#there are you happy sarah

[olyphant-tim]

RAYLAN GIVENS + @timothyolyphant's reactions happy birthday, sarah! 🥳💕

[surielstea]

The Best I Ever Had

Based on this request.

Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader (Azriel’s ex)

Summary: Reader seeks revenge on her ex-boyfriend, and that revenge just so happens to take the form of a very willing Vanserra.

Warnings: Smut | Minors DNI | p in v | fingering | cervix brushing | no aftercare (not Eris) | angst (not Eris) | manipulation (not Eris)

7.6k words

I've been dating the shadow singer for a little over a year now— but calling it dating seemed to be a stretch. It started with a few dates but inevitably it turned into a cycle of him telling me to come over, we'd hook up, then I'd leave in the morning. If he wasn't busy I'd stay for breakfast, but that was pretty much it.

Now I lay next to him, thoroughly fucked out and sweating. Azriel was a busy male but when he fucked, he fucked good. That fact made me feel selfish for wanting more than just being a casual hookup.

I sigh audibly, sitting up and slipping out of the bed, waddling into the bathroom to get myself cleaned up. That was another thing, once Azriel got what he wanted he was kind of done with me, so aftercare was absent and it made me feel like shit.

I huff as I wipe myself down with a warm rag, then splash water over my face and pat it dry with a soft towel.

I met the spymaster through Morrigan, I hadn't been particularly close to the inner circle but Mor was a good friend of mine, and of course, I could see the way he looked at her, admired her with a silent devotion. He has for years while I just watched in the background. Then the three Archeron sisters showed up and he began doing it to Feyre's sister Elain, or Nesta's friend Gwyn. But never me. Never looked at me that way. I was slowly realizing I was becoming a placeholder until something better fell into his lap.

I turn the faucet off and leave the bathing chamber, shuffling back to the bed, slightly defeated. I slide onto the mattress, my boyfriend already sounds asleep with his winged-back facing me. I yawn and decide I’ll voice my opinions tomorrow after a full night's rest, perhaps over breakfast, I could tell him how I feel.

With a plan in mind and enough exhaustion to make a pegasus pass out, I was able to find a light sleep.

The morning greeted me with an empty bed, Azriel's spot empty, and I doubted the male was downstairs making me breakfast. I grumble a curse as I flip the blankets off of me and get up. I simply glance at myself in the mirror and brush my hands through my hair before leaving his room in my nightgown, rubbing at my eyes as I descend the stairs and into the kitchen.

The clatter of a fork sounds and I turn to my left to see the silent shadow singer who had just finished eating. "You didn't want to wake me up?" I say, squinting at the male's silhouette framed by large windows of the morning light behind him. He shrugged in reply. "Figured you'd rather sleep," He murmured as he stood, collecting his dishes and walking towards me.

As he brushes past me towards the sink I remember the loose plan I had put together last night.

"I was thinking," I start. It was now or never. He turned his head to me slightly, signaling that he was listening while he placed his dishes in the basin. "We've been going out for about a year now, maybe we should do something special?" I offer and he turns to me fully, slight confusion creasing his brows. I didn't understand what was so puzzling about it.

"Like what? And when?" He asks, his tone making me feel like I was scheduling a business meeting. I roll my eyes and take a few steps closer. "I don't know, you're always busy," I sigh, making my annoyance clear. He bristles. Perhaps I shouldn't have said that.

"I just mean, would it kill you to take a break for a day?" I look up at him, my arms behind my back. I hated this. Hated the way he looked down at me as I begged him to just give me the slightest fraction of his attention. He blows out a long breath in contemplation. "I suppose I can take a day off in a couple of weeks," He utters like it's such a chore to leave work.

"A couple of weeks?" I balk with wide eyes and he shrugs again. "I'm not that flexible," He explains and my frown deepens. "Just the other day you took off to help Morrigan with writing letters to the continent," I argue. "That's, different," He said with a slight hesitance in his voice. "How so?" I cross my arms over my chest.

"Because that's Mor," He muttered and a pang of hurt bloomed in my chest. My lip quivered at the words but I maintained my composure. "Listen, I'm not trying to make you sad I'm just telling you the truth," He craned his neck, stretching it out like I was tiring him out with this conversation. "Which is?" My brows raise a fraction. He opens his mouth, then shuts it again, rethinking what he was about to say.

Instead of speaking at all, he leans in and presses a light kiss to my lips, his hands coming to the back of my neck as he slants his mouth over mine. There was no passion behind it, just a move to shut me up and I was a fool to fall for it.

He kisses down my jaw, making his way to my neck where his marks from last night were already fading. His other hand finds my thigh, pushing me up against the counter and hiking up my dress. "Az," I place a hand on his chest. "Az, I don't want to have sex," I murmur, pushing him away and he backs off, confusion in his eyes because that hack has worked every time before.

"I just, I wanted you to look at me the way you look at Elain, or Gwyn, or—" I start. "Don't be ridiculous," His hands come to my cheeks as he interrupts me. "I'm not with them now am I?" He tilts his head. "No, but, you would be as soon as they called," I reason and his gaze falters because he knows I'm right.

"Don't think like that," He shakes his head. Then presses his lips to mine again, his hand returning to my thigh. "Don't think," He whispers and that sets me off. I push him away harder, sending him stumbling a few feet back. He looks at me like I've gone insane. I'm sick of it, sick of feeling so compliant when he wanted me and when he didn't. I was easy to please, and he liked easy, but he loved a challenge more.

"If you're not going to even take the time to make your girlfriend feel like she means anything to you, then," My breath hitched and a stupid smirk came across his features when I didn't finish my sentence. "Then what?" He scoffs. "You're gonna break up with me? Then when you can't find a male who fucks you better than I can you'll come crawling right back, I know how you are," He crossed his arms over his chest and I hated it. Hated that he was right. Because he was such an arrogant asshole but he was handsome and knew how to pleasure a woman. Which was rare to find in the Night Court.

"No, I'm done this time," I stand my ground. "Don't be like this," He sighed at the dramatics of it, looking up to the ceiling like I was draining him. "You always do this," He shakes his head. "I'm serious," I bite out. "Yeah, sure you are," He scoffs, unbelieving of my words as he leaves the kitchen without another word.

I'm serious. I hated being treated like this. I have a long life ahead of me, I can find someone better, perhaps go to another Court where I won't be given such limited options.

I collect my things, forgetting about the rest of my clothes in Azriel's room as I shrug on my jacket, I looked ridiculous with the oversized leather jacket over my short nightgown but I was only going home.

I gave one last look at the house before slipping out and closing the door with a particularly hard slam, making sure he heard I proudly took my leave.

My pride didn't last long before tears began to stream down my face. It was foolish to be crying over my own decision but I couldn't help it. Leaving him meant leaving the entirety of the inner circle, and as close as Morrigan and I were, she'd choose Azriel without a second thought. I knew it, she knew it, and he definitely knew it. So now I was walking through the streets of Velaris teary-eyed, hands shaking as I attempted to wipe them away but inevitably I gave up and just let them run, let myself crumble into the dejection of it all.

I had a house in the hewn city, it wasn't a home necessarily but, it would make do for a few nights until I figured myself out. I muster all of my energy and source my power, before winnowing back to the Court of Nightmares. I sigh in relief to be home, a shock to myself since this is the last place I'd ever want to be. Yet here I was, in my shitty apartment with little to live for. I slump onto the couch and curl into a ball, then just allow myself to bawl and promise myself this is the last time I’ll ever cry over the shadow singer again.

It had been a week.

Azriel was right when he said I’d crawl back to him. This sort of thing happened often, we’d argue then I’d leave until eventually I got too lonely and find my way to his doorstep, he’d take me back and we would pretend to forget about what had happened until the cycle repeated, over, and over, and over again.

But I was done this time. I promised myself I was done and I’m sticking to it. A week was the longest I had gone without going back to him so I took myself to the flower shop down the street to treat myself to something as a reward. Flowers had always brought a smile to my face. Azriel never quite understood when I’d bring him to the gardens, he didn’t see the beauty of them, the way they all lived so harmoniously with each other. So he rarely went to the flower markets with me, it especially hurt when I found out Elain and him had visited the gardens more than—

I shook my head, voiding my thoughts of the spymaster and focusing on the beauty of the white dahlias in front of me. I picked up the bouquet and went to the clerk’s cart to pay. I had visited her whenever I was in the Hewn City, so it was nice to see the familiar face.

She smiles brightly when she sees me. “Just the dahlias for today?” She asks in a raspy tone and I nod. “Yes, but I’ll most likely be back tomorrow for those daffodils tomorrow,” I say, placing five marks down on the counter. “I’ll be looking forward to it,” She says, taking the bouquet from my hands and wrapping it in a burlap paper. “My tulips bloomed this morning, they should be in stock by the end of the week,” She hinted and I grinned at her memory of my favorite flower. “A pleasure as always, Moe,” I say as she hands me the wrapped bouquet.

“Have a good day!” She calls back and I wave at her from over my shoulder before walking down the cobblestones back towards my apartment.

It was a short walk, only around the corner, I had been a few yards away from my apartment yet somehow I still managed to clumsily ram right into a wall while staring down at the flowers— no, not a wall, a male who barely even faltered as I stumbled back. "Sorry, you alright?" Warm hands come to my shoulders, steadying me. I look up to see a familiar set of amber eyes, ones that could only belong to one Eris Vanserra. "Oh, it's you," He uttered but his voice didn’t carry any distaste, only simple curiosity in his gaze. "Are you okay?" The male asks and I was surprised at the concern of his voice.

I often ran into Eris, so much so that it had become sort of a thing between us. I had never loathed him like the others, I understood him better than the rest of the inner circle who had never tried to see more than just a monster. It was clear to me that he was nothing like his father, no matter how much he tried. So clear that it had been a shock to me when Rhys didn’t understand he was only wearing a mask, even when the High Lord had to do something similar while Under the Mountain.

"I'm fine," I shrug with a hurried motion, Eris was also good at reading me, leaving me terrified that he’d somehow see right through my feigned smile. "You sure?" One of his hands left my shoulders only to lift my chin, angling it up towards him. "Who's got a pretty girl like you crying?" He tilts his head, and I blanch. How was he so good at that? I pull away from his touch and avoid his piercing gaze.

"I'm fine," I repeat. "You're a terrible liar, sunshine," He intoned.

Sunshine. A nickname that was only used to remind me that I didn't belong in the Night Court, didn't belong with the Inner Circle at all. There was no place for the sunshine in a place that thrived in darkness.

"Where's that bastard of yours, I doubt he'd like you running around the Hewn City dressed like that," He gestures to my low-cut dress, my cardigan parted just enough to reveal any excessive, albeit impressive amount of cleavage. I press the flowers to my body and a smirk grows over his lips. "He wouldn't care," I grumble. "Really?" He tilts his head. I shrug. "We broke up last week," I don't know why I told him. Some undiscovered part of me has always trusted him, so much that my actions have often betrayed my own thoughts.

"Is that right?" A smile curves his features, nothing but amusement in his tone. "You could at least pretend to feel bad," I frown.

"Why? He lost something he didn't deserve, you gained the freedom to be with someone better. It's a win in both cases, for you at least," He justifies, and a small smile tugs at my lips. "There she is," He admires and maybe it was because I was looking for revenge, or maybe it was because Eris and I had always flirted, but I couldn't help but feel this magnetic pull to the male.

"Hey, do you want to come inside?" I offer, brushing past him and walking up the steps of my apartment, he blinks in shock, I was surprised with myself just as much but I didn't show it. "Just to talk, I'll open a bottle of wine?" I added and his cool demeanor returned.

"Why not," He hummed.

"You're telling me, he did all that— then didn't even provide aftercare?" Eris said in pure disbelief and I nodded with a sigh, thinking myself stupid for letting a male treat me so poorly.

I had spilled most details of my relationship with the Shadow singer to Eris, it may have been wrong to vent to one of the male's many enemies but I owed him nothing anymore, it wasn't like Eris could do much with the details of our relationship anyway.

We sat on my couch, too small for his large legs so I was positioned with my feet in his lap, not that I was complaining once he started tracing shapes on the tops of my knees mindlessly. Eris actually listened, it hadn't been something I hadn’t experienced in quite some time. This easy conversation that made me feel like he wanted to be a part of it. Perhaps it was the three glasses of wine or the glint in his eyes, but what he said next left my head reeling.

"I have a meeting with him today, maybe I should mention it," He hummed, his tone so casual I could hardly tell if he was being serious or not.

"It hurt," I mumble, unsure if I was referring to the sex itself or how he treated me. "It shouldn't," He replies with that damned look in his eyes, reassuring every part of my turmoil. "I know," I shrug.

He doesn't reply, his eyes linger on mine, something beneath that gaze that reminded me so much of how I used to look at Azriel, a certain yearning that I've known so well it was hard to mistake it for anything else.

But before he does something he'll regret, before he gets me attached his breath catches in his throat and he suddenly stands. I look up at him curiously with creased brows.

"Well thanks for the drink, sunshine," He says. I stand, following him to the door like some dog. Was I capable of honing independence for five seconds?

"I appreciate the gesture, but I don't need to be walked out," He gives me a crooked smile, and something foreign pangs in my chest, something I hadn't even felt with Azriel. "But, it was just," I struggle to find exactly what I wanted to say. "Never mind," I sigh, spinning on my heel, angling back to the couch but he grabs my wrist and pulls me back to face him. "It's okay, use your words," he eased and I swore I didn't imagine his thumb stroke on the back of my palm.

"I was just going to ask if you wanted to help me get back at the spymaster," I utter and his brow lifts a fraction. "Are you always plotting in that pretty head of yours?" He leans against the doorway, clearly interested. "You can say no if you want—" I start. "Tell me what I have to do," he sighs and a small smile curves my lips.

"How would you feel about faking a relationship, for the sole purpose of making him mad, nothing more I promise," I say. His brows raise and his hand leaves the knob of my front door. "Why don't I come with you, to the meeting?" I propose. A grin curves his lips. "Look at you scheming," He hums and I roll my eyes. "Who do you think I learned it from?" I smile and he returns it. "Go get cleaned up then, I'll wait," He leans against the closed door and I nod, spinning on my heel and walking down into the hall.

Faking a romance with Eris had been easier than I had thought. Our touches were casual, before the others had even arrived he had his arm slung around my shoulders as if he'd been at my side for the past century. Maybe this was all to get back at Azriel, but my hand on his abdomen didn't have to be there, and I didn't have to look up at him like he stole the breath from my very lungs but it was involuntary, something that couldn't be helped when around him.

He was regal, his features sharp and his words sharper. But more importantly, he actually looked at me, looked at me like I was anything worth importance and more than just a distraction. "You nervous?" He asks, his other arm coming around my waist as I turn to him fully. Everything was so natural, whatever this tether was between us rendered any awkward tension and allowed a casual intimacy.

