#but the way they handled it was really good actually

[covenofagatha]

A dance with death (and her wife) (Part 1)

@lanfear-is-my-darkmistress

You are a profiler for the FBI when you get called to help catch a serial killer in Westview. (Killing Eve/Hannibal AU)

Word count: 4200

Warnings: descriptions of violence, fear

The phone rings at 7:30 in the morning on your day off and you want to throw it against the wall. 

You had been sleeping – having a very good dream, actually – when the harsh ringtone roughly jolts you out of your slumber. 

“Hello?” you answer groggily, rubbing your face with your hand. If it’s a spam call, you think you might lose your mind. 

“Is this Agent Y/L/N?” A gruff voice asks and you shoot up out of bed into the sitting position. 

You clear your throat and try to sound professional. “Um, yes, this is she. Who am I speaking with?”

“This is Director Hayward,” the man says, and your eyes widen. The head of the FBI is calling you. “Have you heard of the town of Westview?” 

Your forehead wrinkles while you rack your brain for anything that sounds familiar. “No, sir, I don’t think so.” 

There’s muffled sounds from the other side of the phone and then you can hear Director Hayward clearly. “It’s a small town in New Jersey. Nothing special, nothing too out of the ordinary.” He pauses like you’re supposed to recognize it, but after a moment of silence he sighs and continues. “About seven months ago, we believe a pair of serial killers moved into town. Bodies started piling up, seemingly no rhyme or reason to who was killed, only that the victims were all female.” 

“Okay,” you say slowly, trying to wrap your head around all this. If it’s been going on for this long, why haven’t you heard about it? “Are we sure they’re connected if there’s no pattern of victim? Usually men have a type when they do this kind of thing; the women usually look like an ex-lover who broke their heart, or their mom.” 

You can practically hear him roll his eyes through the phone. “They were all killed the same way: poison to sedate them and then their hearts were carved out. And there was a purple azalea left in every single one of the victims’ chest cavities. So we’re pretty sure they’re connected.” Sarcasm drips copiously from his tone and you wince. Way to make a good first impression on the director of the FBI. “And it’s not a man. It’s a woman.” 

This makes you perk up with interest. “Oh?” As a profiler for a branch of the FBI in Miami, you’ve handled your fair share of serial killers. It may make you sound insensitive, but you were only really interested in the female ones. Men were so boring and predictable. Women knew how to make it a challenge, and there was always some deep, underlying motive for why they did it. There was nothing you enjoyed more than piecing together that puzzle. 

“They’re calling her The Witch. The poison used on the victims is like nothing we’ve ever seen before, so we think she must be making it herself. But since female serial killers are kind of your thing–” 

You cut him off before you can think twice, thoughts whirling through your head. “How do you know it’s a woman? Cutting out a heart, that takes a lot of strength. Most female serial killers tend to use gentler methods, like poison, so it makes sense that there’s at least one woman involved. Are you sure she isn’t working with someone though? Lavinia Fisher would poison her victims and then her husband would finish the job.” 

“How quickly can you get to Westview?” He asks, completely ignoring your question. 

“Oh, you want me to go there?” 

He scoffs. “Yes, Agent, we want you to go there. I’ve already informed your boss and he’s given his approval. No one has been better at catching the female killers than you, so we really need you on this. You can take the Miami jet as soon as you’re ready, but they want you there as soon as possible.” 

“Will I be working with the Trenton branch?” 

“Just the Westview PD for now. They’ve assured us that they have their best detectives on the case. But if you need backup, let us know and we can send in some more profilers. Whatever it takes to bring this woman to justice.” He hangs up without another word and you grab your to-go suitcase that you keep packed for times like these. You throw in a few extra sets of clothes just in case it takes longer than expected, and then you’re out the door, driving to Headquarters. 

You walk into your boss’s office and knock on the door. The director of the Miami branch, Tony Stark, looks up at you. “Hope you packed some warm clothes,” he says and you chuckle. You definitely did not.

“Hayward said I could take the jet?”

Tony nods. “It’s out back and already fueled up. Good luck, kid. Be careful, okay?” 

You scoff. “Careful? I’m always careful.” He fixes you with a stern look and you acquiesce. “I promise.” 

“I don’t need to remind you what happened last time you worked on a case like this, do I?” 

It hits you like a punch to the gut and you shake your head. “No, sir, you do not.” But you know he’s going to tell you anyway. 

“That woman destroyed you,” he hisses. “You got so focused on finding her that you stopped eating and sleeping. The obsession completely consumed you.” 

“I caught her, didn’t I?” You mutter, knowing full well that isn’t his point. He slams his hands down on his desk and you jump. 

“She almost killed you,” he almost yells and your face twists at the memory. 

The Scarlet Killer terrorized Miami about three years ago before you finally brought her down. At first, she would sneak into houses of families with twins and slit the parents’ throats and kidnap the kids, but the twins would always resist so she would end up killing them too. 

After a while, she stopped caring about the twin aspect and started killing anyone with children. 

You had spent days in the office, pacing and pouring over the evidence board, trying to make sense of it. There was no DNA anywhere, but there was also no sign of forced entry, so you figured that she was invited into the house somehow. The hunt for children made you think she had lost her own, or had some sort of abusive childhood that made her want to protect kids. She was possibly a twin as well, and very amicable if people were having her over willingly. 

It took two months before you figured out the perimeter of her murders. She was making a hexagon shape with the houses of the victims. Hexagons can represent balance, so you figured she felt as if she was balancing out some score with the universe for something that had happened to her. 

And then one fateful night, you realized where her next target was. A family had just moved into a house perfectly on the border of the hex, as people around the office started calling it, and they had twins. 

You spent almost an entire week camped out in front of their house waiting for the Scarlet Killer to strike. You think during that time, you slept a total of ten hours. Hallucinations plagued you and you would doze off and then wake up babbling something about catching her. Agents would bring food by your car and beg you to take a break, but you kept your eyes strained on the house, determined that you wouldn’t let her get away with it again, determined to prove that you were right about where she’d be.

And you were. 

Except the knocking that should’ve been on the front door of the house, the knocking that would inevitably lead to more death, was on your car window. 

You had jolted awake to find a redheaded woman standing there, looking worried. You opened the door and got out to help her when she had pulled a knife out and stabbed you in the stomach. 

Thank god she didn’t go for her usual M.O. of slitting throats. 

You were able to weakly unholster your gun and take a shot at her as she was running away and by the yelp, you knew you had hit her. A consolation prize as your vision faded to black. 

Somehow, you woke up two days later in a hospital room, Director Tony Stark by your bedside. They had caught the killer a block away thanks to the appendix your bullet had ruptured that rendered her unconscious, a woman named Wanda Maximoff, who had lost her twins in a horrible house fire, and made it a mission to try and replace them.

And her knife had missed anything important, and all you had was a nasty scar and the weariness from everyone else whenever there was a new female serial killer to catch. 

“She didn’t kill me though,” you tell Tony, who rolls his eyes. “I’ll be careful. I won’t get too involved this time.”

He slides open a drawer and takes out a file and a business card that he holds out to you. You reach across the desk to grab the two and you scan the card. 

Rio Vidal, Therapist, Westview. With an email and phone number. 

You hold it up and raise an eyebrow. “You want me to see a shrink?” You already completed your mandated fifteen hours of therapy after the Maximoff incident and you weren’t eager to go back. 

“You don’t have to, it’s just so you have an option. In case you feel yourself becoming too ‘involved.’” 

You purse your lips but you slip it into your pocket and tighten your grip on the file. “Guess I’ll see you whenever we catch her.” 

He salutes you and you make your way to the jet out back. 

It’s a three hour flight and you spend your entire time pouring over the case file. You know there’s still some information that you’ll have to get from the Westview PD, like witness statements and exclusive photos that haven’t been released yet, but what you do have is brutal. 

Photos of shriveled up bodies with barely any skin still on their bones, their cheeks hollowed out, like something sucked the life out of them. Not to be sexist, but you can tell why Director Hayward thought it was a woman. 

Although there’s a gaping hole in their chests where a heart used to be, the cuts are neat, precise. And the blood has been completely cleaned up. What should be the bloodiest crime scene you’ve ever seen is void of any fluid, like the killer methodically mopped and bleached and cleansed the scene of everything. But this also means that the victims are dead before the heart is cut out, from the poison. 

The most chilling thing is the singular, perfect flower placed in the cavity of their chest.

You flip through the toxicology reports but can’t really make sense of anything. One report says one chemical was the cause of death, another report says another. The levels of chemicals in the bloodstream are also different from victim to victim. 

It reminds you of Jolly Jane Toppan, who would experiment with different medicines and chemicals to murder patients at hospitals. 

Is the killer a nurse? A chemist? You’re able to figure out why she’s called The Witch, because it’s like she’s brewing up potions of sorts, but you have no idea why she would bother cutting their hearts out if she’s killing them with poison. 

The precision of the blade also means that her hands are steady. Another reason she could be a nurse. 

You flip through the pictures of all the victims – eleven, so far – and the first victim’s cut is just as accurate as the last victim. This woman is either a natural, or this isn’t the first time she’s killed. 

Pulling out your computer, you search the database for any serial killer cases that match this same type of crime, male or female. You’re still not entirely convinced she’s working alone. 

But there’s nothing. No cold cases, no open cases. She has truly shown up out of nowhere. 

You tap your fingers to the tray table, your mind trying to make sense of the details for the rest of the flight. 

When the plane lands, you’re ushered into an uber and taken to the motel where you’ll be staying. Your rental car is already in the parking lot. Even though Westview is a small town, it means a lot that they’re giving you all these accommodations. 

Your room is complete with a kitchenette, a queen sized bed, and a good sized bathroom. You drop the files on the table, throw your suitcase in the bedroom, and grab your work bag before locking the door behind you. 

The rental car is a small sedan that has a strange smell, but it does the job and you drive through the quaint twisting roads to get to the police station. You park up front, take a deep breath, and walk in. 

No one stops you or asks what you’re doing here (no wonder this case hasn’t been solved yet) so you make your way to the back where you find the Chief’s office. 

He’s a skinny man with a mustache, spots of something that looks like mustard on his shirt, talking to a woman with her back to you. All you can tell is that she has long, dark hair that flows down your back.

“Hi, excuse me?” You say, knocking on the glass door. The Chief stops and the woman turns around to face you and you’re momentarily struck by how attractive she is. “I’m Agent Y/N? The, uh, criminal profiler from Miami? The FBI sent me to help with The Witch case.” 

“Oh, shoot, that’s right,” the man says, wiping his hands on his jacket before standing up. “Chief Phil Jones. This is Detective Agatha Harkness–” He motions to the woman standing there who smiles knowingly, raking her eyes up and down your body. “– our best. She’s been working this case day and night.” 

“Any leads so far?” You ask her. 

“Why don’t I show you what we have so far?” She offers and you nod, following her out of the office and trying not to look at her ass. She takes you into  a different room with a bulletin board filled with pictures and string and post-it notes. You squint at it, trying to take everything in, while you hear more people enter the room behind you. 

“So, Miami, what do you think?” A man taunts and a few others snicker at him. You ignore him, you’ve been used to this your entire career. 

You’re still scanning the board when something catches your eye. The witness statements. They don’t corroborate with each other. From the six people that have seen something, they all agree that the killer had dark hair. But some say it was long, others say just past her shoulders. Some think she was taller and lean, others say shorter and just a little more filled out. There’s a detail from two witnesses that gives you pause though: they say the woman had a mask of sorts on the bottom of her face, almost like a skeleton. The other witnesses make no mention of not being able to see the killer’s entire face. 

You tap the papers. “Why don’t the statements line up?” 

“Surely you know how unreliable eyewitness testimony is,” Agatha drawls, and when you turn around, she’s watching you carefully. 

You frown. “I do know, but it seems like there’s two different people here. So either we have a copycat, which would be unlikely due to there being no change in the level of detailedness from murder to murder, or–” You trail off, chewing on your lip. You’re waiting for someone, Agatha maybe, to finish the sentence, or to tell you you’re being crazy. 

“Or?” She prompts like she’s daring you to go on. There’s a look in her eyes, a look you don’t quite recognize. 

You give the men in the room a glance. Will they laugh? “I really think we’re dealing with two killers here. Working together. One poisons the victims, the other cuts out the heart. I thought it was a man and a woman, but it seems like two women. They’re obviously very close to each other, and they’ve got it down to an easy routine.” 

“Why hasn’t anyone seen two women then?” Agatha asks, but you feel like she’s just guiding you to a realization, rather than criticizing your theory. 

You hum, tossing the question around in your head. “Maybe…maybe because they want us to think there’s only one killer? They’ve fooled everyone, even the FBI. Easy to chalk it up to faulty witness statements.” 

“Why wouldn’t they try to look alike then?” Agatha presses, and your brow furrows. It’s a good point. 

The pictures of the mutilated victims on the board stare back at you while you look for anything you could’ve missed. “Are they toying with us? Do they want us confused? The poison, the cut-out heart, the flower left behind, the different descriptions, it’s like this is a game to them. They’re cocky, they feel confident that they can’t get caught. Maybe both of them are narcissists, but definitely are on the Antisocial Personality Disorder spectrum.” 

“Why do you think they do it?” Agatha says in a hushed voice. You can’t help but notice that she seems excited. 

Is that because she finally might be getting a break in her case? 

“I don’t know,” you admit and she looks disappointed. You spin to face the board again. “There’s no obvious connection or pattern between the victims, so it doesn’t seem like there’s a personal vendetta against them. Nothing stands out about the locations either. It seems like they’re just killing for fun, right now.” 

“That’s pretty dangerous,” she says, and you can feel the front of her body brush against your back. You’ve been so entranced that you didn’t even hear her notice her coming over. “That means anyone could be next.” 

