#there's a lot going on and it would need a very strong outline. but in concept it's so sweet and sad and emotional

[anantaru]

GENSHIN + NUT IN ME NOVEMBER

— ꒰ synopsis ꒱ — who cares about NNN? your boyfriend and you certainly don't!

— ꒰ including ꒱ — neuvillette, scaramouche, childe, wriothesley

— ꒰ warnings ꒱ — fem! reader, breeding kink, slight size kink, unprotected sex, very messy & lots of cum, they're a little mean & tease a lot, pussy drunk genshin men

— ꒰ NEUVILLETTE ꒱

from the current appearances, neuvillette could hardly indulge in the magnificent view emitting from underneath his large body— and the handsome man was just about to open his mouth, precisely to spell out those candid words and praises into your ears when you're prompt in your own gentle ministrations by wrapping both arms around his neck to shush him before a mere word could slip, tickling the fine hair on the back of his head.

"it seems— ugh, like we've lost," neuvillette was barely capable to say anything out loud without in his words resulting in crumbling apart when you squeeze around him tighter, his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head in pleasure at the way you were gripping him, your lungs feeling like they stretch out on each new whimper, whine and writhe as he fucks you in sheer desperation.

a faint outline of a groan exudes from the both of you when he bottoms into you again— while now, what was slow at first, meaning just gentle and slow thrusts in and out of you every so softly to build up the fizzing pleasure on your wet insides, soon manifested into something else, the rapid shoves making your things tense tight, your used cunt merging into his stiffened erection as you shake beneath him.

your face squeezes into that of deep pleasure, your nose puckered around the bridge and brows knitted together when your climax was right around the corner to trigger something unnamable in your stomach, a sinking fieriness that almost appeared to be as strong as to numb the salacious thrusts and grinds that were becoming messier, so greedy and harder to tame.

you hear it, those lewd noises, and your body reacts to them as well, a quivering murmur to his tone as soft tremors of neuvillette's groans exhale from his mouth and slip right into your searing kiss— because you see now, you're in control of his mind, and at this rate you're practically begging him to go harder on your cunt with each smack of his hips convulsing on your core when he slants back into you to press his delicate lips against yours, pushing his tongue in between as your slick smears along the thin skin of his shaft, your walls throbbing and turning with each new wave of unforgiving thrusts of his hips splitting you in half.

— ꒰ SCARAMOUCHE ꒱

"why did you even believe i would consider going without this for a whole month?"

oh, who would've thought? but this happened to be way easier for scaramouche, more delicious and empowering than any reluctance or guilt when the both of you haven't even gotten through one day of november without practically being all over each other— your hips arching into his strong thrusts forward, fingers curling into the disheveled bed sheets as your soft insides clench up around his rigid erection. 

"i thought it'll be— fuck, it'll be fun!" you attempt to reason with your boyfriend, although sweetly smirking against his lips demanding entry into your mouth as you began to pepper searing kisses on them, your tongue teasing into his warmth to lap across his wet muscle, your skin sticking against his own as his hips roll back and forth your clenching hole, breaking through your thighs squeezing together with fierce need.

scaramouche breaks the kiss at once, "look at me," he demands, visibly swallowing before taking a deep breath, his voice surprisingly low, a pinch of a rasp tottering on top of your lips as his tone was evidently wrapped inside the limit of a domineering cocoon fully consisting of vicious pleasure.

"you know that's no fun," you tremble as you shake under his looming body, his hips pressing in deep, in fact, so deep that you were now full of him, crowded as your pussy made his pace stutter, your hole overflowing with his throbbing cock and altering the steady stream of pleasure running through your veins, his grin only widening at the feeling of how much you liked the way he fucked you so desperately.

"but this is fun, wouldn't you agree?" scaramouche made sure to convey each of his words with a new, even stronger, sharp thrust into your warm hole as his balls tighten against you, the heaviness of his length pressing through your solid ring pulls your body in a tremble, your face now buried in the curve of his neck as you climax with a loud cry of his name, the sudden compression of your pussy making it harder for him to contain himself as he cums hard as well, spilling hot white ropes of sticky cum deep inside your pulsing spots that the heaviness of him made you wince softly.

"this— oh this feel so good." kuni mumbles against your lips with a large smirk manifesting on his handsome features, grunting as he continues to pound sloppily into you, "you feel so good," his hips treasuring how your cunt continuously throbbed around his shaft as you close your eyes due to exhaustion, breathing out heavily at the same time, "all mine."

— ꒰ CHILDE ꒱

"ajax, i don't— ahh, think that's what no nut november is about,"

you really do not have to tell childe— and the salacious thoughts he had about breaking the little bet between you was clinging on to his brain ever so vividly, until he simply could not resist himself and split your thighs underneath him the second he stepped home, pressing his slender fingers into the flesh of your ass as he moves you back and forth on his length, the hot breathes he expelled going hand in hand with each new thrust controlling your frame, his heaves fanning against your skin as his delicious traces invade your psyche and cloud your mind.

"you wouldn't say?" there was a curve in his voice, one that made his sentence sound all the more mischievous and deadly as childe clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

you know you're done for when his hips suddenly pick up on pace, as if he wanted, no, needed to show you that he was very much aware that he was breaking the rules of such silly little bet, every massive shove amplified by the enduring limbs in his muscular frame, your inflamed pussy squelches loudly with the wet smacks of his hips giving you no time to rest.

you whimper, if you can even call it that because in truth, it was a desperate attempt of a pathetic little sob, your glasslike eyes beclouded with deep-rooted bliss— and ugh, the harbinger was just absolutely intoxicating, it's totally unfair! and you were reacting just the way he wanted you to as you found yourself to indulge in his maddening fragrance penetrating your tottering skin, your nose buried into his neck as you inhale it deeper, sneakily teasing your fingers into his silken hair.

it only needed a couple more thrusts before you unravel underneath his looming shade at the same time as the tightened bubble in childe's stomach snapped in two, thick and heavy whites causing havoc inside of your pussy when you feel his tongue push into your mouth as to drink in your filthy moans, swallow the desperate attempts to signalize just how fucking good he felt when he pushes his load all into your little cunt to keep it there, the delicious pleasure on your lower area weighing you down the bed as you're nothing but a tremble left, your hole tensing every so often before he pulls out to watch the sweet mess he made on you.

— ꒰ WRIOTHESLEY ꒱

a flavorful multitude of skilled touches deeply dwell inside of your swelling sensitivity— with one trace in particular that sought out to reach the deepest parts of your responsive nerves.

wriothesley turns the air in the room heavy within the period of a single heart beat as he presses into your hole, the lewd squelches of wetness slapping against each other overcrowding the room as he fucks you with his weighty cock— a thin sparkle of sweat persisting over his chiseled chest as you squeeze roughly at his shaft, sending him deeper into you.

but wriothesley needed more, he had to make it somehow messier than it already was— because careful now and listen close, but the duke had found your overly irritating talk about being so dear confident about going a whole fucking month without doing this a little bit insulting, in fact, have you already forgotten what kind of emotions he was able to awake within you with nothing but his cock fucking you filthily until your thighs tremble on either side of him?

now, your bodies were sticked up together, the scent of lewd sex hanging in the air and mixed with the glazing scent of cologne and sweaty musk enticing the duke to fuck you harder, his once precise thrusts developing into sloppy and desperate movements, your skin practically on fire when he races through your walls with each squeeze of your cunt knocking the air from his lungs.

your fingers slide through his matted hair, your body lost between the pressure of his thick shaft dragging along your sensitivity as your arousal smeared all over his base, drenching the sheets below as he feels his balls tighten, he's so close, his body suddenly even heavier against your own as he slants himself forward, your erected nipples rubbing across his chiseled chest when he pins you down at once, leaning into you until merely a hairbreadth away.

"isn't this so much better, hm?"

©2023 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[hiaennyddei]

is the King in Yellow phallic or yonic ? Discuss. [i am sent to the Dreamlands for 20 years]

Design notes under the cut !

