#int;

aesthetic builder - I used this to experiment because I've been having trouble writing, but you can use it the same way the original poster did. Anything you want.

A day off. He wasn’t sure when the last day off he had really was. Now of course it didn’t really mean a day off of work considering work never seemed to stop for him. But it did mean that he could work from home and that he could take the longest lunches without anyone telling him to get back to work. Sure, he had lived in the city his entire life, but there were still so many restaurants he hadn’t been. Long before he was a cop, his true passion had always been food, seeking comfort in dishes of any shape or form as long as it had good flavor. The one he had picked out today had been on his list for awhile, he had only ever heard good things about it and he could tell just from the aroma in the air outside of the place that it was going to live up to the hype. Though quite honestly, as long as it wasn’t Chinese take-out for the fifth time in a row that week. 

Taika had insisted on meeting on her side of the city. Something about knowing her surroundings and having her resources at hand for anything that could possibly go wrong comforted her. But there was nothing that she should’ve been afraid of considering the Irish were the only other mafia in town that had earned her respect. In fact, she had been quite fond of Alexander Barrett, or the Brooklyn Prince as many had referred to him as. Perhaps it was his ruthlessness or even his tenacity. The thing she liked about him the most was the fact that he was not born into the life as she was. And while growing up she had to prove herself everyday for a position that was already hers, he fought his way up and had made it to the top. There was something very admirable about that, and she could see the respect she showed him reflected in everyone apart of his mob. 

She wasn’t entirely sure what the meeting was about, but she assumed that it must’ve been something of somewhat importance considering he asked to meet her on such short notice. Or he might’ve just extended an invitation to her for a good time based on the location of the meeting. The Cathouse was a famously known gentlemen’s club, an invitation to it was highly regarded and only given to those who had proved their loyalty to the Irish mafia, which of course was something she had done. If Alexander would amuse her by scratching her back and helping her lay more claim throughout lower Manhattan, then she would return the favor by having her triad help in any way that they could. Taika couldn’t have been more thankful that Alexander had agreed to form an alliance with her. She knew that the Triad was new blood in town, but any bit of help that she could get from one of the original mafia’s in the city would greatly help their cause. 

They greeted her at the front doors and brought her around back to the more private and secluded area of the club. Taika took it all in, surprised at how pristine the establishment was in comparison to the other Irish places she had been. The mob members walked her into a private room where Alexander had been sitting.

There was not much to do as an heir to an estate. Most days he found himself simply wandering around the wood surrounding it wondering what he could have been doing with his life if he wasn’t the oldest brother. It had dawned on his that he never really had any of the freedoms that his siblings had. That if Santi was born first, he could have been doing something with his life. Anything but making sure he was alive so that the Navarette lineage continued and being a surrogate parent for all of his siblings. He loved them dearly, he had. If only they knew the sorts of continual sacrifices he had made for them throughout their lives. 

Cold. How had he gotten so cold? That was the only sensation that was running through his veins. Enjolras was experiencing a coolness he had never truly felt before. Being a fae with an affinity for fire meant there was not an ounce of cold in his body. It felt unfamiliar to him, he felt completely unfamiliar as he had woken up shivering in skin that didn’t feel like it belonged to him. Enjolras was a stranger to the frigidness he was experiencing now. Sure the Autumn Court was known for having a few brisk days here and there, but he had always had the fire and the heat right at the palm of his finger tips. And now, he snapped his fingers looking for any semblance of a spark, yet there was nothing. No small flickers of flames or flashes from striking the tips of his fingers like matches. Could he have possibly come down with some sort of illness? Something that diminished the fire within him and the affinity that came along with it. He flexed his muscles slightly as if his wings were going to wrap around him like a blanket draped over his shoulders, yet they weren’t there. He let out a slight whimper of frustration before shaking his head. This isn’t happening. He thought to himself as he shook his head. He wanted to shake it, that feeling of dread that he was left with nothing. But he was desperate to feel something, to feel the warmth crackle against his skin once more.

Enjolras perked up the moment he thought of something, a sure fire way to get him warm. He remembered the hot springs hidden in a grove in the Wilde Wood, a place secluded enough that only Fae knew about it. He had plenty of fond memories there, ones that were almost as steamy as the springs themselves. But that wasn’t the reason he thought of it. It was the only place he could think of that was out of sight and out of mind from all of the chaos that had already ensued in the Spring Court that morning. He could hear the wailing cries from neighbors as they woke to discover that their wings were no longer upon their back. Frankly, he was sick of hearing all of the faeries weeping over the loss of their wings. There was only one thing that could truly explain what had made them this way and it was probably thanks to some faeries’ magic that got them all here in the first place. He grumbled and cursed to himself pulling over a cloak from a prince he had gotten from one of his plunders with the Renegade. Enji never had a use for it, but now seemed as good as a time as any. He wrapped himself up tightly before stumbling out of his home. It was only then that he had realized he hadn’t eaten all day, feeling the lightness in his head from missing out on some of the great pleasures of food. It was probably because he was so damn focused on how fucking cold he was.