A/N: Long time no see! This is an unedited first draft of the "Call me by your name" with Jane Murdstone idea(without the grooming ofc). Please let me know if you want me to continue and idk if im gonna change this draft as well, since I wrote it a bit fast. Feedback is definitely appreciated!:)
L.O.L. - Yellowbird
//18+ audience only! - all characters are above the age of 18\\
Summer, 1867
As you felt the lightness and warmth spread across the naked skin of your body, the repeating of your thoughts was tuned out by the sound of crickets in the all-round shrubbery. Sweat dripped from your neck and down your clavicle, going further with every breath you took in of the thick mid-summer air. The serene crystals reflecting from the icy lake had never been more inviting. Your hair was drenched from your own sweat and sticking to your forehead in need of a wash from the shining water. You looked at your pocket watch.
A quarter to five.
Summers spent at your uncles were where you found the most solace. He and his wife were wonderful, they so often invited you to come here and visit them and their charming vacation home. Days here were spend, swimming in the many lakes and ponds you would find on your outings, visiting nearby cities, reading various books from your unclesā impressive library and cherry-picking in the midday with your unclesā wife, Mary. Mary was a warm, outgoing woman. She found joy and interest in everything she saw, while speaking terribly loud and out of order about it. A significant contrast to your more timid uncle. A quiet and closed of man, who preferred the comfort of his study and the much-appreciated knowledge of ancient artifacts from the dusty books he kept.Ā
When you saw through the personality differences, you found quickly, that they were made for each other. Especially when you on occasion caught a glimpse of them in the family room on your way to your chamber in the late evenings. There, in the privacy of their relation, they laugh, talk and exchange tender touches, soft laugh lines forming around your uncleās mouth.Ā
More you havenāt dared stayed to witness, it would be rude and improper to impose on such tender moments.
The grass tickled your bare feet as you stretched the whole of your body.
There was to be a visitor this year. Uncle Cyrus was a widely acknowledged archeologist professor, teaching at the Da Vinci institute back in Berlin. He was a passionate individual who spent his summers nose deep in the same subject and area as his livelihood.
Although this year, your uncle had decided to open his home once more for interested candidates, who would very much like to visit the north Italian countryside with many findings from the grand sea not far. It had been several years since a fellow interested had accompanied him over the summer. Your uncle was an elderly gentleman, about seventy, his wife around a decade younger having carried no children nor related to any nieces or nephews except you, therefore he had begun searching for a new candidate.
It was to be a woman, he told you. A professor in anthropology, beginning the early stages of research in the areas of archeology.
āIt is a marvel! Have you ever heard such unique wonder, Mary!ā, your uncle shouted out of character, several weeks ago from his office, as you were sat reading in front of the fireplace. Truly a neck-breaking sight, as he stumbled frantically out of his study, your presence going unnoticed by him, and up the spiral staircase.
A woman.Ā You had thought.Ā
Never had you heard of such a thing. A woman professor in anthropology.
You werenāt a daft girl yourself, of course you knew it was possible, never had you simply heard of it, often being told as a young girl to keep your head out of the clouds, the books you read had formed. Followed later, by restriction of said books.Ā
You sat back on your heels and let the wind blow against the ample flesh of your chest, yawning at the thought of the walk back to the vineyard. Brown and green stains had soiled the white fabric of your dress. You had laid upon it as an alternative for the blanket you had forgotten. Your undergarments used for drying the water of your skin.Ā
You begin dressing yourself by efficiently buttoning up your corset, followed by tying your undergarments and chemise. As you had put your dress and heeled boots on you stepped out of the Oaktreeās shadow and began your walk back home. You couldnāt remember at which hour the candidate would arrive, so you thought it best to pick up your pace.
---------
āY/n! Wherever have you been, dear? You look as if the bear had gotten its paws on you.ā, Mary looked bewildered as she descended the staircase.
The house was a French inspired Cascina residence. Beautifully build from the first laid brick to the last, with simple tree carved windows and a robust brick red roofing. The foyer of the home displayed simple white-yellow walls with paintings placed on them and the floor covered with a variety of Axminster carpeting.
It wasnāt grand, nor expensive, yet it was charming and the life it oozed never ceased to calm you, when you spend your summers here.
āSimply by the lake, Aunt Mary. I apologize for my appearance; Iā¦ trippedā¦ on the way back.ā, you lied, trying to seal it with a genuine smile.
She came quickly to where you stood. She held a gentle grip on your forearms, turning you in her grasp to further inspect.Ā
Her eyes looked upon your face, ātripped you say?ā
āā¦badlyā, you added, choosing not to look her in the eyes opting for the dress.
Aunt Mary apparently chose to leave the matter at hand, knowing the visitor would be arriving at any moment now.
āAlright well, go wash yourself off and change to a dress that doesnāt make you look like a rogue child. Ms. Murdstone shall be arriving shortly.ā, she gave you a light squeeze to your upper arms.
āMs. Murdstone?ā, you whispered.
