FOUNDATION 2.08 The Last Empress
[ reach ] sender hesitantly reaches for receiver's hand, unsure if the action will be reciprocated — @darkdevour
as the most silkiest of touches brushes against her own fingertips, a soft gasp escapes out of her pink lips, the brightest of orbs bounce to her dearest friend, who had the most wonderful lovely expression that heated her soul. a shiver ran down sera's spine, wrapping her own digits around the woman's hand, firmly. "are we flirting?"
a very thin garment of a dress hangs loosely upon her shoulders, the right shoulder of the strap fallen upon her sun kissed skin while she twists against the many layers of their blankets and elain, all the while keeping her beloved book close to eye level, never once missing a word. even as elain makes her breathless. the way her thick plump lips crosses along her thigh, a hitch of her breath— a bite of her lip, sera dares steal a glance at her seer, she has to bite back a moan at the sight of the women between her legs. the ancient one can't help the sound coming from her mouth, an ache, begging, demanding. "what do you think sweetheart?"
continued from here,
elain's fingers pull back the thin fabric of sera's dress. unable to deny how beautiful she looks as sunlight streams through the delicate drapery hanging from the windows. the seer is unaccustomed to finding @faempry reading in the late afternoon, let alone tempting elain from her own bed. she hears the slight murmur of want as if it's a siren song. she would never dare to stop. lips place kisses in a trail, moving further up until there is an end in sight. a glistening calls elain to brush the backs of her fingers against sera with a feather light touch, a hum of delight when she's greeted with undeniable arousal. "is it your book that's doing this to you?" she teases, "or something else?"
some verses that i want to have plots for:
vampire king. think of lucien like dracula. the last of us/end of the world. think lucien having a large manner that has a huge bunker from his family. modern world. think of lucien being in a big powerful company, living his life the way he wants too. modern world 2.0. think of lucien in a rock/metal band but secretly adores playing the violin. acotar 2.0. lucien completely leaves prythian to the human lands. + lucien in any other worlds. such as fourth wing, bridgerton, got, star wars.
Virginia Woolf, A Passionate Apprentice: The Early Journals, 1897-1909
𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐑𝐏 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 . . . ( pt 3. the first admission ) Moments of hesitation, breathless confessions, and the weight of words finally spoken ✧ ˚₊ Themes: vulnerability, tension, relief & the fear of ruining everything
✧ › 𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐎𝐔𝐒 & 𝐒𝐎𝐅𝐓
My muse stumbles over their words, finally managing to say, “I… I think I’ve been in love with you for a while.”
My muse fidgets with their hands, avoiding your muse’s gaze as they whisper, “Do you ever think about us? Like… more than just friends?”
My muse lets it slip without thinking, eyes widening as they murmur, “God, I love you—” then freeze.
My muse bites their lip, hesitates, then finally sighs, “I don’t know how to say this, but… I think you mean more to me than you should.”
My muse confesses in a quiet moment, looking down, “I don’t need you to say anything back, I just… needed you to know.”
My muse shakes their head with a soft laugh. “It’s ridiculous, really. I was scared to tell you because… I didn’t want to lose you.”
✧ › 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐓 & 𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍
My muse snaps in frustration, “Do you really not see it? How much I—” then stops, realizing what they almost said.
My muse confesses in a moment of desperation, gripping your muse’s wrist as they plead, “Just… tell me I don’t have a chance, and I’ll stop.”
My muse looks away, voice barely above a whisper. “If I tell you, everything changes. And I don’t know if I can handle that.”
My muse confesses in a reckless moment, pulling your muse close. “I should’ve said it sooner. I should’ve told you before it was too late.”
My muse breaks the silence with a strained voice. “I don’t want to pretend anymore. I can’t keep acting like I don’t—like I don’t feel this way.”
My muse clenches their fists, staring at the ground. “I’m in love with you. I have been for years. And it’s killing me.”
✧ › 𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 & 𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅
My muse blurts out, “I think I—” then immediately shuts their mouth, cheeks burning.
My muse tries to play it off, laughing nervously. “I mean, it’s not like I—uh, you know, like you like you or anything—”
My muse nearly confesses but quickly backtracks. “It’s nothing. Forget I said anything.”
My muse starts to confess but gets interrupted, then panics, saying, “Never mind! Nothing important!”
My muse trips over their words, then just sighs in defeat. “Screw it. Yeah. I like you.”
✧ › 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 𝐈𝐍 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒
My muse whispers it against your muse’s skin, their breath warm. “I’ve wanted to say this for so long…”
My muse confesses as they tend to your muse’s wounds, their hands gentle. “You don’t get it, do you? I’d do anything for you.”
My muse leans in, voice barely audible. “Tell me I’m wrong. Tell me you don’t feel it too.”
My muse murmurs it in the dark, thinking your muse is asleep. “…I love you.”
My muse says it in the middle of laughter, their expression softening as realization dawns. “God, I love you.”
My muse admits it right before a goodbye, voice breaking. “I didn’t want to leave without telling you.”
.... upcoming ocs for acotar. thinking.... dawn, winter & summer for those three.