambessa suck in a breath and she suddenly yanked you forward, rocking into your tongue slowly before speeding up. eventually, she was riding your face as you stuck out your tongue, your tits exposed and bouncing as you met her in eagerness.

you strained to sink further inside her, whimpering as her thighs closed harshly around your head. she could’ve snapped your neck, and you would only have seen it as benediction. an early arrival to paradise.

“oh shit,” she whispered. “fuck. yes. yes. yeaaah.”

both of her hands were on the side of your head as she bent backward, squealing sharply as she began to cum. the sound was high and girlish, and you wanted to hear it again and again. her pleasure broke over her like a rising dawn and you closed your eyes, sucking at her clit until her legs began to tremble with overstimulation. still, you didn’t stop. instead, you swallowed the honey that dribbled from the apex of her cunt and brought two of your fingers up to rub tight circles against yourself.

with a rough moan, ambessa dropped her thighs from your face and tugged you up and into her lap. she huffed in displeasure and struck your hand away from your cunt, slipping two of her thick fingers deep into the cavern of your slick heat.

“no one touches you here except for me. not even you.”

you let out a startled gasp, mouth dropping in a perfect ‘o’ as she stroked and fucked your spongy walls. you began to follow her movements, bouncing faster to chase the syrupy warmth rising into your chest. the world flickered and your eyes caught on hers as she observed the way your body contorted and flexed the more she pushed you.

“that’s it, sweet girl. work for it,” she said, her lips curving cruelly as you gripped her shoulders to better slam yourself down. “come here. let me taste.”

you kissed her, wet and messy, and she licked along your teeth; sucked the remnants of her cunt from inside you. you felt a flash of irrational anger at the action. you wanted her within you forever, staining your tongue.

ambessa slipped a third finger into you and you wailed, spine snapping straight as you felt the stretch spread through your hips. a fourth drifted lazily through your soaked folds, languishing till it was gleaming, but then it soon disappeared. carefully, she nudged you closer to her, tucking your face into her neck as she trailed her other hand down the crack of your ass.

before you could fully process what she meant to do, she inserted the wet tip of her finger into the tight ring of your asshole and pressed.

your orgasm pulsed through you. from where you lay against her neck, you bit down.

for a moment she allowed you to rest, turning her head to press a warm kiss to your temple. her fingers began to re-curl along your walls. then,

“again.”

it was a direction. you followed.

© hcneymooners.

[evan-collins90]

'Faux Body Ornaments' jewelry store - 7309 Melrose Ave, Los Angeles CA (1986)

Designed by Solo Productions (Laura Solow), winged horse sculpture by W.J. Evans

"The original space, a large room, bare but for two Georgian columns and an archway, provided an empty canvas for Solow. The jewelry offered - gold mesh chains, twined metallic ropes, hanging crystals - pointed Solow in the direction of fantasy. Faux presents the visitor with a complete "planet-scape," an environment with elements of the past and the future, joining to create a sense of fairytale timelessness. The graphic image that serves as the repeated theme and the store's logo, a full moon split by a bolt of lighting, is the basis for an almost narrative design. Further back in the store is the most prominent element, mounted on the same wall as the archway: a gauze-winged horse in flight appears to be leaping out of the mountains. Solow explains that this is the narrative aspect of the store; the horse represents the muse, and has entered our world."

Scanned from the July 1986 issue of VMSD Magazine

Note: Melrose Avenue was a hotspot for amazingly creative and playful design in the 80s and 90s, I'm working to collect as many interiors and storefronts from that era as possible.

[rileyslibrary]

I love your sense of humour and have cracked up at your stories multible times. Maby you can find some inspiration in this:

Price ordering the team to an etiquette training so they know how to behave in case they have to go under cover in a more "fancy" environment (or the upcoming mission may require something like this). I'm thinking about Ghosts "sausage fingers" from the origami bit on a delicate litte cake fork... Or him needing to *converse* with someone.

I think putting these hard soldiers in a situation that's out of their comfort zone is always a fun read!

Thank you for letting us enjoy your fantastic writing! <3

Be gentle, man!

Relationship: TF141 x F!Reader with a potential Simon “Ghost” Riley x F!Reader (platonic?) on the horizon. Also there’s an OC in the story.

Word Count: 1,598 (approx. 7-8 min reading time)

Notes: I began writing this last night as a joke, and couldn’t stop. Thank you SO MUCH for inspiring me to do this, anon. It’s a crackfic btw. (There’s a part 2 now here)

———————————————————————

The training room feels out of place compared to its usual purpose. Bathed in the soft glow of candlelight, the once-busy gym has been transformed into a classroom for an unlikely lesson—manners, of all things. Table manners, to be precise.

“Talk about Fitness Vs. Finesse,” Soap whispers, and you playfully nudge his side. The comment reaches Gaz’s ears, and he lets out a chuckle. Yet, Price’s death stare reclaims your attention and brings you back to focus.

You all sit around a long, polished mahogany table atop the gym’s boxing ring, admiring the delicate china and crystal glassware set before you. It reminds you of Aunt Claire’s preserved collection, which rarely leaves its cabinet. Lady Theodora, your etiquette instructor, assures you that each piece serves a purpose, and you will put them all to use. Every. Single. One of them.

Lady Theodora, the epitome of timeless confidence, moves gracefully around the table. Her silver hair is slicked back, framing a face that exudes years of wisdom and experience. Her Bordeaux-coloured shawl billows behind her as she glides, catching the gentle breeze her steps create. She pauses behind Price’s chair and reveals the reason behind today’s masterclass: an undercover operation.

“In the world of espionage, where appearances can mean the difference between life and death,” she says in a soft voice, “the art of etiquette becomes a weapon, a shield, and,” she concludes, resting her hand on Price’s shoulder, “your ticket to survival.”

“Bollocks.”

All eyes are drawn to the far end of the table, where a shadowy figure prefers to go unnoticed but isn’t afraid to express doubts. The only visible sign of life is a hand fidgeting with the butterknife.

“I beg your pardon, Lieutenant.” Lady Theodora says, and Ghost leans forward, revealing his unmasked—and visibly annoyed—face.

“We’re soldiers, not knights,” he claims. “Teaching us how to use all these,” he says, motioning to the various utensils before him, “is a waste of time, both yours and mine.”

Lady Theodora regards him gently as if looking at a child throwing a tantrum. She smiles and walks behind him, gripping the back of his chair.

“You seem quite certain of your own competence and doubtful of mine, Mr Riley,” she says, amused.

Ghost tilts his head to the side, partially facing her.

“With all due respect, Lady Theodora,” he replies, “I don’t believe you fully comprehend how such missions operate.”

Lady Theodora lets a light chuckle as she moves closer to Ghost’s face.

“My record of 25 confirmed kills, three of which were accomplished with a butterknife like the one in your hand, might suggest otherwise,” she admits. “Now, would you kindly move your seat forward, Lieutenant? I’ll show you how to act like a proper gentleman.”

Ghost’s Adam’s apple bobbles as he swallows hard. He returns the butterknife to its original position and pushes his chair forward with Lady Theodora’s help.

Gaz clears his throat and looks at Soap.

“Imagine her dinner parties,” he whispers so Price doesn’t hear him, “they must be perfectly executed.”

“Bet she makes a killer soufflé,” Soap whispers back.

You look at them and mutter, “You two are beyond help.” Unfortunately, it’s your own comment that catches Price’s attention this time, and he gives you a stern warning to behave.

“Let’s get started,” Lady Theodora says. “Projecting confidence and grace requires proper posture: sit up straight, shoulders back, and imagine a string pulling you upward from the crown of your head.”

You all adjust your posture, attempting to imitate Lady Theodora. Ghost used to a more relaxed posture, finds it difficult to maintain the required formality. His broad shoulders hunch forward, and he struggles to keep his legs straight.

“Excellent,” Lady Theodora remarks, catching Ghost’s struggle but choosing not to comment further. “Next, we shall delve into the art of dining. Each utensil on the table has a specific purpose, and it is essential to use them correctly.”

She points to the array of utensils laid out before you. Multiple forks, knives, and spoons of various sizes and shapes make the sight overwhelming.

“The outermost utensils are for the earlier courses, while the inner ones are for the later ones.” Lady Theodora says, “It’s like unwrapping a gift, one course at a time.”

You all nod and place the napkin on your lap to begin the process.

Ghost’s ingrained military habits take over when food is served, causing him to devour it quickly. He shovels forkfuls of food into his mouth without looking up and barely pausing to chew.

“Mr Riley,” Lady Theodora addresses Ghost, who shoots his head up to look at her. “I understand the military inclination to eat fast, but we must remember that the food isn’t going anywhere. Take your time, savour each bite, and enjoy your meal, please.”

“Sorry ’bout that.” Ghost mumbles with his mouth full.

Lady Theodora raises an eyebrow. “Mr Riley, it is impolite to speak with your mouth full,” she reminds him. “Please, swallow your food before continuing.”

Ghost swallows and clears his throat. “Apologies, Lady Theodora,” he mutters.

Lady Theodora smiles and nods at Ghost’s response. “Very well, Lieutenant Riley,” she says. “Remember, dining is about more than just the food; it’s also about the company and the experience.”

As the training continues, you witness Soap’s attempts to initiate a proper conversation, only to subconsciously bring up military strategies. Gaz, on the other hand, struggles with small talk and, when asked about his hobbies, blurts out his love of explosions.

“Kerosene is one hell of a—”

“No kerosene talk on the table, Sergeant,” Lady Theodora interrupts. “How about we talk about something more appropriate, like, for example, what did you do today?”

“You’re not going to like it.” He replies.

“Did it involve kerosene?” She asks and receives multiple excited nods from Gaz.

Ghost forgets about his napkin while using the finger bowl and instinctively flicks his hands to dry them. Droplets of water scatter across the table, and Lady Theodora steps forward with a calm smile. She retrieves his napkin and hands it to him. “Remember, Lieutenant,” she whispers, “the napkin is your ally.”

Throughout this ordeal, Price seems to be the only one who already has a natural fluidity in his movements. Like he already knows about etiquette.

You compliment his impeccable manners, but Lady Theodora intervenes before Price can respond.

“Oh, that’s because the Captain already received my services a few years ago,” she reveals, winking.

Price, caught off guard, coughs and sputters, his cheeks flushed with embarrassment. After regaining his composure, he clears his throat and grins.

“Yes, well, Lady Theodora’s guidance has been, um, invaluable,” he manages to say and lowers his gaze to his plate. Gaz raises an eyebrow, and Soap gives a sly smile.

With the etiquette training completed, Price gracefully positions his utensils on his plate and folds his napkin. Lady Theodora hands him a file stack, which he distributes to you.

“These files contain detailed background information for your assigned roles,” he explains. “Study them carefully; familiarise yourselves with the personas you will embody, and don’t worry; with Lady Theodora’s help, you’ll have plenty of time to learn how to carry yourselves.”

He watches you all as you take hold of your respective files, scanning the pages and absorbing the details that will shape your performances.

“Gaz, within those pages, you’ll uncover the roadmap to shape your tech persona, along with essential contacts and valuable industry insights,” Price declares.

“A startup entrepreneur,” Gaz mutters and nods, “nice.”

“Soap,” Price continues, “your file contains the lineage and history of an alleged oil tycoon family; you’ll assume the identity of their sole son and heir to the business.”

“Why do I get the oil-moneyed spoiled brat?” Soap protests, “Gaz is the one obsessed with fossil fuel!”

Price looks at Lady Theodora, silently begging her to take the lead.

“Focus on embodying the demeanour of an heir, Sergeant MacTavish,” she comforts Soap. “Acquiring in-depth knowledge of the business is not a top priority now.”

Finally, Price shifts his focus to you and Ghost. His voice softens, and a smile appears on his lips.

“As for the two of you,” he says, “your assignment requires a convincing portrayal of a couple.”

You and Ghost exchange a brief look before returning your focus to the files in your hands.

“Laswell will provide you with a forged marriage certificate and photos of your alleged relationship,” Price continues. “The documents will serve as tangible proof if the need to validate your connection arises.”

