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jordanianroyals · 5 years ago

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Queen Noor Interview with Prestige issue 34, March 1996

Interviewed in Amman by CHRISTIANE Obeid | © Prestige / Bassam Lahoud

She captivates you with the strength of her charisma. Fascinates you by the scale of her projects. Meeting with Her Majesty in Jerash.

Amman Airport. Literally a welcoming committee, two people waiting, sent by the Royal Palace of Ma’wa, a third one by the Lebanese Embassy in Jordan. A first impression of Jordan: courtesy, discretion. Outside, the lights of a city that does not sleep. Alive. With white stone houses, architectural treasures. No skyscrapers but a latent desire for immensity. The next day, the same person, taciturn and kind, leads us to our first stop: Iraq Al Amir. An archaeological reconstructed village, restored, half an hour from Amman but already deeply immersed in tradition.

We have not yet met the Queen, but her work is marked everywhere. (Source)

Inside each house, a beehive of activity and a delicious freshness. Our mentor: Awni Quandour graduate of States and director of the center. Here, we weave with happiness, the millenary production of parchment paper is recovered…

Ramadan does not slow the activity of nawls under the impetus of the gay village girls. The presence of computers seems incongruous at first, but the tradition and modernity go together well. Our meeting with Jordan’s heritage extends to Jordan Design and Trade Center (JDTC). «Our goal is to continue to create, create every day, something different.» Statement of the director Claude Zumot, also a graduate in management from the States. And the designers of the Centre do not lack ideas. Originality of modern notes intended to complement the heritage of ancestors. Mosaic patterns on multiple works, delicately aesthetic convolutions of a glass, traced vows on Salsal ceramics. We learn, with difficulty, to recognize the different bsat and call them by name because they have a name like any piece of art. From the peasants of Iraq Al Amir to Husseiniyé Bedouins, Jordan awakes to crafts, culture. Who gave the impetus? A queen so dedicated to her work that she offered us, instead of a traditional interview, to accompany her to Jerash. Historic city that has a large craft center. Departure from the Royal Palace of Ma ‘awa, on the hill of Nuzha.

At Jerash, in groups in front and inside of the Town Hall, the crowd waiting for their queen, their benefactress. It is there, fascinated, that we understand the scale of the project, the strength of her charisma, the extent of her love for Jordan, her commitment to the people that came to pay tribute to her.

Majesty, you are an architect; what is the contribution of your major in the successful implementation of your projects? I chose a major in Architecture and Urban Planning at the University of Princeton because it included several disciplines that were later a great asset to my work in Jordan. I discovered that in order to build for an individual or a community, we should understand their physical, social and spiritual needs and try to find solutions to those needs. In a sense, you can say that my major at the university helped me to become a «social architect».

«The woman can become a real economical force in her own community».

What distinguishes the Jordanian crafts from other countries? Jordanian designs reflect the richness of our history and are inspired by many ancient and contemporary cultures that flourished in Jordan. For example, the Nabataeans were famous for their fine ceramics they exported across the East. We produce Nabataean pottery style craft at the center of Salt that can be sold to tourists today.

On the other hand, the Bedouin style is very special because it produces «smooth-faced» because dense carpet; their texture is different from other styles. Our designers have also introduced for carpets and ceramic patterns inspired from mosaics. Embroidery items are typically Jordanian, eg Ma’ani point that had almost disappeared until the day the JDTC incorporated it again in its products. Another practice been forgotten and that we have revived the wheat wicker baskets woven by hand. Better, we established at Mukhaibeh a profitable project for the work of wicker wheat, palm leaves and banana …. On the other hand, the foundation provided women with new looms and spinning wheels to increase productivity. We have imposed a strict quality control from raw material to final product.

What are the main lines of craft projects? I would mainly say weaving and embroidery and ceramics, gems and paper.

Is there a contribution of the younger generation of the royal family to the revival of heritage? Several young members of the family support national programs for the preservation and promotion of the Jordanian heritage especially in the Jerash festival for art and culture and the National Music conservatory and projects for the Environment.

Majesty, what is the contribution of craft centers for the protection of historical monuments? Over the past decade, I have encouraged the development of these highly skilled centers in Jordan historic towns of archaeological sites to promote handicrafts and integrate the socio-economic development to tourism. In Iraq Al Amir you visited yesterday, a site dating from BC 2nd century, the Noor Al Hussein Foundation has renovated two farms and began the restoration of ten others. She plans to turn these farms in a craft village that preserve the cultural heritage of the region and would be linked to Hellenistic palace, which will encourage tourism and increase the economic benefit of the community. The foundation aims primarily to improve the quality of life of rural and urban poor communities through Jordan establishing intensive programs in the context of health, education, heritage, environment, volunteering and community involvement. I also encouraged the restoration of historic villages nearby archaeological sites such as Taybat Zaman, ten minutes from Petra. The Foundation and the Ministry of Tourism are working together for the upgrading of craft shops and tourist information centers.

As part of the craft revival, how do you assess environmental issues and what are your achievements in this area? I already mentioned the Mukhaibeh braiding project that symbolizes the effort deployed by the Foundation for integrating environmental issues into development projects. Before the Foundation initiated the project, the farmers there cut down and uprooted their palms, exploring other cultures. We have created a demand and as a result, farmers planted more palm trees! On the other hand, the JDTC working on water recycling project to reuse the water in the wool processing centers and dyeing south of Jordan. The JDTC also initiated profitable projects to the Dana Nature Reserve, in an abandoned village in the south. The historic stone houses have been restored and activities implemented. Currently the JDTC sells jewelry made in Dana, from semi-precious stones in the region.

