#And we would get a emotional bonding moment between the two

[thecluelessdoctor]

Unhappy Campers is indeed a disgrace of an episode and made me hate both Moxxie and Millie even though I used to love them both and their relationship before it. What are your thoughts on it?

Oh my god someone who agrees.

I was already pretty wonky on how much I liked M and M, but after unhappy campers it just put a weird taste in my mouth.

So many things about their relationship were forced for plot reasons that never get addressed, and are suddenly fixed because of one shitty apology from Moxxie.

Like we had ZERO signs of Millie having depression!! Nothing!! And in a show like this, thats something you need to at least make watchers think is a possibility!! And then, even after Millie basically says she has depression and mentally is really bad, Moxxie does NOTHING!!! NOTHING. not until Millies stupid big show that had no plot relevance what so ever, where makes a shitty apology, and Millie immediately forgives him!! Yes I understand you shouldn't hold grudges, but this was a serious thing!! Moxxie was being selfish (which is REALLY out of character) and being a complete asshole! It kinda sucks too because a line in Moxxie's song in the final of season one was 'i'll never take you for granted' and what does he do?? Take her for granted!! But the thing is, the show didn't show this as bad, feeding into it even more!!

The episode in general sucked from the horrible, horrible jokes, to poor writing, to plot, it just sucked.

Another thing that makes me so mad about this episode is how it completely sweeps what the hell happened to Stolas under the rug!! Like in the beginning I originally thought Blitz was breaking into the hospital Stolas' was in!! That would have made for something interesting if they keep wanting to feed into stolitz!! Personally I don't think stolitz should be a thing, at least not in the way how Helluva boss is trying to make it happen. It feels way to forced, and it's incredibly wrong because Stolas as a person and character is HORRIBLE.

Or! If they REALLY wanted the whole barbie plot line, THEY SHOULD HAVE FOCUSED THE EPISODE ON BLITZ. Moxxie and Millie did not need to be in this episode! All they needed to do is have blitz send them on a solo mission as a explanation for why they weren't there.

Anyway, overall this episode put a really bad taste in my mouth so now I want to watch m and m fall. Well I've been wanting to watch their relationship get worse because depth

I swear I'ma rewrite the episode that how much I hate it

[ennn]

Things I Liked About the Agatha All Along Finale - Initial Thoughts

Wooooo boy. Hey look I'm a bleeding heart shipper but I'm old and have been in enough fandoms. Let's process shall we?

Alice! Alice echo-ing what so many fans are saying about her lost potential. Rio actually being kind in reminding Alice her death did have purpose. "You're a protection witch, you protected someone."

The development of Billy's extremely complicated relationship with Agatha. Kid's not loyal to Agatha, he's understanding her, or starting to at least. He sees her being a relationship with Death and he's curious about the story there. He cares enough to connect the dots and see Agatha as a full person. And we see that developed as the finale goes.

"That's it? That's all the time that I get?" The show reminds us that death sometimes just happens – "Sometimes boys die" – I wonder if one of these writers is a Sandman fan because I immediately clocked a parallel to Death of the Endless taking a baby's life in her first comic appearance.

Death of the Endless is of course much kinder than Rio is with her (iconic) reply to that eternal question. "You lived what anyone gets... A lifetime."

That whole convo we got in the preview clip. And then them just sitting down and talking more? Albeit with layers of manipulation but y'know that's them.

Agatha telling Rio that she'll hand over Billy if Rio leaves her alone: essentially making Rio once again choose between her duty and her feelings towards Agatha. The deepest cut Agatha could make – which we see echoed with "If you do this I'll hate you forever." They know each other and the best ways to hurt each other.

I laughed waaaay too much at Agatha ragging on Jen's last vegetable name.

Jen's unbinding ritual was powerful and a fantastic moment for the character. She recognised and embraced her power. Agatha's mask slipping a little at the end as well. Amazing. Sasheer killed it.

The whole scene with Agatha working with Billy to bring Tommy back was beautiful and emotional and well put together and showed the side to Agatha that cements her as a great mentor (when she's not being the biggest murderous asshole).

Agatha using what she learnt from her Alice and Jen – and what Lilia told her – to hold her ground with Rio... okay it lasted like 10 seconds but it was a nice callback! Agatha's such a shameless survivor.

Incredible kissing. We knew Hahn and Plaza would deliver and they did. When it comes to kissing women, these two absolutely go for it.

Rio looking absolutely gutted with having to take Nicky away. Plaza really delivered with Rio's pain in these eps. Agatha calling her "my love", cursing and then begging.

Rio being soft about Nicky despite her job. Nicky willingly going with her with no fear, no hesitation – suggesting that they did bond somehow? Nicky knew she was a friendly face and trusted her. It was really a good death, all things considered. He wasn't sick, he wasn't in pain, he wasn't scared he simply fell asleep and just went.

Rio reminding Nicky to kiss his mom goodbye. She cares so much, as much as a personification of death can. It's funny how some people thought Rio was going to be this manipulative big bad but no, Agatha's the more toxic one in this relationship.

Okay like imagine Agatha finally dying and just straight up BOOKING it before Rio pops up. Rio hates ghosts. The number of times Agatha deliberately pissed her off this finale was amazing.

"I'm sure he'll forgive you for... whatever you did." Aw Billy is a good kid. Just like Nicky was. Agatha needs that reminder, that anchor to not be the Worst.

Chemistry aside, Agatha and Billy being mentor-pupil makes a ton of sense because these Maximoffs do the most fucked up shit (unintentionally) with their magic and Agatha's got the knowledge, charisma, cynicism, and the morals of a spinning compass to support him.

Alright when are they announcing the sequel / spin-off? I know there's a rumour of it happening. Rio's got 2 abominations and one endlessly aggravating ghost of an ex to deal with now.

[jxwl4k]

Photo Repair

Plot: YN tears a photo in anger. Bakugou repairs it, leading to making up.

It had been a rough day. Bakugou and YN stood across from each other, tension thick in the air. Their argument, which started small, had blown up bigger than either of them expected. YN, feeling frustrated and upset, grabbed a photo of the two of them—a happy memory—and tore it in half.

Bakugou’s eyes widened as he watched the photo fall to the floor in pieces. His jaw clenched, but he didn’t yell. He just stared at the torn pieces, his heart sinking. YN stormed out, feeling a mix of anger and regret, but at that moment, her emotions were too strong to turn back.

Hours passed, and the silence between them grew louder. YN sat on the couch, hugging her knees, replaying the fight in her head. She hadn’t meant to go that far, especially with the photo. It was a special moment, and tearing it felt like tearing a part of their bond.

Bakugou eventually walked into the room, quieter than usual. Without saying a word, he grabbed the pieces of the photo from the floor and sat at the table. YN watched as he pulled out some tape and began patiently fixing the picture. He wasn’t angry anymore, just focused, as if repairing the photo would repair what had happened between them.

His hands moved carefully, lining up the edges and smoothing out the tape. YN’s heart softened as she saw the gentle look in his eyes. She stood up and slowly walked over to him, guilt pressing down on her chest.

“Bakugou…” she started, her voice barely a whisper.

He looked up at her, pausing for a moment. “I’m not mad, you know,” he said quietly. “You didn’t have to rip it, though.”

“I know,” YN said, sitting beside him. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. “I get it. We both got worked up.”

There was a long pause, the kind that felt like everything was falling back into place. YN watched him finish taping the last piece of the photo, and her heart swelled at the sight of his quiet determination.

“You’re really fixing it,” YN said softly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Bakugou smirked, his usual confidence returning. “Well, someone has to fix it after you ruined it, right?”

YN laughed, a light sound that made Bakugou’s heart feel a little lighter. She leaned her head on his shoulder, and he didn’t pull away. Instead, he reached for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“We’ll be okay,” he muttered, still looking at the now-fixed photo. “We always are.”

“Yeah,” YN whispered, squeezing his hand back, “we will.”

[moosesarecute]

Missing mates

Rhys couldn’t breathe.

He felt completely lost in his world. Because he had lost his world.

Or, he hadn’t lost her completely, but at the moment he didn’t know when he would get his High Lady home and the wait felt like forever.

With Feyre in the Spring Court, Rhys could vomit at the thought, he didn’t feel like himself.

He couldn’t eat, he couldn’t sleep and he felt like he couldn’t breathe either.

To think that his mate was in a different court. To think that she didn’t think highly enough of herself to think that she was a part of their family. That she could sacrifice herself to go back to a place she withered away.

He almost cried at the thought alone. Ignoring the primal urge to go to the Spring Court and bring her home got harder for every minute that went by.

He stood in their shared room and watched the bed. How was he going to sleep in it without Feyre?

A careful knock on the door pulled him out of his spiraling thoughts.

Knock, break, knock knock, break, knock.

Not even his sister’s childish knocks could make him smile.

His sister.

Rhys rushed to the door and opened it.

“Is he awake?” He asked immediately.

“You actually think I would have left his side if he was awake?” You asked sounding annoyed.

The exhaustion was visible on your body. Both in your posture and the bags under your eyes.

“I’m sorry,” you continued. “I’m exhausted, I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Rhys opened the door wider and you walked in. He sat down on the bed and you sat in a chair.

“How are you holding up?” He asked you.

You couldn’t help but sigh as you leaned back into the chair. Your eyes were closed.

“I feel empty and lost,” you answered honestly. “The usual when the bond is quiet. You?”

“I’m okay,” Rhys lied. He didn’t want to put his emotions on you when you already looked so exhausted.

You opened your left eye and gave him a knowing look before you closed it again.

“I feel like I’m dying,” Rhys changed his answer and let out an exhausted laugh. “How do you do this? Azriel is on a mission like every other day.”

You sat up and opened both your eyes this time.

“You get used to it in a way. It gets less overwhelming after a few years.”

“Years!? I thought it only lasted a few weeks before it started to get less intense.” Rhys was actually shocked.

You smiled as you thought back at the first years being mated to Azriel. Even though it was overwhelming and sometimes also annoying, you loved to think back to the time when you two were clinging together at every time. At the time when being even a room away from each other made you feel like dying.

“It gets a little better after the Frenzy, but after that you have to build up endurance to be away from each other for longer periods without the instincts taking over. I don’t know how to explain it, it just works.” You were deep in your own thoughts as you spoke. Your eyes were focused on the wall behind Rhys.

“I still don’t understand how you didn’t grow crazy. You hate it when Azriel is protective.”

His words pulled you out of your thoughts.

“Firstly, I don’t mind Azriel being protective, but after accepting the mating bond it was way too much. Secondly, I wouldn’t call walking around and spraying my mate with a bottle of water ‘not going crazy’.”

It sprung upon him. He hadn’t smiled in over three days and suddenly he was laughing.

And with his laugh, you also started laughing.

It was hysterical. Tears ran from your eyes from laughing to much.

“I had forgotten about that,” Rhys said in between laughs. “You are crazy.”

When the laughter died down you both went back to your tired stares.

“Have you slept yet?”

The way you spoke made him understand that you already knew the answer.

His gaze turned to the bed he sat on and you spoke again before he could say anything.

“Sleepover in the living room?”

“We must have been under sixty the last time we did this just the two of us,” you said as you laid down. “Feels like forever ago.”

“Because it was.”

You laid in comfortable silence.

“Can I ask you something, little one?”

“Of course, Rhysie.”

You turned towards him. He drew a nervous breath.

“You spent fifty years apart and I can’t even do three days without absolutely losing it. What am I going to do?”

He felt like his life had stopped. That he couldn’t move on.

“Don’t be so harsh on yourself. Azriel and I had been mated for over 400 years when we ended up under the Mountain. You two have barely been mated for two weeks. You could still be ravishing each other in the Frenzy right now and no one would bat an eye. You’ll be just fine!”

He listened to the words you said, but he still couldn’t understand a way forward.

“But how do you to that? How do you live through this?”

It wasn’t like him to be this self conscious, but nothing in his mind felt right.

“You don’t live through it,” you started. He could see on your face that he had brought up uncomfortable memories. “You do what you need to do to survive it. Sometimes that might be to pretend you’re someone else and that there isn’t anyone to miss. Other times that means you’re struggling to get out of bed, even to go to the bathroom, because everything seems pointless without him. Sometimes you just have to cry and scream and other times you have to sit in the quiet.”

The more you spoke the more distant he could see you become. You were lost in your thoughts.

He carefully moved his hand and nudged yours carefully.

You looked towards him.

“The point is, you just have to do what gives you the courage to get to the next day. The rest of us will help you through it. And when all of this is over, you two are going to take at least a month to yourself. You have deserved it.”

He could do that. One day at the time. One day. And even though currently a day lasted longer than a month usually would, he could do it.

“Thank you.”

“Believe it or not, being mates for centuries have actually taught me something,” you said with a smug smile.

“Maybe I should start listening more to my little sister.”

You both turn to look at each other.

“Nah,” both of you said.

Rhysand was alone in the living room when he woke. The ache in his heart was a little smaller than the past days.

Seeing your mattress empty beside him gave him hope.

He got up and immediately made his way to his sister’s old bedroom. The room Azriel was currently healing in.

The door was open and as he peeked inside he saw what he needed to see.

Azriel sat up in bed with a cup of tea in his left hand, his right was occupied brushing through your hair.

“How long have you been awake?” Rhys asked his brother.

“A couple of hours,” he answered silently, not looking away from you. “She hasn’t slept much, has she?”

“I’d say about three hours the past three days,” Rhys answered. “It’s good to see you alive and awake.”

“You too,” Azriel answered.

Rhysand made his way back to his and Feyre’s room. Suddenly, life seemed easier. He felt hopeful for a good ending. And he was very much looking forwards to holding Feyre as she slept on his chest.

[oldsoul007]

taste

nicholas chavez x ex!reader

a/n: no disrespect to either of them or relationship all of this is just fiction!

Nicholas and y/n had a special connection when they dated. Their time together was filled with laughter, shared secrets, and memorable moments. However, as life moved on, they drifted apart, and Nicholas eventually found himself in a new relationship with a girl named Victoria.

Victoria is wonderful—kind, smart, and everything Nicholas could ask for in a girlfriend. Yet, despite his happiness with her, y/n is always in the back of his mind. He often finds himself reminiscing about the times he spent with y/n, the unique bond they shared, and the way she understood him like no one else.

Even though Nicholas tries to focus on his present with Victoria, there are moments when a song, a place, or a random memory brings y/n back to the forefront of his thoughts. He wonders how she's doing, if she thinks about him too, and whether their paths will cross again. This lingering presence of y/n in his mind makes him question if he ever truly moved on, or if a part of him will always belong to her.

Nicholas and Victoria were out for a casual stroll one Saturday afternoon when they unexpectedly ran into y/n. The encounter took Nicholas by surprise, and he felt his heart skip a beat. Y/n looked as beautiful and confident as ever, and seeing her brought a rush of memories flooding back.

"Hey, y/n. It's been a while. How have you been?" Nicholas asked, trying to keep his composure.

"I've been good. Just busy with work and everything. How about you?" Y/n replied with a warm smile.

"I've been alright. This is Victoria, by the way. Victoria, this is y/n," Nicholas introduced them, his voice slightly shaky.

"Nice to meet you, y/n!" Victoria said cheerfully.

"Nice to meet you too, Victoria. So, what have you been up to, Nicholas?" Y/n asked, her eyes lingering on him.

"Oh, you know, just the usual. Work's been keeping me busy. It's really good to see you, though," Nicholas responded, feeling a mix of emotions.

"Yeah, it's good to see you too. You look well," y/n said, her smile softening.

"Thanks. You too," Nicholas managed to say, his mind racing.

Victoria, sensing the tension, chimed in, "We should catch up sometime, all of us. It would be fun."

"Sure, that sounds nice," y/n agreed. "Well, I should get going. It was great running into you both."

"Yeah, take care, y/n," Nicholas said, watching her walk away.

As y/n disappeared into the crowd, Nicholas couldn't help but feel a pang of longing. He realized that his feelings for her were still very much alive, leaving him deep in thought about what to do next.

Victoria and Nicholas had been having a wonderful evening at home when the topic of y/n came up. It started innocently enough, with Nicholas mentioning their recent encounter.

"You know, it was really nice seeing y/n the other day," Nicholas said, trying to keep his tone casual.

Victoria's expression changed slightly. "Yeah, it was. But, Nicholas, I've noticed you talk about her a lot lately."

Nicholas looked puzzled. "What do you mean? She's just an old friend."

"Is she really just an old friend?" Victoria asked, her voice growing more tense. "Because it feels like there's more to it."

Nicholas sighed. "Victoria, you're overthinking this. Y/n and I have history, but that's all in the past. You're the one I'm with now."

Victoria shook her head. "I don't know, Nicholas. It just feels like there's something unresolved between you two. And it bothers me."

Nicholas's frustration began to show. "What do you want me to do, Victoria? I can't erase my past. Y/n is a part of it, but she doesn't have to be a threat to us."

"I just need to know that you're fully committed to us," Victoria said, her eyes pleading.

"I am committed to us," Nicholas said firmly. "But I can't change the fact that y/n was a big part of my life. You have to trust me."

Victoria looked away, tears welling up in her eyes. "It's hard to trust when I see how you look at her."

Nicholas softened, stepping closer to her. "Victoria, I love you. I'll do whatever it takes to make you feel secure. But you have to believe me when I say that y/n is just a friend now."

Victoria nodded slowly, wiping her tears. "Okay, Nicholas. I believe you. But let's not talk about y/n anymore. Let's focus on us."

"Agreed," Nicholas said, pulling her into a hug. "Let's focus on us."

As they held each other, Nicholas hoped that this would be the end of the tension between them. He knew he had to prove his commitment to Victoria and make sure she felt secure in their relationship.

Nicholas and Victoria were at the local bar when they unexpectedly bumped into y/n again. It was a moment of surprise for all three, but Victoria's reaction was different. As she watched Nicholas and y/n exchange warm smiles and familiar glances, something clicked in her mind. She realized that the connection between Nicholas and y/n was deeper than she had ever imagined. It was in that instant that Victoria understood the true nature of their bond, and a mix of emotions washed over her, leaving her both intrigued and contemplative about what this meant for their future.

