#big bad softie

[utterlyazriel]

an eternity, my love

eep! this is a bit longer than the last at just over 6k forgive me... but thank so much for all love on the first piece 🥹 and thank u for all your lovely ideas! i hope this does sum justice to the nonnie who asked for further miscommuncation... <3 part one here but u don’t need to read it to read this :)

How does one even begin to decide what to wear to dinner with a person, the person, who matched your soul perfectly?

When your friend had hunted her way through clothing stores of Velaris and stashed away a custom dress — far fancier than anything you owned — for the first date with her mate, you had laughed at her.

Now, staring at your closet in only your undergarments, you were beginning to envy her preparation.

Seriously, how are you supposed to choose?

You pick up your latest addition to your closet, a glossy dress the colour of red wine that reveals the length of your legs and planes of your collarbones— perfect for a night out dancing.

With a grimace, you place it back on the hanger. It was far more scandalous than you would want to be on a first date, even though — well, you’re sure that, being mates, Azriel would like anything you wore.

You heave a sigh. An uneasy prickle beneath your skin has you crossing your arms; it was almost alarming how badly you wanted to impress him. But… mating bonds were rare and powerful.

Almost as if you had summoned it — in fact, maybe you had — there’s a soft shimmer in your chest. Your beautiful glow, the bridge between you and Azriel humming to life. In a way you can’t explain, it’s as though you can feel him soothe across your mind, his soft touch full of assurances.

He’s comforting you. All your emotions must be shooting down the bond without your permission. Gods, that would take some getting used to. You wonder if he can feel your resounding pang of embarrassment as well.

You do your best to push back something less nervous, more of your excitement for the night to come — and you know, without even seeing him, he’s smiling.

After another moment of fussing, you decide on something simpler than your glossy night dress.

Comfortable black slacks with plenty of flow to them and a shirt you thought was one of your nicer ones. With the slightest touch ups to your makeup, you rush yourself out the door before you convince yourself to change all over again.

The Sidra keeps you company, a rush of water beside you as you wind through the streets of Velaris, eyes flicking up to take in the darkening sky. The sun was sinking below the mountain tops, rays tickling across the ridges.

And while you could admit that Velaris was very beautiful in the daytime, you were a true Night court citizen— and believed its true beauty came out at night.

Somehow, despite the lack of concrete plans made as you had ushered the male out of your office, you knew resolutely that you would be able to find him. You weren’t even worried about the timing of it all. It was… what was the word? Absurd. Insane. Utterly, breathtakingly incredible.

Sure enough, as you exit the alley and round the corner, your eyes falling on the sage green building you reside in for work, there he is; waiting for you.

You inhale a sharp breath. A thousand cells in your body fizz, hum, and glow, at the mere sight of him.

It's easy to understand just how he had garnered his dark reputation, the image of him every bit of the Spymaster of the Night Court — a title like Shadowsinger has never been so fitting for him.

He’s blurred at the edges, a thousand tiny wisps that blend him into the shadows of the nighttime. His wings stretch up behind, towering over his already tall frame, black as ink, and beneath his darkened attire, you can spot his tan skin. Your eyes drag up his neck, tracing his adam's apple, along the scruff of his sharp jaw until you reach his hazel eyes.

Your heart burns.

In the depth of it, you know, if he doesn't love you, he will undo you completely.

It's wholly terrifying to come face to face with — the intensity of the mating bond scorching through your mind like a fierce wind, burning embers left in its wake.

It's enough to make you pause, the definitive thought that doing this, offering him your heart and trusting him, could very well lead to your ruin.

Your chest squeezes tightly. You let your eyes drink in the Illyrian, the Male who waited so patiently for all those years and was prepared to wait years more, if you had asked.

Focusing, you pluck up that golden thread in your chest and hold it tightly. It heats and melts, hotter and hotter, and you know that any fear you have, you can conquer to be with him.

Ruination be damned.

—

Azriel notices you the moment your frame exits the alley, notices the moment you pause — has been able to feel you drawing nearer to him this whole time. Your every emotion is transparent to him through the bond between you, whether you’re aware of it or not.

You must not have the tightened mental shields he had come to be so familiar with over all his years. It makes sense; you are no warrior. Mental walls over your mind are not something you have ever had to concern yourself with.

Azriel vows it to be one of the things he teaches you. You deserved the privacy of your emotions, at the very least.

But... for now, Azriel can feel them all. It's why, as you round the corner, Azriel can feel your eyes on him and then, then he feels it.

The wash of fear that spills over your bond like icy water.

An old enemy rises within him. He grits his teeth, even as he feels the fear from you slide away and he tries to ignore the sting from an unhealed wound. But self-deprecation never seems to drown, no matter how much he tries to suffocate it within him.

He shifts his hands, relieved suddenly to have them covered up beneath gloves. His wings tuck in tighter, if possible, and he wills his shadows sternly to contain themselves. Something in the slightest baring of his teeth has them obeying. They shoot to his sides and make themselves scarce.

All this in time to greet you pleasantly as you bounce into view, sidling up before him with a shy grin. It's only been a few hours since he got his proper look at you and yet, you're every bit as breathtaking as you were earlier. More so, in fact.

It feels as though Azriel has never seen the sky before and you before him, are the first sunset of his life. You look so pretty that Azriel could probably gaze at you all evening if you so allowed him to.

And then, he remembers the pang of fear.

He doesn't waste time mulling over which detail of him had made you afraid — only that he would dim or change or hide any part of himself to stop it from happening again.

"Hello, again," You say, your lips pressed together to contain your smile. You have to tilt your head back to look up at his handsome face. His shadows swirl around him and despite his strict instructions, one still slips away to touch you.

You don't notice it circling your ankle, tentative and shy.

"Hello, again." Azriel echoes your words, unable to help his own glimmer of joy.

He wants to offer you his arm, his hand. Can feel it within him, down to the very marrow of his bones, the craving to be closer to you, to touch you, however he can.

Azriel swallows heavily and does what he has done over decades, over centuries; he takes the wanting and pushes it down, down, down.

The two of you begin to walk, side by side, with no destination in mind. Aimless and content at the same time.

Azriel doesn't need the bond to see the flittering of nerves hidden in your expression. The shadow still circulating around your ankle climbs higher, like it wants to comfort you too.

Azriel wills it to still, desperate to not scare you again. He drops his shoulders from his usual warrior posture in hopes of making himself a little smaller.

“You don’t need to be nervous.” He says reassuringly.

You steal a glimpse at him, your smile breaking into a grin. Your nerves are still potent but less so.

“Who says I’m nervous?”

