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#witnessing something precious
resonancewitness · 3 months
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Falling down the rabbit hole (or was it the lion’s den?), becoming a turtle 
I have to admit that I owe getting to know about yizhan to a completely unrelated fictional character. Blame it all on Yoshikazu Miyano and his obsession with BL manga :)
The story of Sasaki and Miyano (manga/ anime by Shou Harusono) reminded me of some of my own personal untold stories and led me to writing fanfiction — creative retelling of the canon story in the form of first-person narrative. It was easier to do Sasaki’s POV first, but to write a companion piece from Miyano’s POV, I had to do writer’s research on BL, which was mainly out of my orbit before (except for some great Harry/Draco stories I read, gosh, more than 15 years ago).
Reading and watching BL led to Netflix recommending me tgcf donhua. The sense of “wow, this is something special” led to purchasing the books and watching “The Untamed”, digging up fandom(dot) com while waiting for the books to be delivered. I have been learning Chinese recently, so I also started to try to read the manhuas. 
Watching “The Untamed” was a very special experience. Something was there, in the playing of it, that rang truer than mere acting. I could not name it, what it was, but I could tell that I can recognise something genuine, authentic and exceptionally beautiful. I could not leave it be, it was like this feeling of “really real and special” was calling out to me, leaving me with questions I felt the need to find answers to. 
The Facebook algorithm, which is too clever for its own good, but to which I owe some really good recommendations, started showing me reels made of cql bts footage. What a beautiful mess these reels are. Exceptionally befuddling. Sometimes obviously altered — cut, edited and mistranslated. I understood that there are more where those came from, and spent some time on Youtube. It is to a significant extent a clickbait-ey and money-hungry garbage dump, but I was lucky to see some long unedited fancam footage from the first big fanmeet and from the t-cent award night at the end of 2019. 
The thing that turned me into a bona fide turtle, I think, was
watching the way one’s face transformed when the other arrived at the t-cent award night, and the way their movements synchronized, and the body language at the fanmeet. I have not been a counsellor for longer than the younger of them is alive (scary to say that, I feel old :)) for nothing. I do read body language very well and I can tell genuine expressions from schooled ones. And I can tell a good relationship from a bad or non-existent one.
I saw that what I was witnessing was something precious, exceptional; each of them looked at the other as if the other was a miracle — undeserved, stunning, adored, beautiful, worthy of all love possible.
And then it was time for the “Tomorrow Will Be Better” recording, which I witnessed as the footage appeared. I saw that the resonance between them was still there, even if they weren't physically side by side. I could see that what they have has been transforming them, making them into better people, expanding inwardly, as beautiful in their inner worlds as their outward appearance is beautiful. And at the same time, I knew by then they could be silly and playful and dirty-minded, which I also appreciate a lot in people. Very human, very genuine, very pure in unexplainable ways. Capable of overcoming difficulties without becoming jaded or conceited.
And yes, I can tell where and when what I am reading into what I am seeing is my own collection of projections and inferences, — and where and when it isn't.
I felt that my world has become brighter when I got to know about these brilliant young men. Their steadfastness and earnest commitment to choose what is worth doing, and to do it to the best of their ability, gives me hope. 
I wanted to know more about them, to sort the edited versions from the real story as it had happened.
And so I found that there is a whole international community of people who treasure an untold story and carefully put it together to confirm what they felt in their hearts as true. And some part of the most thoughtful and careful core of the international part of this community is here on Tumblr. 
This is an exceptional phenomenon — a community of readers of an untold story, for whom this story is so important that they hold on to it for years, reconstructing it from tiny crumbs, without much hope of ever entering into true, deep, expanded dialogue with the heroes/authors of the real thing. The readers that are themselves, obviously, transformed in some important ways, quite possibly — very precious ways. Sharing the resonant values with the heroes/ authors. Creating beautiful friendships with each other across distance and differences. Paying it forward. 
I am happy I have found the turtles. I am happy I got to know about yizhan. 
The resonance I felt seeing their eyes and smiles, was something so unusual that I felt an urge to make sense of what I was feeling. I created this space to write my reflections. Maybe something that I write will make sense not only to me. 
If there are errors in what I write, please kindly forgive me. English is not my first language. 
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starflungwaddledee · 5 months
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yeahyankee · 1 year
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Genuinely curious if Zac Oyama knew that he would induce cute aggression in people every time he did *actually realistic* cat noises as PIB?
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vettely · 2 years
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maybe i'm imagining things but lewis looked sad in every single interview where he talked about seb, like he's still processing the information and can't quite believe it yet, like he's a bit confused but also a bit angry bc he's gonna be left alone in that circus that is f1 which is very understandable
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ohdarlinq · 5 months
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just saw the bootleg beatles and they were so good omg
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ambiencowboy · 2 years
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Me n bf were hanging out in the park and this kid came up to us and started passionately explaining the concepts of sticks. He ended it with “and that’s sticks!!!!!! :D” I love kids
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araneitela · 8 months
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Character, connections, and verses: (2/2)
#[ visage. ] yet he thought her smile looked sad. maybe someone left her before they could listen to everything she had to say.#[ meta. ] the mara's tether is firmly in her grasp. she will not pull upon it before the designated time; nor shall she relinquish it.#[ mini study. ] she must have sought something extraordinary. everything she does comes at a great cost.#[ essence. ] it started with sincerity and anticipation followed by a passionate catharsis; with one climax after another.#[ stellaron hunters. ] we all have our own individual goals. we may work together; but we work together for our own reasons.#[ astral express. ] in pursuit of the most dangerous objects in the universe? in that sense; you and i are cut from the same cloth.#[ conflict. ] looks like we're the ones getting ambushed. / but they're the ones getting besieged.#[ nessun dorma. ] da capo. fortississimo. capriccio. recitativo. doloroso. leggiero.#[ beauty. ] all beautiful things have one thing in common: fragility. the more fragile; the rarer. maybe that's what makes it so precious.#[ destiny. ] that's the nature of destiny — it creates a miracle but convinces you of an accident.#[ pteruges-v. ] it was one of many planets changed by a stellaron. ah#it's a shame i never got to witness how far it fell at the time.#[ caelus. ] i called out to you and you came. you had many choices; but everything led you here. to right here and right now.#[ inominati. ] you won't remember a thing except me.#[ elio. ] he can see the future; but he can't interfere with our choices. we are all 'destiny's slaves.#[ bladie. ] … her voice was very gentle. and even the monster inside his body stayed silent to listen to her. “but I don't want to.”#[ silver wolf. ] ignoring the rules is something she and i have in common.#[ sam. ] you should really stop playing with your food; kafka. / i know. next time. this time… it's already too late.#[ v: new babylon. ] i was a devil hunter. when people don't feel fear; they are dominated by desire and pleasure. they become “devils”.#[ v: present. ] we can only add one gold thread each time but eventually: we will pave the way for the future that is written.#[ v: future. ] the future is like a labyrinth: every divergence is merely an inducement. there is only one real path.#[ bladie. ] … her voice was very gentle. and even the monster inside his body stayed silent to listen to her. 'but I don't want to.'
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chuluoyi · 16 days
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✎ heaven's fury
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- gojo satoru x reader
sometimes you forget that your husband has burdens as the strongest sorcerer alive. when he goes back home from a bad day and you're the first person he comes contact to, you're made aware of it once again
genre: angry!gojo, a bit of hurt with looots of comfort and fluff !! it’s self-indulgent too🤭
note: i knooow i said i'll post gojo angst next, but i forgot i have this in backburner too so... this hurt/comfort goes first :') based on an anon's request. loosely takes place after baby!
a part of gojo's love entries
series masterlist | oneshot masterlist
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“Sukuna's vessel is a threat— he must be executed as soon as possible!”
“The more we put this off, the greater the risk he poses to society!”
“Gojo, you can't delay his sentence any longer—!”
Weak. All of them. They always make excuses. Trying to pin blame on someone else.
The jujutsu world he lives in… is wretched. Gojo Satoru thought he knew that well already, or at least knew enough to not get riled up over it.
