#One Lost Star sequel

[bluemoon1331]

I am so abuzz with the Lich King AU right now, I have the entire f*cking plot, I want to write it so bad, but I am also heavily invested in SM and the 10 other WIPs in the background already hahahaha I love my brain

[whoa-axel-chill]

more tlb headcanons because my head is screaming at my fingers to type them

-Edgar, along with having the infinite amount of allergies mentioned in my last post, has a terrible immune system, like bro is sick almost every other week.

-Michael died once. When he was like 9 he hit his head on a railing and died for about a minute. For a few months after, Sam would drag him away from that spot if he ever saw him go near it, and even when he got older and almost completely forgot about the whole thing he still felt uneasy around it.

-Unlike Edgar, Alan only gets sick every year or so, and when he does, he feels like death and can't get up for like a week, it's really bad.

-The squad (or whatever you guys call them I'm more active with AMB content so I'm not familiar with group terms) are pretty much flat broke. Any and all money they have they either find or take off the people they kill, and even if they kill some random rich person, it's really not a lot.

-A more angsty one now, the Frog parents sometimes just forget they have sons. Like they recognize them but they're so whatever they even are they just can't find it in their brain what their relationship is to them.

-The Frogs' comic store is one of the few businesses on the boardwalk that lets girlscouts sell cookies outside. One; they really don't know how they would go about NOT letting them and two; cute little girls + cookies + outside their store = more business probably.

-Stole this from a fic I read a while back on AO3, Sam has a very specific schedule but only in some aspects of his routine, like breakfast time or going for a walk down the street. If he misses the time he's supposed to do these things, he just won't do them.

-Along with having many, many 'pet' pigeons, Marko also has a lot of rats, he has names for all of both species.

-Lucy is very mom-like (idk how to describe it) specifically with Sam which embarrasses him and he thinks the Frogs judge him for it, but in reality that's just how their faces look and they're actually jealous.

-Alan is kind of like a cat?? He only warms up to certain people, he hates being wet, he's easily distracted (like if you pulled out a laser pointer he might become subtly very interested in it), he'll either be very happy with being touched or very annoyed with no indication of which outcome will happen, etc.

-For the sake of any Michael-vampire relationships not being really weird, all of them were either turned recently OR as well as not aging physically, they don't age mentally either, however that would work.

-Despite the fear of blood thing, Sam's favorite thing to have on in the backround when he's doing something are cop shows. Most every episode there's a new plot, so you can follow while also not really following I'm not projecting you are.

-Nobody knows where grandpa Emerson gets half of the things he uses for taxidermy. He gave a taxidermy dog to the Widow Johnson. A dog. We don't talk about that enough, like, pause, am I the only one that noticed that? That was a dog, right?? Am I crazy????

-The Frog brothers are both pretty decent artists.

-Sam is into a lot of kind of dorky stuff and Edgar actually pretends to be interested for him.

-Edgar and Alan both have various scars on their hands from sharpening stakes or stuff like that.

-Sam has been 'banned' from the comic store, like, 16 times for various things, a few you might be surprised by.

-Even when not, like, crazy vampire mode thing, Marko has weirdly sharp teeth. You can't notice it when looking at him, but he does bite people just for fun and they do feel it.

[iamenits]

[...] indeed, he had accepted Spock's decision to pursue Kolinahr with grace and compassion. "Maybe those Kolinahr folks have the right idea. Maybe we'd all be better off without emotions." To his astonishment, Spock found himself repressing a fond inward smile at the mental sound of the doctor's voice. Impossible; he had relived the memory completely many months ago, had used the mind-control techniques to banish all emotion associated with Leonard McCoy. And yet … affection for the doctor stubbornly persisted.

Recovery by J.M. Dillard (1995)

[mariocki]

Play for Today: The Flipside of Dominick Hide (BBC, 1980)

"Complacent with your mission, Dominick? Amusing, the history of transport. We've made a modicum of progress: trips are regulated to microseconds, punctuality taken for granted."

"Yes."

"Why then were you two minutes late on your double return? Machine fault?"

"No. I'm sorry."

"I accept apology. Reason?"

"It was raining. Rain slows everything. I saw an old woman knocked down and I was checking how long before help reached her. The medi-car was blocked in progress, I think she died."

"So?"

"I thought it might be interesting."

"People are not your conspectus, Dominick. If you wish to study people, watch old films."

[redbean-nom]

finally watched force awakens (because the orchestra was playing the score live) and. I am now more confused.it feels like i got up for a snack break and missed half the movie but apparently i did not

[mommymothma]

In the home stretch of the Ahsoka show release, and I am EXTREMELY excited. I get teary-eyed just thinking about it because there is still so much pain and uncertainty in her storyline that I haven't quite gotten closure on, and maybe you feel the same. So, in the spirit of that, here's a piece that provides some closure in at least one aspect of Ahsoka's life.

The Light of Naboo

Ahsoka hadn't been here in a long time.

It was wracked with war, and when it wasn't, it was worse.

The guilt she felt just stepping onto the moist grass. 

Hera and Sabine hung back, respecting her boundaries.

"I'll be fast" she promised them.

Word had spread across the galaxy that the Sith Lord made infrequent trips to Naboo. He would storm into the palace, eliminating anyone who so much as breathed in his direction. 

He would disappear into the crypt for hours on end. 

Even when the palace crumbled. 

Ahsoka stood outside of what was left. Debris scattered the painted cobble streets. The dust never seemed to settle. 

Even the most lively places had felt the fist of the empire. 

It took her a while to find any type of passage or hall. She was going off of memory, and she hadn't been here enough to have it memorized. 

But the force helped with that, she could feel when she was close. Almost like she was being called to. 

She used the force to remove some blockage, eventually revealing a damp staircase into the ground.

She was sure that this, too, was once grande.

Naboo never took shortcuts on anything,it was their fault their cities beauty was decimated by war. 

She wondered how much of the damage was attributed to Anakin alone. He had destroyed so much trying to keep her alive, he erased any chance she had at being remembered. 

It led her down, and down again. 

The stairs never seemed to end, or perhaps she was going to slow. 

Her feet were heavy, and she felt more tired as she descended. 

She had faced many hard realities in the last twenty years. But it never got any easier. 

Finally, light scattered across the cement floor. Dust illuminated in the air. She looked to her left, a large stained glass window depicting a sunrise, people of the overworld and people of the water. Light from the sun-splattered ocean beamed through, casting the roof in an array of colors. 

Ahsoka kept walking, glancing at the names and symbols accompanying each coffin. She didn't recognize any of them. In her entire time of being alive, she had only known one Queen of Naboo.

And her crypt was at the very end. 

It seemed simple to Ahsoka. It was beautiful, but she had expected Anakin would have it immortalized in the finest ores. 

But perhaps Padmè wouldn't have wanted that.

It was simply stone. A stained glass window above it casted her silhouette in bright colors. The ocean beyond the glass refracted the light so elegantly, Ahsoka had to hope the architect was beyond proud of their work.

Padmès was noticeably less dusty than the others down here, but she still used a small amount of force pressure to brush it off. 

She took a knee next to it. And closed her eyes. 

"It's over, Padmè." She whispered. "Your son, and your daughter… they saved me. They saved the galaxy. Just like Obi-wan thought."

She placed a hand delicately onto the stone. 

"You'd be so proud of them. Luke is… he's so much like you. He's gentle, and his eyes are so kind. He's patient, but inspired. He gets things done, he never sits still…. He would make Senator Amidala proud." 

She smiled as she spoke, well aware of the tears pushing against her eyes.

"And Leia… she's so much like Anakin. Every time I see her it's like he's in the room with me. She's fiery, and feisty. She's gone through so much, but she doesn't let it stop her. She fights everyday, even after the war, to obtain what she believes in. Luke is going to train her, and I… I can't wait to see what she can do. The force is so strong with her Padme it's… it's exciting and terrifying." 

She watched as her tear cleansed a centimeter of the coffin.

"I have so much to tell you, Padmè. There's another senator, she's like you. Determined, smart… stubborn. But her intentions are good, I haven't had so much faith in the senate in a long time. You would like her, after you guys fought it out." 

She stroked the edge of the stone, her fingers tingling at the touch. 

"I'm sorry Padmè." She could barely get the words out. "I'm so sorry. I should've been there. I never should have left. If I… If I had stayed, I could have stopped him. Me and you and Obi-wan… the three of us were enough. I broke us up, and I will never forgive myself for that." 

She couldn't stop the tears anymore. She couldn't fight them. The war was over, the struggle between light and dark had subsided.

But the pain did not.

She knelt against her friend, letting the tears fall. She gasped for breath. 

She let herself scream. It was anguished. A scream that filled with pain and grief. There was no anger in it, only suffering. It bounced of the walls, and she heard it four times before it fizzled out.

She looked up at the light. It seems like it was trying to speak to her. Like it was granting it's forgiveness. But she denied it.  

"I love you Padmè." She choked. "And I really miss you. I miss all of us." She pictured herself with Padmè. And Anakin. And Obi-wan.  "You're the only family I've ever really known. And I just want you to know that… I'm really proud of you. And really proud of Luke and Leia. And I hope, one day, you can be proud of me too." 

She felt a hand on her shoulder, but when she turned there was no one there.

Still, she touched the location with her opposite hand, holding onto the sensation. 

She outstretched her free hand, using the force once again to engrave a name onto her tombstone.

Padmè Amidala

Loving Mother and Friend

[jeonginify]

find out more abt these fics here lol

[tsunodaradio]

only exception ⛐ 𝐋𝐍𝟒

there are things lando doesn’t like to do, but he supposes he can make some exceptions.

ꔮ starring: lando norris x girlfriend!reader. ꔮ word count: 2.7k. ꔮ includes: tooth-rotting fluff, romance. profanity. established relationship. ꔮ commentary box: first 1-2 finish of the year, babyyy! my co-driver @norrisradio wrote an oscar version of this here ‹𝟹 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

♫ the only exception, paramore. more time, alfie jukes. loverboy, young friend. c u girl, steve lacy. white ferrari, frank ocean. everyone adores you (at least i do), matt maltese.

LANDO DOESN’T LIKE WATCHING CARTOONS.

Or, at least, he doesn’t like watching them anymore. He’s in his mid-twenties, he’ll tell everyone. He has no reason to tune into things like The Simpsons or Wallace and Gromit. Lando thinks he has much more refined tastes nowadays, thank you very much. 

It’s why he had grumbled and kicked up a fuss the first time you tried to get him to sit down for something. Your yearly rewatch of Avatar: The Last Airbender, you’d said.

He was initially resistant. It didn’t matter how many kisses you promised him, how many hours you vowed to let him game uninterrupted. He just couldn’t bring himself to care about the first couple of episodes, and you let him go with a roll of your eyes. 

