#interlocking circle necklace

[shokorohandmade]

Shokoro's Circle Necklace Jewelry Collection, New Interlocking Circle Necklace with Four Circles

A Circle is never apart. It is a reflection of your story. A symbol of everlasting and unbreakable love between family members, friends and soulmates

It is thoughtful jewelry gift for someone special.

Visit us to find more about our Jewelry with meaning behind it

Website: Shokoro Handmade (Dainty Jewelry Brand Canada) https://www.shokorohandmade.com/

Shoko���s Blog: Subscribe to receive shokoro's blog 

( topic: Gemstone. Jewelry, Fashion, Life Style, Chakra stone, Angel Number…)

Etsy Store: Shokoro Design

https://www.etsy.com/ca/shop/ShokoroDesign

Etsy Genuine Natural Gemstone Jewelry Store: From Earth by Shokoro

https://www.etsy.com/ca/shop/FromEarthByShokoro

shokoro_ca 

https://www.instagram.com/shokoro_ca/

Facebook

[vanscoy-diamonds]

Why a Diamond Chain Pendant Set Makes the Ultimate Sentimental Gift—And How to Pick the Right One

Gift-giving often marks the most cherished milestones in life—anniversaries, the birth of a child, or personal accomplishments. Within the first sixty seconds of unwrapping, a thoughtfully chosen diamond chain pendant set can express emotions words rarely capture. Pieces like the diamond interlocking circle necklace merge symbolism with elegance, creating lasting impressions rooted in love and memory.

The Emotional Value of a Diamond Pendant

Jewelry becomes meaningful when it resonates with both the giver and the recipient. Among all pieces, a pendant rests closest to the heart—literally and emotionally. The beauty of a diamond pendant lies not only in its sparkle but in its ability to carry sentiment through generations. Whether representing the unbreakable bond between partners, a new chapter as parents, or the strength of a lifelong friendship, diamond pendants serve as wearable keepsakes of life's greatest moments.

A diamond chain pendant set stands apart as an all-in-one gift solution. Coordinating earrings or bracelets add completeness to the gesture, showing not only aesthetic consideration but emotional intentionality. Matching sets reflect unity, which makes them ideal for celebrating shared journeys.

Symbolism of Interlocking Circle Necklaces

When it comes to powerful symbolism, interlocking circles have long represented eternal connection. In diamond form, this motif reaches a new level of elegance and sophistication. The diamond interlocking circle necklace becomes more than a design—it signifies two lives, two souls, or even two moments in time joined without end.

Designers often use platinum or 14K gold settings to enhance the strength and longevity of this shape. Diamonds nestled into each circle elevate the visual appeal while reinforcing the idea that beauty and resilience coexist. For anyone choosing a pendant as a romantic gift, this style delivers a message that is both visual and emotional.

How to Select the Perfect Pendant

Selecting the ideal pendant set involves more than visual preference. Buyers should factor in lifestyle, material sensitivities, and the recipient’s personal aesthetic. While a minimalist may prefer a sleek solitaire pendant, someone with a bold sense of style might lean toward layered or embellished pieces.

To begin the selection process, consider metal type—platinum for durability and luxury, or rose gold for warmth and softness. Next, evaluate the diamond grade by referencing the 4Cs: Cut, Color, Clarity, and Carat. A well-cut diamond will reflect light brilliantly, while color and clarity contribute to its overall appearance. Carat weight determines size and should balance proportionally with the chain and pendant design.

Van Scoy Diamonds, for instance, offers an excellent example of this process through their showroom and online platform. Customers can browse a variety of shapes and settings, compare lab-grown and natural diamonds, and even schedule virtual consultations to finalize their decisions.

What Are the 4Cs and Why Do They Matter for Pendants?

The 4Cs—Cut, Color, Clarity, and Carat—define diamond quality. A pendant may be smaller than a ring, but it still benefits from high-clarity, well-cut stones. The Cut determines brilliance; Color impacts hue and purity; Clarity reflects how free a diamond is from inclusions; and Carat affects the size. Knowing these factors helps customers align beauty with budget while ensuring that their pendant maintains value and appeal.

Many reputable jewelers provide educational tools to help customers evaluate these factors confidently. Some even include certification with purchases, adding assurance that each diamond meets ethical and quality benchmarks.

Is Financing Available for Diamond Gifts?

Yes, many jewelry stores provide flexible financing plans, especially for significant purchases like a diamond chain pendant set. Financing opens access to higher-value gifts without compromising immediate financial stability. Plans often include six-month interest-free layaways, monthly installment options, or lease-to-own programs that don’t require credit approval.

Retailers such as Van Scoy Diamonds, for example, offer a mix of revolving credit, layaway options, and partnerships with financial platforms to accommodate a range of budgets. These services allow romantic gift buyers to secure timeless pieces while managing expenses effectively.

Ethical Considerations and Conflict-Free Guarantees

Modern buyers care deeply about the origins of their diamonds. Choosing conflict-free diamonds ensures that your gift not only expresses love but also supports ethical labor and sourcing practices. The Kimberley Process Certification Scheme helps jewelers guarantee that their diamonds are free from human rights abuses and environmental harm.

Look for vendors who disclose their sourcing policies and offer certified conflict-free stones. This step elevates your gift into a statement of integrity and compassion, amplifying its sentimental impact.

Final Thoughts

A diamond chain pendant set offers more than beauty—it captures emotion, intention, and shared memories in one timeless piece. When selected with care and understanding, it becomes a powerful emblem of commitment, love, and gratitude. Incorporating styles like the diamond interlocking circle necklace adds depth and symbolism, perfect for those seeking a romantic and lasting gift.

By learning about the 4Cs, exploring flexible financing, and prioritizing ethically sourced diamonds, buyers can make a confident and meaningful choice. For every anniversary, celebration, or new beginning, a well-chosen diamond pendant becomes a treasure that transcends time.

[seasprincess]

Rosie’s gif fics

MDNI ☆Spencer Reid x Wife!reader

Warnings: smut, dom!Spencer, dirty talk, pet names, short

Spencer’s hand a trail up and down your sides. Grabbing your hips as he moves his. Thrusting into yours making all kinds of noises a man of his intelligence shouldn’t be making. He is down bad for you. Has been ever since the first day you walked into the room all those years ago and laughed at his stupid joke.

He had gone away with work again to catch some bad guy while you had to stay home waiting for him to come back. Some nights it was hard, missing waking up with him next to you. So when Spencer comes home he is sure to make up for his disappearance.

“Feel good sweetheart?” He says before placing a gentle kiss on your neck, his ‘beard’ tickling you slightly. Lips hovering above it before he groans. His thrusting in and out of you feeling so good he doesn’t want to ever stop.

You nod quickly before letting out a moan, looking into the eyes of the man you call your husband. His necklace that you had bought him as a gift that he will never not be wearing is gently hitting your chin.

Spencer’s hand comes up to your ribs as he brings his face closer to yours. Lips above yours before he tilts his head to kiss your lips. His thrusts don’t stop nor slow as he moves his hand to grip your cheek.

He pulls his lips off yours to let out a groan, eyes closing. He loves this, he loves you. God he loves you.

“I’m close baby. You gonna cum with me?” He says which earns a whine and a nod from you. Too blissed out to reply verbally.

Spencer just smirks, gripping your chin tighter as he kisses you again.

“I can feel you tightening around me sweetheart.” Spencer’s words make you moan again. Sometimes the words that come out of that man’s mouth shocks you. You can’t believe this is the same man who once would get all flustered by a kiss on the cheek. He’s definitely changed, his jobs changed.

You love him any way he is. Cause deep down he’s still that nerdy boy who pushed his glasses up his nose every couple minutes.

“I’m gonna cum.” You finally speak up after being practically non verbal for the past five minutes. Your hand grips the man’s bicep as his fingers trail down your body. Going to the place that he knows is going to drive you insane.

His fingers reach your clit, slowly rubbing circles as he smiles against your lips in a teasing manner. He knows how to turn you into a moaning mess in his hands. Took him a couple of years to learn it. But he knows it now. You showed him when you first started dating how too. And he’s just got better with time, perfecting it.

His free hand is placed in yours. Interlocking your fingers. Making this experience more intimate.

“Cum on my cock baby.” Spencer places another kiss softly to your lips. His sweet kiss is completely different to the way he’s thrusting into you. Showing his two personalities in this moment.

With his words you don’t hold back and release. The noises that come out of your mouth are pornographic. Filling the room as you look up him who releases shortly after you. Not wanting to wait any longer.

He helps you ride it out with him before pulling out and laying on his back. Panting that matches yours as he looks up at the ceiling.

Both of you lay there silently for a couple minutes. Just lingering in the events that had just happened. You’re so happened back.

Your hand lands on his chest before slowly moving down further. Spencer chuckles before grabbing your wrist.

Let’s just say that wasn’t the only round of the night.

a/n: i love me a spicy Spencer. not proof read either bbys

[muntitled]

Rich Boyfriend Chronicles

Pairings: Zhong Chenle x Fem!Reader

Summary: You know how Chenle got when it comes to money. You know how he got when you spent it. More specifically, when you spent his money.

Warnings: Language, Established Relationship, Codependency, So Slight!Toxic relationship, Humor, Domestic Fluff, Slight Angst, Jealousy (Weaponizing Jisung (sorry Jiji)), HighMaintenance!Reader, Hyperfem!Reader, Coercion, Smut (+18) mdni, Ownership kink, Needy!Chenle, Unprotected Sex, Premature Orgasm, Dom/Sub Themes, Dubious Consent, Drunk!Chenle, Dirty Talk, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Subspace

He wonders when you’ll arrive…

You were supposed to be here already. To save him from his friends and their incessant banter.

As Chenle watches the rain droplets running down the restaurant window, he suddenly wishes he never told you to go ahead and have your shopping day alone in the district. He brought you to his city and yet, you weren't even here to enjoy it with him.

But you had pleaded so prettily…

“It's not like I’m going away for good Chenle, I promise I'm just going to shop in the district for the day,” You were already interlocking your van cleef bracelet around your wrist (a bracelet that he bought) and Chenle had watched from his post sitting at the desk. The hotel room was already littered with Chenle's wires from the various gadgets he had set up. His PlayStation was plugged in the moment you two checked in.

“Besides, I'm sure you'll want to enjoy your day off before you're tied down with schedules for the rest of our stay here. Mark said promo in China would be no joke.”

Chenle had spent the morning of his day off consumed by a new video game, but at the sound of your departure, he lowered his headsets and swivelled in his chair to watch you. His eyes glazed over the sundress that hugged your body with my trepidation and much suspicion. His headphones hung lazily from his neck.