“Any chance to let us know who or what we’re after?” Gaz asks, and Price shakes his head.

“Baby steps, Sergeant; we’re waiting for Laswell to give us more intel,” he explains, “but as far as we know, we’re dealing with people who can buy their way out of some very sketchy shit.”

“Language, Captain.” Lady Theodora reminds him.

“Please accept my sincere apologies, Theodora,” he says and turns to Gaz. “I meant sketchy things, Sergeant.”

As they continue discussing the mission, your mind wanders on the latest information. Ghost’s partner? How? You look at the file and then back at Ghost. You see Lady Theodora walking behind Ghost’s chair and leaning close to his ear. She looks at you and whispers to him.

“I told you, Lieutenant,” she says, “I’ll mould you into a proper gentleman.”

Ghost turns to face you as well. “I’m afraid that’s impossible, Lady Theodora,” he replies.

But Lady Theodora smiles and touches his shoulder, “Oh, you’ll see, Mr Riley—you’re my gift to unwrap, one course at a time.”

———————————————————————

Part 2 ->

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

Take what resonates, leave what doesn’t but always be open to new experiences. ALSOOOO join my divination discord!!!! Link in bio

Pile 1

Crystal: Moss Agate

Song: Timeless by Jon Bellion

God/Goddess: Hermes

Astrology: Gemini, Virgo, Sagittarius, Pisces

Vibes: 🌸🌿💖💚🪲🌷🪷🥝🍑🍣📗🧠🧚🏼🩲👛🦚🍐🍉🍡🎀🐷🪴👚👅🧑🏼‍🎤

Hi, pile 1! What makes you extraordinary is your mind. You are extremely intelligent. You are fantastic at looking at a situation and seeing the secrets that lay in wait. You see past the smoke and mirrors to the important matters easily. It’s not something many people like about you unfortunately. You catch a whiff of their dirty laundry before they even tell you about it’s existence. Which can be kind of scary to experience if you aren’t used to it. However, this weeds out the people who can’t handle your intellect. It removed the people who are jealous of you or who would lie to you or try to manipulate you. You are a purifier. You are a lie detector. You are also extraordinary because you are a defender. You use your knowledge to help the people you care about. You arm them with information. You equipt them with communication skills they didn’t have before. Your heart center is very strong which tells me you are fiercely loving and want the best for all your friends. You always keep your promises. I also see you are very understanding. Pile one even though you can lift the facade of most people, when you do it is never something you bring judgement into unless it is necessary. You might see someones anxiety in the way they chew on their nails. You meet those conclusions with kindness and grace. If others had your skills they wouldn’t use it the way you do. You are such a kind soul. Pile one you are extraordinary no matter what others say about you. Just because they can’t control you it doesn’t mean you are what they say you are.

Pile 2

Crystal: Sunstone

Song: Bad Reputation by Avril Lavigne

God/Goddess: Hades, Persephone

Astrology: Aries, Cancer, Libra, Capricorn

Vibes: 🤎✒️🎓⌛️♠️🕶️🫚🥐🪵🦫🐌🧳🐻🕰️🪜🧸🐗🖤🦇🕷️🦅🪨🕸️🧋🏹🪮🗝️🎱🎻🐶🎮🦽⚰️🚬🏉🪑🏴‍☠️♣️

Hello, pile two! You are extraordinary because you are unconventional. I see that you are very fashionable in an alternative way. You have a crow like energy to you. You collect interesting things and keep them in line of sight. There is this depth to you that is absolutely fascinating. Sometimes that depth can scare people because they haven’t been through all that you have experienced. The depth you hold isn’t always obvious. It sits right underneath the surface. You don’t offer your depth to those who don’t ask. You don’t offer your depth to those you believe don’t deserve you. Even so, you are brave, bold and never look for permission to do what you please. I would see you on the street and would whisper “Ohmygods that person is so fucking cool do you see them??!?!?!?!” You also have a voice that stands out from the crowd. You can project your voice in a powerful way that rings in peoples ears even after you have left the scene. Your words linger on their minds. What you said sticks with those people and will never leave them. They can hear the wisdom dripping from each syllable and they understand there is experience behind what you say but can’t quite pinpoint what you lived through. You have worked hard for your place in life and there is a richness that you resonate even if you aren’t wealthy. You take no shit. The universe loves that about you, baby. You don’t let your heartbreak keep you down. You might have had hard times but that has never and will never define who you are. Holy fuck you are so cool.

Pile 3

Crystal: Howlite

Song: Renaissance Girl by alybob

God/Goddess: Iris, Artemis, Apollo

Astrology: Taurus, Leo, Scorpio, Aquarius

Vibes:🩵🐭🤍🌨️🫐⏱️💙🦢💎🛁🍙🧿🪬✈️🧊🍭🛼🏳️‍⚧️🥶🦋🐻‍❄️🦕🧢👟🥽🥼🗣️🛬🗽💦🐚🐁🪼❄️🌊☁️🐰🎧🎹🌎⚗️

Hey, pile three! You are extraordinary because you haven’t been invented yet. All you were is gone. All you are is yet to be born. You get to decide. I see you may have recently discovered you are changing into someone new before your eyes. You didn’t even notice for a while. You were charging into life with little thought to how you wanted it to go. You perception has been twisted and you have a new angle to look at now. You are extraordinary because you could become anything. You could become an activist, an painter, a musician, a model, an engineer, a programer, a runner or anything you can imagine. You are a dream. I’m kind of jealous at how raw your energy is. You are iron ore that has yet to be melted down and molded into what you were meant to be. The richness of your soil could nurious any plant or tree. You are the star that is transforming into a supernova. Wow. You are such a lovely and beautiful soft energy pile 3. Your energy is like delicate piano with a soft bassline. You are full unlimited potential. I’m sure hearing this might not be what you expected at all. You might not even really like this answer if I’m honest. Please understand that I see you have come out of an act. Who you were is nothing compared to who you will be. You masked your truest self for a long time and now you are moving into new power beyond your old self’s dreams. If past you met current you they would be strangers to one another. My advice moving forward is to explore yourself. Carefully map out your new self. Voyage to your new interests with excitement because you will be crafted from stardust, my friend. The world can’t wait to meet them.

[prythianpages]

ACOSM | The Night she made Azriel dance

azriel x rhysand's sister (oc)

warnings: angst/fluff? some suggestive content but nothing beyond a heated kiss

summary: The Court of Nightmares is celebrating Rhysand's accomplishment of enduring the blood rite. Valeria pulls Azriel for a dance and their unspoken feelings for each other begin to catch the attention of others.

A/N: this is an imagine among my collection of imagines that follow Rhysand's sister, Valeria. while I'm still working on them, you can find the masterlist for it here. You might be able to read it as a stand alone imagine.

**

Silver sconces flickered with small flames, casting long shadows across the grand ballroom of the Court of Nightmares. At the heart of the grand chamber, a colossal crystal chandelier bathed the dance floor in a cascade of soft, enchanting light. The crystals sparkled like stars, reflecting in the eyes of those gathered beneath. The tapestries, hung with pride and history, depicted battles, bloodshed, and triumphs of the fierce Illyrian warriors.

Tonight, the Court of Nightmares celebrated not only a warrior's coming of age, but the bonds forged through battles and hardships. The High Lord of the Night Court stood at the center of it all. Rhysand, his son and heir, stood to his right. He was dressed in obsidian finery lovingly crafted by his mother.

Valeria stood alongside her mother at the bottom of the stairs that led to their throne, her gaze avoiding her father at all costs…even as Rhysand kneeled before their father in acceptance of the new crown the High Lord held in his hands. She waited until the crowd that had gathered erupted into cheers, joining the High Lord in celebrating Rhysand, to leave her mother’s side.

She needed a drink.

As the musicians began to play a haunting melody, she made her way to the wine table. She wasn’t surprised to find Mor already there and under the influence. She wore an elegant black ball gown instead of her usual shades of red. Her brown eyes that were once full of life were dull and distant. She was still in mourning, joining Valeria in her lament for Mallory.

 Valeria had given her the jewelry box as soon as she had read Mallory’s letter. Upon her arrival to the Court of Nightmares, she had even stopped by Mor’s residence a couple of times to check up on her. She was turned down every time. She had even shut Rhysand completely out, not allowing either of the siblings in. She had chosen to mourn alone.

With a smile that didn’t reach her eyes, she poured a glass for Valeria.

**

Azriel and Cassian stepped into the grand ballroom, their large mesmerizing wings unfurled behind them. The two Illyrians, known for their rugged warrior appearance, had traded their customary leathers for a sleek ensemble befitting the grand occasion. They were both clad in tailored black suits that emphasized the lithe strength of their bodies.

Despite their fitting attire, they felt strangely out of place.

Azriel, partly concealed in his shadows, had an aura of quiet intensity. His eyes searched the room for a certain winged female. His shadows mirrored his request, sharing his determination. He was met with the same inexplicable magnetic pull that had seized him upon his return from the blood rite. 

Following that thread, his gaze swiftly alighted upon the raven-haired woman, who unknowingly, held the other end of the golden thread that beckoned Azriel closer. 

He gulped as his eyes raked over her frame, the first thing striking him of her appearance being the absence of her wings.

She was a vision of timeless beauty in a simple yet enchanting long ivory silk gown–a creation no doubt crafted by her mother’s loving and talented hands. Her long, raven hair tumbled down her back in loose curls that framed her face in a cascade of dark silk.

At her throat, she still wore the moonstone necklace gifted to her by Azriel, the delicate gemstone shimmering with an otherworldly glow.

Her violet eyes held a depth and intensity that continued to draw Azriel in as they met his hazel ones. Her brows rose slightly and he swore he saw the light return to her eyes.

In a blink of an eye, she was rushing toward him.

“Azriel,” she breathed, her voice laced with relief as she threw her arms around his taller, broader frame. She nestled her head against his chest as his shadows also joined him in in their embrace.

“Valeria.” He replied, matching her tone of relief as he held her tightly, the tension of their separation melting away in that single moment.

“Cassian!”

Valeria pulled away from Azriel sheepishly, still flushed with the emotions of their reunion. She turned to the Illyrian male beside him, who had called out his own name and waited for her with expectant open arms. She didn’t hesitate to move into Cassian’s brotherly embrace and he chuckled with delight.

"How have you been, my little warrior?"

She pulled away from Cassian. It was almost instinctive the way her steps drew her closer to Azriel, her body unconsciously seeking to be close to him. Azriel’s body did the same, their fingers brushing against each other lightly.

Cassian couldn’t help but notice the subtle, unspoken connection between them. He wondered if he should say something.

“Bored. No one to annoy, unfortunately.” Valeria finally answered his question, pulling Cassian from his thoughts. She then looked at Azriel, her eyes looking toward his shoulders.

“Where is–”

“Noctis is resting in your room.” Azriel answered before Valeria could finish. “We thought it would be too chaotic here for him.”--He saw the concern in her eyes at the thought of her bird being left alone.--”I left some of my shadows to keep him company.”

“Thank you.” Valeria breathed a sigh of relief. She made sure to look at both Azriel and Cassian, knowing that they along with her brother–who she already thanked earlier–carefully nursed her beloved bird back to health.

“The house is awfully quiet without you there.” Cassian commented with a small frown.

Rhysand’s voice suddenly emerged from behind. “I never thought I’d be the one to say this but I miss you and that damn bird keeping me up at night with your piano...and those awful chirps of his.” 

Valeria rolled her eyes, turning around to face her brother to make sure he caught the gesture. “His chirps aren’t awful. They’re lovely.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.” Rhysand chuckled, his eyes looking amongst their group. “Where’s Mor?”

Valeria’s eyes widened as she realized that her cousin had not followed her and chose to remain at the wine table instead. Her heart ached for her. 

Cassian sighed. “I’ll go get her.”

Azriel seated himself at the empty table nearby. Rhysand and Valeria followed after him with the latter taking the empty chair beside him. A wave of magic filled the air, and suddenly, a sumptuous array of food materialized at the center of the table. Empty plates appeared before them, ready to be filled. Azriel was the first to fill his plate with a tempting assortment of delicious food but instead of indulging in it himself, he extended the plate to Valeria. 

