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hirschkuh-im-traum · 12 days ago

Text

Sunbeam

the plot is: working one early morning you notice a man under the awning, hiding from the rain. you let him in to recognise him as a famous radio star. very soon he becomes the regular customer in your café. and while you're on the cloud with love, the rains become more and more heavily this season, and one day you get caught in a frightening thunderstorm. what alastor will do to comfort you while lighting flashes and thunder roars above you?

part one, part two (smut)

words ≈ 6.4k

tags: romance, age gap (alastor is over thirty and reader is in her early twenties), reader is afraid of thunderstorms, reader is a fan of alastor's radioshow, alastor kisses passionately

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

“-but enough of this eerie gossip about the Butcher! Now we turn to a short weather forecast! It looks as if we’re in for a spell of showery weather over the next few days, dear listeners, so it's just the right time to prepare your umbrellas and mackintoshes! The south of the state is prone to torrential rains and thunderstorms. Be careful, as heavy rains may result in floods, and be warned it's not just downpours that can cause damage — sweltering heat might ruin your weekend plans, but at least you won't drown, for the heavy rains only start on Monday.”

The low burst of thunder made you jump up in surprise. Monday, huh?

“Well, well, well,” His voice swam out of the atmospherics with an irritated buzzing, “I do hope our meteorologists didn't trick you and me, for I have absolutely no desire to get soaked tonight hahaha!” The statement sounded a tad annoyed and his laughter seemed even evilish. But you could understand him. Turning the lamp off and pulling back the curtain, you looked outside.

The sky seemed extremely high, and the stars had just begun to decorate it with their light, but the air was humid, and the trees stood motionless. It was difficult to breathe, the air seemed sticky and too warm for the night. And there were no stars on the horizon. A black spot covered the edge of the firmament, and it seemed that it was about to fall on the forest below.

There must be a thunderstorm tonight.

Regardless of the stuffiness you closed the window more tightly, not wanting to hear even an echo of the thunder again.

Alastor's voice sounded in the static again, “-ut we love our dear NOLA no matter what kind of surprises it springs us, don’t we?” The voice became suddenly serious, as always when the time of Alastor's programme came to the end. But this time you heard unfamiliar notes of tiredness in his tone. You glanced at the small radio on your desk, as if you could see the face of the announcer to read his mood.

“Well, my dear listeners, be careful and don't leave your homes when you hear a storm warning.” Another burst, but this time a bit quieter, thanks to the tightly closed windows. “That's all for today, folks! Goodnight.” And with another harsh rumble the broadcast was over. Through the crackle of atmospherics a piano melody could be heard. You turned off the radio and looked at the window again. A few wet trails were sliding down the glass. You turned off the lights and climbed into your bed,

“It'll be a hard night…” The weight of a thick blanket felt like a loving embrace. You brought your knees to your chest, hid your arm under your head; lying like a kitten on a pillow you felt calmer, safer under this soft shelter, while the rain pelted harder and harder on the window, and the thunder grumbling

clapped closer. You were safe in your bed in the house of your parents, but you were sorry for those who still didn't get home at that hour. And you worried about him too.

“Hope he’ll be alright…” You mumbled in your cover and fell asleep.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

The air was cool when you came out in the morning and headed for the bakery where you were working. It was also a small café, where the customers could order a cup of tea or coffee, or even a glass of liquor, to eat the baked goods right there. And you were one of the two bakers. As it was said before the bakery was small.

It was early morning and the darkness hadn’t yet completely left the streets; everything seemed monochrome, for the weak morning sun couldn't light the world through the dull sky. Your heels clattered loudly on the ground wet and glossy after the night downpour. In your hand you carried an umbrella, ready to use it in any minute.

The silhouette of the bakery came out from the haze, and you hurried to the building, jumping over the puddles on the road. You knew you blundered when you had refused to wear a sweater today, you felt how the chill was creeping up under the wide sleeves of your coat, freezing you mercilessly, and you wished to end up in a warm building as soon as possible.

Finally you reached the backdoor, opened it with an extra key and stepped inside. Immediately your cheeks turned red in the warm air of the room. The café was run by your uncle who was also the other baker at the place. Recently you came in the morning, prepared the oven, baked some most popular options of the regular visitors; in the afternoon your uncle came and you could go home while he stayed until the closing. This schedule satisfied you, anything was better than those days when you were attached to the kitchen for twelve hours per day. The only minus was the early awakening, but you gradually got used to it.

The oven was lit, the dough was made, and you went to the hall. You loved these early hours when nobody had come yet. It was silent and calm, and now only the sound of the light rain outside brushed your hearing. Fortunately, you reached the café before you could get soaked. You didn't turn on the lamps, and the room sank in greyish morning light. The heels of your shoes joyfully clattered as you headed behind the counter to the vac pot — to make this morning better, you needed to sip one cup of coffee.

You boiled the water and settled the glass with the beans on the top of the glass cup with hot water. The steam softened the rich powder, filled the cup with liquid and you stirred the mixture. The soft, bitter smell enveloped the room. You closed your eyes and inhaled deeply, savouring the scent. A small smile appeared on your face.

You gasped when you opened your eyes and saw a silhouette outside the door in a silver haze of the rain. A man in a coat and a hat on his head stood with his back to the door. He was hiding from the sudden drizzle under the awning. There were still thirty minutes before opening, but as you ran up to the door, you turned the sign “open” to the street and unlocked the door. The bell above rang when you opened the door, drawing the stranger's attention.

“Nice weather we are having today, aren't we? Please, come in, sir!” You said with a smile and went back to the counter.

You heard the steps of the man's shoes behind you, as he slowly walked into the café and looked around.

“That's so kind of you, dear. The rain just caught me off guard!”

The cup you held in your hand almost slipped out of your fingers. Your heart fell somewhere deep the moment you heard the sound of the voice. You hesitantly glanced up at the man, who had just taken off his homburg hat, shook off the droplets from it and ran his fingers through his slightly curled dark hair. He then adjusted his glasses, slightly weeping in the warm room, and cast you a look. You lowered your gaze, blushing brightly as a blooming rose.

It was the voice you listened to every evening. The voice telling you the recent news of New Orleans, the voice announcing to you the jazz novelty, which you liked to sway to, the voice joking on the air and making you laugh even on the most rainy days. The smooth, velvet baritone with transatlantic accent, which was the last sound before you sank into sleep.

And now he was there?! Hiding from the sudden rain because he had forgotten his umbrella, though he was the one who reminded the whole state to never let it off of their hands. A shy smile crept to your face, with slightly trembling hands you filled the second cup with just brewed coffee. Too bad you still hadn't baked the first cakes, what a joy would it be to feed him with a self baked pie. But a fresh brewed coffee was also a pleasant start on the cold rainy morning, so you carefully put the cup filled to the rim with a hot liquid onto the counter,

“You wouldn't refuse a cup of coffee, sir, would you?” You jumped up by surprise when you lifted your head to see Alastor leaning against the counter on his elbows and watching you. His eyes of dark and deep colour, as black coffee in porcelain cups, looked at you with an intelligible intention, as if he was waiting for something from you, or even expecting you to do something amusing.

“Y-your coffee, sir.” You mumbled, feeling heat on your cheeks.

“Mmm.” He was smiling ear to ear, resting his chin on the long fingers, eyes half closed as he glanced down, “Oh, cher, you're turning this dreadful morning into a fairy tale!” He reached to the cup and you hurried to remove your hands, but his fingertips reached to yours to brush your skin slightly, almost unnoticeable. The touch seemed an accident, but even that was enough to bloom up your blush more.

As Alastor brought the porcelain to his lips he didn't take his eyes from you. You also took a cup for a sip, and just as him you locked your eyes to him. The hot liquid warmed you from the inside and you couldn't suppress a smile; Alastor smiled behind his cup too, closing his eyes. “Mmm. Very good coffee, my dear.” He praised in a husky voice. His lips slightly glistened as he put the cup on the table. His tongue quickly cleaned his lips.

You lowered your gaze but immediately your eyes returned to him. It felt wrong and impossible to look aside from him, so handsome and bewitching he was.

You'd like to say what a pleasure it was to give him the drink, but you felt how strange it would sound, so you only smiled back at the compliment.

For a minute none of you said a word, you spent this time looking at him, Alastor seemed to let his thoughts sway freely in his mind as he was drinking his coffee at the counter. You didn't miss a single detail about him, nor the sharp curve of his upper lip, nor the length of his eyelashes, nor the only appearing silver on his temples. Alastor was as handsome as he was famous, and there was no wonder why in last fascicle of the local newspaper he was listed as an eligible bachelor. He looked younger than his age, though there was no doubt he was a man of experience for he had the smile as if he kept a secret unavailable to others. A magnetic smile making you wish to know him better. To share the secret with him. But you didn't dare to dream about such things.

Your stream of thoughts was interrupted by a low clap of thunder. The drizzle turned into a downpour.

“Oh… Seems I haven't got soaked enough yet.” Alastor chuckled, putting the hat on his head. His eyes met yours, “Thank you for warming me, dear, that was incredibly sweet of you.” You didn't know how your hand appeared in his palm, but he was already leaving a light kiss on your knuckles. His eyes were locked to your face. “Have a wonderful day, my dear!” He wished you, turning on his heels.

You hesitated just for a second before shouting out,

“Wait, sir! You can't leave without that!”

Alastor stopped and turned his head back, arching his eyebrow in surprise. You ran out from the counter, squeezing something in your hands. A shining smile didn't leave your face as you stopped in front of Alastor. He was much taller than you, and you tilted your head to side, saying,

“Please, sir, take it with you!” You reached him a black umbrella with a wooden handle. Alastor stared down, a confused smile on his face.

“Oh no, my dear, that's too kind of you! What a gentleman am I if I take away a lady's umbrella? No no no, cher!” He shook his head, hiding his little embarrassment behind the laughter.

“Don't worry, sir, that's not mine.” You wanted to help him one last time. You already could consider this day as the best in your life, you didn't only meet the famous radio star, you also sheltered him from the rain, you treated him to coffee, which he praised. He would remember you, you hoped. And what else could you ask for? Just another act of kindness to make that wide smile brighter, to soften these dark eyes, to take yourself a small place in his memory, for you would cherish this day, and a greedy part of you wanted him to do the same.

“A customer left it last week and still hasn't come back. So I believe it's fine if you take it. And don't worry about me, I have my umbrella in a lovely shade of red.” You handed him the umbrella and he took it. His hand ran down the waterproof fabric, another hand squeezed the handle. He glanced at you, his eyes flashing behind the glasses, and at this gaze you felt heat on your cheeks again.

“Thank you, dear.” He said in a low voice, making you swallow hard.

The door was open, the sound of the heavy rain reached your ears as Alastor stepped outside, hiding himself under a new but lost umbrella.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Since Alastor left the small café your image hadn't left him.

At first he was surprised. He didn't even see you then, only heard the sound of the opening door behind him and then a cheerful tone of a young lady inviting him. He knew by the sign on the wall that it was still too early for the place to be open, obviously someone from the staff saw him from the indoors and pitied him. You ran away faster than he had time to have a look at you.

As he stepped inside the scent of coffee enveloped him, making him regret he missed his breakfast and even coffee that day. You'd already hid behind the counter, and your small frame was barely visible behind an empty shop window on top of it. Alastor looked around, listened closely, but there was deep silence in the café, not a sound was heard even from the kitchen, only the jingle of cups from your side. It seemed like you were here alone. And you, a young beautiful girl, let him in. Alastor found it strange. Such kindness and good nature bordering on recklessness in their times? in this city? That was a rarity and oddity.

He thanked you. Your blush and surprised look didn't stay unnoticed for him, seemed like you recognised him and reacted like most others. Though it was not so often that anybody could recognise him just by one phrase. You seemed like a devoted fan.

A smile spread across Alastor's face as he came closer to the counter you were working behind. He always liked a little talk with a fan. Not like it was useful (even when some of them took attempts to give him advice, which was extremely irritating), but their praises always were music to his ears. And on a beastly morning like that why wouldn’t he seize the opportunity and consume the sweet words of an admirer?

So he approached the counter and propped himself against the wood. You were adorable. A lovely shade of red was still on your cheeks, lips curved in a shy smile, you seemed trying to suppress. Your hands adroitly moved around a vintage vac top, filled two cups with just brewed drink, and you didn't notice him at all. Alastor didn't want to interrupt you. He knew it would be delightful to see your surprise blended with fear when you'd raise your head and see him so close. That was actually entertaining to frighten people so innocently.

And Alastor savoured your wide open eyes and speechless mouth, you nervously stuttering words. You were still so young, just stepped over the border of childhood, and the shock on your face looked almost comical like in a picture show and yet very lovely.

But his mischievous intentions were forgotten as you handed him coffee. Unexpected and attentive gesture of you. Before he let his lips touch the warm rim of the cup, he already felt warmth spreading inside him. Alastor didn't take his eyes from you, taking the first sip, but the rich taste made him close his eyes in pleasure. As he looked at you again, he saw how lovely you debated with yourself, as you couldn't decide if you wanted to watch him or to lower your gaze in shame. Once again Alastor found you sweet and well-bred. Although he took you as a usual fan in the start, for all this time you didn't act like that. Quite the reverse, you seemed to hide this part of you, and you only showed your tenderness and politeness. He liked it more than an empty flattery, and appreciated your self control.

The colour of your eyes, peering at him from behind a rim of the cup, their shape and the mood shining inside chained his gaze to yours. But a clap of thunder broke this chain. Alastor noticed how your body tensed at the low sound, you looked up and behind his back as if you could see the thunderstorm forming right there. Were you afraid of thunderstorms? Another thing he found childish and yet lovely. He noticed that your childness, which was presented in your face and gestures, aroused a strange want of protection in him, and as he let himself to daydream for a second, he thought this want wouldn't spoil anything with your tendency to invite strangers in a place while you were alone. Alastor sighed mournfully. He didn't want to leave nor the warm room, nor the pleasurable presence of you. But he had to go and soak in the rain, otherwise he would be late for work. But before that, just one kiss.

But it seemed you didn't let him go so easily. Your voice reached him again.

And now he walked under the umbrella you'd gifted him. Even being far from you, he still was protected by your care, which, despite your young age, was similar to a mother's love. And though you could be mistaken for a young, you were differently not a child.