Azriel smiles gently, his eyes dancing across your face as he reads your lie easily. “I do."

There's a scrunch between your eyebrows then, like he had seen during his time in your office earlier. Azriel places a hand on his chest, over the place where the glowing tug is strongest.

"I can feel it.”

Your eyes widen slightly as you stare at his gloved hand, the cogs in your brain spinning and turning at a rapid rate. Still strolling, your hand rises slowly and touches to the same spot on your own chest. Azriel can feel his heart stutter at the sight, you holding the spot that connected you to him undeniably.

"You can?" Your gaze lifts to his face, puzzlement adorning your features. You frown and focus for a moment, staring hard into the distance — and Azriel feels a sudden twinge of disgust through the thread.

"Did you feel that?" You ask, eyes wide and curious.

Azriel nods wordlessly and he can't help but ask. "What is it you were thinking of?"

You look embarrassed for a moment, eyes averting to the ground. You chuckle awkwardly and tuck your hair behind your ears, glancing back up at the Male with a sheepish smile.

"Brussels sprouts."

Azriel blinks once, twice, and then has to turn to hide his smile. He tries to cover his laugh with a cough. It doesn't work, given how you make a small noise of indignation. He turns back, his politest expression on.

"Don't laugh at me!" You whine, reaching out to poke him in the shoulder. Your touch radiates through his body like a drop of golden sun, blazing warm.

"You're right," Azriel hums, his lips twitching as he presses back his smile. "My apologies, my lady. This is important knowledge I should be filing away. I swear on my life I will feed you no brussels sprouts this evening, or any in the future."

He wants to nudge your shoulder with his own, just to touch you, wants to reach out as easily as you had. But his shadows slip before his self-control does, skittering out along onto your shoulder and giving you a small shock and Azriel remembers himself. His fists clench tightly at his sides.

You walk side by side all evening, like two planets in orbit — close, oh so close, but never quite touching.

—

The first date you share is nothing short of… wonderful.

Resolutely and overwhelming good, the entire date you can't help but feel as though your very soul is singing, a thousand particles blithesome at the nearness you get to share with Azriel. He's surprising in a manner of ways.

Firstly, he's terribly quiet.

Next to him, you look quite the blabber-mouth, no matter how much he insists he enjoys it. His dark eyes are intense as they watch you closely, soaking in every word that passes your lips, and yet, beneath it, his dry sense of humour comes out to play. There's the occasional tease, almost as if just to see if he could make you flustered. (He could, easily).

With a Male as beautiful as him, suited to your very being in every way, it's nearly unbearable how much you ache for him. How much his very attention creeps down your neck and makes every nerve along your spine tingle.

You know it will take some time to get used to his unwavering and devoted attention.

There’s… just one small, itty-bitty, tiny problem.

He doesn’t touch you.

Throughout that whole first evening, you had noticed it somewhat— a flex in his gloved hands, a moment where his wing strayed too close only to be pulled back in a flash, even his shadows, darting out to be near you but never quite touching you as they had on that first meeting.

His hands reach out but they do not find you.

At first, you believed it was a first date thing. Azriel was, first and foremost, a gentleman, and you thought perhaps, his skirting touch, like his hand lingering over the small of your back but not touching it, was to be polite. Courteous and gracious.

Then, you had seen him just two days after that date, all bundled up in your giddiness that it had managed to slip your mind.

The two of you had spent the day together, traversing through the market — before you quickly found a quieter space for your mate as it became clear that large bustling areas, such as the Palace of Threads and Jewels, were not so suited to his tastes.

As you had tugged him out of the crowd, laughing over your shoulder at how he fought to keep his broad wings from knocking into anyone else, the thought suddenly snapped back into you.

Though you yearned to link his arm with your own, to interlace your fingers with his, you remembered his hesitance. Remembered the hover of his gloved hand.

And so, you dropped his arm the moment you cleared the crowd.

A hurt warbled deep within you to so do and knowing you were not the deftest at schooling your expressions, you hid your face so you could contain your childish reactions. You huffed at your own upset. What matter is it if your mate has no affinity to touch?

Truly, it was a miracle to have found a mate at all, you tried to scold yourself. You would not take him for granted for a moment, not even if it was not quite the picture of perfection you had envisioned.

Rooted deep in you was a truth; you could abide by this, abstain to his level of comfort for years, for millennia, if it made him happier.

The fabric of the mating bond, connecting the two of you intrinsically, made it so you would not want it any other way.

It's a decidedly Azriel thing.

He always wears the gloves, he never touches you more than he has to, and he's got... this really specific look when you're doing a terrible job of hiding your emotions.

As he had vowed, Azriel had set about teaching you how to build the mental walls up within your mind, brick by brick by brick. While it would help you hold against daemati if that loathsome situation should ever arise, it would also shield you from your mate.

It would protect you from having your emotions ripped out for him to see, no matter how much you held back — if it was in your mind, it would travel down the bond.

So, the wall had to be built. It had been tedious, tricky, and tiring work. Yet every time you would feel yourself ready to throw in the towel, Azriel would lean in closer, his hazel eyes softened, and his hand resting upon your arm, thumb swatching up and down, to encourage you.

"I know it is tiresome," He had mused, that faint smile twitching at his lips as you scowled at the ground. His thumb was still moving, still drawing light circles on your bicep. The skin beneath it blazed with warmth. "But it is worth it, that I can promise. You deserve this privacy, my dear. I would never wish to take it from you."

My dear, my dear, my dear— the words had sunk into your sternum and bloomed, bright and golden.

It's enough to hold onto, his kind affections. The sweet shape of his mouth when it says your name. The way his lashes kiss in the corner when he can't hold back his smile.

It's enough to soothe yourself over. To take the lack of touch on the chin and swallow down your desire for more.

It's why— why you can't help yourself— why you couldn't tear your eyes away from Azriel's hand where it touches Cassian's arm.

You're meeting his family today, which you've quickly realised doesn't mean his mother or father but instead means... the literal Highlord of the Night Court.

There are several warriors crowded around the cramped entrance room to the River House. Each of them is taller than you, and two of them with the very same huge wingspans that you've come to revere on your own mate.

Your usual talkativeness has been dimmed in your shock, though, really, it shouldn't be such a surprise. Azriel is a force to be reckoned with, honed over decades, and the Spymaster of the Night Court. You know these things. The company he keeps makes sense.

Somehow... still, seeing them all together leaves you strikingly speechless. The legion that protects your home — a family.

Rhysand greets you first, dapper in his dark attire, his violet eyes equal parts calculating and welcoming as he steps forward and offers his hand.