“Here,” He urged her, his voice gentle, as he offered her the plate. “You need to eat.”

“It’s been hard to find an appetite these days.” Valeria admitted quietly, accepting the plate from him with a small thanks.

She found an immense guilt to do anything as she mourned the loss of her friend. She didn’t think anyone had noticed but Azriel had. It was subtle but he noticed her thinner frame and the slightly sunken appearance of her cheeks.

Rhysand’s gaze remained fixed on the two, his violet eyes narrowing as he watched their interactions. Gratitude welled within him for Azriel’s vigilant care for his sister yet a flicker of suspicion ignited in his mind. He wondered if Azriel’s watchful care held a depth of meaning beyond mere brotherly intention…

Rhysand’s gaze abruptly tore from the two upon the arrival of Cassian and Mor at their table. Mor stumbled into her seat, across from him, with Cassian’s careful support. 

“Oh, this food looks ravishing,” she slurred as she stole a piece of bread from Azriel’s plate.

Azriel didn’t seem to mind. However, when Cassian reached over to steal the potatoes from his plate, Azriel promptly moved his plate out of Cassian’s reach, fixing him with a glare. There was humor dancing in his eyes. 

“Congrats, bat boys.” Mor grinned, referring to their accomplishment in the blood rite. She hadn’t seen them since Valeria’s birthday.  

“Bat boys?” Azriel questioned, his brows furrowing in slight confusion while Valeria’s amused reaction almost led her to choking on her food. Her laughter bubbled forth, finding their surprised and bewildered expressions highly entertaining.

Mor looked at Valeria and joined in.

“Bat boys,” Rhysand echoed, a smile playing on his lips as he swirled the wine in his glass. “I can’t say I hate it.”

The three men shared a knowing look, finding relief and joy in the sound of Valeria’s and Mor’s laughter. A sound they had feared they wouldn't hear again. The five of them continued to enjoy their dinner, engrossed in light conversation.

When the music began to pick up and people took to the dance floor of the grand ballroom, Rhysand noticed Valeria’s eyes light up. He knew how much she enjoyed dancing as he was often forced to be her dancing partner when they were children. Determined to keep the his sister in bright spirits, he extended his free hand to her.

Valeria hesitated for a moment and a frown fell over her face as a wave of guilt hit her then. Guilt for daring to feel joy when Mallory was robbed of any more experiences.

Warmth and reassurance suddenly filled her in that moment, the same strange way it did after her nightmares would wake her, washing away her guilt. It’s okay, it seemed to say.

She accepted her brother’s offer and with a smile from Rhysand, they made their way to the dance floor. The people dancing seemed to part for them, allowing them to reach the center. Their presence was compelling and piercing and a cool mask was on both of their faces. Some stopped and stared, admiring the beauty of the son and daughter of the Night Court. 

Rhysand and Valeria began to move together, their steps fluid and graceful. He led with care, guiding Valeria through the steps. His own violet eyes held a promise of better days to come, and in that moment, Valeria felt a sense of hope return to her heart.

The music swelled and Rhysand twirled Valeria with a flourish. She couldn’t help but smile again as the weight of her worries began to lift.

“There she is,” Rhysand smiled back at her.

As the song came to an end, she curtsied at her brother and when the orchestra began another song, her gaze landed on Azriel. He remained at the table, nursing a wine glass of his own. His shadows had been watching her every move with a curious intensity as he pretended to be engaged in whatever Cassian was saying as the latter animatedly waved his hands.

Rhysand followed her gaze with an amused smile and then chuckled. “Az doesn’t dance. You’d have better luck with Cassian. Although, he might step on your toes.”

A mischievous glint danced in Valeria’s eyes as Azriel’s gaze lifted to meet hers across the room. It was as if he heard his name being called.

“He will for me."

With a playful spin, Rhysand sent her Azriel's way, and she glided toward him. Azriel recognized the look in her eye immediately, already having an excuse ready for her. A lame one at that.

“I can’t dance.”

Valeria's eyes sparkled with an impish charm. "Your shadows tell me that's a lie."

"You can hear them?" Azriel raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised.

His shadows, usually silent and obedient, seemed to have a mind of their own tonight. They coiled back, looking almost sheepish. Only when we want her to, they responded with unexpected sass.

“Sometimes.” Valeria shrugged nonchalantly, as if hearing his shadows was entirely ordinary. "Doesn't everyone?"

Azriel shook his head slowly. "No, not everyone."

"Oh."

His shadows brushed through her hair, their cool tendrils ghosting past her ear. "Well, right now they're telling me your mother actually taught you how to dance."

"Traitors," Azriel muttered grumpily at his defiant shadows, who dared to laugh in his ears, swirling playfully between Valeria and him.

Valeria, however, wasn't about to take no for an answer. With a touch of determination and playfulness, she intertwined her fingers with Azriel's, catching him off guard. His heart quickened, and a soft smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he couldn't resist her any longer.

Complying with her invitation, Azriel rose from his seat, his eyes locked with Valeria's. Together, they stepped onto the dance floor, swaying to the gentle melody of the music.

In the midst of the crowd, they danced. It was a dance of shadows and moonlight, and in each other's arms, they found a rare and beautiful harmony.

Rhysand once again found his gaze fixed on the two as his sister and one of his closest friends--someone he considered his brother-- danced as if they were the only two in the room. Beside him, Cassian and Mor also watched the pair.

Cassian noticed the thoughtful furrow in Rhysand’s brow. “Something on your mind, Rhys?”

Rhysand hesitated before replying. “It’s Valeria. She and Azriel…”

“Oh, Rhys, you’re just being an overbearing and overprotective brother.” Mor couldn’t help but chuckle. She looked at Cassian, inclining her head at him to agree.

“Yeah,” Cassian said with a nod of his head. “We all care for Val deeply. She’s like a little sister to me and I’m sure Azriel feels the same.”

But even Cassian began to doubt his words as he remembered their earlier reunion and it did nothing to dwell the concern in Rhysand. He continued to watch his sister and Azriel before Mor pulled his attention away from the dance floor.

**

Valeria swayed gracefully on the dance floor, her white dress catching the light as Azriel spun her around. Her violet eyes sparkled with a mixture of joy and something deeper, something unspoken.

As the dance continued, Azriel couldn't help but glance down at Valeria's lips for a fleeting moment. The magnetic pull between them was undeniable, and the world around them seemed to blur as they swayed to the music. It was as if the air was charged with a palpable tension, their hearts beating in unison.

But just as the moment became achingly sweet and full of promise, a striking, dark-haired woman appeared before Azriel. "Would you do me the honor of the next dance, Shadowsinger?" she purred, her voice as seductive and charismatic as her gaze.

Azriel reluctantly pulled his gaze from Valeria to meet the woman’s. He looked back at Valeria. There was hesitation in his eyes, almost begging for Valeria to shake her head at him, to tell him no. Much to his disappointment, Valeria nodded at him and he reluctantly accepted the dark-haired woman's invitation.

As Valeria left Azriel's side, a sense of longing hung in the air–a dance interrupted and a moment deferred. She made her way back to the table with her brother and friends. She watched as Azriel and the woman began to dance with a mixture of curiosity and something she couldn’t quite name. 

Rhysand couldn't resist a teasing chuckle. "Look what you started.”

Valeria tried to hide her jealousy, but the sight of Azriel with another woman had her wrestling with her feelings. A small sigh escaped her lips. She couldn't blame him for being polite. She knew she had no reason to be jealous, but as a third female approached him for a dance, she couldn't help it. 

The Court of Nightmares' ball raged on. Valeria, still nursing her feelings of jealousy and insecurity, decided it was time to slip away from the festivities, using Mor’s drunken state as an excuse. Rhysand, her older brother, seemed oblivious to her inner turmoil, chatting with a beautiful stranger. Cassian had left earlier, sneaking away to visit his girlfriend.

“I think it’s time for bed.” Valeria said, looking at Mor’s slumping form at the table.

Rhysand chuckled and nodded. He began to excuse himself from the female, who had sat herself next to him, but Valeria stopped him with a wave of her hand. “I can handle it. I’ll take Mor to my room,” Valeria assured him as she placed the blonde’s arm over her shoulders and carefully lifted her from her seat.

Rhysand nodded, engaging himself in conversation with the pretty stranger once more, and Valeria slipped out into the cool night with Mor in tow. As Valeria discreetly made her way to the exit, her heart heavy with unresolved emotions, Azriel’s shadows noticed her departure and informed him.

As soon as the song came to a stop, a couple of minutes later, he was quick to pull away from the dance, bowing slightly at the female before making his way to where he had seen Valeria disappear into. On his way, he passed by the table that now consisted of Rhysand and a beautiful female, who sat on his lap. 

“Az,” Rhysand called out to him, forcing him to come to a stop. There was a glint in his violet eyes while the female on top of him raked Azriel’s body over with hungry eyes. “Care to join us?”

Their scent of arousal hit Azriel. If things were different, he would’ve gladly accepted Rhysand’s offer. It wouldn’t be the first time they shared a woman. But despite the female’s beauty and Rhysand’s promise of an entertaining night, he couldn’t bring himself to say yes.

Instead, he shook his head. “I think I should also call it a night.”

“Suit yourself,” Rhysand replied with a shrug. He feigned nonchalance on the outside but on the inside, his suspicions from earlier resurfaced...

Azriel excused himself and left the ballroom, his true intention to find where Valeria had slipped away to. In the darkness of the night, Azriel's shadows flitted through the corridors of the grand estate, searching for her. It didn't take them long to find Valeria at the opposite end of the palace. 

She was in the moon gardens, amongst the terrace of blooming flowers. A handful of night-blooming jasmines and gardenias lay beside her. She held a gardenia in her hand, plucking the petals one-by-one deep in thought, as she nestled on the soft grass.

Valeria didn’t seem to notice his arrival.

Plucking a purple peony that matched her eyes from a flourishing bush, he silently settled beside her. “A flower for your thoughts?” 

The gardenia Valeria had been holding slipped from her fingers, landing atop its own ivory petals. She started, caught off guard by the sudden presence of the Shadowsinger.

He reached out, brushing a loose curl of her hair away from her face and secured the purple peony behind one of her ears. His shadows swirled around him, enraptured by her beauty, each tendril whispering in hushed admiration.

“You left without saying goodbye.”

"I just need some fresh air.” Valeria brushed off his concern and without considering the meaning of her words, she added: “I didn’t think you’d notice. You seemed to be having an awfully good time with all those beautiful females.”

Azriel’s hazel eyes glinted with amusement. “Is this jealousy I sense?”

Valeria scoffed, heat rushing to her cheeks. “Me? Jealous?”

“You’re right, you have no reason to be jealous.” Azriel acknowledged, his voice a soothing murmur of understanding. His lips curled into a smirk as his fingers gently lifted Valeria’s chin, coaxing her to meet his gaze.

Reluctantly, her eyes locked with his, and in that moment, a daring boldness took over him.

“I only have eyes for you.”

As Azriel's words hung in the air, the tension between them thickened.

Valeria's heart raced as his thumb brushed softly against her lower lip, his eyes following his movement in a tantalizing tease that sent shivers down her spine. Valeria found herself inching closer and Azriel did the same, his breath mingling with hers.

The world around them faded into insignificance as their faces drew nearer. 

His lips barely brushed hers, almost in a teasing manner, and he rejoiced in the way her eyelids fluttered close and lips parted in anticipation. She wanted this as much as he did. 

“I only want you,” he murmured against her lips before he claimed them in a tender kiss full of longing.

Her lips were just as soft as he had imagined. Just as sweet as he imagined and he savored her taste, yearning for more.

Their lips separated for a brief moment as she adjusted herself and before she knew it, their lips were crashing against each other once again in a heated kiss.

With the guidance of his hand at her waist, she found herself straddling his hips. She wrapped her arms around his neck and the slit in her dress ripped further up, exposing her thigh but she did not care. All she cared about was the sweet taste of his lips and intoxicating scent of night-chilled mist and cedar. 

