#Rooftop Spire

[fogaminghub]

🎮✨ Dive into the magical world of Infinity Nikki with our latest guide on the "Go to the Dream Warehouse!" quest! Learn how to find Igrainne's Wish Bottle, jump through amazing challenges, and collect your fabulous rewards, including the Vibrant Goldvines hair! Click to read more! 🌈  

[postcardsfromwanderings]

Spires and rooftops of Tallinn

[yorksnapshots]

Around the Spire.

All Saints, North Street, York. England.

[i-heart-sky]

[alldaynikki]

Florawish — Greedy Pouch Location 2

You can find another Daily Greedy Pouch northeast of the Secret Base Warp Spire in northern Florawish. You can also walk from the Greedy Pouch over by the Dream Warehouse Rooftop Warp Spire heading west towards this second location.

[misswynters]

𝐗𝐎𝐗𝐎

jinx x fem!bombshell!reader

synopsis: You are a model for (victorias secret equivalent but in arcane universe) and jinx becomes infatuated with you. Known for you bombshell persona and explosive personality, you are the most well known model in all of piltover and zaun. Possibility even watching noxus and the other regions.

warnings: 18+, smut, kissing, smut, wlw , the use of a toy, jinx calls you sugar,

a/n: my first jinx fic <3, also on ao3 (not yet, under doorkiluv)

note | pls give me feedback (and don't only just like but also reblog and comment) this was supposed to be short but it went overboard

𓏲 ˖. ♡ 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐱 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 for Piltover. Too clean, too polished, too boring. The people were all fake smiles and ridiculous hats, and she preferred the chaos of Zaun to its glittering streets. That all changed the day she first saw you. She’d been in Piltover on a whim, loitering in the shadows as she planned her next prank. Explosives in a fancy clock tower, maybe? She hadn’t decided yet. But her chaotic thoughts screeched to a halt when she looked up at the enormous neon screen in Piltover Square and saw your beautiful face.

You were walking down the runway in a show so glamorous it put Piltover’s polished spires to shame. Wrapped in a shimmering, barely-there gown that hugged your curves, you strode with an air of absolute confidence. Your bombshell persona was magnetic, your hips swaying to the rhythm of the music as the crowd erupted into applause. You gave the camera a cheeky wink and blew a kiss, and Jinx’s brain short-circuited.

“Holy… Who the hell is that?” she muttered, her wide eyes glued to the screen.

A vendor passing by glanced at her. “That’s her. You don’t know? The biggest model in all of Piltover and Zaun. Hell, even Noxus and Ionia are crazy about her.”

Jinx didn’t respond, too transfixed by the image of you flashing across the screen. You were a living firework, a walking explosion of charisma, beauty, and sheer presence. Your bold, flirty persona was a match for her own chaos, and it wasn’t just your looks that had her hooked—it was the energy you carried, the way you owned every moment. From that point on, Jinx was utterly captivated.

Back in her lair, your face became a constant presence. Jinx scavenged every poster, magazine, and billboard she could find that featured you. Her walls were covered in them, glossy images of you smirking, posing, and looking like you owned the world. She couldn’t get enough of you, and it drove her mad in the best way possible.

“Look at her,” she’d whisper to herself, lying on her bed and staring at a magazine cover where you lounged in a shimmering gold corset. “She’s a walking explosion.”

Whenever one of your commercials aired on Piltover’s big screens, Jinx made a point to watch. She’d perch on the rooftops, eyes wide and cheeks flushed as you spoke directly to the camera, your voice sultry and teasing. Sometimes, she’d mimic your lines, laughing to herself at how ridiculous she sounded compared to you.

The first time Jinx saw you in person, she nearly short-circuited. You were in Zaun, of all places, stepping out of a sleek transport at one of the fancier underground clubs. It was rare for someone like you to venture into the depths, but you carried yourself with the same confidence that lit up your photoshoots. Heads turned as you walked through the crowd, a knowing smirk on your lips as if you knew exactly the effect you had on everyone around you. Jinx’s pulse quickened. This was her chance.

She darted through the crowd, weaving between gawking onlookers until she was standing at the bar beside you. Up close, you were even more stunning, your beauty almost overwhelming.

“Didn’t think I’d ever see you in a dump like this,” Jinx drawled, leaning casually against the counter. Her nerves were on fire, but she masked it with her usual cocky grin.

You turned to her, one perfectly arched brow raising as you took her in. Your gaze lingered on her bright blue hair and manic energy, and a small, amused smile played on your lips.

“Maybe I like a little chaos,” you replied, your voice smooth as silk. “And you certainly look like the chaotic type.”

Jinx grinned wider, her confidence surging. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m not just chaos—I’m a full-blown explosion.”

The two of you spent the night trading flirty remarks and playful banter, the tension between you crackling like a lit fuse. Jinx couldn’t believe her luck. You weren’t just a pretty face. But you had a fiery, explosive personality to match. You were bold, unapologetic, and just as dangerous as you were beautiful. At one point, she leaned in close, her lips brushing against your ear as she murmured, “So… what’s it like knowing the whole damn world’s obsessed with you?”

You laughed, the sound low and sultry. “I don’t mind the attention,” you said, turning your head so your lips were almost touching hers. “But right now, I’m more interested in you.” Jinx’s heart nearly stopped.

Back at her lair, were things escalated rather quickly. Jinx couldn’t keep her hands off you, tracing every curve and line of your body like she was memorizing you. Her fingers lingered on your hips, her lips trailing heated kisses along your neck as she whispered breathless praises. “You’re even better than the posters,” she murmured, her voice filled with wonder. “Didn’t think that was possible.”

You teased her with your signature confidence, your voice dripping with flirtation as you pulled her closer. “So you’ve been staring at my posters, huh? What did you think about me?”

Jinx blushed, but she didn’t back down. Instead, she grinned wickedly, her fingers tightening on your waist. “Thought about all the things I’d do if I ever got you alone,” she said, her tone low and rough. “And now, I’m not holding back.”

The tension was electric, charged with the crackling hum of her inventions and the intensity of her gaze on you. She had been teasing you mercilessly all evening, brushing her hands against your skin, dropping flirty remarks that sent heat pooling low in your belly. You could feel the mischief radiating off her as she twirled one of her newest creations in her hand. It was a bright, colorful pleasure device she'd been gushing about for days. Jinx loved experimenting, and tonight, you were her favorite subject.

She grinned at you, her sharp, mischievous grin that made your heart race every time. "Alright, Sugar," she purred, tossing the toy between her hands like it was some casual gadget and not something designed to make you lose your mind. "You trust me, don't ya?"

You raised an eyebrow, trying to maintain your usual flirty composure. "You mean to tell me that thing isn't gonna explode?"

Jinx cackled, tossing her head back. "Not this time, babe! Well, probably not. But hey, if it does, at least we'll go out with a bang!" She winked, and despite your hesitation, you couldn't help but nervously laugh. "You're impossible," you murmured letting her guide you to the mattress piled high with pillows and blankets.

"And you're irresistible," she shot back, pressing you down onto the bed with a surprising gentleness for someone so wild. Her hands were steady as they traced over your skin, her fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

She leaned down, her lips brushing against your ear. "Let me take care of you, Sugar," she whispered, her voice dripping with sweetness and heat. "Promise I'll make it fun."

The first sensation was the gentle hum of the device she'd created, a soft vibration against your folds that made you arch into her touch. It was colorful and whimsical, much like Jinx herself, with blinking lights and playful patterns painted across its surface. Despite its toy-like appearance, the way it worked against your body was anything but innocent.

Her free hand skimmed over your inner thigh, her touch featherlight and maddeningly slow. The wetness pooling between your legs became impossible to ignore, and Jinx took full advantage, sliding the toy up until it pressed directly against your bundle of nerves. A slick, wet sound began filled the room, the vibrations amplifying the noise as your arousal spread. Jinx froze for a moment before bursting into a fit of laughter. "Oh, look at you," Jinx teased, her eyes bright as she watched your reaction.

"Didn't take much, huh? Bet I could've just touched you, and you'd be melting for me." You tried to retort, but the words caught in your throat as she pressed the device lower, her mischievous grin widening as your body jerked in response.

"Aw, Sugar, don't hold back," she crooned, tilting her head to the side as if studying you. "I like hearin' you. Makes it more fun for me."

