#hazel's snippets

[aroaceleovaldez]

i have suddenly become obsessed with a theme that HoO established but never proceeded to extrapolate on, which is:

You are Percy Jackson, and you have been swapped with a boy who was allegedly everyone's favorite person, but they have decided to replace him with you. They just met you. You stand next to his best friend and the people he's known his entire life. In his home. In his cloak. In his place. They stopped looking for him.

You are Jason Grace, and you have just found out you have a long lost sister who completely replaced you in her life with this girl you just met. Your lives and personalities are mirrors. She is you, living the life you were robbed of.

You are Annabeth Chase, and you have just become starkly aware that you have been inhabiting the void left behind by your best friend's long lost brother. You and Luke were just replacements for him. Now you have to look him in the eyes when he has nothing and know you took that life from him.

You are Piper McLean, and you have just found out your relationship is fake and built entirely on the memories of Annabeth Chase. You have been given a boyfriend when hers has been taken away. You have no idea how much of it is real or not but regardless you feel like if your relationship isn't exactly in their image that you have failed.

You are Leo Valdez, and you have just learned that you are the echo of your great-grandfather. You are not your own person. You just exist to be a mirror of him. A doppelganger. An actor and stunt double facing all the danger he never had to but wearing his face. To be there for his best friend decades later simply because he couldn't. You are playing a role. A seventh wheel and a pawn for a goddess who carefully sculpted your entire life for her own purposes.

You are Hazel Levesque, and the only reason you are alive is because your brother couldn't save your his sister. You are a consolation prize. An apology. Your existence here is misplaced in every way but you inhabit it anyways.

You are Frank Zhang, and you are a shapeshifter. Inhabiting your own body feels strange and clumsy when you could be literally anything at any time. You are anything and everything and live your life with the simple certainty of knowing exactly how you will die.

[secretly-sayori]

Hiii!

My name is Saturn [see here!] and I go by he/it!

Some stuff I'm into!!

Post-Phone Panic 💕 [STRICTLY PLATONIC!]

I @softheartthrobs and @dokidoki-reblog [ddlc roleplay accounts!] if you'd like to go check them out!! They're connected, and based [mostly] on the side stories!

[Also, my fictionkin blogs are: @sunshineandrainclouds (Sayori) and @prestigious-poet (Monika)]

Current Vocal Stims: "Do not worry, pregnant spinosauraus. We will be nice and nice." / "Steve le poisson" / "If I win, I get uppies?" "If you win, I spare Odysseus." "If I... lose, I get uppies?" "Athena, I'm not picking you up, you're a grown adult."

Now, onto the usual stuff -

I am also an age regressor! My sideblog is @starshine-pup!

Genderfluid and ambiam on the aroace umbrella, as well as a xenogender hoarder!

Tags:

☆ミ rae!! - my best friend!! ♡

💚🖋, 🩵☁️, 💜📚, 🩷🧁 - Monika, Sayori, Yuri, and Natsuki in respective order :3

cg!yuri, cg!monika, cg!natsuki, cg!sayori - age regression posts including the girls as fictional caregivers

[association] - posts that aren't related to age regression but I apply to a regression character!

saturn's musings - my fanfictions!!

bits and bobbles - random posts

she doki doki on my literature till I club [favs] - exactly what it sounds like [fav ddlc stuff]

why's my club getting lit [snippets] - drabbles that come to mind in a flash

through hazel windows - posts about my inner child (not agere-related) or peeps into my real life

the vault [reblogs] - fav reblogs / posts that aren't mine

sometimes he arts - creative stuff [drawing ref., writing prompts, ect.]

rants. - my angry / general vents of sorts, i just hate calling them vents

he's learning! (nerd) - me actively learning how to mod DDLC and play comments while playing

▪︎ to be played! - mods I have on my to-do list or ones I need to check out!

( ´∀`) depiction diary - my daily [or want-to-be daily] diary of my day told in the five senses ^^

[husbandograveyard]

@blueflamebimbo told me to make a playlist for my fic and while I love the idea, I have been dreaming about it all day to come to the conclusion that my taste in music isn't all that varied, nor does it fit any of the moods I'm setting (ಡ‸ಡ)

[practically-an-x-man]

Sending you a no-pressure, take your time, I know you've got a lot going on ask for your take on Abi? *big grin*

Ooooh sure! Let's see what I can get put together...

____

Artie was in a funk. It had started when dislocating his shoulder meant he was benched from the day's mission, and there was no end in sight.

His mood brightened faintly when he finally saw Abi walking down the hallway towards him. There were tired bags under her eyes and her braid had come undone, but she was paradoxically light on her feet for the long day she must have had. She practically skipped towards him, dancing to some internal music, and damn if that didn't draw a smile from him despite the ache in his injured shoulder.

She slowed as she neared him, and tossed something from one hand to the other. It was roughly the size and shape of a billiards ball, clear glass with a splash of flowering blue in the center. Abi stopped in front of Artie, grinning up at him.

"Look at this." she said, holding the ball out to him for a closer look. He'd have bet it was once intended as a paperweight or some other decorative bauble. He'd have bet just as much that it was the artifact she'd liberated from the mission.

"Shouldn't that be down in processing?"

"I'm on my way," she replied, "But I wanted to have a little fun first. Do you know how hard it is to find an artifact in a pawn shop? I mean, name me one thing that couldn't be magically-inclined in a place like that."

"The owner." he fired back without missing a beat, and Abi chirped a bright, surprised laugh.

"Touché," she said, and gave the ball another casual toss, "Anyway. This thing's pretty neat. As long as you're touching it, everything you say has to be the absolute truth."

Her expression shifted, lighthearted spirit becoming a foxlike grin in an instant.

"Want to know what I really think of you?" she teased, and pressed on before he could get a word out, "I think you're a grumpy old man who needs to take things a little less seriously once in a while."

Artie frowned at the words. The stormcloud that had been hanging over his head all day only continued to darken, and he opened his mouth to protest. Abi got there first.

"But I also think you're incredibly handsome, genius-level intelligent, and pretty damn sweet when you put your mind to it. I love you dearly and I'm so glad I can share my life with you," she concluded, and then her seriousness shattered and she gave the ball one more flippant toss, "And I need to get this down to processing."

She flurried down the hall before he could stop her. Her words left him reeling, echoing over and over again in his head. It warmed him, even through the budding confusion over that whole situation.

He spied another agent further down the hall and sped up to meet him. Compliments aside, Artie had questions- and perhaps a few concerns. It wouldn't be the first time he'd run into Abi intoxicated by an artifact.

"Excuse me," he said, and the other agent turned to face him, "The artifact Abi was carrying, the glass ball, do you know-"

"Artifact? No, that's-" The man looked confused, and did a double-take down the hall before he continued. "The artifact we recovered was this antique grandfather clock- er, the pendulum inside it, technically. Made time slow down around it unless it was rebalanced every morning. It's already down in storage."

"Then what was the...?"

"Oh, that? Abi just picked that up for herself. Saw it on one of the shelves, said it was pretty. I think she was going to put it on her desk."

The agent walked away, leaving Artie twice as confused as he'd been before. Not an artifact. Just... Abi.

A smile crossed his face before he could stop it, and the stormclouds finally dissolved into clear skies.

Way to go, sunshine.

[blackbeeno3569]

Maybe it doesn't seem so but I am, actually, working on another page... At least some side story in meantime.

[curseofdelos]

2 & 6 for ask game !

2. Hazel & Nico in Tartarus AU

This is exactly what it says on the tin lol. Hazel and Nico fall into Tartarus instead of Percy and Annabeth at the end of MOA. Not much I can say here without giving away my secrets, but I have a lot of fun ideas for this one I'm excited to send off into the world <3 Also it's just really fun writing a Hazel POV fic <3

A snippet:

Hazel climbed to her feet, and looked around. The glass beach stretched inland around fifty yards, and then dropped off the edge of a cliff. She didn’t think she would be gone from the Argo II this long so she didn’t have any supplies, and they both lost their swords in the fall. Hazel concentrated on stygian iron and imperial gold, and managed to find Nico’s sword a short walk down the beach, but her precious cavalry sword was lost on the bottom of the Cocytus.  She had no weapon, no food or water, no nectar or ambrosia or unicorn draught. She was utterly defenceless.  Fuck. Hazel walked back to where Nico was still sitting on the ground and offered him his sword, but Nico waved her away. “You keep it.” Hazel blinked in surprise. “What?” “I hate to admit it, but… the jar took a lot out of me. My powers are weakened, and my reflexes are way too slow. Out of the two of us, you’re better equipped to fight right now, so you should be the one with the sword.”  Hazel couldn’t believe it. Nico loved his sword. It was one of the only belongings she ever saw him carry. “Are you sure you want to go through Tartarus without a weapon?” Nico let out a short, bitter laugh. “Of course I don’t, but the only way we’re going to survive down here is if we strategize and make sacrifices. Right now, you’re the better fighter, so you get the sword. I want it back when we’re done, though.” “Of course.”  Hazel certainly wasn’t going to complain about having a weapon, and especially having this weapon. Nico had allowed her to hold his sword before, although she had never used it in a fight. It thrummed with a power unlike any other weapon she had ever wielded. There was something about the stygian iron that made her feel strong, powerful. No wonder Nico never let it out of his sight. She wouldn’t either if her cavalry sword felt like this. 