Apparently not.
“Gojo-sensei? You look scary...”
Typically, he would mask his clear disdain with sharp-witted jibes, but he reached his limit this time. Especially since they had been pressuring him relentlessly to execute Itadori Yuji for at least five times a week, each week.
. . .
“Satoru, oh, you're home already!”
At the end of it all, he went home with the worst of moods. It served as a reminder—of his deep-seated contempt for weakness and how burdensome he found the task of protecting the insufferable to be.
“Satoru...?”
And it's because of their weakness that Suguru—
“Satoru, are you—?”
“Just fucking shut it!”
And that was when he saw you, standing before him with wide eyes, cradling your—his—precious baby in your arms, who was sound asleep.
“Huh…?”
Satoru immediately tensed up, realizing his mistake. And what hit him even harder was— is that a flicker of hurt he saw flashing across your face?
If so, then you quickly blinked it away because in the next instant, your face lit up with a warm smile— kind of forced, to his dismay. “Welcome home, Satoru.”
Something inside him churned, his heart started to ache, and there was a bitter taste in his mouth then.
There you were, as accepting as ever, and he cherished you for it.
But not tonight. Not for this. You didn't deserve any of his misplaced resentment.
Damn it. Damn it all!
In response, he offered you a subtle nod and headed to the bathroom, thinking a shower might help clear his foul mood away.
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Contrary to what Satoru might think, you didn't really hold anything against him.
You were surprised, yes, because he was usually such a ball of energy even when he got back from intercity missions, but more than the hurt, you would understand if now, he was pissed some way or another.
Your husband is still a human. He is entitled to be upset on some days.
After ensuring your son was comfortably asleep in his cot, you returned to your bedroom to find Satoru already in bed, facing away from you. Hmph... now that you thought about it, this silence between you was unacceptable.
“Satoru.” You poked his side, but he didn't budge and still had his eyes shut. You arched an eyebrow. “Satoru? You can't be asleep.”
“…” No answer. Okay, let's try something else.
“Honey, talk to me? Hmm?” you decided to swallow the heat on your face as you addressed him more intimately. Mind you, you didn't usually call him that. He was the one in charge of pet names.
“…” This shithead. That's it.
“Satoru, my tummy hurts—”
“What?” In an instant, he flipped over, abruptly sitting up. “What hurts—”
Seizing the opportunity, you tugged him by the neck, and both of you tumbled onto the bed, with him landing on top of you. Satoru instinctively held himself up and cushioned the back of your head with his hand so you wouldn’t crash into the headboard—his blue eyes wildly flickering, searching for any sign of discomfort or harm.
“You good?” he made a face upon realizing your ruse.
“You won’t talk to me otherwise,” you noted with a hint of annoyance. But then your eyes softened into a concerned frown. “Satoru… what’s wrong?”
Once again, Satoru felt hollow. You were worried and it reached him. “It’s nothing,” he replied, looking away, trying to downplay his fury.
You pulled him close, his head against your chest, and though he was stiff and taken aback at first, he released a reluctant sigh and instinctively snuggled closer, finding comfort in your embrace.
“There, there…” you soothed with a smile, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Feel better now?”
He let out another sigh against you, returning the hug and nuzzling his face against your chest. His body heat enveloped you like a blanket.
And after a while...
“...’m sorry for yelling at you...” he muttered with such regret it made your eyes widen. “Didn’t mean it.”
The slight prickle in your heart dissipated at once, hearing his muffled voice.
“Mm-hmm, I know.”
“Really.”
“Mmm, really, really.”
He held you a little tighter, breathing in your scent, and you kept stroking his head. He looked so despondent it warmed your heart, and made you want to pet him. “Our baby loves being held like this too,” you giggled fondly. “You big baby… you’re just like him.”
Your husband let out a soft grunt against your chest, exhaling deeply.
“Whenever you’re ready, talk to me, yes?”
And so after several more pats on his head, Satoru finally told you everything, about how the higher-ups were relentlessly pressing him to put an end to Yuji, the new kid he recently enrolled to the jujutsu school.
“They're just some paranoid old fools—”
“Mm-hmm.”
“—stinky, cringey, looks depressed most of the time—”
“Heh— now that's just plain disrespect.”
“Yuji is just clueless and just has a lot to learn,” Satoru grumbled sullenly. “They didn't even teach him a thing and incapable to— how dare they? To keep him ignorant and then murder him?”
...oh.
And at that moment, you found clarity. Why he got so worked up, why he got irate this time whereas he was usually insensitive.
First, it was because of your tragic youth. No one protected Haibara from his unfortunate incident and was there for Geto when he needed it the most—which still haunted him to this day.
And secondly, because he himself is a father too. No one deserves their youth being taken away. That has been his moral compass, and the sense grows even stronger ever since the baby was born.
It made something inside you flutter.
“Satoru...” you breathed out, smiling, squeezing him affectionately. “You’re ... a kind person.”
“Huh?”
“You take it upon yourself to mentor those kids,” you mused. “Just look at Megumi and Yuta; they've turned out just fine.”
Truthfully, Satoru didn't consider himself as kind as you made him out to be. At times he felt like he was doing it because it was right, sometimes he thought it was for fun, and at other times, he simply didn't feel like seeing more deaths or wrong paths. And he was sure if you had asked Megumi whether he was a good teacher or not, the grumpy boy would only roll his eyes.
But then, just as he looked up at you, the prettiest smile blossomed on your face, and you said to him—
“And as your wife, I’m... proud of you.”
The way you sincerely told him that made his breath catch in his throat, and his heart pound a little faster.
The woman who has become his everything. This unabashed, pure love you show him.
“Sweets, I—” he suddenly rose, back to on top of you. But his voice faltered, remembering the way he coldly snapped at you earlier. “I...”
You looked up at him innocently. And he swallowed the shame because he had to tell you too.
Because you were so, so incredibly precious to him, and he wanted you to know that.
“…love you,” he mumbled, his beautiful eyes meeting yours with no hesitation. His cheeks were burning, tinted with a shade of pink—and you out of all people knew best that him being embarrassed meant as good as him not being horny—
But before you could point it out, he leaned down towards you, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. There was no trace of the man who was hungry for your body— it was just a long, chaste kiss that contained his feelings for you.
And when he pulled back, both of you were panting slightly, trying to catch your breath. Then, he pursed his lips, his eyes glittery—somehow reminding you of your baby's face just before he cried out for his milk.
“I wanna pay for my sin. Wanna cuddle you too.”
And so you let him. He held you close, his arm under your head and you traced lazy lines on his chest, feeling contented and somewhat giddy.
“You feel that bad, huh?” you chuckled, noticing his continued gloominess.
“I am,” he puffed out his cheeks before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Because if anyone else dares to tell you off like that, I'll wreck them on the spot.”
“Hmm, how romantic. But come to think about it... you did look a little scary though...”
At that moment, he felt his heart drop, his eyes instantly rounded in alarm, looking at you with dismay.
“No, no, I'm not scary! Wifey, I'm your devoted and loving husband!”
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Epilogue
Your morning started with your baby's cries. When you glanced over, Satoru was gone from your bed already. Curious, you made your way to the baby's room, and what you saw there caused you to raise an eyebrow.
"Satoru... what are you...?"
He turned to you with an expression so heartbroken as he rocked his wailing baby. "He keeps crying, I don't know why..."
However, your attention was drawn more to his disheveled appearance. Messy hair, slitted eyes as if he hadn't brushed off sleep, and most of all, the dark eyebags under his eyes.
"Uh, Satoru... give him to me."
When he did, your baby calmed down almost instantly, his sobs turning into light sniffles, and your husband could only scratch his head in confusion.
"Why...? When I tried to look at him, he cried even harder—"
"...no offense, but if I were a baby and someone who looks like a panda holds me up, I'd get scared and cry too."
Satoru let out a theatrical gasp, clutching his chest as he hovered your baby—
"Nooo! Papa didn't mean to scare you—!"
...but to his horror, your baby turned away from him, hiding his face in your chest instead.
