#mY FIRST EDIT FOR THESE BOIS THAT ISN'T PART OF A CHALLENGE

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Devilish Desires - 3/8

Dangerous Temptations, Irresistible Touch 🎞️❤️‍🔥🌹⚔️🖤💻🖱️

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!OC (They/Them)

Summary: Logan, typically guarded and dominant, finds himself captivated by E, a mysterious being with a devilish allure and ancient presence that challenges his control.

Context: This story unfolds 'within' the "Days of Future Past" new timeline, during Logan's early years as a history teacher at Xavier’s School. It’s set well before his consciousness from the original timeline reconnects with him in 2023, as seen at the film’s end.

Content Warnings (for the whole story): Smut 18+ (Dry humping, Edging, Unprotected p in v.) - Dom!Logan into Sub!Logan - Pet Names (Good boy, pretty boy, pet, pup, amongst others…) reversed age gap (Logan is younger) - OC Notes: Established name, backstory, powers, fighting style, female body but gender fluid character (Logan misgender them at first because he doesn’t know, even in the descriptions) - Mention of other character from the MCU and subtle references to the comics for flavor (not mandatory to understand what is happening) - Flash back and mention of past trauma - Very quick mentions of drugs - Fluff with Dark Undertones: Emotional tension and possessive affection - Worship Themes: Religious imagery, reverent language and awe - Ancient Mysticism: References to otherworldly or demonic presence - Mental Health: Power dynamics, personal vulnerabilities - Trope: Rivals to lovers.

I'm back after 10 years of iatus and fairly new to how things are done on tumblr now, so sorry if I missed any warnings. Also english isn't my first language so there might be typos/weird sentences...

Notes: Got very inspired by sub!Logan and repeated listening of "Between wind and water" by Hael. Cover made with canva from an idea I got from this post. If you know who made the picture, tell me so I can credit them - Click on the divider to find the creator. Also this was meant to be an imagine turned into a full story. Just so you know, some chapters are very short, other are long. I'm in the process of editing/writing/rewriting parts so I'll post a chapter everytime I have one fully edited. This chapter was hard to wrestle with, but I won! Mention of legal stuff but I'm no lawyer so there might be inconsistencies ^^" Also brace yourself, power shift incoming.

Need some music? I've got you

Previously: in Devilish Desires

Chapters: 3/8

Word Count: 7.1K / 60K+ for now

Sunlight filtered through the wide windows of Charles' office, casting a warm glow over the mahogany desk and polished floors. Logan paused in the doorway, feeling the familiar tension coil through him even before he fully entered. His gut twisted as he took in the sight of E leaning casually against the desk, one hip propped up, her head already turned toward the door, watching him approach. The calm, focused look on her face set him on edge, like she was always one step ahead, pulling unseen strings. Every time he saw her, it felt like she dug her claws deeper into his space, into him, without even trying.

"Logan, come in." The professor’s voice was warm, though there was a hint of tiredness to it. "We were just finishing up. Have a seat."

Logan ignored the invitation, his arms crossing over his chest as his eyes locked on E. “What’s this about?”

Charles gestured to the papers on his desk. "As you know, the school is growing, and with that comes more scrutiny from the government." He glanced at E, then back to Logan. "That’s why we worked on some contracts—to make everything as official and seamless as possible. We want things above board, so no one has any reason to be suspicious of us."

Logan’s pulse quickened as Charles spoke, each word digging into a place he’d thought had scarred over but never truly healed. He could feel the weight of the documents between them, a weight pressing down on his chest, squeezing until he couldn’t breathe. Just the mention of those papers, the mere sight of them, was like a trigger pulled—snapping him back to shadows he’d fought to bury. Contracts meant control; control meant deceit. Old instincts roared awake, instincts that told him to fight, to claw his way free. His mind twisted back, unbidden, to the sharp crack of a pen against paper, his name signed under false pretenses. Faces flashed before him, cold and detached, each one using him as if he were nothing more than sharpened adamantium, each one an anchor dragging him back to glimpses of a past he desperately tried to escape, yet crave to piece back together at the same time.

Memories slammed together—soldiers' cries, the dead weight of bodies, his own silent rage coiled like barbed wire around his gut. Promises broken, betrayals… He could barely register the room around him, the walls that meant safety and acceptance. All he felt now was the past closing in, like a cage—restrictive, suffocating. And then a single thought broke through, a rough mantra, ringing into his head, so loud it pulled him from the spiral: “Today is victory over yourself of yesterday…”

Logan blinked hard, shaking his head as he forced himself back to his senses, the slow ache of his claws tearing through his knuckles breaking through the fog. With gritted teeth, he pulled them back before they became visible. After a short sigh, his eyes flicked from the papers to E, then to Charles, his scowl deepening. “This is bullshit. I’m not some soldier you can pin down with paperwork, Chuck.” His voice was low, the ghost of past betrayals still burning in his chest as his hand clenched tightly at his side. “I don’t belong to anyone, and I sure as hell don’t need to be tied up in a contract like this. I’ve been here long enough, and I’m not about to start following rules that don’t make sense to me.”

Charles clasped his hands together on his desk, his voice soft but firm, trying to ease the distress he saw in his friend’s behavior. “Logan, you’re right,” he validated, calm yet earnest. “You’re no soldier here—you’re a mentor, and you’ve proven that. But this contract is necessary. You know the risks; despite Raven’s actions, the government is still watching mutants closely after all these years. These contracts are for the teachers’ protection, for the students, and for the school itself.”

His expression was calm, deliberate, like he was teaching a class. Logan could see the weight of responsibility on Charles's shoulders, a reminder of the burdens they all carried. “It’s a formality to ensure you’re recognized as part of the staff. If they start asking questions, this contract might be our best defense.”

He held Logan’s gaze, the tension building in the air between them. In a quieter tone, he added, “This isn’t about control; it’s about security. If something were to happen, this paperwork could mean the difference between staying under the radar and drawing unwanted attention.” Logan felt a flicker of unease at the thought but pushed it aside, his feral pride refusing to let him show any weakness in front of E.

He shook his head, the tension in his shoulders thickening with each word. “A formality? Security? It’s a damn leash, that’s what it is! And I know she’s behind this.” His tone was sharp, the accusation clear as his chin jerked toward E, his eyes still on Charles.

E raised a brow, a slight smirk dancing at the corner of their lips. “They,” they corrected smoothly, their voice slipping in like silk over a blade.

Logan’s eyes snapped to her face, his brows knitting in confusion, anger swirling in his glare. “What?”

“You said ‘she,’” E explained, their tone lilting with amusement, not even flinching under the weight of his gaze. “I prefer ‘they.’”

For a second, Logan blinked, caught off guard. The shift in their demeanor—so detached, almost playful—disarmed him. It was a rare response to his fury, and it chipped away at the anger bubbling in his chest. He gave a quick, gruff nod, like a student getting a slap on the wrist for falling into a master’s trap. “Right. They.”

His lips pressed into a firm line, the weight of the situation settling like a stone in his gut. Yet, that primal part of him refused to fold so easily. “But that ain’t the point. The point is, I’m not signing a damn thing before I’ve read it. I’m not some teacher that punches a clock. You know me, Charles.”

Charles nodded, like he expected this. “I do, my friend. And I don’t want to force you into anything you’re uncomfortable with. But it’s necessary. If you’re going to keep mentoring, you need to be recognized officially as part of the school’s staff.”

Logan’s jaw clenched as his gaze flicked from the papers back to E, who hadn’t taken their eyes off him. His fingers twitched, itching to pull at the collar of his shirt, the weight of the contract already tightening around his neck.

A metallic muffled sound came from under E’s jacket’s sleeve as they shifted, leaning into their stance with one hand on Charles’ desk, the other resting on their waist and Logan’s eyes were drawn, almost against his will, to the subtle curve of their chest beneath the deep red blouse. The top few buttons were undone, revealing just a hint of cleavage, a thin golden chain that held a delicate white pearl, resting against their skin. For a second, his thoughts strayed before he forced his gaze back up, catching the faint hint of their dark horns just peeking from under their hair—a sharp reminder of exactly who he was dealing with.

“It’s just official paperwork, Logan,” they said, voice smooth with a playful lilt, enjoying the ripple of energy they felt from him as his thoughts wandered, though their expression stayed composed. “I can help you with the legal mumbo jumbo if you’re having trouble. I’d be happy to give you a private lesson… walk you through all the fine print, personally.”

Logan’s cheeks flushed, just for a second, barely noticeable beneath his hardened exterior, but it was there. E could feel the familiar tingle coming from him, that want simmering beneath his anger. His jaw tightened, fists clenching at his sides, and he shot them a glare, willing the heat away as if it’d been nothing. “I ain’t havin’ trouble with anything,” he growled, his voice low and rough. But E simply watched him with an amused, knowing glint in their eye, a faint laugh catching under their breath.

Charles, observing the exchange, raised an eyebrow, eyes twinkling with the slightest bit of humor. Clearing his throat gently, he spoke up in to ease the rising tension. “E, let’s not push too hard. Logan’s cautious, but we need to find a compromise. And Logan, I’m afraid that until we reach an agreement that satisfies both sides, I’ll have to ask you to step down from your teaching position. I can’t risk the school’s safety.”

The words hit like a punch to the gut. Logan stiffened, his fists clenching harder, knuckles now white. Stepping down? It felt like an ultimatum, but Charles wasn’t wrong. The safety of the school had always come first. E’s gaze softened just slightly, though he could still see that flicker of amusement in their eyes. “You’re right, Professor. My apologies.” They turned to Logan, offering a nod. “I got carried away—it was unprofessional of me. I understand where you’re coming from, and I’m willing to collaborate with you so we may find a solution that works for both parties.”

As E pulled away into their composed demeanor, he felt the thread coiling in his gut relaxing, leaving him more room to breathe.

Logan wasn’t used to them backing down that easily, and it threw him for a second. He shifted, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, his faint scowl deepening as he muttered, “Huh?” It was as if a switch had flipped, and he couldn’t help but wonder what their angle was. “Okay?”

And E could have left it there, but something inside urged them to add, a spark of teasing in their gaze, “After all, you’re not one to play by anyone else’s rules. So why not help shape the ones that work for you?”

Logan shot them a sharp look, their words sinking in slowly. He hated how they got under his skin, how easily they seemed to read him. But they weren’t wrong, either.

He took a breath, unclenching his hands, though he still felt like a cornered animal. “Fine. We’ll work something out. But I’m not signing anything that tries to box me in, Charles. I need enough room to be me.”

Charles’s expression softened in relief, giving a small nod of approval. “Of course, my friend. Take your time—I want you to feel comfortable with this. We’ll reconvene when you’re both ready.” He paused, glancing at the papers, before adding, “In the meantime, I’ve got other work that requires my attention.”

Logan barely registered the Professor dismissing them, his mind still tangled in the strange feeling of the interaction. E pushed off the desk gracefully, straightening the black jacket of their suit before gathering their things with practiced ease. When they finally stepped out of Charles’ office, Logan followed them out into the hallway. They walked in silence for a beat, the air between them still buzzing, though less tense than before. Yet, their scent still lingered—smoky, with a hint of spice—reminding him of their presence. And E, in turn, felt the simmering conflict inside him—the push and pull of resistance and attraction. It wasn’t enough to satiate them, but it would have to do for now, even if it left them wanting more. They allowed a brief, satisfied smile to ghost across their lips before tucking it away, resuming a more reserved expression.

“When do you want to go over the documents?” E’s voice was professional once more, all traces of their earlier playfulness gone, though a flicker of something else remained behind their eyes, like they were holding back.

Logan glanced over at them, still surprised by how quickly they’d shifted gears. This side of them—focused, efficient—was easier to handle. He could deal with this.

“Tomorrow, maybe. Got some time around three.”

E nodded, a hint of consideration in their gaze despite the reluctance in his tone. “I could make that work. We’ll go over everything, step by step. No surprises.”

The calm confidence they exuded kept catching him off guard, and against his better judgment, he found himself watching them differently. Was there more beneath that troublemaker act they put on around him?

E must’ve felt his gaze because they turned slightly, offering a small, almost sincere smile. “I’ll see you then.” Their voice was all business, but a hint of warmth slipped through—without the usual edge of teasing.

Logan grunted in response, but as they walked away, something lingered at the edge of his mind. Yes, there might be more to them than the predatory front they’d shown since they met. And maybe, just maybe, they weren’t as much trouble as he thought.

Or perhaps it was a ploy to lure him in, to make him relax and step willingly into their web. In any case, he wasn’t about to let his guard down. Not yet.

The library was quiet in the mid-afternoon light when Logan arrived, the subtle scent of aged paper and polished wood mixing with the now too familiar blend of spice wrapped in smoke. He pushed the door open with a soft creak, eyes immediately scanning the room, and sure enough, there they were—already seated at one of the large tables, surrounded by hefty open books, scattered documents, and a legal pad filled with meticulous notes.

E barely glanced up as he approached, their focus sharp on the papers spread out before them. The soft scratching of their pen on the smooth surface filled the air, the fluidity of their movements mesmerizing, almost hypnotic. Every action was deliberate, from the graceful lines they traced to the calm demeanor they carried.

Logan stood there for a moment, taking it all in—the precision and quiet focus they exuded. He couldn’t help but notice the neatness of their work: each point laid out clearly, with little diagrams and annotations. It wasn’t just thorough; it was methodical yet beautiful, almost like an art form. Even their handwriting, flowing effortlessly across the page—a blend of sharp angles and elegant curves—was damn near perfect.

He cleared his throat, and E, still writing, held up a finger, brows furrowed in focus. The gentle chime of their bracelets—three in total, one gold and two red—sounded as they moved, the soft music an elegant counterpoint to the silence. They needed to finish that thought, not wanting to lose their concentration. Logan waited for a few heartbeats, struck by the command in their motion, a powerful yet silent order that stoked the embers they had nestled in his chest during the last couple of weeks. When E finally looked up, their gaze met his with calm professionalism, but there was a flash of something else—an interest that sharpened their eyes, just for a heartbeat, before it vanished.

"You're early," they noted, their voice soft but steady, carrying just enough weight to catch his attention. "I wasn’t expecting you for another…” They quickly glanced at the delicate golden watch on their wrist. “… half hour, at least." There was a pause, and E gestured toward the chair on the other side of the table. "Please, sit."

Logan obeyed reluctantly, still unsettled by the way they were behaving—cold, detached, like they were someone else entirely. The tension between them had loosened so much he could hardly feel it, as if it might vanish entirely if he tried to reach for it. “Figured I’d get this over with,” he mumbled, his eyes not leaving their face.

A small smile played at the corner of their lips, and they flipped one of the hefty books closed to make room between them, before pushing a section of the contract toward him. "Well, I’ve already gone through most of the legal terms and highlighted the parts you might find concerning. If something still doesn’t sit right with you, we can discuss… adjustments."

Logan raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been busy.”

“I don’t like wasting time on work.” Their eyes flicked to the stack of notes they had assembled, before neatly setting them aside. “Let’s just get through this.”

Logan picked up the contract, flipping through the pages slowly. The neat little annotations caught his eye—small, concise memorandums in that same precise handwriting on flashy sticky notes, guiding him through each clause. As much as he hated to admit it, the thoroughness was impressive. “You really did all this?”

E leaned back slightly in their chair, crossing their arms, a faint smile playing at the corners of their lips, like they were enjoying something only they understood, and he felt a subtle pull inside, a tension stirring. “I told you I’d help you with the legal stuff, didn’t I?”

Logan’s eyes drifted to the pages again, unable to ignore how… perfect their handwriting was. Every sentence was clear, fluid, each letter delicate, intentional. They hadn’t just scrawled down information in a rush—not only they’d taken the time to make it legible, but it also felt like they had crafted something meant to be appreciated, drawn with careful control, patience, like each and every stroke mattered.

“You write like a damn artist,” he muttered despite himself, half impressed, half irked by the precision of it all.

E’s soft chuckle was barely audible, but he caught the faintest hint of satisfaction in their expression as they watched him linger on the page. They were absorbing his reaction, almost savoring it, letting his admiration wash over them like a silent, steady current. “Years of practice,” they replied, eyes glinting with a subtle satisfaction. “Didn’t expect you to notice details like that.”

He grunted in response, still staring at the page before flipping to another section. “I don’t miss much.”

E leaned forward again, the light jingle of their bracelets accompanying the movement as they tapped a finger on one of the highlighted paragraphs. “This part, in particular, is important. It’s a non-disclosure clause. You might want to pay special attention to that.”

Logan followed the motion of their finger, noting the cleanly filed nail that glimmered faintly under the light—maybe some sort of transparent polish? Even that was meticulously done, and the thought made something simmer in him before he blinked it away, refocusing on the contract. “So I can’t say anything about… what, exactly?”

