aaltumiter

[aaltumiter]

My muse is dead. Tell me how yours is dealing with it.

[aaltumiter]

the  porcelain  of  the  tub  felt  cool  against  his  heated  skin.  atticus  allowed  himself  this  moment  of  peace  with  her,  closing  his  eyes  he  let  his  fingers  slip  beneath  her  curls,  gently  rubbing  the  base  of  her  neck.  feeling  the  fluttering  of  her  lips  against  his  jaw,  he  couldn't  help  the  small  chuckle  that  vibrated  through  him.  her  hands  were  soft  and  felt  nice  as  she  traced  them  against  his  scars.  some  indented  deeper  than  others,  and  some  looked  fresher  than  they  should.

❝  mmh  ??  ❞  his  eyes  open  to  reveal  her  gently  brushing  her  fingertips  against  his  ribcage.  it  tickles  just  slightly  before  he  moves  his  hand  to  take  hold  of  hers  her  breath  hot  against  his  ear,  and  he  pulls  her  closer.  ❝well,  if  that's  what  you  DON'T  want  to  hear,  we  can  move  to  a  different  injury.  ❞  it  was  most  definitely  a  stab  wound.

“That’s actually the least cliche thing I’ve ever heard, if I’m honest. It’s not like — you had your appendix removed or something…” Liv blinks, nodding as if to reassure him somehow. A frown briefly flickers across her face, fingers tracing over the scar. And she wants to ask — really wants to ask why he’d been shot in the first place, but it seemed too judgmental somehow, too prying, in the face of his vague nonchalance about the matter.

“Mm…” eyebrows furrow, and Liv’s lips find his jaw again, kisses pressed to him as her fingers slide to find another scar around his rib cage. “This one?” She whispers, her voice barely finding its way out as she presses her lips to his ear. Her free hand finds its way up into his hair, fingers curling through as she brushes them to the nape of his neck.

“If you tell me you were stabbed, we’re gonna have to talk about what you’ve been up to …” she winks, despite how serious she may have been. She nips at his ear, just to assuage the pressure though. She wanted to know, she didn’t want to judge.

[aaltumiter]

❝  unfortunate  ??  ❞  atticus  reached  the  basement  and  followed  through,  closing  the  distance  between  himself  and  the  madman  looming  over  the  dead  body  in  the  room.

what  in  hades  name  had  he  been  doing  down  here??  did  soraya  know??  his  head  whips  around  the  room  quickly  again,  staring  at  the  motionless  pale  body.  ❝  is  that  not  the  beauty  behind  them  ??  their  fragility,  their-their  frivolity  ??  ❞  he  hurries  around  the  cold  slab  before  them.  ❝  what  did  you  do  to  the  others  ??  where'd  you  put  them  ??  ❞

“do not insult me. you know very well that i do not allow the ones i take without consent to die on my table, atticus.”

he gestured to the gaunt man with sunken eyes. "this one signed a liability form and a non-disclosure agreement. pity. he was a lot more durable than the last three i tested my concoction on, but that is the unfortunate thing about mortals, isn't it? they're delicate. fragile. easily forgotten, too. no one will mourn him in a hundred years."

[aaltumiter]

he's  descended  further  down  into  the  basement  at  that  point.  gun-metal  greys  quickly  scan  the  inside  searching  for  something,  what  who  knew.  but  they  slowly  landed  back  onto  the  stiff  corpse  with  a  growing  distaste  in  his  mouth  before  settling  back  on  anton.  ❝ dude.  did  you  kill  them  too  ??  ❞

he rested a hand on the corpse—soon-to-be cadaver's—chest, ice blue eyes raising and turning to his unwanted and maddening companion. "no one to me. someone to those who once cared about him, which is neither here nor there for me."

[aaltumiter]

a  frown.  he  should  have  known  better,  but  curiosity  catches  the  cat,  or  whatever  that  american  saying  was.  ❝fuckin'  gross.  what,  WHO  is  this??  ❞  he  gestures  broadly  before  him.

"we had an agreement." calm and monotonous, lowering the scalpel. "you are not supposed to be down here during these hours, vardalos."

