#sad boi baz | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

azsazz · 1 year

Text

Winter Winds

Azriel x Reader

Summary: Anon req: ik you probably won’t get to this in a while but i just read “in ribbons” and absolutely loved it!! got me so hot and bothered. anyway, thinking abt az, reader, and the kids got me thinking…what if the entire ic and their kids are all at wind haven for some trip or something. the oldest kids are pre teens, a bit older maybe. while at the camps, someone attacks the reader and she’s like seriously hurt. like seriously seriously hurt. az goes ballistic, and all the kids get so worried. but especially the older ones, maybe wren baz and zuzu, they get super angry and want to help az get revenge for their mother?

Warnings: Injury, mentions of blood and gore. Traumatized children but they are otherwise unharmed.

Word Count: 4,921

Notes: You didn’t think I forgot about posting today, did you? Silly. I didn’t make them pre-teens, they’re I guess a bit younger than that but close, but I think I’ve got most of the idea in here, except the revenge part. Sorry about that and sorry in advance this one’s kinda sad.

_________________________________________

“Daddy?!”

His son’s frantic voice slices up his spine like an icy blade, plunging deep and cleaving him in half.

At the sound, Azriel’s body flashes hot with adrenaline and everything else slows to a crawling pace.

He spins on his heel instantly, ignoring the grumbling of the camp warlord who’d been reporting to him, now muttering under his breath about letting his savage brood run wild in the camps, that he doesn’t know how to raise them.

His family means more to him than anything, and that terrified shout from his son to grab his attention isn’t one he’s heard in years.

Something is very very wrong.

Azriel’s heart stammers in his chest like the frantic beat of wings in war when he locks eyes with his second oldest son, Baz.

He shouldn’t be out here alone, even if he has been in the training camps for nearly two years now and knows his way around. If any of the warriors had grabbed him and thought to teach the Azriel a lesson through his child…the spymaster shivers at the thought.

The more pressing concern, the one that makes his brows twitch into confusion and fuels his feet forward and nearly halts his heart in his chest, is that young Baz isn’t dressed for the cold. The Illyrian mountains in the peak of Winter could give even the most attuned warrior frostbite in mere minutes, and Baz isn’t even wearing a coat.

Worse yet, there’s tears streaming down his ruddy cheeks, cherry red from his journey.

He must’ve run the entire way to meet him in boots that are untied and tripping him in his haste to find his father. If someone’s stolen his jacket Azriel will be the last thing they see as he–

Azriel’s slipping out of his own coat, uncaring that the snaps rip open by the base of his wings. He needs to get his son bundled up, and quickly, before he comes down with something worse than the cold Azriel already knows is in his future. He scoops Baz into his arms, wrapping him carefully and hugging him close to his chest. His shadows swirl around both of them, already preparing to winnow them away.

“What’s wrong buddy?” he’s whispering, wiping the tears from his son's bruning face. Sometimes he and his older brother will get into arguments that have one of the boys running to Azriel in a fit full of tears but never something quite like this. Baz knows how to put his coat and tie up his boots and not to run across the camp alone–

The little boy in his arms releases a sob that nearly shatters the snowy peaks of the mountains surrounding them, “Mommy–”

He doesn’t need to continue. Azriel winnows them back to the house without a second thought, hugging Baz tightly to his chest, lips pressed to the crown of his sweaty black hair. He hopes that his son can’t feel him trembling, fisting his hands in his coat to stop the shaking. If something has happened to you he doesn’t know what he will do. How he will survive.

But he would’ve felt it, if there was something wrong, through the bond you share. He lets his shields slide down, reaching out for that golden thread, the one that feels like warm summer winds in the night sky, your hand caressing his soul.

There’s nothing.

Azriel gives a sharp tug but receives no response as he and his son arrive in a mass of black shadows on the front porch. The bond grows more taut with worry the more he tries, desperate pleas for you to respond that go unanswered as he shoves the door open with a heavy boot.

The house is in complete chaos.

His shadows scatter immediately, searching and returning with whispers of bloody fingerprints on the counter top, streaking across the wall in his bedroom, on the doorknob to the bathroom, while he frantically searches the room for the rest of his children.

Horror coils his gut at the scent of his mate’s blood, thick in the air. It makes him choke, hot and heavy in the back of his throat.

Azriel sets Baz down, nearly tearing the door off of its hinges when he shuts it and turns the lock. He allows himself a single drawn out breath while his mind reels for a plan of action.

Wren looks more worried than his little brother, though Azriel knows that his eldest is trying his best to keep his emotions together for his siblings.

He had a screaming Jax in his arms, the younger boy clearly distraught about the heightened feelings of anxiety and concern smothering him. He reaches up for Azriel as Wren carries the struggling babe closer, trying his best to keep hold of his brother.

“Dad,” Wren breathes a sob of relief, but Az notes the twins in their playpen, Malos’ cries are loud enough for the silent wailing babe beside her, four sets of tiny hands curled around the brim of the pen with white knuckled fingers.

“Wren, I need you to watch your siblings for a little bit longer, okay?” Azriel’s voice is strained with tension as he calls out to Rhysand in his head, his golden eyes a hair wider as he searches the room for Zuzu. He rubs a reassuring thumb across Wren’s cheek and over Jax’s hair, trying to calm the little boy down. “Uncle Rhys and Uncle Cass will be here any minute, alright bub? They’re going to take us all to the River House.”

Wren’s lip quivers but he’s squaring his shoulders as he looks up at his father, “Mommy’s hurt.”

“I know,” it pains him to say it, but by now he knows, “I’m going to get her, will you and Baz help the little ones put on their shoes please?”

Wren nods and sets to work helping his father while Azriel rushes towards the bathroom where his shadows have located both Zuzu and you.

He finds Zuzu is sitting in front of the bathroom door, banging on it as she wails for you. Her throat must be raw from the screaming because she sounds horse, tears dripping down her face and snot bubbling from her nose.

Azriel hears Rhys and Cassian appear in the living room, and he lifts Zuzu up from under her arms as Cassian appears, his first thought to help his brother.

“Az–” Cassian sounds nervous for his brother. When he’d gotten the call a short time ago telling him that he and Rhys needed to pick up the children because something had happened to you his heart dropped, terrified for his best friend.

“Just take her, please,” Azriel pleads, letting the worry he feels coat his words. His throat is tight with emotion and he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to keep himself from going berserk because he can see the red painted handprint on the brass knob and the smell of your blood is overpowering.

“I’ve got her,” Cassian nods, and the look in his hazel eyes gives Azriel brings forth that last shred of hope as his brother turns away and he twists the knob.

His knees nearly give out at the sight of you, unconscious and lying in a pool of your own blood. You look paler under the luminescent faelights, the hand holding together the gaping wound in your side now slack in the puddle of crimson.

Your name is a cry of helplessness on his lips as he dives forward, knees cracking against the tiles as he slides closer, pressing his fingers to the pulse point in your neck and caressing your face with the other, a shaky hand brushing the hair back from your face.

His shadows have alerted him that you’re breathing, but barely so, and he releases a shaky breath because he wasn’t able to feel the barely there beat of your pulse beneath his fingers with how badly they’re desensitized from his own burns and the pounding of his own heart.

But Gods–the gash in your side is something a warrior would receive in battle, like you have taken a long sword to the side, your flesh tearing open, muscles and blood and–

No, he doesn’t want to think about whether he sees an organ or not. No, he needs to focus on stopping the bleeding. Azriel can’t help but think, his beautiful mate…who has done this to you?

Rhys and Cass both appear within seconds, having called for the best healers in Velaris to the River House, where his children now are, under the care of the High Lady and Inner Circle themselves.

“Az,” Rhysand murmurs, hardly louder than a simple breath as he takes in the state of the room. His spymaster, on his knees in a pool of your blood as he tries his best to stop the bleeding. The towel you had grabbed is already sopping wet with blood and there’s no signs of it slowing.

His wings are drooped low behind him, the slippery warmth of the floor against the thin velvety skin is a reminder of exactly how much blood you have lost. Had he been any later, had you not sent Baz–

“Help me.”

It makes both brothers freeze, the utter helplessness, the devastation in Azriel’s voice, so small, so soft, unlike anything they’ve ever heard.

They jump into action.

“Az,” Cassian approaches him like he’s approaching a wild beast, unsure of how to approach this side of him, soft footing and hands raised in surrender. The spymaster lets his brother place a hand on his shoulder, turn him from his spot so that they’re looking at each other.