Your head fell back, a moan slipping past your lips as she adjusted the settings, the vibrations intensifying. She laughed softly, her free hand stroking your thigh as if to ground you. You buried your face in your hands, mortified but too overwhelmed by the pleasure to stop her. The toy’s vibrations grew stronger, and the obscene wet noises only intensified as she moved it against you, her laughter turning into a low, appreciative hum. “Damn, you sound so good,” she murmured, her tone dipping into something more serious. “Bet I could make you scream just with this.”

Your hips bucked against the toy, your slick arousal coating it and making the sounds louder and wetter with each movement. The lewd squelching only seemed to spur Jinx on, her grin growing wider as she adjusted the settings, sending sharper bursts of pleasure through your body. “Listen to that, Sugar,” she teased, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “You’re a fuckin’ symphony for me. All wet and messy, just how I like it.”

The embarrassment of her words was quickly drowned out by the mounting pleasure, your moans growing louder as the toy worked you closer to the edge. Jinx’s free hand slipped beneath your thigh, lifting your leg to spread you open further.

“Look at you,” she said, her eyes dark with hunger as she watched the toy glisten with your slick. “So damn pretty like this. Could stare at you all day."

Her words made your cheeks flush, though you couldn't focus on embarrassment for long. Every nerve in your body was alight, the sensation of her toy paired with her teasing kisses and caresses driving you to the edge. And then she pulled it away, grinning wickedly at your gasp of frustration. "Not yet, Sugar," she said, clicking her tongue. "I'm not done playin' with you."

She shifted her attention, leaning down to press her lips against your neck. Her kisses were hot and open-mouthed, her teeth nipping at the sensitive skin. You felt her grin against your throat when you whimpered, your hands clutching the sheets beneath you. Her lips found your collarbone, her teeth sinking into the delicate skin to leave another mark.

"Gotta leave my mark," she murmured between kisses, sucking a particularly dark bruise just below your jaw. "Let everyone know you’re mine. My perfect, messy little bombshell.” Her words sent a shiver down your spine, but you hesitated, your modeling career flashing through your mind. "Jinx, I..."

She pulled back, her wide, manic eyes locking with yours. "Aw, don't worry about all that fancy-shmancy stuff," she said, her voice teasing but with an edge of sincerity. "Bet they'll just airbrush it or whatever. C'mon, Sugar, lemme have my fun."

Your protests melted away as she kissed you again, this time harder, deeper, her hands pinning your wrists above your head. The way she looked at you, like you were the most precious thing she'd ever seen, made your resolve crumble. "Fine," you murmured, breathless. "Do your worst."

Her grin was feral. "Oh, babe, you asked for it." Jinx worked her way across your body, leaving a trail of marks in her wake on your neck, your collarbone, and the valley between of your chest. Each one was a testament to her possessiveness, her need to claim you in a way that went beyond words. "You're gonna look so pretty tomorrow," she murmured, her hands and lips everywhere at once. "Walkin' around all marked up, like a damn work of art."

You couldn't even bring yourself to care about the consequences anymore. Her touch was overwhelming, every kiss and bite sending jolts of pleasure through you. She alternated between using her toy and her hands, keeping you teetering on the edge but never quite letting you fall. "Beg for it," she whispered, her voice dark and playful as she hovered above you. "C'mon, Sugar, lemme hear it. Tell me how bad you want me to finish you off."

Your pride wavered, but the need coursing through you won out. "Please, Jinx," you gasped, your voice shaking. "I need you. Please."

She chuckled, clearly satisfied with your quick surrender. "That's more like it," she said, finally pressing the toy back against you. The sensation was overwhelming, and this time, she didn't stop, driving you higher and higher until you finally shattered, a cry escaping your lips as you came undone beneath her. Jinx didn't stop right away, drawing out your pleasure until you were trembling, your body spent and your mind hazy.

When she finally set the toy aside, she crawled up beside you, pulling you into her arms with surprising gentleness. "See?" she murmured, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "Told ya it'd be fun."

You tilted your head up to meet her gaze, a small smile playing on your lips despite your exhaustion. "Guess I'm stuck with you then," you teased, your flirty nature peeking through even now.

Jinx grinned, her signature chaos in her expression, but there was something softer there, something that tugged at your heart. "Damn right you are. You're mine, babe. Every last gorgeous inch of you." Her fingers danced across your body, tracing the bruises she'd left, her eyes filled with pride as she admired her handiwork. You shivered under her touch, the sensitivity from her earlier teasing still lingering.

"Look at this," she mused, her tone somewhere between awe and glee. "You're a freakin' masterpiece, Sugar. Better than any of those shiny posters they plaster all over Piltover and Zaun."

You couldn't help but laugh softly, the sound weak but genuine. "You think so?"

"I know so," she said firmly, leaning down to nuzzle her face into your neck. "They see the bombshell, the glitz, and the glam, but I get this. I get the real you, all wrecked and perfect just for me." Her words sent warmth spreading through your chest, the vulnerability beneath her usual bravado making your heart ache. You reached up to cup her face, your thumb brushing against her cheek. "You're too good to me, you know that?"

Jinx snorted, pulling back just enough to smirk at you. "Too good? Babe, I'm a menace. But I guess l've got a soft spot for you."

"Lucky me," you teased, letting your fingers trail down to the nape of her neck. She leaned into your touch, her grin softening into something sweeter. "Damn right. You're the luckiest gal in all of Piltover, Zaun, maybe even Noxus." Her playful boasting earned another laugh from you, and she kissed you again, slower this time, her earlier fire giving way to something gentler. The kiss lingered, her lips moving against yours with a tenderness that made your chest tighten.

When she finally pulled away, she flopped down beside you, pulling you into her arms as if she couldn't bear to let you go. You rested your head on her chest, listening to the steady thrum of her heartbeat as your body relaxed into hers.

"Y'know," Jinx murmured, her fingers lazily tracing patterns on your back, "I used to look at those big, fancy posters of you and think, ‘She's way too good for someone like me!"

You tilted your head up to look at her, surprised by her confession. "Jinx..."

"But then I thought," she continued, her voice growing steadier, "what's life without a little chaos, right? And lucky for me, you're just as explosive as I am." Her words brought a smile to your lips, and you reached up to brush a strand of blue hair from her face. "Guess we make a pretty good match then, huh?"

She grinned, her manic energy shining through even in this quiet moment. "The best, Sugar." As the adrenaline from earlier began to fade, you let yourself sink into the warmth of her embrace, her steady presence grounding you. Despite the chaos that always seemed to follow Jinx, moments like this reminded you why you'd fallen for her in the first place.

banner: @anitalenia

taglist: @blazemaster4014 @st6rship @axoluxy @1nakitofan @redskye11 @cxcilla @evneedshozierrn @vulgarfuckinvirgo77 @raspberry-lava @alduinworldeater11 @m00nd0v3 @idk2anym @emmy21842 @ladey @keysmashsstuff @blkmystery

[lesmana-enterprise-ltd]

TÉRAS Bar And Lounge @ Aperina Hotel, Arts Quarter, San Myshuno (NO CC)

About the Venue

Welcome to TÉRAS Bar and Lounge, the latest luxurious private rooftop venue by Lesmana Enterprise. Perched above the vibrant city skyline, this elegantly designed bar offers a blend of contemporary and traditional elements, creating an intimate ambiance for guests. Featuring private lounges, a sophisticated interior with warm lighting, a grand piano for live performances, and a stunning tree centerpiece, TÉRAS provides an elevated experience. Whether you're sipping cocktails under the stars or enjoying the chic indoor bar and stage, TÉRAS is where luxury meets modern nightlife.

We would also like to personally thank @essenite for the suggestion to build a rooftop venue in Arts Quarter.

Viewing the City and The Bastion Spire

With stunning views of the Bastion Spire, this chic venue combines modern design with intimate luxury. Enjoy handcrafted cocktails, live performances by the grand piano, and relax in private lounges—all under the city lights. Experience the perfect blend of elegance and nightlife at TÉRAS.

We Bought the Whole Building - Introducing Aperina Hotel

Lesmana Enterprise recently acquired the Arts Quarter Fountainview building, transforming it into the Aperina Hotel, a luxurious destination for travelers and business professionals alike. Blending historic charm with modern amenities, the Aperina Hotel is a testament to the Lesmana family’s commitment to revitalizing urban spaces while maintaining a connection to the city’s architectural heritage.