But then the stupid flying bison went missing, and Lando couldn’t help himself. 

You liked to watch in his living room, where you could sprawl out on the couch with a bowl of crisps. That made it so much easier for him to move from one room to the other, his eyes flitting a little too long on the television screen as he refilled his water bottle or came home from a quick jog. 

Lando hadn’t really tuned in for the first season— or Book 1, as you so often like to correct him— so he’s a little bit lost, but he picks up the necessary context clues. You’re so invested in it, too, despite this being your nth rewatch of your self-proclaimed comfort series. 

Every now and then, Lando will linger by the door. He’ll even throw in a comment or two. A mumbled “that Ba Sing Se shit is creepy” or an offhand “fucking Zuko,” and you would respond with small sounds of approval or dissent. 

And then he graduates to standing behind you on the couch, his hand on his hip and his gaze fixed firmly on the episode playing. He’s too stubborn to concede just yet that he’s invested, so you settle with this weird getup where Lando kind of just hovers until you call him out. 

By the time the Fire Nation’s prince joins Team Avatar, Lando has given up on feigning disinterest.

“You’re telling me she ends up with baldie?” Lando grunts disapprovingly, his arms tightening around you.

He’s referring to Katara and Aang. You had tried to keep your teasing to the minimum, not wanting to have him revert back to his whole too-cool-for-cartoons shtick. Still, you can’t help the way your lips twitch upward as you lean into Lando’s side. 

“She does,” you say absentmindedly. The Ember Island Players episode is playing, depicting some bastardized version of the main characters’ love lives. “There’s a sequel to this one where they talk about their married life a bit.” 

“There’s a sequel?” Oh, you love it— Lando’s voice pitching slightly higher with enthusiasm, then his attempt to hide it by clearing his throat and repeating, voice suddenly deeper, “I mean, there’s more?”

“Mhm,” you hum. “We can binge The Legend of Korra after this one.” 

Lando doesn’t say anything more. He locks right back into the Avatar episode, but you can feel that excitement thrumming through him like a current. 

Alright, so— maybe Lando likes to watch some cartoons. 

LANDO DOESN’T SET MORNING ALARMS. 

Being jolted awake is the worst feeling in the world for him. His years of conditioning had made it easier for him to adapt his body clock to whatever he needed it to be, without the help of a phone blaring some grating tune. 

He knows how to wake up at any given time. It’s one of the things you’ve teased him about, being the heavy sleeper that you are. 

Nowadays, though, Lando sets two alarms. 

You don’t know about them. How could you? He’s always up before you, hoping to get a run in before the sun has risen, or needing to jet off for work at absurd hours. You’re used to waking up to his empty side of the bed. 

When he remembers, he leaves something. A crude doodle on a scrap of paper with a dozen x’s and o’s. A misshapen attempt at a towel animal, inspired by whichever country he had been in last. 

For the most part, though, it’s the indent of his body in the mattress and the lingering scent of him in the sheets. 

Here’s what you don’t know— 

The first alarm is set 15 minutes before he actually has to get up. It’s set on a low vibrate, just enough to rouse Lando to consciousness. 

Half-asleep, he’ll reach over to find your sleeping form. The two of you tended to toss and turn in your sleep, making it so that he’d sometimes wake up to you on the far end of the bed or facing away from him. 

Whatever it is, Lando holds you. He spends the aftermath of that first alarm cuddling into you, whether it’s his chest to your back or his head buried in the top of your head. Nowadays, it’s become a habit; enough that he sometimes finds himself doing it to hotel room pillows whenever he’s off at races. 

Sometimes, he spends the fifteen-minute gap waking up. Most times, he drifts back into sleep, but with the knowledge that his touch is a little more intentional now. 

When his second alarm goes off, he’ll press a kiss to your forehead and peel away— facing the morning with the knowledge that he has you for one more day. 

LANDO DOESN’T LOSE. 

He has spent his entire life competing, so it’s practically instinct at this point. When a challenge is laid out before him, he has to win. No ifs, no buts, no second-place podiums. It’s the kind of thing that bleeds into every aspect of his life— from serious things like his career, to absolutely ridiculous things like who can brush teeth faster in the morning.

“No need to pout, baby. What are you so mad about?” Lando taunts as he leans back against the couch. The Mario Kart results screen is still flashing on the television, bright and damning.

His name in first place; yours, a distant fourth.

“I’m mad because you’re a cheat,” you accuse with a dejected sniffle, your grip tightening on the controller. 

Lando gasps and presses a hand to his chest. “I would never.” 

“You so did.” As he expected, you’re already slamming buttons to bring the two of you back to the selection screen. “One more round.” 

He purses his lips, attempting to hide the shit-eating grin threatening to break on his face. “You sure you wanna lose again?” he asks innocently. 

You don’t dignify him with an answer, already selecting your character with newfound determination. Lando, for his part, grins like an absolute menace. He spins his joystick as if he’s warming up for battle, his attention divided between you and the game. 

Lando doesn’t lose. But sometimes, he lets you win.

Not in a way that makes it obvious, because his ego is much too big for that. He plays it smart. He’ll take the lead for most of the race, just enough to keep you engaged, to keep your frustration bubbling. Then, right at the last second, he’ll “accidentally” mistime a drift. Maybe he’ll take a turn just a little too wide, letting you zoom past him in a blur of victory.

He does it because he likes the look on your face when you win— the way your eyes light up, the way you throw your hands in the air like you’ve just conquered the world. It’s the same way you look at him after a good race weekend when he’s standing on the podium, champagne dripping from his curls.

It’s a look he wants to keep earning, over and over again.

So when you finally cross the finish line ahead of him, when the words 1st Place appear over your character, Lando groans in exaggerated frustration, dragging a hand down his face.

“Nooo,” he whines. “I had that in the bag.” 

He’s not about to earn any Oscars for his performance. He knows that much. You’re gracefully oblivious, though, and you’re grinning like this is some grand prix instead of a lazy Saturday afternoon. 

“In your face, loser!” you cry, launching yourself at him in celebration. 

Lando lets out an oof as you land half on his lap, half on the couch. Your arms fling around his neck. He laughs, warm and fond, and presses a quick kiss to your shoulder. “Don’t get too cocky,” he warns. “Best two out of three, twerp.” 

He’ll actually try this time, he swears. But he’ll keep throwing every other match if it means seeing you smile like the game isn’t the only thing you’ve won. 

LANDO DIDN’T REALLY CARE ABOUT THE MUSIC HE LISTENED TO. 

His brief stint picking up DJ-ing as a hobby had proved that he cared mostly for house music, the kind of pulsing beats that made for a good night out. Other genres, though? He never really gave them much thought. He was content shuffling through whatever was trending, never attaching any particular emotion to the songs he played.

That is, until you gifted him a Spotify playlist for when he was away.

It had been a simple thing. Just a shared link and a text message that read: For long flights and hotel rooms. So you don’t forget home.

He hadn’t expected much. But then he found himself listening to it across a dozen different countries. 

Your playlist became his soundtrack while stretching at the gym in Bahrain, watching the rain streak down his hotel window in Japan, lying awake with jet lag in Miami. The songs you chose weren’t just good; they were you. A mix of things he recognized from car rides with you, songs you’d hum absentmindedly while doing the dishes, melodies that reminded him of mornings tangled in bed.

And so Lando gets an idea. 

He’ll make you a playlist, too.

He thinks he’s absolutely rubbish at it, thoughts. He agonizes over every song choice, wondering if it fits, if you’ll like it, if it says enough without saying too much. His Notes app is filled with half-written ideas— Do I put that one song from our first road trip? Too cheesy? What about the song that’d played at the café of our first date? Which one was that, even? 

He changes the order a dozen times before finally forcing himself to stop, heart hammering as he prepares to give it to you. 

It’s stupid. He’s being stupid. This isn’t some wedding proposal or anything; it’s literally just a collection of songs. He half-expects you to laugh when he presents it to you, shoving his phone into your hands with a muttered, "Made you something. It’s probably shit."

But you don’t laugh.

You scroll through the playlist slowly, taking in each title. Then, to Lando’s surprise, your eyes well up, and you blink rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

“Hey— hey, what’s wrong?” he panics, immediately regretting everything. “Is it that bad?” 

Damn it, he’s thinking. Probably should’ve booted that one Post Malone song. 

You shake your head, pressing your lips together to keep them from wobbling. “No, it’s just…” You sniffle, smiling up at him with something so unbearably soft that it makes his chest ache. “You made me a playlist.”

Lando exhales. “Well, yeah. You made me one first.”

“You made me a playlist.” You repeat the words like they mean something more, something bigger. And maybe they do.

He shifts, rubbing the back of his neck. “Dunno. Guess I kinda like music now,” he says, suddenly a bit shy. 

You’re on him in the next minute, the force of your kiss sending him reeling. He laughs against your mouth even as you mumble something like shutupshutupshutup. He holds your face in his hands, his thumbs wiping away your happy tears, and he resolves to make you a dozen more of these little collections. 

Somewhere, his phone screen is still lit, the title of the playlist staring up at the ceiling.

For when I’m home.

LANDO NEVER SAW THE APPEAL IN JOURNALS. 

Pen and paper never really meant much to him. He wasn’t the type to jot things down, wasn’t one for sentimental scribbles. Nobody else probably expected it of him, either.

Which is why the media nearly combusts when, during a post-race broadcast, the camera catches Lando hunched over a spiral wirebound in the garage. He’s seen scribbling something with uncharacteristic focus, and then he’s tucking the notebook away like it’d never happened. 

People on Twitter are quick to speculate. One viral tweet claims it’s Lando’s Death Note, where he’s listing the names of all the drivers he decimated at the day’s qualifying session. 

By the time media obligations roll around, it becomes part of Sky Sports’ list of queries. Once the usual stuff is all ran through, the interviewer pounces on the opportunity for a more lighthearted, humanizing angle. “So, Lando, what’s in the notebook?” the reporter asks, shoving her microphone a little closer to the driver. 

The Brit stiffens.

All around the world, people see the open surprise on Lando’s expression. The oh, shit moment where he seems to realize his ‘private’ moment had been put on full blast. 

He recovers quickly. Tries to evade by dodging the question with a joke. It’s obvious that the media isn’t going to give in, though, so by the time it’s a beIN SPORTS journalist posing the question, Lando can only sigh in defeat. 

“It’s a gratitude journal,” he admits, half-grinning. 

There’s a pause. A beat of disbelief before the interviewer laughs. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, inspired by my girlfriend waiting at home.” Lando winks straight at the camera and waves exaggeratedly. “Hi, baby!”

(You don’t find out until much later, when the clip has gone viral on TikTok. The comments are all to be expected— calling Lando a simp, claiming he’s down bad and absolutely gone. It’s equal parts amusing and mortifying.) 