Despite the fact you have never bowed to him before, you still have to repress the urge. His power is overwhelming, the very night lapping at his edges and you're suddenly very grateful to be meeting him as a friend and not as a foe.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," Rhysand's voice purrs out, soft as silk. When you place your hand in his, he brings it to his lips and presses a polite kiss to the back of your hand.

"Any friend of Azriel's is a friend of mine."

You can feel your own heart thundering in your chest. Azriel hovers behind you, his presence soothing in itself. You can't see it but his wings are outstretched towards you, cocooning around you ever so slightly. A shadow hovers behind your shoulder, just out of sight.

"I— the pleasure is mine, my Highlord." You manage to make yourself speak.

You almost wish you hadn't when your words inspire a burst of laughter from one of the others behind Rhysand, the other Illyrian. He's tall, his hair dark but longer than your mate's own.

As your hand is dropped, Rhysand turns to scowl at the Male laughing, and you only grow further perplexed when he gives a whack against the other's shoulder. They begin to squabble for a moment — and you don't even hear Azriel move until he's speaking, his lips right by your ear.

"You'll have to forgive Cassian." His voice is low, raspy in a way that sends a zing down your spine. You shiver lightly. "He can be well-mannered at the best of times. But I promise he isn't laughing at you."

The two Males seem to tune back into Azriel's words, even though they had been whispered for you specifically.

"It's true!" The Illyrian, Cassian you now know, pipes up. He brandishes a devilishly handsome grin at you, with his hands held up in defense. "I apologise. It just still makes me laugh to see someone address this one so formally."

You blink. "But... he is the Highlord."

Azriel speaks again, bent over still to talk in your ear, but much less of a whisper this time. "Rhys is our Highlord but he does not bother with such formalities."

"And," Cassian interjects, lugging a punch into Rhy's shoulder, much like the other had done to him not a moment before. "Before he was the o'mighty Highlord, he was our friend."

Cassian says the word o'mighty with such an air of sarcasm that you can't help but glance at Rhys, sure he wouldn't take such disrespect. But around you, there are only easy grins.

"Might we move to somewhere more comfortable than the doorway," Azriel speaks up from behind you, his voice dry. "Unless that is, you're all hoping to do one-on-one greetings with her?"

There it is, the dry sense of humour you've come to adore. The group before you seems to grumble, as if they were quite keen on the one-on-one meetings but begin to move through the house.

One of the group dips back to walk beside you and you do your best not to repeat your past mistakes, even as your eyes widen almost comically. Azriel chuckles silently to himself, feeling your polite astonishment down the bond.

"It's so great to finally meet you.” Feyre, your Highlady greets you, her pretty face rife with glee. She seems genuinely very happy to make your acquaintance. "Azriel has told me all about you."

You stumble in surprise, your eyes casting back to Azriel behind the pair of you. His eyes are fixed on Feyre, narrowed at her blatant betrayal, his shadows swirling around him. She sticks her tongue out at him playfully and you smother a laugh.

When his eyes shift over to you, you're positively delighted at how his cheeks have turned the lightest shade of ruby.

"Feyre is very persuasive when she wants to be." He murmurs, almost grumbling. You turn back to the Highlady and she grins at you, devious and captivating all at once.

It’s a whirlwind once you reach one of the many living rooms, each member of Azriel’s family all very eager to shake your hand.

Cassian grips it firm, his grin still on the side of wicked as he tells you he’s been waiting years to find the woman who could contain Azriel. Nesta, his mate as you find out, is a fierce kind of pretty with a grip as strong as Cassian’s. She tells you welcome to the family with the smile of a shark.

Morrigon is next, breathtakingly gorgeous, and every bit as charismatic as Azriel had described. You don't catch the glimpse between Mor and Cassian, not the beat of relief they both feel at your arrival in their lives— in Azriel's life.

It's swallowed up in her words, going a mile a minute. She jumps about, like popcorn in a pan, overly keen to finally speak to the one whom the Mother deemed worthy of Azriel’s heart. Where are you from? What do you do? How did you meet?

“Mor,” Azriel warns, after her twelfth consecutive question about your life. He hasn’t moved from his protective position behind you, close enough you can feel the heat of his body. His wings had brushed your shoulder just once.

“Yeah, Mor,” Rhys jeers. He nudges his cousin in the side playfully and Cassian snickers behind the group. “Give the girl some time to breathe.”

Even with all of Azriel's masterclass on who you would be meeting, it's still terribly overwhelming just trying to keep track of them all. They're each such strong spirits, each with seemingly a thousand battles in their past and far more years with Azriel.

On top of this is the fact you met both your Highlord and Highlady so casually in one single afternoon. It's difficult to not be daunted by the group that is so clearly intertwined with each other on a deeper level altogether— bonded by devastation and choosing each other through love.

Try as you might, you can feel the seed of doubt, of insecurity, make a home between your ribs.

You clamp down the shields you've spent the last few weeks learning, building the wall up and holding it tight. It's silly to feel dismayed because these Fae, these friends, know your mate better than you do.

Azriel had told you he had been waiting for you for five hundred years. For the first time since you've met him, you wonder if he was ever disappointed.

And then— then, you see it.

Azriel's hand on Cassian's arm. Then the half embrace they share, a hand on each other's neck as Cassian grins, wild and fierce, and presses his forehead against Azriel's own; brothers, sharing a moment of euphoria at the other finding his long-deserved happiness.

You should be soaking in the smile Azriel hides from you too often, showing his teeth and crinkling his eyes. But instead, you can't see past it, can't stop the loop in your own mind as it prints a fact over and over and over.

It isn't an Azriel thing; it's a you thing.

He doesn't touch you.

The mental walls in your mind feel paper-thin as a fresh kind of agony ripples through your chest. The soft rejection of a mate stings, a papercut on your very heart. You can feel it warble through you and know, terribly, the exact moment that Azriel feels it too.

His head whips around, his dark shadows that surround him suddenly spinning and flitting faster than before— a couple dive across the room to you.

You stand up and the chair scrapes noisily beneath you.

"I—" You say before you realise you haven't planned an exit or an excuse in the slightest. Azriel's gaze burns into you. You turn to Feyre instead, who had been talking across from you when you rudely stood up.

"I'm so sorry, I just—" Some excuse, any excuse! "I think I— left the stove on."

It's a lie. A complete utter lie that fools no one in the room as you retreat from it hastily. None of them try to stop you though, which you're thankful for. Each of them watches, every expression slightly concerned as you hurry out of the room, your feet walking backward rapidly until you bump into the door frame.

