#Elegant Clothes for Larger Ladies

[classyclothingandmore]

A boutique apparel store is the ideal alternative for you if you are searching for the most fashionable options and outfits accessible together with excellent customer service. In addition to unique products that are exclusive to these establishments, you may receive individualized attention at Boutique for Women's Clothing Nashville to ensure that you consistently appear your best as well as stand distinguished from the crowd.

#Boutique for Women's Clothing Nashville #Designer Statement Jewelry #Elegant Clothes for Larger Ladies

[jooshergoober]

Silence of Voices

𖤐 Peeta Mellark x Reader

On the 74th Annual Hunger Games reaping day, District 12 gets another tribute taken in. That person is you, yet are you really ready?

I haven’t seen any peeta fics where the reader is a badass and where the reader doesn’t take the place of katniss so here you go ^_^

[masterlist] | [next]

1.

Reaping day started no differently. Trying to spend your possible last moments before getting your name picked to kill or be killed for the sake of their entertainment.

Walking through the hellhole called district 12 was nothing special. Perhaps you couldn't say anything because you had no one, wow what a way to put that. Yet, having no one means that you had nothing to lose, that is, if you were reaped.

You walked past the silence of people, making your way to your makeshift home. You had only started to properly live in it to avoid talking to anyone. Everyone can go die, you thought, but was it worth it?

Living until your twelve and putting your name into the raffle just to be picked off to die. District 12 has no chance of winning, but maybe you would be picked and get sent off to your misery.

You were always alone, your stoic persona led people away from you. Not that you minded, obviously, you wanted to avoid contact with anyone ever since the passing of your parents. Not bothering to pay attention to the outdoor distractions, you looked through a crappy drawer that contained a limited amount of clothing, yet it still worked its purpose. You took out the light blue dress and scoffed at its color.

Instead, you stripped from your original clothes, and put on the ‘pretty’ dress. The dress went to your knees, with a soft pattern of trills on the bottom of it. You kept your hair down, not bothering to put it up or make a good appearance. You knew you weren’t going to get picked, your name has been put in it for years.

After keeping your worn shoes, the reaping alarm was heard, telling the people of district 12 that it was time for the annual reaping day.

You only let out a small sigh and began to leave your makeshift house, looking at it one more time, before turning away and walking towards the reaping ceremony.

Walking in, the crowd is getting larger and larger, you being one of them. As you were walking, you noticed a girl around your age, 16, consoling a younger girl, most likely her first time. Shaking your head, you pushed past and got into the line. You stuck your hand out for them, pricking your finger and pushing the wound against the paper.

[ (reader) (lastname) ]

The machine read, before you turned and got into the separated groups. You felt bad for whoever was to be chosen, it puts a lot of pressure, you thought.

After everyone was finally registered, you stood in your place, watching as individuals dressed in smooth suits and fancy clothing walked out, taking their seats to enjoy the show. The tall microphone in the middle was empty, before a woman dressed in magenta and elegant clothing. She tapped the microphone before speaking, a smile on her face.

“Welcome, Welcome, Welcome.” Her bright voice rang out for all to hear. Her dark eyes scanned the crowds as she smiled.

“Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds ever be in your favor.” She gave a nod, which made you want to gag.

Having to hear her voice another year was extremely annoying, yet you thanked her for never pulling your name out.

“Now before we begin—“ she started, but you couldn't care less. You ignored the sound of her voice and watched the video appear on the screen with a blank look. The capitol could die, especially the president.

You couldn’t care who died, especially if it was the president. Maybe if he died, the hunger games would stop.

Only hearing the muffled voice of the president and you took your time to look around you, glaring at the peacekeepers that were located near you.

“—As usual, ladies first..” the woman said slowly, taking small steps towards the container that held your name in it and plenty of others. You only bothered to pay attention now, but you stared at her hand as she grabbed a piece of paper with someone's name on it.

She moved back to the microphone and opened the paper, opening her mouth to say the sacrificed lamb.

“Primrose Everdeen.”

You only stood there as you watched the young, blonde, and scared girl walk slowly and away from the people near her, the woman edging her to come onto the stage. You recognized her as the scared girl, how unfortunate that her first day she gets reaped.

You watched silently as the other girl, whom you saw comforting her prior to the reaping, stepped out and called her name.

That caused the peacekeepers to hold her back before the words came out of her mouth.

“I volunteer! I volunteer!” As she pushed the guards away from her and finally with a calm voice saying, “I volunteer as tribute.”

Your eyes widened at her actions, wondering how crazy she was for sacrificing her own life for a kid that would go through this again.

Apparently, this also shocked the woman on the stage as she urged the volunteer to come up instead.

When she finally arrived onto the stage, with a hint of hesitance, she now stood next to the woman.

“What's your name?” The colorful lady asked, looking at the first ever volunteer.

“Katniss Everdeen.” She said quickly.

You now know why she did that. She did it to save her sister. Was it really worth it? Then again, could you really say anything.

You drowned out their voices yet only stood to watch them. You noticed the people around you did that hand sign again. You brought your index, middle, and ring finger to your lips and held it up, along with everyone else. You brought your hand back down as you watched the white haired woman make her way to the boy’s selection container.

She put her hand in, again, and grabbed a paper. She made her way back to the microphone and opened the paper, saying the name loudly.

“Peeta Mellark.”

You turned your head to where everyone else was looking. The boy you saw made you pause. His face, mouth opened as the light in his eyes slowly disappeared hearing his name.

You could only watch with silent eyes as the boys around him moved away, giving him space to walk towards the stage. He made small steps and was finally on the stage.

“Before we.. conclude our tributes.” She paused for a second before smiling.

“There was an anonymous voting, and district 12 was chosen for having an extra tribute.” She smiled sweetly and looked at a peacekeeper and nodded.

Two peacekeepers brought a smaller bowl of names, and it was held in front of her while everyone looked at each other in fear.

“Twenty people were nominated to be the extra tribute, and will be determined right now.” She gave a nod and put her hand in, quickly grabbing one and opening it. The peacekeepers holding the container pulled away and stepped aside.

“(reader) (lastname).” Her voice broke you from your trance. Your eyes widen as you look at the woman in shock. She beckoned you onto the stage and you only stood frozen in your spot, watching as the girls around you only stared at you.

You finally began to move your feet, quickly moving onto the stage and standing next to the boy, Peeta, you think that was his name.

“Now, let’s give an applause for our 3 tributes, from district 12!”

She motioned for them to shake hands, and you only stood to the side, not wanting to interact with the two. They stare awkwardly at each other as the woman gives one last statement.

“Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor.” She smiled as she put her hands on the first two tributes shoulders and pulled them with her, you following behind quietly. The doors closing behind all of you.

#peeta mellark x reader #josh hutcherson #peeta mellark #josh hutcherson x reader

[marzipanandminutiae]

she's never going to read this, but it's still interesting

so the person with the extremely cold corset takes last night has now decided that dress history folks are straight-up lying about the purpose of corsets. because we just love them so much, I guess?

she found this ad:

and therefore knows corsets were Totally About Waist Reduction First And Foremost, Always And Forever, Amen

I have. some thoughts.

the main one being that nobody claimed corsets were never used to waist-train back then

the secondary one being that many ads for "form-reducing corsets," at least the ones that I found, make a distinction between "normal" corsets and their product:

It's a specialty product, not what the average woman is wearing on a daily basis. Is its existence messed up? Yes! But nobody has been disputing that pressure on women to look a certain way, and fatphobia, are awful. The issue in question is: was the primary function of an average (in this case Victorian/Edwardian) corset waist reduction? It seems to me that the ad supplied- again, for a specialty garment that was not seen as an ordinary corset -does not prove OP's point.

so let's look at some ordinary corset ads, shall we?

(don't freak out too much about the "baby/child corsets"- I've worked with extant examples many times, and they're just lightly stiffened vests. you couldn't lace a kid down in them if you tried- not that you should, obviously)

(Pliability, elasticity, comfort- but no mention of waist reduction as a selling point)

(this one is an unusual design, but I'm including it because it mentions support- and specifically breast support -not once, but twice. It also instructs ladies to measure their waists OUTSIDE their clothing- which will result in a larger measure even than we commonly use for custom corsets nowadays. note that a 2" lacing gap was common, per a corsetiere quoted in Valerie Steele's The Corset: A Cultural History)

(Flexibility and comfort, yet again.)

(Rather a ridiculous one, including the implication that you need an elegant corset to snare a husband and therefore economic security and love, but the bottom left text says "What an improvement the Madam Warren corset. And how comfortable.")

so we've clearly got comfort, support, and ease of movement at the forefront of the average consumer's mind, for so many ads to mention such thing. a number also don't have much text at all:

(The Celebrated EEE is my hypothetical burlesque name, but I digress.)

of the first twenty random ads that come up when I do an image search for "corset advertisement," eleven mention health and/or comfort, and only one directly mentions waist reduction- while advertising, again, a separate specialty "reducing" corset.

am I saying it never happened? absolutely not. I have NEVER been saying that. tightlacing did happen. obviously reducing corsets existed. I would not deny any of this

am I saying that, clearly, support and comfort were thought so high on the average corset-wearer's priority list that manufacturers played to those attributes more than waist reduction when constructing/advertising corsets, implying that they are NOT, in fact, the same thing as a Kim K waist cincher? yes

(file under: things I cannot believe I have to fucking say, and yet here we are)

#corsets #long post #fatphobia mention #body issues tw #corset discourse #genuinely can't fathom how 'are historical corsets just as-seen-on-TV waist trainers' is a real question here

[koneko-pi]

Hi I really like your writing. It captures fuegoleon's character so well

Can I request for Fuegoleon with wife s/o who gets rill to make a a family portrait of them along with Leopold and marroleona and she hangs it up and shows fue when he comes back home? Fue sees there's a weird little space/blank spot between him and s/o and asks about it and s/o tells him that she's pregnant and once the baby is born, rill will add it in?

I thought this would be a really cute way to break it to fue that he's going to be a dad🥰

I think these Pregnancy reveal fics have been my favorite to write so far lol thank you for asking for another one!!

Fuegoleon x female reader

Innocent headcannons

1250 wordcount

Family Portrait

You were extra giddy that day as you quickly carried something down the halls of the Vermillion family Manor. This "something" was not an item easily recognized, as most of the maids and butlers craned their heads to watch you go, all they saw was a large white cloth in the vague shape of a rectangle nearly the size of your body.

And you wouldn't let anyone touch it, even-

"Please, allow me my lady-" One young man reached out kindly to you.

"Thank you, but I got it!" You quickly danced around him and then went on your merry way.

-when they tried to help.

The people present watched you excitedly round the corner before glancing at one another.

"Wonder what that was about…?"

"Is she heading for lord Vermillion's office?"

"But he isn't home right now…"

And you were well aware of that. In fact, you had specifically planned it this way. You wanted it to be a surprise when he came home from work, and that means setting it up quickly beforehand. You giggled to yourself as you used your spare key to open up the doors to his office, slip inside and relock it.

You glanced around, as if to really make sure you were all alone, and once you confirmed the coast to be clear you took your precious item and leaned it up against the desk. With a wide smile and a flurry of your hand you snatched the cloth away to reveal a simple frame housing a detailed painting.

"It looks so good!" You could hardly contain your excitement. As you moved around the room to pick a good place to hang it up you thought back why you requested such an item.

Rill had been more than excited to do the painting for you. Especially after you told him why you needed it. He worked with you for days, constant back and forth contact to make sure every detail was perfect, from the clothing everyone wore to the expression of Mereoleona.

Rill had told you he was so excited to finish it he barely got any sleep, and for a brief moment you worried about his squad with a sleep deprived captain. But that feeling had quickly been squashed by pure excitement after he presented the finished product to you.

And with it now on the wall, above the couch by the door, you had to admire Rill's handiwork all over again.

It was a family portrait, painted on a canvas so large you could hide behind it if you crouched down low enough. You weren't one for such a large and flashy style (momentarily your mind drifted to the unnecessarily large image of Acier Silva that was the first thing anyone saw when walking into their home.) But with how many people were present in the painting, Rill said it would unfortunately have to be on the larger side.

It pictured the whole Vermillion family, with you and Fuegoleon right in the front, seated facing one another on a couch. Behind you was Leopold, with a hand on the back of the couch, looking like a dashing young man. And behind Fuegoleon was Mereoleona, with her staple grin, but Rill was kind enough to make it look less crazed and more cocky. It was better than nothing.

He had offered you a few samples of her with something more calm and normal. But it just didn't look right, infact it was almost creepy. This was much better in your eyes.

You and Fuegoleon looked elegant, happy smiles and loving eyes. Between you though was an empty space, and it wouldn't look quite so out of place if the two of you weren't positioned as if you were holding something. With your body leaning forward slightly and arms up, Fuegoleon's hand resting on your elbow to help support it. It looked more bizarre the longer you stared, and a small anxiety built up in you.

'What if he doesn't like it?' Were the thoughts slowly creeping their way into your mind.

But you quickly reminded yourself why you got this painting made at all and all of the excitement rushed back. You couldn't wait till he came home, and since you times it as well as you did, glancing at the clock yo check the time-

The door suddenly clicked as the lock tumbled open and Fuegoleon pushed on the door. He was barely inside when he noticed you standing there and his eyes went wide.

"My love!" He greeted you with pleasant surprise, wasting no time to close the door behind him and walk over to embrace you.

"Hello, Fuego!" You greeted him back. "Did you have a good day?"