John :

his coat has 2 layers. the outside is always the same shape, the inside is a mess of fabric that doesn't make much sense and whose shape changes depending on what he needs.

his outer cloak separates in 4 large ribbons that act more or less as legs. they're very strong but not very agile.

there's a darker ribbon going from his hood down his back that acts roughly like a tail. he uses it for balance (like a cat), mobility (like a snake), or attack (like a scorpion) depending on what he needs

thin ribbons float and wrap around his arms, and some more can come from his inner cloak. they act as precision limbs.

his hands look human-ish, but very bony and with short claws. the skin feels like porcelain.

he usually has 4 hands out, but can remove or add some as needed.

the brooch on his cloak has the same sigil than the one on his book

the teeth in his mouth are ivory-white

some areas of him are always in complete darkness (the inside of his hood, the deep folds of his cloak). you can only ever see the outline of his face.

the cloak is part of his body as much as the arms, possibly more so

the halo/crown melts more the more he strays from godhood. it is always tilted towards Arthur. (it built back up to an extent during his stint in the dark worlds in s3, then started melting again)

the crown's spikes always point straight up, regardless of how tilted the crown is

King in Yellow :

Some common points with John : hooded cloak with sharp tails, yellow, ribbons/tendrils, vertical mouth, crown, jewelry, bony arms, some areas are comletely in darkness, obscured face, glowing eye(s)

Some differences : John's yellow is warmer ; John has fancy embroideries, King is much more uniform ; John's cloak has natural folds, King's looks more geometrical ; John's eye is bright all the way in, King's is dark at the center like a black hole ; John's hands are human-like, King's has two opposable thumbs like owl talons

Generally they have similar building blocks (cloak, yellow theme, ribbons/tendrils...) but John is warmer, has more human traits, and is generally more organic/more natural-looking.

The King's crown has two points broken off (one for John, one for Yellow)

If you stand in front of the king it always looks like light is coming from behind him, so the side you see is always is semi-darkness and the cast shadow is always on you. If you could circle around him, the shadow would follow you like a compass

The hands are more "puppeted" additions than actual body parts

Yellow :

Basically the King in Yellow forced into a situation of weakness and fragile humanity

Shade of yellow is closer to the King's than John's

Coat's cut has the sharpness and geometry of the King's, but it's imperfect and has visible folds

Crown is broken as representation of his weakness, but unlike John's it's forcefully and neatly broken instead of melted

Him having hands is representative of being forced into a human, but they still take inhuman shapes with two opposable thumbs

Makes a point to keep up appearances, hence the jewelry and coat patterns, but doesn't have the King's glory

Has two eyes because he has Arthur's

Has the king's monstruous tendrils, but a lot more disorganized and more fabric-y than shadow. They spill out of the area where his coat's symetry is broken.

[fieldofdaisiies]

Scars Like Mine pt. 2

paring: Azriel x Reader | type: fluff | words: 1,6k | warnings: none. playlist: hurts | scars to your beautiful | beauty marks | stronger | fly with me finally part 2 is here, I am sorry for the long wait; part 1 (how Azriel meets Elia and her mother)

“Are we going flying now?” Elia bounces up and down on her chair, then gulps down the rest of her hot cocoa in one big sip. She taps her fingers onto the wooden table, her gaze ping-ponging between Azriel and you.

You reach for your daughter’s hand, trying to calm her a little while throwing Azriel an apologetic look, but he only smiles politely. “Azriel has just arrived here, my love, give him a little break and let him enjoy breakfast with us.”

It has become a natural thing for the three of you. Azriel has come here often in the past months, at least two times a week, to have breakfast with you and then go flying with Elia. Maybe on one or the other occasion, unbeknownst to your daughter, Azriel already arrived the evening before and spent the night with you. Yes, yes, it is true. The two of you have started dating a while ago and you couldn’t be happier. 

Elia knows that you are dating, knows that her mummy is suddenly a lot happier, and her days are brighter. Elia loves this, loves to see her mother smile and laugh so much, and loves to have Azriel here to fly with her. He is great at flying and can teach her so many things. She has already learned how to do a turn, a twist and fly a spiral. 

It gives you small heart attacks whenever you see those stunts, but you know that with Azriel, and him always being close to her, she is safe and nothing can happen to her, or will ever happen to her. 

“It is fine,” Azriel says, “I’m almost done anyway.” He takes a sip from his water, before gulping down the whole glass and rising from his chair. Your gaze follows him, the outline of his strong, solid body, and you pull your lower lip between your lips when memories of the other night fill your mind. It is insane and should be forbidden what his wicked mouth and his hands can do, and you wonder how you got so lucky to have met him. 

Not only for yourself. He is not only a god in the sheets. Azriel is everything you have ever hoped for in a male. Kind, caring, charming, wonderful, smart, and he loves your daughter and treats her with so much kindness and fatherly-love (even though she is not his daughter) your heart wants to cry. You have cried on many occasions already, not believing that you actually got so lucky to finally have this amazing male in your life. 

Azriel reaches out his hand when Elia jumps up from her chair and starts punching the air. He brushes his scarred hand over your head and smiles when he meets your gaze. “We’ll be careful, I promise.”

“I know,” you smile up at him and place your hand atop his, thumb stroking his marred skin. “I trust you.” You rise as well, and kiss him on his cheek and then pull your daughter into your arms, squeezing her tightly while plastering her face with kisses. “I also trust you, no crazy stunts or twists or spins,” you tell her, knowing it is useless anyway. 

In the corner of your eye you catch Azriel grinning at her, knowing that they plan on doing stunts and crazy twists and turns, but if it brings her joy, you would never forbid it. She will be fine you, you know it. 

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

“I am flying!” Elia blazes ahead of Azriel, throws him a big grin over her shoulder. She is now onto her third spin in a row, Azriel always close to her in order to catch her if she threatens to fall. She has turned into a great flyer, but Azriel doesn’t fully trust her abilities yet. She is still very young, the muscles in her wings not yet so strong. 

She is so fast, and her laughter so radiant it fills Azriel with pure bliss. Seeing her happy, it is so good and knowing how happy her happiness makes you, is all Azriel needs in life. The two of you have made his life so much better – in you he has found a family, one that resembles the one his brothers have and he couldn’t be any happier. 

“Look!” Elia hollers and Azriel grins brightly. 

“So amazing, Elia!” he shouts to her over the rising wind, showing her thumbs up. She makes another spin and now even Azriel’s stomach dips. She catches herself and blazes away once again. She twirls around Azriel when she changes direction. And then…

Out of the blue, words leave her mouth that nearly make Azriel lose balance, that nearly throw him off his wings and make him slam to the ground.

“Look, dad, I am flying like a bird. I am weightless and free” She makes another twirl, one big swirl around Azriel, grinning from one ear to the other, fully oblivious to what she has just said.

For a few months, he has flown with Elia, many times, more than he can count on both hands, but never has she called him anything but Azriel before. It is hard to catch himself now. Although he never admitted it, he has always hoped for a little family of his own and children. And now…now this might truly become reality. 

The rest of the flying session passes too quickly, Azriel is unfocused, distracted but always careful so nothing happens to your daughter, but his thoughts stray, and he finds himself imagining a future where the three of you are truly a family – you and him married, and Elia calling him dad on a daily basis. It is a beautiful dream, so beautiful tears start to burn behind his eyes when he catches Elia in his arms and helps her lower herself to the ground. 

She inhales deeply, then tucks in her wings. “I need to tell mummy about flying today, come come!” She tugs at Azriel’s hand, already setting out for your hut, dragging him along with her. 

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

You brush the wet sponge over his back, and softly move on to his left wing, careful not to touch the sensitive parts. Leaning in, you kiss the nape of his neck, then carry on to help him wash his back. Elia is already fast asleep, after telling you everything about the flying session while you ate dinner. It was wonderful to listen to her, and you couldn’t stop smiling when she recounted all the swirls and twirls she made and how much joy flying brings her. 

The only thing that confused you, how absentminded Azriel seemed during dinner. He hardly added any comments, normally he loved talking about flying with Elia, this time he kept calm, was mostly distracted and you really hope he will open up what has been going on within him. 

It is almost as if he can read your mind, because only a moment after you finish your thought, he says, in a voice full of emotion, “Elia called me dad today.”

You stop. Everything stops. Your hand folds over your mouth, to keep the gasp that threatens to escape contained. Tears start to build up in your eyes and then the sponge drops into the water. “Are you–is it–I hope–”

“I didn’t mind,” Azriel answers quickly, having noticed your sudden tension. He turns in the tub, tucking in his wings so he can look up at you. “Actually…” He inhales a deep breath and his eyes close. “I actually appreciated it a lot, and didn’t mind at all. I liked it,” he sheepishly admits. “I have always wanted children, and being with you and having Elia in my life as well has brought me more joy than anything else in my life before. I couldn’t be happier and her calling me dad…it felt so right.”

“It is alright for you?” you ask, carefully.

