#I don't know I just thought it was interesting

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 6

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

DEFINETLY NSFW! Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible.

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

For somebody that filled her romance novels with plenty of smut… Sky wasn’t exactly as experienced as one may expected. 

Actually…she was woefully inexperienced.

There had been Admon…and Admon it had been.

The rest of the stuff in her books…well, that was just her fantasy wildly spinning stories about how sex should feel. Informed by plenty of books she had read, other authors, and of course…there were the two people that got to read every book she wrote before it was published: Orla, her publisher, and her friend Ressina, who was nice enough to take the pen to every thing she wrote that was woefully inaccurate. 

Because nothing ever felt to her like she portrayed it in the books.

Maybe that was normal. Maybe it was because of course her books portrayed something…better than reality, an escape from it. But still…sometimes Sky had just wondered…

As Azriel carried her towards the bedroom, Sky couldn’t help but feel a flutter of nervousness in her stomach. It wasn’t that she didn’t want this, she did, more than anything. But the truth was, she was…nervous.

She had written about this moment countless times, had described it in vivid detail in her novels. But now that it was actually happening, she felt…insecure. What if it wasn’t as good in real life as she made it out to be on paper? What if she did disappoint him?

(Sky knew that she had disappointed Admon numerous times…that she seemingly had never been enough for him…had been so bad at it in fact that he had instead slept with her sister…which was a whole other kettle of fish that she really didn’t want ot think to close about right now.)

Sky tried to push those thoughts aside, to focus on the here and now. 

Azriel was here with her, he wanted her just as much as she wanted him. She could feel it in the way he held her, the way he looked at her. And yet, that nagging feeling of doubt still lingered.

And then there was the fact while he had admitted to sending his shadows to search for her… Sky was still keeping a rather big secret.

“Az…Azriel…” she said hesitantly.  “There…there is one thing you should know about me.”

Azriel paused, setting Sky down on the bed gently before turning to look at her. 

"Go on," he prompted her gently, taking her hand in his as he sat down next to her and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You can tell me anything, Sky." She believed him. he wouldn’t judge her. She was sure of that as well. 

“You…You k…know how…how I…I write… ro…romance no..novels?” Sky asked him, biting her lip.

Azriel nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Yes, I do," he said, leaning in closer to her. "You told me.”

“I…I am Sellyn Drake,” she blurted out.

She had never outright admitted it to another person. 

Ressina had been the one who had send off her first manuscript to be published…and Orla had met with her…these were the two people in existence that knew that Skylar Alden was also Sellyn Drake. And Skylar had always been comfortable with keeping it that way. 

There was no need to tell anybody else. 

Which was why it worked so well, that Ressina was an artist and could paint the bookcovers for her. No need whatsoever to let anybody else see the hesitant first drafts until she was sure this was where she wanted to go. Just Ressina. Just one of her very few friends. If not her only. 

Azriel stared at her, his eyes widening in surprise. "What?" he asked, completely taken aback. "You're...Sellyn Drake?" There was no…outright disbelief in his voice, just shock. 

*We know! We made Master read your books!* the shadows cooed. *Lady Death, The Priestess and The Shopkeeper love them too!*

She had no idea who any of these people were but…

Azriel's eyes widened even further as the shadows spoke up. "You...you knew about this?" he asked them, turning towards the shadows in disbelief. "You knew. That’s why you gave me her books to read!”

This was just getting better and better.

Sky, who had been watching Azriel and the shadows’ exchange with a mixture of nervousness and embarrassment, couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. 

“Do…Do they always…” she couldn’t even put it into words. 

Azriel sighed. “They like to meddle,” he said darkly. “And this time they were particularly persistent.” He shot a reproachful look at the shadows, who cowered a little under his gaze. "I won't lie, they did manipulate me into reading your books. And when my shadows do something they are rather...convincing."

She swallowed. 

“Did…did you…li…like them at…at least?” Sky asked hesitantly. 

Azriel hesitated for a moment before answering. 

"I...I did," he admitted earnestly. "Your writing...it's brilliant, Sky.” Her heart soared at his words. She treasured them, hoarding them away like a dragon. But he wasn’t done. “The characters, the emotions, the way you make the reader feel everything...it's incredible. I couldn't put them down."

Sky grinned at his words, feeling a swell of pride in her chest. "I…I'm glad you..you li…liked them," she said softly.

*Master especially liked the…*

“Shut. Up.” Azriel snapped, his ears reddening and Sky started laughing. She could just about imagine what the shadows wanted to tell her at that moment. 

Azriel groaned, burying his face in his hands. "I'm going to kill them," he muttered under his breath.

"They…they are ju…just try…trying to help you, aren't they?" she asked softly, squeezing his hand in hers. Only now she noticed the violent scars that marred them, the texture of raised and bumpy skin…but she didn’t care. Not one bit.  

*Of course, we are,* the shadows said, like any other idea was simply blasphemous. *We gave Master the best information we could. So that Master would know what you like.*

Sky probably shouldn't find it as adorable as she did. But the lengths they had gone to...the way they had made Azriel read her books so that he would know what she liked...nobody in her life had ever gone to these lengths just to find out what she liked.

"I swear I am not a total creep," Azriel told her with a grimace.

Sky laughed, shaking her head in disbelief. "No…no, no, you're not," she assured him, squeezing his, hands gently. "I…I ac…actually think it's… quite… sweet. In a weird, sli…slightly invasive kind of way. But sweet nonetheless."

"I think you are the only female that could possible think that," Azriel muttered, glaring at the shadows that didn't seem apologetic in the slightest.

Sky grinned, leaning in closer to him. "It’s… endearing,” she finally settled on. “Maybe even a lit…little bit charming," she promised him earnestly.

Azriel looked at her incredulously, his expression softening a little. "You're not just saying that to make me feel better, are you?" he asked her.

Sky shook her head. "No. No, I'm not," she said, her voice unwavering. "I…I mean it, Azriel. It iss actually really sweet that you would go to… such lengths just to try to un…understand me better. And you ad…admitted to it. And not just after the mating bond was accepted but within hours of meeting me." 

Azriel didn't keep it a secret, even when he could have, and she would have been none the wiser. 

"I don't know what I ever did to deserve you. But I'm not going to question it," he whispered. 

She swallowed. That's what she was thinking. The exact same words. 

Sky pulled him down, letting his forehead rest against hers.

"I know that...that I am supposed to cook you something...but how disappointed would you be if I gave you one of those caramel bonbons in my purse to accept the bond instead?" she asked him softly, meeting his gaze. 

His eyes widened and he stared at her in pure, undiluted wonder. 

"I could not possible be dissappointed by whatever you offered me," Azriel whispered. "But...are you...are you sure?"

"I am being utterly selfish," she whispered. "Yes. I want you." She didn't care that people would have thoughts about it...that she was rushing into this. 

They were probably right. 

But Sky really didn't care. Sky only wanted him. Sky was ready to throw caution overboard and rush into this headfirst without a thought about the consequences, if that meant that she would get her mate.

"Then let's be selfish together," Azriel whispered.

With shaky hands she reached into her purse, finding one of the caramel bonbon she kept in there...unwrapped it out of the paper and then...then she offered it to him, lifting it to his lips.

Azriel looked at the bonbon, then at her, and for a moment she thought he would say something. But then his mouth opened and he took it from her hand... He chewed it, swallowing carefully, his gaze never wavering from hers. For a moment, they stayed suspended in that moment of tension, the only sound their breathing. And then, he leaned in, closing the distance between them, and kissed her as if she was the most precious thing in his entire world.

A Mating Frenzy had always been protrayed as animalistic in every book she read. So of course, Sky had written the exact same thing.

But it wasn't...not really.

Not for them. 

And being with Azriel was also a far cry from being with Admon...mostly because then it had often been...embarrassing and painful. 

Admon had always found something to criticise on her body...foreplay had been nonexistent, even when she had tried...and while he had been more than willing to use her mouth to find his own pleasure he had never returned that favour.

With Azriel it was different. Every touch, every caress, every kiss made her feel things she had never felt before. It was like her body was coming alive for the first time.

All her senses were heightened, every nerve in her body singing with pleasure, and Sky couldn't get enough of him. She wanted more. No, she needed more. As Azriel trailed kisses down her throat, she arched her back, pressing herself against him, her hands roaming over his body, exploring every inch of him that she could reach.

"Can I...Can I touch your wings?" she asked breathlessly, not wanting to...cross some unsaid line.

"Please," Azriel breathed out. "Yes, Sky, please." He lifted his wings, extending them out behind him, giving her free rein to touch and explore to her heart's content. As Sky's fingers brushed against the contours of his wings, Azriel let out a low, guttural moan, his wings twitching and shuddering at the sensation. They were massive and pitch black.

"They are beautiful," she whispered, running her hands over the silky black skin, feeling the warmth radiating from them.

He shuddered at her touch, his wings arching and trembling beneath her gentle caress. he leaned his forehead against hers as he gently tipped her back against the bed and she went willingly, wrapping her hands over the gleaming talons at the tip of his wings as she kissed him.

Azriel growled softly in response, his hands sliding up beneath her dress, opening the lacing in one fluid motion. As the dress fell open, revealing her body beneath, Azriel pulled back for a moment, looking down at her with dark, hungry eyes. "You are so beautiful," he breathed, his gaze roaming over her body.

She didn't even have the time to feel self-conscious, not when she was drowning in the waves of desire that shot across their bond from him. Not when her whole body seemingly trembled against his and she kissed him again, opening her mouth to his tongue.

He slipped open the dress and she opened her mouth, halfway ready to tell him how he could get the corset she wore off, but he already opened the lacing. "Why?" he asked her softly, as he saw the red indents left on her body, and she grimaced.

"Claire," she whispered.

She wore corsets usually for support, because her breast could get heavy and painful without the proper support...but she never laced them as tightly as she did when she saw her family. Or her sister. Then she pulled them tight, trying to squash her body to be something…something her family could stomach, something they maybe wouldn't comment on...she always failed.

Azriel hissed softly, his fingers lightly tracing the red marks on her skin. She knew that they looked horrible, and yet he looked...angered? Almost furious. His expression softened as he looked back into her eyes, his fingers gently tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. "Why would you do something like that to yourself, Sky?" he murmured, his eyes searching hers. "You are beautiful. You don't need to change anything about your body." He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to a particularly hard imprint the corset had left.

Sky swallowed hard, feeling a lump form in her throat as emotion welled up in her chest. No one had ever said something like that to her, had ever made her feel like she was good enough just the way she was. She opened her mouth, trying to speak, but no words came out. Instead, she just nodded, feeling a single tear slip down her cheek. Azriel wiped it away with his thumb, his other hand coming up to cup her face tenderly.

"You are perfect," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Just the way you are. Don't ever let anyone make you feel otherwise. Not even your family." Sky leaned into his touch, closing her eyes and just focusing on the closeness, the warmth, the feeling of being cherished and protected.

With every word he spoke, she felt a weight lifting off her shoulders, her fears and insecurities melting away. She realized that maybe, just maybe, she had found someone who truly saw her, the real her. Who accepted her exactly as she was, flaws and all.

It was so easy to sink into that. So easy to trust him. So easy to just kiss him, as she pushed the shirt he wore over his shoulders...to feel acres of gold skin, dotted with scars and dark markings...to bare him for her view and see how utterly gorgeous her mate was.

He growled softy as she ran her hand down his chest, tracing the scars that marked his skin. His body was a tapestry of pain and survival, yet she wasn't deterred. She only found him more beautiful for it.

"Mine," she whispered, pressing her lips to his chest, to one particularly nasty scar. "All mine." She could feel his heart pounding beneath her lips, the steady beat matching the rhythm of her own heartbeat. Her hands trailed down his chest, his stomach, until she reached the waistband of his trousers.

It was so easy.

So easy, to shed clothing until they were bare...so easy to press against him and feel warm, perfect skin...so easy to relax underneath him as he stretched over her...so easy to simply cup his face as she kissed him...as her legs wrapped around his hips and he groaned and she whimpered as she felt him...hot and hard and huge, pressing against her...She was dripping wet without him even laying as single finger on her beneath the waist.

Azriel didn't look unaffected, his breath coming in ragged pants, his eyes fixed on hers as they were blown wide and dark with want. He didn't move, didn't kiss her, didn't pull her closer. He only waited. Waited for her. 

"I need you," she whimpered. "Please. Please, Az." He let out a sound somewhere between a groan and a growl, his hips rocking gently against her, teasing them both with the heat and friction between them.

Nothing hurt. Nothing ever even threatened to hurt...Even as she could feel him notch against her there...even when she could feel herself lewdly stretched open on his cock...

It was so soft and gentle and sweet and…

It was everything Sky had ever wanted. 

Not the rough kind of fucking...not the animalistic coupling she wrote half the time...but she had wanted this. She had wanted sweetness and adoration and...love...and to be wrapped up in her mate's arms like she was a precious, precious thing. She had wanted whispered praised against her skin and to be touched like she mattered...

"Sky," he whispered, his hands running up her side, his touch was soft and soothing, worshipping her body. He kissed her, slowly, deeply, and there was something...almost overwhelming about it.

About the way he made her feel. The way he made her feel loved and adored. The way he made her feel cherished. Her hands wandered up to his back, tracing the muscles shifting beneath scarred, scarred skin.

She could feel him trembling, feel the tension in his body as he held himself back, but still, he moved in slow and gentle thrusts, taking his time. He worshipped her - every little gasp and moan, every curve of her body. He traced her shape with his fingertips and lips, exploring her as though he was trying to memorize every inch of her body.

She didn't know how long they stayed that way, their bodies as one, but Sky didn't care. She was surrounded by him - the heat of his skin, the sound of his breath, the way he whispered her name like a prayer. Sky could feel the love and devotion pouring through the bond, washing over her in waves, and she knew that this was exactly where she was meant to be. With him, in his arms, completely and utterly whole.

It nearly came as a shock as she came.

A breathless moan fell from her lips as her orgasm rushed over her, her body arching as she called out his name. He kissed her through it, murmuring praise against her lips as he held her close, his own release following soon after.

They stayed there for a moment, tangled together, both of them breathless and sated. Azriel's wings slowly wrapped around them, cocooning them in a warm, protective embrace that made Sky feel safe and cherished in a way she had never experienced before.

***

There was not one inch of his mate's body that wasn't utterly beautiful. From the tips of her arched ears, to her beautiful eyes...to the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist and the soft flesh of her belly and the flare of her hips...she smelled so good too...especially now that their scents had started to mix, and he could breath in caramel and hazelnuts and cedars and the sweet, beautiful scent of happiness as she laid underneath him. His head was bedded on her stomach, as she drew short fingernails through his messy dark hair. He nearly wanted to start to purr as she scratched at his scalp.

Azriel felt...content.

More content than he ever remembered feeling. He was wrapped up in her, his mate, with her gentle hands in his hair, and he felt utterly and completely at peace. He didn't care if they never moved from that bed again. He didn't care if the world outside their little cocoon burned. So long as she was by his side, he was content. He had never felt like this before. He had never felt this...happy. This...whole.

"I need to go feed Hector," Sky told him softly, trailing her fingers through his hair.

"Can I just have the shadows kidnap him and bring him here?" he asked, not wanting to move.