“About the students. The curriculum. The specific ways the school operates,” they clarified, their tone even and clear, leaving no room for confusion, even as a subtle ripple passed between them. “It’s a precaution to ensure no one leaks sensitive information.”

Logan scowled, the idea gnawing at him. “I get why, but it feels like a muzzle.”

E’s gaze softened slightly as they leaned back again, folding their hands neatly on the table in front of them. The metallic sound of their bracelets chimed softly, a delicate accent to the motion. “It can feel that way, yes, but it’s standard for any organization handling confidential matters, especially one like this school. It's about protecting everyone here—especially you and the kids. Though, we can amend the wording if that’ll make you more… comfortable.”

Logan studied their face, taking in the sincerity behind their words. For once, it didn’t feel like they were toying with him or trying to play some angle. They were just doing their job—and a damn good one at that.

He exhaled sharply, leaning back in his chair. “I don’t like bein’ locked into something I don’t trust.”

E’s eyes softened as they nodded slowly, their expression understanding. “That’s fair. We can tweak the language so it’s more gray, more aligned with what you’re comfortable with. To give you room to adjust? You don’t have to feel trapped, Logan.”

Logan’s hand rubbed the back of his neck as he sighed. “You’re makin’ it real hard for me to argue, you know that?”

Their smile was faint, their fingers gently drumming on the wooden desk between them. “I’m not trying to make it harder. Just easier for you to see that this isn’t about control. It’s about protecting what you’re building here.”

Logan dropped his eyes to the contract again, that tight, familiar knot in his chest loosening just a bit. He didn’t trust easy—but they were making a damn good case. He couldn’t deny that. He could see how carefully they’d worked through the details, the amount of care they’d put into making this whole thing understandable. It was… reassuring, in a way. As much as he hated to admit it, they had a point. It wasn’t about locking him into anything—it was about making sure everything stayed secure. The kids came first, always.

He met their gaze again, something shifting between them. He still wasn’t ready to trust completely, but at least they were giving him a reason to reconsider. “Alright,” he muttered, almost grudgingly. “Let’s go through it.”

E smiled—this time, it was genuine. Not playful, not teasing, just… genuine, content. They slid a few more papers toward him, their focus back on the work, but Logan couldn’t help but notice the shift in their energy. As they started explaining the finer points, guiding him through each legal term with that same sharp professionalism, he couldn’t help but admire the way they handled things. They were focused, sharp, and professional.

Maybe this was the side of them he could start to respect.

For now.

They’d been at it for hours, bending and reshaping the terms until each clause balanced protection with freedom. E kept their demeanor professional, drawing on every ounce of restraint to keep their voice even and their gaze measured, ignoring the familiar hunger snapping at their focus now and then. And the more they worked, the more they could sense Logan beginning to relax, perhaps appreciating this side of them—this businesslike efficiency that gave him room to breathe, rather than the tension they used to stir in him. He was still sharp and guarded around them, but in the subtle shifts of his body language, they sensed they were both easing into a more comfortable exchange, his trust inching closer as they tweaked the terms to help him maintain his independence.

In his careful consideration of each clause, they saw how deeply he valued his autonomy. His desire to protect the kids and guide them through a brutal world was unmistakable, yet he seemed determined to do it on his own terms. Watching him was like seeing a reflection of their own drive: the same visceral need to resist being anyone’s pawn, to forge a path where people like them weren’t turned into weapons or tools for the powerful. E knew what it was to navigate that treacherous line, to have allies rather than be a pawn, to be indispensable but never owned. Becoming a lawyer had finally allowed them to create partnerships, to protect their independence in a way they hadn’t had in the past.

They looked at Logan now, the way he was part of something great without letting it absorb him, and felt a twinge of resonance. It was like looking into a rippling, distorted mirror: his methods protective where theirs were persuasive, his presence blunt where theirs was all charm and deliberate control. But that difference made sense, considering their mutations. He had claws; they had…this. This carefully wielded hold over emotions. Had they been born with claws, would they have protected instead of manipulated? They weren’t sure.

Their gaze drifted from the paper to his handsome face as they sank into those thoughts, the realization dawning—slow and unexpected—that he wasn’t simply a source of energy, or the toy they’d wanted him to be at first. He was a potential ally in a way few others could be. Someone who might amplify their strength instead of being drained. Not just a meal to be consumed but something rarer—a piece that, in its own strange way, completed the picture of who they could be. As if they were two sides of the same coin.

Lost in thought, they almost missed the slight cough as Logan cleared his throat, his voice breaking through their haze.

“Need a break?” he asked, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, catching them just off guard enough that they had to recompose themselves, reassemble that mask over their features before their thoughts slipped any further into the open.

“No, I’m good,” they replied, eyes turning back to the papers in front of them. “We’re almost done, anyway.” But as they looked away, a thought slipped in—a terrifying, persistent thought.

What if, just for a few moments, they let him see behind the surface?

The more they considered it, the more it tugged at them. Curiosity twisted into need—a need to be seen fully, not just for what they could do or the games they played, but for every scarred, layered piece that made them who they were. Logan was unique, after all. He understood the weight of living too many lifetimes, of carrying too many pasts. Maybe he, of all people, could handle the person they kept buried underneath.

They wrestled with the urge, every instinct resisting, their armor honed by years of experience and necessity. Something deep inside warned it was dangerous—unnecessary. But then again… maybe not. Because the thought kept tugging, whispering that maybe, just maybe, it could be something greater. A partnership that didn’t hinge on pretense or servitude but on something raw and real, something powerful.

Their gaze returned to him, lingering. He was relaxed now, waiting, not pushing. And maybe that’s what finally broke their resolve.

“You know, Logan,” they began, the words slipping out, edged with a subtle amusement that curled at the corners of their mouth. “You’re… an interesting case.” Their tone was light, but Logan could feel the weight behind it, something sharper. “In a world full of people pursuing causes, you stand apart. You’re here, fighting for something, part of a team, a mentor—yet you keep a step back, like you’re in it but always on the edge.”

They took their time, choosing their words carefully. “Not interested in becoming anyone’s weapon. Not about to let anyone make a puppet out of you.” They paused, their smile fading as their peculiar eyes locked with his, earnest, with a hint of challenge. “I respect that about you.”

Logan’s expression shifted, his relaxed posture tensing as he regarded them with a sharp glance. Crossing his arms, he studied their face, searching for their angle. There was no mistaking the twinkle in their gaze, a glint that almost dared him to see through it. He furrowed his brows, but his voice was steady. “Yeah? Well, I don’t dance on anybody’s strings. If I’m fighting for something, it’s because it matters to me. And I do it my way.”

He watched as something flickered in their eyes—a veil lingering for a few heartbeats, like his words had pulled something deep from the shadows of their mind. When their gaze met his again, it was steadier, as if a quiet understanding had slipped between them. “I get that,” they replied, voice low, the words hanging in the air with a quiet finality.

Logan studied them, suspicious of this sudden transparency. “So what? You’re saying you’re the same?” he asked, his tone guarded, almost testing.

“Maybe.” Their mouth curved in a smirk, one that seemed to bare their teeth as much as it smiled. “Let’s say I’ve had experience balancing independence with… affiliations.” They leaned forward slightly, the light metallic sound of their bracelets chiming with the motion, drawing his attention and making his senses sharpen. Their gaze glinted with something that hinted at danger, at control. “When people see power, they get ideas. They get greedy. Sometimes, we have to show them who’s in charge—decide where the lines are, or blur them if it suits us.”

Logan’s brows knit, eyes narrowing. “So, you’re tellin’ me you dance along the line but won’t let anyone hold your strings.” He leaned back, gaze sharp. “How’s that working out for you?”

They gave a light shrug, a glimmer of amusement in their eyes. “You’d be surprised. Charles, for one, respects it—but you already know that.” They smirked, as if holding back a bigger truth. “There are others, too. Equally powerful… Stark, for instance.”

Logan’s eyebrows shot up at the name, genuine interest breaking through his cautious demeanor, crumbs of energy swallowed by E’s greedy hunger. “Stark? As in the Tony Stark?” He couldn’t hide the hint of curiosity in his tone and leaned in, almost imperceptibly. “You actually know the guy?”

They lifted their brows, a small pout on their lips, playing down the significance of it with an offhand shrug, though Logan noticed a spark of pride in their eyes. “Worked with him, actually. Fresh out of law school. I had a friend—blind attorney, good guy—who mentioned Stark needed someone sharp to help… clean up a few things. Secure patents, keep his tech out of the wrong hands.” They kept it vague, partly out of client confidentiality and partly knowing that Logan wasn’t likely interested in legal specifics.

“Not exactly glamorous, but it was an exhilarating start,” they added, the flicker of pride now shining in their voice. “Let’s just say that navigating the minefield of a billionaire’s reputation certainly kept things interesting. And it was good for the notoriety.”

Flecks of emotion brushed against something deep within E—a faint thrill they quickly stifled but couldn’t entirely ignore—as Logan muttered something under his breath, a note of respect edging his tone. He’d always seen Stark as the kind of guy who didn’t trust anyone but himself—and maybe his assistant, or whatever she was now. “Bet that kept you busy.”

A chuckle escaped them, eyes glinting as the soft chime of their bracelets accompanied the sound. “Busy? He kept me on my toes. The man’s got a mind like wildfire; it was a challenge keeping up. But it was… refreshing.” They leaned back, an almost nostalgic look slipping over their face. “I guess it taught me to walk the line, to make a difference without being tied down.”

Logan’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully, intrigued despite himself. The story felt like a glimpse into the puzzle of their past. “So how’d you end up here?” he asked, his curiosity piqued. “Not that I’m sayin’ this place is a downgrade or anything,” he added with a smirk, resting his arms on the table.

They sensed his interest like a pulse, faint but unmistakable. It seeped into them, stirring that familiar, alluring rush, and they let out a soft laugh, an edge of amusement in their eyes. “Did you know Charles and Stark held a gala a few months back to fund the school’s new equipment?”

Logan nodded, some recognition flitting across his face. “I remember hearing about it. Charity thing, wasn’t it?”

“Exactly.” Their voice stayed casual, but their eyes sparkled with the thrill of memory. “That’s where I met Charles.” Their gaze flicked back to him, pausing just long enough to let the moment breathe. “We got along right away. He needed someone to navigate the legalities and ensure the school’s mission stayed protected. A few conversations later, and here I am.” Their eyes held his, a glimmer of interest that wasn’t easily brushed aside, as his curiosity continued to fuel something deep within them.

Logan could feel it too—a pull he couldn’t resist, a delicate pressure building inside him, different from the sharp pull of their first exchanges. This was smoother, quieter, sinking in with each new glimpse he got of E’s story, drawing him in until pulling back wasn’t an option. He sensed the quiet power behind everything they revealed, and it stirred something deeper in him—a mix of respect, intrigue, and the surprising comfort of recognition, that kept the tension going.

He leaned back, crossing his arms again, a smirk tugging at his lips. “So, you just go wherever the cause suits you, huh?” His voice held a challenge underlined by curiosity. “If Stark showed up again tomorrow, you’d be right back in his corner?”

E nodded, unfazed by the edge in his tone. “If his goals align with mine? Yes. Of course I’d work with him again! Without a second thought! Same goes for Charles.” Their gaze softened, a glimmer of conviction breaking through their usually controlled demeanor. “I want to be part of something that matters, Logan.”

Logan studied them, catching just how much they meant it. He’d known E wasn’t anyone’s puppet, but now he could see they weren’t waiting around for someone to hand them a cause, either. They were carving out their own path—fluid, adaptable, going wherever their instincts took them. And he found himself respecting that: their drive, mixed with that fierce independence. Hell, he could relate to it—maybe even admire it a little.

E felt it, the ripple of his respect, like a quiet current feeding into them. For all their control, a spark of satisfaction slipped through their gaze, their mask almost slipping as they met his eyes. His admiration, rare and guarded, felt potent—dangerously so. The energy coursed through them, lingering like a hidden pulse beneath their skin. They shifted slightly, regaining composure before his steady gaze could pierce too deeply.

They looked calm, in control, continuing their previous thought. “I’m loyal to a cause.” Then, their eyes took on a sharper edge, something deeper flickering beneath the surface. “But I’ll never let myself be chained to anyone ever again.”

There was a flash of anger, fierce and unyielding, sparking in their gaze. The quiet chime of their bracelets sounded as they leaned forward, their voice steady but intense. “There’s too much to do, too many ways to make a difference—like what you do here with these kids.”

Logan didn’t miss the brief fire of fury that had slipped through the cracks in their cool confidence, just enough to reveal a scar, raw and unhealed. They didn’t merely have a preference for freedom; it was a need, born from something that had burned them hard and left its mark. That kind of wound didn’t heal easy—he’d know.

He held their gaze, his expression softening with a rare flicker of understanding. E might play at being dangerous and unpredictable, but he was beginning to see past the games, past the mischief. Beneath it all, they weren’t half as threatening as they liked to seem—not to him, anyway. And now he wondered if their determination to make a difference came from more than just ambition. Maybe they were out here carving paths so no one else would have to walk through the fire alone.

Just as quickly, E’s eyes narrowed, the hint of vulnerability vanishing as they pulled themselves back. Their lips curved into a knowing smirk, that easy, predatory edge sliding into place. “What’s with the look, Logan?” they purred, voice rich with playful menace. “Didn’t think I’d have you figured out that quickly?”

He tilted his head, a low chuckle rolling out as his eyes held steady, watching them with newfound clarity. “Long way from that, sweetheart,” he replied, his voice as rough as the smile he wore. His stare cut through their guarded expression, tracing that hidden spark they were still trying to shield. “But I’ve seen enough to figure out there’s a hell of a lot more goin’ on with you that what you let on.”

They scoffed, dismissive as ever, though Logan’s steady gaze didn’t miss the faint, almost imperceptible shift in their eyes, the way they lingered on him just a second too long. They were good at playing the part; he could give them that. And hell, he had to respect it—the way they held their ground, defiant but calm, ready to take on whatever came next. But he’d caught a glimpse behind their guard now—just enough to give him a way in, a thread he could pull if he wanted, evening the power balance between them. A hint of a smirk tugged at his lips; they’d shown him more than they intended, and he planned on playing that to his advantage.

E met his stare, the faintest crease of tension at the edge of their mouth as they spoke. “There’s not much going on with me,” they said smoothly, though their tone carried an edge, a warning, like a line drawn firmly in the sand. “At best, you’ll see someone who’s lived long enough to know that, at some point, we’re just the sum of our own burdens—regrets, pain, and the constant battle to find a place in a world that sees us as either weapon or threat.” They shrugged, gaze cooling as if daring him to contradict them. “I know you know what I mean.”

Logan’s mouth quirked, and he offered a subtle nod. Oh, he knew. He knew that weight, the feeling of being something both feared and useful, but he also saw how tightly they held onto that defensive edge, like armor too important to set aside. And it made sense. If they’d been through even half of what he had, especially as a woman with power, that sharpness was more than just for show—it was a primal instinct born from necessity.

“So, you play the part of the predator, huh?” he asked, his voice casual, almost challenging. “Gotta keep everyone on their toes, or they might see more than you want ‘em to?”

Their gaze hardened slightly, something flickering before they smoothed it over. “It’s survival, hun,” they replied, tone measured with a hint of sarcasm, the nickname sharp on their lips. Their fingers moved up to toy with the delicate golden chain around their neck, the single white pearl shifting gently between their fingertips. “I wasn’t raised to be anyone’s prey. I’ve always been powerful in a way, even before my true nature revealed itself. Living as a mutant in this world means learning to navigate perceptions—people don’t always take well to what they don’t understand. You know that too. So, yes, most of the time, I have to play the predator. It’s how I keep my place in this society.”

Their eyes gleamed, that familiar guarded edge slipping back into place, like steel settling into a sheath. “And maybe it’s the only way I know how.”

The words settled between them, carrying an honesty that almost surprised him. Beneath the mischief and sharpness, he could see the echoes of past battles that had molded them into someone who walked the line between danger and glamor, between freedom and guarded solitude.

“Doesn’t it get exhausting?” he asked, tone light but edged enough to make it clear he wasn’t just making conversation. “Playin’ that part all the time, keepin’ everyone at arm’s length?”

For a split second, something flickered across their face—an almost imperceptible crack—but they smoothed it over with a cool smile. “It’s only exhausting if you don’t know how to handle it,” they replied, looking down at him with a hint of mockery, as if to suggest he wouldn’t know. Leaning back, they reclaimed control of the moment. “Besides, I didn’t walk this path to blend in with the crowd. The world makes demands. I learned early that if I wanted a future worth having, I’d have to shape it myself—alone.”