@aaltumiter

[aaltumiter]

a  shell  of  a  man,  pathetic  and  overgrown,  haggard  and  sullen.  grief  had  overtaken  the  demi-god.  allowed  it  to  form  a  shell  around  his  heart  as  he  continued  to  live  out  his  life.  alone,  away  from  everyone  and  everything  that  he  knew.  afraid  to  face  reality,  afraid  to  go  back  to  something  that  could  never  be.  not  anymore.  this  was  his  life  now,  and  he  was  CONTENT.  ❝ -- fucking hell. ❞  he  bit  down  on  his  tongue  hard  enough  to  draw  blood  as  he's  locked  mid-step.  stuck  in  his  tracks  as  not  only  her  scent  but  her  voice  rings  clear  in  his  mind.  he  could  never  forget  her,  his  person.  'did  you  care  for  me,  love  me?'  the  question  makes  him  grit  his  teeth,  and  it  takes  everything  in  him  not  to  turn  the  other  way.  she's  here  now,  however  that  came  to  be.  ❝ what  are  you  doing  here  soraya?❞  he's  yet  to  make  eye  contact,  yet  to  find  the  right  eyes  that  belong  to  the  right  face.

hva i helvete? soraya blinked, eyes widening. her hands trembled in uncertainty; her knees buckled in exasperation. anger, concern, disbelief, and sadness collided at once, warring in her cold, bitter, fractured mind. six years. it had been six years since anyone had last seen hide or hair of him. and yet he had the astounding, inimitable temerity to walk through the streets as if he hadn’t betrayed and destroyed the hearts of those closest to him with his self-imposed exile.

 do not run from me. do not turn your back on me again. “did you care for me, atticus, did you love me?” her voice carried through the crowd—soft and silvery, sweet as peach tea, smooth as churned butter—but commanding attention nonetheless with her decisive presence. she shook her head, clenching her jaw, nostrils flared. compared to the mother and the sister he had abandoned, though, her anguish was nothing but a drop in the ocean. “did you care for them, din jævla idiot, did you love them?”

@aaltumiter

[aaltumiter]

a  loud  sigh  escaped  the  male's  throat.  why  couldn't  he  ever  just  have  a  NORMAL,  BORING  night  out?  this  was  interesting;  to  see  this  woman  before  him  move  so  deftly,  with  such  precision.  he  admired  her  footwork  as  well,  unrelenting  and  skilled.  feeling  a  slight  need  to  watch  her  let  her  finish  them  off,  atticus  side-stepped  the  now  one-sided  scuffle  before  him  and  grinned  hungrily.  ❝holy  hera  -❞  he  began  before  stepping  forward  to  the  rift  that  had  appeared  before  them.  gunmetal  grays  size  up  the  portal  before  looking  behind  him,  then  over  to  the  woman  and  then  the  portal  once  more.  ❝oh,  you've  got  magic  magic.❞  a  curt  nod  before  the  demi-god  stepped  through  after  her.  ❝is  that  something  you  can  do  on  command,  or  a  once  a  day  type  thing?❞  he  asked,  turning  around  to  see  the  wiggling  world  around  the  rift  vanish  in  an  instant.  'huh'  he  thought  before  whipping  back  around  to  view  the  woman's  home.

"It's not a great time," Oraia muttered, gritting her teeth as the enemy's purple fire continued to scald her skin. Trying to break the fingers of their glowing hand only made things worse for her, so she relented for a moment, letting them bear down on her--at least, that's what they probably thought was happening.

If the goddess had been fighting humans, maybe things would have been different. But if she'd been fighting humans, she would have ended the fight within a minute, gently restraining who she needed to if she for some reason couldn't just portal away. She was a fairly peaceful person, unless she was defending someone else or she absolutely had to defend herself. & it was the 2nd circumstance, because her assailants weren't human. They were clearly of some magical origin, they knew that she was as well, & they knew how to find her. So she made a decision.

When the enemy lunged at her, hand still burning hers, Oraia punched her other hand through his ribcage, right where his heart should be. Luckily for her, he didn't have burning organs. His purple fire flickered & then faded. She sighed & dropped his heart behind him, pulled her hand free, & glanced at her scarred, weeping mass of flesh that used to be a perfectly good palm. She'd need ambrosia to numb the pain & help her heal, judging by the pain she was in.