Azriel’s hand that had lingered on her chin found itself intertwining into the base of her hair. He pulled on it, angling her closer to him. The hand at her waist traveled down to her thigh before his fingers began to lightly trace their way up the newly exposed skin. His tongue traced against her bottom lip and she allowed him in, a soft moan escaping from her as he explored her mouth with his tongue.

He almost moaned at the sound. It sent a shiver throughout his body, fueling his insatiable urge to find out what other pretty sounds he can elicit from her pretty lips.

When they reluctantly pulled away to catch their breaths, their foreheads rested against each other. The garden around them seemed to hold its breath, as if nature itself recognized the significance of this moment and the stars above twinkled.

Azriel’s pupils were dilated as he intently gazed down at her, admiration and a hint of lust in his hazel eyes. 

“Only you.” Valeria breathlessly echoed, the look in her eyes mirroring his. 

Azriel smiled, feeling his heart fill with such warmth that he thought he was about to explode. His shadows danced around them as he peppered her face with tender kisses.

His nose brushed against hers and as the moonlight casted a soft glow on their faces, their lips met again.

**

A/N: after all the sadness and angst, I wanted to write something more romantic. Rhys and Cass are finally catching onto Az and Val and it seems like Rhys might not be too happy about that...

I hope the kissing scene was okay. I've never written anything beyond a simple kiss or suggestive content but I am willing to try for future imagines. It's just hard and kinda ironic for me to write romantic scenes since I fall under the aroace spectrum. yet I love reading all kinds of romance lol

tag list: @justrepostandlove , @kemillyfreitas, @thelov3lybookworm

[santoschristos]

The Unveiling of Realities

1. Interdimensional Travel:

- We are on the cusp of a greater innerstanding of interdimensional travel.

Just as waves advance into the ocean of existence and recede into the invisible, our consciousness will increasingly navigate between the physical and the metaphysical realms.

This will allow us to access knowledge and experiences beyond our current comprehension.

2. Immortality Realised:

- The concept of immortality will be redefined. It’s not about living forever in a physical body but recognizing that we are already immortal beings. This profound truth has been concealed, but as we awaken, we will innerstand that our essence transcends time and space.

3. Spirit World Integration:

- The veil between the spirit world and our reality is thinning.

Many have already allowed spirits to weave their way into the mortal realm.

This integration will become more pronounced, and those with heightened intuition will witness and interact with these entities, gaining wisdom and guidance.

4. Intuitional and Spiritual Realms:

- As we develop our casual bodies and quicken our ego’s vision, we will see things as they truly are. In the spiritual world, the divine and human will unify, fulfilling the divine purpose.

This will lead to a profound sense of oneness and enlightenment.

5. Spiritual Manna:

- Higher realms of spirit life are preparing to pour down spiritual manna upon us.

This nourishment will be available as soon as we open up the conditions that render it possible.

The obstructions lie not in the spirit world but within our own mortal limitations.

6. Future Selves and Destiny:

- Our future selves are actively reshaping our destiny.

We are balancing precariously between multiple possible realities, each influenced by our actions. This slipstream into our future offers hope and the potential for a brighter existence.

7. Veil and Shadow:

- The veil between the higher and lower realms, created from the Pythagorean Monochord, signifies the separation of matter and spirit.

As we innerstand and transcend this veil, we will see the shadow of matter for what it is—a projection that can be molded and transformed.

8. Outer Darkness:

- There exists a point of no return, where souls that do not align with the divine purpose will be cast into the outermost parts of the Outer Darkness.

This signifies a purification process, ensuring that only those in harmony with the higher vibrations continue to evolve.

Implementation for the Journey Ahead

1. Expand Consciousness:

- Engage in practices that expand your consciousness, such as meditation, astral projection, grounding, chi gong ! , healthy eating, clean water, and lucid dreaming.

These will help you navigate between realms and access higher knowledge.

2. Embrace Immortality:

- Reflect on the concept of immortality beyond the physical.

innerstand that your essence is eternal and that you are part of a larger, timeless existence.

3. Connect with Spirit Guides:

- Develop a relationship with your spirit guides through rituals, offerings, and communication.

They are here to assist you in your journey and provide insights from the unseen realms.

4. Develop Intuition:

- Strengthen your intuition through practices like scrying, or working with crystals.

This will help you perceive the subtle energies and messages from the spiritual world.

--The Collective Spiritual Consciousness

Corey Foggo

art: Inter-Dimensional Gate

Diego Andrade

[honey-birdette]

Priya

Dark, delicate and loaded with sex appeal, our best balconette bra has arrived! Featuring our exclusive embroidery, refined by Swiss design, the charming Priya collection includes criss-cross detailing, lace-up accents, and contrasting florals in pink and blue. Enhanced with sparkling crystals and picot trims, Priya is a timeless set for day-to-night wear.

2024, After hours collection

[multifandomfix]

Perfect Presence — Tenth Doctor

Summary: The Doctor is set on finding you the perfect Christmas present and he traverses time and space to do so, though maybe he really didn’t need to try so hard.

Word Count: 744

Warnings: None, just fluff, so much fluff

With all the swirling depths of time and space at his fingertips, the TARDIS hums with anticipation as the Doctor embarks on a quest to find the perfect Christmas present for you. The familiar wheezing sound echoes through the air, signaling the beginning of his search. He promised himself that he will not rest in his pursuit of a gift that will capture your heart, no matter how many tries it takes him to find just the right gift.

The Doctor's eyes sparkle with determination as he sets out, arriving at one of his favorite planets, known for their eclectic collections of rare and valuable objects. He navigates through the chaotic energy of the bustling alien market, many a trinket catching his eye, but none quite right. Vibrant colors and exotic scents surround him as vendors peddle unique baubles and artifacts from distant galaxies. His sonic buzzes, matching the buzz of his own anticipation, as he scans over the myriad of possibilities. The Doctor weaves through the crowds, searching for that one elusive item that will bring a smile to your face.

Turning up nothing, he decides to try somewhere and somewhen else. In a leap through time, the TARDIS materializes on the gas lit streets of Victorian London; another of his most favorite spots. He wanders for a while, recalling a shop that may have what he’s looking for. Finding it, one street over from where he could have sworn it to be, he explores the quaint shop filled with curious oddities. There, he discovers a pocket watch adorned with intricate engravings, a piece of history that might resonate with you and add a touch of timeless elegance to your collection, but then again, it didn’t quite feel like the right item.

Undeterred by the ticking clock, seeing as he could be back at your door a minute after he left, the Doctor propelled the TARDIS into the far future, landing on a planet where technology reigns supreme. In a bustling metropolis, he finds a device that translates thoughts into art, envisioning it as a canvas for your creativity. The hum of the cityscape fades as the Doctor imagines the endless possibilities of this unique gift, one that mirrors the boundless imagination of the universe. It was wondrous, surely, and he’d no doubt you’d appreciate it, but as cool as it was, it lacked any sort of sentimentality for him. Onto something else then, he thought.

Journeying through medieval castles, futuristic landscapes, and distant planets, the Doctor's quest continued, each locale offering new possibilities for the perfect present, but each coming up short in some way.

Finally, in a moment of quiet reflection amidst the celestial beauty of a distant galaxy, the Doctor discovers a rare, star shaped crystal, half hidden in pink sand. Its ethereal glow reflects the wonder of the cosmos, capturing the essence of his travels with you and the magic of Christmas. With a satisfied grin, the Doctor cradles the crystal in his hands, its radiance a testament to the extraordinary journey he undertook to find the ideal gift for you.

Returning to the TARDIS, the star-shaped crystal held securely, the Doctor anticipates the joy in your eyes as you unwrap this extraordinary present he’d chosen with care and love. The TARDIS dematerializes, leaving behind a trail of stardust as it hurtles back through space and time, all the way back to you on Christmas morning.

You’re barely awake when he knocks on your door, not having checked the time, as he was too excited to bestow upon you his perfect gift. His big, goofy grin filled your tired vision as you greeted him at the door.

"Merry Christmas," he beams, pausing just long enough to reach into his coat and pull out the crystal. "This is for you, a little piece of the universe I thought you might like."

You watched the crystal sparkle in the morning light, reflecting the pure joy in his eyes. As you take the gift, he leans against the doorframe, eager to share the tale of his journey in finding it.

“It’s beautiful. I’ve never seen anything like it. But Doctor,” you began, and in that fraction of a second his smile faltered, briefly thinking that it had been the wrong gift after all. “All I really needed this Christmas was to spend it with you.” His smile returned and you invited him inside. “Now tell me how you went about finding this.”

Forever Tag: @baubeautyandthegeek, @ghostsunderstoodmysoul, @immyowndefender, @valencethefriendlychangeling, @crimsonwidow666, @rebelbossheart, @thedailyspiritualist, @orangeisnttheonlyfruit, @woman-simp, @aperol-with-izzy, @leonoralessoem, @ellepossum69, @lakita-fisher, @nclgsticore, @ayanthegreat28, @analuw, @luvlesavyy, @malfoyfeed, @aliciabrower, @bitchr-mkay, @sparrowspixie

Tenth Doctor: @dancingwith-sunflowers, @riveranddoctorsong123, @randomfandomimagine, @danzalladaggers, @keepfloatingaway, @casserole-from-dads-asserole, @little-bean99, @littlefoxgirl-13, @becomingthedreamversionofme, @storytelling-timelord, @chaos-and-food, @callsigncrash, @mxacegrey, @sammus-white, @lokabrenna0801, @m-rae23, @geekyandgay98, @sassykittenjellyfish, @cardinalalignedtiefling, @magpie6322, @aceofspades0064, @thekirbishow, @scriptershifter, @kirimilliagnhalden

[ms-oswald]

starry night | aemond targaryen

author's note: my first aemond fic to officially write - though not the first one that came to me (👀). hopefully, this will be enjoyable. spotify has the playlist from the expo. you can listen to it while reading or not. all up to you :) lots of love & stay safe 💕

      She was unbothered by the crowd, her ears soothed by the soft orchestra as its violin and cello strings swiftly danced through her headphones, the item covering the entirety of her cartilage.  

Her focus was given to the timeless masterpiece, her gaze following the road of the paintbrush as it retraced the softness of the model’s curves; from afar, she had the sight to detect the faintest of details.  

Even in-cased by thick glass where soft glare could be reflected at times, she could still depict the colors colliding with such ease from the forms of the background to the veil she wore, down to her right hand resting over her left wrist.  

She was taken by the art until a presence quietly made itself known by her side; to her left stood a tall man. He bore a pronounced jawline, platinum hair and from the corner of her eyes, she could depict a hint of lavender decorating his right iris. He was slender and held himself with his arms behind his back as he gave his attention to the painting in front of him, ignoring the commotion of the cameras and the people surrounding them.  

Removing her headset, it rested around her neck when she heard a soft grunt, a little ‘hm’. She smiled, biting the corner of her bottom lip as she dropped her head down, stifling a chortle. She then turned her head to the man as he spoke under his breath. 

“She is overrated.” His gaze hadn’t moved, his words disappearing into the collective but not to her.  

“Then why are you here?”  

Her tone wasn’t accusatory. Instead, she was indulging him almost, amused at the fact he still stood and stared at Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa.  

He was taken aback by her comment, not having realized she had heard him. He turned his head to her and huffed - almost a chuckle - as the corner of his lips curved upwards. “Good point.” 

She turned her eyes back to the painting, her head slightly tilting as she searched for her words. “I find her… intriguing.” The man remained put, his one good eye reverting to the piece of art that hung a few feet away from them. “She is hiding a secret, forever kept in the back books of history.” 

He chuckled, not fully impressed by her remark. He thought it generic even though he knew, in the back of his mind, it was made to amuse him. “That is what everyone is saying.”  

The lopsided grin won him over, her eyes meeting his. “Doesn’t mean it isn’t true.” She had quickly glanced to his injured eye, the color now a simple faded crystal blue. It didn’t bother her, and no reaction had come from her, which he silently appreciated. 

