#actually writing out your tone like im doing here is probably the most helpful way to ellucidate what you mean than any “/whatever”s

[hikineet-trash]

Anyways if you see me being horny about spacebats at 7-godforsaken-A.M....(Tone: uptalk, false suspense, setup to a punchline.)

No you didn't. (Tone: Flat delivery, faux-severity, punchline.)

Mind your own business. (Tone: Ineffectual non-serious threat.)

[sytoran]

𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝐏𝐓.𝟐

following your erotically fantastical encounter with the mother of the kids you babysit, the aftermath is more of a rollercoaster than you could have ever precedented.

🌸 pairing: milf!pregnant!wanda x dom!babysitter!reader

🌸 cont: smut (18+), mommy kink (wanda), lactation kink, body worship, praise kink, power bottom sex-deprived milf 🤝beefy college service top footballer

🌸 word count: 2042

🌸 note: THIS IS SO LONG-AWAITED im sorry..... also i know im supposed to be writing for kinktober but milf!pregnant!wanda was invading every corner of my mind so here ya go. not proof-read!

part one || main masterlist

“Come on, Y/N, you’re not going to the party tonight?” Natasha grumbles, grabbing the sleeve of your bomber jacket as you try your darndest to escape your friends.

It was the fated next day following your erotically fantastical encounter with Wanda, and you had just completed your classes. As you strolled out of campus grounds, the sun was already setting. It painted a picturesque view of the orange horizon, but truthfully, you only cared about getting back to Wanda for that promised ‘tomorrow’. 

“I told you no, Nat,” you reply with a playful sternness that the others laugh at. It was no secret that Natasha had a crush on you, ever since you first sat next to her in the lecture hall and got a little flirty and perhaps a little too handsy. 

It was also no secret that for every lecture after that, you would sit next to a different girl and activities of the same sort would ensue. Most of the time, those encounters would end up with a pretty girl trapped between the wall of a cramped supply closet and you.

“They’ve probably got a secret girlfriend,” Tony adds unhelpfully, with that classic smirk you want to punch off his face sometimes. 

“Really?” Steve asks genuinely, ever the innocently clueless one. “Is she younger than us?”

“Oh, definitely,” Sam chimes in. “Have you seen the freshmen ‘round our beloved Y/N?”

“Feral,” Carol states in resolution. “They crowd at the field to watch Y/N during football practice.”

“And of course, Y/N doesn’t bother to hide the way she leads them all on!” Natasha adds in partial indignation, nudging you suggestively. “That’s totally your type, hm? Younger, pretty girls who chase after you with a puppy love? Is that why my forward advances have always ended in flames?”

You grin half-heartedly, awkward in the spotlight of your love life. For one, your friends couldn’t be more wrong about this ‘secret girlfriend’ you had. Younger, innocent girls? More like smoking hot single moms in their late thirties.

It was strange, even, how you would normally take these girls’ teasing in your stride, almost basking in the glory of being the most sought-after student on campus. 

But with the looming thought of Wanda intercepting every brain wave of yours, months of pining surmounting to a heated make-out session with the hope for something more, all else was forsaken. 

You try not to think about the implications of that too hard.

As your friends continue to bicker about the prospect of your secret girlfriend, you seize the well-earned distraction and weasel your way out.

Sooner than you’d care to admit, you’re standing outside Wanda’s home, skateboard in hand. You’re buzzing in anticipation with your flushed face and windswept hair.

Before you can doubt yourself and backtrack, you knock on the door sharply, twice. You can’t help but smirk at the muffled shriek that follows, then a muted shuffle, then silence. Your heart hammers in your ribcage. You really were about to do this.

“Come in, sweetheart,” the mother calls out with a sugary tone that feeds your ever-increasing libido.

You open the unlocked door, mentally preparing yourself to face Wanda once more. 

But then you actually lay your eyes upon her ethereal figure, and your athlete-hardened knees nearly buckle.

Fuck.

Sprawled out on the sofa like something out of a classic Renaissance painting is Wanda, clad in nothing but a lacy set of dark red lingerie, the most sultry look on her face that draws all the air out of your lungs.

You’d never seen a more attractive woman, pregnant or not.

The way the lacy bra hugs her swollen breasts tighter, pushing the cleavage to be even more visible, the way her thick thighs are spread to reveal those beautiful stretch marks.

“Fuck,” you say, a lot higher pitched than you would care to admit. It seems to be the only word currently circulating in your mind, your studied vocabulary flying out of the window at the sight of Wanda presenting herself for you like a well-earned present.

“See something you like?” Wanda dares to tease, left hand trailing along the lace of her bra, dipping into the ample cleavage that leaves you salivating. 

It takes approximately three seconds for you to kick the door shut, yank off your jacket and nearly dislocate your shoulder, then press against Wanda like it was always meant to be.

The kiss you pull her into is the opposite of gentle, your head slanting to deepen the kiss immediately, tongues meeting like planets bound to collide, bound to cross paths and cause an eclipse.

Wanda moans into the kiss, and you can barely hide your pleasure at that noise. You wanted to hear it a thousand times over, the breathless cry of your name, the begging tone of the older woman.

It was so wrong, but nothing had felt more right.

Wanda’s relinquishment of power doesn’t last too long, though, because before you can impatiently rip off the fabric of her lingerie, she threads her fingers into your hair and forcefully tugs you closer to her chest.

“My house, my rules,” Wanda states, and you’d be lying if you didn’t feel a rush of arousal coursing through your veins at Wanda’s motherly sense of control.

“Yes, ma’am,” you mutter, half-jokingly, but when your peripheral view catches Wanda visibly aroused by that, you know it isn’t going to be the last time you address her as that.

Your hand slides under Wanda’s body to unclasp the bra, letting out an affected noise at the sight of her full tits on display.

“Shit,” you grunt, pausing for a moment to admire the view.

Throughout the months of babysitting Billy and Tommy, you had only ever discreetly checked out Wanda’s cleavage, or perhaps stare a little too hard when she wore scanty dresses that showed off her side boobs.

Now, with those perfect, swollen mounds right before your face, you give into your urges to bury your face between them. You groan at the sensation of Wanda’s milk leaking out of her hardened nipples, your mouth moving to suckle at her breasts.

“Shit, baby,” Wanda cries, throwing her head back as you drink right out of her breasts, lapping fervently. It wasn’t entirely sexual per se, but the sheer relief of lightening that weight load in her breasts was a pleasure in itself.

You get slightly drunk off the feeling of Wanda’s breasts in your mouth, and it takes Wanda a surprising amount of strength to get your head away from her chest eventually.

“You’re a bit too obsessed with my tits,” Wanda teases, swiping her milk off your lips with her thumb, tilting your head down to lock eyes with her. The tension between the two of you is palpable, thick in the air, and you long to drown in that desire.

You only smirk back, hands resting on the hem of her thong. “May I undress you now, ma’am?” you emphasise, tilting your head to the side in faux innocence.

“So polite,” Wanda retorts right back, fingertips tracing the curve of your jawline as a smile plays on her lips. “How could I say no to such a gentleman?”

That’s all the confirmation you need before you snap the elastic of Wanda’s red thong, stuffing the flimsy material into the pocket of your pants. What you’d do with it later was for another day.

You kiss down Wanda’s breasts to her swollen belly, firm but gentle, then you flatten out your tongue when it reaches her wet heat.

“I couldn’t pay attention,” you growl, licking a long stripe up Wanda’s pussy. “In any of my fucking classes today,” you continue, tongue flicking at her puffy clit. “‘Cause I was thinking ‘bout all the ways I could fuck that pretty cunt.” 

The filthy moan that leaves Wanda’s lips at your words rings around the confines of the four walls. 

It had been so long since Wanda experienced such mindblowing sex; She had been sexually repressed because of Vision’s busy schedule, and it was torture because pregnancy pretty much solidified her daily sexual arousal. 

But what with her split from him meaning no more mediocre sex, and the prospect of a hot babysitter entering her life, Wanda’s pregnancy hormones had skyrocketed to an all-time high.

Long gone were the nights she held a vibrator against her clit under the sheets, eyes screwed shut as thoughts of you swam in her head. Long gone were the times she helplessly fingered herself in the shower, wishing her fingers belonged to you instead. 

Now, your head was buried between her thighs, your mouth like the devil on her cunt, fast-paced and unforgiving and everything Wanda had always longed for.

“You’re perfect,” you grunt into the older woman’s wet heat, the vibrations of your rough tone sending jolts of arousal up Wanda’s body. “You’re so fucking perfect, Wanda.”

“D-Don’t say that,” she answers breathlessly, fingernails digging into your scalp. “You’ve slept with plenty of other younger, prettier girls than me.” 

The insecurity Wanda felt about her body had mainly stemmed from Vision, who was always going on about how she had become less attractive after pregnancy, with the stretch marks and the added fat and other blemishes on her skin.

“I don’t know about that,” you say, relentless in your worshipping of Wanda’s body. The way you were treating her like a temple was overriding the false beliefs Vision had planted into her head. “‘Cause now when I think about those other girls in bed they all end up looking like you.”

At that, Wanda feels tears prick in the back of her eyes, her gaze blurring as she stares at you. ‘

You, who had entered her life like a ray of hope, brightening up her every day with a blindingly charming smile and a selfless heart. You, who had treated her with more care and respect than any man she had ever been with before. You, who tied up all her loose ends and sewed it up to form the shape of a pretty little heart.

“I love you,” Wanda whispers, the words spilling from the tip of her tongue before she can control it. Her breath constricts afterwards when your mouth finally stops to register her words. 

“I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to realize it,” Wanda continues, breathless, pushing aside your hair to properly look at you in the eyes. “But I do love you, Y/N L/N.”

Wanda feels something wet on her inner thigh, something that’s not her own slick. It takes a moment for her to realize that it’s your tears.

“I’ve loved you since I first laid my eyes on you,” you confess, eyes shining. “I think I was just scared to believe it until today, too.”

Heartstrings get tugged like a harp, crescendoing into a beautiful symphony that was finally requited love, finally coming to a high, finally reaching its summit.

The lust that encaptures the two of you dissipates into a warm glow of love, the tension easing into trials of romance. 

When you dive back in between Wanda’s thighs, you’re determined and emotional and ultimately choked with new possibilities.

You could already imagine cooking dinners together with Wanda, reading the kids bedtime stories, chastising them to go and brush their teeth, stealing kisses when they fell asleep.

You could already map out a navigation of your future years, down millions of paths and possibilites that all brought you to Wanda Maximoff. She was your life, your truth, your unbreakable vow.

With that, her first orgasm comes in a tidal wave, like rushing water breaking free from a dam. 

Wanda sobs, riding your face as she comes harder than she’s ever had in her life, squirting all over your face and the sofa, all else forgotten.

Your expert tongue and naturally-skilled fingers bring her to another plane of existence, where she was floating above the universe, where your name was chanted like a mantra.

The world around you faded as Wanda’s thighs wrapped around your head, as you dived down once more to worship, as you dived down once more to chase the love of your life.

This was the only happy ever after you needed.

hope yall liked it 😋 reblogs are much appreciated!!

main masterlist || AO3

[ceilidho]

This is in no way of hating but i want to know why do you enjoy writing noncon/rape? When I first downloaded tumblr which was couple of months ago i was surprised by the amount of noncon fics here. I eventually came to enjoy them which makes me question myself. Whenever i read a noncon fic and enjoy it i feel like im betraying women who actually went through those traumatic events. Plus I actually don't really like dark romance books? I love cod dead dove and that is mainly because i really love the characters and the authors are so talented. I rambled so much and i hope you don't get this in the wrong way i don't mean to hate AT ALL i love the stuff you write. Maybe i shouldn't think too much and let myself enjoy what im reading lol

first of all, no worries! i wasn't sure about your tone/intentions at first, but by the end i was totally fine with the question.

i actually don't mind talking about this stuff - i just sometimes avoid it on main because i prefer chatting about it privately.

second, i'm no psychologist or sociologist, so i probably won't be able to give you the most satisfactory answer, but i think there are a lot of different reasons. i can only name a few. one thing i should mention right off the bat is that rape fantasies are very normal (and this is true whether you're a survivor of SA or not) and writing/reading fiction can be a safe way to process those thoughts/feelings.

one of prevailing reasons is, of course, that many survivors of SA use noncon/dubcon literature/art as a way of processing their experiences and taking ownership of their trauma.

and look, people are going to go back and forth on this point (i've seen it all before - many people refuse to believe that engaging with noncon lit/art is helpful, and in fairness, it's NOT helpful for everyone because every person is different), but at the end of the day, if a survivor tells you "writing/reading this was helpful in my recovery" then that's that!

additionally, for many women and non-binary folk (i can only speak as a cis woman, but i'm sure this is a shared lived experience across many different people), we're also taught from a very young age to suppress our sexual desires / that being open about our sexuality is morally reprehensible and shameful. and a lot of people carry that shame for years, impacting them well into adulthood. so dubcon/noncon fantasies can be a way of being able to enjoy sexual scenarios where you don't have to be the initiator, thus taking away some of the emotional weight and shame.

plus, at the end of the day (and im sure many people will disagree with this take, it's something that i'm still figuring out myself), there is a kind of weird underlying consent implicit in dark fics. like, you might be reading a fic or novel that's ostensibly noncon, but you're also actively seeking out that literature (hopefully it's not just sprung on you - i do very much agree with tagging to the fullest extent and my lukewarm take is that I think all books, even traditionally published ones, should come with content/trigger warnings too).

there are a medley of reasons why someone might write or read dark fiction/dark romance. again, i'm just one person and i can only speak from my own experience!

i think at the end of the day, the important thing to realize is that fiction is fake, and as long as the writer appropriately tags their work and ensures that the audience is aware of what they're getting into when they start reading, they're not coercing the reader into something they aren't prepared for.

and it's totally fine if you have limits (like, you can read and enjoy dubcon, but not noncon) or can't engage with the material at all, but it's also unfair to say that it reflects someone's real life values - the same way that we don't say that the people who enjoy crime fiction must love murder.

and the last thing i want to say because this got a bit out of hand lol, is that, yes, for some people dark fiction is genuinely harmful, whether or not they're a survivor. it's not for everyone and that's completely fine and i'm aware of that, which is why i agree that you should tag as much as possible (even if you feel like you're overdoing it sometimes), but someone else's discomfort doesn't give them the right to tell you how to process your own emotions/experiences/desires/etc.

as long as no one's getting hurt, there's no issue as far as i'm concerned. and sorry but, no one's getting hurt by reading a fic or a novel unless the author didn't give proper content warnings - if you "forgot" to read the tags or read anyway DESPITE being warned, im sorry but that's life.

[lupins-hehim-pussy]

Hi i have sigewinne thoughts id like to hear your takes on

It is established that sigewinne is in the fortress wayyyy before wrio because she was also incarcerated for something right (or maybe she just has weird lingo that makes it SOUND like she committed a crime idk). And its still unclear exactly when she went from being an inmate to a working nurse (could be the same as wrio or she was also one of the people who chose to stay in meropide after her sentence is over who knows).

But like the warden before wrio is horrible iirc. And idk man horrible warden would equal unhappy, starving, desperate, and violent (and most importantly DEAD!) prisoners right?

I know melusines has this higher being-esque distant way of how they view humanity. They talk about humans being adorable like how humans would describe pets and animals. Im not saying its in a deragotory way, but theyre... a lil bit tone deaf because of it ya know. Like they KNOW they should do good for good sake but not exactly comprehend that good would make humans feel good (sedene literally went 'ah yes i remember that when humans are sad, you feed them, then theyre not sad!)