"I did." He pulled back so he could look down into your face. "Though it's better now that you're here. I wasn't expecting this."

"I wanted to surprise you." You let out a giggle as you hugged him tightly. You wanted to hold onto his pleasant warmth a little longer before showing him his gift, which was currently to his back.

"I can see that. Some of the servants were telling me how excited you looked today?"

The moment of truth was slowly coming and your stomach was starting to bubble up. Like a child the night before their birthday.

"I was eager to set something up." You pulled back and you watched Fuegoleon give the smallest tilt of his head.

"Oh, what was it?"

You grabbed his arm and gently turned him around so he could face the painting.

"Oh-!" He tensed slightly in surprise. You could easily picture his wide eyes and slightly slack jaw as he stared at it. Taking in all of its details. You felt his shoulders relax and let him pull away to walk towards it so he could see it up close.

"My love, where did you get this?"

"Rill made it~" You grinned behind him.

"Rill did? I always knew he was talented but…"

"But?"

"Well lets just say, most of his paintings I've seen myself were magic related."

Ahh, you've only witnessed Rills magic a couple of times, but you agree with Fuegoleon that it could be abstract at times. The harpy woman was still an oddly vivid memory for you.

"But, my love…"

You quickly snapped back to the present. Nearly bouncing on your heels now.

"What's this empty space, are you supposed to be holding something?"

The moment of truth….

"Well that, my dearest~" you slid right next to him, wrapping one arm around his and leaning your head against his shoulder. "That is for our baby. But it's not here yet, so I had Rill leave the space empty."

It took Fuegoleon no time to pick up on your words.

"Baby?" His head snapped down to look at you with wide eyes. And you tilted your head back to look up at him, a big smile on your face with all of your built up happiness.

"That's right, our baby."

His mouth opened and closed a few times as if he was trying to get his thoughts straight enough to think. But actions speak louder than words, and so he snatched you up in a big hug, burying his face against you as you gleefully laughed.

"Congratulations. Dad to be~" you laughed.

"Congratulations to us!" He began to laugh with you, whole he spun you around and danced around the room, the pair of you on cloud nine.

Please pardon any Typos, and thank you for reading!

#black clover #fuegoleon vermillion #fuegoleon x reader #black clover x reader #x reader #reader insert #black clover fanfic #black clover fanfiction

[tinywitchdraws]

The Survivors of House Harkonnen

Part 1

Part 2/? : A Friendly Game

Summary:

Aria plays a game with Feyd and learns more than she bargained for.

---

“He’s late.” Aria muttered to herself, wandering around the sleek master drawing room of the Harkonnen ship. It was a beautiful ship- all black shiny metal flowing over steel and white marble. The room alone was larger that the entire ship that her family hand taken to Arrakis. 

The Harkonnens were divided into little cliques- circles of three or more discussing strategies and politics to prepare for their arrival on Geidi Prime. Their voices all dimmed as she moved closer. No one spoke to her, or even looked at her. Her fate was still an uncertain one- and no one wanted to be involved. Finally, she stood next to the grand marble chess table in the middle of the room and resigned herself to life as a good little outcast.

And then Feyd-Rautha sat down across from her. “I’ll play a game with you, while we wait.” He offered casually. Aria considered the proposition carefully as she watched Feyd-Rautha lean back and stare at the ceiling. Maybe this was a trap, or maybe he was just as bored as she was. If he wanted to toy with her, she wouldn’t let him do it for free.

“I want stakes.” Aria said at last, “If I win, you train me to fight.” 

“If I win, I can keep the knife you made for me.” Feyd said, his tone serious. Those hard, grey Harkonnen eyes glinted with malice as he said, “I won’t go easy on you, Atreides.”

“Don’t.” Aria said gruffly as she sat down to the table. 

“Confident.” Feyd-Rautha smirked, “And stubborn. Interesting.” He gestured to the black marble board in front of her. “Ladies first.”

Aria surveyed the board. She hadn’t played the game in at least three years- probably more, since her mother had long since given up on training her in the art of cunning. Her brother was better at it than her. Of course, she couldn’t ask him for help. She pushed the thought aside and focused on the board. Feyd was clearly a practiced player, so it didn’t matter if she picked a well-worn tactic for the game- if anything, he was expecting it. She couldn’t win against him with an elegant game. No, she would make this a game of chicken. She started out strong and kept pushing. King stretched as far as she could dare across the board. First, Feyd seemed amused at her boldness. As time progressed Feyd’s intensity increased. His brow furrowed, grey eyes darting obsessively across the board- searching, panicked. 

“Checkmate.” Aria said, as soon as she spotted it. She kept her eyes low, but she caught a glimpse of Feyd’s face darkening.

He got up immediately and began to pace. Feyd muttered something in an unintelligible language, but she knew they were swear words. Aria started to reset the board. “What else do you want?” He snapped at last.

“Me?” Aria balked, watching Feyd unravel.

“Yes, you.” He sighed angrily, “You won. What do you want for it?”

“I already got what I want.” Aria blinked, “There aren’t stakes anymore.”

“There are always stakes!” Feyd groaned as he sat down and began to hurriedly reset the board, “Were you raised in a barn?”

“No.” Aria said.

“Fine.” Feyd rasped, his tone exhausted, “Best two of three. What stakes do you want?”

Aria thought for a moment, examining the barely contained anguish in Feyds eyes. “Is this what life is like for him? He’s never been able to play a game without stakes?” She thought, and concluded that the answer was yes. He would not accept a friendly game as an excuse, it probably wasn’t even conceivable to him.

“Fine.” She said at last, “I want clothes.”

“What?” Feyd asked, his eyes wide.

“I don’t have any.” Aria said. “You got rid of my stilsuit. What stakes do you want?”

“I want to beat you at chess.” Feyd said. His eyes met hers and noted her shock at just how low his stakes were, “I don’t like losing. Sets a bad precedent.” He muttered as he sat back in his chair, chewing at his knuckles. A nervous habit of his. His strategy was different, more cautious but more willing to sacrifice smaller pieces, knowing that one right move could end things.

Aria pretended to be cautious at first, setting up her pieces just so, and then aggressively began taking piece after piece from him. She wore him out across the board until finally-

“Checkmate.” She said with a smile, “You still want that third game?”

“Of course.” Feyd replied as he began resetting the board, and then got up suddenly. There was a dull whirr as the Baron entered, trailed by the machines that sustained his weight.

His round face soured as he spotted Feyd. “Do I employ you to play games, Nephew?”

“No, Uncle.” Feyd said firmly, hands clasped behind him.

“Correct.” Cautioned the Baron, “We have much to discuss. Ah, and here you’ve brought my desert rat. Good, very good.”

“Welcome, Baron Harkonnen.” Aria replied with an awkward curtsy, her eyes low.

“Ugh.” The Baron rolled his eyes, “Don’t patronize me. If I could, you would be confined to the dungeon with your mother, however…diplomacy has rules.” The Baron lowered himself into place at the head of the table as the ship began to hum. “Now, then. Enough games.”

Aria felt her stomach drop as the ship lifted into the air. She had naturally assumed that she would be at the mercy of Feyd-Rautha, but the tension in his pale jaw as he looked at his Uncle made her heart stutter.

 At that moment, Aria Atreides knew that she would come to fear the Baron. 

---

Thank you for all of your support, tagging:

@baronvladimirharkonnen @avidreader73 @thenatallie @immortan-valkyrie @harkonnin @therealslimshady-1 @mamawiggers1980 @skythighs @kristel1990 @thefartheststars @vguebliss @witchymoonbabe

This is a shorter chapter, but next chapter will be a poV switch. From there, things will quickly become more eventful

#feyd rautha #feyd x oc #fanfic #feyd rautha harkonnen #dune 2

[theladyofdeath]

Lady Death's Lover {II}

Lady Death's Lover Masterlist & Summary

19th Century Period AU Nesta x Cassian Secret Affair / Enemies to Lovers / Forbidden Romance Fanfiction / Characters from Sarah J Maas / ACOTAR Based on a prompt sent in by anonymous

A/N: I'm sorry I waited until, like, midnight to post this. As the school year approaches, I find myself in a constant state of panic and stress. Haha. Anyways, thank you for reading the prologue and chapter 1! I love seeing your feedback. This chapter is fairly light in the way of trigger warnings, but as always, know that this story contains the following. Thank you for reading! x

TW: marital abuse, sexual content, language, depression, alcohol abuse

This story is for readers 18+. Mature readers only. Content should not be read by anyone under 18.

Nesta

The gown I’m wearing cost more than what my sisters, father, and I spent in a year on clothing only a few years ago. It’s a stunning deep blue that brings out my eyes. The skirt is full and the bodice is laced in beads that sparkle when they hit the light. A braid crowns my head and the bruise has faded on my cheek enough that the powder covers it. 

I wait in the foyer for Tomas who seems to be taking his sweet time. It takes a certain level of disrespect to keep someone waiting for an extended period of time, but it’s the least of the cruelties that my husband inflicts upon me. 

Just when I’m ready to board the carriage alone, Tomas comes down the grand staircase dressed in his finest. He is handsome, only a few years older than myself. He’s wearing his full evening dress, and even I, who loathes him, has to admit that he looks fine in tails. I hate it, hate that he’s handsome, hate that I have to hang on his arm all evening instead of gracing the dance floor. 

The carriage ride is silent. We sit on opposite benches, facing one another. We’ve nearly reached our destination by the time he speaks.

“How was your afternoon?”

His words are so sudden that it makes me jump. I clear my throat. “Fine, I suppose. I went to the dressmaker and had tea with Gwyn and Emerie.”

He cringes at the informal use of my closest friends’ names. I rarely see them and know that Tomas disapproves, even if he’s never said it outright. “Lovely, dear.”

I do not progress the conversation, I simply let it drop and stare out the window once more. 

When the coach stops, we are sitting in front of a grand townhouse. It’s massive, larger than our own home in town. I’ve not been here before nor do I know the owner. It’s one of Tomas’ many business partners, the names of whom I don’t bother to memorize. 

Nonetheless, the home we enter is beautiful. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen and I’m mesmerized as I cross the threshold. 

Everything is black, but it is elegant. Among the dark interior, there are paintings of the night sky, murals on the ceiling of the famous starlight of Velaris. White roses are strung throughout the hall, the stark petals leading to the ballroom, where people are gathered and a string quartet plays. 

“Beautiful,” I breathe, allowing myself to be dragged by Tomas.

“Hmm? Oh, yes.” It’s clear he’s not paying attention to me, but right now I don’t mind. “Chin up. Back straight. Don’t speak unless you’ve been asked a direct question. Think wisely about your answers before you voice them.”

I don’t respond. A sudden, familiar emptiness fills my core.

We round the ballroom until we’re gathered with a herd of people I don’t know but Tomas seems to. My arm remains looped through his and I smile, completely charmed, as voices surround us. The conversation is nothing more than muddled noise that I ignore as my eyes scan my surroundings. I watch as gentlemen ask the young ladies of Velaris to dance. I watch as they take to the floor and follow the commonly known steps while the music plays jovially from the platform near the corner. 

I envy them. I used to love to dance, used to come alive as the music played. Even now, I feel it in my bones while the quartet plays and I feel nothing but dread as I remain perfectly still, side by side with my husband. I don’t show it, though. The smile remains plastered on my face and I nod politely as each new person is introduced to me.

“Care for a smoke, Mandray?” 

Tomas looks at me and frowns, but I smile politely. “Don’t worry about me, my dear. I’ll get a drink and stand with the other married ladies.” 

He thinks for a minute, but then he nods and his arm slips from mine, giving me a sudden sense of freedom. I know he doesn't like leaving me alone in a room full of people but to decline an offer would speak of a weakness in both our marriage and his manhood, so he leaves me be. 

True to my word, I walk toward the refreshments table and grab a filled champagne flute. The bubbles tickle going down my throat and I can’t help my foot as it begins to tap along with the tune. 

“Lovely, isn’t it?”

I spin around, nearly flinging the fillings of my glass over the rim as I do so. A man stands behind me, tall and broad-shouldered, smiling kindly. His hair is long, which I find ridiculous, even if it’s pulled back neatly at the nape of his neck. He’s handsome, but not as a gentleman should be. He looks as if he should be working by the docks or in a lumber yard, perhaps in the mines. He looks more like a man that would live in my old village, not a member of high society. 

“The music?” I ask, and he nods. “Yes. Beautiful.”

I turn away from him, back towards the quartet. I watch as they expertly handle their instruments. 

“Would you care to dance?” 

My back stiffens as I turn to face my intruder once more. “Pardon?”

“Dance?” he asks, and his hazel eyes are lit with humor. “You know…what they’re all doing out there. Having fun.” 

Fun.

That was a word I haven’t heard in a long while, a word I haven’t felt. The offer is tempting and part of me wants to say yes, just to feel alive for a few minutes. 

“I’m married,” I say, simply.

He stares at me. Blinks. “And?”

My brows, I swear, shoot up into my hairline. “And…that means I cannot dance with you.” 

“Does it?” he asks, and a stupid, cocky little grin lifts the side of his mouth. “I don’t recall reading that in the rulebook.”

Knowing full well there isn’t a rule book, I feel my eyes narrow. “You, sir, are awfully inappropriate.”

“It is not inappropriate to ask a Lady to dance.”

“But it is to ask a married woman. Now, if you’ll excuse me, Mr…”

“Nazari. Lord Cassian—”

“Yes, well, thank you for the offer but I obviously must decline.” I hand my half-emptied glass to a passing server and go to step around Lord Cassian. 

