#bellezza green
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divulgatoriseriali · 2 years ago
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Sapone e shampoo solido sono la stessa cosa? Scopriamo le differenze
Ti mai chiestæ se il sapone e lo shampoo solido siano effettivamente la stessa cosa? Sei curioso di sapere se vengono prodotti con lo stesso procedimento o se la differenza di prezzo è solo una strategia di marketing? Se la risposta è sì, sei nel posto giusto. In questo articolo esploreremo in dettaglio le differenze tra il sapone e lo shampoo solido, cercando di fornirti una risposta esauriente…
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22rebelle · 3 months ago
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illeonesognatore · 8 months ago
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Fai parte del mondo; esplora; guardati attorno; ammira e insieme respira lentamente; chiudi gli occhi; sorridi; gioisci... tutto questo ti è stato donato senza che tu lo chiedessi; ringrazia... ora puoi riaprire gli occhi; ricomincia❤️
~ Il Leone Sognatore 🦁✨
🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱🌱
You are part of the world; explore; look around; admire and together breathe slowly; close your eyes; smile; rejoice... all this was given to you without you asking; say thank you... now you can open your eyes again; start again❤️
~ The Dreaming Lion 🦁✨
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mirobraz · 1 year ago
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Eva Green referencing Venus de Milo in Bernardo Bertolucci's "The Dreamers" (2003).
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drmaddict · 1 year ago
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Pet dates
Summary: When Theo took a cat into his dormitory one evening, he didn't expect to wake up next to a girl the next morning. (Y/n), who was walking around the school in her Animagus form, didn't really expect to be used as a teddy bear that night either.
Wordcount: 3.748
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I taped quietly through the nightly corridors of Hogwarts. As an Animagus, I enjoyed the freedom of not being noticed. Another cat in the corridors. Who would even waste a glance? I was enjoying the darkness of the night with my adjusted eyes when I saw three figures. They came closer quietly.
"Shh!", one of them hissed.
"Hey, you had to sneak into the library, didn't you?", hissed the next one.
I recognized Draco Malfoy first. His light-colored hair was immediately noticeable. Then Mattheo Riddle and Theodore Nott.
Draco and Mattheo walked past me, but Theodore stopped.
"Hello there.", he whispered and held out his hand to me. "Come here piccola bellezza."
"Dude, leave the cat alone and come here.", Draco hissed.
Theo ignored him and stroked my head with his fingertips. Out of instinct, I began to purr.
To be honest, I don't get touched very often. Neither as a cat, nor as a human. Theodore smiled. "Have you been locked out?" He stroked my back with just the right amount of pressure. "It's far too cold out here. Come on. It's warm in our dorm."
Still completely caught up in the pleasure of his touch, I reacted too late. I found myself pressed against his chest. Most girls would kill for this opportunity. Maybe I would too, but somehow you imagine this in a different context.
Theodore caught up with the other two.
Draco just rolled his eyes, but Mattheo looked at me closely. A grin stretched across his face as he looked me straight in the eye, as if he knew exactly who I was. "Interesting.", he whispered.
"What?", Theodore asked, confused.
Mattheo bent down to my eye level. "Come on then, little mouse.", he grinned.
I wriggled against the iron grip around me. "Stop that! You're making her nervous.", Theodore grumbled.
"Guys, can we please go now?" growled Draco, annoyed. The three of them started moving again.
"What is it with you and cats anyway?" Draco asked into the silence.
"They're cats.", Theodore replied, as if that explained everything.
When the three of them arrived in their common room, Theodore sat me down on his bed. Blaise Zabini was lying on the opposite one, leafing through a book. He raised a well-formed eyebrow.
"Weren't you going to get a book?"
"Shut up.", grumbled Theodore.
"Theo just picked up a little girlfriend on the way.", grinned Riddle. "That's nothing new."
I gave him a dirty glare. Somehow the bastard knew exactly, who I was.
I jumped off the bed and went to the door. I scratched at it and meowed angrily, but Theodore just grabbed me again and sat me on the bed.
"It's all right. Nothing will happen to you here."
I exhaled in annoyance. Riddle reached for me with one hand, grinning, but I immediately slapped his hand away.
"Ow!" he hissed and stuck his bleeding finger in his mouth. "You little-"
I instinctively stood up to my full height and hissed at him.
Theodore pushed him away from me.
"She scratched me!", Riddle hissed.
"You scared her." grumbled Theodore.
Turning to his bed, he pulled his shirt over his head and let his pants slide to the floor.
I quickly turned to the wall and looked at the green fabric of the four-poster bed. The world was unfair. The guy didn't have one bloody flaw.
I heard Riddle snicker. Asshole.
Theodore lay down under the covers. Without a warning, he pulled me against him like I was a teddy bear. He stroked my stomach slowly. I let out a surrendered breath. I didn't even notice that I was falling asleep from the gentle caresses.
The next morning, I woke up to someone stroking my head.
"Morning Bella.", someone whispered.
My brain kick-started. I was in Theodore Nott's bed. He was still holding me. I was - thank God - still a cat.... I hadn't slept this well in a long time.
But I'd never slept as a cat either, so that was probably it.
Theodore stroked my stomach in slow circles. The purring immediately started again. I looked at him. He was smiling gently. I didn't really know him, but he always seemed so cold in the corridors. Very different from now. He closed his eyes and continued to run his fingers through my fur.
I was too rarely really touched not to enjoy this.
I allowed the caress and closed my eyes until Riddle's voice rang out.
Whereupon a scream was heard. Theodore's scream.
I felt my body expand.
I looked into Theodore's horrified face.
I looked around in panic. Riddle laughed. "There are spells that can force an Animagus back into its human form."
I glanced at Theodore again before running off frantically. As soon as I opened the door, I sprinted back through the corridors in cat form.
I felt like throwing up.
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Theo's POV
I was still looking after the girl in shock.
We had potions together. I didn't know her name though. Mattheo was still laughing.
"You knew that?", I snapped at him.
He just shrugged and threw himself back into bed. "You seem to have acted with mutual consent."
I threw my alarm clock at him.
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(Y/n)s POV
"Where have you been?", Jenny asked me, as I walked into our common room.
"Nowhere.", I said way too quickly.
"But-"
"Nowhere!", I babbled frantically and immediately locked myself in the bathroom.
Now everyone will know. I ruffled my hair. I had always kept the authorization for the Animagus a secret. It should remain a secret. God, they're all going to shoot their mouths off. The little freak who clings to the school crush par excellence and crawls into his bed without hin knowing.
I forced myself to take a deep breath.
Bloody hell.
I skipped breakfast. As small as I could, I sat down in Potions class and looked at my book.
I heard everyone filling the room, but continued to not look up. I breathed a sigh of relief when Snape finally walked into the room in his usual dramatic fashion.
"You will form groups today."
I looked dully at the blackboard. Was he serious?
He called out the pairs stoically.
"(Y/N) (Y/L/N). Theodore Nott."
Was he fucking serious?
I buried my face in my hands. What had I done? What did I do to deserve this?
I heard a pile of books being dropped on the desk.
I looked up into Theodore Nott's usual cold face. My face felt incredibly hot.
Snape explained the day's task and then sat down at his desk.
Silently, I began sorting the ingredients.
Theodore skimmed over the instructions.
"Can you please not tell anyone?", I whispered.
He didn't respond. I sighed. "I dont want to push you... But that I'm an Animagus... Only I knew that until yesterday."
He grumbled.
"I wanted to leave, but you wouldn't let me.", I grumbled back.
"Because I thought you were a cat.", he hissed.
"Why are you taking some stranger's cat with you anyway?"
He faltered. "None of your business."
I sighed in annoyance and turned up the flame.
"Was it that bad?", he grumbled quietly.
"What?"
"Lying in my bed with me."
I glanced at the kettle. "No." I admitted.
He stirred like the instructions said. "We're good at keeping our mouths shut. So don't worry."
I looked at his cold face. How could he be so different to the boy this morning? That warm and relaxed smile.
"Thank you.", I whispered.
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I sprinted through the corridors as fast as my paws could carry me. That damn Miss Noris had it in for me.
I whizzed around the corner and immediately collided with a pair of legs.
I heard the cat behind me. I stood up and hissed at her.
"Go on. Go away.", said the owner of the legs and gently shooed her away.
Miss Noris gave me another challenging look and then slunk around the corner.
Theodore sighed. He glanced toward me. "(Y/n)?", he asked cautiously.
I nodded.
"Being a cat, you sure do pick fights, don't you?"
I grumbled. I didn't start it.
He smirked. "Don't get caught away."
His hand moved to my head, but stopped in mid-motion. He stretched his fingers once and pulled them back towards him. "See you."
I could feel myself wanting that touch. Even though I couldn't say why, I was far braver as a cat than as a human. So I trotted past him and stroked his legs once. A few steps away, I stopped again and looked at him. A small smile appeared on his face.
He shook his head at me. "We'll keep this between us," he murmured.
I nodded and walked back towards my common room. I tried to ignore the tingling sensation on my head.
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The next day, Theodore suddenly sat down next to me in Potions. I looked irritatedly from him to his clicke and back again.
"Hi.", he just said and put his books on the table.
"Uhh... Hi.", I faltered.
He looked straight at me and leaned slightly towards me. "If I'm wrong, just forget it and pretend I never said anything.", he started. I nodded hesitantly. In a whisper, he continued. "You seem to like it when people... pet you.", he began.
I nodded. "I think we'd both benefit from seeing each other... meet like this more often.", he mumbled.
I looked at him, confused. "You want... What, petting dates?", I asked.
"Forget it.", he grumbled and tried to get up, but I held him by his sleeve.
"Now wait a minute. I'm just surprised.", I explained. He sat down again. I played with my quill. "I don't think I'd mind, but why don't you just get a cat... Well, if you like them so much."
"I'm not allowed.", he explained curtly.
"Oh."
"Yup."
I prepared my roll of parchment. "When do you want to start?"
I noticed his shoulders relax slightly. Today at seven. Come to the library. I'll sit at the back."
I nodded as Snape came bounding through the door.
I crept through the library, keeping an eye out for Theodore.
Hidden at the very back, he was sitting and flicking through a book, bored.
I jumped onto the table next to him and looked at the manuscript. He flinched slightly, when I landed next to him. "Hi," he whispered. He pointed to his scarf, which he had provisionally draped into a small bed. "Make yourself comfortable."
I lay down hesitantly on the green fabric. I pulled it here and there to make myself comfortable. When I was satisfied and lay down, I noticed Theodore grinning at me and shaking his head slightly. I grumbled slightly. He put his hand on my head and started to run it through my fur. I immediately started purring. He applied the perfect amount of pressure again. I closed my eyes in pleasure and let my limbs grow heavy.
"So we can do this more often?", he asked softly. I nodded and let out a small gasp. I lazily opened one eye. He had rested his head on his hand and was looking relaxed at me. I let myself fall onto my side and continued purring to myself.
We met up more often since then. Sometimes even just like that. Without fur. He had immediately made it clear that he only wanted to be called Theo when I had first spoken to him. Now we were sitting in the three brooms, drinking butterbeer.
"Don't you want to join your friends?" I asked.
He waved me off. "Oh Draco's studying to beat Granger today. Blaise has a date and Mattheo... I don't want to know."
He took a big sip from his glass.
"What do you actually get out of these meetings?" I asked him.
He shrugged his shoulders. "It relaxes me.", he admitted. "Most people just want sex."
I let my fingers scratch his scalp once. His ears turned red. I grinned. "Do you want to swap roles?"
He remained silent. "It wouldn't be a problem.", I mumbled. "Quit pro quo.", I shrugged.
He held on to his glass. "Would you?", he asked, looking stubbornly at the table.
"Sure.", I said, shrugging my shoulders.
He downed the rest of his beer and stood up. He held his hand out to me. "You coming?"
I let him pull me along.
He poked his head into the bedroom and exhaled with relief. Quickly, he pushed me inside. No one was there. He waved his wand and the curtains of his bed were already drawn. We sat down behind the curtains. I leaned back against the headboard and looked at Theo, waiting. He cast a silencing spell on the bed before lying down hesitantly on the pillow. I stroked his thick curls. He exhaled calmly and just let himself be pampered. It was unusual, but... nice.
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Theo's POV
I was already poking around in my food, bored, when Mattheo sat down next to me on the bench.
"Tell me, when do you actually fuck each other?", he grinned.
I looked at him blankly. "Who are you talking about?"
Mattheo shook his head in amusement. "Well, your kitten."
I furrowed my eyebrows in irritation.
"Are you stalking me?"
Mattheo was still shoveling his food onto his plate with amusement. "You forget I know what goes on with people in here." He tapped his own forehead and grinned. "The little one has the hots for you. Even if she doesn't really know it herself yet."
He leaned his head on one hand. "But you're no better."
My hand closed convulsively around my fork. Anger bubbled up inside me. "You swore you'd stay out of our heads."
"I can't always completely suppress it.", Mattheo shrugged. "But you're into each other. In a weird beastly way." He shoved pumpkin paste into his mouth. "Why don't you make some cute little kittens then?"
I spat at him. "If you ever get lost in my head again, I'll make sure you can never grasp even a simple thought of yourself ever again." I stood up jerkily and left the Great Hall.
What was that even supposed to mean (Y/n) fancies me? We were... Friends? Damn we were friends. I liked her. Because we were friends. How by Merlin's fucking beard did that happen?
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(Y/n)s POV
Theo was avoiding me. Had been all week. I didn't know if I'd done anything wrong, but he was avoiding me.
I was walking through the library to check out a potions book when I saw him between one of the back shelves. I stopped with a jolt. He had a girl pressed up against the shelf. He was literally devouring her. As quickly as possible, I turned around and left, but not without catching my bag on the shelf and catapulting a handful of books onto the floor.
They fluttered around until they were put back in their places.
