#indigo powder for skin

[theorganicproducts]

Indigo powder is a natural plant-based dye made from the dried and powdered leaves of the indigo plant. This plant has been used for centuries to create vibrant blue and black dyes. Indigo powder is known for its impressive colouring abilities and the rich, dark shades it imparts to the hair. It is a popular choice for those who want to achieve shades of blue, black, or brown without resorting to chemical hair dyes.

Indigo powder for hair can create intense shades of blue and black, depending on the method and proportions used. You can also mix it with other natural ingredients like henna to create a wide range of shades, from deep browns to cool blues.

[swathikrishna123]

Unlocking the Magic: The Natural Wonders of Indigo Powder for Hair

Looking for a natural solution to hair dyeing that's both effective and gentle? Enter indigo powder for hair, a hidden gem in the world of natural hair care. Made from the leaves of the indigo plant, this powder boasts vibrant color and environmental benefits.

Indigo powder isn't just about changing hair color; it's about nurturing your hair from root to tip. Unlike synthetic dyes that can damage hair over time, indigo powder works to strengthen hair follicles, reduce hair fall, and even combat dandruff. Plus, it's a natural conditioner, leaving your locks soft, smooth, and shiny.

But the benefits don't stop there. Indigo powder is also versatile. By mixing it with henna, you can create a range of shades to suit your style. From auburn to dark brown, the possibilities are endless.

Using indigo powder is simple too. Just prepare the powder into a paste, apply it to your hair, and let it work its magic for a couple of hours. Then, rinse it out and admire your luscious locks.

Of course, like any hair product, it's essential to be aware of potential side effects. While indigo powder is generally safe, some people may experience allergic reactions or dryness. Doing a patch test before use is always a good idea.

So why choose chemical-based synthetic dyes when you can opt for the natural goodness of indigo powder? Embrace the power of nature and treat your hair to the care it deserves. Say hello to healthier, more vibrant hair with bhumika indigo powder for hair.

[musouie]

art by ohto.begone ノ divider by @/adornedwithlight

⟢ précis: vi seeks your comfort after reuniting with powder ꒱ inspired by s1 ep6

⟢ contents: hurt/comfort, angst, gn!reader, references to s1 ep 3 + e6, wc: 0.9k

Vi comes to you early in the morning. She slinks in with the rising sun, tiptoeing across your floors, narrowly missing the floorboards that often creak with an ease that can only be learned — and then, she sits. 

Quietly, on the edge of your bed, stifling her pained groans from throbbing wounds through clenched teeth and blueblack lips — taking the brunt of it as she’s always done…alone. She tries to fight it — the intrusion, the remembrance — but she’s never been good at forgetting, at smothering all the misshapen fragments of her memories until they were soot in her skull —

(Fire, heady and ashen on her tongue; the explosion, the beast Vander had become — and then all that came after. The poison of her words, the gravel of her voice, the tremble of Powder’s bottom lip as she harshly gripped her jaw)

— they haunted, they haunted, they haunted.

Her own lip begins to tremble, and quickly, she begins to undo her bandages, minding the shallow dip of your mattress as she shifts to a better position. (Perhaps the pain would distract her, one sting to outdo another of a different kind?) She unwinds it once, twice — and immediately her nose scrunches at the foul odour it emits: of blood and grime and sweat and —

“Vi?”

Her head snaps up; you’re staring at her blearily — vision blurry and cottoned around the edges as you fight your heavy eyelids. You blink twice and she nods, slowly turning her muscled back to you as you pull yourself into a seated position, legs still tucked beneath your blanket. “What are you doing here?” Her shoulders tense; you try again. “...When did you get in?”

“Not too long ago,” she mutters, gathering the last of her bandage in her scraped palm. “Snuck in through the window.”

You rub at your eyes. “You know I hate when you do that. There’s a key beneath the welcome-mat, you can just come through the front like normal.” 

She says nothing to that, but her shoulders do that curl, the one that tells you she’s annoyed, that another wall has been drawn up before you. You think it’s because you used the word ‘normal’ – your error. I’m far from normal, she’d whisper on starless nights, the things that happen to me don’t happen to normal people. 

She’d groan when you’d whisper back, And what is it that happens to you?

(What followed was predictable — routine. The crow’s feet by her eyes eased, and her lips hardened into a line — one that you knew not to cross, not to touch…not to kiss in lieu of all the ‘I’m sorry’’s and ‘Please forgive me’’s that neither of you would appreciate the outcome of.)

So you wait for her shoulders to straighten themselves, for the sun to peek through your window, one shy ray behind the other — and for the breath she’d been holding to release itself in one large huff.

“I–” she turns, and it’s then you glimpse the extent of her state, of her lips — indigo and swollen; berries crushed beneath a careless fist, one bruise atop another that has yet to heal. “Can I just lay beside you?”

“Your lips—”

“—They’ll heal.”

“But—”

“I said they’ll heal,” she bites.

And there it is again — the wall.

The wall.

(How many times had you tried to climb over it, to scale the bricks and mortar and find a way inside? How many times had you slipped and fallen, the jagged edges of its foundation cutting deep into the skin of your palms, your knees, the soles of your feet?

How many times had you bled, and bled, and bled, and bled, and asked no more questions?)

“Alright,” you murmur , lifting your blanket to invite her in.

(It was a small mercy, you supposed. To have a part of her, even if it was just a fraction, a piece, a fragment.

To have her close, and not so far away.) “Come.”

And so, she does. Wincing, groaning, hissing — she does.

You hold your arms out and she falls into them, her face burrowing into the crook of your neck. Her fingers, her nails, her hands — they grip the fabric of your shirt, bunching the cloth and pulling it tight.

(If you were to look down, you would see her knuckles, white, and the veins of her wrist, pronounced and raised — and, most of all, the tremor, the shake, the quiver, the shiver, the tremble of her entire being.

A leaf, battered and broken, blown and thrown by the wind.

A bird, with its wings torn and clipped, left to bleed and rot in the dirt.)

“I-I saw her.”

The admission is uttered so weakly, muffled by the fabric of your shirt, that you nearly miss it.

Your chest rises. “Who?”

“Powder. I–” Your shirt is drawn tighter. “It was so foggy… I-I didn’t even recognise her at first.”

“Vi…”

“I should’ve. I should’ve known. I should’ve seen her, I should’ve stayed with her, I should’ve—”

“Vi.”

“I should’ve—”

“Violet.” 

Her body shudders, her shoulders quake. “S-She was just a child.”

You pull her closer, until the two of you are flush and her body heat seeps through her clothes and your thin sleepwear, to your flesh. You cradle her, and carefully, you run your fingers through the jagged, pink strands of her hair — as though she’d skitter off at any moment.

“As were you.”

She doesn’t respond.

So you cradle her, until her breaths are yours and hers.

Until the blood on her lips are yours and hers.

Until her heartbeats are yours and hers.

Until her scars are yours and hers.

