#snowdrops my BELOVED

[guinevereslancelot]

snowdrop emoji when

[ponyisle]

I think this was a screenie redraw but its been so long i forgor(This was back before i had different names for the ponies, so Wishbright is still called Luna here!)also YES that is snowdrop from the hit short film: snowdrop

introducing the Sleepy Circus! One of my favorite aspects of my AU. its a circus act created by Wishbright before her banishment. She initially designed it for Snowdrop in particular. It was mainly a sensory experience, soft twinkling stars, the gentle billowing of clouds. It's visuals were secondary to how it was intended to make the ponies feel while they drifted off. After seeing how much Snowdrop enjoyed it she started whisking away any ponies who were struggling with nightmares or sleep issues. The circus quickly became her pride and joy. Even neglecting some of her royal duties to put on performances.

Daybreak immediately recognized how many of her subjects were suffering from nightmares after Wish was banished. In an attempt to bring back the Circus she created new acts and performances. Changed the performer's dreary blue and purple uniforms for something brighter. Found a new pony to act of the ringleader in place of her sister.

The show went on after Wish left. But it was never quite the same. By the time she returned both her Circus and her beloved Snowdrop were gone.

Caption from instagram: "Introducing the sleepy circus! created by Luna before her banishment. It’s a circus act that helps ponies in their sleep, providing laughter and comfort as they drift off into their dreams. Before lunas banishment she was the ringleader, guiding the performances and creating new members. Celestia realized very quickly that Luna being gone and the circus having no leader led to her subjects having frequent nightmares, so she created Kitty to be the new ringleader. The circus survives but it’s not the same, and all the previous members feel it.. PimPim is particularly torn up after Luna is banished."

[sh1-n0bu]

𝔫𝔬𝔟𝔲’𝔰 𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔨𝔱𝔬𝔟𝔢𝔯 𝔬𝔣 2023!

day 18: vanilla with gepard landau from hsr

warnings: very very very soft and gentle, riding, p in a hole, praise, lots of praise and handholding, coming inside

notes: berserk’s casca and guts lovemaking scene</3😔

being the ever so reliable captain of the silvermane guards is extremely time consuming and exhausting. he wishes to spend more time with you, his beloved and his spouse but he rarely can with his work schedule. so each and every day offs or festival day offs, gepard spends his time trying to make it up to you for always being away on work.

the cons of being married to a man who’s always needed by his country. but you understand and gepard could have never been happier in his life. and you understand everything he does too. he always thanks every aeons there are out there whenever he catches a glimpse of the wedding band sitting snuggly around his ring finger.

but nothing would ever hold a candle to the sight of you in his lap, both smiling and giggling as you talk of everything. anything that comes into your minds. movies, books, new food recipes — everything and anything.

bare with no fabrics to keep you away from each other. face to face and heart to heart. gepard always makes sure to support your weight and try to lessen your load with his strong arms wrapped snuggly around your waist. leaves gentle kisses on every part of your skin he could reach.

it’s gentle. the way you would lift your hips up slightly before grinding down back on him again. hips meeting his in a gentle rhythm as your warm walls clamp down on his hard cock.

it’s loving. in the ways that gepard would let out soft groans and breathy whimpers of your name. in the ways that his hand, shaking and trembling from the sheer amount of adoration he holds for you, as his reach out. hands that are marred with scars and calloused skin would hold each others. two similar wedding bands in the ring fingers of the hands.

it’s affectionate. in the ways gepard bucks his hips up to meet yours halfway. strong muscular arms supporting your weight as he helps you roll your hips down onto his.

it’s revering. in the ways that gepard would trail butterfly kisses from your collarbone, up your neck and to your chin. once at your face, he would litter your face in kisses all over before finally coming in contact with your own.

his touch is always tender with you, afraid that he might hurt you or cause you to feel unloved. you never do. not when gepard is there to kiss the flush of your cheeks, moaning praises about how good you feel. how beautiful you are. how he is such a lucky man to ever have a spouse like you. how he would do anything you ask of him and all you would need to do being a simple gaze or a smile.

landaus keep their word and would never falter. and gepard would be damned if he doesn’t protect your smile. your laugh. your little snores when you cuddle together. your little tears when you cut an onion. your frustration when you see your favorite character of a book be killed off.

gepard landau is a man of his word. a landau never backs down on their words and gepard would never back down on showing his devotion to you.

you, his eternity. you, his sunshine that wakes him up in the morning with your sleepy voice and bed head. you, his cloudy day when things become a little bit too much on work. you, his midnight snowdrops when the festive times of christmas rolls around.

you, his spouse. you, his heart.

with a one harsh thrust inside you that caused you to let out a sharp moan of his name, the captain lets out his own loud whines as he comes deep inside you. catching your breaths together in the warm embrace of each other’s sweat clung skin, the blonde couldn’t help but let out a small chuckle when he realizes the date. placing an almost shy peck on your cheek, his blue eyes crinkle upwards as his pink lips spread in a wide smile that’s so damn infectious.

“merry christmas, my love.”

[i-am-countess-olivia]

Another lunchtime adventure looking for traces of James Fitzjames in Brighton. This time I set out to see the resting place of his beloved brother William.

The headstone near the Woodvale Cemetery’s North Chapel is gone, cleared to make a garden sometime in the 1970s - thank you @jamesfitzjamesdotcom for this valuable insight. Still, somewhere under my feet, in the bramble and ivy sprawl and the snowdrops that are just beginning to blink open, rest the Coninghams.

I spent some time reading inscriptions on graves tucked around the garden - sometimes when stones are cleared they are merely relocated. No luck.

Take it from an old goth: always make a point of standing over the bones of your long perished historical darlings and having a little chat. Wherever you are, William: hello, I was here, it’s almost spring.

[kierenkowe]

Really proud of this redraw of the part of the scene my beloved custom Snowdrop is in ^__^ (reference under cut)

chillin'

[samuraiko]

He's Still Gone, I'm Still Here

So a Twitter friend of mine asked for a vignette of Keyleth dealing with the PTSD of her time in Vox Machina, and my mind kept going back to something that Matt had said and that Marisha had loved. And from that came this.

---

Twelve hours later…

She lies in her bed, the massive furred form of Trinket curled up around her, protecting her as though she were one of his cubs. She can still hear the songs of the people of Vasselheim outside her window, singing of victory and gratitude. But she still feels the cold, still feels the emptiness.

He's still gone. I'm still here.

Two weeks later…

She lies in her bed, too exhausted to wash away the dust and blood from her foray into Pandemonium. She can still the voice of an elven woman in the back of her mind, talking of loss and comfort and pain. And still she feels the cold, still feels the emptiness.

He's still gone. I'm still here.

Eight months later…

She lies in her bed, her eyes fixed upon the massive cherry blossom tree that stands in the distance. She remembers the slight weight of a raven on her shoulder, its cool feathers beneath her fingers, its beak against her cheek. And still she feels the cold, still feels the emptiness.

He's still gone. I'm still here.

Six months later…

She lies in her bed, the covers pulled tightly over her head, though she can still smell the warm, salt-kissed sea breeze of Shamal Bay outside, still hear the soft susurring of the waves against the shore. She can still hear that voice, that beloved, beautiful voice, so warm against her ear as her own words failed her. So many things she wanted to say, and so few moments to say them. And still she feels the cold, still feels the emptiness.

He's still gone. I'm still here.

Days and months and years later…

She lies in her bed, guilt tearing her in two, the warring emotions of joy and love and grief and anger and regret and frustration burning the tears from her eyes. She can still hear her mother's voice, not just a memory anymore but real, but deep, deep down, she wishes it had been someone else coming through that tree, running to her, arms outstretched, pulling her close. And still she feels the cold, still feels the emptiness.

He's still gone. I'm still here.

Another year later…

She lies in her bed, eyes and nose red from crying, the taste of too much ale in her mouth from celebrating the completion of the Crisis Orbs and the Widow's Garden and the Snowdrop Memorial Trail. She can still hear Percy and Vex's speeches, and then afterward, in private, their shared grief and mourning. And still she feels the cold, still feels the emptiness.

He's still gone. I'm still here.

