#cedar x melody

[froggywentaprincin]

[zvmz]

A few Raven Queen HCs <3

she has a huge cd collection

it mostly consists of taylor swift, ed sheeran, and the neighborhood

she hates that she loves horror movies

she also loves rom-coms. her and dexter have that in common

her favorite movie is the princess bride

she rescued a black cat during halloween

she named her luna, she always sleeps at ravens feet at night

when theres some sort of explosion in Chemythstry, some students will try to blame it on ravens magic, forcing her to do extra credit work for Rumpelstiltskin

she realized she liked dexter back after 3 days in a row of completely obliterating her sleep schedule just to talk to him on the phone

she can play so many taylor swift songs on her guitar

dexter doesnt play the guitar, but he learned one song to play for her

her highest grade is in muse-ic class

shes had dinner with the families of cedar, cerise, maddie, and melody on multiple occasions

she is ALWAYS first in line when gingers bakery opens in the morning

yes ginger owns a bakery. right next to the mad hatters tea shop

she became really close to ashlynn and briar when they rebeled

briar took her rock climbing once

raven loves hanging out with briar, but will NEVER go rock climbing again

just realized this is a bit more that "a few" hcs LOL

she has anxiety about going to restaurants because once she was refused service simply for who her mom was

she has a small "pretty rock" collection on top of her piano

cedar and cerise will occasionally add to it

its like a love language fr

maddie is not allowed to add to it because she keeps putting things that definitely are not rocks and are possibly dangerous

she writes poems when shes sad

when shes happy she turns them into songs

[utterlyotterlyx]

Say Yes To Heaven

Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary - There was no bond that could compare to yours and Azriel's, not even in death.

Warnings - heart breaking angst and sadness, swearing, loss of a loved one, fluff, you're going to cry because I did before I even started writing this.

Work Count - 4.4k

Based on this ask

"I must be in heaven."

Prepare yourself...

Cedar had become your favourite scent.

It intoxicated you the moment he stepped into the room, the quiet male who kept to himself, shrouded in shadow, scanning the room intently whilst lingering toward the back of his clan.

Heart clenching in your chest, you examined him, the infamous spymaster of the Night Court who you'd never met before. He was beautiful, beautiful like moonlight and rain, and you beheld him with such grace that you never gave to anyone.

It was as though the universe knew, and as you glanced to him, you knew too. His stare hadn't found you yet, but he was looking for something, for someone, like he too could feel the gravitational pull that had taken hold of his essence the second he had stepped over the threshold of the ballroom.

A gold strapless dress clung to your figure, Helion's signature halo entrapped in your unbound waved hair. The candlelight embraced you in its golden glow, finding a kinship in you, and you basked in it. Originally from the Autumn Court, you had found a place in Helion's court as his second, his closest friend, his confidant. But something told you that the second the Shadowsinger looked to you, there was little Helion would be able to do to keep you.

Air escaped his lungs as he found the one his shadows had been whispering to him about. There you stood at the edge of the dais, your assigned place at the event thrown by your High Lord, skin glistening and eyes teeming with blissful shock. Your hands were folded in front of you, your shoulders were pushed back and your entire was poised and elegant.

Azriel cared little for court politics as his feet carried him absentmindedly in your direction, and not once did those hazel pools of torment move off of your face that was glowing in the light. He came to a stop before you, visibly breathless, and took your hand in his, feeling that pull swirl into a pit of yearning need in his stomach.

Sultry plucking of a harp consumed the room, an ethereal melody that possessed him like a siren did a sea merchant. A tune that was making him swoon, it complimented you and the moment perfectly.

Standing on the step below you, you looked down on him, expressionless but with soft features that he wanted to touch and etch into his memory. The world slowed, Azriel swore that it was you that stopped the world from spinning, to freeze time in that moment as that golden thread in his chest found its needle inside of your soul.

"Azriel," he told you his name, seemingly being the only thing he could coherently say to you, scanning your face in patient desire to hear one syllable fall from those lips with your hand still in his.

Tilting your head to the side, you smiled softly, "Y/N," your voice was angelic, soft like summer rain, as melodic as a lullaby.

Azriel had heard of you from Rhys who considered you to be a friend as much as Helion, you were a dream walker, able to tread along the line of the sleeping and living worlds unnoticed, to create and infiltrate the dreams of others, to throw your essence into the wind and see where she carried you.

A rare thing, so rare that you were the only known dream walker to walk Prythian in a millennia.

"I've been waiting for you," you dipped your head and smiled, a blush creeping up to your cheeks that made him grin at the captivating beauty of it.

Taking a step down from the dais, you peered up at the male whose wings were shielding you from the crowd of your friends no doubt staring at you both, a bewitching speckle of gold in your eyes, "So have I."

"I must be in heaven," Azriel smirked into your shoulder as he rolled his hips into yours.

He had dreamed of that moment, of having you laid bare beneath him, shuddering and moaning in delicious delight.

Azriel had waited months for it, he had waited as you took your sweet time to accept the bond, no doubt dragging it on purposefully to drive him mad, you were infuriating like that. He had waited until you had decided to leave Helion and settle your roots in Velaris, he had waited until you were ready to take that step, and not once did he complain or rush you.

The night you had accepted the bond formally was the same evening Azriel had moved you into the house he had ordered Rhys to build for you both the moment they had returned from the Day Court after meeting you. It was light and airy, it was brimming with warmth and love, it was the perfect harmony of both of your intertwined souls.

Azriel danced with you in the candlelight, holding you close to his chest and muttering his silent thanks to the Mother for the gift that was you, a mate who wasn't afraid of him, but who was instead enamoured by him.

It was that night you had cooked for him and assured him that you were ready, that he was everything that you ever needed and wanted. Azriel had gladly, and quickly, ate the meal you had presented to him before gathering you up in his arms and taking you to your shared bedroom.

"Say yes to heaven," you had breathlessly muttered back to him, your nails digging into the skin of his back and running along the thick membranes of his wings, "Say yes to me."

Azriel kissed you, moving inside of you like it was the only thing he was sure was right, that it was the only thing that made sense. Your bodies moulded together like molten gold in a crown casing.

"Yes. A thousand times yes," he spoke over your lips, grinning and capturing your lips in his own, running his fingers up your sides and furling them into your hair.

Entwined with you was the only place that gave him sanctuary, the only place where peace was able to find him and where the demons wouldn't dare journey to. Home.

Two hundred years of you.

Two hundred years of coming home and having you by his side, two hundred years of falling in love you with you more and more each day.

Not one bit of you had changed in that time, you were still the gentle, caring, loving soul that he met all those years ago. You still wore your signature gold, your eyes still sparkled with adoration when he walked into a room, even as your family grew with the additions of Feyre and her sisters, not once did your bond falter.

Even Rhys knew that he and Feyre couldn't compare to the bond you shared, a bond of tormented nightmares soothed by your touch, a bond of universe shattering love and yearning, a bond so strong that nothing would ever come between it.

Azriel never stopped smiling, he never lingered anywhere knowing that you were at home waiting for him, everywhere he went he took you with him, or a piece of you if you couldn't be there physically.

Rhys had sent your mate back to you with a smirk, noticing his incessant fidgeting on the chair before his desk, and Azriel didn't need telling twice before he bellowed from the house and soared into the skies, following your scent all the way to the hearth of your home.

You stood with your back to him, head peering over your shoulder like you had heard him coming from miles away, hair clipped up and spilling over your face, "Az," you breathed and rounded the seating area to bury your face in his chest, nuzzling into his cedar and warmth like a babe to a blanket. Azriel curled his arms around you, his shadows peppering your face in sweet kisses and dancing across your shoulders, "I've missed you."

The longest you and Azriel had ever gone without one another was a week, any longer and your bond would ache and crack, forcing you back together and humming in delight at the first featherlight touch before your bodies collided.

Cupping your face in his marred hands, hands that you had never grimaced at, he scanned your face like he did every time he returned to you, with glazed eyes, sketching your face to memory just so that he could dream of it when slumber took hold of him, "I missed you so much, my little dreamer."

His kiss was tender, full of exhaustion and need to have you close. Azriel scooped you into his arms, not being able to stop his lips from touching every bare patch of skin on show to him before he undressed you and made love to you for hours. Making sure that you knew how loved you were, how much he starved for you.

Once your head was nestled onto his chest and his fingers were tracing patterns into your shoulder, you felt him sigh, the exhale making your head drop a couple of inches. Craning your neck, you silently asked him what was wrong, your brows furrowing as he spoke, "Promise me that you'll always be by my side."

"I'll never leave you, Az."

"Promise me," he begged, "Promise me that you'll come back."

Caressing his cheek, your soothing voice uttered, "I'll come back. Even as a shadow, even as a dream. I'll come back, always. I promise," a familiar burning coiled around your forearm, blank ink swirled and settled into the skin that lay there, a matching one appeared on his forearm and you wound yourself into him as tight as you could.

Tensions were rising with the war against Hybern looming and you knew that he was terrified, you knew if it was only him, if he didn't have you, then he would be fine. But he wasn't ready to lose you or himself, not when he wasn't ready to stop loving you.

Azriel had flown into a blind rage once Cassian had told him what you had been ordered to do.

The war was looming, accelerating even, and Azriel was trying frantically to keep you out of it.

Rhys had ordered you to dream walk into Hybern, into the King's sick and twisted mind. It was the only leverage they had, that the King didn't know of you so wouldn't know how to prepare against your abilities. You'd be able to figure out his plans, you'd be able to warp his mind into making the wrong move.

It was an order that you had agreed to, albeit begrudgingly, "I can't do it here. If there's any chance he knows of me and can use my magic to trace it to the source, then I can't be here."

Rhys had made sure to keep Azriel out of the meeting, he had made sure to busy him with something else, he knew that he wouldn't allow it, and Rhys needed you to agree. It wasn't like he enjoyed coming between you two, he loved you like a sister, he doted on you and appreciated every single thing you did from his family.

After the cauldron, you were instrumental in healing both Elain and Nesta, you infiltrated their dreams and filled them with light, you plucked away the horror, much like you had done for Azriel when you had first began your relationship, and locked them away in the chest in your mind where the nasty things went. Even Feyre had leaned on you, and you had gladly done the same for her, coaxing away her sickness and making her into the powerful female she had grown into.

Your gift was serene, you very rarely used it to do something bad, but the King of Hybern was a monster, one that needed to be stopped, and the war was drawing closer, and they were running out of options.

"You're not going anywhere," Azriel had growled from the doorway, glowering like the devil in disguise at his brother before approaching you, running his fingers down the side of your face and placing his lips on your forehead.

"Az," you trailed off, taking his hands in your own and forcing him to meet your gaze, "We don't have a choice."

Azriel shook his head, "I can't be away from you," he was terrified, terrified that you leaving would mean that he would never see you again.

Tears bubbled in your eyes, "I know," your bottom lip wobbled, "But you can't come with me. This is a part of me that I'm not proud of, I don't want you to see this. You're needed here, you need to protect our home."

"You are my home, y/n. Not Prythian. Not Velaris or the darkness. You. You're my little dreamer, I need you here where I know that you're safe."

"If I don't do this then we won't have a home to come back to, we won't come back to each other like we promised."

"No-"

"Az, we don't have a choice," you cupped his face and his fingers curled around your wrists, "I can do this, and we can win. And then we'll go home to our little house by the Sidra and make all of those babies we talked about, okay?"

Silence, "Okay."

Turning to Rhys, you told him, "There's a dream walker temple on the edge of Summer. I'll go there, I work better at dusk," you focused back on your mate as the sun began to dip in the sky, "Take me home. Please."

One more moment, one more moment of your love consuming you before the realisation settled in that there was a real chance that you'd never see one another again.

Azriel stood on the grass of your home, clutching onto you with every fibre of his soul, "What if we don't-"

"Don't say it."

"Y/N," tears spilled down his cheeks as they did on yours, your hands were fisted into his shirt and your forehead was pressed against his.

Purple had began to float across the sky, a warning that time was waning.

"I will see you when dusk meets dawn. I will see you in the stars and clouds. I will see you again," you strained through strangled sobs, "I love you Azriel. Thank you for finding me and giving me two hundred years of love and wonder. Thank you for loving me and becoming the only home I ever needed."

"You rescued me from myself," he breathed, "I'll look for you. I'll dream of you. I would go through all of my pain over and over again if it means that you're waiting at the end of it. I'll see you on the other side of the stars, my little dreamer. I love you," he blinked hard and tears fell from his eyes, ones that you brushed away before kissing him deeply, "Go. If you don't go now then I'll never be able to let go of you. I can't watch you go. Please y/n."

Pressing your lips to his one more time in a featherlight embrace, you stepped from his arms, shuddering at the cold that shrouded you in that moment and sobbed at his outstretched hands that were searching for you.

And then you disappeared, you vanished before your mouth could betray you and tell him what you had both been dreaming of.

It had spent your energy but it had worked.

Your journey into his mind had been successful and once you rose from the golden stone floor of the dream walker temple and saw the sun loom on the horizon, you screamed the news and findings into Rhys' mind and simultaneously flooded the straining bond with love, sighing as a tidal wave of adoration flowed back to you.

You had to get there, you had to reach the battlefield and help. Being Helion's former second meant that you were a gifted warrior, and even living in Velaris hadn't allowed you to take a break from that part of your life.

Ash floated from the sky, landing on your face as you winnowed to the edge of the field and gasped at the sight. There were mangled bodies everywhere, there was screaming and crying, and fighting surrounded you like your own personal nightmare.

The sky was dark with smoke and you frantically tugged on the bond, begging it to lead you to your mate. There was a chance now, a real chance that you'd both be able to go home and live the dream you'd always wanted.

Blue flashed in the corner of your eye and you saw him, he was surrounded, back to back with Cassian as a circle of enemies encroached on their position. Glancing to your side, you ripped a steel tipped javelin from the body of a long gone foe, throwing it in the air and grasping it with a perfect grip before hurtling it through the sky, smiling as it ripped through a total of six enemies.

Azriel and Cassian both snapped to your direction in awe at the fact you'd just taken out a third of the enemies around them with one throw. Cassian chuckled and relished in tearing the rest of the males limb from limb whilst Azriel nodded to you, asking if you were alright and only waiting a single beat for your confirmation before he continued on his onslaught.

There would be time to reunite later.

The war was bloody and horrible, you had never enjoyed killing anyone, but you were a ruthless and formidable opponent, no one could have tore you down when you had met Mor on the battlefield and made fast work of clearing the area.

You continued to fight, you continued and fought with every ounce of energy you could spare. You fought through the cauldron breaking and Rhys dying, you fought through the last remaining minutes before the surrender.

You fought until you realised that you couldn't feel him.

Stopping dead in your tracks, you dropped your sword and glanced around, noticing that none of your friends were on the battlefield, you dropped you sword and ran. Struggling panting breaths flew from your lips as you ran, hurtling over piles of bodies and around healers scouring the grounds for souls to save.

The camps were brimming with bloody males and females, all being tended to, some happy and others in shock. You tugged on the bond. Silence. You tugged on it again. Silence.

A clearing appeared and you saw them, you saw Cassian with his head in his hands, you saw Rhys leaning against Feyre and her red puffy eyes. The skimming of rocks alerted them to your presence and Rhys darted to you, "Where is he, Rhys?"

Your thick braid waved around as your head whipped across the clearing furiously, "I can't feel him. Where is he?"

Rhys grasped your arms then, forcing you to look at him. The entrance to the tent flapped in the wind and you could faintly see the drooped wings trailing off the table. Rhys was struggling to speak, he was taking in your furrowed brows and wide eyes, the parted lips and the softly shaking head, "No. No," you said to no one in particular as you took a step to the side.

You reached for the bond again only to feel nothing on the other side and you gasped, taking a tentative step toward the flapping entrance of the tent and inhaling deeply, faded cedar and night kissed air.

Your heart had registered it before your mind had, it was shattering in your chest and you grasped your stomach as it swelled in pain, gasping as it settled. Cassian cradled you in his arms, not being able to say anything, but looking up at him confirmed it and you burst into the tent without a second thought, clasping the entrance closed behind you.

Light floated through the tear in the far corner, slicing across the floor and over his figure, but you couldn't move, you couldn't breathe.

"Az?"

Nothing.

"Azriel?" You took a step toward him, praying that he was just injured and asleep, but as you took one glimpse at his face, you crumpled to your knees.

There had never been pain like it, you clawed at your chest and crawled along the dirt to the hand that was outstretched to you, like he had reached for you just before he left. You nuzzled your cheek onto his palm, begging for warmth, for some form of life.

Cold greeted you and you screamed, you screamed a strangled cry and sobbed, pulling on his hand and cupping it over your face like he was going to wake up and curl his fingers around your chin and kiss you and cry with you.

But he wasn't.

