WorldofWakingDreams Writing

SUMMARY:

Ilya and Shane have a daughter, Mia. Mia is a teenager. In trying to teach Mia the value of money and hard work, Ilya has a momentary slip of the tongue. He also has a slip of the mind, straight back to being asked for money by his entire family. It was only because Shane put the idea there, though, he swears. ***This was inspired by a TikTok I saw. (More details in AN).

EXCERPT:

They were the words of a teenager, normal and not at all malintentioned. At that moment, however, Ilya didn’t hear his daughter. His Mia. He heard the word of his father, his brother, grumbling thousands of miles away across phone lines for which Ilya had paid. Reality blurred. Consonants and breaths churned in Ilya’s heart and in Ilya’s gut. Focus, focus.  Focus.  There was a lesson here Ilya had to teach. A lesson for his daughter - he had to keep this strictly emotion-free. The only problem was, the emotions were already flowing. This was a hall Ilya had walked before. This was a conversation Ilya knew all too well. You have so much. Just send the money. You have so much and we have nothing. It’s not fair, leaving us for dead while you live life up in North America.  “No. I said No. You do not get access to ATM Papa today. Funds denied. Incorrect PIN. You will not be spoiled like Andrei.” Ilya didn’t yell, not exactly. His words were sharp, though. They were sharper than any he’d ever used with his daughter. “Go to your room. The worst Papa.” Ilya huffed. He regretted every single word he spoke the minute they’d left his mouth. “Papa.” Mia gaped. Her voice wobbled ever so slightly. Guilt already singed Ilya’s esophagus. He cast his eyes down to the pile of laundry he no longer cared about. Maybe it was the slightly warm tinge the air took on today that reminded Ilya of his younger departures back to Russia.  Maybe it was the date. Today was the anniversary of his father’s death, after all. Ilya had stopped counting calendar years sometime after his retirement. His past didn’t matter so much, not any more. Time had healed Ilya’s wounds in a way Ilya never thought it would - never thought it could, really. Every once in a while, they reopened though. They bled and screamed until they were raw and gaping. They stained everything in sight, ruined everything in their path. His wounds weren’t generally perilous any longer; Ilya’s new life, the only one that truly counted for anything, was separate and away from the splash zone. Or so he thought. Ilya only thought, because now tears shone bright and heinous in Mia’s eyes. Ilya was stupid, and wrong, and… and a horrible father. His past wounds, those he had worked so hard to shield his wonderful daughter from, had opened right in front of her. They had bled onto her.

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Synopsis: Troy Barrett is out for the remainder of the season with a broken leg. He isn't as upset about this as he is about the fact that his body is probably going to change as a result of his mandated rest. Troy's body, and what he can do with it, is really all he has ever felt he has to offer Harris. Harris himself has made jokes about Troy being 'arm candy.'

Now, Harris has to care for Troy?

Certainly, this can't end well. Or can it?

Excerpt

Grunt ripping through Troy’s chest, he tried not to think about that hit he took on the ice four weeks ago. He tried not to remember the crunch he felt in his lower leg. He begged the medic’s words not to replay on that horrible endless loop they’d ingrained in Troy’s mind.

Out for the rest of the season.

The words never listened. Troy’s phone buzzed out his ring pattern for the fourth time this hour in his pocket. Wiebe and the team were in practice - it wasn’t any of them. It wasn’t his mother, and it most certainly wasn’t his father. That left only Troy’s perfect boyfriend Harris, who was undoubtedly calling to see if Troy needed help again. Maybe Troy could burden Harris even more than he already had. Upon first introduction, Troy was an extra assignment at work. This made sense, Troy supposed.

Of course Troy felt a bit guilty ignoring Harris’s calls, but… Well, Harris had just gotten a promotion. Harris had just gotten into a routine he was proud of; he was growing a life of which he was proud. Tory tried not to think about how Harris was growing that life without Troy. No. No Troy would order takeout tonight and drop himself into his bathtub like a beached whale. Again.

The phone buzzed again. Unfortunately, none of that was reason enough for Troy to ignore Harris’s calls. Four weeks of nothing but rest had rendered Troy’s body… lacking. Harris fell in love with a Troy who was built for endurance. Harris fell for a Troy who had abs Michelangelo himself might have used as inspiration. Slowly, Troy felt that all slipping away, and he wasn’t quite ready to stare Harris’s quiet disappointment in the face yet. It wasn’t like Troy was ready to return to training tomorrow either. He had two more months of sitting doing nothing until he could even begin physical therapy.