6. 10 years later

This is one of the first fics I started writing for this fandom back before I started publishing stuff last October, but basically I wanted to explore what happens to Greek demigods after they leave CHB because I refuse to believe that they all just. die young. It was going to be an exes-to-loves solangelo fic focusing on them meeting again ten years after they left camp, while also exploring the lingering trauma they have from their time at camp, their relationships to their powers, their identities as demigods, and who they are now/want to be in the future <3

Not going to go into too much detail because while I don't see myself finishing this particular fic, I do like the ideas and their dynamic still so I might recycle them for a different fic in the future, we'll see what happens lol

A snippet:

Will dropped the pillow from his face. “Yeah, another rejection.” He sighed, leaning back into the couch-part and stretching his legs out across the bed-part. “Apparently someone else got there first, and the landlord already accepted them, so it’s back to the drawing board I guess.” Austin smiled. “You’ll find somewhere. There’s plenty of real estate in New York.” “I know. I just feel bad for mooching off of y’all for so long.” Kayla emerged from the kitchen with two bowls of cereal and plopped down onto the couch-bed next to Will. “Yeah, it’s such a tragedy that we have to split our rent three ways instead of two,” she drawled, handing one of the bowls to him. “Please, Will. Leave soon so we can go back to paying more rent!” Will rolled his eyes as he accepted the bowl. “Do you have to eat that here? I don’t want your crumbs on my bed.” “You’re eating here!” “Yeah, but I don’t care if I get crumbs on my bed.” Kayla shoved his shoulder, but made no effort to get up, and instead made a show of settling in. “You’re not the boss of me anymore, Solace. My apartment, my rules.” She looked Will right in the eye and took a big, slow spoonful of her cereal.  “Also my apartment,” Austin added, watching them bicker in amusement as he ate as if they were some sort of dinner entertainment. “Seriously though. We don’t mind you staying here. It’s kind of like being back at camp again. It’s nice.”

[pinestripe37]

If you’re still doing the WIP sentence ask game:

Blue, wind, sigh, eyes, and tree!

Thank you for the words, my friend! :D

Yup, still doing it and honestly feel free to send in words whenever. Lol I don't mind even if I'm not. 😅

Gonna post large-ish paragraphs for you because why not :D Also putting two snippets for a few of the words!

"A green fly and a blue fly are eating a piece of dirt together," Mistkit described the scene from where she lay watching the two shiny creatures. Her littermates exchanged disturbed glances. "That's.. uh.. interesting, Mistkit." Frostkit replied warily, seeming to force her whiskers to twitch in a gesture of cautious amusement. "That's disgusting," Graykit's flat mew cut in. Mistkit purred, no longer feeling bothered or left out as her siblings shared the carp near by but content to just be near them, listening to the purrs of exasperation and amusement that drifted into chatter. She took another glance at the flies, thinking that honestly, no matter what Graykit may say, the peaceful and close coexistence between the two insects was really rather sweet. She looked up. "They remind me of us," she purred. "That's it," Frostkit stood up abruptly, dropping her prey with a swish of her tail, "I'm not hungry anymore." Mistkit watched her stalk off to the medicine den before exchanging a glance with Graykit. "I don't blame her," he huffed.

~~~

A flurry of oak leaves outside the window. The wind lets them flutter inside. One lands on your desk across me… and I'm grateful for the company. But the sight of a leaf makes me somehow mourn them… Despite one being right within my reach.

"Maybe it's the way we used to chase them, and paste them to a board for a collage. We'd write on them the things for which we're grateful. Your list of blessings always beautifully large. I think it taught me how to thank the Lord genuinely. And if I made another I'd be sure to write you in."

I reach for the leaf as I figure it's never too late, and trail my pen across it, spelling out her name.

~~~

"I'm here for it," Olivia purred with a half-grin before holding me close with a sigh, "..I'm here for you."

~~~

The small cat then sighed. "I'm just saying we can care for each other regardless of clan of circumstance…" she glanced softly at Berryheart. "The way I'm not ShadowClan, nor you a WindClan cat, and yet it's my responsibility to be here for you now." "Your responsibility?" Berryheart scoffed. "Dragging herbs for a despised exile who wants nothing more than to have you out of her sight? I struggle to see how this waste of time contributes to your clan loyalty." "This has nothing to do with clan loyalty." Whistlepaw returned with a glance upward, "This has to do with a loyalty far higher. And it's never, ever a waste of time. May I look at your wound again?"

~~~

Hazel wasn't in the room as I opened my eyes, and I knew my friend was baking. Chocolate chip cookie scents wafted from the kitchen along with the soft sound of my friend humming the tune of a hymn.

~~~

As Mistpaw and Whistlepaw arrived near the Windclan camp they were met by a group consisting mostly of Whistlepaw's family, as well as the two ThunderClan cats. Mistpaw was surprised to see Appleshine among them, dashing up at Myrtlebloom's side. "Are you  two alright?" Oatclaw's mew was firm but his amber eyes revealed warm relief as he gazed at his daughter for a moment before the younger warriors pushed past from behind him and Featherpelt. "We were so concerned about you!" Fernstripe gasped out, her quietness sounding forgotten and brushed aside by emotion as her squeaky yowl trembled. Placing a tail-tip on the frantic she-cat's shoulder, Appleshine nodded beside her. "We've been praying for you," the ginger tabby added.

~~~

With a cold night wind blowing at my wool, the howl of wolves echoing beyond the trees, I angled my ears, listening to instead hear my Shepherd's soft hum.

"I will both lie down and sleep in peace…" With a sigh I settled down and tucked my legs beneath myself, breathing in gratefully as I leaned my weary head against His lap. "For You alone, O my Shepherd, make me dwell in safety."

[clumsyclifford]

hi bella!!!! i feel like it's been a while since i've been here this is crazy. anyway does happy or blush appear in your wip? -hazel

what's UP hazel maybe it has been a hot minute but i guarantee you both of those do appear just give me a moment to do a search

happy from 5sos doc A (9 results, surprisingly less than i anticipated)

“You’re full of shit,” Ashton informs Calum, a silly smile on his face. But it grows a little, warming up, and he adds earnestly, “I’m really glad you’re on our team this summer. I’m happy I met you.”

doesn't appear in 5sos doc B, which is. maybe says something about that fic plot. or probably just says that i definitely havent written enough of it lmao

happy from teen wolf doc (14 results!)

Scott shakes his head. “Stiles, what’s going on with you?” “Why do you think something is going on?” “Well, you’re…” Scott gestures, but can’t bring himself to finish the sentence the way he means to. Happy. Energetic. A lot like old Stiles.

blush from 5sos doc A (7 results, again surprisingly low)

Luke laughs. A blush colors his cheeks. “Stop complimenting me. You’re not being very convincing about not trying to seduce me.”

blush from 5sos doc B

Luke ponders this. "I guess so." He finishes his first mac and cheese and Michael swaps it out for the other one, fresh out of the microwave. Luke looks gratefully up at him. "Would you come with me?" Michael swallows. "Uh…" "I don't know anyone else and I don't know where anything is," Luke says, blushing. "But never mind. Sorry."

amazingly blush is nowhere in my teen wolf doc. my docs are surprising me left and right today huh

send me a word and i’ll search for it in my WIP!

[daycourtofficial]

Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one - part three

Pairing: Eris x reader x Azriel | WC: 3.3k | warnings: general angst, some violence

Summary: after a week of avoiding talking to him, Azriel invites you out for a meeting that only leaves you with a more urgent sense of jealousy

Author’s note: happy new year’s eve!! I know it hasn’t been too long since the last part, but I wanted to spread some holiday joy! This year has been awful but my time online and the friends I’ve met through here have been so lovely and kind and you guys have gotten me through a lot do here’s some pain!

Last part | Next part | Masterlist

Your conversation with Nesta left you reeling, some deep part of you rattled at her words. A deep loneliness settled in you after she left, a swirling storm of anger and jealousy threatening to fester into a hurricane out on the balcony.

‘He’s a challenge on his best days.’

Why had the Mother given her most loyal follower a mate who was so difficult? Weren’t mates supposed to be a blessing?

Rhys and Feyre, Nesta and Cassian - they all had their own fair share of turbulence. You remembered the stories from Mor about Feyre throwing her shoes at Rhysand, or Nesta’s seemingly complete apathy around Cassian.

The journals left you confused, both smitten and giddy and a deep questioning of should it be this hard? Azriel and Eris had already seen the worst of each other and still chose and defended their bond. Would the same be said of you if Azriel saw your faults? Or would one flawed mate be enough for him?

Would another fae be able to look past your status as a second choice? Would you be able to even look at other fae if Azriel rejected you?

It had only been a few weeks since the bond had snapped for you, but in that time you didn’t notice other fae. They were just background characters, no one in particular ever catching your notice.

Except Eris. That was nothing though - merely Azriel’s feelings about him swirling within you.

None of it made any sense, your body subconsciously leaving the balcony and moving to find Azriel, repeating to yourself that an answer laid in one of his journals. You stopped by your room to gather the journal before following the bond to find the shadowsinger alone in the library. He looked incredible - his large wings stretched out over the black leather, the definition of his body evident through his loose fitting clothes. He was hunched over a small table, flipping through a book and jotting things down on the paper next to him. All your time spent reading this past week made his handwriting a familiar sight.