He steps in front of me. “I did not catch your name.”

“My name is not yours to know,” I say, and try to step around him yet again.

He follows me once more. “Please do not make me endure the rest of the night without us being properly introduced.”

I take a deep breath, trying my best to keep my cool. “Lady Mandray.” 

That cocky smile of his fades, and he’s left staring at me looking completely unsettled. “You’re married to Tomas Mandray?”

“I am,” I say, the words feeling hollow as they leave me. 

He nods and bows his head. “Very well. I apologize for the disruption of your evening. Enjoy the music.”

Before I can reply, he’s hurrying far away from me. It seems my husband has the same effect on strangers that he does on me. 

His reaction makes me think a little better of the man I just met, as awful as that may seem.

I do not join the other married women. They don’t seem to like me all that much and I honestly don’t care for them. The conversations are meaningless and I don’t care to answer over and over again how soon we’ll be having children. I wish Emerie and Gwyn were here. Although they’re at some of the events that I’m dragged to, they rarely come to the balls. They are not married nor are they looking for husbands, claiming and content to be spinsters, but that is what drew me to them in the first place, their freedom even in society. 

So I stand here, close to the refreshments even though I’ve given up my glass. I watch young gentlemen and ladies dance, watch as they smile and laugh and move freely to the music. And I can’t help when my eyes find Lord Cassian as he speaks with another young lady across the hall. His body is so relaxed, his smile so easy, and I loathe him for that.

Jealousy is a bitch and it’s all I seem to be feeling tonight. Jealousy, and loneliness.

…….

Cassian 

“Would you like me to introduce you to Mandray?” 

My smile falters and I clear my throat. “Of course. Eh, let’s hope that the fact that I tried to charm his wife doesn’t ruin his impression of me.”

Beside me, Azriel snorts. Rhysand’s lips form a tight line. “You hit on his wife?”

“I didn’t know she was his wife,” I mutter, crossing my arms. “I didn’t know she was anyone’s wife. I saw a pretty woman. I asked her to dance.”

Rhysand’s eyes narrow. “Why do I feel that wasn’t the end of the conversation?”

I sip from my champagne.

Pretty isn’t exactly the word I’d use to describe Lady Mandray, but I can’t tell my brothers that she is, by far, the most terrifyingly beautiful woman I have ever crossed paths with. Traditional beauty had been thrown out the window and replaced with a cold, intricate beauty that was unknown to society and the world beyond. The type of beauty that was Lady Mandray could not be replicated. No, I wouldn’t tell them that. That would be inappropriate and although I love the inappropriate most of the time, being inappropriate with the man I’m attempting to invest with to boost my fortune seems to be crossing a line.

“Well, let’s hope his wife remains quiet and no one overheard,” Rhysand says, shaking his head. “It would be just like you to cause a scandal at my event, of all places.” 

“No scandal, just a misunderstanding,” I assure him. At least, I try to. The look in his eye tells me to watch myself for the remainder of the evening. I try not to let that piss me off as I take another drink. 

Just as I’m about to ask Rhys to make the introduction, I see a familiar face out of the corner of my eye and a slow smile spreads across my lips. There’s someone I could have fun with and cause no scandal.

None that hasn’t been spread before, anyway. 

“One dance, then I’ll meet Mandray.” I’m moving before the words are out of my mouth. I move around the outskirts of the dancefloor, tossing my drink aside on the way, until I’m stopping behind a long-legged blonde in a red dress.

I bow. “Miss Morrigan.”

She’s turning, eyes narrowed, before I stand back at full height. “I swear, every time you call me that it makes me hate you just a little bit more.” 

“You don’t hate me.” I grin. “If you hated me, you wouldn’t accept the dance I’m about to offer you and we both know that you can’t say no to a dance with me.” 

With a roll of her eyes, she takes my outstretched hand and we join the other dancers as a quadrille begins. It’s not the best dance for conversation but we seem to carry one anyway without caring about those around us. 

“You’re late,” I say, as the music becomes lively. “I didn’t think you were going to show.”

“Missed me?” she asks with a wink. “You missed tea this past Monday. Maybe I was angry with you.”

We come together and spin around as I ask, “No, I just figured you were holed up with someone you weren’t supposed to be again.”

Her eyes grow bright as we part and the softest shade of pink tinges her cheeks. She looks around to make sure those closest to us didn’t hear, but I know they didn’t. It takes a few seconds for us to come back together, but when she does she says, “No, that was last weekend. Tonight I just felt like arriving late so that everyone would have to look at me as I entered.” 

It worked. It always did. Mor was stunning, beautiful to everyone who looked her way. She took my virginity, and I took hers, when we were teenagers. It was awkward and horrible and I lasted no more than twenty seconds. It took her a long time to convince me that such a horribly awkward experience wasn’t what opened her eyes to realizing that she didn’t like men at all in such a way — a fact that only a few of us know and keep secret in her honor. Me, Azriel, Rhys, our friend Amren. We’ll keep that secret until we no longer walk this earth. 

But, it’s nice to know that she finds someone to spend her time with every now and then. I want to ask about the mystery woman that she spent the weekend with, but it’ll have to wait until Monday’s tea time. 

The dance ends a minute later and we all take our bow, then I’m sweeping her to where Rhysand and Azriel are in deep conversation with a group of young ladies. Mor’s arm loops through mine when I see her. 

Lady Mandray is watching me, and I can tell she’s pissed that I caught her. I offer her a smile, but maybe it comes off a bit too cocky because her pursed lips seem to amplify. She quickly turns on her heels and exits the room, which leaves me confused and strangely aroused. 

Mor catches me looking and leans in closer. “And who is that?”

“The wife of Lord Tomas Mandray,” I answer, my smile fading. “Met earlier tonight. We didn’t hit it off.”

Mor gasps, patting my arm. “Lord Cassian Nazari didn’t instantly sweep a woman off her feet? My, my. You must be getting old.”

I shoot her a look that makes her grin widen, but we say nothing more as we reach our destination. I fall into the chaos that consists of the ladies of Velaris desperately wanting to charm a man into becoming their husbands until we politely dismiss ourselves to find Lord Mandray. 

We find him in a smoke-filled room full of gentlemen and Rhysand makes the introduction. We talk for no more than two minutes before he’s called away, apparently a much sought after man of high society. 

After those two minutes, I deduce two things.

One: investing with him will make me more money in a month than all my tenants combined make me in a year. 

Two: I would hate to be the woman married to that asshole. 

#nessian #nesta #cassian #nesta archeron #cassian x nesta #nesta x cassian #fanfic #fanfiction #sjm #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosf #acofas #period au #19th century au

[cressida-jayoungr]

One Dress a Day Challenge

January: Red Redux

Enola Holmes / Millie Bobby Brown as Enola Holmes

Enola wears this gown while hiding from her brothers in London, guessing (correctly) that the last thing they'll be looking for is an elegant young lady. I'm pretty sure the movie said somewhere that the story takes place in the 1870s, and the costumes do a reasonable job of suggesting that time. You have the larger, softer bustles than the ones seen in the 1880s.

I like the subtle pattern of the cloth, and the ruffled neckline.

#enola holmes #red dresses #millie bobby brown #one dress a day challenge #one dress a week challenge #2020 films #2020 movies #victorian era #victorian style #victorian fashion #victorian costume #1870s style #1870s fashion #red dress #enola holmes movie #enola holmes netflix #movie costumes #period film

[namjoonswaifu]

Jimin's gift

warnings: none

words: 743

Jimin

We all know how much Jimin loves his clothes, his hanboks always matching with his beoseons and shoes, as well as his hat matching the whole outfit. You can’t forget about the gat with the beads matching the whole outfit.

The entire palace knew that Jimin was one of the best-dressed men in the palace, hell, maybe even the kingdom 

So when it came to the gift-giving, he knew he had to do something to do with something he appreciated, clothing, fashion or accessories. 

And anyone who knew him knew that his gift would be something from one of those categories. 

Jimin was extremely excited to give his gifts to the ladies, maybe not as excited as Hoseok had been the day before, but still very excited. Again, he only had 7 gifts, so once he heard about you, he knew what he had to have made for you. And again, to win your favour eventually, he knew he would have to get something that would win your appreciation. So with one of his gifts and a quick talk to the boys who had spent more time with you, and even asking the Queen Dowager about you and her knowledge of you and your best friend. He knew his gift had to be the best he could make it to be. 

“Hello, ladies, I am sure you haven’t met me yet, so let me introduce myself” the elegant-looking man addressed the crowd in front of him. “My name is Park Jimin, the right state councillor,” he says and bows deeply towards you all. “I hope I get the chance to get to know you all a little bit better in your time here” he smiles, and you could almost kid yourself that the man looked directly at you as he said it. And as the other men had done the previous three days, he practically leapt down the stairs towards the guard with the trolley. The same process continued again, the first four ladies receiving a tiny box, although long when lengthways, full of handmade nail polishes in various shades. Then Yeji, who received a coin purse with purple butterflies embroidered onto it, making you feel shocked and happy, remembering the conversation you had with the Queen Dowager and Taehyung about your best friend and how you always called her your butterfly. And once you thought about this, you began to become confused as to why you were receiving better gifts than some of the ladies and how Yeji’s gifts were almost similar to yours. Seol-Hyun and Eun-Bi were next, receiving a similar gift to Yeji of a small embroidered purse, this time no butterflies, just embroidered with a floral pattern. 

And then it was your turn. You received a medium-sized chest with a purple butterfly made of fabric placed on top of the box. You felt a range of emotions all at once, ranging from shock to happiness. Almost too quickly, you opened the box and one of the most beautiful pieces of clothing you had ever seen sat inside. A purple Jeogori sat on the top, decorated in embroidered golden butterflies, the goreum was in a slightly lighter purple colour, accentuating the details of it all. Moving the jeogori to sit next to you, you saw a chima in the same colour as the jeogori. Tears began welling up in your eyes, happiness filling your entire body. It was plain until it reached the bottom where it had the royal seal printed continuously in a row. Moving even further into the chest there was a lilac norigae with a silken butterfly as the main detail, various shades of purple strings hanging down from it. Also in the box was a long thin box, a larger box and a pair of lilac beoseons. Taking the longer box first, you open it, there was a golden cheopji inside with a lilac butterfly made of crystals and small shining jewels engraved into the wings. Placing the delicate object back into the box, you move on to the final box, the tears falling down your face before you even realised that they were. Opening up the larger rectangle box, there was a pair of gomusin’s in the same purple colour. Golden butterflies were embroidered across the shoes, and lilac silk was attached at the front and back of the shoes to prevent blistering. This had to be the best gift you had ever received. 

#park jimin imagine #park jimin #tsotd #the seal of the dragon

[naoyaslut]

The Hills Ch. 17

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Minimal/ageless blogs will be blocked!

pairing: ran haitani x femreader!+18

warnings: profanity

wordcount: 3,858

t@glist: @alice-smutthoughts , @dumbbitchuni-versity, @renxnana, @nemoyr , @baggymcqueen @tojitsukaisen @megumilashtech , @smexyair

"Look at you, you are just glowing!” 

Sivir had been fussing over you for the last hour after inviting you to sit with her and a few other women at one of the oversized tables at the banquet.  One of her hands rested idly on the small rounded bump through the grey gown that you wore.

Placing her champagne glass down on the table she turned to beam at the other women seated at the table as she continued to gush over you.

“Look at her, isn’t she just adorable?”

All the attention you were getting was making you uneasy, your face was hot with embarrassment as everyone seemed to be eager to get their chance to question you about you and your dutiful husband.

“You have to allow me to have a small get-together for you, a baby shower.  You can invite a few of your friends, your family, whoever I’d love to host it.”  Sivir smiled retrieving the crystal champagne glass to take a drink of the rose-colored alcoholic beverage.

To stop her sickly-sweet attention you agreed, you wanted her and her friends to stop giving you so much attention it was unnerving you.  Though you enjoyed Sivir’s company and the way she acted as if she were a mother to you, something about it was strangely inappropriate.

Glancing over your shoulder as she returned to some of her guests, your eyes faintly scouted the room.  You were looking for Ran.  He disappeared with Keishin a while ago after the two dismissed themselves, to talk about... whatever it was that they talked about.  You tried your best to not get into the semantics.

“Excuse me, ladies,” standing from your seat, Sivir saw you off as you retreated from the table.  You needed to find the restroom, at this point your bladder felt as if it were close to bursting. 

Quickly scampering across the large venue, you eyed the patrons coming and going most of them preparing to depart for the night.  The auctions were done and you assumed the donations for the RPD were firmly accounted for by the staff working for the party. 

There was never anyone at these events that you knew, maybe a police officer or two... Kenji had been one of them.  Pushing the disturbing thought to the recesses of your mind, you stepped into one of the larger restrooms on the other side of the building.

It was brightly lit, and outfitted with classic marble and gold trimming.  Rather elegant, you noted before passing two women standing in front of a large gold-framed mirror.  They were going back and forth with one another, one of them had a glass of champagne in her hand, lips painted in the most vibrant red lipstick you had ever seen.

Making your way into a stall quickly, you sighed in relief upon finally being able to relieve yourself.  The loud voices of the women talking were crystal clear, you weren’t attempting to eavesdrop, but you were given a live show without having to even try.

He was the biggest donor again; he has a knack for stealing the show at all these fundraisers.  Even his date was gorgeous, did you see?  Almost as tall as he was.  Blonde hair too, I’d kill to be on his arm for a night.

