#< sword drawn. ( ic )

[addaerontruther]

"Prince Daeron was the most popular of the queen’s sons, as clever as he was courteous, and most comely as well." — Fire and Blood, Heirs of the Dragon — A Question of Succession

commission by the incredibly talented and always wonderful @paintb0x 🥰🥰

[widgits]

jaime and brienne my friends jaime and brienne

[quibbs126]

So my mind’s been just running with the “Strawberry Jam Sword is a corrupted Soul Jam” idea I posited earlier today, and so I made this

So for the joke context, it’s supposed to be that the other Soul Jams can recognize that the Strawberry Jam Sword is a corrupted Soul Jam (even if only they know), and they can just like, sense the evil coming from it. Meanwhile the SJS doesn’t like them for the opposite reasons, and so when you put two of them close together, they just like, hate each other on site and start hissing at each other like cats. Thing is, nobody else but their wielders (and probably the other Soul Jams) can hear them, and nobody knows about the SJS’s true nature, so to them they’re just hearing random hissing and don’t know where it’s coming from. Also they can each only hear their Jam’s side of the argument, if there is one

I like to think they eventually figure out it’s coming from the swords, so they pull them away, only for the noise to stop, then put them next to each other again, and they start hissing again. And then just doing this repeatedly, meanwhile any outsider seeing this is like “what the heck are you two doing?”

Also, potentially the reason these two just keep choosing violence against the other, their swords are each subconsciously making them want to fight one another, whether intentionally or not. Not sure if I’m keeping that as legitimate, but I dunno. It’s a possible explanation

Honestly I think I need to draw Dark Cacao more, because while I can draw Dark Choco just fine, Dark Cacao gives me trouble. Might also just be because Dark Cacao’s outfit is much more complex. Also probably because I drew this without a sketch layer, which I never do in these kinds of drawings

But yeah, random funny idea from my head that I wanted to share

[maykrisms]

❮ I might have access to an entire arsenal of ranged weaponry, but I always find myself being drawn more towards melee weapons. ❯

There's always more.. passion, to to speak, when wielding a weapon such as the Demonic Crucible. You need to carry your weight just right, put just the right amount of force into your swing - not too much to make yourself vulnerable, but not too little that it bounces off the target.

It becomes a dance. You dodge, then swing. You need to time everything to an invisible beat - a song of violence that makes you dance.

❮ I might be able to end a battle faster with the BFG-9,000 or Gauss Cannon, but there's simply no enjoyment in that. ❯

[fernbodied]

@finncomet​ said: "You could always become a parasitic plant. Or go the venus flytrap route and eat bugs."

    “ guess i could go back to my roots as a parasitic somethin’-somethin’. sure beats scouting out a bunch of heat lamps over the winter... ”

[hisatana]

Her approach is brash, her introduction nothing short of an attempt at shocking him into acknowledging her,

"Hisame!" screamed from behind his back, but should he turn around, he'd find her blade held in a defensive position, "Don't think I haven't seen that sword at your hip. Draw it, and come at me! I have to witness your technique--to determine if you'd make a worthy rival or not!"

Challenging eyes tell the Hoshidan that she is dead serious about this, practically daring him to swing at her with his full force. She wields her stellar Brave Sword with a dexterous kind of ease, its form flowing from one guard to the next. Defense is more her brother's specialty, but if Hisame can so much as find an opening in her stance, she'll consider fighting him for real.

(Almost like a certain someone, eh?)

It works.

The sudden call of his name causes him to jump, though be does his best to calm himself before he turns. Once he sees who it is, however, all his efforts are for nothing.

“Larcei— you can’t go and surprise whoever you’d like, you know! If it had been anyone else I’m sure they would have struck you immediately.” He places a hand on his chest, feeling the way his heart beats like a scared rabbit. ‘Calm, Hisame…it’s just a girl. She is no different than the ones you call friends.’

He takes a deep breath.

“I will not be attacking you. This is hardly the time to be sparring. Not only that…but I have no want to become your rival in the first place.” It seems she was the reckless type, though he mentally applauds her on going on the defensive. At least if someone had swung at her she would have been ready— except…

“You should guard your sides some more,” He points out matter of factly, “especially if you’re looking to spar next time we have some free time.”

[kharrneth]

and im supposed to be scared of these guys

[happy74827]

Ice Breaker

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You start to see your acquaintance/friend in a new light after saving your life.

WC: 6994 (oh, jeez)

Category: Fluff, Eventual Smut (lmfao), Lime/Spice, Slow Burn(ish), {TW: Drowning, Improper Use of Claws (Kinda a joke, kinda not… it’s hinted in the very beginning), P With P, Slight OOC? MDNI!!}

Why am I petrified to post this?? Literally shaking.

So, uh, please be nice to me 😭🫶 Smut is NOT my strong suit. This is like my 3rd attempt at it and the first time I’m posting it. Kinda scary. But I wanted to be that person who wrote all genres (dunno why), so here’s a fic containing mostly all genres? I guess?

@yoursacredqueenmother helped with some parts (mostly the ending) and my confidence so shout out to my queen!! Love you girlie 💞

『••✎••』

Warmth and pain. It’s all you felt. Your lungs were aching, begging for the oxygen that the cold water was denying you. Your vision blurred as your body screamed for air. The feeling of a strong pair of arms wrapped around you, pulling you out of the depths and into a blinding light. You felt the air hit your face as you were laid onto solid ground, a large hand pushing on your chest.

Suddenly, you felt the pressure of a mouth being pressed against yours, and it took a moment before your mind registered what was happening.

It was then a sound of a gasp and a deep, throaty growl sounded from above you, and the warm, comforting weight of the hand was suddenly gone. Only replaced by a sound that resembled a sword being drawn from a sheath.

And then, pain once more. You felt something lodge into the airway, and your body was instantly set into a frenzy, attempting to rid itself of the object. In an instant, the sound similar to a sword repeated itself, replaced only by the feeling of being turned onto your side. Your body began to convulse as a mix of the icy lake water, and your stomach acid spewed from your throat.

When your body finally stilled, your eyes fluttered open to reveal a blurry vision; you began to hear things more clearly. Muffles turned into a voice, which turned into words.

"Shit… Fucking shit," Deep and gruff, almost a growl. You remembered that voice. You knew that voice. "Jesus, you’re ice cold. Fuck!"

The sound of a zipper was heard, and before you knew it, a weight was placed over you, and you were off the ground and in the air.

That’s when you peered up and saw him. The very same man who claimed he was far from a hero. He was carrying you with his arm under your knees and the other supporting your back. He was constantly flickering his gaze to look down at you while you did nothing but stare back.

It was after a moment that your senses were coming back to you, and you began to notice things more clearly.

His jaw was clenched tight, and the look in his eyes was one of concern. You didn't know if it was your imagination, but it looked like there was a tint of red around his iris, which was now a piercing hazel color. The muscles of his face were taut and strained. The furrow of his brow gave him a look of worry while the twitch of his lips hinted at annoyance.

"Lo…" You didn’t realize the impact the water and the ice had had on you until you tried to speak, the sound coming out weak and broken. His gaze flicked back to you, and the red ring around his eyes was gone.

"It’s alright. It’s… You’re gonna…" The cold air hit his face as he opened his mouth, causing his breath to turn into fog. "You’re gonna be fine, Sweetheart. We’re gonna get you somewhere warm, alright?"

You couldn't help but shiver at the term of endearment and nodded in response, knowing that any attempt to speak would probably just come out in a croak.

You didn’t remember much after that, only bits and pieces. You remember the sudden quietness as he ripped open the door of his truck and settled you down on the passenger seat. You remember him securing his jacket around your body, his hands lingering a bit too long on your shoulders.

You also remembered the absolute mental breakdown he had when his truck wouldn’t start.

He had slammed his fist into the dashboard, the impact leaving a dent in the metal, while a loud pang signified the adamantium bones beneath. He was muttering curse after curse and had his head leaned back against the headrest, eyes screwed shut, and a look of frustration and pain upon his face.

It was only when he slammed his head into the steering wheel, clearly aggravated by the failure of his truck, did the it finally decide to work.

You don’t remember the drive, only that the heat was cranked up to its maximum, and he was speeding, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tight and his knuckles turning white.

But you remember the look he gave you when he lifted you from the truck, carrying you into some off-the-road motel. For a while, you thought he actually broke into it, but he paid during your trip, both in and out of consciousness.

And now, here you were, completely swaddled in a mass of blankets, in front of a fire that Logan had made as he was pacing the room. His brows were furrowed, and he had his fingers running through his hair in an almost desperate manner. He looked stressed and maybe even a little scared.

Your mind was still foggy, and a wave of pain shot through your head. A wince escaped your lips, and you instantly regretted the noise as Logan snapped his head to you, his eyes wide and his lips parted. He strode over to you, squatting down to your eye level.

"How do ya feel?" He asked, his voice softer than usual.