Goosebumps spread over your body at her hot breath on your neck, but her words sober you up. She’s right. You’re not able to rule out potential victims based on how many kids they have or don’t have, like with Wanda, or what they look like or don’t look like. 

“Okay,” you say, nodding your head. “We need to send out a BOLO for two women with dark hair now. Put these descriptions out, tell them to keep an eye out for a skeleton mask? Hopefully we can get some tips and put a stop to this before anyone else gets hurt.” 

“What should we call the other woman?” One of the male officers speaks up and you’re surprised that it’s an actual question. 

Agatha watches you with interest while you think about it. “How about…Lady Death?” You offer and she gives a nod of approval. “Put a BOLO out for Lady Death and The Witch.” 

You make copies of everything that’s on the board and paper clip them together to put in your bag. As you’re packing everything up to go back and leave to the motel (Tony would be proud of you for leaving the station at an acceptable time), Agatha comes over and leans on the table. 

“What do you think their relationship is? Lady Death and The Witch,” she says, amusement lacing her tone when she says their nicknames. 

You shrug. “Sisters, friends, wives? Maybe they’re just two crazy people who met each other and want to kill people.” She chuckles and studies you curiously. 

“You know, we’ve had some other profilers come in, but none of them have been like you. You know your stuff.” 

“Female serial killers are kind of my thing,” you say. “There’s just something about untangling the mystery that’s so much sweeter. Makes me feel…alive. Which I know sounds bad, because so many people have died, and I’m sorry.” 

Agatha looks like she knows exactly what you’re talking about. “No, don’t apologize. It’s exciting, isn’t it? The exhilaration, the moment when you finally get what you want, what you’ve been working toward.” Her voice is low and you nod, leaning in before you can realize what you’re doing. Your gaze drops down to her smirk and then back to her blown-out pupils. “Do you think you’ll be able to find them?” 

“Yeah, I do,” you breathe, and she looks positively delighted. Out of nowhere, the scar on your stomach stings and you grimace. Agatha looks at you, concerned but you brush it off. “I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then?” You ask, standing up and slinging your bag onto your shoulder. 

“See you then, superstar,” she says with a grin and watches you leave. 

When you get back to the motel, you spread all the pictures and notes out, trying to connect some dots. You scribble down Friends? Sisters? Lovers? on a sticky note and press it to the wall. 

Why do you think they do it? Agatha’s question still haunts you. You don’t want to believe that it’s just for fun, there has to be some meaning, some motive for poisoning and then physically removing hearts. There has to be some significance to the flower left behind. 

But what is it? 

Your stomach grumbles so you decide to take a step back and go pick up food from a restaurant in town. As you’re pulling out of the parking lot to come back to the motel with wings and french fries, you get a call from Tony Stark. You accept it, taking a sip from your cup quickly. 

“Hey, Director,” you say. 

“There she is! How’s it going?” 

You shrug even though he can’t see you. “Not too bad. Just went and got dinner. See, I’m taking care of myself.” 

He laughs like it’s the funniest joke he’s heard. “Glad to hear it. Any new leads in the case?” 

“There’s two women, not one. They’re working together.” There’s silence on his end of the line for a second and you wonder if he heard you. “Did you–?

“Yeah, I got that. Shit, so you think you’re looking for partners? I don’t like this,” he says. 

“I’m okay, I promise. What happened with Wanda won’t happen this time,” you reassure him as you turn back into the motel lot. “I’ll check in with you whenever you want. I’ll go see that shrink. I’ll be careful.” You’re worried that he’ll pull you off the case if he thinks you’re too obsessed. Your hyperfixation tendencies almost cost you your life, and you know Tony doesn’t want that to happen to you again. He’s become somewhat of a father figure to you since you started working there, and it’s touching how much he cares.

He hums in satisfaction. “I expect you to eat three meals a day and get at least five hours of sleep.” Before you can protest, he continues. “And I want you to make an appointment with that therapist. Just get ahead of your spiral, maybe talking about the case with someone removed will help you be more level-headed.” 

“I will,” you vow. “Okay, just got back to the motel, I’ll talk to you later.” He says goodbye and hangs up. When you get out of the car with your food, the hair on the back of your neck stands up and your scar tingles. 

Something feels off. 

You get to your door to find it slightly ajar and you frown. You remember locking it. Maybe room service cleans at night? 

“Hello?” You call, pushing it open. Taking a few cautious steps into the room, you scan from wall to wall looking for anything or anyone.

There’s no one there, nothing seems out of place except for your suitcase that is now on your bed. You tentatively walk over to it and unzip it, jumping back like you’re expecting something to pop out. Inside, you find all the clothes you packed gone, and entirely replaced by a new wardrobe. Pulling them out, you gasp when you find cashmere sweaters and silky blouses and comfortable but professional looking pants. There’s a bottle of perfume with the word “Thanatos” printed in perfect calligraphy and you take a whiff. It smells like flowers and wood at the same time and it makes you think of a forest. 

So someone broke into your motel room just to give you some new clothes and perfume? You rustle through the rest of the suitcase and a piece of paper flutters to the floor. 

Heart pounding, you lean down to pick it up. It’s the same sticky note that you put on your wall before you left to get food. 

Friends? Sisters? Lovers? 

Only now, the word ‘lovers’ is circled, with a small heart drawn. You drop the paper like you’ve been burned and run over to where all your case information is and you feel nauseous. 

Nothing has been touched. Nothing is out of place. 

Except for the single purple azalea resting on the middle of the table. 

They were here. 

[pricegouge]

ugh i was at a hotel last night and something happened and all i could think of was ‘i HAVE to tell gouge!’

essentially i was in the hottub sipping a little cocktail by myself until i was joined by two older men. they kept their distance and kept to themselves (i assume to avoid scaring little afab me on my own) but ALL i could think of was Nik and Price finding cute little reader alone in a hotel hottub and doing the absolute opposite.

like each of them taking a place on either side and continuing their conversation as if reader isn’t there but squishing the poor lamb between them.

eventually they get handsy, maybe feed the sweetheart a few more drinks than they can handle. and of course they can’t leave the sweet little thing drunk and all on their own! the only responsible thing to do would to be take the little lamb back to their room with them😵‍💫

anyway i might be insane.

~💉

got yourself in hot soup :/

honestly, you should have known better, taking your third drink for a walk. you would have been fine - really- it's just, well, who are you to say no when a handsome man with a devastatingly hot accent offers you another?

he says his name's nik. he hadn't had his leg against yours at the time, borderline indecently cut shorts letting the fine threads of his copious leg hair grate against your thigh. you'd flinch away, but the man on your other side is almost worse. nik calls him john, but he introduces himself as price. where nik's soft, price is made of steel wool. denser. a little bit meaner, too.

not that either of them are rude, exactly. they're plenty charitable. in a sense; share their drinks with you when you run out. fix the straps of your top when they slump. it's just that you hadn't planned to drink with two strange men tonight, and they're a little bit too insistent, price's gruff bark just a bit too teasing whenever you try to pull yourself to your feet.

'nough already?

yeah, kinda.

you've had enough of their hands, at least, but weren't sure how to stop that, either - not now that you've let it go on so long, each touch more innocent than the one that followed until you're not even sure where it began. maybe when nik had first handed you that drink, blunt fingers lingering. maybe later, when he'd laid his arm across the back of the tub. ostensibly, it was an excuse to dig strong fingers into the tense belt of muscle that blanketed his mate's shoulder, but the crook of his elbow sat just a bit too snug against your neck to be an accident.

or maybe you were looking too far into it. there was no way two grown men who'd clearly come together were hitting on you, after all. not when their big hands kept churning the water, reaching across you to pet at one another. even if it kept you incidentally locked in their strong arms.

'just keepin' ya upright,' john winks, and you've half a mind to tell him off for thinking you need it, but next thing you know your tops come untied and you're clutching your chest, embarrassment boiling worse than the tub. sloppy. maybe you do need their help.

they're nice enough not to laugh, at least. nik tuts as he gathers your ties, big hands surprisingly gentle, matching his voice when he leans in close and asks if you think you're ready for bed yet. you don't trust yourself to speak so you just nod, hide your face in price's shoulder as he helps you to your feet with a warm hand spread across your back. you're so busy why your skin already feels familiar with his touch there that you barely notice as they corral you into an elevator, nik confidently selecting the top floor without asking for you input.

you're not sure why you apologize but you do, meek when you tell them you're actually staying on the fourth floor. nik says that's nice. john says it sounds like a good place to grab breakfast. neither of them select it.

"where are we going?" you try again, stomach falling out beneath you as the lift rockets up without it.

"our room, of course," john scoffs as if it should all be very obvious. his fingers toy with the strings of your top again. again?

nik's tone is final when he speaks again, a low rumble you can barely hear over the whirl of machinery. "said you were ready for bed, milaya," he reminds you, just as john gives one last tug to your strings.

nik is not as nice about helping you retie it this time. good thing they've got the whole top floor.

[oceandelreysworld]

Loving injuries

Vi x injured reader - pt 1.

(Fluff, tension, blood-kinda-, making out)

This is my first story, so uhh, lmk what I need to improve on or if it's good or not!

Made this a little different from the show like:

After Vi "died." Everyone went their separate ways, some better than others.

Ekko met Vi after she got out of jail, letting her stay with at the firelights hide out.

Ekko was like an older brother when you guys were little, but you haven't seen him in forever(he still has that brotherly act of protection and is still defensive over you)

-------------------------------------------------------

You and Vi were child hood friends and you had the biggest crush on her but then she "died". She was romeing the streets then she finds you against a building, sleeping....but she doesn't notice your hurt..

-------------------------------------------------------

"Y/n?" Vi shakes your shoulder to wake you. She moves you hood out of your face. "Oh my god, y/n!" You wake up and realize someone's talking to you and touching you.

"Get away, I'll hurt you." You say as you whisper, slowly grabing her wrist, using up all your energy. "Y/n it's me, Vi." You look up at her, letting go of her wrist, but you can't see her. Your visions all blurry.

"No, stop, get away from me!" You tilt your head up to try and look at her better. "Y/n..I'm right here."

She squats to your level. She's strokes her thumb on your cheek. You wince at first, but then you look up to see the comfort of her light powder blue eyes and the pink shade of her hair.

You relax, your head into her palm, and start tearing up. Trying to use your arms to sit up but end up slowly leaning back down to the ground.

"I thought you died. What happened to you?...We needed you. I- I needed you." You muttered the last part in hope that she didn't hear you.

"I know... I'm so sorry. I got arrested... I'm sorry I left the way I did."

She gets down on her knees to hug you tightly when you whimper in pain. "Ow shit shit shit!" You shift your hand to hold tighter on the side of your stomach.

"What is it? What's wrong?"

You steadily move your hand and show her. There's a large blotch of blood seeping through your shirt.

"Y/n what the hell happened?! Who did this to you..?" She shifts her hand twords the injured area. "It's fine.. I'm fine. I've been like this for a few days."

She lifts your shirt up to see the wooned. You rapped that part of your stomach in bandages, but there's still a hole lot of blood on them. Vi slowly unrapped it while looking up at your eyes ever once a while.

She takes it all off, and she sees the huge wooned. It looked infected. Yellow coloring around the area and was still parshly still open and somewhat still bleeding. She could see where you tried stitching it up.

"Y/n, this looks really bad. How long have actually been like this?"

"I-...I've been here for a week. You sigh, knowing if you lied to her, that would make her even more worked up than she already is.

"I got stabbed almost two weeks ago.." You pause to take a breath. "I dont know who did it. All I know is I was trying to... okay, well, I was trying to steal some food... L-listen, I know it's bad, but I don't have any money, and I can't get up without the risk of it opening back up again.." she looks at you with her wide, worried eyes.

"Look, I know a place where you can rest, and I'm not giving you a choice. You're coming with me. Okay? And we'll figure out how to get you up." You admit defeat and relax your muscles against the wall again.

"..okay."

She raps you back up but puts the bandage on tighter so it doesn't rip.

"Okay, ready?" She holds your face, putting her forehead against yours. Getting back into a squatting position.

"No, but that's fine." She chuckles "Okay I'll pick you up slow. Don't worry about putting your weight on me. I can handle it, I've got you."

"Okay... thank you." You mumbled.

You rap your arms around her neck. She picks you up as slowly as possible. As she stands you up, you whine in pain, tucking your head into her neck. She tapes your thigh, letting you know she wants your legs up around her. She's holding you up by your thighs. You close your eyes, resting your head on her shoulder, loosening the rest of your body against hers.

"You okay, princess?"

You froze up. You haven't heard anybody call you that in a really...really long time. She would call you that when you guys were kids, it would annoy you back then, but now? It sounds so comforting coming from her, but in truth, you start to get flustered.

Your whole body heats up, and you hide your face back into her her neck so she doesn't see you blushing.

"I- um. Yeah. Yes. I mean, I'm okay."

She noticed your body tence up and the warmth of hers against yours.

"Okay..." She lifts her eyebrow side eyeing you with a smeark on her face. She didn't think you would react like this. She laughs lightly under her breath.

________________________

You fell asleep while she walked the both of you through the sewers. She meets what seems like a dead end. She knocks a certain rhythm, allowing the door to slowly open.

As you slowly wake up, you're greeted by lots of lights. "Ahh." You shelled your eyes with your arm, trying to get used to the bright lights. "Well, good morning, sunshine." she laughs lightly.

"Hey...Vi?" Ekko says as he jogs up to Vi noticing you in her arms, not knowing it's you. Your breath chokes up hearing such a familiar yet unfamiliar voice.

"So uhh...you gunna introduce me?"

You turn your head slowly. Your eyes meet his, starting to tear up. Getting out of Vi's arms as quickly as you can, still having a hard time walking. You tried to walk to him, you lean for him almost falling if him and Vi didn't catch you. Your arms go around him as he goes around your neck.

You start sobbing immediately when he hugs back.