āYes yes, you know? The assisting candidate of your uncle.ā
You nodded slowly, letting the name of the woman sink in.Ā Ms. Murdstone.Ā It was a rather odd name for an unmarried woman you pondered.
āOff you go!ā
As you gave your aunt a curt smile and looked down, you went to ascend the staircase. Unbeknownst to you, a soaked washcloth was further from your reach than you had thought--
You froze in the middle of the staircase, quick steps of your uncle coming into view at the top, as three knocks had rung out in the room. Silence.Ā
You turned to look down at your aunt, yet her eyes already laid upon her husband. Hurriedly your uncle went past you.
āY/n, there is no time, give a quick greeting and leave to change thereafter.ā Mary whispered tightening your uncleās butterfly.
How utterly humiliating.Ā
It is no secret that first impressions matter, yet your disorderly mind has kept you from making just that. This woman was going to be met by a soiled dirty looking young woman, will she not have a fright?Ā
Please lord, forgive my poor deeds.
As your uncle took a deep breath to calm his nerves and looked towards your aunt and you, a quick furrow of his eyebrows as he laid his eyes upon your dress, he turned the doorhandle and stepped aside.
In your peripheral you observed the darkness of the womanās shadow, yet you couldnāt keep your gaze fixed upon the carpets any longer.Ā
āMs. Murdstone, a pleasure to meet you!ā, your uncle nervously laughed, his figure disappearing behind the woman.
It was the first glance you ever laid upon her.
As she sauntered through the blackwood door, the first thing you noticed was a significant height difference between her and yourself. She had the skin of a snowclad field in winter and hair black as raven feathers, styled to the sides of her head. She looked around the space as if assessing the quality of the housing, foregoing any introduction of herself. The woman wore an all-black attire, from her corsage to her skirts, to her low sitting cap. Her gloved hands were clad in front of her, trading the warm energy of the home with a sophisticated and poised aura.
The woman turned midway through the door, looking at your uncle, āpleasures all mine, Mr. Bamfordā, said the woman with a faux saccharine undertone.Ā
She smoothly shifted her focus in front of your aunt. āMrs. Bamford, I presume?ā, her honeyed smile went wide as she looked down upon your aunt, yet her eyes held something much unalike.
You looked to your aunt, her mouth fell slightly agape, āUh.. Uhm.. yes, welcomeā. She stuttered.
It was clear that the womanās intensity had gotten the better of both Aunt Mary and your uncle.
āAnd this isā¦?ā, you quickly turned your head to the woman who now, was meandering in your direction. Her eyes were trained on your face, and unamused expression had fallen upon hers. She looked back at your uncle as if expecting an answer.Ā
āUhm Y/n, sorry... Ms. L/nā¦, Ms Murdstoneā, you looked down. Your vision was disrupted by black fabric coming to place right in front of you.
Ms. Murdstone gave an unimpressed glance to your aunt and uncle, āI see. Look at me girl.ā
A hand came to lift your chin.
You watched as she tilted her head to observe the state of you. Definitely not impressed. Your eyes searched for your aunt and uncle, who simply ignored your silent pleas, and kept up their mannered smiles. They gave each other a short-whiled look and went back to woman and the scene unfolding.
As your eyes went back to the woman, your spine chilling at the sight of the womanās light blue eyes and found she had been staring directly at your face.Ā
Hopefully she is not bothered by it, it is not simply a dress to clean.
She quickly let go of you again. Her gaze leaving as fast as it came. Ms. Murdstone wandering further into the house, āMy belongings have been left outside by the carriage, I believe a maid will fetch it, or am I to do so myself?ā
āOh yes, of course uhm, right away!ā, exclaimed your uncle and went to call for the staff, while your aunt scurried after the observing woman, already entering another area of the house.
*click*
As you closed the heavy wooden door you watched your reflection in the window. Nervously you studied yourself.Ā
The lady treats you different from the other servants.
At least, that's what everyone else tries to tell you. They claim she's more lenient and less tempered when it comes to you. But you never really listen when they say such things. They seem silly to you, preposterous, and with how hard you try to remain perfect for the lady you didn't have time to think about something so unlikely.
Since the day you arrived at Castle Dimitrescu and became a servant you ensured you maintained perfection and obedience for the family. You heard plenty of those who displeased them never being seen again when you still lived in the village and then you saw it first hand during your work. The smallest mistakes could lead to life altering injuries or worse... you never want to know what's in the cellar.
It isn't until an incident at dinner that you contemplate what your fellow servants have been saying. That you realize.
You've been jumpy the entire day, taunted and haunted by the lady's daughters as they threaten to maim you from the safety of the shadows, cackles echoing off the walls when you show any kind of fear. You're shaking. No matter how hard you try to hide it, you know it's very visible. But you still have a job to do. Until you're dismissed from duty you have to make sure the lady and her daughters want for nothing.
But Daniela's voice lingers in your mind. And every time you shake it out, Bela's takes it's place. Or Cassandra's. You know they want nothing more than to tear you in two. You don't know why they haven't yet. Well, actually you might, according to them it's because their mother plans to do it first.