I looked into the expressionless face of Theo and the grinning face of a blonde Ravenclaw girl.
"Sorry.", I babbled and disappeared as quickly as I could.
He could have just said he was seeing someone. Damn it, I really didn't insist that we see each other. After all, he had started the whole thing. I sat down defiantly in the courtyard. That we could become friends? But... Hadn't we become friends somewhere?
I sighed. Maybe I was just imagining it.
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I was trotting through the corridors when I heard him.
"Hey.... Hey wait a minute! Damn it, stop!"
I sprinted on, but somehow Theo caught up with me. He quickly picked me up and hugged me to him. He held my front and back paws in one hand each so that I couldn't scratch him. I wriggled around wildly in his arms.
"No, you're coming with me now.", he scolded.
He carried me into the dungeon to his dormitory and threw me roughly onto his bed. He breathed in and out heavily from the effort of holding me down. I did the same. My ears were pinned back and I glared at him angrily.
"Everyone out!", he ordered without looking at anyone in the room.
They left the dormitory grumbling. I made a dash for the open door, but Theo immediately held me down. "Don't even think about it.", he hissed.
I hissed back. What the fuck was that about?
He didn't want to talk to me anymore.
The door closed. I sat petulantly on the bed.
"Now... Become a fucking human being! I want to talk!"
All of a sudden he wanted to talk. He ignored the fact that I even existed for two weeks and suddenly he wanted to talk.
I turned my back to him and flattened my ears.
"I'm sorry, okay?", he groaned, annoyed.
I didn't move.
He walked around the bed to look at me. He squatted down in front of me.
"I've been thinking," he said angrily. "Damn I'm not used to this friendship crap!"
I continued to sulk.
"Especially not with girls." He sat down on the floor. "It's unusual and scares me." A pout now appeared on his face too. "With girls, I usually only want sex and not... the rest." He got quieter and quieter.
I looked at him in surprise.
He buried his face in his hands. "Could I speak to a human now, please?"
I let myself change into my human form.
"What does that mean exactly?", I asked, looking down at him.
He looked stubbornly at the edge of the bed. "Probably that I want a relationship.", he said, as irritated as if he could hardly believe it himself.
"With me?", I asked, confused.
He looked at me as if I was dumb. "Of course with you! With who else?"
"No idea! Maybe Miss Ravenclaw." I threw my hands up in the air, annoyed.
"Are you jealous?"
"No.", I pouted.
"You're jealous."
"I'm not jealous."
"She's jealous!", Mattheo shouted from the other side of the door.
I growled, annoyed. "How-"
"He can read minds... by nature."
"That damn-"
"Hey! Concentrate!" He pulled my face towards him. His hands were warm on my cheeks. "If you're jealous, it's probably because you don't find the idea so far-fetched."
"Maybe." I mumbled and looked into his blue eyes.
"Possibly.", he nodded. He pushed me onto the bed and himself on top of me. His lips met mine hard. Large hands slid over my body with determination. Overwhelmed, I reached into his hair and tried to keep up with him. It was no secret that he was experienced. You could guess that I wasn't. He let his mouth wander to my neck, held my jaw gently but firmly to get a better grip on my throat and licked over the main artery, which was pulsating fast and furiously. I closed my eyes in pleasure and a soft moan escaped me.
The door pushed open. "Dude I'm not waiting for you to finish here now." Draco Malfoy walked towards his desk. "I have to study.", he clarified. Theo rolled his eyes. I fought my way back to clear thoughts.
"About time.", Zabini said dryly and lay back down on his bed.
Theo reached for his wand and the curtains closed immediately. This was followed by a silencing spell.
He looked me straight in the eye.  "I don't know how relationships work.", he admitted. "But I'm a quick learner."
I smirked. "I wouldn't know either." I closed my eyes in embarrassment. "I don't even know how..."
Theo's hand went back to my jaw. "I'll show you.", he sighed and lunged at my neck again.
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I plucked grumpily at my collar. Theo grinned. I glared at him. He grinned wider.
Makeup with 100% coverage was all over my neck and the dark marks were still visible.
He had casually thrown an arm around me as we walked to Potions together. His mask once again completely the serene Theodore Nott that everyone knew.
His fingers ran over my neck.
"Don't do that," I grumbled.
"You liked it yesterday.", he grinned.
I poked him in the ribs.
"YES!" someone shouted in the corridor. "No Potions today!"
Draco, who was walking ahead of us, stuffed his notes into his pocket, annoyed. "If anyone's looking for me, I'm sleeping in until Monday.", he announced, shuffling down the corridor to the common room. The boy had been studying all night. The dark shadows lay heavy under his eyes.
"Early weekend.", Theo sighed, continuing to stroke circles over my neck.
Less than an hour later, we were sitting in the Slytherin common room. Theo was sitting in one of the wing chairs with his legs up, enjoying the warm fire. With his eyes closed, he stroked my fur lazily. I was curled up on his chest, my head in the crook of his neck, purring happily to myself.
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Bonus Fluff
Draco and Zabini were once again arguing as only the two of them could. Theo was sitting on his bed and I was on his lap.
I curled up and let myself be stroked. My cat instincts were on fire today.
I smelled her on his fingers. This little one from Ravenclaw. They had played Quidditch against each other. Slytherin had won.
She had hugged him and grabbed his hand. Her scent was there. It wouldn't go away.
"What are you doing?", Theo asked suddenly. I licked his hand and couldn't stop. He belonged to me. He didn't have to smell like anyone else. "Hey, don't do that. That tickles." He tried to pull his hand away, but I nibbled on his finger. "Hey no teeth!" He pulled his hand away in a flash. I growled.
Behind me, Mattheo laughed. "Your little flea slinger is jealous. You reek of someone else."
I took advantage of the brief second Theo was inattentive and latched onto his arm. I immediately rubbed my head against his hand. "Are you marking me right now?", he asked incredulously.
I growled again. Yes, I was jealous. So what? I nibbled on his little finger again. He sighed and lifted me to his chest. A mistake. His neck smelled like her too. I immediately licked it. "Hey!" He tried to push me away, but I clawed at his shirt. "Claws! Claws!" he shouted frantically and grabbed my paws. I put my front paws around his neck.
"Okay.", he sighed. "Let off some steam."
I purred and rubbed my head along his chin.
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boysinmaidoutfits · 3 months ago
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I could have you, Couldn’t I?
Part III. (The last one)
Theodore Nott x Reader
Thank you so much for the support, and i hope you guys like the last part of this series! I’ll keep you guys updated with more stories, let me know if you have any suggestions or head canons you’d want me to write. Wishing you all well and love yalll!💚
warnings ‼️: slight smut, mention of drugs and alcohol.
I stepped into the Slytherin house, green lights and smoke covering the whole place, music blasting through the speakers. I had a simple yet sexy costume on, i was wearing a black angel costume, a mini skirt with thighs that reached up to my middle thigh the top decorated with lace, I had a black corset on which hugged my body perfectly. My black high heeled boots clicked against the tile floor as I made my way to the party, my black little wings swaying on my back. Everyone was drunk already, some of them were even doing drugs, smoking weed, making out on the couch or the hallways, it was just how every Slytherin party went down in history. I made my way to the table and mixed up a strong drink i needed something for courage after all.
I made my way to the dance floor and i started swaying my hips, running my hands along my body to the music. I felt hot, guys all over the room staring at me with need and fire in their eyes. A pair of blue eyes pierced through the crowd staring right at me, it got my attention, a dangerously handsome Theodore painted as a skeleton. He was wearing his black suit with a red tie, he looked so sexy I could barely tear my eyes away from him. I felt a pair of hands ghosting on my waist slowly and teasingly sliding down to my hips, Theodore’s hands. “You’re looking breathtaking bellezza” He lets out a low groan as I push my back against him, dancing to the music still. I felt his hot breath against my neck whispering to me, his words poured out like honey “Mi stai rendendo le cose difficili(you’re making it difficult for me)” His italian made my legs tremble, my stomach tied in a knot, a good kind of knot, I turned my head looking into his eyes our faces awfully close to each other. “Making what difficult?” I looked up at him with doe eyes acting dumb, a sly smirk appeared on his face as he spun me around grabbing my chin. I felt his stronge woody cologne mixed with a hint of cigarette fill my nostrils. I never wanted a man so much.”Let me show you bellezza” He leaned down, his fingers dancing down from my chin to my neck grabbing it softly. “Gotta feel you baby, your lips on mine again..” he breathed out, and that’s when I knew he remembered, just as much as I remembered, the feeling of his lips on mine haunting me to this day. “Theodore…” I breathed out, I needed to feel his lips on mine immediately, I couldn’t bear it anymore. “Use your words topolino..(little mouse)” “Kiss me Theo, make a mess out of me, make the air disappear from my lungs” I whispered, my lips inches away from his as my hot breath lingered on his lips. I was driving him crazy, and I knew I only had this effect on him. “Oh you wanna be a mess?” He smirked down at me. “I’ll take care of that..” he grabbed my hand dragging me along the crowded room and leading me to the hallway, the music fading, the green lights and the smoke was still present as the chilly air hit me, but my body was burning, i needed him desperately. He pushed me up against the wall taking one of my legs and pulling it up to his waist. “No running now topolino..” he breathed hot against my lips, his lips brushing against mine in a soft yet aggressive way, he pressed his lips against mine in a teasing and fierce kiss. He groaned against my lips pushing himself against me, I couldn’t get enough of him. I folded my arms around his neck pulling him closer, my fingers found its way to his hair tangling in it. I parted my lips his tongue sliding into my mouth, exploring it demanding to taste every inch of it. I let out a soft moan and to that he let out a soft groan, pulling back slightly.”Fottere..(fuck) you’re driving me mad baby..” he presses a kiss against my lips again, his hands travelling upon my thighs squeezing it. His touch sent shivers down my spine. He pulled back and kissed down my neck, nibbling and biting my skin, leaving marks. He kissed along my jawline and then he attacked my lips again. We were on each other like animals, i was grabbing onto him, my legs found their way around his waist as he grabbed onto my ass supporting my weight. He squeezed every inch of me as he claimed my body with his hands. “Theo..” I breathe out between kisses and he pulls back looking at me “I could have you bella… couldn’t I?” He asked looking at me, his eyes flicking down to my lips and then back up to my eyes again. I groan softly, kissing him pouring all my emotions into the kiss. “I’ll take that as a yes..” he chuckles as he pressed a quick peck on my lips.”As you should..” I breathe out, our foreheads pressed against each other, our eyes not breaking contact even for a second. Our lips both puffy from the make out session we just shared, he smirked down at me looking at my swollen lips and the hickeys he left on my neck as he chuckles darkly.”il mio bel pasticcio..(my beautiful mess)”
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kissingghouls · 1 year ago
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The Prince
Part Four: The Herbalist (ao3 // part one // part two // part three)
Vampire Terzo x F!Reader, Special Guest Star Primo
Summary: You and Terzo hit the road and head for Primo's. It goes about as well as expected. (13000 words [I know. I have a problem] and not beta read because frankly, that's a lot to ask.)
Tags/Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, 18+, horror themes, vampire violence, neck biting, blood, blood drinking, major character injury, hurt/comfort, SMUT, and more tags on ao3
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banner by my dear dear friendo @ramblingoak. Thank you for absolutely everything.
There was nothing around for miles. It was just you and an endless expanse of highway etched into the bright green splatters of forest that only seemed to exist between cities anymore. You’d spent the last several hours speeding past fireworks warehouses and billboards for adult video stores in the absolute middle of nowhere. A cheap pair of sunglasses purchased at a truck stop larger than the high school you’d attended kept the sun out of your eyes. The pair you purchased for Terzo rattled away in the cupholder next to your knee.
Following a short conversation on the nature of werewolves, he had moved into the backseat and passed out. He curled up tight like a cat trying to make itself as small as possible, a cheap blanket pulled over his head to keep the sun off his face. He’d been unusually quiet for most of the drive, so it didn’t surprise you too much when he crawled back there with little more than a mumbled explanation. It wouldn’t have bothered you, but quiet was so out of the ordinary for him you couldn’t help but worry.
The hours of sitting combined with the soft drone of the engine and the otherwise silent drive did nothing to help you stay awake. After what felt like an eternity, you finally found a place with the right combination of populated enough to go unnoticed and shitty enough to be ignored.
Terzo didn’t move at all as you threw the car into park, groaning at the dull ache in your knees. You reached over, tucking the blanket tighter around his shoulders as he shivered.
“Terzo? I’ll be right back, ok?”
When he didn’t respond you forced yourself out of the car. The least you could do was get him to a bed.
You exchanged a few words and some cash with the motel manager, finding another delicate balance between don’t wanna know and paid enough to forget. People in places like these had seen enough already, heard every sad story or fake name anyone could come up with and you didn’t have the time or energy to pretend to explain away the bruises on your face.
With a room secured, you ducked into the truck stop next door to grab supplies. Your skin itched as soon as the car left your field of vision, but you figured it was better to keep Terzo and his blood soaked sweater far from view. You thumbed through a few novelty t-shirts and souvenir hats as you made your way around and loaded up on snacks and water. There was no Michelin star, but the truck stop offered something resembling hot food and you weren’t about to be picky.
Terzo stirred, grumbling softly as you settled back into the car and parked closer to the room you’d been assigned.
“Bellezza?” he asked, his voice weak and slightly hoarse. “Where are we?”
“Uh, not sure exactly. But it’ll do for the next few hours at least. C’mon, sexy,” you chirped as you hopped out, trying to keep the mood light. You tucked the plastic bag under your arm, balancing the snacks and water on your hip as you popped open the door by his head.
He sat up and frowned, wincing as the sun shone brightly behind you. “How far?”
“A few feet, maybe ten? We’re just right there,” you offered, pointing at the door to the room.
“Bellezza, I need you to go open the door.”
