#don't know if i'd have time to make it but its an idea i got lol

[osakanone]

Speaking as someone with a traumatic brain injury, I'm not sure that PSAs alone will never be enough. I do have an idea, and I am curious about your thoughts.

If you want effective change you have to reach out to the people either do not remember PSAs or more likely, don't read PSAs, who think they are good people but are actually terrible in ways they cannot accept and thus cannot grow from -- who chase respectability as social clout instead of making babysteps needed to get things done.

So here it is:

Your alternatives don't work for sociolinguistic reasons

Your chosen word of interest is an adjective form of a verb.

R-word can be used easily, interchangably and with little effort when someone is stressed because every form of it is grammatically correct and socially incorrect, which is what is usually craved in an insult.

Language is an ecology: A space of predator words and prey words based on which words replace each in their fashionableness.

As with any ecology, there are niches: pockets of success where a need exists and a word slips into the gap to fill it.

In Europe we didn't get your word of interest until the mid 2000's, and it was occupied by a form of the word spastic (the medical condition) shortened to the slur "spaz" (which I've been on the recieving end of many times).

Consequences create martyrs and those seeking to differentiate themselves will adopt waning or discouraged language to differentiate themselves (PSA culture got us edgelord culture).

When a word goes out of popularity is when another word which is significantly cleverer takes its place, which is more biting and more cutting.

A great example is how "the slur beginning in F ending in T" in many progressive circles is front-loaded with the expectation of one word, and then instead people say "fascist" and everybody smiles.

It is one of the ways of controlling language:

You take the second-association added to an instrinsic thing eg, the "other" meaning of gay used on xbox live) and you attach it to something else

You outsource sentiment to a different target.

You retire one word, and inject another which better aligns with your sentiment and intentionality.

You MUST do this in a way which punches up instead of down, or you risk watering down the perception of a word -- and you must likewise be able to answer the question "how is that <other word>?" on the spot with a single sentence and shut down a conversation.

Back to this context, I genuinely use

"mentally redacted",

This replaced my previous go-to

"mentally retired",

which I felt licked of ageism and made me uncomfortable.

Meaning, that something was censored or removed or deleted intentionally. I make this about thoughtless intentionality of action, not intrinsic nature of a person or their situation or whatever has happened to them.

It shifts from medicalism to mentality.

The imperfectionism of it is the scar-tissue of culture as words fall out of favour.

Maybe that's not good enough for Americans? I don't know!

Does it just read of hiding the word and playing slight of hand instead? Does it have some third other reason? There's no good answer here, I feel.

But it makes me personally feel one hell of a lot better about my slowness instead of slipping up when talking about myself and throwing a slur at the person I'm talking to.

I'd genuinely like to know your thoughts!

e:

There's a great bit in the notes by op about how swearing disrupts civility; disruption is the only way to make any protest get noticed. I will say, a slur is often just a culturally acceptable swearword, which again is miserable. I hate to say it but we do need to get meaner if we're gonna survive. We do need to invent our own words about the people who oppress us that are robust descriptors with ride recognition.

e2:

I came very close to using dysthymic as an insult to describe "I need more" greedy "more lanes bro" VC/corpo-brain types before realizing good people would be caught in the cross-fire despite the fact dysthymia is one of the major medical roots of their behavior and damn that is a hard one for me to figure out. The great thing about medicine is it gives us lots of great complex descriptors that are easy to look up. The downside is when we use medicalization as a callout or attack there is always friendly fire. An oppressor will never care about friendly fire, which means we are always stuck playing defense and its fucking bullshit and makes me so mad.

e3:

I really wish there was a way to make words which disrupted civility without... disrupting... civility... okay that's a paradox. Fine, then are there words which can disrupt anti-civility? I want those.

e4:

Found one. The crushing response. "human pet guy"

Since the r-slur is making a comeback (you know, the word that starts with R, has six letters, and ends in D), I'm gonna make a little PSA:

Yes, it's an ableist slur.

Terms like "asshat," "head-up-ass," "up their own ass," and "high on their own farts" exist. There's also words like crap, dogshit, half-assed, assclown, and chucklefuck. And on the less vulgar side, there are terms like ridiculous, nonsense, train wreck, pointless, insipid, self-absorbed, pretentious, annoying, boring, contemptible, vile, and disgusting.

Substituting words like restarted, poptarted, brain damaged, smoothbrain, etc. is still ableist, because either 1. you obviously still mean the r-word, or 2. you're still using disability as an insult.

[mistresscitrusslice]

The Season 2 Opening. We Must Discuss.

First of all, small beans. Instead of static, lifeless statues, this time we get moving humans. Mel features significantly more than I expected, so she'll probably be a much more major character than I expected for a non-champion character and I'm so happy for her. I believe the use of moving people instead of statues signifies that immense change will be happening. What we thought was literally set in stone in Season 1 will be turned on its head in Season 2.

Okay, on to the really concerning matters.

Yuhuh. Jinx moves too fast for me to get a good screenshot, but she gestures like this around her face a lot. I think we all already know about the Caitlyn-Jinx parallels, but my sister suggests it could be a red herring for the actual resemblances she has to Silco.

Sis gets credit for the following observation, but Caitlyn's daydream sequences about shooting Jinx are controlled and clearly separated from reality unlike Jinx's.

However, sis has not seen ep 2 yet, where Caitlyn does have that moment in the arcade where she shoots her vision of Jinx among the wooden dummies. Not only does this more closely resemble Jinx's hallucinations, it also parallels Jinx shooting the harmless crow in s1 e5. By the time the strike squad are about to leave, she can clearly tell that what she thought might be Jinx was really just a harmless wooden standee. Startling, but harmless. She shoots it anyway.

Caitlyn is totally gonna spiral more, and maybe she'll start losing her grip on reality too, but for now, she has more in common with Silco than she does with Jinx. Did anyone else get reminded of Silco's coat when Ambessa put the supervillain cape on Caitlyn? The collars don't look similar but they still eerily resemble each other, you get me?

Ok back to intro stuff

Vi wipes off her name from her face. That's two tattoos that are rendered impermanent in this opening theme. In the Fenty x Arcane video, they mention that Mel's golden freckles are tattoos. Later in the intro song, we also see her golden freckles gone. Change, impermanence. That seems to be a theme here.

Vi is literally erasing her name from her face. In any normal circumstance, I'd say that means she wants a change of identity, a desire to start over. However, I know that Vi's League lore involves amnesia. Does she really drink herself into that bad of a stupor? Jkjk. I assumed that her amnesia was replaced by the Stillwater imprisonment to explain how she got topside and with the enforcers, but perhaps I was wrong. Maybe they do still intend to go the amnesia or partial amnesia route with her.

The teasers implied that Vi shares the genetic trait that has Jinx predisposed to hallucinations. It's possible that this eventually contributes to her loss of memory, but I wouldn't call it quite yet. However, if this happens during her emo era when I'm assuming she has no support system, she'll be very vulnerable, unlike if it were to happen while she was still partnered with Caitlyn, in which case they could easily fill in most blanks in her memory.

I have no idea what to make of this. It's clear as day what they're paralleling, but why? Why the flashlight scene? My best guess is that they're trying to draw on déjà vu, implying a repetition of history, but why this particular moment? They could've easily chosen anything else in Jayce's s1 arc. He has many more memorable moments than this. Let's see, I'm literally making this up as I go.

This meeting was a pivotal moment for Jayce. Both his meeting with Viktor and his meeting with Mel changed his fate. The Viktor one is pretty self-explanatory, but without meeting Mel, they would've both just gotten exiled or locked up again. With Mel, they had someone in power who could vouch for them.

That begs the question, is Jayce meeting someone new? Or is this a reintroduction to someone he's already known before, a new meeting after a long time apart or after a significant change, maybe a change in them both. I believe it must be someone who was involved in the original hallway scene.

Jayce is either looking at Mel again or at Viktor. Given the amount of Viktor/Mel parallels in Season 1, I believe Jayce is looking at Viktor after he's undergone his likely final evolution. That'll obviously be another pivotal moment for him... but will it be a good one like it was with Mel? Viktor has power now. He's performing miracles. He's, like, two steps away from parting the Pilt River like it's the Red Sea. He seems to hold a grudge against Jayce, though, for *checks notes* saving his life? Jk I know he feels like he's losing autonomy and like Jayce didn't respect his wishes with the Hexcore and Jayce obviously couldn't let Viktor die when he'd fought so hard to stay alive before.

Anyway, I feel like this could easily be both a good omen and a bad omen for Jayce. More than anything, I feel like it'll be an epiphany. He is quite literally seeing the light. The light at the end of the dark tunnel? The light of the heavens at the end of his life? The light of a revelation sent by a god he once knew as a man?

Seeing Mel screaming bloody murder during the opening, this was the first place my mind went to. The pose doesn't match up exactly, and Jinx/Powder's screams are definitely wilder, but I feel like there's definitely something here. Is there anyone else who screams like this, thrusting their head forward and keeping their arms back?

We also see the shadow hands from this earlier shot:

I'm thinking of the Black Rose (is that their name?) kidnapping her in thin air, incorporeal hands reaching at her and snatching my joy the love of my life Mel away. It could also represent people grasping at the power Mel wields, both as the wealthiest Council member and as a Noxian princess, one of the closest people to Ambessa, the one wielding the most power right now.

Mel is really out of her depth right now. Her power and influence is up for grabs if she dares to blink and let her guard down. I'm also surprised that we don't see her fight back at all when there's danger around. I thought she might have more battle experience as she was raised by Ambessa. For those people wondering about her magical powers, I think she would've used them by now if she had them. Council attack aside, which could've been Viktor's magic, she wasn't able to do anything about the memorial attack or her own kidnapping. I think they're trying to show us that Mel is not as untouchable as she presents herself. Under the right circumstances, she's just as vulnerable as any civilian.

The sliver of light? My sister pointed out that it looks just like the crack of light between two double doors. Almost closed... or barely open? It appears in pretty much everyone's shot in the opening, but it's right down the center of Mel's face here. Is she torn between two sides? Is this about an impossible choice she has to make?

The spotlight is also on her. That's two sources of light. It looks like a red sun. All eyes on her as the surviving voice of the Council?

And her expression... shock, fear, horror. The heavy breathing, the look on her face... I feel eerily like I've seen it on someone else before. I can't place who, but I'm getting déjà vu from this. Does anyone else recognize this expression and these mannerisms?

[7nuh]

MR. CRAWLING YANDERE HEADCANONS !

CW 𓂃 gn!reader, gaslighting, canon-typical violence

AN 𓂃 ik i said i'd have HCs for all of them but this ended up being too long so... 🧍‍♀️ also unedited bc i have an exam later ill be back to edit this later pls

Mr. Crawling is the protective type. He spends half of the entire game following you wherever you go and going through great lengths to protect you from the other residents of this cursed apartments. However, I can see how that protectiveness can get twisted in the long run when you remain completely helpless and unable to defend yourself. Mr. Crawling would have no choice but to step in and make decisions for you instead because he cannot afford to lose you just like that.

Out of all the homicipher men, mr. Crawling is the one who has the most respect for your choices and boundaries. He leaves when you tell him to, patiently guides you throughout this maze, and comforts you when you are upset— and he's never violent unless threatened.

Such a sweet and gentle guy would never hurt you intentionally. He loves you too much to hurt you.

That being said, though he'll never intentionally hurt you, he doesn't realize it whenever he's being possessive and suffocating you instead. After all, having wandered these halls for so long has desensitized him to violence and made him forget all his human memories. Simply put, his concept of love is warped in its own way. He doesn't understand nor remember how to healthily love another person by societal standards, but he (usually) means well.

He may not understand love but he knows one thing for sure— you're very precious to him. You're so full of life, so kind (to him), and so persistent to find your way home despite everything. Everyone else just kind of does their own thing around there... but you need him. You give him a purpose and he's ready to give himself up for you.