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shooting-love-arrows · 6 months
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐌𝐀𝐍
SYNOPSIS: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 basks in the fact that you're ofically his. PAIRING: 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 x Reader (gender isn't impiled/mentioned/specified) Tw. buying reader, kidnapping, general lack of consent, possessive/obsessive behavior, power imbalance, blackmailing, threatening; A/N: Quick reminder. I do not support this kind of behaviour. This is just a piece of fiction and serves as enetrtaimnet purposes only.
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
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𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 who had bought you.
Earlier that week, unknowingly to you, he visited a small apartment you and your family were occupying. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 was aware where and how you were living but it still mortified him how you – his precious darling – could be living like that. 
“You deserve better…more…” he repeated in his head every time he thought about you. Which was always. So it didn't come as a surprise to anyone he had decided to do something about it sooner than later.
Yes, 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 greatly appreciated being so warmly welcomed by (his soon to be in-laws) your family. He even witnessed himself from where you got some of your traits from but business needed to be made.
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 was straight forward from the start.
The deal was simple: he will pay your family a handsome sum of money monthly and you'll belong to him wholly. They'll completely disappear from your life, becoming nothing but a shadow of your past. In his head he knows you won’t need them anymore.
If not, their financial situation which was already bad will be even worse. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 is a man of power and has a lot of money. Your parents, knowing this, quickly understood that it's either willingly giving you away and getting the money or he will forcefully do so with them landing on a street, probably dead.
From the beginning, they had no choice.
"And here you are, my precious." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 whispered lovingly into your ear before gently laying you on the king size bed. You were put in a deep sleep by an alcohol you drank during his luxurious party (he threw to celebrate sealing the deal but shhh...) and strong sleeping pills he had added to one of your drinks. He made a mental note to pay the doctor he got them from an extra since you didn't even twitch the whole way you were carried here.
"I hope the bedroom will be to your liking." Your (captor) future husband carefully took off your shoes and laid them by your new bed. 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 wanted you to be as comfortable as one person can be. Then he took the neatly folded blanket made from the highest quality silk and processed to snuggly tuck you in. When he finished, you looked like the bed could swallow you at any given moment.
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 couldn’t help himself and brought his hand to your head, caressing it while staring at your face in adoration. "If not I'll change it however you like it."
Secretly, he hoped you'll be sharing a bedroom (especially bed) soon.
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 sat down by your side, the softest mattress he could find easily dipping under him. He didn’t care that he was wrinkling his expensive party wear consisting of a black tuxedo imported straight from Italy that accentuated his lean body in every positive way. He was looking his absolutely best. For you.
"Oh how I love you, my precious." 𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 purred and his fingers ghosted over your cheek. He leaned down close enough to your face that your soft breaths were fanning him. Some of his slicked back hair fell down tickling your forehead. His mesmerizing eyes were gleaming with the passionate and deep rooted love he had for you. "You belong to me."
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐞! 𝟏𝟗𝟐𝟎'𝐬! 𝐑𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐧 sealed your fate with a peck on your lips.
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All of the published posts on this account/blog belongs to @shooting-love-arrows. I do not consent to my works being: translated, stolen, published or reposted on this and other sites. Likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreaciated. Thank you.
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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Light on - single mom/neighbors fic Simon Riley/female reader
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Morning comes with dark regret. 
Light tries to fight past his curtains, luxurious slivers of sun peeking through the edges, casting sharp beams across his face. It’s what wakes him, at first, gently bringing him to consciousness, easing him into reality- before memory slaps him across the face. 
Fuck. Did he dream that? Was that real? 
He tries, for a barely there moment, to pretend that it was a nightmare. That he didn’t shut you out, turn you away from his door, sweet, beautiful face smiling up at him, timid offering on your lips. 
“Thought we could, um, try this again?” 
His stomach sours when he remembers the way your shy expression shattered, how you faltered, confused and… hurt. He hurt you. He took your trust, your precious heart, and smashed it to pieces because he was afraid. Because he couldn’t let you see. 
His reflection in the bathroom mirror makes him sick. 
Fucked up nose, fucked up face, fucked up, cruel, awful person. 
Maybe he's more like him than he realizes.
How could he have done that to you? To you. The one person in this entire world that makes him feel warm, that makes him want something more, that gives him hope. His girl. 
He knows why, of course. He didn’t want you to see him, didn’t want you to know what it was like. Wanted to shield you from it, keep you and Emmaline tucked away in the space inside his heart, where you're safe. Where you don't realize how much of a monster he is. Didn’t want you to witness the come down, the decompression, the shedding of his skin post mission. Didn’t want you to know that he’s not always the man you think he is, the one you know, the one you trust to hold your baby and take you to the hospital and eat dinner in your kitchen. He didn’t want to shatter the illusion, didn’t want to step out from behind the lie. He wasn’t ready for it to be over yet. 
Because what would you have done, if you met Ghost? If you realized that your neighbor is a professional killer? A war criminal? Sure, he told you what he does for a living, but he didn’t tell you that much. And fuck. He couldn’t just let you in his flat. He hadn’t even showered, hadn’t gotten all the grease off his face. He still had blood under his fingernails, men’s dying screams echoing in his ears. How could he let that touch you? How could he let any of that, be anywhere near you? 
You and Emmaline would be far better off if he stayed in the shadows. Kept an eye on you, kept you safe, but kept his distance. A good man, a better man, would spare you the pain, the heartbreak, of bringing something like him into your life. 
The problem is, Simon’s never been a good man. 
He tries calling you. When it goes to voicemail, he hangs up, rolling over in bed, burying his face in his pillow. He keeps himself tucked under his blankets, sleep desperately pulling at him, trying to drag him into the black abyss of his dreams and when the minutes tick by and you don’t call him back… he begrudgingly succumbs to the cocoon of sleep. 
He calls again, later, as the sun is setting. You don’t answer, and he tells himself you’re probably busy, busy getting Emmaline and you fed, busy trying to settle her for bedtime. Busy ignoring him. He strains to listen through the walls, hoping to catch the muffled sound of your voice, or the TV, Emma’s cries or giggles, a sign of some kind. A sign that he should try again. Call you again. Knock on your door. 
He hears you in the hall an hour later.
Emmaline is crying, and you’re trying to soothe her, low pitch of your “shhh, shhh, shhh” slipping under his door and down the hall to where he’s pacing in the living room. He bolts to his front door, swinging through the frame, turning towards where you’ve got her in a wrap against your chest, backpack straps looped through your arm.  “Shit!” You yelp, eyes wide. Emmaline startles against you, cheeks wet with tears, and then she quiets, mouth hanging open. “Jesus. You scared me.” You’re fidgeting with your keys, fingers clenched just a little too tight around the ring. 
“Sorry.” 
“It’s okay.” You smile at him, but it’s all wrong, the kind of smile you might give a stranger, someone you only know in passing. His stomach flips. 
“I tried calling, earlier, uh- are you two… busy?” Let me explain, sweetheart. Please. I’m so sorry. 
“She’s overdue for a bottle,” You motion to Emma, who’s now gazing at him with a sweet little smile, tears evaporated. “and she’s got a tooth pushing through, so it’s been a really long day.” You sound exhausted, and look it too, shifting your weight, stretching with a bit of a wince, and he frowns. Is your back hurting you? Is it your neck? Where is the stroller? 
“Do you need some help?” C’mon love. I know I hurt you, let me explain. Please. Let me help. You need me. I need you. He takes a step towards you, longing practically dragging him by force into your orbit, but your face twists, and you move backwards, away from him. 
His heart cracks in his chest. No. Please.
“Ah, no. I got it, no worries.” No worries. No worries? “With the teething, she’s… I’ll try to keep her quiet. Just let me know if she’s too loud or if it’s a problem.”  