Nicholas and Victoria were sitting in their living room when the tension that had been building up finally reached a boiling point. The topic of y/n had come up once again, and it was clear that Victoria was not happy about it.

"Nicholas, I can't believe you're still hung up on her," Victoria said, frustration evident in her voice. "Every time we run into y/n, you act like she's the only person in the room."

Nicholas sighed, rubbing his temples. "Victoria, it's not like that. Y/n and I have a history, yes, but it doesn't mean I'm still in love with her. We're just friends now."

"Friends? Really?" Victoria shot back. "Because it sure doesn't seem that way. You get this look in your eyes whenever she's around, like you're remembering something more than just a friendship."

"That's not fair," Nicholas replied, his voice rising. "I can't control how I feel. But I'm with you now, and that's what matters."

"But is it really?" Victoria asked, her eyes filling with tears. "Because it feels like I'm always competing with her ghost. I need to know that you're fully here with me, not just physically but emotionally too."

Nicholas took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. "Victoria, I care about you a lot. I don't want you to feel like you're second to anyone. I'm sorry if I've made you feel that way."

Victoria looked at him, her expression softening slightly. "I just need to know that I can trust you, Nicholas. That you're not going to run back to her the moment things get tough between us."

"I promise you, Victoria," Nicholas said, taking her hand. "I'm committed to us. I'll do whatever it takes to prove that to you."

As they sat there, holding each other's hands, they both realized that this was a turning point in their relationship. They had to work through these issues if they wanted to move forward together.

Nicholas had been feeling increasingly guilty about his relationship with Victoria. He knew deep down that he couldn't continue pretending everything was fine. One evening, he finally mustered the courage to talk to her.

"Victoria, we need to talk," Nicholas began, his voice heavy with emotion. "I can't keep doing this. It's not fair to you or to me. I still have feelings for y/n, and it's not right to lead you on."

Victoria looked at him, her eyes filled with a mix of hurt and understanding. "I knew this was coming, Nicholas. I just hoped things would change."

"I'm so sorry," Nicholas said, his heart breaking at the sight of her tears. "You deserve someone who can give you their whole heart, and I can't do that right now."

After the difficult conversation, Nicholas felt a weight lift off his shoulders, but he was also filled with a sense of loss. He decided to reach out to y/n, needing someone to talk to.

"Y/n, I ended things with Victoria," he confessed over the phone. "I couldn't keep pretending. But now, I feel so lost."

Y/n’s voice was gentle but firm. "Nicholas, I still love you, but we can't be together. Not right now. You need to figure things out for yourself first."

Nicholas sighed, feeling the sting of her words. "I understand, y/n. I just needed to hear your voice."

They both knew that this was a time for healing and self-discovery. Even though they couldn't be together, their connection remained a source of comfort and strength for Nicholas.

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 14

Summary: 

Eira Archeron was neither a Valkyrie, nor a Seer, nor the High Lady of the Night Court. She was, however, Azriel‘s mate with her own mysterious, untrained powers.

Also known as: Azriel tries to court his mate the human way.

Warnings: 

THIS IS THE LIGHTNING IN A BOTTLE SEQUEL! SO READ THAT FIRST IF YOU WANNA READ THIS ONE OTHERWISE THIS MAKES NO SENSE!

Elain Bashing, Low Self Esteem, I gave Kallias a random younger brother that is decisively not canon, Azriel has issues and a breakdown and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

(super pretty dividers by @tsunami-of-tears)

"We have an... unforeseen problem," Mor said as she burst into the dining room days later, coming too late for dinner, throwing a stack of letters on Rhys' place.

Azriel watched Rhys skim through them, a frown on his High Lord's face as he read through the documents, his eyes narrowing as he did. That, alone, had his irritation and tension rising.

Unforeseen was...not good. Unforeseen problems were almost never good. They were problems, and those didn't usually have nice or easy solutions.

Especially because Azriel didn't know about it

“Rhys?” Feyre asked carefully.

"Kalllias' younger brother Kleon is asking for Eira's hand in marriage," Rhys said drily.

Unforeseen problem indeed.

A wave of pure, unexpected and overpowering possessiveness suddenly washed over Azriel. The shadows around him darkened and writhed with the force of the reaction, and he had to forcibly suppress the noise that wanted to escape his throat as a growl.

It was...unexpected, uncontrollable. The possessive feeling coursed through him like wildfire.

His body ached with the need to get Eira, get her away. He...he wanted, needed, had to have...to keep her away from this...male. This male that wanted his mate.

His mate, his mind roared.

He could feel the shadows coiling around him, darker than usual in his anger and agitation.

Every instinct inside him was roaring, raging, the thought of Eira with that male...that male that wasn't him making him see red.

The very thought of that gods-damned Winter Court male taking his mate away from him …

"What?" Eira blurted out. "We talked about harps for 5 minutes!"

"Wow, that must have been a conversation," Cassian muttered under his breath.

Eira shot a glare at the winged male, but Cassian ignored it, too busy trying to suppress a smirk at the situation.

"Apparently a very engaging conversation,” Mor added, a faint smile on her lips.

"For Kleon, at least, apparently," Feyre added her tone just as drily as her friends had been.

“What does he even want?" Eira asked, her voice just as incredulous as he felt. "We spoke for moments. Minutes at most! And...and he wants to get married because of that?”

Azriel's heart jumped at the sound of the word married. Married. Married to someone that wasn't him.

Rhys sighed. "I am going to say something, you aren't going to like," he warned Eira quietly, waiting until she nodded. "There are multiple reasons. And Kleon was not the only male that was sniffing around you during that wedding. He was just the only one that dared to approach. 

One of the first reasons...it's political in nature. Even if you married Kleon and not a High Lord, that would still forge bonds between two courts."

"Political," she echoed faintly, and even from where he was, Azriel could see the way her eyes darkened faintly.

Of course, it would forge political bonds. One sister married into Day Court, two others into Night…why not the fourth into Winter? 

Eira’s jaw was clenched, her hands balling up into fists in her lap, and he could have sworn even the air around her was tense as if it was reacting to her emotions.

Azriel waited for lightning sparks to appear, but nothing did. 

"It's not the only reason," Rhys added quietly, and his voice was still as painfully neutral as before.

Eira shot him a look, eyes narrowing faintly.

"Secondly...It's breeding potential," Rhys said, grimacing at his own words. "You are one of only 3 cauldron-made females. You have untapped potential. A strong-magical mother nearly always results in a child with a strong magical potential."

Breeding potential.

The words echoed through Azriel's mind and his heart dropped like a stone to his stomach at that moment.

The very thought of Eira having....the very thought of any other male than him even touching her...

It made his heart seize, and his mind scream.

“The third reason..." Rhys continued, his voice still painfully neutral.

Azriel knew what the third reason was, he already knew what it was going to be, but he couldn't bring himself to breathe.

"It's because you're beautiful," Rhys said quietly, and the words came out...more bluntly than he'd probably meant to.

For a moment, Eira said nothing, her eyes dropping to her lap. Something like surprise, or disbelief, or something flashed through her eyes before the hint of a bitter, sarcastic smile appeared on her face.

"I'm average," she said quietly, and her voice was...bitter, slightly defiant.

They could give themselves the fault for that bundle of self-esteem issues. 

Mor snorted faintly. "Not for Kleon, clearly," she said, in a voice that was affectionate. "Apparently he spent 3 days waxing poetically about your virtues to both his brother, The High Lord, but also his sister-in-law, Viviane."

"Poetically" Eira echoed faintly, like she was having a hard time processing the words. "We spoke for minutes," she repeated, her voice incredulous, almost sounding like she was in shock.

"He has apparently been enamoured by you since the moment he saw you," Rhys said, and even with his neutral, level voice, it was impossible to miss the hint of amused disbelief. "He wrote 4 pages on your 'remarkable eyes' and 2 pages on your hair." He held up the pages filled with an elegant sprawling script. 

Eira seemed to be at a loss for words, her words choked in her throat and her eyes wide. The look on her was something between shock and disbelief.

Azriel was torn between wanting to laugh out loud and hissing at the very idea.

Rhys shrugged. "He's clearly very serious about you. He's offering not just an engagement but also a betrothal if you would prefer that before an engagement. It would be a very old-fashioned way to go about it, but also very respectful. You would have all the power to put an end to it if he does anything you don’t like.” 

Betrothal, engagement.

The very words made his heart jump into his throat and his shadows writhe in agitation.

He could sense Mor trying to look at him from the corner of her eye, but he couldn't bring himself to look back. He was too busy forcing the snarling, hissing thing down.

His mate.

The word echoed through his mind, louder and more powerful than before.

The very idea of that male wanting his mate, marrying his mate...

His heart was still lodged in his throat, pounding like a hammer against his ribcage with each beat as he struggled to keep his head clear and...and not just pick her up, throw her over his shoulder and then flee away with her.

But the mere idea of it made a small, bitter, almost twisted part of himself want to roar with the possessiveness that coursed through him.

It wanted to roar and scream in a possessive rage that this gods-damned Winter Court male couldn't have her. She was his. Eira was his mate.

It took every ounce of willpower and control he had to even keep his voice at least somewhat level as he said, "Are you... are you considering it?"

Eira's head snapped up as if she'd been struck, and she looked at him, her eyes locking with his.

There was a stunned look on her face. "I…" she stuttered, choking on the words. She hadn't been expecting the question.

“Kleon is a good male,” he forced out the words that tasted like ash on his tongue. “A courtier, not a warrior. He prefers music and poetry over weapons.” And wouldn’t that make him a perfect fit for Eira? For soft, sweet, gentle Eira who has cried inconsolably about the males she had killed? Who never wanted to be a weapon?

Eira's eyes were still on him, stunned, and he could sense the surprise and disbelief in her.

He could also sense the disbelief from the others, but his focus was completely on her.

What are you doing, Master? the shadows spat out. Did you hit your head?!

She has the right to choose. Even when it wasn’t him. Maybe especially if it wasn’t him.

If she would prefer a male that had taken one look at her and immediately realised the treasure that lay before him…and not a bumbling idiot like him who had spent years hurting her, carving out her heart with his own stupidity.

"Are you...?" Eira's voice was faint, almost stunned, and there was disbelief in her eyes and her tone at the thought of…his words. Her eyes were wide and bewildered as they looked at him. “Are you trying to talk me into marrying him?”

No.

His heart wrenched and his breath caught, and his mind was screaming at him for even for suggesting it.

But…but if she would be happier if she would have preferred someone different than him…he would have.

He should want her to be happy more than he wanted her, shouldn’t he?

“He’s a good male,” he repeated, his voice hoarse. “You should have a choice.”

“A choice between my mate and a man I had one conversation about?” Eira snapped. “What is wrong with you?!” She demanded. “You are courting me and you think I would entertain the attention of another man?!”

She was furious.

It was in the way her voice sounded, and how she looked at him, in the way her expression was almost spitting fire.

It took a moment for his mind to wrap around her words before they suddenly hit him in full force and he felt his heart jump in his chest.

“You...you’re choosing?” he said quietly, and for a moment his heart was lodged in his throat. “You're choosing me?”

“I chose you the moment I accepted your intent to court me,” Eira snapped. He had never seen her angry like that before. Seemingly seething. “You know how insulting it is that you think I would do that?”

The realization, mixed with the anger in her voice and the insult on her face...it made his breath catch and his heart jumps in his throat.

There was a painful hope in his heart, as the realization hit him.

She…she wanted him.

Even after all his bumbling stupidity and the years of making her cry...she wanted him.

“Yeah, it is,” Nesta snapped. “You pretty much just called my sister a loose woman with questionable morals!”

Azriel’s head snapped over to the oldest Archeron sister, but Nesta held his gaze for a moment before she looked at Eira with a fierce, fiercely protective look on her face.

“I am sorry. I didn’t mean it like that,” he choked out.

“No? Then how did you mean it?” Eira asked him, unwilling to back down. “You think I would choose a male I had one conversation with over my mate? Why?”

"You could have a male that took one look at you and immediately saw the treasure that you are. You could have a High Lord's only brother, who likes poetry and music and who has not bathed his hands in the blood of thousands," he continued weakly. "A male that..."

As the words came tumbling out he could feel the disbelief and fury on her. It was there in her voice when she cut him off with a loud, firm:

"I do not want him."

She took a deep breath, her hands balled into fists, her eyes stormy and glittering with the anger and hurt inside of her.

"I want you." He stared at her.  “Yes,” she said, her voice quiet now, but just as pained as her eyes. “I could have a male like that. And yet I choose you.”

He was silent, staring at her wordlessly; her words echoing through his mind, his heart hammering in his chest.

She wanted him.

She wanted him. Despite…despite all of his stupidities and all the hurt he’d caused her. Despite how...how badly he’d hurt her; how badly he knew he’d hurt her in the past. How many times he’d made her cry because of his stupidity…she stillwanted him.

He was staring at her, stunned into silence and unable to say anything, his emotions running wild in his mind and his heart.

There was a desperate, painful hope in his mind…but there was also an uncertain, hesitant, wary part of himself that couldn’t bring itself to believe it. That part of him that couldn’t believe that she would want him.

Eira’s eyes were still on his, wide and staring at him, and suddenly she looked...uncertain. Unsure.

A hint of doubt flashed across her face, and her voice...her voice was just as uncertain as her eyes when she spoke again.

“That’s…that’s still what you want, right?“

And the mere idea that she even needed to ask that had him snapping out of his stunned and speechless silence.

“Yes,” he said, and his own voice sounded strangled and ragged as he did. “Gods, yes.”

Yes, he...he wasn't even sure what he was doing as he slipped from his chair...as he ended on his knees in front of Eira...pressing his face into the soft pillow of her skirts, breathing in the scent of snowdrops and almonds and Eira...his mate.

His. His. His.

She wanted him. For some cauldron-forsaken reason, she was willing to give him another chance.

The scent of her...it filled his nose, the familiar, comforting scent of a crisp winter night, snowdrops and almonds, and he pressed his head against the soft skirt of her dress.

He was on his knees, burying his face against her, his hands grabbing at the fabric of her dress as if he didn’t want to let her go.

Eira gave a gasp of surprise at his suddenly dropping to his knees in front of her, a small, startled noise as the unexpected move had her jolting against the back of her chair. He couldn’t fight the desperate growl from his mouth.

Mate. Mine. My mate. My mate.

He…he didn’t deserve her. Didn’t deserve to have her in his life. Didn’t deserve to have her forgive him for the all ways he’d hurt her in the past.

He didn’t deserve her, he knew he didn’t.

He didn’t deserve her after what he had done; after everything he’d put her through by not realising...by his stupidity.

But gods, he wanted her. Wanted her more than he’d ever wanted anything else. Wanted her more than he’d ever wanted to breathe, or live.

He wanted her, every part of her. Every part of her body and mind and soul. He wanted every part of her in every way he could have her.

And she wanted him. She chose him.

Just like now her hand lifted and small fingers started running through his hair...as she touched him, with love and gentleness.

"What is the polite way to refuse?" Eira asked, her voice even. "I am not interested."

The sound of her voice, the feel of her fingers in his hair, her scent all around him…it all felt like a dream, like something that wasn’t real. Something he didn’t deserve.

He just…he just closed his eyes, letting the feel and sound of her envelope him, trying to commit it to memory.

"Well, we'll just tell him that," Mor said drily.

"Politely, of course," Feyre added.

Azriel could feel that the two females were looking at him, could feel the eyes of the others as well; as he knelt before Eira, his face pressed against her lap, his hand gripping her knee in a desperate, possessive grip.

The thought of someone else with her…with his mate...

His grip on her knee tightened, and his face stayed buried against her lap and her skirts, breathing in her scent, committing it to memory and letting her fingers run through his hair.

He felt her shift, and a moment later, her hand came to his face.

He didn’t move at her touch, keeping his face buried against her and refusing to come up, just breathing in her scent and letting her fingers stroke his face.

Her touches were so soft and gentle, that he could hardly believe it. After...after everything he’d done to her, all the ways he’d…he’d hurt her; he could hardly believe she was willing to touch him like this.

Eira’s fingers continued to stroke his face, tracing his cheekbone and his jaw and down to his neck, just…gently touching him and caressing him.

His heart clenched and his breath stuttered in his chest, his body going almost completely still as he just…he just let her touch him. Her touches left a trail of fire on his skin wherever her hands travelled, setting his entire nervous system ablaze and almost overwhelming him.

“Tell him I have a mate,” Eira said evenly, and he nearly shuddered at the claim in her voice.

Azriel had to fight the desperate, possessive sound that wanted to slip out of his mouth; the snarl of pure, desperate need, and pride, and desire at the claim.

His mate, she was his mate.

He still didn’t move, still didn’t look up, his face hidden against her skirts, but he was listening. Intently.

They were all silent for a moment, and he could practically hear the others look at each other.

Mor was the first to speak, and her voice was still amused, but with an undertone of something other.

“That…might not be enough,” she said, her voice quiet, cautious.

He could feel Eira’s eyes narrowing.

“And why not?” she snapped out, her voice a bit harsh. Her hand in his hair curled, and her fingers dug into his hair.

He didn’t even try to contain the quiet, strangled sound that tore itself from his mouth at the feel of the sudden grip on his hair and the possessive, almost territorial gesture.

“A male like Kleon might not see that as enough of a reason to back down,” Mor said carefully, and Azriel could practically hear her choosing her words.

He tensed instinctively, and the possessive grip his shadows had around his body suddenly grew tighter. "At least not until there is a ring on your finger."

There was a moment of stunned silence at Mor’s words, and Eira’s breath caught, and her hands stilled against his head.

“A…a ring…?” Her voice sounded dumbfounded and stunned.

Azriel did not like the quiet sound of Mor’s smirk as she said: “Traditionally, the sight of a ring on a woman’s finger is enough for even the most persistent suitor to accept her rejection.”

It took all his willpower and discipline for Azriel to not let the snarling sound that wanted to escape from his mouth.