They straightened with a subtle chime of their bracelets, a glint of pride in their stance, fierce and unyielding, making Logan’s respect tick up a notch, teasing E’s hunger with a rich, electric thrill. They felt it brush against their senses, fueling the simmer beneath their calm. For a fleeting moment, their expression softened, indulging in the warmth of his regard. But it didn’t escape him that beneath their carefully crafted façade lay a quiet kind of fatigue, a weariness he knew too well. They might be used to the role, but that didn’t mean it didn’t take a toll. With a practiced flick of their eyes, they returned to their cool detachment, meeting his gaze with that same untouchable allure, even as their hunger urged them closer.

Logan shifted, crossing his arms loosely, gaze steady as a teasing smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, his eyes glowing with playful challenge. “Sounds to me like someone’s after more than just puttin’ on a show.”

Their smile froze for the briefest moment, a flicker of tension before they rolled their eyes, snapping the mask back into place. “And you think you know what I’m after?” They raised an eyebrow, voice slipping into that smooth, predatory edge that reminded him just how much they hated being read—just like he did.

“Maybe,” he replied, holding their gaze with that same easy smirk. “Seems like a part of you might want somethin’ more. Connections. Someone to reach out to, now and then. Make it feel less… empty.”

They scoffed, laughter low and guarded as they leaned in, the slight sound of their bracelets punctuating the motion once more. Their voice dropped to a whisper. “Don’t flatter yourself, Logan,” they said, eyes glinting with challenge as they inched closer, the whisper turning almost venomous. “I don’t need anybody, pretty boy. Especially not you.” Both their words and gaze sharpened, a teasing yet defensive spark behind it, though something unspoken lingered there. The faint chime followed their movements, an echo of tension and warning. “You might think you’ve seen through me, but trust me, there’s a lot more here than you’re ready to understand. So, stop digging. You might not like what you find.”

Logan’s smile barely shifted, but he didn’t push further, didn’t try to peel back any more layers. He didn’t need to. He’d seen enough to know that behind the sharp edges and fierce guard, E wasn’t so different from him. And the thing they made him crave these last few weeks might just be the thing they’d craved themselves for a long time.

Silence stretched between them, charged and unbroken, as they sized each other up—E, guarded and fierce behind their confident exterior; Logan, settled and a little more at ease than he’d been since they first met.

He chuckled, a low, quiet rumble that broke the silence and hung in the space between them. A confident smile played on his lips, almost as if he were savoring his small victory. “So,” he murmured, leaning in. “We done here, or… you need me for somethin’ else?” His tone carried a hint of something deeper, something suggestive.

They bristled, the calm mask slipping momentarily as irritation flashed in their eyes, but they regained composure, sliding smoothly into a clipped, professional tone. “If you don’t see any more changes to make, I can take care of the rest. I’ll give you the documents once they’re finalized.”

Logan nodded, his gaze steady as he rose from his chair, towering over them for a brief moment. “Alright,” he said, his voice warm but resolute, like he was sealing an unspoken agreement. “See you around then.”

With that, he turned, heading toward the door. And as he left, he took with him the solid rythm of his presence, that subtle weight of connection they’d woven into him over the past couple of weeks. The room felt colder, emptier without it. The quiet settled in, hollow and gnawing, the sharp hunger suddenly surging in as the connection broke, slipping from their grasp like sand between their fingers.

Alone once again, they could almost feel it—an ache beneath the calm exterior, an unsettling reminder of what he’d managed to stir to life, only to take it away.

To be continued…

Notes: If you enjoyed it, don't forget to comment and spread the love 😊 More on the way!

✨ Masterlist ✨

Don't forget to follow the tags "Devilish Desires" and "xpressit writings" to stay tuned for the next chapters 😁

🔖 @quillycrow

[dimension20npcofalltime]

Round Four (Semi-Final) - Bracket Two [Dimension 20 NPC of All Time Sidequest Edition]

Wuvvy vs Stacy Fakename vs Meatwolf

Propaganda under the cut (May contain major spoilers for A Court of Fae and Flowers, Mentopolis and Burrow's End)

Wuvvy - She/Her

Campaign: A Court of Fae and Flowers

Who is she?

Wuvvy is Delloso de la Rue's close friend and former assistant.

Why is she the NPC of All Time?

She's a champion who left her court to become an assistant. She regularly exchanges 'I love you's with her crush, who only sees her as a friend. She is hurt by them but challenges their love interest to a duel instead. She ripped up the letter. She's devoted and messy and angry. Love of my life, NPC of all time.

She deserves better. Queen shit.

She's worked so hard. She deserves this

Wuvvy is a loyal freind who will cut a bitch if necessary

Cited by both Brennan and Aabria as one of their favorite NPCs of all time, and the only NPC that Brennan has ever wanted to sideline a campaign to follow. For a good part of the campaign, she provides the emotional depth that isn't present in the rest of the campaign, and creates conflict that matches the theme and genre of the campaign. One of the most intriguing and compelling NPCs of all times, side quest or not, and also a perfect girl who should be allowed to commit crimes because she deserves it.

Have you seen her?? beautiful prey turned predator. part of the most heart wrenching love triangle

Stacy Fakename - She/Her

Campaign: Mentopolis

Who is she?

Stacy Fakename is the personification of flight, one of Elias Hodge's reflexes.

Why is she the NPC of All Time?

It’s such a good bit with such a good payoff

Meatwolf - He/Him

Campaign: Burrow's End

Who is he?

Meatwolf, or The Wolf of Theseus is a wolf that was experimented on by the First Stoats to make it a weapon.

Why is he the NPC of All Time?

The goodest boy with the goodest name. Was supposed to be a scary but was turned into an adorable ball of totally non-horrific hugs thanks to a bit of kindness from Tula.

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Behind the Seams: Part III

Welcome to the first instalment of Behind the Seams! Thank you everyone who has responded so positively to this slightly self-indulgent idea I had. I know I take so long in between chapters, this seems like a fun way to keep you guys in the loop, and also to keep myself motivated and productive while I work by sharing my thoughts as I go.

This time, I'll be rambling about focusing on the characters as I'm still in the thick of developing personalities and interpretations in the Seams universe, and I'd love to put all the thoughts that have been rattling around my brain into words to help me process it.

I will be tagging these posts as 'behind the seams' together with the chapter number 'seams iii' so you can filter this out if you don't want to see them! For those who are interested, let's dive in below the cut!

Current status: 3.2k written, fully outlined rough draft with most of the dialogue drafted.

Initial thoughts: This chapter wrote far more easily than I expected to so far. Each story is different, but I tend to find the 3rd to 5th chapters hardest to write, when you're building up the shape of the arc of the whole series.

I'm still keeping my options open with regards to what Seams is or can be, but I'm still thinking 'loose fit series' i.e. there won't be a solid, overarching story arc or ending to the series since it's not a plot-driven story. It will be interesting to see if my approach changes after a couple more chapters!

The challenge: The first two instalments were so hyper-zoomed in on Joel and Pin, I knew that the challenge for this chapter is pulling back the camera and seeing how they interact with each other outside the safety of the Outfitters, and how they fit into the wider community.

Joel and Pin: I was re-reading Threads in preparation for writing Part III, and what strikes me is that these two really don't know a lot about one another. They've barely had a fully formed conversation despite the forced proximity and some very charged moments in the last two chapters. I've tentatively written most of their dialogue in this chapter, and it's interesting that a couple of times, I've stopped myself and thought - is this too playful for a shy person like Pin? Is it too familiar with two people who are practically strangers, despite their chemistry? It's a balance that I'll have to find as I edit, and I'm excited to see how it turns out.

Tommy: For some reason, Tommy comes fairly easily to me, a testament to Pedro and Gabriel’s chemistry on screen. Without giving too much away, I'm really happy with the angle I found for Joel and Tommy in this chapter. There's a lot to unpack between the two brothers, but the happy occasion means that I can focus on the good part of their relationship for now. However, I am keeping the tensions in their history in my back pocket because I don't want to gloss over the very real and three-dimensional relationship we saw in the series.

Ellie: I've talked about how I'm nervous about writing Ellie. My Pedro boys are all lone wolves - sure they have their best friends (Teak to Palomino!Jack, Santi to Grays!Frankie, Pete/Rebecca to Consent!Dieter), but Ellie is Joel's kid, and she's part of his life more than any BFF is to my other Pedro boys. Luckily, I have found an in with Ellie that I think works well with the story in Part III, and also fits in with the broader direction of the fic. It's going to be nerve-wrecking, but I'm ready to write her into Seams!

Tess: I'm not in a place to say too much yet about Tess, but it's so important to me that she isn't erased from the Seams universe despite her not being there. I've been thinking a lot about Tess lately, about how she will fit into the story, how Joel will fit Pin into his and in relation to Tess. There are no easy answers, and it will be something to mull over in the next few chapters.

Something fun: Ok, all this character stuff is pretty heavy, so I want to end on a light-hearted note - Joel's tummy makes a cameo in a white undervest 😌

And that's it for Behind the Seams: Part III! I feel a lot lighter having found a space for all the things I have been thinking about while drafting the chapter. I hope this was a fun deep dive for you guys as well, I'll be hitting Google Docs hard this weekend to try to get all of the writing done for Part III so that I can start editing next week. My askbox is always open if anyone wants to chat 🥰

[haitani-bruvz]

FAMILY AFFAIRS

Chapter 3 preview

First Meetings: Mikey

previous part

EDIT-- full chapter here

Shinichiro x Reader, Mikey x Reader, Izana x Reader

Please enjoy this little sneak peek of the upcoming chapter :) Full chapter coming this Monday!

DARK CONTENT!!! MDNI READ AT YOUR OWN RISK.

Series TW: Yandere, smut, murder, noncon/dubcon, drugging, kidnapping, pseudo-incest (reader is considered a sibling but not blood-related), physical abuse, emotional abuse, mentions of child abuse, and neglectful parents, ages of characters are shifted around a bit (Shin is younger)

August 1st, 1998

'I just hope he isn't mad at me,' you thought, nervously picking at the loose threads on your t-shirt as you waited for Shinichiro to come back from locking up his motorcycle.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the sound of a throat being cleared.

You looked up to see a young boy approaching with a serious expression.

He had short blonde hair, but his black eyes were strikingly similar to Shinichiro's.

The boy wasted no time sizing you up, approaching you with a question that caught you off guard.

"You're new," he said, with a challenging tone. "You here to fight me?"

The question surprised you, and you were momentarily lost for words. You had grown accustomed to people avoiding you at the orphanage because of Izana's intimidating presence, so you weren't used to people interacting with you, let alone someone so confident in their demeanor.

Before you could respond, Shinichiro walked in and quickly defused the situation. "Hey, what did I tell you about picking fights with people," he asked, whacking the blonde in the back of his head. "This is YN, a friend from the orphanage. YN, this is my little brother, Manjiro,"

little brother...?

The blonde let out a hum, suddenly very invested in your presence.

'Orphanage?" he eyed you suspiciously before continuing, "So do you know Iz-",

Shinichiro quickly interrupted him, shooting him a warning look.

"Don't even start, Manji."

Shinichiro's voice was low and tense, sending a chill down YN's spine. He seemed to notice the sudden shift in your posture, because not even a second later, he was sending you a smile as if to calm you down.

Mikey pouted, clearly disappointed that he was interrupted. But after a moment, he agreed to put the challenge on hold. "If Shin-nii says you're a friend, then I guess you're cool…but call me Mikey, not Manjiro, okay yn-chan?" he said, extending his hand.

You shook his hand back, but you couldn't help but feel a sense of whiplash from the sudden change in their attitudes.

"He's always like that with new people," Shinichiro explained, ruffling your hair reassuringly. "Don't take it personally. Grandpa should be back with Emma soon, so why don't you two go play and get to know each other better? Well have that cake I promised when they're here."

You nodded, unsure what to make of the situation, and allowed Mikey to drag you into his room. He rambled on about a toy plane Shinichiro had gotten him and about his misadventures with his friends, whom he promised to introduce you to next time. While you were interested in meeting his friends, you weren't so sure about this Kazutora kid. Mikey's stories didn't paint him as the friendliest, and you had a feeling Izana wouldn't approve of you befriending someone who seemed to have an even shorter fuse than he had.

As the day progressed and you spent more time with Mikey, you found yourself enjoying his company. He was funny and kind, and his warm black eyes reminded you so much of Shinichiro- someone you had really begun to grow fond of. Yet, despite all of that, there was a nagging feeling in the back of your mind that something was off about him, something dark and dangerous working under the surface. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but you knew that there was more to Mikey than meets the eye.

Please comment or message me to be tagged 💚💚

[mioreviews]

Beyond the Best 3: Shoujo Manga

Welcome back to <Beyond the Best> where I post lesser known manga that isn't mind-blowing but still good reads! I love shoujo, so I end up reading a lot. So it's shoujo (aka "young girl" aka romance/drama) time~ (>∀<☆)

In the Clear Moonlit Dusk

9/10, ongoing manga about a handsome boy-ish girl who is known as the "school prince" and her love life. It's a very cute first love manga, and the art is very cute. The art and romance style kind of gives off <A Sign of Affection> vibes (as in their relationship is similar, but the character types are different). If you haven't read or watched <A Sign of Affection> (manga review link), it's a very cute and wholesome romance story.

The main reason why I didn't post an individual review on this (since 9/10 review is pretty high) is because there aren't many chapters out. I feel like I can't make a good judge on it overall, so I put it here.

Studio Cabana

8/10, ongoing manga about a quiet, "dark and mysterious" boy who is the lead singer for a band and a very cute, wholesome, studious girl. This story has a "girl likes the guy but the guy doesn't realize" story. I like how the romance unfolds slowly. Many themes about learning about love, friendship, and mental health. Warning: There are suggestive scenes aka slight nudity. There is also relationship toxicity.

Perfect World

7.5/10, finished manga about a girl running into her high school first love as working adults. The girl, now an adult, is shocked to learn that her first love is now in a wheelchair, but her forgotten feelings begin to bloom again. Cute story with its highs and lows as the couple navigate their relationship. I like the themes of the challenges and relationships of disabled and non-disabled people. [Edit: I finished this manga and changed my review score from an 8/10 to a 7.5/10. There are better shoujo manga than this, but I still thought it was a unique story.]

──── ⋆⋅⋆⋅☆⋅⋆⋅⋆ ────

That's it! There are a lot more, but out of all the ones I'm reading right now, these would be the series I want to review and recommend most. Maybe in the future, I can do a part 2 with more ( ´ ꒳ ` )

[bardic-inspo]

I would love to ask you a million of these but I’ll settle for three (if you feel like answering them, of course)! 🥤 🧃🎨

Thanks for participating!!! 💛

Ahh you are so sweet, thank you so much!! 😘💜💜

[Writer's Truth or Dare Ask Game] 🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

There are SO many massively talented writers out there, many of which are still on my ever-growing to-read list. I wanna send some love to @littlejuicebox's multichapter fic, Midwinter Carol, which I'm about halfway through and absolutely loving so far!

It has: Ascended Astarion! Pining for someone who's right in front of you! Divorced yearning! Beautiful, poetic prose! Just absolutely *chef's kiss* Astarion characterization! Such a compelling protagonist in Eirianwen. Girl has got backbone and I'm excited to get to know her more and see how she complements and challenges our boy. And just a the perfect balance of angst and flirty hopefulness.

The actual fic summary (below) is much better than mine. You can read the fic on AO3 or Tumblr:

Fifteen years after the Ascendant and his lover went their separate ways, they run into one another at Wyll Ravengard’s Midwinter Gala. One dance is all they share. A week later, a cataclysm of events, spurned by Eirianwen’s return, uproots the life Astarion had been building for himself. One thing is made certain: the elven sorceress is the key to any ounce of salvation he may have left, if only she stops slipping through his fingers like sand from an hourglass. But old habits die hard, and old feelings are pulled to the surface for both the elves. Astarion is forced to confront the wounds of his past and deal with the damage he's done while trying to run from himself. The Ascendant is forced to decide whether he will continue on his current path or forge a new one... perhaps one that leads him back to the love of his life.

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

Hmm, I think I maybe talked about this on Twitter once, but not here. Well, I'm now pretty firmly in the agnostic (if not atheist) camp, but my parents pushed me to get confirmed as a kid (we were Lutheran). And I went to a church where, part of the youth group program was performing a traveling mime show of the passion story. Like, full on face-paint, black turtlenecks, miming Jesus getting crucified. There was a super eerie soundtrack and narration that went with it. Lots of drama over whether any of the girls could try-out for the Jesus role. Whipping sound effects. Absolutely no disrespect to anyone finding religious insight through art and whatnot. It just feels a little weird and uncomfy to me personally in retrospect. But then, religion really isn't for me. Most of the other confirmation programs I heard about my classmates doing had like, community service projects instead.

