Desuwings - Desu ☆

Sailor Moon Skylines

I’m playing Freya, Blood of the Tower. She’s evil, corpulent, and here to fuck shit up. TALIESIN JAFFE during Let’s Play Queen by Midnight!

Clifford coded 💸🧐

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do you think lucien begged for eris when jesminda was taken in? (first it was just pleading — she didn’t do anything wrong. it was me. i wouldn’t leave her alone. punish me. please, father, my lord, punish me. but then, when the screaming started, it was — where is eris? where is eris? please, eris, please, you said you would protect me. you said you said you said.) do you think beron told lucien that eris was invited to join in but decided it wasn’t worth his time to deal with the low-born faerie filth his brother defiled himself with? do you think beron told lucien that eris knew what was happening and simply didn’t care enough to stop it, that eris was upstairs, drunk and entertaining courtiers? do you think lucien was so fragile in that moment that he believed it without question? do you think lucien heard eris screaming as he was being punished for refusing to participate, but lucien didn’t recognize them because jesminda’s had finally stopped, and there was nothing left for him in the world, let alone a brother who was not there when he begged?

You are the Stab Wizard—you create magic by stabbing. Fire? Stab the air so hard it ignites. Teleportation? Stab a hole in reality and tear it open. Explosion? Stab an atom to split it apart. The other wizards are unsure what to make of this.

🔥🔥🔥 🥵

Hello, absolutely love your writing - Drabble

Something based on time traveler’s husband, but the reader is the time traveler and she can end up in bad places or beautiful places (you choose), Azriel all worried maybe, fluff and angst?

Sounds kinda long for a drabble, i don’t know haha 🤍

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Angst, references to trauma

a/n: Hi! :) I made this sooooo angsty lol oopsie

Masterlist♡

____________________________________________

Never in Azriel’s life did he think it would come to this. 

He held you against his chest as sobs wracked your body, your fingers gripping his leathers with so much force he was surprised the material didn’t rip.

It had been a long one this time. 

Three weeks ago, you were sitting with him on a bench by the Sidra, a small bag of feed in your lap as you spread it out for the animals along the water. He had looked away, only for a moment, but when he turned back the feed was emptying on the ground and your body was gone—lost to a time and place he would not know of until you returned. 

Only, you did not return as you usually did. 

Most of the time, you were gone for a few hours, days at most. Azriel would spend the entire unspecified allotment with a pit in his chest and an inability to swallow, too inundated by preemptive grief and fear that eating and drinking and breathing felt impossible. But slowly, after being mated for some years, the time became more expected, more manageable. You would return exhausted but safe, and Azriel would give you a day before expecting a story. 

But this time, this time, you appeared before him as you always did—your home base, you had called him—and you collapsed into a heap of tears and gasped sobs.

Azriel had tried to parse out what was wrong. He had started with words—simple, easy-to-understand questions, but when it became clear that you weren’t even aware that he was speaking, he moved to touch. He pressed his hands along your back and hair, trailed his lips across your cheeks and dried the dampness there with his fingers. He held you, gods did he hold you, because you were in front of him and alive and every day felt as if that truth would be ripped from him. 

But you still cried. 

You cried to the point that Azriel was sure your head ached. 

“What about Rhysand?” Azirel stressed, eventually resorting to anything else that could help you. “Cassian? Mor? Who would help, angel?” 

Your cries mellowed some, but they were still awful, painful hiccuping breaths that tore a hole in Azriel’s heart. He collected your face in his hands and held you there, a panic in his gaze as he stared at your swollen eyes—at the redness that he had missed when you first fell into his arms. It looked inflicted and unnatural on your face. 

“Are you hurt?” he asked. “Where did you go, my love? Tell me.” 

You turned in his grip, eyes brushing over his fingers as they rubbed soothing lines into your face, and then you cried harder. 

It was all Azriel could do to hold you against him. 

When another sound started to leave your lips, Azriel strained his ears to catch it. Over and over. A repetitive loop that he could not make sense of. He leaned you away from his chest and the words became clear.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Azriel. I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” 

“My darling, what?” he begged, shaking his head along with his words. “My love, darling, please. What could you possibly be sorry for? Where did you go?”

You took in a harrowing, shaking breath. “It took me there. To that time.” 

It, you always called it, because you never got to choose what point in time you went to. Something else dragged you along at its whim, and that was why the act always filled Azriel with so much dread. He had feared this—whatever you had seen to render you so inconsolable. 

“To where?” he all but whispered, afraid that you would lose yourself again. 

“Your hands, Azriel. For weeks I watched—” Azriel stared back in horror as you clutched at the material of your shirt as if it burned. “I watched and I—I couldn’t do anything. You were so small and I screamed and fought but there was nothing I could do.” 

Something in Azriel fractured that he never thought would heal. 

Before him, his mate grieved a past he hoped would never fully be revealed. You lived through it and were made to watch, whatever power that sent you away cruel and vicious and unrighteous. A lick of anger flamed through him, but something stopped him from feeling it fully. 

“No,” you breathed out, staring down at your arms. “No, Azriel, I can’t go. I can’t—not right now.” 

Your fingers and hands and arms slowly morphed into a hazy glare, and Azriel stared down at them with as much desperation as you did. He reached for you, but his touch went through your limbs and he had to catch himself on the floor beside you. 

There was nothing he could do—absolutely nothing. He and Rhysand had enlisted the help of the Day Court not too long ago, and the entire curse-breaking legion hadn’t found a way to keep you from this fate. 

So, Azriel knew what came next.

He knew that this broken rendition of his mate was fading and he didn’t have the time to pick up the pieces. 

His breath came out in fast puffs as he gathered you into his arms and spoke low by your ear. “It’s going to be okay. I’m going to be right here when you get back. I’ll wait right here and you’ll be back so soon, okay?” 

You nodded against his shoulder, but Azriel felt the tension in your body as you went to speak. “Okay, yes. You’ll be here.” 

“I’ll be right here, my love. I’m safe here. You’re safe and you’ll come home. I love you. So much. 

“I love you—” 

Azriel’s arms dropped.

You were gone.

Winnowing and flying has taken away the opportunity of riding a horse together. Elucien is the perfect couple to bring this trope back.

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