#and his name is ARCANGELO

[foolishcrow]

every xmas my buddy and i watch the pink christmas episode, its a tradition. also jason schwartzman's character sings in it

anyone else remember the jaden smith big toblerone anime

[lovebiteshard]

vampires (THEY KISS!)

[princessoflalaland]

synopsis: in which worick reassures he loves your small boobs

content: smut, dry humping, breast play

“She’s…not stacked?”

you glare at him. “no, she’s not, jackass. keep your dumbass comments to yourself, arcangelo.”

worick's stupid comment does not go over your head. he's made it a stupid habit to voice his thoughts about women; not derogatory, just honest (in his eyes). it’s not like he’s wrong though: your tits are small, not as impressive as alex's.

normally, it doesn’t bother you, but the comment is coming from someone you find remotely attractive, someone you've pining over for the past couple of weeks. so it stings a bit more than usual. worick curls his lips into that sexy, shit-eating grin he’s known for as you storm off after nicolas. he makes a silent promise to change your mindset on him and those cute tits of yours.

little do you know that feature, along with many other things about you, is what turns him on the most. so, in the moments when it’s just the two of you in the apartment, he has you straddling his lap. he kneads the small yet plush mounds on your chest, making you whine and writhe on his growing bulge.

he grinds his hips up into your clothed cunt, groaning around the nipple in his mouth. “such pretty, perky tits.” his faded blue eyes peer up at you, pools of lust that makes your stomach flip. “dunno why you’d get upset over them.”

you bite your lip and huff out a moan. “'m not upset about them. i’m upset over—” an involuntary whine interrupts you. worick pinched the nipple that isn’t in his mouth and let his teeth clam down gently on the one his mouth. heat and arousal pumps through you with every beat of your racing heart. “y-your words. that’s what upset m-mee..”

“aw, darling.”he coos, popping off your sensitive nipple. he pays attention to the next one, swiping his expert tongue over your areola. “didn’t mean to make you mad.”

he can’t get over the look on your face. your pleasure keeps you from fully contorting your beautiful face into an expression of anger. he rolls one of your sensitive buds between his fingers, eliciting another cry from you. “in case you can’t tell, i fuckin love your tits.” he sucks a dark mark onto your breast, his groans vibrating over your nerves. “they’re so cute. who needs giant tits when i got these, hm?”

your hips haven’t stopped gyrating over worick's jeans. the friction was delectable, and pairing that with his lips on your smooth skin, that was enough to get you closer to a desperate climax. through your pathetic noises, you say, “y-you mean that?”

“course i do, baby. your tits are perfect, made f’me to suck on till i cum in my pants.” his vulgar words make the wet patch on your panties damper. “love you and your lil tits, princess.”

your hips stutter as you cum through your favorite pair of panties. your fingers dig through his ash blonde mane, yanking at the locks as your walls spasms around nothing. his name is a breathless whisper on your lips, a sound that rings in his ears even after you’re done cumming.

worick watches your sclera fill your eyes as they disappear entirely into your skull, he revels in the way your body jerks ever so slightly from ecstasy. he can just about cum in his pants from the sight.

a thin trail of saliva connecting his lips to your breasts glints from the low light in the room. worick presses a tender kiss to each nipple then to your mouth.

“i’m sorry, y/n if i made you feel less than perfect.” his voice is raw with honesty, his eyes carefully focused on yours.

“if you want my forgiveness, you’ll make me cum again.” you always know exactly what to get out of this man that is utterly whipped for you.

his signature smirk makes a reappearance. “of course, princess.”

[talonabraxas]

Archangel Michael and the Rebel Angels Talon Abraxas

San Michele Arcangelo (Saint Michael the Archangel) is a significant figure in Christian tradition, especially in Catholicism, Orthodoxy, and Anglicanism. He is one of the seven archangels and is considered a powerful protector and spiritual warrior. His name, Michael, means "Who is like God?" in Hebrew, reflecting his role as a defender of God's will and justice.

“Roles and Significance:

1. “Defender Against Evil”: Saint Michael is depicted as the leader of God's armies in the battle against Satan and the forces of evil. In the “Book of Revelatio” (12:7-9), he leads the heavenly forces in casting Lucifer and the rebel angels out of heaven.

2. “Patron Saint”: He is the patron saint of soldiers, police officers, and those who fight for justice. Many churches, chapels, and shrines are dedicated to him around the world, and he is celebrated for his protection and guidance in spiritual warfare.

3. “Protector of the Church”: In Catholic tradition, Saint Michael is seen as the guardian of the Church, and his intercession is invoked in prayers for protection from evil forces, such as in the famous "Prayer to Saint Michael" written by Pope Leo XIII.

4. “Iconography”: Saint Michael is often depicted in art as a warrior with a sword or spear, often standing over a dragon or demonic figure, symbolizing his victory over Satan. He may also carry scales, symbolizing his role in weighing souls on Judgment Day.

5. “Feast Days”: His principal feast day is celebrated on “September 29”, known as the Feast of the Archangels, which includes Saint Michael, Saint Gabriel, and Saint Raphael.

In Italy, Saint Michael is highly revered, with famous shrines such as the “Sanctuary of Monte Sant'Angelo” on Mount Gargano, one of the oldest and most important sites dedicated to him in the Christian world.

