“Imagine Being Loved By Me.”

—  𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐅𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒

"I’ve tried to hide it, but my heart betrays me every time you’re near—I’m completely, hopelessly in love with you."

"I want to be the reason you look at your phone and smile."

"Loving you is like breathing… and I’ve been holding my breath for so long, I can’t do it any longer."

"Every time I look at you, I realise I don’t want to spend another moment of my life without you."

"I don’t know how or when it happened, but you’ve completely stolen my heart."

"I used to wonder if love was real… and then you came along and made it the only thing I believe in."

"Every part of me aches to tell you how much I love you, even if it’s terrifying."

"Loving you is both the easiest and hardest thing I’ve ever done."

"I keep pretending I’m fine, but the truth is I’m in love with you, and it scares me."

"I don’t know if you feel the same way, but I had to say it—I’m in love with you."

"The truth is, every part of me belongs to you."

"I tried to deny it, tried to push it away, but I can’t—I’m hopelessly in love with you."

"You’re my first thought every morning and my last before I sleep."

"I think about you more than I’d like to admit. I think… maybe I’m in love with you."

"There’s a quiet peace in my heart every time I think of you, and it feels like love."

"I never expected to feel this way, but here I am, confessing that I’m in love with you."

"My heart races, my hands shake, and all I want to say is ‘I love you’."

"You’re the reason I believe in love, and I don’t know how to keep that to myself any longer."

"All I know is that life feels brighter, warmer, and more alive whenever I’m with you. I think I’m in love with you."

"I’ve tried to act normal, but the truth is, you’ve captured my heart."

"I think I’ve fallen in love with you, and every day I fall a little more."

"Loving you feels as natural as breathing, and it’s taken me far too long to say it."

"You’re my heart’s greatest wish, and it’s time you knew—I’m in love with you."

"I feel a warmth in my heart every time you’re near… it’s love, isn’t it?"

"I don’t know how to say it gently, so here it is: I love you. I think I always have."

"If I don’t tell you this now, I’m afraid I never will—I’m in love with you."

"There’s no one else I think about like this, no one else I feel so deeply for. It has to be love."

"I don’t need you to say it back; I just needed you to know... I’m in love with you."

"Every moment we’re together feels like magic, and that magic is love, isn’t it?"

"I’d rather risk everything and tell you the truth—I’m in love with you."

"I was fine on my own, but now that I’ve met you, I can’t imagine a life without you."

"I’d move mountains if it meant I could tell you every day how much I love you."

"Loving you feels like the most honest thing I’ve ever done."

"The truth is, my heart has belonged to you from the very first moment we met."

"I can’t promise that I won’t be afraid, but I can promise that I love you."

"Every day without you feels like a day wasted. I’m in love with you, and I want the world to know."

"If there’s one thing I’m certain of, it’s that I love you with everything I am."

"You’ve woven yourself into my heart, and there’s no turning back—I love you."

"Loving you is like coming home to a place I never knew I missed until I met you."

"It feels like my whole life has been leading up to this moment—to tell you that I love you."

"I’m scared, I’m nervous, but more than anything, I’m in love with you."

"I didn’t know it was possible to feel so deeply until you walked into my life."

"I could search the world and never find someone who makes me feel like you do. I love you."

"I never believed in fate until I realised how perfectly you fit into my life."

"I could wait forever to say it, but I don’t want to anymore—I love you."

"Loving you feels like the answer to a question I didn’t even know I had."

"I love you, (name)."

conservative christians are so annoying because they want to be persecuted for their religion desperately but they live in the most aggressively christian place on earth. so they'll be like "I can't believe you hate me for being christian" and you'll respond "no I don't care what your religion is, I was raised protestant just like everyone else around here, I hate you because you voted for a fascist who wants to kill everyone I love and start world war three" and they'll just keep on with "why do you hate me for being christian" "I literally don't, it's the fascism thing. I'm going to stop speaking with you." "you can try to punish me for my faith but I will never abandon the LORD." "good for you keep it up but could you stop voting for fascists while you do that." "this is just like when the romans fed us to lions."

Art: frostbite.studios

DPR IAN: peanut butter & tears (2023)

Something Precious

Azriel x Reader

word count: 2.1k content: [ nun crazy just reader having mega insecure thoughts lol ] summary: Azriel has always been steady, unwavering—but the way you look at him makes something shift. Small moments, fleeting words, a tension neither of you acknowledge… until it’s impossible for him to ignore. author's note: IM BACK BABEYY!!!!! this ones a bit short but i thought it'd be a good one to help get myself writing again. i really like how it turned out, just a nice, sweet lil fic nothin crazy :) also not beta'd bc i just needed to get something out NEOW. hope this is to your liking anon thank u for the req!! <3 ✦ . Masterlist . ✦

The fire crackled softly in the hearth, its golden glow casting shifting patterns across the walls of the House of Wind. The night outside was crisp and quiet, Velaris resting under a blanket of stars, but here, in this small cocoon of warmth and firelight, everything felt still. 

Azriel lay stretched out on the couch, wings spilling over the cushions in an easy sprawl. His shadows had retreated for the night, content to flicker lazily at the edges of the room, leaving nothing between you but firelight and the slow, steady rhythm of his breath. 