(And yours, hers.)

masterlist <3

[handweavers]

my mother has asked me to ask “that weaver friend of yours” lol — do you have experience dyeing linen? what does the process look like for natural vs synthetic dyes?

happy to be that weaver friend of yours 🥰❤️ dyeing linen is basically the same as dyeing cotton or any other cellulose fiber, so any synthetic dye that works for cotton will also work for linen. a professional grade fiber reactive dye like procion mx or dharma's procion (here) dyes cellulose fiber without heat, and the process is quick and painless. it just involves a large bucket, water, the dye powder and the cloth you wish to dye. i have little experience with rit dye so i'm not sure if you'd need heat for that, but procion dye is higher quality, comes in a lot more colours than rit, and a 2oz container is like $2 usd and goes a long way

the natural dye process for linen takes a lot longer than the procion dye process and requires several steps. cellulose fibers really don't like to take dyes so you basically have to do a bunch of alchemy to convince it to do what you want (compared to protein fibers like wool and silk which love dyes and only need some gentle nudges)

naturally dyeing linen depends on the dye you'd wish to use, but the process is essentially: scouring, mordanting, and dyeing. it's really important that you scour linen especially because it contains a lot of pectins that prevent dye from penetrating the fiber, so a harsh scouring is best (ie. washing it with hot water and ph neutral soap, even to the point of boiling the cloth. linen can take a lot of heat and is better for it, cotton is more sensitive) you'll probably have to do this before dyeing it with the synthetic dye too for best results

most natural dyes require that you mordant the cloth before dyeing. some dyes don't require a mordant (indigo is the big one, but if you're working with onion skins or other materials that contain tannins this is also true. however mordanting the cloth before dyeing with tannins or even mordanting with tannins is still recommended for better colour performance long-term unless you're working with indigo in which case using a mordant can actually cause problems) but if you're unsure, assume that you need to apply a mordant. you essentially have to simmer the cloth in a hot pot with either a material that contains tannins (tannic acid), a natural bio-accumulator of aluminum (symplocos), or use a metal salt (alum acetate is best for cellulose, but iron and copper salts can also be used. the metal salts route requires more safety precautions esp if you use copper salt, you can't dump that down the drain) your choice of mordant impacts the final colour with different mordants shifting the chemical reaction that happens in the cloth when you dye it

with cotton and linen, after you use the mordant you need to use either a chalk or wheat bran bath to remove excess mordant from the cloth, esp if you use alum acetate, otherwise it can leave a whitish cast over the cloth and also impede dyeing lol. wheat bran baths tend to cause a warmer tone to the final dyed cloth, chalk baths cause a cooler tone. i only use wheat bran baths bc i prefer the warmth and i get the bran cheaply at my local punjabi grocer

only then can you dye the cloth, again unless you're working with a dye like coffee or tea or onion skins OR indigo. linen really doesn't like to take natural dyes unless you do all the above steps, it's stubborn. the dye process itself depends on what dye you use and you can do stuff like solar dyeing if you don't want to simmer it in a pot on a stove. if you plan to go the natural dye route lmk and i can send you some scans of a book i have that contains precise instructions for preparing linen for dyeing

[resplendentoutfit]

Deathly Pale

The desire of women for ultra-pale skin didn't end with the Elizabethan era. In Victorian times, women still coveted the look of translucent white skin and applied the same causic, poisonous substances to their face, neck, arms and hands. Turbuculosis was a common cause of death in the era. The look of death was considered romantic for its tragic and poetic beauty. Even if a Victorian woman wasn't charmed by death due to turbuculosis, she still coveted pale, translucent skin. Tanned faces were the result of long hours of work out-of- doors, belonging to the lower classes.

“The death of a beautiful woman is, unquestionably, the most poetical topic in the world.” - Edgar Allan Poe

The two predominant beauty standards were the painted beauty and the natural beauty. The later was the preferred ideal of the average fashionable woman. The methods she employed to achieve good skin and complexion were all in an effort to look natural. The overly painted look was seen as racy - the province of prostitutes and "loose" women.

Upon a well-off Victorian woman's dressing table were arsenic, ammonia, and opium, among other toxic substances. The Ugly-girl Papers, Or, Hints for the Toilet was a book published in 1874 that contained a series of beauty articles for Harper's Bazaar. The author recommends coating the face with opium before bed and a brisk wash with ammonia in the morning. How refreshing.

Lotions containing lead were popular for whitening the skin as well as erasing freckles and other blemishes. Complexion wafers containing arsenic were widely advertised. These products were peddled to women as being harmless when, in fact, they caused headaches, nausea, and even paralysis.

To achieve eyes with a seductive gaze, Victorian women used Belladonna or Deadly Nightshade in the form of eye drops, which diluted the pupils. Eye irritation and even blindness were reported symptoms of this practice.

A little color over that deathly white facial palor was usually achieved with beet juice and sometimes, animal blood. It's intriguing to wonder how women came into possession of animal blood, though the answer may be as simple as a purchase from a local vendor. Vermillion, also known as red mercury, was used to tint the lips and was known to be poisonous.

Virginie Gautreau, the subject of the famous John Singer Sargent painting known as Madama X, was not only known to use products to whiten her skin, but was also purported to use indigo dye to paint veins over the ultra-pale veneer of her skin. I haven't found any sound evidence of this, however. What I did read in both The Collector and in an article at minsooki, was that over her arsenic pale skin, Virginie used a lavender powder to counteract the warmth of candlelight.

What's most troubling is that in the face of ample evidence of the health consequences of many of these products, women continued to value the look they provided, over their own health and safety.

References:

• Molly Brown House Museum: Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder: How Victorians Used Common Poisons to Become Drop Dead Gorgeous

• Awful Forever

• Atlas Obscura

• minsooki.com

• The Collector

[honey-minded-hivemind]

Have I ever explained the Pearlification AU? Where the earth is being taken over by gems, humans were dying out, and the gems take in the ones they consider worthy, and make them into a gem... And that Pearls are not servants, but are considered treasures by the gem society, gems who are pure and unique and are to be adored and protected, kept safe in the Reef, a safe place, almost a temple, for Pearls, and their loyal guards and caretakers...

Reader and some of the teens are humans, who the gems took in/force adopted, and are slowly brought about the Reef after they were taken from Earth. Yet the gems plan to turn them into gems, Pearls, to be exact, to take care of and teach and love on... Reader tries to run away after the others are taken, but ends up in the room where humans are converted to Pearls... They end up being taken to a special room, where they're asked questions, such as favorite colors, what shape they prefer, oval or circle, how they want to look, their preferred hair style, the clothes they like, what they want to be called, if they can drink some water they brought for them... Reader answers, albeit shakingly and scared out of their wits, until they're told they've finished. Reader is taken to a room with warm pools, and bathes off any dirt or salt. Once they're clean, they're taken to another room, a waiting room of sorts... Reader is given a glass of odd liquid and told to drink all of it. When they ask if they have to, they're told it is important they do so. Reader drinks it, and ends up drugged, and is taken to the conversion room...

They're tested a bit after being laid down, their eyes are checked, their nose, their ears, their heartbeat, their breathing... Then they're lightly strapped down, and given an injection that makes them sleepy. They slowly drift off, to the sound of water and quiet chatter...

When Reader wakes up, they feel tired, yet a bit... lighter. Cleaner. They look around, finding themself in a large room full of soft pillows and blankets, in a carved bed? that looks like a shell. They can see a few sleeping figures, but they're... In different colors of the rainbow. From indigo blue to powder pink to scarlet red to ivory white and olive green and cream yellow, and many more... Reader rubs their eyes, then freezes. Their hands... they aren't any human skin tone they've seen. They're... colorful... Reader scrambles, feeling their body, noting that there's a gem on them, amd feels panicked. But they eventually calm fown enough to decide decide need to watch and observe, they need to act like nothing is wrong, at least not right now...

A few of the gems (the adults and older teens) come in, and Reader pretends to be asleep. What they hear is a small discussion between the gems about how after the conversion, they should all be pearls, and should not remember being human. They might remember friends and a few small things, but they shouldn't be anything besides freshly made pearls who are being taken care of and loved by the gem society...

So Reader, when someone goes to wake them up, acts lightly dazed and a little confused, but watches how the other tee- pearls, react. And see that they are mostly calm, bubbly, or asking what their purpose is. They end up lined up and taken to a room, where they each stand on a shell and are told to state their name (the color pearl they are), their flaw, and their perfections... Reader just hopes they can hold up against all of this, and can hide that they remember. Maybe they can snap some of the others out of it...

(Ask any questions you want about this AU! If you have an idea for Reader's Pearl color or what their flaw or perfections could be, I'm open to discussing it! I don't know why, but I like pearls, and the idea of the platonic yans loving the Pearl kids, who are like newborn gemlings now, is kinda sweet and creepy fluff... What do y'all think?)

[romances-not-tragedies]

ROY G BIV tag game

Thank you @thewriteflame for the tag!