Have most of the artistic and cultural projects been realized? Has the Foundation Noor AL Hussein realized its initial aspirations? Yes, the cultural activity of the Foundation is in full swing. Just after my marriage, I started with the invaluable help of Jordanian volunteers, the first Jerash Festival, today internationally recognized as a crossroads exchanges which contributed to the rebirth and revitalization of the cultural and artistic heritage. I also began during the early years of my marriage the Arab Children’s Congress, which brings together children from all parts of the Arab world in a climate of understanding, tolerance and solidarity. The National Conservatory of Music “founded in 1986, is the only one to have a children orchestra. Its annual program includes concerts, workshops and conferences as well as recitals that feature local and international musicians. Development project of the National Handicrafts, the JDTC and training center in Salt are three programs of the Noor Al Hussein Foundation. They were able to stimulate the revival of the craft heritage. Another project affiliated with the Foundation: the first Museum of Science for children, which helps them understand the ecological and scientific cycles of life. Children can touch and handle the exhibits to learn more on the development of Man through the ages, the natural history, geography, science, the environment, space and cultures in the world. We have also set up a museum of science, mobile, for children in rural areas. It focuses on health and hygiene, Science and Environmental Protection and the History of Jordan.

Your Majesty was there a few months ago at an international conference in Paris. How does the Foundation works as an intermediary between international and Jordanian institutions? We are associated with many UN and other organizations in the fields of education, the development of women and the community, the health, well-being of children, culture and heritage. The Foundation works with 30 different national and international non-governmental organizations to help them develop their plans, assist in attracting international funds and put their products on the market, especially abroad. Any foreign funding received by the Foundation is paid to the organization to which this fund is for.

At international carpet competition, a Jordanian rug Hweitat won first prize

Does the JDTC take part in major international exhibitions? Yes, the JDTC has exhibited its products in Europe, Paris and Frankfurt, and exposes once a year in Atlanta where one Hweitat rug has won the first prize at the International rug Competition. And twice a year in High Point, North Carolina, the largest furniture and decoration market of the United States.

Will handicraft be able one day to become a self-sufficient industry that will promote Jordanian art in the world? Craft centers are already self-sufficient. In addition, through its international exhibitions and marketing, JDTC has already introduced the Jordanian crafts in the world. The JDTC is primarily a national design and trade center that is not charged solely to promote the foundation products but also the works of various craft projects throughout the country.

Who oversees these centers? What is the common denominator? Is there not a danger of competition between different centers? Jordan is fortunate to have a wide variety of public and private craft centers with which JDTC works closely, either from a training perspective and product development or local or international marketing. The JDTC deploys every effort to reserve the rights to create products and designs to protect artisans. As for the craft centers of the Foundation, all of their directors are men or women from the same region, that the JDTC has recruited and trained to manage these centers. Those tend to specialize in different product lines at a time when the JDTC is creating «model centers».

To be engaged, should women initially have some skill? How the proposed development of the woman makes her a decision-maker? If a woman already has skills, it is more an asset but it is not a prerequisite for recruitment. The most important quality is the commitment, motivation. In addition, JDTC provides the necessary training, technical or managerial, and in that sense, the approach of the Foundation differs from the traditional and often ineffective approach, which merely provides material assistance to women.

The introduction of cost-effective programs, geared toward local and international markets, allows women to become a real economic force in the community. Her status and influence increase as well as the overall quality of life of the community, because a woman will often communicate her knowledge to her family. The training of women is therefore the fastest way to achieve positive change in development.

How are workers paid? Most artisans are paid according to the piece they realized, weavers are paid by meter and embroiderers per piece. As for center directors and some workers, they receive a monthly salary.

Which project of JDTC won the most of success? The projects of Nurha and Rimoun employing between 150 and 200 people are probably the most successful because both are completely independent. The JDTC initiated projects from scratch, providing all the training.

At present, the centers are self-managed and operated. Nurha, an embroidery center, has three other centers under its supervision. As the center of Rùnoun, it was established by the JDTC to help these women to acquire the skills and improve their standard of living while revitalizing the Jordanian crafts. The JDTC has also introduced an innovation: a 2 meters long loom which produces carpets covering a room previously almost non-existent in the Jordanian market.

How many people work at JDTC? Since its founding in 1990, 3,000 women and their families have benefited.

Do you have a special program for young people even not gifted in rural areas? Is university free of charge in Jordan? University is not free in Jordan, but the school is free up to college. The project that is particularly dear to me is the Jubilee School, high school for scholars from all parts of the country, particularly disadvantaged. It is dedicated to the development of intellectual potential of Jordanian students by providing a unique study method and curriculum based on their own needs, abilities and experiences. This school, in collaboration with private and public institutions, sponsors several courses and workshops for teachers and students throughout the country. Another project I have already mentioned is that of Salt which offers free training for three years in weaving, pottery and ceramics production, silk weaving, decoration and refresher courses for trainers. On the other hand, the SOS homes for boys and girls offer Vocation courses for children and, in collaboration with the SOS villages in Amman and Aqaba, creating a warm family atmosphere for orphans and abandoned children.

«My studies at Princeton University helped me to become a social architect»

Regarding the educational projects for children in rural areas, in addition to the mobile museum that I have already mentioned, the Foundation works closely in partnership with local authorities and private voluntary groups to establish clubs for children across Jordan. They meet the recreational, cultural, artistic needs of the younger. The Foundation also supports the creation of child care centers and nursery in the villages where these «quality of life» projects are implemented.