"F-Freezing," you whispered, your teeth clacking together. Logan looked around frantically, unsure of what to do.

"There’s no fucking hot water in this place," he muttered to himself. "What a shit hole. Fucking cheap bastards. Shit." He continued to ramble, cursing up a storm.

"Logan," you managed to breathe out, your hand reaching out from under the covers and grabbing his bicep. The man was tense as hell. "I-It's fine."

His eyes widened a fraction at your touch before narrowing in frustration.

"It ain't fine," he said, his tone rough. "You’re freezing to the point where yer shaking like a goddamn leaf. How is that fine?"

Your brows furrowed as you tried to sit up, his arms reaching out to push you back down, but you shrugged him off.

"Logan, I'm not… I’m not dying."

He stared at you for a moment, the crease between his brows becoming more pronounced before he shook his head, the muscles of his face twitching in annoyance.

"That ain't the fucking point."

"Then what is the… the point?"

He stood up, beginning to pace again. You watched him carefully as he rubbed a hand over his face, mumbling and cursing to himself. You could feel the frustration practically radiating off him.

You were going to ask him what was wrong, what was the problem, why he was acting so strangely, when his gaze met yours and your breath hitched in your throat.

He looked so… different. You were used to his scowl and his hard features. Quite honestly, his personality was trash mixed with an added dash of salt. But now, even though he held those same hard features, your eyes took it in a whole new way.

His scowl made him seem protective and concerned. His furrowed brow seemed almost endearing, and his clenched jaw gave him a sense of determination.

It made you want to think back on the way he held you and how his arms were secured around you, making you feel all kinds of—

Warmth…

The idea that made you jolt forward, almost falling off the bed.

"Shit!" Logan was at your side in an instant, his arm reaching out and supporting you. "Are ya tryna kill yourself? Lie back down."

"No," you shook your head. "You."

He frowned. "What?"

"You," you repeated, a small smile stretching across your lips. "I need… You."

He stared at you for a moment, his face dropping into a look of confusion. It would’ve been funny if you didn't feel so damn cold.

"Me?"

"Yeah… I n-need heat," another shiver went through you. "And you’re like a furnace. An overheated dog."

"Like a what?" He narrowed his eyes.

"A… just— I'm cold, Logan." You were starting to get tired. "Please."

He blinked at you. Then, he looked at the ground, then at the bed. He was silent for a moment, and you were afraid he wouldn’t do it. But then, his hands were finding the hem of his shirt and lifting it up over his head.

It wasn’t a big deal. It shouldn’t have been a big deal. So, why did you suddenly feel a heat spreading in the pit of your stomach despite him not even touching you yet? Why were your eyes suddenly wide and focused? Why were your lips parting and your mouth becoming dry?

There was just a perfect amount of hair trailing down from his belly button and leading down into the waistband of his jeans. It was almost like a treasure trail but thicker. His muscles were so well defined, their cords protruding from the skin, and he was flexing and twitching as he moved. His stomach was taut, and his hips were slightly visible. His chest was broad, pecs perfectly formed, and the lines between them were the most appealing things you had ever seen.

And right in the center was the all too familiar chain, with the dog tags dangling down, resting just over his sternum.

You couldn’t help but swallow thickly, a strange and unfamiliar heat washing over you. You didn’t really realize how long you were staring until he spoke.

"A lot of girls would pay good money for the view you're getting," he smirked, and the heat in your stomach only got hotter.

You averted your gaze and coughed into your fist. "Sh-Shut up," you mumbled, pulling the blankets back and slipping under the covers.

Logan sighed as he moved the blankets away from your goosebump-covered skin and settled himself in next to you.

Instantaneously, you sighed as the heat emitting from his body enveloped you while he tensed at the contact.

"Shit, you really are freezing," he grumbled.

You couldn't help the slight moan that came from you as his warm arms wrapped around your waist, his chest pressing flush against your back, and his breath ghosting the back of your neck.

You could sleep like this. In fact, you probably would because you were so tired. Your eyelids felt heavy, and the feeling of his warmth made you feel safe.

For a moment, the only noise that was heard was the crackling of the fire, both your panting breath and his, and the sound his throat was making as he swallowed.

"I, uh," his voice was lower and a lot deeper than before. It seemed to rumble through him and into your back. "I thought ya died. When I found you, I thought you were dead."

Your heart skipped a beat, and your mouth went dry. Damn, already with the emotions.

"Well, I'm not," you told him, your voice a lot softer than his. "I'm fine. I’m okay."

You felt him nod against your shoulder. "Right."

And you knew, deep down, that he was lying.

Logan was never a good liar. You knew it from the moment he stepped foot into the mansion. And this, his actions, was living proof of what a horrible liar he was.

"Logan?"

He grunted. "Hmm?"

"Why did you do it?"

You could feel the way his eyebrow quirked in confusion. "Why did I do what?"

"Follow me, and save me," you stated simply. "You had no reason to."

He was silent for a moment. "And, what? I was supposed to leave you there to die?"

"Yes."

"That ain't—"

"But it is, Logan," you said, and he was quiet once more. "You said it yourself. You aren’t a hero. So why did you save me?"

You always knew the answer. But even if you were currently freezing, you wanted to hear it come from him. It was tiringof hearing the same phrase over and over.

And clearly, you poked a nerve because in an instant, his arms were off of you, and you were being flipped over, with all the blankets thrown to the floor, only to find yourself face to face with Logan.

"Is this you pulling my teeth?" He growled, a look of anger on his face. "It sure as hell ain’t a damn good time."

You couldn’t stop the way your eyes kept flickering down his chest, his pectorals tensing as he breathed.

"You say you aren’t, but you are," you told him, not even listening to him. You were too focused on the way the flames of the fire danced along his skin. "Heroes save people. You saved me."

"This isn’t about heroism." He seethed, and the anger was evident. "It’s about you being a stubborn ass and getting yourself in a damn dangerous situation."

"Dangerous situation?" Now it was your turn to get angry. "Are you serious? Are you actually serious?"

"Who the hell just storms off to go frolicking around on top of a goddamn lake? What the fuck were ya thinking?"

"It’s called ice skating, you stupid bastard," you snapped, feeling your body returning back to a chill due to his absence. "I didn't expect it to break, and I didn’t expect to f-fall through. I don’t have f-fucking x-ray vision."

"Any person with half a brain could see how thin the ice was," he spat. "I mean, look at you! Ya, look like a goddamn popsicle."

"I was trying to enjoy myself, Logan. Something you wouldn't know anything about."

"Enjoy yourself?" He barked out a laugh. "You could've fucking died. That isn't enjoying yourself, Icypop, that's being fucking stupid."

"Don’t call me that."

"You are fucking stupid," he hissed. "Do you know what that would've done? Do ya know what it would've done to—"

"Logan," you snapped. "You… This… This is proving my point. If you truly weren’t a hero, you wouldn’t have cared. You would have let me drown and gone on your merry way."

"Anyone would have cared."

"Not anyone," you retorted, "Not everyone."

"You just think that because it's what you want to think."

"No, it's the truth."

"No, it isn’t."

"You saved me, Logan," you whispered, your eyes finding his, which were still burning with anger. "Get it through your head, you idiot. You saved me. I wasn’t even aware you had followed me, but you c-cared enough to keep me from dying. You aren’t a bad guy, Logan; stop trying to convince yourself you are. Because, clearly, you aren’t."

The two of you were staring at each other, neither of you speaking a word. Your breaths were coming out in puffs of air, while his were heavy and almost raspy. The look on his face was intense, and he was practically trembling with anger.

You couldn't tell what was running through his mind, but you had a feeling it was along the lines of, "I'm not a fucking hero. Shut the hell up," or, "Just let me believe what I want to believe."

You didn't know which one it was, but either way, it would be pointless to argue with him.

He would always try to convince himself that he wasn’t a good person. He would try to convince himself that he wasn’t meant for such things.

Even with proving the opposite in so many situations, he still would never take the hint.

And now, with the way he was looking at you, the two of you breathing in the same air, the heat of his body surrounding you, your eyes trying to forget his state of undress, it was hard not to argue.

You didn't mean to do it, but your hand lifted up, and your fingers grazed the chain of his dog tags, sending a shiver through his body.

You couldn’t help but let your eyes flicker down, taking him in for a second time, your eyes trailing down his chest and his abs before finding the patch of hair leading into his—

You swallowed thickly before meeting his gaze again. His eyes were dark, and his pupils dilated. The way his chest was rising and falling, and his jaw was clenching made it obvious he was trying to control himself.

Caught, you quickly dropped your hand and averted your eyes. You didn’t want him to see the effect his body had on you, even if you had no control over it.

"I'm not a hero," he finally whispered, and it wasn’t his words that surprised you, but his voice.

His voice was deep and raspy, and you couldn't stop the way the heat was pooling in the pit of your stomach or the way a strange feeling was taking over your mind. "But, I do care. A hell of a lot."