“Who’s taking you shopping?” He hoped his inquiry sounded less like a crazed control freak and more like innocent questioning.

A knowing kind of smile had blossomed across your face then as you stalked towards him with your hands behind your back.

“Why?” you tucked a stray braid behind your ear as you neared him, “You jealous?”

Chenle's body immediately tensed when you plopped yourself on your lap.

“Don't be stupid,” he hid behind his usual snark but you could feel his tense muscles shift underneath you. "We have dinner tonight with the others." He was significantly smaller in stature compared to the volume that accentuated your curves but his hands wrapped tentatively around your waist all the same. Chenle's eyes were wide as he looked up at you and his hands held a slight tremor as they rubbed feather light circles on your hips.

“Where did you even buy this bracelet?”

You froze on top of him. “uh, church-”

“They sell van cleef necklaces at church?”

“W-Well..." you swallow thickly, your arms encircling around his neck. "It was a sale! Yes, a church sale, the money's going to charity! Praise the lord-”

“The only charity my money is going to is to you.” he buries his face into your neck and you squirm when he wiggles his finger into your side, eliciting a wave of giggles.

“Who's taking you shopping?” He asked again.

“Well, you are, Chenle,” Your words barely registered in his fogged up bain because you were bending down now, and your lips were tickling the side of his ear as your left hand drifted down his clothed torso, “This is my first time in Beijing,” Your whispers sent the boy hurtling into that very primal part of his brain that was only filled with one thought and one thought alone.

“You want me to have a good time, don't you? That's why you invited me?” Chenle's brain had been reduced to mush and his grip on reality was fumbling by the minute. All he could think about was your hand lining his boxers.

“Yea-” his voice cracks and he lifts his hips ever so slightly, trying to steer your hand to the right place, “You want me to have a good time on this trip right?”

You were absolutely diabolical. Watching his eyes flutter shut as the Beijing sun drifted through the curtains, extenuating every needy twitch along his visage.

In complete vulnerablility he said, “Yeah,” he whispered again, “Fuck, I’ll give you anything, I’ll do anything, just… carry on-” The smirk on your face grew until you were swiping your palm over the hard bulge in his sweatpants only momentarily before you drifted your hand to his left pocket. The little amount of contact was enough to have Chenle raggedly exhaling as his hips stuttered and a rash shiver wracked through his spine.

You sit back up again, on your haunches, still seated on his lap with his wallet dangling from your fingers.

“Shopping allowance, please and thank you,” You hand him the wallet with a cheeky smile and a bowed head.

Chenle rolls his eyes, turning his head to stare out at the Beijing metropolitan beyond. His whisper is starkly incredulous as he mumbles a quiet “This Girl…”

“Quick,” you had urged, now bouncing in silent anticipation as you waited for him to hand over what it is you needed. In that very second, Chenle's hand digs into your hip. “Don't do that,” his fingers dug into your hips, immediately stopping your excited bounce, “Or you’re really not going shopping,”

In hindsight, Chenle should have perhaps withheld his card and forced you on this dinner with friends. However, he also couldn't deny the very suspicious ache in his gut that curled and coiled during these times when you needed him. It makes his head dizzy with lust.

He wished he didn't let you go.

Despite the hushed cacophony filling the Dim Sum restaurant, Chenle cannot help but think his table is the loudest of them all. Haechan and Jeno’s back-and-forth does nothing to allay that slight trickle of embarrassment that crawls up the back of Chenle's neck and he lightly rubs his face with both hands, wanting nothing more than to sink into the restaurant's leather seats. He raises his phone, perfectly content with tapping away at his social media while they bickered around him.

"You're gonna cover our bill.” Jeno says very sternly as the bottom of his beer glass hits the wooden table. His lips are pursed as he swallows his drink, but his eyes are dead serious. “Jaemin covered it in Copenhagen.” Jeno's finger prods at his chest hidden under a thick fleece sweater, “I did Rotterdam. You're covering the bill, Haechan.” Jeno rarely had to say anything above an unreasonable volume, and Chenle was much the same in that regard. When Jeno said something the first time, people usually listened. He rarely had to speak up for a second time but Chenle supposed that was why God made Haechan. To infuriate Jeno.

Chenle sinks further in his seat as he immediately scrolls into your chat. He types his ‘Where are you?’ with the urgency of a broken man and he frowns when you don't respond within the immediate minute.

Chenle did not like that.

He much preferred you when you were messaging him compulsively, especially when the two of you found yourselves apart.

Your text arrives, but not soon enough.

[17:21, You] Are you having a good time, baby?

[17:22, Chenle] No, Haechan and Jeno are acting like hooligans in front of everyone and Jisung thinks I don't notice him leaning over my shoulder to read this text.

Chenle looks up at the boy next to him, a very unimpressed deadpan painted across his face.

[17:30, You] Tell Jiji I say hi

[17:30, Chenle] No.

“Tell her I said Hi back,” Jisung whispers. He winces, not even a second later, grabbing his arm and lightly cradling the spot where Chenle just shoved him.

“Ah!” Haechan hollers from across the table, “Kids, no fighting-”

“Focus on paying the bill.” Jeno mumbles.

Chenle doesn't look up from your chat as his hands suffocate the little digital box. He's breathing heavily, suddenly uncomfortable with this little hypothetical crush you have on Jisung. He knew you were joking to piss him off. You knew that he knew you were joking to piss him off, but Chenle still rolls his eyes anyway. He tucks his chin into his hoodie as he grumbles.

[17:39, Chenle] I'd seriously rather be here with you

[17:40, You] Aww babe I miss you too

[17:40, Chenle] How much?

[17:41,You] Like… Alot, Idk?

[17:42, Chenle] Show me

[17:42, You] Show you what?

[17:43, Chenle] How much you miss me

[17:44, You] i'm still trying on dresses if you wanna see

Chenle's eyes widen slightly as a zap of excitement strikes through his stomach. He quenches his dry mouth with his beer.

Meanwhile, this round has continued to go unpaid with Haechan, ever the stubborn bull.

Almost immediately, a Facetime call lights up his screen and Chenle immediately rises from his seat, scooting out of the booth and heading straight for the bathroom.

"Okay, well I don't feel like paying for anyone's food," Haechan folds his arms in defiance and juts his nose up to the sky, all while turning his head very smugly.

It's the last thing Chenle hears before he's answering your facetime as he slinks into one of the bathroom stalls.

His phone is lowered, his brows furrowed in frustration. All of that eases away however, the second your face is projected onto his screen. From the mess in the background he can see you're back at the hotel.

The way his heart skips a beat at the sight of you should've been incredibly embarrassing but Chenle doesn't care, because you've propped the phone on a shelf, giving him a more-than-perfect view of the dress you were trying on.

“How’s my little monster doing?” You ask distractedly as you zipped up the dress. Chenle wishes he was there to help you zip it back down. Unfortunately for you, your boyfriend wasn't in the business of appearing like a lovesick puppy. He only leans his back against the stall as he says, “Where are you? I thought you'd be here by now?”

“You actually believed I'd willingly want to have dinner with your friends?” You give him an unimpressed look as you throw your braids over your shoulder, admiring the cocktail dress in the mirror.

“There's only so much flirting from Jaemin I can handle, Chenle-”

“Jaemin's the reason you ditched m- wait.” Chenle murmurs distractedly as he brings the phone closer to his face. You watch with a smirk as he says, “Turn around.” You do as he says, turning slowly to show him how this particular design snuggly around your curves. His breathing is heavy.

“I look good, right?”

In classic Chenle fashion, he skirts past your fishing for a compliment to directly say, “That looks expensive.”

“But I look so pretty.”

“Take it off-” there's an urgency in his voice that fuels you with an immense sense of power. You knew it was a good dress. It's better than good. The manner in which the sweetheart neckline dipped was anything but innocent, and you knew Chenle would like it.

“Why don't you come take it off for me?”

A wispy curse drifts out of his mouth as he throws his head back against the wall before he says. “I'll be there soon.”

Chenle is rushing out the bathroom as he pockets his phone, carelessly swerving past the other tables in search of his own.

The bickering has yet to cease. He's so happy you're saving him.

“And where are you going?” Renjun asks with a frown on his face.

“The hotel.” Is all Chenle says as he slips on his letterman jacket. Below him, Jisung blushes a deep red, Having clearly understood the implication of Chenle's words.

"You're a child."

"I'll be a child." Comes Haechan's rebuttal, "A child that's not covering the bill-"

Chenle observes this as he stands before the table, ready to head out.

"Jesus, stop being kids!" Chenle finds his voice somewhere amongst the rubble of the conversation. "'I’ll cover this round, just stop fighting, God-”

Chenle's hand is already reaching into his denim jeans, patting idly for his wallet.

“Would you look at that,” Jeno says, sending Haechan the deadliest glare he could muster, “An actual adult.”

“Doesn't Chenle's dad like… Own the city?” Haechan deadpans, “So I expected him to pay anyway-”

This statement only brought about a fresh conflict, which Chenle disrupts with his slightly deflated interjection.

“Uh… guys…” One by one, they all snap their eyes towards him and Chenle's shoulders sag. A sheepish kind of smile crinkles Chenle's eyes.

“One of you are gonna have to cover the bill- I don't have my card,”

“Why don't you have your card?” comes Jisung's interjection before Mark slips in, “That's very irresponsible of you-”

Chenle was already giving them a farewell salute before turning his back on the table.

He's typing hurriedly across the screen of his phone, already ordering an Uber.

“Just charge the bill to my room,” he tells the man stationed at the front of the house. They exchanged the necessary details before he's off.

-

You know how Chenle got when it comes to money. You know how he got when you spent it. More specifically, when you spent his. You're not sure where that kind of desire came from, perhaps from some part of his brain that wanted to take care of you.

Since you last spoke, you've been seated idly on the bed with jittery nerves, your nails tapping against the water bottle. The relics of your shopping spree sit idly in the corner and you watch yourself idly in the mirror. It's a floor-to-ceiling that sat directly adjacent to the bed.

You're nervous. That much is clear. Bubbling just beneath the surface, however, is sheer excitement.

The ice cold water flowing down your throat had done little in quelling the heat that had ignited along the expanse of your skin. Everything feels too tight suddenly. This tiny cocktail you had slipped into, suddenly feels like a fucking torture chamber. Even your braids feel tight in their high ponytail. You need to get rid of it.

[18:03, Chenle] Open the door

You've already zipped the dress down when his notification flashes across your screen. Your feet are muted against the carpet as you open the door.