Do you think sigewinne would just... people watch? Would help humans that approach her yeah but she just... is aware that the humans around her are the sad and the hungry. And they are just less so when the warden changed? I doubt ANYONE would stay in meropide after their sentence during the previous warden era, but her staying solely to people watch and keep them healthy isnt.... that... farfetched.

And i love sigewinne, would probably need that level of distance to be a tiny nurse in a fortress of criminals. I just wonder how she is during the previous warden era because i dont really see her getting along with them either (or the warden kept her around for free labour who knows)

Sorry for the late reply, my social spoon has been low. The yap machine broke LOL

ANYWAY the melusines. I do honestly think Genshin Often write themselves into a hole with how they want to keep things "light" while still ... doing ... dark crazy shit. Putting a Melusine in Jail. Why. And also genshin's writer team is just... not good. But we have been through that I've rambled At Length about what I think there so.

Here's specific thoughts about Sigewinne.

Firstly............ what? I haven't touched new content since Fontaine MSQ finished, disclaimer, so I'm just taking your word for it. Secondly, making Sigewinne an ex convict is just so immensely Dumb of Mihoyo because that meant. Neuvillette had to sentence her. Right?? And how is That not more prominent to his story than him having to sentence Vautrin or even Wriothesley for that matter, given how he canonically feels about the Melusines and their safety. Sending one of them to Prison, where all of the Bad Guys who Hates Him and would kill the Melusines to get back at him. would ... have to fuck him up. Like he reacted so severely to just Hate Mail. How was Sigewinne's story Not At All impactful to his?

This is almost surely a Teams Not Communicating and/or Mihoyo Haven't Released Her So Everything About Her is Under Wraps thing. Which also makes no sense because.................. Wriothesley's sentence was literally referenced by that file on Neuvillette's desk. Which by the way is insane like sir it has been years. Put it away. But did they do anything like that for Sigewinne? I dunno. Haven't played in ages. The fact that she works down there At All is kinda wack if you consider how protective Neuvillette is.

So........ like... were the Melusines around even Before he was Iudex? He only brought them out of the water and into Fontaine but it's not stated that they're actually younger than him... or younger than 500 years right....... Was she sentenced by the Previous Archon? How can MHY tell a story that says so much and yet answers nothing.

Anyway, about Sigewinne and the Melusines' inaction specifically, I don't actually mind too much. They are so extremely different from humans in terms of how they age and what their maturity looks like, and that it's not too hard for me to grasp that they're just gonna act in ways that make them seem................... so out of touch. This layer actually adds so much to them in my mind in terms of how their immortality works compared to say, the Adepti, and how their emotions and memory function. I once had a thought that because they are so unaffected by loss and death all around them that they might... literally... be one of the only immortal species on Teyvat that is immune to corrosion lol. Or at least, the emotional anguish kind. In the sense they're almost like slimes. Where they just:

1. Don't recall their history with much intensity at all (that one melusine literally forgot Carole died. Or maybe it wasn't made clear to her that one of them just vanished. Maybe a lot more Melusines have died than we thought).

2. Don't care. #Live in the moment.

3. Don't ruminate (I literally said this in my fic funnily enough AHAHAHA).

Like if anyone in Fontaine is truly seriously impartial to humans, its them. Their ability to be so detached to suffering looks Frightening to outsiders (layering on their history with discrimination here lmao) but in actuality, if you consider that they're legitimately another species with a different brain, you'd be able to see their behaviour through less of a moral lense. It's literally as if they don't fully comprehend life and death— even Carole doesn't seem to fully understand death itself. And they forget things (Elynas, their 'father') which is arguably Not Erosion (forgetting small stuff is normal, and if you live as long as they do, yeah, you're better off forgetting things from 298274 years ago). Even if they remember it's probably like. Oh, that was sad! Anyway, what was I doing?

They just don't. Ruminate. They aren't built like that.

And I don't think that means that they don't care. They're just genuinely very different from humans in how they think and feel. And I refrain from saying "they're autistic" or "emotionally stunted" because these are human conditions and human terms, even if I very much frame my understanding of them through my understanding of these other human conditions. Which is why Neuvillette isn't exactly autistic either. But it's very Hard to say in his case because there's not exactly. Other Water Dragons for us to compare to and see if his cognitive/emotional abilities are Different from them (Unless it's modern au. In which yeah, he is lmao). But all the Melusines have this sort of detachment as if like, emotionally, they don't have... the trauma function basically. Or at least not one that's comprehensible to us.

So in my head, I do think Sigewinne tries her best, but she just simply isn't as emotionally charged by her experiences as, say, Wriothesley. She worked in Meropide while Wriothesley was sentenced there, so she did work under the previous warden as well, and I'm sure she did her job Well and she had her own way of caring for people but if they drop dead... genuinely, I think she'd just be like. "Aw, how sad. Anyway, I have other people to treat." Which, arguably, makes her a much more efficient nurse LMAO.

And it may seem so cruel to people do view her through a humanistic lense, but if you see it as like, if she's reached the level of enlightenment that Buddhist practitioners could only Dream of, and she's able to literally let these heavy events wash over her without letting it affect her, all while still being a caring being, this all would hopefully feel less uncomfortable. I do genuinely think she cares, but her emotional range and cognition just reaches. This point. Which is fine and doesn't make her inherently a bad character or person, I think.

I do literally think she can sit down with someone grieving and be like, "I understand that you are going through a process, and I will let you process things at your own rate, while I administer care as well as I can."

And they can be like, "Why don't you give a shit that they died?!!"

And she'd be like, "Would me feeling worse bring them back?"

Then, depends on how they react, she would continue like. "Unfortunately I do not feel things the same way that you do, and I do understand that humans often want their conversation partners to be able to relate to them, to feel as though they aren't alone in their feelings. Perhaps if you attend the memorial later, you'd be able to find those who can grieve with you. But if you feel any pain, or need any medicine, I will be here to help you!"

Yknow like. She's not Unkind. But she's very much... not gonna feel the same way about death as her patients. If anything this might make her the Best Suited person to be in charge of care in Meropide, and she might have already figured that out herself, and was like, "Monsieur Neuvillette, only I can do this without going insane. Please let me do this."

And he's like............... (shaking with fear for her) "Alright."

[not-poignant]

salut pia!

ive been wondering? how do you handle/change modes when you’re writing across AUs/fics? i mean not only the personality/attribute changes (like role reversal with ef and gwyn) but also change in…oh how do i say this..when a character is a MC in one but side/minor in another? bc they are different devices to different stories, how do you keep an overview of how much you reveal, go into so as to not side track from the main story or change the “flow”. example: whenever theres mentions of gender identity and betas somethin somethin feeling like omegas somethin somethin comes up “casually” sirens go off in my head and then i realise wait faber is NOT the MC in this story this is not about him him but its a little bit about him him. and then i feel like im standing behind a glass wall looking from Utb/Utg to Utr screaming at faber but he is a NPC here so we dont know whats going on in his head. that scene with ef and him eating carrots?…. i would give my right foot and skin tone copic markers to be a fly on the wall in fabers POV (the timelines probably wont align for it to happen but would you ever consider sth like this?? a scene overlapp across stories i mean?)

i’ve mostly read within that universe but ive also read spoils where your characters have completely different..positions? roles? weight? than in rainbow. so yeah how do you keep it all “appropriate” or “fitting” for their roles in different stories. like a puppet master

cheers xx

Hi anon,

So this is going to be not very helpful, but I don't write this stuff down for the most part.

This is the stuff I find so easy that this is why this is my job, in a way. I don't have a list of 'different Efnisiens' to keep track of, or 'different Gwyns.' They become themselves within the story. If I read a chapter of the story I get back into it (actually often I just need to listen to a song or put on the right playlist). Every version of a character is kind of there right now. I know how each would respond to something, and how those things would be the same or vary based on life experiences and the question etc.

I don't do really much at all to change modes. I just...do. There is no overview. It's all in my head. I'd say some of this goes down to how long / how many years I've spent studying character and dialogue overall. But even when I was younger I found this pretty easy, and transplanting characters into different situations to see how they'd react similarly / differently was one of my favourite kinds of exercises even when I was a teenager.

Some of it is knowing focus. Faber's side story is interesting, for those who like Faber and/or Underline the Red, hints about his gender struggles are fascinating, but they can only ever be hints, because I'm mindful that many readers aren't interested in Faber except as a minor character, and haven't read Underline the Red.

The focus is always Efnisien and Gary. Other characters can have their own lives and motivations, but it won't be more than that in the main story. Though I can go into a bit more detail because of the length of the story which is really nice for building out side characters / ensemble cast.

As to crossover perspectives, I don't know! I know we'll see some of Faber's perspective of Efnisien arriving at Hillview in Underline the Red, but obviously things impact characters differently at different times, I don't know what will be most important by the time we get to Faber's side of things. I used to write alternative perspectives as side chapters for Fae Tales though, and that could be a lot of fun.

so yeah how do you keep it all “appropriate” or “fitting” for their roles in different stories.

I saw a video by Hank Green I think once where he said the reason sportspeople are so good at their sports is in part because they're physically often the best at that sport anyway. Like, ballerinas have a certain build, swimmers have a certain build, and any training they do works to support that and make them better, but they were 'built' out for those sports in the first place. Some people have yoga bodies. I have a swimming body and swimming shoulders.

And I feel like this is true sometimes with writing. I don't try to keep it appropriate or fitting, I just know that the ensemble characters can't matter as much as the main characters in the course of the story. That's what a story is. That's what a main character and an ensemble character is. I would say years of experience has made this part of writing mostly easy and fun for me, so I don't have to think or overthink about this stuff anymore. At worst I might think 'was that too much Faber? Eh, it's helping Efnisien, it's still important to the plot and his character arc.'

I'm 'built' for writing big worlds with big ensemble casts where all the characters are important but where the focus is only on a couple of main characters per story. I'm built for character-focused stories and seem to be very built for transplanting characters I love into different worlds (and different roles) to see how that changes things. I started wanting to write these kinds of worlds and characters when I was 10 years old, and had my first sprawling ensemble fantasy series started by the age of 11. By the age of 15 I had a 3 novel fantasy trilogy built out with about 20 significant characters, and it was ridiculous and silly but that was what I wanted to write.

And I guess you could say I haven't really changed, I've just gotten better at it. I hope to keep getting better at it! The challenge now is to figure out how to break down some of these skills so I can share them with others. But...I do think there's an element of 'this is just what I love, it's a special interest, I don't know how to convey that I have 30 years of special interest in reading, writing, and studying this thing across television, manga, manhwa, fanfiction, AUs, and fictional series.' There will be teachable skills in that, but I don't know how much osmosis / absorption / and being obsessed with entangled tapestries of stories makes up what I do.

In some ways it would be 'better' if I was built for more conventional storytelling. My bank account might like that more! BUT, I'm doing okay where I'm at, because I love it, and I try to share that with other people and see if I can tell stories that resonate with them too.

(There are aspects of what I do that are very hard for me - timelines, aspects of worldbuilding, pacing in the first arc, and so on, but the actual characterisation part, and creating multiple versions of the same character is as easy as breathing. I could give you four more different versions of Faber in an hour. Maybe even twenty minutes. It's not hyperbole, it's just...how I daydream, what I think about. And it's fun!)

I'm very very very lucky that other folks are willing to read the same characters across different narratives, because it's a very strange thing to do in writing outside of fanfiction, case in point being that we almost never see any other professional authors doing it with their original works. x.x

[bismuthburnsblue]

Help me design a dress!

this is our fabric! (left is the product image, right is my actual piece of fabric- ruler on the left is cm, on the right is inches, to give you an idea of print scale) its the black version of the break up robe print, in a lightweight & crisp cotton. i have 4.5m (5y) so it should be enough to make most designs, though some will require consideration in the cutting- we will get to that later though. (the fabric is also narrow, i think its only 110cm wide. (its still folded in the picture))

my goal here is to make a comfy wearable dress, something pretty casual & everyday in silhouette, but i would also like if it was possible to style up for a more formal look. most of my inspiration for this project has come from 1950s dresses, because thats a style i lean towards for myself, though im not aiming for anything "true vintage" or anything. im also fond of lolita dresses, so im more than down to draw inspiration from those also!

also, the print is pretty bold compared to my usual style, so ive considered doing some kind of translucent (chiffon, tulle, mesh) overlay to tone it down so its more wearable in my wardrobe. this will entirely depend on it working with out final design, and even then, ill offer you the decision at the end! ultimately, i still want to be able to appreciate the fabric. (for sewing people: id intend to do it as a flat lining, so it sits right up against the fabric underneath, not as a complete separate layer. i find this makes it block out the design slightly less) doing this could also help with adding structure to the dress, which i already think some designs might need, considering how thin the fabric is.

ok now the brief is out of the way, onto the first decision for the dress: the shape of the skirt. if you want to vote based entirely on vibes, feel free to click away, but i have included some more writing about each option & its ups and downs in this particular project under the cut (also pictures of each style if youre not so familar with what they are!)

& the propaganda for the options:

Circle skirt: you can never go wrong with a circle skirt- theyre probably my favourite to wear overall & i especially like the low bulk join to the waist as i sometimes find things with gathers dont sit as nicely on me. the way circle skirts are cut also gives them a movement that the other two methods simply cannot compete with in my eyes.

The main downside is working a circle skirt with this particular fabric. the fabric is not wide enough to cut the entire front as one, so i would either need a centre front seam or to make it a 3/4 circle skirt- something im 100% ok with, i honestly find at midi length a full circle to be too much sometimes. (there is technically the option to have full circle but rotate it so the seams are at side, but that might then mean i have to do some shenanigans with where the fastenings go). also, because the design is directional, each quarter will need to be cut so the seams end up on the bias, which makes for an Incredibly inefficient cutting layout. (again, if theres a CF seam, thatll be on the diagonal of the design, which really defeats the point of putting in the effort in the first place, to me.) i think i would be able to get all the panels i need out of the piece of fabric i have, but i think i would be a bit more limited with top options as i try to make sure to use as many of the small pieces left over as possible.

Gathered skirt: these are by far the easiest to do in terms of sewing. in my research into casual 50's dresses about 90% of all pictures i saw featured a dress with a gathered skirt (or actually, a lot seemed to have tiny pleats that give the effect of gathers, like the coral one. if we vote this way, i would be tempted to go try them as i think it might solve my bothers with gathered skirts in general)

i generally find gathered skirts less flattering on me- they add bulk at the waist and then hang straight down off the hips (when not puffed up with a petticoat) and thats generally not something i like on myself. i could improve that though by bringing more fabric in to increase the hem, and adding horsehair braid to the hem to help it swoop without additional support (again, my goal for this project is causal day dress)

this pattern uses the least fabric i think, depending on how much you put in the skirt- i think i should get a perfectly satisfactorily full skirt from this with less than 2m of fabric used. (honestly might end up too efficient- id like to use up all the fabric i have in this, and i really dont need that much for a bodice. i can see myself adding 4, even 5 widths into the skirt to use up yardage. i dont particularly see that as a problem though)

despite my reservations because of gathered skirts ive made before, for this project it does have one massive point in its favour: the fact that its still a full piece of fabric. all other styles here all cut quite significantly into the design to create their shape, while this be one panel of the fabric from edge to edge. preserving the design of this fabric is pretty high on my priority list, after all, i bought this fabric specifically because it was the OFMD break up robe print. i want whatever design i make to work with that.

Tiered skirt: for me, tiered skirts are the best of both worlds in terms of the effect they give. the fact each layer doubles means they keep some of the swish a circle skirt gives (and, i find, they tend to have more of the A-Line shape of a circle skirt too) while not being quite so consuming of fabric as you cut. i couldnt find many examples of 50's dresses with them (though i did find some) so i do feel like this style pulls more towards the style of lolita dresses & that might be reflected in the options i offer in subsequent rounds.

if you know anything about petticoats, then youll notice that this style of skirt is essentially the same construction as them (though petticoats often introduce extra layers and ruffles and.....) when ive made this style of skirt in the past i have found that it holds volume much like a petticoat does, without the need for an extra undergarment- something thats great for a casual dress!