Rules: Search your WIP for the colours of the rainbow and post the excerpt

I will be taking my excerpts from my original fic Renegade Heiresses WIPs.

Red (Prodigal Heiress)

The fairness of her skin in her face, however, was marred by a visible scar on the left cheek and barely visible under face powder. Her lips had been dark red, full and begging for a kiss— Justin shook his head. What was he thinking? Was he contemplating kissing her lips and licking the lipstick off her lips? His mysterious savior? How absurd!

Orange

Yellow Gold (Prodigal Heiress)

Though it had been a week since they first met (or was it?), she remembered the invitation sent to her office above Francisca’s bookshop. It was an ecru card with black and gold gilded frames interlocked at the border, and the letter prints elegant yet powerful.

Green (Prologue)

Once out of sight, she removed her beaded green slippers and walked down the volada where she encountered a woman in a less elegant version of the terno and whose face registered shock at seeing her. It might have been her forest green terno with bronze-hued pañuelo, tapis, and cola or that Francisca stared at her dead in the eye. She might have scared the woman either by her presence or stare, making her back out and disappear into the dark. Strange woman, Francisca thought as she resumed trying to find where the Señorita had run off to.

Blue (Prodigal Heiress)

Then the blue-attired performer—she recognized to be Luisa Confesor—snapped her head up and stepped forward in a dramatic fashion, approaching to the microphone. She commanded the attention of the patrons, though Clarisse could not make much of everyone’s reactions.

Indigo

Violet

Tagging @winterandwords, @avoidingcertaindoom, @laplumedemaureen, but this is also an open tag to those who want to join in the party.

Happy writing!

[sketchyelvenasss]

Divulge Under the Stars

Gale x Tav

Act1 - no spoilers - 1000w

Under the stars is the perfect place to tell your crush you tragic backstory, right?

It was a cool night at camp and the breeze felt pleasant against Aerika’s ashen skin. The fire crackled below the blanket of stars that twinkled against the dark indigo night sky. No matter how much time he spent above ground it was still a sight that filled him with wonder.

Most of the camp had gone off to sleep aside from himself. He preferred to take first watch and observe how different everything was from his home. Even the darkness was comparatively bright to what he was used to. There were many luminous mushrooms and lichen in the Underdark, but none could compare to the stars.

Then there was his company, which at present was much more wonderful than the air above. Gale sat on the ground beside him gazing above and happily pointing to each constellation. His deep brown eyes bright with excitement at the opportunity to share, and boast, his knowledge. While his other hand was entwined in Aerika’s behind them, as if it were a secret.

Not that it was. But it was one of the only things they could delight in without worry of meeting an explosive end.

“It brings me joy to see your smile.” Aerika said when there was a pause in Gale’s lecture. Usually he would listen with rapt attention, but it had been a rough few nights for the mage. After learning the means he had been using to keep the Netherese orb at bay was rapidly losing its effectiveness, Gale looked incredibly sad when he thought the others weren’t paying him attention.

“You are too kind.” He chuckled after a brief pause.

“I disagree. I am only telling you the truth.”

Gale pulled his hand away and a disquiet silence fell between them. How cruel fate was sometimes. To light a spark of romance, only to smother it with impending doom. But Aerika wasn’t so easily disheartened. Especially not in odd circumstances that they and the other infectees had found themselves in. Anything could happen.

Spurred by the desire to comfort him, Aerika shifted closer next to Gale, closing what little space there had been until they were hip to hip. Explosion be damned. But thankfully they both remained in one piece, even when Aerika wrapped his arm across Gale’s back and rested his head on the other’s shoulder. Loose strands of blond and powder blue hair fell together with warm brown waves. There was no breeze anymore, as if to perpetuate their stillness as they found equanimity through the soft intimate touch.

“Do you remember when you pulled me out of that portal?” Gale asked, his voice low.

“I do. It was not that long ago actually. I was drawn to the intriguing, but voracious, magic and instead of an illithid relic or cursed artifact I found a hand calling for help. It still baffles me how a wizard of your skill ended up like that, irrespective of that Netherese blight of yours.”

“I’m certain you’ve heard this innumerable times before, but you are unlike any drow I’ve ever met. You revere the weave. Wield it with both passion and skill that would humble many a mage. I can tell it runs deeper than mere devotion to accrue divine power. It is inspiring.”

Aerika smiled fondly in recollection. The memory was more than a century old, but clear as crystal. “Magic saved my life. That is the long and short of it. In my earliest memories I was avidly consuming any material pertaining to magic. I practiced cantrips and invocations I had memorized from books whenever I could. I desired nothing more than to become a famous adventuring wizard. My parents labored to support my passion, but…” he paused. This was the part of the story that still hurt. No matter how much time had passed. It did them no honor to fight the tears that looked in his white eyes. He let them fall freely down his face into the soft fabric of Gale’s shirt. Gale was quiet but gave Aerika a comforting squeeze on the shoulder.

It’s okay, if you need to stop. The touch soothed. But Aerika wanted to share this. Not many people allowed him to get close enough, because they only saw a drow and assumed he was everything they feared. Unlike Gale, who had been cordial and given him the benefit of the doubt.

“My parents were murdered by Loth-sworn raiders, and I was captured. It was a cleric of Mystra that came to my rescue. Her name was Amillia. A middle-aged woman with grey eyes and choppy pink hair. She spotted me bound and bloody, tied to a cart and forced to either keep pace with the rothé or be dragged on the ground behind them. If not for her I would be dead or a slave. We escaped the Underdark, and she brought me to her clergy. A small temple in a port city along the Shining Sea. She’s buried there now. If we both survive this misadventure, I would like to bring you there.”

“It would be an honor to pay my respects to her. Something to look forward to.” Gale said.

After a short moment of quiet, Aerika cleaned his face on his shirt and Gale began to show off small tricks in his palms to lighten the mood. The night ended too soon— they both need some rest to continue the quest of finding a survivable tadpole extraction method— but it concluded with warm smiles, light hearts, and a dream of a future together.

[usersiren]

tidbit tuesday 💛

i was tagged by the always talented and beautiful @bigfootsmom and i finally have something to post! this is from an ed/stede fuck or die fic i just started today :)

cw: nsfw, trans ed (terms used are clit/cunt), fuck or die

“Well, I’ve been looking for an excuse to use this,” Ned sighs, standing back up and rooting around in his jacket pocket. “None of my physical torture will be good enough for you. That I knew when I got here. But the combined effects of this… well, it should do the trick just fine.” Ned pulls out a small vial, the contents inside a rich blue-purple color, reminding Ed of the indigo chest that Stede told him about from when they met Zheng. The pigment almost glowed under the lantern lights, and Ed has never seen a drug that looks like this, wracks his brain for something and comes up blank. “I can’t wait to have a front-row seat to this show,” Ned mutters, uncorking the vial and sneering before tossing the contents out into the air, immediately taking several steps back. “What the fuck—” The powder hovers in the air for a moment, glittering and catching the light of the lanterns, and then all at once dives and sticks itself to Ed’s exposed skin, spreads up under his leathers and into his nose and mouth, what the fuck, what the fuck— Ed thrashes against the cuffs, kicks out at Ned’s legs even though he’s too far away now, laughing as Ed coughs and struggles to breathe. Ed’s skin is on fire, a burning ache throughout his entire body like when he uses those pepper salves on his knee, and his eyes water and his—oh, what the—his clit throbs, warmth flooding between his legs as he cramps and clenches around nothing, yanking his legs shut. “What did you do to me?”

tagging anybody who wants to do this! i'm p sure all my other writing friends have been tagged but i'm always down to make new ones!! 🫶🏻

[tiaskabeautylounge]

The ultimate guide to the best Moroccan bath in Dubai

A Moroccan bath is an ideal choice if you're looking for a complete physical and mental detox. Also known as Hammam in Arabic languages, the Moroccan bath is an ancient tradition. The word ‘Hammam’ means ‘bathroom’ and is often confused with a Turkish bath.