But as much as he respects you, he knows you sometimes don't know any better. You almost got yourself killed multiple times despite his numerous warnings, and he's not confident you completely understand him just yet. So whenever he feels as though something got lost in translation, he won't hesitate to push you aside or cover for you in that instance. Thankfully, you can now regenerate your limbs.

You don't know any better. This sentiment becomes a mantra that repeats itself in his head over and over again. The two of you haven't made any significant progress on finding an exit, but you've almost died more than a dozen times by now. How are you supposed to survive without him?

What even is your home like? How can he be sure that you aren't going to get yourself killed over there too? Can he follow you there too to protect you? Can't you just stay here with him instead? Would that be so terrible? Of course he wants you to find whatever you're looking for...! it's just that...

The idea of losing you only intensifies his anxiety and over-protectiveness. Whether by departure or death, he cannot stand to be apart from you. Why are you so eager to leave this place anyway?

Mr. Crawling is gentle, but love can force him to be violent. He's not as cruel as the rest, but it doesn't mean he won't be when you're put in danger, especially when his possessiveness and overprotectiveness spiral out of control. He doesn't want to restrict you in any way because he loves and respects you too much to do that, but you just keep getting yourself in trouble. He overcompensates and goes overboard instead to protect you, even if it means killing someone.

And the thought of you forgetting him depresses him. He knows you had a life before this, but he wants a life with you in it. He'll be selfish just this once, but never again. He'll make sure you're safe here you so don't worry about that! Just don't leave him. Just stay with him, please.

It starts little by little. He starts telling you to rest more often and misleading you farther away from the elevator. Sometimes, when you tell him to leave you alone, he pretends not to understand you anymore. When he sees that green light from a distance, he tells you there is something malicious up ahead. In times like these, he's glad you're so blindly trusting of every word he says. It's difficult for him to watch your resolve break down, but it's for the best. When you're with him, you're safe and that all that's matters.

I can see some of the others Ms. Bride and Mr. Silvair being in on it. Ms. Bride is very excited her wedding garments will be used for their actual purpose this time whereas Mr. Silvair finds your unconventional relationship an interesting area of study.

Eventually, you do give up. Maybe you even become more monstrous by the day and accept that you're better off here. He loved your persistence, but maybe he can show you giving up and that staying here isn't so bad. After all, you have him. He makes sure to be extra affectionate and cuddly <3

You'll learn to accept it, won't you? For him? Whatever's beyond those elevator doors can't possibly be better than being loved unconditionally and safe within his arms. You're even free to be yourself down here! You can be as violent as you want, and Mr. Crawling will happily watch you bludgeon someone to death on the sidelines with nothing but adoration.

Alternatively, if you do find your way home, he WILL follow you whether you like it or not. But if you don't want him there... well, do expect a few inconveniences. Whatever it takes to convince you to let him stay or to convince you to come back, really. Maybe like blood on the walls spelling 'me love you' and 'me miss you' or a cold pair of arms wrapping around your waist at night.

[peppermint-moss]

are you ever gonna make a amv/pmv with some warrior cat ocs? your designs are to die for and i'd love to see your storylines

aw thank you!! ;w; I don't really have warrior cat ocs of my own tbh, they're really fun to make but I don't have a lot of inspiration or drive to continue expanding more on the stories of warrior cat ocs myself (which is why I offer oc designs as a commissions instead so other ppl can have fun with those characters haha)

I do intend to make more original stories in graphic novel format!! (which I wouldn't be surprised if i made some amv/pmvs based off of those stories); notably Bluebell Littleears would be the one I tackle first (and to the cat people in the crowd Yes there will be cat anthros in that story at some point haha)

[seafoam-taide]

You know I thought for awhile that I was just a rare type of person who sure, liked people well enough but was okay being alone didn't necessarily need anyone and NO. NO. NO. OH MY GOD . YOU GIANT DUMBASS. NO HAHAHA NOOO NOPE

[asjjohnson]

I just had the thought of making a future fic updating schedule of 'once in a blue moon'. (Partly for the pun.) ...But then I looked up how often blue moons happen, and it's only about once every two years. So... that's probably not a good updating schedule. :(

(I have an existing fic with an update schedule of 'Friday 13ths and Halloween'. I like the semi-randomness. I would like to think of similar schedules. ...Though I'd missed the last two update dates.)

[reikoknshii]

Perhaps...a Date?

Francis Mosses - Milkman

꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊˚꒷︶꒷꒥꒷‧₊

Its been weeks you've been working for the D.D.D. , you stayed in your work station and do the usual works.

However, those days passed, you got yourself a motivation whenever he check in. Who? The famous milkman of town, Francis Mosses.

What makes him special? Was it his tired eyes? His soft and deep voice whenever he greeted you for checking in? You have no idea..

All you know you were smitten for the exhausted milk delivery man, and you can tell if he is the real one or not. Though there are times you almost let in the doppelganger because on how they almost perfect their form of Francis, either way you never let it in or else you'll be in trouble for cause of death of the apartment residents.

This day he's one of the listed entry resident, perhaps you can have a longer conversation with him?

You inhaled and exhaled as you open the metal window to start your work.

Angus...

Izaack...

Elenois and her Twin Selene..

Where is Francis?

You grew impatient after checking in four people and making sure they're not a doppelganger. Atlas Francis arrived, Tired as usual as he shows his entry request.

Odd...

' Perhaps he's a doppelganger? '

You tapped on the window trying get his attention , when he noticed you questioned where is his Id.

"My Id? My apologies, i forgot to show my Id" He said softly and audible for us to hear from the other glass side of the window.

' looks like everything is in check..wait hold on a minute '

You decide to double check his appearance and his ID, soon enough checking his files and you found the false thing about him.

"I don't remember Francis having a Mole"

"FUCK!" Cursed the doppelganger as he grew angry. This isn't the first time they would be angry, they almost got it perfect but fail because of a small detail.

"I didn't take that into account.

You're not easy to fool.

That makes me want to devour you even more." You shivered as they banged on the protected glass window , you immediately closed the metal cover.

"Can I visit you at night while you sleep? " the doppelganger said from the other side as they continue to hit on the metal cover.

"Yeah no thanks pal, I'd let francis in but not you" you jokingly said and dialed the D.D.D. services.

"Oh? Looks like the stationed guard is hoping for a mutual feeling, ill get you next time.." You immediately regret saying that, especially to a doppelganger, Knowing full well they would use the information they know against you.

You heard the D.D.D. services arrived and waited for it to finish. Soon the cleaning services opened the metal door telling you the 'operation cleaning is done and you may resume your work.'

You felt like a stupid hopeless romantic, now the doppelganger knew you're into Francis and would take that into their account to try getting in.

Soon enough, the real Francis arrived.

He showed both of his ID and Entry request.

ID and expiration date? Good.

Entry Request? Seem Accurate enough.

Appearance? perfect.

Your hands shakes as you checked the list as Francis waited for you to speak.

"Is it all good?" He asked with his usual tired voice as you nodded your head and waited for you to open the door.

"I-" you stammer wanting to say something as Francis stared at you.

"Yes?."

"...i-i well..." You started as you scratch the back of your head. "P-perhaps a date ? Only if you're available" you asked as Francis tired eyes widen abit from your offer.

"..That wouldn't be bad, tomorrow sounds good?" He asked with a slight smile , making your face go red from the overwhelming joy and excitement.

"Y-yes! Please!" You blurt out and realized you look so eager in front of him.

"Alright, mind opening the door for me now?" Francis asked as he carried his ID and work bag , You covered your face embarrassed on how you react to his answer and opened the metal door for him.

"See you Y/n "

[hanniebaeee]

Back seat

Lee Know x fem!reader x Bang Chan

Warnings: SMUT MDNI

Genre: best friends to lovers, fluff, smut

Summary: Your best friends, Chan and Minho are fighting, and you find out why. And it leads to some very interesting back seat fun.

It was later than you throught it would be, and the rain pounded relentlessly on the windshield. Minho's face was scrunched with focus as he drove through the rain.

You sat comfortably in the back, your eyes traveling between the two men in the front. There was silence lingering in the car, the air thick with a lot of unspoken things. This was supposed to be a simple road trip, but obviously, these two were idiots, and not talking to each other.

"Minho, pull over," You snap, having had enough of this drama. "We need to talk. Right now."

"Right now? In the middle of this?" Minho asked, his eyes meeting yours in the rear view mirror.

"Now." You said firmly and he sighed, looking for somewhere safe to pull over.

"Babe, what-' Chan started, but you cut him off with a glare.

'Don't even start.' You warn him.

When Minho finally turns to face you after parking the car, you poke Chan on the shoulder, making him sigh and turn around as well.

"What's this, Y/N?" He sighed. 'Can't this wait?'

"You two could've been considerate and kept the fight for when we got home. Did you do that?" You ask and Chan falls silent.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't mean to-" Minho stopped mid sentence as you look away.

"You guys haven't talked in two days. And you won't even tell me what this is all about," you complain. 'I wanna know. Now."

"You don't." Chan said with a force that you've never seen him use on you before.

"I'd like to be the judge of that," You said, leaning forward. "What's wrong with you two?!"

"Babe, it's nothing important." Minho assures you, reaching for your hand.

"Keep lying to me, and what happens next won't be very important too." You snap.

"Just tell her, then." Chan says, his voice so low, and resigned.

"Chan, come on." Minho is shaking his head, totally against that idea.

"She wants to know, Min," Chan says, losing his patience. "Tell her."

"We were being stupid. Nothing to tell at all." Minho counters, turning away from you.

"WHAT THE FUCK IS IT?!"

Your voice rings through the car like an alarm, and the boys stare at you. That's definitely the first time you're raising your voice at them.

"Look its-' Minho begins.

"I love you." Chan says flatly.

You stare at the two, completely blank. Minho is also staring at Chan with his mouth falling open. It looks like he wants to say something, but also wants to kill Chan.

"What did you fight about?" You ask in a voice so low, it was barely audible over the rain.

"Y/N. Drop it." Minho says, his eyes pleading to you.

"Just fucking say it." Chan scoffs.

"Chan are you crazy?" Minho looks at Chan like he's sprouted horns out of nowhere.

"Minho."

"It's nothing!'

"MINHO."

"I LOVE YOU TOO. OK? HAPPY?!"

You sigh and sit back, your eyes moving between your two best friends.

"Was that so hard, Lino?" You ask, and Minho's head snaps up so fast, he may have sprained it. "You two are the biggest idiots I know."

Chan is much more composed at this point, his eyes narrowed at you, but otherwise normal. But Minho was definitely hyperventilating.

"What? Don't pretend like this wasn't cooking for years now." You say, and Minho just turns away and stares out of the window, completely silent.

"She's right, you know." Chan says with a shrug.

"Would you shut up for 2 minutes, Chan? I beg you." Minho's voice was so low and clipped, you and Chan share a look before you lean forward and touch his shoulder.

"Can you please tell me what's wrong, Min?' You ask softly.

"I'm doing my best here, Y/N. You don't want me back there." Minho says through clenched teeth.

"What if I do?" You ask in a small voice, and your eyes meet with Chan's again. If his eyebrows go up anymore, they would definitely go off the roof.

Minho turns to face you again, and you sit back, giving him a little shrug. And that's all it took.

Minho climbs into the back with you, his eyes dark with desire and he just looked so mad. He wastes no time in pulling you towards him, crushing his lips against yours in a hungry kiss. You moan into his mouth, your hands pulling him close. You feel Chan's eyes on you both, watching with an intensity that has your heart racing faster.

Minho nuzzles his way down to your neck, placing open-mouthed kisses along your soft skin. His hands wandered down your body, finding their place on your hips, before they wander under your shirt slowly.

And he pulls back just enough to look at you for permission. You nod, before pulling him close again. The rain outside and the steam inside the car were enough to set you both going.

