#hope you all enjoy !!!

[magiciian]

The ler is leaking out of me!

Fantasy of mine Being able to sit my ass on someone s face and tickle them silly 😩 Bounded to the bed.

I carefully place my ass onto your face

“Is this okay? Are you alright? Say mm one time for yes and mm two times for no.” 

“Mm” is said one time. Okay, great to know! Let’s hear that magical laughter of yours 🤭 

I start to examine your lovely body with my long gold fingernails. Going up and down your stomach, arms, and thighs. Give you some gentle squeezes here and there 

Thank you so much for letting me sit on your face and tickle you today! I’m so honored 🙂‍↕️ 

Please raise your feet towards me. Such a great listener! Let me do a little test tickle 😙 slowly drag one of my nails across your left sole. It wiggles a bit 

Is someone a bit ticklish? I only use one finger, but what if I added four more?🤭😏 I flutter all five of my fingers up and down your left foot. You start a giggle fit and wiggle around. 

Awww, my goodness! You’re moving around so much already, and we just got started!

I get my ass off your face to check on you. Are you doing alright? You say yes, so we continue. 

I move to your right foot. I am fluttering my other five fingers onto it. Ahhh, tickle, tickle, tickle! Come on, giggle for me, honey bun! 

Your muffled laughter gets a bit louder 

There we go! Good job for the laughs! 

Alright, I’m done with the feet 😙Let’s go to that cute tummy of yours 😏

Gets my ass off your face. Are you still doing okay, honey bun? You tell me, yes, so we continue this magic show! 

I glide my nails up and down your sides. 

If I place all ten of my tickly fingers on the center of your stomach - would you wiggle to the left, wiggle to the right, or try to stay still to put up a fight? I wonder …. 

Let’s start with one from each hand, then 2, and then slowly add a finger to each hand. 

4…..fluttery fingers on that tummy 

6…fingers and now your laugh is getting a bit louder

.8… do I hear a belly laugh trying to come out? 

.10 There’s that beautiful laughter!! Please give it to me 😍 As you’re wiggling all over the place 🥰 

Who has such a ticklish tummy? Huh? * you’re just squeaking away with giggles• If you want me to stop, you must answer! I say, still tickling with ten fingers and riding along with your contagious laughter! 

You respond the best you can with my ass in your face. Ah, such a sweet baby. I'm so proud of you for getting that out! 

Place a kiss on your stomach 💋 

Thank you for your laughter 

I say while rising off your face again. Are you still doing okay, sweetie pie? 

You tell me yes, and I reply, 

How about these arms and armpits? 

You quickly protest, but I cut it off by muffling it with my ass! 

I take both hands, one on your right and the other on your left arm. With my nails, I slowly flutter them up and down into your armpits. Fingers are making an open and close motion in your pits. 

Awww, did you know you’re my stress reliever right now? Like my little stress ball, EXECPT sounds of laughter come out, and then I feel so so so so good! 

I go faster; you start bucking as much as you can! 

Ooooo I love this ride! Even faster, but I have one hand in your pit and one on your stomach! 

Your laughs get as loud as they can! 

Mmmmm, keep laughing for me, please 

It fuels my magical powers! 

I lift my butt off your face to hear your sweet sounds unmuffled. Then I sit back in it again, lift, and repeat. 

While this is happening, I’m also switching from my left hand tickling your left pit and my right hand on your right side To my right hand tickling your right pit and my left on your left side. 

I keep switching it up 

Okay, okay, I say 

As I tone down my tickling. I start to massage your arms and stomach. You’re just a giggly mess! I finally get off your face and trail kisses across your body, still massaging your sweaty body. 

Thank you for letting me play with you! 

[mrsaltieri-real]

Like a Virgin pt3 (Virgin!Ethan Landry x Fem!AFAB!Reader)

Warnings/s: 18+, smut, p in v, langauge, riding, first time, degradation, established degradation kink, premature ejaculation, praise kink, oral, (fem receiving) squirting, face fucking, (Ethan’s a needy, greedy little fucker whose found a love in eating pussy)dom!reader, basically pure filth, brief mention of Richie’s death and his father snapping, etc

Length: 2.5k

Here’s the third and final part of this little series. I had a lot of fun writing this part. A. Lot. Probably the smuttiest thing I’ve ever fucking wrote and I had a lot of fun with it. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you again for this request, anon!

Read part 1 HERE

Read part 2 HERE

Ethan couldn’t believe this was really happening. The last few years of his life were filled with nothing but pain and carnage. The grieving of his brother, his father snapping after the fact…

He knew why he was here, in the apartment you shared with Tara, Sam and unbeknownst to them, his sister. But in this moment, gazing up at your gorgeous face in awe as you gently rolled your hips across his slowly swelling cock, the feeling of your soft hands resting on his shoulders with your fingernails lightly digging into his creamy skin, all of that abandoned his mind completely. He just wanted to focus on you.

He felt anxious as he lifted his trembling hands to hesitantly rest them on your hips, feeling the tight arousal begin to slowly build up inside of him for the second time tonight. A small part of his brain was surprised that he was able to get hard again as his cock began to swell. Maybe you just had this kind of effect on him.

He’d wanted you for as long as he’d known you, craved you even. He’d been completely oblivious to the lingering looks and lustful gazes you had in turn been sending his way these last couple of weeks, although you had of course noticed his. Ethan was a lot of things but subtle was absolutely not one of them.

The feeling of your increasingly wet pussy sliding over him was already becoming almost too much for him to handle. You watched as his expression turned into one of pure concentration as his blunt fingernails dug into the soft skin of your hips and you let out a small laugh.

“You can’t cum just yet, you know? I’m not even fucking you.”

“I know.” He huffed a little, his voice strained. “It just feels really good.”

You smiled down at him, one hand moving from his chest as you lifted your hips, reaching between the two of you to grasp his cock in your hand, slowly guiding it to the entrance of your soaked hole. He let out a small whimper as he felt his tip gently rest just inside of you and your hand moved back to his chest, still hovering just above him.

“You ready?” You asked softly.

He wanted to move so badly, feel you envelop him entirely, squeezing and milking him. He had to stop himself, a sheen of sweat from the unbridled concentration beginning to form on his forehead and chest.

“Yes! Yes, just… please?” He spoke softly, utterly beautiful and almost already a complete mess.

“Please what?”

“Please take me.” He blurted out, unable to disguise his desperate need “Please take me.”

For some reason, him saying this made you let out a small groan, looking down at him with a deep want as you slowly, deliberately rolled your hips, sighing at the satisfying stretch as he slowly began to fill you. You watched his face all the while, his eyes fluttering and starting to roll back as his hands gripped your hips even tighter.

You are a dominating person, especially when it comes to sex. But this was Ethan’s first time and honestly, you didn’t want to overwhelm him. Not just yet, anyway. As you adjusted to him, you rocked your hips, sinking down onto him completely and making him let out a small, surprised gasp in the process as he felt your heat completely cover him

“Fuck,” you moaned gently, leaning back on top of him so he could see his cock buried inside of you.

Ethan’s eyes were now set on the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen; him completely engulfed by you. He stared, mouth slack as you began to grind and roll your hips, watching as his dick slid inside of your cunt with hungry eyes. “How’s it- fuck. How’s it feel?“ you asked, looking down at him with a small smirk.

“Oh- oh my god.” He was so sweetly hypnotised at the sight before him, feeling every part of your hot, wet cunt with his dick. It was almost too much.

“Look at me.” You demanded, leaning forward again to grip his hair between your fingers so he was forced to look at your face. As you did so, he felt your hard nipples graze over his and he shivered a little. “Tell me how it feels.”

“I- I can’t explain.” He gasped quickly, tensing up as he felt you very deliberately squeeze around him.

“Be a good boy and try. You’re my good boy, aren’t you Ethan?” Your face was inches away from his, one hand still gripping his hair and the other slowly moved between you and started circling your clit gently, applying the pressure that would make you squeeze him in just the way you knew he’d love. He let out a loud whimper at your praise and the tight, warm feeling, brown eyes huge and desperate.

“Yes, yes I’m your good boy, I promise.” He whispered shakily.

“Then tell me-“ another sharp grind of your ass made him almost begin to sob there and then. “- how it fucking feels.”

“Feels fucking amazing. You’re so tight. Squeezing me. I can’t- fuck-“ his voice was shaking and trailed off and you watched as his eyes screwed up and his hips thrust up into you, making you gasp and let out a surprised moan as he brushed that little spot deep inside of you with his tip. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have moved, I’m sorry, I just- god, I just-“ he began apologising, fast and rambling with his voice rising and falling with every collapse of your hips as he opened his eyes and tears from the stimulation began to spill down his cheeks. You let out a breathless laugh, moving to place your hand over his mouth.

“It’s okay, baby. You want me to stop?“

His voice was loud but muffled as he practically yelled, “No, no, please no!” from behind your hand, his desperation for you only turning you on even more.

“Look at you.” You almost scoffed a little, moving your hands from his mouth to wipe the pathetic tears that stained his cheeks. “You’re fucking crying? So needy, so pathetic.” You laughed down at him, sighing as your head fell back whilst you continued to bounce on top of him, clenching and unclenching your pussy with every fall. Some part of Ethan was surprised he enjoyed you calling him pathetic, the words only making him throb inside of you desperately.

You felt him twitch, laughing to yourself breathlessly and shaking your head at him. “You’re not to fucking cum, not yet. Understand?“ the pathetic whimper that fell from him as he looked up at you pleadingly was endearing as fuck and it made the feeling of your impending orgasm loom even closer.

“Understand?” You said again, more firmly this time and he bobbed his head a little, the series of broken whimpers still falling from his plump lips. “You’re not cumming until I do.” You told him. “Now, I want you to match me, okay?” He blinked a little, streaming eyes falling down to watch how you rolled your hips and he let out a soft huff as he, much more tentatively this time, bucked his hips up as yours came down. He felt proud of the intense moans that came out of you and he continued to thrust into you, feeling himself press into something hard that resulted in you letting out a loud, almost pornograpgic groan, feeling yourself clench around him even harder, your fingers still desperately rubbing at your clit. This ended up being the result of him uncontrollably beginning to twitch inside of you.

“Oh god… oh GOD.” His head fell back into the pillow as he began to unload inside of you, a series of downright delicious whimpers and moans falling out of him as he coated your walls. He trembled as a loud sob escaped his lips at the feeling of your cunt milking him, writhing as his hips stuttered and his eyes rolled back into his head.

“Oh, I’m sorry? Did I say you could cum?” You asked him. In all honesty, you weren’t at all mad. Seeing him like this, his curls sticking to his forehead from the sweat and his face twisted and him crying in pleasure was all the satisfaction you needed.

“I’m sorry.” He said in a small, slurred voice, his chest heaving as he gradually stopped twitching and writhing from under you, his cock slowly began to soften inside of you and throbbing dully. He suddenly blinked, realising what he’d done. “Oh.. you didn’t.. oh, fuck.” He felt angry at himself for not obeying you, not making you cum with his cock, but that was somewhat filtered out by the intense pleasure he was also feeling from his first time being that damn good.

“It’s alright, honey. Next time.” You lightly patted his cheek before climbing off of him and standing up, hearing him wince as his raw cock slid out of your dripping hole.

“No, no.” You could hear the frown in his voice and you turned down to face him, seeing him practically scramble across the bed to fall to his knees in front of you.

“What are you-“

“Let me?” He asked, eyes pleading as they flickered up to your face and to your leaking cunt, marvelling as he saw his cum spilling out of you. “Please let me?”

“I don’t know..” you sighed, raising an eyebrow down at him. “You didn’t listen to me when I told you not to cum. Why should I let you do this when you clearly want it so badly?”

“Please?” He begged again, eyes incapable of looking at anything else other than your pussy. “I can apologise better this way. Let me?”

You couldn’t help but smile down at him fondly.

“So fucking desperate, aren’t you? Wanting to eat your cum out of me and get me off.” He licked his lips a little, waiting almost impatiently for you to give him the go ahead.