"I...I haven't seen- seen you in f-forever." It's hard for you to get a full sentence out, trying to catch your breath from crying as well from the pain on your side.

"H-how are you-...are you..are you real..?"

Hugging you tighter and placing his head on top of yours. Ekkos voice trying not to crack, but how could he not? You were like his little sister.

As you stay like that for a moment, he pulls away. Vi pulling you back so you can rest your weight on her chest. You stumbled a bit, but she held you with support.

His eyes widen, looking down at your stomach. "God! Your bleeding!" You lightly laugh it off, but you couldn't hold back your coughing. Sweat dripping from the side of your forehead. You grip your side tightly.

"Ekko, she needs to lay down. Now."

"I got it. Hey, we need backboard now!" Ekko yells waving his hand in a hurry.

"Guys, really, I'm fi..." Your sentence fades as you faint, leaning back on Vi, now all your weight is forced onto Vi front body.

"Shit shit now!" Vi yells, grabing under both your arms. Ekko quickly goes to you, grabing the back of your neck so you don't hurt it.

Vi, Ekko, and some of the firelights lift you onto the backboard. They lift you up, walking to the room where Vi has been staying.

Setting you down to put you on the bed slowly. Ekko asked the rest of them to leave. Vi was sitting beside the bed, keeping a close eye on your movements, while Ekko was leaning against the wall.

"Why didn't you tell me you knew where she was.." Ekko says with his head down, zoning out on the floor. "Ekko, I just found her not even two hours ago.. If I knew she was hurt.. hell, if I knew she was still alive, you think I wouldn't tell you?" Vi starts to raise her voice in defense twords him. Ekko was about to speak when they both noticed you turning your head.

"Hmm...? Oww shit." You bring your hands up to cover your face in pain, then to your side.

"Hey princess... how you feeling?" She brushes her hand along the side of your cheek. Your eyes look up at hers with such a soft glimpse.

"I'm- ow- I feel sick.." You cough a little more aggressively than early. To aggressive for Vi's comfort. She rests her hand on your head, feeling for your temp. "Cupcake, you're really hot. Drink some water." She says as she helps your head up, putting her hand on the back of your neck, and brings the cup to your mouth.

"I'm gunna go see if we have any more blankets and possibly some pillows, okay? I shouldn't be out too long." He looks past Vi, making it seem like he was only talking to you. You could feel the thickness of the tension in the room between the two.

"Okay, thank you." He walks up to you, smiling, giving you a peck on your head before walking out of the room, closing the door.

The blinds are shut, as well as the windows. It helps, but it scares you a bit to be in such an unfamiliar area. Vi can tell from your expressions that you feel uncomfortable.

"Baby, what is it? Is something the matter?" As you turn your head twords her, looking up at her, surprised at the pet name she called you. Vi gently cups your face, strokes of her thumb slowly makes your garde go down.

"Im...fine. I just don't feel good, and I'm a little... uncomfortable being here.."

"Yeah? Why is that?"

You stay silent for a moment, not knowing how to express your emotions.

"Is there anything I can do to help cupcake?" She looks at you with care in her eyes.

There she goes again. Those names... god, they sound so sweet coming from her. You can't believe you ever thought this was annoying.

You hold eye contact for a few minutes, maybe? It feels like it could be forever from how locked your eyes were set on each other.

"I.." You turn your head away, looking over, breaking eye contact. It was getting to be too much for you.

She gently turns you by your chin to look back at her. She looked at you with such soft eyes while her eyebrows frowned lightly.

"I'm okay Vi. I'll be alright, okay?"

"Okay.."

She leans twords you, resting her head against yours. As she picks her head up, she looks down at your bandages, ghosting her hand against it.

"Do you want me to restich this?"

"If you can, please...I don't want you to go out of your way, though."

"It'll never be out of my way if it's for you. Understand? When you need me, I'm there. When you call me, I'm there. Okay?" She spoke so softly yet firmly to get the point through you.

Her lips brush a slow kiss on your head.

Once she takes off the bandages fully, she takes out the old stitchs slowly, trying not to hurt you. Somewhat successful. She pulls out the alcohol. Your whole body tenses up, moving yourself over to the other side of the bed, scared of how bad it's gunna hurt.

Vi sets the bottle down and reaches for your hand, slowly trying not to scare you away. You let her hold your hand as her thumb strokes the back of your hand.

"Princess, it's badly infected, I need to clean it before it gets worse, I'll hold your hand all the way through. Please just...let me help."

You stay in the same spot in silence, hesitating to rest back on the bed, even though it hurts like hell.

"I have a feeling you're feeling this sick because it's infected." She brings your hand up to her lips, brushing kisses on the back of your hand, in hopes to comfort you. Each kiss makes you relax your body against the bed.

"Okay... just don't put it directly on it. Please."

"I wouldn't, I'll use uh... this."

She said as she looked around for cotton swabs. Finding some holding it up so you know what it is.

"Okay, just be gentle..?" You look at her with puppy eyes, not realizing what you were doing.

"Of course, princess, always." All Vi could think about is pulling your face close to hers to kiss you...

-------------------------------------------------------

Part two soon! Ik this is really long for my first one but I really like this plot ig😅

[embbarnes]

I was sooo excited to see this finished, I couldn't wait to read it. Okay, okay...here we go~

The beginning of it is so pure and sweet, I love how you include so many characters and build the dynamics and world up for the story to begin. You always do such a good job with that, and I love seeing all the details.

I also like how you took this with Logan's view, how you described others and the reactions between them were so perfect for his character. Wade and Al were hilarious, the chatter they had in the beginning was entertaining and 100% something I can see happening.

Anyway continuing below cut because I love reviewing your stuff in more detail ~

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time. You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

The tension that builds is so well done. This one really got me into the story, I've never read one with this idea so I thought it was really interesting and fun to read. Sometimes tension is hard to build up, and with the background and characters in the beginning of the story to now and a bit later on, when the 'peak' comes, it feels so well deserves and satisfying. I'm jealous of how you do that 😭

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits – He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now. Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain. When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

UGH. This part was insane. The build Logan begins to feel is so natural here, and as it goes on you can really sense how needy and hard it is for him to handle it. Someone like him being pent up is such a fun concept.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

These little tidbits of details feel so authentic and real, I adore each and every one. Just like the exposed midriff, the tiny details that add to what we already know, urging Logan's desires on and on.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator. It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

I'm always a sucker for ferals to use their senses and how writers include it in fics. Logan's sense of smell is insane so he would of course smell the reader's arousal. I love love that and how you described it was amazing.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid. “But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

Yess, FINALLY. Be bold.

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

Love this little detail a lot too <3

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach. “This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

This entire bit was super hot too, the idea of this happening was sooo good. His demeanor and actions, the light teasing and slapping was just perfection. It was perfectly balanced, and I re-read this bit a few times.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—” “No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?” He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole. “Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

This gets overlooked a lot but I personally really, really like this part. Enough self control to ask reader if they want to stop, if everything is fine, just giving that option to stop if they wanted to. That is such a good detail and shows the depth of care. It's really refreshing each time I see something like this added in a smut fic.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath. You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss. “I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

LMAO girl-😂😭

i got it bad

logan howlett x reader (worst!logan x reader)

word count: 4.9k

summary/prompt: logan can't help that he has super hearing and overhears you - wade's seemingly sweet, shy neighbor - telling vanessa what you fantasize about doing to him. believing that you won't ever act on it, he takes matters into his own hands.

or - getting yourself off on logan's abs

warnings/tags: smut, 18+ only mdni, reader is afab, no use of y/n, logan's pov, porn with a little plot, male masturbation, teasing, nipple/breast play, some tit slaps, multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, cream pie

Ever since Logan first met you, he hasn’t been able to get you out of his fucking head.

Which is really unfortunate for him, considering you seem indifferent to his existence.

Wade says that you're just an introvert, and that it takes you a while to get comfortable around new people, but after living across the hallway from you for the last few months, Logan is sure that you have no interest in him outside of simple, polite conversation whenever the two of you run into each other.

He first notices you from across the room when you enter Wade and Althea's apartment – his apartment now, too, he supposes. The small space is crowded, but you're impossible for him to overlook. He instantly recognizes you from the polaroid picture that Wade had showed him in the Void.

You’re greeted by Vanessa, who kisses you on the cheek and shoves a drink in your hand before dragging you over to where Logan is listening to Wade and Althea bicker about – what were they bickering about again? All he can focus on is the way your dress hugs your curves and the lipstick imprint that you’ve left on the champagne flute in your hand.

He needs to get out more. Go to a bar, get a job, maybe even try out one of those dating apps that Vanessa has suggested to him – something to get him out of this fucking apartment that he's stayed holed up in since arriving in this universe, because he should not be this flustered by a complete stranger.

“Earth to Peanut,” Wade snaps his fingers in front of Logan’s face. He barely processed anything Vanessa had said while she introduced you. Blah blah, neighbor, something something, lives down the hallway. “Jesus, did you get into the white powder under the floorboard? Your pupils are as big as saucers right now.”

“Oh, go easy on him, Wade,” Althea scolds. “It’s natural for pupils to dilate when looking at a pretty girl.”

The expression on your face matches how Logan feels – surprised, embarrassed, slightly mortified.

“You don't even know what she looks like. She could look like me for all you know,” Wade snorts.

“She brings me homemade cookies and she always smells good,” Al retorts. “I don't need to be able to see her to know that she's pretty.”

“Nice to meet you,” Logan finally speaks up with a forced smile. Leave it to his two roommates to make a simple introduction as awkward as possible. “And no, I am not high on cocaine,” he adds with a pointed glare at Wade.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Logan,” you return the sentiment with a chortle and shy smile. “And don’t worry, I never pay attention to anything Wade says.”

Yukio and her girlfriend with the long ass name that Logan has yet to memorize then walk up and gain your attention, leaving Logan wishing he could redo the entire interaction.

He spends the rest of the night hoping for an opportunity to talk to you again, and feeling disappointed when that doesn’t happen.

The next couple of months go similarly. He runs into you frequently – in the elevator, and the communal laundry room of the apartment complex, and when you’re both checking your mail at the same time.

You always greet him with a smile and ask the typical casual conversation questions – how he's liking his new job (he’s not, but he tells you it’s going fine), if Wade is staying out of trouble (no), and how Laura is doing (she’s doing great, actually), but it never progresses much past that.

As soon as the conversation starts to venture into more personal territory, you seem to shut down. You’ll make some excuse about having somewhere to be, wish him a good day, and then you’re gone.

He can’t help himself. He sees how carefree and talkative you can be with Vanessa and hell, even Wade – and he wants that. At least then he may feel a little less crazy for spending so much of his free time racking his brain for ways to get closer to you.

Maybe it’s because it has been so long since he’s had a crush on anyone, but sometimes he thinks he might be losing his mind with how often he thinks of you – your smile, your eyes, your scent, your voice, and the way that having a five minute conversation with you always leaves him feeling for the rest of the day.

That’s why when he’s walking to his apartment one evening, and hears his name come from inside your apartment, he stops dead in his fucking tracks.

God, he knows he shouldn’t listen. He knows he should keep walking, go into his apartment and close the door.

But it’s not like he has his ear pressed up against your door. It’s not his fault that he has super hearing and that the apartment building has paper thin walls.

His brain is yelling at his feet to move but they stay planted firm right where they are.

“He thinks you don’t like him, you know,” Vanessa says. Logan doesn’t need to be able to see to know that there’s a smirk on her face.

He’s tempted to cause some kind of commotion in the hallway and then dash into his apartment, just to stop Vanessa from saying whatever the hell she’s about to say.

“Logan?” You sound appalled. “Of course I like him.”

“I know that you like him,” Vanessa chuckles. “But I can see why he would think otherwise. You act like you can barely stand to be in the same room as the guy for five minutes.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice shoots up several octaves higher than normal.

Logan sends a silent prayer to whoever the fuck is listening that no one walks down this hallway in the next few minutes and sees him standing still as a statue next to your apartment door.

“It’s not that I simply can’t stand to be in the same room as him,” you continue, lowering your voice back down to its normal volume. “It’s that being in the same room as him makes me want to jump his adamantium bones.”

For a second, he really believes that his two hundred year old heart might stop beating.

“I’m fucking pathetic around him,” you huff. “Last week, I saw him pull his t-shirt off in the laundry room to put a clean one on, and ever since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about grinding my pussy against his abs. Something is seriously wrong with me, Nes.”

But Logan doesn’t hear Vanessa’s response, because he speed walks away while she’s still cackling. By some miracle, Wade isn’t home, so Logan darts past Althea and locks himself in the bathroom.

What the fuck, Jesus Christ, and holy shit all play on a loop in his mind while he tries to ignore the bulge that has quickly formed in his jeans.

The last words he expected to hear anyone say today were jump his adamantium bones and grinding my pussy against his abs – but the fact that he heard those words come from your mouth in your sweet voice has his cock throbbing so hard that he can't think of anything other than you doing exactly what you’ve been fantasizing about.

Images of you straddling him with your bare, wet cunt rubbing against his happy trail, getting yourself off on his body as he plays with your pretty tits –

He let’s out an audible growl and rips the shower curtain open before turning on the water – straight to his normal hot temperature, too. He knows a cold shower isn't going to do him any good right now.

Standing beneath the hot stream, he thinks of what has transpired in the last five minutes and strokes himself in his hand until warm, white liquid follows the water down the drain.

When he finishes, he stills hears your voice in his mind and gets hard again within minutes.

••••••

Logan hasn’t seen you in three days. Three days might not seem like a long time to go without seeing your neighbor, but it feels like a long fucking time for him. In fact, it’s the longest he’s gone without casually running into you since he first met you months ago.