The interviewer chuckles. “Well, given today’s pole position, I’m guessing that’s your number one?”

Lando’s eyebrows raise. “No,” he says, his voice tinged with disbelief. As if it’s unimaginable. “I mean, pole’s great and all, but I always have the same thing at the top of my list.” 

“Which is?” 

“Her name.” 

LANDO DOESN’T ‘GO SLOW’. 

He’s not built for it. 

It’s just not in his nature. Not when he spent his entire life learning how to push the limit, trim down lap times, find milliseconds where nobody else could. He thrives in speed, in the way his pulse thrums when he’s threading a car through corners, the rush of adrenaline when he crosses a finish line. He isn’t known for patience, either, or waiting, or any of those things that require taking his foot off the gas.

And yet. 

And yet. 

“Lando,” you say amusedly, glancing at the speedometer. “Are you seriously driving below the speed limit?”

Lando doesn’t look at you. He just shrugs, fingers tapping against the steering wheel. “Just being safe, baby.”

Your lips twitch, suspicious. You’re onto him, because of course you are. It’s embarrassing how obvious he’s become. In his defense, he never used to do this. Never used to ease into turns, never used to take the long route home, never used to pray for red lights and stop signs if it meant keeping you in his passenger seat a little longer.

But nowadays, he does.

“Baby,” you sing-song. “You do realize I live with you, right? It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

“Mm,” he hums, noncommittal.

You shake your head, but the look on your face is fond. “God, you’re ridiculous.”

Lando risks a glance at you then. His heart stumbles at the sight. 

You’re curled up in the passenger seat, eyes shining, hair mussed from where he’d flicked at it earlier. You look so impossibly soft in the glow of the streetlights, and he’s struck with the kind of certainty that rattles him down to the bone— that this, right here, is his favorite kind of drive.

His hand tightens over your thigh. “Guess you’re right,” he says with a laugh. “I am pretty ridiculous.”

Lando still lingers at the next red light. ⛐

[spaceediasporaa]

nooo but like.. what if starkiller base was an ancient weapon created by an oppressed people to free themselves from slavery.. and the resistance, republic and first order were all racing each other to find out where it’s hidden… what then???

and the machine requires someone who is force sensitive to give their whole essence to it so in preparation the first order has been capturing force sensitive children from all over the galaxy…

[redflagshipwriter]

SNITCHES THE CAT SEQUEL pt1 and masterpost

Part Two/Part Three/ Part Four/ Part Five/ Part Six/ Part Seven/ Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

Part One

“This you?”

Danny pushed the newspaper down without looking at it, revealing Sam’s shitty grin. “That lost cat is not me, no.” He rolled his eyes. They had been showing him lost pet ads ever since he got back from Gotham. “Isn’t that joke getting old, guys?” He kicked his way further into a slouch in the booth as Tucker came back with refilled drinks.

Tucker laughed, and then there was a silence. “Danny? Are you sure this isn’t you, man?” He sounded uncertain.

He felt his jaw twitch and he had to tell his friend off. “Is it that funny that there’s a sad kid out there? Honestly, guys-” Danny opened his eyes fully to roll them and then saw the lost pet ad being brandished in his face. He blinked at it. His brain did a full reboot and he reached out to take the paper. 

It looked like him, sleeping on the cushion in the batcave. Had they gotten that photo from the security footage? “It’s me.” His voice came out way too high.

Danny pulled the paper over in disbelief and realized that it was a two page ad. “Oh wow,” he said faintly. There he was, leaping across the kitchen. And there, that must have been taken by Damian when he fell asleep on the bed. There was a cat toy partially in the frame.

Sam’s snorting laughter cut off. “Uh.” She kicked him lightly under the table. “Is.. Is that little kid going to be okay?” She asked in a small voice. She sounded like she felt bad for poking fun. 

Danny felt guilty. He stared at the evidence that Robin was missing his cat terribly and felt like the biggest jackass possible. “Should I go back?” he wondered. He squirmed, pulling a foot up onto the bench to perch on. “I mean… How long does a cat live? A few years?”

“Try about twenty,” Tucker said flatly. “I feel bad too, man, but you can’t defer admission that long.”

“Though Snitches was clearly not a little kitten, so you could really just give it a couple years,” Sam mused. Both boys stared at her. She blinked. “Not that I’m suggesting you do that!” She waved her hands at them. “The longer you stay with him, the harder he’s going to take it when his pet ‘dies’,” she said with finger quotes. “You did the right thing by leaving as soon as you could.”

“Maybe we could answer it, do a photoshoot, tell him that Danny was your cat or something and he’s come home,” Tucker mused. “He’d be sad that he couldn’t have the cat, but surely it would be better than worrying the cat died, right?”

“What are you losers talking about?” Star said, giving their booth a wide berth. “You’re not hurting cats now, are you, weirdos?” She eyed them like they were gross. “It would figure.”

“Fuck off,” Sam said pleasantly. All three of them gave Star a rude gesture in unison, just like they had practiced. “That shit’s uncalled for.”

Star sniffled and turned away on her heel, cheer skirt flouncing behind her. A few moments later she clearly reached her table because the sounds of popular kid conversation got a lot louder.

“She should be a reporter,” Sam said darkly. “I would love for her to get sued for slander.” She snapped open her clutch and began applying even more black eyeliner, as if that would differentiate her from the other girls in the restaurant.

Tucker groaned and pulled his hat down over his eyes in despair. “That’s gonna be a bad rumor,” he complained. 

Danny couldn’t find it in him to care as much as he usually would. He was still stuck on the fact that Damian had put an ad in the Illinois Times. “Do you think he realized that Snitches got on a highway bus to Illinois?” he hissed, now aware that other people might be listening in. “How would he know that?”

Sam frowned. Tucker lifted his head and pulled out his phone to search. “That’s a good question,” he said to himself. He hit buttons rapidly. “Uh, same ad is in…” He trailed off. “Hold up, hold up, lemme search this backwards…” Whatever he saw had him raise his eyebrows high, look at Danny in disbelief, and then shake his head slightly. “You must be a really good cat. I'm kind of jealous.”

“What?” Danny hissed. “Just tell me.”

“Hey, hey, paws off.” Tucker moved his device further away. “Uh, this poor kid- well.” He paused. “Poor is the wrong word. He’s put ads in newspapers all the way up to Ontario and down to… Well, in Mexico at least.”

Danny and Sam stared at him in disbelief. “You’re fucking with us,” Sam said after a long moment.

Tucker silently shook his head. “There’s a nationwide Greg’s list ad,” he said grimly. “20 dollars an hour to print and staple missing cat photos to telephone poles. And a private detective’s agency on the case, asking for witnesses to come forward.”

Danny put his head in his hands. “I have to go back,” he said, haunted by the responsibility. “I can’t let him be this sad.”

“Danny, no.” Tucker said. Sam nodded her agreement. 

“…Yeah, that’s crazy,” he said unconvincingly. He gave a fake laugh. “He’ll get over it.” Danny stared into his drink, watching bubbles. Robin was not going to get over it. That kid loved hard.

“I could use 20 dollars an hour,” Tucker said in a thoughtful tone.

“No,” Sam said flatly.

Tucker shrugged, smiling slightly. “I wonder how much I’d get for bringing you back.” He shrugged theatrically. “You could send me to college, man! Don’t you want me to go to college?”

“No…” Danny said weakly. “I… Is that fraud?” Still. Money would be nice.

“Guys, no.” Sam knocked them both in the head with the pile of napkins. “You can’t do that to this little kid. He’s clearly not well.”

“Exactly,” Tucker argued passionately. “Imagine how happy he would be to get his cat back! We could reunite him with his pet!”

It was tempting. He felt, like, so bad about how sad Robin was. The little guy had been so proud of his pet. Danny could spare a few years to make a little kid happy, right? It was kind of greedy otherwise.

Danny stared at the bubbles in his drink again, really thinking it over. “I think I would have to fight crime with him,” he said dully. “That’s a minus.”

“Danny?” Sam rapped the table with her fingers. He looked up to see her pointed eyebrow raise. “What are you talking about?”

He hunched his shoulders up. “Nothing, nothing,” he lied hastily. He forgot they didn’t know. He couldn’t dox someone’s crime fighting identity, though, it would be really unfair. 

“You could buy me a house,” Tucker wheedled. Sam hit him.

[secretlyazombi3]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Dating Head Cannons (Resident Evil Men) .ᐟ

leon kennedy, carlos oliveira, chris redfield x gn! reader head cannons (separate)

๋࣭ ⭑⚝word count:  1.3k

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ SFW, fluff, gender neutral reader, just random head cannons ! no proofreading so sorry if there are mistakes ( ˶•ᴖ•) !!

---------------------------⊹ ☾ ♱ ཐི𓊆ྀི❤︎𓊇ྀིཋྀ ♱ ☽ ⊹----------------------------

Leon Kennedy .ᐟ

(post raccoon city)

╰┈➤His love language is physical touch, he tries to sneak it every chance he gets. He’ll snuggle you tight and kiss your forehead once you fall asleep before him, play with your hair, put his hand on your shoulder when you sit together, try to hold your hand whenever he’s near you. 

╰┈➤Whenever you mention feeling sick, even if it’s something as small as a headache, he’ll check your forehead temperature with his hand just to have an excuse to touch your face.

╰┈➤Although he loves physical touch, he usually waits for you to initiate it. 

╰┈➤He’s protective over you. If you have to walk around at night for any reason, he’ll be there by your side, acting like a scary guard dog. 

╰┈➤He likes taking care of you but he also likes being taken care of. He tends to neglect taking care of himself, he’s busy a lot with missions, he doesn’t eat properly, his spaces tend to get messy, he neglects his health. So, he loves it when you make him proper meals, help him tidy up, make sure he’s taking care of himself better.

╰┈➤He remembers small things, if you mention liking a certain snack you’ll suddenly see it in your guys’ pantry more often. 

╰┈➤ He likes showing off his muscles and his strength to you, not necessarily in a cocky way, but in a way to show you that he’s strong and capable of keeping you safe. (and also because he knows you like his body)

╰┈➤Definitely a fancy dinner date type of guy. He always pays the bill, he doesn’t even let you get the chance to try paying. 

╰┈➤Likes to playfully flirt with you, he’s always making stupid one liners towards you that always manages to make you smile. 

╰┈➤Doesn’t WANT to come off as overbearing, but he sometimes does. He knows that his job can bring unwanted attention to you from people trying to get to him, so he gets defensive when strangers attempt to approach you. 

╰┈➤Follows you around like a lost puppy. He’ll come into whatever room you’re in and sit besides you, not saying anything, wanting to enjoy your presence. 

╰┈➤Doesn’t over do it on pet names. He mostly will just call you by a nickname to show affection. He’ll occasionally call you babe, lovely, sunshine.