I was thinking three tiers is the ideal number for this dress, though i could make it only two. i dont think i would make it more as, if i keep them even (which was my intention, though i am also fond of the styles that increase with each tier like my example images) then each tier will probably be 20cm wide, which is already looking like itll cut into the features of the design. i think that is the single biggest downside for this style- i wont reasonably be able to do much 'fussy cutting' either to work with the print, its simply not practical to do on this scale.

At a rough estimate, i think this is gonna use 3m of fabric in the skirt, which puts it slap bang in the middle in terms of fabric efficiency. i should have plenty enough to do it, maybe even to increase it if i want to, while still being pretty unlimited about what i do with the rest of the design.

one last thing- trim! one unique feature of this design is the opportunity to play with trim on the skirt itself. i do have some bodice ideas that play around with trim, and it would be really nice to introduce it into the skirt too, if we go that way. it could even be a fun nod to the piping on the original break up robe!!!!

Something else (comment): while doing my research i came across SO MANY design ideas that i could play around with. for this poll i picked the three i thought would probably work the best for this project, but i wanted an opportunity for you to yell at me if you want something different entirely. feel free to suggest anything you like, but ive included a couple images as examples of styles i saw a lot. i especially saw a lot like on the left, with gathering or ruffles off to the side, but the front panel being pretty flat. this might be real fun for some designs like shirtdresses, but im not super confident on how itd look on me. either way, feel free to form a coalition in the replies to tell me how i totally should have offered you this one particular option.

(if you vote for this but dont comment, im discounting it from the overall stats as i have no idea what design you mean! your welcome to send it in on anon if that bothers you, but either way, ill need a description :P )

[maskedteaser]

WOOHOOO HI can i get an apex legends matchup please? i love matchups so much they’re so fun!!

Firstly, i want to describe my vibe. I’m short, a little over 5ft, with dark skin and short locs. Though my build may be petite, im still very muscular. Thunder thighs save lives you know?? I have quite a few piercings (pairs on each ear, a stretched septum, and a snakebite) and i wear clothes similar to whimsigoth and victorian goth styles. Sometimes i’ll switch it up with a baggy band/tapout shirt and jeans. I’m always wearing my crystals as well and a lot of bracelets.

Personality wise, im a lot like an owl. When I first meet people, their impression of me is that i’m quiet and mysterious. They might think i look interesting but they’re also very intimidated. Especially when i speak and my tone is nonchalant and at times blunt and straightforward. There are a few times i just straight up scare people from my looks alone. It kind of bothers me but i’ve learned to have fun in my lonesome while being ostracized.

I may seem like an overall distant person at first glance, but in actuality i’m just a huge daydreamer. And when i actually feel comfortable expressing myself, there’s a lot of whimsy and poeticism that most people don’t see because they automatically assume im boring or too serious. It’s not often i find company that’ll stay to see the more artistic, expressive side of me.

I actually love having discussions about my interests and philosophy and hearing what others are interested in too but i’ve never actually had the pleasure of talking with anyone like that. People aren’t usually interested in having a conversation with me and if they are it’s one dimensional or may have ulterior motives.

Im pretty spiritual and feel emotions for everything, as everything matters to me. Im a deep thinker and sometimes have to be alone to sort my thoughts and write them down. I do tarot readings all the time and look to the moon for guidance. I’m also very into the arts. Painting, sketching, music, filmmaking, fashion. I enjoy these things and even draw and make music myself sometimes. My favorite genres of music are within edm, r&b, and punk. I listen to music almost everyday. At this point i care about art more than i care about humans.

I also have a prominent quirk. I tend to sing, drum my hands, and whistle constantly. I do these things more than i speak not gonna lie….

I’m fine with being matched with anyone btw! Thank you for reading all this!!

WOOO HOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! THAT'S SO MUCH INFO GIVEN THANK YOU ANON FOR REQUESTING :)))

LET'S GET STARTED not proofread - sorry for any typos.

since people seem to like it, and also it helps me get more detailed...let me tell you why i didn't pick anyone else :)

❝ here are a few times i just straight up scare people from my looks alone. It kind of bothers me but i’ve learned to have fun in my lonesome while being ostracized. ❞

Can I be honest with you? I hope I can. I think OCTANE would just think you're boring or some sort of a "out of his league" type of person. He'd be friendly, probably trying to make you laugh but as soon as you hit him with your blunt tone and some short reply like "ok, and?" - he's OUT.

❝ I do tarot readings all the time and look to the moon for guidance. ❞

I think REVENANT would make fun of you for that. You'd probably wouldn't care, but there is no way for it to work out. I also think Revenant would even try talking with you about anything, since you seem quiet and he is just not willing to start any conversation with anyone ever - it would not work out.

❝ I may seem like an overall distant person at first glance, but in actuality i’m just a huge daydreamer. And when i actually feel comfortable expressing myself, there’s a lot of whimsy and poeticism that most people don’t see because they automatically assume im boring or too serious. ❞

ALTER, same thing that was with Revenant, she'd think you're boring, she wouldn't even bother trying to get to know you better, to reveal a true beauty hiding underneath. She is here to cause chaos...

NOW FOR A BIG REVEAL...*DRUMS*...

BLOODHOUND

I'm really really sure that Bloodhound would be a perfect match for you. They're somehow spiritual, just like you, they wouldn't judge you for tarot reading, even probably be intrested in it somehow. Your mysterious demeanour wouldn't be a problem for them since they are pretty mysterious and quiet as well. I also think they'd love to talk with you, they seem as someone that loves deep, poetic conversations. And if you ever felt the need to have some time alone - they'd accept it and leave you for as long as you'd need.

You said you always wear crystals and I just thought - how cute it would be if you gave them a necklace with crystals that you think would match them and they'd wear it everywhere, anytime :)) (They'd probably give you something in return, like a necklace with some animal fang or something.)

Personality wise, im a lot like an owl. - I believe bloodhound loves all types of birds, even though we see them with ravens for most of the time, I actually think that they'd see the "owl" in you and that would make them like you even more.

thank you for reading, I hope I did not disappoint :) signed TEASER 👽👽👽

[rq-smiley-face]

Quite alright, I was busy yesterday myself. And by busy I mean prancing about in ears and a tail because it was Halloween and I could. I probably won't be able to do that until the convention this January so I had to! Also watching all the analog horror content that dropped yesterday. There's... still so much to go through.

Well, anyway! Best I have at the moment to help is reinforcing that I also don't think anything is wrong with his body, no matter what it was made or used for in the past. (Same for yall collectively ofc.) You may relay that message if you wish/are able too. He doesn't need to talk to me if he doesn't want, either. Just. Throwing it out there.

I personally still need to get better at the caring act. I do genuinly want to help others, but irl I can come off as real deadpan and thats... not the most comforting. Thats why I find it easier to type, especially with tone tags, so I can convey what I actually want to. I do experience emotions myself, but it's very hard to convey them outwardly in a phsyical sense at times. With writing, there's so much more to make it more clear. Punctuation, tone tags, emojis, you get it.

And!!!! Augh I'm glad you liked reading it and hearing about all that. Like I said, I've never gone that in depth before so I was nervous. But yea!! Learning and trying to heal together, and mutually being beneficial for each others complexes (I don't think his god complex is undo-able, but thats okay since you can have one and still be happy and functional, so Im not entirely concerned about it staying.) Honestly, its funny in a way. He and I are very different from eachother, and yet here we are. I especially thought he'd permanently hate me, given I'm a mad scientist of sorts, but!!! No!!! And I just fgdksafhcvhdfksagfdhfbcdhfg. Weh. >_<

Anyway, I will now be shifting into somewhat heavier topics. (programming again.) If you're not in a mind to read it: SKIP THE RED TEXT. (No hard feelings if you're not, its less questions this time and more of an update on my discoveries, partially submitted as well for the other anons going through similar.)

So, I've discovered that I can use the annoying dizziness as a bit of a geiger counter for answers in some cases. For example: wondering if we're only one part of the system, or maybe a subsystem dedicated to the front = get dizzy, meaning I shouldn't think about that, meaning there likley is or was meant to be and I'm not supposed to be able to think about it, but since nothing was ever completed I can override that failsafe. Or: Thinking about different programs and how they could be used on others = no dizzy, meaning I was potentially meant to be a handler as well as a general servator (current descriptor Im using.) Those are just some examples, but it's been helpful and maybe others can use this method. (PLEASE BE CAREFUL, YOU MAY TRIGGER DANGEROUS FAILSAFES.)

I've also figured out more things about sleep: We stopped taking naps when the body was one year old, which is... not normal for humans. We regained the ability to do so around age twenty, but not without feeling guilty if I haven't "Done Enough" first. So it would seem those are used as some form of reward system.

End of red text.

I also feel like this is writting letters to a friend kinda!!! Your letter did find us well, and I hope mine finds you the same.

-🦌👁

Good evening watching deer anon. Your letter found us quite well, it is always a joyous day when a friend hears word from another!

Now, I cannot speak on what you and Cas have discussed in regards to your partner and your relationship, but I nevertheless assure you that we found it very endearing.

As for Kevin/The Deep. I will pass on the sentiment, it will mean a great deal to him and us.

As for what is in the red text. Let me say that your gieger counter is likely very accurate. I have been a member of this system for nearly 15 years, and I can personally tell you that I have installed similar fail safes into our system. Any time the beloved members of this system get too close to information I prefer left better alone it triggers an intense dizziness, followed by nausea followed by disassociation. And if that isn't enough, a seizure.

I recommend treading carefully in these areas, as you may never know what sort of symptoms your body is capable of triggering.

I'm sure you would have made an astute handler, and I hope, if that is ever your interest you are able to be one. You'd be surprised what it takes to break the human mind.

And absolutely you can be completely functional with many complexes. The ears and tail sounds nice, I'm glad you got a moment of authenticity in a world meant to choke those who are of a unusual breed.

All the best, your friends at the Liminal Churchyard

[thelocal-idot]

Soft Obsessions

Crazy B x Yandere Reader

PT 1

Hey loves glad to be here again writing more stuff for this lovely and small community. I love writing yandere stuff, but because i wasn’t trying to go over the top its alot more toned down. 

if you enjoy the content, im taking requests in my asks page! -

Cw:  Yandere, Slightly suggestive content

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There was always something strange with you, something not many people would notice. Whenever you were in love, you’d always go to the most extreme measures to ensure their love for you. You had never been given such affections before, the taste was almost addicting. Craving the warmth of being within someone’s arms, their touch would make you feel just a little higher. You needed it, more of it, and thats how you were here now. 

RINNIE

Rinnie was an interesting person, he would make it known when something either displeased him or made him laugh. He was loud, obnoxious, super annoying, but that didn’t really stop you from falling in love with him did it? His rowdy, wild nature drew you in, and since then you had been looking for every opportunity to hang out with him. Whenever you’re in a crowd after one of his performances you couldn’t help but look for him every time, i mean he did stick out like a sore thumb. Little would he know that you had a whole shrine dedicated to the older Amagi brother, pictures of him plastered everywhere. I think if he saw it, he’d be rather flattered actually. Maybe a few more pictures wouldn’t hurt, perhaps next time in a more.. exposing way. The prideful king has always needed to be taken down a notch anyways.

HIMERU

Himeru had never been very affectionate person, but that never really bothered you much. What a alluring and mysterious person, thats why you had fallen in love with him in the first place. You wanted to uncover his secrets, and maybe if you did he’d be easier to charm. What you didn’t expect was the subtle reciprocation that he did in fact fancied your presence. You would love to break him apart, using things that no one else knew about the pretty blue haired man. You relished in being able to savor his smell left on his coats that you so graciously borrowed without his knowledge. Maybe, just maybe he’d be willing to stay with you and love you forever?

NIKI

Niki, his way of loving was by cooking meals for them, you might hide it but you thought him as the perfect house husband. Whenever he was hungry you’d always have snacks for him because you knew he’d appreciate it. You always found him endearing and silly, you’d do anything to make sure he was always having fun. When you first saw him, his long hair was so eye catching and healthy you wondered what he’d been eating. How does he have such pretty hair, you’d love to have some of it. He’d probably never find out about it (hopefully), but you hand a collection of his hair that you kept neatly stored. What you’d do to have a chance at having him entirely for yourself and litter his face in kisses. 

KOHAKU

Kohaku was sweet and giving to you, how could you have not fallen in love with him. Even better is all the venom he kept hidden underneath all of his skin, keeping his tongue sharp. You loved that of him, such a cute little face and yet so much bitterness, his poison was a drug you’d willingly consume. Admiring from afar was so lackluster, you’d do anything to get closer. Though you’d been getting closer to him, much to your delight. It had turned out that you two had similar interests, what a coincidence. Theres days he’d be pouting, and curious you’d ask him what was wrong. You’d gladly listen to him complain, falsely smiling to hide the rage behind your soft demeanor. He’d smile back at you, and you could already feel the urge to take him away from the rest of the world. They didn’t deserve a sweetheart like him anyways.

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Kohaku was the first one i wrote, when my brain was actually working, so if its the best written one my apologies hekekek

[indigoh4ze]

party || rafe cameron

warning- SMUT // vaginal fingering, eating out, vaginal penetration, mentions of intoxication

rafe cameron x fem!reader

a/n- so this is my first time writing for outer banks, im terrible at writing actual interactions so im sorry its so bad at first lmao. also disclaimer: rafe in this fic is nothing like he is canon, so his characterization is off. enjoy :)

also feel free to request for any outer banks characters i write for

turn on notifs here - @slvt4fakerealities-library - to be notified when i post a new fic

join taglist (add yourself to the outer banks section)

the lights were blazing, different colors zapping throughout the room as you made your way over to the couch. your head was slightly fuzzy from the intoxication, but you managed.

since the couch was empty, you took the chance to sprawl your whole body out on it, head on one arm and feet dangling off the other. you watched as everyone danced and made out and filled their bodies with even more toxins. soon, you found yourself just dazing up at the ceiling, lips opening and closing slightly as you lip-synced in a whispering tone to the loud music.

after what felt like hours, but could’ve only been a few minutes, you felt something nudge your thigh. without moving your neck, you let your eyes flash down to find the source of the movement.

hovering over you was rafe cameron. his dirty blonde hair framed his face messily, a single cross earring dangling from his left ear, a red solo cup in his hand as his free hand poked at your thigh.

“what?” you slurred, now moving up on your elbows and blinking back the haziness.

“i wanna sit,” he said, taking a sip from the cup. even in this state it wasn’t hard to notice how good the boy looked, tilting his head back and gulping down the liquid, eyes never leaving your own.

you groaned, pulling your knees to your chest and allowing rafe to throw himself onto the cushion. you were now facing his side, as his hands gripped your legs and pulled them back to their original position, except now they laid over his leg. giving him a curious look, you laid the side of your face on the back cushion and fidgeted with the bracelet around your wrist.

“shouldn’t you be like- getting shit faced or something.” rafe snickered at your words, sending you a glare before looking back down to his cup, which he was also mindlessly playing with.

“sorry, did i interrupt your little..nap?” he teased with a hint of amusement, referring to the previous state you were in, and you scoffed in return, mind clearing a bit more and making room for annoyance.

“whatever.” and then, you were pulling your legs off him and standing up, albeit wobbly as you almost fell to the side, caught by rafe’s firm grip around your arm.

“you good?”