You shrugged and turned the keycard over in your hand as you walked toward the door. The lock had barely clicked out of place, its electronic parts grinding through years of overuse to flash that green light when Terzo rushed past, shoulder-checking you at inhuman speed. You followed him in, opening your mouth to complain and letting it snap shut when you realized he was cowering in the corner. Moving as fast as you could, you kicked the door shut and spun around to pull the curtains closed.
“Thank you,” he whispered.
“Terzo, are you—”
“I’m fine, cara,” he insisted, cutting you off too quickly to really be believable. “Just a little weak is all.”
“Do you need anything?”
“Just to rest,” he replied with a light laugh. His knees popped loudly as he stood, the long drive having no mercy for his joints either. He looked around the dusty room, a sly smile spreading across his face. “One bed, eh? You are warming up to me.”
“Are you sure you’re ok?”
He crawled up on the bed with a sigh and shot you his best attempt at a serious look. “I’ll be better when you join me, bellezza.”
You rolled your eyes at his suggestive eyebrow raise and placed the overstuffed plastic bag on the table by the window. After poking around for a moment, you found the shirt you’d grabbed for him inside.
“Take that off,” you said and motioned to your once prized and now disgusting sweater.
He grinned as he whipped the bloody shirt across the room. “Should we discuss a safe word—ah!”
The balled-up t-shirt hit him right between the eyes.
“What is this?” he asked, pouting slightly.
“It’s for you to wear.”
His pout turned into a deep frown as he examined the shirt. “Bellezza…”
“Yes?” you replied innocently.
“This is funny to you?” he asked, pulling the thing over his head.
It was ill-fitting in so many ways, far too short and too baggy for his frame with a stretched-out neckline and sleeves that went to his elbows. But the thing that had made you buy him that shirt was spelled out right there on his chest in huge letters.
Garlic Bread Slut.
You bit your lip and turned away from him. “Nope. Not funny at all.”
His arms slid around your waist as he pressed himself against your back and leaned in close to your ear. “Oh, I think you like it.”
“I think you have a really odd way of resting,” you countered as you dug through the bag for your food. “You should lay down.”
“Such a tease,” he chided as he released you, but kept his chin on your shoulder. “What in Satan’s name is that?”
You shrugged and tossed the container’s plastic lid onto the table. “I think its spaghetti?”
“No, bellezza. That is an abomination. Please tell me you’re not going to eat that.”
“What? You don’t wanna share?”
He grumbled as he moved away from you to settle on the bed. You climbed up on the other side, folding your legs under yourself as you poked at your subpar mystery pasta. Terzo curled up next to you, his eyes heavy as he watched you chewing slowly. With a soft smile, you turned and handed him the remote.
“What’s this for?”
“You should find one of your movies so you can sleep,” you suggested.
“But…you hate those.”
“Yeah, but you don’t,” you replied as you reached over him to grab a serving of disturbingly cold garlic bread. “Hey, does garlic—”
“No,” he said quickly and stole a bite from your bread. “Oh, that’s awful.”
“Serves you right, you little shit,” you teased with a laugh.
He frowned deeply as he chewed, clearly regretting his decision. He flipped through a few channels to distract himself, occasionally making a disgusted face and sticking his tongue out much like a child would. He managed to find a cable version of some romcom you vaguely remembered, something with lead actors the general population would’ve known instantly. He could probably recite their entire filmographies, but you were stuck squinting at the male actor wondering if his hair had always looked like that.
Around twenty minutes passed, most of them filled with noisy commercials instead of the movie Terzo was trying to watch. It didn’t matter anyway—he could barely keep his eyes open longer than a couple of minutes. Again he mumbled through the excuse that he was just tired, waving you off when you asked.
If he was going to insist that he was fine, you could go on about your business as well. You slipped off the bed and circled back to the bag still laying on the table.
“Where are you going?” he asked, tiredly raising his head the same way a sleepy puppy would.
“To brush my teeth.” You dug the new toothbrush and a tube of toothpaste from the bag, waving it around as proof.
“Ah, garlic.”
“Got you one too,” you added with a wink and dropped the brush with the purple handle on his chest as you walked by.
He clutched the packaging like a bridesmaid who just caught the bouquet, sighing dramatically. “Bellezza, I didn’t know you cared!”
“What, about your breath?” you teased. “If I don’t take care of the garlic bread slut, who will?”
He pushed himself up with a grunt. “Cara mia, I’ll take care of you. Twice.”
“Not if you don’t brush your teeth,” you quipped, scrunching your nose at him. You set about brushing your own teeth, watching him drag himself from the bed in the mirror’s reflection. You shot him a little smile before returning to your task and daydreaming about all the sleep you were about to get.
There was a thud behind you, loud and heavy enough to be heard over your efforts. You glanced up at the mirror and realized it was the sound of his body hitting the floor.
You screamed his name and tossed your toothbrush into the sink before rushing over to him. Pulling his head into your lap, you began frantically patting at his face. “C’mon, wake up Terzo,” you begged, tears stinging your eyes. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck. No, no, no. Please. Terzo, I don’t know how to help you.”
His eyes fluttered open, unfocused as he looked up at you. He grabbed ahold of your wrist to keep your hand pressed to his face. “What happened?”
“I don’t know. You just—” You stopped short as you gazed down at him. His face was gaunt, the hollows deepening to gather more shadow as you watched helplessly. In the few seconds since you’d left him his skin dulled, turning a lifeless greenish gray under your fingertips. “No, no, no—”
His grip tightened around your wrist. “Bellezza, I need—”
“Yeah, ok.” You nodded quickly and thrust your other wrist in front of his face.
He pushed your hands away and scrambled to his feet, nearly tripping over them in his haste. He shook his head, taking several steps backward until he was pressed against the door. “No,” was all he said, his tone firm. “I won’t. Not you.”
“Terzo, I’m not sure we have any other options here—”
“You don’t understand what you’re offering,” he growled, his white eye glowing as he fixed you with a serious look.
“Oh, so you can steal my garlic bread, but you’re too good for my blood?”
“Ragazza sciocca, it’s not that simple!” he shouted.
“Don’t fucking yell at me for trying to help you!” you shouted back.
“You can’t help me. You need to leave.”
“Are you fucking kidding? Terzo, there are still people after us. I’m not going to leave you here like this.”
“I will be fine,” he grunted as he threw himself back on the bed, sinking into the pillows.
“Terzo, stop. You can barely move; you can’t even go outside—”
“I will wait until dark then—” he snapped at you.
“And do what?” you yelled helplessly. “Crawl across the parking lot and hope someone gets close enough? You can’t even walk now; how bad will it be at nightfall? Just get it over with. I’ll be fine.”
He started to laugh, grimacing through the pain. “You really don’t know anything about vampires, do you?”
“That’s not fucking fair—”
He leaned up on his hands and knees, moving toward you slowly. “Bellezza, if you let me do this…” he started softly, averting his eyes to a spot on the carpet. “If I take from you, it will mark you for the rest of your life. Do you understand that? Do you know what that means?”
You shook your head.
He sat back and reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “You and I…there would be…it would mark you as mine, cara.”
“What, like property?” you scoffed.
“No, it’s not as barbaric as that. It’s…there is a bond created—"
“So, everyone you snack on is just yours?”
He shook his head. “That’s different.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re different, bellezza.”
You didn’t completely understand what he’d meant, but it hit you like a punch to the gut just the same. You dropped onto the bed, trying and failing to decipher what the fuck he was trying to tell you. “Terzo, I don’t…”
“No one else could touch you,” he added softly, picking at the scratchy duvet. “Which could be good or bad, honestly. But it’s not a thing that can be undone. We would be…tied together for the rest of your natural life. I can’t…I couldn’t force that on you.”
“You’re not forcing anything on me. And anyway, it doesn’t have to be all that. I’m just trying to keep you alive—”
“You’re not listening—”
“Of course I am! There’s some magical force you can’t explain that’s gonna tether me and you if you bite me. Do you realize how fucking ridiculous you sound?”
He narrowed his eyes at you. “You’re arguing with a vampire but go ahead and tell me how ridiculous this all is. You know nothing, bellezza. Nothing about me or others like me.”
“Oh my god, I’m not asking you to turn me—”
“You don’t understand what you’re asking at all! Do you know what any of this costs? The actual cost of playing around with eternal life?”
You crossed your arms over your chest. “I’m sure you’re going to tell me.”
“Everything,” he snapped. “These things you’re so desperate to prove don’t matter to you cost us everything. For hundreds of years I have faced loss after loss after loss. Those hunter friends of yours killed Secondo’s very human girlfriend. Do you understand? That hunter—a girl he hired and trusted stabbed his girlfriend to death in front of us and I—I was powerless to stop it.”
“Terzo, I—”
“They will kill you too,” he said in a deadly serious tone. “They will not hesitate. Do you understand? If I mark you, it will only make things worse for you.” He shook his head, grabbing your hand as he looked back up at you. He tried and failed to blink away a few tears that gathered in the corners of his eyes. “I won’t…I can’t…I cannot watch you die, bellezza.”
You whispered his name as you reached for him, wanting to offer him something—comfort or empathy or at the very least understanding. He pressed a kiss into your palm before leaning into your touch. His skin was cold, dull, lifeless and you knew he was in much worse shape than he would ever admit. You’d started your summer wanting to kill him, but now you were able to see exactly how much it would hurt if he was gone.
“I can’t watch you die either,” you said quietly, choking on your own admission. “So, I guess we’re just going to have to keep saving each other.”
He huffed out a tiny laugh. “What’s a couple more times anyway, eh?”
“Exactly. So, it’s settled then?”
“Bellezza, I don’t think the devil himself could talk you out of something you’ve set your mind to.”
“Pretty sure this isn’t the time for a theology discussion.”
He groaned and rolled his eyes. “That,” he started, struggling to push himself up. “Is the furthest thing from my mind.”
“Good. How do we…do this?”
He shot you a half-smile and motioned for you to join him on the bed, explaining the easiest and most comfortable way for him to drink from you. Building up a small mountain of pillows for him to rest against, you eased him into a better position. It was difficult to see him look so powerless after everything the two of you had been through, but the mood already felt lighter. Both of you were taking a huge risk, but you knew deep down it was the right thing to do for him. You’d been so wrong about so many things, so blind to the most obvious signs, but this one—this glowed neon and warm as the vampire looked up at you adoringly.
You settled into his lap and closed your eyes, trying to steady your breathing. Despite how much you pushed for this, how much you wanted to do this to help him, it didn’t stop you from being terrified. He brought a hand to your hip and squeezed gently as his own breaths became more labored by the second.
“Will it hurt?” you asked as softly as you could, scared that any noise would break the two of you apart and he would change his mind.
“Bellezza, I would never hurt you,” he admitted in a whisper.
You pressed your forehead to his. “I know.”
You didn’t see his weak smile, your eyes still squeezed tight as he brought a hand to your chin. He smoothed his thumb over your jaw as he coaxed your head to the side and followed the trail down the veins of your neck. You flinched as his lips met your skin, but his teeth didn’t follow as he left soft kisses over the column of your throat. Slowly you felt your body relax against him, your chests pressed together. He locked an arm around your back, his fingers digging into your flesh as the most lascivious moan vibrated through his entire body.
He was right, he hadn’t hurt you. For a few seconds you weren’t quite sure what was happening. You shifted in his lap and a surprised gasp left you as you felt his cock growing thick against you. He whined at your movements struggling to keep you still as your warm, wet blood spilled from his mouth and dribbled down your neck. That seemed to pull you back to the reality of the situation, a dull ache growing where his teeth were pressed into your skin.
His hold got tighter and tighter and it wasn’t until you let out a pitiful whimper that he finally pulled off. He licked at your wounds, hungrily lapping up every drop that dribbled down like futilely trying to fight the sun from melting an ice cream. You slumped against him, heartbeat slowing with each second.
Terzo moved beneath you, easily lifting himself up despite your dead weight. He managed to relax, stretching his legs out so he could fully lay down. He kept you pinned to him, not that you could move even if you’d wanted to. He sucked in a deep breath, your body rising as his chest filled. His body began to grow warm, his complexion slowly returning to its healthy glow under your fingertips.
Weak and tired you rested your head against the new warmth of him, eyelids growing heavier with each slow beat of your heart. A small splotch of your blood stained his t-shirt, enough that the smell of copper seemed to overpower everything. As he carded a hand through your hair, your eyes finally closed.
-x-
Terzo was gone when you woke up.
The motel room was dark and with the TV off the only light came from the glowing red numbers on the alarm clock. You reached for the lamp, your muscles so stiff and sore you could barely lift your hand from the bed. Through dry, cracked lips you muttered his name, wondering if he was just lurking somewhere in the dark, but there was no response.
Everything fucking hurt. Places in your body you didn’t know could even feel pain seemed to scream to life as you pushed yourself up. It was like fire under your skin, the way your fingers would burn as they turn white from cold. A feeling without any sort of warmth. You were freezing, shivering against the motel’s paper-thin blankets and unable to move from your resting place.
Oh, you were going to kill him.
Outside, you could hear someone whistling loudly with no regard for anyone occupying the motel rooms. The door rattled as the old lock croaked out a beep and gave way with a loud click. The whistling only got louder as Terzo strolled in sporting a bare midriff and a delivery bag.
“Well, look who’s finally awake,” he quipped as he saw you sitting up. “How are you feeling?”
“Like I hate you,” you grinded out.
He clicked his tongue. “It’s a good thing I know you don’t mean that.”
You didn’t have a proper comeback for him this time. Your brain had turned to cotton candy with the density of dark matter and your face contorted in pain as you gritted your teeth. Terzo caught you quickly as you swung your legs off the side of the bed in an effort to stand, but you had all the coordination of a baby giraffe on ice.
“You need to stay put, bellezza.”
“Terzo, we have to get out of here,” you mumbled tiredly.
“Oh no, mia principessa. We are not going anywhere until you get your strength back.”
“Well, whose fault is that?”