“It’s not a problem.” He rushes to reassure you. “Of course it’s not, sweetheart. I… if you have some time, later… I want to talk to you, about last night, I-“ 
“Oh, it’s fine. Don’t even worry about it.” You wave him off, eyes tight, lip tugged between your teeth. Emmaline lets out a small cry, just the beginning of a wail, and you sigh. “I’ve gotta get her inside.” He doesn’t want to push you, doesn’t want to make you feel like he’s backing you into a corner or trying to force you to listen to him, and he doesn’t know what else to do. He feels lost. Stupid. So, so stupid for letting his girl, his… family, slip away from him like this. 
“Alright… well, let me know if you need anything, yeah?” He asks gently, and you nod without looking at him, eyes bouncing from Emmaline to the floor, to the keys in your hand. 
“Sure.” 
2K notes · View notes
resonancewitness · 21 days
Text
looking through the lens of character strengths
Coming back the idea about looking at GG's and DD's personalities through the lens of character strengths, I am thinking that both of them have many character strengths highly developed, in comparison to the people we are more accustomed to encounter. If I look at both of them, indeed, it feels like all 24 character strengths are present to a high degree; some more prominent in one, and some in the other, and many in both.
Signature strengths are those without which a person would not be themselves. So I will make an educated guess about which strengths are signature strengths for each of them. I don't think, of course, that I know them well enough, so this is more like an evaluation/analysis of my perception/ projection, than of real people.
I think they learn a lot from each other, and each of them eventually develops the strengths that are more prominent in the other.
DD:
zest/ vitality/ embodied spirit of adventure;
self-regulation/ self-control;
honesty/ integrity;
appreciation of beauty and mastery;
kindness;
curiosity;
courage;
hope/ optimism;
teamwork;
persistence;
humility;
love;
love of learning;
critical thinking;
forgiveness;
fairness/ justice
GG:
social intelligence;
curiosity;
appreciation of beauty and mastery;
prudence;
leadership;
kindness;
creativity;
love;
persistence;
hope/optimism;
love of learning;
wisdom;
critical thinking;
sense of humour/ playfulness;
teamwork;
spirituality
Usually a person has 3-7 signature strengths, and here I had to force myself to stop at 16, and maybe I shouldn't have, maybe all 24 strengths should be listed for each of them as signature strengths.
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bat-boys · 1 month
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besotted
pairing: Azriel x fem reader
word count: 3.7k
warnings: none, just tooth rotting fluff
summary: Rhys and Feyre have asked you to babysit Nyx for the day, meaning you get to spend the whole time enjoying one of your favourite weaknesses: your mate cuddling cute babies.
a/n: thank you so much for the love, it's been so lovely 🫶🏻. this fic is completely self-indulgent - I don't even want children but the thought of handsome men with babies? lord have mercy. My inbox is always open for a chat or fic suggestions /requests. Enjoy loves.
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Velaris was truly stunning in every season, every weather, at any time of day, but for you, your favourite time in the city was during the height of summer. When the weather was perfect, the warmth not too stifling, and the evenings cool, the sun glistened on the smooth water of the Sidra, and the air was filled with the soft chattering and laughter of its citizens that lasted well into the evening.
A soft grin played on your lips as you strolled through the streets of the city you had grown up in, the warm breeze gently blowing the gauzy material of your trousers and licking at the stretch of skin exposed at the waist due to the cropped top you wore - the beautiful outfit a gift from your close friend Amren who shared your sense of style. Your confident and sure steps took you past familiar shops, filled to the brim with their exquisite wares as you approached the handful of shops you needed to visit. 
As you neared the first shop you needed to visit, you turned your head slightly when you felt one of those familiar shadows that followed you everywhere. It slipped up your arm and affectionally curled around the skin between where your shoulder met your neck. The darkness cooled your warm skin, causing a soft smile to fall on your lips when you thought of the man to whom they belonged. Since being mated to Azriel, a handful of his shadows were always with you, and you had grown very fond of your own little shadows. According to the spymaster, they had left him on their own accord, feeling as protective of you as their master did. They acted almost as a messenger service between you and your mate. 
"Are you okay, babe? One of your shadows just tapped me on the shoulder." As you entered the small shop, you spoke gently through that sparkling, glimmering thread you shared with your favourite person in the whole wide world. 
"When are you heading back?" His deep, midnight-laced voice slipped into your mind, and you had to hold back the involuntary shudder as you touched one of the children's toys hanging on a rack before you. 
"Why are you missing me already, Az?" Judging by the chuckle you heard that echoed in your head, he could practically hear the teasing smirk in your words. 
"Always, sweetheart." There was a pause, and your eyebrows furrowed. You realized that something was actually amiss, and he wanted you home. "Nyx is fussing, and I don't know what to do."
This time, you chuckled out loud as you grabbed the toy from the rack and took it to the counter at the back of the shop to pay for it. You smiled gently at the shopkeeper, who warmly greeted you.
"He's probably hungry, babe; give him one of those bottles Feyre left. They're in the fridge." Rhys and Feyre had to attend a last-minute meeting today with the Court of Nightmares and Eris from the Autumn Court. They politely asked if you and Azriel could babysit Nyx on short notice. Initially, Azriel had put up a bit of a fuss, arguing that he needed to be there at the meeting, but Rhys had reasoned that Cassian would be there, as would Mor and Amren. Plus, he would show Az everything through his daemati ability. Feyre had sweetened the blow by telling Az you and him were Nyx's favourite aunt and uncle and that they trusted him the most to look after their precious son. 
You had beamed at Azriel's shocked face, winking at Rhys as you had shared in your amusement. Azriel was absolutely besotted with the tiny babe and would protect him with his life if needed. You had no doubt Azriel would immediately sacrifice his life for Nyx, no questions asked. Privately, you had agreed entirely with the idea of you and Azriel protecting Nyx from a security perspective - both of you ready to use your extensive abilities to protect the tiny fae - but also because it meant you could watch Azriel cuddle the baby. In the last couple of months, it had become one of your favourite weaknesses when it came to the shadowsinger. 
"Oh yeah, ok." Relief washed down the bond as he moved towards the kitchen and grabbed the bottle from the fridge, remembering how to warm it and test its temperature. 
"You've babysat Nyx before, Az; you're a natural at this—trust your instincts, babe." You assured him as you passed the money over to the shopkeeper, gave her a warm smile, thanked her, and took the small bag she set on her counter. Wishing her a goodbye, you left the shop and stepped back into the warm streets of Velaris, heading towards the next shop. 
"I've never babysat him before on my own!" You could practically hear the panic in his voice, and you shook your head absentmindedly at his lack of confidence in something he was exceptionally good at. 
"You're his favourite uncle for a reason, Az! I won't be long, promise." 
"Hurry back, sweetheart. I miss you too." A warm caress reached you through the bond, accompanied by the feeling of his shadows sliding up your thigh, the phantom feeling of his hands on your skin causing you to jolt ever so slightly. Wicked little things.
You had been hesitant to leave the Town House, which you and Az now called yours, this afternoon, but with Nyx arriving at such short notice, you needed more time to get some supplies in. You desperately needed some baby stuff and food for both yourself and your mate. You were just exchanging money with the butcher when you felt another frantic pulse through your bond. 
"Babe, he's crying again! He's had the whole bottle." You sent your mate a pulse of affection through his bond, trying to calm him down as you slid the package of food you had just brought into one of your bags. 
"Sweetheart, you need to burp him now." You gently reminded him. 
"Oh shit yeah." You laughed at your mate, drawing some strange looks from passersby, which caused a slight blush to rise on your cheeks. 
"No cursing around the baby!" This time, you felt Azriel's amusement through the bond, a warm beat of laughter that you would spend forever trying to coax from him - his laughter, deep, rich and full, was one of your favourite sounds.
"He can't hear me." He reasoned, his voice now calm now that you had given him a plan of action. He thrived in coordination and planning, able to adapt in times of chaos, but he preferred a detailed and methodical approach to everything. Even in the bedroom. 
As you stepped out of the final shop, your purchases swinging from your hands, your face turned up to catch the afternoon rays as they gently warmed your face, you felt another shadow creep up your arm to practically tap on your shoulder. 
