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#fic: one single thread of gold
thedarkestgreys · 10 months
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one single thread of gold
🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡
hbo euphoria // rated e // drabble collection
🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡
time, curious time, gave me no compasses, gave me no signs, were there clues i didn't see? and isn't it just so pretty to think, all along there was some invisible string, tying you to me? - invisible string by taylor swift
Chapter Dump Round Three:
best friend
stay
back from the dead (part two)
show me
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zukosdualdao · 4 months
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one single thread of gold tied me to you
zutara month, day 15: scarf, @zutaramonth
summary: when zuko and the rest of the gaang arrive in the south pole for the winter solstice festival, katara notices something strange: zuko's flush with cold, even though he could easily firebend to avoid it.
other notes: title taken from invisible string by taylor swift.
Katara’s used to the frigid air of her home, the flurries and full-blown storms of wind and snow, the ice that can crystallize against one's skin if they're not careful, the grey skies in the deeps of winter, the crunch of her footfalls against the ice and snow.
In a way, she’s missed it. The cold caresses her like an old friend she grew up with and that welcomes her back with open arms.
It’s a little strange but mostly funny to see the way their other friends react to it, though, as they arrive for the winter solstice festival that their tribe is celebrating this year—a way of marking the newly-ended war.
Aang, of course, has been here before—when they first met and many times in recent months, regaling Katara and Sokka with stories of his travels. Toph’s teeth chatter, yet she refuses to wear more than the basic parka she’s offered, though she’ll gladly accept a hot cup of tea—and has tried to accept mulled wine before Katara pulled it away from her—and hold it close to her chest. Suki doesn’t complain, though that may have more to do with how she can simply huddle closer to Sokka whenever she starts shivering.
Most of them have been by already once or twice since the end of the war. Zuko, though, committed as he is to his new role of Fire Lord, has only been here once before—and things between were decidedly different then.
As they make their way to walk down the iced-over river to release glowing lanterns, Katara glances to her side—Zuko has been gravitating near to her ever since he arrived, which makes her smile—and sees that his nose is darkly flushed and his arms are crossed over his chest and tucked into his sides as he tries not to so obviously shiver, which makes her frown.
Like Aang, she knows he could ward off the cold—though she thinks it may take more intention with firebending, the other elements are fascinating but sometimes still mysterious to her—or use his breath of fire to warm himself up, so why isn’t he?
Looking ahead, she sees their other friends, Toph with an arm slung around Aang’s shoulders and making some loud, obnoxious joke, Sokka and Suki snickering, and beyond them, her father, and Gran Gran, Bato, and the children of the tribe.
Zuko’s trying not to firebend in front of them. It’s… sweet, actually, and probably smart for his first visit here—but she doesn’t want him to suffer for no reason.
Katara pauses and pulls him aside as the group marches on. Sokka turns back briefly to check on her, and then to make aggravating kissy faces when he sees who she’s pulled aside—he’s certainly noticed and commented on the letters they’ve been exchanging back and forth—but she only waves him off.
“Are you cold?” she asks, and she can’t help laughing as he mock-glowers at her.
“No,” Zuko insists. Katara raises a brow at him, amused, and waits. “...Maybe.”
Giggling before setting her lantern in the snow, Katara then unwraps her own scarf from her neck and casts it over his head, circling it around his neck and moving a step closer to tie it for him. His flush darkens. This near, she can hear Zuko gulp, his heart stutter. 
“Better?” she smiles up at him.
“Yeah,” he smiles back, and then offers her a gloved hand, the one not holding his lantern. "Thank you." Katara takes it, picking up her own lantern from her other side, and joined in hand, they walk briskly together to meet again with the group.
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kj-yikes · 5 days
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yeowch i've been keeping a log of the fanfics i read this month and i have read 57 fics and 1,081,218 words lmaooooo we're only halfway through the month
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vampcoffeegyrl23 · 1 year
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Snowells Week 2023
FrostNash: Year 7 + Red (Gold)
(so, day 1/color + day 7/year 7???)
Fic premise:
A red string of fate Frost/Nash soulmate story.......but it's a thread that's gold because of the song "Invisible String" by Taylor Swift where the lyric goes "one single thread of gold tied me to you".
The story takes place in season 7. Newly released from prison, Frost’s a bit unsure of where to go with her life. She has Chillblaine following her around like a lost puppy dog and she just is not interested. He won't take a hint so one night a few beers in, Frost gets a little chilly with him. As he takes off wounding his ego, Nash shows up back from the dead. Why is he back? Why did he return near Frost? Why does Frost feel so happy he's back? Are they connected more than they know? What if he's not back permanently? They'll just have to figure out if all along there was some invisible string tying them together.
(Fic to come . . . . eventually. I hope.)
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ess-presso · 1 year
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the good place au chapter 2 slaying hard ✌️
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gghostwriter · 1 month
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One Single Thread of Gold
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Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader
Summary: The three times Penelope tries to solve a Spencer Reid riddle and the one time she (and the team) meet the reason behind all the changes Trope: Fluff! Just fluff and team banter! w.c: 4.0k a/n: For some reason, my earlier post on this disappeared dunno why. But this is a very self indulgent fic as reader’s background is basically based on the industry I work in. I had a lot of fun writing the team banter and I hope you enjoy it too! Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated 💗
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The first clue presented itself on a dull Wednesday night as the team, minus Hotch and Rossi, were leaving the bullpen after a full day of pushing papers. Penelope in all of her sunshine and colorful glory was buzzing about these accessories that she once spotted on a storefront window.
“I saw a pair of earrings and a matching necklace that would look so good with that top you bought the other day, JJ. You know, the blue one with those soft sleeves—they would look great with it. It’s tres boho chic.”
JJ smiled, opening her mouth to reply, but Spencer beat her to it.
“Did you know that boho chic was actually a response to political and social movements?”
“Wait, what?” Emily interjected.
He took her disbelief as a sign to continue on. “Yeah, yeah. There’s an article written about it in Vogue—softness and femininity historically appears in moments of political stress and war. Just like in the 70s with the hippie and anti-war movement that defined their style as a generation.”
They all piled into the elevator and turned to face the boy genius like he grew another head. For all they knew, this could be a clone and a very bad one at that. The Spencer Reid that they knew had absolutely no interest in the realms of fashion.
Penelope was the first to break the silence. “Vogue?”
“Kid, what gives? Just the other time, you didn’t know how many shoes a woman owns and now you’re some kind of expert?” Derek asked with both eyebrows raised.
“Did not knowing activate some kind of button that made you want to read about it?” Emily added on, feeling like she was in some kind of TV prank show.
“What?” Spencer licked his lips, nervous with all the attention on him. He felt like he was about to slip something up that he had been keeping to himself for a while now. A hidden precious gem that was you. “I—I like to read.” A believable excuse except his voice went up an octave, giving him away.
The three women shared a look.
“But you read academic textbooks and classic literature,” JJ stated.
Penelope added on. “Not fashion magazines.”
He shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I don’t discriminate when it comes to reading. If it’s interesting—” he shifted his weight one side to another, thinking that the ride down on the elevator seemed to be taking slower than usual. “—I’ll read it.”
Penelope narrowed her eyes. She was no profiler but she could smell a lie from a mile away way. That wasn’t the whole truth. Dr. Spencer Reid was hiding something.
“Okay, see you tomorrow!” he squeaked out as he ran out of the elevator once it hit the lobby.
She turned to the three profilers, stunned with the boy genius’ erratic behavior. “Huh, did anybody else get the feeling that Spencer was hiding something?”
“Maybe, but the kid does read a lot. Maybe he just ran out of books.” Morgan shrugged.
The other two profilers tilted their heads and slowly nodded in agreement. It wasn’t far off on something Spencer would do. He did once pick up a pamphlet in the airport to read as mentioned before to her by Derek, granted it was for a case but still, Penelope couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something else.
So when she arrived home that very same night, she propped up her laptop and got to digging. Boy Genius was hiding something big and Little Miss Oracle of Quantico can find anything with her tech skills. She’ll get to the bottom of this mystery, once and for all.
———
Spencer was glad to be coming home to your presence. Having spied the lights still on from the outside of the apartment, he took the steps two at a time, excited to see his 2nd favorite person after his mother—you.
“Spence?” You called out, having heard the mahogany front door open. “Is that you, baby?”
“Hey, love. I missed you,” he deposited his satchel to the nearby sofa and ran to give you a hug.
You burrowed yourself into his arms. All the muscles in your body relaxing as you caught a whiff of his cedar wood perfume—the same scent you’ve gifted to him during the early stages of dating. “I missed you too. How was your day?”
“Better now with you,” his words coming out muffled as he refused to detach himself from the embrace. “Actually, I almost slipped up today.”
You extricated from his arms to give him an inquisitive look. The slight scrunch on your nose and raised brows made his heart flutter. How expressive, free, and trusting you were. It reminded him of your first encounter. How you teasingly asked him if he was a serial killer when he offered you a ride home in the pouring rain and how you easily accepted regardless.
“Yeah? Did any of them catch on?” you probed as you pulled him by his belt loops to the direction of the bedroom.
He laughed, finding your aggression cute. “No. At least, I don’t think so.”
“Maybe we should schedule dinner with them sometime,” you coyly suggested as you slowly started to unravel his tie. “I mean, we’ve been together for over a year now and I have moved into your apartment, under the guise of watering your plants while you’re away. Which is a lie, by the way—”
“I have plants!” he protested. His hands divesting you out of his sweater, bringing to view his favorite silk set in deep purple that accentuated your skin and the blush on your cheeks.
“—that I brought over, Spence,” you quipped back. “But don’t worry, I won’t spill how the intelligent FBI agent fooled naive me into moving in with him.”
There was a glint in his eyes that sent shivers down your spine. “Love, I wouldn’t exactly call you naive—” his voice going an octave lower. “—not when you’re looking at me with those tempting eyes of yours.”
Giggling, you leaned in for a kiss, one that he quickly took over. His calloused dominant hand wrapped around the back of your neck, effectively caging you in while his other cradled your cheek—a stark contrast to the other. Kissing Spencer had always felt like a religious experience that you never want to part from.
Reluctantly pulling away, you caught glimpse of his need for you. His hazel eyes now dark as ink, nostrils slightly flared, teeth sinking into his lower lip, and his dominant hand dug into the fleshy nape of your neck. It made you feel desirable, like the goddess that he would call you when he’s on his knees tasting nectar from the source.
The discussion of inviting the team out for dinner was long forgotten. No other words were spoken as you pushed him on the bed—only the cries of his and your name and moans of ‘yes’ echoed well into the night.
***
The second clue was uncovered when Spencer walked into the cold windy bullpen with new black cardigan adorning his lithe body. It was non-descriptive to the untrained eye but for fashion enthusiast Penelope Garcia, she knew what those four white lines on the sleeve meant—luxury label and priced well above their pay grade.
She narrowed her eyes. The Spencer she knew wouldn’t dare spend his salary on anything besides limited first edition books. Something was truly up and she planned to get to the bottom of it as her initial online search turned up nothing.
