acotarxreader · 25 days ago
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Tell me, Party Girl
Azriel x Reader (Cassian's sister)
Synopsis: Your former party girl title rears it's head again as you try to escape the reality of The House of Winds newest resident, Nesta. Very quickly tension bubbles over between you and the night courts current 365 party girl, leaving Azriel to do what he does best.
Warnings: Angst, Nesta being so rude, mentions of alcoholism, fluffy
A/N: You guys! Hello! I have missed writing for you friends! Sorry for being a lil MIA especially with Azriel fics. Let me know what you guys think of this!
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Flashes of iridescent technicolour filled the darkened room, the free spirits of the Autumn Court escaping their world's trials and tribulations. Pounding music like nowhere else in the whole of Prythian filled the club scene, as you swirled effortlessly into the centre of the floor. Your hands flowed above your head, the flickers of light passed through your fingers as your head tilted back, lost in the world of the music. Fae bumped into you, with little notice given by you, following their own flow away from their earthly body. The floor of this long-forgotten former base was the scene of many a moment lost and gained to powerful music envied by the rest of Prythian and felt by so few. Unfortunately, as soon as you felt the peace in the vibrations, the heavy boots of Autumn court troops shook the room out of serenity. You snapped from your inner world back to the world of ruined fun, fae ran from every which direction, doing their best to evade capture and wrongful retribution. You followed your own intuition, skillfully avoiding the guards and ducking into the surrounding wood for cover. Your dancing shoes found it difficult to adapt to their new purpose of dashing over thickets of roots to take cover in, sending you crashing into damp dusk moss. 
“Need a hand?” You exhaled loudly towards the source of the words, reluctant to look up and find the scolding source. You pushed onto the backs of your legs, the sound of guards circling but unable to see you through the shield you emitted. 
“Your power has so much more use than partying YN, if only I could convince you to join my team” A gloved hand reached down, your knees split from the fall, the blood now flowing as you allowed him to pull you up. 
“Whatever Az, as if he’d allow me on any of the fun missions. Taking me back to my cell?”
“Do you mean your plush room in a palace? Then yes” he smiled softly, tucking your arm close to him, shadows ran up and down your bare legs attempting to bring some semblance of heat back to them.
“A gilded cage is still a cage” You sighed, a sympathetic smile growing on his face as he dissolved you both into shadow, the sound of the guards finally reaching you both a distant memory, to match the freedom you briefly felt. 
The landing to your House of Wind living quarters was as gentle as ever, Azriel in full knowledge of your hatred for winnowing. You threw yourself down on the edge of your bed, your ruined shoes being kicked free. 
“Night YN” Azriel smiled as you flattened yourself out of the delicate sheets, eyes fixed on the swirl of stars painted across the ceiling. 
“Where’s my keeper?”
“He’s busy getting nowhere with Nesta” he laughed quietly while you uprighted yourself to look towards the Shadowsinger again, a smirk painting your face. 
“I enjoy the stress that female puts on my dear brother, it keeps me young and beautiful” You grinned, striding over to sit at your vanity, your fingers pulling stray sticks from your locks.
“You don’t need help with that” 
“What?” You turned to question Azriel’s barely audible words but he had already gone, leaving you alone again, the wind reverberating against the towering windows. 
-
You sauntered into the long dining room, your footsteps against the stone cutting into the clearly awkward silence between the three other residents of the House of Wind. The legs of the large oak chair scrapped along the worn stone, making Nesta recoil slightly from the other end of the table, Cassian watching her face carefully from the opposite end. Azriel looked grateful to have you sit across from him, anything to end the tension between the two on either side of him. 
“So, sent dear Azzie out to fetch me again brother?” or start new tension Azriel thought, your almost bored words dragging Cassian's eyes to you. 
“You shouldn’t go to those parties, anything could happen you”
“Yeah like a break from you two...or something interesting” You muttered down to your grapefruit, Azriel’s foot briefly tipping against the top of your toes in a comforting movement so short you couldn’t say it happened for sure. 
“They’re all out to stop our freedom YN” Nesta chewed out, a blow clearly directed towards Cassian who threw a glare to her. You didn't hate Nesta per say, sure she kept your brother occupied which allowed you more time to sneak away but you paid the price of having to deal with her tantrums. As well as having to deal with the foul moods she put your brother in.
“I appreciate the support Nesta but with all due respect you’re a traumatised, spendthrift, alcoholic, I just have a control freak for a brother” Azriel nearly choked on the orange segments he ate with bad timing as now both Nesta and Cassian directed their annoyance towards you.  Neither heated glance fazed you, you knew Cassian's weak spots since a child and as for Nesta, she wasn’t yet up to the skill it would take to leave a scratch on you and so there you sat, eating your grapefruit with a smug sense of comfort. 
“Takes one to know one” Nesta scoffed towards her breakfast. 
“Excuse me?” You bit back, Azriel’s foot gently tapping you again, its reassurance doing little to your escalating anger, a stray shadow now wrapping around your ankle.
“Don’t play all high and mighty, Cassian’s told me all about the whoring party girl you used to be-”
“-Enough Nesta” Azriel spoke with a slow composure that conveyed a level of anger you prayed never to be on the other end of. 