"Lo—"

"Don’t call me a hero for caring," his arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer to his body. "I care too much for worthless shit like that."

Your throat went dry. He was so warm, so very warm.

He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours. Your breathing quickened, your heartbeat hammering in your chest. Not a single coherent thought came to your mind. All you could think about was the way his breaths lined up with yours. The way his skin was brushing against yours. How he smelled so very distinctly Logan, and the way his lips looked so very inviting.

It was taken too far when your tongue slipped out and wetted your own lips, and Logan's eyes darted to the movement.

He stared for the longest time, seemingly frozen, his chest rising and falling heavily, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed. He pulled away only an inch or two, his gaze flicking between your eyes and your lips.

What was he thinking? What was going through his head? You wanted to ask, but you were afraid to break the silence. Afraid to say something and make him come to his senses.

So, instead, you watched his face carefully, the way his lips parted, and his pupils dilated before his eyes found yours once more. Reading him was hard, but this… this was an expression you had seen before.

It was when Jean was flirting with Scott. The way she would lean close and give him that smile, and the way his cheeks would heat, and his eyes would dart down to her lips, then back up.

This was attraction.

And it was an expression you didn't think you would see on Logan. Not for you, at least.

You were one of his close friends, but did you play nice with each other? No. Did you get along? Yes, but those rare arguments the two of you had were heated, and sometimes they didn't make sense.

Did you tease him and mess with him? Definitely.

But never did you think that would lead to this.

Logan was attractive. He was built and tall, and he was very muscular. The definition of a man. His rough, hard features only made him more desirable. And his short temper and bad attitude just drew women to him like flies. They tend to lean towards the bad boys.

You didn’t. You picked the nice ones. The kind ones. The ones who wouldn’t hurt a fly.

You had been with a couple of guys since coming to Xavier's, and all of them had been so nice and so polite, but you did come to the conclusion that they were rather boring.

You couldn't remember the last time you were flustered by a man, or the last time your heart pounded so quickly, or the last time your breath caught in your throat.

But here was Logan, suddenly giving you those feelings and making your stomach do flips. The man who pretended to be the opposite of everything you wanted in a partner was the only one making your heart race.

You didn't know if that was good or bad.

This feeling, though, felt good. Felt so very good.

The way his arm was around your waist, his hand gripping your side, his body flush against yours, his lips just inches from your own, felt too good.

The heat from his skin felt good. The feeling of his warm breath was good. His scent was good. Everything was so, very good.

You were tired, and your eyelids felt heavy. The way your limbs felt like lead and how cold you felt was getting to you. You could feel your body starting to relax.

The only thing keeping you awake was Logan.

He was still so close, and his grip hadn’t loosened. But you couldn't help it when your eyelids started to slip closed, and your body went slack against him.

Logan's grip on you tightened, his arms holding your body tighter, his breath catching, before you felt the softest of touches on your forehead.

Kisses… Kisses were being peppered across your forehead, and it made you shiver.

His lips were so soft. His kisses were so gentle. It was so different from the hard exterior he held. It was like he was a completely different person.

So, you looked up and found yourself nose-to-nose with Logan. His eyes were staring right back into yours, and there was a soft look to his features.

The hand on your waist moved and cupped your cheek, his thumb stroking the skin there.

"You need sleep," his voice was low and raspy. He was whispering as if speaking any louder would break the moment.

"That’s not what I need," you replied just as quietly, not breaking eye contact.

His brow furrowed. "What do ya need, darlin'?"

Words were hard to find and hard to put into sentences. You could’ve said a lot of things. Food, a shower, more blankets, a cup of tea, but the truth was, none of those things would satisfy you.

And the longer Logan's eyes were locked with yours, the more assured you were that what you needed wasn't any of those things.

So, instead of words, you moved your hand to gently grasp the chain of his dog tags. It held the same warmth that was emitting from his skin.

You didn’t know if he knew what you meant or if he understood what you were trying to say.

But the look in his eyes and the way his grip tightened gave you the feeling that he did.

It was silent, and tense. But, it was comfortable, and so, very nice.

You didn’t know if you had the strength to lift your body and kiss him. Or if he had the willpower to.

However, you didn’t need to make the decision. Because when he lifted your hair out of the way and buried his nose into the crook of your neck, his lips just barely hovering over your pulse, you were certain.

So, you did what any other girl would do in that situation.

Your hand tangled itself in his hair, and you pushed his face closer to your neck.

There was a growl, a deep, animalistic growl. One that shook your core from the heat in his voice, and the sound was almost enough to make you moan.

But you were surprised by the feeling of his lips pressing against your neck. You’d imagined with the way he was built, and with his personality, it would be rough and fast. But the way his lips gently caressed your neck, and the way his hands roamed your body made it seem like he wanted to take his time.

His mouth started trailing open-mouthed kisses along the expanse of your neck, his hot breath sending good shivers through your body. He sucked and nibbled, making you shiver, and the way his hand moved to caress your waist was gentle.

It was so unexpected, but it was so very welcome.

His lips traveled up your neck until they were just behind your ear, where he placed a small kiss before nuzzling his nose into your hair.

"Warm enough?"

It was the first thing he had said since your neck began being attacked, and it wasn’t a question that had an answer.

Because, while you were indeed warm, the way his hands were roaming your body and the way his lips were on you was causing an entirely different kind of heat.

And it was obvious that he was trying to get his point across. The way his hips were pressed against yours, and the way his arms were wrapped tightly around you was definitely not helping.

You knew he could smell it, your arousal. And he could most likely hear your racing heartbeat and feel the way your body trembled.

He was waiting for an answer. He wanted an answer.

"Logan," you breathed, your eyes slipping shut and your hands finding his chest. His skin was hot under your touch, and you couldn't help the way you trailed your fingers down his pecs and his abs.

He shook a bit, clearly still not used to your freezing touch, but his grip on you didn't loosen, and neither did the way his body was pressed against yours.

He was hard. Everywhere. His arms were strong, his chest was defined, and his legs were muscular. He was a brick wall, and you couldn't help but admire it.

You couldn't believe how attractive the man was.

Logan Howlett. The guy who was an asshole. The guy who would kill a man with his bare hands. The guy who was working on his temper. The guy who would accidentally pick a fight at the drop of a hat.

The guy who just saved you. The guy who cared about you.

Your hand slid down his stomach, and his muscles contracted under your touch. You were getting closer and closer until you hit the brown border that held up his jeans.

Your hand didn’t stay for long because a hand greeted you, wrapping around your wrist and stopping your movement.

Logan lifted his head from the crook of your neck, and his dark eyes stared into yours. There was a warning in his gaze, and his jaw was clenched tightly.

"Stop," his voice was low and raspy.

Your eyes searched his face, but there was nothing there. No emotion. Just a blank stare. "Why?"

"Don't."

You ignored him and tried to move your hand, but he tightened his grip, making it so you couldn’t move it.

"Logan," you whispered.

"I said stop."

You looked into his eyes and noticed something. His eyes were darker, his pupils were blown, and the look in his gaze was intense.

And it finally clicked.

He was turned on, and he was trying to keep himself in control.

And, you thought about it. If Logan were to lose control, what would happen? What would happen if the man who could slice a man open with his bare hand was in a situation like this, with his hormones raging and his self-control fading?

You didn't think much of it, but when the thought crossed your mind, a rush of arousal surged through you.

You wanted him. You wanted Logan Howlett. And it was a surprise.

He was going to say another word, but your lips captured him, and the hand on your wrist immediately released you.

It was like a switch was flipped. Logan growled into the kiss as you tugged him closer by his hair. The kiss was passionate, and the way his hand slipped under the damp shirt you were wearing was almost too much.

While his one hand was under your shirt, the other was against the bedsheet, his body leaning over you. He was hovering, but his lips never left yours.

Your shirt was gone in an instant, ripped from your body, and tossed to the floor. He paid no mind to the fact that he had ruined a perfectly good shirt, and the only thing he cared about was your bare skin.

Your lips parted, and his tongue darted into your mouth, tasting you. You could hardly keep up, his tongue dominating your mouth and his hands roaming your body.

"Lo," you managed to moan against his lips before his mouth was on yours again.

He didn't reply, but the way his fingers were trailing over the skin of your thighs was answer enough.

It was getting hot, too hot, and Logan knew that.

He pulled away from the kiss, and the string of saliva that connected the two of you broke and landed on your chest. He was breathing heavily, and his eyes were dark.

Your hair was messy, and you were still wet. Your body was shaking, and goosebumps were littering your skin.

You were looking up at him, your eyes searching his face. Your cheeks were flushed, and your chest was rising and falling quickly.

He was staring at your lips, and the way they were swollen from the kiss, and his hands were trailing along the expanse of your stomach, before moving back down to the hem of your jeans.

Logan had undone them, and his fingers were playing with the band.

Your eyes didn't leave his face, but you were surprised when he lifted his eyes to meet yours.