Cassian has never seen Azriel so panicked, not in the 500 years they’ve been best friends. Not through the wars, the nightmares, the births…not even through the mild complications you’d gone through when the twins were born. No, he was a solid wall, not an ounce of emotion had cracked through the barriers he had built, but this…

His chest heaves with every breath he takes, short and quick and filled with anxiety. Azriel’s hands are vibrating when Cassian takes them in his own. He doesn’t care that he’s kneeling in your blood, that Az’s hands are slippery with it, all he cares about are his friends.

“Az,” he tries again, and the usual honeyed gaze of the shadowsingers meets his own. He’d startled him. Can see the swirling emotions racing behind his eyes; the hatred, the scared, the utter fear, his mind unable to grasp onto one feeling long enough to put thought into it. “We’re going to take you to the River House, okay?”

He’d carry him if he had to, but Rhys can get the job done. There’s worry that Azriel might explode, break completely in his hands and let the beast within him finally take over. And if that happens, he’s glad the children are far away, because no one, not even Cassian nor Rhysand, will stop him from turning the Illyrian camps into nothing more than a tornado of black mist.

Azriel isn’t seeming to comprehend what he’s saying, head tilting down to look at where his hands rest in Cassian’s grip, thumb sliding through the cooling blood on his hands like it’s not the ichor of his mate, painting his hands the color of Cassian’s siphons.

Rhys comes around the both of them, crouching to place a hand on each of their shoulders. The wisps of darkness that carry them through the planes of the continent must strike something within Azriel because he’s tensing under his touch and wrenching away.

“Az,” Rhys commands softly, hands raised to show no sign of wanting to corral his brother’s anger, “The babes are right in there.”

The reaction from his statement is near instant, locking down his emotions little by little like the scales of his armor retracting into his leathers, until there is almost nothing left.

Azriel spins on his heel, already heading towards the shut door between him and the muffled cries of his children on the other side.

Cassian steps into his path, stopping him.

He watches the spymaster assess him with a trained eye but Cassian’s already weighed his brother's reactions in his head, being a true warlord himself. There is no way he will let the children see their father like this, worked up with their mother’s blood all over them.

Rhys draws the attention of the shadowsinger again, both Illyrians goading him like a tiger waiting to strike, “(Y/N) is this way. She’s with Madja and her best healers.”

The sound of your name strikes him low, chest caving and reaching down the bond for you again, knowing there will be no response, a wall of icy metal stopping him from entering.

Azriel glances at the door again, but makes his way towards the room you’ve been hauled off to, worried for your wellbeing.

The saliva is thick in his mouth as he ascends the stairs, his brothers tight on his flanks. His hands are curled into tight fists and he can feel the cracking of your blood on his hands in a way that would normally be calming if it were anyone else's blood, but not yours.

Never yours.

He pushes into the room and doesn’t look at the wound or the few nursemaids that are crouching over you. He doesn’t look at the bowls of water stained crimson, the towels dripping or the clothes they’d cut you out of, he keeps his focus on your closed eyes.

He’s quick to find his place at your side, perching out of the way as he reaches for your hand but freezes when he catches sight of his own.

“Here,” Cassian’s soft voice has him looking up, the warlord holding a freshly damp rag for him to take, not even a touch of red on it.

His throat works against a swallow as Azriel takes it, scrubbing his hands like he’s the one who’d rubbed his skin down to the bone and left these scars.

He does the best that he can without spiraling. He’s had blood on his hands before, many times, but the fact that it’s your blood has him reeling, immediately stopping the work on cleaning his own hands in favor of helping you clean yours.

When he’s done he hands it back to Cassian who gives him a soft nod and a sad smile. Neither are the things he wants to see right now. All he wants to see is you opening your eyes and looking at him, smiling, laughing, unharmed.

There’s nothing else to do but wait, which he does so quietly, stroking his thumb across your forehead while his other keeps your limp hand firmly tucked in his grasp.

He doesn’t look at the wound they’re stitching up, but he can’t help himself from reaching down the bond every few minutes, silently praying to the Mother that you will respond.

His brothers wait by the door. Rhys lets Cassian get cleaned up and check on the children while he watches Azriel from across the room, his own heart aching for his brother in this situation, to be near his own mate at a time like this.

But he stays put because that’s what any of them would do for each other, even when Cassian comes back, hands clean and clothes new, no traces of your blood on him.

They know that there will be no moving Azriel from your side to clean up, so they don’t even try. When Feyre dips her head into the room, catching a glance at you and your mate on the lone bed, a handful of healers working frantically around, they share a look.

It’s Rhys who approaches him this time, making sure his footsteps are heard by the shadowsinger as he nears.

He watches Azriel’s shoulders pull up taut, his spine stiffening and shadows curling his rounded ear that the High Lord is approaching.

His golden gaze is a harsh glare, a warning to stay away, and although Rhys understands the look, it still hurts.

“Az, maybe you should get cleaned up,” he suggests softly, keeping a healthy distance away from the bed. The healers have started sewing up your wound, having been able to stop the blood and stabilize you, and their work will be done soon.

The shadowsinger’s face doesn’t change as he looks back down at you, dismissing Rhys with that single action.

“The kids,” he tries, “They’re worried. They want to see you.”

Azriel nearly startles at the mention of his children. They’d been half scared to death when he’d last seen them, frantic and worried about their mother just as much as he was. He can see them all clearly, Wren trying to be strong, Baz’s red face wet with tears, Zuzu and Jax and the twins all crying out for help, understanding that something was horribly wrong.

“The kids,” he murmurs, as if he’s not even there. Azriel pets your hair again, smoothing his fingers down your cheek, across your lips, finding their way to the juncture of your jaw and throat, where your pulse is.

Rhysand waits with a baited breath as Azriel counts, comes to whatever conclusion in his mind that he can, grasping for some sort of sign that you might be okay.

The beating of your heart is constant, evened out even though one of the nurses has already told him as much. He won’t leave you if he doesn’t think you’ll be okay.

But he knows you would want him to make sure the children are okay, so he places a kiss on your hand, ignoring how the warmth hasn’t quite returned to it completely, before settling it comfortably at your side and standing from the bed.

He follows his brothers from the room and as soon as the door snicks shut behind him and the wail of Zuzu is carried to him on the whisper of a shadow, he breaks.

He makes a break for his children, his flight sense kicking in but he’s hauled backwards into the arms of Cassian, holding him tightly across the chest as he struggles.

If he were in his right mind he’d be able to figure a way out of his hold.

“Az, you have blood all over you,” Cassian grits, his breath puffing with the struggle of keeping Azriel in his hold. He’s writhing like an animal, trying to tear his way through whomever he needs to to get to his family. “You can’t go in there like this. You’ll scare them.”

That makes him stop struggling, worming his way out of Cassian’s touch.

“But Baz didn’t have a jacket on–”

“He’s already been looked at by a healer,” Rhys supplies, trying to calm the skittish shadowsinger.

“And Zuzu’s been screaming her head off,” he retorts just as easily, mind reeling at how his children must be feeling.

“She’s been given a soothing tea for her throat,” Cassian adds, fiercely protective of them as he is his own children.

“And Jax–”

“Jax is an empath,” Rhys agrees, ushering Azriel towards the other end of the hallway, “And it’s normal for him to react like that with all of the emotions running rampant in the room at the time. You need to calm yourself down if you are to hold him, your reactions will harm him more than Wren’s. For now he’s fine. They’re all okay, Azriel. Here and in one piece, waiting for you.”

Azriel’s wide eyes are glossy as he looks between his brothers, back and forth as if he’s searching for anything other than the truth there.

He won’t.

“They’re okay?” he asks again, not quite sure he believes it.

Both of his brothers nod, “They’re okay Az. Promise.”

.·:·.☽ ✦ ☾.·:·.

You feel like utter shit.

Like you’ve been carved down to the bone with a blade. There’s a pounding in your head and when you open your eyes the room spins, bright with light. Your head goes with it, the whispers of words striking like a bell tower to your brain.

“(Y/N)?”

That voice silences everything.

You squeeze his hand, blinking against the faelights until the three Azriel’s you see finally become one, perfect, mate.

“Az,” you breathe.

He bites his lip, hardly able to contain the relief he feels in this moment. He knows you’ve just opened your eyes but he’s squeezing his shut tight and resting his forehead gently against your own.

And the bond floods with warmth, his breath catching in his throat.

“I’m here,” your free hand finds his hair, smoothing through it the best that you can in your weakened state, “I’m here, Love.”

He nearly whimpers, would have if his mind hadn’t gone immediately into spymaster mode, seeing you awake.