Minhos's hands cup your breasts so gently, and he gives out a breathy moan as his fingers brush over nipples through your bra. His head dips down, as he takes one nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing it so gently with his tongue, over the soft fabric.

You whine softly as he fumbles with getting rid of your top and bra, and you feel his warm mouth directly on your nipple.

You look over at Chan, who's watching the two of you, his lower lip caught between his teeth. You reach out for him, and he takes your hand, pressing a quick kiss against your knuckles before moving to join you in the back.

His lips are on yours, silencing your muffled moans with his mouth. Your tongues move together, almost mirroring Minho's on your nipple. You were a little overwhelmed, feeling them both on you, the pleasure and warmth a bit too much.

Chan's hands wander down your body, and rests on the waistband of your jeans, his eyes seeking your permission silently.

"Please-" Was all you could say.

His fingers were quick, pushing your jeans and panties down your legs, and Minho helped pull them off your legs and toss them aside. He kisses you again, his lips so warm and wet and sweet.

Chan's hands are on your thighs, spreading your legs before slipping his fingers in. His fingers slide through the slick warmth of your folds and you gasp as he slips one finger, then two in. Your hips buck against his hand, as you press your eyes tightly shut.

"You're so fucking beautiful." Minho groans as his lips kiss their way down your body.

You finally see Chan and Minho working in perfect harmony, as if they hadn't been fighting the whole weekend. You whimper softly as Minho's tongue laps at your folds, humming in approval. You moan as his tongue teased your clit, sparks of pleasure ripping through you. And as his lips move lower, tongue running through your soft wet lips, you grip at his hair. He chuckles, and then slips his tongue into your slit so smoothly.

As if this wasn't enough, Chan leans forward, his mouth quickly replacing Minho's, his tongue swirling around your sensitive bud. You squirm under them, clearly overwhelmed. It's like you're floating, completely lost in the sensation.

And you have the most mind blowing orgasm you've ever had. You see stars behind your closed eyelids, as you cry out, trying to pull away as they continue to kiss and suck at you, as your core pulses.

You're panting, you can't even breathe anymore.

Minho is sitting up now, looking at you like he's so passionately in love with you, and leans in to kiss you again. You hum as you taste yourself on his lips, and you hands grip tightly at his shirt, pulling him closer.

Chan presses a kiss in the crooke of your neck, and you hold him close too.

"You good, baby?" Chan asks, his breath hot on your skin.

"So good, " You mumble. 'So good."

Minho and Chan exchange looks, and Chan is quickly out of his clothes and pulling out a little foil packet from the dashboard, throwing it to Minho, and then taking another one for himself. And positioning you under him, he's in between your legs in an instant.

"You want more, love?" Minho asks, and you look at him, and nod, a soft blush spreading on your cheeks.

The windows steamed up, as the rain continued to drum on the roof. Your nails dig into Minho's shoulder and as Chan picks up the pace. His hips slam into you with each powerful thrust. And you're falling apart under him.

There's no space to move around, especially with two men who are so much bigger than you are. Chan looks at you one last time, and you nod your consent. And he pushes in, slowly, filling you completely.

And when you ask him to move, he does, setting a slow rhythm. His strokes drove you crazy, so gentle, yet setting your insides on fire. Minho's hands roam your body, his fingers so gentle as he pinched your nipples.

Chan bends down to capture your swollen lips in a passionate kiss as he pounds into you. Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting him even deeper.

"Oh God," You moaned against Chan's mouth.

"Cum for us, baby," Chan murmurs into your lips, and that's all it takes.

Chan follows suit, his own orgasm hitting him like a freight train. He collapses on top of you, struggling to catch his breath. You run your fingers through his sweaty hair, and hes moaning against your neck.

Minho is so silent beside you, that you look at him, and see that hes watching the two of you, still completely dressed.

"You're overdressed, Lino." You whisper, and his eyes glimmer darkly as he starts undressing.

And Chan sits up slowly, pulling you up with him. You give him a confused look, but he winks at you before pulling you forward again. That's when you understand what's going on.

You're on your hands and knees now. In a car. In the middle of nowhere. In a storm.

Minho positioned himself behind you, his hands on your hips and his hard length at your entrance. With a gentle push, he slides in, and you both moan at that delicious stretch. Chan's lips are on yours, as Minho takes you from behind. His steady yet relentless pace has you whining into Chan's mouth.

You cry out again as you feel Minho's fingers in between your legs, and his touch sends shocks of pleasure through your body. Within minutes, your body quakes with another orgasm, and Chan holds you tight against him as you tremble in pleasure.

Minho is crashing into his own orgasm moments later, groaning. His thrusts slow, but he's not pulling out of you. He loves the feeling of being buried deep inside you and his hands caress your hips and butt gently.

Later, when he finally pulls out and the three of you snuggle close, you can't help but giggle, realizing fully what you've just done. Chan's the first to join you. Minho's cheeks are burning red, and he tries to stay reasonable here - but one look at the two of you, he was laughing too.

Sweaty and completely satisfied, you press a hand to your mouth to stop your giggles. And when you're finally back to normal, you glance at the boys, and ask, "So, what happens now?"

Minho sighs as he starts pulling on his clothes.

"Simple. You let us take you out. And see where this goes." Chan says with a shrug.

"Is that something you'd like to consider, jagi?" Minho asks, now looking you.

"Yes. I'd like that." You say, a small smile tugging at your lips.

You look at the two of them, considering this. You've known them forever, they're your everything. Of course you never thought this would happen. But at some point of time you did wish that you'll end up with one of them, at least. But here you are. With both.

"See, I told you. You were brooding for nothing." Chan says, and Minho just huffed in annoyance.

"You never know." Minho mutters, shaking his head.

"Now you do." Chan snaps back.

"Please don't tell me this is what you two were fighting about." You say, pulling on your own clothes.

"It's exactly what we were fighting about. I told him you love us both. He was afraid of scaring you away. I knew you're my little freaky baby - you'll be up for this." Chan wiggled his eyebrows.

"You didn't just call me a freak." You say, hitting him on the arm. "Lino, he called me a freak!"

Chris laughs and sits back, giving you an adoring look.

"Stop calling her that!"

"She just let us take her right here in the car in the middle of a storm. Thats-"

"Don't say it!" You warn.

"Oh my God." Minho climbs back into the driver's seat, and tells you two to shut up.

"Lino, are you shy, baby?" You ask with a grin, leaning forward to kiss his shoulder.

"Y/N." Minho warns you, but you can see that hes trying hard not to smile.

"See, that's what I'm talking about!" Chan said, laughing.

"Channie, I swear to god."

[verstapwn]

「 SUMMARY 」 — Red Bull's rich girl & Red Bull's golden boy are dating and everyones surprised.

「 PAIRINGS 」 — max verstappen x nepo baby!reader

「 WARNINGS 」 — suggestive, lestappen sex jokes lol, checo slander?.

「 AUTHOR'S NOTE 」 — y/n the founder of idgafstan. of course the title comes from one of my favorite frank ocean songs, super rich kids. y/n's dad is like the Lawrence stroll in this au, so she's a nepo baby (not a driver).

liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, and 991,531 others! yourusername we don't talk about my boyfriends thighs enough. ＠maxverstappen1

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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, and 1,326,493 others! maxverstappen1 My girlfriend everyone.. <3 ＠yourusername

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yourusername no fun caption :( i am wounded </3

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landonorris blink if you're being held captive by this woman

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welcome to my first fic! i hope you enjoyed everything :) <3 the faceclaim i used for 'y/n' is meret manon bannerman from katseye! she's gorg. not much i have to say tbh. see you in the next fic —— DELIA.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Wiped Out III

Fridolina Rolfö x Teen!Reader

Summary: Your first start of the season

Today was meant to be a good day.

Today was meant to be a great day.

It's your first start of the season.

Your parents are here to see you.

Your mother. Your father. Frido's parents too.

Today was meant to be perfect.

"You'll do great," Frido says, a soft kiss landing on the top of your head.

You don't answer her, suddenly feeling shy as you go and warm up.

"Which ones are your parents?" Ingrid asks as her eyes rove over the stands," They are coming today, right? I think Frido said."

"Over there." You point an errant hand over to the friends and family section.

Ingrid narrows her eyes as she takes in all the people sitting there. "I don't see them."

"There! By the aisle."

Ingrid's brow furrows. "That's Frido's parents."

She would recognise them anywhere. She's been in their house enough times to recognise them from a distance.

"No, they're mine. Papa always wears the blue shirt to my matches. He doesn't like jerseys."

"No. That's Frido's father."

"I think I can recognise my own father, Ingrid," You say with an eye roll.

"No. I'm sure-"

"Our father's are twins," Frido says in passing, handing you for bottle to drink from.

"They are?"

"Identical," You put in, passing Frido back her bottle," And our mums."

"What?"

"Our mums are identical twins too."

Ingrid looks between you and your cousin, mouth opening and closing for a moment before she sighs. "Your fathers, a pair of identical twins...married another pair of identical twins. And had you two?"

Frido doesn't answer.

But you do.

"Yeah? What's so confusing about that?"

"So you're sisters then."

"No," Frido snaps quickly, voice hard before she looks away," I mean, no. We're cousins."

"But I mean, genetically, you're siblings. If you're from two sets of identical twins..."

"We're not," Frido snaps again, shaking her head like the whole idea was stupid," We're cousins. Nothing more. Nothing less."

"Geez, Frido," You laugh, bumping your shoulder against hers," I'm trying not to be offended here. I'd be a great sister."

Frido's eyes soften like they always do when she looks at you and she fondly tugs on the lock of hair that always escapes your ponytail no matter what either of you do.

Ingrid doesn't push anymore on the topic, especially when it's so clear that Frido's got some strange hang up on it.

The match starts like any other and nothing seems out of the ordinary.

It's as intense as any other match is but just like every other match you've played in, Barcelona are solidly in control.

You frown a little as you and Mapi stand over a free kick, an odd twinge in the back of your leg that you rub. Maybe it's not in your leg actually, maybe it's actually in your chest.

A weird feeling that just won't settle.

You push it away though because this is your first free kick as a Barcelona player despite having been here a season now.

It was a new thing Pere was trying.

He'd been going over old film and came across an old set of videos of when you played for one of the Sweden youth teams. You'd been the dedicated free kick taker ever since you arrived, scoring goal after goal after goal no matter where you were on the pitch.

"Take it," Mapi says from behind her hand, trying to disguise the choice.

The twinge in your hamstring dampens as you push it from your mind, nodding.

Both you and Mapi take steps back.

She runs across you and then you move.

You know something is wrong the moment your foot touches grass.

The ball speeds from your strike, neatly landing in the top corner and passed the keeper's outstretched hand.

The team celebrate but you're on the ground.

Something between a squeak and a yelp make its way out of your mouth as your hamstring flares in pain.

The Johan erupts in noise at your first goal of the season but you can hear nothing over the roar in your ears and the pain in your leg.

Tears sting your eyes as a shadow falls over you.

Your cousin is there like she is every time you're injured like some kind of avenging angel.

But you don't want her right now.

You're in pain. You feel vulnerable. You feel like a little girl needing her boo boo kissed after scraping her skin at the park.

"Mama," You sob," I want Mama."

"It's okay," Frido tries to soothe you, something like confliction in her eyes," Come on. It's okay."

You grasp at her hand, squeezing tightly. "Frido, I want my Mama."

"Shh, shh, it's alright. It's going to be okay."

The medics rush on quickly as well and you try to kick them away with your one good leg.

"Stop...Stop!" You shriek when they touche your injury.

"We need to get her off," One of them says and Frido nods.

"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!" You may be injured, in tears and vulnerable but you'd like to keep some essence of your already shattered dignity.

"Can you stand?" Frido asks, tenderly brushing your cheek with her hand.