[lexsssu]

Little (Worick Arcangelo)

Flufftober Day 31

TAGS: Worick/F!reader, arranged marriage, drabble

He was 13, and you were 2 when an engagement was tentatively settled between your families. Once you came of age, Wallace Arcangelo would marry into your family as your husband and produce heirs with pretty blue eyes.

Back then, he did look forward to the day he could finally leave the gilded cage he had lived in for as long as he could remember. Although you were still a baby, your unreserved smiles and laughter made him think that you’d both certainly get along once you grew up. Even if it was an arranged marriage, he supposes that you’d both learn to become friends at the very least.

But after the events that led to him becoming an orphan, the memory of you faded away into obscurity to become nothing more than a remnant of better times.

And that is how you should have stayed, not standing in front of him in the flesh as unconscious thugs surrounded you. When he heard a commotion happening in another of Ergastulum’s alleyways, how could he not check what was happening?

“I’m looking for someone named Wallace Arcangelo.”

His breath hitched as he heard your mature voice, his lone blue eye going over your entire body and replacing the past image of you.

It seems his past wasn’t done chasing him yet.

[sheyshen]

Some little Rook thoughts because building my OCs of course:

-Mateo's mom is dalish and his dad is a crow. (i haven't settled on names yet but leaning with Rio for his dad's name) -His dad is very serious and no nonsense when he's working, but one on one with his wife and kids he's very caring and loving. He expects his kids to treat him as a superior rather than a father when in public. -Mateo is the middle child of 3. His older brother is Nicolai and he runs a bakery and his younger sister is Ari and travels with the dalish and their mother. -Mateo and Nico live together in an apartment above the bakery, he has to be on the go a lot so it made sense to them to just share a space. -He loooves cats, and has a handful that wander around the bakery. -He has a habit of using nicknames with people he's comfortable with, normally just a shortened version of their name -He's generally a very positive person and tends to always have a smile on his face. Even when he's nervous or scared (a smile better suits a hero after all) and cracks jokes to try and diffuse situations -His brother was injured during a training session when him and mateo were kids and he never properly recovered so he decided opening a bakery (which was his passion and dream job) was the next best thing. -Their family name is Arcangelo -He joined house de Riva when he was first getting his footing as a crow because he wanted to prove himself away from his father. -He has a very good relationship with his parents and siblings, and has a hard time keeping things from them. -Sometimes when he's really stressed he'll just go home to lay with the cats

[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Ficino Fam-jam Update

Five MILLION years later, I have the names of all of Ficino's siblings (I was just missing one sister at this point, but still).

Full list: Cherubino, Agnola, Daniello, Anselmo, Beatrice, Arcangelo

I've been mucking around on the digital archives of the Biblioteca Medicea Laurenziana for Reasons and stumbled across one of Ficino's compiled works that includes a letter to his siblings about parental obligations.

I'm working through a (very rough) translation and can happily inform all of you that even at the age of 21 Ficino was already Like That.

But Agnola! Agnola was the name I was missing. Hello Agnola it is nice to finally see you.

And confirming that everyone was alive at least as of 1455 (the year date in the detail is wrong, it's MCCCCLV not MCCCLV). The earliest sibling death I know of is in 1462 when Anselmo died.

Side note: 1462 is the same year that Cosimo buys a house near the hospital of S. Maria Nuova and donates it for the duration of their life to Marsilio and his mother. I'm so curious about the details around that whole deal. All of this is a year after Beatrice's marriage, which occurred circa 1461.

double side note:

Innocent student: did Marsilio study at the university of Bologna??

Beleaguered Ficinian scholar: We Do Not ask the Bologna question.

(Not unless you want the ghosts of Kristeller, Marcel, and Corsi to rise from the grave and fist fight each other. ...I mean could be fun.)

(just read the following:)

And here opens a particularly complex and delicate chapter of Ficino's biography concerning his stay at the University of Bologna to deepen his study of the Peripatetic philosophers and dedicate himself to medicine. The hypothesis, advanced by Corsi and taken up by Della Torre, was refuted by Kristeller and partially rehabilitated by Marcel.

[ciaossu-imagines]

GANGSTA. MASTERLIST

Alex Benedetto

Delico

Dr. Theo

Marco Adriano

Who in the relationship...

Spending the night with their crush and oops, there's only one bed

NSFW headcanons

Nicolas Brown

Worick Arcangelo

Dating app headcanons

Opinions on quickies

Striker

[arc-angel-o]

OMG NEO YOKIO URL HIIII!!! do u have any arcangelo hcs if so pls pls share 🙏

OMG U LOVE NEO YOKIO TOO??

I have sooo many headcanons.

Genderfluid Arcangelo is so important to me, I gave her a playlist!

At first it was just because I'm genderfluid but it actually makes so much sense. Usually in fics I write him as aware of his gender to some degree at least but closeted except to like maybe Matoko because -

I headcanon them as best friends.

In general I think he probably has some identity issues, a constantly changing self esteem, he doesn't know who he is and whenever he thinks he knows he's unsatisfied.

He's not interested in work, but he does like making music for fun, and secretly thinks Magistocrats are cool.

That last part could cause some problems because I also think...

HE'S AN ANGEL. This is more theory than headcanon, but I believe that a future season(s) was supposed to introduce the concept of angels and those would include Arcangelo and his family. (One day I'll go more in depth with this theory.)

Speaking of his family. I have OCs. I never decided on names for his parents, but I think his mama was a famous singer and his father was the guy in the tourism video. For his siblings, I have younger brother named Alto for him, and an older sister named Angela. Alto resents Arcangelo, and to a lesser extent Arcangelo resents Angela.