You grasped onto the edge of the table where he lay and drank in his pale face, his body void of dancing shadows, and you crawled into the tiny space at his side, curling onto his chest and rubbing your cheek against his leathers, "You promised," you cried, muffled into his icy skin, and at the words, you felt a searing pain spread across your body, one of broken bonds and promises as your tattoos began to vanish one by one.

Only in death will you be free of our promises, my little dreamer.

"Please, please, bring him back. Give him back to me. I can't live without him. Please." Craning your neck, you peered up at him, at his closed eyelids and peaceful smile, like he had drifted off into slumber and was dreaming of you. "We had it, Az. We were there. We're having a baby. You need to come back to me."

Silence.

Heart breaking sobs flowed through you, so painful that Nesta had to enter the tent, a sob escaping from her own lips at the sight of you curled into Azriel's lifeless size, you had draped his arm over you, you were pressing your lips to the space below his ear, you were begging the Mother to bring him back to you.

"I was going to tell you after this, after we'd won. It would have made it all worth it, Our own little baby, our own little dreamer. Come back to me," your face crumpled, "You promised you'd never leave me."

Nesta approached, fingers outstretched to you and she placed a hand on your shoulder, watching painfully as you turned Azriel's head and placed your lips on his, sobbing against them and clutching your stomach, "I'll see you on the other side of the stars. I'll come back to you even if you can't come back to me. I'll dream of you every day. I love you, Az. I love you."

Mor refused to leave you, she cradled you as you cried and rocked you to sleep, she listened to your fearful sobs of going through your pregnancy alone, and she cried with you. They all cried harder, like air didn't deserve them when Nesta had told them of your condition, of losing Azriel and carrying his child.

Mor had continued to hold you as your body finally gave in and sleep confused your soul, carrying you to the place where the Mother knew where you needed to be.

Warmth floated over your figure, and your weary eyes opened, wincing at the light flitting through the open windows. Coffee and cedar clung to the air, and you shot upward, searching the landscape for the person you were breaking for.

"Hello, my little dreamer," his voice was like a symphony and you exhaled, straining your sadness in the action, and turned to the side to see him sat to your side. Azriel smiled sadly at you and thinned his lips, "I missed you."

A sob thundered through you and he was on you in an instant, cradling you to his chest and stroking your hair, "You left me."

"I know. I'm sorry, y/n. I'm so sorry," he pulled away and rested his forehead on your, tips of your noses touching and eyes scanning your face like they always did.

He was there but he wasn't, a symphonic figment of your imagination, or the Mother's final gift to you, to let you have him mentally if she couldn't allow you to have him physically.

"We're having a baby."

Azriel smiled, doing his best to contain his tears for you, he had to be strong for you, he was the one who had left you in the world of the living without him, "I heard you."

"You did?"

Azriel hummed, looking at you with adoration and wonder as his hand drifted to your abdomen, "You can do this," tears threatened to spill down his cheeks and he blinked them away furiously, "I know it's hard, and I know you feel alone, But I will always be here, you'll always be able to find me in your dreams."

"It's not the same," you strained, clutching hold of him like your life depended on it, which in that moment, it did, "I need you. Come back."

"I can't, my little dreamer," he caressed your cheek, stroking the reddened puffy skin with the pad of his thumb, "I'm too far gone. But I can stay here, on the edge of life and death with you until you want to send me away."

"I'll never send you away. I'll never let you go."

"We're having a baby," his voice cracked and you knew he was breaking, breaking at the thought of not being able to hold you during your labour or go to the bakeries to pick up your favourite sweet treats, of not being able to sing your babe into rest with his melodic voice, "I'm going to be a dad," you nodded, on the edge of breaking with him, he lowered himself to your barely there swell and ran his fingers over the surface, "You be good for her. She's the best thing that the Mother ever made. I'll meet you one day, when the time is right," then he moved back up to you, sketching your face to memory like he always did.

"On the other side of the stars?"

"On the other side of the stars," you confirmed, pressing you lips to his and letting him hold you in his ghostly embrace, allowing your two hundred years worth of love to consume you, "You'll be waiting there for me?"

Azriel ran his fingers down the slope of your neck and shoulder and pressed his lips into your hairline, "Oh my little dreamer, I'll wait a million years for my soul to dance with yours in the stars, and that day will be the best day of my existence."

Authors Note

I cried all the way through this, I broke myself oh my godddd

[readychilledwine]

Little One

Summary - After arriving home for the first time in 50 years, Rhysand is shocked to find someone so small in his sister's arms. (Azriel x Rhysands sister!oc)

Warnings - post UTM, broken Rhys, children

A/N - If this has posted, I have given birth and this is kicking off my maternity celebration. A lot of these next couple weeks will carry the theme of family. The good, bad, ugly, and happy sides of it. And of course, the angst and spice that comes with relationships. I wanted to start with a piece I wrote after my own brothers learned they were going to be Uncles for the first time, and will probably end the celebration with Light in the Hallway (dad!Eris x reader) because that piece is so... special to me.

"Well, welcome home!" Rhys nodded, looking at Cassian who was wearing a shit eating grin. Cassian kept looking at Azriel and back to Rhys. The high lord looked at Mor who was bouncing in place. Then Armen who was also hiding a smile.

Azriel was blushing, hiding in his shadows. Rhys was quick to notice the lack of black hair, golden skin, and long beautiful legs that normally stood holding Azriel's hands at all times. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

"Where's my sister?" Mor squealed at the comment, bouncing hard.

"You mean his wife?" Azriel shot a look to the blonde before his face grew more red. Rhys raised a brow before smiling ferally.

"Did you finally marry her? Azriel, that's-" Rhys face twitched to a half smile as the door opened and a familiar, "Where's my mate?" Came through the room.

He felt her exhaustion before he saw her. Her mind was a scattered mess of stress, and yet she was content and joyful. Rhys walked over to the doorway to the hall. He leaned against the framed out entry way from the greeting room to the living room watching the female.

Selene stood in the entrance, back to him as she removed her coat and then her heeled shoes. She was wearing a beautiful tea length black dress with tulle straps that tied over her shoulders. Her hair was longer, significantly longer, Rhys noted. "Stop staring Cassian."

Rhys smiled at the soft melody of her voice. The gentleness it held was a constant fresh air that comforted everyone around her. He cleared his throat, excited to see his baby sister for the first time in 50 years, "I apologize, Sel. I can't help but admire your beauty when I haven't laid eyes on you in so long." Selene instantly froze, her mind pausing to process the voice she heard. She moved again, standing up and stopping whatever she had been adjusting on the floor. She spun quickly, staring at him in shock.

He studied her face. It was truly the soft version of his. She had the same angular high cheekbones, the same starlight filled eyes, the same lip shape only hers were fuller. In fact, she in general was softer, fuller. She had gained a little weight, her breasts were fuller, hips a little wider. She was devastatingly beautiful before, but whatever had made her body scream "goddess" had Rhys thankful she was one of his spies and had not run off to another court.

She whispered softly, "Rhys."

"Selene."

They moved at the same time, her jumping into his chest, her arms finding his neck, his finding her waist. They laughed softly together. Rhysand's eyes closed as he took in the pleasant warmth of her body and the scent of flowers and honey. It took him a second, but his nose slowly processed something else. He dug his head into her neck, finding the scent of night air and cedar that clung to her skin. But there was something else.

Someone else. Rhysand's eyes snapped open while studying her. "Are you and Azriel welcoming other people into your bed again?" He smiled ferally at her, "The shields only been down for a day. He must be a good lover if you already ran off to him?"

The female threw her head back, her laughter ringing through the home like bells. She looked at Rhys, "One, your shields weren't that hard for me to get through. Two, we kind of are. Go sit on the couch and shut your eyes!"

Rhys raised a brow before following the orders of his sister. Mor was about to burst with joy, already holding back tears, Cassian was beaming. Armen smiled at Azriel as the shadowsinger softly smiled at Rhys. The high lord closed his eyes, "If this was a plot to kill me, just know im thankful it was your hands and not someone elses." Her laughter made him smile again as he heard her moving towards him.

The scent hit him again, stronger this time. He could finally place it. It was soft and spicy, as if it was still developing and wrapped heavily in the scent of Azriel. It reminded him of lavender and vanilla underneath all of the layer. Lavender, vanilla, and baby powder? Rhys questioned.

Rhys felt Selene's arms on his. She was moving gently and staying very quiet. In fact, the whole room had grown quiet as Rhys processed a soft fabric in his arms. As she removed her arms, leaving whatever she was holding in his hands, it hit him instantly. His eyes shot open, and a loud sob left his mouth.

"You had a fucking baby." Bright eyes stared back up at Rhys, studying him as Rhys raised a hand to stroke the rosy cheeks of the faeling in his arms. "Hi baby," He felt the first tear fall and didn't bother trying to hide the rest. "I'm your Uncle Rhys. What's your name?"

Azriel had moved, kneeling in front of Rhysand. He cooed his daughter softly as she stared up at her uncle with wide blue eyes. His blue eyes. His sister's blue eyes. "This is Estelle. She's just under a year old. I'm sorry we couldn't ask you about the name, but we just -" Selene and Azriel's jaws twitched. Selene had looked away and up, blocking the painful reminder.

"We knew," Cassian answered softly. "She looks just like sissy."

"She does." Rhys admired the tiny nose, chubby cheeks, and her perfect soft skin as he enjoyed this moment with his niece. She looked like a small version of his middle sister, the only key different was she had the same eyes as Rhys and Selene instead of the illyrian Hazel her namesake had inherited from his mother.

He held a hand out for Selene to take and the new mother did, moving to sit next to him. "Do you have everything she needs in all the houses?"

"We were only missing one thing, Rhys. And you're here now, so we have everything she needs," she answered softly, tears running down her own face. "I owe you some money and an apology, though. I had to break the shield for me to be able to get into Velaris, but I ensured Noone recognized me. I also spent a fair bit of money." She was playing with her long dark hair, guilt causing her shoulders to fall forward. "Cassian told me nothing she has could be used."

The high lord laughed, pulling his sister into him before kissing her head, "Oh no, how could you spend the money I would have spent on my niece anyways?" The sarcasm in his tone made the room laugh. "Should we get you and mommy matching dresses? Yes we should. My beautiful girls," Az hung his head in laughter before Rhys paused again, "You can feel the power in this little thing."

"She creates shadows-" Selene drug out the "s" as she avoided eye contact with Rhys.

"They're completely sentient. They have a mind of their own and only respond to her. They take the form of things she likes. Lately they have all looked like Armen. We also think something else is going on involving the stars. She almost… Glitters under the night sky." Azriel explained as his hand touched her head. Rhys looked to Amren, and the ancient being only smirked as she sipped her glass of spiced blood. Any ideas? He asked her silently.

Rhysand's eyes grew wide as he smirked at the giggling babe, her beautiful eyes locked on Auntie Amren, "Delightful. Tell me everything about her." The inner circle all moved to surround the High lord and new parents. Telling him stories about the baby girl chewing on his fingers before reaching out crying for her mother.

"I watched her rearrange the stars one night," Amren said slowly. "She must have missed Baba, because there's now a bat shaped constellation that wasn't there before. Isn't there, little one?"

"She's hungry. I'm sorry. I'll bring her right back," Selene moved with grace, collecting her daughter, and walking up the stairs, breast already mostly exposed as she cooed to the baby.

Rhys looked at Azriel and asked one last time, "You're sure you have everything she needs?"

Azriel smiled, "Like she said, you were the only thing missing. Stell has everything she needs, and I know we all will give her everything she could ever want." The inner circle nodded at the Spymaster's words. "Right now, the biggest argument we've had was if she'd continue tradition and we would take her to Illyria to train, or if we'd keep her here."

Rhysand watched as Cassian's jaw began a feather light twitch. "My niece is not training in Illyria unless things have changed completely and clipping is an offense punishable by death. Even then I will not leave her."

Azriel pinched the bridge of his nose. "So we forsake our culture? You and I know that will never happen. She will always be a target-"

"Another time, brothers." Rhysand smiled at them, stopping the argument that was about to ensure. "I'm taking the two of them shopping tomorrow. I'm buying everything Selene touches. I don't believe you have everything my little niece needs." Rhysand wanted to hear it one last time. To hear what she and Azriel both said and genuinely meant just one more time.

Azriel rolled his eyes, "She will not let you do that, Rhys. All that was missing was you."

[minaturefics]

Though I Know My Heart Would Break

Request: For the poll that Legolas won! You guys sent in a few prompts, I've incorporated: sick (injured, rather) fic, hurt/comfort, everyone lives, and reader confesses first! Hope you guys like it! (Title is from Hozier's Francesca that has me in a chokehold)

Legolas x Reader

Gender-neutral reader

Content warnings: Mild injury (no overly graphic descriptions)

3.7k words

---

You walked through the forest, ducking under the cedar branches, weaving between the cypresses. The air was rich with the scent of herbs — thyme and sage, marjoram and parsley. The late afternoon sun filtered in through the canopy, specking the forest floor with light. Legolas’ footsteps were silent on the soft ground, but the steady clopping of the horse he was leading reassured you of his presence.

With the coronation over, and Eowyn and Faramir wed, attention was turned to restoring Minas Tirith and setting up a settlement at Emyn Arnen. You and Legolas were tasked with surveying the land and forests around Emyn Arnen. Sam was curious about the plants, hearing how new and different they were to those back in The Shire, but Frodo’s reluctance to stray further than the Citadel kept him in Minas Tirith. 

You paused by a cluster of pink rockfoils, thumbing the thin stems before plucking a few small flowers and tucking them into a waxed pouch. 

“Mellon nin,” Legolas said, sounding half-amused, half-exasperated, “Why do you pause and pluck? You have been doing so since we arrived. ”

“They’re for Sam. He might have agreed to stay in Minas Tirith, but I saw the shade of disappointment in his eyes. I thought perhaps I could bring the forest to him instead.”

His lips tugged up at the corners. “And what will you give the forest in return?”

“What do you mean?” You frowned and stood. 

He smiled, soft and knowing, eyes wandering over the barks and branches. “These trees have been left at peace for many years, the bushes and shrubs untouched. They are not used to wandering fingers and restless feet.”

You glanced down at the patch of rockfoils, the decapitated stems looking more brutal in light of Legolas’ words. Your lips twisted and he chuckled, and your eyes drifted back to him.

He had always been so full of light and laughter, even during the endless days and dark nights, even after Gandalf fell, even after the hobbits were taken. Ethereal, that was what people said of the elves. Otherworldly. 

But he looked so human, so normal, standing in a patch of sunlight, laughing at the concerned expression on your face. There were smudges of dirt on his boots, dew dotting the bottom hem of his cloak, and even a small leaf lodged in his hair. 

Yes, Legolas has always just been Legolas to you. 

Perhaps that was why it had been so easy to lose your heart to him. How could you not? While the others regarded him with a deference, or awe in the hobbits’ case, or even confusion at his elf customs, he had never truly seemed so different to you. His eyes, brown and alive in the light, still crinkled at the corners when he smiled. His voice, low and melodious, still cracked when he spoke of sorrows. And his hands, delicate and strong, still bore soft calluses from his bow. 

The last couple of days had been so indulgently wonderful. Without the threat of war or the constant need for secrecy and vigilance, being out in the wilds once more was soothing. It was a great secret joy, of course, that you had Legolas’ undivided attention. 

He had been more loose limbed and free with touches. Hands grazing yours as you walked, his knee against yours while you sat. His eyes too, seemed to melt into an amber by the fire, a tenderness in his gaze. It felt as though the seed of friendship had slowly, slowly, started to grow into something more. 

“Shall we continue on?” He said, and inclined his head towards the distant sound of water. “We can set up camp and leave our things while we walk the forest.”

You nodded and smiled before looking away, eyes scanning the forest floor before they landed on a patch of flowers. They were strange looking, three pronged with large paper-like petals. You knelt by them, carefully cutting the blooms with your knife, and idly said, “It is beautiful here, is it not?”

He hummed in agreement. “I could envisage residing here for a time, should Faramir allow it.”

You glanced at him over your shoulder and chuckled. “You should speak to Sam. Aragorn has already consulted him on some of the gardens in the Citadel, it would not surprise me if Faramir would ask him to Emyn Arnen to design something.”

“Those flowers,” he began, stepping closer and inspecting them, “they are… strange. I do not know what they are, and perhaps it would be better to leave them be.”

“Are they poisonous?”

He leaned in and sniffed them. “No, but as I said before, this forest is unaccustomed to such things. Gifts must be freely given, and what is not must be a fair exchange.”

You dropped them into the pouch and laughed, continuing through the forest. There was a strange note in his voice, something older, wiser, than the Legolas you knew. But what harm could there be in a few cuttings? The forest was vast; a few flowers and leaves here and there would not be any loss at all. “Come now, Legolas, you speak as though —”

A stone caught your toe, your knee buckled, and you fell to the ground. Sharp pain jolted up your wrists and knees, then a hot stinging spread across your palms and shins. You blinked, eyes focusing and unfocusing on the rotting leaves in the dirt, before warm hands rested between your shoulder blades.