“Hi Az.” You stopped before him, presenting him with your most recently finished journal. This one had contained much the same - fighting between Eris and Azriel, occasional snippets about Cassian and his drunken antics. It seemed Eris and Azriel were in a constant cycle of never getting too close, one or the other always finding some fault to keep their distance.

He accepted it wordlessly, the replacement journal ready in his lap. How you hadn’t noticed it says more about the focus of your attention than you would like.

“Expecting me?”

“You usually find me around this time.” He huffed, the slight smile on his face enough to know he’s being light hearted. You took the new journal, about to turn on your heel when you spotted the empty chair next to Azriel. You waited a moment, turning back to find him still looking at you. Your chest felt tight with vulnerability, looking back to the empty chair, something inside of you begging to sit in his presence.

It felt like a good sign finding him in the open. You usually found him in his room, his door closed in front of you once the exchange was made. But now he sat on display, his own work spread out before him. You weren’t certain you had ever seen him work so openly.

You took the sign as an invitation, sitting in a chair opposite him, the spine a harsh crack in the silent room. He did nothing more than watch, hazel eyes tracking the delicacy and respect you showed to the journal before looking back to his own notes.

It was silent save for the turning of pages and his scrawling. It felt so warm being in his presence, sharing this time with him. It was so easy to get lost in it that the next time you looked up you realized he had pulled out a fresh journal, scribbling away in it. It was a cleaner version of the one you spent every night hunched over, staying up until the last word was comprehensible to your sleep-addled brain.

“Have you ever done that in front of someone before?” You croaked the words out, throat dry from your lack of water in hours, too afraid if you got up, your return would show an empty room.

“No, I haven’t.” His scrawl hadn’t stopped, and you straightened up, trying to catch a glance of what he was writing, if your name made an appearance. Shadows swirled at the top of his journal, obscuring your vision. You looked at the shadow, a cross expression trying to threaten them. They only seemed to dance more rapidly, in agitation or preening beneath your gaze, you weren’t sure.

“None of that.”

You sank back deflated, surprised you were caught. Picking up the journal once more, you flicked to the page you had left off at, settling back in.

“You’ll see this one soon enough.” The book snapped shut at his words as you readjusted to sit back up.

“I will?” Azriel only nodded, finally looking up at you instead of the pages of his journal. His eyes darted around the room before a shadow curled around his ear. Whatever the shadow told him, he relaxed a little, his posture easing into his seated position.

“I gave them to you to understand Eris and I’s relationship. But I think it’s impossible to figure out this situation without getting completely up to date.”

You nearly salivated at the thought of Azriel’s present journals. To know what he’s thought about you this whole time, in his own words, even without knowing about the bond? Priceless.

He had said he had been interested in you, drawn to you.

Azriel smiled, a soft pulsing of the thread around your heart. Tonight had been a step forward - you didn’t want to push your luck and find out if he was pulling the cord tight in reassurance or suffocation. You kept the question to yourself, nestling into the chair and the comfort of Azriel’s scent.

-

Mindless chatter moved across the breakfast table, your eyes constantly flickering to Azriel. It was impossible to keep them off of him, his emotions roiling in your chest kept you up half the night once you had retired from the library. You had been avoiding him for a week now, and the hours spent in his company reminded you of just how nice it was to linger in his presence.

This past week had been an anomaly, one you weren’t certain your friends had noticed or not. Azriel was usually a source of company at some point during your day - a meal, transportation, or just someone to go out walking Velaris with you.

If this past week showed you anything, it was how ingrained into your daily life Azriel had become.

You looked at him again, your eyes lingering on the lack of sleep beneath his eyes. He was tired. You couldn’t pinpoint it exactly- it wasn’t in his face or in his movements. Was it the bond? Was it your late night insomnia that kept him up?

Could mating bonds do that?

“Azriel, what time are you leaving?” Rhys’s question brought you from your focused gaze, waiting to hear Azriel’s response. So focused on Azriel, you hadn’t bothered pretending to even eat or notice Cassian’s glances to his own mate.

“I’m leaving in the afternoon.” Azriel’s head turned to you, his hazel eyes capturing yours in a gaze you couldn’t look away from. Where was he going? You had been so wrapped up in your thoughts you had missed the beginning of the discussion.

“I think it would be better if you came with me.” The table had turned quiet, the clattering of cutlery pausing for just a moment, all eyes slowly directed your way, waiting for your response.

So they’ve noticed this weirdness between you two.

“Are you sure, Az?” Azriel didn’t look away from you at Rhysand’s question, merely waiting for your response. Something in you was drawn to his gaze, wanting to linger in it for the rest of your days. His eyes held such softness, a look he reserved just for you.

And his other mate. The bitter thought made you grimace. Azriel and Eris had something real, something tangible that they fought for every single day.

But surely the moments in the library were also real. Not as intense or passionate, but full of a warmth you had hardly experienced before, a domesticity many would dream about.

“Yes, I will. Where are we going?”

Azriel was quick to answer, one of his shadows nearly muffling Rhysand’s voice so Azriel could be the one to respond.

“I have a meeting with Eris.” You were too focused on Azriel’s face to notice Nesta’s eyes widen imperceptibly on the other side of the table.

-

Your fingers tapped against your thigh, an anxiety coursing through you at the thought of seeing Eris again. He was something - a sharp face, even sharper tongue, decadently dressed. You hated to admit it, but you could understand why the Mother had mated him to Azriel - the two were quite possibly the most gorgeous fae in all of Prythian.

You had stayed up late again pouring over Azriel’s journals. Each notebook left you more and more territorial over him, romance pouring through every page. It was so different from the books Nesta read - the fictitious couple having grandiose gestures, no depiction of how the day to day worked.

But Azriel’s notebook was filled with longing for Eris. Recaps of long conversations they have had, almost word for word detailings of what they spoke about.

They had been together for a little over a century by now. They both fought it - Azriel all but withdrew from his family, avoiding them for over a year while he figured it out.

It took nearly a decade for them to come to terms with it - one of them never quite ready to dive in, both playing the hesitant role at different points.

It seemed one day Eris just snapped. Tired of talking in circles and exhausting every avenue, he went for it. He kissed Azriel and it spiraled from there, consummating the bond. It was a romantic tale of longing and distance and overcoming any and all odds for each other.

A story you had no business playing a part in.

Azriel pulled you from your thoughts, reaching out a hand to winnow the pair of you away. You took it, remembering all too well the last time you were gathered in his arms.

You both rematerialized in a densely packed forest, the trees so close together it was difficult to move between. You steadied yourself against Azriel, hands pressed to his broad chest. Winnowing yourself anywhere wasn’t an issue, but someone else winnowing you left you unmoored, your feet unable to find solid ground for a few seconds. The bond tightened around your heart, the beat of it speeding up at the contact.

“Come to gloat?” Your head whipped towards Eris as you yanked your hands from Azriel’s chest. You didn’t notice Azriel bringing his hands back up, reaching for you, trying to keep you close.

But Eris did. He schooled his features, looking toward Azriel with hardened eyes.

“No, I brought her so we can figure this out.”

Eris scoffed, the sound loud enough to be heard over the bird song high above the group. He stomped forward in a direct path towards Azriel, a trail of smoke in his wake.

His long red hair flowed behind him as he moved, reflecting the light of the sun so beautifully the homes of the Autumn Court could be full of portraits of the male before you and his beauty would still surprise. Your heart hammered in your chest, unable to look away from him.

“I’m sure that’s exactly what you’ve been up to this past week. Trying to figure this out with her, shutting off your bond to me.” The last words came out as a whisper, the underlying accusation one Eris couldn’t bear to say. He looked almost hurt as he said it.

“Er-“ Eris cut Azriel off, pushing his back into a tree, his hands curling into the leathers. Your feet followed the action, a hot sense of protectiveness overcoming you.

“No, Azriel. You don’t get to play house with her and show up here with her.”

“She can hear you, ya know.” You pushed Eris off of Azriel, the male staggering back in shock at your actions.

“How sweet. What a waste of my time to be here if you’re going to tell me you’ve finally picked someone else when you’ve had a century to do so.”

Azriel reached out for Eris, his grip tight around Eris’s forearm. Eris tried to push Azriel away from him, but his hand remained around Eris. He pulled the redhead closer, his thumb slowly stroking over his mate’s skin. It felt so intimate you wanted to look away.

“Eris, I am not picking her. I am trying to figure this out.” Azriel’s words stung, no matter how pragmatic they were. A teeny, tiny part of you wanted to blurt out to Eris about the journals, certain it would send the Autumn male out of your life for good. The action stayed in your mind at the betrayal Azriel would feel.

Some part of you knew something so hurtful would end in Azriel having no mates.

“‘Figure this out’? What is there to figure out? Which one of us you would pick?”

“No!” Azriel’s rebuttal was frantic, his lack of sleep more prominent now in the sunlight. It didn’t stop the sun from highlighting how gorgeous his brown skin was, though. “Can’t you think past your own self for five minutes and realize my soul, my entire being is connected to the both of you?”

