Charactermoodboard - Blog Posts

Dropped in blood like Cain dropped Abel.

And they said to him, you need never leave this place to see mortality like ours. Like theirs. Like us. Like you.

But he heard her calling through the glass plane of the mirror to the lands of the Raven King. Where magic is dead. Where memories go to die.

They didn't want him there. But she paid her gold coins in advance and bound them in blood.

Blood dropped, like Cain dropped Abel.

{[ @rubydart @rubydian || It's coming. See you on the other side, Mr. Wick ]}

Judeth Clayton: Queen, Disrupted

Don’t Tear Away From Me

I Need You to Hold On To

How Can This Mean Anything To Me?

When All You Do Is Keep Bleeding Through

|||

My history is written in Blood & Gold

I am Judeth Clayton; Queen, Interrupted

I am Judeth Clayton; Queen, Disrupted

{{[[ @f0rtis-fortuna-adiuvat   ||  @lalienna-dementriento ]]}}

Come to dinner, wear a dress.

I came to dinner

He invited me

I wore a dress

In black

For him

He watched me over the dinner table

Refilled my wine

Reminded me to breathe

Though I forgot long ago how to live.

All You Can't Leave Behind

She gave this to me...

Before she left

And you made me watch it die.

How long did you think I'd let you live?

I would have ended you, Judeth

I had every intention

Now I'm not sure

You'll ever leave

{[ @f0rtis-fortuna-adiuvat - @lalienna-dementriento ]}

Be seeing you, Mr. Wick

Jagged Edges

Even Gods may bleed out

Against my hands

In love

Out of hope

Out of time

Out of my mind

Stay...

Black Arts

“Have you really thought this through? I mean, really chewed it down to the bone? You dip so much as a pinky back into this pool and you’ll find that something very nasty will reach out and drag you back in.”

Be seeing you, Mr. Wick.

I need you, John.

I need you like a drug.

I need you even though you’re hurting me.

How I do refuse you when you look at me like that?

How do we stop destroying each other?

When I can’t say no.

No, to you.

The Crown

Yes, we are Princes of Darkness.

Blue Bloods of Crime.

We wear the Camorra Crown.

And once you’re in, you’ll never get out.

Not alive anyway.

Two Thrones

“Wear a dress.” He told her.

She was hot and cold at once. The way he made her feel, with just the sound of his voice.

And she knew the time would come when they’d take it all from her. It’s not that she didn’t welcome the change. It’s that she feared the cost was more than she was prepared to pay.

Two Thrones reared to her left and right.

One held by the Prince of Rome, the other by the Knight of the Underworld.

How could she refuse them?

They’d cut her vein into a wine glass and watched her grow cold.

She could read between the lines with their fangs in her throat.

Nothing was at it seemed.

She put on her battle dress and prepared for war.

"Fuck... daddy!"

Mmh.

Yeah.

He liked that.

That felt good.

The way she rubbed herself against him. Touched him, kissed him. It was erotic. Hot. He knew deep down he shouldn't touch her. This was the bosses' girl. But she was so... Hungry? Yeah, she made him hard. He caught himself staring. Those heels, those legs, those hips, that ass. Damn. Boss is a lucky man. He wanted a piece of that action. But Nah man. His brothers elbowed his ribs. Shook there heads. Look but don't touch they said. Okay. So he tried to not satisfy himself remembering the night he watched his boss eat that pussy down the length of a scope.

That made him cum hard. Way harder than was prudent. And he'd gotten hot with his boss before. Been a daddy then too. The Prince came home, pissed off, hurt after a bad fight in the streets. So he got him cleaned up, got him a drink. Lit him a smoke. Rubbed him down like a lathering horse. Right there, between his legs. Great big Italian cock. Felt good in his hands. Both boys got... Experimental. Good night. Really good night. He was on guard duties a lot more after that. But this!? The bosses' dancer. Yeah, he made her dance. Deep. Against his tongue. Made her watch as he sucked her deep into his mouth and roll under pleasure. He didn't make her beg. Just focused on getting her there. Three times.

