#i wanted to add a bit of into the woods as well
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That one ask describing Fulgrim and Magnus's girlfriends got me thinking: given their personalities, what would each primarch find most attractive in a woman?
I like to keep stuff vague so anyone can feel like they're 'desired' and all that, but lets see! Obviously all this can change and this is just how im thinking atm, i don't want anyone to think that like. This is how i think of them forever and fuck off if you aren't like this lol.
I think guys like Guilliman, Corvus, Lorgar, Mortarion, Sanguinius, all first and foremost would like someone who's more like, i dunno whats the word, chaste? They would love to see elegant dresses and cute makeup things like that. Internally you can be however you want, but externally even if it's a facade the sight of a well spoken lady in a pretty gown does it for them.
Horus, Russ, Khan, would like someone who a bit more colorful and spunky. If you don't run off from a party cause you were bored and come back with your skirt in tatters and makeup smeared from playing around in the woods they don't care. They all love a huge smile also.
I can't really think of much more atm but i'm sure i could add on at some point.
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Your guide to perfume layering
1. Simmilar + similar
To highlight a note of your preference combine two fragrances that have it present in their olfactory pyramid. This won’t change the scent much just amplify it your favorite aspects of it. Example: Bianco latte with vanilla 28, two vanilla fragrances (although the first one is a lighter fluffy vanilla and the other a darker boozy vanilla) or Bianco latte with Dama Bianca (my personal favorite combo) to create the perfect sweet and delicate vanilla . Or if you want something with rose + rose you can combine Delina with Delina exclusif of Delina with Roses vanille or even Delina with intense cafe since they all have that rose accord.
2. Complex + simple
I have two types of simple perfumes that work well for anything. The first being “simple” straightforward vanilla scents like Bianco latte to add a touch of sweetness to another type of fragrance like wood, ouds, and florals. This really helps with exploring other types of fragrances and slowly leaving your comfort zone. I talk about Bianco latte a lot since it’s one that I feel can wear everyday just rotating what I’ll combine with it. If you want other vanilla suggestions here’s a little list: Vanilla 28 (this one was actually created to be layered with other Kayali fragrances), commodity milk, vanilla skin, vanilla bourbon, Madagascar vanilla, Dulce, cloud, happy dust and tihota). Another type of scent that I use to layer with everything is a “second skin” scent like a simple clean musk scent like dedcool milk, white rice, glossier you, not a perfume, Rosie, l’eau papier, 11 11. This will add a background of cleanliness to whatever other scent you are wearing. If a fragrance has two notes you detect well like you can choose one aspect to enhance. Example cherry and oud like in “invite only” by Kayali I can mix it with love fest burning cherry to accentuate the cherry or amplify the oud by adding oud for greatness
4. Minimize what you don’t care for
For example, if you live in a hotter climate and you think it’s not appropriate to wear that sweet perfume you can add something citrus forward to give it a bit of tanginess and balance it out. I do this with one of my favorite combos La vie est belle l’eclat and CK IN 2 U
3. Layer well known acords
If you want to be really artsy and act like a perfumer you can layer perfumes that are common in accords
Examples
Fruity + floral
Floral + fresh
Saffron + leather
Rose + lychee
Green + citrus
Mossy + citrus
Tea + lactonic
Lactonic + coffee
Final tip: I find it easier to layer fragrances that are simpler or designer fragrances because they are blended together to be simple enough where you can understand them where niche fragrances can sometimes have so much going on that is hard to classify on a simple category and it’s easy to make them clash with something making them harder to layer.
#personal#glow up#it girl#itgirl#that girl#level up#personal development#perfumes#perfume#fragrance#beauty
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Girls in Red
Wonderland
Savannah
Completely Under Your Love
What’s Real and What’s Not
Sandy Skies Ahead
"Ok, the mirror should be all fixed. You know what to do, Yuu," Crowley says, sitting in a chair while reading a romance novel.
"I hope you come and get me if I'm in trouble," I sneer, annoyed by Crowley's lack of caring for my wellbeing.
"You'll be fine. Besides, Ace and Deuce already entered before you."
"They what?! Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"
"I was being oh so kind and wanted to surprise you! Who wouldn't want friends helping them out?"
"In case you've forgotten, I have almost died there, sir! You know what, never mind! I'll find them on our own! Come on, Grim!"
Grim and I angrily go in the mirror and land on the bright green grass, wearing red cloaks. My hair is a rose red, while Grim has red in the places where blue usually is.
"Oh, cool, we're Rose Red! My mom used to tell me about how she was Snow White's sister that everyone left out!" I squeal, looking at her red locks. "I've got to take a picture of this."
Grim hands me the camera Crowley gave me, and we take a selfie in their new forms. I put the photo in a nice place where it will stay and venture through the woods to find the Evil Queen's castle. After an hour of going through bushes, vines, and logs, we find the Evil Queen's castle. It's bigger than usually pictured, and the well is shiny and clean.
"Woah, this place is amazing!" I squeal, dusting myself off.
"Snow White, go see who's at the door?!" The Evil Queen yells, making Grim and I think of running away.
Neige, known as Snow White, trots down the stairs and hugs me.
"I'm so glad you're back! I'd thought you'd never return from your travels! Tell me, how was it?!" Neige questions, spinning around and hugging me, Rose Red, his sister.
"It was fun! I saw a lot of magical things! Tell me, how is stepmother?" I ask, following Neige up the stairs.
"She's-she's fine. Stepmother has been on edge lately, but we've gotten along better recently. Come on! I have to show you a surprise we made!" Neige exclaims, running up the stairs and going to the Evil Queen's room.
I follow behind and glance at the purple decor around the room. But the most intriguing part was the blood splatter elegantly hidden behind a violet curtain. I tiptoe into the room while holding Grim and find a bloody sight. A young white man with brown hair and noble blue clothing is splayed across the table with his stomach cut open and guts spilling out. His eyes are lifeless but have the eternal look of pleading for help. I back away, knocking over a vase, gaining the attention of Neige and his stepmother.
"We killed him for you," Neige says, touching my shoulder.
"He was looking for you so he could take you away to his kingdom. You have to understand why we did this," The Evil Queen adds, wrapping his arms around my waist.
"No! He wasn't coming for me! He was coming for you, Snow!" I scream, pushing them off of you.
"Why does that matter? I like staying here with my stepmother. I like staying here with you. We don't need anyone else," Neige calmly says, stepping toward me.
God! I go into this story expecting everything to be normal, but instead, I get Norman Bates and his evil stepmother!
"I thought you two hated each other!" I scream, going behind the dead prince.
"Not anymore! I’ve realized there’s more to the world than beauty! And that’s love!” Vil says, making me shiver in disgust.
"I hope you mean love in a platonic way," I groan, trying not to gag. "Oh God, why couldn't I have a story with characters that act normally!"
"Please don't leave. We've only just begun to your presence," Vil pleads, his heels clicking more as he walks toward me.
Neige circles in from the other direction leaving me nowhere to go. Nowhere to go but down, that is! I hold onto Grim tight and leap out the tower window, trying to grasp the vines for a soft and hopefully painless fall. I grab the thorniest part of the vine, inches above the ground. I recoil my hand, rose-red blood going everywhere, and flee for the woods. As I go into the woods, the thorns and vines seem to circle in until I find a cottage.
"Come out, dearest! You can't hide from us for long! You'll never survive in these woods in the dark!" Vil yells, his voice sounding like an old wicked wizard's.
I run to the cottage, lock the door behind her, and hide underneath a small bed. She stays there as the daylight wanes and the woods begin to get a bit wilder.
"Wow, these woods are truly something else," I say, noticing the ground-shaking footsteps of a giant or large beast. "You can hear people talking and the magic gathering all at once."
The cottage door suddenly slams open and hurried footsteps go to a bed next to me. A girl with auburn with dark red hair and a red cape slides underneath a bed accompanied by a lovely gray wolf. Their green eyes look at me, and she flashes a nervous but friendly smile.
"Nice red cape," She compliments, taking down her hood.
"Thank you. Say, are you hiding from someone as well?" I ask, stroking Grim's back as he sleeps.
"It's not the Big Bad Wolf this time. I made a couple of giants mad while trying to help this baker couple break a curse. My friend, Jack, I think he killed a giant's husband, and now the family wants revenge. But what about you? What are you running from?" The girl asks, huddling her knees.
"I was visiting my stepmother and sister-you'll probably know them-the Evil Queen and Snow White. Everything was going well until I found the prince on a table covered in blood, and his stomach split. And to think I thought my sister loved him," I say, still in shock that Snow White and the Evil Queen killed the prince. "Turns out they get along too well and want me to stay in that tower as well.”
"Really? I thought the Evil Queen didn't like Snow? Crazy how things change so fast. My name's Blanchette, but most people call me Little Red Riding Hood. Nice to meet you, now what's yours?"
"My name's Rose Red. Any idea how to get out of these woods?"
"No idea, but most brilliant ideas come in the midst of darkness. Come, it's best we travel now while the giants head toward the kingdom."
Blanchette gets up with me and travels through the woods in the darkness. Our arms are together as we skip through the woods. A man with a blonde bob suddenly appears in front of us, offering his services.
"Oh, Mr. Huntsman, you've appeared again! Off to kill some more beasts?" Blanchette asks, smiling at Rook, the Huntsman.
"No, no. A queen and her stepdaughter have caught my eye. No person, never mind, two would be caught dead in the woods at this time of night," Rook replies, giving a creepy smile.
"Well, we'll be sure to yell for help if we spot them. Good day, sir!" Blanchette says, quickly skipping forward to get away from Rook.
Even though they were feet away, I could still feel Rook's eyes boring through me. The path begins to clear with fewer vines surrounding the road. The road gets darker, and soon, we encounter a black canyon.
"I guess this it?" Blanchette asks, throwing a rock into the darkness only to hear silence. "There's got to be a way across."
"I think we have bigger problems, way bigger problems!" I exclaim, pointing at the giants, Neige and Vil, walking toward us.
"Oh no," Blanchette says, staring at the giant. "Huntsman, if you're around! Now would be a great time to help!"
"Found you!" Neige and Vil say, running towards me.
I make a last-minute duck and Neige and Vil jump into the darkness. Their screams get softer and softer until no one can hear anything except a gentle thud. An arrow hits a giant in the eye, and the two others come tumbling into the dark canyon. Their bodies create a bridge to the other side, letting Little Red and Rose Red(Yuu/me) travel to the brighter side of the woods where the sun rises. We, the two girls in red run across the giant's back, leaving the woods together.
"I made it! We made it!" Blanchette squeals, hugging me while spinning around. "I hope I see you again!"
"Goodbye!" I say, hugging Blanchette back and not letting go. "Oh, wait! Let's take a picture!"
I pull out my ghost camera and take a picture of her and Blanchette. The morning sun washes over the girls, bringing a classic fairytale end to the story.
Grim and I appear outside the Dark Mirror, but with two keys instead of one.
"Ooh! Look! We got a key with a red hood and a mirror!" Grim yells, pawing at my key chain.
"We got more than that, Grim! Look at this awesome cape!" I exclaim, spinning around in the red cape.
"I see you two are happy," Crowley says, getting up from the floor as if he's fallen.
"Yep!" Grim and I say together.
I take out the selfie from earlier and smile at it. I take the photo of Blanchette, myself, Grim, and Blanchette's wolf from the ghost camera, putting it into her cape's pocket. Grim and I skip out of the Mirror Chamber and back to Ramshackle, happy as one can be.
3rd POV
Meanwhile, Ace and Deuce come out of the Mirror Chamber traumatized by what they’ve seen.
“I had no idea fairytales were so brutal!” Ace cries, helping Deuce steady his balance.
“Between chasing Cinderella and getting rid of the giants I’m quite tired of fairytales. What happened with Little Red anyway?” Deuce replies, hobbling out of the room.
“Who knows,” Ace responds.
#twisted wonderland#twst wonderland#twst fairytale jumper au#vil schoenheit#neige leblanche#i wanted to add a bit of into the woods as well#which is making me think of a really good idea for another fanfic
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WOODLAND Ranch
Hello hello! 🐎
Welcome to Woodland Ranch! During this collection, we well go ranch/rustic but with a little bit of cozyness and elegance at some point !
I will add some build pieces and buy pieces each month as I don't have as many time as I would like to to create an entire build set in one month, so lets get some pieces every month!
You will now have 31 pieces to decorate the bedroom, and nice windows, closed or opened versions! You also have wooden panneling, wood and painted version. Same swatches for the panneling and flooring, in case you want a color block room! Speaking of flooring, there are two flooring, and one is made to be a ceiling item, with little beams like the panneling!
You can find the items by searching for WOODLAND RANCH or Pierisim in game.
Some items share the same textures so make sure to have the packages finishing by "texture" in your mod folder :)
All base game compatible.
unmerged and merged version available.
public release 15 of September.
DOWNLAOD
#maxis match#ts4#ts4cc#pierisim#ts4 maxis match#pierisim cc#ts4 cc maxis match#ts4 download#ts4 cc finds#ts4 finds#ts4ccmm#ts4 cc#ts4 custom content#ts4 cc mm#sims 4 mmcc#mmcc#ts4 mm#sims 4 maxis match#s4 maxis match#sims 4 maxis cc
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In previous years I've tried uprooting small fir trees in my woods to use as Christmas trees, making sure to be gentle in the process and keep as much of their root system as I could, but when I replanted them in the woods later it just never worked. The trees didn't appreciate being treated like this, so last year I didn't even try replanting my Christmas tree and just fed it to the llamas (who did appreciate.)
I meant to do the same this year, and on my to-do list this week I had "cut a Christmas tree" and "get rid of 10m2 of broom plants" (this is on my to-do list in perpetuity. They grow so rampantly, if I didn't fight back there would be no pasture left.)
^ But then after I went and cut a bunch of horrible brooms I thought, well this is absurd, I'm going to kill a perfectly nice fir tree that I have no beef with, to have something green in my living-room for Christmas, when I could humiliate my plant nemesis by festooning its slain offspring with tinsel? I mean, shrubs are green. They fit the bill. I bet with a star on top they could pass for a Christmas tree.
At first I tried to cut a tall and large broom, then poke holes in its trunk with my drill to stick smaller broom branches in there like this: \o/ to give it a rough Christmas tree shape. It didn't work. Brooms as it turns out are extremely dense and fibrous and my drill didn't like drilling into them one bit.
So I lowered my expectations, and started gathering a big bouquet of younger brooms (the only positive aspect of broom invasiveness is that I have an infinite number of shrubs to experiment on. I cut a half dozen of them to try and drill holes into them and by the time I gave up, another two dozen had grown back in their place). I tied up my broom bouquet into something vaguely reminiscent of a fir and, I mean, with a star, it sort of looks the part?
I had to do the tying-up part several times, because the pretty and festive golden string I initially used was too weak. This bouquet of broom branches may look placid and easygoing in photographs, but when tied together tightly, it is determined to free itself.
But I managed to tame it using hay bale string. It didn't look happy with its fate, but I mean, it's a broom shrub. Its only ambition in life is to conquer as much pasture territory as possible and add it to its broom empire. It does not want to be a decorative plant in a living-room.
Take any historical figure who was mainly known as a ruthless conqueror and try to picture turning him into a Christmas tree. He won't look happy about it.
I ended up making two Christmas Brooms, one for the greenhouse and one for my living-room. The greenhouse one was originally meant for the living-room, but it was made up of particularly obstinate Pampe-like branches and I was worried one of my cats would poke it and the "tree" would suddenly break its chains in an explosion of vegetal triumph and traumatise the cat.
It may look like a peaceful Christmas Yew in the below pic, but don't underestimate its very strong desire to free itself from even the tough hay bale string, which forced me to use my garlands to tie it up some more, wrapping them around the "tree" less loosely and festively than usual. But I put my biggest star on top and that means it looks like a Christmas tree. A Christmas tree with a restraining order.
This tree is held together with tinsel, threats, and Christmas magic.
In the dark and from afar you really can't tell it's a bunch of unruly invasive shrubs tied together <3 And here's the much thinner and therefore less angry version in my living-room:
It was tilting to the left somewhat worryingly so I put a heavy stuffed hedgehog at the bottom to stabilise it, and a mountain goat at the top to dissuade it. All hands on deck. They both look somewhat petrified, like they are begging the faux-tree to remain a tree for the duration of the holidays...
Thus ends my Christmas Broom journey. It was a bit of a pain to set up but at least an innocent fir out there got to escape a grim fate (devoured by llamas), and a small gang of invasive shrubs get to be looked at with approval and joy for the first time in their life. It's a win-win.
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Eddie blinks. Once. Twice. And a third time for good measure. The scene before him doesn't change. Steve Harrington stands off to the side of the lunch table, behind Jeff and Frankie who have both gone still as statues like they think if they don't move, King Steve won't see them.
"Uh, what?" Eddie finds himself saying, against his own will. He heard Harrington the first time, doesn't need or want him to repeat himself, but his disbelief seems to have won out against his grudge for all jocks and his indifference to Steve Harrington in particular.
Harrington's face pinches, like he's three seconds away from rolling his eyes. He doesn't do that, though, which Eddie will give him one brownie point for. "I asked if you had a minute to talk." Eddie's taking away his brownie point because Steve 'asks' in a way that sounds more like a demand.
Hearing the question and or demand a second time doesn't lower Eddie's hackles, but it does pique his curiosity. He drums his fingers atop his lunchbox, thinking it over. He wishes he could say he's pretending to think about it before he tells Harrington to fuck off, but the truth is he actually is thinking about it.