The words did something to Eris, causing him to finally look at you. You couldn’t help the heat rushing to your cheeks beneath his gaze, a small part of you hoping he finds something interesting. You straightened, taking the time to look over him as well. It was nearly unfair how good he looked in his riding clothes. His shirt opened just enough to see his collarbone and the top of his sternum, his pale chest decorated with freckles. His loose, billowy shirt tucked into some well fitting trousers, thighs nearly ripping the fabric.

He wasn’t as big as Azriel - a bit shorter and not nearly as broad, but he was lean and strong, and you were certain they both threw each other around the bedroom with ease.

“I suppose severing this bond would mean lifelong consequences for you.” Eris spoke to Azriel, but kept his gaze on you as he walked toward you. Heat crept up your body the closer he got, each step raising the temperature by ten degrees. It was nearly unbearable by the time he stood in front of you, so close you had to look up at him.

Eris’s anger made him more beautiful - the sharpness of his face poised and ready for attack, the red shades of anger perfectly matching his skin and hair.

Heat coursed around your neck, the flames dancing across your skin. You were enraptured with Eris, this moment only for the two of you. You could hear Azriel start to object, but paid him no notice, your full attention on Eris.

“I could end it all now, remove the most painful thorn in my side you’ve been.”

You smiled up at him, overcome with a new feeling of competition. The flames around your neck tightened, but you kept on, stepping infinitesimally closer to Eris.

“If my mere existence is a pain to you now, just wait until I’ve decided you’re worth the effort to bother. You’ve only known me for a week and already I’m worth your ire.”

“Go home to Velaris. Go be a small town healer and find a small town male for you to fake your orgasms with.”

Your jaw dropped and you felt Azriel’s hands wrap around your upper arms, trying to pull you back, but you rooted yourself to the ground, pulling from his grasp.

“At least my constituents will look me in the eye out of respect and not fear. At least my patients know I had to work for my job and that I wasn’t given it because of my father!”

The flames were choking now, your breaths coming in hard and shallow. You were trying to fight it, to win whatever this was, but breathing harder and harder, fresh air a luxury you couldn’t remember.

“Eris!” Azriel all but growled as he wrapped his arms around your torso, pulling you into him. You reached up, trying to pull the collar off, tried to get any air, but it was impossible.

“The Mother is absurd for mating Azriel with someone so foolish who speaks of things she knows nothing about.” Eris relinquished his power as you sagged into Azriel’s arms, but Eris cupped a hand around your jaw. His eyes burned with fury and something you couldn’t quite make out, the amber color replaced with the blown pupils of his ire.

“Az, come back to me when you’ve decided the bitch isn’t worth your time.”

Chest heaving, you squared your jaw, a rebuttal on your tongue, but Eris had turned, walking into the trees before disappearing completely into them.

He was everything Nesta had warned you he was. He was cruel, difficult, and maddening.

And if the Mother wanted Azriel to pick one of you, you would do whatever it took to beat out Eris Vanserra for Azriel’s affections.

You’re stuck so deep in your head, you don’t even notice Azriel winnow the two of you back to the House of Wind, the two of you landing in the dining room. You turned to ask him about Eris, to talk to him about how ridiculous his mate was, but Azriel had dropped your arm, winnowing away immediately after. Your hand instinctively reached out for the shadows, but it was too late.

He was gone and he left you here.

You sighed, not knowing what you expected him to do. Coddle you? Tell you Eris didn’t mean his threats? Tell you Eris is a big meanie head?

You shook the thought away, your steps soft as you made your way through the house, a journal calling your name to pour through.

Your adrenaline was wearing off, the grime of the forest stuck to your clothes making the bathtub’s siren song call to you from many rooms away.

“How was your meeting with Eris?” Nesta’s voice found you as you were about to climb the stairs, one foot raised. You spun on your heel to look at her, her face indecipherable. Just his name filled you with anger and confusion once more. How was it him that had received Azriel’s affections?

“He’s worse than you made him seem. Vile and cruel, just like everyone says.” You spat the words at her, not receiving the reaction you wanted from her. Nesta only raised her eyebrows as her nose twitched.

“Are you sure?” Your anger had flared too much to notice her strange tone or the look in her eye.

“I’m positively certain. Anyone having to spend time with that awful, awful male is a saint or somehow even worse than he is.”

She approached you, her eyes lingering on your neck. You weren’t certain if you had scorch marks or not, unsure if Eris’s wickedness scarred. She was quiet as she looked at you, eyes of silver intense as they locked onto yours. You weren’t sure if she found what she was looking for or not before she brushed past you to go to her own chambers, her words quiet in the stillness of the house.

“If you say so.”

Divider by @tsunami-of-tears

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[nixmori]

It all started when we spent some time together in the memorial gardens.

She startled as the flat of his hand brushed against her arm. Time froze as she looked up into his soft hazel eyes while his long, slender fingers wrapped lightly around her wrist, trailing down to grasp her hand. Her heart threatened to burst as he lifted her hand to his lips.

I had wanted to write a full fic around this to share it with, but who knows when that will happen! So I’ve decided to share it as is, with just a little snippet of what could have been.

I really enjoy expression/hand journey in visual storytelling, so I hope the feelings I intended come through here even without text.

[velarisnightsky444]

Accepting the Bond*

Azriel x Rhysand's Sister!OC

AN: This is a snippet from my Stargirl fanfiction. OC is Rhysand's sister, and she's accepting the mating bond with Azriel.

CW: Fingering, oral, intercourse, brief allusion to past SA(not super obvious if you haven't read the fic)

Word Count: 2.3k

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

    Rhys got everybody out of the house early the next day, and I got to work on dinner. Steak, mashed potatoes, asparagus, and roasted carrots, plus a nice dessert of chocolate torte. It was the first real meal he had ever had. The first meal my mother had made for him when he came to live with us.

     Through the years, he would ask for it on every birthday. My mother and I would make it together.

       When I had finished cooking and baking the dessert, I set it all out on the table. I lit a few candles, and put a vase of flowers in the center.

     I took a deep breath, studying my work, then sent the okay to my brother's mind. Nerves settled in my stomach.

     I was wearing a cobalt blue dress, one that sparkled in the light. The bodice was tight to my skin, and the sleeves were sheer and loose. The skirt was loose, but didn't poof out too far. There was a slit in the skirt up my thigh. Underneath, I was wearing a blue set of lingerie that Mor had gone shopping for with me.

     After a few moments, the door opened. He must have winnowed to get here so fast. I took a grounding breath, trying to calm my heart rate.

      When he entered the room, I could feel the string in my chest go taut. He looked more handsome than I'd ever seen him. His curls were tamed, but still perfect. And his eyes . . . I'd always loved those hazel eyes. He wore a lovely suit, which made me think Rhys had instructed him to dress nicely. That likely gave me away. His shadows clung to him, but a few swirled over to me. 

"Hi, Azzy," I greeted quietly, a soft smile on my face.

"You . . . you look . . . " he was at a loss of words as he took me in, his eyes looking me up and down, then studying my face. "Breathtaking." The word was barely a whisper. A blush tinted my cheeks.

"Thank you," I uttered. "You look quite handsome, yourself." He glanced down at the table, looking at the food.

"Does this mean--"

"I accept the bond," I cut him off. "Yes."

      An expression of disbelief twisted his features for only a second, before tears began welling in his hazel eyes.

      He rushed towards me, and I could only laugh as he scooped me up and spun me around. I clutched onto him, squeezing him tight. When he set me back on the ground, I planted a kiss on his lips. He held my face in his hands, kissing me back. 

     When he pulled away, he got to his knees in front of me, hands gripping the backs of my thighs. I reached out, running my hand through his curls, and wiping his tears with the other.

"Evie, I swear I will never lie to you again. And I will never, ever, keep anything from you," he promised me. "And I swear to protect and love you for the rest of our lives. I will never let anyone lay a violent hand on you ever again."

     The thought of being protected and loved by him, forever, made my heart leap in my chest. To be with someone that I trusted--that I loved. It seemed too good to be true.

      Tears began to sprout in my own eyes as I stared down at my beautiful mate. He got to his feet, and held me close, kissing the tears away from my eyes. His shadows twisted around me, doting on me in excitement.

"Shall we eat?" I asked him. He nodded, smiling as he sat down at the table.

      I took his plate and shoveled some food onto it, then filled a glass of wine for him. I set it in front of him and sat across from him, serving myself next.

      The two of us ate in a comfortable silence, one of his hands reaching across the table to rest on top of mine. We seemed to be eating fast so that we could get upstairs sooner than later.

      But we ate dessert, nonetheless. The chocolate torte I made was absolutely delicious, if I did say so myself. It reminded me of my mother's. Though, I had followed her recipe.

      When we were done, I got to my feet and sat myself onto his lap, kissing him again. His tongue slipped into my mouth, massaging my own. One of his hands traveled down to grope my breast, and I moaned into his mouth.

      I whined as he pulled away, brushing my hair out of my face. I had wanted him for a very long time, but right now, it felt as though I needed him. If I didn't have him right now, I would die.

"Let's go upstairs," he suggested.

     I nodded eagerly, squealing as he got to his feet with me still in his arms, carrying me bridal style. I wrapped my wings tight around myself as he carried me up the stairs.