Mmh. Now he understood what Tino tasted in her. Sweet. Lusty. He liked performing for her. And yeah, he even had a tattoo on the underside of his cock in a calligraphic script that read the words ' Until it hurts'. He liked cumming for her. Moaning and grinding his hips. He almost asked her to get on. He was a big boy but he knew she'd adjust. Girls always did. He wanted to know what she felt like on the inside. But he didn't ask. Touching himself under her eyes was enough. He loved being her attack dog. In the morning. No regrets. He cleaned her up. Fed and kissed her. Sent her back to her Papi. ‘Cos Tino was a stud. He deserved to be tapping that. He'll, he almost did. But he made her promise. No calls, no texts. No marks on her body. Just a knock on his door. Late. After work. Glass of wine. Good meal. He'd go hungry just to eat her. Fuck. He was addicted to this rush.

"Wanna touch it, baby?" His body. Her fingers over the words. He wanted to purr for her.

Until it hurts.

{[ @lalienna-dementriento @f0rtis-fortuna-adiuvat   || You aren’t the only one that did a thing. I did it too. And we are taking this too far. Right to the end of the line. It’s sinfully delicious, the mess this Camorra crew are capable of getting themselves into when it comes to love. ]}

Daddy. Not Papi

@laserglassspider - @f0rtis-fortuna-adiuvat // I uh...did a thing...and uhm...yeah.

———

“I can’t sleep. Hector is with someone...Ares is with Santino...tony and Marcus and I aren’t that close. Can I-“

She didn’t even have to finish. Christov let his door swing open completely, allowing her entrance. She thanked him softly, stepping past him. She left her shoes neatly by the door, noticing now that her coworker wore only loose fitted pants. She had never seen all of his tattoos. Her eyes trailed down his chest, the bear on his abdomen baring it’s fangs at her. She smiled slightly, making her way around him to his back. He stayed still, allowing her to check him out. Like a cat stalking something. Or a wolf. Seeing if he was a friend or foe.

“I was your last choice? Ouch.” His hand went to his check in mock hurt. His voice was husked from sleep, the gravel of his tone making her stomach flip. She laughed slightly, backing off from him, distracting her eyes by taking in his rooms.

“No, I just...didn’t want to annoy you or bother you. You may have company.” She suggested with a dark tone, a smirk on her lips. She never saw the women he was with. He was discrete. Shuffled them in and out quickly. Never staying overnight. She didn’t know what his type was. He chuckled, shaking his head.

“Just missed them.” He teased. “Come on, babygirl. You know you can always come to me, right? How long have you been up?” It was past four am. She debated just getting ready for the day. Still, she wore shorts and a thin strapped tank top, eyes tired and dark under her eyes.

“I haven’t gone to sleep yet...” she admitted.

“God, woman! Let’s go. Bed. Now.” He pointed, directing her to his bedroom. His tone threw her off, swallowing thickly as a slight arousal washed over her. No, no. She was tired and missing her papi. Her papi... she missed him. So so much. That was all. She wasn’t fighting a slight shaking of her thighs as he commanded her...

She obeyed his commands, biting her lip. The bed was messed as he had been sleeping. A half finished wine glass sat atop the bedside table. She looked to him, a suggestive smile, cheeky. He took care of his women.

“Long day.” He corrected. “Earlier was a joke. There were no guests over tonight beside you. You may rest easy knowing the sheets are virgin of a woman’s touch.

She blushed, turning her head. She crawled onto the mattress, the crisp white sheets smelling of him. He took residence on the other side, yawning deeply.

“Sorry to wake you. Thank you.” She met his eyes.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Get some sleep. I’ll protect you.” His eyes shimmered with something...she couldn’t place what it was. Her eyes traveled down his ink, awed at the dark marks. A smile appeared on his face, laying on his back so she could see better.

“Wanna touch em?”

“Can I?” She asked, slightly afraid to. He nodded, amusement on his features.

“I’m not gonna hurt you.im you’re attack dog, babygirl. Promise I don’t bite...that hard.”