What could Harrington possibly have to say to him? They very much do not run in the same circles. Eddie only talks business at the picnic table past the edge of the woods out back and everyone who buys from him knows that. They share several classes, since they're both seniors, but everyone knows Eddie's on a track to not graduate (again) so he can't possibly be coming to discuss Mrs. Click's homework assignment.
"Sure. Should we go elsewhere or...?" Eddie trails off, lifting a hand to wave in a circle in Steve's direction, questioning.
Steve looks over his shoulder, back towards the side of the cafeteria taken up by the 'popular' crowd. When Steve turns his face back, he looks- well, kind of sad for a moment before it's smoothed over with indifference.
Interesting.
"No. It's probably good that the rest of your friends hear it anyway," Steve answers.
Jeff's eyebrows rise to his hairline, and Frankie frowns as his eyebrows raise at the same time, showing an expression of interest. Eddie's got no idea what Gareth's face is doing because Eddie can't see him unless he wants to turn his face away, but he's certain it's probably a glare of some sort.
Eddie leans back in his chair, wiggling like he's getting extra comfortable before he says, "Well, alright Harrington. Shoot."
"I'm graduating this year, so I just wanted to give you a heads up for next year. I tried to curb the bullying, but I know it still happened. So, since I'm not going to be here to watch out for that, you're gonna wanna up your," Steve gestures to all of Eddie, "everything."
He knew Steve curbed the bullying a bit, heard the confirmation of that last year from Jason Carver and Tommy Hagan, when he'd stepped in to save Gareth. Or rather, Gareth had come flying in to save him and then Eddie had to save Gareth- well, the details don't matter really.
"My everything?" Eddie asks, more confused than angry. He thinks he should be angry. Harrington has all but outright said he doesn't think Eddie's going to graduate with him, after all. But no. The main emotion now is confusion.
"Yeah. Your, y'know, freakinesss or whatever. Be more of it."
"Be more of a freak?" It's fascinating, that Harrington just keeps talking like he thinks anyone at this table care for his opinion.
"Yeah!" Harrington says, cheery like he thinks that Eddie's agreed with him somehow, complete with a stupid snap of his fingers that turns into a finger gun pointed at Eddie. "You've already got this like unapproachable mad dog kind of look about you, most of the JV team is already scared of you. Just like, up that a bit more and they'll probably steer clear of you and your friends." Then Harrington frowns deep, looking around the table of nerds and dorks before looking down at the top of Gareth's head to add, "well. Except probably curly here. No offense, but you seem an easy target."
"Fuck off," Gareth growls, because of everyone at the table, Gareth does have the most bite. (Most bark goes to Eddie himself). Eddie's more prone to run from a problem than engage in it, unlike Gareth, who he's had to pull off of a few people this year.
"Or not," Harrington retracts his previous statement and Eddie will grant the man another brownie point, which brings the total up to one.
"Good to know my reputation precedes me," Eddie grins, wild and a bit manic.
Harrington is unphased. "Yeah! Do that more. I think it really freaks Jason out and he's most likely to take the captain slot next year, so if you get him afraid of you, the rest of the team'll fall in line and leave you alone too. I think he's super religious, so like, lean into the satanic panic thing people are up in arms about and next year will be a breeze. And-"
Eddie lifts a hand, a motion for Harrington to stop talking. It surprised him a little that Harrington does. Even more interesting. "Stop me if I'm wrong here, Harrington, but are you suggesting that I become the bully?"
Harrington's mouth opens and closes a few times before his face pinches again. Instead of looking like he's going to roll his eyes and be bitchy, Harrington looks confused and then like he's deep in thought. An uncomfortable amount of awkward silence falls over there table, but it's just when Eddie's about to break that silence that Harrington finally speaks. "No. I'm saying just like, be you but bigger. Like, you don't even gotta look in the team's direction. If you're just more of a freak than you usually are, they'll steer clear without the bullying."
"You sure know how to compliment a guy," Eddie deadpans. He's not even upset that Steve's called him a freak. He's spent the majority of his high school career cultivating that outlook. He wasn't just a freak, he was The Freak.
Now a look crosses Harrington's face. One Eddie's not sure he's interpreting correctly. If he had to take a guess, he'd say the look was calculating, knowing, in a way that Eddie doesn't think Harrington could actually achieve. Then it's gone, replaced with the bitchy, eye-rolling look Eddie's used to seeing, and Harrington says, "I haven't said anything untrue."
Hmm. The most interesting thing yet. Eddie might not be graduating (again) but he's not dumb. He didn't survive this far in his life, with a father like his, without learning to read people. He wasn't as good as he wanted to be at reading people last year, but he's definitely good enough know to think that, maybe, just maybe, Harrington also knows a thing or two about cultivating a public perception. Making sure people only see a certain side of you.
"Alright," is what Eddie answers, "I'll take what you've said under advisement."
"Uh. Okay," Harrington says before he just walks away. Conversation over.
"Well," Jeff says, "that was strange."
"Very," Eddie agrees as he watches Harrington walk away, tracking him until the cafeteria door slams shut behind him when he exits.
Eddie has always wanted to up the ante, so to speak. Jump on a cafeteria table and rant about capitalism and organized sports. He never has before but next year seems like a great time to try.
#steddie#my fic#set in steve's senior year between s2 and s3 towards the end of that school year#pushing my 'Steve wasn't a bully he was just self-absorbed and bitchy' agenda#flight of icarus compliant#steve is the reason eddie has a reputation as a satanist#he thought he was using his popular kid status for good with that one honestly. how was he supposed to know s4 would happen?#steve can be emotionally mature AND a bitch
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oh my god they're engaged to be engaged...
(also this is entirely separate from the izzyguana series fyi, but my god I have drawn their little island so many times by now)
(ID in alt and under cut)
ID: 1a. Wide shot of Stede and Ed's ramshackle house on a hill of long grass, a forested mountain sliding into the sea behind them as the sun peeks above the waves, painting them orange and yellow. Some work has been put into the house since they found it: the holes in the roof have been boarded over or covered with tarp, a rickety porch railing and staircase off the left side have been built on from scraps, oil lamps have been hung on each corner, and an addition on the right side is in progress, rocks stacked on the wood-slat roof and tarps hanging from unfinished walls. Planks of wood, tools, and fishing poles are leaned up against the porch, the path to the house has been cleared out and defined by stones and shells, and a wooden sign out front has the words "Best Little Inn By The Sea! +fishing equipment" carved into it. Stede and Ed, wearing a teal blouse with brown leather trousers and purple tee with black leather trousers respectively, are standing on the porch and looking out over the land, arms around each others waist. Stede raises his arm in a wave and shouts, "Great to see you two! Come again any time!" In the foreground, Pete and Lucius are walking down the path away from the house, looking tired. Pete has one arm around Lucius's shoulders and his eyes are closed, head listing to the side. Lucius covers his mouth as he yawns, lifting the other to throw a halfhearted wave over his shoulder. 1b. Waist-up in profile of Stede and Ed on the porch, sunrise behind them. Closest to the viewer, Stede stares out after their guests, hand lowering, smile fading to something a little bittersweet. Ed leans into Stede, free hand in his pants pocket, and rests his head in the crook of his neck as he follows Stede's gaze with a thoughtful smile. Ed asks, "You ever think about that for us?" 1c. Repeat. Stede's hand drops further, wrist dangling, as he turns his face toward Ed with a bewildered smile. "What?" Ed straightens from his cuddle, embarrassed, but keeps his right hand on Stede's waist. His left gestures randomly as he scrunches up his face, avoiding Stede's gaze. He explains, "Y'know...the matie-monie thing, whatever."
2a. Zoom out slightly; Stede takes a step back toward the house to face Ed as he pivots with his back toward the yard. They are still connected waist-to-hand. Stede plants his free hand on his hip with a smug little smirk and says, "Well I certainly hope that's not your proposal." Ed waves his free hand in a 'stop' motion, flustered as he meets his partner's eyes, and splutters "Wha- no! No, mate, I just... 'M having a dialogue." 2b. Repeat, zoom in. Ed dips his chin to look up at Stede through his lashes, red-faced and accepting defeat as he mumbles, "...How would you want it to go, though? Hypothetically." Stede giggles helplessly, free hand leaving his hip to rest fingertips on Ed's chest. 2c. Repeat, the background cutting out in favor of the sunrise occurring between them. They are almost forehead-to forehead, both of Stede's hands now pressed to Ed's chest and idly playing with the tips of his hair. Ed stares at his face with hooded eyes. Stede smiles, gaze lowered to focus on his hands, and says "Oh, I don't know. A bit of romance, you know. Dazzle." 2d. Repeat, zoom in to bust, background now mottled oranges and yellows. Ed raises his head to look past Stede with a frown, brow furrowed in confusion as he repeats blankly, "Dazzle." Stede hums idly to himself, concentrating on petting Ed's chest. 2e. Repeat. Stede lifts his head with a little smile, putting them nose-to-nose and adds, "I wouldn't say no to some fireworks." Ed flusters at the pointed reminder of their first time, cheeks turning red and a wobbly smile creeping across his face.
3a. Repeat. Stede asks, "What about you?" Ed leans back from their embrace, smile turning incredulous as he repeats, "Me?!" 3b. Waist up of Ed as he turns, sunrise at his back, to lean his left arm against the porch railing. He glances over the yard with a resigned little frown, fiddling with a piece of his hair with his right hand. He replies, "I dunno. Never really thought about it." 3c. Chest up of Stede as he mirrors Ed's pose with a fond if slightly amused smile, stairs and forest behind him. Offscreen, Ed continues, "Bet you had a whole scrapbook of ideas, eh?" 3d. Repeat. Stede straightens with a "Well!" and turns his body to face the house. 3e. Knees-up from the house POV as both men lean against the porch railing, the yard, ocean, and brightening sky beginning to streak itself with orange beyond. Stede is facing the viewer, back to the yard, leaning with his elbows braced on the railing. He aims his gaze to the side with a bit of a pained smile and says, "When Mary and I were engaged, a scrapbook wouldn't have been much use." Ed is turned toward Stede, left elbow propped on the railing. He scowls and sticks out his tongue at mention of Mary. 3f. Repeat. Stede turns his head toward Ed, who quickly tucks his petty tongue back in his mouth and schools his expression into one of interest. Stede continues, "Everything had been decided for us already. Never really got to the proposal part."
4a. Repeat. Ed turns his body more fully toward Stede, folding his arms on the railing and leaning his head over them with a warm smile. Stede raises his eyebrows in surprise and goes slightly pink as Ed says, "I'll have to make it really good, then." 4b. Stede turns his body toward Ed, left arm sliding against the railing behind him and right hand cupping Ed's chin as he leans closer, nose to nose. Ed's eyes hood, looking at Stede's mouth as is curls into a loving smile. Stede responds, "Can't wait." 4c. Repeat. Ed suddenly goes pale and blurts out, "You'll say yes, though, right?" Stede freezes in surprise, lips puckered in preparation of a kiss. 4d. Repeat. Stede throws his head back in a loud bark of laughter, straightening up and turning fully toward Ed to cup his cheek in his right hand and his shoulder with the other. Ed aims an embarrassed, besotted smile at him as Stede replies, "Ed, of course! Who could say no to you?"
5a. Repeat, both now in profile. The orange and yellow light of the sunrise is slowly spreading across the sky from the left. Ed straightens up from his lean to bring their foreheads together, still a bit red-cheeked and with a nervous edge to his smile as he lowers his gaze. He says, "You can say no if you want, though." Stede smiles at him with every ounce of tenderness he has, hands firm on his cheek and shoulder. He replies, "There's nothing I want more than to say yes to you, Ed. Permanent ink, remember?" 5b. Repeat. Stede moves his right hand from Ed's cheek to hook around his back, tugging him closer as he leans himself back. Ed stumbles forward with a helpless grin, cheeks even redder, bracing himself with his right hand on Stede's chest. When their eyes meet, Stede's smile turns teasing and faux-sinister, continuing, "You're stuck with me regardless. Foreverrr~" 5c. Repeat, larger and brighter, as Stede and Ed finally come together in an affirming kiss, the land behind them retreating to allow the sea and sky to fill the background. The sun finally breaches the horizon, sending glitter sparkling across the waves and gilding the pair in warm golden light. Ed's right hand is cupping the side of Stede's neck, thumb tracing through his sideburns, and Stede's right is hooked fully around his shoulders, cushioned in his soft hair. They are both smiling into the kiss, unhurried and in harmony.
6a. Repeat as they pull back from the kiss just far enough to meet each other's gaze, arms still around each other, Ed's right hand brushing Stede's cheek and Stede's buried in the back of Ed's hair. Ed smirks flirtatiously, eyes hooded, and says, "You know... I hear there's a traditional engagement sex sabbatical, too." Stede matches his expression, left hand sliding down Ed's shoulder to press against his lower back. Stede replies playfully, "Oh, is there? I suppose I can plan that part, then." 6b. Repeat. Ed brings his left hand up to mirror his right, cupping both of Stede's cheeks, and arches up on his toes to lean over Stede with a teasing grin. His movement forces Stede to arch his back in the first motions of a dip, hands briefly flying free of their grip on his future fiance to try to catch his balance. Their lips a centimeter apart, Ed hums, "Mmm, gimme a rehearsal, first." Stede tosses his head back with a giggle in response, eyes closed, cheeks pink. Hearts float above their heads. 6c. Shot at the bottom of the hill Stede and Ed are stationed on, the packed-dirt path to the house curving upward in the background, the stones and shells now more conservatively scattered. Amidst the tall grass and tropical plants lining the way are handmade wooden signs shaped like arrows pointing the way to the inn. Words carved into them say "this way!" and "best inn!" Pete and Lucius are in the foreground, walking down the hill towards the viewer, Pete's right arm still looped around his husband's shoulders. They still look very tired with dark circles beneath their eyes - Pete still hasn't opened his. Lucius has, barely, and is scowling his way forward with a furrowed brow, declaring, "We are leaving them the worst review." Pete nods solemnly. Text nearby points to them and says 'kept up all night by noises'. Pink hearts and exclamation points spill out behind them from the bend in the path, echoing the lovey-dovey noises from above that must have made their stay so insufferable. /end ID
#ofmd#blackbonnet#gentlebeard#lupete#petelucius#mlm#stede bonnet#ed teach#lucius spriggs#black pete#ofmd s2#ofmd season 2#our flag means death#my art#fanart#fan comic#image described
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fire and the thud.
pairings: wednesday x fem!reader
word count: 7683
warnings: smut, 18+. knives, grave digging, swearing, wednesday almost kills someone, fingering, kissing, lesbian sex (all characters are 18+)
summary: your mother, larissa, was good friends with morticia back in their days at nevermore. when you and wednesday were born, you were practically attached to the hip. but, your father wanted you to live with him for a while, leaving you and wednesday without contact until now. you’d come back from visiting your father in england to find that wednesday had been enrolled at nevermore.
a/n: this fanfic has really been through some shit, changed the title and outcome so many times but i’ve finally settled on this. apologies in advance for any errors and also the length
MASTERLIST
The heavy oak doors of Nevermore creak as you push them open, the familiar scent of old wood and faint lavender filling your senses. The school looks almost exactly the same as when you left it—high arches, dark stone corridors, the peculiar, warm-yet-foreboding atmosphere that clings to every corner. You never expected to be back so soon, certainly not so suddenly, but here you are. And it feels strange, like returning to some half-forgotten dream.
You adjust the strap of your bag on your shoulder, peering around the entrance hall. Somewhere above, the great clock ticks in its steady, methodical rhythm, echoing faintly down the halls. You’re looking for your mom, the Headmistress herself, but she’s nowhere in sight just yet. You smirk a little, wondering if she’s busy welcoming another batch of outcasts to her beloved school, as she likes to call them.
Then you hear footsteps, a soft, deliberate sound against the stone floor, and look up—freezing for just a second as your gaze lands on her.
Wednesday stands there, her face as pale and expressionless as ever, eyes watching you with an intensity you remember all too well. She hasn’t changed one bit, from the dark braids draped over her shoulders to the sharp, calculating gaze that seems to see right through you. She’s grown older, of course, taller maybe, but she’s exactly as you remember.
And you’d know her anywhere. After all, you practically grew up together—your mother, Larissa, and Morticia Addams were ‘best friends’ back in their Nevermore days. Some might say the two were as different as night and day, yet there was always a bond there, something that brought them back to each other despite the odds. And that bond, somehow, extended to you and Wednesday, two kids who had little choice but to spend time together while their mothers reconnected over tea and half-whispered memories of the past.
You take a hesitant step forward, feeling a strange swirl of nostalgia and nerves rise in your chest. “Wednesday?”
She tilts her head, her dark eyes assessing you coolly. “Back from England already?” Her voice is calm, as if no time has passed at all, like she’s still the same stoic, blunt child you remember.
“Surprise,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady, though your heart is pounding.
There’s a moment of silence, charged with the weight of all the years you’ve been apart, and yet, something about it feels natural, like slipping back into an old habit.
“You look… different,” she says finally, her gaze sharp as ever as she sizes you up. “Taller.”
“So do you,” you reply, then add with a faint grin, “Except the taller part.”
She narrows her eyes at you in a way that only Wednesday could, but it’s almost… fond. “If I remember correctly, I was always the smarter one. Height is irrelevant.”
“Glad to see your sense of humor hasn’t improved,” you shoot back, grinning. It’s strange how quickly the old rhythm returns between you both, the teasing, the barbs exchanged without any real bite. It’s as if no time has passed at all.