"You can't go kidnapping my cat, Az," she chided him gently, but even as she said the words, she didn't stop drawing her fingers through his hair, and Azriel didn't move. He was far too comfortable.

"Why not?" he complained.

"You'll terrify him," she said with a laugh. "Besides, do you have cat food here?"

"I'll have the shadows find some Tuna," he mumbled.

"Do…Do they just ac…acquire whatever you tell them to?" she asked him with some amusement. 

And lots of things he didn't tell them to, as well. They thought he didn’t know. 

Azriel raised himself on his forearms, looking down at Sky with a glint in his eye. "You have no idea how many things I've acquired that way," he told her with a grin.

She lifted her hands, cupping his cheeks and pulling him down towards her, resting her forehead against his. "You're a menace," she murmured against his lips.

"Your menace," he replied, kissing her softly.

Sky smiled, a warm, slow curve of her lips that made his chest feel tight. "Mine," she agreed, her voice soft. "But no kidnap…kidnapping my cat. He's at home."

"We could make this our home," he protested softly. "Move in with me."

Azriel had no fucking clue what was even coming over him. They should have slowed down, stopped to think...but neither of them seemed to want to.

They just…they seemed utterly content to crash through what other people considered a normal timeline and just be together right now. 

He just wanted to be near her. He wanted to share a life with her, a home. He wanted to curl up with her in front of the fire on a cold winter's night, and spend lazy Sunday mornings in bed with her. He wanted to take her flying, and watch as she wrote and listened to her read the words she wrote. 

And he wanted - Gods, he wanted her to want that too. He held his breath as he waited for her response.

For a moment, she was silent, and Azriel wondered if he had stepped too far, asked too much too soon. 

But then, Sky smiled again, her eyes sparkling with emotions. 

"...Al…Alright," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll…I’ll move in with you." 

Azriel couldn't help but grin as he pressed his forehead to hers. "Really? You mean it?" he asked, still unable to believe his ears.

"Really," she echoed with a laugh, before her expression turned serious. "But I…I have one co…condition." 

Azriel raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. "What is it?"

"If I move in with you..." she began, wrapping her arms around his neck. "All my books need to come to," she told him seriously.

Azriel laughed, leaning back in to kiss her softly. "All your books can come, if that's what you want," he said. "As long as you're here, I don't care what else you bring."

And then the shadows unceremoniously dumped a screeching demon on the bed with them.

Sky let out a surprised yelp as Hector landed next to them with a thud, quickly scrambling away from the cat - and from under Azriel's weight. Azriel, for his part, sprang up, his wings flaring out in alarm. For several long moments, the three of them just stared at each other. Hector, his mismatched eyes glowing, his fur puffed up to twice it’s normal size, and Sky, her expression a mixture of surprise and affection as she looked at her pet. Finally, she cleared her throat. "Well, that's one way to introduce the two of you. Az, meet Hector."

...Gods, the shadows had really not been lying when they said that the cat was the ugliest thing they had ever seen.

Azriel slowly lowered his wings, eyeing the creature that was half-cat and half-demon. "He...looks like he wants to kill me," he said slowly.

Sky laughed, reaching out to scratch Hector's head. "He's just grumpy because he got teleported here so suddenly," she told him. "And he's not used to strangers." Hector's fur slowly flattened, and he began to purr, rubbing his head against Sky's hand. "Besides, he'd never hurt anyone," she added, looking up at Azriel with a smile.

Somehow Azriel highly doubted that.

Sky picked Hector up, cradling the cat in her arms as his purring grew louder. "See? He's not so bad," she told Azriel, moving towards him, and Azriel had to resist the urge to back away. "Hold out your hand, let him sniff you. He just needs to get used to you."

Azriel hesitantly held out his hand, trying his best to ignore the way Hector's eyes seemed to glow with an eerie light. After a moment, Hector moved forward, sniffing at Azriel's hand. Azriel felt the soft brush of whiskers against the palm of his hand, and Hector nudged his head against him, purring louder.

"See, he loves you!" Sky said enthusiastically

Azriel let out a laugh, slowly scratching the top of Hector's head. "I think he's just trying to lull me into a false sense of security before he scratches my eyes out, you know."

She rolled her eyes, "You are the most handsome cat I know," she cooed at him. "And you won't ever scratch out Azriel's eyes. No, you won't.”

Azriel would not quite go as far as describe the cat as handsome...but then...his own scarred hands weren't particularly beautiful either.

So Hector and him had that in common.

And the fact that they both wanted to cuddle with Sky. Actually, he was pretty sure that the cat hated him just for taking away his monopoly on that.

But Azriel would have shared a house with the King of Hybern if that meant that he got to have Sky in his bed.

She smiled at him, her eyes warm and adoring. "I knew you two would hit it off," she said, holding Hector in the crook of her arm. The cat stared at Azriel for a moment, as if sizing him up, before leaping off Sky's lap and disappearing under the bed with a soft patter of paws. "He'll warm up to you eventually," Sky assured him, but Azriel wasn't so sure about that.

He pulled Sky in closer to him, slipping back underneath the sheets with her, kissing her forehead. "I'll win him over, eventually," he promised her. At least, he hoped he would - he didn't particularly enjoy the idea of having to wake up with his throat being sliced open by an angry cat.

He would buy that damn cat all the Tuna in the world if that made Sky happy.

[luvlystarr]

·········♡········· Prompt: The moment the 141 guys realized they're in love with you. Content: Fluff! (This was all rushed so don't expect it to be the best lol) ························

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick - In all honesty, Kyle has probably been interested since the day you two met. But when he decided to bring you along to his cousin’s birthday party, that's when it fully clicked in his mind. At first he just thought it would be a good idea to get you introduced to his family, you were his close friend after all. It just so happened that his nieces and nephews were there and as soon as they met you they were instantly hooked. Kyle never knew you were so good with kids and just people in general. His nieces and nephews kept playing with you, while his other relatives genuinely enjoyed chatting with you. The exact moment he realized he loves you was when one of his nieces asked you, “Do you like Uncle Kyle?” To which you responded, “Yeah, he’s a very special person to me. I like him a lot.” Of course you had to say those words with that warm, kind smile of yours, it got Kyle melting on the spot. Unbeknownst to you, he heard every single word and has been absolutely lovestruck since then.

John 'Soap' MacTavish - It was quite an odd moment. The moment he knew was when you two were up late at night watching every single Harry Potter movie out there. At some point, about halfway through the third movie, you just started rambling about the characters and story of the whole franchise, even covering little details about the books. Johnny didn’t even know why or how his mind began to think that way, but he just found it so attractive. Even to this day he doesn’t understand why you geeking out about the Harry Potter franchise was so captivating. Maybe it was the way you looked so focused, or how the tv was illuminating your features perfectly, probably your angelic voice too. Either way, he can’t stop thinking about you and he uses every chance he gets to get you talking about any of your interests.   

John Price - He would probably never admit this but the moment he knew he’s in love was when the two of you were fighting. Both of you had a tiny disagreement on something but it ended up growing into a heated argument. For almost half an hour straight, you two just kept going back and forth, gradually raising each other’s voice and becoming more irritated. By the end it got so bad that you slammed your hands on the table and got snappy at John, yelling strings of insults at him. He should be just as angry, but no. In that moment he could’ve sworn his heart skipped a beat. How could he get mad if you looked so cute with your pouty lips, furrowed eyebrows and crossed arms? He mistakenly let out a small chuckle at your attempt to be intimidating but he was met with a slap on his face. At that moment he knew that the only reasonable explanation why he felt that way was because he was head over heels.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley - You were the first person he actually got close with. Sure, he has Johnny and he's an amazing friend, but the bond he had with you was unlike any other. The two of you found solace in one another and always had each other's back. The night he knew it was true love was when you drove all the way to his house after a terrible day. You were sobbing endlessly as you rambled on and on about how crappy your boss is as he intently listened, even rubbing your back while handing you a cup of tea. After comforting you, he insisted that you stay for the night. He let you wear one of his hoodies and even let you sleep in his bed. You were hesitant at first but quickly gave in with how insisting he is. He remembered watching you sleep peacefully, all huddled up beneath the blanket. He had to admit, you looked adorable wearing his hoodie with that calm look on your face. That's when it dawned on him just how much he loves you. ········································································

[multipleoccupancy]

"You couldn't have," he acknowledged for her wanting to tell him the truth in the ward, he would never have believed her and wouldn't have comprehended it in the first place. At least now he knew albeit so many years later. "I know," he tried to reassure her, just that he understood why she had not given her real name and why it was she had lied to him. "It's ok," he attempted as reassurance again.

"I don't think it was possible to not be in trouble there." He commented but yes, yes they had been in far more trouble than they had ever needed to be if they had just sat down and drew pictures all day. "I'm sorry you saw that." Truly, he would have never thought she would end up there, that it was impossible for her to be there. "That you wound up being sent there," fresh tears formed in his eyes and his breath caught in his throat. "I had hoped you were in a different timeline, that somehow it was better."

Remembering what he had been through only made him worry for Violet more. He knew she had been beaten, shocked, sedated and restrained. He hoped that the patients had stayed away from her and that the orderlies didn't take a particular interest in tormenting her. "How's your arm? And your side? Your mom said there's more bruising but is that from the office incident?"

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

"I'm sorry," she whispered, "I'm sorry I had to lie to you. I wish I could have told you the truth but..." He would have never believed her then! Still, she felt so terribly sad that he had felt such guilt for leaving her behind in the ward. In truth, Violet had feared for a moment that the Horned One was going to leave her there, in the ward. He was not above doing something so wicked. But she kept that fear to herself. In the end, He had brought her back home.

"I couldn't tell you that I didn't belong there, that my name wasn't even Mauve..."

She hugged her dad back. The painkillers were wearing off, and her arm was starting to ache, but she paid it no mind. New tears welled up in her eyes. She had hoped that she could have been there for her dad, when he was all alone in the ward. As it turned out, she had been there for him. What an incredible turn of events.

"I'm really happy I helped you a little bit," she croaked with a teary smile. It was all she wanted. "Even if I got you in a lot of trouble, too." A sniffling chuckle left her lips at that last comment.

[buzzinrusso]

Please Don't leave pt.2

(Light at the end of the tunnel)

Summary: where ingrid and mapi try to mend the forces , leading alexia to explain herself to you.

Contains: angst ,fluff ,polyamory and a little suggestive at the end

Word count : 1.3k

Part 1 / part 2 / part 3

The next few days were a whirlwind of emotions .

You cried about it. You sobbed and cried, but eventually accepted the fact that you weren't enough for them .

Your manager was contacting multiple teams for your "loan" that you were hoping to turn into a full transfer. The teams interested were Manchester City ,Arsenal , Real Madrid, and Chelsea , along with a few other European teams .

Today , you had a meeting with the team manager to actually talk about if you really wanted to transfer.

Your plans were deranged when a fan account posted about your possible transfer from Barcelona to Manchester .

Word got around quickly, and surely enough,your teammate started flooding your messages ,questions you throughly in the team group chat.

You decided to just ignore them and talk it over at practice.

So , you got up ,went into the shower whilenoncall with your best friend from back home ,telling her about your situation.

This led to her talking and intense amount of shit about the girls and telling you that she was there for you.

A few hours later

You arrived at practice with the intention to ignore everyone .

You parked your car at your designated parking spot and went to the trunk of your car to get your bag .

When you walked into the training ground ,you were greeted by the media woman asking you what your phone wallpaper was ,you quickly showed it to her ,telling her that I was a picture of you and your bestfried ,alya,from back home after your graduation.

You sighed and then continued your way to practice ,making sure that it was a normal ,civil, and calm day ,avoiding anyone and everyone who tried to mention that rumours about your transfer .

Until patri came up to you in the middle of practice and started interrogating you about the post , which led pina to start questioning you too while the while team listened in ,especially two girls who were hoping that the rumours were not true.

"For the last time, Claudia, I'm not telling you anything right now ." You rolled your eyes at the girl for what felt like the 100th time today and walked away .

You marched into the locker room with full intention of packing your bag and rescheduling your meeting until a certain blonde walked in with an unrecognisable look on her face.

"Why are you leaving ?" The captain asks .

"None of your business, alexia." You snapped at her .

"I know something is wrong." You went quiet ."You can talk to me, nena."

You let out a loud scoff ," I clearly can't," you said while rolling your eyes at the captain as you got up to storm away .

"Come o-" you immediately cut her off with a yell ."Just stop ,alexia! I heard what you said at the team bonding night ,so you can stop pretending and say what you have to say to my face instead of talking ahit behind my back!" You borderline yelled at your captain and stormed out of the room with your training bag in hand.

Later that evening, a knock sounded at your door ,you swung the door open with annoyance painted on your face only to be met with the only two people you didn't want to talk to at all.

You rolled your eyes at them before trying to close the door only to be stopped by the one and only ingrid engen who shoved her foot between them and the door.

"We need to talk." Maria said as she walked into your apartment. "Please don't leave ,cari"

"Oh ,I think we're done talking." You exclaimed."I think the way you laughed at me when alexia was joking was enough talk for me."

"Wait ,wha-"

"You can save it .you know, I actually thought that you guys liked me . It was so obvious that I had the biggest crush on you guys ,and you were always - what I thought was - flirting with me .and I really liked you guys up until I heard you guys laughing at some cruel joke about me." Tears were starting to prick up in your eyes as they stinger them, but you kept calm and carried the weight of the rift.

Mapi eventually stopped your rant ."Look,cari, what you walked in on was not what you think it was . It's actually a really fucked up miscommunication about a really embarrassing conversation. We were talking about football .we were talking about the double tackle we did on Monday, and it turned into sex talk about tops and bottoms, and alexia was claiming that ..."

"Claiming what?"

"She was claiming that we would top you..." ingrid said in a hushed whishper as embarrassment flooded her body.

A moment of silence passes .it was a minute ,then two ,and then your laughter filled the air .

You were full on crying of laughter as mapi and ingrid just stared at you in confusion .

"What the fuck" you said in between breaths while still wheezing from laughter ."God, this is so ridiculous. "

"Are you still going to leave Barcelona?" Mapi asked.

"Ugh,I don't know .I've been in contact with a few teams, but I can pull out of it anytime before next week.".

"Can we get you not to leave?" Ingrid questioned

"I would take a lot of stuff for me not to go." You said truthfully .

"Stuff like this..?" You looked at the raven haired girl confused until she pulled you in and planted her lips on yours .

The kiss was electric , passionate, and perfect. Her soft lips moved against yours in the most glamorous way ever ,like you guys were meant to be.

It's only when you hear mapi whine that you moved back away from ingrid and then pulled into another kiss from Maria.

Her lips were like candy on yours as you easily melted into a rhythm with her .She moved her lips just right and snuck her tongue into your mouth while pulling you over her lap .

You pulled away for a breath of air but then got quickly pulled back in as ingrid started gently kissing your neck.

------------------------------------------------------

Sorry that this one is a bit of a short one ! Next chapter will be about 5k words of just fluff and smut ;)

Tags :@marvelwomen-simp , @iamagoddess1

[kinardsevan]

i wrote a whole ass psychology breakdown (for the first time in FOREVER) about the break-up. enjoy (if you so choose):

so I've been reading a lot in relation to Tommy's speech during the break-up (and have actually gotten through the scene several times now, mostly as a creative reference for these fix-it fics. I think one of the first things that I've seen completely tossed aside (that bothers the shit out of me as someone with over a decade of therapy treatment and a psychology degree) is whatever trauma Tommy carries.

