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qwimblenorrisstan · 4 months ago

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Insufficient Pt. 2 | Azriel x Reader

Summary: Following the disastrous breakup between you and Azriel, Nesta invites you out to a night at Rita’s, where you then discover that you might not be as safe in Night Court as you think.

Word Count: ~ 4.3k

Warnings: Stalkings, nasty public bathrooms, alcohol, drunk people, obsessive behavior, painfully bad description of blackjack, etc

A/N: ok so I kinda switched gears with this one, I’m trying to flesh it out before introducing another man, but lmk if you liked it, or if you have any opinion on where you’d like it to go, hope you enjoy <3

Requests are open!

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Only a week had passed since the disastrous breakup between you and Azriel, and as it turns out, it was harder to get rid of him than you’d originally thought.

Beforehand, he’d always seemed so controlled and stoic, that even being one of the main problems in your relationship was that he couldn’t ever let go of control. Being in charge meant he felt safe and secure, regardless of his feelings.

He had always seemed almost above you at times, above groveling and begging in bed, above communicating his feelings and emotions normally as he just expected you to read his mind or moods despite the way he hid any kernel of emotion from his body language. However, all of that seemed to have changed.

After the breakup, you’d gone back to working in the bakery, working specifically in the back making bread with your family, so you wouldn’t have to see him when he came in, probably trying to hunt you down. The heat the ovens gave off also seemed to repel his shadows, for whatever reason, so they wouldn’t spy on you any more than they already had. Though he had come asking for you before at the counter, your family had always shut him down. You felt bad about it for a second, but thinking back, you also didn’t. He’d chosen his words, and he was only sorry because you were his mate.

You’d moved back into the family home for now, your relatives surrounding you in love and empathy, and plenty of righteous fury regarding Azriel, and even a few “I told you so.”’s from the older generations.

Nesta would come by to visit now and then, having tea with you and updating you on all the latest news and developments, if not just funny stories to bring your spirits up, such as Nyx swallowing an ancient coin that he got from Rhys’ desk, only to poop it out shiny and clean a few days later, or how Cassian got so drunk he jumped from the top of the townhouse into a nearby pool that belonged to a neighbor.

On the bad days, she would offer some quiet company, or even open up to you about similar things that happened to her in the past.

Specifically, her past relationship.

She didn’t give a name, simply the details that he was a poor man’s family, his father abused his mother, and he was no better. She only was going to marry him to let Feyre take better care of Elain, really, even if it ended up with her getting beaten by some pathetic man. And then she told you of the night she rejected him, and tried to break it off, and how she almost barely got away before he could take what wasn’t his.

You both sat in silence after that, your hand in hers.

Eventually, though, the conversation continued. You told her of the flowers that would mysteriously appear on your windowsill each morning. Neither of you knew how Azriel knew what room you occupied in your family’s home, or even how he knew your address or favorite type of flower, Ditch Lily’s, but he knew. Or the letters you received nightly, always carried by some bird of prey to your window, and would leave it there.

She snorted when you told her about the letters.

“He’s being ridiculous, seriously, even Cassian isn’t that bad. He only cares because you’re his mate, not because of who you actually are, and until he gets his shit together I wouldn’t even open them.”

She said, taking a sip of the herbal tea your mother had prepared for both of you. It was a special recipe, one that some of your distant relatives in Autumn Court had created, originally meant to relieve muscle tension and stress from overuse of magic, and even assist in alleviating burnout. You were mildly convinced that there might be some healer blood in you, because of that half of the family.

You could’ve sworn you felt a tiny tug on the bond at the mention of Azriel.

“I know, I’ve just been burning them, but he won’t leave me alone. Every shadow feels like they’re watching me now, and I just…”

You sighed, trailing off as your hand went to rub the bridge of your nose, and she gave a hum of acknowledgment, finishing your sentence for you.

“Don’t feel safe in the one place that you used to only feel safe in?”

You glanced up, eyes widening a bit. That was precisely how you felt.

“Yes, how..?”

She took another sip of her tea, glancing over to the window and looking out of it, eyes almost glazing over as some memory must’ve come to light.

“Beneath the House of Wind is the library, though I’m sure you’ve already heard of it. The priestesses stayed there, and it was always quiet, and something about it made me feel…safe, even when I was in an unfamiliar body in new surroundings, the world in the middle of a war.”

She said, and you nodded, waiting for her to go on. You knew plenty of the library beneath the House of Wind and how massive it was.

“One night, me and Feyre both descended nearly to the bottom, for what I can barely remember, and there were two twin males. Sent by Hybern, I think. They were taken out before they could do any harm, but the damage was still done. It took me quite a while to think of the library as a safe space after that.”

The glaze in her eyes faded away as she took another sip of her tea, looking more relaxed than before. She looked over at you, her eyes meeting yours.

“How did you get it back like that? A safe place, I mean.”

You then asked, and she looked away for a moment to think, a common habit of hers. One you’d noticed by now. Always noticing things, something you must’ve learned from Azriel, and as much as you hated the reminder of him, it was useful regardless.

“Changing environments helped me. During and after the war, we were always traveling a lot, which forced me to appreciate the thought of home more. Then again, home was also linked with Cassian for me.”

She said, thinking aloud before eventually speaking again.

“I’d try moving around a bit. Exercise helped me, especially travel and hiking, or breathing exercises. I could teach you a few if you’d like?”

She offered. You would be a fool to refuse any sort of advice or help from Nesta Archeron, and she’d never led you astray before, so you nodded, and she smiled brightly, clearly happy to show you.

The next few hours were spent in the backyard on whatever flat surface there was, practicing impossibly stretched that seemed like whoever made them wanted to turn you into a pretzel. Nesta managed them just fine but didn’t laugh when you fell, only helped you back up, telling you all about how when she’d first started training with Cassian, it had been just as hard for her too.

She’d even outright refused to do it the first few times.

However, after that, she showed you cool-down exercises and helped you practice breathing techniques.

“Wait, so…I hold it for how long?”

You asked, and she held back a giggle at the sheer confusion in your tone as she answered.

“Twenty seconds, but you can-“

“TWENTY??”

At that, she burst out laughing, and before you knew it you were laughing too, both of you laying back on the grass of the yard and hoping none of the seasonal bugs crawled up onto you. She finally sat up a moment later, wiping tears from her eyes as she stood and helped you up.

“Build up from five, you can start at five seconds and build up, is what I was going to say.”

She said, and you sighed.

“And I thought I was in shape before.”

You said in an amused tone, and she snorted again, only for the both of you to look over where you heard another loud snort and see Cassian standing, leaning against a large tree in the backyard. He was grinning widely as ever, his eyes full of pure glee.

“Having fun without me, ladies?”

He asked, putting a hand over his heart in a dramatic expression as he rolled his eyes, acting fatally wounded.

“Honestly, I’m hurt-“

He wasn’t able to finish his sentence before you barreled into him, giving him a tight hug that he chuckled at and returned, ruffling your hair. Nesta was soon to follow, and hugging him in a much more elegant manner than you.

When you finally separated, you spoke.

“Gods, I’ve missed you. We should let him come to tea time, too, Nesta.”

You said with a grin, and Nesta rolled her eyes playfully, squeezing his bicep. A tiny twinge of jealousy seemed to echo down the bond, as if Azriel had seen you hugging Cassian, and didn’t appreciate it. Another tug on the bond that you shut out, now hyper aware of any shadows.

“You’d be surprised at how much of a gossip he is, it’s never-ending with the Devlon-rumors.”

She said, and his expression shifted to playfully offended as he swatted at Nesta’s hand. You giggled, and Nesta glanced over at you, before gaining a thoughtful expression.

“We could do Rita’s tonight if you could make it?”

She asked, and Cassian gave a little nod as if also agreeing with this. You didn’t have any plans tonight, so why not spend a night out with your friends? It would certainly help you get your mind off of things.

“Sure, what time?”

You asked, head cocked slightly to the side. Nesta shrugged.

“Is 6 good for you?”