Packs Required

Download

Thanks to @shesthespinstersimmer, The Lesmana Enterprise now has SFS!

Follow this link to download the build.

Download Here (Gdrive)

Sul Sul!,

The Lesmana Enterprise Co., Ltd.

[unboundprompts]

Hi do you by chance have any prompts for describing the city (especially at night)? I'm looking for like a futuristic fantasy setting if that makes sense. Thanks!

Describing a City at Night

-> feel free to edit as you see fit.

The city glowed with neon veins, casting a strange, electric light over towering spires that scraped the sky. Holographic advertisements danced across windows while streams of fog curled through alleyways like rivers of light. Above, drones drifted lazily, their shadows weaving patterns on the streets below, creating an endless maze of pulsing, glowing reflections.

The skyline stretched sharp and unbroken, towers of glass and steel rising in clean, geometric lines against the sky. Windows glowed softly, each one a story of someone working late or an empty office left on standby.

In the dead of night, the city seemed to take on a different rhythm: quiet but with an underlying hum of energy. Few people walked the streets, but the occasional flicker of a phone screen or quiet murmur from an all-night café hinted at life. The shadows of the alleys were cut by security lights, giving them a strobe-lit effect, while the dull glow from rooftop gardens and balconies softened the city’s sharp edges.

A canal snaked through the heart of the city, the water dark and reflecting neon signs from towering skyscrapers above. Sleek boats glided quietly, transporting passengers between stops along the waterfront, each boat’s headlights cutting clean lines through the night. Pedestrians strolled along the edge, pausing to take photos or enjoy the city’s lights reflected in the gentle ripples below.

Even at 3 a.m., the city streets were alive, the constant flow of traffic muted yet steady as it moved beneath rows of LED streetlights. All-night coffee shops and convenience stores dotted the blocks, their windows spilling soft light onto the sidewalk. Pedestrians, many lost in their own world of screens and earbuds, walked with purpose, the occasional laughter or conversation blending into the endless hum of the city’s heartbeat.

[meleeyz]

┈﹒ ꒰ 𝗚𝗢𝗟𝗗𝗘𝗡 𝗖𝗔𝗚𝗘, 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡 𝑜𝑛𝑒 ꒱

ekko 𝒙 fem!reader

୨୧ English is not my first language, so I regret in advance if something reads weird or is misspelled

୨୧ Perhaps this is too dramatic for some ;)

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

Night in Piltover was quiet elegance, the kind that dripped with wealth and feigned perfection. Stars winked above, their light reflected by the towering spires and crystalline windows of the city. But tonight, amidst the gleaming grandeur, a soft tension thrummed in the cool air. Beneath the golden glow of lanterns, your white dress shimmered like starlight incarnate, its delicate embroidery and flowing silk whispering wealth and purity. You felt like an angel about to take a leap into the unknown—or a cage.

Inside the grand church, the air was heavy with anticipation. The pews were filled with Piltie elite, their fine attire and sparkling jewels a contrast to the warmth you wished for but couldn’t find. Beside you stood your almost-husband, the epitome of Piltover’s carefully curated perfection. He smiled at you, his expression more practiced than earnest, as if your presence were just another acquisition in his long list of accomplishments.

You hated it.

Your heart didn’t flutter for him. It raced for someone else—a boy who shouldn’t even have made it to this part of the city. Ekko. The name was like a secret melody in your mind, one only you could hear.

He wasn’t here yet, but he’d promised he’d come. He’d promised to take you away from this sham of a life, from this hollow marriage and suffocating world of pristine surfaces and rotting cores.

Yet, as you waited, time ticked on mercilessly.

Across the street, atop a marble rooftop, Ekko crouched in the shadows, barely breathing. From his perch, the church looked unreal, like something out of a fairy tale he’d long stopped believing in. And there you were at its heart, radiant in your white dress.

His “Firefly.”

You glowed brighter than anything he’d ever seen in Zaun. Brighter than the neon signs that buzzed and sputtered in the Sump, brighter than the firelight his crew wielded against the darkness. You weren’t just his light; you were his hope. And that terrified him.

What was he doing here? How could he possibly ask you to leave this behind—to leave safety, luxury, and a future so carefully paved for you? What could he give you, really? A life in the Undercity, filled with danger and constant struggle? A target painted on your back because of who he was and what he fought for?

Ekko’s fists clenched at his sides, his nails digging into his palms. He’d planned it all out—how he’d swoop in, crash the wedding, and take you with him. But now, paralyzed by his own doubts, all he could do was watch as your future was written without him.

Inside the church, your heart thudded painfully against your ribs. Every second that passed chipped away at the fragile hope you clung to.

“Are you all right, my dear?” your fiancé asked, his tone smooth but empty. It was the voice of someone who didn’t really care for the answer.

“I’m fine,” you replied, though your throat felt tight, and your words came out more brittle than you intended.

His brow arched slightly, and a polite chuckle escaped his lips.

“Are you waiting for someone?”

You froze, your mind racing for a lie.

“No,” you said quickly, shaking your head. “Just…nerves.”

If he saw through you, he didn’t show it. Instead, he nodded, his focus already drifting back to the priest at the altar.

“Speak now or forever hold your peace,” the priest intoned, his voice echoing through the cavernous space.

Your breath caught, your fingers curling into the delicate fabric of your dress. This was it. This was the moment. You turned toward the church doors, your eyes scanning the shadows outside for any sign of him.

Please, Ekko. Please don’t let me make this mistake.

But all you saw was the flicker of green light, distant and fleeting.

He was gone.

Ekko didn’t dare look back.

His hoverboard zipped through the alleyways, a glowing streak in the dark. Every instinct screamed at him to turn around, to run back into that church and fight for you, to whisk you away like he’d promised. But he couldn’t do it. He wasn’t good enough, wasn’t strong enough, wasn’t enough.

“She deserves better,” he muttered under his breath, his voice cracking. “She deserves better than me.”

His words rang hollow, and the weight of them nearly made him falter. But the hoverboard carried him forward, away from the world you belonged to and deeper into the place he called home.

Your heart shattered, splintering into a thousand jagged pieces as you realized he wasn’t coming. He had left you here, in this gilded prison, to face a future you didn’t want.

The priest’s words barely registered as he continued the ceremony, and when your fiancé slipped the ring onto your trembling finger, you didn’t protest. What was the point?

Yet, as you repeated the vows, your voice was hollow. The promises felt like lies falling from your lips, each one carving another scar into your heart.

In that moment, you hated Ekko. You hated him for giving you hope, for making you believe there was something more, for making you love him so deeply that the absence of him felt like drowning. But more than that, you hated yourself for still loving him, even now.

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

[queff-boi]

Like him?

This is part 2

Summary: born from a secret lab experiment, you were a genetic hybrid of Kryptonian and human DNA, a sibling to conner kent. While conner was rescued and welcomed into Superman’s world, you were left behind, a discarded byproduct of lex luther's ambition and clark kent's indifference.

…………………………………………………………………………………..

You were never meant to be a hero.

Lex Luthor made sure of that when he left you behind in this tomb of failed experiments. And Clark Kent—Superman, the man who called himself your father—hadn’t even tried to save you.

The bitterness in your chest feels heavier with each passing moment. You tear your gaze away from the mirror and clench your fists.

“Forget him,” you mutter to yourself. “Forget all of them.”

But forgetting is easier said than done.

You leave Metropolis behind, its bright lights and promises of hope suffocating in their hypocrisy. Your powers carry you far, until the towering spires of Gotham City come into view. The city is a stark contrast to Metropolis—dark, chaotic, and alive in ways you’d never experienced.

It’s here that you encounter Bruce Wayne.

It starts with a misunderstanding. One night, while wandering Gotham’s rooftops, you find yourself in the middle of a skirmish between Batman and a group of thugs. You don’t intervene—at least, not at first. But when one of the thugs pulls a gun, something in you snaps. Without thinking, you throw yourself into the fight, using your powers to disarm the group in seconds.

Batman watches you carefully as the dust settles, his sharp eyes narrowing.

“You’re not from around here,” he says, his tone even but wary.

“Just passing through,” you reply, shrugging.

“Metropolis?” he asks, as if he already knows the answer.

You hesitate, the name twisting in your chest. “Not anymore.”

………………………………………..

You begin working alongside the Batfam, and for the first time, you feel like you belong. Dick becomes a mentor of sorts, helping you channel your anger into something productive. Jason becomes an unlikely confidant, his own troubled past makes him understand your struggles.