“Reid, that’s a really nice sweater,” she complimented, throwing in her bait.
He smiled. The thought of who gave it to him warmed his heart. “Yeah. Yeah, thanks Garcia.”
Her sparkly pink kitten heels clacking on the floor as she came closer. “Can I see it?” she innocently asked.
The request threw Spencer off the loop but thought nothing of it as he shrugged and handed it to her—still warm from body temperature.
Her squeals caught the attention of the other profilers filling into the office.
“What is it, baby girl?” Morgan deposited his bag on the table and stationed himself beside her. “It’s Reid’s new sweater. Are you seeing something I’m not seeing?”
Garcia rolled her eyes. This was why females are considered more observant that their sex counterpart. Her chocolate thunder was a profiler but how could he not notice what she was deducing?
“Huh,” Emily surmised. “Based on the fibers, it’s definitely not polyester. Possibly a 100% wool, what do you think, JJ?”
“It says here on the tag—100% virgin wool,” she read out loud. “That makes it very expensive, right Garcia?”
The colorful tech analyst smiled. Her girls could never let her down. “Right you are, girlfriends! But it’s not only that, this—” pointing at the four stripes on the sleeve. “—this is a signature Thom Browne detail. Their prices go up to at least 600 dollars—” they all turned to Reid who seemed clearly agitated. “—now why does our boy wonder have a piece that could buy at most five cute heels?”
With his vast intellect, he couldn’t think of a way to weasel out of this impromptu interrogation. He couldn’t very well say that it was a gift now could he? If he did, that would lead to another hard hitting question ‘from who?’ He raked his hand through his curly hair, taking the same path as yours did just earlier as you gave him a kiss goodbye.
When you gifted him the cardigan from your last New York business trip, he really thought nothing of its material equivalence, besides feeling grateful and loved. It was proof that you paid attention to even the littlest details about him.
“Hey Spence, I got you something,” you looked up at him with sparkling eyes. The first thing you had done when you got home was run into his arms. A simple act that healed his aching heart from missing it’s other half.
You reached into your luggage, enthusiastically pulling out the black clothing wrapped in tissue paper like some magician pulling out a rabbit from a hat. “Here you go!”
“A new sweater!” He exclaimed.
You rocked on your heels, looking bashful as you explained the reasoning behind it. “I noticed you fidgeting when you wore the cardigan JJ gifted you last Christmas, the polyester fibers used on it must have been really itchy so I got you a new one—” your eyes widened at how your explanation could be taken the wrong way. “—not that her gift wasn’t great! No, it was very cute! It’s just—I want you to be comfortable and protected during your cases in cold states. Polyester is a good insulator of heat but wool is still the best.”
He loved how unabashed you rambled about your interests. That was one of the first things he piqued his notice. How you liked to share your knowledge about the fashion industry that you work for but never coming across as stuck up or snobby, you just genuinely wanted to educate anyone who had a wrong perception of the billion dollar commerce. Admittedly, he was one of them but hearing you rave about it’s nitty-gritty details and socio-economic movements changed his mind. It also helped that a beautiful and intelligent woman, such as yourself, was educating him.
He pulled you in for a kiss, stopping all the worries that ran through your head. “I love it. Thank you.”
“It’s nothing at all, baby. I like taking care of you. Just like how you take care of me,” you reasoned. “Plus I got it on sale courtesy of the magazine connections.”
A tap on his shoulder brought him out of his reverie. It was Penelope with an eyebrow raised at the subtle smile that graced his face while he replayed the moment in his head.
“Okay,” Morgan drawled. “What’s got you smiling, Pretty boy?”
“Nothing,” he squeaked out, turning to see Hotch make his way across the office. Spencer hurriedly collected his things and started to move even before their unit chief could call their attention.
“We have a case,” Hotch announced.
The remaining BAU members all looked at each other, silently communicating about Reid’s irregular demeanor, before piling into the conference room for another grueling scene of murder.
“He’s been acting weird,” Garcia rushed out. “Definitely hiding something. What do you think, Em?”
Emily nodded. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“A girl?” JJ guessed.
“Yes, must be a special one for him to keep secret for so long,” Garcia surmised. “Do you think he’ll hate it if I go further digging around to find out who she is?”
“Further?” Emily clarified.
JJ laughed. “Probably, let’s wait for him to volunteer the information. Okay, Garcia?”
She sighed, shoulders drooping, before nodding in agreement.
***
The third clue was quite literally handed to Penelope Garcia on the jet after a case when she accompanied the team.
“Cold Alaska is so not good for my skin,” she grumbled as she rummaged her bottomless bag for her favorite hand cream. “I love going with you all on trips rather than being stuck in my own tech cave but the weather wasn’t it.”
Morgan chuckled. “Aw c’mon baby girl, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy our time together?”
“You, my sculpted hunk, and the fireplace were the highlight,” Penelope turned to the other female profilers. “My beauties, do any of you have lotion? I think I lost mine.”
Before JJ or Emily could even utter a word, a tube made its way to her lap courtesy of her seat mate, Dr. Spencer Reid.
“Reid, since when do you carry lotion?” Emily inquired.
He shrugged. “Hand cream has it’s benefits besides from moisturizing the skin, it also provides an additional layer of protection. Depending on it’s properties, it can also repair and undo damage.”
The females all shared a look. This was another unexplainable behavior from their resident genius.
“We know that,” JJ stated. “We just thought you didn’t.”
His brows furrowed. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well, besides from the fact that you’ve never shown interest about skincare before, isn’t it a stereotype for men not to know? Unless—” Emily slyly smiled and nodded at Garcia to continue.
“Unless you have a girlfriend that we don’t know about,” Garcia bounced on her seat.
Hook, line, and sinker.
Spencer’s eyes widened in alarm. He didn’t realize he was walking into a trap before it was too late. “What makes you say that?”
They laughed.
JJ started. “Besides from you suddenly being knowledgeable in fashion—“
“—or having a pricey sweater you’d never buy for yourself—” Emily added on.
“Or, or—“ Garcia reached out to touch his hand. Which made Spencer react with a high pitched call of her name. “—having a shea butter lotion with rough hands!” She waved the tube up in the air. “Plus, this is half empty. So either it’s not working which I doubt since this is a good brand or you keep this in your bag for a special someone to use!”
Derek chuckled. “Baby girl, you could be a profiler at this point.”
“Oh tell me something I don’t know,” she quipped back. “So Reid, want to tell us the truth?”
He sighed, finding no escape. “Yes, yes I have a girlfriend.”
The girls all shrieked with laughter and their own corresponding questions of who is she? How did you meet? How long has this been going on? What does she do for a living? Is she pretty? Oh I bet she is!
“Looks like that cat is out of the bag,” Rossi nonchalantly stated.
Four sets of eyes turned to look at one of the BAU founders. “Rossi, you knew about this and didn’t tell me?” Garcia gasped, a hand to her chest at the thought of betrayal.
He laughed. “I caught them on a dinner date once and our boy wonder over here—“ nodded in Reid’s direction. “—begged me not to out him yet, said he wanted to be the one to tell the team the news but that was like what, six months ago?”
“Six months ago?” Emily repeated.
“Wait, wait. Hotch, don’t tell me you also knew?” Morgan asked.
The unit chief smiled. “She was added to Reid’s emergency contact last February.”
“February? That’s almost a year ago!” JJ sputtered out.
The tech analyst turned to glare at the youngest member of the BAU. “Reid, you better start spilling all the details or so help me, I will stalk all your digital footprint when we land until I find out who she is, where she lives, and what her deepest darkest secret is.”
“What about hearing it all from her, instead?” He rubbed the back of his neck. The secrecy had gone on for so long and there was no time like the present to introduce his chosen family to his chosen partner—hopefully until the end of time. “She wants to treat you all out for dinner tonight.”
All four nodded vigorously as they watched him pull out his phone and send a quick text to which you readily replied and agreed to.
“My man,” Derek sighed. “Can’t believe you got a girlfriend without me being your wingman.”
“Answer me at least this, is she pretty and does she make you happy?” Garcia asked. No matter how nosey she may be, she only wanted the best for Spencer and if the recent lightness and smiles were all caused by his mystery girlfriend, she already approved.
“The prettiest,” Spencer gushed out. “She’s my own personal sunshine.”
The three girls melted into their seats. Their youngest was all grown up waxing prose over his lover.
“She makes you sappy too,” Derek teased.
***
[EXTRA - When the mystery was uncovered]
Spencer had never felt any more nervous that this moment as he, with the rest of the team minus Hotch and Rossi, wait for your arrival. He sat with his back to the restaurant entrance and his cardigan laying on the empty seat beside him as a reservation mark. His eyes had been going back and forth to his idle phone and to the conversation the team was having.
Morgan noted his state of distress and chuckled. “You okay there, lover boy? She’s still coming right, your mystery girlfriend?”
“Yeah, yeah. She said she was on her way 9 minutes and 24 seconds ago and based on the route and traffic, she should have been here 45 seconds earlier. Just worried that something might have happened.”
Penelope leaned in, picking on her bubblegum pink choice of drink as she did. “You know, if you just told me her name I could have tracked every movement by now and you wouldn’t be sitting here worrying.”
“What—no Garcia, I don’t want her tracked plus she didn’t want you to know everything about her even before meeting her,” his voice going up an octave in your defense.
She shrugged. “I’m just saying. I mean we don’t know a single thing about her—”
“We do know she exists and you’ve been together for almost a year now,” Emily interjected.
“Actually, it’s been more than year—one year and 124 days to be exact.”
“Buttercup, all I’m saying is we don’t even know how she looks—” Garcia gasped, having spotted a passerby on the window and what she was wearing. “Oh my gosh, that maroon coat is to die for and that textured leather bag—I wonder if I could track her down and ask where she got it.”
“Oh she’s pretty,” JJ noted.
Derek smirked. “Baby girl, tell me if you plan to ask her ‘cause I wouldn’t mind asking for her number.”
The tech analyst’s eyes further widened as she noted the attractive woman going inside the restaurant.
“You weren’t kidding about that coat, Garcia, it looks really nice,” JJ appraised.
Emily squinted her eyes, taking note of the garment in question. “It looks high quality, probably vintage and—is she going near us?”
“Oh gods, she is! Act natural, act natural!” Penelope chanted as she repeatedly slapped Derek’s arm.
The stranger stopped behind Spencer. “Hey handsome,” your melodic voice was a siren that called to his every being. “Fancy seeing you here.”
Penelope’s jaw dropped as she took in Derek’s flustered reaction.
“Me?” He pointed at himself, getting picked up in such a public setting was new even for him—the ladies man of the BAU.
You laughed. “Well, you too but I was more of talking to this lover of mine—“ you bent down, kissing your boyfriend’s cheek. “Hey, Spence.”
A series of gasps were heard all around the table.
The youngest stood up and turned to give you a soft kiss on the lips. “Hey, Y/N. I was starting to get worried.”
“I missed the train, sorry I forgot to send an update,” you explained as he helped you into your seat.