Oraia concentrated & a portal, edges glowing a gentle gold, appeared, looking into her Singapore home. It was the most isolated of her 4 homes, so if she somehow got into another fight...at least the people in the area would most likely escape unscathed.

"Come on. I think we should talk," she said to her new friend, "Don't worry. I have a way to get answers from the fiery one." With that, she winked at him & stepped through the portal. Then she saw her other hand--the one that was soaked in blood. She gulped hard, vaguely remembering the bar fights & the plains & the warehouses she'd left full of gore.

[aaltumiter]

I forgot I had replies. I'm the worst. I will do them now. Also, I'm going to be making an interest checker and pushing for some lady interaction on this blog.

[aaltumiter]

slowly wanting more and more discord only rp's tumblr is icky

[aaltumiter]

a  breathless  gasp  escaped  the  young  woman's  throat.  her  shoulders  rose  as  she  flinched  when  the  woman  caged  her  in  and  leaned  in  close.  caelwyn's  head  tilted  down  ever  so  slightly  as  her  eyes,  bright-eyed,  full  of  wonder  and  amazement,  locked  onto  the  other.  'the  keeper  of  secrets'  she  had  said,  and  cae  felt  a  shiver  run  down  her  spine.  'the  one  who  knows  the  path  you'll  take'  her  eyes  instantly  lit  up  as  her  posture  changed.  ❝well,  'what  are  you'  is  not  a  very  kind  question  to  ask  someone  so  abruptly.❞

malaileto inclined her head in amusement, eyes crinkling in sprightly mischief. she leaned up on her toes effortlessly and placed her hands on either side of the other woman's head, caging her between her warm body and the cold stone wall behind her back. "who am i? i am the keeper of secrets, the one who knows the path you’ll take, where no one—alive or dead—shows. the question you should be asking, little elfin beauty, is: what am i?"

↪ @aaltumiter

[aaltumiter]

not  often  did  atticus  find  himself  returning  to  the  same  person  over  time.  not  anymore,  he  didn't  do  that,  he  chose  to  not  get  involved,  not  really.  but  there  was  something  oddly  calming  about  this  girl.  LIV.  this  small  bundle  of  anxiety  and  energy,  a  tiny  beacon  for  trouble.  she  was  everything  atticus  knew  he  should  keep  at  a  distance.  and  yet  --  she  was  almost  too  difficult  to  tear  himself  away  from.  the  phone  call  had  been  quite  a  welcome  surprise.  driving  over,  he'd  parked  his  bike  out  front  and  been  greeted  by  a  very  tired  drained  looking  liv.  the  tub  had  been  something  new  to  the  demi-god,  but  not  the  oddest  request.  with  arms  wrapped  gently  around  the  female,  atticus  relaxed  into  the  porcelain  and  let  the  quiet  over  take  them  for  a  moment. ❝mmmh.❞  a  low  hum  escaped  chisled  features  before  he  offered  a  lighthearted  shrug  before  chuckling.  ❝you  point,  and  I'll  tell.❞  His  body  was  an  inventory  of  victories  that  hadn't  felt  like  winning.  his  mind,  a  stronghold  of  anger  and  grief.  ❝no,  not  weird.❞  a  hand  slides  up  her  back  to  touch  gently  at  her  arm  to  ease  her  worries.  ❝it's  gonna  sound  so  cliche.  i  got  shot  there.  about  three  years  after  i  moved  to  new  york.❞

@aaltumiter || @ Atticus || starter calls

They were moving too fast, maybe.

Like they’d collided one day and had somehow wound up permanently entwined, stuck somewhere in a fog of infatuation. But she couldn’t help herself, really. She felt better close to him. Safe, and warm, like she’d found solid ground for the first time in ages.

She’d have hesitated, normally. To call someone when she was teetering on the brink of a breakdown. When her fear had gotten the best of her. It usually felt better to hide it away. To tuck herself into her tub and emerge a week later like nothing had happened. But her instincts had begged her to call and drag him in. So there they were, tucked into an empty tub with her head on his chest, and her hand up his shirt so she could feel his heartbeat. He was there, and safe, and solid.