He could feel the others’ eyes on Eira, all of them on her, and for a long moment he could hear nothing but her breath, harsh and uneven and fast, and his own.

Then he could hear her voice, quiet and rough and unsteady when she spoke.

“I…” He flinched at the sound of her swallowing. “I think Azriel and I need to have a talk."

He felt her push at his head, and he slowly relented, lifting his head away from her skirts.

He looked at her…and the sight of her wide, blue eyes staring back at him with such an open mixture of uncertainty, doubt, fear and hope made his heart clench.

"Let's go upstairs," she said softly.

Azriel was unable to say anything, he just nodded wordlessly and allowed her to push him back, silently taking her hand when she offered it and following her as she led him out of the dining room and up the staircase.

He hadn’t expected that, but then again he hadn’t exactly been in a place to expect anything in that moment, his mind too overwhelmed and terrified of screwing things up even more.

It was Eira who let go of his hand, crossing the room to perch on the edge of her bed, before she looked up at him silently, her hands clasped in her lap.

He didn’t move, feeling almost frozen in place as he saw her sitting there, perched on her bed and looking up at him with those wide, blue eyes.

His throat was dry and tight, and his heart was hammering in his chest, his mind racing through hundreds of possible things he could say and a thousand things he wanted to say.

So he did the only thing he could do...again.

He moved.

He crossed the room in quick, silent strides, closing the distance between them and kneeling before her.

***

Eira sucked in a sharp breath as Azriel knelt before her again, watching as a mix of emotions flickered over his face.

He had his eyes on her lap as she stared down at him, and the expression had her breath hitching, her heart clenching as he knelt before her.

His hands were clenched into fists on his thighs, his breathing ragged and laboured.

Before, he had buried his face into her lap. Without a word. Silent.

Now, he didn’t touch her, just...just knelt there, his body tense and muscles flexed to the point of shaking and his eyes trained on her lap.

His wings were tightly tucked into his back, not their usual relaxed posture,  but tucked in so tightly, like he expected her to hurt him.  

He was so tense, it looked almost painful. She could practically feel the anxiousness and the worry and all the things he was hiding rolling off him in waves.

She reached out before she could help herself, once again carding her finger through his hair, through the dark unruly waves.

The sound that left his mouth was somewhere between a sigh and a strangled whimper, and his body shuddered against her. His eyes fluttered, and he leaned almost unthinkingly into her touch.

Her mind was still a fucking mess, reeling. This wasn't exactly how she had ever expected to receive a proposal. Actually, it was the last way how she ever wanted it to happen.

She hadn’t even thought of it as a possibility. 

"Talk to me," she whispered quietly. "Azriel."

His breath shuddered as she said his name, and she heard the strangled noise it drew from his throat, his shoulders tensing and his head dropping further, his eyes hiding from her as he leaned his forehead against the side of her knee.

Just the sight of him now, the feel of his hair beneath her fingers and the feel of his body shaking against her...it made her want to pull him closer, wrap her entire body around his.

She still had her hands in his hair, stroking and petting his head, and she wasn’t sure if she was doing it more to soothe him, or more to soothe herself.

"I am sorry," she apologised quietly when it was clear that he wasn't going to say anything. "I only danced with him to be polite."

His entire body went rigid at that, and the noise he made was strangled and desperate, and his shoulders trembled, shaking with whatever he was holding back.

“Don’t…don’t apologise,” he forced out, his voice rough and ragged, and his throat so thick she could almost see his jaw clenching. “You…you don’t need to apologise for…for anything.”

Her hands in his hair stilled instinctively; her breath caught, and her own body went still and tense.

The words were a strangled confession and a tortured desperate plea, and it made her heart ache.

Her fingers started moving again, resuming the soothing, gentle motions of her movements, and she could feel the way her touch, the way her gentleness affected him as the tension in his body lessened and he almost leaned into her.

"You deserve better than me," Azriel whispered.

Her breath hitched, and her eyes stung, and a mix of pain and anger and guilt surged through her.

“Don’t say that,” It was a firm, almost choked-out response, her fingers clenching in his hair.

“Don’t…” Her voice caught, and her chest felt too tight. “Don’t you dare say that.”

"You…you deserve so much better," he said, and she could hear the strangled, pained tone in his voice. “Anyone is better than me, and you…you don’t…don’t deserve to be stuck with me, I…I don’t deserve to be near you, to call myself your mate, let alone anything else…”

Her throat felt too tight, and there was an aching, desperate pain in her chest at his words, her heart clenching as she heard the self-deprecation, the guilt, the hate in his voice when he spoke.

She couldn’t let him think that, couldn’t. The thought that he hated himself that much, that he thought so little of himself…it was unbearable.

"Listen to me," Eira said quietly. "I chose you. I will always choose you. You are my mate. From the very first moment, I saw you, when I was still human...I knew that I was yours."

His entire body shuddered at her words, shuddering so hard that she could feel it, could feel the way his body quaked against her. The sound he made was a strangled, guttural noise, and it was something between a strangled whimper and a choked-back sob.

She could practically feel his body aching, strained. He was holding himself so taut, so tense as if he was trying to hold himself back. Her hands in his hair didn’t stop, trying to soothe him, trying to coax him into relaxing, trying to get him to respond to her.

“You…you’re beautiful,” she whispered, and his chest heaved, a ragged, shaky breath tearing from his throat at her words. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen…and the kindest, strongest person I know. And yes, sometimes you are an idiot, but who isn’t? And I…” She took a deep breath, her fingers clenching in his hair. “I love you.”

He broke at that, his entire body trembling and shuddering as the first, strangled sob tore free from his throat, and it was a painful, broken, guttural sound that felt like it’d been torn from his very soul.

His entire body slumped against her, leaning his weight against her, as his shoulders shook and his hands twisted in her skirts.

Her heart ached at hearing his sob, and the sound of his pained tears filled her mind. Her hands in his hair clenched, her fingers still running through his hair as she felt him shudder and shake against her, his body trembling and his arms wrapping around her waist as he leaned his entire body against her.

It was instinct that had her wrapping her own arms around him, her one hand going to his back and pulling him against her as he fell apart.

"I love you," she breathed, as she pressed kiss after kiss against his hair. "I love you. And I want to marry you. I want to marry you. And I want these fat rosy-cheeked babies with you, that you promised me. That have my hair and your wings. I want you. I don't care that you think that you aren't good enough for me. I think you are enough. And that's all that matters."

His whole body shuddered at her words. He was still crying, still shaking, as he pressed his face against her, breathing in the scent of her.

“You…you want…you want that? With me?”

“Of course I do,” she breathed, as she kept stroking his hair, her hands never stopping their gentle, soothing stroking of his head. “You’re my mate, and I’m yours, and I love you…and I want everything with you; a family, and a home, and just you. Just you for the rest of our lives.”

“You…you want me?” His voice was ragged and raw, hoarse from his tears and the crying. “You…you don’t…don’t want someone…better?”

“No,” she said firmly, as she continued to stroke his hair. “You’re my mate. You’re the person I want, the one I choose. And there isn’t anyone better, because it’s you I’m in love with. And it’s only  you.”

Her words were met with a ragged, strangled-sounding noise from him, and she could feel the way his body shuddered again, his shoulders shaking as he trembled against her.

He didn’t speak again, and she heard him inhale, his arms holding her tighter against him; the low, ragged, deep breaths he was taking trying to calm himself, trying to gather himself.

"I love you," he whispered.

She felt her chest clench, her heart aching, with how raw and broken his voice sounded, and she could hear the anguish and the pain and the disbelief in it.

And her heart soared, as she heard the words she had spent years yearning after. 

“I love you,” she repeated, her voice just as ragged and raw as his. “I love you, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

His arms clenched around her, his head pressing against her stomach and his body shuddering against her yet again, and it sounded like he was struggling to breathe as he gasped in another deep, shaky breath.

“I…I love you,” he said, again, and his voice was shaky and broken again, like he couldn’t quite believe what she’d said. “And…and I don’t…don’t deserve you, and I…I want…want you to stay. I…I need you to stay.”

Her hands never stopped petting his hair, never stopped stroking and petting him comfortingly, as she heard the desperation and desperation and hope in his voice.

“I’m here,” she said softly, her words gentle and firm at the same time. “And I’m not going anywhere. I’m staying right here. I promise."

She wasn’t sure how long they sat there, like that, with him on the floor and leaning against her, her hands in his hair and his head against her stomach while his arms held onto her as if he was scared she’d try to leave.

But the sobs had stopped, and the tears had dried on his face, and his breathing had slowed to a much calmer but still ragged and unsteady pace, his body still trembling, but at least not shaking anymore.

He lifted his head from her lap and looked at her with wonder in his gaze. He reached out...hesitantly and she slipped her hand into his. "Marry me," he whispered.

This time it was her breath that hitched, a shuddering, shuddering sound, and her chest felt so tight it was hard to breathe.

It was an instinct to say yes, to respond instantly to his quiet, quiet words. But her mouth wouldn’t move, her brain not working enough to formulate a response.

She wasn’t sure if it was out of disbelief, or shock, or joy, but the words she couldn’t speak were obvious in her eyes as she stared into his.

He was staring at her, his eyes locked on hers, searching her face and her expression intently, as if he was expecting her to say something, or do something, his entire body taut and tense again as he watched her.

She couldn’t speak, and she couldn’t move except for the hand he held, the one that tightened around his, the one that held onto him tightly. As if to keep him there, to keep him from thinking she was going to reject him.

His entire body was trembling again, shaking in anticipation, in hope, in desperation and need, as he searched her.

All she wanted to do was to pull him closer to her, pull him into her.

“Yes,” she said firmly.

There was a strangled noise from him, as his expression broke, his eyes going soft and intense.

“Yes?” he breathed, and her chest ached at how hopeful, desperate, and broken he sounded. “You…you said yes?”

He was staring at her, his eyes wild with disbelief and hope and a desperate need that was almost like a physical ache that she could see.

“I said yes,” she repeated, her words as firm as they’d been the first time. “Yes. I’ll marry you.”

A shudder went through his body at her words, a strangled noise tearing from his throat, and he practically lunged towards her, his arms wrapping around her and hauling her against him.

It was desperate, almost desperate, the way his entire body clenched around hers. It wasn’t a hug, nor was it an embrace…it was a claim.

His arms were like bands of steel around her, holding her tight against him, his body pressing against hers so much she was practically on his lap, while one hand tangled in her hair and the other gripped her waist.

He was holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world, and she felt his breath shudder against her neck, felt the way his entire body trembled as he practically shook around her.

It was as if every part of him was trying to press himself against her; like he couldn’t bear even an inch of space between them.

His hands were clenched in her hair and on her waist, his head pressed against her throat, and she could practically feel his need to get closer, closer than physically possible.

She was practically sitting in his lap, pressed against him so hard that her body ached. The feeling of his body, of his hands on her, was almost overwhelming.

But it felt right, needed, like it was something they’d been missing before; an absence filled.

He hadn’t said a word, but she could practically hear him in her mind, the desperate, shattered words that echoed in her mind in a way it hadn’t done before.

Mine. He hadn’t said it, but it was so obvious in the desperate, possessive way he held her, in the way his hands clenched in her hair and on her body, and the way he’d practically crushed her against him. You’re mine.

“Yours,” she said softly, whispering the words against his skin. “I’m yours, always.”

"You deserved better," he whispered. "I was supposed to find you a ring...and a house."

She could feel the way he was clutching onto her, as if he couldn’t bear to let go, even now that he knew she wasn’t going to reject him.

“I don’t care,” she said firmly, as she clutched his shirt and held his face against her neck. “None of that matters. I just want you. It could have been a paper ring for all I care.”

He choked out a laugh, "You haven't even gotten that," he told her drily.

She smiled at his words, but her expression was still so soft.

“You’re all I’ve ever wanted,” she said simply, as she threaded her fingers through his hair; gently, soothingly, still stroking the dark strands. “Everything else is just…” she shook her head slightly. “Everything else can wait. All I want is you .”

He kissed her.

Her eyes fluttered shut instinctively as his lips found hers, and a shudder went through her at the feeling of his lips against hers.

She pushed her fingers tighter through his hair, the other clenching in his shirt as she kissed him back with a sort of desperation that mirrored his.

His lips moved against hers, the hand burying into her hair holding her in place. 

She gasped and that was all the invitation he needed as his tongue slipped into her mouth. 

She didn’t…she had no idea what…why…but she couldn’t think anyway. She could just cling to him tighter, heat pooling low in her belly. 

She felt like she was losing her mind, the feeling of him in her mouth, his tongue tangling with hers and mapping her mouth, made her feel like her entire world had slowed.

Her body ached against his, her hands clenching in his hair and his shirt. She hadn’t realized she’d been making a noise, a low, breathless sound at his relentless kisses.

He was practically cradling her against him, his arms wrapping around her body in a way that made her feel safe against him. She didn’t feel like she had the control over herself to even move, as if her body was his for the taking.

She’d honestly never felt more safe, more wanted, than she did right then.

His mouth was insistent against hers, insistent and demanding, and the way he was holding her made her feel as if he was trying to consume her. It made it hard to breathe, the way he was kissing her…like it wasn’t a want, but a need, and she was the only thing that could satisfy it.

And then he pulled back, a kiss pressed against her lips once again. "You need a ring," he whispered against her skin.

She was still trembling slightly, her eyes fluttering open and her breath coming out as a shuddering sort of gasp. Her head was still spinning, the after-effects of his kiss still making it hard to breathe.

Her eyes were still hazy, and her mind still struggling to process what he’d said. “…a ring…?” she repeated, and her voice was soft and breathless…and her words sounded almost dreamy.

A Ring, the shadows whispered. After Master already ruined our plans...

She had to bite her lip, a soft laugh bubbling to her mouth at the sound of the shadows’ voices, the sound almost giddy at the prospect of an impending ring.

“You mean...” she said slowly, her voice still slightly breathless and a smile on her face. “You were planning on getting me a ring…?

"And a house. I was supposed to show you that I could provide for you and our future children," Azriel said softly, cupping her cheek. "That's how humans do it, is it not?"

She shook her head, a tender smile on her lips, as she stared up at him. “You don’t need to give me anything, Azriel. I just need you. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”

[fairytalelover33]

One thing that will never cease to amaze me is how OVERLOOKED VI’S TRAUMA IS IN ARCANE.

Maybe it’s just the oldest daughter in me talking; But the trend I most often see in Arcane posts, rants and such, is a back and forth over Caitlin and Jinx. Who’s in the right between the two, who’s justified, who has more of a reason to grieve over their dead parent.

Vi is almost NEVER talked about when it comes to who has the right. And that is SO oldest sister of her.

She was the one old enough to properly understand what happened when their parents got killed.

She was the token older sister, always prepared to defend and take the fall for her younger siblings, hell, she was even prepared to get arrested or God knows what to protect Powder, Milo and Claggor at the age of what, 14-16?

She DID get arrested, and she was in there for about 7 years, in the darkest, dampest place she could possibly be, without sunlight, or fresh air, or ANY idea on if she would ever get out, her only hope and reason for pushing on STILL being her younger sister who also accidentally killed their entire family. WHO VI STILL LOVES AND WANTS TO PROTECT DESPITE THE FACT. And we also learn that Vi was definitely physically abused while she was stuck in that cell, (the look on her face when she hears that clunking coming down the hall proves it wasn’t an every once in a while thing.) She was literally forced to grieve alone, in the worst place imaginable, with no one to help her.

She is consistently shown blaming herself for the decisions of other people, because the over-pressured sister and daughter in her will definitely never fully grasp the fact that ITS NOT HER FAULT.

She had to come to terms with the fact that her little sister had chosen to work for and bond with the man that was responsible for the death of their father figure, and even then, after hearing the things Jinx had done, the ways she’d changed, Vi STILL tried to love her, to save her.

She was faced with a choice between her sister, and her (basically) girlfriend, and no matter how much you defend Jinx, or how much trauma she went through, or her lack of emotional maturity, none of that takes away from the pure terror of watching your sister point a gun in the face of someone you love, trying to make you ‘choose’. And then in the same moment, watching your girlfriend point a gun at your sister? Constantly being stuck in the middle of everyone you love?

Almost everyone she has ever loved either died, or completely turned on her, becoming a different person, or just straight up abandoning her.

The difference between her and the other trauma filled children of this series is that she’s not easy to pity like everyone else. She’s actually strong, and hasn’t completely lost her morals or snapped, even after everything she’s been through, so people don’t sympathize with her. She’s the token older sister, overlooked, over relied on, and villainized when she shows any sliver of fragile humanity.

(SORRY FOR MY VI RANT I JUST NEEDED TO GET THAT OUT 😔✊)

[hotshotsxyz]

this method acting (might pay our bills)

(1.1k) (gen) 8x02 coda with spoilers from the 8x03 teaser. it's still thursday on the west coast, so i'm counting this as a same day coda. anyway brad torrence is a menace and i'm setting up camp in his brain

Let it be known to all, Brad Torrence takes his craft very seriously. So seriously, in fact, that when he’s called to a real emergency, he answers that call without hesitation. After all, what better to inform his performance than real experience? Tonight, Brad is a firefighter; he doesn’t just play one on TV.

His fellow firefighter, Buck, doesn’t seem terribly enthused about his presence. He generally seems to have a worried air about him, though, so maybe it doesn’t have anything to do with him at all. There’s a certain degree of vanity required in his profession, but he isn’t entirely self-centered. Honestly, he’s just glad that Buck doesn’t seem to be starstruck. That would make this entire situation far more difficult.

“Try Athena,” Bobby commands, but before Brad can ask for her number, Buck’s already dialing. That’s fine, he supposes. There’s no time to waste.

Brad’s not actually completely sure who Athena is. Someone important, obviously, perhaps his lieutenant? His character on Hotshots is a bit of a lone wolf, but maybe there’s something else there to explore. He makes a mental note to ask the writers room about adding a new character in the back half of the season, a lieutenant for him to butt heads and then bond with. They could even make it a bit of a will-they-won’t-they. He’s sure they won’t mind a few rewrites.