Promptly seating back down, he angled his body to yours—all attention on you as if you were the only one in the room. And in a way you were, with how molten his doe eyes stared, alternating between yours and your painted lips that begged to be kissed.
He always felt breathless when you were near. It was as if he found his very own Aphrodite to worship here on earth. Spencer was no believer of fates or destiny but he would pray and light a candle if he needed to, just to keep you his. Your intelligent mind complimenting his, your outgoing personality that draws anyone in, and your face that could launch a thousand ships.
Those eyes that could read the deepest crevices of his fiber of being. Those cheeks that begged to be caressed by his calloused hands. Those soft lips that deserved to be kissed and devoured until you, in turn, were as breathless as he was. He suddenly wished you both were anywhere else but here—specifically in the confines of the apartment where he was free to express his love, devotion, and adoration until you scream his name and beg him to stop. His hand, having found it’s way to your thigh, squeezed the flesh three times—communicating his promise to have your hair laid around you like a halo as you lay under him, bare and writhing with need.
The blonde on the other end of the table cleared her throat, cutting through the tension.
“Okay, Spence,” she smiled. “Mind introducing us to your girlfriend?”
He brought your hand to his lips, leaving a series of sweet kisses on your knuckle. “This is Y/N, my girlfriend. Y/N, this is the rest of the team. Morgan—“ he gestured to each one. “Emily, JJ, and Garcia.”
“It’s nice to finally meet you!” You exclaimed. “So sorry we’re only meeting now. We wanted to stay in our little bubble for as long as we could plus this handsome FBI agent—” you nudged Spencer’s shoulder. “—wanted to keep me to himself. But where’s Aaron and Dave?”
Emily whispered under her breath. “Aaron? Dave?”
“They had prior commitments, love. They did send their regards and Rossi wants to invite you to the next gathering at his mansion,” Spencer explained.
“Love?” Penelope squeaked out. This was really starting to feel like Twilight zone for the team members.
You nodded. “I’ll definitely plot it on my calendar. Now, I heard you had some questions for me?”
“How’d you two meet?” JJ asked.
“When was the first date?” Emily inquired.
Penelope brought out a pen and paper. “What’s you social security number?”
Derek snorted at that. “Do you have any other siblings?”
Spencer’s eyebrows raised further and further up with each question while your shoulders shook with laughter.
“She has all the time in the world to get to know each of you,” Spencer laid out. “No need to make it sound like an interrogation.” He was wishing to keep you forever, if you’d let him.
You smiled as you caressed his cheek, having caught on to the veiled meaning behind his words. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
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Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!
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mrs-weasley-reid · 21 days
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AUGUST REC FICS
Hello, my sweets!! Here I am, once again, for yet another month of reading and living vicariously through our one and only Reader. I haven't read much this past month, and most of these sweet authors are people I follow (and shockingly, some are my mutuals, too !!! I'm too much of a fangirl to believe it's true). Give these gorgeous, spectacular writers a ton of love. They all deserve it so much, considering they're blessing us with such amazing work for free. Like. Comment. Reblog. The equivalent of a five-star review
Like always, I will be going based on what I've read recently and not by the date the fic was posted. Reminder to please respect these writers. Some contents are 18+. MINORS should not be interacting in any way.
— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿
Spencer Reid
✿ a muted shade of green by @dalamjisung ↳ the flow of this fic was so smooth my jaw dropped down on the floor as i read through (writer's first reid fic, and it was chef's kiss)
✿ hearts aligned by @raekensluver ↳ OMG this one had me melting. roommate spencer is such a dream
✿ sick love by @misserabella ↳ guilty pleasure unlocked. a wonderful reading session filled with interesting discoveries
✿ behind closed doors by @incognit0slut ↳ i loved binging this so much !!! was a giggling, kicking mess while reading this one; and it has four parts ! we're so spoiled
✿ kiss it better by @nereidprinc3ss ↳ tmi but was having an episode of mild anxiety attack, and this saved me in the middle of the night, giggling myself to sleep, so thank you for such amazing work x
✿ dead of night & nightvisions by @cxrrodedcoffin ↳ lol i read this at work and had to fight battles not to make any facial signs that i was consuming kinky content. the second part was another level, i was cackling like a witch
✿ much ado about nothing: act iii, scene v & act iv, scene i by @incognit0slut ↳ act iii, scene v left me speechless, reader didn't fold and i took that as a win. act iv, scene i played with my emotions lol
✿ just a number by @reidsdaisies ↳ i became a stand-up actress while reading this because it's overwhelmingly spicy and filled with tension i had to provide comedic relief for myself
✿ untittled req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ no because i saw my reblog post of this and i immediately snorted and then laughed some more after rereading it. pipe cleaner will never not be funny to me
✿ poison me, i'm fine by @gghostwriter ↳ no because this one needs more attention ?????????????? i loved reading this so much i was so tempted to pull my heart out and ship it to pau, show how crumpled it was after reading
✿ my best colors for your portrait & my face in every place by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ i wasn't lying when i said august is for angst and i immediately gobbled this up after seeing it. the way my chest was so tight but also smiling because the writing style is amazing got me looking like a lunatic
✿ cute, outraged genius by @lavenderspence ↳ tina got me laughing like a gremlin. it's so adorable she made me fall in love with spencer all over again
✿ another untitled req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ sorry, sweethearts, ket just couldn't be bothered with titles lmao. secret lover reader is my favorite lover, sooooo you all will enjoy this cutie patootie creation
✿ one single thread of gold by @gghostwriter ↳ you'll overdose of sweetness. it's so adorable and a great way to feel giggly about spencer reid.
✿ for the fear of falling apart | part one by @pathologicalreid ↳ i haven't read the rest of the parts but mhmmm this was DELISH. well-written creation that made me show emotions while reading at work. my coworkers asked me my my eyes were so wide and i think that says a lot at how great this is
✿ second to none by @raekensluver ↳ ooooo this one got my blood boiling in a good way
✿ untitled work by @sincerelybubbles ↳ adorable stuff make me melt especially when it's a spencer one
— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦
Aaron Hotchner
✦ darling, in any life series by @hotchfiles ↳ at this point are we even surprise im including yet another series form lari here ? anywayyy, i love me some old flame trope
✦ picket fence dream by @hotchfiles ↳ this is a new part from the choiceless hope series and i gobbled it up. i was screaming when i read this
✦ tells by @ssahotchnerr ↳ first thing i read in the morning, and i sobbed from the overwhelming sweetness
✦ silver by @solardrop ↳ okay but this was so adorable ??? plus im def one of those gals who tried to throw herself on him, maybe even catapult myself
✦ sympathy for the devil by @hotchfiles ↳ nosebleed. spice level is not as high as i make it seem but the writing really got me sweating. just read it, you'll understand what i mean
✦ spending time with you by @lavenderspence ↳ no because TINA CALLED ME OUT WITHOUT CALLING ME OUT. i was slightly offended. the gasp i gasped was so loud asdkfnkg. but it is adorable, go read it pls pls
✦ doctor, love by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ i love when reader slaps the character with some reality like a seasoned raw steak.
sorry, not sorry if this post is filled with lari. I reread her works religiously, so here are my favorites from hers truly:
✦ help me hold onto you ↳ oh, this is like crack for me, and i always come crawling back no matter how hard i try to stay sober
✦ half asleep takin' chances ↳ still waiting for future aaron somewhere out there
✦ choices ↳ gonna be honest with everyone this one makes me wanna deck aaron hotchner and then deck reader for folding so easily and also deck myself because im no better than reader
✦ quis ut deus? & daniel 12:1 ↳ my fave series from lari and i will never not reread them over and over and over and over again because i love it so much idk what's the appeal on me but i love it and i want this framed and buried with me even if it's unfinished
I haven't had a lot of time to visit the good ole "for you" feed in a while, so I apologize for missing all the amazing work every writer has put out this month. I will make it up to you, I promise! And if you'd like, you can send me works or mention me so I can read certain creations that you deem noteworthy for the next rec fic month!
love lots, ker x
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neverthatsirius-jo · 21 days
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august recs <3
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trying a new format bc it's probably best to separate by character rather than piece of media and i wanted to yap a little. sue me.
— aaron hotchner.
needy & embarrassed by @lavenderspence
↳ flustered hotch and everyone making fun of him is so funny <3
untitled by @how2dream
↳ reader is me if i were ever to be in the presence of hotch. cute <3
— james potter.
the new hire by @mischievousmoony
↳ i haven't finished the whole series but i'm already loving it so much. james is writen so jamesly and the dialogues are so funny and i was just smiling the whole time <3
sweet night by @foodiegoogie
↳ read this if you play guitar!! read this if you play guitar!! also read if you don't because it was very sweet.
untitled by @luveline
↳ the confusion about muggle things had my face hurting from smiling so much. so cute <3
— spencer reid.
you're the risk, i'll take it by @gghostwriter
↳ i love these '# times that... and one that...' fics. pure fluff.
please don't say you love me by @nereidprinc3ss
↳ felt this one a little too hard. the writing is chef's kiss.
wicked by @reidmania
↳ short and fluffy. like a pancake <3
lava lamp by @nereidprinc3ss
↳ read this exactly the day i needed it. had me wishing spencer was real (more than usual).
falling behind by @catssluvr
↳ idiots in love trope has a special place in my heart. cute!! <3
curveball by @gghostwriter
↳ sweeeet.
camaraderie by @gghostwriter
↳ can anybody tell i was having a marathon of her fics? good. you should too.
one single thread of gold by @gghostwriter
↳ this one was everything to me. love fics where the whole team makes an appearance. 10000/10
never grow up by @parfaitblogs
↳ i was 100% not kidding when i said i cried. tears were shed.
guess by @parfaitblogs
↳ the dialogue!! the dialogue!!
risk by @parfaitblogs
↳ perfect.
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utterlyotterlyx · 4 months
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The Girl Who Cheated Death
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Azriel x Fem!Reader
Summary - There was no one in any universe who would dare to approach you without fear, that is until you meet a certain Shadowsinger. Once stone cold and vicious in your own right, you soon come to realise that perhaps all it takes is a pretty male with hazel eyes to set you free.
Warnings - kinda dark reader, stone cold, lots of sass, swearing, drinking, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of trauma, some subtle sexual tension, everyone being afraid of the reader because she's giving death vibes x
Word Count - 8.9k
Physical descriptions are present in this fic.
Based on this ask! Thank you @cleverzonkwombatsludge for the request 🫶🏻
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"Can I offer some criticism?"
"If it's constructive..."
"You're an idiot," the unwinding braid at your side loosened more with each twist of your fingers, and to your right, through the reflection of the recently polished vanity mirror stood Amren, your closest friend that you had gained when you had first moved to the Night Court one hundred years ago.
It had been no accident that you and Amren had met, in fact, she had been the one to seek you out after a rather intriguing show you had directed at Rita's. Amren watched man after man almost break their necks to look at you, the most beautiful resident of the Night Court, and in all of Prythian. Hair that reminded Amren of a black widow swayed behind you in perfectly loose curls, it was sinfully dark and shone in the faelight, shimmering so brilliantly that Amren had thought that threads of silken web were weaved between each glossy black strand.
