Monica Bellucci as Francesca in La Riffa ( 1991 )
" it's a good look on you. you should get covered in blood more often. "
the blood clung to her skin like a second layer, darkening the air around her with its heavy scent. emilia didn’t acknowledge it immediately, but there was a subtle shift in her posture as the words hit her ears.
❝ is that so? ❞
she replied, her voice as even as if she were discussing the weather — too calm for the weight of the moment. her eyes met accalia’s, sʜᴀʀᴘ and ᴄᴀʟᴄᴜʟᴀᴛɪɴɢ, as if measuring the space between them, considering her every word. ❝ you think this is a look? ❞ she added, her hand slowly rubbing the back of her neck. not to clean the blood, but to ground herself in the calm that, for a moment, seemed so out of place. ❝ i’ve worn worse. ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ'ˢ ʲᵘˢᵗ ᵇˡᵒᵒᵈ. ❞ she took a step forward, not toward accalia, but into the silence that lingered. the weight of her presence settled, heavy and deliberate, like the calm before a storm. ❝ but it’s not a look. ❞ her eyes lingered on accalia’s, colder now. ❝ people forget how easily it can stain you — how it’s never really gone. ❞ her hands, still dark with it, reached for the edge of a nearby table, fingers brushing over the surface, more out of habit than need. she didn’t look back at accalia, but her next words came quietly, almost as an afterthought ❝ and people always think they can handle it. until it’s theirs to wear. ❞ there was a finality in her tone, but no aggression. just an inevitability. a warning, soft but clear.
❝ What did you do ? ❞
emilia’s fingers tightened at her sides, but her expression remained unreadable. a flicker of something — ᴅᴇғɪᴀɴᴄᴇ, ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ, ᴏʀ sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴅᴀʀᴋᴇʀ — passed through her deep brown eyes as she held his gaze. the silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken truths, before she finally spoke.
❝ what I ᴴᴬᴰ to. ❞
there was no apology in her tone, no uoᴉʇɐuɐldxǝ offered. If he was expecting ᴳᵁᴵᴸᵀ, he would find none. whatever she had done, she wasn’t about to justify it — not to him.
Maria Denise Dessimoz, The Inevitable Anguish of Desire
𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐓 𝐁𝐀𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 . . . ( 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫 ) The Star card is a beacon of hope, renewal, and guidance after darkness. It represents faith in the future, divine inspiration, and a deep sense of serenity. These prompts explore themes of romantic healing. learn more about the star here. Themes: Hope, healing, guidance, destiny, renewal. → ∗ ⁽ ¹ ⁾ Find the collection of tarot-based scene starters.
ETERNAL: Sender cups receiver’s face and presses their foreheads together.
COSMOS: Receiver’s lips graze sender’s, their kiss slow, deep, and endless.
WANDERING STAR: Sender catches receiver staring.
ILLUMINATION: The sender and receiver stand beneath the stars.
HOPE: The sender and receiver work on a plan to take on the same enemy.
WISH: The receiver catches the sender making a wish on a falling star.
SUPERNOVA: Sender’s breath is stolen as receiver’s hands tangle in their hair, their kiss an explosion of passion.
DREAMER: Receiver watches sender sleep, fingertips tracing their neck.
FATE: The sender reveals a long-kept truth to the receiver.
HEALING TOUCH: The sender places a gentle hand on the receiver’s wounds.
CONSTELLATIONS: The receiver traces constellations on the sender’s skin while planting soft kisses.
REBIRTH: After losing everything, the sender and receiver stand together hand in hand.
DESTINED: The sender recognizes the receiver from a dream, a past life, or a vision.
+ THE STAR: Create your own prompt.
“Don’t / Accommodate: write in blood or don’t bother.”
— Sina Queyras, from “I Know a Queen That Swallowed a Sword, I Don’t Know Why She Swallowed That Sword, I Guess She’ll Cry,” My Ariel (via lifeinpoetry)
Safia Elhillo, from Girls That Never Die: Poems
" oh my god. oh my god, oh my god, what the fuck? is that what i fucking think it is? "
emilia's muscles tensed as she slowly turned to face him, her expression shifting into something colder. the air around her seemed to thrum with tension, as though she was measuring every word that came next. she was calm — too calm perhaps — her voice sliced through the air like a blade when she turned around to face the source of her irritation.
❝ keep your voice ᴰᴼᵂᴺ. ❞
her eyes ᵘˢᵘᵃˡˡʸ ʷᵃʳᵐ ᵃⁿᵈ ᶦⁿᵛᶦᵗᶦⁿᵍ were now frozen, and beneath the cold was a burning intensity — one that whispered of past battles faced. ❝ and don’t ask questions you don’t want the answers to. ❞ emilia took a small step closer, her presence suddenly feeling like a ᵂᴬᴿᴺᴵᴺᴳ.