#lemon dawn ray

[adore-laur]

MOTHER’S DAY

— a self-explanatory blurb from the dadrry universe 🌷

——

Toss. Turn. Sigh. Repeat.

Postpartum anxiety kept hitting you in explosive bursts like crash cymbals. Intrusive worries about whether your newborn was breathing or not ruthlessly stormed your brain. Surging heart palpitations that ebbed and flowed like the ocean tide weren't helping your internally erratic state. 

She hadn't wailed those gut-wrenching cries in over an hour. It was a brief slot of time to catch up on your precious slumber, yet your melatonin was overrun by an influx of cortisol. Due to your ruptured sleep schedule, there was also a stinging sensation behind your eyelids. It felt like chlorine or lemon juice had seeped into your sockets ever since day and night swapped places. 

The speckled sky of stars trickled through the linen drapes, painting moonbeams on the bedroom carpet and walls. By the looks of it, you'd undoubtedly be awake to behold the moment they metamorphosed into golden rays of dawn. 

Heart thumping, stomach churning, and chest constricting, you surrendered your chance of a reposeful night of rest and silently slid out of bed. Harry was gently snoring on his side, facing away from you and dead to the world. Lucky him.

You padded over to the bassinet across the room. The moon made it visible enough to see the tiny bundle that was half you and half your husband sleeping there. Your trembling hand reached down and lightly rested on your daughter's belly. It had become a habit lately. Your eyes couldn't help but snap open in the middle of the night, the insomnia-induced anxiety getting you on your feet to check if the human you were responsible for was still alive. 

When you felt her fast breaths, relief immediately flooded your bloodstream. You stayed by her until you were at ease with the steady rise and fall of her chest, then eventually tucked yourself back under the covers and leaned against the headboard. You were wide awake now, and it seemed like it would be another all-nighter. Jealousy festered inside you because of Harry and how he could effortlessly sleep through the night without panic. He'd been so gracious with heaving himself out of bed and calming the baby whenever it was his turn, a true natural when you needed it most. And during those instances, you pretended to be asleep so you didn't worry him. It was hard enough soothing one agitated person, let alone two. 

The clock on the nightstand flicked from 2:36 to 2:37. You bit your fingernails to pass the time. The weight and warmth of Harry beside you pulled you back down to earth, reminding you that you weren't doing this on your own. He was cheering you on, on the same page, and loving you unconditionally. 

Almost as if he could hear your reeling thoughts about him, you heard his snores get cut short by a deep inhale before his hand subconsciously flopped against your thigh. Fatigued fingers felt around until his warm, heavy palm spread on your skin, giving it a tender squeeze. He then rolled onto his stomach with a raspy grunt and turned his head to face you. 

In the faint moonlight, puffy eyes and a drowsy smile said hello. They greeted you with a gentleness that washed away the burdensome stones on your chest. He made you feel calm. Just one glance at him was the only solace you needed. 

He was a tired, tired boy. Technically, he was a grown man, but moments like these revealed that he was just a boy adjusting to the wearing reality of parenthood.

"Sorry for waking you," you whispered, raking your fingers through his disheveled hair. It was still a little damp from his nightly shower. 

"Did I sleep through her cries?" Harry murmured hoarsely, his eyelids drooping until they shut again. 

"No. I just got up to check on her."

He hugged your leg like it was a pillow. "Why? What happened?" 

You could've lied. Or you could've given him what he always asked of you: the whole and honest truth. The latter was the wisest choice, considering he could read you like a family recipe. 

"I had to make sure she was breathing," you admitted. 

Harry was eerily quiet. You thought he might have fallen back asleep, but suddenly, the room illuminated in a yellow glow from the bedside lamp being switched on. It strained your vision for a few seconds, and after blearily blinking through it, you looked at Harry to find him sitting up with the silk sheets bunched around his waist. He yawned loudly, then scooted over to draw you into his body. A trace of citrus aftershave still lingered on his skin. 

"Can't sleep?" he asked, his lips moving against your temple. 

Your cheek melted on his warm, bare shoulder. "Ever since we brought her home, my anxiety has been eating me alive at night. I'm constantly worried about her, even when she's not crying." 

Harry planted chaste kisses on your face. Through slow, sleepy affection, he said, "She's okay. Nothing bad is going to happen." 

"You don't know that." 

"I know she's safe and sound, all snug in the bassinet six feet away from us." When you didn't respond, he added, "If you want, we can move it next to your side of the bed." 

You clutched his hand, loving the smoothness of his palm and how large it was compared to yours. "Can we? Please? I want her close just in case." 

Nodding, Harry brought your joined hands up to his mouth and kissed your knuckles. "Let's do it tomorrow so we don't wake her, yeah? We all need sleep right now." 

"Okay. Can you scratch my back? And talk to me?" 

"Of course, sweetheart. Turn around." 

You did, and it didn't take long for him to lift your shirt so his delicate fingers could stroke along the expanse of your back. Goosebumps spread everywhere as you sank deeper into the mattress. The way his touch could envelop you in a blanket of comfort was miraculous. 

"Your postpartum checkup is in a couple of weeks," Harry mentioned, his mellow voice quickly putting a sleep spell on you. "We'll talk to the doctor about everything that's been going on, okay?" He shifted on the bed. "Listen, I get scared too. All I want is to protect her. When she cries, I feel helpless. But we're learning, aren't we? We'll be professionals by the time we're four kids in." 

You couldn't squash the craziness of his last statement because distant dream waves finally carried you away and let you drift in calm waters for the first time in a long time. 

—— 

A serenade of songbirds awoke you the following morning. Then, it was a slight breeze coming from somewhere. You soon realized there was no familiar dip in the mattress next to you, no blazing hot skin glued to you, and no soft puffs of air against your neck. You firmly decided that you loathed the feeling of a cold and empty bed in the morning. 

Stretching until your joints cracked, you squinted from the blinding sunlight gloriously casting over the side of the bed you lay on. The clock displayed 9:04, which was the latest time you had slept in since your third trimester of pregnancy. On top of the clock was a piece of paper you didn't recall seeing yesterday, the type of paper on which you and Harry wrote grocery items on. The familiar handwriting of your husband, which was a tad illegible but endearing nonetheless, had you reaching out and plucking the note from its place. 

Happy Mother's Day. 

Meet me on the beach when you wake up. Baby has already been changed, fed, and everything in between. Sunday breakfast on the shore, made by yours truly, awaits you. 

I love you so much. Thank you for completing me. 

~ Harry 

It entirely slipped your mind that it was Mother's Day — your first one. You'd been too caught up in a whirlwind of emotions, trying to capture a peaceful moment. Needless to say, you didn't even know what day of the week it was sometimes. Apparently, today was worth celebrating. 

After freshening up and tying a robe around yourself, you trod down the staircase. The late spring weather engulfed your senses as the kitchen came into view. The shutters were swung open, letting in gleaming sunshine and a gentle wind that felt like a welcoming embrace. It lifted your spirits instantly and caused you to temporarily forget about last night's troubles. 

You ventured to the beach area, the sand under your uncovered feet enlivening your drained state. Once the ocean became visible, you quickly stumbled upon an unexpected surprise. Harry, the human epitome of sunshine, stood there holding a tray with a vase of blooming flowers, a cup of steaming tea, and breakfast foods such as a peeled clementine, poached eggs, and a golden-brown waffle drizzled with maple syrup. He was in his pinstriped pajamas with sunglasses covering his eyes. Behind him, your daughter lay in a portable baby dome that shielded her from the sunny sky. She was sleeping on her back, her limbs bent adorably. You didn't recall hearing her cry after you finally managed to doze off last night. 

Barefoot with a radiant smile dimpling his sun-kissed face, Harry met you halfway, setting the tray down on a nearby blanket spread out. His arms opened in invitation. You would have jumped in them if you had the energy, merely because his spontaneous thoughtfulness made you want to tackle him and never let him go—lovingly, of course. 

"Make way for the goddess," he said, taking his sunglasses off and eyeing you up and down. 

Makeup-less, half asleep, and moving at the sluggish speed of a sloth, you felt—and probably looked—far from a goddess. But when your husband looked at you like he wanted to eat you for breakfast instead, the tiniest flicker of confidence sparked inside of you. 

"Good morning," you greeted, smiling softly. 

Harry's hands instinctively splayed on your waist, his fingers digging into the cotton fabric of your robe. He was sporting a dopey expression, and you wondered if he got as little sleep as you did. 

Enduring delirious mornings with him had slowly become your favorite domestic kryptonite. When he'd crack ridiculous jokes amidst a quick, lazy round of sex before the baby interrupted, or when he would shuffle around the kitchen making an insufficient meal while accidentally putting the milk jug in the pantry out of pure exhaustion. 

"Let me guess," he said with an exhale, "you forgot it was Mother's Day?" 

You squeezed him tight and breathed in the faint smell of lavender fabric softener on his pajamas. "Can you blame me? I'm practically a zombie most days." You kissed him slowly, tasting the sweet and sticky syrup residue on his lips. "Mm, but thank you for everything. You take such good care of me." 

"Someone's gotta do it," he told you, earnestness lacing his words. 

"I'm trying, I really am. Motherhood is... very grueling." 

"I know, darling. Whatever you need, let me know, and I'll help as best I can." 

You touched his cheeks, absorbing the sun's heat that graced them. "I want to take care of you too. I notice how tired you are." 

He fell into deep thought, and after staring at you for a moment with his eyes dancing over your entire face, he said, "Let's bring back date nights. When was the last time we went out, just the two of us? We can get someone to babysit, then go out on the town like we used to." 

"Can part of our date night involve taking a nap?" you asked, propping your chin on his chest. 

Harry glanced down at you, his green irises clear and happy. "Absolutely." 

"Sounds like a plan." You laughed at its absurdity. How did we go from 'I can't wait to marry you' to 'I can't wait to nap with you'? What has parenting done to us?" 

He tilted his head with a lopsided grin. "It's made me fall in love with you all over again." 

"Even when there's spit-up on my clothes?" 

"Uh-huh," he said, locking you in his hold. "And when you're burping a cranky baby while eating your first meal of the day well past noon. And when you're breastfeeding while sending work emails, your hair unbrushed, and my shirt hanging off your body. There's nothing sexier." 

Truthfully, he wasn't joking around. And you knew that one day, you'd find simplistic beauty in those things as well. 

"I'm a real sight for sore eyes." 

Harry kissed your forehead, swaying you to the sound of the waves meeting the shore and then receding. "You have no idea." 

——

#harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #harry styles x reader #harry styles fluff #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic #dadrry #dad!harry #dilfrry #harry styles #adore-laur #mother’s day

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

HANDS OH YOU — 020

IN WHICH; ILAND 2 happened and you debuted first place as the leader of LUMIÉRE. Having been told that your group is involved in a lore crossover with ENHYPEN, you navigate work, friendship, and love while trying to make it in an industry filled with animosity and condemnation. When life throws you lemons, you gotta make lemonades chuck it right back!

smau + written (0.3k words)

❥･• chapter 20 — trouble? travel!

You startle, jumping out of your seat as the sound of Ray's door slams shut, her hurriedly throwing on her jumper as she prepares to leave. "Ray, where are you going? It's late, and we have an early schedule tomorrow," you call out, but she pays no attention. She slips on her shoes and is out the door before you can even comprehend what's happening.

"Was she... crying?" Minjung asks, her knife freezing mid-spread over her toast and it dawns on you that, indeed, tears were streaming down Ray's face.

Minutes pass, stretching into hours, and worry begins to consume your chest. It's no secret among you and your fellow members that beneath Ray's tough exterior lies a delicate soul, so the mere thought of her out there, alone and upset, drives you completely mad.

Swiftly, you retrieve your phone and dial her number just for it to go to voicemail like it did 5 minutes ago. It's clear she doesn't want any of you to find her. Determined not to give up, you decide to try your luck with the ENHYPEN members.

"Jungwon?" you hurriedly speak into the phone, relieved when it's answered. However, confusion sets in when you hear the familiar voice of, not Jungwon, but Sunghoon. “Jungwon’s busy at the moment, but I can pass on your message," he says, his tone tinged with agitation. Though curious, you choose not to question it.

"Oh, Sunghoon, it's nothing important. I just wanted to check if any of you have heard from Ray?”

"Ray? she’s not at home?"

"No, she rushed out of the apartment two hours ago, and we haven't been able to reach her. It may sound foolish, but I really just wanted to check if any of you had seen her-" The line suddenly goes dead.

“Ray’s missing?” You look up to see Aejeong step out of her room half-asleep, it seems the noise woke her up. You frantically nod, catching you by surprise when you see her smirking instead of being concern that Ray was in fact, missing.

“Jungwon won’t know where she is,” AJ starts, referring to the phone call that had just ended, “maybe you’ll have more luck with Sunghoon.” She snickers while still absentmindedly rubbing her eyes.

“-after all, they’ve been dating for awhile now.”

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♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: stayc girls, it’s going down… :D also tiny update the smau will have approximately around 45 chapters? that’s where i’m estimating to end 💀 (future author: this is a lie)

taglist! open @softiehee @annoyingbitch83 @hoon0logy @aernx @lhees01 @flower0930 @harperwasstaken1 @haechansbbg @renjunoya

#belift #enhypen #heeseung #hybe #jay #jungwon #sunghoon #heeseung x reader #idol au #iland #jakesim #sunoo #nishimura riki #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen social media au #enha smau #heeseung smau #enhypen smau #tfwy handsonyou #jake sim #jake #kpop smau #smau

[jnnul]

your love is my favorite color (enhypen)

a/n: so...this was kinda based off of my synesthesia...i don't rlly have any explanation for this or anything otherwise. hope u guys like it!

genre: pure fluff, just different types of love in different types of ways, idk man it's cute it's sweet it's a word vomit that's all i got for u tw: mentions of arguments, and once again, emotional constipation w sunghoon sorry

word count: 1.3k

YANG JUNGWON

gif creds: @jeonwonwoo

jungwon is orange

his love is quiet, but dynamic in a juxtaposition that only he can make work

he's the space between the moon and the sun when they recede in the sky because loving jungwon is loving in limbo

he's the vibrant ocher of dusk, when golden hour is making your skin glow and jungwon swears up and down he's never seen a prettier sight

he's the languid peachy rays of dawn, when he's sending you good morning texts before starting his busy day

he's the amber of his eyes when he's trying to memorize every single detail of your face when you fall asleep on call

he's the ginger of the cookies you bake him when you know he's been having a tough time

he's the cinnamon of your perfume when he seeks the comfort of your arms after spending so much time apart on tour

LEE HEESEUNG

gif creds: @simleez

heeseung is yellow

his love is the simplest way that he understands the world, much like the simplest color of them all; through your heart and yellow

he's the color of the tuscan sun on a vacation that he's had to spend months planning in secret because that's the way he loves you

he's the butterscotch of the flowers that he sends you when he's on tour

his love is the marigold of the sweater that you wear to his concert, hidden in the crowd but heeseung can recognize you from a mile away

he is the lemon color of the childish bracelets the two of you make together in the safety of his dorm

he is the gold of the necklace you buy him for your anniversary that he keeps in his pocket no matter where he goes

his love is the honey that seems to drip from his eyes every time he looks at you because sometimes, he can't believe how lucky he is