Finishing up your business in the stall, you fixed your dress and ensured everything was in place before flushing the toilet and unlocking the door.  Washing your hands in silence, you glanced over at the two women, gossiping.  It was mostly what women their age did at events like this.

Mr. Haitani, right?  He is pleasant on the eye, apparently, he’s a great talker as well.  I wonder what else he can do with that mouth.

Turning off the faucet of the sink, you began to dry your hands off on a cloth before depositing the towel into a nearby trash bin.  Leaving the immediate area was first on your priority list.  Listening to... whatever nonsense these women were spouting was beginning to irritate you.

You trusted Ran.  You trusted Ran.  Clicking your tongue defiantly, you left the restroom and made your way back to the immediate center of the building.  Passing through the ballroom your eyes darted from left to right, seeing if you could catch a glimpse of your date.  He had to be done with his business by now.

There was no way that Ran went through all of the trouble of actually proposing to you, the mother of his child, the night before.  Just to do something as foolish as bringing another woman to the same event that he brought you to on the same night.

That’s just downright... stupid.  Stupid.  Until you finally got a glimpse of your knight in shining armor standing at the bar with a very tall, slim, blonde.  Just as the women in the bathroom had described.  Her arm was linked with his, her mouth pressed affectionately at the angular of his sharp jaw.

You stood, confused for a solid three seconds before she pulled away from him, a sugary sweet smile plastered on her lips with obvious stars in her eyes.  Snapping yourself out of your own stupefacient, you glanced nervously from one end of the building to the other.

Something uncomfortable was beginning to bubble within your chest.  You weren’t sure if it was nausea or if it was disgust.  It could have been one and the same.  Your head began to pound as you attempted to pull your thoughts together, perhaps the woman was just an acquaintance.  That had to be it. 

Swallowing your doubts, you made a beeline for the bar set on interrupting the two of them and making your presence known.  The thought of another woman touching him, let alone fondling him as she was caused a bitter taste to blossom at the back of your throat.

Were you being naïve?  You didn’t know, but you were about to find out once at for all what he was up to.  As you drew near, you were able to make out a distinct tattoo on the side of the woman’s neck.  It was a Bonten tattoo, the same one that Ran had on the front of his neck.  The one that was smartly covered by the turtleneck he opted to wear underneath his suit.

He never exposed it when the two of you attended anything like this, but his woman.  She freely flaunted it, with no attempt at covering it with makeup or anything. 

She was a member of Bonten?  Your resolve seemed to crumble the closer you got, your mind going over the possible scenarios that were going to happen once you confronted him.

Would he dismiss you as if it were none of your business?  Your heart hammered against your ribcage once you were at an appropriate distance, clearing your throat as you shot Ran a questioning look.

The woman turned first, her eyebrows drawing up in surprise as a half-smile found its way onto her sultry features.

“Oh, well aren’t you just the cutest thing.” she drawled, her eyes going over your elegant gown and fixing itself on the obvious sign that you were very much expecting a child.

The two of them were no longer intertwined and it seemed that Ran had put a considerable amount of distance between the two of them.  He appeared agitated, his expression softening a bit once he turned to see you standing there.

Ran turned so that he was facing you, leaning down to press an affectionate kiss to your forehead before swiping a stray curl behind your ear.

“I was just on my way to find you, how are you holding up sweetheart?”

You flushed in embarrassment at the prominent display of attentiveness, you felt your stomach twist in dread for thinking negatively otherwise. 

“I’m okay... you were just gone for a while, everyone else is starting to depart,” you replied timidly, your gaze inadvertently finding itself on the blonde who stood rigid as she watched Ran giving you all of his attention.

“We can head out; I needed a drink before we left...” He sneered at the seemingly unwanted guest before drawing his arm around your waist.

The blonde pouted, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear with acrylic nails that were painted in a coat of shiny black nail polish.

“Ran, you’re not going to introduce me to the woman who stole your heart?” she stepped forward, placing both hands on the round of your belly and running her thumbs along the swell of it.  “Whom you so readily put a baby in?  I’m dying to know how you met.”

Ran’s initial movement went unnoticed by you, but his hand had grasped hold of one of the woman’s wrists before pushing her hands away from you.  He clearly did not want her touching you.

“Ivy.” his voice erupted in a low growl; it was almost animalistic.  “Don’t fucking touch her,”

In just an instant, his mood had gone sour, and he was directing you away from the woman and toward the entrance that so many others were using to leave. 

You allowed him to guide you away hesitantly glancing over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of “Ivy”.  She appeared to be livid, her feline-like features twisted up in a scowl.  She clearly wasn’t happy.  Who is she?

Although you wanted to ask who the woman was, you avoided asking the question.  Ran already seemed to be on edge on the drive home.  You weren’t sure if it was because of the woman or if it had something to do with what was discussed with Keishin.

Either way, you weren’t going to find that out.  Ran wasn’t going to share anything with you, it was clear in his stiff body language.

Resting a dainty hand on Ran’s thigh after he passed the highway exit that would take the two of you home.

“You missed our exit,” your gaze went out the window following the exit sign before you glanced back at him in confusion.

Ran acknowledged your announcement by squeezing your hand lightly and sending you a quick glance, followed by a tight smile.

“We’re going to stay in a hotel tonight.”

You didn’t bother to ask why.  He seemed to be in a mood, something was bothering him, but you didn’t want to delve into it right at this moment.

The hotel that the two of you went to appeared to be an expensive one, The Ritz-Carlton.  It was enormous, with over 50 floors of rooms, including pools and gymnasiums.

Ran checked in at the front desk and you overheard him booking the room for an estimated week or so.  Your confusion grew, the longer Ran lingered in your presence clinging to you like an overly attached child. 

He held you tight to his side, eyes searching the lobby of the hotel before the both of you disappeared into the elevator to ride up to the room.  He was obviously on edge and seemed to be going the extra mile to be sure that nothing seemed to be out of the ordinary.

Hooking your free arm around Ran’s, you leaned into him looking up at him as the two of you rode the empty cart up in silence.

“Ran, are you feeling alright?” He had to know that he was acting out of character, normally he was very diligent in hiding his discomfort or agitation.

Meeting your gaze, Ran smiled, his body language softening just the slightest.  With that, he hovered over you a sly grin replacing his stoic expression. 

“Are you worried about me, sweetheart?” he asked as he leaned down to brush his lips against your cheek.

You nodded, because well, you were.  Ran was acting… strange.

“O-of course I am,” your face began to grow warm with embarrassment at his proximity, with his long arm now slung over your shoulder.  “I love you Ran, a lot… and I worry about you.  Nonstop,”

You eyed him seriously but in return, all you got was a blank wide-eyed stare.  He appeared to be taken aback, a long 5 seconds ticking by before he regained his composure.

Startled by his sudden change of demeanor, you stepped away from him trying to make sense of the Cheshire grin he wore a hint of rosiness at his cheeks.

He closed the distance almost immediately pulling you back toward him, causing you to voice a complaint.

“Ran what are yo-”

His lips sealing against yours interrupted your rebuttal, his tongue aggressively swiping toward the back of your throat as if he were trying to swallow you whole.

You relaxed into the sloppy kiss your fists bunching into the fabric of his suit jacket as you became intoxicated by his scent.  He must have been drunk, you thought, but you surely didn’t mind the affection that he had been giving you tonight.

When he pulled away from you were out of breath and the surprise was clearly visible on your face.  Ran swiped his thumb across your bottom lip to wipe away the wetness of the kiss before cradling your cheek in his palm.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

“Any updates?”  Detective Vancouver stood passively across from Naota as they conversed outside of RDP.

“Nothing detriment, though I was able to briefly interview Ms.L/N.” Naota looked about at the passing traffic before giving the FBI agent his attention again.  “I’m expecting her to reach out at some point, or perhaps she won’t.  She had some sort of bodyguard with her and he clearly wasn’t going to allow me to ask her any further questions.”

Vancouver arched a brow in interest whilst fumbling around in his coat pocket.  “Bodyguard huh?  For just an ordinary woman?  Interesting.”

“Digging a little bit into her past, I found something interesting.  Nothing to do with the current case, but If I bring it up I’m sure it will make her want to talk a little more.” Naota shrugged, “Or it may send her running for the hills.”

Vancouver scratched the back of his neck before he pulled out a small notebook where he had jotted down some notes of his own.  He initially wasn’t interested in what Naota had suggested about his case, but he did some digging of his own with the help of his own people.

“Well, you’ll be happy to know that she is more than likely tied to Bonten.  From what my team has observed recently, she is likely involved in a relationship with Ran Haitani.  Haitani is keeping his distance from Bonten as of lately, we can’t tie him to any criminal acts but he’s probably running the legit side of the angle.  He was just spotted at one of the banquets that the police commissioner had.”

Naota’s eyes widened in surprise, his thoughts going back to y/n and the “state” she was in.

“That must be why she has a bodyguard… Imagine Kenji Oh locking Ran Haitani’s girlfriend in a holding cell without probable cause.  Do you think he’d be furious enough to kill Oh?”

Vancouver shook his head before putting away his notebook.  “That’s all speculation, there’s no evidence to support any of that.  You have nothing, Tachibana.”

“I’m just thinking out loud, when I do find something you’ll be first to know.”

“Ran is really serious about this-, child?” Ivy seethed, slamming her fist against the top of the bar so hard that it caused the bottles and glasses littered across it to shake momentarily.

Hanma glared at the woman from the corner of his eye from the sofa he was sitting on.  Ivy had found herself again in his club of all places venting her frustrations to him.  He found it rather obnoxious considering he, personally had been trying to keep his distance from Ran and his playing thing to save his own ass.

At least he’d never find out that he was the one who gave Oh his own address.  That ship had sailed long ago and for now, he was safe.  Hanma pinched the bridge of his nose as Ivy began to complain once more from her seat across the room at the bar.

“He even got her pregnant!  She was wearing an engagement ring!  What the fuck happened while I was locked up?  Don’t men believe in loyalty anymore?!”

“Ivy, for christ's sake…shut the fuck up.”  Hanma stood up crossing the empty room located in the upper room of Tantra before slipping behind the bar to fix himself a drink.  “There’s nothing you can do about this, a man wants what he wants and that sure wasn’t you.”

Ivy scowled in return, it seemed as if her resolve was only strengthening.

“I have to do something about this, Ran was mine first.  He still is.”  Ivy watched Hanma as he poured his glass of scotch before tossing the whole glass back.  “Shuji, you have to help me.”

Hanma poured another small glass of scotch tossing a few ice cubes in after.  He narrowed his eyes before he shook his head.

“I’m out, you’re on your own Ivy.”

Ivy smiled sardonically, before leaning across the bar. 

“Come on Shuji, for old-time sake.  You know I’ll make it worth your while.”

By day three of your stay in the hotel, you awoke groggily on the king-sized mattress resting comfortably on your back.  You could feel the weight of Ran’s face resting on your shoulder a heavy limb thrown across and over your belly.

This was the longest that the two of you had spent with one another without Ran disappearing to do who knows what in the middle of the night.  It was comforting to wake up in the large suite with him next to you.

He was still fast asleep, his soft breathing humming against your ear as you tried to pull yourself upright.  Ran shifted momentarily readjusting his arm only to pull you closer to him and wrap you in his long limbs.

The room was dim due to the heavy drapes being drawn but you were certain it was well past noon as your stomach had begun to growl waking you up from your slumber.

“Ran,” your voice was scratchy and heavy with sleep.  Placing a soft kiss on Ran’s jaw, you watched as he shifted beside you tucking you underneath him.

“Mmm, what’s wrong?” He asked, lazily lifting his head eyes still sealed closed as if he were too tired to open them.

“It’s time for breakfast, I think.” You gave him another kiss and he unfolded his arms around you before sitting up to swing his long legs over the side of the mattress. 

He sat upright for a moment or two rubbing the sleep from his eyes before he reached for the hotel phone and held it up to his ear.  He was ordering room service.  This had become a daily ritual for the late mornings that the two of you shared over the last few days.

After putting in the order, he glanced down at the clock.  It was only a few minutes after nine, the two of you didn’t overdo it too badly today.

You watched Ran as he stood up admiring the way his muscles tightened and flexed together as if synchronized while he stretched to chase away the stiffness in his body then observed him as he slowly walked into the bathroom.

It had been three days.  Three days that you haven’t opened your mouth about the blonde woman at the banquet the other night.  Feeling as if it would put a damper on the time, you two were spending with one another, you hesitated to bring it up.

The question had been eating away at you the entire time, no matter how much Ran touched and fussed over you the question just seemed to pop up at the most inappropriate times.  You really needed to know, you wanted to know.

You held your tongue for about an hour.  Once the two of you had eaten breakfast and ended up lying in bed wrapped in each other’s arms.  Ran sat up abruptly and pulled your legs into his lap before running his hands over the bottoms of your feet. 

Your calves tensed and then relaxed when you realized he was just massaging your bare feet, something that he found himself doing ever since he found out you were pregnant.  He seemed to be distracted enough, running his hands over your smooth skin and rubbing out the would-be knots in the arches of your feet.

The television was on in the background, but it was muted while he worked on you his glance finding the screen every now and then.

“Ran,” you mumbled, leaning against the pillow propped up behind your back.

He hummed an acknowledgment, giving you a quick glance before his attention went back to your legs and calves.

“Who was the blonde the other night? An old girlfriend?” you asked the question thoughtfully, you weren’t upset and hoped he didn’t think you were. 