      He dropped me onto his silk, deep blue sheets, and climbed on top of me, his lips finding my neck. I moaned, my hands intertwining with his curls as he sucked, bit, and kissed up the tender skin. His shadows settled around me, stroking different parts of my body.

"I love you so much," I whimpered as he absolutely ravaged me. He pulled back, hovering above me, his eyes meeting mine.

"I love you, too," he whispered. "My beautiful mate." His lips met mine again.

      I began clawing at his shirt, trying to undo the buttons around his wings, but struggling. Eventually, I huffed in frustration against his lips, and used my magic to make his shirt disappear. His hand began trailing up the inside of my thigh, and I gasped, my back arching.

       I sat up so he could unzip the back of my dress. I lifted my hips so that he could pull it off of me, leaving me in the lingerie set that I had bought. His pupils were blown from arousal as he took me in.

"You look so gorgeous in my color," he grunted, eyes trailing up and down my body.

"Is this your color?" I teased with a smirk. "I just bought it because I thought it was pretty."

     He snarled, clearly not in the mood for my taunts, and yanked the bra of the set off to reveal my breasts. His finger circled my nipple, making my back arch off of the bed as I whined.

"No whining," he reminded me. He'd always hated my whining, even when we were kids.

     He leaned down, his lips closing around the nipple. I gasped as he licked and sucked at it, his hand groping and kneading my other breast. A few shadows whirled around the delicate skin.

"Az," I sighed in pleasure, squeezing my eyes shut. He glanced up at me, a smirk on his lips. His hand trailed down my side, resting on my hip. I bucked my hips desperately, letting him know exactly where I wanted him.

"Use your words, my love," he instructed.

"Please touch me, Az," I begged, my words a hushed whisper.

"Good girl," he praised, the words sparking more arousal through me. He smirked as he sensed it. "You like being praised?" I nodded, whimpering as he began circling my nipple again. "I'll remember that."

      His scarred finger began trailing up and down my core, over the lingerie. I gasped, throwing my head back at the sensation. I couldn't remember the last time I had been touched like that--so delicately.

       He carefully pulled the lingerie down, lifting my hips to get it off of me. When I was left bare beneath him, he took a few seconds to take me in.

"So perfect," he uttered, causing a blush to stain my cheek.

       He swiped a finger over my clit, making an indelicate moan fall from my lips. I would've been embarrassed had he not been causing me so much pleasure. He pressed down with the perfect amount of pressure, circling it with his thumb.

"So good, Az," I mewled, bucking my hips. He held them down with his other hand. "Want them inside, please."

"Whatever you want, baby," he agreed.

     His fingers swirled around my entrance. He sunk two fingers inside me and I gasped, grinding my hips. They felt so different than any other fingers I'd had inside of me. The texture from his scars made the sensation so much more pleasurable.

"Gods, Az," I moaned, clutching onto him. "Your scars feel so fucking good."

      He blushed, and I almost felt shame for letting the words slip out, but a shy smile settled on his face.

      He leaned down, licking a stripe up my core as his fingers continued drilling into me. I cried out, my hands gripping his hair and pushing his face closer. His lips locked around my clit, sucking with the perfect amount of pressure.

"Oh, Az, keep doing that," I begged, grinding against his face and hands.

        I was getting close, and he could sense it. He began sucking just a bit harder, his fingers moving faster.

       I let out a cry as I got right to the edge, then fell over as his fingers angled themselves perfectly. My moans were loud, and undignified as I climaxed on his fingers and mouth.

      He kept sucking my clit and fucking me with his fingers until I was shuddering from overstimulation.

      Then, he pulled away and crawled up to kiss me again. I could taste my release on his lips and tongue. I began to grope the bulge in his pants, desperate for him to be inside of me. He started to unbuckle his belt, and when he was done, I had no patience left. It felt as though he was taking them off slowly on purpose.

     I waved a hand, and his pants were gone, just as I had done with his shirt. I nearly moaned at the sight in front of me. His body was beyond perfect. And his cock . . . I wasn't even sure if it would fit inside me.

"Az . . . " I said nervously.

"If it's too much, we'll take it slow," he promised me, stroking my cheek.

       I pursed my lips and flipped us over so that I was on top. It seemed as though he was about to protest, so I put a finger to his lips.

"Trust me," I begged him. He sighed, but nodded and laid back.

       I smiled and lowered my mouth to him. I wasn't sure I'd be able to stand having him in my mouth. Not after what had been done to me.

       Instead, I licked up the underside of his shaft, my tongue trailing over the veins. He moaned and bit his lip. I felt a wave of excitement at how sensitive he was. I swirled my tongue over his tip, smearing the precum that had began to collect on it.

       When I felt comfortable, I lifted my head and took a deep breath. I straddled his waist and carefully lowered myself onto his cock. I gasped, slowly filling myself more.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his hands resting lightly on my hips.

       I nodded, biting my lip. I let out a moan as I finally sat down completely. He let out a hard breath, squeezing his eyes shut. Having him in me hurt, but it was a pleasurable pain. One that I knew I would crave everyday for the rest of my life.

"I'm fine," I uttered as I began grinding on him.

       He groaned, his grip on my hips tightening. Elio had never let me on top--he'd always stated that the male should be in control. So I wasn't quite sure what I was doing.

       But Az's hands on my hips helped guide me, helped encourage me. I rested my hands on his chest, running them over his muscles.

       His shadows settled on my breasts, playing with my nipples as I sighed in pleasure. One began swirling around my neck, focusing just below my ear.

       I braced my hands on his chest as I began riding him harder, causing a sweet whimper to fall from his lips. I smirked down at him. 

       His eyes were locked on mine, his thumbs stroking my hips. I whimpered as I got close to the edge again, and he could sense it from the way I clenched around him.

"Do you want me to pull out?" he asked me.

"No, please don't," I begged, throwing my head back as I nearly came undone.

"We'll cum together," he decided. I nodded.

      One of his hands left my hips, and his finger began circling my clit again. That was the last thing I needed to fall over that edge, just as he spilled inside of me.

       Our moans filled the room as we both climaxed, his eyes shut tight, his brow furrowed. I grinded against him a few times to draw out our orgasms, until we had wrung all the pleasure from each other.

      I collapsed on top of him from utter exhaustion, and he wrapped his arms around me, under my wings, pressing a kiss to my forehead.

"Do you want to bathe?" he asked.

"Too tired," I mumbled.

"Okay," he whispered, rolling me off of him.

       I protested as he got out of the bed and made his way to our bathroom. But he came back with a washcloth. He washed our combined releases from my thighs with the warm, wet towel.

       When he was done cleaning me up, he put the towel away and climbed back into bed with me.

"Are you okay?" he asked me. I nodded, humming contently. "Good." He pressed kisses to my face, then one to my lips.

       He pulled me into his warm arms, the two of us still naked. I decided this would be a lovely way to fall asleep, every night for the rest of my life.

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

Azriel Taglist: @serxndipity-ipity-blog @panther-girl-124 @tangled-sun @hawke1917

General Taglist: @lilah-asteria @andreperez11 @isnotwhatyourethinking

Comment to be added to the Azriel and General Taglists!

͙⁺˚*･༓☾　　☽༓･*˚⁺‧͙

[springtyme]

𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐲 ♡

Spencer Reid x reader || Main masterlist || Spencer playlist

summary: You spend a lazy sunday with Spencer.

word count: 765

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟕) 𝐋𝐚𝐳𝐲 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲

You stretch out on the couch, snuggled in a soft blanket, letting the warmth engulf you. Sunlight streams through the window, casting a golden glow across the living room. It’s a lazy Sunday, and the world outside seems to slow down, matching the rhythm of your day.

As you glance over at Spencer, who’s sprawled in the armchair, you can’t help but smile. He’s buried in a book—one of those dense, scholarly tomes that only he could find leisurely. His hair is tousled, and there’s a forgotten mug of coffee on the table nearby, steam still curling lazily into the air.

“Spence,” you call softly, your voice almost a whisper.

He looks up, his brown hazel eyes sparkling with a mix of curiosity and amusement. “Yes?” he replies, shifting in his chair, his attention torn between you and the captivating pages.

“What’s the topic today?”

He beams, the sparkle in his eyes intensifying. “It’s about the psychological impact of color on human behavior. Did you know that studies show blue can create a sense of calm?”

“No, I didn’t know that, but it’s interesting.” You chuckle, shaking your head playfully. “Only you would spend a Sunday learning about the psychology of colors, Spence.”

“Do you want to know more?” he asks, his voice animated, and you can’t help but love how passionate he is when he talks about his interests.

You sit up, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “Sure, but first, there’s something we can do to test out that ‘sense of calm’ theory.” You gesture to the blanket, the soft blue fuss of fabric draped around you, inviting him over to join you.

He hesitates for a moment, torn between his book and you, but your smile is irresistible. With a small laugh, he sets the book down and pads over to the couch, slipping in beside you. You nestle against him, resting your head against his shoulder as he wraps an arm around you.

“This is much nicer,” he muses, leaning his head against yours.

You close your eyes, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere, inhaling the comforting scent of his shampoo. The world outside fades away, leaving just the two of you in this cozy bubble. “So, tell me more about how colors affect our mood,” you say, nudging him gently to continue.