Majesty, your dream is the children’s hospital. What steps have been taken for its realization? The National Hospital for Children is a project that the people of Jordan have long dreamed of. Once completed, we hope that this hospital will be the first of the Kingdom to provide for tertiary medical care, secondary and some primary care for children aged 0 to 16 years. This establishment will be accessible to all economic classes of the population. The hospital will not only be a pediatric center but also an educational center for pediatric, surgical, dental hygiene and combined scientific disciplines. It will also include a center for the evaluation of child development and treatment of cerebral palsy and also present an extensive program guide for the family. The Institute for Health and Child Development is the first and only local specialized in assessing and monitoring the growth and development of the child. It will be affiliated with the hospital and serve the local community.

Majesty, you like to photograph. Have you organized an exhibition of your work? Unfortunately not, but this is a project that deserves reflection!

#Queen Noor #interview

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zeciex · 6 years ago

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Obsidian & Angelite Ch. 15

Oya has spend centuries bound to one single plot of land when one day a stranger with a voice of velvet and presence that can only be described as dark and outmost interesting. He comes with an offer she can’t refuse and suddenly her entire world changes, both for better and worse.

But what does Langdon need of her? And how can she use him to get what she want? Maybe they’re bound by something bigger than fate.

Warning: Dark themes, Strong Language, Sex (oral and penetrative), cream pie.

A/N: Since tumblr kills everything with links, I’ll reblog this post with the links to previous chapters and archive link

Stripped at the Gate and Thrown to the Fire

Michael watched her with his hands folded over his chest, leaning against the wall while his eyes followed her erratic movements. Oya paced around placing herbs and candles and stones just the right way in the mall room. At one moment she’s on her knees making sure the stones weren’t out of order so they wouldn’t screw up the ritual, the next she was at the other end of the room standing on the tip of her toes reaching to place a candle on the shelf cut into the limestone walls.

Of course none of it was needed, his ritual and magic didn’t rely on magical stones or garden herbs, his powers extended further than that. But he couldn’t bring himself to stop her, not when she felt that this would not only protect her but also lessen the blow. In reality, it was a way for her to feel in control in a situation where she’d give up any control she had to him.

And so he didn’t object but rather found amusement in it. Oya picked up chalk and began drawing symbols on the walls.

“Are you sure this is necessary?” she asked even though she already knew the answer.

“Yes,” he answered her with a chuckle. To him, the drawing she made looked like a man with a broken back yelling to the gods of his misfortune. Whatever it was supposed to help with he didn’t know. He could feel her unease, it lingered in the air around her, a nervousness and reluctance. Who could really blame her?

“I don’t like the idea of being left defenseless,” Oya grumbled kneeling on the other side of the room to draw new symbols. This time he recognized it as Scandinavian but still the meaning of it eluded him.

Michael let out a breathy laugh shaking his head full of golden strands. “I don’t think you’d ever be defenseless. It’s not in you.”

Oya wanted to answer him, to scoff a ‘you leave me defenseless’ but she was afraid they’d both puke all over the pentagram at their feet and Satan might not be as lenient to lend a hand in the future. Instead, she narrowed her eyes at him, shaking her head quietly before returning to draw a broken circle around what looked like fucked up letters.

“Where would I go, if I died?” She asked with a morbid interest. Michael frowned behind her, finding her question worrying but also a jab towards his abilities to keep her safe. Disregarding the needles she felt picking at her back and the small silent huff Michael let out, she continued. “If I die as a human would I go to your hell or would I end up in the underworld?”

Oya turned, still crouched down to observe his face. Michaels' eyes had turned darker and more thoughtful. His arms were still folded, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up revealing the soft skin of his forearms and the shadow of veins running over them. Silence settled around them, the nervousness that wrapped around her like a veil seemingly growing.

The silence was broken by Michael drawing in a big breath, pushing off the wall and walking towards Oya’s crouched body, towering over her moments before coming down to her level to take her face in his hands, brushing stray hairs out of her face. His eyes were determined.

“If you die I’d come and get you wherever you are, be it hell or the underworld or the fucking heavens! I would come get you,” he assured her, his voice dark and rumbling with the same drawl she had grown fond of. There was a devotion to his words that she had never experienced before, one that was annoyed she’d ever think he’d leave in death but also wanted to reassure her that he was as much in this as she was. The risk was steep, hundreds of possibilities could lead to her death when she was nothing but human and that was what she was worried about, and what he was willing to put on the line.

“I think we can agree I won’t be going to heaven, but the sentiment is noted and appreciated. It’s good to know you’d walk right up and punch god in the face to get me back,” she said and flashed him a reassuring smile. The man before her shook his head at the picture she pained, the tension that had worked its way into his shoulders loosened. “I’m just curious, devil-boy. As a human were would I go?”

Michael pursed his lips in thought mirroring her mood, “Hell. You wouldn’t be touched by your magic so your soul would most likely wind up there.”

Oya turned back to her scribbles, letting Michael stand watch over her. He understood her worry, the fear of putting her life into his hands with no control left for herself. But he also felt gratified that she’d do so. There was a power in it, a rush that was undeniable. Still, all he wanted was her trust, both in him and his vision for the future.