"I..." You want to say yes but you know the correct answer. You shake your head.

"We're going to need a stretcher," One of the medics speaks into their radio and within a minute or so, you're being helped into it.

You catch Frido's hand as she walks with you to the touchline.

"You'll tell them to get Mama?"

Frido blinks away some of her own tears. "I'll...I'll tell them to send auntie."

It takes barely an hour for the diagnosis to come back.

A torn hamstring.

A torn hamstring that needs surgery.

Which means months out of football, months of recovery and rehab.

You wonder briefly if you'll get to go to the Euros this summer.

Sweden still haven't qualified yet. You won't be apart of the squad for that campaign but if they do qualify, you wonder if you'll be back and strong enough to join the Euros team.

Mama holds your hand though.

Papa and Uncle and Auntie are still in the stands watching Frido but Mama is with you, holding your hand as you suck on a green whistle to take the edge off.

She presses a soft kiss to the top of your head as her hands gently card through your hair.

You stopped crying a while ago as you nestle into her, head on her chest like you used to do to her and Frido when you were little.

The sounds of studs on flooring alerts you to your cousin coming and you sit up just as the door swings open.

"Hey," She says, panting.

"Hey," You reply.

She squishes onto the other side of your bed. It's a tight fit but Frido makes it work, taking your other hand. "So...What are we looking at?"

"Torn hamstring," Your Mama replies," She's going to need surgery."

"I hate it when you two talk over me."

"How long are we thinking she'll be out?"

"Six months."

"No!" You huff, drawing the attention of your Mama and Frido. "He said six months are the latest. Three months minimum. I'll be ready in three months."

Frido and your Mama exchange twin looks.

"I'll be ready then! I will!"

Mama continues to stroke through your hair and Frido squeezes your head.

"Recovery takes time," You cousin says," You shouldn't rush things."

"I'm not going to rush things. I'm not an idiot, Frido. But I will be ready in three months and I'll be healthy for the rest of the season. And then we'll compete in the Euros. Like we said we would."

Your Mama sighs. "You're both just as stubborn as each other. You get it from Frido you know."

Frido tenses a barely imperceptible amount next to you.

"How did I get it from Frido?" You laugh," Via telepathy?"

"Yeah," Frido laughs too but it doesn't meet her eyes," Something like that."

[entitled-fangirl]

Sweet mama.

Joel Miller x reader

Summary: Joel gets baby fever watching the reader play with Tommy and Maria's baby.

Author's note: don't think too hard about the timeline please and thank you. Also, I got baby fever this weekend, so I figured I'd make everyone else have it, too. Also also- I use they/them for the baby since the gender hasn't been revealed in the show

Masterlist

...............................................................

Oh, God. She was all that occupied his mind at the moment. 

Life in Jackson was not exactly what Joel had in mind, but even he'd admit, it had its perks. 

For example, this scene in front of him.

Y/N on the floor of their shared home with Tommy and Maria's baby.

At first, Joel had very much disliked the idea of babysitting for the night when Tommy asked. But how could he have said no when he saw the way Y/N's face lit up at the very thought?

So, he obviously said yes.

But now, here they were actually doing it. 

He was sat on the dusty couch with an old can of beer he had found, sipping occasionally when he fell out of his daydreams. 

How can he not enjoy the way she interacted with the kid?

He had seen just how fantastic she could be with Ellie.

Y/N had been with Joel a little less than Tess had. They had had a rocky start, especially right at the beginning.

She was a friend of Bill and Frank's. And Frank had decided that they should meet.

But he knew telling both parties about it would only cause conflict. 

So, he didn't tell them at all.

Imagine their surprise when unsuspected visitors appeared in the middle of Y/N's and Frank's tea time. 

She pulled her gun on Joel.

Things were tense for a while after that.

But, after some time, they found that they liked each other very much.

Sometimes, Joel worried that they liked one another a little too much.

"You know," Joel finally said to her. "I haven't even been around a kid like this since… well, when it was Sarah, I guess."

She looked up from her spot on the ground as the baby played with the wooden blocks in front of them, "Really?"

He nods, "Don't even know if I remember what to do. Thank God I got you."

She laughs, "You were the one that was a parent. I was just an older sister. That's how I got my experience."

He shrugs, "You have a gift for it."

She smiles, grabbing the 10-month-old. The baby giggles as she lifts them into the air. She walks to the couch, "Here." She holds out the baby to him.

He holds his hands up in surrender, "Nah. You're doing great, Sweetheart. I won't stop ya."

She scoffs, holding the baby close to her chest now with a teasing scoff, "Whatever, Miller."

"I'm serious," He argues, "I like watching you like this. Happy and… God, this looks so fucking natural for you."

"Joel!" She yelled. "Language."

He laughs, "See? You're…" He sighs in thought.

She notices, "What?"

He smiles and shakes his head, "In another world, sweet girl…"

She tilted her head, "Joel, I'm confused."

He stands up, inches from her face now. He gently takes the baby out of her arms and places them in the makeshift playpen. He returns to her quickly.

His arms grab her waist gently. His voice lowers, "If life was different, I'd give you a baby right now."

Her cheeks turned pink, "What?"

He laughs as he buries his face into her neck, "Think about it. You'd be a beautiful mother. God, I'd give you a baby."

Her gaze started to turn hopeful. She had never thought about having a baby. 

Her thoughts turned dirty as he started to kiss up her neck slowly.

"A sweet mama." Kiss. "Walking around here with my baby in you." Kiss. "Making every man in here green with envy." Kiss. "You'd be so pretty like that." Kiss. "God, you'd just glow more than you do now."

"Joel…?"

He pulled away at her weak voice.

She looks away in thought. "Do you think… if… if this whole 'cure' thing works with Ellie… You think there may actually be a world we could have a baby in? Where… we could be parents?"

He takes in her features carefully, not realizing just how much his words had affected her. "Well… I… I don't know." 

She nods and pulls away from him completely, her wishful thinking over, "Right." She walks back to the baby in the playpen, "Not worth even hoping for."

He pulls her back into his firm chest, and circles her waist with his arms, "Hey. Don't say that. We'll just… leave it on the back burner. Yeah?"

She nods. "Back burner. Okay."

The two watch the baby in front of them play happily, blissfully unaware of the world they all lived in.

…

Y/N sat in the backseat with an unconscious Ellie.

She was still shaking at the sight of seeing Joel in a murderous rage in the hospital.

She knew he was protective of her and Ellie but she had never seen him do anything like that before.

She cradled the girl's head carefully in her lap, gently running her fingers through Ellie's greasy hair. 

She looked up to catch Joel's eyes in the rearview mirror. "Guess we're not getting that cure, are we?"

He shook his head, "Guess not."

"Say goodbye to the chance at parenthood." She sighed.

They sat in silence for a while.

She watched Ellie carefully to check for signs of her waking up.

And she heard Joel's light chuckle.

She looked up, "What?"

He looked at her though the mirror again, "Nothing, sweet mama."

"I'm not… this is…" She glanced down at Ellie, and back up at Joel. 

She smiled slowly as she reveled in Joel's observance.

"I guess…" she noted, "I guess we've already been doing it."

Joel nodded, "Guess it really was made for you."

................................................

[zephyrchama]

🎁🥔

Beelzebub and Mammon made their presence very well known when they entered the living room, with heads held high and chests puffed out proudly. They were a little sweaty and disheveled but strangely upbeat. Beelzebub was clearly concealing something behind his back. Mammon had his nose pointed so far up, it was almost a challenge to the Avatar of Pride's moniker.

You looked up from the couch and asked, "What's up, guys?" Feeling for all the world like a kindergarten teacher about to play a game with their students.

"We got you something," Beelzebub said with a pleasant smile. It was almost entirely drowned out by Mammon's loud boasting.

"You won't believe what I found. You're 'bout to be real grateful, so get our praise ready."

They plopped down into seats on either side of you, Beelzebub careful not to jostle the mystery in his hand.

It wasn't every day they made a big deal out of giving you something. Normally, they'd just do it. Your interest was piqued. "What is it?"

They smirked at each other. Both demons wanted to drag out the suspense, but were also too impatient to wait much longer. Still in their school uniforms, they probably rushed straight home as soon as they procured their present. After grinning for several prolonged seconds in self-satisfaction, Mammon snapped his fingers dramatically. "Show 'em, Beel!"

Beelzebub placed the gift in your lap as if it were made of the finest glass.

It was a potato.

"A human world potato," Beelzebub explained, as if there was any doubt.

"Ya don't see this in the Devildom everyday. We thought you'd like a human treat every once 'n a while."

It was green and wrinkly, with multiple spuds sprouting out the top. It looked like somebody had dropped it behind a shelf and found it months later through smell alone. It was impossible to discern if it had been washed recently or if, at this point, the slimy and moist texture was just this tuber's natural state of existence.

Two sets of eyes filled with anticipation were locked on to your face, scrutinizing its every move. They were waiting for their shower of praise. You forced an awkward smile and laughed with strained excitement. "A potato! Wow, thanks guys!"

"What are you gonna make with it?" Beelzebub was eager to know.

"I'm not sure." You gazed at the gift. You kind of wanted to fling it off your legs before your skin started crawling. Though, you couldn't insult the brothers after their hard work. It was time to start lying through your teeth. "I'm so touched. Really. That you went and got... this potato for me. I kind of want to keep it as a memento!"

Mammon waved his hand to dismiss your idea. "Nah, don't hold back! I paid a pretty hefty sum to get a hold a' this, y'know."

Your heartstrings twinged with guilt. To avoid stirring Beelzebub and his endless stomach, Mammon leaned over towards your ear. "Fry it, bake it, boil it. It's all yours," he whispered. "'Long as you're happy, yeah?"

You were not happy. Every day with these demons brought a fresh source of stress. At least you were never dull.

"Solomon once said that green vegetables are good for humans," Beelzebub revealed.

You twirled your head around so fast that you accidentally bumped Mammon in the nose and asked, "You actually took food advice from Solomon?"

"Only after Belphie confirmed it," he clarified. So they did do their research.

While that was usually true, this was an incredibly unfortunate exception. You could not bring yourself to consume the sad green potato. You needed a new idea.

"Can human plants be cultivated in the Devildom? I want to plant this, and then we'll have more potatoes we can all share." The wet sensation on your leg only grew more unpleasant and you wanted to get rid of it as soon as possible. "Let's go plant it out back and see."

The siblings began talking over one again again, saying, "My human's got a heart of gold" and "I'd like that" while squeezing you with bear hugs from either size. It jostled the potato and you feared it would start leaking more.

"Let's go, let's go!" you ushered, eager to give this old vegetable a proper burial. You could vaguely hear Mammon brag to his younger brother, "I told you this was a great idea, they're gonna be thankin' us for weeks," as you raced towards the doorway.

[jessnotfoundd]

Friends- Lando Norris (Mirror Sex)

20! KINKTOBER! MINORS DNI

Remember this contains sexual descriptions, nudity, and intercourse.

Lando and I had been friends since kids, until last year, when he needed to get married to someone quickly because of his mafia business. We lived in a huge property in Monaco but I am always used to being alone. I was ready for bed when a loud bang caught my attention. I run in its direction. The kitchen.

He was standing there, with cuts and bruises on his face.

"What happened?" I ask completely worriedly, he wasn't one to take hits.

"Got to sleep" his tone is cold, like always.

"Lan" I whisper, walking to him. Avoiding eye contact he washes his cuts in the sink, splashing his face with cold water.

"Like I said, go to bed," He says in the same emotionless tone. But I stubbornly step closer to him. "Why are you coming closer?" he looks at me over his shoulder.

"I want to check on you... please" I whisper, still worried about his cuts' deepness.

He lets out a heavy sigh "It's nothing... I'm fine" I take the cloth he's holding, my eyes maintaining eye contact with him. "I'm truly fine, I don't need your help" he mutters.