“Of course!” Azriel turns even more in the tub and places his hand on your knee. “Is it alright for you? She has a father after all and he–”

“He was an asshole and I never ever want her to have anything to do with him. You are the best thing that could happen to her, and I love that she has probably realised that as well. She has never asked for her father, she knows that he has caused us this pain, that her body is marred from fire because of his doings.” 

You swallow around the lump in your throat and tears roll down your cheeks. “I couldn’t have hoped for a better father substitute than you. You are everything I could have ever asked for and she loves you.”

“And I love you, and our little…”

“Family,” you finish for him, cradling his face in your hands and kissing his lips softly.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

At first you hear a door open. Azriel is deep asleep, he doesn’t hear it and also not the soft padding of feet over the ground. The bed dips on your side, and you reach out your arms, lifting your daughter into the bed. “Can I sleep here tonight?” 

You kiss her brow. “Of course, my love.”

You help her crawl over your, so she can get comfortable between you and Azriel, snuggling up to your side, her face buried in the crook of your neck. Azriel stirs awake, but not completely, he mumbles a few incomprehensible words and then simply curls his arm around the both of you, inhaling deeply before falling right back asleep. 

You have to smile to yourself, your heart so full of love and bliss, it nearly bursts out of your chest. And the smile stays on your lips when you fall asleep, the two most important people close to you, in your arms and you know that everything is alright and a bright future is ahead of you. 

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii@nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @ummmmmwat @azbracadabra @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @bsenpai @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @azrielscertifiedslut @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @hanasakr @high-bi-andreadytocry @eerievixen @feyretopia @moonlightazriel @randomness-it-is @brekkershadowsinger @eliieee23 @girasoli-e-sorrisi @illyrianvalkyriecarynthian  @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @topaz125 @illyrian-dreamer @azriels-mate123 @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @azriels-mate2 @callmeblaire @lilah-asteria

[prettynice8]

Kinkmas Day 6: Size kink

Pairing: Akaza x male reader

This guy

Warnings: size kink DUH, swearing, sex, reader rides Akaza, pretty fluffy

Word count: 1,237

You were just relaxing in the comfort of your own home when you heard something open, then a cold breeze washed over you, causing a chill to run down your spine. Your body shot right up and OH MY GOD.

No I'm just fucking with you, it was just your big demon friend Akaza.

"Sorry, did I startle you?" He asked, noticing your body shooting up off of your couch. You breath rapidly, clutching your chest from the spook he gave you.

"Oh no, I'm fine." You said, clearly lying. His large body walks closer to you, and you feel a tingle down your neck every time he steps closer. You never get used to his large body, strong muscular arms and abs that he always shows off. His fluffy pink hair that you just yearn to run your hands through, his tattoos that you would love to chase the outlines of with your finger while he's sleeping off a night of heated passion and yes you were absolutely in love with him.

Obviously, he didn't know, though you weren't very secretive about it. Always staring at him a little too long and your touches a little too lasting. You were practically obsessed, and you never really knew if he felt the same way. I mean sure you catch him staring at you all the time, he also always stops over for seemingly no reason, and he cuddles you an awful lot, but that's just what friends do, right? And besides he had wife, but bi and pan people do exist. Huh.

Anygay, back to the his striking yellow eyes staring right into yours.

"You okay?" he questioned, breaking you out of your haze and returning all of your attention back on him.

"I'm swell." You replied, still caught in his large frame, like seriously this mother fucker DWARFS you. His biceps are practically the size of your head, oh and those abs. "So why are you here?" you asked, though you already kind of know, he's probably just here because he felt like it.

"Just felt like it." He answered. Yep, called it. For such an evil demon or whatever he sure is predictable. You plop a seat on the couch and pat the spot next to you.

"Take a seat." you said, finally reacting normally like he was your just a friend, which he was, right? You honestly don't fucking know at this point. He obliges, sitting on the spot you patted.

"So, how's life?" he asked, trying to spark conversation.

"Pretty ok, you?" You questioned back.

"Better now that you're here." He replied, the chuckled after, you roll your eyes. "But really, I am grateful to talk to you."

"You could do that anytime." You stated, surprised by his response. He comes a little closer to you now, to the point where your sides are touching.

"And that's why I'm grateful." He said. This is definitely weird, right?

It's quiet for a while after that, you don't really know how to respond to his sudden declaration of gratitude. It remains that way, silently sitting next to each other, you feel his large arm brush against your own. It remains that way for a while until he SUDDENLY KISSES YOU!

You are completely stunned until finally realizing what's going on, then you kiss him right back. He breaks away,

"I'm sorry if that was uncalled for, I just really needed to." He apologizes, you make it clear to him that it was very warranted by kissing him. He automatically kisses you back, his tongue already in your mouth. His tongue starts to explore your mouth, dancing with yours.

His breaks once again to put you on top of him. You barely fill up his massive lap, once he plops you into his lap, he goes right back to kissing you. Your hands do what they have wished to do for months now, you run your hands through his soft pink hair while his hands go for your plump ass. This causes you to let out a little moan, allowing his tongue to go deeper down your mouth, practically being in the back of your throat now, but kissing isn't enough for him right now.

He takes off his vest, obviously not much changing sense already was shirtless, but he also takes your shirt off. He then goes to removing your pants, but before he can take his own off you stop him. His face is one of confusion until you kneel down right in front of him, taking them off for him. His giant cock springs free, and when I tell you it's giant, I mean GIANT.

You begin to lick the tip, causing small noises to come out of Akaza's mouth, but you have the rest of your life to suck his dick, so you get right back up on your designated place on his lap. He sticks his fingers in your ass, spreading just enough to where his member will probably still rip you in half, but at least this time it won't be instant.

He sticks it in, taking a long-time since he is SO FUCKING BIG. His massive cock splitting you open. After what feels like hours only the tip is in. Tears start to form in the corner of your eyes due to the discomfort.

"Shush baby, it's ok." He assured, though it's awfully hard to believe that. Right when you think that it will never go in, he kisses you deeply and passionately, calming your down enough to where he's able to be balls deep.

You let out a sigh of relief and a yelp of pain from his huge dick moving so much so quickly after not moving at all. Your hands rest on his muscled chest for traction, trying not to feint.

"Just tell me when you are ready." He said, not moving until getting the go from you that it's ok.

"Now." You said, and with that he puts hands on your ass and begins to lift you up and down slowly, not wanting to hurt you. You let out whines of discomfort.

"I'm sorry baby, it will start to feel good soon I promise." Akaza reassured, feeling bad for you. He calms you down with light kisses on your face, making sure to kiss the tears welling up in your eyes away as well.

When you get more comfortable with his size, he increases his pace. Lifting you on his girth quicker, the whines of displeasure now finally turning into moans of bliss.

"Told you dear." He said, glad that you're enjoying as much as he is. He keeps a steady and quick pace, then pumping his own hips into you, causing your moans to get louder.

Your tongue lulls out of your mouth, the pleasure now near over encompassing as you feel your release coming on so quickly, his dick really is something special.

"I'm close." You said, warning him on your coming release,

"Really, so quickly?" He replied in a surprised manner. You answer by sticking your tongue out at him, causing you both to breathlessly laugh.

His thrusts and lifting both get quicker and sloppier as he chases for both of your climaxes. You're the first, cumming all over his chest, he's next, cumming right in your ass.

"I LOVE YOU" You both say at the same time, finally cementing your relationship.

THE END

[yandere-kokeshi]

Yandere Ghost, König, and Soap reacting to their male darling having cock-piercings

Warnings: yandere behavior and NSFW

A/N: this idea came to me because of my lovely

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish:

Seeing your Jacob's ladder for the first time whilst giving you a BJ after coming home from a three-month mission.

Johnny finds your piercing both stunning and nerve-wrecking. He’s calling you a brave man, definitely takes a minute to take it in, as he can’t imagine the pain you went through to get it done. 

He teases you. So much. He likes to pull your buttons, always making sure to kiss your piercing before deep-throating your entire cock — going deep, rolling his tongue over the cold bars until you beg him for a break. Though, we both know you enjoy it. 

Johnny can feel your breathing slow — something he loves. Your legs are widened enough, he sunk to his knees as the sounds of your heaving breathing and gasping when he held your cock, words blowing hot air directly on your sensitive skin. 

His fingers traced the amount of aligned bars, making you shutter. He looked up at you, his eyes a deeper, darker, and deceiving blue. Something lusting in the water. Those narrow eyes boreholes into your exposed body as he chuckled at the choice of jewelry color. 

“When did ya’ get it?” 

You laughed, scooting deeper into the sofa, “Got it before you left. Was going to surprise you… then… y’know.”

