Fictional Men Who Have The “it’s Okay To Murder People But It’s Never Okay To Disrespect Women”

Incense correspondences

🕯Allspice - Money, fortune, luck, prosperity

🕯Aloe - Higher vibrations, prosperity, strength, love

🕯Amber - Bliss, healing, comfort, love

🕯Anise - Balance, meditation

🕯Basil - Protection, luck, focus, faithfulness, money, love divination, courage

🕯Bay - Mental powers, prophetic dreams

🕯Bergamont - Wealth, happiness, focus, protection, courage, balance, motivation

🕯Cardomom - Focus, courage, motivation, clarity

🕯Cedar - Purification, love, healing, psychic powers, nightmares

🕯Chamomile - Protection, calm, peace, sleep

🕯Cinnamon - Protection, wealth, success, prosperity, psychic powers

🕯Clove - Cleansing, purification, wealth, stopping gossip, healing, success, divination, protection

🕯Copal - Purification, happiness, love, protection

🕯Citrus - Brightness, courage, confidence, luck, accomplishing goals

🕯Dragons Blood - Cleansing, energy, courage, purification, love, strengthening magical powers

🕯Eucalyptus - Cleansing, protection, purification, healing

🕯Frankincense - Cleansing, astral travel, courage, purification, consecration, protection, meditation, luck

🕯Gardenia - Love, relationships, healing, peace

🕯Ginger - Money, love, power

🕯Heather - Calling and conjuring

🕯Honeysuckle - Wealth, bliss, relationships, healing

🕯Jasmine - Prophetic dreams, love, wealth, purification, astral projection, purification 

🕯Juniper - Breaking curses and hexes, protection, psychic powers, healing, calmness

🕯Lavender - Sleep, love, cleansing, happiness, relaxation, healing

🕯Lemon - Love, healing, purification

🕯Mint - Cleansing, conjuring, money, sex, healing, protection

🕯Nutmeg - Psychic powers, meditation, prosperity

🕯Orange - Love, divination, wealth, luck

🕯Peppermint - Healing, animal magic, energy

🕯Pine - Purification, banishing, wealth, strength, grounding, cleansing, breaking hexes, healing

🕯Rose - Prophetic dreams, courage, fertility, blessings, healing, love

🕯Rosemary - Depression, purification, healing, youth, fairies, sleep

🕯Sage - Protection, purification, cleansing, wisdom, healing

🕯Sandalwood - Conjuring, spirituality, protection, healing, astral projection, wishes

🕯Sweetgrass - Conjuring, positive energy

🕯Thyme - Purification, healing, health.

🕯Vanilla - Sex, love, psychic powers

🕯Violet - Luck, love, wisdom, healing, protection

🕯Wormwood - Psychic powers

🕯Ylang-ylang - Hapiness, love, harmony

Misha’s undying love for his adorable son shall not go unseen [x]

MASSIVE TRIGGER WARNING: Mentions of unaliving self, PTSD, Bucky have flash backs, vomiting, loss of pregnancy, ED if you squint, lots and lots and lots of angst. sad, saaaad, Bucky :(

female!reader x steve and bucky love triangle (not as much here)

Side note: HI! I'M SO SORRY! I LOVE YOU ALL:) *also if the text is in italics it means there's a flashback*

part 1

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It had been almost a month since Bucky had last seen Y/N. Tony and Steve thought it was best for Y/N to be admitted to the psychiatric ward at the near by hospital. But you have been gone a month. And you didn't put Bucky down on the approved list of people that could come visit you. The only thing he had left of you was the last conversation you guys had, and it was slowly driving him insane.

"Bucky? Where are they taking me? I don't wanna go." You were still loopy from the anesthesia Banner had used during your surgery. The way you were talking to him made it seem like you had just forgotten everything that had happened over the last 3 months.

"Shh, it's okay." Bucky said softly. Talking still hurt his throat. "But you gotta. You gotta get better, okay?" You nodded and sniffled. "Don't cry doll. It's all gonna be okay." He tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, like he always did when you were upset.

"What happened to your face?" You muttered, your fingers grazing across the cut on his cheek bone. Bucky flinched at your touch, not wanting to remember how it felt.

"Don't worry, doll. Just get some rest. I'll see you soon." Bucky stood up from beside the cot and nodded at the paramedics who were standing close by to take you to the hospital.