He pulls away from you all too quickly, sitting straight in his spot beside you, the golden glow of his iris’ swimming with dark shadows.

“Who.” he asks, and it’s not a question. It’s the only word he can get out, voice dipped in steel and as sharp as the blade he’s been filing for the days you’ve been under rest.

“Some old relative,” you cough, throat dry, and you hiss at the pull in your stitches. Azriel is quick to help you drink some water down, soothing the roughness in your voice and the pounding in your head. “Claimed to be so, at least.”

“Fucking bastards,” he spits, the shadows in his eyes sweeping into hot, angry flames, “I’ll kill every single fucking one of them.”

“Az,” you sigh. You love your mate dearly and this is about as normal a reaction as you would expect from him, but you’re so achingly tired. “Are the kids okay?”

He shudders at the thought of something happening to your children and kisses across your knuckles, your hand in his shaking ones.

“Yes, the babes are fine.”

You settle a bit more, knowing that truth. The fact that Azriel has referred to them as babes shows you just how terrified he truly is.

“How are you feeling?” he whispers, propping his chin where your hand is holding his.

“Tired,” you offer, because you’re afraid that a joke might push him over the edge. “Can I see my babies?”

Azriel looks like he might protest. You’ve been changed and brought to a different room once the painkillers and healing drinks the nurses had forced down your throat had begun to work, but he thinks of his rowdy children and your fresh injury, he worries for you.

But you’re pleading, “Please, Love. I need to see them.” And he gets it.

Because he finds himself needing to see them as well.

“Drink some more water, tell me what happened, and I’ll get Rhys to bring them in.”

You hold his gaze, nodding finally.

Azriel helps you drink some more water, nearly a whole glass before you begin.

“I was on my way back from the mercantile,” you start, swallowing harshly as you wrack your brain for what had happened. “Just a quick trip to get some treats for the little ones,” you laugh dryly, tears welling up in your eyes. Azriel’s quick to thumb them away, caressing your cheek with his warm hand.

“I didn’t see him coming until it had already happened,” you admit shamefully. Your mate had taught you better than that and you had failed him.

Your mate sends nothing but warmth down the bond because while you may have been taken by surprise, he knows you didn’t go down without a fight.

“I didn’t understand how bad it was until after he was laying in the snow next to me and I looked at my torn coat and saw all the blood.”

You remember crying out as his blade slashed across your body and took you to your knees. You’d been able to act through the pain, kicking a foot out behind you and sweeping your attackers feet from under him.

It was easier to pry the longsword from his hands when he was gasping for air and even easier to make sure he never took another breath again.

“I don’t remember getting home,” you exhale a shaky breath, “I was just holding my side and there was so much blood Az, so much blood.”

He shushes you softly, upset with himself that he’s asked you to share this story. If he had known your attacker was dead he wouldn’t have asked and before he can try and stop you you’re already continuing.

“I was afraid to go home,” you admit, and his hand clutches yours tighter, “I didn’t want the babes to see me like this.”

Your admission hangs over the both of you, loud in the otherwise silent room.

“I’m glad you did,” Azriel’s voice is thick with emotion, “If you hadn’t and I had lost you…”

“You didn’t,” you reassure, maybe for the both of you, “Let’s not think about that.”

He doesn’t know how he’ll ever be able to think about anything else but he nods, agreeing.

“I hid it the best I could, but you know Wren,” the thought of your oldest brings a smile to your face, “He’s so smart, that one. I told him to watch the babes for me while I went to clean up and he tried to talk to me, tried to ask me what was wrong but I just kept going, telling him that I was fine and would be out in a minute…” you trail off because you weren’t out in a minute. On the floor unconscious in a minute more like.

Azriel kisses your knuckles, lingering on your fourth finger before he answers, “He told Baz to come get me. I was talking to a commander and he came running up screaming and crying out for me. Scared me shitless I tell ya. Didn’t even have a coat on.”

Your eyes bulge and you try to sit up, distressed over your son out in the mountains without a coat, “Is he–'' your question is cut off by a hiss and Azriel’s on his feet guiding you back down onto the bed, gentle hands on your shoulders.

“He’s alright, Love. They all are. Got them all checked on while they were helping you. Not even a sniffle,” Azriel soothes. He relaxes when your shoulders droop and you settle back into the pillows.

“Thank you,” you whisper, thumb brushing across his knuckles, “I love you.”

“I love you too, (Y/N). So fucking much,” he breathes, shuddering when you caress his cheek.

You tug on him weakly, puckering your lips for a kiss that he easily ducks down for, the tension melting away from his body now that you’re awake in his arms.

“Can I see them now?” you ask as soon as you pull away. Your mate huffs playfully, already calling out to Rhys in his mind.

The door slams open, Wren and Baz racing into the room with the Inner Circle hot on their heels. Rhys is holding Zuzu, Feyre’s hugging Jax close to his chest while Cassian and Nesta each hold a babe, their own boys trailing in behind them.

Azriel shoots to his feet, catching his two oldest sons around their waists before they can launch themselves at you.

“Mommy,” Wren cries from his father’s grasp and Baz bursts out into tears at the sight, reaching over Azriel’s shoulder for you.

“Az, let them go,” you scold lightly, but caress the bond, thankful for stopping them before another injury could happen.

“Boys, you need to be gentle with mommy, okay?” Az holds each of their arms, making sure that his order has been received by each son before slowly letting them go.

They’re both on your uninjured side, Baz tumbling into your arms. He climbs up onto the bed and you hold him close, letting him cry into the crook of your shoulder, reaching out for Wren with tears in your own eyes.

“Hi baby,” you whisper, voice thick.

“Mom,” he breaks, tears spilling as he climbs up next to Baz, letting you run your fingers through his hair.

You bite your lip, holding your boys as close as you can, before looking around the room at the rest of your children, your family.

Each one is looking at you with smiles, some pained, some relieved, some teary, and you know that if something had gone wrong, that your children would be in the best of hands.

Your teary gaze slides back to your mate. He hadn’t looked away from you while you were taking everyone in, seeming to know exactly where your mind had just been. But he doesn’t want to think about that right now, all he wants is to hold you and his children as close as he can, forever and always.

Cassian hands Knox off to Azriel as he rounds the bed to your injured side, taking the spot next to you to block your injury as he gestures to his brothers and their mates to bring forward the rest of your children.

Let us know if you need any help, Rhys speaks to Azriel and the shadowsinger nods, looking at you with the babes all curled in close, hugging each other tight.

He knows they won’t leave you now, but he doesn’t care because everyone is here together, in one piece.

One big family.

#Azriel #azriel x reader #dad!azriel #daddy!azriel #azriel/reader #azriel x you #azriel/you #azsazz #azsazz next gen #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acotarxreader #acosf #acofas

999 notes · View notes

sailorblossoms · 4 months

Text

When Baz is truly in danger, Simon’s instincts is to love and protect him. There’s protection even with Baz’s “plots”(with the the chimera, which Simon treasures it as getting closer to Baz and comes to remember romantically). There’s Simon protecting Baz (wanting to) even from himself.

Simon is bark (and no bite) with the sword in the catacombs, but he’s completely unable to come back to the place until Baz is in danger/missing, because that’s where Baz was sad and talking about death.

Baz might make it more obvious than Simon because Simon doesn’t want to think about it at all, but there’s no escenario in which Simon would have been able to fight Baz for real. No “final fight” that would see him going “for the kill.” Even the sight of Baz’s eyes looking like “pools of pain” is unbearable for him.

No matter how much he has been molded to be a “boy soldier,” fighting creatures you don’t know, that you have been taught are two dimensional Evil, it’s completely different from fighting someone you do know. When there’s love, Simon can be combative, but he can’t fight. He can’t even if the right word is “attachment” (look at what happens with the mage, in a scenario where a fight would’ve broke out in a different fantasy book. All Simon can do is to ask for it to stop, to stop the hurt, even though words have never been his strength, even though he has been taught to always be “a man (boy) of action”). Said it before and I’ll said it again: I don’t even think Simon, trained fighter, was ever physically fighting Baz for real (because the goal was not to win or to survive, but to touch him, and just like a good athlete can suck in a match when they’re not in a right headspace… and Simon is regularly losing his shit around Baz…)

There’s so much that’s communicated with a simple move, when Simon takes the mage’s wand (aimed threateningly at Baz) and redirects it to his own heart. A threat to Baz is a threat to Simon’s heart.