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

My first commissioned piece of Astarion and my main Tav (Naomi) was just finished tonight and I'm riding a cloud about it. They're so soft with each other and the artist did such a lovely job 🥹

There is SO much incredible BG3 and Astarion art out there. This piece really stands out to me, too. I just love how they captured Astarion's tender expression here, and how lovely he looks in this lighting:

[tiredassmage]

27, 13, and 7 for the new Rook questions!

Thank you, thank you, you know I always love talking about my beloved son <3

[50 questions for Rook (story-edition?)]

7. Did Rook ever encounter the Blight before the events of the game?

For better or worse, Tyr's called Minrathous home for as long as he can remember, which has certainly presented its own challenges, but Blight, at least, wasn't one of them. The kind of corruption that's familiar to him is what he might, on his more sullen days, accuse of being peoples' own - no potentially-apocalyptic deviations needed, something that has at least some kind of rooting back in being raised by a Tevinter military family with lessons about due deference and keeping your head down. Also the same kind of talk that made him so keen to join the Shadow Dragons when the offer came.

13. Which companion did Rook romance? What was the moment they fell in love?

Neve! You're allowed to say I'm predictable!!! 😭I swear I mean it when I didn't go in with any particular expectations or plans, but in hindsight, frankly of course he'd fall for Neve Gallus.

I do think there was a sort of natural gravitation to her for their shared work with the Shadows - that told him more than enough for him to take her advice on matters. As for how it happened? I'm not sure there's a single moment where he fell forward on his face about it, though I'm sure the moment he realized he'd fallen for her was a bit more matched to that description, lol. Probably... that first outing to the docks over Hal's fried fish? Okay, so maybe that wasn't the completely liable to trip over himself about her moment, but I think it's the beginning of his realizing he... really wants to get to know her. More. For all her talk of realism bordering on pessimism she accuses herself of, the Neve Gallus he sees is a woman determined to hold on to the little slice of hope she does have, and someone whose not, perhaps, as completely downtrodden about the world as she may seem. Her sense of humor never missing a chance to tease about tripping him up over what he's trying to say - even when it isn't flirting, or the gentle amusement with Bellara and Tevinter serials.

I think there's a lot of similarities between them that draw them together. Yes, they share the same goals with ties to the Shadow Dragons, but I think... even on a more personal outlook kind of note... maybe that they feel rather similarly about those goals? Or at least Tyr believes with a fairly high amount of certainty Neve isn't so far from believing ideals aren't entirely fairy-tales herself. And he wants to see more of that Neve Gallus - the hints through the cracks with the jokes and the fondness for the team, for the wisps (as much of a headache as them rearranging her notes may be), for Assan... for something a little... better, perhaps.

And, boy... that's when I think he falls hard. That side of her that's more playful, almost a bit... lighter. When he gets it in his head that he wants to prove that that side of her still has a place in it all, to encourage it and see more of it? There was no helping that man, and even two risen would-be gods weren't going to stop him from trying. And that's why he's Trouble. :3

27. Does Rook like being in charge of their team?

Honestly? For the most part, I think the answer is yeah. It's not probably much of a surprise given what made him fall so hard for Neve, but Tyr... does enjoy helping people he cares about - quite a bit. It's nothing to do with the title of the position and everything to do with just... enjoying being a person or a space they can come to for support. Someone they can count on.

And that's a boon to having a small, specialized team to him considering things as a leader. They get to know each other's strengths well, and get to build with focus then on how best to support one another.

Granted, the other side of this is that Tyr's not really the type to slow down until the pressing matters are handled to consider what wear and tear has worn him down, and even when actively questioned about it, his first response is generally to put aside what's troubling his own mind to ensure others are managing alright enough first. I can collapse when this over and all that.

But the Lighthouse would never have felt remotely like home, or even perhaps... 'safe,' if you will, without the team - the people - around him. At the end of most days, I think... Tyr generally believes most people are good. The world is good. And it does a lot, I think, for him to have the kind of moments where that's exercised - building a team and being allowed to walk a part of their journey with them, for example, let alone how grand some of those journeys can seem on paper. The return of the griffons to Thedas, what it's like trying to navigate family, even... It's always nice knowing you're not alone having dreams and hopes in life after all, right? And those can be a lot easier to find when you've got someone ready to offer you hand when the inevitable stumbles happen. Bring the Light, as the Shadows say.

What can I say? Under whatever understanding of the realities of politics and betrayals and the other machinations that make the world go 'round, especially in a place like Tevinter, he always was a man of deep ideals. And people are... unpredictable, by nature. There's a lot of charm to that for him, on the sunnier days. And if he keeps looking off the docks like this at me I'm gonna start playfully teasing him about waxing over-poetic about it, but then he did also regularly moonlight as a pianist (a hobby he still enjoys, mind), so perhaps there'd be some truth to it, too. :3

He's stealing your music room, Solas. No take-backs.

[webbedphantom]

Shadow Spider

So, I've mentioned this concept before, even posted a bit of the edits I made for it, but I never fully went into detail about it, just showed off the design. And since I've been seeing a lot of Shadow Joker recently, both in fanart and different verses of the Joker's I follow, I figured it was finally time to go in depth with the idea

(Edit: This has been sitting in my drafts for MONTHS, but I finally got it to a point where I feel like sharing it. So here you go!)

The Set Up

During a routine patrol, Aaron comes across his version of Mysterio, breaking into a lab researching the Metaverse and how it effects the mind. This version of the Illusionist is somewhat inspired by Scarecrow from DC. Instead of using special effects from movies, he uses a hallucinogenic gas, a gas he's also addicted to, to warp his victim's perception of reality. In small doses, it can heavily disorient someone. In larger doses, and with a bit of mental prodding from ol' Fishbowl head, the victim will be thrown into whatever ridiculous scenario Mysterio decides to put them through.

And it's that last part that he's looking to enhance, planning to add a chemical compound found in this lab to make the people under the influence of his gas MUCH more susceptible to persuasion.

Now whether or not this is the first time Aaron's fought Mysterio (originally it was, but now I'm not so sure), he'd still be new enough to his tricks that fighting the guy is a struggle. And during that struggle, he'd end up shattering a container holding the compound, allowing its fumes to mix with the gas already in the room, giving Mysterio exactly what he needs to get the edge over the Spider.

Mysterio makes him believe that he got away, that he failed to stop him, and that single suggestion planted a seed that would spread like wildfire.

Aaron has a lot of insecurities, a lot of doubts about if he deserves his powers or not, a lot of fears of letting everyone down, and this suggestion plays into that and cranks it up to eleven.

He starts seeing hallucinations of his friends, all mocking him, all tearing into him for failing, telling him how much better they'd be with his powers, how they were wasted on a loser like him.

And he just breaks. Because he believes every word of it.

Not to mention, the illusions are so realistic, and his mind and heart get so messed up from this, that he can't even tell what's real anymore. As far as he knows, his friends really said all that, and that really tears him up inside.

So, this isn't exactly a typical shadow. His desires haven't been naturally distorted, they've been twisted by a lie he was fed by Mysterio's gas, and that slowly begins to infect every part of his mind.

In and Out of the Mask

Aaron's unique bond allows him to keep some of his powers, despite no longer having access to Arséne, though he's been made far weaker as a result. Even still, he'd be a challenge for any regular person to take on, and if they're his friends, they'll probably have to take him on. (You'll see why in a bit)

But this distortion has also made the difference between him in the costume and not a lot more distinct.

Aaron outside of the mask has been made a total mess. He shuts himself into his room, refusing to talk to anyone. And if anyone tries to talk with him, especially his teammates, he begs them to leave, seeming almost terrified of them. He's barely eating, barely sleeping, hardly taking care of himself at all. He doesn't see himself as worth... anything when he's not wearing the mask. Which only causes him to spend more and more time in it.

In the mask, however, he's a much different beast. Whereas Aaron reacts to his distortions with fear, the Spider reacts in anger. And because his costume is cognitive, it has changed to match his new outlook.

He's lashing out at the world, brutally beating any criminals he comes across. And if he comes across any of his teammates, HOO BOY they better shocking run. The distorted illusions of his friends have made him despise them, actually reversing his social links with them. Meaning the closer he was with them before, the more he hates them now.

And this distortion isn't stagnant either, it grows and evolves over time. At first, it's only his teammates that appear in the hallucinations, but slowly more and more of his confidants begin to appear, all throwing out the same insults and vitriol, starting with the ones he was closest to and working its way down the list. And as we'll later see in his palace, its effecting his memories too, slowly erasing all the good times he's had with his friends, until all he can remember is the pain and the hatred he feels right now.

If left unchecked, he might start lashing out at more than just his friends and random thugs, but the citizens as well. After all, who else has thrown more hatred his way than the general public, who sees him as nothing more than a menace?

Two Different Paths

Now, obviously his friends are going to want to save him, to change his heart and get him back to the way he was. But it doesn't have to be through his Palace.

Since in the AU there is no MetaNav, obviously any version of this event set there would require a method to change his heart without entering it. Which is part of why I went for this unnatural shadow approach. Sure, changing a heart without the Metaverse isn't impossible, but this makes it a bit easier. Though it's still not a cakewalk.

Mainly, the IRL version of this would be figuring out what's wrong with him, maybe through an investigation, or just picking it up from context clues he drops. Then it's just a matter of convincing/reminding him of the good times, of how much they care about him, and how they're not willing to give up on him and let him suffer alone. This would naturally mean coming to blows with the Spider a couple of times, but eventually they would be able to get through to him, and help him break through the illusions Mysterio had infected him with.

The Palace version... well, that's a bit more complicated.

The Spider's Palace

Now because I never got to finish this event properly, I was going to put this section under a read-more. But because it's so complex and dense that it's why this post has been sitting in my drafts since December, I'm gonna just make a seperate post for that at some point down the line, since I really like this concept and want more people to know about it to (maybe) spin this event off into its own verse and do some in-depth threads for it.

So yeah, that post will come eventually. I've actually just put everything I'd written so far in a Google Doc so I wouldn't lose any progress. In the meantime, let me know what you think!

[freneticfloetry]

monday mourning

share your toughest writing challenge -- dialogue, plot, overwriting, underwriting, mechanics (grammar, punctuation)?

Thanks to @rmd-writes, @reyesstrand, and @liminalmemories21 for the tags. Behold, my neuroses:

1. Inflexibility. My brain is an asshole (thanks, ADHD!), and I have to write completely linearly and in total silence. So there's no "write what you're most excited about and come back to the rest" or "put on a playlist for inspiration while you write." And god forbid I've come up with some sort of narrative theme or throughline (like the play on three act structure in scenes from an unfinished story or naming each of the chapters in to build a home after the back half of "home is" statements that are thematically applicable to the seven scenes that chapter contains). Once that's in my head, there's no deviating from it — which is part of how I end up with three-chapter fics that are 75k.

2. Indulgence. Speaking of… Oh how I long to be a writer who can tell stories in stark, sparse, straight-to-the-gut prose, that no-frills perfection that so many authors I love have mastered. Alas, I am a wordy bitch. I write paragraph-length sentences. I push punctuation to its very limits. I once posted a 33k chapter. I will never say in a hundred words what I could say in a thousand, which is probably why I have never mastered the art of the drabble. And it isn't just word count, it's character work. Give me two snarky boys with complicated feelings for each other and I will let them banter for hours. (My next Tarlos fic, for the @tarlosweddingcelebration event, needs to be done in snippet-style scenes I haven't tackled in ages, so we'll see how that goes.)

3. Raging Perfectionism. If I could just write now and edit later, I would be so much more productive than I am. As it stands, the red pen never leaves my hand — I edit as I write, changing things constantly until I feel like everything works. I'm obsessive about the perfect word use, about dialogue being true to character, about pulling each thread I've previously laid so that everything ties together. There is no such thing as a first draft, for me — by the time I reach the end of a fic or a chapter, the whole thing is close to final because I've edited so much already. As you can imagine, this makes for an extremely slow writing process. I have no idea how to rectify this. I tried writing straight through once, as part of a sprint spree, and it literally gave me hives.

Also summaries. I hate summaries.

Tag, you're it (but no pressure!): @mixtapestar, @finnglas, @hoko-onchi-writes, @rubickk7, @eidetictelekinetic, @carlos-in-glasses

[angelofthepage]

38?

38. What is something about your writing process YOU think is Really Weird? If you are comfortable, please share. If you’re not comfortable, what do you think cats say about us?

Hmm, that's a tough one! I don't necessarily think anything about my process is weird, but I get the sense other people might be confused by some of my methods. Like, writing out of order isn't weird, it's a great strategy if you want to get to the part you're really passionate about while it's fresh and then work backwards. Sure it involves a lot of editing, but it's worth it to capture the passion. But I've met a lot of people who don't approach stories that way and find it odd.

One thing I'm in the habit of doing is writing dialogue as pure dialogue first and then going back and adding in body language where it's needed. I'm someone who talks to myself a great deal, the mirror knows me rather intimately in the way of monologues. And as a voice actor, I've found it useful to say your dialogue out loud to see how natural it sounds. If you've ever heard me speak out loud, you'll know I type rather similarly to how I talk, but I also like imagining many different ways of speaking. Sometimes I worry it all sounds too much like me, but then again, there's always a part of you in your art, so I suppose that's not a bad thing. I remember some of my language choices threw people off in college, people were confused by why some of my merfolk characters constantly called each other 'cousin', and I'm just like, that's part of the world building, it's the culture!" In eighth grade I had to write a children's book, and everyone told me to remove the word "trekked" from my draft, said kids wouldn't know what that meant. And I'm still salty about it, I'm convinced most of them didn't know what it meant even though there were context clues. My use of language is very specific to set the vibe and I will not apologize for it!

And to illustrate it, I'm gonna give a little sneak peak of something I'm working on that's BATDR related (no idea when I'll be ready to share it). I'm playing with the concept of a Keeper doing a series of side experiments on my OC, Bella, and oh boy their dynamic is great. I love writing his dialogue, it's a great challenge. Thank you for the ask! I'm still accepting submissions for the writer's ask game over on @inkabelledesigns.

“It is standard procedure. You must remain in the testing facilities.” He stated simply.

She sighed and turned away. “I’m not gonna run away from you, that wouldn’t do either of us any good.” 

The keeper quirked his head a little, looking her over curiously. “A rather logical conclusion you’ve come to.”

“Humans can be rational, you know.” She smirked, the glint of her teeth was somewhat fierce as his light shined over them.

“You are not human.” He replied as he got to work, organizing the tools that sat on his tray. 

“I suppose not, not anymore at least.” She sighed. “The outside is ink, but that doesn’t change my soul.”

“I fail to see how such a thing matters.” 

“Of course you would.” She huffed. “You’ve never dabbled with souls, have you?” 

“I can’t say I have.” The keeper replied curtly.

[x-press-it]

Devilish Desires - 5/8

Dangerous Temptations, Irresistible Touch 🎞️❤️‍🔥🌹⚔️🖤💻🖱️

Sub!Logan Howlett x Dom!OC (They/Them)

Summary: Logan, typically guarded and dominant, finds himself captivated by E, a mysterious being with a devilish allure and ancient presence that challenges his control.

Context: This story unfolds 'within' the "Days of Future Past" new timeline, during Logan's early years as a history teacher at Xavier’s School. It’s set well before his consciousness from the original timeline reconnects with him in 2023, as seen at the film’s end.

Content Warnings (for the whole story): Smut 18+ (Dry humping, Edging, Unprotected p in v.) - Dom!Logan into Sub!Logan - Pet Names (Good boy, pretty boy, pet, pup, amongst others…) reversed age gap (Logan is younger) - OC Notes: Established name, backstory, powers, fighting style, female body but gender fluid character (Logan misgender them at first because he doesn’t know, even in the descriptions) - Mention of other character from the MCU and subtle references to the comics for flavor (not mandatory to understand what is happening) - Flash back and mention of past trauma - Very quick mentions of drugs - Fluff with Dark Undertones: Emotional tension and possessive affection - Worship Themes: Religious imagery, reverent language and awe - Ancient Mysticism: References to otherworldly or demonic presence - Mental Health: Power dynamics, personal vulnerabilities - Trope: Rivals to lovers.

I'm back after 10 years of iatus and fairly new to how things are done on tumblr now, so sorry if I missed any warnings. Also english isn't my first language so there might be typos/weird sentences...

Notes: Got very inspired by sub!Logan and repeated listening of "Between wind and water" by Hael. Cover made with canva from an idea I got from this post. If you know who made the picture, tell me so I can credit them - Click on the divider to find the creator. Also this was meant to be an imagine turned into a full story. Just so you know, some chapters are very short, other are long. I'm in the process of editing/writing/rewriting parts so I'll post a chapter everytime I have one fully edited.