The phone rings twice, then, to Brad’s surprise, the call connects.

“Buck? Where’s—”

“I’m right here, Athena,” Bobby interrupts. His tone is magnificent. Calm but firm, no doubt inspiring nothing but faith in the woman on the other end of the line, whoever she is to him.

“Oh, thank god, Bobby,” Athena says.

Her voice is a bit garbled. It wouldn’t make for good television, but some concessions must be made for reality, Brad supposes.

“I’m on a plane,” Athena continues. “It’s—it’s not looking great.”

“Athena, if there’s anyone who can land a plane it’s you,” Bobby says. There isn’t a modicum of doubt in his voice.

“If there’s anyone who can land a plane, it’s a pilot!” Athena protests. Brad wishes he brought a pen and paper. Her comedic timing is excellent.

“She’s got you there,” Brad says, leaning forward until his head is between Bobby and Buck.

The look Buck shoots him is just shy of murderous. He’d be a terrible actor, Brad thinks. It’s all about focus and purposeful expression, neither of which seem to be at the top of Buck’s priority list.

“Who the hell was that?” Athena asks.

“Brad Torrence,” he says smoothly, “but you can call me Brad.”

Buck’s expression shifts from murderous to incredulous. Again, terrible actor.

“Don’t worry about him,” Bobby says.

He inflects his words with the tiniest hint of irritation. It’s brilliant – how better to redirect the anxiety Athena must be feeling into something more manageable. Brad only hopes he’ll be able to meet her in person once this nasty business is over.

“I’ve got plenty to worry about. He doesn’t even make the top ten.”

Buck snorts. Rude.

“Tell me what’s going on,” Bobby says.

“Air traffic control is directing us to LAX, but—Bobby, I’m not sure we can make it that far. The hole in the fuselage is getting bigger and our airspeed is dropping fast.” Athena sounds scared, desperate. Caroline could learn a thing or two from her about emotional resonance.

“Did—did you say there’s a hole in the plane?” Buck asks. His voice has a certain gravely, intense timber that Brad supposes would do well in some genres. Action movies, maybe, but not the high budget kind.

“What do you need from me?” Bobby asks before she can answer the question.

“Do you got a runway in your back pocket?” Again, brilliant comedic timing. She has that perfectly acerbic wit that any good heroine needs to have.

Bobby thinks for a moment. “Can you make it to the 110?” he asks finally.

“That, I think I can do,” Athena replies.

“Buck,” Bobby says, only it sounds less like his name and more like a command.

“On it,” Buck says. He twists around in his seat and looks at Brad. “Give me your phone.”

“My—why do you need my phone?” Brad asks. “You’ve got one right there.”

“Come on, man, now,” Buck says, all bite with no room for argument.

“Fine, fine,” Brad says. He slides his phone from the pocket of his turnout pants and hands it to Buck, who doesn’t even thank him for it.

Instead, he turns back to the front and types out a quick text before dialing a number. The call connects almost instantly.

“Maddie,” he says, “I don’t have time to explain. I need you to shut down the 110, get as much traffic off it as possible. We need it completely clear from Sepulveda to Torrance.”

The woman on the other end of the line doesn’t reply directly. “All available units, we’re shutting down the 110. Create roadblocks south of Sepulveda and north of Torrance. All traffic must be cleared between those exits.”

“Thank you, Maddie, you’re the best,” Buck says when she’s done. So, some people do, in fact, get thanked when they do something helpful. It’s fine.

“Is it Athena?” Maddie asks.

“Yeah,” Buck says. “They can’t stay in the air much longer.”

“Alright,” Maddie says. “I’ll coordinate with the IC over there, get triage moved as fast as possible.”

“I’ll keep you in the loop,” Buck says.

The line goes dead, and Brad’s expecting to get his phone back, but Buck sends another text and dials another number. This time, it rings thrice before the call is answered.

“Buck,” a man says on the other end of the line. His voice is warm and honey smooth. Brad should ask his dialect coach about that.

“They’re not—Eddie, they’re not making it to LAX,” Buck says, rushed and a little less polished than he was for Maddie.

There’s a short pause, then the quality of the sound changes. “Where?” the man—Eddie—asks.

“The 110,” Buck says. “South of Torrance. We need you over here, fast as possible.”

It’s odd, hearing his name this many times when he’s not the subject of the conversation. If this was meant to be a TV scene, it’d be far too repetitive.  

“Pack it up, let’s go!” another voice calls. She must be a captain, if the authority she speaks with is anything to go off.

“We’re coming,” Eddie says.

Some of the tension in Buck’s shoulders seems to bleed away. Interesting. “See you soon,” he says.

He ends the call, and Brad turns his attention back to Bobby. After listening for a moment, he realizes that they’re now on a conference call, and Athena is speaking to someone who knows a great deal more about planes than he does.

Brad closes his eyes and leans back. They’ll be at the scene soon. It’s time to visualize. As long as he stays in character, nothing can go wrong.

[atrwriting]

future problems (pt. 2) -- coriolanus snow x fem!wife!reader

me, after posting a one-shot: “ok i won't do a part two”

me, a few days later: *posts a part two*

howdy y'all ;) back with everyone's favorite toxic white man of the month

this part is based on this anonymous request -- love you anon :) xox

find part one here

summary: reader finds out she's pregnant and has to tell the scariest man in panem -- her husband, president snow

as always, warnings: smut!, pregnancy sex, coriolanus snow is a fucking warning in himself, he’s a dick here, fem!reader, p in v sex, mommy and daddy kink just trust me ok)

barely edited we die like men

anyways... here is future problems (pt. 2):

......

he was told by a servant a month before you told him.

he couldn't believe it.

you had not bled last month.

it's not that he was mad... but he wanted to be told by you. he wanted you to be the first one to tell him. it was important to him — trust and loyalty, especially from you. he had allowed you to get close to him, physically and emotionally, and he deserved that same respect.

he couldn't believe you had kept it from him.

you. of all people. you.

how fucking could you?

it had been a total of six weeks since he had been told by the servant.

it wracked his brain like it was the fever that debilitated him for weeks. it gnawed at him, it scratched at him, and it fucking demanded every ounce of energy from him that he possessed. that sort of pain, betrayal — it insisted on being felt and dealt with immediately, no matter what needed to be taken care of first. corio coriolanus couldn't believe he had honestly trusted you, or even thought you were worthy of some amount of trust... and he couldn't believe he, for even a second, allowed either of you to live in that facade.

never again, he reasoned. never again.

on the day after the six week marker, there was a knock on his office door.

his lips fell into a grimace before he forced it to remain even — calm. no emotion shown. not anymore.

“come in,” he spoke.

his eyes fell to the papers on his desk, where he continued to write and edit his memorandum. his eyes traced the words he wrote, but he was barely focused on what he was writing. the only thing he could hear was the sound of your footsteps entering his office.

“corio?” you asked quietly, smiling, as you stepped through his door.

inside, he flinched at his nickname. coriolanus, he wanted to correct.

he did not raise his head. “…yes?”

he could not see you — but he knew that you noticed his flat demeanor.

it affected your own.

he couldn’t see that — but he knew. he fucking knew.

it wasn’t the first time he had been cold to you, but enough time had past where he reasoned that this would be the solidifying moment of your opinion of him. he knew that you knew he was upset about something. what else could have changed his demeanor?

“i-i wanted to… tell you something,” you replied, voice wavering.

he could tell you were working hard to ignore the obvious signs that something had shifted between the two of you. he knew, he knew, and he knew — but he didn’t care. he couldn’t care. why should he, when you didn’t?

“yes..?” he replied once more, this time sighing.

his eyes met yours.

your resolve immediately fell. though slight, he could see that whatever confidence you had possessed had faded from your face. it was gone… and coriolanus didn’t have the resolve to replenish it. neither did you have the strength to fake it.

he saw you begin to pick at your fingernails — another nervous habit of yours he had noticed.

however, this was a new one. once the pair of you shared a kiss — you were rarely seen pulling at the skin of your lips and your usage of lip moisturizer had increased. he appreciated it, at the time — but now? now it was a reminder of what once was. with new bad habits came the alert of the passage of time — and the alert of bonds breaking.

he couldn’t deal. he just couldn’t.

“what is it?” coriolanus demanded, eyes blinking.

your lips parted in confusion, and your brows scrunched right with them. there was hurt in your eyes, and splattered across your cheeks in a pink hue. your cheeks were usually flushed with graciousness or from alcohol — but this was embarrassment. hurt. rejection.

he didn’t care anymore, especially not when he admitted to himself that a part of him loved seeing your face and confidence fall. if he was going to fall, you were going straight down with him.

down, down, down.

“i’m with child,” you responded, appearing to struggle to catch your breath.

there it was. the admission.

he clenched his jaw. his eyes focused on your face — and how the tears began to collect in your eyes. the rejection he was sending towards you was even being felt by him — and he almost felt bad. to see a woman he so blindly trusted, who thought she could outsmart him — play the part of a hurt and broken hearted woman so well.

he did not smile. he did not laugh. he did not even get up. he simply stared at her — silently.

“i take it you are not happy at this announcement,” she responded, voice barely wavering. “i-i would’ve thought…”

coriolanus watched as you placed a gentle hand over your stomach — almost in a protective manner.

“how long have you known?” he asked.

“i took the pregnancy test today,” you responded.

coriolanus’ jaw tightened. he was not expecting that, especially not after the news he was given. “…but you’ve known for some time. you must have — given how you chose today to take the test, and don’t seem as surprised as you thought i would be.”

you narrowed your eyes at him. “…no, coriolanus. i didn’t. i had hopes, yes, but… i took the test as soon as i thought reasonable. you’re the first person i’ve told.”

confusion and hurt. that was all you felt. it encased your body like it was trying its best to cast you from the room — placing a heavy boundary between you and your husband. husband… if you could even call him that. your lips began to twist in a grimace as emotions began to well up inside you.

“tell me why i have displeased you,” you spoke, voice threatening to break. you took a step towards his desk and kept one hand firmly on your belly. your eyes, red and wet, bore into his and refused to leave him. “i thought you would be overjoyed. i-i thought…”

“you claim i was the first person you told,” he spat, holding your glare. “but i was not the first person to assume.”

you scrunched your eyebrows at him… but then you realized. it hit you like a ton of bricks. you bit the inside of your cheek, drawing blood, before stating, “your spies.”

coriolanus narrowed his eyes. it was not an issue that she knew… but he didn’t understand how she could know, nor for how long. spies were useful when their identity and presence was not apparent, and therefore he considered his current spies failures — to be dealt with later. at the moment… he had other matters.

“you might want to elaborate on that statement if you’re going to act like it’s something profound,” he spat, standing and snapping his journal closed.

coriolanus stood behind his desk and pushed in his chair. you watched him as he struggled to keep everything together, neat and tidy.

your face was red and hot, and you weren’t sure if it was due to the pregnancy or the betrayal. how could he? how could he?! there you stood, trying to remain collected — but it proved useless. through your tears, you spat, “a woman is supposed to wait before telling everyone she’s pregnant — god forbid she loses the baby before it’s viable. i waited the standard amount of time most women are practically born knowing to wait. if your spy is going to make my cycle their business, they should at least understand basic fucking female biology, coriolanus, or your spies and their intel are fucking useless!”

you didn’t wait to hear his response. you left the room.

he stared at the oak door out of entitlement — it should open once more, and reveal his wife.

the mother of his child…

he had never considered… things of that nature. tests. waiting periods. hormones.

incompetence. that of his spies — nor his own.

he didn’t understand any of it.

however, he did understand one thing…

he had to deal with the useless spy.

…and that would happen before he approached you.

that approach occurred approximately an hour and a half later. he would have found you sooner, but the spy had… taken more time than anticipated. afterwards — there he stood, at your door, with a tray of food in his hands for the both of you.

his knuckles wrapped on the door.

there were no footsteps.

they wrapped again.

still, no footsteps.

once more.

…and, still, nothing.

he couldn’t believe this.

he went to knock a fourth time, but before he could — the door swung open.

to reveal you in the doorway.

your eyes were blown wide with anger, but the rest of your face did not show emotion. you glared at the man before you, which unsettled your husband,

he picked you because you were unproblematic — but had gotten lucky with the fact that your company was so pleasant. you were not loud, annoying, mean, bold, disrespectful, disobedient, or anything of the sort — but he did not expect this.

he did not expect you… to hold a grudge against him, much less stand up for yourself.

he stood there silently — dumbstruck.

“i would slam this door in your face if you weren’t the president,” you spat lowly. “please do not make me forget formalities.”

“i brought you dinner,” he spoke, ignoring you. “please… join me.”

you raised an eyebrow, scoffing. “you’ve been ignoring me for weeks, when i tried to convince myself you were just busy. you can handle another night of dining alone.”

you went to shut the door, but he stopped it with his foot. your eyes lowered to where his toe was in the doorway, and traveled up to where his eyes were. as per usual, his facial expressions were flat, save for determined. he always had a goal in mind… and refused to change it until he succeeded.

you sighed. you had had enough.

“i’m not doing this tonight,” you bit. “i show you every ounce of respect that i know you expect of me. i have been patient, kind, gentle — but i can’t meet you halfway right now. not after that. leave. please.”

there coriolanus went. searching your eyes once more, like he had done long ago. his jaw clenched once, twice, three times before it finally settled. he did not remove his foot before he spoke once more.

“why didn’t you tell me immediately?” he imposed.

there was a hint of pleading in his voice. your breath began to quicken with anxiety. out of exhaustion and frustration, completely forgetting your station, you rolled your eyes at your husband before responding.

“what if i was wrong, coriolanus?” you spat, your eyes were narrowed. “why would i tell the most powerful and scary man that runs panem — that i am pregnant with his child, if i am not one hundred percent sure? to get your hopes up for nothing, if, god forbid, i lose it?”

he didn’t respond.

you threw your hands up in exasperation. a silent cry left your lips in the form of a broken inhale. your hormones were running rabid — coursing through your veins and filling you with frustration.

you locked your teary eyes with him once more. trying to keep your voice quiet, you hissed, “your spies aren’t exactly discreet. i’ve known about them since my first day here. your spies — they’ve never reported i’ve done anything wrong because i have never done anything wrong. it’s not like i can hide anything here, either — they’re everywhere. nothing is a secret — even a private moment between husband and wife, like a wife finally being able to tell her husband that she’s sure she’s pregnant with his child. i have given you everything you’ve ever requested of a wife, yet there you sat — throwing silent insults in my face.”

there went the boundary.

up and sturdy.

layer after layer of brick and cement. your trust and love for him crumbled with each new layer, until you couldn’t see the man you once adore beyond the wall. the man before you frustrated you so much that you forgot what it was like to look upon his face and feel nervous excitement at the prospect of seeing him smile. you wanted to slam the door in his face, placing two boundaries up — a real one, and an emotional one.

one that would prevent you from ever being so stupid again — from ever letting him close to you, for ever thinking this could work.

stupid, you thought. stupid, stupid, stupid.

but coriolanus corio would have none of that.

he was a man of formalities and manners, but your husband actually pushed his way through.

you stumbled backwards in surprise. your husband had guards for doing his dirty work — not the shoulder of his new and crisp suit.

he shoved the tray of food on a nearby table, ratting the walls and the contents on each surface. you placed a protective hand over your stomach and watched him — waiting for his next move.

“i said get out, coriolanus!” you spat. your gaze was fiery red, and now there were angry tears in your eyes. corio could see the hormones flowing from every opening in your skin they could find — even smell them. “i refuse to speak to you!”

“the father of your child?” he spoke evenly, walking towards you. “your husband?”

you took a step back for every step he took forward. “you were more concerned with the secret kept than the actual chance of life!”

“i thought you were keeping the chance of being happy about a child from me,” he spoke, bitterness instinctually falling from his perfect lips. “you can’t forget — we barely know each other —“

“and who’s fault is that?!”

he stopped. his jaw tightened. he stared down at you and wondered where all of this fury had come from.

him. it came from him. the realization struck him similar to how other pieces of information had been striking him later. in the chest or face, whichever hurt more — and forcing his breath to catch in his lungs. never to reach his throat, let alone his lips.

he couldn’t keep going on like this — watching and waiting. watching others for their mistakes, and waiting for the correct moment to… correct them. at the very least… he couldn’t with you — not with you.

“i committed a wrong against you,” he spat before he could think about it.

you scrunched your eyebrows in disbelief. apologies were rare in the capital, and admissions of guilt were almost as scarce. you stared at him, still consumed with rage — but now confusion began to creep upon you. and where there is confusion… there is always curiosity.

you didn’t respond. you clenched your jaw at his words, but that was the only response he received.

“i did,” he reaffirmed, stepping closer to you. you drew back a step — not far, but still a step. he continued, “when i had heard what my spy had relayed to me — i should have asked you.”

you had three options. ignore him, yell at him, or hear him out. did he deserve the first two? yes. did you have every right to do either of the two, or both? yes, of course. however… were they worth it in the long run?

that was the question that now ate at you.

you had every right to put up the same emotional barrier you had worked so hard to tear down with coriolanus. his? who knows why he insisted on making his hurt everyone else’s problem. yours? he was an elite asshole, but… you were married to him. he was the president of panem. he was the most ruthless man in all of panem.

and you loved him.

you really, really did.

that was why his distrust for you hurt so bad.

it wasn’t about seeking approval anymore — because you thought you had it, or at least had come to close to it. once given that, you felt safe enough, well… to feel safe. to feel safety, trust, respect, reliability… and love. love.

the fucking bastard made you love him.

with reluctance, you took a step forward. “you should have, coriolanus.”

his jaw tightened as he also took a step forward. “corio — please, my love.”

you scoffed out of reflex and threw your stare to the side. you began to rub at your stomach, hoping to quell your own anxiety. there were a million insults waiting to leap from your tongue and latch onto his face, chest, throat — anything to hurt him or get him to fuck off. however, you swallowed them.

“i would do anything for you,” you stammered, trying to keep emotion out of your voice. “i have proved that time and time again.”

he took a step closer. “i know.”