Wednesday raises an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. "Your sense of humor has certainly deteriorated during your time abroad."
You roll your eyes, but can't help the smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe I just needed to be back among the living dead to rediscover it."
She snorts softly, the sound oddly endearing coming from her usually stoic demeanor. "I suppose being back at Nevermore will do that to a person."
As you stand there trading barbs, you can't help but let your gaze wander over her. She's still as pale as ever, her dark hair braided tightly against her skull. But there's a new edge to her, a sharpness that wasn't there before. It's in the set of her jaw, the way she holds herself with a quiet confidence that demands attention without saying a word.
"So," you say, breaking the silence that has fallen between you. "What have you been up to since I left? Still perfecting your taxidermy skills?"
A ghost of a smile flits across her lips. "Among other things. But some secrets are best kept buried."
You can't help but laugh at that. "Fair enough. I suppose I've got a few of my own to keep under wraps."
She tilts her head, studying you with those dark, penetrating eyes. "I'm sure you do. Though I must admit, I'm curious to hear about your adventures in the land of the living."
You shrug, trying to play it off as no big deal. "Not much to tell, really. Just your standard boring English school life.”
She arches an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Somehow, I doubt that."
You sigh dramatically. "Fine, you got me. It wasn't all bad. Made some friends, learned a few things. But nothing compared to the excitement of Nevermore."
A genuine smile tugs at the corner of her mouth. "I'm glad to hear it. It would be a shame if you'd gone soft during your time away."
—
A few days have passed since your sudden return to Nevermore, and you're still adjusting to the odd juxtaposition of the familiar and the foreign. The school itself hasn't changed much, but you're older now, seeing it through different eyes. And then there's Wednesday, who seems to be everywhere you turn, her dark eyes following you like a specter.
It's late afternoon, and you're wandering through the grounds, trying to clear your head after a particularly dull history lecture. The air is crisp, the leaves crunching under your feet as you make your way towards an old oak tree.
As you approach, you see a figure already seated against the trunk, long legs stretched out, head bent over a book. Even from a distance, you recognize the shock of dark hair, the pale skin. Wednesday looks up as you draw near, her eyes narrowing slightly as she takes in your approach.
"I thought I might find you here," you say, settling yourself onto the ground beside her.
She doesn't move, just continues to stare at you, her gaze unreadable. "Did you?"
You shrug, plucking a leaf from the ground and twirling it between your fingers. "Call it intuition."
She watches the leaf spin for a moment before speaking. "I've been thinking about that day. The day you left."
You freeze, the leaf falling forgotten to the ground. You've tried not to think about that day too much, the way it felt to leave Wednesday behind, to step into a world that didn't understand you the way she did.
"Yeah?" you say, keeping your voice carefully neutral.
She nods, her eyes fixed on the horizon. "I remember standing at the window of my room, watching your car disappear into the distance. I remember thinking that I wouldn't see you again."
A lump forms in your throat, but you swallow it down. "And now here I am."
She turns to look at you then, her gaze intense. "Yes, here you are. But you're different. Older. Changed."
She falls silent then, her eyes drifting back to the distant horizon. You can see the tension in her jaw, the way her hands clench around the book in her lap. It's clear that whatever she's thinking, it's weighing on her.
Finally, she speaks, her voice low and steady. "I know we haven't spoken much since you returned. But I want you to know that... I'm glad you're back, Y/N."
The words catch you off guard, and you blink, trying to process them. Wednesday isn't exactly known for her emotional outpourings, and hearing her say those words feels... significant. Important.
Wednesday's words hang in the air between you, weighty and profound. You can feel the sincerity behind them, the depth of emotion that she usually keeps tightly locked away. It's a side of her that few people get to see, and you feel a rush of warmth in your chest at the thought that she trusts you enough to share it with you.
"I'm glad too," you say softly, meeting her gaze. "Gladder than I ever thought I'd be."
She looks away then, a faint blush coloring her pale cheeks. It's a rare sight, and you can't help but smile at the sight of it.
“Cute.”
Wednesday's blush deepens at your comment, and she shoots you a sharp glare. "I am not cute," she hisses, her voice low and dangerous. "Don't ever call me that again."
You hold up your hands in mock surrender, trying to keep the grin off your face. "Sorry, sorry. I meant 'formidable' or 'intimidating'. Those are much better descriptions of you, I'm sure."
She narrows her eyes at you, but there's a hint of something else in her gaze - a glimmer of amusement, perhaps, or maybe just a touch of affection. "You'd better believe it," she mutters, but there's no real bite to her words.
You settle back against the trunk of the tree, stretching your legs out in front of you. "So, what's new with you? Any exciting murder mysteries or occult rituals I should know about?"
Wednesday rolls her eyes, but there's a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Wouldn't you like to know? I'm afraid my secrets are safe with me."
"Damn," you sigh, feigning disappointment. "And here I thought we were friends."
She snorts softly, nudging you with her elbow. "We are friends, Y/N. But even friends have limits."
You grin at her, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest at the casual familiarity of the gesture. "Fair enough. I suppose I can respect that."
For a while, you sit in comfortable silence, watching the play of light through the leaves overhead. It's peaceful, in a way - just the two of you, lost in your own thoughts, content in each other's presence.
Wednesday's eyes drift shut for a moment, her face tilted towards the dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves above. There's a softness to her features that you rarely see, a vulnerability that she only shows when she thinks no one is looking.
She's always been like that - guarded, cautious, quick to put up walls to keep people out. But with you, she lets her guard down just a little. It's a privilege, really, to be trusted with this side of her.
You watch her, committing every detail to memory. The way her dark lashes cast shadows on her pale cheeks, the slight parting of her lips as she breathes in the crisp autumn air.
A breeze rustles the leaves above, and Wednesday's eyes flutter open, fixing you with a questioning gaze. "What are you looking at?" she asks, her voice low and suspicious.
You shake your head, grinning. "Nothing. Just enjoying the scenery."
She narrows her eyes, but there's no real anger behind it. "You're strange, Y/N. You always have been."
"And you love it," you tease, nudging her back with your shoulder.
She doesn't deny it, just shrugs and turns her attention back to the book in her lap. But you can see the hint of a smile on her lips, the way her shoulders relax just a fraction.
It's in moments like these that you realize just how much you've missed her, how much a part of your life she's always been. And as you sit there, side by side beneath the old oak tree, you can't help but feel a sense of rightness, of belonging.
Whatever the future holds, whatever challenges lie ahead, you know that you'll face them together. You and Wednesday, the odd couple, the misfits, the outcasts. Together, you can weather any storm.
“Remember our little grave digging rendezvous? There’s an abandoned graveyard in the woods… Could pay it a visit tonight.”
Wednesday's head snaps up at your suggestion, her dark eyes wide with surprise. For a moment, she just stares at you, her expression unreadable. Then, slowly, a small smile tugs at the corner of her mouth.
"I thought you'd never ask," she purrs, her voice low and conspiratorial.
You can't help but grin at her enthusiastic response. "Thought you might be too busy with your taxidermy collection to spare a night for some good old-fashioned grave robbing."
She rolls her eyes, but there's a glint of amusement in her gaze. "Please. Taxidermy is a hobby, grave robbing is a lifestyle."
You laugh, shaking your head in mock disbelief. "Of course it is. I don't know why I even asked."
Wednesday leans in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. "Meet me at midnight by the old stone wall. Don't be late."
—
The sun has long since set by the time you make your way to the rendezvous point, the old stone wall looming ominously in the darkness. You can feel the chill in the air, the way it seeps into your bones and makes your breath mist in the night. It's the perfect weather for a little grave robbing, you muse to yourself, a wicked grin tugging at your lips.
As you approach the wall, you see a familiar figure waiting for you in the shadows. Wednesday is leaning against the stone, her dark hair a stark contrast against the gray of the wall. She's wearing all black, as usual, her pale skin almost glowing in the moonlight.
"Right on time," she says as you draw near, her voice low and teasing. "I was beginning to think you'd chickened out."
You scoff, rolling your eyes. "Please. Like that would ever happen."
She pushes off the wall, falling into step beside you as you make your way towards the woods.
The forest looms ahead, an impenetrable wall of darkness that seems to swallow the moonlight whole. Wednesday leads the way, her steps sure and confident even in the pitch black. You follow close behind, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and trepidation.
As you venture deeper into the woods, the air grows colder, damper. The trees seem to press in around you, their branches reaching out like grasping fingers. You can feel the weight of the forest, the way it seems to pulse with a life of its own.
After what feels like an eternity, you break through the treeline and into a small clearing. Before you lies the graveyard, a jumble of crumbling headstones and weathered crypts. The place has an eerie stillness to it, as if the very air is holding its breath.
Wednesday grins at you, her eyes glinting with a manic light. "Welcome to our little slice of paradise," she says, gesturing grandly at the graveyard.
You stare at the graveyard, your heart racing. The crumbling headstones and weathered crypts seem to loom menacingly in the darkness, casting eerie shadows across the overgrown grass. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and decay, and you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched.
Wednesday seems oblivious to your unease, her eyes gleaming with excitement as she surveys the graveyard. "Isn't it beautiful?" she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. "All this history, all these stories, just waiting to be uncovered."
You swallow hard, trying to muster up some of her enthusiasm. "Sure," you manage, your voice coming out a little higher pitched than you intended. "Beautiful."
Wednesday turns to you, a mischievous glint in her eye. "Come on, Y/N. Where's your sense of adventure? This is what we've always dreamed of, isn't it? A chance to get our hands dirty, to delve into the unknown?"
You nod, trying to convince yourself as much as her. "You speak like a poet."
Wednesday grins at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Poetry is for the weak. I prefer the prose of the macabre."
She strides forward, her boots crunching on the dead leaves littering the ground. You hurry to keep up, your heart pounding in your chest as you weave between the headstones. Some are little more than crumbled ruins, the names and dates long since eroded away. Others stand tall and proud, their epitaphs still legible in the moonlight.
As you make your way deeper into the graveyard, you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched. The hairs on the back of your neck prickle, and you whirl around, half expecting to see some ghostly figure lurking in the shadows. But there's nothing there, just the endless rows of graves stretching out before you.
Wednesday, meanwhile, seems completely at ease. She moves through the graveyard like a cat, her steps silent and sure. Every so often, she pauses to examine a particularly interesting headstone, running her fingers over the engraved letters as if trying to read the secrets of the dead.
"Look at this one," she says, gesturing to a large, ornate tomb. "Elias Crane, died 1847. Apparently, he was a wealthy businessman. But rumor has it, he made his fortune through less than savory means."
You raise an eyebrow, intrigued despite yourself. "Such as?"
Wednesday leans in closer, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Grave robbing. Body snatching. All the things respectable society frowns upon."
You can't help but grin at that. "Sounds like our kind of guy."
Wednesday nods, a wicked glint in her eye. "Exactly. I bet he's got some fascinating stories buried with him."
You put your backpack down, pulling out a plastic spade, one that is obviously meant for kids at the beach.
Wednesday's eyes widen as you pull out the child's spade, a mix of amusement and disappointment crossing her face. "Really, Y/N? A plastic shovel? I was expecting something a bit more... professional."
She reaches into her own bag, pulling out a sleek, black shovel that looks like it could double as a weapon. "This is how you do grave robbing.”
She strides over to the nearest grave, kneeling down beside the headstone. You hurry to follow, your plastic spade feeling woefully inadequate in comparison.
"Alright, let's see what secrets Mr. Crane is hiding," Wednesday murmurs, plunging her shovel into the soft earth.
You do the same, your spade making a hollow 'thunk' as it hits the ground. Wednesday shoots you a look, one eyebrow raised in amusement.
“My shovel is cuter.”
Wednesday snorts, a wicked grin spreading across her face. "Cuter? Really? We're going for aesthetics over functionality here?"
She shakes her head, but there's no real annoyance in her voice. If anything, she seems even more excited by the challenge.
"Alright then, Y/N. Let's see what you can do with that adorable little spade of yours."
With that, she plunges her own shovel into the ground, the blade slicing through the earth with a satisfying thud. You follow suit, your plastic spade making a far less impressive noise as it scrapes against the dirt.
For a while, the only sound is the steady rhythm of shoveling, punctuated by the occasional grunt of effort. Wednesday moves with a practiced ease, her movements efficient and precise. You, on the other hand, quickly find yourself winded, your arms burning with the unfamiliar exertion.
"Come on, Y/N," Wednesday calls over her shoulder, a teasing lilt to her voice. "Put some muscle into it. We're not here to dig a hole for a potted plant."
You grit your teeth, redoubling your efforts. Slowly, painfully, the hole begins to take shape, the walls of the grave yawning open like a hungry mouth.
As you work, you can't help but steal glances at Wednesday, marveling at the way she seems so completely in her element. Her pale skin glows in the moonlight, and there's a fierce determination in her eyes that takes your breath away.
"Watch it!" Wednesday yells suddenly, and you jerk back just in time to avoid smacking your shovel against hers. You stare down into the hole, which is now deep enough for you to stand in. The wooden coffin lies below, its surface covered in a layer of dirt and debris.
Wednesday tosses her shovel aside, dropping to her knees beside the grave. She runs her hands over the coffin, tracing the intricate carvings that adorn its surface.
Wednesday's eyes shine with excitement as she runs her hands over the ancient wood, tracing the intricate carvings etched into its surface. The coffin is clearly old, the once-polished finish now dulled by centuries of exposure to the elements.
"Look at this craftsmanship," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "They just don't make them like this anymore."
You peer into the grave, your heart hammering in your chest. The idea of what lies inside the coffin is both thrilling and terrifying, a reminder of the fragility of life and the inevitability of death.
Wednesday seems oblivious to your apprehension, her attention focused solely on the task at hand. She pulls a small crowbar from her bag, wedging it between the lid of the coffin and its frame. With a grunt of effort, she pries the lid open, the ancient wood groaning in protest.
The smell that wafts up from the coffin is overwhelming - the cloying scent of decay, of earth and rot. You gag, stepping back from the edge of the grave. But Wednesday seems unaffected, leaning forward to peer inside.
"Well, well," she breathes, a note of excitement in her voice. "Looks like our friend Elias is still with us."
You swallow hard, forcing yourself to look into the coffin. The body inside is little more than a skeleton, clad in the tattered remains of a funeral suit. The flesh has long since rotted away, leaving only bones and a few scraps of leathery skin.
Wednesday reaches into the coffin, her slender fingers brushing against the yellowed bones. She lifts out a human femur, examining it with a critical eye.
"Fascinating," she murmurs, turning the bone over in her hands. "Look at the way the marrow cavity has collapsed. That suggests a prolonged period of exposure to the elements."
She carefully places the bone back inside the coffin, her expression thoughtful.
You just blink, unsure of what to do now. “Well, that was exhilarating.” You mutter, sarcasm etched in your tone.
The moonlight filters through the trees, casting an eerie glow over the graveyard. Wednesday turns to you, a mischievous glint in her dark eyes. "What's the matter, Y/N? Not quite the thrill you were hoping for?"
You can't help but smirk back at her, despite the unsettling nature of your surroundings. "Oh, I don't know. Maybe I'm just not cut out for the macabre after all."
Wednesday scoffs, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Don't be ridiculous. You're the one who suggested this little adventure in the first place."
You shrug, trying to project a nonchalance you don't quite feel. "I may have gotten carried away. But hey, at least we found something interesting, right?"
Wednesday's gaze lingers on you, her expression softening slightly. "Yeah, I guess so. Though I'm not sure what we're going to do with Elias now."
You glance back at the open coffin, a shiver running down your spine. "Maybe we should put him back? Seems only right, considering we disturbed his rest."
Wednesday nods, a ghost of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Probably for the best. Wouldn't want to deal with the wrath of a vengeful spirit."
Together, you carefully lower the coffin lid, sealing Elias back in his eternal slumber. As you brush the dirt back over the grave, you can't help but feel a sense of relief, a sudden desire to leave this place behind.
But as you turn to go, you find yourself face to face with Wednesday, her eyes wide and searching in the moonlight. For a moment, neither of you speaks, the air between you crackling with tension.
"Y/N," she breathes, her voice barely above a whisper. "There's something I've been wanting to say..."
Your heart pounds in your chest, your breath catching in your throat. You know what's coming, have known for a long time, but hearing her say it out loud is still a shock.
Before you can utter a response, Wednesday closes the distance between you, her cool fingers curling around the back of your neck. She pulls you closer, her eyes locked on yours, a swirling vortex of emotions - longing, desire, and a hint of vulnerability.
Her lips brush against yours, soft and tentative at first, then with growing confidence and passion. You melt into the kiss, your arms encircling her waist, pulling her flush against you. The world falls away, the graveyard and the dead forgotten as you lose yourself in the taste and feel of her.
Wednesday's lips are cool and sweet against yours, her tongue darting out to trace the seam of your mouth. You part your lips, granting her access, and she takes full advantage, deepening the kiss with a low moan. Your tongues dance and twine, a sensual battle for dominance that leaves you both breathless.
When she finally pulls back, you're both panting, your hearts racing in sync. Wednesday's eyes are dark with desire, her cheeks flushed a delicate pink. She rests her forehead against yours, her voice husky and low.
"I've wanted to do that for so long, Y/N. I hope I didn't misread the signs."
You chuckle softly, your fingers tangling in her silky hair. "Not at all. I've been waiting for this too."
You and Wednesday are still caught up in the afterglow of your first kiss, your bodies pressed close, when a sudden noise shatters the silence of the graveyard. It's a rustling sound, the crunch of dead leaves underfoot, and it's coming from the direction of the woods.
