#promiseofspring
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Lucien didn’t flinch when Elain’s voice cracked through the air. He stood his ground, though her nearness that fire in her eyes, the storm in her voice, threatened to undo every calm mask he’d ever worn. She was fury and heartbreak incarnate, and still, he found her breathtaking.
His jaw tightened, but his voice was quiet when it came. “You don't want it, Elain. Isn't that the choice you're making?” He didn’t move when she jabbed him, didn’t so much as shift. But his gaze lowered to meet hers, and for a flicker of a second, Lucien felt something close to hope. “I’m saying I’ll endure whatever I must if it means setting you free.” Lucien shook his head, his gaze shifting off her for just a moment. "I know you are not selfish, Elain. I would never call you selfish"
His voice broke then, soft but aching. “It’s your life, Elain. Your immortal life. And you deserve to want it.” He looked up, meeting her eyes, bare, unguarded. “And if I have to spend the rest of mine pretending I don’t feel you in every breath, I will. But I will not be the reason you feel caged.”
A beat passed. Another. His own frustration growing, aching. He'd waited, two years for something and this? Her tilt of her head, always saying that he didn't ask for this—
“I did ask for you, Elain.” The words rang out before he could stop them, before he could soften them into something less raw. He stepped up to her, his head angled downward. But it was too late now. His chest rose and fell in sharp bursts as all the things he’d buried finally clawed their way to the surface. She cared about sending him into madness, but still left in this purgatory of nothing. No mate, not even a friendship, he was waiting, just out of reach.
“I asked for someone kind. I asked for someone fierce. Someone who could see past what I am, who might choose to accept me, someone who was strong enough to be mine, who wanted to be mine. His jaw worked, his fists clenching at his sides as he looked down at her. “Don’t you dare stand there and say this was something neither of us ever wanted because I do.I may not have known it was you, but now I—”
His voice cracked at the edges now, but he didn't care. He’d spent too long playing at restraint, biting his tongue while she retreated, again and again, leaving him in the ache of her silence. But this—this was something else entirely. It wasn’t distance anymore. “You think I don’t know what it feels like to be trapped by something you didn’t ask for?” he demanded. “You think I haven’t felt that? Haven’t lived it every day since Jes—” He broke off, breath catching. He hadn’t meant to go this far.
He scrubbed a hand through his hair and took a shaky breath, quieter now, but no less intense. He needed to step back, small, but necessary. Elain didn't want to know anything about him. She's made that clear. Just someone to whisk her away when she needed, someone to let her yell and scream. It was something, but it wasn't what he thought.
Elain turns to Lucien when he says he understands, searching his mismatched eyes for any hint of dishonesty. she doesn’t know whether to believe him — whether he truly understands or merely thinks he does.
there’s so very little she knows about Lucien. what she knows are merely fragments — little stories Feyre would share freely, scattered pieces of a puzzle Elain never dared to complete. if she ever wanted to know him, she’d rather learn directly from him and not through secondhand stories. but she’s not ready for that —- not ready to face the possibility of actually liking him. but when he offers her the chance to break the bond, she scoffs, shaking her head.
“ break the bond?! ” Elain’s voice rises several octaves — if she hasn’t gone mad, he certainly has. it doesn’t matter how achingly he looks at her, her fury remains undeterred. “ how do you think that’s even an option?! ” she steps closer, eyes blazing. “ I know what happens when mating bonds are broken! ”
She had wondered before, in her darkest, most desperate moments —- what happens when faes sever the mating bond. And when she finally learned the truth, she’d buried that knowledge so deep she’d hoped never to think of it again. “ do you think I’m that selfish — ” her eyes narrow to slits, utterly offended, “ --- that you honestly believe i’d do such a thing? ” she jabs a finger to his shoulder, each word pointed. if it were that simple she wouldn’t be carrying this crushing weight in her chest, would she?
“ perhaps it surprises you —- but I can’t live knowing that my choice might send someone else into madness. ” her arms fall slack to her sides, lifting her chin in challenge. “ do you think I could fight for myself if it meant watching you fall apart? if it meant making you suffer for something neither of us ever asked for? ”
there’s no way she’d risk it. she’s toyed with the idea — especially in moments when their bond feels most unbearable — but the thought of causing that kind of pain on someone for something they never chose . . .
who would understand that better than Elain herself? “ why else do you think this is so impossibly hard for me, Lucien? ”
there's another truth she doesn’t voice — the truth that maybe . . . she’s afraid she might be wrong. that maybe fate isn’t entirely cruel . . . that maybe he could love her the way she always longed to be loved.