And another year later…

She lies in her bed, wounded and exhausted beyond all imagining after the attack, the smell of blood and death and rage still simmering in the air like heat above the desert. She can still hear the cries and wails and chants and prayers from outside as soul after Ashari soul are sung to the afterlife, but she also can still hear, whether real or just her imagination, the sound of feathered wings rushing just behind her, out of sight. And still she feels the cold, still feels the emptiness.

He's still gone. I'm still here.

Six years later…

She lies in her bed, battered, poisoned, clinging to life, though whether out of a desire to live or a refusal to die or sheer spite against Ludinus Da'leth and Otohan Thull and Liliana Temult, she cannot say. She can hear the anxious whispers of her retainers, of the herbalists, of the Master of Defense marshalling the Tempest Blades, but even louder in her ears, drowning out all else, she hears an agonized scream that echoes unrelentingly in her memory. And still she feels the cold, still feels the emptiness.

He's still gone. I'm still here.

A few months later…

She lies in her bed, the massive furred form of Trinket curled up around her, protecting her as though she were one of his cubs. She can still hear the songs of the people of Vasselheim outside her window, singing of hope and of faith. But now she feels the cold turn to fire, feels the emptiness filled by a singular, all-consuming, all-encompassing purpose, and a familiar rage that burns hotter than the sun.

He's... he's... I'm still here. I'm still here. I'm still here I'm still here I'mstillhereI'mstillhereI'mstillhere...

[aurorasgate]

nothing between us

aka skin to skin cuddling <3 ayatos kinda got away from me so sorry that it's longer than kaeyas glkshdl

kaeya alberich + kamisato ayato (seperate) x reader with no pronouns used

warnings: hurt/comfort themes, skinship, nudity but nothing sexual, needy kaeya, reader being injured (ayato), i don't think anything else but please let me know if i missed something!

kaeya

a hard knock followed by many softer ones against your apartment door pulls your attention away from the pages of your book. you might have been upset at the hour this visitor decided to stop by, late into the night long after the sun had set when only silver moonlight and golden flickers of flames are left to light your room, but if it was who you thought and wished it to be you could hardly find it in yourself to be angry. not when your heart longed to see him on his way home from the tavern and you wonder if somehow, in the tangle of your souls, he had heard your call for him.

the story you had been reading was once again hidden within the bound parchment as you lay it closed on your nightstand with the bookmark your knight had gifted you holding your place. sliding from the warm sheets of your bed and into the cooling evening air you don’t waste a moment hurrying to the door and can’t help but chuckle at his cute drunken pleas for you to let him in. 

“snowdrop, have you gone off without me?” he pouts while you unlock the door, a hint of.. actual sadness in his tone that you hadn’t expected to hear and question if you had imagined it in the first place.

“my sleuthing knight says as if he wouldn’t have already known had i ‘gone off,’” you smile and tease, opening the door to your beloved bathed in moonlight and resting against the doorframe looking as beautiful as an archon; hand crafted by celestia itself and smelling of sweet wine but still you felt that melancholy in the air around him. even through his soft skin and deep azure eyes he couldn’t hide what he normally kept so tucked away from others, not from you.  “and there is nowhere i am going without you my love.” 

without thinking your hand reaches for him, the pads of your fingers brushing along the tanned and heated skin of his cheek, his uncovered eye softening under your touch. even intoxicated he’s quick to react, his hand grabbing yours and skilled fingers curling into your palm before using his strength to pull you close, your cheek resting against his exposed chest, his other arm wrapped around your middle to keep you pressed so tightly against him. the suddenness of it steals your breath and has you clinging to him for stability.

“you also said you wouldn’t keep me waiting but here i was all alone in the cold,” he whispers quietly; almost as if you weren’t meant to hear it, like he had wanted to say more or perhaps something he couldn’t quite voice. he squeezes you hard, letting go of your hand and resting it against his chest so he can pull you closer into him, not even letting the wind between you.

you can feel the hard thumping of a heart, can hear it in your ears but there was no telling if it belonged to you or him.

“kae..”

with his face nuzzled into the crook of your neck that familiar flirty tone returns to him but his grip on you doesn’t lessen even a little. “aren’t you going to invite me in, dove?”

even though it’s only for a few moments you hate to part from him and he seems just as reluctant to let you go but with a loving smile that has his chest skipping far too many beats, melting the worries that he draped around his heart like frozen rain, you lead him by the hand through the door, down the hall and into the place kaeya had found himself constantly wanting to be; the room that held your trinkets, your favorite books, the blanket thats fibers lingered with your familiar scent and reminded of him of home.

he doesn’t speak a word as he follows at your heels, nor as he sits on the edge of your bed and begins to take off his boots. you watch with soft eyes, taking in your every inch of handsome knight, thinking about how he looks and smells like the normal kaeya you saw everyday, the kaeya he showed most people but still you couldn’t help that feeling that tugged at your soul and told you something was wrong or how badly you ached to take away every bit of his worries, his uncertainties.

resting on your shins you take a place next to him and stop his movements with a light tug to his sleeve, your fingers barely holding onto the fabric but he was always so focused on you the lightest of touches from you would have been enough to have his full attention.

“is everything okay?” you ask, your tender eyes full of love, your tone unwavering even though you’re unsure if he will let you in and allow you to share his burdens. you know it wasn’t like him to speak out his weakness, though you wouldn’t call them that but it would never stop you from offering to help in any way you can.

“now, now, you don’t need to worry about me doll,” he avoids your question with a smile and a bat of thick dark lashes that might have worked as they intended had you not been so determined to remind him that he was not alone in this world and never would be again.

“that doesn’t answer my question, you know.”

he gazes into your eyes and you swear you see the unease within him vanish the longer he looks at you, the closer it becomes to nothing being between you as he closes the distance. chilled fingers half goved reach out for you and still without answering your question he guides you into his lap with a quiet ‘come here’, your legs straddling his, his arms around your waist. once again he buries his face into the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin as he hesitates to speak.  

“.. everything is fine now,” he whispers and you can hear the truth behind his words, feel the way his body untenses under your touch. you feel his hands slide under your shirt to feel your bare skin against his hands and you lean into him to provide him with every bit of you. “can i.. just hold you for a while?”

“of course you can. you never need to ask,” you reply, your heart feeling as though it might burst right out of your chest at the shyness he hardly showed to anyone. you held him tighter then, the smell of his shampoo filling your senses, your nose tickling against his soft blue locks.

your chest immediately blossoms with heat when you feel the upward tug of your shirt and even though you aren’t entirely sure why he was undressing you when he asked such an innocent request, you easily follow his movements and lift your arms to let him take your oversized shirt off of you. 

“what ar-”

before you can say anything more his face is pressed against your exposed chest, the intoxicated heat of his cheeks making you feel like you might be seconds away from melting but his cold fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your back keep you from slipping from his grasp, freezing you in this moment and his next words, muffled against your skin like a child trying to subtly ask for help even though it is desperately needed, bends you to his will.

“.. want to be closer to you..” 

without asking or saying anything more, with loving and chaste touches, sweet kisses and fluttering eyes, you help each other out of your remaining clothes. your hands gently mapping out the scars on his skin as you unfasten the belts of his outfit, let your fingers slide against him when guiding off his shirt. his lips place the evidence of his love, his need, for you onto each place he uncovers, his skilled and calloused hands running over every dip and curve of your body until you’re both bare and your bodies are pressed impossible close under your duvet.

skin to skin. heart to heart. breaths as one.

his hands and lips never wander or ask for more than the feeling of your skin and they never once leave you. he doesn’t show any signs of wanting to share what weighed so heavily on him tonight but you didn’t need to know to give him every ounce of your deviation or truth of your feeling for him and you do just that, as you wanted to for the rest of your life. 

each moment that passes, the night growing darker, he returned to his smiling, teasing, slightly tipsy self and it isn’t long before you’re sharing giggles, deep kisses filled with the taste of the wine he drank at the tavern tonight and reminders of your love for one another until your words become slow, your breath fanning against him becomes deep and you drift to sleep in his arms. 