Also I love ace4ace kazangelo.

[lovebiteshard]

Hi please talk about your inserts here's an excuse in the form of an ask

oh my god thank you i love talking im getting on my ipad for this

i think i’m just gonna talk about renato and arcangelo lalala

okay so renato is my inside job sona and i love him dearly… i feel bad cause i dont talk about him as much right now but he’s one of my more developed sonas. his full name is renato ettore scheimpough (hes a nepo baby slash half joke) and hes around 29 ^_^ he’s the head of Cognito’s psych department, and he’s also a psychic! i have a little blurb about him that i havent posted on this blog yet so i’m gonna drop that below this.

❝ The reclusive head of Cognito's psychology department. It's rare to see him outside his domain, his few-and-far-between appearances making him a bit of an office enigma- as if there aren't enough already. Tasked with the job of [and fascinated with] prying into the minds of the public. ❞

so really his whole thing is that hes kinda off-putting and autistic but he does his job well and nobody messes with him. sometimes when he gets scared he blows up lamps without meaning to. very sad.

eventually im gonna have to change his name to like. renato ettore scheimpough-hand. maybe. his name gets longer every day JOKE but i want brettnato to be husbands. lost focus and had a consensual workplace relationship FUN FACT they meet in “canon” after brett fucks up still valley. renato yells at him for like 15 minutes over it and brett doesnt register a single word because he’s like wow… hes pretty.

okay moving on arcangelo i hope at least one person who reads this knows him by now because all i post is astangelo its like a problem. BUT hes my b.g.3 s/i and his full name is arcangelo romano and hes a half-elf vampire bard. he’s like 29-30 ish physically so hes a little younger than astarion but mentally he’s around the same age. what i have lorewise for him rn is kinda still messy but the gist is that he was turned essentially to be live entertainment and he becomes a full vampire by attacking his mistress in a fit of fear. still loose im not super sure about the logistics of vampires in bal.durs gate but i’ll figure it out ^_^

anywaysies arcangelo plays the lyre (living vicariously through him) the clarinet, piano, and he sings (i can do these things. #canon) and he really likes . a sort of gothic? fashion? like think sad victorian boy my words escape me <- okay mr chatterbox. regardless he’s very frilly and fragile looking but he’s strong. like how ants are little but strong. he’s also very gloomy thats like his vampirisms he’s very gloomy and reserved most of the time but once he warms up to you he’s happier ^_^ i like to put him in pretty dresses and go wowww so nice wow astarion will like that one

ohhh also arcangelo can polymorph (because hes a bard) so he likes to be a kitty cat or a dog sometimes and hang out like that instead. peace and calm. OH AND HE CAN TURN INTO A BAT because hes a vampire . fun facts all around

astangelo is super important to me because i ran into astarion during a pretty rough time for me so its like. he’s near and dear. dearly departed and whatnot. i just like having them be the sweet and niceys :)

[forgotten-elves]

"Parenthood"

________________

Enduring Roots: Orchard Gen: Part 17

________________

Founder: Francesca Phantom

Traits: Erratic, Cheerful, Horse Lover, Immortal, Carefree, Incredibly Friendly, Animal Whisperer, Brave, Animal Affection, Collector, Gregarious, Graduated High School Early

Aspiration: Country Caretaker

Enduring Roots Legacy Challenge Rules

_________________

Nicomede and Arcangelo aged up into infants!

Nicomede has the calm trait, and the frequently sneezes, picky eater, and free-air tinkler quirks. Arcangelo has the cautious trait, and the hates wake-up time, snuggly sleeper, and loves sounds quirks.

Francesca and Stephon have their hands full. They've been surviving off of batches of plentiful needs potions, and Stephon stopped taking any gigs during the first month while they tried settle into some sort of schedule. Francesca wasn't able to take much time off school or work, but she's only taking one class at a time and working from home, so it's been manageable so far.

Francesca decided to show Stephon the fairy ring and sprite altar. Their lives may be overwhelmed, but she's determined to maintain her connection to the faery realm, and she wants her husband to understand why it is so important to her. It was fairies who first befriended her as a child, made her feel wanted and loved for the first time since her parents passed away. But she lost them after she was moved to a different foster home.

Stephon has been growing in power and skill. His sister challenged him to a friendly duel, which he easily won. A very small part of him might have felt vindicated for all the years his parents compared him to Elliana, the golden child, but he'd never admit to it.

Gemma called Francesca excitedly because she discovered Stuart is planning to propose. Damian, Francesca's nephew, aged up into a toddler (top left of the last collage). Not long after, Valentina and Knox had another baby, a little girl named Micaela.

_____________________________

Previous: Part 16: "Newlyweds" 

Next: Part 18: "Toddlers & Temperance" 

Masterlist 

[honorhearted]

No life at all... Yes, Benjamin was all too aware of this mindset, because he, too, had been of a similar belief while off at Yale. That's why it had been so easy for him to enlist -- that's why his fervor convinced friends like Nathan Hale to join the army, a fact that still haunted him to this day. Surely, Elena wouldn't follow in his fated footsteps?

A chill settled over him at such a thought, and subconsciously he touched his throat, almost as if he could somehow feel the proverbial noose digging into his skin.