Your boyfriend stands on the other side of the threshold, dressed in his simple grey sweatpants and letterman jacket. A single gold chain glimmers from the fluorescents.

“We answer the door naked now?” He raises his eyebrows, hair damp with rain as he asses you in nothing but your lace underwear.

“Well I was undressing when you arrived-” Your words immediately drown under the weight of the kiss that Chenle crashes against your lips. He immediately crowds you by the doorway, pushing the door shut with his foot as he pushes you up against the wall, his tall frame hunching over yours. His hands greedily sink into your hips and his jaw is tight as he peppers kisses everywhere.

He kisses you desperately, and fervently, it barely registers when he's pulling away.

“Thought I told you to keep the dress on.” He's rubbing dizzying circles against your cheek as you look up at him with hazy eyes.

He wanted to fucking eat you alive.

“You were taking too long,” you pat his hand still firmly on your cheek, “Take your shoes off.” You lightly coax him out of his sneakers before smiling up at him with your lopsided swollen lips and smeared lipstick. Your hand interlocks into his as you lead him deeper into the apartment and he follows like a limp piece of skin, a helpless puppy with no sense of direction other than your safe navigation. “You have lipstick on your face,” You giggle before leading you both deeper into the hotel suite.

“I don't care-” Chenle says, before immediately setting his eyes on the myriad bags sitting idly in a corner. All sorts of labels were affirmed on the cardboard faces of each bag and Chenle looked back at you. You at least had the gall to appear sheepish, wrapping your arms around your exposed stomach like a child awaiting her scolding.

“Who possibly needs this many clothes?” There's a scolding edge to Chenle's voice as he shakes off his letterman jacket. He walks closer towards you. Your heart rate picks up as you avoid eye contact. Choosing instead to keep your gaze on Chenle's chest, which, almost far more harrowing, is being covered by a thin compression shirt. He looked borderline edible.

Your panties are drenched at the very sight of him.

The frown on Chenle's face is teasing, as he locks his hands behind his back, only waltzing closer and closer. His eyes narrow.

You're tripping backwards onto the bed, appearing even smaller underneath a looming, Chenle. He must be drunk.

You're tilting your head up at him, “How much did you and your friends have to dri-”

“Are you already wet?” That sentence alone allows you to conclude quite quickly that Chenle and his friend did, in fact, have a lot to drink. He licks his lips before descending on you until he's hovering slightly above you with his single chain dangling just above your head. There was no concrete way to deal with confident, drunk Chenle, you just sort of, had to take it all in stride until he was sober enough to be embarrassed about his forwardness.

You try to wiggle yourself out from under his frame but Chenle was already beginning to leave wet kisses on your neck, licking and sucking at the skin while producing the most obscene sounds known to man. He groans when he slots his hips between your steepeled legs. He lowers his hips to yours, dragging his clothed dick along the surface of your cunt and you moan involuntarily.

"Greedy, Greedy girl," he whispers, still burying his head between your neck as he humps against your clothed core. Your hips stutter upwards on their own accord, your jaw locked far too tight.

"Spending all my money like that-" he scolds, shaking his head in dismay.

"M'sorry," his snickers has your lips forming into a small pout.

"You're not sorry," his lips are inches from yours, "You're just gonna do it again-"

"-and again, and again..." you bio at his bottom lip, pulling it between your teeth.

Chenle's arms grow weak. "Shit-" he lets his hand slip between your legs as he continues with his face buried in your collarbone, exposing you to the fresh, oceanic scent of his shampoo as his lips begin to lick over your clothed breasts.

“I need you wet-” he mumbles, “Don't think I can waste time on foreplay tonight, pretty girl.”

You unconsciously lift your hips higher, immediately mystified by his ministrations. A slight gasp wrenches itself from your throat when your cunt meets his spindly fingers.

“Chenle-”

You're lying supine on the Clarifornia king bed and Chenle hovers above you. Fully clothed while you're almost naked. His hand is digging into the sheets beside your head as he hovers over you. Chenle's body acts as a great big shield, hiding you away from the city lights bleeding through the floor to ceiling windows.

“Condom,” you begin to say but your words are already escaping you and you're drifting off into fuzzy, foggy subspace. “Le- we needa-”

He shuts you up with a small peck on the lips, unbeknownst to you, he's already pulling his cock out and positioning the head right at your weeping entrance. “It'll be quick.” he says with a second kiss, “I'll pull out, I promise.��� He's already swiping away your panties, exposing your weeping cunt to the warm air.

“B-But you're intoxicated- holy fuck!” He slowly eases the head of his cock through your folds and the lubrication from both your arousal aids in making the process less painful but certainly not less uncomfortable. “F-Fuck-’

“I'm your boyfriend,” Chenle breathes out as he pushes his cock further in, “You're not exactly taking advantage of me.”

Unable to stop himself from slamming his cock in, Chenle winces at the tight grip your cunt has him in. He needed this so fucking badly. He needed your warmth, your presence. The world seemed completely and utterly meaningless when you were there to provide meaning for him.

“Fuck, you're so tight, you're so tight, so, so tight-”

You're a whimpering drooling mess underneath him, with your head rolled to the side, eyes half lidded in ecstasy as Chenle made avid use of your body with his deep strokes that only grew more and more rough. “Fucking, fuck-”

“J-Just like that, - please don't stop-'' your breath is knocked out of you the deeper he goes and the discomfort quickly bleeds into pleasure. A pleasure so profound you're arching your back for him, forcing his cock deeper. Chenle's grunts turn into a slew of tiny, pathetic whimpers and you unconsciously squeeze around him as he bullies his cock further and further into your soaking cunt.

“You're making such a big mess, you know that?” You could feel it. Your wetness was seeping into the linen underneath you and all you could do was whimper silently, bottom lip protruding as you took every bit of everything he had to give.

“Quick,” he keeps whispering in his light-as-a-feather voice, “Y-You want me to fill you up, huh?” Chenle's mind is completely clouded with lust and ruts into you deeper and deeper, his pelvis brushing against your puffy clit.

“You wanna sit here with my cum leaking out of your cunt baby-” You're gasping, trying to wriggle your torso up.

“Chenle! You said you wouldnt-”

“For the fantasy, baby,” he places a reassuring kiss against your lips before parting those lips as he hits a particularly deep spot inside. “I-Its for the fantasy baby, relax.” You're both breathing into each other’s mouth. The coldness of his chains hits your chin in intervals and you're both sure that you might die of overstimulation. “You're so much work, you know that? So much fucking work-”

“Chenle I'm gonna cum-” You could feel your orgasm wanting to snap and your words only spurred him on quicker, “Fuck, me too-”

“Oh God, you feel so good,” His eyes were squeezed shut, so completely lost in his own pleasure that he barely registered you slipping into your own orgasm. All Chenle could feel was your cunt tightening around him before he nearly spilled inside of you.

“Fuck! Oh- fuck-” Chenle's clumsily grabs ahold of his cock already spurting cum before he's milking the rest out over your stomach “Jesus- FUCK!” it was the loudest you ever heard him and your chest rises and falls as you watch Chenle make a complete mess of you as if you truly were nothing more than an object. His object

“F-Fuck,” Chenle slumps over beside you but not before dragging you in by his side. It's like he wanted to live in your skin.

“I can't believe you came inside me.”

“didn't mean it,” He says, before nuzzling into your neck, already drifting off to a land where you never ever left him, even for a moment.

[warpweighted]

melancholic longing CANCELLED the english national ballet has a recording to rent and it FUCKS

akram khan giselle my beloved... one day I will see her in full but for now I must content myself with cast interview youtube clips. anyways today I learned that myrta's entrance is her dragging giselle's corpse across the stage?? on POINTE??????

[icejjfishesz]

ꗃ dating paige...

she’d never admit to it...but she is clingy as fuck!! the only way i can rly describe it is indelibly tactile.

she kisses you all the time (holds your face tenderly afterwards, rubbing circles on your cheeks while she smiles at you), her head lives in the crook of your neck istg, kisses your tears away when u cry :/, her hands are forever interlocked with yours (or on/in between your thighs to "keep them warm"), will stand behind you and rest her chin on your shoulder, uses you as personal pillow and will lay on your (lap, stomach, ass), has fallen asleep on you too many times to count. 

can’t sleep without you

so if you aren’t already in bed by the time she goes to sleep she will drag you away from anything you’re doing to bring you to bed + if you wake up before (which you do like 60% of the time) she will not let you go until she’s awake (literally has a death grip). whines like a baby if you stop cuddling her

temperamental but hates arguing with you

it happens mainly over little shit cause she has kind of a quick temper but the love is always there. might say smth dumb she'll regret later but she'll make up for it later.

possessive idk

makes you wear her clothes (especially getting you to wear her jersey to games 😩😩). gets jealous so easily because you’re the object of her every affection and to her you are absolutely perfect, she thinks everyone else will think the same. gets you a necklace with the letter "p" on it for valentines and probably gets herself a necklace with your initial on it at the same time.

casual intimacy is her thingg 😩

showers/bathes with you any chance she gets (defo gets offended if you shower without her). will pout like a child (she's dramatic like that) if she comes home and sees you showered without her.

[ladysomething]

i swear my heart broke when i read this:

In a rage, he throws the necklace into the corner of the room, watching it flop down onto the ground. He shoves two fingers under the chain of his bracelet, ready to pull it off and let it have the same fate, but as he stares down at the interlocked circles, he just…

He can’t.

Instead, he twists his wrist around, fingers shaking terribly as he tries to undo the clasp. It takes him a few tries, but he gets it eventually, then pools the chain in his palm and holds it there while he goes to collect the necklace.

[…]

He hates Charles. No, that’s not true, it could never be true.

He hates himself.

me two weeks singing my silly little pop songs in the car and then suddenly being violently hit with the line “He hates Charles. No, that’s not true, it could never be true. He hates himself.”:

[thedeviltohisangel]

For A Fortnight There We Were (One Shot): It Fit Too Right

a/n: welcome to my all the things i did metaverse. please meet evelyn, a hollywood a-lister who falls in love with her co-star callum turner while filming masters of the air. this will most likely be a request based series so send them all in! would also love to flush out this relationship more with you guys through asks and chats. let me know what you think!!

He stood in the doorway of their hotel suite with a smile as he watched one person tug the corset of her gown tighter, another brush powder across her cheeks and a third place her hair over her shoulder in a meticulous manner. 

“I promise we’re almost done, baby.” 