The next day he didn't think twice before visiting the small bakery again. But it was a surprise for you. Especially when he returned on the next day again. And then again. And again. Now you could even call him a regular customer, and even your customer. Alastor came right to the opening hours, bought a half of the bread you'd just baked, shared his plans for today's show with you, and you told him how much you enjoyed the previous one, and then you always have him a cup of black coffee; and his wish for you to have a good day always came true, for with your mind being occupied with the thoughts only about him, how could you notice something bad happening to you or to others? You became blind from love and saw your life in pink, but you didn't care. It was a pleasant feeling. To have him as the first person you talk to in the morning, to make his teeth bare in a genuine smile after he tasted your food, to feel blessed at his praises and compliments. He made each dull morning brighter, and you tried to do the same to him. And you succeeded. Alastor woke up every morning, even after an exhausting night of a hunt, with a smile on his face. He thought that in a half of an hour he would see you, he would eat your bread and drink your coffee, he would speak to you, he would make you laugh, he would make you happier just as you made him right since the day you met.

Your favourite songs appeared on the radio.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

It was hot as hell. The stuffiness of the oncoming thunderstorm smothered everyone and especially poor souls like you who had to work in a small kitchen near the oven.

Kneading dough is hard, but it's even harder when you're sweating profusely, working in a tiny kitchen with only one open window, and the oven is blazing as if it's about to cleanse a sinner of his sins. The cream you used to decorate an apple pie simply melted and ran down, wetting the already apple-juice-soaked bottom before you even got it out on the counter. But the chaos reigned not only in the kitchen but also in the dining room. After a spell of hard rains a lot of people feel sick with flu, so the small bakery’s staff diminished to only two waitresses, a bartender, who now also managed the cash register, and you. As for your uncle, he was suffering from headaches due to this changeable and capricious weather, but he promised that he wouldn't leave you alone and he would come, which you had strong doubts about, because he was already two hours late.

With your weak hands, as if they were threaded, you were whipping the butter cream, and prayed that your uncle would keep his word. One more minute in a close kitchen and you would pass out, you had no doubt about it. But as it often happened to you, your thoughts took another line, and now you saw the tanned face with glasses and a bright smile before your eyes. The daydreams about Alastor became a routine, there wasn't not even a day but an hour when you didn't think about the radio host. Usually your fantasies about him brought you happiness, but this day your fancies had a more bitter taste. For reasons unknown to you, Alastor didn't visit the bakery that morning. With sadness you started this day and sadly you were living it through. With a bitter smile you even thought that the day was awful because he didn't wish you a good day. You knew it wasn't true, but you still were sorry for not meeting him today.

“Sure it's a scorcher today! How are ya, pie?“ In the door frame your uncle was standing. His cheeks were slightly pink after a walk under hot sun, and the collar of his shirt was soaked with sweat, but the wide smile, baring his big white teeth, was the light you longed for. Suddenly his expression changed, an anxious frown formed between his brows, “Something’s wrong, pie?”

Only then did you realise that a tear was running down your cheek, and as you lowered your head to hide your weakness from him, a droplet fell into a bowl with cream. Well, now you remembered that in bedlam you'd forgotten to add salt.

“It's nothing, really, j-just happy you feel better!” You looked up at your uncle now smiling as softly as you could. The tiredness, solitude and feel of losing control washed over you like strong waves of the ocean, making you drown in your own sorrow. Suddenly you felt yourself so small like a little child, devoid of protection and love. And you hated to feel it, you knew you weren't alone. The soft hands on your shoulders, brushing and consoling you, were the proof of it. But still your heart was aching. It was beyond good sense, you couldn't control your feelings. Not anymore. This day was just too much, your feelings were too much, your unspoken love, that brought more hopelessness than faith, was also too much. And you knew it was stupid to cry over one single day without him but you couldn’t help it.

“I'm fine, really,” You said. Even the traces of your tears had disappeared, only a little redness was still visible. Your strength always bemused your uncle.

“Well, if you say so… But are you sure?” He almost agreed but then again sent you a worried look. You only nodded. “Well then. I'll deal with it.” His grey eyes ran worriedly over the floured countertop, the table covered with eggshells and the oven where the cake layers were browning. He used to work in order, but never blamed you when your working place turned into a pastry chaos. Maybe it spoiled you a tad, but you were glad that now he only encouragingly winked at you and took the bowl from your hands. No reproaches, no advice for the future.

“Hey, where's my doberge?!” A waitress rushed into the kitchen, anger and anticipation in her voice.

“Gee, even a doberge!” Your uncle put his hands on his hips as if preparing to chide the customers for their excessive gluttony and even the waitress, who agreed to take their numerous orders. “My dear, you've done the great work, but enough! Let your old uncle take over!”

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

Your uncle was right, it was a hellish scorcher! Barely the temperature outdoors was different from the temperature in the kitchen you’d just left. With disgust you felt your blouse was still stuck to your back. You wished it was windy or even rainy, anything just to wash away all this tiredness and hopelessness from you. But heading for the forest, where you hoped to find some rest in the shadows of the canopies you didn't notice a tremendous grey cloud reaching closer behind your back.

The place you were heading for was a park at the edge of the forest. Your café was located not far and often you took short strolls there. Though the park was beautiful and comfortable, not many people could be seen there, which surprised and also pleased you. Especially now when all you wanted was to be alone, not to meet anyone. Well, to the exclusion of one person. You longed to meet him any time, any hour and minute. But you knew you wouldn't meet him.

You walked along the path, fanning yourself with your palm, your hopes hadn’t been justified, and the grove turned out to be as stuffy as the city. You were ready to whimper from frustration. But then suddenly everything became quiet and dark, as if someone threw a black veil upon the world. Leaves stopped rustling, the trees froze, and the birds seemed to lose their voices. Anxiety and fear lumped in your stomach with ache. You understood that no, you didn’t want it to rain. And as you tilted your head back, a cold droplet fell on your nose.

But nothing more.

Maybe the look of the steel grey sky was frightening but it was inoffensive. You still had time to come back and hide under the roof of some safe place — the café or your house, but as you sighed in relief, the wind, as if imitating you, blew harshly, blowing your hat off your head. You gasped and ran through the bushes after the loss. The wind carried your hat along the green grass and you bent yourself, chasing after it. You ran out to a small glade, covered with wildflowers here and there. Finally the wind calmed down, letting your loss stop and cover a tiny daisy. As you bent lower to grab it, another gust of wind blew this time even stronger, but you managed to catch the hat and put it firmly on your head. Coming back to the path you'd turned off you held your hat by the brim; the wind ruffled your hair and lifted your skirt above the knees.

You stopped, looking around. Was it the very path you left two minutes ago? If so, was this dry tree always here? You were sure you would have noticed such a high, thin and grotesque crooked tree earlier. But you also were sure that you couldn't have lost the way just by stepping aside from the path for several metres. After all, you chased your blown hat only forward, so you simply just turned around to return to the original path.

Right?

Right! you thought and turned to the left, where you came from.

But as you came further no signs of the park were visible. Raindrops rustled against the tree leaves and anxiety grew within you.

* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *

It was obvious, you had chosen the wrong path. You were walking so long you would had already found the park if only you had turned to the right side. Tears formed in your eyes and you were about to cry out loud as a child. After all, what was the sense of hiding your grief? Either way you would never return back home. A few drops fell from your chin, you sniffed, but suddenly,

“Oh dear! What are you doing here, cher? ” You immediately turned around to the voice, which you’d recognised by the first syllable and that caused the familiar thrill and warmth within you. Alastor stood two steps from you, he looked at you with a mix of concussion and embarrassment, amazed that he met you here. He was in a rather unusual state for him, without his jacket or even waistcoat, just a cream shirt tucked in brown trousers and braces. His unexpected appearance was already bemusing, but this informal outfit was enough to make you doubt that all of this wasn't a dream. But all your doubts dissolved as he made a step to you, cupping your cheek in his palm carefully, as if he was afraid he could harm you. This touch wasn’t like in your dreams, it was real. Only now you felt that you were cold and you leaned to his warm touch. As his thumb caressed your skin, Alastor realised you were crying, so he cupped your other cheek too. Now fully in his gentle capture, with your face between his soft palms, you could only stare at him.

“Well, cher, care to tell me why are you here?” He tilted his head and smiled, but you couldn't understand if that was teasing in his voice or warning or perhaps both.

“I-I got lost,” You admitted.

“Ohh, you walked in the park and turned off the path, didn't you?” And as you slightly nodded your head, he clicked his tongue in disapproval, “And that’s exactly how many go missing here and only be found in parts.” His fingers slid down your neck, his fingertips slightly tickled you. You concentrated more on his touch and his face so close to you, his dark brown eyes and these kissable lips, it was more important than the meaning of what he was saying. “Next time be more careful, dear. Forest isn't a proper promenade for a lady. Now let us lead you out of here!” His hand was already holding yours in a firm grasp and Alastor walked ahead.

“A-and why are you here?” You dared to ask. The rain suddenly poured harder, blurring everything ahead with a water wall. With his long legs Alastor was faster than you, and you had to run up after him, which was rather difficult due to slippery grass under your feet and soaked fabric of skirt that stuck to your legs,“C-could you, please, be slowlier?”

“Ah, I’m sorry, dear!” He slowed his pace though still pulled you forward. Your first question he either didn't hear or ignored. You hoped for first and repeated the question.

“Oh that's nothing surprising about this! My home isn't far from here.” He glanced at you, smirking and couldn't help noticing how attractive you were now all flushing, despite the cold weather, with your blouse soaked in the rain and messy hair. But you still looked nervous, you knew it was a thunderstorm and you were waiting for a loud thunder to grumble loudly in any second. You still looked like you were ready to burst into tears, and Alastor had swore you would only smile in his presence. Were there any chances for him to calm you down somehow?

“Are we going there?” You didn't know how these words slipped from your lips. A clap of thunder made you jump closer to Alastor, your palm squeezed his firmly. He felt it and looked down at you,

“And you would like to, cher?” That actually wasn't his intention, but he couldn't miss the opportunity to tease you a little, and he grinned wider when you blushed and lowered your gaze, just that lovely reaction Alastor was expecting and loved. Suddenly he thought why not? His house was in a stone's throw, and the park and your café or even your house was much, much farther. And he saw you were already shivering, obviously not in fear before the coming storm, but simply because of the cold. Though your cheeks were red, your lips were much paler than usual. Your thin cotton clothes soaked and the wind was cold, it was easy to fall ill seriously after such a stroll. Alstort stopped in the middle of a glade, where among the high pines loomed the silhouette of his house. He took your free hand in his. It was icy. Well, what was the sense of observing the decencies if it threatened your health? And moreover Alastor hated to stay in debt, he still hadn't repaid for your kindness that day you first met.

You tried to find words to apologise for your improper question, but his piercing look didn't let you concentrate, just as the grasp on your wrists. His serious gaze, as cold as this showerey rain, and his warm fingers on your frozen hands gave rise to more confusing feelings in you. You wanted to lean to his touch, to believe he could protect you from everything, but you were also afraid to make this step, and the lighting flashing above both of you only increased your worries. You didn't believe in signs, but such a deluge of rain didn't seed any hope into your heart. And also why hadn’t he come to the café that day and why was he in the woods now, obviously not on a hunt (he was unarmed). Just left the house? But why? The place where he found you seemed to far too walk.

Suddenly the sky turned into white, blinding you, and you flung yourself to Alastor, preparing to hear a deafening clap, and then thunder pealed with such force that it seemed the sky had cracked. You threw yourself to him so harshly, Alastor had to take a step back to keep his balance, and when the thunder clapped you huddled up to him more, burying your head in his chest. His hands pressed you to him closely, he felt your trembling and waited until the skies abated their anger.

You felt his hand going higher and stopped on your neck,

“Darling.” His words brushed the shell of your ear, and you looked up and tilted your head back. His gaze was soft and smile radiated warmth you wished to swallow. He didn't say anything else, leaned his face to you and covered your lips with his. A gentle, almost modest touch was enough to melt you in his hands, and you closed your eyes, enjoying the softness and warmth of his lips, his bitterish taste. You didn't notice how you lifted one of your legs as if you were ready to fly, oh you felt yourself flying in heaven, but Alastor saw this move, as the moment his lips met yours and he felt you giving to him, he opened his eyes. You felt him smiling against your lips and stood up on your toes, to be higher, to be closer to him. His tongue brushed your lower lip, testingly, and you parted your lips, letting him inside. He teasingly played with the tip of your muscle, it tickled and sent shivers down your spine, ignited something within your core. Next moment he bent you back, embracing you tightly, his hands curved around you, as he deepened the kiss, now bold and passionate.

Pourdown, wind, thunder, everything was long forgotten. Nothing was matter when Alalstor kissed you. There were only his arms, his lips and his tongue tangling with yours. It slid along your palate, brushed on and under your tongue, he explored every place of your mouth, tasted everything he could reach. And you were devine. He couldn't get enough, so he parted his lips from yours to crush them on you again, to capture your tongue one more time. He took more and more sips of your kisses as a starved, hoping he could slake his thirst, but desire only grew more with every gasp and moan he consumed.

You prolonged a moan, hands reaching to his neck to tap his shoulders, and Alastor parted his lips from you just slightly; a thin thread connected your lips, his eyes were dark with still unfulfilled desire. You panted heavily, being almost suffocating in this passion that took all the air from your lungs. His eyes lowered to your jaw and then neck, and his deep exhalation burnt your face. Only now you realised how firmly and close he was holding you, and that you were no longer standing on your own, with your feet on the ground, but leaning back into his arms, allowing him to be your support. His lips found your jaw and he showered your skin with quick kisses, going lower and lower. He wiped off every cold drop of rain on you with loud and wet kisses, and you felt even weaker in your knees.

“A-alstor…” You whispered, but he only answered with new deep kisses on the curve of your neck.

And when you felt you would swoon, his hands slid to your waist, lips left you. You felt your legs again, feet supported you, though you pressed your head to Alastor's chest, seeking for more prop. Alastor put his chin on the crown of your head, his hands squeezed your sides, the fabric of your clothes could be wrung out.

“Darling,” He breathed out. You heard that it was still pouring, though the wind calmed down, and the thunder sounded far away. “Darling. We're going home. My home.”

A shining smile was on your lips.

*. ⋆ ✧.·:·.* ☽ ･｡ﾟ･ ☾ *.·:·.✧ *. ⋆

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel fanfiction #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor fanfiction #human alastor #human alastor x you #human alastor x reader #human alastor fanfiction #hazbin hotel x you

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pit-and-the-pen · 7 months ago

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Your Love is Sunlight- Unrequited Love Pt.3

Whoops. Part 3 to Requited Love but could also be read as a stand-alone (I think I gave enough context to do that). This will be the last linear fic for this little series. But there will be more from this OC.