Wednesday's head snaps up, her eyes narrowing as she scans the treeline. "Did you hear that?" she whispers, her voice tense with suspicion.
You nod, your heart suddenly pounding in your chest. "It sounded like it came from over there."
Wednesday reaches into her bag, pulling out a small, wicked-looking knife. She hands it to you, her grip tight and urgent. "Just in case."
You take the knife, your fingers closing around the smooth handle. The blade gleams in the moonlight, its edge honed to a razor's sharpness.
Together, you creep towards the source of the noise, your footsteps muffled by the thick carpet of dead leaves. As you draw closer to the woods, you can hear the sound more clearly now - a low, guttural moan, followed by the unmistakable sound of retching.
Wednesday holds up a hand, signaling for you to stop. She points to a shadowy figure, hunched over just beyond the edge of the trees. The figure is swaying slightly, as if drunk or disoriented, and you can see the glint of a bottle in its hand.
"Looks like we've got ourselves a drunk," Wednesday murmurs, a hint of disgust in her voice. "Probably some vagrant who thought he'd find shelter in the woods."
You're about to suggest leaving the man be when he suddenly staggers forward, his eyes wide and wild as they lock onto yours. He lets out a low, animalistic growl, raising the bottle like a weapon.
"Hey, man, some of us are trying to sleep here!" he slurs, taking a stumbling step towards you. "Why don't you and your little girlfriend fuck off?"
Before you can react, Wednesday lurches forward, her hand outstretched. She aims the knife at the man's throat, her eyes narrowed.
The drunk man's eyes widen in fear as he sees the knife, his bravado evaporating like mist in the moonlight. He stumbles backwards, nearly tripping over his own feet in his haste to get away.
You move forward, your hand gripping over Wednesday’s, stopping her from going too far. “No.”
Wednesday hesitates, her grip on the knife faltering. She looks at you, confusion and frustration warring in her eyes. "What are you doing?" she hisses, her voice low and urgent. "We can't just let him get away. Who knows what he might do?"
The drunk man stumbles further back, his eyes darting between you and Wednesday. "Hey, look, I don't want any trouble, alright?" he says, his voice shaking. "I'm just trying to find a place to sleep, that's all. I didn't mean no harm."
Wednesday scoffs, her grip tightening on the knife once more. "Oh, and I suppose disturbing our private moment is no harm done? I don't think so."
The man's eyes widen in panic as he realizes the precariousness of his situation. He raises his hands in a placating gesture, the bottle still clutched in one trembling fist.
"Please, I'm sorry, I'll go, I won't bother you again, just please don't hurt me," he babbles, his words slurring together in his haste.
Wednesday's jaw clenches, her eyes narrowing to slits. She takes a step forward, the knife glinting in the moonlight.
"You should have thought of that before you interrupted us," she snarls, her voice dripping with venom.
The man's eyes dart to you, pleading for help, for mercy. You can see the terror in his gaze, the knowledge that he is completely at the mercy of these two strange girls.
“Goddamn it, Wednesday. Stop it.”
Wednesday's grip on the knife loosens slightly at your command, but she doesn't lower it. Her eyes are still fixed on the drunk man, her expression a mix of anger and contempt.
"Why should we stop?" she hisses, her voice low and dangerous. "He's just some pathetic vagrant. No one will miss him."
The man's eyes widen in fear, his body trembling as he backs away from you both. "Please," he whimpers, his voice barely above a whisper. "I don't want any trouble. I'll leave, I swear."
You step forward, gently placing a hand on Wednesday's arm. The touch is light, but the gesture is clear - a plea for her to stand down, to show mercy.
Wednesday's eyes flick to you, surprise and confusion written across her face. She's so focused on the drunk man that she hadn't expected your intervention.
"Y/N, what are you doing?" she asks, her voice a low, dangerous purr. "This man needs to be taught a lesson."
The drunk man takes another stumbling step backwards, his eyes darting between you and Wednesday in terror. He's clearly aware of the precariousness of his situation, the thin line between life and death that he's currently balancing on.
For a moment, Wednesday seems torn, her gaze flickering between you and the drunk man. You can see the conflict in her eyes, the war between her darker impulses and the bond she shares with you.
Slowly, almost reluctantly, Wednesday lowers the knife. She lets out a long, shuddering breath, her shoulders slumping slightly. "Fine," she says, her voice tight. "But if he steps out of line again, he's fair game."
The drunk man lets out a shaky sigh of relief, his body sagging with the realization that he's been spared. "Thank you," he mumbles, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I'll go, I promise. Just please, no more trouble."
He turns and staggers off into the woods, his footsteps crunching on the dead leaves. You watch him go, a sense of unease settling in your stomach.
You can't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation, a nervous energy buzzing through your veins. "Where did you even get that knife, Wednesday? I didn't realize you were packing heat on our little graveyard rendezvous."
Wednesday's lips quirk into a wry smile, her eyes glinting with mischief in the moonlight. "Always be prepared, Y/N. You never know when you might need a little... protection." She tucks the knife back into her bag with practiced ease, her movements fluid and graceful.
You shake your head, a mix of amusement and exasperation coloring your voice. "I swear, sometimes I think you're just looking for an excuse to use that thing. What would your parents say if they knew?"
Wednesday scoffs, rolling her eyes dramatically. "Please. They'd probably be proud. 'Our little girl, all grown up and ready to defend herself.' Besides, it's not like we actually used it."
You can't argue with that logic, even as a shiver runs down your spine at the thought of what might have happened if you hadn't intervened. "True enough. But maybe next time, let's stick to less... lethal forms of self-defense, hmm?"
Wednesday shrugs, her expression unrepentant. "Can't make any promises. But I'll try to keep my bloodlust in check, for your sake."
Despite the morbid humor of the situation, you can't help but feel a surge of affection for Wednesday. Her dark sense of humor, her fierce protectiveness, her willingness to embrace the macabre - it's all part of what draws you to her.
You step closer to her, your hand finding hers in the darkness. "Come on," you murmur, tugging her gently towards the edge of the graveyard. "Let's get out of here before anyone else decides to crash our party."
—
The heavy door of the dorm room creaks open, revealing the dimly lit space within. Wednesday stumbles inside, pulling you along with her. Her lips never leave yours as she kicks the door shut behind you, her hands roaming eagerly over your body.
You're lost in the moment, your senses overwhelmed by the feeling of her mouth on yours, the press of her body against yours. It's only when you feel the edge of the bed hit the back of your knees that you break the kiss, gasping for air.
Wednesday's eyes are dark with desire, her hair mussed and her lips swollen from your passionate embrace. She tugs at your shirt, her fingers fumbling with the buttons in her haste to get it off.
"Wednesday, wait," you breathe, your voice husky with need. "Are you sure about this?"
She pauses, her eyes meeting yours in the dim light. There's a flicker of uncertainty in their depths, a moment of hesitation. But then she's pressing against you again, her mouth finding yours once more.
"I've never been more sure of anything," she murmurs against your lips. "I want you, Y/N. I've wanted you for so long."
You surrender to the moment, your hands tangling in her hair as you deepen the kiss. Clothes are shed in a flurry of fabric, landing haphazardly on the floor as you tumble onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and heated skin.
A soft groan, followed by the rustle of sheets, startles you both out of your passionate haze.
"W-Wednesday?" a sleepy voice mumbles. "Is that you?"
Wednesday's eyes widen in horror, her face flushing crimson as she realizes the mistake she's made, scrambling to cover herself with the nearest piece of clothing.
“Oh, hey, Enid.” You smile, trying to appear nonchalant.
Enid sits up in her bed, rubbing her eyes sleepily. She blinks a few times, her gaze adjusting to the dim light. When she focuses on you and Wednesday, her eyes widen in surprise.
"Oh, um, hi," she stammers, her cheeks flushing pink. "I didn't realize you two were... I mean, I thought..."
There's an awkward silence, broken only by the sound of Wednesday's heavy breathing and the distant chirping of crickets outside.
Enid clears her throat, pulling the blanket up higher around her shoulders. "So, uh, are you two going to...?" She trails off, her eyes widening as she realizes the implications of her question.
Wednesday's face is beet red, her eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape. "No!" she blurts out, her voice uncharacteristically high-pitched. "We weren't going to... I mean, we weren't..."
Enid's eyes widen, her mouth falling open in shock. "Wednesday, are you... are you blushing?"
Wednesday scowls, crossing her arms defensively over her chest. "I am not blushing," she snaps, her voice tight with embarrassment. "I just... I didn't expect you to be awake at this hour."
Enid blinks, her expression softening. "It's okay, Wednesday. I'm not judging. I'm happy for you, really." She smiles, her eyes crinkling at the corners. "I always knew you had a thing for Y/N."
—
Since that night in the dorm room, things had been undeniably awkward between you and Wednesday. The air was thick with unresolved tension, the memory of passionate kisses and wandering hands lingering like a ghost in the room. You couldn't look at her without feeling a flush creep up your neck, your heart racing at the slightest brush of her fingers against yours.
Even Enid seemed to notice the change in your dynamic, her knowing smiles and raised eyebrows a constant reminder of the unspoken desire simmering beneath the surface. You tried to focus on your classes, to push aside the distracting thoughts of Wednesday's lips on yours, but it was a losing battle.
As you walked down the hallway towards your next class, your mind was miles away, replaying the events of that fateful night. Wednesday's touch, her breathless moans, the way her body had felt pressed against yours...
Suddenly, you felt a hand grab your wrist, yanking you roughly into a nearby janitor's closet. The door slammed shut behind you, plunging you into darkness. You stumbled, your heart leaping into your throat as you struggled to make out the silhouette of your attacker.
"Do you have any idea how hard it's been for me to focus on anything since that night?" a familiar voice growled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.
Your eyes adjusted to the dim light, revealing Wednesday's face, etched with a mixture of frustration and desire. She stepped closer, her body mere inches from yours, her breath hot against your cheek.
"I can't stop thinking about you, Y/N," she whispered, her voice low and urgent. "Every time I close my eyes, all I can see is your face, feel your touch..."
Her hands slid up your arms, her fingers digging into your skin as she pulled you closer. "Tell me you feel it too," she breathed, her lips brushing against your ear. "Tell me you want me as much as I want you."
You feel Wednesday's breath on your ear, her words sending a jolt of electricity through your body. The suddenness of her actions catches you off guard, but the desire in her voice is undeniable.
"I... I do," you manage to stammer, your voice barely above a whisper. "I've been thinking about you too, Wednesday. Nonstop."
Wednesday's hands slide down your sides, her touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. She presses you back against the wall, her body molding to yours in a way that makes your head spin.
"Then why haven't you done anything about it?" she demands, her voice a low growl. "Why have you been avoiding me?"
You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest. "I wasn't... I mean, I didn't think..."
Wednesday cuts you off with a searing kiss, her lips claiming yours with a hunger that takes your breath away. You melt into her, your hands tangling in her hair as you lose yourself in the sensation of her mouth on yours.
When she finally pulls away, you're both breathing hard, your chests heaving against each other. "I can't wait anymore," Wednesday pants, her eyes wild with need. "I need you, Y/N. Right here, right now."
Your mind races, the implications of her words sinking in. You're not in your dorm room, where you can take your time, explore each other at a leisurely pace. You're in a janitor's closet, surrounded by cleaning supplies and the faint scent of bleach.
But the desire in Wednesday's eyes, the way her body is pressed against yours, makes it hard to think straight. Your hands slide down to her waist, your fingers digging into her hips as you pull her closer.
"We shouldn't..." you start, even as your body betrays you, arching into her touch.
Wednesday silences you with another kiss, her tongue delving into your mouth as her hands roam over your body with a desperate urgency. "Don't think," she breathes against your lips. "Just feel."
Wednesday's hands slide under your shirt, her fingers skimming over the smooth skin of your stomach. You gasp, your back arching off the wall as she trails her touch higher, brushing against the soft swell of your breasts.
"Wednesday," you moan, your voice breathy with need. "We can't... not here..."
But even as the words leave your lips, you're arching into her touch, your body betraying your true desires. Wednesday's mouth finds your neck, her teeth grazing against your pulse point as she sucks and nips at the sensitive skin.
Your head falls back, your eyes fluttering closed as you lose yourself in the sensation. Wednesday's hands are everywhere, sliding under your clothes, mapping the curves of your body with a desperate hunger.
You take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what you're about to do. With a sudden burst of strength, you reverse your positions, pinning Wednesday against the wall with your body. She lets out a surprised gasp, her eyes widening as she looks up at you with a mix of shock and desire.
"My turn," you murmur, your voice low and commanding. Your hands slide under her shirt, your fingers skimming over the smooth expanse of her stomach. Wednesday shivers, her skin breaking out in goosebumps under your touch.
You lean in, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. Wednesday moans into your mouth, her hands fisting in your hair as she pulls you closer. Your tongues tangle together, the kiss growing more heated with each passing second.
Your hands continue their exploration, sliding up to cup Wednesday's breasts through her bra. She arches into your touch, her nipples hardening under your palms. You break the kiss, trailing your lips down her neck, your teeth grazing against her pulse point.
Wednesday's breath comes in short, sharp gasps, her body trembling with need. "Please," she whimpers, her voice barely above a whisper. "Touch me, Y/N. I need you."
Your fingers find the clasp of her bra, undoing it with a deft flick. The garment falls away, exposing her breasts to your hungry gaze. You lower your head, your tongue swirling around one hardened peak.
Wednesday cries out, her back arching off the wall as you lavish attention on her breasts. Your hands slide down her body, tugging at the waistband of her skirt.
With a swift movement, you yank the garment down, leaving Wednesday in nothing but her panties. She steps out of the pool of fabric, her legs trembling with anticipation.
Your hands slide up her thighs, your fingers hooking into the waistband of her underwear. With a slow, deliberate movement, you tug them down, revealing her most intimate parts to your eager gaze.
Wednesday is bare before you, her body laid out like a feast for the taking. You take a moment to admire her, your eyes drinking in every feature.
Wednesday's breath hitches as you drink in the sight of her, her body quivering under your appraising gaze. The air between you is electric, charged with a heady mix of desire and anticipation.
You step closer, your body pressing against hers in a delicious friction that sends sparks racing through your veins. Wednesday's hands come up to rest on your shoulders, her fingers digging into your skin as she anchors herself to you.
"Please," she breathes, her voice a desperate whimper. "I need you, Y/N. I've been dreaming of this moment for so long."
Your hand slides between her legs, your fingers brushing against the slick heat of her core. Wednesday gasps, her hips bucking forward, seeking more of your touch. You tease her, your fingers dipping just barely inside before retreating, driving her wild with need.
Wednesday's breath comes in short, sharp gasps as your fingers tease her most sensitive spots. Her hips grind against your hand, seeking more of your touch, more of the delicious friction that's building inside her.
You can feel the heat of her, the slickness coating your fingers as you work her higher and higher. Wednesday's head thrashes from side to side, her eyes squeezed shut as she loses herself in the pleasure.
"Don't stop," she whimpers, her voice a desperate plea. "Please, Y/N, don't stop."
Your fingers plunge deeper, curling inside her in a way that makes her see stars. Wednesday's back arches off the wall, her nails digging into your shoulders as she rides the wave of sensation.
You can feel her tightening around your fingers, her body tensing as she nears the edge. You double your efforts, your thumb finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of her thighs.
Wednesday's cry echoes off the walls of the small closet, her body shaking as the orgasm crashes over her. She clings to you, her nails leaving crescent-shaped marks on your skin as she rides out the waves of pleasure.
You hold her through it, your hand gentle as you help her down from the high. When she finally stills, you pull your hand away, bringing your fingers to your lips. You lick them clean, savoring the taste of her on your tongue.
The taste of Wednesday on your fingers is exquisite, a heady mix of sweet and salty that makes your head spin. You savor it for a long moment, your eyes locked with hers as you lick them clean.
Wednesday's body is still trembling from the aftershocks of her orgasm when you pull your fingers from her slick heat. The taste of her essence lingers on your tongue, a tantalizing reminder of what you've just shared.
You meet her gaze, your eyes dark with desire and satisfaction. "I should get going," you murmur, regret tinging your voice. "I don't want to be late for class."
Wednesday nods, her breath still coming in short, sharp gasps. She reaches out, her fingers tangling in your hair as she pulls you in for one last, searing kiss.
"Until next time," she whispers against your lips, her voice a promise of things to come.
—
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Not Good Enough
Author’s Note: My second job started up again, I take care of my nephew in the mornings and after school, and I've been sick!! I have about 7 WIPs right now that I know need a lot more time before they will be finished. I hope you all enjoy this story!!
Summary: You know you're ready to go on your first mission but what does Az think?
Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Warnings: a few cuss words, let me know if I need to add any :)
---
“You can’t be serious.” You shouted at the male in front of you.
“I’m the most serious I’ve ever been. And this argument is over.” He calmly stated in response.
You scoffed and looked over to Cass for help but he refused to make eye contact. Looking back at Azriel, you decided you wouldn’t give up that easy.
“You don’t get to decide when the argument is over. I’m coming with on this mission, I can help you.” You argued.
“Yes, I do get to decide that. No, you’re not coming. And no, you can’t help us. End. Of. Discussion.” He was starting to get frustrated with you.
His words only made you more mad, your temper getting the best of you.
“You’re ridiculous! You have been training me for months.. MONTHS! And you haven’t let me go on a single mission or actually see any action. This trip will be too dangerous for just the two of you. You need me to help you so why can’t you just let me come with.” You exclaimed.