the peaceful rise and fall of your chest, the warmth of your skin against his without a single barrier between you. the way you hold him, the smile on your sleeping lips. all of it solidifies in his weary mind that it truly wasn’t a lie when he told you everything was okay and without warning your sleeping visage begins to pull him into a sweet dreamland of a future filled with your boundless love for one another, a love that tonight he so deeply felt he didn’t deserve and nearly convinced himself it was slipping right through his fingers until he saw you smile at him, heard you call him yours.

in a tired voice he whispers against the crown of your head and closes his eyes, letting the last of his anxieties go, “as long as you are by my side it will always be okay..” 

ayato

the yashiro commissioner usually didn’t pay much mind to the late hour of the evening. it was pointless to watch the clock tick by slowly when there was so much paperwork to be done and he would be up late doing it regardless of how far the night drew on but today he could hardly keep his eyes off of the clock arms slowly moving to later and later hours without your return.

he wasn’t particularly fond of your plans today, going on a commission that would likely require you to fight simply because the requester asked for you by name. there was no need for you to work, not with ayato as your fiance and the thriving kamisato estate as your home but, in your spirit to explore and use your skills to help others, your thoughtfulness and splendor - which he loved so dearly about you - of course you agreed to take the commission. 

with his own duties it was near impossible for him to join you but that didn’t stop him from dispatching a top member of the shuumatsuban to go with you in his absence, even though you had argued that it was unnecessary. in the end you had wiggled your way from what you called ‘far too many ninjas’ following in your shadows to just the one, one ayato trusted very much but still, the longer time went by without word of your return, the more the unease began to bubble within him and eventually, as the sun began to set behind the waters that surrounded narukami island, he decided to take matters into his own hands. 

he was in the courtyard adjusting the strap on his shoulder plate, telling thoma and another retainer of his plans to head to the place you were commissioned to go when he heard a guard yell your name and saw a flurry of purple armor run towards the gates of the estate. the commissioner was quick to follow after them, looking so elegant and collected in each step he took as the guards parted for him but inside it felt as though he was moments from losing himself to the way his heart pounded so hard against his rib cage and his wandering mind bringing him to scenarios that were normally reserved for his dreams and yet were still so familiarly apart of his reality; where everyone he loves has and would be taken from him. where his power, his honed strength, his unmatched cunning, everything he ever has been and ever would be, would not be enough to save any of you.

you finally come into view, the dark armor of the shuumatsuban on your back nearly engulfing you as your tired legs struggled to keep you both upright, the ninjas larger motionless body weighing you down, his arms slung over your shoulders and ayato runs faster than any of the guards. if they had gotten a glimpse of his visage as he ran past they just might have seen his agony turning his violet eyes a deep royal purple.

he catches you both against his chest just as your legs give away, a mumble of his name falling from your chapped lips as your head meets his chest, relief and happiness behind your heavy breathes. his black dress shoes scrape against the carved path under the weight of you both against him but it’s only a split moment before the hands of the other guards are lifting the seemingly lifeless ninja off of your back and your beloved scoops you into his arms.

confirming words that the ninja was alive, that healers were on their way and that you had been secured by the commissioner all rattle loudly in front of ayato but he hardly hears any of it as he looks down at you, eyes hidden from the rest of the world by light blue bangs. they scan over every inch of you, noting every bruise, every cut, every patch of dirt on your sweat beaded skin. all while he lets his muscles still pulsing with adrenaline guide you both back to the safety of the estate.

“it’s okay, i’m okay,” you reassure him with a smile that meets your eyes, even though the constraint of speaking on your burning lungs makes it hurt to get the words out. ayatos tight and trembling grip on you isn’t helping the pressure against your aching body but you don’t ask him to stop, not when he’s looking at you like you might be leaving him behind in this world when in fact you were just exhausted beyond all belief. it hurts to lift your arm but you use the last bit of strength you have to do so and let your shaking fingers caress his cheek, finally bringing the violet eyes you love so much to look into your own. “i’m okay.”

“it appears our definitions of ‘okay’ are not quite the same my dear.” it’s the first words he’s spoken since he caught you; the only words he could find at your ridiculous notion of what ‘okay’ meant, at the relief within his own being at hearing the words despite not totally agreeing with them.

“alive and not seriously injured sounds pretty okay to me,” you say with a chuckle, trying to hide the way you wince at the pain of it. but you meant it, you really did, even if he didn’t believe you yet. 

with your head resting against his chest, his strong arms under your legs and at your back keeping you safe, the sleeves of his coat fluttering behind him, he makes his way through the doors of your home and down the hall to your shared bedroom with attendants at his heels awaiting orders.  

thoma disperse them the deeper into the estate you go, the man holding you never once taking his eyes off of you as the housekeeper delegating tasks to keep the estate running smoothly and soon, when the door to your bedroom closes quietly and thoma leads the remaining worried attendants away, you’re left in the care of your beloved.

he doesn’t miss a moment of your recount of the events that you tell while waiting for the healer, how everything had ended well but the fight to get home was overwhelming. you swore the amount of enemies was never ending and told him of how it had resulted in your ninja companion being knocked out cold. ayato holds you the entire time, piecing together every bit of information you provide him to ensure that one, this does not happen again and two, that those who laid their hands on you would be paid back tenfold.

he only lets you go, albeit reluctantly, once the trusted doctor of the kamisato estate arrives and begins to look you over. while the doctor does her work you watch ayato shed his gloves and see how his hands no longer shake but behind his eyes each time he glances back at you, you can still see his worry. you watched as he took off his coat that was now sullied with the same dirt on your own clothes. slowly, meticulously, he takes off the other many layers he wears until only his light purple undershirt remains and he rolls the expensive fabric up to his elbow before disappearing into the bathroom.

the doctor chuckles low hearing the noises coming from the other room; running water, the opening and closing of many drawers and different boxes, the tapping of ayatos shoes as he makes his way from place to place.

“lady kayo would fuss over their father just the same whenever he got hurt,” she says with a nostalgic smile but doesn’t make any further comments as the current lord of the estate returns to the room to hear confirmation of what you’ve been trying to tell him; you’re okay, just a bit, okay maybe more than a bit, beat up and in need of rest. 

you feel your chest warm at her words as she talks to ayato about your condition and for a moment you forget about your aching bones or dirt covered skin, all that lingers within you is your fluttering heart at the thought of the love he holds for you. 

ayato is attentive to every word the doctor says, every recommendation to help ease your discomfort, the information about the medicine she’ll prepare and have sent to your room, all the while his eyes are focused on you and you alone. eventually you have to look away from him, feeling your entire body grow weaker under his gaze and your breath become harder to catch. you swear you see a smirk on his lips the last moment before your eyes focus on other familiar fixtures and trinkets in your room.

when it’s just the two of you once more, he returns you to the place within his arms, strong muscles flexing underneath you as he effortlessly lifts you up and carries you to the bathroom that was steaming with hot water from the shower and smelling of sakura blossoms and a hint of tea tree coming from the open medical container. he sets up down on the counter next to the many supplies he had laid out and even though you swear your body aches in a different way than fro your wounds when he lets you go, you know he has important duties to return to.

“thank you ayato, i’ve got it from h-  oh -,” you try to tell him you’ve got it but you are cut off when his pale gloveless fingers reach for your shirt and somehow he feels closer than he did when he was bringing you in here, his deep breaths fanning against your skin, the rise and fall of his chest almost deep enough to touch you, the heat of his entire body mixed with the steam from the shower making your mind fuzzy.

“am i not allowed to care for you now, hm?” you can hear the smile he wears even though there’s evidence of his unease behind his words.

“no! no, it's not that!” you protest all too quickly and imagine it likely made him smile. it did. and you get to see his pink lips and pearly whites showing in a tender yet teasing smirk when his index finger touches your jaw and pulls your gaze to meet his. you stutter under his unbridled, undivided attention, focusing on the mark resting below his lips rather than his eyes. “it’s just.. i.. you have more important things to attend to and i- i’ll be f-”

he interrupts you again but this time with his words and your heart stalls at the conviction behind them. “there is nothing in this world that is more important to me than you, my darling.” he thumb ghosts along your bottom lip and brings your eyes back to his, leaving you on bated breath, your hands reaching out to him to help keep you upright. “so i will not be going anywhere.”

it makes you want to cry, his words, the way he so tenderly removes every bit of your clothes and then his own before carrying you into the awaiting shower. its as if the events of the day were finally catching up to you and now that you were here, safely with the arms of ayato, warm water running through your dirty hair and over your bruised skin, his thoughtful hands cleaning every bit of you with the utmost care, you could finally let it all out.