Let me know if you want to be added to the on-going taglist for this OC

Eris x Day Court! OC (Sunbeam)

Warnings: Suggestive language, heavy kissing. One singular dialogue line with misogyny. Eating (as always let me know if I'm missing anything)

Also I’m heavily messing around with canon/ lore for mating bonds here.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Pt. 2 Alt Ending]

WC: 3.7k

divider by @cafekitsune

The request came not even a week later. A week that I could not get the red head out of my thoughts. Eris was a perfect gentleman that night, only lightly chucking as he held my hips away from his after our heated kiss. We danced the rest of the night away until my shoes had worn painful blisters into my heel. And I would do it a million times over if I got to see that look in his eyes

Eris looked at me like he actually saw me. Like a was someone worth looking at. Not a second option. No, he looked at me the way no one ever had before and I was drunk off of it. The fire in his eyes was enough to make me want to sink to my knees right then and there. I had told him that much that night.

But instead, he went back to his court. The very court whose seal is on the envelope in my hands. The paper so dark red it was almost black. I opened it with shaky hands and scanned over the words, over and over. Written in loopy, beautiful cursive. The note was short and sweet

Sunbeam, it would be my honor to show you around the Autumn court. You’d be my personal guest.

I will be waiting for your reply.

Yours,

Eris

One little word made my heart skip a beat. YOURS. Something deep in my chest purred at the idea but I brushed it off to the side. Flirting is one thing but the idea of Eris ever truly wanting something like that with me seemed too good to be true. So I wrote back my enthusiastic yes and in a puff of smoke that left the room smelling faintly of cinnamon, the letter was gone. Returned back to the male that had written it.

I had never been to the Autumn Court before. My eyes tried to adjust to the beautiful reds, greens and yellows in hues I’d never seen outside of paintings. The cool breeze that seemed to whisper in my ear as it brushed past. Everything seemed alive as I heard the scurrying of animals on the leaf covered ground. When the air rose a few degrees, you already knew who was walking up to me. I greeted Eris with a tight hug. He was dressed in a handsome emerald green button down with gray slacks. His hair tied up out of his face unlike the other night at the ball. Those same golden rings littered his fingers. I blushed as I realized my eyes had been raking over him. If he had noticed, he didn’t say anything. Suddenly not knowing what to do with myself, I gave him an overdramatic curtsey raising my voice to stuff almost regal pitch.

“High Lord.” He quickly recovered from the confusion that washed over him. He smiled, catching on, before he bowed low

“Allow me the honor of showing you around.” He said as he extended an arm to me. His voice dripped with that same faux stuffiness. The two of you looked at each other, holding back laughter. I broke first. My laughter rang through the large forest at my back. His head was thrown back, blinding white teeth flashing. Once we had recovered, he held out his arm again. Voice back to normal. “I would still like to show you around.” I took his arm and the two of us walked around the manor that seemed to rise out of the forest.

AS he showed me around, he told me of the renovations that had recently taken place, pointed out the things that he still planned to change. The inside was just as breathtaking as the woods around the house. Rich colors and soft, plush fabrics filled the space with an unmistakable warmth. One that Eris had painstakingly tried to create.

“And this will be your room for your stay. I already had your things brought up and I had Tessa and Clover, two of my mothers maids, pick out some warmer clothes for you.” He gestured to the large armoire in the corner of the room. “If you need anything else please don’t hesitate to tell them or myself.” Thanks rushed out of my mouth as I gaped at the room.

My room at the day court had floor to ceiling windows that allowed for sun to streak through at all waking hours, marble and gold littered every surface possible. This room was cozy enough that I instantly felt my eyes get heavy. Dark wood paneling ran across the walls. Heavy curtains over the windows that had been pinned back displayed the colorful trees. And the bed.the bed. It was covered with the softest, plushest blankets I had ever seen. Pillows covered over half the bed and it made me want to do nothing but burrow into them and never leave that bed. My feet drifted on their own accord over to the bed, I reached out a hand and almost sighed at the feeling of the fabric against my fingers. Just as soft as they looked.

Eris’ content laugh pulled me out of my trance. I turned around to face him, he stood in the doorway still. “I’ll let you get settled. I can show you around more later today before dinner? If you want.” My heart fluttered at the idea, the thought of his court seeing us together. Of course, it was probably just to make sure I didn’t get lost in the maze that was the manor. At least that’s what I told myself, but as he took one more glance at me before he walked out of the room, I wasn't sure how much I believed that.

Although I had bathed earlier that day, the deep tub in my bathroom all but called my name. I sniffed random bottles of oils and poured in spicy, warm smells. The oils seemed to curl in the air and beckon me to sink deeper into the water. Completely submerging my head until I needed to come up for air. I sat in the bath until my skin started to prune. Groaning, I pulled myself from the soothing water and dried off. Wrapping the towel around myself, I padded over to the closet and ran a hand over all the clothes Eris had given me. The closet was full of jewel tones and deep reds. Floor length dresses that were heavy enough to keep out the nip of the air at night but light enough to walk around in during the day. I picked an emerald long sleeve dress and blushed at the realization that Eris and I would be matching. Before I could lose my nerve, I pulled the dress over my shoulder. The front buttoned up all the way to the ground. The waist tucked in slightly flaring out around my hips. It felt amazing against my skin and fit like a glove.

A knock at the door pulled my eyes from my reflection in the mirror. My hair was still wet from the bath and small waves were starting to form at the ends. Eris opened the door and stilled as he took me in. I felt like I was a thousand feet under his heavy gaze. He looked down at his own shirt for a second before he looked at me again.

“Autumn court is a good look for you, Sunbeam.” My whole body flushed at the compliment and I hummed in agreement. A small yip from the hallway split my focus. A small furry face pushed through his legs, almost toppling the High Lord. “Azelia” he whistled, the hound stilled for a second before prancing over to me. She sniffed at my skirt before she sat at my feet, giving me her full attention. I reached down to pet her and she rolled over onto her back. I laughed at the twitch in her tail as I ran a hand over her stomach. Eris whistled one more time and she barked back before flipping back over and walked to sit at his feet in a similar manner. I giggled at the exhausted look he shot the dog. She only barked in her own form of laughter.

Eris and I walked along a river by the house. He helped me pick out the perfect stones for skipping across the water. Coming up behind me to make sure my arm had the perfect flick to make it sail over the surface. I wasn’t nearly as good as he was, even with his help. Something he pointed out with a smirk. I pushed him lightly and he clutched at his chest like I had mortally wounded him. Crouching down onto both knees. I walked closer to him.

“Oh please, Eris ge-” My words were replaced with a yelp as he wrapped his arms around my legs and pulled me over his shoulder. I could only laugh my head off as I pounded at his back. Demanding he put me down. When he did, I felt the tree against my back.

“Have I told you how beautiful you sound when you laugh?” I blushed and shook my head.

“It can’t be that special. No one has ever said that before.” He knew who I was speaking about and he pulled my chin up to look him in the eyes

“I wish I could offer the usual sentiment of killing the male that ever made you feel this way but that would complicate things as a high lord,” he winked at me. I felt my shoulders loosening at the humor in his voice. “But you say the word and I will.” He picked up a lock of my hair and twirled it around his finger. “You’re radiant and anyone who has ever made you feel otherwise is either blind or dumb or both.”

We had leaned in so close to one another that I could count the freckles on the bridge of his nose. Someday I hoped he would let me kiss each and every single one of them. My eyes flickered down to his lips and he was smirking as he followed my eye line.

“Is there something you want, Sunbeam?” The little shit. It’s like my words had evaporated completely. Brain went fuzzy as his smell wrapped around me. I could do nothing but whimper. He made no other remark, only used his hand already in my hair to grip the back of my head. He growled as he smashed his lips to mine. This was nothing like the kiss from the ball. That had been exploratory and warm. This was an all consuming inferno. Burning through every ounce of self doubt I harbored. Scorching through my veins until only Eris was left. His free hand wrapped around my waist and pressed me against every delicious inch of him. When I started undoing the buttons of his shirt, he still his lips. His hand went to rest over mine and I reluctantly pulled away from him. I tried not to show the hurt on my face. And he leaned in to whisper in my ear.

“The first time I'm inside of you will not be outside. Nor when we're rushed. I need time to make you scream my name. For all of Priyanth to hear that you’re mine.” Something more than hunger flashed in his eyes and I felt that look deep in me.

“Eris.” I gasped out. He brushed a soft hand down the side of my face.

“You can’t say my name like that sweetheart, not when I have to sit at dinner with the rest of my court in less than an hour.” I blushed at the meaning behind his words and tried, and failed, to not look down to the front of his pants. The evidence behind his words. My tongue ran across my lips at the sight. He groaned and stepped away from me.

“You are a bad influence. But I meant what I said.” He booped my nose with his pointer finger, “ Now please go get ready for dinner.” His hand lingered on my arm for a fraction longer before he reluctantly let go.

I got dressed in a daze. A wild blush would not leave my cheeks. Everytime I managed to push away my errant thoughts, more would seep back into my mind.

Before I knew it, I had changed into a new dress and was walking side by side with Eris down to the dining room. A few members of his court were already there, talking amongst themselves. They smiled up at him as we passed. As I sat down next to him they introduced themselves in kind tones. I nodded trying to keep up with their names and faces. More people started to come in and eventually all the places at the table were filled.

There was no big speech or ceremony to start dinner. Everyone ate at the pace that they wanted to and cups of wine were being poured and shared.

A deep voice of an older male pulled me from my conversation with the female,Fern I think was her name, next to me.

“I’m still trying to figure you out.” He stated plainly.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you hung around Rhysand and his cronies. Came crawling back to Day where Helion welcomed you with open arms,” I felt the room grow hotter. “So I’m simply wondering how to get you in my bed too.” One second the male had been sitting at the table and before I could even blink, he had been blasted across the room. He sat up, eyes unfocused as he put a hand to his head. All eyes turned from the male now lying on the floor to the High Lord who was picking at non-existent dirt under his nails.

“You will not speak to any female, especially guests, like that in this court. Ever. Again.” He hardly looked up at male before he evenly said, “You’re dismissed.” Two of the other members of the court scurried to his side and helped heave him to his feet. Quickly getting him out of the room.

“I’m sorry you all had to see that. There are many things I will tolerate but comments like that are not one of them.” Eris said to those remaining from his court. All of them nodded along, not fear but appreciation in their eyes. I felt my heart soften at his words. Beron would have let a comment like that slide, maybe even agreed with it. It would take a while, old habits run deep but Eris would squash that old cruelty out of the Autumn court piece by piece. The thin line of determination in his face told me that much. He turned his attention to me “Are you all right?” He quietly asked me. The sound of silverware clinking against plates and light conversations filled the silence from moments ago. I nodded.

“You didn’t have to do that, you know? It’s nothing I haven’t heard before.” His mouth set into an unamused look, anger pinching his eyebrows.

“Sunbeam, I will not allow anyone to talk to…” he took a breath, about to say something but seemingly changed his mind. “I would do it again.” I knew he was telling the truth and thanked him for his kind words.

The next few days passed too quickly. I spent the days in Eris’ presence, him waving me off when I apologized for keeping him from his duties. He assured me that making me feel as welcome as possible was a hundred percent part of his responsibilities. Both as a High Lord and a friend. Friend. I bristled at the word. Only a few more heated moments had passed throughout the days, and nothing like that night before dinner. I was wound tight and from the way his eyes kept flickering to my lips, I knew he was too. Everytime I would go to take things further, he would steal my hands or push away from me entirely. That same excuse said through gritted teeth. I didn't question it. If it happened it happened but being around him so much made it harder and harder to keep my thoughts at bay.

This was one of those moments. I was supposed to leave the next morning and my hands were currently wrapped in Eris’ hair. My back pressed firmly against the door of his room. He peppered my neck with small bites that had my blood singing for him. I didn’t reach for his shirt this time, despite the need rushing through me. I instead went to the buttons on the front of my dress. Eris all but growled, “Gods you’ll be the death of me.” He groaned into my neck. I used my grip in his hair to pull his face back to mine.

“Do you want me to?” I asked, suddenly feeling self conscious.

“I would want nothing more darling but if you do, you won’t leave my bed in the morning.” He went back to kissing my neck and as he found that sweet spot right below my ear, I let the argument die on my tongue. If this was all I got from him, I would gladly take it. Regardless of how much more I wanted.

I woke up in the morning with my lips still swollen from the rough kisses the night before. I didn’t need to look at my neck to know the angry red marks that would be faded by the time I left. I sighed at the thought and curled deeper to my blankets. Shutting out the thoughts of leaving and the heaviness that creeped into my bones.

Eris and I spent the day with his hounds. We walked around the forest, me chasing after them as he hung back, throwing sticks after them. We laughed until our lungs hurt and his pack walked between us with ease, slipping in and out between our legs like they had been doing it all their lives.

It was finally time for me to leave. Helion was about to come to winnow me back to the Day Court. My bags had already been sent back. And I felt the disappointment on my face as he gave me one short kiss goodbye. As he pulled away from me it felt like the ground was being pulled from under me.

“Eris.” I called to his retreating form. When his eyes met mine it was like the air had been knocked out of my lungs. It shouldn’t be possible. I felt tears well up in my eyes. This could not be happening again. I had lost this chance when my bond with Azriel had been severed. Or had I? No one had ever gone as far as I had before. I didn’t just reject the bond. Helion had pulled it from my body, completely erased it for the both of us. Did that mean I got another chance? A small voice in the back of my head remembered those dreaded words. Maybe the cauldron gets it wrong. Could this be the cauldron making it right? Looking into those amber eyes, it felt right. In fact, nothing had ever felt so right before in my life. It was never like this with Azriel. He never loved me, was never going to love me. But Eris. Eris, who was always kind to me. Eris, who always greeted me first when he visited my old court during Hlyberns reign. It all made sense now. Everything had played out for this exact moment. I took a sharp inhale as I reached out through the bond, expecting that all too familiar coldness I had been greeted with all those years ago.

Eris’ eyes snapped to mine as his body jolted. His mouth parted, words seeming to fail him. The other side of the bond was not in fact empty. But full of warmth and love. Love for me. We could do nothing but gape at each other as that thread, as golden as the leaves around us, grew thicker as it stretched between us.

Tears welled in my eyes at the feeling. So much comfort and love running down the bond it almost pulled me to my knees. We both stumbled forward until our arms were wrapped around each other.

“I was so worried you would never feel it.” Eris spoke into the crown of my head.

“When…”

“The moment I saw you at the ball. The first time I saw you after you cut your bond with him.” I squeezed him as tight as my arms would allow. “I didn’t know the depth of the magic Helion had used on you, I went to talk to him after to see if it was even possible and reading that book further, we realized it was.” I pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes. The sun reflecting off of them made them honey brown. He smiled at whatever emotion I accidentally sent down the bond.