“Because you’re not good enough!” Az shouted right back.
Ouch. That one hurt. Before you could compose yourself he continued.
“If you’re not fast enough, strong enough, smart enough when you’re on missions like these, you die. I was put in charge of you to train you and it is up to me to decide when you are good enough. I am telling you that you aren’t. I don’t want to hear about any of this again!” He finished his rant, his chest was heaving.
You tried to hide it but the look of hurt was clear on your face. When you glanced over at Cassian he was looking at you this time, like you were a puppy who had just been kicked. You hated it, you didn’t want sympathy.
Az noticed how much he hurt you and reached out his hand to you.
“Y/N-” He started but you backed away from his reach.
You turned around and walked away before he could try and speak to you again. Eventually Cass and Az continued to prepare for their mission and you went to your room before you could be embarrassed any further.
You couldn’t believe him, he trained you for months and always told you how well you were doing. He would tell you how you impressed him with your intelligence but now you’re not good enough? You knew you were good enough. During the meeting with the IC, when Az first announced you wouldn’t be joining him and Cass, both Feyre and Rhys looked surprised as well.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you started to pack. You gathered your weapons and your bag and slid on your gear. When Cass and Az left, you waited a bit and then quietly followed their trail. It didn't matter that Az thought so lowly of you, you were going to prove him wrong.
You knew you had to stay a little farther back so they wouldn’t notice you, so you tracked them instead. Using all of the training you’ve had, you successfully followed them and stayed hidden the whole time.
The mission was supposed to be simple. Find the creature that had been causing problems and kill it. It should be easy enough for Cass and Az so you really couldn’t understand why he refused to bring you with.
You watched as Az and Cass followed the monster into the woods, trying to catch it off guard so it would be an easy kill. You stayed hidden in the shadows behind them and to the right when you heard some shuffling. Peering to where the noise was, you saw a second creature sneaking behind the 2 Illyrians.
Before you could even blink, the first creature turned around and swung at the two. The monster behind them pounced and landed on Cassian. He managed to fight it off and was dealing with that one when you saw Az backed into a tree. The vile beast swung at him again, and sent Az flying to the ground.
You took off running straight to Az, knowing you had to save him. Right before the creature could land the killing blow, you jumped on it's back. With fairly large daggers in both hands you brought your arms down, impaling it in the head with the two blades. It died quickly and fell with you still on top of it.
Cass had already killed the other one and came over to help you roll the creature off of Az. You held your hand out to him to help him up. After just saving his life, surely he sees how well you can do your job.
“What are you doing here?!” He yelled at you, rage in his eyes.
You were stunned, you saved his life and this is how he treats you? No, maybe he was in shock still?
“I assessed the situation first, Cass was holding his own and I saw you about to be killed so I acted fast. And I effectively and efficiently eliminated the threat. I did everything right-” You explained but he cut you off.
“No, what you did was disobey my direct orders to stay home. You could have been killed! You aren’t ready to handle this yet and you just proved it by not listening to me!” He continued to yell at you.
“How about you try saying ‘thank you’, you know, for literally saving your life one minute ago.” You sneered.
It was silent while the two of you glared at each other, smoke practically shooting out of your ears before Cass stepped in.
“Listen she did just save our asses and she’s already here now. We were going to set up camp and head home tomorrow anyways so she can just stay with us.” He told Az and then looked at you, “Come on, the cabin is about 30 minutes from here. Let’s go.”
He held out his arms, insinuating you needed to let him carry you so he could fly you to the cabin. The flight went by fast and you were still pissed at the spymaster when you landed.
The three of you entered the space silently and it wasn’t until Cass said something that you realized what the problem was.
“There’s only two beds.” He stated.
“Yes, because there was only supposed to be two of us on this mission.” Az grumbled and sent a look your way.
You rolled your eyes at him and looked at Cass instead.
“It’s a long trip home tomorrow so none of us should sleep on the floor. We don’t want to have a bad back all day long, believe me I’ve been there before. So who wants to share a bed?” Cass asked with a grin.
“Let’s just get three sticks. We can pull them and whoever pulls the longest gets the bed to themselves?” You suggested.
“Pretty and smart.” Cassian replied with a wink at you.
Az let out a growl at his words and Cass held his hands up. Unbelievable, he couldn’t even let anyone else compliment me.
“Fine.” Az agreed to your plan.
You all pulled sticks and held them up. Cass quickly let out a cheer, seeing his was the longest and started getting cozy in bed. You and Az glanced at each other and painfully made your way over to the bed. You sat on the edge of the bed when the spymaster hesitated.
“No. I’m not sharing a bed with her.” Az told Cass.
“Oh grow up. You’re mad at me so you’re going to throw a tantrum? It’s just for one night, then I promise you won’t ever have to be disgusted by sharing a bed with me again.” you snapped.
“What? No.. I’m not…I just…” He trailed off, “Fine. We leave at sunrise.”
Cass nodded his head in agreement and closed his eyes to sleep. You laid down and Az slowly got into the bed next to you, making sure to stay as far away as he could. The first thing you noticed was how cold the room was. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you decided to just try to stay put, too mad to ask for something to warm you up. Eventually, you let sleep take over.
You woke up to a large hand gently shaking your shoulder.
“Come on, you’re freezing.” Az whispered to you.
“I’m fine.” You stubbornly stated.
“No, you’re not. You’re literally shivering.” He argued.
You tried to stay completely still, to stop the shaking but you were just so cold.
“You would rather freeze to death than get close to me?” He added when you didn’t respond.
You stayed silent again and his hand traveled to your waist. His other hand slid under you and he pulled you into his chest. His wings wrapped around the both of you, creating warmth and giving you instant relief. You slightly pushed back into him even more, craving his body heat and he responded by wrapping his arms around you tighter.
You were still mad at him but you would be lying if this position didn't make you blush. For a while now, you've had a bit of a crush on the Shadowsinger, which is probably why everything he said to you hurt even worse. Pushing those thoughts to the back of your head, you decided to just relax.
The two of you fell asleep that way and when you woke up, his wings were still around you but now your face was nuzzled into his chest.
“It’s been sunrise for 45 minutes now. C’mon wake her up, it’s time to go.” Cassian complained.
“Shh. She hasn’t gotten this much rest in a while. Let her sleep a little longer.” Az grumbled.
His hands were rubbing up and down your back and you desperately wanted to stay like this longer. But then you remembered how mad you were at him so you opened your eyes. You got up and started to gather your things to leave, ignoring the look on Azriel’s face.
“Morning sunshine.” Cassian smirked at you.
You flipped him off and walked past him.
“Alright, we have to walk for about two hours north, then we can fly the rest of the way.” Az told you the plan.
“I know. Don’t forget I made the whole trip here.” You spoke with a sharp edge to your tone.
“Yeah, I was going to ask you. How did you know where we were? I mean you can’t fly so how did you follow us?” Cass inquired.
“I didn’t follow you. I tracked you. I stayed hidden the entire time and using the limited knowledge I had of the mission, I figured out where you were headed. It was actually pretty easy.” You asserted.
Cassian’s eyebrows raised in awe and Azriel’s eyebrows shot down in confusion.
“No that doesn’t make sense.” Az grumbled.
“Az, she outsmarted us and saved our asses. It’s time to admit you were wrong.” Cass stuck up for you.
You gave Cass a slight nod in thanks and the three of you continued to walk home. No one spoke for the rest of the walk until it came time to fly the rest of the way. You went up to Cass but he didn’t reach for you.
“I’m sorry, I hurt myself last night fighting the creature. Az will have to fly you.” Cass explained.
You were confused because he flew you last night after the mission but you were too drained to argue. Slowly, you made your way over to Az. Before Cass took off you heard him say 'Tell her' and fly off. You gave Az a confused look and he shrugged his shoulders.
He picked you up and the two of you took off. You could see Cass ahead of you but you were far back enough that he couldn’t hear you.
“What did Cass mean?” You asked.
Az stared straight ahead and didn’t respond.
“Really? I mean you can’t even talk to me now? You’ve been so rude to-” You started.
“I was scared.” He muttered, “I was scared of you getting hurt, ok? I didn’t want you in the field because I can’t lose you. I know you’re smart and strong enough but I was.. I don’t know. It’s stupid and I’m sorry.”
“Oh.” You said dumbly.
“That’s it?! Yell at me or something, I know I was an ass. I’m so sorry.” He told you.
“I’m not going to yell at you… I understand the fear of losing someone. Why do you think I wanted to come with? When I saw that beast on top of you about to kill you…I didn’t even stop to think. I just knew I had to save you, I’ve never felt that type of fear before. If something happened to you.. I don’t even want to think about that.” You told the male holding you.
“Well, I think it’s time for me to thank you for saving my life. If you weren’t there, me and Cass would both be gone right now, so thank you.” He gently spoke.
You gave him a warm smile and held onto him just a little bit tighter. There was comfortable silence for a little bit before you heard Az clear his throat.
“Now, tell me how you really tracked us all the way there. There was a point in the journey where we went through a portal. It would’ve been impossible to track us unless you had put a spell on the portal.” Az wondered.
“Ok fine. Once you got to the portal, one of your shadows noticed me and instead of letting you know, it stayed behind. It waited for me to catch up. Then it led me to you and even silenced my steps in the woods.” You admitted.
“What?!” he spoke in shock.
He looked down and could see a little shadow curled in your hair, peeking out like a child about to get scolded.
“You little traitor!” He gasped.
“Hey don’t be mean to it! I used my resources like you taught me, it just so happened that one of your shadows was a resource to me.” You let out a small laugh.
You could see the house coming into view when all of the sudden, Az took a turn and started to head towards a mountain instead. You weren’t sure where he was going but you trusted him so you stayed quiet. He landed and set you down.
“So there is actually one more thing that I have to confess. My shadows have always liked you.” He blurted.
“Well I like them too.” You told him, confused at his confession.
“Ok that’s not all.. I also like you, a lot. Look I’m not good at this, I actually have a terrible track record but all I know is I love you. And I don’t want to mess this up.” He finally revealed the truth to you.
“That’s actually really convenient because I love you too. I’ve actually been madly in love with you for a while now.” You told him.
“I really want to kiss you right now but I’m covered in mud and gunk from the mission yesterday and I want our first kiss to be nicer than that. After we get home and get cleaned up would you like to go on a date with me? Maybe get some dinner?” He nervously asked you.
“I would love nothing more than to go out with you.” You blushed.
His smile lit up his whole face. The two of you made your way to the house and once you were cleaned up you met in the living area. Before you left for your date you wanted to mess with him a little.
“I bet you’re happy I didn’t follow your orders, huh?” You joked.
“Yeah yeah, I would have told you my true feelings eventually.” Az grumbled.
“NO YOU WOULDN’T HAVE. I HAD TO LISTEN TO YOU BITCH ABOUT YOUR FEELINGS FOR HER FOR MONTHS NOW.” Cassian screamed.
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list of things that made me scream in pjo episode 3
Percy picking grover because he trusts him not to betray him!!! THEY ARE BEST FRIENDS OK
Luke still comes off as so likable and inconspicuous that whole convo he had with percy and the shoes i just
GROVER AND THE CONSENSUS SONG I CANT
annabeth staring at the different flavors of candy in the gas station and not being able to pick and just buying all of them. Thats the annabeth we deserve
ANNABETHS KNIFE APPEARANCE ALERT and a fury is IMMEDIATELY killed
uncle ferdinand foreshadowing……………
When annabeth and percy start arguing in the woods and grover tries to change the subject by talking about his uncle and they both completely ignore him. I LOVE GROVER SO MUCH
the bickering in this episode is ON POINT by the way
like the stuff theyre arguing about makes sense. Yes i would be concerned about those things too
ESPECIALLY since theres such a focus put on trust (esp after percy learns that someone is going to betray him) and percy and annabeth are arguing about stuff theyve lied or havent told each other about???? Sorry that might be skipping ahead a bit but GOD is that the good stuff
i love that they changed how the three of them ended up going into auntie em’s because before it was a little concerning that none of them figured out it was medusa. Plus having a fury outside just adds to the tension a perfect amount i think, because it really traps them in there
all the discussion about the gods and what medusa talks to percy about in the kitchen - YES MAKE ME HATE THEM!! All of this is adding up to lukes motivations making so much sense in the end
ALSO!! Them harkening back to sallys line in the first episode when she tells percy that not all heroes look like heroes and not all monsters look like monsters - they brought it back so perfectly. Percy wanting to trust medusa because of what his mom said, medusa calling Poseidon a monster, ALL OF IT is so good
When theyre down in the basement and grover puts on the shoes and then just fucking. Flies away and disappears into the darkness yelling a little. and annabeth and percy just kind of helplessly watch him go before being like - welp i guess that plans not working. That was peak comedy
them using annabeths hat on medusa and then using it to kill alecto THEY WERE SO SMART FOR THAT!!! Also percy just the invisible severed head was a hilarious concept to me
when percy suggests burying the hat in the ground with the hat on to make sure no one bad finds it and annabeth just!!! Agrees!!! And then grover has to be like no that hats important to her its a gift from her mother!!! And then percys like well we’ll find another solution then. That whole scene was good yes i liked that
also annabeth revealing that grover was her protector too and percy asks about it and grover just changes the subject and doesnt answer. He is the KING of avoidance
also grover finally interrupting annabeth and percy when they start fighting and giving his whole speech about getting along. That wouldve felt a little cheesy and preachy and out of place from anyone else but considering grover tried to get them to sing the consensus song a few hours earlier i fully believe that he would say that
I AM IMPERTINENT
Why the fuck wasnt there a lin manuel maranda jumpscare warning. I couldve used one of those
but actually all the jokes in this episode were so on point. Like percy calling drachmas chuckie cheese tokens. And him arguing about voting on the bus. Anyways
10/10 episode i will be rewatching like eight times before next tuesday.
#Pjo#percy jackson#percy jackon and the olympians#Annabeth chase#the lightning thief#Grover underwood#percy jackson spoilers
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Second Nature [Logan Howlett]
Summary: In the freezing cold of the wild, you are saved by a man with many secrets. He takes you in, and soon you learn that you’d follow him anywhere. Takes place during The Wolverine (2013)
Warnings: does not accurately follow the events of the movie, hairy logan (heart eyes), misunderstandings
WC: 4.2k - MASTERLIST
----
Northern Canada was just as unforgiving as it was beautiful. The chilled air bit at your skin, and the vast wilderness stretched out endlessly, it was a place where few dare to venture.
It had been days since you’ve seen another soul, your only company being the towering trees and the occasional rustle of unseen creatures in the brush. You weren't not entirely defenceless as a mutant, though your powers were something you keep close to your chest.
The day started like any other—cold, silent, and solitary. You were making your way through the dense forest when you heard it: the deep, guttural growls of a pack of wolves. Your senses went on high alert as you froze, but before you could react, they were upon you.
There were too many of them. You fought as best you could, using your powers in quick, controlled bursts, but the wolves were relentless, and violent. Just as you thought you might not make it out, a figure burst through the trees. He moved with immense speed, claws extended from his hands—no, not quite claws, but something far more lethal. He tore through the wolves with an ease that spoke of years of experience, and within moments, the threat was gone.
You were left standing in the snow, gaping at the man who had just saved your life. He was wild-looking, with long, tangled hair and a thick beard, his eyes fierce and sharp. He didn’t speak at first, just looked you over, assessing mutely, before finally grunting out a rough, “You alright?”
You nodded, though your heart was still pounding from the encounter. “Yeah, thanks to you.”
“Shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said gruffly. “This place isn’t safe.”
“I can take care of myself,” you replied, though you knew full well how close you had come to an early demise. You didn’t offer any explanation for why you were out here, and he didn’t ask. Instead, he simply turned and started walking away, as if saving your life was just another day for him.
You hesitated for a moment before following him. He didn’t seem to mind, and you were curious about the man who had appeared out of nowhere. He led you back to a small, rough cabin hidden deep in the woods. It was clear he had been living here for a while—there was a worn, lived-in look to the place.
Over the next few days, you found yourself staying in that cabin. The man, who you learned was named Logan, didn’t talk much, but he didn’t seem to mind your presence either. You kept your powers hidden, mainly out of habit, but a part of you was unsure of how he would react if he knew the truth. You knew he was some sort of mutant too, but he had an air of someone who had seen too much, who carried a heavy burden, and you weren’t ready to add to that.
As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months, a quiet companionship developed between you. Logan was still rough around the edges, but there were moments when you caught glimpses of something softer beneath the surface. He was a man who had been through hell and survived, but the scars were still there, etched into his soul.
You weren’t sure when you started to think of him as a friend, but it happened slowly, in the small, unspoken ways you helped each other. He taught you things about the wilderness, how to track and hunt, while you offered a quiet presence that seemed to ease the tension in his shoulders.
Then, one day, everything changed. A woman appeared at the cabin, her hair bright red and her demeanour as sharp as a blade. Yukio, she called herself. She had come to find Logan, to tell him that his old friend Yashida was dying and wanted to see him one last time in Japan. Logan was reluctant at first, but Yukio was persistent, and eventually, he agreed.
You hadn’t expected him to invite you along, but when he turned to you with a serious look in his eyes and said, “Come with me,” you found yourself nodding before you could think about it.
----
When you arrived at the estate in Japan, Yukio immediately declared that a cleanup was in order. Logan resisted, of course, but she insisted. You were too tired to argue and knew she was right. You hadn’t had a proper bath in weeks if not months. The little tub in the cabin did barely enough to make you feel freshened up, and the idea of finally being clean was too tempting to pass up.