“i know better than to keep something substantial from you,” you replied. “god forbid it was a fluke…”

another step closer. “i know.”

“i have done everything i can to prove that i am loyal to you, and only you,” you spoke, your voice wavering. “in the future, i ask that you approach me first — yell at me, fuck, i couldn’t care less — just as long as you don’t ignore me. anything, corio — just don’t push me away.

he laughed then, only a foot away from you now. the tears in your eyelids hadn’t hit your cheeks yet, but they threatened to. he reached forward and cupped your face in both of his hands. he leaned down due to your height difference and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“i know,” he repeated. “and i promise — i will try my best to not push you away.”

“okay,” you nodded, sniffling.

“never heard such coarse words from my perfect wife,” corio attempted to break the tension.

you chuckled then, wiping away any moisture from your eyes. “there were more — trust me.”

“i would have deserved them.”

your eyes flickered up to his them, searching his irises for answers like he did to you. you weren’t sure how he did it — but he could find every lie or fact inside someone’s eyes. that trait had not found its way to you.

but maybe it would to your child.

“i want to hear you say it again,” you whispered, now meeting his eyes. “i want to hear you say that you promise you will try your best to never push me away again.”

“i promise,” he spoke, nodding.

you refused to stare into his eyes at his admission. if he wasn’t a good liar, you didn’t want to know — not in that moment.

"am i allowed to kiss the mother of my child now?" he asked with a smirk.

you glared at him. "you would've —"

"shhh," he cooed, before leaning down and pressing his lips to yours.

one of his hands slid to the back of your head and cradled the bottom of your skull. he wrapped his free arm around your back, pulling you into him. the kiss, you couldn't explain it — it — it...

it was like he swallowed you.

there was no place for you to move, but then again — why would you want to? you body was perfectly molded to fit his, in every way he wanted you to bend to him. his warmth, his scent, his taste — it all coaxed your senses into such a feeling of satisfaction that you weren't sure where it started or ended. it held your consciousness in warmth and safety — something rare in the capital. the only thing that mattered to you was that you were in your husband's arms and the kiss did not stop.

"so pleased with you," he mumbled against your mouth. "a child..."

warmth bubbled within the lower half of your body. praise, from a man like corio... any woman's weakness.

you hummed into the kiss, rubbing your hands up and down his chest. "going to be so proud of their father, the president."

the groan that emitted from his chest was deep and guttural — so masculine. it made every hair on the back of your neck stand at attention, waiting for a direction from the man before you. you began to finger his top button, hoping... hinting...

"sweetheart," he spoke, pulling away. "as much as i want to, i am not sure whether —"

"i think i'm fine," you gushed, only realizing after how desperate you might have sounded. "we might as well — especially before i become too big to breathe."

he stiffened as he held you. you immediately grew worried.

"what's wrong?" you softly asked, rubbing his chest.

he shook his head. "nothing —" he stopped for a moment, appearing to contemplate something. "it's just — i was imagining —"

you looked up at him curiously, hoping he would elaborate. his eyes immediately flew to your lips — perfect and plump, a match for his. you smirked.

you had him. “what were you imagining, husband?”

his jaw clenched again as his eyes widened. “my pretty wife has become so much more bold since i met her.”

you smiled up at him, hoping that he found it amusing more than disreepctful. one of his hands found your cheek as his thumb caressed the skin. your eyes were big as they gazed up at your husband, keening into his silent praise.

“i disagree with you, wife,” he spoke. “too big to bed —“ he scoffed before leaning down to your ear, your words rolling with disgust off his tongue. his lips brushed against the skin of your lobe before he spoke, “i’ll have a hard time keeping my hands to myself when the mother of my children will swell with me inside of her.”

your eyes, still wide, were frozen on corio’s. mischief danced in his irises, like a snake coiling around its prey. air left his nostrils in a small, sudden gush — amusement. the look that played on his face depicted the power imbalance — but, then again, how stupid could you be to ever think you would have control over your husband for a substantial amount of time?

he grasped your chin in his fingers before your lips parted. you were at his mercy — to be bent to his will. his head bent towards you before he spoke.

“you think you’ll repulse me — when my seed takes inside you, and it shows?” he asked. his eyes searched yours — but what yours reveal that he didn’t already know? he had you. he had you, and there was nothing you could do about it. “my naive, little wife… i don’t expect i’ll allow you to leave the bedroom much when that time comes.”

christ, you thought. your breath began to quicken as his words settled upon you. in a soft voice, you replied, “you leave me speechless, husband.”

he wickedly smiled then. “get on the bed, sweetheart. making up for lost time is in order, wouldn’t you agree?”

you couldn’t help yourself. you should’ve listened to him — but how could you, when he smelled so good, spoke so nicely, and was so close? you rolled onto your toes just enough to be able to press a kiss to your husband’s lips, and wrap your arms around his neck.

the angle was annoying for corio, who thought pulling you into his arms would be better use of his strength — especially if you weren’t going to listen. his large hands held your ass, supporting your weight as you leaned into his touch. your breasts, arched into his chest, were the only barrier that kept you two apart. there was nothing like a kiss from corio — heat, lips, teeth, spit. all of it melted into one.

“you missed me… didn’t you, sweetheart?”

“yes,” you spoke, breathlessly. “so much, corio.”

“i was so mean —“ he replied, in between kisses. “wasn’t i? neglecting my perfect wife. a good husband would have to make up for that.”

you hummed in agreement, almost breaking into a whine. “kiss me, corio. missed you so much…“

it was like he swallowed you. body, lips, breath, emotions — all of it. once yours, but now his. all his. your body temperature increased with every fold of his lips against yours. heat pricked at the tips of your cheeks, the back of your neck, and your lower back. your fingertips, tingling, made quick work of his buttons to strip him of his clothing.

he couldn’t deal with how slow and gentle your fingers were. he loved you and how gentle you were — but when his cock was straining against his pants? the head of his cock, so red it was almost purple, leaking at the sight of his redeemed, perfect, pregnant wife? begging for him?

you were fucked. so fucked.

he should've been disgusted at the thought of fucking his wife while the babe sat protected inside your womb. however, nothing could stop corio from rejoicing at the fact that you had never done him wrong when you had actually presented him with a gift, also showing the utmost protection for it.

you fell back against the bed, your back awkwardly landing on the edge. you couldn't stand or lay back perfectly balanced, therefore relying on your husband to hold you upright and your grip of his clothes.

"my perfect wife —" he moaned into your neck, mouthing at your clammy skin. he had shoved his hand into your panties, finding you already soaked. "glowing as a mother —"

it was like you were both succumbing to the heat and haze of all-consuming lust. your hot breaths added to the humidity in the air, making your embrace with corio feel like a sauna. he couldn't rip your lace stockings off fast enough as you struggled to hold your balance.

your husband loomed over you as one large hand cupped the back of your head. his long, talented fingers on his other hand drew rough circles on your sensitive bud and you couldn't contain your cries. it had been so long. so, so long. the feeling of loneliness and lust had dissipated and was replaced by satiation. you need corio's hot, and husky breath groaning against your ear and all of your muscles holding you up and in place, forced to take everything he could give you. tears began to well up in your eyes at the thought of not only having your corio back, but for the lonely need for intimacy to also leave you.

he laughed darkly. "you're so close already, aren't you?"

you whined, struggling to regain your composure as you fought through embarrassment. "it's just been — so long —"

"how would you feel if i took it away, little dove?" he asked, eyes taunting. "how helpless would you feel? — how much of a mess would you make?"

"don't take it away from me, corio, please —" frustration was eating at you as you held onto him. he was so far away, then so close, and he was threatening to pull away as if it was a game. your feelings, your safety, you — all a game to him.

the hand on the back of your head left you to grasp at your chin as tears rolled down your face. your teeth were firmly planted in your bottom lip as you struggled against his touch. the rope in your womb was being wrapped so tightly that you felt the strands would snap at any moment, but you knew he would pull away. his eyes, dark and boring into yours, spoke for him — you were right. it was a game, and he was loving it.

"tell me it was worth it — for this," he rasped, eyes still locked on you. "tell me all of the pain i caused you was worth it — for this."

you were writhing against his hold at this point, grinding your hips down onto his hand as you whined against his lips. you were pulling at the fabric adorning his shoulders, hoping to rip it from him — hoping to make him feel as strung out as you felt.

"it was all worth it," you croaked. "all worth it for how good this feels."

"i'll never leave you again," he promised, his movements now becoming more rough on your core. "tell me you love it. tell me you love me."

"i love you, corio — !" you cried, pressing the sides of your noses together so your lips were barely touching. "i love it so much — please, don't stop —"

"that's it, doll —" he groaned. "cry for me. do it — cry."

something snapped inside of you.

your eyes closed, and your vision went black.

your throat went hoarse from the sob that left your mouth.

your lips were ragged with how your teeth ripped into them.

but you? oh, god — you felt so full.

corio's palm rubbed against your clit as his fingers entered you, pressing into that deep spot only he could find. you rode his hand like satisfaction was the only thing that mattered to you. greed and gluttony — want and need. none of it mattered.

"mommy feels so good now, doesn't she?" corio whispered into your ear. "just needed what only daddy could give her. — s'all right — just keep cumming, darling."

"fuck, corio —" you whined, buzzing with overstimulation.

he clicked his tongue at you. "such a naughty mouth on you. i'll teach you."

and he meant it.

he immediately withdrew from you — letting you fall onto the floor with both hands on the sheets, facing the bed. you almost scrambled to get back up, until you heard corio's pants drop from behind you. he kicked open your knees, and found himself with your perfect round ass pressing into his cock. he pressed the front of you into the bed, and snaked a arm around your throat.

you felt the tip of his cock prod at your wet and swollen lips before he slipped his length inside of you. you tried to lean forward into his thrust, but corio didn't like that. with a hand wrapped around your throat, he pulled you backwards against him.

the angle made your shiver. the tip of his cock began to hit the wall right behind your clit, making your head go dizzy. his finger found the corner of your lips, dipping inside your mouth. he pulled at the corner, forcing you to look up at him.

"so helpless — so perfect —" he groaned, rutting into you. his head held you perfectly in place for his total control. "can't believe i let myself miss out on the chance to breed my perfect wife. so perfect, aren't you?"

you didn't know what to say. your head was swimming. you were barely down from your first orgasm and now corio was forcing another onn you. hormones, emotions, and sensations were running wild inside your body and you weren't sure how to make sense of the fever. coupled with his own frenzy, you were a mess. a rubber band, for him to snap and play with whenever he liked.

"i asked you a question," he snapped. "you're perfect, aren't you?"

you hesitated, working through insecurity as lust overtook your mind. mumbling, due to the finger in your mouth, you spoke, "perfect."

corio stared down at you in awe. your hair was a mess, as was the rest of you. your face was flushed, your lips were swollen, but your eyes... oh, your eyes... corio was a sick bastard. the look of any sight of wetness in your eyes during sex made his cock so hard he could explode. crying with need was a feeling corio would never let himself feel, no matter how much he wanted to let it overtake him. he wouldn't let himself feel it, but he couldn't hide the fact that he loved the vulnerability you showed when you wanted him. needed him. craved him. his thrusts weren't rough because he hated you, but because he knew that need all too well.

"keep crying for me," he rasped, letting his tongue fall past your ragged lips. "so pretty when you're a mess."

there was nothing like it — being held so tightly you couldn't move and being forced to accept the pleasure and satisfaction only corio could give you. draining you of every negative emotion you had ever felt to replace all of it with animalistic give and take. his own throaty groans were being swallowed by you, as his hips snapped relentlessly against yours.

"make me a mommy, corio," you whispered. "wan' it so badly."

his grip tightened around you as he shook with pleasure. with three thrusts and a heavy groan, he let all of his spend leak inside of you and paint your walls. you felt his rough voice against your ear, mouth obscenities as satisfaction overtook him. you hadn't came again, but you didn't care — not when the air still felt so warm and soft.

that was until you felt a hand find your clit with his softening cock still inside you.

you knew how sensitive he was, and you should've care — but you didn't. all you could think about was giving into how good his fingers felt against you, still feeling so full. the thought of him also being so sensitive while you rode his cock pricked at your senses, relishing in the fact that you were giving him a taste of his own medicine as you came around his cock.

"greedy fucking wife — !" he seethed, anger spewing from his lips as he struggled to fuck you back with his oversensitive cock. you knew it was so red that it was purple and swollen, hating you but loving every bit of you at the same time. you should've cared, but you didn't. not when you knew it felt so good for the both of you, his whines in your ear telling you everything. with one final groan against you, he spoke, "you're never leaving this fucking bedroom — i'll tie you to the bed if i have to, do you fucking understand?!"

all you could do was stare up at him with awe and tears in your eyes.

his mouth parted at the sight. with his cock still inside you, you still riding his softening cock as you rode out your orgasm, nothing was prettier. nothing fulfilled your corio more. with one last kiss, he spoke, "just as evil as me, aren't you?"

you giggled. "i love you, too."

---

if you're wondering if i went batshit insane i did HAHA hope you enjoyed

L xox

[itshermocrates]

Some thoughts on Vander and Silco's relationship

I already talked about this when Arcane S1 first came out, but now that the show is over and we got to see a different reality where everyone has a good ending (except for Vi I guess) I want to bring back my Silco x Vander thoughts

So yeah, vanco ?? silder ??? post

Even if in Arcane S1 there’s some sort of parallel between Jinx/Powder and Silco + Vi and Vander, in my eyes those two were made for an old man yaoi story

Now that we have seen Jayvik’s evolution and that glimpse of them together in a “better future”, I realized that Vander and Silco (+ Felicia) could have something similar to what was happening initially with Jayce and Viktor (+ Mel)

Two best friends working together for a common cause, one hopelessly in love with the other while his partner can’t see ―or doesn’t want to recognize― his own feelings. Since I already have a Jayvik analysis in my drafts, I’m going to focus on Silco and Vander

This will be half a theory - half a fic + I also posted this on BlueSky so yeah, if you see it there it was also me lol

[Pinning, Unrequited love and love confessions that go wrong ahead]

I think Silco and Vander were the perfect duo back in their youth, together they had the brains and the strength, using both charm and cold logic to make people eager to follow them. What Silco lacked, Vander was able to provide and vice versa. Together they were the greatest leaders Zaun could ever ask for.

They not only completed each other like two puzzle pieces, but also shared a bond that had been nurtured since childhood. They had been facing hardships and Piltover’s aggressions since they were little kids, so it was natural that the years of friendship brought them impossibly close.

Some even said that they could have entire conversations without exchanging a single word.

At some point Silco developed a crush on Vander, how could he not? Despite his strength and sometimes scary appearance, Vander had always been the big sunshine boy who was looking after him. That urge to protect and take care of others seemed to be part of his very essence, and if someone benefited from this, it was his best friend.

Of course, they needed to fight and get dirty in the deepest hellholes of Zaun, but even when Vander got his knuckles drenched in blood, Silco could only see the kind man with bright eyes and a dream for a better life that Vander truly was.

Silco really thought that this new beginning for them was only possible because Vander was there with him, since when hope seemed completely lost, when the circumstances took another member of their little family, Vander always remained firm in his stance. They would find a way, they would fight back, they would keep pushing forward and they wouldn’t stop until they finally had the future they deserved.

Oh, wasn’t he convincing? Always the beacon in their times of need, who else could lead them out of their misery?

Vander’s kindness was disarming, and his light was so bright that Silco couldn’t help but fall in love with him. He loved him so deeply it made him feel sick, but he could do nothing about it. Vander had been in love with Felicia for almost as long as Silco had loved him, and even if she wasn’t really interested in him, there was no way that man could get over his emotions.

Just like Silco himself couldn’t make his own feelings go away. He pinned for years, forcing himself to hide how he felt so nothing changed between them and he didn’t lose his best friend. He had to protect their friendship, but, above everything else, he had to protect their dream of a free nation for Zaun.

Silco pinned and suffered in silence until he couldn’t take it anymore, until his unrequited love felt like an open wound badly infected, moments away from killing him. Then, and only then, he confessed.

Vander didn’t make a huge deal out of it, he was understanding and visibly confused. It was an awkward situation, but he could be nothing but kind, even as he broke Silco’s heart. Of course, he didn’t feel the same.

Or maybe he did, but he was too blind to see it, too infatuated by the idea of a future with Felicia to give a shot to a real future with him.

Vander had used a very familiar word to excuse his lack of introspection, one that served him as a shield while unknowingly harming Silco as if it had used the sharpest of blades.

“Silco, you’re my brother…”

They used brotherhood a lot to describe their relationship. Their found family, their friends, their allies in the Zaun revolution and even the fucking pilts, they all could see how deeply they cared for each other. And every time that was the reason they assumed to be behind their bond.

No one could ever deny the love in their eyes, the protective gestures, the smiles... It was obvious, but everyone assumed that what they shared was a blood bond. For Silco it was much more than some stupid liquid running through their veins, what they shared had been built over years of companionship, years of pain and struggle, blood was fucking nothing in comparison. Their souls were connected in a way no one could ever imagine or understand.

And Vander knew this. He knew how strong their bond was, but he hadn't really asked himself if what he felt for Silco was something more than brotherhood. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do if it wasn’t the case either, but he didn’t go as far as to truly consider it.

Vander didn't know how to react to Silco's confession, he didn’t want to hurt him or change their world forever. He was happy as they currently were, it was easy to live with Silco as a brother, but he didn’t know what was waiting for them if he ever allowed himself to analyze his own feelings.

Because of this, and completely unaware of the pain he was causing, Vander uttered that seemingly harmless word that Silco couldn’t stand anymore.

Brother.

The softness in his tone didn’t make it any less devastating. The pain in his eyes, as he knew how badly he was breaking Silco's heart, didn’t make it easier to hear.

The countless "I love you"s he pronounced after that, reassuring that even if it was not the same feeling, Silco was still one of the most important people in his life didn’t soothe the agony of his reopened wound.

None of that mattered.

Because he didn't feel the same as Silco.

The same word that once had been forced on them was now stronger than anything he had built together.