According to them, the lady plans to dispose of you.
The stew in the bowl you hold sloshes against the sides of the glass as you shiver and make your way to the lady's side to serve her dinner. Your throat is tight and your heart racing. Every step feels like you're getting closer to death. You can feel the three girls' eyes on you as they chuckle low at your state.
You've always been easy to work up. Stress isn't something you handle well in any case. Even the smallest things can set your nerves on edge but you could say the thought of your life ending was much bigger.
When you're at the lady's side you actually think you can get through it. That you'll serve her food and step back in line with the other servants and everything will be okay.
Until Bela decides she's bored of simply watching your suppressed fear. She waits until she knows that her mother isn't paying attention and lurches in your direction, but just enough for you to see and flinch away. You choke on air and the bowl tumbles from your fingers, splashing the hot stew across the lady's lap as well as yourself before the bowl shatters against the hard floor.
A servant gasps from the other side of the room.
It feels as if your heart stops dead in your chest. You can't breathe, you can't hear, the blood flowing through your body turns to ice. The lady is out of her seat in a second, grabbing for something to dry her slowly staining dress but all you can pay attention to is the glass.
You drop to your knees quickly, breath finally returning to your lungs in panic, and start grabbing at the pieces. Your vision blurs with tears at the realization of what you've done. Now she's surely planning to kill you.
A large piece of the glass slices across the palm of your hand and you hold in the cry, forcing it back down, hoping to not anger the lady anymore than you already have with pathetic sounds. Blood rushes to the surface and drips onto the fragments as you continue to gather them into the bottom of your shirt. Stew and blood mix on the floor.
The lady's voice cuts through the ringing in your ears but you only hear her. You don't listen to what she says.
She looks to her daughters, "girls, privacy."
In unison they respond, "Yes mother."
Then she looks to the servants against the way who are watching you with widened eyes, "You three as well."
"Yes my lady."
Alcina can hear your heavy breathing as you scramble on the floor and the scent of your blood is strong. She sees the red substance leaking from your wounded hand. She grabs the back of her chair and lifts it to set it aside and out of her way to get to you, it squeaks slightly as the wood grates against the floor.
The sound sets you off, forcing you back into the world where she's preparing to rip you to shreds, she's moving the chair so it's easier to grab you, your mouth and body move before you brain can.
Your head snaps up, tears streaming over your cheeks, eyes frantic with fear, "Please my lady! It was an accident! I'll- I'll clean it all up and I'll never do it again! I promise! Promise!"
She says nothing at first in response to your begging. She's used to the sound of pitiful pleas but they've never come from you. And she liked it that way. The way you look now, the terror that swims in your eyes, the trembling of your body, it's all something she doesn't want to witness. Sure, a bit of fear here and there was fun. Cute even.
But your despair is so genuine.
"Do-don't!" You choke on your words, "Please don't send me to the cellar! I don't want to die!"
Alcina's lips part with a surprised breath. You sound so sure of yourself. So positive that death was awaiting you. She leans over, moving carefully to sit on her knees in front of you, completely ignoring the fact that she's getting her dress dirty.
"Hush now," she orders softly, her larger hand gathering your bleeding one, cold skin sending shivers up your arm, "Is that what all of this quivering and weeping is about?"
When your only response is a sob, Alcina continues, "You think I'm going to send you down there? Some spilt stew is not cause for such punishment."
You know she's lying. You've seen servants sent for much less. So why is she pretending it's different with you. And why is she holding your hand and kneeling in front of you, towering above your form and looking down with some emotion besides the rage you were positive was swarming in her?
"Aren't you?" your voice comes out so small, so confused.
Alcina doesn't answer, she only brushes the glass from your shirt back to the floor and says, "Come. Let someone else clean this mess. You're injured."
She tugs you forward until you're flush against her torso, your cheek pressed to the exposed skin of her breasts, and she stands. You aren't sure if it's because you're flustered or frightened at what she's doing but you restrain yourself from moving. Your heart pounds wildly in your ears as you find yourself unable to focus on anything but the way she feels under you. She carries you from the dining hall, ordering the servants waiting on the other side to clean what you'd caused, and you can tell by the path she takes that she's heading to her room.
You've been there plenty of times before but something about this one seems so different.
Alcina sits you on the edge of her massive bed where she examines your sliced hand with hunger in her eyes. You know what her wine is made of. A shiver rakes up your spine. It's only then do you start to feel the sting of the actual wound. Before, you were too focused on cleaning, fixing everything in hopes of being spared the lady's anger, but now, the pain resonates in your muscles. It's bleeding enough that you wonder if you'll have a scar.
You let out a wince when Alcina squeezes your hand.
Her eyes barely flicker to yours before bouncing back to the blood, "fragile, you humans are."
Heart stuttering, you gulp and feel your lips twitching into a sheepish smile. Her actions were so odd. So out of place from how you knew your lady to act. She doesn't treat her servants this way. Ever.