“I’m happy it’s you Eris.” He looked shocked. “If I had to go through all of this for it to be you, then it was worth it. Every second of it.” Tears of his own trailed down his face and I placed my head against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. “Don’t go. Stay here with me.” His voice reverberated deep in his chest. “You don’t have to make any decisions right now. But stay here, let me do this the right way. The way you deserved the first time.” I could do nothing but blush and nod. My throat felt tight at all the feelings, mine and his. A breathtaking smile I had only seen him give me split across his face. My feet suddenly no longer on the ground as he picked me up. My skirt billowed out around me as he swung me lightly around, like he had on the dance floor that night. I squealed in delight and buried my face into his shoulder. Inhaling his deep earth and cinnamon scent and thanked the cauldron that it didn’t always get it right. The first time.

Copying over the people I tagged in the last one! I promise this is the last one I'll tag yall in unless you ask

@cleverzonkwombatsludge @myromanempiree @starsandsins @melmo567 @saltedcoffeescotch @daycourtofficial @anainkandpaper @leyannrae

#acomaf #acosf #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acowar #unrequited love #eris vanserra #eris x reader #eris x oc #eris acotar #eris fluff #eris vandaddy #autumn court #a court of thorns and roses #sunbeam oc #mate!eris #high lord eris

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achaotichuman · 3 months ago

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Fanfiction Rec Masterlist

This is my personal list of fanfiction recommendations. It's easy to get lost in the abyss of mindless, droning hate, and Pro-IC content in this fandom, and this is a safe space away from all of that.

All of these fics are free of Tamlin hate, and all of them are utterly beautiful, well-written and I love them.

Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra

A Court of Threads and Daises by @shi-daisy

Tragedy almost struck the Spring Court when Tamlin Evergreen tried to take his own life. Lucien Vanserra manages to save his former Lord, but not his power.

Now that the Spring Court has a new High Lord and the horrors of war are behind them, both Tamlin and Lucien agree to help the new heir navigate court life and attempt to rebuild the broken Spring Court, along with healing themselves.

They weren't expecting to fall back in love in the process.

A Second Chance by @goforth-ladymidnight

Modern ACOTAR AU – There is a reason that Tamlin disappeared from Lucien's life seven years ago. Lucien just doesn't know what it is. They were more than college roommates; they were best friends. Now, a chance encounter in a bookstore leaves both of them wondering if they can pick up where they left off. A new year is right around the corner, but there is no wiping Tamlin's slate clean. Featuring Jurian and Vassa in supporting roles, this is not a story of redemption, but of finding love—and forgiveness—in the most unlikely of places.

Lovely and Lonely by @praetorqueenreyna

"In hindsight, Lucien thinks he fell in love with Tamlin the moment he first laid eyes on him."

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

Lucien Vanserra must come to terms with his sexuality, and his complicated feelings for High Lord Tamlin.

A Court of Choices Made by Anonymous

Lucien decides to go after Tamlin to pick a fight after his first Winter Solstice with the Night Court.

I see red, I see nothing by AngryRamen

Lucien travels to Amarantha’s domain to try and bid for peace between her and the courts of Prythian. It doesn’t go well.

Still Beautiful, Still Mine by @goforth-ladymidnight

\Vanserra. ACOTAR AU - In the weeks following his visit to Amarantha’s Court Under the Mountain, Lucien is still recovering from the loss of his eye. Nuan has made him a replacement out of gold, but the scars on his face are there to stay. When Tamlin comes to see him, Lucien cannot help but relive the events that brought them to this point, if only he could focus on what's standing right in front of him...

A Sunbeam Shining Bright Into the Night by @nocasdatsgay

After the Great Rite ritual is completed, Tamlin always goes back to the Manor to see if Lucien is waiting for him. This year he is.

Forbidden by @nocasdatsgay

Calanmai has come once again, but Tamlin isn’t focused on the females waiting for him.

Breezing on by Sprighnt (SliPuP_Slit)

His focus was shattered when Feyre dropped onto the bench next to him with a dramatic sigh, “You won’t even say hi after you ditched us last week?”

Lucien rolled his eyes at her antics, “I didn’t ditch you, I was studying for math. The exam of a subject that I need days to prepare for, remember? I didn’t think you’d even notice me gone, what with all the ogling that takes up your time in our practices.”

“Shut up!” She shushed him, glancing around wildly for any eavesdroppers, “what if he heard you?”

——— Lucien has settled into a routine now. He’s finally able to go back to competing after an accident that had him wondering if he’d ever be able to skate competitively again, he’s out of his hellish childhood home, and has friends that make him happy.

By the Fountain by Sprighnt_(SliPuP_Slit)

Tamlin is tired of stuffy dinner parties, luckily, he has his best friend, Lucien, to make things more interesting.

———

Tamlin took the time to look at Lucien, who was staring at an elegant fountain nearby. He examined the dip of his nose, the scrunch of his brows, the slight part of his lips that indicated he was contemplating something. Then Lucien’s mouth set in a firm line, meaning he’d made up his mind on whatever the issue was.

Lucien glanced back at him and Tamlin startled at being caught watching. He placed his hand gently on Tamlin’s arm, “I don’t think my father will plan one for me either.”

New Springs by Sprighnt_(SliPuP_Slit)

“I can’t be here for as long as you,” she clarifies, gesturing to the forest around them.

“You’re leaving?”

She shrugs, “It’s nice here, but my sisters, my father, they’re my only family. Even if they’re, a little difficult at times, and I don’t want to hurt Tam. I was really in love with him, but, to put it plainly, I’m not like you.”

“Like me,” Lucien repeats, confused, “what do you mean?”

———

In another universe, an alternate timeline, Feyre says “I love you”, before she’s sent off and therefore breaks the curse the way it was supposed to be broken. Things are different.

absolution by @praetorqueenreyna

Things didn't work out between Feyre and Tamlin. Years later, they both find love in unexpected places

Beauteous Evening, Calm and Free by franklinarchive. Tamlin/Lucien Vanserra.

Tamlin heals and then he moves on.

Or, what if Sarah J. Maas hadn’t committed ‘character assassination’ against Tamlin?

When The Sun Came Up (I Was Looking At You) by pansexual_intellectual .

There was a slight choking sound from the Night Court side of the room, but when you looked, Lucien was expressionless, adjusting his doublet.

It was the worst idea you had ever had. In the shreds of your manor you dropped to your knees. He was gone in the morning, as you knew he would be.

a bridge between us by @yaralulu

“In less than a year, they’d already lost so many people, and yet they had to send another sentry beyond the wall today. And as they left, so did Tamlin. He’d once again left Lucien to tend to his wounds, and deal with his upcoming grief all his on own. He’d once again left Lucien alone in the manor, sorrowful and bitter and bubbling with worry he could no longer contain.

It’s why the sound of Tamlin winnowing back filled Lucien with relief like no other. Like releasing a breath he’d been holding for too long. Tamlin being home made Lucien feel like he could breathe again. No matter how hurt Lucien was by Tamlin, he’d always find himself standing outside his office, his need to see Tamlin overriding his common sense.”

Amidst the ruins of their fractured relationship, Lucien and Tamlin grasp for the fragile threads that once bound them together, desperately seeking solace in each other as they battle the curse placed upon Spring.

The Fox and The Hound by @samhatch

Every Fire Night since Lucien joined Spring Court, Tamlin has always sought him out to help release the last of the spirits that possessed him. But now that he's mated with Feyre, Tamlin won't need Lucien's help anymore... Or will he? ********************************************************** “I thought you wouldn’t come.” I admitted. I tried to keep my heart from beating too quickly, knowing his heightened senses could hear it. He said nothing in reply, and walked slowly toward me. As gently as the morning dew, he pressed his lips to mine, but I could feel the hunger behind it barely kept at bay. His scent filled my nose, trampled moss and lilac. “What about Feyre?” I asked. “She’s asleep,” he said as he crawled into my bed.

Violated by @sonics-atelier

Headcannon : Tamlin wakes up and when he sees Luciens red hair he's reminded of his experiences with Amarantha .

Serenading by @sonics-atelier

Summary : Traditions dictate that the High Lord must serenade the fae they wish to woo as a partner for Calanmai.

Tamlin/Rhysand

Wildflower by @mathiwrites.

Five hundred years before Feyre’s arrival in Prythian, the humans fought against Faeries, led by the King of Hybern, for their Freedom. Tamlin is only seven years old when the war begins, but his family’s involvement and a fated friendship with a handsome young Lord from the Night Court will change his life forever. This is the story of how he becomes the High Lord you know and love, and the redemption story nobody asked for.

TL;DR - before they were enemies, they touched butts.

A strange thing happened the night of the High Lord meeting by @umthisistheonlyusernamenottaken.

Tamlin shook his head, a small smile on his full lips. “You forget that we were closer than friends once. I know your face. Even when you think you’re being so clever, hiding behind that mask of impassivity, I see you.”

He snarled, even as his heart began to beat faster as the other male approached him.

“You think I didn’t see you? You couldn’t stop looking at me during that meeting.” He took another step closer, and his next words were tinged with playfulness, a hint of the Tamlin he’d used to know.

“Were you thinking of that night too?”

He froze. “What?”

In the Eyes of My Beloved by Alynaw66.

I promise, Rhysand sighs into his mouth; Then down onto the slight curve between his neck and shoulder. Tamlin shivers, feeling dazed. Overwhelmed.

“Another offer,” he begins, one hand sliding down to grip Tamlin’s narrow waist.

(Also fun fact about this fic, I was brought to Tumblr because of a link in the notes, so without this fiction I wouldn't be here)

Stay or Go? by SoulOfStars.

Both of their families are dead. Rhysand decides to stay. They fuck in the second chapter.

Burning Batter by Sprighnt_(SliPuP_Slit).

Rhysand comes over to make cupcakes with Tamlin for Feyre’s upcoming New Year’s party.

A Court of Lies and Resurrection by @ashintheairlikesnow.

AU: Feyre is dead, torn apart by Amarantha when Tamlin did not send her away in time. Tamlin, forced to submit to Amarantha's terms, finds himself looking for help (and finding affection) in places he never expected, while Lucien allies with an ancient enemy (and one of Rhys's closest friends) to save him. WARNING Extensive explicit adult content, sexual situations, violence, MA

Colors in a Dead Garden by @fourteentrout.

"It is not just an ancient enchantment that they’re dealing with, it is not just an incompetent, broken High Lord that never even asked for his position. It is the fall of the Spring Court."

With the fate of the mortal lands--and possibly the rest of Prythian--at stake, Rhysand has to confront the Court that has caused so much of his pain and suffering. The male whose claws have sunk into Rhysand's life time and time again over the centuries.

For Prythian, Rhysand finds that he has to reckon with parts of himself and his past that he's been burying for hundreds of years, and find the cure to a curse from another time in the process.

The Solution by @fourteentrout.

Nyx attends his first formal Courtly event as a grown Faerie. Well, as grown as a nineteen year old can be. His parents' past with their host remains shrouded in mystery, and Nyx finds that he develops a somewhat unruly attraction to the High Lord of the Spring Court.

It does not go how he expected it to.

AKA Nyx is unbearably horny and nothing works out in his favor. Tamlin, on the other hand...

no one left to grieve by @praetorqueenreyna.

A month after the tragedy that made both him and Tamlin High Lords, Rhysand returns to the Spring Court to finish the job.

***********

For Tamlin Week, Day 1: Heir of Spring

To have, to hold by @flowerflamestars.

“You picked the wrong one,” Tamlin laughed.

you up? by @praetorqueenreyna.

Tamlin accidentally texts a "personal" picture to Rhysand

Nighttime in Spring by star_stealing_girl.

A longing was in Tamlin’s green eyes, and his fingers twirled in the dark strands of Rhys’s hair. Rhys wondered if he, too, was remembering that magical Calanmai, so long ago that it was like a dream. Rhys seemed to feel the pulse of the drums in every beat of his heart. The singing and carousing was like a chant in his blood.

***

Rhys tries to convince Tamlin to participate in Calanmai this year, and the music and magic awaken old memories. Will it awaken a renewed desire between the two old friends? This fic is set a few years after the events of ACOSF, and is a short romance between Rhys and Tamlin.

Lay Me on the Cold Dark Earth by @witch-and-her-witcher

Maybe the whiskey had been spiked. Maybe Tamlin was hallucinating on faerie dust right now and Rhys wasn't actually asking what he thought he was.

Rhys snarled with the darkness of his powers behind it.

Tamlin snarled right back, the beast instinctually roaring beneath his too-tight skin.

"I'm asking for that," Rhys said, unrelenting. "I want you to unleash that beast begging to stretch its legs."

Darling by @lifeisabiscuit

A different view of what could have happened when Rhysand visited Tamlin in fas.

Nyx/Tamlin

A Court of Chaos and Darkness by @witch-and-her-witcher.

Fate isn't done screwing with Tamlin's life, but this time the collateral is his ex-lovers son.

The heir of the Night Court knows something is wrong with him that his family won't tell him and Nyx is ready to come out of the dark.

Cosmogeny by @highlordofkrypton

The world is in ruins. Humans and Faeries pick at each other’s teeth until the bone is whittled from flesh and all that is left is blood in their wake. They had been created equal, once. To think, they’d all fall prey to their own hubris. This is not what the Goddesses wanted. To Prythian, they are sending scouts to decide whether their world is worth saving, or whether it should be devoured and remade anew.

This is a dark fantasy, eldritch horror fic that may end up being unserious more often than not.

Tamlin/Eris Vanserra

The longest Day of the Week by Yooijo.

Now, Eris grew up in what could only be described as a heteronormative society. And while he had his fair share of escapades, he tended to follow the rules and stick to tits and slits, with the occasional fumble between friends where he put the emphasis on being fumbled with and never touching another man’s dick.

So, instead of mauling Tamlin’s junk with his teeth, he sat there, stiff like a board in every aspect, eating his soup and looking at Tamlin like he wanted to burn the world and dance naked on the ashes.

///

What Eris and Tamlin are up to after the evil, very bad, not good king of Hybern is defeated.

heaven sent a hurricane by @praetorqueenreyna. Vanserra. After his family is killed and he is crowned High Lord, Tamlin struggles to keep his Court under his control. (Un)Luckily for him, Eris Vanserra steps in to help.

Tamlin/Tarquin

A Court of Beasts and Chances by M4r0u_Mar.

About a Beast who must be prince and a Prince who wants to be beast. About a Prince who learns of second chances and a Beast who learns of redemption. About looking for love and finding it in the journey rather than the destination.

Or the one where I rewrite ACOTAR to make Tamlin and Tarquin mates.