We know that there are issues with his dad. We know Lou's lore behind him is that he spent a lot of his childhood alone. We don't know anything in relation to his mom, but she may or may not be the cause of more trauma. We know that his way of dealing with abuse of authority is to shut down and follow the leader, which is likely a mix of his military time and growing up in his father's household (and when I say this, I mean from what we saw of him under Gerrard's command). This is a person who has put years into getting himself into some version of okay after all that he's endured, and we know he still generally does it on his own.

To that end, here, have my breakdown of the break up (roughly right about the time Buck says "I want you to move in with me"). (with pictures!)

Prior to the offer, we watch Tommy process through Evan's explanation about his relationship with Abby, things being transformative for him, etc. We have to bare in mind that this is where we also start to get what I've dubbed "starry-eyed Buck". He's so in the throes of what he's saying that I don't think he's really considering the connotation of his words. At the same time, Tommy doesn't know what lore Evan is about to drop him about this prior relationship. Remember that he now has to contend with the fact that they both have strong opinions on their relations toward Abby, and Tommy can't know if their feelings toward her as a person will be the same. I think Lou played this beautifully, appearing anxious and apprehensive as Tommy listened to Evan explain that Abby was transformative for him. Then he shifts into how Tommy has been transformative for him (which, he has, and we as the audience know this, but we understand it from a bigger POV than what Evan is saying with his words.)

There have been posts about Evan putting Tommy up on a pedestal throughout this speech (and really, possibly even sooner, but this is where we really get it expressed). Tommy tries to rectify this to a degree by countering "I wasn't always that way".

To that end, we then get Evan telling him "I know, and it just makes me admire you more." Tommy gives a bashful smile, clearly heartened by the statement, and even opening his mouth as though he's going to respond to it in some form. It would be interesting to know what was on Lou's mind of what (if anything) he thought would've been said there. Are there lines that were removed in this scene? Was 'I love you' actually going to come up? We can't really know. However, there's this part of me that thinks that Tommy thought that they were having a discussion on the depth of their relationship which would've possibly brought those 7 letters to the equation. Either way, this entire bit of facial acting is SO important, because it speaks volumes about how Tommy feels about how Evan feels about him.

From there we get the "I want you to move in with me, and this, THIS, THIS is such an important point for this ENTIRE scene. It's two seconds, but it holds SO much for the narrative. This man, who seems to be on the verge of ...something, clearly (who knows if I Love You was on his mind, or if it was just the fact that Evan was expressing how much he cares about him.) The reason this is all so important is THIS REACTION:

Now again, we don't know Tommy's trauma, but the joy literally drops out of his expression and shifts to panic. Now, speaking solely from the standpoint that these two haven't even said "I love you" yet, his boyfriend steamrolled over him from a possible declaration of love straight to moving in together without discussing semantics. Further, it's not even "I want to live together", it's "move in with me". We don't know much about Tommy's house (because these shitheads haven't built him a set yet), but we know that he has a HOUSE. With a GARAGE. Buck lives in a LOFT. Regardless of how much of an asshole this makes me sound like, it's crawling with red flags. It comes across as "fit more into my life" instead of "lets do this thing together". Further, if that's not bad enough, mention of getting engaged and married is thrown at Tommy as well, which holds two major bits of information: One, these are on Evan's mind. We've NEVER heard him talk about getting engaged or married to anyone. This speaks to the importance of their relationship to him, but the lack of I Love You also speaks on his own trauma. If we truly are getting the rom-com trope, at some point there's likely to be a conversation about why he lept over it (*cough* Taylor, his parents *cough cough*). Meanwhile, as he's continued in his starry-eyed speech, this is what Tommy is giving:

Now for those who don't know how to spot it, this my friends is a PANIC RESPONSE. The shift forward, the move to get up, the literal deep breath. He's having a panic attack. Now, obviously we don't know what brought this on, but god-willing, we WILL get the answers.

Now, to his own point, Tommy doesn't just straight up pop Evan's pink bubble. He does express that it's a sweet sentiment, but that it's a bad idea. To which point we get:

"Evan, that is so sweet. But I can't move in with you." "And why not?" Because. I know how this ends." "Uh, what-what's that supposed to mean?"

At which point, we clearly get the qualities about Evan that Tommy likes. "Incredible guy. Big-hearted. Hot as hell. Impulsive." I don't feel that the expression here matters as much as his tone of voice, because we can see on his face that he's expressing these qualities from a good place. The next point of reference isn't until Tommy's next line, when he says that Evan's reaction is out of things being "new and exciting".

To that end, the way Evan is talking to him makes this statement valid. He's not talking to Tommy like they've been together for six months and have built a relationship that should be moving in this direction. (For the tenth time I will repeat, he couldn't even dignify whether he was in love with Tommy when Josh asked).

Furthermore, I think when you consider this part of the scene, you also have to consider the strain in Tommy's voice. Something about those concepts (living together, getting engaged, married) is terrifying. It definitely gives the impression that Tommy has been faced with some version of this before and he got burned. Why is this important? Because of this:

"I'm saying no matter how bad I want it to be, I'm not your last." Those 9 words are important on their own, but when you couple them with the expression on Tommy's face and what we've just seen him go through, there's a clear point to the fact that he's been through this before. I also think that there can't be enough importance placed on the way he intonates "how bad". This is not a man saying no because he doesn't want to. He's backpedaling because he's sure that he's going to get burned. We get this point further driven home with this exchange:

"I'm your first." "But hey, they can be the same thing." "But, they usually aren't."

See this doesn't read to me as someone who's scared because he knows Evan has never been with another man. They're both fully grown adults who have had multiple relationships. What this speaks to me (now) as, is someone who has let someone convince him before that he would be their forever, that they were all in, and then broke him. When you include his childhood trauma and whatever abandonment issues it's left him with in correlation with all of this, yes, it's still an extremely biphobic set of lines. But in the context of what he's expressing and why, it's not about telling Evan he needs more experience, it's about telling him that he doesn't believe that he'll want to stay settled down with him six months, a year, etc., down the road. And THAT my friends, is abandonment issues 101. "Everyone else has left, so it doesn't matter that I'm in love with you, because you will leave too, and I need to protect myself from that."

Following that, we get this: "if I were to move in with you, you wouldn't mean to, you wouldn't plan for it, but you'd end up breaking my heart."

This line is SO important, right next to Evan's exchange with Josh about his relationship with Tommy. Why? Because even though neither of them have said it, it spells out that these two are in fact in love with each other, even if they haven't said it.

"I don't think I could deal with that." Tommy is fucking GONE on him. He's expressing that if he gave himself fully over to what Evan's referring to, losing him would break him. Again, we don't have the full picture on his trauma, but we know there's a mountain there. It's also worth noting again, that the intonation he uses in these statements clearly come across as someone trying to reign in their emotions and keep it together. That says to me that we're dangeously close to touching his trauma.

I don't feel like I have to include the final few bits of the scene in gifs because they're all over the site now, but the next line gives over the fact that he hasn't really been open about his trauma to Evan, given that his immediate response to expressing all of this is "I should go". This kind of reaction is generally brought on as not being accepted for having certain feelings. Now, obviously Evan is caught off guard by the entire interaction, the same way Tommy was (but for different reasons), so we have to take all of that into account when we think about the fact that instead of countering Tommy's logic, he asks instead if Tommy is breaking up with him.

Body language is also so important here for Tommy. His shoulders are hunched in, we see him wipe his face (meaning there are likely tears), and when he turns around, he's so caught up in whatever wave has taken him over that it takes Evan asking him for Tommy to state "yeah, I guess I did" about breaking up. Further, there's the fact that he states that he didn't see the break-up coming, which goes back to my point at the top of this post, that he clearly thought the conversation was going one direction, and instead it goes the other. From this point, we have Evan reeling, because he wants to create more of a life with Tommy, while Tommy is shutting down because of whatever is holding him back.

Finally, as I've referenced before, we get this line:

"Should've known that parking spot was too good to be true."

That line makes zero sense out of context, but in consideration of someone trying to lighten the weight they're carrying (which you can literally see by the way he has his hand on his neck, which you generally only see people do as a stress response). You can also double entendre this statement that getting to be with Evan was too good to be true. We get that little inhale with the smile, and I swear to God the only time I've seen that kind of reaction is right before someone cracks.

And then in closing, we get the "I'll see you 'round, Buck," our closing gut punch. Evan is still reeling, clearly. His face is very "what the hell just happened". Tommy is clearly not okay. This entire scene has opened an entire can of worms on them without a whole lot of answers.

Now, I've owned the fact that basically from the end of 806, I felt like this had to be a swerve, and that there has to be more to the story. I've also pretty much owned the fact that if the writers did actually just do this for kicks and don't have a resolution for it, I may not keep watching. However, in the context of the fact that, for the moment, I'm choosing to put hope in some kind of resolution, these lines make so much more sense. It is worth noting though, most people in the fandom, let alone the general audience, aren't going to psychologically break this shit down line-by-line. They're not going to lean into whatever trauma Tommy has that we don't know about yet. Its why the internet has been a mess since Thursday night. But it's also why I talk about how, when this situation gets resolved (because right now I refuse to say if), Buck has to give up the loft and give more of himself. Tommy, by the nature of the show, has fully immersed himself in Evan's life, but we haven't seen or heard mention of Evan doing so at all in Tommy's life. That doesn't mean he hasn't, but we haven't gotten any version of that. So when I say Evan needs to give things up... it's about matching what he's asking Tommy to give up. Because at the end of the day, when this circles back around, he's effectively going to be asking Tommy to trust that he won't break his heart like others have, and when you have a lifetime of abandonment issues and have learned to cope by being hyper-independent and alone, moving in the opposite direction is more terrifying than anything else. ESPECIALLY when you love that person, which we saw Tommy spell out. Evan has the ability to break him (and probably already is via this cut-off-at-the-quick break up.)

So, I'm really gonna need these shit heads to figure out that they'll be more miserable apart than they'd ever be together.

That's all. Thanks for coming to my TED talk.

[circuitfurscaleandvine]

🦉"Why would I want a plant to force drugs on me?". There's an intuition gap between abled and disabled, and it's relevant to HDG.

Sometimes, you're in so much pain that you /can't/ figure out what you need.

Sometimes, you're so fuzzy you can't reason out why the drug will help you.

Sometimes, you're so suspicious that the drugs seem like part of the problem.

Sometimes, your memory is gone and you don't know why you need them, don't remember they exist.

Not everyone can trust their brain to have their best interests in mind. If you're abled, you might not have experienced a moment where you realized "oh, my brain nearly got me killed there". Where you realize you can't always trust your own thoughts, or reasons, or emotions, or memories, or all of the above.

Not everyone can trust their body to support them, either.

Somedays, it won't get up when you need it to.

Somedays, the spoons aren't there to do everything you need.

Somedays, pushing through the 5 extra steps needed to use the restroom just doesn't feel worth it.

Somedays, you go to the event and realize it didn't have people like you in mind.

If you can't see the value of HDG through the lens of Kink, or Transhumanism, or Submission, or Little play... at least see it through the lens of Disability. So many people are already living in a world where they're dependent on caregivers. They're already at the whims of merely human "Affini". From that perspective, is it any surprise they might dream of a world with the best caregivers they can imagine?

"Why would I want a plant to force drugs on me?"

Because someone will. If not now, then 40 years from now, when you're old and can't take those drugs yourself. And when that day comes, wouldn't it be nice if it was an Affini?

[lady-wildflower]

Kia ora, me again.

So I thought I'd add something on.

Two days ago, a march began against the Treaty Principles Bill. Interesting use of the word began, some of you from the rest of the world might think. Well, I don't mean a march down a city street.

I mean a march from Pōtahi Marae, all the way to Parliament. For reference, Pōtahi Marae is only 30km southeast of Cape Reinga, the northernmost point of Aotearoa, and Parliament in Te Whanganui-a-Tara (Wellington) is about as south as you can get in Aotearoa without having to take a ferry or plane to Te Waipounamu (the south island). That's a more than 1000 kilometre route, and yes, some of it will be done by car but large chunks of it won't be.

This march, or hīkoi, follows in the footsteps of the 1975 Māori Land March, another such hīkoi made in response to continuing theft of Māori land by Pākehā who deemed it "unproductive" and passed laws allowing it to be compulsorily turned into public land and used by Pākehā against Māori objections. That march took 29 days. This hīkoi will be nine.

ACT are attempting to declaw and destroy every victory Māori have ever won against the encroach of colonial oppression, and prevent any further victories. They even suddenly brought forward the introduction of the Bill to before the hīkoi and, more importantly, before the Waitangi Tribunal could make their analysis of it. That means the Tribunal, and any official voice that can point out how flagrantly this Bill violates te Tiriti, is being explicitly cut out, they're not allowed to step in on Bills already before Parliament as I understand it.

I'm brain disabled (autism), not in very good shape, and don't already own walking shoes. By all rights I should not even be thinking about going to a march this long. I'm still going. It's going to be a hell of a distressing disruption to my routines to sort out shoes before I go, and breaking in new shoes with a fifteen kilometre walk in the hot sun probably isn't the best idea, but I'm going to join it. The hīkoi passes through Tāmaki Makaurau (Auckland), where I live, tomorrow, and will march across the Harbour Bridge from Onepoto Domain (departing at 10am), splitting into two to go to Takaparawhau (Bastion Point) and Ihumātao. My only lament is that I know that I'm not going to be able to continue with them south. I can't make that journey, and I can only imagine the dedication and strength, mental and physical, of those doing it.

It should not be in any way notable that I'm going. But Pākehā, like me, need to be taking part in these things far more. And it's to other Pākehā in particular I'm talking to when I say that.

We have a duty to support the fight against this Bill, against normalising it even if it fails. All these evils, all these attacks upon Māori, they were done in my name. In our name. They weren't my ancestors, I'm a first generation kiwi, but that doesn't matter. It was done in my name, so that I and every other Pākehā after them could have a miniature England to live in in the Pacific. As (I would like to think) tangata Tiriti, we have a duty to spit on that and say no. No, you do not do that in my name. To stand in kotahitanga with tangata whenua and uphold our Treaty. To any Pākehā who've reblogged my little explanation above after @takataapui reblogged it, get off your keyboard and join the hīkoi if you in any way can. Even if it's just one leg of it.

Not in my name. Toitū te Tiriti.

I know most of tumblr is thinking about the USA right now. but fuck the nz government right now too. tomorrow, the treaty principles bill, the 'worst, most comprehensive breach of Te Tiriti in modern times' is being introduced to parliament early, because there were activations planned country wide and the cowards decided to pull it forwards. fuck this government. a friend of mine had to go home early, crying. I've been in shock all day since it came out.

check on your Māori friends, e hoa mā. see what they need. see how you can help. everyday, we see and experience racism. from people around us, up to our government. community care will save us.

[endless-ineffabilities]

the other side of the door (2/3)

Ewan Mitchell x bestfriend reader

a/n: the way this turned into a 3-parter because I found myself writing an abrupt ending where she just runs off with [redacted]. Oh well. They still have some things to work through. But I would love to hear what yous think about the sweet chaos in this part! <3 — also, that gif up there accurately represents how our Mitchell was acting up in one scene! heh.

main masterlist ▪︎ part one

The one where you try to move on from your best friend.