He was waiting for something, and when you nodded, the next thing you knew, your pants were gone. The only thing that remained was his jacket, which you still had on from your lake experience.

It felt like a distant memory, one that was fuzzy and far off. It's odd how something as traumatic and horrifying as nearly dying could turn into something as heated and intimate as this.

Logan was watching your face carefully, his hand resting on your thigh, and his eyes were searching your expression. He was waiting for any indication of doubt.

The only thing indicated was desire.

He seemed satisfied with your reaction, and his hand slowly moved further and further up your thigh before the tips of his fingers reached the fabric of your panties.

His thumb was hooked under the band, and he pulled the black fabric aside, moving his other hand to unbutton his jeans.

He pulled the zipper down, and his hand slid into his boxers.

His head fell back with a sigh, his eyes closing as his hand moved along his length.

You watched, entranced, as he pleasured himself. You didn't realize you were biting your lip until his eyes were on yours, his eyebrows furrowed, and his breaths were shaky.

He let go of himself and leaned forward, his forehead pressing against yours, as he struggled to hold himself together.

He was still waiting, and you couldn't figure out why. Why was he hesitating? Wasn't it obvious that you wanted him?

"Okay, Cowardly Lion, you can do this."

His head tilted to the side, and his nose bumped against yours. His breath fanned over your face, and his hand was gripping the side of the bed.

"Don’t call me that," his voice was gruff.

You grinned and moved your hand to the back of his neck, holding him in place. "Cowardly. Lion."

Logan growled, and you couldn't help the shiver that ran through your body. It wasn't scary. Not even close. It was hot and sexy, and it made you want him even more.

He was hovering over you, and his hand was on the side of the bed, his knuckles clenching the sheets. For a second, you believed he’d let his claws out and slice right through the mattress.

But again, only for a second.

He was watching you, his gaze locked on your face. He was staring, and his eyes were dark, and the way he was looking at you was intense.

You didn't say anything.

So, his hand moved.

And his fingers hooked under the band of your underwear, and he slowly, oh, so, slowly, pulled the fabric down.

He tossed the garment somewhere in the room, and his eyes trailed over your body.

He was staring at you, admiring your body, and the way the moonlight shone through the window made it all the better.

Your legs were spread, and you were completely naked. The only thing that was covering you was his leather jacket.

Logan's eyes moved back up your body, and he swallowed. "You’re pretty great when you’re wet."

A smirk made its way onto your lips, and you couldn't help the giggle that escaped you. "You should see me after I get out of the shower."

He growled, and the hand that was next to your head came up and grasped your chin, tilting your head back, and his mouth was on yours in an instant.

The kiss was heated, and it was a shock. Not a surprise, though. This was the original thought that went through your head. The way his hands were rough and the way his grip was tight.

This is how you expected him to be. Rough and fast. But this was not that.

This was so much better.

Your teeth clashed, and his tongue fought with yours, his body pushing you further into the bed.

You gasped into his mouth as his hand traveled back down to stroke himself a few more times before he was just outside your entrance.

You couldn't stop the whine that escaped you as his tip nudged against your core before his length started to push in.

His eyes slipped shut, and his hands caught him from falling. The bed creaked, and you could feel him trembling as he took a moment to collect himself.

When he had, there were only two things on your mind as the jolt of pain mixed with pleasure hit you.

One, you couldn't believe Logan had been holding out on you. This was amazing, and you could see yourself getting addicted to the way he made you feel.

And two, it was the way he had his jaw clenched, the way he was breathing, his hips pressed flush against yours, and the way his muscles were flexing.

He looked so good, and it was hard to focus on the fact that he was actually inside of you. His cigarette-stained breath fanned over your face, the way every time he moved slightly faster, he became more vulnerable and less guarded, the back of the throaty moans he made, the way his lips were swollen from the kissing and the biting.

All of it was a big turn-on.

His hands were gripping the bed, and his dog tags were bouncing off of his chest, hitting your skin with a cold metallic sound.

The way his hair hung in his face, and the way his eyes were dark, made him look incredibly sexy.

"Lo," you whimpered, and your nails scraped his shoulders, leaving red lines in their wake.

Of course, by the time he had reacted to the slight pain, they were already gone.

He leaned down, his arms wrapping around your body, and he held you close. He pressed his lips against your neck and sucked the sensitive skin.

It was quiet, except for the sounds of the bed creaking and the gasps and pants that slipped out every now and then. You weren’t very vocal, but that was only because you were more focused on how it felt.

And it felt so good.

It was a lot more enjoyable when it wasn’t painful, and you were more than happy that the pain had subsided and was now replaced with pure ecstasy.

He was big, bigger than you had originally expected. So, he had taken his time.

Well, not really. He had tried to, at least.

Logan had tried to hold out, but the way you had squeezed him and the way you had whimpered when he was halfway in had caused him to lose his grip on reality.

But he had tried to take his time. And that was what counted.

Your hands tangled in his hair and pulled his head closer, making him moan into your mouth.

He was moving faster, and he was losing his mind. Your lips were swollen, and the way your chest was rising and falling was amazing.

He was holding himself up, his arms flexing as his hips moved against yours, and the sound of your name falling from his lips in such a way was a sound you wanted to hear more often.

He was close. You could tell by the way his thrusts were becoming sloppy and the way he was gasping.

But you were, too.

It was the first time, the only time, you had ever experienced such an intense high. And it was a rush.

Your head fell back, and your fingers tightened in his hair as your orgasm ripped through your body. You were shaking, and your mouth opened in a silent scream as the intensity of it all hit you.

Logan followed soon after, his orgasm hitting him just as hard. His was more brutal towards you, though, as he full-on collapsed into your body, his entire weight pressing into you as he came.

It was an experience you didn't think you would ever forget. Especially when he accidentally unleaded his claws and sliced through the mattress.

"Ah, goddamn it," he sighed and slowly pulled out. He was still on top of you, but he had turned his head to the side to see the damage. "I'm not paying for this."

You were breathing heavily, and your hands were tangled in his hair, your body shaking from the aftershock.

He turned his head to look back at you, and his dark eyes studied your face.

You were a mess. You had bite marks along your neck and chest, your lips were swollen, your cheeks were flushed, and your chest was rising and falling rapidly.

Logan's eyebrows were furrowed, and his lips were parted. The way his hair was a mess, and the fact that his eyes were darker than usual made him look extremely attractive.

You couldn’t help but notice how completely out of breath he was and all the sweat and the heat radiating off his body.

He was hot, literally.

"You, uh," you swallowed and tried to keep your hands steady. "You want to take a dive in the lake?"

It took a few moments, but eventually your question had registered, and you have never heard this man laugh like he had right now. He completely lost it, and he was laughing.

And it was a deep laugh. One that could make someone feel safe. One that could make anyone fall in love with him.

His laughter died down, and he turned to look at you, the smirk still playing on his lips. "I think I'll pass."

"Oh," you breathed and bit your lip. "You don't know what you're missing."

Logan stared at you, and his hand moved from the bed to trail down your stomach. Blood was coating his knuckles from the five-second fight that had taken place when his claws had popped out, but he didn't seem to care.

You were staring at him, and the way his dark eyes were boring into yours was intimidating.

"How about," his hand slid down further, and the tips of his fingers touched your lower abdomen, "I take a dive in the shower with you instead? Can’t drown in the tub."

Your eyebrows were raised, "Am I that fragile that a simple shower will kill me?"

You were obviously joking; that soft banter had been something the two of you had always done, but there was also a hint of curiosity.

He sat up to look at you. His eyes were darker than before, and the way his hands were running along the expanse of your torso was sending shivers down your spine.

"Says the girl who slipped through ice," he leaned down, his arms caging you in, and his forehead was pressed against yours. "You really are—"

Crack.

Call it what you will: fate, destiny, bad timing, but there now, there was no way in hell he’d escape the expensive bill the motel would surely send.

The bed completely gave out.

It had taken a few seconds for it to register, the sudden drop and the loud noise. But, once you had, now it was your turn to laugh.

And boy, did you.

Your laughter filled the room, and your entire body shook. He started to blame it on the production of the bed, of course, but you knew deep down he couldn’t escape the big fat bill the motel owner was going to send.

He even got up to try to find another possible explanation, and as you pulled his jacket closer to cover yourself, you watched him try and fail to find one.

The smile never left your face, and when he turned to look at you, his dark eyes were studying your expression.

"You think this is funny?"

"Very," you grinned and leaned up on your elbows. "How about we go out for dinner tomorrow night, Edward?"

Logan's eyebrow raised, and he stared at you. You could see the visible disappointment on his face, and it was amusing.

"Alright, come on," he took hold of your arms, and pulled you out of the bed, jacket and all.

"Where are we going?" you asked and let him lead you out of the room. "The shower?"

"Yeah," he nodded, and led you into the bathroom, "I think it's time I teach you how to swim."

You grinned, "We have no hot water, remember?"