The lady ponders your expression. She likes this one much more than your frightened one. She raises your hand toward her face, careful to not wrench your arm too far and hurt you. Your only realize what's happening when her lips make contact with your palm. And you completely shut down at the action. She's gentle, almost frighteningly so, as she runs her tongue over the crimson, gathering it all up in her mouth and swallowing with a content hum.
Heat rushes to your face, painting your cheeks and nose in a fiery blush that you can't even be mad about, Alcina hears what sounds like a hummingbird fluttering its wings violently in your chest, "M-my lady!"
She leans away, "I simply cannot let it go to waste now can I? Am I not to indulge in the slightest?"
When she licks her lips you think she has to be messing with you, working you up on purpose, this is her playing with her food, it must be. You watch the deep red disappear with a swipe of her tongue leaving only her lipstick, still perfect and pristine. She looks so beautiful.
"So rich and delectable," she comments following with a sigh of disappointment, "Ah but I cannot allow your wound to go unattended."
She's still holding your arm up as she gathers something from her bedside cabinet. It's some kind of old bandage, clearly unused considering the lady never needed such things, and a bottle of fluid you recognize as first aid. You can't speak. You can only watch her dab a cotton ball with the liquid, clean your cut, and wrap it up tightly.
"You wish to say something?"
You tense when you catch her eyes locked to you. She must be able to read your expression. Your confusion. Your loss.
Nodding, you ask, "Permission to speak, my lady."
"You may."
"Wh-" you suck in a painful breath trying to steady the dangerous beating of your fragile heart, "why haven't you punished me? For ruining your dinner and your- your glassware and-" you gasp when you remember, "and your dress!"
"You seem uneasy. Have the girls been picking on you today?"
You want to be surprised that she noticed your discomfort but it's always easy to tell. Even a stranger would see it.
It definitely isn't your place to lie to her. Besides, you don't see what it could possibly get you. You nod slowly, a bit of embarrassment filling your chest.
"Do tell."
Her voice doesn't sound angry. If anything, she seems caring. Like she genuinely wishes to know what had you so shaken. But of course, why would she care?
"They told me that," voice cracking, you force yourself to continue, "that you were going to get rid of me. Throw me in the cellar t-to die. I don't want to be sent away my lady, I can be obedient, I can-"
She shushes your sudden pleas, recognizing that you're getting yourself worked up again. Just like in the dining room. You're so frightened, truly believing that she wishes to throw you out.
"They are but mere taunts from children," she finishes tying off your bandage and your hand falls to meet your other in your lap, hers moves to touch your cheek, "I do not plan to send you anywhere."
"B-but-"
"No buts."
"Why are you being so kind to me?"
"Do you wish me to be cruel?"
"No, no!" you counter quickly, "It's just..."
Alcina cocks her head to the side with a small smile quirking at the corner of her lips. She finds you amusing. Even more, you somehow are oblivious to the way she feels about you. To the liking she harbors for only you. She's heard the servants whispering about it before so surely they've told you. You must not listen.
"I am just a servant. I am nothing special, my lady," your breath hitches when she curls a finger under your chin.
"Well now that is just not true," she chuckles, "You are very special to me. Such a darling."
You look like a shy lamb beneath her towering form. So small with widened eyes and parted lips. Your heart has yet to stop racing. Would it stop dead if she kept teasing you? Would you cease to function with enough prodding?
At first you completely want to deny her words. Argue that you are nothing more than a worker in her castle that could be replaced at any time. But the way she looks down at you. The way her eyes inspect your expression, her fingers trace your jaw and down your neck, sharp nails not daring to press too hard.
She's being serious.
You really should listen to your fellow servants more. Because it's undeniable.
Alcina smirks as she feels your pulse quicken under her fingertips.
The lady does treat you different from the others.
(not my gif pls dont come for me, but also if its yours lmk!)
Summary:
She'd been obsessed with you from the moment she met you. Knew the eyes the moment she'd seen them. And it changed the world for her. Now it was only fair that she changed the world for you.
You would be hers, no matter the cost.
Ao3 Link
18+ Minors DNI
TW: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, Talk of underage (nothing happens to ANYONE underage, but it's an obsession for sursies)
Authors Note:
Hi friends!
I am back, with this little chestnut. It started as something original and then I was like. Oh shit. I'm literally writing about m y fave Romanian girlies <3 Alcina is a raving psychopath in this (hot.) and is OBSESSED with our reader..... I am not responsible for her actions (I am.) Lmk what you think and I PROMISE to update my other fics at some point. It's been a hell of a few months let me tell you.
Hope you love red flags as much as I do!
X
Alcina
I'd been watching her for years.
The intensity in which my gaze first fell on her was unrelenting still. I was immediately struck by the knowing she was mine ā Big eyes sucked my soul into her from the moment I saw the girl.Ā
Ā That was nearly two decades ago.Ā
Her father, Oryx and I had known each other for some time. He brought her to my vineyard all those years ago, and my undead heart stopped right in my chest. That timid little thing, holding her fatherās hand, clinging to his legs as I stared down at her, had stolen my cold heart without even knowing it.Ā
I cared not for children that were not my own, thankfully my girls had been grown (or what they considered grown) since the early 20ās.Ā
Their brains had stopped evolving afterā¦ her.