You lay draped across his chest, your weight a comfortable, grounding thing. His heartbeat thudded beneath your cheek, slow and sure, and the warmth of his skin seeped through the thin fabric of his shirt. One of his hands rested at the small of your back, tracing lazy circles under your sweater, while the other curled lightly around the nape of your neck, fingertips brushing idly over your skin. 

You sighed, nuzzling deeper against him, letting the scent of cedar and night-chilled wind wrap around you like a second blanket. Your fingers trailed absentmindedly over his ribs, feeling the rise and fall of his breathing, and when you finally lifted your gaze to meet his, your heart did that ridiculous little stutter it always did. 

Because Azriel was looking at you like that again—like you were something precious. Something worth holding onto. 

The firelight flickered in his hazel eyes, turning them molten, but there was something softer underneath. Something quiet and steady, tucked between the affection in his gaze and the slight curve of his mouth. You weren’t sure you’d ever get used to it. 

You exhaled, barely above a whisper, as if afraid you might shatter the fragile silence. “I can’t believe you’re here with me.”

It wasn’t meant to be a confession. Just a passing thought, one that had been lingering in the back of your mind since the moment you started whatever this was—since the moment you realized someone like him could want someone like you. 

But Azriel stilled beneath you. It was subtle, just a flicker of tension in his fingertips, a pause in the slow drag of his hand against your back. Gone in an instant. 

You wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been laying on his chest, if you hadn’t felt the way his heartbeat faltered for just a second before steadying again. You didn’t call attention to it, just as Az hadn’t. Hadn’t asked what you meant. 

Instead, he shifted slightly, adjusting his wings so they wrapped around you both, pulling you deeper into the warmth of his body. His fingers resumed their slow, absentminded tracing, his thumb sweeping over the back of your neck in a way that made you shiver. 

“Where else would I be?” he murmured. 

You huffed a soft laugh, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. Anywhere. Everywhere. Someone like you doesn’t end up with someone like me.

But you didn’t say that. Just let yourself sink into his warmth, let yourself savor the way his arms tightened around you, as if holding you closer would make you understand. 

Because Azriel didn’t know—not yet. But he was starting to notice. 

And he didn’t like it. 

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Dinner at the River House was always an event. Not a formal one by any means—the kind where the table was too small for all the elbows knocking together where laughter wove itself between the clinking of glasses and the scrape of silverware. Where the air smelled of roasted lamb and rosemary, of spiced wine and honeyed bread, warmth curling through the candlelit room like an embrace.

Nesta and Cassian had somehow gotten into a debate over who was worse at flirting—Rhysand or Azriel—which had quickly turned into a full-blown conversation about all their past entanglements. 

“You’re all fools,” Amren said simply, swirling the deep red in her glass. “None of you were half as charming as you thought you were.”

Cassian scoffed. “I was charming.”

Nesta didn’t even look up as she speared a piece of meat. “Debatable.”

Across the table, Mor snickered. “He was charming, in the way a golden retriever puppy is charming.”

Azriel smirked into his wine glass. Cassian pointed at him accusingly. “You don’t get to laugh. You spent centuries avoiding love like the Mother herself would smite you for it.”

“That’s because he’s got high standards,” Mor shot back. “Honestly, I’m just surprised Az’s even dating.”

Feyre hummed, shifting Nyx higher against her shoulder as he dozed, his tiny fingers curled into the fabric of her sweater. “Dating? I’m surprised he’s managed to keep someone around long enough to–”

“Feyre.” His voice was soft, but the weight behind it was enough to cut her off. His expression was still easy, his lips curling at the edges, but there was something there—something firm, something protective. 

Your stomach twisted. 

The words weren’t meant to hurt. You knew that. They were lighthearted, Feyre smiling at her brother-in-law, the way siblings poked fun without malice. And Azriel had cut her off before she could finish—before she could say something that might have struck deeper.

But it was already unraveling in your head.

High standards. 

Avoiding love.

Managed to keep someone around long enough.

Because is that all this is? A fling? Something temporary? Another short-lived thing in a string of them? 

Your grip tightened subtly around your glass, the air suddenly too warm, your pulse thrumming a little too fast. And before you could stop yourself, before you could sit with the spiraling thoughts for even a second longer, you laughed. Too loud. Too sharp. A sound that cut through the warmth of the room rather than settling into it. 

“Yeah, just wait until he realizes how much of a pain I am.”

Silence, just for a beat. 

Azriel’s head snapped toward you, sharp enough that you felt it before you saw it—the weight of his gaze landing on you, the furrow in his brows, the shift in the air between you. But you didn’t look. Couldn’t. 

Rhysand chuckled, breaking the brief pause, shaking his head. “Yeah, right. You’re practically a saint for dealing with him.”

Cassian smirked, lifting his glass. “Agreed.”

Laughter rippled through the table again, and just like that, the moment passed—folded itself into the fabric of the conversation, buried beneath the easy back and forth, the scraping of plates, the pouring of wine. 

Azriel let it go. Again. 