You pass through it with your eyes on the floor, knowing that all of the eyes are on you. You know the ones you can feel searing into your soul are Azriel's.

You leave the River House. You walk along the Sidra, your steps hurried and your chin tucked low. It hurts. It hurts the feeling inside you. A tear streaks down your cheek, unbidden, and collects on your jaw. You wipe it away meanly.

The sight of your apartment door is an overwhelming comfort, one that has you sighing aloud as you rush up to it, your fingers already digging around in your pockets for your key.

And like always, you never hear him coming.

"What happened?" Azriel asks, his voice almost pained.

You give a little yelp of surprise and whip around, remembering half a second later that there's still evidence on your face of your tears. Azriel grows characteristically still, his hazel eyes fixed on yours as you sniffle for a moment, aggravation beginning to creep in.

He could feel everything from you and you got... what? Whatever he deemed fit to offer? How is that fair?

His usually wispy shadows are inkier than usual, almost tornado-ing around his shoulders. They keep leaping out towards you before being caught in an invisible net, a barrier between you and them.

Even as Azriel remains motionless, his eyes are the opposite—they jump around, searching, hunting, begging to find the cause of your pain. Had it been one of his friends?

"Please," He tries his words again.

His heart throbs painfully when you finally find your key and turn your back on him without a word, unlocking your door and pressing your way inside. He follows quickly, wings tucked in tight, unable to keep his shadows at his side this time. They whiz to you, circling your ankles protectively.

"Please," Azriel says, an anguished growl to his words. "What hurt you? I will— my friends, if they said something— if it was someone, I hunt them down and make it right for you."

You inhale sharply and when you speak, your tone is cold in a way you have never used before with Azriel. You say the words without thinking.

"It would be impossible to hunt yourself, Azriel."

Regret howls through you like a hurricane the moment you say the words. You don't mean to be mean, jealous, or whatever unseemly emotion you can't stop from sprouting in your chest, growing in size, tangling into your heartstrings like twisted gnarled vines. It hurts.

You turn back to him, mouth open. No words come out.

Hurt is slashed across his face, his eyebrows furrowed tightly, his shadows tucked in tight. It's as though he's blended into the very air, the wispy edge of him threatening to retreat into his own shadows.

All his emotions on display just for a moment, before they're schooled away. Tucked away, hidden, not for you to see.

Inside, your hurricane howls again, this time in pain.

You can tell he feels it, even as you mentally gather your bricks. It isn't fair. How can he have every bit of you and you get what he pleases to return?

You want to know him completely, want to see every part of his rugged, weathered soul, and love him anyway. It's an untold type of agony to have him deny you.

"My love," His feet finally move, his wings almost dragging on the floor as he steps forward, slowly, as though he was afraid he might spook you.

"Tell me how to fix this pain." He pleads. His gloved hands are held out, palms up and suddenly, he looks nothing like a warrior. Just a Male, afraid of losing what is most dear to him. You shake your head, like a child, and keep building your brick wall.

"Please don’t keep this from me," He takes another step forward, his shadows sent awry as they dart across to you. You can feel them on your calves, on your arms, feel the tiny kisses they leave. Azriel speaks again, voice low. "My love, I can feel your pain.”

You can't help how you screw your eyes closed, the ache in your chest unbearable— made worse when you know he can feel it too.

"That is my problem." You utter the words quietly, eyes still clenched shut, knowing he can hear you. He takes another step, close enough now that you can feel the heat of his enormous frame, his wings bracketing around you. "I cannot hide anything from you."

Azriel makes a noise, a punched-out wounded sound that reverberates down the bond.

"My love," He murmurs for the third time. Down the bond, you can feel his sweet love, his golden gentle feelings travelling along to assure you. "I would not wish for you to hide anything from me."

“But you hide everything from me." You whine, eyes finally crinkling open. Azriel stares down at you, his eyes softer than they've ever been. You can see the hurt swimming in them, the hurt you've caused. Still, you speak.

"You hide your emotions. You hide your touch, yet you give it willingly to your friends." You share each ugly thought with him, whispered as you gaze into his face to search for your answers.

Lifting your hands, you curl your fingers around his wrists tentatively. Azriel swallows heavily, his eyes dancing down to where you're touching him. You slide your hands forward, dragging the pads of your fingers over his pulse, along his palm, til your hands are holding his gloved ones.

"Is there some test I don't know about?" You ask, your focus on your intertwined hands. "Is there— do I have to earn this?"

"No," Azriel chokes out the word suddenly. You look up at him. He clears his throat and you feel his hands grip yours back, surer and stronger than you had. "No, I'm sorry. There is no test, nothing to prove you deserving of this. I just..."

His words trail off and you watch as he closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, as if gathering his courage. His hands slide from yours, pulled backward and you nearly feel the urge to cry once more— before you realise he's removing his gloves.

The skin of them is warped, you realise acutely with horror. The skin of his hands is swirled and mottled, an injury long healed but scarred for eternity. Azriel is watching your face closely, holding his hands close to his chest as though he was prepared to hide them away at the first flicker of fear.

You're grateful for the link between and all your shoddy attempts at blocking him out. Your love and your unwavering devotion drifts along the bond.

Azriel shudders, his wings giving the tiniest shiver. Slowly, gently, he reaches out towards you. You feel his hands, the unruly scarred feel of his skin sliding along your jaw to hold it tenderly. He has never held you like this before.

He cradles your face gently — like his hands have never held weapons of war, like they aren't twisted and marred with a memory he can't forget, like they're worthy of holding something so precious.

Azriel holds you as if you're holy — and he's come to kneel at your altar.

"I was afraid of what you would think." He admits. His voice is hoarse, gravelly as he fights off the lump in his throat. "I— on the first day we met, I felt your fear along the bond and—"

"It was not of you." You interrupt him, your hands jumping up to cover his own where they hold you. Azriel inhales sharply, eyes darting to watch.

But you pay him no heed, the palm of your hand covering his like a lover would. You let your thumb soothe up at down the ridges of his skin. You let your love ripple along the bond.

"It was not fear of you, Azriel." You repeat, your voice soft. His eyes are still fixed on your joined hands. His wings have begun to pick up, no longer drooping behind his back— you're not sure if he even notices.

"It was fear for how strongly I already felt for you." You lean into his hand and Azriel lets you, lets the length of your nose nuzzle into the touch of his hands — something no one in all his years of living had ever done before.

"It was fear that you already could ruin me," The words are murmured. "And that I would let you."