“It’s done,” she said, placing the chalk on the floor and brushing off her hands before rising and feeling a rush of blood go to her head. Within her chest, her heart picked up speed, adrenalin beginning to tickle its way through her system. Michael took her hand and helped her into the middle of the pentagram. Caught between her teeth was her bottom lip that was ruthlessly nawled at in anticipation, worry.

With ease Oya settled down on the pentagram, opening her robe to reveal the soft skin beneath, her chest heaving with each breath she took and her nipples hardening against the cold air in the room. Beside her Michael kneeled down, eyes running over her sun touched skin, its feel familiar and reminiscent tinkering at his fingertips.

In this room where he first saw her, where he first had her, where he released her from her binding cage, would also be where he traps her once more with a cage so golden no magic of hers would be left behind.

Michael wrapped his finger around the blade, letting its cling scrape against the stone before lifting it off. Oya peeked up at him, her chest arching off the stone in deep breaths that edged out some of her bones. It made her look fragile, this thin little form placed upon a blood red pentagram, candlelights casting shadows across her skin and the herbs looking more like burial flowers than anything else.

Their eyes met and the unvoiced question was asked, was she ready? Oya nodded, fingers curling into the fabric of her robe.

The blade bit into her chest, following her chest bone from beginning to end drawing a crimson line that soon overflowed painting her skin. The cut stung but it wasn’t what brought tears to her eyes, overflowing as quickly as the wound did, carving a way over her skin to drip onto her hair.

Michaels brows knitted together in concentration, his tendrils filling to room in a suffocating way, washing over her with their burning touch and wrapping themselves around her from, digging into her skin and trailing up her spine. From his pocket, Michael produced a clear crystal, the cut fine and dignified and the stone itself as long as her palm and half as wide. It was placed upon her wound, smearing the blood onto it painting it the same crimson that flowed through her veins. It felt heavy, however small it was, it felt as heavy a boulder.

With an elegance a ballerina would envy, Michael raised his hand, sliding through the flesh of it to let his own blood drip onto her, onto the stone, onto her would, onto her unblemished skin. His eyes turned a demonic black, words she couldn’t grasp falling from his mouth, while the pain increased.

Where her mother had used serpents blood Michael used his own, her mother had held her down, Oya remained in her place of own volition and most of all where her mother had her daughter raped she was now left untouched. It was her willingness that changed the ritual, it was the trust she gave Michael rather than a betrayal.

But the pain, the pain was greater this time, physically. It felt as if she was ripped in two, every cell in her body divided and the magic taken from it. The pain was blinding, it tore through her with vicious claws, bared its teeth at her throat and dug into her heart. Every drop of magic seemed to crystallize, cutting through her veins until they reached her heart, where they gathered up until it seemed like it was about to tear within her chest. It felt like glass cutting at her heart, so ruthlessly it took her breath away and silenced her whimpers of pain.

For a moment her heart stilled and she thought it might have crystallized, hardened at the magnitude of magic to be kept there, turned to stone. And just maybe it wouldn’t start again.

And then it did. Her senses rushed back to her, drowning her while she gasped for breath. She felt weak towards this pain that had changed in an instance. Now it felt like every bone in her body had been broken thousand times over, every joint torn from its place and turned to glass. Her muscles ached in a way she had never felt before. She felt fragile and weak.

Arms wrapped around her, a hand coming to cradle the back of her head as he lifted her towards his chest. Oya gasped in pain, cries shaking from her throat, while her body almost violently shook under his touch. Tears burned in her eyes, burned down her face and dripped onto Michael’s shirt.

“Shh, you’re okay. You did well. You’re okay, Oya,” Michael hummed reassuringly in her ear, trying to calm her down enough to take her somewhere else. Her body and gone ice cold and with Michael’s hands on her, it felt like they scorch marks into her skin.

“It… H-hurts… so bad,” she coaked out, nails digging into his shirt and skin. He petted her head, trying to reassure her that she were to be okay but was hard to hear over the pain, it was hard to do anything with it. But she supposed it was better than when her mother did it because now she had someone with her, someone who actually cared for her enough to stay and make sure she’d be alright.

“It hurts, Michael,” she cried.

“I know,” he answered pressing a kiss to the top of her head. His answer irked her, it made her want to throw something at him. He had no idea what it was like, the pain she felt, how utterly powerless she was. It angered her that he would think he knew of it, the pain and emptiness that coursed through her, hollowed her out. He still had his magic, more power in his fucking pinky than she had in her whole body. He knew nothing. It might have been irrational or maybe it was rational.

“If you betray me, Michael, I will never forgive you,” she threatened against his shoulder, bearing her teeth even though he could not see. She didn’t see his expression, the soloum shadow that fell over his face, the dedication and devotion that burned in his eyes, and the vavor that tremmored through the blue. Instead, she felt his hand continue to pet her and his voice softly cooing in her ear.

In one of his hands, he held the stone that had once been clear but had now turned obsidian with blood smeared over it. The stone represented the power that was locked away in her heart if it broke the power would release and engulf her once more. It was of a bitter beauty, much like Oya herself.

She moved away from him and flinched at the pain that bloomed upon her chest, drawing a hissing breath before connecting her eyes with his. “I need you to get me to my bedroom.”

Without a second thought he lifted her up, Oya groaning at the pain making his eyes flood with sympathy. One second they were in the basement and the next she felt her soft covers brush against her as he put her down on the bed. She groaned again, lying down and welcoming the feeling of never wanting to get up again. Her fingers brushed the open wound, hissing at the sting. Michael’s eyes followed the movement.