Finally, we're here! I had this chapter partialy written since ages (I think it was the first one I wrote) and it's now out for you to read \o/ It's time for some revelations :D (Sorry in advance for the bucket of lore coming your way XD ) I'm so excited, I really hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I liked writing it :D It's time to feed the hunger again :D

Need some music? I've got you I wrote the second scene with this particular song in repeat

Previously: in Devilish Desires

Chapters: 5/8

Word Count: 8.7K / 60K+ for now

The hum of the Danger Room felt more intense from the command center, each vibration resonating in Logan's bones as he leaned against the console, eyes locked on the floor below. It had been two days since the sparring session, and in the day that followed, the team had decided E would face this trial. Logan had offered them a few words of advice about the Danger Room's unpredictability—the way it tested not only skills but instinct and resilience. Now, as night had fallen, the room thrummed with anticipation.

On the other side of the glass, E stood in the center of the vast metallic space, their posture deceptively relaxed. But Logan’s keen eyes could see the tension in their muscles, coiled like a spring, ready to be unleashed. Their hair was down, swept back into a half ponytail to keep it out of their eyes, but still falling like a thick curtain down their back, where the glint of metal—perhaps just a trick of the light—flickered beneath. The simple sport attire they wore clung to their frame, unadorned except for the three bracelets catching the cold light on their left wrist, while their bare feet flexed against the smooth floor. Their gloved fingers twitched, as if itching for movement, a restless energy building in the charged silence, waiting for the simulation to come up around them.

“They look confident,” Jean remarked, eyes narrowed with mild curiosity, but there was an edge to her voice. Logan didn’t respond, jaw tightening. There was no point sharing how skilled E was; they were about to witness it with their own eyes.

“They better be more than just confident,” Scott muttered under his breath, arms crossed as he cast a skeptical glance at Charles. The professor remained composed, hands folded on his lap, as if waiting for something only he could anticipate. With a few practiced keystrokes, Hank finally configured the simulation.

Below them, the virtual reality sprang to life, the soft whisper of machinery and the flicker of artificial lights surrounding E's silhouette. The walls shifted, blocks emerging from all around the room as pixels spread over their surfaces, multiplying and transforming into the textured sprawl of an urban maze—alleys and crumbling rooftops taking shape around them. The objective was simple: evade, outmaneuver, survive. A test of adaptability.

E moved, graceful and quick, weaving through the fake streets, their movements precise and calculating. Logan's eyes followed every twist, every sudden dart, watching as their focus turned sharp. He knew that they were dancing on the edge of instinct and training, the latter being a completely new experience.

“Fast,” Kitty admitted, a touch of surprise lacing her words.

Scott's arms tightened across his chest, eyes fixed on E as they moved fluidly through the simulation. “Speed doesn’t always win fights,” he countered, his gaze unwavering as he frowned at the holographic city. The hint of critique in his tone made the others nod in agreement, their silence suffocating.

But Logan couldn’t help the snort that escaped him, a brief flash of irritation twisting his features. He masked it quickly by clearing his throat, but the sharp sound had already drawn their attention. Eyes shifted to him, brows lifting in question, but he remained silent, jaw set tightly as he turned his gaze back to the floor below.

“I don’t see why you insisted on this, Charles,” Hank said, the low rumble of his voice cutting through the quiet hum of the room. His analytical eyes narrowed slightly as E’s pace faltered. What was happening? Logan's hands twitched at his sides—something was wrong. Tension rippled through the command center as each person silently judged every move they witnessed. E was keeping up, for now, but not without effort.

“Yeah, what’s so special? Just another pretty face with tricks,” Bobby added with a short, dismissive laugh. Logan’s jaw clenched tighter, muscles shifting under his skin.

Charles steepled his fingers, leaning forward in his wheelchair with an unreadable expression. “Patience, my friends. There’s potential there. Untapped, but it’s there,” he said calmly, though the confidence in his voice was met with a few skeptical glances.

Logan’s teeth ground together as he watched them scrutinize, his muscles coiled with something raw, protective. This wasn’t just a trial for E; it felt like a trial for him, too, as if every dismissive comment was a thinly veiled accusation that he was thinking with something other than his brain.

Suddenly, a part of the simulated cityscape fractured with a metallic groan and came crashing down toward E. They twisted sharply, eyes wide, narrowly rolling out of the way as debris shattered where they had just stood. Dust plumed around them, and for a heartbeat, everything seemed to slow. Logan's hands clenched around air, claws itching, muscles flexing as if ready to leap down there himself.

The murmurs intensified, no longer masked by civility. Each comment jabbed at Logan, who could see the slight stutter in E’s movement below—a shadow of hesitation—as the room adjusted, shifting to create new streets ahead while the terrain behind dissolved seamlessly into nothing.

“That was close. They’re fast, sure, but is it enough?” The criticism in Scott’s voice was borderline caustic, hitting Logan like a sudden blow to the stomach.

“Enough!” he said, voice cutting through the low chatter. Heads turned, surprised. He rarely broke his silence, rarely defended anyone outside his trusted circle. “You all stepped into that room as first-timers once, too.” The statement wasn’t loud, but it was like a shot ringing out, silencing any further mutters.

Silence hung for a breath. They exchanged glances, eyes sharp with wariness, doubt simmering just beneath. The shift was palpable, the tension stretching taut as realization sunk in: they thought he was under their influence, as if E’s enigmatic pull was some kind of intoxicating drug.

Below, E stumbled, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through their poise. The sight struck Logan, a sudden twist in his gut. “That’s it,” he muttered, blood boiling, as he pushed off from the console, ignoring the startled looks as he strode toward the door.

“Logan, where are you—” Jean started, but he was already gone, the metallic door sliding shut behind him.

Their back pressed against the rough façade of an artificial, crumbling building, muscles taut as they scanned the street past the corner they were hiding behind, E’s heart raced. The air hummed with the ambient sound of clanking metal and distant combat. The Danger Room was more relentless than they had expected, its projections more immersive and intricate than they could have imagined. Every inch of their being screamed for focus, but exhaustion—and most of all, hunger—gnawed at their resolve. The weight of the command center's watchful eyes, laced with thinly veiled animosity, chipped away at their energy reserves, a constant, draining reminder of how unwelcome they truly were. They had known this would be difficult, but not this punishing.

As they prepared to move forward, a flicker of movement caught their attention—a shimmering distortion in the air, just a few feet from them, cracking the illusion for a heartbeat. What now? Frustration and irritation surged within them as the projection rippled, revealing a familiar form stepping through the pixels. E’s eyes widened in surprise. Logan. His expression was stormy, unreadable as always, with a raw determination etched on his face. The glint of his left claws, half-drawn, made their breath catch for a split second before they realized he wasn’t there to attack. He moved swiftly to hide beside them, his back pressed against the artificial building. The air between them buzzed with the charge of their connection. Concern.

“What the hell are you doing here?” E whispered, their voice harsher than intended. The slight breathlessness in their tone betrayed them, and Logan’s keen senses didn’t miss it, catching the faint tremor at the edge of their stance.

His brows furrowed, deepening the lines carved by years of battle and unyielding reliability. “You look like hell,” he said bluntly, eyes searching theirs for the truth they stubbornly tried to hide. Up close, E could see the muscles in his jaw clenching, his instincts coiled tight. The primal protectiveness that had driven him past Jean’s concerned call was written in every line of his posture.

Above them, in the observation deck, the palpable, hostile energy grew, stoked by Logan’s intervention. E gritted their teeth, feeling its force like a storm pressing down on them, threatening to break through their resolve. They held their breath, adapting to the oppressive weight with each rapid heartbeat.

“I’m fine,” E countered sharply once they regained control of their voice, though the claim rang hollow. They turned away, ready to press on, but Logan’s voice caught them like a tether.

“You’re not,” he growled, inching closer, casting a shadow that darkened the line of their vision. The cold, glaring artificial sun above was a poor mimic of real warmth, but Logan’s presence radiated heat, grounding them amidst the surreal chaos.

A silence stretched between them and E hesitated, a moment’s pause in which the weight of their exhaustion threatened to spill over. The edge of their allure had dulled, they knew it—no subtle shimmer beneath their skin, no echo of energy. Where vitality had thrummed, there was now a draining emptiness, a void that was craving his touch, his admiration.

Logan’s gaze sharpened as he took in the rapid rise and fall of their chest, the glazed weariness in their guarded eyes, the dullness to their horns, the fine sheen of sweat glistening on their neck, and the way their fingers twitched inside their gloves as if struggling to suppress a tremor. He couldn’t ignore how different they seemed from the fierce, fluid form they’d shown two days ago. His instincts screamed at him to act, to pull them out of this self-inflicted trial.

“E,” he said, his tone softer now, the rough edge replaced with something raw, familiar. His right hand lifted, hesitating before landing on their shoulder, a steady weight that offered comfort.

They met his eyes, the defiance in their stare wavering briefly. For a breath, the noise of the Danger Room dulled, replaced by the heat between them. The test, the hunger, the harsh judgments—everything faded as Logan’s gaze anchored them. They nodded once, forcing a small smirk that Logan didn’t buy for a second.

“I’m good enough,” they murmured, the sharp edge of confidence slipping.

Logan didn’t flinch. His gaze didn’t waver, and the concern etched into his rugged features went far deeper than simple vigilance. It was something fiercer, more personal. “Don’t push it. You don’t have to prove anything.”

“I do, actually,” E said, glancing at the command center before meeting his eyes again.

The animosity above seemed to swell, the silent disapproval pricking at them like thorns, likely fed by Logan’s gesture. They rolled their shoulders, shrugging off his hand in an effort to appease the unspoken hostility growing from the observation deck. They couldn’t keep up with this for much longer. They had to end this soon, or the consequences—ones they wouldn’t dare imagine—would catch up to them.

With a deep breath, they set their jaw, the mask of sharp confidence snapping back into place. Pushing off from the wall, they squared their shoulders.

“Let’s finish this,” they said, their voice steady despite the strain.

Logan didn’t respond, but the look in his eyes as he fell into step beside them spoke volumes. This was no ordinary training exercise. The stakes had shifted, and he would be damned if he let anything happen to them.

With a shared glance, they pushed forward, moving through the chaos. The mechanical whisper of the Danger Room came back to life around them, roaring in E’s ears as they navigated the labyrinthine maze of twisted metal and simulated war-torn streets. Every turn, every shadow, tested their resolve. Every step was weighted by exhaustion, their body teetering on the edge of collapse, finding strength only in Logan’s unwavering presence at their side. The extraction point glimmered in the distance, a brief beacon of hope.

But that hope was short-lived.

A metallic groan rumbled through the air as a shadow stretched across the ground. E’s eyes snapped upward, and their breath caught in their chest. Towering above them, metal plating glinting under the harsh artificial light, stood a sentinel—its towering form ominous and all too real. The red glow of its eyes sent a shiver down their spine as it powered up, joints whirring with deadly intent.

“What the actual fuck?” they whispered, eyes wide as a brilliant laser beam split the air, barely missing them. They dove to the side, rolling onto the cracked pavement and pushing themselves up against a wall for protection, breathless.

Logan’s gaze darkened as he pressed his back next to them, his eyes narrowing to sharp slits as he processed the sight. “Really, guys?” he muttered, low and venomous, clearly directed at Scott and Hank, who undoubtedly had a hand in programming this nightmare. Fury coiled tight in his muscles, but he didn’t let it show. There was no time for anger—only action.

“What’s that thing?” E’s voice, despite its edge, wavered.

“Listen,” Logan said, gripping their arm and forcing their wide eyes to lock with his. “That’s a sentinel. A robot designed to kill every mutant it sees. We need to take it down.” His voice was as unyielding as steel, but beneath it lay something softer—belief. He trusted them.

E’s pulse hammered against their temples, but Logan’s resolve wrapped around them like a shield, momentarily blunting the razor-sharp hostility pricking at them from the command center. They nodded, swallowing hard as they reached behind their back, fingers parting the curtain of their black hair as they curled around the cool texture of two big metal rings. With a swift motion, they pulled the circular weapons free, their sharp edges catching the artificial light. Chakrams.

Logan’s brow arched, the barest hint of amusement twitching at the corner of his mouth. “Where did you—”

He didn’t get to finish. The sentinel’s red eyes flared, and another beam cut through the air. E’s eyes widened as they registered the attack a heartbeat before it struck. With a surge of adrenaline, they shoved Logan hard, propelling him out of harm’s way as they dove in the opposite direction. The ground shook beneath them as the beam exploded against the wall, scorching the surface where they'd stood mere seconds ago, debris scattering like shrapnel.

They hit the ground with a grunt, pain sparking up their shoulder, but there was no time to dwell on it. Pushing themselves up, E glanced over at Logan, who was already rising, eyes narrowed with a mix of frustration and admiration.

“No time to chat, pretty boy,” E muttered, gripping their chakrams between their indexes and thumbs as they locked eyes with him. Logan gave a sharp nod, the sound of his claws unsheathing a cold metallic promise.

Together, they moved with the seamless coordination of two souls bound by an unspoken connection—like a red thread pulling them through the chaos, guiding their every move. E darted forward, using their agility to keep the sentinel’s attention, chakrams slicing through the air with deadly precision. Each throw found a weak point—joints, sensors, anywhere that could be chipped away to disrupt its functioning—before returning to their fingers, drawn back by the essence they had infused into the circular weapons long ago. The sentinel’s massive hand swung in retaliation, narrowly missing them as they twisted out of its reach.

Logan took the opening, charging up the sentinel’s back with the ferocity of a man who knew how to make every second count. His claws gleamed as he latched onto the metal plating, scaling the behemoth with a speed that defied logic. Sparks flew as he plunged his claws into the nape of its neck, tearing through wires and circuits with a snarl.

The sentinel stuttered, its movements jerking as it faltered. With a final, violent lurch, it began to collapse, metal shrieking as it toppled forward like a giant felled by time itself. Logan leapt down, landing in a crouch just as the robot crashed to the ground with a sound that echoed through the chamber.

E turned, breath heaving, as the dust settled around them. Relief surged in their chest, but the victory was fleeting. A sudden noise—an ominous creak—rippled through the air. E’s eyes snapped up just in time to see a chunk of debris, dislodged from a nearby structure, plummeting toward them.

Before they could react, Logan was there, moving faster than seemed possible. He grabbed them by the waist, yanking them to the side as the debris smashed into the ground where they had just stood. The impact threw up a pixeled cloud of dust, metal dressed in a stone-like sheen skittering across the cracked surface.

Logan’s arm stayed wrapped around them, the weight of his protective embrace more solid than the chaos surrounding them. For a moment, everything was silent except the pounding of their hearts. E looked up at him, eyes wide and stunned, and caught the raw, unguarded look on his face—one that spoke of fear and relief mingled with something deeper.

“You good?” he rasped, voice low and tight.

E nodded slowly, catching their breath as he released them from his hold. The warmth lingered on their skin and their throat became dry, forcing them to clear it. “Yeah,” they whispered, the reality of their near miss finally sinking in. The sentinel was down, but it wasn’t over. Not yet. Though, with Logan’s eyes locked on theirs, the weight of the hostile energy above felt a little less suffocating.

Around them, the holographic shield shimmered and fizzled out, leaving an eerie silence in its wake as the walls of the Danger Room shifted and retracted, returning the space to its usual stark, featureless expanse. The air was thick with tension, the adrenaline still pumping in their veins.

E couldn’t help but smirk, the exhaustion still gnawing at them but not enough to mask the small victory. “I think we make a pretty good team,” they said, their voice betraying the tremor of weariness that ran deep.

Logan shot them a sideways glance, the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite the concern still written on his face. “Yeah, just don’t get used to me saving your ass,” he muttered, though his words lacked the usual bite. Beneath the gruff tone, there was something softer—almost affectionate.

E raised an eyebrow, a challenge dancing in their tired gaze. “Oh, don’t worry,” they teased back, reaching behind and slipping their chakrams into the small crochets sewn into the back of their tunic, where they rested securely, hidden beneath their long, disheveled hair. They opened their mouth to say more, wiping sweat from their neck, but before the words could form, the door to the Danger Room slid open with a hiss.

Logan’s instincts flared to life, sharper than ever. He moved in front of E without hesitation, his broad form a solid wall between them and the approaching team. His eyes darkened with barely suppressed rage, chest heaving as he fought to control it.

“What the hell, guys?” Logan’s voice cut through the silence, rough and seething. “This was supposed to be training. You used a fucking sentinel? On someone who’s never used the Danger Room before?” His glare was as raw as his voice, daring anyone to challenge him.