You whisper his name to pull his wide-eyed gaze from where his hands touch you and his hazel eyes burn into yours. Every whitened scar on his skin, every eyelash, the adorable pinch between his eyebrows; you drink it all in and smile at him. Azriel, your mate.

"Azriel, I chose this despite that fear. I choose you.”

Azriel quivers at the words, at your unflinching tone and suddenly the world seems such a perfect place, time moving around you, untouching, with such a perfect grace.

“I choose you too,” He murmurs, an emotion so strong a fire of possessiveness streaks down the bond. This time, you can feel his wall melt away, allowing you access to all he feels — his mountain of fear and his melting relief.

“Forgive me—” He begins and you laugh without meaning to, cutting him off.

“Stop,” you say, the word light and as pretty as your grin. “We keep doing this to ourselves, tying ourselves in knots over and over.”

Azriel laughs, his lips twitching into a smile as he allows himself to stroke his thumb lovingly over your cheek. The way you melt beneath it, your lashes fluttering and heart burning so brightly he can feel it in his own chest too— Azriel knows this longing will long outlive his body.

“We do,” He agrees. He dips his head a little lower, probably the only apology you’ll let him have, and inhales shakily. His hands shift across your face, down to hold your chin, his fingers pressed together tightly to hide the way they quiver.

“Then let me apologise in another way,” He murmurs, his voice closer to playful. “In a way I’ve been selfishly depriving you of.”

And when he kisses you, it’s with a reverence that softens all your corners.

His lips are plush and sweet, and with the way he dedicates himself to your bottom lip, you can’t help how you sigh into his mouth. He finds home in the curve of your mouth.

It’s delirious the way he kisses once, twice, three times like he’s hungry for something found only in your lips.

Your hands stagger forward, leaving his own to wind over around his neck. Your fingers curl up, raking through the hair on the nape of his neck — feeling the shiver that travels up his spine, his wings giving a little flare out.

He kisses you breathless, one hand abandoning your jaw to wrap snugly around your waist, bringing you closer to him.

When he pulls back, something within you glows molten gold at the panting that leaves his lips. He’s gazing at you, his hazel eyes alight in a way you haven’t quite seen before. His wings shift behind his shoulders, curling forward to wrap the two of you together, not quite touching.

Your heart thrills. You grin, your lips still just an inch apart as Azriel nudges forward, his own twitching in that way when he fights his smile. His lips brush yours, his smile barely held back.

“Have you forgiven me yet?” He says, sweet and low, allowing the smile to finally pull his pretty mouth up at the corners.

“Or should I make it up to you a little more?”

He kisses the corner of your mouth, chaste and gentle.

“Mmm,” your eyes are bright as they peer up at him, full of playful mirth and adoring affection. “You're forgiven but... I think you should make it up to me, just a little more.”

Azriel willingly obliges, his smile as sweet as the moonlight.

—

some people i thought might want to be tagged :)

@strangerstilinski @astoriaviviane @lana08 @florence-end @lportes-22 @torrick17 @florencemtrash @sidthedollface2 @seafrost-fangirl @goldenmagnolias @jeweline16 @meshellexplosionmurder @michellexgriffey @susiekern @toobsessedsstuff @fxckmiup @littlebookbengal @elenapril0502 @glitterypirateduck @hnyclover @technoelfie @itsapunklife @coffeecares

#it got very long... i'm sorry! #we can't talk about bad miscommunication and then me not set up valid reasons for miscommunication tho #i can't DO IT #azriel a big softie in this one... #i mean he always is :) #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #azriel shadowsinger x reader #azriel x you #azriel fanfic #azriel acotar #acotar #acotar fanfiction #azriel hurt/comfort #miscommunication #idiots in luv <3 #i need a writing tag.....

[chaoticshark98]

werewolf/vampire bruabba 👍🏽

#brubbaba bruabbisb bruabba yay !! #werewolf/vampire au because it seems very fitting for them #they dont get along at first but then bruno found himself coming back to her a lot then realized shes not a bad person just needed #someone to talk to (cause she lives alone in her huge ass castle 🤕🤕) #and abbacchio figured hes a big softy like bucciaratiis very intimidating but genuinely cares for her and and and #i would kill and die for them #jjba #jojos bizzare adventure vento aureo #leone abbacchio #bruno bucciarati #jjba part 5 #bruabba #🐺🧛🏽‍♀️! bruabba au

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 148

Danny is enjoying his vacation. He’s surrounded by so many creatures who are delighted to show him around, and there’s a bunch that are even called ghosts! Those ones seem to have deemed him as their favorite person, which isn’t hard, but they have also apparently decided that they have to follow him everywhere, including all the way home. And to whatever world he takes his next vacation-slash job as Clockwork’s student at. 

Oh well, he’s sure it won’t be that noticeable. 

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dcxdpxpokemon #DPxDCxPokemon #pokemon crossover #prompts #Danny is an adult & a big guy #He has so many pokemon following him all the time #Pokemon as a franchise doesn’t exist in his or the DC world #He’s a big softy who could crush someone’s head but is so gentle with the itty bitty & giant Creachurs #Someone does in fact notice these several creatures & their maybe-human friend #Good news: Damian was the first to notice him #Bad news: He is now trying to convince the man to give him an eevee #Danny has so many ghost-friends including a pocket mimickyu & a gengar son & a phantump daughter #Damian might try to get Bruce to meet the man with all the creatures in an attempt to get one #Danny is oblivious & thinks the kid is just really enthusiastic about learning about his pokefriends #You KNOW he has several space pokemon too let’s be honest #Danny gets free interdimensional-time vacations after finishing whatever his job there is #There’s definitely several carvings of him & his friends scattered around dimensions & time

[marcskywalker]

I'm still in my girl dad Arthur brainrot and thinking of baby Pendragon being sick and in pain (medieval colic or something idk) but Arthur is the one crying harder than the baby so they end up having to sedate him 😭🤌🏽

#Arthur Pendragon #Merlin #Merthur #Arwen #This is mainly about dad!Arthur #He deserves to be a dad so bad sgsgvdjshd #He's a big softie as a dad #Everything he wished he got from uther AND MORE #one of those dads that's big on skin to skin contact care

[suspiciouslackofclowns]

"I'm liking this angle," Steve lilts.

Billy smirks as he shifts, straddling Steve's hips and flattening his palms against his chest.

"Yeah?"

"Mhmm." Steve rubs his lover's outer thighs. "I just love looking at you."

"God, you're such a flirt. It's making me wanna drag you to bed and put a sock on the door."

"Gross," Max interjects.

Steve chuckles when Billy casts a faux glare at his sister.

"If gay shit makes you uncomfortable, you can leave."