He shot you a look as he dropped the bag on the table. “Yours.”
You forced yourself to your feet and cast him an equally annoyed glare. “Fuck you.”
“Oh, we’re not doing that until you get your strength back either,” he teased, wiggling his slender hips at you. The sharp angle of bone and a soft trail of dark hair was on prominent display as he continued to mime the very same motions he’d used on you a few times now. 
“Ugh, stop,” you whined, feigning disgust. “Where the fuck did you even find scissors?”
“Oh, the shirt needed some modifications. I hope you don’t mind.”
You pressed your fingers against your temples. “You left me in here like this because you needed another crop top?”
“Of course not! That was more of an opportunity that just presented itself. I left because I knew you would need a few things.” He frowned at you and guided you backwards until you sat on the bed. “You shouldn’t stand for a while.”
“And you shouldn’t be running around some random truck stop in the middle of nowhere!”
The corner of his mouth quirked up, pulling into a smirk. “Bellezza, were you worried about me?”
You shoved him as hard as you could in your weakened state. “Yes, you idiot!”
“Hey,” he pouted.
“Terzo, I have spent the last few days trying to keep you safe. I let you bite me for fuck’s sake! Is this just one big game to you?” you asked accusingly, not having the strength to keep the tears brimming in your eyes under control.
He dropped onto the bed and pulled you into his lap, cradling you as he spoke. “Tesoro, no. None of this is a game, ok? None of it.”
You gasped for breath between sobs as a sharp, searing pain ripped through your neck. It was the worst thing you’d ever felt, like broken glass and fire had replaced you blood. You dug your nails into Terzo’s arm, pressing harder with each wave of hurt. The smell of copper tinged the air.
“Tesorino, you’re ok,” he cooed, smoothing a hand down your back. “I need you to breathe, sì? Slowly,” he instructed as he reached for the bag. He kept an arm locked around you as he retrieved a small, white cardboard box. He ripped it open with his teeth, unwilling to let you go even for a second.
“There we go,” he said softly as your breathing returned to normal. He adjusted you in his lap, turning you just so and firmly pressed a gauze pad to your throat. He held it in place as he leaned down and let his lips brush gently across your forehead. “I’m so sorry, bellezza. This is all my fault.”
“Yeah, you really fucked up by falling on that poisoned-tipped dagger,” you grumbled.
“It was a bowie knife, mia cara. Feels different.”
“You make a habit of getting stabbed?”
“Once or twice,” he replied dismissively. “But that is a story for another time. I should have been here when you woke up.”
“It’s fine—”
“Bellezza, this pain,” he paused to flex his fingers around the gauze. “That is your bite reopening. You have to be more careful. You are, eh, delicate while you’re healing.”
“Great,” you groaned. “Nothing I love more than feeling delicate.”
“I promise it’s not forever, cara. But you might be a little more…eh, it’s not just a physical weakness, you’ll feel. You will probably feel quite emotional too. But that’s nothing a little chocolate can’t fix,” he adds with a nervous laugh.
“If you’re saying what I think you’re saying, I will kill you in your sleep.”
“Cocoa is good for your brain, tesorino.” He shook his head. “And I thought you were done trying to kill me, hmm?”
“I guess,” you managed through a yawn.
He dropped another kiss on your forehead before he slid you from his lap. He brought your hand to your neck, your fingers replacing his so he could tear through that silly delivery bag with reckless abandon. Piece by piece he revealed his truck stop haul. Somehow, he had been able to find things you hadn’t even thought of.
He knelt in front of you and gently helped you lift your hand and the bloody gauze away. Biting his lip in concentration, he leaned in to replace the bandage and secured it with a healthy amount of medical tape around the edges. When he was satisfied, he slipped his arms under you and shifted your body back against the pile of pillows you had made for him. With a smug grin he finally handed you a heavy chocolate bar in the fanciest wrapper you’d ever seen.
“The hell is this?”
“Chocolate?”
“Uh-huh. And where did it come from?”
“Ah,” he sang and bit into a chocolate bar of his own. “Would you like to hear about my day, bellezza?”
You tried to stay calm. “Please, please tell me you didn’t use your credit cards.”
“You worry too much.” He planted a patronizing kiss on the top of your head. “But, no, I did not use the credit cards. After I was restored, I took a little walk around the area. I knew you would need to rest and to eat and that you’d need bandages and probably a couple of good excuses, so I wandered into the little shop with the horrible ‘spaghetti.’” He paused to make a disgusted face, a shiver going through his body. “And do you know what I found?”
“Your flair for the dramatic?”
“I’d have to lose it first,” he teased and raised an eyebrow at you. “I found a very helpful young man—well, I say young, but I believe he said he was about 200—”
“Terzo? Did you befriend another werewolf?”
“What? No, I—are you going to let me tell my story, cara?” he huffed.
You lazily mimed zipping your mouth shut.
“Grazie mille. Where was I? Oh! The helpful young vampire let me borrow some scissors for the t-shirt and taught me how to use something called an app. From his phone, don’t worry. Bellezza, did you know you can just…have food brought to you?”
You bit your tongue as his face lit up and he presented you with an insane amount of takeout containers.
“I wasn’t sure what you might want when you woke up, but, eh, Robert said that wasn’t really an issue around here. So, there’s a little bit of everything I could find, plus the chocolate bars.”
“Terzo?”
“I didn’t use cards. I—”
“Thank you,” you whispered as tears spilled down your face again.
He shot you a worried look as you began to weep openly. “Cara, you…you said we had to keep saving each other.”
You nodded. “I did say that.”
“Well, it was my turn. And I am not nursing you back to health with salt and those disgusting energy drinks Omega is addicted to, ok? Not for mia principessa.”
He settled next to you on the bed and flipped through the TV as you ate small bites from the container than smelled the best. It wasn’t the same pain, but swallowing your food hadn’t felt great and you were growing tired fast. He let you rest against his shoulder, eyelids drooping as you began to drift. He made a tiny, happy sound as he found a channel that featured men on skates.
“Bellezza, look! This is the one you like, sì? The violence?”
You cuddled closer to him, warming yourself with the heat of his body as you glanced at the TV. There was a singular man gliding beautifully over the ice before pushing off into a jump. “This is men’s figure skating.”
“Oh. It’s not the same?”
You shook your head as you leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. “But I like this too.”
-x-
Morning arrived too quickly with a harsh light that cracked through the edge of the dingy curtains and revealed just how much dust was floating around that tiny motel room. Terzo held you as close as possible, the rough blankets tangled around his hips and yours, almost tying the two of you together. He had draped himself over you sometime last night between a sleepy discussion of the differences of technical and artistic scoring and deciding when the two of you should plan to leave for Primo’s house. You were too exhausted to argue for your own space in the bed, much less your own plans for moving forward. So, you pressed into his side, accepting the comfort of him and fell asleep in his arms.
It was beginning to feel natural somehow, like waking up next to Terzo Emeritus was just something you did every day. Part of a routine that should have worried you or even scared you, but it just…didn’t. There was no real way to explain it to yourself. As much as the rational, trained vampire hunter part of you had never, ever imagined anything like this would happen to you it didn’t feel wrong. Your only worry was the dull throb of the bite wound pulsing in your neck.
You shifted around, trying to lessen the pressure on the spot. His hold on you tightened with a tired whine and a whispered “don’t” falling from his lips.
“We should get up,” you suggested.
“Not yet, mia principessa. Please?”
There was something about the way he said it, something in the tone that made the air leave your lungs. But this time it felt different—his words didn’t frighten you, didn’t carry a weight that you couldn’t understand. There was no desire to run and hide, no itch under your skin that begged you to push him away. The voice in your head that usually screamed these kinds of things were wrong and too much was silent for once. You were content where you were, happy to lay next to him even if he didn’t give you any room. Almost as though you wanted to be there.
With a yawn, you agreed to let him sleep a little longer.
An hour later he finally dragged himself to a seated position, dramatically stretching and grunting in a way you’d come to expect. He resigned himself to getting dressed, pausing to not so subtly watch you move through the room as you went to shower and change into the novelty “Roadkill Café” t-shirt he’d bought for you while you were passed out. You brushed your teeth together, each of you eyeing the other in the mirror with curiosity and shy smiles.
There was something so normal about the whole thing. Tiny moments of domesticity and the sweetness of a simple touch. The idiot had even kissed you while globs of toothpaste foamed around his mouth, leaving a trail of mint and spit on your cheek. It allowed you to forget the rest of the world, to forget that outside this room people were actively trying to kill both of you. With that thought, the spell was broken, and you began to pick at your cuticles while he busied himself with the mass of food containers he brought back.
“You ok, bellezza?” he asked carefully, but he couldn’t mask the concern on his face.
You forced a smile and stood, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Just ready to get going, I guess.”
He brought a hand to your face, softly caressing your cheek before turning it over to press the back to your forehead. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m fine. I just…I think we’re stayed here way too long.”
“We didn’t really have a choice.”
“No, but we should get going before someone figures out where we are—or where we’re going.”
He gave you an easy shrug. “I’ll drive.”
You stifled a laugh. “You?”
“Bellezza, you wound me. It may have been a while, but I am perfectly capable of operating a car.”
“You opened the sunroof in the rain.”
“True, but that has nothing to do with driving.”
“Go on then.”
He did not remember how to drive. After a few panic inducing laps around the parking lot, Terzo grew more comfortable behind the wheel while you adjusted your seatbelt every ten seconds to make sure it was still secure. The interstate was a mostly deserted straight shot and after about 50 miles you let yourself begin to worry about something else.
You would never say it out loud, but the closer you got to Primo’s house the more your nerves grew. You had spent your entire life researching the Emeritus vampires, seeking out whatever weaknesses one could find to exploit to destroy them. A lifetime built on tearing their lives apart piece by tiny piece had also instilled a healthy fear and respect for the eldest brother.
There was a reason no one went after Primo.
If the last few weeks had taught you anything, it was that you knew nothing. You couldn’t begin to understand the ins and outs of vampire politics during your training. There was a system designed in the shadows and kept secret from those who would hunt them down. No one had ever gotten close enough to figure out exactly how it all worked—at least no one who made it back alive. But the vampires had made it very clear throughout the last century especially that there was one vampire at the head of the table: Primo Emeritus.
It was a name many vampires had chosen to die for rather than betray and you couldn’t help wondering what it was all for.
Somewhere past a washed out exit sign, Terzo turned onto a desolate back road long neglected by the county. The strip of faded asphalt was scarred with deep cracks and potholes overrun by weeds and grass, cutting its way through fields on either side that seemed to stretch past the horizon. Decrepit, abandoned homes occasionally dotted the countryside. Glass shards hung from rotting windowpanes like broken teeth below collapsed roofs and sagging bricks. It was a graveyard of a forgotten community, a place where nothing but underbrush seemed to thrive.
“Terzo, are you sure you’re going the right way?” you asked as your stomach tied itself into a million knots. It didn’t look like anyone would be out here—living or dead.
“Oh yes, principessa. Trust me.”
It would have been a lot easier to do if it didn’t look like the kind of backdrop even horror movies avoided.
He slowed the car and guided it to the left at a broken stone marker. A barely noticeable overgrown gravel drive slipped between the trees, framed by an old iron gate left open and consumed by rust. An elaborate decorative E on the gate was held in place by little more than patina.
“Told you,” Terzo teased as he pointed at the gate. He across the console to place a hand on your knee and gave it a comforting squeeze. “There’s no reason to be scared, bellezza. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
That only made your heartbeat faster.  
At the crest of a small hill, a house came into view. Unlike the other homes you had passed on the way in this one was quite clearly lived in and loved. The stone façade of the storybook cottage was completely covered in thick greenery and climbing roses, reclaimed by its surroundings. The limbs and leaves had been trimmed away from the rounded windows, each of them left open to let the summer breeze pass through. A scene of delicate flowers made from colorful stained glass hung in the frame of the old oak door—a burst of brightness that set a clear division between the owner of this home and the one who’d built Meliora house.
Terzo parked close to the house, stopping behind a sleek black classic car. Something from the 50’s you guessed. The shine and smooth shapes of the vintage Cadillac made Terzo’s modern machine look like a dumpy toaster in comparison.
There was a flash of movement past the front window as the two of you climbed out of the car. You took the opportunity to stretch your legs, pacing a short length of driveway while Terzo stared up at the house with his hands on his hips. It was eerily quiet, save for the gravel crunching under your feet and the billions of insects singing in the woods. The sun broke through the surrounding trees and showered beams of light over the neat rows of flowers that lined a stone wall. Vibrant hues and shapes buzzed with fat little honeybees happily jumping from bloom to bloom. You couldn’t help but think of this place as some beautiful timeless utopia, somehow untouched by all the decay and abandonment of the surrounding area.
Vampires always lived in the weirdest places.
A tall, older gentleman emerged from the front door and stepped outside with a commanding, regal presence. He didn’t even need to open his mouth to cause the two of you to stop in your tracks and look up at him. Crooked black lines cut his face into the signature skull mask the brothers all wore. The jagged shape of it did nothing to soften his appearance. His eyes, mismatched just like Terzo’s, scanned the lawn and squinted down at you. A deep red robe made of what had to be silk hung off his shoulders, framing him like a holy man in designer vestments. While his look exuded power above anything, there was still the frail body of an elderly man staring back at you.
“Primo!” Terzo shouted a little too loudly. “You look like shit.”
Primo narrowed his eyes at the younger man. “What does your shirt say?”
Terzo shot you a nasty look as you clasped your hands over your mouth to cover your laughter. “It’s, eh, a little joke between the two of us,” he explained with a wave of his hand. “This one thinks she’s funny.”
Primo took a long look at both of you before he stepped to the side with a sigh. “You might as well come in.”