Silco didn't want to feel that pain, he couldn't allow it to stay inside his chest, not when it was so profound.

So he decided to leave The Last Drop. It would be only for a couple of days, to distance himself a little from the source of his pain and try to stitch close that damned cut.

During that time, alone and completely heartbroken, he focused on thinking of ways to achieve the goal they had been fighting for since they were teenagers. The Zaunite revolution and Zaun’s independence. He ignored his pain and used all his anger to plan their next move in their fight against Piltover, thinking of new ways to finally defeat their enemy.

It was during those days, blinded by the pain of his aching heart, that he understood they could only win against Piltover if they showed their true nature to the world. He knew by then that they needed to be more aggressive in their methods and destabilize, not only their government, but also their peace.

Let their own people know what monsters they had for leaders.

Let the people of Piltover suffer the same pain they had suffered since the very moment the City of Progress came to be.

The fight had turned into a way for him to forget his own suffering, and in his anguish, provoking pain to others stopped feeling wrong at all if that meant they could get closer to their goal of freedom.

It was at this point where the conflict with Vander started. Suddenly, the word "brothers" didn't quite fit them anymore, it seemed too caring for them. Now it was a word pronounced in a low voice, and when it was Silco the one saying it, his tone could only express disgust. He rolls his eyes as if the word was some sort of sick joke he hated to voice out loud, a reminder of what could never be.

Silco’s pain is a heavy weight preventing them both from going back to what they once had, and seeing this wounded Vander every single time his friend reminded him of his rejection. This, and how differently they started to approach their fight, made them step further and further away from the other.

And when they saw each other during important meetings, Silco threw the word “brother” extremely carelessly, always with the intention to wound Vander instead of calming him and expressing how much he still loved him.

It had turned into a word that neither of them could ever forget, and that would hunt Silco until the end of his days.

It had turned into a word that neither of them could ever forget, and that would hunt Silco until the end of his days.

[There's still a lot of resentment in Silco's expression, and in this scene before saying brother, Silco rolls his eyes. The man was PISSED]

In conclusion, I think "brother" was Silco and Vander's equivalent of Jayvik's "partner" and I bet Viktor was pissed as hell everytime he heard someone reffering to him as Jayce's partner AND JUST THAT, for both scientific pride and his hopeless crush on Jayce Talis.

[nochukoo97]

we can’t be friends (wait for your love) - teaser

pairing: childhoodfriend!jk x childhoodfriend!oc

summary: you and jungkook have been friends since birth, and as you both grow into teenagers, you can’t help but have some sorr of longing feeling towards him. but after a turn of events, you move away from your home town, growing apart from the boy you onced were close to. almost a decade later when you decide to move back, there’s someone familiar yet unfamiliar waiting for your arrival… was this the universe giving you a sign about him?

warnings/tags: story starts off when the both of them are children, but most of the plot is when they are adults :)), eventual: kissing, an emotional rollercoaster 🥲, they’re stuck in a ‘what are we’ moment, playing a waiting game of who confesses first, a little bit of angst, smut, but fluff too hehe

a/n: IM BACK 🥲 after being in writers block sighhh but i am back hehehe hope u r excited for this!! anyways this is just an intro for the actual fic, its more of what happened before the present which will be in the main part hehehe

TAGLIST OPEN!!

(this is the introduction, the main part is coming soon :)))

MASTERLIST

23 July 2007

You’re currently wedged between two bookshelves in the living room of your house, eyes trained on the words in your book, giggling to yourself when the plot takes a funny turn. Meanwhile in the background, Jungkook and your brother Taehyung, both a year older than you, the two ten year old boys play fighting in your parents backyard, their game was way too rough for you to even watch, you decided.

That’s always the way it’s been since you were young, Jungkook’s mum dropping him off at your parents place as he spent time with your brother, mostly roughhousing like they are now, and you, at nine years old, simply tucking yourself in another fairytale, which to you seemed like a much better way to past time.

You never truly spent a lot of time with the two of them when Jungkook would come over, besides the once-in-a-while moments where your parents would make you guys bond a little through board games or card games which the two elder boys would never take seriously, the games always ending in them either throwing the board game pieces at each other or stacking the cards into a pyramid.

When it came to school, you tried your best to stay away from bumping into your brother at school, but you’d always end up being teased in front of your friends by him and Jungkook, making fun of your two pigtails or your very glittery pink bag you had just gotten as a birthday gift, but you were used to it anyways, having grown up with a brother.

12 August 2011

Four years go by and now you’re finally completing your last year in middle school, Jungkook and your brother having moved on to high school, and as expected, they end up attending the same school, as they have done their whole life.

But since four years ago, a lot has changed. You’ve grown much closer to Jungkook, having gone on quite a few trips with his family, and you could even consider him a close friend. Most importantly, he’d grown from being a kid to a teenager, even though he was only a year older than you, the 14 year old boy suddenly became someone you always wanted to hang out with. To you, you saw him as someone cool. Instead of teasing you along with your brother, he now would defend you from your brother’s teasing, treat you to ice cream on the weekends and even teach you the video games he played with your brother.

“And then he let me get as many toppings as I wanted,” You tell your friends, clicking the buttons on your phone to show them the picture of your ice cream, filled to the brim with all sorts of toppings because Jungkook said you could.

“You’re so lucky, I wish I had a boyfriend like that,” Jiyeon sighs, pouting her lips as she sulks.

Your face turns red, tip of your ears warm as you quickly deny, “He isn’t my boyfriend! Just a friend… In fact he was my brother’s friend first,” No, you couldn’t even begin to try and imagine Jungkook as someone more than your friend!

“Well, but you should definitely confess to him on valentine’s day, it’s in like six months,” Yuji twirls her hair, nudging your leg slightly as she giggled.

To the three of you, as 13 year old girls, having a valentine was a big deal, especially since the whole idea of a crush and all was new to you guys as teenage girls.

“No! I don’t have feelings for him! He’s just nice to me I guess,” You frown at Yuji, just because she confessed to her crush and now apparently has a boyfriend, doesn’t mean you need to do it too, you decided.

You didn’t have a crush on Jungkook right?

You push away the thought quickly, this whole topic was so taboo to you, it made you feel squirmy thinking about it. No, you didn’t have any sort of feelings towards the older boy, never.

-

So that day when you arrived back at home, spotting Jungkook and Taehyung sitting at the table and doing their homework, you decide to take a seat away from the certain boy.

“Huh? Why are you sitting all the way there? Come back here,” Jungkook hums, pulling out his earphones in bewilderment, you had always sat next to him whilst the three of you would do homework together after school, nudging him here and there to ask for help with a math problem.

“I- okay,” You scooch towards the chair next to him, dragging your books along the table as you avoid eye contact. Your cheeks heating up again as you remember your conversation with your friends in school earlier, it made you feel all tingly inside, but why were you being so weird in front of him?

“You’ve been staring at that math problem for ages, need help?”

You jump up in surprise at Jungkook’s voice , letting out a small yelp as your brother snickers at you from across the table, you kick his shin in response, sending his hands flailing to the injury, mumbling some cuss word you don’t understand.

“Yeah,” You only muster out a whisper, handing over your pencil to the boy, who finds your behaviour a little off but nonetheless, doesn’t comment on it.

And while he explains the solution and working to find the value of X, you can only notice his eyes, his nose, the mole under his lips, the scar on his cheek from when he fought with your brother years ago, his lips.

And then you for yourself to snap out of your daydream when his eyes lock with yours in confusion as to why you’re staring at him instead of your workbook.

03 January 2012

But then five months later, opportunity for valentine’s day didn’t even come for you anyways, as you pack your bags to move miles away from the place you once called home, since your father had been posted to a new country for his work.

The whole idea of leaving your life behind and all the people you’ve ever known since young was such an overwhelming feeling that you didn’t even think once about your feelings for Jungkook anymore, or maybe you did once, but it didn’t matter.

So when you tugged your luggage and watch your brother sadly hug his best friend goodbye at the airport, reality struck, you wouldn’t ever get a chance to even properly assess your feelings for Jungkook anyways, so you simply wave him goodbye, not looking back so you don’t think further than a goodbye.

He did make sure to exchange his Instagram and Facebook with you, promising you and your brother to keep in touch, which you agreed to. Maybe there was a part of you that wanted to cling onto the idea of him, but you didn’t let yourself believe that anyways.

[thatfrailsoul]

– The one dear to your heart

tarot pick a pile reading ( → 1, 2, 3 )

( pictures from pinterest : one, two, three )

For your every step closer, guided by the purest and most genuine and loving intentions, filled with the only desire to maintain and nourish this bond... There are always more steps further, far away from you, that they make frenetically, putting even more distance between your hearts, willingly tearing this connection apart... So is it even worth it? To fight for someone that seems to do so much just to hurt you and push you away? Is it really worth it, to be so patient, to try so hard to adapt or get used to their ways? Or is your hope that all of this is just a big misunderstanding that hides their desire to have you in their life... Just a dream that will never be realised?

Slow down for a moment. Give your mind a moment of rest, allow it to step back. And listen to your heart instead, to that inner voice, to the intuition that is guiding you to the pile in which your message hides.

And if you have a moment to spare before scrolling down to your message, there is something that I would be really grateful to know your opinion about, so I can make this blog as comfortable as possible.♡

Are the previews/ descriptions at the beginning of a pick a pile reading as this one helpful? Are they able to let you know what this reading will be about and if you are interested in it? Or is this something that is not necessary, or even too much for you? Would you prefer to have a shorter "intro" to a reading, perhaps in form of the questions that we will answer in that post? Or is it more comfortable for you to don't have any intro at all?

Thank you so much for letting me know! ♡

– Pile One,

the hanged man, the seven of swords, the two of swords

There is so much love, true and genuine affection in your heart. There is so much that you feel towards them, so much that you have and are ready to give to them, only to protect them and make them feel safe by your side... There is so much in your eyes when your gaze meets theirs, that is simply impossible to not understand it. It is impossible for them to not be aware of how much they are important to you, the place that they already have in your heart...

But it is also in the same way impossible for them to not be aware of how dangerous it is for you. To be so ready to sacrifice so much of yourself for someone that keeps on pushing you back. They can't ignore how not right it is, to accept such a genuine attention, even if it heals their wounds and scars. They know that they don't deserve, they are simply not ready, to be the one that your heart cares for so much.

They are aware of it, they understand it so well, they never would want to make you go through so much... But at the same time it is the only way that they know to be efficient, in protecting those that they are hurting, even when it's what they least desire. It's the only way that they have enough strength and courage for. The easiest one to make you understand how dangerous and wrong it is for you to stay by their side.

They are honest, for once, they are showing simply and truly who they are, what is going on in their mind and their heart right now. They are showing it all to you, just the way it is, so confusing, so complicated, so painful and so wrong. They do so in hopes that you understand it yourself, that you let go on you own...

Because there isn't any play in place, there aren't any lies or deeper secrets and realities, perhaps emotions that you still hope to find. There is only a really tired and confused soul, that is going through so much, but that really wants to work on it... on their own. So they don't hurt anyone in the meantime, so they don't feel guilty for something that they did without realising, for the promises that they were not able to respect for one reason or another... Just so they can manage and be responsible only for them, what they do only to themselves, not to others that don't deserve to go through it at all.

But your affection, your care and almost annoying hope and patience with them... Is so difficult to deal with. Because you simply refuse to listen to their honest words, you don't want to see the reality of their actions that are trying to show you what it means to be a part of their current world.

It is not meannes just for the sake of it, it's true. They are trying to protect you, even if in such a wrong and hurtful way. But not for this reason it is not real or it should be ignored. They are being honest with you, and they are waiting for you to push them back. Not because they are secretly wanting to have you by their side, helping them change themselves or their life... But just because you hold onto them so strongly, no matter what... Making it the only possible way to make you let go of them - making you do so on your own.

It is time now. It truly is. You did so much for them and for this connection, no matter what type of relationship it was, if there was any at all... but you did it. You ripped open your heart and showed them how much you can love and care, how much you are willing to do for someone that is a part of your life. And they did the exact same. They showed you who they are so many times... And it is the moment for you to accept it and surrender to it truly, even if it is so different from what you convince yourself them to be. There is nothing more to it. There is nothing else that they or this connection could be.

Listen for once their answers to your silent questions, see them in their actions that are so real and painful every single time. Listen to them and understand that this is not your battle, it is not your sacrifice, it is not what you deserve. Even if you care for them so much.

For once they are doing something to help you and protect you. And if there is a good moment to accept the hurt that they gave you... It is now. To accept it, understand it, and never allow it to happen again to your already tired heart.

It is enough, you did your best. And it is time to let them go now, because this is exactly what they want, this is what they are pushing you to do for already a really long time.

P.s. And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) - you can find out more about it here!♡

→ ( ♡ send me a little thank you ♡ )

– Pile Two,

the strength, the hierophant, the sun

Fortunately... There is so much more to this bond, to you and them, to your paths that so often drift apart only to realign. There is so much more to this confusion, to these ups and downs, to these questions that are filling your mind each time they are by your side. There is so much more. And incredibly enough, even after all these struggles and conflicts, you are still ready for it...

You are still ready to do it. You are still ready and willing to wait, to be patient, to do your best to understand or to make them understand.

It never changed anything, not the uncertainties, not the distance, not the misunderstandings. Nothing was ever strong or bad enough to make you even consider the idea to push them away once and for all. It isn't just any relationship, any person... It is someone that for so long was such an important part of your life, of your days and what overwhelmed your heart and mind. You learned so much thanks to them, or because of them... You grew up, you experienced things that you are sure you never would've done if it wasn't for them holding your hand every time... They did so much for you, unconsciously, without even realising it. And although you always tried to do the same for them from the very start, always tried to care for them and keep them safe, even if from themselves...they never really accepted it back. Never let you closer, or to be exact, never admitted that you are already closer than they perhaps would like to say out loud. And not only because of your care for them, but especially because of their affection to you as well... Even if it so hidden under their ways that not many would understand...

But things will start to change now, one step at a time. You will start to see their heart open up, giving you finally those answers that you never were able to find, even though you tried to have at least a vague idea of what is going on in their mind. They will show it themselves, introduce you to their soul, the one that they hid so well and for so long from everyone. That deeper understanding and connection, that oppeness and honesty, that clarity in your interactions and moments... It will finally be all here. Simply because for once and truly they will realise that there was nothing to be afraid of. That there is nothing bad in your intentions to be by their side and take care of them, be there for them, the same way they did for you when you needed it so bad.

You met them in an interesting phase of their life, in a moment of deep transformation, changes and shifts one after another. So many ups and downs that were simply too much. Enough to make them dizzy, confused about their own desires and life. It wasn't intentional, but they did pull you right in the center of it all, of the storm of all their emotions that made them so strange and every time different in how they treated others, and you of all. But it is coming to an end now, good or bad it doesn't matter. It is enough the fact itself that they will regain their balance, their peace of mind. They will be able to breathe deeply, with more serenity. They will be more relaxed, with each smile. It will be almost like a whole new person. Someone of whom you only saw some glimpses, in those times where they were so caring and sweet contrary to their usual self at that time...

And it will be all worth it. Your hope and endurance, your conviction that there was more to this person and their story, then just a bad character and negative intentions. There was more than just a desire to hurt others and push them back. There was always been a whole hidden world and story, so intimate and so difficult to share... But that they will finally tell you about. Because in the softest and most tender way you earned it, their gratefulness and trust. Because you cared for them and were patient, even when they themselves where not aware of needing it so much.

P.s. And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) - you can find out more about it here!♡

→ ( ♡ send me a little thank you ♡ )

– Pile Three,

the page of coins, the ten of coins, the king of swords

Your care for them, your affection, was always so consistent, so genuine and deep since the very beginning of this bond. Since the very first time that you felt truly connected to them, in that moment so simple and intimate but that showed you how much your minds and hearts are aligned...

But as beautiful and meaningful as it was... it was just a single moment. Just one moment that was enough for you to be sure to want to get to know more about them, to get closer to them and to connect more. But also just one moment in which it ever happened. That understanding and spark between you that never appeared again, no matter how much you waited.

Time after time, challenge after challenge, no matter what they did or how much distance they put between your hearts, you always continued to look for them. For that person and soul that you felt in that one single moment... But that they kept on hiding so well no matter what.

It wasn't really a lie or an act meant to mislead you... but it was something that is not in their character. To be so free and open and close to someone. It isn't something that they do so easily or so often. And you know it well now, after not being ever able to see them this way again no matter how much you waited for them to "come back".

It became an unintentional bait. It made you care and look for someone that you felt so special and worth it, just because of that one moment of deep and unexpected connection, nourished by those little tiny bits of gentleness that you heard in their voice, saw in their gaze that met yours every time... But that safety, that fake openness and closeness that confused you so many times, was just a consequence to all the affection and care that you gave them. It was only them feeling comfortable in the safe space that you created for them in your heart. It was just a slight nourishment of something that they never wanted to take seriously, but that still was so sweet to feel and have around sometimes.

Your affection and desire of closeness was so genuine and honest... but they used it to create something so complicated and consuming, something that takes so much of you and gives so much to them. Every time they need it. A constant source of understanding, of patience, of excuses and protection to them and their actions. So much for so little, so convenient for them to have by their side... They transformed something so pure into something so calculated and 'useful', so easy to take or to put aside... but they won't be able to do it for much longer now. Not when you, as they consume you, are starting to ask the right questions, allowing your mind to take control of the situation that went on for too long.

Hold on to those thoughts, those observations, those questions and doubts that fill your mind every time they decide that they don't want to be around you now. Hold onto those fears of being just an option, someone that comes and goes, someone that they just keep here for fun... because all of this can't possibly be just overthinking. It has a deeper meaning and you know it too. You know it because you wouldn't be here reading these words, feeling this sadness, this grip on your heart if it wasn't so.

It is time to be the one that puts some space between you. But not just for a moment, just because of a whim, like they love so much to do once in a while... Do it intentionally, do it to protect yourself, to honour yourself and your pure heart that gave so many chances, so much time, to someone that used it only to play around. No matter the circumstance, the situation, the relationship... it is just not right. To be treated this way, to receive so little, when you gift so much of yourself every single time.