"If gay shit made me uncomfortable, I wouldn't have come over," Max retorts. "I reserve my right to get the icks from hearing you talk about sex stuff."

"Oh, does gay sex gross you out, shitbird?"

"Any sex that you have grosses me out." Max glances up from her homework. "No offense, Steve."

"None taken. Your brother's pretty gross."

Steve whines dramatically when Billy smacks him on the chest.

"So much for romance," Billy tuts.

"Aw, c'mon, I'm just teasing."

Billy sits up and crosses his arms. Pouting silently. Steve slides one of his hands up to his partner's waist and rubs softly from side to side.

"Can I have a kiss?" he coos.

His tone has the blond relaxing, leaning down and complying with the request after a moment. Their bodies are flush. Steve would never say it out loud, but the full weight of his partner on top like this feels comparable to being smothered.

In the best possible way.

Steve hums, smoothing his palms up and wrapping his arms around Billy's lower back. When they part, Billy shifts downward so he can rest his head on Steve's chest.

"Am I crushing you?"

"Never."

"Mm, one of these days we're gonna be cuddling like this and you're gonna die in your sleep because you're too polite."

"Just be sure to put that I died doing what I loved on my headstone."

Billy chuckles and Steve spreads a smile.

"C'mon," Billy says.

He shifts off of Steve and lies on his side, opening his arm. Without the pressure, Steve is able to breathe deeper, and he can see a flush of heat cross Billy's expression when he sucks in a quiet breath.

Without protest, Steve rolls over to face his lover, moving into his chest and relishing in the feeling of strong arms wrapping around him.

"Y'know," Billy begins. He pets Steve's hair and noses a kiss on the top of his head. "If I'm seriously too heavy, it won't hurt my feelings if you tell me to get off. I know we joke about it but I really don't wanna make you uncomfortable."

"I love it, though," he coos.

"I know. I'm just saying."

"You're a big guy, sure, but I can handle you perfectly fine. I'm not scrawny, y'know."

Steve smooths his hand up and down Billy's back. Nuzzles into his chest and breathes in his scent.

"Okay, okay," Billy chuckles. "I just worry about it sometimes is all."

"I don't."

"No?"

"I really like how it feels when you lie on top of me. Like, yeah, you're heavy, but it's like all of my stress is washed out whenever I’m under you, and I'm finally able to relax."

Billy is quiet for a moment. He presses another kiss to Steve's hair and squeezes him.

"Didn't know you felt like that," he coos.

"I thought if I told you, you'd only hear the part about you being heavy and not wanna do it anymore."

"Mm, we can still snuggle like that. Do I need to start giving you stronger hugs, Stevie?"

Steve sighs, closing his eyes.

"I'd like that."

Almost immediately, Billy wraps him up tighter in his arms and hugs him close, pulling an involuntary sound from Steve's lips.

Rather than say anything, Billy just continues cuddling like that. Keeps Steve pressed against him and smudges kisses on the top of his head. At least, he does for a little while. When he finally relaxes his grip, Steve sucks in another quiet breath and sighs deeply, his entire body going limp.

"That was nice," he hums.

"Better?"

"Mhmm," Steve sighs. "I love you so much, sweet thing."

"I love you too," Billy chuckles.

He pets Steve's hair. It's quiet for a beat until Max drops her pencil on the coffee table and leans back on her hands.

"Sometimes I wish I could just live here," she says.

Steve rolls over and raises his eyebrows.

"You kinda already do."

"No, I mean like all the time." She looks over at the couple and then back at the coffee table. "Being around my parents is exhausting, and they don't ever let Lucas come around because he's a boy. Not to mention that they don't even like each other, not like you guys do."

Billy props himself up on his elbow and dawns a sympathetic expression.

"You know you're welcome to come over anytime, right? And that it's okay to invite Sinclair," he coos.

"Mhm," Steve adds. "Just let us know, and we're fine with picking you guys up and stuff too."

Max nods to herself. Redness quickly overtakes her complexion and Billy and Steve are quick to sit up when she sniffles.

"It's just so different coming over here. Being around you guys when you talk about going on dates and how much you love each other, even your arguments, is making me realize how shitty things are at home."

Billy slides off of the sofa and sits next to his sister on the floor, reaching around her shoulders and pulling her into his chest. She complies almost immediately, buries her face into his shoulder and takes handfuls of his shirt as tears spill down her cheeks.

He shushes her quietly. Rubs her back and squeezes her tighter. After a few moments, her breath evens out, and she sighs.

Steve joins them on the floor and sets a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Do you want me to talk to Susan about it?" Billy asks softly.

Max nods. Squeezing her eyes shut and sniffling. Billy glances at Steve and the brunet offers a smile.

"Of course," he says.

"I'll talk to her about it tomorrow, then." Billy gives Max one last squeeze before he loosens his grip and she leans back to wipe her eyes. "How about you take a break from homework and we go out to eat somewhere? Would that make you feel better, Squirt?"

Max smiles and nods, giggling when Billy playfully nudges her shoulder with his arm as he stands up.

"You do give really good hugs, by the way," she says.

"Can it and go put your shoes on."

She giggles again and gets up as well, padding into her bedroom and sitting on the bed to lace her sneakers up.

Steve leans into his partner's side and smooths his hand over his chest, tilting his face up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

"You're such a big sweetheart," he croons.

"Mm, you really don't mind? I know I was asking a lot just to have her live here sometimes, but this is like—"

He's cut off by Steve sealing their lips together. It lasts for a beat, and when they part, Steve is smiling fondly at him.

"I'm more than okay with it. I know you're worried about her, and I don't mind her living here with us at all," Steve says. He pats Billy's chest and smirks. "We're probably gonna have to get her noise-cancelling headphones, though. I can't really imagine you succeeding at being quiet."

"Oh my god, gross," Max groans.

Billy scoffs and nods towards the door.

"Go put your bike in the garage, brat, we'll be out in a second."

Max rolls her eyes and trudges to the front door, leaving it open behind her once she goes outside and Billy tsks as he snatches his keys off the hook.

"Wait, does this mean no more couch sex?"

Max runs back up the steps, swinging into the doorframe with a look of horror on her face.

"What? I am never sitting on that couch ever again!"

"Bike. Garage. Now," Billy hisses.

Steve clasps his hand over his mouth and resists the urge to laugh, especially when their sibling banter continues out on the porch. He simply shakes his head and grabs his coat before following them out the door.