Spencer goes on, the words spilling out with delightful enthusiasm, but you find yourself drifting in and out of his explanations, comforted by the cadence of his voice. His talk evolves into a blend of colors, emotions, and the psychological associations various hues evoke. He mentions how warm colors, like red and orange, can elicit feelings of excitement and energy, while cooler colors, such as green and blue, promote relaxation and calmness. You listen, occasionally catching snippets of data and studies, but even more so, you’re enchanted by the sound of his voice and the way he lights up when he discusses his passions.

“Did you know,” he continues, his fingers gently stroking your back, “that yellow is often associated with happiness and optimism? But too much of it can actually lead to frustration and anxiety. It’s a delicate balance.”

You nod, slightly drowsy, but still invested in his words. “Sounds like colors are more complicated than I thought,” you murmur, a soft smile playing at the corners of your lips.

As the afternoon rolls on, you both decide to take a break from deep discussions, opting instead for a movie. Spencer adeptly picks one from your collection, and you laugh when he chooses a quirky classic rom-com, probably unaware of the irony.

As the film plays, you snuggle deeper into the blanket, resting your head against Spencer’s shoulder, feeling the warmth radiate between you. The opening credits roll, and you can’t help but smile at the familiar soundtrack—the kind of feel-good music that reminds you of lazy  afternoons spent on the couch together.

Spencer’s hand finds yours, fingers intertwining effortlessly as the movie unfolds. The lighthearted banter on-screen makes you chuckle, and you steal glances at Spencer, whose eyes twinkle with amusement. You appreciate these moments, finding joy not just in the film, but in the shared experience, the little moments of connection that weave your lives together.

As the credits roll, you find yourself wondering how you got so lucky. The day has been simple yet perfect, filled with laughter, warmth, and a sense of easy intimacy. You turn to him, brushing a stray hair from his forehead, and he looks at you with a gentle smile, his eyes reflecting the soft glow of the afternoon light.

[ivoryrebellionmess]

Spooky remorses II

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: You dated Jax for a year and a half, it was great. You fought sure, but that's a given if you´re both stubborn (and he's constantly in danger). Gemma didn't like the relationship, and she made sure that it ended. Now, months after the breakup, your friend takes you to a Halloween party that just happens to be SAMCRO´s.

warnings: 18+, mdni

A/N: hiii omg i cant believe so many people liked the first snippet. thank you so much, honestly, i am beyond excited. so here´s a follow up, hope youu like it <3

tw: foul language, kinda hooking up with your ex, jealous jax, smoking,a little bit of spice, alcohol, gemma being mean

Word count: 4k

You went over to Juice and Hazel, who were in the middle of the dancefloor. Juice and you had gotten close while you dated Jax. He was easygoing, funny and nerdy, and the first of the boys to warm up to you. 

The way an older brother would, he lifted you from the floor when you hugged, ¨How are you Juicy??¨. 

He seemed genuinely happy to see you, and he gestured to Hazel when he answered, ¨I´m great. You look awesome, the fangs are hot¨.

Finally someone complimented you on the fangs, you personally though they made you look way hotter, but whatever. You´d take this win.

Your relationship with Juice had always been the kind of friendship where it feels like you´ve known each other forever, so flirty jokes had always been just that, jokes. Hazel seemed surprised at the closeness you had with him, but it made sense that you had friends there if you had dated Jax for a year and a half. 

¨While you two catch up¨, she interrupted smiling, ¨I´m going to the bathroom and to get another drink¨. That would take a while, the party now in full swing.

Juice and you had been dancing for a little while when his shirt sleeve rolled up and his bicep was visible. Before you could help yourself, your hand was on it.

¨What the fuck happened to you since I´m not around? You on steroids or something?¨ Juice laughed at that and shook his head. 

He flexed his muscles while he talked about the new work out he´d been doing, ¨You like it?¨

He kept flexing his arm, and you kept laughing and touching him. Both of you oblivious to Jax´s stare, a mix of annoyance and jealousy. Chibs wasn't obvious though, and he did what he was there for. Stir the pot. ¨You don't look too happy there, Jackie-boy¨.

Ever since he'd seen you go in, he was on edge, he didn't even know why. Okay, he did, you were gorgeous and it wasn't for him. He regretted what had happened between you, and he felt guilty, he should've stood up for you to his mom. And now you were there. But it wasn't for him, and you weren't with him. You were with Juice, admiring his muscles. And it pissed him off, of course it did. You thought you could just walk in? Not even say hello? Prance around looking that good? Flirt with one of his brothers? All of that in front of him?

Juice and you were still joking around about how girls just swooned when they saw his ¨guns¨, as he liked to call them. If Jax thought that was as bad as it got, he was wrong when a song you loved came on and you seemed determined to have Juice dance it with you. He eventually accepted and pulled you close to him by your waist,  your arms around his neck. Jax was burning holes between his brother's tats when Chibs decided to continue his quest.

¨They´re getting cozy, aren't they?¨. He could feel the scot staring, but his eyes were glued to you.

To Juice´s hands on your waist, to the space separating your bodies that seemed to be getting smaller by the second. And your face, you were laughing at something, you lit up when you laughed. The way your right hand traveled from Juice´s neck to his arm again, squeezing it teasingly. He could feel the tension in his jaw, how tight he was gripping the beer, his knuckles white. And so could his brothers. 

Then, you turned your head to look at him, your gaze uninterested and bored, and said something in Juice´s ear. That was it, you had crossed a line. Ignoring him was one thing, but that look of pure disinterest, you could not ignore what you meant to each other.

Jax was walking before he could think about it, not knowing what he was going to say when he got to you. 

Dancing and joking, Juice´s demeanor suddenly shifted, you didn't need to ask why.

¨Shit, I don't think Jax is loving this¨. He didn't stop dancing, but you could tell he was being careful. He took a step back, removed his hands from your body.

You decided not to take it seriously so you retorted, ¨Why wouldn't he like us dancing?¨

Juice chuckled, but his tone was serious, ¨Don't play innocent, you know he's jealous¨.

And you just couldn't resist a peek, was he really?, so you turned your head, very focused on keeping a neutral face, and looked at him. He did look jealous, and annoyed. You tried not to let it get to you, you tried to have a good time. 

So you made a joke, you had to get close to Juice´s ear so he could hear it, ¨Is he scared you´re gonna make a move on me or somethin´?¨

Instead of an actual answer, you saw Juice´s look of terror. Turning around, you understood why. Jax was stomping towards you, an angry look on his face.

Juice´s whisper got mixed with yours, ¨Oh, hell¨ and ¨For the love of god-¨

Jax stopped in front of you, his eyes flickering back and forth between you and Juice. He narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw before speaking in the coldest tone you'd ever heard from him. 

¨What the hell is going on?¨. It was an easy question, with an easy answer, but you weren't feeling like taking the easy and safe route. 

Did you know he probably thought you were flirting? Yes. Did you care? No.

So, before you could think, or Juice could answer, the snarky remark was leaving your dark red lips. ¨What's it look like, genius?¨

It didn't seem possible, but his jaw clenched harder, he wasn't even looking at you. ¨It looks like you're flirtin´ with Juice, gettin´ all up on him right in front of me¨. There was something bitter about the way he answered. 

¨You think I care that you´re here? ¨. Of course you did. ¨You think I did this for your attention?¨. You hadn't, you actually hadn't. You were just trying to have some fun and ignore the hottest guy in the room. 

Jax knew you were just trying to provoke him, and it was working, but he refused to give you the satisfaction. He just hated seeing you two together, laughing and having fun while he was miserable. And maybe he also hated how damn close you had been dancing. The way you were looking at him, a challenge in your eyes. Go ahead, make a scene. He absolutely hated that he was about to.

He took a step closer, lowering his voice. ¨I don't think you did it for my attention, but now you have it. So cut it out¨. 

What did he think was going to happen? You'd just agree? No, he just wasn't thinking straight anymore. 

You, of course, only challenged him further. All that was needed for that were a scoff and two words. ¨Or. What.¨

Another step closer, you could touch him if you wanted to. ¨Or you´ll find out, that's what¨. He just growled an empty threat, you both knew it. He also knew he was out of patience and you were not going to keep pushing his buttons. 

You realized something then, he had growled, and you heard him. How had you been able to hear him with all of the noise…everyone was staring at you. Well, fuck. 

¨Okay people this isn't a show, go back to the party¨. With that, you left the clubhouse, only stopping against one of the picnic tables to lay against it and breathe deeply. 

Jax´s eyes followed you, as they had through the night. He could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on him, this had turned into a bit of a spectacle. He let out a frustrated sigh as he followed you to the picnic table, his footsteps heavy and deliberate. 

You heard him before you saw him, and as usual around him, you spoke before you thought. ¨You did always like to be the center of attention¨. 

The snarky comment had Jax gritting his teeth, his anger flaring up again. He did not speak, however, until he was standing in front of you, arms crossed over his broad chest. 

¨I don't know what the hell your deal is tonight, but you´re really pushing my buttons, you know that?¨.

To that, you only shrugged, looking at him coldly. ¨My deal is I just wanted to have some fun¨.

Maybe looking at him had been a mistake, if he had looked good from afar, he looked even better right in front of you, illuminated only by the streetlamps. He was wearing what he always wore, and still he had never looked better in jeans and an oversized white t-shirt. Your face did not show any of that obviously, it was neutral. He could tell you were angry though. But you could tell that so was he, so you were in a tie. 