Elena's query dragged him back to the present. Thankfully, she answered her own question -- she knew he couldn't discuss the ring -- and grateful, Benjamin nodded. "I'd prefer not to speak their names," he replied. "Or at least, not here...not until I know we're in safer territory. But yes, you already know the members. I made certain to only employ people I trust -- that way, I'll never have to concern myself with betrayal and potential slip-ups."

He fell silent again, listening with mounting disgust as Elena spoke of a man who could surely only be a monster. The revelation that he used Matthew's death as a point of mockery, of triumph, made Benjamin's upper lip curl and he looked away again, intent on tightening his hands into fists, lest he fail to tamp down the seething coil of fury within his stomach.

"Such a man is nothing but a coward," he coolly agreed. "I may not know him -- I may not know of him -- but we can't let him into your life, Lena, and least especially if you'll be seeking out valuable information."

Elena appeared visibly startled. Believing he knew the cause of her shock, Benjamin was quick to reply, "I know it may not be ideal for me to pose as your beau, but fortunately, there is no physical, nor even emotional requirement for such a ruse. All we need to do is ensure our act is believable -- that people never once doubt our supposed love for one another."

That was when the door clicked open. Benjamin opened his mouth to make their excuses, but Elena was already seizing him by the lapels and shoving him out of sight. He staggered, stunned, before righting himself just as she made her presence known. There was another woman there -- someone young and transparently disgruntled -- and then a cold, decidedly slimy voice spoke and Elena visibly stiffened.

The charade went on for a long while -- far more than was comfortable -- and Benjamin didn't truly breathe again until Elena led the couple back out into the party. But even with this triumph, he still felt ill at ease. There'd been a certain menacing quality about this Tyler Smallwood, and he now understood the imperative desperation behind his and Elena's new ruse.

--

By the time Benjamin felt it safe enough to emerge, all the guests had congregated into dancing formations. Alongside the twirling couples, a small orchestra played Arcangelo Corelli's "Concerti Grossi, Op. 6" with passionate verve, and folding his hands behind his back, he carefully strode along the edge of the perimeter.

It wasn't long before he found Elena. She was entrapped in her promised dance, weaving in and out of the double lines with a deadened look akin to a painted doll. She seemed helpless, ensnared, and despite his own aversion to dancing, Benjamin knew he had to intervene.

Straightening his shoulders, he strode forward and intercepted. Tyler nearly collided into him, and clear indignation rose up within his sharp eyes.

"Pardon me," Benjamin coolly said, "but I believe Miss Gilbert promised me a dance before I depart." Looking to Elena, he offered a bow of his head. "Unless I'm mistaken?"

Without awaiting Tyler's permission -- not that he needed it -- Benjamin took Elena's hand and spirited her off toward the end of the line, intent on being as far away from prying ears as possible. "Are you all right?" he asked, circling her before doing a small hop-step. "You left in a hurry, but I didn't find it prudent to follow..."

With another hop-step, Benjamin circled back around to face her. "Although you may not feel like it, it would be wise to laugh -- pretend I said something amusing -- and then lean toward me as though we're enthralled with one another. No one will presently believe we're interested if you keep peering up at me like a frightened, wounded fowl."

clouds drift passed the moon briefly, their shadows filtering the light into a strange dance of light and shadow across the terrace. as if a mirror of the mix of emotions present in the night. as if they too were scolding her. gaze fixes upon ben as he moves closer, regarding him as he speaks and disliking his tone. it's not the first time he has called her out about something but this time so much more hangs in the balance. "i know that but--" she frowns, half tempted to look away in response to his words. she knows he's right. that she has no idea what she's doing. how she'd find an ally in the midst of the enemy. she'd held no friends upon her side as of yet and how would she even attempt to speak on her desires if to utter such could be her damnation? he's right and it only serves to frustrate her more, a refusal to look away upon her. she must hold her ground if she is to get what she wants. she must show that she is serious. that while he may be right, it is merely another fact in favor that he should be the one to help her in such an endeavor. "i-- maybe it is my passions but to live as i am is not to live at all. i can not stand by and do noth--"

elena cuts herself off when he speaks again, light hues narrowing in confusion. she plays his words within her mind once more, lips parting. ring of intelligence. oh, oh! was he not just an officer then? was this already a path he had began in this war, espionage? suddenly his presence there that night and his use of an alias made much more sense as pieces fell into place in her mind. how queer that of all the people to show up in the same place as her, it was him. the boy she'd grown up with that now appeared some kind of master of intelligence. god, it had been a long time since the days of peace they'd once known. perhaps this war had changed something irrevocable in them all. "there are others then. in this ring of yours.. friends? people from home?" people she knows? somehow it strikes a greater fear within her, the notion that she could lose even more people even if she hadn't seen them in some time. "i know you can't tell me. not right now." she shakes her head, still reeling from this information.