“How does it feel?” He asked, spreading her legs so that he could stand between them, letting his hand take hers and moved it away from the wound.

“It hurts,” She breathed and watched as his finger trailed up towards the wound, warmth spring from him and electrifying her skin. Goosebumps formed, the hairs on the back of her neck standing and her heart restarting its rapid pace. “I feel weak and fragile. Empty. I absolutely hate it.”

Michael couldn’t help but smile a little at her words, letting his power course through him and into her skin. He watched as she healed, what would have taken weeks taking mere seconds until there was a fine thin scar. After healing her he walked, disappearing into the bathroom. She heard the tap run for a moment.

Oya looked down and traced the scar up between the valley of her breasts, feeling the mending skin beneath her fingers and the sticky blood. Michael reappeared between her legs with a wet towel. He looked at her before letting it brush against her skin, washing off the blood that had poured from the cut and onto her neck, slowly working his way down. His eyes were attentive and careful.

It was strange how her body reacted to him. She could feel the fight or flight instinct nibble at her, making the airs on the back of her neck stand with unease as if she was lying before a predator. In a way she was. The alarm she felt when she first saw him, when she allowed him to enter her property all those weeks ago, rushed back. Her body knew he was dangerous, knew he was powerful and not quite… right. There was something about him that lured her in as much as it made her want to flee. Michael was a beautiful snake, one made to look harmless and draw its prey in and as soon as that was done he’d strike and let his venom pour into their hearts.

He reached beneath her breasts, washing off the stain that had followed her ribs and down. Still, he watches her, watched as she tried and figure out how to react to the way her body reacted to him, even if he didn’t know about it.

“How does it feel now?” He asked, brushing off just above her navel. The heat radiated off of him, climbed along her legs, in between them and up, shooting out from his hands.

Oya frowned a little, trying to come up with the right words. “I feel like I was run over by a herd of horses.”

Entertained Michael quirked a brow, eyes gleaming in mischief and amusement, he chuckled lightly and shook his head, ruffling up his golden locks. They had grown. It made him seem older.

She drew in a deep breath that made her chest arch up, edging out her bones and prompting up her breasts. Even though she didn’t make note of it, his eyes roamed her. “It feels strange, I’m not sure how to explain it… It’s like having lost a limb or a sense. There’s something missing and that part leaves me utterly powerless, fragile. Is this how humans always feel?”

“Humans never had that extra sense or limb, they wouldn’t know why they feel so fragile and powerless, they just… do. I suppose that is why they try and make up for it in every other sense,” Michael mused in thought. He reached up to dry off the spots of blood that had landed on her breasts, the wettened towel brushing over her nipple and making it perk up.

“You’re aware what effect you have on humans,” she stated. Of course he did, he could see right through them. That was his thing, to be able to see directly into a person's soul, see what makes them tick and then use it for his benefit. What he wanted was for them to acknowledge their deepest darkest desire, expose them and exploit them. And that might just be why they were either drawn or repelled by him. The repulsion would turn into allurement eventually.

“Explain it to me.” His voice had fallen an octave, deepened by her words. Oya perked up on her elbows to better look at him.

“You see right through them, you know what they want even if they don’t know it themselves and you’ll use it against them. You trigger the fight or flight response, trust me, no matter how attracted to you they are, the response will still be there. You’re a serpent, you could strike at any moment,” she said and let her words draw a smirk upon his face, one revealing that serpent skin beneath the pale human clothing he wore. To humans, that was what he was and unless they had seen anything else, they’d never know the boy that was locked away inside.

Oya’s head tilted, her hair falling loose from the poorly made bun. “Humans are defenseless against you and they don't know it, not until it’s too late.”

“And how is your human body reacting?”

Oya smiled, one as mischievous as his because he had just proved her point. Michael always wanted one's truth, he thrived on it, desired it, to leave someone bare. “Weak. It’s reacting to your presence both with the desire to run but also with undeniable arousal. It knows you’re dangerous but it still wants you.” She took his hand that held the towel and wettened her lips before continuing. “For making me this feeble little human you should be licking the blood off of me.”

With an almost burning touch, she felt his hand come around the back of her knee before the other pulled out of her grasp, throwing the wet towel to the floor before he sank to his knee, trailing the other hand down her body to push her legs further apart. Her body reacted with a spike of adrenaline coursing through her, pulsating towards her core that was already dripping wet with arousal.

His eyes never left her, not when he traced kisses up her thighs, not when his breath hit her core and where she wanted him the most and they wouldn’t leave her, that much she knew. He’d savor every emotion, every breath, every noise she made. Oya drew in a rigged breath, biting her lip in anticipation.

“There’s a difference between them and you though,” he said, smirking like the devil while his eyes tried to remain as innocent as possible. Emphasis on tried because in this he failed, miserably. In this moment it was hard to believe he had ever been innocent, those big blue eyes of his were made of something else entirely. Michael kissed the soft flesh of her inner thigh between his teeth and nibbled.

A breathy moan left her, mind beginning to scramble together. “And what is that?”

“You’re the only one I’d touch like this,” he said so sweetly it made her mind spin. Her mouth was left open, breath stuck in her throat as he licked over her folds, all the way up, cleaning the area of the little blood that was left on her. He dived into her, tongue slowly licking its way up her slick folds before rolling over her bundle of nerves. A wave of electricity washed over her, every cell in her body reacting to his touch. She couldn’t help but moan loudly and decided she’d let him know just what his touch did to her.