But the more you settle into Gotham, the more you feel the weight of your unresolved past.

……………………………………………..…………………………………..

(A/n sorry if this is bad)

[windienine]

befriend rats & kill god in a lush portal fantasy adventure by jenna moran

come on a journey with me?

there - past the scaffolding, past the rafters, up above past the windows and gables and fire escapes, if you make it to the roofs -

you'll encounter environments not of this world. rooftop gardens that have twisted themselves into dense forests, church spires that have , tiled expanses that stretch into the horizon and become meadows, gutter-lakes, deserts, mountains...

you'll encounter them, too, if you really look: the rats.

they want to show you these places, navigate them, map them, study them, know them. they want to befriend you, guide you, tell you their stories and weave new ones where you feature alongside them. if you want to make any headway, up there on the roofs, you'll need their help.

after all,

this is a place where the gods do tread. if they find you creeping about their domains, they will find you, kill you, transform you, dig their hooks into your very soul and never let go.

the rats know a secret.

gods can be killed.

you are the key.

the far roofs, currently crowdfunding, is home to some of the best role-playing game i've ever had. participating in several playtests has completely sold me on its viability as a system. notable are its set of unique oracle mechanics that tie into its freeform roleplay system, determining the physical and emotional outcomes of different events. gather hands of cards and tiles to weave together magic that can alter even monumental fates, fight peril with dice rolls, and collect components for spells and make headway on character advancement by spending time getting to know your companions, both human and murine.

it is, of course, written by dr. jenna moran, best known for previous innovative ttrpg experiences about divinity, such as nobilis, glitch, chuubo's marvelous wish-granting engine, and wisher, theurger, fatalist (WTF).

the philosophy of the far roofs is that dungeoneering is about the journey - the sights you see, the meals you make, the tales you tell, the companions you gain and lose - as much as the monster-slaying. each combat is a descriptive crescendo of the experiences faced up until that point, encompassing everything you've felt thus far. if any of this intrigues you, then, well... come on a journey with me?

[nomie-11]

I Only Have Eyes for You

masterlist!

synopsis: based on the song 'i only have eyes for you' by the flamingos--vi doesn't need anyone else, she only has eyes for you

pairings: vi x reader

~My love must be a kind of blind love I can’t see anyone but you~

Vi’s favorite song on the jukebox was a song you were very familiar with. On nights that Vander closed early, Powder would put her favorite song on first—a song with an upbeat tilt that reminded her of her mother—and hum to herself as she tinkered on whatever gadget she was working on. And then Vi would put her song on next. 

The song’s familiar slow beat and low harmonies would echo over the empty bar, and Vi would let the sound of her favorite song wash over her, watching as you helped Vander wipe down another table, or polish another glass. 

Vi leaned her shoulder against the corner of the bar, her ever-present smirk softened by the warm, flickering light of the lanterns. As the familiar opening notes of her song played, she let her gaze settle on you. You were in your own world, wiping down tables with practiced ease, your movements smooth and rhythmic, in tune with the music. The sound of the jukebox seemed to draw a small smile from you as you worked, and Vi couldn’t look away. 

She didn’t need to, really—her world had narrowed down to just you. Everything else—the creak of the bar stools, Vander’s heavy footsteps, even the faint metallic clink of Powder’s tools in the corner—blurred into nothing. She didn’t care that the room was still scattered with the remnants of another night at The Last Drop. She couldn’t see the mess or the dimness of the space. All she could see was the way the light caught the curve of your jaw, the focused look in your eyes as you worked, and the soft curl of your lips when the song reached its first crescendo. 

“Do you even know how distracting you are?” Vi teased softly, her voice cutting gently through the swelling melody. 

You glanced over your shoulder at her, the smile now fully formed. The dim, warm lights of the bar caught the glimmer in your eyes, and Vi felt her heart stutter. “You don’t have to watch me so intently, you know.” 

But Vi never stopped. 

~Are the stars out tonight I don’t know if it’s cloudy or bright I only have eyes for you dear The moon may be high  But I can’t see a thing in the sky I only have eyes for you~

The streets of Zaun always felt alive, no matter the time of night. Neon signs flickered weakly against the haze of chem-fog, and the distant hum of machinery created an uneven rhythm beneath the bustle of the underground. But the world outside the rooftop above the bar felt distant tonight. 

The two of you sat side by side, legs dangling off the edge of the roof, a threadbare blanket draped over your lap. Your head rested gently on her strong shoulder as you looked out over the skyline. 

Vi wasn’t watching the skyline, though. She wasn’t watching the flickering signs or the faint glow of Piltover’s towering spires in the distance. She was preoccupied with watching you. 

The way your eyelashes fluttered as you blinked, your profile illuminated by the faint shimmer of light reflected in the chem-fog. She didn’t know if the stars were out tonight—they were so rarely visible in Zaun, anyways—but it didn’t matter. You were here, and you were brighter than anything the sky could offer. 

You signed, the sound soft and content as you melted into her side, into the quiet between you. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like up there?” you asked, tilting your head to gesture toward the faintly glowing haze above Piltover. 

Vi hummed, leaning into you just a little. “Sometimes,” she admitted. “But I’d rather be right here.” 

You turned to her, a curious smile tugging at your lips. “Even with all of this?” you gestured vaguely to the city below, its broken beauty a stark contrast to the pristine world above. 

Vi reached up, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Her fingers lingered, warm against your skin, as her gaze softened. “Even with all of this,” she said. “I only need one bright spot to make everything else fade away.” 

The words hung in the air, heavy and warm, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Then, with a quiet laugh, you snaked your hand around her waist, pulling yourself close in to her side. “You’re such a sap.” 

Vi grinned, her confidence returning. “Maybe. But I’m your kind of sap.” 

The laughter that spilled from your lips was the sweetest sound she’d ever heard. 

~I don’t know if we’re in a garden  Or on a crowded avenue You are here And so am I~

Your lilting laugh filled the quiet night, your arms wrapped around her neck as her arms rested gently on your waist. There was no music playing, and the lights on the dock were dim, but neither of you seemed to care as she spun you in a gentle circle. 

The world beyond the docks disappeared entirely as Vi pulled you closer, her calloused hands steady against the small of your back. Her grin softened into something tender, the flicker of vulnerability in her eyes betraying just how much this moment meant to her. 

“Dancing without music?” you teased, tilting your head as you looked up at her. “That’s a little cliché, don’t you think?” 

Vi chuckled, her low laugh blending into the hum of the night around you. “Maybe, but clichés exist for a reason,” she responded, her voice soft, but still her familiar firm tone. “Besides, who needs music when I’ve got this?” 

She tapped her fingers gently against your side, her touch following the rhythm of the song that played in her mind. The one she couldn’t stop hearing whenever she was near you. 

“You’re imagining that song right now, aren't you?” you guessed, catching the faintest curve of her lips. 

Vi shrugged, her gaze holding yours with an intensity that made your chest ache in the best way. “Maybe I am, or maybe I’m just trying to remember every second of this so I never forget it.” 

You felt your breath hitch, her words settling deep in your heart. The moonlight caught the red in her hair and the softness in her powder blue eyes, and you felt the familiar tug of warmth that always came with her being near. Without thinking, you let your forehead rest gently against hers, your movements slowing until the two of you were barely swaying. 

“I don’t think I ever want to forget this either,” you admitted, your voice barely louder than a whisper. 

Vi’s lips parted slightly, and for a moment, her usual bravado was gone. “Good,” she murmured, her thumb brushing an idle pattern against your side. “I don’t plan on letting it go.” 

The night around you stretched endlessly, the world below quiet and far away, as though it didn’t exist at all. As you danced beneath the moonlight, her favorite song played on repeat in her head. 

She didn’t need stars or music or the pristine towers of Piltover to make the moment perfect. 

She only had eyes for you. 

~Maybe millions of people go by But they all disappear from view And I only have eyes for you.~

i feel like im begging when i say this but if you like my writing please let me know i love validation

If you enjoyed this one shot, please check out my other series!

[justanothermemestrider]

Nothing Ever Stays Dead - Part 3

Okay.

Is this part basically that one scene from Arcane with Jinx and the flare? Yes. Yes it is.

Did I listen to Guns for Hire by Woodkid nonstop while I was writing this? Yes. Yes I did.