"I know, but still" I start to work on his cuts "Let me" I smile weakly.

"You're so damn stubborn" Grumbling under his breath he finally gives in, letting me work on his cuts, resting his waist against the counter.

I pay attention to his face, seems like he doesn't feel any hurt from the cuts at all. His stare is fixed on me as I take care of him.

"Yep, I am" I smirk. "You don't have to act like you're not hurting...not with me" I turn his face to the side.

"Hmph" mumbles and stays quiet as I continue to take care of him.

I take his eyes on me, I knew he was trying to suppress his vulnerability. He clears his throat, trying to regain his composure.

"You don't have to be so gentle. I've had worse" He tries to sound nonchalant, but deep down he appreciates my concern, even though he would never admit it.

"Just because you had worse before, doesn't mean you have to be rough" I stop for a minute to look at him.

"I've got a reputation to maintain... you know" He says, half-jokingly, the corner of his mouth curving up in the smallest smile possible.

"Not with me" I go back to clean the last cuts and dry blood.

He raises an eyebrow, his eyes locking onto mine. "Oh really? you think it's easy to let my guard down around you just because you're my wife?"

"I mean, it should, we were friends..."

He lets out a humorless laugh.

"I've spent my entire life hiding behind walls. Letting my guard down is not something I'm used to doing, especially not around you... you know a lot"

"Especially not around me," I repeat. "Woah"

He could tell that hurt.

"I didn't mean it like that, it's just ... you make me feel things I'm not used to feeling... it's " He looks away. "Uncomfortable"

"I know... but I could be your walls, you can rely on me"

He moves his eyes and I can see the relief and vulnerability at my words. Knowing he might be feeling the necessity of pulling me away, but I also knew I was carving my way through his heart.

"You don't know what you're saying" He sighs.

"I know exactly what I'm saying"

"It's not that simple. Letting someone in means I'd have to be vulnerable, and I have enemies all around me... I can't afford to be vulnerable" he speaks his mind.

I hold his cheeks "You don't have to be tough all the time."

"I've been tough my whole life. I can't just change that, even for the sake of being vulnerable with you" He takes a few deep breaths, trying to keep his emotions in check. "you're making this hard for me, you know that?" He lets out another deep sigh. "God, you have no idea the power you have over me" He murmured quietly.

"I do?" I smile, knowing I have made my way.

He nods slightly, his eyes still locked on mine. "Yes, you do. You can make me feel things I thought I was incapable of feeling. You challenge all the walls I’ve built up over the years, and you make me want to tear them all down for you. It’s both maddening and terrifying at the same time"

I kiss the tip of his nose.

"Why do you have to be so damn gentle?" he whispers.

"Just with you" I whisper back.

I feel his facial expression soften under my touch, Even though he's always portrayed as cold and aloof, knowing the effect I have on him. He gently grabs my wrist, leaving my hands still on his cheeks.

"You're such a bad influence on me, you know that?" His tone is half serious, half teasing.

"Oh, since we were fifteen" I joke and he lets out a low laugh, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You seem positively gleeful about it too. My little troublemaker" He squeezes my wrists lightly. Keeping his hold on me. He steps closer to me, closing the distance between our bodies. "You shouldn't have this much power over me..." He whispers and closes his eyes for a few seconds. "Why can't I resist you?" He murmurs, his voice laced with both frustration and longing.

"Well, I think it's because of how pretty I am," I say and he laughs lowly, opening his eyes, meeting my gaze again.

"Well it's certainly not because of your modesty" He jokes with a smile.

"Or maybe you can't resist me because of the way I do your favorite foods, or I take care of your wounds." I list and he raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, so you think you've won me over with your cooking skills and your nursing abilities? just feeding and patching me up like a lost puppy?" he chuckles, trying to brush off the sincerity of your words.

"The way I take your cock" I whisper and see him choking on his breath, clearly not expecting me to say something so boldly. He looks away for a moment.

"You can't just blurt something like that out," he says, his voice slightly hoarse.

"How I take your backshots" I continue listing, a light blush on display on my face.

He groans, his eyes closing as your words continue to affect him. He's starting to lose his grip on his own self-control.

"Jesus Christ" he curses under his breath, not able to focus on anything but the images of my words planted on his head. He opens his eyes, his gaze locking onto mine. "you're trying to kill me, aren't you? driving me insane with those filthy words of yours"

He moves his hands from my wrist to my hips pressing me against him.

"I'm just listing why you can't resist me" I smirk.

He growls. "Well. your listing is not helping your case. If you keep going, I won't be able to hold back any longer" he says through gritted teeth.

"Yeah, what do you have in mind?"

He hesitates for a moment, and I sense his eyes roaming over my face and body.

"You really want to know what I have in mind?" He asks, his voice thick with desire.

"Maybe I can tell you what I have in mind" I whisper closer to his ear.

I feel the shiver that goes over his body as he feels my breath against his ear. "And what do you have in mind, princess?" he asks, his fingers digging into the flesh of my hips.

"Remember that big mirror I made install in front of the bed? the large one..." I hint, hoping he knows what I'm implying.

"Oh, the large mirror," he says with a sly smirk slowly spreading across his face. Knowing exactly what I'm implying. "You're playing a dangerous game here, you know that? Teasing me like this, whispering your dirty thoughts in my ear"

I hold his hand. intertwining our hands, walking him to our room. Once we are in the room, I make him sit on the bed, untying the strips of my bed dress and he holds my now just in underwear-covered hips.

"You're so damn beautiful" He murmurs under his breath, his eyes darkened with a mix of lust and admiration. He pulls me closer, making me straddle his lap. He ran his hands over my body, feeling the warmth of my skin under his fingers, His eyes roaming over every inch of me. "You drive me insane," He says through gritted teeth, his hands grabbing my ass now.

"I want you to fuck me Lando, I need it."

He groans, his grip on my ass tightening at my blunt words. "Princess you have no idea how much those words make me want to lose control" He murmurs, voice thick with raw hunger.

I kiss him, forcing his back to be on the bed.

He allows me to push him down into the bed, kissing me back fiercely, any remnants of his previous control completely gone now. Both of us are completely consumed by desire.

"Let me show you how proud i am to be yours" I whisper, my eyes on his, so he can see the truth in my words.

"You... you're proud to be mine?" his voice is laced with a hint of vulnerability.

"Always have" I whisper getting rid of his shirt.

He helps me discharging his shirt, his eyes never leaving mine. His hands moved to grip my waist too.

"on the bed" He whispers against my ear and I shiver from head to toe. I do as he says. "Good girl" He can tell I am growing impatient. "Doesn't the princess like to be teased?" He moves his finger from my neck to the waistband of my panties.

"No" I grind against him, trying to keep my composure. "Please Lando" I whisper, growing desperate for him to just touch me everywhere.

"So impatient..." he scatters kisses all over my neck "But since you've asked so nicely" he murmurs, his fingers slowly slipping underneath the fabric of the underwear.

"Please" I arch my back a bit "No teasing..." I hold his shoulders.

"Is that how you ask for something you want, princess?" his fingers now hovering over my folds. "You want me to touch you here?" he smirks and I nod frantically.

He flops me on the bed, my back now on the soft mattress, breaking the kiss to get rid of his clothes, leaving me to enjoy the view of him stripping the suit like he was burning, my hand unconsciously slipping down to my folds where his hand was a few seconds ago.

"What are you doing? he says when he notices my hand replacing the now empty spot. "Such a needy little princess, aren't you?" he smirks "On your fours," he says and I do. "Such a good girl", and seconds later, my panties are ripped out of my body.

He reaches out, his hand grabbing my hips. "I love how desperate you are for me, princess, you're all mine now" he whispers, positioned behind me, teasing my entrance.

"P-please lando" I move my head trying to catch sight of him, but I bury my face in the covers when I feel the sting of his hand against my ass. Making me let out a loud moan.

He grabs my hair in a ponytail and makes me look up. The sight of us in the mirror is arousing. "Look at us," he whispers right to my ear.

He starts to move, and my eyes close in pleasure. His moves are short and slow but hard, I could practically feel the budge on my stomach.

"F-faster" I lift my ass, looking at the reflection in the mirror, our bodies now made all one. He speeds the shots, my back arching.

"Does that feel good, princess?" he smacks my ass again and nod. "Words... I need words."

"Y-yes" I grip the sheets.

He pulls my hair a bit harder. "Look how pretty you look while taking me," he whispers, kissing my back. I want you to make a mess." He's now holding my face in the mirror's direction. "Look how pretty you are taking my cock" he slaps sighty my cheek.

I let out a ragged moan, feeling the heat pooling in my lower belly, knowing I was close.

"I'm c-close," I say, Trying to hold on.

He turns me around, laying me back on the bed again. Missionary this time.

"I want to see you come undone," he smirks, moving his hands to pay attention to my breast, but stops to guide my face to see us in the mirror again. "Look how good you look with me balls buried inside you" I clench around him and he moans.

A few seconds later I release, all over his cock. "La-lando" he keeps moving but I'm too sensitive. He takes his cock out to release on my stomach. I see everything in the reflection in the mirror.

"So pretty, my cum all over your body" he lays down beside me, both of us trying to even our breaths.

After a few minutes he cleans me up and we close our eyes to sleep.

[bluetimeombre]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ And I wouldn't marry me, either part 2

You were Azriel's mate, but it took losing you three times for him to realise.

[thank you for the love on part one, I’m so happy Azriel is getting the love he deserves!!!! This is another long one, another 6k. But I’ve learnt a new love for writing about him and i have so many ideas. This is a continuation and final part, part one here. Enjoy]

warnings: references to sexual assault and references to suicide. nothing explicit but please don't read if this is sensitive to you.

The third time Azriel almost lost you, he was pretty sure he lost a part of himself.

They'd all gone into battle, knowing that Hybern had the numbers to match and the advantage. But they'd all gone to fight in spite of that.

It had took some time for you to get the boys to agree to let you fight- you'd trained and grew up with all three of them but this was fighting on another scale. Although, if they were going, there really wasn't much they could say to get you to stay.

You were clad in Illyrian leathers just like them, armed with weapons and power.

The first battle was over quicker than you'd anticipated. Hybern soldiers surrendered, Tarquin drowned them on land. You'd suffered little, only falling on bed exhausted by the end of the day. Sadly, you were sharing a tent with Cassian and Azriel. It was like you were young again, all sleeping in the same room. It was a habit you'd done when you were young- all looking out and protecting each other.

The only difference was that Cassian snored as he got older.

But the next battle was worse.

It was bigger than last. Hybern's forces had doubled, seemingly at of nowhere, cutting their forces apart.

It was chaos, everywhere. Every corner there was fighting and bleeding and dying. There was pain all around you. Pain you felt like it was your own.

You used all your power, as much as you could to kill and protect. From the corner of your eyes you could see Azriel fight. Your Azriel, weaving in and out of people. Your mate. He was alive. And that was all you cared about.

But you didn't realise how much you'd been pushing herself and draining your power. Every time you stopped, you swayed on your feet, stumbling.

One of Hyberns men came for you as you were crouched and you barley blocked with your sword, rolling onto your back and slashing his arm off.

Not before he landed a sword in your thigh.

It had been deep burning and you yelled, yanking it out. Even with the wound, you kept fighting and fighting your way through until you saw a blaze of red and a familiar cry.

Cassian.

He'd been run through.

It was easy to push past exhaustion and winnow to his side, killing the man who'd been near him and any others that had been close enough. You fall to your knees next to him. 'Cassian, you prick.'

'You kiss your mate with that mouth,' he gasped. He was the only one who knew about Az and the bond. The only one you'd allow to make jokes.

You look down to his wound and gaged. Mother above, his guts were hanging out. 'No, no, no, come on, big guy, you have to stand.'