Ewan leans back against the headboard, having to cool down from one too many drinks, yet Louise's persistent laughter cuts through his calm.

She’s close, so close that he is enveloped in her vanilla scent, commenting at something he said downstairs—he doesn’t remember what, exactly, only that he retreated upstairs for a moment and she’d followed him.

He’s too tipsy to be decisive, his mind too scattered to sort through her words, but she’s clearly interested. Her hand grazes his shoulder as she flirtatiously jokes about how much of a lightweight he is, lingering before sliding up to cup his jaw.

“Hey! I’m not a lightweight,” he finds himself saying, surprised by how animated he still sounds.

“Oh yeah?” Louise becomes more real, more solid as she comes onto him. “So you’re sober enough to come here and kiss me then?”

He blinks, half there, half somewhere else, drifting in and out of the moment. Where are you? Did he leave you with Phia? Then her lips press against his, her fingers threading through his hair. There's something oddly mechanical about his movements. Of course he feels a sense of desire—he is a warm-blooded guy in the end, and when a barely-clothed lass offers herself to him, his body will react.

So he lets it happen and hopes that Louise won't notice his minimal engagement.

He's aware of the rustle of the mattress as they settle back, the sensation of her body on top of him—but it's not what he expected. His mind drifts, and before he knows it, he's thinking of you.

“What about the girl you came with?” Louise asks coyly, her face hovering over the crook of his neck, peppering kisses. 

His eyes flutter open, and in the dim room, he sees a different face in his mind, feels your presence instead of hers. The way your hand feels when it lingers on his arm, the warmth in your eyes when you catch him in an unguarded moment.

His mouth moves before he can properly formulate a response. “What… girl?” He hears himself, and he knows the automatic thing to say next. “Oh, she’s… she’s just my friend.” Because you are, aren’t you?

Then why doesn’t it sound enough? He’s been with a few other girls all throughout your friendship, and he didn’t give them much thought. Because it was never any of those girls with whom he would want to spend entire weekends. He didn’t want to call them right before he went to bed. He didn’t instinctively feel like pulling them close and kissing the crowns of their heads whenever they would be upset. 

He remembers the night on the couch, your head tipped back against the cushions. As Louise kisses him, he thinks of how your lips tasted like peppermint tea. 

And, just like that, his mouth moves, and he murmurs your name. Louder than he thinks.

He blinks himself out of inebriation, feeling a rush of heat. Not from the alcohol, and certainly not from Louise.

But from the fact that he just moaned his best friend's name out loud.

“Wait—what?” Louise pulls back, staring, her brows knitting. Fortunately, she had been so preoccupied with the thought of pleasuring Ewan that she didn’t hear exactly what he said. “Did you just say…?”

“I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I…,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his head, unable to meet her eyes.

But he's not sorry. He just needs to clear his head. And he needs to see you right away. He has to make sure you don't mistake his unusual absence from your side as indifference.

But Louise just shakes her head, scoffing softly. "Are you not into this? We can... try something else...?"

Ewan just looks at her. She's pretty, someone who definitely turns heads as she walks down the street. But does her entire face adorably scrunch like yours does whenever he says something ridiculous? Does she also take her coffee black with oat milk and two sugars, the way you always do? Would she stroke the bridge of his nose to wake him up if he fell asleep on her couch?

Stumbling back into the hallway, Ewan feels an unsettling hollowness. He doesn’t know why he feels so shaken—he has always firmly believed that his friendship with you was just that. Friendship. The best one he will ever have. But now, a nervous urgency pounds in his chest as he stumbles downstairs, scanning the room for you. Instead, he finds Phia in the kitchen, sipping water and looking unimpressed.

He approaches her, trying to gather his words. “Phia, do you know where—”

“She left,” Phia says, barely glancing up, her tone pointed. “Fabien walked her home. She came up to find you, but you were busy.” Her smirk is ice-cold, and it’s clear she doesn’t intend to spare him.

The words hit him hard, shame and dread twisting in his gut. You came looking for him, only to leave with Fabien. He imagines you peering into the guest room to find him and Louise, and he practically feels his heart drop. That thought lands heavier than he expects, and Phia’s words sting as they settle in his mind.

“I… I wasn’t busy…” he says weakly, but Phia raises an eyebrow and scoffs.

“We heard you, Ewan.”

Oh, god. Phia says something more, but her words barely register due to the ringing in his ears. He’s never been put in a position where he could lose you, and if he does…

His fingers shake as he forces a cigarette between his teeth, stalking out on the balcony. The protracted lungfuls he takes in make him feel sick, but not as sick as the thought of you possibly hating him. Guilt overwhelms him, and he doesn’t know why. You’re just his friend. His best friend. He can kiss whoever else he wants, can’t he? But the thought comes back around to mock him, in a way that he doesn’t quite understand.

You’re only the one who knows him better than anyone in his life. You’re only his other half. You’re only the one he…

You’re only the one.

The night air is cool as you walk alongside Fabien, a welcome relief from the chaos of the party. He seems to sense your need for quiet, and you’re grateful for the space he gives you. But his caring nature wins over, and after two blocks, he reaches out in an easy tone.

“Ewan, huh?” he says, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

You shake your head, trying to brush it off with a faint laugh. “It’s nothing, Fabs. Just a stupid crush. He’s my best friend, and I get it. He doesn’t want anything more. I’ll be fine.” The phrases sound heavily punctuated and clearly forced out. The person you truly need to convince is yourself.

Fabien contemplates pressing further—he knows, as does everyone else in your circle, that your bond with Ewan is special. But they’ve openly hinted at it, time and time again, often bringing it up as a lighthearted quip. 

Are you sure you two are not together? Maybe you’ve tried dating in the past?

In response, you or Ewan would dole out the line as if rehearsed, “We’re just friends.”

Fabien decides to take on a new, calculated approach. “You know… maybe what you need is a distraction. A real one. And I know just the thing for you.”

You raise a skeptical eyebrow, smirking. “Oh? And what is this distraction you speak of? Or rather, who?”

“Well, I happen to have met this guy, Mat, during filming in New York,” he says, trying to sound casual but you’re sensing a determined undertone. “Plays professional hockey. He’s in London for some training stuff and could use a local guide. Think of it as a favour to him. And it’d give you something—someone—else to think about.”

“A hockey player? You sure about this, Fabs? Those types are trouble.”

Fabien laughs. “Yeah, maybe. But who knows? It might just be what you need to get you out of this Ewan mess.” Fabs doesn’t tell you, but his aim is also to rile Ewan up, which is precisely the nudge the guy needs to make him realise how much you matter to him. 

So Fabien remains Team Ewan, but he’s not averse to using Mat as the necessary turbo boost to get Ewan across the finish line.

The idea catches you off guard, but something about it appeals to you—a small, flickering spark of excitement in an otherwise bleak evening. Maybe this is just what you need to finally put an end to your era of pining for your best friend. You nod slowly, smiling up at him.

“Alriiight…” You hold a hand up when he immediately beams. “But I’ll need time to think about it!”

The next few days, Ewan is everywhere—texting, calling, ‘accidentally’ showing up at places he knows you’ll be. While it’s not exactly unusual behaviour for your best friend, this time, he’s taking it to a new degree. You would force a smile, acting nonchalant, brushing off his apologies and reassurances with an ease you obviously don’t feel.

“I’m not mad, Ewan,” you say lightly one morning when he stops by your place looking anxious, and a bit hungover. “I don’t care who you hook up with.”

He’s slumped down on your kitchen counter, propped up on his forearms. Perhaps he had nursed that bottle of whiskey a bit too much last night, after you ignored his seven successive attempts at ringing you. He narrows his eyes at you as you stand on the opposite side, like the two of you are in some kind of face-off. In these situations, he would have been able to count on you to be his remedy—your hand sliding up and down his back in that soothing way you always do, having a Paracetamol or three at the ready, pumping him with electrolytes, tucking him under a duvet then pushing his hair away from his face. 

But when he showed up that day, you only greeted him with a snide, “You look terrible, Ewan.” and “Want some coffee?” Just that. Coffee? Like he was some typical house guest. Even the hug you shared was drab, with him firmly wrapping his arms around you while you just stood there, and eventually patted his back twice after a moment. 

“You’re not mad?”

“No.” Another shrug.

“Really? Shit, you can’t even look at me. What are you looking at back there? You talking to the cupboard, love?” His growing frustration does not do wonders for his hangover. 

“Look,” you finally meet his eyes, and place your hand on top of his. “You know how I feel about you, and I… I suppose I’ve accepted it, that you don’t feel the same.” You swallow thickly, your mask of indifference threatening to crack. You convince yourself to press on, and that it'll be okay once you lay it out in the open. Maybe things can go back to normal. 

“But it’s okay—” you say, pausing for his reaction. He leans back slightly, his face falling. “—it’s really okay! We’re best friends, and we always will be. I really do care about you, Ewan, and that’s what matters. But I think I just… I need time.”

“Time?” Ewan’s voice comes out weak when he asks. “For what?”

“To get over you.”

Your words echo, cold and distant. Ewan’s shoulders slump, his expression pained. He tries to say something, but the words fail, and he eventually gives a tight nod, though he looks unsettled.

Yet as the week drags on, he doesn’t give up. On Friday evening, he appears at the coffee shop you frequent whenever you want to get work done, startling you from the email you were typing as he sits on the chair across. 

“Hey, love.” He looks spent, the bags under his eyes deepened from sleepless nights, the hoarseness in his voice a result of the packs of Marlboro he’s been mainlining due to his increased anxiety.

“Hey,” you mutter, eyeing him with concern. All you want to do is reach out and pull him against you, but what good would it do? In your defense, you did not think that some time apart would affect him this intensely. Hadn’t you reassured him that you would still be friends, that you will always be? So why is he acting like he has lost you completely?

“I know you need some space, but… I don’t want us to drift apart,” he says, leaning forward and taking over the small space. “You’re… everything to me. I can’t stand the idea of losing you.”

You swallow, a lump forming in your throat. His sentiment is heartfelt, but it’s still not enough. So you give him a polite smile. “You won’t lose me, Ewan. I’m not going anywhere. Like I said, we’re friends, right? That’s what you wanted.”

He flinches, a flicker of regret crossing his face at the bitter reminder, but he concedes with a sharp nod, his jaw tightening.

Each encounter is the same: he’s pulling out all the stops to get back in your good graces, while you do your best to keep your distance. And each time he leaves, you can feel his disappointment, his frustration growing more palpable, but it doesn’t stop him from seeking you out again and again.

By the time the next week rolls around, you’re tired of the emotional tug-of-war. In an effort to move forward, you casually mention something to him as you have dinner together in your flat, not quite meeting his gaze.

“I actually have a date soon. With Fabien’s friend from New York. Mat. So, if you’re free, maybe you and… you and Louise could join us?” you ask, hoping he doesn’t notice the catch in your voice.

Ewan goes quiet, frozen on the kitchen stool. “A date?” he repeats, his voice a hoarse croak, the colour draining slightly from his face.

You nod, trying to keep your tone friendly. “Yeah. Fabien’s idea. You know him; apparently he thinks I need to meet new people.”

Ewan’s hand clenched around his fork, but he releases it slowly, letting the utensil drop to his plate with a shrill clang. A taut smile forms as he nods. “Sure. Maybe… maybe we can make it a double date.”

You agree, grateful that he doesn’t push back. After he leaves, you feel your phone buzz—a text from Fabien, checking in. You realise you’ll have to call him to set the date up for real, but for the first time, a small thrill of excitement flickers in your chest. Finally something new, something to look forward to, instead of looking to the past for what could have been. 

On the other hand, all Ewan feels after that moment is a sinking sense of dread. 

You give yourself a last once-over in the mirror, checking the outfit you’d carefully chosen and then doubted a dozen times. Casual but cute—at least, that’s what you’d aimed for. After all, it’s just a pub, albeit a bit on the upscale side. But you’re actually going to go out with a famous professional hockey player, so you want to make an impression. 

You have to admit it: you did a little recon on the Mat Barzal. Nothing major, just a peek at his Instagram, a few Google searches to catch up on his NHL stats, and maybe one (okay, ten) YouTube videos. He’s as impressive on the ice as he is off, all speed, poise, and confidence. And, sure, you’d skimmed a few articles too. He seems almost too good to be true: grounded, funny, that little bit of mystery that has you wondering what he’s like in person. 

And soon enough, he is standing right in your hallway, looking even better than the glossy photos online.

He’s taller than you pictured, with that easy, devastating smile that says he is able to feel completely at home anywhere, leaning casually with a certain charm that almost makes you forget the other guy you two are meeting.

There’s a light, playful tension between you as you head down the street, Mat walking close beside you, as if it’s just the most natural thing in the world. You make a mental note not to blurt out any ‘accidentally remembered’ trivia—like how he’s the Islanders’ points leader or that he grew up in Coquitlam. Nope, you’re playing it cool tonight.

You immediately find that he’s chatty, but in the best way. He talks easily, as if he’s known you for years, telling you about his day—something about getting hopelessly lost trying to find a decent cup of coffee and then spending twenty minutes looking for his rental car because apparently all the streets in that area of London look exactly the same. You’re laughing before you even realise it, and it’s nice, especially because he doesn’t ask for more than you want to share.

At one point, you catch him glancing down at you as you talk, a slight, interested tilt to his head.

“What?” you ask, feeling the warmth of his gaze lingering.

He shrugs, his eyes holding a mischievous spark. “Just wondering why Fabien didn’t introduce us sooner. Seems like kind of a waste, don’t you think?”

You roll your eyes, nudging him playfully as you walk. So you’re at that point of the date, huh? “Maybe he didn’t introduce us because you live all the way out in New York.”

“Ah, well, maybe I can drag you back home with me, then.” He grins impishly, then gestures ahead as the pub comes into view, cozy lights glowing just beyond the doorway.

Mat glances down at you, offering his arm with a little flourish.

“Shall we?”

You hook your arm through his, feeling a spark of excitement as you step through the door together, into the welcoming glow and noise of the pub.

Ewan stares at his phone, rereading the draft of his message to Louise for what must be the tenth time. Every word feels off, and a bit pathetic if he’s honest. He knows Louise will say yes, but right now, that’s almost worse. He doesn’t know why he even agreed to this double date, just that he needs to be there, to see you, to… what? Compete with Mat Barzal?

It still stings, how easily you’d brought up this date. A guy like Mat, an NHL star who has half of New York swooning after every game? Ewan tries to shake it off, the words on his screen blurring together. He shouldn’t feel jealous—this is bloody ridiculous. But if the only way he can be there tonight is by bringing someone else along, he’s going to do it. Even if it means swallowing whatever pride he has left.

Taking a deep breath, he hits send: Hey, Louise, would you be up for drinks later? Thought it’d be fun to go out with you and some friends… He cringes at how formal it sounds, but it’s too late now. The message is out there.

It barely takes a full minute for Louise’s reply to come in, her enthusiasm palpable through the screen: YES! Totally! Can’t wait to see you. Let me know when to meet :) 

Ewan feels both relief and dread. Louise seems to have brushed off whatever weird vibe he’d given her at the party, chalking it up to the drinks or his own brand of awkwardness. He wishes he could just stay home tonight and pretend this wasn’t happening. But he wants to be there, if only to make sure… to make sure of what, exactly? To watch as you fall for some impossibly confident athlete, a guy who’s good-looking, successful, and probably charming as hell?