╰┈➤He knows you hate it when he leaves for long missions that drag on for weeks or longer, so he tries getting you a little gift before he comes back home. Could be a perfume/cologne you mentioned liking the scent of once, jewelry he knew you’d like, or even just a bouquet of roses and a box of chocolate. Anything to make you feel even happier when he returns. 

Carlos Oliveira .ᐟ

╰┈➤ He flirts. A lot. It’s impressive sometimes how he manages to always find a way to quip back with a flirty reply to literally anything you say.

╰┈➤He remembers your interests and will use that for date ideas. If you mention liking a certain coffee shop, he’ll ask you on a date there. If you like art, he’ll take you to an art museum or a painting class. He’ll take you out to the theater if a sequel to your favorite movie is coming out.

╰┈➤ He likes giving you more meaningful gifts. Type of guy to give you one of those gifts that show the stars alignments of the night of your anniversary date, or bring you to Build-A-Bear so you two can make a bear together. 

╰┈➤If you make him anything or get him anything, he’ll remember it forever. And tell everyone about it. You made him lunch for when he’s at work? He’s boasting about it to his coworkers, complimenting your meals and talking about how much he loves you.

╰┈➤ As for pet names, he’s not shy, he mostly goes for pet names like gorgeous, beautiful, good-looking, babe, honey, sweet thing. 

╰┈➤He’ll tease you over everything. He loves seeing your face get pink, cross your arms, get defensive over whatever he teased you over. 

╰┈➤His love languages are quality time and words of affirmations. He’ll occasionally come into whatever room you’re in to strike up a conversation. Even if it’s just small talk, he likes being around you. He constantly compliments you and your ability to do things. 

╰┈➤Pretty touchy - he likes holding your hand, keeping his arm wrapped around your waist whenever he can. He’s confident, he likes initiating kisses, and he loves giving neck kisses especially.

╰┈➤He’s confident in himself, so he doesn’t get jealous super easily. But he does get defensive when someone tries hitting on you, and he;ll size that person up. Typically his build alone is enough to scare people off.

╰┈➤He definitely likes watching action movies best, but he wants to keep things interesting for you, so he often chooses out action-romance movies for you two to watch.

Chris Redfield .ᐟ

╰┈➤Hides his emotions more than anything else. At first, you didn’t even think he was somewhat interested in you. 

╰┈➤He gets pissed easily if you mention someone treating you wrong in the past. Not at you, but at the person and the fact that something like that could even happen to someone as sweet as you.

╰┈➤Really likes looking at you. If he has to leave work early in the morning, he’ll wake up extra early to have time to just admire your beauty and enjoy how warm you felt in his arms. 

╰┈➤Definitely a “do as I say, not as I do” guy. He will not let you smoke at all, even though he does, and when he does he does it away from you. He’s scared of doing any sort of damage to you, he doesn’t want his secondhand smoke affecting you. He’s also the type of guy to run towards danger, but he will make sure you stay away from it.

╰┈➤His love language is quality time. He wants to appreciate every second with you. He works a lot, so he knows he doesn’t get to spend as much time with you as he’d like. He’s also afraid that you’d break up with him one day or suddenly decide that you don’t love him anymore and leave him, so he wants to appreciate you as much as possible. And he’s also seen many people die, lots of his men get killed. He knows that he doesn’t always get as much time with people as he wants, so he doesn’t want to have any regrets if you were to go too soon. 

╰┈➤Keeps dates simple most of the time. He’ll take you to your favorite coffee place, a walk through the park together, or take you to get a treat at the new ice cream shop nearby. He likes taking you to cat cafes, pet stores and animal shelters - you like animals and he does too. But he likes seeing your happy face when you find a cute animal more.

╰┈➤ Best cuddler ever. He’s like a big teddy bear, he keeps you warm on winter nights, he always spoons you and keeps you safe in his big arms. 

╰┈➤ He gets anxious when you’re out without him for any reason. He trusts you, he just doesn’t trust others. He knows you won’t cheat, that’s not what he’s worried about - he’s always worried someone might hurt you. So, if you’re out for long, he messages you every now and then, occasionally calling you to make sure you haven’t died since the last time you messaged him. 

╰┈➤Not the type to give you pet names. He chooses to compliment you instead - cute, sweet, precious, pretty are his favorite compliments to give you.

╰┈➤Really insistent that you take care of your health. Make sure you eat 3 meals a day, you don’t smoke, drink in moderation, eat balanced meals, etc etc. 

╰┈➤ He gets extremely protective the second you’re injured. If you get hurt, you’re the only thing that will be on his mind, he forgets everything else and suddenly becomes dead set on healing you. He doesn’t let anyone else touch you or try helping with the exception of medical professionals. 

[emacrow]

First, It was Barb was doing night checks on wayne manor cameras surveillance pt 2

Previous post pt 1

She was in a bit of awe when she saw the newest very rare exotic flower Alfred got bloom under the light of the full moon, revealing beautiful crystallized like petals blossom, only for her widening eyes to take noticed of a tiny little pixie like child to pop his little head out of the center of the flower.

His hair was unnatural white fluff like a dandelion in her opinion, eyes glowing an otherworldly green, freckles that sparkle like the stars themselves, ears a bit long and pointy, wearing a odd clothing with a needles strapped to his back, that she could barely catch in camera, the static buzzing sound from her cameras was making it a bit difficult to hear what sound the tiny little fairy boy made as he floated above zooming around the garden a bit like he was excited.

It made barb's inner child squeals, screaming, flipping her tiny princess table at the possibly of Nederland being possible.

Curious little bug, floating around like the fairies in Disney like except of the Glow pixie dust like she seen on the movies, he left a trail of blueish green light that faded away rather quickly with the way he was flying into the slightly opened kitchen's window...

Wait a goddamm minutes..

Barb immediately switch cameras to the kitchen, looking around, only to see it went through the hallway already, switching cameras again, checking the living room, the hallways, only to catch a glimpse of trail glow zooming around.

Crap crap. OK, no need to panic Barb. What do curious pixie like fairies out in the human world.. bring the season right?!, play with children like that Bell fairy did? Finds and take lost things and secretly repair lost things?..! Fairies are weak without pixie dust, they don't live long without it, each fairies has a different part of the seasons, and if you don't believe in them then they immediately die and that cause imbalance in the world without their influence unless you truly believe in fairies to bring back one fairy.(she went through a whole fairy obsession phase as a kid, she still mourns the lost of the create your fairy open world game)

The fairy must've Found a new type of pixie dust to fly without wings if she could recall that one sequel with the new pixie dusts colors thing..?

It was like a game of Where Waldo except where the little mythical fairy boy that couldn't possibly- no no barb don't think about the taboo words, if you think about it and this poor mythical being dies due to your words then the guilt will haunt you Forever.

3 hours in the catch the glimpse of the fairy boy, flying back at to his little flower holding a tiny cube of sugar, a shiny tiny object that she can't get a clear of, and a plump blueberry the size of his little head as he lands in the petals that were closing around him. Crystallized back close as if to guard this little fairy being with its own life.

Right when the full moon glimpse was gone out of the sight of the garden from the sky when the smog cloud from the city covering once more.. Barb is writing that down in her notes..

Part 3 link Here <-

[cressidagrey]

Looked to the Sky - Chapter 15

Summary: 

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

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

Warnings: 

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

Elain Bashing and without @k-godling this would have never happened.

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

Azriel was in Eira's bed. Between a quilted coverlet, white and florals, making a pattern that formed stars, and embroidered pillow shams, edged with lace. He felt out of place, surrounded by the soft beauty of her work, even when she had curled herself together in his arms, short nails gently scratching his scalp.

He was exhausted; physically, mentally, emotionally…he was utterly depleted, and it was only being in her soft bed, with her soft body pressed against his that made him able to relax at all.

He was laying on his back, with Eira curled up against his side, her head against his chest and her fingers in his hair, and he’d never felt more content.

His chest was rising and falling evenly, his breathing steadier and calmer than it’d been in a while. His eyes were closed, the tiredness and exhaustion making it almost hard to even keep them open.

Azriel shifted the wing she was half lying on, wrapping it around her, and Eira laughed softly but didn't even try to shift away.

Her soft chuckle was a soothing sound, like a balm to his soul. Her body tensed slightly against him with her laugh, but she didn’t move, her body practically melting against his when his wing cocooned her along with his arms.

It felt peaceful…calm, and it soothed the ache within him in a way nothing else could. Her body was a warm, comforting weight against his, her hair against his chin and chest, and the feeling of her fingers gently playing with his hair almost like a lullaby.

“You’re going to fall asleep,” she whispered, her voice soft and quiet. He could feel her breath against his chest, and it was the only thing to tell him she’d spoken, her words so gentle they were almost lost in the stillness.

“This is nice…” he murmured, his voice soft and sleepy and almost a croon, as he held her a bit tighter to him, his wing shifting around her, to hold her even closer.

There was a shifting, a moving of position, and then the next thing he felt was a kiss on his chest and the feel of her body pressed even closer to his.

“Rest then,” she whispered, and her voice was so soft, so soothing. “I’m not going anywhere.”

She started humming softly, singing just like she did for Nyx. And Azriel did fall asleep, just for a little while.

He woke up when razor-sharp claws scrambled up his leg and he watched with amusement how Snow made herself at home on his stomach, happily laying there, making Eira laugh silently, her giggles shaking him. He reached out to touch the tiny kitten with a broad, scarred finger and she purred softly as he petted her. 

“As long as she gets attention, she is happy,” Eira recounted with a snort, pressing a kiss against his cheek and he chuckled, the sound raw in his throat. 

A knock at the door, made him freeze. It's just the High Lady, the shadows assured him, just as the door was pushed open.

"Eira?"

The bed creaked slightly, as Eira pushed herself up off of his chest. He had to fight not to pull her back, his arms still tight around her, and against his will, he loosened his hold on her, though not by much.

"It's just Feyre," Eira soothed, her voice so soft, and quiet, as she looked back down at him.

"Sorry to barge in like this," Feyre said, her voice quiet though he could still hear it. "Are you two...alright?"

He sat up, carefully not to hit Eira with his wing accidentally. "We are fine," Eira promised, her voice warm, slipping her hand into his. "Everything is alright."

There was a slight pause, and he could practically see the assessing gaze Feyre was no doubt giving him at that moment.

"You sure? " Feyre asked, and he heard the disbelief in her words. "Because you look...rough."

“We had a talk," Eira said, her voice even. "Did you already write to him?"

He couldn't help the growl that burst out of his throat at that. Eira didn't even flinch. He heard Feyre suck in a breath, clearly startled by his reaction, even as he felt Eira's fingers grip his a bit tighter as if to remind him.