"No," I shake my head and I meant it, I didn't feel scared with his arms around me, his warm hands splayed over my waist as if they were meant to be there. "You think we'll be convincing enough?" He tilts his head down at me. I peer up at him through my lashes, wrapping my arms around his neck— something about him made me feel so bold, so powerful, so content.

"You want to practice?" He offers with a smirk. "It couldn't hurt," I whisper, his mouth just inches from mine. "Unless you bite," I add and his smirk widened. "Only if you want me to," He shrugs. I grab him by the back of his neck and pull him down, his lips sealing over mine with a fervent force that was unknown to me, his hands mapped my body as he slowly pushed my back into a trunk of a tree, he was entirely addicted to the way I felt, the way I tasted. He was at my mercy and entirely satisfied with the fact.

I arch up into him and he kisses me deeper, pushing me harder into the tree as his tongue swiped over my bottom lip with a needy intent. I parted my lips just wide enough for his tongue to take control, worshipping my mouth like a temple and I could only let him, knew no better but to comply because I loved it, loved the attention, the feeling of him giving me his all while I met him halfway, giving and taking.

“Gods, are you done?” A familiar voice grumbles from the distance and I freeze, Eris’s lips slip from mine, and a broad smirk breaks across his features as he turns to face two winged men, revealing me in the process.

Their eyes weren’t on Eris like mine were, they were pinned directly on me. I smile softly as Eris possessively tightens his hold around my waist, fingers digging into my skin through the material of my dress.

Cassian and Azriel continued to gawk at me, the both of them held straight expressions but their eyes didn’t leave me once, brows twinged upward in both shock and concern, as if I was in any more danger with Eris than with Azriel.

“Are we going to get this over with or are you going to continue to stare?” Eris cut through their gazes and both their eyes snapped towards him. “What’s she doing here?” Azriel seethed, crossing his arms over his chest like he always did when he was infuriated. He was so easy to read for a spymaster. Eris seemed to have recognized this too, anyone angry had little control over what they said, making Eris gain the high ground.

“We can trust her, if that’s what you’re worried about,” The male beside me retorts. Azriel only ground his teeth in reply.

The meeting had started and they began talking about politics, to which I quickly tuned out. Azriel made a few digs at me but it was nothing but a toddler lashing out over not getting what he wants.

It was amusing to watch his cool demeanor deteriorate while Eris found every weakness and dissected it with insults and remarks, I just stared up at the red-haired male with an amused grin, my arms wrapping around his torso, occasionally pressing kisses to the top of his hand that had been slung around my shoulders.

I can remember kissing Azriel’s hands, the scars, it was one of our better moments. It was a low blow to do it to Eris too but it had happened without thought, like an instinct and it made Azriel absolutely feral.

Once the meeting was over Cassian was quick to grab Azriel’s arm and tell him to winnow before he could say anything he’d regret.

“Always a pleasure Cassian,” Eris smiled to the male. “Shadow singer,” He nods his head. “If you don’t mind I’d like to leave early, we have places to be,” Eris looks at me with a smile and I return it. “Yeah enjoy my sloppy seconds,” Azriel spat and I smirked. “You’re the one who told me to find someone who could fuck better than you,” I scoff. “Don’t be jealous because I did.”

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous when I had you before you started whoring yourself around—” He started. “Az,” Cassian warned, even his brother was upset at him. It felt good to make him hurt, felt like power. Eris looked like he was about to retort, looked angry, and angry meant having little control over what you say so I placed a hand on his abdomen and he clamped his mouth shut with a low growl. He knew this was my battle, knew it should go out on my terms. However, that didn’t stop his fingertips from singing with fire.

“It’s humiliating, honestly Az,” I tease. “Don’t call me that,” He bites but I ignore him. “First you lose Elain to Lucien, and now me to his brother?” I say like it’s something to study, a truly demeaning tone. It made him furious. “Maybe you’d be better off going for girls who don’t want you,” I shrug and the spymaster snarled, Cassian winced at the indirect mention of Morrigan. “Just a suggestion,” I shrug, then look to Eris, signaling that I’m finished.

“Excuse us,” Eris flashes them a smile as he slips his warm hand into my cold one. Eris doesn’t wait for them to reply before he winnows us away, back to my apartment.

“You’re a lot more cunning than you look, Sunshine,” Eris says, his hand leaving mine in favor of coming to my cheek as I peered up at him. “I wasn’t too mean, was I?” My brows crease in worry. I wanted to get back at Azriel, sure, but I wasn’t looking to break any alliances. “There’s the girl I know,” He uttered. “I didn’t mean to be impolite— I just,” I begin to ramble until he tilts my head up manually to face him, making me seal my lips shut at the wonder in his eyes, how he looked at me the way no one has before.

“You were perfect,” He reassured. “And watching you tear him apart was awfully attractive,” He smirked. “I did not tear him— what do you mean?” I snap my head up to look at him and he shrugs. “I’m just saying, I wouldn’t have kissed you if I didn’t want to,” He shrugs. He wanted to?

“Do you, still want to?” I asked meekly with his hands on my cheeks and my heart pounding against my ribs so loud I was sure he could hear it.

“So shy,” He observes with a growing smile. “That’s okay, we can work on that,” He says like it’s a pressing issue, clearly excited to corrupt it out of me.

I rise onto my toes and crash my lips onto his, warmth blooming in the pit of my stomach at the sensation. My hands came to his jaw while he traveled down onto my waist, one finding purchase at my hip while the other came under my hip, tapping twice and indicating for me to jump. I wrap my legs tightly around his torso as he catches me.

My back bows as he leans into it, tilting my head to the side and opening my mouth for his tongue. We blindly stumbled down the hallway, he must’ve been guessing his steps because he was too busy with his lips on mine, too enamored with our kiss to ask which door was my bedroom.

He got lucky and opened the door to the master chamber, quickly closing the door behind him.

I didn’t want to waste another moment without his skin to mine, a moment without him inside of me, a moment without his hands in my hair— so I was grateful when my back met the mattress of my bed and he crawled over me, settling between my open legs, hovering above me with his hands on either side of my head.

We were both panting when he pulled away, need blazing in his eyes like a fire and I leaned closer to smother it, or get burned by it, I hadn’t decided yet.

His lips reconnected with mine and I was quick to reach for the buttons of his shirt, pulling him free from the fabric that strained against his muscular arms while he worked at the ties of my dress.

We were a tangle of limbs and needy pulls until eventually he thrashed my dress off and I unbuckled his pants. He breathed deeply as he pulled away, taking my bare body in, studying every curve and fill of my figure. Gods he looked like an animal with that glint in his eyes. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this,” He confessed, head dipping into my neck and leaving sloppy love bites trailing from my jaw to my collarbone. “You imagined this?” I murmur, attempting to tease him but it came out all too soft and innocent. “Fuck, every night baby,” He admits and my cheeks flush.

He manages to get his pants off, freeing himself from the constraints of his boxers. I nearly gasped at the sight of him because, Mother, he was huge.

“Eris I don’t think I can,” I look down at his erect member with creased brows, afraid he might split me in half.

“I know baby, it’s okay, we’ll stretch you out first,” He reassured, placing a gentle kiss on my neck and I nodded, trusting him.

“You want my tongue or fingers?” He questions and his sultry gaze leaves me wanting his lips on mine. “Fingers,” I say, only because I favored his lips when they were kissing me. I’d have to see how good he was with his tongue at a different time.

He flashed an animalistic smile before leaning down and sealing his mouth over mine, tongue immediately finding its place swirling with mine, not a battle but a dance.

He practically rips my panties off, and then two of his fingers dive into my soaked folds, my arousal lubing his hand. He smiles at the feel of me, how wet I was over just a few kisses.

His thumb made contact with my clit and I arched, a soft moan slipping from the base of my throat and he caught it with his mouth. He smirks, his fingers beginning to circle over my pulsing entrance, I ached for him, for all of him.

“Eris,” I pleaded out and that was all he needed before he sent both of his long, wide fingers into my cunt. I gritted my teeth at the stretch, holding back moans as he began to curl them expertly inside of me, flicking over that sensitive spot with ease like he knew exactly where I wanted him.

“Fuck, so good at that,” I murmur incoherently, sweat lining my brow as he continues to pleasure me with his hand alone.

His thumb returned to that delicate bud, teasingly circling it with the perfect amount of pressure. My breathing becomes heavy as a symphony of moans is pulled from my chest. There was no way to explain the feeling in my abdomen, the feeling he caused. It was engrossing and hot, so fucking hot.

He was like a furnace above my body, absorbing all the heat from the room so he could possess it, burning over me.

“Eris, I can’t s’too much,” I whisper helplessly and his hand continues to work, continuing its relentless pleasure over my pussy.

“Be a good girl and cum on my hand, alright?” He instructs and I suck in a sharp breath, feeling that orgasm pick up then tumble over that fine line. My legs jolt as I find release, doing exactly as he said and reaching my high on his fingers alone. “That’s it, just like that,” He hummed, helping me down from my climax as he pulls his fingers from my stimulated cunt.

“You think you’re ready to take me Sunshine?” He tilts his head with a caring look in his eyes, if I didn’t know any better I’d think he was being mean, but his touches were gentle and his movements were slow, hinting that if I wasn’t ready he would stop and we could go to bed now.

“I want you inside Eris,” I confess. I wanted him more than just inside. I was ready to cut myself open and allow him to dissect me, analyze me. But I’d have to settle for this connection instead. “Please,” I beg, tears at the corners of my eyes from my earlier release and he nods. “Tap me twice if it’s too much alright?” He kisses my cheek with the intimacy of lovers who have been tangled in bedsheets for decades. “Okay,” I nod.

We watch as he aligns his heavy cock with my entrance, a pearl of his pre-cum budding at his red, angry tip. He swipes himself through my folds a few times, the weight of him alone enough to satisfy. He lathers himself in my arousal, then strokes himself once, twice, until finally, he pushes his head into my aching slit. He grunts at the tight feeling and I was unsure if I was pushing him out or sucking him in.

He moves deeper, going quicker as to get the most uncomfortable part for me over with. His movements remain gentle, my fingers intertwine into his deep, auburn hair. Whiskey-colored eyes stare down at me half-lidded and it only leaves my heat sopping wet.

I swallow my moans as he reaches halfway, then deeper. He brushes over that perfect, sensitive spot then somehow goes further. I hadn’t even known it was possible to be so fucking long because by the time he had sheathed himself entirely his tip lightly kissed my cervix.

I writhed beneath him as he began to pull in and out, thrusting his hips at a leisurely pace, feeling out what made me feel good and where he was when I moaned the most. He was specializing this entirely to me and how it made me feel.

“Faster,” I panted. “Fuck, Eris I want you feral,” I plead, the tears that had been threatening at my eyes now spilling onto my cheeks, down onto the mattress below my head. He followed my instruction, picking up his pace and beginning to piston himself into me with such a maddening force that the bed began to creak against the power.

He held me tight so I didn’t move up the bed with his movements, and the sounds, the wet, lewd sounds of his cock entering me over and over sent me into a moaning mess.

“Spread your legs,” He ordered. I did as he said, going as far as I could manage. “That’s it, wider baby,” He hummed and I let out a cry of pleasure as he brushed my cervix at his next thrust, breath leaving my lungs momentarily at the feeling. He smirks at the way I squeezed him tighter. He grabbed my thighs and forced my legs apart himself, folding me in half and bringing them up to my chest, holding me in a mating press.

I whimpered at the realization that I was completely vulnerable for him, laid entirely bare and I fucking loved every second of it.

A fire roared in the hearth, the warm light making his skin practically glow with the sheen of sweat on his chest. “You’re so tight,” He grunted out in between thrusts. “You feel so good wrapped around my cock.” My pussy pulsed at that, at the unapologetic force of his shaft as he rammed into me, the dirty words, the perfect sounds that filled the room.

Eris continues to push into me, faster this time, his speed outmatched and the look in his eyes, pure lust. He leans down and trails kisses from the side of my neck, taking in the expanse and leaving it with marks and saliva. He kisses to the back of my ear, his soft whimpers inaudible if he was any farther sent me reeling, gods he whined every time he drove into me and I loved every fucking moment of it.

“All mine,” He purrs at the shell of my ear, his breath fanning over my jaw. “All yours,” I reply and he twitches at the devoting words. “No one else can fuck you this good, isn’t that right?” He hums and I mewl— because he was right, he sent me to planets of pleasure, the emotion behind each of his thrusts left me convulsing.

“Mhm,” I nod. “Best I ever had, Eris,” I pant and he smiles, nipping at my earlobe before returning his attention to rolling his hips over mine, his balls slapping against my ass as my slick drips onto my thighs.

He continues to push into me, every injection harder and deeper than the last leaving me to spiral beneath him. His base rubbed against my clit and that had been my breaking point. “Eris, I’m gonna—” I couldn’t even get the words out. “I know, me too baby go ahead,” He allowed and with his next thrust hitting my cervix I found that sweet ecstasy and it was more than just a wave of pleasure it was a tsunami, crashing down onto me with a force I thought I’d never recover from. I felt full, complete.

He followed soon after, his release pumping into me and painting my walls white, and gods he was so close to my womb I could feel his warm seed seep into my cervix while I milked his cock dry.

I pant and my legs jolt as he guides them away from my chest and slowly pulls himself from my throbbing cunt, still squeezing him in despite just experiencing the best orgasm of my life.

He flipped over onto the pillow beside me. Our pants filled the room as the fire dwindled into ash and we were left in the darkness, with nothing but the company of each other.

We lay there for only a moment before Eris left my side on the bed, pulling his boxers back up. I assume he’s going to leave now that whatever transaction this was is over, and even if I felt my heart crumbling to pieces I’d let him go. We didn’t owe each other anything, there was no reason for him to stay anymore, even if I wanted him to.

I ignored the noises of clothes ruffling and drawers opening, closing my eyes and waiting for him to leave until I got up to clean myself.

That was until warm arms came beneath my back and thighs, hoisting me up into his arms bridal style.

“What are you doing?” My brows crease, arms wrapping around his neck involuntarily. “I’m getting you cleaned up,” He explains with such a casual smile it makes my heart beat twice as fast.

He led me into the bathroom and placed me on the cool counter, the apex of my thighs aching with an already developing soreness. “Why don’t you tell me about your day?” He offers, finding a rag beneath the sink and wetting it with warm water. “You were with me for most of my day,” I mumble and he smiles at the fact. “Tell me about before, talk to me,” He says and an odd feeling begins to spread in my chest, the kind that made my cheeks flush and my head spin.

So I did. I told him about my day, how I went to the flower market and ran into a familiar face, how I invited him in for wine and it managed to end in the best sex of my life.