“Are you alright?” Legolas said, crouching and easing you back into a sitting position. You stared at him, eyes drifting from his eyes to his lips. Had he always had such beautiful lips? “Mellon nin, are you alright?”

“Yes… I —” The shock of tingling subsided from your hands and legs and only a dull throbbing remained. You looked down at your knee, the same knee that had been shot, and found your trousers ripped and the old wound reopened. It was not as bad as the initial wound, though still relatively deep, and was bleeding sluggishly through the matted dirt. “Oh, I’m… bleeding.”

His eyes darted from your knee to the divot in the ground where a leaf caught in your fall was stained with blood. His lips tightened before he let out a soft sigh. “It is as I said: a fair exchange.” An easy smile spread across his face, the hand on your shoulder loosened its grip, and his voice took on a merry lilt. “However, I do not believe we will have any more trouble on our little trip here.”

The shock of the fall had subsided and you looked at the pouch still clutched in your fist. “Well, I suppose I should make the most of it then, and collect what I can for Sam.”

He laughed, squeezing your shoulder affectionately. “Never one to pass up an opportunity. Come, let us set up camp by the river and have a look at your wound. I do not wish for the matrons at the Houses of Healing tomorrow to claim I have neglected you.”

He pulled you to your feet, and looped an arm around your waist to help you hobble along. His arm was warm, his grip firm but gentle. Pressed up against him you could smell his scent, something fresh like grass or water, unsullied even by a couple of days in the forest. The both of you found a suitable spot under shelter by the trees, and after tying the horse up, he led you to the banks. 

His nimble fingers pried apart the shredded remains of the fabric by your knee and started to wash the wound. He dressed it with some honey from his pack and untouched moss from the forest floor and some spare wrappings you had in your supplies for such an eventuality. 

While he worked, you watched his hands. Long and lithe, they were precise and delicate with their motions. If only you could reach out, and lay your hand on top of his, to sweep your thumb over the back of his knuckles. But your hands were still muddied, and the new closeness you shared with him was too new and too tenuous for something like that. 

Legolas set up camp with a practiced efficiency, and soon the both of you were sitting beside each other by the fire, eating your supplies of bread and cheese. The fire crackled and popped, and around you the forest became alive at night. Owls hooted in the trees, and critters rustled in the bushes, and then, very softly, Legolas began to sing. 

The words were lost on you, but the melody was enough. The notes drifted in the air, curling around you, seeping into your skin. It sounded slow and adoring, leisurely and lazy, and the sensation of lying on sun-warmed grass, your lover’s touch skirting up your arm, filled your body. You leaned back on your arms, sinking into his voice, letting it carry and caress you. 

When the last few words rang in the air, you opened your eyes. Legolas was looking at you with a fond expression, eyes half-lidded and lips in a soft smile. 

“That song,” you whispered, “what is it about?”

His smile widened and he said, “I’ll tell you another time perhaps.”

-

Legolas stood on one of the parapets that overlooked the entrance to the Houses of Healing. Your wound was not healing as well as it should, most likely because of how bad the initial arrow wound was, and you were getting it redressed by the matrons. He sighed and let his eyes wander from the stone flagstones, to the rooftops, to the plains. In truth, the sight of your flesh, angry and inflamed, shook something in him. Even something as minor as your wound, was enough of a risk for infection, for fever. 

Humans were so fragile, so… final. 

He blinked at the thought. Yes, of course, how could he forget? Humans were mortal. Boromir was, Aragorn was. Even the merry little hobbits and Gimli were. How strange to think that such a thing slipped his mind when it came to you, but it was far too easy really. 

There was a vitality that seemed to pour from your being, an almost stubborn resilience, especially in the grim shadow of misfortune. It was the way you would play with the hobbits, even after a long day of walking, or grit your teeth and carry on, even harrowing experience after harrowing experience. When you smiled, the day was better, brighter, and he always found himself trying to get another laugh from you. 

And yet… such a light could be so easily snuffed out. 

He shifted on his feet and watched as you limped from the Houses of Healing. He had intended to go with you, but Sam had wanted to discuss garden plans, and Boromir had gone with you instead. He was about to raise his arm and call out to you, when a figure emerged from behind the line of trees. Boromir walked towards you with outstretched arms and pulled you into his side and helped you along, vanishing from his sight beyond the trees.

Ever since the end of the war, it had felt as though things were shifting between him and you. It was only small, nearly imperceptible changes — softer smiles, more frequent dinners alone, hands that reached and fingers that brushed. And yet… Why did it feel as though you were on the other side of something he could not cross? 

He thought of the cry of the gulls, the perpetual tugging at his heart for the sea. Oh, how he wished he had never heard them. Was this how Arwen felt all the time? Longing, aching. She was happy with Aragron, he knew, but sometimes he would catch her gazing out of a window, eyes forlorn and smile sad. Aragorn knew, understood even, and in those moments he left her to her quiet longing, never hurt or bothered, and welcomed her into his arms when she went back to him. 

But would you understand? Could you accept that there would always be one part of him that belonged to the sea, to the distant shore he would never reach? Or would it be a burden to ask such a thing of you? Maybe you would be better off with someone… mortal. He sighed and wandered back towards the Citadel proper. 

“Boromir, this is unnecessary. Put me down!” Your laughter rang out and you and Boromir emerged onto the courtyard. You were in his arms, limbs flailing as he wrangled to keep you held properly. “Boromir, I — oh, Legolas.”

“Ah, Legolas,” Boromir said as he gently replaced you back on the ground. “I return them to your care.”

He forced a smile onto his face. “How is your leg?”

“Mild infection but nothing to worry about,” you said, hobbling over to him. 

He instinctively reached out and wrapped an arm around your waist. You were warm underneath his hand, warmer than usual, and you smelled strongly of herbal poultice. He could detect traces of burdock and comfrey, and underneath it all, the smell of you. He took a greedy breath, filling his lungs with proof of your life. “You should be resting. Let us go back inside.”

“I’ve been inside the past week. I’m bored to death,” you grumbled. “Let’s sit outside for a while.”

He helped you to one of the stone benches and you collapsed onto it, hissing in pain. You gingerly stretched your leg out and sighed as you settled. He sat next to you, his eyes lingering on your knee. 

“Oh, stop fussing. It’s quite minor, really.”

“I have seen men succumb to infection from unassuming cuts. I do not think I will rest easy until you are fully healed.”

He followed the line of your leg up to your waist, then shoulders, and along your jaw and lips, up to your nose and eyes. Such beauty, destined to fade, to vanish from the world forever. How could he bear it? How could anyone?

“What is on your mind, my friend?” You asked.

“I was just thinking about the fading nature of men. I do not know how your kind bear it.”

“Death?” You chuckled. “But elves can die too, can they not?”

“Yes, but… it is not in our nature. In peace times, it is very rare for our kind to die. For men… even now, where there is no suffering any longer, you still experience the sting of mortality.” His chest constricted. “How can one stand to behold love and light, knowing it will vanish?”

“It is because they do not last, that we relish in them.”

“Even if it will bring you pain later?”

You smiled, gentle and indulgent, and placed your hand on top of his. His shoulders relaxed at your touch, the tension seeping out of his muscles. He wanted to capture the moment, to bottle it somehow, keep the image of you with the sun on your eyelashes and the feeling of the softness of your skin forever preserved. 

“Yes,” you whispered, “even then.”

Something shifted in his heart, just slightly, and a smile crept onto his face. Yes, he thought, especially then. 

-

“Sam,” you said, surveying the small garden. He had done a good job with it — the shrubs were well trimmed and flowers burst in orange and yellow all around. “Are you certain it will look good?”

He nodded and grinned. “It’ll look real pretty with some candles about. I still remember what it looked like in Lothlorien. We don’t ‘ave the sort of fancy holders and the like, but I’ll do my best.”

You smiled and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t know how to thank you for this. I would do it myself but my knee…”

“No thankin’ needed. If anything, I should be thanking you. You brinin’ me those plants and flowers, even when the forest didn’t like you doin’ so.” His eyes fell to your knee. “I’m real sorry it caused you such trouble.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that.” You chuckled and patted him on the back. You looked around the garden again, trying to imagine the candles and cushions that Sam said he’d arrange for the night time picnic you had planned. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“I think he’ll love it. Mighty romantic, if I can say.”

You shifted on your feet, stomach suddenly lurching. “What if I’m mistaken, Sam? I’m not sure I could bear the embarrassment.”

The last week or so had been so lovely it had felt like a dream. Nearly every night, Legolas had invited you to sit with him at the top of some tower or parapet. He would point and tell you stories of the stars and of the elves that had come before. There were so many instances where he would lean in close, eyes half-lidded, and talk in a low, murmured tone. You would watch his lips, and watch as he watched yours. But then he would draw back and glance away. 

“The elves are funny folk,” he said with a sigh. “I couldn’t tell you what might be goin’ on in Legolas’ mind, but I doubt he would be spendin’ so much time with you if he didn’t have some… reason to do so. If you catch my meaning.”

“I hope so, Sam. Well, I’ll leave you to it. I need to go to the kitchens to see what cheese and fruit they might be able to spare me.”

He gave you an encouraging smile and with a little wave, you set off downstairs. 

The sun was just setting when Sam called you back to the garden to assess what he had prepared. Candles were dotted all around the courtyard, separated on candelabras and clustered in small groups around the picnic blanket. Plush cushions were laid out and there were little white flowers scattered on the soft wool, perfuming the air with the faint smell of jasmine. 

“Sam,” you gasped. “This is — I cannot —”

“I’ll be takin’ your speechlessness as a compliment?” He smiled shyly and ducked his head. He reached for the picnic basket in your hand and placed it on the blanket. “There, now it’s complete.”

“I’ll repay you for this Sam, I promise.”

He blushed. “Like I said before, there’s no need. Anyway, I best be hurryin’ along. Wouldn’t want Legolas to stumble upon me here and get any wrong ideas.”

You laughed and he vanished back inside. You limped over to the blanket, wincing a little as you lowered yourself, and tried to slow your breathing. Legolas would come, wouldn’t he? What if he took one look at the scene and fled? You shook your head. No, he wouldn’t do that. If you were truly mistaken about his feelings towards you, he would tell you gently and bear you no ill will.

“Mellon nin,” Legolas said from behind you and you turned, heart thumping in your chest. His eyes were wide and a slow smile was spreading across his face. “I received your message. Why have you asked me here?”

You swallowed. Did he not know? “Is it… is it not obvious?”

“I have an inkling, perhaps.” He wandered over, his steps lazy and relaxed, and sank onto the cushions. The tightness in your chest eased a fraction. “But I do not wish to presume what may or may not be in your heart. Will you not give me the truth?”

“Legolas, I…” You cleared your throat. By the Valar, why was it so difficult to speak? He arched an eyebrow at you and you glanced away, speaking more to the picnic basket than to him. “I… care for you. A great deal.”

He took your hand, and you dared to lift your gaze. He beamed at you, and then a flash of mischief entered his eyes. “As a friend?”

You scowled at him. “Do you often plan candlelit picnics for your friends, Legolas?”

He laughed and pressed his lips to the back of your hand. They were soft and warm, his breath hot on your skin. “I am teasing, meleth nin.”

Heat crept up your neck and you tried to withdraw your hand. He held fast and planted a line of kisses up, up, up, from your wrist to your elbow to your shoulder. His eyes were almost sparking in the dim, the dots of candlelight flickering in his dark irises. He kissed your jaw and your nose and your temple before dipping his head to capture your lips.

He kissed slow and languid, as though savouring the feeling of you against him. He tasted tart and sweet, no doubt from the berry and honey biscuits you knew he liked to snack on. The strange tension in your stomach snapped and vanished, and you melted under his touch. His growing smile made you giggle and your teeth knocked against his, making him laugh. 

“I am curious about what you have in that picnic basket of yours,” he murmured. “There will be time for such enjoyment later.”

A flush coloured your cheeks. “I suppose it would be a waste if we simply ignored all the food I prepared.”

“Though, before we continue, I must ask you a question first,” he said, growing grave and serious. His eyes drifted down to your joined hands, and he brushed his thumb over your knuckles. “Could you bear being with me, living with me, when part of my heart is forever owned by the sea?”

You reached up and brushed a stray strand of hair behind his ear. “My love, could you bear to be with me? If you stay, you will fade.”

“It would be a worse fate to live eternity without you,” he whispered. “That I could not bear.”

“Legolas…” It seemed all the more tragic that he, of all people, should die. He was light and joy and the thought of him growing cold and dim wrenched at your heart. “You deserve to… I cannot…”

“I have made my choice, meleth nin. Let us be happy together.” He cupped your cheek, a smile spreading across his face. His eyes were soft, but certain, his touch gentle but sure. He kissed the tip of your nose, chuckling, before he slanted his lips against yours. The kiss was chaste and quick, and all the more sweeter for its casualness. 

“For however long we have,” he murmured, “let us be happy.”

“Alright,” you said. You rested your forehead against his, inhaling his scent, breathing his breath. Yours, for now, for ever. “For however long we have.”

---

ok but what is it about the immortality of elves that has me appreciating/relishing/romanticising our mortal lives. i swear this is the second time ive done this with legolas.

Taglist: @sotwk

[lateatnewyork]

Can you do an angst prop with #8 and #10 with Azriel, I don’t know maybe Azriel spending all his time with Elain because of the three sisters and three brothers thing,but he doesn’t love her, he loves reader but is sure of the 3x3 thingy, leaving you relationship of 300 years in shambles because the bond hasn’t snapped for him yet, but it has for reader, so when she goes to end the relationship it snaps for him, making him panic when she says #10. Make him grovel a lot but please do a happy ending 🥹 I love angst with HEA.

Tolerate It

Azriel x reader, Lucien x sister!reader, Helion x daughter!reader

Warnings: angst with happy ending, subtle mentions of cheating, swearing, Elain slander, ooc elain

Prompts: “You can’t even see how much you hurt me.” , “Our forever seems to have been short-lived” & “This isn’t just a(n) [object], it’s a promise.”

Summary: Azriel believes that Elain is his mate, he distances himself from you till you decide to leave him and the bond finally snaps for him.

a/n: heavily based on tolerate it by taylor swift. guys i love Elain but i had to add elain slander to it. if you see any mistakes no you don’t 🤩

I had noticed it, the days when he started coming home late or smelt like jasmine instead of his usual cedar.

But still every single night I waited by the door like a kid, cooked his favourite meals for him. Just for him to say “I ate at Elain’s”.

I can’t even remember the last time he kissed me or told me he loved me. I had found solace in my brother, Lucien, both our mates in love with each other. Not that Azriel knew he was my mate.

It all finally snapped when I heard Azriel talking to Rhysand and I make out the words “Y/N must be lying she can’t be my mate, Elain must be my mate it should be three sisters three brothers.” I don’t wait to hear Rhysand’s response.

Bolting out of the River House sobs wrack my body. I go to Lucien and when he opens the door I collapse in his arms unable to hold it in me anymore. “He said he thinks I’m lying” I mumble out. A fresh wave of tears flowing. “300 years, 300 fucking years” I freely sob this time. “I loved him for 300 years and he says that I’m not his mate”.

“Your love should be celebrated” he assures me.

“My beautiful sister how would you feel if we visit papa?” his voice is a soothing melody. I sniffle and nod “I need to get my stuff from the apartment though, can you come with me?” I mutter. He nods in understanding and rubs my back.

When we reach the shared apartment, there’s a small dim light as I open the door, I see Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel sitting, now all staring at me. “Love, where have you been?” he says going to touch me. I pull away and look to the floor and say “Don’t call me that”.

I head into our bedroom and gather my stuff, walking out I see Lucien waiting at the door for me and Rhysand and Cassian standing next to Azriel. “Rhysand thank you for your hospitality for the past years, but I think it’s time I visit my father,” I say kindly. “What so you’re just leaving us?” Azriel finally speaks up.

“There is no us Azriel” I glare. “You think I’m dumb, you think I don’t know what you think and that you would rather Elain be your mate, you think I don’t know how you smelt like her every time you walked through that door or the fact you haven’t kissed me, touched me or even said I love you to me for past 3 months,” I finally burst, months of pent up anger, frustration, betrayal and what more poured into that.

His brows furrow in confusion. “You can’t even see how much you hurt me,” I scoff lightly. Then I see something switch in his eyes but he masks it as quickly as it was shown.

I say goodbyes to Cassian and Rhysand wishing them and their mates well. Finally I turn around to Azriel and say “Our forever seems to have been short-lived”. With that I walk out the door with Lucien by my side.