But it lingered.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Azriel eventually pushed past that uneasy feeling. It wasn’t a big deal—not really. He figured you probably hadn’t even meant anything by it. But something about it rubbed him the wrong way, settled uneasily in his chest, and he couldn’t explain why. 

But then it happened again. 

And again. 

Little things, small enough that they would have slipped through the cracks if he hadn’t been paying attention. The way you waved off his compliments, dodging them with a laugh like they were jokes rather than truths. The way your smile sometimes faltered, like you’d caught yourself enjoying the moment a little too much. The way your fingers curled into the fabric of your sleeve when he touched you, like you were steadying yourself. 

And then there was the way you looked at him—that was what unsettled him the most. 

Because he was used to being looked at in a thousand different ways—calculating, cautious, reverent, fearful. People looked at him and saw a legend, a warning, a weapon. He’d spent a lifetime standing on the outskirts of things, watching them unfold from the shadows, knowing that no matter how close he got, he would always be separate.

But you looked at him like he was something untouchable. 

Like you didn’t quite believe he was real. 

Like you were waiting for the moment he’d come to his senses and walk away. 

And Azriel—who had spent years mastering the art of patience, of knowing when to hold back—found himself growing more and more frustrated. 

Not at you, gods, never at you. 

But at the way you’d convinced yourself that you were less. 

That he was something more. 

It all came to a head one evening in the training ring. 

You weren’t training, just sitting on one of the benches, legs tucked beneath you, book resting open in your lap. You liked being here with him, and he liked having you here, even if neither of you’d ever said it out loud. He could feel your eyes on him as he moved through his drills, the steady weight of your attention like a tether pulling him back to earth. 

When he finally finished, muscles burning, wings flexing as he rolled his shoulders, he walked over to you. You grinned up at him, eyes warm despite the sharp winter air, and handed him a cup of water without a word.

Az took a long drink before murmuring, “You staring at me again?”

You scoffed, though the way your mouth twitched told him you were fighting a smile. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

He smirked, resting a hand on the bench’s backrest beside you, bracing himself as he leaned down. “Too late.”

You made a face, but the slight pink creeping up your neck gave you away. He kissed you softly, just a brush of lips, tasting warmth and wind and something undeniably you.

And then you said it.

“I still don’t know what you see in me.”

You said it casually. Offhanded. Like it wasn’t a confession. Like it wasn’t the worst thing you could’ve said.

Azriel  went still.

The words settled like a stone in his chest, heavy and suffocating. And suddenly, every little moment from the past few weeks clicked into place—the deflected compliments, the hesitations, the way you looked at him like you were waiting for him to wake up and realize you weren't enough.

The frustration that had been simmering in the back of his mind finally snapped.

His voice was quiet, but firm. “Don’t do that.”

You blinked, tilting your head slightly. “Do what?”

“That.” He straightened, looking down at you, jaw tight. “Talk about yourself like that.”

You shifted, clearly thrown off by the sudden change in his tone. “Az, I was just—”

“I mean it.” His wings flared slightly, a flicker of restrained emotion. “You say things like that all the time. Like you don’t think you belong here. Like I’m some…” He exhaled sharply, shaking his head. “Some gift the Mother decided to bestow on you.”

You opened your mouth, but he wasn’t finished.

“You don’t think I notice, but I do,” he said, voice softer now, rough around the edges. “I can see it in the way you dodge compliments, the way you downplay yourself like you’re the lucky one—as if I’m not the one who should be grateful every damn day that you want to be with me.”

You swallowed hard, looking away. “That’s not—”

“Look at me.”

You did.

And when your eyes met, something inside Az ached.

Because you really didn’t see it.

Didn’t see what he saw every time he looked at you—the quiet strength, the unwavering kindness, the way you fit so effortlessly into the parts of him that had always felt empty.

Didn’t see how, before you, he had spent centuries standing on the outside looking in, wondering if he would ever have anything or anyone just for himself.

Didn’t see how you were already everything.

Azriel exhaled, slow and steady, forcing himself to find the words. “You are not some… temporary thing I decided to entertain myself with.” He took your hand, curling your fingers between his own. “You’re not lucky to have me.” He squeezed, firm but gentle. “I’m lucky to have you.”

Your lips parted slightly, but no words came out. You looked like you wanted to argue, to tell him he had it backwards, but there was something raw in his expression—something that made you hesitate.

Az lifted your joined hands and pressed a slow, lingering kiss to the back of yours, his lips brushing your skin as he whispered, “Stop acting like you’re less than.”

Silence stretched between you, heavy with everything unsaid.

Finally, you exhaled shakily and leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his. “I don’t know how to stop feeling like I am.”

Az closed his eyes, letting himself breathe you in. And then he whispered, “Then let me remind you.”

And he would.

As many times as it took.

🔥🔥🔥 🥵

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?

LONELY IS THE MUSE Halsey | VEVO Official Live Performance

'he would not fucking say that' maybe he would if he knew he was starring in his very own porn fic for the sole purpose of delighting some freaks on archive of our own dot org. maybe he'd play it up for the cameras. ever consider that

YUNJIN HOT, 250314