#simon snow #snowbaz #baz pitch #simon snow trilogy #carry on #baz x simon #baz grimm pitch #simon x baz

93 notes · View notes

elvisabutler · 1 year

Note

i think there's still a few hours left for your gala, right?? 👁 if so, id like to request 💻 the angst prompt "no, im actually not ok," w austin.. maybe some h/c after the oscars? 🥺🙏

i don't know what i'm feeling

fandom: austin butler | elvis ( 2022 ) rating: g, t if you really squint. pairing: austin butler x gender neutral reader word count: 802 warnings: austin being sad post oscars. talk about the oscars. talk about the whale. author’s note: thank you anon and you were right i did have a few more hours when you sent this to me and was hoping someone would allow me the chance to do a hurt and comfort with this. full disclosure to everyone, i said it once before, if austin was going to lose to anyone, i did want it to be brendan because i was iffy on colin. however, i despise of the whale as a movie- and truly wish brendan had won for literally anything else. so do not take anything i have austin say as my own opinion on the movie itself. i hate it. this is for my 1k gala with the angst prompt of “no, i’m actually not ok.” and saints preserve me i'll live in my universe where i made this boy drunkenly say to his girl some nasty sexy things post oscar. also i'm not the biggest fan of this but i can't tell if that's purely because i'm in my own head about it or not. still hope you enjoy. also i didn't mess up my word count for the third time in all my gala pieces, what are you talking about.

It's an honor to be nominated. It's an honor to be put in the same league as actors who've been in the business for decades. It's an honor to be nominated along someone who's going to grow with him in their crafts. If he was going to lose to anyone everyone had said it was going to be him or Brendan and damn if he didn't think the man deserved it. The Whale was tough to watch but it was good- it was the sort of thing that earned an actor their Oscar. He shouldn't be- He shouldn't be feeling the way he does. Bill didn't get a single award all season and Colin went from a frontrunner with him to the afterthought along with Paul.

He can't even talk about this with Barry because it was always Ke's one to lose and he wasn't going to. Maybe Angela- but hadn't hers been wrapped in the grief from losing Chadwick. He still can't believe he heard Samuel L Jackson make a noise for him of all people behind him. He should be happy, this is the start of him finally making a difference. Making his fans proud and happy for him like Elvis. Making his mom proud that all her work wasn't for nothing. Making Lisa and Priscilla proud wasn't for nothing but why does he feel as if it was in this moment. Why is his brain just telling him this is how it starts? He'll have this whirlwind of three years and then three projects back to back to back only to have nothing afterward. Angela feels him tense a little- she must have because she looks at him and squeezes his hand once again before nodding over to you.

You- you can help ease his mind, once you're in the car he'll talk to you, whisper in your ear how this was not how he thought this night would go. His eyes meet yours and you smile gently before shrugging a little. He watches your lips mouth "love you" before he focuses on the last of the awards. It's a bit of organized chaos leaving the theater and it almost seems as if there's just an Elvis line of people walking around hand in hand like a bunch of kindergarteners before Austin and you finally get into a car and you squeeze his hand. "You okay?"

If it was anyone else, if it was Baz or Liv or Catherine or Kelvin or Luke- if it was anyone he'd lie. But you deserve the truth in a way that very few people do in this circumstance. "No, I'm actually not. I- I don't even know what I'm feeling. I'm mad but I shouldn't. I was nominated for an Oscar. I used to dream about this. I almost won an Oscar!"

"You have a Golden Globe! And a BAFTA!" You remind him, your voice matching his in volume before your hand moves to cup his cheek. There's a wet bit that you brush away with your thumb. "You're allowed to feel something, Austin. It doesn't make you a bad person or take away from Brendan's win because I know you, I know we're going to go the party and you're gonna see him and he's gonna give you a big dad hug and you're gonna gush. And you're gonna bounce up and down with Ke and make sure Baz doesn't drink too much because Catherine asked you too."

The laugh that bubbles up from him is wet sounding, covered in unshed tears as he sniffles. "Forgot how I'm gonna tell Luke about Polly making me do some moves for party tricks. And how Kelvin is going to remind me to-"

"Chill out?" You finish like that's actually what Austin was going to say before he shakes his head, allowing himself to just rest his head in your hand.

"Something like that. I just thought- I let my hopes get up." Austin whispers and you frown.

"No one blames you for that, you know. I don't. Tell you what. When we get to the party, how about we just sit in the car for a little bit until you calm down. And then when we get there, we just relax. Just for a little bit until you stop hurting so much. I'll shoo away the cameras with my charm." Austin raises an eyebrow knowing that isn't always how things go with you and him.

"Yeah? No fighting that'll get us both in trouble?"

"Pinky swear." You hold out your pinky as you move to kiss Austin. "Now, how about we focus on our plans for after tonight. I believe someone promised me a vacation?"

Austin's answer is a hum before he gives you another kiss. "How do you feel about the mountains?"

#austin butler #austin butler angst #austin butler x you #austin butler x reader #austin butler x y/n #austin butler fanfic #austin butler fluff #austin butler fanfiction #ally's 1k gala #ally writes

156 notes · View notes

mamaspresley · 2 years

Text

happy birthday | austinbutler

note reading this request killed me bruh who hurt u anon?? i asked the discord gc how i was even supposed to go about this... its so sad. but i love it. so here u go! wc 1,934 tw austin literally forgetting ur birthday. wtf.

req yes

austin was running around like crazy as of recently. it was the last few weeks of shooting so everything was falling into place, baz was starting to align all the scenes and everyone could begin to see everything coming together, but that also meant that the cast had even more pressure on them. everyone was excited to be done but they were also a little sad — austin had explained it as a bittersweet feeling, relieved that the stress of the last two years was finally coming to close, but upset that he would have to go back to a normal lifestyle, for what was normal for him.

you always took pride in austin’s work, he was a phenomenal actor and you supported him as much as you could, whether that be going to see his works or being there whenever he needed. it was difficult, at times though, when he’d be gone for long periods of time or threw himself so far into his work that he seemed to brush you off. it was often, and you knew he didn’t mean to ignore you, but it just happened naturally although usually it passed quickly. this time, though, was different.

you hadn’t spoken a real conversation with each other in about a week, you guessed, and hadn’t really seen him in days. you always knew he came home, you’d hear the door open late at night and felt him crawl into bed with you, but most times you were too tired, and so was he, to stay up and spend time with each other, so he’d greet you with a kiss to your shoulder and then pass out moments later. you missed your boyfriend, but you knew how seriously he took his career and had made the commitment to support him when you first got together. you couldn’t complain — technically, you had signed up for this.

it wasn’t until your birthday that you ever said anything.

“you’re so old now! i miss you.” you were on a call with your sister, pulling into your driveway as she was connected to the bluetooth in your car. “how is everything? got any big plans for your birthday?”

“yeah, actually. austin isn’t needed today so i think we’re gonna do something,” you answered, the smile on your face being your first genuine one in a while. you were excited to see your boyfriend, actually spend time with him for once in what felt like forever. “he’ll be done filming in a couple weeks but he’s been so busy lately, i feel like i haven’t seen him in years,” you explained, pressing the button to open your garage.

“that’s good. tell him i say hi. you still want me to come down for the premiere?”

“yeah, definitely. i’m going with him to cannes but whenever it gets to theatres here we’ll get you a ticket,” you said, glancing over as you noticed the second garage door lift open and austin’s car reverse out. “can i call you back in a bit? i just got home.”

“yeah, for sure. love you.”

“love you too.” you hung up with your sister, then honked your horn to grab austin’s attention. the boy looked over, and his lips curled into a soft smile as he lifted a hand to wave at you. he looked tired, hair wet from the shower you assumed he had just taken and his thin smile not quite reaching his eyes. he still looked as pretty as the day you’d met him so many years ago, but you knew he was exhausted. this movie was kicking the shit out of him, and more for his case than yours you couldn’t wait for it to be over.

you rolled your passenger window down, him following suit, and you leaned into the passenger seat as you yelled to him. “where are you going? i thought you had the day off.”

“baz just called, i guess he needs me to come and help him with piecing together a bit of the scenes,” austin explained, and you felt your heart drop a little in your chest. “shouldn’t be long, though. just a couple hours. i’ll be home for supper i think. you’re not working tonight, right?”

he forgot about your birthday. “no, i’m not.”