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“would you believe me if I said i've got to save the city?” // for laerion ! // @promiseofspring
The sea swallows the little hum that tickles his throat. It's a sound of acknowledgment, as if she could miss being the center of his attention. Looming, leaning forward against the rope he holds, he's studying her. In the shadow of the Queen Rhae.nys, those appraising eyes might as well be black.
"I would say you have your work cut out for you," Laerion confirms. "How coincidental, that you must save the city by leaving it... No doubt stowed away on some ship... Headed right out of port within the hour." Amusement is a burr on his tongue, a shift in the boom of his voice. How ignoble it would be of him, to deny the lady her quest. How easily exploited he would be, if he was a man of honor.
Certainly. no one has ever accused him of being that. It's the scent of him, really. The courts of his homeland could never trust a thing taken by the sea without drowning. He smells of impossibility to them.
As for his look, it must be mighty easy. Otherwise, why him? Idly loosening the rope, he begins to twine it around a hand bigger than some heads. At last, he looks away from her, back to the horizon. Black and silver hair catches in the wind, a peculiar sight given his apparent youth.
It sits so at odds with the honey curls sprouting off her own head. Little thing, about the size of his nieces. Stop that, he cautions himself. That way leads to absolute surrender --
"Doubtful I'm heading in the direction of your grand quest."
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when he came to this town injured, less the man he'd been, and all alone – the last thing he expected was to make an acquaintance. he won't call her friend just yet. not when he's made all the nonverbal signs of wishing to be left alone to his little garden he's been working on, but over a short amount of time she's made her presence a recurring thing. he won't say she's someone he's grown to care for, not when when he felt forced to lay a chair our for her while he works, when responses had been mere grunts or stares, but now he speaks to her freely. no, he won't even admit that he's grown used to her presence, that perhaps he even looks forward to these moments.
this afternoon is different than most. criston had learned that some of his grown crops had been invaded by small creatures. to which the man had had spoken, ❝ i must kill these creatures. ❞ before what he's grown (instead of destroyed) with his own two hands is brought to ruin by small animals.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ“what good would killing do, when mercy ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤis a skill more of this world could learn ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤto use?” - @promiseofspring
brows furrow at elain's response. moments pass and he's rendered incapable of speaking. he wants to tell her the truth: of who he had been, of all the sins he'd committed. would she still visit him if she knew the man he'd left behind to the war? could she look him in the eye the same if she knew how much blood stained his hands? dark gaze casts low to his garden. the one good thing that had come from him. ❝ do you look down on those who would kill? ❞
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there is a part of him that can't help but to feel as though she's hiding something. he's ever the observant one and has been keen to realize how rather against elain has been about his journey from sunspear to king's landing. they say a young baratheon king is set to marry a tyrell — the martells have been invited and in his brother's place, oberyn has accepted. (he believes it would give him the perfect opportunity to kill the mountain.) but since his announcement of his acceptance — and being so loose lipped around the other with his schemes, she has come up with every rhyme and reason as to why he shouldn't.
if she says he could die, he says death is not yet ready to claim him. if she believes him to be making a mistake, he believes he's making the most important decision a man could make in avenging his sister. and so – he carries on with his plan to go.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ'𝚙𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎 … 𝚒𝚝 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚎𝚟𝚎𝚛𝚢𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚟𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐.' ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ@promiseofspring
❝ it is not my pride i hold true to. but my sister. ❞ for why should the mountain continue to breathe after the atrocities he'd committed? after he'd taken from oberyn his elia and her children. ❝ i will go for my family. my mind has been made up. ❞
#promiseofspring#ʳᵉ : oberyn martell / interactions.#i hope it's okay to assume elain was in dorne even if in passing! :')#we can always chat about how long they've known one another but at the very least they're familiar at this point.