“‘m fine,” you dismissed the boy, confused as to why he was even talking to you in the first place.

the truth was, you never liked him, he was rude and careless and selfish and way too much to put up with. but you couldn’t deny the attraction you felt towards the boy, and the tension that was always evident when the two of you were together.

but you always just pushed those thoughts aside, because even the thought of anything happening made your mind whirl with a plethora of emotions, not good ones by any means.

but then, you also couldn’t deny the recurring fantasies of things that could happen. could but wont, because he’s rafe cameron, and not even you’re desperate enough to be one of his bitches.

“hey?” a light tug of your arm pulled you back to the present, and you turned to see rafe at your side, cup forgotten as one of his hands molded around your waist and the other wrapped around your bicep to steady you.

“i’m really fine-.” you pulled away from him, and right as you did so, you felt someone back up on you, pushing you towards rafe and into his chest as a cold liquid spread from the lower half of your head and down your back.

you gasped in surprise, suddenly awake and alert as you sharply turned to see a boy standing there, cup tilted and empty as all its contents spilt on your back. he mumbled a quick apology, then took off laughing with his friends about something they said that probably wasn’t even funny.

“you sure about that?” rafe inquired, eyebrow raised in amusement as you stepped away from him, this time more cautiously. “c’mon, we’ll clean you up.”

although you wanted to say no and tell him to fuck off because you could handle it yourself, you were too exhausted from the long night to put up much protest other than a dramatic groan. then, you nodded, and rafe led you away from the crowd of people with a tug of your wrist.

—//—

now, you found yourself in a bedroom, rafes bedroom, waiting expectantly as you stood in front of the boy.

“what now?” you ask, palming your eyes and yawning, looking back at rafe with glossy eyes now, which were sending waves of tingles through the boys stomach.

“take a shower,” he implied, as if it was obvious. you scrunched your brows as he pointed to the bathroom on the other side of the room.

“i don’t have any spare clothes.”

“i’ll find you something to wear,” rafe shrugged, “go on,” he urged you to the bathroom, and you followed obediently, not having it in you to put up any sort of fight or ask questions.

“i’ll be right back,” rafe said from the room as you closed the bathroom door, only to hear the door to the bedroom close as well, meaning rafe left.

your mind was filled with the thought that he just ditched you, which was a possibility, but you ignored that thought and slipped your shirt over your head. once all the articles of clothing were thrown onto the cold tile floor, along with your shoes which sat messily in the corner, you lift a foot into the tub, stepping in.

immediately, you played with the oddly fancy knobs and managed to turn them on, warm water rushing through the shower head as your tilted your head back into it. the odd colored drink washed away from your hair, falling onto the floor of the tub and down the drain smoothly. you searched for soap, quickly cleaning up and scrubbing your hair twice for good measure. the smell of the soap reminded you of rafe, not surprising considering it was literally his own soap, you told yourself, annoyed by your current thoughts.

the feeling of the slightly cold water hitting your skin was enough to wake you up fully, but you were too lost in the blissful feeling of the water to pay much attention to your surroundings.

that was until you heard the door to the bathroom open, and you peaked your head through the curtain to find rafe, setting a towel on the counter, along with a shirt and a pair of shorts.

“who’s are those?” you questioned, making rafe jump as he realized you were watching him.

“sarah, i just took some from her,” he shrugged, and now you were even more confused.

first, he started talking to you randomly. then he’s helping you stand. then he’s taking you to his room..so you can shower. then he’s getting clothes for you to wear? how much did you have to drink? you started to ask yourself, questioning if this was all you just being wasted.

but it wasn’t, you felt pretty much fine. so there had to be something you were missing.

“just hurry up and change, i’ll be in the other room.” without another glance towards you, rafe left the bathroom, leaving you standing there, wet hair dripping forward from the way you had tilted your head to peek through. you went back to getting the soap out of your hair, rushing a bit more now.

meanwhile, rafe was in his room, just outside the bathroom, sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. what the fuck am i doing? was his only thought.

he was honestly just confused as you were. it started when he saw you laying on the couch, mouth agape as your eyes sketched shapes on the ceiling. you just being there was tempting enough, but after that he just had to make his way over to you.

the two of you hadn’t had many conversations in the past, at least no genuine ones. most were just bickering, to be honest. but, just as you thought, the tension was undeniable. the feelings weren’t one sided, that was for sure.

when he caught you from falling over, you had leaned into his warmth and something almost turned in his stomach, which was quite nauseating on his side. it was annoying how fucking worked up he got around you. his mind would spin with options of what to do with you. did he want to just kiss you, fuck you or annoy you to death? he had no idea, but it was overwhelming, to say the least.

so when he invited you to his room to clean up, he wasn’t really thinking about it, because everything was happening at once. he even searched his sisters room for goddamn clothes for you.

interrupting his inner monologue, a door opened and out came your figure, except you weren’t wearing the clothes he had given you. no, you were just in your towel, actually. your skin looked slightly damp still, but your hair had been fluffed out and dried a bit from the towel.

“what are you- where are the clothes i gave you?” rafe asked, standing hesitatingly.

“dunno, wasn’t my style i guess,” you shrugged, looking around his room casually, taking in the very rafe feel it gave.

rafe just scoffed, messing his hair up and stepping closer. “well, you can’t really go out in a towel now, can you?”

this reminded you that there was still a party going on, although it was muffled and a bit quieter as people began to call it a night.

“then i won’t go out.” you stepped closer, looking up at rafe with an expression of uncertainty, trying to identify the look behind his eyes, figure out what the fuck he was up to. but you saw nothing. if anything, there were just a bit of nervousness hidden there.

“and what exactly do you plan on doing, then? since your obviously so wise.” now his guarded demeanor was back up, though he had taken a step closer so your heavy breaths were hitting each other perfectly, hands close to grazing one another’s.

“i don’t know.” then, another reminder flashed in your mind, and you looked back at rafe, “wait, why are you even here? isn’t this like- your party?”

“well, technically topper wanted a party, i wanted to go to bed and sleep for a year.” you chucked at this, figuring he had already gotten fucked up today and didn’t feel like another party. then, taking a risk, you leaned in just a bit, and rafe didn’t pull back. actually, he pushed forward, bringing his large hands to wheel around your waist, setting fire through your veins.

it was as if both of you snapped at the same time, first eyeing each others lips, then pushing forward and taking said lips between your own. the kiss was hungry and long waited, immense relief flushing through you, which took you both by surprise.

not even a few minutes of this passed by before rafe was tugging at the towel, still clinging around your naked body, droplets of water probably wetting his floor.

before letting the fabric reveal your body, rafe looked at you, pulling away for a moment and looking over your features, silently asking permission. a quick nod was all it took for the material to be ripped off and throw to the side, rafe spinning you both around until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you fell back onto the mattress.

rafe looked over you with a smirk, eyes skimming over each and every detail of your body as if savoring it. a lick of his lips was all it took for your thighs to rub together, anticipation becoming too much as you waited for him.

this obviously pissed him off, because now his hands were tearing your legs apart, exposing your bare cunt inch by inch. “don’t even try to cover this up, got it?”

his voice was demanding, and luring, enough to make you nod, eyes softening in obedience, resulting in a snicker from rafe.

he leaned back in, delving down to leave kisses along your collar bone and suck on the flesh until bruises built against your skin, making you whimper and grab his dirty blond tressed with your fingers.

the sound of your whimpers made rafe go crazy, but he tamed the need inside him long enough to work his way down your stomach, placing teasing kisses down your inner thighs, but not once touching the spot you needed the most attention in.

“please, rafe,” you pleaded, not sure where it came from but gong with it once you saw the way he looked up at you, lust blown eyes and parted lips, waiting to be against your cunt.

“please what, hm? tell me what you want me to do, baby,” rafe cooed, fingers clenching around the inside of your thighs so he could push them apart and kiss your inner thighs, resulting in your back arching and hips begging upwards.

“n-need your mouth.” your face blushed with embarrassment of having to speak the words, but rafe just tsked, one hand moving upwards as he used his thumb to draw circles around your cunt, only passing your folds, earning a cry from you.

“i need more than that, doll.”

“fuck! please, j-just need your mouth on me, rafe, need to feel your mouth on my pussy, please!”

it seems that was acceptable for rafe, his thumb pausing just above your clit, then dragging down, finally grazing over the sensitive bud and stimulating it perfectly. your hips jerked at the sensation, but you grew accustomed to the feeling once he began working in small circles.

soon, his mouth was on your cunt, tracing paths over your folds and rubbing at the nub with a flat tongue, constantly sending shivers through you as you moaned with pleasure. his hands stayed at your side, ring clad finger’s cold against your flesh as his tongue dug inside you and began fucking your hole with no remorse.

the shapes and letters his warm tongue carved into you were almost too much, and when you reached down to rake your fingers through his hair, you fought the urge to push his head down and allow him to bury himself completely between your thighs.

“f-fuck! rafe, oh god, feels so good,” you sobbed, voice becoming louder as he hummed into you, a smirk on his lips, no doubt, from seeing you fall apart for him.

rafe pulled away within a second, licking his lip and keeping his eyes on your cunt, calculating his next move. you watched as he did so, suddenly feeling exposed as he raked his eyes over the slick coating your folds and your clit throbbing painfully through them. you squirmed at the emptiness, about to squeeze your thighs together, but you were too late as rafe brought a hand up, middle and forefinger pushing through your folds and embedding themselves within your walls.

a loud gasp escaped your lips as he did so, and you bit down painfully on the cushion of them as his fingers pumped in and out of you with nonstop speed. rafe looked up at you, his own lips parted beautifully as he watched moans flow easily out of your mouth.

“you like that, baby?” came his husky voice, only intensifying your already great pleasure that ran through your body. you nodded at his inquiry, not able to form coherent thoughts under his gaze. and that was when his fingers made a hook and pressed against your most sensitive part, making you squirm.

his smirk became bigger, and his fingers fucked you harder, a desperate attempt to ruin you right there. then he was leaning down, still pumping his fingers, and began to lick your clit with fervor, flicking the bud and sucking without resistance until your thighs were clenching around his head and you were a complete moaning mess.

“oh fuck- i’m g-gonna come rafe, pleaseplease,” you begged pathetically, having no time to be embarrassed as he hummed, nodding his head while still sucking on your clit, and permitted you to let go.

the orgasm took over in a huge wave, which came surprisingly fast, and the only thing on your mind was the bubbling in your stomach that was finally freed. moans and gasps fell from your lips as you wet his tongue and fingers, and rafe didn’t let a drop go to waste as he lapped up your slick, helping to prolong your orgasm.

hands reaching for his hair in dazed motions, eyes closed and lips parted, you mumbled, “t-too much, rafe,” which was the boys que to give you a final kiss on your clit, then remove his head and fingers from your cunt.

now, rafe stared up at you, swiping a ring clad thumb over his bottom lip, which was glistening with your arousal. his thumb then moved to enter your mouth, and you dutifully took in the digit, sucking with starry eyes, and whimpering when he removed it from your grasp.

rafe rose to his full height, still in his shirt and pants, which were no doubt keeping his hard dick from standing tall. suddenly, you felt that flush arise to your cheeks from your being nude, and you bit your lip and reached a hand out to grapple at his shirt. he took this as a sign to pull the material over his head, then going in for his buckle as well. the sound of the metal clinking as he loosened it from its straps was enough to send you into a spiral of anticipation, eyeing his clothed prick impatiently.

rafe had that smirk plastered to his face still, throwing his belt aside and then his pants, making sure not to go too fast as he tormented you.

you let out a whine as he hooked his fingers around his boxers, not pulling them down fully but revealing his v line. “rafe,” you pouted, and he decided to be nice and let them fall down, now unclothed as he kicked off his shoes and settled ontop of you, marking your chest and neck immediately.

sighing with content, you held him close and let his lips suck on your flesh, until the arousal was too much and he began to grind against you, slowly. your cunt was already becoming slick again as he rubbed against your thigh.

rafe lift himself up to his knees, pumping his cock, the point of his tongue poking out from the side of his mouth in concentration. the image of your breasts on display for him, and your lips parted and chest thumping was enough to make the boy cum on the spot.

he raised a brow at you, making sure you were still okay, and once getting a quick nod, he pressed the head of his cock against your folds. in the next second, he was thrusting into you, earning a loud gasp from you, which he covered with a hand on your mouth.

“shh, ‘m gonna fuck you good, okay? just lay there and look pretty,” he teased, but you nodded, wanting nothing more than to do as he said.

the thrusts started out mild, but soon quickened tempo, hips stuttering against yours as he wrapped a hand around your leg and pulled it over his shoulder. this allowed a better angle, and you moaned with him as he repeatedly pounded into your already sensitive cunt.

you slid a hand down your bouncing breasts and stomach, then to your throbbing clit, soothing it with your gentle fingers before rafe slapped them away, as if saying “mine.”

his own hand went around your propped up leg to thumb at your clit, whilst the other made a path over your hips and breasts, fondling with the mound of flesh and pinching your nipple.

the overstimulation was rushing through you violently, his thrusts becoming sloppy, orgasm at the brink. you watched his head fly back, eyes rolling and mouth a gape, hypnotized by how pretty he looked even when he was fucking you.

“rafe,” you repeatedly mumbled, forming no other words in your clouded mind.

“hm? does it feel good? d’you like the way i fuck you, pretty girl?”

“y-yeah, so good,” you hummed, your own head rolling back onto the pillow, hips thrusting up to meet his and satisfy the hunger that once again boiled in your core.

“i’m gonna cum on your tits, are you gonna be good for me?” he said just as your orgasm was about to wash you away, and you nodded fast, once again wanting to be the best you could for him.

then, you came, waves of pleasure splashing through you before he pulled out, still thumbing your sensitive bundle of nerves, using his free hand to fist his cock which hovered over your breasts.

you held your tits in two shaky hands, squeezing them together and massaging them while rafe came, painting your breasts and stomach until he had milked out every last drop he could. he mumbled yes’s and fuck’s, along with your name until his high died down.

breathing harshly, you set ur sight to the ceiling, deep intakes of air causing the ends of rafe’s lips to turn upwards slightly. he leaned down to place one last kiss on your flushed cheek before letting himself fall onto the mattress beside you.

“let’s clean you up,” rafe said, turning to look at you, “the party’s not over yet.”

uhhhh yeah idk how i feel ab this i hope it wasn't terrible ig. reblogs appreciated :)

@o-rion-sta-r @saggyb1lls @rylynn-m @dobbysockcollection @arcaneslut @arianagreyy @el-imaskingforyourlefthand

[slasherwife]

S/o pampering the slashers + Vincent , they come home and the s/o prepared a bath and cook them dinner.

Y/n Spoiling Their Slasher

Ooh funn! Sometimes these poor bois need extra love 🥺💞

Thomas:

- He would be a flustered baby from the beginning🥺

- He would feel bad that you’re doing this stuff for him and would feel a bit awkward since he’s so used to being the provider, that he wouldn’t really know how to act 🌼

- He clings to you for guidance, because being so relaxed and spoiled like this feels like a crime to him. And that breaks my heart.

- You end up being the mother hen, coaxing him and cooing at him as he looks up at you as if you're an angel. He'll lower himself into the bath and hold onto your hand, falling into a pit of pure love for you. You are literally his angel and you are GLOWING in his eyes💕

- when you give him a special dinner, he eats it happily and offers to share almost everything with you. It's like he's mostly concerned with what's on your plate instead of his, glancing over and making sure you're enjoying yourself. He can't help it though, it's completely second nature to him 💫💖

He is still hesitant to let himself be comfortable because he has literally never had anything like this ever in his life. He still looks to you for guidance and you tell him that you won't make him do anything he's not comfortable with.