I also told him about how I felt when I was getting my revenge on Azriel. Told him that it made me feel powerful, but also that I was satisfied where it ended and I wasn’t interested in associating with him at all any longer.

I told stories, topics varying in length until I was sure I had been talking his ear off— but he was listening, chiming in now and then, signaling that he was still tuned in to whatever I had to say. It was healing to talk about all of this while he cared for me, his touches gentle and his calloused fingers warm. He healed internal scars with those hands.

When I cleaned myself up I wiped myself down and then changed into a nightgown before getting into bed. He took his chance to go above and beyond, he even offered a bath but I told him I was tired so he only wiped me down in touches so featherlight I would’ve missed it if I hadn’t been staring at him in the low lighting the entire time.

He brushed through my hair and made sure I was okay and safe. I had realized he was so gentle with me because of the way his father had treated women in the past, his mother in particular. Becoming a male like that seemed to be Eris’ greatest fear, which made clear why he was so soft with me. And perhaps it was also because I deserved the kindness.

“This one?” He held up my softest nightgown and I nodded, putting my arms up so he could slip it over my head. He grinned as I adjusted the dress down past my head, leaving my hair in my face, making me grin wildly. He reached out and brushed it behind my ears.

“I love that smile,” He hums and my cheeks burn with a blush. He then leans in and presses a loving kiss to my lips. I had never experienced anything quite like it and now I never wanted anything else. He pulled away, analyzing my features beneath the dim light, and if I wasn’t red from his earlier comment I definitely was now.

“Alright, let’s get you into bed,” He reached beneath my thighs and hoisted me up into his arms, carrying me back into my room and then laying me down on the soft mattress.

I sigh contentedly as he slips into the bed beside me. “Can you hold me,” I whisper, feeling confident enough around him to ask such a thing. “Was planning on it,” He smirks, wrapping his arm around my torso, and pulling me right into his chest.

I smirk excitedly, slinging my leg over his torso and wrapping my arms around the back of his neck. “I thought you were tired?” He murmured as I pecked all over his face in lazy kisses. “I don’t want to waste this,” I confess and his gaze softens. “I’ll be here in the morning,” He reassured and I swallowed thickly. “Promise?” I murmur and he nods, pressing a hard kiss on my forehead. “I promise, sunshine.” And those words sent me into the first peaceful slumber I’ve had in a while.

Eris had not been in the bed next to me when I awoke. A sense of hurt and betrayal ran through me at the sight of the empty bed. I audibly groaned in defeat, muttering curses into my pillow because last night had left me so hopeful, but I suppose what’s easy in the evening is a drag by morning.

I huff and slip from my covers, adjusting the straps of my nightgown and leaving my bedroom with small, waddling steps due to my horribly sore legs.

I continued my slow, depressing trudge until I made it into the kitchen and froze at the sight of Eris leaning over the stove, making breakfast.

“You’re going to get burned cooking shirtless,” I warn, ignoring the visible release of tension in my shoulders. Because he held up his promise, even better, he’s making me food. He whirls around to face me with a small smile. “I won’t get burned,” He scoffs, holding his hand out to the fire of the stove, the flames growing then reaching towards him and forming into a ball in his palm.

I marveled and walked closer, staring straight into the flickering ball of heat, dangerously close. “You won’t either,” He says, uncurling his fingers and allowing the fire to stretch into a line of flames leading from me to him. My breath hitched as the flame came into contact with my skin but it didn’t burn, in fact, it barely even tickles. The serpent of fire twines around my wrist, dancing along my skin and I smile, looking up at him excitedly like I was the one controlling it.

“See? You’re safe,” He says then retracts the flames and feeds them back into the fire at the stove. Safe. That was the feeling that’s been filling that pit in my stomach.

“Now, you hungry?” He tilts his head and I look up at him in wonder, why was I ever settling for less when I could have everything I ever wanted with him?

I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my lips hard onto his, attempting to show my gratitude through the action, my chest pressing to his as his arms came around me, heating my frame as I exposed my fragile heart to him and he returned the movement with the same tenderness. “I’ll take that as a yes.” He mumbled against my mouth, making me smile giddily up at him.

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[acotarxreader]

Jilted

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: The morning of your wedding your fears are enforced by an old way of thought, sending you running and Azriel to cope with the aftermath but will a reunion set you both back on the path you should both be living?

Warnings: Angsty

A/N: Right, you may find yourself hating Reader for a bit but I tried my best convey the panic and pressure.

-------------------------------------------------------

“I can't do this I can't do this I can't do this”

“Shh YNN you'll be fine! This is what you want!” Mor caught you in her arms, your train half tangling your feet. You cried into her chest, not caring if your make-up was streaming down your face, your sister and maid of honour rocking you gently.

“YN, come on sweetie, it's just pre-wedding jitters, happens to most, Azriel will be waiting to see his beautiful bride!”

“Mor it's too soon! I was going to be a writer! Go off and live on the continent, I have never even been! There's still so much I want to go and do!”

“And you will! You will YN! You and Az will do that together and more! Marriage isn't going to change that!”

“You're right, you're right” You pulled from her, rubbed under your eyes and sat back down at the vanity. You looked into the mirror at the person you hardly recognised and silently went about reapplying your makeup.

“You look beautiful YN” You could only nod at her, afraid if you opened your mouth again it would set off a series of unfortunate events.

“I’m going to go check on Azriel” She gave you a smile before ducking out of the pastel room, leaving you alone. You steadied your breathing, batting your tears away with your lashes before they could fall further.  You loved Azriel, he was your life force, saved you from yourself and you returned the same to him. He was your everything. These thoughts brought ease to you. You ran a soft hairbrush through your flowing locks, a smile beginning to reappear on your face.

“Oh you look lovely my child” The sound of a weathered female's voice came up behind you, causing you to jump slightly. She was of pure Illyrian blood, a representative of a dying way of thought, a relic in her own right, Azriels only remaining relative he was in contact with.

“Thank you, Elena” You found your head bowing slightly to her, unsure of why, you out-ranked her and yet you felt the pressure of the millennia of the institution she represented weigh on you. 

“You're going to make a wonderful wife YN” She almost snaked up behind you as quietly as she entered the room as you watched her in the reflection. You tried not to stare at the clipped tattered wings that hung from the female, she tucked them in as if noticing your glance. 

“I just know you'll keep him a nice life”

“What do you mean?” You turned to face the skeletal woman, her bone-chilling words wrapping around your lungs.

“Well, I mean being the wife of a powerful Illyrian of course! And just think YN when the children come along you'll be so busy raising the next generation of warriors! Not much time for other things but what could be more important than the bloodline? Azriel is a hard worker, I know he'll provide in tenfolds” She smiled as if she wasn't throwing a live grenade, it began to smoke as the pin was pulled from it inside your head. You could feel your chest compressing further with the strangling tradition.

“Well, Az and I will be both working and you know we won't be having offspring until after we travel and even then we'll both be looking after them” You tried to calm yourself down but her shrill laughter put a quick stop to relief you had from your own words.

“Oh, my child don't we all think that! You're marrying an Illyrian, bastard born or not-” the words cut you, anger replacing anxiety for a moment until she continued “-He can’t suppress the urges of his blood. His life partner will be malleable, mute and well-behaved, does what is expected of her. Azriel has other things to be doing for his Court than raising children, female work” 

“I-” You couldn’t find the words through the magma-thick matter-of-fact speech she choked you with. 

“-Well, I must go make myself useful elsewhere child” Her crochet-hook-like fingers dug into your shoulders with a squeeze before she turned and left you in the solitude of your room once more. 

You could feel the air rush from your lungs as you fought to stop the oxygen from evaporating from your blood. You stood, pacing, blood rushing to your face as you stumbled on the train of your dress, hitting the carpet with unforgiving force. You lay for a moment on the carpet, hands splayed out in front of you, your engagement catching the light like you loved. It suddenly feeling much too tight. 

“Gods! Fuck! I can’t do this!” You stood on rattling knees, grabbing things frantically from the dresser before you could fully become cognisant of the actions.

You moved quickly and carefully through the door and into the empty hallway, avoiding the directions where laughs leaked out, them falling like battle cries in your ears. 

You reached the stone steps of the venue with quiet desperation, your adrenaline and anxiety now fully controlling your body as you bolted down the path, half stumbling. You whipped around to look back up to the hill where the hall of your friends and family waited for the blushing bride, tears claiming your face as their own as you dashed into the streets of Velaris before anyone inside became the wiser.

—----------

Funerals are a strange thing. They do strange things to people. You thought this as you stood at the back of a hall you had not been inside in almost 70 years, thought about how the female they were saying goodbye to today shook your entire life up like it was nothing. You looked around and imagined it the week after you left, the day you left, the hour after you left. You thought of the moments you missed with your chosen family since you fled the Night Court and all its wonderful attributes, you pushed the guilt you had been fighting ever since then back down

From the back row, your eyes landed on the backs of the three Archeron sisters, their stories meeting you on your travels around the globe. You smothered the smile that toyed at your mouth, the thoughts of your friends happy and in love warming you. Your gaze landed on the the back of Azriels head as it hung in respect. Too much, this was too much, you couldn’t deal with him seeing you. As you had 70 years previously, you slipped from the hall without anyone noticing. 

You were met with the warm Spring sun, a beautiful day in Velaris, as they all were. You wandered down the unforgiving steps, your name from a familiar voice stopping you.

“Yn?” 

“Mor!”

“Yn!” She ran down the steps, taking you in her arms, the feeling of home rushing to you. You were so happy to hold your sister having worked through the issues that arose from your wedding day. At first, she rightfully iced you entirely but after two decades of silence, she reached out, asking to reconnect, missing her sister in the fray and yet you always found an excuse to not come home. 

“Yn I'm so happy you're back! You came back for the funeral?”

“Yeah I did, felt I needed to”

“Yeah I mean I suppose they were almost your family too” she smiled before realising her words and apologising, a weak smile grew on your face in acceptance of the throwaway comment. The two of you continued down a winding road away from the groups leaking out of the hall.

“So how long are you here?”

“Just the weekend, I have meetings on Monday, I’m staying at our old apartment, remember?”

“Oh yes! Just a flying visit so, the busy life of a successful big-time author I suppose”

“Oh yeah, I'm plagued with the title” you laughed, finally meeting the Sidra as it coursed, its glimmering water making you smile.

“Yeah, your success really boomed after leaving here” She almost sounded sad before beaming at you again and catching your hands in hers.

“I guess, I missed you though, I missed the Night Court”

“And Azriel?” The name struck pure pain into your heart, as if seeing the back of his head in the hall wasn't bad enough, hearing his name was almost catastrophic, you only nodded.

“Well, he misses you too YN” She squeezed your hands.

“He doesn't, he couldn't, not after what I did to him Mor” She looked at you with sympathy, looking back up the street you just walked down. 

“I have to get back, they’ll be looking for me” You gave her an understanding smile 

“Meet me for a drink later in Rita’s, we have so much to catch up on” as she kissed your cheek goodbye with her words before returning back up the street to the hall again.

You looked out over the Sidra, an empty plot of land ripping through your heart. It was there where you and Azriel were going to build, it still stayed empty. A mausoleum to your relationship. You peeled your eyes from it, looking elsewhere around the city you adored, deciding to spend the remainder of your evening re-acquainting yourself with it. 

-

Night fell in the city of stars as you found your way towards the Town House by muscle memory alone. You felt so alive being back, more alive than any amount of travel or success ever brought you. You leaned against the fence, waiting happily for your sister.

“Y-Yn?” his face dropped, his voice alone causing you to bite the inside of your mouth to almost bleed. The red flush from your walking was gone from your face growing pale at the sight of him standing on the other side of the street. He crossed slowly as if any sudden movement would send you running.

“H-Hi Az-Azriel, you look - you look well” 

“Thank- what are you doing here YN?” tones of confused sadness left Azriel, the anger towards you he felt so many years ago unable to be conjured back at will. He thought about this moment so often and yet, he couldn’t think of a single thing he’d said in those imaginary encounters.

“I-I’m meeting Mor, I-”

“Azriel, hey there you are!” The small beaming brunette Fae seemingly came from nowhere to his side, her hand tucking into his so effortlessly. You pushed every yearning thought from your head and plastered a smile onto your face that didn’t fully meet your eyes. 

“Maya, go tell Mor her sister is here, I’ll meet you inside” She raked her eyes up your and down your full body with such subtle brutality before kissing Azriel’s cheek goodbye, sauntering up the path to the house. 

“She seems nic-”

“She is” He almost bit, his eyes felt like daggers on your skin.

“I-”

“-What are you doing here YN?” his tone matched his eyes.

“I just came for the funeral”

“And now what?”

“I’m meeting Mor and then heading to our old place to stay” “And then?” “Then, I’m heading back to the continent” You weren't sure why you were answering, you suppose you owed him that much, the heat of his eyes making you feel vulnerable.

“I heard your writing is doing pretty well there, pretty well everywhere”

“Yeah”

“Hope it was worth it YN” Words like fire burning you all over, and yet you felt you deserved worse. He sighed when you didn't respond before pushing past you, following the path Maya had just trotted up.

“It wasn't," you said the words before you knew what you were saying, back towards him before looking over your shoulder, now fully meeting his eyes. He looked as though he was going to say something but Mor came flying out her front door.

“Sorry I'm late YN I was- oh, sorry am I interrupting something?”

“No Mor, I was just leaving” and then he did. Gone again.  

“How did that go?” Mor looped her arm through yours, prying you from leaning on the wall to head down the street again.

“Fine” you tried a smile and failed.

“You met Maya”

“Always one for sensitivity Mor” You smiled at your sister and she was instant apologies.

“I’m sorry, I forgot they were coming over tonight… Maya isn't anything like you if that helps. He went a bit off the walls when you left. Cassian thinks he's going to propose to that tonight, hope he's all wrong. He's totally settling especially since Rhys and Cass have their mates now. She's nothing like you and I think he knows that, just ignoring it. It's kinda sad and- oh hey YN I didn't mean to make you cry” she said the words like throwaway gossip, forgetting her audience only to have your rising tears land her back to earth. 

“No no it's okay Mor, I'm just going to go home”

“Aw come on, I'm sorry!” you stopped on the path, her soft eyes giving you no comfort. 

“Not as sorry as I am Mor” You took off then, in the direction of your old shared house.

-

You lay in your bed, rain threatening to come through the slate roof. Tossing and turning you finally decided to get up and wander your old house you had with Mor before meeting Azriel. Looking in drawers filled with old pictures, ones of you when you were a kid, playing with the Mor. More recent ones of you with Rhys, Cassian and Azriel,  Azriels arm draped around you. You ran your fingers over the tarnished picture, a tear dripping onto the film before you tucked it back into the worn drawer. 