-

This will be added to my things from tumblr series on ao3 here shortly under the title Big Brothers if you’re looking to save it on there <3

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #max mayfield #max and billy #chubby billy hargrove #autistic!steve harrington #he needs that deep compression real bad #fluff fic #I think Billy is a big ol softie and so does everyone else #it’s canon #I wrote it down #my writing #ficlet

[pushing500]

The Tumblr poll has spoken!!

Great timing, Randy. Appreciate it. 🙄

He doesn't wanna talk about it. (in his defense it was very dark)

The second time's the charm, it seems! No more fungus zombie infection to worry about for now.

I think Laursen is feeling a little overprotective of his fellow cultists after the close call we've had, bless his heart <3

First | Next | Previous

#rimworld #gracie plays #The Children of Ecthuctu #art #my art #traditional art #rimworld art #unpolished art #that darn solar flare #Randy has horrendous timing #Luckily it was only a minor botched surgery #It must be new to Vasso #doing surgery to help rather than harm #I am VERY tempted to change Socks' name to Sock #but I don't think I will #Might be a bit too soon y'know #And Laursen's shooting inspiration was kind of sweet #He probably feels bad that he couldn't save Socks from the bites #He's a big softie and I'm sure he loves all his friends so much #Poor guy <3 #Thank you for voting on the poll!! #I wouldn't have been able to decide on my own #Have a fabulous day!! <3 <3

[robotsandramblings]

honestly, Hunter never even stood a chance

#YOU BIG SOFTIE I FUCKING LOVE YOU [screams like a banshee] #hunter #omega #the bad batch #star wars #SQUEEEE

[cherrypeaking]

these two pictures alone would be 75% of the reason why i believe in service dom/pleasure sub taehyun the most 🤭

like these just scream “mommy? have i been a good boy?” 🥺

#hard dom taehyun is hot but i’m a big softie so 🥺 #like that’s my little kitty who can’t do anything bad 🥺😭😭 #LITTLE BABY KITTY CAT 🥹🥺😭

[katartna]

Merry Christmas! 🎁🎄💎🔮

#oc #digital art #christmas art #I really like making these cards! I want to try my hand at it more down the line #Alternate/festive outfits are also really fun #the top one is my oc Kiran and the bottom one is my friend Seren/Pan's oc Lumi #Both will fail at grinch school #Kiran is a thief but a big softie who does Robinhood things and reverse pickpockets people to give them a nice surprise #Lumi has the potential for Grinch but she just is trying to get by after some bad stuff that happened to her so she deserves a treat

[in-my-loki-feels]

Thinking of a line of dialogue and then whispering sadly, "But that's just mean," and adding it to the open doc anyway. :(

#i made myself feel bad #:( :( :( #this is why i usually avoid writing angst because i'm a big softie who doesn't like to be mean to the characters #writing

[dramaaddict]

Also Chen Wen De 5min later:

#gone with the rain #cdrama #zhang nan #sun yi zou #CWD never beating simp allegations #I feel so bad for him #he's such a gentleman despite being an ex-bandit #and a big softie #General Tsundere

[mayhemsims]

Bo Valencia Your local wanna be bad boy 💀

#I love him #He's a big softy #he's not even bad lol #simblr #my sims #ts4 portrait #ts4 edit #ts4 screenshots #the sims 4 #the sims #sims 4 #show us your sims #ts4 pictures #ts4 simblr #sims 4 portrait #Bo Valencia

[endenope]

i just saw somebody describe a handjob from someone with large hands as a "hand career" and it made me think of ur current wip LMAOOO

HAND CAREER LABSHSJBSSH

its lyney having his hands on wrio tho so this is more of the opposite bc that size difference just kills me in the best ways

#i hc wrio as the largest bad doggy while lyney rlly is ur classic pretty twink #and then its wrio being a big softie like an overgrown dog (who can be rough tho) and lyney having a temper like a cat #so delicious i love #reply

[pink-pone]

“Arrrgh...be ye friend or foe, little pony? Don’t quite matter to me, so best be watching yer flank. There be dangerous creatures out at sea...and you’ve just had the pleasure o’ meeting one.”

art by Jeshh

#yoooooo give it up for big bad pirate boy Bruceyyyy #he's a real softie and only his closest allies know it lol #bruce ironjaw #my oc #gingerverse #mlp oc #dragony #mlp #mlp:fim #mlp art #art for me #My Little Pony #my little pony friendship is magic

[ghouljams]

cowboy!Gaz lives rent free in my head. there’s just something about being with someone knowing that you’d both knock someone out for each other!! i love him so much. -💅🏼💞

Cowboy!Gaz is prime sweetheart material, husband material. Who doesn't want the security of knowing their partner could and would knock someone out for them? He'll drop whoever was bothering you and then continue being a big softie <3

#ghoul speaks #💅💞 anon #kyle gaz garrick #I love him #honestly I love the softies #I think all the boys are big softies honestly #I know I write nasty sex stuff that isn't soft but the boys are softies #God I gotta write more for the demon au because I am like #please do not think that Ghost is always like that with sex #that is Die heightening his aggression for her own wants #and Ghost is going to feel real bad about it

[saturn-sends-hugs]

BUCKLE UP ITS EPISODE THOUGHTS TIME

(ep12 spoilers under the cut :))

y’all

yALL

those first goddamn beats?

i sit down to watch every episode and during every single intro i’m there doing my little air drums along with intro beats but dude??

this time??

where they just cut out?!?!!

the sheer fucking unease, INSTANTLY, that was INSANE. I know it’s such a small thing but if that isn’t some form of masterful art i don’t know what is.

and the way that continued into the first shot of the GAR base in sepia, washed out and almost empty even with all the stormtroopers walking around, our first view of Crosshair was immediately unsettling because it all felt wrong.

but into the real stuff—

I feel like towards the beginning of this episode, we were seeing how complacent Crosshair is being. He’s standing around, and although he speaks up a tiny bit when Lieutenant Don’t-Give-A-Shit (love that we’ve all collectively decided he doesn’t get to have his name bskhsjsjk) is rolling his eyes at the clones, Cross backs down and says nothing after that jab at them about being “used equipment.” He can’t be happy with it for sure, but he’s letting it happen because what else should he do? Speak up? And get kicked out of the Empire that’s keeping him working? No thank you, he’d rather grit his teeth and let it happen. A mission’s a mission.