She led you to your separate rooms, where hot baths and fresh clothes awaited. The water was blissfully warm, and as you soaked, you felt the tension slowly ebb away. You scrubbed your skin clean, washed your hair until it felt soft and light again, and when you finally stepped out of the bath, you almost didn’t recognize yourself. The fresh clothes Yukio provided were simple yet elegant, a far cry from the rough, dirty outfit you’d been wearing for days.
After dressing, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. For the first time in a long while, you felt... pretty. It was a strange sensation after everything that had happened, and you weren’t entirely sure how to feel about it. Logan already waiting for you when you saw him. Your breath caught in your throat. His long beard was nowhere to be seen, a uniquely styled facial hair left in it’s wake. His hair was trimmed as well. His usual gruff demeanor was still there, but he looked... different. Handsome, in a way you hadn’t anticipated.
He was staring at you too, a look of surprise flickering across his face before he quickly masked it. "You clean up nice," he said lowly.
"Thanks," you replied, trying to sound casual, though you were acutely aware of the way his eyes lingered on you.
For a moment, the two of you just stood there, taking in the sight of each other. You had always thought Logan was attractive in a natural, untamed way, but seeing him like this, it made your heart stir in your chest.
Yukio interrupted your thoughts, her voice cutting through the silence. “Good. Now that you two don’t look like wild animals, we can get to work.”
----
Yukio led you and Logan through the estate’s winding paths, the sound of your footsteps muted by the soft ground. The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the garden, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to admire the beauty of the place.
Finally, you reached a large, open room where an elderly man sat in a wheelchair, his frail form dwarfed by the spaciousness of the room. Yashida’s eyes were closed, his breathing shallow and labored, but there was a sense of peace about him, as if he had come to terms with his impending death.
“Logan,” Yukio said softly, her tone respectful as she gestured for him to approach.
Logan stepped forward, his usual confidence tempered by something more subdued. He stopped a few feet from Yashida, his hands clenched at his sides as he struggled to find the right words.
“Yashida,” he eventually said, addressing the man before him. “It’s been a long time.”
Yashida’s eyes slowly opened, and when they focused on Logan, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Logan,” he rasped, his voice weak but filled with warmth. “You came.”
“Yeah,” Logan replied, his tone softening. “I came.”
Yashida’s gaze shifted to you, and you felt a strange mix of emotions as his eyes, still sharp despite his age, studied you intently. “And who is this?” he asked, his voice laced with curiosity.
“I’m just a friend,” you said, offering him a small, respectful bow. “I’m here to support Logan.”
Yashida’s eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he nodded, seemingly satisfied with your answer. “Thank you for coming,” he said, his tone sincere. “It means a great deal to me.”
Then, another figure entered the room, a young woman with delicate features and a quiet grace that immediately drew your attention. She moved with the fluidity of someone who was used to being in control, but there was a sadness in her eyes that mirrored Yashida’s.
“Mariko,” Yashida said, his voice softening as he spoke her name. “Come, meet Logan.”
Mariko stepped forward, her gaze flicking to Logan with a mixture of curiosity and caution. “Logan,” she said quietly, her voice as soft as the rustling leaves outside. “It’s an honour.”
Logan inclined his head slightly in acknowledgment, his eyes meeting hers for a brief moment before he looked away. “Likewise.”
There was an awkward silence as you stood there, feeling like an outsider in this reunion. You watched the way Mariko looked at Logan, her gaze filled with something you couldn’t quite place—respect, maybe, or perhaps a cautious admiration. Whatever it was, it made your chest tighten with an emotion you weren’t ready to examine.
“Please, sit,” Yashida said, gesturing to the cushions on the floor. “We have much to discuss.”
You sat down beside Logan, feeling the tension in the room build as Yashida began to speak, his words measured and deliberate. He spoke of his time with Logan, of the bond they had shared during the war, and of the gratitude he felt for the life Logan had given him. But there was something else in the way Yashida spoke—an underlying desperation that made you uneasy.
“I have a gift for you, Logan,” Yashida said, his eyes locking onto Logan’s with an intensity that belied his frail appearance. “A gift that will free you from your suffering.”
Logan stiffened beside you, his expression darkening. “I don’t need anything from you, Yashida,” he announced.
“But you do,” Yashida insisted, his tone growing more urgent. “You’ve lived long enough to see the world change, to see those you care about die. I can give you what you’ve always wanted—mortality.”
The room fell silent as Yashida’s words hung in the air, the weight of them pressing down on you like a physical force. You glanced at Logan, searching his face for any sign of what he was thinking, but his expression was unreadable.
“I didn’t come here for this,” Logan said after a long pause. “I came because you asked.”
Yashida’s expression faltered, a flicker of disappointment crossing his face before he nodded slowly. “Very well,” he said. “But the offer stands. Should you change your mind...”
Logan didn’t respond, his jaw clenched as he stared at the floor. You could feel the tension radiating off him, and it took everything in you not to reach out and touch his arm, to offer some kind of comfort.
----
The air was thick with the scent of incense and the soft murmur of prayers as you stood at Yashida’s funeral, surrounded by mourners dressed in black. The solemnity of the occasion hung heavy, but there was an undercurrent of tension that you couldn’t ignore. Logan was beside you, his expression unreadable, though you knew him well enough by now to sense the unease in his posture.
In that moment, your mind wandered to the days you’d spent in the Yukon, the solitude that had once been your only companion. You hadn’t ended up there by choice. No, you had been running—from a world that feared what it didn’t understand, from people who saw you as a threat. The fact that you were a mutant had always set you apart, but it was also the reason you had been hunted, feared, and ultimately driven into the wild.
You still hadn’t told Logan about your powers, not out of a lack of trust—hiding them had simply become second nature to you. But as you stood at the funeral, watching the proceedings with a growing sense of dread, you realized that your secret was about to come crashing down around you.
It happened so quickly that you barely had time to react. One moment, the funeral was proceeding as expected, and the next, the mourners were scattering in panic as a group of Yakuza thugs stormed the ceremony, their eyes locked on Mariko, Yashida’s granddaughter.
“Mariko!” Logan’s voice was a deep growl as he pushed through the crowd, his adamantium claws shooting out. You sprang into action right behind him, your heart pounding as you watched the Yakuza close in on Mariko. You knew that even though he was fast, Logan wouldn’t make it in to her in time.
Suddenly, the world seemed to slow down, and your instincts took over. Thrusting your hands out, you called for your powers and the air around you responded, swirling with a sudden, powerful gust that sent the Yakuza stumbling back. Logan's head whipped over to you, his eyes widening in shock, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t.
Fire erupted from your fingertips, a controlled burst that seared the ground between Mariko and the attackers, creating a barrier they couldn’t cross. But the attackers didn’t yield, and they regrouped quickly, readying themselves for another assault.
Logan was at your side in an instant. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I—” you faltered, the words catching in your throat as you continued to fend off the enemy. The earth beneath you trembled as you called on your powers again, sending a wave of stone and dirt crashing into the Yakuza, knocking them off their feet.
“I didn’t know how,” you finally admitted tightly, from the strain of maintaining control over the elements.
Logan’s expression was a mixture of anger and something else—something deeper. But he didn’t have time to respond before the Yakuza pressed their attack, forcing both of you to focus on the immediate threat.
Together, you and Logan fought them off, your powers weaving through the chaos as Logan’s claws tore through the ranks of the attackers. It was over in minutes, but it felt like an eternity. When the last of the Yakuza fell, you stood there, breathing hard, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins. Mariko was safe, but the damage was done. Logan turned to you, his gaze intense. “You didn’t trust me,” he said, the hurt clear in his voice.
“It wasn’t about trust,” you said quietly, lowering your hands as the last remnants of your power faded into the air. “I’ve spent my whole life hiding who I am, Logan. It’s not something I can just turn off.”
He was silent for a moment, his eyes searching yours. “I get that,” he finally said, his voice softer now. “But you knew about me––my mutation. I thought—”
“I know, and I’m sorry,” you interrupted, your voice breaking slightly. “It’s just… I didn’t want to bring attention to it. I wanted to leave it in the past.”
Logan’s expression softened, the anger fading as he listened to your words. “You don’t owe me an explanation,” he said after a moment, surprising you. “But I want you to know… I would’ve understood.”
You looked at him, seeing the sincerity in his eyes. It was strange, how this man who had saved you, who had become your friend, could look at you with such understanding, after you had hid something so important from him. “I’m sorry,” you whispered, the words heavy with the weight of everything you hadn’t said before.
He didn’t say much after, just turning and heading toward Mariko, going to check on her.
----
In the days following the incident at Yashida’s funeral, something between you and Logan shifted. It was subtle at first—an awkwardness that hadn’t been there before, a hesitation in his eyes whenever he looked at you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that things had changed, and not for the better.
Logan had started pulling away from you. At first, you thought it was because of Mariko, and his new mission—that he had simply found something else to focus on. But as the days went by, you realized that it was more than that. Logan wasn’t just distant—he was hurt. And it wouldn't take a genius to know why.
He had been wounded by your secret, by the fact that he thought you hadn’t trusted him enough to reveal your powers. You had tried to explain, to make him understand that it wasn’t about him, but the damage was done.
The distance between you pained you. You had grown to care for him deeply. It had started as friendship, a bond forged in Canada, but somewhere along the way, you knew your feelings had begun to change. You hadn’t meant to fall for him, but it happened all the same, creeping up on you like the first rays of dawn after a long, cold night.
But as you watched him pull away from you, and towards Mariko, those feelings felt like a mistake.
It wasn’t that you didn’t want Logan to be happy—far from it. You cared about him too much to wish anything but the best for him. Still, seeing the way he looked at her, the way he seemed drawn to her despite the mayhem surrounding them, made something inside you ache. You had thought that maybe, just maybe, there could be something more between you and Logan, but it was clear now that whatever you had shared was truly just a friendship. Nothing more.
And that realization hurt more than you cared to admit.
You tried to push those feelings aside, to focus on the task at hand. There was still so much to do, and Japan was far from safe. The Yakuza were remained a threat, and Yashida’s legacy was more tangled than you had ever imagined. But no matter how hard you tried to concentrate on the helping, your mind kept drifting back to Logan and Mariko.
So, you did the only thing you could—you pulled away. You gave Logan and Mariko space, leaving them to each other whenever possible. It hurt to do it, to step back when all you wanted was to be by Logan’s side, like you’d for months, but you convinced yourself it was for the best. If this was what Logan wanted, if she was who he needed, then who were you to stand in the way?
Even as you distanced yourself, you continued to help them in whatever ways you could. You were still in Japan, still part of the mission Logan got roped into, but you became a shadow, always there but never too close. You helped Mariko when she needed it, fought alongside Logan when necessary, but you never lingered, never gave him a reason to think you wanted anything more.
----
When the trip was over, and the two of you returned back to Canada, things were different. The easy companionship you had shared was strained, the unspoken tension between you making every moment feel heavy with uncertainty. You weren’t sure where you stood with Logan anymore, and it was driving you mad.
He had been quiet since your return, keeping to himself, and you had done the same, unsure of how to bridge the growing distance between you. It hurt, more than you wanted to admit, but you weren’t sure what to do about it.
You had spent the day wandering the snowy landscape, trying to clear your head, but no amount of fresh air could chase away the doubts that had settled in your mind. By the time you returned to the cabin, the sun was beginning to set. You hesitated at the door, your hand hovering over the handle as you debated whether to go inside or keep walking.
Before you could decide, the door swung open, and Logan stood there, his expression unreadable. “You’ve been gone a while,” he said, his voice rough from disuse.
“Just needed some air,” you replied quietly as you stepped inside.
Logan closed the door behind you, his eyes lingering on you for a moment. Then, “We need to talk.”
You nodded, your stomach twisting with anxiety as you followed him to the small living area. You sat on the edge of the worn couch, your hands clasped tightly in your lap as you waited for him to start.
Logan remained standing, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I’ve been thinking… about everything that happened in Japan.”
You swallowed hard, forcing yourself to meet his eyes. “So have I.”
He looked up at you then, “I don’t know how to do this,” is all he could get out.
“I know."
“I’ve been thinking about why things got so messed up between us,” Logan continued, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “And I think… I think it’s because I was hurt that you didn’t tell me about your powers, that you’re a mutant too. I took it personally, and that was wrong.”
You shook your head, “I shouldn’t have lied to you. I wasn’t trying to hurt you, Logan. I just… I didn’t know how to stop. I didn’t want to lose you.”
Logan stepped closer, his hand resting on the back of the couch as he looked down at you. “You didn’t lose me,” he said quietly. “But I think I almost lost you because I didn’t know how to deal with it. That’s why I pulled away. I didn’t want to get hurt, so I put up walls.”
“And Mariko? I mean, it's not like you need to justify anything to me, but--fuck--I...” You started, letting your words drift off. You didn't know where you were going with this, but Logan would have to be a real idiot to not catch on.
For a moment, he didn’t say anything, and it scared you. When he finally spoke, his voice was low.
“When we were in Japan… I was hurt. Not just by everything that was happening, but by what I thought was going on between us. I felt like you didn’t trust me, like you were keeping me at arm’s length, and I didn’t know how to handle that. And then there was Mariko… she was there, and I turned to her because… I don’t know, I guess I was looking for something to distract me from what I was feeling.”
You stayed silent, letting him speak.
“But it wasn’t what you think,” he affirmed. “It wasn’t about feelings, or love, or anything like that. Mariko was just… there. I was in a bad place, and she was someone who didn’t expect anything from me, who didn’t know me the way you do. We got physical, but it wasn’t real."
You blinked, trying to make sense of his words. “So, it didn’t mean anything?”
Logan shook his head. “Not the way you’re thinking. I won’t lie to you—it happened, and I’m sorry for that. But it wasn’t because I didn’t care about you,” he paused, taking a deep breath, “It was because I did, and I didn’t know how to deal with my own emotions. I made a mistake, and it hurt you, and I hate that.”
You could see the regret in his eyes, the way he was struggling to find the right words. “I thought you wanted to be with her,” you admitted, “That I was just… in the way.”
He swallowed, “You were never in the way. I pushed you away, and I’m sorry for that.”
You looked up at him. “Where does that leave us then, Logan? Should I… should I stay here? With you?”
Logan’s eyes softened, and he reached out to gently cup your face in his hand. “I want you to stay,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But only if that’s what you want too.”
You closed your eyes, leaning into his touch as a wave of relief washed over you. “I want to stay,” you whispered back, your heart pounding in your chest. “I need to know that we’re on the same page though, that this is more than just… friendship.”
His thumb brushed against your cheek. “It is,” he confirmed, “I care about you, more than I’ve cared about anyone in a long time. And I want to figure this out, whatever it is between us.”
You opened your eyes, looking up at him with a small, trembling smile. “I want that too.”
Logan let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He leaned down, nuzzling his nose with yours as he spoke, an action that nearly had your heart bursting in your chest. “Then let’s do this. No more hiding, no more running. Just us.”
“Just us,” you echoed, happy.
------
#deadpool and wolverine#deadpool movie#logan howlett fic#logan howlett#logan howlett smut#logan x reader#wolverine#x men#deadpool 3#logan howlett imagine#wolverine angst#wolverine smut#the wolverine#x men movies#marvel imagine#logan howlett angst#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x you#wolverine x you#hugh jackman#james logan howlett#mcu
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Bark bark bark awoooo
No content warnings
You’re gonna fucking combust.
Somehow, someway, this is Johnny’s fault. You’re not sure how yet, so he it isn’t fair for him to be in trouble, but you know it.
“This is your fault,” you tell him, pouting in bed — bare ass naked, but that means nothing to him, he’s a dog. He cocks his head, and you wave your (broken) vibrator at him. “I don’t know how, but it is. Is this because I wanna chop your balls off?”
His mouth closes, eyes big - like he actually understands you. In your horny delirium, you almost believe he really does.
You flop onto your back with a sigh, eyes a little wet with frustration.
It’s been two months since you last successfully got off. Your vibrator (and its replacement… and its replacement’s replacement) keep breaking, or running out of battery. The plug is defective or falls out of the socket.
Once you successfully got right to the edge - just for it to die. You almost did cry that time.
Sure, there’s your hand. But every time you try ol’ reliable a certain four-legged roommate interrupts one way or another. And when you tried to kick him out of the room, and then ignored the howling, scratching, and general drama - there was loud and rapid knocking at your door.
Like fucking clockwork. If you get anywhere at all, you never get to finish.
It wouldn’t be so bad, either. Your libido isn’t anything crazy, you don’t think. At least it wasn’t before. But now there’s Soap.
Soap who you should not be so attracted to. Who has no sense of propriety or boundaries, who murmurs the dirtiest things to you in the most public and otherwise mundane places. And he just keeps. Showing. Up.
Like he’s got a tracker on you or something. (You’ve checked, he doesn’t.)
He’s like every guilty fantasy you had as a good, studious girl back in high school. The kind of guy to grab your thigh under your parents’ dinner table and take your virginity in the back of his car. Maybe corner you by the lockers between classes to kiss you silly and drive up your absence record.
You never actually went for those boys — and perhaps gratefully, they never went for you. In romance novels, it would be a quaint little coming of age story. The stuff to swoon over. But reality was a lot scarier for you, especially with your older sister always keeping an ear out to report back to your parents and… well, yeah.
You’ve always been a firm introvert, anyway. That’s why you live out in the woods with only a dog for regular company.
But Soap. Soap is some unholy amalgamation of those innocent, shy girl fantasies turned R-rated. Like the grown-up version of those cute YA novels.