"Bucky?" You asked quietly.

"Yeah, doll?" He could feel the hot tears in his eyes getting ready to spill over.

"I love you."

"Bucky," Sam tapped his shoulder. "Are you listening?"

"Sorry." He mumbled. "Just thinking." He rested his elbows on his knees and leaned forward, wringing his hands together.

"I asked how you were doing?" Sam repeated.

"I'm fine."

"Don't do that Buck." He scoffed, slumping into his chair. "You gotta talk about this shit, man. And I know you normally talk to Steve but-"

"Sam, don't."

"Bucky-"

"I don't need your fucking pity.” Bucky growled, getting to his feet. Sam stared into his eyes with exactly what Bucky was upset about; pity.

"I am trying, damnit." Sam seethed through his teeth. "I am trying to hold you together and I am trying to hold Steve together. I hate being the middle man but if you two want to act like you're in high school and give each other the silent treatment, then I'll do it. I don't like seeing my friends hurting." He sighed and rubbed his temples. "You are very clearing showing signs of PTSD, and if you just let me help you, I can try to make it better."

"Everyone hates me, Sam." Bucky changed the subject.

"No, they don't. They're worried about you." Sam tossed his arms up in the air, exasperated. "You and Steve lost so much in one night, they're scared for you. They are mourning with you, Bucky. Please understand that."

Bucky scoffed and rolled his eyes. "I gotta go, this was pointless."

"Bucky-" He didn't hear what else Sam had to say before he shut the door to his office behind him and stormed down the hallway. He scoffed and shook his head. Fucking therapy. Tony had forced him to go or else he was sending him some place like Y/N was. He didn't need it anybody’s help, he was fine.

Bucky had wondered around the compound for hours after been you’d taken away, unsure of where he was going. This place felt so empty without Y/N here. He felt so empty. He found himself standing outside Steve's room after walking for hours. The sun was starting to rise now. His arm jerked as if he wanted to knock on the door, but he couldn't do it.

Then why did he knock?

Steve opened the door and was standing in front of him, eyes red from crying. His hair a mess. He definitely didn't look like the calm and collected Captain America.

"What the fuck do you want?" He spat, glaring down at his best friend.

"I-" Bucky was at a loss for words. "I don't know."

Steve laughed bitterly. "Get the fuck out of my face before I knock your teeth out."

"Steve, please-" Bucky's voice broke. "I need-I need you. Please."

"You need me?" Steve hissed. "What about what I need, huh? Does how I feel just not matter to you?”

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, staring down at his feet. He couldn’t look Steve in the eyes any longer.

“You were fucking her.” Steve laughed, almost as it was a joke. “You were fucking my girl. You got my girl pregnant, and she tried to kill herself. Because of you, Bucky. So get out of my face. I don’t care what you have to say.”

"You're the only one-" Bucky tried desperately. He needed to talk. And Steve was the only one who understood.

"Save it, I don't wanna hear it. You ever show up at my door again," He took a deep breath, his eyes falling on the bruising cut that was on his cheek. "I won't stop this time." Steve slammed the door in Bucky's face.

Bucky was standing in front of Y/N's room. The door had long opened and an empty room was staring back. After you had left, Pepper and Nat had cleaned your room up the best that they could. While cleaning they had found an ultrasound picture hidden away in your nightstand. Nat said she wanted to throw it out but Pepper stole it from her and brought it to Bucky one evening. Bucky didn't know what to do with it so he brought it back to your room, stashing it away where you had kept it. He didn't want to take anything out of your room for when you came back. He wanted it to look like how you had left it. Well- before you destroyed it anyway.

Bucky slowly sat down on the edge of the bed, the springs groaning at the sudden weight on it. No one had sat here in a long time. Bucky heaved a sigh and hung his head, his long hair made a curtain around his face. You were always telling him to cut it.

A frown crept onto his lips, silently cursing himself. You teasing him about his hair is was started this whole thing. It was 4 months ago, you guys had most of the compound to yourself and were passing the time playing a drinking game.