He inspected her as she, once again, looked away. She wore a wool wrapped coat that covered her down passed her knees, the belt tightened around her waist. Her hair looked almost disheveled from the knitted beanie she had removed, though her locks covered her gracefully as they rested around her while highlighting the shades of her eyes. 

He saw the headphones around her neck and smiled to himself; his own pair were held captive in his coat pocket. 

They stood for a few more minutes in silence, looking ahead at the painting.  

She was ready to move on but lingered, not wanting to part ways with the man standing next to her. 

He had grown annoyed with the crowd, desperate to leave the herd, but refrained as he was not ready to separate from her just yet. 

She picked her phone out of her pocket and looked at the time, the clock dangling above her paused playlist. She then pivoted to him, biting down her lip as she gathered courage to speak to him again. 

He noticed her changed position and peered at her, entranced by her stature. She had placed her arms behind her back, close to rocking on her toes as she quickly scanned the people around her before setting her eyes on him again. 

Inquisitive and hopeful, she held her breath. 

“This might be a bit forward, but… how do you feel about Van Gogh?” 

      It was overwhelming to say the least. 

Diving headfirst, they were transported into a new reality, surrounded by moving images, the projectors guiding them across the several rooms that inhabited Van Gogh’s life through his works of art.  

Submerged under the rays of colors, bathing under their illuminating glow, they were consumed by the sensory experience; bodies were wrapped within the various masterpieces, from the elegant portraits to the hundreds of landscapes. The duo was entranced into captivation as the musical score resonated from wall to wall, catching the essence of the paintings into its staff where the clefs kept the notes afloat with the shifts and swirls of the artist’s hopes and dreams.  

He was buried under the cascading lights, their intensity following the waves of the moving pictures. He was lost in his own amazement, in the thrill and sheer emotional rollercoaster he had embarked on; he enjoyed these works in passing, but only now could he truly understand the man’s pain.  

He turned around, his sight taking in the floating petals washed away by the wind to the waves of the oceans, to the ogling stares of portraits and voiced-out letters, until he eventually saw his companion. 

She stood a few feet away, intently staring at Van Gogh’s Self Portrait with a Pipe, when he was pulled in. 

She had been staring at it for a while, her eyes never wavering away from the man’s stare as he would blink while the smoke of his pipe danced in the air. She couldn’t tell what it was that shook her, what made her tremble to her very core, when she broke down. Silently tearing up, the old man was looking down at her as melancholy soaked his eyes, the gaze — a feathered touch of poignancy. 

Her guest was befuddled at his sight, to find her quietly crying in the dark was perplexing. He couldn’t have known the truth behind her tears, the reason her emotions strangled her through the music. The heartbreak she endured months ago, when she was forced to part ways with her fiancé due to his indiscretions — she had finally let the bourgeoning storm find her, drowning her in her impending ache. 

“Are you alright?” He approached her, worried while she remained frozen in front of the portrait.  

“Y-yes!” She had forgotten about her surroundings, his inquiry pushing her away from her trance. “Sorry about that. I don’t know what happened…” She let out a broken chuckle as she wiped the tears that strung across the corners of her eyes.  

“Was it the painting?” He was still curious, wanting to understand the circumstances of her gentle unraveling. 

She tilted her head to him, offering him a small smile. “I think the painting just brought it out of me.” 

As she spoke, the old man went away, the projectors continuing their route as they rode the audience into other works, welcoming them with more notable pieces, such as Starry Night. 

She took a deep breath, finding herself a seat on a bench and watched the stars move around them from across the four walls to the ground, right under their feet. 

The instruments’ chords brought her back to her trance, leaving only the boy in their shared reality.  

He could only stare at her, the echoes of her voice quieting down the static noise that lived in his head; all was now left unplugged, creating utter deafness.  

It was peaceful, and he felt he could finally breathe. 

He watched her in awe, the variation of blues etched across the sky where the golden stars warmed the hues; she was absorbed by the landscape as if she had been part of the picture itself.  

He was enthralled by her presence, the feelings thrumming against his heart and rekindling the spark of a dying flame, the embers laying low within the desert of ash around them. 

It had been way too long since he last felt this way.  

The heat raised his skin, shivers covering his entire body as he stuck to her, unable to partake in the rest of the exposition any longer. He had lost himself in her, taking in the way she had been immersed in the moving brushstrokes as they danced and rippled to her every footstep, her ability to appreciate the works around her, her knowledge of these renderings, the connection she had built by the simple look just enough to bring her to tears. 

All he could do was take her in, like fresh air, and admire the work of art that stood in front of him.  

      And then the lights went out, the room once again diving into the darkness until a voice was heard above their heads, reading out loud the written words that were shared between the painter and his brother. 

The young man was pulled out of his reverie and looked away from her, taking in a slow breath to calm the bombardments in his chest. 

His mind was still quiet, which he thanked.  

It had been a while since he could last hear himself think. 

But even now it seemed, his words strung nonsense. 

The woman had taken his senses captive, luring him into complete ignorant bliss, and he loved it. 

The expo, eventually over, the ending was presented with simple sentences that were etched across the walls.  

They made their way towards the exit, both parties reluctant to walk away from one another. 

She turned to look at him, catching a glimpse of his bi-colored gaze into her sight. She held her breath, enjoying the way the remaining lights captured the shades of his irises into perfect harmony.  

Afraid to end the momentum, he took the lead and stepped forward, though not too close as to invade her personal space.  

“I would like to see you again.” He spoke gently, carefully, patiently waiting for her response. His words were not a request, nor were they imposing. 

She smiled, flattered. “I’ll make room in my schedule, then.”  

Questions were not part of their relationship; they always held affirmative back-and-forth instead, knowing that inquiring was unnecessary.  

“I’m honoured.” He spoke up, cheekiness underlaid in his tone as he indulged her with his infamous smirk, the one that always made her bite the inside of her cheek to hold herself back. 

She grinned at him, dropping the playful charade they have been sharing this evening. 

“It was nice to see you again, Aemond…” She sighed, content. “It’s been too long.” 

He nodded, pensive. “It has.” 

He had missed her terribly.  

They lost touch in the last few years. She had moved away after getting engaged and started a new life on the other side of the world while he was left alone, their love for each other withering away before it had a chance to bloom, the dirt drying up without water. 

Silence hung between them, like a friend wrapping its arms around the couple’s shoulders in a joint trio. 

She then spoke again, biting her lip in thought. “I’m not really ready to go yet, and god knows I could use some air…” She let out a breath, her courage gathered on the tip of her tongue. “Do you want to go and get some coffee? We could catch up.” 

He agreed to her proposition, marching towards the door as he opened it for her, inviting her into the cool air of the city’s night. 

She smiled and graciously walked through before he followed her. 

They stepped outside meeting the dim lit stars and their moon hovering above them; the golden colours were present whereas the blue had been transformed into its reality counterpart - pure darkness wearing an essence of sublimity instead of its usual malevolence. 

Side by side, they took their time walking down the streets, his name tickling her lips into a softening smile. It was better than any orchestra, he thought, the composition of her voice alone making him feel like a spectator at his own opera show, his lost love becoming the conductor of their renewed symphony. 

The past caught up to them, taking them left and right without a real destination anymore. 

The roads were open, the warmth of their encounter illuminated under a starry night. 

------------------------------

a/n: the exposition was based on something I attended. Loved it. If you need an outing and this happens in your city, go for it. You don't have to be an art advocate, or even really know Van Gogh in depth to appreciate his work and this immersive experience. It's overwhelmingly beautiful (does that make sense?) and worth the 1-2h :)

[pooohwriting]

Tell me I mean nothing

Lady Portia Featherington x Female Reader

Warning: This story is a product of my imagination. Please respect my creativity and do not copy, reproduce, or distribute this work without my permission. Thank you for your understanding and support!

Summary: At a lavish ball, Miss Y/N Montgomery’s world shifts when she locks eyes with the captivating Lady Portia Featherington. The undeniable chemistry leaves her excited yet confused—will she be able to make sense of these feelings that feel so foreign to her?

Chapter 1 : Whispers in the Night

I arrived at the party alongside my closest friends, Eloise and Benedict Bridgerton. Though my family had relocated to London, settling in a quieter area somewhat distant from the bustling heart of the ton to focus on our business, our bond with the Bridgertons had not faded. Now, I found myself here in the heart of the ton, indulging in a much-needed respite while staying with them.

The ballroom gleamed with opulence—crystal chandeliers casting warm light over ladies in dazzling gowns and gentlemen in tailored coats. The scent of roses and freshly baked pastries mingled in the air as music floated from the orchestra. Gentlemen nodded in my direction, and I returned the gesture, not wanting to appear impolite. Eloise and Benedict, true to form, were lost in their usual teasing, their lighthearted laughter a comforting reminder of home.

But then, a flash of vibrant color caught my eye—a family standing out against the muted tones of the room. My gaze lingered, drawn to a particular woman whose striking gown, a vivid emerald, was impossible to ignore.

“Who are they?” I asked, my curiosity piqued.

“The Featheringtons,” Eloise replied. “Lady Featherington and her daughters.”

I hummed softly in response, my eyes still fixed on Lady Featherington. She was older than most women in attendance, yet her beauty radiated with a different kind of elegance—timeless, captivating. The way she held herself, the way her blue eyes seemed to cut through the crowd, left me breathless. She was not like the others.

Was it just her striking gown? Or was it the poise she exuded, commanding the room with an effortless grace? I couldn’t say for certain, but I found it difficult to tear my gaze away. She is beautiful, I thought, though I dared not say it aloud.

Inside the grand estate, the hum of conversation filled the air. I smiled at the Bridgertons, who were now chatting with other guests, and took the opportunity to slip away to the refreshment table, needing a moment to collect my thoughts.

"Are you new here?" A voice, soft yet commanding, came from behind me. I turned and found myself face-to-face with Lady Featherington herself. The woman whose very presence seemed to have taken root in my mind since the moment I saw her.

Caught off guard, I smiled, hoping it didn’t betray my nerves. "I suppose I am," I replied, offering her a slight bow. “I’m staying with the Bridgertons for a while.”

Her lips curled in a smile, her eyes twinkling with curiosity. “Miss Montgomery, is it?”

I nodded, trying not to stare at her too long, though her brilliant blue eyes made it difficult to look away. They seemed to catch the light in a way that made the world around us blur. How could one person hold such an unspoken power over another?

“The pleasure is mine, Lady Featherington,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt.

Before I could gather my thoughts, two young women appeared at her side.

“Mama! We were looking everywhere for you!” one of them exclaimed, her voice lively and full of youthful impatience.

“Oh, girls,” Lady Featherington said with an indulgent smile, “allow me to introduce Miss Montgomery.” She gestured toward me. “These are my daughters, Philippa and Prudence.”

I greeted them politely, but my attention drifted back to Lady Featherington, who seemed to be studying me just as intently. My pulse quickened under her gaze.

We exchanged pleasantries, and I listened as the daughters chattered away, their conversation filled with gossip. Lady Featherington, much like me, remained mostly silent, though I noticed how her attention never fully left me.

As the music swelled, signaling the start of another dance, I excused myself, stepping outside into the garden. The cool night air kissed my skin, offering a welcome respite from the warmth of the ballroom. I took a deep breath, allowing the quiet to calm my racing thoughts.

But even here, beneath the stars, I couldn’t shake the image of her—the way her blue eyes seemed to see right through me, the way she held herself with such effortless grace. What was it about her that made my heart race?

“You seem lost in thought,” came her voice again, slicing through the stillness.

I turned, startled to find her standing behind me, a playful smile tugging at her lips. She was even more breathtaking in the moonlight, her gown shimmering softly against the shadows.

“You really must stop sneaking up on me like that,” I said with a soft laugh, though my pulse quickened once more.

“And you have yet to answer my question,” she said, taking a step closer. “Why aren’t you dancing?”

I shrugged, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. “Dancing has never quite held my interest.”

She tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “Is that so? I find that rather hard to believe. Surely someone must have caught your eye tonight.”

Her words were light, teasing, but her gaze was probing, as if searching for a deeper truth. I swallowed hard, feeling as though I was teetering on the edge of something dangerous.