Let’s dive deep into the types and rituals of the Moroccan bath in our ultimate guide to the best Moroccan bath in Dubai.

Types of Moroccan bath

1.       Traditional Moroccan bath: There are several steps and stages in a traditional Moroccan bath.

2.       Bridal Moroccan bath: Traditionally held before the wedding day, this type is ideal for pampering the skin.

3.       Argan oil bath: This Moroccan bath uses argan oil to moisturize, lighten and protect the skin from ultraviolet rays.

4.       Indigo bath: Indigo bath uses a natural ingredient called indigo powder, which is famous for its lightening properties.

5.       Postpartum bath: A bath specifically aimed at women going through postpartum stress allows for the exfoliation of the skin to give smoother results.

What can you expect from the best Moroccan bath in Dubai?

 While being topless in a room full of strangers sounds scary, trust us, this experience will be one of a kind. Don't worry no one will judge your body. Upon arrival to the hammam, you will be given a locker and asked to undress. Women have the option to wear bikini tops or go completely naked. On the other hand, men are required to wear boxers or swimming shorts.

After the dressing is taken care of, you will be shown into a steam room. Steam helps open up pores and help you relax. The best Moroccan bath in Dubai helps you relieve your physical and mental stress through this step.

Sometime later, your attendant will return with black soap. Black soap is a traditional Moroccan product famous for smoothing the skin. After the soap is on, the attendant will gently rub it on your body for a few minutes more.

The soap will then be rinsed with more hot water. The next step is to exfoliate. A Kessa glove or an exfoliator will be used to scrub your skin off of all dead cells. Note that the attendant will be pretty rough with you on this step.

The final step will be a cold shower. The cold shower benefits the skin, leaving it soft, smooth, and polished.

The best Moroccan bath in Dubai is the best self-care routine you can swear by.

Conclusion

Tiaska Beauty Salon is the ideal place to get the best Moroccan bath in Dubai. With its numerous benefits, such as skin rejuvenation, stress relief, acne cure, and more, a hammam is the perfect spa treatment for you. Book yours today!

[lorei-writes]

Letters: From: Me ; To: You

(And Some of What Happened In-Between)

Clavis Lelouch & OC (OC Chart: Laura) Summary: A letter sent out in desperation, and how -- or whether -- it manages to rescue Laura from an arranged marriage. Word Count Estimate: 1k Other chapters: Masterlist

Content Warnings: none

Clavis smiled, golden eyes shimmering in the light cast by the crystal chandelier watching over the ballroom. There were few things in the space more dazzling than his smile, both impeccable and impenetrable, marble walls paling in comparison to his canines-fangs. He dimmed his presence, however, binding any wicked intention he might have held to the corners of his mouth. A hand resting over Esther’s shoulder, Clavis leaned forward, eyes trained on the prey before them.

Clavis smiled, golden eyes shimmering in the light cast by the crystal chandelier watching over the ballroom. There were few things in the space more dazzling than his smile, both impeccable and impenetrable, marble walls paling in comparison to his canines-fangs. He dimmed his presence, however, binding any wicked intention he might have held to the corners of his mouth. A hand resting over Esther’s shoulder, Clavis leaned forward, eyes trained on the prey before them.

“May the show begin,” he whisper-laughed.

Lord Dönhoff’s private retreat was one of the few mansions of its kind, beasts from faraway lands lurking in the shadows of sparse ancient statues, furs shining and sharp teeth glistening. Were it not for their ever-still glass eyes, and the vividly constrained expressions unimpressed by the passing of time, one would make little error to think they still were alive. Ivory tusks, deer-like spotted abnormalities with necks as long as a man is tall, indigo birds with tails of hundreds eyes, all locked within a frail border of fine art, empty limestone pupils leering at smooth muscle flexing within granite. All perfect in their stagnation, the living could not possibly compare – not the guests, and not even the host himself. Only one breathing seemed to belong to this collection of sorts, elevated in her powdered down glory and jewels she wore.

Laura Sonne lifted her gaze, pale blue eyes growing wide as gloved fingers brushed against hers. She watched, careful as not to miss the moment he’d steal a glance at her, hot breath spilling over her alabaster skin. Clavis kissed the back of her hand.

“I am most honoured by your presence, Your Highness,” Lord Dönhoff beamed, brown spots sliding over his skull as he wrinkled himself to smile. “Allow me. Laura, Clavis Lelouch, the Third Prince of Rhodolite. Your Highness, Laura Sonne, my soon-to-be-wife… Although, if I may ask, who may be that curious thing at your side?”

Laura shivered, her shoulder blades drawing near each other as her body stiffened in alarm.

“Why, of course, Esther Materna, my lover,” Clavis spoke immediately, jovial as ever as he sneaked his arm around Esther’s waist. The attention, however, drifted away from his grin, and to her furiously red face, freckles peaking from below make up giving her an appearance of a ripe strawberry.

“Prince Clavis… no…” she squeaked meekly.

“My darling is adorably shy, you see.”

“I am not your darling,” she opposed, each word coming out as a somewhat deformed hiss, the sounds barely combining in the vat of thick, although closely undefined, accent.

“Please, forgive us. My sweetheart is yet to become fluent in Obsidianite,” Clavis explained, an even deeper blush begging to disagree with his claims. Seemingly concerned for Esther, he put his hand on her shoulder, and drew her closer.

Laura held back her breath, Clavis turning his face towards her for but a moment… But it was merely a moment, the Third Prince of Rhodolite she had begged for help directing any further inquiries at her betrothed. Laura froze, her teeth gnawing at the inside of her cheek as she thought the situation over.

The music sounded off eventually, fortepiano eagerly conversing with violins and what other instruments felt entitled to share their voice. Laura let herself be led, ecru organza with weaved-in golden thread shimmering with each of her steps. She could have floated, she could have been in fact somewhere else – whatever it was that she did, it seemed no realer than a dream in which a white-haired porcelain doll came to think and live for herself. Her partner switched. Again.

“My, I can see that you can barely contain yourself. But, I must warn you, now would not be the best time to rush into my arms,” Clavis sighed, his frame locked as he held her hand. Laura held onto his arm, their feet being of the same mind. She followed, chased after him, both hurt and unsure, and —

“Your Highness… How am I to understand your presence here?” she asked, fighting against herself as not to frown.

“However you’d like.”

Laura gritted her teeth. “Am I then to think that you have chosen to betray my trust?”

“Hmm… If merely conversing with your husband-to-be qualifies as that, then I suppose I did betray you, indeed. But is that how you understand betrayal?” Clavis laughed, each word a serpent, a venomous snake ready to bite.

The dance continued, not a word spilling out of her lungs. Laura thought, and she thought hard, the music beginning to spin its notes fast, faster than it had ever had. “No,” she replied, the word an antidote in its own right. “Why did you want to see me then? Do you… Do you happen to have a plan ready?”

“Of course. A gentleman never goes back on the offer he’s made, after all… Although I may not have enough time to explain it now.”

Her lips parted in protest, but the look he gave her silenced her, a warning lingering below the pools of his eyes that suddenly seemed so close to her. His mouth twitched, devilish and devilishly amused.

“Esther is not too fond of dancing. You should be able to find her at the balcony,” Clavis whispered, his voice sinking deep into her mind, travelling through her body as if it was her own and thus could deliver commands. She was hypnotised, put in a trance by something greater, more convincing than any of her unspoken fears, something ready to pounce — “Your Rhodolitian seems fairly good. It’ll make things easier for us, Klara.”

The music ceased – and so he was gone, just as the last note died, leading her to question whether he was a devil, a ghost, a poltergeist of some kind, or perhaps truly a man. Klara let another hand take his place, another set of feet, another face, welcomed another pair of eyes surprised by the fact that she was flesh, and not porcelain.