“You ever gonna tell me where all these scars come from?” Her head tilts up some, just until her lips find his jaw as her fingers trace over his skin. “Sorry if that’s — I don’t mean to pry, I just — I want to know everything about you.” She shrugs, pressing another kiss to the corner of his lips. “Ignore me, that’s a weird thing to say…”

[aaltumiter]

[aaltumiter]

❝no  you  didn't.❞  his  accented  tone  was  sarcastically  charming  and  obvious  as  ever.  she  had  a  knack  for  getting  herself  into  sticky  situations  at  seemingly  the  perfect  time.  the  shadowhunter  barked  out  a  laugh  at  her  retort,  tawny  hues  glinting  in  the  dimly  lit  room.❝hero  complex?  is  that  what  you  call  saving  your  life?❞  lithe  calloused  hands  move  to  take  hers,  untangling  them  from  the  fabric  of  his  shirt.  what  was  it  with  her  and  always  finding  some  way  to  injure  herself?  honestly,  there  were  times  where  jace  got  the  idea  that  she  liked  the  constant  threat  looming  over  her. his  voice  drops  low  as  he  dips  his  head,  lips  hover  just  above  her  earlobe  before  whispering  carefully,  ❝by  the  angel,  liv.  can  you  ever  have  a  normal  night  out?❞  she  worried  him,  more  than  he'd  like  to  admit.

@aaltumiter || for Jace || starters

“I understand that you have some kind of — hero complex, but I was handling that guy just fine on my own…”

She wasn’t actually. Frankly, she hadn’t even noticed the bartender was a demon until she was two drinks in - it happened sometimes when she was distracted. Some of them blended in well. Sometimes she needed the amulet just to see things clearly. And so sure, maybe she’d gotten herself into trouble, but she’d have found a way to wriggle herself out of it — probably.

Throwing her can of pepper spray hadn’t been her best bet, maybe. But the effort had to count for something.

“How do you always show up right when I do something stupid?” God, how aggravating. Not him. Not really. Just his timing. It’s herself she’s frustrated with. “You’re so annoying.” Bloodied palms nudge at him — too much pent up adrenaline with no where to go — and she pulls him in a moment later, fingers hooked into his shirt until he’s close enough for her lips to collide with his. “Thank you. I’m sorry. I thought I had things under control…”

[aaltumiter]

❝hmm.❞  he  didn't  bother  to  hide  the  quick-to-judge  gaze  taking  in  the  male.  as  easy-going  of  a  demeanor  atticus  attempted  to  put  out,  he  was  always  one  to  read  body  language;  always  on  the  attack  around  new  faces.  but  there  was  no  heat  radiating  off  of  him,  no  grief  or  melancholy  the  demi-god  could  latch  onto  and  exploit.  and  in  a  moment,  he  dropped  his  shoulders  and  relaxed,  stepping  in  to  offer  a  friendly  greeting.  his  brows  went  up  at  the  mention  of  the  name  LOULOU,  lips  pursed  into  a  lighthearted  grin  before  he  nodded  his  head  eagerly.  ❝oh  yeah,  bien  surr.  oui  oui.❞  the  male  shifted,  sliding  a  foot  backward  to  create  a  bit  more  space  between  the  two.  he  watched  carefully  at  the  stiff,  almost  proper  movements  from  the  other  as  he  nodded  slowly.  ❝thelio?  wow,  alright.  atticus.  nice  to  meet  you.  labubu  has  told  me  nothing  about  you.  sorry.❞  he  flashed  a  cheeky  grin.

psalm 23:4 – even though i walk through the darkest valley, i will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.

"ah." thelio raised his head and turned to greet the other man with a bright and charming, good-humored smile, which reached his eyes—the corners of his amber gaze crinkling in mirth and warmth—concealing the abhorrence and repugnance toward the idolater churning in his stomach.

atticus vardalos. the son of the false god was a boor and lout. he knew it was him from the way he carried himself, arrogance and confidence intertwined in his essence, flowing through him like the tainted blood in his accursed veins. "you must be the one loulou talks about at length."

"bien content de te rencontrer." he dipped his head in acknowledgement, bringing his hand to his own chest, resting it mere inches above his beating heart. "allow me to introduce myself—thelio melancon."