- You both end the night with him clinging to you, buried his face in your stomach with his arms wrapped around your hips. He repeats in his mind that he doesn't deserve an angel like you until he falls asleep, dreaming about you. This boy is lovesick. 💕

Jason

- Jason would just full on melt. He already knew how kind and loving you could be, and honestly isn't too surprised that you would do this. He nevertheless of course, puts his masked-face on your temple in the form of a kiss, and strokes your ear as a thank you💗

- Big boy doesn't waste a minute, he's stripped and ready to dive in. He definitely did NOT expect you to come over there and help him wash. Unsurprisingly he got bashful and looked away as you lovingly scratched his shoulders and unknotted his huge biceps and neck. He ends up going slack in the tub from how good it feels. 😊

- His eyes don't leave you most of the time. He looks away bashfully when you glance at him or smile at him, and his heart is just a fluttery mess at you. When you courteously look away when he steps out of the bath, you direct him to a big meal you made <3

- He has no idea where to start he is a trainwreck at just eating a mf meal. You smile encouragingly at him as he delicately uses his fork (which looks like a toothpick in his hands) and eats like he's at the queen's reception ceremony. He is SO polite. Uses a napkin and everything.

- I canon that he was ALWAYS hungry pre-zombie phase, and could literally eat 5 horses in one sitting (a weird visual but--) he signs to you asking what you were going to eat, and will literally fight with you about you taking his plate if you haven't eaten yet. 💖😤

- hes a babe

Michael

- this bitch. you already know bae.

- He would refuse the bath because he finds it weird that he would bathe in a bath you made him (im confused too dw) He will stand there, his 7 ft tall ass, shaking his head at you no.

- you somehow end up getting in the bath with him because that was the only chance he would take the bath-- with you literally stuck to him as he drags you around like a pool noodle 🥲

- he might initiate funky time but probably not. he just wants to be clean tbh. He spends the entire bath time smelling your hair as he doesn't allow you to move for a good 10 minutes. He strokes your neck though which is nice 💖

- after you guys both leave the bath, he is still carrying you like a purse, but lets you at least put on a towel so you're not sitting naked at the dinner table.

- He's really touchy tonight, and it's mostly because he's filled to the rim with love for you. 💗He expresses it with roughhousing though and handling you like a ragdoll. He does NOT mean to hurt you though and will be gentle if you tell him to cut it out.

- He eats absolutely everything on his plate gratefully, again, doesn't express it in the most civil way, but he appreciates it (surprisingly). He actually might eat from your plate, you can't tell me this 7 ft giant doesn't run on five rotisserie chickens a day.

Bo Sinclair

- I literally didn't even want to write for this dude. He is an asshole. But he's a hot asshole with daddy vibes so here we are 😤💗

- I would never expect Bo to worship you in return for you doing this for him. There are some things he will boast and tease you about being a swoon for him, being obsessed over him and whatnot~~~ But stuff like this is a little too much for that. It almost touches him. Almost💘

- He initially just doesn't know what to say. He loves you, that’s obvious. So he doesn't want to hurt your feelings by saying the wrong thing (which he does ALL THE TIME) so he's going to be uncharacteristically non hyper-verbal

- When you tell him you have a bath running for him upstairs, he'll think you're joking at first. When it becomes obvious that you're not, you lead him to it, and he looks at you when you're not looking and there's a slight of affection in them🌼

- He offers to share the bath with you, with a glint in his eye and that velvety smooth tone of his. This makes you blush furiously and become shy, which eggs him on. It’s completely up to you though, heh, because this will in fact lead to the sex

- afterwards he may drag you over to the bed to sleep~~~ until you tell him you have dinner waiting for him, and he is a fucking s l u t for food after funky time ✨

- now here he definitely teases you. “you’re practically worshipping me, doll. how am I supposed to treat you now?” What we’re you expecting? but internally he’s bursting at the seams and he’s very touched. 💖Probably to the point where he’s uncomfortable and will either be very quiet (he has no idea what to say) or he’ll tease the shit out of you as a coping mechanism.

- he eats like a normal person unlike everyone else here (and maybe Vincent) going on about his day where you listen patiently with a smile on your face ☺️

- Then when in bed, with his back facing you, he’ll very quietly thank you for doing this for him, because Lord knows he needed it. He’s very thankful 💖

Vincent Sinclair

- all signs of responsiveness is cut. I mean, he’s the tiniest bit of smug if I’m raw honest. He was the golden child out of the two when he was younger and even if Bo is top dog in Ambrose, the feeling of deserving more than he does is still there. Which he DOES 😭💖

- He’s in absolutely no way like Bo. Bo is a smug ass who doesn’t listen to anyone (who we stan btw), but he’s still touched to the core.💖 You didn’t need to do this, you wanted to

- he knew he was worthy of being loved. He knew Bo wasn’t going to hold him down forever. he’s felt he needed this for the longest time. He wants to beat Bo; ~~~

- and when the prettiest, sweetest angel is at his feet pampering him, he just knows how jealous Bo is. 💘😭 Anyway SORRY I’m rambling~~ I feel like Vinny would be too scared to go into the bath himself and would have you sit on a stool beside him.

- he’ll be signing to you the entire time he’s in the bath~~ about anything and everything. He’s just so emotionally connected to you, he can’t help but spill his thoughts 🥺

- you both would eat your dinner in his room, probably on his bed as you share ideas about sculpting and life Bring a laptop so y’all can watch Netflix together ✨

- he’d want to make love to you after but that depends on how shy he’s feeling. It would probably be gentle and devoid of much lust, only love🥺💓

[relaxxattack]

hi im asking u this bc u seem to be bee duo enthusiast so

ive been calling c! beeduos relationship platonic because i thought that was what their cc’s said, and i thought they had said that they were uncomfortable with ppl shipping the characters. But ive seen a lot of posts that say their relationship is canonically romantic? and i absolutely do not want to come across as homophobic by watering down a mlm relationship to just friends because that happens so much in media so.

what is the canon state of their relationship / ur opinions on the platonic thibg

dont worry abt answering if u dont want to!! i see a lot of differing opinions and i trust yours :)

aw it’s totally fine, im flattered you asked me about this!

let me put it simply: it’s a whole mess, lol.

first im going to talk about what’s happened fandom-wide that caused differing opinions, and then i’ll explain my own opinion/interpretation. :]

(this got really fucking long im so sorry)

ranboo and tubbo initially proclaimed the relationship was romantic, specifically in argument with the wiki editors who had set it as platonic by default. (you can see this in the vod where they decide they’re canonically married— it’s very funny. chat tells them the marriage is already on the wiki, they check, tubbo is jokingly offended that it says platonic and asks if he needs to up the romance).

tubbo also makes jokes about adultry, which sort of implies the relationship is not necessarily a platonic one.

(theres definetly more in that stream alone but it’s been a long time since i watched it so i don’t remember a lot of it.)

the wiki, because of this, suffers from going back and forth on platonic and romantic, seemingly unsure where the joke ends and the canon begins, or if its canonically a joke! a mess, as you can already tell.

this gets more complicated as the marriage bit goes on: outsiders, such as phil and scott, both at one point say “platonic marriage”, which then ranboo and tubbo agree with. however, when chat asks them if they’re platonic, they say the opposite. so there is a lot of confusion there.

there’s also the difficulty of being able to tell streamers and characters apart. ranboo and tubbo both don’t like being shipped irl, and that’s their boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed. (they’re also minors, but tbh when they’re 18 in a year i will still be following their boundaries regardless of their legal age).

due to people not wanting to be accused of minor shipping, they started adding the platonic tone indicator to most of their drawings— basically a way of saying “no homo”. meanwhile, tubbo frequently on stream flirts with ranboo and makes quite a bit of nsfw comments towards him that are frankly hilarious.

this goes on for a while with nobody really sure what’s canon, but a lot of people assuming it’s probably platonic, until: the drama of the mods night. a few mods dmed all the wiki editors telling them ranboo wanted his canon character relationship officially set to platonic.

unfortunately for those mods; the very same day, a few hours later, ranboo on stream makes fun of puffy delivering him and tubbo “friendship flowers”. because, and i quote, “bruh. we’re literally married. this must be how the ancient greeks felt.”

in case you don’t know, the internet often jokes about how historians will call ancient greeks ‘very good friends’ when they are quite obviously gay. so in this context, ranboo is joking that people will call him and c!tubbo, who are married, “close friends”, when he doesn’t think they are.

basically, ranboo canonized romantic bee duo, the very same day the mods told everyone he’d wanted a platonic one.

chaos and drama immediately erupted everywhere. on tumblr, we were talking about how weird it was of his mods to do something like that without asking him first. we ALSO talked about how weird it was of them to assume that ranboo can’t make his own decisions, or assume teenagers cannot be in relationships without it being sexual. twitter did the same thing but in the opposite direction: called ranboo mods homophobic, or said they were mad ranboo felt pressured into making a romantic relationship canon ‘just so people could have mlm rep.’

i dont want to go into detail about the drama that happened that night because apparently official people follow me and i dont want to stir it up or have them come “clarify” things. im just saying what we talked about.

ranboo in typical ranboo fashion apologized quickly and seriously. he was deeply sorry for possibly offending anyone with how he’d portrayed his rp relationship with tubbo, and he also assured everyone the mod thing was just a miscommunication.

he said he would talk to tubbo and they’d decide once and for all whether it was platonic or romantic, and then announce so everyone would know.

it’s now been a few months and we've had no word from them on that development. we still have no clue.

-

now, here’s my opinion:

i want to take ranboos word for it that it was a miscommunication with his mods, but... we had it on good authority from people on the wiki team and people in the discord with the mods that (while it was happening) they were really going after the wiki admins, and also made some weird comments about it. that combined with the way ranboo seemingly had no clue (considering he canonized their romance that very same day).... it’s very. sus of the mods.

then there’s the canon we’ve got since then. although occasionally adults in the room have called it a “platonic marriage” and tubbo once (back when it first started) called it a “plankton tectonic” marriage, in roleplay it’s been... kind of not that. tubbo and ranboo make nsfw jokes about each other in character, and their characters also share a master bedroom and bed in the mansion. there's also the way c!tommy really thinks it’s a romance between them as well, and they agree with and play off that— for instance confirming that they “fell in love” when he asked, or ranboo confirming that they “make out on occasion”.

people will still put platonic on their art and posts, imo, because they’re worried about breaking ranboo and tubbo’s irl boundaries by looking like they ship them. or even just being accused of shipping real life minors. and that’s a valid fear to have.

the thing is though: c!bee duo are not cc!bee duo. they’re roleplay characters. cc!bee duo are not okay with being shipped, but they made their characters get canonically married, and call each other “husbands”. so it’s okay to write the word “husband” in your comic without adding “platonic” to it, i promise.

telling the ccs that their characters have to be platonic is... weird. it comes off as not only babying them, but also as saying teens can’t date without it being gross. which isn’t true.

(this is why seeing people overuse “platonic husband” so much bothers me. like, they ARE husbands. you can just say it. what are you trying to hide...?)

-

do i think they’re canonically romantic? ehh, its likely. it’s still okay to interpret them as platonic, because again, it’s hard to tell where jokes end and roleplay begins. like, maybe it’s jokes in the rp too, and c!bee duo are just friends. friends can and should be allowed to make jokes like that with each other! aro & ace marriages exist!

or, maybe it’s actually part of the rp, and they’re very much romantic. we don’t know!

some people say they could be a qpr (queerplatonic romance), which i could see. (a qpr is a relationship that fluctuates between, or can’t quite be sorted into, “romantic” and “platonic”. people in a qpr can do romantic things while having platonic feelings for each other). in my opinion this is a very valid interpretation as well!

-

CONCLUSION (sorry this got so long omfg):

are c!bee duo romantic?

its likely, but you can still interpret them however you like!

should i put /p on bee duo content?

ehhh? i find it annoying when it’s overused (as do others), but if you’re worried you can. its up to preference. putting it too much is weird though

should i put /p on things cc! bee duo do?

no. you’re not the one saying it so you can’t decide the tone tags for that. imagine you said something to your friend and a random stranger came up and was like “haha but that was /p right...?”

can i ship c!bee duo?

mmm. i’m not sure on this one. they are canonically married and very flirtatious, but the ccs don’t like being shipped and they’re close enough to being the ccs that actively shipping might be against boundaries.

can i treat c!bee duo as romantic?

yes. literally just don’t be weird about it. it’s not that hard! you can understand that two characters are husbands without making it weird

here’s the most important thing: boundaries. cc bee duo still haven’t told us what their preferences and canon is about this whole thing.

right now, i am assuming based on what they already show us they’re comfortable with, but! the second they give us any more info! all these opinions will change!

i am only going off what they do. i would never want to cross boundaries at all. i just wish they would make theirs a little more clear.

..... i hope that helped anon, i went way off the rails... i need to go to sleep.

[killerlookz]

This is me asking you to explain the lore of Norwegian metal to us because after your Eddie AU and ur last post im intrigued.

ANON BECAREFUL WHAT YOU WISH FOR BECAUSE I LOOOOOOVE EXPLAINING THINGS...... but this is just an abridged version of events... but i figure context will also help with the au! this is essentially just how black metal "took off" and became what it is today .... also my heart is so full over the fact someone asked LMAO

warning: under the cut will contain mentions of self-harm, suicide and, murder.

underlined sections just contain links to pictures i thought would help visualize the story better! they're all tumblr links so they shouldn't take you out of the app/site

okay so the story goes way back to the early 80s in sweden actually, (i promise this context is needed- sorry this story may seem a little far off at the moment) essentially it "all starts" when Per Yngve Ohlin (also known as 'Pelle') at the age of 10 is beat up so severely by bullies his spleen is ruptured which causes internal bleeding and he's taken to the hospital. while in hospital, he's pronounced clinically dead for a period of time before doctors are ultimately able to save his life.

But after this incident, Pelle was never the same. He soon after developed a deeply morbid fascination with death. He'd later describe later on in his life instances where he essentially believed he was a corpse. leading many to believe he actually had developed cotards syndrome- which is a very rare disorder where the sufferer believes that they are already dead and are essentially a walking corpse.

well, due to the bullying Pelle had to change schools, and he later met a group of people he shared common music interests in and they formed a death metal band called Morbid. the band never really went anywhere as it was essentially a "high school band" as Pelle would later describe it, but it did kickstart Pelle's music career and the musical identity he would soon develop. it was in this band where he began to do "corpse paint" which is probably the one thing MOST synonymous with the aesthetic of black metal. and while there are many potential influences on corpse paint, Pelle is credited with creating corpse paint as it is known in the scene today. (you can see Pelle's paint and his old band morbid here, he's the one with crimped hair and thick black makeup around his eyes!)