“Don’t rush perfection on my account,” he said with a smile as he took a few steps into the room. “Let me help, love.” Callum grabbed the pair of heels from her stylist and dropped to one knee, Evelyn steadying herself on his shoulder as he slipped on one shoe and then the other. He kissed up her leg for good measure as she giggled, standing with a matching smile as she pulled him in for a kiss.

“People might get the wrong idea. You being on one knee like that.” In reality, he was just waiting for her to say she was ready and he’d be on one knee with a ring in hand in an instant. 

“The right idea you mean.” Evelyn blushed as her team began to filter out of the room. There was always a moment before every event that the two of them wanted time to themselves. They had gotten used to picking up the tempo for when it was arriving. “One day,” he followed up with a whisper. 

“One day. Soon.” He felt something blossom in his chest at her words. “Help me with my necklace?” The gold chain held a dainty C charm and fit perfectly snug around her neck as he clasped it securely.

“Gave you this necklace almost two years ago. So much has changed since then.” Yet so much had also stayed the same. They were still in each other’s orbit, circling the sun together and happy to live in this pattern for the rest of eternity. 

“And we finally get to show the world our love story.” Callum wrapped his arms around her from behind and they swayed gently to the song playing in his head. “Tracy told me there’s already stories lined up about the timeline of it all. About the overlap of still being legally married and filming the show and meeting you.” Her publicist warned her as soon as the premiere was scheduled that all the questions were going to get dragged up again. The accusations and the whispers of infidelity.

“I know the truth and you know the truth, Ev. That’s all that fucking matters.” The truth was that her marriage was a disaster the entire last year. The fights about his job and her job and fertility issues and the occasional bump of coke all mixing into a toxic sludge she was still working her way through years later.

“You’ll punch anyone who asks on the carpet or on the press tour?” She looked at him over her shoulder. 

“With a smile on my face,” Callum answered with a pucker of his lips. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Begrudgingly, she untangled herself from his arms and interlocked their fingers together in its place. He squeezed tight as they took the elevator down to the lobby with their security, her other hand wrapping around his wrist for two anchor points at the sight of the paparazzi waiting for them on the sidewalk. 

“Evelyn! Callum! Look to the left!

“To the right, guys, come on a little smile please!”

“Callum, how about a kiss?”

His hand landed on the small of her back as he helped her into the waiting SUV before sliding in next to her. Evelyn collapsed as the door shut. “Fucking brutal,” she muttered.

“I’m hoping they get what they want at the carpet and they can leave us alone when we get back tonight.” He reached for her hand and held it in his lap. “What are my lanes in the road for touching you tonight?” 

“Are you feeling particularly handsy tonight, Mr. Turner?” she asked with a smirk as he brought her hand to his lips and kissed across each knuckle. 

“That dress is an inspiration.” She leaned in with a giggle and kissed him square on the mouth. 

“Then make sure everyone there tonight knows that.” His eyebrows raised on their own accord. 

“Yeah? You mean that?” Normally, she was much more reserved. Making him settle for longing stares and soft, hidden smiles and subtle allusions to each other. She hid from all the attention and let her work speak for itself. 

“Maybe…maybe the part of me that always wants to hide should work on healing herself tonight.” It also had been a piece of homework from her therapist this week. 

“Okay. Okay, yeah, we’ll work on it tonight. Together.” 

“Together,” she reiterated as he kissed her hand again and then her lips. 

“You make me so happy. No matter what.” 

“You make me happiest,” she laughed as he buried his face in the crook of her neck and left a few kisses there. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

----

The ride was over all too quickly, the SUV idling at the start of the carpet and the sounds of muffled screaming and yelling reaching their ears instantly. Ever since their relationship had been made public, there had been attention on them like neither had ever experienced. 

She had been called a cheater, he had been called a social climber. Accusations of adultery and a months-long affair behind her husband’s back and questions on how valid Callum’s feelings could be as a less well-known star than her. Hell, Howard Stern had straight up asked her on his radio show how it felt to have power over the person she was in a relationship with when she had been so powerless previously. Callum certainly hadn’t taken kindly to the implication. 

Quarantine had been the perfect bubble for their love to take root and flourish. Had insulated them from the outside world as long as possible and allowed her walls to come down. They were built up so high after her failed marriage. Reinforced as her mind worked through the mental fuckery of falling in love with your co-star. Evelyn hadn’t known where she began and the character ended for the longest time but she knew in her heart she wanted to figure it out with him. 

The roar reached a fever pitch as Callum stepped out of the car, buttoned his jacket and waved to a group of fans on the side. He waited for her, watched her take a deep breath and square her shoulders before she took his outstretched hand and stepped out of the vehicle. 

Her movie star smiled flitted across her face easily as their fingers interlocked and her own hand raised in a wave before letting her boyfriend slot his lips against hers to the delight of the camera flashes. 

“Let’s do a couple autographs before interviews.” Her publicist gently pressed on the small of her back to guide in the direction of glossy photographs and posters and an endless sea of markers.

Evelyn smiled warmly as she let go of his hand and began to scrawl her name across various posters of her in Targaryen garb or an old military uniform or the occasional photo she had taken with a fan previously that they were now adding her penmanship to.

“Can I get a selfie?”

“Yeah of course!” She smiled with as many fans as she could and let them take a few photos to choose from before she was getting the signal it was time to keep it moving. “Thanks for coming!” Evelyn blew a few kisses to the crowd before Callum had her hand right back in his for the ensuing carpet walk. 

“Ev, you want to go first?” Tracy asked as she was beginning to urge her to the first photomark. She hit the X and did her best to look at the cameras like she wanted to fuck them. Those were normally the only shots that kept their hunger sated and kept from yelling too explicitly at her the rest of the night. 

She looked over her shoulder and watched Callum smile and show off his suit like it was second nature and she would be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to look at the photos later to see just how in love she was in this moment. He took her extended hand with a mischievous smile, falling in love all over again with this side of her that he knew well but she kept hidden from the outside world. 

“Let me get the two of you looking to the right!”

“Put your hands on her, mate!” “Look right at the camera with a smile, Evelyn!”

Callum furrowed his brow and wrapped his arm around her waist a little tighter as they kept fighting for a piece of them. They had both worked so hard to keep this one corner of their lives sacred and private but they couldn’t stay that way forever. Especially when they were trying to promote the show that brought them together in the first place. 

“You good?” he asked, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“Hold my hand the rest of the carpet?”

“Of course, love.” Their eyes stayed locked together as he kissed the back of her hand and they made their way towards the first interviewer. 

“It’s so good to see you guys again!”

“It’s good to see you too! It’s been a minute,” Evelyn replied.

“Last time I saw you, Callum, you were with George Clooney which is a hard interview companion to top-”

“Oh, I’ve done it. This one’s my companion for life.” She couldn’t help but blush at his forwardness. “This show brought so many beautiful people to my life and introduced me to this incredible story of these men and the sacrifices they made for us but I’ll never be able to articulate what meeting this woman and falling in love with her has done for me and the honor that has truly been.” 

“This is why my team is always trying to keep us separate in front of a microphone because we always get a little in our feels about each other.” Evelyn rested her cheek against his chest.

“Tell me about that. You guys film this show and feel some vibes and then the premiere gets delayed for two years. Does this add to the nervousness or does it add to the excitement?”

“Definitely both,” Evelyn teases, “the characters are real people, real heroes, so there is such a desire to make sure the story is told in the most accurate, thankful way. Part of making sure that happened was fully devoting ourselves to the relationship between these two and to discover something real in the process was a really happy accident.” Her hand rested on his cheek and he kissed her palm, looking at her like she was the only girl in the entire world. For him she was.

“We had the opportunity to meet their children and grandchildren which was such a blessing because on paper I was skeptical, it seemed written for the movies, but they had letters and pictures and stories that really showed these two loved each other in a magical way their entire lives.”

“And what’s next for you two? I hear rumors we may see you, Ms. Shaw, in a movie about sand and worms…” Evelyn laughed. 

“I hear Austin Butler loves worms so you should ask him. I know nothing about a movie with those themes.” She mimed sealing her lips and throwing away the key. The interviewer looked to Callum for help.

“Hey, I know even less than you do. This one’s a steel trap.” 

“Alright, I’m getting the signal that the most in demand people on this carpet tonight are needing to move along. Have the best night ever you two!” They both offered their thanks before a team of security and assistants collapsed ranks around them as they moved down the carpet. 

“How’d we do, Trace?” Callum asked as he swung their interlocked hands back and forth. 

“You were on your best behavior. Thank you.” Evelyn was a typical client for a publicist. Did good work and got high profile projects, never caused controversy in an interview but had some skeletons in her closet. Evelyn always did exactly as she asked and took her advice as gospel. Her boyfriend on the other hand was all boisterous and laughed and sang and had not a care in the world. He wanted to hold her and kiss and let the whole world know he was in love with her and scream it from the rooftops. 

“I see Mr. Butler!” Evelyn pointed directly ahead to the tall blonde man taking photos with Barry. “Oh, and Barry! I haven’t seen him recently enough to ask about bathwater.”

“Look who it is! My first and second wheel!” Austin lifted her up and spun her around before greeting Callum. “You two walking together?” While he was very familiar with their PDA behind closed doors, it was rare to see it out in the open. 

“This is as close to her accepting a proposal as I’m gonna get, mate.” Ev rolled her eyes and turned to get in between them for the row of photographers currently screaming at them. She is safe in between the two of them. Had needed every ounce of it when she had arrived on set all those years ago. 

She knew Callum had a ring tucked away somewhere safe. Knew he was dying with every passing day to make things between them official forever. She meant soon when she had said it earlier. 

Evelyn looked up at him as the camera continued to blind her and she tuned them out. She smiled and he smiled right back. “I love you,” he whispered so it existed just between the two of them. 

“I love you, too. So much.” 

Yes. Soon indeed.

[ragnarockz]

You know, guys, Maya isn't immune to beautiful women in control, and neither am I 😊🔒💛

I need to make a playlist for this fucker like, RIGHT NOW

She was tired of sucking everyone's dick at this party. Not literally of course; she couldn't stand the fucking thought of that.

She found herself a corner and leaned against it; a drink of something strong in her hand as she sipped with squinted eyes. These big Hollywood parties were always just an excuse to circle jerk one another for hours.

And not in the fun way.

Maya sighed, rolling her eyes as she downed the dark liquid in her glass. She could bail early technically, but that would mean possibly running into someone on her way out.

She was at an impasse.

"Maya?"

Oh fuck.

"Fuck off!"

She turned herself so that she was sideways against the wall; crushing her left shoulder. Fuck these annoying motherfuckers. She thought she was doing a good job being out of the way.