His hands stiffened briefly before he began to knead the back of your calves not really bothering you to spare a glance.

“If I told you no, would that make you feel better?” he asked flatly.

Pursing your lips you leaned towards him squeezing his bicep.

“I’m just curious, you didn’t seem to like her very much… but she was obviously still into you.”

He sighed under his breath turning his eyes on you, the hands that were rubbing your calves now carefully squeezing at your thighs.

“She wasn’t my girl or anything, just someone I used to fuck around with.”  His eyes dropped from yours down to the curve of your lips before making eye contact with you once more.  “Often.”

Raising your brows in surprise you reclined against your pillow swallowing down any other questions.  He was being relatively honest, that was all you were asking for.  Progress.

“Okay.” You shrugged, pulling your legs underneath and flashing him a faint smile.

Ran sat up arching a brow in confusion, he wasn’t expecting you to not question him further.

“That’s it?” he asked incredulously.

Blinking in surprise, you smiled laughing a bit under your breath, “Yes, why?”

“You don’t want to know anything else?”

“Is there anything else I should know?” Canting your head off to the side you eyed him suspiciously.

“No.  Just… make sure you let me know if she ever approaches you, hm?” Running a hand through his hair he shook his head as if he were uncertain about his next words.  “If she goes out of her way, to make contact with you, you tell me immediately.”

Nodding hesitantly, you agreed.   He seemed adamant about staying away from her.  She was probably dangerous; she was a member of Bonten.

“Now,” Ran’s voice brought you out of your thoughts, both of his hands latching around your ankles.  He began to pull you across the length of the mattress throwing your legs over his own.  “Come and sit on my face for a bit, I’m starving.”

#the hills #tokyo revengers smut #ran haitani x reader

[sarcasticdolphin]

"Morning Visitor" Smrtolf daemon au (I mean it was bound to happen eventually). For @adridoesstuff :)

Rudolf's daemon is a blue bird-of-paradise named Leopold.

Smrt's daemon is Aemilia, who is a raven here instead of an angel. But because Smrt is Smrt she can take a human form, unlike other daemons.

Cut is for length.

Rudolf woke to a cool breeze in his chambers. That wasn’t unusual - he left the window open just enough that Leopold could come and go as he wished, and so the cool night air did likewise. His beautiful daemon had a tendency to tuck himself into Rudolf’s arms at night, desiring with warmth they brought, but sometimes he liked to come and go, so Rudolf left the window open. 

The morning was just arriving, pink appearing in the eastern sky, but Leopold wasn’t in his arms, so Rudolf rose and went to the window. His daemon was easy enough to spot most of the time - blue feathers were not common amongst the birds of Vienna - but in the dim light even Leopold’s feathers would be more black than blue, so he paused only for a moment to look before finding another shirt.

He wasn’t quite so desperate to put on his military jacket at this hour, but there was a definite chill in the air.

The sound of fluttering wings that signals a bird landing brings a smile to Rudolf’s face, and he turns to greet his precious Leopold, only to find a graceful raven standing instead on the windowsill, looking at him curiously. 

“You’re not Leopold.”

The raven tilts its head. Obviously.

It’s hard to tell with ravens, but from the size Rudolf guesses that this one is female, and she’s beautiful, feathers shining with an iridescence.

“You’re beautiful.”

That earns him a blink. Obviously. And Rudolf is struck with the odd feeling that the raven before him is judging him. 

It’s really probably a bad idea, but Rudolf pulls out the small container of nuts and places one on the windowsill, a meter or so from the raven. She eyes it for a moment before stepping closer to inspect it, finally accepting his offering, and delicately eating it before turning back to Rudolf.

Acceptable.

The rustle of feathers comes again, signaling a landing bird. It is Leopold this time, and Rudolf’s blood runs cold for a moment. He hadn’t realized quite how large the raven was, but with Leopold here it is plain to see - she��s got to be twice as long as him, and for sheer size, she must be more than four times as large as his daemon. And Leopold is no songbird. 

Rudolf taps his shoulder and an agonizing moment later, his daemon flutters up to perch there. Rudolf breathes a sigh of relief and looks back at the raven. She really is a pretty bird. He always gets compliments on Leopold, on his pretty blue feathers, but there’s something about the iridescence of the raven that is just mesmerizing, especially in the way the light dances green and then blue on her seemingly black feathers.

She’s looking at them, really glancing all around the room, like she’s inspecting it. “Are you a daemon?” She seems too intelligent to not be, but ravens are smart birds. 

That earns him a little noise. Duh. 

“Are you lost?” The palace is a big place, and there are many rooms. Rudolf hangs a somewhat subtle strip of cloth on the rail of his balcony so Leopold can find his way home more easily after a flight.

The bird tilts her head and glares at Rudolf again, seemingly insulted by the insinuation that she could be lost.

“Would you like more nuts?”

A little noise. Fine.

Rudolf offers Leopold one and his daemon happily eats from his hand before Rudolf hesitantly reaches out to the raven, offering her a nut. He’s acutely aware of the large beat. Getting bitten by Leopold isn’t terribly fun, and her beak is much larger than his.

But the raven eats too delicately, plucking the morsel from his hand like the most elegant of ladies. Perhaps this is the daemon of whoever his father wishes him to marry, sent to take his measure.

Rudolf glances at his own daemon. Leopold, for all Rudolf adores him, isn’t someone Rudolf would send for that particular task. It’s not that he’s unintelligent, just a little too easily distracted. 

Rudolf pushes the window a little more open, so the raven can easily leave when she wishes, but then gets to his studies. As much as he would like to watch the lovely bird, all his tutors seem to be under the impression that the subject they are teaching him is the only one in existence, so he has more than a few assignments to get through.

Leopold for his part flutters up to one of his perches and settles down to nap while Rudolf pulls out a few books and starts reading, glancing up ever so often. He’s not sitting in his usual spot, purposely keeping himself between his daemon and the raven. She seems gentle, but with the size difference a fight between them wouldn’t be pretty and it wouldn't go Leopold’s way. 

The raven for her part seems content to explore Rudolf’s quarters, walking around the room, poking and prodigy at various objects Rudolf had left on his desk, and just watching Rudolf. But the entire time, she seemed mindful of his concern for Leopold, staying always where Rudolf could see her, and mostly quite close to the window. Though perhaps that was just her making sure she could escape easily.

It’s probably a poor choice, but Rudolf offers her a few more nuts over the hours, and she does come closer, allowing the prince to hesitantly stroke the feathers of her head for a few brief moments. It’s not something Rudolf would normally dream of trying with a bird he had just met, let alone with a beak that looked like that, but there was something so intelligent in the raven’s eyes. And just the hint of a threat that she might bite him if he didn’t scratch her.

The servants had brought his breakfast eventually, and Rudolf offered a few tidbits of meat to Leopold and the pretty raven even as he threw on more proper clothing.

The jacket was awkward and stiff - Leopold didn’t really have talons the way a bird of prey might, but someone had failed to mention that to the seamstress and so Rudolf had a jacket that would protect him from even an imperial eagle if it came to it. 

The raven is sitting in his chair when he turns around, poking at the fabric in a manner that belied curiosity. 

“I’ve got to leave now. Goodbye.”

The raven blinked at him. Ok.

Leopold fluttered up to his shoulder and Rudolf took one more look at the pretty raven. Perhaps if she was the daemon of whichever girl his father now wished him to marry everything might go alright. She was certainly a daemon he would happily spend more time around.

#my fic #smrtolf daemon au

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[evanderhilloway]

Souls at Sunset

Chapter One ~ Raining Men

“Damn, betcha he wishes he had wings.”

“It just shat ‘em out!”

“Moose, ya idiot, clouds don’t shat people.”

“Quiet the lot of ya. Evander, what did ya see?” Captain Taprick cut through the racket of the small but growing crowd pressed eagerly against the port-side rail, his demanding voice aimed at the clean-cut sailor gasping in front of them. A rather large, rather sea-soaked stranger lay unconscious on the main deck beside him.

Dripping wet and out of breath, Evander's small frame cradled the man twice his size. Captain was impressed Evander managed to retrieve such a mass, but his question still lingered in the salty air.

A question, oddly enough, that would never be answered.

Evander raised his head, his sandy brown hair dripping saltwater down his soft, bare face, a pair of striking orange eyes meeting the captain's own. He grinned.

“Does that really matter right now? Did you see that?! Lightning struck this lad AS HE FELL!” Evander glanced back to the bulky heap of a half-elf in his lap. “I’m gonna name you Lucky!”

“He’s not a pet ‘Vander!” Cap howled as he turned, shaking his head. “Take him to the hold. Soon as he wakes, I want to know.” He spoke over his shoulder, eyes low. “As for the rest of ya, back to work. Acting like the sky be shittin' men. Have I got a crew of men or vultures?!”

Most of the crew dispersed and echoed back a firm “men!”, though truth be told, there were more than a few “vultures” quietly uttered in there. The sailors resumed their duties - albeit begrudgingly - trying to forget that the clouds did in fact just expel a real, live man. A half-elf to be precise. And probably live, anyway.

The stranger was undeniably a good-looking fellow, though considerably larger in stature than a typical half-elf. His fair skin made for an elegant contrast against the nearly black mop of hair atop his head, shaved sides giving him a somewhat hardened look to match his otherwise striking features. A strong jaw served as a foundation to a grecian nose, angular cheekbones, and a strong brow. Plain clothes and awkward tan lines about his neck and chest, and a strange tree-like birthmark at the base of his neck added to the mystery of “Sky Man” or “Icarus” as Evander had started calling him.

“Welp, ye scared him to death.” A large half-orc named Pea took a gruff inhale over [Dewdrop], a silver-toothed grin teeming with satisfaction at his assessment.

“If the lightning didn’t kill him, Vander’s breath would've.” Moose called from the bunk adjacent the stairs.

“Or his high-pitch lady voice.” Collin added, trying to mimic the unusually soft voice Evander possessed.

“He’s not dead, Pea… I think he’s trying to decide if he wants to stay.” Evander said matter of factly.

“Ever the poet.” Captain lingered on the stairs from the main deck to the quarter deck, warily eyeing his crew and the unwelcome and unhelpful extra body. “At least he’s not eating any rations. Moose, move 'em below. No sense in letting ‘em be comfortable if he ain’t conscious.”

Moose, true to his name, grunted in agreement and easily heaved [Shark Boy] over his massive shoulder. Evander opened his mouth to protest, but thought better of it. Noting that the glow and position of [Failed Flyer’s] soul remained unchanged.

“Come on. This world ain’t so bad.” Evander thought as he willed his newest friend to stay.

Evander kept a watchful eye on Moose as he disappeared below deck with [Mr. Freefall] in tow, hauling the invalid down to a bunk in the hold. Evander then brushed himself off, and took to his normal jaunt of cheery jabs and belly laughs, working diligently to usher the crew back to normal in no time.

Before long, and finding himself on break, Evander hurriedly descended the ladders between decks before dropping softly on the wooden floor of the ship's hold, eager to check on his new friend.

Below deck Evander's orange eyes dimmed, the darkness softening their appearance to a resemblance of peaches, both shape and hue. His eyebrows relaxed as he took a good look at the recovering adrenaline junkie in front of him. The stranger's body swayed as the boat crashed gently against the ocean's waves.

“Unfortunate entry, but I think you’ll like it here.” Evander spoke as he eyed the dimly lit orb in the center of [Skydiver’s] chest.

●●●

Since the day he was born, Evander could see souls. Not apparitions or ghouls, but the glowing orb of life in everyone’s chest. He could see how high it sat, how much it glowed, and the effects that different actions had on it. Since childhood, Evander vowed to be the reason souls glowed around him. He would never speak in a way that would break a spirit, lower a soul, or darken the glow. He loved life. He loved love. He was the brightest, most spontaneous, giving person you’d ever meet.

And he was going to save [Mr. Flying High].

“Welcome aboard The Changeling, Cloud Rider.” Evander uttered softly, as he hopped down from his barrel perch on and hoisted himself up the ladder once again to continue his duties above, leaving the gently swaying half-elf to rest.

●●●

“Betcha wish we had a healer now, eh Cap?!” Collin jeered, as he gathered a nearby rope, coiling it around his elbow and the crook of his thumb.

“Not one bit. Y’know their kind is nothing but witchcraft. Bad luck is all it brings. No place for it here.” Captain shot back, eager to finish the conversation.

Evander entered the conversation as he emerged from below deck, chewing on dried fish. “No such thing as bad luck, cap.”

“Maybe not to you, Sunshine. You’ve been on water, what, six years? Ya greenie.” Evander turned to the sea so he didn’t catch him mouth the following in mocking cadence with the captain “until you’ve sailed for 22 years I’ll hear nothing from your baby face.”

Captain Tapia was of course referring to the fact Evander hadn’t a hair on his face or chest. Not a single sprig of manly prowess to be seen. It didn’t bother him. Truth be told, he preferred it this way. He told the men it was common in his family. They named him Baby Face and were done with it.

Moose, who had a grand beard, offered multiple times to share his trimmings with ‘Vander, granting him a roar of laughs from the crew.

After a few days of waiting, watching, regular checkups, and plenty of one-sided chats from Evander, [Sparky Sparky Boom Man ™] opened his eyes at last. He wasn’t awake, by anyone’s standard, but his yellow eyes blinked, drinking in his dank surroundings. The black gave way to a dimly lit hold, where shelves lined with haphazardly strewn parchments could be made out, alongside a particularly excitable, though not particularly discernible, form perched nearby. On what, the stranger couldn't quite say just yet, his vision still blurred and foggy in his half-asleep stupor. A wide smile and bright eyes met the barely conscious stranger's before he slipped back into darkness once again.