Scott’s jaw tightened, meeting Logan’s gaze with a stoic defiance. “We needed to see what they could do in a non-controlled environment,” he countered, his cool tone only fueling Logan’s fury further. The tension between them thickened, crackling with unspoken animosity.

Logan took a step forward, fists clenched, eyes blazing with unrestrained aggression. His face flushed red, a clear warning that he was dangerously close to losing it.

“Logan.” The calm, steady voice of Charles Xavier sliced through the tension, his wheelchair gliding smoothly between them. His eyes held a mix of reproach and understanding. “It was indeed a bit too much,” he acknowledged, addressing the group. “But we’ve learned something valuable. E showed they can work with the team. They fought well with Logan.”

A small scoff escaped Scott’s lips, the sound turning Logan’s rage into a furnace. “Of course, they did,” Scott muttered under his breath, his gaze flicking between them. “It’s easy for lovers to fight in sync.”

The words struck like a match to gasoline, igniting the fire in Logan’s chest. His jaw clenched so tightly it felt like his teeth might crack. He moved forward, but a cold hand—trembling, far lighter than it should have been—landed on his forearm. The movement froze him, and he glanced down, meeting E’s gaze. Their face was pale, drawn, the defiance in their eyes replaced with an exhaustion so profound it was almost tangible. Their knees buckled slightly, and in an instant, Logan’s anger was gone, replaced by a wave of deep, gut-wrenching concern.

He reached out, catching them in his arms, steadying them as their body swayed. “Easy,” he growled, his voice softening, becoming more protective. His focus shifted entirely to them, every instinct urging him to shield them from the glare of the team.

With a quick glance at the others, Logan’s eyes hardened again, colder than ice. “This isn’t over,” he spat, teeth bared in a silent promise, his words dripping with warning. He didn’t care to explain further, focusing instead on E. Without another word, he gently guided them out of the Danger Room, his movements deliberate as he shielded them from the questions, the stares, and the storm he would unleash later.

For now, only one thing mattered—getting them out of there and making sure they were okay.

The walk to E’s bedroom felt longer than it should have. Logan's arm stayed firmly wrapped around their waist, guiding them as their steps faltered. They leaned on him heavily, their usually sharp gaze clouded with exhaustion.

When they finally reached the door, Logan pushed it open, leading them inside and helping them sit down on the edge of the bed. E reached over their shoulder, carefully pulling the chakrams from their tunic and placing them on the bed beside them, the metallic weight a comfort against the soft fabric. With a sigh, they removed their gloves, setting them beside the weapons.

Logan stayed close, his eyes scanning their face, searching for any sign of what was wrong. Their breathing was ragged, an unusual warmth radiating from them as sweat slid down their skin. Their fingers clutched the blanket beneath them, as though it was the only thing holding them steady.

He sat beside them, the mattress dipping under his weight. He didn’t want to leave, not when they looked like they were hanging by a thread.

“Logan…” Their voice broke, weaker than he’d ever heard it, and a tremor ran through them. There was more than just exhaustion—there was fear in their tone that made something in his chest tighten.

He shifted closer, brows furrowing as he studied them. “You okay? You look like hell.”

A faint, breathless laugh escaped them, but there was no humor in it. “Thanks… exactly what I needed to hear.” The words came out flat, without their usual teasing edge. They tried to stand, legs trembling beneath them. “I just need an hour… outside, and I’ll be fine. It’s… nothing.”

Logan’s reflexes were quicker than their unsteady movements. Rising too, his hand shot out, grabbing their arm before they could collapse. “No way in hell you’re goin’ anywhere like that. You’re burnin’ up.”

“I’ll be fine…” E muttered, trying to pull away, but there was no strength behind it.

He tightened his hold, eyes narrowing. “Are you on somethin’? Drugs?” His free hand shot to their forehead before settling on their cheek, searching their eyes for any sign of intoxication.

They laughed again, hollow and cracked, leaning into his touch instinctively. “I wish it were that simple.”

Logan’s frustration flared, his patience thinning as he gripped both their shoulders between his hands. “What do you mean by that?”

Their eyes met his—dark and shadowed with exhaustion, and something else. Something resigned. “I can’t live on food alone, Logan. I need… more.”

“The hell does that mean?” He wasn’t sure if he was angry, worried, or both. No, definitely both.

They swallowed hard, gaze falling as their voice dropped to a whisper. “Emotions. Desire, joy, lust… worship.” The last word left their lips like a breath, carrying a desperate weight that made his gut twist.

He went rigid, realization dawning on him. It was starting to make sense—the way they came at him at first, their playful behavior, the way their energy surged when they sparred, how they seemed to pull at him without even trying. It wasn’t just empowerment, it was sustenance.

“Negative energy drains me,” they continued, each word sounding like it took effort. “Criticism, doubt, disdain… it’s why I’m like this. Because of the team’s… distrust. But you… you’re like a damn buffet to me.” Their gaze locked onto his, more serious than he’d ever seen it, a deep, ravenous hunger veiling their vision. “Your healing ability… it’s dangerous for me. It makes me want to eat you alive. It’s hard to resist.”

Logan’s jaw clenched, processing their words. Finally, he asked, “So, what the hell do you need to feel better?”

E’s hand trembled as it reached up to cup his cheek. Their touch was light, hesitant, but it felt like fire against his skin. “There’s a solution… but I won’t force you. I’d rather die than hurt anyone again.”

Logan’s eyes searched theirs, taking in the raw pain and sadness—a vulnerability he’d only glimpsed until now. Something deep inside him shifted.

“If I can help… just tell me.”

Their eyes flashed with desperation, a glimmer of something dark and intense. “Kneel.”

He stiffened, caught off guard. The command hung between them like a challenge. Their tone wasn’t harsh, but it carried weight he couldn’t ignore. He could push back, deflect, but then they whispered, “Please.” The word, almost a cry, trembled out of their lips.

The softness of it cut through his defenses. With a grunt, he exhaled sharply and sank to one knee, his eyes never leaving theirs, still unsure but unable to pull away.

E moved closer, the fabric of their sweatpants brushing against his nose, their unique scent—spice wrapped in smoke—filling his senses and clouding his thoughts. Their tail slipped free, caressing his cheek like a soft, warm breeze. As the energy between them shifted, Logan caught sight of their horns subtly lengthening, the tips darkening to a crimson hue that shimmered with a subtle pulse.

“Is there anything about me you find attractive?” Their voice was softer now, teasing but tinged with need.

Logan's gaze flickered to their hips for the briefest moment before he forced himself to look back up. “Maybe,” he muttered, heat pooling in his lower belly.

E sighed, their tail trailing down his neck. “I can feel that. Your pulse… it’s quickening. It’s not enough to make me better… but it’s a start.”

Their fingers slid into his hair, gentle but firm, tilting his head back slightly. “Tell me, Logan. What would you do to me if I let you touch me?”

He swallowed hard, his breath shallow, unable to fight the images their words conjured. The pull in his chest tightened as if they tugged on it, firm and relentless. His voice dropped, low and feral. “I’d… I’d hold you by the hips. Smell you.”

E shuddered at his confession, eyes closing as they soaked in his desire, a deep sigh escaping their lips. The strength they had lost was starting to return, slow but sure, coursing through their veins like a lifeline.

“You’re not allowed to touch me,” they whispered, their voice more commanding now as they felt his muscles tense under their tail. “But I grant you the right to imagine it.”

The impact of their words hit him harder than he expected, his reason struggling to keep control. His jaw clenched, and he felt E’s hand lightly combing through his hair, each stroke sending a sharp pulse of heat down his spine. The weight of their touch made his blood rush faster, thrumming beneath his skin, coaxing everything he’d tried to keep buried to the surface without apology.

“Keep going,” they ordered in a breath. “What else do you want to do to me?”

Logan groaned low as E's hand tightened in his hair, forcing his gaze to meet theirs. Their eyes burned with something primal, hunger so raw that there was no room for hesitation. He knew that look, but this time, it wasn’t controlled or smooth—there was desperation hidden beneath it, like a storm tearing through their soul, destroying everything in its wake. And that desperation was pulling at him, unraveling every shred of restraint he had left.

E's lips curled into a smile as they felt his struggle. “Tell me, pretty boy,” they cooed softly, their voice laced with an intoxicating sweetness.

He clenched his teeth, eyes shutting tight, fighting to push back the images flickering through his mind. He didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to admit it. But their power, the praise, their sultry words, were messing with him in ways he couldn’t resist, coaxing out the desires he kept buried deep inside. The energy swirling around them was intoxicating.

E's fingers curled tighter, pulling his head back, forcing him to look at them again. “Use your words. Be a good boy,” they continued, their tail caressing his neck. “You know you want to.”

Logan growled, fighting the urge to let it all out. The shame mixed with desire was like a drug to them. He could feel it—E's energy was returning, and with it, the confidence they had lost just moments ago. Their posture shifted, becoming more commanding, more certain, towering over him.

“Words! Now!” Their voice crackled like thunder in his mind, no longer a request but an order, sharp and insistent.

His pulse pounded in his neck, and he knew they felt it too—the barely controlled beast inside him, clawing to break free. “You sure you can handle that?” he muttered, voice rough and strained, as though dragging each word up from the depths of his soul. The restraint cost him dearly, but their nearness made it impossible to hold back.

E’s eyes, dark with a hunger that now matched his own, met his. “I need it, Logan. I need you.”

The simple admission shattered the last of his resolve. Their gaze pulled him in, command and vulnerability twisting him tighter. His breath came harsh, uneven, his lips parted as the words slipped out before he could stop them. “You want to know what I’d do?” His voice dropped to a low growl, fingers curling at his sides, desperate to act on the vivid images in his mind. “I’d pull you so close there wouldn’t be an inch left between us. Make you feel every bit of what you’ve done to me.”

A shiver ran through them, their chest rising as they drew in a shaky breath. The tension between them thickened, electric. Confidence surged in them, and they leaned into him, letting his energy flow through them like a wildfire finding dry kindling, a soft laughter bubbling in their chest.

“Don’t stop.” Their voice, now more than a whisper, carried an edge of authority. “Tell me everything that runs through that gorgeous head of yours.”

Logan’s breath hitched, muscles tensed with the war waged inside him. His gaze turned predatory, and he felt the last barrier of control splinter. He drew closer, his forehead almost touching their leg, so their scent—spice wrapped in smoke—was the only thing filling his thoughts. “I’d take my time… pulling your pants down. Start with your thighs, kiss every inch—”

Something snapped inside them. E gasped, the intense rush faltering as their grip on the bond loosened. A sudden softness overtook their movements, the intoxicating power that radiated from them wavering.

They stepped back abruptly as they came back to their senses, eyes wide with a mix of concern and regret. The haze in Logan’s mind lifted, confusion colliding with clarity, his pulse still thrumming with the heat of the moment. He blinked, shaking his head as he caught his breath, eyes searching theirs. “What… what was that?” he asked, his voice soft with confusion.

“I’m sorry, I should have been more careful,” they whispered, kneeling in front of him, their hands trembling slightly as they reached for his cheek and shoulder, their composure slipping. E’s fingers brushed back a strand of his hair, gentle. “I got carried away. It… can happen sometimes, when the hunger is too strong. I lost control. I pushed too far. I’m so sorry.” They studied him, their eyes scanning his face for any sign of damage. “Are you okay?” E asked softly, their voice more tentative now.

“I guess so,” Logan muttered, still unsure of what had just happened.

E slowly rose to their feet, one hand extended toward him. He exhaled, the last embers of their moment cooling, and took their offered hand. The tension between them now mixed with lingering desire and mutual understanding.

Logan felt the force of E’s strength as they effortlessly pulled him up, the realization hitting him that they were back to their full power. Despite the energy that coursed through them, embarrassment was written all over their face. “Thank you, Logan.” Their voice still carried the worry they’d shown a few seconds ago. He caught the shift in their demeanor, but his response came naturally. “It’s okay.”

E, however, wasn’t so easily soothed. Sitting on the edge of their bed, they shook their head, avoiding his gaze. "No. It’s not okay," they muttered. "A normal person could have been seriously hurt from that.” Their words trailed off, and Logan could see the craving still burning behind their eyes—a flicker of something deeper, darker, barely restrained. “Good thing you heal fast…"

Their horns had returned to their smaller size now, but he knew that look. The hunger wasn’t gone.

Logan’s eyes couldn’t leave them, and he sat beside them, the bed protesting under his weight. "You're not done, are you?" His tone was blunt but laced with understanding. "You need more."

E sighed, and for a moment, their confident, commanding presence crumbled, leaving them looking small, vulnerable, and uncertain. "Yeah, I do," they admitted quietly. "I've been hungry… for most of my life. Pretty much since the day I awakened… which cost me someone’s life."

Logan didn’t push for details, though the weight of their words hinted at a story full of pain and regret. If they wanted to share it, they would. He wasn’t the type to force anyone into reliving their worst memories.

Instead, he asked a more practical question. "How do you usually deal with it? The hunger, I mean."

E's gaze shifted, as if deciding how much to tell him. "I find people who agree to let me… feed on them." The word clearly didn’t sit right with them, the frown on their face making it obvious. "I go to clubs, feed on the emotions in the crowd, or find a lover who’s up for a night of pleasure."

Logan's brow furrowed, caught off guard by the ease with which they said it. He wasn’t a prude, not by a long shot, but the detachment in their voice was something else. It sparked his curiosity.

"What do you mean? You can feed on… sex?" His voice was rough, but the question hung between them, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied their reaction.

A sad smile tugged at their lips. "Yeah, I can. I only did it once… and someone died." They hesitated for a moment before continuing. "I make them feel good instead. I feed on their emotions, not their life force. I'm a giver, only."

Logan blinked as the realization hit him. "So if you have sex with someone, they die?" The weight of it settled in his mind. "So that means… you haven’t… since?"

E shrugged, their expression resigned. "I haven’t had sex in the way you conceive it in roughly… 250 years, give or take… maybe it’s 260. Time gets blurry after a while."

"Wow…" was all Logan could manage, his mind reeling from the thought. A pretty thing like them, not having been with anyone in… centuries? His thoughts drifted, imagining it, and he felt his face warm slightly before he caught himself. But before he could hide it, E chuckled.

"I can sense you’re thinking about me again," they warned, a hint of humor glinting in their eyes despite the sadness. "Did I get too much into your head?"

Logan grunted, but a smirk tugged at his lips. "You wish." Still, he couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something here, something raw and uncharted. An opportunity that could satisfy the primal part of him always searching for more—a connection that might, even for a moment, quiet his restless spirit.

“How do you keep the hunger in control around the kids here?” His voice softened as he spoke, more carefully this time, a rare edge of concern threading through his words.

A long, strained silence filled the space between them. E’s expression darkened, the raw vulnerability that slipped through making Logan’s chest tighten. Their shoulders slumped, and for a moment, they looked impossibly small, their strength faltering under the weight of their admission. “I don’t.” The words were soft, but the heaviness in them rang louder than any shout. “I haven’t properly fed since I got here… which is also why… I had that meltdown.” E’s gaze faltered, a rare crack in their usually unshakable facade. "I don’t want to hurt them, Logan. They're just kids. Too innocent. I… I don’t want to corrupt them with this."

Logan’s throat tightened as he processed the weight of their words. Their restraint was admirable, but the flicker of concern in his chest grew into something heavier, a gnawing worry that lodged deep. What if he hadn’t been there to help? Who would they have turned to? The thought unsettled him more than he cared to admit.

“Maybe…” He hesitated, unsure whether his next words would cross a line. But they were already on the tip of his tongue, and his protective instincts pushed him to speak. “Maybe we could work out an agreement.”

E looked at him, brow furrowing in confusion, the weight of his offer hanging in the air. “What do you mean?”

He leaned forward, his voice low but deliberate, eyes never leaving theirs. “Well, if I’m a walking buffet, might as well grab a bite now and then, right?” He tried to keep his tone gruff, but the underlying implication was clear—he wasn’t just talking about feeding.

They stared at him, disbelief written all over their face. Logan added quickly, “To keep the kids safe, you know…” His voice dropped, edged with something deeper—a personal stake he couldn’t quite define.

E’s chuckle filled the room again, their eyes gleaming with amusement. “Convenient,” they said, seeing through his cover but not arguing. If Logan was offering, who were they to say no?

“I mean,” he carried on, voice low and rough, as he tried to push past the weight of their amusement. “No strings attached, you know? Just a quick fix once in a while. Maybe you could try bein’ a little selfish. Not just givin’, but takin’ too, to blow off some steam.” He leaned in a little closer, his words edging toward a challenge, a hint of something dangerous in the way he spoke.