Azriel’s POV

I felt the bond snap the second she said her last sentence and left. How could I have been so stupid. I collapsed onto the floor as my brothers came up beside me. “I felt it” I whisper, “The bond”.

The next few days have been living hell I cut off all ties with Elain and went to visit Feyre, she always had the best advice. “Hi Feyre,” I mutter out. “Oh are you here for the portraits Y/N drew of you? She used her best colours for it, they’re really beautiful” More guilt washed through me at those words.

Your POV

2 months later

I have never been happier, yes I still think about Azriel from time to time but my father is rather excellent at taking my mind of that. Though lately it’s been harder as flowers, chocolates and letters of his apology have piled up. But I didn’t care he made his choice.

I head to my father’s court where he had told me to meet as I walk in I hear my father say “Rhysand we might be allies but I will cut off all ties if your spymaster harasses my daughter one more time,”.

Rhysand argues back “But Helion they are mates,”.

“I didn’t see you guys go through all this trouble to get your sister in law to talk to my brother” I say as my gaze narrows in on Elain. “Feyre, Nesta it’s good to see you again, Cass” I nod towards them. “Rhysand what a pleasure, can’t say the same about the other two,”.

Nests snorts out loud, I send an amused smile down her way. “You guys can’t just let her talk to me like that” Elain whined, she fucking had the audacity to whine. “My daughter will speak to you however she wishes,” My dad almost never took on a commanding tone but when he did you best believe everyone shut up. Elain didn’t seem to get the hint and kept whining “Azriel do something,”.

He rolled his eyes, “Elain I don’t like you, I never have how many times do I have to say Rhysand forced me to help you,” I smile a little at that.

My eyes widen as I feel a faint tug from the bond. I couldn’t be. Eyes straying from my father to Azriel, I almost choked on my spit when I saw him smiling.

Gods I missed his smile.

Clearing my throat, “Dad I think it’s ok for me to talk to Azriel, we’ll be in the ballroom.” I say walking praying to the gods that he would follow me.

I let out a breathe of relief when I heard the scrape of a chair. Walking into the ballroom, I turn to him and say “Well don’t be expected to be forgiven so easily, you’ll be expected to apologise”.

I grinned when I heard his response, “Yes Ma’am”.

He reached behind his back and pulled out a glass golden rose the ones I had gotten a plethora of real ones over the last two months.

“What’s this?” I gasp, “It’s a glas golden rose you’re favourite, you can keep it forever, it won’t die just like our love”

“I want you to know that this isn’t just a rose, it’s a promise” he muttered out. I held the rose smiling to myself. “Thank you, it’s beautiful, now explain” I say my gaze hardening.

He took a deep breath and started, “Rhysand had asked me to take care of Elain and it was wrong of me to even assume that you were lying and Elain was my mate, and she had been spraying her perfume onto me every time I left, probably to make you jealous, I’m really sorry my love, but I felt the bond”.

“So you only love me because there’s a bond between us now” I state more than question. “Gods no, I love you more than myself, I love you to the moon and to saturn, I would get down on my knees for you,” he says and I’m shocked to see him actually fall to his knees. “Please take me back love, I miss you so much and so do my shadows,”.

I guide him up and lean to his lips on my tippy toes and kiss him, “Dance with me, princess?”.

“But there’s no music” I giggle as he presses ticklish kisses to my neck. “We don’t need it,” he replies back.

He dips me and I yelp shortly cut off by a kiss, as he pulls away and places us upright again he mutters against my lips “We can do anything in this world as long as we have each other”.

[inkonparchment]

Melody

Leon Kennedy x f!Reader

Cold case after cold case is enough to damper Detective Leon's motivation. So he finds himself attached to the bar, rolling cigar in one hand and swirling whiskey in the other, entranced by the allure of the singer's cherry red lips.

warnings: noir-au. alcoholic Leon. self-destructive Leon. manipulative reader. femme fatale. reader is given some physical descriptions. suggestive themes. lack of dialogue.

word count: 2.4k

a/n: sorry guys, please have this. apparently i like putting Leon in obscure aus.

The throb in Leon’s head intensifies, fuelled on by the strong inhaled puffs of his cigar and the sour taste of his whiskey. A good thing probably, the memories of his failures ebbing away. The smoke is bitter, acrid, burning the softness of his tongue, the lingering sweet aftertaste quickly drowned out by the bitterness of his whiskey.  

But the scent of rain still remains, stuck to his clothing. Its always raining in the city, the thick band of grey clouds looming over ominously, rain coming down in a steady drizzle. He reckons his fedora has never fully dried, essential in keeping the rainwater from reaching his face. It hides his face well from the families of the victims too, eyes never fully reaching theirs whenever he shakes his head in remorse, sweaty palms shoved deep into the pockets of his coat.  

Another puff of the cigar, the earthy sweetness infiltrating his nostrils and yet the metallic smell envelops him, a cocoon formed and growing over the visits of crime scenes. Yellow tape warding off the area, the sharp sound of the camera flash littering the air, emitting smoke. He would stand unmoving, eyes stuck to the misshapen corpse, the pool of blood sticking to the underside of his shoes, layering and mixing with the others . Leon doesn’t bother cleaning his shoes anymore, carrying a piece of failure with him. What’s the point? Another will join to soil his shoes anyway. 

Leon tips his head back, hair falling away from his face, blowing the smoke into the air above him. He watches it dance around, twirling and swirling, thinning out in wisps. The board of strings and photographs in his office haunts his visions, smiling photos of unsuspecting victims, mug shots of mafia bosses and criminals, torn out pages of notepad, and the inconspicuous shadings of the map of the city. He could probably draw it out from memory alone, having spent months inspecting it.  

It was pointless, all of his search and research. He would come away with nothing, every lead turning cold, slammed with dead ends at every corner. The four walls of his office had become unbearable, slowly poisoning his mind with shuddered whispers of incomprehensible words.  

And so he returns like a predictable machine to his vice. The booze and the cigar are just perks but they’re not why he comes to this establishment time and again. Its something else, someone else entirely.  

Leon’s head is a symphony of catastrophe, thoughts swimming together in a haze, the glass getting automatic refills without even having to ask. He imagines himself sitting on the stool at the bar in an upright posture, hair slicked into finger curls with precision , the black pinstripe suit without a single flaw, commanding an air of respect around him. 

At least this is what he looks like in his mind. He doesn’t think of himself slouching, head lolling about, eyelids droopy as he sloppily puts away glass after glass, the ash of his cigar dusting over his suit, hair falling loose from their usual state. It doesn’t bother him, reality is of no consequence to him. It is irrelevant, plain and boring.  

The lights begin to dim, sending chills up his spine, slowly turning in his seat to face the stage at the fat end of the room, past all the cedar wood tables, past the heads of the other patrons in their suits and dresses, their gems glittering in the new lighting. He recognizes some of them; criminals and mobsters alike in the audience, their pudgy fingers sporting their own cigars, fingers bulging against the bands of their rings. Wisps of smoke from their cigarettes adds to the haze, floating into a fog in front of the unmoving red curtain.  

Leon sits still with bated breath. The bulbs at the edge of the stage begin to glow, the silver microphone glowing underneath the spotlight. He awakens a bit, pulled out from his subdued mind, blue irises wide against the red of his sclera.  

The curtains begin to move, bundling together and moving upwards slowly. Leon squints against the blinding white light emitting from behind, a sudden flutter of his heart as a figure stands in front of it, a long shadow falling on him. His eyes hungrily rake over the figure, brain humming awake as recognition clicks, eyes satiated as they trace every dip and every curve pronounced by the deep maroon of your glittering dress.  

He is mesmerised as you walk forward into the spotlight with calculated steps, hips swaying, heels clicking and your gloved hand reaching out to the microphone. Leon swallows his spit when you come under the warm light, perfectly curled hair cascading down your back, sultry eyes taking in the crowd that’s stuck to your form, not daring to make a sound until you do. Your pearls catch the lights, sparkling underneath it, accentuating the dip of your neckline undoubtedly the centre of attention of the men at present. 

But not Leon, no. 

He runs his tongue across his lips, wetting them with the taste of whiskey, cooling the burn of his cigar as he fixates on the curl of your plush lips. They look pillowy from afar, soft and sweet, dipped in a cherry red so bright making him wonder if they’re sweet or sinfully dipped in poison, beckoning him in like the red apple in the witch’s hand. 

The band stands to attention, waiting as you wrap your fingers around the stand, the microphone picking up the slight exhalation of air from your lips, the sound dipped in seduction, alerting even those who were unaware to your presence. And then, you sing. 

Leon feels yanked from his chair, your sweet notes washing over him, floating him up in the air, tingling every inch of his skin. He hauntingly watches your lips, trapped in their allure feeling himself lured towards you. And like a sailor, he heeds to the melody of his siren. Yes, he will come. Of course, he will. He will dive headfirst into the icy waters, way from the safety of his ship, tear his skin against the jagged rocks, turn the oceans red if it means resting in your embrace. 

His eyelashes flutter, dumbfounded at the way you caress the microphone, mind wandering as he imagines himself on his knees for you. He would never stand, no. On his knees always for you. He imagines what it would feel like to have your bare fingers rake through his hair, carding through his golden strands, nails scraping his scalp, and shudders, drunk and fevered at the thought of your touch.  

He doesn’t look away when your eyes find him across the room, fire burning in him as your smouldering gaze takes him in, drinking your appearance. The whiskey tastes sweet now, achingly so. He falls deaf to every sound around him, blind to every sight around him; all he sees and hears is you. It fills him up, intoxicating him as he feels the burden loosening from his shoulders, dust riding up around his ankles as the weights fall off.  

Leon eyelids flutter, overcome with slumber, fighting to stay awake to see you, to hold you in reverie. But he is too late, too heavy in his indulgence of his other vices that when he finally peels his eyes open, the stage is empty, curtains falling back in its place, the lights glowing back in the original form. He clenches his jaw, turning away and facing the bar. His glass is full again. He drinks it all. 

He massages his forehead with his thumb, careful not to burn himself when a sudden tantalizing blend of honeyed treats mingling with the zest of freshly ground spices floods his nostrils. Leon turns to his side and nearly falls out of chair.  

It’s you.  

You sit nonchalantly, posture upright, heels tucked away neatly underneath you and hands folded on the bar. All of your hair is swept on the shoulder away from his, locks framing the fullness of your chest crowned by the glittering pearls. Your hands are bare, instead a fur shawl wrapped around your elbows. Your lips tug up in a secretive smile, looking at him from the corner of your eye.  

You don’t speak. He simply stares. 

You trace patterns onto the cool surface of the wood, bottom lip jutting out in a slight pout. “I thought you had forgotten about me.” You angle yourself towards him, holding your chin the palm of your hand, mock disappointment apparent in your words. “I thought I had left quite the impression on you, detective.” 

Leon feels himself at a loss of words, mind slow to provide him with words, making him flounder, opening and shutting his mouth with no words. It makes you giggle, turning away from him. “I...I could never forget about you.” 

You scoff at that, bringing your shawl closer. “I didn’t know you were such an expert liar, detective.”  

He tightens his hold on the glass, tapping away the ash of his cigar. “Leon, sweetheart. I told you before.” 

You hum, leaning in closer to him, relishing in the way he sucks in a sharp breath. You don’t invade his personal space but linger just enough to overwhelm his every sense with you. You don’t miss the way he stares at your lips, gaze fluttering down to your breasts before they come back up. You take pity on him, the dark circles, the five o’clock shadow, the dilated red vessels in his eyes. 

So, you reward him with a gift.  

“Leon,” You whisper for him only, voice dipped in sultriness, every syllable of his name coated in temptation and desire. His reaction is physical; adjusting himself on the chair, leaning in towards your lips, his tongue wetting his own desperately for a taste. And you pull away at the last second, looking unamused and bored. 

A chilled glass appears in front of you, filled with a bright red liquid with a cherry decorating its rim. You sip it, ignoring the upturned gaze of Leon tracing your features. All he can do is watch when you put the glass back, biting the inside of his cheek when he notices the imprint of your lipstick on the rim.  

You pluck the cherry in your fingers, pinching the stem before resting it against your lips. Leon follows your every move, adjusting to turn to him, your knees grazing against his. You part your lips, tongue moving around the cherry before pulling it inside your mouth whole. The sweetness bursts, coating your mouth as you chew and you keen in the pleasure, watching Leon’s Adams apple bob up and down his throat.  

Leon feels his heart hammer in his chest, pupils blown out and covering the blues of his irises as he watches you dip your fingers against your lips, hollowing your cheeks out and then pulling away to show the stem knotted in perfection. You discard it and shoot him an innocent smile. 

“How goes work, Leon?” 

He shivers, averting his gaze for a moment to compose himself but nothing is working in his head. “Piss poor. Every case is a dead end. There're no leads, nothing to tie the victims to the crimes or to the criminals.” He shakes his head. “I feel like a joke.” 

“You’re not a joke,” You are quick to reassure him, “You’re a man, with limits. Don’t be so harsh on yourself.” 

Leon laps it up, desperate for comfort. “Maybe so.” 

“Besides,” You bite your lips, “This means you can come around more. I did miss you. A lot.” 

He whips his head up, blinking slowly at you, voice suddenly thick and heavy. “I would only stay here if I could.” 

The smile you grace him with nearly shatters his heart, so sweet and genuine, the twinkle in your eyes not gone amiss. “That’s so sweet of you.” Disappointment paints his features when you slide out from your chair, coming to stand close to him, fingertips ghosting over his cheeks, “I will see you tomorrow then Leon. Don’t be late, don’t break my heart.” 

Never, he would never. But he doesn’t get a chance to say it, to reassure you with his broken promises because you’re walking away already, taking the scent of honeyed spices with you. All that’s left of your presence is the knotted cherry stem sitting next to the glass with your lipstick mark.  

It's still raining when you step out on the pavement, coat now hanging by your shoulders, thanking the doorman who lets you out. You stand there patiently, the heels digging into your ankles, ache blossoming in your toes. You smell of whiskey and cigar holding the fur shawl close to your nose as you breathe it in deeply. 

The sound of halting tyres against the wet road breaks you out of your reverie, the soft material slipping from your fingers. You wait as the driver hops out of the Cadillac limousine, tipping his hat to you as his white gloved hand holds open the door to you. You climb in wordlessly, settling against the cool of the leather, the sharp smell of cologne overwhelming.  

You sit in silence, hands folded in your lap, focusing out the window as the driver returns to his seat, ignoring the man sitting beside you. The car lurches forward, rain pelting the window, sliding down in streaks as you pass by the lit buildings of the city. 

“Well?” The man’s gravelly voice breaks the tension. 

You turn to him, his gaze coolly locked on yours. The silver of his suit glows under the streetlamps, scarf around his neck as you see your reflection in his sunglasses despite the gloomy night. A ring lies snug on his pinky finger, silver with the family crest and a 'W' branded on its surface.

You sigh, “All his cases are cold. He suspects nothing.” 

He hums, looking forward. “Good work. Keep an eye on him. And report to me if you find something.” 

“Yes,” You twist away, shoulders slouched as you turn back to the window, the smell of whisky and cigar haunting you, the gloom of your voice reflecting in the state of the city, “Don’t worry about it.” 

im done. i will behave now, i promise.

[pearlwithgirl]

Wordless Conversations

John Price x gn!reader

Fluffy fluff - 1200 words

(a subtle hint of smut, but in the way that a La Croix seems like it has been flavoured by sitting in the same room as a strawberry)

~

A syrupy sweet drabble about words spoken without the need for speech.

It’s hard not to stare. The late summer glow slides across the expanse of your property, and John is leaned up against a quaintly crooked fence post, knitting his brow in mild exertion. Cushioned muscle draws your eye as he lifts his shirt to wipe the soil and dew off his face. He always loves a sun shower, gentle sheets of rain dyed golden by a low-hanging sun.

He’s harvested the last of the herbs and vegetables for tonight’s dinner - leeks, potatoes, sweetcorn, and dill. They’ll meld together so nicely, mellow and hearty as the whitefish flakes apart on your tongue. He’ll melt into his chair after polishing off the soup (an old family recipe) and give you a warm look, eyes crinkling, hand on his belly. The expression will say “This is just what I needed. This - and you.”

You’re busy getting a head start on dessert, fragrant steam from bubbling berries curling through the air in a saccharine wisp. Sweetened red currants, loganberries, and crab apples stew before you as John pops a cherry tomato into his mouth. The fruit will pair well with chilled cream and buttery shortcake - dessert with a nightcap before you meet in the shower and tumble into bed together. 

John’s face smooths out and he smiles as he watches Laska dart over patches of clover and between berry bushes - she’s always chasing butterflies. He snacks on a few pilfered strawberries as he reclines against the cedar planks, crossing his legs in front of him. Your pup playfully bows before she leaps into the air once again, arcing gracefully before barrelling into John’s side. He ruffles her fur as she wiggles in his lap and his laugh rings out above the tinny sound of the heirloom radio. 