You meandered through the living room, stopping at the old mahogany press. You knew what was in there and you didn't want to see it. Looking at that engagement ring again would be the end of you.

A loud banging came drumming against the door causing you to jump from the crushing thought. You wrapped the dressing gown tighter around yourself before opening the door to see the tormented, rain-soaked Illyrian before you. He waited for no invitation before blowing in past you, the cold leaking from him.

“I COULDN'T DO IT!”

“Do what Azriel?! What's wrong?!”

“I couldn't ask Maya to marry me! There's fucking caution tape around my heart because of you! I would have been fine if you had just left me alone to wallow in anger all those years ago I would have been fine! But No! I just had to fuck around and get attached to you!” He threw his arms in the air, words hot with anger. 

“You're blaming me for loving you?!” You found his words caused you your own irritation.

“Yeah! Yeah I am! You just had to pay attention to me! You just had to care about me! You just had to-”

“Had to what?! Had to love you!” you couldn’t believe you snapped out the words as they floated to his ears. 

“YEAH! AND YOU JUST HAD TO LEAVE ME!” Knives to your mind would have been less painful, he almost rattled in anger, a mere metre away from you, his shadows vibrating at his feet in anger. 

“I had to leave Azriel I wasn't ready!”

“YOU COULDN'T HAVE SAID THAT TO MY FACE!? BECAUSE YOU COULD HAVE! ANYTHING WOULD HAVE BEEN BETTER THAN STANDING UP ON THAT FUCKING ALTER WAITING FOR YOU!” his arms raised in the air with his words, causing you to flinch slightly. 

“Azriel-”

“When we were together what was the thing you always said to me?! It was that you wouldn't leave me, that you wouldn't abandon me like everyone else. YOU SAID YOU WOULDN'T AND YOU FUCKING DID!”

“I know Az I know” you were crying now, throwing yourself back on the couch, floods of memories of those very conversations threatening to drown you.

“You know?! Then why did you do it! The truth!”

“Elena came to me before the wedding and said all this stuff about what a wife should do and be and how I wasn't going to have time to write anymore and all the kids would be left to me and I wasn't ready! I WASN'T READY FOR THAT KIND OF PRESSURE THE ILLYRIANS WERE PUSHING ON ME!”

“YEAH! THE ILLYRIANS NOT ME! I NEVER EVER SAID ANYTHING LIKE THAT! NEVER EVEN THOUGHT IT!” you buried your head in your hands at his shouting, the action sending a ping of regret through Azriel but the repressed rage he felt towards you had to get out.

“You hurt me YN YLN. The wedding bells were just alarms to you”

“I don't know what to say but I want you to know that I understand that you hate me, I'll leave tomorrow, Ill go!” you swept the tears from your face, feeling you didn’t deserve to have them, the maker behind this mess.

“I missed you” his words completely caught you off guard as you brought yourself to look at him once again, his wild wrathful eyes replaced by utterly heartbroken ones.

“I miss you and I shouldn't. I can't move on from you! I haven't slept properly since you left! Every damn night it's a new nightmare and then I wake up and you're not there like you used to be and it's a different kind of nightmare! I miss you being there next to me at the dinner table, at Rita’s, at stupid fucking court functions, just doing absolutely fuck all with you! The number of times I thought about contacting you, visiting you, the amount of letters I wrote and never sent-” It was the first time he hadn't had a raised voice since he came into the house but being faced with the fallout of your actions in his ice tone made you miss the screaming to some degree.

“I'M SORRY! I AM WHAT ELSE CAN I SAY!” you found yourself shouting back, anything to deafen your inner voice.

“Do you miss me?” his icy tone melted slightly at your unfamiliar raised voice.

“Yes” you stood again from the sofa. 

“I'm with Maya”

“I know”

“But she's not you”

“No”

“I hate you YN" The words hurt every inch of your body, every cell felt searing unwavering pain, the sentence you never thought you’d hear him say. The familiar feeling of your lungs being strangled beat in your chest, unable to recover from the mortal wound.  You did what you did best and ran, out the door and into the rain-soaked Velarian streets.

“YN stop!” he followed you quickly as you made it halfway down the street, he would not have you slip from him again.

“No! I hurt you! I broke you and myself in the process all for selfish reasons and I still love you Azriel!” you went to run again but his firm hand on your forearm stopped you, spinning you to face him as his wild face dripped in rain.

“I hate that I love you YN”

“What?” you said softly over the thundering rain. Azriel looked from your face to over your shoulder. You turned to follow his eyes down the street, the plot of land haunting the other side of the Sidra.

“You ever wonder what we could have been? We were supposed to live there after we got married, we'd probably have kids and all now” his tone had softened at the sight of the overgrown plot.

“Yeah, we probably would” You stood next to him looking at the patch of home, you gave a weak smile.

“But you might not have your successful career”

“I'd have you, that would be worth more”

“You don't mean that YN”

“I do” he turned to completely face you then.

“Never thought I'd hear you say those words” You bit your lip and you could have sworn Azriel fought a slight smile at your discomfort.

“You should go propose to Maya -” Your mouth was betraying your heart “- And I should leave and live the life I chose because I can't be around the life I should be living”

“Do you think you'd want to live it if I gave you the choice now?” his eyes searched yours, fully softening for the first time since he landed on the doorstep. 

“I do”

“Yn I hate you and I love you but mostly I just hate that I love you” He felt no longer in control of his urges, leaning into you as he took hold of your soaked hips and leaned down to kiss swirls of what should have been and what could have taking you both over.

15 years later.

You lay down in the sun of the wildflower garden, your eyes took rest in the warm glow of the sun, taking a moment of rest after months of traveling with your new novel. 

“ARGH!” You shrieked at the rush of cold water soaking you down to your skin. 

“Azriel!” you bolted from where you lay, chasing your husband who clutched the hose down the length of the garden, only to be stopped dead by his sudden decrease in velocity. 

“Big mistake YNN” You looked at him puzzled only to hear the roaring laughter of your two children launch out of the hedges and armed with water balloons that they doused you with, gaining more screams of pure unadulterated joy. You collapsed to the grass as they overwhelmed you with their hysterics, climbing all over you, Azriel watching on so lovingly, so whole.

----------------------------------------------------------------------

I promise the next fic will be more silly goofy! Let me know what you think!

[notbecauseofvictories]

Longtime follower and I love seeing your insights, so wondered if you had thoughts or advice on this:

I live alone and I'm not in a relationship, though I do date. I'd say ninety percent of the time I really enjoy my life, seven percent I'm a bit sad or annoyed about not having a partner yet, and three percent I get tossed into the Pit of Despair. That three percent can be tied into hormonal cycles, bad timing, etc - even when I know the cause, it still needs to be lived through. Has that happened with you? If so, how do you manage it? I do okay, but it feels like I could do better.

Ah, but the Pit of Despair and I are best friends now. I've sent pictures from the Pit, all featuring me with an absolutely humorless, rictus grin, which does make me wonder why no one else has noticed yet. I have a timeshare in the Pit of Despair. I spend some time there every six months or so, standing in the middle of my impossibly overgrown, dingy garden, and thinking to myself, how did I get here? how do I get out?

And then, as though endurance isn't enough...then your timeshare in the Pit ends. You emerge in the daylight and immediately forget how grey and hopeless that garden was, the weirdly stained, collapsing furniture in the corner and the crooked yellowing plants and that mean laughter you could sometimes hear over the sounds of waving grass. You think to yourself: that will never happen again! I am free! I am cured!

(This will feel so much worse, the next time you're shoved back into the stupid garden.)

That said, I don't think you're going to like my answer to your next question. This is because I don't like my answer; unfortunately, it remains the only answer I have to this question.

I think having some unsettled sorrow, just a touch of existential despair, is the best we can hope to do in this life.

I think that with both rueful humor and deep, deep disgust, which is typically the combo I bring to musings about being a person. Of course it's a little funny---look at the monkey, it's got anxiety!---and of course it's also frustrating, unspeakable outside of bitter cursing, a problem that will not be fixed because quite frankly it's built too deeply into us to be cut out cleanly and thrown away.

(Look at the fucking monkey, you can tell yourself through gritted teeth, standing in that horrible garden with weeks of dirty dishes in the sink and an inbox of emails and friends blowing up your phone with plans you hate to even think about. It's got anxiety.)

I do not have a cure for this. I manage it with the same sort of humor and ruefulness and bitterness that I mentioned above---I don't beat myself up anymore, when I realize I'm standing in the horrible garden again. I know it too well. Sometimes it has an okay wifi connection? I watch some movies. I get done what I can, and forgive myself the rest. I have been here before; I will get out again. I just need to be patient.

Once I'm out, there will be a whole world, I know there will---full of music I haven't heard before and stories that won't make me cringe and emails I will respond to with ease and conversations where I can be light, amusing even. There is a world beyond the Pit. There is always a world beyond the Pit, I just can't find my way back sometimes.

In the meantime, I take another terrible picture in front of the stained furniture, and caption it "Hello from the Pit!!!" with a bunch of exclamation points to indicate that it's a joke, even though it isn't.

I wait.

[badxwolf]

I genuinely don’t think anything will ever top the feeling of watching the Doctor and the other Doctor and Rose and Jackie and Mickey and Martha and Donna and Jack and Sarah Jane fly the Earth home in Journey’s End. That episode came out fifteen years ago and I have yet to find any other moment of a movie or TV show that makes me feel quite so brilliantly joyful. And I am completely okay with that.

[neteyamsyawntu]

⚠️WARNING: RANT/GENERAL PSA AHEAD⚠️

I can’t believe I even have to come on here and say this, but let’s get one thing absolutely straight; racists and bigots do not belong in this fandom. You can take one look at the Na’vi, glorify and obsesses over their fashion, over their hairstyles, arguably their facial features too, when this fictional race is very clearly inspired from not only African likeness, but also numerous indigenous groups across the world. At the end of the day the physical and even some of the cultural attributes you like about the Na’vi are in these different cultures and groups of people, yet you see no problem being disgusting and nasty to them and talk down to them just for being another skin color than you?? Make it make sense.

‼️Sensitive content under the cut‼️

I want to briefly make a disclaimer that this ask was not sent to me, but was sent to another blogger in this fandom BY another Avatar fan. I am so utterly appalled that anyone, fandom or not is using this sort of language WITH ANYONE. The audacity to come into this fandom that is supposed to have the ideology of respecting those who are different than ourselves and then saying some shit like this to another person in the fandom??? Undeniably disgusting and heartbreaking.

If you think shit like this is okay, then promptly see yourself out, I’ll even hold the door open for you and shut it when you leave.

We are better than this and we stronger than this hate.

✊🏻✊🏽✊🏾✊🏿

[lucienarcheron]

Death By a Thousand Cuts but it’s Lucien reminding himself that it’s okay, he’ll be fine eventually. What’s another cut or another heartbreak? He’s survived this long. He’ll be alright. He’s a fox. He’s a gentleman. He’s the jack of all trades that people constantly underestimate. And really, what’s another disappointment? He’ll be fine. He will take all his pain, all his resentment, all that stress, and all that loneliness and yearning and shove it deep, deep down where no one can touch it or see it. He makes sure he dresses well to kill his time and he’s most definitely lost his way home. But he can pretend he’s okay even when he’s not. Even when he’s bleeding from places nobody can see. He’ll be alright, it’s just a thousand cuts.

[from-the-clouds]

texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. viii

series masterlist | series playlist | writing masterlist | previous chapter |

chapter summary: Both you and Joel feel there is no use in keeping secrets anymore. pairing: pre-outbreak!joel miller x f!reader words: 5.4k chapter warnings: SMUT, 18+ ONLY. References to absent/abusive parents, alcohol and marijuana mention. A little angst but mostly fluff. As always please dm if you have questions. a/n: If you got notified I posted this at 3am accidentally, no you didn't. this isn’t even a long chapter but i fought with it so much because i was terrified it wouldn’t live up to the hype. Like….everything has been building to this one and I don’t know if it feels right. I love crippling self-doubt. I love being insane! I’m fine. 

-July 9, 2003-

Joel is falling in love. 

He doesn’t know it yet. That’s how love works, right? No one can really pinpoint the exact moment it happens. Most of the time, it’s recognized in hindsight.

What he does know is that you love Sarah. Do you love him? He’s not sure yet. Right now, it almost doesn’t matter. Of course you would love her first. He imagines – he knows – how easy it is to love her. So, he can’t fault you for that. And it’s all that matters. Every other relationship he’s been in has lacked this one critical element. Including his relationship with her own mother. 

Now, he feels there is no use in keeping secrets. He can trust you. He knows Sarah likes you. It all makes sense. 

But he is worried about you. It’s been a few days since the fair, and he hasn’t heard from you. He had seen something from you that so rarely surfaced. Vulnerability. As much as you had tried to hide it behind clenched fists and a sharp tongue – you had been scared. Not just in the moment, but after. Scared to show any weakness, scared to let him in. Maybe you were ashamed, and maybe he’d pushed you too far afterwards. But all he wants is for you to realize that with him, you are safe. 

Joel gets out of his truck and slams the door shut, looking over at your house out of habit. The blinds are shut, your garage closed. It’s six o’clock. He’s home earlier than usual, but he’s used to a different view. Front door hanging open, with warm light beckoning through sheer curtains. He has stood in this very spot and watched Sarah from a distance as she comes back home, the sounds of your combined laughter reaching his ears even from across the street. Where have you been? He wonders. 

Once he’s inside, he doesn’t bother getting too comfortable. Sarah’s at a pool party, and he has to pick her up within the hour. It’s not enough time for him to bother with showering, but he does make himself a peanut butter sandwich for dinner. All that’s left of the loaf is the two end pieces. He needs to go to the store. 

He sits at the kitchen table to eat. Sarah’s only gone for the day, but he wonders why his house feels so big and empty without her. For two weeks she had been away at camp, and he hadn’t felt this lonely. It takes him a moment to realize it’s because he had spent all his time with you. 

The sound of the phone ringing interrupts his sulking, and he answers without checking the caller ID. It’s probably a vendor. Another delayed shipment. “This is Joel.” 

“Hey, Joel.” It’s you. 

“Hey,” Even though you aren’t physically here, he straightens up, wipes his mouth with the paper towel he’s using as a napkin. “How’s it going?”

“I’m good,” you say, your voice sounds….light. Normal. He hears phones ringing in the background. “How are you? How is Sarah doing?”

“I’m good,” he says. “And she’s good.”

“I’m glad,” you begin. “Listen, I uh, I feel like I’ve been MIA the last few days. Work’s been crazy, I’m actually still at the office right now. But I wanted to call you….I’ve uh….I’ve missed hearing your voice.”