"No," Feyre said, her voice still laced with possibly a hint of…worry? "Rhys and Mor are still talking about what the best way to go about it is. They have a draft now, if you want to read it...Are you two hungry? You haven't really eaten."

He was hungry. But there was only one thing he currently wanted to eat and that was sitting next to him. 

You should eat, the shadows pressed.

Eira was still looking at him, and the look on her face was so soft and tender and worried it made it so hard to deny her. "...We'll eat," Azriel agreed finally, and he saw her shoulders droop infinitesimally as if she'd been holding tension there.

"We'll be down in a few minutes," Eira said calmly.

"Don't take too long," Feyre warned, her voice dry. "Rhys is going to start prowling if you two don't show soon. "

Azriel barely stifled a snort at Feyre's words, even as he heard Eira let out a soft giggle.

"We'll be down soon,” Eira reassured Feyre. "We'll be down soon."

She waited until Feyre had left before she leaned to press a kiss against his lips. "Come on. We'll have to tell our family, don't we?" And that easy acceptance...like she didn't even need to think twice about it...not hesitating for even a moment to tell their family about their engagement, even when there wasn't a ring to show for it...

It made his heart twist in his chest, a painful yet overwhelming sort of feeling.

He couldn't help but pull her closer against him, leaning in to wrap his arms around her body, as he hid his face in the crook of her neck, his nose buried against her hair. "I don't deserve you," he whispered against her skin.

"You do. And I'll tell you that every day for the rest of our lives," Eira disagreed.

He let out a shaky exhale, his breath shuddering against her neck. The feeling of such certainty in her voice…he couldn’t help the way he shook against her, his limbs almost trembling against her as he held her.

"Let's go downstairs," Eira said, offering her hand to him.

He took her hand without protest, the idea of food a bit more palatable when it included her, with him.

His fingers clenched around her own, clutching her hand as if he was scared that if he let go she might disappear.

He heard her soft exhale at his grip, but she didn’t say a word about his hold as she tugged him off the bed after her. Her hair was mussed, her clothes rumpled from where she’d laid against him on the bed, but she simply shook out her skirt and that was it. She tugged him across the room towards the door and pulled him gently after her.

He let her pull him along, the touch of her hand the only grounding thing as his nerves twisted and his worry over what their family’s reaction might be. Would they be happy? Or would they be confused, horrified, angry?

"Nice of you to come back," Cassian drawled from where he was sitting, Nesta draped over his lap, whose grey eyes were immediately mustering Eira before they stared at him.

"We needed a nap," Eira said simply, her voice as soft and gentle as ever, as she tugged him across the room towards an empty chair, and the table full of food

"A nap?" Cassian repeated incredulously.

"A nap and a talk," Eira said with a shrug. "Tell Kleon that sadly he was too late in his offer for my hand, as I am already taken," she told Rhys, her shoulders squared, her chin stuck out.

There were several stunned looks around the room, as Feyre, Cassian, Nesta, Mor and Rhys all stared at her.

The silence was near deafening. And then Rhys let out a bark of startled laughter.

"You’re engaged then," he said, and it was a statement, not a question.

She shrugged, still standing by his side, her hand still firmly gripping his. “We are.” The certainty, the conviction in her voice made something in his chest ache.

The others were still staring, their mouths opening and closing as if trying to find the words. It was Cassian who spoke first, his voice incredulous as he looked at them both.

“You’re…engaged?” he repeated, and his words were a bit slow as if he didn’t quite believe it. “Wait, when?"

“Tonight,” Eira said simply, and her voice was unwavering, her spine straight and her chin held high, as if in a challenge ."We got engaged tonight.”

There was another moment of silence, where the room was so still it was as if no one breathed.

And then Rhys let out another bark of laughter. “Well congratulations then,” he said, his voice full of amusement. “You’ve got a hell of a mate there, Az.”

And somehow that loosened every bit of tension. There was a chorus of congratulations, as Feyre led the charge and suddenly he was swamped with hands and arms and backs slapped and hair ruffled and laughter.

And through it all, Eira stayed beside him, her hand still holding firmly to his.

"Do not mess this up," Nesta hissed at him, even as she hugged him. He heard the threat in her words, as her nails dug into his skin with her hug. And he knew without a doubt she’d make good on that threat if he did mess it up.

But instead of being fearful, in that moment…all he could be was grateful.

For this...for the family surrounding them...his mate, still holding his hand...he was just...grateful.

"No ring yet?" Mor asked. "Az, you know better than that!" she complained good-naturedly. 

He knew. He knew. He did want to get Eira a ring, a visible claim, something that everybody could see. 

"It’s being made," he rasped, and his voice was a near whisper, his guilt so overwhelming at that moment that his stomach churned.

It's not, the shadows sniped. You haven't even decided what you want!

Shut up, he hissed back, his mind filled with a mix of irritation, guilt, and agony over the fact that he hadn’t even startedlooking for her ring when it was his duty as her mate to provide her with one. But she was still holding his hand, her grip firm, as if sensing his turmoil, as if reassuring him that his lack of a ring didn’t matter to her one bit. 

"I do like pearls," Eira told him with a grin. He could only look down at her as he heard the words, a new longing filling him.

“Pearls?” he repeated hoarsely. He’d been fully prepared to start looking for rings embedded with diamonds, with rubies, emeralds, sapphires…

But pearls…he could just imagine her, with pearls against her skin, her creamy pale skin framed by the white of pearls…

"And nothing big, please," Eira continued. That had his thoughts halting, and a frown pulling at his brows.

“...nothing big?” he repeated slowly, the words leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Was she saying she wanted a smaller ring? The idea of giving her a small ring felt wrong to him. When he thought of a ring for her, he couldn’t picture anything other than a large stone, a ring encrusted with gems and gold so that everyone would look at her and know she was his.

But the more he thought about it, the more sense it made. After all, he knew Eira and the last thing she’d ever care about would be having anything impractical that she needed to constantly take off. The more delicate, the more subtle, the more unassuming a ring he got her, the better she’d like it…

But the thought of giving her a small ring felt like he was settling. Like he was disrespecting her. She was his mate, the woman he’d spend his entire life with…she should have a ring that was just as beautiful, as elegant as she was...

"Aaaaaand we lost him," Cassian quipped.

Cassian’s words broke him out of his thoughts, and Azriel scowled at his brother, only to realize…how true Cassian’s words were. He’d been so deep in thought, in contemplating the details of the ring he would get her, that he had ignored the entire conversation around him. And they were all staring at him.

The weight of their gazes had his neck heat, as he realized what he’d done.

But Eira was still holding his hand, her thumb rubbing soothing circles over the back of his palm as if to reassure him, to calm him and soothe his guilt over not having a ring for her yet.

"I was just saying that unless you want to get married tonight, signing a betrothal contract would wrap you both in enough paperwork that it makes it very clear to Kleon that Eira is utterly uninterested," Rhys said drily. "We'll simply send the Winter Court a copy."

He breathed a sigh of relief.  “Yes,” he said, his words eager, his grip on Eira’s hand unconsciously tightening as he spoke. “We should…we should do that.”

"If you think you can pay 2 cows for my sister and be done, you are sadly mistaken," Nesta said drily, making Rhys laugh.

"He doesn't even own a single cow," Rhys said with a laugh. That startled a laugh out of Azriel, and he saw Rhys, Cassian, Mor, and Feyre all struggle to hold back a grin. Feyre seemed to barely succeed in suppressing the sound, her lips quivering.

But Eira’s hand tightened in his, her eyes narrowing, but there was a hint of an amused gleam visible in them. “I am not a prize cow in need of bartering.”

Azriel had to bite his tongue to suppress a grin, the idea of his mate as a “prize cow” was both ridiculously charming and utterly absurd. “No, you’re not,” he agreed firmly, his voice rough. “You’re mine.”

"Besides, you can put whatever you want in these betrothal contracts," Mor said drily. "And it's not like they weren't oftentimes just made between families with no exact person even in mind, or that you can't put in them whatever you want. You want to put in there that Azriel forfeits his entire fortune if he does anything Eira doesn't like? You can."

"We are not doing that," Eira said sharply.

But Mor only gave her a sly smile, the gleam in her eyes sparkling. “You never know, Eira…he might just be tempted to do something stupid someday….”

"The shadows are on my side. I don't need his fortune," she gave back drily.

That startled a choked laugh out of Azriel, as he looked down at her.

“I feel like I should be insulted,” he said dryly. “Should I worry that you’d only be happy with me for my shadows and not for me ?”

Eira gave him a smile that was nearly wicked. 

“Maybe I would,” she said teasingly, and Azriel could see the gleam in her eyes, even as her fingers clenched against his side as if to hold him firmly to her. “Maybe I’ll only keep you until I can get the shadows to switch sides and become mine instead.”

His jaw almost dropped at her words, the audacity of her teasing, the hint of playfulness in her words, and he heard Cassian bark a laugh while Feyre gave a stifled giggle that sounded almost like a snort.

But he couldn’t even try to come up with a response, his mouth opening and then closing again as he tried to think of something to say…

"What do we need to do?" Eira asked Rhys. "We sign a piece of paper with our intent to marry, and that's it?"

Rhys leaned back against the back of his chair, an amused look on his face. “That’s it. It’s simple honestly. It's a blood-bound contract though."

"I don't need to drink his blood, right?" Eira asked, suddenly sounding worried.

Azriel had the sudden urge to laugh at her question, the fear in her voice at the prospect of having to drink his blood.

"No," he said, struggling to hold back a smile. "No blood drinking."

"You'll only need to prick your finger," Rhys promised with a laugh That managed to get a breath of relief out of her, and Azriel couldn’t help the urge to smile.

She was still worried, even with the simple task of a blood-bound contract. A contract that would tie them together, that would make sure that any other suitors, Kleon knew that she was spoken for, his. Her agreement to sign a contract to marry him…

He didn’t know what to think, what to feel. Just…everything, swirling together in a roiling mass in his chest.

"Paper and ink, Rhys," Azriel said, his words a near croak, strangled out past his tight throat.

Rhys’s gaze snapped to him, his eyes scanning over his face, then his lips curled into a small smile, as he nodded and stood.

"Paper and ink," Rhys repeated, his smile still firmly in place. "Coming right up."

It was the work of minutes to work out the wording, keeping it simple. 

Azriel’s hands shook slightly as he signed the contract, the words blurry in front of his eyes, his mind whirling at the reality of what he was doing.

His hand trembled as it went to his thigh to the sheath of Truthteller, and he pulled it out. He nicked the top of his thumb on the blade, letting the blood well in the cut

He let the red drop fall, watching it splatter on the paper, a thick, red smear that turned into a stain, dark and blotchy.

He’d just signed a contract, a blood-bound contract, pledging himself, promising himself to her, binding his life to hers…

He offered the pen to Eira, and his vision was tunnelled, as if the only thing his mind was capable of seeing was her slender hand, her fingers wrapping around the black ink pen as if to take hold of their future with her grip.