“okay, i’ll see you later then. i love you!” austin called, giving you a smile before continuing to back out of the driveway. he hadn’t even waited for you to say i love you back, and he had obviously forgotten why both of you had the day off.

you tried to shake it off as you pulled into the garage, and up into the house. you were greeted by your pup, who jumped on you as soon as you walked in the door and barked up at you. at least someone remembered your birthday. “hi, baby,” you cooed, a smile forming on your face as you knelt down to play with the small puppy.

you spent the rest of the day not doing much, watching netflix and answering calls or texts from your friends and family who reached out to tell you happy birthday. by the time six o’clock came around, you were starving so you made yourself something light to eat in case austin came home. it was ten o’clock by the time you realized, and you had nothing better to do so you went upstairs to take a shower and get ready for bed.

by the time you were getting out of the shower, your towel wrapped around you and toothbrush in hand, you heard the main door downstairs open and close, and you sighed. you wanted him to come home but to be honest, you were dreading it. it hurt, austin forgetting your birthday, but you tried to ignore the feeling as best you could. you continued brushing your teeth, hearing austin yell into the house, “y/n? you up, baby?”

you spat out the toothpaste, calling back to him. “upstairs!” moments later you heard his footsteps walking into the bedroom, and the sliding door into your bathroom opened, revealing austin with his dark hair and grey sweatpants, a white t-shirt, and eyes circled dark with eyeliner. you looked up at him, speaking through your toothbrush. “you had to film today?”

“yeah, baz wanted me to retake a couple things,” he explained, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. you mumbled something, finishing up before washing your face and moving into your closet to change. by the time you walked back out, wearing only a t-shirt of austin’s, he was lying in bed, shirt off with his sweatpants hanging low on his hips as he laid on his stomach, scrolling through his phone. you said nothing as you crawled into bed, reaching over to turn the light off.

“you okay?” austin asked, not glancing up from his phone but offering a hand, reaching over as he draped his arm around your chest, rubbing your shoulder.

“mhm.” you rolled over onto your side, back facing him. it was then that he looked over at you, but you couldn’t see. he retracted his hand and went back to his phone, deciding to ignore it. you were probably just tired.

it wasn’t until filming was done, austin technically being completely finished with the project, that he realized he had missed your birthday. it was the first day he had nothing to do, when he was lounging around the house all day, waiting for you to get home.

that day was olivia’s birthday. he had reached out to her first thing in the morning, texting her that he wishes her a good day, and that’s when it hit him. your birthday was just about a month before olivia’s, but he couldn’t remember doing anything for it. that’s because he forgot.

laying back in bed, austin ran his face over his hands. fuck. he was an idiot. he glanced over to your side of the bed, sheets still tangled from when you had gotten up and gone to work hours before without a word. usually you kissed him goodbye, or he’d do the same to you depending on who left first, but you hadn’t done that in a while. austin didn’t think much of it until he realized why.

this wasn’t something that he felt comfortable just texting you about, so he decided to wait until you got home. he had gone out and bought some groceries and things he needed, having a plan on how he would surprise you. it was about 6:30 when you got home, finally, austin felt like he had been waiting forever. as soon as he heard the garage door open, he scrambled into the kitchen, grabbing the bouquet of roses he had bought earlier, and positioned himself leaning against the island counter. he felt stupid, but he felt stupider knowing that he had forgotten something as big as this — and gone weeks without realizing, mind you.

“hi, my love,” austin greeted as you walked into the living area. you paused, your feet frozen in place as you looked

at him, dressed in black jeans and a black long sleeve, hair recently dyed back to his natural sandy blonde. he held red roses in his hands, a nice contrast to the all black he wore. “how was work?”

“it was fine… what is this?” he had candles on the table in the middle of the room, a nice smell of something cooking on the stove, and the lights in your house were dimmed slightly, the night sky doing nothing to light up the room save for the moonlight.

“it’s a… birthday present,” he said, and when you looked back at him, you could see the nervous look on his face. austin wasn’t a generally nervous person, as far as being uncertain of himself went. you could tell this was eating at him, though, and you felt your heart skip as a beat as he began walking towards you. “i’m sorry.”

you dropped your purse to the floor, pressing your lips into a line.

“i’m the worst person in the world,” he said, placing the roses on the table next to the candles and reached out, cupping your face in his hands. “i love you. and i’m sorry i forgot your birthday. i’m a fucking idiot and i don’t understand how you haven’t gotten right pissed off at me yet. i don’t deserve you.”

you didn’t say anything, just accepted the hug that he offered you. austin held your head to his chest, his fingers moving to run through your hair soothingly. you could hear his heart beating only inches away from your ear, and you closed your eyes. “i love you too,” you mumbled, fisting at his shirt. “but i am mad at you. a little bit.”

“why do you think i cooked and got you flowers and ran you a bubble bath?”

“you ran me a bubble bath?” you asked, pulling away from the boy. he nodded, and you pouted your lower lip before standing on your tippy toes to press a kiss to his lips. austin didn’t let you pull away so soon, though, as he moved a hand to your jaw, holding you firmly as he bent down and kissed you back deeply. your tongues danced with each other, lips wet and soft as your breath mixed together and you couldn’t remember the last time he had kissed you like this. “is there room for you in the tub, too?” you questioned, pulling away from him.

austin licked his lips, eyes cloudy as he chuckled. “i’m sure we can make room,” he mumbled, lips finding yours once more as he deepened the kiss again.

➳ @mesbouquins @reeldeal @suspiciousbutler @sagesolsticewrites @shimmeringlights44 @bonzaiblitzz @butlersbitxh @floralcyanide @sassy-ahsoka-tano @austin-butlers-gf @anangelwhodidntfall @she-is-juniper @butler-on-beale-street

#austin butler #austin butler fic #austin butler fanfic #austin butler imagine #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #elvis presley #baz luhrmann #jackie writes #mamaspresley

675 notes · View notes

original-character-championship · 1 year

Text

Bracket A Round 1 First Half Results!!!

This first wave of polls has been chaotic and filled with propaganda, even from unexpected sources (Thank you everyone who drew fanart of any of the characters!!!) but unfortunately, it has come to an end! You could simply check the bracket, or even look up the polls for the results, but where would be the fun in that?

Poll 1

Nova Williams the alien child won against Baz the kitten brainworm with a 74% to 26%!!! guess they didn't succeed in spreading enough brainworms

Poll 2

Cat against rat! Cat Hax the cat robot managed to catch Snoodle Rattigan the rat priest with 59% to his 41%!! May he end up in rat heaven.

Poll 3

Spaventapasseri the hot pathetic dilf completely SWEPT the Scientist with nearly 75% of votes! Did he have the support of the hero commission? who knows!

Poll 4

Joan Church managed to beat Starus the epic :3 with 60% of votes against his nearly 40% with the power of christian trauma (and this cool armour) !!!

Poll 5

Friendships have been forged, alliances nearly made, but, in the end, Max didn't manage to tie with Nigel Nigel, who won with nearly 53% of the votes against her 47%! However, these two guitar players have finished the closest to one another out of all the brackets, with only a 6% difference - not even 21 votes!! In the spirit of the crossover art, I am offering them the choice of a team up!! @spw-art @bjursta do you want to start a band?

Poll 6

Jasper the buggirl has won against Soso the plant zombie with 65% of votes! Soso should've brought a pesticide :(

Poll 7

Despite enormous amounts of propaganda, Cal the cat mcr stan has lost against Destruction the robot nurse with not even 40% of votes against her 60%! The support for girls who assist in medical malpractice was just too strong <3

Poll 8

Theodore Aphelion III couldn't get the percentage of votes to his favourite number (57) and lost against Celiry Stik! I am giving him an orange so he doesn't feel so sad that he only got 35% of votes

Poll 9

Valentine the genderweird werewolf musician won against Pup the genderfluid demon with 70% of the votes! This fight was very gender I want what both of them have.

Poll 10

Mic Michaelson the evil game show host managed to beat Avery the pathetic wet godfather! What can I say, 58% of people love mushrooms and only 42% of people love depressed parental figures

Poll 11

Sister Virtue - Theophania managed to exorcise the lovecore demon Amadeo Kenzie despite the protection provided by A Lot of propaganda and gained 64% of the votes! This poll got the most votes out of all the polls (614!!!) which is almost double the average (a little above 300)

Poll 12

Garner - Caelum the demigod antihero won against Allara Foln! I suppose it is harder to beat a demigod than ancient robots, but she still managed to get more than 32% of the votes!

Poll 13

Stephanie Silvers the he/him lesbian beat BOB the KILLER-REMEMBER with 69(nice)% of the votes!!! The beauty of a pink stick figure apparently didn't win our voters over :(

Poll 14

The large amount of propaganda worked for Kirk "Chinook" Raymond, as he beat Madea Whitewistle with over 73% of the votes! I would also like to apologize to Madea for misspelling her name multiple times, even though I have always managed to catch it in time.