Am I ashamed? Absolutely not XD

Thank you guys so so much for the support this fic has received so far. I've been having an absolute blast writing it, and that's largely because I know you guys have been enjoying it. So thank you :)

Oh also, you missed part 2, all good, you can read it here

As usual, there is violence, angst and general 40kness under the cut, as well as hella lore inaccuracies both for the sake of the story and bc research is hard (I did try, though lol). Apologies for any spelling and grammar mistakes.

Thanks so much for reading and I sincerely hope you enjoy!

"Down there. You see them?"

Ellicent followed Gadriel's outstretched hand with the optical scope. She adjusted the knob on its top, focusing the lens on where his index finger was pointing.

Her eyes widened. "No way."

"Oh yes, " Gadriel chuckled. "I've been following them all day."

Ellicent lowered the scope to look at him. "The hell are a bunch of topsiders doing all the way down here?"

Gadriel shrugged. "Same reason people go to zoos, maybe?"

Ellicent rolled her eyes. "Har har." Crouching on the edge of the rooftop now, she put her eye to the scope once again. The tourists looked like Mid-hivers: merchants, maybe, other some other kind of artisan-type. No where near as wealthy as those who lived in the spires, but compared to what those in the Underhive had, they might as well have been. There are two groups of them- roughly three in each. They're walking on opposite sides of the street, as if pretending not to know each other. With their real-cotton clothing and long embroidered coats, however, they're more than conspicuous anyway.

"Seriously though," Ellicent said. "What are they doing down here?"

"If I had to guess? They want to hit the marketplace."

"You mean the black marketplace?"

"Guess there are still things topside doesn't have that we do."

"Yeah. It's nothing good, though"

"Who knows, then," Gadriel said. From his tone, Ellicent could tell that he had no interest in discussing the topic any further. She rose to her feet, folding the scope up and handing it back to him. "So. What's the plan?"

"Simple pickpocket, I think. Anything too loud, and we risk alerting the Arbites."

Ellicent nodded. "One group each?"

"Yeah. But we'll stagger it. Make it look random, lest they think we're working together."

"Gotcha."

Gadriel smiled. "One other thing." He stuffed the scope in his trouser pocket, then opened his jacket and reached into the pocket sewn into the lining. From it, he extracted two, metal objects. Ellicent thought they looked a little like pistols. She looked at him sharply. "What are those?"

Reading the expression on her face, Gadriel shook his head. "Don't worry. They're only flare guns."

"Flare guns?"

"Yeah. You know, the things soldiers use to signal each other with? They shoot a big bright light into the-"

"I know what a flare gun is, Gadriel," Ellicent said. "What I don't know is where the hell you got two of them from."

"Same place I got the scope from."

"Which was?"

Gadriel chewed the inside of his cheek- the way he always does when he's thinking. "Do you remember... uh... you remember that Arbites supply drop that landed the other day... "

Ellicent's mouth fell open. "You didn't."

He shrugged. The non chalance of the gesture absolutely infuriated her. "Gadriel!" she hissed.

"I know I know," he said. "And before you say it, yes, if the Ultramarines were to somehow hear about it, they'd never let me join."

Ellicent hadn't been about to say that. Now that she'd heard it, though, she couldn't resist. "If that's the case, maybe I should tell them," she muttered.

Anger flushed Gadriel's face. But after a second or two, it fades into resignation. "Ellie," he said. "Can we please not do this now?"

Ellicent clenched her jaw. On her tongue, a retort waited impatiently to be spoken. But in the end, she swallowed it. As grated as she was feeling, she also empathised with him: she didn't want to do this right now, either.

Gingerly, she reached towards him, plucking one of the flare guns from his hands. She held it up to her face, rotating it in her grip as she examined it "What have you got these for, anyway?" she asked. "If their not good for sticking up the top siders, why do we need them?"

A silent "Thank you" flashed across Gadriel's face. Then, holding up the remaining flare gun, he said. "I thought we could use them as warning signals. You know for when we're not together. If you were to find yourself alone anywhere and you needed me, you just fire it in the air, and I'll come find you. I'll do the same with mine."

Ellicent tested the device's grip in her hand. Felt just like holding a pistol, except lighter. "Are they loaded?"

"Yes. But I wasn't able to get any other shells for them. The only one they've got is the one in the chamber."

Ellicent smirked. "So it's only a one use thing?"

Gadriel's cheeks coloured slightly. "It's better than nothing," he replied.

Ellicent rolled her eyes again. But, nevertheless, she decided to humour him and pocketed the device anyway. "Was there anything else?" she asked him.

Gadriel shook his head. "No."

"Time we earn ourselves dinner, then. I'll hit my topsiders first?"

"As always."

Ellicent gave him a smile. Stepping in close, she wrapped her arms around his neck while he wrapped his around her waist. Craning her neck slightly, she kissed him hard on the lips. "Be careful," she whispered.

"You too," he said.

Without another word, they parted ways; Ellicent scampering down to the street while Gadriel followed from the rooftops.

* * * * ** * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

That little job had gone off without a hitch. Ellicent had chosen the mid-hiver in the middle of her group: a fat man in a three piece suit and a ridiculously large moustache. She'd pretended to be a beggar, stumbling out of an alleyway and shoulder checking the old man. As he struggled and swore, trying to shove her off him, Ellicent had swiped a purse from the inside of his coat. There'd been an entire handful of gold in there. Between that and what Gadriel had scored from his group, and they'd been fed for two whole weeks.

She hadn't need her flare that day. And for all the days that followed, she hadn't needed it either. But she'd kept it anyway. Even after Gadriel left and never came back. Even after her life became the hell scape that it is now, and the last of her hope had shrivelled and died, she'd kept it. Just in case. Just in case she needed it.

Just in case she needed him.

Just like the day he had given it to her, Ellicent stands on the edge of a rooftop. She doesn't know what sort of building this is: only that it's the tallest she could find in the time she had. Her gauss cannon was heavy on her shoulder- the alien gun was almost as big as her- but she couldn't not leave without it. Even if Gadriel didn't come, Severus almost certainly would. He knows about the flare. When he sees it, he'll know what it means, she's trying to do, and he'll want to kill her for it.

It's not worth it, her mind tries to reason. It wasn't even him. You know it wasn't.

That's the thing, though, she argues. I don't know. That's why I've gotta try.

Just in case.

Ellicent clasps the flare gun in both hands. Rests a finger on the trigger. Slowly, almost cautiously, she raises the device above her head.

If you were to ever find yourself alone... just fire it in the air, and I'll come find you.

Anxiety is a serpent in her gut, wet, heavy and slithering. Her throat is dry as sand and as she clutches the flare gun its metal clatters from how much she's trembling.

Just fire it...

... I'll come find you.

Before she has the chance to have a second thought, Ellicent squeezes the trigger.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

The flare shines more brightly than any star or ship light. Its smoke is the colour of blood; its light, that of a bleeding heart. It hurts Ellicent's eyes to stare at it, but she can't being herself to look away. Half an hour, it burns for. Feels longer. Like an eternity. Like another fifty years. Hope and despair war within Ellicent's chest as she watches it. She doesn't know which is winning, they're both so evenly matched.

The smoke is the first to dissipate. Shedding layer upon layer until its colour is no longer discernable. The flare hangs on a little longer, spitting and spluttering like a soul clinging onto life. But, eventually, it too runs out of strength. Ellie watches it tumble from the sky, a shrivelled blackened husk of solid ash. The dark of night returns with a vengeance, and all Ellicent is left with is a hazy, silhouetted view of the city's jagged skyline. Tears prick her eyes. Seems the war in her chest finally has a winner.

"Stupid," she whispers. Dropping her arm, she looks at the empty flare gun. Her lip curls with contempt. With all the strength she has left, she hurls the thing off the rooftop. "Stupid!" she shouts after it. The only reply she receives is deafening, sickening silence.

Ellicent covers her face with her hands. Another self-reprimand is already poised on her lips, but when she opens her mouth to voice, the only thing that comes out is a sob.

Stupid girl, she thinks to herself. What were you thinking?

The plating of her necronian hand is freezing against her face. She presses it so hard into her brow, that she reopens the cut that Severus had given her just hours earlier.

It wasn't him. It was never him.

He's gone.

He left you.

He's never coming back.