He takes a long breath and scrubs a hand over his face. It doesn’t matter what happens. He’ll be there as your best friend. Or whatever version of that role he’s reduced to tonight.

Later, Ewan’s leaning against the side of the pub, hands shoved deep in his pockets, his gaze fixed somewhere in the distance when Louise arrives. She’s dressed casually but clearly put effort into her look—hair styled in soft waves, her smile wide and warm as she spots him from across the street. He tries to muster a similar smile but feels it fall short.

“Hey!” she calls as she nears, giving him a playful bump on the arm. “Ready for tonight?”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ewan laughs awkwardly as he pushes himself off the wall. “Didn’t think you’d say yes so fast.”

Louise grins, taking his comment as a light tease. “Why wouldn’t I? Haven’t been able to stop thinking about it all day. I’m glad you asked me out, Ewan.”

The words should feel good, flattering, but instead, they land somewhere hollow inside him. He musters a smile. “Glad you could make it.”

They start walking toward the entrance, Ewan trying to ignore the tight knot of anxiety in his chest. He knows you’re already here with Mat—he checked the time about ten times before finally leaving his place, running every possible conversation he might have with you through his head, looking for any way to seem unaffected, unbothered. But as he holds the door open for Louise and steps into the pub, it hits him: he isn’t sure if he’s more afraid of seeing you or of you not paying any attention to him at all.

The night starts out better than expected. Mat effortlessly becomes the unofficial leader of your little group, buying drinks for everyone as if it’s his duty and keeping the conversation light. With him, there’s no pressure, no assumptions—he’s just a genuinely nice guy who’s clearly here to show you a good time. Louise, meanwhile, is totally swept up in Ewan, hanging onto his every word, and you wonder if she’s even noticed that his attention is… not exactly on her.

For the first half hour, Ewan’s his usual reserved self, quietly nursing a pint and nodding along as Mat talks. You catch his eye once or twice, sending him a silent question, Are you okay? Each time, he just looks away, tapping his fingers against his glass, a little too focused on the froth floating near the top. But as the night wears on and the drinks keep coming, he’s not just tapping anymore—he’s interjecting. Little comments at first, almost harmless. But soon, it’s obvious: he’s countering Mat, line for line, almost like it’s a game.

“Right, so you like to box in your spare time?” Mat asks you, grinning. He’s been curious about every little detail, giving you that ‘first-date glow’ that you’d been sure was reserved for movies.

“Yeah, it’s kind of my stress reliever,” you say with a shrug, already feeling your cheeks hurt from smiling.

But Ewan cuts in with a half-smile. “We actually started that together, didn’t we, love?” he says, giving Mat a look like he’s testing him. “I practically had to drag her into the gym at first. But now she’s a total menace with the gloves on.”

Mat just plays along. “Good thing you’re into it now then,” he says mildly, unaffected.

And you can see that only irritates Ewan more.

Mat’s generosity doesn’t stop at drinks. He orders an array of finger food and slides the plates toward you, making sure you’ve had a bit of everything. It’s thoughtful, and your heart swells a little at his attentiveness.

“You’re a sweet one, aren’t you, Barzal?” Ewan murmurs with a slightly bitter laugh, clinking his glass a little too roughly against his empty one before looking at Mat. “Though I guess you have to be, right? With all the eyes on you all the time?”

Mat raises his brows, unruffled. “Just don’t like to let people go hungry. Especially not her,” he says, his tone sincere, smiling at you.

Ewan doesn’t bother hiding his scoff. “Oh, so that’s the bar now? Bringing someone snacks?”

Your face heats in embarrassment on behalf of your best friend, and even Louise nudges him, whispering something in his ear, but he just takes another long sip, leaning back as he watches you and Mat across the booth with a look that’s bordering on possessive. He keeps this up over the next round, seemingly unable to hold himself back. When Mat jokes about taking you to a hockey game back in the States, Ewan clears his throat.

“Does Mat know you don’t actually like crowded places?” he asks, his voice sharper than intended. “Or maybe you’ve changed?”

Mat looks between the two of you, amused but silent.

“Is that so?” Mat says smoothly. “I could have you set up in a box. Nice and private.”

You can feel Ewan bristling in front of you, his grip on his glass a little too tight. He leans over slightly, his voice low and challenging. “But Mat wouldn’t know that you’re actually scared of heights, would he?” he says, letting it drop as if it’s some kind of winning play.

“Ewan,” you say under your breath, trying to keep a smile on for Mat’s sake. But Ewan doesn’t hear you, or doesn’t want to. He’s just watching Mat like he’s daring him to make the wrong move. If he knew just how rowdy hockey players get on the ice, he’d probably think twice before attempting to rile Mat up.

Mat clears his throat, obviously picking up on the tension but shrugging it off. “Good thing hockey rinks are nice and low, eh?” he jokes, draping an arm around your shoulders, trying to bring you back to the easy atmosphere you had before Ewan started butting in.

“God, Mat, must be nice to not have a single care,” Ewan says with a bitter smile, tipping his glass toward him like a scornful, mocking salute before taking another sip. “Just float through life without worrying about, you know, things like actually knowing the people you’re dating.”

It’s the last straw. You look between him and Mat, irritation simmering hot in your chest. Mat looks at you, giving a slight shake of his head, as if to say he’s fine, but you’re not fine. You turn to Ewan, leaving no room for refusal.

“Ewan, can I talk to you? Outside. Now.”

He opens his mouth, probably to argue, but when he sees your expression, his face drops, and he sets down his drink. He rises slowly, and for a moment, there’s a flicker of regret in his eyes, but he just follows you out without a word.

As you step outside into the night air, the noise of the pub falling away behind you, you feel your anger finally bubble to the surface.

“What the hell is your problem, Ewan?” you snap, your voice cracking from the raw emotion clawing at you. “What was all that in there?”

He stares at you like he’s trying to figure out what to say, his eyes flicking from the ground to your face. You can see him wrestling with himself, and it makes your blood boil even more.

“Are you really asking me that?” His voice comes out tight, like he’s barely holding it together. “You think I’m just supposed to stand there while he… while he puts his hands on you, looks at you like that?”

Your chest suddenly aches, and you shove past him, walking in a tight circle, trying to get the tension out of your limbs. You don’t even know why you’re still standing here, letting him say these things to you. But you can’t help but want to hear how he’s going to explain it all away. “What are you talking about, Ewan? Why should it matter to you?”

“Don’t act like you don’t know,” he shoots back as he steps closer, eyes dark with something you haven’t been at the receiving end of before. “You think I’m just going to let this happen? That I’d let you walk away with him?”

“Walk away?” you laugh bitterly. “You’re unbelievable. You pushed me away! You said we were just friends! You told me you didn’t want us to happen! And now you’re acting like you have the right to say this to me?”

His hands shake, and he clenches them into fists, eyes burning with frustration. “I was a fucking idiot, okay? I—” He stops, taking a deep breath, like he’s trying to keep it together. “I didn’t know what I wanted. I didn’t know what the hell I was doing. I’m not gonna lie, I was pushing you away because I was scared. Scared of what we could be, scared of screwing everything up.”

You try to pick apart his words in your mind, and no matter how you spin it, they come back with the same message. He wants you.

He wants you?

“So what?” you mumble, as if asking yourself, “now, after all this time, now you decide you want me? Now you want to admit it? You had your chance. You had so many chances.”

His face twists in pain, and for a second, you think maybe he’s finally hearing you. But then his eyes flash, and it’s like the storm inside him is rising again. “Are you just going to…move on, just like that? Pretend I don’t matter? Like I don’t know you better than anyone?”

“I’m not pretending you don’t matter. I’m not pretending anything! But I can’t just sit around and wait for you to figure your shit out. I won’t do it. I’ve been waiting for you… all this time! And I can’t do it anymore.”

There’s a heartbeat of silence as he stares at you like he’s seeing you for the first time and realising he might lose you in the same breath. He notes the way you fight back tears, your eyes glistening, the way you do when you’re pushed to the edge. You see that almost imperceptible twitch of his palms, fingers yearning for the ghost of a cigarette, the way he does when he’s on his last straw.

That pout of your lips that he adores. That clench in his jaw muscle that you want to trace with your fingertips.

You see each other, know each other like the backs of your hands. It’s a connection that has always made sense, that neither of you ever dared question it. What is left now is to finally call it what it is.

He takes another step closer.

“Then don’t.”

“Don’t… what…”

Ewan’s hands find your arms, pulling you toward him. “You don’t have to wait anymore. It’s always been you, my love. Always. I was a goddamn idiot, and now I’m losing you because I couldn’t see what was in front of me.”

“Ewan—”

“I love you.”

It feels like the ground has been yanked out from under you, like you’re falling but somehow still standing there. A thousand memories flash through your mind in that instant—the way he’d glance at you across crowded rooms, those late-night calls when he’d barely say anything, just needing you to be on the other end of the line. The way he’d pull you close in the rare quiet moments, just you and him and this unspoken thing you thought you’d made up. 

All those years of thinking you were crazy, that you were seeing things that weren’t there. He was your best friend, the one person you trusted, but somewhere along the way, he became something more, and you couldn’t make sense of it because he’d never given you anything solid to hold onto.

And now… here he is, standing in front of you, saying the one thing you’ve always wanted him to say but thought he never would. You don’t know if you want to scream at him or fall into his arms. Maybe both.

It’s too much—the ache of loving him, of wanting him, and the pain of having to hide it behind easy smiles and casual laughter. And now, he’s standing here telling you he feels the same.

“You can’t—” your voice shakes as the words spill out, your disbelief palpable. “You can’t say that. Not now, after everything. After you told me you didn’t want this, didn’t want me. I was so ready to be yours, Ewan, and you just… And then I find you with her, and—”

Ewan’s hands reach up to cradle your face tentatively, his thumb caressing your cheek. “I know, my love. But I was scared of losing you that I pushed you away. I thought it’d be easier that way. I didn’t… I didn’t think it would end up like this. I’m sorry.”

In a last ditch effort of self-preservation, to keep from falling straight down the pit of no return, into the promise of him, you offer the words that sound right. “We’ll be okay, Ewan. We always be… friends…”

“Oh fuck that, my darling.”

And before you can think further, before you can even decide what to do next, his lips crash into yours, hard and full of every unspoken feeling, every wasted year, every goddamn minute you spent wondering if he’d ever feel this way about you—gone. His kiss is fierce, filled with so much need it almost hurts. And you’re kissing him back, your hands clutching at his shirt, feeling him press you tightly against his body as if he could make up for all the times he pulled away.

But then, just as abruptly, it all comes rushing back. The weight of years of hoping crashes down on you like a wave. 

You pull back, breathless, hands pushing against his chest, and he stumbles back, his eyes wide, face flushed and full of surprise. 

“I can’t,” you whisper, barely able to look at him, your mind still buzzing from the intensity of his kiss. “I can’t do this, Ewan. Not like this. Not now.”

“But—”

“We have to head back inside. We’re both on dates, remember?”

This time, it’s you who breaks away.

tagging Ewan's angels: @darktrashsoulbear @mamawiggers1980 @feed-my-downfall @leftoverp1zza @msbyswife @katherine93 @littlehannekin18 @nurtargaryen @aemondswifeisme @barnes70stark @garden-in-the-rain @salermotatis @lina-lovebug @strangersunghoon @hydrationqueensworld @eclecticqueennerd @kckt88 @hajmola-vs-aamchaska @primroseluna @sillysillygyal @b00kw0rmsworld @raging-panda @dedicateeverythingtomilkshake @aspookiepookie @peachysunrize @dreamygirli3 @callsignwidow

[therealsquiddo]

how do u feel abt people shipping you and Ash?? Theres been an influx of people shipping you guys the past couple days and we would like to know if it makes You uncomfortable (⁠´⁠；⁠ω⁠；⁠｀⁠)

Hi

So generally speaking please don't send me asks that are like, "What do you think of this ship?" or things of that nature. The answer is always "I don't care" or "I think it's funny".

That being said if we were uncomfortable by the prospect of people shipping us I wouldn't have included the parts where we were flirting with each other. Earlier today I saw... oh my days what is my life... I saw "swagsquid discourse" and I laughed so hard I almost spat out my drink through my nose (Thats the only reason I'm answering this ask lol) I don't care I just think it's funny.

It's just another form of expressing interest right? Like making fanfic or aus? I'm not upset by it.

My only request is that you just don't send me asks on here or my discord, or my twitch chat etc about my thoughts on ships because I'm not sure how to respond most of the time.

I think I've said this on all platforms now... Hopefully now you all #know

[rosenclaws]

Hi!! I’d love to see you do the prompt “Don’t tell me you love me unless you mean it.” with Logan! Was thinking of the reader who’s so self loathing of her own powers opening up for the first time towards Logan 🥺

warnings: angst/fluff, Logan has interesting teaching methods lol

600 follower drabble masterlist

wc: 1.2k

a/n: So this also...turned into more than a drabble oops. I got carried away I can't help it asdflk;h. Anyways I totally got inspired by ATLA for some of the logan pep talk if u can tell lol.

The mansion was so lonely. It shouldn't be but it is. Especially for you. Brought here as a child you grew up here. You were excited, hopeful that maybe you could start a new life here. But then your powers went haywire.

Just when you thought things could be different your emotions got the better of you. Fire raged through the mansion and you couldn't stop it. The more you panicked the worst it got.

When the flames were put out all you could see was the destruction that ravaged the once spotless mansion. It was an accident. Charles knew it and so did everyone else but that didn't stop the whispers, the fear. You never wanted this.

You did all you could to suppress your powers for years. Leaving the school and never looking back. Years passed and you managed to live a quite life. You went to work and went home. It was a lonely life but you couldn't hurt anyone so it you learned to live it.

Then one day you got a letter from Charles. It was a matter of such importance that you had no choice but to return. It was weird being back.

It was in the dead of the night that you found yourself alone. Just as you remembered. This time wandering through the halls of the mansion. Your fingers traced the familiar paintings and furniture. A frown coming over your face as you trace the faint scorch marks that still remain.

"So those were you." A deep voice startles you.

You feel a light flame escape your fingertips as you shove you cross your arms and hide your hands away. There stands Logan with a cigar in his mouth. You breathe a sigh of relief as you lower your arms.

"Sorry, didn't meant to scare you." He holds out his cigar and you roll your eyes. He's been trying to get you to use your powers, to light his damn cigars because he's too lazy to reach into his own pocket.

"Come on, just a little flame." He says with a smirk.

"Can I help you Logan?" Though you're glaring he can see that small smile.

You and Logan were unlikely friends as you put it. The two of you understood each other. Understood the want to hide away. Don't get close and you won't get hurt. Even with that mantra somehow you were each others exception.

Maybe it was stupid but having Logan was nice. He was nice in his own weird way. Looked out for you, joked with you on the rare occasion. Plus he was easy on the eyes, but you don't let yourself go there. Love...it's just not meant for you. You don't do love and neither does Logan. Even if you want it, even if sometimes he finds his way into your dreams.

"Nope." He gestures for you to follow him so you do. Walking quietly through the halls until he leads you outside. A chill washes over you step outside.