He groaned. 'Yea, don't think I can do that, sweetheart,' his eyes, lulled back.

You slap him in the face. Perhaps you wouldn't have felt guilt if it weren't for the way his eyes widened. 'You know I hate being called that.'

He laughed as his stomach and all its contents heaved out. Ignoring the pain in you, you hold his stomach, keeping him together. 'I promised Nesta i'd look after her,' he said. 'Please look after her.'

'Do it yourself,' you groaned.

Finally, Azriel came to your side and picked Cassian up like it was nothing, flying him to the tents. If only you still had your wings, you could have done it, saved him quicker.

Then, you were thrown back into the battle. Covered in his blood and yours, you fought through them all, slashing and killing like it was nothing. Like you had no reason to bat an eyelash at anything happening.

Eventually, it ended, but you couldn't even concentrate on who won or how much you'd lost. Your head ached, your leg was tied up in a bloody bandage ripped from your clothes. But none of that mattered.

Cassian was in bed, healing slowly. But he would live, everyone could tell. Especially with the way he picked fights. He argued with Rhys about throwing himself into danger, him and Nesta appeared to be having words with their eyes. Even Mor and Feyre argued. You were the only one silent with Azriel in the back. Too exhausted to even open your mouth.

That night, you tied up your wounds and fell asleep without changing.

It only got worse.

Elain- Feyre's sister and the most precious- was stolen from Hybern. You had only agreed to go and save her with a few selected others because your mate was in that few selective others.

It hadn't escaped your notice how he looked at her, was watchful over her like he once was with you. You saw the tick in his jaw at the news she was gone. You knew that this was the reason you hadn't told him. Knowing that he deserved someone like her, better than you. Kind and hopeful. You weren't. So the only thing you could do was watch your mate find love in someone else.

And you'd do it grudgingly but happy for him.

Azriel had took of with her. You and your high lady fought, fought through ash arrows and everything.

'You should get out of her, y/n,' said Feyre.

You groaned as an arrow skimmed your shoulder. Another had already got your hip. 'If you try to order me out of here, i'll be really pissed off at you.'

'I don't care if it gets you out!' she snapped, arguing like a real sister would.

'Yea, well- I was never one to listen to Rhys either.'

And Azriel was gone. Everything was fine.

You and Feyre ran, ran even as Tamlin defended you, ran until-

An arrow hit you in the back, straight to one of your old wing scars.

You tumbled, rolling on the ground as it broke and imbedded in your back. You screamed, in spite of yourself.

'You have to fly,' someone was telling you. Or saying it in general, frankly you had no idea what was going on. 'You have to take her.'

You rolled onto your stomach, groaning and trying to get yourself up. There was blood running down your arm, how did that get there?

'Y'n.'

You groaned, 'Azriel. I can't fly.'

'I know, I know- i've got you.' He picked you up, arm under your legs and around your shoulders.

'Elian, Azriel-'

'Feyre has her,' he told you. He sounded angry. Or afraid. Somehow his emotions were very easy to mix up.

'Feyre isn't strong enough.'

'She'll have to be.'

'You should take them, Elian-'

'I don't give a fuck about Elian right now, y'n.'

Just like that, he took off with you in his arms and your blood raining down on the camp of Hybern. You could barley hear anything over the wind... but you could feel it.

Something had tugged painfully at the bond, throwing you into a scream. Something had happened to Azriel. You twisted in his arms, finding gashing claw marks in his back from one of the hounds that had chased them down. His face was bleached white in pain, his hold on you tight.

Glancing around, you could just see Feyre in a blur of people.

'Azriel-' you gasped. He was in pain, so much pain.

He didn't say anything, just squeezed you tighter and looking ahead, barking orders as Feyre flew for the first time in need, in desperation. You remembered what that was like, trusting your life in them. But Azriel's wings, they were bleeding out. You remembered the pain. You'd go through it every day to spare him a minute of it.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You and Azriel landed back in the camp in a blur of pain.

Even with him leaving a trail of blood, he managed to set you down like you were porcelain. You didn't cry out. You didn't yell for help. You threw his arm over your shoulder and supported him.

Nesta and Rhys rushed to Feyre.

You hated your brother for a long moment.

Elain wondered over, chained but whole.

Azriel moved from you, checking on Elian. You only managed to watch them as she kissed his cheek.

The pain came to you then. Your head, shoulder, back. You turned from the crowd of family. Elain moved to hug her sister, Rhys stayed at Feyre's side.

Thesan, someone you barley knew as more than a healer, came to you first but you pushed him away, pushed him to Azriel. 'His wings. Heal him, or i'll rip you to pieces.'

He didn't have to be told twice.

You stumbled your way to camp, to your little tent. You didn't share it with Cassian anymore as he was still healing and Azriel would be a while- needing healing of your own.

You collapsed on the bed, promising to look after yourself- just after your nap.

You were so fast asleep you didn’t even hear Azriel come in and sigh at the sight of you…

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Azriel was fighting when it happened. Specifically, when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

No, he wasn't completely healed. But he had to fight. He wouldn't push himself, he knew that would be stupid. But he wouldn't watch as everyone fought. As you fought. He'd hardly seen you. He knew your back would be in pain. He knew you'd be in pain and you were still fighting, so far from him and out of reach.

He was thinking of you when it snapped.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

His soul sang it, his heart rose with it.

His shadows whispered it.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

y/n.

And the first thing he felt over the bond wasn't happiness or love. It was pain. It was death.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

In spite of the pain in his wings, how he'd been told not to fly, he did. He jumped into the skies, soaring over armies and dead to find you. He followed that pain, he followed the bond until he found you.

You, lying in your own blood. Again.

He fell next to you, his power eradicating anywhere near you. They dissovled, the ground cracked under him and his syphons shone in raw power.

'y/n?' he held your body, shaking you. Blood, so much. A sword had torn through your gut. 'Don't do this to me.'

Mate. Mate. Mate.

You cough, a thin stream of blood rolling from your lips. 'Azriel?'

'You're mine,' it was the first thing he could bring himself to say. 'You're my mate. Y/n. You have to hold on, ok? I'm gonna-gonna get you to safety.'

Something like a laugh escaped you, your body wracking with it. 'Of course, finally snaps for you as i'm dying.'

Snaps for you. Mate. Mate.

She knows, his shadows sung. She's known.

Azriel called out to Rhys in every way he could. 'We're gonna be fine. We're gonna be mates, y/n. You have to live, you understand?'

'Not really.' your eyes flutter shut.

'No!' he yelled, shaking you again.

'What's happened?' Rhysand landed next to him, blanking when he saw you in Azriel's arms, bleeding to death. How many times did this have to happen? How many times would you throw yourself into danger?

'She's my mate,' Azriel repeated. He tested it out loud, speaking it to the mother. How cruel was she? to give him this then try to take her away. Well, the mother wouldn't get that chance. Azriel would fight her if she tried to lay a hand on your life.

'What?' said Rhys.

'My mate,' he all but growled as Rhys got closer.

He put a hand on the back of Azriels neck, a hand on your head. 'We have to save her, Az.' he knew all about mating of course, knew that Azriel wanted nobody around her. But this was too save her. 'She's my sister too, the last sister I have. I care about her to.'

Azriel wanted to throw a thousand insults his way but refrained. If not because he was high lord, but also because you were dying.

They got you to safety, Azriel carrying you through to a tent.

'Y/n?!' Cassian rushed over, seeing you in his brothers arms, bleeding out and unresponsive.

Azriel pushed past him, setting you down on the bed. 'Get everyone, every healer now.' He had no idea who he was trying to demand, but he couldn’t watch this, couldn’t see you in.

You were still in your bed. Behind him, Feyre rushed to her mate, wrapping her arms around his torso as your brother stared at you in muted horror.

Azriel was leaning over you, sitting on the edge of the bed. ‘She’s my mate.'

'What?' Said Cassian, ‘She told you?'

Azriel felt the world stop around him. Not did you know about the bond and hadn’t told him, you’d told someone else? Cassian? His hand stilled in brushing your hair back, his shadows coaxing you instead.

Rhysand spoke what Azriel wanted to scream. 'You knew?'

'She-She told me,'

Azriel had always had an iron fist control on his emotions, as relied on to be spy master, he had to. But his patience was hanging on by a thread. You were still bleeding out and nobody had come and Cassian knew. Cassian knew about his mate before he did.

His shadows caressed you and, leaving you in the coolness of their touch, he leapt up, marching around the bed toward him.

Rhys was quicker, a hand on Azriels chest to stop him. 'Calm, brother.'

'Calm?' He seethed. 'When-how long have you known?' He shouted.

Cassian breathed out, pushing his hair back . His wings were tucked in behind him. 'She told me, before she went under the mountain.'

Even Rhysand let him go, blowing out air and throwing his arms over his head as Feyre gasped.

Azriel stumbled, a hand to his chest. His shadows were divided between him and caring for you. 'Fifty years,' he gasped.

You’d known for fifty years- possibly longer and hadn’t said a word.

He was panicking, his breath escaping him. His shadows settled uneasy around him. And the only person who was capable of calming him was laying unconscious.

Thesan burst in, knowing the injured already and working on you quickly.

Azriel almost launched at him, just for touching you. The reasonable part of him knew he needed to touch to heal, but the part that was your mate wanted him dead.

Cassian held him back, physically.

Azriel glowered at him. 'I wouldn’t touch me if i were you, brother,' he practically spat the words.

Rhysand left Feyre with a kiss on her cheek, coming to Azriel who was looking over you on the other side. 'Az, you need to rest-you’re hurt, too, remember?'

He shook his head, staring down at you. Mother above you were pale, so pale. 'I-I can’t feel anything Rhys, I can’t feel her through the bond.'

'My sister is a fighter, she’ll make it through.'

Azriel scoffed. His shadows were caressing up and down your arm. ‘Don’t pretend you’ve ever cared about her like a brother.'

Rhysand inhaled sharply. This was just fear, he told himself. 'Azriel.'

'No,' he said, his finger brushing back your hair. 'You only care about her when she’s dying and all y/n does is worship you- ever since you were children.'

Cassian tried to advance, 'Azriel, you wouldn’t be saying any of this if y/n wasn’t hurt.'

He laughed, bitterly. 'No, I wouldn’t. I wouldn’t have to. I’d bite my tongue. But your sister is dying and the last time you cared was the last time she almost died- it killed her to lose her wings and you were never there! And you teach your mate to fly right in front of her!'

Rhys growled. ‘Don’t bring my mate into this!'

‘You’ve brought mine into this!' He yelled. 'Everything she does is for you. Working for you. My mate followed you down to the mountain even when you didn’t care.'

'Of course I cared.'

'Then why did she feel so alone down there!'

‘How would you know, Azriel? You weren’t there!'

'Because I know her, bond or not. And you’ve been otherwise occupied.'

Cassian moved between the two, holding them apart. 'None of this matters to y/n does it.'

Azriel blankes them all, settling next to you. He vaguely heard Cassian send Rhysand and Feyre away. He felt him longer before he felt him leave.

And then all Azriel could feel, was you.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

You felt pain first. The steady thumping of it through your body. It started in your leg, numbing it. Then, her back ached- a familiar pain you'd felt before. It sent panic through you before you realised they can't take your wings twice.

Then, it was in your gut, stinging. Just the thought of moving was hurting- aching.

There was a coldness around you, draped over like shadows. Shadows...

That's when you felt the tug that you'd neglected to feel for more than half a century.

The bond. There was finally something tied to the other end.

The shadows around you must've known you were awake as they grew frantic around you.

You opened your eyes, slowly, afraid to what you may see. Afraid to the eyes you'll have to meet.

Azriel was sat on a chair next to you, bare chested with only bandages around him. Immediately, you were at a disadvantage. He was looking at you, dark eyes pouring into yours as his hands curled around shadows.

'What happened?' you asked.

'You were run through,' he said, voice wavering.