"i promise ben, i know i seem rash but i would not put others in danger. i can wait, i can be smart about this." she could plan, she could plot when she had to. perhaps it was vastly a different thing but he had also not seen her in the lions den of a social setting. she knew how to get information when she needed it or how to spread information if only to aid her in navigating the scene she was now in. in preventing caroline from turning everyone against her. she had soared among the vipers who surrounded her, gaining their trust despite the whispers of her late parents allegiance. and she was positive that could be used. "i just-- i need to be able to do something. surely you understand that."

something changes in her eyes suddenly, the fire drifting into perhaps regret as she looks away upon his question. perhaps she shouldn't have told him about smallwood. not when there was nothing he could do about it. not when there was little either of them could do about it. "he is quick to drink and his temper is-- i think perhaps if the other man was not scared of him captain smallwood would have been court-martialed for nearly beating his own solider to death." how she knows about it, she doesn't reveal. but she always had been good at finding out things. "my uncle will not believe a word against him. not as things stand. but i've seen what he's.. there is a girl, a daughter of an officer who degrades herself with him." there is disgust in her tone. "i've seen the marks on her from him. he will never marry her if he thinks he can secure me. and why she continues to fawn over him while he confronts me at every opportunity.. but ben he is vile. the way he took pleasure in telling me about matthew.. how he brings it up whenever he can--" she cuts herself off upon his words, breath catching in her lungs.

"wh--what are you talking about? a suitor. oh..." she knows he does not mean in a true sense, not when he speaks of alias' yet her features still begin to turn rosy upon the notion. but perhaps this is the very thing which could save her, at least for a while. perhaps long enough for smallwood to believe she can not be his. long enough for him to settle for caroline. perhaps such a thought makes her vile herself, to seek to subject even her enemy to such a man for the rest of her life but caroline has shown her nothing but contempt at very turn and caroline had made her bed the moment she'd become involved with the captain. if elena had to face the consequences of her actions so did caroline. "my aunt would respond well to a man of wealth." she decides with a sigh of relief. as if for the first time in a long while at least one of her fears had been taken from her. "my uncle favors the captain but i believe he would come around too. i know it will not be real yet i think we both are perhaps good at playing roles required of us. and we are friends. it should not be so hard." were they both not just playing roles within the long forgotten party? "if you are truly willing to do this there is no way i could prepay it other than my gratitude and my offer of help to the cause. you would be saving me in more ways than one."

his next words wash over her and her eyes widen in shock further. "his excellency? you work directly with general washington?" lord in heaven. was ben being there this night and them being 'introduced' true happenstance or some force providing her with exactly what she needed? it was a strange yet adventitious coincidence. "tha--" she cuts off abruptly when she hears the door begin to move in the study, breath ceasing as panic flashes across her features. she can hear the soft voices of a man and a woman and frowns deeply when she recognizes them. how foul do two people have to be when there was a party happening outside that door? elena acts without thought, on instinct, grabbing at ben's coat and turning them, giving him a light shove so that he was out of sight just next to her even though she wasn't. no, he was shielded by the the small part of the terrace that was behind the room's wall as she presents herself like some kind of flustered prize along the edge of the door frame.

the captain moves into the room with caroline at his side before elena allows a shocked gasp to escape her drawing their attention. "i'm sorry captain smallwood, i came out here for air." she sees the way his glassy eyes fall upon her even in the dark, caroline completely forgotten as his eyes linger. it makes her squirm uncomfortably, a slight shake to her that she brings her hands behind her to hide. she doesn't look at ben though she's hyper aware he's next to her. everything could fall apart before it's begun if someone, especially tyler or caroline sees them together alone like this.

'ms. gilbert. you should not be venturing off alone. anyone could come upon you with dark intensions.' there is something in the way he says it, as if she's suddenly prey, which sends a chill through her.

"then it is good you and ms. forbes happened upon me for i am no longer alone." nevermind the fact that they had come into the room alone and how improper such was. her voice remains steady, determined.

'ah yes. ms. forbes, i believe you would do well to find your father. i believe he was looking for you. i can escort ms. gilbert back into the party.' caroline looks about ready to argue, shooting daggers at elena before tyler offers caroline a look as if telling her she is not to say anything about this. after all, she could not without admitting she was with tyler alone to begin with. caroline exits and elena's frown deepens when she sees smallwood close the door behind her instead of leaving it open so that they might both leave. she offers a careful and uneasy glance toward ben that she hopes keeps him in place, before moving into the room. she can not let the captain come out on the terrace.

she meets smallwood near the door and he crowds her almost immediately, standing so close that she can smell his breath. he does not appear fully taken by the drink but he clearly has consumed more than necessary. "shall we go back into the party captain smallwood? i believe i owe you a dance." she reaches out for the door, the words burning her as they come out, as if even the notion of it makes her want to be sick. however, he grips her wrist instead with enough force to make her hiss audibly from the pain of it, pulling it away from the door so that he can turn her toward him.

to her credit, she does not shake or look away from him, holding her ground and refusing to give him any indication of the unease she's feeling. 'perhaps we can stay awhile.' no. no they can certainly not stay awhile and to what purpose she doesn't know. he wasn't thinking straight, either that or he suddenly believed she had magically turned into caroline. "tyler--" she tries his name, drawing his attention to her face as she regards him as a friend he certainly is not. "my uncle should be looking for me by now. you wouldn't want my uncle to find us in here." she plays at his own fears, she thinks. she knows tyler seeks to endear himself to the general. finding him alone with her in the study would certainly not do such. he seems to regard her for a moment, thinking on something before finally letting her wrist fall back to her side.

'perhaps you are right, elena. after all, it is not as if we will not see each other often.' he states using her name and it makes her want to claw his eyes out even as she offers him a sweet smile. he opens the door then, looking out before he leads her out. no, he certainly didn't want people seeing her alone with him and it getting back to maxwell. she lets out a breath once she's among people again, tyler leading her toward music, reality washing back over her as if she's been plunged into cold water. and she offers a glance back at the closed door with another fear, her unsure if ben will seek to find her again during the party-- which she hoped he would for she was not sure how long she could stand to be around tyler without seeking to stab him with something-- or if he was to remain in york city for some time and seek to call upon her as a suitor the next day or.. well, she doesn't know, they hadn't gotten that far in their talk because of captain smallwood. one thing was for sure, elena did not like the lack of control over the situation she felt. she did not like so many things being influx and up in the air.