You remember this song. So does he. The melody wafts through the window and he turns to face you, illuminated by tinted shafts of sunlight and whirling fractals cast out by the stained glass rim above your swimming head. Those strong brows quirk up and you know he’s thinking the same thing as you are.

“Remember that night in Copenhagen?” He asks you silently, grin turning sentimental and wry. 

Of course you remember. That’s where it all began - on glistening cobblestones outside of a cafe from a past life. Somehow, his eyes light up even more as your face grows dreamy, and that sarky smile goes saccharine - syrupy sweet.

You’ll never grow tired of that look. It says “You are my sunshine, my favourite thing in the world,” “You and I - it’s as easy as breathing,” “I miss you,” even though you’ve been apart for scantly more than a single chime of the clock. A lazy grin peels across your face and you catch a gentle quake in his shoulders.

He takes you in, chuckles, and brings two fingers up to tap his nose. - “You’ve got a little something right here, sweetheart.” 

Your face heats up as you wipe the smear off your face and suck the vanilla-speckled sweet cream from your thumb. You savour the little honeyed cloud, and with a tilt of your head, you beckon him toward the house.

It’s funny, isn’t it? The extensive communication that happens without a single utterance - hidden meanings and professions flowing easily over crags and cobbles that would have been hindrances for a pair less bonded. 

To others, he may come off as coarse or abrasive, while you could be glinting, sharp - but you’re nothing more than frosted sea glass to each other. Rare finds - blushing rose and stormy violet. You’ve smoothed each other’s edges, found yourselves moulded seamlessly to one another. 

Sweet words are shared in abundance, vocalized, but they’re not necessary much of the time. The two of you have learned to move in tandem, to have conversations with heated looks, gentle hands, vice versa, and everything in between.

“I need you, John,” as you walk through the door, face steeped in sorrow, little diamonds clinging to your lashes and tumbling down your cheeks.

“I’ve got you - I’ll always take care of you, sweetheart,” as he wraps you up in his arms and rocks you back and forth, rain playing a staccato lullaby while he cradles your head right next to his heartbeat.

“You’re mine,” in the midnight umbra, where heated breaths are exchanged and swallowed up greedily. 

“You fit so perfectly into my arms,” as he cages you in, bracketing you in between bulky forearms. You feel it again when he draws you in close, head tucked neatly under his chin, sleepy and satisfied.

“You are my comfort, my safety, my home,” while you blink slowly up at him, lashes fluttering around dripping adoration.

“You are the joy of my life,” as he levels you with a look of reverence and a mouth full of cake, legs touching under the table. Every hellish moment you’ve endured together holds nothing more than the weight of a papercut in comparison to the magnitude of what you feel for each other, what you've built. 

You delay the post-dinner cleanup so you can sway back and forth in the timber swing out back. With Laska tucked under one arm and you under the other, he downs the last sip of rhubarb cider, enjoying the view beside him in lieu of the remnants of rainbow and sunset. You know this expression too - better than any other. It paints a more colourful image than the one on the horizon. It holds memories, devotion, proclamations, and vows. He wore the same look on your wedding day - a strawberry-sweet smile and glassy eyes to go with the rosy pocket square from Copenhagen. 

After the dishes are done (he washes, you dry), you linger under the arch of the threshold, finger stalled over the brass switch as you look around the room. Your nostalgia-laden gaze roves from John’s grandmother’s old pie plates to the moss green tiles he installed around the picture window. Trinkets are scattered across the hearth, a lovely landscape filled with photos of found family and homemade knits and ceramics. Every bit and bauble, down to the simplest fruit-stained recipe card, has been carefully curated and cherished over years of blissful benediction. You think you’ve found heaven on Earth, and it’s not a place - it’s him.

He slings an arm around your middle and you rub a soothing thumb over his hand, leaning back into the crook of his neck. Your eyes fall shut as he presses his lips to the crown of your head. There’s a shared sentiment in your mutual touch.  

“Thank you for giving me this life.” 

You exhale in unison, shimmying around to face him, placing a palm on his cheek. His larger hand eclipses yours, and the expression on his face goes downy-soft. Right now, his baby blues hold your favourite look of all. It flickers warm and bright, comforting and exhilarating all at once, and it’s mirrored in your own half-lidded eyes. You know exactly what it means - it flavours every interaction and perfumes the room along with viridian herbiness and the sweet tang of berries. 

Three little words hang softly in the air as you flick the light off and stride down the hall hand-in-hand.

[stealeroflemons]

eah thingy #29 because my brain has been creatively dead for a while and I'm going to force myself to try before I go back in my study hole for graduation

This is mainly going to be what I think the eah characters sound like/who they sound like when they sing/voices I associate with them when I'm writing them (I know these won't perfectly match up with their VA's but let me have my fun)

Melody Piper - Phoebe Bridgers

Sparrow Hood - Tyler Joseph

Raven Queen - Chappell Roan

Meeshell Mermaid - AURORA

Briar Beauty - Julianna Joy

Faybelle Thorn - Halsey

Ashlynn Ella - Lizzy McAlpine

Hunter Huntsman - Michael Cera

Dexter Charming - Alec Benjamin

Darling Charming - Allie X

Daring Charming - Peter McPoland

Apple White - Melanie Martinez

Blondie Lockes - Britney Spears

Cerise Hood - Hayley Kiyoko

Ramona Badwolf - Bishop Briggs

Kitty Cheshire - Suki Waterhouse

Maddie Hatter - Paris Paloma

Lizzie Hearts - MARINA

Alistair Wonderland - Niall Horan

Bunny Blanc - Ethel Cain

Cedar Wood - Laufey

Chase Redford - Eric Nam

Courtly Jester - K.Flay

Holly O'Hair - Lily Kershaw

Poppy O'Hair - Orla Gartland

Ginger Breadhouse - Hailee Steinfeld

Duchess Swan - Tessa Violet

Farrah Goodfairy - Au/Ra

C.A. Cupid - Madds Buckley

Hopper Croakington II - Ricky Montgomery

Justine Dancer - Sabrina Claudio

Rosabella Beauty - Chloe Ament

[names-for-alters]

Hello one and all, alters and headmates! I am Charlie! I like to make lists! I also hoard names! Are you looking for a name? GREAT! You can send an ask and request a specific aesthetic or origin of name, or you can look at my list!

With that said…

…Cracks knuckles…

Findo Tach Tails Flicker Tracer Kat Iris Blu Brick Arlo Sammy Artie Finn Stein Aleksandr Vora Olive Luna Nyx Cyrus Qrow Orian Cello Onyx Skye Grim Opal Dawn Azure Fish Bones Poppy Bronze Eggs Sparky Specs Snickers Trout Navi Bingo Chili Bandit Stripe Busker Socks Brandy Frisky Winston Lucky Chucky Bently Judo Rusty Max Honey Indie Calypso Striker Merle Moxxie Vex Ant Bugger Bee Spider Tails Hook Indigo Amber Coco Coral Scarlet Ivory Jade Ruby Emerald Chuck Loden Copper Hamelin Neo Shepard Cinnamon Visor Macalister Soul Hack Hiccup Flynn Rider Astrid Jay Raven Robyn Bolt Dagger Viper Tracer Cornwall Flock Sapphire Crystal Ghost Mochi Trick Catra Rose Raven Flip Chani Racket Red Crimson Dragon Runt Scotch Tellie Gator Croc Crow Goat Duck Creeper Kuma Jet Jeep Draco Poppy Sombra Raine Squish Spike Blaze Ender Drake Sandy MK PJ DJ CJ MJ King Creak Shadow Clay Dusty Miles Dart Willow Antonius Husk Moth Cypher Jin Yin Yang Daisy Gray / Grey Alistair Halo Angel Cake Fennec Fox Null Lull Bastion Lucky Sun Star Cosmo Tweety Vox Nerys Sonic Bark Birch Oak Cherry Blossom Peaches Velvet Shell Coffee Valley Fang Moot Redpath Pudding X V Jr Ether Fig Trunk Joy Frogger Snowflake Snowball Snow Jumper Racket Flare Vendetta Loonie Coin Six Eleven Tropica Stelina Mojave Ink Sud Fender Zero Pollen Wysteria Page Ozias Rex Tortch Buck Nickel Stripe Lynch Tramp Wolf Pup Tank Jhariah Kharma Zenith Sparrow Prism Lemon Mune Lamb Pyke Diamond Parker Graves Fizz Nugget Melody Tink Blight Fangless Ambress Vulture Eclipse Luka Bangle Constance Constantine Sommar Babble Clank Bobble Chipper Aidan Slate Tin Twire Zephyr Silver Misty Faunus Atlas Birdie Brook Cedar Chip Coal Daisy Ember Faye Fate Fern Flint Harmony Helios Ivy Junx Kit Lyria Phoebe Piper Lady Beacon Elos Rumble Ida Cross Zed Scootie Smidge Clauger Happy Sonny Hath Soldier River Song Clawtor Videl Legen Onen Chunk Reid Pop Cobra Cash Clover Saris Volante Donna Belladonna Gale Chopper Morphias Vidia Loft Kape Levi Licker Howl Dustin Newt Creek Breezy Polaris Blight Archer Sirius Warren Dream Goon Cookie Ranger Amity Jericho Viggo Besko Asra Alice Olaf Mossfeld Issic Missy Rascal Creasy Nonya Hex Pita Miguel Manuel Rayburn Daisy Dash Lucky Becky Steele Cylo Featherstone Kingston Netherfield Reacher Saltburn Quick Rubble Dust Brimstone Humble Ado Grover Norvanos Leshy Blade Cooper Calcium

Leo

Leonardo

Lebony

Silver

Linzier

Pearl

blackberry

Tatin

Bud

Raphael

Pebble

Mina

Linda

Oolong

Daeo/Dayo/Dao

Inco

Ketlyn

Risa

Ines

Lora

Flock

Lux

Rix

Reah

Destinty

Bet

Ange

Krixa

Lalien

Gloom

Bug

Rozy

Mars

Screech

Jenny

Robert

Patrick

Pierre Rosemary

Henderson

Mayfield

Sinclair

Sullivan

Hart

Solace

Daughtler

Stoll

Gatlin

Yearwood

Amos

Graves

Rothschild

Halley

Spektor

Presley

Redd

Blackwood

Notvletti

Valerie

Milo

Marian

Lychee

Aiden

Nova

Vel

Bel

Yuri

Puro

Pluto

Ramona

Angel

Nada

Shen

Mog

Hania

Udge

Kinetic

Kikos Wathel

Dupa

Sierre

Jimor

Teddy

coc

Scara

River

Shade

Foenem

Duck

Emily

Toast

Reunna

Ichigo

Rae

Sonic

MoonL

Lennus

cabaran

Marto

Leveer

Granite

Tongle

Gavril

Luella

Malachite

Leonard

[arctrooper69]

hello i come rolling in with a fic request because i adore your style of writing, but please don’t feel pressured! i understand you probably get a lot of requests

could you do a wolffe x reader fic (probably fluff or hurt comfort) where it’s based on “annie’s song” by john denver? i have an image of them slow dancing in the rain in a meadow in my head but you don’t have to include that

thank you so much!! 💚💚

This is such a beautiful song 😍 I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to get this to you! I hope I captured the essence of the song for you!

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

Come Let Me Love You

...Let me lay down beside you. Let me always be with you. Come, let me love you. Come love me again...

Warnings: Bittersweet angst. Allusions to Order 66.

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

Closing your eyes, you could almost pretend like it wasn't real - like there wasn't a war outside.

The sunlight danced upon your skin in a sweet embrace of a comforting warmth. If you kept your eyes closed, it felt like home. The smell of lilacs drifted through the trees; the long grass tickled the bottoms of your feet. They were here - all of them. Your boys in white. The same in face but their eyes told stories of their own. Some faded, flitting about as ghosts - only here to guide brothers still standing - but all were clad in armor of their chosen colors. They seemed content. No war here, only peace. The sleepy crashing of ocean waves, wind whispering through the sky and the feather-soft song of birds floated through the air in gentle harmonies of a melody you couldn't begin to describe. Familiar - yet an ethereal mystery.

"Dance with me, Mesh'la?"

The words sounded strange coming from the mouth of a battle-worn clone. Grey armor worn by a scarred face with one eye replaced by cybernetics. Intimidating; observant; yet kind and gentle in touch. Only you could see the man beneath the solider. That side of him made itself known for you and only you. What was once a weakness he hated, now became his strength to carry on.

Commander Wolffe was never one to give in so easily. Neither were you. He couldn't wrap his head around whatever cosmic force demanded that he hold you close. The angry storm of battle that raged within him seemed to quell - commanded into a silent peace - simply by having you near.

In a dream, the simple melody seemed to swell with pearls of youthful laughter as he took your hand and spun you around. If he could drown himself in that beautiful sound, what a way to go it would be.

Drifting through the waving grass, he held on tight as if upon letting you go, he'd float somewhere far away.

In a trance, together you drifted, like time itself did not exist. Nothing existed save for the grizzled Clone Commander and the object of his desires.

A gentle hand lifted your face to meet his eyes. Rough and calloused fingertips that soothed like sand.

"I have to go, Mesh'la. Duty calls."

Your lips moved as if to whisper a soft, mournful plea, yet no words were spoken.

Please don't go. Not yet.

As if called down by the pain of parted lovers, a misty rain began to fall. The universe itself was crying, mourning the violent innocence of artificial creation. Yet the rain was not all for sorrow. It felt cool and comforting - as though to sooth your fears - like the lips that ran gently across your face, telling you that everything would be okay.

Come, let me love you.

"One more dance?" The words came softly, slipping out as little more than a whisper - but you knew the words were heard.

"One more dance, my love. One more song."

The rain continued to fall, lightly tapping the leaves, wetting the soil where flowers bloomed - one for every fallen brother.

He was all around you. Strong arms guiding you through vibrant petals of red in a field of poppies that danced in the sweetness of a summer breeze. The aroma of a musky cedar and lonely petrichor intertwined and spiraled upwards emanating from somewhere around you. His scent - the one with which you had associated him from the first time he'd spoken to you down in the gardens of the Senate building that fateful morning.

Around and around he spun you, holding you together with arms that you supposed were strong enough to hold the world - dancing in the rain to that strange enchanting melody. Everything else apathetically faded into nothing as you let him fill your senses with that pure, yet melancholic bliss.

"Won't you stay?"

Let me lay down beside you. Let me always be with you.

Never let me go.

***

The low rumble of a brewing storm woke you with a strange gentleness. You lay unmoving beneath the sheets, unfocused eyes gazing blankly through the ceiling as though trying in vain to retreat back into the Commander's longing arms. The sensation of his lips lingered on your skin as you touched your cheek, fingers brushing the ghosts of his kisses. They came away wet. Only now did you realize the falling tears were your own.

Something had happened. The world was different now. The galaxy was grieving. You could sense it in the air and smell it's metallic sorrow in the rain as it fell outside the open window. A feeling of wrongness pervaded your senses. It was mournful and empty.

Commander Wolffe wouldn't be coming back this time.

Maybe someday. Maybe not ever.

Like being led once more through an unfamiliar dance, you rose and took the dress you'd lain out the night before. It hung lightly down to the knees, adorned with red poppies.

Perfect for dancing.

Quietly you hung it back on the wall. You would wait for your soldier.

Come let me love you.

Only then would you dance again.

Come love me again.

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

@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22 @merkitty49 @viva-la-whump @thrawns-teef-weef @dumpsters-little-matchbook @nekotaetae @ladykatakuri @loverofclones @heyitsaloy @padawancat97 @jambolska-grozdova @flyingkangaroo @melymigo @rain-on-kamino @jiabae @my-own-oracle @dragonrider9905 @queenofspades6 @ordinarylokix @jupitersaturnapollo @queencousland101 @vampire-rouge @southernbaguette @staycalmandhugaclone @dalu-grantkylo @dangraccoon @aconstructofamind @blueink-bluesoul @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @atomickidsoul @caitnotfound @temmiegailg @skellymom

If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️

[inksoover-sideblog]

Twisted wonderland x Ever after high crossover

(Dorms distribution)

Heartslabyul

Lizzie Hearts

Courtly Jester

Alistair Wonderland

Bunny Blank

Kitty Cheshire

Chase Redford

Savanaclaw

Ramona Badwolf

Cerise Hood

Sparrow Hood

Hunter Huntsman

Tiny

Jillian Beanstalk

Octavinelle

Blondie Locks

C.A. Cupid

Farrah Goodfairy

Scarabia

Duchess Swan

Darling Charming

Pomefiore

Apple White

Holly and Poppy O'Hair

Justine Dancer

Ignihyde

Humphrey Dumpty

Dexter Charming

Melody Piper

Diasomnia

Faybelle Thorn

Ginger Breadhouse

Nina Thumbell

Rosabella Beaty

Ramshackle dorm

Raven Queen

Madeline Hatter

Ashlynn Ella

Briar Beaty

Cedar Wood

Hopper Croakington ||

[theostrophywife]

little wolf.

masterlist (azriel x reader x eris) author's note: apologies for the repost, but apparently the text wasn't showing up for some people in the original post. warning: smut under the cut. summary: the worst part about being a wolf was going into heat. luckily, not one, but two alphas—azriel and eris are more than willing to satisfy your insatiable needs.