She asked, and you nodded in confirmation. She gave you one last smile before Cassian scooped her up to fly away.

“See you tonig-“

Her words were cut off with a little shriek as Cassian launched into the air at maximum speed just to spook her like he always did, and you giggled to yourself, heading back inside the family home. Unbeknownst to you, a shadowy figure lurked behind that tree after Cassian left, watching.

To be fair, the shifts were switched out now and then so everyone had a break, but he usually ended up babysitting. Despite his objections and complaints, he was good at it, sort of a baby-whisperer.

“Who was that pretty lady?”

He asked, a slight touch of color on his cheeks as you smirked with a knowing look.

“That was my friend, Nesta. She’s taken.”

You clarified for him, noticing the way his face fell in disappointment all too clearly before you patted your baby cousin on the head, and walked up to your temporary room. Maybe Nesta’s idea of traveling a bit and exploring different places was good. You had all of immortality ahead of you, after all. Might as well use it well.

You walked to your room, before going to the bathroom attached to it. You were more than lucky to get a room with a bathroom attached, and you knew it, since everyone bickered over who got to shower first and who had been in there too long for the normal bathroom in the hall. Stripping your clothes off, you turned the water on, letting it settle to a warm, but refreshing temperature.

You went through your entire hair routine and washed your body off, shaving and everything. Tonight was an everything shower. You wanted to look your best at Rita’s tonight, and you desperately needed a confidence boost after what Azriel had said to you.

Nearly half an hour later, your hair done all pretty, makeup on, and a pretty red dress gracing your form. You’d even painted your nails yourself, forgoing the usual stylist you went to for it.

By the time 6 had rolled around, you were almost to Rita’s, walking down the bustling streets of Velaris as the cool air blew by, the sun already beginning to set as early as it did in this season.

The moment you walked into the bar, already full of people, it only took a few seconds to spot Nesta and Cassian inside. Cassian was drinking and laughing his ass off with some other males, and doing arm wrestling that he never seemed to lose at, and Nesta was playing poker, and by the looks of it had already won a few games before based on the sly smile she wore.

You walked over and ordered your drink, nothing too strong, and decided that you could take a little time away from Nesta for now. You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, considering she’d been listening to all of your problems every time she’d come over. It was probably best if you gave her a little alone time for herself.

Walking over to a table to try your hand at what looked like a boring game of blackjack, you were about to sit down when something captured your attention.

A lone shadow lurking beneath your feet.

You swallow, getting a weird feeling about it, but you simply stomped one foot down on it before sitting down, determined not to let something so small ruin this night for you. The cards were dealt, and you received a queen of spades and eight of clubs, and as the game progressed, you took risks, choosing to hit, and somehow miraculously not going over 21 the entire time. You felt the lightest tug on the bond, but ignored it.

It was mildly suspicious, considering how bad you usually were at cards. That was until you spied the same wispy shadow from earlier on the deck of cards, hiding in the normal shadow of it. It was discreetly moving cards, changing them for you to win.

Now incredibly annoyed, you excused yourself from the game and walked to the bathroom. Rita’s bathrooms weren’t extremely clean, but you just needed a place to take a breather.

You pushed the door open, not surprised by the few females in here who were either redoing their makeup or drunk out of their minds and crying. Oddly enough, though, they filed out almost as soon as you entered, some giving you off looks as you entered one of the stalls, sliding the lock closed, and sat on top of the toilet seat, pulling your knees to your chest.

Sure, things were weird tonight, but it was probably just Azriel trying to play mind games with you. He was a Spymaster. His entire job revolves around torturing information out of people and playing mental gymnastics to get what he wants from them. You wouldn’t be surprised if he was now hyper-fixated on you, determined to get you back if only to feel better about himself.

You heard the bathroom door open, barely creaking as the lightest footsteps became apparent to you. Probably another drunk woman, or someone looking to fix their makeup or outfit. Nothing out of the usual, you told yourself, even as your body began stiffening and your heart rate sped up. A lock clicked. The bathroom door.

You couldn’t get a decent whiff of the stranger, whether it be the alcohol or the reek of the bathroom in and of itself. Not daring to open up the stall or peek out, you became still as a statue.

Nearly silent footsteps.

A knob creaked, probably the sink, and water began running at its maximum speed.

Another sink turned on.

Then another.

Until all the sinks were on.

Your heart began beating faster. Why would anyone turn all the sinks on, if not to cover up the noise of something else, or someone else making loud noises?

Louder, bolder footsteps in your stall’s direction.

Glancing down beneath the door, you could see a pair of thick, black leathery boots now standing in front of it. You recognized those. How could you not?

A certain shadowsinger’s shoes. His work shoes.

You didn’t dare move, even as you heard a knock against the stall. It would’ve seemed polite in any other situation, but not here, not now.

“I know you’re in there.”

His quiet voice spoke, still filled with that tension you’d seen in his eyes the day you’d decided to finally break free of him.

He knocked again.

“I’m sorry for what I said, I shouldn’t have said that, if you would please, please, just give me another chance, I’ve been trying to talk with you for days but you were busy, and when I saw you here tonight, I thought that maybe we could talk this out-“

He said, voice filled with pleading and desperation as he rambled on. You’d never heard him express so much emotion before in his voice. It was interrupted by the bathroom door almost being opened, despite it being locked. A bang on the door, and Nesta’s muffled voice was heard through the door.

“Bullshit, I’m getting a worker..”

Azriel must’ve known he had limited time now, because he banged on the stall door louder, a bit more panicked.

“Please, just open the door. I’m sorry, just let me in. We can figure this out.”

He said, now shaking the stall door with the handle, and you didn’t dare move. Didn’t speak, didn’t do anything other than sit and pray to whatever gods you believed in. The Mother. The Cauldron. Anything. Whatever would make him go away. You had known the respectful, kind Azriel. The one that had waited centuries for Mor and not pushed anything, even when she openly went to other males and pushed him away. The one who wouldn’t push any boundary, but this Azriel…you didn’t know him.

The jingling of keys outside the bathroom door was heard, the worker Nesta must’ve called, and a frustrated sigh came from the voice outside your stall.

You could almost see it now, him angrily running his hands through his inky black hair, shadows swirling and writhing in agitation as he tried to think on how to fix this.

“You can’t hide from me forever, you’re just confused right now. I will get you back.”

He spoke finally, before the bathroom door burst open, and his presence was completely gone. You released a shaky breath, not daring to move still, even as the worker cursed and began turning all the sinks off.

“Haven’t seen it that jammed in a long time,”

She muttered, walking out eventually, you unlocked the stall door when you felt alone, only to swing it open and Nesta to pop into your vision. You almost screamed, jolting backward and slamming your head into a wall. She raised her hands in mock innocence.

“Easy, it’s just me. I figured you might be in here when I couldn’t find you, and…..”

She looked you up and down, noticing how shaken and pale you seemed, and frowned. Tilting her head sideways, she asked the obvious.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You looked all around the bathroom, finding no sign of him anywhere, no moving shadows or dark presences.

“He was here, Nesta. He kept begging me to come out and—I don’t know what he would’ve done if you hadn’t shown up.”

You said, tears welling up before falling as you began sobbing. She frowned deeper, now scowling as she pulled you against her chest, worry filling her expression.

“It’s alright, I’ll take you home.”

She said, helping walk you out of the bathroom, and as she passed by Cassian she grabbed the big Illyrian by the ear and dragged him out of the bar, outside with fresh air. Cassian immediately looked concerned, brows furrowed, but one look from Nesta was enough for him to nod grimly as his expression darkened, the two of them no doubt communicating mentally as most mates did.

He scooped the both of you up, and despite the alcohol in his system, managed a decent flight to your house. He gave you a pat on the head before Nesta walked you inside, and as soon as the two of you were in the privacy of your room, she spoke.

“Look, I’ll tell Rhys to keep an eye on him, but it’s not like Azriel will listen to anything Rhys orders him to do regarding…this. Just…be careful.”

She said in a hushed tone, and you nodded weakly.

“I can’t stay here. Not when he’s..watching and following me.”

