#enrozhi

[misericordiis]

❛ i don't have time for distractions right now. ❜ / qian &. sylus

Qian insists upon this through teeth catching the bell of Sylus's ear, with elegant fingers wrought in intricate tangle within his silver locks, just at his crown. Sylus laughs, and feels the heat of Qian's resistance rise in his cheeks, pressed against his own. It doesn't give the purpose of his hand even a hint of pause as it deftly loosens the silk knot at Qian's throat and begins to undo the row of mother of pearl buttons on his dress shirt. His collar opens just enough for Sylus to nip hard just below his clavicle—an offense he ameliorates with a kiss.

"Of course, Qian-zi," Sylus agrees—indulgently, intimately—as the point of his nose drags up the length of Qian's throat. The warmth of his breath follows after, a soft susurration that ghosts along his heated skin as a prelude to the way Sylus mouths there, after. "Wouldn't dream of it."

And when his knees slip between Qian's thighs to part them, Sylus pulls back just enough to watch his expression with a shit-eating grin. "But you tell me if I'm distracting you." His finger hooks into the leather of his belt, tugging at it hard enough that Qian's hips follow it's command. "Better yet, tell me how." —@enrozhi

[misericordiis]

Deneb — receiver wraps their coat around sender’s shoulders, fingers lingering longer than necessary. / liya &. lilit

✧       ›       𝐫𝐩  𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐬  .   .   .   (   a  study  of  stars   ) @enrozhi — liya !

Lilit notices the imperceptible dim of the lights that always bring around this time of night, but only because the growing tenebrous obfuscation of her sight—focused upon the splendid creature in her company—draws a petulant pout of Lilit's pretty mouth. The colubrine curl of smoke from a dying cigarette catches the last light of a tea candle nearing it's end, and it's clear that the night's similarly finished. Even the music's gone adagissimo. Almost funerary, really, for all Lilit mourns having to end her time in Liya's company.

And when the attendant arrives with Liya's coat in hand, a small couch heralding his arrival, Lilit can't help but let the mask slip just enough to convey her displeasure with a slight wrinkle between her brows, a purse of red, lacquered lips. She rises to retrieve the coat: some luxuriously thick fur that only seems appropriate to be draped upon such elegant shoulders. Attending Liya seated is really the only way the two of them might find a semblance of equal standing, and Lilit relishes the small advantage she has as she pulls the fur around her shoulders and smooths it in place with hands that trail boldly down the collar, drifting with a measured impunity upon the clandestine warmth of the singer's skin.

Her fingers curl within the long fur, grasping at the edges of that collar before she pulls her in. Slowly, tentatively. Lilit bends, arms winding about Liya's shoulders, ensconcing her obscure object of affection in an effluvium of expensive perfume and skin-heated silk and the utter adoration of an absolutely sprung Lilit. "Is it me, or has this evening been woefully short?" she asks, her voice sweet and silk all at once. Her finger curl around her collar, pulling her in with a palpable and pronounced wanting.

Lips hover over hers, drawn to Liya's like a moth to a candle flame. Lilit breathes in the scent of heady scent of her perfume and feels nearly inebriated with the hunger inspired by the mere thought of what those lips must taste like. "I think we deserve a little recapitulation, don't you?" she asks, as coyly as she dares. "Surely a night like this deserves an encore."

She presses a kiss to the corner of Liya's mouth, leaving a bright crimson heart upon her skin. Her mark. "Won't you come again?" she entreats, shamefully petulant now. "I don't want to beg, but I do beg quite prettily, if you like."

[holyscorch]

i want your hands here, on my hips. / teo

--- ↪ prompt. ( do you see me. )

their sweet, sweet beastie. the fearsome carcione underboss .... so pliant and docile beneath their hands. ah, wrong ... docile is an unbefitting word when even like this, teodore remains ever so mischievous when it comes to garnering the attention of the doctor. here they are, merely a room away from teodore's own group -- attempting to seduce them in the best way he knew he could. ( stir something deeply primal beneath this body known only of rot and carnage. ) from the way he's already ensnared lucian to hover over him while cornering him against a table, the doctor's body enveloping around him like a shadow that could hide him from the world. oh, they could. they would. the way the collar to his suit was open and exposed ... revealing that beautiful, supple skin; still faintly littered with bite marks they planted on him not too long ago. to know he wore them proudly beneath that tight, expensive suit ... how tempting it was for their hands to rip his clothes to shreds, show off to teodore's own lackeys that they had their proud, merciless underboss mewling beneath them for several nights.