Well- Morbid never went anywhere, and Pelle began to take interest in even darker music having become unsatified by death metal having become overtaken by "posers" and through this interest found out the black metal band Mayhem in norway was in need of a new vocalist after the vocalist that did their first EP left- so he sent in a demo tape, and whaddya know! he got the job. so in 1988 at just 19 years old Pelle Ohlin packed his bags and moved to norway to begin his career as the new vocalist for Mayhem. by the point that Pelle had joined the band Mayhem was not the massive infamous name it is in metal today, they were simply a local band made up of a bunch of teenagers and they had one EP out called Deathcrush. and perhaps one of the most infamous names in all of metal is the "leader" of the band at this time, and that is guitarist Øystein Aarseth, better known as 'Euronymous' (pictured in the red sweater in the middle)

seemingly, Pelle was a good match for Mayhem. Pelle's facination with the macabre and death paired perfect with Mayhem's proposed dark image and they began to work on songs together and Pelle is perhaps responsible for writing some of Mayhem's most famous songs. and during this era, Euronymous would create a guitar tone that would forever influence the sound of black metal to this very day.

though while on the outside this partnership seemed like a good thing- behind the scenes things weren't great. things were moving slowly with the band, they weren't recording, and they had a lot of problems with booking shows. essentially, not much was going on with Mayhem.

though- they were able to score some shows during this time. and this is where the image of Mayhem as we know them today really begins. the band would dress up in corpse paint (most notably Pelle and Euronymous) and perform truly intense stage shows. Pelle was known to cut himself on stage and let his blood drip onto the crowd, and they would also throw pigs heads they had bought into the crowd in order to "weed out the posers" (pictures from one show can be seen here they're not graphic but you can see a small smidge of blood on Pelle's hand in the 8th picture, and a fan holding one of the pigheads in the 3rd)

and while all of this madness seemed like an image just to be "edgy" or "hardcore" ... mayhem took themselves VERY seriously. they lived this lifestyle. and especially to one Pelle Ohlin, this was not just an image. you see.. the way Pelle lived his life on stage was very true to how he felt as a person. as mentioned prior, Pelle's near-death experience as a child lead him to have morbid fascinations and even, perhaps believe he was truly dead. and this would eventually lead him to earn the stage name 'Dead' - he would dress up in corpse paint, bury his clothes before shows so they would rot, and even asked to be buried in a coffin himself in order to "get death fungus under his eyes" (his brother's words, not mine)- he would smell a dead crow before going on stage to perform "with the scent of death in his nose", he starved himself to make him look more dead and pale, and he had severe self-harming tendencies. by all accounts, pelle was incredibly depressed, suicidal, and FASCINATED with death.

and all of this, combined with the incredibly poor treatment he recieved at the hands of Euronymous who had taken advantage of his suicidal ideations and constantly bullied him into going through with it. and, on april 8th, 1991, Pelle would attempt suicide by self-exsanguination. though given the temperatures of norway, his blood froze, and he was not able to bleed himself out. due to this, Pelle would eventually grab Euronymous's shotgun and shoot himself once in the forehead, ultimately, ending his life at merely 22 years old.

Euronymous would soon come home to the house they shared together and stumble upon Pelle's dead body. but instead of calling the police right away, Euro would leave the house, drive 20 minutes out to a store and buy a disposable camera where he would then come back home, and pose Pelle's body in various positions and taking pictures of his "friend's" corpse. and THIS is essentially THE catalyst for the rest of the tragic story of norwegian black metal.

the pictures would eventually be developed, and euronymous would also collect fragments of Pelle's skull and make necklaces for his inner circle of friends using the bones. understandably, and as edgy as norwegian black metallers were at the time... a lot of people were disgusted by euro's reaction to pelle's suicide. and bassist 'necrobutcher' was so appalled by euro's behavior he'd left the band. euronymous then promised to destroy the pictures- but he did not, he kept them hidden in his record store, and mailed some to a pen pal of his. this pen pal would then go on to use one of the pictures for an album cover of a bootleg live album called Dawn of The Black Hearts (released in 1995 it is a recording of a 1990 performance Mayhem did in Sarpsborg, Norway) the band HAS condemned the usage of pelle's post-mortem photos on this album cover. while unfortunately easily found on the internet, i do not encourage anyone to look at the album cover, while it is somewhat difficult to make out it is definitely very gore-y given the violent nature of pelle's death- and both Mayhem and Pelle's family do not want that picture spread on the internet any further- which is why i will not be linking it, and advise you not to seek it out yourself.

with no bassist and no vocalist, euronymous decided to take on other ventures such as his record shop Helvete (norwegian for hell). (more pictures here)it was here that the story of how black metal got its satanic and evil image began. in the basement of helvete. euronymous began what he called "the black circle" and it was essentially just a bunch of late teenage- early 20 edgelord musicians trying to "out edgy" each other.

during this time, euronymous was also in contact with varg vikernes, soul member of burzum. and, ill be honest, i cant stay objective right now. FUCK pretty much everyone in this story BUT MOST OF ALL... i cannot stress this enough FUCK VARG VIKERNES. okay... i wont apologize i just had to get that out. most of the people in this story are disgusting, but varg is truly god awful bigoted facist scum. fuck that man. and fuck his stupid shitty band.

BUT... euronymous enjoyed varg's work so much he decided to sign burzum to his record label 'deathlike silence' and also make varg the bassist for mayhem. euro would also get a new vocalist for mayhem, and they'd begin recording their first LP, Dom Mysteriis Dom Sathanas (i spelt that right first try, go me!)

so... while this is going on as i mentioned ... the whole "black circle" is essentially trying to out-edgy each other, and varg essentially decides to take the cake for this one and burns down a church. it's presumed to be multiple, actually, and varg wants everyone to know that these church burnings are a result of black metal, and black metal's protests against christianity. simultaneously, faust, another black circle member- from the black metal band Emperor kills a man. and varg believes everyone should know that this is also a result of black metal. and on the outside, euronymous is encouraging all of this... he wants black metal to have this notorious name and he wants it to be a dangerous art, he doesnt want new comers , he doesnt want fame, or glory, he wants to keep black metal "sacred".

but varg decides to go to the press and confess under the guise of anonimity that these crimes are a result of black metal-ers in the area. AND THUS... this interview is where we now get the association of black metal and all things evil and satanic on a widespread scale. but since varg is the biggest fucking idiot on the planet AND DECIDED TO DO AN INTERVIEW WITH THE PRESS ABOUT CRIMES HE COMMITTED he was arrested, but - essentially the norwegian authorities didnt have enough on him to actually tie him to the church burnings... so he was not convicted and subsequently released.

but with this negative press on black metal, the norwegian scene now has more eyes on them and this SCARES THE HELL out of euronymous. who closes helvete in 1993 because he doesnt want to be implicated in any of this. so, now euronymous is pissed at varg because he "ruined" everything for everyone by going round to the press. and varg is pissed at euro... because varg hasn't seen any of the money from the burzum albums that were released on euro's lable.

so, tension begins to arise between the two friends... and apparently... allegedly, euronymous makes a threat that he wants to kill varg and make a snuff film out of it.

this info gets back to varg. who... upon reciving a contract from euronymous, transferring the rights of burzum's music from deathlike silence to varg- he decides to travel the six hours from where he lives in bergen norway, to euronymous's flat in oslo norway to "sign the contract"

but, in reality, varg had no interest in signing said contract, and instead, when he went over euronymous's house that night in august 1993, he would stab euronynous killing him.

varg was quickly linked to the crime, and unsuccessfully pleaded self defense (in reaction to the snuff film threat) - but, literally no one drives six hours from their home to someone elses home and stabs them as many times as he did in self defense. varg was since convicted and served 21 years in prison (norway's max sentence)

this coverage, due to the extreme nature of euronymous's murder is what made black metal go GLOBAL no longer a scene with small little subsections in small areas of the globe, it became an internationally recognized and huge metal genre just as death metal did before- something ironically- the black circle had been fighting against the whole time.

necrobutcher eventually rejoined mayhem and they're a pretty normal band now... they tour the world and do like normal interviews. they have a decent amount of monthly spotify listeners and have released music as recently as 2019. varg is out of prison and lives in the woods of france with his wife and 8 children and creates table top role playing games. he also used to upload youtube videos where he would spew just the most outright stupid fucking disgusting hateful alt-right garbage (i reiterate, FUCK BURZUM AND VARG VIKERNES. SERIOUSLY) and he's also been arrested multiple times since being released for euro's murder.

and while euronymous is credited for creating "true norwegian black metal" his death was actually a huge relief in the scene and wasn't exactly mourned. i know movies like Lords of Chaos paint euronymous out to be a super innocent dude but... he was also an incredibly disgusting person. just about nobody in this story is "innocent" and they should not be romanticized!!

but... that is pretty much where the story ends

and to anyone who read all the way through.... hiii thanks for listening to my spiel!

[yesimwriting]

Crossing lines

General Kirigan/the darkling x reader

Summary: This was requested by my friend @vvsdiamond28 who also writes and has a really good kirigan x reader story up right now! The request was basically for a fic in which the reader is out wandering at night and runs into kirigan while he’s in the banya and then they get to talking and some other stuff before he admits to only trusting the reader and giving her his real name. This gets kinda steamy bc of the request and bc the story called for it lol but it’s not full smut bc i decided that it would be better to do that as a part 2 so that i could add some jealousy tension haha

a/n i think im back?? Ive been working on requests a lot and ive really enjoyed writing regularly again. A small side note, after rewatching revenge of the sith im kinda in the mood to try writing an anakin fic 😭 pls he was my OG fictional crush,, so either send help or a request for him or something, Anyways,, back to this fic--ahh i had fun writing it but i still feel awkward writing steamier stuff so be nice!! 

--��

Those that wander in the night, lost in uneasy thought--there’s probably a lot that can be said about them. But I can’t think of anything to be said about me. Nothing good comes from walking around a place full of powerful and tense people in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t take much effort to interpret my actions as suspicious, and yet I continue forward. I’m an idiot--just because I can’t sleep doesn’t mean I have to wander around campgrounds. My presence is barely tolerated here, I shouldn’t try backstroking in waters I can barely tread. 

But still, I walk, eyes more fixated on the open night sky than anything else. The moon is as full as an overflowing glass, the stars twinkling as if desperate to compete with a light it will never be able to duplicate. I sigh, pressing my lips together. Maybe the stars and I have more in common than I thought. Normally, that would be a good thing. 

Letting out a weary breath, I continue forward, away from the relative safety of the main tents. I’m still on the grounds, I’m approaching the border where the tents of higher ranking officials are. That should make me more nervous, but if anything it almost eases me slightly. 

General Kirigan is not the type to be friendly, and yet our interactions have always been laced with a touch of intimacy I can’t quite explain. We’ve been alone together more and more frequently, and I think that’s how I like him best. It’s strange, but when we’re alone some of his sharpness dulls, leaving space for something I might consider humor or actual personality on anyone else. He probably speaks to many girls like that when they’re alone together--a fact I have to fight to remind myself of--but it’s the closest thing to friendship I have here. Maybe it’s foolish to hold onto that, but I can’t bring myself to release my grip on those sentiments. At least not yet, when the kind moments are still rare and fleeting and no line has been crossed. 

The danger, however, comes from the prospect of not recognizing lines before they’re crossed. Even now, as I walk aimlessly in the night, pacing in hopes of exhausting my thoughts, I’m crossing lines in a much more literal way and even these are ill defined. I must be in new territory now, and even that I can only vaguely recognize because of the strangely humid scent that surrounds this area of the grounds. 

I’m near the banya. I didn’t intend to wander here, but the thought of splashing water on my face is too tempting to pass up on. I move closer, finding a sense of peace in having some direction, even in a small way. 

When the promise of water is only steps away, I begin to regret everything. There’s a figure in the bath. I freeze, ready to attempt to shrink away in hopes of disappearing before I’m caught. This could easily turn extremely awkward even though I technically haven’t done anything. Most people don’t bathe at this hour. Who bathes this late at night? 

I keep my eyes on the individual, trying to make out who they are and how aware they are of their surroundings in the dim light. Pale skin, dark hair--unbelievably attractive torso. My eyes linger there longer than they should. I force my gaze upwards, towards their face as if that can erase my ogling. Embarrassment leaves my face burning--I’m not the ‘ogling’ type, and this person doesn’t even know I’m here. I keep my eyes on them as I step back, taking in unaware features as best I can in the dark. 

I know them--I--Saints, it’s Kirigan. 

Fantastic. Of course he has to be even more impossibly attractive while shirtless and wet. I turn my head upwards sharply, more desperate to not be caught than ever. I would never, ever recover from being caught. Whether he’d tease me or be angry with me, I don’t know. I also don’t know which option I’d prefer. 

I step back again, my gait wider due to my urgency. Snap. The sound of both a twig and my chance of a stealthy escape being shattered. I cringe, craning my neck to the left in a desperate attempt to make it clear that I wasn’t watching him. I take another desperate step, ready to duck behind a nearby tree. Maybe he hasn’t seen me--maybe he’s distracted and assumed that some kind of rabbit or something passed by. He may not actively dislike me, but I’m not sure any semblance of favor he may have for me extends to this situation.

“Y/n.” His tone reveals nothing but his level of certainty. Ignoring him will only make me seem guilty. 

I pause, keeping my gaze off of him. “Yes.” It wasn’t really a question, and yet I still answer it like one. “I was--I couldn’t sleep so I thought I’d get some air, and I was walking kind of aimlessly and I ended up here and I didn’t think anyone would be here.” Why do I feel like I’m making this situation worse? “I’m sorry--I’m gonna--I’m going to go now.” This is the kind of embarrassing moment that will come back to me when I’m trying to fall asleep at night. I know it.

“You know the polite thing to do after intruding is to make eye contact.” 

I don’t think my face has ever felt this warm before. At least he doesn’t sound angry, but his voice doesn’t reveal that much. I raise my gaze carefully, turning my head slowly. “I didn’t mean,” I exhale slowly, “It wasn’t my intention to intrude.” 

He straightens slightly at my words, exposing more of his chest. I stay still, eyes trained on his to avoid an accidental lapse. “You could make it up to me by offering conversation.” Kirigan’s tone is deliberate, his words measured and calm. I don’t speak, feeling like I’m being presented a test I don’t understand, but most of our conversations leave me feeling like that. “Only if you’re comfortable.” 

And just like that, I’m backed into a corner. A challenge. To deny him now would be to expose the effect he has on me. My chin raises a fraction of an inch as I take in that assured half-smirk. “Why wouldn’t I be comfortable?” 

Kirigan arches a dark brow, assessing my response. “Then sit,” his voice has not changed, “You want air and I want company.” 

I don’t think anyone that looks as good as he does shirtless has ever had trouble finding company, especially with the smooth way he speaks. Despite this, I step forward to accept his challenge without calling him out on his coyness. Each step is the crossing of another invisible line until I’m near the water’s edge. I make sure to keep my nightgown at a respectable length as I sit down. 

I make a point of extending my legs towards the water while leaning back so that I can’t be easily accused of being a coward. “I feel the need to warn you that I might not make particularly interesting company.”

He angles his head to the side slightly, drawing attention to his jawline and neck. I force my stare to focus on the water. “I’ve never found you uninteresting.” 

There’s something resigned in the way he says this. On instinct, I look up, taking in the slight softening of his features. The release of his usual sternness only adds to his beauty, a fact that I’m already resenting. 

“You may be the only one.” It’s not meant to be a deprecating comment, but I’m not sure my partial laugh softens my bitterness. I hope it does--I’d rather his interest than the interest of my entire unit. 

Kirigan shifts forward, the water moving with him. “Do you think that any coldness you’re experiencing has to do with you?” 

The question has me drawing my eyebrows together. What else could it be? I shrug, “I’ve considered it.” 

He nods once, eyes hardening slightly. “Do you always have trouble sleeping?” 

The personalness of the question shouldn’t surprise me as much as it does. Kirigan seems to only understand boundaries when he’s the one setting them. “Not really.” A partial lie--this time I’m glad I can’t quite bring myself to look at him. “It’s not uncommon for me, but it’s not something I deal with every night.” 

I risk shifting my eyeline when I hear the sound of water moving. Kirigan’s now resting an arm on the rim of the pool, wet skin dangerously close to my ankle and lower calf. “It’s not always easy,” his voice is low now, “Being alone with your thoughts.” 

That’s not the kind of reply I’d expect from him. I blink twice before turning to study his expression. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him seem so tired--so weary and human and in need of something. The line between his eyebrows and the far off quality of his eyes leave me with the strong desire to give whatever it is he needs to him. The urge to reach out, to touch him in hopes of breaking him free from his odd trance leaves my stomach knotted. That line is too clear to cross so recklessly.