He held out Truthteller for her second, hilt first.  She reached out, her hand reaching for the blade, and a flicker of panic rose in him as he looked down at her, her small, beautiful, delicate hand reaching for something that could hurt her.

“Careful,” he managed to say, the word almost hoarse as he spoke, his voice rough. “You have to be careful, it’s sharp…”

She held the blade gingerly, the knife looking large and ominous in her small hands.

He watched as she studied it, a moment of hesitation clear as she stared at the blade, before pressing the tip against the pad of her index finger.

She winced, but only slightly, as she pricked her finger, a bright drop of crimson welling and then falling next to her own signature. The words around them were little more than a buzz in his ears, the only thing he could focus on was the fact that she’d done it, her signature and blood staining the paper...binding her to him.

Nesta signed next to her.

He watched as Rhys took the parchment, rolling it tight and sealing it with a wave of his own power.

"Done," Rhys said, his simple word shattering the silence that had descended around them.

Azriel had the sudden thought that he could hear his heartbeat, how it was thumping in his chest, louder than a drum in his ears. A pounding beat that echoed in his head, pounding along with three simple, perfect words in his mind.

His mate.

"That's it?" Eira made sure.

“That’s it,” Rhys said with a smile, that small, amused quirk to his lips firmly in place. “You’re officially betrothed now.”

Azriel couldn’t help the way his own lips curled up upon hearing those words, his thoughts replaying them over and over in his head.

Betrothed. Officially betrothed.

The words were like the sweetest honey to his ears.

Eira turned to glance up at him, those lovely blue eyes, flecked with silver looking up at him, her gaze curious, contemplative…and happy.

And looking at her, at the smile on her face, the happy gleam in her eyes, he realized that he’d never be able to get enough of that look, of the look of pure joy and hope on her face.

***

She was engaged.

The thought left her both giddy and scared, her heart beating a rapid tattoo against her chest.

Azriel…she was engaged to Azriel.

It was almost too much to comprehend, to even wrap her head around. 

The male she had never thought she would be able to have…the one she had fallen in love with the very first time she had seen him…

The man who made her smile and laugh, who made her feel all warm on the inside. The man who looked at her as if seeing her was more beautiful than anything in the entire world…

She was engaged, to the male who made her heart race in her chest, the male who with one look could leave her breathless and dizzy, the male who somehow looked at her like she was the most important thing in the entire world, like he’d do anything for her.

She was quite sure that she was never going to get over that.

The way he looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the entire world, the way his shadows reached out to her, the way they twined around her as if to shield her…

There was a certain amount of possessiveness in the way he held her, the way he touched her, as if he didn’t want her to ever be out of his reach.

And at the same time, there was a hint of reverence in his touch, in the way that he held her, as if he was afraid he would somehow break her if he didn’t hold her gently and tenderly...

Gods, she was getting worse than her sister’s romance novels wasn't she?

Eira didn’t know whether to laugh or not…she was being absolutely ridiculous, wasn’t she?

But gods, the way he smiled at her, the way he looked at her, his eyes full of such wonder every time his gaze found her…

Her good mood was even in spite of the weather, gloomy and cold as she pulled on a set of clothes and readied herself for the day.

The skies were overcast, the threat of rain in the air. The clouds were dark and heavy, hanging over the city heavy and grey, but even that could not dampen her spirits.

"You are in an awful chipper mood," Rhys said drily as she came down for breakfast. Feyre was yet nowhere to be seen but Nyx grinned at her as she dropped a noisy kiss to her nephew’s black hair.

“Maybe I am,” she said in a singsong voice, not even bothering to deny it as she reached for the platter of food. “What do you suppose could have me so happy?

Rhys raised an eyebrow at her, an eyebrow arched up almost to his hairline.

“Oh you know,” he said, his tone as dry as a summer desert. “I can’t imagine what could possibly have you in such a wonderfully happy mood…”

She hid a smile behind a bite of toast, even as Nyx babbled up at her, his small hands reaching up towards her, his small arms held up.

She reached out, picking him up and settled him on her lap, ruffling his hair and earning a bright, joyful laugh from the toddler.

Her nephew seemed happy enough to stay in her lap, his little hands reaching up to pat at her face as if fascinated by the sight of her.

She laughed softly, swatting his little fingers away before he accidentally stuck them in her eye, her gaze flickering back up to Rhysand.

He was watching the interaction between her and Nyx, his eyes flickering back and forth between the two of them, a smirk on his lips.

“He'll miss you, you know,” he casually commented, and she felt her spine stiffen in an instant at the words, her chest clenching slightly, her heart skipping a beat at the words. "Whenever Azriel and you do find a house to make your own."

Rhys' words startled her, the prospect of leaving Nyx behind making her heart pang in her chest, a twinge of sorrow sparking in her chest. "I'll still visit," she protested,  as she looked down at the toddler in her lap, the child happily patting his little hands against her face. Of course, she would visit. He was her nephew. 

Rhys' expression was almost rueful. "That won't change the fact that he'll miss you," he pointed out, just as Nyx gave a particularly gleeful laugh, his little hand accidentally smacking her cheek in his excitement.

She gave a small wince as the toddler's hand smacked against her cheek, a soft thud that stung just a little.

"He's young, he'll forget about me eventually," she said stoutly, even as the thought made her heart clench slightly.

"About his Auntie Ra Ra? I highly doubt that," Feyre said as she came into the dining Room. "But then, maybe you'll give him a cousin or two to play with."

The sound of Feyres's voice had her glancing up, and she gave her sister a smile, though her words made her cheeks flush as her heart stuttered in her chest.

"One step at a time," she said with a laugh, but the thought of children was already in her head.

Azriel's children, her own children…

She felt her head spinning, the prospect both terrifying and exhilarating at the same time.

Children...children with Azriel, with the male she cared so, so much for…

It was something she'd once thought would never happen, a family of her own.

The thought of it, of marrying Azriel, of having children with him…it filled her with wonder.

And even the nervous thrum of energy it sent through her didn’t diminish her mood.

She was just about to reach for a slice of bread, when she heard the entrance door open. She looked at Rhys questionable, who gave her a smile. "Azriel. It seems like my spymaster was thrown out of bed by his shadows at an ungodly hour."

Her heart skipped a beat at the words, her stomach flipping, and a sense of anticipation running down her spine.

And then she felt his presence like a brush of a cool draft, the feeling of his shadows winding through the room, almost like a greeting just for her.

They immediately twined around her wrists and hands, hissing wordlessly... like Snow sometimes purred just because.

A soft laugh escaped her at the feeling of the shadows, at the familiar way they reached out to her, winding around her wrists and hands, almost as if greeting her.

She reached out to brush a finger along one of the shadows, feeling a strange sense of joy at the way the shadow leaned into her touch, wrapping around her finger, almost as if nuzzling her skin.

Their Master was not far behind. Her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him, in the doorway, his usual leathers covering him, his hair mused slightly from sleep, a hint of a smile on his face as he looked at her.

He almost took her breath away just from the simple sight of him, his dark clothes hugging his frame, his hair slightly mussed as if he had woken up late, his eyes still a little cloudy from sleep.

And that hint of a smile on his lips, just for her, a soft smile that managed to send her heart fluttering in her chest.

"Good Morning," he greeted. "I thought I...may get to kidnap you after breakfast?"

Her heart just soared even more at the words, a small laugh escaping her, her mood soaring at the prospect of spending time with him.

“You’re not too tired?” she asked, and his smile grew, a hint of mischief in his gaze as he looked at her. "I heard the shadows threw you out of bed at an ungodly hour," she quipped.

Azriel just shook his head, a small smile playing around his lips. "They had an errand for me to run," he answered.

“Important, I presume,” Rhys commented, his tone slightly dry.

“Of course,” Azriel replied, his gaze flickering across the room to her, the smile on his face growing into something a lot closer to a cocky smirk. “Of the most importance.”

"Where are we going?" Eira asked as she stood, finishing her Marmelade Toast with two more bites.

"Not that far," Azriel answered. "But put on a coat please, it's getting colder."

She didn't even get to respond before the shadows had already managed to get her coat from her room, making her sigh as they wrapped her up in it.

She was helpless to resist as the shadows worked her arms into her coat, a huff of laughter leaving her lips at their eagerness.

She managed to roll her eyes as her arms went through the sleeves of the coat, the shadows wrapping her up in her coat with almost gentle delicacy, almost as if they feared they might somehow break her.

A gentle tug on the hem of her coat had her turning back to face Azriel, who had an almost fond look on his face as he looked at the shadows.

"Are you alright?" he asked, nodding towards the black shadows, but there was a twinkle of amusement in his gaze.

"I'm fine," she replied, though she felt the flush in her cheeks increase slightly as she cast a look down at the shadows, feeling that odd sense of both affection and annoyance. "Your shadows are just...overly eager," she quipped.

"I can't really fault them," Azriel responded as she took his arm that he offered, waving to Feyre and Rhys as he led her out of the room. "How do you feel about flying?"

"The one time Cassian took me, I vomited all over him," she said drily.

Azriel gave a low, dark scoff, a hint of annoyance in his gaze at that. "Of course Cassian would make you vomit," he said, a hint of annoyance in his tone as he said his friend's name.

"Well, if it makes you feel better," Azriel continued, glancing down at her through half-lidded eyes. "I won't be diving and swooping the way that idiot would do."

"That's a little reassuring," she said drily, even as her stomach fluttered.

It was reassuring, definitely better than the thought of vomiting all over him, but it didn't stop her heart from thudding slightly as he led her towards the door. 

They were going to be flying.

Her stomach did a little somersault as the thought raced through her mind, even as he led her out the door, her breath caught in her chest as the wind tugged at her clothes.

She was going to be flying with Azriel, in his arms, with those wings of his.

"You still trust me, right?" The sound of his voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she looked up at him, her heart fluttering slightly as she saw the certainty in his gaze, the look in his eyes that made her forget how to breathe for a moment or two.

"Of course," she said, the words breathless, her heart skipping a beat in her chest.

She trusted him more than anything else in the world, more than everything. And while she didn't trust flying...she trusted him.

He seemed reassured by her words, a hint of relief flickering in his gaze for a moment, his lips twitching slightly into a small smile. And then he moved, one arm sweeping under their knees and picking her up into his arms, holding her against him in a tight, secure embrace.

"Just hold on to me." It was all the warning she was going to get.

There was hardly any time to respond, for him to even give her warning, and then her feet were leaving the ground, leaving the safety of the ground as he wrapped her tight in his arms.

And then they were in the air, the ground suddenly falling away beneath her.

She instinctively tightened her grip on him, her arms wrapped tighter around his neck, holding on to him for dear life as she felt the wind against her body.