Poll 15

In a battle of cute creachers, only one can win, and this time it was Valrik the living stuffed animal! He beat (night)Core the Halloween spirit with over 55% of votes!

Poll 16

Neither the power of religious trauma nor propaganda worked for Mattias Bishop, who lost against Black the furry wolf boy with not even 45% votes :(

#oc championship #round 1 #bracket a #results

82 notes · View notes

pukner · 10 months

Text

Baz | part two

a steddyhands twt thread turned oneshot

|| Rated Gen || Stede and Ed take a brief vacation to visit Stede's family, and find a surprise.

part one / part two

It's a small shack, nearly a cottage, nestled neatly by the edge of the jungle, where few wander. The path is clearly only walked by a few.

It's-- nice. Like a dream someone else might've had. It's certainly never occurred to Ed to dream of a place like this for himself-- small and unassuming, nothing particularly fine or exciting or remarkable about it.

There's a girl, with a riot of blond hair pulled back into a ponytail, going through various fighting drills in the garden. Dressed practically, sturdy boots and worn trousers. Her movements are as familiar to Ed as his own. Which makes sense, considering who taught Ed the finer points of using a sword.

There's a boy sitting by the porch, and next to him is a man, cane propped up next to him.

He looks good, is the thing. Less strain around the eyes. Older, thinner, less muscle tone. But there's something softer around his mouth. Something gentle about his eyes. He looks up at the exact moment the girl does.

His eyebrows fly up. Ed doesn't know what his face is doing.

"Dad!" say the kids as one, looking moderately pleased.

"Childr--wait, Izzy?" yells Stede, flabbergasted. Which is fair.

"Jesus Christ," says Iz, looking resigned, "Fucking Mary."

"You cursed again!" says Louis, delighted.

"And I won't stop," says Iz, flatly. Then, quietly, "Ed."

"Iz," says Ed.

"Did you know," Stede hisses, rounding on Ed.

"I figured it out the second she said he was a terrible gossip," Ed says, pitching his voice so it would carry.

Izzy's face loses that strange, sad cast and scowls, "I've never gossiped a day in my life, Edward Teach."

"But you do?" says Louis, innocently.

Yeah, like, all the time," says Alma, "with Miss Evelyn and mum, you guys get drunk and--"

"Alright," says Izzy, in the same tone as when the crew gets too uppity, "Why don't we head inside for some fucking drinks. Jesus."

He leans heavy on his cane as he walks. Ed watches him, wonders what human flesh tastes like. Stede looks at him, can clearly read the thought on his face, and pulls him along. The kids are told to stay outside. Grown-up talks, says Iz, and he sounds like a dad. It's hilarious.

It must be said, Ed's extremely fucking confused. He's never seen Iz like this; all unbuttoned and relaxed. No sword at his hip.

He pulls out a bottle of whiskey.

"It's barely noon," says Stede.

"I'm not having this conversation sober."

"You wanna talk?" says Ed, hopefully.

Iz levels him with an expression of supreme judgment. Ed's really missed his bitchy little face. He also realizes that Stede has a very similar bitchy little face. Is his type just bitchy little men? Is this why he broke up with Jack?

They end up at the table, day drinking.

"I'm not going back," Izzy says, firmly. He seems like a different man. Ed thinks his heart might be breaking. Some horrid, cruel part of him hates Izzy for getting better without him there.

Then, abruptly, he realizes that this is the exact same horrid feeling Iz had about Stede. Silence, again.

"The children seem to like you," Stede says, apropos of nothing.

"They're good kids. That Alma's going to be terrifying one day."

"I don't doubt it," says Stede, "I've heard good things about your beets, by the way."

Iz looks at Ed, baffled. Ed shrugs. Maybe Stede just really likes beets.

"We've been thinking about visiting the children more often," Stede goes on, in that weird airy tone of his, "More shore leaves."

"...we have?" says Ed.

"Yes, Edward," says Stede, pointedly. Ed doesn't give a rat's ass about the children. He nods anyway.

"...good for you?" says Iz, confused, "I don't care?"

Stede nudges Ed. Ed nudges him back. Stede stares at him.

Wait, oh. "Can we visit?" asks Ed.

"Why would you want to?" asks Iz, "You fucking hate being on land."

"I'd do it for you," Ed says.

Izzy blinks, startled. That hurts. He deserves it, though.

"Because you love me," he says, slowly.

"And I've unfortunately grown somewhat fond of you," Stede adds, in the manner of someone delivering some very bad news.

"What," says Izzy.

"My fault," says Ed.

"I don't feel murderous rage when I look at you anymore," Izzy informs Stede, "That's all you're getting."

"I'll take it," says Stede, looking determined.

Ed knows that look. Doggedly determined, this one. Iz is about to be wooed. No idea what he's just signed up for, poor guy.

Nothing's been solved, of course. Ed still tastes blood in his mouth, Izzy's never going to walk the same again, Stede still has very little idea of how deep this whole thing goes. But it's a start.

Outside, the kids are laughing. Iz has eased up, doesn't look so small.

"So," says Ed, grinning all shit-eating. Because they haven't solved it, and he'll never be his First Mate again, but Ed has permission to try. Which is a big improvement from Past Tense Iz, "Tell me about your beets, Iz."

"Shut the fuck up, Ed," says Iz, but he's grinning back.

They'll be fine. Or, they'll eventually be fine. They'll get there.

And, actually, someone should do something about the Mary-Jackie alliance. Can't let that go unsupervised. Imagine the fucking havoc they'd wreak.

End

#my writing #my fic #steddyhands #omfd #steddyhands fic #our flag means death #omfd fic #edward teach #stede bonnet #izzy hands #bazfic #part two

47 notes · View notes

mooodyblue · 7 months

Note

🍼 - "I can't do this. I can't-- I can't-- I can't--" blurb with little!aus? Like he's on set for the elvis movie and he's so nervous since he just wants to do Elvis' legacy justice, he just slips in front of Baz and everyone, going back to his trailer, panicking and not knowing what to do while we aren't there- since only the actors are allowed on set and baz gets worried for aus so he ends up calling us since aus won't open the trailer for him. (I'm not English, so I'm sorry for the spelling mistakes.)

your english is great!!! ty for the request! 🫶🏼

1k celeb post (closed)

austin was always the shy, anxious type. especially when it came to his roles. the day he got the call about being casted for elvis, he was overjoyed. but now that he actually had to act and become elvis? he was terrified. there were so many things that could go wrong.

he read the books, watched the documentaries and all of his movies, but still, what if he didn't get it right? he'd never hear the end of it.

it was only day one on the set and they had him shooting the comeback special, the biggest scene in the movie. he'd paced back and forth in his apartment the night before complaining to you about how insane it was to even film that scene first. they couldn't give him an easier scene on day one?

you weren't allowed on set and you wished you were. you wanted to be there to cheer him on.

austin stood there in his leather suit, standing at the entrance as he waited for them to call him up on the tiny lit up stage. his nerves were all over the place, the leather was already sticking to his skin uncomfortably—was this how elvis actually felt?

"...and...action!"

the room went silent, everyone was standing and doing what they were supposed to do. but austin couldn't move. he just stood there, unsure of what he was supposed to do. his mind and body just went blank.

baz yelled cut and suddenly everyone was looking at austin, wondering what was going on. "austin?" he walked up to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "hey, what is it?" he asked with a soft tone. austin shifted his gaze to him, his eyes beginning to water as he quickly ushered off set and out of the building.

he refused to let anyone see him cry.

austin locked himself in his trailer, undoing some of the buttons of his suit and crying softly into his hands. his brain had shut down, all he wanted was you.

baz was knocking at his door, desperately trying to not grow frustrated as they were on a schedule. but it was day one, he was cutting the poor boy some slack. he was budging though which left him no choice but to call you in hopes you'd be able to somehow calm him down and back on set.

the trailer door opened at the sound of your voice, allowing both you and baz to come inside the small trailer.

"aus?" you shut the door behind you as baz sat beside him on the sofa. "what's going on?"

austin shook his head, a pillow clutched tightly to his chest. "i can't do this." he sniffled. "i can't—i can't—i can't—" his stuttering turned into hiccuped sobs.

baz rubbed at his back, unsure of what was going on with austin. you crouched down to his level with a soft expression, taking one of his hands and squeezing it softly. "hey, hey. look at me, baby." you cooed.