Joel feels his shoulders sag in relief. “I missed hearin’ yours.”

You hum softly. “Are you around this weekend? I’d like to see you.”

“I’d like that.” Joel sighs. “I’ll be around. I could make you dinner.”

You don’t answer right away. Joel strains to hear, but all he can make out is keyboards clacking faintly in the distance. “Can….can you make dinner? Like physically. Is that possible?”

Joel looks down at his half-eaten, all-crust peanut butter sandwich. It’s not a very good indicator of his abilities. Maybe you’re right. Nevertheless. “I’ll have you know, I make a mean macaroni and cheese.”

“If it’s from a box, that doesn’t count.”

‘It should, though,” Joel defends. “That’s basically all Sarah and I eat.” 

“Oh, god,” you laugh. “Have you had your blood tested for nutritional deficiencies? Because I’m concerned for your health.” 

“Yeah, actually, I have and I got an A…plus.”

The line is silent again for much longer. Joel thinks the call might’ve dropped, so he says your name. “Hello?”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Of course I’m joking.”

You giggle. “Okay, just making sure,”  you sigh, then add. “We have the same blood type.”

“Guess that’s serendipity,” Joel says. 

“Well, I think you’ve made me go soft….“ you groan. “But I’ll eat your boxed macaroni and cheese if it makes you happy.” 

“It will.” 

Joel leaves the conversation feeling reassured. Truthfully, he’s not sure what he’d call you, if someone asked. He’s never asked you to be his girlfriend, but he knew you were only seeing each other. There had been that other guy, whose name he didn’t care to remember, but Joel had asked you about him in a moment of weakness while Sarah was away at camp, and you hadn’t hesitated. There’s no one else. It’s just you. A confession whispered while you were laid bare and pliant beneath him, his hand resting lightly, but still possessively – over your throat. 

This dinner is reasonably the next step. It’ll be a good opportunity to let you know he’s going to tell Sarah. To make sure you are on the same page. And then he can sit down with her and have the talk alone. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Hey Dad, can I ask you something?” 

It’s later in the evening, and Joel is mindlessly flipping through channels on the TV when Sarah enters the living room from the kitchen. She stands with her hands clasped, shifting from foot to foot. Noticing her body language, he leans forward and hits the mute button. 

“Yeah, what’s going on, babygirl?” 

“Before camp….you went on a couple dates. Are you still seein’…whoever that was?”

Joel hesitates a minute. This is a conversation they’ve only ever had a handful of times before, but rarely initiated by Sarah. “Uh, yeah…sweetheart but uh….it’s been a little. We’re both busy people.” 

Sarah studies him for a moment, and it’s hard to recognize the look in her eyes. “What makes you ask?” Joel prompts. 

“Just curious,” she shrugs. “You uhm…you seem…happier. More relaxed.”

Joel’s face feels warm. “Yeah, she’s….she’s pretty great.” 

“Will I get to meet her?”

You already have, he wants to say. And he should just tell her now. Get it out of the way. But if he tells her the truth without letting you know first, it feels like it will make the already messy situation even messier. “Eventually,” he nods. 

“Cool,” His daughter smiles at him, but he sees the way her shoulders remain slumped. Sarah crosses the room to sit next to him on the couch. “Can we watch a movie?” she changes the subject.

“Sure,” Joel gets up to look at their collection of DVDs, thumbing over them and listing off some of her favorites. “Let’s see….Scooby Doo, Bend It Like Beckham, Clueless….” When she doesn’t answer right away, Joel looks over his shoulder to see her curled up,  head turned to stare out the front window. “Sarah? Any of those sound good?”

“What?” she turns back towards him. “Bend It Like Beckham? I haven’t watched that in awhile.”

Joel pulls the movie from the shelf and puts it in the DVD player. When he sits back on the couch she lies down and puts her head on his knee. He knows she’ll be out within minutes.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-July 11,2003-

Standing on the front porch of Joel’s house, you realize you feel more calm in this moment than you have all week – and you haven’t even seen him yet. The prospect of spending time with him alone is enough. 

You don’t even need to fake your smile as the door wins open – it happens on its own accord. But as soon as it comes, it falls away when you are met with – 

“Sarah?” 

It’s her name, but it sort of sounds like it’s a question. You force the smile back onto your face because looking shocked is the opposite of what you want to do. Where is Joel? Are you early? Incredibly, incredibly late? Your heart rate picks up, as you rack your brain for something to say. Some kind of excuse, some kind of explanation. 

“Uhm…I uh, I was wondering if I could uh, borrow a….drill? I’m uh….assuming your dad has one, right? I have this picture….that I’m hanging.”

“Oh yeah,” Sarah nods, lets you step inside, but she only backs up a few steps, and stays facing you. Her chin tilts, giving you a once-over. It’s then you remember what you look like. You’ve styled your hair, you’ve put on makeup. She crosses her arms. ”You look pretty.”

“Oh, thanks,” you nod. “So do you.”

“Are you goin’ somewhere after you hang your picture?”

You shrug, like you don’t know what she’s getting at, and then shake your head. “Maybe.”

Her eyes narrow, but her lips curve up just a little. 

“It’s you, isn’t it?” 

“I’m sorry…” you play dumb. “What?”

“My dad’s date. It’s you.”

The thing is, you’ve been so tied up in keeping the secret from Sarah, and feeling guilty about keeping the secret from her, that you haven’t really thought of what could happen when she found out. And when you did, the idea of the worst case scenario – her rejection, made you feel sick to your stomach. 

Directly in front of her, she looks at you dead-on. Everyone has a different definition of what lying is. Deflecting, dismissing, are fine in your eyes but….denying? Especially when the question being asked is so….direct? That would be lying. And sure, you’re not even above that sometimes. But you can't lie to Sarah, regardless of the consequences.

You take a deep breath. “Look, Sarah I wanted to tell you, but-”

“Oh my god, I knew it!” she punches your arm at first. You reach to quell the ache it leaves behind, but before you can, she throws her arms around your neck and squeezes you tightly. 

“Thank God it’s you.” Slowly, your arms raise to return the hug, but you’re really at a loss of words. Her voice is muffled against the shoulder of your shirt. “I’ve never wanted to be right about something so bad in my life.”

“Sarah,” you hear Joel’s voice call from upstairs, and she pulls back. “Is that you I hear downstairs? I thought Emily was supposed to pick you up a half hour ago!” 

Sarah keeps her eyes on you, grinning widely as she answers. “She’s running late.”

“Well, babygirl, I’ve gotta-” Joel’s footsteps pause on the landing, and you look up to see him staring at you both. He looks like a deer trapped in headlights, and you see his expression shift through every possible emotion – concerned, fearful, regretful, apologetic, but by the time Sarah turns to face him with her arms crossed, it’s gone blank.

“Is there something you want to tell me, Dad?”

Joel looks at you, as if you can somehow get him out of this situation. All you have to do is raise your eyebrows. She knows. He rolls his shoulders back and looks up at the ceiling, taking a deep inhale, then drops his gaze to his daughter. “I was gonna tell you soon. Probably later tonight I had to talk to-” he gestures to you, then pinches his temples. 

“I knew it,” she repeats herself.

Joel makes a skeptical face, easing the rest of the way down the stairs. “No you didn’t.” 

“No, I did,” she smiles. “I always thought you had a crush or somethin’, and then I saw the way you were looking at her last weekend, and you were so weird yesterday when I brought up the fact that you were going on dates, and you’ve kept the house way too clean, and-”

“Okay, fine!” Joel cuts her off, and you see his cheeks flush slightly, like he’s embarrassed. “You knew it. I believe you.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Sarah elbows you.

“I asked her not to,” Joel defends. “We were figuring things out.” 

She backs down, then looks between you. 

“Everything good?” Joel asks. “Everyone happy?” 

Sarah nods, then grins. “Good.” Joel wraps an arm across each of your shoulders and pulls you against his chest. Then he plants a kiss on the top of both of your heads. 

Outside, a car horn honks. 

“That’s Emily,” Sarah mumbles, her cheek smushed up against Joel’s bicep, and he loosens his grip, but still keeps you both close. “Will you be here when I get home?” Sarah asks, looking at you.

“I can be.” 

“When’s curfew?” Joel asks. A test. 

“Ten-thirty,” Sarah says confidently. 

“Good,” he says, patting her shoulder. “Have fun. We’ll see you when you get home.”

Sarah grins and gives you one more quick hug before bounding outside. Both you and Joel watch her get into the car through his screen door. You turn to him first after the car backs out of the driveway. 

“Well,” you cluck your tongue. “So much for sneaking around.” 

“I’m so sorry,” Joel covers his face with his hands and groans. “You don’t understand. I had this whole plan tonight to cook you dinner and talk to you about this. I wanted to see if it was okay before I told her but I had no idea her friend was running late and I should’ve-”

“Joel,” you interrupt.

“I just wanted to do one thing right.”

“Joel,” you repeat his name, reach out and put a hand on his arm. “Best laid plans. It’s alright. Really.” 

“You’re not mad?”

You shake your head vehemently, give him a gentle smile. He pulls you back against him and kisses you tenderly, hands on either side of your face. “I’m just glad she’s not mad,” you confess. “I thought she’d hate me once she found out.”

“I knew she wouldn’t.” He chuckles. “She loves you.”

If he had known she wouldn’t be upset, you wonder why Joel would want you to keep it a secret? What revelation did he have that suddenly made him okay with it? Maybe he’s trying to tell you something right now. Without saying it. So do I. 

Before the kiss gets too heated, Joel pulls away. You’re led into the kitchen, where he pours you both glasses of chilled white wine, and you sit at the counter, chatting with him about his day while he cooks you chicken alfredo.

“I felt like if I was going to talk to you about this….kind of serious thing, we shouldn’t be eating a meal made primarily for college students and five-year-olds,” he explains. There’s a piece of hair falling onto his forehead. You gravitate closer to him, sipping your wine and leaning back against the counter to study him carefully.  

“Dang,” you reach out, pushing his hair back away from his face. “This whole week I kept seeing traffic cones and craving boxed macaroni.”

“Well you might still get to eat it,” he laughs. “Because I have no idea how this is gonna turn out.”

“I’m sure it will be alright,” you assure him. “Thanks for taking such good care of me.” He gives you a sweet smile in response, and you relish in it – press your cheek against his shoulder, and hold it there for a moment, looking down with him at the stovetop.

It’s a milestone, of sorts. Sarah knows about you. And from everything Joel’s told you, not everyone he is with gets that privilege. Even if he’s asked you for nothing else, this means something. To him, and now to you in turn. There’s a version of yourself from not long ago that might’ve run for the hills at the implication. But you’re tired of running. 

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

-August 14th, 2003-

You’re roused awake by the feeling of the mattress dipping beneath the weight of another body next to yours.  Being the light sleeper that you are, you get bits and pieces of the unfamiliar room you are in through bleary eyes. And it’s cold. Somewhere during the night, you'd kicked off the fluffy duvet and comforter, and now you’re completely nude underneath nothing but a sheet. 

“You still sleepin’?” It’s Joel. Even though sleep still obscures most of your base-level functioning, you recognize his low, easy drawl. He tugs on the thin layer of fabric that covers your body. Your fingers curl, fisting into the gauzy fabric tucked under your chin. 

“Please don’t,” you croak out, shivering. “I’m freezing.” 

Joel tuts lightly, and slides under the covers to join you. His skin is slightly damp against your own – he’s just gotten back from his morning run. With anyone else, you’d be disgusted, maybe even snap at them for soiling the sheets. But somehow, he smells fucking incredible like this – all salt and sweat, and so warm. 

Pressed against him, you thaw. His hand slides over the dip in your waist, paws at your thighs. “Joel,” you whisper, but it’s not at all a protest. You’re used to this, all handsy in the morning and especially after he works out. 

“I need you,” he murmurs into your ear and you feel him, already hard and grinding against the flesh of your ass.

You hum your affirmation, and that’s all it takes. Joel shifts behind you, probably pushing his shorts down, before lifting your thigh and lining himself up with your entrance. You groan at the feeling of him stretching you open. One of his hands clasps over your mouth, the other holds your hips in place as he drives himself as deep as he can go. You moan louder. 

“Shh, shh, baby,” he murmurs, voice still raspy from lust and sleep. “Don’t want to wake anyone else up.” 

Right. You aren’t alone. Tommy and Sarah’s rooms are just across the hall. The knotty pine walls of the cabin start to shift into focus. With this in mind, you do your best to stay quiet as Joel starts up a callous pace that you think for a second might be a little too aggressive, until the sound of his needy panting in your ear makes you reconsider. You can’t help yourself. 

That’s all this, being with Joel – is. You keep giving more and more of yourself over to him. You can’t stop, you don’t want to. It feels good, the surrender. However slow it may be.

Your body thrums to life before you know it, and then you’re overly sensitive and desperate in-kind, clenching around his length as he ruts into you. 

Joel’s hot mouth trails sloppy, wet kisses along your neck. “Always feels so good, pretty girl. Like you were fuckin’ made for me,” his words buzz against the shell of your ear, fall down where they break at the base of your spine, a hundred shards shattering upon impact. Whatever expletive that leaves you comes out, muffled by his palm. “Hard to stay quiet, huh?” 

It’s already too much. You’ve gotten sinfully wet within minutes. And when you grind back against him involuntarily, that pulls him farther forward. “Touch yourself, darlin’,” he commands. “Not gonna last long.” 

You can feel him throbbing, right on the brink, so you reach down to circle your clit with two fingers as Joel movements grow sloppy, and uncoordinated. The feeling of him spilling deep inside you is the catalyst for your own orgasm, and Joel manages a few more thrusts to work you through it, his grip tightening over your mouth to hold back the noise.

He doesn’t pull back right away, just strokes your hair and peppers kisses on your shoulders. You listen to his sweet nothings, and savor the thump of his heart against your back. 

“I should hire you as my personal alarm clock from now on,” you say, voice hoarse, once you catch your breath. You feel the evidence of what he’d done to you, and press your thighs together at the sensation.

Joel chuckles. “You wouldn’t have to pay me. I’d volunteer.”

“So selfless,” you quip, and he drags his nose up the middle of your back, dazed and content. “Okay,” you wriggle from his grip to sit up. If you don’t leave the bed now, you don’t think you will ever find the strength again. “I need to shower.” 

“Can I join you?”

“Sure,” you say. “But you’re not allowed to distract me.”

“We’ll see about that…” Joel tickles your waist. 

“Joel,” you say, sternly. “I have shit I want to do.”

“Oh, really?” he seems unconvinced. “You’re finding tasks on vacation?”

“I wouldn’t call them tasks,” you explain. “But Sarah and I were gonna walk to that coffee shop in town.” 

“Coffee shop? Without me?” 