[titleleaf]

ficsmells of 2023

(a sequel to the long-bygone ficsmells of 2017)

pete campbell in "santa, buddy": pomade, laundry soap

mozart in "divertimento": wig powder, orange-flower water, sweat, ink

billy hargrove in "somebody's sins but not mine": cigarettes, Drakkar Noir

eddie munson in "we like it louder": sweat, woodsmoke, Old Spice, grime

eddie munson in "give you what you need": sweat, weed, Old Spice, body odor (look at him and tell me i'm wrong)

al shaw in "all the things you boys lie about": sweat, specifically Marlboro cigarettes

vecna tentacle monster in "alive after death": chlorine, semen, rotting meat

daimler in "no language but a cry": rosemary and clove pomatum

julian fromme in "the days of september that rise": swimming pool chlorine, skin/sweat

orson krennic in "the dose makes the poison": sweat, uniform wool, "light and woody" cologne

phil burbank in "coffin tack": this man STINKS + wet wool/leather

bob benson in "(the first time ever) i saw your face": 'Binaca and fine cologne'

henry drax in "the heidelburgh tun": sweat, body odor, wet wool, blood

cirk baufort in "false taste of paradise": sweat, clean cotton tee shirt, semen

father paul hill in "and all the senses rise against": semen, soap, salt, skin, trace cologne

noemí taboada in "lactarius indigo": typewriter ribbons, dusty card catalogs

boris lermontov in "adoration of the earth": carnation, glove leather, hair tonic (spice/herbal notes)

g. joubert in "til every taste is on the tongue": leather, carnation, rosewood, cedar

primo nizzuto in "sticky fingers": bergamot, orange oil

cornelius hickey in "the men will be good, but when?": picked rope, tar

brother matteo in "horologion": wool, wax

dr. stanley in "a progressive vice": camphor

cleopatra in "sykon": myrrh, balsam

james noel holland in "a pathless comet, and a curse": vetiver, neroli

julius caesar in "leopard" and "intempesta nox": calamus, sweet clover, marjoram

stewy hosseini in "the gatecrasher": rosemary, hinoki (I think I had a real cologne or combination of products in mind when I wrote this description but idk which)

stewy hosseini in "buy more stock in roses": cedarwood

marc antony in "nonae" and in "this battalion of lovers": olive oil, herbal water

henry iv in "much ado with red and white": clove-pinks, blood

prince hal in "surfeited with honey": rose, civet

shiv roy in "in the sanatorium": hair serum, expensive shampoo

kendall roy in "in the sanatorium": Tom Ford cologne

henry viii in "serpentello": civet, lavender, bay

samuel masham in "a trick of state": sandalwood, civet

hugo barrett and tony theservant1963 in "close my mouth": Russian birch, leather -- super common fragrance notes for men's fragrance of the era, I might have been thinking Creed Cuir de Russie, for reasons that have everything to do with the comedy value of Creed's pretentious branding

evelyn mulwray in "speak low": 'wet earth and salt water and magnolia flower, like a cloud of perfume staining the wrist of a pair of white leather glove'

colonel ives in "and the burden and the lesson": pomade, bay leaf, clove

noho hank in "yes, and": 'expensive stores at the mall' which 100% means he's wearing a cologne barry doesn't recognize

sal romano in "at last, something beautiful": this dude smells NICE in ways ginsberg cannot articulate

marcus isaacson in "something unreck'd": rose and petitgrain

jay gatsby in "a ruby in the vine": BLOOD AND MONEY

debbie mitford in "soft targets": jasmine, cigarette smoke

[cherrybombfangirlwrites]

Icy Kisses

I wrote so much today, holy shit. I think that's the most words I've ever written in less than ten hours. I feel great, might write a lot tomorrow too cause I'm on fire and still have a lot of motivation and inspiration. Anyways, going back to my roots with some Sapphire and Raven angst (with fluff at the end, because I'm nice). i used the prompt "i thought I lost you kiss" one of my favorite tropes ever, from this prompt list. *evil cackle* enjoy, suckers. Also this takes place during book 8 in the series.

Wordcount: 1668

Warnings: angst galore but there’s fluff at the end, panic, the dangers of thousands of tons of snow up in the mountains

FSF Taglist: @rose-bookblood @chalcid @evethenovicewriter @writing-is-a-martial-art @thatprolificauthor @mjjune @wip-nook @fiercely-raging-writer