Amren also remembered the dress you had worn, it was short and tight, the fabric hugged every curve of your body and kissed the thighs that were connected to those incredible taut calves. If looks could kill then the Night Court would certainly fall to its knees.
It wasn't what you looked like that caught Amren's attention, however. It was the way that every single person in that room shrunk away from your stare, a stone iced glare that was void of any life, all that lay in them was ire and boredom, which quite perfectly summed up what you felt about life in general.
The firedrake sought you out, coming by the gallery you had opened in the city which held an array of carefully collected artworks and mysteriously rare antiques, just to get a glimpse of you, to see the one who had been the first to pique her eye in centuries. Amren had not been disappointed by you. There was something about the way you carried yourself that attracted her to your aura, the perfect posture and slightly hooded eyelids that encased walnut orbs that glimmered gold in the sun. That wasn't all, no, it was also the way you spoke, so sultry and dark, but there was a certain elegance your words. A siren luring souls to the darkest depths of the ocean floor.
Rhys had once suggested that you'd never truly age considering you never smiled. That had earned him a rare small quirk of your lip, and he considered it to be his greatest achievement of his life to date.
It had made sense that the Night Court had been the place where you had chosen to settle, it had moulded very well with you, to the point where Day had become an infantile dream that was floating away in your subconscious. Forgotten.
Despite being a collector of sorts, Amren had soon found out just how far your talented talons stretched, you were incredibly well versed in old dialects, ancient symbols and traditions, a talent that Rhys had soon asked Amren to take advantage of since he was too afraid of you to ask you for aid himself.
Seemed as though the terrifying High Lord of the Night Court was actually scared of something.
"How exactly am I an idiot?" Amren enquired with darkened orbs that kept on glancing downward to the scars that littered the bare spine from the licks of Illyrian whips. They were slightly raised and pallid in comparison to the rest of your healthy glowing hue.
Untethering the last of your braid, you ran your nails over your scalp and pulled slightly, shivering at the relief that surged through you as your hair fell unbound down your spine. All the taut tension in your body quickly evaporated. Silently, you turned on your seat to face your friend, "You're asking me to revamp my evil lair to make it more welcoming for your odd little family," you said incredulously and unblinking, "You're an idiot."
Amren wasn't exactly asking you to make your own home more appeasing to the Inner Circle, she simply meant the private office that Rhys had bestowed to you for whenever he needed your help with something, and it had become a place that you frequented often. It was located in the library of the House of Wind so that your nimble fingers had access to all of the books and ancient texts they needed.
The only settling thing about that office was the view of the golden valley of Velaris, of the snow-capped mountains that loomed to the north. Everything else filled any resident with dread. Tall well-loved candles were scattered about the space, cloths stained with millennia old text hung from the ceilings, tomes lay splayed open on the desk and centre table, each depicting some form of terror. To you, your work was fascinating, studying the origins of evil and all of its forms, to others it was petrifying.
It wasn't odd to find the firedrake confined in your apartment, whether you be with her or not, glass of red in hand and reading some sort of research text. Amren often didn't even glace up at you when you entered your own home, all she noticed was your shadow gliding across the room, drowning out the golden candlelight.
"Rhys would spend more time with you if you did. He's actually really insightful, he could help you with your study."
"Why would I want to spend time with him?"
A poor attempt from Amren to try and push you into a monotone civilian life yet again.
"Fine," Amren rolled her coiling silver eyes and tutted, "Are you ready? Rhys doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Irritation was rife in her voice, you clasped a dainty blood diamond around your neck and allowed your shoulders to drop, "I don't particularly care for your High Lord's time." Rhys was not your High Lord and he knew it, he knew that you couldn't be ruled over and would never answer to anyone but yourself. A queen of her own kingdom. But one he very much wanted to keep on his side.
"Y/N," Amren bit, and you too tugged back the smirk that was quaking in the corners of your mouth.
Meeting her fiery gaze in the mirror, you rolled your head to the side in one swooped graceful motion, "I'm teasing, Amren." Rising from the bench before the vanity, you felt the silken hem of your dress brush against your feet. It was a simple garment, black buttoned up fabric, a deep v-neckline that showed the beginnings of your cleavage, short and soft floating sleeves that cuffed above your elbows.
Smirking with approval, Amren moved to the front door of your ornately beautiful apartment, a personal haven of yours that was vastly different to the office at the House of Wind. Brunette carpets thick enough to sleep upon covered the space, the walls were a shade of milked coffee, warm and inviting, and the ceilings were a soft cream and coved with intricate carvings. A large fire bundled into the far wall at the centre of a wall of windows, before it was a onyx seating area of plush deep seated sofas and armchairs.
It was charming. One of the best views of Velaris was from your living room window.
Leaving your home with the click of the lock, you followed after Amren, falling into place beside her as you walked up the winding paths to the House of Wind. The feeling of people's eyes trailing you had become something you'd become rather accustomed to, they were astounded by your beauty, amazed by how someone could look so breath-taking yet so horrifying.
The House of Wind was as it always was, incredibly luxurious in its own right and shivering at your entrance. It wasn't like the house didn't like you, it just struggled to adjust to your energy, it was starkly different to the usual joy it mostly held.
The echoing voices halted when you rounded the corner, your scent of jasmine and sandalwood soaring through the air, infecting their oxygen. Violet eyes appeared before you within a couple of moments, always wary, always laced with the tiniest bit of fear, "Thank you for meeting with us."
"Well," your eyes sliced across the room, absorbing every face and feature and feeling somewhat intrigued by a face you had never seen before. Tall and tan, shadows swirling at his shoulders, large wings that he had mindfully tucked behind his back, and shiny black hair that fell over his forehead. Rhys stood before you waiting for you to speak, your eyes found his and you hummed, tapping your finger against your clothed thigh, "Anything for the firedrake."
A chortled scoff flew from Cassian and Rhys stepped aside slightly to expose you to the general who soon choked on the air, "Something funny, Cass?" Rhys asked with a smirk, he motioned for you to find a seat and make yourself comfortable.
A deep rooted velvet armchair called to you and you moved to it, paying little attention to the hazel eyes fixated upon you. "No, not at all," Cassian sent you a tight-lipped smile which made Nesta grin, enjoying his discomfort nearly as much as you.
Flames danced in your eyes, the fire burning brightly in the fireplace that welcomed your gaze as though it was a mirror. Turning your head, you folded your hands over your thighs, feeling the exposed skin that lay there from the seamless slit in the fabric.
"How about you skip whatever small talk you were going to offer and get to the point, Rhysand?"
Widened pupils possessed Nesta's gaze, she leaned back into her seat and smirked, a wickedly feline feature, and spoke, "I like you."
No words left your lips, you held her gaze and felt your darkness bubble at her determination to withstand your stare, but she soon stood down; though, she continued to watch you, noting your posture and the way you held yourself. Nesta was in awe.
And she wasn't the only one.
"Straight to the point as always, y/n."
"Am I supposed to be anything but?" Rhys sighed, a headache already forming at his temples from your dry sassing. Perhaps he needed some of that powder that Elain had gifted to Azriel last solstice.
The High Lord pinched the bridge of his nose and slid his hand to rest on Feyre's knee, a sweet gesture, "We need your help with some particular text that none of us can translate. If anyone is going to be able to decipher it then it would be you."
"What text?"
Boredom coiled in your gut, "It's the story of Koschei, we believe that there may be a key hidden within the text that could help us to defeat him." The coil loosened and your eyebrow twitched, and a dark spot to your left caught that millisecond-long expression, sliding back to its master and humming in his ear.
Koschei was a death-god, a personification of evil. To have your hands on such a text would more than aid your research. It would make you infamous in the underworld of Prythian.
"Is it in my office?" Rhys straightened and nodded stiffly; rising to your feet, you brushed down the pleats of your skirt, "I'll take a look."
Before you could move from the room, a gentle clearing of a throat sounded from behind you, beckoning and hesitant. Slowly, you turned around, noticing how Rhys was now standing, "I would like Azriel to help you with this. I believe that your collective talents will be able to decipher the message faster."
Of course. The illustrious Shadowsinger that you had never had the displeasure of meeting. Azriel, Spymaster of the Night Court.
"Studies have shown that I didn't ask for your opinion, High Lord," if anyone else had used the mocking tone toward his title they would have been misted on the spot. But not you, never you. Rhys was too afraid that Hell would rise from your ashes and devour the continent if he even tried it.
A cool kiss slithered around your ankle, and when you peered down you found a shadow curling there, caressing your skin and shivering in delight. Your eyes followed the tendril back to its owner who was clearly mentally scrambling to pull his shadow back to the others. Hazel collided with molten gold and you found yourself yearning for the shadow to return.
"I have to insist," his voice wavered and it didn't go unnoticed by you.
Amren sucked in a breath, shrinking further into her spot wedged between Mor and Elain, knowing that she told had told Rhys multiple times to never order you to do anything.
"What do you fear, Rhysand?"
"I think that you'll find that the word fear is not in my vocabulary," he doubled down and you couldn't blame him, he was an alpha protecting his territory.
Ticking your head to the side, your eyes dragged up his body, and you smirked, a real one that made his blood chill, "Perhaps. But it's in your eyes," not giving him a chance to respond, you turned to Azriel, finding him looking up at you with an almost bewitched possession in his eyes, "Stay out of my way."
Not another word was spoken as you stalked from the room, the only sound being the footsteps of Azriel who had speedily followed after you. Neither of you spoke on the descent down to the library, even that vast space of aged excellence watched you enter; you almost floated across the room, a grace in your steps that Azriel had never seen before, and it had him needing to know more.
How Azriel had never met you astounded him, he would certainly remember a face like yours. It was one that held the power to haunt his dreams.
As promised, the texts had been left on your desk, and you moved to them instantly, tracing your fingers down the bound leather spine and examining the golden embossment, picking apart the symbols in your mind. Rounding the large oaken desk, you pulled the text with you, opening the cover and not even flinching when it thudded against the desktop.
Thick waves fell over your shoulder and you mindlessly tucked them back from where they had originated, not caring about the effect it had on the Shadowsinger who noted how your fingers grazed against your collarbone on its return to the ancient pages before your insightful eye.
"I've never been in here before," a weak attempt to strike up conversation with you. Azriel had heard much about you from Cassian and Rhys, of how awful terrifying you were, how you intimidated every single person that crossed your path and seemingly enjoyed the terror of it.
Azriel understood it, there was something about you that was unnerving, that he could understand why people were uncomfortable in your presence, but he only found himself in wonderment of it.
Without looking up, you turned the page gently and muttered, "Why would you? It's my office."
Displeasure was prominent on your tongue, the taste of it swelled in the muscle but you didn't allow it to be vile, you pulled the bile back and silently choked on it.
Azriel drank in the room, the begging to be lit candles and the large arched windows, the aged tapestries of history that were clearly too valuable to display in your gallery, "The creation of the cauldron," the words pulled you from the text and your gaze narrowed in on the Shadowsinger rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet with his hands folded neatly at his back.
"How do you know that?"