He still remembers the smile on your face when you had brought up his hair, thinking it was hilarious how it was so long. Your laugh was more intoxicating than the alcohol the two of you were consuming. He just couldn't stop staring at you, your beautiful eyes, your hair that smelled like lavender, your gorgeous smile. And every time you leaned over it would expose your cleavage from the top of the thin tank top you had on. By the time you were done giggling Bucky had leaned in and grabbed your face, pressing his lips firmly against yours. You were stunned at first but quickly gave into his advances, as you had been waiting for this moment too.

A noise outside the room made Bucky snap back to reality.

"Thought I would find you here." A soft voice whispered. It was Nat. She gave him a soft smile before sitting down on the edge of the bed beside him. "It okay if I sit?" Bucky shrugged his shoulders and nodded. "Sam said you're having a bad day."

"Sam doesn't know shit."

"I know some days are tougher than others. You seemed to be doing okay last week. Actually saw you smile." She laughed quietly. Bucky didn't say anything. "She's not dead, Bucky."

"Why the fuck-"

"Shut up and listen." Any hint of kindness in her voice was gone. "I'm not like Sam, I'm not gonna coddle you. She is alive and is doing better, I just came from the hospital."

"We'll I'm glad you got to see her." He scoffed.

"I know you're not gonna hear what I have to say, but just listen to this- you are not alone, Bucky. Okay? I know none of that matters because you don't have the people you love most around you. But the rest of us are you for you, and Steve. Okay?" Bucky opened his mouth to snap something back but Nat held up her hand. "Just tell me you understand, okay? Because if I have to clean up one more persons blood off the floor I am going to loose my mind."

Bucky sighed and nodded his head. "Okay. I understand." Nat patted him on the shoulder before standing up and left the room. A tear dribbled down his cheek and he quickly whipped it away. Why couldn’t everyone just leave him alone?

Absolutely exhausted, he kicked his shoes off and laid down, not wanting to pick himself up and walk back to his room. Everything just felt too heavy. His eyes slowly fluttered shut, no matter how hard Bucky fought against it. But it was just too heavy.

"Hey, I need to talk to you." Banner said quietly, standing in Bucky's door way.

"What?" Bucky grumbled from his spot on the bed. "If it's about checking my head, I don't want to hear it. I'm fine, he didn’t hit me that hard.”

"No, it's not that. I need to know-"

"Then what?"

"I need to know what you want to do with the fetus...the baby." He shifted his weight back and forth.

A heavy silence surrounded the two of them. "Why me?" Bucky croaked out finally.

"Well, you're the father and-"

"Don't. Don't call me that." Bucky pointed a stern finger at him Bruce stood there awkwardly, waiting for Bucky to tell him what to do. He blinked back a few tears and cleared his throat. "What do you think I should do?"

"Well, everyone else thinks you should bury him."

Him. It was a boy. Bucky was going to have a son. His son. Y/N's son. Our son.

"Then bury him."

"I think you should go."

"I don't want to."

"Bucky, please. You need to cope."

"Oh yeah, and how should I do that, doctor?" Bucky snapped back. Bruce sighed, defeated. "Go fucking burry the thing and get over it. I don't want to be there, got it?" Why was he saying this? That's not what he wanted to say.

"Okay. Sorry for bothering you." Banner exited his room in a defeated sigh, his shoulder hunched over.

Some more time ticked by before there was another knock on the door. Bucky jumped slightly as he just starting to fall asleep. He hadn't slept in about two days and it was starting to take a toll on him. The evening sun cast shadows that danced around in his dark room.

"Bruce I swear-" He opened the door and stepped back, surprised. It was Pepper. She smiled shyly at him. Bucky thinks she hasn't said more than 10 words with him since he came to live at the compound a year ago. Mostly just awkward good mornings when they came into the kitchen at the same time to get coffee. Pepper always got up early but Bucky was fed up of trying to fall asleep.

"Oh. Did...did you need something?" He asked looking down at her. Pepper wasn't as hard as everyone else at the compound, she hasn’t seen the things everyone else had. He had barely spoken to her and there were already tears forming in her eyes.

"Nat-" She cleared her throat and attempted to wipe the tears away from her eyes. "Nat and I were cleaning up Y/N's room, so it won't be a mess when she comes back. And we'll we found this." She held out some grainy pictures. Bucky wasn't sure what he was looking at.

"What are these?" He muttered, taking them from her.

"They're ultrasound pictures. I guess she knew..." She cleared her throat again, fighting back the urge to cry. "Sorry. I guess she knew about the pregnancy. Nat wanted to throw them out but I thought you should have them."