"I thought that was you... you want me to get you another drink?"

Maya's head snapped to the side in the direction of the voice. Her eyes found the source, and when it did register, her mouth slightly opened.

She had never seen this woman before. Tall, handsome. Power coursing through her just in the way she stood, the way she had commanded her voice earlier. The way she held her drink with a firm grip; short nails.

"Sure, yeah...I'll let you get me a drink..."

Maya sniffed as she tossed her hair back and peeled away from the wall. She had done it in one single brain down her back and woven in strands of gold colored silk threads. You could only see them if the light caught it a certain way.

She watched the woman nod, and a tiny smile spread across her dark, painted lips. A shiver ran down Maya's spine as she took a step closer. This woman was pulling her in with just her smile; just a taste of what could possibly come if she jumped in feet first.

"Then let's go get our drinks, honey..."

The woman reached out with her free hand to grab Maya's. Interlocking fingers for a split second before letting go to simply grab her wrist. Maya thought she was going to swallow her tongue as she woman pushed her way through the throngs of people with Maya following behind. Maybe it was the alcohol or the bump she had done with Sal earlier, but it felt like her high-heeled feet weren't even touching the ground.

They found the waitress with the drink tray and swiped two for themselves before pushing through more people; basically maneuvering through the house until the woman led Maya to a hallway that was empty. She quickly led her into a semi-opened door, pushing her way inside until they were both in. She let go of Maya's hand and moved slightly, grabbing the door handle to close and lock it behind them.

The bathroom was spacious enough; nothing over the top as it was just a bathroom on the main floor. But it was clean and comfortable and the countertop was big and long enough for-

"You're thinking of fucking me, aren't you?"

The handsome woman smirked as she raised her glass to her mouth and downed the drink in one go. She placed the glass on the countertop and stared pointedly at Maya.

"What? Are you fucking- how the fuck did you even know who I was?!"

Maya followed suit, downing her own drink and sliding it across the counter. Hands on hips, she tried to make herself appear bigger, intimidating. She had paired her braid and heels with a dark brown sweater dress; cinched at the waist with a chunk belt. Gold jewelry covered every inch of herself as she could; including her favorite lock chain necklace she always wore no matter what outfit.

The woman eyed her up and down like she was the next thing she was going to down into her mouth.

Maya felt herself flush in the face.

"I've been following your work for some time... you got balls, Ms. Mason... you sure as shit know what you're doing in this industry..."

Maya licked her lips and nodded slightly at the praise; could basically feel her metaphorical cock get hard. This woman was basically hitting all the right buttons thus far.

"Right so, you track me down at a lame ass party to grab me a top up and throw me into a bathroom to praise me? Is that it, sweetheart?"

Sarcasm dripped from Maya's lips at an attempt to throw the woman off. She thought she had the upper hand.

Until she didn't.

Fingers hooked under Maya's belt to pull her close, push her against the countertop until her ass hit the edge of it, and the back of her heels collided with the base of the cupboards. She gasped loudly as she felt the woman's hands unhook and travel up to squeeze her breasts through her dress. What the fuck was happening?!

But she didn't ask it out loud or stomp on the woman's feet with her heels. She didn't push her away or headbutt her. Maya placed her hands back to grip the edge of the countertop so she could lift herself up and take a seat.

She heard the woman hum; something low and sweet and desperate, as she grabbed the bottom of Maya's dress. She pulled it up to that it gathered in her lap.

"Do you always attend these parties without underwear on?"

Smug, in control. The woman's eyes flicked up to tease Maya before looking back down. She breathed in deeply before sinking to her knees onto the cool tiled floor. Maya held her breath and felt her head swimming.

"Maybe I should fucking start if I knew someone like you was going to be here..."

The woman smirked as she moved her hands up to spread Maya's legs for her; enjoying the heat of her skin on her fingers. Maya shuddered as she gripped the edge a little tighter, bracing herself.

Beautiful and hard and soft; the woman expertly flattened her tongue and made a solid lick from the bottom up. Pointed tongue she pressed just ever so gently onto Maya's clit which, pretty much sent her into orbit. Fingers digging into the marble countertop; knuckles matching the colour. A string of every curse she could muster flew from her mouth and made the woman laugh between her legs.

"Should have been a sailor, honey..."

"Just...fucking...keep going..."

She barely managed to get out of her mouth as that goddamn sweet tongue started to circle her clit. It was dangerous, the sensation, something she could end up craving more than money and clout and addictive substances. This was something more serious than all of that combined.

"Oh...fuck...holy-"

She let her words hang as she did her head; braid snaking down her back and the end on the countertop. The circles got tighter, smaller. They got more direct and pointed. Tip meeting tip, pressure pushing harder until she felt like she was going to burst. Sparks melting inside of her stomach and the promise of coming undone.

That was, until the woman unexpectedly pushed two warm fingers in past Maya's folds and curled up inside of her pussy.

She felt herself choke from the sensation of someone else's fingers inside of her, and a burning desire sparked in the bottom of her abdomen. She wanted to be completely used up; completely taken over. Fuck what she thought before about this lame ass party. She was getting fucked by a beautiful woman in a bathroom with her fingers up inside of her.

"That's it, honey... you got this... look how bad you want this..."

Dripping like syrup, the woman's words fell as she pumped her fingers in a precise rhythm. She had done this before, Maya realized before the murkiness of lust filled her brain, and she was perfected at it.

A low daring moan dropped from Maya's mouth; opening herself to this unknown woman between her legs. She never, if rarely, let someone get this close. Something about her. Something about her attitude.

"That's it, sweet thing...it's like your pussy was made for my fingers..."

More syrup. More honey. More praise.

Another low moan that changed pitch halfway through as Maya herself tried to push her hips forward greedily. She wanted, no, needed more. The woman chuckled warmly as she bent her fingers a little more and held. The pressure was unmistakable; undignified.

She was going to push Maya over the edge on purpose, and it was something Maya, quickly welcomed.

She allowed her muscles to go slack and her head to snap forward, chin to chest as she gave the woman a little pathetic whimper before she felt the hot and sweet rush inside of herself.

The woman hummed again, low and sweet and approving as her perfect guided hands came to a slow. They were soaked as they slowly came out; teasing their way up once more through the hair and a single, playful swipe at Maya's engorged clit.

She shivered and sucked in a sharp breath as her head swam. She could sense the woman standing and just inches away from her face now. The silence between them palpable.

She felt a tug at her neck, which made her slowly open her eyes and come back to reality.

The fingers that were just inside of her were now hooked around her necklace with the lock resting in the woman's palm of her hand. Maya moaned softly; her eyes daring to meet.

"We should go get another drink...come on...I'll lead the way..."

She yanked gently on the chain so that Maya had to push herself off of the counter. Legs wobbly, she cursed herself for wearing fucking heels tonight. Her dress dropped down itself, and she could feel the tiny section of it stick at her skin; clinging to the fresh wetness. She moaned again and watched the woman's eyebrows lift on her gorgeous face.

"Do you need a minute, or are you gonna be out there moaning for everyone to hear?"

Maya slowly shook her head and bit her lip as she watched the solid single nod of approval.

She was still being led by her own necklace as the bathroom door was unlocked and pushed open. Guided back to the party with fingers hooked up under her chain and a curious tug at her heart. She couldn't dismiss the throbbing between her legs, either.

The smirk on Maya's face was plastered; doubted it was ever going to come off soon. At least, she thought, not for the rest of the night.

[shokorohandmade]

Shokoro's Circle Necklace Jewelry Collection, New Interlocking Circle Necklace with Three Circles

A Circle is never apart. It is a reflection of your story. A symbol of everlasting and unbreakable love between family members, friends and soulmates

It is thoughtful jewelry gift for someone special.

Visit us to find more about our Jewelry with meaning behind it

Website: Shokoro Handmade (Dainty Jewelry Brand Canada) https://www.shokorohandmade.com/

Shoko’s Blog: Subscribe to receive shokoro's blog 

( topic: Gemstone. Jewelry, Fashion, Life Style, Chakra stone, Angel Number…)

Etsy Store: Shokoro Design

https://www.etsy.com/ca/shop/ShokoroDesign

Etsy Genuine Natural Gemstone Jewelry Store: From Earth by Shokoro

https://www.etsy.com/ca/shop/FromEarthByShokoro

shokoro_ca 

https://www.instagram.com/shokoro_ca/

Facebook

[vanscoy-diamonds]

Discover Stunning Diamond Necklaces and Pendants

Diamonds are timeless, and when it comes to necklaces and pendants, they add an unmatched elegance to any outfit. If you're looking for a diamond chain pendant set or a diamond interlocking circle necklace, Vanscoy Diamonds has an exquisite collection that will leave you mesmerized. In this blog, we'll explore the beauty and craftsmanship of these pieces and why Vanscoy Diamonds is the best place to find them.

Why Choose a Diamond Chain Pendant Set?

Timeless Elegance A diamond chain pendant set is the epitome of sophistication and elegance. It can be worn with both casual and formal attire, adding a touch of glamour to any look. At Vanscoy Diamonds, you'll find a variety of designs that cater to different tastes and preferences.

Versatility One of the greatest advantages of a diamond chain pendant set is its versatility. Whether you’re dressing up for a special occasion or adding a bit of sparkle to your everyday wear, these sets are perfect for any event.

Investment in Quality When you purchase a diamond chain pendant set from Vanscoy Diamonds, you are investing in quality. Each piece is meticulously crafted using the finest diamonds and materials, ensuring that your jewelry will stand the test of time.

The Charm of a Diamond Interlocking Circle Necklace

Symbolism A diamond interlocking circle necklace carries deep symbolism. The interlocking circles represent unity, eternity, and the endless nature of love. It's a meaningful piece that makes for a perfect gift for a loved one.

Unique Design The design of a diamond interlocking circle necklace is both modern and timeless. It adds a unique flair to any jewelry collection. Vanscoy Diamonds offers stunning options that highlight the beauty and craftsmanship of this design.

Perfect for Layering This necklace is also ideal for layering with other pieces. Whether you choose to wear it alone or pair it with other necklaces, a diamond interlocking circle necklace will enhance your look effortlessly.

Explore the Collection at Vanscoy Diamonds

Wide Range of Designs Vanscoy Diamonds boasts a diverse collection of diamond chain pendant sets and diamond interlocking circle necklaces. Their website, Vanscoy Diamonds, showcases an array of options that cater to different styles and preferences.

Customization Options If you have a specific design in mind, Vanscoy Diamonds offers customization services. Work with their expert jewelers to create a piece that is uniquely yours. This service ensures that you get exactly what you envision.