So consuming is her anguish, that Ellicent doesn't hear the footsteps coming up behind her. Even if she did, though, she wouldn't have reacted. Only person it can be is Severus- if he's going to kill her, she'd rather his face not be the last thing she ever sees.

Then she hears his voice.

"Ellie?"

Ellicent's heart stops dead in her chest. She drops her hands from her face.

It's not him, her thoughts cry. It's not him. It's not him. It's not-

Ellicent turns around.

She has to look up to see his face. He'd always been a little taller than her, but whatever procedure the Astartes use to turn boys into Angels of Death has swollen his body to almost five times its original size. Dust and grime stain his blue armour. The aquillia on his chest is severed down the middle by the particle beam she'd fired at him earlier that same day. The right side of his head is a mottled mess of angry red skin and silver cybernetic studs.

But, just like his voice, his face is just as she remembers.

"Gadriel," she whispers.

His face is a riot of emotion. Shock, disbelief, sadness, joy, everything else in between.

Gadriel walks up to her with hulking steps, heavy enough to shake the roof. They bring Ellicent back to the night's on the roof of his mother's house; how it too, would rattle and shake under his weight. Dropping to one knee, he sets his hands on her shoulders. The ceramite gauntlets they're encased in are cold and heavy.

His expression, though, is anything but.

"Oh, Ellie."

Before Ellicent can speak, he embraces her. Careful not to bruise her on his armour, crouching low enough that her head can reach his neck.

At first, Ellicent doesn't react. She doesn't know how. Her mind is still playing catch up. Trying to process what's happening, what it means, whether or not it's even...

"Is this real?" Her voice is weak and frayed. It feels like her mouth is full of broken glass. "Are you really here?"

Gadriel draws away and slips his thumb under her chin. As gentle as if she were made of porcelain, he tilts her head up so he can look her in the eye.

"Yes," he says softly. "It's me. Gadriel. I'm here. I'm right here."

Ellicent's heart detonates. A fresh wave of sobs rises up in the back of her throat. The first one escapes as something crosses between a whimper and a cry. She throws her arms around his neck. Buries her face in its crook. Breathes in his scent and feels his skin against hers.

It's him. It's really him.

Her sobs return stronger than before; almost enough to knock her off her feet. This time, though, they are not of despair. They are of sheer, unadulterated joy.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Gadriel does not remember the last time he'd been embraced. He doesn't remember the last time he'd given one, either. Astartes do not partake in such displays of affection. Forearm grips and shoulder clasps were common enough, but anything more than that is just simply not done. Such things are for humans- for families, friends and lovers- and Astartes are not human.

That message has been drilled into Gadriel ever since he had joined the Ultramarines; ever since he was eighteen years old. And yet, when he sees Ellie standing on that rooftop- the tears in her eyes, the blood on her brow, the emotion on her face- he wasn't an Astartes anymore. He was a teenager. A boy. Back in the Underhive, on the roof of his mother's slum, staring up at the stars with the girl he loved curled up in his arms. Like his cheek-chewing habit, these are things that his re-education could not stamp out. It may have quietened them, covered them, forced them into the recesses of his thoughts. But they were always there. And while first seeing Ellie had awoken them, the sight of her flare and the sight of her standing before him now brings them to the very forefront of his mind.

Gadriel holds Ellie as tightly as he can without crushing her against his armour. Her tears are hot against his skin. Her arms, both human and robotic, squeeze his neck so tight it actually hurts. But Gadriel couldn't have been happier. He doesn't think he's ever been happier. Not since the last time he had held her; the last time he had been human.

That's it. That was the last time I was embraced.

It had been her...

Gadriel's eyes start to sting. Before the tears can fall, he buries his face into Ellie's hair. But the feel of it, the smell, the memories they both bring flooding back, only chokes him up more.

"I can't believe you're here," he breathes. "I... I thought you were dead."

A shudder runs through Ellie's body. It's difficult to tell, but Gadriel thinks it might be a laugh. "Yeah," she says meekly. "Yeah, I've thought that a few times myself, too."

The quip takes him completely off guard. Despite himself, he lets out a short choked laugh of his own. "I... Throne, Ellie. I can't even..."

"Things changed when you left," she said. The way her voice breaks across the words wrench Gadriel's hearts like nothing he's ever felt before. "I changed."

Drawing away from her slightly, Gadriel frames her cheek with one, enormous hand. Throne, she looks so small. Small and fragile. Nothing like the tough young woman he remembered. "I know, Ellie," he whispers. "I know. But it's not your fault. You did what you had to to survive. I know you did."

Ellie's arms unfurl from his neck and fall to her side. The leather tunic she wears is sleeveless, giving Gadriel a full, unimpeded view of her necronian left arm. The grafting is expert, but untidy. The edge where it attaches to her clavicle, shoulder and chest is ribbed with scar tissue. As her shoulders tremble in time with her sobs, that tissue stretches and flexes, as if they were wires buried underneath her skin.

"Where have you been, Gadriel?" she asks. "You mother and I, we waited for you. We waited and waited, but you never came back."

Gadriel can't bear to look at her. Dropping his gaze to the ground, he winces as a vice closes around his chest. "I'm so sorry, Ellie. I wanted to come back, I promise I did. But..."

His voice trails off. But what? How could he possibly explain it? That he'd been forced to forget her? That his duty had left no room for him to think about anything other than service? That, as part of his transformation, his heart had not only been duplicated, by reprogrammed to beat for the Imperium instead of her?

No. He couldn't say that. Couldn't say any of it. It's not an excuse. Even though they are the truth, they don't justify what he's done. What's happened to her.

Gadriel's tongue turns to sand in his mouth. Without anything to say, any answer to give her, all he can think to do is pull Ellie into his arms again.

She does not return his embrace, this time. It's the most excruciating thing Gadriel has ever felt.

"Sergeant!"

Gadriel freezes. Under his breath, he mutters a curse.

Ellie wrenches away from him with unnatural strength and speed. Her face twists with fear and her hands reach to grasp the gauss cannon hanging from her shoulder. The weapon is too large for her to hold like a rifle, so instead, she holds it like a heavy bolter; down low and aiming from the hip. She points the weapon past Gadriel's right side, at something to his back. But Gadriel already knows what- who- it is.

"Who's he?" Ellie asks.

Steeling himself, Gadriel turns. Titus stands on the other end of the rooftop with his helmet on and his bolter raised. His face is completely hidden behind his visor's permenant glare, but Gadriel knows that whatever expression he's wearing is even fiercer than that.

Eyes never leaving Titus, Gadriel extends a palm towards Ellie. "It's alright," he says gently. "He's a friend."

"He doesn't look like a friend."

"Sergeant!" Titus' voice booms over his vox speakers. "Step away from her now!"

"Titus," Gadriel pleads. "Listen. We can work this out. "

"There is no working with heretics." The lieutenant takes a step forwards. "Get away from her now! I will not ask you again."

"I knew it," Ellie says. "I knew it was too good to be true."

Gadriel whips around. "Ellie-"

"This is a set up!" She steps away from him, levelling her cannon so both he and Titus are now in her sights. Her fingers touch the trigger, and the gaping maw of the alien gun glows a sickly green. "You're not here for me," she hisses. "You're only here for Severus. You're trying to play me!"

"That's not true." Gadriel's voice is thin and desperate. "I couldn't care less about-"

"Watch what you say, Sergeant," Titus warns.

"Damn you, Titus!" Gadriel shouts, throwing the lieutenant a vicious snarl. "Just let me-"

Ellie's shriek cut both space marines off. "Both of you shut up!"

The look in her eye, Gadriel can only describe as wild. Terror, anger, grief, pain, they're all raging within her expression. Twisting her features so terribly that for a second, Gadriel struggles to recognise her.

But he doesn't give up. He won't.

"Ellie, listen to me," he says, striding up to her. Ellie points her weapon at him, but with his forearm Gadriel shoves it to the side. "I'm here for you," he says. "Only you. I don't care about Severus. If I'd known you were here, I'd have abandoned my mission sooner.`

Ellie stares at him with wide, watering eyes. She breathes hard through her mouth. "I..."

"Fire that thing at me if you want, but I'm not going anywhere." As the next words leave his mouth, Gadriel's breath hitches in his throat. "I will not abandon you again."

He reaches for her again, this time to touch her arm. Ellie flinches from him, glaring like she's anticipating an attack, but not before Gadriel's fingertip brushes her shoulder. Startled, she steps away, the grip on her gauss cannon visibly tightening.