PARK JONGSEONG

gif creds: @hooned

jay is purple

loving him is a regal, almost noble act that is the same color as the once coveted hue of the kings and queens of the world

he is the sangria that stains your lips when the two of you go wine tasting as your first date

he is the periwinkle that dangles in front of your eyes when he shows you the earrings he had spent hours crafting for you

his love is the violet blanket that you sob into when he leaves you for the first time on tour and that's the only thing in your home that still smells like him weeks later

he is the mulberry of his favorite dress on you because he knows how hard you worked to feel good wearing it

he is the amethyst that you decorate his dorm room with to make him think of you when you're not with him

his love is the mauve of the paper he uses to write you love letters because he's a hopeless romantic and you're his muse

SIM JAEYOON

gif creds: @jjsungie

jake is red

falling in love with him is a whirlwind passion hidden within two hearts, covered in the color of passion and romance

he is the cherry of the lipstick that's printed on his collar after a night of possessive love

his love is the blush that rises in his cheeks when you tell him you love him for the first time because he's never known what it's like to be loved in this way

he is the crimson of the neon lights around you in this downtown, while he's holding your hand tight - as if you would disappear if he let go

he is the rose of the flowers that he gives you on your one year anniversary, the adrenaline rush of youth finally starting to fade into something else

his love is the garnet of his sweater when you're tucked into his chest at home on a friday night, instead of clubbing because he realizes he's okay being anywhere as long as it's with you

jake is the scarlet of the dress you wear when you hold his hand and walk into the company building to declare that you were going to take the next step of your relationship

PARK SUNGHOON

gif creds: @jaeyxns

sunghoon is blue

loving him is like loving a tsunami of a man; harsh at times, but the rain always give way to the sunshine

he is the navy of his blazer that he's wearing the first time he meets you, not sparing a second glance when he bumps into you

sunghoon is the azure of the napkins on the table the second time he meets you - and this time, he can't take his eyes off of you

he is the denim of your skirt when he tells you that he can't be with you because...because he's not sure he deserves you

his love is the sapphire of the keychain you gave him on his bag that makes his heart thump against his chest when he remembers the look in your eyes when he left you

he is the cobalt of the wall that he kisses you senseless against as he tries to make up for lost time. to convince you that he's still worth your time.

he is the ocean blue of the waves you're running into, watching you with a smile and a heart so content, he's ready to give it all up for you

KIM SUNOO

gif creds: @get-lit

sunoo is green

his love is perhaps the easiest thing in the world; loving him is easy and comfortable. like breathing a breath of fresh air.

he is the pistachio of the couch that you insist looks good in the living room of the apartment you've just moved into with him (he begs to differ)

he is the basil of the sofa you actually decided on, pressing an excited kiss to sunoo's cheek when he agrees

he is the seafoam of the mugs that you had bought for the two of you; the same mugs that you swat away from jungwon when he accidentally tries to take it

his love is the emerald of the necklace that rises and falls with every breath you take in your sleep and he can't believe that he gets to wake up to this every day for the rest of his life

he is the lime of the box of tissues you've been continuously pulling out of after a particularly bad argument. he wordlessly replenishes the box.

sunoo is the mint of the ice cream smoothie the two of you share as you reminisce on how far you've come and just how far you'll go together

NISHIMURA RIKI

gif creds: @heeseunq

riki is pink

falling in love with him is stumbling into big emotions with naïve minds but not minding a thing because who would you rather learn with than him?

he is the lotus of the notebook that you slide across the table to him, asking him to help you study for a test

his love is the bubblegum blanket that he covers you with when you fall asleep in the middle of studying, confusing himself when he realizes just how much he wants to stay here with you

he is the rouge that stains his cheeks late at night when he searches up how he feels when he's around you (the results say he has a crush on you)

he is the watermelon of your chapstick when you kiss him for the first time, blinking hurriedly. eyes still closed, almost instinctively, his lips chase yours.

he is the hot pink of the sweater you buy for him, not having the heart to tell you it's horrendous when you're looking at him with those puppy eyes

his love is the peach shaped sticky note that he presses into your hand with a messy scrawl on just how proud of you he is when you ace your test

#jnnul #enhypen fluff #enhypen fic #enhypen #jungwon headcanons #jungwon fluff #heeseung headcanons #heeseung fluff #jay park fluff #jay headcanons #jake headcanons #jake fluff #sunghoon fluff #sunghoon headcanons #sunoo headcanons #sunoo fluff #riki fluff #riki headcanons

[slytherhys]

Secrets and Promises

An Elriel Starfall One Shot

Warning: NSFW | word count: 2,5k

The entire city of Velaris seemed to stand still in time.

The night breeze was warm against Elain’s skin, wrapping around her like a soft caress as she looked beyond the balcony, the familiar scent of jasmine and lemon a comforting reminder of her new home. The city was engulfed in darkness, the only sign of life the happy chatter and soft music that was heard throughout the streets of the city. Velaris had always seemed more alive come dusk, but during Starfall it was like the entire city breathed night – her friends included.

Elain watched as her family and friends chatted happily around the dinner room, the only light the two small candles on top of the table, whose flames danced softly with the night breeze.

Rhys and Feyre were sitting at the table, Feyre on Rhys’ lap as he stroked her hair and spoke to Mor and Emerie. Feyre looked two seconds away from falling asleep, but Elain couldn’t blame her. Nyx was a happy child – one that had no trouble tiring his parents throughout the day. Elain was sure they would stay for the migration of the spirits before retreating to their own room, where Nyx already rested peacefully. Nesta and Cassian were just a bit further away from the table, locked in a tight embrace as they swayed to the song that played softly. Her sister looked gorgeous in a red gown, one that Cassian enjoyed a lot, if his lingering touches were any indication.

No one seemed to pay her any mind. Elain couldn’t say she was bothered by it – not when she was just about to leave the party.

She was thankful for her satin slippers as she made her way out of the room, her lavender dress flowing around her body like a soft caress. She had chosen it specifically for the night: a periwinkle silk gown with a plunging neckline, a low-cut back and a belt that marked her silhouette before flowing into a pleated, empire skirt. The entire down was dotted with tiny crystals – like dawn personified. The first rays of morning light where the stars still flickered in the sky; or the night sky before it turned into something else. Darkness and light, meeting halfway. It had felt appropriate.

“Elain,” a familiar voice called out, stopping her dead in her tracks. Elain felt her heart drop inside her chest as she took a deep breath, willing her body to relax. She turned around, meeting Amren’s mischievous gaze. Even now that her eyes were nothing but human, Elain couldn’t help but notice they seemed to see too much. Know too much.

“Happy Starfall.” Elain managed, concealing her shaky hands behind her back. Amren smirked, as if knowing exactly what she was hiding.

“Leaving so soon?” Amren’s eyes glanced down the corridor Elain was about to walk, her smirk growing bigger as her eyes met Elain’s once again. Elain felt her cheeks heat and despite the dark corridor, it was almost as if she noticed that too.

“I fear I have a headache,” Elain smiled softly. “I was just heading to my room to see if I have any powder left.”

Amren raised an eyebrow, taking a sip of her glass of…God, Elain hoped that was red wine. “Interesting.” She simply said, turning in the dining room’s direction.

Interesting? There was nothing interesting about it at all. At least there was nothing interesting for Amren to know.

“Pardon me?” Elain chuckled nervously.

“Azriel,” Amren said simply, turning her head back to Elain. “He had a headache too. Left 30 minutes ago.” A smirk bloomed in her lips. “To look for some powder, as well.”

Elain felt the colour drain out of her face, her hands clammy and shaking. Her dress suddenly felt like lead against her body, her necklace just inches shy of choking her. That idiot.

“Worry not, girl. I am not one to reveal secrets.” Amren said simply, her face more serious that it had been all night. “But I advise you two to be smart about this.”

“What do you mean?” She hated herself for asking, hated herself for the curiosity she could hear in her own voice.

“What this entails…” Amren’s grey gaze burned into hers. “You’re not as oblivious as you try to seem.”

Elain stood straighter, her heart racing inside her chest. “I’m not going to leave him.”

“Not am I telling you to do it.” She raised a perfectly groomed brow. “But for the sake of us all, make sure it’s worth it.” 

And then she turned swiftly, leaving Elain behind as darkness cloaked her once again. Elain felt restless, unsure on how to proceed. 

She knew she eventually would have to talk to Rhys and Feyre and come clean, and despite knowing she would get Feyre’s full support, there was still something holding her back. Amren was right, too much was at stake. With Lucien, and Beron… Everything felt unstable, fragile. She didn’t want to taint what she had with Az - not when the whole world seemed set on breaking them apart.

So, Elain would keep him close, for as long as she could, if only to protect him. If only so she could have him one more night without worrying. She could worry come morning.

Every step further into the halls of the House of Wind threw her further into darkness, but she was used to it by then, unable to avoid the flutter in her stomach as she came closer to her destiny. Elain felt her heart settle as soon as she was met with a familiar scent – night-chilled mist and cedar. She couldn’t see him, but she was sure he could see her. Like he always had. 

Elain followed the trail, smiling to herself as she spotted a single white rose on the floor by the half-closed door that led to an unfamiliar room. It was a big, yet plain, room, with only one king-sized bed with light sheets and a matching ottoman at its feet. The glass doors leading to the balcony were wide open, the light, mesh curtains moving slightly with the breeze. The sound of the celebration was more muted here considering they weren’t facing the city centre anymore. 

Azriel was nowhere to be seen, but she knew he was there; could feel him standing close, his presence as comforting as it was exhilarating. 

She circled the bed, making her way outside. The migration was bound to start any minute now and it wasn’t something she wanted to miss. Not even Azriel could tempt her to do that. 

She was just about to lean over the rail when she felt him standing behind her; his scarred hand trailing up her arm, leaving goosebumps in its trail.

“What took you so long?” He muttered; his lips pressed against her neck. Elain tilted her head, allowing him to press wet kisses from her shoulder up to the soft spot behind her neck that always made her shiver. She could almost feel him smirk against her skin.

“It’s been 10 minutes.” Elain chuckled, but it came out breathless as Azriel nibbled her ear, his hand pushing her hair away. 

“Felt like more.” He hummed, softly turning her around before cradling her cheek and kissing her tenderly. His lips were soft, teasing against hers as his other arm held her against his body. He was trying to be gentle, holding himself back, and that was the last thing Elain wanted, needed, in that moment. Her hands found his dark hair and pulled, just as she bit his bottom lip. Azriel groaned before pulling away, his eyes hooded as he watched her mouth draw back into a smirk. “Wicked little thing.” He purred, before he finally kissed her senseless, his tongue a steady force against her own. 

It was always like this between them – pure, unrestricted loving. They were forced to spend their time hidden in the shadows, meeting in the dark, but when they came together it was as if there was no force stronger than them. Elain revelled in it, even if she longed to be with him without the secrecy of the night.

“Az,” she whined, trying to pull away and laughing when he wouldn’t let her. “Azriel.” She chuckled, pulling back just an inch. He was panting, his lips swollen and red, a greedy glint in his eyes.

“You look beautiful.” He murmured, his cheeks darkening slightly as he dropped his head to kiss her again. Elain giggled, turning her head away. 

“I want to watch the stars.” 

Azriel smirked and raised an eyebrow, the look on his face pure sin as he turned her body around. Elain barely had the time to hold herself against the rail of the balcony before feeling his hands make their way down her legs. “Azriel-”

He shushed her quietly, his hands softly pulling her dress up her legs. The feeling of the fabric and his hands against her exposed skin made her shiver, her own arms faltering as she closed her eyes. 

“What are you doing?” She asked, breathless as she felt him press a kiss against the nape of her neck.

“My lady wants to see the stars,” he started, his fingers trailing the outline of her underwear. Elain felt her breathing falter, the anticipation of what was to come nearly enough to send her over the edge. “so I’ll help her.” And then he was pulling down her panties, exposing her need to his eyes only. “Now be a good girl for me and bend over.”

Elain happily obeyed, her entire body feeling entirely too tight as he pressed his hips against hers, just enough for Elain to feel the naked hardness of him press against her, teasing her with what was to come. She moaned, for more reasons than one, melting into him as he whispered her name. Elain’s hand blindly reached for his, Azriel swiftly interlacing their fingers just as he started easing in, meeting with little resistance. A stuttered gasp coming out of Elain’s lips as he pulled back and thrust back in, pushing deeper each time. Az cursed under his breath, his hands holding her hips steady as he filled her deliciously. 

“Are you watching, Elain?” He hummed as his hand cradled her jaw gently, making her look up. She hadn’t even realised she had closed her eyes, snapping them open just in time to see one single star cross the sky, its light bright enough to illuminate the night around them. She gasped as Az thrust inside her again just as a shower of light crossed the skies of Velaris. He pressed an open-mouthed kiss against her shoulder, the soft words whispered against her skin branding her like oaths. Mine. Beautiful. Perfect. 

It had never felt like this -  they had never felt like this before. He liked to push her to her limit, teasing her until she was blinded with pleasure. He wasn’t afraid of showing her what he liked, and she wasn’t afraid of testing her own boundaries. 

Yet nothing had ever felt as right as they did in that moment. A secret and a promise, made under the stars.

He felt impossibly deep inside of her, the drag of him slow and torturous enough that when his long fingers found her centre, swiping her wetness at a delirious pace, she knew she wouldn’t last much longer. Az cursed under his breath as he leaned into her, nibbling at her ear, the noises coming out of his mouth louder with each thrust. It was so easy to lose themselves to the pleasure until they could think of nothing else.

“So good,” he groaned against her neck where he was marking her with his mouth. “So right for me.”

“Azriel.” She whimpered, too overwhelmed to say anything else.

“I know, love.” He soothed, thrusting harder as he pressed his fingers against her centre. Elain felt heat coil inside her stomach, her breath catching in her lungs. Her entire world seemed to begin and end with him. “Let go, baby.” He bit her lip, his rhythm getting sloppier. “I got you. You can trust me.” He murmured. Elain felt her release course through her body, harder than ever before. She moaned out his name as her world shattered around them, her head tipping back as he kept kissing her neck, thrusting once more before he finally spilled inside of her.

The world around them seemed to stand still as they caught their breaths. Music could still be heard throughout Velaris as people celebrated, even if the stars had long faded into memories. She could only feel her heart race inside her chest; his heart beating in answer.

Azriel pressed a kiss to her cheek before stepping away, tucking himself in before retreating to the room. He returned only a few seconds later, an old rag in his hand and a sheepish smile on his face. She watched him fall to his knees and clean between her legs with as much care as possible. His lip turned up at her surprised gasp, before he pressed a kiss to her thigh, threw the rag away and got up again, pulling her to his arms. 

Elain couldn’t help but smile up at him as she felt him sway them to the beat of a distant song, emotion swelling up in her chest as he pressed a kiss against her forehead. 

How could anyone question this? How, when nothing had ever fitted her as right as Azriel did. How, when he held her like this, like he couldn’t possibly bear to be one second more apart from her. His love for her glowing in his eyes just as her love for him glowed inside her chest, a silent reminder that she was fighting for the right thing.

“Az?” She called, her head resting against his chest.

“Yes, love?”

“Do you trust me?” She glanced at him, smiling softly at the frown on his beautiful face.

“With my body and soul.” He answered without missing a beat. 

Elain felt herself smile, heat rising to her cheeks. Azriel chuckled, kissing her blushing skin as he kept their gentle sway. She could hear people laugh, talk, and sing all over the city. The familiar voices of their friends sent a pang through her as she remembered all the reasons they couldn’t celebrate with them. Not yet, at least.  