General Taglist: @enchanted-lightning-aes @/thatprolificauthor

~~~❄️~~~

Tiny snowflakes whipped through the air like little knives, slicing at any and all exposed skin. There were barely even any trees this high on the peak, just blinding white snow and jagged black rocks. 

The cold was almost unbearable, and the wind wasn’t helping a bit. Raven would’ve frozen solid if not for the fur coat secured around his shoulders. The mountain trolls and enormous snow cats with the large saber teeth protruding out of their jaws were clearly faring much better, unbothered by the cold.

He’d forgotten how much he hated wind. It was loud, scratched and clawed at his exposed skin- and the worst part was no matter how much he tied his hair back, the wind kept ripping it out and whipping it right in his face. The wind was so loud and grating on his senses he wanted to tear the wind right out of the sky and chop it into little pieces.

Another snow cat lunged at him, and he swiftly swung his sword in a bloody arc of death- chopping the mountain cat’s head clean off.

On her horse behind him, Snow was firing well aimed arrows at the trolls’ eyes and noses, where they were most sensitive. Lady- along with the other horses- was able to walk on the snow without much of a struggle thanks to Triveya’s spell that kept her hooves mostly on top of the soft white powder, only sinking through about halfway up the hoof. However the spell was due to wear off soon, so they had to finish the fight as soon as possible.

Snow shouted something to him, but even without the wind it sounded like gibberish. He asked her to repeat, and she moved her horse closer. “If you’re done with the cats I could use your help with these trolls!”

Finally understanding, Raven heaved himself up into Dante’s saddle, sword out. That was when he realized Sapphire wasn’t next to him, she usually hopped up right behind him or in front since she was terrible with horses.

He looked over his shoulder, steering Dante around, scanning the area for her. With the red hair, bright pink coat, and loud yelling that always accompanied her fighting, she couldn’t be that hard to spot in the blinding white.

Finally, a little farther down the mountain behind him, he spotted her throwing rocks at the trolls with enough accuracy to nail them in the face and daze them. She was angrily screaming something about how it was not nice to throw people, which made a smile tug at the corner of his mouth. Little Stripe was scampering across her shoulders, shrieking and chattering unintelligibly. Tris and Cass were in front of her, using their swords while Lan and Max backed them up from behind.

Raven tried not to worry too much about her. She could clearly handle this and keep herself relatively out of danger for now. Though he couldn’t help risking a glance over his shoulder to check that the trolls and mountain cats weren’t getting too close for comfort.

While Hestia and Monty were keeping the cats busy, he went to help Snow with the trolls.

Things were going fine. Snow was taking down trolls while he, Kaye, and Indigo got up close to distract them, most of the mountain cats were dead or had run off by now, and there were little to no injuries in their little group so far. Every time he risked a glance down the mountain, Sapphire was doing fine and as out of danger as she could be in these conditions.

Then it went horribly wrong.

One of the trolls had the unfortunately smart idea to chuck a giant boulder up at the slope above them- causing the snow to come crashing down with a thundering rumble.

Snow grabbed all of the group that was up there with her to the side, behind the safety of a large ledge overhead. Raven thought he could beat the snow down the mountain, but Snow stopped him.

“I have to get down there,” he said, hoping to the gods he didn’t sound as scared as he was.

“It’s too dangerous,” Snow told him, “You’ll be buried alive before you can scream.”

“I don’t care!”

Snow kept a firm grip on his arm, keeping him under the ledge. “We’ll get down there the second that the avalanche stops moving, alright?”

He started to protest again, but Snow kept a firm grip on his arm. “Lan is with them and he knows about avalanches like I do. He probably pulled them to safety just like I did with you and the others.”

Reluctantly, Raven took a step back, and leaned heavily against Dante. The horse wasn’t doing so great, as he was used to much warmer temperatures down in Greyvenhill, even with two horse blankets secured on his back. Raven would have to make sure that his horse got plenty of time to warm up by the fire tonight.

The loud roar of the snow and blinding white was making it hard to think on top of the panicked whirlwind of thoughts in his head. He started braiding Dante’s hair, which helped him a little bit to at least not freak out and go barrelling down the mountain. Next to his neat and straight braids in his horse’s mane were messy and uneven ones- but Raven didn’t even think about touching those, she’d worked hard on them. She was getting better, and it seemed to help when there wasn’t much options to move around and she was restless.

After what felt like an infinite amount of time, the mountainside finally stopped moving.

Raven barely gave Snow a second to give the go ahead before he hopped on Dante and started down the mountainside as fast as Dante would go. Indigo was right behind him, and quickly passed him and went ahead. Because the fresh power was quickly settling and becoming almost as hard and heavy as stone, Dante couldn’t move very quickly in the deep snow, especially with Raven riding him- the horse was built for speed, not strength.

The pace made his heart pound faster and harder as it felt like his throat was closing. Most of what he remembered about Snow, Lan, Tris, and Kayes’ advice on avalanches was what to do if you or someone else got buried in the snow- if they were buried more than a foot under, the victim had minutes to live before dying from lack of air.

When he finally arrived at the flatter, much wider slope where the others had been, he couldn’t wait anymore and hopped off.

The area was filled with huge clumps and ridges of settling snow. He’d already spotted some of the others leaving the ridge of jagged black rocks they’d hidden behind.

There was one person missing now.

Raven looked around frantically, scanning the area for anything red, orange, or pink. He was pretty sure he’d stopped breathing minutes ago as his mind continued to race faster and faster.

Snow and the others came over.

“Hey, hey,” Tris held out her hands, “Relax alright? We’ll find her, it’ll take just a minute to search the area-”

“We don’t have minutes!” Raven cried. One hand was gripping the hilt of his sword at his side so tight the knuckles turned white.

Little Stripe came skittering across the top of the snow, and screeched to a halt at his feet. “It’s S-s-s-sapphire.”

Raven immediately snatched up the tiny chipmunk and demanded. “What? Where?”

“She’s- she’s- sh-sh-she’s trapped under- trapped under the snow! I managed- I managed- to d-d-dig a hole for air and sssslip out but the sssnow is crushing th-th-the air out- the air out- offfff her lungs-”

The cold mountain air froze in his chest. “Take me there,” He choked out, “Now.”

Little Stripe leaped out of his hand and dashed across the white expanse, kicking up snow in her wake. Everyone rushed after her, Raven at the front.

Snow and Tris pulled ahead. At the spot where the chipmunk stopped, they started to dig, and soon red hair and a pink sleeve appeared. Once deep enough, both girls grabbed one of Sapphire’s arms, and yanked her out.

She collapsed to the snow clutching a snowy mitten to her chest as she gasped for air. Ice crystals clung to her cloak, dress, and hair, and her nose and cheeks were bright red from the cold.

Darting across the deep snow as fast as his boots would allow, Raven sprinted over to Sapphire and pulled her into a bone crushing hug. She hugged him back just as tight as he buried his face in her hair.

He finally opened his eyes, and their chapped and cold lips locked and he kissed her like there was no tomorrow. She kissed him back just as hard, cupping his face with mittens covered in ice crystals that stung his face with cold- he could barely find it in himself to notice much less care.

Another avalanche could’ve happened right there and buried them- and neither would’ve noticed, nor cared.

When the need for air beat them both, they finally broke the kiss, but didn’t loosen the embrace. He gently cupped her face and said in a shaky voice, “Don’t you ever, ever scare me like that again.” He pressed his forehead against hers, tears leaking out and immediately hardening in the freezing air. “I thought I was going to lose you again…” He whispered, his voice cracking at the last word. 

He added, attempting to be stern. “One of these days you’re going to scare me so bad it’ll be the death of me. Don’t do that!”

She nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. “I don’t plan on it.”

And then they and the others found a stable and sheltered ridge farther down the mountain with enough room for the giant tent, and set up camp for the night.

[neoninky]

TWST Fanfic 'Her Ivory Crown': Chapter 2

Reminder for any/all AO3 writer/readers: you can read this and more on my page @ 'neoninky'

Shares, likes, and comments are always appreciated and welcome!

Ch. 2 - Open the Gates!

Riddle and the other dorm leaders agreed to meet the Headmaster on Main Street at exactly 12:00 on the dot. So naturally, the most eager or prompt of the bunch were there early. That included Riddle himself, Azul, Vil, and Kalim. Idia, in the form of a floating tablet, arrived right at 12. Leona had to be practically dragged there by Ruggie and arrived by 12:01 right as they saw some carriages approaching the front gates and poor Malleus was nowhere in sight, making the other boys wonder if anyone told him about time arrangement. Ruggie gave Leona an exasperated look as the lion managed to straighten himself up enough to be deemed presentable. The look was doubled when he was shooed away to go check on how the stages were coming together.

Crowley stepped forward as two white and gold carriages came to a halt at the school's gates that were now opened. He politely extended his hand to the elegant woman in powder blue that exited first, "Ladies, welcome to Night Raven College! We are honored by your presence!" he said with a flourish.

The godmother smiled gently to the headmaster and the dorm leaders lined up behind him, "Thank you for your kind words, Headmaster Crowley. We of Sacred Crown Hall are most pleased to make your acquaintance-"