The Shadowsinger circled to face you and took a tentative step to the edge of the desk, "I've seen a couple of the same markings in a cave. This is the original?"
"Yes," there were many deplorable things you had taken part in to secure your collection as the most impressive in the entire universe, some things you weren't proud of, others, you were very much so.
"How did you get it?" Azriel admired the piece, a depiction of Prythian's creation that no one would ever guess was as important as it was, all because they couldn't read the first language of the fae.
Sitting back in your seat, you placed your magniscope on the surface, an ornate tool used by curators and researchers alike to read between the lines of existence, and watched him, "There are some things in this world that would make even your blood burn, Shadowsinger."
The way you said his name had a shudder flickering down his spine, your tone was sultry and low, like you knew of his darkness and had decided that it was a star in comparison to whatever lived within you.
A golden glow shrouded the room from the setting sun kissing the mountain peak, it washed over you, its light glittering your skin with shimmer, turning your eyes into burnished gold. The blood diamond around your neck cascaded speckles of its hue across the ceiling, and your chest rise an fell with even, calm breaths.
Forgetting the reason why he stood before you, Azriel allowed himself a moment to examine you, the beautifully loose hair that swam down that perfectly curved spine, the eyes and cheekbones, the full lips and the indents of your collarbone. You were by far the most incredible thing he had ever seen.
The stolen moment wasn't one that escaped your eye, a gentle heat pooled at your cheeks and you had no option but to look away, clearing your throat and pouring your attention back into the text in front of you.
Coiling the magniscope in your fingers, you hovered it over the written symbols on the page, moving it in line with every line and swirl you could see. It was a heavy object, and you hadn't been surprised when Amren had mistook the glass orb as a bookend.
"What do you know of Koschei?" Azriel found a place in the seat opposite you, his shadows danced from his shoulders and began to inch toward you, and he made no move or command to stop them.
"There are many legends," you began, craning your neck to peer at the top of the adjacent page, "Attacking his physical body won't harm him, he has split his soul into parts and placed them in other living creatures or sentient objects. Destroy the objects and you have a better chance of ending him."
Azriel angled himself forward, propping his elbows on his knees, "How do you know that?"
Again, without looking up, you spoke, "When you spend a lot of time in the Underworld of this continent you pick up a few things. You also learn how to decipher the truth from the lies."
Another gentle turn of the page.
The taupe scribing possessed the faintest words written in a pale gold ink, so miniscule that any other magniscope wouldn't be able to see it. Though yours wasn't just any ordinary magniscope, it was forged with the stardust of a fallen star, a star that used to burn the brightest in the northern skies.
"You know of the Underworld?"
For a moment, your gaze flickered upward, golden pools peering through your long thick lashes, "Very well."
It wasn't surprising that you had dabbled in the darkest reality of the continent, your knowledge was not cheap, and it wasn't knowledge that you could gain from books alone. Azriel wondered how many souls you had stripped from the earth on your quest for knowledge, perhaps it would cause his count to pale in comparison.
"I could only imagine what someone would do for this level of knowledge," his voice lingered, questioning, requiring to know every corner of the mind locked within the female in front of him.
"Are you trying to compare body counts, Spymaster? If so, I assume I would be disappointed with your lacklustre attempts."
Then you were back on the text, scribbling words down in the notepad to your left without even glancing to it, focused to the point where no letter strayed from the lines. But you still felt his eyes on you, waiting, scouring your face and trying to figure out why exactly he had never crossed paths with you before considering your occupation.
"Don't you have some doe-eyed damsel to go and rescue?"
Even with the fleeting few minutes spent with the Inner Circle, you saw how Elain Archeron looked at him, all love-sick and hopeful. Elain was a perfectly mundane being, content with all things bright and pretty. It was sickening.
Biting back the urge to roll his eyes at the thought, Azriel shuffled into his seat, seemingly getting more comfortable, "No."
"Shame," you mused, impressing Azriel with how you scribed, analysed and spoke all at the same time. A very powerful mind was dwelling within you, and it had his attention.
Azriel was finding your dry words quite amusing, though he was spending his time sat before you in silence, sketching every inch of your face and body to his memory.
A soft tug pulled at your brows, and if Azriel wasn't fixated upon you then he surely would have missed it. He let a minute pass, a minute where the pace of your analysation quickened alongside the rate of your writing. Again, your hair fell over your shoulder, clearly bothering you but you couldn't move it, not when you were so entranced, and it took all of his will to not do it for you.
Questioning you on your findings, your eyes held a certain twinkle to them as you explained your theory. That Koschei had in fact fractured his soul and implanted the pieces of it within other living creatures and objects, and that to hunt those objects down was the only way to be able to banish him from the world.
"Run and tell your master," you told him after you were done explaining how to find the first host of Koschei's soul, "I'm sure he will be thrilled with your input."
Which was very little, Azriel hadn't done anything other than invade your space and make himself far too comfortable, but he didn't argue, he simply stood from his seat and bowed, taking your hand in his marred digits and raising it to his lips, brushing them against your knuckles and thanking you before leaving you to your silence.
The ghost of his touch lingered on you skin, as did the licks at your calves from the shadows he hadn't cared to reign in upon his exit.
It was then that a small yet foreign warmth pooled in your chest, you rubbed the spot gingerly and sighed, returning to reality and shaking your head back to sense. Finding peace in the confined corners of your mind.
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The next instance where you found yourself in Azriel's presence had been one warm afternoon in the library.
Velaris had been scorched by the sun, the summer breezes swept across the city, and you had decided to wear a simple grey dress that afternoon, it was lightweight enough to flow in the gentle caress of the wind but still managed to keep to your usual elegant yet sharp style.
Since that insisted couple of hours in your office a couple of weeks ago, you were ashamed to admit just how much your thoughts drifted to the Shadowsinger you had seen lurking in the corners of your consciousness. The darkness was lingering in the farthest reaches, as if it didn't wish to be discovered by you but couldn't steer itself away.
The ladder beneath your feet creaked as you reached across the shelf, tongue stuck out of the side of your mouth as you strained slightly, your fingers barely brushing against the spine of the book you needed. A familiar cool presence washed over you, trailing up your skirt and arms and extending from your fingers to remove the book from the shelf and place it in your awaiting grasp.
Peering back to the ground, you saw Azriel stood at the foot of the ladder with his hands resting at his sides; balling the skirt up in your fingers, you used the railing the lower yourself back to the earth and paused in front of Azriel who had a brow quirked in curiosity, "Thank you."
"You're welcome," his voice matched your own but he found himself faltering when you went to walk by him. His voice called out to you, "I just wanted to let you know that we found the first host."
You paused your steps and turned, "And?"
"It's destroyed," and clearly the gravity of it weighed on him, he had to have known that Koschei wasn't exactly going to make the objects easy to destroy, but it still didn't mean that it wasn't traumatising.
Understanding what he meant, at the life he had just taken to protect to continent, you took a step toward him, an olive branch of sorts, "Are you alright?"
Itching with confusion, Azriel nodded slowly, "I didn't think you cared."
You shrugged, nonchalant, and scuffed the heel of your sandal against the floor with your gentle kick, "I don't."
Azriel hummed, a serene grin tugging at the corners of his lips, "I think that you do," Azriel took a step forward and noticed how your back straightened and shoulders rolled back.
The book became plastered to your chest, "Whatever you think is of little concern to me."
Two weeks had passed, two weeks of not only searching for the first host of Koschei thanks to your wildly impressive knowledge, but two weeks of Azriel doing all he could to gain your attention. It had been difficult to see you at Rita's, swaying to the music without a care in the world beside Amren, and not be able to touch the skin that seemed as smooth as honey.
His shadows had been following you, reporting back to him of how you spent your days cooped up in your apartment reading or in your office analysing another ancient text. They reported no men, nothing untoward or damning, they simply whispering to him how pretty you were. They had been bewitched by you, utterly obsessed with everything that you were, and he couldn't blame them.
Turning on the balls of your feet again, you entered your office, leaving the door open in silent permission that Azriel basked in as he followed you inside, "I'm trying to talk to you, y/n."
A soft hum vibrated against your lips. Placing the book once glued to your chest on the centre table of the room, you faced Azriel once more. The office was cold, as was every chamber built below the main infrastructure of the house, and Azriel wondered how you could be so at home within it.
It was entrancing how a room so dark and full of evil texts and passages could make you look so ethereal. The glossed black hair he had often dreamt of running his fingers through was tied back in a loose thick braid, whisps of hair fell from the vines of it and settled over your eyes. Ornate jewellery twinkled in the pale sunlight, swirls of gold encased your fingers and wrists, and a coiled necklace that resembled a scaled serpent glided around the base of your neck.
"What would you like me to say? I did tell you how to find the first host so that you could destroy it. I don't require updates, Azriel," the movement of your tongue as you said his name for the first time had his resolve withering.
"Well, I suppose we'll have to warm ourselves by the glow of your I told you so."
Then, as though the sun was blessing the earth after eons of slumber, your lips widened into a grin, one big enough to expose your perfectly white teeth and Azriel felt the dark storm clouds in his soul splinter. A golden threat soared through him, reaching out to you and entwining itself with the thread bristling at your centre.
Sculpted fingers drifted over that spot in your chest that had become increasingly hard to ignore and you inhaled sharply. Azriel's pupils had dilated, they were wide and frenzied, and his hand was outstretched to you.
The smile on your face dropped.
"You're my mate," Azriel nodded at the words you had managed to utter, the same ones that had become lodged in his throat.
Heat prickled at his skin, nerves seeped into his bones. You were so unreadable, and Azriel was scrambling his thoughts to clear so that he may be able to figure out how you felt about it. About being fated to be his.
Azriel had learnt from Amren how unaffectionate you were, how much you hated anyone touching you. It was because of the Illyrian camps you had visited in your younger years where they had thought you a witch, and had punished you for it in a barbaric way; the evidence still lingered on your skin in long angry streaks, and Amren had admitted that night is what spurred on your need to understand the roots of evil.
It was understandable, to spend a lifetime studying the one thing that had ever truly hurt you. For what reason, Azriel didn't know, but he liked to think that it was to cause evil to cower in your presence.
Silence shrouded the room like a disease, infecting and poisoning everything in its path, and Azriel way becoming increasingly worried about how your smile had dropped. Was he truly that repulsive to you? He could only ever dream to be mated with someone like you, someone who welcomed death like an old friend and would entertain it in an eons long waltz, someone who was poised and elegant but so brilliantly lethal that it made even him shudder.
Taking an unsettling step toward you, Azriel loosened a breath when he saw that you hadn't retreated, his eyes were trained on you as he took another step, and then another, until his shadow danced with you own, "I'm your mate."
Rhys and Cassian would be mortified of the news, Azriel was sure that Rhys found you terrifying in the same way that Cassian found Bryaxis. No of that mattered though. Not to him. Not when he now belonged to a female as striking and dangerous as the blood in his veins.
A faint blush crept up your cheeks at the proximity, the tendrils connected to his essence peered over his shoulders seemingly apprehensively thrilled that it was you stood before them, "Yes, you are."