The smell of fresh eucalyptus and mint wafted through the air as you stepped inside the vampire’s home. Worn, old boards creaked beneath your feet as Primo led you to the main living room. The house was filled with warm wood carved into intricate shapes that framed each doorway and the numerous bookcases nestled inside the walls. There was a cozy nook built under the front window, an old volume left open atop a soft blanket. Shelves held a carefully placed collection of antiques, old dry leather bound books with ancient pages, and rusted old trinkets and tools. An expensive telescope was pointed toward a south-facing window surrounded by two thriving palms plants. Meliora House had been filled with things no one ever used, but Primo’s things seemed to serve a purpose.
Terzo flung himself unceremoniously onto the vintage velvet sofa against the wall, ignoring the cracking sound it made and the pointed look his brother gave him.
“Well then, what have you done this time?” Primo asked in an accusing tone, his white hair falling over his shoulders as he angled himself between the two of you.
“Oh, what I can’t stop by to say hello?”
Primo pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fratellino, you have done many—and I do mean many stupid things in your lifetimes, but I had never dared to hope you wouldn’t bring a hunter to my door.”
You swallowed hard as Terzo began to fidget nervously. “She’s, eh…” he started, waving a hand as he looked at you. “You could say she’s had a change of heart.”
“Is that so?” he asked, eyeing you curiously.
“I managed to get here without killing him,” you offered.
Primo laughed loudly, his voice echoing off the support beams above. “That is a true challenge indeed!” he hollered and slapped his knee. As his laughter died down, he turned and gave you a soft, genuine smile. He offered his hand. “Come with me, piccolina.”
“Hey!” Terzo shouted as you accepted Primo’s hand. “What about me?”
Primo shrugged. “Go fix your face, stronzio.”
“Testa di cazzo,” he grumbled and made a rude gesture as he stalked off toward the back of the house.
The old vampire kept your hand in his, gently leading you through his home as gracefully as he would have led you through a waltz. You had seen and fell prey to Terzo’s charms immediately, but it was becoming clear where he’d learned it all. Primo didn’t seem to waste words or time, unafraid to call out his younger brother’s missteps or identify you for what you were. It was clear he was not threatened by you—you never would have made it into the house if that was the case, but he had made a strategic move to separate you from Terzo. His brother had sensed it too.
At the edge of the cottage was a small kitchen lined with open shelves and cabinets with glass doors. Each one was absolutely packed with jars of all sizes and filled with various herbs and tinctures in nearly as many colors as the stained glass window above the sink. There was a faint scent of incense, something woody yet soft with a hint of smoke and clove that made the space feel impossibly cozy.
A vase of fresh cut flowers sat on a small table in the center of the room, its chairs tucked neatly in place. He pulled one out for you and gestured for you to take a seat.
“Are you hungry, piccolina?” he asked instead of joining you at the table.
“Oh no, I’m fine,” you lied as your stomach growled and gave you away.
He laughed heartily, flashing sharp fangs as he swiped a hand under his wrinkled eye. “I’m afraid it is not very easy to lie to me.”
“I’m sorry. I was just trying to be polite.”
He tilted his head, another soft, fond smile gracing his lips. “He’s marked you.”
“What?” you snapped, your hand going straight to your bandage as you nearly jumped from your chair. “How did you—”
“Piccolina, please sit. Neither of you are in trouble. Would you care for some tea?”
“I—uh—"
He turned without waiting for an answer and busied himself with filling a kettle at the sink. He hummed as he moved, settling the kettle on the stove before poking through the pots and pans that hung just above. He was going to far too much trouble for you, but you weren’t exactly sure how to protest the manners of such a powerful vampire. You barely made it through three sips of tea before your eyelids grew heavy and you folded your arms to rest your head on the table. He continued to clamor around the kitchen as you watched sleepily, his hum turning to a soft whistle as you dozed off.
The smell of fresh tomatoes and basil began to make your stomach growl again, loud enough that it woke you from your nap. It took you a moment to remember where you were as you looked at the pots bubbling away on the stove and the patterned tile of the floor around you. Mrs. G was the only person you knew who could cook and this certainly wasn’t her apartment.
“Primo?” a soft voice called from the side door. “I’ve got your groceries.”
You heard Primo quickly sweep through the house behind you, that fancy robe billowing as he rushed to greet her. “Ah, diavolina! I didn’t expect you today.”
“I’m sorry. I had something come up and I needed to make the delivery early. I should have called or something. I didn’t expect you to have company.”
“It was a surprise to me as well, diavolina,” he said with a laugh.
You leaned back in your chair trying to peer around the corner, but you were unable to see who he was talking to. You strained your ears to make out the rest of their muffled conversation before reminding yourself that it was really none of your business. After a moment, they exchanged goodbyes and Primo returned to the kitchen.
“Everything ok, piccolina? How was your nap?”
“Oh, I’m fine really. I’ve just been so tired since—uh—”
He nodded. “That is a common side effect, but this should help.”
Your eyes followed him as he swept back through the kitchen, draining pots and stirring the contents of others. When he finished, he presented you with a dish that was plated so nicely it should have been in a photograph. He doted on you, bringing over anything he thought you might need from extra silverware to pepper before he settled across from you with his own plate. You wondered how long it had been since he had a proper visitor. Even the delivery girl seemed surprised someone else was here.
“You know, for people who don’t need to eat, you guys sure do love food,” you quipped before taking a bite. It was without a doubt the best thing you had ever tasted and you let out an involuntary pleased hum. “Ok, I take it back. I get it now.”
He chuckled softly. “Grazzie mille, piccolina. One could get very bored very quickly if he only allowed himself to eat one thing for eternity.”
“Ah, good point.”
“Piccolina, did you know for as long as there have been vampires, there have been vampire hunters?”
You nervously gripped your fork. “I had been taught that, yes. But I’m learning there are a lot of things that I was taught that might not be…correct.”
He laughed lightly and patted your hand. “I’m afraid that might be our fault as well. Vampire hunters are almost always human and therefore have much shorter live expectancies. Which they then use to fuel your hatred for us, yes? To make monsters out of men like me and Terzo when all we’ve ever done, for centuries mind you, is defend ourselves or the ones we love. Hunters are…shortsighted. They have the luxury of a limited memory, but it forces them to pass their hatred to younger and younger generations. Do you recall many elders from your group?”
“One or two, maybe?” you admitted. “They were always sort of…hidden.”
Primo nodded. “One of the more effective ways we found to protect ourselves was to spread disinformation through the hunters’ network. There may not be much they taught you about us that is actually true.” He cracked a wry smile. “Once for about, eh, fifty years, I had them convinced that we lay eggs to reproduce.”
“And they just…believed you?”
He shrugged. “Hatred makes you blind to many things, piccolina. But also, quite gullible to others.”
“I don’t know that I would ever believe that.”
He raised an eyebrow. “But sunlight, garlic, silver, mirrors…these things are believable to you?”
You sank in your seat. “I see your point.”
He reached across the table and squeezed your hand. “I did not tell you these things to make you feel foolish, piccolina. I imagine it is quite difficult to try to unlearn a lifetime of things in a matter of a few weeks.” He sighed heavily. “It is a shame what they did to Meliora House, but I suppose in a way it helped you at least.”
“What the hell is this?” Terzo bellowed as he appeared and leaned against the doorframe. “Are you trying to steal her from me, old man?” Gone was the sassy little crop top, replaced by a tasteful black dress shirt he had given up buttoning past his navel. His paints were back as well, thick precise lines that gave him an edge of seriousness you weren’t used to.
“Well, it would certainly teach you a lesson about trying to steal your brothers’ wives—” Primo noted, pointing his fork at his brother. He reached over with his other hand to pat you on the back, his accusation causing you to choke on your food. “Hmm, looks like the two of you need to have a conversation about your past now that you belong to one another.”
“Oh no, that’s not really what we’re doing,” you added nervously. “He just needed help.”
He pinned you with a concerned look before turning back to his brother. “Terzo…”
He held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t look at me. I explained the whole thing before it happened—”
“And he was, you know, dying,” you added.
“I was not!”
“Well, you looked like a corpse.”
“Piccolina, I do appreciate your willingness to not let Terzo die.” He stood and moved closer to you to gently ask his next question. “But do you really not understand what the two of you have done?”
“Is it really that serious?”
“You explained nothing, idiota!” Primo barked as he crossed the room to smack the back of Terzo’s head.
“Yes, I did!” he shot back, ducking out of his brother’s reach as he tried to hit him again. “It’s not my fault that she’s so—”
“So what, Terzo?” you interrupted.
“Stubborn! Ai!” he howled as you pinched him. “Both of you fuck off!”
Primo narrowed his eyes at his brother, the white one almost glowing with anger. He spoke in quick, clipped Italian phrases, each one punctuated by another slap to any part of Terzo’s body he could get to. It went on for several minutes with Terzo covering his face to protect it from the blows as he snapped back in what you assumed was equally aggressive language. The last phrase he spat out was a step too far and Primo growled as he hauled Terzo up by the collar, his feet kicking desperately as his brother lifted him and dragged him to the side door. He tossed him out with no effort, the frail appearance of his body betraying his true strength.
There was an aura of anger hanging over him, a cloud of unhealthy rage that only seemed to dissipate after he threw his plate at the wall. When he turned back to you there was nothing but kindness in his eyes and an apology for his actions on his lips. He regarded you with a soft, gentile expression, almost like he wished he could explain everything and apologize for Terzo himself. You had no idea what they had screamed at each other, but the look he gave you—the pity—suggested that his younger brother had massively fucked up.
“Did he tell you, piccolina? About the mark?” he asked quietly, averting his gaze.
“Um…”
“What he said is important. Do you remember it?”
You nodded and swallowed hard. “He said that there’s a…bond that would form between us and that no one else could touch me.”
“Did he tell you why?” he asked as he knelt in front of you.
You shook your head. “He just…he said I was different?”
His shoulders sagged as he sighed heavily. “It’s true, piccolina. You are different to him. The mark…the bond it creates…it’s…” he trailed off and sucked down an uneasy breath before taking your hands in his. “It is an act of love, piccolina,” he explained quietly. “A sign of devotion.”
“I-I don’t—"
His face softened. “It’s not such an easy thing to explain, I imagine. Our existence is…well lucky for you it was something you were already aware of, but as I said there is a lot that humans still don’t understand about us. I am sure that’s not an easy thing to hear either. But the two of you…are bound together.”
“Yeah, that’s what he said.”
Primo sighed and glanced out the window. “Mio fratellino is…shall we say, complicated. He has always worn his heart on his sleeve—used to drive our father insane. A free spirit like that is much harder to control, you see? But now it seems he has finally met his match. His heart belongs to you.”
“I get what you’re saying but that…that—that can’t be right. He—”
“It is what the mark means, piccolina. It’s an act of love because it is love.”
“But…he…I…are you saying that he’s—he’s in lo—” You swallowed the rest of the word, wanting to choke on it as the sharp edges scraped down your throat.
“I cannot speak for him, but I suspect he has spent a very long time trying to feel anything but this. Possibly longer than you can comprehend. I’m in no position to ask any favors, but please, if you could, be careful with him, eh? You are his heart now.”
“That…that’s not possible—”
“And yet it is,” he said, groaning as he stood, his joints popping loudly. “You realize he wouldn’t bring just anybody to this place, piccolina. But he brought you.”
“Why would he—”
“You’ll have to ask him, I’m afraid. I suspect he’ll be hiding somewhere out in the gardens as usual,” he said as he pointed to an empty space between hedges.
On shaking legs, you pushed yourself up and made your way to the side door. Your head spun, overloaded with a pressure that made you dizzy.
“Primo?” you asked.
“Yes, piccolina?”
“What did you say to him?”
He cracked a smile. “Just gave him some brotherly advice.”
You nodded and pushed your way out of the cottage. A small stone path overgrown with bright green moss led away from the house and past a large, glass-domed conservatory filled with plants and flowers. The break in the hedge revealed a private garden completely hidden from view by the surrounding foliage. The most beautiful flowers sprouted from every direction lit by tiny lanterns and lights that had been fixed to the arches above. The plants had been encouraged to grow up and over the opening, like the space was just part of the landscape. It was clear that Primo had spent a lot of time and effort to build this space and you found yourself remembering the lush gardens of Meliora House. Had he designed those too?
There was so much you didn’t know about Terzo and his life. About his brothers and how they grew up and came to be what they are. So many things were a mystery to you and yet somehow, he had seen through all your ignorance and found something about you that he could no longer deny—even if he wanted to. It was on you now, his feelings woven into your skin—into your blood, your cells. Words he hadn’t said were spreading within you like an infection, an illness with a countdown clock ticking away to your death. Until the end of your natural life, he had said. How could he even know he would feel this longer than five minutes?
At the end of the path, Terzo stood facing away from you. His attention was focused solely on the rose bush in front of him. You called his name softly, your chest tightening when he didn’t move, though you both knew he’d heard you. It hit you hard as you stared at the back of him, his shoulders no longer holding that poise or confidence he had carried over the last few days. He looked so small, like he had when you’d first arrived at his house, that melancholy version of himself that wanted nothing to do with anyone.
Why hadn’t he told you what it all meant? Why didn’t he tell you the importance of the decision you made for the two of you? Why the fuck would he not look at you now? And why did it hurt so fucking much?
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you asked. Your voice sounded so far away. 
“Tell you what?” he asked. He still refused to look at you, not even a sideways glance. The face paint masked his expressions, but it was easy to tell he was in pain. 
He focused on picking at an invisible hair on his pants, anything to keep his eyes down and his face forward. It hurt to look at him, to see him look so beautiful standing there despite his current attitude. You wished you could keep this moment, to capture him on film or in swirls of oil paints on a canvas grand enough to hold his image. But you couldn’t tell him. You couldn’t say much of anything.
Tears stung your eyes as he plucked a perfect rose from the bush and started slowly twisting it in his fingers. He barely winced as the thorns caught his fingers, drawing his blood in a way that felt ugly. You had seen him like this before, that night you found him singing in the garden. You’d meant to kill him and now all you wanted was for him to look at you.