And you have no defense for it — except distrust, that is.
Soft-hearted as you are, you know you don’t do casual well. And you know that guys like Soap just like to spin you up and up until you finally give in, think the dreaded words “maybe it’ll work out” despite that rational voice in your head saying, “don’t bet on it.”
Doesn’t stop you from secretly wanting him though.
Fear is the only thing keeping you in check now. Some of it for you own feelings; of getting invested in a guy that has done nothing but treat you like a prime cut of meat. The rest of it is a genuine concern that he might be a bit dangerous. He’s so much bigger than you, visibly stronger. Has gone out of his way to make you uncomfortable (doesn’t matter that a very dark and slutty part of you liked it) and ignored your attempts at brushing him off.
Fear, unfortunately, is beginning to add to the temptation.
“I’m not going to do it,” you tell yourself, or maybe Johnny. Soap’s contact is on the screen. You don’t remember putting it into your phone, but you must have at some point. “Nope. No way.”
You slide a sideways look at Johnny, tail wagging at a steady clip.
“He’s probably a former frat boy or something, right?” you muse.
Snort.
“No, you don’t think so?” you question, sitting up. He happily crawls into your lap when you pat your thighs, chin resting on your tummy. “Nah, you’re right. Could almost imagine him beating the hell out of one for pissing him off.”
A little grumbly noise. You smile and start petting absently over his head and ears, phone forgotten now.
“This is dumb anyway,” you sigh, head tilted back to the ceiling. “You don’t like men. I couldn’t bring him back here.”
Johnny’s ears flick. You giggle and start flopping them around, making airplane noises. Eventually he huffs and starts licking at your face until you stop, complaining that you’ll need to wash off now.
—
“Fuck it.”
Johnny picks his head up, staring at you as you run a hand down your face.
“Fuck it all. I’m going to a bar. I’m getting… I dunno. Laid or something.” Thank god it’s only Johnny here. You don’t think you could live with the embarrassment of someone else hearing the way you talk.
You set your hands on your hips, nod to yourself.
“And if it happens to be Soap, then… sign from the universe, right?” You grimace a bit, striding for your bedroom. “Please don’t let him be a murderer or something…”
For once, Johnny is perfectly behaved as you get ready. He doesn’t try to lick at you when you come out of shower (freshly shaved and lotioned and everything). Sits patiently on the bed as you pick through your closet, even noses at a pretty pink dress you rarely wear but were considering for this.
He doesn’t try to bump your arms or hands while you do your makeup, just watches attentively. You choose a pretty, matching bra-panty set, apply a light spritz of perfume. Hesitate over jewelry.
“Is it normal to wear jewelry when you plan on fucking?” you wander allowed.
A little “boof” from the bed. You’ll take that as a yes.
You decide on a set of faux pearls with a gold heart pendant in the center. Not quite a choker, but high enough on your throat to suggest one. A delicate bracelet, a pair of stud earrings, and you’re just about set.
“Christ, I hate doing this alone,” you mutter, fumbling with the zip on the back of the dress.
Lastly, the shoes.
“Fuck it,” you say again. Your mantra for the evening, apparently. Wobble into a pair of heels, a bow on the outside of each ankle where you buckle them.
You pause when you’re done, giving yourself a once over in the full length mirror. Pleased with what you see. Coquettish and pretty, not necessarily bombshell sexy maybe, at least not on first glance. But the necklace, the heels, the cutouts at the waist of your dress… it’s all exactly what you wanted.
“Alright,” you breathe, tummy swooping with excitement. “I can do this… right?”
Johnny’s gotten down off the bed, is keeping a respectful distance. You appreciate it, don’t want to have to lint roll hair off yourself.
“Oh, god. What if he’s bad?” You ask, giving him a horrified look. “What if he’s been, like, compensating?”
To your shock, he stomps his paw and starts damn near howling. Carrying on and on like he’s bitching you out. You blink in shock, almost laugh — then check the time.
“Oh! Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let you starve!”
You toddle off to the kitchen and prep his dinner, scrunching your nose at the raw chicken and beef liver. He grumbles and fusses the whole way, making you laugh as you pretend to have a whole conversation about the economy with him.
“Okay, bonnie Johnny,” you coo, setting his bowl down. “Be good, okay? If I bring someone back here please don’t eat them, okay?”
More grumbles and whines and growls. You roll your eyes, blow him a kiss, and slip out the door.
You tell yourself you just need action with someone. Don’t admit to yourself that there’s really a specific someone you’re hoping to see.
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So. Now that she's home and safe and gonna be ok, I can talk about this.
I almost lost Kaiju. Christmas Day. I was woken up by a phone call from Allison, who will be referred to a LOT in this story. Allison runs the pet store where I board Kaiju. She called to tell me that Kaiju had lost a LOT of blood. (As it turns out, half her blood volume. Humans die when we lose 40%, just so you know. She lost 50%.)
There were no visible injuries, and she had passed a bloody stool. Or rather, a blood clot with some poop in it. She continued to pass only blood when they put her in the bathtub to clean her up. If I'd taken her anywhere else, that... would have been it, probably.
But Allison is an actual miracle worker and knew an emergency vet who was open- on Christmas Day- and could see reptiles. As soon as she called me, she took her to the e vet, where they gave her fluids and oxygen and got her stable. They did some x rays and found... nothing.
In fact, the e vet actually complimented me on her bone density and how nice her toe joints look. Whatever this mysterious haemorrhage was, it was in the soft tissue.
The immediate thoughts were:
Impaction
Cancer invading an artery
Aneurism
Reproductive issues
However, the emergency vet couldn't figure it out, and my vet was out of the country. The e vet consulted with a lot of vets and it was decided she'd go into Chicago Exotics for care the next day- they were willing to see her on immediate notice. Allison drove her over and they did an ultrasound... and couldn't differentiate the mass they found.
So, exploratory surgery it was.
But... she didn't have enough blood for that. She wouldn't have survived... if Allison hadn't found blood for her. Tegu donors were found, the transfusion happened, and was completely successful.
And what the surgery found was completely unexpected. No cancer. No repro issues. No typical impaction.
Instead? Weird white things in her muscles and a partial impaction that seems to be related to a reduction in her ability to properly digest. There are two possible diagnoses at this point. One is visceral gout. This is very strange because in reptiles, articular gout basically always happens first, and her kidneys are fine.
The other option? Weird, potentially cross species parasite she picked up when she was in the Everglades. Something she's likely had all her life, something that was dormant until recently.
I'll know when the pathology report comes back in a week or so.
Anyways! She is doing very well. She is alert and interested in things. She has an incredible appetite, even though she can't have solid food yet. She's on three meds, including one I have to inject. At her three week recheck, we will add a fourth- either the correct anti-parasitic or a medication to improve kidney function, depending on the diagnosis. Currently she's in a hospital cage and she hates it- she can't have any substrate because of the stitches.
The vet says it should take about three months until she makes her full blood volume. Her pack cell count should be at 35%. It was at 7% on the 26th. But by the 28th, it was at 10%. She's gonna be ok. She's tough. My little girl is a fighter, always has been. You have to be scrappy to survive in the wild.
And throughout this entire experience, everybody has told me how lovely her personality is. Through the injections and cloacal probing and everything, she never bit or even tried to. The vet didn't think she even wanted to bite. Like it wasn't a question of wanting to bite and not being strong enough- it's just not something in her behavioural repertoire. She doesn't bite because she doesn't want to. Because even at her most scared, at her most painful, she's still Kaiju, the best tegu to ever live. Love is stored in the tegu, and it continues to be stored in the tegu. We have a long road ahead of us, but she's out of the woods and is going to be ok. We both are.
Also, consider this a MAJOR plug for Curious Creatures in Chicago. I'm never going to board my animals anywhere else.
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Stress Relief
Azriel X Reader
Synopsis: Working for the Night Court has become near impossible with Azriel determined to drive you out the door but can a camping trip arranged by Rhys smooth things over.
Warnings: Angst, fluff, smut, frenemies to lovers, lots of dialogue, if you see a typo no you didn't
A/N: Hehe this kinda long but I wanted to keep the chaos to one part. I'm finding writing since Other Worlds a bit stressy so I think posting this nonsense will help with that and we can return to out regularly scheduled programming. Let me know what you think!
Requests open! (I am working on your Cass request if you see this anon👀 )
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“YN you need to fucking relax”
“I suggest that you keep quiet Azriel if you'd like to keep your head attached to your shoulders” Azriel rolled his eyes at you from the couch as you paced up and down, trusty list in hand.
“I’m just saying you’ll give yourself a heart attack”
“Hey! Do you want me to add your name to this list!”
“Az would only want to be on it if it's your To Do list” A pillow flew from alongside Azriel right at Cassian as he howled.
“I’ll relax once we get there”
“Why do you get so fucking neurotic when it comes to travelling?”
“Why are you so fucking anno-”
“Okay okay stop it you too! We promised Feyre no fighting on Rhy’s big camping trip, she’s already upset Elain won’t come, just don’t add to her stress” You and Azriel groaned like scolded children at Cassian’s words. You counted the bags again, checking off your list as you went. Azriel stood to grab his bag, coming chest to chest with you before pushing past.
“I’m flying ahead because I can’t be around her uptight ass anymore”
“Aw you look at my ass” you smiled sarcastically as Cassian laughed in the background.
-
You all finally arrived deep within the woods of the Night Court, luggage crashing down around the group. You couldn’t stop thinking that you had forgotten everything, glancing from the list to the pile repeatedly, your friends happily unpacking. The night had already begun to creep in, Azriel and you delaying the group by fighting about which was the fastest route to take. You busied yourself fixing up some of the tents as Azriel dug through the pile of bags in search of his own.
“YN, what’s the plan for us sleeping together?”
“Excuse me?” you deadpaned to Azriel.
“Sor-Sorry I meant the plan for sleeping?” he quickly corrected himself, his shadows doing their best to cover his rosie cheeks.
“Well, Feyre & Rhysand, Cassian & Nesta, Amren & Mor and then I guess you and Lucien and then I get my own tent” you beamed, shaking a sleeping bag from its case.
“Funny how that worked out isn't it” he remarked and you rolled your eyes but the group agreed to the sleeping arrangements, with further prodding for Lucien to agree.
You gathered around the fire, feasting on the fire-roasted food Cassian did his best not to cremate, trading life stories in pure unadulterated ease, everything Rhysand had wanted for this trip. You swaddled yourself deeply into your sleeping bag as the fire began to sink beneath its tinder.
“Do you regret leaving Summer Court for us YNN?”
“I think I love the Night Court more than I ever could Summer” You smiled in reply to Cassian, your eyes flashing to Rhysand briefly before he launched into his favourite Tarquin story, Azriel noticing the fleeting glance seemingly tinged with an element of sadness.
“You like it even though being an emissary to the Seasonal Courts clearly makes you want to pull your hair from your head?” Azriel whispered to you.
“You and your antics are the only thing that causes me to do that, I seriously think you need a refresher training on diplomacy” you bit back to his sharp whisper. You had shared the job with Lucien but soon found yourself taking on the brunt of the work as Lucien was lost in Elain.
“You need to stop being so uptight seriously, I think you need to be fucked or something, anything to get you to relax” Your head whipped towards him, the group laughing at Rhysand's story, choosing to ignore the two of you, assuming it was an argument. You huffed out in disgust at Azriel, he watched your chest release the full capacity of air from your lungs before taking another deep breath. You shuffled slightly in the sheet, wrapping the sleeping bag tighter around yourself and facing back towards the fire. It was then Azriel realised he was fully staring at your chest.
“I didn't…I didn't mean that I want to be the one to….fuck you…I meant …”
“Just stop talking Az” you scoffed, choosing to listen to Rhysand instead as Azriel mentally cursed himself for losing his edge over you. The fire sank until it went out, the laughter from the group lighting the forest.
“Okay, it's like 2am, time for bed kids especially if we’re going for the hike tomorrow” Rhysand stood, pulling a sleepy Feyre to her feet. The group said their good nights as you climbed into your canvas home. You stretched along the fabric floor and sank into sleep easily, tired from the day as you balled up in your opened-out sleeping bag.
-
“Hey! YNN! Wake up!”
“I swear to the Gods you better be a super polite Naga about to rip my head off otherwise you’ll wish you were” you breathed out without opening your eyes, the sound of your tent zip worse than a blaring alarm to your sleepy state.
“It’s Az, I need to sleep in here, push over” he collapsed next to you without invitation, your hand sailing outwards to clock him flat into the chest with a thud.
“Az, what the fuck? It's like 3am, get the fuck out we’re not braiding one another's hair!” you whisper-shouted at him while you sat up.
“Lucien is snoring like he’s trying to deafen me and I don’t fancy interrupting Mor and Amrens beauty sleep and as for the mates, I don’t need to explain why I don’t want to go in there” you sighed at him as he gave you a look that said he wasn’t going anywhere. You sank back into the canvas, Azriel pulling the sleeping bag from you.
“Az” you bit out.
“I’m not going to freeze to death because you’re a blanket thief”
“You’re going to find yourself on the other side of the zip if you don’t go to sleep” you said, rolling into the slack of the sleeping bag, pulling it fully from Azriel. He almost grunted at the action, catching the end and whipping it from under you, sending you rolling into the wall of the tent.
“Az!” you barked and he raised his hands up in surrender. You sank beneath the cover again, moving closer to Azriel to spread the sleeping bag more evenly. Azriels eyes fixed on the mesh vents on the tent roof, the sound of the night filling the tent.
“Do you ever think you’ll go back to the Summer Court?” Azriel broke the silence that filled the tent, you sighed before replying.
“If you keep being a prick then maybe” you deflected the question successfully.
“I’m a prick because I care” You laughed at his joking tone, rolling to your side to face him more, hands tucked in under your cheek.
“As much stress as you and Cass and your antics cause me, which is a lot might I add, I would find it very hard to leave you freaks” you half laughed, eyes still heavy.
“We’d miss you” he admitted
“I mean who would keep your secrets from one another if not me” you teased.
“What secrets?” you tapped the side of your nose lazily and Azriel nudged you slightly in annoyance at your grin.
“Fine fine emmm.... Cass is the one who told all those females in the Rita's where to find you when you were home” you yawned into a light laugh. Azriel felt annoyance grow in him at this revelation, that had caused him months of being harassed by all sorts from every walk of life.
“I swear I’m going t-”
“Just leave it Shadowsinger” you gave a small laugh, grabbing his hand as he went to leave the nest you’d both made, pulling him back down and forgetting to let go, you lost your fight to sleep then, entirely drifting back off. Azriel glanced at you sleeping peacefully next to him and found himself surprised at enjoying holding your hand beneath the sleeping bag.
Azriel stayed awake for half an hour, staring up at the canvas above him, torn between the growing pain in his shoulder and not wanting to let go of your hand. The nerves felt like they were screaming as the muscles went dead in his arm, an idea coming to him. He quickly rolled towards you while releasing your hand and grabbing the other but he greatly misjudged the distance, sending his head straight into yours. You almost immediately dropped his hand to place it on the bump growing on your head, Azriel feeling regret for waking you but more so for letting you go.
“You're such a freak Shadowsinger” You laughed half asleep before rolling in closer to him and draping your arm across his waist, pulling yourself closer to him softly, resting your head between the pillow and his chest. Azriel felt such an unfamiliar level of comfort at the movement but also a new level of confusion.
You moved from next to him then, leaning on your elbow to prop yourself up and look at him as puzzled as he looked at you.
“Sorry I-I don't know why I did that”
“Emm it’s okay YN…it was actually kinda comfortable…I’m ok-ay if you’re okay with it” he spoke the words with caution and you found a sigh of relief leave you that you didn’t know you had. You rolled away from Azriel to face the tent wall, his face slightly greying with nerves, had he been vulnerable to the wrong person? He braced for your rejection only for it not come, instead you shuffled slightly down and laid your back flat into his chest. Azriel cautiously moved his arm across your waist, only to have you catch hold of his hand and move it across faster, forgetting to release his hand again.
Azriel nestled his chin on top of your head, pulling you in as close as he could as you both tangled your legs together. He felt so entirely comforted by how close you were to him…too close he thought suddenly. He shuffled in the bed a little to try to hide the part of him betraying any sense of secrecy he had about his changing feelings towards you. You just moved back to where you were, leaving him no place to hide. Azriel felt your whole body smirk against him as you traced little circles along the back of his hand with your thumb, he hated how you were winning.
“You’re not hard for me to read Azriel” he definitely heard the smirk from you. He refused to let you win, he tried to push the embarrassment from his voice before speaking again-
“Well I hardly think that's surprising, I already told you what I think needs to happen for you to relax” he barely whispered, your body's turn to stiffen in the bed alongside him, he smiled with the point he won.
Azriel slowly moved to hover his mouth above your neck, both so still in the movement that he could almost see the hairs on your neck stand on their end. He gave little thought to his next movement, now acting on his instinct as he met your neck almost painfully softly. He kissed you there until you found your neck flexing to allow him more access. A betraying soft moan of approval escaped you as Azriel smiled into the nips he gave you, gaining a further point advantage.
You couldn’t let him hold the win for long as you began to push yourself into his growing length, a low growl escaping him before he reburied himself in your neck, more feverishly this time. Your hand wrapped tighter around his as you began to grind into him, encouraging him further. You rolled onto your back, Azriel now almost hovering over you and moved without thinking. He leaned down and met his lips with yours. Electric, you were electrifying one another. This night was going further than you both thought it would. Sex was one thing but kissing someone like that and feeling such overwhelming desire as a result was another thing. You both separated almost surprised at the waves of confusion mixed with yearning.