"Fuck, now he's crying so loud I think he might bring the roof down!" Azriel was panicking again, and you could imagine him running his slender fingers through his hair - tuffs of midnight black standing up in a messy array as he started to pace.
"Az, calm down - he needs to sleep." In the Town House, Azriel felt a wave of calm wash over him as he listened to your levelled voice. No hint of irritation or annoyance in your voice. Even after all these years, he still had to fight his instincts that told him you would get tired of him and his pestering, overprotectiveness or panic, but you had been steadfast the entire time. Making sure he felt supported and loved through everything, and he could never be so grateful for the connection you had built together, the love you shared and the life you had crafted with each other. 
"I've tried putting him down, but he screams louder." He sounded tired, and you had to stop yourself from teasing, knowing that wasn't what he needed right now. 
"Pick him up. He probably wants you to cuddle him while he falls asleep." If you were being honest, you couldn't blame Nyx. Nothing, and you mean absolutely nothing, compares to Azriel's cuddles. You always felt so safe, so protected, and so comforted in his arms.
"Ok, yeah, I can do that. Gods, why are you so good at this love." You chuckled at the exasperation in his voice. Azriel must have been so agitated because, through the bond, he sent you images of him gently picking up a crying Nyx, his sweet face red and crumpled as he cried, and holding him to his chest. You tried so hard not to focus on those broad, beautiful, strong, scarred hands as they firmly held Nyx, thoughts of how he had held you last night entering into your mind unbidden and causing you to stumble on the uneven cobblestones of the path you were walking, "Careful love." You felt Az chuckle. 
"Ass." You felt his amusement through the bond and his relief as Nyx began to calm down and snuggled into Azriel. "You're a natural at this, Az, though. I'm nearly home."
"See you soon, love." At the sound of his husky voice, filled with love, you felt your pace pick up as you made your way towards the beautiful home you shared, eager to get home to your waiting mate. 
The Town House was quiet and bathed in darkness when you stepped inside. Trying to make as little noise as possible, you carefully set your bags on the entryway floor and slipped your shoes off, the cool wooden floor of the house soothing your hot feet. 
A handful of shadows flew through the air towards you, darting around your body and playfully getting tangled up in your hair and clothes. They whispered at you to be quiet and told you that Azriel and Nyx were in the main living room. 
With a grin on your face, you tip-toed over to the doorway to the living room and leaned against the frame as you took in the heartwarming scene before you. You had to physically stop the tears brimming in your eyes as you gazed at your mate, gently napping on the sofa with a content and fast asleep Nyx resting on his chest, softly snoring in the way only babes can. 
The scene before you was so soft and sweet that you indulged yourself for a moment, picturing your own child fast asleep on your mate's strong chest. You stared for a while, marvelling at the beauty of Azriel. His strong arms were exposed due to his sleeveless top, his Illyrian tattoos proudly swirling around his dark skin - arms you know would hold you close in the dead of night, keep you standing when you were weak and protect you until the ends of the earth. His soft, slightly curled, midnight hair gently fell on his proud forehead, making him look almost boyish and not the formidable man he presented to the rest of the world. His soft, full lips that were parted slightly in sleep. His strong jaw and proud nose, his sculpted body and thick thighs. He truly was heaven-sent.  
"I can feel you staring." He mumbled through the bond, and you had to stifle a soft laugh. Of course, Azriel wouldn't be entirely asleep - he rarely was; at least some part of him was always awake and alert. You think the only times Az had ever wholly given in to peaceful sleep was those precious weeks after you had accepted your mating bond when he was so tired and content to be next to you and holding you close that he couldn't resist falling into a deep slumber. But only after he had made sure the wards protecting the secluded cabin were still secure, ever the spymaster. 
You pushed away from the doorframe and padded towards where your mate was sitting. He opened his eyes slightly, still sleepy from his brief nap, and his lips curled into a warm smile as you approached. 
"Hi, love." You whispered as you bent over the back of the sofa to grip his face and press your lips to his in a sweet kiss. Kissing Az was something you would never get over, even after decades together. The feel of his plush but slightly chapped lips against yours, his delicious taste and scent enveloping your senses, had your toes curling against the cold wooden floor. 
"I'm so glad you're back." You beamed at him as you stared at his upside-down face, gently stroking his jaw and feeling the slight stubble against the soft skin of your hands. 
"Seems like you've got it handled," you teased as you turned your attention to the sleeping child on Azriel's chest. You reached out a hand to gently brush Nyx's soft hair off his forehead, desperately holding in the coo that threatened to leave your lips as he let out a soft sigh and nestled further into Az's chest. Who could blame him, you thought? You had the exact same favourite sleeping position. 
"You're definitely better at this than me," he mumbled as you skirted around the sofa to sit beside your mate. He ever so slowly and ever so gently shifted so as not to wake Nyx so you could tuck yourself into his side. His arm curled around your shoulders to bring you closer, planting a gentle kiss on your temple. 
"How long has Nyx been asleep?" you whispered as you snuggled closer to your mate, hand reaching out to gently stroke up and down Nyx's back in a soothing manner you knew he liked.
"About 20 minutes." You hummed, proud of Azriel for handling the situation. He had been so nervous around the babe when he was first born—so conscious of the tiny, breakable fae he now felt some reasonability for.
"I'd say you've had it completely covered, babe." Nyx stirred ever so slightly, and you knew from experience that you had exactly 5 minutes before he woke up and was agitated again due to not sleeping enough. 
A soft hum filled the quiet air as you got up and gently took the sleeping child from Azriel, whispering soothing noises. He stirred slightly as you manoeuvred him into your arms. You bounced ever so slightly on your toes, continuing to hum a lullaby you had heard Feyre singing to him the other day as you walked over to the travelling crib Azriel had set up next to the sofa. Ever so gently, you lowered Nyx into the plush mattress, stroking a finger down his cheeks in a way you knew he liked as you watched him settle back to sleep. 
Azriel just sat back, arms spread out on the back of the sofa behind him, as he watched you so expertly soothe Nyx. He could practically feel his eyes turning into hearts as he watched you, almost unable to control the all-consuming feeling of love that was threatening to spill from him. He loved you so much and had done so for hundreds of years, but in recent months, watching you become so enamoured by your nephew, a new tentative love grew. 
You turned around, and Azriel offered you one of his sweet smiles before holding out an outstretched hand and silently bidding you to return to his side. With a matching grin, you took his hand and let him pull you in beside him before shifting you both, so you were lying down on the sofa, both facing Nyx as Azriel wound his arms around you to pull you flush against his chest. 
A feeling of absolute contentment flooded Azriel as you lay there, breathing in your sweet scent and kissing your soft hair. You shifted closer to him, fingers stroking over his hands wrapped around your waist, holding you close. Mirroring smiles danced on your lips as you watched your nephew and enjoyed the comfortable silence that had settled over the Town House.
"I love seeing you with Nyx Az." You whispered into the soft silence, and you felt a pulse of utter adoration through the thread you both shared. 
"Hmmm, do you, love?" He mumbled into your hair, an ear-splitting grin stretching on his lips. He was unable to deny that primal part of him that basked in the glow of your words—that you had admitted enjoying seeing him with children. 
"It's my ultimate weakness." He chuckled softly. 
"Seeing you with him is mine, too," he confessed back, his arms loosening as you turned around to face him. For a minute, you just looked at him, eyes drinking in his handsome face, flitting over his lips and his nose before settling on his hazel eyes, which were gazing at you with such emotion that a lump formed at the back of your throat. 
Slowly, lazily, you brought your hand up to trace the features of his face before gently pushing a soft curl of his hair that had fallen over his forehead. The ring he had gifted you nearly 60 years ago glinted in the dim light. 
"Have you ever considered it?" You whispered shyly. It wasn't a topic you had discussed with Azriel much; there simply hadn't been enough time. Shortly after the bond had snapped for the both of you - after years of pining and yearning for each other - Rhys had gone under the mountain. You had spent those long years trying to hold everyone together, and then Rhys had returned, and you had been focused on bringing him and Feyre back from that dark place where they had found themselves. Then, the devastating war you had all been plunged into. It had not been an environment you could ever bring a child into. 