“Terzo?” you tried again.
“Would you like me to apologize?” he asked coldly and finally turned to look at you.
“No. I just—Primo told me—”
“I don’t care what he told you, bellezza. He’s a lonely old fool,” he spat. “And you—why, why is it different now that he said it, huh?” He pointed at himself. “I told you. I told you the cost and what it meant, and it was still nothing to you.”
“I didn’t know. I-I didn’t understand—”
“Understand what?” he shouted.
“That you are in love with me!” you yelled back. “How was I supposed to know what it meant, Terzo? Do you think I would have said any of those things if I had known?”
With that the dam broke and you collapsed on the lawn in a sad, lifeless heap. You had never cried so hard in your entire life, and you hoped you never would again. There was so much pain and confusion in every ragged breath, and it burned through every part of you, rolling like hot smoke in your lungs as you clutched at the grass. Your chest heaved, but every attempt to get even the smallest amount of oxygen failed miserably. Terzo appeared at your side and god how you wanted to fight him off as he pulled you to his chest, but you just felt so small without him. 
“I’m so sorry bellezza,” he whispered into your ear and held you tight. “I’ve lived so long, and I still don’t know how to be a better man.”
“Just be a fucking vampire then,” you mumbled back.
“I’m not so sure I’m good at that either.”
“Then why the hell are we doing this, huh? Why should I keep saving your life?”
“Oh bellezza,” he sighed. He dragged you into his lap and kissed the top of your head. “Because you like me.”
“Ugh,” you groaned. “No, I don’t.”
“It doesn’t have to change things,” he offered quietly. “I don’t want you to change.”
You shifted away, angling yourself so you could look into his eyes. “Terzo, I—”
He pressed a finger to your lips. “You’re right, I should have told you. And you deserve to hear it, but it’s…it’s not nearly as easy as they make it look in those films.”
“Terzo, it’s ok—”
He cut you off with your name and a serious look as he ran a hand over the bandage on your neck. “This marks you because I love you, bellezza. It doesn’t say that you are mine. It says that I am yours.” He took your hand and placed it over his heart. “This is yours, cuore mio.”
You crashed into him, the two of you falling onto the grass as you kissed him desperately. There were things you could say, answers to questions he didn’t ask, but for the first time in your life you believed someone could love you. Not only could he love you, but he did. He loved you despite the cost to himself and the danger it put you both in. You melted into him, giving him the breath from your lungs and the blood in your veins. Yeah, he was yours, but you were his too. Even if you couldn’t say it out loud, it was in that wound on your neck, a scar you’d bear for the rest of your life.
Terzo was quick to pull you from the grass and back inside Primo’s. His mouth never left yours as he guided you to the little guest room at the back of the house. His t-shirt was still on the floor and the paints were left open in front of the vanity, but he was only focused on adding your clothes to the pile as he urged you toward the bed. His hair fell over his face as he leaned over you, dipping his head to trail hot kisses over the column of your throat and down your bare chest, leaving smears of black and white in his wake. He pushed your thighs apart as he kissed his way across your body, stopping short to lock eyes with you as he reached your sex.
You grabbed a fistful of his hair, tugging roughly as his plush lips connected to your center. Teasingly, he ran his tongue through your folds and around your clit, moaning each time your hips left the bed. He pushed his fingers against your entrance, wanting to feel the effect he had on you. He told you as much as he pulled off your cunt to watch you stretch around his fingers as they disappeared inside you. The heel of his palm added pressure to your center as he moved up to kiss you. He pumped his fingers faster, smiling as you moaned into his mouth.
“So beautiful like this, principessa,” he whispered against your skin as your hips bucked against his hand. “Cosi bella.”
“You are,” you countered breathlessly.
He just smiled and pulled his hand away as he rolled onto the bed. “Come here,” he said, motioning with the fingers that were still wet with your slick. You gave him a puzzled look as you tried to straddle him, but he shifted until your knees were positioned on either side of his head.
“I want you like this,” he growled as he grabbed ahold of your hips and pulled you down to him.
His tongue was exploring your entrance as his nose bumped against your clit and you searched for anything you could hold onto. Your hands found his hair, gripping tight as he worked you over like it was the only thing he has ever wanted to do. Like he was trying to give you something no one else ever could. It was too much, too good, but he was too strong to let you get away easily. He dug his fingers into your hips he urged you toward your end. It washed over you, each nerve of your body exploding into little fireworks as your body tensed and you came with a shout, completely forgetting you were a guest in someone else’s home.
He grinned up at you, his face paint smeared away from his mouth and spread across the inside of your thighs.
You smiled back at him, moving further down on the bed so you could claim his lips with your own, needing to taste yourself in his mouth, needing him to know. He reached for you, but you knocked his hands away and pinned his wrists to the mattress with one hand as the other worked at the buttons of his shirt. It fell away from his chest, revealing a jagged mark where that stupid poisoned knife had pierced him.
You traced a finger over the silvery scar, feeling along the soft ridge where his pale skin had pulled itself back together. His eyes shut tight as you leaned down to plant kisses on the spot, trailing a wordless apology over his chest. A tiny whimper caught in the back of his throat as he bit his lip bloody, but you kept your touches light. You drew your lips over every inch of skin, kissing every freckle and scar, each sign that he had lived that marred his chest. You didn’t know where the others had come from, but it didn’t matter. There were several lifetimes worth of stories he could tell you when he wanted to and you’d commit each one to memory just as you would the matching scars.
He was coming apart beneath you, face twisted in pleasure and pain. You wondered why he’d never let anyone see him like this when he looked so beautiful. You toyed with the bar in his nipple, drinking in the sight of him frantically turning his head to bite at the sheets in a desperate attempt to ground himself. Was this what you had looked like to him?
His cock was straining against his pants by the time you reached his waistband, but you were in no real hurry. You freed him slowly, appreciating the length and weight of his cock as it curved up toward his belly. You licked the slit, almost purring at the noise that came out of him as you collected that little pearl of pre that had gathered at the tip.
His eyes were set on you as you lowered your head, taking more of him into your mouth. The two of you had fucked and he had even let you use him to fuck yourself, but this was the first time you were really seeing him unravel. There was something sweet about the moan that rumbled in his chest as he hit the back of your throat, like the sound he’d made when your blood filled his mouth. A noise that was a confession, a pure and complete desire to give yourself over to someone, to have them accept such a gift.
“Terzo?” you asked softly and wrapped your fist around him to make up for the loss of your mouth.
“Hmm?” he replied, eyes barely open.
“Do you…want to…”
“Want to what, cuore mio?”
“Would you…bite me again?” He kept his face blank, but his cock twitched in your hand. “You don’t have to. I just thought…maybe…”
“Are you asking because you want me to? Or are you asking because you think that’s what I want?”
“I’m asking because I want to know what it feels like,” you answered as you squeezed the base of his cock.
He groaned under you. “Amore, I would do whatever you asked.”
“Hmm, I’m going to have to remember that,” you said with a smile as you climbed back up his body. You pressed your lips to his as you reached between you and guided his cock through your slick, both of you moaning loudly as he bumped against your clit. You lined him up with your entrance, sinking slowly as he stretched you. It hadn’t even been that long, but you realized how much you missed the feeling of him, how perfectly the two of you seemed to fit together. He waited for your signal, watching you intently as you feel him press against your walls before canting his hips and reaching an impossible angle. You go slow at first, both of you content in the heat of each other, but it didn’t take long for him to make you beg for something more. You held onto him for dear life as he fucked up into so hard you couldn’t even form the words to tell him the second time you came.
“So fucking beautiful,” he said again, punctuating each thrust with the words. “Can you do it again, huh? Think you can give me one more?”
You nodded, trying to meet his thrusts to shut him up but let out a yelp as he turned and pinned you down.
“Are you sure?” he asked, running his nose along your throat.
“Yes.”
You felt a pinch as his teeth cut into your neck. Blood pumped from the wound, spilling a little more with each heartbeat. Terzo closed his mouth over the bite and let out a low, filthy moan as the taste washed over his tongue. He slammed into you as he drank, an animalistic drive taking over with a growl.
You whimpered beneath him, overcome with too many sensations as he took long pulls from your throat. The sound seemed to drag him back to himself, catching him before he went too far. He slowed his pace as off your neck and licked your blood from his teeth, staring down at the space where your bodies connected. He pushed your knees apart and thrust deep, grinning at the sound he pulled from you. His fingers swirled around your clit as he fucked you faster and harder until you choked out a broken cry, your third orgasm ripping through you. There was praise mumbled into your ear, a lot of talk about how beautiful you were and how good you felt around him, but all you could do was shake through the aftershocks as his hips stuttered. He came with a loud grunt, spilling impossibly deep inside you as he fucked each hot pulse into you.
He collapsed on top of you, gasping for breath as he pressed his sweaty forehead against your shoulder. “I knew it,” he panted between labored breaths. “You are still trying to kill me.”
You laughed and kissed him on the cheek. “You can live forever if you’re going to keep fucking me like that.”
“That could be arranged.”
“Shut up,” you managed through a giggle.
“Stay put, bellezza,” he ordered and kissed your shoulder before pulling away from you.
You gave him a thumbs up as he rounded the bed and disappeared into the en suite bathroom. A few seconds later he emerged with some wet cloths and sat next to you as the shower ran in the other room. Gently, he swiped around the wound at your neck, cleaning away as much blood as he could without causing you too much discomfort. He frowned at his handiwork, his expression made that much funnier by the smeared and smudged lines around his mouth.
“You’re going to need more bandages.” There was a hint of disappointment in his tone, almost guilty.
“Hey, I asked for this,” you reminded him.
He swallowed hard. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”
It was difficult for the two of you to arrange yourselves in the tiny clawfoot tub, but Terzo made sure to take care of you in whatever way he could. He washed the rest of the blood away from your neck with such a delicate hand as he lathered a lavender scented soap over your skin. He rubbed your shoulders, working his way through the knots that had returned over the last few days, teasing you as you whimpered with relief. When you finished, he carried you back into the bedroom and placed you on the bed. He crawled in next to you and pulled you close as he shut his eyes. The afternoon sun still hung high in the sky sending daylight through the curtains behind the bed.
“Are you tired?” you teased.
“Are you not?”
“I could use a nap I guess.”
“Bene. How is your neck? Will those bandages hold?”
“As long as we’re careful, I think we’ll be fine.” You turned to look at him. There was a question hanging over the two of you, something you weren’t quite sure how to ask. But if Primo was right and everything you had been taught about vampires was incorrect then you had to start somewhere. “Is…is that how you…”
“Hmm?”
“Did someone…do this to you? To make you like this?”
He blinked at you. “Did—did I get bitten, you mean?”
“I’m sorry. That’s…that’s way too personal. Forget I said anything—”
“Bellezza,” he started softly, “that is a very, very long story about something that happened a long, long time ago. And I will tell you every detail if you wish to hear it, but you won’t turn from a bite, cuore mio. There is more to it than that.”
“Like what?”
“Well…dying was a pretty big part of it,” he replied with a shrug.
“Does it hurt?”
He gave you a tight smile and tucked your hair behind your ear. “I told you I would never hurt you.”
“I’m not asking you to. I’m just…curious, I guess.”
“It…dying didn’t feel good,” he explained cautiously. “Not to me, at least. There was no peace in it at all.”
“I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. God, I don’t know what is wrong with me.”
“Shh, bellezza. It’s ok. I wouldn’t have answered if I didn’t want to. Can I…can I ask you something?”
You nodded sleepily. “I think that’s only fair.”
“What would you do with it?”
“With what?”
“Eternal life.”
“I don’t know, honestly. I…I don’t know that I’d be able to accept it.”
He smiled softly. “That’s a good answer, cara.”
“You’re not…disappointed?”
“Amore mio, immortality is an impossible thing to imagine. The concept of forever is hard enough to grasp when life is limited but even I sometimes have trouble considering the infinite. I will never be disappointed in you for having an honest reaction to such a notion.”
“You’re wrong, you know? About not being a good man. I think you’re doing just fine.”
“I knew you liked me.”
You rolled your eyes and reached up to grab a pillow to hit him with, but before you could bring it down on him, he had gone cold. His dull, lifeless eyes stared back at you as you let out a horrible scream. You shook him hard, trying desperately to get him to respond as you shouted repeatedly for help.
Primo crashed through the door with lightning speed, nearly knocking you over as he landed at Terzo’s side. He ordered you to stay put before he disappeared and reappeared almost too quickly for you to notice. It made your head hurt to try to watch him move in such a way, but you were grateful that he was fast enough to help. He poured something into Terzo’s mouth before stuffing it full of odd leaves and holding it shut. Terzo began to convulse, a thick foam dribbling out of his mouth and over Primo’s hands.
“Give me your hand,” he ordered.
You did as he asked without question, your face blank as he pricked your finger and squeezed a drop of your blood into Terzo’s mouth.
“What’s happening to him?”
“It’s ok, piccolina,” Primo said softly. “He’s been poisoned by something strong.”
“Is he—”
“No!” he snapped. He reeled when you cowered away from him and shook his head. “No, piccolina. I won’t let that happen to him. You won’t let that happen to him.”
Terzo groaned weakly as his eyes fluttered open. “What happened?” he asked, his words garbled by the herbs and foam. “Ugh what did you do?”
“Saved your stupid life,” Primo growled. “At least for now. Why didn’t you tell me? How long has this been happening?”
He shrugged. “I had it handled.”
“You most certainly do not,” Primo scolded.
“I’m here aren’t I?” he snapped back.
You couldn’t hold back the awful cry that burned in your throat as you realized he knew something was wrong. You shoved him as tears poured from your eyes, striking him repeatedly as hard as you could until Primo finally had to restrain you. “Why didn’t you tell me?” you screamed as you fought against Primo’s hold. “Did you know the whole time?”