Fun, that was what you were calling it? He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. ¨Yeah, real fun. Gettin´ all cozy with Juice, practically making´ out with him in front of me. That your idea of fun?¨.

You bit your lip, trying not to lose it on him, the fake fangs drawing his attention. ¨So, let's see if I got this right¨. You put all the poison you could in your words, hoping they stung as much as seeing him again did. ¨You´re mad I danced with Juice, whose attention was on me, as opposed to dancing with you¨. You poked his chest before continuing, ¨who didn't even say ¨hi¨ when I walked in?¨ 

He felt a pang in his chest at that, you were right, he´d been so caught up in his anger and jealousy that he hadn't even considered how he had ignored you up until that point. Jax looked away for a moment, a flash of guilt in his eyes. 

¨I didn´t-¨ He started to defend himself, but cut himself off, you were right. Instead he let out a frustrated huff.

¨Yeah, that's what I thought¨ You let a beat of silence pass, then looked at him again. Fuck he looked good.

¨Got a smoke?¨. You needed something to do with your hands.

Jax looked confused for a second, his eyes scanning your face, staying on your lips for a second too long. He was still mad at you, but he obliged. ¨Yeah¨.

He patted down his pockets until he found a crumpled pack of cigarettes. Taking one out, he handed it to you with his lighter. You only took the first, bringing your hand up as you asked, ¨Light me?¨.

His pulse quickened at the simple request, something about the way you said it. A bolt of desire went down his spine. Something in him wanted to challenge you, so instead of just lighting it, he took the cigarette from your fingers and placed it between your lips, lightly brushing them. You made an effort to not show the way he affected you. Jax then leaned in closer, shielding the flame from the wind with his hand, not touching you. Your eyes were locked in on his, the intensity of the moment almost unbearable. The fire made his eyes sparkle, you got lost in them. 

His gaze was still fixed on yours as you took the first drag, his face so close to yours he could almost feel your breath on his lips. The intimacy made his heart race, his anger slowly fading into the background. Your anger also became less and less prominent, upstaged by a complexity of feelings. 

Jax grabbed the cigarette from you and took a drag of his own, never breaking eye contact. The air between you was electric, crackling with tension. Having him so close made it hard to breathe. He blew the smoke, you felt it on the tip of your nose before it was blown away by the wind. His blue eyes were relentless, never breaking from you, not as he took another drag, and not as your hand searched for his to grab the cigarette. The tension growing thicker by the second. Jax was very aware of how close he was to you, how easily he could just touch you if he wanted to. And boy did he want to. 

He watched you smoke, and you watched him. Until your eyes focused on the cigarette instead of his blue ones. You followed the lipstick stained cig, and then your eyes stayed locked onto his lips.

They wrapped around the end of the cigarette, closing while he held the smoke in, and finally parted to let the smoke out. Jax could feel your gaze on his lips, it made his stomach clench with desire. 

He took another drag, slowl and deliberate, his lips closing around the cigarette in a way that was almost sinful. To top it off, he let out a low hum, eyes never leaving yours even if you were not looking back at him, mesmerized by his lips.

He was fully aware of the effect he had on you. And you both knew it. You cursed him mentally when you realized he was doing it on purpose.

When he hummed? That was straight up mean, and this time the curse came muttered under your breath, ¨Fuck-¨.

Jax smirked at your cursed response, his ego inflating. He could tell he was riling you up, and he was loving every second of it. 

¨What was that, baby?¨. His voice was low and dripping with false innocence. And using baby so casually, like he would while you were together? None of it was accidental.

He took another drag, this time watching you with a wolfish smile playing on his lips. You couldn't let him win.

Your hand went up to his face, sneaking the cigarette from him and taking it to your own lips. You exhaled the smoke in his face, lips almost brushing his. 

¨Didn't say anything¨, you played along with his innocence, replicating it.

Jax´s heart skipped a beat when your hand snatched the cigarette from his mouth. He could feel your breath on his skin when your lips came so enticingly close to his. The innocent facade only making it harder not to close the space between you. But he knew it was only an act. One he wasn't buying.

He chuckled lowly, ¨Yeah, sure you didn´t¨. His eyes fell to your lips again. Your gaze was fixed on his eyes, the hungry look in them making it harder to think of a comeback. 

You did what you could, taking a drag, hoping it would distract you, it didn't. ¨Yeah, sure I didn´t¨.

Had it been the smartest thing to say? No, but it was the best you could come up with, so it would have to do. You had to up your game, he couldn't win. Jax  found your teasing infuriating, hot, yes, but infuriating.

He was on edge, trying to keep his thoughts in check each time your lips wrapped around the cig. The need inside him to kiss you senseless was overwhelming, clouding his brain. 

¨You're such a damn tease¨, he growled, ¨you know that?¨.

To say that the growl had made your knees weak would be an understanding, you had to bring it up a notch too. It was only fair. 

Your reply could only be considered a purr, rather than actual talking. ¨Don´t know what you´re talking about¨.

His body ached to touch you, he gritted his teeth, wanting to kiss you until you couldn't breathe. Hell he wanted to kiss you until you couldn't remember your own damn name. The next time he talked you could hear the desire dripping in his rough voice, ¨God damnit, darlin´¨.

You liked the effect that had had on him, so you purred again, this time closer to his ear. ¨What is it, baby?¨ .

You hadn't meant to call him baby, it slipped, you got too lost in the heat of the moment.Had you not been so distracted, you'd realize the importance of what you had just said, the major step back you'd taken in getting over him. And his beautiful blue eyes. And his perfect lips. But he didn't give you time to think about all of that because his eyes darkened, his body stiffened by the tension. The sultry purr, calling him baby, you made him want to show you how much he'd missed you. 

¨You know damn well what you're doing to me¨, the desire was mixed with a bit of a warning. It did nothing to scare you off.

Using the hand that wasn't holding the cigarette, you pulled him closer by his belt loop, all caution thrown to the wind. 

¨Remember when we used to smoke together? Blowing the smoke into each others mouths?¨. You sensed him nod, watching him clench his jaw.

The reminder of those memories felt like a punch to his gut, your mouths touching, feeling your breath against him, the taste of your kisses, ...Jax felt like he was drowning.

His hands came to rest on your hips and his voice was barely a rough whisper, ¨Yeah, I remember¨.

You hummed, enjoying the feeling of his hands on you, yours now resting on his abs,¨Havent done it in a long time, have you?¨.

You could feel him tensing under your hand, fingers caressing his skin over the white cloth. His mind was spiraling, it had been so long since he felt your touch, he wanted more. Jax tried to pull himself together, shaking his head and looking at your eyes. 

His husky voice broke the silence, ¨No¨, and hesitantly, he added, ¨Not since you¨.

The hold on your hips got harsher, keeping you steady against his body. It made you press your legs together, and even worse, it pulled a groan from your throat. The fact that he hadn't done it with anyone else held significance, it felt like it was yours. It´s what you used to do whenever your screaming matches reached a dead end. You´d share a cigarette, and it always led to this, which always led to bed. Or a couch. Or wherever. Even the pool table once.

Your legs pressing together did not go unnoticed, igniting in him the urge to pin you against the picnic table and take care of it himself. But he needed to keep some semblance of control, even if it was slipping further and further away. What he did was lean in closer, pressing himself against your body, his mouth so close to your ear you felt his beard scratch it. 

But you couldn´t just let him have this, you needed to take control over your body. Okay, maybe taking control was an exaggeration. Regaining an inch of self restraint, you whispered in his ear, ¨Wanna do it again? For old times sake?¨.

Jax´s breath hitched as your breath ghosted over his ear, it took him a few seconds to understand what you said. And when he finally did, a shiver ghosted down his spine. His eyes fell closed as he tried to fight the desire inside him, the want to do very ungentlemanly things to you against that table. When had he even been a gentleman? His blue eyes opened, looking at you, sending sparks though your whole body. 

They were burning with desire, just like his raspy voice. ¨Fuck yeah, I do¨.

You were not brave enough to do anything, scared that your hands would tremble or your voice would shake. It wasn't a problem, Jax took the cigarette from your hand, letting his knuckles graze your fingers. Your touch against his abs was driving him crazy. So did your smell. And so did your eyes, which were locked on his lips. The heat of your body, even if it was a chilly october night, made his mind travel to dark places. He took a slow drag. 

¨Open up¨, his voice was raspier now that he was holding the smoke in his lungs. 

Your lips parted on their own accord, your head moving closer. That made Jax hum, itching to close the space between your mouths. His next command came right before he exhaled, barely giving you time to react, ¨Inhale¨. So you just obeyed, lips barely touching his. 

That graze sent a wave of heat through his body. Every little detail, from the way the smoke curled around your nose to your hand tracing patterns on his abs, was more overwhelming than the last. It was a hard fight against himself, against the crippling desire to fuck you right then and there. The anticipation though, was making the moment hotter and hotter.

Your self awareness, the little voice screaming don´t do this, seemed to have disappeared with your self-esteem when he next ordered: ¨Hold it in¨.

You almost moaned, his dominant side had always had that effect on you. Your hand moved to his waist, needing somewhere to hold on to before your knees gave out. 