"What?" He knew what you meant, but he wanted to hear the words come from your lips. 
"Having children of our own?" The words felt fragile between you. Deep down, you knew you were both on the same page, but still, this was not a conversation you had had before. The soft smile dancing on Az's lips soothed you, however, as he, too, brought his hand up to delicately trace your features. 
"I didn't think I would ever get the opportunity to be a father, certainly didn't think I would be a good one. But seeing you with Nyx these last couple of months…yeah, I have." His confession was soft, and you couldn't help yourself as you closed that small distance between you two to press your lips to his in a kiss that held a promise and contained all of the love you could ever feel for the male. His arms wrapped tightly around you again as he held you close and lost himself in the delicious feeling of your lips on his. 
You broke away gently, slowly, languidly, eyes still closed as you leaned in to press short kisses to his lips. Resting your forehead against his, you stayed there, breathing him in, hands softly caressing his face. "You will be such a good dad, Az. You will be patient, kind and considerate. Fun when you want to be, firm when you need to be, and comforting when they're sad or frustrated. I've thought about it too." You made sure you delivered the words whilst looking him in the eyes, conveying just how much you meant the words.
"Yeah?" His voice was hoarse, and you spotted tears brimming in his beautiful eyes, your heart breaking in your chest at the fact that he had so desperately needed to hear the words. You leaned in to kiss his lips again, hand resting on his chest to feel his thundering heart as he breathed in a shaky breath. 
"I don't think I'm ready just yet. I still want to experience life with you," you whispered, an amused smirk playing on your lips. You hadn't had enough time with Az yet. There was still so much of the world to see, so many things you wanted to explore with just your mate before you put down roots and grew a beautiful family of your own. 
"I feel the same." He reassured, pulling you closer again, desperate to make sure not a single inch of space was between you two. 
"But when the time is right, when we are ready. It would bring me nothing but joy to have children together." A stunning smile you had not seen before stretched across Azriel's face, and you gasped at the powerful pulse that reverberated down the bond from your mate. It was pure light—beautiful, gleaming light—such happiness radiating from between you two that you imagined both of your skins glowing with it. 
"I love you so much, Y/N." He said reverently. 
"I love you too." The distance between your lips closed again as you placed a sweet kiss on his lips, tilting your head slightly to deepen in - determined to convey just how much you love him, how thankful you are to the Mother and the Cauldron for giving you, Azriel as your mate. You felt him moan softly as you slipped your tongue past the seam of his lips, gently licking into his mouth as you swallowed the soft sounds you were both making. You pulled away with a mischievous grin dancing on your lips, "Gods, our kids would be cute."
"Do you think so?" He asked, pushing your hair behind your pointed ears so he could see your face clearly.
"What, you don't?" You asked in mock shock and horror, causing another chuckle to rumble through his chest. 
"As long as they take after you, sweetheart, they will be the cutest children Prythian has ever seen." You laughed at him, but secretly, you hoped they looked nothing like you and took after the incredible man you had been mated to for all of these years—that they had his kind eyes, gentle smile, and luxurious locks of soft midnight hair.
"I can't wait." You whispered as you laid your head down beside him, nuzzling into his neck and breathing in his scent of mist and cedar, the smell of home. 
"Neither can I, my love." He whispered back to you as he held you close, kissing your hairline and temple. You both let your heavy eyelids droop as your limbs tangled on the sofa. Nyx continued to sleep softly beside you. One day soon, it would be your child in that crib, you promised yourself and Az through that golden thread deep in your heart before you both fell peacefully asleep. 
938 notes · View notes
obliviouscxnt · 3 months
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His Shadow Azriel x Reader
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a/n: quick little idea/drabble i had (that could honestly get turned into another series) idk if this has been done before, if it has let me know please, I'll probably delete this. I hope you enjoy :)) <333
synopsis: azriel takes you for granted
Warnings: angst
pt.2
He thought it was poetic, the way the shadows disappeared around Mor. She brightened up his life, literally.  
Never did he think he’d find someone else capable of doing such a thing. Until he met Elaine. 
The change was gradual, so gradual he hadn’t even noticed. 
They stayed with him, at first, treating the once-human girl like any other person. But then she was turned fae, and Azriel’s visits with her began. With each visit, less, and less, shadows joined him. 
He was completely unaware, she stole his focus. 
He felt protective of her, like a precious flower he had to keep from wilting. That protectiveness slowly became something more, a yearning. Even more so when Cassian discovered he was mated to the eldest Acheron.
Though the night Elaine kissed him, everything changed.
They’d sat outside, in her garden, and even though the sky was already dark they’d stayed. Getting lost in conversation. She told him about things she cared about, and he listened. She asked him about himself, and he answered.
 At some point she ended up in front of him, gazing up at his lips. 
She looked so beautiful, illuminated by the stars, surrounded by her lovely garden. A sight he felt lucky to witness. 
When she leaned forward he couldn’t stop himself. He met her halfway, so softly, so gently. But as soon as his lips touched hers, all those feelings for her died. He felt nothing.
The switch in emotions almost gave him whiplash. It was dizzying. 
Underwhelming didn’t feel like the best word for it, but it was the only thing he could come up with. Nothing was exciting about the kiss, nothing revolutionary. It wasn’t like it felt wrong, but it didn’t feel right either. 
Disappointment was what Azriel felt. A little part of him was hoping that maybe the Acheron sister would be his mate. 
It seemed fitting, right? Three brothers, three sisters. But now that her lips were against his, he knew it wasn’t right.  
The spymaster pulls back, taking a step away. Looking at the beautiful woman. Any feelings beyond protectiveness had vanished from his body. Not even a tickle of butterflies when she smiled at him, so obviously delighted with the kiss they shared.
It wasn’t her fault, any male would be lucky to have Elaine. But it was clear to him, that male couldn’t be him.
“It’s getting late, we should head in.” Her face drops at his words, he doesn’t even look at her as he begins leading her inside and back to her room.  
He should say more, apologize, and tell her how he feels so she at least has a reason. Not just silence. But his brain was still reeling from the drastic change in emotions—or lack thereof. No words leave his mouth.
He walks Elaine up to her room. Bidding her a short goodnight before leaving the frowning woman to her own devices.
He kicked himself for hurting her, for allowing it to get that far. Elaine was just so tempting, and he was so hopeful. He kicked himself for that too. 
Of course he wouldn’t have a mate. 
He couldn't even give the poor woman an apology.
It wasn’t until he made it to his room, all the way up in the House of Wind, that he realized no shadows were with him. Not even a whisper reached his ears.  
They’d been with him as long as he could remember, and now they were just gone. 
He couldn’t place the feeling they left in their absence. But he knew he didn’t like it. 
*****
You knew it was unfair of you to be jealous. He didn’t know how deep your devotion ran.  He didn’t see life the way you had, you didn’t even think he saw you as anything other than a servant. 
It wasn’t unfair of you to feel sad about that. 
You’re nothing but shadows to him. When he’s always been everything to you. From the moment he first called to you, when you were barely a flicker of darkness.
But he would never see that. 
Azriel is sound asleep when you slip through the cracks of his door and into his room. 
He hadn’t even called to you. Did he even care you were gone? 
You find yourself taking form, a form of something he could relate to. A beautiful woman, someone like Elaine, or Mor. But you knew you looked nothing like them. Your darkness couldn't captivate beauty like that. Bold and enchanting, like the Morrigan. Pure and innocent, like Miss Elaine.
A sigh leaves your mouth as you curl up in your designated corner, looking at the hands that felt alien to you. Even if you showed him this form, saw him face to face, would he see you any differently?
You doubt it. You’d always be shadows to him.
You were so busy wallowing to yourself in the corner you didn’t see the shadowsinger stir at your sigh. Didn’t see him blink awake, or sit up and look around. 
But you felt it when his eyes settled on you for what felt like the first time. Heard the gasp that left his mouth. 
Your heart stops, frozen in fear for half a second, before it starts again, and you collapse into clouds of darkness.