[the-cooler-king]

I'm thinking about this fic lately.... it was blue exorcist. It's this epic masterpiece spanning like three different fics, with the basic plot that Yukio went crazy after Fujimoto died and it's an alternative situation to the anime. It made me quite literally depressed and genuinely made me want to kms but let me tell you it was fucking good. There were so many layers. I felt disgusted and it pained me to read this fic most days, it was like poison, but it was incredible. I think about it all the time but I dont have the strength to try and read it again (I never finished it the first time because I was just too weak)

[mathemayjicks]

Been slowly watching Gangsta with a friend. It is, well, edgy for the sake of edginess sometimes and has some questionable things. But most of the time the three protags are all very charming! I’m looking forward to Alex getting more of the spotlight. And also to Worick and Nico hugging. cmon, they have to. (i forgot one of the straps of woricks eyepatch, oops)

[dejwritesarchived]

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ⠀ ⠀⠀ explicit ⠀ 〳 ⠀ gangsta ‵

❪ ♡ ❫ ─── ( synopsis ) explicit headcanons for the gangsta men. ft worick, nicolas, delico, & marco

♡ ˙ ˖ ✧ — reader discretion is advised: female reader, female anatomy, canon verse, headcanon format, oral (m.receiving), worick calls you princess, submissive!delico, missionary position, enemies to lovers trope, soft smut, choking kink, marking kink, reader is mr monroe's daughter in delico's part (adopted, blood, stepdaughter, whatever floats your rootbeer float), breeding kink, spanking

NICOLAS BROWN

― 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈𝐄𝐒

YOU AND NICOLAS NEVER GOT ALONG. You were positive he hated your guts as soon as you joined Worick, himself, and Alex. You weren't sure why he disliked you, but you gave him as much heat back. You weren't a punk, so you weren't going to let some Twilight boss you around. Especially one whose ranking only became so high because he overuses cerebret. And Nicolas knew you hated him just as much caused of the way you rolled your eyes as soon as you saw him in the room. He even would let a profanity word or two when you would come into the room. The one thing that Worick did notice was that you two actually worked pretty well together when you put your mind to it. Both you and Nicolas could argue all morning, but when it was time to get shit done—Worick could only choose you to be sure Nicolas is good.

Only cause within two enemies who hate each other so much—deep down it's some form of romantic tension between the two. Every night, as you tiptoe into Nicolas's room, proved this. You've lost count on the number of times, you'll cover the bite marks and hickeys that decored your delicate skin simply because Nicolas got off at the sight of you panicking to cover them.

Every night where you two argued through harsh sign language ended with you croaking out Nicolas's name as if he could even hear you. He was really good at reading your body language and your facial expressions to know that he was fuckin' you just right. With your face buried into his pillow and your back arched perfectly, Nicolas had you completely trapped from running from his harsh thrusts. Every time your hand went back from interrupting his actions of pleasing you, his large hands would come down to slap you on your ass cheeks gaining a yelp from you.

Although the flesh on your butt stung with each spanking, you grew wetter for Nicolas's cock to brush against your tight walls effortlessly. You could feel your essence staining the inside of your thighs and your thighs were beginning to quiver before Nicolas bottomed down inside you fully.

The Twilight just enjoyed fucking the hate for him out of you.

WORICK ARCANGELO

― 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍

DATING ONE OF 'THE HANDYMEN' OF ERGASTULUM WAS NEVER EASY. Especially when dating the blonde-haired, blue-eyed, eye patch-wearing Worick Arcangelo. It consisted of waking up in the morning and finding him and Nicolas in your living room sleep because after their dangerous task you didn't have the energy to question, they'll crash at your place because it was closer (and you cooked some pretty good pancakes according to what was signed to you by Nicolas). Or it was the seething feeling of jealousy because of the women from his past occupation. Obviously, it also consisted of the poor attempt to scrub blood out of Worick's shirt, you insisting you burn it—but it's his favorite shirt. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you could tell the relationship was taking a toll on both of you.

You knew Worick did his all to be sure to keep you out of the deadly things he and Nicolas usually have themselves tangled in. However, that didn't stop him from bringing it to your doorstep after a long day of tasks. His body was completely exhausted. His fingertips were stained with the scent of gunpowder and bullets. And you hated to want to admit that he actually looked even more attractive in this state.

It was always the same routine when he came over after a long day. If he had the energy, he'll eat what you cooked for dinner. If not he's tugging off his dirty clothes to take a shower immediately and crashing right in the middle of your bed. But tonight was a bit different as you could tell how stressed he was.

You took it upon yourself to get on your knees and smother Worick's cock with kitten licks until his hips are jerking forward urging you to finally put it in your wet mouth. When he felt the wetness of your mouth, you could hear him let out an exhausted sigh of relief. His head instantly falls back to meet with the back of your cream-colored sofa. His hands found comfort on the back of your head to help guide your soaked licks and sucks upon his thick cock.