Nesta gave a little nod, as she understood, but she still looked concerned. She was friends with Azriel, you knew as much, but even this was pushing it.

“I have family in Autumn, I could go find them.”

You suggested, and she sighed.

“You do realize he could just have one of his shadows follow you? Unless you left without telling anyone, then…”

The both of you shared a glance, and in a moment, understood what you needed to do to get away. A stalker problem wasn’t one that you thought you would have, but Azriel was obsessive and possessive, even after you’d thrown out all the flowers he’d left, and burnt all the letters you’d given him. He wouldn’t stop at anything, no matter what boundaries you tried to set.

You dragged the duffel bag out from under your bed, the same one you had used to pack your things the day you’d left and began shoving clothes into it, clothes that would suit a few days of travel in the wilderness. You nearly tore your dress off, shoving dark clothing that covered almost every bit of your skin.

If you headed through the main routes of the Court traveling system, Azriel could easily find you. The mating bond would only make it easier from there.

Nesta began helping, choosing clothes from your closet that she deemed acceptable and neatly arranging everything in the duffel bag.

“Are you going to tell your family?”

She asked quietly, and you sighed.

“My grandmother, she’d understand. She fled Autumn when she was younger, some long story about escaping a lover from the royal family.”

You said as you continued packing, and hurried down the stairs. Everyone was asleep this late, except for your grandmother for her nightly tea session. She was sitting in the living room, sipping away, and her eyes shifted to you. Despite her young form, her eyes were old and carried a wisdom you couldn’t explain.

“Grandma, I can’t explain, but-“

“You need to leave, I understand. Under the stairs, there is food. I expected this. Find your great aunt in Autumn.”

That made you pause for a moment, eyes widening, a little twinkle in her eye, and a small mischievous smirk made its way onto her face as she saw your confusion.

“I am not nearly as oblivious as you think I am, now go. Time is of the essence.”

She said, making a little waving motion, and you hurried off to find the little place under the stairs, opening the tiny area beneath it through the small cabinet door, rations were stashed there just like she’d said. You grabbed them, and hurried back up the stairs, and walking into your room you shoved it into the now-full duffle bag and zipped it up. Nesta gave you a confused look when she saw all the pre-prepared food you somehow had, but you only shrugged and she moved on.

“You’re going to need a way to travel, it’ll be thousands of miles to Autumn.”

She said, and you sighed, looping your arm through the handles of the duffle bag and throwing it over your shoulder as you hurried down the steps again, trying to be quiet for the sake of your sleeping family.

Nesta followed you out of the front door as you shut it, Cassian still standing outside, quietly watching with that same grim look on his face as you hopped your neighbor's fence, running across the mass of property they had in the backyard, straight to the small horse stables they had. You went in and opened the first one you could find, a dark-colored mare with a splotchy white stripe down her face, and some white near her hooves.

Pulling the winter coat off of her the gentlest you could, you scrambled to find a bridle that fit the mare as she stomped nervously, and you eventually found one and slipped it on, the horse not seeming eager to get the bit in its mouth, even though you managed to get it in.

Nesta caught up with you and glanced from you to the horse.

“You are crazy.”

She said though she had a slight smirk as she said it. You sighed, grabbing the reins and leading the mare outside of its stall, and you glanced over to Nesta.

“Give me a leg up?”

You asked with a small attempt at a grin, and she sighed, shaking her head in fond exasperation as she held her hands out for you to put your foot in, and you did, and she counted down from three before hoisting you up over the horse.

The large animal did not seem happy about that, either. But despite its protests, and the fact that you were riding it bareback because taking care of a bridle, saddle, stirrups and more was probably more than you could handle, you managed.

“Tell Rhys to ignore anyone complaining of a missing horse for me, will you?”

You said with that weak little half-grin, and she returned it.

“Sure, I can manage that.”

She said in an amused tone.

A moment of silence passed, before she swallowed, and spoke.

“Be careful. Don’t get yourself killed.”

She said, and you nodded, laughing softly.

“I won’t. Once I’m..safe, I’ll figure out a way to let you know. I promise.”

The inky mark of your oath spread around both of your wrists, reminding you of the promise. You didn’t know how you’d tell her without anyone else, or a specific shadowsinger catching wind of where you were, but you would figure it out.

The wind blew by, and you swallowed again.

“Well…I guess this is goodbye.”

“For now.”

She replied, and you nodded.

“For now.”

And with that, she gave a single nod and began walking back over to Cassian, who offered a dip of his head in goodbye. You gently nudged the horse with your foot, gathering up the reigns, and it jolted forward, taking any excuse to run wild after being cooped up in a stall for so long.

It hopped the fence easily, despite how you almost fell off and began bounding off before you adjusted it Southeast, where you would skirt the boundaries of Night Court, and then head to Autumn.

Into Autumn, where freedom loomed, and into Autumn, where the threat of more than just your self-discovery loomed as well.

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#acotar fanfiction #writers on tumblr #acotar fandom #acotar x reader #azriel #azriel acotar #azriel x reader #nesta supremacy #nesta archeron #nesta x cassian #nesta acotar #nessian #acotar #fanfic writing #writers #writers block #writer #female writers #cassian acotar

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gallusrostromegalus · 1 year ago

Note

I haven't seen any dog stories in a while. How are Charleston and The Hanukkah Goblin doing?

Dog updates!

The first one is a little sad, but also how life should go. Arwen is 14 now and while she's still moving, eating, pooping and generally enjoying life, she also has canine dementia and sundown syndrome where she gets extremely nervous and her dementia gets worse after dark. She'll be with us for a while yet, but it's something we have to manage now.

One person who is very much helping her manage is Herschel. My parents are traveling a lot while they still have the knees for it so I spend a lot of time up at their house, and Charleston and Herschel come up too. Being a Corgi, Herschel likes to manage things, and Arwen would like someone to manage things for her so he's become her self-appointed guide dog.

When I call the dogs for food or outside, he goes and finds her deaf ass and herds her to the location. Normally she doesn't go outside after dark but when the boys are there she's willing to wait for Charlie to chase away anything that might be lurking out there, and then follow Herschel's ass around the yard at night.

Very literally.

She's also got cataracts forming and I think his bright white backside is easy for her to see in the dark, so she follows it around.

During daytime walks she sees well enough but neither she nor Charlie are fans of strange off-leash dogs running up to them (a regrettably common problem out here. I don't care if your dog is friendly MINE ARE NOT!), so both of them prefer to walk half a pace behind Herschel so his more socially adept and knife-filled face is out front to intercept any unwanted solicitors. This does tend to give people the opposite impression though- because he is so much shorter, Herschel gives the impression of a tiny, charming mafioso flanked by his two large and surly bodyguards.

Like, they absolutely would kill a bear for him.

But Charlie and Arwen would also try to kill a bear on general principle.

At night, when Arwen barks at shadows, Herschel runs up and stand between her and the alleged menace, and does his best to look large and intimidating and for as silly as he looks, he does have a very good growl. After a moment, when the alleged bear or congressman or other horror fails to appear, he will stick his nose into the offending shadow, and finding nothing, be satisfied that their joint effort has successfully chased the problem off, and report back to her. This, more than anything else, seems to alleviate Arwen 's fears.

I guess we all just need someone to take us seriously when we're frightened.

Charleston, meanwhile, has gotten into giving safari tours of the front range's small vertebrates.

After eight years of managing his exceptionally high prey drive, something clicked earlier this summer and instead of immediately lunging his whole face at any approximately bite-sized animal in an attempt to expedite it's journey into his stomach, Charlie has started *pointing* at things until I come look at them and tell him he's a good boy. This started with a mole, something he'd never seen before and that moves above ground in a strange way, so he wasn't sure about eating it, so he only alerted at it. "GOOD BOY!" I shouted, giving him all the cuddles. "GOOD SPOT! GOOD JOB NOT EATING IT!"

It's important to reward behavior you want to see.