“i’ve got you,” he hushes you sweetly when he sees the tears rolling down your cheeks, pressing your body closer to his so that not even the smallest droplets of water could get through, in a grasp that told you he needed it just as badly as you did.

you hold onto him, your arms painfully protesting from the force you put behind it but the pain is dull compared to the love that flows between you, like rain filling a once bare lake that held your two beating hearts within its now overflowing depths. 

and like the purest of rain water that he himself had created just for you, his love continued to pour over you, keep you cradled within its waters. he carried you from the shower and dried your body with such gentleness and the softest towel he could find, not letting you lift a muscle. his fingertips ran soothing ointment over every scratch and cut before wrapping them in soft cotton and placing loving kisses to every single injury.

your entire being was filled with comfort and rupture by the time he was finished and as he yet again scooped you into his arms, you melted into his exposed chest and traced the lines of ink on his skin with tired fingers, feeling the steady beat of his heart under your touch. 

“thank you ayato,” you whisper, feeling the sands of sleep lulling you in a welcoming embrace, the familiar scent of your beloved lingering within the threads of the bed sheets filling your nose. he might not have said it but you know how important the work he needed to attend to was and how much more work he would need to put in to catch up. all just so he could look after you.

“i was simply doing what i would alway do for you, my love. there’s no need to thank me,” he says earnestly, setting you into the plush sheets and following after you not a moment later, his touch unable to leave you and you’re thankful for that too. 

“no clothes?” you question when he pulls the covers over your both still naked bodies and presses himself flush against you, mindful of your injuries but still so incredibly close, like he knew it was exactly what you needed and craved. you didn’t mind of course, but it wasn’t what you had expected.

the smell of fresh sheets and your shampoo fill the space, warm and soft skin melting against your own, familiar but not something you get to feel nearly as much as either of you wanted, cradling you in the embrace of your beloved.

“not tonight,” not when i need to feel you against me. and though it wasn’t what he voiced, the emotions behind his words, the way his arms wrapped around you and held you against him, feeling every last bit of you, proof that you were okay and still beside him, said it all. 

genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist

[coyotelip]

yay thanks to @ultravioletbrit for tagging ♡

new year snippet ☆

new part for my memory loss au "my beloved ghost and me"

Despite his unconscious state, he can feel the boy's heart beating hard in his chest, like a bird trying to get out, to escape from the cage of snow-white ribs. Life is trying to leave Regulus, but still remains imprisoned in his body.

His lips are blue snowdrop petals on the snow. A small symbol of spring coming to James in such an unexpected way. He pays attention to every scratch on his face and hands, to the cuts on his legs, and thinks about their origin. The ragged wounds do not look like the result of any spell he knows. And with the experience of real magical warfare behind him, James thinks he now knows all the existing attack spells. He has seen what the wounds they cause look like. He has seen people die from these wounds. He has inflicted them himself.

The sight of unfamiliar damage confuses James, but at the same time gives him an unexpected relief and peace of mind in knowing that there is still some evil he has not yet discovered on this earth. That he is not completely tainted by all the existing filth among humanity. He allows this thought to envelop him.

In the end, James wonders about everything but the most important thing. The elephant in the room is breathing heavily on his back - how did Regulus Black end up on his doorstep after being considered dead for months?

np tags ☆ @jeguluses @jmeslovr @emlovessid @w1tch3-writes ☆

[neverniko101]

💌send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome.💌

A

TY

I’M PINGING ALL OF YOU

@swapsans2007 / @swapsansbengyswaptale / @skitswap / (all the same person, I think?)

@ravioli-randomness RAVEN MY BELOVED

@bunningchaos FRIEMBD

@leafwateraddict WHY IS THERE TEA IN YOUR BLOOD THAT DOESNT SOUND HEALTHY

@cas-spirit BE PROUD OF YOUR ART

@snowdrop-wolf 🫵

@infinitrix YOU ARE A SILLY LITTLE FELLOW /pos

@soul100 @levi-weaver @raptornoturno @yellowrabbitfurry TY FOR ENGAGING WITH MY SILLY HORROR SKELES (also cheesecake anon if you see this!)

@laizimoon DON’T KNOW YOU THAT WELL BUT YOU’VE BEEN LIKING MY POSTS SINCE THE BEGINNING OF TIME

@someverygaymoth MOTHS ARE THE SUPERIOR ANIMAL

@100percentevil sorry I think I found %0.0000001 good in you so you’ll have to change your name to 99.9999999percentevil

@marblez-art-studio IM SO EXCITED FOR COMIC

I’M SO SORRY I CAN’T PING MORE OF YOU I’M ACTIVELY WORKING AS I WRITE THIS POST JUST KNOW THAT I APPRECIATE YOU

[silentshadows2002]

Hello all my little Shadows!

So for this week's artwork i decided to do a little bit of fan art, specifically of Princess Luna in her old original form, and Snowdrop from the Snowdrop animation on YouTube, a beloved fan character being a blind filly pegasus who made the first snowflake, and i know it's fan-made, but a part of me just considers it cannon because Snowdrop is precious and deserves all the love in the world.

[vibinsane]

actually this is how it'll be

@dawnbreakersgaze would be my snowflower

@rose-tinted-kalopsia would be my snowdrop

they are beloved wifeys and absolute angels

therefore... they are my snow angels.

[mydahliarose]

Holiday sickness 🪽🃏

Pairings: niiri x Michael/miiri oc x canon

Tags: fluff, passionate kissing, no smut, exorcists first appearance (my ocs).

Fandoms: what in hell is bad?

Synopsis: Michael gets sick thus niiri must tend to him with the help of her friends, however little does she know his sickness was all part of his plan to have all her attention especially with a mistletoe she cant escape.

It was a quite day in town where the exorcists church resided on, snowdrops resting upon there rooftops as icicles formed outside there courtyard. While cold wind blew across there home, the inside of there cathedral however, echoed of the radio playing old holiday cheers of vintage times. Christmas was right around the corner so naturally it was time to set up all decorations within there perimeter. Sounds of ornaments jingled around when placed upon the Christmas tree, niiri tiptoed on the ladder everytime she placed one higher. They where your typical holiday decors, from red and gold to white and red stripped candy cane. Of course cant forget the angels and snowflakes to make it all more unique, once the Doll demon had nearly finished dolling up the tree with her joyful creativity, all was left was to place he star up the tree. Carefully returning up towards the tree about to place it just about right, it was a simple and quick task that should be done and over with. that all went straight to the gutter when out of the blue, Thiago the maestro himself ran towards the hallway sounding frantic for help that niiri got the jumpscare of a lifetime, falling of the ladder landing straight into he arms of he exorcist. Before Thiago could even apologize then explain himself niiri shouted.

'' you nearly broke me like a hard boiled egg Thiago! Your arms where the only redeeming factor of this incident!. Why have you come to ruin the Christmas spirit with your musical theatrics!?''. she crossed her arms, while looking at him in an annoyed manner. niiri wouldn't kill him, no infact she values his friendship a lot to not throw him out like that. Thiago along with Merewyn and their priest were the only ones that knew of their little sinful secret due to the trust they each had for each other. To put it short and simple they were open minded of their situation so much so they'd protect them if their forbidden love was ever discovered from demons or closed minded individuals. '' Ay niiri! I didn't mean to scare you but this is urgent! Its Michael he's...'' gets down on his knees, with this action the whole church felt transformed into a stage with nothing but ellipsoidal lights beaming towards them, a dramatic scene of a play about to commence almost. '' he's...HES SICK! HE SAID HES BEEN FEELING HOT AND WOOZY ALL MORNING HASNT LEFT THE BED AT ALL!.'' upon hearing this on the one hand...how can an angel fall sick like a regular human being? Perhaps if he was like Tinkerbell who grows sick without attention then ok she believes it. on the other hand however there is no time for her to think rationally, her beloved dove needed her aide thats what is important right now !.