“Fine then, get me off.”

He didn’t need anything more. His mouth latched eagerly to your swollen clit, almost making you fall backward. You gripped his shoulder for balance as he eagerly licked and sucked at your clit, cradling it between his soft lips. “Fuck, baby.” You sighed, lifting your leg and resting it over his shoulder so you could rest your hands in his hair, pushing his face against your cunt. His hands slid up your legs to grip your ass, holding him as close to you as possible as his tongue moved from your clit to delve into your hole that was stuffed with his cum. He moaned against you, tasting the mixture of both of your arousal on his tongue as he hungrily curled his tongue inside of you, looking up at your face to ensure it was okay.

“Mmm- fuckkkkk.” You moaned out, head falling back. Now he was past the shy, awkward stage and was now intensely eager and more confident in eating you out, the feeling was almost indescribable. His tongue was soft and velvety as you rocked your hips on his face yet again, his nose softly bumping against your clit. “Fucking filthy boy.” You murmured, fingers twisting in his hair as your head fell forward to look down at him. “Eating me so good, aren’t you baby? Making me feel fucking amazing.” He huffed eagerly against your cunt at your praise, moaning loudly against you as you began to grind your hips faster. “Use your fingers and rub my clit.” You instructed, feeling the coil inside of you close to snapping.

He moved his hand from your ass to do just that, his fingers sloppily running over your swollen bundle of nerves. This tipped you over the edge, your fingers yanking at his hair as you panted and moaned, uncontrollably grinding your pussy all over his face. He tried to keep up with the movements, not wanting to miss out on even a drop of your sweet juices as you let out a sound not even you had heard before and began twitching and writhing above him. Your sudden unexpected movements startled him a little and he began to move back from your pussy, eyes almost alarmed.

“Don’t stop, don’t you fucking dare stop.” You almost shouted, grabbing the back of his head and forcing his face back to your quivering cunt. He obliged, attaching his lips to your clit once again and sucking nice and hard, humming softly against you and sending vibrations through your core.

“Oh, fuck baby, fuck yes.” You cried out, legs trembling as you not only came practically sobbing Ethan’s name as you rode and fucked his pretty face, but did something that had never happened before. You weren’t sure if it was because he was genuinely good, or the fact it was the knowledge that the guy hungrily sucking at your clit was Ethan, but something inside you snapped and you began squirting against his mouth as your whole body convulsed, a series of loud and unfiltered cries of pure ecstasy falling through your lips.

Ethan greedily lapped up your spraying juices, eyes still wide in surprise as he felt and swallowed how much came out of you.

You were shaking and still twitching as Ethan finished licking happily until you were clean and finished, smiling proudly in front of you as your leg dropped from his shoulder and you stumbled a little to sit on your bed.

“Jesus.” You sighed out, body still trembling uncontrollably.

“Are you okay?” His proud expression suddenly switched up to concern as he shuffled closer to you on his knees, resting a large hand on your shaking knee. “Oh, god did I hurt you? Was I not supposed to-“

“Shh, baby.” You said softly, smiling weakly and resting a shaky hand on his cheek. He leaned into it happily, his eyes closing at your touch. “I’m fine. I’ve just… never cum like that before.”

“Really?” He looked almost smug and you let out a small breathless laugh.

“Yeah, really. Don’t look like that.” You scolded him playfully before falling back onto your bed, trying to steady your breathing.

You felt the bed dip and then watched him as he laid down next to you, looking at your face all the while. You chuckled a little, lifting your hand to gently wipe your leftover arousal and his dried up tears from his chin and cheeks.

“Are you okay? This being your first time and all?”

“Oh, are you kidding?” The smile that broke across his face was infectious. “That was..wow. I don’t even think I can explain it.” His eyes were still huge and wild, glinting in the dim light. You rolled over so you were on your stomach, leaning over him to kiss him gently on his swollen lips. “You’re a good teacher.” He said as you pulled away a little to look at him.

“You’re a good student. Very obedient.” Your tone was approving and it made him grin happily.

“I liked doing what you told me.” He admitted almost shyly. “And I liked other stuff too.”

“What other stuff?” You pressed him, suddenly curious.

“Like when you uh…” he trailed off, shaking his head a little. “No, it doesn’t matter.”

“Come on,” you cupped his cheek in your hand, pulling his face back to look at you. “I’m not gonna judge you, what did you like?”

Ethan sighed a little. He couldn’t say no to you anymore, it just wasn’t possible.

“When you said I was… needy.” He spoke in a small hesitant voice. “… and pathetic.”

You raised your eyebrows at him a little, feeling oddly charmed by his little confession. “You liked that, hm?”

He nodded shyly, eyes still looking into yours. “More than I thought I would.”

“Well,” you said thoughtfully. “Maybe next time we can see what else you like.”

[same-name-supremacy]

POV: You are Chris

Yep! A redraw of one of my older Total Drama drawings! I hope you all enjoy!!

[whatthefuckisasweep]

i wish to repair the fandom trauma we have with baths and stan. what if he had a rather… really nice one? :,)

[sampies-stuff]

“𝖂𝒽𝖆𝓉 𝒾𝖘 𝖎𝓉 𝓉𝖍ℴ𝖚𝓈𝖙 𝖘ℯ𝖊?... 𝕲𝒶𝖟ℯ 𝒾𝖓𝓉𝖔....𝓂𝖎𝓃𝖊 𝖈𝓇𝖎𝓂𝖘ℴ𝖓 𝖒𝒾𝖆𝓈𝖒𝒶.”

[ooachilliaoo]

Mars

Their battlefield rhythm was all wrong.

He felt it in every step they took on Mars, in every word, in the tight, clipped, tone of her voice, and in the way that she never quite met his eyes. He felt it in the fact that almost everything she said was an order, and in the absence of their usual banter. He felt it in the way that she had to explicitly state every formation, every movement, in that by-the-book way used by all marines, and finally, he felt it deep in the core of his being.

It was wrong, all so wrong.

He knew it was a defence mechanism, this distance between them. Her defence mechanism. What he didn’t know was what she was defending against.

It could just be because of Earth, but it could also be because she didn’t trust him, or wasn’t sure if he trusted her. It could be because she didn’t want to risk bringing up the past in front of James. It could be any number of things. Once upon a time, he would have been able to look at the set of her shoulders and know.

The fact that he couldn’t anymore was tearing him apart…

And then there was Cerberus.

Here. On Mars.

She said that she didn’t know why, but Anderson’s warning was ringing in his head, and somehow he couldn’t bring himself to trust that she didn’t know why.

Besides, if she wanted to be all business, then he could do the same. He was supposed to be doing the same. This was, after all, his job and the war was too important for him not to do it properly. At least, that was what he told himself as he demanded a straight answer from her. But maybe what he’d really been looking for was a glimpse of the old Shepard. The one he had loved.

He saw her later, his Shepard, when she smiled at Liara. Not him. Liara. It was Liara who made her shoulders relax. Liara who was forgiven for not visiting with a shrug and a smile.

He hated that she wasn’t that Shepard around him anymore, and yet he was glad, because the difference made his suspicions easier to justify.

Read the rest on AO3

[itsybitsylemonsqueezy]

Wow, my Baldur's Gate 3 post blew up somewhat... nice. Well, time for more headcanons, of the unapologetically horny variety. (Yes, yes, I know everyone and their mother has done this already, well here's mine. Nyeh.)

Including: Astarion, The Emperor, Gale, Halsin, Jaheira, Karlach, Lae'zel, Raphael, Shadowheart, Wyll, and Zevlor

Tumblr is run by unfun prudes who would like my 30-year-old thoughts to remain Chaste and Pristine™ so filth under the cut until they ban me or whatever

Astarion

So the truly hilarious thing about Astarion is that he claims to be a pillow princess, but is almost always a dom. Like, I find it very funny that he enjoys the Aesthetics™ of being a spoiled brat, too delicate and pampered to lift a finger, but in reality, he's a bit of a work horse who finds having nothing to do dull as rocks.

Not to say that he doesn't enjoy receiving, I fully believe he does, but I think it's mostly relaxing at best and dissociative at worst. We'll assume though he's with a trusted partner for now though, rather than deal with the Hang Ups. I think inevitably he'd eventually roll over and change positions and end up in charge. I think it's an undeniable itch for him, even when he's being treated very well. There's just something so enthralling and exciting about being in control and playing with someone. It gives him a satisfying challenge the way being a pillow princess doesn't.

I think sex is particularly about aesthetics for Astarion as well. Bondage, costume, the art and immersion of it would be appealing. Role play would naturally extend out of this, especially as a safe outlet for some of his more complicated feelings. Succeeding at multiple layers of social interaction and intimacy would be extremely rewarding for him, I think.

He's also a very giving lover. I'm not sure praise would quite do it for him, that's not exactly his build. The submission though... oh yes, that does wonders. And he's very keen to reward that submission with nice things, sweet things, unbearably sweet, more than you can take... that's the kind of torture he's into, whining, begging, pleading, from the too muchness of it all, from how good he's being to you... mmm, yes, that's the stuff. It's soothing to understand you can be in control and not hurt people, to know that the control is not corruptive, not a bad thing in itself. I think it'd do a lot for his confidence and self-image.

Also, very into feeding as a sexual thing. He is a hedonist after all, more pleasure is more pleasure.

(The) Emperor

Hey, haters to the left, please. We believe in free love here and that includes the tentacle-y kind.

Look, okay, the dude comes on... strong. Too strong, to be honest. A little overly possessive, overly needy, but there is a hot, sweet core in there. And with a little patience, time, and reassurance, that can be honed into a respectful balance. If you can be patient and take your time, you can help him understand that he doesn't need to be in your every thought or be constantly touching to still have a deep bond. Do gotta watch those tendencies though.

That said, tentacles are a gift! Strong, dexterous, perfect for holding, squeezing, manipulating, and of course, inserting. It's hard to imagine a more intuitive metaphor for desire than tentacles, constantly grasping as they are. And boy, the Emperor wants. Also potentially has some experience using these, probably has a fair idea of how to make this good for both of you, so a pretty good bonus there.

While the Emperor tends to think he knows best and never enters anything without a plan, I think he'd be willing to take instruction. Your pleasure would be a point of pride so if something could be going better, I think he'd listen. Communication reaffirms trust after all. It's no dishonor to be spoken to or even commanded.

Honestly not sure illithid experience pleasure outside of making you orgasm and just like voyeuring or skimming the pleasure off your brain, so it's probably all about you here. Which also means we're probably not looking at marathon sessions; it'll be just the right amount of attention to a big, satisfying orgasm and then warm, languid rest. But the trick is, you're not going to get any gentle, casual encounters. His focus is unparalleled so it's very hard to back off of 100. That's fun, but can be exhausting, especially if you like a bit of variety.

Gale

Sometimes it's hard to see what Mystra saw in Gale; other times it's blinding. He's the most self-congratulating, infuriating, annoying bastard you know and he's also, somehow, perfect. What the fuck. The basic problem with Gale is that he'll tell you, to your face, that he fucked a goddess and when and where and how and the worst thing of all is he's not lying; he's actually good.

Gale has the enviable qualities of simultaneously being very laid back and very enthusiastic. He's happy with whatever position you suggest and is just thrilled to be invited. Throws himself into whatever's on the table.

Not to say that he doesn't have ideas, god, but he never shuts up about his ideas. And they're all, frustratingly, really good ideas too! "Oh, well I thought since we're in the hot tub, a little ice in my fingertips might be electrifying." "Have you considered the effects of shifting local gravity so you could ride me longer?" "I've taken the liberty of enchanting your dildo so you can feel it when you peg me!" God, don't you just hate him for being right all the time?

And to make matters worse, the stupid prick is full of wondering adoration for you, always trying to give you the best time possible, the best time ever. And he cares So Much he even notices if The Most Sensations Ever isn't the right thing right now and adjusts. He's just as happy to sit and cuddle or read next to each other. Ugh, disgusting. It's like someone made him in the Best Lover Conceivable factory and blew the whole budget on just him! Like, why Mystra gotta ruin the dating scene like that?!