" miss me, my sweet ? " a chuckle leaves from the base of their throat, hands promptly guided by teo's eager hands to bring them up to the curves of his hips ... feeling the weight of their palms, cupping his hips as if their hands were made to hold him. " if i didn't know any better ... you're trying to tempt me into having my way with you. " that look on his face said it all. this is not the first time they've done this either. a thrill, it was. temptation, it remained. they lean down, pressing rough and firm love bites against the canvas of teo's neck as their hands shamelessly gather him by his thighs to press him further back against the top of the table. ( the clatter of whatever ornaments that was atop of it surely warranting a glance or two. ) just on the other side of that room, lucian can hear his group muttering among themselves. where their dear underboos ran off to with that ' doctor ' of his ....

" they're wondering where you are. " they breathe out after planting a kiss to the underside of his jaw, and a hand was palming harshly against one of his thighs. " just on the other side of this wall ... oblivious to the fact you have your legs spread for me right now. " they chuckle, almost mocking ... lucian's golden hues are almost glowing with something beastly, pulling back enough to look down at the beautiful work of art beneath them. " if you keep tempting me like this ... i won't stop. not even if they walk in on us. "

[holyscorch]

i dream when i’m awake. / andrey

--- ↪ prompt. ( do you see me. )

" but this is an unhealthy habit you are developing, andrey. " his voice -- usually akin to frost and stone -- held a touch of concern. apparent in the way he furrows his brows, and a gloved hand lifts up to gently rest his palm against andrey's cheek. his thumb traces against smooth skin, lips curling into a faint frown. " there are bags developing under your eyes ... your body will slowly lose its strength if you continuously sleep. please ... " all of this, just to constantly dream -- dream of open fields around the manor, fall into the confines of the dreamscape, and to see the dream weaver without the concern that time with him in that space is limited. ( but even he is not so naive to believe that dreams are eternal ... ) the dreamscape is forever present, but dreamers have always been just visitors, nothing more. that is how it should've been.

yet look at him. was it wrong of ozul to feel ... happy ? touched by the fact andrey has been putting consistent effort into sleeping more, just so he can see him more often ? lessen the burden on ozul's body from using up so much energy to make himself present in the waking world, and spend more time together ? ( of course ... of course, how could he not be happy ? to see how far andrey would go .... ) alas. andrey was still only human. his body has its own limitations. to strictly confine his most basic functions to constantly sleep -- ozul couldn't bear the idea of andrey getting himself hurt.

" andrey. " ozul's hands reach out to cup his face together, silver - blues softening with his brows furrowed. to dream even when awake ... something inside this body's unbeating chest stirs. it stirs with something utterly forbidden and he cannot have. but how desperately his fondness for his dreamers -- especially the one right in front of him -- persists, long dooming him from the start. " i want you to take better care of yourself. if not ... what do you think happens to your mind and body ? a mind that is gone from here ... loses its tether to the dreamscape. loses its tether to me. i don't want that to happen ... not to you, andrey. "

[holyscorch]

your clothes fit me better. / liya

--- ↪ prompt. ( do you see me. )

seeing the last of his clients for the day, ryouta was simply minding his business in his office, finishing the last of his paperwork that needed to be done before he could clock out. but then, he hears the gentle ding of his phone going off a few times ... prompting his attention and bringing the phone to him to see who just messaged him. the message raised a curious brow, and once he opened it -- he nearly choked on the bottle of water he was drinking. there liya was, on his couch with yuri's snout sticking out in the corner of the photo with an undoubtedly eager expression. ( dressed in one of his loose button ups; in only his button up shirt. ) posed almost seductively with an expression littered with nothing but flirtatious mischief. the buttons fairly loose and exposing the smooth, supple skin beneath the crevices of the open fabric, and the picture was angled enough to expose the fact she wasn't wearing any pants. she ransacked through his closet again ... at this point, a guaranteed habit of her's any time she stopped by ( or broke in ) to his home.

with a hand dragging over his now flushed face, he groans into his palm. this damn romanova was going to be the death of him. sending these pictures while he's stuck at work ... agh, fuck it. giving in, he begins to pack up for the day, tossing the keys to his motorcycle up and shoving them into his pockets as he rushes through the doors. ( prompting the curious glances of his co - workers as they watch their boss leave in a rush. ) he gets on his motorcycle and drives straight home -- speed limit be damned. by the time he makes it back home, he can hear the excitement of yuri's barking coming through the doors. he fumbles with his keys for a brief second until he manages to get the doors open, his mind running wild over the pictures still fresh in his mind.