There’s a reason for this, though – he hasn’t checked his mail in days, hasn’t taken any of his laundry down to the basement in days, and has generally tried to avoid leaving his apartment as much as he can out of fear that he’ll see you. He even went as far as to pretend to be napping when you came by with some fresh baked brownies for Althea yesterday.

He wants to see you, of course. Goddamn, does he want to see you. But after overhearing your conversation with Vanessa earlier this week, he doesn’t know if he’s strong enough to look you in the eye and pretend like he hasn't been making himself cum to the thought of you on top of him every time he takes a shower.

But after three days, he finds himself missing you too much to keep up his attempt at distancing himself from you.

What if he’s being ridiculous, staying cooped in this apartment to avoid you? What if you’re just down the hallway, thinking about him at the same time he’s thinking of you?

He's tidying up the kitchen when he sees the pink Tupperware container that you’d brought the brownies in yesterday sitting in the sink. The brownies were long gone – they’d all been eaten by him, Wade and Al within the same hour that you brought them over.

Taking the Tupperware back to you would be the nice, neighborly thing to do, right?

With Al already retired to her bedroom for the evening, and Wade out with Vanessa, he takes it upon himself to wash and dry the container.

It’s a Friday night, so he knows there’s a chance that you’ve got plans and might not even be home, but he still takes a few minutes to fix his hair and swipe some deodorant on before walking down the hallway towards your apartment.

As he approaches your door, he realizes that you are home. There’s light spilling from the crack at the bottom of the doorframe and he can hear low music playing inside. A mix of anxiety and anticipation sets in, but he clears his throat and knocks on your door before he can chicken out.

He hears your footsteps approaching and attempts to wipe any sign of nervousness from his face – he’s just returning your Tupperware, for Christ's sake.

“Logan,” you breathe as you open the door. “I haven’t seen you in a few days,” you greet him. He can’t help but relax at the smile that grows on your face when you realize it’s him. “What are you up to this evening?”

You lean against your doorframe, and Logan has to force himself to maintain eye contact. You’re wearing a matching pajama set – a cute pair of velvet shorts and tank top that shows more of your skin than he’s ever seen before.

“I – uh,” he stammers, holding out the Tupperware container to you. “I just thought I’d bring this back to you. They were great, by the way.”

Your smile spreads to your eyes at his compliment.

“Oh, thanks,” you beam. “I’m glad you got to have one. Wade told me that you were asleep when I came by yesterday so I figured he’d have them eaten by the time you woke up.”

“I’m sure he would have, but Al made him save one for me,” he laughs.

He tries to focus on the conversation at hand, but the fact that you look fresh out of the shower definitely isn’t fucking helping. Bare faced with the scent of your body wash and lotion on your skin, his thoughts begin to stray into dangerous territory fast.

“I don’t wanna interrupt your night, though. I’ll let you get back to—”

“You’re not,” you say quickly as he begins to step backwards. “You're not interrupting. Are you doing anything tonight? I just ordered a pizza and there’s plenty. I was gonna watch a movie, if you want…” You trail off, glancing back and forth between him and your apartment behind you.

He can't help but notice that your voice sounds hopeful.

The invitation excites him more than he cares to admit. Sure, the two of you have hung out plenty of times, but it's always been in a group setting – at one of Wade’s get togethers or movie nights, surrounded by other friends.

But never just the two of you – definitely never in your apartment.

He could never think of saying no to you. Especially not when this is what he's been hoping for since he first me you.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'd really like that.”

You hold the door open for him, letting him enter your apartment. Right away, he notices how different it is from the one that he lives in. Then again, there’s three people cramped into Althea’s – you're the only person who lives here, so you're able to make it entirely your own.

It’s cute, and cozy, he thinks. From your furniture adorned with throw pillows and blankets, to all of your shelves stocked with books, knick-knacks and candles, to the various plants occupying space throughout the living room, it feels endearing and welcoming right away.

“So, where’s Wade at tonight?” you ask as he ventures into the living room. He notes a large cardboard box with an untouched pizza in it on your coffee table. His stomach growls at the sight, and it hits him that he actually is fucking starving.

“He’s out with Vanessa. Fourth time this week,” he answers, turning to find you retrieving two plates from a cabinet in your kitchen. You're angled away from him, and when you raise your arms to grab the plates, your tank top lifts enough to give him a clear view of your midriff. He quickly averts his gaze, pretending to find something on your bookshelf particularly interesting.

“I’m just really glad that they’ve worked through things and seem to be happy now,” you sigh. “He wasn’t in a good place after their breakup. Barely ever left his apartment for the longest time.”

“They’ve got something special, that’s for sure,” Logan agrees.

You hand him a plate, walking past him to your couch. You toss some of the decorative throw pillows to your recliner, making room for him on the sofa. You pat the empty space beside you, an invitation for him to make himself at home.

“Who knows, maybe they'll even get their own place soon and I won’t have to share the living room with him anymore,” he says as he sits down beside you.

It’s a pretty small couch – really more like a loveseat – so it’s a snug fit for the two of you. The skin of your exposed kneecap brushes against the fabric of his jeans as you lean forward to grab yourself a slice of pizza.

“Sounds like you just want Blind Al and Mary Puppins all to yourself,” you tease. You hand him a piece of pizza and close the box before propping your feet up on the table. You lean back, looking at him with a smirk and raised brows.

“If he moves, that dog is going with him and you know it. There’s no way he’d leave her behind,” he shakes his head.

“There’s no way Althea would let him take her. She's grown to be as attached to her as Wade is. I think even you like her more than you care to admit.”

“What can I say? She has a way of weaseling herself into your heart,” Logan sighs.

“Oh, it’s definitely the tongue,” you shrug through a bite of pizza.

Logan grimaces as a vivid image of Mary Puppins French kissing Wade awake flashes through his mind, but he can't help but laugh.

You turn on some action-comedy that Logan has never heard of, and the two of you eat and take turns making comments about whatever is happening on the screen for the first half of the movie.

He tries to stay focused on the film, he really does, but every now and then you readjust your position on the couch, causing him to catch a whiff of your perfume or your thigh will brush against his and he'll have to force his attention back to the characters on the screen.

No matter how distracting he may find your mere presence beside him, he's enjoying himself. This is by far the longest the two of you have hung out together, without the additions of his roommates and other friends. He dreads the moment that the movie ends and he’s obligated to tell you goodnight before reluctantly going back to his own apartment.

During the second act of the movie, he wonders what you’re thinking - if you could possibly be feeling the same way as him – when you randomly sit forward, grab the box of the leftover pizza off of the table in front of you, and stand to take it to your refrigerator.

It's then that he picks up on an odor – not the light floral aroma of your perfume but something new. A scent that answers the question of exactly what you had been thinking about. It’s musky and pheromonal, and even though it’s been a while since Logan has been intimate enough with a woman to smell the scent of her arousal, he recognizes it right away.

When you sit back down beside him, the sweet smell washes over him again and he bites the inside of his lip so hard that he tastes blood. The wound disappears as quickly as it’s formed, but the same can’t be said for the erection that begins to strain against the confines of his boxers.

He eyes the pile of small, decorative pillows that you had tossed to the side and wishes that he could grab one to place over his lap.

The words that you’d said to Vanessa a few days ago begin replaying in his mind for the thousandth time since he’d first heard you say them, reminding him this isn’t one-sided. He may be sitting here attempting to conceal a raging hard-on by shifting his position and subtly adjusting his pants, but Logan’s heightened sense of smell tells him that your underwear are probably starting to feel as uncomfortable as his do at the moment.

Without turning his head, he risks a glance at you. Your eyes are on the movie, and your face is neutral, but your posture gives you away. Your arms are crossed over your chest, the tips of your fingernails digging tiny crescent shaped indentations into the flesh of your upper arm. You have one of your thighs crossed over the other, locked together tightly but that doesn’t stop him from being able to smell how fucking wet you are.

“You know, if my sense of smell is as good as my sense of hearing, then I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’re thinking about right now,” Logan starts, his voice low and gruff. He watches from his peripheral vision as you freeze, your form going rigid.

“But I’d really like to hear you say it.”

You turn to him, your eyebrows quirked but your face otherwise impassive.

“I’m not sure I know what you’re talking about. What exactly is it that you’d like to hear me say?” you ask innocently. You give him doe eyes that make his cock finish filling with blood.

He huffs a laugh, picking up on the way that your heartrate accelerates when you look at him.

“I'd like to hear you say what you said to Vanessa a few days ago,” he hums. “I can’t remember exactly, but I think it had something to do with you rubbing your sweet little cunt on my abs. Does that sound familiar to you?”

“Hm,” you feign contemplation. “That doesn’t really sound like something I'd say.”

He knows you’re trying to play it cool, but there’s certain things that you just can’t hide from him – like the way your heart is beating a mile a minute and the way your nipples have pebbled beneath the thin material of your tank top.

“You’re right. It doesn't sound like something you’d say,” he snorts, and leans in so that your face is just a few inches from his. “So imagine my surprise when I walked by your apartment to hear you talking about jumping my adamantium bones.”

He doesn't miss the way your breath catches in your throat or how your eyes flicker to his lips.

“You gonna do it? Or you just gonna keep thinking about it while you're sitting beside me?”

For a second, you say nothing and Logan struggles to read your expression. Then, without taking your eyes off of him, you slowly stand in front of the couch. You reach for the hem of your tank top and pull it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up.

Logan's mouth goes dry. Suddenly, he's all out of smart remarks.

You hook your thumbs into the waistband of your pajama shorts, pushing them down your thighs along with your panties, and let them both drop to your feet all while holding his gaze.

With you now stark naked before him, he leans forward, grasping you by the backs of your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. You straddle him, gently pushing him back against the sofa.

He tugs his own shirt over his head while you undo his belt buckle and pop open the top button of his jeans, your hands fumbling when he sheds his shirt.

Logan doesn’t typically think too much about his physical appearance. He knows he’s in good shape, and thinks he’s conventionally attractive enough. But he could see himself getting a bit of an ego, if he had someone looking at him the way you are right now on a regular basis.

You help him shimmy his jeans and boxers down far enough for his cock to spring free. You take him in your hand, using your thumb to smear the thick bead of pre-cum across the head.

“You should be careful listening to people’s conversations outside of their doors,” you hum as you pump him in one hand. You hunch over, lowering your mouth enough to spit down his shaft, lubricating the length. You smirk, glancing up at him from beneath your thick eyelashes. “Other people might not react as happily as me.”

Fuck, he knows it’s been a long time since he's even felt anyone’s hands on him, but he feels a little pathetic at the way his balls are already tightening and feeling so heavy just from the way you’re languidly stroking him.

And as much as he’d love for you to keep your hands on him, there’s time for him later. Right now, what he wants more than anything is the feeling of your pussy on him.

He pulls your hand off of him and then tugs you over his erection, trying his hardest to ignore the way the wetness between your legs glides against the tip of his cock, until you’re flat against the hard expanse of his lower stomach.

“This is what you wanted, yeah?” He grunts. You whimper in response, tightening your thighs around his sides and rocking back and forth with the smallest amount of friction. “Don’t be holding back, wanna feel you make a mess on me.”

His words seem to erase any remaining reservation that you may have had. You brace your hands on his chest and begin dragging your center across his lower stomach, your slick coating the thick trail of hair that goes from his belly button to his waistline. With every backstroke, the head of his cock juts against your ass.

You glide across him easily. Soft, wet, and warm, Logan thinks that if you feel this good on his fucking stomach then there’s no way he’ll be able to handle being inside you.

He leans his head forward, capturing one of your nipples in his mouth. You hold his head in your hands, tugging on his hair with your fingers as he teases your nipple with his tongue and teeth.

He pulls his mouth away from your breast with a wet pop. “You like this? Using me to get yourself off?”

“Mm-hmm,” you nod frantically, your answer coming out as a moan. He gives a quick, firm slap to your other breast. Judging by the sound it draws from you, you like it, so he does it again.

He'd pictured this exact scenario a shameful number of times in the last few days, but his thoughts hadn’t done you justice. Every little noise you make, every little whimper and moan as your clit brushes against the thick bulges of his muscles again and again, sounds sweeter than he could've dreamed.

He places his hands on the meat of your hips, guiding you forwards and backwards across his abdomen at a fast pace.

“Fuck,” you gasp, clenching your thighs around him as tight as you can. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum—”

“That’s right,” he coos. “Come on, cum on me.”

You dig your fingernails into his shoulders, drenching the hair on his stomach as you ride out your orgasm on him with a cry of his name.

You collapse against his chest, going still with your face in the crook of his neck as you steady your breathing.

“Look at me,” he whispers after a moment. It hits him that despite the fact that you just humped him until you came all over his abdomen, he somehow hasn’t even kissed you yet.

You pull away from his neck, looking down at him with a dazed expression. He brings your face to his mouth by the back of your neck. He wastes no more time, instantly slipping his tongue past your lips.

He holds you by the globes of your ass, which hovers just above his erection. You grind down, causing the tip of his cock to nudge against your entrance. He groans into your mouth, his cock past the point of feeling like it’s going to explode if he doesn’t fucking feel you.

“We can stop here,” he murmurs against your lips when he breaks the kiss, even though the thought kills him. He doesn’t want to stop kissing you, touching you, tasting you. It’s only been a few months, but it feels like he’s been waiting a lifetime for this and the last thing he wants is for it to come to an end. “Don’t have to go any further if you don’t—”

“No,” you exclaim with a breathy laugh. “No, I don’t want to stop. Do you want to stop?”

He grins up at you, taking his length in his hand and teasing it through your folds from below you. He coats the head in your juices before nudging it against your hole.

“Definitely don’t wanna stop, sweetheart.”

You sink down onto him at the same moment that he tilts his hips up enough to slip inside you, causing the entirety of his length to fill you at once.

You both go still, adjusting to the new sensation of each other. Your walls, velvet soft and so warm, constrict around him like a vice. He knows you’re likely tired from riding him through your first orgasm, so he begins thrusting his hips slowly, the tip of his cock nudging against your cervix.