Trouble is, he's obsessively good at doing exactly what you want because he was groomed by a goddess so... 😬 Sometimes you have to remind him he's enough. Sometimes you have to let him know that he isn't as good as what he could do for others, that he was already good, just on his own. Sometimes you gotta take care of him because he won't remember and he won't realize. And he might pout and object, but he deserves a good time too. Not that he wasn't having a good time but... you know what I mean. Let him be the focus.

Gale's very into attention and a slow, sweet time. Work him up painstakingly, bring him to the edge of begging, tell him what a good boy he is. He'll be crying with pleasure. Don't let him rush, rushing is a cheap shortcut and it means he doesn't have to endure being adored just as much as he adores you. It's the only time he'll ever be shy, having to accept love. But this should also, of course, always be paired with letting him reciprocate. One-sided affection or interaction would be torture for the poor boy. He wants so badly to be good, but gotta temper that a bit with reminding him he already is.

Halsin

Oakfather giving Mystra a run for her mother for "ruining the dating scene" with this one. Only The Oakfather went "thicc whores only" and the world cried amen for we were blessed.

What can we say about this polyamorous icon that hasn't already been said? Well, perhaps counter to some above examples, Halsin blessedly doesn't have to be at 110% all the time. Having a soft time is just as good as a rough ride. Although... we all know you're getting more of the latter on average, right?

The nice thing about Halsin is you don't have to worry about him denying himself or doing things just because he thinks you want them; he's a master of balance. He absolutely has his own personal, selfish desires and he knows how to serve them in turn. There's something refreshingly organic about Halsin's attraction, he's into you for perceptible maybe even measurable reasons, you don't have to worry about what's going on in that beautiful head of his so much.

A lot of energy in this one though, gotta be aware of that appetite. But hey, if you're into Halsin, you're probably open to maybe a couple more partners, together or separately. Halsin is certainly down for all of those combos.

Very generous lover, not satisfied until you say so. Down for any length of time, any position, but he strikes me as a man who's not into a lot of frills. Sex is about the physical pleasure, those animalistic instincts, and the kinetic energy between people being used and blended to create something more, something almost beyond us. A lot of artifice and dressing up wouldn't make a lot of sense to him and he's not likely to get much out of it. Don't think he'd yuck your yum, but unlikely to participate himself.

Might even prefer multiple partners at once and the longer the session the better. Short sessions are possible, but he's not going to enjoy it as much unless he can get really into the rhythm of it. Again, it's about balancing the energy, which often involves a bit of warm up and getting into the groove to truly satisfy. If one partner, high energy is best if possible. Come in with some goals in mind or you might get overwhelmed. Wouldn't be surprised if sometimes Halsin doesn't come at all due to his unreal stamina and thresholds.

Can't think of a better teacher to help you try something new though. Patient, kind, thoughtful with feedback from long experience. And he's incredibly appreciative of the unique skills every person has, the things only they bring are always valuable to him, something to be cherished and enjoyed. One of the few people who can be instructive, encouraging, and erotic all at the same time. It's a rare breed.

Jaheira

I'd let Mama Harper boss me around any day. And she is decidedly the boss, she's been giving orders since before I was born and that isn't about to change. Strong dom MILF energy here. And she definitely knows what she wants so those orders are going to be clear and consistent.

I don't think the strap is her preference, but I don't think she'd be opposed. But as another druid, I think she likes to go in bare handed, as it were. And, to be fair, she doesn't need help, I've seen those hands work a lash. She's strong and flexible, whatever you ask for she can give. She seems to have less in the raw energy department than Halsin, but I'll chalk that up to not being chief. I think it would take awhile to wear her down though, can't take her for fast or easy. Just like Halsin, I bet she prefers longer sessions to shorter, but would probably be a bit more flexible on this.

I think her real specialty is probably ropes, any kind of bondage. And she seems keen to teach the uninitiated, to make it not scary and safe. Her argument being the restraint in and of itself heightens the pleasure, why not try it? Not a bad argument.

She also probably enjoys herself most getting a work out in. She can be gentle for you, but her own pleasure is found in conquering, mastering. A test of strength or wills would probably be called for here. Tbh, I can't imagine her being that interested until you can prove you're a match for her in some way. Not terribly interested in coddling.

Karlach

Oh, a goddess among mere mortals. Those tits, that ass! She could break me in half and I would thank her, crying tears of joy. Karlach deserves every happiness on earth. Karlach is maybe the most enthusiastic person here, and that's saying something. The feeling of being close to others, but specifically sex, is such an important love language to Karlach. She has high physical needs and so is very excited and very determined to make you have as good a time as she is having. Unfortunately, sometimes this has a spiraling effect that results in questions like "how many orgasms is too many orgasms?" She just gets carried away, poor thing. But, nonetheless, as addictive as a good time is, you'll probably run out of stamina before she does. Though I bet she'd still keep going past the point of discomfort for herself, just because she's so excited and in love and bursting with joy and energy. It's hard to stop when there's so much you want to say and do and experience. Especially after being restrained so long.

On that topic, bondage probably not a good fit here. Anything that prevents touch for her is not really going to be her thing.

On the flip side, there is no such thing as too much, too hard, too long. I cannot imagine someone more eager to gobble you up, to taste you everywhere, to squeeze you close and shudder and gasp until your sweat smells the same. Like... she is here for this, she is into it. And she'll intuitively go for whatever is going to be more tactile, more of your touch and your body on hers. But also more scent, more excitement. She's going to respond like lightning to any little squeak or shiver to get any reaction out of you. She's so hungry for it.

And she's had a lot of time to think of ideas so you won't run dry on creativity for a good long while. Also important to note, she's only going to be a fast draw in the early days when everything is so urgent. She will slow down in time, though I think she'll end up running faster and hotter than most here. Her appetite is strong, but her stamina is actually on the low side. So more orgasms, but less space between them. Over stimulation is going to be huge here.

Not sure she has the patience for role play or anything fancy. This is not to say she isn't vocal she is... very vocal. Constantly. But that's quite affirming. And I think she'd be pretty into displays, perhaps even a bit of exhibitionism. After all, voyeurism/exhibitionism is all she had for awhile, so I suspect that would carry over into now. I think in particular she'd like to show you off, since she has a keen understanding of the eroticism of visuals. Not everyone's cup of tea of course, and she doesn't have to, but she just gets excited and proud. This makes her feel so good she can't help wanting to shout about it.

All of this said, she's also probably the most attentive in safety and aftercare. Halsin is a safety nut as well, but Karlach absolutely dotes. She wants to make sure she didn't hurt you or wear you out in any way and so will make extra, extra sure any little need is taken care of.

Lae'zel

Lae'zel's pussy could kill a man, in fact, it probably has. Not the most romantic of our choices, at least at first, but vigorous, satisfying, honestly intimidating. But, sex is very accessible with Lae'zel. Sex is part of communion for her, but in a different way than Halsin. It's exercise and contest and entertainment and group cohesion all in one. For these reasons, she's not as intimidating as you'd expect because just you saying yes to her pleases her. If she's invited you, that means she's already judged you worthy. She's not going to be upset when giving pointers because she has no hang ups about how sex is supposed to work. She doesn't expect you to read her mind and would probably be mad if you tried. Clear communication is part of this and you already earned the trust for it.

And on the flip side, she will not be distressed by you stating your desires because she's also not trying to read your mind. She wants you to trust her enough to say what you want. Honestly, she's probably a good starting place for virgins, her openness would be soothing. She might even have the patience to instruct, though she's not a terribly patient woman in general.

Also, not to bury it, Lae'zel just likes sex, the sweat, the scents, the weird, sticky feelings of it, the shivering glow through the body. Sex is fun for her and that's obvious in her vocalizations, both articulated words and not. And she knows that the more times you have sex with the same partner, the easier it gets, the more enjoyable it is. I think she'd like watching that progress, like a good team coming together. It's a sign of trust and affection. And in time, if she comes to trust you a lot, the sex becomes even more intimate and vulnerable, as you start to trust each other experimenting, going by instinct rather than plan. Those little shifts would be thrilling for her as she learns to improvise and accept new ideas. Surprising her would be delightful because she always thinks she has the upper hand. How fun to show her that's not always the case.

Lae'zel is a dom more out of necessity than desire, I think. She's probably a switch, happy with whatever suits; she just ends up doming a lot because no one has earned her subbing/she doesn't trust enough yet. But taking turns would also be valuable team building for her, important everyone trains even the skills they're weak at. Together, we become better at sex and at understanding each other. Weirdly, a very emotionally healthy outlook.

Raphael

I think I feel about Raphael as others feel about Enver Gortash. I want to project every flithy, nasty ass thought onto this wet rag of a man. So, without further ado: humiliation is the name of the game. I think if you fucked Haarlep in front of him, binding him so he couldn't do anything, only watch as Haarlep groans about how much better you are than Raphael, I think he'd come in his over-tailored pants. Cuckold the shit out of him. I think he needs to be stepped on, pegged, and drooling in the street. Never let him have his own way. I think he'd see stars getting pushed around like that. I think it would be great for him. Just use him like a cock sleeve, really dig in there. Absolutely deserved.

Like, imagine if this whole thing is his cringefail attempt to court Zariel. Imagine that level of humiliation. Works on this for thousands of years, only to burn his own house down over a few puny mortals stealing his shit. Oh my goddddd.

If nothing else, it would be Fucking Hilarious.

Shadowheart

So Shadowheart is probably into some hardcore stuff, right? She strikes me as someone with a bit of a home invasion kink. Definitely here for the blindfold/sensory deprivation kink. Restraints, but not just bondage, I'm thinking vinyl suits. Shadowheart's definitely into the unconventional. The more toys and artifice, the better.

It's probably next to impossible for Shadowheart to relax sexually. I don't think it's that she isn't into sex, but it's probably difficult for her to calm down and feel safe being vulnerable, get in touch with soft, gentle things that are just nice. Things that hurt a bit are more comfortable, more familiar, and even have less to do with her personally so she doesn't have to deal with her own feelings and preferences. But, with a bit of patience and a firm hand, you could coax Shadowheart into easing up, allowing herself to be taken care of, and to enjoy just a simple hand job or the too soft touch of lips. She's a bit of a project, but especially if you enjoy a bit of darkness and danger, very rewarding.

And Shadowheart would be big into reciprocation, you can't do something nice for her without her doing the same to you. And she'd take it as a point of pride that she's very good at making people beg for mercy. I think she'd become very giving over time, if you can be patient and teach her how to enjoy herself, in time she will give as much and more back to you.

And to be clear, not suggesting she doesn't also and always enjoy a bit of bondage and sensory deprivation, but I think she'd enjoy it more once she's come to terms with the fact this is not a service she's required to provide, an act which could determine her worth, but just occupations she enjoys for herself, outside of external validation. Teaching Shadowheart to masturbate could be huge. I do worry about her some times. A little self-love lessons might be necessary.

Edging also definitely something to try here. The slower the better. But, it's gotta have that pay off, or she'll start circling back to denial is the end in itself. Which... maybe sometimes, but there's also a lot to be enjoyed in the climax too!

Wyll

Hard to find a sweeter, gentler soul on the road. And a softer touch too. Needless to say, it's a lot of firsts with Wyll. But, he's a quick study and enjoys being tender and lovely. And I'll say it right now, even with this illustrious company, I don't think anyone gives better head than Wyll Ravenguard. Such a soft mouth and singularly focused and determined, he genuinely enjoys it too. It's such an act of service and this boy is all about acts of service. He wouldn't even get distracted by his own pleasure, just entirely focused on what he can give you. Halsin might have greater skill, but that heartfelt desire is unparalleled.

Wyll is made to be commanded, he will do whatever you say in bed. Even if you gave him control, I'm not sure he'd want it and definitely wouldn't know what to do with it. Now, not to say he's a pillow princess, those hips are doing their share of heavy lifting. Just to say that he wants instruction, he wants to follow your lead and let you tell him what to do. Praise would be huge here, tell him what a good boy he is, how well he's doing, he'd go mad.