“Why!? You’re all allowed to talk about my drinking and fucking!? Why can’t I talk about the original party girl of the group? The female that got so drunk that she slept through Tamlin and his father stealing away Rhysand’s sister? Some lady in waiting you are! Or should I say were?” Venom from Nesta’s tongue stung more than any blow her power could deliver. Your deepest regret, the deepest darkest lowest point of your 500 years on this Earth, thrown at you like it was nothing. You thought about that night often, how you just wanted one night of entire numbing, to not feel the deep scars down your back where your wings once were just once and how you would pay the price of that for centuries after. You screeched the chair along the slate again, standing with escalating anger as Cassian began reprimanding Nesta.
“I hope you never feel an ounce of what I did that night Nesta, I hope you get everything you want in life and it still not be enough” Your voice was an even calmness that came with pure white-hot rage as tears began to brim along your lash line. You met the dining room door quickly, the room descending into a deeper realm of tension than when you had arrived. 
“And I also hope you fall down those steps your feeble muscles can’t even bring you down” You added before slamming the door of the dining room, jolting Cassian slightly. Azriel stood from his place, his fingertips pressed into the oak as it pushed back against him. 
“Speak to her like that again and I’ll personally help Rhysand kick your sorry ass to the wilderness” Azriel often avoided full eye contact with Nesta and yet this time found himself staring down Lady Death with only rage bubbling through his veins.
You flung your favourite clothes into the rucksack Cassian had carried through his first war. You looked down at its deep indigo colouring, its tattered fabric a reminder of the battles your brother fought for his people, for you. 
“YNN?” Azriel called softly from the other side of your door, shadows beginning to leak under the doorframe. You sank into your power, vanishing from visibility as Azriel entered the room slowly. He crossed to your bag and tipped the contents back onto the bed, his shadows curling into him. 
“I know you’re here YNN” You didn’t respond to him, his eyes still fixed on your clothing until shadows darted from his side and pinned you against the silver wallpaper of your room.
“Agh! Cheater!” You called back, dissolving the mist of invisibility you had built. 
“You know I will always find you, no matter where you run to” He smiled sweetly at you before glancing at the emptied bag of your belongings. 
“I know, an annoying characteristic of yours that I love” You laughed, his shadows releasing their hold allowing you to return to pack your bag at Azriel’s side. 
“She was being an idiot, you know no one blames you for what happened?” You didn’t reply to his gentle words. For centuries you fought the demon in you blaming you for that night, how you might have stopped it if you hadn’t been licking your wounds. Countless times the Inner circle absolved you of blame, reminded you that regardless you wouldn’t have been able to stop a High Lord and his son, how no one ever for an ounce of time thought you should pay the penance you had set on yourself. 
“Cassian is downstairs reprimanding her, pretty sure she’ll be getting the silent treatment for a while” he added.
“That shit probably turns her on”
“So snarky for, what was it? A former party girl whore?” He laughed back at you, your eyes finally returning to his, your own grin forming. 
“If the shoe fits” You held up your disregarded pump from last night's antics, Azriel taking it from you, his marred hands dusting off the now-dried peat.
“Well, hopefully, the whore part doesn’t fit you anymore” he looked from the satin fabric forever stained back to you. 
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” You chuckled, returning your clothing back to the rucksack, his free hand taking hold of yours as it made its way to gather more articles of clothing.
“I would actually, tell me, tell me about the males who try with no success and great success. Tell me so I may hunt them down and destroy them for ever thinking themselves worthy of the moon, a beauty we mere Earth dwellers may only admire from afar. Tell me YN, tell me so I may stop searching every room I enter in hopes I find you there and not wrapped around some other male. Tell me so I can find comfort in the invisibility you are blessed with that I am cursed with. Tell me, party girl, tell me so I can move on from you” Azriel’s words hung in their honesty between you like apples on a tree. Yours to take or yours to leave. 
“How-how do you always know where to find me Azriel?” You found yourself asking, your eyes looking from his down to the shoe he held. He would always come for you before you even knew you needed him, always there to your rescue or support. Always there to defend your antics to Cassian when he feared his sister was lost to her old self again. Always there to pull you back before you could meet that old self again. Always there. 
“I think you know YN” his voice like smoke and glowing embers, comforting you as it always did, tethering you to him like it always did. Tethering. 
“You’re my mate” It came out like a statement, not a question, a statement of something always true but not always obvious to you. Had your gift been obscuring the truth from you or had it been your own selfish ways, it didn't matter, what mattered was-
“Yes, I’m your mate, yours YN but you are free to be anyone else's or no one’s at all, I will not add to the gilded cage” he dropped the shoe, moving to release your hand only to find yours tighten its grip, charged with a quiet intensity that had never been there before. His hand lifted, trembling slightly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear, last night's make-up probably still smudged in your waterline. The touch lingered, his fingers tracing the curve of your cheek until your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned into the touch, the warmth of his palm soothing every frayed nerve that ever jolted in your body. Azriel leaned in, unable to deny himself any longer, knowing now that you wanted this to. That you wanted him. The kiss was gentle, glowing like a realisation that all you had both ever wanted had always been down the hall from one another. His hand found the back of your neck, pulling you in closer as you reassured him with soft breaths that you wanted this, wanted all of him. Never wanting it to end but also not wanting to suffocate. You separated with somewhat sharp breaths, oxygen flooding your blood again. 
“How long did you know Az?”