Bucky didn't know what to say. He didn't want to open his mouth and rip Peppers head off, because he knew that she was just trying to be nice. Trying to make him feel better, but honestly it was just making him feel worse. If you knew you were pregnant why did you try to kill yourself? Or is that why you tried to kill yourself?

Before he could think of what to say, a sob ripped through his chest, his knees giving out under him. Pepper moved quickly to his side and threw her small body against Bucky's, wrapping him up in a hug. She tried to hold him up the best she could, but they crumpled to the ground together.

"I'm so sorry, Bucky." She cried. Her hands grabbed the back of his shirt, like she was trying to keep him from falling apart. It wasn’t working. It felt like someone was chiseling away at his heart. He clutched the ultrasound pictures to his chest, another sob wracking through his body. He wanted Y/N. He wanted you here with him, mourning the loss of your child together. "I'm so sorry." Pepper repeated. Bucky gently pushed her away and tried to calm himself down.

"Thank you for these, Pepper." He babbled. "But I need to be alone. Please leave me alone." She shook her head at what he was saying and tried to protest. He held up his hand to stop her. “Go. Just go.” He pleaded. Finally, she left him there, sitting in the door way, holding the only pictures of his son that he would ever get.

Bucky woke up with a gasp, his clothes were soaked and sticking to his skin from his sweat and it felt like his heart was going to explode out of his chest, his stomach churning in knots. He scrambled out your bed and into the bathroom and vomited into the toilet. These fucking dreams would not leave him alone. Ever since you left that's all he was able to dream about.

He spilled his guts out a few more times before slumped down beside the toilet, he shoved his head in hands and took a few deep breathes, trying to ease his spinning head. He gagged at the taste of vomit in his mouth and spit into the toilet again. Standing up shakily, he looked at himself in the mirror that was above the sink. He hated the person looking back. He looked sick, disgusting.

Saying Bucky looked rough was an understatement. His eyes were sunken in, which were accompanied by dark bags. His hair was ratty and dull and he hadn't trimmed his beard in weeks. He had also lost weight and muscle mass from not being able to eat. He couldn't. The only thing he was able to keep down was chicken broth and he hardly even eat that. He had no desire to work out either. His metal arm, which he usually polished at least once a week was dull too. And covered in scratches from him clawing at it in the middle of the night.

Bucky sighed heavily and rinsed his mouth and face with water. Patting his face dry with a towel he realized for the first time, he was starving. He could smell someone cooking bacon down in the kitchen and it made his mouth water.

Maybe Sam was right, Bucky did need to talk about this. Or maybe Steve was the one who was right. This was all his fault. He made the first move on you. The baby was his. Everything was his fault. Maybe if he had just left you alone, none of this would have happened. He couldn’t think straight anymore, nothing made sense without you here.

He pushed his thoughts out of his head as he remade your bed. Picking up his boots from off the ground, he slowly made his way back to his room. It was a hot mess inside, more than normal. Bucky doesn't remember the last time he picked anything up. He discarded his sticky clothes and got into the shower, letting the hot water fall over his skin. He hummed contently as he washed his hair, yanking to get the knots out. While he was in there he trimmed his beard the best he could without looking in a mirror.

Getting out and rubbed the steam off the mirror and looked at himself again. His beard and his hair looked better, but his eyes still looked empty. He still felt empty. Bucky tossed on some clothes that smelled the cleanest, which happened just an old pair of sweats and a t-shirt.

Taking a deep breath he left his room, or his cave, as Sam called it, and went down to the kitchen. It seemed like everyone was there, talking and laughing together. Bucky felt an instant nauseous feeling build in his stomach as eyes fell on him. He felt like an outsider, no, he was an outsider. Always has been as always will be

"Hey, Buck." Sam greeted, pulling Bucky out of his thoughts. "There's coffee in the pot if you want some." Bucky gave him a small smile and poured himself a cup, and grabbed a few pieces of bacon and fruit that was cut up. He sat down beside Sam and cleared this throat. Sam looked down at the small amount of food that Bucky had gathered and frowned slightly, but refrained from saying anything. He should be glad he was eating at all.

"Where's Steve at this morning?" Bucky asked, taking a sip of coffee, which stung going down his throat.