"Then, I’ll just have to make sure you don't get cold, won’t I?"

[chocochozi]

The Other Woman.

Pairing : Sanemi Shinazugawa x Hashira! Reader.

Warning : Spoilers for the anime/manga, angst, second choice reader, some fighting

A/N : HIII THANKYOU FOR READINGGG IM SORRY IF ITS HORRIBLE ITS MY FIRST TIME BSNXNZKZ

From the very begining, i always knew that i was just a second choice.

It has always been her it will always be her.

Shinazugawa and me met during our final selection.

He was harsh at first but warmed up to me the next few days together in the Mount Fujikasane. Truth be told, he didn't even want me to stay, i was the one following him around because he was the only one that caught my attention i didn't know why. But something about him just makes me drawn to him.

We fought in the mountain infested with demons side by side. During those times, my then unrequited love for him developed.

Time past by and we were promoted to be Hashiras. Though, it was ashame when Kumeno; the man who helped Shinazugawa and introduced him to a proper trainer, tragically died during both of their encounter with one of the holder of Lower Rank One of the Twelve Kizuki.

There, we met her.

Kanae.

And i can't blame Sanemi for falling for her charms. Shes beautiful, kind, sweet, patient, and has an easy-going personality.

How can i ever compare to her? Im not even close.

Kanae was easy to get along with, after becoming the Ice Hashira, we've sometimes been paired up by Master Ubuyashiki for missions. Therefore, we knew each other quite well.

Seeing the way Sanemi looks at her with heart eyes shatters my heart knowing he loved her, not me. The look in his eyes says it all.

How could I hate her? She's such an angel.

She's perfect where i fail.

"Nemiii~" i whined, impatiently waiting for him to stop training and come with me to eat.

"What?" The white haired man still kept his stance not once even glancing at you.

"C'monnn, you said you'll come with me to the ramen shop near byyy"

Huffing in annoyance, he straighten his body, turning fully to you a defeated expression plastered on his face. "Fine," "Your treat." He added.

"Alright, Let's go!" I grabbed his hands dragging him out then suddenly, Kanae's crow came flying to us informing about the unfortunate event's that led to Kanae's inevitable death.

The news, of course made me upset, she was my friend after all. But Sanemi took the news harder if not, the third hardest after the other two Kocho's. Talking to him seemed impossible after Kanae's death. He avoided me, he avoided everyone. When i try to have a converstation with him, his respond is always just a short answer or a simple hum.

Master Ubuyashiki summoned us two, to inform us about a mission, where we're both paired up. The walk to the place was quiet accompanied by the occational noises of cicadas. I was tired and didn't want to waste my energy to a one sided conversation so i stayed quiet.

As we were walking i felt a presence of someone behind my back, quickly turning around, i saw that a demon was launching at me, while his clawed nails reached for me. A hand wrapped around my waist hopping backwards to get away from the demon, a groaned escaped my lips,

"You okay?" I felt Sanemi's warm breath on my ears i felt a head rushed to my cheeks as i regain my composure. 'Its so hard to focus when im working with you.' I thought.

"Y..yeah. im okay, yeah." I patted the back of my neck and looked at my hands.

Blood.

"Fuck," i tilt my head up and glanced at the demon, a smirk on his face i pulled away from Sanemi taking my sword out of its sheath and drawing it towards the enemy. I took a deep breath and released it out my mouth.

"Ice breathing, first form, Freezing Slash." I launched towards the demon rapidly and precisely strinking him and his neck. Pieces of him dropped to the ground, his detatched head rolling to the ground as it disappears into thin air.

Sanemi walked towards me. "Come here." He softly says, and i obeyed like a puppy. He patched up the wounds on the back of my neck and that day, we reconciled our friendship.

There were times where i wanted to confess to him but didn't want to take advantage of his vulnerable state. Then, that day came where i finally mustered up the courage to finally confess to him, at first he thought i was kidding but once he realize i wasn't, he became nervous. But he did gave the relationship a chance, and we began dating.

But i could never shake the feeling that i was just a replacement, a second choice for the woman he really loved.

"Sanemi! Nemi! Wait!" I yelled running after him.

"What's your place to interfere with me and my brothers problem huh?" He stopped walking and turned around to look at me, a dissapointed look on his face was visible.

"Im sorry, i though– i though it would help.."

"Help with what?!"

"I..i don't know. When you told me about that story about your mother i–" a shaky breath escapes my lips.

"I know how to handle my own brother, and you're out of it." His tone as cold as ice.

"I thought that maybe it will help you move on.."

He stepped towards me, one of his eye brows upwards with a confused look on his face. "Move on from what?"

"From every thing thats keeping you from moving on."

"Why? What do you even know about how i feel? Do you know all the things i had to go to?" His eyes shifted. "Of course not."

"So stop acting like you know my pain, and stop acting like you own it!" His voice raised on the last sentence. "And you can't just say to me when i can move on."

I stood there, in silence. My glossy orbs looking at him.

"Even Kanae who is with me in everything, who knows everything, didn't interfere with my decisions."

That was my last straw.

"Im not Kanae, so stop comparing me to her!"

"You're right, you're not Kanae, and you will never be Kanae." He pointed his finger at me. I looked at him in the eye a tear sliding down my cheeks.

"Kanae is dead. She's not coming back Nemi, but until now you're still acting as if she is here."

"Because she is! She's here!" He pointed at his chest where his heart is.

"If she's there then where am i?.. " my voice quiet but shaky. "Forget it." I walked passed him heading to the door that leads out of his estate. My hand made its way to my mouth to stop myself from crying even louder, the other slid the door open.

I wanted him to chase after me, to tell me we will be okay. But he never did.

How foolish of me to even think that you will. I wonder, if i were to be her will you chase after me?

[yiiyiiwrites]

❄️ Winter court reader headcanon ❄️

Summary: hailing from the winter court, you’re drawn to one of the acotar men (multiple headcanons, just a brief set for each one)

🔥 Eris

Eris teasing your cute little dark blue embroidered coat lined with fur and two white pom-poms (thinks you are cute which angers you more)

“I think you need cool down autumn Prince.” Used to be said in a way to cool his anger. “Is that a threat?” But you use it for when he’s flustered

Hated each other to begin with, you thought he was too hot headed and he thought you were too detached and cold

“Do I need to warm you up my dear.” When you’re feeling cold

Using your snow manipulation to make snowballs and play fetch with Eris hounds

Gives you a fox for company when he’s not there

Sad that you don’t need your winter coat, but Eris gets a thinner coat for you made exactly like the one from your court

Walks through the forest are your favourite moments, the colourful leaves falling like snowflakes. Watching the hounds leap out of piles of leaves and nudge you closer into Eris’s arms

🦇 Azriel

Tiny snowflakes following around his shadows. Always a part of each other together

You have a pet snow fox that likes to nap on your faux fur hats, which always gets Azriel when he open the wardrobe. Fangs out as it jumps at him, but it’s become a game

Soothing his burns when they itch, the coolness of your hands in his taking his mind of it

He likes going to the winter court with you, which is a lot during the summer when you miss the snow

You got him a fur lined hat and the boys have teased him ever since, but he still wears it

Turning his shadows to ice before they can scurry back to him. Gives you a head start before anything can get back to him

Telling him about the dragons in the winter court mountains, he’s still not sure if you’re being serious or not. His shadows have definitely tried to seek them out whenever he’s in the winter court

He gets you a polar bear teddy after you tell him how much you miss seeing them in your home court

🦊 Lucien

You accidentally killed a garden in the spring court with frost after an argument with him

Charmed his way into your heart, you froze his hand when he first held yours and he hasn’t let you forget about it

“Do I make you melt?” 🫠

Lucien spending most of his time with you in the winter court when he’s not working away

His touch is sometimes too hot “do you burn for me?” You’re used to the cold so it takes a while to get used to it

Going to the human land with Lucien during summer and vowing never to go there again. You wouldn’t listen to him that you didn’t need to wear as many layers

When you’re stressed you turn ice cold, Lucien hugs you tightly to calm you down and warm you up

🦇 Cassian

Cassian’s first meeting with you was him asking about how to construct the best snowball for best impact.

Debates on the best snow Illyrian mountains vs winter court

The story he tells everyone about you finally falling for him. “Heart frozen, can you believe it.”