And Y/N āĀ
Sweet, sweet, Y/N ā¦Ā
As soon as Oryx brought her into my home, my girls were entranced, just as I was. The timid little girl was suddenly gone at the sight of my daughters āĀ And the three of them cooed over the sweetest little girl as Oryx and I went over our latest business development together. He rambled on as I watched my girls, large grins on their faces, play with someoneās child.Ā
For them, it was unnatural. Unheard of.Ā
I expected it from my oldest, Bela. Out of my three daughters she was the most docile. If I was being honest, Daniela, who was the youngest, had her motherās social tendencies and not mine. But Cassandra āĀ Seeing her, grin painted on her lips interacting with Oryxās daughter shocked me to the bone. My middle child was by far the most violent out of her sisters, and my mirror.Ā
To set the record straight, I am not a monster, and I am certainly not someone who leers at childrenā¦.
This child just happened to be exceptional.Ā
So over the years I watched from afar. I lingered in the shadows, in silent protection. Always asking Oryx about her when he came to our home in Romania to inspect the grapes. Oryx was a smart man, very smart and I needed to proceed with caution.Ā
Even now, as we stood in between rows of grapes, Iād suggested in casual conversation that he should bring his sweet daughter more, as the girls adored her.Ā
āAw, hell. Alcina, I would but her motherās got her on such a tight leashā¦. And going to high school next year is a big deal for them bothā¦ā The man, whoās hair was now greying, grinned, āMy little sugar plumās turned into quite the little firecracker.ā He was pressing a small grape between his fingers, violet juice coating his hand.Ā
It took everything in my power not to sneer at Oryx then and there for his retched nickname for such an exquisite beauty. My eyebrow arched as we two continued our walk through my vineyard together, āHigh school, already?ā I smirked casually, āIt was just yesterday she was hiding behind your legs from me.āĀ
Y/Nās father joined in my nostalgic memory, as I hoped he would.Ā
Excellent.Ā
āItās hard to believe.ā He mumbled, mainly to himself.Ā
Oryxās mind silenced ā and I sensed what was next. This was his second trip to Romania after all, and completely unnecessary. Iād played my role well as we talked on the phone a month or so ago.Ā
A lot of āOh you think the grapes are wilting too much in this odd heatwave? I agree, Oryx. But please allow me to pay for your flight over, it's the least I can do!āĀ Ā
Men werenāt terribly difficult to manipulate.Ā
Over the last ten years, in all my careful planning I obtained a new business partner. I had begun slowly draining Oryx of all his assets. His investments. His houses.Ā The idiot men I employed talked Y/Nās idiot father into shoddy deals that would have no real way of working out. Oryx just so happened to be stupid enough āĀ and desperate enough. And as he proved to be either he was not worthy of the House DimitrescuāĀ
Oryx stopped walking, and ran a hand through his salt and pepper hair.Ā
Ah, humans and their ageing.Ā
Ā āAlcina, I gotta ask you a favour.āĀ
My brow quivered higher as I appeared to seem uninterested, āOh? Are you alright, Oryx?āĀ
No. He was not alright, that was plain as day. Youād have to be an idiot to miss the signs. Large dark circles beneath his eyes, they way he shifted on both feet as if this was extremely painful to ask me for help āĀ
āYeahā¦ Iām alright.ā He shoved his hands into his pockets.Ā
āOryx.ā My tone was serious, but laced with familial concern, āI feel we have known one another long enough where you can be honest with me.āĀ
His hangs wrung together āĀ Ah, so he fidgeted when he was upset. I wondered if Olivia picked up on such a horrible habit.Ā
āBut I gotta sayā¦ Iāve made some bad business deals lately Cinaāā¦āĀ
I bit my tongue and suppressed a snarl at the nickname. I allowed it merely because of the task at hand. Anyone else who wasnāt bringing me my sweet girl would have had their tongue cut out by now.. These insufferable man-thingsā
āAnd Iām in some real trouble.āĀ
Oh.. he was still talking.Ā
I pursed my lips, feigning interest, āWhat kind of trouble?āĀ
āIā¦ā Oryx sighed again, āI made some deals that I thought were solid and it turns outā¦ These are some bad, bad guys.āĀ
I began walking once more, subtly signalling he should do the same. āHow much do you need, friend?āĀ
The relief on Oryxās face was immediate. Shoulders slouching in ease. Weād stopped walking once more, as the sun began to dip below the treeline. āA lot, Alcina and if youāre not interested I understand I donāt want to pressure you.āĀ
I pursed my lips, āDid your wife tell you not to come back unless you obtained the money?āĀ
Oryx blushed lightly, āYeah, something like that.ā His laugh was soft, sad almost.Ā
Pathetic.Ā
āI must admit old friend, I had my suspicions when you contacted me last month. Oryx remained silent, āBut I am happy you came to me.āĀ
We began walking once more, gravel crunching beneath the weight of my heels. Oryxās heart was hammering in his chest, nerves still awry. I knew he didnāt fully trust me, and I didnāt care. He was desperate now. My plan had worked perfectly.Ā