'Oh.'

'You're my mate.'

Your eyes flickered away, staring at your tent. 'Oh.'

'That's it?' he whispered. There was some heart-break tainting his voice. 'You're not gonna say something?'

You pulled the blanket over you, daring to move to sit up. He shifted, but his shadows helped you. 'What do you want me to say, Az?'

'Why did you tell Cassian and not me?' he asked. 'Why didn't you tell me, for fifty years?'

'It's-it's not a big deal.'

'Not a big deal?' he all but seethed. 'I'd say finding your mate is a pretty big thing, y/n. It's the person to spend the rest of your life with.'

'Can we not, do this now?' you winced, as the words left your mouth.

'You're right, maybe we should wait another fifty years to bring it up when you're dying.' you've never heard him be so cruel, you'd never even argued with him before this.

'I wasn't dying,' you mumbled.

He scoffed. 'You had an infected wound in your leg that you didn't tell anyone about. An ash arrow was imbedded in your back. Imbedded! You didn't see anyone about it and then- you run into battle and get yourself stabbed.'

'I didn't get myself stabbed!' you argued, your temper rising above all other judgment. 'I didn't rush out in there, wanting to die!'

'I held you as you bled out!' he yelled, standing up from his seat. You were swinging your legs over the bed, ignoring every twinge in your body. 'Do you have any idea what that's like? Not even to hold you as you die in my arms the first time but the second. And to know this time, I was holding my mate?'

You bit down on your lip. He had to use the word with such care and love even when angry. You could feel it. For once, guessing his emotions wasn't needed as you felt it all. The taunt anger in him, the pull of anxiety and above all else, the weight of his love.

Azriel walked around you. 'Please, you have to tell me. Why didn't you say something to me? Why wouldn't you tell me you're my mate? Am I that repulsive to you?'

'What?'

He gulped.

You shook your head as he knelt in front of you, shadows pooled around the two of you, as if they were trying to hold the two of you together. You took his hands, holding them and let something like love flow down the bond. 'You are the most beautiful thing in this world. Something better than me. I wouldn't burden you with that.'

He rose his gaze to you. 'Burden me?'

'Do you think i've enjoyed lying to you?' you ask, finally finding your words. 'Do you think I've liked being your mate and never being with you? That I left you for fifty years and thought of you every moment of every day, all day long. That when I come back I wonder if you or Mor had grown closer? Or if Elian would finally tell you how much she loves you? It's been eating me alive. But it's a small price to pay.'

Azriel grasped at his words, chocking on them. 'Elian is nothing to me, nothing.'

You pushed yourself up, using his shoulder to steady yourself before you move around him. 'Why? Have you only just decided that because I’m your mate? That’s not how it should go, Azriel.'

He was following you around your tent as you slipped on armour and leathers over your night dress. ‘I want you, only you.'

'Because of the bond?'

'Because I’ve always only wanted you!'

You laugh. 'No, you haven’t.'

'If we’d talked about this maybe fifty years ago you’d know that!'

You shook your head. Perhaps a part of you didn't want to believe him and all those wasted years at your fault, but you didn't want to believe his words either. Because what did that mean? That he loved you and wanted you. But that seemed just as impossible to you. How could he want someone so wrecked who'd done nothing but run away from her feelings and does nothing to make anyone happy?

'I don't want you to feel like that,' said Azriel, approaching her. She thought she'd spoken aloud before she realised he could feel everything that was hers. She'd only ever had to shield her thoughts from her brother- and he rarely sort her thoughts. 'Please, please-' he took your shoulders, turning you around and gently resting his head on yours.

You could feel his warm breath over your lips. You almost lost all resolve, with him that close. You'd never been so close to him, close enough to touch. To kiss. To know finally what it mean to have that deep connection that everyone was meant for.

One person in the whole world to belong to.

And he was stuck with her.

'Azriel-'

'Whatever you're thinking about yourself, i've thought about me a thousand times. And ever since we were kids you've always stopped me from thinking that. You've always told me what I was worth,' he whispered. His hands were wondering down your arms, sending shivers down you. He could've been doing it on purpose, distracting you. 'Why won't you accept it for yourself?'

You gulped down every uneasy thought. 'Because you're good, Az and i'm-'

'You're everything.'

'I'm not,' you look up at him, his own face blurry from your tears unwilling to fall. 'I'm not a fighter, i'm afraid of pain. And I could never be a leader, because i'm scared of losing people. I'm terrified about it half the time. Why do you think I followed Rhys down to that stupid party that I knew I wouldn't come back from? Because he'd do the same for me? We both know he wouldn't. But what would losing him mean for you? or Cass, or Mor? I was a coward and I wanted to hide from all the pain his leaving would have caused.'

Azriel shook his head, words sinking in. You were comparing yourself, to warriors like him and Cass, to the high lord- your own brother. 'It was unbearable without you. Maybe if it was just Rhysand i'd have still been able to be spymaster, because that's what he needed. But when I realised you'd gone to, it ruined me,' he admitted. 'I didn't care what you would've wanted, because you weren't here to tell me.'

You rub at your forehead, the tension creating a pain in your already aching body.

'And to anyone who made you feel inferior or worthless, i'll kill them,' he said. It was a shine of the real Azriel. The one who made a promise and never broke it.

You smirk. 'Can't kill the high lord.'

'No,' huffed Azriel, like it was a mild inconvenience. 'But I sure can punch him in the face.'

You laughed at that and Azriel smiled. He'd cracked you.

But your amusement dropped quickly, he felt it like a penny dropping. He let go of you as you turned away, wiping at your eyes. He didn't want to see you cry, didn't want to be the one to make you upset. He only wanted to make you feel loved.

'This isn't how I wanted this to go.'

Azriel suddenly felt conscious of himself. Maybe this wasn't so much about what you felt, maybe it was more about what you felt toward him. 'You really hate the mating bond that much?'

You look over to him. 'Being your mate is my greatest honour. But I don't want you to love me just because you have to.'

'It's not that-'

'And I know you're gonna keep saying that.'

'Until you believe me,' he assured her. 'Even if I have to tell you every day until I die.'

'I can't ask you to do that.'

He smiled at you, a heart-breaking smile of love. 'You haven't.'

You open your mouth to say something, but you're interrupted by Cassain poking his head through the tent flaps. The rest of his whole body was hidden, only showing his bronze face and hair framing him. There was a sheepish smile on his lips.

Azriel huffed. 'Cassian.'

'What? It didn't sound like much love making going on.'

'Mother above,' you sighed.

'What?' whined Cassian. 'I'm just saying, didn't sound like I was interrupting anything.'

'Personally I didn't know he was capable of saying that many words,' said another voice, familiar and dull. Nesta.

You frown. 'I'm sorry, is the whole camp out there.' You storm out, without Azriel to stop you.

He let you get away, again, and now there was no way he'd get you to accept the bond until the battle was done.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

The next time you and Azriel spoke, the war was over.

Elian had stabbed Hybern, Nesta had delivered the killing blow, to the head. And your brother had died.

For those few minutes of his death you wanted Feyre weep for him as you stood paralyzed, unable to move. This was the brother you worshiped, the one you’d follow to the end of the world. Did he know that when he went where you could not follow?

Feyre had done everything she could, she begged for his life back. And when her wish was granted, you were collapsing on his other side. Tears of joy in your eyes that Rhys wiped away.

Your family, safe.

Everyone seemed happy to return to Velaris. Home. Scars were left over everyone, fears and pains. Some wore them better than others.

You'd thrown yourself into life. And avoiding Azriel. Suddenly there were many friends you'd neglected that you needed to take dinner with, or so many spontaneous Rita nights with Nesta.

And none of it escaped his notice. The steady thump of the bond still thrived inside of you, his shadows followed everywhere you went, even loitering in your room.

If he was doing it in an attempt to annoy you, then you weren't gonna break first.

After a particularly harrowing Rita's night, the only thing you wanted to do was sleep in for the rest of the day, hide away from everyone and everything. Call it your coping mechanism.

Alas, there was no peace as your curtains were thrown open, light spilling in and burning through your eyelids.

'Knock it off!' the shadows had never bothered with waking you up before- it seemed they'd picked the worst time to start.

'We need to talk,' said a voice that certainly wasn't a shadow.

Rhysand.

You groan, rolling over. 'Can't you talk to me when i'm not hungover.'

'And when would that be, sister? you're getting as bad as Nesta.'

You throw your pillow off and at him, but he dodged it easily and with a smug smile. 'I hate it when you call me that.'

'What? When I compare you to Nesta? Clean up your act then.' He stood over your bed, his arms folded over his chest.

You glare at him. 'I meant sister.' You shuffled up, brushing your hair back.

Rhysand frowned and perched himself on the edge of your bed. There was something he wasn't saying, and you watched it weight heavy on his shoulders. 'You know the last time I was in your room you were throwing glasses at me and yelling at me to get out.'

'Well, don't give me ideas.'

His lips curled into a smile of amusement before he turned solemn again. 'Do you love me, y/n?'

You hadn't expected that. Your hangover could only get worse, your head swimming with possibilities as to why he was asking. And nervous, you were nervous. Maybe you'd never said you loved him out loud but surely your actions were enough of a tell. 'You're my high lord and my brother, of course.' you shrug it off, as if it was nothing.

The shadows trailed up the bed, as if sensing your anxiety.

Rhysand glanced over at you. 'Do you think I don't love you?'

You hesitate, chewing at the skin of your gum.

'Because I do. I do love you. You're my little sister, how can I not?' he muttered. 'And I didn't know you felt like that.'

'It was just sort of... obvious,' you said. 'I was never your sister, not really. I always knew that. You'd never see me like that so, I gave up thinking you would. But you're the only family I have.'

'No, I'm not,' he denied. 'Y/n, everyone in this house loves you. They're your family. And i'm sorry- i'm so sorry if my actions have ever made you think different.'

'Why now?' you ask, eyes screwed up looking at him. 'Why are you saying all this now, what's changed?'

He shook his head, strands of his hair- the same as yours- falling over his eyes. 'You almost died, died on that battlefield and I-I wasn't the first one there. Granted, it was your mate that reached you first but I, I wasn't there quick enough.'

You meet his gaze, his purple eyes sad in a way you'd only ever seen under the mountain. 'You died.'

'And as I was dying one of my deepest regrets was not calling you sister enough,' he shifted closer, taking your head in his hands as if you were a little kid. 'You are my sister. Full flesh and blood. Full love of mine. You are my family. After everything you've done for me. You were right, I needed you under there, when there was nothing good to keep me grounded, but you. My little sister.'

You were sure you were tearing up in front of him.

'You'll always be my sister.'

You laugh. 'Maybe I should get stabbed more often.'

'No,' he said seriously. 'I don't think Azriel would like that very much.'

The mention of him changed the tone in conversation, changed the very beating of your heart.

'What's going on with you two?'

'Oh, I see,' you tease, 'talk to me above sister and brotherly relations just to get in my love life. Not a good look on you high lord.'

He laughed. 'No, it's not that. I just care about the two of you, a lot. And you both deserve to be happy. And I think you'd be happiest with each other.'

You look down, twirling the rings on your fingers.

'Would it be so bad to try to love him?'

You shake your head, smiling as a tear rolls down your cheek. 'I don't even have to try. Feels like i've loved him forever.' his shadows climbed up your arm, leaving Rhysand to smile at the affection.

'You'll work it out,' said Rhys, leaning over and kissing the crown of your head.

Your door was thrown open, startling the two of you.

Azriel stood there. For his entrance, he didn't at all seem that confident when he stood in front of the two of you. His hands didn't know how to hold themselves in front of him.

Your brows rose. 'Were you listening at the door?'

'Azriel,' scolded Rhysand with a stupid grin.

'Get dressed,' he said simply to you. 'There's something you need to see.'

Without much room for argument, you kicked them both out and dressed.