Tamlin/Feyre Archeron

The Gown by @goforth-ladymidnight

"I really, truly hated my wedding gown. It was a monstrosity of tulle and chiffon and gossamer, so unlike the loose gowns I usually wore: the bodice fitted, the neckline curved to plump my breasts, and the skirts… The skirts were a sparkling tent, practically floating in the balmy spring air." ~ A Court of Mist and Fury by Sarah J. Maas

A somewhat canon-compliant look at what Tamlin might have said or done when he sees Feyre in "The Dress" for the very first time. Inspired by a prompt on Tumblr.

Nesta Archeron/Tamlin

A House of Flame and Flower by Mellowenglishgal.

“Spare me the self-righteous lecturing, Feyre. You and your new family believe yourselves superior: that anyone who is not deemed worthy by you must bow or be eliminated. I refuse to bow to those I do not respect: and I owe none of you any such obligation. Nor am I obligated to remain where my autonomy is threatened,” Nesta sighed, gentle yet commanding, her voice low and steady and unyielding. “I renounce all ties to the Night Court. From now on, you are no longer my sister.”

“Where will you go?” Feyre snapped, but Nesta saw it: the sudden realisation that Nesta meant every word.

“That is no longer your business. Goodbye, Feyre,” Nesta said softly. She rose to her feet, elegant as an empress despite her unkempt clothing. As she stared down her youngest sister, Nesta caressed the delicious power shimmering like slumbering embers deep in her heart, until her veins sang with silver fire, pure light, blistering heat, deadly yet silent.

Flame was silent: everything it met shattered and snapped, disintegrating, unable to withstand it.

She was flame. She was undiluted, unrefined, unapologetic power.

She told Feyre, “You will not hear from me again.”

Nesta Archeron/Eris Vanserra

A Court of Blaze & Sorrow by @shi-daisy

(Sequel to A Court of Threads & Daisies)

Nesta Acheron had known from early childhood she'd be wearing a mask. She thought she'd wear it for the rest of her life. Until she tore it off on the eve of her wedding. Intending to stop Rhysand's plans to become High King, she takes to the Autumn Court, where she finds more that she bargained for with the Vanserra family. Particularly Eris Vanserra.

Eris wore his mask to keep everything and everyone in place hoping that one day he'd inherit the Autumn Court from his cruel father and changed it for the better. He didn't know fate had diffrent plans for him when Lady Nesta Acheron sought him out to end Rhysand's tyranny.

Free from Night's grasp the pair must navigate Court life, family drama and romance, hoping to mend both their lives and hearts.\

With a Sense of Poise and Rationality by @kateprincessofbluewhales

Nesta finds herself, yet again, with her life turned upside down on her and Cassian's wedding day. One shot exapanded!

Other

In This Peace Series by @trshtffc, the first fiction in the series is completed The Sorceress . Tamlin/Original Female Character.

Seven years after ACOWAR, Spring Court is struggling to keep from falling apart completely. A mother tries to move on and keep her daughter safe in this chaotic world, but when the young female most needs a friend, she'll give the disgraced High Lord a chance to attone for the pain he has caused, and, perhaps, to finally heal.

TW for - mentions of suicidal thoughts - mentions of loss of a pregnancy - mentions of sexual abuse - mentions of emotional abuse (toxic relationships and toxic family dinamics) - colourism - LGBT+phobia

Needle & King by @highlordofkrypton. Rhysand's father/Rhysand's mother.

Before A Court of Thorns and Roses and before Wildflowers, Needle & King is a story of survival and of love. We all know how it ends for Rhysand's mother and his father, but how did it all begin?

***

Everyone feel free to add to this!!!

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tookhimtomypenthouse · 1 year ago

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Hate Yourself - Chapter Two

series warnings: female!reader x oliver quick, past/implied felix x oliver, dub-con, stalker behavior, voyeurism, degradation, dacryphilia, bloodplay, gaslighting, manipulation, untagged story elements (the warnings aren't exhaustive!), DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT bbgirl

summary: you’re hired as a maid after Oliver comes to own Saltburn, and find your employer to be very invested in your work

minors dni!

Lyuba had left this morning. She hugged you tightly before stepping into her cab, much to your surprise. The normally stern woman was unexpectedly tender with you that morning.

“Take care, zayka,” she whispered as she held you. “Don’t let this house devour you,” she added before pulling away and walking to her cab.

You shiver at the thought, her words chilling. You try to ignore the eeriness of her warning as you dust the study. Dusting was gentle work and a welcome reprieve from scrubbing and scouring the other rooms. Plumes of dust kicked up by your duster shimmer in the late afternoon sunbeams, and you catch yourself watching them float around. The study is full of dusty spots – tall bookshelves, busts of important men, and an overstuffed upholstered chair. Your focus is on the chair when you look up to see one of the many hanging frames of art.

Unlike most art decorating Saltburn, the frame doesn’t hold a stuffy oil painting of a king or lord. Instead, a sketch of a handsome young man looks back. His soft eyes and nonchalant pose invite you in. His clothes seem modern, his messy hair unfussy and tousled. The strokes of charcoal are loose and messy, giving the impression the subject wasn’t as buttoned-up as the rest. Who might he be? In the corner was the artist’s signature, a delicate cursive EC. You search around the perimeter of the sketch for a name, but there’s nothing else. Only the kind, mysterious face.

“Keep your secret, then,” you fake pout to the sketch. You’re pulled out of your examination by clicking footsteps from the hallway. You keep at your dusting, but you hear someone come into the study and rifle through the stack of papers on the desk. Turning your head, you see Oliver sit down and shuffle through a few documents, concentrating deeply on his task. Plucking up some unknown courage, you decided to soothe your burning curiosity.

“Pardon me, sir,” you start, faltering a bit as his eyes connect with yours, “but do you know who this is?”

Oliver pauses as his attention moves to the frame. A sad smile ghosts over his mouth. “Ah,” he says gently. “That would be Felix Catton.” He returns to his task at the desk, but he seems distracted.

“D-do you know him?” You ask, curiosity piquing at his visible reaction.

“I did,” he starts, stepping back from the desk and approaching the picture. “We were…mates.” He’s close now, close enough that your shoulders touch. “Met at Oxford.”

You feel your brows furrow. He’s not giving enough detail for your tastes. “How did he get a picture on the wall if he’s just a mate? There must be more to it than that.” You try and meet his eye, but he is fixated on the image.

“His family owned this place. He invited me to stay for a summer back when we were in university and died at the birthday party they threw for me here. In the maze.” He angles his head back to you, an unreadable expression on his features.

“Oh,” you mumble, “I’m so sorry.” An uncomfortable silence envelops you for a moment. You remember Lyuba’s clipped warning in the bathroom, and you aren’t sure how to react.

“The rest of his family followed,” he finally offers, “so his mother left me Saltburn when she passed.” The revelation surprises you, but it makes sense. You had never seen his surname in the numerous journals, paintings, or statues that graced the halls. It seems odd that an Oxford pal came to own this massive estate. Then again, you’re just a maid. Rich people do crazy things like give away houses to friends, right? Maybe people like Lyuba and you could never understand. The few precious things you own you guard fiercely, but finery probably doesn’t seem as precious when you’re constantly surrounded by it. You can understand the grief on his face, though. His prolonged, desperate look at the drawing makes your chest twinge with sadness.

“Wow,” you whisper. “You must miss him terribly.” The weight of his gaze rests squarely on you. His presence feels suffocatingly close, especially because everyone else has so far made themselves scarce. You haven’t had someone so near to you since Lyuba left. You fight the urge to lean in even closer.

“Sometimes,” he admits. He lingers next to you for a moment longer before stepping back to the desk and grabbing a sheet of paper. You shake your head quickly and return to dusting, hearing his footsteps move out the door and down the hallway. You give the picture of Felix one last glance before busying yourself with the rest of the room.

Hands on your hips, you survey the pristine room. You feel a sense of satisfaction, having made it through your to-do list earlier than anticipated. Making your way back to your room, you decide to reward yourself with a soak in the bathtub. A hot bath. The thought alone is enough to bring a dreamy smile to your lips. The days of work haven’t been too exhausting, but your muscles are sore from adjusting to the workload.

Reaching your room, you rifle through your drawers. Grabbing out your pajamas and socks, you move on to the underwear drawer.

That’s…strange.

You rifle through the contents frantically. Where did they all go? You know you brought more than this. Only a few pairs are left. You shake your head, trying to be rational. They’re just in another drawer, you tell yourself. Hands shaking slightly, you paw through all the drawers in your dresser. By the final one, your breathing comes in raggedly, and your vision blurs with tears.

“What the fuck?” You feel sick to your stomach. Who had been in your room? Suddenly, you feel very vulnerable, too exposed. You rush to the door and try to lock it. The handle jiggles uselessly. A sob breaks from your throat as you sink to the ground. Everything feels like too much.

You miss home, your shoebox room with the ugly brown shag carpet and the tiny window to nowhere. You miss your mother, the twins, your friends. It’s so lonely here. Everyone keeps their distance, and now the one sanctuary you have to yourself feels tainted. Unsafe. If you could go back home, you would.

But you couldn’t. Well, wouldn’t. The private school the twins attend has steep fees, and Mum’s cashier job isn’t cutting it. You think she has enough to worry about as tears flow down your face freely.

“Pull it together,” you choke out to yourself. It was probably a cruel prank, hazing the new girl. You won’t let them send you back home with your tail between your legs. You’d give your siblings a shot at a life beyond the dreary little town you grew up in. They wouldn’t have to clean other people’s houses if you had any say. Peeling yourself off the ground, you resolved to take your bath. Fuck it, you weren’t going to give up so easily. You could take the silent treatment and other nonsense if it meant a future for them.

Clutching your things, you walk to the bathtub and run the water. You can’t help but feel the hair on the back of your neck stand up, but ignore the feeling. I’m just overthinking, it’s fine. You slip out of your work dress and slide into the steamy bath. You bring your head underneath the water, heat soothing your puffy and tearstained face. You weren’t going to let this place break you.

It’s too bad the person peering through the bathroom keyhole would disagree.

You sleep terribly.

The broken lock and missing panties have rattled you despite your best efforts. You spend your nights watching the door, muscles twitching in anticipation of a confrontation that never comes. Each morning, an increasingly wan face stares back at you in the mirror.

You decide to do something about it. Your distant coworkers have offered you nothing but wary glances and clipped responses the whole time you’ve been here, so you feel certain it had to be one of them. A good boss would want his employees to feel comfortable here, so you make it your mission to bring it up with Oliver once you finish your tasks for the day.

You wander the house looking for him, nervously popping your head into every room. You don’t think he has business outside the house today, so you get increasingly worked up with each empty room. When you end up back in the foyer with no sign of him, you stomp out into the garden. It’s dark and chilly out, but you can’t even care. You just want somewhere private to scream. The maze beckons you. You’ve never had a chance to go inside, so you trudge right inside it.

The twists and turns are dark and disorienting. You feel your anger ebb away into fear as you make your way deeper. The cold nips at you, but you press on. How much time has even passed here? You’re tempted to turn around and try and find the exit when you see a clearing. You press onward, unsure of what lies ahead. You notice a huge statue, its form monstrous but somewhat amorphous to you in the darkness of the night. It looms menacingly over the space, filling you with dread.

You hear rustling and nearly jump out of your skin when you realize you aren’t alone.

“W-who is it?” You call out, voice trembling. You cast your eyes around and see a man’s form in the corner.

“It’s just me,” comes the response, and you almost sigh with relief at the sound of Oliver’s voice. You sheepishly walk to him, relaxing at the edge of the clearing. “Are you alright, love?” He peers up at you with concern.

You try to clear your throat and give a nonchalant response, but your voice comes out brittle and pinched. “Of course,” you rasp out, faltering. You don’t even realize the tears are coming out until Oliver hops to his feet and gently swipes his thumb over your cheek. The unexpectedly tender gesture has all of your exhaustion and worries pouring out.

“Hey,” he breathes, gently cupping your face.

“I’m sorry,” you sob, crying into his hands. “I haven’t been well. Someone broke my lock, a-and stole my clothes, and-“

“Woah, woah, woah, it’s okay,” he soothes, stepping in close and wiping your face. “Someone stole from you?”

“Y-yeah,” you reply.

“I’ll get the door fixed, yeah? And replace what got taken.”

“Really?” you ask, a spark of hope returning to you.

“Of course, I hate to see such a pretty girl upset,” he answers, stroking your hair. He gives you a gentle smile, and you can’t help but give him a teary smile in response. “Now, run along inside. It’s cold out here.”

“Okay,” you mumble, sniffing and drying off the last of your tears. You turn back to the entrance and walk slowly, mulling over his words. Maybe somebody does care about you here.

“Get some rest, please,” he calls after you. “I can’t have my best girl so sad.”

You stifle a giggle as you trace your way back out of the maze, slightly delirious from the attention and unexpected tears. Maybe you really will get some sleep tonight.

#saltburn #saltburn 2023 #oliver quick #barry keoghan #fanfiction #fanfic #hate yourself

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smallest-sunbeam · 3 months ago

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Didn’t like how this looked on my Instagram due to the weird lighting but wanted to post it, so :D

#sunbeams stuffies #stuffies #build a bear #pumpkin kitty #agere #age regression

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aliferous-ly · 5 months ago

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Sometimes Tango sees gold. He's deep in the Warden's den, so surely everything is soaked in blue and green.

Prussian blue. DePrussian blue. Like depression. Eh? Good one, right?

Tango sighs. The gold only flits in the corner of his vision and he's tired, he's endlessly tired but he can't leave until he's done. It's already been so long. He's stuck making shitty jokes to haunted faces that would sooner blastificate his face off than laugh.

But the gold. It's like stardust on his tongue. Memories of hellfire. Gorgeous gilded blackstone, the stuff from his days as a blazeling. No, more like dandelions, like sunbeams through forest branches.

Tango sticks his tongue out in concentration, hopping between crackling soulfires. Navigating his own maze requires skill! Skill that he doesn't always have, admittedly.

Releasing a quiet sigh of relief, Tango approaches an unfinished pillar. He twirls his pickaxe and gets to work. Shulker boxes surround him in short order.

So focused on his work, he misses the gold. He misses the yellow, the soft, the scorching, but it draws near all the same, getting closer and closer-

"Ah! Ow, ow, ow, ow," a voice yelps.

Tango screams, fumbling with his pickaxe and building blocks. Both fall to the ground as Tango whirls, nobody's supposed to be here, especially not-

"Jimmy?"

Jimmy sadly stomps his wing out. Black marks mar the feathers, ugly soot staining the gold. "Hi, Tango."

"What are you... How are you here? What are you doing here? You're - you're on Hermitcraft!" Tango gapes.