By far, the worst thing about being a wolf was the heat.

Ever since you turned, you were gifted with predatory strength and lethal speed, but it came with a price. Once a month, you were forced to endure the most excruciating pain while you fought off the urge to mate. It was a terrible ordeal—your skin always felt too hot, your core too slick, and your body too racked with sexual desire to adhere to any semblance of common sense. Despite your efforts, you could only do so much with your own fingers and toys to find relief.

It probably would’ve been easier if you let an alpha mount you, but you couldn’t bring yourself to ask the two males that you would’ve trusted to take care of you. Choosing between Azriel and Eris was too daunting and you didn’t want to add another reason for them to fight. Cauldron knew that they loathed one another without you getting in between them, so you opted to endure the pain alone. 

Running through the snow capped mountains of Illyria, you savor the cold bite of the rushing wind through your thick fur as you glide up the steep slope with nothing but the howling wind as your companion. The killer instinct was ingrained into your very being, fueling you as you ran wild and free through the frozen tundra. You came to a halt before the High Lord’s secluded cabin—home for the next few days while you ride out your heat. 

Shifting back into your High Fae form, you shake the snow from your dark hair and bound up the wooden steps. The crackle of the hearth greets you as soon as you open the door, but it’s his scent that hits you full force and overwhelms your senses with night chilled mist and cedar. The aroma was impossible to ignore, awakening a desire within you that fills the entire cabin with the fragrance of your arousal. 

You freeze underneath the wooden awning as the familiar tall, muscled form of the Illyrian warrior came into view. The craving ignites in your core like a lit match, colliding with the rising panic in your chest. Azriel wasn’t supposed to be here. 

With the peak of your heat fast approaching, the presence of any male was enough to cloud your senses with lust and desire, much more an alpha like Azriel. Since your first heat, you prided yourself in your ability to control your hormones. You’ve always been a lone wolf, belonging to neither pack nor alpha, but you were powerful enough that no other werewolf attempted to make you bend to the breeding customs of your kind. 

Though you enjoyed playing by your own rules, one disadvantage of not having a pack meant that you had to take care of yourself while riddled with a nearly insatiable sex drive that you barely curbed with the techniques you’ve been taught as a young wolf. 

But all of that carefully crafted knowledge flies out the window the second that Azriel steps out of the shadows.

You’ve always been attracted to the shadowsinger. With his impressive physique and devastatingly handsome face, Azriel was easily the prettiest out of his brothers and you often wondered what he was hiding beneath those dark leathers and that aloof smile. Beyond a few flirtatious comments, you mostly kept the attraction to yourself, but there was no plausible way that you could control yourself now. 

“Little wolf,” Azriel greets, reaching for your hand as he pulls you into the living room. His voice sounds like a melody in your ears—cool, dark, and seductive much like the shadows thrumming through his lithe stature.

The scent of your arousal made him dizzy with desire, the alpha instinct kicking in almost instantaneously. It was then that you pick up on the scent of a second alpha, the strong mixture of crackling embers and pine wafting up to you as the heir of the Autumn Court smirks at you from the sofa. The fox-like grin paired with his high cheekbones, upturned nose, and heavily freckled ivory skin makes you shudder. Russett locks frame his beautiful face as he leans forward, the golden rings adorning his fingers reflecting the flames raging in the hearth behind him as he grips the velvet armrest. 

“Nice of you to finally join us, sweetheart.”

“What are you two doing here?” you ask quietly, barely restraining yourself from jumping the two males. 

“Rhys told us you were sick,” Azriel states, cradling your face in his scarred hands. “Eris and I came to take care of you.”

The sensation of his hands on either side of your face makes your core churn. Your body reacts out of its own accord, eyes fluttering close as Azriel’s delicious scent makes your skin crawl. Your body feels overheated and every sensation threatens to send you into overdrive. You inhale sharply, digging your protruding claws into the palm of your hand.

Eris groans when he scents the arousal wafting off of you in waves. “She’s not sick,” he declares in a low, husky voice. “But she does need our help.”

Azriel furrows his brow, examining your flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. “You’re not ill at all, are you angel?” 

The shadowsinger snakes his arm around your waist possessively, sweeping your dark hair behind your shoulder as he grazes his lips along the crook of your neck. Azriel inhales deeply, hazel eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head as he takes in the delicious scent of your desire. Your arousal nearly brings him to his knees.

“You’re in heat.” 

The heir to the Autumn Court rises from his seat, sidling up behind you and burying his face in your hair. “Fuck, is this the reason Rhysand grants you leave once a month?” Eris nuzzles his nose against your cheek and it’s almost too much to bear. Your claws break through skin and the red haired male draws your bleeding hand up to his mouth and sucks away the blood. 

The sight of him licking away the hot, sticky liquid from your fingers awakens pure, unadulterated lust within you. “I can taste it on you, sweetheart.” Eris lifts your wrist as your claws retract, offering your hand to Azriel. “See for yourself, shadowsinger.”

Azriel delicately places your pointer and middle finger into his mouth, tipping his head back when the sweet taste of your blood fills his mouth. His cock strains at the front of his pants, begging to be released so he can mount you. He had no idea how you had the strength to resist that innate need to breed, to have an alpha knot you so you can find relief. 

You whimper as Azriel protectively pulls you into his chest. “Have you been enduring your heat alone this whole time, little wolf?”

You nod shyly while the two males sandwich you between their solid forms. With Azriel wrapping you into a tight embrace as Eris grips your hips from behind, you felt like you were going to explode. 

The Autumn Court alpha rolls his hips into your backside, eliciting a desperate whine out of you. “Why didn’t you just ask for help?” 

“I - I didn’t want to bother either one of you.” 

Eris strokes your hair with surprising gentleness. “You could never bother us, sweetheart.” He tilts your chin up and the fire burning within his amber gaze makes you shiver. “Don’t you know we’d do anything for you?”

“But you hate each other.” 

Azriel kisses just below your jaw and you sigh, so touch starved that the small gesture was enough to send your body into overdrive. “Eris and I may have our differences, but neither one of us has ever faltered in our shared affections for you. We’re willing to put our issues aside if it means making you happy.”

Eris hums in agreement as he grazes his lips along the shell of your ear. “Would you like that, baby? Two alphas sharing you? Can you handle Azriel and I worshiping every inch of your body like you deserve?”

You shudder at the thought, already imagining two sets of hands and mouths all over you. “Yes, I want you both.”

“Then use us, angel,” Azriel murmurs, placing your arms around his neck. “We’re at your service.”

Shadows twist through your limbs, cooling your overheated skin as you surge forward and hungrily kiss Azriel. There’s instant relief once your lips meet and the shadowsinger groans with satisfaction as he cradles your face in his hands. Behind you, Eris makes quick work of your thin dress, sliding the fabric over your shoulders while he places open mouthed kisses onto your skin. 

The warmth of his mouth sends a tingle of pleasure straight to your sex and both males groan at the shift in the scent of your already overwhelming arousal. Your fingers twine through the Autumn lordling’s hair as you shift to taste him. While kissing Azriel felt like the cool and seductive night, Eris’ lips held the warmth and heat of a crackling hearth. They were opposites in every way, but both fit like puzzle pieces against you. 

“As enticing it is to take you right here, I think we’d be more comfortable upstairs.” Eris states, glancing over at Azriel. “Shall we take this to the bedroom, shadowsinger?”

The Illyrian male gives him a brief nod before shadows wreath around you. A few moments later, the three of you are tumbling into one of the empty bedchambers on the second floor. Eris holds out his hand with a wicked grin while Azriel guides you by the hips. 

The Autumn lordling gracefully slides into the large four poster bed, grinning while you watch Azriel crawl towards you with a purely predatory smirk. The two males clamber on either side of you, their mouths and hands itching to taste, touch, nip, and suck every inch of you. 

“Tell us what you want, angel.” Azriel murmurs, dragging his lips across yours as your eyes flutter close. 

“Touch me. Kiss me. Fuck me,” you say with a whine. “Do whatever you want, but please do it quickly. It hurts so badly.” 

“We know, sweetheart,” Eris says as he unties the laces from the back of your corset. “Don’t worry, Azriel and I will take good care of you. Just lie back and relax.”

Azriel hums in agreement and helps the redhaired male slide the dress off of you in one quick motion. He slips out of his dark leathers, unveiling the planes of his smooth, muscled body. Golden brown skin ripples underneath your fingertips while the shadowsinger reaches over your shoulder to undo the ties of Eris’ billowing shirt. He chuckles as your eyes widen, shrugging out of the top and making quick work of his dark trousers next. 

With the three of you naked and pressing against one another, the skin to skin sensation fills you with excruciating need. Azriel slips his tongue between your parted lips, groaning as he ruts his hips into you, pressing his notable erection against the inside of your thigh. Eris kneads the soft tissue of your ass, hiking your leg over Azriel’s hips before he pushes his cock into you slowly. 

You moan into Azriel’s mouth as Eris fills you, fingers gripping the redhaired male’s tresses behind you as he thrusts in and out of your slick pussy. Being filled alleviates the pain of your heat and even more so when Azriel’s lips circle around your nipples, devouring your sensitive peaks with devotion. The cold whisps of his shadows find your aching clit and swirls over the bundle of nerves with expert precision. 

A flash of heat snakes through your chin, turning you over to Eris. Amber eyes fixate on you, a fire burning within them as his mouth finds yours. The Autumn male tastes of cinnamon and honeyed wine, and your body coils with the signal of an oncoming orgasm as he continues to fuck the need right out of you. 

Scarred fingers replace Azriel’s inky shadows as he fervently circles your clit, bringing you to the precipice of your first orgasm of the night. 

“I just want to knot this pretty little pussy of yours, sweetheart.” Eris exhales sharply, thrusting deeper into you while his words make your thighs clench together with need.

“Do it, Eris. I’m yours to claim,” you caress his face with one hand, intertwining your other through Azriel’s fingers. “I belong to both of you. You’re my alphas.” 

“Fuck,” Eris grunts sharply as his knot locks inside of you, twining your bodies together as he continues to unravel you with his cock. 

The Autumn Lord is reeling from the sensation of filling you, satisfying the innate need to mate and breed that overcame his entire being the second he caught whiff of your scent. Even without his alpha senses, Eris had dreamed of this since the moment he met you. He just didn’t think he’d have to share with the shadowsinger. 

Still, Eris is determined to make the best of it. 

“Do you know why they say that Autumn Court males fuck like they have fire in their veins, little wolf?” Eris asks with a smirk as he holds your gaze. You shake your head as he holds your hips still, rocking ever so slowly, barely sliding his tip in while you buck to have his cock sheathed in you again. He chuckles at your eagerness. “I guess I’ll just have to show you.”

As Eris slams his hips into yours, heat spreads over your exposed skin. Fire skitters along your limbs, leaving warm kisses along your nipples and clit while pushing you over the edge. 

You whine with pleasure and the depraved sound washes over Azriel, awakening his jealous streak as he shoves his fingers through your parted lips. You gag on his digits, sucking harshly as he hisses at the feeling of your wet mouth covering his scarred skin. The shadowsinger watches as you suck on his fingers, lathering them with your spit while he pumps them in and out of your mouth. He hits the back of your throat and you let out a strangled groan that travels straight to the sensitive tip of his cock. If you felt this good on his fingers, he couldn’t even imagine the pleasure of your pretty little mouth wrapped around his cock.

“So close, Eris. Feels so fucking good. Don’t stop.” 

The Autumn heir grips your waist as he relentlessly pounds into you, snarling all the while. “Cum for your alpha, sweetheart. I want to feel that tight little cunt clench around my cock.”

With a final push, you cum with Eris stuffed inside your pussy and Azriel in your mouth, nearly crying with relief as you ride out the pleasure. The ironclad grip you have on the lordling as you come down from the high spurs him on to squirt his seed into you, filling your pussy with the hot liquid as you both climax together. The relief it brings you is fleeting and momentary before you’re aching to be stuffed once again. 

“Azriel, please,” you whine, reaching for the shadowsinger. “I want to gag on your cock.”

That’s all it takes for the Illyrian male to push your head into his lap, fisting your hair into his hands while you crawl on your hands and knees. Behind you, Eris admires his work, stuffing his cum back into your gaping hole before burying himself between your legs. His kitten licks makes you lurch forward, gripping the tops of Azriel’s thighs while you lick the bead of precum glistening on his tip. 

The spymaster’s wings loom over you, unfurling behind his strong back like a dark god as the red and gold membrane obscures the only source of light from the room. 

“Showing off now, are we shadowsinger?“ Eris asks with a smirk. 

“You’ve had your fun, lordling. Now it’s my turn to pleasure our little wolf.” 

Eris chuckles with amusement before burying his tongue in your cunt. You moan, gripping the base of Azriel’s cock while you take all of him into your mouth. The shadowsinger’s wings flare behind him in a show of dominance, giving him the appearance of some dark deity whose sole purpose was to seduce innocent, unsuspecting maidens. While you were neither one of those things, Azriel was succeeding in seducing you. 

His thumb flickers over your lips, cradling your chin in his hand while you suck and swirl him in your tongue. Tears collect at the corner of your eyes and Azriel swipes at them, chuckling softly as you gag on his length. 

“So eager to take all of me, angel. The sounds you’re making are absolutely filthy,” Azriel says with a growl as he bucks his hips into your mouth. “Little wolf is cockdrunk for her alpha, isn’t she?”

Your response is a garbled mess, echoing through the back of your throat and onto Azriel’s cock as he continues to fuck your mouth. The slickness between your thighs has you dripping all over Eris’ face, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he continues to lap you up, grazing his teeth against your clit ever so gently as your legs quiver underneath you. 

The shadowsinger gathers your hair in one hand, holding you in place while he moans your name into the night, thrusting into your mouth with fervor. Azriel spurts his hot seed into you and the salty liquid settles in the back of your throat as you eagerly lap up every drop. 

“My filthy little slut. I love watching you swallow,” Azriel groans as he pumps his length between his scarred fingers. “Now come here and let your alpha take care of you.”

You whimper as Azriel and Eris flip positions. The red haired male settles behind you, pulling you into his lap as the shadowsinger looms over you with a smirk. Azriel yanks you by the ankles, shadows twisting through your limbs as he pins you underneath him.

He strokes his thumb over your bottom lip before devouring you, his tongue pushing past the seam of your lips as he tastes the remnants of himself on you. Azriel’s fingers stroke the hollow of your throat before he tilts your head back. 

“Open up, angel.” 

You obey his command, watching as he puckers his lips. Azriel spits into your open mouth and for a second you could do nothing but stare at him in astonishment. The act was purely possessive, making you clench your thighs together as your core throbs with need. You swallow, licking your lips and staring up at the shadowsinger through your dark lashes. 

Azriel tips his head back in laughter and the sound was low, dark, and dangerous. As though you’ve passed some unspoken test. 

“You like that, don’t you? Being degraded and claimed by your alpha?” 

“Yes,” you breathe. “Gods, yes. Claim me. Mark me. Use me. I just need to feel you inside me, Az.”

The instinct to mount you becomes too strong for Azriel to fight and he parts your legs roughly, settling between your thighs as he pumps himself at your entrance. Your mouth waters at the sight of his considerable length and Eris braces you against his chest as Azriel pushes inside of you. 

Dark wings shadow over you as Azriel fills you up to the hilt. The red and golden membrane casts a faint glow behind his back as his hips meet yours. You gasp at his sheer size as your walls contract to make room for him. Your eyes flutter close, but Azriel traces the tears streaming down your cheeks and wills you to look at him. 

“Open your eyes, little wolf. I want you to watch my cock sliding in and out of you. Claiming you. Breeding you. ” Azriel’s words awaken your inner wolf. For an omega like you, the utterly possessive drives you wild. In that moment, your will bends to Azriel’s. He’d single handedly made you do what no other alpha could—submit. For Azriel, for Eris, you’d obey. 

As if sensing your thoughts, Eris sucks harshly at your flesh and spreads your legs even wider. “I believe the shadowsinger gave you a command, sweetheart.” The future High Lord turns your chin towards Azriel once more. “Watch.”

You whimper, directing your gaze at Azriel’s hard length disappearing between your folds. The sight was erotic and it only heightened the experience for everyone involved. Eris tweaks your nipples, whispering praises in your ear while he watches the shadowsinger’s cock practically impaling your petite form.