“I-I didn’t mean to… I shouldn’t have…” Azriel didn’t know what he was saying, almost begging you with his eyes to say anything.
“I-” you were cut off by the sound of Lucien's loud sneeze from across the fire pit causing you both to almost jump. It hit you both then what you were about to do, with all your friends mere metres away.
“Night Azriel” was all you found yourself saying before rolling back to face the wall of the tent, not taking his arm with you. Azriel cursed in his head before lying back down on the canvas. He didn’t sleep for the rest of the night, the thought of what could have been controlling his thoughts. He didn’t think you were asleep either but didn’t challenge you on it, what had you both done?
-
You rolled over to find the space next to you empty as the sun leaked in the thin canvas the next morning. You ran your hands down your face, cursing your actions from the night previous. You got dressed haphazardly, removing a mirror from your pack to braid your hair back, your eyes falling on deep maroon markings on the side of your neck. You traced them gently with your fingertips, a small smile escaping you at the memory.
“YN! Get up! We’re leaving in 10” Cassian's voice accompanied him banging on the top of your tent, chasing your smile away. You ran your hands through the loose braid, separating it out again to cover the evidence of your lapse in judgment.
You hauled yourself out through the soft door once you were dressed to find your friends all laughing at one of Cassian's stories, ready and waiting for you to set off. Your eyes landed on Azriel as he tilted his head back laughing before his eyes met yours, he almost instantly tore them from you and looked back to Cassian.
-
The group set off bounding along the mountain in total ease, Nesta winding Rhysand up ahead of you and Cassian.
“So YN…you gonna tell me why Az won’t look at you?”
“How am I supposed to read that pain in the ass’s mind?” you replied almost too quickly to him as he raised an eyebrow, catching your hand and helping you up a steeper part of the path. You looked at the back of Azriel’s head ahead of you as he lead the group along the path to the waterfall.
“Hmm likely story YN and tell me why I could have sworn I heard Az leave your tent this morning?” he couldn’t bury the teasing tone as you sighed.
“Lucien was snoring so Azriel just stayed in my tent, no big deal” You could see the thoughts race through Cassian’s grinning face, you tilted your head slightly forward, ensuring the truth was still covered by your hair.
“Interesting, I don’t know Lucien to be a snorer” He gave a small laugh as you raised your eyebrow, only getting a playful shake of the Illyrian's head in return. A sudden slap of mud met the side of Cassian's face.
“That’s for Rita’s!“ Azriel shouted back the path, his hand having just released the ball of mud.
“You told him YN!” Cassian’s head snapped to you as you howled with laughter.
“Must have slipped out?” you tried your best to lie, only to have the broad male throw you over his shoulder as you screamed in hysterics. He ran with you, the group all roaring laughing as they followed. You suddenly couldn’t feel Cassian under you as he flung you from his arms, landing with a splash into the large lake.
“Cassian! I’m going to kill you!” you shrieked, the cold water bursting through you sending power coursing. You sent a tendril of water, playfully pulling Cassian from where he stood straight into the water alongside you, the group following suit in fits of laughter, leaving Azriel to watch from the rocks. Azriels eye caught the slight glimpse of his handiwork beneath your soaked hair, a pang of pride beating through him then replaced by panic. A shadow met the side of your face, draping your hair back to cover the markings. You looked towards Azriel and found yourself laughing at the action, he returned a smile.
-
After a day of hiking and swimming and being a bunch of fools, you all came back to the campsite ready to feast on whatever you could scrounge up.
“Okay everyone, it’s time to announce the reason behind this little trip” Rhysand announced to his family gathered around the roaring fire.
“Well, as you know, YN has been with us now for some months now-”
“Unfortunately” you hit Azriel into the chest at his sarcasm.
“Anyways-” Rhysand threw a warning glance “-YN has helped to negotiate many our trade agreements and cleaned up many of our messes-” Cassian raised a glass to you at Rhysands words, the group laughing “-But anyway, I’m sorry to announce that I have failed as your High Lord in convincing her to stay with us” the group turned to face you in almost shock.
“I know everyone I said-”
“-You said you wouldn’t leave” Azriel cut across you, semblances of pain dripping from his quick words.
“I know Az but-”
“-No, you said you wouldn’t leave” his words turned to tones of anger, the group looking amongst themselves, feeling as though they were intruding.
“Yes but Az, I’m needed at home, they’re still recovering from Amarantha and Tarquin needs m-”
“-But I- I mean we need you!” He stood from the log to look down at you, your sad eyes meeting his. Suddenly aware of the scene he was making he dissolved into shadow as you tried to call after him.
“I better go-”
“No Cass, I'll go” you winnowed out of the clearing.
-
Azriel crashed into his room in the House of Wind. Mixtures of emotions spinning in his head like the shadows around his heels.
“Az” he whipped around to see you stood with your hands up chest level in surrender.
“Here to pack your bags?” he chewed out.
“Oh fuck off Azriel, don’t actually pretend you want me to stay” you matched his tone.
“And why do you say that?” he snapped back.
“Because you’re the reason I’m leaving!” he took a small step back in shock at your sharp admission. He sat down on the edge of his bed, brow furrowing in thought.
“What have I done to you?”
“What haven’t you done!? You go out of your way to make my job difficult, every motion I put forward you try to shoot down, you’re constantly following me watching every move I make waiting me to fuck up! Now you have what you want, I’m leaving!” you paced up and down in front of him, releasing the tension you held in your shoulders.
“I don’t want you to leave” he sounded almost offended that you thought so.
“What?”
“You really think I want you to leave…especially after last night” he stood from the bed, stepping in front of you to stop your pacing.
“I thought that especially after last night you’d want me to leave” You half laughed.
“At least I guess I’ve given you something to remind you of me” he gave the smallest smile, his hand sweeping your hair off your shoulder to look at his busy work as you felt yourself blush.
“Don’t leave YN, who would I play with?”
“Cass maybe” you grinned, something seemingly darkening in his eyes.
“I don’t want to fuck him” he breathed out.
“That’s not what Rhys told me” You laughed again before noticing his serious eyes.
“Please don’t leave me YN”
“And what will I tell Tarquin?” you chuckled, unsure what to do with Azriels edgy tone. His hand found yours, hazel eyes fixated on you.
"Tell him you're preoccupied" "With what exactly" he moved closer to you with your words ever so slightly rattling out of you.
“Az if we kiss…this might become more than what either of us wants”
"What if its what we both want?" he was mere millimetres from you now, unable to fight against this magnetic force pulling you forward. Something bubbling between you both, the electricity coursing through the space between you both again as you kissed so sweetly. Your eyes snapped open to find his eyes meeting yours, gently pulling back from one another. Mate. Mate. Mate.
“YN- you’re my-”
“-Mate” you breathed while looking at him with such unadulterated love. Azriel burst into laughter with you following suit.
“Now you really can’t leave me”
“How convenient” you smiled, running your hands through your hair, Azriel tracing the bitemark's outline with his heated gaze.
“Care for some stress relief YN?” Azriels hands went straight for your hips, the feeling of the small calluses meeting your soft sides sent pulses down you both. He met your neck, the same place he had last night, cupping his hands beneath your lower legs and lifting you from the ground, your legs wrapped around his waist
“Why can't I keep away from you?” You breathed, the hairs on Azriel’s neck standing on their end.
“Why does that make me so happy?” Was all he could manage before reconnecting to your neck. Azriel carried you to the bed before throwing you down and closely following in pursuit. You knotted your fingers through his hair and forced down the moan trying to escape at the pleasure of having him nip you. You tugged his hair until he pulled from you to face you.
“I want all of you”
Azriel cautiously lowered his mouth to yours until they met again. Much like the first time electricity coursed through both of you but unlike the last time, neither pulled away, only growing hungrier.
You could feel him hardening against your thigh, no longer able to fight the little victory you were going to give him, you moaned gently. He smirked hard into the kiss before it became more feverish. Your hand ran across him beneath the fabric of his trousers, his turn to groan.
“You're wearing too many clothes” he rasped as you smirked and pulled your shirt from over your head, he gently caught your jaw as he kissed along it.
“I want revenge for these” you smirked, wrapping your leg into his side to flip him so you straddled him on top. Your teeth grazed his neck with heat as he sat up in the bed with you on his lap. He pulled his shirt from over his head, his hands replacing on your hips to support you, his groaning encouraging you on.
“Enough teasing YN, I need you” he said darkly, flipping you onto your back and yanking your trousers free from your legs to discard them. Azriel kissed you sweetly before moving down the shape of your body, peppering kisses along the trail to your entrance. You felt your legs begin to tremble under his touch, begging for more as his fingers began to play with your clit, your hands tangling in his hair with a moan.
“You’re so ready for me YN, its intoxicating” he began to kiss around you and slowly his fingers began to move in and out while he sucked your clit. You felt the tension build in your abdomen, the greatest realess you ever had just a few movements away until he stopped entirely. You looked down between your legs to meet his eyes as he moved to hover above you again, discarding his own trousers in the process.
“You’re so beautiful YNN” Your hand met the side of his face softly before pulling him back down into a searing kiss. Your fingers began to drag up and down his bear back before tracing the spines of his wings as they began to splay in their relaxed state.
“Is that okay Azriel?” you whispered watching his eyes close with the building pleasure.
“Nothing has ever been more okay” he leaned his head towards your hand, taking the waves of pleasure in his stride before lowering back down to meet you sweetly.
Azriel slowly then began to enter you, you both almost meeting your release at the feeling. He slowly began to drag in and out as the sensation grew with its addictive nature, he increased his speed, spurred on by your hitching breath. The pressure growing and growing and growing, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your back arched until the band snapped sending you into overdrive as every nerve in your body stood to attention and then exploded. You practically screamed his name sending him over the edge, returning the sentiment by moaning your name, collapsing next to you while riding out his high.
“I had no idea how much I needed to hear you say my name like that YN” Azriel finally found some composure to rasp out, his arm wrapping around you, pulling you in. You tried not to cringe in embarrassment as you buried a laugh into his chest.
“Don’t go shy on me now” he laughed, kissing the top of your head. You rolled onto your elbows to look into his eyes as they lit up for you. You hauled the duvet up around you, leaving a small corner for Azriel to tug at.
“Why must I be mated to a blanket thief?”
“Why must I be mated to a pain in the ass?”
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Whatcha think friends!
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( a collection of fun and adventurous dialogue prompts. adjust phrasing as necessary.) feel free to make edits to better suit your muse, but please don’t edit or add on to the original post <𝟑 if you like, please consider supporting me through tips, it's highly appreciated.
"Want to try sneaking into the movie theater?"
"There's this exclusive sky bar on the top floor. I bet if we act confident enough, we could just walk right in. Ready to blend in with the high rollers?"
"You know the 'Staff Only' areas in aquariums always look so intriguing. I've got an idea involving lab coats and clipboards. Interested?"
"There's a secret passage in this art gallery that leads to a hidden exhibit. I overheard the curator talking about it. Shall we go exploring?"
"I've always wanted to see a movie from the theater's projection room. I've got a friend who works here – you get what I mean?"
"So, that exclusive restaurant is fully booked for months, but I may have 'borrowed' a couple of names from the reservation list. Feeling adventurous?"
"The old amusement park's been closed for years, but I know a way in. Imagine having all those rides to ourselves under the moonlight."
"I heard there's an underground speakeasy in this library. Apparently, you need to whisper a password to the librarian. Wanna try our luck?"
"Remember that fancy pool party we weren't invited to? I've got two waiter uniforms and a brilliant plan. You in?"
"There's a secret rooftop garden on top of that skyscraper. I bet we could talk our way past security if we pretend to be lost interns."
"I know this sounds crazy, but I found a hidden door behind the museum. Want to see where it leads after closing time?"
"The local TV station does live broadcasts from that studio. I bet with the right timing, we could sneak onto a set during a commercial break. Ready for your 15 seconds of fame?"
"I discovered a hidden hot spring in the woods just outside town. It's a bit of a hike, but imagine a midnight dip under the stars."
"There's a secret room in the library that's usually locked. I copied the key while volunteering. Want to see what forbidden books they're hiding?"
"Remember that fancy cooking class that was full? Well, I may have found a way for us to observe from the kitchen's back entrance. Hungry for some culinary espionage?"
"I know how to get onto the roof of the tallest building downtown. The view of the sunset from up there is incredible. Shall we?"
"There's a masquerade ball at the governor's mansion tonight. I've got two masks and a wild idea. Care to crash a high-society party?"
"My friend works at the zoo and says we could help feed the penguins after closing time. Interested in a secret animal encounter?"
"I heard this old theater is supposedly haunted. Want to sneak in after hours and do some ghost hunting?"
"There's a secret beach hidden behind those cliffs. The catch? We'll have to climb down a rope ladder to reach it. You up for it?"
"I found an old map of the city's underground tunnels. Fancy a subterranean adventure date?"
#uservolkova#dialogue prompts#romance prompts#dialogue prompt#writing prompts#rp prompts#drama prompts#fanfic prompts#prompts#meme starter#meme#writing meme#sentence starters#indie starter#rp sentence starters#otp ideas#character ideas#story ideas#writing idea#writing ideas#creative writing#writeblr#writers on tumblr#daily writing challenge#fanfic writing#writing blog#writing inspiration#writing prompt#writing snippet#writing resources
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Just dropping by to compliment your writing. Seriously, at this point your posts have basically adopted me. I LOVE everything you write! (Especially because you It made me obsessed with transformers again.) .... anyway, kisses from a Brazilian 😈😘😔💗👍👍
Aww! Thank you so much!
I felt bad and went ahead to type up the second half. The tags you guys add when you reblogged the last bit were making me feel a bit guilty.
Everything is Alright Pt 32
Starscream x Reader-guardian
• Hidden among the clouds, he circles. Can’t make himself leave you there alone, tethered to his own worries. To you. Still watching over you, because you’re so small down there standing right where he left you. Like you’re waiting on him to come back for you. Finally, you begin to walk. But you keep looking up, looking for him and it hurts more than he’d thought it would. Breaks him wide open as he wonders what you’re thinking. That he doesn’t want you anymore? That you’re not needed? He knows that feeling all too well. Hates it.
• You have no idea how far it is to town walking, but you’re already soaking wet and cold. Moving at least might keep you warm since you’re still in that stupid, thin dress. He’s not coming back. You weren’t sure what was going to become of you with him, but just being let go? Maybe to him it’s been like rehabilitating a wild animal and he’d finally decided you could be released back into the wild. Maybe he just really had gotten bored with you. Those maybes are driving you crazy. Because you’re hurt that he just threw you away.
• Because you cared about him. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you shudder as lightning crackles across the sky, the wind whipping your soaking hair across your cheek in little, stinging lashes. When exactly had it stopped being a game you were playing to survive? Agreeing with him, pretending interest in his day at first, but when had you genuinely started to care? The same time you’d started smiling when he returned from his duties, because you were really happy to see him and being greeted made him happy. Made his wings lift up higher at being acknowledged. Making him happy had made you happy.
• There’s a truck approaching on the road below as he rolls through the clouds, condensation slicking him. Too high above to hear what’s said when that truck slows beside you. When you turn. Tension winding him tight when you don’t keep walking, but pull open the door and get in. Someone you know? Someone looking for you? To take you home? A friend or something else to you? It doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t care, but he does.
• Shivering, you reach to angle the vents on the passenger side more directly on you as the driver cranks the heat. He’s older than you, old enough to be your dad and he’s frowning at you. Not buying that you’re okay. “Everyone thinks you’re dead. It’s been a month,” he says, tone clearly saying that he knows you haven’t just been wandering through the woods that long. That lie isn’t going to work. Apparently you’re famous in town, your face on missing persons flyers and they’d even swept the woods and had divers checking the small lake for your body.
• “I’m okay.” You’re not, but you just want to go home. Not to the police station or the hospital. Home. Your empty home. That fact has never bothered you before, but now it does. There’s no one waiting there, no one to talk to. He’s frowning at you, but he agrees to drive you home after making a call to the police, making you let them know you’re alive and found. Making you agree to go in tomorrow to explain what happened. Where you were. You don’t even have the energy to think up a lie right then.
• The guy even walks you up the drive and watches as you root around in the dirt of a very dead hanging basket of what had been impatiens a month ago to find the spare key and let yourself in. Only then does he relent and leave. You never think to ask his name, too numb and oddly empty. Around you the house is achingly silent.
• The intruder leaves and he still circles. No other vehicles. Does that mean you’re alone? No. How could you be? He transforms and lands a safe distance away, keeping low as the lights come on in the house, watching your shadow pass the windows as a dark smudge. And eventually the lights go back out. No one coming for you, because there is no one. His spark aches. He doesn’t mean to stay all night, but he can’t leave you there alone. Unwanted.
• Even if you believe he’s abandoned you, he can watch over you. Knows it’s not safe for you, but can’t make himself go. If he keeps returning here it’ll be noticed and questioned. You’ll still be in danger because of him. He knows this. And he still can’t force himself to leave you, because he is selfish. You don’t need him. But he does need you.
• Wrapping your robe around yourself as you head into the kitchen to get some coffee going, you stop short as the house creaks on its foundation. Eyes lifting to see something blocking the window. Familiar colors. Chest tight, you head outside and stare up at Starscream. He’s leaning against the house, wings drooping and optics shuttered in recharge. Like he’d spent all night outside watching over you. “You big idiot,” you sigh affectionately, your eyes burning as you reach out to touch the back of his huge hand. He hadn’t left you.
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