Terzo looked up at you with a helpless expression. “I—I didn’t want you to worry.”
“Oh fratellino,” Primo sighed as he shrugged off his robe and draped it over your shoulders. “Try not to hurt him while I’m gone, eh?”
“I make no promises,” you replied through gritted teeth.
“Works for me,” he said and patted the top of your head before he left the room.
Terzo groaned as he pushed himself up. “Bellezza?”
You shook your head. “Were you just…going to let yourself die? Was that really a choice you considered over…telling me the truth?”
“I didn’t want you to hate me for telling you. For a moment, death seemed easier to deal with and that’s how I knew it was true. I knew then that I’m in love with you. I’m sorry for that, bellezza. I wish this all could have happened a million other ways. But I thought after all that after you offered to save me, that after I marked you, it would all be ok. It wasn’t until this morning that I knew for sure that I needed more help. And I should have told you, but you’ve been carrying so much this whole time that I couldn’t put another thing on you. At least not while you were still weak.”
“Can he cure you?” you asked, dodging his confession.
“He is the only man I’d trust with the job.”
You nodded once. “Don’t ever hide anything from me ever again.”
Thank you so much for reading and all your likes, reblogs and comments 💜 The next chapter will be the end of vampire Terzo's story, but some familiar faces will return as well. 💜💜💜
Please let me know if you would like to be added to the tag list 👻
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limitlesslfgt · 10 months ago
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Lui era lì, così sottile e delicato e facile a spezzarsi, eppure così forte, nella sua giovanile bellezza, era lì in un mantello bianco e nastri verdi.
IL BUCANEVE, H. C. Andersen
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There he was, so thin and delicate and easy to break, yet so strong, in his youthful beauty, there he was in a white cloak and green ribbons.
THE SNOWDROP, H. C. Andersen
@guimplen ph courtesy
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diceriadelluntore · 9 months ago
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Storia Di Musica #314 - Susan Tedeschi, Live From Austin TX, 2004
Le storie di chitarre femminili di febbraio volevano sviluppare, lo ricordo per questo ultimo appuntamento, una questione che avevo sentito per radio (ho recuperato pure i particolare): durante la trasmissione Morning Glory di Virgin Radio, condotta da Alteria, alla domanda "quale sarebbe il tuo mestiere dei sogni" una giovane ascoltatrice scrisse "diventare una famosissima chitarrista, perchè non c'è ne sono". Alteria, che è anche musicista, ha subito cercato di smentire, ricordando Sister Rosetta Tharpe, la grandissima blueswoman e cantante gospel degli anni '30-'60 del 1900. Tuttavia, e alla fine di questo percorso che è sempre anche un'occasione per imparare qualcosa di nuovo, sono arrivato alla conclusione che, dal punto di visto della fama e della riconoscibilità, aveva ragione l'ascoltatrice, non c'è mai stata per gli indicatori appena descritti una chitarrista riconoscibile come Hendrix, Blackmore o Jack White, per citare tre chitarristi di epoche differenti. Allo stesso tempo, non vuol dire che non ci siano state chitarriste tecnicamente e musicalmente eccezionali, e le scelte di Febbraio 2024 sono solo un antipasto di un viaggio che lascerà deliziati chi vorrà continuarlo. Per concludere la carrellata, oggi vi porto a Norwell, Massachusetts, dove all'interno di una famiglia di origini italiani, i Tedeschi (che sono facoltosi, proprietari di una famosa catena di supermercato in tutto lo stato) nasce nel 1970 Susan. Sin da piccola è un prodigio nelle recite e a sei anni ha una piccola parte in un Musical itinerante che una compagnia locale porta in giro nella contea. Cresce in mezzo ai dischi, e per quelle strane ascendenze del gusto, si appassiona ai ritmi e alle atmosfere del blues. Susan Tedeschi frequenta il Berklee College, come Emily Remler (la prima protagonista delle storie di Febbraio) e si specializza in canto gospel e a 20 anni si laurea. Ne ha pochi di più quando fonda la prima Susan Tedeschi Band, con Adrienne Hayes, Jim Lamond e Mike Aiello che, dopo una fondamentale gavetta nel locali di Boston e dintorni, vengono notati da un musicista e produttore, Tom Hambridge (che vincerà nella sua carriera 7 Grammy Awards), che li mette sotto contratto per la piccola etichetta Tone Cool e produce il primo disco, che per scelta sua vedrà a luce solo a nome Susan Tedeschi: Just Won't Burn del 1998 è un grandissimo debutto, con la seconda chitarra di Sean Costello (uno dei più grandi talenti chitarristici di quegli anni, stroncato a 28 anni da complicanze della sua dipendenza dalla droga) che ha due hit da classifica in Rock Me Right e It Hurt So Bad, scritte con Hambridge. Il disco venderà tantissimo per un disco blues di una piccola etichetta, 500 mila copie, e porterà Susan Tedeschi a suonare per gente come John Mellencamp, B.B. King, Buddy Guy, The Allman Brothers Band, Taj Mahal e Bob Dylan. Nel 2003 apre quasi tutti i concerti americani del Licks Tour di un certo gruppo inglese, appena arrivato ai 40 anni di attività, i Rolling Stones, acquisendo una fama crescente, anche per le sue meravigliose qualità artistiche, che penso si esprimano al meglio nel disco di oggi.
È chiamata, per la terza volta, ad esibirsi per l'Austin City Limits, uno dei programmi musicali più famosi degli Stati Uniti, che trasmette un concerto dal vivo di 60 minuti sui canali della PBS, che è la televisione pubblica negli USA. Insieme a lei, William Green all'organo Hammond, Jason Crosby alle tastiere, violino e ai cori, Ron Perry al basso e Jeff Sipe alla batteria. Live In Austin TX esce nel 2004 ed è un delizioso esempio di classe e maestria musicale: la chitarra e la voce di Susan giganteggiano, senza mai strafare, ma lasciando evidenti tocchi di bellezza (tra l'altro vi invito a fare caso alla differenza che ha la sua voce quando canta e quando, quasi timida, ringrazia con un Thank You gli applausi). E la sua chitarra è una espressione di questa dolcezza: mai ossessiva, ma affilata e precisa, con assoli eleganti e morbidi, accompagnati da inserimenti degli altri strumenti. In scaletta pezzi del suo repertorio solista (It Hurt So Bad, la sofferta I Fell In Love, Wrapped In The Arms Of Another), altri scritti per lei (The Feeling Music Brings dal futuro marito Derek Tucks) ma soprattutto una meravigliosa collezione di cover, dove viene fuori il suo canto di impostazione gospel e tutto il suo talento: You Can Make It If You Try di Sly And The Family Stone, Gonna Move di Paul Pena, Alone di Tommy Sims (che produsse Streets Of Philadelphia di Bruce Springsteen), Love's in Need Of Love Today di Stevie Wonder e un suo cavallo di battaglia, sia su disco che dal vivo, Angel From Montgomery di John Prine, che è così strettamente identificata con Bonnie Riatt, altra grandiosa cantante e chitarrista, il cui testimone è preso da Tedeschi in questo senso. C'è il soul di Voodoo Woman di Koki Taylor, uno strumentale meraviglioso come Hampmotized e c'è la cover più bella e sentita di Don't Think It Twice, It's All Right di Bob Dylan: la versione originale del grande di Duluth era basata su un folk tradizionale, Who's Gonna Buy You Ribbons When I'm Gone?, e riprendeva un verso da una rielaborazione dello stesso brano fatta da Paul Clayton, che rititolò il brano Who's Gonna Buy Your Chickens When I'm Gone. Il brano ha una leggenda in sé: si dice che fu scritto da un giovane Dylan (il brano fa parte del leggendario The Freewheelin' Bob Dylan del 1963) preoccupato e "geloso" del fatto che la vacanza della sua allora fidanzata, Suzie Rotolo (che è la ragazza che appre nella copertina dello stesso disco a braccetto con lui), in Italia si stesse allungando troppo, immaginando quindi come sarebbe stato raccontare un litigio. In realtà come scrisse Nat Hentoff nel libretto originale (Hentoff è stato critico musicale del Village Voice per 51 anni) è probabilmente il primo degli innumerevoli "discorsi con sè" di Dylan, "un'affermazione che magari puoi dire per sentirti meglio… come se stessi parlando da solo". l'arrangiamento slow blues di Tedeschi è fantastico, con il violino e l'organo Hammond, e diventerà per anni uno dei momenti più attesi dei suoi concerti.
Concerti che saranno sempre il fulcro principale della sua attività, soprattutto dopo l'incontro, prima sentimentale e poi artistico, con Derek Trucks, altro chitarrista formidabile, erede della dinastia Allman Brothers, con cui formerà dal 2010 una Tedeschi Trucks Band, vincendo nel 2012 un Grammy con il disco Revelator. Una grande artista e un'altra grande chitarra da scoprire.
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thebeautycove · 2 months ago
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OMANLUXURY - OUD AQUILARIA - Main Collection - Eau de Parfum -
Imagination is more important than knowledge. For knowledge is limited, whereas imagination embrace the entire world, stimulating progress, giving birth to evolution. The true sign of intelligence is not knowledge but imagination. Logic will get you from A to B. Imagination will take you everywhere.
This is it. The primary mission of Oud Aquilaria, push imagination beyond limits. This masterpiece is welcoming you in the enchanting dimension of unique notes, masterfully blended to fulfill senses in the most luxurious memorable way. Imagine.
.
Oud Aquilaria di OmanLuxury è l’essenza del desiderio che accende l’immaginazione, il luogo dove vorresti essere, l’orizzonte che amerai scrutare tra dune e boschi di Aquilaria, un opulento rituale iniziatico che sollecita i sensi a riconoscere e preservare nel tempo il valore della bellezza.
Luce d’oro liquido per questo oud sofisticato e misterioso che Dominique Ropion racchiude in uno scenario olfattivo di rara complessità e armonia. 
Dinamico l’incipit che lascia emergere i toni aromatici di pepe rosa e rosmarino aprendo lentamente alla gloriosa stratificazione di un accordo floral green con una raffinata rosa damascena sporcata da un hint vegetale fruttato di mela verde, da mordere con zelo.
Intrepido accostamento che rivela un’energia ammaliante di eleganza superior standard concessa senza parsimonia per, chiaro a dirsi, provocare dipendenza.
Semplice e inevitabile poi cedere alla lusinga di questo magnifico oud, magnetico e senza eccessi, caldo e generoso di squisite variazioni olfattive boisé balmy smokey, infine accolto e sublimato nell’ampio manto di ambra e patchouli.
Capolavoro. E molti concordano.
Creata da Dominique Ropion.
Eau de Parfum 100 ml. Online qui
©thebeautycove  @igbeautycove
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lunamagicablu · 18 days ago
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"Possano le scintille della bellezza di Dio danzare negli occhi di coloro che amiamo. Possa l'universo essere in fiamme con la Presenza per noi in questo giorno. Possa il nuovo sole che sorge graziarci con gratitudine. Che il verde della terra brilli e le sue acque respirino con lo Spirito. Che i venti del cielo agitino il terreno della nostra anima e nuovi risvegli sorgano dentro di noi. Possano i potenti angeli della luce brillare in tutte le cose in questo giorno. Possano chiamarci alla riverenza, possano chiamarci alla vita." John Philip Newell, Pregare con la Terra art _by_handsofshame ***************************** "May the sparks of God's beauty dance in the eyes of those we love. May the universe be on fire with Presence for us this day. May the new sun's rising grace us with gratitude. Let earth's greenness shine and its waters breathe with Spirit. Let heaven's winds stir the soil of our soul and fresh awakenings rise within us. May the mighty angels of light glisten in all things this day. May they summon us to reverence, may the call us to life." John Philip Newell, Praying with the Earth art _by_handsofshame 
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anchesetuttinoino · 7 months ago
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Mark Zuckerberg, nuovo yacht da 300 milioni: lungo 118 metri, 48 membri di equipaggio, campo da basket ed eliporto
(voi mettetevi il pannellino solare sul tetto, fatevi la casa green e andate al lavoro in monopattino, altrimenti surriscaldate il pianeta...)
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The Magic of Street-Side Trees. Beauty, Coolness, and Urban Prosperity.
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The beauty, coolness, and urban prosperity brought by street-side trees.
Trees lining urban streets are integral elements of the urban landscape, serving multiple ecological roles and socio-economic functions. In general, incorporating trees along the roads in urban areas can elevate the aesthetic appeal, regulate temperatures, and foster prosperity growth. And if our goal is to enhance the role of cities in driving economic growth and fully utilizing human resources, then we must prioritize making tangible improvements to urban environments.
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Trees are crucial components for creating appealing and hospitable urban environments that enhance citizens' psychological and social well-being. They play a vital role in reducing air temperature and humidity, which helps alleviate the effects of heat waves and global warming. Trees bear witness to the history, culture, and identity of cities, which they preserve and pass on to future generations. In addition to their undeniable beauty, trees are valuable allies in the fight against climate change.
They provide a range of local benefits that are often ignored beyond the global role of absorbing carbon dioxide. This article aims to increase awareness among readers about the importance of trees for cities and the planet. It seeks to motivate all of us to value, preserve, and protect the urban tree heritage through a participatory and accountable manner that involves citizens and institutions.
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Street-side trees are more than just beautiful to look at. They are an essential resource for cities, providing numerous benefits to residents' health, well-being, and quality of life. In their article on Monocolo, Paolo Massi and Giulia Papaleo highlight the main advantages of trees in urban areas. La magia degli alberi lungo le strade. Bellezza, frescura e prosperità urbana
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Among the benefits that trees bring to the urban environment, we can mention:
Trees perform ecological, social, and economic functions that contribute to the well-being and development of cities. They help to reduce air pollution by capturing particles, filtering harmful gases, and producing oxygen. Trees also absorb carbon from the atmosphere and store it in their wood, making them beneficial for climate change mitigation. Additionally, trees create shade, cool the air, and reduce energy consumption for cooling buildings. They prevent flooding, improve water quality, and increase biodiversity by providing shelter and food for many species. Trees enhance the urban landscape, mitigate noise, and even increase the value of properties.