" romanova. " he calls out her name as the doors swing open, hand reaching up to undo the suffocating grip of his tie from his suit with a frustrated pull. he breathes out a heavy exhale, an odd heat getting to him. ( she wants to play games, he'll join her. ) " you better be prepared. "

[viliria]

papers lower as she finally seems to notice @enrozhi's presence , blinking tired eyes before rubbing them softly , settling papers atop her desk and finally relenting .

how many hours had she been going over tax documents and reports ? not even she knew , but the sight of the sun setting was enough to tell saya it'd been far too long . ❛ alright , i'll call it for tonight . i'm sorry for keeping you waiting . ❜

[viliria]

❛ mm , yeah gimme a minute . ❜ she placidly responds , eyes dancing across the code she types into the laptop , remaining silent as @enrozhi waits .

she holds up one finger , typing quickly with remaining hand , before finally, miki closes the laptop and offers them her full attention . ❛ apologies -- something came up that needed to be addressed asap . i'm all ears , now . ❜

[holyscorch]

this was a disaster. lian wasn't unfamiliar with 'dates' that could go wrong with clients. it was bound to happen. part of the job. but this one was certainly one for the books ( and not in a positive way ). without as much as a 'goodbye' does he escape the hotel room ... this would reflect badly on the company he knew that but to stay one second longer in that room ... with that man. no. he simply couldn't do it ( there was something wrong with that client, something the recruiters missed. lian was never wrong with these kind of things ). while they practically run down the stairs, hand searches for their phone, heart beat thundering in chest: the thought that the client could be running after them sending spikes of anxiety down their spine. lian had a gun and a knife ... if push would come to shove, they'd be prepared but still .... still. it's why when he's finally outside, feet carrying him away that he starts to type ...

[ txt: mr. knight ✨]: taiyou i know it's late [txt: mr. knight ✨]: rly rly late but can you pick me up? [txt: mr. knight ✨]: this whole thing got bad. i want to leave [txt: mr. knight ✨]: i alrdy left but was so stupid and didn't come herewith my own ride

he stops typing then. on the middle of the empty street, far removed from the bustling district he ran away from. he was bothering taiyou with this. qian could pick him up but what if he was with yoru? teeth sink into bottom lip. both of them would come pick him up if asked but he didn't want to be a bother ( yet asking taiyou to come wasn't ? )

[txt: mr. knight ✨]: nvm forget it ✨ [txt: mr. knight ✨]: i'll walk home!!

--- ↪ UNPROMPTED.

it's one of the rare nights that taiyou decides to NOT be a reckless night owl, out and about traversing on an expedition to hunt demons that prowl about ... but because he's such a night owl, he finds it a bit difficult to fall asleep -- staring aimlessly at the ceiling, pondering whether he should go back on his intentions of getting some sleep or try to find ways to deal with this brief sleepless dilemma. just before he could make a choice-- he hears the gentle ding of his phone at his nightstand. hm ? taiyou sits up from bed, raking messy locks back as he looks through the messages. lian. the corner of his lips smile upon seeing his designated name ' royal highness ' on his screen until it falters to a look of confusion when he gets the context of his texts. ( a meeting gone wrong. ) knowing the details of lian's job .... a client of his was making him uncomfortable. the fact he was asking for taiyou first instead of his brother ... he frowns.

taiyou doesn't sit on it any longer than he has to; immediately getting up from bed to throw on some proper clothes on and a leather jacket, something to fight against the cold once he gets on the road. all the while he texts lian back,

[ txt: royal highness 🐈‍⬛ ]: im omw [ txt: royal highness 🐈‍⬛ ]: find someplace to hide ok?? [ txt: royal highness 🐈‍⬛ ]: dont be scared, send me your location by then [ txt: royal highness 🐈‍⬛ ]: i cant leave you out there in the cold ;)

his expression does not at all match the tone of the last message he sent to lian, but his urgency is no less present. with an almost thundering pace, he goes down the stairs-- undoubtedly disrupting his family's rest as he can catch the brief glimpse of crimson's bedroom lights flicker on. he does nothing to stay back and explain himself, but at the very least scribbles a quick note in the kitchen, ' taking the bike. explain later. ' he feels bad needing to borrow yoru's motorcycle without warning, but he'd understand the urgency, especially in regards to one of his closest friends. he steps out of the house, grabbing yoru's motorcycle and starting the engine .... tossing the helmet on before he rides down the quiet street and onto the main road.