“You’re big. So, so big,” you moan – something between a whine and a praise.

“I know, but you’re doing so good, honey,” he encourages as he eases himself in and out of you. “Don’t worry, I got you.”

You latch your lips to his again, and it’s hard for him to hold back. The feeling of your tight, perfect cunt around him and the taste of your tongue in his mouth is overwhelming. He wants to memorize every movement, every sound you make.

You snake your hand between your bodies, your fingertips finding your swollen clit and massaging languid circles. He feels you flutter around him as you start meeting his thrusts with movements of your own, and he knows you’re close.

“Not gonna last much longer, honey,” he grunts with a sharp thrust. “Feel too fucking good.”

“Cum with me,” you murmur against his mouth.

Your command causes something in him to snap. He releases a throaty growl, pistoning his hips upwards at a harsh pace as he fills you up from below. You constrict around him, crying his name into his ear as you ride out your climaxes together.

You collapse against his chest once more, his cock still nestled inside you. He loses track of how long the two of you stay like that, neither of you wanting to be the first to move.

“Remind me to eavesdrop on your conversations more often,” he huffs a laugh, still slightly out of breath.

You bring your lips to his, smiling as you give him a light kiss.

“I’ll know if you do. I have a doorbell camera. You didn’t notice that?”

thank you so much for reading <3 comments and reblogs are super appreciated. here are a few more of my favorite logan pieces that i've written ✨️

for always and ever is always for you - old man logan x healer reader

diet pepsi - old man logan x reader limousine sex

lavender and velvet - worst variant logan x neighbor reader

[mqrrstarr]

Gladiator Headcanons! (1/?)

How the Characters would act if you: Had A Cold!

Character x GN! Reader

Warnings: s3x implied

Characters Featured: Maximus, Lucilla, Commodus, Acacius, Caracalla, Geta, Lucius, Macrinus (edited: I never actually wrote anything for him but I did now)

A/N: First Tumblr post in a while, and I'm actually writing things too! This is the first time I've written elaborate headcanons, so please forgive if they seem a little off. I apologize for any historical/character innacuracies, and I hope to get better!! xoxo -mqrrstarr

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Maximus would immediately notice something is off. You kept complaining about a headache that didn’t seem to stop, and your temperature was high. 

“Darling, I don’t think you should fight today…”

You could only cough in response, and the guards wouldn’t let you rest. As the day’s challenge was fighting in pairs, he rapidly volunteered to fight with you. Maximus protected you from the other gladiators, and killed them as fast as you could sneeze. By the end of the day, Maximus gave you his blanket and other amenities, ushering you to a more comfier cell. (He had placed a bet with another gladiator.)

“There darling, rest up nice and easy.”

I can also see Maximus getting the other gladiators to create a soup/stew sort of mixture. Not good. But he’s very fatherly, if you can get that?

- - - - - - - -

Lucilla knows everything. After taking care of Lucius as a child, she can rapidly tell when you’re not feeling well.

“Sweetie? Do you feel alright?”

She’d do the mom thing, put her hand on your forehead and try to figure out what was wrong with you. Your head was practically boiling, so she’d get her servants to make tea, lay you in her triclinium and keep you company.

“The servants will prove useful sweetie. You’re a strong warrior, so keep hanging on.”

She’d hum a lullaby, read poetry (the same she’d read to Lucius) and tell stories until you fell asleep. 

- - - - - - - -

Commodus was rarely comforted growing up, so he knew how to handle sickness easily. Growing up semi-independent, he knew homemade tricks and tips to feel better.

“Y/N, are you not feeling well? Just get some herbs and drink an elixir. You’ll be fine.”

He realizes that he sounds a bit harsh, and reminds himself that he never wants to treat you how he was treated; with solitude and no gratitude. Commodus gets you all the snacks and food you want, and even hugs you for as long as you want. 

When you question him after it’s been a whole afternoon of him on your chest, he simply says,

“Y/N, do not question the Emperor. I wish to lay with you, and I do not fear sickness. The Gods can protect one of their own.”

He keeps hugging you and falls asleep, and the next day you’re both coughing and sneezing. 

- - - - - - - -

Acacius has been through so many battles and massacres, yet he’s never truly encountered a cold. The soldiers that cough, are usually dead. Coughing up their own blood, that is. He really doesn’t know how to help you properly, but he’ll try his best.

“Angel, can you tell me what’s wrong? I’m not really sure what to do. Should I get a doctor? Are you feeling a certain way?”

and as he says this, Acacius would use his hands to caress yours, and treat you even more like a princess/prince. He’d lay you in his own bed, and give you massages until you’d feel better. He’d also do a little more if you’d want. Iykyk. You’d fall asleep quickly, and you’d wake up to Acacius either next to you, or on a chair by the bedside and he’d be all sprawled out. His soldier senses would wake him up though.

“Angel? Angel? You’re all right now, that’s wonderful. My lovely Venus, you’re all healed.”

And his words, he would seal with a forehead kiss. GOD HE’S SUCH A SWEETHEART I NEED PEDRO PASCAL

- - - - - - - -

Caracalla had his own sickness, the one of syphilis. His wild mentality usually was what kept him going, and the love of ruling over Rome. Yet the Emperor cared for his significant other, and refused to let anyone else; even his closest servants touch you.

“My Wife/Husband, the most holiest of them all, I shall take care of you. Please tell me what your most vivid desires are? Allow me to assist you.”

He’s such a sweetheart, and he’d definitely tell you so many stories of him and Geta in their childhood, Roman mythology, and anything to keep you entertained. As he also has mommy and daddy issues, he also do a Commodus-esque move and lay on your chest and probably fall asleep first haha. When the both of you awake, he'd hear your stomach rumble.

“You’re hungry? Well then I shall feed you. Anything for you my love.”

He’d keep you filled with food and him to help your weak state. (CARACALLA COME HOME THE KIDS AND I MISS YOU)

- - - - - - - -

Geta was always stressed.  Getting much more to do as Emperor, as Caracalla had his own “duties” to fulfill. When you started coughing and sneezing as you strolled in the palace garden, he’d send the servants away to prepare a room where you could quarantine. As much as he loved you, he’d refuse to get sick. (Rome needs a healthy representation.) So you’d be alone the first few days with the occasional knock on the door. When you seemed less sick than before, he’d spend all the time with you.

“My love? I’m here for you. The Gods have finally allotted time for our get together. It will be only the finest in Rome for the night; us.”

He’d definitely turn the situation into a fun (fucking) night and then the days after that would be a cycle of laying together, fine dining meals, and caressing. (your bodies, of course.) When he has to return to his Emperor duties, he’ll leave with a long romantic and passionate kiss, one that made your entire body warm.

“Won’t be long. I’ll be back in the night.”

(if you couldn't tell i love the idea of geta as needy all the time)

- - - - - - - -

Lucius knew what it was like to feel sick and tired constantly, so he took care of you. Like a shepherd tending to his favorite sheep. Both of you grand warriors and gladiators, so there was no time to feel bad. He reassured you he could fight without you, and vowed to come back every time.

“Dearest, I promise to return safely. I couldn’t leave my soul with you, it has to be me truly here always. I vow on our love to fight for freedom and the peace of Rome. I will also fight for you.”

You trusted Lucius, (WHO WOULDN’T WITH THOSE BLUE EYES) and he is a man of his word. Day after day, you slowly healed and was able to rejoin Lucius and the others again.

“See? I knew you’d heal. The Gods give power to those who are great. And you are great.”

You fought as usual, but he’d still protect you a little more to ensure you were actually okay. 

- - - - - - - -

Macrinus would see you and get together some gladiators in your presence, hoping they would entertain you and help you ignore the pain.

“Sickness is nothing but temporary Y/N. You can and have the power to move on.”

You’d take his advice and eventually keep doing your work as his assistant, and he’d make sure you were well taken care of.

“Y/N? A true warrior does not dawdle. Good job keeping up with your tasks.”

Surprisingly, you were able to keep up with work and healed faster than expected. (THERE I WROTE FOR MACRINUS)

[pickledillytea]

Photo credit to: qvert.tumblr.com Thank you for your amazing art and for inspiring me to write my first Arcane/CaitVi one-shot.

~*~

MIDNIGHT RAIN

The rain was pelting down outside, hammering against the glass windows and at that hour it was a deafening sound echoing throughout the Kiramman Mansion. Some people would find comfort in the rain, find that it actually soothes them but for Caitlyn it was a maddening sound. A sound that kept her from drifting to an eventual slumber. 

She had stared at the ceiling for what felt like hours, Vi draped over her like a safety blanket but the warmth emanating from her lover wasn’t enough to lull her to sleep, this time. She had shimmied herself from Vi’s arms, careful not to wake her and started to wander around the dark hallways of the mansion, no particular destination in mind.

Caitlyn of course having been raised in this house knew the ins and outs like the back of her hand but there were certain rooms she just didn’t enter anymore. Particularly those her mother frequented. It brought back too many memories but tonight she felt braver than usual. She stopped outside the music room and caressed the golden door handle, slowly twisting the knob until it creaked open, the hinges coming to life after not having been in use for months. 

The moonlight was strong enough to penetrate through the cloudy black skies and heavy downpour illuminating the room enough through the open curtains for Caitlyn to make her way around without bumping into anything.

She still felt her mother’s presence around the house but she especially could feel it in this room tonight. The faint smell of her distinctive perfume lingered and Caitlyn could see her mother almost as clear as day behind the grand piano, playing sweet melodies that had Caitlyn in awe and her dad in love. 

So much so fascinated by her mother’s talent that she sat her down one day and taught Caitlyn to read music and play her own melodies all before the age of 6 which she did with an expertise that could only be associated with being a Kiramman. The best of the best as some would say. But Caitlyn was just very determined from a very young age. 

Looking at the instrument now only brought a cloud of sadness over her. She hadn’t touched the piano in years and wondered if she even remembers how to play. She drags her finger across the top of the now dusty black hood of the piano, leaving a clean trail in its wake. Apparently no one has bothered to clean in here either. 

She hesitantly sits down on the cushioned chair, carefully lifting the lid. That too creaks. She runs her slender fingers over the black and white keys, scared to press down. It was probably out of tune by now anyway.

She tests her theory by pressing the first chord she ever learned and to her surprise it rang out clear and in tune. She tries another for good measure and sure enough that too is perfect. She then places both hands on the keys like she was taught and plays the first song she ever learned from her mother. A slow, sweet melody that brings tears to her eyes.

“I didn’t know you could play.” A raspy and sleepy voice disrupts her playing.

Caitlyn immediately drops her hands as if she was caught doing something she shouldn’t and turns just as Vi slowly walks over to her and sits besides her facing away from the piano.

“Don’t stop. It’s a beautiful song.” She says, looking at her hands.

“I haven’t played in ages.” Caitlyn confesses, feeling Vi’s shoulder brush against hers, a familiar comfort she has come to cherish more than anything these days. Vi’s touches was slowly but surely healing her.

“I couldn’t tell. It sounded perfect to me.” Vi says truthfully.

Caitlyn scoffs not really on the same page with that statement.

“Would you play it again? For me?” Her voice low and irresistible.

I would do anything for you, Caitlyn wanted to say but instead gave Vi a rueful smile before mustering up the courage to play again. She however chose a different song this time, something with a slightly more romantic feel to it, something she always imagines herself to play if she were in love and now seemed like the perfect time for it. She squares her shoulders and closes her eyes, seeing the sheet music in her mind.

The notes start off deep and low building into a light playful crescendo of melodies and runs and Caitlyn finds herself fully immersed in the song, picturing herself and Violet dancing in slow circles around this very room, close together, so close that they feel like one body moving, one soul intertwined.

She feels the soft weight of Vi’s cheek coming to rest on her shoulder while she continues to play. Her red hair is longer than she has ever seen it cascading down Cait’s arm, the tips tickling her forearm. She is tempted to run her fingers through them instead of having them glued to the keys but she is also determined to finish the song. Vi’s head is perfectly tucked into the crook of her neck, a warmth that seeps into her skin and boils down her spine.

Vi listens to the melody, lost in its beauty, letting the notes wash over her like a balm. She can’t help but to kiss Cailyn’s shoulder, sweetly to the rhythm of the music but that little bit of contact wasn’t enough. She lifts her head then and kisses the inside of Caitlyn’s exposed neck, eliciting a giggle from her lover but her fingers never falter on the keyboard. 

Vi takes that as a challenge to continue to kiss a little higher, just below her ear which has Caitlyn pressing the wrong note, the distraction enough to make her slip this time. She however quickly recovers, righting herself and picking up right where she left off.

Vi smirks, loving that she has this effect on Caitlyn with just the press of her lips which also spurs her on to continue. She turns slightly, pressing her chest fully against Cait’s arm and kisses the side of her jaw next. She works her way across Caitlyn’s cheek, peppering kisses all over before she stops short of the side of her mouth. 

Vi stays in that position, her nose brushing against the softness of Caitlyn’s skin, until she plays the last note. The sound rings out in the quiet room leaving an eerie quiet in its wake and she waits for Caitlyn to look at her.

When she does, their eyes lock and a sharp intake of breath is shared between them before they slowly come together in fusing of lips. Cait turns toward Vi and softly cups her jaw while they kiss each other in the dark room. Breathlessly they pull back from each other, staying only inches apart. They share a shy smile and Caitlyn’s thumb finds the indented scar on Vi’s lip, brushing over it gently.

“I hate waking up without you next to me.” Vi confesses in a whisper.

“I didn’t want to wake you with my tossing and turning.”

“I’d rather you wake me, Cupcake.”

“I’ll remember that next time.” Cait leans forward leaving a chaste kiss on Vi’s lips.

“Shall we try again then?” Vi proposes.

“To kiss?”