Azriel's gaze drifted down to your lips and left dragged back upward to your eyes, "Can I touch you?"
A part of you froze at the desperate question. You hadn't let anyone touch you in years, you couldn't remember the last time you laid with a male or female, you couldn't remember what a simple even felt like. Amren had never even tried to get too close to you let alone anyone else.
In the first vulnerable emotion you had ever let anyone see, you sheepishly nodded, eyes boring into his own and he didn't break his stare as his fingers twitched toward you, ghosting along your skin and melting at the heat they found there. Mindlessly, you shifted when his palm lingered a whisker away from the slope of your neck and his eyes became stitched with concern but softened when you had won the fight against your fear to stand still once more.
Azriel's hand lowered, resting against your skin that was softer than his imagination could ever fathom. His thumb drifted down the column of your throat and you swallowed, hard.
"You don't have to accept this or me," he told you, his voice tantalisingly cooing to you in a hush above a whisper, "But gods, y/n. I really hope that you do."
Azriel saw through you then, through that façade you wore like a medal. And he found what saw to be quite heart-breaking. Stood before him was a woman, one that possessed a brilliant mind and equally captivating beauty, but beneath it all was the girl who was brutalised so badly that she vowed to never allow another person close again.
"You're my mate," you spoke with a certain conviction that hadn't graced your words the last time, Azriel watched your lashes flutter, and he felt his soul singing when those eyes found him again, "I'm not letting you go."
Gracefully, your fingers curled around his wrist, your index finger sleeping just over the faint beat of his pulse, just where his marred flesh faded to memory, "You accept it?"
"I- yes, I do."
Jasmine and sandalwood drowned his lungs, and he would have died happy just to be able to say that he knew what your shampoo smelt like. Papaya and coconuts. He gingerly ran his fingers through your hair, noting how much you loved the feeling of it as you shivered in his arms. Azriel pressed a dainty but tender kiss to your brow, and it had you realising that maybe you were allowed to give yourself this one thing that the younger version of you had always dreamt of.
Azriel hadn't tried to push you further, he knew that the moment of allowing someone to touch you, to hold you, was far more momentous than finding your mate.
Instead he asked you a simple question, it was more of an offering than anything. To spend time together away from the prying eyes of his family, so that you may become comfortable with one another before allowing anyone else into it. You had agreed. Eagerly.
So the next few weeks drifted by, afternoon walks along the Sidra, morning breakfast drop-offs at your office, after hours visits to the gallery where you would tell him of your adventures and how on some occasions you barely survived. Azriel was in complete awe of you, he sat beside you on your love seat completely captivated by you, his fingers tracing small circles into your thighs and his shadows curling through your hair. And that smile, gods, that smile could make even the most poised male lose all sense. It was bright and gleaming, and your skin glowed with the happiness of it.
Then you had decided to break the news to the Inner Circle, and as you stood before those doors oozing with grandeur, you felt nerves pinch at your skin, "Are you ready?" Azriel's fingers were tangled with yours and he bowed his head to place his lips on your bare shoulder.
"Yes." Azriel gave your hand a gentle tug, willing you to move from your spot located just behind him.
The aura of the house had shifted, now, it was inquisitive, glancing to the mirrors and then back to your hands to see if what it was seeing was real. Laughter echoed at the end of the hall, your scent had usually silenced them by now, but not this time. Now that your scent was mixed with Azriel’s it seemed much less threatening. Pity.
Turning the corner, you became startled by the smash of a glass, shards of it glided along the floor and fell at your feet. Looking up, you found Mor frozen in place, wide eyes and bewildered. The rest of the room craned to attention, collectively moving their eyes from Mor, to you, and then to Azriel, and then to your entwined fingers.
It took a minute, but you could have sworn you heard the bell ding in Cassian’s empty brain, “Oh shit,” he rose to his feet, wings flaring slightly as a wide grin gripped his mouth.
Rhys appeared before you both, gaze lowered in surprise, clearly trying to picture a timeline in his mind. The High Lord looked to his Spymaster, “Are you-“
“Mates?” Azriel finished incredulously, knowing that your moulded scents had already infected the room, and turned his head to you, orbs gleaming and adoration speckled on his cheeks, “Yes.”
Elain Archeron had sank into her seat, doing her best to not pay attention to you in particular whilst her stomach churned with the scent seeping into her bones. Subconsciously, you moved closer to Azriel, a slightly territorial action that made him smirk.
It had been a brief conversation that you had suffered through, the one where Azriel had made it very clear that the situation with Elain was brutally one-sided. Azriel had only sought to be nice to her, to help her to adjust to her new body and life because she was Feyre's sister and Feyre was his High Lady, and she had taken his kindness for something much more than what it truly was.
Leading you to the velvet armchair that you would usually slither into, Azriel sat and motioned for you, turning you in his hands so that his touch never left your thighs, and pulled you to his lap. A bashful smile formed on your face and you could feel the eyes of the room on you, equally as confused as shocked.
"Since when?" Nesta had asked after sipping from the goblet of red wine between her fingers, the liquid staining her plump pale lips, and she used her thumb to wipe a singular droplet before it ran down her chin. Her eyes held an emotion you couldn't quite make out, Azriel had admitted that Nesta was just as unreadable as you at times, but the way his digits dug into your flesh told you that what the eldest sister was feeling was an assortment of jealousy. Not toward you, toward him.
"The bond snapped just over a month ago," Nesta hummed and burrowed herself into the cushions, pouting slightly, like she was an infant who had her favourite toy taken from her grasp. "We wanted to explore it before we properly accepted it or told anyone."
That made Elain's doe-like stare move from the floor to your mate who was sat with you on his thighs rubbing small circles into your shoulders, "So you haven't accepted it?"
Your jaw clenched at the question, the question that was perfumed with the last splatters of hope, "If you're asking if we've fucked yet, Elain, then no, we haven't. Does that answer your question?"
Azriel's fingers moved to play with the ends of your hair, knowing that the sensation of slight tugging over your scalp relaxed you infinitely, "I only ask because I know how physical Azriel can be. Surely you've heard the stories?" Elain feigned innocence, Feyre sighed from her seat and glanced to you apologetically, silently begging you to not tear her sister apart.
In fact, you had heard the stories. Trying to ignore the gossip of the city was difficult considering how used you were to eavesdropping into certain conversations in the underworld. So, unfortunately, you had heard about Azriel's many lovers, and you'd be silly to not feel insecure of it, but you wouldn't let her see that. Ever.
Craning your neck to the side, you smiled, your iced gaze slicing into her and making Elain shrink under the weight of it, "With all due respect, which is none," you leaned to the side, accepting the goblet of wine that the house had presented to you in premature thanks for the forthcoming words you were about to utter, "Your existence gives me a headache, so please go and find somewhere else to be."
Rhys' eyes widened but he suppressed the smirk forming on his face, hiding his lips behind his fist and closing his eyes. Not even Feyre or Nesta spoke up over it, they clearly knew better than to challenge you. Cassian however didn't really care if Elain saw his joy at your words, he had been growing more tired each passing day of her pining affection toward his brother, and now he understood why Azriel had withdrawn further from the female over the last few weeks.
It was because of the unique female before their very eyes.
The middle sister went to open her mouth, to retort something that wouldn't even irk you, but Amren shushed her, halted the words in her throat and willed her to die with them, "Don't even try it," Amren served you more than her own court, finding a kindred spirit within you, and she would shame herself if she let Elain speak to you as if you were nothing.
Elain would never understand someone like you. She wasn't worthy of it anyway.
No one had ever tried to understand Amren, not really, they thought her too complicated to be worth it. As long as they brought her pretty jewels and respected her then there was little else to worry of in their eyes. But you, you had understood her instantly and had found a particular solace with her, like you were peering through a mirror and she was your reflection.
Sipping the potent liquid in your goblet, you bowed your head to her, quietly thanking your friend for halting the small spat before it escalated and ruined the evening entirely. Tonight was not about Elain and her fragile feelings, it was about showing the Inner Circle who now owned your heart.
So, the middle sister vacated the room feigning a migraine, and the aura instantly lifted. A soft smile formed on your lips when your eyes landed on your mate, your entire face relaxed; entwining your fingers with his, you blushed when he pressed his lips to your knuckles and dragged your index finger down his cheek.
The Inner Circle watched on, knowing that they had never seen Azriel so taken by anything. They feasted on the sight of his shadows purring through your hair, on your colliding smiles, and how your gentle words to one another were contained in an ornate bubble around your bodies.
As the evening continued, you found yourself quite enjoying their company, you sat bundled into Azriel's embrace, finding comfort in the arms that were wrapped around you whilst Cassian spewed war stories, bragging at his prowess.
"Not to brag," you began with a smirk, "But at least eight men have described me as 'terrifying', and two of them are in this room. Choke on that ego, Cassian."
Nesta's grin turned feline and excitement bubbled in the pit of her stomach. What she wouldn't give to spar with you, to have your legs wound around her and that tense gaze splitting her in half. From the whisperings of Prythian, it was very clear that you had done some rather diabolical things in order to obtain certain artifacts that had been locked away in your most prized and personal collection. So prized that its location was unknown. She could only imagine what trinkets you possessed, and the things you had witnessed.
"What about Azriel?!"
The Shadowsinger shrugged, his hand resting on your thigh and squeezing the flesh there, "I've only ever been entranced by my mate, Cassian," Azriel drawled, sipping the amber liquid swirling in his rocks glass like molten bronze, "It's you and Rhys who are afraid of her."
"If it's any consolation, I don't blame you."
Cassian frowned, turning to Nesta and asking, "Are you scared of her?"
"No," she answered a little too quickly, so quickly that you had quirked your brow at the sound, "I find y/n to be quite exciting."
"Exciting?" Cassian moved to Feyre and asked the same question, his manhood decaying when she too said that you didn't scare her, "Mor?"
The blonde who could not rival your beauty had always watched you from afar, and had always enjoyed how you made males squirm. Mor rose her glass to the stars and stated, "Bring every man you meet to their motherfucking knees, y/n."
"Amen to that," Amren tipped her glass in response, downing the rest of the thick red sap and finally feeling at home in the presence of her family thanks to you, and she eternally thanked the male sat beside you for being able to breathe some light into the storm cloud that was your mind.
"Mother above," Rhys grumbled, the women in his life uniting and itching to wreck havoc. The action of Rhys swiping his hand down his face, dragging the skin slightly toward in frustration, made a deep chuckle float from your lips, so serene that Nesta likened the sound to a siren call and found herself drawn to it. "Did I just make you laugh?" Rolling your eyes, you nodded at the High Lord who turned toward his mate, "This is the best day of my life," then back to you, "Does this mean that we're friends?"
Rhys waited expectantly, childlike orbs pleading to you with their innocence. You had no friends bar Amren and you were content with that. It meant that you only had one thing to lose. But as Azriel laid his hand on the small of your back, gaining your attention and giving you an expression of promise, the resolve of your solitude cracked, "Why not?"
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The door to the River House flew open, a sudden shrill chill soaring through the air from the wild winds battering against the city, no doubt spurred on by your fury.