She wouldn’t tell Azriel what had happened earlier. She knew that if he found out about Amren, he would run himself to the ground trying to find a solution, a plan for them to keep going as they were. But Elain didn’t want that. She wanted lazy afternoons in the garden, wanted to sleep in his bed without having to worry someone would catch them, wanted to see her family grow with him by her side. She wanted him, unrestrictedly. 

Elain wouldn’t let anyone choose for her. Not on this, not anymore. She had created something special for herself in Velaris; had found comfort in her friends and family. They were finally happy, thankfully. And now it was her time.

Elain pressed a kiss to Azriel’s chest as they slow-danced under the dark night sky. 

It was her time to choose – and it was Azriel’s time to be chosen. And a day wouldn’t go by where she wouldn’t choose him, over and over again.

#elriel #elain x azriel #elriel fic #elriel oneshot #pro elriel #pro elain #acotar fanfiction #elriel fanfiction #secrets and promises #elriel starfall

[savage-rhi]

Mending Shadows // Chapter 25

Summary:

Y/N was a simple Scavenger of Lucis, until meeting a deadly blow at the hands of an infected creature. At the crossroads of death, they are found by Niflheim’s cryptic Chancellor with his own agenda. Now bonded to Ardyn Izunia, and tossed into the world of Niflheim, Y/N struggles to cope with their new life as an Imperial Icon all the while battling their feelings toward their fate and that of Ardyn’s.

Click here to read on AO3

A careful wind scattered over the deck where Y/N had been sitting under a canopy. The steam coming off their breakfast faded into the air, carrying the scent of fresh jam and tea into the sky. The blast of aroma further woke Y/N up. They could scarce believe it was past dawn. 

While Y/N admired the rays of the sun creeping up from behind vast city buildings and waterfalls in the distance, their mind quietly remembered people of the past. Clients who would've traded blood just for the chance to marvel at Altissa's beauty. The thought further compounded guilt that leeched into Y/N's heart. They should've been present, and basking in what the hexatheon staked their lives to protect a millennia ago, but alas, Y/N was faraway. 

As the red pink clouds began to scatter, Y/N stared at the meal Tuti had prepared for them. It had been a struggle to consume anything this past week. Their stomach growled, but they couldn't beckon themself to take a bite. Even the lemon tea which greeted them with a warmth they wanted to envelop felt too intimate of a task. It would've felt like they were pressing their lips against Ardyn again. 

“Y/N,” 

“Hm?”

Tuti arrived on the deck, giving a tired bow with her head before she smiled and joined Y/N at the table. 

“I wanted to inform you that Loqui is waiting outside. The Serpent Society should be arriving soon. Seeing the Altar of the Tidemother will be most splendid!" 

Y/N didn’t say a word, not having the strength and merely nodded in turn. They could tell their response wasn't satisfactory, for Tuti sighed through her nose while studying them. 

“You recovered so much since the attack on the House of the Courts, and yet you still look exhausted.” 

“I’ve a lot on my mind.” Y/N admitted. They reached for the cup of tea, and their fingers trembled against the glass. “I’ve lost count of how many people I’ve had to meet, and the speeches I’ve had to give. I’m feeling quite burnt out having to be social almost daily.” 

Tuti let out a breath, taking a sip of her own beverage she had made earlier. “This is really about the Chancellor leaving for Avem, isn’t it?” 

Y/N’s fingers tensed around the handle of the tea cup, feeling their blood pool away due to grip. 

“It’s that obvious, isn’t it?”

“I’m afraid so,” Tuti sincerely answered, offering a shrug out of consolation. “I know you must be worried for his safety after that horror display in heart of the city. I’m sure he’s just fine, taking care of whatever political duties he has.” 

As much as Y/N appreciated Tuti’s compassion, they felt slightly irate with her reassurance. They reminded themself that Tuti had no context of the incident at the springs. It was getting old, keeping everything bottled up. Much like the endless parading of their status as an Imperial Icon. Y/N glanced at amber orange tea in front of them, as if staring into the eyes of someone familiar. 

“Has there been any word from him this morning?” 

“Sadly not. He's been radio silent this whole week. Whatever is going on, it must be strictly confidential. In my experience when politicians don't so much as text a reminder to clean their clothes, that means something serious is happening." Tuti breathed. She smiled and attempted to lighten the mood by further adding. "Maybe he's going to surprise you with a gift when he returns!" 

Y/N huffed. “I highly doubt that.” 

“Why is that?” Tuti arched a brow, canting her head like a curious child. "Did you two have a fight before he departed?" 

“You can say that.” Y/N swallowed. The steam from the tea invaded their nose, giving another nudge of temptation. 

“He didn’t hurt you like before, did he?” 

“No,” Y/N shook their head, and took their eyes off the cup. Their gaze fell upon Tuti. "Ever since that day, he hasn't struck me or done anything like that." 

Tuti let out a sigh of relief. “Okay. Well, if that’s the case, then what happened?” 

“I don’t know if…”

“Y/N,” 

“Yeah?" 

Tuti bit the inside of her lip. Her hand reached across the table for Y/N's, and her fingers slipped over theirs. Y/N let go of the cup, and surrendered to the touch. A gentle squeeze that was filled with care came and went while Tuti wore an expression of concern. 

“I’d like to think I’m not only here because I’m your servant,” Tuti frowned. “I’d like to think we’re also friends, and I want to be a good one to you. After what we’ve experienced together, I want you to know you can trust me. Sure, I’m an Imperial Help and we’re notorious for being obnoxious gossipers, but I mean this with my heart when I say your confidence is guaranteed with me. I’ve never told anyone or even the gods of what you and I have spoke of.” 

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle, feeling a slight warmth entrench around their heart from Tuti’s compassion. “Where’s all this coming from? That almost sounds like something a person who'd tattle would say.” 

“I’m merely emphasizing my loyalty!” Tuti giggled. “Look, I know the Chancellor probably limits what you can and cannot say; because of the research he and Chief Besithia have been working on with the scourge, but I'm here to be a shoulder for you. I don't want you drowning in the dark on your lonesome, that's all." 

If they weren’t so tired, Y/N could’ve easily seen themself tearing up from her proclamation.

Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to lighten the load...

“Do you need a napkin?” Tuti asked. She sadly looked on as Y/N used the back of their hand to wipe their eyes. 

“No,” Y/N shook their head. Letting out a breath, their weary gaze traveled to the amber liquid in their glass. "I think I might've crossed a line with him." 

Tuti's eyes widened. Catching herself, she dialed back with a quiet tone. “What happened?” 

“The Chancellor and I met up at the springs. I was affectionate toward him. He didn’t take kindly to it. He got spooked like a horse that had seen a ghost. He didn’t say anything to me for the rest of the day, and then come the next day I find out he’s gone to the place where him and I were supposed to venture. I should be in Avem helping him out, but it’s like I don’t exist anymore.”

Y/N didn't feel comfortable giving the full story of how intimate things got at the springs. This was enough though. Enough to where Y/N could relinquish some secrecy, all the while remain dedicated to keeping themself and Ardyn safe. 

“I’m no expert on Chancellor Izunia’s sympathies toward others. You’d have more of an idea than I. However, I think I may be able to impart some peace of mind?”

“Such as?” 

Tuti smiled, letting go of Y/N's hand. “There are many of us Imperial Help who have bore witness to people in power having vulnerable moments, and seeing them act out of character when not in public. This includes more intimate detail." 

“Are you saying you have dirt on the Chancellor?” 

Tuti snorted, and shook her head. “Not me per se. I’ve only worked so close to him when you showed up. Gretchen--you remember her--she worked for years near his chambers, so if anybody is being truthful regarding Chancellor Izunia's mannerisms, it’s her.” 

"So," Y/N braced themself. "What does Gretchen have on the Chancellor?"

“Well," Tuti muddled over her thoughts before continuing. "People over the years have attempted to get close to him. The few that broke through his usual barrier, didn’t fare well. Even the rare times where he had been drunk enough to seek the indulgences of a companion, it wouldn’t get far. Gretchen has said at most he had a lovely lady enter his chambers, and not even a second later she left in tears. Gretchen said he verbally tore her limb from limb." 

“What does this have to do with the peace of mind you were referring to?” 

“I’m getting to that,” Tuti said. “From what we gals and pals among the Imperial Help know about the Chancellor, he’s terrible at receiving affection. It’s strange isn’t it? How someone with a reputation for being a scandalous flirt in court could struggle with intimacy. I wouldn’t take what happened at the springs too seriously, hon. Not when he has a skeleton or two in the closet regarding people being kind to him.” 

To Y/N, it wasn’t so strange. If Tuti had any kind of knowledge about Aera, and the suffering Ardyn had endured at her loss, it would make sense. He may be a professional actor and downright manipulative, but behind the stage he was human. A traumatized one at that. Deep down when Y/N looked at the facts, they felt guilt about their own anger toward what he had done leaving them behind. At the springs, and at the capitol. 

“I wonder if he’s lost someone close to him. That would explain a lot in my opinion. That or he’s not a great performer despite being a wordsmith if you catch my drift.” Tuti snorted. Her latter statement snapped Y/N out of their thought quicker than lightning. 

“I’m afraid I couldn’t tell you,” Y/N laughed, trying to ignore their own blush. 

“Anyhow,” Tuti mused. “While this probably won’t solve your problem, I hope it’s given some perspective. And if it’s any consolation, I think you’re the only friend he truly has.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“Because he’s never gone out of his way for anybody else. Not like what he’s done for you. That’s special. Don’t you think?” Tuti tilted her head. Her eyes held a reassurance that looked hopeful, like the glimmer of light that could be seen in a child's eye. "He doesn't hate you, Y/N. I truly believe that." 

Y/N glanced downward at their lemon tea. The warmth of it’s aroma once more encouraged them to take a sip. With a nervous hand, they picked up their cup and brought the lid of it to their mouth. Tuti’s words infiltrated Y/N’s conscious while they consumed the tea and it’s fragrant flavor.

It was alright to indulge in the thought that things would be okay.

Later that day, the ocean waves rocked gently against the Altar of the Tidemother. The soothing churn of the surf along with the coastal breeze had one word come to mind for Y/N: serenity.

In all their years, Y/N never understood the full power monuments had until their feet had planted at the top of the ancient structure. As their eyes scanned the horizon, Altissa felt so small in comparison to the marvel that was Eos’s waterways. 

In the distance, they could hear members of the Serpent Society indulge themself in conversation. Every once and again, Y/N picked up on remarks. Most were in the throes of pre-celebratory bliss for the betrothal ceremony. Come nightfall, the first of many processions would begin, and Y/N found out the Serpents were a hallmark of it. 

Y/N’s own happiness toward the Serpents merriment went downhill when comments were tossed like trash toward the Altar. Everything from how grotesque it was, to suggestions on rebuilding it from the ground up were said. Betrys and one other gentleman bitterly unleashed their counter arguments toward colleagues, but the damage had been done as far as Y/N was concerned. 

As a Scavenger who hunted for rare finds in Lucis, and as someone who found the beauty of this place unparalleled, it felt insulting. The memory of themself and Ardyn in the Vixen discussing ancient architecture during the night of their debut further aggravated them. He loved places like this, for it gave Ardyn a snapshot of his former life. Y/N felt insulted on his behalf. 

Of course there’s always a catch…Y/N thought quietly. The Serpents were no better than the Higher Imperials who thought themself above everyone. Instead of basking in their social status, these folks thought the modern world was a godsend compared to what came before.

Y/N furrowed their brows. Once upon a time, they had somewhat of a similar mindset. After getting out into the real world, and away from Insomnia, things from the past seemed like better alternatives to what the contemporary world provided. Ardyn's own experiences further solidified the mentality. 

Despite the Serpents being more than accommodating during the week--even lavishing Y/N and their party with gifts after the House of the Courts attack--Y/N didn’t feel comfortable speaking when the group began their descent from the altar podium. They purposefully walked slower, wishing to be in the background. Gods forbid they walk in the middle of the herd, for it was a guarantee they'd never escape an onslaught of chatter. 

“You couldn’t stand the yakking either?”

Y/N turned their head, smiling at Loqui as he joined their side. “If Niflheim were to truly invade Accordo, I could see the tongues of this lot going first.” 

Loqui laughed. “That’s rather grotesque, even for you! They must’ve really gotten under your skin.”

“I don’t like people with superiority complexes.” 

“Yet you live with one.” Loqui countered with a quip. He smirked at Y/N while they shot him a glare. 

“I could argue the case that my personal guard is right up there with my roommate.” 

Loqui grimaced as he scratched the side of his neck sheepishly. “I reckon I drove myself into that pit!” 

“I’d say that’s a fair assumption.” 

The pair laughed for a short while. After catching their breath, Loqui let out a deep sigh. During the tour of the Tidemother, Y/N noted how on edge he was. Glancing ahead, they made sure none of the Serpents would interrupt their conversation before deciding to pry. 

“You seem more tense than usual.” 

Loqui made a face and chortled. “Nothing is ever lost on your observations is there?” 

“Hate to say you’re right, but you’re right.” Y/N smiled briefly. 

“Yeah,” Loqui breathed. “I have a few things eating away at my head. I guess I should update you about my father.” 

Y/N swallowed. “Is Commander Pierce alright?” 

“Yeah, for the most part.” The sadness in Loqui’s eyes grew before he began to regale. “He was injured on the battlefield. His right foot might not make it. Other than that, he’s healthy as a horse.” 

"I'm so sorry--"

"No, don't be. When you sign up for war, you know what you're getting into. It's part of the job." 

Y/N let out a sigh. “Regardless, it's awful he has to go through that, but it’s good he’s alive.” 

Loqui nodded. He looked like he wanted to say a million things, but he held his tongue. Sensing this was a sore subject for now, Y/N decided to switch gears. 

“Did anything turn up from the investigation at the House of the Courts?” 

Loqui nodded. “Nothing that the army wasn’t prepared for. A few of the folk among the protestors belonged to this MedZin group the Chancellor had my father keeping tabs on. They've been dealt with, and executed.” 

As Loqui trailed off, Y/N felt their skin grow cold. The faces of the people they had killed, and the horrors they had bore witness too before Ardyn picked them up flipped through their head like a book. One whose pages would never stop turning. 

“How long have you known about MedZin?” 

The concern in Loqui’s eyes grew as he looked upon Y/N. “Ever since your debut. My father informed me that when he returned to Lucis, the duties the Chancellor had him on would be passed to my battalion. Why do you think I was on the coast for so long back at Niflheim? I was putting down those bastards among others. I’m assuming the Chancellor told you about MedZin, how they are attempting to gather information about the cure Chief Besithia is working on for the scourge." 

“Yeah,” Y/N swallowed. It was the only appropriate answer they could conjure up. “So, you don’t know why they’re here?” 

“Before they were killed, they proclaimed they were attempting to get back home to Lucis, but got caught up in the political chaos. Rest assured, you have nothing to fear. Security has been amplified just in case, but I don't foresee future problems. It was a coincidence. An unlucky one on their part. 

“Thank you.” Y/N murmured. 

“Y/N,” 

Loqui ceased his steps. His right arm reached out and he gently stopped Y/N from walking further. His hand gently gripped theirs. Worry and affection crossed over his face like delicate tapestry as he acknowledged the fear Y/N was attempting to hide. 