He hummed, watching how your cock pulsed against his watchful gaze. Before you know it, his head dipped down. Soap gripped your left thigh, holding it open as his tongue caressed your twitching flesh. The hot, wet muscle lapped hungrily. It flicked at your slit, before going down to your piercings — circling and outline the curves of the barbells. 

Your legs trembled on either side of his head. His mouth working you open like that was enough to fog your mind entirely.

“You like that?” he cooed between the slurps of his mouth against you. “Oh, I bet you fuckin’ do.”

You nodded a little too eagerly. His voice was heavy and deep with a depraved need to dominate you. To sully your skin with his desire. You weren’t going to stop him. 

Whimpering out, you tugged down at his hair, making him deepen his warmth. Your eyes easily rolled back into your head, leaning against the couch. It was safe to say, he was nowhere near done admiring your piercings. 

König:

Finding out you have a magic cross as he unbuckles your pants, his dirty and teasing voice coming out as he comes back from a mission; clearly agitated.

Very intrigued with your piercing. He’s only seen images or videos with men having these painful shrewd done to their body; at best, König treats it pretty much like a gem, a statue made out of pure Gold. 

Admires it a lot. He’s eager to know how more sensitive you are, especially where the piercings are placed. He’s prone to doing new things: new positions, researching on how to overstimulate you, and what works best. Though, don’t forget, he loves to tease. 

“Let me, please—!”

“No,” he interrupted, his eyes staring at your piercing before peering up at you, his neutral scowl and deepening eyes sending chills down your skin. “Who did it?”

You shrug your shoulders, not clearly remembering your piercer. Who would? He growled at your answer before beginning to place a few kisses on the inside of your thighs, then biting down roughly – renewing his fading marks before moving down to your balls, licking along your raphe.  

You let out a wail and threw your arms over your eyes. Your body was covered in a thin layer of sweat already. You dig your heels into his shoulders, begging without words for him to finally let you finish.

“König, would you—!”

His strong arms clamp down on your ankles and pull them down until your thighs are squished against him. König growled, a fair warning to knock it off. 

You listened, but only gasped and felt the urge to clamp your knees shut as his fingers dipped down until they prodded at your puckered entrance — two thick fingers already slicked from sweat and a bit of lube. He started to stretch your hole. 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of teasing, his mouth engulfed your cock — his soft tortuous tongue laps around the tip of your cock, circling around the barbells as he watches your face. After a few more circles, his tongue switches to flicking up and down.

His two strong fingers press upwards inside you, making small curls until he is able to hit the spot with every press up. The hand on your stomach pressed down even harder, and the fingers inside you pressed up, now directly pushing the spot inside you. 

Your hand naturally went down and tugged at König’s hair, his blue-darkened eyes caught yours. He growled again, sending vibrations onto your sex. A high, needy moan slips from your lips as he deepened his groans, creating more vigorous vibrations on your cock. 

His hold on your thighs tightens, his hands already creating bruises from his touchiness. Though, he released your cock with a pop! His fingers exciting your now-used hole and reached upwards to your pulsing chest.

Dark eyes caught yours. He grunted your name and you, heaving harshly, let out a whine at his painful torture as he restarted — all over again. 

Clearly, with his look, he wasn’t going to let you finish anytime soon due to being a brat. And getting something without his permission.

Simon “Ghost” Riley:

Coming across your Reverse Prince Albert piercing after he decides on surprising you in the shower — right when he comes home from a long and grueling mission.

Not a stranger to piercings; finds it pretty impressive as well as unique. Before you know it, his hands are surrounding your cock; rubbing it in a way that’s devilish. 

He knows how sensitive you already are — he does, and with this? He’s definitely using this as an advantage to touch you more. You’re testing his patience, aren’t you? He can’t wait to see how long he can tease you till tears come down. 

It’s a slow act, really. At first, you didn’t know he was there. And next, you felt arms around your lower waist and a familiar presence that was too hard to ignore. Not with the automatic hard nudge of something hitting the back of your thigh. 

“Seems like someone missed me,” you teased, feeling his fingers trail to your thighs then back upwards to your stomach. His head rests on the back of your neck, smelling your skin. 

“When did ya’ get this?” Simon asks, peering over your head to look at your new piercing.

You let out a laugh before answering: “Got it a week after you left.”

He hummed, before starting to nip at your neck, sucking permanent marks as you lean back, moaning at the pressured water and his attacks. Though, you gazed down your legs, seeing Simon’s erect cock positioning right between your thighs, below your balls.

It’s ridiculous, no matter the times you two have had sex in the shower – especially after his missions, you find yourself always flustered. Ears feeling hot and cheeks warm like hell. You couldn’t stop peering down at his cock – huge in every sense, the shaft of it is thick and veiny. The tip of his cock is shiny from his pre-cum and the pressurized water.

You always loved to admire his cock, but it’s his turn now. To admire and worship your body like you’ve always done to him. 

“Someone shy?” he teased, one of his hands staying on your waist as the other reached down to your own sex, positioning his fingers to trail up and down your erect cock. You shuddered when his thumb grazed against your tip, as well as the piercing. 

He clicked his tongue, feeling you shutter. His tongue reconnects with your neck, sucking and pulling at your skin before he smooths his thumb over the head of your cock. You groan, eyelids fluttering closed as you lean back into him; feeling his own pulse between your slicked thighs. 

A chuckle sounds above you, and you crane your neck to catch his eyes. “M’ gonna reward you.”

Before you could say anything, his hand engulfed your length – rubbing you up and down as his hand, that was originally on your hip, went up to your throat; gripping it as a way to deepen his attacks on your shoulders. 

“Fuck—” you choke on your curse, thighs rattling against him as he circles your head slowly. It’s blissful, the sticky, warm cum that blooms out of your head makes him growl. You probably look ridiculous, eyes rolling in the back of your skull as you claw at his arm. 

The already thin pink marks showing. But, it does little to phase the man. 

“What a good boy,” he murmurs, continuing his assault on your flesh. You wanted to tell him to go faster, but you knew if you did so, he’d stop it. Teasing you. Calling you his whore. His slut to tame. 

As if Ghost couldn’t handle it, the hand around your throat went back to your hip. His lips attached your neck as he started to slowly fuck your thighs. Simon suckled, kissed, and bit along your neck, guaranteeing to leave more as he promised. 

You keened, arching your back and attempting to pull him in a kiss. His lips crashed against yours and his tongue pushed into your mouth. 

“Imgonna- m’ cum!” you choke with each sudden movement, his hand quickening its pace. He shifts before long, his hips coming flush against yours before he nearly pulls out, only to slam right back into your used thighs.

Your fingernails sank deep into the curves of his bicep as the waves of bliss crash over you. You came in the shower, sending your own onto the floor as Ghost started to hit his hips faster and faster.

“Hah– Shit-” he slurs, his voice reaching your ears. Finally, he cums with a haggard moan, body trembling as his cock spurts between your thighs and now the floor – mixing with your own down the drain.

Neither of you moved for a while, basking in the initial afterglow, before Simon pulled out between your stained thighs. You whined out, before yelping out in surprise; getting hiked up onto his shoulders as he kneeled to the ground.

Obviously, his hunger wasn’t satisfied.

—

My Masterlist :) || hope you enjoy, stay well!

© yandere-kokeshi 2023 — Do not copy, modify, edit, repost, or use my works for ASMR readings, tiktoks, or other content.

[dilatorywriting]

Heroes vs. Villains : Diasomnia [Part 3]

Gender Neutral Reader x Diasomnia vs. Prince Stefan Word Count: 3.0k

Summary: Woe to the Ramshackle Prefect, being caught up in the drama between the Disney Villains and their respective heroes. Diasomnia Version

ie. Apparently even Crowned Princes aren’t safe from being chastised by their Grandmothers. And all the while, Prince Stefan treats you to a surprisingly heartfelt monologue.

[PART 1] [PART 2] [PART 3]

Lilia herded you back into the castle with a look on his face that was not dissimilar to an aging mother who needed either a really strong bottle of wine or an even stronger exorcist.

Not long after the start of the thundering downpour, there had been a strange toll of bells. They were heavy, old. And the sour look on Malleus’s face had only shriveled up all the tighter upon hearing it. People had hurriedly begun to disperse at the sound, muttering (excitably? Nervously? You couldn’t tell) as they went. And that was when Lilia had bodily hauled you back inside, with the aforementioned aggrieved expression.

“…Is everything alright?” you asked, because you felt like it needed asking. Even if the answer was obvious.