Many months had passed, and in that time you had truly blossomed, sure you still wore the mask of the devil on your features in public, but when you were with the Inner Circle, a group of people you now proudly belonged to, that mask drifted away like ash in the autumn breeze; and when Azriel was beside you, it felt as though warmth and happiness was all that you ever knew.
Much to Elain's upset, you and Azriel had officially accepted the bond and had locked yourselves away for four weeks to make the most out of every single moment together, and Rhys had been understanding enough of the bond between you both to not drag your mate away on another mission. The bond between you and Azriel was something that Rhys had never seen before, not even between him and Feyre.
"She tastes like every dark thought I've ever had."
The ceremony itself had been astonishing.
The women of the Inner Circle had spent the better part of two days dressing your apartment for the occasion and Feyre had made it quite clear that the upcoming ceremony was going to make theirs look ridiculous in comparison. Rhys was split between jealousy and awe when he saw it.
No one had ever stepped into the apartment beside Amren and Azriel, he had decided to move into the apartment after your return from the four-week sabbatical at the cabin, it was as though you were gifting them with the last part of you, allowing them to see what they could never fathom.
Faelights were strewn across the ceiling, curling around the arched windows that displayed the golden valley of the city in a way Rhys had never been able to appreciate before; tucked between the vines of the lights was fresh foliage, an array of green hue ferns caressing fully blossomed white roses and pale blue peonies. Sprigs of cedar and rosemary had been wove between the foliage and flowers alongside splinters of sandalwood, filling the room with the physical aspects of your scents.
Only the Inner Circle had been invited, and as you were dressing in your room with Amren, you could hear Nesta whining of her foolish jealousy of having to watch Azriel marry you. Amren had simply raised a brow and smirked at you through the mirror as she finished securing your veil to the back of your head.
There was no one you would want to share the moment with other than her.
Amren had blindfolded you, leading you through the home so that the gift wouldn't be ruined just so that you could get ready together, for the most important and deserving night of your life.
The dress that you had meticulously chosen was the most incredible garment Amren had ever seen, so much so that the first time you had tried it on in front of her, she had nearly cried at the beauty of it; and there you now stood, twisting in the mirror and running your hands down the hem of your veil and then your hips. The dress was made entirely of white lace that you had imported from the Day Court, an off-the-shoulder neckline and sleeves that kissed your wrists, it was elegant and graceful, and made the freckles of your trauma glow like shooting stars.
A gentle knock had sounded at the door and Rhys stepped in, taking one look at you and finding his breath catching in his throat. "You look amazing," he breathed, approaching you with his hands deep within his pockets.
The High Lord had been honoured when you had sheepishly asked him to walk you down the aisle; Rhys had found himself consumed with the need to protect you, after seeing your guard disappear, he saw who you truly were, a woman who just wanted to be loved and protected, and ready to allow other people to do it for her after spending so long doing it herself.
"Are you ready?" Inhaling deeply, you nodded and turned to him, noting the outstretched hand before you and feeling your usual anxiety bubbling in your gut. Rhys, realising that he shouldn't have done something so bold, went to retreat but halted when you took a small step toward him, reaching your fingers out to his palm and sliding them into his grasp.
Azriel was right, your skin was a smooth as honey.
A gentle smile of triumph later, you spoke, "I'm ready."
It was that moment that Rhys was begging you to remember as you barrelled through his house, no doubt heading straight for him in the confinements of his office.
He could feel your anger slam through the walls, your footsteps sounding up the staircase and stopping at the top of the hall, a pause to remember just how much you liked him before stalking down the hall and bursting into his office. Rhys cringed, knowing what was coming as you strode to his desk and slapped your palms flat against the wood.
"If you ever," you pointed your perfectly manicured finger in his face, "Send my mate back to me in that state again. I. Will. Destroy. You."
The snarl of your words sent a shiver coursing down his spine, and in that moment you were the y/n he had met one-hundred years ago. Cold. Distant. Almost demonic.
In his defence, he hadn't sent Azriel on an overly dangerous mission, it wasn't his fault that his Spymaster was ambushed in The Middle. Azriel's spilled blood was entirely his own fault in Rhys' eyes, "I didn't mean for him to get hurt, y/n."
The rushed footsteps of another sounded in the hall, and when Rhys looked past your deeply heaving form, he was relieved beyond compare when he saw a bruised Azriel approaching, "Angel, it wasn't his fault. I was distracted," his voice grew louder as he paced closer to the pair of you, appearing at your side and turning your head in his fingers to face him, "I was thinking about you and I didn't hear them coming."
Watching your shoulders drop, Rhys sighed and wiped away an invisible bead of sweat from his brow, sitting back down and continuing his viewing just as you tilted your head to the side and popped out your bottom lip.
"You were?" Azriel's eyes softened and he dipped his gaze to meet yours, "That's the most romantic thing you've ever done. You were attacked because you were thinking about me, you actually bled because you were thinking about me?"
Rhys could only watch on perplexed at your words, you threw yourself into Azriel's arms, muttering small apologies for brushing against the bruises littering his abdomen, "She's crazy."
The Shadowsinger could only huff, too entrapped by you to really reprimand him, "Yeah," his eyes opened lazily, brimming with exhaustion, "But she's my crazy."
Azriel's shadows curled over your shoulders and shuddered, crying to be as close to you as possible, like they were trying to entwine with your soul so that you one day may carry them with you wherever you walked. In whatever world.
A bond like yours was made to topple temples and shatter worlds, it was made to transcend time and space; and as you wrapped an arm around your mate and led him from the office, not without sending one more warning glare to the male you had come to love as a brother, Rhys knew that no matter where either of you went, there would be no place that you could travel to where the other would not follow.
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Author’s Note
Hope you enjoy 👉🏼👈🏼
Let me know if you’d like to be added to my PERMANENT TAGLIST 🤍✨
Banners by the fabulous @tsunami-of-tears
Permanent Tags
@romantasyreader28
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brandileigh2003 · 2 months
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Wolfstar fluff recs:
Feel free to drop your fic or favorite in comments and I'll add it.
-candy crush by bizarrestars realizing you're in love, divergent post Hogwarts
-lazing on a sunday afternoon by peachyybabe domestic slice of life
-An Infinte Ocean by orphan_account raising teddy and sea turtles
-wading in waist-high water by colgatebluemintygel gbbo
-a lot of MsAlexWP
-The PB to my J by aqua_myosotis uni texting fic
-Beneath a Big Blue Sky by eyra Sirius and James come to work on the farm
-Basilisks, Boggarts and Boyfriends (oh my) by OptimisticDinosaur
-Till We Have Arrived Home Again prouvairing divergent raising harry
-Of Bookshelves and Baby Carriers poppunkpadfoot
-Found Heaven by fierrochase texting fic
-Chef was cute, would eat here again by her_smile_forges_galaxies
**Recs from @multiimoments **
-Ones I've read and enjoyed:
Honey if I'm Not by BrigidFaye (not 100% fluff but I agree when she said it counts 😁)
Like Real People Do by third_crow (same as above, so worth what's there)
Inked by Drunkonturpentine (light angst)
back when we were dinosaurs by epicblueblanket (new to me, reading soon)
That's My Moony by toofadedtofight (new to me, reading soon)
**recs from @klilyr
-Two Idiots Falling in Love in Winter by R33sesPieces
-one single thread of gold tied me to you by itsprettyunfortunate (new to me, reading soon)
@ m3ntal-hiatus rec'd this, I'll be reading soon: snapshots from a campground near mystic peak, alberta by eyra
--feel free to check it my main rec list
And a couple self recs bc I was told I should. Parks and Playdates, & Other Side of the Screen & through the years
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rustingcat · 6 months
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Here's a sketch from the fantastic fic One Single Thread of Gold by @autisticlenaluthor
I hope things will get better, darling. For now, I offer you this sketch:)
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thedarkestgreys · 10 months
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one single thread of gold
🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡
hbo euphoria // rated e // drabble collection
🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡ 🗝₊˚⊹♡
time, curious time, gave me no compasses, gave me no signs, were there clues i didn't see? and isn't it just so pretty to think, all along there was some invisible string, tying you to me? - invisible string by taylor swift
Chapter Dump Round 2:
discord
spies (part two)
aliens
back from the dead (part one)
happiest
no
grammys
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thatonebirdwrites · 2 months
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What are some of ur favorite supergirl fic recs(other than ur own which are great)?
Hi! Gosh, that's super kind to call my fics great. :) I appreciate it! Honestly, I have so many fics that I loved reading. I'm not sure which of these will fit your preferences, but here are some of my favorites (I list the following because they hit me hard in one way or another). These range from 1k to 300k.
Don't go slow cause you're gonna be someone by robie (Supercorp)
All of pcrtifacts fics, especially make this place your home
one single thread of gold by scrappylittlegleek and Fresh Pair of Eyes (Supercorp)
Darkness In All Things by fazedlight (Supercorp) (I honestly love all fazedlight's fics)
Privileges by rustingcat (I also go back to rustingcat's Of Science and Love) (Supercorp)
Lena's Space Log by mycatismyeditor (Supercorp)
sam's supercorptober 2023 by sssammich (Supercorp)
Hell was the journey (but it brought me heaven) by luthordamnvers (Supercorp)
You're in my blood, like holy wine by jazzfordshire and i want something just like this (Supercorp)
Captain Underpants by asamiontop (Supercorp)
Of Kisses and Kara by TheUnforgivingMinute (Supercorp)
The Shape of Soup by ekingston (Supercorp)
Permanence by itllsetyoufree (Supercorp)
let me be easy to love series by coffeeshib or lay with me (like a renaissance painting) (Supercorp)
See All the Marks of My Wounded Past by luthordamnvers and snowydragonscave (Supercorp)
Bury the Dead by thornedrose44 (Supercorp)
ties that bind by sten06 (Rojarias)
love actually by sten06 (Rojarias)
Inhabit by Laetare (Supercorp)
The Magic of Constellations series by snowydragonscave (Supercorp)
Attachments by texadian (Supercorp)
Archive of Her Own by spicycheese
and if you're still breathing, you're the lucky ones by AssumingMinds19 (past Reigncorp, Supercorp)
Meet the Superfriends by FondWeirdIntrovert (Supercorp, Brainia, Dansen)
The Arctic Station by Forage (Supercorp)
Trøllabundin by BigMammaLlama5 (Kara/Lena)
An Ocean of Fire by IcarusAndHerSun (Kara/Lena, Sam/Alex)
when dinosaurs ruled the earth by drsattlers (Kara/Lena)
come feel this magic i've been feeling since i met you by homosectional (Supercorp)
let all your damage damage me by searidings (Supercorp)
take my mask, i'm home now by Melui (Supercorp)
you’re my remedy by amnesiayourself (Kara/Lena)
Anyway, that's the tip of the iceberg. I struggle with choosing favorites, there's so many I loved reading. Honestly, the talent of supergirl fic writers is quite breathtaking.
But hopefully you'll enjoy a few of those!