P.s. And if you would like to receive more clarity and guidance about your situation (through a personal or free reading) - you can find out more about it here!♡

→ ( ♡ send me a little thank you ♡ )

[tinytinyblogs]

Darling, i'm sorry..

After a fight, they need to make things right with you.

Hyung line, Maknae line

💬 Life feels like a rollercoaster, and here I am, still pouring my thoughts onto the page, hoping this time it's something worth reading.

Stray kids masterlist

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Han

Sometimes, Han’s tendency to overthink would get the better of him, especially when it came to his emotions. He found himself tangled in his thoughts, turning minor issues into bigger problems. That's often where the arguments would start—over something small and insignificant. He’d begin to complain, nitpicking every detail, and before long, his voice would rise, frustration spilling over. The tension would build between you two, creating a moment of distance, even though the argument itself didn’t seem that important. After a while, though, you would both take time apart, letting things cool down. Han would often sit in silence, reflecting on his actions. His eyes would wander to the closed bedroom door where you were, and he’d start thinking about the argument again. Slowly, it would hit him how much his overreactions could cost him. The fear of losing you, the one person he loved most, would wash over him, stronger than any frustration he’d felt earlier. In those moments, he realized that his biggest fear wasn’t the fight itself but the thought of pushing you away.

He took a hesitant step closer to the bedroom door, feeling the weight of the moment settle heavily on his shoulders. For a brief moment, he stood in silence, contemplating everything that had transpired between you both. His heart raced as he reached out, his hand finally grasping the doorknob, and he turned it slowly, the soft creak of the door echoing in the stillness of the room. When he stepped inside and his eyes fell on you, he was struck by the sight of you silently crying, your shoulders trembling with the weight of your emotions. A deep sigh escaped his lips as he quietly closed the door behind him, wanting to create a barrier between the two of you and the outside world. He moved closer, his footsteps barely making a sound on the floor, as he settled down beside you on the bed. Without saying a word, he allowed his forehead to rest gently against your shoulder, seeking comfort in your presence. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with a mixture of remorse and vulnerability.

“It’s such a silly thing we fought about, and I never wanted to hurt you.” He lifted his head slightly, looking deep into your tear-filled eyes, and reached out to gently wipe the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. The tenderness of the gesture held a promise of understanding and love. “You know I love you, right? More than anything in this world,” he continued, his voice thick with emotion. “It hurts so much to even think about the possibility of you walking out of my life. I can’t imagine what that would be like.” His heart ached as he watched the pain in your eyes, and he knew that the love he felt for you was more profound than any argument they could ever have. He wanted nothing more than to bridge the gap that had formed between you, to reassure you that no disagreement could ever diminish the bond you shared. In that quiet moment, he hoped you could feel his sincerity, and he silently vowed to do whatever it took to make things right between you two, to ensure that the love you both cherished would always prevail.

Felix

He often gets so absorbed in his games that it feels like he’s in another world, completely disconnected from everything around him. His intense focus blocks out everything, including you. You’ve seen it happen before—he becomes so fixated on his game that it's as if you’re invisible, no matter what you say or do. He doesn’t mean to push you away, but in those moments, it’s hard not to feel ignored and unimportant. It’s like he’s locked inside his own bubble, and you’re left standing on the outside. You try to be patient, but after a while, it becomes too much. You grab your things, deciding to leave. As you walk toward the door, frustration bubbling inside, you hear a shift behind you. He’s realized what’s happening. His head snaps up from the game, the characters on his screen frozen, as he rises from his chair. Losing the game is the least of his worries now. All that matters is stopping you from walking out. Just as you’re about to open the apartment door, his hand catches yours, gently but firmly holding you back. His touch is a silent apology, a sign that he knows he’s hurt you.

He held your hand, his eyes meeting yours, searching for something—understanding, forgiveness. His expression alone spoke volumes, conveying the apology he couldn’t put into words. For a moment, he stood still, the silence between you filled with unspoken regret. Then, he took a few steps closer, the faint sound of his game still playing in the background, left running—something he almost never did. It was a small sign, but enough to show you just how much his focus had shifted to you, and how much he cared in this quiet, vulnerable moment. "Don’t go…" he whispered, his voice soft but filled with an urgency that cut through the silence. It was low, almost pleading, but you heard it clearly. "Please, don’t go. I don’t want you to." His hand tightened around yours, his desperation growing with each passing second. He repeated, "I’m sorry, please… don’t leave me." His breath was shaky as he struggled to find the right words, his emotions getting the better of him. "You’re more important than everything… more important than anything else," he said, his voice breaking slightly.

"I know I messed up, but I can’t lose you. I’ll do anything, just… stay." His eyes searched yours, filled with a mix of regret and fear, his vulnerability laid bare in those few words. His hand gently caressed your cheek, the warmth of his touch calming the tension between you. He leaned in and placed a soft kiss on your forehead, his lips lingering there for a brief moment as if to silently promise things would get better. "Let’s do something together," he said softly, his voice filled with tenderness. "I’ll turn off my computer." He stepped back slightly, his eyes locking with yours in a way that made you feel seen, as if all his attention was now on you. "It’s been a while since we did a cooking date, hasn’t it?" he asked, a small, hopeful smile tugging at his lips. "Should we cook something special or maybe bake together?" There was a light in his eyes now, a spark of excitement as he tried to reconnect with you, eager to bring back the simple joys you once shared.

Seungmin

There are times when Seungmin’s words can be quite sharp. While you understand this side of him, knowing that he doesn't always mean to come across so harshly, it doesn’t change the fact that some of his remarks still hit you hard, especially when you’re feeling low yourself. In those moments, the weight of his words feels even heavier, like a blade slicing through an already fragile situation. The tension builds until both of you are trading hurtful words back and forth. Eventually, it escalates to the point where you and Seungmin decide to walk away, giving yourselves space to cool off. As you turn to leave, you catch a glimpse of Seungmin’s expression—his face is blank, almost emotionless, as if nothing you said got to him. But you know better. It’s just a mask he wears, hiding the fact that he’s upset, deeply wounded, especially when he watches you walk away. Seeing your back as you leave stings more than he’s willing to admit. His pride and ego hold him back from saying something right away, but after some time passes, you find him standing there, leaning against the wall, arms crossed tightly over his chest, waiting for you.

The moment he spots you, he slowly drops his arms, his eyes locking on yours. For a few long, tense moments, neither of you says anything, both drawn into the silence that hangs between you, heavy with unspoken feelings. He lets you open the door first, quietly following you inside without saying a word. As the two of you sit down on the couch, the silence stretches between you, heavy and awkward. You sit side by side, close but somehow feeling distant. After what feels like an eternity, you notice him looking down at his hands, his fingers fidgeting nervously as he awkwardly caresses his own knee. There’s a tension in the air, thick with unsaid things. “I realized I was wrong,” he finally admits, his voice quiet but sincere. “I shouldn’t have said those things.” He pauses, his eyes still fixed on his hands as if he can’t bring himself to meet your gaze. “I didn’t mean it... you know me. I’m not good at expressing how I feel.” His voice trails off, and you can hear the struggle in his tone, the vulnerability that he so rarely shows. It’s not easy for him to admit his mistakes.

And the fact that he’s saying it now, in this moment, speaks volumes about how much he regrets what happened. He glances at you, noticing how you seem lost in your thoughts, your eyes fixed on the floor. For a moment, he hesitates, unsure of how to reach you. Slowly, he extends his hand and gently takes yours, his thumb brushing softly over the back of your hand in a comforting gesture. The warmth of his touch pulls you out of your thoughts, though you still don’t meet his gaze. “I made reservations,” he says quietly, breaking the silence. You look at him, a little confused at first. “At that restaurant you mentioned—the one you said you wanted to try.” His voice is soft but carries a hopeful tone, as if he’s trying to rebuild a bridge between you. Your eyes finally meet his, and you see the sincerity in them, the way he’s trying to make things right, to reconnect. “Let’s... go on a date,” he suggests, his voice a little more sure now. “I miss us. I miss our time together.” The words are simple but carry a weight of longing, and in that moment, you feel the gap between you starting to close, if only a little.

Jeongin

Jeongin's clumsiness had always been a part of him, something almost endearing in most situations, but this time it came at the worst possible moment. The argument had started over something small, but it quickly spiraled into something bigger—something that meant a lot to him. It was about one of those things he'd worked so hard for, something that he held close to his heart. Yet, in the heat of the moment, his words came out wrong. He felt cornered and defensive, and that only led to more hurt. Instead of fixing things, his attempts to explain himself only worsened the situation, breaking what he had worked so hard to build. The argument turned into a full-blown fight, and before he knew it, both of you were deeply upset. Jeongin hated it. He never wanted to be in this kind of conflict, especially not with the person he loved most in the world. But there he was, standing in the middle of it, and though he knew it was wrong, he couldn’t stop. His pride had taken over, and his ego spoke for him instead of his heart.

He wanted you to understand his side too, but it seemed impossible to get his point across without sounding cold or distant. After the fight, Jeongin was left with a gnawing feeling of regret. He thought about it over and over, replaying the conversation in his head, wishing he'd said things differently. He wanted to apologize so badly, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He was too shy, too proud, too unsure of how you'd react. Several times, he picked up his phone, thinking about texting you, typing out the words he wanted to say. But each time, his fingers hovered over the send button before he ultimately deleted the message. He would stare at the empty screen, sighing in frustration, wishing he could express how he really felt without the fear of making things worse. Days passed, and with each one, Jeongin found it harder to think about what to say. The more time went by, the more he realized it wasn’t about finding the perfect words. He didn't need a carefully crafted apology or a long explanation. What he really wanted was to fix things, to go back to how they were before the fight.

So, without thinking about it too much, his feet led him to your place. There was no grand plan, no rehearsed speech. When he saw you, all the hesitation, the worry, the uncertainty melted away. Without saying a word, he walked straight up to you and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a sudden, unexpected hug. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling your familiar scent—the one he loved more than anything. His embrace was warm, a comfort you hadn’t realized you missed after days of distance between you. "I’m stupid," he whispered, his voice soft and regretful. "The fight was stupid." His arms tightened around you as if he was afraid to let go. "I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to break it, and I didn’t mean to scream at you." After a moment, he pulled back, his eyes locking onto yours with a sincerity that made your heart ache. "I’ll buy a new one," he promised softly, his voice laced with remorse. "And I’ll make it up to you, to us. I’m sorry… I love you." His words hung in the air, filled with a quiet desperation to fix what had been broken, to start again.

[austinswife]

TIMELESS

REQUEST — by @sxphia-g

SYPNOSIS — Y/N and Austin Butler were co-stars on a hit Disney show in their teenage years, sparking a relationship that quickly made them one of Hollywood’s favorite young couples. Years later, Y/N’s portrayal of Belle in Beauty and the Beast and Austin’s iconic performance as Elvis Presley solidified their positions as superstars. Despite the pressures of fame, long distances, and the chaos that comes with their high-profile careers, their love never faltered. Fans look back on their favorite moments over the years, recalling how the couple stood by each other through it all, from their Disney days to walking red carpets at award shows. This is a recollection of their love story as told by those who adore them most.

WARNING(S) — Fluff, brief mentions of media speculation and fan culture, strong emotional connections.

𝜗𝜚 ALL FEEDBACKS, IDEA SUGGESTION, REQUEST — TO AUSTINSWIFE

divider by @/chilumitos

The love story of Y/N and Austin Butler is one that fans have been following for over a decade, ever since their debut on Disney Channel. The two met on the set of the hit show Teen Spirits, where Austin played the laid-back, charismatic lead, and Y/N had a recurring role as his love interest during a pivotal season. While Y/N’s time on the show was brief, their chemistry was undeniable, and their bond only grew stronger off-screen.

Fans on social media have frequently recounted their favorite moments with the couple. As they both transitioned into adulthood and forged their own careers, their relationship stayed as iconic as ever. Interviews, red carpet appearances, and social media posts all gave glimpses into their lasting bond, and fans couldn’t help but admire the way they supported each other throughout their journeys.

YEAR ONE: THE DISNEY CHANNEL YEARS

“I remember when they did that Disney Channel holiday special and Austin was giving an interview about his favorite Christmas traditions,” a fan recalls in a Twitter thread. “He kept getting distracted because Y/N was playing with the ornaments behind him, and you could just tell he was smitten. It was so cute!”

During their time on Teen Spirits, Y/N and Austin kept their relationship relatively private, but fans could always sense the connection between them. The way Austin’s eyes would light up whenever Y/N was around, or how she would laugh a little too hard at his jokes—those small moments made it clear that something special was brewing.

After Y/N’s final episode aired, the rumors started swirling. Paparazzi caught them at a music festival together, and soon after, Austin confirmed in an interview that they were dating. The media was abuzz, but their fans were elated. They were the “it” couple of Disney, the ones who weren’t just characters on-screen but seemed to genuinely enjoy each other’s company off-screen too.

YEAR FIVE: Y/N BECOME BELLE

As the years passed, both Y/N and Austin took on bigger projects. Y/N’s role as Belle in the live-action adaptation of Beauty and the Beast was a massive success, earning her acclaim as one of the most talented actresses of her generation. Fans loved seeing her take on such an iconic role, and even more, they loved how Austin stood by her side through it all.

“I remember when the trailer for Beauty and the Beast dropped, and Austin tweeted, ‘My Belle, always and forever,’ with a rose emoji,” one fan reminisces on TikTok. “That was the moment I knew they were endgame.”

Y/N often talked about how supportive Austin was during the filming of Beauty and the Beast. “He would send me flowers every week to remind me how proud he was,” she said in an interview. “Even though we were miles apart while I was on set, he made sure I never felt alone.”

Their red carpet appearance at the movie’s premiere was one for the books. Y/N, dressed in a stunning yellow gown that paid homage to Belle’s iconic look, walked hand-in-hand with Austin, who was dressed in a classic black tuxedo. The way they looked at each other, the subtle touches, and the way Austin never left her side that night cemented them as Hollywood’s golden couple.

YEAR TEN: THE ELVIS ERA

Things could have taken a turn when Austin was cast as Elvis Presley in Baz Luhrmann’s biopic, a role that required months of intense preparation and filming in Australia. Fans worried that the distance and the pressure of such a demanding role might strain their relationship. But Austin and Y/N proved, once again, that their love was stronger than any challenge.

“I’ll never forget the interview Austin did with GQ when he talked about Y/N staying with him in Australia during filming,” a fan posts on Reddit. “He said she was his anchor, and that every time things got overwhelming, he could count on her to bring him back to himself.”

Austin’s performance as Elvis was transformative. He dedicated himself to the role, and it paid off with critical acclaim and awards buzz. But even as he skyrocketed to new heights of fame, Y/N remained his biggest supporter. Fans couldn’t help but notice how, during press tours and interviews, Austin would always find a way to mention her. Whether it was talking about how she helped him stay grounded or how they spent their time off exploring the city together, it was clear that Y/N was always on his mind.

At the Oscars, when Austin was nominated for Best Actor, Y/N was by his side. “When they called his name, I swear I saw Y/N tear up,” one fan posted on Twitter. “And when he went up to accept his award, the first thing he did was thank her. It was such a beautiful moment.”

YEAR FIFTEEN: REFLECTING ON A TIMELESS LOVE

As their careers flourished, so did their relationship. They became known not only for their individual talents but also for how they uplifted each other. Fans have always been quick to point out the moments when Austin and Y/N were each other’s biggest cheerleaders, whether it was Austin gushing about Y/N’s voice in Beauty and the Beast or Y/N sharing how proud she was of Austin for his dedication to portraying Elvis.

“It’s rare to see a couple last this long in Hollywood, especially when they started so young,” one fan account posted. “But Austin and Y/N have always seemed different. They just… fit. Like, they’re two halves of a whole, and no matter how crazy things get, they’ve always got each other.”

In a heartfelt interview, Y/N once said, “We’ve been through so much together, from our Disney days to where we are now. It hasn’t always been easy, but the one constant has been our love for each other. He’s my best friend, and I couldn’t imagine doing life without him.”

Fans, too, couldn’t imagine a world where Y/N and Austin weren’t together. Their story, full of shared dreams, unwavering support, and endless love, was a beacon of hope for anyone who believed in lasting love.

Today, social media remains abuzz with clips, interviews, and fan edits of Austin and Y/N’s journey. From their early Disney days to the pinnacle of their careers, fans never stopped rooting for them.

One fan sums it up perfectly: “They’re the real-life fairytale. They’ve faced so many challenges, but in the end, their love always wins. It’s like something out of a movie, but better—because it’s real.”

And that’s how Y/N and Austin’s love story has remained, even after all these years. Real, timeless, and a true Hollywood legend.

Timeless is a love story remembered not only for the milestones shared between two superstars but for the way their love has become a part of their legacy.

i hope you enjoy this ♥︎

[fanfic-obsessed]

No Memories, Just Vibes

There is a part of the Jedi Apprentice series that has sparked two different ideas, of which this is the first. 

Early in one of the books, before Obi Wan is taken as a padawan, Qui Gon Jinn witnesses a duel between him and another initiate. Qui Gon perceives that these two pre teens (if I remember correctly, Obi Wan is a few weeks away from turning 13 and Bruck Chun was a few months to a year younger) are too angry and tells Obi Wan that he is destined to fall, that training Obi Wan would be a waste of time. 

As traumatizing as this speech is, when we take into account Obi Wan’s entire story it is also, objectively, the single most hilarious thing that Qui Gon Jinn could say to Obi Wan Kenobi. 

From this Two ideas were born. 

IDEA 1

The first is that as soon as Qui Gon tell Obi Wan that he is destined to fall, the Force drops post Death Star Qui Gon into current time Qui Gon’s head. Except there are no memories, just vibes.  So between one moment and the next Qui Gon goes from ‘I will not teach you. Get away from me’ to ‘this is my baby padawan, my little boy! Isn’t he precious?’.