"Oh, he went to visit Y/N." Sam replied nonchalantly.

"Hm." Bucky stared down at his food, which suddenly repulsed him. Maybe this was a mistake, he should have stay in his room. Sam silently cursed himself for bring you up and tried to change the conversation.

"Sleep any better last night?" Sam questioned.

"A little. Fell asleep about an hour after we got done talking." He shrugged. “Woke up a little bit ago.”

"So you slept for 14 hours?" Sam chuckled. "We got done talking at 5, so you were out for 14 hours. I'd call that pretty good sleep."

"Doesn't mean it was restful."

"It's still a good thing that you slept through the night." Sam took a bite out of his bacon. "Oh my god, I swear Vision makes the best food." He goaded. Sam was obviously trying to get Bucky to eat.

"I know." Bucky faked a smile as he couldn't shake the feeling that he was going to get sick again. The feeling suddenly got overwhelming and he suddenly stood to his feet, his chair scrapping loudly against the floor, which caused everyone to stop and look. They watched as Bucky disappeared down the hall to the bathroom.

There was nothing in Bucky's stomach for him to throw up, besides that little bit of coffee. He was now just dry heaving, spit trickling down his chin. He just wanted this to go away, why couldn't it go away? Bucky heaved into the toilet one last time before picking his head up, wiping away the spit that was now traveling down his neck. He noticed there was a slight red tinge to it.

He brought his knees up to his chest and his hands shook as he pushed his hair out of his eyes. The room was spinning, he was so dizzy. His mouth felt he had just chewed on chalk. He was a super solider, god damn it. He wasn't supposed to feel like this. Something wasn’t right.

He slowly got to his feet, hanging onto the sink for support. Slowly he made his way back to the kitchen, leaning against the wall so he wouldn’t fall over. He just needed to get to Banner. Banner would know what to do.

Back in the kitchen, Bucky could hardly see. His vision was darkening and his ears were ringing. He could feel eyes on him. Gripping the wall for support, he dry heaved again. “Bucky?” Someone asked, concern in their voice. That voice. He knew that voice.

“Y/N?” He panted, his head snapping up. The quick action made his head spin and his grip on the wall loosened. He caught a glimpse of you right before he fell on his face, vision going black, everything falling silent.

part 3

EVERYBODY stop whatever the fuck you're doing.. and watch this masterpiece

stay with me pt 1

<Azriel Shadowsinger x OFC>

short story of one of our favorite bat boys.

warnings: heavy alcohol consumption, mentions of trauma, light smut, 18+ MDNI!!!!

part two, part three, part four, part five

✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖° ✧˖°

The pulsing music at Rita’s felt like it was mimicking the rapid heartbeat in Ophiela’s chest. Every dip and sway that she was led into by strange males made her feel heady and dizzy. It felt like her feet barely touched the floor as she was spun into arm after arm, song after song. The three bottles of wine that her and Mor consumed before coming didn’t help either.

Like Nesta, dancing made her feel something. Less empty, less of a broken shell. Like the patterns she twirled into on the dance floor could somehow form the broken shards of herself back together.

From her place in the crowd she could spy her friends sitting at the permanently reserved table, playing a game of cards. All were focused on the current hand, throwing chips into the pile and cursing at each other. All except one pair of dark hazel eyes. He was almost invisible, tucked into the corner, his black leathers causing him to blend in even more. But beneath the swirling mass of darkness, Ophelia could see him.

Maybe that was one difference between her and Prythians most notorious spymaster. He was comfortable in the dark where no one could see him. But Ophelia was most comfortable under the blazing lights, where almost anyone could see her. Where she could paint a face was calm and happy, and no one would suspect a thing. They were almost exact opposites, but maybe that’s what attracted her to him.

Strong hands suddenly gripped her waist and she was being pulled against a hard chest, breaking her staring contest with the spymaster. The male laughed in her ear, saying something. But she wasn’t sure what he said, her head was swimming by this point. She danced with him for a bit before excusing herself and pushed her way through the churning bodies, making her way to the table.

Those hazel eyes were on her again, watching her hips sway to the music. Placing her hands on the table and leaning over, she shouted at them so they could hear.

“Does anyone mind taking me home?” Winnowing while drunk was a bad idea. She learned her lesson the hard way when she almost drowned in the Sidra. She didn’t want to end a few inches off from the balcony of the House of Wind and fall to her death. That would be embarrassing.