*****
It was the middle of the night when Azriel woke Rhys up, shouting at him from outside his mental barriers. The worry in his voice was what had the High Lord jumping out of his mate's arms, waking Cassian, and heading to the abode carved into the top of the mountain. 
Azriel paces around the office room, running a hand through his hair. If he wasn’t so stressed he would’ve noticed that his shadows don’t try to comfort him like usual.
“What’s going on?” Rhys asks as he and Cassian walk into the room. Both are in different states of undress with looks of concern on each of their faces.
Cassian immediately notes Azriel’s distressed state, a rare sight considering the spymaster had long ago mastered staying calm and stoic in the face of trouble.
Cassian almost doesn't want to know what has the male so bothered.
“There was something in my room.” 
“What?!” The reactions are simultaneous. Any sign of sleep was immediately gone from both of their faces.
“I think it was a woman… I don’t know I didn’t get a good enough look. It disappeared right after I woke up.”  His fingers grip his hair. Heart still beating fast from the interaction. No one has ever snuck up on him like that. 
He's usually the one doing the sneaking.
His shadows, which had returned sometime after he’d fallen asleep, hadn’t even noticed the stranger, if they had they certainly didn’t warn him. He tries not to feel the nerves that fact struck in him.
“What do you mean, ‘disappeared’?” Cassian asks.
“Exactly what it sounds like, Cass. One second it was sitting in the corner of my room, the next it was gone.” Which made absolutely no sense, the wards surrounding House of Wind forbid winnowing of any kind. 
This was obviously a serious issue, the wards could either be faulty or someone could have found a way around them. 
“Are you sure you it wasn’t just a vivid dream?” Cassian asks, just trying to come with any better explanation.
“Was your encounter with Bryaxis just a vivid dream?” Azriel snaps. There was no way he imagined it. No way.
Rhys diffuses, stepping in with hands raised in surrender. Silently telling Azriel that they were on his side. “What did it look like when it disappeared? Did it look like it was winnowing?” 
The spymaster thinks about it. No. No, it didn’t. 
It was like its body blended with the darkness. Became the darkness. Almost like… Azriel’s eyes widen.
A shadow. 
“What? What is it, Az?” Rhys asks, probably noticing the revelation he was having from the look on his face. 
The shadowsinger's face becomes neutral, as calm as a person with his features was capable of looking. He shakes his head. “Maybe it was nothing. Sorry for waking you guys up. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Then he left without another word.
Rhys and Cassian share a look. A mix of bewilderment, concern, and exhaustion filled their features.
Azriel waits till he reaches his room to say anything, making sure to close the door behind him before a single word can leave his mouth. “Are you jealous? Is that it? Is that why you always leave around Elaine and Mor? Why you thought it would be fun to scare me and my family? Because I don't give you enough attention?” 
His shadows scatter, detaching from his body, hiding under his bed and in the darker nooks of his room. 
“Don’t hide now. I know it was you, that’s why you didn’t warn me.” He gazes into the dark corners of his room, glaring. How could they keep something like this from him? Hide the fact that they could take form? “Show yourself.”
There was an eerie pause, Azriel’s heart began beating faster. Then the fae lights started to flicker.
With each flash more and more shadows gathered before him. Building on each other. The lights went out completely.
When he turned them back on you stood before him.
The most beautiful creature he’d ever seen.
Pure darkness rose from your body, looking like black smoke. It encapsulates you, different from the way it encapsulates him. The darkness wasn't an extension of your body, it was a part of you, was you, moved with you like it was just another limb.
“My intention was not to scare.” You spoke in a whisper he’d heard many times. A whisper that was most loyal to him. That fulfilled his every beck and call.
Azriel was at a loss for words. You were stunning, a word he'd not known the true meaning of until he laid eyes on you.
“For years, centuries, I’ve followed you. I chose you as my singer. I answered your call.” Tears fill your eyes, but when they fall they dissipate into smoke. Blowing away with a wave of your hand. “I have shown you nothing but loyalty, and care. I’ve sat back while watching you love others and I’ve made peace with it, I’ve accepted our differences.” You suck in a deep breath and steady yourself. “But when I leave, you don’t care, don't even notice.” Your lips tremble, voice breaking as you ask him a question he couldn’t even think to answer. “After everything I’ve done, how can I mean so little to you?” 
Azriel’s mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water. He has so much to say but his vocal cords are tied. He did care, though it was clear he hadn’t shown it enough. He found himself thinking about all the little times the shadows had been there for him, comforting him, caring for him. And now he could put a face to those moments, it wasn’t just shadows, it was you that’d been there for him over the years.  
“So yes, I was sad and mad, and maybe a little jealous... But I wasn’t trying to scare you. I was just- I don’t know! Imagining? Yearning for a life I can’t have?” 
 The fae lights began blinking again making his heart jump with every flicker. He doesn't want you to disappear yet. He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it. 
“You don’t have to say anything, I don’t want an apology.” You lift a shadowy hand, wiping your face and steeling yourself. “Don’t fret, shadowsinger, I’m still your faithful servant. I couldn’t refuse your calls even if I wanted to. And I’m okay with that, it’s what I chose. Just don’t expect me to be there for you in moments where you can't even acknowledge my existence.” 
The lights flicker again and you're gone. 
Leaving Azriel to wonder if he’s lost you. Although, he never really had you in the first place.
next->
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neckromantics · 4 months
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Astarion loves to take baths with you.
It's one of his favorite ways to spend his downtime in general, honestly. Not only is the bath such a soothing place to be (you know once this man has the option, he's going to splurge on a vast collection of luxury soaps, oils, hair masks, and body scrubs- the list goes on.), but there's just something about it that makes him feel so normal? Mortal, almost.
If he lets himself soak just long enough, the heat from the water begins to nullify the vampiric chill that he's grown ever so used to. It's a pleasant warmth that works its way past pale skin- past tired muscles and aching sinew- and settles down deep into his very bones. For a few precious moments, he can convince himself that the eternal discomfort of undeath has made off for good this time.
And his hair always looks spectacular after wash day. It's a win-win scenario for him. So for his favorite person to be involved as well? Well, that just makes it all the more better.
-
This time, you're lounging on the floor nearby as he soaks- having stuck around after washing his hair for him as he oh-so-kindly requested of you. He's still a bit new at asking for small acts of kindness, so of course, you jumped at the chance to put your hands to good use. You were so careful not to catch your fingers on any snags as you worked a sweet-smelling soap through his wet curls, nails scrubbing away at his scalp even after it's all rinsed away just to hear him purr for you.
You're leaning against the bath, cheek cushioned against your forearm as it rests along the edge. The other swirls idly in the water- kept heated by clever use of prestidigitation (you'd recently picked up this cantrip for purposes such as this) and softened by the finest oils stolen gold could purchase. The curtains in your room are carefully drawn, and although your source of light comes from the multitude of candles scattered about, it's still enough to see the nice flush the heat brings to his skin. It's a little odd to see him so pinkened, and obviously, you can't help but stare no matter how hard you try not to.
It's the blood- your blood- that's pooling beneath the surface of his skin and giving him this radiance that many a man would covet.
Rose blooms a pretty bouquet on the smooth skin of his chest, up the length of his bared throat as he rests his head, and even reaches the tips of the pointy ears you so adore. Gods, even his knuckles are pinker when he reaches a hand out of the water to push his hair away from his forehead, and your gaze immediately follows the trail of soapy water as it glides down his wrist- drip-drops from his elbow and back into the bath.
Astarion looks so... peaceful like this.
Pale lashes rest upon warm cheeks as he reclines, face fallen soft, similar to how it does when he's deep in trance. A part of you wonders if this is how he might have looked back some two hundred years ago, before the affliction that was bestowed upon him by his old (now deceased, you celebrate mentally) master.
Eyes of ruby open just a crack, and you know that smug smile is coming before his lips so much as twitch.
"You know, my dear, most people consider staring to be rather rude." He purrs.
You're proud to say you don't miss a beat.