Since then, he's been trying out pointing at small creatures in the grass and then making very pointed eye contact with me until I come look at them. This is a little tricky when walking both dogs because Herschel is still very much in his "inhale wildlife" phase, but usually I can lock the little gremlin's leash and go look at whatever Charlie has cornered while Herschel attempts to develop telekinesis to will the critter into his mouth.

So far, Charleston has found: a baby rabbit, several baby rabbits in a cluster, an adult rabbit with Jackalope virus, several voles, several moles, a fledgling owl, only the two mice, several mouse-sized grasshoppers and cicada, someone's pet rat (the person was searching within earshot and 'Socks' was collected forthwith), a beanie baby that had me fooled for a hit minute too, a marmot which I didn't know lived down here, a groundhog which I didn't know lived up here, a mink, so many toads, a wild turkey chick, so many more garter snakes and last night, an aquatic shrew.

I don't know if there's an Audubon Society for small things that scuttle around in the undergrowth, but I am inclined to join solely to get Charleston recognition for his service in surveying them.

#dogs #Charleston Chew #Arwen the crime dog #Herschel the Hanukkah Goblin #family lore

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blackknight-kai · 18 days ago

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Wukong and Cat

I just think it would be funny to see Wukong dealing with a house pet. Specially a cat. (Maybe a dog but that’s not the point today) - In this Wukong can travel to the modern day to stay with you (before you fully commit to staying in the past with him Edit: yes taking the cat with you).

See, cats are…cats. Yes they can be skittish or friendly, mean or weird as hell. They come in all shapes and sizes both in body and personality. They consistently push boundaries - keeping them off counters am I right? And sometimes as the slightest change they do awful shit to tell you it displeased them - pissing outside the litter box because you moved it a few feet from where it normally is or got rid of their favorite chair.

Cats are entitled and they run the house. You ever been hounded by a cat that woke up from its nap and thinks it’s dinner time but they don’t eat for another 3 hours? Yeah it’s annoying. (We love them)

They are our mini gods basically.

Wukong would NOT do well with one at first.

It doesn’t listen to him, it gives him dirty looks 24/7, he doesn’t know what the hell it’s up to or thinking but he knows it’s plotting harm to him, he knows it’s mocking him as it watches him form its perch across the room. The damn thing even had you on a feeding schedule!!! It OWNS you!

But it will not own him. No. He is a free monkey. A KING! The Great Sage Equal to Heaven and Earth! No house pet will have dominion over him.

You even buy it toys it seems to play with 1 time before and never again. You spoil the ungrateful shit. It also sleeps with you, but not since he came along much to his pleasure. Yes furry asshole, that’s HIS spot now.

He finds it ridiculous that you even scoop up its fucking shit that it leaves for you. At the very least it covers it up but why are you its designated poop scraper? He doesn’t understand why it doesn’t shit and piss outside like every other animal. He may be a king but he’s never had anyone shovel his shit!

So when you ask him to help with the house chores one day, specifically handling the litter box and trash, he is taken aback. Him? Use the tiny shovel to scrape out its excrement? Oh absolute not. Hell no. Not on your life.

He is a KING. He does NOT shovel SHIT. No. He doesn’t budge until you glare at him. He can tell you’re getting annoyed and he doesn’t like it when you’re mad at him.

Wukong, thinking he’s being a genius summons a clone and decides the clone can handle the shitty sand. But then the clone also refuses. Starts arguing with him! The audacity! This goes on for several minutes, neither clone or original giving in until you come into the room having heard the heated conversation.

You tell him with a tone of finality to stop being a monkey cub and grow up, that if he doesn’t sift the litter by the time you come back he’s sleeping on the couch - one night for every turd and pee clump you find in that box. You stomp off to finish the laundry and Wukong & Clone look at the doorway with slight surprise. Clone snickers and gives Wukong a smirk, saying “Looks like our Queen has spoken, the King is on turd duty.” Before offing himself and disappearing with a cackle as Wukong curses his own cheekiness.

After several minutes of staring at the box with disgust he hears you walking through the house and his heart races. Quickly he grabs the weird little shovel and starts sifting, as you step into the room he smiles at you as if to say “See I’m a good boy” and you give him a look before going back to your own chores.

Wukong doesn’t DARE push you enough to ruin his nightly cuddles with you. No. Nothing is worth losing that. So he scoops the damn cats box and as he does so he hears tiny footsteps. Looking over he sees your cat watching him, as though supervising him. It pisses him off to no end that the house pet is looking at him so smugly. “Who’s the king now.”

Grumbling under his breath Wukong finishes his task and finally stands up straight. As he does so he looks at the furry animal. “Is it clean enough your highness?” He asks sarcastically but then his eyes widen as the cat steps towards the box.

To his utter annoyance and anger it takes a shit! RIGHT AFTER HED JUST CLEANED IT OUT? HOW DARE!!!!

He throws a tantrum he will deny to this day about it to you and you laugh saying that yeah, that happens almost every time. It infuriates him to no end. But he loves you and you love the cat. So he can’t do anything that would bring the little asshole harm or he’d risk losing you which is NOT an option.

He hates the damn thing so much.

But one day, while he’s napping on your couch, he wakes to a weird rumbling on his chest. Groggily he opens his eyes and lifts his head a little and is met with the sight of your cat curled up on his chest, eyes half lidded and watching him, its purring. He lays his head back down and tries to be annoyed by it. But the damn purr is soothing….it’s genuinely kinda nice. And his chest is warm. If he ends up stroking your cats fur making it purr louder until the two of them fall back asleep? That’s between him and cat.

#black myth wukong #sun wukong x reader #black myth wukong x reader #bk kai writes #I was thinking about Wukong arguing with himself (his clone) and made myself laugh #sun wukong

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whirlybirbs · 3 months ago

Text

— BURNER CELL ; 2 ; DABI ; 荼毗

summary: after a week of silence, you finally text dabi. pairing: dabi / f!reader ; quirkless word count: 1.3k tag: humor, maladjusted dabi meets normal adult woman, flirting, canon-based world building, cancer mention, texting as a plot device, slight au, univeristy student!reader a/n: this stole all my concentration. siri play emo boy by ayesha erotica ← previous | the tag

It's the kind of week where, aside from class, human interaction isn't really on life's setlist.

It's also the kind of week where you rediscover making a meal of raw cookie dough straight from the package. Your econ textbook might have a stranglehold on you, but you make enough time to scarf down a few globs between chapters — after all, who needs protein or fiber when you're sure this five-year master's program will kill you first?

Your head hurts.

You slump against the counter, refilling your water bottle.

It's late now — and you can feel the quiet woes beginning to wane as you blink at the clock. By now, your friends are probably on their second or third drinks. You turned the invite down when they asked yesterday. Nuri tugged on your sweater sleeve and pouted the best pout she could manage, but you didn't budge.

I've gotta finish this paper, I'm sorry, Nur'.

You roll your jaw as you shut the faucet off, wandering to your freezer to wrangle some cubes from the tray. You bend it slowly, deep in thought. A few pop out, and you idly drop them into your water bottle with a twang.

You're staring at your phone. It's by your computer on the counter.

...You never did text Dabi.

You told yourself it was for the best — after all, you weren't looking for a catastrophic derailment of your life at the moment. Things are good. You're two semesters away from finishing University, your family's bakery back in Kyoto is doing well, and Dad's chemotherapy seems to be working. Things are good! It's almost fall, you've managed to stick to your monthly budget, and Mizu settled in happily to your new apartment.

No four-day poop strike like the last time you moved.

The large tuxedo cat in question ambles through the kitchen — brushing against your leg and letting out a long, low mrrooow.

Things are great!

You shouldn't text Dabi.

But... even if you did, it's not like it'd be the end of the world, right?

Wait, could he figure out where you lived from your number...?

You could use one of those anonymous texting services. Then, it wouldn't even be your number. Just some fake string of digits that allow you to satiate the bizarre curiosity that's been swirling in your head for the last week.

You're sure the novelty will wear off.

He's probably not even going to respond.