You are a valuable member of the winter courts army. Which means you get called back to train new recruits and keep up with latest news (cassian likes meeting you at night in your military bunk, makes him feel younger sneaking around)

Knows when he’s pissed you off as the whole house is cold, maybe even some ice trailing down the hallway

Would put a snowflake in a locket so you always have a part of home with you 🥲

The sword you keep beside you is made of ice and each time he’s tried to pick it up, it shatters. You tease him for being too strong, but don’t tell him it’s because your skin runs a lot colder than his

[phantoms-world-and-more]

Danny was sitting in an underground lab in a pit with scars across his face and neck along with his arms. He was in tattered clothes and surrounded by several other meta teens who had been experimented on. They all had power canceling collars on. "Ok everyone listen up, tonight's the night we make them pay." Danny said he had received a vision of Clockwork about a powersurge that will temporarily disable the electrical grid and allow them to take their collars off. Danny being the oldest was automatically the leader. He takes out a sharpie he stole from a scientist and started drawing out a battle plan. He was silently thanking Pandora. "I'll lead the charge, Raymond and Dylan you'll flank the guards, Erin you'll cover the rear and use your spines to take out anyone that tries to stop us, Leon you'll hack the system, Drake you'll cover him." Danny explained as the others nodded in agreement. Danny stood up tense as he waited, the power went out, the lab was filled with red light. Danny grabbed and ripped the collar from his throat and threw an energy blast at the door blasting it from the hinges. The others pulled the collars from their own throats, Danny and Erin helped the others from the pit just as the auxiliary power kicked on and the alarm started blaring. Guards flooded the hall with weapons drawn. Danny creates a sword of ice and suddenly his aura becomes extremely dangerous. "Attack!" Danny roared leading the charge. The group of teens soon make it to the main computer room leaving carnage in their wake. Danny rips off a tattered sleeve and wraps one of their wounds and then turns to see the Justice League were already there gathering intelligence. The two groups stood in a stand off at the sight of each other.

.

[outisgivingpac]

Pick-a-card: What kind of lover you are attracting?

Hello everyone, I'm back (kind of?) to deliver my first love reading ever! 👀🔥 This PAC will look into what kind of romantic (but also platonic) relationship you are inviting to your life with your current energy. Basically, we will see what personality traits you like about each other and what makes your relationship work. Be mindful that your energy changes over time, and with this collective reading, only take what resonates 🍀✨

If you want to book a personal reading with me, check out my pinned post. There you will also find the masterlist of all my free PAC! Enjoy~ 🌞

🐱Pick a pile/image you feel most drawn to🐱

Pile 1. Pile 2. Pile 3.

Pile 1: Queen of Swords, 6 of Pentacles, 4 of Swords

First of all, the kind of lover you're attracting are drawn to you by your sharp wits, as well as your fierce and independent nature. Where others find your rough exterior difficult to deal with, this person finds charm and wisdom. They like how argumentive and opinionated you are, like you won't be afraid to speak up for the underdogs and can be real protective around your loved ones. In turn, you might like this person for their generous and forgiving nature. Though their ways of living might trigger your protective instinct at first, like how could someone be so comfortable laying their heart bare? What if someone take advantages of them?? (Lol) But soon enough, you will learn their kindness didn't come from naivety, but their rich life experiences; they are someone emotionally mature and capable to give and receive love from a healthy headspace. As someone who had to navigate through life with careful calculation and always on alert, you will grow to trust this person to mean what they say and be genuine with you throughout your relationship. Fundamentally, you both see each other as a sanctuary. You know the other got your back in the end of the day, and got to "recharge" just by spending time together. Platonic or romantic, this seems to be a wholesome connection that helps you stay grounded during turbulent time.

Pile 2: 4 of Cups reversed, Page of Swords, The Moon reversed

The first thing came up when I read your cards is how it feels like you guys meet/interact with each other in a highly specific environment. Meaning, you don't neccessarily have access to each other's personal life or have constant communication, but just expect to see each other at particular time and space. You could easily be classmate or colleagues, or are sharing a mutual friend. I hear some of you would refer to each other to a third person with a really specific nickname, for example "that guy who takes double expresso" or sth like that. You like this person because they're a social-butterfly with a lotta energy. They often poke fun with you and are fairly successful. On their side, they find you interesting, despite the first impression of you being quite standoffish. You managed to take them aback several times with some witty/funny remarks. They think you have a lot to offer, long as others put effort to help break the ice. This relationship seems to be of a casual and light-hearted nature. It sounds strange but, it just works when neither parties know where they are going, nor do they try too hard to stir the boat somewhere specific. It's the kind loose committal relationship that deepen slowly overtime, like the sediment at the bottom of a river.

Pile 3: 2 of Swords, Strength, Temperance reversed

The person you're attracting seems to be someone you would usually consider as "out of your league". Unlike you who always strike for a harmony in a group, this person has a strong and upfront personality, though I won't describe them as unkind or selfish. Quite the opposite, they are incredibly wise and have a big heart of an advocate. In your eyes, they have accomplished a lot of admirable goals with their talent second to their tenacity and hard work. Comparing to them, you might find yourself too indecisive and easily flustered to step out of your comfort zone. On the other hand, they see you as someone with many contradictions and complex inner world. In conversation with you, they can tell how you have many different interests and potentials, yet more often than not surrender your choices to the circumstances or other people. On the surface, it seems like a "I can fix them" kind of attraction, but at the same time I don't sense a strong desire to force themselves in your life from this person. In other words, they are not someone who would force others to change in order to match them. But they will wait and see if you will break out of the comfort zone, or from the harmony of "how things should be", with your own conviction. If anything, they want to be one of your conscious choice, not an convenient option due to the circumstances.

[cosmichorrorsarestillnicerthanme]

Never Fade Away-Firefly X Reader

I am done using my writing for good. Now I am going to use it for evil.

A Special Thanks To @tragedy-of-commons , For The Encouragement. You Will All Suffer Because Of It.

The Stellaron Hunters could only watch helplessly from afar as you marched across the desert plain and to the Emanator who stood on the horizon, a wall of flame turning the sand around it to molten glass.

Then, with every step you took it began to snow, and then… hail.

Soon, all that was visible to them was the flame and the glowing blue ice.

And with every second that passed, the pit in Firefly’s stomach grew deeper and deeper.

She was the only one aside from Elio who knew who you were, how you fought, and what you were.

And that knowledge was truly painful to bear.

To know that in order for someone to protect you, they have to sacrifice something irreplaceable.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

“Now then, shall we see who will reign triumphant? The Ice Of Fuli, or The Flames Of Nanook?” you asked as you held the emanator’s flaming blade back with an ice covered left hand as you held you right to the side, a blade of ice forming in your palm before you sent the blade of the Lord Ravager to the side and attempted to counter by cutting their head clean off.

Unfortunately, the Emanator Of Destruction avoided the blow and jumped away with a smile.

“You’re eager to get this over with aren’t you!?” the lord ravage shouted with a laugh.

“Every blade I make is forged from a precious, irreplaceable memory…” you muttered as you held your sword aloft, pointing it at the Emanator Of Destruction.

Then, you swung it to the side, sending a wave of freezing cold wind flying towards the Ravager’s left arm.

The Lord Ravager screamed in fury and pain as its frozen arm fell to the ground, cut cleanly off at the elbow.

“And with every blade I craft, those memories are eternally lost to me. That is the price I pay as an Emanator of Remembrance. That is the price I pay to fight for those I love.” you declared as blades of ice the size of entire space stations fell from the sky.

Only to be countered by an explosive wave of flame from the Lord Ravager as it spoke.

“Heh, then I can see why you're so hasty to end this. I hope I’ll be able to kill you before you fade away.”

The time for words was over.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

For six nights and seven days the battle raged upon the desert plains as ice was pit against flame and emanator clashed against emanator. One fighting to ensure that those they love do not become memories, the other fighting without a cause beyond wanton destruction.

Storms tore across the landscape as shockwaves from the blows shook the planet to its core.

What little life lived on the surface of that desert was burned away or frozen and then shattered, turning the already inhospitable desert into nothing more than a blasted hellscape.

But, inevitably, it did come to an end.

And the first person on the scene was Firefly.

Desperate to find you, to make sure you were okay.

But you weren’t.

She knew that much when she looked into your eyes as your body began to freeze.

She knew that when you asked her a question you had asked her before.

“Please, whoever you are. I beg of you, please promise me… that you’ll never let me fade away.” you asked of her as Fuli’s power and favor was drawn out of you, your blood freezing, organs stopping, and body slowly turning to ice.

You knew it was a selfish request.

You knew you would fade away from their memories like an early morning fog.

You knew that, come tomorrow, the only ones who would remember you would be the memokeepers.

But you still asked her, this… familiar stranger to remember you.

And all Firefly could do, in response to this, was to choke back the sob at the back of her throat and tell you that she would.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Every time Firefly looked at the door, she could feel ice form in her veins.

It was the same feeling she got when she looked at the one extra mug in the cabinets that no one ever used.

It was the same feeling she got when she wondered why she had clothes that weren’t hers in her closet.

It was the same feeling she got when SAM reminded her about a day that she had no idea why she had set a reminder for.

It was the same feeling she got when she saw Kafka’s cat lay in the one extra seat that no one ever sat in.

She wanted to open the door.

She really did.

But… she couldn’t.

Just like how everyone wouldn’t say anything about the room, or the mug, or the seat, she couldn’t bring herself to mention it.

All she could do was sit there, looking at the door, feeling the ice in her blood grow colder and colder as faded and forgotten memories pricked at the back of her head until she began to cry for a reason she could never figure out.

