#romanings

[prinzessinrosen]

romanings replied to your post: romanings asked:♒ ...

"What do you mean by that, princesse Rose?"

"You seem to have dirt on your face, leaving your marks aside. Did you hit with something dirty?"

[queenslaughter]

bête noire

Tick, tock. The clock tickled softly on the wall, each second stressed painfully and slowly, as if time's pace was being purposefully faint. Actually, given how she was basically mastering a timeless dimension, the clock was merely an object set there in a whim, to give the environment a more concrete vibe since she would never want her child to feel uncomfortable. But then again, he was never born. Well, not in every timeline, but that was another matter entirely. In fact, she chose to torment a more earthly Hiver because she was positive that his perception would have been surely stronger - hence, she would have served as a perfect nightmare for the most human of his incarnations. Not that she wanted to murder him or anything - after all, she ultimately considered death as a liberation, rather than a punishment. All Michèle wanted was a heartfelt chat with her lovely child. She wanted to know if he had become happy, just as she wished. She watched him sleep. Although he had assumed the form of a young adult - just a few years younger than she looked like -, his peaceful sleeping face resembled that of a child. An especially fair one. His expression was relaxed and serene, and he knew not what awaited him - which was what made him appealing. His naiveté was lovely, and the very thought of crushing it to pieces caused arousal to roam beneath her skin, and not a single thought of being ashamed of herself crossed her mind. Her behaviour would have been otherwise deemed as incestuous and perverse, but since there was no actual relation between her and the young man she had basically kidnapped from existence (because murdered or slaughtered are such rude words, not to mention the fact they sounded so harsh in comparison to what she actually did; all she did was cutting him off the world to have a nice chat, nothing more, nothing less) she was excused. Truth be told, she wasn't excused for anything, but that did not count much in the grand scheme of things. She was free not to take useless details in account, after all. What she intended on doing was merely enjoying Hiver's reaction at his current state. His confused motions. His frantic blabbering, short breath, fear sending chills down his spine. He wouldn't remember anything about how he ended up there. He would be weaker than anything. But that wouldn't have been really fair. If life wasn't fair, she thought, she didn't see how she was obliged to be thus. Especially given her mostly self-proclaimed position of authority. The room she created was actually a replica of the attic she was kept prisoner in. She knew every inch of that place,  and it made her sick to the stomach - but it was quite the scenery, she had to admit. It didn't even look so awful, seen from another perspective; Hiver would probably find that claustrophobic, she thought. She sank in an armchair. She could have elegantly and seductively sat there, but since no one important was looking, she decided to give priority to her own comfort, rather than manners. Michèle rested her face on her lazily clenched fist and wondered if she had to wake him up or wait for it. "Réveille-toi, fainéant", she crooned in a sultry voice, giggling lightly as she did. It all felt so unnatural that she could not help but find it rather entertaining. She hoped he would wake up soon enough not to make her fall asleep. Dimensional travelling came with quite the fatigue, but there was nothing she could actually do about that.

[prinzessinrosen]

imagine dorn pulling that one stunt in that one lady godiva painting where she rides nude on a horse but elef is with her and socks anyone in the face who looks twice at her

oh my god

Dorn + Lady Godiva = So beautiful