You're telling yourself this is stupid as you begin to set up an account with the service — the app boasts privacy, andunlimited calls and texts... You can't help but feel a little strange as you finalize your account.

It's done.

You import his contact with two taps and stare at the blank screen.

...Now what?

Are you really going to do this? I mean — he's a wanted criminal. He's a member of the League of Villains. If anyone ever found out you were in contact with him, you'd be toast. You'd have All Might kicking your door in and demanding to look through your phone and that mental image is enough to make you cringe. Say goodbye to your degree, goodbye toyour future as Sakura Flour's owner, and goodbye to freedom. You're sure the Safety Commission would place you on some watch list for the rest of your life, and frankly, your tweets are already questionable. You don't need more scrutiny.

...So, there are two options.

Delete his number and move on... or don't get caught.

You shouldn't text Dabi.

...But, you do.

Truth be told, he isn't shocked to see that cute Nuri girl hanging on Giran's arm again. The Broker seems pretty into her — the guy even mentioned something about taking her to a nice dinner during the week as a congrats on passing some big test. Dabi can't blame him. She's cute. Looks good in red. Not his type, but he can appreciate it from time to time.

However, Dabi is a little shocked that you're not a part of the group cheering in Giran's VIP section. There's bottle service being ordered, laughter, dancing, and a gaggle of pretty, five college girls — and none of them are you.

His lips twist into a scowl.

He decides he's leaving; his piss-poor drink is tossed back, and he dumps a bill down for the bartender before tugging his hood up and sucking his teeth.

He never liked this club anyway.

He's crossing the threshold of the back door, stepping into the damp and dark alley, when the phone in his back pocket buzzes. Someone's smoking a Marlboro by the dumpster. The familiar smell makes Dabi's fingers twitch.

He's tryna quit.

He tugs the phone from his pocket, no longer bothered by the splintered glass screen. His battery is at 13%. This fuckin' thing barely holds a charge anymore.

The number on the screen isn't one he knows.

Dabi's passcode is unnecessarily long. His phone clicks open as he narrows his eyes and shambles towards the opening in the alley. He doesn't know this number. He has everyone's cell memorized that he needs. Shigaraki, Toga, Spinner, Jin, Compress, even Giran. He doesn't keep contacts. Doesn't work when he's ditching phones all the time. He's got his noggin. That's good enough.

The text is one word:

hi.

Dabi's squinting at the text when another buzzes through.

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:48pm sorry, this is bar girl

→ dabi ; 11:46pm thought u were never gonna txt me ur girlie nuri is here where r u

There's no way.

Your phone buzzes three times from its far place where it sits face down on the counter — you just walked away from it, hellbent on distracting yourself while you waited out the potential reply. You go rigid in your kitchen.

Did he seriously text you back immediately?

You purse your lips, then slink towards the phone. It buzzes again.

→ dabi ; 11:47pm c'mon don't leave me hangin pretty

Your eyes are wide as you stare at the string of replies. He has read receipts turned on like the psychopath he is.

You lean back against the counter, chewing your cuticle as you let out a ragged sigh. Nuri is with him? Or... No, they said they were going to that club you hate.

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:4pam oh, are they at the bar?‎

Dabi's fingers move fast.

→ dabi ; 11:49pm nah in downtown club tropical or whatever the fuck it's called

You snort a little.

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:49pm i hate that place. their drinks suck.

Dabi has started making his way back to their hideout — back to the shit box apartments they're renting above Kurogiri's bar. He's slow, idly texting as he weaves through the crowds of nightlife in Kamino Ward.

→ dabi ; 11:50pm a girl after my own heart where r u ur dodging my question u on a date or smthng????

He's insistent, you'll give him that. You cross your legs as you lean back against the laminate counter and chew the inside of your lip.

He's typing. It starts, then stops, then starts again.

When you start typing, the bubble disappears.

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:50pm nah, got a huge paper to finish uni student, remember? sorry to disappoint

→ dabi ; 11:51pm ur missin out giran got bottle service him and nuri looked cozy

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:51pm not shocked she thinks she can fix him

→ dabi ; 11:51pm ooooo love when that happens poor girl

Typing...

→ dabi ; 11:51pm u think u can fix me? :p

The emoji makes your face break into a smile — it's so... not what you expected.

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:52pm nah i'm not stupid

→ dabi ; 11:52pm just busy.... really lame of u tbh coulda been fun

← 909.999.3399 ; 11:52pm wasting cash on mid drinks is the opposite of fun

→ dabi ; 11:52pm i meant seeing me

Oh, what the fuck.

Why does that text make your face feel hot? Why does that text make you feel like you're not texting the League of Villain's #1 Arsonist, but some cute boy from class? He's not a cute boy from class. He's a danger to society.

You're glad you don't have the opportunity to reply. Your phone is buzzing in your hands, the haptic feedback lighting the neurons in your brain on fire.

→ dabi ; 11:53pm gtg phone is gonna die have fun with ur paper u loser hope u get a good grade or whatever i'll txt u later

You shouldn't have texted Dabi.

But you did.

#burner cell #mha dabi #bnha x reader #bnha dabi #dabi todoroki #dabi x reader #dabi x you #dabi imagine #mha imagine #bnha imagine #touya x reader #touya x y/n #dabi x y/n #this is ridiculously fun i love these two haters

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gatitties · 10 months ago

Note

can you make a scenario where saitama accidentally makes his s/o cry and he just panicking and tryin to calm down or makes his s/o laugh (But do whatever seems right in ur opinion!)

Please and thank you!

─Saitama x reader

─Summary: Luck is not on your side today, you just hope you can rest and return home but it seems that you are more sensitive than you seem when Saitama makes a joke, don't worry, he is still your personal hero.

─Warnings: none

It wasn't a good day for you, the alarm clock didn't ring because Saitama broke it ─again─ and as a consequence you arrived late for work, getting scolded by your boss. As if that were not enough, the rest of the work was a bit of a disaster, your body did not seem to react correctly to the stimuli and you were clumsier than normal.

When you returned home you couldn't buy your favorite sweet, you had hoped that the food would make your day a little better, but the disappointment of not finding your favorite dessert only made you sink deeper into your misery, you stepped in a puddle, dirtying some of your pants favorites, a cat scratched you when you tried to pet it, you stepped in a dog's poop when turning a corner...

You were accumulating a lot of things that drained your mood to a minimum, the only thing you hope is to get home and for Saitama to shower you with love, hugs, kisses on your face… any show of affection right now would improve your day, you didn't expect that could get worse, but you thought about it too quickly.

You know that Saitama is quite sincere and gets straight to the point of the matter, so he doesn't usually soften his words when he speaks ─something he's working on improving just for you─, today he didn't mince a word when speaking as soon as you walked in the door.

"Honey, you stink, did you bathe in poop?"

Saitama's purpose was just to mess with you, he just wanted to say something funny that would make you smile when he saw your discouraged face, since sometimes you mess with each other making jokes, if you had had a normal day you would have laughed and returned him the joke, but that was not the case today.

He turned around when he didn't hear a response from you, a feeling of guilt stuck in the pit of his stomach as he saw how some tears escaped your eyes, he rushed to your side to grab you by the shoulders and pull you closer to him in a hug, he caressed your back gently while you stained his shoulder with snot.

"He-hey, you know I was joking, right? Even if you woke up tomorrow as a worm, I would still love you."

Sobbing a little more before laughing lightly, your breathing hitched due to a strange cry and laughter at your partner's unexpected comment, he began to panic when he saw how you wouldn't stop crying, at this point you were just letting everything that you endured during the day out.

It wasn't until long minutes later where Saitama was racking his brain thinking about what to say to make you feel better that you stopped crying. He still looked at you worried, considering the options of making you tea or giving you a tranquilizer to calm you down, but he discarded the ideas when he saw how you regained your composure, he sat you down and stayed next to you rubbing your back for a couple more minutes, silent so as not to force you to speak until you felt ready.

"I'm sorry for making a scene over something so stupid, I just had a bad day."

"No, it's okay, at least you feel better now, right?"

"Yes, thank you Saitama."