"i can't do it, momma." he hiccuped. "i can't."

"yes you can, aus." you reassured. "you're gonna do so good, you've been rehearsing and working hard. you'll do great, i promise you."

"hey kid–" baz turned to look at austin. "we'll take it slow, alright? we'll take it easy, we'll go at your pace."

austin looked at baz then at you then back at baz. "can...can momma be there too?"

you gave him a sad smile, "i'm not allowed on set—"

baz shut you down quickly. "ah, i'll make an exception." he nodded at austin, patting his knee. "your momma can come join us, it's no worry at all. you wanna come back out and try again?"

he wiped at his own eyes, nodding shyly. "y-yeah...yeah. okay."

"i'm so proud of you, baby. you're gonna kill it." you grinned, kissing his cheek as austin let out a excited squeal. "let's get you back on set, aus."

#austin x reader #1k celeb

22 notes · View notes

charleswatford · 1 year

Text

sometimes I picture little 15 year old Baz reading Interview with the Vampire and laugh. can you imagine reading that, of all books, to try and find yourself? find community or answers? not in the metaphorical, homo-erotic subtext way I'm meaning reading about the child vampire turning into a manipulative maniac and the sad wet dog of a main character having to sit there and take it. what the fuck. my poor boy.

#personally i dont think it was the worst of his issues but it couldnt have helped #the only worse thing i can think of simon reading it #obviously theres differences bc of the whole not againg thing w claudia but come on that must have stung #anyway idk if my posts still get traction bc i love dissappearing but i have been Having Thoughts on this #thank u for tuning into my rant #snowbaz #carry on rainbow rowell #baz pitch

82 notes · View notes

rabidline · 1 year

Photo

2022 East Japan Sectionals - November 5, 2022 Marin Honda → Music from “Moulin Rouge!” : Nature Boy/Ascension, Hindi Sad Diamonds, One Day I’ll Fly Away, Closing Credits: Bolero, produced by Baz Luhrmann, choreographed by Kenji Miyamoto

#marin honda #figure skating #fs #east japan sectionals #east japan sectionals 2022 #season: 2022 2023 #this is becoming a series

96 notes · View notes

fatalfangirl · 11 months

Text

I have had lots going on, none of it writing (although I will get to do some of that this weekend). But I have been reading! Mostly listening really, via the app Natural Reader because most of my fic consumption lately is on the go.

Anyway, it's been ages since I last did a fic rec post, so I thought is was time!

keep on keeping on - Mature - by waveydnp

Oh. My. God. I love this fic SO MUCH. Written pre-AWTWB, it dives into explorations of intimacy and trust and love and family in a way that manages to capture similar vibes to portions AWTWB while taking us so much deeper. @cutestkilla recommended this fic to me and said it best that "it's like the author took the intimacy arc from AWTWB and stretched it out like taffy to take place over months instead of a week." It is so incredibly sweet and sexy and comforting with dialogue feels easy and real. One of my new favorite fics of all time.

Hold You Close Just Like a Photograph - Explicit - by @skeedelvee

I actually read this fic a while back, but I still think about it all the time. Watford era fic set over the summer, it takes us through Simon awakening feelings toward Baz in such a clever way. It makes me really feel for Simon as he moves between lashing out at the idea of Baz to finding comfort in him to accepting he wants him. Looking back on the fic now, I ended up doing a double take at the word count because in my mind there was no way this much story could happen in 3.5k but the numbers don't lie. It's a quick read that will stay with you!

true love, and other curses - Teen - by fizzingwhizbee

I have never seen Practical Magic, but I didn't need to in order to fully fall in love with this fic. Recommended to me by @shrekgogurt as a fic to keep me company on a travel day, this witchy AU finds Baz helping Simon bury a body and falling in love despite his best efforts not to. There's a climax action scene that is incredibly well written and had me on the edge of my (airline) seat. The boys are so soft for each other in this and by the end I just wanted to wrap them up in a blanket made of Baz's jumpers and whisper "you both deserve happiness."

Eight Months (forever) - Explicit - by @facewithoutheart

It's mpreg. I love it. Christina is a gift to this fandom and never ceases to amaze me with her range. The story takes us month by month through Baz's pregnacy and does such an amazing job of telling a fully fleshed out story even while a good chunk of it happens off page. I binged it while having a stressful week and it gave me the exact dose of "everything will be alright" that I needed. Shout out to Fathers and Suns by @captain-aralias for bringing this fic to my attention (and also for being an mpreg I am loving).

Coming to a Head - Explicit - by imjusthereforthefreefood

I love the way this author writes about connection through acts of intimacy. Like, I love it so much. Their fics always feel so human - there's so many layers - and this AU featuring caterer Simon working a dinner at Baz's family home. So much is explored in this story. Fears, loneliness, bitterness, longing for acceptance and understanding. And it all takes place over a single night. A single meeting of two strangers who let themselves find open up about the sad and accept a moment of something good.

Thank you to the folks who tagged me today (@rimeswithpurple, @martsonmars, @hushed-chorus, @larkral, @wellbelesbian, and @blackberrysummerblog) I look forward to diving into your posts!

It's getting late, so just tagging the folks above and waving hello to a few others: @you-remind-me-of-the-babe, @moodandmist, @bookish-bogwitch, @aristocratic-otter, and @artsyunderstudy.

#thank you fic writers for all that you do #fic rec #i still have such a huge tbr list because this fandom is a gold mine

39 notes · View notes

moodandmist · 1 year

Text

WIP WEDNESDAY (plus a fic rec!!)

(the way I just spent so much time beating myself into posting and then almost said "who cares" and deleted it. literally screaming at my own brain.)

Oh boy, well as usual, I was not prepared but feel inspired by you all. I've missed a ton of tags lately for lots of wonderful shares and tag games, and I'm so sorry.

After @cutestkilla and I gifted our song to Pati last week (linked at the bottom if you haven't heard it yet!) I started working on another song.

This is a cover of an old favorite, All I Have to do is Dream by The Everly Brothers. I wanted the song on the playlist for my WIP fic, currently known as sad!Baz, but couldn't find a version that felt as helpless, depressing and full of agonizing longing as I needed. 🫠 So...just trying to do it myself.

How do you transform a song, made to showcase gorgeous harmonies, into its most depressing version?? How about slow it down, strip it back and take away the harmonies so it's obvious just how alone you are in this deep pit of despair and longing. (sorry Baz, "it helps to hurt the most")

This is very rough, just literally kinda free styling vocals, (and not hitting notes, messing up Uke fingerings) and seeing what works.

Also I can NOT stop thinking about a particular scene in What's Left, by @cutestkilla while working on this song. (If you've read the fic you know. The hotel bed, waking from dreams. 😭❤️) And right away I was like, screw my playlist this should be a gift for Dre...but Dre is also the person I've been sending messages to non-stop about how to make this song work 🤣 so...not much of a surprise there. Dre, I'm publicly declaring this song will be dedicated to you and that scene. ❤️

INCREDIBLE FIC REC If you haven't read What's Left. Please don't let the tags scare you away. This fic has changed me as a person. It is beautiful!! Do not miss out!

Gift Song by @cutestkilla and me, for @aristocratic-otter.

Thanks for tags lately and new tags: @fatalfangirl @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @whatevertheweather @cutestkilla @bookish-bogwitch @skeedelvee @whogaveyoupermission @artsyunderstudy @chen-chen-chen-again-chen @shrekgogurt @yellobb @palimpsessed @aristocratic-otter @martsonmars @johnwgrey @ic3-que3n @ileadacharmedlife @forabeatofadrum @facewithoutheart @jbrrring @raenestee @basiltonbutliketheherb @aroace-genderfluid-sheep @confused-bi-queer and probably so many more. I'm not good at juggling things lately.

#very rough early stages #all I have to do is dream #cover #snowbaz #the Everly brothers #fic rec #cutestkilla #cutekilla #what's left

42 notes · View notes

azsazz · 1 year

Text

Cuddle Me In

Azriel x Reader (Jax Centric)

Summary: Anon Request: I LOVE YOUR DADDY!AZRIEL FICS!!!! CAN YOU MAKE ONE ABOUT JAXS CUDDLES WHEN HIS MOMMY IS SAD

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 1,881

Notes: I think Jax might just be an empath...

_________________________________________

It was just one of those days.

One where nothing seemed to be working in your favor.

You had hardly gotten any sleep due to Malos’ incessant crying, though why she was so upset you had no idea.