“I do.” She mumbled without much thought, smiling sheepishly as she realized what she said. She avoided his dark gaze, instead looking at his shoulder. She reached out, running her fingers down his arm, tracing a head of a cobra. It’s tongue was frozen on its lower lip, fangs tearing up at her. He seemed to have a whole zoo on his arm. A flower bloomed on his forearm. On his elbow was a spider web.

“Do they have meanings?” She asked like a bewildered child. She was entranced by their beauty, the sexiness. She liked the pain when she was given her coat of arms. It was erotic and sensual. She fed from it. Did he like the pain as well?

“Some. A lot are drunken night when I was younger.” Christov answered, blinking slowly, wanting to capture this moment forever. Goosebumps rose where her fingers landed. She brushed over his strong hands, veins prominent. She nearly moaned, imagining his grip around her throat. Tattoos everywhere, even on his fingers.

“What’s...this one from?” She pointed to a bird on his wrist, pulling his hand closer to her to examine it.

“That was in Vienna. Maybe three years ago. I saw a bird while on the job and I liked it. I got the guy to draw it pretty exact.”

She met his eyes, nodding slightly.

“Pretty. Or...whatever you’re supposed to call men’s tattoos. Handsome?” She asked herself, laughing. “It’s sexy.” She decided finally. Next she went to his neck, tracing tentacles along his skin. Some type of octopus. They went all along his neck, to the back of it and spreading to his shoulders. She grunted slightly, motioning for him to turn. He did, lying now on his stomach. She straddled his back, licking her lips.

“This okay?” She asked. He chuckled. She could feel him underneath her...

“Yeah, baby.” God, his voice...

She prayed he couldn’t feel her arousal through her shorts, hating herself for feeling this way. She wasn’t his. He wasn’t hers. They worked together. Co workers. He acted as her protector... like a brother. But she didn’t want him as a brother right now... his boss was her boyfriend. Yet, she stayed as she was, moving up his back, scratching her nails gently back down. He sighed, eyes shutting as he relaxed. The day had worn him out. Running errands for his boss like a slave all day even though he was in another country. Leaving his Spanish flower alone...unattended....horny...it was almost as though he was asking for her to get fucked. Maybe that’s why he took ares. Because he knew they were frisky. He probably didn’t think that Lalienna would try anything with his other men. Hector was an obvious no. They were close siblings. Hector was her brother by association. It would be weird. She never thought of him that way. She didn’t really notice Christov either...she knew he was handsome. Sexy. But she hadn’t become aroused by him. Not until tonight. Tattoos...his tattoos against his flesh. The way his muscles contracted and expanded as he moved. Breathed. She was a mess.

Lalienna didn’t know what came over her. Whether she was possessed or simply went insane, but she bent down and kissed the back of his neck, tracing the ink with her finger. That was fine. It was a chaste kiss...but she didn’t stop there. Oh no... she kept going.

Her tongue then traced the tentacle under his hairline, clawing at his shoulder slightly. Maybe that was a bit risqué...but it could be fine. If she had stopped....

Kissing to the crook of his neck, hands roaming his back... she bared her fangs like the snake on his arm, sinking her teeth into the flesh above his shoulder blade. And she had moaned, rolling her hips involuntary against him. His eyes opened, moving his neck to allow better access for her lips. She was given permission, not denied this pleasure. Her lips ghosted his ear, whispering darkly.

“You’re my attack dog? Then attack.” Her sultry tone, her lips against his skin, her hands, her hips grinding against him drove him insane. He was quick to move, her falling against the mattress barely having enough time to react as he pinned her down, holding her chin. Those eyes. Boring into her, ripping her heart out, lighting a fire inside of her flower. She burned with passion and arousal, biting her lip suggestively, writhing underneath him slightly.

‘Do something....please.’ She eyed him. He growled huskily; it drove her mad, arching her back off the mattress to feel him...his erection. She shivered in delight knowing he was enjoying this as much as she was.