All she could do was wonder what was behind the door.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Blade looked at the drawer with a conflicted expression.

“So then Bladie, what are you going to do?” Kafka asked as she stood in the doorway.

“I… do not know.” the swordsman responded simply as he continued to look at the drawer, ice slowly encasing his soul and the many memories that he had long forgotten trying to bring themselves back from the dead.

“Neither do I.” Kafka muttered.

“Was this not in Elio’s script?” Blade asked gruffly.

“It was.” Kafka answered.

“Was?” Blade muttered.

“It was erased, all of it. Everything pertaining to whoever left whatever is in that drawer in your hands is simply gone.” Kafka answered simply.

“I see…” the swordsman muttered.

“So then Bladie, any smart ideas?” Kafka asked as she crossed her arms.

“None. All I know is who the box was for.” Blade answered.

“A Box?” Kafka asked, surprised.

“A small black box was left in my care until the day came for it to be given to Firefly. That is all I remember.” Blade muttered.

“A small…” Kafka went silent as the gears turned in her head.

Then she spoke, her voice taking on a tone filled with sadness.

“Oh…”

“Correct.” Blade declared as he forced his body to fight the cold that had enveloped him so he could reach for the drawer to open it, revealing a box that was the perfect size to hold a ring inside of it.

[operationslipperypuppet]

Home is Where the Hearth Is - Emily Axford (2024)

they made a pact. they broke the pact. they spent tens of thousands of years alone. and now, perhaps, they can start to be whole again.

image description under the cut:

[ID: two images that are show comic panels.

the first image is 16 comic panels showing words and drawings to correlate with the words.

from left to right, top to bottom, they are:

1: a light green background with the words "they say the" and then a gold circle with a cross stitch inside it, with the words "home is where the hearth is" stitched in, with a roof above "home" and a fireplace between the i and s of "is".

2: a light yellow panel showing a gold dragon breathing fire and a large yellow divine heart with blue and green veins with a humanoid with yellow hair, yellow skin, green pants, a brown tunic, and brown boots, (Telaine, the gold dragon) reaching out to touch it. there is a green and gold overlay to both so they appear to be glowing. the words over it say "and fire heals the soul".

3: a light blue panel with darker blue footprints moving through the panel, as though walking through snow. the words read "but you've been trudging through the cold".

4: a wintry scene with a humanoid in a green cloak with yellow pants and green, leaf-covered boots (Melora), cloak blowing in the wind. the sky is gray and the ground in front of her shows a blue patch of ice. blue snow overlays the entire scene. the words read "you have been traveling through ice and snow".

5: a light green panel showing a teal pocket watch and a green arrow with green, yellow, and blue feathers. the words read "'cause time isn't an arrow".

6: a light blue panel with a dark blue man, Aryox, with his chin tilted upwards, a blue knife pointing at his throat, lifting his chin upwards. the blue knife is inscribed with runes. the words read “it’s a dagger at your throat”.

7: a light blue panel showing two figures, frozen statues, one teal (Aryox) and one a different shade of light blue (Raedak). Raedak’s arms are extended and he is holding a sword, which has intercepted Aryox’s head. Aryox’s elbows are bent and shards of ice, the same color as him, extend into Raedak. the words read “and you are numb from head to toe”.

8: a light yellow panel showing a gray divine heart with golden veins. three hands; one blue, one green, and one yellow, extend toward the heart, as though to take it. the words read “and all your blood has turned to stone”.

9: a light green panel showing a log cabin with one side blue, one side green, a yellow roof with a green chimney, and a green window and door. below it is a green hand reaching out to the right as though to take another hand that is not there. the words read “so come home to me”.

10: a light green panel with a small fire on two logs and a purple and white tea pot with leaves as part of its design and steam coming out of the spout. the words read “the fire’s warm and I am making tea”.

11: a light green panel showing an image of the sun with an orange center and yellow rays surrounding it and a cream yellow crescent moon below it, surrounded by stars. the words read “the day has turned to night”.

12: a light blue panel showing a blue hand turned downward and blueish gray snowflakes extending down from the hand. below it is a smaller image of the frozen statues from panel 7, one teal (Aryox) and one a different shade of light blue (Raedak). Raedak’s arms are extended and he is holding a sword, which has intercepted Aryox’s head. Aryox’s elbows are bent and shards of ice, the same color as him, extend into Raedak. the words read “and all the snow has hardened into ice”.

13: a light green panel with an image of a pair of green boots with leaves drawn into them that have green laces, the boots Melora is wearing in panel 4. the toes and bottoms of the boots are speckled with light blue water stains. the words read “your boots are stained with slush”.

14: an outdoor scene with Melora, clad in her green cloak and green boots which are blowing in the wind approaching a light blue cave with a different blue interior. in front of the mouth of the cave is a light blue arctic fox, Lumi, who is glowing with a blue aura. the wall of the cave immediately inside of it is carved with an image of a gray divine heart with golden veins. three hands; one blue, one green, and one yellow, extend toward the heart, as though to take it, from panel 8. the sky is a grayish blue and snow overlays the entire image. the words read “and the northern winds ain’t letting up”.

15: a light yellow panel showing an image of an intricate gold cloak with a hood and many shades of yellow to create shadows and an intricate pattern. the words read “and your best coat can’t compete”.

16: a light green panel with a wooden window showing a purple night sky with the cream yellow crescent moon and stars from panel 11. in the foreground is a dark wooden table with two pairs of arms and hands on it, one pair is yellow and the other pair is green. the arms are resting on the table and the people are holding hands. the words read “with an evening in good company”.

the second image is 15 comic panels showing words and drawings to correlate with the words.

from left to right, top to bottom, they are:

1: a light blue image showing the teal head and torso of the frozen statue of Aryox from panel 7 of the above image. halfway down the torso, the color changes to the dark blue color he is in panel 6 of the above image (when he was alive). the dark blue is giving way to the teal. the words read “frozen half to death”.

2: a light blue panel showing an image of a pink bowl of hot soup on a matching pink plate with a spoon resting on the plate. the broth in the bowl is tan and has green onions floating on its surface. there is gray steam coming out of the bowl. below it is an image of a bed with a brown wooden frame. the made is made with purple sheets and pillows under a royal blue blanket. the words read “you need a hot meal and your bed”.

3: a light blue panel showing an image of a cushioned purple armchair. draped over the chair is a flannel blanket, the majority of which is yellow but has dark blue vertical stripes and dark green horizontal stripes. there is a fringe at the edge of the blanket that is alternating with the blue, green, and yellow of the rest of the blanket. the words read “you need a blanket and some rest”.

4: a light blue panel showing an image of a small purple teacup with brown liquid inside and steam coming off the top. there is a lemon wedge on the rim of the cup. below it is an image of a piece of brown bread with a layer yellow butter covering its surface. the words read “you need a toddy and some buttered bread”.

5: a panel that is twice the size of the other panels, separated into three triangles by gray lines. the left triangle shows a gold dragon flying upwards with its mouth open with a light green background. the center and largest triangle shows a temple with dark and light green stones constructing it, and large columns at the front. the top of the temple has a craving of a wavelike swirl at the center, the symbol of the goddess Melora. the right triangle shows a gray divine heart with golden veins. three hands; one blue, one green, and one yellow, extend toward the heart, as though to take it, the image from panel 8 of the above image, on a blue background like the cave wall in panel 14 of the above image. there are a pair of blue hands in front of it, holding a chisel and mallet, carving that image into the cave wall. the words across the top of the three triangles read “wear the mantle like an albatross” and across the bottom read “and never take it off”.

6: a light blue panel showing an image of the teal torso and head the frozen statue of Aryox from panel 7 of the above image, with the light blue sword of Raedak overlaying his head, as it does in the statue. the words read “you let yourself grow numb”.

7: a light blue panel showing a green hand reaching out to the back of the frozen teal statue of Aryox from panel 7 of the above image. between the statue are layers of blue and purple energy, keeping the hand away from being able to touch the statue. the words read “‘cause you’re too proud to need someone”.

8: a light yellow panel showing a log cabin with one side blue, one side green, a yellow roof with a green chimney, and a green window and door. below it is a yellow hand reaching out to the right as though to take another hand that is not there. the words read “so come home to me”.

9: a light yellow panel with a small fire on two logs and a purple and white tea pot with leaves as part of its design and steam coming out of the spout. the words read “the fire’s warm and I am making tea”.

10: a light yellow panel showing an image of the sun with an orange center and yellow rays surrounding it and a cream yellow crescent moon below it, surrounded by stars. the words read “the day has turned to night”.

11: a light blue panel showing a blue hand turned downward and blueish gray snowflakes extending down from the hand. below it is a smaller image of the frozen statues from panel 7 of the above image, one teal (Aryox) and one a different shade of light blue (Raedak). Raedak’s arms are extended and he is holding a sword, which has intercepted Aryox’s head. Aryox’s elbows are bent and shards of ice, the same color as him, extend into Raedak. the words read “and all the snow has hardened into ice”.