To prolong the pleasure, a little orgasm denial may be useful, make him work for it. He loves a challenge and a test to prove his worthiness. And, in time, you could get experimental with him as you build his confidence. Maybe a little exhibitionism. Maybe a little bondage, a little role play. As long as the trust and love is there, Wyll's willing to try anything once.

Maybe the most fun thing about Wyll is Wyll actually can keep it down. Some of us just have to scream about it, but Wyll can actually get away with a fair mount because of his cool exterior. And Wyll is available for quickies, an advantage over some others here since he doesn't require a huge amount of energy set aside to have a good time. Wyll responds better to smaller but frequent affection and physical touch than big events spaced out. And Wyll is impulsively romantic, he likes to surprise with fun ideas and sudden invitations, which is a reward unto itself.

Zevlor

And a win for Team Sexualizing Old Men! I remember my roots. It is truly a tragedy that Larian won't let me sex up that old man. Look at him, you know it'd be good. So tender, so thorough. And Zevlor deserves something nice god damn it.

You know he knows what he's about. None of that shy, awkward fumbling you get with the new kids. Heck, he probably knows how to get you off standing against a wall, still in his armor! A true prince among men here. Don't think because no one's asked in awhile his skills have diminished.

Very passable oral skills, surprisingly long stamina, not just in oral too ;). Not the fastest ride you'll ever have and some positions are probably going to be out, battle-scarred knees and such, but for my money, absolutely delightful. Don't have to contend with more power than sense here.

And hey, if you want some Honorable Mentions like Aylin, Enver Gortash, or Dammon, let me know! I'm always down to give sexual headcanons no one wanted! 

[farmerlesbian]

Hi! Leather anon back again. I would absolutely love the shop list, Mod Alfalfa, if you have the time! Thank you all for helping out a (wannabe) leather dyke here, I probably won't have the time and money to really get into the subculture for at least another year but in the meantime... I can look!

Hi sorry finally getting around to this! Been busy!

First, I'll give the caveat that I have not purchased from any of these shops so can't vouch for them. One exception, I do have the Camryn harness from Switch Leather co. which I like and would recommend! I like that it's custom sized so I could get it with long enough adjustable straps so it can be cinched to fit both me and my partner, I also liked that it was relatively locally made by hand and is made with real leather so it'll wear nicely and last a long time if I care for it.

Okay let's get to the list of links! These are various styles and aesthetics, things they specialize in, materials, locations, price points, types of kink and bdsm. These are in no particular order at all. As I went through my bookmarks and saves I made sure to stay focused on leather shops specifically, so this list is not including models or influencers/popular people, publications like zines or blogs, photographers or artists, kink things of other adjacent varieties, sex toys, or other assorted things like that. Hard to limit it but I have to keep this list focused! Shop around see what you like. Reblog and add your recommendations or thoughts!

Switch Leather Co. / Instagram (I have the Camryn harness)

Nocturne Leather / Instagram

Riverqueer Leatherwork / Instagram

Fruit Leather Fetish / Instagram

Leather Coven / Instagram

Kolby Brianne / Instagram

Relena's Vegan Bondage / Instagram

Boundaries Leather / Etsy / Instagram

BDSFemme Leather Instagram

Little Death Leather Instagram / Kofi

Theirs + Theirs / Instagram

Emma Alamo / Instagram

Transform Leather Co. / Instagram

Daddy's Leather Shop / Instagram

Ocelotl's Trade / Instagram

Leather Archives Instagram - not a shop but nice to follow

Black Bone Co / Instagram

Ryce NYC / Instagram

Doghouse Leathers / Instagram / Craftingroom Instagram

Current Lace and Leather Instagram (I have a hanging plant holder! It's super cute)

Shop Tina Villa / Instagram

Lupine Leather Co. / Instagram

Yama Craft Space / Instagram

Fleet Ilya / Instagram

Toxic Vision / Instagram

Agate Leather / Instagram

Creepy Yeha / Instagram

Cassandra Von Creep / Instagram

Spill Adornment / Instagram

Peg n Pedal / Instagram - not leather, but repurposed bicycle tubes

Rodeoh / Instagram - not leather, but fabric harnesses

Leather Dyke Club / Instagram

Gnat / Instagram

Leonard Condemine Instagram

Church Leather Instagram

Love Lorn Lingerie / Instagram

Dewy thee occult Instagram - not seeing a way to purchase but felt worth including

Manmade Skins / Instagram

Naassene Leathers / Instagram

Cabbage Cottage / Instagram

Activest Project / Instagram - not leather, but polypro webbing straps

Devil's Remains / Instagram

Pansy Leatherwork / Instagram / @thyfleshc0nsumed

Also, all this said, don't be afraid to buy a hide or some vintage leather items and work with it yourself! You could get an old bag and rip the seams out and use the leather for something new, or find an old jacket and turn it into a vest and add spikes, or get a hide and have a collars and floggers making craft party with your friends!

[lulublack90]

Prompt 31 - Lock

@jegulus-microfic January 31 Word count 1755

This is it folks. I'm quite emotional. I really hope you all like it.

For my biggest fans @weirdtinkerbellversion @thedvilsinthedetails and @beautyoftheships I love you guys.

Previous part First part

All he could hear was white noise. His brain couldn’t process James’s words. His eyes found the bottle of wine, and he automatically poured himself a glass and downed it. 

He grasped the edge of the counter with both hands and felt his body shake. 

James remained silent, not wanting to push him. 

Regulus bit back tears and turned around, putting his protective mask in place, leaving his face devoid of emotion. 

“So that’s it for us then?” He stared at James with dead eyes, his voice a bored monotone. It made James shiver.

“I don’t want it to be.” Tears dripped down his face. “Reg,” He croaked. “I love you. I want to be with you. Lily told me this life-changing news,” He looked at his watch. “Four hours ago.”

“So, you didn’t know anything while I was arranging my return to England?” He sounded cold and accusing. He tried not to care. James shook his head. 

“No, Reg. I swear. I’ve only just found out.” James looked at him, features full of heartbreak. “You’re the first person I’ve told. Not even Sirius knows.” This shocked Regulus almost as much as finding out James was going to be a father. 

He smelt burning. He spun around and pulled the ruined dinner out of the oven. He threw it on the side and bit down on his lip. 

“James, I need you to go. Please.” His mask had slipped. It would be only moments before he broke down. 

“Reg—“

“Please, James. I need to figure out if this is the life I want. Kids were never my plan, and now…” He didn’t know how to finish that sentence, so he let it sit. 

“I’m so sorry, Reg. Nothing ever seems to go right for us. Does it? I really hope that changes.” His voice was thick as he continued. “Please remember whatever you choose, I will always love you.” With that, James left. The door hadn’t even banged shut before Regulus was sobbing. 

———————————————————————————

James’s chest hurt. What should have been a hopefully pleasant evening had turned into yet another nightmare. He looked up at the skies and called out to whoever might be listening.

“Could whoever is writing our story please give us a break?!” When he got no answer, he walked back to his empty house. Even Leo had gone out.       

His phone buzzed. 

‘Hey. Reggie just texted me and said you’d gone home already. Take it it didn’t go well then? Wanna meet for lunch tomorrow? Usual place?

Love ya

xxx’

He sent back a quick, ‘Yeah, sounds good to me. See you at noon x.’ He decided the best thing was to go to bed and deal with everything in the morning. 

***

James heard the sound of thundering boots coming up fast behind him. He began to turn, but before he could see what was happening. There was an almighty thud. He looked down at the pavement and sprawled across it. Hair in a wild mess was Sirius. 

“Trip over your laces again?” James said flatly. 

“Yup.” A muffled reply came from the heap on the floor. James snorted loudly as he bent to pick his friend up. 

Miraculously, Sirius had gotten away with only a slight graze on his cheek. 

“Is it true? Am I going to be an Uncle!” He shook James vigorously in his excitement. 

“I suppose so, I guess,” James said as he tried to escape Sirius's grasp.

“I’m godfather!” He burst out, bouncing up and down. 

“Sirius, we’re not even religious.” 

“Fine, fairy godfather, whatever. Either way, I bagsy it.” James sighed and clapped him on the back.

“You got it, you absolute crazy man.” He bent down and tied Sirius’s laces for him. 

“Awww, you’re gonna be such a good dad.” He gushed as he wiggled his foot, checking out his shoelaces.

“Come on then, let’s go get lunch. I had some amazing news to tell you.” James chuckled as he threw his arm around Sirius’s shoulder and continued down the street to the little cafe on the corner. 

Sirius didn’t stop babbling about all the baby things he’d googled and spouted off so much information that James felt his chest tightening in panic.

“I think he just needs time, you know.” 

“Hmm, what?” James had completely zoned out, picking his sandwich to pieces.

“I said, he just needs time. It’s a lot. But I really hope he picks you, mate.” Sirius said, taking James’s hands away from his decimated sandwich and squeezing them gently. He didn’t want to get his hopes up again, but he didn’t fight very hard.      

***

He was painting when the door went. He nearly fell off the ladder as he hurried downstairs to answer it. He was covered in paint, so he tried to touch as few things as possible. 

He yanked the door open, slightly red-faced, and lost all his breath when he saw Regulus standing there. 

“Hi,” 

“Hi,” 

“I’ve made my decision.” Regulus blurted out, not waiting to be invited in. James felt his mouth go dry.

“And?” His tongue was like sandpaper. He couldn’t take the suspense.

“I’m in,” Regulus said confidently. “Nappies, late night feedings, helping them plot their revenge on the school bully. All of it. I’m in.” Without warning, James flung himself at Regulus. He gathered him up into his arms and spun him around. He was bursting with joy. 

He suddenly dropped him and ran into his office. He rooted around in a draw and rushed back to Regulus, who was still waiting at the front door. 

“I got you something.” He held out the small box.

“What the fuck! James! Are you proposing?” Regulus’s eyebrows disappeared into the curls that hung over his forehead. James’s eyes widened.

“NO! No, No,” He opened the box. “It’s just a key!” 

“Oh,” Regulus sounded disappointed. James made a mental note to put a pin in that for later. 

“And what lock does this open, James? Your heart?” A playful smirk settled on Regulus’s mouth. 

“It’s a key to the house. So you don’t have to knock any more, you can come and go as you please. And—” He took a deep breath. He’d been preparing for this. “And if you’d like to—No pressure, by the way—But if you’d like to, I’d love it if you moved in with me.” Regulus took the silver-coloured key from the box and held it in his hand, staring at it, flipping it over in his palm. He looked up at James, a sweet, shy smile on his lips. 

“Okay.”

“Okay?” 

“Okay, I’ll move in with you. Being away, I forgot how obnoxious Sirius is. I’ve had to buy earplugs to block out his nighttime noises.” He pulled a face, gagging slightly. James grabbed him in his arms again and lifted him into the air. 

“I love you,” He whispered across Regulus’s lips before closing the gap. 

Only when he set a breathless Regulus back on his feet did he remember he was covered in paint. He looked in horror at the cream-coloured paint splattered all over Regulus’s black coat. Regulus looked down as well. 

“Is that paint?” His eyebrow shot up as he questioned James. 

“Yeah, sorry. I was painting the room that’s going to be the nursery. Er, put your coat in the wash, and you can borrow one of mine. I’ll just go get changed.” He ushered Regulus inside and shut the door. Being very careful not to touch him again.

Regulus shrugged off his coat. 

“Did you get it finished.? He asked matter of factly. 

“Er, no, I didn’t. I barely even started. Only done about half a wall.” Regulus pulled his jumper off and started up the stairs. James chased after him and into his bedroom. But Regulus wasn’t there. “Reg?” He called out as he tried and failed to figure out where he’d gone. 

“I’m in the baby’s room. Where are you?” Regulus called back. James hurried out of the bedroom. Clearly, he’d gotten the wrong idea. 