Occasionally you're perking yourself forward just to shove Worick down your throat some more. With pornographic gags bouncing off your living room walls, you could only take it due to Worick's hand being pressed on the back of your hip. His hips bucking forward just so his swollen tip could brush against the back of your throat.

"There we go princess, take it all in your mouth." Worick praised you while being your personal hairstylist with the way he was holding your hair.

MARCO ADRIANO

― 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋

MARCO'S JOB HAS ALWAYS BEEN DANGEROUS. No matter what, you found yourself sitting up late praying that he returns in one piece. You've lost count of how many bloody shirts you tossed or ice packs you've placed upon his ribcage—and you hated to admit that you were slowly growing tired of it. You weren't sure if you could handle the emotions of one day Marco not returning home to you. You feared that one day Loretta and Galahad would come knocking on your door with a look of sorrow.

But one night when Marco came home, you didn't want to worry that something was up with him. You couldn't particularly put your finger on it, but you knew that something was on his mind. He looked pretty banged up with small cuts on his arms and a bruise on his cheek, but you could have chalked that up as a typical shift with the Cristiano family.

He didn't say much, he just let his lips crash upon yours and his arms bring you closer. With each nibble on your lower lip and his tongue tasting the wine you sipped on during the night, a piece of clothing was removed from both of your bodies. Seconds turned into minutes before the both of you are intertwined with each other naked in bed. Delico toned statured cowering over your body while his hips rocked forward with his cock inside of you. The intense feeling of your pussy clutching around Marco only allowed him to let out a string of groans. His grip on your body trapping you from running from his thrusts tightened and he had a goal to be sure you felt every thrust he put his all in.

By the way, your kiss swollen lips were parted apart to whine out his name, Marco could tell he was doing just that. He didn't want to admit to you that he had a close call during a task for Loretta. A bullet was perhaps three inches away from his life being taken away, so tonight he dedicated the evening to making sure his soul was intertwined with yours. The mere thought of you leaving behind on this planet caused his heart to feel happy, so he couldn't help but fuck you a little more passionate tonight. His kisses on your heated skin were so soft that if he kissed hard enough, he would break you.

And when it was time for the two of you to be tugged off the passionate toe-curling cloud of cumming, Marco didn't bother to pull out. His thrusting turned a little sloppy and slow and his cute whines echoed in your ear.

"I love you Y/N."

DELICO

― 𝐌𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐄❜𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑

THE MOON SHINED THROUGH THE SHEER WHITE CURTAINS, COMPLETELY ILLUMINATING YOUR SWEAT-COATED SKIN. Your hips rocked back aggressively and your mouth gasped open to let out soft whimpers that combated with the sound of your headboard clashing against your nude-colored walls. Delico's fingers bruised the soft flesh upon your waist as his heterochromia eyes stared up at you in a complete trance. Completely pussy drunk for the woman above him whose pussy was clutching around him like a perfectly fit glove.

He was D-ranked Twilight who has done so many bad things within his time of being a bodyguard for a man like Mr. Monroe, but the actions he was committing tonight were just as bad. But, it felt so right. His head sank further into the pillow under his head, his white strands of hair stuck to his forehead due to the sweat. It took him by shock when he felt your hand grasp his neck. Although the grasp didn't hurt him—he still felt his body heat up by the action. Completely turned on at the sight of the way your head fell back in complete bliss while stuttering out his name.

Through coherent groans, Delico's attempt to praise how beautiful you look was interrupted by the tumultuous knocks on your room door. Your hand covered Delico's mouth to muffle any hush words that were about to tumble off his lips, you could hear your father's words behind the closed door. "I know you're still upset at me, but it's for your protection. Just please let me come in t—" Mr. Monroe's words were interrupted by you.

"I'm fine, completely over the situation father. We can discuss this in the morning." You hissed out feeling Delico's hold on your waist tighten before he's rolling your hips.

Your breath hitched in your throat while attempting to form a proper sentence. The sound of your room door knob began to jiggle aggressively, despite being fully grown—your father still thought it was okay to barge in your room. The drastic feeling of Delico's cock twitching inside you felt like your orgasm was clawing you to the edge. You wanted to moan out his name so badly, but you couldn't know how much trouble that would put both of you in. Mostly the D-ranked Twilight that was below your bare body at the moment, but you couldn't tarnish that perfect image your father had of you.

"We can talk about this tomorrow! I'm—uh handling something right now." You said through soft moans, hips still rolling like a cat in heat.

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[thiswaycomessomethingwicked]