With an iron grip, Michael held her to the bed, arms wrapped around her to make sure she couldn’t move an inch. It made it all the more erotic but also so much more agonizing. His licks were slow and deliberate, filled with the intent for her to wither away.

Oya fisted her hands in the fabric of the bed, arching her back with a filling breath, while her eyes fluttered with pleasure. His tongue pressed against her clit, first softly and then hard, bringing forth the most lewd sounds. The pleasure shot up through her body, coiled in her stomach and forced her heart to pump blood through her as fast as it possibly could. She wanted to move against him, to force him to pick up his pace just enough for her to fall over the edge. He didn’t budge. She could feel herself on the edge but no further, he refused her that and it made her almost whine out loud.

“Evil spawn, that is what you are!” she exclaimed, curing her fingers through his hair, soft as silk, to tug at the locks in a futile attempt to make him do her bidding. Ecstasy was right there, she basically brushed against it every time he pressed his tongue to her. But right there was just out of reach.

“I allowed you to turn me human and this is what you give me!” She complained even louder, tears stinging in her eyes out of pure frustration. Michael smirked against her, she could fucking feel it. With more force she tugged at his hair, a slight whine escaping her.

“I,” he drawled looking up at her, mouth gleaming with slick and eyes dangerously mischievous. “Want.” Slowly, two fingers entered her, shallow and cruel. She clenched around his, body begging for more while her mouth was open in breathless moans. “You.” A few more inches went inside of her, curling deliciously up. “To beg,” he finished.

Oya almost couldn't comprehend lost in the feeling of his fingers brushing against her g-spot while his thumb circled around her swollen nub. Defiance and spite welled up in her. “You fuck-Ah! Fuck-ing asshole! Ah, Shi-bal!”

What began as English turned into Korean, the languages mingling together in her mind. “Shi-bal-nom-a!”

“I’m beginning to understand what ‘shi-bal’ means,” Michael gloated like the fucker he was. If there was something heavy near her, anything, she’d have thrown it after him. But all that was were pillows that were deemed all too soft to throw at him within the second they came to mind.

“Devil boy!” She hissed at him only to see his smirk grow. He curled his fingers and ascended his mouth to her clit again.

“Beg,” he mumbled against her and let the vibrations run through her.

“Michael,” she warned and pulled his hair again with stinging force. It only made his eyes flutter at the pain. “You owe me this!”

Michael withdrew from her and an actual whine fell from her brows knitted together in disapproval. She sat up at the edge, fingers brushing over Michael's chest, only to nib at the buttons of his shirt to open it up. While she unbuttoned him, Michael ran his fingers through her hair and gently caressed the side of her head with tenderness. As soon as she had unbuttoned the shirt Michaels hand wrapped around her throat, turning her face towards him.

The first kiss was soft and chased but the next was filled with fiery passion. Michael pulled her to him, followed her onto the bed and pressed himself against her core dragging out a swallowed moan. By the feel of her lips pressed against his and her hot core beckoning against his bugle, Michaels resolve melted away.

“You owe me,” she repeated with a faint voice, pressing herself up against him, wrapping her legs around his hips in an attempt to entrap him. Michael growled and buried his face in her neck, leaving bruising kisses and bitemarks spread across her skin made to last for days, reminders of him.

Michael caved and pushed his pants down to relieve the erection that had been straining against his pants. Oya’s eyes fluttered at the sight, her core clenching around the memory of him. It was strange how aroused she was, how her blood gushed through her veins with adrenalin as if she was standing on the edge of a cliff, the danger making her heart speed up. Her body knew he was dangerous and it absolutely thrived on it.

Without further thought Michael entered her, slow and deliberate, letting her feel every inch, feel the very fine stretch that made her eyes roll. Michael groaned into her neck as she lifted her hips from the bed allowing him to deepen the slow entry. The first thrust was swallowed and scattered with light kisses. The second thrust was harder and deeper. By the third thrust Michael had decided on a quick pace knowing that Oya wouldn’t last long by the way she mewled under him.

Her nails raked over the skin of his back, drawing angry red lines on pale fine skin. She sucked on his neck and lifted her hips to meet his, earning a string of moans and broken curses. The only thing that made Oya break her string of kisses was when he repeatedly hit that one spot that made stars fall from the sky and her toes curl. “Fuck! Baby!”

His breath was rigged, sweat pearling at his temples and curls bouncing around his flushed face. Like this, he was human, with a human flutter, with blood rushing beneath his skin, with breaths stuck in his throat. In this pleasure, he was just as human as she was.

Her climax came like a sudden wave, washing over her with an electric touch that painted her eyelids white. She clenched around him bringing him with her into ecstasy, a bliss pure and simple.

Michael fell against her chest with a long dragged out moan, wrapping his arms around her waist. Oya couldn’t help but curl her fingers through his hair, feeling the strands stick to her skin. Like that they lay, breaths being drawn in while they calmed their hearts and let the temperature fall. For the first time that day her mind was completely quiet, not a single worry left after the tidal wave of pleasure. For a moment all worries were forgotten.

“Michael,” she spoke with a gentle voice, hesitant as to how to continue. “I…” Her voice died out, unable to finish the sentence because of how colossal the admittance was. It would sollify it -make it reality. And that is what frightened her because it was also something very small and fragile.

“I know,” Michael answered with just as gentle voice, listening to her heartbeat. It didn’t surprise her, to him she was an open book. Sometimes he knew her better than herself.