Lilia smiled and it looked more like a civil baring of teeth. “Of course it is. Malleus is just in for a bit of a pep talk, I think.”

“From you?” you frowned, confused.

“Oh, dear me, no,” Lilia laughed. “From his grandmother.”

“His grandmother,” you repeated, and Lilia nodded. “Like, the current Queen of Briar Valley Grandmother.” Another nod.

Uh-oh.

“He’s not… in a lot of trouble or anything, is he?” you pressed, concerned.

Lilia sighed again, long suffering. “One could only hope. But, alas, she dotes on him terribly.” A pause then, as he tapped a pointed, black, nail against his chin. “And I suppose in comparison to some of his tantrums growing up, a tsunami is rather tame. He froze the entire castle one evening when his grandmother was too busy to attend dinner. Has he told you that before?”

“He what?” you gawked.

The grin playing at Lilia’s lips had softened into something begrudgingly fond. “Mmm. He was certainly an unruly toddler.”

And with that little tidbit of marginally terrifying new knowledge to tuck away, Lilia left you to your soggy devices. You managed to wring an entire bucket’s worth of water out of your jacket before deciding it was a lost cause and dumping it in the bathtub. It landed against the tile with a sad, wet, plap. You’d already gone through all the towels in your little ensuite in an attempt to mop up the mucky trail you’d left throughout the room, but you were still wet and cold.

You headed back into your bedroom, determined to just dive under the fluffy duvet and camp out until you’d stopped shivering. But then, there by the doorway was another pile of fresh towels. You picked at the top one curiously and it was warm—perfectly toasty and nearly steaming beneath your chilled fingers. The wet outlines left by your hands melted back into pleasantly dry softness nearly the very moment you’d even touched the fabric. You whipped the towel around, absolutely gob smacked yet again by the simple wonders of magic.

With your new supernatural squeegee at your side, you were dry and cozy within minutes. You weren’t sure who exactly had deposited these wonderful gifts at your door, but you thought back to Lilia and his dripping, wet-cat, misery and decided that he would probably appreciate one. And Silver. Sebek too, probably. And even then, the pile was massive. You could likely just go about handing them out to every drenched person you could find and there would still be more left. And also maybe it was kind of an excuse so that you’d have a chance to properly explore a super cool castle without Sebek breathing irritably down your neck.

So you hauled the neatly constructed tower of fluff into your arms and began your newest adventure.

Your trio of friends turned out to be very hard to find (and Malleus wasn’t even being counted in that to begin with, because if he was being sequestered off with his grandmother, that was just a lost cause). You did, however, very quicky stumble upon another familiar, damp, face huddled away in an otherwise empty corner.

“Hello,” Prince Stefan greeted cheerily, despite the fact that he looked like he’d been drowned.

“…hello,” you returned, trying not to stare too pointedly at the ever-growing puddle beneath his boots. “I didn’t realize you were staying in the castle too.”

“I’m technically a ‘special guest,’” he said, flapping his hand about lacklusterly. “Royalty, and all. So I was offered a suite here when I arrived.”

You frowned, perplexed. “Then why are you sitting in the hallway?”

“I was dripping all over the carpet,” he explained, a bit less cheerfully now. “And the bed. And, well, everything.”

“You could just change,” you sighed and moved to hand him one of the enchanted towels from your stack.

But the moment the fabric swayed into his little, personal, bubble, it darkened under an invisible spray of water and was immediately soaked through and cold. You could feel the icy slush running down your fingers to drip along the stone floor. Your eyebrows shot up your forehead and Stefan shrugged.

“See my problem?”

“Wow,” you whistled, low. This wasn’t just your average, everyday pettiness. This was advanced pettiness. At least he wasn’t frozen to the floor or something, you mused unhelpfully.

“It’s at least a little bit my fault,” he grinned, wry, and reached out to tweak one of the curling, dark, bits of thorns that you hadn’t quite managed to detangle from your hair. A drop of water fell from his finger to plunk against the tip of your nose. “Have you ever heard the story of the Sleeping Princess?” he asked and you blinked owlishly, thrown by the sudden shift in topic.

“Not since I’ve been here,” you told him honestly. Most of the fairytales from your youth back in Generic-Non-Magical-Origin-World had a, uh, slightly different tone than the one’s you’d been treated to here. And you weren’t sure just how far the hero worship of characters you’d only ever known as villains extended beyond the hallowed halls of Night Raven. “But I know the gist of it.”

“There’s all different versions out there at this point,” Stefan hummed. “And I don’t think anyone really knows how much of it is real or how much has just changed over time. But the point being…” he huffed, brow pinching a bit. “One part that stays the same no matter who’s telling it is that, at the end, the Prince and the Dragon always fight each other without fail. Sometimes the Prince wins, and a lot of times the Dragon just swallows him whole. But either way, they always fight.”

He let out a great, big, gust of a sigh and his head fell back to rest against the wall with a soft thump.

“A lot of people say that my family is descended from that Prince—from a long line of dragon slayers, and heroes. And even more people look at the Thorn Fairy, and then at the Draconia line and all their horns, and scales, and whatever… I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s not that hard to put two-and-two together, and that two-and-two adds up to ‘oh wow, our families are just destined to hate each other, aren’t they?’” he bemoaned.

“I mean,” you frowned, “it’s not like you’re actually here to try and duke it out with Malleus or anything, right? You guys don’t have to fight each other,” you said, firm. “This is real life, not a story. You can make your own choices about how you’d like to treat each other.”

“I know that,” he grumbled, dejected. “It’s just—I know that it’s taken a really long time for our Houses to be on even semi-decent terms with one another, and…” He groaned and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes. “And now I might have gone and wrecked all of that. And I’m probably going to wind up getting eaten by a dragon. And even if I live through all of that, my mother’s still going to kill me, because I wasn’t even supposed to be here to begin with! Great. What a day.”

You patted his shoulder sympathetically.

“If it helps,” you reassured, “I don’t think Tsunotarou would actually eat you.”

“Maybe,” he mused, expression scrunching in thought. “I’d probably taste terrible. It wouldn’t be worth picking me out of his teeth…” He paused, that contemplative look still tugging at his face. And then his hazel eyes shot open wide and he swiveled on you with his jaw nearly hanging off his face. “Tsunotarou?!”

“Uh,” you said, like a perfectly well-spoken and intelligent human being.

The stern line of Stefan’s mouth wobbled and then he burst out into raucous laughter. His shaking shoulders splattered droplets of rainwater all over the wall, the floor, you. After taking a long moment to nearly giggle himself into an early grave, he rose back his full height and wiped at his eyes.

“Man,” he chuckled into his palm, “I really know how to pick ‘em, huh?”

“Huh?” you echoed back, confused, and he reached out to jovially pat you on the back.

“Ignore me! But, anyways. Why don’t I escort you back to your Horned Prince now, hmm?” he offered, something bright and amused dancing in his eyes. “I bet no one’s showed you where to find the Royal Chambers, or any of the rooms they use for private audiences and stuff like that. If those bells earlier were anything to go by, that’s where he’ll be.”

.

.

Malleus was slipping out from behind a set of heavy, black, double doors just as you approached. The puckered pout on his face had relaxed into an expression that wasn’t quite solemn, but certainly quiet—thoughtful. At the very least, there wasn’t a literal storm cloud brewing over his head anymore, so you assumed he hadn’t been chewed out too terribly.

He looked up as you made your way down the hall, and the fae’s neon glare locked onto Stefan with all the subtly of a fighter jet. But he didn’t snarl or curse the two of you out of existence, so that was a good sign at least. There was only the faintest stirring of a rumble somewhere distant, and it settled back into silence quickly enough.

“Briar Prince,” Stefan called, before Malleus could speak up. The brunette ducked forward into a gentle bow, hand raised politely to his chest. “It’s good to see you’re feeling yourself again. I thought I’d do you the kindness of returning your friend to you—I know that castle halls can be tricky to navigate without a bit of assistance.”

Malleus hummed low in his throat, the skin around his eyes drawn tight with obvious suspicion. A thick, wet, trickle of rain dripped from Stefan’s fringe to plop loudly against the floor. He straightened, that familiar, bright, smile dancing across his mouth.

“And I apologize if I caused you any offense,” Stefan continued, genuine warmth suffusing the sentiment. “I can assure you, it wasn’t done with any malicious intent.”