And the Masters watching, particularly those responsible for assigning the Master/Padawan pairs, go ‘we were going to let you take the baby, until just now. Now we need do a psych eval’

And Obi Wan (twelve years old) is a mix of emotions that he is not sure there is a word for.  Ten minutes ago he was hopeful that Qui Gon Jinn would take him as a padawan. Three minutes ago the same master shattered that hope and left him devastated. Now the Master who devastated him is now hugging him and babbling about a padawan braid and how Obi Wan is his son.

Nothing makes sense.

Eventually, after innumerable medical and psychological tests, Qui Gon is allowed to take Obi Wan as a Padawan. At some point, during the evaluations, Qui Gon comes to two ‘realizations’ (based on nothing but vibes). The first is that he decides that Obi Wan must be the chosen one, but Qui Gon cannot tell anyone, believing that Qui Gon would not be allowed to teach him (left over vibes from the High council not letting him take Anakin as a Padawan) and to not put excess pressure on the baby. He also decides that Obi Wan’s goodness (the vibe that Obi Wan is incapable of falling) is just what is needed to bring Xanatos back to the light. 

It should be noted that Qui Gon communicates this plan poorly to Obi Wan, who perceives that Qui Gon took him on to be bait for Qui Gon’s fallen former padawan.  Obi Wan, though lacking in much of the trauma that we associate with him, is fairly fatalistic and just shrugs, thinking ‘well, this might as well happen’.

As soon as Qui Gon is released from medical, he takes himself and his shiny new padawan haring across the galaxy looking for Xanatos.  It takes long enough to find him that Feemor hears about what is going on and, out of concern for the child involved, goes to find them. When he arrives Qui Gon is waving Obi Wan at Xanatos going ‘I got you a baby brother.’

Feemor, somehow both too young and too old for this shit, goes ‘For Kriffs sake, Qui Gon’ and briefly steals Obi Wan. 

At some point Obi Wan and Xanatos bond enough that the next time that Xanatos tells Qui Gon that Xan is going to kill him, Obi Wan pipes up saying that Qui Gon was the only master ho would take him and Obi wan really wants to be a Jedi.

Xanatos now has a new mission, to find a new Master for his little brother, so he can go back to trying to murder Qui Gon. (For handwavy reasons, we’ll call it the repudiation, Feemor is not allowed to take Obi Wan as a Padawan-Xanaots asked). 

So now we have the weirdest chase in history. Qui Gon is vibing and chasing Xanatos. Xantos is leading Qui Gon on a chase and looking for another Jedi Master without getting skewered (because of the darksider thing). Obi Wan is being dragged along with Qui Gon, hoping that he gets to learn something about being a jedi before he is killed? He is not even sure. Feemor is following Qui Gon and Obi Wan, occasionally confiscating Obi Wan, because he is not sure anyone should be exposed to this much Qui Gon over any length of time. 

They are also utterly ignoring both the senate and the Jedi council. Well Feemor and Qui Gon are ignoring the Jedi Council and the Senate. Xanatos, since he is not part of the Jedi Order any longer, is not bound to either.  Obi Wan is actually filling out the required reports to the best of his abilities but the information boils down to ‘We continue to ignore the assigned mission, I am thirteen (having had a birthday in the interim) and cannot change that. Feemor is quite kind when he abducts me.’

You may or may not have guessed but this clusterfuck lands on Galidraan.  Just before the fighting between Jango Fett’s True Mandalorians and Dooku’s Jedi is due to erupt.  Qui Gon wanders through the tense standoff, stops and with no context whatsoever goes ‘Oh, everyone here is being tricked’. With him is thirteen year old Obi Wan, a tiny child.  Xanatos, who beat them to the planet by about an hour strides dramatically as fuck from the other side of the potential battlefield shouting out ‘Qui Gon Jinn, you ass…’ before clocking the Jedi and going ‘Jedi’.

Feemor also lands and exits his ship from yet another direction, already looking like he had a headache, going ‘Qui Gon, what he Kriff’. 

Now the tense standoff between the Madalorians and the Jedi is derailed as everyone involved goes from violent rage to baffled rage. Also everyone recognizes that there is now a kid on the battlefield and no one wants to be the one to fight a tiny child. This does eventually defuse things enough that contacts can be exchanged and everyone gets to realize that the governor is the asshole.

Qui Gon refuses to elaborate (and frankly is unable to elaborate, he has no information only vibes) on the ‘Everyone is being tricked’ thing. Or what he meant when he wandered up to Jango Fett, peered at him, and told him ‘You’re not the right one, but I won’t hold it against you’ (what Qui Gon means, even if he doesn’t realize it, is that Jango is not Cody).  At some point or another during the time that they are figuring this out, everyone in the combined party of Jedi/Darksiders/Mandalorians/Other says ‘For Kriffs sake, Qui Gon’ (This includes two Deathwatch prisoners captured during the campaign).

Throughout this Xanatos keeps trying to corner other Jedi to get them to take on Obi Wan, except he is also not great at communicating his intentions, so it is perceived that he is trying to get rid of Obi Wan so that he can have Qui Gon to himself.  No one is willing to question any further, though most are a little freaked out. 

IDEA 2

The second idea is not quite as detailed. It’s a Read/Watch the series.  Again we start from Qui Gon telling Obi Wan that he is destined to fall. The Force pulls everyone (initiates, knights, Masters, and the Council members) in the area outside of time where they watch the Movies and shows (Starting with TPM and watching in chronological Order: The prequels, The Clone Wars, Kenobi, the OT) with a focus on Obi Wan Kenobi.  

So everyone gets to go ‘Oh, Obi Wan is actually awesome’. Except of course for Obi Wan, who nearly has a breakdown believing that this is proof that he should not be a Jedi knight (somehow convinced that the Purge/Order 66 is actually his own fault). 

So now Obi Wan has a plethora of Masters who want to train him (including Qui Gon, who again believes that Obi Wan must be the Chosen One) , additional trauma of survivor's guilt before the events that he survived, and a shiny new appointment with the mind healers. He also has the admiration of the initiates that had previously bullied him. 

The Jedi council is able to piece together enough information on the Sith to try and change things, with varying results.

[nocasdatsgay]

Be Good

Pairing: Female Reader/Azriel/Eris | Rated: E🌶️

Neapolitan bonds Master post | Word Count: 2493|

Summary: Eris had an important meeting so he told you to listen to Azriel, but no sex. He didn’t say anything about the shadows having similar restrictions

Warnings: edging (female reader), daddy kink, light bdsm, mentions of rope and wax play, praise kink, mating bond three-ways. No use of y/n just second POV.

A/N: Eris=Daddy and Az=Sir. Reader=Princess, baby girl, my love. I also never claimed to be an expert in light bdsm. Idk what happened I wanted praise kink with Eris and Az and got this.

Read it here on ao3| Read below

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eris said to do what Azriel said.

That’s how you ended up in your study, hands pinned to the desk by shadows. You sat on his lap with his hard cock pressed against your backside. He didn’t touch you; he wasn’t allowed to fuck you and you both knew if his hands met your bare skin you’d both be in trouble. But his shadows however weren’t under those constraints.

“Open up your bond to our mate, baby,” he whispered in your ear. The cool breeze of shadows slipped up your skirts.

“But he’s still in a meeting.”

“I know.” You could hear the wicked smirk in his voice as he pressed a kiss to the back of your head. “We’re just going to tease him. He’ll let you in.”

“But I’ll get in trouble.” You whimpered as those shadows swirled along your thighs.

“You want to be a good girl, don’t you? You have to listen to me. I won’t let you get in trouble.”

“You promise?”

You gasped as something cold- another shadow- slipped down the front of your dress.

“Have I ever lied to you baby girl?”

You twisted your shoulders around to look back at him with a skeptical look. He only chuckled at you. You normally kept your bond shut down during the day. Mostly because with two mates, nothing would get done if emotions were shared all the time. The three of you learned that after your frenzy. Azriel seemed to read your mind since your bond was wide open to him. You focused on opening the bond to Eris while he ran his hands down your sides.

“Remember the day when we accepted the bond?” Gods did you ever. His hands fisted the skirt of your dress, dragging the fabric up just slightly. “That night you took both of us so well.”

You remembered.

You’d winnowed to the cabin when the frenzy started. They both had their turns with you individually and with each other. But the bond was still squirming in your chest and you begged them both to take you at the same time. Eris was behind you and Az in front. You’d never been so full in your life. You’d never screamed so hard when all three of you came together, the bonds between you wide open and flooded with pleasure.

“We should do that again.” Azriel’s voice brought you back from the memory. “Take a week at the cabin. I want to work you open real slow.” His hands slipped over your dress and pulled your thighs apart without actually touching you. “I want to see you take us both in that pretty pussy of yours.”

“Az!”

You squirmed in his lap, both legs now draped over each side of his own. A shadow had slipped into your panties and ghosted along your clit. Another shadow was stroking along your breasts. Azriel’s chuckle rumbled in his chest. He brushed your hair side and nipped at your neck.

“Be good and Eris will come take care of you. Then next week, I get to play.”

“And do what?” you panted.

“First I’m going to fuck our mate so stupid, he’ll be calling me High Lord.”

“And me?”

By the Mother, the shadows were doing too good of a job teasing you. You couldn’t think about anything else but getting Azriel’s fingers into your cunt.

“I have ropes and a paddle waiting for you, princess.” You whimpered and wiggled your hips back against his cock. He growled into your ear and added. “Careful. You know what happens to brats when it’s my week.”

That brought a moment of clarity in the haze.

“Punish me then. I’ll just lick your wings until you beg.”

You yelled. Azriel was out of the chair and shadows were pulling you by your wrists down the desk so you bent over it. He didn’t take off your panties nor did he throw up your skirts. He kept you there for a moment not touching you. Then you felt him crowd around you, wings blocking the lights.

“Try that again.”

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly. He hummed at that.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” He whispered in your ear.

“I want your hands on me.” That shadow in your panties was rubbing your clit faster. Your breath quickened. “I want your fingers. I want them- I want them in me.”

“What else?” Az pulled back and spanked you. Not enough to hurt but enough to make you yelp and stand on your toes. “I thought you were my good girl.”

“I am!” Gods you were close.

“Then why are you being sassy?” He laughed but you didn’t think it was funny.

“I’m not!”

Your skin was on fire. You could smell the arousal coming off Az in waves, torturing you on top of what he was pushing down the bond. You flexed your hands and stood on your toes, wanting to fall off the edge. Then the shadow left. You sobbed out a whine, tears in your eyes.

“Sir, please.”

You slumped on the table. A low primal growl behind you made you shiver.

“There she is.” He crowded you again. Shadows were back on your thighs, the cool brush of them teasing you more. “Hi baby. Close your eyes and listen to me. Don’t speak unless I ask you too.”

You did as you were told. Hazy want settled over you and you wished he’d touch you.

“Good girl.” You whined and pushed your hips back but he wasn’t having it. He held your hips in place. “Don’t be greedy, Princess. Our mate isn’t here, remember.” You nodded. “I want you to think about the last time I really fucked you.”

Last week came to mind. He had you by the hair, fucking your mouth while tears streamed down your face. Or when he had you on the bed, arms tied and legs pressed back so he could get in as deep as he wanted.

“Send that down the bond.”

You were sure Eris already knew what you were thinking but you pushed it through anyway. You thought a hum of approval came back to you.

“Think about what our mate is going to do to you when he’s done with his meeting,” Az whispered. Warmth in your chest bloomed at the thought of Eris coming back. “I know for a fact he’s been wanting you all day.”

You bit your lip, flashes of Eris fluttered through your mind. Shadows were in your panties again. You kept your eyes closed even while you squirmed.

“I showed him how to tie the rope but he still needs practice. Do you want me to put you in the rope tonight, baby? I could tie you up like a present and leave you on the bed for him. You can answer.”

“Not allowed,” you shook your head.

Az hummed approval. “You listen to us so well.”

You nodded. You did listen. Eris said no sex and no rope. Not unless he was present. You weren’t sure if it was a test of your honor or a test of patience. Probably the latter.

“We will practice on you later.” He kept talking. “He can get out the safe candles. I want to see you squirm again.”

You squeezed your legs at the thought. You knew it was going down the bond but the images you weren’t sure if it was from yourself or one of them. Flashes of Eris dripping wax on you while Az had his head between your legs. The snug feeling of the soft rope on your skin. You were close again, pleasure building in your pelvis and thighs. The shadows left again and you wanted to cry.

“Az,” you couldn’t get out the rest, a smack on your ass taking your breath away.

“That’s not my name right now, princess.”

You pouted. “Sorry sir.”

“You’re forgiven, baby.”

Az kept you like that for what felt like hours. His shadows would tease and tease, getting you close and then stopping, denying you of release. You’d beg and plead but Az wouldn’t let you cum.

“You can’t cum without Eris here, baby,” Az would chuckle.

At one point you heard his leathers being undone. You were so wet, you could feel it on your thighs.

“Sir please. I want it. I need it. I’ve been a good girl.”

You fucking knew he was stroking himself. Your mouth watered at the thought. You wiggled your hips, pesky shadows damn near overstimulating you. Az was still laughing at you like he wasn’t the cause of your current duress.

“I know Princess. You’ve been the best girl. You have to be patient and wait for Eris.”

But you were done waiting. You needed Eris right then. You needed him so bad you were throbbing from it. If Az wouldn’t take care of you, Eris would. You tugged on the bond without thinking, sending all your want down it. Come get me please is what you sent. The bond tugged back twice. I’m coming for you. Your eyes fly open. Eris was coming.

Daddy was coming.

“Daddy’s coming,” you whisper out loud. You pull at your wrists but the shadows don’t budge. “Daddy is coming for me.”

“Okay Princess,” Az was running his hands through your hair, instantly calming you from the frenzy of the moment. “You’re going to sit down in this chair and act like nothing happened. Okay?”

“Yes sir,” you sighed.

Shadows enveloped you smelling like Az and that calmed you down a little. Wrist shadows let up and he guided you back into your chair before the shadows went back around your wrists.

“Don’t say anything. I want him surprised.”

You nodded and waited.

Not even a minute passed when the door to your chambers opened and slammed shut. Heavy footsteps echoed as they approached the study and you had the nerve to hold your breath, waiting. You really shouldn’t have been surprised when a warm hand dug into your hair and pulled your head back over the top of your chair.

You blinked and stared up at Eris. His short red hair was askew, like he’d been running his hands through it constantly. He was breathing heavily.

“My love,” he said, looking down at you. You squirmed in your seat at how blown his pupils were. “You knew I had an important meeting today. Explain to me why, for the last hour and a half, you’ve been sending very distracting things down our bond.”

A shadow tightened on your wrist. A warning. You looked up at him and pleaded with your eyes. Eris was smart; his gaze flickered to where your hands laid on the desk. His grip loosened.

“Azriel.”

Laughter filled the room and behind you, you knew Azriel had stepped out of the shadows where he was hiding. Eris still didn’t let go of your hair.

He looked back down to you. “Did Azriel make you tease me, princess?” You nodded. With a heavy sigh, he let you go.

“Azriel.” Eris’s voice was low, and even not addressing you, it went a shiver down your spine. “You almost got our girl in a lot of trouble.”

You could feel the heat off him, his anger mounting. The shadows holding down your wrists left you and you were free to turn in your seat. Another shiver ran through you. Both your mates were staring each other down. You looked at Eris.

“Are you mad at me, Daddy?” you said softly.

“Not with you, princess,” he didn’t look at you, but still glared at Azriel who was still chuckling to himself. “You think this is funny, Azriel.”

“Of course I do.” Azriel gave him that arrogant grin he always has when he was riling his mates up. “You shut me out. I knew you’d let our girl through the bond. I’d pay good money to have seen the look on Rhys’s face, you reek of arousal.”

“And this room reeks of sex,” Eris grumbled. He glared down at you and you shrunk in on yourself. “Did he fuck you while I was gone?”

“No,” you shook your head, eyes wide. “I was good. I was a good girl. I promise.”

“She was the best girl,” Azriel smiled at you proudly. “I edged her a few times. You didn’t bar me from using shadows. They helped paint the picture of what I wanted you to feel down the bond.”

Eris glowered at Azriel. “Of course you’d find a loophole.”

You bit your lip. “Am I in trouble Daddy?”

There was a flash of recognition in his eyes, like he just realized how deep in you were.

“No,” Eris took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. “I did tell you to listen to Azriel while I was busy.”

Az came over and stroked his fingers down your cheek. “See. You’re not in trouble. I wouldn’t let you be punished for following my instructions. You know that.”

You did but after playing with you all afternoon you were in a headspace and easily convinced otherwise. You looked up at Eris through your eyelashes.

“Is your meeting over?” You asked softly. You couldn’t help but drop your gaze to his pants.

“No, it’s not.”

“I’ll go,” Azriel said while he ran his fingers through your hair. You instantly relaxed at the touch. “It’s just Rhys.”

“And Tarquin. And Helion.”

Eris put his hands on his hips but you could stare at his crotch. Maybe you could convince him to use your mouth. You’d been so good for Az, you wanted to be good for Eris too.

“I can handle them while you take care of our girl.” Goosebumps crawled up your skin from his words and the way he played with your hair. “She’s been so good. She deserves it.”

“Good for you, maybe.” You whimpered and Eris looked down at you, a flash of regret on his face.

“I can be good for you too, I promise.” You whispered.

Eris sighed and looked at Azriel. “Go. But don’t think you aren’t getting punished later for making me look like a fool.”

“I look forward to it.” He leaned down by your ear and whispered, “Show our mate what a good girl you are.”

“Okay,” you nod.

Azriel hummed an acknowledgment and you looked to watch him disappear into the shadows. You didn’t have much time to react to Eris walking up and lifting you out the chair. He marched with you draped over his shoulder and laid you onto the bed.

“Daddy expects you on your best behavior.” You bit your lip while he stood by the bed and took off his jacket. “Is your bond to Azriel open?”

“Yes daddy.” Your eyes widened with want while you watched him work on his shirt next.

“Good. Take off that dress and let’s show our mate what it feels like to be toyed with.”

Sequel here: Now Behave