“I can’t help but feel there’s something personal here, with MedZin.” He whispered. "Would you indulge me?" 

Y/N felt put under a heat lamp with nowhere to run, but to remain under the bulb and cook until bones ejected from flesh. With their trauma resurfacing, and the persistence of his voice, Y/N was scared. Scared to say anything. 

“Before Chancellor Izunia found me on the beach, I ran into MedZin while trying to escape Lucis," The words came out before Y/N could even give them much thought, let alone calibrate if this was the wisest of responses to give to a man like Loqui. "They aided the soldiers that were trying to capture me. Both teams collaborated on a tall tale that I was sick. It wasn't true. It was just a lie so they could take me into custody after the abuse happened." 

Loqui seemed satisfied with the answer, for all the air of suspicion went away. Y/N watched his expression soften, as he smiled with all the sincerity one could have for another that was cherished.

“You have my word they won’t touch you.” 

Y/N nodded, returning the smile in full. While his kindness couldn’t pacify the horrid feelings that lurked beneath the surface, it was enough to know Y/N had another person besides Ardyn keeping them under a watchful eye. 

Speaking of…Y/N reminded themself to talk to Ardyn about this situation. They wondered if Ardyn knew about the MedZin spies or if he was in the dark.

Loqui cleared his throat. “Y/N, there’s something else I want to talk with you about.” 

“Yeah?” 

“About the other day, the leaning thing. I know what I said and did was out of line. I’ve been meaning to apologize for my actions.” 

“It’s alright, you were playing around.” Y/N comforted, trying to wave him off all the while continue to ground themself. 

“But I wasn’t,” Loqui admitted. His fingers squeezed against Y/N’s. “To tell you the truth, you’ve grown on me. My father warned me to keep to myself, considering where you stand in proximity to the Chancellor, but I think the world of you. Your story, and all the good I’ve seen you pull off with your status as an Imperial Icon has touched my heart.” 

Y/N had never experienced a heart attack before, but this feeling in their chest, felt like a widow maker. 

“I know I have a place at your side as a personal guard, but if given the opportunity, I’d like to be more than that. You don't have to answer right away. I know this is unexpected, and--” 

“Y/N, dear!” 

Both Loqui and Y/N turned their heads and faced forward. A brief sadness traveled over Y/N’s face when Loqui let go of their hand. 

Betrys was waving a few feet away, climbing up the steps of the altar to meet them. Her signature dimpled smile seemed to be exhilarating more warmth than usual. It complimented the cool gaze her eyes held.

“A pardon to you both, but our dear Chancellor has returned from Avem. He wants a word with you back at your lodging." 

“He’s back?” Y/N blinked in shock. “I didn’t receive any messages through my cell.” 

“Allegedly he’s tried to contact you and you hadn’t answered. So here I am, playing parakeet. Anyway, it sounded urgent dear. And Lieutenant Tummelt, you’ve been summoned to escort us Serpents to the House of the Courts to prepare for the wedding, and tinker with security detail. Per the Chancellor's orders." 

Y/N glanced at Loqui, offering an apologetic gaze. It seemed that rotten luck was on his side when it came to personal affairs. 

"I'm sorry--"

"Don't be," Loqui shook his head. He smiled and gestured up ahead with his chin. "Go take care of what needs to be done. We can speak later." 

“Thank you.” Y/N offered a head bow to both Betrys and Loqui, and made haste down the steps.

An hour later, Y/N's heart never stopped racing since they left the Tidemother's Altar. Anxiety filled each and every step they took when traversing the stairs at the hotel, attempting to get to their room where Ardyn awaited. Beads of sweat trickled down Y/N's forehead. The humidity from the day, and their own worries about what might happen had their body feeling feverish. The scourge bubbled in their veins, letting Y/N know it was painfully aware that another of it's presence was close. Pain ebbed and flowed as Y/N reached their floor, and made a beeline to their quarters. 

What ifs began to invade their mind, and as Y/N opened the door with their key, they realized they had no strategy on how to approach Ardyn after the spring incident. Mentally cursing themself, their eyes locked on Ardyn who immediately looked up from the couch. 

"You look like you're feeling better--"

"Don't say a word." 

He was so quick, like a shadow running away from a sudden flick of a light switch, that Y/N didn't register the next few seconds. How Ardyn was at their side. How he slammed the door with a loud thud, and took care to lock it. How his body caged theirs to the wall. How his hands were on either side of Y/N's face, and how his fingertips caressed them fervently.

His eyes were a mix of awe and fear, and Y/N felt their pulse stammer at how unpredictable he was. How feral he looked. 

Ardyn pressed his forehead to Y/N’s, his eyes shut and his breath became ragged. Scourge veins began to rise under his flesh to the surface, and a whimper dwelled past his lips. Y/N was in shock, watching Ardyn’s body tremble. He inhaled deeply as his head began to tilt from side to side. He was nuzzling them. Nuzzling like a creature who had been void of contact all its life and was experiencing sensation for the first time. The animalistic nature of his conduct was primal, bordering between human and something else. 

While he remained in his affections, Y/N could feel the scourge in their own body respond to his touch. A powerful wave of yearning flooded their senses. It was as if Y/N’s brain was suddenly being drowned by an intense need to be close to someone familiar. The last time Y/N had touched Ardyn, the experience was profound but nothing quite like this. No, this was a step further. It was like being confronted at gunpoint: sweaty palms, a rapid heartbeat, and pupils blowing up to focus intently on the threat. However, despite the conflict that arose in Y/N’s subconscious, they felt anything but endangered.

Y/N closed their eyes, and through the dull hum of the scourge and its hivemind, they could not only hear and feel their own heartbeat but that of another. It was as if Y/N traded places in body with Ardyn, feeling his blood pulse through his veins and the scourge contract in his bones and nerves. What he felt was painful, but dulled by various emotions that were wreaking havoc. That’s the best Y/N could describe the experience to themself. 

“I wanted to do this all week,” Ardyn admitted weakly while continuing his ministration. “I need your skin on mine.” 

“Ardyn--”

“Bed.” 

Y/N’s eyes widened, and before the protest could be made, Ardyn shadow stepped with them in tow. In a split second, the world shifted, and Y/N found themself lying on the mattress with Ardyn hovering above their body. Deep black and gold orbs stared Y/N down when Ardyn finally forced himself to open his eyes. His breath was shallow, and his body quivered as if anticipating either a strike or a reciprocation. To Y/N it appeared as if he was fighting himself.

Despite the compromising position they found themself in with Ardyn, Y/N gave into the scourge’s pining and their hands reached up for Ardyn’s face. Their fingers stroked against his flesh greedily before burying into the long mess of his burgundy strands of hair. The noise that left him was a cross between a groan and a daemonic growl. He sounded hurt but quickly demonstrated that not to be the case when he lowered his body on top of Y/N’s and started rubbing his forehead against theirs once again. His hands stroked over Y/N’s face, carding through their scalp and descending toward their neck; touching whatever bit of flesh was exposed.

Y/N felt their body begin to run on autopilot, and they were a passenger happily basking in whatever strange ritual this was. Impulsively, Y/N leaned forward. Ardyn instinctively retreated back some, and gasped when Y/N tugged at his clothes. Soon his coat, vest, and white ruffled shirt were discarded, leaving him in his pants. He too tugged off some articles of Y/N's clothing, but showed the same courtesy toward them by not touching below the waist. Once enough flesh had been exposed to their liking, Y/N and Ardyn stared at one another rapidly. Observing every micro expression either gave. 

When Y/N witnessed the rise and fall of the intricate purple veins of the scourge tracing over Ardyn's chest, they lunged forward and embraced him in a crash. It was as if they were holding onto the sun and moon at the same time. He was both hot and cold. The best of both worlds and Y/N’s scourge blitzed through nerves and blood. If there was any word to describe this feeling, it would be home. Hugging Ardyn like this skin-to-skin was like being bathed in the glow of a fire, all-consuming to where burning alive felt more like a treat than a threat. 

Ardyn moaned out in a pained satisfaction when Y/N’s arms ensnared his body. He wasted no effort in mimicking the gesture upon them. A powerful thrum echoed throughout his psyche and heart. The scourge beat soundly in his soul. Holding Y/N like this, nuzzling them like a dog would to its master, felt right in every sense of the term. Ardyn felt he had been reunited with something lost to him, and he had to ensure his presence would never fade off of what was his. He took control suddenly and rolled with Y/N through the bed, and from there, the mutual touch became more invigorating. 

Though logic seemed to be dead at the height of this precipice, Ardyn was no fool to the fact the scourge imprint was influencing his actions. The plague in his body pined to be with a piece of itself that had been donated to another, and he knew it was preying on his weakness for human contact. However, he was too drunk on how good it felt to stop what was happening. He might as well have been under a spell.

For what felt like an eternity, Ardyn and Y/N were grasping, caressing, pulling, and petting each other. Each touch a liquid fire, burning them both up. Y/N and Ardyn came dangerously close to kissing, but neither of their bodies succumbed. Instead, they shared the same breath with their mouths open, sighing deeply against the other's face while noses collided. The ritual was entirely about remembrance. Remembering every scent, sight and sound each other made. 

This wasn’t sex. Y/N knew that much in the haze, but there was a layer of intimacy that felt on par with such an act. Y/N had a feeling too that Ardyn felt the same way, and that he was just as scared deep down as they were, but too blissed to care enough to stop. The way he smelled, and the vulnerability and power in his breaths intoxicated Y/N's mind while the scourge went into a frenzy. Y/N could feel their legs intertwine with Ardyn's. and their fingertips rushed to feel, pull, and scratch into his skin; holding onto him for dear life while being set aflame. 

At some point, Y/N ran their nose down Ardyn’s cheek, tickling against his stubble while he rubbed his face against theirs. He growled, and rolled over a final time with Y/N latched into his embrace. While cuddling Y/N from behind, he sighed against their ear from time to time, and his bottom lip trailed over the pathways Y/N's scourge created on their soft skin. Eventually, he settled on a spot on their neck and bit down. Not hard enough to drawn blood, but enough that Y/N yelped out a moan. Ardyn remained for several seconds, applying pressure before he let go. His nose nudged at the sore he left behind, and his head fell against theirs. With a sigh, he fell away from Y/N. Now lying on his back and staring at the ceiling in shock. 

Y/N's body buzzed. Through the haze of the fog in their head, logic and reason began to return. Their eyes widened as both they and Ardyn came crashing down from whatever possessed them to go feral.

What the hell just happened...?

Y/N wasn't sure if they wanted to know the answer to that.

#mending shadows #ardyn izunia #ardyn lucis caelum #ffxv ardyn #fanfic #fanfiction #ffxv fanfic #final fantasy xv ardyn #final fantasy xv fanfic #ao3 fanfic #reader x canon #canon x reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral y/n

[tryingtimi]

Old Times

Inspired by Disappearance of the Girl by PHILDEL while failing my poll dears. It’s at least still a Darmon piece, even if not the promised one. I’m on it tho. Also, first try of figuring out their dynamic, so no context.

BOOK I EXPLORATION | CHARACTER EXPLORATION | DYNAMIC EXPLORATION | WC: 1,640

The Crystal Palace always showed its true magnificence at dawn.

Thick, sparkling blanket of snow covered the infertile soil outside as if its freezing white wouldn’t have hidden rough blackness underneath. Flakes rarely fell so deep in the belly of the circling mountain range, and yet the snow never seemed to dwindle.

Darmon turned from the groove they used as a window. The dining room showered in the red-orange light that seeped into the space, the palace’s crystal walls reflecting and multiplying its brilliance. They couldn’t see the auroras this far from Atarq, still, their colors reached them at every dawn.

“Its power to chain you to the window could not die away with the years. I dare say it never will,” Zheva called from the end of the refectory table.

The Nordic shines of the sun bathed her sitting figure in its slowly disappearing light. Since the day she put her armor down, she preferred to wear shadow-colored long tunics made of warm and strong textile, embroidery decorating its full length in rich shades of red and gold. Such as it did today as well. Her midnight tunic had sewed-in golden leaves scattering around in a somehow organized way, broad red hems on the sleeves and neckline adding to the harmony of colors, while a same shaded wide belt tightly wrapped around her waist.

Darmon nodded, then hesitated for a second.

His mind has been plagued with that old prisoner’s words. Words of suspicion and secrets. He found himself growing somehow careful around her. A disturbingly foolish act on his part.

Darmon joined the servants bringing in their many servings feast as they walked to the table. One of them leaned over to pull out his seat, but he stopped them with a soft gesture of a hand. The servant bowed their head, then placed four plates before Darmon as he seated himself.

“Is there a special occasion I‘m not aware of?”

Various roasted meats and vegetables ruffled up his hunger, the scent of melted butter, rosemary, and thyme twirling into his nostrils. Beside them, beautifully shaped glass bottles contained the translucent alcohol beverage made of anise, its curving form ornamenting the deeply shaded grape and pistachio bowls secured with lemon-mint tarts.

All Darmon’s favorites.

Zheva smiled a little.

“Can’t an old woman be lonely at times?” She earned a glance from Darmon.

Zheva’s face had been painted with curious tenderness today. Her features bore age, and maturity, something Darmon had grown accustomed to through the years. Her sharp, narrow eyes carried authority and wiseness while they let some visible wrinkles build a nest beside them.

Yet, Darmon wouldn’t ever call her as simple as old.

“I just find it unusual, that is all,” he added eventually. There were times when he – shamefully – craved to dine with her, but they never did. Only during lunch, they shared their meals and company truly.

Zheva took a bite from vibrant pink meat, the crystals orienting the last rays of dawn at her as a reflector. Her focus never left her meal.

“You are right, there is an occasion you might not be aware of. Two, perhaps.” She cut another slice, something almost like blood glistening on her chopsticks. “Have I ever told you about my son?”

A piece of carrot stuck in Darmon’s mouth as he stopped chewing. Only for a second, but he did.

“No, I didn’t know you had children.”

“Child,” again, she smiled a little, “only him. Especially after I left his father… or he left us, I am not certain anymore. It doesn’t really matter, I barely remember him and my son didn’t need him to outgrow him. He was a rascal since his birth, but he’d also been loyal and valiant. One could always rely on him in times of need. Qiang, that was his name.”

The biting sensation of the anise liquor did not ease the dryness of Darmon’s throat. All the food tasted delicious, yet somehow still felt as if he was eating sand.

He never heard such affection in Zheva’s voice before, not once. He couldn’t even recall if he ever heard her talk about her past. A legendary warrior of the ages and a believer left with a crumbled faith. There was not a seed of questioning in Darmon for why she never mentioned any of it before. Still, he couldn’t deny his surprise. And something else; a stirring, unsettling shred of thought.

The seed of how little he knew about her truly.

“Sounds as if you two were close.” Why continuing the topic felt like dragging a limp leg, Darmon couldn’t say. His plate almost emptied, his stomach nearly full, but he picked up another, large meat slice nevertheless.

“Hardly. We shared a lot, but his innermost thoughts remained his in the end. I knew only a version of him, one he felt comfortable sharing with me.” Zheva gestured with her hand, and the chandeliers brightened above them. A moderately dim, purplish light conquered the hall. “Raising a child does not equal that you’ll know them best.”

A strange sensation scraped Darmon’s throat; a scoff. He didn’t felt this reaction since… well, a long time ago.

He packed another bite in his already full stomach.