Feyra opened her mouth to speak but Azriel beat her to it, setting his cards down.

“I fold.” He told the table. “I’m ready to get out of here anyway.” He stood, his wings ruffling at the movement.

As the two made their way to the doors, Ophelia could have sworn she heard Cassian yelling that Az had a full house. There was no way he could have been on a cusp of winning for him to just walk out like that, Az was too competitive. She must have heard him wrong.

They walked out into the muggy summer night. It was scorching this time of year, the night time only a little more tolerable than the day. The light blue dress that Ophelia had on stuck to her in the most uncomfortable of places. It was a pretty dress, a little on the short side, but one that would now have to be thoroughly washed. It reeked of sweat and wine and unfamiliar males.

Azriel and Ophelia walked in silence for a bit, the sounds of distant parties and conversations being drowned out by the rushing water as they approached the bridge to the Sidra. She traced the amazingly carved detail with her fingers on the rails, before stopping and turning to look down at the water.

Azriel inhaled softly as if he were about to speak, but Ophelia cut him off.

“Did I tell you about the time I almost drowned in the Sidra?”

She glanced behind her to the Illyrian, whose stoic features wavered just slightly at her admission. Whatever he was about to say, she had stopped him. If she were being honest with herself, which was rare, she’d wish she had let him speak.

“Mor and I had a few too many glasses of Rhys aged wine,” She continued. “Didn’t think it would hit me that hard. When I tried to winnow home I landed face first into cold water. Sobered me up pretty quick.”

She turned around, gazing up into those damned hazel eyes. She expected to see some sort of amusement in his eyes, but all she found was worry.

“I could have taken you home that day.”

Ophelia shrugged. “Honestly, I think you were on a mission for Rhys. Plus, I wouldn’t want to bother you with my drunkenness.” She lifted her palms up to the sky, a smile twitching at her lips.

“I don’t mind your drunkenness.” That same smile creeping up on the corners of his own thick, lush lips.

Damnit.

Something had changed, shifted, between Ophelia and Azriel. For centuries, she had considered Azriel as a friend, a good friend. But almost three months ago, that had changed. She didn’t know what it was, or didn’t want to admit to herself what it was, but it happened. Az and her had been sparring early in the evening like usual. They were trying to perfect a new technique they thought of, when somehow Ophelia managed to knock Azriel on his ass.

He had stared up at her with such awe and bewilderment she thought he might have cracked his head open on the ground. When she helped him up his hands were clammy and hot, and he quickly excused himself from the session.

Ever since then, Azriel had been, well, nice. Not just the forced politeness she was used to when it came to the spymaster. He had been offering to help her, spending time with her scouting out the Autumn Court, which she knew he hated. It was strange, even Rhys admitted his brother's actions were strange.

Ophelia, snapping out of her thoughts, realized she had been staring far too long at Azriel. Clearing her throat, she looked away. She was glad it was hot out or else she felt like he might have called her out on the blush that was creeping across her cheeks.

“Do you mind?” She asked, lifting her arms out to him. “I’m ready for bed.”

Azriel nodded silently, and picked her up like she weighed less than a feather. She laid her head on his chest and squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the feeling of her stomach to drop once he took flight. Hearing the leathery snap of his wings, the ground whooshed out from underneath them. She sucked in a breath as his wings caught the warm breeze, spreading them out behind him.

Velaris was always beautiful, but Ophelia was convinced it looked the most beautiful from above. She watched as the streaming lights grew distant as they flew farther away from the city. It made her heart hurt to watch it go.

They flew silently towards the House of Wind, the only sound of Azriel’s wings occasionally flapping. She looked over his shoulder, the thin membrane of his wings looked so silky. Ophelia knew how prized an Illyrian's wings were to them. They would rather be dead than be without their wings.

Still, they looked so smooth and soft. Tentatively, she reached a hand out and lightly ran her hand across the cool skin. She heard Azriel gasp, and they dipped in the sky.

“Shit!” She squawked, nails digging into his neck. “Sorry! I didn’t think-”

“If you don’t want me to drop you, sweetheart, I wouldn’t do that again.” Azriel grunted. Something had changed in his voice, it sounded gruffer. She was so caught up in what just happened she almost missed it.