“The night Spring took our family and I found you passed out at the end of your bed, your back still raw from that sick sick cruelty of our blood-” his hand travelled from your neck down to your shoulderblades, the small mounds of scars pressing into the soft fabric of your shirt “-I lifted you into your bed and just, just stayed watching you all night from your vanity chair, watching your breath and holding my own breath every inhale you took, waiting for the exhale. You used to really scare us YN”
“I know” You ran the back of your hand down his cheek, soaking up the stray tear that leaked from his eyes. 
“I-I never admitted this to anyone but I felt-I felt relief finding you there, that-that they didn’t take you too, that they didn’t hurt you like they hurt them” his head dipped in shame, a secret he held since that night. You kissed him sweetly then, pushing away his growing sorrow. 
“I’ll admit the same to you, I felt relief when I found out you didn’t accompany Rhysand to Amarantha’s ball like you were supposed to, that she didn’t get you too” You dipped your glance briefly at your admission before Azriel surprised you by smiling. 
“Rhysand has terrible friends, one of them is trying to fuck his sister-in-law and two others are glad it's him and not them that the terrible things happen to” You laughed at his obvious parody of your lives. You sat on the bed, the rucksack sinking into the bed beneath your hips, Azriel joining your side. 
“Where were you going to run to?” He found his curiosity asking, his shadows swirling lovingly around you. 
“There’s this party at this old bunker in Winter Court I was going to check out”
“An old bunker? Are they ever in buildings that haven’t been condemned?” he chuckled, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. 
“Not any good ones” you returned the laugh. 
“Are mates welcome?” 
“I don’t know does the whole mate thing really go with the party girl whore image I apparently projected” 
“Maybe that's okay too” he smiled, your head leaning into his shoulder.
“I think so too”
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Whatcha think???
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olyphant-tim · 8 months ago
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RAYLAN GIVENS + @timothyolyphant's reactions happy birthday, sarah! 🥳💕
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surielstea · 6 months ago
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The Best I Ever Had
Based on this request.
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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
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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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froggywizzard · 1 month ago
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Lucien is the only fictional character (male or female) I imagine having children. Even more, I'm ROOTING for him to have children. Lots of children. Boys, girls, they/thems. I usually don't care for children in fiction and children as an end goal/ pregnancy trope makes me angry.
But man, with Lucien? I want them kids. Screaming, running around, having fun. Helping their father fish. Learning how to care for their homestead and making lovely gift for their mother. I wanna see him teaching them woodworking and how to sew. I wanna see him hugging them and telling them he loves them. Telling them stories of his adventures.
I wanna see Lucien happy and surrounded by people that love and admire him.
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notbecauseofvictories · 6 months ago
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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.
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badxwolf · 1 year ago
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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.
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thisblogisaboutabook · 8 months ago
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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
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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.
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lucienarcheron · 8 months ago
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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.
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jaynaneeya · 5 months ago
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Raise a glass to Sinéad Persaud!
Happy Birthday, Sinéad!!! I hope you have a fabulous day and year. Thank you for sharing your brilliant, clever, creative stories with the world. Here's to another year of TV writing and Shipwrecked projects and dreams coming true 🥂
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from-the-clouds · 2 years ago
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texas sun - joel miller x f!reader - vol. viii
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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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acotarxreader · 2 months ago
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Flower
Azriel x Reader (Rhysands sister)
Synopsis: You and Azriel are sent deep into the mountains in search of a flower that may save Feyre's life during childbirth but quickly the frenemy status is put to the test as past trials come to a head leaving you to decide between your new sister and the potential love of your life.
Warnings: Fluff,, teasing angst, frenemies, physical fighting, mentions of wing damage/loss, blood, sweetness, silliness, Az calling the reader Kid.
A/N: You voted for it so here it is, my next Azriel fic. I enjoyed writing this, did it kinda quickly so forgive any mistakes and let me know what you think!
P.s I named Rhysand and Readers sister Aruna which means Moon in some languages.
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“We’re lost Azriel”
“We’re not, you have no trust in me, this is basic Illyrian training” Azriel pushed an elongated branch from his path, releasing it thoughtlessly to smack you into the chest, a small yelp leaving you. 
“Fucking hell!” You swiped the pollen markings it left from your chest, knotting your face into a scowl towards the back of the Spymaster's head. 
“Next time duck” he called back, grin-laced words.
“Next time pick someone else to accompany you on your wild goose chases” Your boot sank into the uphill climb, the mud sinking its teeth into the well-worn leather as you fought with your lungs to keep breathing. 
“You were chosen for official Night Court duties by an official member of the Night Court government, have a little pride”
“An official Night Court prick more like” You muttered in reply to Azriel’s faux-inflated self-importance. Two days ago you had left Velaris, in pursuit of a special medicinal flower, Madja’s hope to save Feyre from the birth of her child. You had been hiking upwards for what felt like all 48 hours of your journey, your calves practically speaking to you now. 
“Do they not cover outdoor pursuit in your healer apprenticeship?” Another branch slapped into from the direction of the Spymaster.
“Do they not cover manners in Windhaven?” 
“You’ve known me for centuries, you know they don’t teach manners” He grinned, your sure footing overtaking his position as he held back a thicket of branches for you. You rolled your eyes as you passed him, missing his clear deception. Your foot snagged on a millennia old root system of an ancient tree, sending you finally downwards on your travel to bump along a forgotten path for a few seconds before another primeval tree stopped your course. Azriel shot with his usual agile step down after you. 