"Oh, um, crossover event?" Jimmy tries.

"I didn't think there was one of those right now," Tango says. He roots around in his many pockets, making a small happy noise when he finds his comm. He boots it up and peers at the list of people online.

Strangely, Jimmy's the only non-hermit. Tango scrolls through a few lines of Jimmy-Skizz banter, then sees Grian's message of a simple, "join vc".

"Grian got you on?" Tango says, still mystified.

"No, it was more of a group - Tango, quit distracting me! I trudged through all this - this hullabaloo to see you!" Jimmy punctuates this with hands placed determinedly on hips, expression set to a hopeful scowl.

Tango can't make heads or tails of it. It might have to do with the several shots of espresso coursing through his system. Or the lack of sleep. Or the concentration-fatigue, or the way his eyes have been going crossed when he peers at redstone wiring. Any number of reasons, really.

"...why?" Tango finally asks.

This stumps Jimmy. He blinks a few times and furrows his eyebrows. "Why? What d'you mean why? You're my rancher, that's why!"

Well, that's true. Tango nods. Then he paused, frowns, and shakes his head. "Wait, you can't be down here! Spoilers, Jimmy, spoilers!"

Jimmy snaps his fingers. "I'm not a hermit! And I'm certainly going to watch the videos when hermits release them. I won't spill!"

"I guess..."

"But anyway, let's get out of here. It's so stuffy and - fiery," Jimmy says. He flutters his burnt wing helpfully.

Tango wilts. His desire to see Jimmy and guilt at causing him harm wars with his ever-present need to keep working. "I'm busy, Jim. Gotta keep working. It's already been so long, the hermits are getting antsy..."

Jimmy invades his space and as the cavern trickles to silence, he wraps his arms and wings around him.

Tango's always been weak for him. He exhales. Any scrap of energy still clinging to his worn-out body vanishes, and he rocks further into Jimmy's hold.

To his credit, Jimmy just makes a small noise and adjusts so he can support his weight.

"Come on, then," Jimmy says softly. He runs his fingers through his hair. "Let's go take a rest, yeah?"

"Yeah, okay," Tango breathes. He closes his eyes and sinks into Jimmy's warmth. It's rather terrible of his fellow hermits, he thinks absentmindedly. Using his rancher for such nefarious means.

But now the glimpses of gold haunt him no longer. His precious yellow fills Tango's vision, covering him in head to toe with deep contentment.

His rancher. His rancher. Tango smiles, and everything glitters.

#every goddamn thing i write is filled with unimaginable yearning. shrug.#FOR THE BEGINNING: Tango's seeing things hes hallucinating and exhausted. hes craving the companionship of his rancher!!#team rancher #womp womp #NINES. (POINTS) THIS IS FOR YOU!!!!!!!#unedited literally didnt read it over before posting so typos and odd phrasing r added spice #my snippets

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griffinkid · 1 year ago

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"I'll protect you!"

"You're so tiny, what could you possibly protect me from?"

"Sadness"

#plushie: sunbeam #I'm gonna tag this I like how it came out #plushies #stuffies #kidcore #toycore #plushcore #plushwave #plushblr

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annaizscribbling · 1 year ago

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one of those Stardew drabbles where the farmer is not quite human but from different villager perspectives. Here's Sebby's

(Pt 1) (pt 2) (pt 3) (pt 4) (pt 5) (pt 6) (pt 7)

Sebastian sipped his piping hot coffee. He took it with a bit of cream these days. He was comfortably settled against his favorite windowsill, watching his wife work in the field. The sun politely warmed his pale skin. He’d gained a little color since moving to the farm, but not enough to really lose his sickly pallor. He made sure of that, wearing plenty of sunscreen.

He’s content. It’s nice to feel that way. Living in a stuffy basement, working and isolating himself felt foggy and miserable. But now, he’s happy. Calmer. He managed to get out of that old environment, and here with his wife, life finally seemed to mean something. He doesn’t long to escape and become something, instead, what he already is has become something worthwhile.

Living on a quiet farm, making breakfast for his wife, picking fruit and feeding chickens. It brings out a softness in him, a side that never fully been realized. Tenderness. Serenity. Peace.

Sebastion watches his wife chew some raw seaweed, pulled directly from her little black backpack. She’s never without that bag, as soon as she gets out of bed, it’s over her shoulder until she sleeps again. His eyes trail her bare arms as she clears some rocks. He’d given up on understanding how and why she consumes some strange foods, as long as he can wrangle her into a few balanced meals with him, he doesn’t care too much.

Her muscles are toned, far more defined than his will probably ever be. She hefts her pickaxe high above her head before brining it down onto the stone, shattering it. She’s quick to scoop up the rocks she wants as she kicks the rest to the side. His wife could do it for hours without pause, hours upon hours. Time always seemed to part for her.

She unknowingly flexes her bicep as she prepares to strike again. So strong, he can’t help but lean a little further into the window to catch a good glimpse. The little black tank top she usually wears leaves her deeply tanned olive skin on display. There’s hardly a sheen of sweat on her, which Sebastion always found strange. He takes one step outside on a summer day and he’s instantly disgusting. Somehow every hair on her face is immaculate and the thick eyeliner she applies every morning is always inexplicitly intact.

Perhaps he once thought of her as a strange woman, but now she’s his strange woman. The love of his life, the sexy farmer who he accidently stumbled into a romance with. The quiet, perhaps at times eerie, foreign city girl who changed the whole town. Who changed him …

He enjoyed watching her. It didn’t really matter what she was doing, her existence just drew him in. Sometimes he felt like a housecat unwilling to leave a sunbeam. Her radiance warmed him, calmed him, it made him feel like he was exactly where fate wanted him to be. She was the sun, or at least she was his. It didn’t matter what he was, so long as he could bask in her presence.

Speak of the devil, Sebastian doesn’t realize she’s come back inside until the front door opens. He discovers that he’s smiling before he’s even realized he’s turned his head to look at her.

Short curls that don’t seem to care for gravity and its rules. Freckled olive skin. Big brown eyes that seem to melt anybody who stares into them long enough. Muscles that he longs to caress and be wrapped up in each morning. Big heavy boots who have seen more monster blood and dirt than most do in their lifetimes. A shy smile.

The Farmer. His wife.

“Hey, Babe,” Sebatian says, “want some coffee? I woke up early from a nightmare and couldn’t fall back asleep.”

She smiles, and it’s so genuine that even now that they’ve been married a year, his heart just swells with that fluttery kinda love. His wife wasn’t a huge talker, it’s not that she didn’t talk at all, but she often spoke with her face. At this moment, her soft eyes are telling him everything he needs to know.

Soon, they’re cuddled together on the big sofa his mother had built. A cup of coffee for each of them rests on the coffee table. She’s resting her head on his lap, looking up at him with a dreaminess he’s sure is present on his own face.

“I have a gift for you,” she whispers, reaching into her bag, which she slipped off her shoulder and onto the rug. “Eyes closed, please.”

Sebastian does as he’s told. He feels her warm hands pry open his cold one, and something chilly is pushed into his palm. One side of his mouth turns up in a knowing smile. He knows what the gift is by the shape, and it charms him just as much as it did the first time she brought him one.

“A frozen tear,” Sebastian says fondly, holding up the glassy, perpetually cold little tear. He loves collecting them, keeping them, studying them. The first one she ever gave him is his favorite. He even had Clint turn it into a necklace. It’s under his hoodie on a chain even now, slightly cold, pressing against his chest, gently reminding him how much somebody loves him.

“It’s perfect,” Sebastian says, rubbing his thumb over the round base of the tear.

She tries to give him another one, but Sebastion laughs and tells her to stop spoiling him. He’ll take it later, when he doesn’t see it coming. One gift a day is already so much, especially combined with getting to hold her every night. A man’s heart can only handle so much.

Sometimes he wonders how she could possibly be of this world. She’s an angel. She’s a celestial being who commands the earth below her feet by purely existing. He’s sure of it some days. The plants grow like they’re reaching for her somehow. The waters always bring a fresh fish for her hook within seconds. The two can go looking for seashells together, but they’ll wash up to shore just for her, surely they must be. She heals weary souls by simply talking to her. Her farm animals love her, managing to produce perfect eggs and milk through their adoration for her.

Sebastion didn’t really know what she was, but he loved her.

#sdv sebastian #sebastian #stardew farmer #stardew sebastian #the farmer is a cryptid #stardew valley

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moraxsthrone · 2 years ago

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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ — KAEYA'S WEDDING DAY: HEADCANONS

consider yourself warned: sfw. agonizing fluff. depending on how much of a sap you are, you may want to have some tissue handy?

♡ when the massive doors of the cathedral open, it’s a long walk to the altar where he’s waiting for you.

♡ what feels like half the city of mond turns to look at you as you make your way down the aisle, but the whole world disappears when you see him.

♡ as though casting a spotlight on him, a lone sunbeam illuminates the space where your fiancée stands, proud and tall.

♡ the sight of him takes your breath away.

♡ he’s decked out in his knights of favonius-issued dress uniform, complete with his captain rank insignia displayed on the shoulder and breast of his coat - a rare sight indeed.

♡ (you can thank jean later.)

♡ he even had a matching white eyepatch with gold trim tailored especially for the occasion.

♡ he looks so noble and distinguished, regal even: a prince, ready to receive his princess.

♡ pinches the bridge of his nose when he sees you, inwardly cursing himself bc he swore he wouldn’t cry.

♡ (he wasn’t crying, his eyes were sparkling. there’s a difference, he’ll tell you later.)

♡ his fingers swipe under his eyepatch to wipe his tears away before they can betray him.

♡ he honestly never thought he’d find himself here - standing at the altar, watching someone who loves him - the real him - walk towards him with a wide grin, glowing, wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of her life with him. him, of all people.

♡ before he met you, he was terminally alone, resigned to a life of bachelor-hood.

♡ because who could he even be honest with? to whom could he ever tell the truth about his identity, his past, his ancestry, and still be accepted?

♡ he took a huge gamble the night he told you - not everything, but enough - and he’ll never forget the way you looked at him and said, “i’m so sorry you were abandoned like that. you were just a child, groomed to be played as a pawn in an old man’s war game. that should’ve never happened to you, kaeya.”

♡ then you brushed his cerulean hair away from his right eye, smiled at him, and told him the words he never dreamed he would hear in response to his truth. “i love you, kaeya, and i’ll never abandon you. i want you to know that.”

♡ when you finally make it to the altar and he takes your hand in his, the dam breaks and your muffled sobs can be heard throughout the congregation, several of whom join you.

♡ “you look so handsome, kaeya,” you tell him in a choked whisper.

♡ “and you look stunning as always, my love," he mouths back, his thick eyelashes wet with unshed tears.

♡ nearly every elderly lady in mondstat is in attendance and CRYING HER FUCKING EYES OUT.

♡ if your own grandmother is in attendance, she’s crying even harder bc she’s the lucky one who gets to have kaeya alberich as her grandson-in-law.

♡ the knights host an “official” reception for the entire city. it’s too formal and stuffy for your and kaeya's taste. but the two of you remain in your wedding attire and play the part, maintaining decorum as you receive the city's well-wishes and gifts.

♡ but as soon as it’s over, you both breathe sighs of relief, change into your street clothes and head over to angel’s share for your “personal” reception where only your closest friends and loved ones gather for a night of drinking and shenanigans.

♡ even diluc finds an opportunity to pull kaeya aside and bid him congratulations. and for once kaeya genuinely thanks him without tacking on a cheeky comment afterward. it’s a heartfelt exchange between brothers, man to man.

♡ just before midnight, kaeya brushes past you, stealthily telling you to meet him on the balcony before continuing on up the spiral staircase.

♡ moments later, you find an excuse to break from the conversation you’ve been stuck in and follow him.

♡ you ease the balcony door open to find your husband leaning with his elbows on the wooden railing, looking out onto the street below.

♡ he turns his head to look at you with pure adoration in his eye and a genuine smile that says he’s happy that you’ve managed to join him there.

♡ he stands up straight and reaches into his coat to pull out a bottle of champagne.

♡ “kaeya! did you sneak that from the bar stash?”

♡ “sshhhh. it’s better if you don’t know. plausible deniability.”

♡ “i can’t take you anywhere.”

♡ “now what kind of pirate would i be if i didn’t steal some booze?”

♡ you shake your head at him and giggle as he pops the top, a little of the bubbly spilling over the bottleneck.

♡ “to us”, he toasts simply.

♡ “to us,” you agree.

♡ he kisses you there on the tiny balcony of angel’s share, sweet and tender, and it becomes the most memorable moment of your entire wedding day.

♡ after all the fanfare and the hooplah, it is on the balcony of an old, dusty tavern where it’s just the two of you, and you finally have a quiet moment of romantic respite.

♡ he calls you mrs. alberich for the first time and asks you for a dance.

♡ the music and atmosphere downstairs is cheery and upbeat, but you dance slowly together to the beat of your own hearts.

♡ with your head tucked under his chin, your ear pressed to his chest, you look over and see the hand that holds yours and there’s a golden ring.

♡ it has your name engraved inside the band ‘y/n alberich’, just as yours does his.

♡ and so with a stolen bottle of champagne as your witness, you dance hand in hand, cheek to cheek, whispering the first of the same promises to each other that you will for years to come.

kaeya m.list

♡ reblog, if you please? i kiss.

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iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia · 1 year ago

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The Arcana Mini-HCs: Brainrot's Masterlist, Pt 2

MC wearing a onesie in public

When MC needs to stop eating sugar

M6’s slippers

When MC fumbles their words a lot

M6 building MC a gift basket

M6 getting caught making out with MC

Siren MC fails to lure the M6

MC serenading M6

M6 accidentally flustering MC

M6 finding their name in MC’s mehendi

When MC rants about their obsession

MC with seasonal allergies

M6 seeing MC sing on stage for the first time

M6 when they met MC as a child

MC referring to a fictional crush as “my partner” in front of M6

When MC’s familiar is a crab

M6 finds MC sleeping with their body pillow

MC takes M6 on a date in the magic realms

When MC crochets/knits everything

MC following a sunbeam like a cat

When M6 ask for a cheek kiss and get one on the mouth instead

When MC fidgets in front of a mirror from anxiety

MC with a dog familiar

Calling M6 by their full name

When MC stims aggressively

MC saying they’re proud of M6

M6 having curly fries

When MC has lots of freckles/moles/marks

M6 watching MC “die” in a play

M6 with a painter MC

When MC gets cuddly when they’re tired

When MC’s familiar is a hawk

M6 when MC forgets to take care of themself

M6 when MC’s familiar can talk

When MC is expressive/dramatic

When the silent treatment makes MC anxious

M6 playing the Sims

When M6’s baby laughs at something random

When MC doesn’t like to kiss on the lips

M6 whistling

MC with a HUGE familiar

MC with a surprisingly high voice

M6 when MC is scared of spiders

When MC’s familiar is a rat

M6 giving MC jewelry

MC's parents doting on M6

When MC sings out their bad feelings

When M6 try to carry MC and drop them

When MC has a cat familiar

When M6 walk in on MC's midnight feast

MC giving the M6 a flower

Doing each other's makeup

MC who praises but refuses to be praised

When MC shaves their head

When MC is Muriel's younger sibling

Carrying M6 bridal style

When MC uses flowers to insult people

M6 when MC contorts their body to stretch

When teen!MC is tall for their age

When MC is M6's long lost sibling

When MC is allergic to M6's familiar

MC and M6 take a spa day

Snowball fight!