He had called her sweetheart.

Azriel landed on the balcony without any more close calls. Though Ophelia supposed she was to blame for that. He set her down gently and she smoothed out her dress, making sure everything was covered.

“I need a drink.” She announced, but mostly for the house to hear.

“You had about three bottles of wine, four shots of vodka, and a beer. You need more?” Azriel said from behind her, humor laced in his tone.

“Well, looks like someone was counting.” She smirked to herself. “But no, I need tea. Care to join?”

Sauntering into the kitchen, she saw the house instantly set out another hot mug and she picked it up, handing it to Azriel. “It’s my secret blend.” She smiled, picking up her own mug. Taking a small sip, she sighed contentedly.

She hopped up on the counter watching as Azriel did the same. “Jasmine, lavender, and chamomile.” He offered. “With a hint of lemon.”

Ophelia rolled her eyes, smirking. “I suppose being a spymaster you have to know the differences between tastes. Wouldn’t want someone to be poisoned, now would you?”

“No, it’s just what you smell like.”

Ophelia’s heart skipped a beat. She stared down at her mug in her now trembling hands. Desperately, she tried to think of a witty come-back. Something to diffuse to tension that was quickly building in the kitchen. She heard the clink of his mug being set down on the counter, and the shuffle of his boots as he approached her.

“Phia,” Azriel whispered. “Look at me.” Inhaling sharply, she did just that. She felt his hands grab hers and set the mug down, his eyes never leaving hers. His eyes were alight with swirling colors, his pupils almost covering his entire iris.

“Az…” Before she could get another word out, his lips were on hers.

Gasping at the electric shock that started at the base of her skull, making its way down her tailbone, she shuddered. Did she shudder because of that or because of Azriel, Azriel was finally kissing her? She wasn’t sure she wanted to know the answer right now.

He broke away from her after a long moment, resting his forehead on hers. He was panting, they were panting. This time when Azriel tried to speak, she was the one to cut him off. Her lips slotted over his, her slender arms wrapping around his neck pulling him closer.

They were a blur of gnashing teeth and tongues, their breathing turning almost frantic. Azriel’s rough hands gripped her hips, pulling her even closer to him. Instinct kicked in and Ophelia grabbed onto his waist with her legs. Nothing but a few scraps of clothing separated them now.

Wait.

Azriel bit down on her bottom lip, a quiet moan rippled from her mouth. He pulled away, but not going very far. He kissed her cheek, then her jaw, then that spot right behind her ear. Ophelia moaned again, louder this time, arching into his touch.

She said she didn’t want this.

Azriel’s chuckled, his breath tickled against her overheating skin. He continued kissing down the length of her throat, and her hands found their way to his thick hair, tugging softly. Ophelia felt triumphant when he let out a moan of his own. Then, she was leaning farther and farther back so he could have easy access to her, gasping and moaning when he bit down just to soothe the sting with his tongue. His mouth was setting ablaze a burning path down her chest that she thought the coolest of waters couldn’t put out.

She wasn’t allowed to want this.

His hand came up to cup her breast through the material of her dress, his thick thumb swiping lazily over the peaked nipple. She was squirming now, her soaked core rutting ever so slightly against the very large bulge in his leathers. She wanted more, needed more. Needed to feel him in every way possible, to feel exactly what the honed muscles could do.

She shouldn’t want this.

Azriel finally pulled away from the assault he was levying against her front and his eyes found hers. “Sweetheart, do you-”

“Well it’s about damn time!” A voice boomed from down the hall.

Ophelia had never seen Azriel move so fast. One moment she was sprawled out on the counter top, the next Azriel had her behind his back, guarding her from being seen by Cass and Nesta, who had just caught them in a very compromising situation. A snarl she had never heard from Azriel ripped from his throat.

“Oh come now, Az! How many times have you walked in on me and Ness? It’s only fair I get you back.”

But she didn’t wait for Azriel’s reply, because she was already sprinting to her room.

She couldn’t want this.

The original nine: Viva la Pluto

they missed each other

reminder that being suicidal is a SERIOUS problem. i know this website has normalized the idea that having suicidal thoughts isn’t something that requires medical attention, but i promise it is and if you’re frequently having suicidal thoughts then it’s crucial for you to seek help.

Drake // Halloween Bling (x)