She shut her eyes tight, burying her head against his shoulder, feeling the sensation of falling and a small, terrified gasp escaped her, her grip on him so tight she was probably cutting off his circulation.

"Relax, sweetheart," his voice was a low rumble against her ear. "Just relax. I've got you, you're safe...nothing's going to happen, just relax..."

She could hear the reassurance in his words, in his voice, and she tried to relax, tried to listen to him and the steady, reassuring tone of his voice, to the steady, calm beat of his heart, even as her own heart was pounding.

"You're fine," he repeated, his lips brushing against her temple, his breath a soft shiver against her skin. "You're fine, I won't let anything happen...just trust me, sweetheart."

She dared to peek over his shoulder...seeing the rushing water of the Sidra beneath them. They were crossing over from the River House towards the House of Wind.

The view was slightly dizzying, and she shut her eyes again with a small whimper, her head resting against his shoulder, her face buried in his leathers, as she tightened her arms around his neck.

"Almost there," he comforted her, the words a low rumble against her ear. "You're doing great, just hold onto me, love..."

And then she could feel the descent, tightly controlled, slower than she was sure he had ever done it before, only for her benefit...and she concentrated not on the ground that was coming closer but on these massive, majestic wings that stretched from his back.

She concentrated on the sight, on the dark, membranous wings that stretched from his back, on how majestic he looked, with the sun shining on his wings, and then her own feet were once again touching solid ground, and she realised she had barely dared to even breathe the entire flight.

She stood in his arms for a moment or two, her limbs still trembling from the nerves, her lungs gasping for the air they'd been denying themselves for God knows how long.

"See? Completely and perfectly safe," he said, his voice quiet. "No vomiting, no dropping you. Completely safe."

She let out a shaky exhale at his words, forcing herself to relax as she took a deep breath, her heart still pounding against her chest, her body still trembling. "I don't think I'll ever get used to that," she managed to say, a hint of breathlessness in her voice.

"Maybe you just need a lot more practice," he quipped, and she could hear the hint of amusement in his voice, the hint of satisfaction, that he was able to make jokes again. “A lot more flights with me. Maybe hundreds…”

She managed a small laugh at his words, feeling her heart give a little bit of a flutter at that, and she could picture it, hundreds of flights, all in his arms, just like this, and it flushed her face with colour.

"Maybe we should take it one flight at a time," she said, still laughing slightly.  "I think all the flights are just going to leave me as a trembling, terrified mess if I keep vomiting or panicking every time I get in the air, and I highly doubt you want that."

He pressed a kiss to her temple, as he finally let her down and only then she took in her surroundings. They were on the other side of the Sidra and she could still see the River House in the distance...

"Where are we?" she managed to gasp out, still trying to catch her own breath, her heart still racing furiously, her legs feeling a little wobbly from the flight.

Home, the shadows said brightly. We are home!

She looked down at the shadows who were writhing around her legs, a small smile playing around her lips as she watched them.

"Home," she repeated, feeling a sense of wonder and excitement coursing through her heart as she looked up at the house in front of her, taking in the sight of it, and feeling the beginnings of possibility.

Eira stared at the grey stone house, overgrown with ivy...with a blue door and matching blue shutters on its windows. It wasn't massive. Not huge. But big...big enough to house a family. Two stories and an attic, tucked along a side arm of the River. It looked...magical.

Slightly depilated, like it hadn't had somebody to take care of it...but…She stared at the house, taking it in with wide eyes, a thousand different thoughts and emotions rushing through her mind.

It was...perfect. It was perfect.

It was perfect and every little detail of it filled her with a sort of longing, a longing to make it theirs.

"Do you..." she spoke, her voice low, as she continued to stare at the house in front of her. "Does it have a backyard ?"

Azriel let out a low laugh, clearly amused by her question. "Of course it does," he answered a hint of laughter in his voice. "Do you really think the shadows would have picked a house that doesn't have space for your vegetable garden?"

She felt her cheeks flush pink with embarrassment to have her desire for a garden so utterly transparent, but she didn't shy away from it, just huffed a small breath of laughter under her breath, even as her heart did a funny little leap in her chest.

Let us show you! the shadows said excitedly, twirling around her wrist again and tugging her towards the house. There was no chance to resist even if she had wanted to, the shadows pulling her along towards the house, and she followed, a hint of excitement and anticipation rushing through her.

She cast a glance back at Azriel over her shoulder, but he only followed behind, a soft smile on his face.

The shadows were already opening the front door, letting her inside, and she stepped into the front hallway feeling her breath catch in her chest.

It was...perfect. It was perfect.

And it could be theirs.

She walked around, taking in the small hallway, the wooden floors, the high ceilings, looking into the living room, the kitchen, feeling a sense of possibility filling her as she looked around. And the shadows were already showing her around, racing ahead of her as she looked, almost seeming to vibrate with excitement as they pointed things out to her.

There was a sitting room, a formal dining room, a study, a large kitchen, a cosy nook set into the side of the house, and a small bathroom all on the first floor.

The shadows tugged her up the stairs. Towards the master bedroom, overlooking the stream. And then they tugged her into a room overlooking the garden.

The shadows were vibrating with such excitement now that she could barely keep up with them, but they tugged her forward, showing her the room.

For the babies, they whispered.

"For the...babies?" She repeated, feeling her heart leap into her chest, as she looked around.

It was perfect. For a child. For a few children. Plenty of space, and a full wall of windows that looked into the garden, and her heart was racing.

Yes! The shadows were practically cheering. For the babies!

She turned and met Azriel's eyes from the doorway, He was leaning up against the doorjamb, watching her, a slight smile on his face as she looked at him. He raised an eyebrow at her, a gleam in his eye as he looked at her.

She couldn't do anything but look at him, her heart hammering in her chest, her face flushed with excitement.

"You like it?" he asked, a note of smug satisfaction in his voice, and she could tell he was already pretty sure of the answer, having seen the shadows showing her around and having watched her reaction the whole time.

“Yes,” she breathed out. “But I need to see the garden.”

This time it was Azriel who let out a low laugh, amusement dancing in his eyes as he pushed away from the wall and crossed to where she stood.

“Of course you do,” he said, and there was an odd...tenderness in his voice, a fondness in the gleam in his eye. “Let’s go see the garden then.”

She didn’t even have a moment to hesitate, before he reached forward and took her hand. The contact felt like sparks in her skin, her breath catching in her chest as he intertwined his fingers with hers, and tugged her forward, leading her from the room and back down the stairs.

She was aware of the way her heart was racing as if trying to break free from her chest as they walked, and she could practically feel every point of contact between them. His hand in hers, every brush of his skin against her fingers, every place they were touching... Her skin tingled and danced, her breath caught in her chest, and she could have sworn she was shaking.

And then he tugged her from the back porch, tugging her out into the garden, and her attention was fully captured as she looked around her, at the space around her-

It was perfect. A space of green, of flowers... A riotous assortment of blooms, vegetables, a place to sit, a place to play...

And there was…as she turned back towards the house, and saw the blue door…suddenly she remembered. Remembered Elain’s vision. Remembered the fleck of blue in the background…remembered…this was their home. This was the place for their children, where they would grow and learn.

She looked at the house, at the back porch and the windows, the flowers and vegetables around her, and she felt her eyes growing watery, a sense of longing in her heart, a sense of home, the picture so perfect in her mind. And in her mind’s eye, she saw it - children running through the garden, playing in the grass, their laughter filling the air…

She imagined it. The children’s laughter, the sound of life. She could picture it, children racing around the garden, playing in the grass, children with light hair and dark eyes, and her heart ached, her throat closing up with an almost painful longing.

She wanted it. She wanted it more than she had ever wanted anything else in her life…

Eira turned towards Azriel, who was still watching her, a soft, tender expression on his face. He already had known what she was doing, that she was picturing what the garden would look like with their children, what the house would look like full of life, and she could see the longing in his own eyes, the same emotion that burned in her chest.

“Let me at least do this one thing right,” he requested softly, as he stepped close to her, as he grasped her hand and sunk down on one knee. “Eira Marie Archeron, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

She stared at him, her heart stopping in her chest. He was kneeling in front of her, his hand wrapped around hers, hazel eyes gazing up at her, a hopeful, hopeful gleam in his eyes, as he waited for her to answer.

She wanted to say so many things, wanted to tell him so many things, but the only thing that would come out of her mouth was a soft “Yes”…

He let out a shaky, almost desperate exhale, almost as if he had been holding his breath the whole time, waiting to hear her response, before his fingers tightened around hers, a fierce, hopeful gleam in his eyes, and it felt like her heart was burning in her ribcage.

She wasn’t even sure from where the ring that he slipped on her finger suddenly appeared. Silver. One pearl, flanked by diamonds. Small enough that it wouldn’t get in her way. But so utterly beautiful that she could only stare.

“The shadows had it all narrowed down,” Azriel said quietly. “They threw me out of bed this morning to drag me all around Velaris to show me the rings they had picked out. I chose this one…I thought it was the most…you.” She stared at the ring in wonder, taking in the simple beauty of the silvery metal and the diamonds and pearls. She would have been happy with any ring, any piece of jewellery that he gave her, but this...it was so her, she couldn’t help but smile, her heart filled with something sweet and warm and fluttery at the sight of it, at the thought of the shadows guiding him.

She could picture it, the shadows, tugging him all over the city, the shops lining the Sidra, guiding him to the perfect ring, and she loved the thought of it, of how the shadows wanted to help Azriel pick this perfect ring, that they wanted to help make this moment perfect for both of them.

“We would be lost without you,” Eira told them and they preened in response

They swirled around her happily, almost fluttering with pride, their dark matter moving like ripples in a pond as they basked in the praise, and she couldn’t help but smile at them, letting out a soft laugh as she watched them dance around her.

[sainzproductions]

𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐝𝐨 ⋆ 𝐜. 𝐬𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐳

THE OTHER WOMAN / SEQUEL !

where you acclimate to the current dating scene after eight years of being with carlos...

liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc and others

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↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

You felt like you had done a good job all by yourself. You took your sweet time getting used to being alone again, having spent the better part of the past decade accompanying carlos and living together with him.

As embarassing as it was to admit, there were days where you'd wake up abruptly as if hearing his footsteps, or the faint rumble of his voice lulling you to sleep. There were moments where you'd break down crying upon seeing an article of clothing belonging to carlos, or seeing pictures when you were still happily together.

It wasn't easy to forget an eight year relationship. You soon realized. He was all you've ever known and adored... You dreamt a life with the guy for crying out out loud!

You wanted all the permanent things, the domestic future, him.

But the reality was that you were different people who wanted starkly different things in life. Carlos was set on his career while you had the burden of being a woman. You didn't have forever to waste away, and you didn't want to spend it waiting for a future that could never be in the stars for you and him.