The elegant headmistress continued to address them and their headmaster with a polished tone but it fell on deaf ears as the boys were distracted by the seven figures approaching behind her. The girls each wore a velvet cape in different colors, their faces and statures were each observed closely by the NRC dorm leaders as they removed their hoods and quietly chatted amongst themselves. Riddle did not recognize any of them until the final girl in white exited the carriage last with the help of her much taller, more fit senior in the indigo cape. He felt a jolt of electric nerves run through him as she came into view. There she was...Her Highness. Long platinum-blonde hair adorned with small white roses and porcelain doll-like features, it was clear that she was in fact a daughter of the White Queen's court. The photographs and the interviews Riddle had seen in the news did not do her beauty justice, he realized. He also realized that the darker-skinned girl standing next to the princess had caught him staring and was now giving him a mischievous look as she whispered something into the princess' ear. Riddle quickly straightened up and silently scolded himself for such inappropriate behavior, trying to ignore the quiet giggles coming from the girls across from them as the boys began to introduce themselves to their visitors.

"Of course, we have our own esteemed dorm leaders," the female dorm leaders quickly stood at attention as their Headmistress turned on them, "Girls, properly introduce yourselves if you please."

The first to step forward was a very tall, dark golden blonde in a royal blue cape with a beautiful face that held an imperious sapphire-blue gaze that made each of the boys feel a tad nervous. Not that they would show it, of course. 

"Adela de Beau," a slight french accent caressed her voice, "Third year, D'orcorenne Dorm Leader and Literature Club President."

Next, the raven-haired girl in a cerulean cape stepped forward with a bright smile, "Princess Elise Coralette. Third year, Cerulamare Dorm Leader and Wayfairing and Sailing Club President." Riddle noticed the intrigued look in Azul's eyes when Elise mentioned her title and sighed. No doubt the octopus already had done extensive research on each of the girls beforehand but she, in particular, sparked his capital loving interest. 

"Manari Ali!" the girl that had noticed Riddle before skipped forward in a plum-colored cape and waved, "Second year, Almascaber Dorm Leader and Dance Team Captain!" Her energy was infectious. Especially to Kalim who smiled just as big and waved back to her like an excited kid at a parade. 

The next girl stepped forward and playfully nudged Manari as she walked by. She walked with a tall posture even if she wasn't the tallest one there. Her deep brown eyes shined with confidence and even her green cape couldn't properly hide her slender yet athletic build, "Petra Revie. Second year, Gladoverti Dorm leader, Fencing Club President, and Magift Team Captain...oh yeah, and I'm a princess too." She didn't sound nearly as excited about that last detail nor did she bother trying to hide it. Though Petra was obviously the sporty kind of girl, her physique still paled in comparison to the next dorm leader who was clearly some sort of pro. The boys had a lot more trouble not showing their surprise when the very toned, amazon-esqe leader stepped forward with a friendly expression in her crystal blue eyes.

"Hello! I'm Hebe Musa. Third year, Kolossiviri Dorm Leader and Track&Field Team Leader."

Despite her friendly demeanor, the boys swear they heard some error alerts and nervous mumbling sporadically sound from Idia's tablet. The next girl was a stark comparison to Hebe; a petite little thing with bright green eyes and auburn hair worn in a wavy ponytail tied with a pastel yellow ribbon, nervously clutching the hem of her apple red cape. 

"Ch-Charlaine Regalis. Second year, Oscenellus Dorm Leader, and Music Club President, and PR Manager! Um, thankyouverymuch." She quickly turned and rejoined the line, pink in the face as she stared at her feet. The ivory princess gave her a soft smile as she gracefully stepped forward. 

"Princess Reine Castilene," she gave a polite curtsy to the boys and their headmaster, " Second year, Rosabyrine Dorm Leader, Botanical and High Tea Club President. A pleasure to meet you." Her soft voice was as flawless as her manners. Riddle instinctually bowed to her in return without hesitation and the other boys followed suit, some more awkwardly than others. After which the two school administrators quickly got down to business.

"Fine young men indeed," the Headmistress approved pleasantly, "I understand that you are finishing up the final details for the opening day tomorrow. I do hope we aren't troubling you with our early visit. Perhaps you could spare us some time for a tour around the grounds before we meet with Headmaster Ambrose and his students?"

Crowley was more than happy to show off to the leaders of Sacred Crown before those Royal Sword brats showed up to steal their attention away. Especially when there was potential for future collaborations, investments even, and more exposure from the media to be had...not that anyone had to know about that, ahem-hem. 

"Of course! No trouble at all! We at Night Raven College would be absolutely delighted to give you and your charming girls a first glance at our prestigious school's hallowed grounds! Our contributions to this festival are guaranteed to captivate you and your students' senses as well, I have no doubt!"

The boys were almost embarrassed at just how hard Crowley was trying. Well not all of them. Azul's professionally trained smile never faltered as he turned up the charm as well, "As Octavinelle's leader, I personally would like to invite our lovely guests to sample the fine dishes we'll be catering this week first hand at Monstro Lounge. We've already prepared the VIP room just for your visit."  

The girls cooed their interest amongst themselves which caused Kalim to pipe up as well, "Scarabia will be hosting a party after opening day tomorrow! I'm inviting each of you and the other girls in your dorms as well! There's will be music, dancing, and the most delicious food you'll ever taste!" Kalim beamed, not noticing the pointed look Azul shot into the back of the joyful Asim heir's head. Crowley silently huffed to himself as the competitive tension amongst the boys rose more and more. Honestly, the girls haven't even been there more than a few minutes and already these boys were getting all riled up. Typical Teenagers..."AHEM yes yes well no time to waste! Shall we?" Crowley offered the Headmistress his arm in a gentlemanly fashion, keeping up his game face to the max. Typical, indeed.

The girls followed behind the two headmasters alongside the boys, taking the opportunity to chat a bit while the fairy godmother was distracted by Crowley's ramblings. The curious eyes inspected each of the statues as they passed. Manari pointed out the Queen of Hearts to Reine, "Hey look, Reine, it's you in a few years!" she laughed along with Petra, "seriously though isn't she like your great great great great auntie or something?"

Reine paused to look into the Queen's proud face, "Indeed she is. Though I'm a direct descendent of the other side of the family, The White Queen. Or the Queen of Diamonds as she was called in the old days." She continued to walk with the group into the main campus as her fellow dorm leaders stole more precious time to talk freely.

"So given you're pretty deep into the family legacy," Manari gestured to the white roses in Reine's hair and her mostly white attire, "They probably expect you to follow in the White Queen's footsteps huh?"

It was true that the Rose Queendom had been a country divided for many generations between the two houses; Red and White, Hearts and Diamonds. In fact, Reine was not born into her role as heir to the throne, she had won it through demanding trials. The White Queen court was of course ecstatic as it meant another heir from Her Majesty would rule over their land and keep it out of the controlling, chaotic hands of the Red Queen court for another few years. Riddle knew somewhat of how the system worked within his home's vast royal family but not everything. He remembered the polarized responses the citizens had when Reine had been publically announced as their future queen. He and his own family admired the Queen of Hearts, of course, but who were they to speak ill of their princess? Especially now, seeing her in person, Riddle felt at ease just a bit more...though that didn't stop him from quietly eavesdropping on the princess' conversation. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't help but be curiously drawn in by Reine's gentle voice.

"It is tradition for past heirs to honor their Queen's legacies by continuing them in their own reign, yes...I, however, would like to honor both my grandmother and my aunt when I become queen. Hopefully then I, along with every future queen, can be something more than just 'The Red' or 'The White' queens. I wish to be The Rose Queen and unite the Rose Queendom permanently."

She spoke so serenely and yet her passion and conviction were undeniable to those around her. Manari and Petra stood on either side of the princess, making a show just how inspirational her words were.

"How glorious! Such beauty and grace! Our majestic Queen-to-be! Ah!"

"Such fierce determination! Such a noble heart! Your Highness, Your Brilliance!" 

The two girls playfully bowed before her, applauding with sarcastic glee, making her face flush with embarrassment. Adela shooed them and shushed the other giggling girls as they continued walking. Riddle's brain was on fire at this sickeningly casual behavior between the girls and the crown princess. He could not comprehend what he was seeing! But it was short-lived before an even greater panic spread through his mind. Reine had suddenly turned to him and spoke. Wh-what? Why is she looking at me? Wait what did she say?! "F-Forgive me, Your Highness. I didn't quite hear you."

"Riddle Rosehearts, was it?" 

"Yes, Your Highness." 

She smiled softly, "Your dorm fashions itself after The Queen of Hearts' old queendom, doesn't it? I have been looking forward to meeting you and your dormmates since I learned of Heartsabyul. I am unable to enjoy the best qualities of my aunt's legacy very often." Riddle felt a rush of pride but held his composure.

"You are very kind, Your Highness. Heartsabyul would be honored to entertain your company. In fact, I would like to invite you and your dorm to our gardens for a proper tea party during your visit. If...If it would please you, of course."

Riddle's legs nearly gave out as he saw Reine's deep violet eyes sparkle, "Oh yes. That would be wonderful. I'm sure the girls of Rosabyrine will be delighted." 

- 