“There may be someone,” I replied, my voice lower now. The garden seemed to close in around us, the sounds of the party fading into the distance.

“Oh?” she said, her eyebrows lifting in surprise. Her eyes danced with amusement, and I could sense her curiosity growing. “And who might that be?”

I hesitated, but something in me—perhaps the pull I couldn’t explain—gave me courage. “I’d much rather spend my time out here with you than inside with any of them.”

The words hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. My heart raced as I waited for her reaction, unsure of what I had just unleashed.

For a moment, she said nothing, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a small smile curved her lips. “You are quite bold, Miss Montgomery.”

I returned her smile, feeling the tension between us thicken, though I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it. “I’ve been told that before.”

She let out a soft chuckle, the sound warm and rich in the cool night air. “I suppose boldness can be rather… refreshing.”

Before I could respond, we heard the faint sound of voices calling from the house. The party was winding down, and guests were beginning to leave.

“I should fetch my daughters,” she said, her gaze lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary. “But I do hope we cross paths again, Miss Montgomery.”

“Will we?” I asked, my voice betraying more eagerness than I intended.

She gave me a knowing smile, her blue eyes glinting in the moonlight. “Perhaps.”

And with that, she turned and walked back toward the house, leaving me standing in the garden, breathless and full of possibilities.

I stood there, stunned and filled with a happiness that bubbled just beneath the surface. The thrill of possibility hung in the air as I watched her leave, knowing this was not the end but merely the beginning of something wonderfully dangerous.

Authors Note: I hope you’re having a wonderful day! Thank you for taking the time to read my story. I truly hope you enjoy it, and please feel free to share any suggestions or feedback you may have! Thank you!

[bunkahi]

[MAJOR SPOILERS] up to the end of 6.0: Elidibus knew the future, and how translation harmed it's impact.

I posted this on twitter, but almost no one saw. As such I'm uploading it here, not only because I can go into more detail, but because I think this is one of the most important aspects to Elidibus' character that I never see anyone talk about.

Elidibus knew the future. This has been DIRECTLY stated since 2.55... but what you may not know is that this has been indirectly hinted at (more explicitly in Japanese) since Elidibus' first appearance in 2.1. In this sickly written 'essay,' I will be sharing with you all an incoherent babble of Elidibus' story, along with major changes in the English translation that diminish the legitimacy that he knew the future before becoming Zodiark.

Please note: Tl;dr version is at the bottom, for this post IS long. Tl;dr implores you to at least look at the images provided below.

Let us begin not at 2.1, but rather 5.3. The most important translation difference in my personal opinion. It is your climb up the crystal tower, and Elidibus stands before it's throne. As he awaits your arrival, he ponders the crystal in his hand. The crystal of the Exarch's memories... memories of a possible future.

For those who may not be able to see the images above, I will summarize the difference. While most of the translation is the same between Japanese and English, there is one major difference.

In both versions, Elidibus looks at the Crystal and calls it worthless. A possible future is the same as the past. It is fated to fray, fade, and disappear. In English he follows this with "Leaving naught but a gaping void..." Meanwhile, in Japanese he says "Within me as well... could such a thing have once dwelled, I wonder?" (keep in mind I'm trying to keep the translation here as exact as I can, including the awkward structure, as I want it to be easy for people to compare my translation to the original text.)

I think this is very... very interesting. While I, at times, adore Square Enix's liberties in translation (otherwise we would not have the absolute banger “The rains have ceased, and we have been graced with another beautiful day. But you are not here to see it.”), I think this was an interesting moment to take liberties.

What's done is done however, my main focus on this essay is not to criticize the translations though. It is just to inform what I believe is true about Elidibus' character. As such, I will no longer be addressing translation differences beyond providing them for context.

So let us move on to discuss the very interesting implications this has, using the short story "Ere Our Curtain Falls"

English version: "Will you not look at your crystal?" I asked.

When Elidibus was still Elidibus and Lahabrea still Lahabrea, we had collected all of our memories of the Fourteen and committed them to crystal, that those who would take our seats one day might learn. Elidibus would, I was sure, find much within to help him remember─yet he shook his head.

"I am Elidibus. So long as I remember my duty, that is enough. Aught else I would only lose again in the course of this timeless struggle...and if these memories are truly so precious, pray do not ask that I forget them twice."

The last part in Japanese: "I am Elidibus, and I remember what I need to do, and how to accomplish it. That is enough. Even if I remember this or that, I will lose it again in this continuing battle. If it is an important memory, don't make me forget over and over again."

(Link to Japanese story, which you can switch into English, at least on desktop, at the top right of the page)

Elidibus thinks a crystal that holds memories of a possible future is worthless... and he refuses to look at his own memory crystal... how interesting... very very interesting.

As a quick refresher of the important things that occur next: You fight Elidibus and put him in the crystal tower. The final days begins again. Left with no one else to turn to, we go to speak to Elidibus at the crystal tower. He remembers us in the past, and knows where he must send us... which is something that can only be done THANKS to him being sealed in the crystal tower.

And now I feel we can move on to OUR beginning of Elidibus, aka 2.1. Though there is a LOT of text that I feel should not have been altered, I only translated what I feel matters most to me. A specific piece of information that had it's implications completely altered, and the implications that Elidibus goes out of his way to TEACH Minfilia about the ascians.

(I will only transcribe the translation.)

"Was I not passed down in folklore? Well, it has been thousands of years since I last appeared in this world. Can't be helped. You all are the ones who defeated the priest of the abyss. I thought you understood a few things about us but...

We are immortal beings. When we posses a person, even should you destroy the dark crystal, our existence won't be destroyed.

I am the mediator. I have no desire to fight you all. Today, I came only to tell you that. Let us meet again."

Kiiiiind of strange that he would just casually tell us that they can't be defeated like that. What is there to gain in giving away such a secret? Perhaps he's cocky... or perhaps there's more.

to recap what matters in the next patch, 2.2: The sahagins are preparing to summon Leviathan. Y'shtola spies on them, and hears them speak of how they're going to ascend in power (a parallel to things Elidibus said to Minfilia.) We decide to investigate, and witness the Sahagin priest ascend into "immortality," before watching his essence be absorbed within Leviathan, with him questioning why the emissary/white robed one seemed to have tricked him.

Now keep in mind, before this patch, it's already established that Lahabrea is the one to promote primal summonings, AND that Lahabrea is back. What reason would Elidibus have to no only promote the summoning of Leviathan, but to risk teaching immortality to the Sahagin priest, especially when he KNOWS the scions are in direct opposition to not only to the ascians but to primals? And for this to be one of the first things he does, after thousands of years of not appearing in our world, and AFTER he approaches Minfilia to speak of seemingly only non-sense. What, oh what could be the purpose?

"My power... it's being taken... I'm being absorbed by the great water god? Did I... not become... immortal? White robed one... what... is this?!"

It is thanks to this "slip" in Elidibus' decision making that we learn that the ascians are in fact NOT immortal. They are simply beings of aether that have not dispersed. They can be ABSORBED within something, and when that something is destroyed, they don't return. It is directly thanks to Elidibus doing this that we learn not only how to defeat him and his brothers... but also that we can seal him away in the crystal tower.

Surely this is just coincidence, right? There's just no way. Clearly this is all set up to be a piece of sad, tragic irony right?

I take us now to the very final cutscene of 2.55. Though there are differences in translation, I find them mostly negligible. As such I will speak referencing the English translation.

The final cutscene features Lahabrea and Elidibus. Elidibus appears within Lahabrea's shadow to speak of Nabiales' death before the camera changes, placed in a cage and peering into the other side where Lahabrea and Elidibus stand. The bars of the cage separate them, though the darkness makes it hard to see.

Elidibus says that the warrior of light is becoming too strong. That they must make haste to stop them. He suggests Lahabrea head to the northern lands, and Lahabrea agrees and departs.

Urianger appears from the dark behind Elidibus, wishing to know why he has been summoned. To which, Elidibus says the he wishes to speak of fate.

Now why does he do this? As a reminder of what comes next: We defeat Lahabrea, Igeyorhm, and Thordan. This leads to there being no calamity on the source ready to absorb the 1st after it succumbs to light, and the Garleans having access to Azys Lla, meaning they have direct access to the warring triad.

All of this happens at the very end 3.0. However, this conversation between Urianger and Elidibus happens in 2.55. Even should you try to argue that it doesn't take place exactly when it's shown to us, it does HAVE to happen before the mid point of 3.0 at a minimum considering Lahabrea is obviously alive in this cutscene, and more than likely happens before you cross the bridge into Ishgard.

The only thing left to truly note when it comes to this topic is that all of this is reinforced in 3.1 with cutscenes in the Great Gubal Library (2nd to last cutscene of the patch)

"This is thy proof? The Gerun Oracles? Apocrypha."

"Our fates were ordained long ago, Archon. The Garleans are no exception. Nor the Triad. You know what must be done.

In conclusion, Elidibus knew Lahabrea would fail, and that he would need Urianger for not only the warring triad, but to get Minfillia to stop the flood of the first. It was a fate ordained long ago, for we are in a soft timeloop.

Now you may ask, how can you explain him knowing to do this despite his memory loss? If this is all the case, why does he fight us at the crystal tower so genuinely? To be blunt, I cannot give you a direct answer, outside of what is stated above. Elidibus seems to know on SOME level 'some' kind of goal. Specifically saying "I know what I need to do, and how to accomplish it."

Does he directly state what this goal is? No. Ultimately everything above can only be counted as speculation, but personally, I am of the mentality of "why show us this if it's not meant to mean something? Why does Elidibus do something that has already been established as another character's role? Why would THIS be the first thing he does in our world for thousands of years? Why have a character do this if it's not meant to mean something? Especially when THIS something (teaching immortality) leads to the DIRECT consequence of being sealed in the crystal tower, which is our ONLY way to go THAT far into the past to know about Meteion?"

When did he learn the future? That also would be speculation, but as Emet-Selch states, the memory crystals were made before the Zodiark's summoning. If they are truly eluding to his crystal holding memories of a possible future, and the Japanese version of Ere Our Curtain Falls specifically states that he's been losing himself and his memories since the moment he fell from Zodiark to help the convocation, then chances are high it's before the summoning. Who told him would be pure speculation, but the most likely answer is either Venat, Azem, or the Warrior of Light. And before anyone brings this up, no, I do not believe the writers are going to drop every character related to Zodiark and Hydaelyn just because we're moving on to a new chapter. The consequences of the past will continue into the future. While the ancients may no longer be the FOCUS of the story, I doubt we're never going to see them or interact with the past ever again. They will more than likely be explored further in side content ([SPOILERS FROM DAWN TRAIL TRAILER] given Solution 9 has text in Proto-Alphabet, aka the alphabet of the ancients... yeah... um... don't think our explorations related to the ascians and the past are over.) [SPOILERS OVER]

Now, I still haven't worked on translating 4.X, so I will make no comments towards it and any information it might hold in terms of Japanese Elidibus' views on not only the world, but of the future. Perhaps when I have time to translate it I will make a follow up post. I will also be posting some of my smaller translations from twitter to tumblr in time.

Tl;Dr: Elidibus thinks a crystal of a possible future is worthless. He refuses to look at his own crystal. Because his crystal was made before the sundering, he knew the future at least before that point.

Elidibus taught us indirectly how to seal away ascians, and summons Urianger to help him before there is even a CHANCE of knowing he'd need him unless he knew the future.

With this in mind, it's clear to me that Elidibus guided our path into sealing him into the crystal tower so that he could make the time portal and secure the soft timeloop we're in. Though chances are HIGH this is all subconscious the entire time because of memory loss.

Thank you for coming to my Elidibus Talk.