“You two are very akin to never asking questions. Unlike him, however, your nature is curious, Darmon. That much, I know. So, why don’t you ask?”

Traveling rays of light fell under the horizon, and the end of dawn brought darkness to the mountain range and everything slumbering within. As the hall turned completely amethyst from the only remaining source of light, Darmon found himself frozen. He cut the meat in half on his plate, his chopsticks abandoned beside it. He stared at the food, then with slow realization in his chest, he turned to Zheva.

“I never expect to receive an answer, hence why bother.”

Deepening crow’s feet, gentle, dark eyes, and a pause of silence. Then, Zheva put a comforting hand on Darmon’s, and all the cold of the world evaporated into nothing.

“You are free to ask, and with that, you shall earn answers.”

It’s been such a long time. More than a thousand decades, perhaps, since he saw the difference between Zheva and his family. Darmon couldn’t even recall when was the last time he just thought of them, yet their impact still reached him. However, with them, the reason why he joined her in the first palace was reborn as well.

“Why telling me about him now?”

She did not pull her hand back.

“Because today is the day he left me. You see, he did not share my view on how things should be. He loathed the cause I represented, and therefore, he loathed me. Some thousand years before, on this very day, he abandoned his mother. On this very day, I lost my son.” She sounded utterly mournful as she looked into Darmon’s eyes. For the longest time, he even caught a glimpse of some kind of exhaustion and age in that dark gaze. Then, ever so lightly, Zheva squeezed his hand. “Then, on this same day, you joined me.”

Crystals sang under the wind that sneaked inside the place. It reached Darmon, crawling under his padded tunic, yet it could not make him cold. He glanced at the table again, drinking in the view of the delicately prepared food. Meats, spices, alcohol, and tarts. Favorites, with just enough sweetness. Thoughtfulness to please one.

Darmon realized there was a tradition he completely forgot through the years.

And with that, the words unspoken made his eyes sting. Those words Zheva didn’t need to speak aloud. She lost someone today, and still, he was the one she celebrated. When he joined her, when he was reborn. Today, they weren’t celebrating something mundane, but the birthday of her son.

Darmon reluctantly put his hand on hers.

“I could say so many things, I don’t know which to actually say,” he said quietly.

“There’s no need for such formalities. I am grateful you’re beside me. I know what we do is hard, and it is delightful to have someone around, especially when one has a tender heart. Speaking of, I’ve heard you frequently visited the chambers recently.”

Darmon froze upon hearing this. Of course, she would know about it, he wasn’t trying to sneak around. Yet, it still made him tense under her motherly touch.

“It’s admirable how you manage those creatures, I was certain you’ll be the best to take upon this task.”

However appealing the words sounded, he knew it wasn’t exclusively a compliment. Oh no, it wasn’t. Darmon did not break the eye contact, letting those dark irises devour his soul as they stared into them. He would almost say that they spread the darkness around them as the night deepened.

“You can trust me,” he uttered. Why that was the first thing that tiptoed onto his tongue, was a mystery to him as well. He could have thanked her, he could have said he had a plan. But he didn’t. He knew she would be aware of his lies if they were actually those.

Was he worrying about lying without knowing it?

He wasn’t sure anymore. Not when he stood trial under those unwavering eyes and that oh-so-longed motherly touch. Darmon felt shame washing over him as in his shuddering heart he found the tiniest speck of desperate alarm.

Zheva did not smile anymore, yet she leaned closer and breathed a kiss upon Darmon’s forehead.

“I know,” she whispered. “I do.”

#Peoject Metalsea #Metalsea series #Darmon Strotagor #Zheva Wong #Metalsea: Turning Fates #its adding to the time before Darmon decides to leave #idk what is this or where it goes #didnt mean this to be this touchy #i would say its a special occasion and maybe their firsts

[antiquatedsimmer]

As the first rays of dawn illuminated the horizon, Helena quietly guided Eddy home and settled him into bed. Exhaustion washed over her, but there was no time for rest. The responsibilities of the day beckoned, demanding her attention and unwavering commitment.

While Eddy slumbered, lost in the depths of his drunken haze, Helena's day had just begun. With determination etched across her weary face, she embarked on a marathon of tasks, fully aware that the weight of the workload now rested solely on her shoulders.

Sometime afternoon Eddy's eyes fluttered open, greeted by a harsh beam of sunlight that pierced through worn windows. With a groan, he slowly emerged from the tangle of sheets, his head throbbing in protest. He sat on the edge of the bed, his hand cradling his aching temples, as memories from the previous night began to trickle back into his foggy mind.

"Damn... What in the hell did I get myself into?" he muttered, his voice a mix of pain and regret. He sifted through the fragments of his memory, trying to piece together the events that had led to his current state of disarray.

As Eddy sat there, lost in his thoughts and wrestling with the remnants of a pounding headache, the creak of the cabin bedroom door broke the silence. He looked up to find Helena standing in the doorway, bundled in layers of clothing to ward off the chill, a scarf wrapped snugly around her head, and a wool shawl draped over her shoulders. Her tired eyes met his, and for a moment, a flicker of disappointment flashed across her face.

In her hands, she held a steaming cup, its contents swirling with something that smelled like spices. With a detached demeanor, she made her way toward Eddy, She extended the cup toward him, and with her voice lacking its usual warmth said

"Drink this, "It will help ease the pain."

With a mixture of reluctance and gratitude, Eddy accepted the cup from Helena's outstretched hand, his gaze fixed on the steaming liquid within. He could sense the tension in the air, the unspoken words hanging heavy between them, like an impending storm ready to unleash its fury. The pain in his head throbbed incessantly, mirroring the unease in his heart.

Helena took a seat beside him on the bed, her presence a comforting yet unsettling reminder of the argument that was about to unfold.

"It's not more whiskey, Eddy," she said, her voice tinged with a hint of exasperation. "It'll help with your headache."

Eddy winced at the sharp taste of ginger and lemon that assaulted his tongue, causing him to sputter and cough. He had hoped the drink would alleviate his throbbing headache, but its tangy bitterness only added to his discomfort. With a forced smile, he attempted to downplay the previous night's events.

"So, uh, what time did I stumble in last night?" he asked, feigning innocence. "I must've lost track of time while running errands in Finchwick."

Helena's eyes narrowed, a mix of disbelief and frustration etching across her face. She couldn't believe he was trying to brush off the truth so casually.

"You didn't make it home on your own, Eddy," she retorted, her tone laced with a hint of exasperation. "I had to carry you back here. Do you even remember anything?"

Eddy's facade crumbled, replaced by a sense of shame and embarrassment. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his gaze fixed on the floor as the weight of his actions settled upon him.

Helena's frustration finally erupted, her voice tinged with a mix of anger and concern. For a moment, she couldn't contain her emotions and raised her voice, only to quickly soften her tone.

"Do you even realize how worried I was?" she exclaimed, her words laced with a touch of desperation. "I searched all over the woods, fearing the worst. I thought something had happened to you while out hunting!"

#doyle legacy #decade challenge #ts4 #decades challenge #decades legacy #ts4 historical #doyle #Helena Doyle #Eddy Harrington #Edward Harrington #the 1890s #sims story

[richincolor]

New Releases

In terms of my TBR pile, this is a particularly exciting week for me! Several of my most anticipated reads are coming out on Tuesday. Check out what's on deck:

How to Win a Breakup by Farah Heron

First, math genius and gamer-nerd Samaya gets dumped by her boyfriend. Then he sabotages her job and hooks up with her frenemy. What could be worse? Clearly, her golden-boy ex is winning the breakup. The only way Samaya can get some rebound cred is to find someone new. Even if she has to fake it.

At a volunteer bake sale, Samaya meets a sweet opportunity. Daniel is a handsome hockey jock and a whiz when it comes to lemon squares and brownies. And he agrees to play along. Quid pro quo. He’ll pretend to be the boyfriend of her dreams if Samaya helps him pass calculus.

This may well be the recipe for the best revenge, but Samaya has no idea how complicated it will get. As they whip up an imitation romance, and a bumbleberry pie, resisting each other’s very real charms proves impossible. Samaya finds herself on an unexpected journey of secrets, self-discovery, and the true meaning of moving on.

The Moonlight Blade by Tessa Barbosa

I promised my mother I would never come to Bato-Ko…and yet here I am.

Narra Jal is one of the cursed, cast aside her whole life, considered unlucky. But with her mother’s life on the line, she will return to the city where she was born to face the trials: a grueling, bloodthirsty series of challenges designed to weed out the weak, the greedy, and the foolish. Trials to select the next ruler of Tigang.

Narra has nothing. No weapons. No training. No magic. No real chance of leaving with her life. Just her fierce grit and a refusal to accept the destiny she’s been handed. Even the intense, dark-eyed Guardian she feels a strangely electric connection with cannot help her. Narra is on her own. But she’ll show everyone what the unlucky can do.

Brighter Than the Sun by Daniel Aleman

Every morning, sixteen-year-old Sol wakes up at the break of dawn in her hometown of Tijuana, Mexico and makes the trip across the border to go to school in the United States. Though the commute is exhausting, this is the best way to achieve her dream: becoming the first person in her family to go to college.

When her family’s restaurant starts struggling, Sol must find a part-time job in San Diego to help her dad put food on the table and pay the bills. But her complicated school and work schedules on the US side of the border mean moving in with her best friend and leaving her family behind.

With her life divided by an international border, Sol must come to terms with the loneliness she hides, the pressure she feels to succeed for her family, and the fact that the future she once dreamt of is starting to seem unattainable. Mostly, she’ll have to grapple with a secret she’s kept even from herself: that maybe she’s relieved to have escaped her difficult home life, and a part of her may never want to return.

Belle of the Ball by Mari Costa

High-school senior and notorious wallflower Hawkins finally works up the courage to remove her mascot mask and ask out her longtime crush: Regina Moreno, head cheerleader, academic overachiever, and all-around popular girl. There’s only one teensy little problem: Regina is already dating Chloe Kitagawa, athletic all-star…and middling English student. Regina sees a perfectly self-serving opportunity here, and asks the smitten Hawkins to tutor Chloe free of charge, knowing Hawkins will do anything to get closer to her.

And while Regina’s plan works at first, she doesn’t realize that Hawkins and Chloe knew each other as kids, when Hawkins went by Belle and wore princess dresses to school every single day. Before long, romance does start to blossom…but not between who you might expect. With Belle of the Ball, cartoonist Mariana Costa has reinvigorated satisfying, reliable tropes into your new favorite teen romantic comedy.

While You Were Dreaming by Alisha Rai

If Sonia Patil had her way, she’d be attending her local comic con instead of covering a shift for her boss’s daughter. Since Sonia’s mom was deported and her sister, who never claimed deferred status under DACA, had to forgo college to support them, Sonia’s had her hands full with work, school, and pretending everything is okay at home.

Then Sonia, in homemade superhero cosplay, stumbles into saving her crush James’s life. When a video of the daring rescue goes viral, she—or, rather, a mysterious masked savior—is thrust into the spotlight. Now she’s hiding from TikTok detectives while trying to connect with James. And while she’s drawn to his friendly but oblivious nature, she can’t deny her escalating chemistry with another awkwardly charming boy.

Juggling crushes and a secret identity might just take superpowers. Will Sonia be able to hide in plain sight forever?

Lucha of the Night Forest by Tehlor Kay Mejia

A scorned god. A mysterious acolyte. A forgetting drug. A dangerous forest. One girl caught between the freedom she always wanted and a sister she can’t bear to leave behind. Under the cover of the Night Forest, will Lucha be able to step into her own power…or will she be consumed by it?

This gorgeous and fast-paced fantasy novel from acclaimed author Tehlor Kay Mejia is brimming with adventure, peril, romance, and family bonds–and asks what it means for a teen girl to become fully herself.

#brighter than the sun #lucha of the night forest #while you were dreaming #belle of the ball #ya lit #the moonlight blade #how to win a breakup

[randompersonunderyourbed]

Judging you based on your favorite Monster flavor, compliment edition

Monster Energy Default: You’re very into the classics and you’re the nostalgic one of the bunch. chances are that you are either a young teen, or a reminiscing adult.

Monster Zero Ultra: You’re a very wholesome person when it comes to anything, really. You are more likely to like the more light and refreshing flavors, rather than the more strong ones. You may be self conscious about liking ‘basic’ foods/drinks, but don’t worry, that just means you have good taste!

Monster Zero Sugar: You are tired seeing your favorite flavor being made fun of, but it doesn’t matter, like what flavor you like!

Monster Lo Carb: While I’ve never met someone with your taste in real life, you are definitely very nice and probably a bit of a healthy person.

Monster Ultra Peachy Keen: You love sweet things, but you also love sour things, as well. You are definitely so chill, and really kind.

Monster Ultra Watermelon: You love watermelon flavored anything, but not watermelon itself. You love summer and probably love Gravity falls. You are literally so cool.

Monster Ultra Gold: You are extremely chill and a genuinely cool, you seem to love the underrated, not necessarily the hated. You are struggling to find fellow fans of this flavor, but that just means you’re unique!

Monster Ultra Paradise: You love anything lime and think that lemon is overrated, you are very enthusiastic and energetic, and you are very cool.

Ultra Fiesta Mango: You love strong flavors, and you seem to have a taste for the fruit flavors. You have amazing taste and you seem to be very knowledgeable.

Monster Ultra Sunrise: You are a morning lover, dawn is your passion. You are extremely optimistic and you are very connected with the beauty of nature.

Monster Ultra Rosa: You are a sweet and kind person, and you have an addiction to perfume and flowers, it’s almost unhealthy. You also give me Lana Del ray stan vibes.

Monster Ultra Violet: You love purple way too much, and you love flavors that are hard to explain. You also don’t seem straight at all. Same to be honest. You are a very cool person and you seem laid back on the outside, even if not the case.

Monster Ultra Red: You probably don’t like summer, do you? You are very nice and empathetic, but can get really intense sometimes, especially when stressed. You are ver much the definition of nice.

Monster Ultra Blue: You like your drinks cold. You often travel to places with beaches or you live in a very hot place. Either way, you have good taste.

Monster Ultra Black: You love sweet and sour things, and odd yet good tasting things. You are likely very chill and don’t mind the fact that you like things that are underrated.

Monster Ultra Strawberry Dreams: Sweet things are love, sweet things are life. You literally absorb the sweetness from this drink I swear, y’all are so nice.

#monster energy #don’t mind me #sorry if this was offensive

[perlen-gold]

A Moon lit in Paradise

💜🎁💜  A very late 🎂  birthday present for @kourvo​ who graced me with an early and cute birthday present AND a completely stunnnig fanart already! 💜🎁💜    

🌸 HaPpY BiRtHdAy my wonderful friend! 🌸

✨ inspired by Kourvo’s dazzling and crawling art 

(I wrote this in the last 24 hours with a bad pen and typed it in like a maniac without even revising it, so REALLY SORRY for all the mistakes you might find in it, gonna revise it once I’m properly rested and found my way out of this frenzy! I don’t consider this finished in any way and quite crudebut for the sake of scarce time, let this be your birthday present still until I find time to work on this again! If it’s not to your liking, please tell me and I might conceive something else!)

WARNING:

Proceed with caution!

May trigger anxiety and fear for themes of slavery and sexual abuse.

The mirror is an exquisite marvel.