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𝔭. ▐ ⊰ ' ❛ i don't need advice right now , just a friend to listen. ❜ -- @promiseofspring
a bittersweet little hmph is given as she crosses her arms on the edge of the pool of starlight , violet eyes gazing up at the spring incarnate before her with the faintest of smiles curving her lips. ❛ you'll find i make a great listener. i've spent centuries doing nothing but listening. ❜ it has been a lonely time for her – the spring court was not as populated as velaris , especially not in the woods here. most of her companionship has been woodland creatures – fae were far &* few between , &* even then she could not be known. so she listened – waited for azriel to be able to respond to her thoughts so very far away. waited even longer for him to be able to visit. elain joining as the second person to know of her existence here has been most welcome. ❛ besides . . . what advice do i have to give ? i imagine i'd be quite out of touch. ❜
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“my dreams grow darker.” - for Azriel
❛ i've lived in darkness longer than most people have drawn breath. ❜ Azriel speaks gently, keeping a respectable distance from her. He doesn't reach for her, doesn't waver an inch, but the pull he feels to do exactly that is strong. He wants to be near her, to coax the darkness. To show Elain that some shadows mean her no harm. ❛ i can't chase away your nightmares, but the shadows … they listen and they linger. ❜ One of his shadows curls around his wrist as if summoned by his words. Wisp-like and curious. It stretches in her direction, slowly, as though asking for permission.
❛ they've followed me into worse things than sleep. if you let them, they'll stay with you tonight. they can keep the worst of the dreams at bay. ❜
#promiseofspring#hehe <3#i just love az yapping about his shadows#i could go on forever !!!#i hope this is ok...#<3#re: azriel ; ic.
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❛ We all carry things inside us that no one else can see. ❜ for cassian !
INBOX PROMPTS ╱ 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦�� 𝑎𝑐𝑐𝑒𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔.

“Some things can be seen easier than others.”
His was an open wound. The bastard son of an Illyrian nobody, a mongrel beaten down at every turn, spat upon by those who thought him unworthy of even the dirt beneath their boots. And yet, he stood. He clawed his way from nothing, defied every hand that tried to shove him back into the dust. That he was here at all, that he had become something more than what they had decreed for him, was almost laughable.
It was why his loyalty would forever be bound to the Night Court. Rhysand had not looked at him and seen filth. Had not judged him for the shame stitched into his lineage. He had given Cassian something rare—respect. Not out of pity, nor obligation, but simply because it was right. It was also why he understood the sisters so well. Their desperation, their survival, and sinking to that low place; still somehow to find their way out. He got it.
“We can try to bury our ugly little truths, pretend they don’t fester beneath our skin. But sooner or later, they crawl their way to the surface. Others have found a way to smell it on us. We’re not like them. Still, we’re standing. Still breathing. That counts for something, doesn’t it?”
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Tropical neighbours are a hint of summer warmth ☺️ #palmtrees #promiseofspring #seasons (at Melbourne, Victoria, Australia) https://www.instagram.com/p/BzfTyBpg4FJ/?igshid=vr1fjekbnn9m
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Forgot to post this yesterday... I cannot wait for leaves 🌿🌳 #leafbuds #springvibes🌸 #donmills #promiseofspring (at Don Mills) https://www.instagram.com/p/Ccb0estFr81/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
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Feyre, with her own glint in her gaze, held a smile on her face as her cup touched her lips. Clearly avoiding Elain's pointed look. Of course they both know what she was doing.
Feeling her lips widen in a smile, Feyre felt overly confident in the moment. Elain, sitting there, innocently as if they both didn't know what she meant by 'other things'. If Elain thought Feyre would back off, she'd double down. After all . . .It seemed out of all of them, she'd adapted to fae customs the quickest, and what better way to show that then embarrass and tease her— until Elain beats her to the punch. "Elain!" Feyre placed her cup down, staring at her older sister as if trying to ascertain the truth.
"Well? I'll grab the brandy and then it is an appropriate conversation for tea" Feyre is ready to get up, her hands braced on the chair until the atmosphere around them shifts. "Oh" Feyre watches her sister, in a way that seems so different than when she first arrived. Elain was no longer a ghost of herself, with Lucien she was...alive. But it wasn't just that, was it?
Feyre slowly lowered herself back into her seat, studying the way Elain’s fingers curled gently around her teacup, the way her lips pressed together—not in hesitation, but in something softer, something almost wistful. "Elain" Her face was bright, her voice was warm, and Feyre couldn't believe it. “You love him,” Feyre said, not as a question, but as something inevitable, something that made their news to her all the harder.