“To sleep. Get your mind out of the gutter, Kiramman.” Vi jokes, “However I do think we can combine the two in some way. How about kissing in bed until we fall asleep?”

“I like the way you think, Violet.”

~*~

PS, the song Caitlyn plays for Vi in this story is Berlin Song by Ludovico Einaudi

[suzukiblu]

Day twenty-one of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Yeah, there you go, boy,” Bernard says approvingly, squeezing his ass again, and Kon pushes it back into his hands a little on the next rock of his hips–that’ll look good for Tim too, right? Look–“pretty”, or just whatever Bernard wants to call it. “Just show Tim how good you feel right now, alright? You got my dick all inspired for this, buddy, so let him see what a good job you did with it.” 

“Your dick, yeah,” Kon gasps out half-senselessly, rocking his hips a little faster and trying so hard not to use any super-speed or anything he can’t reinforce Bernard’s body–and the bed–enough to handle. But if–if he’s supposed to be giving Tim something to watch, he doesn’t have to watch his mouth so much, so–so–“Feels so good in me, wanted it so bad, thank you thank you, feels so good, I fuckin’ love it, wanna come on it again, please lemme, lemme come on it an’ I’ll be so good, I’ll be anything y’want, lemme come on the whole thing.” 

“God, your fucking mouth,” Bernard groans before burying his own in Kon’s neck, and his skin buzz-buzz-buzzes and–“Oh, you’re so cute, boy, go on, you can stay right in my lap and beg all you want.” 

“Please,” Kon moans back immediately, rocking his hips down a little harder than he means to, and Bernard hisses appreciatively against the tendon in his throat and then drops his mouth down to his collarbone and then down to–his chest, which Kon abruptly remembers promising Bernard he could play with all he wanted and immediately has to stifle a whine over. “B-Bernard, please, I really–” 

Bernard bites his sternum; kisses the upward curve of one of his pecs. Squeezes his double-handed grip on his ass again and spreads his ass with that squeeze, which makes Kon realize that he’s doing it deliberately and probably did the lifting thing deliberately too, and realize just how much Tim must be seeing of the way his hole’s taking Bernard’s dick, like–just between the angle and the grip Bernard has on him and the obvious effort the other is obviously going to, which–fuck, how did he not realize that immediately? Or at least a little sooner? 

He nearly chokes on another moan and rocks his hips down a little bit harder and tries so hard not to be–be too much or too greedy or–he’s supposed to be–he’s supposed to–

Does Tim like it? Does Tim think–does Tim think he’s being . . . being pretty enough for him? He’s not saying anything, but Kon can still feel him watching, and . . . and he doesn’t know what Tim’s thinking, obviously, but he’s already getting embarrassingly close to coming again himself, because– because Tim gave him to Bernard, Tim wants to see this, Tim thinks he’s something worth the giving, something worth giving his boyfriend who makes him get all cute and flustered and smitten and smiley and shit–Tim thinks he’s something good enough to give to that boyfriend, and thinks he can make that boyfriend feel good and make him happy and make him come, thinks he’s something that boyfriend will like– 

And he feels like Bernard does like him, right now. 

Actually, right now he feels like Bernard really likes him, considering. 

But also, he has literally not even gotten his dick touched again, and he still feels like he could come like this. That’s–that’s really– 

Bernard said he was good at it, some hazy, sticky-warm part of Kon thinks, somewhere in that floaty space he’s not quite reaching but really feels like he wants to. Bernard said . . . 

“Really, really cute,” Bernard murmurs against his chest, and Kon bites the inside of his cheek and shudders. Bernard said he’s good at this. Bernard thinks he’s–thinks he’s cute, which is still not something he’s ever gotten off on hearing before getting in this bed but is also still definitely something he’s getting off on hearing right now. 

Actually, he’s pretty sure the only reason he can last at all is because no one is touching his dick right now.

[naamahdarling]

As a nonbinary person in their 40s, who didn't get the chance to be a mess of a queer in their 20s because I didn't have words for any of it then and was in a relationship where I couldn't really socialize with other queer people, I'm utterly delighted by Taash. They're actually an incredible character and complaining about a game with this much exploration of trans identities is something I never expected ANY of you younger folks to be able to do, much less myself. We wouldn't have had this even 10 years ago, let alone have had something as explicitly queer as it is.

At first I thought it was all going to be handled a lot more subtly than it was. It wasn't. It's all right out there. And I love that.

Taash is just doing their best while in a super awkward place in their personal development. They don't have to express every perfect thought and word and belief, and don't have to be an idealized representation of a nonbinary person (which is a ludicrous concept to begin with, as the identity is so inherently varied and diverse).

They are a character whose trans identity is actually explored very well and is central to their arc instead of being handled casually off to the side. You as a player have to look at it, and I think that's really fucking remarkable.

It may not be exactly what you would have done, or wanted, but it wasn't done badly. There's been a line or an interaction or two that I thought genuinely should have been done differently, but I have NEVER seen a single piece of media where that wasn't the case. Veilguard isn't special. The game overall has been really, really well-done in ways that moved me very deeply.

I'm about 3/4 of the way through, so unless they fumble all the queer stuff in a truly astonishing way in the last act, I feel comfortable saying this is one of the most remarkable pieces of mainstream media (by which I mean its intended audience is not queer people) I have seen in terms of queer identity.

We are lucky to have it to tear apart because we love letting the perfect be the enemy of the good.

This is why I can't take this fandom seriously.

Taash is in their very early 20's. They are not a “thousands of years old being who speaks in iambs” or whatever the fuck it is that Solavellans gush on about. Not a goddamn thing they say is “crap” - it's short, it's to the point, it's very often funny as fuck because it pulls no punches. It serves as comedic punctuation very often simply because they don't have the patience for other people's bullshit.

I never see specifics as to what people find cringey and I suspect it's because people are uncomfortable with Taash's identity, or CONSTANTLY forget they are 20-23. And holy shit the cringe things everyone says at that age.

Taash is remarkable and mature for their age, an expert in their favorite subject, and recognized as such by people much older than them, who literally put their lives in Taash's hands regularly. I think Taash is allowed a few moments to be weird and 20 once in a fucking while without people coming for Trick and gurgling on about inconsistent writing.

[seventh-district]

Figured I'd try my hand at some Redacted character post/text edits!

[ 1 / ? ]

Credit to @/sainthowlzon for all the Listener icons, and to @/elisacaleisa for their google drive with all the canon icons!

(slightly alternative version of the Solaires' GC edit below the cut bc i had a lil too much fun with what Vincent would name his contacts)

[sibillascribbles08]

Big Ol' Rottmnt Fic Rec List

Hi, I've needed to do this for a while, so here's a big bundle of fic recs from me !

I've broken it down between one shots, chaptered fics, and series. I'll try to mention what the character focus is along with a brief summary and some personal thoughts. If you need more details I encourage you to check the fics summary and tags for yourself! I will only include an author's tumblr account if it's easy for me to find haha

One Shots

Mama's Boy - ashtreelane: Technically two chapters but it feels like a one shot. Casey Jr. angst, involving him finding out that maybe you can fix kraang infections and that he failed to save his mother. I love when people really pile the grief on Junior after all the fighting is over and the fic does it so well.

Forget-Me-Nots - GibbousLunation (AKA @klunkcat ): Hi, oh my god??? Leo and Mikey centric angst, in which saving Leo from the prison dimension has an insane ripple effect. Mikey dying? Nah he's going to start getting erased from every timeline and Leo slowly watches it happen (and refuses to do nothing about it). I utterly adore how this fic handles this concept. You see almost all of it from Leo's POV, noticing the little changes but writing them off as memory failures, because of how subtle some of it is.

Fight or Flight - pickledcarrotsandradish: Leo centric, post movie, Leo keeps waiting for his family to start lecturing him about all the dumb stuff he did during the invasion, and they aren't, so it's getting to him. A very neat narrative about how self loathing can warp our perception of how others see us. A++++

The Friend Zone Sounds Pretty Good, Actually - Cryptvokeeper: Eating this, eating this. You probably already know I love aroace Leo and this fic is an INCREDIBLE exploration of that. Even as just an ace person it hit SO many notes where I was just like "Oh god... I've been there buddy". And as a bonus the dynamic between Leo and Yuichi is v sweet. Love this a lot I've read it like five times.

Pink in The Night - unnamedmystery: Incredible April/Sunita fic. Like seriously this author wrote April's crush so well I think I was starting to fall in love with Sunita. Just incredibly cute all the way through, and great April writing, adore it.

《 until then, matriarch 》 - chiangyorange: HI OH MY GOD A nice chunky oneshot about Karai, about her being a leader, and it's phenomenal. It hits and hits and does not miss, really going in depth about her emotions involving her father turning into something wicked and having to destroy him, and how it ruins all of her good memories.

The Kindness of Collision - SpoonerizedSwiftness (AKA @splickedylit ): Hi I still remember the fic and the art suddenly showing up in the tag and then I was thinking about it for the next like five weeks aslkdjf A very interesting idea that when the turtles reach the age they were in the doomed timeline before things got reset, all the memories of their other life more or less hit them like a train. All of them have to comb through that information and it's a wonderful and emotional ride.

Chaptered Fics

Hamartia - Punable (in progress): Hi this is one of my all time favorite rise fics, mainly because in a way, it helped me come to terms with my chronic pain. It's Donnie centric and smack full of angst in all the best ways. Shorthand summary, an explosion in Donnie's lab almost takes him out (or kind of DOES take him out) and the recovery is not only long and agonizing, it may only go so far, and Donnie doesn't cope well with that.

Kick It Up a Notch - Brokenpitchpipe (completed): Hi this is my other all time fav rise fic. Donnie centric separated AU in which Donnie is raised by Draxum. My love for it stems a lot from the characterization of Donnie though, and even Draxum in this case. Not to mention that in a lot of cases it matches the vibes of the show. And in spite of all the humor, there's a few really gut wrenching moments. 10/10 will re-read.

Lightning in Our Fingertips Today - DaFlangsLairde (AKA @daflangstlairde-art) (completed): Leo and Donnie centric, mostly angst, with body swapping between the twins which results in Donnie finding out that Leo's ninpo hurts him. Love love love the character writing in this, and also how the swap is written.

Under Pressure - ParvumAutomaton (completed): Not sure this is a single character focused fic, but basically April goes cave diving and is out for a while, and the turtles get worried and go looking for her. This might be personal bias but as someone who gets really into caving stories, this fic hits the spot for so many reasons. A really great emotional ride, and if you wanna see April go through it then I super recommend it.

Nothing Haunts Us (like the things we don't say) - mad_and_thick_as_theives (completed): A lot of great fics by this author btw, but this one personally stood out to me. It starts of silly and light only to sweep in with the emotional weight. Turtles are all cursed with a truth spell, basically, but I think my favorite bit is who gets out of it first (and why). V sweet.

Creation of a Philospher's Stone - IgnisCanis (completed): Whoooo boy, if you want some Draxum centric character exploration this is a great one. It really fleshes him out as a morally grey character and also does a fantastic job at writing Mikey when he finds out.

The Ol Switcheroo - radishhqueen (AKA @radishhqueen) (completed): Haha not going to lie I have a few by this author (so I'll only tag them once) but MAN. Hands down my favorite take on future leo coming to the past, and maybe I'm biased because I like when those fics actually explore Junior's character in the process buuuuut I love it. Junior's already struggling to adapt himself to the present, and after getting caught up in a foot clan spell which summons his sensei to the present too it really doesn't get any easier.

Vigilantism for Fun and Profit - radishhqueen (completed): The Cassandra Jones fic ever. Zero contest. If you're uncertain about writing Cassandra because she had so little development in the show I encourage you to read this for inspiration (I know it inspired me a lot). It does such a great deep dive into her character post show and a bit of the movie too. Honestly anytime radishh has a Cassandra fic I am clicking.

Tried to Grow Up Good - Sroloc_Elbisivni (AKA @sroloc--elbisivni )(completed): The Casey Jr. fic ever. CRAZY in love with this post movie take on him. It's messy, it's fun, it's so so real and you get a good chunk of Casey Sr. in here too. Adore it.

Hold On (Or Three Times Donatello's Soft Shell Almost Killed Him, and One Time it Saved His Life) - dunk_on_em (AKA @spockazilla )(completed): If you ever want a bit of angst involving Donnie's shell this is my go to. Every chapter has an emotional swing, even the positive ones. And shows something most people might see as a disadvantage as a good thing, actually.

Atlas, My Brother - swampcryptid (AKA @the-name-is-rizzotherat)(in progress): Get your Raph angst, specifically involving him always shielding his siblings, this time via a curse. My guy is already going through it and I think it'll get worse if a solution isn't found.

I've Got You Under My Skin - Cass_Phoenix (in progress): More Raph angst, and some Donnie, a truly chilling exploration of the possible consequences to connecting with the kraang. This fic constantly has me on the edge of my seat, and constantly stressing for Raph.

What We Leave Behind (How We Start Anew) - iam57311 (AKA @iam-57311)(in progress): Any Baronjitsu fans here? An alternate take on canon in which Draxum and Splinter co-parent the kids since they're first born (made?) Hilariously while I love the Baronjitsu content in here, I think some of my favorite parts are actually with the sisters, Big Mama, and Draxum's sister who is so so cool I love her.

Proof of Redemption - iam57311 (complete): Another one of theirs! A short and sweet lil close to canon fic about Draxum steadily gaining the trust and affection of the Hamatos, with each chapter focused on a different character. I love how they're all paced out from each other, really hits how some are much slower than others to trust Draxum hehe.

No Crime* Only Brooches - OllieTheScribe (AKA @olliethescribe) (in progress): Well I have to get THE HypnoWarren fic in here. Such a fun take on these characters, I love love love the backstory they built up for Warren too, plus the dynamic between these two and the turtles after (eventually) become friends haha.