I need to chase away the serious atmosphere he’s created. “Is that why you bathe so late at night?” I let myself smile, “To avoid thoughts?” 

“I like the peace of it.” Something akin to amusement touches his words. “And for the record, little dove,” the nickname is pointed and earns him an eyeroll, “The warm water doesn’t exactly chase away thoughts so much as encourages others.” He pauses. “You understand, considering you can barely look at me.”

This is the most embarrassing thing to have ever happened. The suggestive jilt to his words has to be intentional. Damn him. I turn my head, forcing myself to meet his gaze. “I can look at you just fine.” 

“And if I were a Heartrender and could hear your heartbeat your pulse would be normal?” The question is teasing, a small smile pulling at his lips. 

The warmth in my face increases, spreading down my neck. Kirigan’s expression remains smug. “You’re not as funny as you think you are.” 

“No?” He leans forward, angling his head so close to me I can faintly feel the warmth of his breath on my lower calf. “I find myself amusing.” 

At least being around him like this is getting easier. I open my mouth, ready to provide some sarcastic comment I haven’t thought out yet. My mouth clamps shut on instinct when I feel his touch on my ankle. The faint contact quickly grows, his fingers brushing up my ankle and calf, leaving drops of cool water across my skin.

“What are you doing?” That’s a--a fair question, right? I’m not sure, rational thought slipping from me more and more with each passing second. 

“Nothing, really,” his reply is quick. “Nervous?” 

There is no way he doesn’t know what he’s doing. I roll my eyes, fighting against my instinctual fluster. “No,” a full lie, “You’re just getting me wet.” 

“Barely.” When he’s not busy being brooding he’s not much better than an irritating child. He retracts his hand slowly, fingers grazing my skin slowly as he submerges his hand beneath the water. The loss of contact should feel like a victory. It doesn’t. “Y/n,” he shifts closer, back straightening.

There’s an odd seriousness to his demeanor that almost leaves me reeling. “Yes?” 

He beckons me forward. I hesitate, but comply, letting myself shift closer to the water’s edge. Kirgan’s lips part, but no words leave him before he moves his arm, purposefully splashing water over my thighs and bottom of my nightgown. I let out an instinctively annoyed sound. “That is getting you wet.” 

“Kirigan!” My tone is as menacing as I can make it, but he continues to grin. There’s such a lightness to the look I almost forget to be annoyed. Almost. “I should tell the entire Second Army how much of a child you are.” 

My threat does nothing, his smile softening without fading. “They fear me too much for your stories to make a difference.” He says this flatly. “All of them except you.” 

I don’t know if I’m supposed to make something of that comment. A brief moment passes in which I think his eyes come close to softening. Maybe that’s a side effect of seeing the world as you want. Wait...what do I want? Him? No, no, I can’t. 

Okay, he’s objectively attractive and sometimes I think I may see more depth in him than he wants to be capable of. But that doesn’t mean I’m allowed to want anything with him. Even if he was trustworthy enough for me to be with him in any capacity...even casually, it could never happen. Nothing good could come from having relations with the highest ranked general and I doubt he’d ever want me like that. He likes to fluster people and I’m an easy target. I just accept it because being some level of entertainment to him is better than being nothing to everyone. 

“I don’t think there’s much point in fear.” It feels like a fair answer. The fairest answer I can manage, anyways. 

He sighs, the sound heavy. His hand stretches forward cautiously. I watch him and make no attempt to stop him from touching my lower calf. His fingers trace absentmindedly across the skin. “Of course you’d think that.” 

Again, I don’t know what to make of his words. Or his actions. He couldn’t find anything wrong with me just slightly adjusting my position. It’d be a polite way to remind us both of the natural order of things. But then again, someone like him is allowed to be mad about anything. And I’m not sure I want to remind us of our place. 

Actually, I’m completely sure that I want the opposite of that. But admitting that to myself is enough of a risk. I’ve already crossed thousands of tiny lines and what I want will require us to cross a thousand more. 

“I’m a little surprised you’re not reminding me how foolish a notion like that can be.” 

He lets out a tiny breath as he shifts even closer to me. “Maybe I’m enjoying your foolishness.” 

“I’m not sure if I should take that as a compliment or the opposite.” 

The slightest hint of a smile is visible to me beneath the moon’s glow. There’s something about darkness that adds beauty to things. I wait for him to reply, but instead of speaking his  hand moves further up my leg. I struggle to hide my reaction to his long fingers trailing up my skin.

He’s touched me before, sure. Tiny moments in which he’d push a strand of hair out of my face or wipe at a bit of dirt on my cheekbone. More recently, he had gripped my hip firmly to guide me through a crowd of soldiers. He had been in a hurry, stealing me from a conversation with the only member of my unit that’s been somewhat friendly to me. It wasn’t serious--he had just been rushing me because he only had a minute between meetings and apparently he had too long of a day to not take a moment to speak with me. 

“Are you alright, Dovey?” Normally, the nickname and all of its variations earns him an eyeroll. But everything is a lot less humorous with his hand half up my lower leg, leaving a trail of cool water wherever he touches. 

His fingers press more firmly into my skin. ���Yes, I’m fine--it’s just late.” 

“Hm…” Kirigan breathes before tilting his head slightly. “You’re warm.” I stay silent as his hand shifts slightly. “Perhaps too warm.” 

If I’m hot that has absolutely nothing to do with fever. “I’m fine, General, I promise.” 

“Come closer,” he says, “It’ll take me no time to check.” 

...A little too convenient. My nightgown is still embarrassingly damp from the last time I eased tonight. “Please tell me you don’t find me that naive.” 

“Naive? No.” He lifts his hand slightly. “Warm? Yes.” I still don’t trust him. “I’m not going to do anything. I promise.” 

His eyes are dark and the limited lighting of the moon doesn’t offer me much in my analysis, but what I can see makes him seem genuine. “Why do I feel like that’s not the first time you’ve had to say that?” Despite my comment, I move towards him. 

The back of Kirigan’s palm is pressed to my forehead for less than a second. He brushes his hand down the side of my temple, rotating his wrist so that his fingertips can touch my cheek. His hand then continues to move down my jawline and then my neck...and then finally trails down my collarbone. I bite my tongue to avoid exhaling audibly at the contact. 

“Warm,” he concludes with a tsk, and yet he doesn’t withdraw his hand. “Though that could just have to do with the climate.” His thumb slips beneath the sleeve of my nightgown. “Perhaps you could benefit from joining me.” 

I bite my tongue to avoid letting out a surprised, embarrassingly enthusiastic squeak. I don’t know what’s gotten into him...maybe it’s the night air and the prospect of being fully alone. I should be strong enough to break whatever spell he’s starting to place on me. But I’m not. I’m really, really not. 

He pulls on the sleeve of my nightgown slightly. “I’m…” 

“Unless you’re nervous?” Another damn challenge. To shy away from this would be to expose myself. He tugs on the sleeve a little more assuredly, exposing my shoulder to the humid night. “Do I make you nervous?” 

His voice comes out a shallow rasp. I feel it straight in my core. “...Not more than you should.” 

“More than I should?” 

Ugh--too honest. I let myself get distracted. It shouldn’t be too difficult to explain what I meant. He knows he’s feared. He wants to be feared. “I’m sure we’re both aware that there are a fair amount of cautionary tales revolving around you.” 

His hand falls next to my lap. Oh? I didn’t expect to miss the contact between us so much. His expression seems to have fallen slightly as well. Was it my response to his question? It felt fair and straightforward without being too blunt. “And you believe every cautionary tale you hear?” 

There’s something stiff about the way he asks the question. His moodiness is making me miss his touchiness even more. At least then I didn’t have to feel like I made a mistake. Did I say something wrong? “Should I?”

“It depends on whether or not you plan on being brave.” 

“I told you...I don’t see much point in fear.” 

“And yet you’re still there.” A bit of humor returns to his voice. “Why is that?” 

Rolling my eyes, I shift forward, letting my legs dip into the water. This is as far as I should let this go. I’ve already lost too much more control. “Better?” He’s strangely tense again, a hint of something bitter playing at the smug look he tries for. “You alright?”

“Of course you’d ask me that.” He says this with a tired sigh. “You can never make things easy.” 

“I don’t understand.” 

He shifts backwards slightly. I can feel the distance between us like I’d feel a pebble in my shoe. “Do you believe all the stories about me?” 

Is he still bothered by that? “I didn’t mean it as literally as you’re taking it. All I meant is that people are intimidated by you, but that’s not a bad thing. It’s the way things have to be, you’re the only Shadow Summoner in existence and the army needs you to be intimidating so that they can act on your guidance.”

“The way things have to be,” he echoes, his voice strangely weighted. “There’s a specific kind of loneliness that comes with being feared by everyone.” 

Oh--I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t that. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him feel defeated like that. I reach for his hand without thinking, pulling his fingers towards my lap. “I don’t--I’m not scared of you.” It’s a weak attempt to comfort him, but it’s the only one I can think of. “That probably doesn’t mean anything, but I--” 

His hand turns in my lap, squeezing the exposed part of my thigh. “It means something.” Kirigan’s voice has hardened in a different way. “You’re the only person I’m certain of.” 

Everything in me seems to tighten at that. At the implication of something so personal from someone so closed off. “Kirigan, you don’t have to be as alone as you feel. You talk to me all the time and you do so in a way that makes it easy to forget the cautionary tales.” His hand moves further up my thigh. I fight as I try to remember our usual dynamic. “You’re the only one that talks to me like that.” 

“Have you ever considered that maybe the others refuse to take to you because of the favor I’ve shown you? The instinct to stay away from me is strong enough to extend to those around me.” Kirigan’s hand moves higher up my thigh. “To be near me is to involve solitude.” 

“I don’t care.” The answer leaves me too quickly. “Being near you is worth it.” 

He leans closer before resting his chin on my knee with no hesitation. “Careful, you don’t understand the line you tread.” Kirigan places his hand more firmly between my thighs. “Or perhaps you do...perhaps you know what you want to cross.” 

This time I can’t help the airy sigh that leaves me. Kirigan pushes against my thigh slightly, separating my legs. I feel his breath on my inner thigh before I know what’s going on. I can’t move, I can’t think, I can’t even breathe. That inability to do anything but feel my heart pound against my chest only worsens as I feel his lips press into the inside of my thigh. His lips trail up my skin before his teeth gently sink into the top of my thigh. 

“Is the line you want to cross?” He breathes the question so softly I feel like I’m being coddled. Everything in me feels too hot to think of any kind of coherent response. Kirigan uses his free hand to pull the fabric of my nightgown as high up my thighs as he can from his position below me. “Or maybe this is the line you want to cross?” Kirigan pulls me forward so suddenly I let out a tiny gasp. I’m not fully on the edge of the banya. “Or perhaps this one?” He kisses the skin of my inner thigh gently. Each time I exhale too loudly, his teeth graze my skin. He gets harsher with each passing second. “Lay down.” 

My body listens to him on instinct. How is this happening? How am I this powerless to fight against something that’s so clearly wrong? The sound of water shifting causes my entire body to tense. He’s pulled himself out of the water. Kirigan moves above me instantly, water dripping from his toned chest and dark hair and onto my still damp nightgown. 

Before I can speak, he’s on me completely, his lips pressing against my jaw. He kisses down my neck, his teeth grazing against my skin sporadically. He pulls away from me by tracing his tongue across my collar bone. I let out something dangerously close to a moan. “Such pretty, little sounds.” 

“Kirigan--” 

“The only name I want you to hear from your lips is the only name that I’ve not given myself. The only name that holds meaning to me.” 

His lips graze where my skin meets the hem of my now soaked through nightgown. I’m not sure the poor lighting is offering me enough coverage now. There’s no way the thin fabric leaves much to the imagination while being this wet. He kisses up my chest and neck until his lips reach the shell of my ear. 

“Aleksander.” The name is grace in the form of a breath so soft it’s more like I’m feeling the name than actually hearing it. 

He presses his lips against the spot on my neck directly beneath my ear. I exhale into the contact. “Aleksander.” As I test his true name on my tongue, his teeth dig into my skin much more harshly than before. 

I let out a partial squeak at the sudden shift in pace as his hands grip my waist. “Say it again. Say my name again.”

He traces his tongue gingerly over the skin he just aggravated with his teeth before I can speak. The soothing sensation is so much I can barely find my voice. “Aleksander.” 

His hand bunches the bottom of my nightgown, raising the fabric to my hips. “...Say it just like that.” Kirgan’s rough hand slips between the bone of my hip and the fabric of my hip. “Like I’m the only one that knows you like this.”

“Aleksander.” I breathe as he traces invisible patterns into my skin with his lips. “Aleksander.” Each use of his name earns me extra attention--a stronger hold on my hip, a more adamant nip at the base of my neck. I feel my need for him so heavily I swear it’s leaked into my bones. “Aleksander.”

When he pulls away, I fight the urge to whine. The night is still humid, but with the absence of his touch I feel like I’m shivering. He regards me silently for a long moment before shifting his weight again. I feel my heart stall in my chest as his hand softly brushes a strand of hair out of my face. He lets his hand linger there, at the apple of my cheek. The entire world seems to stall as he leans down, his hand cupping the side of my face as his mouth inches closer to mine. 

“I can feel the fluttering of your heart.” 

Any poor defense dies in my throat as his lips meet mine. He gives me no time to think about what’s happening as he presses into me even harder. Kirigan holds my face as his teeth graze against my bottom lip. My mouth opens slightly in surprise, giving him the opportunity he needs to slip his tongue into my mouth. His tongue slowly brushes against mine, coaxing me into total, delirious, compliance. When he starts to pull away, I react, my hands flying forward to grab his hair. He lets me get away with tugging him towards me, prolonging the kiss as he bites my bottom lip. 

One of his hands leaves my face and travels up the hands holding onto his hair. He pulls me off of him easily, pinning both of my wrists above my head with one hand. “Easy,” Kirigan warns, “You’ve been such a good girl, let’s not ruin it before we’ve started.” 

A tiny sigh leaves me. I can feel the pride he takes in that as his hand trails further down my body. His fingers ghost along the hem of my underwear teasingly. 

“Is someone there?” I’ve never damned the voice of a stranger more. 

Panic and dread roll in my stomach. I’m going to get caught like this, with my nightgown bunched at my hips beneath the General Kirigan. An unclothed, wet, General Kirigan. “I’m bathing.” 

Okay...good...Aleksander spoke. Anyone with common sense would run at the thought of invading on Kirgan’s privacy. It’s a good thing that the soldier had the sense to linger behind a thicket of bushes. “Pardon General, but there’s been a crucial development. A new strategy should be thought of as soon as possible.” 

No. No. The thought of losing contact so entirely, of having a moment that should have never happened be ripped from me before it’s even really happened is overwhelming. I feel my lips pull into a pout. Kirigan’s hand adjusts on me, his thumb pressing teasingly over where I’m neediest. I bite my tongue to avoid making an inappropriate noise. 

“Five minutes--I’ll be in the strategy tent in five minutes.” 

“I’ll tell the others, General.”

Great. I hear the stranger disappear, his feet crushing twigs and grass as he leaves us. Aleksander’s attention returns to me quickly. Disappointment swells in my chest as I take in the solemn look that crosses his features. His hand moves to my chin quickly before pulling me into another deep kiss. It’s too short lived. 

“I have to go.” 

Frowning, I lift my hand to trace my fingers up his arm. It’s softer than I should allow myself to be, but it doesn’t really matter anymore. Not when this is probably never going to happen again. “Do you?” I mumble to myself, half joking.

He sighs once, his thumb brushing against my cheek. “No pouting.” 