Regulus, roller in hand, was making a start on the wall that James had started. He’d already accomplished more than he had and didn’t have a lick of paint on him. James leaned against the door frame, watching the man he hoped to spend the rest of his life with painting his unborn child’s room. 

He didn’t think there were enough words in the world to describe how much he loved him.     

———————————————————————————

Nine months later

“James, he’s beautiful.” Regulus hadn’t expected to feel this way when meeting baby Harry for the first time. The tiny raven-haired boy slept soundly in James’s arms. James grinned the biggest grin Regulus had ever seen on his face. He turned to Lily. “He’s amazing, Lily. How are you doing?” She looked exhausted, but she still had a smile for him and a cheeky wink. 

“You know me. Cup of coffee, and I’ll be right back up.”

“Do you want to hold him?” James asked him as he slowly rocked the baby to and fro. 

“I don’t want to hurt him,” Regulus said quietly. His palms felt sweaty as he looked nervously at the tiny, delicate bundle that was nestled in James’s arms. 

“You’ll be fine. Here.” James stood and awkwardly transferred Harry into Regulus’s arms. 

He looked again at the tiny baby and felt a protective love surge through his body. 

Harry fussed in his arms, and he instinctively began to sway. Harry opened his little mouth in a perfect O and settled back down. He was so in love. 

There was a quiet tap at the hospital door, and Sirius’s face popped around it. 

“Can we come in yet?” He whined. James nodded.

“Yeah, of course you can.” 

Sirius rushed in, followed more slowly by Remus. They crowded around Regulus so they could get a good look at the baby. 

“Look, Sirius,” Regulus said, pulling his gaze away from Harry to look at his brother. “Isn’t he perfect?” Sirius wrapped an arm around him.

“Yeah, Reggie, he is. Now give me a turn!” Reluctantly, Regulus handed him over and went to stand next to James. James pulled him in close, wrapping his arms around him as they watched Sirius and Remus quietly argue over how long Sirius got to hold him before it was Remus’s turn. Lily had fallen asleep. She was exhausted after the long labour. It was peaceful. 

James leant his chin on Regulus’s shoulder and whispered in his ear.

“How you doing, Papa?” Regulus’s heart melted.    

[thecoronationday]

wanted to post my coronation day peach x mx art from twitter .. heard you all were starving. plus this ship is recognized by mx's creator razzledazzledoo so have fun

follow me on twt @/pinkadeparade + reblog > likes

[tonguetyd]

Disclaimer: I don’t draw. The stuff on my jacket is the most art I have made…like…ever. But, giving it a shot anyway.

An Offering.

Reference photo by adamrosssi

[skyward-floored]

The cat’s out of the bag chapter 3

Surprise, I finished it! It’s a pi day miracle lol. Yet more adventures of Wind as a cat.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/52017334/chapters/137983660

Chapter 2 | Next

————————————————————

The last bits of light were gone from the sky, revealing stars speckled all across the dark expanse it had become. The moon had risen as well, a thin claw of white partially obscured by the branches of the forest, and Twilight glanced at it once, before looking back at the heroes who were gathered around him.

“So...”

Warriors’ voice seemed loud in the quiet that had fallen over the group, and the captain crossed his arms, giving Twilight an intense look that felt like it burned straight through him.

“Wind touched an item of yours he shouldn’t have, it turned him into a cat, and the only sure-fire way to fix him is with the Master Sword. Am I correct?” he asked in a surprisingly level voice, and Twilight nodded.

“Yes.”

“Hm.”

Warriors raised an eyebrow, but nodded and didn’t push for any further information, to Twilight’s surprise.

...and relief.

He’d just finished his explanation of how Wind had become a feline, and Warriors had seemed... extremely skeptical of the tale. It was true Twilight had tiptoed around the fact that he was Wolfie, and the item that had turned Wind was what he used to do it, but he hadn’t lied at all in his story.

...sidestepped the truth a little, but hadn’t lied.

Time had given Twilight several looks during his explanation of events, as had Wild, but neither of them interjected, and nobody else who knew about Wolfie had said anything either.

And maybe it would have been better just to explain everything, since Warriors and Hyrule were the only two heroes beside Sky who weren’t aware of his wolf-form. But truth be told, Twilight just wasn’t in the mood to face the whole ‘by the way I’m Wolfie’ conversation. He’d already had to explain it all to Wind today, the others could wait a bit longer.

Though, with the faces Warriors was making... it probably wouldn’t be long before he figured it out.

If he hadn’t already.

“So it’s a magic item then,” Hyrule said thoughtfully, then frowned a little. “One that isn’t easy to control... I thought you didn’t like magic, Rancher?”

Twilight shrugged. “I have a few artifacts. That one is just...” He hesitated. “...tricky.”

“That’s one word for it,” Legend snorted under his breath.

“Is the Master Sword really the only way to restore him?” Warriors asked again, and Twilight nodded.

“The only one available to us. Another source of strong, pure light magic might be able to fix him, like the light spirits in my Hyrule, but I’m certain these aren’t my lands. The sword is our best bet.”

“Well that’s unfortunate with Sky missing,” Four frowned. He looked at Wind, and the thoughtfulness in his eyes quickly turned soft. “...Is he asleep already?”

Twilight paused at Four’s hushed question, and looked down at the ball of fluff curled up on his lap, little breathy noises coming from within. Wind’s tail was tucked over his nose, leaving only the top of his face visible, and his eyes were closed, the tension his body had been holding all afternoon finally relaxed.

“I think so,” Twilight whispered back, and Time sighed from next to him.

“Good. He needs the rest. He was barely standing,” he said softly, and Twilight nodded, resisting the urge to cuddle Wind up to his chest.

He would never admit it while the sailor was awake, but he was cute, soft creamy fur with faint windy swirls of a darker pattern on his feet, face, and tail, and big blue-green eyes with a little pink nose. He wasn’t even a completely full-grown cat yet, which only made him more adorable, but Twilight was sure he’d get a bite on the hand if he voiced it.

But... he really was cute.

And exhausted because of you, his brain hissed, and the guilt constricted in Twilight’s middle again. You should have warned him sooner about touching the crystal.

“Poor kid. He’s totally exhausted, huh?” Legend asked, and Twilight checked back into the discussion, nodding.

“The transformation wore him out. It’s a lot of magic all at once, and he wasn’t expecting it at all,” Twilight said quietly, running a gentle hand over Wind’s fur.

“But he’ll be okay, right?” Wild asked, fiddling with his tunic as he looked at the sailor, and Twilight nodded.

“Yeah. The first time is always the worst.”

Warriors narrowed his eyes at that, and Hyrule had a suspicious look on his face as he glanced between Wind and Twilight. Twilight swallowed, and averted his gaze from the two, trying not to fidget.

Okay, maybe I should just come out with it already, this is a bit ridiculous.

Twilight couldn’t quite get his mouth to open, though.

He shifted a little awkwardly on his seat, and Wind suddenly raised his head with a soft mrrp?, looking around sleepily. Everyone immediately quieted down, and they all looked at Wind, who barely seemed awake.

“Sorry Wind, it’s okay. You can go back to sleep,” the rancher whispered, and Wind flicked an ear, then closed his eyes, tucking his paws back underneath him. He let out a breathy little sigh as he curled back up, and was asleep within moments.

Twilight heard a soft click, and looked over to see Wild taking a picture on his slate, a grin on his face.

“It’s for posterity,” he defended when Twilight raised an eyebrow. “You wouldn’t want future generations to miss out on this cuteness, would you Twi? Or his sister? She’ll be so sad if she hears that this happened and she didn’t get to see.”

Twilight waved a hand in defeat. “I take no responsibility for this if Wind asks.”

“He might not appreciate pictures,” Time mentioned with an eyebrow raised similar to Twilight’s, but Wild just took another picture.

“If it happened to me he would be taking pictures too. I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it,” he said cheerily.

Twilight shrugged. He knew Wind had at least one picture of Wild his protégé wouldn’t want getting out. This was just evening the score.

“So... what are we going to do about Sky?” Four asked, trying to get back on track, and Warriors hummed.

“Going out and looking for him now wouldn’t be very productive, it’s too dark,” he said with a look up at the sky. “My suggestion would be that we leave someone up to watch for Sky, do an occasional loop around camp, maybe call now and then. If he hasn’t come around by tomorrow, we can look for him in earnest.”

He glanced at Twilight, and Twilight met his gaze with a level look.

“That sounds fine,” Time said before either of them could say anything, and placed a hand on Twilight’s shoulder. “But now we should all get some rest, you especially rancher.”

Twilight turned towards his ancestor with a confused look. “I’m fine old man, that red potion did the trick.”

“Those don’t fix blood loss though,” Hyrule pointed out helpfully. “At least not all the way. And you still look pale.”

“Our Traveler is correct. Get some sleep, Rancher,” Time said firmly, and gave his shoulder a squeeze. “You’ll be able to help Wind better if you’re well rested.”

Twilight hesitated, then let out a sigh. “Fine.”

He had wanted to stay up for at least one shift of keeping an eye out for Sky, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen. Not with everyone watching me like I’m going to suddenly collapse.

Though to be fair, he did still feel a tad dizzy.

Twilight slouched more against the log he was sitting against, unwilling to further disturb Wind from his peaceful slumber by properly lying down, and closed his eyes, beyond tired from the day’s events.

He just hoped they would find Sky quickly.

(...)

Wind stretched himself out with a big yawn, extending his toes and claws into the sunshine, and raising his back up in the air.

He shook himself once he’d finished, and watched the rest of the heroes finish packing up camp. Wind had slept straight through the night and woken up early, but had been sorely disappointed to discover that Sky hadn’t joined them in the middle of the night.

Waking up and remembering he was a cat also wasn’t so fun, but at least he was starting to get used to it.

A spot on his head itched, and Wind huffed, sitting down and attempting to scratch at it with one of his paws. He didn’t have any luck though, merely bonking it once and nearly falling over, and Wind growled in frustration. Oh come on!

“Try your back leg.”

Wind lowered his front paw, and looked over at Wild, who had obviously been watching him.

“Your back leg,” Wild repeated, and pointed to one. “Raise it up and tilt your head, you’ll be able to reach any itches on your head or neck.”

That sounds fake, but okay, Wind thought, then tried to do what Wild said. To his surprise, his foot went right where he wanted it to, and he was able to relieve the itching with barely a thought. Well whaddya know?

Wind gave Wild a grateful look, and the cook shot him a grin.

“No problem, Sailor. I’ve spent enough time around Wolfie and stable dogs to know a few of their tricks,” he said, and Legend snorted from nearby, standing up as he strapped his sword on.

“You’re wild enough without needing to take tips from dogs and wolves, Champ.”

“Hey now, the stable dogs are very civilized,” Wild said, and earned a flick on the ear from Twilight as he walked by. “Hey!”

Wind let out a little mewl of laughter at Wild’s offended look, and Twilight kneeled down next to him, extending an arm. Wind blinked at him, then realized Twilight must want him to climb up and sit on his shoulder again while they walked.

“I know, I would rather walk if it were me too,” Twilight apologized when Wind let out a grumpy little huff. “But we need to figure out what happened to Sky, and we’ll make better ground if I carry you.”

Wind lashed his tail and stood up, walking around in a little circle and concentrating on where he placed every paw. He managed to make it all the way around Twilight without falling over, and gave him a hopeful look.

“See? I’ll be fine!” Wind meowed pointedly, blinking up at Twilight.

Twilight sighed. “Sailor...”

“I think he could walk with us for at least a little while,” Four piped up from nearby, looking down at Wind. “He seems a lot stronger than he did yesterday.”

“Yeah, and he can always just hitch a ride if he gets tired,” Wild added, and Twilight looked between him and Four, then back at Wind.

“You’re sure you can handle walking?” he asked seriously, and Wind nodded, his tail sticking up. Twilight studied him a moment, then sighed, giving him a nod. “...Then I’m okay with it. As long as you let us know the minute you need a break, and let someone carry you.”

Wind scrunched his face up at the addition, but meowed in agreement, willing to put up with it so long as he got to walk by himself.