Minor Interference - bambiraptorx (AKA @bambiraptorx) (in progress): What can I say? This fic is delightful. Between the hilarity of the turtles going with Draxum just to mess with him, the lore additions for yokai and the Hidden City, HoH Donnie, and their slowly building dynamic, always eager for a new chapter with this one.

Series

A Butterfly with a Mechanical Wing - Amethyst_Goldenwind (AKA @amethystgoldenwind ): Donnie centric series about being a non-verbal autistic. I'm always fond of non-verbal/mute explorations of characters, and so far I really like how, because his family has grown up with it, all of it is very normal for them. The various forms of communication are delightful. Excited to see further entries.

Analogous Hues - alwerakoo (AKA @alwerakoo): It's a separated AU with similar titling themes as my own, needed to check it out. The titles are just about all they have in common though! This AU focuses a lot on the turtles (Raph and Leo with Splinter and Donnie and Mikey with Draxum). I love how this explores not only the dynamics of the two groups and how different they are, but also the dynamics between each of the siblings, also how some magic sibling connections can influence that. Not to mention the different home life in more ways than one. If you're into separated AUs that really dig into the turtles dynamics try this one out !

[sunnie-angel]

Sunnie I've been inundated with thoughts of wuh luh wuh!!!! How do you think childhood bff femjay would react to reader inviting her over for a sleepover (aka, the thing they haven't done together since they were young, before Jay's death). I'm thinking about the fact that Jay's got a crazy suppressed crush on her best friend and she doesn't know if she can handle r braiding Jay's hair or painting her nails, close and gentle and so much softer than Jay is 🩷

as you should!!!! the jay todd wlw brainrot is here to stay and sanne you are cooking up something sooo delicious with this idea

you invite jay over and before you've even got the sentence out she's nodding her head and agreeing, asking what time to come over and if she should bring her own pillow. because it means everything's back to normal if you want to resume all your old traditions together right? that you're ready to trust her with your vulnerable sleeping form, the soft huffs of your slumbering breaths, the rise and fall of your--. oh. oh this is not gonna be the same at all.

you order takeout and its jay's favourite, her order exactly. you didn't even have to ask because you already know.....wait does this mean the two of you have a regular order? a regular order to a regular restaurant that you know by heart? jay's trying really, really hard not to choke on her lo mein but its hard when she's coming to the catastrophic realization that not only do you know her well, you've incorporated her little quirks into your life so effortlessly.

you put on a movie -- one the two of you have seen so many times before but it makes you laugh so jay really doesn't mind -- settle yourself on the couch beside her and start to braid her hair. and it should be fine right? you've done it so many times for her, before and after resurrecting. you even braid her hair semi-regularly if she's hanging out with you before patrol, so this should be no big deal. wrong. usually, you're not wearing your pyjamas with the stretched out neckline slipping off your shoulders and giving jay an eyeful of more.....intimate sights. you're not usually adding in hair oils and leave in conditioner that smells oh so good and just like you. you're not finishing the ends of her braids with soft satin scrunchies in a shade of red jay's sure you didn't own before tonight. you don't usually spend long minutes after you're done running your nails lightly over her scalp until she's a melted puddle on the couch. then its her turn and her large scarred hands feel so clumsy running a brush through your hair but you don't run away screaming when she encounters the first knot so she'll call it a win. jay's so giddy at the chance to bury her hands in your hair and just play.

she hardly dares breathe when you nestle in beside her, pulling the throw blanket over you both. your arms are circling her waist gently keeping her close and jay doesn't think that even clark could peel her away because your head is resting on her shoulder and your bare thighs in their tiny shorts are pressed up against hers. every time you laugh, jay can feel your breath on her collarbones, the way shake against her ribs. jay couldn't tell you a single thing that happened during the entire movie if you asked her. no, she was too wrapped up in you using her as a pillow, trusting her to keep you close.

the credits roll and you blink up at her blearily, face too close for her to concentrate on anything you're actually saying. she comes to her sense when you start talking about which side of the bed she wants to take, if its still the same as it used to be. like yes you two used to share a bed as kids but she'd just kinda assumed she'd be taking the couch??? and you're laughing at her telling her not to be so silly, you've shared sooo many times before this time won't be any different. she's laying stiff as a board in bed trying desperately not to touch or encroach too far but you're snuggling up to her again, adjusting her strong arms to fold around you just so, so that you have one to pillow your head. this is a sleepover though right? you can't just go straight t obed you have to gossip first. and you're sorry you didn't pick up any magazines for topics but jay remembers how to do girl talk right? so who's jay crushing on, hmmm? somebody you both know?

[official-sonic-team]

sonic movie 3 review

okay let’s discuss the major changes they made in this movie

gerald is alive and well: instead of execution, gerald was simply imprisoned for the past 50 years. he’s 110 and they don’t explain why he’s still alive. assumingly it’s because of shadow’s quill but they don’t actually explain it. he manages to vie for freedom by completeing the eclipse canon schematics for GUN to build. but gerald is very much alive and a very large, active player in this movie

Maria’s death: a GUN soldier does not shoot her. an accident during the shut down of the project shadow causes chaos energy to explode. maria is killed in the explosion. gerald, who was in the blast and roughly the same distance as maria, inexplicably lives. they don’t explain that. but the takeaway is 1) maria dies from an accident 2) she doesn’t even die trying to save shadow. worth noting there’s also no “sayonara shadow the hedgehog”

shadows backstory: shadow was NOT created by Gerald robotnik. a meteor crashed into earth and he was inside. the scientists were researching him as a power source. he is again 1) not created by Gerald 2) NOT a cure for maria. maria probably isn’t even sick they make no reference to it gerald just likes having her around apparently

the final story: ok where to start. 1) there is no space colony ark. shadow and maria and gerald are in some sort of underground military base and that’s where every thing happened- no ark. 2) there is NO biolizard/final hazard. he’s referenced one time as a Godzilla rip off and that’s it since gerald don’t make shadow. 3) the big final issue is that gerald set the eclipse cannon to destroy earth. Sonic and shadow manage to divert the cannon fire. however, the eclipse cannon’s power core becomes destabilized and if it blows, it’ll decimate the atmosphere of earth. Sonic fell from space during them pushing the laser away from the earth so shadow is the one who pushes the eclipse cannon far away from earth while eggman stabilized it long enough for shadow to do that. the cannon blows up and eggman and shadow are presumed dead.

there is no chaos control: shadow uses it like a handful of times during the initial team sonic fight and then it’s not really used ever again. they don’t chaos control the eclipse cannon they just push it around. no fake emerald either.

the moon being destroyed: is an accident. while they’re trying to divert the laser from hitting the earth they accidentally hit the moon. it is not an intentional show of power from eggman, it’s just an accident.

i think those are maybe the BIGGEST changes. obviously no rouge either. they also treat the GUN commander as a good guy who dies Heroically.

one of the other big differences is that there’s a super sonic & shadow fight. shadow critically injured tom by accident and sonic uses the chaos emeralds to turn super to fight shadow over it. sonic eventually decides to not get his revenge, and his resolve in his own character inspires shadow to help him stop Gerald’s plan of destroying the earth.

i think I’ll just break this into pros and cons

pros:

this was definitely better paced than the previous two movies. it felt a lot more like a sonic adventure

tails and knuckles have a meaningful role to play and aren’t completely shoved aside

i think they handled shadow vs sonic fights relatively well? im still not impressed by them not entirely being seen as equals but he’s not ridiculously overpowered, sonic manages to do a good job against him.

cons:

WAY TOO DIVERGENT FROM THE GAMES. they made so many unnecessary changes. shadow’s backstory is just an entirely different character

the gerald/eggman b-plot was actually unbearable. firstly i despise jim carrey as eggman so he was also never going to be good as gerald. it’s just slapstick everytime they’re on screen together and it’s SO dissonant to the shadow & sonic storyline it’s actually unbearable to watch.

incredibly stupid how they tied eggman to the major plot they very easily could have kept him releasing shadow

they just made no effort to explain anything about gerald. why is he still alive. how did he survive when maria didn’t. like if you’re going to change up your adapation you need to explain WHY and HOW this happened.

honestly im not super impressed with sonic’s revenge plot because shadow and sonic could have easily been tied together by the fact they both lost someone (maria and longclaw). i think it probably doesn’t help that i don’t like tom. also im not usually interested in revenge when the person isn’t even killed? tom still lives and isn’t even like…. permanently injured or something from shadow. so it looses its value to me in that way. i think sonic’s inability to work with a team also doesn’t make a whole lot of sense given sonic 2 and him working with maddie and Tom before. like i understand he has isolation issues but it’s been expressed that these movies have taken place over YEARS so this doesn’t feel like an entirely reasonable arc

all in all i think this is a 5/10. if i didn’t have any knowledge of sonic it could maybe be passable. but the gerald and eggman routine is genuinely unbearable when the movies tried to hit on some deeper levels and themes.

[after-the-end-times]

The Cats Have Taken the Wrapping Paper...and the Table

For @steddieholidaydrabbles Prompt: Alone 🐈‍⬛ Rating: G 🐈Words: 922 🐈‍⬛ cw: none 🐈 Tags: Established Relationship, Future AU, Takes place in the days between LotR:The Two Towers coming out Dec 18th 2002 and Christmas Eve, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, Shadowfax is my cat Ares, Ewok is our kitten Apollo (video of kitten shenanigans at end) Read on Ao3 Takes place in the same world as my December Microfic, Time for Us

“Welp, this isn’t working.”

Steve had one night to get all these gifts wrapped before the Christmas party the next day and the cats seemed determined to keep him from getting any wrapping done tonight.

Steve can’t believe he thought he had everything set to go earlier. It’s laughable really. He was so sure he’d whip this out with time to spare!

Right after Eddie had left for his monthly D&D night, Steve had cleared their dining room table of everything except rolls of wrapping paper, scotch tape, scissors, and sheets of sticker tags. He’d set the shopping bags of gifts within easy reach, piled against his feet under the table. And he’d switched the radio in the kitchen to a station playing nothing but Christmas music.

So much planning! Wasted!

And all because it seems like their new kitten, Ewok, has an obsession with paper! An obsession with biting paper and ripping paper and attacking it like it’s trying to get away. And, of course, where the kitten goes, so goes their older cat, Shadowfax. Because he can’t let the kitten do something fun and destructive while he just lays curled up behaving on a kitchen chair. That’d just be ridiculous, apparently.

Which means that an hour and a half into his Alone Night, Steve has exactly one gift actually wrapped. Eddie will be back in two hours and Steve’s starting to suspect he won’t be even close to being done.

It’s just as Shadow chases a scampering Ewok up a chair, across the table, and into the unrolled, ready-to-be-cut wrapping paper, that Steve realizes he has two options. One, surrender the table to the cats and go watch tv until Eddie returns and they take the table back together. Or two, lock the cats in the bedroom.

He knows locking them up would let him get everything done and he should go with option number two. But, he also knows they’ll cry at the door, meowing sad little meows, sticking their little paws under the door, pleading for Steve to release them. That is, until they go quiet and the sounds of little thuds start up, signaling their displeasure by knocking everything off the dresser and shelves. And he’s just not sure he can handle all of that tonight.

What he should’ve done was pack everything up and taken them all over to Robin’s, wrapped them there. Sure, he would’ve had to wait until the twins were in bed, but he’d at least be with other people. Not alone, all his plans being foiled by cats.

He’s about to admit defeat when an idea dings! above his head. He rips off the swath of paper that’s been shredded, finds a good sized cardboard box from the pile of recycling, grabs the tape, and walks to the living room, snagging the bag of treats on the way.

“All kitties better stay out of here! I’m doing something very important!” He calls out in a sing song, I’m-totally-not-tricking-you voice.

They immediately race him to the living room.

Shadowfax then unwittingly helps him by taking Ewok’s attention, the two running around the room play fighting. Steve watches them play for a moment: Shadow stands just out of reach of the kitten, Ewok leaps on him like velociraptor, wrapping his limbs around Shadow’s body, they roll around, Shadow gets the upper hand, dashes away, and they start again.

Sitting down on the couch, Steve puts his plan into action. He gently places a handful of treats into the box, fills the bottom with crumpled balls of paper, and tapes wrapping paper across the opening. For one last enticement, he tapes some of the thinner shreds to the sides to dangle down as a taunt to the kitten.

“Oh, no! I hope no one attacks this box to get all the treats inside!” He says, shaking the box lightly so they hear the treats rattle.

“Alrighty! I’m placing this very delicate package riiiight here and then I’m leaving it unprotected!” He sets the box near, but not under the Christmas tree in the corner; Somehow, it’s made it to nearly Christmas unscathed and he doesn’t want the kitten’s focus to waver from the box to the tree.

He pretends to go back to the couch until he sees Ewok’s attention get grabbed by the box, and then he slowly backs away, sneaking back to the dining room table.

Steve spends the next hour wrapping gifts to the dulcet sounds of Christmas music, paper tearing, and the dull thuds of the cats playing in the next room.

He’s sitting on the couch watching tv, cozied up under a fluffy blanket, one cat curled up on either side of him when Eddie returns later that night. Eddie walks over and picks up Shadowfax, stealing his spot while Steve holds up the blanket to drape over his lap. After years of living alone, even one night without each other feels like too long.

Steve sneaks his arm around Eddie’s waist, pulling him in tight. “Next year, we’re not leaving wrapping til the last second. The kittens almost took the dining table. I managed to rally. However, reinforcements would’ve made it a lot easier.”

Eddie chuckles at Steve’s dramatics, he does always love when Steve gets like this.

“Don’t worry, baby. I won’t let the kitties overrun you again.” Rubbing his cheek against Steve’s shoulder, he turns his gaze up at Steve, “Call for aid, Steve. And I will answer.”

And even without lighting any beacons, he always does.