Niiri shoves Thiago away, freeing herself from his arms running in the speed of light towards their room. '' do me a favor and put that star on top of the tree! If i don't see it when I get back I'll break your instruments!.'' a scream of begging for mercy cried through Thiago's mouth while holding onto his beloved guitar. she slams the door open to find Michael unsurprisingly with an arm covering his head while breathing weakly through his mouth, overall bieng dramatic to seek the attention of his lover to tend to him. Niiri leans across the doorway crossing her arms with a smirk forming her lips. '' aww my angel~ is this because I told you I'd be to busy today tending to the cathedrals decoration?''

He very weakly lifts up his arm to take a good look at her, his eyes screamed for her attention so he upped it up by curling himself to the side, summoning his wings to shelter himself. Of course it worked, and he loved it when it did the moment her giggles creeped closer to his side. '' I'll take that as a yes~ now show me that beautiful face of yours~.'' his wings flapped a bit, the feeling of pure love overtaking his feathers. If he was red from sickness then he was ever more so now than ever. When he unveiled himself, is eyes were sultry, yet tiresome. Face while red, he was paler than usual, how on earth did he get this sick? It couldn't have been from the winter solstice now can it? '' my sweet doll...'' he cups her face giving her a weak smile. '' now that you're here with me I feel as though my fever might finally vanish...'' checking his temperature with her hands he certainly did feel warmer than usual. '' I am your guardian angel after all~.'' with a kiss placed on his forehead, her lips felt hot. '' was it just this morning you began to feel this way? Cmon Mikey you can tell me if you felt offended that I would be taking my time to help decorate the place! I would hate to see your frown be upside down...''. she made the same desperate face he usually does in moments like this.

Michael sighed. not out of irritation but annoyance because yes indeed, how dare she neglect him for other duty's!? Even hough there together almost twenty four seven, if niiri ever left for a moment he became ungodly irritated because the joy of his life dared do other things!. He cant deny that her helping the church, for a demon like herself was a wholesome sight to behold, and a life changing event for him. '' of course it is doll, otherwise I wouldn't be drowning in my own feverish sweat now would i ?.'' he wasn't kidding, his pure white pajamas was soaked in his own dampness. Even his luchious hair was drenched, his own halo was flickering on and off, struggling to stay on that sometimes it would fade way then come back. '' oh boy...yeah you certainly need a bath soon, your giving me dog sitting in the rain vibes and I don't like it...''. Michael chuckled at her mental image of him. '' whats next, your gonna tell me that your playing in the arms of your angel in your head now whenever I look like this?.'' now both party's begin laughing. '' you caught me Angelica!.'' Michael embraces her in his sickly moisture.'' its not so hard to read you sometimes.''

Nuzzling close to each other in bed, niiri realized nows not the time, she needed to nurture him asap!. Before he could even move up the sound of a bowl bieng placed was heard, she turned. It was Thiago helping out niiri so she wouldn't overwork herself. '' sorry to disturb you two, I only came here to drop this of-.'' '' OUT WITH YOU NOW!.'' michaels loudness caused him to cough roughly, niiri lifted him up to rub his back. '' jeez, Thiago bring me that throat spray will ya?.'' michael gave Thiago a sharp killer look upon hearing that.

"don't you even THINK about it.....'' who could blame poor Michael that medicine is disgusting. Welp he already knew of Michaels temper thus expected this behaviour o happen but that still dosent stop from Thiago bieng a little on edge when it happens, ultimately leading I'm to rub the back of his neck while chuckling nervously. '' arch angel relax! If that what's needed in order to cure you then it must be done! ,Think about it...wouldn't god want you to get better no matter what it takes?.What's to say perhaps this is one step ahead for your well bieng?.'' niiri looks at Michael. '' he's right, god would want his angel of justice to get better in no time and fight out in hell again! Plus...its really not the same when your not with me in battle, it makes me feel....'' she wraps her arms around his shoulder, leaning her head against his.'' lonley~...''. his eyes widen feeling that sense of needed by somone, he could never deny niiri. '' fine...Thiago fetch me all the medicine in this church, and do take a while I want to be alone a bit...'' shifting his pupils to niiri then back at Thiago.It was obvious he wanted to be alone and be lovey dovey with her.

Thiago chuckled again. '' ok ok as you wish!, I'll leave you two be~.'' he winked at them , Michael groaned in annoyance from it while niiri just laughed like a harlequin. '' ahh that maestro always so kind.'' michael rolled his eyes. ''More like obnoxious....'' he plopped back down, staring up the ceiling. '' well then I suppose since we got time for ourselves now..'' she grabs the bowl of soup, circling around he broth to get all its nutritions. Once the spoon was full she moved it towards his lips. '' its time I tend to my patient~.'' with a playful tone creeping up, it was Michaels cue to act up the same way. He takes the spoonful of broth chicken soup, while also expecting her to praise him for it. As if manifested thanks to god, niiri pats his head, continuing to so with the next spoon coming through. '' my good sickly boy~ look how well your cooperating with me~ god and I are truly proud of you, once this bowl is done you'll take your medicine like the good blood thirsty angel you are yeah?.'' Michael blushed in her praise, the euphoric excitement was to much that he threw himself to hold her all while nuzzling onto her chest. ''ahhh!~, y-your words~.... I Think I'm going to faint from love~....'' her arms tighten around him so that wouldn't happen, gently laying him on his back again.'' dearest me! Am I truly that deadly!?.''

she teased.

'' indeed, so much so that I am hallucinating...''he stares up the ceiling again only this time he acknowledges something hanging from above. '' I see...a fate we cannot escape in this situation....'' she looked at him puzzled. '' huh?''.

When she looked up, she covered her mouth now she was turning almost red. Up above them, it was none other than the ultimate trap, for a lover or an attempt to kiss your crush. It was a mistletoe. her attention was brought back to reality, when his hand caressed her cheeks, moving away her hand covering her mouth. index finger, moving to trace her midnight colored lips. Slipping his fingertip to slightly enter her mouth. " W-when was that ever placed?!." Michael only smirked in his tired state. with his heart fluttering from the sight of niiris flustered shock, his breathe began to escape from his mouth, sounding ill and queezy from earlier. " When you left me to die of loneliness this morning~" he morbidly teases her. She realized her error, by leaving this beautiful angel alone to beg for attention he planned this moment all along!. " Michael! Y-you!....you..." He leans sensually close to her face, nose touching in an Eskimo kiss. " Im?..." The voluptuous in his voice even made her feel feverish to the bone. " Y-you!...". She laughs in her sweet villainous laughter, usually heard once a demons about to meet there demise. She was impressed by his devousness, as innocent as this was. " You bellflower of darkness...youve bewitched me of your sensual spell~". She gave a tempting look, she was enjoying this alot. That look...oh how it rised an intense smile on his face. the same cute psychotic smile, that he did when he attempted to bring lucifer back to heaven.

" ahhh dolly!~, if you keep tempting me this way...i dont think i can contain myself~." She moves her nose around his, tickling him in the process letting a small chuckle. " Oh that tickles!". He returns the gesture back, this time his face softens up with a more adoring face of innocence. " Hahaha! Snapped you outta your lustful thoughts yeah? " " Perhaps it was the best considering my condition haha..." Disappointed but alas perhaps another time in better condition. " but i dont mind contracting your sickness~". She taps her lips, inviting him for his long awaited kiss. Michael, leaned in forward. Closing his eyes, leaving a shaky breathy air, before his lips touched hers. For Michael, kissing her was like a moment of peace and serenity. The one moment to lavish in a few minutes of happiness with no worries. No heavenly dutys, no more war, no more bickering back and forth with his brothers in heaven. Thats why these lips where so important to him...but most importantly **she** was most treaserous of all... Because he never has to worry about those things around her. well, except the part where they can get caught. but at times, he feels he dosent have to worry about it thanks with his extra support of the exorcists. as irritated as he gets with them they where truly a fresh of breathe air for his paranoia to ease from time to time. And for niiri, his lips where as if a potion of her delusions, coming to fruition. She feels wings coming out of her back, forming in the most divinty way possible. The longer they went on, the more her imagination ran wild. Even moaning sharply into his lips, pretending that she was experiencing pain from her wing growth. When she opened her eyes, a ray of light hit them. Was this her halo? Could this perhaps be a an effect of both of there halos beam colliding in an etheral way? But even more so she could suddenly feel she was floating in the air.