“I didn’t think you’d fly that far” He laughed down at you, your clothing covered in moss and mulch from your trip. 
“This is it, this is where you kill me. This was all a plot, all those centuries as the best pain in the ass culminating in this fake trip, Feyre isn’t even pregnant is she?!” You threw your arm across your forehead in fake dramatics, feining pain as he Azriel rolled his eyes before offering you a hand to pull you up. 
“I think if I was going to kill you, I’d have left Cassian to drown you that time we went swimming when we were 40”
“Ah, the last time I went swimming with you fools” You took his hand as he hauled you up, your muscles settling back into their place after their 360. You both continued your hike with some element of hurry but also with comfort.
“You used to love swimming with us and I mean c’mon I stopped him, no points for that?”
“You only stopped him because the death of Mor’s favourite cousin would have meant your certain death”
“I’m telling Rhysand you said that”
“Fine by me, he knows” You smirked before skipping along, hands behind your back in rested peace, your head gazing up through the canopy, the stars beginning to sparkle down over the moon-bathed forest. Azriel marvelled towards you, somewhat enamoured at the strong sense of peace radiating from his best friend's sister. You stretched above the sunken path towards a low-hanging branch, bright blush berries glowing in the scarce light. Your linen shifted slightly from your skin as you reached, revealing the troves of scars and chasms from the savagery of Spring's deepest betrayal of Azriel’s chosen family. You turned to him, a childlike grin as your cheeks filled with the lush fruit, a small laugh leaving Azriel as he gently shook his head. 
“Come here Kid, you’re all berry” He smiled, running the back of his sleeve down your cheek, banishing stray seeds until you pushed his arm away. 
“I’m like 10 years younger than you Gramps” 
“And I’ll always take care of you because of it” Soft tones of sincerity radiated from the Spymaster, his usual sarcasm towards you banished for a moment of truth. 
“Until you get old and frail and I send you to a retirement camp, you have about five good years left my friend” He shoved you back with a laugh, moment over. 
Another hour of so of what felt like aimless walking culminated in the both of you scaling prehistoric trees to settle in the canopy for rest, safe from the creatures roaming below in search of their next meal. 
Leaks of light snuck through the budding Spring flush of growth, crossing Azriel’s eyes until he stirred from his sleep. He sat up from his hammock, to look over to the adjacent tree to find your sling empty. 
“YN?” He yawned out, stretching as the branches creaked with the movement, your lack of reply had him calling out again. Azriel’s boots nearly split the soil on landing as he tried his best to keep his imagination from running away with his logic. He always woke up first and always had to haul you from your sleep, you were famously not a morning person. He called louder into the forest, listening back for any reply or clue as to where you’d run off to. He found his step quicken to match his heartbeat as he transversed great ground quickly. Light flashed around him as he found the edge of one of Illyria's many mountainous lakes, to see your silhouette floating in the centre of it. 
“YN!” He roared out, no response from you as his imagination very much took control. Without full consciousness, he tossed his over jacket to the ground, his heavy boots taking a spot next to it as he waded quickly into the silty lake, still calling for you. His feet could no longer touch the muddy bottom as he reached you in the centre of the still lake.
“YN!!!” A marred hand met your abdomen as the other found your lower back beneath the water, forcing your body up where you jolted out of your trance, thrashing water as you kicked your legs awake. 
“What the fuck you frightened me!” You pushed back from his hold, wrapping your arms around your waist, your snowy tank top clinging to your wet skin.
“You frightened me! What are you doing out here?” He pushed his wet hair from his face, allowing the colour to return to his face. 
“I was getting the moss and leaves out of my hair after yesterday’s little escapades, no need to lose your head” You shot back, before beginning to swim back to shore.
“I was calling for you! I thought something terrible happened to you!” Azriel allowed uncharacteristic anger to leech through his words as you both met the shore again. You turned your back to him as you wring out your hair, the drips of water creating mud in the dust. The soaked fabric clung to the fissures in your back where your wings once sat proudly, Azriel swallowed deeply at the sight, trying to keep the crime from inflating his anger further. You turned at his silence, noticing the path his eyes would have followed. 
“Something terrible already did happen Azriel” You bit, snatching your overshirt from the ground to shroud your scars, your shaking hands attempting to lock the buttons into place as the dots connected in Azriel’s head. 
“Is-is that why you don’t swim anymore? You don’t want people to see-to see what they did?” You looked up slowly through your eyelashes, hands on the final button before uprighting yourself completely. 
“The world should know what they did to me, what no amount of healer study I do can fix, what Tamlin’s fath- what that Court did to me, to my mother to my sister-” You bit out, the anger heating your skin seemingly drying the beads of water on your flesh “-and they will one day when Rhysand decides, when I am once again of use to my Court”
“YN, you’re of use now” he attempted to silence your inner voice escaping into the world, only to have you raise a palm. 
“To answer your question, no, that’s not why I don’t swim with you anymore, I don’t because Aruna loved it and the water feels wrong without our little sister-” Cold burning rage that Azriel was accustomed to seeing in Rhysand but never from you filled the space between you. 
“Now, let's go find that flower and go home, I’m not losing another sister” Azriel only nodded before leading the way back to the make-shift camp in contemplative silence. 