With a new, much more cheerful mood, you lay down on Saitama hoping that at least your sleep would not be interrupted while you snuggled with him, nothing could go wrong tomorrow if it was your day off.

#opm #one punch man #one punch man x reader #reader insert #request #Saitama #saitama x reader #sfw #one punch man scenario #reader is not specified so...#male reader #fem reader #gn reader

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tremendouscreationperson · 4 months ago

Text

Logan x Reader pt.8

Not me and my mate watching Deadpool and Wolverine again

I forgot how mean and scrungally he is

I need him

<< Part 7 Part 9 >> Masterlist

Babygirl: party on saturday?

Y/N: Wade? Is this you?

Y/N: Did ya change your name on my phone?

Babygirl: shshsh

Babygirl: saturday?

Babygirl: party?

Babygirl: you?

Babygirl: normal?

Y/N: Yeah I'm not crazy if that's what ya mean

Babygirl: okie make sure wolvie knows

Babygirl: wear something nice

Babygirl: i like hearing you two at it

Y/N: Perve

“Why are you frowning?” Logan questioned, lowly. He was sitting on the sofa between you and Laura, the 2002 Scooby Doo movie playing on TV. You loved that damn dog.

The three of you had spent so much time together it was really sweet. Laura did still sleep on your bed whilst you claimed Logan's but after her therapy session yesterday she had asked you to sleep next to her - her nightmares were back - and, of course, you agreed. You felt really bad slipping into your bed because you essentially abandoned her on the second night.

“I'm sorry.” You stroked her hair. “I know the first night wasn't my fault but I've spent the whole time in Logan's bed.”

“It's okay.” She spoke and you could see she held no resentment. “I'm normally okay.”

“Well, you make sure you keep asking if you want a bed buddy.”

The bedroom door knocked and Logan quickly popped his head round. “‘didn't say night.”

That was a lie. He had said night.

The man walked to your side of the bed and bent to give you a quick kiss. You scratched the scruff on his cheeks and looked up at him. “Good night Logan.”

“Night, beautiful.”

He then leaned over you, his - barely, covered by a vest - pecs hovered by face and briefly kissed Laura's crown.

She accepted the kiss with a smile. “Night.”

“Night bub.” He ruffled her hair.

Logan hesitated for a second but did exit. You could tell he was worried. If Laura asked you she must've been scared. He also told you that he hadn't had a good night's sleep before sleeping next to you, so perhaps that was part of it. Maybe he was going to miss you being at his side.

“Wade is texting me every single emoji.” You whispered back, turning the screen, ping, elephant. Ping, arrow. Ping, music notes.

“Why-”

“I dunno.” You laughed. “But he says the party is back on this Saturday.”

Logan placed his hand out and you handed him the phone.

Y/N: stop harassing her or I'll break your face

Watching Logan type with his nails was hilarious. Laura had told the tech he wanted stiletto - the type she got - they weren't massively long but the shape was causing problems. Everything he's been doing has been made harder because of them.

Babygirl: promises promises

“I love your nails.” You gushed.

He displayed his fingers for you. One hand was yellow with a blue ring finger, his other hand was blue with a yellow ring finger. “I'm getting used to them.”

You held his hand, delicately moving it to see the glitter shine. “If they're hassling you, we can cut and file them to a better shape.”

“I like the challenge.” The hand you held was lightning quick and flipped positions. He pulled your hand to his and kissed the back of it. “Did you like the colour I chose?”

“Course I did.” You leaned your temple against his shoulder, hand still captured in his, and watched Scooby and Shaggy argue.

“No, Scooby Doo, your mum eats cat poop!”

Laura laughed at that, a full body laugh, deep from her stomach.

You were organising some of your things in Logan's room when it fell on the floor. Dedicating a bedside table and half of the wardrobe to yourself was easy because he already seemed to do that. Only using his half of his furniture.

You folded your jeans and placed them into the enclosed drawers in the wardrobe.

Logan's footsteps wandered into the bedroom. Usually heavy due to his skeleton but now they were light. You suppose it was a good thing this building was empty because the downstairs neighbours wouldn't like you.

“You alright?” You ask over your shoulder, tucking the drawer closed.

“Yeah.” He replied watching you neaten up the hangers.

He observed you potter about, sitting on the edge of the bed. You made his home yours. It was nice. He liked seeing your things intermingled. It felt real. This felt real and good and he was happy. He knew he didn't deserve this but he would grab ahold of it as long as possible. He would be happy and content.

Well, until his eyes caught something on the floor.

It sat face down just under the bed frame. Logan scooped it up and found it was a Polaroid. You were so young, smiling wide, one eye shut in a wink. Your hair was shorter, styled and you were wearing make-up. The top of a silky red dress visible on your shoulders. Next to you was him. He looked younger, his hair was longer, fluffier. He was grinning from ear to ear, one hand in the frame doing ‘devil horns’ whilst his other held two beers. He was wearing a black button down.

It was clearly a party.

You both were clearly having a good time.

“What was the occasion?” Came out of his mouth before he could stop it.

You glanced up and saw him looking at your Polaroid. Where had he got that? “It...it was Beast’s birthday.” You spoke, diplomatically, taking a seat next to him. “Rogue decided to throw a banger. W-I got quite drunk.”

“You look amazing.” You really did. There was a carefree aura surrounding you and you seemed to glow.

“Thank you.” When you had looked at this in the Void you didn't usually focus on yourself but you did look good. Better than you did now. "It's the makeu-"

"No, it's not." He vowed with an air of finality.

You didn't argue back, instead just thinking about how you wouldn't even know how to do makeup nowadays, all the women you saw were gorgeous. Their skin shone and they had sculpted cheeks.

"You are beautiful." He had told you this practically everyday but right now, sitting on the bed with him, gazing at an old vibrant version of yourself, you believed the words. Believed they were true, even if it was just to him.

“Thank you." Your hand found his arm. "You know, you can't see them but I loved the earrings I had on. Yo-” Cutting yourself off before you could act more of a fool.

“What?” He encouraged.

“Logan brought me them.”

He noticed the melancholy flicker in your eye. “What was he like?”

"Like you." You smirked up at him. “Sweet like you.”

“Longer hair.” His thumb traced the strands.

“I know, I loved the long hair, little kitty ears.” You giggled to yourself.

He saw the delight on your face, the scrunch of your eyes and wide grin. Immediately deciding to grow out his hair.

Dinner was actually really nice. Gambit had told you to come to his and he promised the best Cajun food you'd ever had.

He had decorated his apartment like any young bachelor. He'd painted the room a dark grey and accessorised with light colours. He had a white sofa and rugs and curtains. The TV was the centre of attention, underneath was a playstation with various game cases. You should really take Laura to IKEA or Home Depot, let her choose a paint or a bedspread or even buy her some posters.

“Like what you've done with the place.” You patted his back as he washed his hands.

“Thankin’ you ‘ere.” He flashed you a grin, towelling his hands dry.

“It smells lovely.” You glanced at the food. There was a pan sizzling and veg boiling. “What you making?”

“Jambalaya, cornbread ‘n greens, mon ami.” He smiled. “I don't remember ‘lot about ‘fore the Void but when I cook’ere this I feel a’ home.”

That was genuinely sweet, you felt a tug in your chest. “I'm so glad you're sharing this with us.”

“Ain't much.” He shrugged. “Bu’ it good.”

You both turned to the others, “Reckon Blade’ll have some?”

“I'll make a plate.”

You hummed. The Dhampir could consume food but it did nothing for him, it held no nutritional value which is why you guys ate the scavenged food and had to create the ‘feeding system’. “He might try it.”

“Sup bitches!” Wade and Al entered.

“Ah, mi amor.” Gambit opened his arms for Al.

Wade karate chopped between them. “Back off Magic Mike.”

Al shoved Wade to the side and slipped into Gambit's arms.

Wade dramatically rolled his eyes, slumping over to you. “Why do my friends leave me?”

“No one's left you.” You pat his head. “You alright? How was your day?”