A perfect, silverite-reflecting, superbly balanced oval, high and mighty enough to show a grown man’s face, neck and chest – yet, yet delicate with its sapphire-beads gleaming in a garland of immaculate, nacreous-smooth, swan white pearls.

Its pure-polished water-rippling sheen is poised exactly in the center between two windows; precisely in the impeccable middle of the longest side of the room; at the specific opposite of the curving wall’s touch.

And of exquisiteness this room too is, crescent-shaped as the reaping moon’s sharp-tender sickle, its edges, faultlessly, converging in exactly one single point, directly opposite the fabulous mirror.

Where those identical arcs touch, a wide, double-winged door opens into the inner room circled and ensnarled by the crescent room’s embrace.

This inner room beyond, this sun-drawn sphere, was rich and fragrant with rioting colors as a Rivaini bazaar street. Sweet dulcet-tangerine and tart-lilting lemon drapings, ample-spilling pomegranate cushions and pulsating-pink grapefruit carpets. All these breathed, heady, under a tall ceiling soaring on slim, swift columns. Below, every other tile was placed in a moon-shaped turquoise and lapis lazuli, meticulously smoothed against the tread of thin-sandaled feet, reaching to send a shiver of coolness into a touching finger’s admiration.  

Heavy gold embroidery adorns the walls, golden painting frames, golden vases abloom with crystal-grace and dawn flowers, golden hangings and busts, the circling walls flanked with narrow gold-inlayed mahogany tables placed with an curiosity of magnificent magical artifacts and heirlooms.

At all times, the waning sun slides through the skylights into the colorful vastness of the room in a shower of lit ornaments, a dancing pattern of moons and ovals and mosaics, of shade and light, but never straight or sultry, its rays constantly guided through soft arcs and cupped lattice work so the light only sprinkled the women and men’s feet below, never daring to bear hotly upon their heads. Draped seats and couches, abundant cushions and embroidered pillows strewn below.

Interspersed, between sun-caressed busts or gold-edged paintings on the circular wall are immaculately identical ground gold plates, beaten into exquisite beauty.

Behind these, there are small glass inlays in the crescent room. Through which eyes, vulpine or perceptive, greedy or insidious, could look on into the circular inner one. Without the glimpse of a scent’s detection.

The outer crescent room, however, is cooler than this one. Of a dark purple with silver lines, cooler and more quiet. Peaceful and secluded. It drapes itself around the inner room like a shawl of deepest silk translucent with the dark sheen of ripe grapes, slipping through fingers like water woven with lavender and silver threads.

On each side of the sapphire-splendid and pearl-brilliant mirror perfectly round windows, almost reaching the mirror’s width and length, cut into the curved wall.

They are powdered with filigree sylvan-wooden lattice work, delicate enough to delude a flower’s tender stem and ivy’s sinful vines, where only moonlight filtered silvery through.

It is so delicately wrought that only the blinking eye in front of it would notice its intricate dance, and one gazing up from the inner courtyard garden may believe the round windows to be perfectly open. And yet, nothing which ever moves behind them may be spotted by a parviscient eye such as theirs.

Down in the once dust-breathing, now lush and blooming garden. A small boy is crying.

A small crease eases and creates itself between Fenris’ brows.

It is unapparent why his tears as glistening rain stain his dark-hued cheeks or bedew his large-squeezed lashes as rock-crushed sea spray.

Fenris can only see him weeping.

In front of him, the exquisite mirror is silent, a dark and soundless image just as the boy outside.

It was a second’s flutter, an hour’s fraction of a thousand images, of measuring time.

Other reflections in the garden slant. A maid’s jug splashing silver water over an opulent oleander bush. A horse’s snickering, white-blessed hooves on the dust-leaping outer courtyard. An errand’s quick-fleeing, myrtle-swimming feet.

Behind Fenris, distant voice-paths waft high in the ceiling, some low as the plum-lilting pillows on the single reclined couch below the mirror, not as bright and sweet as the citrus-hymn in drapes beyond the walls. He can feel them swish around, drift to and fro, brushing his muscle’s taut attention or fleeing his skin’s bronze-smooth alert.

A small bead of water is sliding down Fenris’ neck. It carves out the hollows below the muscles in his shoulders as if from within the sheen of his dark-molded skin. Not a sun-honeyed warmth but silverite-molten moonlight. Another one glides down from the wet tip of his hair, riding further than the first, along his collarbone, a luster pearl of water almost as flawless as the hundred lacing the silver mirror. His hair is still wet from his bath, the marble tiles pleasantly cool against the soles of his feet, the hot flush, the chill rivulets of his skin damp as of yet.

A slow night has descended as a lyre’s soaring tunes, inventing dusk, transforming day into evening and evening into night.

With time, the lemon and pomegranate voices had lulled themselves into a dreamlike state, like flowers swaying gently, half-closed petals fragrant with paradise, only stirring occasionally by a dancer’s hand’s tender touch.

“They eased well,” a soft inflection of the room calls amidst the purple-velvet folds of the moonlit night. Fenris’ body turns when the voice spoke softly, “No.” The twilight smiles upon itself. “Such an easy fright.”

A step. Closer.

“Many a man and woman quiver so easily in face of strength and power. More rapidly so in the face of beauty.”

The pearl-woven emeralds ponder their own cobalt-night glow. “Why … amusement is in the new, the fools say. So it is in knowledge and anticipation, it seems.”

Fenris replies not. There is no need to.

His eye’s emerald sheen still pierces the night’s many pleats and creases.

Closer. Another step.

Streaming inside through the windows, the silver-blue bears a hot day’s warmth still, a drop of igneous honey with a breeze of thyme-tinted moisture, soaring from the far shores of the ceaseless sea.

“It feels better without it?”

Fenris’ lips move without the crest touching the shore.

“Yes.”

Seamless, like sand sliding underneath the surf at last, fingertips, sleek as the sapphire’s polished cut, glide up Fenris’ shoulder blades like fingers rubbing against the inside of a nacreous shell. Long fingers curve, cusp themselves to Fenris’ shoulder, contoured against his skin. Almost, they dip unholy long into the ascending night. As though their elongated shadows try to reach beyond their boundaries, beyond their allowance.

The silver moonlight brushes at the robe. Touch when the silk is slowly, almost reluctantly fleeing the long, curved hand as a sandpiper the rush of the incoming tide.

The moon-lit light and Fenris feel the silk rustle against his arms and lose wrists. The enameled fabric’s caress against his waist. Before it drops in a silken heap, crumbled around his ankles.

The long fingers slowly scatter across Fenris’ skin, spread against his still throat

Yet it is the whispering silk’s fragrant touch the other finger pads follow, a longing trace of  night’s blue outside his bones; inside his wrists.

Somewhere, Fenris can taste the silver light on his tongue, dipping into his own heart’s rapid beat.

A faint, ache-white trace of merest light streams off where the hands touch, carve, brush, spill. Soar weaving writing thinnest moonlight into sapphire folds.

The silk lies crumpled, bereft of its glorious sheen, on the floor.

“It feels better without this, too, my little wolf?” mutter twilight’s sapphire lips into Fenris’ ear, breathing into the silver rhythm of his heart.

“Yes, master.”

As Fenris’ lips stir to shape the moonlight into words, his eyes graze the mirror’s dark exquisiteness.

Startled, all but a slight frown evanesces from his eyebrows. He raises his low head a little, to observe. Almost, he touches them with the confused pads of his fingers, in silverite-redolent astonishment. 

To observe the silver smears below the hollows of his rising eyes.

But it is only a lingering memory. A resurfacing of the image of the small boy in the garden. It must merely be a reflection of the slivered light.

It is nothing but the moon-lit, sapphire-held pearls gleaming inside the exquisite mirror.

#Fenris #fenris fanfiction #Danarius #Tevinter #dragon age fanfiction #dragon age 2 #dragon age II #da2 #da 2 #da II #my writing #one shot #dragon age one shot #I'm sorry #SO sorry #:((( #fenris' past #dragon age #slavery #proceed with caution please!

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

HANDS ON YOU — 026

IN WHICH; ILAND 2 happened and you debuted first place as the leader of LUMIÉRE. Having been told that your group is involved in a lore crossover with ENHYPEN, you navigate work, friendship, and love while trying to make it in an industry filled with animosity and condemnation. When life throws you lemons, you gotta make lemonades chuck it right back!

smau + written (0.3k words)

❥･• chapter 26 — way back home

"Lee Heeseung." He freezes in his tracks upon hearing his full name, a name that come to think about, had never left your lips before.

"Yes?" He turns around sheepishly to face you. The two of you are standing in front of his dorm, and he nervously fidgets with the number pad behind him. "You're hiding something." You squint, and Heeseung mentally curses at your keen leader instincts.

"No, I just want to show you my room!"

"What are you, twelve?"

"Don't ask so many questions." He hurriedly punches in the code to his dorm, opening the door to find the apartment completely pitch black. He gestures for you to enter first, and though suspicious, you don't refuse. "Aren't you off today? Where's the rest of your mem—"

"SURPRISE!" You jump as the lights flicker on, revealing the living room adorned with string lights and balloons spelling out "Sorry" on the wall. It takes a moment for the scene to register—the entirety of ENHYPEN is there, along with your own members, every single one of them.

You stand frozen in the doorway, speechless, as if the whole world has come to a standstill for a moment while you take in the sight before you—your members, who somehow made up while you were away, holding each other with open arms extended to you.

"My arm is starting to hurt. Are you going to bring it in or not?" Ray breaks the silence, flicking her wrist as a sign for you to quickly join in on the Lumière group hug. Just then, you feel two hands rest on your shoulders, relieving them from the tension that had built up over the past two days.

"Go on, they're waiting for you." Heeseung's gentle voice cuts through the white noise filling your ears. In an instant, tears well up in your eyes as you rush into the arms of the people you'd give everything for.

"But how did…?"

Realisation dawns on you, and you whirl around to face the culprit. "So that's why you were acting so strange! You were distracting me!" You point an accusing finger at Heeseung, who shrugs and pouts at the same time.

“I’m sorry Y/N, for being the whiny and childish bitch I am. I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on any of you like that, I hope you know I care about you too, truly.” Ray speaks out and you swear you almost burst into a fit of tears.

“Ray, you already know I’m basically immune to all the shit you say right?” You light-heartedly joke and you heave a sigh of relief when you notice Ray deflates into herself, relieved that she didn’t completely lose you. You’ve always knew that Ray has a soft spot for you and the members, she just never really knows how to express it. Realising maybe that’s why Ray finds confort in Sunghoon and vice versa. They see themselves in each other and no one can understand Ray better than the man who fought 1 vs 6 with his own members. You smile to yourself when you catch him smiling solemnly at the girl, proud of how far she’s come.

"Whose idea was this?" You point to the gigantic balloon-spelled "Sorry," and they all collectively point toward Aejeong, who scrunches her nose.

"I hate all of you."

"We love you too, AJ," Ray laughs, throwing an arm around Aejeong, who looks like she's about to cry.

"I mean it, Y/N. I am so, so sorry for what I did to you. I’m not even going to give you any excuses, I just hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me." You exchange glances with each and every one of your members, knowing deep down that no matter what happens, you’d go to hell and back with them over and over again.

"AJ, how can I forgive you when I never blamed you for anything in the first place?" You pull her into a hug, and the rest of the girls slowly join in, surrounding you with the love and affection that you had missed over the past few days.

“How did this happen?” You pull away, looking back and forth between Ray and Aejeong, their arms tightly wrapped around each other. “We kissed and made up. What about it?" Aejeong playfully pecks Ray's cheek, causing the later to pull away with a jerk.

"Ayo, back up," Sunghoon appears behind Ray, protectively pulling her away from Aejeong. His own members coo at him from the back, finding his protective gesture adorable.

The room erupts in laughter and playful banter as Sunghoon and Ray exchange teasing glances. "Oh, look who's getting all protective now," Jake teases, nudging Sunghoon's shoulder.

Sunghoon tries to maintain a serious expression but fails as a smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "Someone's got to keep this girl in line," he says, giving Ray a mock stern look.

"Hey, I can handle myself just fine," Ray retorts, but her playful tone gives away her amusement. She looks at Sunghoon with a fond smile, appreciating his protective nature.

The members continue to tease Sunghoon and Ray, adding to the lighthearted atmosphere in the room. You can't help but smile as you witness the playful interaction. Seeing your members and ENHYPEN getting along again brings you a sense of relief and happiness.

It's evident that the tension and misunderstandings have been resolved, and now the focus is on rebuilding their bond and enjoying each other's company. Amidst the chaos, you lock eyes with Heeseung who offers you a reassuring smile of his own.

Heeseung's presence in your life is a constant reminder of the importance of empathy, forgiveness, and growth. That no matter how chaotic your surroundings are, even in the middle of the most busiest street, that you’d still somehow find your way to him.

Having taught you that mistakes are opportunities for learning and that unity and understanding can mend even the deepest wounds. With Heeseung by your side, you felt supported and ready to face any challenges that lay ahead, whatever they may be…

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♡。·˚˚· ·˚˚·。♡

authors note: stayc girls, it’s going down(2) btw i apologise for the increase in written chapters. istg i’m trying to avoid writing them but it’s so difficult 🥲

taglist! open. @softiehee @annoyingbitch83 @hoon0logy @aernx @lhees01 @flower0930 @harperwasstaken1 @haechansbbg @renjunoya @heeheesang @spilled-coffee-cup @jwnghyuns @ocyeanicc @neozon3nha @pshchives @casualzo @captivq @suvgs @iea-tsand @yohanabanana @wonyoungsvirus @shinsou-rii

#belift #enhypen #heeseung #hybe #jay #jungwon #sunghoon #heeseung x reader #idol au #iland #jake sim #sunoo #nishimura riki #heeseung smau #enhypen fluff #enhypen social media au #enhypen angst #enhypen smau #enha smau #tfwy handsonyou #jake #kpop smau #smau

[inquisimer]

For the DADWC: A conversation you wish had happened in canon for Cullen x Lavellan?

ahhhh thank you! have a lil platonic Cullen & Lavellan, because the only verse I have where clan lavellan dies is with my solasmanced Inquisitor