He felt plenty rested from sleeping, and had practiced walking around a bit while everyone else had woken up and packed up their things. Wind felt much more confident in his paws, even if he was still tripping regularly, and he was eager to walk around more.

Besides, I bet we’ll find Sky really quickly and I won’t even need to walk that long.

“So which way should we go?”

Wind looked up at who’d spoken, Four gesturing to the woods around them. Everyone was packed and ready to go, and they stood ready to begin walking.

...As soon as they figured out where to go.

“...huh. Good question,” Twilight said, looking around the trees as well. “What’s the mostly likely direction for Sky to have ended up in?”

“Well, if we came out over there, and you guys came out over there, then it stands to reason that Sky probably came out in a different direction,” Wild said, studying the woods and pointing in a seemingly random direction. The birch trees he was gesturing to made the forest seem strangely bright, and Wind had to squint a little. “So we should try over here.”

“Why there specifically?” Warriors asked.

Wild shrugged. “The ground slopes up, it’ll probably lead to a good vantage point if nothing else. If Sky isn’t there, we might be able to at least see where he actually is.”

“But what if Sky came out the other direction?” Hyrule asked. “Then we’ll be going away from each other.”

“That might be a risk we have to take,” Time said thoughtfully.

“We might waste a lot of time though,” Warriors cut in, “Sky might need our help, and if he really did come out a different direction...”

They all began to argue about where to go, and Wind rolled his eyes and stopped listening, looking around a minute, then trotting towards a rock nearby that was covered in moss. It smelled pretty interesting, much more interesting then a discussion he couldn’t contribute to, and Wind gave it a curious sniff as he walked around to the other side, out of view of the arguing Links.

The moss looked soft too, and Wind raised a paw, pressing against it and letting out a little purr when he realized he’d been right. It was really soft!

Wind nuzzled up to it, rubbing his face along the moss, then pulled back when a bug nearly crawled on his nose. He sniffed at it, poking it with a paw, then flattened his ears and backed away as a smell hit him, thick and unpleasant. That must be one of those stink bugs Hyrule was talking about.

Wind shook his head in disgust and sniffed around some more, trying to get the bad smell out of his nose by smelling other things. He wandered into the woods a little, smelling pine needles and sunshine, and sat down on a small stone, curling his tail around him as he took in the forest.

As annoying as being stuck as a cat was, it really was kinda cool how heightened his senses were. He could smell all sorts of things about the woods, flowers and animals, and faint traces of the ocean somewhere. He could smell the other heroes from behind him too, each with their own unique scents. Wind could even hear them talking if he swiveled his ears around, though not the exact words.

He could tell they were still arguing though.

Wind shook his head in exasperation, and stood up again, trotting a little deeper into the woods. If they were going to just stand around and argue, he’d look around for Sky himself. He could smell things so well right now, he’d be one of the most likely to find him, right?

Easy-peasy.

A chirp interrupted his thoughts, and Wind looked over to see a little white bird land on a log nearby.

It chirped and hopped along the wood, and Wind couldn’t help staring at it, his tail twitching. Something about it was almost mesmerizing, drawing his focus, and he crept a bit closer, staying low to the ground so the bird wouldn’t see him. It chirped on, oblivious to his presence, and Wind hid behind a stump, poking his head out and watching the bird.

I wonder what would happen if I pounced on it? he thought as it chirped again, then blinked. ...I wonder where that thought came from.

Wind watched the bird again, pecking at the wood below it and trying to get some bugs to eat. His tail gave a big twitch, and Wind began to creep out from the cover of the stump, zeroing in on the bird.

I’ll just jump on it to see if I can, he thought to himself, sneaking closer. Aryll would kill me if she knew I hurt a bird, so I’ll just pounce on it and let it go—

“Wind!”

The bird squawked and flew away, and Wind felt a hand scoop him up by the scruff, startling a mrreow out of him.

“Don’t wander off!” Twilight’s voice scolded, and turned Wind around so he could look at his face. Wind let out a cross hiss at him. “Oh don’t give me that, you’ve been gone ten minutes, we thought you’d gotten lost or something!”

Just because I’m a cat doesn’t mean I suddenly can’t handle myself! Wind thought with an growl, and he and Twilight glared at each other a minute before Twilight sighed, and set him down.

Wind sat down and crossly licked his shoulder, ears flat with annoyance.

“Look, Wind... you’re vulnerable at the moment,” Twilight said, his face creased. “I know it might not feel that way to you, but the truth of it is you are. You’re not used to this form, and you can’t easily defend yourself. You need to be careful.”

“I was being careful!” Wind meowed back, wishing he could actually speak his mind. “I was listening and smelling for danger! And I was looking for Sky! Unlike you all who were just arguing!”

Twilight sighed. “I don’t have any idea what you said, Sailor, I’m sorry. But we figured out where we’re going, so come on back so we can get a move on.”

Wind let out a muttered growl of agreement, and walked along at Twilight’s heels when he turned back towards the others, Wind’s ears still flat.

Great. We’d finally started to get past treating me as a useless kid, and now we’re back to square one! Being a cat doesn’t not make me a hero!

Wind kicked at some pine needles, and tripped, just barely catching himself. Twilight gave him a look, but Wind ignored it, righting himself and looking grumpily at the paws he kept stumbling over.

Sky... please be somewhere close by.

I miss being me.

[lycorisicecream]

I'm asking nicely. Give me what I want. I'll ask politely. Give me what I want. /lyr

[lesbenson]

liv brain, eo, and season 25. titled “fade in 2 u” in my drafts. enjoy if you want to!

It’s with tears in her eyes and his necklace between her fingers that Olivia says this last goodbye. Private, silent, prayer. A promise to try, to stay, with no mention of when he’ll come back around to her. Blinds drawn and door locked, it feels a little like she’s pressing on a bruise. It’s almost enough to distract from the soreness in her hip, until she moves or breathes or thinks about the look on Elliot’s face when he said he thought he lost her. She felt like she was lying to him, saying she couldn’t imagine what it brought up. But he can still surprise her, stalking like a fawn and murmuring about this precious life.

She hates them both, most days. And then she doesn’t know where to put that hate when he’s in her space, calling her sweet names and speaking soft over gifts in little boxes. Trading her for a gift box just to take the pressure off, holding the ornament close to his chest like it’s worth the same as this compass.


“I’ll treasure it.”

He leaves the little wooden E on the edge of her desk. Like her own small treasure, she sweeps it quickly into the top drawer.

Not that it matters, now, but Olivia had no intention of falling in love with Elliot when they were partners. She had no intention of forgiving him if he ever came back, and she cannot begin to voice it, but still, somewhere small and warm and quiet she knows she forgave him a long time ago. As much as she could, anyway. It’s patience, or empathy, or loyalty, if anyone cared to ask. Really, she just never stopped caring for him. She never could. For the years Elliot was gone, she could pretend not to understand him, his betrayal, but even that denial was self-indulgent. Olivia understands why he ran, what scares her still is that he could do it again.

She always thought his dedication was genuine, even in the moments his anger seemed to erupt far beyond him. His family was charming, but distant. Unfamiliar, so unenviable. She didn’t know that a decade later she would be fucking wrecked not to be having his kids. Another decade and she would have to face his youngest son, with eyes even bigger and darker than her own, another strange and mocking mirror of her grief. She sometimes thinks of it as her slight payback for Noah having Elliot’s same crystal eyes; the first thing she noticed about Elliot when they met and her second favorite feature.

The real favorite is his smile, his mouth, the way he grins when he’s trying to be charming. In their first month as partners she made a joke about it, and he looked so happy to be seen through. Like nobody had observed him so closely in a while. He gave her a different smile, and for years she found herself trying to spark it again. Elliot had flashed his baby blues at her then, too. They still make her melt, and he knows, and it is mortifying.

They looked so bright and soft and green, holding back tears in her office. He was still the one leaving.

Olivia had bit her tongue. Don’t go? Don’t go. You would never go if I asked you to stay. You don’t actually want to leave me. You don’t actually want to leave. You don’t actually want me.

Elliot tells her to find happiness, to let his compass lead her, as he is halfway out the door again. She thinks of little badges and magnets being pulled apart. The last time he sent her chasing happiness so he could slip away. Mostly, she wonders when he will see the dilemma.

He called her partner on his way out, and there was that smile again. Jackass.

Elliot’s necklace is warm by the time it slides against her chest, the heat of her hand boring into it. She pulls her thick hair out from under the chain and swallows hard at the intrusion of a memory - his hands so gentle as he had untangled her hair, the big plastic clip knocking against a wall she tried to lean on in an urgent care waiting room. The blood was minimal and the nurses were moving fast, but every time there was a moment of stillness Elliot had found a way to rest a hand on her leg, squeeze her shoulder. If she thinks too long about him cooing in her ear and brushing the hair out of her face, she might split her side open entirely.

——

Her ache for him works in a strange sort of reverse this time. For the first couple of weeks without him, she’s mostly numb — sad in the way she’s learned to live with, a little sensitive in her suspension between longing and remembering. Elliot is gone again. Soon she will have worked alone longer than they were partners, ten years since sergeant. Ten years in her office, reshaping herself inside those walls. She always wanted to be unrecognizable to Elliot if she saw him again. He never acted like she was, even when Olivia felt like she deserved to be a stranger to him.

When a full month goes by with no news, she finds herself furiously wiping tears in the produce aisle. She nicks her leg shaving and swears at a volume she doesn’t even recognize. She feels unsteady. Untethered. Four more weeks and she puts a photo of them on her desk, in a little collage mat that’s mostly occupied by Noah, and she starts using a hand soap in her bathroom that she thinks smells a little like his cologne. Nothing is quite enough.

There are moments of rest, somewhere in August. When Noah goes back to school she can really fall back into her rhythms, letting cases blend the days together while the weather changes.

She wore the compass all summer, gold and shimmering against the soft tan of her chest, and she wonders still what made him pick the little pink stones. If he knew they would start to look exactly like the blush that used to run across his high cheekbones, the rough inside of his hands. She wonders if he’s close enough to see the same trees changing, far enough to feel the cold already.

Olivia secretly looks forward to the winter, the sharp feeling of the air and the way the sky matches the concrete, sun shining through clouds and reflecting off of big glass buildings. The streets are still busy, but the people move faster. The holidays are always strange for her, suppressing guilt she feels for every dinner that didn’t happen. Seated protective and close to Noah at the McCann’s, she is hit with a pang of sadness for the celebrations she won’t have with Simon, with her mother. Grateful for her baby, for her safety, for her job, for her sanity. No new year’s resolutions, just a tiny feeling blooming in her chest. Something like anticipation.

—-

When Maddie Flynn disappears, Olivia knows she has lost a piece of herself within the case before their first day of searching is over. She is exercising all of her strength trying to stay upright, the plummeting in her stomach never ever reaching an end.

She tells people it was a bad instinct, that she should have known better. What scares her more, so much more, is to think that she did. Too distracted, too tired, too disoriented. Traffic was thick and her eyes had not adjusted to the sunlight and Noah was asking her so many questions and she just could not focus on what she saw. She will turn it over in her mind for weeks after it starts, what it means for her, after all of these years, not to act on it. How little the rest of it matters now that she has let a girl go, how nothing saved changes what’s been lost. She thinks of stupid Elliot, breaking things just to tell her they can be fixed, breaking the moment just to make her smile. She hears Fin tell Velasco to shut his mouth and do what he’s told, “If this girl doesn’t come home, Liv is never gonna forgive herself.” She thinks he doesn’t know how right he is.

She makes it through her whole apartment, her and Noah’s goodnights, and the majority of her nighttime routine before she just lets it go. Hot tears fill her eyes and before she can get her breathing under control, she collapses on the edge of her bed, quietly inhaling through her cries. Blonde, 5’5, 15 years old. Energy drink van, front seat, Lincoln tunnel. Clutching her stomach, she chokes on a few hard inhales as she tries to steady, her head pounding. Maddie’s name floats around the room on a soft voice, something like a prayer that feels more like a plea.