"Just a little light for me sweetheart?" Okay the first time was charming but now it's getting annoying.

"Will you quit it." You snap. Logan raises an eyebrow and you sigh. Sitting down on a bench and looking down at your hands.

"You know I don't use my powers anymore."

"I know."

"So why do you keep asking?" He shrugs and sits down next to you.

"Because, I think you're being ridiculous."

"Excuse me?" You scoff. You clench your fists as you glare at Logan.

"So what you burned some wood big deal. That really all it takes for you to run?"

You're hurt and confused where the hell this is coming from. You thought he'd understand you but clearly you were wrong.

"You know what Logan fuck you." You hiss as you stand up.

Logan grabs your wrist before you can walk away and in a fit of anger you push him away. Flames coming out of your hand and hitting him square in the chest. You gasp as his flannel catches fire. Without thinking you press your hand and kill the flame.

"Logan I-"

"Stop." He grabs your wrist and points to an empty fire pit.

"Light it."

"Logan I can't."

"Yes you can sweetheart," He tilts your head towards him. Looking at you with a sparkle in his eye.

"Trust yourself." You take a deep breath and send a fireball into the pit, lighting it up.

Your hand tingles as you use your powers for the first time in a long time. You wait for the other shoe to drop. For the fire to rage past what it's meant to be but it never does. Slowly you hold your hand out focus, the fire slowly gets smaller until it's snuffed out. You stare at your hand in awe. Control. You had control.

"Fire is destruction." Logan interlaces your fingers with his. He's got this smile that you've never really seen before.

"But it's also life, it's beautiful. You're beautiful." You bite your lip as he squeezes your hand. There's a fear that you'll burn him without thinking but he heals. You can't hurt him.

"Why are you helping me?" Why does he care this much? He didn't have to do this, you're not a student and yet here he is. Pushing you past your worries.

"I..." Logan tries to find the words. You're right he doesn't do this but he did for you because, well because..."I love you sweetheart."

Your eyes cloud with tears as you take in his words. He doesn't mean it can he? I mean, it's does he understand what that means. What it means to love you.

“Don’t tell me you love me unless you mean it. Please." You don't think you could handle it. He's already got your heart and it won't take much to crush it.

"Are you doubting me? I'm over a hundred years old I know what love feels like." Logan brushes your lips with his thumb, he's not great with words but he knows what he feels. No one can tell him any different.

Your eyes flutter shut as he kisses you. He smells like cigar smoke and he tastes like honey. The kiss a little rough, you can tell he's trying to hold back. To be gentle which he's not always great at. You pout when he breaks the kiss, already wanting more.

"Later." He promises after noticing the look on your face.

You walk back through the mansion hand in hand. It's better at this hour, no prying eyes and whispers. For now it's just you and him. Though something does cross your mind as you reach your room.

"Did you...Were you trying to make me mad on purpose?" He smirks and pulls out another cigar from somewhere.

"It worked didn't it?" Unbelievable.

"You're an idiot Logan, what if I couldn't control it? What if I burned down the mansion, again?!" Logan rolls his eyes and kisses you again. Pushing you against the door. Your thoughts turn to mush as he kisses your neck.

"You aren't the monster you think you are." He whispers and you freeze. His words hitting you like a brick. Logan knows what it's like to be a monster, a weapon. He's the monster if anything. But you? You could never be. Not in his eyes.

Before he leaves he hands you his cigar. You shake your head and laugh. Holding out your hand you produce a small flame and he lights his cigar.

"Was all this just so I could give you a light?" You ask teasingly. Logan chuckles and presses another kiss to your cheek.

"Absolutely." As much as you want to invite him in your room, you decide to wait. Rushing anything with Logan is the last thing you want. You want the time to be together. A good fire needs to grow before it becomes a roar.

"Goodnight Logan."

"Goodnight sweetheart."

Your fingers slowly unlace as he walks away. You don't want him to go, fearing that this is just a one off night. There's no way you can have control so easily but then he looks back at you. He's got this look on his face that makes you feel like everything is going to be alright and for once you believe it.

[cressidagrey]

It's a Love Story - Chapter 8

Summary:

Azriel's shadows find their master a wife.

Azriel would just really like his heart not to get broken again.

And Sky...well, she's just really surprised that that far too handsome male is interested in her at all.

Warning:

Rhys Bashing (as usual), I classified this as Azriel x OC, even when it't technically Azriel x Sellyn Drake (but we kinda know nothing about Sellyn Drake other than that she writes books so Sky is kinda an OC), Cassian is kinda a good guy for once, Azriel has a horrible time, as usual... Stuttering, toxic families (For once I do not mean the IC), Self-Esteem Issues, Secret Identity, Body Image Issues, Fat Shaming, People being utterly horrible. Racism against Illyrians/Lesser Faes?

If any of this triggers you or makes you uncomfortable, please take care of your own mental health and don't read it.

Sky didn’t have much of a temper.

Even if she was frustrated or annoyed, she rarely got angry or lost her patience. 

It wasn't that she didn't have emotions. She did. She felt things deeply, passionately. However, she also believed that there was no point in wasting energy on getting angry. It didn't solve anything. It only made things worse. 

So Sky had learned a very, very long time ago…that there was no need to start screaming, because her stutter didn’t allow her that anyway…and that maybe…maybe it was easier for her to just let go off her anger about being unfairly treated. 

Getting angry wouldn’t help her. 

That day however…it burst out of her. Burst out of her like somebody had lanced an abscess. 

Her family could say whatever they wanted about her. But they were not going to say a single word about Azriel 

It was Winter Solstice.

Azriel and her had spent the last month or so enjoying winter season in Velaris…even once trying to ice skate on their lake, which only ended with him kissing her skinned knees, because she was definitely not a natural at it.

They had bought Winter Solstice gifts, and baked cookies…had decorated their house with pine garlands and velvet ribbons…

She had knitted them socks and they had made rabbit stews out of rabbits Azriel had hunted in the forest behind their house. (It was…she had never really seen him as a warrior, even when he wore these black leathers and the blue stone that glinted off him…but she could see him as a hunter, when he came home with a couple of rabbits, ready for dinner. It had also resulted in a new fur lined blanket for her, all ready on the couch. 

She had never outright asked…but he seemd to like it when she was cuddled beneath it, like it seemed to soothe some kind of instinct for him. Maybe the fact that it was the animal he had hunted?)   

Sky and Azriel had both made the decision to spend the days with their respective families and have their own Solstice celebrations the next day…that would pretty much sonsits out of a lazy day in bed and nothing else. 

It sounded amazing. Just what they wanted. 

And it had made sense to celebrate like that. She hadn’t wanted to be the one to keep him from his family after all, even if the thought of not spending Solstice with her mate had hurt more than she wanted to admit.

Azriel had been up ridiculous easily in the morning for a snowball fight that was apparently tradition…but not before he had spent a good half hour making her scream his name with his mouth between her thighs…

Afterwards, she had gotten dressed and left the shadows to amuse Hector for the day… and Sky had left to help her mother with dinner preparations.

A nice, quiet family dinner. Nothing more and nothing less.

That’s what it was supposed to be. They didn’t even get that far.

It all went to shit before dinner was even in the oven. 

From the moment she entered her parents house it was a barrage of barbed comments. About her appearance, her stutter, her lack of an boyfriend…her lack of a proper job. (Sellyn Drake was hers. Sellyn Drake was nothing they got to gossip about.) 

Sky had bitten her tongue. She had ignored the comments, tried to enjoy herself. But Claire never knew when enough was enough.

Her sister kept at it. Kept needling, jabbing at Sky until the little bubbles of anger popped to the surface and boiled into something…bigger.

“I…I met my m…mate,” Sky finally said flatly, after anther jab at her lack of a boyfriend. 

Take that Claire. Not just a fiance. A mate. 

Finally in just one thing Sky had been faster than her sister. 

A mate. That mystical rare mating bond had been a gift from the other for her and not for Claire. 

It caught Claire off guard. She stopped pacing, and turned to look at her sister, brow raised. The look said ‘Oh is that so?’ as if it was the kind of nonsense she had come to expect from her.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she scoffed, clearly not believing a word Sky said. 

But Sky wasn’t going to let this go. “His n..name is Azriel,” Sky said with a smile. “We are ver…very hap…happy.” 

They were. They were so happy. So delightfully happy. (So delightfully happy that Sky had been wondering if maybe…maybe the should start trying. High Fae fertility was hit or miss anyway…why shouldn’t they simply start trying and see where it would take them. And if it took two decades, then it took two decades. If it only took a year or three…well, then they were lucky.)  

Claire narrowed her eyes. She was about to say something mean, Sky could see it in the way her lip curled up.

“He…He's a g…good male,” she said firmly, cutting Claire off before she got the chance to spew out anything else.

Claire laughed. It was a harsh, biting sound.

"A good male? Really, Sky?" she sneered. "You actually fell for that line?"

It wasn’t a line. It was the truth. 

Azriel was a good male. Patient and intense and loving. He had never raised a single finger against her.Azriel would never hurt her intentionally. 

 Claire just wanted to belittle Sky in front of their whole family.

"You must be even more naive than you seem if you believe that," she said, almost pityingly. "You really think he wants you? That he actually cares about you? Nobody could want you. I bet he just pities you."

It should have hurt her, she realised. It would have. Even just months ago, it would have hurt her. 

But right now…right now it didn’t really. 

She was supposed to believe that Azriel didn’t want her? The same male that had spent the better part of an hour on his knees in front of her that very morning, eating her out like a starved male? She was supposed that her mate, who’s arousal shot across the bond like an inferno any time she slipped off her clothes, didn’t want her? That the same male that stared at her like she was a goddess, that spent hours worshipping her body with his hands…that she had nearly made come simply by touching his wings a few days ago didn’t want her? 

Still…Claire's words had their effect. She felt a small stab of doubt in her heart, and she hated it. She hated that her sister could still hurt her like this, still make her feel like that insecure little girl who stuttered and couldn't get a single word right.

“He…He l…loves me and I…I love him,” Sky said calmly.

That was clear in every single one of his actions, in every single word. 

“Where did you even meet him?” Sky’s mother demanded. “And what kind of name is Azriel?”

“In…In a bar. Wh…When we went out for Cl..Claire’s Hen Do.  And I im…imagine it’s an Il…illyrian name.”

Everything ground to a halt.

“He’s Illyrian?!” Her mother demanded sharply. “What’s wrong with you, Skylar!”

Sky flinched at her tone. It was harsh, angry. It was the same tone she'd always used when Sky was younger and got anything wrong or stepped out of line.

"Yes, he's Il…Illlyrian," she said, meeting her mother's gaze levelly. "What's…what’s wrong with that?" she asked. 

She knew that her family wasn’t the…most open about Lesser Faes, but…but that hatred in her mother’s voice….she hadn’t expected that. 

“Everything,” Admon gave back with a snort. “You seriously let that barbarian fuck you? I am surprised you actually survived that and he didn’t just rip you apart.”

Every bit of colour leeched out of her face, except her ruddy red cheeks at these crude words. 

This was Admon. Once upon a time, she had wanted to marry him. To have his children. To spent her life with him. 

And…and this was what he told her to her face. 

“I can’t believe that you even let a creature like him touch you,” her mother breathed staring at her with utter disgust.

“He’...He’s not a cre…creature,” Sky bit out. Azriel was her mate. 

“Is it true by the way?” Her brother wondered. “That Illyrian’s have a cat’s prick?”

"Orin!" her mother exclaimed, aghast. "Don't be vulgar! I don't want to know."

Orin shrugged, a smirk dancing across his face. "What? I’m just curious. I am sure Skylar knows. She must please him somehow when she’s still alive to enjoy their…couplings.”

Sky felt ill. She didn't know what to say, what to say in defense of the man she loved. She couldn't get a word out.

“Did you…did you let it touch you?” Her father demanded finally, his voice icy.

It. Not even him. It. Like Azriel was a thing. 

Sky felt her heart drop to the floor, breaking into pieces.

"Yes," she admitted, her voice barely audible.

Her father's face grew stony, and he took a step closer to her.

“How dare you?” he hissed. "How could you let a monster touch you like that?"

"He's not a monster!" Sky protested, her voice rising. "He's…He’s k…kind and gen…gentle, and-"

“And I am sure, he keeps you stuffed with his cat prick to keep you satisfied,” Claire drawled.

And Sky was done.

Somehow that was the last straw. 

Somehow that made something inside her break, irreparable. 

It snipped away every thread that ever kept her close to the family that she had been born into. 

“At least I didn’t need to take my sister’s sl…sloppy s…seconds,” Sky said, her voice flat, meeting her gaze full on.“And yes, Azriel more than keeps me s…satisfied.”

Silence descended over the room, the only sound the soft crackle of the fire in the hearth. Sky felt the tension in the air grow heavier with each passing second.

"You…you didn’t just say that,” Claire said coldly. "You take that back, Sky.

Sky raised her chin defiantly. "No.” she said simply. “I'm…I’m not taking back the truth," she said, her voice ringing with unexpected steel.

"You do not speak to me like that," Claire hissed. "You have no right—"

Something inside Sky snapped. Years of frustration, years of feeling invisible and ignored, years of enduring Claire's taunts and jibes all bubbled to the surface.

"I…I have ev…every right," she shot back, her heart pounding in her chest. “Not so fun when you are on the re…receiving end, is it?”

“Either you end your…dalliance with…that creature, or you are no daughter of mine,” her father snapped.

He talked to her like she was nothing. Like she was worth less than dirt beneath his boots. 

And somehow that made it even easier. 

“You want me to turn away my mate…for what? This?” She asked him, cocking her head to the side. .

"For the sake of our family’s reputation," her father said. "You are an embarrassment to us all by associating with that…lesser fae barbarian.”

Barbarian. Lesser Fae. Thing. Creature. Monster.

All of that said about the male she loved. About her mate. 

“He’s Illyrian,” Sky said, her voice icy. 

“Oh come off it,” “Orin snapped. “He’s lesser fae. The only thing they are good for is being fodder for the armies during war times. Other than that, they are worthless.”

Fodder. 

“We have Lesser Fae ancestry ourself,” Sky responded icily. “Our great grandmother was a River Nymph.”

"That was a long time ago," her father interrupted sharply. "It was one ancestor generations ago. And besides, her blood was not that strong to begin with."

Sky thought back to the eyes that looked back from her mirror each day. Blue and beautiful. The one trace of her that got passed down to her.

"Maybe it was her blood that made you think that opening your legs for that creature was in any way appropriate," her mother hissed. 

And suddenly it was so easy. 

“Azriel is my mate,” she hissed. “I will al…always chose him over you. You can spew what..whatever insult you want about him or his pe…peoople. He’s still a bet…better male than any of you could ever hope to be, has treated me better than any of you. I’ll gladly no longer be your daughter.”

She felt the sting of tears running down her cheeks, but she didn't try to wipe them away. She just stared back at her family, daring them to say more. There was a short moment of silence, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

She should have expected it. Her mother had always been quick to slap her if she did anything anything that she didn’t like.

Just this time…her hand didn’t make contact.

Sky stared at the tendril of shadows that jerked her mother’s hand back, having suddenly appeared. 

*You. Will. Not. Lay. A. Finger. On. Her,* the shadows hissed menacingly.