The next few hours carried that thematic silence through the woods, only the occasional check-in broke it up. You didn’t even comment when Azriel released multiple branches in your direction or when you definitely passed the same boulder twice. The soles of your shoes were leaving imprints on your feet but you stayed silent, refusing to give Azriel the satisfaction of being right when he told you to change your shoes. 
Azriel swung around to you on his heels as you released a blood-curdling scream from your exhausted lungs, a nearby bird fleeing the tree top at the raised alarm. His face lost any flush of colour as his eyes locked on the arrow piercing through your right thigh. He moved quickly to guide you to the floor as you screamed, blood spurting free from your flesh. In one swift movement, Azriel shielded you from another targeted arrow, it splicing one of the veins of his wings as he winced. 
“Azriel!” You cried, your shaking hand going towards the bloodied arrow. 
“Stay down!” He ordered, pulling some shrubbery over you as you crowed, his century-long training kicking into action as he launched in the direction of the ammunition. Tracking and trailing as fast as he could until he found the perpetrators, two members of the Hybern army armed to their teeth in weaponry. Azriel launched into swift movements, like a well-learned dance with vicious precision. 
Meanwhile, you snapped the long end of the arrow, leaving the cruel head with its teeth buried in your flesh. You pulled yourself up, desperate to follow the sounds of your best friend and his battle cry. Your hobbled step worked perfectly with your exhausted feet, sending you crashing for a second time this trip, down a bank to a stream. The welcomed thud of a great tree stopped you before you could enter the rushing water. You lifted your face from the squelch of the river clay, hazy eyes landing on a brilliantly blue flower, growing like a solitary soldier between ancient rocks. You groaned as you pushed up from the mud, your detour causing the head of the arrow to be pushed in further. You managed to snatch the lifeline from its home, tucking it into your pack before beginning your laboured ascent up the steep bank. The definition of an uphill battle as you fought against the overgrowth, using deep root systems like rescue ropes until you reached the mouth of the bank again. Your faltering step carried you in the direction of the Spymaster, who was deep in his own entanglement. You watched as Azriel slashed the leg of one soldier before pressing the other into a knotty tree trunk, his blood soon covering Azriel as Truth Teller dealt its fatal blow. 
“Azriel!” You shrieked in warning as the other soldier regained some strength, just as Azriel turned to your voice, a green-soaked blade slid into the Shadowsinger’s wing releasing pressurised blood systems.  The advantage didn’t last very long before Truth Teller claimed another victim, the soldier slumping to the ground with a final breath. Azriel stumbled backwards, his adrenaline fleeting until the support of a large oak met his back, allowing him to slide to the cool ground. 
“Az!” You yelped, limping to collapse next to his side, pallor growing across his face. You ran a hand over the wound, bright scarlet mixing with the sickly poison of a blade. 
“I told, I told you to stay” He spoke with gritted teeth, attempting to sit more upright against the tree. 
“You know I try my best to never listen to you” You smiled weakly, tears beginning to threaten the rim of your eyes as Azriel’s head dipped to fall on his chest. You moved quickly to prop his head up, his eyelids like lead as the poison worked through his system.
“We have to get you help, we have to get back”
“I-I can’t winn-ow both of-of us” Huffs of air left Azriel.
“Winnow yourself, I’ll figure it out” He lifted a heavy eyelid open, looking down to find your wound weeping fresh blood, swirling into his own. 
“The-re there could be mor-more of them out here YN, you-you have to be the one to-to go” 
“No!” You began digging through your pack, pouring the canteen of drinking water you had over his wound, trying to flush as much of the sick serum out as you could. The cobalt shimmer of the flower caught your eye again as you dug through for more water, looking from its bright colour to the dullness in your best friend. You began mashing it up into the lid of the canteen, its healing powers flowing into the water as you shook the two lifelines together. 
“YN you-you found it”
“I did Az and you’re going to drink it” He pushed away slightly from you. 
“Its-its for Feyre, get it to Feyre”
“I’ll figure that out, you need it Az” You held the lid of the canteen to his lips, Azriel turning his head from it despite his screaming nerves calling out for its relief. 
“Kid, it’s too-too valuable, give it to Feyre”
“You’re too valuable Az! I’m not losing you too, for once in your Godsdamn life don’t fight me! Let me look after you for once!” You grabbed the nape of his neck, tilting his head back to help the liquid into his mouth despite his futile protests. The sacred serum swirled through his system, like a torch in a blackout, defending off the tar-like liquid that tried to clog his system. You took your overshirt from your skin, ripping the clean sections free to soak in the remaining drips in the lid before applying it to the wound. 
“No YN, use-use it on yourself” He tried his best to push your arm away, unable to find the strength to allow you to make contact with the tattered spine. Unbeknownst to you, in your adrenaline-fueled state, your trousers were becoming laden with the blood spurting from your wounds. You sat back on your ankles, two Azriels dancing in your double-vision. You forced your eyes close, trying to banish one of the Azriels away, the swirl of blood loss becoming a bit too much as you fell back on your side, using a weakened arm to prop yourself up. 
“YN! You’re okay Kid! You’re gonna be okay, stay awake” Azriel turned himself onto his knees, his strength finding its way back to him as his hands met the soft skin of your cheeks, blood leaving them to rush towards your open wound. 