Later though, when we meet Mayday, we see the first moment of Crosshair rebelling. Mayday speaks up against the Lieutenant when Crosshair doesn’t, and once he’s gone, he brings the heat lamp a little bit closer to Crosshair. Call it cliché but I think this is a literal representation of what Mayday is doing for Crosshair, he literally brings that spark closer, he shows him that they can and should care about each other while the empire doesn’t. And when Mayday tells him his name, that moment is an invitation. It’s a calling to Crosshair, to see if denies it, sticks by the empire and uses his number or better yet, doesn’t respond at all. But he doesn’t. He chooses his name, and how has it been since he’s said it out loud? Last time he heard it was probably from Cody, and before that the Batch themselves. And in this case, he’s choosing to use his name, choosing that little rebellion against the empire at Mayday’s invitation.

And isn’t it fitting how his name is Mayday? He’s a literal call for help. He’s Crosshair’s call for help, one he can’t bring himself to voice on his own, but Mayday is bringing it all to light anyway. He brings up how this new Lieutenant hasn’t commanded a real mission, he hasn’t earned their respect, so why should he treat them how he does? Crosshair was a commander for a minute, he must’ve thought the same things. And when the cargo turns out to be stormtrooper gear, Mayday is right there with his line of, “We were good soldiers. We followed orders. …And for what?” What was it for? To be separated from his brothers, to have to hunt them down, to be demoted from Commander after all that effort and to now be helping deliver cargo? Cargo meant to help the empire, but intentionally held back, hidden from the clones? Nothing Crosshair has done has made anything better, he can stay quiet and loyal all he likes, but it’s not doing him any favors. The empire doesn’t care that they’re good soldiers, they’re all still expendable.

And through the episode, we see Crosshair trusting Mayday more and more. First with the pressure mine, when he talks about the Batch and Mayday ends up saving him from the mine. Then when they’re ambushing the raiders, he returns the favor, taking out the raiders about to overwhelm Mayday. And when they go down to look at the cargo, Crosshair does his little slide thing (omG he is so sweet he is SO SWEET) and that’s the first moment he takes his helmet off around Mayday, he finally trusts him enough to be more vulnerable. ( @jealous-sloth77 made a BEAUTIFUL post abt his helmet and it’s significance/parallels to his vulnerability, highly encourage u to go read it if u haven’t!!)

And right here, after the avalanche, Crosshair’s journey to bring Mayday back to the base shows how he’s losing his loyalty to the empire. It’s not worth carrying dead weight, logically he shouldn’t bring the Commander back, not when he’d be better off just saving himself. But he doesn’t. He chooses to help Mayday, and along the way he’s slipping even further from the empire. He’s lost his helmet, he’s letting Mayday use his Firepuncher as a crutch, he’s carrying that dead weight anyway and none of this is what a “good soldier” to the empire should do. And when the ships fly overhead, my first thought was that they should use a flare or something, call for help, since surely the Empire could see them from here? But they don’t have the gear, they never got the supplies they needed and besides, would the Empire even care?

By the time Crosshair makes it back to base, he’s nearly done. He pleads with the Lieutenant one last time to help him, to do something, but he doesn’t. He sits there and watches Mayday die, then says that was the point. He was a soldier to the Empire. His death was just inevitable.

And Crosshair snaps.

This moment where he shoots the Lieutenant is so intense because there’s so many pieces tying into it.

Firstly, he uses his handgun. He’s a sniper, used to killing from afar, but this time? He calls after the Lieutenant, waits for him to turn and look him in the eyes, and then he shoots him point blank. Crosshair is done.

Second, we all know it by now but the vulture parallels? The way Mayday introduced that: “Vicious creatures. But you have to admire them. They find a way to survive.” That’s Crosshair. That’s who he is, he isn’t one to balk at violence, he does what needs to be done. And you have to admire it, because it’s true, he’s finding his way to survive. And in particular in this moment, he’s choosing his own path to survival. He’s cutting himself away from the Empire, the lone vulture that survives despite it all.

But right at the end, it doesn’t work.

The Empire takes him again, probably leaves Mayday on that platform, and he’s sent off to be experimented on by the Empire. By Emerie.

And that’s the last point I want to make with this, is all the parallels throughout this episode to the rest of the batch. The most obvious I think is Emerie. Her goggles immediately reminded me of Tech, and here how she’s surveying Crosshair, it almost seems like Cross makes that connection too. Not just that, but her voice is incredibly similar to Omega’s (due to the voice actor ofc but still, that’s a choice), and as the screen fades out, her glasses stay prominent on the screen, and she only feels more reminiscent of Tech.

But she’s not the only parallel. With the pressure mine in the cave, Mayday directly says he’s “not a bombs expert.” But we’re all thinking of who is. And with the blood in the snow, Crosshair tracking it to the source, he’s quiet literally hunting down the target. Him shooting the shuttle on the landing pad, the explosion (i am so sorry listen u really thought i wasn’t gonna bring up echo in this post abt the crosshair ep u FOOL), not to mention the whole ending sequence with Crosshair waking up confused in a medbay? There’s even some parallels to the 501st (the troopers helmets set together while Mayday mourns), not that that has to do with Crosshair, but still. Even in the one episode without them, there were so many parallels to Crosshairs brothers, and I’m certain I missed a few. Some of it was probably just coincidence or the writers keeping us entertained despite the others not being here, but it also feels like little pieces of them just keep showing up. And I’m sure Crosshair would be noticing it too.

This episode was just chock full of little beautiful moments, the music, the parallels, the characters, Crosshair’s lines in particular were just incredible, and Mayday was such a new version of “Clone Commander” that we just haven’t seen before. Everything about this episode could be something I would talk abt for HOURS but it would eventually turn into incoherent sobbing noises because my SWEET BOY U POOR POOR MAN WHERE ARE YOUR BROTHERS YOU NEED THEMMMMMM. I want to give Cross a hug SO BAD, he deserves every nice thing after today, that was a TRIP.

if it wasn’t like 11 at night when i was posting this i would tag people (and if i was more confident bkshsjsj) but i always love hearing peoples thoughts, either on this ep or predictions for where this storyline goes in the next one!! :)

#no but ok crosshairs little slide down the mountain i almost SOBBED HE FELT LIKE PRE-ORDER CROSS AGAIN AAAAAAABSJSJIWHWIWIW #also someone get this man a heated blanket and some cucumber for his eyes RN he just walked through a blizzard for like a DAY after a big #ole bright flash went off directly in his face and then just?? kept walking through the blinding white snow to save the reg he just met?? #cross u absolutely softy ur wonderful now sit down and take a nap for the love of lula please #probs a bit late to be posting this but eh who cares it was fun :) #if i tell myself internal validation is all i need one day it will be true bskhjwjskjsks #sw tbb #sw tbb spoilers #tbb spoilers #tbb s2 spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #bad batch spoilers #the bad batch #tbb s2 #tbb crosshair #i should really sleep now lol