There would undoubtedly be long months between now and the start of next season where Troy looked unbearably soft. There was nothing wrong with that, really… except Troy was Troy. He wasn’t stupid; half of what he brought to his relationship was his physique. Hell, Troy’s physique was all he brought forward at the beginning of the relationship. He wasn’t ready for Harris to be left with just Troy’s rather taciturn personality. Even thinking about the more physical facets of their relationship left Troy reeling. Troy couldn’t even… He couldn’t physically…

“They don’t want to hear from me.” There was no pit, no disappointment in Azriel’s voice. It was fact, pure and unadulterated. “Whether I am technically in a seat of power or not.”

“Do you think a single fae ever wanted to hear from my father? Higher or lesser,” Eris winced, “sorry - that didn’t sound right. I didn’t mean to use that particular verbiage.”

“Eris.” The soft hairs on Eris’s forearms tickled Azriel’s cheekbones as Eris fretted to remove the old blanket from Azriel’s bed. Azriel noted the slight tremble that afflicted each of Eris’s fingers. Eris danced around the bed, quickly draping the new blanket atop Azriel. His skin never touched Azriel’s again. A travesty. Eris’s breathing hitched as he immediately backed away from Azriel’s bedside.

Chapter Excerpt:

“How long are you going to play at this, Azzy?” Fionn wafted pungent cigarette plumes around Azriel’s cheeks as he purred low and sinister. “You should go.” Azriel stiffened, broad shoulder knocking brusquely into Fionn’s still slightly purple jaw.  “Or what? You’ll sic your social-clout-on-legs on me again?” Fionn snarled, even as Azriel’s fist threaded into the collar of his shirt.  “Don’t talk about Eris like that.” Azriel’s blood raced hot and fast as he drew Fionn’s face closer to his own. He ignored the spit flicking out from between his front teeth like a rabid dog as he his. Azriel’s forehead slammed into Fionn’s.  “Eris isn’t a delicate little thing, Azzy.” Fionn chuckled. “I would know. Believe me. He is notorious in certain circles. It might not have been my thighs he was opening, but the mouth attached to the ones he did open talked.” Azriel flinched as Fionn’s thumb drifted to the corner of his mouth. His teeth snapped as Fionn dared a fingertip to explore inside. “Don’t fucking touch me.” Azriel snarled. 

Excerpt:

“The key is in the dresser.” Eris relaxed into the mattress, arms still stretched above his body in anticipation. “I don’t really have a lot of rules. Stop choking me if I pass out, I suppose,” Eris smirked.

“I’m serious.” Azriel shifted, trying to hide his growing hardness in vain. Eris loosed a silent sigh of marked relief that Azriel was ostensibly enjoying himself already.

“As am I. I told you before,” Eris bucked his hips, “I like it rough. You can bite me, slap me, choke me. Use me. Use my body for your pleasure.” Eris squirmed again, flexing his wrists. “Please use me.”

EXCERPT:

CHAPTER 16 UP NOW!!! 

CLICK HERE TO READ CHAPTER ON AO3

EXCERPT:

Azriel knew that Fionn knew. 

Fionn knew that he’d won. 

He won as he laid there. He won as he got up and crossed over to Azriel. He won as he stood just a bit too close, and leaned over Azriel. Fionn’s breath sent shivers running down Azriel’s spine.

“It would probably be in your best interest just to tell him to take you home now.” Fionn draweled. “We wouldn’t want all of your secrets just to spill out, would we?” Fionn laughed at a joke only he got. “Those videos still calm me down every night, Azzy.” Fionn’s hand wavered above Azriel’s shoulder, but dropped as he hazarded a glance back at Eris. “Or maybe it’s more accurate to say they get me up. Thank you for that.” Azriel slumped away an inch; that inch ceded a mile of power to Fionn. Every inch always had. “Run away while he still wants you, Az. I’ll be here - as always - when he gets bored.”

‘When’. Not ‘if’. Flickers of those videos flashed through Azriel’s mind. He had told no one, of course. Azriel hadn’t even told his own brothers they existed. It was an easier pill to wallow, Azriel thought, one’s brother being pathetically broke than it was to know those existed. 