When she looked down, her delusions finally wore off and she was hit back to reality. It seemed they where both caught of gaurd with there heat of the passion moment, that Michael didnt realize he grew out his wings and flew closer up to the mistletoe. " Woah! How long have weve been up here?!.". " It seems we went overboard, or so i did haha.". He hovered back down the bed, while still holding niiri. " Shouldn't thiago be back already?". " Your right he sh-". When Michael and niiri turned they were met with his presence and Merewyn. There face said it all, they watched the whole thing in silence, now the two feeling awkward they hadnt said anything. " Erm ahem! Ive brought his Divinity his medicine! Hehehe..." Nervous face. " Thiago..." Merewyn looked at thiago to just come clean, they couldn't hide it from them. A loud sigh rang through the room, Michael pinching his nostrils. " Just come in here, leave the medication and GO!.". Niiri chuckled, patting his head to ease him down. " Hahaha! Waddya say you two come here and participate in the mistletoe of love, between the you two!". Thiago actually pondered at the question. " You know actu-.'" he was abruptly stopped when merewyn snatched the medicine from his hands and left them across the desk. " No." " Hehehe hes gonna play a sappy heartbreak song soon i can tell~." Said niiri. Thiago sighed. " Even after partaking with you in Michaels surprise kiss task you still give me the cold shou-." "WOAH WOAH HOLD ON....YOU ALL HELPED IN THIS?!." the room went silent especially Michael now that his little kiss trap was unveiling. "explain or else like i said kiss your guitar goodbye." That was enough to get him talking. " AYYY! OK OK!...*sigh* yes he asked us for help, i was the one that suggested he should place the mistletoe up in the cieling of the bed ...." He looked at Merewyn with his guilt face.

"....and i was the one that turned him sick, by using my gifted abilities. after all my winter wonderland abilities, does have the effect to do that...". Niiri slowly turned her head back to Michael with the look of disbelief. " So let me get this straight...you got so intensly needy of my attention for this morning that you went outta your way to purposely get sick in order for me to tend to you. Then to use the mistletoe in order to trap me deeper of your affection?!." Michael just nods, there was a sense of proudness within himself. " Holy shit i love you..." She glomped him to bed, giving him pecks of kisses all over his face, Michael laughed at its ticklish sensation. " Hahaha! Arent i something niiri?". Again with the praises. " The best of the best! No one can compare to your attention seeking syndrome!." While the two taboo love birds contenue bieng themselves the two exorcists decided to leave them be. "By the way...how long will his cold go away?." Merewyn ponders. " Hes an angel, it wont be long, id give it atleast tomarrow, althou after hearing what i just heard consider that longer if he wants more of the dolls nursing tendencies..." Thiago chuckles. "Ahh you might actually be right about that snowflakes..."

End

[prismatica-the-strange]

I'll Forgive Your Sins | So C'mon, Show Me Home and I Will Go

Warnings: 18+, smut, p in v

Word Count: 1k

You Taste Like Wine by The Collection | Picrew Link

"Aleksandar," Krynn murmurs when the mattress shifts beneath him, "Sasha... come back to bed."

Her fingertips graze his back as she reaches out for him, "'Sander please."

He chuckles at the way she grabs for him, pulling herself up by gripping his shoulders and using him for support.

"'S too early, love," She pouts against the side of his face, her arms wrapped around his neck, "I'm not ready to give you up."

"My love," He sighs, holdling her wrists, "I have a meeting with the king."

"I don't care."

"Alright," he adjusts when she holds tighter, and nuzzles her face closer. He loosens her grip and turns to face her, pulling her into his arms, "What will it take for you to release me, Snowdrop?"

She whines and presses her lips to his jaw, kissing his scruff lazily.

"Kiss me," She murmurs, "Sate me with your lips. And then, and only then, can you go about your day, dear husband."

He grins at her sleepy theatrics. He's admittedly amused by them, and he hadn't wanted to leave the comforting embrace of her arms.

"If that is the price I must pay, then so be it."

He cups her jaw with one hand and kisses her softly for a moment before pressing harder against her, biting lightly at her bottom lip.

"Aleksander," She whimpers, her wandering hands lighting his skin ablaze.

"I'm right here."

He nips at her jaw, still in awe he'd found her, that he gets to spend the rest of forever with her.

Her nails dig into the back of his neck and shoulder as she arches her chest into him.

She moves her head to nudge his noise with hers and kiss him.

"Sweet one," He sighs blissfully between embraces, "Darling... my dear, beautiful wife."

They spend the next fifteen minutes with their limbs twisted together, sleepily kissing each other. And even then she whines when he goes to move.

"I'm sure the king will understand," She slurs against his lips, "We're married now, so you're mine before anyone else's. And I would gladly inform his majesty of that fact."

"That would be a sight," He grins.

"Yes. I'm sorry Moi Tsar, but the Darkling is my love toy first, your intimidating general second," She dramatizes, kissing the apples of his cheeks.

"Love toy?" He asks.

She hums, pulling him closer.

"As much as I would love to see that," He murmurs against her temple, "I have to go, darling girl."

She pouts up at him and holds his face.

"Please don't look so devastated, love."

"Can't help it," Her thumb strokes his stubble, "Some entitled monarch is trying to steal my Shadow Summoner."

He chuckles as he leans in to kiss her again, "I won't be long."

She groans and lets him pull away.

She watches him get dressed, falling back against the pillows.

He looks over to say something and the words catch in his throat when she pulls off her nightdress, "What are you doing?"

"You don't expect me to be waiting with clothes on, do you?" She teases, "What kind of motivation is that?"

"... Motivation?" He asks, shoulders squaring as he stalks back over to the bed, his eyes raking over her body like a predator.

She smirks, rising to her knees to wrap her arms around his neck, and presses her chest to his, "To hurry back."

"My little temptress," He growls against her lips, his hands gripping her thighs, "The things I am going to do to you."

"Be quick," She sighs, melting into his touch as he gropes the fat of her thighs and ass, "Or else I might be done by the time you get back."

Her eyes go wide when he suddenly takes her face in his hands and kisses her hard pushing her back on the bed and letting his weight pin her against the silk sheets.

"Virre'tcha?"

He pulls back to tear off his kefta and start undoing his belt, "What kind of husband would I be to leave my beloved to satiate her own lust?"

His hard cock springs free when he pushes down his pants and he pulls her close, her legs on either side of his hips.

"Is this what you wanted, my love?" He asks, his fingers rubbing slow circles on her clit, "Wanted the pleasure of my hands on your body? The pleasure of being split open on my cock?"

"Fuck," She groans, "Please, Aleksander. Don't tease."

He chuckles when she grabs at him, slowly pushing inside her as she tugs him down into her arms.

"Aleksander," She whimpers at the feel of him filling her.

"My love," He leans down, sloppily kissing her throat as he fucks her, "My light... my everything."

"Fuck, don't stop," She moans, threading her fingers in his hair, her hips rolling to meet his, "Rosh! Slower... slower... Don't rush."

The quick snap of his hips slows to long, languid thrusts that make her toe curl.

He hooks his arms around her waist and lifts her just enough to settle her in the middle of their large bed.

His head falls against her chest, eyes squeezing shut, "Fryce..."

He angles his hips to drag himself against her g-spot with every thrust, making her choke out a cry.

Her orgasm spreads through her like a slow wave, a heady warmth washing over her, burning in every limb.

"Sasha," She gasps, her eyes rolling back and falling shut.

Her name rumbles in his chest as he lets go deep inside her, "Snowdrop... my love..."

He collapses on top of her, breathing heavily.

"Darling," Krynn murmurs. He slumps against her, humming happily when her fingertips toy with his hair.

Moments pass and she addresses him again, this time get a more prominent sound of recognition.

"My love... the king is waiting."

He lets out something of a cross between a laugh and a groan at the reminder, his arms tightening around her.

"You're infuriating," He teases, "The king can wait. My wife's pleasure come first."