āHave you thought of Y/Nās future? Found a suitable match for her? A family in decent social standing and wealth could change everything for you.ā I mentioned it casually, as to not alarm his idiot misplaced misogyny over his only daughter towards me.Ā Ā
Oryxās hands balled into fists at the suggestion, āSo you think I should pimp out my only daughter?āĀ
I stood straight. My full height always intimidated men and it would be no different with this one. āThat is not what I said.ā He shrunk two sizes, at my tone. It was one of force, not anger. I continued,Ā āWhile we are friends, Oryx bare in mind who you are speaking to, and what I am capable of.āĀ Ā
Y/Nās father shrunk three more sizes, as I continued, āI merely suggested that you secure your daughter's future.āĀ
Oryx sighed once more, āApologies, Alcina. It has been aā¦ tense few months.āĀ
My curt nod sated his grovelling, āQuite alright. I merely wish to help.ā The fear that rolled off Oryx was evident in his pheromones. Had it not been for his own self loathing clouding said fear I would've been tempted to sample him.Ā
HeĀ followed my footsteps dutifully, āI can't stand that thought of Y/N being married off to some foreign family. Away from her ownā¦.āĀ
Ah, I had him right where I wanted him.Ā
āOryx, consider this for me, will you?ā We stopped walking once more, the light dimming further behind me.
āAnything, Alcina.āĀ
I went silent for a moment, contemplating my wording ā āOryx, I am in need of aā¦. Companion.ā
His eyes went wide, āYou think I would give my daughter to YOU?āĀ
My hand shot up, silencing him, āDo you need a reminder of who it is youāre speaking to?ā Oryx looked to the ground in shame, unable to meet my eyes. āNow let me finish, before you begin the witch hunt. Y/N is a beautiful girl. Charming, and intelligent. No doubt the best of you and Sarah.ā
Ā Oryx let out a deep breath āĀ
āTrust when I say old friend, I would require nothing else from her, but her charming self. She would be safe here, as my girls are safe.āĀ
That did it for him. The mention of my girl's safety made Oryxās energy concede. In his mind I was a monster. He knew what I was. Though heād been sworn to secrecy he looked at me like they all did. No matter, it was with that fear I got what I desired.Ā
And what I desired was Y/N.
āSo let me get this straight Alcina, my daughter would be yourā¦ whatā¦.wife?āĀ
I nodded.Ā
His handās once more clenched into fists. The idea of his sweet little girl being my dove was too much for his simple American mind.Ā
Ā āIn most aspects, yes. I would require her to come to functions with me. Dinners, all of the things a wife would do, and in private we shall have our own respective spaces.āĀ
Oryx frowned, deeply as he spoke, āAnd youād give me the money in exchange for this?āĀ
I nearly pitied Y/N, had I not been so infatuated with her. Oryx himself, so easily, gave her up to save his skin.Ā
āIndeed.ā I was towering over him once more.Ā
Oryxās dark eyes shifted to contemplate this again. I nearly rolled my own, āAlcina, you could have anyone you wanted. Why Y/N?āĀ
I feigned sadness, āOryx. Things havenāt been the same sinceā¦..ā My old friend nodded in silent understanding, āAnd my girlsā¦ They long for someone to speak to in the harsh winters,Ā someone to run with in summer. If I married a woman of my age she wouldnāt be capable of keeping up with them. I do not wish to love another after Lora. She was more than I could have ever asked for.āĀ
Oryx had tears in his eyes by the time I finished.Ā
Iād hypnotised him successfully.Ā
āYou are truly selfless, Alcina.ā His voice cracked, like I was some sort of angel.Ā
I pursed my lips, āMmm. Tell that to my checkbook.ā
If you want to read an academic article that's behind a paywall just email the author and ask politely if they will send you the article. Most academics will be thrilled that you want to read their work and will gladly send it to you.
Ok y'all but like Iām not even kidding about this I read this post yesterday and today I got an email from the peeps at hamilton and I won the lotto gor $10 tickets and I would like to give all my thanks to the internetās favorite fish, Goldie Gurston, for making this possible because I totally believe they did this with their amazing gay powers
So I know this is likely a coincidenceā¦but I reblogged this and just now discovered Iāve been given a $150 amazon gift card as a bonus at work. So thank you, fish!
Ā because I have no self control or shame apparently
Your pen works over the previous day's homework as the clock ticks on the wall.Ā Periodically you'll look up and see Cassandra with her brow furrowed as she erases something.Ā She asked for the first ten minutes to work on the math problems on her own before you helped her.Ā That hadn't been your initial plan but the twelve year old made a convincing argument so you let her work.Ā Although it didn't look like it was going too well.Ā Since there were five more minutes left you still respected her wishes.
"This is stupid!" The sudden outburst nearly makes you jump as you look up from your papers.