●●●

Waking to a pair of dimly lit orange eyes startled [Meteor], sending him into a panicked scramble, sitting himself just upright enough to reach a burly arm across his person and draw a seemingly imaginary sword from his hip. A mixture of confusion and disappointment spread across [Engine Failure’s] countenance as with the flooding realization that whatever he expected to be there, was in fact, not. A half a second’s thought later, and he was cracking his knuckles, fists held at the ready for what he perceived would be a little casual hand-to-hand combat instead.

“Woah there. I’m no threat. Take it easy…” Evander raised his hands as his friend stumbled in the dark, on edge and confused.

Teeming with rage and uncertain whether he had found himself on the defensive or offensive side of this whole situation, and unsure of what this whole situation even was period, [Dead Weight], still a little sleepy and dazed, stammered back, “I- if you’re not a threat, g-give me your sword then.” Keeping one fist clenched and held close to his jaw in a readied block, [Dragon Rider Sans Dragon] extended a hand out to Evander, waiting for him to relinquish his own weapon in truce.

“Mm ya know, dunno if you’re a threat yet.” Evander placed his palm on the hilt of his blade, only slightly cautious.

Not willing to lay all of his cards on the table, or any of them for that matter, and also acutely aware of the fact that the emptiness of his mind, devoid of any memory as to who he was or where he came from, indicated very strongly that he had no cards to lay down anyways, [Free Fall] opted for the most honest yet intimidating response his muddled brain could muster, “Of course I’m a threat. But there’s no need to find that out the hard way. Just give me the damn blade, boy.” He managed to keep his voice collected and even.

“Sure ya are.” Evander slowed, watching the heap in front of him glance hastily about the room, casing his immediate surroundings, before resigning himself warily back to the blanket Evander had left on him. He kept both eyes fixed firmly on Evander, gears turning about his mind behind them.

“Welcome to The Changeling! What should we call you?”

Silence.

Clearly [Divebomb] wasn't in the mood to chit chat, a mood Evander didn’t empathize with though he was quite familiar with it in others. He was, however, in the mood to relax his posture a moment, feigning surrender to his predicament long enough to distract his overly optimistic and trusting “companion” into letting his own guard down…or in the very least, he hoped, leaving him the hell alone.

“Right then. I’ll leave ya to it, Cap’s gonna wanna know you’re up though. Expect company, Birdman.” Evander climbed up the ladder as he had a thousand times, eager to uncover the mystery that grumbled from the depths. But the grumbling in Evander’s own mind came to a swift halt with a hardy knock to the back of his head. As he tumbled from the ladder with a groan and succumbed to the now inevitable state of unconsciousness, Evander’s last thought wriggled through. That was a lantern. Definitely a lantern.

This segued nicely into [Shooting Star’s] following thought, Where the fuck is the key?, as he rifled through Evander’s pockets, turning up nothing more than a feather, some skipping stones, and a copper piece broken in two. Contemplating a more thorough search, [Sky Captive] opted not to be too invasive with his pokings and proddings. He wanted out, sure, but he wasn’t a monster. He paused for a moment, looking down at the hands that he didn’t recognize. Or maybe I am?

Shaking off the intrusion, he continued his search into the hold itself, once again finding little of use - a stray barrel stopper and what looked to be a brittle old peg leg. Ugggggghhhh, fuck…gonna have to try the hard way I guess. Gonna lose all my fucking dignity before I even have any…

[Ripped Parachute] clambered up the ladder - wincing to himself at the egregious embarrassment that would ensue from what he was about to do next - clenched his fist, scrunched his eyelids in despair, and knocked a positively ridiculous diddy on the hatch above - Knock, knock. Knock, knock, knock. Knock, knock. He peeked one eye open in anticipation.

“That ain’t it, Star Lord ™ “, was the gruff and jeering response he got, followed by an echo of rolling laughter about the deck above.

This time, he pounded the hatch with both fists, screaming in anger. The chortling only grew louder among the crewmates guarding the hatch above, as they took immense pleasure in the futile escape efforts of the stranger below.

Where ya gonna go, anyway? [Penguin Pretending to Be A Fucking Goose] asked himself, much to his own chagrin. Sliding back down, he crumpled into a cross-legged heap at the base of the ladder. Taking note of the irony that now he was the one awake and forced to watch his sickeningly cheery captor slumber, [Satellite Reentering the Atmosphere] tossed an exasperated gesture toward Evander and grumbled to himself, “Fuck, I guess I really gotta make nice with Sleeping Beauty here.”

●●●

Opening one eye to a pounding headache, and stifling a groan, Evander squinted at his surroundings, spotting his perpetrator sitting criss-cross applesauce at the bottom of the only escape route. He let a sleepy smirk pan across his face, in recognition of his companion's failed attempt at an exit.

“What’s the plan, Icarus?” Crossing his arms behind his head as he kept his eyes trained on the ceiling, Evander inhaled sharply as he felt the sore spot on his head. “Hold me hostage for all I’m worth? Start a mutiny? Take over the ship with my wee dagger? Kill everyone and take The Changeling for yourself? I’m guessing by now you’ve alerted Moose and Collin that you’re up. Curious how you thought this was going to end for you.”

[TIMBEEEEERRR!!!] chuckled a little at the small man’s quips. He was, however, a little unsettled at his inability to find that dagger Evander just mentioned. But hell would have to freeze over before he'd let on to this puny excuse of a sailor before him.

Crossing his arms atop his barrel of a chest, his yellow eyes gleamed as he smirked, “Turns out I don’t really have a plan. Don’t suppose it’s too late for a truce?” He held out his hand to Evander, somewhat less a threat than before.

“All ya had to do was ask.” Evander reached to clasp the extended hand but pulled back at the last second “I’m gonna need something in return…”

The yellow-eyed stranger pulled at the seams of his loose-fitting, white linen, “Look man, I don’t know what ya want, but I clearly don’t have much. Whatever you’re asking for, I can almost guarantee I can't give it to ya. ”

Evander stepped around his captor and climbed the ladder “if you’ve got two eyes, you can oblige. You owe me a sunset, Icarus.”

Shit. [Not Icarus] released an audible sigh, “Fine, but you’re gonna have to call me anything but that. I ain’t no damn Icarus.”

Considering for a moment, and noting the unique traits of this half-elf, stranger in a strange land, Evander landed on an elvish name for his unlucky traveling companion “How about Vagor?”

An awkward pause filled the silence. “Why Vagor?”

“Damn you really don’t know? It’s Elven for ‘Wanderer’, which seems fitting enough for ya.”

Reaching up instinctually to take in the slight point of his ears, the half-elf uttered in response, half to himself, “Huh, how ‘bout that?...I guess I can get behind ‘Vaaaagoor’", as if testing the name out for himself. "Just as long as that’s really what it means and you aren’t just pulling some stupid-ass prank on me.”

Understanding the mistrust but eager to prove himself, Evander happily added “You’ll find out pretty quickly that’s not really my style.”

As Evander heaved himself back up the ladder, to finally exit the hold - this time hopefully uninhibited - Vagor exhaled sharply, catching his once benevolent captor’s attention one more time, “Look, kid. You seem like a decent human being. So I’ll be straight with ya. I don’t know who I am. I don’t know where I came from. I don’t know why I’m here or what I’m capable of. And you would do well to continue to see me as a threat, not a friend." He flung both arms out in exasperation, "Heck, you’d probably do best to throw me fucking overboard.”

The boyish sailor let out a laugh to break the remaining tension, “Everyone’s a friend unless proven otherwise, and even then, walking the plank isn’t up to me, you’ve gotta convince Cap on that one.” Evander paused, eyeing the sad state of a soul in front of him “You can call me Evander.”

Vagor paused too. “Well, Evander, when’s sunset?”

“Gonna be a few, stars are out.” Rubbing the back of his head he adds “thanks to your batting practice, we’ve missed it today.”

“Hey, don’t blame that shit on me. You coulda just left me for dead in the middle of this godforsaken sea and then you’da been able to watch your damn sunset none the wiser. So it’s thanks to your damn diving practice, actually.”

“You’re welcome, by the way.” Evander seated himself on the slightly slanted ladder, a perch he has taken many times now.

Vagor snorted, “Presumptuous of you to assume there was a ‘thank you’ on the way.”

Evander smirked and shook his head in reply.

An awkward pause filled the silence a moment longer than necessary, before Vagor quickly added, “Goodnight then, I guess, Evander,” himself clearly not planning to fall asleep any time soon.

“No way you’re sleeping now. The whole ship knows you’re up, and Cap’s gonna have questions.”

“Wasn’t aware I owed anyone answers,” Vagor replied, a renewed tinge of hesitancy tainting his voice.

“Plenty of us have secrets. Ya don’t owe anyone anything, but until we make port, yer gonna have to pull yer own ass. Cap just wants to know yer willing, and if not, the plank at night is a gorgeous sight.”

Vagor chuckles, “Don’t tempt me.” Before he even realized he’d done it, Vagor let his countenance fall into an unexpected sheepishness, his gaze quickly falling into his own lap. He hesitated a moment, unsure if he could find or even knew the words that were to follow, “I- I’d just like a few minutes alone down here. The dark. I like it. It- It feels familiar.” He returned his gaze upward to meet the shimmering orange eyes of the closest thing he now had to a friend, which was, in his mind, still not close at all.

“Sure thing.” Evander was familiar with the comfort of darkness.

Vagor nodded in appreciation of Evander’s understanding, at last releasing his peculiar new companion to take his final leave of the dark, dank hold.

#work in progress #fantasy fiction #worldbuilding #storytelling #backstory #writing #orange eyes #fiction

[starfallserotonin]

Among the Shadows

Summary: Fleeing from a far off continent, she seeks shelter from her father who is hunting her down. In her final attempt to find a place to call her own, she meets a male who tells her of a city of starlight and a court of acceptance. There she hopes she’ll find something to call home. She did not think that she would find herself willingly knee deep in a war, and even find herself love along the way.

Hey there! This is part two to my Azriel x oc fic. This takes place in ACOWAR after the attacks on velaris and adriata, a bit before the visit to Greyson’s family estate. In this story, obviously Azriel is the love interest. Elaine and Nesta will be a little bit more involved at dinners and such at first in comparison to how it is in the book, just so the character can see who they are and I’m not acting like they’re just non existent. This is my first time writing so please leave feed back! Enjoy <3

Among the Shadows

part 2

The first evening, I spent my time letting Steele rest on her balcony that was outside of my room. Rhysand and Feyre spared no time attempting to make it more comfortable for her. They had many large plush cushions laid out on half of the massive balcony. Next to the thick stone railing was a massive but elegant water feature that reflected the starlight in the ever full trough, giving Steele access to water constantly. There were large dishes behind Steele’s makeshift cushions that never emptied their many offerings of food choices for my scaled companion. If I had to guess, I would say the High Lady was absolutely smitten with Steele. I would have to make sure to invite her to come spend time with Steele soon.

The balcony, on the half not occupied by Steele’s living accommodations, was fairly empty save for a beautiful stone table and chairs and a few large potted plants. It was so elegant and extravagant compared to the hovels I have had to reside in over the past four years. And my room was no exception. It was larger than any I have seen in years. A large four posted bed, draped in silver sheets and thick black quilts, was centered against the wall. A gigantic fluffy black rug spread across the cold marble floor, stopping just before the dark mantle of the fireplace that flickered warmly against the cool air that whisked in from the large open bay doors that lead to the balcony. I would have to leave those open, or at least one of them, for Steele. She got quite restless when she could not see me. A protective beast indeed, as Cassian had said.

Adjacent to the fire place, perpendicular to the balcony doors was a medium sized rounded archway that opened to the large wash room. Its walls were painted black, contradicting the soft white walls of the bedroom. The tiled floors were a glimmering white stone with silver specs within the tiles. A gigantic tub sat in the center of the room. Large enough to possibly fit at least three people, maybe even four! Why did one need such a large wash tub? My mind flicked to Cassian. Ahhh, his wings. Maybe there were more of them here who had those beautiful wings. The size of the tub made sense now. Double sinks and a large vanity filled the room, along with a loveseat lounge and a private toilet room in the corner.

Needless to say, this was the finest place I have had the privilege to stay in. I would even dare say it is nicer than my room in Boulderon. However, anywhere is better than there.

I decided it would be best to wash up, running a hot bath was a luxury I had not allowed myself for quite some time. I spent extra time washing away the dirt and aches with the expensive soaps and oils that were strewn about the ledge of the tub. Finishing my long wash, I wrapped myself in a towel and went to change. My bag that contained my change of clothes was missing from the floor by my door, where I had dumped it when I entered the room. Looking around the room, my gaze settled on the armoire and dresser on the side of the room closest to the door, next to a small sitting area with a lounge and coffee table.

Here’s to hoping my hosts gave me a change of clothes before taking my only set. Clutching the towel tighter to my body as a cool breeze wafted in, I opened the armoire. A gasp left my lips. I opened the dresser. The same reaction. There were shoes, dresses, tops, bottoms, night wear, basics, and even fighting leathers filling the entirety of them both. Rhysand must know more of my origin than I thought as most of the clothing were in my kingdoms midnight blue and opal fashion, along with some in their courts colors of black and silver.