#obsidian & angelite #michael langdon #michael langdon fic #michael langdon imagine #AHS #ahs apocalypse #ahs fic

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onpurposebreezy · 7 years ago

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CHAPTER 5

LORI

I sat at the island in the kitchen with a cup of hot tea between my hands. I was enjoying the time alone and letting the warmth of the cup comfort me. Kim was still sleeping the day away at mid-afternoon and Cody sounded like he was busy in his office. I woke early to the sound of a laptop keyboard being abused. After last night's events I was not surprised that neither of them left their rooms. As for me, I gave up making sense of it all after spending a good chunk of the night in my bed battling with my brain to stop replaying the kiss and to let me sleep. It finally listened to me around three in the morning. Only five hours of sleep for this girl. I took a sip of my tea and sighed with content, replaying last night's kiss with Cody. I wondered if there would be more to come or would he avoid me again. I closed my eyes and imagined his body up against mine and his kisses taking me over. My little daydream was soon interrupted by the one person who refused to leave my thoughts.

Cody walked into the kitchen, straight to the coffee maker. I raised my eyebrows wondering why he would need coffee in the middle of the day. While the water boiled, he turned to the fridge and searched for food. I admired his cute butt when he reached down to grab a bagel and butter. He looked like he was about to go to the office, slacks and a button shirt, the slacks formed well around his bottom. I started to wondered if he was ignoring me, given he hasn't so much as looked at me or acknowledged my presence since he walked in.

"Good morning to you too." I finally spoke, getting tired of being ignored as he toasted his bagel, buttered it, and made a cup of coffee in a travel mug as it finished. Now he was on his phone texting away like his life depended on it.

"Good morning, Lori. I'm sorry there is something going on at work and they need me there." He made his way to me and placed a kiss on my forehead, "We need to talk later. Can we do that when I get home?"

"Uh, sure. I guess." I answered, surprised by the kiss to my forehead. He smiled at me before racing out the door to work.

With nothing better to do, I chose to go swimming and enjoy the weather outside. I cleaned the pool with the skimmer and dived right in. I was in the middle of my third round of 10 laps between tanning to cool off when I saw a pair of feet enter the water off to the side. I swam to the surface and was greeted by Kim, who was munching on some toast, looking fresh out of bed.

KIM

I watched Lori swim as I sat down putting my feet in the pool.

“Hey you’re up?”

“Yea good night sleep is what I had I must have been tired me sleeping at night”

“I know your normally up at night you crazy person”

“So Judi is coming over I’m supposed to be going out with her later tonight wanna come” Lori got out the pool and dried off.

“Nawl I don’t wanna be a 3rd wheel so I'll stay behind but I can help you get ready if you want.”

“Let’s go inside and chat about something that has been bothering me” we got out the pool and went inside. We spent the next few hours in front of the television watching reality shows and making fun of some of the crazy people and vowing to never let each other agree to go on TV now that we were living a popular rich people area.

“What did you wanna talk to me about?”

“Oh have you heard from Mark at all?”

“No why?”

“Well Judi has she told me that he has a new girlfriend and that they are moving in together aint that some bullshit”

“The fuck really? Here I am put out of my house and he’s already moved on playing house with some bitch and I have his child I have half a mind to call that motherfucker and tell him what I think of him again”

“I’m with you if you wanna roll up to his house and bust out those car windows”

“We need to do that sounds like a plan to me”

“Cool I’m down and if the cops come I'll take the blame don’t need your pregnant butt going to jail”

“I’m ready when you are”

“Well I can't tonight I need to go get ready for my date with Judi”

LORI

I helped her get ready for her dinner date by watching her rip apart her closet looking for something to wear. She finally settled on a light button up shirt, and slacks... I watched Judi’s car pull into the drive way as she finished applying lotion.

Kim ran downstairs and opened the front door before Judi could ring the doorbell. She cleaned up nice, her hair was curled black dress, well if you could call it that, it was very short and didn't leave much to the imagination. It must be a nice place if they were dressing up so much.

"When are you going to be home?" I asked, I didn't know what events they had planned and really had no desire to know, but wanted to know so I wouldn't worry.

"I'll be home late, mom, don't wait up for me." She joked. I rolled my eyes and wished them a fun night.

I waited until they made their way back out of the driveway before closing the door. I sat on the couch as another reality show came on but I was too lost in the thought to pay attention. I wondered if Cody was still going to want to talk. What exactly were we going to talk about? Last night? Our attraction to each other? Was he going to tell me last night was a mistake...no, if that was the case he wouldn't have kissed my forehead this morning, right?

Speaking of the devil, Cody walked into the room with his phone glued to his ear. He saw me sitting on the couch and indicated with a finger held up for me to wait. He kept talking to the other person, talking technical stuff that made no sense to me. He soon wrapped up the call and joined me on the couch.

He turned slightly so that his body faced mine, his arm draped over the back of the seat. We were quiet for a minute, just looking at each other; I couldn't get over how handsome he was.

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tootie23 · 8 years ago

Text

I got tagged by @oceanstorm07

I’m supposed to tag 20 people, but sadly I don’t interact on here much so I tagged the 2 people I’ve talked too lol! Don’t have to do this, but it was kind of fun!