You'd grudgingly let Azriel hold your hand as he led you through the woods. You'd winnowed in at an illyrian camp before he took you through it and into the woods close by.

It was the same camp you'd first met Azriel in. The oldest where you'd all become friends. You'd asked what you were doing there, but he was quiet as he led you through, helping you over roots or breaking twigs from the trees so they didn't hit you.

'Azriel, to any other girl, you leading her silently through a woods without saying anything would be a bit suspicious,' you tell him. His shadows trailed behind the two of you and his hand was secure in yours. You knew not to be scared, but you were still cautious.

'I wouldn't show any girl this,' he said.

After another half hour of walking, the two of you stumbled across a small hut. It was a tiny thing really, made out of twigs and sticks, hay and mud. It looked like something a child was capable of making.

Azriel paused in front of it. He let go of you hand and reached for the door. He was as tall as it and his wings had to tuck in tightly behind him.

Hesitantly, you followed in.

It was just as small as it looked and dirty, like it hadn't been touched in years. Cobwebs hung low (his shadows quickly tried to bat them all away for you) there was dirt and hay all over the floor. Glasses were dust filled and left around with a hundred other things. Some looked new, others old.

And yet, strangely familiar.

'I made this place,' said Azriel.

You looked back at him. He was hunched over a large box that was overflowing with things. 'You?'

'The first time my brothers picked on me, I came to these woods, working on this for days. Every time things got too much back then, i'd come here. I've been coming back for years.' he glanced at you, a sheepish look on his face. 'I've never showed anyone this before.'

You look around the place in new perspectives. The shadows settled around the place. You pictured a little Az, running here and hiding from his brothers. Did he feel alone? Did he feel un-loved? You were so enamoured by it you didn't realise he'd settled on the ground, pulling out things from his box.

'This is your glove, the one's you were wearing when we first met. You took them off to beat up some kid who was being mean to me. You didn't go back for them, you didn't even care.'

He said, pulling out a pair of red wool gloves. In spite of the hut, they were in perfect condition. Pristine. You remembered first meeting him, remembered the little soldier who'd been horrible. Those gloves wouldn't go anywhere near your hand now.

Azriel went in again. 'This is the empty glass jar of the cream you used to help my burns. Here's a book you read to me when I couldn't flip the pages myself. The notes you'd leave when you had to go back to camp. The flowers you picked for me and gave me for my birthday. Dried and stamped from every time you gave them to me.'

You stood, in shock as he kept taking things out.

'A terrible drawing I did of you when I was young. A locket of yours that broke and you never wore again. Stamps from our first theatre trip. Empty bottles from our first night together in Rita's- and Cassian's too. A letter you wrote to me when I was on a mission. A black ribbon from your hair, you used to always wear it with these things. Honestly, the amount I have in here,' and he pulled out several, of varying shades. Black, white, grey, red, dark green. All yours.

Azriel wasn't done. 'A page of annotations you did in one of Rhysand's books. A copy of your favourite poems. A coaster from the first time just you and I went to dinner. Here's some stones from when I first taught you to skim them. A quill that I used to use to write you letters. An old ring of yours is here too. Here's the first dagger you got me. It's too precious to me to be used to kill.'

Tears were falling down your cheeks as you watched him pull them all out and explain them in depth. There was more but the sight of it all was becoming blurred through your tears. The bond felt heavy and beautiful in you.

Azriel finally put the box down and fell to his knees in front of you. His hands came around the back of your thighs, holding you there as his eyes looked up into yours. 'Don't you ever think I don't love you, when I have loved you since we were eleven years old.'

You stutter on you breath. 'H-how?'

He rests his head on your stomach, looking utterly at your will and completely in love. 'How could I not?'

Slowly, as you could not move too fast, you settled down on your knees across from him. His hands moved up to your arms as yours went to his cheeks, brushing back his hair.

'It was always going to be you, wasn't it?' you mumbled. 'How could it be anyone else?'

Azriel kissed you then, finally. His lips were as soft as they'd looked, as you'd always imagined. His hands drifted to your waist, finger tips digging into to hold you close. His hands were strong, but his lips were gentle. He pulled away, only to groan in need before reaching for your lips again, harder, desperate.

His teeth bit down on your bottom lip, tongue sliding in to feel every corner of your mouth as his hands wondered around you, trying to grip onto any bit of you he could. Your arms wrapped around his neck, bringing him closer. Close enough to consume, to breath in.

You pulled back enough to catch your breath, arms still around his shoulders. 'Mother above, am I gonna make you the best meal of your life.'

But that could wait. For now, you'd settle for a dusty floor in the little house in the woods.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Taglist: @tothestarsandwhateverend @darlingbravebelle @lil-lupa @haileycannotcometothephantom @fairywriter-oracle @isa1b2h3 @tele86 @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @unleashthelion @naturakaashi @aurora1115 @sirens-and-moonflowers @azriels-shadowsinger @willowpains @crazylokonugget @abysshaven @anuttellaa @wishfulwithwine @one-big-fangirl @harrystylesfan2686 @charlotteintumbleland @mellowarcadefun @starseedsamurai

[alastors-wife]

god i hate when people come over unannounced

[factual-fantasy]

*Pulles out the Welcome Home Wiki and clears throat*

So, to start with, are there any elements of the Welcome home crew being a tv show? Any "neighbor" that Wally talks too?

Who would be the most likely to figure out Wally's house is alive? Can Home speak or are they limited to onomatopoeias?

Canonically, Wally can only do the Mash Potato, is your version of him a better or worse dancer? Is anyone particularly skilled at something you wouldn't think they'd be? (eg: Frank having mad crochet skills)

Who feels the most comfortable around Wally? Are any of the neighbors unerved by his sleep depreived behaviors at times?

If Poppy found Sally as a youngin, how did that happen on a scale of Thumbalina to Stitch?

How much of a jokster is Barnaby, has he ever gone too far with his jokes? What's his go to for lifting the spirits of his neighbors?

Does Julie love games just as much here? If so, how strict is she with the rules of them? Especially safety rules. Does she create new games often or stick with the same couple and occasionally introduce new ones as the current ones become less fun?

How much of a bug lover is Frank? Does it ever bother him that all his friends names end with -ly/ie and his last name does that instead of his first?

What is your current idea for Sally? More gremlin or fancy? Maybe a bit of both, reserving all her self-control for the stage?

Is Howdy's bugdega his most prized possession, or no more then it would be for a normal person? How receptive is he to jokes?

Would the town of Welcome Home still use Jokes are currency, or would you switch it to a more standard kind of money?

Hope that's enough for ya XD

XD I couldn't help myself, I interpreted that question about Franks name as a funny drawing prompt! XDD Now onto your other questions..

1: Are there any elements of the Welcome home crew being a tv show? Any "neighbor" that Wally talks too?

Nahh, there aren't any elements of their world being a show or a Y/N and/or neighbor that Wally talks too. Its just the neighbors and their world is very real to them! :0

2: Who would be the most likely to figure out Wally's house is alive? Can Home speak or are they limited to onomatopoeias?

I don't have any plans for anyone to find out Home is alive.. but if anyone ever did, Wally, Eddie and Barnaby would be good candidates. Wally because he lives there and is pretty sensitive to Home's energy. Eddie because he is very sensitive to homes energy.. and Barnaby, because he's really close to Wally and is looking in on this situation with a clear and level head. Perhaps he would notice things that Eddie and Wally are too scatterbrained to notice..

Also yes! :0 Home cannot speak and is limited to onomatopoeias!

3: Canonically, Wally can only do the Mash Potato, is your version of him a better or worse dancer?

I'd like to think my Wally is capable of learning new dances, but he's just not particularly interested.. <XD so yeah! Only the mashed potato for my Wally too XDD

4: Is anyone particularly skilled at something you wouldn't think they'd be?

I have a few in mind for surprising skills! My Barnaby is surprisingly good at sewing! He learned it from his mama 🥺💞💞 Julie is- well, to the surprise of the neighbors at least- really good at making campfires from scratch and other outdoorsy things! :0 And lastly, Eddie is known for being clumsy and forgetful.. but surprisingly he has fantastic handwriting. Beautiful cursive, perfectly spaced out, perfect punctuation, never smudges, all the "I"s are dotted and every "T" is crossed. He never has to erase and never spells anything wrong! Eddie doesn't know how he got so good at it.. Its just always been like that he says. hmm..

Technically Barnaby would feel the most comfortable around Wally, since they're best friends an all.. :0 But no one is uncomfortable around Wally due to his sleepy behaviors! The neighbors mostly feel pity for the poor guy.. it cant be fun to never get a good nights sleep..

5: Who feels the most comfortable around Wally? Are any of the neighbors unnerved by his sleep deprived behaviors at times?

6: If Poppy found Sally as a youngin, how did that happen on a scale of Thumbalina to Stitch?

I cant really remember the stories of Stitch and Thumbalina that well... but I'd say it might be more like Stitch..? <XD Sally was super excited to explore everything and go everywhere. So she was quite the handful! Like I think Stitch was..?

7: How much of a jokester is Barnaby, has he ever gone too far with his jokes? What's his go to for lifting the spirits of his neighbors?

Barnaby is a Sans level jokester XDD Fitting puns and jokes into almost every other sentence! But thankfully he's rather observant and doesn't ever go too far. He knows what jokes are and are not appropriate to say around certain neighbors. He also can tell if its a good or bad time to crack a joke.. when it comes to lifting the spirits of his neighbors.. his go-to will depend on the neighbor. For Howdy, Julie or Eddie, he just needs a few good jokes with maybe a sprinkle of life advice in there to get them smiling again.

For Poppy or Wally, his go-to is usually to talk to them rather seriously and figure out what's wrong..

If Poppy is upset, it usually because she's anxious about something. So Barnaby will try to figure out what's wrong so he can help her fix the problem or maybe comfort her if its worry over nothing..

If Wally is visibly upset, usually that means something is really wrong.. Barnaby probably wont let up in until he figures out what happened and is able to help his poor buddy..

8: Does Julie love games just as much here? If so, how strict is she with the rules of them? Especially safety rules. Does she create new games often or stick with the same couple and occasionally introduce new ones as the current ones become less fun?

I'd like to think that my Julie loves games too! :)) She is lenient on any and all rules if all the other players agree to it. In a way changing the rules creates a whole new game! But safety rules are no breakers! Gotta keep her friends safe after all! And I think Julie only switches it up and tries new games once her neighbors are bored with the current selection :00

9: How much of a bug lover is Frank?

Well considering my Frank moved to this neighborhood specifically so he could study and live alongside all the creepy crawlies there.. I'd says he loves them with all his heart! XDDD (Also never call them creepy crawlies around Frank, he hates that!)

10: What is your current idea for Sally? More gremlin or fancy? Maybe a bit of both, reserving all her self-control for the stage?

Right now I'm resisting the urge to make her a 100% chaotic gremlin <XDD Since I don't know if that fits her canon character very well.. I'm leaning more towards a passionate and sassy theater kid atm 🤣🤣🤣

11: Is Howdy's bugdega his most prized possession, or no more then it would be for a normal person? How receptive is he to jokes?

(AOIJASJFF I JUST GOT IT-- BUGDEGA XDD) Its his most prized possession! He treats it better than he does himself to be honest! <XDD And he has a great passion for the quality of the products he sells too!

As for jokes, my Howdy loves a good joke. There's a rumor if you make him laugh, he'll give you a discount! 👀👀

12: Would the town of Welcome Home still use Jokes are currency, or would you switch it to a more standard kind of money?

The canon uses jokes as currency?? :0 Huh.. I didn't know that, I intended to make my neighbors all have jobs. But I guess that begs the question, what jobs do they have.. I guess that's still a work in progress <XD

Anyways- thank you for all the questions! :DD These were a blast to answer, and I hope you had fun reading them! XDD