A slow, teasing smirk spread across E’s lips, their eyes gleaming with something dark and playful and Logan couldn’t help but remember how he first thought they would be trouble. And, oh boy, had he been right. It was written all over their face again, but hell, maybe that’s what made life worth livin’. Though, instead of jumping into his offer, E shrugged, playing it cool. “Yeah, sure,” they said nonchalantly, “if you’re up for it… And if you think you can handle my games." Their eyes glinted with amusement, but they left the offer hang in the air for a few heartbeats. "Maybe we can work something out.” There was another pause. “Just to keep the kids safe.”

Logan chuckled, the sound rough but laced with genuine amusement. “Of course. Just to keep the kids safe.” Though, the words were more loaded than either of them were willing to admit.

Their eyes met, an unspoken understanding flickering between them before silence settled, thick and charged. Then, E stood, a shift in their demeanor as they moved with purpose. “So, if we’re going to do this, might as well make it good for the both of us, right? What do you like most?” They flashed a playful smile. “Guy? Girl?”

As they spoke, their form shimmered, shifting into a strikingly handsome man. Logan’s brow lifted, eyes narrowing as he assessed the change with a mix of curiosity and suspicion. The ease with which they wore this unfamiliar face made him feel both intrigued and guarded, muscles unconsciously tensing in response. Before he could fully process the thought, E shifted back into their original form, and he felt his heartbeat slow to its usual rhythm.

“Want me to look like someone you know?” they teased, voice laced with something darker, a playful glint sharp in their eyes. Logan’s gut clenched as E’s features rippled, reshaping into Ororo’s elegant visage. The sight tugged at a memory of storms and shared battles, sparking a flicker of warmth that was swiftly overtaken by wariness. Then Scott’s face emerged, stern and self-assured, making Logan’s teeth clench involuntarily—old rivalries resurfacing for a brief, silent heartbeat. But it was the final shift that gutted him: Jean. The phantom ache hit him hard, a rush of regret and want tangled in an old wound he thought long scarred over. He forced himself to stay stoic, the turmoil in his chest hidden beneath a practiced frown. E’s eyes glimmered with mischief as they returned to their usual form, gaze locking with his in an unspoken challenge.

But they weren’t done.

“What about plain old me?" The question carried a whisper of vulnerability, softening the edges of their usual bravado. Before Logan could catch his breath, they morphed again, this time into something unexpected: tanned skin glowing warmly, innocent blue eyes staring back at him, long, wavy brown hair that spilled down to their knees. The transformation stunned him, a contrast so striking it made the breath catch in his throat. The unfamiliar curve of their smile, the way their presence seemed more tender yet powerful—it tugged at something primal, something he hadn’t expected.

Logan’s gaze lingered, caught off guard as curiosity tangled with an unexpected coil of desire. He felt his senses sharpen, instinct flaring as the tension between caution and temptation thrummed just beneath his skin, daring him to stay composed, even as the line between control and surrender blurred at the edges.

Hell, they knew exactly what they were doin'.

He let out a low breath, eyes steady on them. "Take the one you like most," he said finally, his voice thick with the weight of it all. "I’m good with whatever. Might as well be comfortable, you know." There was a small pause before a few more words slipped out. "But I gotta admit…" He smirked, unable to hold back. "Leaves some interestin' ideas."

There was a spark of amusement in his eyes now, the prospect of what could come. So many versions of them, so many ways this could go.

Logan kept his cool on the outside, but his thoughts were racing. He wasn’t exactly shy about what he liked, and the way E changed forms so effortlessly was unlike anything he'd seen. The possibilities? Endless. And for a guy who'd lived as long as he had, it took something special to surprise him.

But as much as his mind wandered over the many options in front of him, there was still that feeling — something deeper than just lust. Maybe it was the way E seemed so guarded under the teasing and power. The way they tried to make everything sound casual, even though Logan could see the weight of their long, lonely existence hanging on their shoulders. It made him pause.

He leaned back again, his hands on the mattress behind him, taking in their latest form — tanned skin, long brown hair, blue eyes. It was tempting to let them become someone else, someone new every time. But then, something clicked. “You don’t have to change for me, you know,” he said, voice a little softer, but still with that signature gruffness. “I kinda like you the way you are.”

The smirk on E’s face flickered, like they weren’t expecting that. It wasn’t just the words — it was the way he said it. Like he actually meant it. They stood there for a second longer, holding his gaze, before they shifted back into the form they always wore until now. Still powerful, still beautiful, but now with a hint of vulnerability they didn’t usually show.

Logan’s lips twitched, just a hint of a smile. “Besides,” he added, his voice dropping lower, “I’m not exactly picky. Just as long as you can handle me.”

E chuckled, walking closer. “I think I can manage,” they said, though there was a glimmer of something else in their eyes now. Maybe it was curiosity. Maybe it was relief. Whatever it was, Logan wasn’t sure yet. But he’d figure it out eventually. After all, it wasn't just about keeping the kids safe anymore. There was something more brewing here, and Logan could feel it.

But for now, he played along, letting the tension between them hang in the air. He knew this settlement was going to get messy, but hey, hadn’t that been always the case for him? At least this time, he’ll get some fun out of it.

Logan smirked, still taking in everything E had just shown him. He’d seen a lot in his time, but nothing like this. It was a display of pure power, confidence, and—hell, he couldn’t deny it—beauty. His curiosity got the better of him as he spoke, voice low. "What’s your real form, anyway?" he asked, genuinely intrigued. "And… is E even your real name?"

E smirked, clearly enjoying the effect they were having on him. Slowly, they shifted back into the form of the young woman with the long, wavy brown hair that cascaded down to nearly touch their knees, tanned skin glowing faintly in the dim light. Their piercing blue eyes locked with his, intense and unyielding. The two horns above their hairline, now fully extended, had the sheen of polished obsidian, gradually darkening to a deep red at the tips, adding an almost regal fierceness to their look. Their thin tail moved with a life of its own, curling toward his cheek as it had earlier, the only constant in their shifting forms.

A pair of feathered wings unfurled from their back, the inky black plumage fading to a crimson red at the edges, casting subtle shadows across the room. It was an image of raw power and allure, both ominous and breathtaking in equal measure. But what really got him was the way their hips swayed as they moved closer, drawing his attention like gravity itself.

"This is my real form," they said, their voice soft but laced with power. "Once, I was Amrit, Amrit Kaur Singh. But that was centuries ago. When they revealed themselves…” Their wings twitched at their back, a subtle shift betraying old memories. “I became Ezekiel. Ezekiel Nepharael.” E let the name float in the air between them for a couple of heartbeats. “I sometimes go by Eki or Zeek, depending on whether I’m feeling more… feminine or masculine. But for most people, I’m just E."

Logan felt like his mouth had gone dry, his eyes glued to them as the energy in the room practically buzzed around them. The wings, the tail, the horns—it was like nothing he’d ever seen, but damn if it wasn’t mesmerizing. His throat felt tight as he tried to form words.

"You like what you see, pretty boy?" E teased, their smirk widening as they stepped closer once again, a playful gleam in their eye. It wasn’t even a question, more like a statement of an universal fact. They could feel his reaction, sense the heat of his desire.

Logan, despite himself, nodded, a muscle in his jaw tightening as he struggled to keep composed. "Yeah…" he managed, the word caught somewhere between disbelief and desire, his voice rough and breathless under the weight of it all.

E’s smile softened, though, almost tender, like they were savoring every drop of the power they felt from him. It wasn’t just lust—they could feel the admiration, the curiosity. They took a slow breath, as if inhaling his energy, their smile growing even more gentle before they pulled back, releasing the hold they had on him.

Logan blinked, shaking his head as if snapping out of a spell. “I mean…” he cleared his throat, regaining a bit of his composure. “Yeah, that’s… that’s okay, I guess.” A smug smile curled on his lips.

E chuckled softly, the sound rich with amusement. They shifted back to their favorite form, casually sitting on the bed, still exuding the same undeniable confidence as if they were wearing something far more formal than their simple sportswear. "So," they said with a playful smile, "how do you propose we handle this agreement, Mr. Howlett?"

Logan cleared his throat again, his gaze meeting theirs with an edge of concern. "I’m not gonna sell my soul to the devil, right?" he asked, half-joking, but there was a quiet unease gnawing at him, like something deep inside was warning him.

E chuckled again, shaking their head. "No, don’t worry. I’m only in the business of pleasure, not deals. And I’m a giver, remember?"

"Right," Logan muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he mulled over the details. "Well… whenever you’re feeling… peckish, just knock on my door. I’ll do the same. If one of us doesn’t feel like it, then nothing happens. No strings. I don’t owe you anything, you don’t owe me anything."

E nodded, clearly pleased with the terms. "Fair enough," they said, but their smile turned sly again as they leaned forward, adding, "Anything you’d rather avoid? Things you don’t like doing?"

Logan's mind flashed to the moment they'd almost shared a kiss under the stars a couple of nights ago. He felt a shudder at the memory of the pull he'd felt, like he was going to be drained dry. "No kissing," he said firmly. "Also… maybe we should keep this between us. No one can know. And… well, if something makes either of us uncomfortable, we stop. No explanations.” He paused, briefly considering, but nothing else seemed necessary. “Yeah, that’s it. That’s all I ask."

E’s smile softened, genuine this time. They nodded. "Agreed. I’ll have the paperwork for you tomorrow." Their eyes sparkled with amusement, and despite himself, Logan chuckled.

"What?" E asked, amused. "I’m still a lawyer, pretty boy," they teased.

This time, the nickname sent a new warmth through Logan’s chest, one he wasn’t quite prepared for. Clearing his throat again, he stood up. "Well, if you don’t need me tonight, I’ll see you around, counselor."

E smirked, watching him intently, their eyes sweeping over his broad shoulders and the way he moved. "Of course you will," they purred, their voice low and full of promise.

He was halfway to the door when they called out. "Logan?" They waited until he turned to look back at them, their eyes softer now. "Thanks again. And… goodnight."

He gave them a small nod, his voice low as he responded, "You too." Without another word, he left the room, the weight of their offer—and whatever this was between them—still lingering heavy in his mind.

To be continued…

Notes: Curious about what does E looks like? Check out their moodboard. If you enjoyed it, don't forget to comment and spread the love 😊 More on the way!

✨ Masterlist ✨

Don't forget to follow the tags "Devilish Desires" and "xpressit writings" to stay tuned for the next chapters 😁

🔖 @quillycrow

[ipsen]

1, 4, 5, 7, 8, 12 and 13 for Holometabolism

Hoho, boy, here we go. After a read more!!

1 - What inspired you to write/update this work?

I once put in the tags of a post I can no longer remember that there are only two things that fuel the creative process: love and spite, which are ultimately the same thing-- a desire for something better than what came before.

I am not upset that Eto was scrubbed out of her role in TG:re. I am upset because she was ultimately treated as an afterthought by the story, and that most of her efforts are just attributed to Arima. It's one of Tokyo Ghoul's worst habits: giving men more pity and attention than women. And this is a story with really good women characters that fall flat simply because the story refuses to utilize them.

That is ultimately why I made Holometabolism.

4 - What’s the most challenging part about posting new/updated work? Do you find posting stressful or invigorating?

Posting as I go is probably the only way I can motivate myself to continue a multichapter work. I need some extra validation from sources besides myself, because personal passion can only get you so far in life. You must be uplifted by others in some capacity to, ultimately, make it anywhere.

The hardest part about posting is, to me, clicking the post button. Because I just know there's gonna be some formatting error or whatever that I missed and now I have to go back and FIX IT.

Oh well.

5 - How do you decide how long your fics/chapters will be? Do you have a word count goal?

For Holometabolism specifically, I liked to shoot for at least 4k words because that's a nice healthy number for me. It just seems like the longfics I myself enjoy have a similar word count per chapters, and I've just kinda grown accustomed to it.

But usually my process involves a vision, and then writing to get to said vision. I visualized an EtoKen ending for this fic and then went from there (I actually fleshed out Chapter 4 the most before any of the others, and it's the chapter that's retained the most of its original draft form). Word count isn't a generally a factor, but it does help keep me within a certain limit.

I'm all for a word vomit, but constraints are an integral part of quality. Also makes editing much easier when there's less to actually edit. I like editing the least.

7 - What part of this fic/chapter was the most fun to write?

Now here's a tricky question, because I have a lot of parts that I had so much fun, to the point where ranking them is honestly impossible.

I liked Eto and Touka's first conversation in Ch2. They are foils to one another, with similar backstories and personalities, but they approach things differently. Establishing that was important groundwork for their friendship later on in the fic.

Every time Hinami interacted with Eto was a joy. Hinami is this weird cross between Kaneki and Eto, like a strange brain child of theirs since she was influenced by both of them at key stages in her life.

Ch4's climax (haha) is near and dear to my heart. Not my best work by a longshot, but a very important piece that I'll cherish for a long time. Reconciling your ugliness and bearing it in the hopes for something better is something I want to believe I can do too. So I wrote two people doing it (haha).

Ch5's ending!! I loved taking "I am a ghoul" and making it a positive, awesome slogan! I felt bad having to follow it up with Ch6, honestly. SPEAKING OF--

Eto and Furuta's conversation and "rematch"! So much fun. What better to demonstrate her character development than by having her confront someone she definitely hates? Gotta pat myself on the back for that one.

8 - Which line/paragraph are you most proud of? Why are you proud of this?

Tricky question #2, I see. Well, if I have to pick one, then:

“Please don’t die, Eto,” [Hinami] choked out.

Eto pursed her lips. “Why?”

A few tears dropped onto their hands, coalescing into a small puddle on Eto’s knuckles. “Because… Because I’m not ready to say goodbye.” Hinami pressed their hands against her forehead. “Please… Even if you can’t smile, or laugh, or cry… Live.”

I intended this to be the turning point for Eto's character in this EtoKen fanfiction. A sin, to some, to not have the love interest be the one to start the redemption journey.

Hinami is another one of Eto's foils who is also in the unique position of being capable of holding real and sustainable affection for her. It was important to me to showcase that that was what it was: real, genuine love. Because Hinami, besides Kaneki, is the only person Eto would actually believe in 99% of circumstances, since the girl is both similar to Eto and honest with herself.

12 - What do you hope readers will take away from this work?

"You are worth it, even if you don't think you are." "There's always a little bit of hope for everyone." "Even if you can't smile, laugh, or cry... Live."

Life is mostly good, I like to think, and I wanted to underscore that belief with this fic. I want people to know that hope is stronger than despair, and that it is hope for the future and yourself that drives positive change. Something like that.

13 - Are there any cut lines/scenes from this work? Why did you cut them?

I have an entire document dedicated to "scenes that were Good to me, but either didn't flow properly with the story or just contributed very little to the progression of those involved." There's at least one scene per chapter, too.

I might actually post some of them here on tumblr someday, when I'm feeling enough energy to format each LOL

--

That's everything! Thanks for the ask!