“…Your apologies are appreciated but not entirely warranted,” Malleus responded stiffly after a moment. There was a bit of a grumpy slouch to him, like a child being forced to apologize in front of the class for pushing another kid around at recess. “I have been dutifully informed that if I expect others to meet my own expectations of a situation, then I must be more forthright about those intentions to begin with. And moreover, my reaction may have been a bit… severe.”

A driblet of wet slush fell from Stefan’s coat with an impossibly heavy splat.

“Water under the bridge,” he laughed merrily. The Prince watched, expectantly, like he was waiting for the moment that the pun would sink in. But Malleus merely blinked back at him, reptilian and slow. His smile drooped a bit before he shook himself back into joviality. “Anyways, I should go and try to dry off again. Before I ruin any more of your upholstery.”

“Do indeed,” Malleus droned. Something small and smoky sparked across his fingers almost faster than you could see, before vanishing just as quickly.

The dragon fae’s stiff-lipped glower followed Prince Stefan until he had rounded the corner and disappeared from sight—the brunette looking perhaps just a bit less drowned than he had before.

“Well,” you hummed after a minute or two of awkward silence, rocking back and forth on your heels. “If that’s all sorted, it’s still technically the Festival, isn’t it? What should we do? I’m yours for the evening.”

Malleus rested his knuckles against his chin, and looked to be deep in thought—like you’d asked him to explain the meaning of life and not just if he wanted to wander around with you looking at vendor stalls. He stood and pondered for so long that you started to grow antsy, hands twisting at your sides. You were just about to interrupt his meandering thoughts to tell him not to worry about it when his eyes slipped back open and drifted down the smooth, black, leather covering his palm. You weren’t sure what he was seeing there exactly that was so riveting, but there was a bit of a stain there—brushing up along the otherwise pristine glove and stretching just to the edges of his wrist. His brow pinched and he frowned.

“Come,” he said finally, with no other indications as to what the fuck could possibly be swirling around in his head, and offered you his arm.

You took it dutifully and followed him through the cavernous halls of his castle. It was quiet, peaceful, and you tried not to openly gape like an uncultured plebian at the endless stretches of ancient artworks, and weapons, and architecture.

“Do you recall the birthday cards I mentioned that my Grandmother has delivered to me each year?” Malleus asked as you came to a stop by a small enclave, at the end of which stood a thin, glass-framed, doorway—like something you might see in a greenhouse.

You nodded. “You said she sends you seeds with them. Roses?”

He hummed, a tiny smile quirking his lips. “Precisely.”

The fae Prince pushed open the opalescent door and your jaw nearly fell to the floor.

You’d witnessed your fair share of magical marvels at this point, but the Rose Garden beyond that threshold was a wonder that took your breath away. You could call it overgrown, but that would be an understatement—not to mention imply a level of neglect that was entirely erroneous. Each bush was flawlessly groomed and tended to, sprouting higher and wider than you were tall. The entire garden was full to bursting. An endless sea of flowers crowded the grounds, the stone walls. They crawled up dozens of intricate, black, arches and curled along the edges of neatly swept paths. It made Heartslabyul’s grandiose maze look like a mowed lawn.

“Commonfolk are always so bizarrely intrigued by the notion of creating ties to their rulers. Holidays, parties, festivals…” Malleus mused as he led you through the blooms. “My Grandmother thought it would be fitting—if there was an aspect of myself that ought to be celebrated by the masses, it may as well be my roses.” His lips curved into a pointed smirk. “I’ve been told it’s one of my more palatable interests.”

“This is amazing,” you finally managed to blubber out—terrified to touch and accidentally maim any of the crimson petals, but also desperate to reach out and try. They looked so invitingly delicate.

“I’m glad you like it,” Malleus smiled. “I do miss it terribly when we’re at school. I’ve been eager to show it to you.” He paused at the heart of the garden and glanced around with a stern sort of determination. “Each year I choose the loveliest of them to preserve—a bit of a tradition with the Festival.” His lips ticked down at the corners. “Unfortunately, the rose I selected earlier seems to… not have been long for this world.”

“Oh,” you mumbled, thinking back to the singed curtains and sea of ash climbing the foyer wall. And then—“Wait. Are you telling me that those preparations—the eight hours you were gone—you were just picking a flower?”

His mouth twisted into a pout. “There are a lot to choose from. Often the process takes days, but I was trying to hurry for your sake. I know that I don’t have as much time to spend with you as I would often like, and I would prefer to waste as little of it as I can.”

You opened your mouth to respond (with what, who even knew) and closed it again. Something warm and bubbly worked its way through your stomach and along your cheeks.

“…okay,” you squeaked after a moment, and then cleared your throat. Your ears were burning. “So you just—you need to pick another one then, right?”

“Yes,” he nodded. “And I was hoping you might assist me.”

“You said you preserve the roses you choose,” you said after a quiet moment, fighting the urge to fidget with your fingers. “Like, forever? Forever, forever?”

“As long as forever can be, I suppose,” Malleus hummed, looking entirely unbothered by the weighty concept of eternity.

“Oh,” you murmured, reaching out to trail a careful finger along one of the immaculately groomed bushes. “…I mean, that’s a bit of a tall order for a human then, isn’t it? Trying to find something good enough to keep for all time.”

Malleus turned on you then with one of those rare smiles that was small and crooked—the one that never looked quite right on his face but still managed to somehow soften the sharp, reptilian, angles of his expression into something warm. He reached out towards the rose sitting beside your curious fingers and plucked it at the stem. He leaned forward slowly, gingerly, and tucked it behind your ear with a fondness the belied dozens of things left unsaid, and dozens more that you were too flustered to even begin to consider. That little smile widened until the points of his canines were just peeking out over his lip and he hummed, content.

“I’m sure you’ll manage.”

.

.

.

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[the-east-art]

Hi Thank you for coming to my TED Talk about how I dont like the Grid Method for drawing

I think most people in their life have seen the grid method for copying a piece of art - if you haven’t seen it you can probably at least get an idea of it pretty quick. The grid method for art requires you to break a piece into a series of equal squares, and then transfer those squares onto a blank piece of paper divided into the equal squares of the same ratio. Conceptually this idea is very sound - rather than biting off the entire picture, you focus on each section. Theoretically, if you can make square A1 look like square A”1, and so on and so forth, you should finish with an identical drawing to your picture. I, personally, have a strong distaste for this method. It teaches bad habits - especially to younger and newer artists. (If you are a big fan of this method please read all of my rant first or at least scroll to the end where I will reiterate some of the perceived positives of the method)

The best way to discuss this is to start with a general idea of how we go about drawing something - especially something from a reference! I will try not to riddle this rant with disclaimers, but not everyone will draw using the same or similar methods, but this is the way that I was taught and when discussing with other artists they usually follow similar ideas: When you draw you go from big to little - from general to specific. Getting too specific too early is detrimental. This is an art rant, so let’s chat about this with some pictures. 

Here I have a picture of a square and a circle. Next to it I have my blank piece of paper, and I want to draw it EXACTLY THE SAME on the paper. To do this - whether consciously or not - I will start taking mental ‘measurements’ of various aspects of this composition. How far are these objects from the edges? How much space do they take up? And I will compare these objects to each other - which object is bigger? Where do they connect - is their point of contact halfway up the square or a quarter ways up the square? In the previous questions I am specifically focused on circle in relationship to the square, so it’s worth noting that if my square isn’t placed correctly then everything else will be placed incorrectly as well. Early on in a piece you want to keep lines light, ready to be changed if need be. One of my professors used to say that you wanted to avoid falling in love and getting married to a line as long as possible, because once you fall in love with your lines you will be reluctant to change them. 

Here I have a square and a circle - although maybe these have a little more details going on in them than our previous square and circle. Now maybe this is overwhelming, but remember we want to start from general and then get specific - our process for drawing this should look much the same as our previous painting! Starting with the outline and general shape! This brooch technically isn’t a circle - it’s scalloped on the edges - but before we put that information in we want to make sure we have the placement of it correctly both on the paper and in reference to our other elements - the square. When we feel confident in those elements, we can start SLOWLY adding the other information. A lot of art is about training the eye - we’re looking between the picture and our drawing, trying to see visually what the difference is and correct it. 

Naturally, the more complicated the piece the more complicated this process becomes. If we, for instance, have a person, thats’ a lot more to deal with. We once again want to work outside first. My professor was very big on outlines and shadows first and details slowly after that - so I would likely want to work on the external form, and some lines, and then work in blocky shadows, and fine-tune it from there. Once again let’s ask ourselves what will happen if we just start with the eye - and we spend HOURS drawing the perfect eye - only to realize that it isn’t in the right place in reference to everything else. We’d either have to erase that eye and all our work, rework the entire rest of the drawing, or leave it to look offputting and wrong. When you start art you can get preoccupied with features, when in reality they should be one of the last elements you definitively put in. 