12: an image showing the blue cave wall with an icy blue floor and the feet and legs teal statue of Aryox. there is an additional layer of blue ice overlaying the feet of the statue. the words read “the cold has got its claws in you”.

13: an outdoor scene of two figures walking together through the snow up a light blue hill. on the left is Melora, in her green cloak, green boots, and yellow pants, braid peeking out from the cloak which is blowing with the wind. to her right is Telaine, with a golden yellow cloak, brown boots, and light blue pants. the sky is a slightly darker blue than the ground. snow overlays the scene. the words read “oh, the weather she can be so cruel”.

14: a light blue panel showing the torso of the teal frozen statue of Aryox. on the part of his leg that is visible is a pair of snowdrops, white bell shaped flowers drooping off of green stems. at his back are two hands, a yellow one above a green one, both of which are touching him. dark blue emanates from both hands, spreading throughout the rest of him in concentric circles. the words read “but home is where the healing starts”.

15: a light yellow panel with an image of 4 arms and hands, one yellow and one green each holding the hands of the two blue arms, as though to guide them somewhere. below that is an image of a fireplace, with brick walls, a stone border, and wooden mantle and baseboards. there is a fire at the center with two logs, the same one from panel 9 of this image. the words read “so come in from the dark and find the hearth”. /end ID]

[cosycafune]

THE WHISPERING, FiRST SNOW; CHOSO KAMO:

a summary of the chapter: you’re bound to be placed into an arranged marriage, simply because that’s what your father requests. but, what happens when the man you promised to see the snow with, for the first time, shows up when the snowfall begins? yet, that snowfall is a tradition you are supposed to spend with your arranged fiancé, even if you don’t yearn for it.

a synopsis of acts: angst, mentions of nudity, snowfall, anxiety, crying, guilt, mentions of sex, neglect, confusion, pleading, breaking the ice, talks of the arranged marriage + potential more.

Pelting snow adorns upon your features as you linger within the cultivating snow. It takes everything within you to escape the homely grasp of the snow, treading towards Choso’s presence.

Even as one so lavish, foolishly rich and established, your heart still longs for the beauty of the soldier that lingers in front of you. A general that has slaughtered the vacancy of your heart, storing himself within.

An ounce of you knows that marrying the man in front of you is something malicious, scandalous and full of misfortune. Yet, your heart yearns to gather and decipher the mystery of Choso Kamo. A playful but reserved man to you, but a relentless killer to the eyes of many within battle.

Innately, you festoon him with all there is to you — but you remain a princess. A princess with an iron-like empire, completely dictated by the traditional aspects of your family. A royal family that longs to set you with the suitor, Satoru Gojo, instead of the man who lingers in front of you.

Even battered and bruised, the mentally and physically stained aspects of him grow ignored by your family. As Choso pools with an unheard magenta hue, he’s still decorated with the uncertainty of a well-groomed you. Someone who reaps the benefits of him, concealing your secret relationship as he does so with you — his heart residing in the cosiness of you.

The both of you so dearly cherish, love and depict each other in forbidden thorns. Yet, the two of you are home to another, a mellowness that no one else can fathom. Can fathom, even if you are to be subjected to marry a man that wasn’t Choso.

Drawn in by a troubling force of strained conflict, love, angst and undying pain, your eyes greet Choso’s wavering ones. Ones that waver as his fidgety fingers capture the texture of his sword, the snow completely contrasting the darkness of his sickly emotions.

But even with his clear burdens of emotions, the darkness of his strained eyes, Choso still conducts himself into greeting your painfully starry eyes. Eyes that always glimpses at him with unforgiving wisdom, pride, love, hope and fondness.

However, they are licked upon with a clouded guilt that completely consumes you. Innately, you long for Choso to jog over to you, to lift you up and beautifully twirl you, kiss you and cherish you within this beautiful snow. Within the first realms of snow that the two of you have ever viewed together.

After all, despite everything that has happened between the both of you, Choso promised to at least view the first waves of habitable snow with you. It was something he promised to you, as you nakedly lay beside him, coddling him and relishing the slowness of his calm heart. A melodic heart you wish to accompany, listening to their mellow drums and Choso’s rare laugher.

Choso’s here though, within the flesh. Yet, you ponder — steering yourself into igniting thoughts about Choso. They’re undying thoughts as you linger, unsure of how to spew your first words to his desperate expression. An expression that comes for one answer: to find out whether or not you are bound to marry Satoru Gojo.

An emperor, a prince, a dream-like prince charming and the heart of the nation.

“C-Cho’?” Meekly conducting your question, you steer your wavering eyes towards him. Wavering eyes despite you longing for him to elongate the silence, unsure of whether you want him to address the cruel silence and dreary future.

“It’s snowing,” Choso lightly notifies you, his stern eyes overtaken with emotions at your lack of suggestiveness.

“Tell me why you’re really here, Cho’?” Sheepishly, you accustom yourself to spewing words that deflect your reasoning of truth.

“Is it true that you’re marrying Gojo Satoru?” Gently, Choso questions an uncertain you — his lurching arms unable to cool their sombreness.

“Yes, but my papa arranged it!” Whining, you cast yourself into bundling up your troubling dress — running in the unlevelled snow towards a vulnerable Choso.

“Do you want to marry him?” Picking up on the sorrow within Choso’s vocals, you observe him insincerely plaster you within his broad arms — his lips adorning the top of your snow-infested forehead.

“I-I want you, but I can’t evade my father!” Ranting with delightful motivation, you take notice of Choso’s fingers darting down to stain upon your gentle cheek.

“You can’t have me and him,” Glimpsing into Choso’s gentle eyes, your watery eyes are acknowledged by Choso. By Choso as you analyse the battle bruise upon Choso’s supple cheek.

“I-I don’t want to lose you, Cho’, I love you,” Informing him, your lips quiver before Choso raises your chin — plastering his supple lips upon your own.

“I love you, too, but Satoru Gojo’s going to be your husband,” Regretfully, Choso mutters — allowing the intensity of his passionate kisses to reform into ones of temporary desperation.

“He may be father’s best suitor, but you’re who I want,” Softly breathing between your love-stuffed kisses of unaligned structured, you glance at Choso, “I want you! I want you! You, Cho’! I don’t want him!” Weeping, you plunge your longing lips upon his own — unwilling to be drifted from your lover.

“I live a life of battle and war, so there’ll be a day where I don’t come home,” Choso’s words are ignited with a firm stoicism, “Gojo’s the strongest fighter of our generation, he’s beautiful and he’ll be more permanent for you than I am—”

“—Cho’! Don’t say that! I wan’t just you!” Grasping upon the torn lapels of Choso’s shirt, your fingers crumble and recklessly grasp upon Choso’s barely kept-together presence.

“With all the jujutsu wars going on, I could die and never come back and he’ll be perfect for you,” Intricately, Choso conducts his points, his plump lips continuously marking your yearning lips, “I think you should consider marrying Satoru, even if it means I can’t have you—”

“—Fuck you! Do you really think I would give up on you that easily?!” Shouting with the urge to be deciphered and heard, you crazily bang upon Choso’s chest — desperate for him to gift you reasons as to why you should define your royal hierarchy.

“No! But tell me when you want to have just me,” Trembling, Choso’s heart falters at the lack of conclusiveness, “I love you, and I’ll wait for you as long as it takes, even if war takes me and I have to find you in our next life—”

“—Thank you for seeing the snow with me, Cho’,” Comfortably thanking Choso, your heart aches the moment you feel him willingly begin to slip from your grasp.

“I couldn’t miss the first snow with you,” Those were the last words Choso had presented you with, all before he cast himself into leaving you within the snow — unpleasantly vacant and in uncomfortable tears.

Vacancy was all that adorned you and the first whispers of snow that you couldn’t escape.

—

all rights reserved; vampiified, 2024. please do not copy my works, but reblogs are appreciated.

[oh-snapperss]

After a six month break, myself and @hitheeprithee are beyond excited to share the prequel/sequel to our Rentho knights fic!

Summary:

So why, as Etho recited his final promise – “I am yours” – did Ren still feel that curdling, ice-cold dread traveling through him? He shook it off along with the still-lingering want, allowing his grief to catch him instead again. There was no time for this sort of tumultuous thinking, no time to dig into the why it bothered Ren so deeply. Ren’s duty as king was first. Ren raised the sword above his head, dipping it to either side of Etho’s shoulders. “I do hereby knight thee, Sir Ethoslab, into the order of the Red Army. Arise, Knight, and be recognized.” And if Ren wished he could say something else, who was to say? --- A prequel and sequel to It's Not Tonight I'm Set Alight, wherein war approaches and ends, and parallels are drawn.

Chapters: 1/4

Warnings for this chapter: Minor/Background character death

Words: 6,508

good to be back <3