Exceptional Craftsmanship The craftsmanship at Vanscoy Diamonds is second to none. Each piece is created with precision and attention to detail, ensuring that every diamond is perfectly set and every design is flawlessly executed.

Caring for Your Diamond Jewelry

Regular Cleaning To maintain the sparkle of your diamond chain pendant set and diamond interlocking circle necklace, it’s essential to clean them regularly. Use a soft brush and mild soapy water to gently clean your jewelry.

Proper Storage Store your diamond jewelry in a soft pouch or a jewelry box to prevent scratches and damage. Keeping them in a dry place also helps maintain their brilliance.

Professional Maintenance Periodically, have your diamond jewelry inspected and maintained by a professional jeweler. Vanscoy Diamonds offers maintenance services to ensure that your jewelry remains in pristine condition.

Conclusion 

When it comes to finding the perfect diamond chain pendant set or diamond interlocking circle necklace, Vanscoy Diamonds is your go-to destination. Their extensive collection, exceptional craftsmanship, and commitment to quality make them the ideal choice for all your diamond jewelry needs. Visit their website, Vanscoy Diamonds, to explore their stunning pieces and add a touch of elegance to your jewelry collection.

[domesticatedford]

Charades: a Good Ending story!

Features H Ford and Scalene, by @alexthebordercollie

D knew he was a hindrance when it came to games that involved acting. It always made him feel terribly self-conscious to be the center of attention (stared at; that was the part that felt really awful) while he moved in ways that always came out as stiff and unnatural. That, or he froze up entirely while he was trying to think of what he should do or say. He supposed it was fair, then, that he be on H’s team when it came to games that involved the skill. The man was a natural thespian. Well, he was a conditioned one, but either way, he was very good.

Scalene, who was standing in the middle of a half-circle of couches and cushioned chairs, had the same talents. She had already won her team of herself and H’s Stanley several points in their current game of charades; the 08 version, as H's Stanley had won that argument with D's own brother. Every time they played such games during family game night, she always acted her little heart out (despite her half-eucluydian origin, she did, in fact, have a heart. D had seen scans of it!) This round, though, he had no idea what he was supposed to be guessing. Scalene, banned from using her shapeshifting abilities, poked her forefingers up on either side of her “head.”

“Horns?” D’s Stanley guessed.

“Ears,” Jean-Paul said. Scalene gave the polymorph a thumbs up before moving on. She stood straight, one foot slightly out, and gesticulated as if she was speaking animatedly.

“Mmm… eloquence?” D guessed. Scalene half-raised her eyebrow and gave him a shrug. A few more incorrect guesses were made before the scarlet half-alien slouched in a defeated gesture and moved on. She trotted over to D’s leg and hugged it.

“Oh!” D’s quiet exclamation had scarcely left his lips before Scalene pulled away and, with as stately of an expression as her limited face could manage, patted his knee.

“A parent?” H’s Stanley said to himself, even though he really wasn't meant to be guessing.

“Pity sex?” D’s Stanley mumbled. D could only just hear him from his position on the nearby chair.

Scalene rolled her eye and stomped a small foot, the sound muffled by a large, soft rug that D had found at an estate sale on 78’\\ Earth. H had decided it belonged in this room, rather than in D's undersized kitchenette, where he kept spilling things on it and tripping on the folded-over corners. Scalene jabbed a finger at Jean-Paul, who was sitting on the couch between D and H.

“Jean-Paul?” D guessed at the same time H and Oleander said “raccoon.” Scalene gave an excited little hop.

“Yeah, yeah, raccoon! Ding, point!!” She spun in an excited pirouette. Jean-Paul gave a good-humored snort.

“That's not what actual raccoons act like,” he said.

“You're the only raccoon I know,” she said.

“It's your turn, Dr. Pines,” Oleander said. D dug his fingers into his sweater vest.

“Um… does it have to be?” He studied the interlocking vine pattern that rimmed the rug. “I, ah, don't mind if you skip me.”

“Hey, no sweat,” D’s Stanley said. The words had barely left his mouth when Oleander spoke up.

“I'd like you to participate if you feel up to it,” she said. “I know it can be uncomfortable, but do try to remember that there are no consequences for anything you do here. Performing well isn't material to the experience.” Her lips curved in a small smile. “Besides, I'm sure your loved ones would enjoy having you play.” D's Stanley leaned forward, patterned shirt bunching at his shoulders.

“He doesn't have to take his turn if he doesn't want to,” he said, voice firmer. D found his necklace in his hands, thumb and forefinger tracing the engraved pendant. Jean-Paul touched his leg.

“It’s your decision, Phospho,” he said. “Not your anxiety’s.”

D’s frown deepened. Jean-Paul’s voice was softer than usual, and his ears were angled slightly back.

“J-Jean-Paul, are you… ah!” Twelve small fingers had wrapped around his hand, and were attempting to pull him out of his seat.

“You have to play, Uncle D!” Scalene demanded. Her tap shoes scrabbled against the rug. She wasn’t very strong.

“I… I don’t know…” D mumbled. Scalene hopped up onto his lap and balled her hands together.

“Pleeeeeeeease?” She whined sweetly, blinking at him. Her eye actually grew larger, its brown iris literally sparkling.

“Stop with that,” H snapped. He paused for a moment, fingers curling in his lap, narrow chest expanding as he took in a long, slow breath. “He’ll play if he wants to. Stop being manipulative.”

“That’s rich,” D’s Stanley snorted. H’s shoulders stiffened.

“I wouldn’t say a low-rent con man has room to speak on the matter.” Stan’s jaw flexed.

“At least-“

“Ah, I, um, I’ll take my turn!!” D scooped Scalene into his arms as he stood. She giggled. He felt a bit lightheaded. The old man strode to the “stage.” Was he breathing too fast? He held Scalene out to the disused plastic bin from Oleander’s office (it had been thoroughly disinfected,) which was filled with thin slips of paper. “P-please pick one out for me.” Scalene gave a smart little salute and shuffled the disorganized pile of papers with broad swipes of her hands. Kids liked feeling involved in things.

Scalene tugged a slip free from the box with a flourish and held it out for D. He thanked her and set her down. She trotted back to H’s Stanley and hopped into his lap, hands drumming her knees. A flash of something between sadness, annoyance, and envy crossed H’s face before it was suppressed. D’s brow furrowed, free hand clawing at his top as he read his fate.

Ford Cipher.

D closed his eyes and took in several long, slow breaths. This was good. He knew H very, very well. D’s furrowed brow smoothed as he pictured H. His mannerisms. He didn’t have to think about himself. Just think about H. Replicate him.

On an exhale, D’s posture relaxed. The pose he settled into wasn’t sloppy, though; it was confident and loose. He opened one eye. Leaning slightly, D propped his hand against an end table, supporting his weight (H had a tendency to lean against furniture when standing for too long without his cane.) The other hand went to his hip, fingers crooked delicately. He put on a self-superior smile.

With a barely-perceptible grin, H rolled his eye. He must have already guessed what D was doing. The pair had a knack for picking up on each other's intentions. It was part of why they weren’t allowed to guess for each other in games like charades.

“Haughty waiter?” H’s Stanley asked.

“Bisexual,” D’s own guessed.

“Haughty, bisexual waiter!” The former said with a grin.

“Hot,” the latter agreed.

“Please try to make actual guesses, Mr. Pines,” Oleander sighed. “Who would put that in as a…” she paused to look between the two Stans. “… Never mind.”

A snap of the fingers brought their attention back to D. He looked down his nose at them as if they were dim-witted, impulsive children who didn’t know how to stay on topic. He crossed his arms, shoulders square, and cocked his hip (which was a bit uncomfortable,) looking away as if he couldn’t be bothered to acknowledge their presence further. D mimed checking a pocket watch.

“Train conductor!” Scalene cried, throwing her arms up.

“Fruity train conductor,” D’s Stanley said.

“Fruity bisexual train conductor,” H’s Stan added.

“Not everyone is bisexual,” Oleander observed.

“You only say that ‘cause you’re the one straight person on this compound,” D’s Stan said. Oleander’s expression tightened minimally.

“I’m going to be on my own team next time.”

D’s confident stride took him back to the couch where H and Jean-Paul were waiting. D made a small shooing gesture with his hand, which Jean-Paul picked up on and scooted over. With an audible thump, D plopped down beside H. He pulled his leg up to cross at the knee and threw an arm around H’s shoulders. A quick tug and the frail old man was pressed against his side. H's nose wrinkled, and his smile showed more teeth.

“Very cute,” H said. He looked at the other teams. “You can speak up now.”

“We have been, but I guess we're not getting it,” H's Stan said.

“Act harder, Uncle D!” Scalene demanded, kicking out her feet. D's hand slid from H's shoulder to his waist. 

“You have to know what he's doing,” H argued. “He's-”

A quick pull, and H was sitting on D's lap. The emperor's mouth snapped shut. D ran his fingers through H's fine, pale hair.

“Oh, you're being Dr. Cipher,” Oleander said.

“Yes!” D wrapped his arms around H in earnest, finished with the act. He pressed his cheek against H's from behind. He'd actually managed to act something out without becoming too embarrassed or overwhelmed and giving up! Jean-Paul bared his teeth in an exaggerated grin (he'd learned to modify his expressions in his raccoon form to be more easily readable to humans.)

“Good for you, Phospho!”

“Yeah, Bro, great job!” D’s Stan cheered. Scalene clapped and whooped. D giggled quietly and nuzzled his face against H's. He squeezed his eyes shut, his cheeks heating. Ah, this felt wonderful! He'd done so well. Everyone was so proud of him!

“Let me up, please, D,” H said quietly. “I just remembered something I need to do rather urgently.” H pushed forward, and D released him.

“Ah… what…?” D began. H always cleared his schedule for family game night. Spending time with Scalene was so important to him, especially in calm, controlled environments like this.

“Nothing. Just work,” H said. His voice and posture were stiff. H leaned heavily on his cane as he walked the short distance to where his wheelchair was parked. D watched him as he left, wheeling out into the bright, sterile compound hall. Scalene waved at his back with a “bye, Daddy!”

“D-do you think he's… um… is he okay?” D asked. He picked at the couch's arm. There were patches of exposed material between the leather from where he'd done so before.

“He hasn't been okay since I've known him,” Jean-Paul said.

“I'm sure it's just one of his moods,” H's Stanley said with a shrug. A thin, soft scrap of leather fluttered to the floor.