"What's wrong Cassandra?" You ask, moving from around your desk.
"Bela and Dani get to go do fun things after school and I'm stuck here because I'm too dumb to do math." Cassandra sits back in her chair glaring down at the worksheet as if it's taunting her.Ā There are frustrated tears brimming in her eyes.
You squat down next to the desk.Ā Her pencil is gripped so tightly you think it might break.Ā You slowly take it from her hand and gently put it down.
"Cassandra, look at me." You say softly but firm enough that she eventually looks up at you with watery eyes.
"You are not dumb. Everyone struggles with something and that's perfectly normal.Ā Okay?"
"Okay." She replies, still sounding sad.
"Can I tell you a secret?" You offer and she brightens a little.
"Yes."
"I struggled with math all the way until college." Your admission has her giving you a suspicious expression.
"You did? But you're a math teacher?" She says a little confused, still looking as if she didn't believe you.
"It's true." You laugh lightly at the questioning gaze.Ā "I finally fell in love with it my first year of college and knew I wanted to teach by my second."
"I don't get people that like math." She looks back to the paper on the desk.
"How about we work through this first problem together?" You test and she chews on her lip before nodding.
"Alright." There's a smile that returns to her face as you start going over the problem.
The rest of your time together goes smoothly and Cassandra is actually able to do the rest on her own by the time you go through the first few together.
"Cass!!" A voice calls and you both look up seeing Daniela come bounding into the room with Bela trailing behind her.Ā "Time to go. Mother is picking us up today." Her words make Cassandra beam.Ā You stand from your seat as she quickly packs all of her things.Ā Once she swings her book bag over her shoulder you grab the keys to your room and motion to the door.
"Come on girls, I'll walk you out." You go down the hallways with the chattering girls in tow, holding open the main door as they file past you.Ā There's a car waiting out front.Ā A woman is leaning against it and your mouth goes dry at the sight of her.
Your mind hadn't even registered that you'd be meeting Lady Dimitrescu right now.Ā The other teachers had mentioned her a few times, always sounding a little fearful.Ā You thought it was ridiculous you had to add 'Lady' to her name, but they urged you that it was a necessity.Ā Now that you're looking at her you couldn't imagine calling her anything else.
She slides the sunglasses off her face and makes eye contact with you.Ā All thoughts leave your mind when that enchanting gaze is on you.Ā Her face is partially shadowed by the hat on her head and you swear it looks like her eyes were glowing for a moment but as soon as you blink it's gone.
"Mother!" Bela shouts, the three girls dash towards her.Ā Lady Dimitrescu smiles fondly at them as they crash into her.
"Hello girls. How was your day?" She greets and is immediately bombarded with three voices talking at once.Ā "Alright alright, I can only listen to one story at a time.Ā We can chat on the way home." She says kissing each of them on the cheek before the girls gleefully pile into the back of the car.
Her eyes look to you again and she comes over.Ā It strikes you how insanely tall she is.Ā She has to be the tallest woman...no person you've ever met.Ā You actually have to tilt your head up to meet her eyes when she's in front of you.Ā It takes all of you to not outright stare at the perfectly tailored white pants suit she's wearing.
"Thank you for walking them out." She says with a smile.
"It wasn't a problem." You reply, surprised at how flustered you are.Ā By the smirk on her lips you know she notices but she doesn't comment on it.Ā Instead her eyes scan over your own attire and you shift a little under that piercing gaze.Ā Something flashes in her eyes but it's gone so quickly you can't figure out what it was.
"Are you new? I don't believe we've met." She meets your eyes again.
"I started a few weeks ago." It's taking all your brain power to remember how to speak.
"You did now?" The velvety smooth tone of her voice has your mind going places it really shouldn't be rightĀ now.Ā "What is your name?" SheĀ asks.
"Ms...Msā¦" You practically forget your own last name when the scent of her floral perfume fills yourĀ nose.Ā Eventually the name tumbles out ofĀ you.Ā She repeats it, the sound makes your heart flutter aĀ bit.
"Ah, so that's you. It's lovely to finally meetĀ you.Ā I'm Lady Dimitrescu. My girls have spoken fondly of you." She holds out her hand and you pray yours isn't sweating as you takeĀ it.
"I'm glad. They're wonderful to have in class." You reply trying to keep your voiceĀ steady.
"That's good to hear." She looks down at her watch and frowns slightly as if annoyed to have toĀ leave.Ā "Well I'm looking forward to seeing youĀ again."
"Me too." You reply almost too quickly, mentally kickingĀ yourself.Ā She smirks at you again before placing her sunglasses backĀ on.Ā Wordlessly she walks back around the car and elegantly slides into the frontĀ seat.
You didn't know it was possible to be elegant doing something soĀ simple.
She gives you another nod, the girls waving happily at you from theĀ backseat.Ā You smile and wave back as they pullĀ off.
"Holy shit." You finally let out aĀ breath.