[mapsofnonexistentplaces]

some brief explanations off the top of my head below the cut! take some fine details with a grain of salt because my memory's not pristine. some very obvious stuff i am also not explaining

1st tier is self explanatory its all the stuff rtvs is known for

1.5 having "wayne is not his real name" is kind of a joke because that fact repeatedly surprises people in chat every once in a while. addendum for the "lore" of that being that wayne just used a picture of wayne brady as a profile pic on steam when he was a teen and it led to people calling him wayne as a nickname, thus leading to his current username

tier 2:

where do we begin: THE rtvs podcast. i feel like everyone knows about it but also i see people being surprised that they have a podcast so it wasnt quite fit for tier 1

pol martin: and his microwave cooking, born of various vhs viewingz

balls cam: the reoccurring joke of "when will wayneradiotv do a balls cam?"

jazz is a misogynist: refers to the fact that wayne's pet bird jazz hates it when women are in wayne's house and is violent towards them, leading to wayne deciding that jazz is either a misogynist or simply a gay bird

summoning demons: the channel point reaction available on wayne's channel. it has not been noticed much as of late but isn't really a deep cut so it goes here

is baaulp even gay? is he?

fester's quest: stream that wayne did right before covid hit worldwide where he dressed up as uncle fester, raced an uncle fester game against trog, and promoted head and shoulders in an actual sponsorship

butler sir obsession: reoccurring jokes courtesy of moupi

cyberkidz: a potentially european "lost media" show that rtvs did a full viewing of in the series not for broadcast. here is part 1

slog: fucked up ai copy of trog's voice introduced in the behind the scenes for the gnome streams. example of him.

pjackk cooking rtvs dogs: he used to do this a lot

BBVRAI: refers to the breaking bad but the ai is self aware stream, which was intentionally vague to serve as a hlvrai 2 tease. once the stream actually started people got very mad especially redditors and it was funny. and then they announced hlvrai 2 anyway

tier 3:

a.i.ron chef: classic wayne stream. heres a lovely edit by user lokos

scorpy face reveal gaslighting incident: oh boy. basically during the first cyberkidz stream, there was an extra account that popped up in the call midway through, which started playing a low quality video of a mysterious man eating soup or cereal or something. this ended up being scorpy, who did a face reveal like a few days later to confirm it was him, but during the cyberkidz stream specifically nobody acknowledged him. people in chat started to freak out thinking there was a hacker in the call or some shit, and once it was revealed it was scorpy, people got mad at rtvs for doing a bit where they simply pretended to be oblivious about something. i remember some people saying it was traumatising and that rtvs was gaslighting them. this was during the back end of 2020, which is why this was discourse at all

wayne nudist run: the end of the wayneremembrance stream. the actual deep lore here is the fact that for months wayne had talked about getting ready to move out, and throughout the remembrance stream, acted as though he hadnt yet. this was setup for the end of the stream which features him running in a fake naked suit outside his new house in the empty streets of texas in the middle of the night. i actually regret not titling this one "#whitemanlostintexas", a tag that briefly trended on twitter after this happened. people also got mad about this trending if i remember correctly.

markiplier is a leech: references the fact that markiplier once used wayne's fallout 4 video in a try not to laugh challenge without crediting wayne. and he didnt even laugh at the video. thus, there is a blood feud between the two.

when will wayne finish LISA?: was a joke for a while after wayne never finished streaming the famed rpgmaker title, after he had promised to finish it. people sometimes bring it up in chat like years after as a joke.

rtvs lives: the series trog hosts sometimes

bardin: refers to this song which would get mediashared on some of the later ai dungeon streams quite frequently

chocolate isn't candy: a debate between mira and wayne that originated long before the chuck e cheese debate. put a pin in this one.

tv head scorpy: referring to the typical depiction of scorpy before his face reveal

caine dansand: one of wayne's alerts, a video of a dogy. fun fact: the title is romanian and translates to "dog dancing to manele LOL" manele being a romanian music genre

mariobluegloves.info: i was about to link it until i realised that the site is now dead! it WAS a site of various images of mario with blue gloves featuring very vibrant css

sout park theme song: wayne is the noah in this screenshot

oh its nemo: refers to a story wayne has told on stream at least 4 times where as a child he was at a friend's house and was at the computer, where said friend's mom was checking emails. she clicked on a slideshow of baby pictures with random red dots on the images and the final image was one of nemo from finding nemo with a dot in his eye, which when clicked, led to a screamer of the girl from the exorcist. wayne cites this as his reason for despising screamers as a very scared child

erarg is ryu from streets: referencing this video

waynerpiss saga: referring to twitch banning his piss emote. i am pretty sure it still exists on his channel, simply reversed to read "ssip" nowadays, which was perfectly acceptable to the same twitch moderation that banned the piss sign

tier 3.5:

ytp forums backstory + baaulp keysmash: covered in wdwb episode 5 questions segment — basically just how most people in rtvs met. baaulp keysmashed all his usernames as a teen and "baaulp" happened to be the one he used on said forums

tier 4:

awooga: refers to an alert either gir or scorpy (both i think, actually) had for a period of time that was a recording of lauren going "awooga" on loop that increasingly got louder

donkey factory: video that cannot be referenced on twitch.

human dog keychain: status symbols of the radio and tv

bound to mine: wayne's musical masterpiece which is unlisted on his channel, for some reason. here's the link.

moupi is an english major: explained in the behind the scenes gnome vids stream

the gorilla seems a little stressed out: wayne accidentally triggers his kingdom hearts soundboard while he is acting as a monkey, and it makes him cry. its good

pepper steak: the song from off, a frequent mediashare in the summer of 2020

do you like games?: dead rtvs podcast that got 2 episodes. i think you can listen to it on any place that has the normal wdwb podcast listing. logmore makes a great joke about the band DEVO being buried at E3

woods stream: term used to refer to a hypothetical livestream of hiking in the woods

moupi streams: old streams moupi did that were very compressed and slow on account of his terrible computer. here i will also shout out the ouyster stream he did after hacking scorpy's channel for real

joffrey: wayne's lost son, part of many old streams

headhunter's iliad: comic logmore made as an entry for a contest, which you can read in full here

hatsune mira: before mimi mira was often represented as hatsune miku in fanart, upon her own request

amazon dark stream: please watch this edit of it. its one of my favorite rtvs videos in the world and nobody knows about it. the artistic process behind it is covered in wayneremembrance i think

gordon ramsay audio sting

baaulp's meat room: the guest bedroom in baaulp's house that is apparently very cold with a very tough bed. it has earned the nickname "the meat room" on account of. seeming more befitting for meat than a human being. i forget if there's also a story about his family actually keeping meat in there or if that was just a joke someone made about it. i think it's explained during one of the chulip streams

tier 5:

the pope: figure from rtvs past. old man with a job who hung out with rtvs as teens and bought them steam games. there was apparently an incident involving this guy's credit card. i think this is the most anyone knows about 'the pope'

wayne anti-italian sentiments: saying an uncouth word

pig fetish asks: this explains itself. theres other posts around featuring other responses.

gnome series title change: pretty sure it went through at least two changes? it was initially titled "half life alyx but the gnome is self aware" and wayne changed it to better hit the youtube algo

i am a poop streamer: german man who was streaming from his xbox had tts on and rtvs found his stream and started spamming things in his chat. this man had the option to turn this setting off at any time. he did not. view the experience here

gamesir: this being so low is a recency bias thing actually pardon me. anyway i think wayne explained he bought one of these gamesir things to play splatoon better because he could not beat children at it normally

trog clone hero streams + log art streams: genre of streams done back around 2020, which i put mostly as nostalgiabait for myself

xbox/playstation scorpy: before tv head scorpy we had console themed scorpy and i think one person drew nsfw art of him within this context. yet again 2020 was a strange time

tom and jerry hottest sex scene gaslighting: similar to the scorpy face reveal one, wayne played this video over an ad which "spontaneously" played over one of his ai dungeon streams and he played it off obliviously. people in chat got mad at him and called it gaslighting

rtvs hall of fame document vandlism: see for yourself

mira's podcast: another dark horse favorite of mine. remember the chocolate is candy thing? this is that discussion.

tier 6:

for the first one copying my tags from eaerlier

benrey makeship controversy: very briefly. during the benrey plushie campaign a bunch of people got mad at wayne for partnering with makeship which at the time i think had weird alternate history plushies from another creator on its site and people got very mad about that with some people calling wayne fash for it. yet again 2020 times

you're making sony vegas lag: this is explained in an rtvs lives and the original sekiro chuck e cheese stream. cant be assed to find a timestamp ill do it later but this involves ytp steam chat spam and a "notable pooper" getting mad at rtvs for said spam

caveman arg: this is covered in wayneremembrance, basically there was a little arg wayne did to set up gub gar

homestuck adult fanfiction: video frequently referenced by rtvs, which gets stuck in my head regularly

can baaulp say gringo?: baaulp once said the word gringo to refer to white people and this started up discourse about a) whether baaulp was white b) whether he was allowed to say gringo c) if it was offensive that he said gringo and i think there was like a callout post against him made for this

wayneradiotv is too woke: yet again explained in wayneremembrance, basically a bunch of people made fun of wayne and were like praying for his twitch downfall because he wasnt bigoted enough. very early on in his twitch career

honorary mention of things i wanted to add but forgot:

wayne utauloid that used custom voice samples

wayne's polish ancestry

log is his real name

who woulge being a holly post

scorpy's rocco botte obsession

the microsoft zune

among other things.

attempt at an rtvs iceberg. some tiers can be swapped but influx of new fans + compilation vid trend has made it a bit more difficult to generalize this lol

[automatismoateo]

Forced Bible Readings In Public Schools and the Result No One Talks About. via /r/atheism

Forced Bible Readings In Public Schools and the Result No One Talks About. "Reading the Bible made me an Atheist." - All of us at some point. I live in deep south Texas outside a major city. Kids are inherently anti-establishment in many ways, even here. In some ways, ESPECIALLY the conservative kids. I know, I grew up in a town whose school board challenged the first amendment in the SCOTUS 20 years ago and lost. So many daughters getting knocked up in college, divorced, cheating, etc after leaving home. Even in HS. Teaching the Bible in schools isn't going to create the nation of young Christians they think it is. Kids will do what they always do with books they think are boring and suck and are force fed; look up controversial parts. Next thing you know, elementary school kids are asking why that women was lusting after men with genitals like donkeys or why their older sister needs to be stoned to death because she had a kid outside wedlock. Or if they're going to be put to death because they touched a football at practice. Even those with a few brain cells that barely communicate are going to make a joke out of it. Every classroom will have one of these kids. These passages will spread like wildfire in these school halls and it'll be one big joke. It was like this in my strict Catholic CCE Tuesday night/Sunday morning classes starting as early as I can remember. Boys telling girls they are not permitted to speak because God stated such. And many, many more versions of taking what this book of hate and general ignorance spews. Not to mention a large percentage of these teachers are against teaching religious texts in public schools. I have friends that voted Trump and dont like it. Shit, I got kicked out of AP English in High School because I brought up the latently obvious homosexual theme in Billy Budd. Imagine these blatantly obvious and in your face passages about murder, rape, infanticide, and general shittiness of The Christian God. These teachers are in for a pretty funny interpretation of this silly work of narrow minded, angry, misogynistic and inconsistent goat herder's version of Aesop's Fables. It should go without saying that I am against teaching bible in schools, but I am looking forward to some of these side affects they aren't considering. I know I am going to be teaching my grade school nephew about these passages and encourage him to bring up these passages. It's such an opportunity to create skeptical minds and kids will do a good amount of the work themselves. After all, they're God's words. Edit: imagine a focused campaign on social media highlighting all these passages. It would do so much to undermine them. Submitted November 21, 2024 at 07:50PM by RandomDudeYouKnow (From Reddit https://ift.tt/jsTL0M9)

[hotarutranslations]

2 Ishida Ayumi

Evening

The summer is finally starting, right🌻🌻 Hello Pro Summer🌻🌻

Tomorrow, Hello! Project 2024 Summer ALL OF US "Vega"'s first day!

Its been 4? 5? years since, having a live performance with all of the members

So much has changed in that time~ I spoke about this a bit with Akiyama Mao-chan, While watching the rehearsals

There are many girls where this is the first time, For a Hellocon in this way~~!

Conversely,

For Ishida, and Kawamura Ayano-chan, Its our last Hellocon😌🪽

Now, I'm wondering which way I should go…

That is, for tomorrow,

Should I have the feelings of, Its my first last day of Hellocon!…🤔💭lol

Isn't it nervous if you're conscious of it being the last? Saying that myself,

Its true that its the last one so I want to send that out? Saying that myself,

I'm of 2 minds 🤔💭lol

Its funny🥴🥴🥴 I find that kind of self funny🥴🥴🥴

I'm sorry for writing "last, last" so much! lol

I wrote a various things but, I'll enjoy it in any case! The live! I'm happy!

Unlike with a solo performance I'm not standing on stage the whole time so…

With my limited moments, I'll do my best to leave myself there🫶🏻 I'm looking forward to it🫶🏻

non-no September extra edition

Morning Musme '24 we'll be appearing on the cover💎

Everyone is cute💎

‪🦜‬

Please definitely check it out! It releases on July 20th!

I was writing this while watching the rehearsal footage, I'm sorry this ended up being late!

Play▶️List

Graduation Announcement Blog🐣🪽

Hello! Station #531 I also talk about my graduation in this video

📺Hello Pro Dance Gakuen Season 11

Every other Thursday at 11:30PM~ Learning Locking from HIYORI-san

📺Sendai Broadcast "Ara Ara Kashiko" Ishida Ayumi Goes~! I appear once a month as part of the AraKashi Family

The previous shows, and makings, are on OX VIDEO STORE!

Thank you for following.. Instagram💙🩵

💿 August 14th new single✨ "Nandaka Sentimental na Toki no Uta/saiKIYOU"

Cheki Sign Talk Meet Announcement

̗̀📣You Can Apply On This Site

̗̀📣Limsta

🪩The MusiQuest 2024 July 21st (Sun) PiaArena MM

We're challenging a new festival stage❤️‍🔥 Absolutely, Definitely, Thank you for your support❤️‍🔥

🪩Hello! Project 2024 Summer ALL OF US "Vega" "Altair" From July 13th~September 1st Traveling To 7 Cities Nationwide All Hello! Project groups are performing🔥

⚾️"Hawks SUMMER BOOST" July 28th (Sun) Mizuho PayPay Dome Fukuoka

After the match, we'll be having a live!

📚July 20th Release "non-no September" special issues cover is, Morning Musume '24

Preorders are here

Releasing on July 23rd

"Up To Boy vol.341" September Issue I will be on the 7net limited cover page

🦜‬

📻Morning Musume '24 Morning Jogakuin ~Houkago Meeting~

Airs Every Saturday, On Radio Nihon at 12:00AM~

Past Broadcast Episodes Are Available →Program Details

I visited as a guest🪽 "Sayashi Riho and The Time From Now On" presented by Meiji Bulgarian Yogurt

see you ayumin <3 https://ameblo.jp/morningmusume-10ki/entry-12859683283.html

[superblysubpar]

Chapter 8!!! Ahh!! You never miss! Just Steve being in love with reader for years and he just stayed bickering with you because at least it was some interaction with you and it was better than not having you in his life at all ahh The coffee and brown bag 😞 I was so sad to see it go to waste lol and both of them crying 😭 and just us being scared and wanting to just run and leave and hide 🥺

Ooh and since you love questions and I’m eager to hear your answers, what has been your favorite part to write in the series so far? And I remember reading your original first part and loving this concept, so it's been exciting to reread that first chapter and see the little differences. I’d love to know how this “re-release” differ from what you originally planned? Oooh ooh and if this bet didn’t happen, how do you think Steve and reader would eventually find themselves together?

don't mind me, just sobbing before 9am, it's cool.

This really did make my morning and week, truly. I'm so glad you loved chapter 8! And funny you mention steve just bickering for some interaction, I have a few lines about this in the last chapter actually, so I'm so glad you've already picked up on that's what he was doing! And right? I would fold if that boy brought me coffee and a treat and we just broke his heart and now it's in the trash?! come on!!

also questions!!!!!! oh these questions!! I'm so sorry, I truly can't shut up!

I don't know if I've had a specific part that I've loved more than the others. They all have felt really fun and good to write, even the sucky angsty parts. I did really love the flashback of the spin the bottle party, and the diner with steve, and also the car accident scene. But I think overall, I've loved the challenge and practice I made this out to be for myself. I wanted to not take it so seriously with editing and what not and just write and I have a good time, and I hope the fun and love I'm putting into it is coming out. I also challenged myself to do more "scenes", focus on my dialogue, and conveying a lot of different (and constantly changing) emotions in few words and back story. For screenwriting, I don't get to do so much inner head monologues for a character, and it's been a challenge for me to switch to that mindset sometimes!

As for the "re-release", so I actually did not have any flashbacks planned until I wrote the bike one in chapter 2 and was like...hold on...which kind of took my plot and twisted it up. Which, funny enough, a screenwriting podcast I listen to was like, sometimes you have this thought, and you have to keep throwing things up and questioning it and sometimes it sucks, cause it breaks your entire plot but you know it's the right move and you're back to square one. Which is exactly what happened haha. That flashback just sort of poured out of me and at the time, I was like, okay I'll make it work. But the more I tried to write the original plot, the more I was like, obviously this isn't the story I want or need to write. Originally, there was no "we've both been in love forever" plot, I was trying to strictly write an enemies to lovers. I wanted them to just hate each other and I wanted steve to fall while plotting against reader and I wanted reader to fall harder despite being plotted against. I wanted a big blow up of steve taking the money from eddie and reader thinking that's all he wanted and for steve to realize that wasn't all he wanted. But alas, here we are, and I'm so happy and proud of how it changed.

And oh my gosh, what a great question. I like to think that they're obviously forced to be around each other through work and friends, and the more time spent together, the more Steve falls and gets the nerve to do something about it. I do think maybe there'd have to be some sort of vulnerable moment still, like the very first storm and the hand holding in the basement - something that makes him seem not so annoying and evil to reader and something that shows Steve she doesn't hate him, not really. And then I think Steve would just keep trying to flirt - conversations like the one in the car when he asked "did you ever stop and think that maybe I've never even tried because I knew you wouldn't listen" and reader just 👁👄👁 at him. until they kiss and love each other because, hello, no bet and miscommunication about feelings! But that's no fun 😉

So, long story, not short, thank you so much for reading and thank you so much for letting me ramble and ramble and ramble some more, you're an angel. 💛