Feyre reached across the table, covering Elain’s hand with her own. “Don't you?" and there, in the soft glow of the afternoon light, Feyre saw it—the quiet, undeniable truth of it all. Even if Elain didn't see it yet. A love that had been waiting, a bond neither of them had spoken of outright, but one that had rooted itself so deeply that even Elain could no longer ignore it.
And so Feyre only smiled, giving her sister’s hand a squeeze before leaning back with a knowing look. “Still think it’s not appropriate conversation for tea?”
elain shoots feyre a look, half exasperated and half amused. with a knowing tilt of her head, she narrows her eyes – i see exactly what you’re doing.
she can feel the roles between them shifting; feyre speaks of the mating bond with such familiarity and a certainty that makes her feels . . . younger somehow. less sure of herself and where she stands in all of this. feyre’s teasing should make her scoff, dismiss it outright - like any older sister would when prodded about her love life. but instead she hesitates, caught between wanting to deflect and wanting to talk about it.
elain takes a slow sip of her tea, tilting her head as if in deep thought, “ other . . . things? ” she arches her brow, feigning innocence in her tone. then, with a dramatic sigh she sets her cup down gently, “ oh, feyre . . . you wouldn’t believe me if i told you about lucien’s fire . . . ” she let her words hang just long enough before exhaling as though burdened by some great, scandalous knowledge, “ it’s hardly proper conversation for tea, don’t you think? ”
but the moment doesn’t last; elain’s teasing smile softens, turning wistful at the mere mention of lucien being here. her gaze absently drifts to the very same window her sister’s caught her looking through too many times since they sat down for tea. you look like you’re in love, elain. the words linger and elain does not refute them.
“ i wish i could have brought him back with me, ” she admits softly, tracing the rim of her now empty tea cup. “ if i hadn’t left in such a hurry . . . i would have. ”
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Posted @withregram • @christinastapperphotography I don't' know about all of you, but I'm glad to have had a chance to have taken a 'pause button' with my family. This past year has been rough, especially as a self-employed entrepreneur, but I have routinely chosen to 'look at the positive' as a practice. I know this might sound cliche or trite, but for me and my family, it has been a way of addressing things that we truly love and are grateful for and to make sure we are paying it forward. That being said, I am looking forward to saying goodbye to winter, and embracing the promise of spring, new life, and new adventures. Praying you and your loved ones are safe and healthy. Peace friends! Hope springs eternal, and I look forward to family sessions outdoors with flowers, green grass and sunshine! "Pass along the value of empathy to our children. Not sympathy, but empathy—the ability to stand in somebody else's shoes; to look at the world through their eyes." Barack Obama #springphotos #family #familyiseverything #familylife #bestlife #photography #photosession #spring #hopespringseternal #spring #newlife #life #photographer #photosessions #familyphotography #promise #promiseofspring #hope #life #people #portraitphotography #ilovemyjob #trees #blues https://www.instagram.com/p/CMhNiFDlk60/?igshid=ikfh8lj8dqn7
#springphotos#family#familyiseverything#familylife#bestlife#photography#photosession#spring#hopespringseternal#newlife#life#photographer#photosessions#familyphotography#promise#promiseofspring#hope#people#portraitphotography#ilovemyjob#trees#blues
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The Promise of Spring - Daffodil - Eureka Springs, Arkansas #eurekasprings #eurekaparks #onlyineureka #promiseofspring #daffodils #arkansas #photo #visualsoflife #photography #artgallery #artcollector #rebelsroam #artquenchmagazine #travelphotography #photooftheday #inspiration #beautiful #colorpop #fineartphotography #memorspiritus - @artsy_takeover @cypart @tonyshafrazi @tanyabonakdargallery @lagnyc @mboeskygallery
#daffodils#artgallery#promiseofspring#fineartphotography#onlyineureka#arkansas#beautiful#artcollector#rebelsroam#colorpop#photooftheday#memorspiritus#photo#visualsoflife#photography#eurekasprings#eurekaparks#travelphotography#artquenchmagazine#inspiration
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His shoulders loosen with a breath when she murmurs her own response, his lips curling at the edges. "I agree" He own voice is faint, too absorbed in the moment that burned between them. Lucien dips his head in a nod, he too, thought they should practice.