Gadriel swallows a mouthful of tears. "Ellie-"

"Did you hear that?"

He blinks at her. "What?"

Ellie shifts her aim away from Gadriel and points her weapon towards the sky. "That noise," she whispers. "Like humming."

Gadriel pauses to listen. She's right. If the night hadn't been so still, he doubts anyone could have heard it; but just beneath the whisper of the moving air, there is, in fact, the a slight, energetic hum. Stranger still, it's a sound Gadriel recognises. From where he isn't sure, but he can't shake the feeling he's heard such a thing before.

"Gadriel!"

He turns at Titus' voice. The lieutenant's visage is unchanged, but his tone is suddenly laced with alarm. "Get out of there, now!"

It's then that Gadriel's mind finally clicks.

The humming... It's the sound of a cloaking device.

Without a second thought, he leaps for Ellie. Grabbing her around the middle and holding her to his chest, shielding her body with his own. The moment he does, hundreds of sharp, heavy projectiles start raining upon them.

The humming sound ceases as the cloaking field disappears. In its place rise the thunder of a spacecraft and the scream of firing weaponry. Gadriel recognises both; not from experience or even from training, but from the mission brief he and his brothers had received just this morning.

"Severus is a known xenos collaborator. Specifically, he has formed some twisted working relationship with a war band of Dark Eldar..."

The thunder is the engine of a combat skiff. The screaming, the sound of shredder weapons unleashing a hellfire of razor-sharp spikes.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

And part 3 is done babyyyyyyy

Hope you liked it ^^

Part 4 should be up in a couple of days

Till then, stay safe out there kids

Taglist: @solspina @beckyninja @egrets-not-regrets @wolf-feathers12 @jaghatai-khock @lemon-russ @moodymisty @hatsubara-8chan @nereidof40k @yanagikou @fyxestroll @yurihasurunbara @lylakoi @justfreakynothingelse

[the-fiction-witch]

By The Fire

Media - Rings Of Power Character - Elrond Couple - Elrond X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - 12 Word Count -1250

Fictional Advent Day Twenty Five

Elrond stood before the ornate mirror, carefully finishing his preparations for the evening. He slipped into his fine garments, the rich fabric of his deep blue robes shimmering slightly in the light. The white accents along the edges of his attire, highlighting the intricate patterns woven into the cloth. As he pulled on his tall, polished boots, the soft leather hugged his calves snugly.

Once properly dressed, he moved to the dresser, where he selected his prized pin brooch. It glinted in the firelight, and he attached it to his robes with a steady hand. Next, he turned his attention to the bedside table, where several rings lay waiting. Each ring was unique, adorned with different gemstones that caught the light and sparkled as he slipped them onto his fingers. With a final glance in the mirror, he ensured his hair was perfectly arranged.

“Are you almost ready, my love?” He called out,

Elrond turned and found himself unable to hold back his wide smile,

The chambers were enveloped in a warm and inviting ambience, thanks to the multitude of sweetly flickering candles that adorned every surface. Their soft glow danced across the room, casting gentle shadows that wavered like whispers against the intricately carved walls. The fire in the grand hearth crackled with vigour, sending sparks into the air as it devoured the seasoned logs, its warmth spreading throughout the space and wrapping it in a comfortable embrace.

Beyond the leaded glass windows, the enchanting elven city lay cloaked in midwinter snow, a blanket of glistening white that softened the edges of the towering spires and delicate rooftops. The snowflakes twirled and swirled gracefully as they descended, creating a delicate ballet against the backdrop of the city's majestic architecture. Icy tendrils of frost framed the stained glass windows, where vibrant depictions of the sea and sky came to life, the colours glowing like jewels under the ethereal candlelight within the chamber.

Y/n settled comfortably on the plush couch, her shoes elegantly set aside, her flowing gown that cascaded around her. The fabric, a beautiful blend of deep blue and pure white, mirrored the attire worn by Elrond. Adorning her neck and wrists was an array of silver jewellery, each piece delicately crafted, glimmering softly against her skin,

Her hair was a masterpiece in itself, styled into luxurious curls and intricate braids that framed her face. A stunning golden branch hairpin held the tresses away from her features. With gentle hands, Y/n cradled her swollen baby bump, her fingers moving in soothing circles, instinctively comforting the little ones nestled within her.

Elrond scoffed as he went over kneeling in front of her and resting his hands on her own to feel her bump’s movements. “Why must you do this?”

“Do what?” Y/n laughed,

“Look so distractingly gorgeous.” He chuckled kissing her nose,

“I cannot help it,”

“I know you can’t,” he smiled, “But with your sweet bump you’re utterly irresistible.”

Y/n chuckled and allowed him to savour his time stroking the bump, “Must we go?”

“What?” he chuckled,

“Must we go today? I’m sure my father wouldn���t mind if we didn’t attend, just say the baby is too tired.”

“As adorable as that would be, you know we can’t my love.” He cooed, “Come, you know you’ll enjoy yourself.” He smiled taking her hands and helping her to her feet, “And you know how they love the snow.” he chuckled giving her bump a kiss,

Elrond smiled and helped her into her warm boots and wrapped the thick robes around her,

“Elrond! We’ll be fine.” she laughs,

“I still worry,” he cooed kissing her forehead, “Shall we my love?”

“We shall,” she nodded as she wrapped her hands around his bicep, laying her head on his shoulder and snuggled up,

Elrond grasped her hand firmly, their fingers entwined as they stepped out of their chambers. Together, they meandered through the serene, snow-covered city, the world transformed into a winter wonderland. The towers rose majestically, their spires resembling the peaks of an elaborate cake, each adorned with a delicate blanket of powdered sugar-like snow. Fluffy flakes danced gently from the sky, settling softly on the vibrant plants, ancient buildings, and the wise, weathered elven statues that stood sentinel, their features softened by the snow's embrace.

As they walked, warmth glowed from within the cosy windows of nearby homes, casting flickering shadows that played upon the pristine landscape outside. The air was filled with a tranquil hush broken only by the sound of their footsteps crunching softly on the thick carpet of snow. Together, they savoured the quiet beauty of their surroundings, a perfect reflection of the peacefulness in their hearts.

Finally, they arrived at the grand gardens where many high elves gathered savouring the traditional midwinter wines as they prepared for the feast. Musicians plaid the soft and knelt yule songs as the snow fluttered down.

Many lords and ladies came to greet them wishing sweet futures and cooing at Y/n’s bump. Many of these lords and ladies had never spoken of much less to Elrond on account of his birth and social status but all now flocked to them with warmth and joy to hear tales of her pregnancy and any news of names, kicks and arrival dates for their children.

But Y/n and Elrond staid close never leaving each others arms happy to discuss their children till dawn if needed.

The feast was soon called,

“My Daughter,” Gil-galad called opening his arms to pull Y/n into a strong hug,

“Father,” she cooed,

“How are you fairing?”

“Just fine Father, they're very happy and excited.” she cooed stroking her bump, “And Elrond is taking very good care of us,” she smiled clutching Elrond’s arm once more,

“I do my best, my love.” He smiled giving her forehead a soft kiss,

“I admit I have concerns, how well a half-elf can aid such a-”

“Father.” She warned, “He aids us perfectly,”

“That brings me peace.” He nodded,

Everyone sat at the large carved table enjoying the treats and rich meats ceremonial for this time of year. All engaging in idle chat about the festivities for the whole of the long and slow meal.

When darkness truly came to fall, all the high lords and ladies gathered in the garden before the large tree that had been growing since last yule, Elrond wrapped his arms around Y/n and set his chin on her shoulder, his hands on hers as they sat on her bump as they stood by the fire. 

They shared some tender kisses watching as the tree was set aflame and the high lords and ladies began to celebrate, they watched as the flames engulfed the tree sending the bright light into the sky and causing the snow to sparkle and glitter like diamonds, 

“Y/n, My love?” He cooed,

“Yes, Elrond darling?” she smiled,

“The next yule we have, they will be with us.” He whispered into her ear, giving her bump a soft stroke,

“They will,” she nodded, “next yule we’ll get to hold them up to see the yule tree.”

“We will. I’ll happily sit them both on my shoulders every yule for the rest of my life if I must.”

“You will?”

“I will, my love.” He nodded, “And perhaps in a few more yules I’ll get to hold your sweet bum again?”