"Good thing you're nothing like most people then, hm?" Quick wit- a developing side effect from the many days spent traveling with the cheekiest rogue in all of Faerûn.
Quick as you may be– he is quicker. 
"Ah, right you are. Most people aren't nearly as beautiful as I am– one can hardly blame you for all of your slack-jawed gawping."
A half-huffed laugh is pulled out of you. Astarion loves to pretend he isn't just as delighted by your glossy-eyed admiring as he is amused.
And here you are again, suddenly distracted by the slightest bounce of silver curls when he tilts his head to watch your smile hit your eyes. His hair looks a bit longer when it's weighed down by bathwater and conditioning oils, almost to the point where some bits just barely brush his shoulders. You're so mesmerized that you have to touch him. The hand that's been playing in the water comes up to brush a few nearly translucent hairs away from where they've stuck to the curve of his neck, lingering afterward to carefully trace a finger down to his collarbone as you continue your oggle-fest.
Only just a moment longer, you tell yourself, and then you'll leave him be.
Yet, he doesn't let you pull away too far when you've finished. A deft hand comes up from the depths to capture yours the second you think about leaving him to his privacy, and you nearly jump at the unfamiliar temperature of its grasp.
He's warm.
Almost warmer than you, and it's honestly kind of jarring.
Astarion's still sporting that smile, although a bit kinder than before. If you weren't watching so closely, you'd miss how his eyes flash, uncharacteristically shy for just a moment before that heavy-lidded stare is set back in place. He brings your joined hands up to his mouth, petal-soft lips resting against the damp heel of your palm in a not-so-kiss.
They press for a long moment, and you can feel the appreciative hum he gives more than you can hear it. It occurs to you that he's probably just as dazed at your matching temperatures as you are.
"Get in here, darling." The command comes out as more of a question, really. You know in your heart that you have every right to refuse him if you really want to and that he wouldn't even consider holding it against you if you did.
But why in the hells would you ever do a thing as silly as that?
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hanafubukki · 7 months
Text
[Mildly suggestive]
Summary: Lilia loves you dearly yet intensely.
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Lilia watched as you dozed right next to him.
His coat laid over you.
Your hand was entwined with his as you slept.
He used his other to move some tendrils of hair away from your face.
You mumbled as you leaned into his slightest touch.
An inner dark stirring came to him, something he hasn’t felt in centuries.
This stirring he felt ever since the overblot incident with Malleus.
He can recall how his dream self was fascinated by you, by your light.
He recalled how his current self’s fondness for you mixed with the confusion and interest of his past self.
His need to possess and own reared it’s head in the dream realm, even now he can feel the shadows of it call to him.
To own
To possess
To claim
You were someone his past self couldn’t have due to the war, but yet you were a temptation he sought.
Lilia chuckled as he leaned towards you, kissing your forehead then leaning his head against yours.
“You don’t understand the power you hold over me.”
He recalled how his past constantly, furtively watched you. How it wasn’t Sebek nor Grim that he found threatening, but Silver. His own son.
How you leaned on him and Silver did the same. How you checked up on him and made sure he was okay.
How he, in return, cared for you just as much.
Lilia remembered the burning pit in his stomach.
“Jealous of my own son, oh precious, what you do to me.”
He recalled how he kicked Silver to distract the enemies and the slight satisfaction he felt before you screamed for his son.
The way you checked and made sure Silver was okay and the look of disappointment you sent him after, had his past self flinching.
He recalled how he wanted to take you and claim you. Over and over, until you knew nothing else but him. Wanted nothing else but him. Begged for him and he would have gladly provided.
Mine.
The word is whispered in the recess of his mind. Yes.
His.
As you stirred awake, blinking up at him. Bringing a hand up to cup his cheek, you called his name with your voice filled with sleep and love.
That was all it took.
Lilia felt himself give in to his inner and darker desires. Why deny himself? When you were right here? So willing and loving?
The hands clutching at him. Leaving marks of your own. The gasps and moans that you sung, expressed how willing you were.
It wasn’t enough, but it would be. He didn’t plan to stop until the lines that separated you two blurred into one.
Until he was quenched of his thirst for you, until you begged and pleaded for him, knowing nothing but him and pleasure.
He hoped you were ready, because this thirst wouldn’t be satisfied for a long while, and he very much loved the song you sang as he expertly loved you.
The past and current Lilia aligned, enraptured and enthralled in their desires to fully claim and possess you, only the moon a witness to these lovers.
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diejager · 5 months
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God! I love dark price, please write a part of dark price and reader with his son (I want a mini price 😔) I think it would be a boy 😅 but I'll leave it up to you <3 have a good day, best writer on Tumblr <3
Cage Cw: forced pregnancy, forced relationship, MENTION OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, DARKFIC, tell me if I missed any.
“Mama! Mama!” Two, childlike voices called out to you, their tones light and jovial with a child’s innocence, untainted by the horrors of the world.
Rapid pads followed after their screams, running steps heading your way as you turned to look at the source, putting down the knife you used to cut the ripe and fresh carrot for supper. Two pairs of hands grabbed at your pants, wide, blue eyes staring up at you with joy and wonder in their pretty eyes, they begged for attention.
You loved them. You truly did. From the lingering fat on their three-year old cheeks, their round, doe eyes in a stormy, blue shade, their chubby limbs and fingers holding onto you to the soft locks in the shade of your hair. From the adorable behaviour, pliant and obedient, always eager to listen to you if it meant receiving praises and kisses from you, to the innocence in their being, untouched by the cruelty you’ve seen when you were still working. But everything about them reminded you of him, of their father, of your husband. Your boy and daughter were spitting images of their father, only with your shade of hair.
“What wrong?” You crouched to their height, thumb rubbing the blue ink off the fat of your daughter’s cheek with your clean hand, you’d left the both of them in the living room with a box of coloured pens and paper to draw with.
“Hungry, Mama,” Olivia moaned, clutching her shirt with an adorable pout, reaching for her brother for help to convey her hunger.
You cooed at her, picking the both of them up, bobbing them until they sat comfortably on each side of you, arms wrapped around your shoulder as they cried and moaned about being hungry, about their tumtums making sound. You put them on separate chairs, handing them a small cracker to eat while your finished making your soup. Olivia and Arthur - you precious twins - liked the bland crackers, wanting something to bite into while their teeth grew, to stop the itch and discomfort of growing teeth.
“Mama’s almost finished, it’ll be done once Dada’s home, okay?” Your kids were smart, they understood words that most wouldn’t at this age. You chalked it up to them having your husband’s genes, his smart and quick decisions made it nearly impossible to beat him in a battle of wits, you learned that the hard way.
As if summoned by your voice, you heard the lock click, announcing your husband’s return from work. Hearing their father open the door, Arthur and Olivia jumped off their seats and rushed to the door, smiling and giggling, overjoyed to see their father home after leaving early in the morning. He bent down to kiss them, bringing them into his chest and blowing kisses, a few dozen on their forehead, another dozen on each cheek and a few on their pink nose, small and adorable.
“Go on, give Ma and Pa a moment, yeah?” He smiled softly, petting them on the head before coaxing them away, wanting a moment to hold you on his own.
He pulled you towards him, hands grasping onto your hips, strong and unyielding in his hold. He pressed his lips to your cheek, slowly trailing down to your lips with a searing and possessive kiss, demanding your attention and whole being. He nipped at your lip, teeth biting on your lower lip until you let out a small whimper, audible to him and you alone, protecting your children from Price’s darker side.
“John,” you mumbled, panting when he pulled away, your lips swollen from his rough kiss.
When you tried to move back, you were stopped by his grip on your nap, unaware that his hand snaked up to hold you still, keeping your face near his. His stormy eyes brewed with a cyclone, a violent and powerful torrent of emotions that had you shudder in fear and apprehension. He was strung high, pulled tight on the edges, his nerves burned to its core without any relief for him to come back down. You knew you would have to help him relax, to surrender your body to his whims.
“Let’s… let’s just eat dinner and get the kids to bed first, all right?”
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