MC stabbing corn romantically

MC meeting their long-lost sibling

When MC babies the M6's familiars

M6 when MC works while sick

When MC shreds on the guitar

With a magic-obsessed MC

M6 under a truth-telling spell

MC with crow wings

M6 doing yoga

When MC has a bunny familiar

When MC inherits Morga's familiar

M6 with MC's well-loved stuffie

When M6's kid says "I wanna marry MC when I grow up"

M6 when MC is Julian's childhood friend

M6 during the winter holidays

M6 at the gym

When MC has a kid from a previous relationship

M6 with a Gender-Fluid MC

Teen!MC gets kicked out by their parents

When Teen!MC's parents try to get them back

When MC is afraid of the dentist

M6 with a clumsy MC

M6's parents when MC is their long-lost child

MC asking M6 to crack their back with a hug

When MC says "I want a baby ... pet."

M6 with an MC who forgets to shower/change

M6 and MC getting lost without magic

M6 dropping MC during a trust fall

Taking care of drunk M6

M6 as fairy tales

M6 and MC in the Caramelldansen meme

When MC speaks in riddles

M6 when MC makes chocolate sculptures

When MC is a Centaur

M6 when MC writes songs for them

When M6's kid says "I wanna be just like you."

MC giving M6 a scrapbook of their love story

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #the arcana game #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson #the arcana crack #the arcana shitpost

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farmerlarrry · 10 months ago

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Orange Slices (Joel Miller x f!reader)

masterlist | chapter fifteen | chapter fourteen | read on ao3 | playlist

story summary: A story about finding companionship and love in the midst of chaos.

word count: 6047

if you want to be notified when I post new chapters, follow @farmerlarrrylibrary and put on notifications! If you'd rather be tagged, just let me know.

Chapter Sixteen

A heat radiating across your cheek draws you from your drunken sleep. Your eyelids are heavy as they slowly flutter open. Immediately, you are blinded by a bright light. Instinctively, you bring your hands up to cover your eyes, slowly spreading your fingers to acclimate your vision.

A sunbeam sneaks through an uncovered corner of the boarded-up window, spreading a thin streak of warm light across the darkened room. The corner of the cardboard used to board the window began curling in on itself most likely from the melting snow leaking through the poorly sealed edges.

Your head feels fuzzy, a tingling sensation quickly forms at the base of your neck as you swing your legs over the side of the couch, propping yourself upright. As the fuzziness intensifies and your head begins to spin, a small painful groan escapes from your throat and you slump back against the cushions of the couch, pressing the heels of your palms firmly against the sockets of your eyes. The pressure seems to soothe the ache a bit, offering you some sense of relief.

Steadily sucking in some of the stuffy air, you take a few deep breaths, desperate to gain a sense of clarity before having to go on patrol. You desperately hoped the influx of oxygen would solve the painful state of your hangover.

A soft snore causes you to drop your arms and open your eyes. Joel is sprawled out on the couch in front of you. One leg is bent, his foot firmly pressed against the concrete floor; the other leg is straight, his ankle propped up by the cushioned armrest and his ankle dangling just past the edge. He has one hand resting just below his ribcage, his shirt had become twisted against his torso at some point during the night, exposing a sliver of skin just above his pantline. You continue to let your eyes wander, your lips parting slightly as your mouth becomes dry.

Another soft snore comes from him, drawing your attention away from his lower section, and you slightly smile to yourself, now watching his silhouette as a whole; specifically the smooth rise and fall of his broad chest.

You let out a groan as you push yourself off the couch, tugging on the light pull of one of the lamps. You didn’t want to wake Joel–not yet. However, you wanted enough light to move around freely.

As the room illuminated, you looked toward Joel, partially afraid the much brighter light than anticipated would wake him. He remained still, another snore filling the silent room.

Running your hands along your face, you lightly slap your cheeks in a desperate attempt to wake yourself fully. You take in the now lit-up room before you as you turn slowly on your heel. Empty bottles of liquor lay on their sides, both on the coffee table and the floor. The records had been spread across the floor in front of the player that remained on. You slightly cringed at the fact, wondering how much power it must have drained from the generator.

Between the empty bottles and records, the events of last night flooded your memory. Joel holding you against his body, the steady sway of the two of you becoming one, the low vibration from his humming in your ear, his breath moist and wet against your neck.

A small shiver crawled down your spine the more you thought of it.

The rest of the night was a blur, honestly. The two of you drank…endlessly, apparently. And you talked–about what? You can’t remember. You don’t exactly recall when you laid down, if it was you or Joel who called it night, or how late you stayed up. And although patrol would surely be a bitch to do with your hangover, you weren’t entirely sure if you regretted any of it–the drinking, the dancing, the talking.

You let out a drawn-out exhale, bringing you back to the present moment. Staring for a moment longer, you decide to tidy the place up. It’s not a crime that you and Joel were there–the forgotten building wasn’t owned by anyone–but it’d be the best if no one suspected you were there with him, alone.

Starting with the bottles, you gather them up one by one; to hold them all, you end up having to use both of your arms, clutching them tightly against your midsection to keep them from clinking together and dropping. The hard part came when it was time to dispose of them in the bin. It was already half full with dozens of other glass bottles. Thankfully, you managed to keep the noise to a minimum.

Then you turned your attention to the records, stacking them how you remember James did at one point. The lone vinyl still on the player was returned to its respective sleeve, and the player was switched off.

For the most part, it looked as if the building remained untouched. In a few hours, the heavy scent of alcohol was sure to air out and then no one would know anyone had been there.

Turning away from the table that held the record player, now facing the entrance of the building, your eyes glaze up past the clock. Your heart drops as you process the hand positions and you look at it again. The clock reads half past eight, your stomach now twisting in a tight knot.

You and Joel were late for patrol.

“Shit,” you spit the profanity through your teeth, rushing to your boots that sat neatly at the side of the couch. “Joel… Joel,” You peer up at him through your brows as you frantically lace your boots. The flimsy laces kept getting tangled with your fingers, and the fact Joel had not moved a single muscle, despite you yelling his name furthered your frustration.

Before your mind could process it, your actions becoming a blur in your state of mind, you were by his side, your hand slightly hesitating before gently shaking him. He let out a groggy moan which resulted in you shaking him a bit more aggressively. This time, his eyelids fluttered a few times before opening and narrowing at you in annoyance.

He incoherently grumbled something, bringing his hand up to his eyes and covering them. You glanced once more at the clock, turning on your heel toward the door.

“We’re late. Time to get up.” Your tone is sarcastically sweet as you grab his jacket from the coat rack and toss it toward him. It lands just short of the couch and Joel grabs it midair before it can fall to the ground.

“What?” Joel asked in a low and heavy tone, his face twisting in confusion.

Zipping up your jacket, you put one of your hands on the threshold of the door. “Patrol,” you simply state.

Joel scoffs, standing from the couch and shrugging on his jacket.

“What are you talking about, it’s only–” He starts and you poke your head in one last time, just enough to see him glance up at the wall clock. “Shit.”

–

Joel is trailing behind you as you rush through the town square toward the entrance. Your backpack straps keep slipping off your shoulders, so as to not waste any time, you decided to not adjust them properly against your body–you’d do it once you were on Lucky and past the gates.

Joel kept whispering profanities to himself, trying to adjust his belt, the straps of his backpack, kicking at his loose shoelace all while trying to keep up with you; you wanted to tell him that doing that would only slow him down more, but decided to keep your mouth shut, and just focus on getting to your destination.

“You know, I’ve never overslept,” Joel calls out after you, his voice breathy and strained. “Not once.”

“Me either,” You respond somewhat bitterly. “Guess there’s a first time for everything, right?”

Joel responds with an amused snort.

As you come closer to the stables, you see James’ back, in a conversation with one of the stable hands. Your lungs were now burning and the cool air was steadily making each breath feel like glass shards in your chest.

“Fuck,” The word came out sharp. Joel let out a small hm, seemingly curious of your dismay.

You look over your shoulder at him, his hand is fumbling with the buckle of his belt–a sight you’d usually relish, but right now…all you could think about was James and whatever bullshit he was going to stir up now. You hate admitting this, you deserved to be scolded for being late. The thing that bothered you the most was the fact that James would be the one doing it.

Blinking once, then twice, you jut your chin in James’ direction. Joel quickly caught on, letting out an annoyed groan.

The stable hand made eye contact with you, his eyes widening before glancing away, focusing back on James; his mouth moving–saying something–and admittedly nodding. One more glance toward you, he then lifted his hand pointing a curled finger in your direction, trying to be subtle. As James turned, the other male quickly retreated into the stables.

James was pissed, you saw it all over his face; his cheeks stained pink, his mouth set in a deep frown, and his eyebrows tightly knitted together. A fire burned in his bright blue eyes when he noticed Joel straggling behind you.

You slowed your pace, a part of you wanted to go back to last night and live in that moment forever. You didn’t want to deal with James or his animosity toward you or Joel, you just wanted whatever was between the two of you to be done and over with; for the two of you to just pretend that you were nothing more than strangers.

Setting your eyes just past James on the wooden gate leading to the stables, you start toward him angling your body so you will just barely pass by him. If James was smart, given the past week, he’d keep quiet, not daring to make a move toward you. Sure he was a nice guy, like Charles said, but he had no idea how to take a hint–and when he finally got it, he acted like a child going and telling on you to Maria and Tommy.

Just as you are about to pass him, a breath of relief about to escape your lungs, James takes a step in front of you. The undesired closeness causes you to stagger back, putting a few feet between you and him. His nose crinkled as he squinted in the morning sun, shielding his eyes with his hand as he took you in.

“You’re late.” He said quietly, his tone had no fluctuations and wasn’t portraying the anger previously portrayed on his face. If anything he just sounded bored.

Glancing over your shoulder, Joel stayed a step behind you, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jacket. You could tell he was trying to seem uninterested in James, and maybe if you didn’t know him it would appear that way; but you knew James was one smart-mouthed remark from being socked in the face.

“Yeah, thanks,” was all you could manage to get out. You tried to step around him, but he reached out grabbing your arm, pulling you back toward him. Joel instantly came between the two of you breaking James’ hold of you and pushing him back.

James frowned looking between you and Joel as he staggered backward, grabbing the fence to steady himself. “I mean that you’re too late,” he continued, peering past Joel and looking directly at you. “I already sent Drew and Nora to cover your patrol.”

“We’ll go out and send them back.” Joel grumbled, his knuckles white as he gripped onto the strap of his backpack. James shifted his stance, now looking at Joel. The anger showed on his face again.

“It’s too late,” he stated again, this time more firmly. “I’m sure you’ll find somewhere else to be useful today.”

Before James could completely finish his sentence, Joel stormed past him, knocking his shoulder firmly into James’. James let out a small yelp, shooting a death glare in Joel’s direction. You didn’t move a muscle, watching Joel push open the gate with so much force it slapped against the wooden fencing, faintly mumbling something to himself that you couldn’t hear clearly.

When you look back at James, he’s rubbing his shoulder, his lips tightly pressed together.

“It’s not like I just sent them off in your place, I hope you know that.” He said as he took a step toward you now that Joel was gone. His eyes locked onto yours. “I went to your house when you didn’t show up. You weren’t there so then I went to Joel’s… I tried looking for you, I didn’t have to do that.” He was shaking his head.

You just nodded, tugging on your bottom lip with your teeth. It seemed as if the longer you didn’t say anything, the more desperate looking James became. After glancing between the open stable doors and James several times, you walked past James.

“Wait,” He called after you, and without thought, you stopped, keeping your back toward him. “Can we talk real quick?”

You let out a small scoff, rolling your eyes. “Now you want to talk?” You raised your eyebrows as you turned to face James.

“What? I–” His tone raised loud enough for you to look around. The few people lingering shot some glances toward you, a feeling of insecurity taking over.

“Keep your voice down.” You abruptly cut him off, glowering at him, before he could say something you really wish he wouldn’t say loud enough for others to hear. He kept his face as hard as stone.

“I don’t like us being mad at each other,” He said much quieter this time. His words nearly made your jaw drop and a flash of anger flooded your veins.

“Are you being serious, James?” You kept the same tone as before; harsh and dry. James cocked his head to the side, his eye darting between yours. “You tried getting me kicked off of patrol duty by lying and then you actively avoided me. I tried several times to talk to you and then it got to the point where Charles had to talk to you for me.”

Embarrassment washed over James and he looked down at the ground, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I’m sorry,” His voice was quiet but sounded sincere. “Charles did talk to me, and–and he made me realize how stupid I was acting. I’m–”

You stared at him a moment, running your tongue over the grooves on the roof of your mouth, your lips pursing as a result. His shoulders were hunched making him look small and vulnerable. You couldn’t tell if it was all an act and a way to get sympathy, or if he was truly just that; small and vulnerable.

“Are you only sorry because it backfired and you got in trouble instead?” You narrowed your eyes at him and crossed your arms. He glanced up to you, only to return his gaze to his boots.

“I was upset–” His voice sounded weak.

“Then be a fucking adult and deal with it,” The words came out much harsher than you intended them to. James looked up at you through his brows, this time holding your gaze. You could have sworn you saw his eyes glistening with tears; the thought made your stomach go sour.

James simply nodded before you brushed past him.

–

When you entered the stables, the stable hand whom you never learned their name immediately looked up from fumbling with one of the tangled hoses. A hint of judgment lingered in their eyes, tracking you as you walked in. As quick as the expression came over them, it disappeared, giving you a single nod, dropping the hose, and exiting through one of the side exits to the training grounds.

Embarrassment flooded your senses. Whatever he had been talking about with James, surely it was about you. Your eyes scanned the rotting wooden beams that needed replacement, biting down hard on the inner part of your cheek.