“You’re not my papi. But you can be my daddy for the night.” She whispered in his ear, tugging on his lobe as she brought her head back against the sheets. Another growl.

Papi was passionate. It was personal. An emotional name she had given Santino. Her caregiver.

Daddy held no meaning. Simply someone she wanted in the moment. Christov had been called daddy many times before by many women. He held that aura. He was powerful, strong, a daddy. He enjoyed it. It was a turn on. Maybe a fetish. And now...this young Spanish maiden was begging for him.

“Santino would kill me. And you...you know this, babygirl.” He said in a semi defeated tone. She shrugged, giggling.

“Yes, if we fucked.”

His eyebrow raised, catching her hint. Sex...what was the textbook definition? A male penetrating a female with his manhood... so...that meant that head and oral weren’t sex by definition...

That also meant that when his thumb found her erect nipple from under her shirt that...it wasn’t sex. It was fine. And, when but at her neck, that it was okay. She pushed him slightly though, shaking her head.

“No marks. No hickeys. Okay?” She grabbed his face, narrowing her eyes.

“Yes ma’am.” He answered, dipping his lower half of his body against hers. Her legs spread for him, wrapping around his waist. She rolled her eyes, laughing.

“You’re older than me, daddy.” She watched as his eyes darkened, lust washing over him. She smiled, nipping at his lower lip. She found the waistband of his pants, palming his arousal through the fabric. He groaned hotly, attacking her lips as he pushed her flat against the mattress. His hand snakes up her shirt, squeezing her breast over her bra. She thanked her past self for dressing in purple lace tonight. He was careful as his lips trailed down her body to her stomach to not mark her. She watched with intense curiosity as his tattooed hands ran up her thighs, up her shorts. She whimpered, shivering in ecstasy. She throbbed against his touch.

“Daddy...Christov...”

she had said his name before, sure. When’s he greeted him or wanted his attention. But never like this...the breathy pleasurable sigh. Like a prayer fleeting from her lips. He craved it.

She pushed herself up in her elbows, pulling him into a passionate kiss, her tongue dancing with his.

“Lay down.” She whispered hurriedly, lifting the tank top from her body, placing it to the side. She resisted the urge to fold it, shaking herself from the thought. She’d be fine.... no, she wouldn’t. She folded it, shimmying out of her shorts as well and folding them, returning to her dark lover of tonight. She adored his ink, kissing up his arms while she straddled his abdomen, his hands on her hips and pushing his groin up against her ass. The thin fabric of his pants and her underwear did little to interrupt grinding his manhood along her skin. She gasped, gripping his shoulders, biting her lip to suppress a moan.

“I want to hear you, princess.”

“We’re going to get a noise complaint, daddy. Besides, do you really think it’s a good idea to be loud when tony is not five doors down?” She now moved between his legs, but not before he pushed her down against his chest, grabbing her barely covered butt, bringing her heat hard against him. She moaned then, hiding her face in his chest as she sighed and groaned, nipping at his flesh in a frenzy.

“Fuck, daddy....”

her eyes traveled up to his as she kissed just above the fabric, licking her lips in anticipation. She wanted to taste him. Intended to. But he was faster, flipping them once more, tsking.

“No, baby. You’re the one who can’t sleep. Let me wear you out.” A dirty smirk on his lips. He dipped his head to lick up her flower above the fabric teasingly.

“Daddy!” She whined, gripping the sheets. He chuckled against her, nose rubbing against her bundle of nerves. Finally he ripped the fabric from her body, tearing the fibers. She gasped, panting in need. His tongue lapped at her opening, demanding her eyes. He would fuck her with his tongue and make her keep eye contact. Again and again he sucked, licked, teasing her with his mouth. Anytime she shut her eyes or moved them from his gaze, he would stop, waiting for her attention once more. She hated him for this, but quickly learned to keep contact, needing his attention on her needy core. She came hard against his tongue, nearly screaming his name along with a string of Spanish curses, gripping his hair. All while looking into those eyes. Christov licked her clean like a dog devouring a meal, moaning softly against her flower. She tried to protest against him continuing, wanting to repay him. He simply shushed her with a gentle nibble against her clit. That shut her up quickly, falling apart quickly after. She came three times before passing out from exhaustion, mumbling a Thanks as christov tucked her in, kissing her forehead. He held a sly grin on his lips, stroking himself slowly till he got off, the memory of her moans and taste still on his tongue being enough to send him over the edge. He fell back against the mattress, and Lalienna curled herself into him, sleeping soundly.