“Knot me, Azriel. Please.” The plea sounds whiny and desperate, but you didn’t care. You would’ve gotten on your knees to have this alpha claim you as his. 

Azriel swears as you claw at his back, dragging your nails down his golden brown skin. The cramps in your stomach have long subsided and you felt nothing but pleasure as the shadowsinger mounts you, thrusting at a punishing pace. His knot settles inside of you, locking the two of you in place while you groan with pleasure. It feels good, better than you could’ve ever imagined to have not one but two alphas claim you. 

Eris turns your chin and kisses you roughly as his warm fingers travel down your torso. Fire skitters over your skin and shadows meet flame as they circle your nipples and clit, overstimulating your already sensitive sex. You whine into Eris’ mouth, fisting his russet hair in your hands while you bite down on his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. 

“Such a needy little pup,” Eris states in amusement. “Do you need your mouth stuffed too, pretty pet?”

You nod your head in response and Azriel gives you a devilish grin before flipping you over. Perched on your elbows and knees, he grips your waist and sheathes himself in your wetness again, nearly cumming from the way your pussy hugged his cock. The shadowsinger fucks into you from behind while you kneel before Eris.

The Autumn Court heir prods his tip between your silky lips and you oblige without protest, taking all of him in the back of your throat as Azriel continues to pound into you. You moan around Eris’ length and the vibration makes the future High Lord buck against your mouth. 

“That’s right, sweetheart. Take all of me,” Eris pumps into your mouth, triggering your gag reflex as you slobber all over him. He chuckles as your spit coats his length. “You’re an absolute mess, so eager to gag on my cock. You just love getting throat fucked by your alpha, don’t you?” 

You hum in approval just as Azriel fists your hair in his hands before slamming into you over and over again, making you arch your back as you cry out in pleasure. Eris shakes underneath you and you could tell that he was on the verge of cumming by the way he’s moaning your name. 

You pump his length into your mouth from base to shaft and it sends him over the edge as he spurts hot liquid into the back of your throat. You lick your lips, swallowing every drop as Eris proudly kisses your temple. 

He swipes at the corner of your mouth, licking the residue from his fingers while he grins. “Good girl.”

Not to be outdone, Azriel growls and yanks you to face him. The shadowsinger pins you underneath his slick body and hikes your leg over his shoulder, allowing him to angle himself deeper. You sink your teeth into his neck and he growls in response. 

“Gods, Az. Right there. Don’t stop. Fuck—“ You’re cut off as Azriel kisses you, tongue and teeth clashing as he coaxes you through your orgasm. 

The temper of the future High Lord gets the best of him as he elbows Azriel. The shadowsinger grunts and flashes Eris a look that holds nothing but lethal promise. 

“What the hell are you doing?” 

Eris merely shrugs, his amber gaze settling on you as a grin tugs at his lips. “I have a proposal.” 

Azriel frowns, barely restraining himself from choking the life out of the arrogant male for interrupting your release. “This better be good.”

“Oh, it is,” Eris states while cupping your ass. He kneads the soft skin while trailing a path to your puckering hole, teasing a finger along the tight entrance as you bite your lip in response. “Since we’re already sharing, how do you feel about utilizing your other entrance?”

Your face heats as Eris chuckles. “Greedy little pet. You just want us stuffing both of your holes, don’t you? You won’t be satisfied until cum is leaking out of your pretty little cunt and tight ass.” 

“Yes, gods yes. I want that.”

Azriel is intrigued now. He may loathe the male beside him with every fiber of his being, but he could’ve kissed him for suggesting the idea. The shadowsinger could tell how much it turned you on and that wasn’t the only thing he noticed from your erratic breathing and heavy lidded stare. Your gaze kept shifting to the small space separating him and Eris as if you were imagining one of them closing the distance. 

The shadowsinger strokes your cheek. “That’s not the only thing you want, is it angel?” A shadow curls through your wrists as Azriel flashes his teeth at you. “Eris is right to call you greedy. I can practically read the filthy thoughts running through that beautiful mind of yours by the way you keep looking at us.”

Eris cocks his head, his interest peaking as you swallow thickly. Azriel’s smile is purely predatory. “It’s not enough for us to pleasure you. You want us pleasuring each other, too.” 

The images that Azriel’s words conjure make you clench around his cock. The shadowsinger’s eyes widen before he throws his head back in amused laughter. “Looks like I have my answer.” His golden eyes land on the male next to him and the simmering desire within Azriel’s gaze makes you shiver in anticipation. “What do you say, lordling? Should we give her what she wants?” 

“I’m game if you are, shadowsinger.” 

And gods, gods you’re convinced that you’ve died and gone to heaven as Azriel smirks and pulls out of you. You can’t even bring yourself to whine in response to his absence because the sight unfolding before your eyes was too erotic to comperehend. 

With a teasing grin, Azriel closes the gap between them. You watch with bated breath as the two males kiss, feeling the slickness between your legs gushing onto the sheets as you reach for your alphas. Fire and shadow twine through your limbs, keeping you in place. 

“You wanted this, angel.” Azriel states as his lips ghost over Eris’ collarbone. “Look, but don’t touch. Not until your alphas give you permission.” 

The Autumn Court male winks at you before trailing a path down Azriel’s rock solid abs with his wet mouth, licking and tasting every inch of the shadowsinger’s golden brown skin as you’d done moments ago. He grips Azriel’s length in his hands, stopping briefly to lick his palm and groan. 

“I can taste you on him, pet,” Eris says with a chuckle. “Your juices are all over Azriel’s cock.” 

“Please,” you plead. “Let me touch you.” 

The redhaired males grins. “Perhaps after I make the shadowsinger cum.” Fire snakes through your naked torso—a clear warning not to try anything until then. “If you’re a good girl, we’ll fuck you until you’re dripping with both of your alpha’s cum. That’s what you want, isn’t it? To be bred and mounted like the filthy little whore you are.”

You nod in agreement. Azriel flicks your nipple with his thumb, making you whimper. “Is our needy little pup desperate to be touched? You’re thinking of all the ways my fingers can give you relief, aren’t you? Don’t worry, filthy girl. I intend on fulfilling your deepest, darkest fantasies. If and only if you behave.” The shadowsinger teases with a bemused smirk. “Rest assured that your patience will be rewarded.”

With that, Eris begins pumping Azriel’s thick length with his right hand. The shadowsinger’s guttural moans rattle your bones and the way his wings flutter as he throws his head back makes you throb with need. It’s not long before Azriel’s shaking. With his chest heaving and his balls tightening, he could feel himself about to cum, but he didn’t want to do so unless he was inside of you. Eris seems to sense this and his flames release you from your restraints as he yanks you backwards. 

Azriel wastes no time in plunging inside your pussy while Eris sheathes himself in your ass. You’re on your hands and knees, claws emerging as you grip the sheets. The two males rail you from behind, drawing out both pain and pleasure, the latter of which racks through your body in waves until you’re a sobbing mess. 

You could feel the orgasm building—the third or fourth of the night. Honestly, it was hard to keep track as Azriel grips your waist and pounds into you. Eris is just as relentless as he gathers your hair into a ponytail, tugging you backwards as he continues fucking your tight hole.

Azriel kisses the base of your spine as the cold reprieve of his shadows snake through your naked form. “Cockhungry little slut. You’re taking us so well. You love this, don’t you? Letting Eris and I use and abuse you?” He rams himself inside of you and you cry out in pleasure. “You’re getting off on it. My innocent little angel. Absolutely ruined by her alphas.”

Eris matches his tempo, his pants filling the room as you writhe on the bed. “Come on, sweetheart. You’ve got another one in you.” He lightly tugs at your hair, forcing you to look at both males slamming into you from behind. “Cum for your alphas.”

The high hits you all at once and your walls constrict around Azriel’s length. The shadowsinger curses under his breath at the way you hug around his cock. You cum hard and fast—the pleasure taking over every never ending as you coat him with your arousal. Azriel and Eris both shoot their hot, sticky seed in your holes, filling you up to the brim as your limp body falls slack against the sheets. 

You must’ve blacked out because when you open your eyes again, you’re cradled in Azriel’s arms as Eris cleans you up with a damp cloth. You wince as he swipes at your sensitive sex and Azriel instantly curls his wings around you protectively. The Autumn Lord rolls his eyes and chuckles.

“You Illyrians have a flair for the dramatic, don’t you?” Eris teases as he tosses the cloth to the side. He knew you’d be needing it again soon given that your heat would make your sex drive nearly insatiable until week’s end. 

Azriel tucks a strand of loose hair behind your ear. “Be careful. Our little wolf is sensitive.”

“Ours,” Eris repeats. “Never thought I’d be sharing anything with you, shadowsinger.”

The shadowsinger smirks in response. “You didn’t seem to mind when my cock was in your hand.”

A feline smirk. “Don’t get too cocky now, Azriel. I’d do anything to please our little wolf, including fucking you too if that’s what she desires.”

Azriel smirks. “Be careful what you wish for.”

“You’d truly do that?” you ask in amazement, nearly dizzy with desire at the thought of the two males tangled up in one other. 

“We’d do anything for you, angel.” 

Eris winks. “And if you’re still standing by the end of the week, you can tell us which alpha fucks you best. Winner gets to make you cum as many times as you can handle while the loser watches. You’d like that wouldn’t you, sweetheart?” 

You swallow thickly, nodding while Eris chuckles. The fox-like grin on the Autumn Court heir’s freckled face makes your core churn, but Azriel snags at your attention as he kisses your wrist. 

“May the best male win, Eris.” 

Eris leans back against the pillows with a relaxed smirk. “I’m sure I will, shadowsinger.”

“You two are unbelievable,” you say with a small smile, secretly pleased that you awaken this competitive streak between your alphas. “But I appreciate you helping me through my heat.” 

“Any time, sweetheart,” Eris says with a fond smile. “Now get some rest, we have the whole week cut out for us.” 

Azriel pulls you into his chest as Eris snakes his arms through your waist. “We’re going to have so much fun with you, little wolf. This is only just the beginning.”

Your heart soars, excited for whatever else the two alphas had in store for you. Sandwiched between Azriel and Eris, you sigh in contentment before drifting off into sleep. 

Never in your life did you think that you’d be this grateful for your heat.

taglist: @viradeity @moony-thoughts @i-opened-the-chamber-of-secrets @demirunner @swansworth @searchingford @nessianxgwynriel @azriels-angels @brekkershadowsinger @morelovemorepeacemoretattoo-blog

[sadly-never-after]

Music in the EAH Universe and who listens to them Part 6.

This is just an excuse to try to make music puns and share music I think the characters would listen to. (Some of these are even canon by the books!) I don't even like a majority of these musicians but I am fully convinced of my choices here. I marked in colours the one that are canonically part of the EAH Universe.

Since Tumblr only allows 100 inline links for a post I have to make different parts.

Part 1 (Alistair, Apple, Ashlynn, Blondie, Briar, Bunny)

Part 2 (Cupid, Cedar, Cerise, Chase, Courtly, Daring)

Part 3 (Darling, Dexter, Duchess, Farrah, Faybelle, Ginger)

Part 4 (Holly, Hopper, Humphrey, Hunter, Jillian, Justine)

Part 5 (Kitty, Lizzie, Maddie, Meeshell, Melody, Nina)

Part 6 (Poppy, Ramona, Raven, Rosabella, Sparrow, Tucker)

(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈☁︎‎‎‧₊˚ Poppy O'Hair (❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈☁︎‎‎‧₊˚

Mayhem! in the Ballroom (Emperor's New Clothes, Victorious, She Had The World)

Lady Yaga (Born this way, Alejandro, Bad Romance)

Katy Fairy (Firework, Part of Me, Roar)

April Vineyard (Girlfriend, Sk8er Boi (if you guys listen to the entire song instead of only the first verses you'll understand), I Fell In Love With The Devil)

Truelove (Raspberry, Tongue Tied, Schoolboy)

·:¨༺ ♱🐺♱ ༻¨:· Ramona Badwolf ·:¨༺ ♱🐺♱ ༻¨:·

Rabbit Hole (Jennifer's Body, Credit In The Straight World, Northern Star)

Corset Suffocation (Feels Blind, Rebel Girl, Alien She)

Incandescence (Bring Me To Life, Everybody's Fool, Sweet Sacrifice)

Fall Out Book (Centuries, I Don't Care, Fake Out)

Writtin Park (Bleed It Out, Burning in the Skies, Runaway)

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽🔮☾₊‧⁺˖⋆ Raven Queen ⋆˖⁺‧₊☽🔮☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Taylor Quick (Anti-Hero, Enchanted, You're On Your Own Kid)

Royale (Royals, 400 Lux, Ladder Song)

Lady Yaga (Bloody Mary, Monster, Government Hooker)

I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY CURSED ME (Mad IQs, New Invention, Absinthe)

Spellannah Joffe (Die Your Daughter, Nobody Wants Me Tonight, My Dog Died)

༉‧₊˚🕯️🥀❀༉‧₊˚. Rosabella Beauty ༉‧₊˚🕯️🥀❀༉‧₊˚.

Penelorepe Scott (Rät, Dead girls, American Healthcare)

Bob Dalan-a-Dale (Blowin' in the wind, The Times They Are A-Changing, A Hard Rain's A Gonna Fall)

Joan Bard (We Shall Overcome, Diamonds & Rust, Girl of Constant Sorrow)

Mirra Simone (Sinnerman, Mississippi Goddam, Revolution)

Sam Book (A Change is gonna come, Mean Old World, Jesus gave me water)

🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆♪ °˖➴જ⁀➴ Sparrow Hood 🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆♪ °˖➴જ⁀➴

Knight Chloe (Too Close, Hooves, Michelle)

Black Rebel Carriage Club (Beat the Devil's Tattoo, American X, Weapon of Choice)

Wolf Killer Kids (Hang Me Up To Dry, First, Robbers)

The Legacy Keys (Lonely Boy, Weight of love, Little Black Submarines)

Prince Ferdinand (Take Me Out, Love Illumination, Lazy Boy)

Wands N' Roses (Paradise City, Sympathy for the devil, Sweet Child O' Mine)

He gets an extra one because the Knight Chloe ones are all very shippy.

✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆ Tucker ✩°｡ ⋆⸜ 🎧✮🎸⋆⭒˚｡⋆

Giantz (Feel Good Inc., Kids With Guns, Momentary Bliss)

The Spells (Little Girl, Is This It?, The Adults Are Talking)

The Legacy Keys (Fever, Go, Psychotic Girl)

Black Rebel Carriage Club (Red Eyes And Tears, Going Under, Restless Sinner)

Prince Ferdinand (The Dark of the Matinee, Curious, Billy Goodbye)

You are trapped on an eight-hour long road trip with these guys and you have to give one of them the aux chord.

[ephyreart]

Cigars & Wine ─ Captain Price x OC

[A/N] First time posting writing here! Hope it does well and is liked, it is also on my ao3!

Content ─ Angst, Fluff

Word Count ─ 1090

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A celestial pearl in the darkened sky, a silver imperfect sphere surrounded by an ethereal glow, a stellar body of enchanting beauty as its light shimmered upon us, his ocean-like optics illuminated as he gazed within the warmth of my honey-painted orbs.

Calloused hands soon found themselves upon my waist, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of my oversized shirt before he gradually began tracing delicate circles over my porcelain-like skin. Our bodies now woven, like threads interlaced jointly— his larger frame engulfing mine, the intoxicating fragrance of his musky aroma, a symphony of whiskey, cigars and cedar filling the room, hung heavy in the air, filling in my senses as I savoured his scent. The firewood crackled peacefully, a luminous glow radiating warmth, accompanied by a sweet melody as our bodies began to sway to the slow rhythm of the music, waltzing gracefully across the floor.

''Cheeky girl, putting that record on.'' He let out a low chuckle before he lifted my arm over my head, spinning my body around and immediately drawing me back into his embrace, his nose scrunching a little, a smile forming upon his lips as his gaze locked within my own. ''Still fixated on it, am I right, love?'' John leaned forward, his voice throaty and low as he whispered, the warmth of his breath tickling my skin, his lips soon pressing a gentle kiss upon my earlobe.

''I can't help it, John.'' I pouted a little as a shiver ran down my spine, melting into his touch, surrendering to the magnetic pull between us. His strong hands guided me effortlessly, our bodies moving in perfect harmony, flowing seamlessly, each step an echo of the other, like a pair of celestial bodies forever bound to orbit around each other, our paths intertwined in a cosmic waltz. ''I know, just teasing you, love, no need to get all pouty on me.'' He let out a throaty laugh, smirking before leaning forward— our lips meeting in a tender embrace, a burst of sweetness with a hint of liquor lingering upon as his facial hair tickled my cheeks. A rush of emotions surged through me; our kiss was like a summer breeze, soft and warm, caressing my skin gently as if time had stood still.