Clattering from the back of the building tipped you off as to where Joel was and you made a beeline to him, distracting you from your embarrassment.

Walking down the aisle, you realized most of the stalls were empty and there were no other stable workers aside from the one that had been talking to James. You and Joel were the only ones there. Quite an uncommon occurrence, but not entirely implausible. Perhaps they were out loading hay from storage to bring back and considering how many empty stalls there were, a good majority had taken the horses out for rides.

When Joel finally came into view, he was throwing one of the saddles up and over onto Callus, a small grunt coming from his throat.

“James was serious about not letting us go.” You yelled out to him as you entered the larger space. For a short moment, he stopped, only to continue, initially not saying anything in response.

Walking up to Lucky, you ran your hand down her forehead toward her muzzle. She quietly neighed, pushing into your touch. A small smile spread across your face, one that quickly disappeared.

“I’m not staying here all day.” He eventually responded. You gave him a single nod as to say fair enough, and took a seat on a low wooden stool, kicking at the stray hay that sparsely covered the floor.

Once Joel finished, he took a seat on an overturned half barrel next to you. You gave him a sidelong glance before focusing back on the two horses. Joel crossed his arms, letting out an exhausted sigh.

“What the fuck is his problem?” He finally said. “We were never, I don’t know… on good terms, but since I’ve come back, he’s actively gone out of his way to be a dick. I just want to fucking–” Joel let out a low grunt, stopping himself from going further.

You sucked in some air while shaking your head. “It’s me, Joel.” You half lied, knowing that it's not entirely you; it’s because of how much time you spend with Joel that has James so pissed off. Joel narrowed his eyes at you, seemingly confused. “He’s upset with me, so he takes it out on everyone else. I wouldn’t take it personally.”

You put your elbows on your knees and dropped your face into your palms. Joel’s eyes were burning a hole through you and you desperately hoped he wouldn’t press further. Surely by this point, he’s figured out that the petty drama you originally told him it was… was not just petty drama.

Your head began to buzz, likely induced by a combination of your hangover and stress.

Joel’s sigh caused you to give him a sidelong glance. It didn’t appear that he was too focused on you–it didn’t seem like he was focused on you at all in fact. It was good that he didn’t press further on the matter of James, because finally, things were moving in the direction you’ve been wanting to with Joel.

“We could go for a hike, take the long way to the outlook.” He suggested and leaned one arm on the knee farthest from you, shifting his body toward you. A hint of a smile appeared on his face; somewhat sympathetic looking, but you liked it when he smiled, no matter the cause.

“I’d like that very much,” You replied, returning his smile.

–

Joel wasn’t kidding when he suggested taking the long way. This path winded up and down, around small hills and past fast moving streams. It took about twice as long to get there, but it was nice to get your heart pumping.

Naturally, Joel took the lead. It seemed like it would be a good idea for the both of you to burn off some of your pent up emotions, so neither of you said much other than the occasional direction from Joel or a random comment about the surrounding nature.

The path you took today eventually led to the much shorter main path. When you finally arrived, you passed Joel who took a seat at the base of the boulder, opting for a seat closer to the edge of the cliff. The sky was clear today, bright blue and not a single cloud in sight. The air still has a chill to it, sending goosebumps up and down your arms and legs. Instinctively, you rub your hands against your limbs, trying to warm them up and cursing yourself for mindlessly forgetting your jacket on Lucky’s saddle.

“Here,” A warm voice appeared behind you and you twisted your torso to face the sound. Joel came up behind you, outstretching his jacket to you.

You give him a small smile, shaking your head, which prompted him to quickly roll his eyes. Before you could reject him further, his jacket was already draped around your shoulders. He took a seat next to you on the cliff and stared out toward Jackson.

“I know I’ve already sort of told you this, but it's nice that you’re back.” You say breaking the oddly comforting silence. He snapped his neck toward you, a look of surprise took over his expression; a look that you just stared at with wide eyes.

“Yeah?” Joel replied breathily. “I don’t think a lot of people feel that way” He shook his head.

Opening your mouth, you found yourself at a loss for words. You weren’t quite sure what to say back. Joel wasn’t exactly well liked in the community. He definitely wasn’t hated–by most–he was just…misunderstood, causing a lot of people to just ignore him. You knew firsthand how unpleasant he could be at times, plus you doubted he was ever around long enough to make any sort of deep connection with anyone. You weren’t even sure if that was something he desired.

Joel cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts. “But I suppose I’m glad one person does,” He immediately followed up, flashing you a smile and nudging you with his elbow. You just shrug, the corners of your mouth slightly turning upward.

“When you were gone, I used to come up here quite often, usually after I got done with patrol. That was part of what James told Maria, saying it was unsafe and was a poor decision that he advised against,” You said, mimicking James’ claims in his tone of voice which made Joel chuckle. “Sometimes I’d stay a few hours, other times I’d stay until dinnertime. It was… um… this place was really the only place that brought me total peace, so I guess what I’m trying to say is thank you for showing it to me.”

“What would I do out here?” He sounded curious.

You let out a long hum. “It depended on my mood, really. Sometimes I’d write, a lot of the time I’d read–it really made the time go by fast. Other times I’d just think. I don’t know, I just felt like this is the only place I felt like I could just… be me.” Your eyes were locked onto the edge of the cliff, your eyes frozen and unmoving.

“And here I thought all you did was drink with your friends who aren’t really your friends.” He joked.

You scoffed, half rolling your eyes as you shifted your attention to him. “Now that’s…complicated. I mostly tolerated them for Nessa’s sake. Sometimes they were fun, I won’t lie, but most of the time they were pretty–”

“Insufferable.” Joel completed your sentence, his eye shooting toward you with a petty smile on his face. You let out a low laugh, agreeing with him with a nod. A laugh escaped past his lips, one he quickly stifled with a dry cough.

“Remember how I told you I met Nessa at boarding school?” Joel hummed in confirmation. “Before Tommy found me…before I came to Jackson, all I could think about was her. Out of everyone I could have yearned for, I just wanted my best friend. I knew it wasn’t going to change the situation or make it any better, but…”

You dropped your head and loose strands of hair now cover your face.

“I love her to death, but she’s so different now. I never thought it would be in the realm of possibilities to see her again…now it just feels like the universe is laughing in my face.” You forced yourself to swallow against the lump that suddenly manifested in your throat. “She’s like a stranger and part of me resents her for that, and I feel like shit for feeling that way.”

In your peripheral, you can see Joel staring at you, a blank expression on his face. Suddenly you feel stupid for expressing your feelings, ones that you should probably confine to your journal. You’d never confront Nessa about it, so what was the point of dwelling on them?

“I’m sorry, you don’t…care. This is stupid.”

“No, I’m…” He began. “People change, sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse. Either way, a part of you will always want the old them back. Don’t apologize because I get it, trust me.” Tucking your hair behind your ears, you look at Joel. “Every time I come back, Tommy seems like a whole new person, it's always sort of a shock. I still think of him as my unresponsible little brother who can’t handle his alcohol or emotions for shit. It leaves me…stunned when I realize how much he’s grown and changed. And sometimes I miss who he was because he’s become so serious in a sense. I’m sure he has some of the feelings about me, perhaps Nessa does with you.”

You let out the breath of air you had been holding in and allowed your eyes to wander back to Jackson, roaming all over the different parts of the community. It seemed so small from up here. You narrow your eyes to where the stables are, letting your vision blur a bit.

“It seems like she hates me.” You say lazily. “I don’t know what I did that made her feel that way toward me. Am I that bad of a person?”

“No.” Joel nearly snapped back, the word coming out quick and harsh. “You aren’t a bad person, not even close.”

Dropping your head slightly, you slowly turn your head back to Joel. He has his legs stretched out, leaning back onto the palms of his hands. His chin is tilted upward as the sun caresses his tanned skin. Your heartbeat quickens as you look at him, a feeling of breathlessness coming over you.

You begin tracing your eyes along where his jawline would be if it had not been hidden by his salt-and-pepper facial hair. His adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed, his eyelids fluttering closed for a moment and a peaceful look overtaking his expression.

You couldn’t stop yourself from taking his looks in. Rugged and worn down, but so damn attractive.

Beads of sweat begin to form on his forehead. As one begins to slide down smoothly past his temple, your eyes lock onto the scar. Deep and twisted looking, yet small enough to remain unseen if you weren’t looking for it. Your stomach went sour the longer you looked, not out of repulsion, but because of how you received your own scar, the one identical to his.

“Ca–can I ask you something?” Your mouth moved before you could completely commit to the question, causing you to stumble on your words.

He raised his eyebrows, before opening his eyes and shooting a sideways glance toward you. Joel gave you a slight nod as to tell you to continue.

“What's your scar from?” The words seemed illegal as they came out, causing you to slightly cringe. It was dangerous territory asking these kinds of questions nowadays.

There was a hitch in his breath before he dropped his head. He drew in a deep, long breath as he peered up toward you. Immediately all you saw was pain in his eyes, a darkness that you couldn’t explain, but could understand.

“I'm sorry, never mind.” The words came out quickly as you wrapped your arms around your torso.

“No, no it's uh…” Joel responded, trailing off. He inhaled sharply before smoothly letting the air out of his nostrils. “A gunshot.”

He nodded distantly, his thoughts leading him a million miles away from you. You waited for him to elaborate but it was apparent after a few long seconds of silence that was all he was going to offer up. You weren’t going to push him further on the matter.

You just nod, eventually pointing up to your own scar “I ask because I have one too…”

A complex look comes over him and he seems to hesitate, “How–how’d you…” His eyebrow twitched as he stumbled over his words.

“Same as you. It was a FEDRA soldier that I had been doing some work for under the table. I guess I pissed him off somehow and he came to my place in the middle of the night with a gun—with the intention to kill me, not sure why he opted for a gun when everyone would have heard, but he seemed upset enough to not care if anyone heard. One of his buddies followed him though, he and I had sort of an understanding of one another and we…we were close in a certain sense. Anyway, he grabbed the gun just as it went off…the bullet grazed me, some of the shrapnel from it hitting a metal beam also hit me, so…” You brought your index finger up to your scar, running the pad of your finger over the rough edges as you recounted the night of the incident, excluding many details from being spoken. The fear you felt when you awoke to a dark silhouette standing over your bed, the cold sweat that ran down your back, the feeling of the metal against your skin, the ringing in your ears after the gun went off and how days passed and it felt like you were trying to hear underwater, until it miraculously came back. After that night you never saw the soldier you fucked over, but his friend that intervened–you saw him all the time and he was adamant about avoiding any interaction with you. When he couldn’t avoid it entirely, he never looked you directly in the eye.

“Christ,” Joel said quietly, almost as if it was meant just for him. “Well… I’m glad it didn’t work out.”

You let out a near silent sarcastic laugh, turning your attention back to the view.

“Yeah, I didn’t always see it like that. After Houston fell… I didn’t have anyone; family, Nessa,” You shook your head. “I didn’t even have myself really, I was careless because of how bad I wished I was de–” You stopped yourself before finishing completely. Surely he knew what you were going to say anyway, but you couldn’t bring yourself to actually say it out loud. “I’m happy now that it missed, though.” Your voice sounded tight.

The chirping of the birds above filled the silence that took over. If you strained your ears enough, you could have sworn you could hear the soft murmurs of the bustling community below.

“May I ask you somethin’?” Joel suddenly asked.

“Of course.” You responded immediately, focusing on two figures approaching the front gate, most likely Drew and Nora.

He took a moment before following up as if he were deeply contemplating his question. The pause made you slightly anxious prompting you to look over to him. He was running his thumb and index finger over his chin over and over.

“Why were you at boarding school?” The words finally came out and it wasn’t the question you were expecting from him.

“Oh geez,” You said breathily, your words portray how caught off guard you were. “Well, initially I had no idea why I was being sent away. My parents told me they wanted a school that would offer me much more than an education, but experiences as well. I was annoyed, but I was 15.. 16 years old at the time so I couldn’t do much about it.”

You drew in a smooth breath of air, the feelings all rushing back to you and becoming overwhelming.

“A few weeks after the spring semester started, my mom flew me out… Nessa was in the room next to me, so that’s how we met. Immediately we became best friends, inseparable, really,” You continued. “I found out a bit later that the reason they sent me away was because they were having marital problems, they wanted to get their affairs in order before deciding if they wanted to continue trying or if they should separate… I guess they didn’t want me in the middle of all of it. I was so upset with them, I refused to come home for the summer and to add insult to injury, I refused to talk to them after that.”

You paused to gather your thoughts, your eyes beginning to brim with tears. “The last conversation I had with my parents was May 15th of 2003, it was the week before school got out…I told them– I told them I hated them, that I wasn’t coming home. They tried calling many times, sending letters and packages, but I just ignored them.” The words came out weak, your chest burning with guilt.

It was like you could hear the silence on the phone between your parents and yourself all over again. You felt yourself caught between the reality with Joel and your conscious state in the painful memory of your final interaction with your parents. The realization hit you like a rock, sending your emotional state spiraling.

“Oh my God Joel,” The words came out between your heavy sobs; nasally and forced. You looked over at him with tears now streaming down your face, your chin quivering uncontrollably. “The last thing I said to my parents was that I hated them.”

Without any hesitation, Joel pulled you into his arms. His warmth engulfed you completely as you nuzzled your face against his chest. Your chest heaves as you let your emotions flow, a tightness completely taking over your chest, your muscles tensing and untensing under the emotional stress.

Joel ran his hand smoothly up and down your back, his chin resting gently on top of your head. His grasp on you was firm as if he was trying to convey to you that he wasn’t going to let you go, not until you felt like you were okay.

The birds in the surrounding trees went silent, the only noise was your muffled sobs and the whistling of the gentle breeze.

Joel squeezed you a bit tighter, “I had–I had a daughter…before.” He spoke, the words immediately piquing your attention, distracting you from your own pain. “Her name was Sarah, and she… she–I should've been there for her more, but I–” A deep sense of pain radiated from his words.

Joel struggled to speak. You heard his heartbeat quicken when he said her name and the pain in your heart only grew stronger. For you. For him… especially for him. He had a daughter before this, all the anger and resentment… it all made sense now.

You untucked your arms from your chest and wrapped them around his torso, opening your eyes to be present. You were staring at the ground; rocks and leaves and sticks.

He cleared his throat, loosening his grip around you, but not letting go completely. With one hand he grabbed your shoulder, gently squeezing it, the other hand firmly planted on the middle of your back.

“Coming from someone who was a parent, they knew… know that you love them.” His mouth is hovering over your ear as he speaks. His voice is now more stable and clear than before. “No matter what you told them, they knew.”

read chapter seventeen here!

painting divider | credit: @cottage-writings

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