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Moreover, they promote physical and mental health by stimulating physical activity, reducing stress, and improving mood and concentration.
Therefore, roadside trees are a valuable resource for cities and their inhabitants. It is critical to protect, care for, and increase them through various means, such as public policies, private actions, and guaranteed maintenance over time, recognizing their fundamental role in the quality of urban life so that maintenance, which develops jobs, in particular, is 'guaranteed' over time,
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Urban forestation and eco-neighborhoods.
Urban forestation refers to designing and creating green spaces in urban and peri-urban areas to incorporate nature into the landscape. It is important to both develop new green spaces and enhance existing ones.
Eco-neighborhoods serve as an example of sustainable and livable urban environments. They are designed considering the environment and the health of their residents. Sustainability principles are followed to improve the landscape and economic assets of the urban context. The design of an environmentally sustainable neighborhood aims to reduce its environmental impact during construction, throughout its life cycle, and even during decommissioning while prioritizing the comfort of its residents. These neighborhoods are built to improve people's quality of life by emphasizing energy conservation, renewable energy, environmentally friendly materials, reducing water and waste consumption, and promoting sustainable mobility. They are tangible parts of the city that contribute to the well-being of its inhabitants.
In addition, urban forestation is another example of how urban environments can be made more livable and sustainable. We can seamlessly blend nature into the urban landscape by integrating street trees, gardens, and parks. They represent elements of nature that help purify the air we breathe, capturing pollutants, storing carbon, and mitigating the climate of cities.
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In summary, street-side trees are not just a decorative element but a proper green infrastructure that improves the quality of urban life. Therefore, It is vital to encourage planting, caring for, and preserving trees in urban areas, with the participation of government institutions, businesses, and residents, in order to achieve a shared vision to promote sustainable progress.
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🟠 Italiano
Intro
Gli alberi sono elementi essenziali per creare paesaggi urbani attraenti e accoglienti, che favoriscono il benessere psicologico e sociale dei cittadini. contribuiscono a ridurre la temperatura e l'umidità dell'aria, mitigando gli effetti delle ondate di calore e del riscaldamento globale. Essi sono testimoni della storia, della cultura e dell'identità delle città, che conservano e trasmettono alle generazioni future. Alleati nella lotta ai cambiamenti climatici, oltre alla loro innegabile bellezza offrono una serie di benefici locali che spesso tendiamo a trascurare (al di là dei benefici globali di assorbimento dell’anidride carbonica). Questo articolo quindi ha lo scopo di sensibilizzare i lettori sull'importanza degli alberi per le città e per il pianeta, invitandoli a conoscere, apprezzare e tutelare il patrimonio arboreo urbano coinvolgendo i cittadini e le istituzioni in un processo partecipativo e responsabile.
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La magia degli alberi lungo le strade. Bellezza, frescura e prosperità urbana.
Gli alberi sono una risorsa preziosa per le città, non solo per il loro contributo alla mitigazione dei cambiamenti climatici, ma anche per i molteplici benefici che apportano alla salute, al benessere e alla qualità della vita dei cittadini. In questo articolo del Monocolo gli autori Paolo Massi e Giulia Papaleo, vogliono illustrare alcuni dei principali vantaggi che gli alberi offrono alle aree urbane e alle persone che le abitano. La magia degli alberi lungo le strade. Bellezza, frescura e prosperità urbana
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La magia degli alberi lungo le strade dunque non si limita alla loro estetica. Gli alberi sono elementi essenziali per il benessere e lo sviluppo delle città, in quanto svolgono funzioni ecologiche, sociali ed economiche. Tra i vantaggi che gli alberi apportano all'ambiente urbano, possiamo citare:
Riduzione dell'inquinamento atmosferico: gli alberi catturano le particelle sospese nell'aria, filtrano i gas nocivi e producono ossigeno.
Mitigazione del cambiamento climatico: gli alberi assorbono il carbonio dall'atmosfera e lo immagazzinano nel loro legno, contribuendo a ridurre l'effetto serra.
Regolazione termica: gli alberi creano ombra e rinfrescano l'aria attraverso la traspirazione, diminuendo la temperatura e il consumo energetico per il raffreddamento degli edifici.
Conservazione del suolo e dell'acqua: gli alberi riducono l'erosione del suolo, aumentano la sua capacità di infiltrazione e ritardano il deflusso delle acque piovane, prevenendo le inondazioni e migliorando la qualità dell'acqua.
Incremento della biodiversità: gli alberi offrono rifugio e cibo a molte specie animali e vegetali, arricchendo la diversità biologica delle città.
Valorizzazione del paesaggio urbano: gli alberi creano scenari naturali, armonizzano l'architettura, attenuano il rumore e aumentano il valore immobiliare delle proprietà.
Promozione della salute e del benessere umano: gli alberi favoriscono la salute fisica e mentale delle persone, stimolando l'attività fisica, riducendo lo stress, migliorando l'umore e la concentrazione.
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Gli alberi e le aiuole a verde lungo le strade sono quindi una risorsa preziosa per le città e i loro abitanti. Per questo motivo, è importante proteggerli, curarli e incrementarli, attraverso politiche pubbliche e azioni private che ne riconoscano il ruolo fondamentale per la qualità della vita urbana affinché la manutenzione, che sviluppa posti di lavoro, in particolare venga 'garantita' nel tempo.
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La forestazione urbana e gli ecoquartieri
Con il termine forestazione urbana si intende la progettazione e lo sviluppo di aree verdi urbane e periurbane, facendo della natura un'importante protagonista di questo paesaggio. Chiaramente è importante non solo progettare e sviluppare nuove aree verdi, ma anche rivalorizzare e riappropriarsi di quelle esistenti.
Certo! Gli ecoquartieri sono un esempio di ambienti urbani sostenibili e vivibili. Sono quartieri costruiti nel rispetto dell’equilibrio ambientale e della salute delle persone che vi abitano. Sono conformi ai principi della sostenibilità e puntano alla valorizzazione del patrimonio paesaggistico ed economico del contesto urbano in cui sono inseriti. La progettazione di un quartiere ecosostenibile punta a ridurne l’impatto ambientale: dalla fase di costruzione, al ciclo di vita, fino alla sua dismissione, senza mai dimenticare il comfort di chi lo vive. Si tratta di vere e proprie porzioni di città edificate con l’obiettivo di innalzare il livello di qualità della vita e sono realizzate ponendo l’accento su: risparmio energetico; uso delle energie rinnovabili e di materiale ecologico; riduzione del consumo di acqua e di rifiuti; promozione della mobilità sostenibile.
Inoltre, la forestazione urbana è un altro esempio di come gli ambienti urbani possono essere resi più vivibili e sostenibili. Le alberature stradali, i giardini e i parchi urbani rappresentano degli elementi di natura che contribuiscono a purificare l’aria che respiriamo, catturando sostanze inquinanti, immagazzinando carbonio e mitigando il clima delle città.
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Come si può notare, gli alberi lungo le strade non sono solo un elemento decorativo, ma una vera e propria infrastruttura verde che migliora la qualità della vita urbana. Per questo motivo, è importante promuovere la piantumazione, la manutenzione e la protezione degli alberi nelle città, coinvolgendo le amministrazioni pubbliche, le imprese e i cittadini in una visione condivisa di sviluppo sostenibile.
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images created by The Board Behind © 2023
More related topics on this matter you might like:
Landscape Architecture: self-reflection on improving and enhancing our cities' run-down suburbs. English /Italian
Give color to the city to celebrate the joy of living.
I appreciate your kind presence and attention on this matter. Thank you for joining us today.
⏩ The Board Behind
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thegianpieromennitipolis · 2 years ago
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Da: SGUARDI SULL'ARTE LIBRO TERZO - di Gianpiero Menniti
MARK ROTHKO
Giallo.  Grigio.  Rosso.  Azzurro. Segni di luce. Ma ogni immagine è connotata da una presenza figurata: se questa mancasse, il colore diverrebbe un abisso spaventoso. In quel baratro luminoso e oscuro, volse lo sguardo un artista visionario, esule, lacerato, alla ricerca di una solitudine di purezza e di verità. Di vita.  Oltre la vita. Fino all'estremo. Come ogni ricerca è necessario che sia. Vuota dell'ultimo tratto, fuggevole, impossibile.  Come nei versi di Charles Baudelaire, "A una passante", 1855:
«Un lampo... poi la notte! Bellezza fugace, il cui sguardo m'ha ridato vita a un tratto, nell'eternità solamente potrò rivederti?»
I dipinti sono opere di Mark Rothko (1903-1970): 
- "No. 207", 1961 
- "Blue, Green, and Brown", 1952 
- "Number 12", 1960 
- "Violet, Black, Orange, Yellow on White and Red", 1949 
- "Purple, White, and Red", 1953 
- "No. 301", 1959
In copertina: Maria Casalanguida, "Bottiglie e cubetto", 1975, collezione privata
  #gianpieromenniti #arte #artecontemporanea #rothko #markrothko
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fiat500nelmondo · 11 months ago
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Affari Sbullonati: Fiat 500 d'epoca elettrica retrofit in mostra
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Scoprite come Affari Sbullonati ha creato una Fiat 500 d'epoca elettrica retrofit, unendo tradizione e sostenibilità.
In un mondo che cerca soluzioni sostenibili, il retrofitting (la trasformazione da auto a motore termico in auto a motore elettrico) emerge come una scelta entusiasmante. Affari Sbullonati ha abbracciato questa sfida, trasformando la classica Fiat 500 d'epoca in un'opera d'arte elettrica. A differenza di altri progetti simili, il motore è stato montato direttamente sul differnziale, rimuovendo il cambio, in questo modo si è semplificato ulteriormente il progetto guadagnando leggerezza e spazio. Il Progetto Elettrico di Affari Sbullonati "Eccola ragazzi, la Fiat 500 d'epoca elettrica di Affari Sbullonati" inizia così il video che mostra il retrofit della Cinquecento Jolly usata per questo progetto. Silenziosa e raffinata, la 500 elettrica conserva l'aspetto originale ma nasconde un cuore innovativo.
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Dettagli Tecnici della Trasformazione Questa autovettura ora ospita un motore elettrico da 48V e 4 kW, che garantisce un'autonomia di circa 70-80 km, ideale per il diletto in Beach Resort o proprietà private. "Guardate che bellezza ragazzi, tutto veramente assemblato in maniera fantastica," si sente nel video mentre vengono mostrate le celle al litio e il sistema di gestione della batteria.
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Motore elettrico da 48V e 4 kW, notare l'assenza del cambio e l'ampio spazio guadagnato. Rispetto per la Tradizione Uno degli aspetti più notevoli di questa Fiat 500 d'epoca elettrica è il rispetto per l'integrità originale della vettura. All'interno, il cruscotto storico è stato mantenuto, mentre sono stati aggiunti un nuovo acceleratore elettrico e un selettore per le marce. Questa trasformazione non solo è ecologica, ma anche reversibile: "I punti di ancoraggio sono stati tenuti quelli originali, quindi basta smontare queste tre piastre, rimontate il termico senza modifica per la macchina originale"
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Batterie al litio, regolatori e trasformatore di alimentazione posti nel vano anteriore Un Passo Verso il Futuro Questa Fiat 500 d'epoca elettrica non è solo un tributo al passato, ma anche un passo verso un futuro sostenibile attraverso il retrofit. "Affari Sbullonati ha fatto un lavoro fantastico, pulito e raffinato," afferma il video, sottolineando l'importanza di un'innovazione che rispetta sia la storia che l'ambiente.
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Selettore direzione al posto della leva del cambio Un grande problema Il kit di Affari Sbullonati è molto semplice. Tuttavia è proposto solo al mercato estero perché in Italia al momento, non è possibile l’omologazione dal momento che la legge sul retrofit non autorizza tale kit (deve essere mantenuto il cambio che in questo caso è stato eliminato in quanto non necessario) E' incredibile come non ci sia l’opportunità di installare questi kit elettrici e green, dagli unici venduti dalle due aziende leader autorizzate. In conclusione, la Fiat 500 d'epoca elettrica di Affari Sbullonati è una testimonianza della possibilità di unire la passione per le auto classiche con l'impegno verso un futuro più verde. Cosa ne pensate di questa straordinaria fusione tra passato e futuro? La Fiat 500 elettrica potrebbe essere il simbolo di una nuova era per la mobilità? Cosa ci dite sul problema dell'impossibilità di omologare questa vettura?
Gli ultimi articoli pubblicati su Fiat 500 nel mondo
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t-annhauser · 2 years ago
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Assuefazione
Che poi non è nemmeno il problema del consumismo in sé, che può sempre dar occasione a moralismi perbenisti e quaccheri, il punto è che si avverte una certa fatica da parte dell'economia di mercato di creare quei nuovi bisogni che vanno periodicamente ad alimentare una domanda che, dal canto suo, si trascina stancamente da tempo come può. Ultima in ordine di apparizione, l'economia green, che già di per sé allude a una decrescita, a una contrazione dei bisogni con margini di guadagno sempre più risicati, e dall'altra parte la creazione di bisogni immateriali che comportano grandi campagne di persuasione volte a magnificare la bellezza del gioco del calcio o delle serie tv. L'impressione è che ci si avvicini sempre più a un punto critico in cui all'offerta di beni e servizi non corrisponderà più la capacità, o anche solo la volontà, di acquistarli. I grandi cervelli che dirigono l'economia mondiale hanno davanti a sé un bel problema, creare economia e necessità di consumo in un mondo ormai assuefatto a tutto, chi vivrà vedrà, sempre che abbia conservato gli occhi per piangere.
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