Sky stared at the shadows, her eyes widening in shock. They were angry. No. Furious. Utterly and completely furious. Her mother seemed equally taken aback, her hand still outstretched in the air where the shadows had stopped her.

Orin looked like he was about to piss himself, and her father…her father stared at the shadows, his face ashen.

“Come here,” Sky said quietly.

The shadows left her mother to come swarming to her, brushing over her cheek in greeting before wrapping themselves around her neck in a clearly possessive move.

Sky felt the familiar warmth of the shadows sink into her, a small bit of comfort in this awful situation. She turned to her family, her jaw set.

"I’m…I’m never coming back," she said, her voice quiet but resolute. And with that, she turned and walked away, She had only taken a handful of steps when she stopped and turned back, one last thing needing to be said, before she closed the door on this chapter of her life forever.

"I never want to see any of you again," she said, her voice shaking only slightly. "And when we have children, don’t you dare come and ask to have anything to do with them. You don’t deserve to even breath the same air as my mate."

With that, she turned and walked away, her head held high. 

***

Whatever went on between sky and her family…it wasn’t good. He could feel that in the bond slumbering underneath his breast bone.

He rubbed it absentmindly, staring in the flickering flame of the Birchin.

He had won that Snowball fight. Once more. One more victory to add to it.  Not that he particularly cared right now.

*Is she alright?* he asked the shadows.

The shadows were…quiet. And that spoke volumes. Something wasn't right. Azriel's heart pounded against his chest, his instincts urging him to act. He had to make sure Sky was alright. He couldn't stand to think about her being in any sort of trouble.

*Physicallly unharmed,* the shadows promised. *Her family is horrible,* they told him distastefully. 

Azriel's heart clenched at the shadow’s words. While it was a small relief that Sky wasn't physically hurt…her family being horrible made him want to grimace. 

“Alright, I had it!” Cassian snapped at that moment. “What the fuck is going on with you two?”

Azriel turned to his brother, seeing Cassian watch Rhys and himself with an expression of…something. Exasperation maybe.

"What do you mean?" Azriel asked, his voice even, feigning ignorance. He was really not in the mood to get into that either. But apparently he wasn’t going to get that small bit of mercy. 

"Don’t play dumb with me, brother," Cassian said, rolling his eyes. "You are both moody and more distant than usual. What the heck happened?"

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” Azriel said flatly. Cassian rolled his eyes.

“Rhys?” Cassian demanded with a sigh. 

“You want to explain or shall I?” Rhys addressed him and Azriel just looked at him flatly.

“You gave the orders, High Lord.”

If Azriel had been in a better mood, he would have smirked. But right now, he just wanted this whole conversation to be over so he could check on Sky. The thought of her made his chest ache. He longed to see her, to hold her, to make sure she's alright. But he knew that Cassian and Rhys wouldn’t let him go without an explanation.

“Azriel and I…had a disagreement about Elain.” Azriel just stared at Rhys blankly. Seriously, that was the best Rhys could come up with? That’s what he wanted to go with?!

"A disagreement?" Cassian asked, brows raised. "What kind of disagreement? A 'we came to an agreement' kind of disagreement, or a 'we punched each other in the face' disagreement?"

“A ‘Rhys sticks his nose into things that are none of his business’ disagreement,” Azriel gave back drily.

“Excuse me, you were going to kiss ELain while her mate was under the same roof two years ago. Did you ever even consider the political ramifications of that?” Rhys snapped. “For gods sake, Azriel!”

Azriel's jaw clenched at Rhys's words, his temper flaring even as he tried to maintain a neutral expression. "You think I didn't consider the consequences? Of course, I did," he hissed, his voice dangerously low. "But feelings aren't logical, Rhys. We don't choose who we fall for, and it's not as simple as calculating political ramifications."

“I told Azriel to keep away from Elain. She fell for Lucien. He’s still moping about it and giving me the fault,” Rhys said flatly. “Out of pure interest, how much longer do you want to keep up with that, Az?”

Azriel couldn’t help the laugh that burst out od his mouth at that.

“You didn’t just fucking tell me to keep away from her. You told me and I quote ‘If you need to fuck somebody go to a pleasure hall and pay for it’,” Azriel repeated viciously.

"And I stand by that," Rhys snapped. "The last thing we need is for you to pine over someone who has made it clear where she stands. Elain has her mate, and she doesn't return your feelings. She’s married for gods’ sake!”

“Whoa!” Cassian cut them off. “What the fuck, Rhys?!”

"What?" Rhys demanded, glaring at Cassian.

Cassian gave him an incredulous look. "You told Azriel to go to a pleasure hall? Seriously?"

"I was trying to be helpful," Rhys said, his jaw clenching.

"Helpful?" Cassian asked incrediously. "Helpful would have been to be a little more understanding towards your brother's feelings. He does have them, you know,” Cassian said sarcastically. 

"I know that," Rhys snapped. "But he needs to move on. It's not healthy to keep pining after someone who doesn't return his feelings."

“Where was this opinion for the 500 years of me pining after Mor?” Azriel snapped. 

Rhys's expression darkened. "Don't do that, Azriel. Don't bring Mor into this. She's not relevant to this discussion."

”Not relevant?” Azriel gave back with a laugh. “I think she’s very relevant. You don’t trust me to act like an adult about my feelings. You ordered me to behave like I am some kind of rabid dog. More than once, more than twice. Constantly. Like I would ever do anything to put Mor and Emerie’s relationship into jeopardy. Don’t worry, High Lord. I’ll behave. I’ll leave Mor and Elain alone. .”

Rhys ran a hand through his hair, his frustration clear. "This is not about Mor, Azriel. This is about keeping the peace within our Inner Circle. Elain has her own life and her own happiness to think about. Interfering could only bring pain, not just for you, but for everyone involved. That’s why I ordered you to keep your distance. Not because I don’t trust your feelings or your actions, but because sometimes even the best intentions can have unintended consequences."

Azriel’s eyes darkened, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "Don't give me any of your high and mighty bullshit, Rhysand. You don’t think I am good enough for Mor, and you certainly don't think I am good enough for Elain. But don’t worry, I'll keep my distance, as ordered. I wouldn't want to risk upsetting your perfect little court or ruining your plans for peace. Just tell me who else is off limits, so I know who else I'm not good enough for. Maybe Gwyn? Because remember, ‘don’t you dare to pressure her’?"

Rhys sighed, his gaze softening slightly. "Azriel, it's not about who you're 'good enough' for and who you aren't. It's about respecting people's choices and boundaries. Elain has made her choice in Lucien, and I just want to protect her and the peace we've worked so hard to maintain. And no, nobody else is off limits. You're free to…'seek your entertainment' as you please."

His entertainment. 

Right. 

Azriel snorted, the sound full of derision. “It warms my heart that you give me that permission,” Azriel said, his voice dripping with disdain.

Rhys rolled his eyes, clearly irritated by Azriel's reaction. "I'm not trying to 'give you permission,' Azriel," he said firmly. "I'm just trying to make sure you understand why I'm asking you to behave. I care about you and our inner circle. You're my brother, but I also care about Elain and her happiness. I don't want to see anyone get hurt."

“Have I done anything, anything at all that put her happiness in jeopardy?” Azriel asked, his voices harsh. “I kept away as you ordered. I fucking saved Lucien’s life, so she could be happy.”

"You haven't done anything wrong," Rhys acknowledged, his tone softening. "You've been a better friend to Elain than anyone could have asked. You saved Luicen because you are a good person, not just for Elain's sake. But I still think it’s best if you keep your distance. Not just for her, but for yourself too. Dwelling on feelings that can’t be returned will only bring you pain."

“For cauldron’s sake, Rhys,” Cassian said with a sigh.

Rhys turned his attention to him, the exasperation clear in his eyes. "What, Cassian?" he asked, his tone weary.

Cassian rubbed a hand over his jaw, shaking his head. "You’re so hell bent on keeping the peace you forget that the people in your court have feelings too," he said. "Azriel isn’t some emotionless soldier doing your bidding. He has feelings and desires, just like everyone else. And sometimes it’s not as simple as just moving on."

"I know that," Rhys said, running a hand through his hair. "But sometimes we have to put our own feelings aside for the greater good. As a High Lord, I have to think about the impact my actions could have on others. I'm not trying to shut down Azriel's feelings. I'm just trying to protect him from potential pain.”

“Yeah you did a shitty job at that,” Cassian said drily. “You could have told Mor hundred of years ago to have a conversation with him. You didn’t. But Azriel is supposed to tread carefully not to make her or Emerie uncomfortable. Azriel is supposed to behave?”

Rhys's eyes flashed in anger. "I know I've made mistakes, Cassian. I should have handled things differently with Mor and Azriel. But I can't change the past. All I can do is try to make the best decisions for everyone involved right now."

“You don’t even fucking realise how much of a self important hypocritical asshole you are, do you?” Azriel asked flatly. “It’s okay for you to pursue an engaged female that’s engaged to another High Lord, damn the consequences. But the rest of us…we are told to behave.”

Rhys bristled at Azriel’s words, his own temper threatening to flare. "That's different, Azriel," he said, his voice sharp. "That’s different and you know it. You would understand if you had a…” he hesitated.

"If I had a what?" Azriel prompted sharply.

Rhys let out a frustrated sigh, his fingers clenching around his mug. "A mate."

“Rhys,” Cassian said carefully.

"What?" Rhys snapped, his temper still simmering just below the surface. “He doesn’t have a mate, he doesn’t fucking understand it.”

Aaaaaand…. Azriel was done.

So fucking done. 

“Where are you going?” Rhys demanded as he stood up.

“Home,” Azriel said flatly. “You have my gifts, hand them out. Wish Feyre a Happy Birthday, will you? I’ll be back to do your bidding in about 3 days, High Lord.” 

“I highly doubt that your mother will enjoy your impromptu appearance at Rosehall,” Rhys said. Azriel’s hand twitched towards Truthteller. “Let’s just…”

“Rhysand!” Cassian snapped.

“What?” Rhys asked. 

“I have talked to my mother once since the Sealing of Velaris was lifted,” Azriel said tightly. “One conversation where she told me that she found a new family and that I should keep away from her. So no, Rhys. I am not going to Rosehall.”

Rhys looked utterly shell-shocked by Azriel’s revelation. "Azriel, I..." he started, but Azriel simply shook his head.

"Don't," he said. "Just don't." He didn’t wnat to talk about it. He never wanted to talk about that. His mother could do whatever she wanted. he would leave her alone, just as requested. But he was not going to talk about it. 

“Then I am coming with you. You are not spending Winter Solstice alone brooding at the House of Wind,” Cassian said quickly, standing. 

“I am not going to the House of Wind either.” Azriel answered flatly. “I am going home to my house and I won’t be alone either.”

"What do you mean you won't be alone?" Rhys asked sharply.

Azriel just snorted, “My mate will be there,” he said simply. “She’s better company than any of you.”

“Your...your mate?” Rhys repeated, his eyes widening.

Cassian gaped at Azriel. "Your mate? Why didn’t you tell us? Who is she?"

“Why should I tell you? ” Azriel gave back his voice icy. “I may trust you with this court, Rhysand, but I do not trust you with anything I love. Not anymore.”

[socksracoon10]

𝐇𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐮𝐧

𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦… 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘺 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵. Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr. x F!Reader, Charles Leclerc x F!Reader, Max Verstappen x F!Reader A/N: Alright gang, I caved like I said I would, here's my first f1 fic lmao Read The Second Part: Hit and Run (Part 2)

𝘾𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙤𝙨 𝙎𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙯 𝙅𝙧.

"You had a pretty nasty crash with (Y/N) (L/N) during qualifying today, do you have any words to share about the collision?" A reporter had asked Carlos, bringing the microphone closer to his lips. Boy did he have words, a very strong choice of them that he desperately wanted to spew out on national television. He bit the inside of his cheek, his eyes focusing in on the said driver just a few feet from where he stood. She was most likely giving her side of the story to the press, and it boiled his blood. He wanted to be nice, he wanted to be supportive. He liked to welcome everyone into the sport, make them feel like they belonged. Yet all his efforts to try and be the better person went down the drain as soon as she had rammed into him on track. That was his final straw. If it wasn't for the fact that she had been getting much more cocky during interviews, talking about how Carlos was an easy opponent and was practically no competition to her, he would've let this crash slide. His eyes drifted back to the patient reporter and he shook his head,

"I don't uh... want to talk about it. It happened, let's leave it at that." He sighed, shrugging his shoulders. The reporter furrowed his brows, a doubtful pout on his lips as he tilted his head,

"Interesting you say that. (L/N) had a lot more to say."

"Oh, did she now?" Carlos raised an eyebrow; he couldn't help the way his body turned to completely face the reporter, his curiosity taking over him. He wanted to know what that idiot must've said to the press.

"She said, and I quote, 'Even if you give Carlos a million practices, he'll still fumble the bag like he did today...' what are your thoughts, Carlos?"

Carlos gaped at the reporter, his mind reeling with at least a thousand different responses, each of them having to deal with the fact that he was racing against an absolute asshole but he shook his head, trying to calm himself down. He knew his words would have weight, and he figured he might as well let her have fun for the time being. Let her have that confidence boost that she desired so strongly.

"Well, we'll see how it plays out during the race." Carlos snapped, forcing a thin smile before heading out of the press pen. 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙡𝙚𝙨 𝙇𝙚𝙘𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙘

Charles was having a wonderful weekend. Had P1 in all the practice sessions, got pole for qualifying and he was set to the win the race. He was so happy and hopeful, he knew that after a long while he was going to taste victory. Carlos had draped his arm over Charles's shoulder, giving it a little squeeze before exclaiming, "You're going to win tomorrow, I can feel it."

And then in came (Y/N) (L/N) like the absolute hurricane that she was, bopping her head to whatever stupid song was playing in her headphones. She glanced over to him, taking off one side of her headphones before scanning him from head to toe,

"You think I'd look good in red?" She asked, her head still moving side to side as she hummed with the song. Charles didn't understand it at first, and he frowned before it eventually clicked in his head,

"You'll never be in Ferrari," He scoffed, and she snorted,

"We'll see about that."

And see he did when he saw her coming up right behind him, ready to overtake him on the turn coming up, only to lose her grip and crash into him. As both cars spun towards the barriers, it wasn't hard to miss the way Charles began to scream over the radio, his voice hoarse and dry from the fact that all his hopes were diminished within seconds. He scrambled out of his bottled car and headed towards (L/N) who was looking over at her own car's damage. "You fool! You moron! What were you doing?" Charles roared, and she turned around with an exasperated sigh, "Trying to overtake you, and then I lost grip." She crossed her arms, and Charles clenched his fists, taking another step towards her, "You leave space! Leave space! I literally-" "Oh, quit whining. What's done is done, you can't be wallowing over it," She scoffed and as Charles was just about ready to shove her onto the ground, some of the marshals jogged over to break up the fight.

"You're lucky I didn't break your face," Charles spat, feeling the marshals drag him away. He glanced over his shoulder to see (L/N) mirroring his glare. He watched her lips twist into a scowl before she was taken out of his sight.

"We're sorry about that crash, Charles," A reporter sighed, shaking her head as she gave him a look of sympathy.