“All you gotta do is ask, babygirl. I’ll take care of you.” He mumbled into her hair, eyes becoming heavy as he too fell into a slumber.

Bleed like me.

Keanu Reeves’ filmography: John Wick (2014)

I was wrong.

I sinned against you.

I've always known I was beneath you.

Your dog.

You've always cut me, down to the bone.

And I've never been strong enough to fight you off.

Even if I told myself otherwise.

Stop it. Stop hurting me.

I've got no soul to sell.

I gave you the last piece.

It's killing me.

Losing you like this.

Help me get away from myself.

You bring me closer to God.

{Don't make me sleep alone.}

When you love till it hurts....

"You must travel dark hallways to get there. And it is a place of sin. The Red Door stands as the gateway to abandon. And you'll do anything if they let you in." ~ Sable

{| @lalienna-dementriento @f0rtis-fortuna-adiuvat |}

I bled. I cried. I apologized.

Now forgive me.

————

There’s something sinister and cruel about making someone wait. They know what’s coming. They know the storm is on its way. But when...thats the real trouble. When will it come? When. When. When. When?! But that was your plan, wasn’t it? She marked me, so you marked me worse. You made me wait... to think about my sins. You asked me if it was worth it. If she was worth it.

No. Never. Because I fucking want you. Only you. And I’d choose you again and again. I’d tear my heart out for you. I’d break my own bones, my ankles and dance for you. I would bring you the moon if you asked for it. I’d break myself if it’d mean you’d be okay. So here I sit with my sin. And I wait. And wait. And wait...wondering when.

Yes, I made her wait. I shut her out. Shut her down. And it killed me to do it. I shouldn't have marked her. I shouldn't have theatened her. But I was suffering, bleeding out. She didn't see it. The way she held me under. Drowning me.

Have mercy lover. I won't survive you like this. There's a piece of the painting that's been slashed away forever. Why did it have to be the wings?

John Wick: Blood & Gold || I am John Wick

I am John Wick.

Excommunicato survivor.

Assassin.

Son of the Ruska Roma. Orphan of the World.

Servant of The High Table.

~ I TRADE gold for blood. For refuge. For peace.

~ I BLEED wrath. My sanity leaves me. I have you in focus.

~ I BIND souls in markers. In wedding rings. In faithful dogs.

~ I SERVE my vows. Determined purpose in high fidelity.

~ I BATTLE my conscience, your courage, the house that holds me.

~ I SURVIVE my penance. One piece at a time. Live for me. So I may take you down.

 I am John Wick. My history is written in Blood & Gold. I am the first to save you. I am the last to stand at your side.

 I believe in Black Angels.

I believe in Judeth Clayton. "

|| Fortis Fortuna Adiuvat ||

John Wick: Blood & Gold  || I am Judeth Clayton

“I am Judeth Clayton. Thirteenth Hand Maid of Iron Fortuna. I am to ascend the English throne. The twelfth seat of The High Table.

~ I BLEED love, hemorrhaging as a warrior, a lover, a wife, a mother.

~ I HONOUR my superiors, the Table, the Crown, my vows, your words.

~ I CHERISH the air I breathe, the time you spend, the bullets I shed.

~ I SERVE because I was born enslaved. These chains will not stop me.

~ I BREED resentment, hatred, glorious violence.

~ I YIELD because you saved me when I could not save myself. Now it’s you I serve when I should have drowned.

I am Judeth Clayton. My history is written in Blood & Gold. I am the first to save you. I am the last to stand at your side.

I believe in Black Angels.

I believe in John Wick.”

 || Fortis Forunta Adiuvat ||