“I knew you’d be the death of me” You gave a weak laugh, your head rocking slightly from side to side. Azriel gave a small smile before closing the space between you, his medicinal-soaked lips meeting your frosted ones. Pulses of energy beat between you both, like everything that has ever happened both good and bad didn’t matter before this moment, each other’s lifeline in every sense. The traces of the river flower pulled you back from the brink with the essence of Azriel’s every being guiding you home. Shadows leapt around you both, pulling you both through the space until cool, clean stone laid under your legs. Azriel pulled back from you, his thumbs tracing over your cheeks as your eyes fluttered open. 
“Are you kissing my sister?” Rhysand stood from his desk to look down at his closest allies, in a ball on his office floor. Cassian leapt to help you up, lying you down on the chaise before Rhysand went to pull Azriel to his own feet. 
“It-it was to save her life” Azriel had thoughts of wishing the arrow had finished him off. 
“Likely story” Rhysand laughed, guiding his dear friend to his desk chair before sending for Madja. Cassian busied inspecting your battle wounds.
“We were attacked and-and they poisoned me and YN she-”
“-she gave you the flower?” Rhysand sank to Azriels eyelevel, searching for answers in the stormy eyes of the Spymaster. Azriel nodded gently, his head hanging in both shame and exhaustion. 
“It's okay Azriel, I wanted it for my mate, YN wanted it for hers” Azriel’s head shot back up to look at the High Lord's grinning face. Rhysand raised his hand to his face, making a locking motion at his lips before standing again, Madja quick on the scene to help. 
—-------------------
5 years later 
Azriel stood at the water's edge, the small lapping of the lake at his feet, the sun warming his wings as he stretched in the healing heat, a small V-shaped scar left in one of the spines. He allowed his eyes to fall close, inhaling the scents of the forest and the whoosh of the gentle breeze. 
“Argh!” He flinched at the sudden wave of cold water meeting his face, rubbing it from his eyes until he opened to see you stood, waist-deep in the lake and laughing. 
“You’re dead” He laughed before wading in as you roared with laughter, attempting to swim away from him to your friends. You took Nyx from Cassian’s arms as Azriel reached you. 
“I have the baby!” You laughed. 
“Oh weak move YN, hiding behind a child” He tilted his head back in laughter, Nyx kicking water up at his uncle, his own fit of giggles leaving him. 
“Not you too Kid! Betrayal!” Azriel chuckled, wiping the water from his face that Nyx quickly replaced again. You hugged Nyx close into your chest, Azriel paddling closer to you, his arms wrapping around the both of you, his hands tracing down the scars on your back, melting into the deep fissures on his hands, making the skin feel whole again. 
“Hey Az! Someone’s awake!” Rhysand called from the shoreline before bending down to the travel cot, pulling your baby from her cocoon, still swaddled in plush towelling. Cassian took Nyx from your arms before tossing him high in the air, Feyre immediately lecturing him. You and Azriel went laughing to the shore again, stray splashes escaping you both. Azriel took the baby from his brother's arms, kissing her head softly as she looked up at him, his entire world. 
“Hello Flower” 
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Whatcha think?
ALSO! There are over 500 of you lovelies!!?? That's so crazy!!! Thank you so much for all of your kind words and support my friends! -C
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olyphant-tim · 2 years ago
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TIMOTHY OLYPHANT + filmography (insp.) happy birthday @timothyolyphant!
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surielstea · 3 months ago
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Burning Love
1k celebration request
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Pairing: Eris x Fem!Reader (Mor’s sister)
Summary: When Eris isn’t around to keep her protected, the reader is surrounded by predators.
Warnings: Canon-typical violence (not inflicted by Eris) | Cursing | slight angst | fluff at the end :)
2.7k words.
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Eris had left begrudgingly this morning for a patrol mission on the edge of the Autumn Court's border. He hadn't wanted to leave my grasp, and he most definitely hated every step closer he took towards the door after looking back to see me peacefully asleep in his bed, nude and desirable beneath his sheets that were screaming his name to come back, while I happily returned to the depths of sleep.
So it had been my surprise when he still hadn't returned home by supper. The fact put me on edge. The continent was still plagued with monsters and beasts from the high queen's reign, her imprint on Prythian was like roots that rot the second they meet the air. I was terrified something had happened to Eris during his travels, it was only supposed to be a simple mission, so why wasn't he back?
Dinner was eaten in silence. I hated the way the Vanserra brothers looked at me when Eris wasn't around. Blatant staring the way a scientist might observe a mutant creature, all of it is utterly dehumanizing.
I fist my skirts beneath the table, staring down at my unfinished plate. It was hard to have an appetite while being watched by foxes, waiting to pounce at any vulnerability I showed. It wasn't until a few of the others left that I felt comfortable with excusing myself. Their chairs creaked under their weight and scraped at the beautiful wooden floors as they stood, lazily bowing to their father before leaving the dining hall.
"Apologies, my lord," I stand as well. "Would it be alright if I retreated to my bedroom, I didn't sleep well last night and I'm quite tired," I explain. The high lord of autumn just looks up at me, his wine glass halfway to his mouth, as if debating on taking a drink or not. He doesn't reply for a long stretch of silence, seems like my question too, needed debating. I mistakenly look to Kyden, one of Eris' crueler brothers and he only smirks up at me. I avert my gaze immediately and look back to Beron.
"I suppose, see to it that you don't grow weary tomorrow night," He drawls and I curtsy in a low, respectful dip, silently gritting my teeth at the action. "Of course my lord, good evening," I give a nod to the Lady of Autumn and she diminutively returns it.