There’s one last part about this that is relevant to my dislike for the grid method, and it’s the idea that when we’re looking at a piece we find commonalities along lines to help guide our art. For instance here we can see that one eye lies horizontally on the same plane and the back of the dogs head matches with a place on the coat - these can help guide us in making sure things are looking right! The grids may help us to see these things, but not necessarily.

Okay, back to the grid method. As I’ve stated earlier the grid method can be used well and the principles behind it are good - our neat squares provide an easier visual way to do the exact same stuff we were doing earlier - how far is the object from the edges and from each other etc etc. However these squares actually can encourage the artist to focus too closely - again either a square at a time or a feature at a time. In addition they narrow the focus of the artist away from the whole - instead of seeing how everything lays on the entire page, you focus on how things are lying in that specific tiny box. Art is usually a dance of in and out - close and far. Taking a step back. The grid method discourages this. 

I say this again aware that many people are extremely successful using this method - young auteurs who draw a giant portrait hyperrealistic. Leyendecker would use a grid to make his smaller drawings bigger (although I would argue he first had an understanding of the previous methods for the intiial drawing, and used the grid more for enlargement of the previous piece). People do this method and do it well… just more people learn bad habits from it that they have to fight against to progress. 

The last thing I want to say is about how the flaw, always, with the grid method is that it has to be something that you can place a grid on - you become confined to the paper and ruler. While the earlier method was taught to be through still life drawings, measuring with a stick, it was clear that this eye training and method was versatile, and could be used for anything you placed in front of me, the grid method becomes a shackle. And I know I know I know, but other artists have found ways around such a block - the perspective frame for painting has been used by many artists over the years, including Vincent Van Gogh - places somewhere to make the process of copying the real world easier - but why let yourself be confined willingly? If you are a big grid believer I would beseech you to AT LEAST try and expand your studies in addition to the grid formula - a healthy diet of many different kind of studies and practices and eye trainings is what we do to hopefully, one day, be able to put the designs in our head down onto paper accurately. 

Additionally, using the grid method provides no room for your to be using your instincts to help. I’ve been reading through ot3’s personal philosophy of composition and I found the line in the introductions where they discuss the idea of following your instincts very important. Part of my philosophy firmly believes that people understand art ephemerally without the need of words first, and overtime the act of art is becoming more aware of the words and phrases of certain concepts, so that we gain the ability to use and manipulate them purposefully. 

Anyway there ya go! Let me know your thoughts!

[br1ghtestlight]

update:

are you thinking about the--

the famous jimmy jr tinimmy au where they reconnect when he moves back to seymour's bay?? yeah. i am

[whoisthispersonwow]

Hello people of tumblr! :)

I am not used to using this app but I thought i would give it a shot as the fandom works featured here are straight up the best things i've found on the internet, and the community seems just AMAZING on all regards!!! So I thought, yk, that I would share my ideas for this AU fic that perhaps maybe I would write sometimes...... idk....

Actor Bucky x Model Buck

Set in the 90s, this AU follows this rough outline : despite the 90s being a time of counterculture for the youth, (grunge, alternative movies being pushed forward and towards larger audiences) and being out of the 80s and all it entails (glam rock and so on) there was this paradoxally reinforced idea of masculinity (leather jackets, men having to be "strong", etc.) and lattent ideas of homosexuality being a "bad, filthy thing" in some places, interlinked with the misinformations concerning the HIV epidemic (if you're gay, you'll get AIDS, you'll die in a few months, all this stuff), which causes the Bucks have to hide their relationship from the public in fear of retaliation and backlash.

Buck is a male model, in a decade in which supermodels are emerging, and put on a pedestal : it's a decent job for him, despite not being a Claudia Schiffer or a Kate Moss (as female models, especially in that decade, were getting paid way more than male models, and overall just represented couture houses more than men did.). People know his face, he's had a few campaigns, but it's not enough to make him one of the A-list celebrities, not that he minds. He's slimmer than what is the norm for male models, but compensates it with his face : it is his strength as much as his weakness concerning bookings. He is known by his peers as this wise and generally kind man, not overly flairy as people can sometimes be in their industry, and overall very discreet about his personal life. He is extremely professional, a master of his craft that knows exactly what is expected of him at any time.

Bucky, on the other hand, is an actor. Freshly discovered among the rest of a new generation of actors, he climbs steadily and surely his way to the top, and has people from all over the USA watching his career with interest. He acts in movies which in our timeline would feel like "The Matrix" ; "Trainspotting" ; "Fight Club", and all of those sorts of very "mainstream yet still posessing their bit a flair" movies. He's extending his choices and taking more risks, ones that could perhaps lead him to great rewards (not that he is especially looking for it : Bucky would be content to act in a short movie by a middle schooler if it was done with love and passion.) Charming, bubbly, he is loved by many of teenage girls (and others, ofc :p). Everyone has a story about Bucky, be it good or bad. "Oh yeah, he bought me a car when mine broke down" says a make-up artist on a set. "He got so drunk he forgot I was here and punched me square in the face when i got up to pee" says his friend Curt Biddick.

(i made an ugly ass moodboard for the vibes)

-> now i'm gonna dump random infos for no particular reasons

TW : mentions of drugs, alcohol, homophobic cliches.

-They met at a party/gala of some sort for a brand, for which Buck modeled and Bucky was ambassador : it didn't click right away, but closely enough for it to feel like fate played a part in it.

-Buck is kind of excluded during parties as he's fully sober, whether it's from drugs or alcohol : a rarity, in the modeling world, and often not a welcome one.

-Bucky on the other hand, is a bit too much of a party monster : he drinks a lot, perhaps snorts a little cocaine in the bathroom, takes a little speed... Which GREATLY concerns Buck.

-Bucky is as cocky in his confidence and his career as he fears (and represses A LOT) the possibility of everything tumbling down and just going back to being nobody (THIS MAN NEEDS TO BE LOVED BY EVERYONE)

-He's terrified that fame will change him, that he will become a parody version of himself, that people will only know and like the version of himself he presents them and nothing else, not seeing his worth as a person, as an individual of flesh and feelings.

-Between the two of them, he's the one who desperately wants to tell the general audience about their relationship, not caring about the consequences, because in his eyes, love is love, and there sure as hell ain't nothing wrong with loving Gale Cleven, and people should know that he loves him, that they love each other, that they're a pair, that life only ever feels complete when they stand side by side, hanging in each other's orbits. They sometimes argue over this.

-Buck, on the other hand, wishes for their relationship to stay a secret, as he fears if it was to be known, it would taint Bucky's image, this very manly, confident and suave man, mingle it with dumb cliches (in a gay couple one is a "Folle" and the other has to be effeminate, because they're like GIRLS yk) and that it would basically ruin his career, tarnish his talent and hard work, get him blacklisted from most studios/directors and only perhaps offered type-casted roles in homophobic movies written by straight men. Buck could not stand seeing the love of his life being disgraced in the public's eyes, just because of some dumbass cliches, because of his love for him.

-Marjorie (Marge) covers for Buck. She's his front : They are seen dining together and huddling on benches by paparazzis, giggling and talking as they walk in the street, and that's enough. Their story makes people dream, these two young people who grew up together and fell in love, still a couple until this day, still loving each other as much as they did on the first day... They are a lavender couple (when both member of a relationship are queer, and use their couple to cover any suspicions) which helps making Buck and Bucky seem like just buddies. Marjorie is most likely not famous, or if so, she'd be more of a writer than anything else.

-Bucky is EXTREMELY jealous and FUMES whenever he cannot kiss Buck in public, touch him, do his little Bucky things, make Buck feel his. Despite that, he's sort of reckless and allows himself gestures that would not fly were the two men not viewed as pinacle of masculinity and a great example of brotherly love. Buck can't even bring himself to ressent him for it, and does not hold it against him : he too wishes they could hold hands on red carpets.

-Bucky is basically a disaster waiting to happen at some point, a pressure cooker dangerously whistling : he bottles everything he feels, just grits his teeth and says he's fine when dark times arise, drowns himself in alcohol and wishes to forget about his worries, thinks about simpler times when he had none at all. Gale stays by his side, no matter what, no matter his terrifying relationship with alcohol and the memories of his father.