"I'm sorry for (L/N) for the next few races," Charles bit back, knowing that he was going to give it his all during the next race. 𝙈𝙖𝙭 𝙑𝙚𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙚𝙣

A championship battle would've been much easier to win over an argument with (Y/N) (L/N). Max had figured that out the hard way. He had the fastest lap and was just about ready to overtake (L/N) when she had suddenly divebombed randomly into him, forcing him into the barriers. Max was beyond just pissed, he was fuming. He had never felt such strong rage in a very long time, and as he hopped out of his car with the help of the marshals, he knew he was about to start a war back at the garage. He had dropped his gloves onto the floor, shoved the helmet onto the ground before ripping off his balaclava with one intention in his mind: sort out whatever bullshit (L/N) kept bringing into these races. She was only 6th in the driver standings, but she sure acted like she was 2nd and that only did little to calm Max's anger. He had marched over to her team's garage much to the chagrin of those with him at Red Bull Racing.

"So, are we letting blind people race now?" Max barked, and he watched (L/N) crane her neck to get a good look at the man approaching her. She stood her ground, crossing her arms with that cocky look on her face. It drove Max wild looking at her, he hated her guts.

"Listen, it just happens. My bad," She put her hands in the air, taking a step back as she noticed Max losing his mind.

"Just happens? Just... happens? Seriously? Are you fucking stupid? That shouldn't be happening! I have a championship to win and you just ruined it for me!" "Hey, I DNF'd too. We're both in the same boat," (L/N) exclaimed.

"I'm fighting for the championship, you're fighting to secure your seat for the next season because you are nothing but shit!" Max hissed which earned a couple gasps from those at the garage. Within seconds he was dragged back to Red Bull Racing's garage, but he couldn't help but notice the smirk on her face. A part of him wondered if she did it on purpose. After all, (Y/N) (L/N) had nothing to lose at the moment so it wouldn't surprise him. He sank down onto a chair, impatiently tapping his foot as he watched the race continue without him.

He couldn't wait to wipe that smirk off her face next time.

[warpedpuppeteer]

It would be great if they talk about how Buck thought his relationship woes would be "fixed" because he finally figured himself out as bi and that was the answer he was always looking for but that was only just one part of the journey.

Buck's problem with relationships is that he's always taking cues from his partners and course correcting by making unhinged proposals (like moving in) whenever he gets something wrong or thinks he can "prove" his love (or prove he can fall in love with them in the future).

He's never fully himself in any of his relationships. He's always playing the part of what his partners need (service top buck truthers this one's for you). Being an emotional pillar for Abby or a protector for Ali for example.

Even in his first relationship with a man, instead of exploring and having fun, Buck was operating in the assumption that he needed to be a long-time partner material and that it's just like any other relationships he's been in. Hence, the invite to move in with him.

And to be fair to Buck, gender really doesn't matter to him because it's like...okay it's a little bit different but it's still the same in that it's a relationship and it's someone he's interested in. So really, for him, his sexuality isn't where his issues lie.

In all his previous relationships, it's been more about him changing than being himself. He stepped in with Abby, he compromised with Taylor, he was philosophical/spiritual with Natalia, he was discovering a new aspect of his identity with Tommy etc.

And Buck is fantastic in that he's always willing to learn things about himself. He was always capable of being all of this for someone but he just needed time and experience to bring these sides out of him.

Now this would be great except...all his previous partners reacted adversely to these changes. He got too emotionally attached to Abby when she really only wanted the part of Buck that was fun and flirty. Ali liked Buck being strong & protective until she realized that he would risk his own life in being a protector even for strangers.

Taylor liked that Buck was thrilling and exciting until she realized that he had morals he won't compromise on. Natalia was so very interested in Buck's experience with death until Buck was more focused on living. Tommy liked that Buck was newly bi and curious but stepped back once he realized that Buck was taking this very seriously.

Instead of embracing all the changes Buck was going through, his partners almost wanted the Buck they fell for originally. Kind of like...they fell in love with the IDEA of Buck rather than Buck himself.

So Buck actually needs someone who knows him as Buck in his entirety. Someone who likes Buck as he is but also likes him even as he changes and grows. Someone who Buck shows his true self to instead of adapting to his partner's needs.

Take me as I am, flaws and all. Take me as I am, and as I will be.

Not only does he need to realize that he doesn't have to shove his own needs/wants into the background but also that he needs a partner who will not expect anything more from him than he can give. When he does realize this, that's when Buck is truly free of the hamster wheel.

Of course, i can go on about who exactly is the perfect partner for Buck but instead, here are a few quotes that's very important in showing who it is :)

"you're the guy who likes to fix things"

"just do what you always do, talk to him"

"you think you're expendable but you're wrong"

"now am i allowed to ask how you are?"

"once he knows that you're an idiot, he'd love you, like we all do!"

"there's nobody in this world i trust with my son more than you"

"i forgive you...just don't do it again"

And the most damning of them all:

"you don't have to be anything for anybody"

[sirtouchstarved]

FUCK

FUck I had like. I literally shrieked. I'm like vibrating. this is turning gears in my head. oh fuck ojh fuck this is GOOD. THIS IS FUCKING GOOD.

BUDDY.

BUDDY

THIS IS FUCKING GOOD like no hang on I haven't thought of this before this is such an interesting au I am I I iiiii what whAT. I don't know why my brain chemistry Is being altered so much I'm LOSING IT

nonononokjnjoinijoinnjoninj0oinj bnjbnjinjjoinjnjinjjinj holy fuck sorry I'm having a breakdown I'm losing it this is making me think think think think a lot. I am thinking about this I am plotting I am scheming someone help me I literally just finished writing a 33k word fanfic a few days ago PLEASE-

I see your “Bill and Ford go to therapy together” and I raise you “Ford being the therapist”

[arc-misadventures]

nnn: rin

NNN: RI

Rin: Okay... What's with this... intervention?

Rin: And, more importantly, why am I tied to a chair?!

Pyrrha: Rin... You know we love you...

Nora: And, that we care for you...

Rin: Thank you...?

Pyrrha: And, we know you've been having a hard time...

Nora: And, that this is usually a guy thing...

Pyrrha: But, because of your recent interests...

Rin: W-What interests?

Nora: You porn tags...

Rin: Wait, what?!

Pyrrha: We thought it best to hold an intervention...

Rin: Nora! Did you hack my phone again?!

Nora: We're doing this for your own good...

Rin: Doing what?!

Pyrrha: As of right now, November 1... You, Lian Rin are here by doing the, No Nut November challenge!

Rin: What?! Why do I have to do that?!

Nora: Cause you're thirsty girl!

Rin: What?

Pyrrha: You're lusting for our team leader has gotten out of hand.

Nora: Seriously girl, you got issues.

Pyrrha: And, we understand, we all are in love with, Jaune...

Nora: And, really want to bang him!

Pyrrha: Massively so! But, you... you have issue girl...

Rin: What issues?

Pyrrha: Nora... the evidence...

Nora: The EVIDENCE!

Rin: Oh no... the evidence...

Nora: Exhibit A: The Porn Tags!

Rin: Oh no! The evidence?!

Nora: Ahem! We have the following tags: Male on Female. Straight. Asian. White. Human. Blond. Brunette. Cumshot. Creampie. Breeding...

Rin: Oh gods...

Nora: There are more, many more tags that can be mentioned, but those just display how she wants, Jaune to take her.

Rin: H-How do you know it's about, Jaune it could be about any blond?

Pyrrha: Nora...

Nora: Exhibit B! The Photos~!

Rin: W-What...?!

Pyrrha: She has photos of, Jaune?

Nora: A lot of photos... Ohhh~!

Pyrrha: What's, ohh? Oh! Ohhh~!

Nora: Oh, Jaune looks good when wet~!

Pyrrha: Ohh~! Look at those glistening abbs~!

Nora: Oh mommy liky~!

Rin: Hey! Give those back! Or, at least let me see them too...

PN: NO!

Rin: Nawww...

Pyrrha: Ahem!

Pyrrha: Because of this... and, your overall desire to sleep with, Jaune, to do... certain things that we will not attempt until at least we graduate, Beacon!

Nora: We?

Rin: We~?

Pyrrha: We are forcing you to do, NNN! And, if you fail you will not be allowed to have sex with, Jaune a month to the day you failed!

Rin: What, no?!

Pyrrha: But, if you succeed you can... can...?

Nora: You play out your number one fantasy with, Jaune!

Rin: REALLY?!

Pyrrha: But, on the pill! You're too young for that missy!

Rin: Oh... okay...

Pyrrha: Good! Nora, release the prisoner!

Nora: Was it too tight, Rinny?

Rin: A little... I don't understand how, Ruby could be into that...

Nora: Ruby's into what now?

Jaune: Uhh girls...?

NPR: Yes, Jaune~?

Jaune: Uhhh... I need some help... n-n-now please...

Pyrrha: What's wrong?

Jaune: Someone spiked the punch bowl at Ruby's birthday party... probably, Yang all things considering... But, uhhh... it... it wasn't with alcohol...

Nora: What does that mean?

Jaune: It... It means...

NPR: ...?

Jaune: It means this...

Nora: Oh...

Pyrrha: My...

Rin: Gods...!

Jaune: Uhh... a little help...?

NPR: ...

Pyrrha: Rin?

Rin: Y-Yes...?

Pyrrha: The challenge starts tomorrow.

Rin: Fuck ya! Come here you!

Jaune: Whoa hey?!

[mr-ys-phantasma]

🌙 Moon Phases 🌙

Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1359

Chapter 41:

Now, with Jen out of the way, only Billy, Agatha, and you were left in the room. It was still unknown what this trial truly was and if the Road had chosen to just speed it up and end it right now.

Technically, once the green witch would have her trial; the road would end. Not everyone had to be trialed. At least it didn't last time.

Now... you were not so sure.

"This can end right here, right now." Agatha suddenly said as she sat down in a meditating position.

"How?"

You frowned, but as you locked eyes with your lover, you could almost read her thoughts. "By helping you next. Helping you find Tommy."

Agatha smiled faintly at your quick thinking and your keen ability in connecting the dots. She then patted the spot in front of her while looking at Billy.

"Come. Sit Down."

Billy did not seem to fully believe her. "What?"

Agatha remained patient. "That's what you want, right? Tommy isn't waiting out there. Not in a body, anyway. That's what got Rio in such a tizzy. She knows you could do it for him."

"Do what?"

"Give him another life! Another spin around the dance floor."

This got Billy interested, and he ended up sitting on top of his folded legs right in front of Agatha, desperation and undying hope glowing within his dark eyes.

"You think I can bring him back?" He questioned. "I don't know how I did it."

It was your turn to smile weakly as you moved to sit behind Billy. "You never do. That's the fun in it. " You folded your legs and leaned on the heels of your feet to keep some height.

Billy looked at you above his shoulder, surprised by your close proximity and the fact that he didn't know what you were planning to do; worried him.

Sure, you did not have any foul means in the end like Agatha, but you were a fully powered up witch with some impressive skills in your arsenal.

"Time to grow up." Agatha said, drawing his attention. "And don't worry about Y/N. She will help since... well, I don't have my powers back yet. "

In the end, Billy obeyed with some hesitation. He gave you one last look, trying to gain courage from your reassuring smile.

"It's okay, Billy. We can do this," you told him and motioned for him to focus back on Agatha. "Close your eyes and remember... remember your last moments with Tommy."

Billy closed his eyes and tried to take a few deep breaths while he explored his messy and divided mind for what he was looking for.

"I don't remember anything." He confessed.

Agatha looked at you, a silent signal to give him a little boost.

You took a deep breath and concentrated, white magic gathering gently in your palms. You were more confident with this, for you had done it in the past.

Using magic to help trigger a memory was a skill Agatha had helped you practise, offering herself as your guinea pig until you got it right.

It scares you at first, fearing you might hurt her, but she had remained fully trusting in you; knowing you would do it.

You closed your eyes and placed your hands close to Billy's temples, not touching his skin. Your white magic came alive and moved in gentle waves towards his head, bypassing any natural barrier they met.

"You were ten. You lived in Westview. You and your brother." Agatha started as you used your magic to jog his memory, a more subtle way of the trick she used on Wanda back the.

Billy was trying trying hard to remember. He didn't register when your magic started to affect him. He didn't have time to focus on it as his memory started to get jogged. "I was... about to fall asleep. I realize I'm breathing at the same time as Tommy. He's not snoring, but... It's heavy enough to listen to. It's nice. That feeling when your body knows it's safe."

Agatha hummed faintly in approval. "Breathe with him. Breathe." She guided him.

His breathing became even, and if you were not focusing on controlling your magic, you would have smiled with pride.

The little silence didn't last long as Billy started to sweat faintly, eyes twitching behind closed eyelids and a could almost feel the intensity of huss sunbconisous travel as it passed through your magic.

"The sound of him. It stops because everything else does." He exclaimed, a single finger faintly twitching.

"It's your mother folding her world. That's okay. It's okay." Agatha reassurd him. "You keep breathing. Even if you can't hear him, you don't have to open your eyes to know how close he is. Breathing together. You breathe for yourself. You breathe for him. You breathe for everything he is. You hold it all inside of you. But it can't stay there. The memories. The feelings. You can't keep them." Billy started to twitch more, his mind fighting him as the experiences and his emotions were becoming too much.

You had to open your eyes and look at Agatha with worry, feeling the inner turmoil within the boy. You felt sorry for him, not able to even imagine the traumatic experience he had been going through.

However, you were also worried that he might break from this meditation and attempt to see how much he was fighting it. If he did, you doubted there would be enough time to start again and help him.

Agatha seemed to share your thoughts, for she chose to act. She placed her hands above yours and forced them to press against his temples.

The sudden move shocked you, but you immediately had to close your eyes and keep control, his emotions and the connection you subtly shared due to your magic threatening to overwhelm you as well.

You took a few deep breaths and tried to focus on Agatha's warm hands, bigger and softer; cupping your own. They were trying to help with whatever remnants of magic she had taken from Alice and whatever her own strong will could do.

And so, the two of you worked together to encourage Billy to help him keep going now that he was so close to the end.

"Keep your eyes closed no matter what. You can't keep him. So where does he go?" Agatha asked, trying to focus as well and gain any kind of connection through your magic as well.

"I don't know!" Billy said in panic.

"Find him a place."

"It's black. There's nothing. He floats. He looks down... He's afraid." His pants grow deeper, louder, and you can feel the beads of sweat forming on his forehead and rolling by the side of his temples; getting stopped by your hands.

At the same time, above you, the lights keep turning off one by one; unevenly.

"But he has you with him now." Agatha reminded Billy.

"I can't find a place."

"Don't give me that. 120 bodies empty out every minute. Find one."

Billy was quiet for a few seconds, and that made you worried, but you did not dare to break your concentration, fearing for the worst.

At last, he started to speak again, and his words brought hope within your chest.

"It's underwater! There's a boy. It's a prank. They tricked him. He's gonna drown. It's a bad place." He informed, in his mind, being able to feel and see everything as if he was suffering them himself.

"It usually is."

"And the people, the family, there's no one to love him! He's got no one!" You caught faintly his hands glowing blue as his magic worked. "Agatha, am I killing this boy so my brother can live?"

Billy screamed as he successesded on the task, the lights above flickering. A crack on the cement appeared between Agatha and him, and in the very next second, he had disappeared from the room; never getting an answer and just leaving you and Agatha behind...

Once again, the two of you at the very end of the road.

Chapter 42