“I, um… I'm gonna go after him…” D looked back to the others in the circle of chairs. “I-is that okay?” D’s brother inhaled, but Oleander cut him off.

“You can leave whenever you'd like.” D nodded with a throaty little hum.

The door to H’s suite was locked. That wasn't concerning on its own. H had a habit of locking his doors. It wasn't one D shared, but he understood it. At least, he thought he did. D rapped his knuckles against the entrance. H could always tell when it was him knocking. Something about the way he did it.

“I'm busy.” H's voice sounded strained. D felt a painful tightness in his chest. It was rare for H to refuse his company; doubly so without a proper explanation. He clearly needed some time alone. D understood that.

… But he couldn't help but worry.

H didn't come out for dinner. D wanted to drag him out… he knew how to pick the lock… but, no, he couldn't do that. H would be unhappy. More so than he already was. Besides, H wasn't always in the mood to eat at the proper time. D waited a couple hours before returning to H’s door with a bowl in hand. It was a late-night snack; the kind D brought H when he didn't have dinner for one reason or another. D bent his knee to tap his toes absently against the ground as he knocked.

“I'm still busy,” came H's reply. “Go to bed.” D stepped back and gave a small, involuntary whine. H's voice sounded hard. He didn't sound like he felt any better at all.

D leaned his back against the wall, drumming his fingers against the bowl. He waited. He didn't know how long he stood there, but it seemed to be quite some time. He shifted his weight uncomfortably. Stared at the far wall. Some time ago, D had painted a large tangle of unusual plants on it; something pleasant for H to look at when he woke up. D had initially wanted to incorporate a clock into the design before realizing that H probably wouldn't like looking at a clock face that never moved.

D heaved a worried sigh. He didn't want to leave, and H didn't want to be disturbed. Back still against the wall, he lowered himself to the floor, lips pressing flat at the ache in his joints. He continued to wait, legs splayed out in front of him, still drumming the bowl. D only realized he was sleepy when he blinked awake at the feeling of falling. He looked up at the door. Still closed. A worried sigh puffed through his nose. With a small klunk, he set the bowl on the ground and laid down, curling on his side. It was an uncomfortably familiar position. There wasn't any sort of bed or couch here, though, and D could handle sleeping on the floor. He wanted to be here when H decided to come out.

D was wrenched into wakefulness by a hand on his shoulder, shaking him.

“What the hell are you doing down there?!” H demanded. D blinked bleary eyes. Something prickly and uncomfortable settled in his head, but he was too groggy to name it.

“Worried,” D croaked. H hissed out a breath and tugged his double into a sitting position.

“I'm fine,” H said.

“You're not,” D whined. He plopped his head onto H’s arm. The emperor's mouth twitched. He reached over from where he was squatting (D envied how flexible he still was) and picked up the bowl.

“What's this?” He asked.

“Brought it last night,” D explained. “You didn't eat dinner.” H's brow pinched, his eye wide.

“You've been out here all night?”

D nodded.

“All right, up you get,” H said brusquely. He grabbed D’s arms and pulled. It wasn’t like things used to be, when H could lift him easily. Or at all. He provided a helpful support, though, and D heaved himself to his feet.

“Are you feeling any better?” D asked. H huffed and hooked a finger around D’s necklace, leading him into his suite by it. He guided D to his kitchenette and pulled out the single chair that had a permanent place beside a narrow, gray table. A thin finger tapped it, the blackened mark atop the knuckle distorting. D sat and stared up at H. His mind was beginning to clear.

“I told you not to sleep on the floor,” H scolded. He lowered himself into his wheelchair, which he’d left by the door, and moved back into the kitchenette. The low rolling sound was barely audible, even in such a small, quiet space, but D had grown quite fond of it. “It’s bad for your back. We’ve been over this.” H popped the meal D had brought for him last night in the microwave; it was flush with a set of cabinets, rather than set further back on the countertop, so that H could reach it easily while in his chair. D fidgeted with his hands while a gentle hum filled the room. He wondered what note that was. He was out of practice when it came to music, but H would certainly be able to identify it.

“Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if your shoulder and hip are paying the price for you waiting outside my door all night like a lost little kitten,” H grumbled. D hummed without realizing it. H was right. D looked down and scratched his nails lightly against the table. H retrieved D’s offering and rolled to the other side of the table, across from D.

“… Say something,” he said at length. His voice had softened. It was almost pleading. D looked up at him.

“What happened last night?” D asked. “Um, why were you upset?” H stiffened. He was suddenly very interested in the food D had brought him. Noodles (they would be soggy by now) with plenty of vegetables, in a peanut sauce. H took a bite, then screwed up his face.

“Who made this?” H asked.

“Dr. Oleander,” D replied with a smile. She didn’t cook often, but when she did, it was terribly healthy. D liked all food that wasn’t raw meat or fish, but he really was a fan of her cooking. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed vegetables until he regained access to them. H clearly had a different opinion.

“I figured,��� he sniffed. “You would never prepare something so sub-par for me.”

“Dr. Oleander is a wonderful cook!” D protested, glaring at his friend.

“You are an endless font of kindness and poor judgement,” H cooed.

“No, she-!”

D closed his mouth. H was trying to distract him, wasn’t he? D scratched the back of his hand.

“P-please talk to me about last night,” he said, looking H in the eye. Its brown hue somehow looked so much richer than his own. “I was worried.” H looked down at his noodles and poked at them with his fork.

“You know how I am,” he muttered. “Moody. I’m sure Stan said something along those lines after I left.” D pressed the side of an index finger against his lower lip as he observed H.

“I’m prone to uncontrolled bouts of rage,” he said. “You, and the others, help me figure out why they happen, so we can try to avoid triggering them in the future.” He lightly bit his skin. “Um, it doesn’t always work, but I think it helps. I-it might not be the same emotions, but I’d like to do the same for you.”

H stared back at D. His eye was wide, jaw tense. He was very still. D bit his finger harder, though it barely registered. "I wasn't angry..." H mumbled, taking another bite of peanut-coated broccoli. He tapped his fork lightly against his bowl while he chewed, refusing eye contact. "I'm just not used to you..." He looked back at D and gestured vaguely to him with his fork. "You aren't usually so… forward."

D tilted his head. He wasn’t really sure what H was trying to say.

“My acting? Um, d-did I offend you?” H flushed slightly and looked away.

"N-no, no, that’s not it. It’s… I know you weren't trying to- I, this is on me.” He dropped his fork and scrubbed a hand over his face, skewing his glasses. “I was... it would have been inappropriate for me to stay."

“I… I’m sorry, I don’t understand,” D said quietly. His shoulders drooped, hands clasped over his chest. He really, really wanted to understand. He wanted to help. H’s blush deepened. His hand clasped over his mouth, fingers deforming his thin, aged skin. “I… you were attractive. In a way I wasn’t used to. I was… reacting.”

D blinked. Him? Attractive? That felt… incorrect. But H had complimented D’s appearance before (he really was very nice,) so D didn’t see why this was any…

His cheeks heated as he realized what H was really saying.

“Oh,” he said. “That… I… um.” D really, really didn’t know what to say. No one had ever found him attractive before; certainly not like that. It felt incongruous with reality. H hunched like he was melting into his shoulders. He was looking anywhere but at D.

“I’m sorry,” H rasped. He winced, as if the words themselves were painful. “I didn’t want to let you know. Let anyone know. It’s not your fault that I’m disgusting.”

“Y-you’re not disgusting!” D insisted. H shook his head, fast and tight. The red star on his necklace jostled.

“Stop,” he said. “You don't have to tolerate this. I know it repulses you, you can say it. The last thing I would ever want is for you to feel like you-” H balled his fists atop the table. His knuckles were white around the black ink of his tattoos. “You didn’t mean to- you didn’t do anything wrong. It was me. I took something perfectly normal and pleasant and ruined it.” He dropped his head into his hands. “Fuck. It was around our family. Around my fucking daughter. I’m disgusting.”

“Don’t say that,” D snapped. H let out a hollow laugh.

“It’s true.” D grimaced.

“People have seen me as disgusting for years.”

H’s head snapped up.

“You’re not,” the former god said, his voice strained. D tilted his head.

“Really? I was constantly dirty and smelled terrible. I never changed my clothes and ate rotten food out of the trash. I carried dead animals in my pockets and gave them to people because I thought that’s what you did when you liked someone.”

“You aren’t like that anymore,” H insisted. “You got better.” D frowned, his brow pinching.

“Not really. I only wash and groom myself when there’s someone around to make sure I do. I still take food out of the trash if I think it looks good. If it weren’t for Jean-Paul, I would still be wearing the same clothes I was a week ago. I didn’t just… get over those things.”

“I don’t judge you for that,” H said. “I never have.” He had the same tone of voice he did when he was trying to refute a negative remark D made about himself. D supposed he was, but this wasn’t a simple exercise in self-flagellation on his own part.

“I know,” D said. “All you’ve ever done is help me. Even when I was, I think it’s fair to say, objectively disgusting, you never saw it as a mark against my character. Please understand that I feel the same way about you.” D leaned back in his seat. “Not that you actually are gross. You experienced a biological impulse that you didn’t even act on. That says nothing about your moral character. But I know you’re going to convince yourself that you are again, even if I can reassure you in the moment.” D clasped his hands atop the table, brushing a thumb over his knuckles. “Um, you care for me, so please remember to use this comparison when your thoughts get away from you. Hopefully, it will help you remember that there is no reasonable basis for such a poor self-evaluation.”

H was silent. He stared at D. D's chest tightened as the seconds slipped by.

“Um… did I, ah… did I say something wrong…?” H opened his mouth, then closed it again. He worked his jaw, eye boring into D with an intense expression. D fidgeted.

“I… I’m sorry if I…” H waved a hand jerkily, twitching his fingers.

“No,” he said. “No, Kitten, you did nothing wrong.” He reached across the table and took D’s hands in his own. They felt cool, soft, and delicate. D’s friend, his dearest one, reached up and pulled D’s head down. He then leaned forward so their foreheads touched. His hand trailed down D’s face, resting on his cheek, rubbing the stubbly skin softly with his thumb. D wrapped his fingers around H’s hand, massaging his wrist. He closed his eyes and let himself relax.

[mxtantrights]

Bounded by shadow and blood (18)

azriel x magic!fem!reader

Kynas walks up the steps to Dias. No one in the crowd reacts. He really had them under his control, which was scary. Controlling that much blood at once is not easy and it takes its toll. 

You wonder if that is also why he looks so close to death, or if it’s the other powers running through him. How’d he do that?

“How did you get like this?” You ask.

He smiles at you from your brother’s side. 