[ I wish it had. ]

''Keep talking like that, and maybe you'll wake up with no beard tomorrow.'' My cherry-tinted lips curved upwards, lifting my gaze to meet his own, letting out a muffled chuckle. My hands wrapped around his forearms, fingertips tracing patterns upon the fabric of his clothing before trailing up to his shoulders, soon cupping his face gently. ''Ah, threatening me now, aren't you, darling?'' John teased, his hands finding my hips and pulling me closer to him as my thumbs drafted circles against his cheeks, his beard poking my delicate skin.

My eyes twinkled with mischief as my lips curved into a smirk. I gracefully rose upon the tips of my feet, closing the gap between us with a gentle lean, our lips meeting in a tender, fleeting kiss. With a soft hum, I pulled away, our hands soon intertwining and with a playful grin, I guided John towards the couch— our steps slow and deliberate as we sat upon the velvety cushions. 

''I hope you don't mind me stealing one of your cigars.'' I smiled, and with a swift motion, my hand darted towards the coffee table, fingers deftly clasping the pack nestled amidst scattered magazines, pulling one out before positioning it between my lips, igniting the tip with a lighter. ''And here I thought you hated my cigars.'' John tilted his gaze— crystalline blue eyes twinkling with amusement, watching me take a slow drag, a slender stream of smoke curling from the end of the cigar held delicately between my fingers. ''Still haven't cut off your habit, eh?'' He murmured, a hint of worry lacing his voice.

''You're the one to talk, John.'' My eyes rolled as I swiftly rose from the couch, my body swaying as I spun around, walking with measured steps towards the kitchen bar counter. My fingers embraced the wine bottle with a gentle yet confident grip as I remained to ponder. Perhaps he was right; my habit of smoking had become too uncontrollable. With every puff, a silent betrayal unfolded, the toxic smoke infiltrating my once vibrant lungs, slowly eroding their vitality, choking the very breath of life from within, consuming me whole, drowning my sorrows— seeking to forget as I slowly continued destroying my very own body and mind with unhealthy habits.

 ''You need to let me go, Charlotte.''

My ears perked up, the bottle slipping from my grip, crashing upon the ground, glass shards scattered as my body froze. An eerie silence settled upon the room as if even the air held its breath. The absence of sound was deafening, creating an unsettling void that amplified every creak and rustle.

''What are you talking about?'' 

A faint whisper escaped my lips, choking on my words as I held a tight grip on the edges of the counter. Reality beckoned like an insistent call, drawing me back from the depths of my imagination. The images that had danced before my eyes dissolved like smoke, my world crumbling apart all over again. Eyes once full of life— bright and sweet like honey, the sparkle that once kindled my gaze had dulled, replaced by a haunting sadness.

Like crystalline dewdrops forming on a delicate flower petal, tears welled up within the depths of my eyes, transforming the honey-brown irises into a liquid haze, blurring my vision. My emotions overflowed— consuming my mind whole as the glistening droplets clung to my eyelashes, my body trembling in fear as I desperately gasped for air.

''John?''

I had now burnt out like a fading star— the gentle yet once fierce flame within me had now dimmed to a mere ember, as my once radiant light now flickered weakly, like a celestial body finally nearing the end of its life cycle, leaving behind a hollow emptiness, now replaced by a dim, distant twinkle. The moon shone upon my figure as I dropped to my knees, tears overflowing, dribbling down my cheeks, as the firewood persisted in crackling gently, our record on repeat.

And in that solitary moment, my heart shattered as I finally grasped that the dance I had cherished so dearly was a tender embrace with his ghost, forever lost to the depths of my own imagination.

[takami-rising]

tempore pluvarium: part i ☀︎

tempore pluvarium

➳ at the time of the rains

character: rengoku kyojuro x reader notes: aah so this is my first proper fic, i poured my heart soul into this i really hope you'll like it!! part ii is in the works, i promise it will have more plot genre: fluff with sugar on top and a speck of angst warnings: canon typical violence, but nothing too graphic ambience: rain (yt) | music (spotify) (play simultaneously for the ultimate reading experience) preview: You’re beautiful. He’s always thought so, that you belong there, amongst blossoming trees and their dew dropped leaves, harmonizing with the gentle breeze. The rising sun tries to compete with the tranquil your presence brings, but ultimately it fails.

Rain pours horribly that afternoon when Kyojuro finds you scurrying down the main street, geta grinding against soaked gravel, dirt staining the pristine white of your tabi. The sight is quite endearing, so out of your perceived character to have put yourself in this rather reckless predicament. A side of you he has not witnessed much of. The downpour is unforgiving, your lovely silk komon sure to be ruined at this rate, no matter how the magenta lilac littered across the fabric seem to bloom in color by the skies' gift.

You nearly trip and fall when the wet drops no longer stain your skin with their awful cold and you look up to find the man smiling down at you from under his haori held high. His eyes flicker like fires in the night, even in this dreadful weather, the orange glow showering you with an illusion of warmth. Or perhaps this sensation is merely an afterthought of how your pulse suddenly gallops.

Still, you utter his name with thankful relief. "Rengoku-san..."

The aroma of cedar embar mix with the fresh air is near intoxicating as you settle in by his side, transports you to another time and place, empties your mind of worries that weigh heavy. You nearly forget about the medicinal herb that had willed you into town before anything else, a soft pat to your erireassuring that it is indeed tucked neatly between the folded fabrics.

Your poor father had awoken in a terrible pain, clinging to his missing leg as if it were still there. How awful it is to relive the day of his accident, too young to have understood back then that all you could do was cry when he returned home without the lower limb. It never did heal how it was supposed to despite the doctor's efforts and now he suffers daily. Humid days are always the worst. A run to town was the least you could do to not feel as helpless as that night.

Kyojuro laughs a little when you call yourself foolish for trying to outrun the rain without an umbrella, especially when the skies have been idling all day, but quickly draws attention to the fact that he had tried to beat the very same disadvantageous odds. The world stops when a soft snicker sneaks past your lips as well, delicate hand lifting to hide the extent of your grin.

He hears you sing sometimes in the woods, soft melodies that lifts through the air like bird’s song while your little sister skips at your side. There’s a small basket on your arm, your fingertips hovering, searching for fruit and vegetables to pick. You’re beautiful. He has always thought so, that you belong there, amongst blossoming trees and their dew dropped leaves, harmonizing with the gentle breeze. The rising sun tries to compete with the tranquil your presence brings, but ultimately it fails.

His heart hammers against his chest like it wants to break free.

Your eyes glance up and meet his for a fleeting moment before darting past him. You do hope his haori is not ruined.

The roads always start to look the same after a short while. It becomes so easy to get lost in your surroundings, leaves that flutter by, imitating butterflies as they ride the wind in a playful chase for one another. You invite the blonde to stay for tea once you pass the threshold to your father's estate, insist on it, at least until the rain subsides. Kyojuro escorts you to the door, doesn't lower his arms before you are safe from the drops on the engawa. You will not have it on your conscience lest he falls ill, but he is quick to decline, insists that the rain does little to bother him and he does not wish to impose. In truth, he is not entirely convinced his heart can spend another moment at your side without bursting.

You offer him an umbrella, your brother's, you can only roll your eyes at the thought of how he will inevitably chew you out later, but the gesture is justified. Kyojuro is a gentleman and you are certain he would have provided any other with the same kindness he has shown you with no thought for reciprocation. It feels only fair in your heart that his act of chilvalry is rewarded. You stand firm before he can express his gratitude, that he may return the umbrella once he invited back for dinner. You will send a letter.

He bows before taking his leave. “I shall await it with idle.”

Every meal can be appreciated once you have faced death on an empty stomach. When you've walked endless miles as your limbs quiver from a hunger that's wrenching its way through your guts like acid. It alters your heartbeat, makes you want to drop on your knees to shove dirt down your throat, just to fill your stomach with something. Kyojuro treats every meal like it may be his last; he never knows when it might be. You haved prepared his dinner this evening with such careful love he soars from the very first bite. An ecstasy that spreads throughout his body, seeps into his bones and fills him to the brim with a symphony of flavors. Words don't come easy, but your eyes gleam so wonderfully as you offer him yet another taste. They're like fireflies, your eyes, vibrating.

Your mother finds him... eccentric. But he is kind and honorable. His laugh is loud from the depths of his belly, yet patience shines through when your baby sister becomes enamored by the vermillion in his hair. It's like flames, she exlcaims and simply must how him the kanzashi pin she owns in the very same shade. He tells a tale of a fire wielding prince, travelling the world for his father's accept to one day rule the kingdom, with dragons and spiritual beings, but only once the prince looks inside himself will he find what he is truly looking for. Your sister eats it up with wide eyes. Kyojuro treats your family like equals despite the debt you owe his and he looks at you with such rapid falling adoration, your mother can only have nothing to object when you return his gaze.

Your encounters with Kyojuro are frequent, they always have been. He appears in uniform and over the years, it became rarer to see him out of it. Black, darkness smothers it, seams that have been ripped apart and stitched back together. You do not recognize the fabric, but it is clear that it has been recycled and repurposed time and time again. The texture is rough the time your hand brushes by his wrist, heavy against his broad frame, unlike anything you have come across in the shops. You've searched in quiet curiosity, cannot quite fathom what work could require such an attire, but the burden must be so heavy, lonely. Yet, you do not ask about the scars that paint his complexion nor the time he returned through town with a broken arm. You do not need to question the hardened skin as your fingertips trace lines in his palms to know that he sacrifices a part of himself that can never be regained.

He escorts you along the riverbank when you go to retrieve water, breath stuck in his throat as your arm curl under his, your form pressed to his side. It slows his steps to an amble walk in the hopes that you'll follow his attempt to savor each other for just that of a while longer. Sometimes your index finger draws absent patterns into his bicep while you comment how busy the water seem this morning. Perhaps it's eager to bathe in the lasting colors of the sunrise.

He misses your warmth when you stop to kneel by the stream, gazing at the cloud's reflection in the river. You declare it a crime to disturb such a scenic picture. Natural and untouched by man and here you are trying to take a piece of it home. A guilty part of you quietly wishes you could do so.

"I would hang it by my bed, I think," you muse.

The tasuki sash keeps your sleeves locked as you dip the wooden bucket in the river, hands still careful not to dirty too much of your kimono. Your face drops, almost disappointed that sky isn't painted in the liquid water anymore.

Your voice bears trace of melancholy. "But I suppose there would not be much reason to come here other than drudgery could I look at it every day without effort."

Sparrows gather curiously, skittish at first but a hop in their step once your chore has been put aside. They almost welcome your company. Kyojuro finds himself near convinced that you may very well be the reincarnation of a spirit in this forest until you reach into your sleeve and retrieve a small pouch of sunflower seeds to empty in your palm. The tiny birds are simply acclimated to your song and the soft, carefree giggles that break up your melody. He joins you on his knees and you take his open palm, gently like he's sculpted from the finest porcelain money could buy, to drop the remaining seeds. You take great joy in watching the skittish chicks peck at his hands with caution. He captures the height of your smile, your touch imprinted on his wrist, engraving your very presence onto himself. The birds twitter and chirp.

"They think you are kind," he says.

You cannot help the airy laugh that leaves your lips. "I'm sure they do."

Kyojuro allows himself the silent pleasure of resting his hand upon yours the way back to your estate, fingertips lingering before you slide from his side. He's not sure you even realize, but it's enough to keep the fluttering in the pit of his stomach all the way home.

There are days where he pulls himself away from you, from the world. Blood stains his uniform on those days. Your gaze longs for him but he keeps his eyes locked to the sky, talks heartily of the clouds and their shapes, muses on the stories they tell. If you did not know him any better you would think nothing wrong. But his voice is thick in his throat, swallows like shards of glass that tear his vocal cords apart. He does not even attempt to reach for the lunch wrapped in your furoshiki, fingers restless against the blanket he so politely unfolded for the both of you on the grass. He remains court and genteel as ever, but even his voice wavers when his thoughts can't seem to keep up, catches him off guard as he apologizes for fumbling his words.

You utter his given name for the first time then. It slips out unconsciously the way you've chanted it in your head so many times. Dripping with a love that scours every crevice of his soul for an opening to pour it into. It beckons him within your embrace, eyes wet and glossy as he searches for your touch, presses himself against you with caution. He does not always trust you to be real, worries that some deep, dark part of him has fragmented you in his mind in order to cope. One wrong move and you may shatter, vanish from before him in a cruel nightmare.

A gentle breeze gives him the final push and he collapses into you. Face buried in the fabrics of your kimono, limbs curling up with a strained tremble as the sound of your steady heartbeat and the vibrations your quiet hum carries to your chest, finally coaxes him over the edge. His arms move around you, hands nearly tearing apart the knot of your obi.

You hold him, cradle his head to your chest as the world disappears from around you.

Kyojuro told you keep your eyes looking forward. Grabbed your shoulders and pleaded with you to perservere, a promise that he would nurture the wound on your soul if it did not heal. Such big words from such a small boy. You had felt even smaller in his embrace, crumbled and shivering against his form. He bore a sword on his hip even then, naive and barely adolescent.

The night had been so early. You only snuck out with the innocent want to see the fireflies They were always so pretty as they flickered and soared, illuminated in the moonlight. You hadn't meant to leave the door open, only managed to sense the hunched over beast sneaking into your home out of the corner of your eyes. Your father convinced you later it had been a rabid dog, but you are sure your fragile mind would have believed anything.

By the time your young wit realized the ominous presence, it was already too late.

All you remember is the nauseating fear, the bile gathering in the back of your throat before you are dragged away. Calloused hands gripping yours, the locks of gold and crimson that obscured your view. Kyojuro had you tucked away in a corner of the house. Ordered by his father to keep an eye on you until help could arrive, draped in his cloak of fire and flames, katana stained with the blood of the beast that had infiltrated your home that night. He'd comforted you to the best of his ability, as much as a stranger could, a child no less, but the tortured screams of your father as they had to tend to his mangled leg immediately sent you into a frenzy, buried your face in the older boy's chest in the hopes of muffling the ghastly sounds. Kyojuro covered your ears, eyes alight like guiding candles drawing you towards their everglowing flame, into his warmth. You wished so earnestly to stay in his arms for eternity.

Gratitude of his close proximity grew up with you. A small detour to the river or town and you may pass the gates to the Rengoku estate, locks of flaming hair and deep laughs glimpsed through the corner of your eye, settling a blossoming comfort in your chest.

The image of that night still haunts you to this day, the memory eating away at your very essence, physique heavy and paralyzed as you lay sunken in the softness of your futon unable to find sleep, just waiting for it to wither away with the night.

It's inadvertent how your arms clutch his collapsed form tighter, soaked in the warm rays of the sun in this absent clearing of the woods, secluded and hidden like it had appeared just for two of you. Hands brushing through the forest of his unruly tresses as you urge him not to be so strong. You won't tell. Voice soft and hushed, only for him, you sing a lullaby to cleanse his being of malice. It becomes your little secret, that he spills tears wrapped in your embrace, tongue-tied and voiceless while his mortal soul bleeds.

Kyojuro is ever aware of the things in life that are beyond his control. Wheels in constant motion, there is no need to dwell on them. But, it still manages to put a stagger in his movements when one day his eager tsugoku asks if he plans to pledge his devotion to you soon.

It stems from how he had tucked a finely sculptured hair pain in between your locks. Your sister's grave fascination with Mitsuri's hair enough of a distraction he needed. Of course, he did not disclose how the kanzashi has been carried in his sleeve for three days now, on the account that an opportunity may present itself. He simply thought the color complimented your eyes, petals and pearls like waterfall against your shimmering strands. Your fingertips touch the delicate jewelry with care as you tell him how lovely it is, a wonderful shade of pink adonishing your cheeks.

He offers to wait for you, eyes of amber follow you through the shop as you check off the items on your list. Your sister catch sight of recently stocked honey and hangs off your arm, asking to make castella with stars in her eyes. How can you possibly refuse?

Denying his love for you is futile. You enflame his heart with passion. A yearning that spreads all the way into his fingertips, twitching for the chance to grace your skin. You are softer than the finest silk. Minutes with you are infitnite and he wants to spend each one pouring his soul into you like you're the very essence of his existence. He loves you. He loves you, he loves you, he loves you. But, some deep, dark part of him accepts that he is bound to lose you.

Misturi leans close to his ear. "Master, they must be a beautiful soul to have your affection. Do not doubt yourself."

Kyojuro escorts you home. There is no doubt he is a swordsman when he brings your hands between his tightly, wants to memorize each bend of your knuckles before he has to let you go once again, with rough palms but a touch so gentle your heart jumps in your throat. He places a small pouch in your palm, closing your grip around it as he tells you with grave intent to keep it on your person at all times. It may soothe him more than you, but his eyes are pleading. The finely embroidered wisteria flower in the fabric a promise to protect you when he cannot.

next part