@aaltumiter

[aaltumiter]

atticus  was  more  of  an  'act  first,  ask  questions  later'  type  of  guy.  seeing  a  female  in...  well,  ANY  kind  of  distress  caused  the  demi-god  to  step  into  action  before  even  bothering  to  think  who  was  in  the  right  in  the  situation.  thankfully,  his  gut  hadn't  betrayed  him  yet.  woof,  that  was  always  a  good  feeling.  letting  his  restraints  down  ever  so  slightly  and  allowing  himself  to  simply  let  loose.  he  knew  he  had  to  wrap  it  up,  or  he'd  lose  control  sooner  rather  than  later.  with  a  swift  step  back,  he  allowed  the  agile  woman  to  seemingly  take  out  the  other  assailant  with  little  to  no  difficulty.  there's  a  quick  pause  from  the  greek  as  he  looks  around  the  alleyway,  then  back  at  the  female  before  sizing  her  up.  maybe  she  didn't  need  his  help  after  all.  the  smell  of  the  fight,  the  blood,  and  adrenaline  it  was  starting  to  prickle  against  atticus'  skin,  rolling  off  her  like  waves  it  made  his  mouth  water.  he  didn't  recoil  or  react  as  the  female  ripped  her  blade  out  of  the  stumbling  male. his  pupils  widened  as  his  gaze  snapped  onto  her.  ❝i  would  have  three  dollars.❞  he  replied,  wiping  his  hands  on  his  thighs  before  strolling  over  to  the  woman,n  yet  keeping  a  safe  distance  between  them.  ❝i  didn't  ruin  a  good  time,  i  hope.  ❞  he  shifted  his  weight,  turning  to  look  at  the  mess  of  men  who'd  no  doubedly  be  coming  to  in  a  few  short  minutes.

She sensed someone else coming, someone else who was rooted in magic as much as she & the others were. Oraia grit her teeth, expecting another enemy to join the fight. But just as she was preparing to block another attack, a body flew by, hitting the wall with a painful smack. The goddess didn't find pleasure in the pain of others much anymore...unless those in pain had clearly found pleasure in hurting others. Either way, she had 1 less enemy to take out, & for that, she was grateful. Apparently, the arrival of the newcomer was just as surprising to her attackers as their friend's demise, because they let down their guard long enough to look at who had changed the course of it all.

Oraia took her chance & lunged forward, sinking her knife deep into the gut of 1 of them. They gasped, turning to her in shock, & she quickly withdrew her blade just to stab them in the throat. The person dropped to the ground, dead, as soon as she pulled Hemhemet out of their body. She didn't smile, but she was, admittedly, relieved. She'd thought about portaling away before, but what good would that do if someone knew how to track her between realms & across the world? She'd even considered summoning some spirits to help, until she realized that those fighting her might have their own death magic; that would only lead to a more chaotic battle, which wouldn't be safe for the mortals in the city surrounding them.

"So, how many dollars would you have?" Oraia asked the stranger, eyes sparkling with her usual flirtatious-mischievous curiosity. She'd never been able to ignore a pretty person. Before he could respond, 1 of those still standing charged her, lighting their free hand with a purple (clearly magical) fire. She hissed as she met that hand with her own, feeling it burn her skin. Hopefully, she could break their fingers before they did any more damage.

[aaltumiter]

LUCREZIA BORGIA The Borgias 2.04

[aaltumiter]

"you haven't needed my help in a long time." - anton

MEMES? MEMES!

❝  and  i  don't  need  your  help  now.  you  can  kindly  fuck  right  off.  ❞  his  posture  straightened,  shoulders  squared  as  he  took  a  step  back  to  grow  the  distance  between  them.  ❝you  know  none  of  this  would  have  happened  if  it  weren't  for  you.❞  that's  not  true,  and  he  knows  it.  however,  it's  easy  to  blame  someone  else.  a  hand  claps  the  side  of  his  jeans  loudly  in  frustration,  while  the  other  combs  through  his  mop-like  curls.  ❝i  didn't  need you  back  then,  and  i  certainly  don't  need  you  now.  if  it  weren't  for  soraya  --  ❞  TCH.  he  didn't  finish.