Have some more bits from The Magi. Or, Ficino rambles for five pages in a letter and Cavalcanti is trying to keep him from dying.

~~~

Marsilio Ficino to his most unique friend Giovanni Cavalcanti: Greetings

Father died in March and I cannot help but I feel I owe him a book. I have dedicated many to you, my dearest Vannino, my Hero (I thank God daily that in his wisdom he made us for one another). Others I have dedicated to Lorenzo the younger, out of love for him, naturally, but also out of the love I bore and bear for his grandfather. Others and others, I’ll not list everyone. Kings! Popes! Wisest of friends!

Get to the point, Marsilio, I hear you say.

In my mind’s eye you are in our secret oak grove. The one with the tree that has twisted itself into a knot which we’ve named Diana after the great huntress. Sometimes, I call the tree Venus, for what I assume must be obvious reasons. But! my Vannino is in his pretty blue set—the one with the silver buttons on the doublet which has collar and cuffs pricked out with leaves of gold. Your Court Suit, as you call it. You’re looking remarkably handsome and seated on a heavy brocade blanket reading Ovid. Maybe Virgil. You have both with you—there, I’ve resolved it.

Above you a spotless sky, the sun shining brighter than Orpheus’ genius or Plato’s light. (Tell neither I said so.) Your hair has gone that pretty autumnal auburn it becomes when you are much on horseback or walking the hills with your Marsilio. At your hand a cup of wine. Something leathery and dark that Dante would have had. Maybe it is a varietal he might have shared with your ancestor Guido.

You are thus, in my mind, and I am telling you all this and you say: Marsilio, Marsilio, you’ve come away again from your point.

What is my point?

Nothing so grand as to warrant this letter but as you are in Florence and I am in Celle, where I have been since April, I must write it all down. I’m driving my father’s hounds mad, I make them come with me when I walk the hills and I’ve been doing a good amount of walking.

I suppose, the hounds are mine, since my father left me the majority of his estate, large, hairy Bruno and Orpho included. My brothers have written me about the issue of the houses and how they feel a little done-over by our father. It will come to more legal trouble. Arcangelo is so swift to jump into the lap of a lawyer he hardly waits for me to reply to say: very well, take this place or that. I wish to keep our father’s property at Celle. My place near Careggi, thankfully, was made over formally to me many years back. Arcangelo and Danielo can argue and feud over the place in the city and that one that is down in Gaville. My father’s ill thought-out olive venture which ate into half the estate. I’m still clearing the ledger of his life, so to speak. My mother frets. She came in only an hour ago to say to me, ‘Marsilio, if Angelo is to have the house in Florence I could not abide to live there for I cannot be under the same roof as his wife Julia.’

‘You are free to stay here or at Careggi. Wherever you would most be comfortable,’ I replied.

‘But I would be most comfortable in the city.’

‘No matter, I will let a house there.’

‘Your father left you our home.’

‘Father didn’t want to bother to properly divvy up his property fairly so left it all to me as the easiest thing to do, therefore it is fair that I divide it amongst my brothers.’

Alright, I didn’t say out loud that last line. I simply said that I sympathise with my brothers—how must it look to them? The one son who has no wife, children, nor dependents gets everything. It would grate the most patient and kind-hearted of men.

Marsilio Ficino, you cry, Get to the point! I’ve no time for your dithering.

(I know my actual Vannino would not be so harsh. He would be kind. But, I know you have some frustrations with my foibles, thankfully patience for them as well.)

My point.

Plague is here. We are all miserably aware of this. I mean to write a treatise on how to protect oneself from it and how to take care should one become so afflicted. I will dedicate it to my father Diotifeci and hope that he finds pleasure in it and looks on it, with his spirit’s eye, fondly.

Perhaps it is for the best that he died when he did. He would have died of worry, otherwise, because of the fall out from the cruel, pointless foolishness of those who I hoped would, at the last gasp, see sense. Perhaps that was foolish of me.

This leads me to my second point: If you think it wise, please send my love to Lorenzo. Tell him his brother is in my prayers every day. Also, that Giuliano’s untimely death should not be carried as a loadstone in his chest. I know what it is to lose someone senselessly and without warning. Lorenzo should look to the future of our beloved Republic and act in her best interest—that is the best and finest way to honour Giuliano’s memory. (Add that it would also spite the Medici opponents and rivals, if you think it would be received as a gentle jest from Lorenzo.)

Live justly, openly, honestly, and with Christian forgiveness.

However, if you think it unwise to pass on my love to him, say nothing. Or, at least, say very little on my behalf.

Between you and I, Lorenzo is killing us all because of love. Senseless! Senseless!

La—now, I’ve gone and written something you must burn. Just as well I end here, my mother has come to say that there is a man here asking to see me. That he wishes to discuss both my father and Hermes. Most strange. But, I must away.

My love for you never diminishes, you are my soul’s other half and I yours. Write me when you are able. Give my love to Poliziano and Landino, should you see them. And your brother Lenzo, of course.

Come to me in Celle, my Vannino. I miss you more than a starving man misses bread.

San Leo a Celle, October 1478

Addendum: The man was not a friend of my father’s, as I had presumed. He wished to discuss Hermes and Picatrix. I may need to return to Florence, briefly, to collect my copy as I do not have him with me here and I wish to check a few points.

~~~~~~~~~

Giovanni Cavalcanti to his Marsilio Ficino: Greetings

Marsilio, if you come within ten miles of Florence I will have heart failure. You will, by that act alone, be the death of your Vannino and neither of us wish for that. Tell me where you’ve hidden your little, illicit magic book and I will send it to you. Or, perhaps, bring it to you myself should my business here wrap up swiftly.

On no account, Marsilio Ficino, are you to come here.

My brother saw Lorenzo just last evening and Lorenzo said to him: How is our little Platonist?

Well, I’ve heard. Handling his father’s estate out near Figline.

I suppose I will have to resolve that issue.

When I saw him three days back he asked: Tell me again how it was that our Marsilio should be out of the city when the Pazzi so heinously murdered my brother? Know you an answer to that riddle, Giovanni?

I just smiled. Which is always my answer when Lorenzo stares at me and asks me difficult questions.

God help me, Marsilio, the things I will do for you.

Florence, October 1478

NB: I found your Picatrix stashed in a secret place with little intimacies I’ve sent you. You fly close to the sun, my Icarus. Please remember the lesson we are to take away from that!