Thanks for asking! :D
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beybaldes · 10 months
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one single thread of gold tied me to you
sejanus plinth x gn!reader
masterlist
summary: Sejanus Plinth sits on the steps of the academy with you by his side. Things may be bad, but there are worse places you could be
warnings: NO relation between reader and snow I might die if I see another fic where reader is his twin (not that they aren’t good fics, they are so good!!! I just don’t look like him at all 😭😭😭 free me), little angst but mostly fluff, ONE use of y/n, hehehehehe i posses evil powers
an: okay I know Ive not posted in like forever but I saw BOSBAS and fell in LOVE 🥲 technically spoilers and won’t be 100% book/movie accurate im going with straight vibes for this one :D enjoy!!
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Sejanus Plinth was never meant to cross your path, let alone take violent root in your heart. In every other universe he never left district two and you never bumped into him on the playground at 8 years old, wondering where on earth he must have come from. There wasn’t such a thing as a ‘new kid’ in the capital, and yet, you had found one.
Or rather, he’d found you. You’d been chasing Arachne Crane around the playground in a game of tag, too focused on trying to catch her and not focused enough on the tree root that stuck out of the ground in front of you. There’d been no time to react, but sweet, gentle, wonderful Sejanus Plinth had caught you by the arm, his grip so firm you’d had his fingerprints bruised into your skin for weeks after. But he’d saved you from scraping your knee against the ground, and he held you up until you’d steadied yourself, and then he’d walked away without a word. Arachne had disappeared from your sight and you were suddenly infatuated with the mass of brown curls that were walking to the far side of the playground; you felt as though you had no choice but to chase after him instead.
Shivering at the thought that in another life you’d befriended the likes of Felix Ravenstill or Festus Creed instead, you reached out for Sejanus’s hand between the tables the mentors were made to sit at to watch the games. Surprisingly, he was receptive to your touch, tightly interlocking your fingers and hoping it would provide him with more comfort then you both knew it ever could.
As Lucretius "Lucky" Flickerman, the capitals weatherman, began to introduce the game to viewers watching from the comfort of their homes, Sejanus’s grip on your hand only got tighter, his hands beginning to tremble slightly as the screen at the front of the grand room began to show the tributes entering the area. As images of the tributes being pushed, dragged and shoved into their starting places crossed the screen, your thumb ran across the back of his hand, hoping you could make the shaking of his clammy palm against yours stop.
Slowly the cameras in the arena moved their focus from the tributes waiting for the games to start, and instead zoomed in on Marcus, hung by his bloodied hands on the fallen debris caused by the rebel attack.
“Oh my God.” Gasping the words out, you couldn’t tear your eyes from the sight, and you would’ve held onto Sejanus’s hand tighter if you were still holding it. Instead his hand was torn from yours as he stood among the other mentors, flinging his desk and device across the room with a rage you’d never seen in him before.
“You’re monsters!” He cried, hands scrunched into fists by his side, tears filling his eyes as he addressed the room before him. Peers, Sejanus didn’t dare call them friends, and teachers alike stood in silence, refusing to feed into his outrage and refusing to speak against the regime they had been raised in. Though some of them had never known anything different then a life with the hunger games, it didn’t take anything more then a heart in your chest to know how wrong it was. Even if Sejanus hadn’t known Marcus from his time in district 2, he was the same age as him, he had a family and friends back home hoping he would return to them, he was a living, breathing person who shouldn’t have had to fight for his life because his name was drawn from a hat. “All of you!”
Sejanus stormed out of the room, and you would’ve been hot on his heels if Coriolanus hadn’t grabbed you, holding you to your seat. “Just wait.” You didn’t understand at first, furious that Coriolanus would try and stop you from going after Sejanus to see if he was okay, but as he silently pointed at Mr Flickerman, you understood. Following Sejanus should wait ten seconds while Lucky counted down to the official beginning of the Hunger games and you could sneak away unnoticed. While you were never particularly fond of Coriolanus Snow, you could appreciate his brain and how it ticked.
When the ten long seconds were finally up, you sprung from your seat, a whispered thank you to Coriolanus as you snuck around the outside of the seated mentors, all of whom were enamoured with the screen. As you left the building in search of Sejanus, you briefly worried he’d be nowhere to be found, having run far away from the academy in hope he could escape everything. However, he’d been quite easy to find, hunched over himself on the steps of the academy, his arms wrapped around his knees and curled into himself as his shoulders jumped with strained breaths. A part of you prayed you’d never have to see him like this again.
“Sejanus?” His head snapped to face you, furiously wiping away the frustrated tears that had rolled down his cheeks and forcing something that tried to be a smile on his face. A frown pulled on your lips as your met his eyes, quickly crossing the steps until you were beside him. “Oh, Sejanus.”
“Did you see what they did to him?” His voice trembled as he spoke, hiccuping in breathes as he tried to tell you what he was thinking, tried to nullify the crippling ache in his chest. With the escape of a whimper from the back of his throat, your hands came to cup his face, caressing his cheeks and simultaneously wiping away any tears that crossed your path. “What they’re doing to all of them?”
“I know, I know.” You cooed, knowing there was nothing you could do to change things. All you could do right now was make your Sejanus feel better, though you worried even your best wouldn’t be enough. “It is wrong and cruel, so, so cruel, and one day people will see just how right you are.”
“They won’t.” He scoffed, his eyes turning to stare at where his shoes met the ground, avoiding your gaze. “They think that this is life, that this is how things are. And no one else sees an issue with that, at least not here in the Capital.”
One of your hands turned Sejanus to face you, not allowing him to look away as you spoke, while the other fervently soothed his curls away from his face, hoping a combination of the two could begin to make him feel better.
“Thousands of people will have seen your outrage at the games tonight, and if even one of them has been affected by it, then you will have made a change.” Sejanus’s features softened as you spoke, and while you knew his boiling rage was only reducing to a simmer, and that at the end of the day it would still be inside of him, you knew that he was allowing himself to get through this moment with your help. “Rome was not built in one night. Change will come, it just takes time.”
Silence didn’t have the chance to settle. “Why are you so nice to me?” That surprised you. It didn’t seem like a question that needed answering and it didn’t seem like something Sejanus would ever ask you. It felt too obvious. “No one in the capital has ever accepted me as one of them, and yet, my own district won’t recognise me as theirs either. Most of the people at the academy don’t even acknowledge me, and sometimes I feel like Coryo only tolerates me, but you? You are nice to me, like now. You didn’t have to come out here, you chose to. Why?”
Strangely, you’d never been so scared. You couldn’t help but think that you’d said or done something to make Sejanus think that your friendship towards him was fake or conditional, but it couldn’t be further from it. How did you put into words how much you loved him for him, without saying it just like that? Plain and simple?
“You are kind, Sejanus. You don’t see a lot of that around here. From the very first day I met you you have been nothing but kind - not only to me but everyone around you, even when they didn’t deserve it.” Your hand against his hair had moved back down to his cheek, the gentle caress of your thumb against the apple of his cheek turning more and more loving with every word you spoke. “You bring your Ma’s sweets to share, even when they’re the ones you really like, you recite your favourite books to me just because you want to talk and you know I’ll listen, you stop me from going home with scrapped knees and grazed hands everyday, and-“
It was like you’d suddenly become dangerously aware of how close the two of you had got, not only physically on the steps of the academy, but in your friendship over the years. Maybe more then a friendship if either of you were brave enough to say it. You couldn’t breathe and you couldn’t think about anything but his lips against yours. Removing your hands from his face and placing them neatly in your lap, you tore your gaze from his face and looked to the sunsetting sky. “Sejanus plinth, it seems I have grown quite fond of you.”
Sejanus placed two fingers beneath your chin, turning your face to make you look at him, like you had done just minutes ago. “I have grown irreversibly fond of you, y/n y/l/n.”
As Sejanus leaned closer to you, and you tilted you head so your nose would slot perfectly against his, a crowd of mentors came out of the academy, causing the two of you to jump apart. Sejanus looked more disappointed than you think you’d be able to get him to admit, and he stood from the steps almost instantly. “I have to go.”
If you’d been any less dazed by the almost kiss shared between the two of you, you’d have chased after him once more, but you found yourself frozen on the steps of the academy. Sejanus was going to kiss you. Maybe, if you were lucky, you’d find the two of you in such a position once again and maybe that time your lips would actually meet.
A part of you is certain you don’t even know the boy exists in any other universe. And yet, you find that you would plead before the Gods themselves to have the fortune of knowing him in every one.
An: thank you for reading!! Would anyone want a part 2 about Sejanus going in to the arena and reader and Coriolanus teaming up to get him out? I might write it anyway lol but please give me feed back and let me know what you thought!! Mwah <333
part 2: I swam a lake of fire, I’d have walked across the floor of any sea out now!!
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piscesmoonpress · 6 months
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Art Heist, Baby! by otrtbs (@otrtbs)
When James Potter answers a mysterious ad in his local coffee shop, the last thing he expects is to be thrown into a world of white collar crime, but how can he resist when the mastermind behind the operation has dark hair and brooding eyes and promises wealth beyond James' wildest imagination? He would do anything for that boy named after a star, including stealing millions of dollars of fine art.
Pairing: Regulus Black/James Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, Marlene McKinnon/Dorcas Meadowes, Alice Longbottom/Frank Longbottom Fandom: Harry Potter
Disclaimer: otrtbs no longer allows binds of Art Heist, Baby!. This edition was first typeset and bound in May of 2023. Please do not use this post as a permission to bind Art Heist, Baby!.
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Art Heist, Baby! was one of the very first jegulus fics I read, and eventually became my second-ever bind. The original binding for this fic was done over the course of a single weekend, which makes me cringe a little now—but I am still so proud of this typeset and the bind itself, despite its flaws.
Half-Letter | 219,117 words | 609 pages
Title and Drop Cap Font: Bodoni 72 Body: Adobe Garamond Pro Accent(s): Gill Sans, Futura Condensed
Typset by me in Word.
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Designed by me in Illustrator.
Materials
Cover Bookcloth: Duo in Blue Jean HTV: Siser Brand in Gold Metal and Powder Blue Endbands: Mettler Silk Finish Thread Endpapers: Chiyogami Paper
Eventually, I found that the structure of my previous binding was less-than-ideal, and I decided to rebind my copy. Given that I couldn't change the typeset, I spent a lot of time deciding on a cover design, and eventually settled on using Ivan Aivazovsky's Ship on Stormy Seas (a painting synonymous with this fic) as inspiration.
The process of turning the boat from this painting into something that could be used with a single shade of HTV was difficult, but I eventually settled upon a design I was happy with after messing around in Illustrator for a couple weeks.
When I removed the cover from this bind, I also trimmed and painted the edges, sewed double-core french endbands (two-tone, to match the bookcloth), and reinforced the spine (though I couldn't do much for the pre-existing swell). Overall, I am thrilled with how it looks, and with how my original typeset fits with my more developed design style.
Thank you to Nat, for writing such a beautiful (and heart-wrenching) story. Art Heist, Baby! is free to read on ao3, here.
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ess-presso · 1 year
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chapter one - the good place au
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