[impossiblescissorspeachpaper]

in the dark of the longest night

elriel month prompt three: happy solstice

A special thank you to @duskcowboy for this collaboration! She approached me with her absolutely stunning idea for art and asked me if I'd be interested in telling the story behind her commission, promptly knocking me out of my writing slump. It was a pleasure working on this with you & PLEASE check out the stunning artwork that goes along with this fic here.

It was well past midnight as Elain knelt on the cool stone tiles of the small patio just outside her bedroom, the square paved alcove smattered with a collection of decorative pots that she attentively cared for. Her fingers had grown frigid and cold from the frost, but she continued her work, brushing the freshly fallen snow from the leaves of her beloved plants.

Elain had always been able to adapt to most conditions and environments with ease. Her ability to read a room and conduct herself with a graceful poise not many possessed was a strength of its own. She was able to flourish both in the spotlight and on the sidelines and was content to do both. However, every year since her arrival to Velaris, she found herself quietly savouring the dark tranquillity that was so unique to the night of Winter Solstice.

As a human, she’d always missed the flowers whenever the winters would roll around, the lands left grey and covered in sleet for months below the wall. But here, in Prythian, she’d been introduced to varieties of flowers that would thrive and bloom even in the dead of winter. Not many, and not in any massive palette of colour, but the few she was able to collect were still better than the arid dirt flowerbeds that she’d been forced to tolerate in her former life.

Snowdrops, Alpine Roses, Winter Aconites, Glory of the Snow; she had gathered their various bulbs and planted them all. Some were currently mere green seedlings, the frosts of Solstice a tad too harsh for their needs. Others had already sprouted, boasting their starry blue, pink and white petals, the bright blooms peeking through the ice. 

Elain had enjoyed tending to her small garden in the winter, taking to simply wrapping herself in her fur-lined blue cape and heading out to her courtyard to check on the plants’ progress. The garden exuded a different type of silence and serenity in the winter. It wasn’t riotous and alive like it was in the summer, nor in the metamorphosis of its rebirth like the spring, but rather a steady and muted calm which helped her slow her racing mind.

So, when sleep would elude her like it often did these days, she’d find herself out on her small patio in the moonlight, hands caked with frosty earth to pass the darkest lonely hours. 

Still dressed in the fine amethyst gown she’d worn for the Solstice party, Elain was crouched beside a large pot of her favourite winter blooms, her Black Tulips. She smiled at the striking obsidian flowers, the deep, opulent colour of the petals so at odds with the freshly fallen white snow that delicately clung to its folds. The merchant in the Palace who had sold her the bulbs had told her they were also known colloquially in Velaris as Queen of the Night. The thought made her smile.

As she continued her work in the tranquillity of the quiet night, the crunch of snow under a heavy boot made her freeze momentarily, before a soft smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She knew he was more than adept at masking his presence, ensuring he could gather that all important sensitive information without the possibility of being found. No, he could move through this world without producing a single sound. That misstep was solely for her benefit, an indication for her ears alone, to enlighten her to his presence in the dead of the longest night.

From her position on the patio, she glanced towards the vast gardens of the river house beyond her stone balustrade and spotted the handsome Shadowsinger striding toward her private courtyard. He was still clad in his Solstice finery too, the tailored black jacket hugging his warrior’s physique splendidly, the lapels falling open to reveal a fine black shirt beneath that did little to conceal the swells of his muscled chest. He wore an easy smile, his siphons gleaming atop his scarred hands in the night as his shadows trailed behind him like wisps of dark mist.

Arriving at the edge of her small terrace, he halted. His wings remained tucked in tight behind his back but the image he created, as if he had been born from the night—materialised from the very corners of darkness— was not lost on Elain as she stared up at him from her crouched position. 

“Everyone turned in rather early this year,” he offered as an explanation for his appearance.

It had indeed been a shorter affair than years past. They had still made it past midnight as they usually would, but she too had noticed Cassian and Nesta slink off shortly after Feyre’s birthday cake had been served. Feyre and Rhys had followed not far behind as Nyx had finally fallen asleep in a sugar induced coma on his father’s shoulder, his plump lips open and frosting smeared across his rosy cheeks. Mor had been eager to open another bottle of wine and lingered for a while longer, but soon everyone else had dispersed to their various accommodations.

Feyre and Nesta had never been ones to relish in a party, and Feyre still shied away from celebrating her birthday. She also supposed those who were happily mated couldn’t wait to be alone once more. 

A small pang of jealousy needled its way into her heart to nestle beside the happiness she felt for both her sisters at the thought. It wasn’t their fault, but she did envy them for being able to openly be with the one they truly loved… That in their cases, the Cauldron, or the Mother— or whatever deity that deemed itself important enough to pull the strings of fate— had indeed chosen correctly.

Standing from her crouch she dusted her hands off on her cape and tucked her cold hands inside its warm pockets.

“I suppose they were just eager to be alone once more,” she offered slyly, hinting at some of the couples’ very public displays of affection. 

It wasn’t unusual for Feyre and Nesta to be affectionate towards their mates, but for some reason, she found it particularly hard to witness around the Solstice holiday. Elain pushed thoughts of longing aside. She was getting good at doing so.

Azriel huffed a laugh in response. “Mated couples can be quite insufferable.”

Indeed. But she just smiled knowingly in response, the secret glances they had traded and eyerolls they had stifled throughout the Solstice festivities earlier in the evening sparking a warm glow in her chest. It was nice to know he understood her.

Azriel came another step closer, and it was then that she noticed he had been carrying something in his hands, her gaze catching on what he held between his fingers.

“In all the haste, I didn’t get the chance to show you these.”

He held out his hand, offering Elain what she could only describe as a bunch of thin, rolled up paper straws, about eight inches long.

She glanced from the paper sticks in his hands and back to his face, trying to mask the utter confusion she felt at his perplexing offering, not wanting to offend him or seem ungrateful for the strange gift.

Slowly reaching out her hand to take one, she asked tentatively, “Sorry, but— what are they?”

Azriel smiled, a dimple appearing in his smooth cheek as his head tilted to the side, his dark hair falling into hazel eyes. Beautiful. He was so beautiful. Elain never tired of it.

“They’re called fire flowers. They’re an old tradition from the Winter Court and customary at times of celebration. I thought you’d appreciate them.”

Elain’s confusion only grew. Fire flowers? She had never heard of such a thing.

“Do I…plant them?”

Azriel chuckled this time, his hazel eyes gleaming in the surrounding darkness.

“Let me show you,” he responded simply. 

Separating one of the paper straws from the bundle and handing Elain the rest, he removed a flint from his pocket, lighting the end of the stick and then holding it out before him.

At first nothing happened, or so she thought, until she noticed a small round red bud at the tip Azriel had lit. The small droplet glowed in the darkness where Azriel held the fire flower between them. Before she had much time to ponder on it however, a spark shot out from the lit tip like a small slash of lightening in the night sky, startling Elain and causing her to jump a surprised step back. The spark was followed by another and another and another; streaks of light flying in all directions with the radiant bud glowing at its centre.

Elain’s mouth popped open into a delicate O at the glittering display. The sparks looked like petals.

The fire petals danced and fizzed as the stick held between Azriel’s fingers withered until they finally slowed down in momentum and waned, the dark night enveloping them once more in its embrace.

Elain stared at the place where the fire flower had glowed, so bright and majestic for all of a few brief moments before it had been swallowed into the veil of darkness once more. It had been there one second, and the next…gone.

An unexpected, nostalgic feeling of melancholy threatened to engulf her. How could something so bright, so joyful, only be granted such a fleeting moment in time to shine?

The thoughts came crashing down upon her suddenly, but she allowed them to take their course. They seemed poignant in this moment. 

It elicited thoughts of her human life, so brief and fleeting. And although her new life in this fae body was something she had well-adjusted to since, she still found herself wondering sometimes, what if?

Overcome with emotion, her bright eyes lined with unshed tears, she looked up at Azriel. “May I try one?”

He smiled, his handsome face a display of heart-shattering beauty. “Do you really like them?” he asked somewhat trepidatiously. 

She’d never known the spymaster to be unsure of himself. She smiled again, broadly this time. She needed him to know how meaningful his gift was, regardless of the size of its gesture. He had clearly thought she would enjoy them, and he was right.