I mean WHAT

for @dadrunkwriting

~~~ She walked about Skyhold as if in a daze.

Her duties as Inquisitor were second nature, by now. She approved requisitions and conversed with the visiting nobility and watched training yard with glazed eyes, present and attending but not present and attending.

She carried Deshanna’s letter with her always. Either in her pocket or clutched in her hand, like contact with the parchment might bring her clan back to life.

Live well, da’len. You carry Clan Lavellan with you.

How could she be here, with the shems, with some Chantry-founded movement while the soldiers in Wycome slaughtered her family? How could she live with herself?

Maybe she wouldn’t.

Her friends were concerned; she could see it, even if it felt like she was observing a play, set apart from the events that happened on stage. Dorian brought her coffee in the morning, or tea when he knew she’d been up too late the night before. He fretted about, choosing the most comfortable outfits while still upholding her style and braiding her hair so that it was less noticeable that she hadn’t washed it in days. Josephine called war councils later in the morning and had pastries brought in, always the Inquisitor’s favorite, the flaky kind with lemon jam in the middle.

She spent more time in the tavern, because the Chargers didn’t question her choice to drown her sorrows in ale the way Solas or Leliana did. They clapped her on the back with sage advice and serenaded her tears with horribly drunken anthems. But try as she might, she couldn’t run from the truth of her feelings forever. Sleep was hardly her friend, what with the monsters that filled her dreams nowadays, so she took to the battlements. She should have know that she wasn’t the only one in Skyhold who had trouble sleeping.

“Inquisitor?”

Cullen was in full armor, despite the fact that is was barely dawn by the most optimistic of standards. Irosyl straightened out of her hunch, wincing as the sudden movement sent the crumbling stonework falling toward the courtyard below.

“It’s early,” said the Commander, brow wrinkling with concern.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

“Shouldn’t you?” countered Irosyl. She was on the defensive immediately, all too aware of how his eyes swept over the purple stamps under her eyes and the sagging of her tunic off her frame. Upon close inspection, however, he couldn’t argue much better. His eyes were ringed with the dark stain of sleeplessness and his reflexes were those of the sleep-deprived.

“Perhaps,” he conceded. He leaned against the wall of the battlements and Irosyl copied him, trying not to make it too obvious how relieved she was to have something physical supporting her weight. Based on the unconcealed skepticism with which he watched her, she wasn’t too successful.

They stood there in silence for a while, watching the rays of sunlight claw their way over the horizon. The first of the guard regiments passed by the pair, but other than a few curious glances, they left the Inquisitor and her commander undisturbed. She saw Morris rise and take his usual place alongside the requisition table; Cassandra, composed and ready to train as always; and the healers, taking stock of how their patients fared overnight.

Still, Cullen didn’t break the silence.

“Your parents,” Irosyl finally said, deciding she’d given him enough time to flee if he wanted to avoid unpleasant discussion, “how did you mourn them?”

“How did I mourn them? Or how did I move past mourning them?”

“Both, I suppose.”

“I lit a lot of candles,” he said softly. “In Kirkwall, mostly. As for how I moved past it—I’ll let you know when it happens.”

A sigh slipped past Irosyl’s careful guard and she slumped even further against the stonework.

“I’m sorry.”

The apology was barely a whisper, but her keen elven hearing had no trouble detecting it. Her brow creased in a frown.

The fault for what happened in Wycome could only lie with her. She had been the one to disregard Guinevere’s advice to not send Inquisition troops. Maybe she’d been forced to make too many decisions where military force was the best or simply the only option; even in the face of a perfectly viable alternative, she’d ordered Cullen’s troops to march.

So why was Cullen apologizing?

“What for?”

“That we can’t give you time to grieve. I wish there was a better option.”

“There was a better option,” said Irosyl bitterly. She tucked her chin into her shoulder, angling her face away from him so she didn’t have to see the pity in his eyes. Pity was the last thing she deserved; ridicule, shame, guilt—that was what she deserved, and more. “I was just too blind to see it.”

“We could have pushed harder, done more research—“

“There wasn’t time. As always.”

A featherlight touch hovered over her shoulder, as if Cullen felt compelled to offer comfort but wasn’t sure where the boundary was. He froze when Irosyl flinched and she immediately felt another wave of guilt, but she couldn’t help it. Physical reassurance was rare among the shems and her last memory of it was with Aedan, stroking her hair and holding her after a nightmare.

Aedan, who’d been so full of humor and warmth and goodness, now with rosy cheeks turned pale and brilliant green eyes gone lifeless, staring forever into the void—

Hot tears welled up in her throat and spilled out onto her cheeks. As her shoulders shook with the force of her sobs, Cullen seemed to lose whatever reservations he had for propriety. He pulled her into an embrace, encompassing her with all his mass and warmth. Her tears soaked his mantle as she sobbed into his shoulder, releasing not only the insurmountable grief over her clan’s fate, but the weight that she’d carried since Haven: of being thrust unceremoniously into the role of figurehead, Herald, harbinger of safety; of isolation and forced association with many who saw her as lesser than; of the pain—emotional and physical—of strange, foreign magic piercing her hand.

She wasn’t sure how much time passed before she’d composed herself enough to draw back. Long enough that the fur of his surcoat was thoroughly slicked with her tears, certainly long enough that a guard rotation must have come by, but she couldn’t muster the energy to be embarrassed, or concerned about the implications. She felt hollow, like a pumpkin with the seeds scooped and scraped for carving, raw and vulnerable and splayed open. Her heart couldn’t go on like this. But she didn’t have a choice.

She rubbed viciously at her eyes, smearing the residual tears across her cheeks and pressing her lids into her eye sockets until the burn from the pressure was more prevalent than the stabbing in her chest. No doubt her face would be in an even more sorry state than usual for the morning’s war council.

Gently, like a blanket settling over a sleeping child, Cullen’s hands covered hers and pulled them away from her face. His face bore out his concern and grief and regret; Irosyl wished desperately that she could soothe it, rather than cause it. As if this man didn’t have enough burdens already. She let him hold her hands as they stared into each other’s eyes, searching for something: assurance, perhaps, of healing, but there was none to be found. They were something familiar though, and she recognized the longing and aching craters in his soul.

She swiped at her face with the sleeve of her tunic, stepping back to put a proper amount of space between them. One of Cullen’s hands drifted after her, like it thought to stop her retreat, until he jerked it back to his side. He cleared his throat and looked down at the courtyard, giving Irosyl a clear view of the blush rising on his neck. The sun had risen properly now; they would both be expected in the war room soon.

“I know that you have…others to support you,” said Cullen haltingly, one hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. Irosyl rocked back on her heels and tried—unsuccessfully—not to think of the awkward moment over a chessboard where he’d called out her budding relationship with Solas.

“Should you ever need someone to talk to, you know where to find me.” Cullen jerked his head in the direction of his office and his blush intensified. She could almost hear his train of thought: she knows where your office is, you fool, it’s her fortress and she’s been there a million times—

She managed something resembling a smile, half of her mouth quirking up in a watery approximation of mirth. It was the closest she’d gotten in weeks.

“There are, uh, a few things I should retrieve before the council,” Cullen said, clearing his throat once more. Irosyl nodded absently and he took it as the dismissal it was, leaving her to fiddle with the worn and bloodstained letter as she fell back into her cloud of grief.

#dadwc #my writing #dragon age #oc: irosyl lavellan #lavellan & cullen #dai

[moongate-climber]

Sugar

It was all so routine, his circadian rhythm finely tuned, a body clock that would make the finest swiss engineer marvel, eyes opening at precisely 4:58AM, two minutes before his alarm. This was important to him, losing a couple minutes of shut-eye was but a small price to pay to intercept his alarm and let her sleep.

His right arm, which had spent the last six hours draped over her chest, slowly breaks contact to reach up and grab the phone off the nightstand. His left arm, extended under her pillow, is extricated with surgical precision. Before lifting his head he closes his eyes and inhales her aroma one last time, it puts him deep in the heart of dense autumn woods...there's no place he'd rather be, and if he could he'd stay there forever. But there's no time to linger more than a moment, and the most complex dance step comes next. In one motion he slides himself back to the opposite edge of the bed and silently signals for one of her four legged companions to occupy the warm space he just vacated. Quietly stepping towards the door he turns to admire her once more. A shimmer of moonlight through the bedroom window providing enough illumination for him to make out all the lines of her face and the soft curves of her body...a silhouette he burns into his memory to get him through the day.

Sneaking out the bedroom door down the hall to the kitchen where the coffee pot, prepped the night before, is started with a simple flick of the switch. Such mundane action he almost didn't notice the note on top of the coffee maker "Mornin' Honey". Not even stubbornly elevated levels of melatonin could suppress the smile growing on his face.

Everything he needed was awaiting him in the bathroom, a shower, a change of clothes, deodorant, toothbrush...when he exited 15 minutes later only the quick fill of a travel mug stood between him and the morning commute.

The first light of dawn began to transition the horizon from navy to lavender. Backing out of the driveway a few rays of sun scattered across the windshield, sparkling like a lemon sorbet on tempered glass. He reached up to flip down his visor when out falls a small 3"x3" note..."Drive safe babe". Fully awake there is no resistance this time, a grin as wide as his jaw adorns his face and his nervous system responding in kind with micro-oscillations fired through every synapse. As many times as he's been the recipient of such loving endowments they were never predictable, and always heart-warming...and just how she managed to hide them there he'll never know!

Parking in his usual spot on the north side of the building to reduce the thermal load on black leather leather seats, the day began like any other. Walking in at precisely 6:09, saying hello to weary nightshift security guard and pretending he didn't notice they were asleep upon entry. Sitting down at his desk he sets the travel mug in its dedicated spot and removes the laptop from his backpack. Ordinarily there'd be no reason to flip it open, the docking station was equipped with dual monitors and a wireless keyboard & mouse. But today, something just felt different to him, following his intuition he flipped the laptop screen to the upright position. "Hi Sugar"

She is perfect.

[penmanship-of-the-keys]

here's an epilogue to twice that we decided to cut, by the way

[recording start]

"Well, it's done," sighed Fate, leaning back in his chair and looking at the ceiling. "What a fucking ride that was."

"Five months to write forty thousand words," said X. "I'm proud of you."

"Yeah," added Exy. "God, they'll never get the full story of what happened after, will they? Or how me and X finally made up. Or how the second invasion got foiled, days before it was scheduled to launch. Or why you're finally awake."

"Well, our friends know, don't they?" asked Fate. "Most people will only ever know me as Fate. A couple will know my name, after all. There's ten months of history here."

"And to think we posted it all to ao3 under the guise of a fanfiction," said X. "Incredible."

"Yeah," said Fate. "Oh, by the way, the camera's running. Dawn wanted me to announce to everyone that they really, really like lemons."

"Hello, ao3- oh wait, we're scrapping this, aren't we?" asked X.

"It's more of a 'hello, Tumblr,'" said Fate. "I'll put this on our writing sideblog later. They'll know. And if they don't, well, they will soon. Got anything for the funny internet people, Exy?"

"Oh, yeah," said Exy. "Don't worry about my death. I get better. And don't worry about how I got here, either. Brain's gonna brain, after all."

"Make sure to drink water," said X from the back of the room.

"Lovely, fantastic, great," said Fate (Ray). He reached towards the camera. "Well, this has been your narrator talking, as well as a couple other people. Thanks for reading this, or whatever. Have fun!"

[recording ends]

#ray's tag

[phoenixprophecydrekidivinations]

Tess

La Lune: Flash From The Past #SL #Bane #HellRaisers #PhoenixProphecy

[A relaxing sigh slips past slightly parted lips, the heat from a purification bath slowly easing tension in my shoulders and back. Tonight was a full moon and it couldn’t have come at a more perfect time. 

I’d been feeling the darkness slowly creeping up, wanting to be unleashed. 

To roam freely. 

The moon was a strong healing force that helped to quell that side of me. I sink down into the steamy salt waters, small bubbles encircling me as I visualize the negative energy leaving. 

I break the surface, slicking my dark locks back then sit up to release the stopper.  Honey hazels watch mesmerized as the milky water slowly circles down the drain before I rise up, waterdrops trickle traveled tanned curves. 

Reaching for the clean towel on the nearby rack I pat dry before I pad out of the bathroom with bare feet carrying me to the vanity.  Pruned hands reach out for the glass bottle filled with diluted lemon oil. 

The oil would allow me to be more attuned to the lunar energies and this ritual was something I did with each full moon. I leisurely apply the oil into my damp skin, setting the bottle aside then crossing over to my bed to slip on a white sheer ritual dress. 

I grab jewelry next, gold chains and bangles draped on my neck and decorating my delicate wrists. With fingers combing through my hair to air dry, I look around my room for anything else I’ll need. 

My honey hazel eyes catch sight of the bag I packed earlier and loop it over my shoulder to keep the strap lying across my chest as I slip a shawl around my shoulders. 

Lids lowered, I focus on summoning up my magick.

Molecules fading off on the wind to dematerialize off. I reform at the abandoned temple deep in the jungles of South America. 

My feet cool from the mossy growth as I pad over with purpose to the cement altar. Shawl was shrugged free from my shoulders, the silky fabric dropping in a slow flutter to the ground below. 

I pull off the bag, opening the flap after dropping it to the chilled cement top, fingers sliding inside to gather the honey jar, cinnamon, and roses. 

I’d been meaning to thank the Goddess Oshun for her blessings this past season and felt the first full moon of the New Year was best. 

I set the jars around the candles, the gold chains removed from around my neck  as an offering as I flicked fingertips to ignite the long waxy wicks, and turned on my heel to start a small bonfire. 

A grin plays over my full lips, feeling my body already starting to tingle as the lunar beams begin to shower their energy down on me. 

Turning back to the roses, I begin to pluck their red and pink petals, walking along the edge of a  fountain within the overgrown temple, dropping the petals into the rippling water. I dip my toes in the cool waters a moment allowing my mind to free as the moon makes my body hum more. Ears ringing. The pitch is growing. 

With a sigh of relief I turn back to the flames dancing in the fire I’d built, feet dancing with a twirl slowly around the perimeter of the flickering flames, the gold bangles tinkling musically with each fluid movement. 

My body vibrates stronger, my head dizzy as I tilt it back to bathe in the healing moon beams. I’d continue my dancing, adding some singing to cleanse my body from this dark feeling until the sun rose or my body finally exhausted. I smile up at the starry night, thanking the Goddess before my expression cracks at the sound of strange howls not far in the distance.]

[The howls drew closer to the temple that night. Feet scrambling to the altar as I delved my hand inside swiftly yanking free a ritual knife. I had not expected any trouble and it was the only thing I had packed that could be used as a weapon. 

I clutched the hilt tightly in my grasp, keeping myself awake until the first rays of dawn. The sky alit with hues of pink and orange. I left the aged and crumbling structure behind to relocate to a casita not far away. 

Something about those strange howls had stirred my curiosity. 

Well that and the odd mental message warning to stay south. 

At first I thought the mind prickling was Viktoria’s, my cursed other half, spirit guide Tonia. She still lingered after the curse was broken, to watch over me, but this felt different. 

Not wanting to risk anything, I opted to stay in South America. I needed time away from #TrinitySprings. 

I occupied most of my time delivering some essentials to the small secluded villages in the surrounding area.

The humid nights were quiet and calming, and helped ease the residual tension and stress aches from my body. 

Days drifting in and out.

While it was soothing being out here away from everything I still had the peculiar feeling of being watched from the shadows of the night jungle. 

What could be stalking me I wasn’t sure, but it didn’t seem threatening.

By the end of the week I had felt lighter, almost rejuvenated and decided to leave the isolated patch of the Amazonas to travel further south to Rio. 

I packed up some clothes in a small bag, tucking it into the saddle bags of my dirt bike before locking up the casita to begin my long journey. I mount and straddle the bike and rev it to life. 

The purr of the engine makes my body vibrate from my head, to my shapely jean covered thighs and shit kickers.  I back out the drive slowly and turn the handle bars, revving up the speed as I hit the open road. 

I gun the engine, the mirrored lens on my aviators glinting in the sunlight as I lean low over the roaring engine to take a sharp curve in the road. My keen sight takes in the scenery passing by me in a blur of colors as my hair flickers wildly, trailing behind me along with the exhaust fumes.

Upon entering the city I noticed how alive it was with preparations for Carnival. I had forgotten all about the festival and was excited to see the celebrations. 

I drove through the packed streets heading toward the hotel I’d made reservations for and after checking in and stowing my things away I enjoyed a nice cool shower to wash the road off of my heated skin. 

I rested for a while, my sore cheeks and body thanking me for the reprieve before I awoke to slip on a summer dress and some sandals to join the celebratory atmosphere. The colors were vibrant with deliciously curved ladies, and hard sculpted male performers covered in different bright costumes with various exotic plumages peeking out from their headdresses and skimpy skirts.  

The air was filled with rhythmic samba music amping up the festive energy.  I was enjoying being so immersed in the carefree celebrations and parades until a new contract came across the wire.

Leaving the parade behind I strode back to my rented suite to decipher the encrypted files on my laptop. I scan over the available details, the price just right and typing out a confirmation of interest I quickly shove my things into my bag. 

With an almost gleeful grin playing on my lips I say goodbye to the buzzing city and speed down an empty road. I punch out a hand, fingers splaying out to summon a portal. 

The magick ripples as I pass through before it shrinks to a small bubble to seal completely. My body and bike transport through the tunnel of magick to pass through time and space taking us from Brazil to my next destination Dubai.] 

#PhoenixProphecy #DrekiDivinations #Bane #Tess #SurrealInk

[elsanna-shenanigans]

April Contest Submission #3: Sunday Coffee and Cocoa

Words: ca. 3,000 Setting: AU Lemon: no Content: No warnings. All Fluff

Sunday mornings: some hate it while others embrace it. It's the day before a new week starts and the inevitable feeling of having to leave your sanctuary to instead roam freely around other people. Going to work, college or just out and about. Sundays in the Oldenburg household were always different depending on the week beforehand. You either get hectic or calm. Today's Sunday, April 3rd of 2022, you're going to be greeted with a calmer environment. 

Dawn begins to slowly break over the rooftops of the normally bolstering city to create a beautiful warm orange hue that slowly bleeds through the parted curtains in the darkened bedroom. An occupied balcony attached to the bedroom holds a beautiful young woman with snow white hair and intense blue eyes. A baby blue coffee mug nestled in between her pale hands as the warmth became her only salvation to the crisp cool morning. Spring had come in full clutch and the promise of summer was not far behind. 

The steam from her hot coffee curled up and wisped around her nose, filling her senses with a mixture of vanilla and caffeine. In these moments of silence, Elsa was able to gather her thoughts. Thinking about the bigger picture that people call life. Her gaze never left the sky. Always watching as the sunrise became more prominent until the sun filled the sky completely. Deep purples, pinks and oranges are gone and replaced by a sky blue. Sunrises were always Elsa's favorite. Sunsets were her sister's favorites. 

The thought of Anna caused a loving smile to break across the elder woman's face as she lifted the mug to her lips for a small sip. The scolding liquid always soothed Elsa upon first touch. Anna? Not so much. Anna hated coffee, she preferred hot cocoa. That was warm. 

"Anna, it's not hot cocoa if it's warm." 

"Yes, it is! You're just some crazy lady who would rather scold her taste buds off than enjoy her drink." 

"That is not true." 

"So true." 

Elsa chuckles into her mug at the memory. It was the first night in their shared apartment, and Anna insisted on making her hot cocoa more of a warm cocoa. They bickered over the temperature of the drinks for a little while longer before Elsa had teased Anna into submission and caused the younger woman to blush a deep red and then leave the room altogether, so she didn't have an episode of word vomit in front of her beloved older sister. 

Following the rays of the morning sun that illuminated the once dark room, there sat a nice queen-sized bed. A dark red comforter adorning the mattress with an unmoving lump in the middle. Bright red hair sticking out from the tops of the blanket and introducing us to another inhabitant. 

Anna was a deep sleeper and Elsa knew that nothing would wake her if their alarm clock wasn't set to go off at 6 every morning. It was reaching 7 am and that gave Anna more reason to sleep in comfortably. 

Elsa didn't return inside until her mug was completely empty. And she took her time with the beverage. Even drinking it after it had gotten 'Anna' warm. She quietly slid the balcony door open before stepping into the bedroom. The warm air greeted her like a warm blanket that had just been tumbled in the dryer and pulled out to be used. She took a second to let the last of the chill leave her body before heading over to her vanity and pulling out a notepad and a pen. She quickly wrote out a letter for Anna to read when she did finally wake up. She folded it up and then sealed it with a little heart next to Anna's name, just like how she knew her sister liked, before giving the mess of red hair a kiss. She stood back up to admire the slumbering woman, her heart swelling at the soft snoring sounds emitting from the covers. But eventually she left the room to start the day. 

If the girls have nothing planned, then Elsa leaves the apartment to do some last minute food shopping. She always buys a week worth of meals on either Friday night if she's got weekend plans or Sunday morning. She'll mostly be out till early afternoon, around the time Anna does eventually roll herself out of bed. There have been times where Anna slept until she smelled food. While mostly she'll be up before Elsa gets back so she can help put away groceries and even cook. 

With Elsa gone, the apartment grew silent. The smell of coffee lingering behind being the only reminder that she was even there. 