~fin~

[A moment of what Steve was dealing with:]

[justawrites]

(Wip/Sketch) The Resurrection of a Heretic

You can definitely tell I got really tired after the first few pages but! It's done! Kinda! Pencil and paper sketch but it's done!

It's 3:30 AM so I really need to sleep, but tomorrow I'll add a read-more page by page transcription bc I know my handwriting isn't the easiest thing to read. Heavily recommend viewing in a new tab lol.

Had the Lamb chosen ANY other godless than Wren, and done it any earlier than before Narinder married them, Narinder would have been pissed about this. And unfortunately for Wren, being resurrected while being godless leaves its marks.

Anyway, Lamb stop breaking the laws of Faith for five seconds challenge, level impossible

Transcription below the cut

PAGE 1

Lamb: WREN! Hi! Wren: Hello, Lamb. Lamb, falling back into the water: Baa! Wren: Lamb!

PAGE 2

Wren: You are really bad at getting out of that pond... Lamb: It's the fleece. It's heavy when wet. Wren: Maybe you should forego it when visiting here? Lamb: And not look cool? No way! Wren: Almost drowning in a pool in the spectral plane does not sound very "cool," but to each their own...

PAGE 3 (timeskip, after unseen conversation in which Lamb suggests resurrecting Wren)

Wren: I... am not sure that is a good idea, Lamb. I have been dead for a hundred years now. I am not sure I know how to live anymore. Lamb: It'll be okay- Narinder and I will help you.

Lamb: Since you're not one of my followers, I need your actual body. Wren, as a ghost in the living world: My children will kill you if they see you digging up my grave. Lamb: Don't worry- it's handled!

Elloi (Narinder and Wren's middle daughter, all grown up): Not that we do not appreciate the visit, but our Father is visiting with you...? Kallamar: HAHA I missed my nieces, of course! Kallamar, thinking to himself: You owe me, Lamb! (A small text points to Kallamar, reading " "handling" it")

Wren: I am not sure our brother-in-law is up to that task. My girls are sharp. Lamb, offscreen: I have faith in him. Wren: At least one of us does.

PAGE 4

Wren: Also, uh- a hundred years? My body is nothing but bones and shrouds. Oh, and my death mask... Lamb: That's fine, as long as they're your bones, it will work. Wren: Should... I be worried? Lamb: No, no! I've tested it! Wren: Okay, I'm worried. Lamb: Hey!

Wren: Did you just shove my skeleton in your Crown? Lamb: Well I'm not about to walk out with it in my arms. Your daughters would try to kill me then...

Lamb: Think they'll notice the grave is disturbed? Wren: Minuit visits every morning, so yes. Lamb: Hm. So I should finish this before morning. Wren: If I come back as a zombie, I will bite you. Lamb: Promise? Wren: Lamb! Lamb: I'm kidding!

Lamb: I will miss being able to visit you on a whim, though. Wren: ...

Wren: Well, knowing you, me being alive again will not stop you... Lamb: True. You'll never escape me. We're like- spouse-in-laws or something! Wren: ... Not how it works, but yes, I suppose.

PAGE 5

Lamb: Kallamar is distracting your daughters, but the others should give me enough devotion for this- you know, being gods and Witnesses. Wren: I do not know, no. Lamb: Should I invite Nari? Wren: He will recognize a godless shroud. He might not let you go through with it, if he knows. Not to mention my mask... Lamb: Good point... I'm sure he won't mind if we surprise him!

Lamb: Wait, can you teleport? Wren: I am attached to you right now, so I will be dragged with you. Lamb: Cool....

Wren: I will admit, I will miss floating around like this. Lamb: You'd prefer to stay as a ghost? Wren: Now I did not say that.

Wren: It would take a stronger man than I to pass up the chance to touch their husband again...

Lamb: Oh, I see where your mind is~ Wren: Hold on- get your mind out of the ditch!

Wren: Thank you for not just dropping my skeleton. Lamb: Well, that would be rude. Wren: Kind of like shoving it in a bag... Lamb: It wasn't a bag!

Lamb: I need to put a mark on your skeleton... preferably somewhere subtle. It'll still be visible when you're alive again- any preference? Wren: Not really? Just do not be... weird about it. Lamb: Your hand, then.

PAGE 6

Wren: That is a strange symbol. What is it? Lamb: A modification of an immortality symbol. For my followers, it keeps them from aging- but this version helps me reverse your death. I think it helps meld the body and soul? It's very different from resurrecting my followers...

Lamb: Took me 50 years to think of this... It would not work before that. Wren: You... have been trying to revive me for 50 years?

Lamb: Oh- should I remove your mask? Wren: I would rather not see my own skull. Lamb: You'll be smelling whatever's inside when you wake up if I don't. Wren: ... Yes, remove it please.

Small text pointing to a cloaked Heket and Leshy reads "can't see or hear Wren."

Lamb: Okay! Ready! Wren, just float above your body! Leshy, Heket, Shamura- Witnesses, around the circle.

PAGE 7

Wren: Oh this is weird. Huh...

PAGE 8

Wren, thinking: What do I... do? This feels...

Wren, thinking: strange. Narinder, thinking: Where has everyone gone-?

Narinder: What. Is that Lamb doing now.

PAGE 9

Wren, thinking: It... worked. Wait, how do I breathe-

Shamura, offscreen: Relax.

Shamura: Your body will breathe on its own. Just relax. My siblings and I have been where you are.

Wren, breathing out: Thank you...

PAGE 10

Lamb: It worked! yes! How are you feeling?

Wren: Like I need a bath. Desperately.

Leshy: And clean clothes I bet. Lamb: Yeah, death shrouds a hundred years old is probably not a great feel...

Lamb: Come on- let's get you cleaned up. Wren: Okay... thank you.

text pointing to Wren reads "first bath in 100 years"

Lamb: Quick question- were you... wanting to keep this? Wren: My death shroud?? No?? It is a hundred years old and decaying... Lamb: Just making sure before I burn it.

Wren: I do want to keep the mask, though. Lamb: Got it. text pointing to the Lamb and the shroud reads "sets on fire"

text above the tub Wren is in reads "dunks head"

PAGE 11

Narinder: Lamb, I need to spea- Lamb: NARINDER!

Narinder: Gah! Lamb: Don't come in! You'll ruin the surprise! Narinder: Why are you short-?

Narinder, offscreen: Lamb! We are married! I have seen you naked before! We have bathed together!

Lamb, offscreen: Sorry, Nari- this is a surprise for you, so- please, just wait downstairs? Narinder: Would this have something to do with that ritual from earlier? Lamb: ... Maybe. Narinder: Fine, I will be downstairs. In the library.

Lamb: Hey, got you some robes- Wren: LAMB! Privacy!! Lamb: Relax, you've got nothing I haven't seen before. Wren: I DO NOT CARE- Lamb: You're gonna ruin your hair drying it like that-

PAGE 12

Wren: If you put your symbol on me I will hit you. Lamb: Too late, it's already on your hand. Wren: I meant that triangle thing, actually. Lamb: Oh- don't worry, the robe is symbol-free.

Wren: So this is permanent? Lamb: yeah, sorry- in all my experiments, removing it did... weird things. Wren: How did you "experiment," anyway? Lamb: Let's not talk about that...

Lamb: I think I liked what you wore in the After better. Wren: Mm, but that was a bit... gravity-defying. Lamb: Bet I could figure it out...

Wren: Being alive feels so weird... Lamb: yeah, I get it.

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Narinder: There you are, Lamb. Now, what did you-

Wren: Hello again, love.

Narinder: Wren...? How...? Wren: The Lamb is stubborn.

Narinder: You died... You are godless... The Lamb should not have been able to... Wren: They would not take that as an answer.

Wren: Besides, you have done the impossible before, too.

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Lamb: Soo you're not mad that I went behind your back to revive a godless person?

Text reads "Grabs"

Narinder: Do not ever do that again. ... But no. I am not mad. This time.

Lamb: Well, if Wren died again, I make no promises... but no one else. Not many ghosts with bodies still around, anyway...

Narinder: You are the most stubborn god I know. Thank you...

[eyebulb]

Hello! I have thoughts about Octavia! I know there will be hate for her.. but pls have mercy. This show is actually good at explaining people's actions.. so I'll try to walk you through her perspective the best I can. Picture if you will.. This child, who's father seems to be the most present if not the only present parent in this household. She relies a lot on him and is very close to him. The way Stella and Octavia acted this episode makes me feel like Stella isn't a fully active parent. She's there ofc and she takes care of Via but it seems like she's very shallow in her care for her. Not really learning anything about her or listening much to her as a person at all. Stella is not actively cruel to Via.. but she's not really putting in much effort. Meaning that most of Via's happy memories and parental feelings are towards her father. Who chose to take an active roll in raising her despite it not seeming to be the norm among royals. Said father wanted to protect her from the reality of their life. He made sure she wouldn't feel unloved, that she wouldn't get to see the ugly parts of their marriage and how she came to be. He also never let her know his struggles. This was all in good faith.. but made the inevitable blow that much harder for Via to process. Cus.. In the eyes of Via (because of Stolas shielding her) they used to have a happy family. Stolas and Stella used to be in love, enough to have her. Stolas then selfishly went after another dude.. cheated.. started ignoring her and landed himself in such deep shit that she could no longer reach him. All for some random imp who came in and ruined everything. Stolas cheating ruined the image of their happy family. It brought forth Stella's wrath and messed it all up. In defense of Stolas.. he is right to chase his own happiness and wanting to be happy.. but he did it in a very messy way. And it messed a lot of things up. Now she's finding out all the ugly truths about her upbringing but in the middle of chaos.. and not in a calm setting where they can sit down and talk it out. She's already upset.. She loves her father and now she's alone with her mother because of a decision he made.. after he said that this situation wouldn't ever happen. On top of that she's finding out that he needed pills to keep going.. that he was miserable all along. The circumstances in which she finds this out plays a part in her ability to handle it. I have no doubt Via will eventually reach an understanding with Stolas. But I fully understand that she is not yet ready for it. She's trying to deal with losing her safe spot. Let her deal.

[burr-ell]

If it's alright, can I ask why you like the Golden Deer house more than the Blue Lions or Black Eagle houses? Like, what caught your eye about them over everyone else?

So I actually got into FE3H through a friend of mine, @dar-draws, who I already knew through mutual good taste (Dickkory), and fanarts like this one, this one, and this one plus the way she talked about Claude and Claudeleth caught my attention. I watched a couple playthroughs of the Golden Deer route on YouTube and absolutely fell in love (before finally getting a switch just to play it myself, for which I was violently bullied here). So like, I was already going into the game biased, which is part of why when I got it I went ahead and played through Golden Deer before doing all the other routes in turn; it was genuinely important to me to personally see all sides of the story. But even as I've played the other routes and replayed SS and AM and gained even more of an appreciation for them, I'm still always sort of drawn back to VW and the Deer.

I think it's ultimately vibes-based, but I'll try to articulate it. I'm not really a big fan of "cozy" sorts of games—I've played and enjoyed ACNH, but the things I most enjoyed about that game were finding things to do and goals to complete, like completing the main quest line or filling up the museum. So it's not so much that I find the Golden Deer to be cozy so much as adventurous. They're not inherently personally invested in the conflicts of White Clouds (they don't know Lord Lonato or Miklan, and their house leader isn't [gestures generally]), but they're also not just ping-ponging through the story. They go through the same events as the other two houses, but they're coming at it from more of an outsider's perspective, and their choice to get involved and react and respond feels more active.

The Deer also don't have any real reason to follow Claude, either, and in the early game they make sure he knows it; none of them are really all that concerned that they're speaking to the future Grand Duke of their country. Lysithea snaps at him, Leonie shoots the breeze with him, Raphael is jovial with him, Lorenz undercuts him, Hilda is blase with him, Marianne tries not to talk to him, and Ignatz gets into theological debates with him. Over the course of the game, they develop the same loyalty to Claude that the other house members already have for their leaders almost by default, and it feels a lot more earned because we see it happen. And that in turn makes scenes like the one at Myrddin, where Claude reveals his true goal of opening the border with Almyra and embracing foreign cultures and the other Deer are surprised but trust Claude and follow his lead, that much more satisfying.

I was a little surprised, when I played through the other three routes, that aside from the designated talking-with-the-cast scenes every route gets, the characters who aren't house leaders or retainers don't really have all that much to do in the story. On Verdant Wind, you pretty consistently have members of the Golden Deer appearing in other cutscenes and giving their two cents; there's even a unique scene where Lysithea realizes there's something up with the Empire's mages because of her backstory and approaches Claude and Byleth about it. It's nothing too obtrusive—they do still have to accommodate the potential for character death—but it's those small details that make a difference to me. Every house has a particular dynamic with odd silly quirks, but the Deer being just that little bit more integrated into the story really helps sell the idea that they belong here and they're making this story their own.

There's also the matter of where specifically their adventure takes them. I respect the choice to focus on Dimitri in Azure Moon, because it does handle his character and arc very well and I think also does the other Lions justice (with the exception of Dedue), but it's also focused largely on Dimitri's personal arc and the Tragedy of Duscur and doesn't really follow through on a lot of the events of White Clouds. (Which some Blue Lions stans have been okay with because they think the Agarthans are bad villains, which...that's valid, but stories still have to like, address plot elements they set up.) Verdant Wind, by contrast, does actually pull back and try to figure out the real impetus behind the whole conflict, and it ends with them beginning to properly lay Fodlan's true problems to rest.

So while the route isn't flawless and I do think there are issues with how characters are written that are part of larger trends within the game and the series as a whole, there's a very specific kind of fantasy adventure energy with the Golden Deer that I enjoy. I think the stories I'm most drawn to are the ones that keep their eyes on a specific goal but still make you feel like the characters would bring that same energy to goofing around with each other, and I think that's something Verdant Wind does very well.