“I love them. Azriel, thank you.”

His shoulders sagged slightly, as if he had been holding his breath for her reaction, but he didn’t say another word as he edged closer to her, striking the flint once more, the small sparks enough to light the end of the fire flower.

This time Elain watched with wide eyes as the glowing bud slowly formed, growing on the end of her straw before the sparkling petals started dancing and crackling quietly in the night, before its bright light once again waned and ultimately winked out. 

Life, death, rebirth.

Elain shivered at the thought and Azriel, mistaking her reaction as a result of the cold air, sidled up to her and wrapped a mighty wing around. His proximity warmed her almost immediately as he sheltered her from the icy wind. She tilted her head up and gave him a soft smile of thanks, her thick unbound curls cascading down her back with the movement. Hazel eyes met her own as a flash of heat passed between them, but he just offered her his own dimple-popping smile in return.

Azriel lit sparkler after sparkler for them as they spent the remainder of the long night outside. Snow had begun to softly fall around them, but they barely noticed it quietly blanketing the world around them. Elain and Azriel simply relished in each other’s presence amongst the flowers and nightfall, conversation flowing freely once more between the Shadowsinger and the Seer.

*******

EM tag list:

@waternymphia

@shedoessoshedoes

@nightcourtseer

@tealeaves-and-rosepetals

@jasmineandshadows

@zdenkah

@dottielovegood

@casuallivi

@azrielslight

@ultadverb

@tswaney17

@batboyazriel

@duskwhisperer

@thoughtsaboutshows

@mardereads19

@a-frog-with-a-laptop

@123moiaussi

@reverie-tales

@britishwings

@glasscupsss

@gracie-rosee

@massiveattackangel

@thesistersarcheron

@dreamsandwings

@shadowflorecita

@elainsweetcobalt

@demarogue

@lesolehabitantdelalune

@elrielbaby

@happy-go-lucky-fangirl

@nivem565

@broodybatboy

@edanmaia

@booksnightowl

@saz-griffin

@swankii-art-teacher

@elriel-month

[ask-emile-sdv]

Another Autumn (Emile x G/N Farmer Drabble)

Word Count; 1112

Genre; fluff

A/N; artem here! I thought it would be a good way to dispense lore so I made this little drabble <3

Autumn.

A beloved month for many. The smell of cinnamon, the sight of crimson, and the sound of laughter. The crisp air felt sharp in Emile’s lungs, as he swept a bead of sweat from his furrowed brow. He shivered slightly from the cold, despite the warm sunlight beaming down on him.

He wasn’t one for autumn, actually. The flowers were nice, sure, but the season itself was just another bitter reminder of being alone. Every time someone found out about his distaste of it, they would always gasp and go “Why? I mean, it’s autumn! Don’t you like the Spirit’s Eve festival? Dressing up with friends?”

As he dug his hoe into the fertile earth below, he let out a belligerent chuckle. Dressing up with friends? Spirit’s Eve? What a joke. The only memories of that damned holiday was the chiding remarks from his parents to his cousins and siblings, about taking him with them as he would stand in his ill-fitting hand-me-down superhero costume. A tacky thing it was, he wanted to be a vampire but his parents insisted on wearing the old costume.

The air would be thick with an awkward feeling as he trailed behind them, always the last to get candy, always the first one to get lost in the maze, always the one not knowing where to look in photos.

Always the one forgotten.

Then the new school year would continue, walking with his head cast down at the cracks in the sidewalks, uncomfortably walking in his new school shoes which were always a little too big. “You’ll grow into it,” his mother always told him. He would fiddle with the straps of his backpack as he waited for roll call, sitting in the cold plastic chair full of static in the cold autumn air.

“Hoa- Wa…” The teacher would squint and adjust their outdated glasses “Hon…”

“Hoàng.” He would say, quietly. “I go by Emile.”

He would feel everyone’s eyes on him, gazing into the top of his head, before completely overlooking him for the rest of the school year. That’s how it went every year, every autumn.

He was knocked out of his reminiscing as he heard someone open the gate, the squeaking of the hinges cutting through the garden. Looking up, his eyes met the farmer’s. Sighing, he squinted at them in feigned annoyance.

“I’m busy, what do you want? Look, if you’re asking where my trashcan is-”

“Emile! Hey! You mind taking this off my hands?” The farmer shoved a bag of quality fertilizer into his gloved hands.

He paused, confused. “... Fertilizer?”

They flashed him a grin, oh yoba, that grin. He felt his heart flutter, his face like a peony. They scratched the back of their head sheepishly.

“Yeah, accidentally bought too much off of Pierre, aha. So I thought hey! Why not hand this off to Emile!”

He felt his pulse through his fingertips as he held the bag, racing. “... You thought of me?”

They let out a light hearted chuckle, “Well, yeah! Of course, why wouldn’t I? After all, we’re both planting our new crops… Do flowers count as crops?”

“Of course they are, they’re floriculture.” He scoffed, “You should know this, farmer.”

“Right, right…” The farmer glanced at the turned dirt below, “What are you planting?”

Emile’s tea colored eyes lit up, as they always did when flowers became the topic. “Fairy roses, sunflowers, mums- the usual fall flowers. I’m moving them from the greenhouse.” He looked at the sack of bulbs by his feet, “Also preparing for winter flowers, such as snowdrops.”

“There’s winter flowers?” The farmer asked, kneeling down to take a look in the bag.

“Of course! There’s poinsettias, camellias, winter pansies, etc..” He excitedly listed off, “Oh! There’s also Christmas roses- those are nice. They have this lovely white color, but as the blooms age they can darken into pink or even green! You can deadhead those, so they can grow more white blossoms. They mean ‘Relieve my anxiety’ along with innocence and hope, so they make a great present for the Feast of the Winter Star and-” He quickly shut himself up. Shit… I said too much, Yoba, I must sound so annoying…

“Why’d you stop?” The farmer questioned. He looked up, and to his surprise they were staring intently at him, leaning closer for more. So close, in fact he could count every lash that surrounded their mesmerizing irises. He swallowed nervously.

“W… What do you mean ‘Why’d you stop’?”

“You kinda just- cut yourself off there.”

“Well,” He cleared his throat, “I’m sure someone like yourself wouldn’t be interested in this, after all you specialize in produce so…”

“But it’s interesting.”

His eyes widened, “You… You think what I’m saying is interesting?”

“Yeah, why do you sound surprised? It’s cool!”

He felt a strange feeling, one he’d never felt before. He felt… Heard. Seen. The farmer was looking at him so expectantly, with so much care. Care for the impromptu lesson, no, care for him.

The wind blew around them, carrying along leaves of scarlet and orange. But despite the cold breeze, he felt warm- almost too warm. “Well… I-I suppose if you came all this way, I might as well grace you with my knowledge!” His cheeks heated up, painting them rosy and bashful, “D-don’t think I’m doing this for you though. I just… I've just been working hard all day and I need a break. that’s all!”

The farmer tapped their chin, “A break, huh?” They hummed in thought, “Hey, why not tell me more about this over at the saloon then?”

“Oh, at the Stardrop?”

“Yeah, over some wine?”

“Well.... That sounds nice…. B-but you’re paying!”

The farmer laughs, putting their hands up in mock defense. “Yeah, yeah. I suppose I have to pay tuition for your classes somehow, right?”

Emile huffs, turning to the side. “That’s right, farmer-” He’s cut off as they take his hand and lead him out the garden, “Woah! Hey!-”

They looked at him with bright eyes as they dragged him to the saloon, “Cmon, let’s go!”

Emile cracked a small smile, shaking his head as he let them lead him to the townsquare. The crunching of the garnet leaves under their feet could be heard, the smell of cinnamon emanating from the saloon as Gus prepares his fall menu, and the sound of the farmer’s laughter echoing in his ears and ribcage. A sound so lovely to him, that he could just listen to it on repeat over and over again as if it was a love song.

Maybe he’ll give autumn a chance this round… Because this time he isn’t alone.

[federthenotsogreat]

I'm currently working on a little story for my lessor known, yet still beloved OCs!

Their names are Heather, Snowdrop, Tulip (may change), Aster and Domino and all of them are very silly!