I gather my skirts in my hands and leave the dining hall with a small frown, hoping Eris would return before sleep found me first. I was halfway to my room when I heard my name called in a playful, bloodcurdling voice that I wished I hadn't recognized.
"Lord Kyden," I turn to the second eldest Vanserra, giving him a small bow, not nearly as polite as the one I gave his father.
"Going to bed already?" He paces closer, his hands in his pockets casually as he stares at me with acidic yellow eyes. I simply nod. "Why don't you go help my mother with the dishes instead?" He suggests and my brows crease in confusion.
"Excuse me?" I babble out, the suggestion so outlandish it took me by surprise.
"I think you could learn a thing or two about how a woman should act since you feel so inclined to hide in your bedroom," He surmises and I nearly scoff, who the hel possessed him to say such a thing?
"I'd be welcome to wash my own dishes but— with all due respect, it's not my job to clean up after you—" I start to explain but he puts his hand up, making me clamp my mouth shut.
"Oh gods, don't tell me you're just like your whore of a sister," He rubbed his eyes like the thought was making his head ache. My brows form a straight line, my anger evident in my features.
"Morrigan has nothing to do with this," I say and he reaches forward, grabbing my wrist in his hold before I can swerve. "Get your hands off of me," I attempted to pull from his hold but his grip was iron.
"Oh c'mon doll-face, you know I was just joking don't you?" He smiled down at me, his holding my wrist left our proximity to be much closer, so much so that I could still smell the dinner on his breath. I grimaced at the smell.
"Let me go." I keep my ground, glaring up at him with hardened eyes, the most threatening prey could look to a predator.
"Are your feelings hurt? Is that it?" He hums and I pull at my wrist but his grip doesn't loosen. "Why don't we go to my room and you can let me apologize appropriately, hm?" He smirks at the idea and I scowl up at him, attempting to twist my wrist from his fist.
"I'm betrothed to your brother," I grit out.
"And?" He tilts his head as if he wasn't just degrading Morrigan for sleeping with a male when she was already promised to someone else. "Don't be a prude doll," He said, his voice dropping lower. Was that the scale in his head? If I don't sleep with him I'm a prude, but if I do I'm a whore? What kind of power system was he raised on if Eris turned out the exact opposite? "Let me show you how a real man treats his women." His hand comes up to my cheek and I jerk away from the all too comfortable touch.
"You'll never be half the man Eris is," I retort and the sadistic fuck smiles, like he needed a reason to hate me and he finally got one. His hold on my wrist didn't tighten, but it did begin to, burn.
I hissed at the pain, pulling at my wrist but the pain only doubled over, my skin now being scorched beneath his touch. "Stop it," I seethe, staring at him in pure warning. "Beg me," He demands and I swallow thickly, staring at him for a moment but the searing at my raw skin spikes, and my breath hitched. "Let me go," I spit, writhing my arm from his grip but it was no use. "You heard me, beg." The word made me physically sick.
But the pain was immense and I feared he'd char me down to the bone until I gave in. An abandoning feeling gutted me open as I whispered a soft, "Please?" My request barely reached my own ears.
"Can't quite hear you?" He leans closer, putting his ear towards me, and while he wasn't looking I swung my leg up and thrust the heel of my shoe straight into his groin. He exclaims in pain, releasing my wrist. I didn't have time to watch him buckle to the floor, instead, I spun on my shoe and sprinted as fast as I could back to my room. "Fuckin' bitch," Is all I manage to hear from the male before I hastily turn the corner of the large house. I got a few odd looks from maids walking the halls with concerned expressions on their faces. I cradled my wrist as I sped to a stop in front of Eris' bedroom doors, two of his guards on either side of the archway.
I knew these guards, Eris trusted them, even liked them a little more than the others. They both looked at me with their brows bunched, noticing my wrist was growing increasingly red.
"Can you two—" I pant out, tired from both my lack of sleep and sprinting in heels. "Can you two keep everyone out of this room?" I say through breaths with pleading eyes. They look at each other with unreadable expressions, then back to me. "Of course my lady," The one on the right says while the left one opens the door for me.
"Thank you, gods, thank you," I sigh gratefully but they only nod as I enter the room, and shut the door behind me.
I release a breath of relief. The last of the sunset seeped through the sheer curtains and I debated for a moment on sliding onto the floor and giving into sleep right then and there but my wrist was throbbing like a heartbeat, already blistering with an angry red. I wince when I look down at it, blinking away tears. I didn't want to shed any for Kyden, he wasn't worth it even if the pain was consuming my entire body, feeding up my arm and swelling in my chest.
I groan, pushing off the door and willing my legs to march towards the bathing chamber, shucking my heels off in the process. I leaned against the bathroom counter as I ran the water. I knew how to treat a burn. I've lived in a house full of temperamental fire-wielding males since I was eighteen, this wasn't foreign to me. But the damned pain never got any easier.
I ran the water and forced myself to place my wrist beneath the water. The searing doubled over and a scream beckoned at the back of my teeth but I didn't let it slip. I waited through the agony, waited, and waited for what felt like an eternity until the pain eventually seceded. Tears were forming in the wells of my eyes as I began patting the wound dry after cleaning it.