The Headmistress seemed fully satisfied with the festival grounds...just not with the level of distraction that had quickly spread through her dorm leaders. She sighed as observed the girls excitedly flit about, either distracted by the various booths or by the boys in their company.

"You have a flying carpet?! That's amazing!" Manari and Kalim both beamed so brightly, a thousand suns couldn't touch them. 

"Oooh, and which one is this one??" Elise was very curious about the mushroom terrariums that Jade so proudly displayed at his club's booth area. Azul wasn't too far behind, scolding Floyd for his usual forwardness that was now aimed at the visiting princess. Hebe met a very friendly Ortho and was currently talking about her favorite VR training modules on one side of the avenue while Adela and Leona seemed to barely tolerate the presence of the other nearby. Even with her statuesque senior close by, poor Charlaine couldn't be shielded from Rook's onslaught of poetic praise of Charlaine's singing Magicame account, to which he had already been following for some time, naturally.

"Such a sweet voice! Your singing outshines the very song of the skylark, my dear! I am deeply humbled to be in the presence of such beauty at last!" each syllable practically sparkled off of the passionate hunter. Charlaine's face matched her cape as she mumbled out a flustered word of thanks. Vil found it amusing that someone so shy in person could sing with such grace and confidence online. Granted that did not make him hesitate to spare her by reeling Rook in.

Only Petra and Reine stayed in their original formation by the Headmasters along with Riddle. "Sorry. We don't really get off the island very much," Petra laughed lightly to Riddle who just sighed at his own schoolmates' behavior.  The madness was promptly interrupted by the tap of the Headmistress' wand on her hand to get the girls' attention.

"Now, now girls. Come. Our time here has ended and we must be on our way to meet with our brothers at Royal Sword Academy to finalize our schedules for the following days." The Headmistress ignored the audible moans of disappointment that came from this announcement as she herded the girls back together, "Headmaster Crowley, thank you for your generous time. We shall see you tomorrow for Opening Day." 

"A pleasure, Madam! I have some last minute affairs to attend to before tomorrow but my dorm leaders will see you safely to the gates, of course!"

Reine turned to Riddle to offer a smile as she fell into line beside him, "Your schoolmates are quite interesting. I look forward to the coming days, Riddle Rosehearts." 

He bowed, always the perfect gentlemen, "As do I, Your Highness. You may call me just Riddle though."

"I see. Alright, on one condition...call me Reine," she responded almost impishly. Her grin only grew at the shock on Riddle's face.

"O-oh yes...of course...Rei...Miss Reine." 

He inwardly smacked his own forehead at his stammering as she giggled sweetly. 

"That will do, for now, I suppose."

-

The boys saw the girls and their Headmistress safely back to the front gates but they instinctively tensed up when they saw a stranger wearing a Royal Sword uniform waiting for them there. He was a tall upperclassman with silvery blue hair and calm golden eyes that smiled as soon as the girls came into view. Riddle recognized the black diamond mark by his eye and immediately felt himself bristle a bit. While he didn't know this boy personally, his parents were famous enough to have paid the royal court visits a time or two when he was younger. He remembered the diamond-marked youth who the Queen favored and whose skill the other members of the court couldn't help but praise: Zehn Cavalier.

"Ah Mr. Cavalier, what a lovely surprise," the Headmistress mused as the third year took and kissed her hand with an almost arrogant level of charm. 

"Headmistress, ladies, always a pleasure to see your beautiful faces." 

Not only was he tall, handsome, and famous for his magical skills, but he was impeccably charming. The NRC dorm leaders were disgusted. Riddle fought back an obvious frown with great determination himself as Zehn approached Reine and kissing her hand as well. 

"Your Highness," he said almost reverently before turning to Riddle and the other boys, "Thank you for looking after our dear Sacred Crown sisters, gentlemen. I will escort them from here." 

And with that, their lively visitors said their goodbyes and departed the same way they came with Zehn in tow. Riddle exhaled for what felt like the first time all day and turned to leave for Heartslabyul. Hard as he might try, however, he couldn't get the sweet perfume of white roses to leave his senses.

-----------------------------------------------------------

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The Protogé (Part 3): Toji Fushiguro x Fem!Reader

wc: 1k

tw: fluff (like a tony bit)

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"You will lose your sense of time on the mountain," Toji shouts ahead of you, his black hair whipping in the wind while you trudge through the freezing snow. "Days and nights are the same. You can forget who you are up here, especially in a snowstorm."

"Is that what you did?" you toss back, but Toji refuses to answer. His silence drowns out the biting cold, tainting uncovered skin in light red and indigo hues.

You clutch the knife at your side, holding onto the only source of protection available to you in the bleak midwinter. It's like a lifeline, one that you'll need should danger present itself.

And on the mountain, you know the possibilities are high.

When you look up from your weapon, Toji is gone. Snow powders down on the fresh footfalls.

"T-Toji?" Silence echoes back to you. "You can't just leave me up here by myself!" You half expect the man to reappear and laugh at your frustration, but nothing happens.

The path ahead is purely white. You continue onward, holding your dagger even tighter. The whole ordeal feels unfair, but you don't add to your misery by moping. Instead, you pick up your feet and crunch through the packed frost, cursing Toji in your mind.

Once the trees begin to thin out, the air feels less dense, and you lose your train of thought.

You can forget who you are up here.

Your eyes scan the horizon, the flat grey and white glaring back without mercy. It's empty. No sign of anything except the faint roar of the wind and the crackling of sticks underfoot.

"I'm going to turn around," you announce to no one. You make your way back toward the tree line, gritting your teeth. But before you can re-enter the forest, you stop dead in your tracks.

Fear courses down your spine before settling into the pit of your stomach. Two black eyes stare back at you, holding your gaze for what seems like eons. The bear sniffs the air, takes a few steps toward you, then pauses. Brown fur bristles; you're frozen for a moment. You consider calling out for Toji to save you, but there would be no point. If you cried out, you'd alert the bear to your fear. Should you play dead? Walk backward?

A caw calls your attention, and the bear also looks toward the sound of the bird. An opportunity to escape.

You sidestep out of the sight of the bear and give it wide berth, taking your time climbing down the mountain. Meanwhile, you keep your eye on the massive shape of flesh, praying to whatever is above you that it wouldn't catch your scent again and attempt to attack you.

Toji's absence begins to bother you again, causing you more irritation than anything else. "When I get back," you grunt. "I'm going to make you wish you'd never--"

"'Make me wish I'd never' what?" You nearly crawl out of your skin. The voice that drifts from high up in the trees filters down to you with wood shavings, each piece catching the wind and tumbling into the snow.

"You bastard!" You point a finger at the man lounging on a high branch, his demeanor unaffected and uninfluenced by your rage. "You left me alone to face a bear!"

"I'd never leave you alone. Didn't you hear Kokoro?"

"No," you grit out, shivering. "I didn't see anything! Except for a bear!"

"Oh," Toji muses, dropping the sharpened stick into the snow. "It must've been Kioku, then."

"Where did you go?" You scream, throwing your arms out. "You seem so unaffected by all of this. My life was in danger."

"It wasn't."

"It was!"

"Just because you encountered a bear doesn't mean you were in any real danger. You did the right thing by sidestepping it."

"I--" You pause, clenching your fists at your side. "I want to go home."

"It's about time for dinner, anyways." Toji leaps down from his wooden seat and lands in front of you. "Lead the way, y/n."

The trek feels even longer as you return to the house, and night begins to fall as you enter the home. "Are you hungry?" Your stomach doesn't growl, but the deep feeling of exhaustion settles into your bones as you take a seat by the dead fire.

"Not really," you sigh, closing your eyes. "Why did you have me go up the mountain?" Toji doesn't glance at you while he chucks wood into the hearth.

"Time is different on the mountain," he murmurs. "You need to become comfortable with losing your sense of time while you're on your journey. If you feel like you've wasted it," he grunts with the effort of striking a match. "Then you've lost it. Time is never wasted. Every second you use looking for someone to make use of your time is another second you give away." Toji chuckles, staring into the blooming flames. "But the bear was entirely coincidental."

Another bowl of soup is produced, and Toji sits beside you, warming his bare fingers in the heat. "Eat as much as you'd like. I'm going back out briefly to retrieve the deer I trapped. Stay here." When he leaves, you set the warm bowl aside, staring into the flickering fire with little on your mind except for a reprieve from the grueling day.

You're not sure when you fell asleep nor when Toji returned with the smell of venison and blood on him. But you awaken in his arms, feeling the sinews of his muscles holding you close. Green eyes stare dutifully ahead, and the mask... is gone.

You shut your eyes to avoid looking, but curiosity gets the better of you. You only catch a sliver of a scar on Toji's lips before your skin meets the sheets, and you close your eyes to feign sleep.

Toji mutters something to himself as he covers your frame with a blanket, his voice addled by drowsiness or perhaps his own deep exhaustion. You don't catch the words, but you do feel a hand press to your forehead, smoothing away the hair stuck to your face. He pats your skin once, twice, then lifts his hand and begins to retreat.

You want to call out to the man to ask him to stay for a little while, to tell you a story, even. But before you can muster the courage to reveal your wakefulness, the door shuts, leaving you alone in the darkness.