The exhaustion is bottomless, lately. She misses being angry all the time. On edge. Passionate. She goes for long stretches not feeling like someone who cares about anything by the time she gets in bed, or she feels this, this searing pain. Olivia thinks of Muncy, of Kat, when she curls under her sheets and wonders what will finally make it all feel like enough. When she joined SVU she still felt like she had something to prove, something to fix. She can’t even access that sense of hope sometimes, often wonders if that’s what the feeling really was.

Olivia lies silent, eyes open in her dark room. The vibrating chirps of her phone startle her, but not nearly as much as the name flashing across the screen.

Elliot Stabler and the same picture as her desk, the only one they have taken since he’s been back (his sweet mother, with both of them halfway out the door, had just told them she wanted one and sentiment caught her by surprise. They both told Bernie it was okay, really, Olivia trying to hide and Elliot giving her an out. She shushed them both and they laughed quietly to each other, their faces inches apart when he bowed his head in defeat. He threw a big arm over her shoulders and squeezed, and her annoyance with him had evaporated with the briefest thought of teenagers on prom night).

She watches his name inch across her screen, flicking off the sound instead of ending the call. She can’t pick up, not with her breathing so ragged. Her hands are shaking, still, and this isn’t how she wants it to be for them. She isn’t prepared to talk to him or lie to him or for whatever he might be asking of her in the middle of the night. Then it hits her, and she feels like an asshole for the delay, but he could be in danger. He almost always is, in a way. She would have to run to him, or else just tell him she’s a lousy hero.

Thinking first that wallowing won’t save Maddie Flynn, then that Elliot would probably call his team in a real crisis, she lets the phone drop from her hands to her lap. The vibrating stops a few seconds later, the eventual buzz of a voicemail breaking the silence she was holding for another call.

Olivia rubs both hands over her face, sighing before hitting play on his message.

Hey Liv. It’s me. I just got back.

An old case of ours.

Maybe I just wanted to hear your voice.

Call me.

The comfort she finds in the smallest of Elliot’s mannerisms still surprises her, but she finds her heart fluttering just hearing his voice, the deep breaths while he chooses his words. She misses him so much of the time she almost can’t keep track of everything she misses about him, until moments like this. Moments when he seems so real and so close it feels like no time has passed, or like it didn’t pass with the two of them sliced in half. Olivia does resent him for it, what he can get away with just by still being this man that she loves, that she trusts. Her partner, exactly how she remembers him.

Part of her, the larger part, wants to call him back. Ask about his case, pick a fight, tell him to come over. She wants to know how he’s been, needs to know if he has any bruises, wants to hear about all of the things that make him think of her.

She wants him to help her find her missing girl. She can’t call him, she realizes, if not for that. She could, maybe, throw him into the case and he might tread lightly enough for it to work, but with the way her head is pounding right now she just can’t imagine keeping it together in front of him. And she wants to, wants to be strong and sturdy and ready, when she sees him again.

She doesn’t get much sleep, but she plays his voicemail a few more times.

—-

She actually doesn’t sleep most nights, for weeks on end. On a foggy morning run she finds herself chasing a green van, hearing Maddie’s name ripping from her throat. The guy calls her crazy, and she thinks about chasing him onto the highway. She almost grabs the arm of a girl walking out of Noah’s dance studio, long blonde hair and a baby blue hoodie making her jump before she catches herself.

Olivia has never been able to name the feeling of the city when she knows a child is missing inside it. It’s not just haunting, or vigilance, it’s a distortion. She sees Maddie everywhere because she is looking for her everywhere. She is so afraid of making the same mistake that she is suspicious of everyone. She’s distracted by the ever-changing scenes of the city, convinced everything will become the one thing she missed. Fin tells her, or she tells him what she knows he sees, that she has not been herself since Maddie was taken.

She can’t be, is the thing. She can feel this phantom ache, Maddie’s grip on her from God knows how far. Like she’s been ripped apart, a piece of her still tethered as it is taken away. The guilt is eating her alive, everyday, and when Eileen Flynn calls her from the hospital Olivia can barely breathe. She has to try to explain it, in the EMDR suite, what the sight of Peter’s belt in Maddie’s closet still does to her.

Olivia keeps trying to get around it, anything that she has to preface with “there was a case- a guy, ten years ago,” she would rather just not get into. She remembers the instinct to drop her necklace in the trunk of a car, and she already misses the feel of Maddie’s plastic beads on her wrist.

She never pictured a treatment she’d be more nauseous during than her first few weeks with Lindstrom, but when she walks out into the night after these sessions she still feels a little off balance. She tries to just trust it will help, which is harder than trusting herself to go — a small but welcome change.

—-

Curry tells her, first thing in the morning. They took Stabler’s badge. He hit a kid, or he hurt a kid, or they think he tried to kill a guy. Suspended, second time in four years. It’s not looking good for him, when and if he gets back to his desk.

Olivia knows him, knows Elliot is either tearing his place apart from agitation or physically beating himself up for whatever it is he did to hurt that boy. She simply tells Curry to keep her updated, if she can, and she manages not to ask if they need someone to vouch for him at his next hearing. She types and deletes the same message maybe ten times throughout the day. “Dinner soon? I think we have a lot to talk about.”

She feels worse for not calling him back now than she had to begin with. Ignoring him is as much a retaliation as it is another wound to salt, always making herself that much more miserable to teach Elliot a lesson about leaving. It’s sick, is what it is, and now a teenage boy is in the hospital and a teenage girl is still missing. She calls him that night while staking out Noah’s room from the kitchen, trying to ground herself with his presence without waking him. The call goes straight to voicemail and she hangs up.

She dreams of him in the passenger seat, younger and stubbly and deathly serious. She’s flying down the road, she doesn’t know which one, or what hour it is. Everything is orange and bright and hot and he’s giving her directions, clear and sure. She’s closing in on a van, neon green with skulls and Elliot has a big hand flat on the dash, loudly egging her on. The sun isn’t moving up or down the horizon but closer to them, the road seemingly widening so Olivia can circle the van, tire-to-tire with the front wheels. Still speeding in perfect tandem, both drivers face each other. Maddie grips the wheel, her hair whipping around her face, her eyes wild. Olivia screams her name, and Maddie looks back at the road. She feels cold, so cold, and the sky is getting redder as the metal of her side mirror screeches against the van’s. She tries again, the wail echoing, and when Maddie turns back to her there are bloody tear streaks on her cheeks. Olivia tries to scream, cut short by Elliot grabbing the wheel, jerking it hard and sending them spinning in front of the van. She wakes up panting, the sun barely starting to split between her blinds.

She at least waits for Noah to finish his breakfast before calling Elliot again, knowing if he is adhering to his suspension he should answer the landline. When that goes to voicemail she takes it a little harder.

“Call me back. I’m here.” It’s the kind of thing they used to say to each other constantly, and she wonders if the meaning ever changes. I need to be with you through this to know how you are. I know how you’re feeling more than anyone else in the world. You’re the only one that feels it this much too. I’m here. We don’t have to talk. I don’t want to talk. I want to hear you. See you. They also both used to be able to take a missed call on the chin, but it’s become a bit of a sore spot for her.

—-

Another dream, a waking one. Maddie’s voice, ringing in a dark, mildewy cabin. Her small frame in the center of the room, all of her wrapped in Olivia’s arms. Her hair is wrong and she looks sickly, terrified, but those are the eyes that glanced at Olivia from the front of an energy drink van. She’s certain of it, and Maddie holds onto her like she is too.

—-

It’s a chance thing, or more bad timing, when Olivia halfway hears from him again. She’s in the shower when he calls, and so she opens her phone to another voicemail. Laying out clothes and badges for commencement, she plays it on speaker.

His voice stops her in her tracks. It’s raspy, like he’s been up, or yelling, or crying. His words, too, make her freeze.

“Hey, hon. I uh- listen, I’m sorry I didn’t get back to you. It’s- um- it’s not exactly something I can- you know. I don’t wanna do it over the phone. I’m around though if you think, if you ever want to- to talk. I wanna see you. Call me if you can, Liv. bye.”

Her eyes dart unfocused over her dresser, her mind racing for a second before it slows again, stuck on hon, like the bastard was really going to call her his honey before he caught himself. Except it didn’t sound like he stopped himself. It sounded like he meant to say it, and maybe then he panicked, but something in his subconscious has resorted to pet names for her. The thought alone makes her weak.

Her finger hovers over his number, playing the voicemail back instead of returning the call. She watches her own face in the mirror, dark features softened and then tensed as he rambles. Olivia knows she’s going to have to call him again, that she might even keep calling until he answers. She pulls her damp hair around her neck and starts a loose braid.

—-

In the earliest days of sun and spring, Maddie turns sixteen. The celebration is sweet, if not a little too bright, a performance of levity for her, for her parents, for Olivia. Still, when she lays the golden chain over Eileen’s shoulders, she feels like she has given over something with an honest kind of power in it. She half expects to literally walk in the opposite direction of her car when she leaves the party. She finds herself driving back to the precinct.

—-

Olivia tries not to let on, how her heart skips a beat when she hears him pick up the phone. Elliot has his fun, taking his first opening for a joke before falling quiet at the tender change in her voice. She scrapes a nail over her thigh, feels the rough weave of denim as she speaks. She has so much she wants to say, but it only comes out in pieces and Elliot, somehow (she knows how), doesn’t ever need her to fill in the gaps.

“I knew you’d understand.”

“Oh, I understand. You lost the necklace and now you’re buying time.”

It makes her laugh, and she hopes she isn’t blushing but Christ, she misses him and her cheeks hurt. This time last year he was tossing a paper bag on her desk with that same necklace in it. Not long before that he had held her in his arms three different times on the same case. When he had hugged her goodbye she almost kissed him.

She told Carisi’s cousin the “L” stood for love. That she hadn’t found it yet. Maddie went missing that same day, and now Olivia’s compass hangs around Eileen’s neck. She thinks of healing properties, placebos, and time. She thinks of being guided to Maddie, of the lost girls she has pulled from the darkness this year, of becoming the needle in the pendant, moving with the heart of the wearer. She thinks she is telling him the truth, that it helped, or that she’s getting there.

She really does want the necklace back, eventually. She already misses the weight of it, habitually running a thumb over her (now bare) collarbone a few times in the past hour. Right now, though, Olivia thinks Eileen needs it more. Thinks she can find it by herself, or already has. Happiness, love, truth, steady ground. Just for a second, maybe, until things change again.

Right now, though. She’s got him on the phone and Elliot is laughing too, under his breath, at his own quip or her reaction and she knows exactly what his face looks like right now, does not try to stop herself from picturing his smile.

“I pawned it.” That earns her a nice scratchy laugh.

—-

Maddie Flynn doesn’t go to sleepaway camp that summer, but she learns how to drive and is coming back around to the idea of college outside the city. She sticks to EMDR treatment, but she changes doctors twice before she gets settled. She’s growing her hair long and piercing her ears behind her parents’ back. She doesn’t wake up screaming as much anymore, and she finishes all her meals.

Olivia learns all of this over coffee with Eileen, gently holding her arm as she promises over and over again that it is getting better, that Maddie will be at peace again one day, that all they can do right now is love her patiently. Eileen keeps smiling like she doesn’t quite believe her, but Olivia sees so much less panic in her eyes now.

Right before they part ways, Eileen gives her a crushing hug, launching into her like a kid.

“Keep looking,” she murmurs, quickly clasping the compass necklace behind Olivia’s head, “Look for love everywhere. Dig to the center of the earth, if you can.”

Olivia smiles at her, eyes crinkling under the late July sun. “I will.”

—-

One text, while she’s waiting for her car to cool off.

What are you doing tomorrow night?

His response is immediate, two messages in a row.

Hope I’m cooking you dinner.

Gonna try to earn my necklace cash back.