[starscatteredsky]

hi there!! would you be able to do some space/deity tips? nothing involving being worshipped or receiving offerings!! i wasnt known of, i just silently observed different planets ^^

space deity tips

pt: space deity tips

stargaze, moongaze, generally observe your home

try to go to a local observatory if there is one

enjoy the night, whether that be by staying up, waking up early, or just appreciating it without messing with your sleep schedule /lh

get a moon lamp, stars and planets to put on the ceiling, star maps to put up, and generally decorate your room with the universe

collect older, “timeless” things related to space, like small old telescopes and the like

draw/sketch or write about distant places you’ve visited (planets, galaxies, stars, black holes, other species or things you saw, etc!)

find some clothing and jewellery that makes you feel like yourself, deep inky blues/purples, blacks, silvers, whites are all good colours! textures like velvet also often bring space to mind, for the swirly look they give the garment!

collect some cool crystals! i’d recommend bluemoonstone, moonstone, labradorite, opalite, fireopal or blackopal, and bluegoldstone!

learn about how different worldwide mythologies interpreted space/the stars/ the heavens! even if it doesn’t align with yourself, it’s quite interesting!

perhaps take up some kind of religious or spiritual practice regarding space/the night to reconnect with it all! (be mindful of closed cultures/religions!)

enjoy quiet contemplation, and things like meditation, journaling, sketching, or just relaxing with a warm tea :)

i hope these help!! -👾

Requests open!!!

[image description:

a DNI banner with the background being the promotional image for Little Nightmares 2. The writing reads:

"DNI: radqueers, proshippers, radfems/TERFs, antikin/antitherian, homophobic/ ableist/ anti ACAB/ transphobic/ rasist/ antisemitic/ xenophobic/ antitheist/ anti athiest/ bigoted in any fashion, NSFW/sh/ed/cringe centered blog, fakeclaimer

Before you interact: We are pro mspec gays/lesbians, anti endo/tulpa "systems", enjoy MCYT/DSMP, pro self diagnoses with extensive research, multiple alters are punks/ anarchists"

end description]

[manic-maniac-man]

HUgE July 2010

Magnum Opus

Not content with the sound of a "standard," we relentlessly experiment and update. We constantly refine the details and fearlessly embrace change.

Only for those who don't give up on design.

I want to believe in new possibilities that are out of reach.

What we are looking for is simply a certain appeal that is unique to that piece of clothing.

Fashion is unfathomable because simple functional beauty alone is not enough.

Rick Owens nylon jacket

Leather is not the only thing that Rick Owens excels at. This nylon blouson is also an item that fully demonstrates the brand’s value.

It is made of extremely fine black nylon with a silky texture.

The body and sleeves are quite tight-fitting and long. All of these choices are based on the designer's unwavering aesthetic sense. It is a challenging piece that achieves a new reality without relying on the rugged charm of military wear.

Rick Owens nylon blouson ¥163,800 (Pred PR)

Paul Harnden's waxed coat

In addition to the classic regular collar Cord "MAC", this stand-up collar "NEW MAC" has been released since the 2009-10 A/W season. It is a new masterpiece that is the crystallization of Paul Harnden's stubborn clothing making. Moreover, this 2010-11 A/W model uses waxed cotton for the material. It feels extremely tough and the collar shape can be adjusted freely. The matte grey color also has a timeless appeal. There is no excessive decoration, but it makes a statement in every direction. It is a coat that you will want to wear all season long, from autumn to spring.

Paul Harnden's Waxed Coat "NEW MAC ¥165,900 (MORERIDE)

Tailored down vest from Engineered Garments

Down vests have been released by many brands and are gaining in popularity. They are sure to be a must-have item this winter as well. In this context, Engineered Garments has come up with a new approach. They have adopted a tailored vest design for the front hem, incorporating a dressy element into this outdoor item. The straps, which also function as adjusters, also enhance the fashionability and help to give it an elegant impression. They can be worn as an inner layer under a jacket, or matched with a shirt and tie, making them suitable for a wide range of occasions, from dressy to casual.

(Engineered Garments) Tailored down vest ¥30,450, leather jacket ¥220,500, BD shirt ¥29,400, tie ¥11,550, pants ¥36,750, newsboy cap ¥10,500 (all Engineered Garments) (Martin F.) × (Needles) belt ¥16,800 (Nepenthes Tokyo)

The first collection of "Levi's® Lefty Jean by Takahiro Kuraishi"

Takahiro Miyashita, who left Number Nine, and Kazuki Kuraishi, who works as the creative product manager for Adidas, are the two of them in their collaboration with Levis®. As the name suggests, this is an attempt to move iconic details that are normally on the right side, such as the red tab, two-horse patch, and back pocket, to the left side. Three types of items are available: a jacket, a shirt, and bottoms. They come in three materials: indigo, off-white, and gray, and feature round necks and stand-up collars. They are trying to break down established values with their innovative reality.

From the right: (Levi's® Lefty Jean by Takahiro Kuraishi) denim pants in indigo ¥19,950, off-white and gray ¥18,900 each, denim jacket in indigo ¥25,200, off-white and gray ¥24,150 each, shirt ¥16,800 each (all Levi Strauss Japan)

Tom Ford three-piece suit

"The pursuit of true luxury" is the sole concept that Tomford upholds. Tailoring is at the core of this concept, and is the key to leading men towards luxury. The three-piece suits, based on British taste, are characterized by large peak lapels, long lengths, and shaped waists. Although they are ready-to-wear, many steps are done by hand, and the level of perfection is almost like that of bespoke. When the skilled tailoring that impresses even connoisseurs is combined with Tomford's unique sensibilities, luxury reaches its pinnacle. You can enjoy the utmost elegance from start to finish of the V-zone.

Tom Ford three-piece suit ¥588,000, clerical shirt ¥58,800, tie ¥29,400. tie bar ¥147,000, handkerchief ¥18,900 (all Tom Ford Japan)

UNDER COVER shopping bags and pouches

The bags are replicas of supermarket shopping bags, and there are 18 types of pouches in the shape of fruit, vegetables, milk, ketchup bottles, etc. This is another product and message that is unique to UNDER COVER. The theme for the 2010-11 A/W collection is "Avakareta Life." In other words, what they faced was "unadorned everyday life," and this attitude has come to fruition in these items. It is also a statement of protest against fashion that lacks passion and only leans toward simplification. It is not enough to be simple; it is only when exciting designs are added to it that there is meaning in continuing to create.

(UNDER COVER) shopping bags: small ¥4,725, large ¥5,775, pouches ¥3,675~¥5,250 (all UNDER COVER)

Hermes leather bracelet

Few leather accessories are as high-quality and timeless as Hermes'. The design of this leather bracelet is inspired by the martingale, a horse harness used to prevent a horse's head from rising too high. The leather straps are connected with silver, creating a simple yet sharp design. It is a statement piece, but can be worn with any style. The material is carefully tanned calf leather, which gives off an elegant luster. The texture improves with use, making it truly appealing. It is an accessory that makes you feel the pride of the Maison every time you wear it.

Hermes leather bracelet ¥129,150, bracelet with chain ¥92,400, knitwear ¥111,300, pants ¥85,050 (all Hermes Japon)

Soft hat from Comme des Garcons Junya Watanabe Man

For the 2010-11 A/W season, Comme des Garcons Junya Watanabe Man has added Borsalino to its collaboration.

Two hats were released: Pork Pie and Tyrolean. Entitled "This is a Man," the latest collection expresses a man's attention to detail, and these double-named hats feature as key items in every look. Both hats are made from rabbit fur and come in three colors. Perhaps their greatest feature is the original camouflage pattern on the lining. The thorough attention to detail in hidden parts is truly unique to the theme.

<Comme des Garcons Junya Watanabe Man>

Soft hats ¥54,600 each(All Comme des Garcons)

Stone Island Shadow Project stand-up collar coat

Casual wear is crafted with a formal sensibility and attention to detail. Founded in Italy in 1982 with this simple and sturdy attitude, Stone Island has now launched its long-awaited high-end line, Shadow Project. The clothing, created by Germany's elite design team ACRONYM, has pockets, tags and other decorations stored inside a flap, completely concealing them. The material used is the original DAVIT-T material, which boasts functionality comparable to Gore-Tex, and is Teflon-coated, making for an overwhelming quality. A promising new star has appeared in the midst of the outdoor boom.

(Stone Island Shadow Project) Stand-up collar coat ¥149,100 (CPC Press Room)

[lamaisongaga]

LADY GAGA PERFORMS AT NEMACOLIN SUMMER SOLSTICE

In honor of the grand reopening of their Chateau, Pennsylvania-based resort Nemacolin hosted a Summer Solstice event for three days and invited a variety of superstars such as Lionel Richie, Jimmy Fallon and, of course, Lady Gaga!

The first look of her jazz set was this stunning full Ralph Lauren ensemble which included the Spring/Summer 2024 Braydon copper metallic mesh with tonal, light-catching crystals and high knot neckline ($8,000).

"My Spring 2024 women’s collection is about a new kind of romance—cool and sophisticated. It’s about the freedom of creating a personal style through the artistry of faded denims and painterly florals, the modern sophistication of timeless icons reimagined in black and gold, or the eclectic mix of bold colors, shine, and luxurious handcrafted details. These are the stories of the woman I design for, whose individuality and artistic spirit are a canvas for her own self-expression." Ralph said.

She also wore a custom long stole version of the Fall/Winter 2012 hand-painted black and metallic gold marabou shawl.

Gaga's look was completed with another custom plummet showgirl awe by Arturo Rios...

...and her beloved Jimmy Choo Anouk pumps in black patent leather.

This outfit intrigued and surprised me both at the same time.

When it comes to fringe mini dresses of the same silhouette, she usually goes to Adrián Manceras. But last night, she chose to dig into the archives of Naeem Khan and pull out this Fall/Winter 2020 sunset-inspired awe.

Tonal gold accessories completed the look! The stunning metallic mottled palm leaf fascinator is signed by Aimee Fuller Millinery...

...while the metallic Anouk pumps are by, you knew it already, Jimmy Choo!

This look, as you already know, is total Giorgio Armani which comprises this plush black velvet strapless bustier column dress with crystal band embellishment ($4,777) and the Fall/Winter 2018 Privé Haute Couture pink ostrich coque feather coat.

Her new pale pink Julia veiled fascinator (£395) is from Carrie Jenkinson Millinery's Spring/Summer 2024 collection...

… and the Melissa opera-length black velvet gloves (£160) are by Cornelia James.

It‘s Michael Costello‘s world and we‘re just living in it! His third custom dress for our girl this week is this uuuuuultra sexy black satin number with one-shoulder caftan silhouette, trimmed with luxurious ostrich feathers by Mother Plucker Feather Company and featuring beaded appliqués on the shoulder and waist.

It was finished off with this vintage Philip Treacy 1996 black feather firework headpiece which has already been previously worn by Gaga back in London in 2015!

[twistedmindtales]

The Penthouse

Justin was a wealthy stock trader known for his extravagant lifestyle, reveling in the opulence that money had bestowed upon him. Now in his mid-thirties, he hailed from a modest family in a small town, he grew up with dreams that seemed far out of reach. Yet, even from a young age, Justin possessed an unwavering determination and an insatiable hunger for success. His analytical mind and innate ability to predict market trends led him to pursue a career as a stock trader.

Leaving his hometown behind, he ventured to Wall Street, immersing himself in the fast-paced world of finance. With relentless dedication and a sharp intellect, he swiftly ascended the ranks, accumulating a significant fortune and earning a reputation as a shrewd trader.

Charismatic and confident, Justin exuded an air of self-assurance that commanded attention. His belief in his abilities drove him forward, propelling him through high-pressure situations with ease. Ambition coursed through his veins, and he refused to settle for anything less than extraordinary. Setting his sights on ambitious goals, he pursued them with relentless tenacity, using his sharp intellect and a keen eye for opportunities to make calculated decisions. Though his drive sometimes manifested as arrogance, it stemmed from his unmatched confidence in his capabilities.

Yet, beneath his ambitious exterior, Justin wrestled with an insatiable hunger for more. The pursuit of success often left him yearning for greater heights, preventing him from fully appreciating his accomplishments. There was a constant fear of complacency lurking within him, driving him to seek the next big challenge. With his thirst for material wealth and status, Justin struggled to find true contentment. Once he amassed his fortune trading on Wall Street, he now purchased the tallest and most luxurious penthouse condo in the heart of Los Angeles.