“I mean….last night you and Tommy promised to make breakfast,” you ruffle his hair affectionately, and he wrinkles his nose. “So I think we’re expecting it. But I’ll bring something home for you.” 

Joel grins, and pulls you in for another kiss before letting you retreat first to the bathroom, before following after you dutifully. 

He had driven the four of you a couple hours to some wildlife reserve you’d never heard of for a long weekend before Sarah went back to school at the end of the month. It’s your first trip together, and while you were excited to get out of the suburbs, it was a far cry from the vacations you had been used to growing up, and renting out a cabin had been a compromise, instead of straight-up camping. 

Still, you make the most of it. You and Sarah walk to the lake, and lay out on towels reading books and laughing until the sun dries out your skin. Tommy tries to teach you both to fish, but you’re too grossed out to touch the nightcrawlers he buys so you can’t even bait the hook. Joel takes you hiking and Sarah nearly breaks her foot trying to climb a tree. In her defense, you tell Joel it looked very climbable. 

Sarah demands to do a photoshoot when she finds the digital camera you brought, much to Joel’s dismay. He grumbles under his breath and rolls his eyes when you pick pink wildflowers and tuck them in his curls, then behind his ears, before you and Sarah do the same for each other. You snap portraits of each other – you and Sarah, then Sarah and Joel, then Tommy and Joel, and so on. 

When you get the pictures developed, and you see the photo on the top of the stack, you nearly return them, thinking there’d been a mistake. It’s one Sarah took of you and Joel. He’s kissing your cheek, arms encircling you, and you’re laughing so hard that your eyes are closed. The woman in the photo doesn’t look like you….she’s so happy.

Each night of the trip, you take turns on dinner duty – usually something that involves a grill. And the dad in Joel cannot help but hover around whoever is the chef, giving them pointers until he ends up taking over the meal entirely. The weed you brought mysteriously disappears one night after Tommy’s leaves to ‘go for a walk’, and you make s’mores over a fire. It’s so normal.

On your last night, you lay on the hammock next to Sarah, the mosquitoes unable to penetrate the protective circle of citronella candles and incense you’ve surrounded yourselves with. The cool breeze rustling through the trees is a reprieve from the unforgiving heat and humidity of the day. You’re making progress on The Da Vinci Code, even though Sarah is reading The Hobbit and periodically interrupting you to ask questions. 

The back door slams and you hear shoes approach, crunching over gravel. “Hey girls,” Joel stands over you with his hands on his hips. He gives the hammock a push that sends it into motion, swinging back and forth gently. You laugh, but Sarah wrinkles her nose, clearly disturbed by the movement. “Room for one more?” 

“No,” Sarah lifts her arm to try to keep him from climbing beside her. “Get a chair.”

Joel huffs, but doesn’t argue, pulling up the folding chair to sit next to you both. “It’s a nice night, ain’t it?” 

“Yeah,” you answer. Sarah puts the book closer to her face, gives a mumbled yes.

“Sarah, honey, have you enjoyed yourself?” 

“Did you not bring something to read out here?”

“No, I thought I’d come talk with you both because I was gettin’ bored all alone.” 

“Maybe you should go get your guitar,” Sarah suggests. 

“Where’d Tommy go?” you ask. 

“Met some girl who’s stayin’ two doors down,” Joel raises an eyebrow at you. 

You shake your head. “Incredible.” 

The night is loud, but ambient, crickets chirping. “It’s definitely starting to get dark earlier,” Joel observes. 

Sarah lets out a long sigh at that, shuts her book with a satisfying snap, and shifts to sit up. “I’m going inside.” 

“You don’t have to go, babygirl,” Joel reaches to steady the hammock and keep you from flipping out of it. 

“I’m tired,” she says. “And I gotta pack my stuff up.” 

“Do you want me to-”

“No, please, Dad, just…let me be.” 

Joel frowns, and he stares at her dejectedly as the door slams shut. He turns back to you. “Did I do something wrong?” 

You smirk, shake your head. “End of summer blues.” 

“Should I talk to her?”

“Maybe give her some time….check in later.” 

Joel sighs, stands from his chair, and takes Sarah’s place next to you on the hammock with incredible grace, considering the task. Smooth motherfucker, you think to yourself. 

“Tell me how you know more about parenting than I do?” he asks, rolling onto his side and propping himself on an elbow. “Sometimes I feel like you’re better at it.” 

To be fair, Sarah had been hinting at it all week, but you didn’t want to pry until she said it outright. Plus, it’s a familiar feeling. “I guess it helps that I was once a teenage girl. I used to get angsty before school started up every year.”

“How’d your dad handle it?” You realize that Joel is asking the question completely innocently, without thinking, but the second it leaves his mouth he realizes his mistake, and you can see the apology written in his features. 

It’s nothing, you shake your head. “Do you…” you trail off. “Do you want to know?”

Joel nods carefully. 

“Well,” you bite your lower lip. “He didn’t really handle it at all. I didn’t like being sent away. The one time I came to him in tears over it, he told me to quit being a crybaby and sent me to my room. So after that, I just never bothered him about it again.” 

Almost twenty years ago, but it’s like you’re there, in the dim light of your bedroom, biting on a corner of a frilly pink throw pillow and not bothering to wipe the tears that track down your cheeks and stain the embroidery. It wasn’t the first time. And it wouldn’t be the last.

“How old were you?” Joel asks. 

“I don’t know,” You pick at the corner of your book, avoiding his eyes. “Younger than Sarah. Nine or ten?” 

You wait for Joel’s expression to shift to one of pity. But it never does. There’s only something steely in his gaze. He winds an arm around your waist and brings you up against him. “I’m sorry.”  

“It’s okay,” you assure him, because it wouldn’t be opening up if you didn’t feel the need to immediately downplay everything you had said. “My brother ended up sneaking me out and taking me to get a milkshake.” 

“I’m glad he was there.”

“Me too,” you nod. “He was- is a good brother. Things are just….complicated now that we’re older.”

“I know that feeling,” Joel strokes your hair, runs his hand up the side of your waist absentmindedly. You find his quiet empathy – the space he holds for you – incredibly rewarding. That wasn’t so bad.

After the moment passes, he tugs on the collar of the flannel you’re wearing over a tank top. “This my shirt?” he asks. You nod, give a cautious smile. 

“Hope it’s okay,” you said. “I was cold. I didn’t think it’d get this cold at night.”

“It’s more than okay,” he mumbles, nosing past your hair and pressing his lips to your throat. You shiver. “You always look so pretty. But being out in nature really suits you.”

“Okay,” you say sarcastically, and don’t believe him for a second.

“You should really let me take you camping sometime. Proper camping,” he continues. 

“Joel, we talked about this,” you recall the conversations leading up to this trip. “If I am not within walking distance of an actual shower, I will die.” 

Joel laughs. “I’m not being dramatic. It would kill me.” 

“Don’t say that,” Joel scolds. “You’d be fine.”

“I’m not built like you. I’m a City Girl.”

“You’re not at all curious about the idea of having sex in a tent?”

“We have sex in a bed just fine. Why do we need to do it in a tent? Wouldn’t that just make it worse?”

“It’s a change of scenery.” 

“Okay so if that’s all it is, just hang a different picture in your room or something.”

Joel laughs again. 

“Look, I’m open minded about a lot of things, but if you took me camping, properly, out in the wilderness, you would hate me by the end of it.” 

“I don’t think that’s possible,” Joel answers. “I bet I’d still think I’m a pretty lucky guy.” 

You roll your eyes, pick your book back up and scan the pages, none of the words hitting. “You have too much faith in me. Truly.” 

“I’m serious,” he mumbles, hand under your chin. “Look at me, just let me sweet talk you for a second, alright?” 

Sighing, you let the book fall on your chest and clasp your fingers over it, turning to face him. “You’re so good. To me, to Sarah. Even to Tommy, although that’s not very important,” he smirks at his joke, almost like his brother could hear him. Quickly, he focuses back on you. “You fit in so well, and you don’t even have to try. I’m just so….happy.” 

Joel isn’t a poet or anything, but it’s one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever said to you. And it means more since it’s from him. You give him a gentle smile. “Me too.” 

But before anything can settle, you’re made aware of the deep ache within you. All you’ve ever wanted, all your life, is to not feel like a burden. To be cared for, paid attention to, without having to do anything to earn it. Do you really deserve this? Him? Sarah? How long will it be before it gets taken away, like it always has.

You feel like a toddler. A shiny toy is being dangled in front of you, but the second you reach for it, acknowledge how much you want it, it’s pulled away. You’re so uncoordinated, you fall on your face.

“Are you with me?” Joel asks, and you realize you’ve been staring absentmindedly at your feet. You nod. “What’s on your mind?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“I do.” 

You scrape your top teeth together for a second. “I’m really happy. I am, Joel,” you promise him. “But for me, good things don’t usually last.”

Joel’s hand circles yours, brings it so it’s pressed against his heart. “This will.”

You chose to believe him.

------

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----

[thisblogisaboutabook]

When the Lightsinger Calls (I Hear a Symphony)

An Azriel Drabble

Azriel daydreams of his mate -Inspired by ‘I Hear a Symphony’ by Cody Fry

I used to hear a simple song.

The warm winds of summer blew through the Illyrian mountains as Azriel sat sprawled on a thick branch fifty feet in the air, one leather covered leg dangling as the other stretched across the branch, his back resting against the trunk of an old Oak tree.

Cassian had been butting heads with Devlon for hours. Same shit, different day as they heatedly negotiated new terms for the training of Illyrian females. Devlon, of course, remained as stubborn as an ass. Even after decades of his bullshit, it never failed to chafe Azriel’s nerves that they were under the regime of the most powerful High Lord in Prythian’s history yet had to make nice with stuck-in-their-ways pricks like him. Today in particular had left Azriel feeling less than giving.

Cassian booted Azriel out of negotiations in record time, which admittedly, was likely for the best. Azriel’s dominant stance, deadly gaze, and violent whirling shadows were not best suited for these futile attempts of “sweet talking” Devlon out of his deeply rooted misogyny. If Azriel had his way Truth Teller would do all the talking, but diplomacy unfortunately took precedence.

He may have put up more of a fight when storming out of the Camp Lord’s office had Cassian’s weapon of choice today not had a unique way of toeing that line between diplomacy and force in a way that even Truth Teller could not. No blood spillage necessary, though, Azriel thought with a smirk, the weapon could do just that as well.

The warmth of the suns rays shining through the rustling leaves and the scratch of bark lightly grazing the sensitive membranes of his wings - hitting those spots he could never quite reach - had Azriel drifting off into a light dream state.

As he began to doze, shadows hummed around him, the whistling breeze mixing in with their whirring as they sensed for any incoming threats.

Blending in with their simple song, the creek nearby babbled with the sounds of trickling water, crickets chirped beneath rocks below.

His thoughts became more vivid as his conscience drifted deeper into sleep.

His jaw ticked, wings jerking slightly as he dreamed glimpses of deep red coating his marred skin from the countless souls he’d drawn blood from, lifeless bodies scattered across bloody battlefields, dark cells, the bright flare of roaring fire scalding a child’s hands, his shadows melody becoming broken as they attempted to soothe their master.

The melody became lighter as the flame in his dreams became flashes of light, blurred glimpses of a lovely face appearing in and out of his dreams. A soft laugh intertwined itself with his shadows, the solemn hymn becoming lighter, with vibrant bursts of energy leaving his heart fluttering. More images of the ethereal face flickered through his mind, soft blush dusted cheeks, a radiant white smile, supple fingers tracing the muscles of his chest, plush lips on bare skin, all appearing to the beat of the rising staccato. His lips quirked upward in his sleep as his guard dropped lower and lower and the melody continued growing louder, building into the crescendo of the loveliest symphony he’d heard yet, even in Prythian’s most renowned concert halls.

The music filled Azriel’s entire being, leaving him light as shadow, his flaws forging themselves from ugly into something beautiful, something worthy, as the melody carried his soul toward the light.

Just as his body began to slump out of the tree a sing-song voice brighter than day awoke him. “Careful, Shadowsinger. One might think you’re sleeping on the job.”

He looked down to his beautiful mate, the face his dream had called him to. “My little Lightsinger, did you give Devlon hell?”

She beamed. “Worked a little on him. The girls get seven more hours per week and Cass or I can do spot checks whenever we please. I’ll push for more when we meet again in a few months.”

“That’s my girl.” His eyes shone with the pride filling his chest as he launched out of the tree and swept her off her feet.

“Let’s go home.” She whispered, pressing a kiss to his nose. Azriel only blushed and did just as his lady said, the two falling into companionable silence as her light and his shadow mingled in harmony the entire flight back to Velaris.

And now I hear a symphony.

———————————————-

[olyphant-tim]

TIMOTHY OLYPHANT + filmography (insp.) happy birthday @timothyolyphant!

[keikuns]

happy belated birthday sarah @vanitasuu !!

[acotarxreader]

Say My Name

Azriel x Reader

Synopsis: After being separated from his brothers by the High Lord of Night, Azriel becomes accustomed to the new chain of command in his life, lead by you. But with the Mortal Realm war beginning to rage, will your relationship move beyond professional

Warnings: Angst.

A/N: Man, writing this made me so unsure of the timeline of the world before Feyre and the girliepops entered, I just used this one to aid the fleshing out of this story. There is a part two that I have half written but maybe you guys would prefer this as the stand alone it is now? Let me know! Also gawk in my part of the world means to get sick (fellow Irish friends can probably tell what part of the country I'm in by that lol) and I kept rereading the line I wrote and laughing.

P.S adularescence is the shimmer from moonstone hehe I love her

*********************************************************

Azriel lay staring up at the decadent ceiling of his new room in the House of Wind. He hadn’t taken his eyes off the intricate detailing in almost two hours, doing what he could to dissociate from his feelings having just been separated from the only family he ever knew. The clock ticking deafened him, soon it would be morning and he would begin work as the High Lord of Night’s personal Spymaster. He couldn’t stop his mind racing but forced his eyes closed, he would be no used to his brother's sleep-deprived. It felt as though the moment his eyes shut, the sun rose and his personal valet entered the room with his clean uniform. 

“Morning Sir” the clear sharp voice sent Azriel out of his bed and onto his feet as the staff member whipped the curtains open after placing the uniform over the chaise. 

“Sir is not necessary” 

“Yes Sir” Azriel decided to not push back further, only moving to dress himself quickly behind his folding screen as the valet left him alone again. Azriel took a deep breath, clearing his lungs out entirely while running his hands through his hair.

“Spymaster, you are required in the drawing room”

“One moment” Azriel fought the urge to sigh before following the voice into the hallway and eventually to the drawing room of the House of Wind. 

The long table reached nearly the length and breadth of the opulent room, a far cry from Windhaven. Azriel took in the faces of the High Lord's staff as they busied themselves around the room, servicing the various members of the Inner Circle of Rhysand’s father.