I opted for a midnight blue pair of loose velvet pants and a loose opal satin top. Not anything fancy, very casual, and extremely comfortable. But not quite pajamas. I wanted to be comfortable as I wandered the house and found something to eat. Before leaving my room, I brushed my hair and bid Steele goodbye, reassuring her that I would be back soon. She was clearly hesitant, blowing cold air out of her nostrils at me, but nuzzled my shoulder with her giant head and laid back down in her cushions. I slipped on some opal colored flats and walked out into the hall.

It took me a while to figure out where I was. Maybe I should have paid more attention to the way Feyre took me to my room rather than being entranced with the beauty and power that radiated off of her. Eventually I wandered to a place that looked familiar, the stairs that led down to the main floor where the dining hall and living area were. If I correctly remembered what Feyre mentioned that is. I descended from the final step when I heard laughter coming from what I only assumed was the dining hall. Cautiously I treaded toward the giant archway, turning into the room. All chatter and laughter halted, causing heat to flood my face and reach my ears. I was met with six pairs of eyes. Two belonged to the High Lady and Lord. One hazel set belonged to Cassian, sitting across from Rhysand. A brown set belonged to a beautiful female who had soft features, seated next to a strikingly gorgeous female with unworldly silver eyes. Next to Cassian was a female with grey blue eyes, sharp cheekbones, beautiful blonde hair, and a scowl on her remarkably stunning face. If what I can recall from what Feyre told me, two of females were her sisters, Elaine and Nesta, and the other was called Amren. Meaning two of the High Lady and Lord’s friends were absent.

“Gabriella! Finally, we almost sent Cassian up to get you!” Rhysand bellowed, earning a pointed look from Feyre and a smirk from Cassian. “Come sit, join us for dinner”.

I crossed the room and took the empty chair next to Cassian, across from Feyre. He was the only one other than the High Lord and Lady that I knew. I might not have said much to him when he brought me here, but I trusted him from the moment he told me he would take me here, where it was safe. He gave me a warm smile as I sat beside him.

“Rhys, I told you, don’t call her by her full name” Feyre hushed toward her mate. I let out a small chuckle. Turning toward her friends, Feyre introduced me to each of them. “Ella will be staying with us for a while. Cassian, when she is settled in enough she will meet you in the mornings for training.”

“We’ll see if she can hold her own”, Cassian teased and winked my direction.

Rhysand chuckled, “Easy there Cas, she might sick that dragon of hers on you if you’re not careful”. Cassian looked at me with a nervous smile and I couldn’t help but let out a deep laugh, the others joining in.

“So you really have a dragon?” Elaine’s soft voice spoke up from next to Feyre. Finishing chewing my bite of food, I nodded. “I had no idea they were real” she whispered.

“You can come meet her, if you like.” I smiled warmly at her, she was quiet and shy but I really did not mind that all. A thin smile crossed her face, earning a look of surprise from the others. Feyre had mentioned that Elaine had not been doing well since she was Made. Had barely come down for dinner or spoken. So for her to even ask me anything, let alone smile a tiny bit, was clearly meaningful to her sister.

“I think we all want to, girl” Amren spoke from next to Nesta with a bit of a chuckle.

“Of course! No promises that I won’t ‘sick’ her on you all though” I teased with a wink towards Cassian who threw his head back in a deep laugh.

Dinner went on. I spoke with Feyre about Steele, Elaine listening intently from her side. With Amren I discussed my travels, where I had been and what I had seen. Cassian kept talking to Rhysand about how having Steele and I in battle would be a great advantage. I think he was just stoked to fly next to a dragon again. Nesta remained silent, reading a book while she ate. However I did catch a few of her glances towards me, each time I gave a warm smile. I wanted these people to like me, accept me, not see me as a threat. We did not have to be friends, by any means, but I wanted nothing more than to portray how incredibly thankful I am to be here.

Before deciding to retire to bed, Rhysand informed me that his cousin Morrigan would be here tomorrow evening and his spymaster Azriel would likely return in the morning. He wanted me to meet everyone in his Inner Circle. The High Lords hospitality was more than I could ask for. I stood from my seat, thanked the High Lord and Lady for my meal with a small bow and made way to leave the dining area. Cassian shot up from his seat and followed me out.

“Need help getting back to your room? This place can be a bit of a maze” he winked.

“Normally I would curb this flirting. And while I am not interested in the slightest, I actually do need help. I do not care to admit how long it took me to find my way to the dining hall” I laughed with a shrug and a friendly nudge of my shoulder into his arm.

He smiled widely, “hey, it was worth a shot”.

“That it was Cas” I beamed up at him. I hadn’t had a real friend in ages, and I couldn’t explain it but I felt like he and I just clicked platonically during dinner. Whether it be due to the fact that he was the first one I met, or we just vibed, I really didn’t care. I was just eager to see if he’d be like a friend to me. “So, your High Lord mentioned that you train at dawn everyday. Would that happen to take place where we landed in earlier?”

Cassian offered his arm as we walked up the last set of stairs to the top floor. Placing my hand in the crook of his elbow, I looked up at him as we walked down the long hall. My bedroom door at the end. “Yes, that is exactly where it is. However, I think Rhys said to take your time to settle in”

“Right… definitely” I let me voice trail off in a sarcastic manner, “but hypothetically speaking, if someone happened to show up at dawn, would she — I mean they — be allowed to train freely?”

Cassian chuckled lightly, “Ella, you are welcome to train with me in the morning. There should be fighting leathers in your room. We have plenty of weapons for you to practice with, or you can bring those beautiful daggers you drew on me this morning”. We stopped outside of my room.

“Thank you, Cas. I appreciate your kindness towards me” I gave his arm a squeeze before reaching for my door. He bowed his head in a nod before I entered my room.

—

Sweat beaded on my forehead and trickled down my spine as I shot up from my sleep. My fathers hoards had found me in the woods the other day, not Lucien. They dragged my by my ankles as Steele bellowed and roared until not a sound came out of her still form. I kicked and screamed, utterly powerless, as they dragged me into the darkness. It was just a dream of the same reoccurring theme. Nothing new. I am fine. I am in the Night Court in the House of Wind. I am safe. It was just a dream. Letting out a long exhale, I wiped my brow and glanced at the time. About thirty minutes until the break of dawn.

Slipping out of bed I went to the wash room and ran a cold bath to quickly wash away the sweat from my nightmare and to wake my body up. I have to be ready to work hard this morning, so that I can prove that I am worth fighting along side. After towel drying off I tightly braided my long wet hair down my back and adorned a set of midnight blue and black fighting leathers. I slipped my daggers into my belt, put on my boots, and strode onto my balcony. The balcony was damp from rain, the stone on the rest of the house was dry. Looking out at the sky, I judged that the sun would break over the horizon in ten minutes time.

Steele was already awake, no doubt from my rough awakening and the slight shower. On the small table on the balcony a bowl of warm porridge, tea, and an apple waited. Feyre briefly mentioned that the house had a way of providing for those that inhabited it, though I am unaware of how such magic works. Finishing the tea and porridge quickly, I took a bite of the apple and tossed the remaining to Steele. She caught it swiftly. “Thank you, house” I whispered, feeling sort of silly.

“How about you fly me to the training ring?” I pat Steele on the snout before going around her side and mounting the saddle. Before I could even fully settle, she shot into the air causing me to almost topple out. I just laughed and gave her a good rub on her side. She and I, since as long as I can remember, had played this game of sorts where she would launch me out of the saddle mid flight, let me free fall for hundreds of feet, and catch me. Hence, why the current saddle is quite nicely padded compared to what it once was. Thankfully, Steele did not fully go through with our game this morning but to see her be so playful again, the first time in years, is refreshing and heart warming.

She glided onto the training ring and settled softly, allowing me to slide out of the saddle onto the stone. I Pat her side and she flew off toward her balcony, probably to go back to sleep.

The sun was just about to creep over the horizon, so I began to do basic stretches. Starting with my upper body and working my way down. My past may include leading legions into the Great Wars but I will admit that it has been years since I have trained for battle. The last four have since included a style of fighting that required stealth and centered around survival — the joys of being a fugitive. It was not until I was seated on the stone, facing the still slow rising sun, stretching out my calves that I heard Cassian walk out onto the training area.

“Morning Ella”, I could hear the smile in his voice.

“Hey Cassian” I smiled widely as I stood to my feet and turned to him.

“I know Rhys and Feyre insisted on you resting for a few days, but tell me why I knew I would find you out here this morning” he smirked.

I shrugged with a sheepish grin on my face, “good judge of character?”

“Let’s hope so, dragon lady” he glanced up to the sky as if to see if Steele was flying above, “let me just stretch real quick before we get into it”.

I nodded but took the opportunity to pick his brain. So I stretched again and asked him about this war they were fighting. He told me of two attacks so far, one here in Velaris, and another in a court on the coast. He told me what the king of Hybren wanted to do, that he has the very Cauldron the world coveted. Cassian explained in detail of what the High Lady had done in both attacks, how powerful she was. Which lead into the story of how she was Made. By each of the High Lords after the incredible acts she did for them under the mountain. My mouth was open in awe the entire time he spoke of what happened. The High Lady was truly amazing. Cassian went on and told how her sisters were Made as well and what the king of Hybren did to them. It was infuriating to hear of such atrocities. I’m thankful my gut told me to pledge allegiance with them and fight for their cause. What they’re fighting for is more than most go to war for.

Cassian explained the legion he trained, how they were like him with the wings that resembled bats — though they looked similar to Steele’s to me. How he, his brother, and the High Lord all had wings, though Rhysand could summon them when he pleased. He told me of his childhood and how he has met the High Lord. It really just scraped the surface but I was thankful that he felt even remotely comfortable enough to tell me these things.

I hadn’t realized how long we had been stretching and talking until we were both seated on the ground, hardly even stretching and just chatting. The sun was higher now, it had to have been at least forty-five minutes of this. Cassian stood up first, “you’re easy to talk to, Ella. But alas, let’s get training”, he winked and walked over to the side to pick up some impact pads and I followed him into the red dirt training ring. “Let’s see your basic forms first”.

I began to punch and jab at each pad he held in either hand. Moving between different combinations and forms that have been drilled into my head since I was a child. Throwing in a few kicks, here and there. After about twenty minutes of that, Cassian called it and put them back, “not bad at all, dragon lady, your fighting style is a bit different than us Illyrian’s, maybe more defensive but you definitely have the foundations of a warrior.” He smirked, “let’s see if you can hold your own in a real fight”.

No weapons — those would wait until training tomorrow. And no magic, though I am sure he doesn’t know what I’m capable of. We spent the first minute circling each other in the ring, waiting for the other to strike first. Unfortunately for him, my fighting style has always been to wait and strike after my opponent. As Cassian said, more defensive. More reserved, taking in the combat style of the other and using it against them.

Cassian was the first to strike, surely growing impatient, punching toward my chest. Blocking it wasn’t hard but the feeling of his power being absorbed in my bones was a bit painful. The first blow always was. We kept sparing. Each of us throwing punches and jabs and kicks to the other. Cassian was the first to land a hit. Timing my blocking wrong cost me as his fist collided with shoulder and a kick landed my thigh. I landed a few jabs on his side next. It was a good fight, each of us clearly getting tired but wanting the other to yield before calling it quits. I almost had him where I wanted, the perfect chance to slide his foot out from under him and topple him to the ground, if it wasn’t for a tickling whisper sensation on my ankles that caused me to get distracted. Looking down at my feet I saw wisps of black wrapped around them. Cassian saw this as his opportunity and swept my feet out from under me, causing me to slam back first into the dirt. Quickly pinning me down with his forearm on my neck. My chest heaving from exertion, I angled my head back to see the most beautiful male I have ever seen. He very well could have been carved from marble by the Mother herself. His enormous wings looked just like Cassians. He wore fighting leathers identical to Cassians, but where red siphons sat, his were blue. Shadows wrapped around his shoulders. I couldn’t tear my eyes from him — well until Cassian laughed triumphantly.

“Yield?” He bellowed with a proud smirk on his lips.

“Fine fine, yes. Get off” I chuckled.

Cassian jumped up and extended his hand to me. Grabbing his wrist, I allowed him to pull me up next to him. “Gotta say, Ella, I haven’t had a match like that in awhile, not even from Az over there” he winked and nodded toward the Illyrian, who just rolled his eyes at Cassian. This must be the brother he was speaking of.

“Next time, don’t expect to win, bud. I won’t get so distracted next time!” I laughed and nudged his shoulder with my fist. I turned toward the other male as he approached us. “My names Ella, Cassian has told me a lot about you” I beamed up at him. He was tall. And handsome. Boy, was he handsome.

With a small smile he responded, in a voice so deep but gentle that I swear could let him get away with anything, “I’m Azriel. Pleasure to meet you” he bowed his head.

“Come to join us, Az?” Cassian clapped his brother on the shoulder.

Azriel just waved off his brother and began to walk towards the House of Wind, “I have to report to Rhys”.

—

We finally decided to call it a day just after noon. Cassian was beaming by the end of it, going on and on how no one ever wanted to train this long with him anymore and that he and I were going to be fast friends. I hoped so.

We walked into the dining hall laughing about him tripping over his own feet and falling face first into the stone during one of our sparring sessions. Rhysand and Azriel were seated at the table eating their lunch. Cassian took the seat next to Azriel across from Rhysand and I sat next to Rhysand across from Azriel. A plate of roasted chicken, vegetables and potatoes appeared in front of me, with a large glass of water. I silently thanked the house and began to dig in as the guys began to talk. As I was finishing my meal their conversation began to become more political and business like. Not being sure if I should be hearing their conversation I made to get up and leave.