~~~

10:58 a.m. was when Anna began to rouse from her sleep. She had a routine.

She'd first stretch out so far that it looked like she was being stretched out by some invisible force. She'd do this until all of her bones and muscles popped back into place only for her to melt into her bed. She will lay there for a few minutes, unmoving. And depending on how tired she was, she'd either fall back to sleep for another hour or she'd get up and begin her day. Then she'd sit up and yawn, stretch some more, and then slowly allow her brain to catch up with her body. 

Today, however, Anna's hand had hit the note her sister left behind. Which was her reasoning to get up. She grabbed the perfectly folded letter and flipped it open while yawning into her free hand. 

My dearest Anna, 

I left to grab some groceries for the week. If you manage to wake up before i get there then go grab a bath and wait for me in the kitchen. It's your turn to pick out what we have for dinner and breakfast. And don't worry, I'll buy you some more hot cocoa, because it seems you only have enough left to make yourself a single cup. 

Sincerely yours, 

Elsa. ~ ❤️

Once Anna was done reading the letter, she was wearing a wide grin on her face. She absolutely loved it when Elsa left her notes like this. It wasn't an everyday thing but when she did manage to find time, Anna was never disappointed. She hugged the paper to her chest before scrambling off the bed to hide it in her secret spot away from Elsa. She wouldn't admit to it but she kept every last note Elsa had written to her. 

It was a little wooden box that she found while thrift shopping with Kristoff. It had been damaged a bit but all in all, it was the best 5 bucks she had ever spent. And Anna kept it in a little cubby hole in their shared closet. It's the only area Elsa hasn't been in because the hole is covered by the stacks of shoe boxes, she owns that Anna uses as a door. Plus, Elsa hates dark places that she can't see. Half the time she thinks that there's creepy crawlers in them and she'd never know what she'd be touching. So, Anna knew it would be the best place for it. 

Elsa knows about the place. But she's never looked in the box and she's never told Anna about finding it. She's not the type of person who dwells on secrets, so it wasn't a big deal to her. And Anna never pulls the box out, so she guessed it was something kept from her until Anna was ready to show her. 

After Anna made sure the box was back in its spot, she replaced the shoe boxes exactly how they were before and then left the closet. She decided that she'd skip the bath until Elsa got back so they could enjoy one together after brunch. Of course, she stopped in to wash her face and brush her hair. Cause holy hell, she looked like some wild animal with how her hair stuck up all over the place. Ten minutes, and a sore head later, Anna found herself sat at the bar that separated the kitchen from the living room. A bright yellow mug in her hand with her warm cocoa. 

She sat there and let her mind wander. Making it look like she was in a complete daze as she stared at the wall opposite her. 

~~~

The sound of the front door unlocking didn’t catch Anna’s attention so by the time Elsa finished wrestling the bags of food that littered her arms, she walked into the apartment and spotted Anna still in her dazed expression. She still held her cup of, now, cold cocoa and Elsa could tell from the way Anna’s hair looked dull rather than vibrant, that she hadn’t taken a shower yet. 

“Anna, are you okay sweetie?” 

“Hm?” Anna’s glazed over blue eyes averted to where the sound of Elsa’s voice came from. She could barely focus on her sister as her thoughts remained in the past for a few seconds longer. 

“I said, are you okay?” 

As the elder woman set the bags down, she started to get a bit worried and slowly made her way over to her sister.

“Oh! Elsa!” 

She then jumped when Anna exclaimed out of nowhere. Her eyes wide and hands held out as if she were trying to calm Anna down if need be. 

“Hi there,” 

“You’re home.” 

“I am, yes. Are you okay?”

Anna giggled and raised her mug to her lips. Elsa’s left brow cocks when the younger girl sputters out the cold beverage before wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. “That’s cold.” 

Elsa snorted into her shoulder as she turned her head. “I am okay, but now I need a new cup of cocoa.” 

Elsa stepped in front of the other girl and held her hand out to press into her chest. “Aht aht! You didn’t take the bath I told you to take. Did you get my note?” 

“Yes, and I didn't take one because I was waiting for you to get home.” Anna answered. She pressed her chest against Elsa's hand before offering her a little pout. 

“We-well….um,” Elsa swallowed as she looked down at how Anna kept pressing into her hand before locking her gaze with her sister again only to remove her hand from her chest. “...how about you go get the bath started and then I’ll make us another round of hot cocoa.” 

If Anna was a golden retriever, then her ears would have perked up so far and her tail would be wagging the mail off the table near where she stood. 

“And then I'll join you. Sound fair?” 

“Okay!” 

And that was the last Elsa saw of Anna until she followed her moments later for a comfortable soak. 

Of course, Elsa took the time to put the groceries away. Which took a bit longer than she would have liked? But she was able to start the hot cocoa in between so she would have it done by the time she was done stocking their cabinets. 

“Elsa! ~” 

The sing-song tone Anna held made Elsa shiver as she grabbed both mugs and slowly made her way into their room. She didn’t answer until she got in the bathroom and slowly placed the mugs down on the counter close to the tub. Anna was submerged under white bubbles that looked almost like snow. 

“I’m right here, silly.” 

Anna’s response was to flick soap at her, but it landed on the edge of the tub instead. Else just rolled her eyes good-heartedly and began to strip out of her clothes. She was grateful to the way the heat from the tub filled the room, she may love the cold, but she was still human and she absolutely loved getting warm after a day out in the blistering cold. 

Once she was tub-worthy, Anna moved forward so Elsa could slip in behind her. Both girls made a noise of surprise while Elsa slipped in. Anna, because Elsa’s cold feet and legs slide along her thighs before quickly getting warm from the water. And Elsa, because of the temperature of the water. 

After Elsa got comfortable and was able to lean back against the wall opposite the faucet, Anna leaned back so she could rest on her sister's chest. But she was quick to pull away and look at Elsa. 

“What?” Elsa asked just as she tilted her head to give the younger woman a confused look. 

Anna huffed and cupped her hands to grab some water before pouring it onto pale breasts. “Your nipples were cold.” she muttered. 

Once Anna was satisfied, she turned back around and reclaimed her sister's chest.

“OW!” 

Anna felt a sharp pinch to her left hip and jolted in the water before shooting a pout over her shoulder at her smirking sister. “Elsa?!” 

“Don’t be crude.” 

“Well don’t be such a prude.” 

Elsa pinched Anna again, who just whined before sinking under the water till her head didn’t show. She stayed like that for a few seconds longer than Elsa would have liked. Only to re-emerge with soap and water clung to her red hair. The eldest of the two leaned in and started to wipe the soapy water from Anna’s face only to grab her by the hip and pull her in to rest back against her chest like before. 

They stayed like that, in silence with Anna’s head rested back on Elsa’s left shoulder with her eyes closed. Elsa tilted her head to let her lips press to Anna’s temple with her arms wrapped around her small waist. 

~~~

The bath had taken a whole hour of their afternoon. But eventually the water started to get cold, and the girls were getting hungry. So, they found themselves in mid-prep for their late lunch/early dinner of the day. 

They both decided on chicken alfredo. Elsa seared the four chicken breasts in a skillet while Anna prepared the noodle water. After she got the water on the stove, Anna started to cut up some mozzarella and then grate the rest of it. Music played in the background and Elsa watched from the corner of her eye. She smiled to herself when she saw Anna sing into the end of the knife, she held like it was a microphone. She also still had her hair wrapped up in a white towel from earlier. Elsa had braided hers and let it rest on one side of her shoulder. 

It was moments like these that let Elsa know she really loved her sister. Loved how goofy and wild she could be. After an hour of cuddling and now she had so much energy that she wasn’t sure what she wanted to do with it. So, Anna danced and sang. Eventually though, Elsa started to chime in. She really couldn’t help it considering how contagious Anna was when she was happy. 

The food had come together quite nicely. Elsa had let Anna make the sauce since she knew what the recipe had said without looking it up. This gave Elsa the chance to cut the chicken breasts up into thick slivers. It looked like she grilled it which gave the pasta more personality once it was mixed. 

After the sauce, noodles and chicken were combined, the girls sat down in the living room with a plate each filled and two garlic breads each on the sides. Anna chose iced sweet tea while Elsa chose iced water. 

A movie was selected between the two. ‘13 Going On 30’, and then after it’d be ‘There’s Something About Mary.’ Anna chose the former while Elsa chose the latter. Each movie was just as funny as the last in their own way, so the rest of the afternoon and evening was spent in quiet laughs and soft singing when a song popped on that both girls knew. 

Eventually, Anna found Elsa resting her head in her lap as she dozed off near the end of her movie. This was the moment, and many like it from past Sundays, where Anna realized she honestly loved her sister. She happily gazed at her sister as she combed her fingers through her silk like white hair. 

But Monday came early and both girls had a class/shift early in the morning. So, with little to no effort, Anna maneuvered her slumbering sister onto her back for a piggyback ride. She always thought this was easier for both, so she didn’t drop Elsa like she had last time. 

She set Elsa on the bed once they got in their room and let her fall back onto the half-made bed. Anna pulled the covers back and coaxed Elsa’s half-asleep body into a sitting position. 

“Elsaaaa.~” Anna sung softly as she supported a wobbly girl. 

“Hmmmmm”

“Let’s go brush our teeth and then we can head to bed.” 

Elsa stopped wobbling to instead rub her eyes. “Buh…the foods..” 

“Already stowed away. Tv is off and the door is locked. I checked it three times.” 

Elsa lifted her head up, eyes still shut, and then smiled with a pleased hum. “Good girl.” 

Anna freezes on the spot before blushing and looking away from her older sister. She was finally able to get Elsa in the bathroom where they both brushed their teeth at a slow pace. Once the brushing was done, they flossed then gargled mouthwash.

“Teeth/” Elsa demanded tiredly. She watched Anna smile at her, all teeth. Not a single piece of food in place. But they were pearly white. 

“Teefers.” Anna chirped and smiled when Elsa’s teeth looked the same as hers which Anna told her so before reaching over to switch the light off. 

They slipped into their respected spots like every night and took the time to plug in their phones, set their alarms and turned off their side lamps. And just like two perfect puzzle pieces, the girls connected. Anna acted as a somewhat big spoon as she curled around Elsa. Their legs locking together while Anna pulled Elsa’s head against her chest. And within the hour both girls succumbed to sleep. The once lit room is shrouded in darkness as the room gets quiet and a single strip of moon light pours onto the ground through the window. 

If you look close enough, you could see through the window as the stars litter the black sky above the rooftops of the buildings, the moon high in the sky and casting a soft glow. Just as much of a beautiful sight as when you get to see a sunset or sunrise. It was the perfect view to a perfect day.

#elsanna #april 2022 contest #prompt: home #submission