Any more interactions with Lady Dimitrescu might actually killĀ you.
so iāve seen this around a lot and i always felt like the version i listened to just. didnāt have everything? sO! i edited together my three favourite versions of the tik tok sea shanty! enjoy!!
[Image description: A photoset of a white vlogger in front of a bookshelf filled with DVDs, with the captions:Ā "How is it my responsibility, or even my place, to apologize for the actions of my ancestors? Because they did it in my name. They did it for the prosperity of their descendants. But I donāt want any benefits conferred through slavery. I know itās impossible for me to shed every single advantage that my ancestry affords me, but the least I could do is examine it. Be critical of it, to be as proactive as possible when it comes to the whole ānot being complicit in historical atrocitiesā thing. As a person of considerable privilege, I consider it my responsibility because my privilege will try to make me complicit by default.ā]
STROKE: Remember The 1st Three Lettersā¦ S.T..R ā¦
My friend sent this to me and encouraged me to post it and spread the word. I agree. If everyone can remember something this simple, we could save some folks.
STROKE IDENTIFICATION:
During a party, a friend stumbled and took a little fall - she assured everyone that she was fine and just tripped over a brick because of her new shoes. (they offered to call ambulance)
They got her cleaned up and got her a new plate of food - while she appeared a bit shaken up, Ingrid went about enjoying herself the rest of the evening. Ingridās husband called later telling everyone that his wife had been taken to the hospital - (at 6:00pm , Ingrid passed away.)
She had suffered a stroke at the party . Had they known how to identify the signs of a stroke, perhaps Ingrid would be with us today.
Some donāt die. They end up in a helpless, hopeless condition instead. It only takes a minute to read thisā¦
STROKE IDENTIFICATION:
A neurologist says that if he can get to a stroke victim within 3 hours he can totally reverse the effects of a strokeā¦totally. He said the trick was getting a stroke recognized, diagnosed, and then getting the patient medically cared for within 3 hours, which is tough.
RECOGNIZING A STROKE
Remember the ā3ā steps, STR . Read and Learn!
Sometimes symptoms of a stroke are difficult to identify. Unfortunately, the lack of awareness spells disaster.
The stroke victim may suffer severe brain damage when people nearby fail to recognize the symptoms of a stroke.
Now doctors say a bystander can recognize a stroke by asking three simple questionsĀ :
S * Ask the individual to SMILE ..
T * = TALK. Ask the person to SPEAK A SIMPLE SENTENCE (Coherently) (eg āIt is sunny out todayā).
R * Ask him or her to RAISE BOTH ARMS .
If he or she has trouble with ANY ONE of these tasks, call the ambulance and describe the symptoms to the dispatcher.
NOTEĀ : Another āsignā of a stroke is
1. Ask the person to āstickā out their tongue.
2. If the tongue is ācrookedā, if it goes to one side or the other that is also an indication of a stroke.
A prominent cardiologist says if everyone who gets this e-mail sends it to 10 people; you can bet that at least one life will be saved.
And it could be your own.
First reblog post that actually saves a life.
This is a life-saving post.
the more you know
yeah donāt think that this canāt happen to you or someone you know if theyāre young. my cousinās wife is 33 and she had a stroke last year
Iāve had a stroke. It happens to people, and the more you know about this kind of stuff, the better.Because it could be important to know.
Everyone, remember that most symptoms differ between people, since thereās a lot of arteries that provide oxygen and nutrients to the different areas of the brain that take part in various actions. Imagine that thereās a tree of arteries in your brain, so the damage differs depending on which branches have been damaged. The symptoms that you can detect more easily are lack of symmetry in any actions related to muscles (specially facial ones), and speech/gulping difficulties.
Also, even if most strokes are caused by an hemorragy, we can prevent some cardiovascular causes:
-Same as trying to prevent problems for your circulation: having a healthy diet, doing some kind of exercise, not smokingā¦ This prevents some kind of obstructions like lipid accumulation.
-Getting to know how your blood works. Iāll speak from personal/fmailiar experience. There exist some mutations in the genes involved in the coagulation process (I think three of these genes suffer mutations more frequently in the population). If you have close relatives that have suffered thrombosis episodes, both you and them should take a genetic test. While separately, these mutations rarely cause a big change, but they increase the possibility of having thrombosis by a small percentage. People with transplants are also more eager to have this kind of problem because the necessary medication, so there should be an extra effort in studying the amount of anti-coagulator dose that they take.
Having more information about your health is important, and any hematology service should provide you the chance of getting this kind of genetic test, moreover if your country has public health. I didnāt have any problems when making the request (currently Iām waiting to know the exact day of the blood extraction), but the hospital that my father visited tried to dissuade him and only study two of the three genes. I donāt think/hope this will happen to you, but if a doctor refuses to do so, argue with them as much as you can, fight for your rights. The money that a hospital has to pay in Spain for this test is around 20-30ā¬, itās nothing for them. I guess the same happens in different countries, so you deserve to get a proper diagnosis and explanation.
Perhaps you are preventing a heart disease, perhaps a brain one. Both are extremely related. You can do something, so inform yourself as much as you can.
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