“You don’t have to leave Gabriella,” Rhysand spoke, “if you’re going to fight with us, you should know what’s going on. According to Cassian, you have more than proved yourself capable”. I glanced at Cassian who just winked in response. So I nodded at Rhysand and sat back down, the house giving me seconds.

As I ate my vegetables I allowed myself to listen more carefully now that I knew I was allowed to hear it.

“We need to get more information” Cassian said.

“Azriel is doing all he can, there’s only one of him” Rhysand countered

“I know, and he’s doing great, but we need all the information we can get.” Cassian murmured.

“Maybe if I had someone else who could do some recon with me. My spies are stretched thin at the moment” Azriel muttered quietly. Perhaps the most sentences I’ve heard him speak.

“We don’t have anyone else with your skill set, spymaster. Besides, trying to collect information from possible Hybren camps is dangerous and time consuming. All of our soldiers are training and we cannot deviate any of your spies from their current positions.” Rhys spoke casually, as if this was normal lunch conversation.

As they spoke more about what they could do, who to send, which camps could yield beneficial to spy on; I glanced up through my lashes to the male sitting across from me. His complexion was dark like Rhysand’s and Cassian’s, his eyes hazel like the latter’s. He wore dark fighting leathers and a siphon sat in the center of his chest. It was a dull sapphire blue, like it was sleeping. He was listening to something Rhysand was saying, his chin resting on the back of his scarred hand propped up by his elbow. A siphon slept there too. I glanced at my plate and took another bite, I did not want him to catch me staring. But I couldn’t help it. Azriel is probably the most handsome man I’ve ever laid my eyes on. His jawline is strong and his eyes glittered as he narrowed in on whatever the High Lord was saying. And the wings on his back, much like Cassian’s only larger, were so relaxed and beautiful. It was hard not to stare.

Small tendrils of black rose over his shoulders in wisps, the same wisps that distracted me in the training ring. Those shadows were somehow alive, surrounding the male and moving on what seemed to be their own accord. They explored around him but did not look like they ventured far. I wonder what they would feel like when I wasn’t distracted? Would they be like fog, light and watery? Or heavy and thick? As if they could sense my curiosity, a few tendrils slowly began to slither their way across the table toward me, the males too busy talking to see. Silently setting down my cutlery, I tentatively sprawled out my fingers against the wood table before turning my hand over, palm facing up. The shadows did not hesitate to brush against my fingers, curling around them and toward my palm. Somehow they felt airy but also heavy and dry as they pooled into the center of my palm. Cool darkness swirled, sending shivers up my spine. A single tendril started to work its way up my wrist, lifting my hand up a little off of the table it began to circle my forearm. Light tickles and wisps brushing my skin as it did. I was practically entranced, lost in awe as these shadows curled around me and in my palm like a kitten purring and nuzzling.

A throat cleared, pulling me out of the shadows trance. My eyes shot up to meet Azriel’s. Rhysand and Cassian now in a friendly but heated discussion about which camp is best to investigate, kept them too occupied to notice. Azriel’s eyes were wide with shock, like he was surprised the shadows ventured toward me on their own. The wispy tendrils retreated quickly, however I could have sworn I felt a bit of reluctance from them — if that was even possible. Before I could even give Azriel a questioning look, he got up and excused himself from the table. Claiming he had to go wash away the filth of his mission.

Was it that bad that the shadows came to me? Perhaps I offended him. I know nothing of this kind of magic or of shadow entities, maybe it’s completely inappropriate to touch someone’s shadows. Or maybe he is just sensitive about it — he seems like the silent brooding type. I should just ask him, he seems nice enough. Though, he doesn’t strike me as much of a talker.

I couldn’t help but look down at my palm where the shadows had pooled, they left a slight tingle that made me even more curious about them.

—

After lunch I decided I would explore the house a bit more. I found a small seating room on the top floor near my room, which I knew I would use. A few floors down was where the main dining area that I had lunch in, the common area was on the same floor and the kitchen was on the floor below that. The few levels between, I decided must be rooms. And the library that the priestesses dwelled, Feyre informed me of that one last night and I wanted to respect them and not venture there yet. I found myself on one of the middle levels, looking out from an extremely large balcony over Velaris. The balcony was decked out in comfy seating and tables, clearly used for entertainment. The sun began to set and I knew that I would be in for a treat to see it sink below the horizon from here. Leaning onto the balcony railing, putting all of my weight into my hands, I closed my eyes and let myself listen to the wind.

Flying with Steele had allowed me to have a deep appreciation for the air around me and how it moved. If you stayed still and quiet long enough, I swear you can hear the wind sing to you as it breezes around you. My magic also gave me a deep connection to the sky, the clouds, the wind. I could spend hours feeling and sensing the sky around me.

For the second time tonight, the clearing of a throat breaks me out of my own mind. I turn around to see Azriel walking up next to me. Which was shocking, as he strikes me as a male who definitely doesn’t go out of his way to talk to someone new. “Oh hi, Azriel”, I let a soft smile set on my lips as I brushed my hair behind my ears. I had since changed into a casual navy blue dress with silver detailing and let my hair hang loose down my back.

He gave me a small nod and the tiniest smile in return before settling a few feet down the balcony next to me. He stared out into the sky over the city as the sun began to set more. He was quiet, and while I typically don’t mind quiet company… the silence was making me anxious. So I quickly put my years of royal hosting and event training to good use and turned toward him with a big smile. “So, did you all decide what to do about the Hybren camps?” He shook his head still staring out at the setting sun, alright then. “Do you need more spies? I’ve done reconnaissance missions before, maybe I can help”. He turned his head toward me and tilted it slightly, as if weighing his options before he nodded his head with a tight but shy smile. He didn’t have to talk to me, I’m new. I get it. Sometimes getting to know new people is hard, but the fact that he even came out here and is standing with me shows me that he wants to get to know me at least a little.

Looking back at the setting sun took my breath away. The sky was painted with shades of lavender and tangerine, the clouds smearing the sky in the softest looking brush strokes. In the midst of watching the sunset in silence with this male, who was practically a stranger, I felt the same whispering sensation around my ankles from this morning. I glanced down and saw a few tendrils of his shadows whirling up my dress. They swirled around my hip and around my shoulders before circling down my arm curling around my hand once again. Holding my hand up, I gently flicked my fingers around the shadows; watching as they responded in a playful manner and twirled around my digits a bit tighter.

“Hm. They like you.” My eyes shot from my hands to Azriel who was now leaning against the railing facing me. His brows were furrowed in confusion. “They don’t like anyone…”. I flicked my fingers a few more times before leveling out my hand and letting them pool in my palm again. I couldn’t help but smile down at the shadows.

“They’re beautiful” I whispered, getting lost in the black cloudy pool. After a moment of staring I pulled my eyes away and looked back at Azriel. His eyes were fixated on me. Panic filled my brain and I quickly lowered my arm and began stuttering and mumbling quickly, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be rude. I promise I’m not trying to call them to me or anything”.

“No, oh no, don’t panic Ella.” He sounded reassuring but also a bit worried at my reaction, “You’re fine. I’m just surprised”. He shrugged as he pushed of the railing and began walking back inside, “they like you, so maybe I will too.”

#acotar #cassian acotar #night court #amren acotar #high lord rhysand #high lady feyre #the morrigan #nesta acotar #azriel shadowsinger #feyre archeron #azriel x oc #azriel spymaster #Azriel fanfic

[chloefashionthroughtime]

Hairstyles in the Victorian Era:

In her own right, Queen Victoria was a fashion icon. During her reign, she popularised the "Apollo Loop," which consisted of a simple or coiled plait of artificial hair linked to wires to form eye-catching loops worn vertically on top of the head. However, the usage of extravagant wigs gave way to cleaner, kinder appearances. The Victorian era was about living more simply than the preceding one. Hairstyles grew more natural and modest throughout time, with hair separated in the centre, gathered into a bun or coil, and curls let to flow gently at the sides of the head. Hairstyles reflected societal goals and social developments throughout this time period. The Industrial Revolution witnessed the emergence of the middle classes and the introduction of new clothing and hairstyles. By the 1850s, women's hairstyles included hairpieces purchased from new department stores. Furthermore, women began to use soap to clean their hair, but this act stripped away oils, leaving the hair stringy and dry. Vegetable oil and even bear grease were used to restore the lustre of hair. Toward the end of the nineteenth century, the Marcell Wave, designed by Marcel Grateau's "curling iron," became a fashionable hairstyle that allowed for the creation of a more natural-looking wave rather than a curl. Because Victorians connected hair with life and love, it was customary for women to include lockets of hair into mourning jewellery following the death of a loved one.

The majority of haircuts in the 1840s were basic and symmetrical. Long hair was parted in the middle and draped over the ears and sides before being pulled back into a centre crown bun. Lace, flower, and leaf crowns/headbands sat on the head with a flat top and luxuriant sides in the evenings. Ringlet curls might also be worn on the sides. Princess Eugenia influenced hairstyles and outfit trends throughout the 1850s and 1860s. Her hair was styled in a centre part with ringlet curls dripping down one shoulder. Flowers were added to attend elegant balls or in the presence of a gentleman caller. Ringlets on both sides of the face for little girls were popular, as were the chignon bun and twisted knots at the nape of the neck for all ladies. In the 1840s, concealing the full ear was fashionable, but a partial covering was the usual. During the 1860s, hairstyles included a net-covered chignon that was pulled back up the head and coiled loosely and widely to make the hair appear larger. Tight backward rolls might offer some framing around the face. However, hair was usually pushed back smoothly. Braids originating above or below the ears and draped to the back resembled a short pageboy haircut from the front. A ribbon or crochet yarn hair net embellished with beads wrapped the head in the back or merely over the loose chignon. An undetectable hair net was also used to keep hair in a horseshoe shape low on the neck. Curls on the sides and back were worn for both day and nighttime appearances. Every woman's vanity required a hot curling iron. The iron created waves around the face and corkscrew curls that hung from the ears to the shoulders. Curls were carried up to the temples as the decade progressed toward the 1870s. Engenin rolls were sausage-like tubes that could be rolled from the crown to the rear. Two lengthy ringlet curls were flung over shoulders and to the front from behind the enormous bun.

A full head of ringlet curls pinned back with a lovely comb might be worn by young girls and ladies. Long curls, braids, plaits, and twists flowing down the middle back became fashionable in the 1870s. For a dishevelled effect, the front was waved/frizz curled. Mature ladies had their hair in a high ponytail on the back of their heads, with a few ringlet curls falling down. Long sausage curls remained trendy, whether pulled back with combs or loosely flowing down the sides. Women with long hair who pulled it back tightly may have it curled into a "tail" that reached the waist. A tortoiseshell comb could frequently be seen peaking over the top of the head. Another trendy look that ladies liked was braided brown hair. The hair was divided in the centre, and two long braids rose to round the entire crown, like a hair crown or hat. The most popular portion was still the central part, but a side part or un-parted smooth top was an alternative. Ears were totally visible. A few wispy strands of hair might be used to frame the brow. Ladies with naturally curly hair might simply leave half of their hair done on top and the other half loose. Hair was braided and moulded into buns in high hefty forms. Large rollers were laid horizontally or vertically long. Hairstyles of the 1890s were piled high on top of the crown, in tight coils and curls, with fluffy bangs or fringe over the brow. The top was flat so that little ornate hats may be worn. Hair was maintained simple and low at the neck at home. The piled hair was meticulously curled and pushed even higher for evenings. The Gibson girl pompadour substituted loose round bouffants and a tiny bun at the middle crown for tight curls.

Referencing:

Vintage Dancer. (2022). Victorian Hairstyles 1840s, 1850s ,1860s ,1870s ,1880s ,1890s. [Online]. Vintage Dancer. Last Updated: 17 January 2022. Available at: https://vintagedancer.com/victorian/victorian-hairstyles-1840-1890/ [Accessed 8 December 2022].

#Youtube

[alkushperfume]

Make a Perfect Perfume Gift Set for Women & Men

For gifting purposes, a perfume gift set is considered one of the most excellent gifts one can give to another person. They appear formal and classy while at the same time being quite considerate making them suitable for use on any occasion. However, one of the strongest brand logs found is the Alkushperfume, which provides a halo and a distinct type and variety of products. Now, allow us to define how to make the right perfume gift set for both males and females using Alkushperfume sites.

Why should a Perfume Gift Set be chosen? Convenience and Elegance Thus, perfume gift sets can be considered as a rather popular, and, at the same time, rather an elegant type of the gift. They may contain not only the fragrance they themselves implies but also other accessories such as body lotions, or trial-size bottles of the scent, which makes it more qualitative and varied.

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Understanding Alkushperfume Brand History Beside for many years, the name Alkushperfume has been recognized as one of the leading companies right in the fragrance industry. Known for it quality ingredients and exotic fragrances it boast of a huge legion of loyal customers.

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How to Select the Right Perfume Gift Set That Women Will Truly Appreciate Popular Fragrances for Women It emerged that while the larger percentage of ladies tend to find favor with the floral, fruity and fresh smells. This company alone provides a myriad of them; you are certain to find the one that compliments a particular lady in your life.

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Selecting Appropriate Perfume Gift Set for a Man Popular Fragrances for Men The man prefers strong and deep aroma that has turned to flavoring agents to be woody, spicy and fresh. Some of the masculine perfume scents offered by Alkushperfume to men are in the following collection.

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