It was an architectural marvel that offered breathtaking views of the sprawling city below, with its shimmering lights and pulsating energy. Perched high above the bustling streets of L.A., Justin’s luxurious penthouse exuded an air of refined elegance. From the moment one stepped into the grand foyer, they were enveloped in an atmosphere of unparalleled luxury and sophistication.

The entrance hall, lined with gleaming marble floors, bathed in the soft glow of crystal chandeliers that cascaded from the lofty ceiling. Intricately designed wall sconces dotted the walls, casting gentle light upon the exquisite artwork. Moving deeper into the penthouse, an expansive living area awaited, showcasing a harmonious blend of contemporary timeless aesthetics.

Floor-to-ceiling windows framed the panoramic views of the City of Angels, where the shimmering lights of the sprawling metropolis stretched as far as the eye could see. A state-of-the-art home theater system seamlessly merged into the walls, providing a sanctuary for cinematic indulgence. Adjacent to the living area, a gourmet chef’s kitchen beckoned, replete with sleek granite countertops, top-of-the-line appliances, and custom-designed cabinetry that housed an impressive collection of culinary treasures. A sprawling center island, illuminated by delicate pendant lights, served as the heart of this culinary haven, inviting guests to gather and witness the masterful culinary creations that would emanate from its depths, although Justin dined alone most evenings.

The master suite, a sanctuary of tranquility and indulgence, awaited at the end of a private corridor. Upon entering, one was greeted by an expanse of space adorned with plush, handcrafted furnishings. A king-sized bed, adorned with sumptuous linens and an array of meticulously arranged accent pillows, stood as the centerpiece, commanding attention. A private parlor behind a small inconspicuous door off the bedroom, adorned with rich mahogany bookcases and a custom-designed desk, offered a retreat for Justin’s intellectual pursuits. The ensuite bathroom, a masterpiece in its own right, boasted floor-to-ceiling Italian marble, cascading rain showers, and a decadent soaking tub that overlooked the breathtaking Los Angeles skyline. Ornate gold fixtures sparkled under the gentle glow of intricately designed chandeliers, adding a touch of regality to the space. Throughout the penthouse, an intelligent home automation system seamlessly integrated technology with the utmost sophistication. From the touch of a button, the ambient lighting would adjust, music would softly waft through hidden speakers, and motorized curtains would glide open, revealing the majestic vista outside.

The piece de resistance of Justin’s castle, a sprawling outdoor terrace awaited, beckoning Justin and his guests to bask in the glory of the city night sky. A sparkling infinity pool stretched towards the horizon, seemingly merging with the sky, while plush loungers and sumptuous seating arrangements provided the perfect setting for sun-soaked relaxation or elegant soirées under the stars.

Amidst the resplendent backdrop of his penthouse, Justin decided to host an extravagant gathering to commemorate the closure of a momentous business deal. The space was transformed into a scene of revelry and excess, as the crème de la crème of the business world mingled with glasses of champagne in hand. Guests, adorned in designer attire, oozed an air of self-importance as they engaged in spirited conversations, their voices laced with arrogance and thinly veiled competition.

Alexander proclaimed, “Did you hear about my latest acquisition? It’s a game-changer, I tell you.”

Penelope scoffed in response, “Oh, that’s cute. But let me tell you about my recent expansion into international markets. It’s only a matter of time before I dominate them all.”

“Please, both of you, step aside. My latest venture capital investment is the talk of the town. The future of Los Angeles belongs to me!” Maxwell said while popping his collar.

Amidst the cacophony of boastful declarations and competitive chatter, Justin’s weariness from the festivities and celebratory libations began to take its toll. As the night wore on, he found himself growing increasingly aware of subtle, yet peculiar happenings within his opulent abode. Whispers seemed to linger in the air as if carried by unseen forces, and shadows danced with mischievous energy. Drunk and disoriented, Justin’s senses played tricks on him. He couldn’t shake the feeling that the elegant paintings lining the walls observed the soirée with a mischievous glint in their eyes. The flickering candlelight cast elongated shadows that seemed to move of their own accord, adding an eerie touch to the luxurious ambiance.

Justin was the only one who seemed to notice.

As he stumbled through the lavish space, his steps grew unsteady as he encountered his reflection in a grand mirror. For a fleeting moment, he swore that his own reflection had smirked back at him, the contours of his face twisted in a sinister grin before returning to its familiar visage. Echoing whispers again floated through the air, carrying snippets of conversations long past or that may have never existed at all. A soft touch of a breeze suddenly tickled the nape of his neck, though no windows were open to invite such a draft.

Disoriented and increasingly unnerved while struggling to maintain his composure, Justin decided to retreat to the solace of his private parlor. The sanctuary offered a much-needed reprieve from the overwhelming presence of his self-absorbed guests and increasingly strange occurrences.

The room, shrouded in shadows, seemed to pulsate with otherworldly energy. The elegant furniture that once exuded comfort now loomed with an unsettling presence. The once-vibrant colors appeared distorted as if painted with shades unseen by mortal eyes.

Justin quickly burst through the small door leading to his bedroom and collapsed onto his bed, the weight of the evening and the inexplicable events pressing upon his weary mind. As he drifted between sleep and consciousness, his thoughts swirled with questions and trepidation. Was it the alcohol playing tricks on his senses, or had his penthouse become a stage for something far beyond his comprehension?

As the night wore on, and the final echoes of the gathering faded into silence, Justin’s exhaustion consumed him. Eyes heavy with weariness, he succumbed to a weighted slumber.

As the morning light filtered through the floor-to-ceiling windows, Justin groaned and reluctantly stirred from his alcohol-induced slumber. His head throbbed mercilessly, and a parched tongue clung to the roof of his mouth. Disoriented, he initially believed that the previous night’s unsettling occurrences were merely the byproduct of an overindulgent celebration.

Shaking off the remnants of his hangover, Justin rose from his bed and began to wander aimlessly through the expansive penthouse. The space, adorned with its lavish decor, appeared as it always had. Yet, a nagging sense of unease tugged at the edges of his consciousness, his only relief was seeing that his guests had all left and seemingly cleaned up after themselves.

As he moved from room to room, Justin’s footsteps echoed through the expanse, seeming oddly hushed against the plush carpets beneath his feet. He cast his gaze upward, expecting to see familiar ceilings, but something caught his attention. The height of the penthouse seemed subtly different—almost imperceptibly taller than he remembered.

Puzzled, Justin’s eyes traced the walls, searching for clues. The crown molding that had once elegantly framed the rooms now stood slightly higher, accentuating the lofty ceilings. The custom-made furniture, which had once fit perfectly within the space, now appeared ever so slightly dwarfed against the expanded dimensions of the penthouse.

With a furrowed brow, Justin continued his exploration. The windows, once offering a mesmerizing view of the Los Angeles skyline, now seemed to be positioned higher, as if the penthouse itself had been lifted closer to the heavens. The breathtaking panorama appeared distorted, the familiar landmarks below appearing minuscule against the backdrop of the city.

Every corner he turned, every detail he observed, heightened Justin’s unease. The grand chandeliers that had once graced the ceilings now dangled at an uncomfortably greater distance from the floor. The art pieces that had once adorned the walls seemed to shrink in proportion, lost within the expanse of the newly elongated space.

His heart quickened, and a sense of apprehension settled within him. It was as if the penthouse itself had undergone an inexplicable transformation, stretching upward in defiance of the laws of physics. The very architecture of his sanctuary seemed to mock his attempts to find normalcy, whispering an unsettling truth—that the events of the previous night were not merely the delusions of an intoxicated mind. Justin reached for his phone only to find that he was not receiving any service at these new heights. He rushed towards the elevator, and it was as if the elevator car was thirty floors below and completely unreachable. The door that lead to the emergency stair exit was now covered and was like it never existed at all.

Bewildered, Justin couldn’t shake the lingering feeling that he had stumbled into an altered reality, where the dimensions of his penthouse exceeded the boundaries of normalcy and he had lost all contact with the outside world. The once-familiar dwelling now loomed with an eerie grandeur, leaving him to question if he had unwittingly stepped into a twisted realm where the laws of space and perception were forever changed. With each passing day, the frequency and intensity of these disturbances escalated, unsettling the very core of his being. Shadows danced on the periphery of his vision, objects shifted position when his back was turned, and eerie sounds reverberated through the halls, chilling his soul.

One fateful night, Justin awoke to a chilling realization that his once-familiar sanctuary had been irrevocably altered. His disheveled state of mind was met with a surreal scene, as his bedroom had undergone a profound transformation. The meticulously arranged furniture now adorned unfamiliar corners, and his bed had inexplicably migrated to the opposing wall. Paralyzed by fear, he grasped at straws, attributing this bizarre occurrence to the mischievous antics of his affluent companions—a high-stakes prank orchestrated by those who reveled in his fortune. But this was no prank, and his friends seemed light-years away.

Nevertheless, the passage of time shattered Justin’s fragile illusions. The ethereal metamorphosis within his home grew increasingly extreme, plunging him into a maelstrom of disorientation and despair. The very architecture of the walls seemed to shift and contort, defying the laws of physics and reaching unimaginable heights nearing the edge of the Earth’s atmosphere. Mysterious symbols and cryptic markings etched themselves onto surfaces, their enigmatic origins eluding comprehension. The once-secure walls now seemed to harbor an otherworldly force, tightening its grip on Justin’s sanity.

The anxiety and fear made him pass out on the floor and when he awoke, he was no longer confined to the familiarity of his fancy penthouse. Instead, he found himself confined within a sterile, antiseptic chamber devoid of windows or discernible exits. The stark white walls offered no solace, their pristine surfaces mocking his predicament. Trapped and alone, Justin’s heart pounded with trepidation, his breath hitching as he realized that he was now at the mercy of an otherworldly presence.

These extraterrestrial beings, tall and slender with elongated limbs and piercing black eyes, conducted their clandestine observations upon Justin. Their elongated fingers probed and prodded as if dissecting the secrets of his very existence. Terror coursed through his veins, pleading eyes beseeching for mercy, yet the enthralling gaze of the aliens remained impassive, oblivious to his desperate cries which seemed to have no actual sound.

Justin found himself subjected to a series of bewildering and unsettling experiments. Initially, the alien beings conducted physical examinations, meticulously analyzing his body from head to toe. Their touch was precise and clinical as if they were studying an intriguing specimen. They scanned him with advanced devices, emitting faint hums and glows as they delved into the intricacies of his physiology.

As the days turned into weeks, the experiments took on a more invasive nature. Justin was subjected to strange devices that emitted eerie lights and emitted low-frequency vibrations. The aliens seemed to be testing the limits of his endurance and resilience, pushing him to the edge of his physical and mental capabilities.

They probed his mind, delving deep into his memories and thoughts, seeking to unravel the intricacies of human consciousness. Justin’s thoughts and emotions were laid bare, his innermost secrets exposed to these otherworldly beings. It was an invasion of privacy that left him feeling vulnerable and violated.

The aliens, driven by an insatiable curiosity, continued their relentless exploration. They exposed Justin to bizarre environments, altering gravity and atmospheric conditions to observe his reactions. They manipulated time itself, subjecting him to accelerated or decelerated experiences that distorted his sense of reality.

Through it all, Justin’s pleas and protests fell on deaf ears. The aliens seemed incapable of understanding his distress, their motives and intentions were shrouded in enigmatic silence. He became a mere pawn in their pursuit of knowledge, a specimen trapped in their inscrutable experiment.

The sense of dread that had initially consumed Justin grew with each passing day. He realized that escape was futile, and a profound sense of hopelessness settled over him. Days turned into weeks, and any glimmer of hope flickered like a dying ember. The confines of the alien vessel became his prison, the relentless experimentation an inescapable torment. He witnessed the boundaries of his endurance crumble, consumed by the unshakable certainty that he would never again witness the embrace of the outside world. Dread constricted his every thought, the lingering fear of forever languishing within the clutches of these inscrutable beings—an existence devoid of all hope and devoid of the life he once knew.

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