Chapter 15 - CLICK HERE FOR FULL CHAPTER

EXCERPT

[Azriel]

Leaving Eris’s apartment felt so wrong, neigh near criminal. Unfortunately, both men had to work. Of course, Eris had to go attend a slew of high powered meetings. Worlds like ‘acquisitions’ and ‘liquidity’ were sure to be thrown around. Azriel? Well, he was going to get people drunk.

Again.

Fast money was great, of course, but there was something that was agonizingly soul destroying about clocking in night after night to watch as people drank their memories and personalities into oblivion. Beer and wine, Azriel could enjoy without ramification, but liquor… If anyone had asked Azriel, he would have said he hated the taste of liquor. He abhorred the smell.

Whiskey, Jack Daniels specifically, smelled like his father’s anger. It smelled like his father’s lapses in memory… that just so happened to coincide with Azriel’s most memorable nights. Yet, Azriel needed money. Desperately if he wanted to stay with Eris.

He would move himself up in the world. He would.

Correction, Azriel thought as Eris’s car service dropped Azriel at the front doors of Crimson Shadows, I need a miracle. In his soul, Azriel knew he was no match for Eris. Not really. Of course they had exchanged some wonderful words last night. But those words had been exchanged alone, undercover of the dark night sky. There was no proof. There were no witnesses.

All the same, it felt good to hear.

Infinite firsts.

Kiss me.

Which home?

They were all such pretty words from such angelic lips. It was a double edged sword, both a blessing and a curse. Azriel would blaze the memory of how those words felt to hear into his heart. They’d be there to reflect on forever.

An Azris Fic

EXCERPT:

“What’s this?” Azriel’s finger landed on a small trio of hatchmark cuts on Eris’s hip. They were white and raised, faded by time. Still, they clung to his skin, a memory of his past.

“Uh. Scars.” Eris swallowed.

“Who gave them to you?” Azriel’s eyes narrowed.

“The ones on my hip? Me.” Eris dropped his eyes. “The ones on my back? My father.”

“I should have stabbed him back.” Azriel seethed, thumb running soothingly over the old scars on Eris’s hip.

“You would’ve gone to jail.” Eris reasoned.

“He would’ve gone to the cemetery. Fair trade, it seems.” Azriel knelt, kissing Eris’s hip reverently.. Eris couldn’t move. “Talk to me, Eris. What do you need?”

“Can you turn the light off?” Azriel quirked a brow. He stared up from his kneeling position into Eris’s eyes. He nodded once, and then flicked the light off.

“I’m going to turn the shower on now, Eris. Do you want me to leave-” Azriel stood, reaching behind the glass door. Steam immediately filled the room.

“No.” Eris gasped. “No. No don’t leave.”

“I meant the bathroom, Eris. Do you want me to go into the hallway or something?” Azriel’s words were sparse, but each was intentional. Each was calculated. Where Eris had been raised in eloquence, Azriel was raised in economics of speech.

“Stay. Here.” Eris finally said. “I don’t want to be alone. I shouldn’t be alone right now, I don’t think. I’m not sure what would happen, actually.” Eris cursed the admission. Weakness would get him nowhere.

“Okay.”

Chapter 14 us UP!! Complete with angst and smut. Enjoy!!

EXCERPT:

“No.” Azriel interjected. Eris jolted. “No.” Azriel said again, slower this time.

“There’s really nothing to be embarrassed about. I’ll take the blame.” Eris turned to the door, just stomach dropping and the bond straining in his heart. 

“Eris.” Azriel said firmly. “You did not hurt me. Look at me.”

He couldn’t, though. He couldn’t turn. He didn’t dare. “You rang for help, though.” Eris didn’t allow the breath out of his lungs, as if it might anchor him to life.

“I rang because I thought you’d left. You took a while and… well I thought if I started out behaving my body with a healer sooner.” Azriel’s voice trailed off, shrugging. Eris stood still, not breathing.

“Why wouldn’t I come back?” Eris spoke, voice choked. A lump had somehow formed in his throat. That lump threatened to crush his heart. His soul. Azriel had always been the only person who believed in him; he had always inexplicably trusted Eris fully. 

Lost that too I guess. Eris thought wryly.

“It’s really nothing, Eris.” Azriel said, urging on the fingers that gripped around Azriel’s blanket. Eris’s knuckles strained whiter.

“I took too long to find you. I know.” Chin pointing to the far wall, Eris stared at nothing as he spoke. “You found me immediately and I couldn’t do the same.”