I opened the cabinets to the right of me in search of gauze or some kind of wrap to loosely protect the blisters from any infections.
The door to the bedroom opened and I froze, stopping my rummaging and silently pressing myself against the bathroom door, barricading it just in case the guards hadn't stayed true to their word and let Kyden enter anyway, he was a lord after all.
A soft knock makes me tear from the door. "Love?" A familiar voice calls. "You in there?" Eris says through the wood of the door and I buckle as the weight of dread slips from my shoulders and suddenly I can't hold in my tears anymore. Unsolicited sobs pass through my throat and I lean onto the counter for support, praying my body doesn't betray me more than it already has, which would result me on the floor.
"I'm coming in, alright?" He says and I can't bring myself to reply as the door slowly creaks open.
I look up at him, cradling my injured wrist. He looks at the wound, then looks to me with an obscene amount of grief bunched between his brows. "Oh, my love," His hands come up to my jaw, his thumbs rubbing at my cheeks and wiping at my tears. The contrast between his touch compared to his brothers made me shiver, I hadn't realized how soft he was with me until now and it only made my tears come faster.
"What happened?" He stepped closer, guiding my head up to look at him but I could only continue crying, unable to voice how grateful I was for his love. "I— I can't," I weep, unable to get my emotions under control as my sobs slowly morph into hyperventilation.
"Hey, hey, you're okay," He guides me back, reaching down ever so slowly and hoisting me up onto the counter. "I'm here, you're safe alright?" He brushes my hair from my face and I sniffle, nodding. I let his words sink in and he stared at me with only devotion in his eyes, patiently waiting as I got my breathing under control.
"You alright?" He whispers and I nod, wiping my tears with the back of my hand in a slightly defeated movement. "Do you think you can tell me what happened? The guards said you were, distressed," He muttered, his voice just above a whisper.
I tell him what happened from the beginning, attempting to add every detail to the best of my capabilities since my heart rate hadn't fully calmed quite yet.
"Can I see?" His hands were slow and gentle as he cupped them over my clutched ones.
"Mhm." I remove my hand from around my wrist and place it in his outstretched hands, my brows furrowing as he examined it with hardened eyes, blood lust oozing off of him.
"Kyden did this?" He asked as if his brother wasn't powerful enough to even come close to emitting a spark. I nod. "I'm going to kill him," He promised lowly and I couldn't help but smile at the declaration, a soft giggle bubbling in my chest and slipping past my lips.
He looks up from my wound to my soft smile. "There's my girl," He whispered like his words were for only him to hear. "Let's get this wrapped up, yeah?" He tilts his head and I nod with another sniffle.
He goes to the cabinet I had been searching in and immediately finds a roll of gauze, then grabs a tub of ointment that would hydrate the affected skin.
We stay silent as he gently tends to my burn, loosely swathing the wrap before clasping it with a metal pin.
As soon as he was done, his touch remained light as he opened my hand and placed a loving kiss on my palm, looking at me with sheer devotion and I swore I fell for him all over again. "Why don't we get ready for bed?" He says casually, acting like my world didn't revolve entirely around him. I unconsciously nod but my feet aren't quite ready to meet the ground and I nearly go down. He chuckled. "I thought your wrist was hurt, not your legs?" He teases and I look up at him with a stubborn pout. "Alright, lean on me, I'll carry you." He opens his arms, welcoming me into them as he lifts me, my legs wrapping around his torso on instinct and my arms rounding the nape of his neck.
He carries me out of the bathing chamber and places me down onto the silk bedsheets, leaving my side for only a moment to change into something more comfortable for himself and grab a nightgown for me.
He returned to my side, undoing the corset of my dress and allowing me to impatiently thrash off my layered skirts until I was left mostly nude, save for my underwear. He slipped my softest nightgown over my head, I fed my arms through it, feeling like a child under his nurturing hand.
"Thank you, Eris," I murmur, looking up at him with only kindness and he matches the expression. "Yeah, whatever, just get in bed," He says with a blush creeping over his cheeks while gesturing me back into the pillows. I smile as I follow his embarrassed request.
He places himself beside me, leaning back against the headboard as I stare up at him. "I'm sorry I wasn't there my sweet," He runs a hand through my hair. "It's okay," I utter and he shakes his head. "It's not, I won't leave you again— you can come with me on my mission next time okay?" He says, a slightly stern tone to his voice.
"Okay." I nod.
"C'mere, come sit in my lap," He runs a hand through my hair once more before I sit up and place myself between his legs, leaning against his chest as he props his head up atop mine. The tears had stopped by now, and the throbbing in my wrist was replaced with the tune of Eris' heartbeat, my ear pressed to his chest, the steady sound comforting me.
"Tell me about your mission," I rasp, hoping he'd drone on about everything he did today, his voice has always guided me into sleep.
And he did just that, his fingers toying with the ends of my hair, his touch remaining delicate until sleep enveloped me with welcome arms, his voice slowly coming to a stop once he realized I had dozed off. He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on the top of my head. "Goodnight, love."
"Goodnight, 'Ris," I murmur, unable to even form my words around his entire name before sleep stole me.
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jarpadandjensens · 3 months ago
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Jensen Ackles | Michael Muller photoshoot lockscreens | for Sarah
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sarah-kings · 9 hours ago
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Giant: hey, has anyone seen the fun sized Halloween cand-
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doom-dreaming · 10 months ago
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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.”
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