“Does my darling wife want to nurse me back to health? That’s sweet.” He snarls.

You wanted to buy time. Amren could have gotten the message but maybe she needed time to get here. And if the wards are down then the whole inner circle could help her. Not that they would help you, but if they knew the shadow singer was in trouble you have no doubt they would do all they could and more.

Your eyes waver over to the man in question. He looks stone cold. And he’s looking right at you. His face isn’t giving anything away. Not even the pain that he’s feeling because of Kynas. 

He really should have left as soon as he got here. 

“Well I think you should at least wear something more appropriate to my throne ceremony.” Kynas says.

You look at him wildly at that. So he did want the throne. Why? Sure power is one of the greatest loves of his life—you never quite made the list. But there were so many ways to get to the throne, why this way?

While you’re not paying attention, your outfit changes. You don’t feel it. Not at first. It’s not until the red sleeves cover your arms that you get it.

You weren’t wearing the clothes from before. Now you were in a red dress. One of the dresses that Kynas had picked out for you to wear at the wedding ceremony. One of the dresses you passed on—and pissed him off.

It was barely a dress. A deep cut down the middle of your chest, only strings to cover your back. The only thing you liked about the dress was the long trail that faded from red to black. 

You reach up to touch your ears. Earrings. And your hand roams down to your neck, a blood pearl necklace no doubt. His favorite. 

“You always wanted me to be docile and obedient but this is a new low.” You bark.

Kynas laughs at that, “No the low would be you giving out your blood to a fae. A lower born fae at that!”

“Who cares?!” You shout back.

At your words Kynas’ eyes shine with amusement. You go slack. Your body temperature rising quickly. You focus on keeping control of your own blood.

“I take it the bastard doesn’t know that its sacred to give blood?” Kynas asks.

“Kynas—“ you start.

But he turns right to the shadow singer. Azriel looks him in the eyes.

“You performed a marriage ritual, did your friend tell you that?” Kynas asks him.

But of course he can’t answer. Azriel struggles against his hold but he can’t break it. You are silently praying for Amren to show up. Or Cassian. Or Morrigan. Maybe even Rhysand. Hell, even Nesta would do at this point.

“I took down the wards, I’m wearing this stupid dress, what more do you want?” You ask, trying to take his attention away from Azriel.

Kynas looks back at you now. He interlocks his fingers together. Menace. Coward. Idiot. 

“I want you to kneel.” He says.

But he’s not commanding or forcing you to do it. You feel his hold on you release. The temperature in your body going back down, ever so slowly even if you feel like you’re on fire from rage.

“Don’t you…dare kneel to him.” Your brother says in between puffs of air.

You look at how he’s struggling. His eyes are turning red. His whole body is trembling. You want to run to him but you can’t. You know that as soon as you do Kynas will do something.

Kynas growls and sends your brother flying down the steps. He rolls and rolls until he lands flat on his stomach. You gasp and take a step closer but as soon as you do, a heavy blood blade forms. The red sword now pointed behind your brother’s skull.

“You will kneel!” Kynas shouts.

You can see your brother resisting. He’s shaking violently now. 

A voice from behind you calls your name. You recognize it as Amren’s voice. You hear other footsteps behind her. You can’t turn back to see them. The shadow on your wrist warms. 

You cannot give your back to Kynas, not when he holds your brother’s life in his hands.

“Never!” Your brother shouts back.

It happens in a matter of seconds, though it feels like eternity. You watch as your brother smiles at you one last time. No matter how forced it looks you will savor it for the rest of your life.

Your brother, breaks out of Kynas’ hold. Kynas doesn’t expect it and stumbles back, his hold on everyone else in the room faltering for a second. A second is all you need.

As you send three blood daggers from your hand, the blood sword that Kynas has pointed at your brother’s head rushes forward. Your daggers hit their intended target. 

Kynas falls on his back with a loud thud. The towns people, gathering their senses, rush away from the front of the room. You however look fro your brother, who is no longer in front of you. The blood blade staked into the floor, but no sign of him.

“Orlin?!” You scream.

“Right here, sister.” 

You turn around. There he is. Your brother, leaning against Cassian by the front of the door. You gather up the ends of your dress and run to him. He grabs a hold of you and brings you in for a hug.

It’s not hard to notice that you are crying. You duck your head down as you brother holds the back of your head.

“I’m so sorry sister,” he whispers.

It’s years of feelings that you’ve held onto pouring out of you at once. Grief, rage, tension, guilt. All of it comes out of you in between broken sobs.

“We’re okay. You saved everyone.” Your brother continues.

You pull away from him, shaking your head, “I didn’t—I mean I couldn’t have done it alone.”

You look over at Amren. She walks over to you and envelopes you in a hug. She whispers in your ear about the blade, and how she came as quick as she could when she realized something was wrong. You thank her over and over again.

From behind you can feel his presence. You turn your head to look. There Azriel is, not a scratch on him. He gives you a once over, you actually watch his eyes search you from head to toe. You have a feeling if no one else was here his shadows would physically make sure you were okay too.

You don’t notice it on first glance. That’s why when you look him over you notice how tense he is. 

“I’m okay,” you start saying.

He starts shaking his head, like he can’t believe it. You move to him at once. You grab his hand and place it at the juncture of your neck and shoulder. He lets out a strangled breath at the feeling of your blood flowing beneath his hand.

You nod your head again, “I’m okay. We’re okay.” 

He nods his head too. 

“Sister,” your brother says.

You pull away from Azriel. A few of his shadows climbing up your arm. You turn to face your brother but when you do you wish you hadn’t. He shows you his hand, which came from the back of his head, and there it is. It’s not blood. You wish it was blood. 

A dark substance coats his hand. You take two large steps to him. But it’s not quick enough. He stumbles into your arms. You go down to the floor with him.

Your brother lay on his back on your knees. You can feel the tears coming down your face again. Red. The color of the tears and all you can feel right now.

“Orlin, please, I can fix it!“ you cry.

He shakes his head.

“He gave his blood to the bog of Oorid. What he got back was slowly killing him.” Your brother says, coughing in between words.

If the blood inside Kynas was killing him, then the same blood he used to form the sword he pointed at your brother…was already in him. When he held him by the blade at the neck and when he nicked the back of his head.

He was already...

“I can take your blood, I can give you mine—“ you start.

All of these options could work. In theory. By taking your brother’s blood you could temporarily heal him. But if it’s been spreading for longer than you think you would have to take much more blood, and he wouldn’t survive that.

You could give him your blood, but that wouldn’t work as a cure. It would only work if you could stop the infection. Which, once again, might have been taking root for a long time.

The scars and bruises on his body. You doubt Kynas would use any other blade than his own blood to hurt your brother. 

“I am your older brother, my job is, was, to protect you. I cannot let you give me your blood.” He speaks.

His voice groggy now. He holds out his hand and you take it in yours

“I should have came sooner. I should have known.” You say.

“It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault, sister. But they are going to look to you know.” 

You let out a shaky breath and look around the room. The towns people are all taking in the scene in front of them. This wasn’t like the death of the council members which you hid from them. They are all witnessing the death of their emperor, right in front of their eyes.

They’re all watching in real time as the throne is being passed from one sibling to the next. From the heir to the spare.

You look back down at your brother, “I can’t do it. I don’t want this.”

“I know,” you brother hacks loudly and a bit of dark liquid comes out of his mouth, “but I know you’ll figure it out.” 

In your grip you feel his hand loosen. You shake your head and keep repeating his name. As if that would simply wake him up from this awful nightmare. When his chest stops rising you gasp.

You hug his body to yours. Even though you can feel it going cold by the second. It doesn’t feel real. You and your brother were supposed to live this life together. Yes you left and he stayed, but it didn’t matter. You weren’t supposed to be the only one left.

You don’t know how long you stay like that. It doesn’t feel like long. It feels like time is passing you by.

And you don’t move from your position until you hear a voice calling you. It’s not Amren, or Azriel. Or anyone from the inner circle. You know this voice like the back of your hand.

You slowly let your eyes trail up, up, up to the door of the throne room. Standing there in the threshold is Semaj. He looks shaken up but you can’t sense any injuries on him. He’s looking at you now with a scared look on his face.

He gets down on one knee and places his hand over his heart. Sadly he bows his head.

“Empress.” He says.

It’s strikes a reaction in the whole room. One by one all of the towns people bend their knee and bow their heads. You even see Amren joining in. They repeat the same word Semaj had said. The same word you had run from your whole life.

Empress.

[rubiatinctorum]

the thing i DO want to find out that is most inconsequential to The Way Home though is like. what's Kat's necklace gonna be this season. because she had in S1 like, these two interlocking circles or something? but didn't she have something more rectangular in S2? i wanna see if she'll have a different necklace each season and I wonder if the change between the first two seasons is supposed to be symbolic or if it's not something we're even supposed to think about

[weirdacelesbian]

You smile softly, their hand holds yours, fingers interlocked. You can feel the gentle pulse of their heart. It grows fainter.

"I dont know? What do you think?" You give them your usual grin, age has not yet come for you.

They smile up and gently rub circles on the back of your hand, "you stuck around didn't you?"

You go to reply but a sharp tone disturbs your train of thought, you look up to see the flatline. You never could keep with human time. You look at your companion, smile fading as muscles relax. The last thing they saw was you smiling at them and you're okay with that.

"You win my love." Gently you take the necklace from your neck, the small purple gem glimmers as the light catches it after five long decades.

Careful as possible, you place it around their neck, press a kiss against their forehead and whisper, "I'll see you in your next life. Maybe I won't be quite so stubborn."

You wipe away the steadily flowing tears and slip away to find them once more.

"i bet i can make you fall for me" said your human companion, you give small chuckle an say "challenge accepted" as a elf you don't mind spending a few decades humoring them. as you sit by them on their death bed you hear them ask "so did i win our little bet?"

[rococojewellery01]

Intertwined Elegance: Ti Sento Sterling Silver Intertwined Circle Pendant Necklace

This Ti Sento necklace features a graceful pair of interlocking circles crafted in sterling silver, symbolizing unity, connection, and infinite bonds. Each circle is meticulously polished, creating a radiant and refined finish that reflects light beautifully from every angle.

Designed to sit elegantly on the neckline, the pendant hangs from a slender sterling silver chain that balances modern minimalism with timeless sophistication. The interwoven circles offer both subtlety and symbolism, serving as a meaningful accessory or heartfelt gift.

Whether worn solo for a clean, sleek look or layered with other pieces for added dimension, this necklace adapts effortlessly to any style—an everyday staple with sentiment and style.