Wade sniffed the food, finding a spoon and taste testing the Jambalaya. “Wo-hooah, that'll blow nips off.” He offered you the spoon, you declined, watching him expertly flick it into the sink. “Day was alright. I've been meeting with the Avengers. They do not like this bitch. Also Spiderman is young. I am not that way inclined. I'm looking more to an Andrew Garfield type.”

“Young?” You scrunched your face. “He wasn'- I guess that's another way this universe is different.”

Wade shrugged and skipped to the sofa, jumping over the back and landing right next to Blade.

“Oh, possum. How’s hunting Vampires? Need any help? I'm not sure we were friends last time but I'm willing to try again.”

There were two sofas and on the other was El and Laura, Gambit led Al over to it and the girls scooted up.

Logan was sipping a beer standing by the girls. He wore his low waisted boot cut jeans and a vest. Ugh. Seeing him casually in this outfit was fine, but haloed against the TV light, one leg cocked, was something else entirely. Why was he so good looking?

You wanted nothing more than to get on your knees and undo that stupidly large belt.

Logan stopped mid sip to blink over to you. His eyes raked up your body and he smirked over the bottle, mouthing ‘later’.

How did he know you were looking at him? Could he feel it? You watched him, moving yourself closer to the group - feeling the slightest slick between your legs - and you realised. Fuck. He could smell you.

Cou-could the others?!

Blade?

LAURA?

Could they smell your arousal?

Well, they'd certainly sense your panic. Calm down.

You sincerely hoped they couldn't and tried to calm yourself. Think of anything apart from him. Apart from his body. Fuck. Apart from his dick. FUCK. Apart from him, you can do it. I believe in you.

Apricots?

Good girl. God that's what he calls you.

The seat you took was a breakfast bar stool, pulled from the kitchen counter, placing it in-between each sofa.

“‘e’ere ready in a’ouple minutes.” Gambit informed the group.

The table was set so there were no jobs for anyone to do so you all just sat and chatted. Talking about stuff and nothing. Literally wasting what time you had. You could waste time.

You know you were becoming a broken record but you still couldn't believe everyone could just- just waste time.

Gambit announced the food was ready and you all settled at the table. It was hardly large enough for everyone and El had kindly brought her chairs in to accommodate everyone but you all made it work.

Gambit was at one end of the table and Wade at the other. Al, Blade and Laura on one side. You, Logan and El at the other.

“I jus’ wanna say a few words.” Gambit finished pouring the wine.

“Please.” Wade sassed.

He raised his glass. “No’ we all togethe’ I jus’ wanna ‘member those lost.” He took a deep breath. “Johnny.” Wade coughed. “Erik. Matt. Frank.”

“Whistler.” Blade carried on. “Safron.”

“Reed and Sue.” El tipped her head. "Victor."

You smiled at Gambit. “Anna Marie.” She had briefly caught his eye and helped you for a moment before her and Erik were killed. You knew he liked her. He told her to call him Remy, no one else did.

“My dad.” Laura’s voice was barely above a whisper. Her eyes were glued to Logan, brows pulled.

“Jean, Storm, Scott, Hank, Charles.” Logan's knuckles whitened.

Al nodded. “Deuce.”

“Deuce?” Wade questioned. “Your dog?”

“He was my eyes.” She shrugged. “I miss him.”

“Not as much as I miss Cable.” Wade starred off distractedly into the distance. “He was kinky.”

With that the speeches ended and you all tucked in.

It was scrumptious.

Absolutely brilliant.

You loved everything Gambit made and you definitely weren't the only one.

Bowls were emptied quickly, being filled with second and third helpings.

Once dinner was done you were sitting just idly chatting again when Logan placed his hand on your thigh.

Maybe it was the two glasses of wine you had - hadn't consumed alcohol in years - or the fact that he was fucking gorgeous but your legs not-so-subtly opened. You hadn't meant to, your body just merely responding to him.

Logan hummed in approval, patting your thigh before he rubbed it.

“So, Y/N, do you think you'll come with me to the gym tomorrow?” El asked, completely unaware.

“I was thinking of meeting you there.” You recalled the earlier conversation. “It's a quick walk and I haven't been out by myself so that might be good for me.”

Logan's hand slipped further, closer to where you wanted him most.

“I usually get there for eleven, leave at two but I'll probably hang about a little longer. Introduce you to Natalie.” She had told you about her gym friend and you were so happy for her. She deserved someone other than your broken family to talk to.

You all meandered back to the sofas, full and happy. Gambit gave you the choice Alien or Ghostbusters and it was decided that you'd watch the latter.

The final credits rolled along, you and Wade singing the tune very out of tune - singing the instrumential part ‘beeeeyneewneeewwwnewnewnenenew’ too.

Goodnights were quick. Everyone got a hug and a see you tomorrow.

Laura hesitated at her front door though, watching you head for Logan's. “Are you sleeping in there?”

“No.” You answered immediately. “No. I'll sleep with you baby.” How stupid were you to think she'd be alright. She had had an awful therapy session yesterday and needed you, she wasn't going to magically get better. She needed time. “My things are in here though, Hun, I'll get ready and meet you.”

She smiled small and let you leave.

Logan was on you immediately, bear hugging you from behind. “How long we got?”

You chuckled. “Not long enough Mr.” Extracting yourself from his arms, mirroring his earlier taunt. “Later.”

He grumbled but watched you get ready for bed. You hopped in and out of the shower - warning him to stay away - and began washing your face at the sink.

He watched you perform your ablutions, unobstructed by the nails.

“Why is it easier for you?”

You raised a brow. “Huh?”

“The nails.”

“I'm not sure, could be the shape? I think I had them done once for a wedding when I was younger.” A thought slipped through your mind and right out of your mouth. “You're like Victor.”

Logan guffawed. “He could suck his back in. Came in handy wh- wait- we will have to file these.”

“Why?” You squeezed toothpaste onto your toothbrush and began brushing your teeth.

“Well, these ones anyway.” Logan had separated his middle and ring fingers. Ah. That's why.

You decided to play coy, with an innocent “Why?”

“You know why.” He winked.

“There's a file in that draw, get the clippers and I'll help if you want. It won't take long.” You spoke over the toothbrush, taking time to spit.

He didn't comment on your hasty response, eager to avoid a future obstruction. Logan produced the items and waited for you to finish brushing your teeth. He sat on the lip of the bath. These apartments were brilliant because they had a bath and shower! You loved the choice!

You were precise in clipping them both and then made delicate work of filing, trying ever so hard to not destroy the paint job.

Logan sat patiently watching you work. The small frown on your face adorable.

He really liked you.

He knew that was childish.

But he really really did.

“Done.” You grinned proudly. “Can't wait to try them out.”

He hummed, taking ahold of your hips. “Why wait?”

A shaky breath left your lips but you were strong. “I'll see you tomorrow.” Kissing his nose. “Promise.”

You made a quick exit and entered Laura's front door. She was in bed waiting for you.

You tucked Laura into the covers before nestling in next to her.

The nightmares had returned, you had eased her to sleep yesterday. Being able to shush the problems away before they woke her was a blessing, you'd had to get good at that in the Void. Your Logan used to twitch and thrash about in his sleep, Laura does the same, you wondered if this Logan did also. Most likely. If you live as long as them you have a million ghosts hovering over you.

Laura fought sleep, pretending to watch a rerun of Law and Order. She'd become accustomed to watching TV in bed and you had to agree it was the way to go.

You never truly understand the show because you zoned in and out of slumber but the storylines were basic enough to grasp.

Laura spasmed next to you, rousing you from the light dozing. The TV was still on, telemarketers selling unnecessary products, casting a low light for you to see she was covered in a sheen of sweat. Her face was twitching and her shoulders were tense.

“Laura, baby?” You whispered. She usually responded to your voice alone.

Nothing eased her, instead she snarled.

“Laura.” You spoke more firmly. “Laura, I'm going to place a hand on your shoulder.” Again, that usually worked. This time, though, her eyes sprung open and she punched you in the gut.