She is all teasing glances and fleeting touches, all soft laughter and wicked smiles, a game of near and not-quite, and Lucien lets it happen because he has no choice, because he is already caught in her pull, in the weight of a bond that tightens around his ribs like a vice. But then—then she says it. His control frays at the edges. Lucien inhales sharply, his fingers twitching at her waist, at the delicate fabric of her dress that he suddenly resents for being a barrier between them. He doesn’t look away, doesn’t let her slip from his grasp this time. “As you wish,” he murmurs, voice rough, unsteady. No more pretending, no more fawn and fox. Elain only tilts her chin up, meeting his gaze without a shred of doubt.
And that—that is what undoes him. Lucien exhales, slow and measured, but there is nothing calm in the way his hand slides down to hers, the way he threads their fingers together like a promise, like a claim. It’s likely easy to see, the shift in his persona. Not Lucien the flirtatious courier, just. . . her Lucien. “Follow me, love” he murmurs, and the words are more than agreement—they are surrender. And Elain must know, — must, that she is the only one he’d ever surrender too. The only one who could ever convince him to be reckless, to be so lovesick over. Someone he'd do anything for. Lucien carefully navigated them to the edge of the room, his hand firm around hers, savoring the rightness in the sensation.
There is no hesitation when they step past the threshold, no second-guessing when the cool night air greets them, wrapping around the heat still thrumming between them. Lucien barely registers the sounds of the ballroom fading behind them—Elain is all he can focus on.
elain tilts her head slightly, her eyes gleaming with mischief. she feels the warmth of him ghosting over the shell of her ear, goosebumps rising along the length of her spine and spreading to every place his words seem to touch, even the bare skin not hidden beneath the delicate hem of her dress.
“ what if i no longer wish to test it? ” she murmurs, her body leaning into his without a thought, fingers lingering just a second longer at his nape before trailing back to his shoulders, “ i think i'm done with theories, ” she hums thoughtfully, “ i'd rather put it into practice, ” the words are meant to be playful but they come out breathless, like she, too, is losing at this game they’re playing. and she knows from the way he tenses, the way his grip shifts ever so slightly, and the rough edge of restraint in his voice that she is playing with fire.
Autumn fire that she should not want to burn her.
and yet, she feels nothing but thrill that ignites a recklessness in her with a wanting that should scare her. but it doesn’t, it only makes her feel weightless, completely drunk on the heady tension between them. she can already picture it now: lucien sweeping her out of the ballroom, leading her past the towering hedges out into the quiet gardens where he might press her against the ivy-covered wall and finally put an end to this maddening game.
her lips part, and she very nearly tells him exactly that. but instead, she only smiles wickedly and just as easily as she had leaned in, she pulls away. a dance of touch and retreat, of teasing him to the very edge before slipping just out of reach. she turns in his arms, the press of her body against his nothing more than a whisper of heat before she’s already twirling away. she laughs, light and breathless. and then, just as the music sways into its final notes, she drifts back into his arms, their dance coming to a close.
the world around them feels distant, the laughter and chatter of the ballroom barely registering past the sound of her own heartbeat in her ears. elain meets his gaze fully then, “ i wish for you to take me away now, ” she murmurs, stepping close enough that she has to tilt her head up to meet his gaze. “ just the two of us. ”
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Jasmine....... signs of hope in the Wintery Garden..... #winterflowers #winterjasmine #promiseofspring #coaxdonfarm #Airbnb (at Coaxdon Farm)
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Enjoying some of the last batch of #spiced #honey #mead in the #backyard #itsimbolcafterall #desert #nordiccelt #magick in the #air #imbolc #promiseofspring #brigid #candlemas #inspiration it's the time of #yemaya too #polytheism #interspirituality #panentheism https://www.instagram.com/p/B8C02yWhKc3/?igshid=1n50esoc94dc9
#spiced#honey#mead#backyard#itsimbolcafterall#desert#nordiccelt#magick#air#imbolc#promiseofspring#brigid#candlemas#inspiration#yemaya#polytheism#interspirituality#panentheism
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Latest encaustic experiment. Clearly I am hungry for spring. #encaustic #encausticart #portlandartist #imbolc #promiseofspring #newgrowth #hanginthere https://www.instagram.com/p/BuwJGq7Ao8p/?igshid=8qoxnaubczbf
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