Y/n scoffed, “We’ll see, at least let me get these two out first!” She chuckled,

“Of course,” He cooed, “Happy Yule my Love,”

“Happy Yule darling,” she smiled

The two shared, a soft and tender kiss, and a warming stroke to her bump. 

[bala5]

The Chrysler Building from the roof of the Pan Am Building, New York (1963)

In 1963, the sleek Art Deco spire of the Chrysler Building could be admired from the rooftop of the newly completed Pan Am Building, now known as the MetLife Building. Towering above the Manhattan skyline, the Chrysler Building remained a symbol of elegance and ambition, its gleaming façade reflecting the city’s spirit. The intricate terraced crown and gleaming gargoyles created a stark contrast to the modern, utilitarian design of the Pan Am Building. These two icons represented different eras of architecture, standing proudly amidst a rapidly growing metropolis. From this vantage point, you could feel the pulse of a city constantly evolving, a place where old and new always collide.

[ryokokicksit24]

A Balcony in Winter

Read on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61493278

While visiting the Winter Court Elain seeks some peace outside on a cold Solstice night. Azriel finds her and warms her up. All cozy Solstice feels on the balcony!

Text below:

The Night Court finally visited their counterparts at the Winter Court for Solstice and it was as spectacular as Mor had promised. Evergreen garlands laced with ribbons and bright red berries peeking from under glittering snow lined the soaring halls. Tables with sweet glazed meats, steaming piles of golden pearled grains, and dishes brimming with spiced vegetables awaited them. The sweet scents of pastries and cinnamon-plum tea were as inviting as the roaring firesides. Not that Elain had doubted Mor’s enthusiasm but standing in the palace's receiving room, everything was warm and welcoming. 

As the High Lord and High Lady of Winter greeted the Inner Circle, she waited among the retinue of midnight blues and crimson reds, wondering if certain amber eyes noticed her in the soft shades of a winter morning. She dutifully spoke to Winter officials and friendly courtiers, females but mostly males. The Shadowsinger kept to the edge of the crowd; he remained as solemn as an obsidian pillar, did he notice her? Or was he just diligently scanning the room for threats to their court?

As soon as it would go unnoticed, she wandered away from the pleasantries.

She was afraid that seeing Winter would take her back to the time in the cottage. It wasn’t that the cottage itself was the problem but living in the icy forest was the hardest time of her life, her human one. Their family had so little, the sisters didn’t get along, and it was always cold. During winter the frost came in under the door and along the window panes. They slept huddled together but the warmth did little for the pricks of aching hunger. The thoughts sent a shiver down her spine despite the rich layers of fabric she now wore. 

Finding a quiet balcony away from the bustle, she raised a cloaking glamor over the stone archway. She’d been practicing recently at home or in the garden, especially when unwanted emissaries were invited to the river house, carving out some peace. 

Overlooking the grand canal taking in the view, well, Winter was beautiful. 

The salt-white stone lined waterway reflected the crisp azure sky as elegant barges cruised down the canal, some crewed with great white bears. Wisps of smoke wound up from rooftops dusted with snow and shimmering glass spires pierced the hazy skyline. Music rose up from one of the city’s theaters, the orchestra lighthearted with sparkling flutes and lush harps. As the sky eased to blush and rose gold, the Cold moon rose signaling the start of the longest night of the year. Evening shadows stretched around the arched marble bridges and tumbled among the moonstone buildings. The slightest  tug on her frost-flower hair pins followed by the faint chittering of excited children brought her back to the balcony.

Wings rustled behind her, warming her cheeks more than any holiday festivities could stir in her. Maybe he wouldn’t notice.

It hadn’t taken him long to find the little terrace, so her glamour still needed work. Dressed in battle leathers with taut folded wings he looked like he belonged to the evening, silent and beautiful, as the sky’s enchanting shades of blue faded he was the waiting dark embrace.

‘Here you are’, relief in his tone.

His amber gaze eagerly trailed up her form, over bare shoulders, along her neck, and settling on pink curving lips.

To honor their host court she wore a sleek off the shoulder ice-blue shimmering gown, with a low bodice and even lower back. The style wasn’t as bold as her sisters but she’d hoped it wouldn’t go unnoticed. An evening breeze brushed her skin, a reminder that the interior of the palace was heated with magic but her little balcony certainly wasn't. 

‘Are you alright?’

‘Yes’, she meant it. And his wings lowered, easing his posture.

In his hands he held a velvet cobalt cloak and wisps of evening shadows whirled and chattered pointing out the pearly embroidered flowers.

‘This is for you’, and draped the soft garment over her shoulders, the familiar hint of cedar rose from the fabric.

‘Thank you, it’s beautiful’.

Sliding over her hips with his warm hands, he collected hers, ‘these are always so cold’ and tucked them into the pockets. She hadn’t realized how chilled she’d become until she could feel the ripples of skin under the strokes of her thumb.

He tugged her in closer, ‘now, that's perfect’.

It was.

Heat from his chest seeped through the cloak and the sapphire siphon dug into her back, anchoring her to their embrace. Tipping back into the broad warmth, she felt his cheek nestle into her loose waves, pushing thoughts of bleak window panes away. 

Under the weight of his arms pressing through the layers of fabrics, a vivid sense of warmth settled, of belonging, like waking up rested. She tilted her head further to tuck under his, brushing the soft golden skin.  His even breath kept her own steady.  So completely enveloped she wasn’t sorry they weren’t visiting the Summer Court instead. 

It’d all become more familiar since the last Solstice. They'd been meeting at the night markets of Velaris, holding hands amongst the cluttered stalls or walking along the quiet Sidra for months and it was worth more than any high lord's ire.

Tiny flakes of snow began to silently float down and smooth dark wings rose up to shield them. 

‘I have something for you’

‘Oh? I hope it's not a necklace?’, giving him a gentle hip bump.

A warm huff of breath brushed past her pointed ear, ‘no, even better’

Twirling her around like a ballerina she couldn’t help but mirror his bright grin. Flakes of snow landed on his dark mass of hair catching the fading light, wreathing him like faint stars. The only thing she wanted for Solstice was here but she wouldn’t mind a confession of unending love in the center of the ballroom tonight, in front of their whole family.

Gathering their hands together, shadows swirled from his palm revealing two small beans the color of orange peels, ‘they’re enchanted to always be warm. You normally use these with gloves but since you don’t use them —.’

He gently placed the beans on top of her hands, and ivory thread began weaving across them forming two delicate iridescent lace gloves.

‘I also know how you don’t like the cold’. The warmth spread immediately, just as if they were still holding hands. Reading her thoughts he began,

‘For when– .’ we’re apart, neither could add aloud.

Rising up on her toes she threaded her arms over his broad shoulders pressing a firm kiss to his lips. She felt his breath pause and his wings twitch at the brush of her finger tips. The caress was warm, direct, speeding her pulse. Did he feel her heartbeat race?

When Feyre’s voice called her name through the arched doorway, Elain didn’t pull back.

In fact, she pulled him in closer.

‘I should go,’ he managed in a low murmur and spun them around, the turn lifted the cloak off her shoulders to pool on the stone floor. The cold pricked at her skin but that didn’t matter.

‘Mm not yet–’, keeping her arms in place.

His wings flared at the hold but he leaned his forehead onto hers, ‘I’ll find you later this evening’.

Cupping Elain’s face he tilted down to press a firmer kiss forcing her back a step against the rough stone archway, crushing them together. She saw stars but not from the impact on the wall. Her knees may have faltered a bit. And her pulse. But he kept her upright.

‘Fine’ she breathed out. 

Replacing the cloak and looping the velvet ties, his amber eyes glimmered despite the layer he’d just added, 

‘Soon’. 

And launched off the balcony. Peering over the railing she leaned forward on shaky elbows never quite trusting that he would rise back up again. But he did, magnificent as ever. And tracked his dark wings until they became mist and shadow in the evening haze. 

Her oldest sister’s voice traveled through the door this time.

‘Elain, do you want to go get ready?’ Nesta stood in the archway scanning the empty space and her flushed sister.

‘Oh, yes, alright’, if Nesta asked she’d blame her warmed cheeks on the brisk winter evening.

‘Were you alone out here in the dark the whole time?’

‘I just wanted a little quiet’, tucking her hands away.

Nesta nodded and as they headed down the corridor added, ‘what a nice blue cloak.’

Thanks for reading!

Comments/feedback are welcome :)