THE LAST:

1. Drink: A sip of “He ain’t neva home” A beer my friends and I brewed. It was good 2 years ago, not so much after 2 years

2. Phone Call: My mom. Only because she doesn't text.

3. Text Message: Everybody, I hate talking on the phone.

4. Song you Listened to: Holiday by Madonna

5. Time you cried: Crying is for widows and crocodiles

HAVE YOU:

6. Dated someone twice: Ugh, yes.

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: Yeah, the lights came on and their teeth were literally fizzing

8. Been cheated on: almost

9. Lost someone special: Yes

10. Been depressed: That’s my life

11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: Ughhhh yessss

LIST 3 FAVORITE COLORS:

12. Black

13. Red

14. Blue

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: Sort of

16. Fallen in or out of love: No

17. Laughed until you cried: Saturday

18. Found out someone was talking about you: no

19. Met someone who changed you: no

20. Found out who your friends are: I have a pretty awesome group of friends

21: Kissed someone on your Facebook list: Yep

GENERAL:

22: How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: Other than randomly being friends with Jem’s voice actress, I know all of them in some way.

23: Do you have any pets: Chickens(General Tso, Waffles, Nugget, Noodle, and Jasper Paprikash), Guinea pig(Lil Reese), dog(Penny), Soon I will be getting a goat...sooooon

24. Do you want to change your name: My name is awesome

25. What did you do for your last birthday: Small Jasper themed house party

26. What time did you wake up: 745am

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: Chatting about Wentworth I think?

28. Name something you can’ wait for: My chickens to get old enough to lay eggs. I love them!

29: When was the last time you saw your mom: Saturday

30. What is one thing you wish you could change in your life: I wish my default mood was happy and I didn’t have to work so hard to appreciate what I have.

31. What are you listening to right now: The sound of silence

32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: Yep

33. Something that is getting on your nerves: Overdone discourse

34. Most visited website: “The Facepage” as my parents call it.

RANDOM INFO ABOUT ME:

35. Mole/s:Nope

36. Mark/s: A few scars and small tattoos one of which I randomly got just so I would never have to wear a skirt when I was in the military.

37. Childhood dream: To be an Egyptologist

38. Hair color: Black

39. Long or short hair: Shooooort, little curly fauxhawk

40. Do you have a crush on someone: Hah! Nawl.

41. What do you like about yourself: I’m funny usually. My sense of humor helps me out. I’m resourceful, I figure out how to do the “impossible” .

42. Piercings: both ears...formally other body parts *smirk

43. Blood type: O +

44. Nicknames: Tootie, Reese, Reese The Apocalypse, Silky the Christmas pimp(long story).

45. Relationship status:

46. Zodiac: Pieces/Aquarius cusp

47. Pronouns: She/Her, Your grand luminance, Chick ones

48. Favorite TV show: Jem, Steven Universe, Wentworth, Sense8, Battlestar Galactica,

49. Tattoos: Ankh, small Dragon on my calf that I rushed out to get because a bunch of dumb female Airmen wanted to wear a skirt to graduation, Chinese characters saying “Girl Power” Yep...Like Sporty Spice. The 90′s were hard on everyone ok?, Eye of Horus.

50. Right or left hand: Right, but kind of ambidextrous due to a surgery on my right wrist.

51. Surgery: R wrist fused, left ankle rebuilt, kidney donated to brother, l shoulder rotator cuff repair, and I just had a hernia repair!

52. Hair dyed in different color: I accidently dyed it orange once...

53. Sport: Roller Derby

54. (No question, so Iâ€™ll just put here my favorite video games): Fallout 3, final fantasy 7, World of Warcraft (Moorwyn the Troll yo!)

55. Vacation: Anywhere I can hike and camp, water featuere are a plus

56: Pair of trainers: I donâ€™t know what this means. Adidas

MORE GENERAL:

57. Eating: Griller (veggie burger)

58. Drinking: I only drink water...or alcoholic beverages anymore.

59. Iâ€™m about to clean: My house

(Missing questions 60-61)

62. Want: to be happy maybe 10% normal

63. Get married: Aight!

64. Career: Disabled veteran, but I think I’ll go back and finish my masters one day (Community Health Education) I have a B.S in Health Science

WHICH IS BETTER:

65. Hugs or kisses: All of it

66. Lips or eyes: both

67. Shorter or taller: Taller

68. Older or younger: younger

69. (Missing!)...Awww yeah?

70. Nice arms or stomach: biceps please!

71. Sensitive or loud: both, not at the same time I guess?

72. Hook up or relationship: Both

73. Troublemaker or hesitant: I’m a troublemaker. But not the bad drama kind!

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a stranger: Yesssss...sooo much

75. Drank hard liquor: Yup

76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: yes :-(

77. Turned someone down: Yeah, dudes love trying to marry funny chicks. No thanks.

78. Sex on the first date: Sure! Depends on a ton of factors though.

79. Broken someoneâ€™s heart: Yes :-(

80. Had your heart broken: yes

81. Been arrested: No! But I’ve arrested people. It’s hilarious seeing giant grown men cry like babies. Smh

82. Cried when someone died: That’s a good reason to cry

83. Fallen for a friend: Yes...siiiigh

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. Yourself: When I’m in a good place yes!

85. Miracles: um. Can Science explain it?

86. Love at first sight: Nope. Horny at first sight? Yes!

87. Santa Claus: I totally saw him once on a late shift.

88. Kiss on first date: Yeah, why not?

OTHER:

90. Current best friend: Kristo Smiff, I can always be 100% myself with her and tell her when I am having a mental health issue. She’s cool with giving me time and space, but not taking it personally.

91. Eye color: lightish brown

92. Favorite movie: Fried Green tomatoes is my favorite book and movie. @darkittensniper @tikkish

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