The loud wails of your youngest daughter, in turn, had her twin brother wide awake as well. Though Knox was normally a very calm babe, the continued distress of his sister was disturbing him from his spot in his cradle next to hers.

Not even your mate could calm her, with his gentle fingers brushing through her hair, cooing softly at her while you held Knox. The both of you had been so worried that he’d even taken her to see a healer, uncaring that it was the middle of the night. He took off with Malos bundled close to his chest, you and Knox watching them grow smaller and smaller.

The healer hadn’t been able to find anything wrong with the tiny babe, and Azriel had returned with a teary eyed Malos, whom he had hoped would fall asleep on the flight back.

No such luck.

For hours the two of you tried, exhausted and near hysterical as you watched your daughter wailing her little head off, the both of their shadows swirling around the twins, agitated.

It had been that she was too far away from her brother, you both found out when you had noticed the way that their shared shadows had reached out to each other. The babes immediately settled when they were together in their bassinet, tucked up close to one another as if protecting the other.

You and Azriel only shared a sigh of relief as you quickly slid back into the cold bed, hoping for a restful few hours of sleep before the rest of your brood awoke.

______

Baz, in his true nature, was the one to wake you up.

Azriel had awoken with a start, his shadows hissing to him of the second oldest standing at your side of the bed, ready to rouse you from sleep.

But he was too late to stop him, as Baz shook your arm gently with a sad mewl, “Mommy?”

“Hm?” you hummed, blinking your eyes open as your heart picked up in your chest at the sound of one of your terrified children. “Baz?”

“I had a bad dream,” his voice quivers and you’re quick to tug him up into bed with you and Azriel, the shadowsinger cocooning the three of you in his warm wings, a shield that would help calm Baz, sandwiching the little lad between the two of you.

You brushed the boy’s hair back from his forehead, “Do you want to tell us what it was about, love?”

He stared at the ceiling for a moment as his lip wobbled at the thought, “Well Wrennie told me about a scary monster that lives out in the woods,” you share a look with your mate, “and I was all alone out there mommy! Not my brothers and sisters, not you or daddy, just me and the ugly beast!”

You rub his back as Azriel talks Baz down, trying his best to calm the terrified little boy. The soothing pattern you’re stroking into his back combined with the warmth of your mate’s wing and the low baritone sound of Azriel’s voice lulls you back to sleep.

_____

Azriel had been summoned away for the morning, so you were in charge of breakfast for your six children.

Which was normally fine except that you had hardly gotten any sleep, had zero reinforcements, and your children were feeling particularly naughty today.

You truly did not think that you had the energy for this today, though being a mother never took a day off.

All you’d like to do is crawl back between your sheets and sleep for a while, get the energy back that had evaded you from your night of unrest. Each shout, clang of a utensil, hand smacking against the table has you tensing further and further, unnaturally irritated with your unruly children.

Jax, the most empathetic of the six, tugs on the leg of your pants, reaching his hands up when you glance down at him, signaling to you that he would like to be picked up.

“Hi Jax,” you can’t help but give him a soft smile, “What are you doing?”

He shakes his hands again, grabbing the air with tiny fists. You know exactly what he wants, but he was one of the quieter children you had, and you and Azriel were more than a bit concerned when you realized that Jax wasn’t quite as outgoing as his siblings, tending to stick to you or him in favor of being around any of the other family that had known him since birth.

This was your way of prompting the young boy to use his words to ask for what he wanted instead.

Jax blinks up at you once, before his face contorts into a pout. Your body tenses, ready for the little boy to start wailing, something he excelled at.

Thankfully, he doesn’t. He doesn’t look happy as you move your attention from him to the pancakes you’re flipping before you, nearly ready to be served to the hungry bunch chittering away at the table behind you, the other five lined up in their chairs eagerly.

“Up.”

You raise an eyebrow, plating the breakfasts, “Up what?”

His soft huff is entertaining, “Up please.”

“There’s my good boy,” you beam, smiling down at your son as you pick him up and tuck him against your hip. You plant a loud kiss to his cheek that causes the pout to disappear and giggles to bubble up out of him, and you feel a bit lighter because of it.

Until Wren and Baz start arguing.

You hardly know what it’s about, don’t even care because you’re so drained from last night.

The two boys don’t listen to your commands for them to cut it out and calm down. Not even your threat of telling their father stops them from yelling at each other this time, and that trick always worked. Their faces are so red you’re worried they aren’t even breathing through their screams.

Next to Baz, Zuzu is covering her ears with her hands, an annoyed look on her face while she stares you down, waiting for you to end the fight.

It seems as if Malos wants in on it too, babbling loudly in their direction. She hadn’t seemed to have enough screaming and crying for the night and deems now the perfect chance to join in.

You clutch Jax tighter, shutting your eyes for a moment and trying to block out the sounds of your children, if only for a moment, as Jax yells from your arms at them to stop. Their arguing grates against your skull, and your eyes burn with lack of sleep. You so badly wish to handle this like a rational parent but you’re about to snap–

“Wren, Baz,” a familiar voice calls, and your shoulders slacken with relief immediately, “What are you two arguing about?”

Azriel had chosen to return at the perfect time, sensing your utter frustration down the bond. He shoots you a worried glance but you smile stiffly, turning back to the plates loaded up with pancakes for your children.

The two boys fall silent, cheeks rosy under the stern stare of their father.

Neither of them dares speak.

Azriel is quick to solve the matter and meet you in the kitchen where you’re leaning against the counter with Jax cuddled close in your arms, breathing in his fresh scent of sandalwood and citrus, uncaring about the cooling pancakes on the plates for the awaiting children.

“Come here buddy,” Azriel says softly, opening his arms up for Jax, “Let’s let mommy relax for a bit, yeah?”

“No,” Jax protests, and his arms clasped around your neck tighten, “Mommy!”

“It’s okay, Az,” you respond softly, enjoying the feeling of the cuddles you’re receiving. You rest your head atop Jax’s and Azriel’s eyes soften at the both of you.

He nods, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek and then Jax’s. His hand is a warm caress at the base of your spine and you’re hit again with just how tired you really are.

“Why don’t you and Jax go eat breakfast in bed,” he offers, sliding the pancakes from your plate onto Jax’s and handing it over to you, “I’ll feed the rest and get them ready for the day. Cassian said he and Nesta would watch them for a bit.”

You bite back your grin. Cassian was always one to offer up his help, though every time you arrived to pick your children back up he looked like he’d been to hell and back, swearing he’d never watch them again.

You loved him for it.

“Thank you,” you murmur, letting Jax take a pancake to munch on while you give Azriel a peck on the lips, “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” he murmurs, giving you a soft, admiring smile.

“I love you, too,” Jax exclaims around his mouthful of breakfast.

You share a laugh, readjusting him on your hip as you retreat from the chaos that is the morning meal.

You and Jax cuddle up in your large bed and you instantly relax, quietly eating the pancakes while enjoying each other's company.

He is so much like Azriel, quiet in nature but rational and empathetic. The way he’d clung to you moments before his brothers started arguing as if he knew that you would need a calming presence if you weren’t going to snap at them.

You definitely were but it was the thought that counted.

Azriel appears some time later, when the other children have all eaten and are ready for the day, his shadows keeping watch as Wren helps his siblings get their shoes and coats on right while he goes to retrieve Jax.

He finds you and your fourth in a comforting embrace, Jax curled up into your side as you read him his favorite book.

He can’t help but to admire the sight, heart swelling with the utmost love as he watches the two of you together.

Feeling that warmth fill your body down to your bones draws your attention to the door.

“I’ve just come for the little one,” Azriel says softly, like if he’s too loud he’ll break the cloak of peace the both of you have created.

“I want to stay with mommy,” Jax frowns, clutching your shirt tighter.

Azriel looks to you for confirmation but how can you say no when your baby is making a face like that? Pulling on your heartstrings because he’s already such a caring boy.

“I think we’re both enjoying our time together too much to move,” you smile at your mate, resting your temple in Jax’s soft hair.

Azriel’s smile sets your heart fluttering, “Alright then. I’m taking the other’s to Cassians. I’ll come check on the two of you a little later, maybe bring you some lunch?”

“Spoiling us?” you grin up at your mate.

“Always, my love,” he responds, leaning down to tuck you both in and give you a sweet kiss on the lips, “Always.”

#Azriel #azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel/reader #azriel/you #acotar #acowar #acomaf #acotarxreader #jax #acotar next gen #daddyaz #daddy!az #daddy!azriel #azsazz

718 notes · View notes