—-

It’s enough time to primp and preen and work herself up so much she won’t want to go at all. It’s short enough notice that they can both only panic so much. It’s a late dinner, her request, his pleasure, and while she gets ready very fast, she still needed an extra built-in hour to sit on her couch and breathe. Early that morning, Olivia had taken Noah upstate. She tapped her foot through lunch with the McCanns and lied every time they asked about her.

Olivia has wondered about this ridiculous idea of dressing up for Elliot, and where her brain knows he can’t be surprised by anything she does, she still wants him to be. Just a little bit. It’s been a long year. He has stared at her like a small dog when she was wearing t-shirts and suits that didn’t fit, pajamas, dresses meant for someone other than him. She wants to hold his gaze.

She had laid out a deep cherry red sweater and loose jeans. She stares at them now, standing by the foot of her bed with clenched fists at her hips.

It’s only dinner. It’s Elliot. They’re not very likely to leave his apartment.

Olivia turns back to her closet and grabs at a soft, plum-colored dress. She inspects the fabric for only a second before pulling the dress over her head, stretching it around her hips, her thighs. It’s fitted at her chest and falls loose and long over her legs. She cranes her neck and checks for lines, obvious straps or pieces of lace peeking through. She smooths her hands over the dress one more time, and finally settles on it with a slow exhale. She forces herself to do her fastest makeup, brushes and curls the thick strands of hair that fall around her cheekbones, her jawline. She doesn’t think very hard about jewelry, popping in wide gold hoops and recentering the singular necklace.

—-

She leaves ten minutes later than she should, and it relaxes her up until she starts closing in on his apartment. The traffic is reasonable, but she impatiently taps her wheel through it all the same.

Halfway up the stairs to his loft and Olivia remembers he gave her a key. He put it on her kitchen counter on his way out and didn’t say anything about it, just held her gaze for as long as she’d let him. The message was clear - it was there with or without a spare key - trust me, come home to me, be safe with me. And she wanted to, but she couldn’t, then.

Now, she stands right outside his door, lets her breathing even out for a moment, shifting her weight from heel to toe. When she knocks, it’s the quiet one they used to do at the precinct, and she thinks of skittish animals for a second. She’s about to lunge and press his buzzer when she hears clicking in his locks.

Elliot opens the door and just looks at her for a long time, his smile so soft, before he whispers a simple “Hi.”

She breathes out “Hey,” and neither of them move.

She looks him up and down and he lets her, and he looks good, looks like himself in a fading green t-shirt and slate gray sweatpants. She hopes he ate enough while he was under. He looks like he’s been sleeping, a lot, and she hopes that’s a good thing too. He waits for her move to push the door open a little more and she brushes against him on purpose when she walks into his apartment. She kicks her shoes off silently, unceremoniously as he locks the door behind them, and when she turns over her shoulder to peek at him again it doesn’t feel like he’s too close. It should, because she can feel her dress swishing and hitting him, but she lingers still. When Olivia faces him, he extends a hand to take her purse, nonreactive to the weight of it in his fingers. He places it on the bench in the hall, still staring at her. She lets him wrap a hand around her wrist and guide her towards his kitchen, his other hand resting on her waist in a way that makes her heart hammer.

She leans across his island, and Elliot slides her a glass of water that was already on the counter. He smiles shyly and pours himself a new one.

When he finally settles on the opposite side, he’s bent practically in half leaning towards her. He looks nervous, now.

“Wanted to see you when I got back but I- I needed to make sure my head was on straight. I was actually gonna bring you a coffee some-“

“Elliot.” She catches his eyes long enough for his shoulders to relax. He breathes in, slowly, and nods. And waits.

“It’s- I’m just glad you’re back.”

“Yeah,” he nods, “me too.” He flicks his chin up the slightest bit, “you’re wearing it.”

She almost laughs, biting back a grin as her hand flies up to touch it, feel it’s weight on her chest. “Everyday. You knew I would.”

His face softens, and instead of responding he just walks around the counter, hovering close to her.

“I mean you got it back.”

Olivia does laugh, then, “I mean, I couldn’t wait forever.”

Elliot makes a little sound at the back of his throat, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s close enough again that she can look up and tell when he last shaved, can smell his soap and his breath and his sweat.

She takes a breath in, cutting off sharply when he reaches up to touch the pendant. A light brush of his fingertip, then the slightest pressure of his thumb over the face of the compass.

The back of Elliot’s hand is brushing, resting on Olivia’s chest and when he captures the necklace between the pads of his fingers she only wants to let him pull her in. He raises the pendant between them, the chain catching on the fine hairs at the back of her neck, and as she leans in he presses the side of the compass to his lips.

When he lowers it again, Olivia covers his hand with hers and flattens it over the compass at her neck. They hold each other there for what feels like forever. Elliot’s eyes are still that light shining blue, pupils massive and dark.

His lips are soft against hers when she tilts her head. She lets all of the air out of her lungs in the second he kisses her back, and she regains it with a gasp when his mouth moves against hers. Elliot’s hot palm stays on her chest, but now his other hand cups the back of her head, fingers tenderly threading in her hair and she would never let anyone hold her like this but Elliot’s hand is right over her thumping heart, and when she grabs his forearm he groans a little. He breaks away only to say her name, voice breaking, and Olivia strokes his cheeks, his jaw, patient and soft as ever.

He’s got thick fingers wrapped behind her neck, whispering Liv. Liv. Liv. His lips on hers, on her cheeks, her nose, her temple. She’s lost in it so completely, for a second she thinks she could cry at the warmth of him. Olivia grabs his arms again, one hand digging into his shoulder, and kisses Elliot until she knows they’re both dizzy.

His cheeks are a dark red now, and it still sounds impossible for him to get his breathing under control when he drops his hands to her hips.

“I fucking missed you so much, Liv, I-“ he’s kissing her again, teeth scraping over the side of her neck for just a second before he realizes, seemingly, that he can’t say any of it like this.

Elliot falls back a bit, but his nose against hers suddenly feels like the closest they have ever been. “I love you, you know I love you.”

She bites her lip, nodding vigorously, wordlessly. Olivia does know this, has almost always known this, has certainly heard him say it before. Here, though, she can take it, hold it close to her ribs and feel it settle.

She blinks away another rush of tears, smiling with her lips pressed tight together. “You’re just- you’re really gonna have to say it a lot, you know.” She wants so badly to laugh at all of this, but she still swallows hard at the look on Elliot’s face.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I mean I want to. I-” he stops himself with a tiny shake of his head, just murmuring as he presses his cheek against hers, “I love you, Liv, I love you.”

—-

Elliot had pulled a huge pan of vegetables and an equally huge skillet of mac and cheese with bacon out of his oven about 30 seconds before Olivia had sweetly dragged him to bed by the strings on his pants, promising to inhale his carefully crafted meal later.

Hours later, she pulls on those pants and a big gray zip-up to sink into his couch and eat their reheated dinner, resting her legs on Elliot’s lap and thinking briefly about takeout and all-nighters.

“What are you smiling about?” He rests a hand on her leg, lightly stroking with his thumb.

“You already know.” Olivia raises one eyebrow at him, grin never fading.

“Yeah,” Elliot smiles wide, “yeah, I guess I do.”

—-

if you read all of this, thank you for reading.

[paleartist]

Deeply Rooted in Dreams

[theexaltedbride]

Dead Island 2 Slayers X Reader Headcanons.

Amy:

-Always tries to make sure you eat right for a day of surviving the undead. Amy also likes to take the time to show you how to properly limber up and run so you don’t pull a muscle during an attack or a retreat from the undead.

-Amy isn’t afraid to let you touch her prosthetic leg, so long as you ask nicely and don’t tug on it.

-When things get tough, Amy has a thousand little pick-me-up phrases and feel good mottos she can give you that she’s said to herself many times.

-When fighting he undead Amy likes to hit and run, picking the zombies down one by one (Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee). But she will go all out if she spots you being cornered or pushed too hard by the swarm.

Bruno:

-Will always compliment your music choices even if he doesn’t actually like them, and is always the first one to suggest blaring music loudly when you find a working car and can drive around the zombies. His main choice seems to be some song called “Stay Alive’ which he was playing on his phone before the plane crash.

-Phone is now full of selfies with you, but only the ones that make you look good and got the right filters on, so everyone can see you as he sees you.

-Bruno is not the most gun savvy person and tends to shoot it gangsta style, if you can teach him the right way to use one (especially proper gun-safety) he will appreciate it, especially after the two of you start stacking Zeds left and right.

-Promises that once this is all over, you and him are gonna hit it big on the internet. He’s gonna make a song about you.

Carla:

-After swearing so much at the undead, or at dickish survivors, she decided to teach you Spanish, starting with every swear she knows and even some new ones. But when you are alone together, she will also teach you by whispering sweet (or even dirty) things in Spanish to you and telling you to translate it.

-Once punched out another survivor for getting too handsy with you, and afterwards will start teaching you how to properly fight with someone.

-Will always offer a comforting touch, even if she can be a little rough around the edges. Gives the best hugs out of the group, but don’t tell anyone.

-Is going to teach you to ride a motorcycle, so you can get the same rush as she does from her bike, but also so you can get away quickly if things go bad.

Dani:

-Will teach you how to drink like you mean it, but is willing to start with the weaksauce stuff if you are hesitant to drink during the apocalypse.

-Can play up her accent if you want, but it tends to happen when she gets very angry, to the point even she doesn’t know what she said.

-Is constantly trying to decide what kind of tattoos would look good on you, and promising you it doesn’t hurt.

-Promises you that if you both survive this, she’s gonna make you part of the Blood Faeries.

Jacob:

-Normally doesn’t like to put his cigars out for anyone, but will do so for you. If only because he wants to make a good impression.

-Loves clearing out, fancy, mansions in LA of zombies and turning them into a safehouse where you and him can have a great time together just eating the food, watching the movies and raiding anything there for some fun. Its important to keep a happy mindset during the apocalypse.

-When raiding for supplies, he will go out of his way to find things he knows you like and bring them back, which is slowly turning the both of you into loot goblins and packrats. You’re gonna need a bigger bag or storehouse for all the stuff you’ve picked up.

- Even when he’s feeling down, he forces himself to smile through it, but the smile becomes much more genuine when you are around.

Ryan:

-Genuinely afraid of all the undead overwhelming LA, but will put on a brave face so that you aren’t scared. Eventually he won’t have to fake it, and will genuinely be brave, especially with you around.

-You genuinely thought he was a real firefighter, until you noticed his helmet was a toy. He loves going over that story and sometimes sharing his craziest stories from his career as a male stripper.

-Wants to survive the apocalypse and show you off to his brother and boast about how badass you are for having survived alongside him.

-Will only pull out his old stripper dance moves when in a safezone, and only if he’s 110% sure no one will barge in.

All purpose Headcannons:

-They will love you regardless of if you are ‘Immune’/a ‘Numen’, or not. They care about you for who you are, not what you are. And if the other group of (evil?) Numen try to step between them and you, then those bastards have another thing coming.

-They tend to let you handle the radio calls when it involves civilians in danger, or them trying to sell their ‘Hero Services’ out to any survivors in LA.

-Movie Night back at Emma’s mansion is the highlight of the week now, with everyone voting over what movie to watch. There tends to be a trend of the longer movies being chosen, so that the group can forget about the chaos outside a little longer.

-The excitement you sometimes show when you nerd out over something is also a welcome distraction and has led to in depth nerdy debates even in the middle of fighting against swarms.

-The group is slowly turning Patton’s bunker into a second home/safehouse for survivors.

-None of them can decide on a group name for themselves.

-If the group encounters other survivors they feel are dangerous, they might start closing ranks around you subconciously to keep you safe.

-If you have loved ones outside of the Quarantine Zone, they will do their best to make sure they know you are okay and will be taking care of you.

-Someone is gonna make a scrapbook of all the selfies you’ve collectively taken around famous landmarks or memorable moments.

-They totally stopped to check in to see if your favorite actor/actress is still alive/safe.

-Sometimes you all just sit and watch the stars from the roof of Emma’s mansion, and its in these moments, together, safe, and united as a group, that you all truly feel alive.