You gasped, feeling more pain than a punch. It was sharp. Ah fuck.

“Laura.” You fought to keep your voice even.

Her eyes were blown wide and her mouth hung open.

“Laura don-” She retracted the claws.

Fuck!

Now the real trouble began.

You kept a hand on your side, creating a field around the wound to keep pressure on it. “Laura. Baby. It's okay.” You reached out to grab her hand but she scurried away. Clamouring off the bed and into the corner of the room, she shook with unshed tears

“Laura.” You didn't want to panic her but you needed her to focus. You needed her in the room with you. “Laura, I need you to get Logan.”

She spluttered, covering her mouth, and nodded frantically. Sprinting away.

You were alone.

Laying in bed.

Holding yourself together.

Shit.

This would stain.

You heard crashing and yelling before Logan stormed into the bedroom. The door flung so hard it came off the hinges.

“Baby.” He was immediately at your side.

“Logan.” You smiled in relief.

“Don't just stand there, call 911!” He yelled at Laura.

“Hey.” You frowned. “Don't be mean.

Logan snarled and ripped the phone from her hands. He dialed a number which was more than three and placed the phone to his ear, using both hands to hold your side. "It's me. I need the cradle. I don't fucking care. You owe me. Yeah this is my favour. Fuck off and help."

The phone was flung to the side and he smiled down.

"Help is coming, beautiful."

You tried to suppress a cough but that didn't work, blood spitting out of your mouth.

"What the fuck did you do?!" Logan growled over his shoulder.

You couldn't see Laura but knew he was talking to her. "Lo-logan." You warned.

"Fucking trouble."

He hadn't been like this with you. Hadn't been this angry. Hadn't swore so much.

"Stop." You ordered, vision blurring. "Logan?"

"I'm here." He promised.

You blunk and the room was different. Lighter. There were annoying led lights flashing past. You were moving. Your view was slightly obstructed due to Logan still being at your side. He was jogging, you could tell because of the way his hair bounced.

"Your hair." Your voice was muffled, restricted. Hands flying to your face to find there was a mask attached to your nose and mouth.

"Leave it on baby."

You grumbled but dropped your arm. Gosh it was an effort to move.

You were tired.

Why were you so tired?

How could you get to this level of tiredness?

Weren't you asleep a second ago?

These questions didn't matter because you found yourself easing back into a dreamless sleep.

Part 9

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Again not 100% if all ze tags be tagging

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felassan · 4 days ago

Text

David Gaider on Shale, under a cut for length:

"Oops! I realized I'd moved on from DAO but missed one of the companions I'd written. Which checks out, honestly, because I almost didn't write Shale and, even after I'd written her, she almost didn't happen anyhow. Then she did. Prepare yourself for... PIGEON QUEST. 🦤 So... I'm wracking my brain, but I don't recall how Shale began. I have this vague memory of us wanting a "weird" party member who didn't conform to the normal classes (this was back when Dog didn't need to be in the party), and I think my mind drifted to an old indie comic character named Concrete."

"Now, your reaction to that is probably "who?" That's OK. When I explain that HK-47 in KotOR was inspired by an old Canadian TV show called the Littlest Hobo I get the same perplexed response. 😅 In short: Concrete was just a regular dude. Who happened to also be a walking hulk of rock. Cue hi-jinx. The problem here is I don't remember whether the Concrete thing was part of the original inspiration or something I thought of at the point when I started writing the character. Because I didn't, at first. That was later. Shale was initially taken on by Jay Turner, then one of our junior writers. Jay had an idea to make Shale more of a robot, an emotionless automoton killer... think HK-47, but without the layer of sarcasm. I was leery, and told Jay he'd have to be very careful. "Emotionless" can very quickly turn into "boring", after all, unless you're VERY careful. But Jay was determined. Sigh. This was a fail on my part, as his lead. There's been a couple of times in my career when I've let a junior convince me with their enthusiasm to take on something my experience said they shouldn't. And then watch their confidence crumble despite every effort I made to reassure them it was OK. This was one of those times. Jay, no idea if you'll read this but: I'm sorry. Even an experienced writer would have found that a daunting challenge. Tonia, my other Big Fail on a similar situation in DAI: I'm sorry. Both times, I should have known. You did your best, but I set you up to fail. 😔"

"Jay did his best, and this version of Shale was certainly interesting... but, when he was done, it was one of those peer reviews where every writer had that look of "I'm REALLY sorry to say this..." It felt flat. Jay tried numerous revisions, but the issue wasn't his ability - it was the concept. I only allowed my writers a certain number of tries before I take it away. This hearkens back to an earlier time at Bio when writers would hack away at something that wasn't working 6, 7, 8 times or more until finally their soul was dust. Mike Laidlaw can attest. Revision isn't always the answer. So I moved (a much relieved, I think) Jay onto something else, and the question arose: what do we do with Shale? Do we cut it? It was already very late. Then Shale dropped in my lap. I don't remember if it was me refusing to let it go or maybe Brent (Knowles, Creative Director) giving it to me. I suspect it was the latter, because I recall being a bit bitter about the whole thing. WHAT am I going to do with this character? At the time, they'd moved me out of the writers pit to instead be in a big office with the other leads. I had this corner desk by a window (yay) with an awful view (ugh) What was so awful about it? It looked out onto the neighbouring roof, where there was only an HVAC unit to see. In the winter, pigeons would gather around it. They pooped all over everything - there was this alcove around the access door, right? The pigeons roosted there and it was POOP FAUCET city."

"Not only that, the pigeons used the HVAC like some kind of sex den. Angry, ugly pigeon sex. The only respite was when a hawk would appear and the pigeons scattered. Then I'd get maybe a day when there was a single pigeon corpse, like an exploded ball of down, to act as a scarecrow. Good days, those. What does any of this have to do with Shale? Well, there's me, staring out the window trying desperately to think what I'm going to do. But I CAN'T stare out the window because, gross. But what else am I going to stare at while I think? It was making me furious. I hated those pigeons SO SO MUCH. And then it hit me: Shale is basically an animated statue, right? Something that pigeons are rather notorious for also gathering on? And so I wrote. I wrote like the angry, angry wind. I had zero time to do this so it was basically me vomiting all my annoyance at everything into a single character. Not that it helped much. There was a battle going on over Shale - first, as I recall, it was the art team. They were going to make every doorway in the game EXTRA HUGE because they were worried that Shale was too large and might clip. So, yes, let's alter the whole world to fix that. Good idea. 🙃 Eventually, they compromised by making Shale smaller. Sten-sized. Or Brent went Akira mode, but I don't really know. This was a battle happening above my level. Yet Shale got cut anyhow. There wasn't time to do her abilities and we were short on cinematics time. There was never enough time on DAO."

""Oh well," I thought. "That's that." I did what I could, but cut content is almost never resurrected. The idea was floated of making Shale into a DLC but I scoffed. Yeah, right! But... it happened. That's why the "almost" is there. Enough of the team liked Shale they made it happen this one time. This meant I could finish up the writing once we'd more or less wrapped DAO, and the rest of the team (cinematics, in particular, who were pressed the hardest for time) could move onto the Shale DLC once they were ready. It was supposed to come out well after release, but you know. Shenanigans. This particular shenanigan was EA deciding to sit on the finished DAO a few months in order to delay the release. Why? Again, not my level. To get closer to Christmas, maybe, or maybe for sim ship. It did mean Shale ended up being ready for release day. Unexpected confluence of events, honestly. Cue some fans getting upset that "cut content" was sold to them separately, which... fair, I guess? The alternative would have been that Shale was simply cut, period, and it just worked out this way but... yes, fair. This was back when DLC was the main beef of hardcore gamers. Oh, the good old days. Overall? I have a soft spot for Shale. She has no soft spot for anyone, being... you know... made of rock. It's why I put her in Asunder, and why she was also going to be in the - apparently now notorious for its Fenris murder - cancelled fourth DA novel. Also, if you're a pigeon fan: not sorry. 😇"

[source thread]

#dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #fenris #the fenaissance #gore cw

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