He took an empty seat closest to the door, the chaos of the makeshift war room giving him some sense of normalcy. He surveyed his hands on his lap whilst reminding himself to breathe until he felt the heat of a stare bore into the side of his head. He lifted his gaze to the direction of the inspection to find your moonstone-coloured eyes scanning him, the only female in the room with a seat at the table. You looked away as if bored by the prospect of him catching your eyeline, landing them back on the High Lord’s empty chair. 

You took a long, almost laboured breath out before standing, the chaotic room entirely stilling at the action, Azriel filed this reaction away immediately. You couldn’t have been much older than him if at all and yet you commanded this room better than any other he’d seen before.

“Well, now that we’ve all arrived-” more eyes fell sympathetically on Azriel, he hadn’t realised he was late “-Ah, keen eyes have found a new member of us, perhaps you are not all so useless after all-” a slight laugh left the group at your dry tone “-Azil is joining us from-”

“-Azriel” he corrected you, every head turning in his direction now, a lump growing in his throat at the feeling, his shadows curling around his ankles in an attempt to comfort. 

“Huh, cute-” you scoffed out “-Spymaster, interrupt me again and no one will have a need to remember your name” Ice nearly leached from your speech, Azriel was making a great first impression with his new command.

“-Right, Azriel, will be the new Spymaster for the High Lord, like the rest of you he will report to me and Azil-”

“-Azriel, intel must need help if you don’t even know my name” he mentally cursed himself for cutting across you again, especially when he noticed the room's eyes fixating forward on the table and not on him.

“Anyways, smartass Spymasters aside, we all have our assignments for next week’s gathering in Hewn City, and arrangements have been made for travel. This is purely a diplomatic function, to help strengthen Winter Court relations, you know where I am if you have questions, which isn’t an invitation to have questions” You spoke with such commanding energy, the room hanging on every word before you gave a half nod and made an exit, trailed by two other members of the council. The room sprang back into chaos and revelry in your absence. 

“She is not to be feared just because of her position” he retorted, moving to stand only to halt at the laugh from the Fae adjacent to him..

“Are you fucking insane Spymaster? I guess they don’t teach common sense at Windhaven-”

“-Illyrians can’t be taught what isn’t natural to them” Azriel’s eyes cut into the Court member who made the throw-away comment before looking back to the High Fae who first addressed him. Benson was as close to your second in command as you could have, he was fiercely loyal and even more so unpredictable. Rhysand had mentioned him before to Azriel, that he had been one of his Father’s most beloved assassins and where possible was to be avoided, great job so far Azriel thought to himself.

“YN is to be respected Spymaster” Benson bit out. YN, had Rhysand ever mentioned that name he thought? Azriel furrowed his brow, deciding he had given into enough of their squabbling, choosing to leave the room. He missed his brothers. 

“Oh she loves to break the clever ones”

“He can’t be that clever if he challenges her” Benson smirked.

“Well she can’t be that much of a challenge if a simple correction throws her off” Azriel shot back at the third High Fae to join the gang up. 

********************************************

For the next week, Azriel familiarised himself with the House of Wind and its quirky residents. He searched for you in the meetings he attended but never found you, he was beginning to think you were a sleep-deprived dream until your silhouette caught his eye during his training exercise outside. He watched you walk the length of the boundary balcony of the House of Wind, deep within your thoughts as he found his legs bringing him closer to you, eyes fixated on the back of your head. 

“Take a mental image, Spymaster, it’ll last longer” You sighed at him before turning around. You shone to him in the light of the Summer sun, positively glowing as though you were made of the light itself. You rolled your eyes at his gawking before turning back again, Azriel only then realising he had been staring. 

“I suppose your silence means the others have warned you, shame you were interesting for half a second there” You almost laughed the words out, surveying Velaris below as Azriel moved to your side and took in the view of Rhysands beloved city.

“I’m sorry about inter-”

“Don’t apologise, Spymaster, just don’t do it again” You glanced at his beautiful face for only a moment before pulling your eyes back again. Azriel left the somewhat easing air still for a moment before speaking again. 

“You can call me by my name”

“I’d rather not gain that level of familiarity with your Spymaster” You clicked your tongue off your teeth.

“You don’t seem much older than I am” he was feeling bold, his loneliness in the Court of much older members starting to weigh on him. 

“I didn’t know the High Lord had high-ranking females in his Court”

“It’s just me, the other applicants for my job were found to be unfit by the time of application” You gave a somewhat dark laugh that Azriel found himself smiling at. 

“Good because I’m not” You laughed fully this time, stealing another glance at the Illyrian, Azriel wishing secretly to keep your iridescent eyes on him for the rest of his days. 

“Rhysand hadn’t mentioned you” You broke the look at the mention of the High Lord's son, not going unnoticed by Azriel.

“That does not concern you Spymaster, nor should it so that perhaps is best left there” 

“YN, they’re ready!” Benson called from the steps of the House and you gave a little sigh at the interruption.

“Your keeper is calling YN” Azriel smiled and you scoffed lightly before turning in the direction of the steps. 

“Make yourself useful tonight Spymaster, diplomatic gathering or not, there’s always war games going on” Azriel found it difficult to tear his eyes from you as you joined Benson’s side and dipped back into the shadows.

***************************************************

The Hewn City gathering was colossal, Fae from both Night and Winter danced and drank and rejoiced in the music of the live band, the two High Lords watching on with amusement and suspicion of one another. Azriel stole Mor away the second he landed his eyes on her, desperate for some ounce of familiarity. The two reconnected and recounted the time they had been apart, enjoying one another's company against the backdrop of the Court of Nightmares. 

Azriel excused himself for a moment from his friend, moving across the vast dance floor to retrieve a drink. A hand suddenly went around his mouth from behind as he reached the edge of the ballroom floor. He felt his body be hauled backwards, almost too stunned at the boldness to fight back. You let go of Azriel once you reached the service hallway of the ballroom before you pushed him back into a tiny disused service closet. 

“What the fuck?!” Azriel evened his breathing out in the dark small space, pushing away the deeply repressed memories, your presence having a soothing effect on him he didn’t care to acknowledge.

“What information had Morrigan?” you bit out through the dim light, Azriel’s eyes adjusting as yours seemingly glowed.

“None to concern yourself with YN” Azriel rolled his shoulders, fighting to pull back some ounce of the composure he lost with being so close to you in the enclosed space. 

“Everything with her concerns me” Your serious tone gave Azriel pause, as you glanced out the hall to check if you had been followed. 

“We were discussing how much we miss Rhysand and Cassian” Your head shot back to him with the sound of their names, reclosing the door as you went, sealing back in the darkness. Azriel shuffled slightly at the return of the sealed door, trying his best to not show his rising discomfort.

“What’s wrong Spymaster?”

“I-I I don’t like enclosed spaces” he admitted, forcing the maroon in his cheeks away before it could rise. He waited for the ridicule that normally followed from that admission but it never came. You seemed to look at him knowingly before pushing the door open slightly so it was ajar, a small stream of light leaking in. 

“Why hasn’t he mentioned you?” 

“There, no big deal”

“That’s what Rhys says about it too” You scoffed at his words

“Not here” you warned but that wasn’t a complete shutdown of the conversation so Azriel felt somewhat hopeful he’d get to continue to unravel your mystery. You shuffled slightly under Azriel’s gentle intrigued gaze. 

“You’re the one who hauled me in here, can I go? Or are you avoiding your handler?” 

“Stop staring at me”

“It’s hard not to”

“Well figure it out” Neither of you could look away from one another.

“No one can handle me” you half scoffed.

“Bet I could give it a shot” You raised an eyebrow at him before stepping even closer to his challenging tone, your chests and toes now touching.

“Not afraid of me Azriel?” You whispered so softly Azriel for a brief moment thought he misheard but the sound of his name on your tongue would never be something he’d mistake. 

“Petrified” He moved a rogue strand of hair from your face, doing his best to not touch his scarred hand off your delicate skin. 

“Good” You leaned in further, as you caught hold of Azriel’s hand, his feelings towards his biggest insecurity melting away. He felt his heart race as he leaned into the space between you both until your head fully pulled back from his reach and you released his hand. 

“Something is wrong” Your head snapped to the door, raising a finger up a few inches from Azriel’s face to prevent him from questioning you. 

“Fuck” You whispered, leaning down to your boot and withdrawing a sharp dagger. 

“Take this and don’t get fucking killed, bail out before you let that happen to you Spymaster” You didn’t give Azriel a chance to be offended before you flung the door open and began to run down the hall, retrieving another blade from our thigh, Azriel hot on your heels. 

The two of you burst into a scene of total and utter chaos, members of both Courts screamed and tried to escape the onslaught of individuals sheathed in black. You sprang into action, catching hold of two not so stealthy characters, and taking them out with one swish of your blade. Azriel dashed towards the Lady of the Night Court, the superhero of his childhood, his turn to defend her. Azriel was almost in arms reach of her before he was sent sailing to the floor by the heavy body of one of the assailants. Before he could react, he felt their warm blood hit the side of his face, looking to find Benson holding the Fae's head in his hand. Rhysand’s mother reached for Azriel as he shot back up to his feet, taking hold of her arm and winnowing her away from the sheer pandemonium. 

**********************************************

Hours later Azriel stayed pacing up and down the hallway in front of your office, waiting for your return. The sound of your strained voice saying goodbye to Benson filled the hallway before you strode down it alone, hair dishevelled and covered in a layer of crimson not belonging to you. 

“YN” Azriel tried not to startle you as he stood out from the shadows, only gaining a slight reaction from your exhausted state.

“What do you want Spymaster?” You half sighed out, reaching to unlock the door of your office, your muscles straining.

“You can say that all you like YN but I don’t believe you”

“I just wanted to see if you're alright?”

“There’s no need to, of course I am, part of the day job” you grunted, the door finally giving in under your weight. You threw down the dirty weapons onto the chaise before rolling your neck and sinking into your chair behind the giant oak desk as Azriel almost sheepishly followed you in. He watched you lift a heavy hand to the side of your neck, just catching a glimpse of a fresh gash before you hid it with the collar of your shirt. Had that been your punishment for not knowing the attack was going to occur Azriel thought. You tossed your legs onto the desk as Azriel closed the door behind him.

“What did I say about interrupting me?” Your legs found the ground again as you leaned into the desk, attempting to cut Azriel with your eyes.

“I’m really not yours to worry about Spymas-”

“-Azriel, my name is Azriel” It came out of him more clipped than intended but Azriel would not become nameless in this Court.

“You can interrupt me but I can’t interrupt you, how is that fair?!”

“News flash Spymaster, nothing in this Court is fair. I will not tolerate being disrespected by a male of lower rank than me” You stood, closing the distance between you, your sharp tone matching his. Azriel’s hand shot for your collar and for a split second you thought he was going to hit you and you’d be responsible for another death that day but no, it instead tugged down the collar of your leathers revealing a fresh weeping gash. You gulped slightly at the motion but didn’t pull back from his touch, if anything you found yourself leaning into him.

“Did the High Lord do that to you because of today?” His eyes bore into the marking occupying his bone-chilling tone.

“Yes” you said faintly, his hazel eyes landing on yours as their adularescence flickered. 

“I should kill him where he stands” he moved so painfully slowly, his lips ever so tenderly met the top of the gash before he calmly pulled back, dropping his hand and moving towards the door, stopping in front of it as you spoke again.

“Are you threatening my High Lord in front of me, Azriel?” You tried to stop your voice from shaking as your eyes were fixated on his back.

“YN, I believe you’re the first person since my brothers that I would tear the world apart for” he breathed without returning to you again and passing through the doorway.

*****************************************************************

Whatcha think? A second part required or is the open ending fun? Hehe Let me know what you think friends!

[heatherfield]

I mean you got me to watch and you KNOW HOW HARD IT IS FOR ME TO START THINGS

But yes please watch headless my boy deserves all the love

I KNOW AND I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!

And to anyone reading this, PLEASE SAVE A BARD FROM BEING LOCKED OUT IN THE COLD AND WATCH "HEADLESS: A SLEEPY HOLLOW STORY".

Don't be like Baltus.

[quixtrix]

god save our women; a ramble of an analysis

or, captain laserhawk REALLY shot jade in the face and im still upset about it because oh my GOD they really made her be thrown into a role that is not HER and in death she's still a Figure. yknow, i personally don't have a problem with sarah x jade, but over the past few months occasionally i'd think about it. yeah, it's funny to call sarah gay as hell for putting jade in a femme fatale outfit, but. should that truly be our basis for the ship? or should we think a bit deeper on why exactly sarah would put the sole woman in her lil tool set into such a position? i wonder why it wouldn't hurt to think about why jade would be forced into a role where one has to be sexual.

sarah is an extent of eden and eden is society and society will occasionally harp an odd sort of something masquerading as feminism to you that being sexual gives you power! but really it only serves to loop back into being for the man's enjoyment.

now i have to say that being sexual can be empowering! it really is! we just also have to acknowledge that in the eyes of society, sex is an exchange where it serves the man more than it does the woman. it still feels good to be sexual though, and being sexual can be used right for what you want.

but when it comes to jade, jade is forced to fall into this femme fatale role, this role that demands one to be a maneater, when she usually sticks to a more impersonal way of work. in this role, she dresses in clothes that she's not comfortable with wearing, when told to change from her usual outfit she is visibly uncomfortable, and overall it doesn't fit her.

she is not a sexual person. she does not typically utilise sexuality as a tool in her arsenal, she doesn't even seem to really touch it (or she's just insanely bad at flirting). either way, she's not used to being in this position because she does not choose to be in this position often.

anyways, why does sarah think to put the woman in a position where she would have to step out of her comfort zone? because obviously, she uses things and positions as tools, and sexuality is a tool.

now i want yall to bear with me as i compare sarah to another woman in media; makima. no im not calling sarah some god awful dommy mommy or some shit, i'm bringing in makima to highlight how sexuality is used. she uses her sexuality as a woman to entice this young boy into doing things for her, ranging from a kiss to assaulting him and telling him that she'll give him more as a reward. while not inherently sexual, she offers up a date with her to encourage the devil hybrids under her control. she even offers up a kiss at one point to encourage competition. makima, someone raised by the government and given tools that she uses to manipulate others, has sexuality in her arsenal. it is not a stretch to say that sarah, someone who has intimate understanding of the government, the ladder she climbs, has seen others use sexuality as a tool. hell, it might even be encouraged to use it as a tool. i'm absolutely not saying that sarah fucked her way to the top, im saying that sarah is aware that sexuality is a tool that one can use.

now we all know how sarah got to the top, which can be reasonably assumed to be through military rank and impersonal ways. ways that don't require one to lower your guard and take you in before they strike, like a femme fatale way would. sarah most likely got through to the top by using people and throwing just enough weight around. so why does she not allow jade to flourish in a way that honestly would benefit the team way better yeah no its because she sees her as a fucking tool in order to recognise jade's real talents she must first let go of the notion that she is a simple tool and accept that as a human she has legitimate strengths in unique areas and not just one where you can remind them who is in charge and how you are a tool and FUCK EDEN AND THEIR FUCKING TOOL MINDSET FUCKING CAPITALIST MINDSET IN A SO CALLED POST CAPITALISTIC SOCIETY!!!!! okay im getting a lil heated but yknow what let's continue FUCK PEY'J LOOK AT THIS SHIT

IM SO SORRY BEYOND GOOD AND EVIL FANS THEY DID YOU SO WRONG BECAUSE THEY WANTED TO FUCKING HAMMER IN THE IDEA OF JADE BEING A FIGURE AND NOT A PERSON EVEN IN DEATH SHE IS BOILED DOWN TO SOME FUCKASS WHO KNEW HER AS A BABY'S LOVE INTEREST AND I KNOW FOR A FACT THEY DID YALL WRONG!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! they did yall so wrong my god. my god !! imagine! someone who knew you as a BABY openly admitted to you when you were a young adult in your 20s that he has feelings for you! what the hell! what purpose does this serve than to cement the idea that jade is a tool, a motive? jade, a goddamn REPORTER tryna spread light on a legitimate issue on society and then gets thrown into the Ghosts because of it, is boiled down to a tool. a fucking tool by both sarah and pey'j, TWO PEOPLE WHO ARE SEEN by both show and fandom AS POSSIBLE LOVE INTERESTS FOR JADE.