You had accepted it. It wasn't all tears, and tearful reminiscing anyways. Your life had picked up after a couple of weeks. It was a lie. You spent a month and a half being pathetic. But who was counting?

You were having the time of your life. Your singleness provided a way for you to realize new and old hobbies.

You finally went back to your hometown, despite your fears of facing your parents' knowing looks and getting an ill timed i told you so's from their ever skeptic way of seeing life. Especially your relationship with Carlos..

But your mother took one look at you; in your deshieveled and devastated form, wordlessly opening her arms and craddling your pathetic self as you wept about your broken heart.

You found peace in the tranquility of your childhood home. Reacquainting yourself with your horse, champion whom you had been neglecting— you realize belatedly. The help couldn't take the horses out that much, where you formerly took the stallion out for most of the day. You made sure to make up for lost time however.

You were also able to rekindle old friendships, quickly becoming fast friends once again as if no time had passed at all. You traipsed all over Madrid, enjoying the thrill of meeting new people, of learning new things... And how forward the current dating scene seemed to be in regards to matters concerning...

"Wait, wait." You press a hand towards his broad chest, breathing roughly. Your chest rose and fell with excitement as you tried to come down from how fast the things had quickly become heated between the two of you. "We're going a bit too fast, don't you think?" You whine under your breath, as his face came down to press open mouthed kisses on your neck, easily finding your most sensitive spot as he expertly manouvers your body, backing you up against the wall.

"Relax. We won't do anything you don't want." He says, softening his tone, "I'm not a hooligan." He tuts, pressing a feather like kiss on the side of your lips.

"Says the man who pulled me into a dark room to play tonsil tennis." You retort amusedly, stroking your fingers on his neck. You couldn't help but close your eyes at the sensation of his lips against your skin, his fingers making quick work of slipping under your skirt, and you hissed from the sensation of his cold rings against your thighs, "You're cold!"

"Warm me up then, love." He was evidently amused by your reactions and the way your cheeks flushed at his crude remark. He wiped away every other thought from your mind, as he kisses you wantonly. He made sure to hold your gaze as he pulls away, sinking down to his knees... and kissing your thighs softly. "Beautiful. So fucking beautiful. I couldn't think of anything else when you walked into the room. Nobody else mattered but you... you're bad for my business, darling."

You could hardly register anything else after that

↶*ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊ-

The breakup came with the long forgotten territory of male attention. Sure, there were some bold and uncaring lads few and far between, but Carlos had quickly shut down every attempt with a swift glare and a possesive hand over you. You didn't mind. You only needed him and his attention and everyone else were merely annoying backnoise.

As it is, your breakup was made public through the urging of Carlos' management and his public relations team. You cooperated seamlessly despite being civil, to the point of rudeness, to their every demand.

How ironic was it that through his blatant act of wanting to separate himself from you and everything else that had to do with you; he made a declaration to the world that you were readily available.

Your dms were sure packed to the brim when you'd later had the energy to do anything asides from the basic tasks of taking care of yourself. You couldn't laugh nor cry upon seeing several of carlos' work acquaintances making their presence known in your dms. You even saw his former (and possibly current) teammates taking their shot.

You couldn't help but wonder for how long has he been... Non committal towards his best mates about your real score. They couldn't possibly muster up the courage had it been the true duration of your separation. Men aren't that proactive. They atleast had some base sense of loyalty.

Then again, it didn't take very long for him to be spotted with some model on his arm. He looked happy, invigorated... Annoyingly handsome. Fuck him and his perfect face. You wished you atleast threw a heel at him for being a dickwad.

Were you seeing other people out of spite or trying to prove yourself to him? You wouldn't exactly say so. You'd had an agreement with the well established, and good looking gentleman who had made you tremble and writhe under his tongue. He was incredibly lax and cool, and great company in every sense of the word. He made you laugh, he also made you cry just now.

And so while you made yourselves look presentable, you were first out the door while he waited a few minutes to make his entrance into the party again. You gratefully took a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, wetting your parched throat as you looked around as normally as you could. Blending in with the fancy people in their cocktail dresses and designers.

You heard footsteps approaching after a few moments. Another man spotted him, and he grinned in recognition upon the sight of the ever famous....

"Sir Hamilton!"

[mariocki]

L'ultimo cacciatore (The Last Hunter, 1980)

"You actually enjoy it."

"Listen, sweetheart, I've been out here too long. I don't know what's good or bad anymore, don't know who my friends or my enemies are. But I don't enjoy it. I don't want to argue about it anymore. Don't want to think about it anymore or understand it anymore. Sometimes, I think I don't want to live anymore."

[rwrbficrecs]

always and everywhere and everything by @dumbpeachjuice (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Remember when this fic was being posted as a WIP and so many of us (myself very much included) nearly lost it?! The hurt, the angst, the years of longing—Henry and Alex so perfect for each other, yet always missing the mark. I read it for the second time now, and it was another wild ride. I shed quite a few tears (and got emotionally shredded into tiny pieces nbd), and in my humble opinion, this is a true fandom masterpiece!

Hush by @emeryhall (book-verse)

@na-dineee: This fic can be summed up in one word: BAM !! Alex and Henry know each other casually from class, but then they meet at a college New Year’s party and their midnight kiss turns deliciously smutty. From there, everything just falls perfectly into place—in a fast-paced, clever, heartfelt, and wonderfully smutty way. An absolute joy to read. 10/10, no notes, would totally recommend!

Down By The Water, I Saw You by @myheartalivewrites (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Is it fate or coincidence? Who knows—but one unexpected encounter throws Alex and Henry’s lives completely off track. A decade after meeting on holiday and being torn apart, they find themselves face to face again in the Scottish Highlands. This fic is perfection—great pacing, a stunning setting, and the perfect blend of tension, fluff, and smut. Plus, it has one of the best epilogues I’ve ever read. I've revisited it multiple times and will definitely read it again.

sea of endless hope by acastle (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: This fic, the sequel to a flicker, a spark, has just as much heart as the original and is so beautiful! You see little moments in the lives of Alex, Henry and Nena that, while only loosely connected at first, all culminate in a beautiful conclusion. The topics this fic touches on are some of my favorites in post-canon firstprince fics too!

i'm floating in a most peculiar way, and the stars look very different today by @firenati0n (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: Want a happy ending, but not in the mood for pure fluff? Look no further. Not only is this verse so creative, containing sci-fi vibes that you don't see in a lot of fics, but the tone of it is so beautifully written.

The Tooth Fairy Agenda by @kj-bee (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: The author's imagination and world building really shine in this fic that'll have you grinning from ear to ear! Alex meets the Tooth Fairy the very first time he loses a tooth and through him, Henry, years later. While firstprince is adorable in this fic, it's Alex's relationship with the Tooth Fairy he met as a kid that's really the highlight of the fic, which is a nice change of pace from firstprince-centric fics!

Treehouses, Emails and Making It Right by @itsmaybitheway (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: This fic explores what would've happened if Alex and Henry became friends before Rio, and it's absolutely adorable! All of the relationships in it are so well developed, especially between the White House Trio!

(make me) misbehave by @onward--upward (book-verse)

@dot524: This is one of my all-time favorite comfort-read fics. I love the way it’s told, with flashbacks and hints as the story unfolds, along with lyrics and snatches of social media conversation. It has the feel of a masterpiece and you can tell the author was really thoughtful with how to share this story. In it, Alex is a songwriter/songwriter and Henry is an actor, and they struggle with understanding themselves and keeping their relationship a secret. I love their process of getting to know each other and their fight against the world and for each other. Alex’s songs are so unique and fitting, and they tell the story too. Just a wonderful journey of a fic.

Not all librarians wear capes by mangyycur (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: Magic and Henry's passion for reading collide in this fic that will have you hooked, guessing what's going on from start to finish! It's so suspenseful, and the author clearly put so much thought into the world-building aspect of it because it shows. A must-read for book and magic lovers alike!

If at first you don't succeed by @clottedcreamfudge (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: I absolutely love one of the tropes in this fic! Alex and Henry go on a blind date that doesn't go well, and later end up on the same ski trip. Among other things I'm not going to spoil, I absolutely love how Nora is such a mastermind in this fic!

Fairytale of New York by @emeryhall (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: I'm really picky about friends to lovers, but I absolutely loved watching the boys become friends and then something more in this fic! How much the boys care about each other, especially Alex for Henry, is so pronounced in this fic, and I loved it!

call me that again by @miharaikko (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: A roommates AU and almost every even remotely sweet term of endearment you can think of, and parts that gave me chills mean that it doesn't have to be Valentine's Day for this fic to be a sweet read for everyone to enjoy!

sweethearts, not like the candy by @porcelainmortal (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: From the way the author makes the coffee shop very much Henry's to the event that brings this little oneshot to a satisfying conclusion, it's the little details that make this fic so cute!

Oh, Darling, Please Be Mine by @whispered-story (book-verse)

@suseagull5914: This fic is a coffee shop AU meets college AU meets friends to lovers fic that needs to become a classic! Add to that that it's centered around Valentine's Day and you have a really soft fic that I'll definitely be rereading this time next year!

i'm gonna show up in your shape by @anincompletelist (book-verse)

@na-dineee: This hit me right in the feels! Single dad Alex is figuring out life after his daughter heads off to college, when Nora plays matchmaker with Henry — 12 years his junior. Out of practice and less than thrilled, he’s soon swept into something unexpectedly beautiful. This fic is packed with emotion, a pinch of vulnerability, and in the end, pure domestic bliss.

they say ‘you're a little much for me, you're a liability’ by @henrysfox (book-verse)

@taylor-27: This is such an angsty yet comforting fic. I had a real good cry. Basically, Alex and the super six are close friends and Henry is his roommate. It's all about Alex and his old insecurities being dredged up and how it sends him into a spiral and he has a breakdown about it. It's all about picking up those sharp pieces and putting it back together. Alex's state of mind is described beautifully! A must read!

Prof. A. Fox, Matchmaker by @smc-27 (book-verse)

@na-dineee: This fic may be short, but it’s three times as sweet. I was grinning the whole way through. Fics where Arthur is alive always feel special to me, and this one does it so well—Arthur is just the right amount of unhinged and deranged in his matchmaking attempts, leaving Henry slightly flustered and annoyed… and yet Alex still falls for him in no time. Because of course he does !!

Bright Blue Sky by @absoluteaudacitywrites (book-verse)

@na-dineee: Here comes the ultimate FirstPrince post-canon established-relationship fluff—packed with domesticity and pure marital bliss. Alex and Henry as twin dads, going all out to make their boys’ birthday perfect? This is a chef’s kiss masterpiece: sweet, wholesome, and utterly heart-melting.

check out our past Monthly Faves here ❤️