Now that whatever little bubble we were in has popped, I’m capable of normal feelings. Including shame. “I am n--” 

“Easy, little dove, I’ll remember all of this when I find you again.” 

This...this is going to happen again? “You’re going to find me?” 

“I haven’t yet heard your voice crack on my name as I undo you.” He punctuates the promise with a kiss to my jaw. “Again.” Another kiss. “And again.” Another brush of his lips as he finally pulls away. “And again.” 

My breath catches itself in my throat as he moves off of me entirely. Damn whatever change in the war that’s pulled him away from me so suddenly. I sit up as he stands. I’m not sure where to look now that he’s not in close enough proximity to cloud my thoughts. I should leave as he dresses, but I can’t quite bring myself to. It doesn’t feel safe, not when the man that interrupted us could reappear at any moment. Not when I want to hold onto his presence like this as long as possible. 

 He squeezes my shoulder warmly as he passes before bending down to press one more kiss next to where his hand is. 

“Soon,” he promises again. 

--

General taglist: @theincredibledeadlyviper, @grishaverse7 @benbarnes-supremacy  @tranquilitymoon @kaitlyn2907 @lunamyangel @christinawxxx @deceivedeer @real-mbappe @tonks33

[betawooper]

Hi, how are you?? If its not too much trouble, I have two questions 1. How do you get motivation to write your fic (which is amazing, btw!!) because I am trying to write a fic of my own but I can't seem to find the motivation to actually sit down and write it out, even though I am super interested in it. 2. If its not too much, do you have any tips on outlining a story?? I'm not very good at planning lol Hope you have a great day!! I love your art and your KNY Plot Rewrite!!

Hiiiiii thank you for the ask!

1.

Honestly dedicating a certain portion of my day just to write has been super helpful. I tend to feel most motivated in the morning so I just write then and just keep dabbling in it.

I do this weird technique where I write with white text on a white background so I don't focus too much on the mistakes. If you find yourself getting overwhelmed, just changing the font color so you can't see what you're typing breaks that anxiety. Drastic, but it works.

I also write on my phone when I'm feeling particularly unmotivated?

Here's a vod of me doing exactly that for Ch 53 (the video quality is very crunchy, forgive me):

I usually use a lot of ADHD strategies to get myself into the mood lol.

2.

It seriously depends on what kind of story you want to write, but I'm assuming you mean novel/longfic type of stuff with a fleshed out story and a whole cast of characters? That's the assumption I'm going under while writing out my next tips.

What is your main theme? Or genre rather. Is it humor? Romance? Tragedy? A combination? Knowing the overall tone that your story will be in helps a lot in the development of the characters, since each character should fit into that theme in some way. In KNY, the main theme of the story is tragedy, and this affects literally everything, from the backstories for all the characters to the literal worldbuilding in the form of Demons (victims of circumstance, cruelty of the world, that kind of thing).

Once that's down, start small. Just figure out your main character, their motivation, their character arc, and what you want them to realize by the end of the story. Can just be as simple as:

main character (Tanjirou)

wants to live a normal life and go back to the way it used to be

ideally, he should realize there is no going back and he has to move on so he doesnt get left behind? oh ye his sister could represent the constantly changing state of the world and his negative reaction to her changes expresses his inability to let go of his past

*note to self, develop sister character more

Don't think about other characters unless they will actually help the main character get closer to the ideal end you have for them, like I did with Nezuko in the above example. Don't want to overwhelm yourself, you know?

From here, you can start developing stuff. Thinking of concepts. If you're anything like me, you've probably already come up with something your story focuses on like "oh yeah there's magic and shit, and they have to take down the government with it" because I like magic and shit. What kind of setting do you want your story to be in? Post-apocalyptic utopia? Dystopia? Steampunk fantasy? 1920s Japan in the midst of rapid westernization? Is this based in a specific region of the real world or are you making up a whole new world for this?

Once you get the basics down, write down story beats. It can be a similar list as before like:

idk ig nezuko becomes a demon and loses her memory

the two meet a super strong swordsman to kinda show the reader the concept of demon slayers AND the highest ranking people from the get go (oh, think of a name for this rank, maybe pillars? bc pillars of hope and shit lol im a genius)

oh shit, you write hashira in 9 strokes? maybe we could have 9 pillars ooooh that would be pog

tanjirou and nezuko have an argument about tanjirou's Problems bc he refuses to talk about anything that bothers him

uhhhhh fight a demon

fight a Strong demon (what the hell am i gonna call these, just do that later)

oh hold on theres gotta be a training montage bc swordfighting takes time to develop

i should add an examination right? yeah like naruto ok put that into the consideration jar

broooo omg what if [insert plot twist here] happened? ive gotta put that in holy shit-

Doesn't even have to be in order. Just let your mind flow. If you have more characters at this point, think about how you want their arcs to end and all that like you did for the main character, then slap those beats into the massive list of story beats.

From here, you can sort stuff out. Then zero in on a specific arc/plot development and build around that. How much you should develop the story depends on how many characters you have and how long you want the story to be. KNY has a fairly large cast and is meant to be serialized, so Gotouge really needed to spend a lot of time thinking about this stuff (and you and I know that didn't end up working out too well lmao, they tried their best though).

Biggest tip is to take your time. You can't create a world in one day, especially if you want to be respectful to the other cultures and stuff you want to portray. Research stuff, look up writing inspiration blogs, all that, just take your time.

Also lemme know if you want to know how I specifically outline stuff in chapters to prepare for writing because its a little different from what people normally do? Idk what people normally do but its certainly not the way how I do it and this post is long enough already.

(Thank you for the compliments btw, good luck on your own story!)

[accio-slytherout]

Mischief Managed

Concept by @helliontherapscallion

Pairings: p!sbi x reader, p!dreamXD x reader, c!Philza x reader (could be taken as platonic/romantic)

characters: TommyInnit, Ph1lza Minecraft, Wilbur, Technoblade, Captain Puffy

mentioned characters: Fundy

Warnings: Fighting, blood, swearing, pranks, trickery (?), shouting (tell me if I missed anything!)

in game dsmp!au

summary: Reader is the god of mischief and trickery. After catching up with their old friend and his family, they got into a fight with the god of the server, dreamXD.

Not proofread

note: reader does not act like peeves! sorry in advance! i really liked this concept, i just had to write it. i put more effort into this than i did on my social studies essay. was fun to write :D straying from canon lore! I was not sure how to write dreamXD's text, so i wrote it in normal text! i am not very good and pranking, and not that creative or smart on those kind of things, so I will not really specify what is going on in the pranking.

flachbacks in italic

masterpost

------

(Y/N) was just skipping around the forest, looking for flowers to make some dye when they stumbled upon a boy that was picking some red flowers.

"WHAT THE F*CK" he shouted with a strong British accent. "Who the f*ck are you?" he continued. "Well who are you child?" they retorted.

"WHAT THE- IM NOT- THE FU- IM NOT A F*CKING CHILD IM A BIG MAN" the 'Big Man' as he called himself retorted, stumbling over his words. He heard a very mischievous laughter come out of the random person he stumbled upon, and he chose to put up the angriest face he could and crossed his arms.

"The name's (Y/N). How about you, big man?" they finally replied with a slight mocking tone. "Tommy. What are you doing here? I've never seen you around before." answered Tommy.

"I'm looking for some dye, so I can dye Fundy's fur" they replied, rather mischievously? Well, point is, Tommy's eyes lit up at the mention of pranking the fox. "Could I maybe help you?" he replied with an equally mischievous tone.

Thats how a friendhip started. They caused pure havoc around the server. Pranking the first person they thought of. They were laughing their butts off on the bench.

"TOMMYINNIT YOU STOP RIGHT THERE!"

Panic rose in their chests as they slowly swallowed and turned around. There stood Captain Puffy looking very angry... with bright pink covering her entire body. They tried their best to hold in their laughter, as she did not look very intimidating.

Yet, Tommy could not help but to start laughing loudly. That pushed (Y/N) over the edge and started laughing hysterically, and they swore they saw Puffy crack a smile at the sight.

"Im- sor- sorry-" he said inbetween his laughter. They both tried their best to stop laughing, and after a while, they did.

Puffy let out a sigh, and said "Tommy, I will get you back. I am warning you." with a glint of amusement in her eyes. Tommy seemed to have sobered up at the thought and looked scared. Puffy left with a wave and headed to her home to probably clean up.

"That was funny though." he said out of the blue. That started another round of laughter to go throught them.

"Say, (Y/N), how old are you?" Tommy asked after they have both calmed down. "I'm the god of mischief and trickery. I'm and immortal being. I am centuries old, kid." they answered.

"Really? That's quite pog! Did you know my father is also immortal? You might know him, name's Philza, Angel of Death. Does that ring a bell?" he rambled, ignoring the fact that they had just called him kid.

(Y/N) was ecstatic at the idea of being able to meet with their old friend again, but decided to say "HECK YEAH! I GET TO MESS WITH HIM AGAIN!" as to hide their feelings. They were the god of trickery after all. They had an image to uphold.

Tommy decided to go take them to Phil. Bad idea. As they reached the door of Phil's cottage, Tommy just burst into the house without knocking.

"Phil~ I'm baack~" Tommy called in a sing-song tone. Phil just said "Welcome back" in a monotone voice from the kitchen without looking.

As he was preparing supper, he heard Techno shout from the living room "TOMMY WHO ON EARTH IS THAT?!". Millions of thoughts start rushing through his head. Who could Tommy have brought with him? He ran out of the kitchen and went to see for himself who it was.

The scene in front of him just made him want to be buried 6 feet under the ground. There it was, His two oldest sons looking at the door from the bottom of the stairs and his youngest son, standing next to the person he hated the most. (Y/N).

They were walking through the forest. Phil felt something touch his shoulder. He turned around, raising his sword as he was startled. There they were, (Y/N), making the weirdest face possible.

"For f*ck's sake (Y/N)! stop it!". That only made them laugh more. "You should have seen your face!" they said inbetween laughter.

The man loathed them. He just wanted to leave them there, in the middle of nowhere, for this was not the only thing they have done in the past hour of adventuring. He, however decided to ignore them, for his heart could not bear the idea of leaving his companion alone.

"Long time no see, Philza." they said with a smirk. "Kill me already" he groaned. That was the only thing that came out of his mouth.

After Phil had supper with his family and the devil- sorry, unexpected guest, he went to clean up as his sons sat in the living room with (Y/N).

"So you're immortal?" said the oldest boy that they learnt was called Wilbur. They nodded as a reply, and he just said "Thats so cool!"

"I have read about you before, however, seeing you, I don't think the book described you correctly. Could you, possibly tell me more about your tricks and stuff?" Technoblade's monotone voice had a slight tone of curiosity and amusement while asking the question.

So they did. They told the boys about their stories. As they finished, they realised that Wilbur and Tommy had fallen asleep and Techno was half paying attention to them.

"You should go to sleep. Both of you. It's quite late already." A voice said behind her. "I'm a god, Phil. I don't need sleep." they retorted as they turned around, looking at the man.

"Suit yourself." he shrugged. He opened his mouth to tell his son to go to sleep, but he realised that his son, in fact was already asleep. He shook his head and got some blankets to lay above his sons. "I guess you can stay the night. It's late anyways" he spoke before (Y/N) could say anything and he left to go to his room. Huge mistake.

Philza minecraft was having a good sleep, when he heard a scream from the living room. He panicked, as his mind made up the worst scenarios possible. As he rushed downstairs, he saw Wilbur with bright pink hair, Tommy with a very bold red hair and hands, along with a half asleep Techno raising his sword.

Only then did he remember, that his least favourite person was at his house. Right as he thought about that, he heard giggling coming from the living room.

"(Y/N)!" he shouted along with Wilbur and Tommy. "Yes?" they batted their eyelashes innocently. Phil watched with amusement at the scene unfolding before him. Tommy and Wilbur shouting at (Y/N) and Techno lowering his sword and laying back down on the couch, sensing no danger.

"Boys, enough. (Y/N), will these dyes wash away?" he finally said in a stern tone that had a hint of amusedment in it. "Ofcourse father of minecraft. Run water through them and they will be gone" they said with such innocence that he would have believed it was not her had he not known it was their doing.

Wilbur and tommy quickly rushed to the bathroom to wash their hair out, and Phil swore the doors of the bathroom would fall off its hinges from the amount of force that was put into opening it.

"I must say, that was pretty funny, (N/N)." Phil said with amusement as he went to prepare some breakfast. (Y/N) smiled proudly from the compliment, as he was always telling her off after pranking.

Phil now remembers why he always asked them to accompany him on adventures. They were fun, and entertaining. Sometimes, they're even smart and helpful. The thought of his adventures with them brought a smile to his face.

A week in their visit, they heard a knock on the door. Phil, thinking it was just (Y/N), thought nothing of it. So he just calmly walks to the door and answers it. What he didn't expect however, was DreamXD at the door, floating in a menacing stance.

"You all give me your youngest son, or you all are dead. You have 24 hours. If you do not hive him by them, you are all dead." DreamXD said in a demonic sound.

As DreamXD turned around, Phil saw a cloud of something covering his sight, he felt... flour? he cleared the flour from his face and saw DreamXD covered in flour and (Y/N) on the roof looking rather sheepishly at DreamXD.

"Sorry, I thought you were Philza" they said sarcastically. "Not sorry, actually." they continued as they cracked an egg and poured it along with some sugar on to DreamXD's head.

DreamXD suddenly whips something out and slapped (Y/N) off the roof. As (Y/N) was used to falling from high places, they landed on the ground with nothing but a few scratches.

DreamXD stabs them with a sword, and blood splattered from their waist. (Y/N), being the god of mischief, had ofcourse had lots of experience on pranking, but wasnt strong. However, they are very witty, as they always find creative ways to prank people.

(Y/N) somehow found a way to make DreamXD retreat, but Phil could not see how. All he saw was smoke, DreamXD leaving and (Y/N) lying on the floor, with blood gushing out of their side making a puddle on the ground.

They let out a chuckle and turned to face Phil. "Your lives are safe, Phil. And what can I say? Mischief... managed." they trailed off as their eyes closed. Phil rushed to bandage them up and put them in a spare bedroom.

A week.

That was how long it was.

One singular week. Seven days. Yet it felt like seven years they had been unconscious. The house felt empty. No chaos. Everyone was worried about them.

Phil let out a sigh. He closed the door and sat down next to where (Y/N) was laying. He traced his index finger over the palm of their hand that he was holding, and whispered "I don't think you know this.. but you really are a great friend, (N/N). I love your personality.. Who am I kidding, I love you."

Phil then thought, they were unconcious. He let out a chuckle at the thought. "Look at me.. talking to someone unconscious." he said out loud, closing his eyes and resting his head on the palm of his hand that was propped up on the bed. Little did he know, they were fully awake, and pretending to be unconscious.

"Aww, thanks Phil. I love you too." he suddenly heard. He whipped his head around to their direction and saw that their head was turned to his direction. He hugged them, minding their injuries and whispered in their ear that he was thankful that they were fine over and over again.

Phil then felt their body shaking and heard gentle sobs coming out of them. He pulled away from the hug and cupped their face in his hands and wiped their tears away.

"What's wrong, (N/N)?" he calmly asked. They just cried more and gave him a hug. They told him that they have never felt accepted, and that the only person that has ever tolerated them was him. They told him that they were happy that he cared for them. They told him how much they cared for him and how great of a friend he was. They told him how much they loved him.

After their little heart to heart session, Phil went to go and prepare lunch for everyone in the house. He told the boys that (Y/N) was awake now. Everyone was glad and relieved that they were awake again. And (Y/N) was glad, that they now had a family that cared for them.

--------

end.