Your hand clutching his waist, that brought back memories. Way more naked memories. Your body pressed against his. He was sure you could feel how hard he was against your thigh. And you could. It was distracting. You felt his arm move up again, but your eyes did not move from his. 

Jax got closer as he spoke, his lips now millimeters from yours, ¨Ready?¨ . You could taste the smoke as you exhaled. 

Then, your mind managing to work for a short second, you realized what he´d asked. What did he mean by ready?.

¨Another one?¨.

Jax seemed to be a second away from tearing your dress off when he answered, ¨Yeah…another one¨. That look in his eyes made realize, it was a challenge, he was challenging you, the stubborn bastard. And this was a fight you were not losing.

So as the cigarette came closer to his lips again, you snatched it, ¨My turn¨.

He could hear it in your voice, you were fighting a losing battle, so was he. The idea of throwing the towel, though, seemed appealing and terrifying at the same time. The only answers you got were a groan and a rub of his impossibly hard dick against your soft thigh.

You didn't realize you had moaned until he mocked you for it, ¨You need to keep it together baby¨, then his head moved lower as he bit your earlobe, ¨We haven't even started yet¨. 

His sass, as much as it bothered you, was hardly enough to keep you from crashing your lips with his. But he pulled away, his voice dripping sex and cockiness, ¨Show me what you got¨, nodding to the cig in your hand. And you had no choice but to obey. 

So you took a long drag, hoping it would distract you from the ache between your legs. It didn't. Moving the hand from his waist to his face, you caressed his lower lip and decided to throw his words back at him. 

¨Open up¨. You sounded way more confident than you were expecting, or felt for that matter. You could tell it had bothered him, good . That's not all it did, it caused him to hum. And as he parted his lips, his tongue darted out and licked your thumb. You shakingly exhaled the smoke, wondering how much more you could take. 

Jax did not need your instructions, closing the gap between you and inhaling the smoke, not pulling away even after he let the smoke out, you were breathing the same air. He somehow got closer, one of his hands steady on your hip as the other moved up, finally setting on the back of your head. His fingers traced patterns on your nape, sending shivers down your spine.

Your mind was no longer yours as you slowly licked his lower lip. His lips parting a second later, but he didn´t give in. Lucky for him, you didnt give a fuck anymore. Using the hand on his cheek, you pulled him closer and kissed him, your tongue in his mouth, battling for dominance. Fuck. It was somehow better than you remembered. And you couldn't get enough, his lips tasted like smoke and addiction. 

Life never made it easy for you as the clubhouse door flew open, breaking the moment, shedding light and noise on you. On your compromising position. 

[the-goddess-of-gays]

snippets of my HoO textfic, pt.1

Annabeth: There is a murder in the tree outside my bedroom window and they are SO loud Annabeth: I literally cannot think Leo: ayo?? Jason: Annabeth...? Piper: whos being murdered Hazel: ??? Annabeth: **CROWS Annabeth: A MURDER OF CROWS Annabeth: LIKE A FLOCK OF CROWS. IN MY TREE. CROWS. NOT A HOMICIDE VICTIM. JUST CROWS. C R O W S. Percy: lmao Annabeth: I'm going back to Tartarus.

[anghraine]

I was re-watching The Search For Spock for reasons and damn, I'm kind of fascinated by the brief interactions between Kirk and Sarek.

Sarek does not even consider that Spock might have mind-melded with anyone but Kirk before dying; he just assumes Kirk is carting around Spock's katra but making some baffling choices around it, and when he realizes Kirk doesn't have it, he assumes there was no mind-meld at all. (This is partly because Kirk was the last person who interacted with Spock, but even once Sarek knows Kirk wasn't there at the right time, he doesn't consider that Spock might have passed his katra to someone who was there.)

Kirk responds to the assumption that of course it was him by saying, "Sir, your son meant more to me than you can know" (I feel like Sarek does know, in fact). Kirk adds that he'd have died if it meant Spock would live, he just doesn't know wtf Sarek is talking about.

The sole explanation for why Spock didn't meld with Kirk before dying is that Kirk didn't happen to be in the same room at the time. There's this awful soft anguish to Kirk's explanation: "We were separated...he couldn't touch me..."

The mind-meld with Sarek is weird and uncomfortable (which I actually like them to be—let Vulcans be weird!). The camera continually focusing on Sarek's mouth doesn't help, though.

However, this meld doesn't seem as ... encompassing as the Kirk-Spock ones (I mean, one would hope not, but still). Sarek just summarizes Kirk's memories and repeats some specific statements of Spock's as he's rifling through Kirk's memories, rather than speaking Kirk's own thoughts as Spock did; Kirk's independent confirmations that Sarek is correctly seeing his memories come from Kirk's own mouth, not Sarek's.

Unusually, Kirk opens his eyes halfway through the meld as he gets to relive this latest trauma, and he's obviously on the verge of tears but holds back. The way the camera focuses on his eyes specifically is fantastic, actually—the lighting mingles with the hazel of his eyes in a kind of unsettling way and you just see the stunned grief in them.

At one point, Kirk just longingly/miserably murmurs "Spock..." as he's reliving their last moments together. Via Spock's father.

Presumably(????) they didn't literally mean Sarek to be Kirk's father-in-law, and yet their dynamic just feels so much like tense in-laws who previously didn't talk much or approve of each other dealing awkwardly with shared loss, and then teaming up against any threats to the welfare of the person they both love.

Once Kirk understands what the hell Sarek is even talking about, he's the one who is absolutely certain Spock would have passed on his katra when Sarek gives up hope. Sarek promptly realizes that Kirk's understanding of Spock is correct, though he didn't see it himself until Kirk points it out, and still has no idea how this would have worked out. It's Kirk, again, who comes up with the most obvious explanation.

Instead of going through the camera recordings himself, Kirk asks Sarek to please wait so they can go through them together.

One of the snippets from the recording that shows up as Kirk is rewinding to the right spot is past!Kirk screaming and being held back as Spock is dying. Sarek isn't even judgmental about it. (ngl I ... suspect the Sarek-Kirk relationship is going to be a lot better once things settle down later.)

Kirk acknowledges that carrying this out will be difficult and Sarek says, "you will find a way." Kirk just responds, "I will. I swear."

Then towards the end of the film, as the Klingon ship approaches Vulcan, Sarek responds to the announcement of their arrival with "Tell them ... tell Kirk we'll be ready." Again, Sarek seems to believe that Spock's relationship to Kirk specifically is exceptional and unlike his other friendships. Sarek is the one who tells post-ritual Spock about his closeness to Kirk in particular and that Kirk went back for him. (This is also reinforced by Spock recognizing Kirk's face alone, and recalling his name specifically.)

By the time the ritual is over, Sarek knows that Kirk's own son died in the process of recovering Spock. When Kirk says he did what he had to do, Sarek asks, "But at what cost?" Kirk just says he'd have lost his soul if he hadn't tried and Sarek accepts this.

[twobehonest]

Guys please I've been maybe rewriting how I would go about rewriting Heroes of Olympus (mainly books 2-3 because those are the ones that focus on Camp Jupiter the most) and how my take about the Imperial Trio (Octavian, Jason, Reyna) would go / work.

Now ngl I know if I had to follow the plot of the books we would have 0 time to actually go over any specific characteristics rather than what's really physical for most characters but shhhh

(NOTE: this is NOT the FULL post of my rewrite, this is just to get some of my thoughts out while they're still fresh. There's things subject to change :)) )

In this rewrite (and I guess AU in a sense?), Octavian is the son of Janus, and also may or may not be anemic, caused by chimerism, which is hinted at via vitiligo.

I may or may not put Octavian in the Senate, because uh, Augurs kinda do jackshit unless there's a prophecy. Also he's treated like he got no power fr but that shouldn't be the case, so I'm working out how the 3 balances of power do work.

I'm thinking that Reyna, Jason, and Octavian are trailblazers and progressed Camp Jupiter exponentially while focusing on their individual talents. Octavian, being the more politically and religiously focused one, while having the powers of Janus, (Which I've interpreted some of the power Janus-kids and legacies have are either naturally good decisions making (or being confident in their decisions) or being jackshit at decision-making in general while being able to interpret someone's intentions as well, even if they lie or not.) Reyna with warfare and such, and Jason with the more social aspects, such as responding to concerns about anything really (but once Jason is missing, this all suddenly shifts to Octavian.)

Also, apparently Janus can see in both the past and the future, I don't really know which myth Rick took from so. For my sake, let's say Octavian got born with the rarer powers of being able to see someone's past and future.

Which diverges into more things, but one of them is the eventual blackmail of Hazel, to get her to stop nagging him about Jason's appearance and give him a second. He's stressed, and dealing with the loss of Jason still while nobody is willing to get off his back. He's doing his best, he can't spawn answers out of nowhere. So, besides his best judgement, he snaps and unintentionally-intentionally blackmails her, souring the relationship between both of them indefinitely. He gets a lot more snappy, and seems to hang around people who are more quiet. Like Reyna. Who he was already friends with, and maybe Dakota (literally just a reason to have character interaction with people other than the main characters for Octavian)

[Anyways I'll speak about it more soon enough when I actually finish the entire art piece and actually articulate my thoughts about it. This was just a tiny snippet, hope you found some interest in it or something, since somehow you guys liked the Gaia using Octavian as a host AU 💀]