SHE LITERALLY COULD HAVE BEEN SO MUCH MORE IF SARAH DID SEE HER AS HUMAN AND DID UTILISE HER ACTUAL TALENTS INSTEAD OF SEEING HER AS A TOOL AND FOR THAT JADE IS UNFORTUNATELY NOT SEEN AS A PERSON, BUT AS A FIGURE.

but yknow what. yknow who also has been seen as a figure and not a person.

dolph laserhawk. eden's child soldier that they raised as a paragon of hope fallen into disgrace.

yknow what also happens with dolph and jade? they treat each other as human. jade includes dolph in her lil vlogs as she does with the rest of the team, because she is a good person. dolph recognises that she is indeed a person, someone worth remembering as themselves. not as who she was to someone, but as someone who went out of her way to offer kindness. she gets a goddamn speaking role in his vr dream alongside alex, who yes groomed him, but he also made dolph feel human.

i didnt even realise it before that they put the only two people (that are. dead. bullfrog is not here for obvious reasons) that have made dolph feel human and not an extension of eden in one frame BUT THYE FUCKING DID. these mfs and dolph are basically real recognises real

this isn't about dolph though, this is about jade. jade, who didn't get to be shown to the world as a person, who posthumously became a figure for a man's revenge, who was put into a position she is not suited for because she was not recognised as human. jade, who is the most human out of the ghosts, who gave voice to those that couldn't through her work, who went into exposing pagan min because of her uncle, her family that she loved. for being the most grounded member, they had to kill you because you mattered so much. kept the team together through kindness. god they did you so wrong jade.

[doom-dreaming]

High Flakes Combat

“Blue Lead,” Linda’s whisper cuts across TEAMCOM, crisp and several degrees colder than the icy landscape. “Hostiles approaching your position.”

Fred, tucked behind the trunk of a towering pine tree, exhales a slow, measured breath. Waiting. Listening. Without his motion tracker, only the crunch of footsteps in the snow—and Linda—could tell him when their opponents were closing in.

There. Fifteen meters out. He motions to John, positioned behind an adjacent tree. On my signal.

…ten meters…

Cover me. Go high.

…five meters…

John nods. Fred tightens his grip on his weapon.

Now.

As one, they pivot, breaching cover. Fred drops to a knee, attacking swiftly, before their adversary has a chance to retaliate.

The snowball hits Ash directly in the center of his chestplate. Active camouflage flickers briefly, then recalibrates, as the young Spartan crashes dramatically to his knees before sprawling backward, motionless.

Fred doesn’t let the theatrics distract him. The other two had to be nearby and the round wasn’t over until— A snowball whizzes past his head, followed by a sharp curse—out loud, close. He catches a shimmer of white on white as Olivia leaps to find cover and “reload,” but John is faster.

The snowball hits her thigh before she can complete her maneuver and she slides to a dejected halt in a snowbank. “Dammit! Mark!” she calls out. “You’re on your own!”

Fred doesn’t hear a verbal response. He knows he won’t, Mark’s too good to give away his position— Thwap. Fred’s vision goes fuzzy and white as Mark’s snowball connects with his visor, splattering on impact. Fred groans and flashes a red status light across his team’s HUDs. He’d be out until the next round.

“He’s on the move!” Linda barks over the comms.

Fred folds himself cross-legged into the snow and wipes his visor clean just in time to see Kelly bounding over a nearby ridge, clutching a snowball in each fist.

“I’ve got him!” She goes streaking across the snow toward a barely-visible figure—also sprinting.

Mark wouldn’t be able to outrun Kelly—a fact Fred knew the S-III was well aware of—but he was certainly trying his best.

Kelly nails Mark with both snowballs, one in the shoulder, the other in the back. He stumbles just enough that Kelly’s momentum sends her into him at full force. The clack of their colliding armor echoes like a shot as both Spartans go tumbling to the ground, sending up a minor flurry in their wake.

“Aaaaaaaand match!” Roland’s voice rings out over the simulation deck, followed by a buzzer. “Blue Team takes the win!”

“Again,” Olivia grumbles, pushing to her feet and dusting snow off her armor.

“It’s three against four,” Ash reminds her, still lying on his back a few feet from Fred.

Olivia crunches her way over and offers him a hand. “Can we make Kelly sit out the next round?”

“If you’re not having fun, leave,” John quips.

“Or maybe you should switch Kelly to our team and see how it feels,” Livi bites back, helping Ash haul himself to his feet.

“Fighting over me?” Kelly rejoins the group with Mark close behind. “I’m flattered.”

Fred chuckles. It was good to see Olivia trading barbs with John. The Gammas had warmed up to him quickly—and he to them—and it wasn’t hard to understand why. Fred was sure the S-IIIs had given him some new streaks of gray hair, but at the same time, they made him feel younger. He hoped they were having the same effect on John.

“So…” drawls a familiar voice, raised just loud enough to carry, “this is the reason my fireteams can't train today? A snowball fight.”

Every Spartan in the simulated snowscape whips toward the entrance. Commander Palmer stands at the far edge of the scene, arms crossed. She looks odd and out of place, a lone figure in a techsuit against the stark white surroundings, but no less intense than usual.

“Thought we’d try something different from the typical drills, ma’am,” Fred coughs. He’s not sure why he feels guilty; they’d requested the time and blocked out the schedule and followed protocol…even if they hadn’t said precisely what they’d be doing…

Before anyone else has a chance to speak, a snowball goes sailing over Fred’s shoulder, on a collision course for Palmer. She’s too far away to hit, but the aim is dead-accurate and it lands with a wet plap several yards directly in front of her.

Even at this distance, Fred sees her eyes narrow. The vague guilt solidifying in his gut crystallizes into ice. He knows who threw that and he’s already, reflexively, preparing for the necessary damage control—and for Linda, no less. Kelly he was used to, but Linda?

Palmer shifts her weight and fixes the seven of them with a hard stare that lasts long past the point of being uncomfortable. “Don’t go anywhere,” she eventually orders, leveling a finger in their direction. “I’ll be back in ten minutes.” Without leaving any opportunity for rebuttal, she turns on her heel and swiftly disappears from the deck.

Immediately, Linda’s status light starts blinking rapid-fire green across Blue Team’s HUDs. Kelly follows suit.

“Really?” Fred grumps over TEAMCOM.

“Can you blame her if it worked?” Kelly retorts.

“Yes! You’re making an assumption and setting a bad example.” He switches to his helmet’s speakers. “Gammas, don’t throw things at your commanding officers.”

“Unless you’re sleeping with them,” Kelly adds, with enough tact to keep the comment on Blue Team’s private channel.

Another green light from Linda.

Fred willfully ignores both of them.

“...we’re not in trouble, are we?” Ash removes his helmet and shakes out his hair. “To be honest…I don’t know what just happened.”

Kelly seats herself on a tree stump, legs akimbo, smugness oozing from every seam of her armor. “Palmer’s getting suited up to come play with us.”

Ash seems unconvinced but Mark shrugs. “She’ll balance the numbers. We might even start winning.”

Only Blue Team can see—and appreciate—the red light John flashes in silent response.

**********

As threatened, Palmer returns exactly ten minutes later, fully armored aside from the helmet tucked into the crook of her arm. “Okay, here’s the official story.” She strides up to the group. “We’re running an unorthodox but fully sanctioned training exercise all day.”

“I’ve cleared the schedule and put out an open invitation,” Roland chimes in. “As requested.”

Palmer nods her approval. “Figured I’d let you have your fun on the condition that the rest of us could get in on it too.” She raises an eyebrow. “Sound fair?”

“Fair enough,” Fred answers, echoing the array of green lights on his HUD. “Alright. Ground rules—we’re running blind for this, Commander. No motion trackers.”

She looks pleased. “I like a challenge.”

“If you get hit, you’re out for the round,” he continues. “Once you’re out, you can’t help anyone still standing. Round ends when a whole team goes down.” Fred nods toward the ceiling. “Roland’s keeping score.”

“Huh,” Palmer hums. “So you knew about this, too, Roland?”

“I…was informed the exercise would require a scorekeeper instead of a handler,” the AI answers, somehow managing to achieve the verbal equivalent of tip-toeing. “And I volunteered a mere fraction of my copious attention to the task.”

Palmer just rolls her eyes.

Ash clears his throat and steps forward. “If you wouldn’t mind, ma’am, we’d greatly appreciate it if you joined our team.”

“They’ve been wiping the floor with us,” Olivia adds, somewhat ruefully.

Palmer looks back and forth between Blue Team and the Gammas with a hint of a smirk. “Well.” She slips her helmet on. “Allow me to level the playing field.”

**********

And indeed, the tide began to turn. Quickly. It wasn’t that the Gammas couldn’t hold their own, but Palmer was a different flavor of ruthless and even numbers did make a difference.

Kelly, as Blue Team’s sole survivor, was in the midst of a valiant stand, but she was up against Palmer and Olivia and they were going in for the kill. Up to this point, Kelly had been relying on her speed to evade them, but Fred doubted that would be able to carry her any further.

Palmer and Livi split around the back of the snowbank Kelly had hidden behind, falling into synchronized step with each other, timing their paces perfectly. Palmer’s boots fall heavier and louder, covering Olivia’s near-silent glide around the other side.

The strategy is obvious, at least from Fred’s position of passive observation—Palmer would draw Kelly’s attention, Olivia would come up on her flank and take her out. And it would work, too…on anyone less observant than Kelly. Fred has a feeling she’ll see right through it. But one of them was going to hit her either way, so it didn’t really matter as far as the outcome was concerned.

Surprisingly, a third option presents itself. Fred realizes after a few seconds that he’s been holding his breath, expecting Kelly to explode out of the snow and make a run for it, but…she doesn’t.

Palmer reaches the other side of the snowdrift and slows, confusion evident in her body language. She paces around the area, making sure not to stay still for too long, obviously reluctant to let her guard down completely. Fred can see the hazy mirage of Olivia’s SPI suit still moving in with careful deliberation.

There was no way Kelly could have moved. She hadn’t had enough time. More importantly, she would’ve been spotted if she’d tried to flee, so why couldn’t—

Palmer disappears. One second, she’s standing on the other side of the snowbank, visible from the waist up, and the next second she’s gone. Fred can’t see much of anything, but there are sounds of a scuffle and the blur of camouflaged armor as Livi sweeps in to assist with whatever the hell had just happened.

Barely a breath later, Roland announces the end of the match. “And Gammas-Plus-Palmer emerge victorious! …or should I say Olivia, specifically, seeing as she is the last Spartan standing. You know, you really oughta come up with a better name for your team—”

There’s a burst of indignant exclamations and flustered cursing from Palmer. She reappears only to rip her helmet off and kick some snow back in the direction from which she’d escaped.

Olivia removes her own helmet; Fred is surprised to see her laughing. “She got you good!” There’s a giddiness in her voice that Fred’s never heard before, but she seems to remember who she's talking to a moment later. “...ma’am.”

Kelly pops up beyond the ridge. She remains helmeted but Fred knows there’s a shit-eating grin on her face just from her posture alone.

“What happened?” He shouts the question out loud.

“She buried herself in the fucking snow and pulled my legs out from under me,” Palmer growls as she trudges over.

“And then I hit Kelly point-blank in the face!”

Olivia’s gleeful comment is backed by Kelly’s laughter over TEAMCOM. “Worth it.”

“Hey!” A different voice cuts into the conversation, once again pulling everyone’s attention toward the entrance. “Heard there was some kinda free-for-all goin’ on in here?” Gabriel Thorne stands flanked by the rest of Fireteam Majestic, all in full Mjolnir. “Got room for another team?”

Palmer waves them in. “Come on up, Majestic. We’ll get you briefed on the rules.” She sighs and fits her helmet back on. “Hope you’re ready to get your asses kicked.”

**********

An hour later, after Majestic had carved out a few victories of their own, Crimson shows up. Rules are recounted, home bases are realigned, play resumes. Within another two hours, there are four more Spartan fireteams on the field. Alliances are formed, both openly and secretly. Several hours are devoted to building snow forts. Play evolves. Forts are defended and captured, sabotaged and reinforced.

And then Lasky arrives.

“Captain on deck!” Roland bellows.

The silence that blankets the simulation deck is instantaneous and absolute. Nobody moves. If the snowballs already in flight could have frozen in midair, they probably would’ve. Instead, they land in a chorus of muffled thwumps.

Lasky stands there for a few seconds, small and unimposing by the distant doors, sporting his trademark expression of beleaguered amusement—presumably at being called out. “Don’t stop on my account,” he eventually says. “I just wanted to watch. …unless there’s a team looking for a liability,” he jokes with a self-deprecating chuckle.

Everyone on the field exchanges glances and shrugs. A sea of status lights blink across Fred’s HUD—most amber, some green. Finally, someone from Crimson waves Lasky over. “We’ll take you, Captain!”

He seems genuinely surprised by the invitation, but begins the trek across the snow. “Try not to kill me, alright?”

That draws laughs from most of the Spartans, but it’s John who actually banters back. “No promises, sir.”

[lenumybeloved]

I love it when actors are complete opposites of their characters