#i just realized that the headband is not mentioned in this snip but i swear it is there and is noted in the rest of the wip <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

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have a little wiptuesday, the headband returns ft. babs this time because why the hell not

“Think not on impure things, Brother Asht.”

Colum whimpers, low in his throat.

And, suddenly, in a lightning flash of clarity, everything makes sense. The weird little Master Templar’s words, his razor-sharp eyes. The flush in Colum the Eighth’s ears, the way he shifts to put the stark white pants back over his lap so fastidiously, even though it would be much more effective to just let it rest closer to his knees.

It’s a sex thing.

“It’s a sex thing,” you say, a moment later, because you have never been all that good about keeping your revelations all to yourself. The dress in your lap sits beautiful and complete. “This is a weird sex thing.”

“It’s not sex,” Colum rushes to correct you, flinching hard. It only solidifies your opinion that yes, somehow, that is what is happening.

“How could a necromancer and a cavalier of our stations commit fornication, and with each other no less, Tern?” Silas’s tone is scorching. “Honestly, I think I might have overestimated your intelligence, and at this stage I didn’t think that was possible.”

You are used to strange and esoteric vibes from closely-related people—feelings that you are witnessing emotional incest, or just regular incest. This is… something else entirely. The closest term that even comes to your mind is puritanical exhibitionism, with you as the unknowing voyeur.

You know, you don’t really mind being a voyeur. It’s a nice, comfortable, usually-sexy space to be in. There are a lot of comfortable lounges and couches in Ida to watch from, and touch yourself if you’re in the mood. But you wanted to get off today, not by your own hand, and sitting back and watching your crush and his weird younger uncle go at it from opposite sides of the room without touching and only barely speaking is not on your agenda.

You set aside Corona’s dress, and you drum up all that confidence you have as one of the top five ranked duelists. It’s easy, to be shameless—they were shameless first. “Whatever you’re doing here—” whatever they call it, if not weird, kinky sex—“I’ll indulge it. But I want an orgasm out of it.” You point at Colum, whose mouth has popped open and revealed a small scar at the corner of his lip. “From him.”