-They live together, despite the risks : Buck couldn't bear having to say no to Bucky when he bought their appartment with a huge check from the royalties he earned over his first blockbuster. It is approprietly cozy : most of the decorum is Buck's doing, but Bucky's things still find their ways in there ; baseball posters, pictures, awards and silly little drawings on stick-it notes... It feels like home, to both of them.

-They probably have bought some sort of ranch or farm, somewhere, to run away from the city when things get crazy : they bask reverently in the fact that there, nothing they do or say matters, watching the sunsets on their patios, enjoying the melody of nature without any civilization.

That's pretty much it for now, I'll most likely add things later! :D I'm begging you to excuse any mistake I made, i'm just a poor French person trying her best. Don't hesitate to tell me how you feel and stuff, I am so nervous to make this post you can't imagine lmaoo

To end things, I guess I'll just post an extract of a wip, a written transcription of a fake interview Bucky probably had on some talk show!!! :]

[yuri-is-online]

Jade would be VERY pleased about finally having another club member. I would be happy to listen to him info dump while we look at mushrooms and neat nature stuff.

I let this sit in my ask box for too long but I've had this idea kicking around in my head for a while and then harveston had to go and drop that one line validating my delusions and you've given me an excuse to post it ha

notes: they/them used for Yuu, violence against animals (a bear), swearing at animals (the same bear), Yuu is unnaturally strong (enough to fight a bear), Yuu is implied to have grown up in a forest/woodsy environment, Jade typical blackmail. Other more serious fic can be found on my masterlist here.

Once upon a time, back when you first arrived in this world, you had been unsure how to feel about NRC. Castles existed back home, sure, but ones like this belonged firmly in illustrations or video games; it felt a but nauseating to walk through your wildest dreams brought to life, even if it was exciting sometimes. It was little wonder to you then that the idea of a Mountain Lover's Club was so appealing.

"Did you hike a lot back home?" Trey has that strange smile on his face that suggests you have made him tense somehow.

"Yes. I practically grew up in the woods." The flow of wind through the branches, the smell of fresh rain on the decomposing earth below, all of it wrapped you in a familiar sense of serenity even if the tree line was completely foreign to you. What are men to rocks and mountains after all? You could make yourself right at home here-

"I still don't think you should join." Trey says with all the air of a man who is certainly not telling you something, but the surprising harsh nod of agreement Riddle gives before injecting himself into the conversation convinces you more than whatever Trey had in mind likely could.

"I'm not entirely certain what they do," Riddle has never forbid you from participating in things since you and his dorm-mates brought him back to his senses," but if you want to hike it might be safer if you did it by yourself, assuming you let one of us know when you are going and when you expect to be back. It wouldn't do to have something that brings you so much joy used against you prefect, none of us want that." But he has always expressed concern when he thinks things to be unsafe, and in this case his argument was something you found yourself agreeing with. Hiking is best done at your own pace anyway, why get a club full of self-centered assholes involved in your me time? Though you did wish now they had been a bit more... specific with their concerns. Maybe outlined some of the club's scheduling, but then they would have needed to ask him and in so doing betrayed your interest.

Which would have been much less embarrassing than how Jade actually found out. Because of course he did, was there ever any doubt he would? ~~~~ There is a creek not far up the mountain path behind your dorm you like to rest at when coming back from your adventures. It's a good place to check over the photos on your camera and enjoy the last few rays of sunlight before returning to whatever mess Grim had made in Ramshackle searching for where you had moved all the tuna cans. Sometimes he joined you, and the two of you would have a little picnic up the path a bit further, but that day had not been one of those days. Nor had the day you met this particular nemesis who is staring you down from just across the creek with such a judgmental glance you would think this was a Sunday brunch and not an afternoon meander through the forest.

"The fuck do you want bitch?" You snarl and the bear indignantly sniffs as if to imply she's better than you. "Oh I'm sorry I didn't realize it was my fault your face is so fucking crooked, thought you were just born that way." She huffs again, making a big show of turning her back on you as you rush to get your equipment off and tucked safely out of reach before the skankiest grizzly you've ever met whips around and charges you shrieking something about "how dare you steal her man!!!!" and blah blah blah "I'll show you, you good for nothing hussy!!!!" as if you could actually understand her and this wasn't a three act play you insisted on writing yourself. You weren't even sure this bear was a girl if you stopped to think about it in between punches, not that you really cared. She huffs and makes a valiant attempt to pin you as you snarl and flash your teeth and beat her right back into the creek laughing at what sounds like pathetic winging about "kids these days!!!" and how rude you are for-

A startled noise pauses your match, as you both turn, harsh glares towards a break in the thicket where a very out of place, very surprised looking man stands, hand infuriatingly poised casually at his chin. His infuriating smirk doesn't unfurl until you growl, deep and low reverberating through your opponent just enough that she decides to leave for the day while you are preoccupied.

"Oya, this is a surprise." Jade doesn't move and you stay firm in the creek, body shaking with unspent adrenaline as he decides to move just a bit closer. "If you were that desperate for a sparring partner, I'm sure Floyd would have obliged, animal abuse is not exactly legal you know?"

"What the fuck are you doing here." You spit before you exit the creek, a flash of something darting through Jade's eyes as his gaze darts between you and your pack on the ground.

"Me? I should be asking that of you. The Mountain Lover's Club had to go through quite an ordeal to get permission to leave the school grounds unsupervised..." His teeth begin to show as you crash down from your high, you hadn't actually thought of whether or not you would need to talk to someone other than a friend about where you were going... surely Riddle would have mentioned something if you did? Or did he not think to ask since he wasn't the adventurous sort? "I can't imagine how the Headmage would react to know his ward had been sneaking out to terrorize the local wildlife."

"Hey Brenda started it!" You snap and Jade looks briefly towards the treeline where a very indignant bear is pursing her lips and inspecting her claws, the very picture of innocence if he does say so himself. "She stole my sandwich while I was taking pictures of the sunset!"

"Maybe you should have had someone there to hold it for you." He laughs, finally moving from his spot towards you and your pack, eyes gleaming with familiarity as he looks over your things. "Perhaps, someone who would be willing to... forget about what he just saw if they accompanied him next time?" It's a threat using what gives you joy against you certainly, and you huff indignantly at it but don't deny his request. Jade is an eel of his word, and his joy at doubling the Mountain Lover's Club membership cannot be contained as he ushers you the rest of the way down the mountain, eager to plan your first expedition together.

Not that he intends to ever delete the pictures he took. Your angry face is just too cute.

[lyonnerileyauthor]

hitting your writing goals

I've been getting a lot of asks lately about how I write, so I wanted to put it all in one post.

this was my writing history for Five Gifts for the Blacksmith's Wife.

it helps IMMENSELY when I go into a book with a Tumblr short to use as my outline. it gives me a sense of the mood, the characters, the central conflict, everything I need.

I rarely use outlines because most of the time, I have that base to work with. the other thing I do is WRITE A BLURB. write out what it would sound like if you were pitching someone your book.

here's the blurb for Five Gifts:

When her village faces a winter of starvation, Sita draws the shortest straw. Now she’s to be given to the orcs across the river in exchange for food and supplies so her family can survive. Given the chance to choose her own husband from among the eligible orc bachelors, she selects Gurrek, the reluctant blacksmith, who clearly doesn’t want her. He’s the safest option. Gurrek has always wanted a wife of his own, but not like this. Now he’s saddled with a human woman who needs new shoes, new clothes, and can’t even speak his language. He wants nothing to do with her, and yet her sweet, strong personality draws him in closer with every passing day. As Sita and Gurrek try to find a place to fit within each other’s lives, attraction begins to bloom between them. But Gurrek refuses to touch a woman who never wanted to be his in the first place. Can Sita break through the blacksmith’s high walls to become his true wife, mind, body, and soul?

boom! you know where it starts, what the central conflict is, and the question leading into the second half of the book. then I usually have a separate doc called "third act" where I work out what the climax and resolution will look like. this is sometimes when I'll write another little short to capture the tone and vibe of the climax.

okay so the writing part.

you can't wait for your muse to come to you. the more you wait, the less she visits. you have to go out there and chase that bitch down.

I show up almost every day to write. (I do take off days, usually to do admin or make videos.) I just eke out what words I can, even if it sucks ass. eventually, if you really just muscle it, let yourself get EXCITED about the characters and the story you want to tell, the words will start coming. but you can't do it if you don't show up.

I've also trained my brain in some very specific ways. making coffee is my "start" button. when I make coffee and sit down at the desk, I've trained my brain to say "okay writing time." I always make the coffee, then open the doc and write. no exceptions. it took a while to build the habit but now it's like pavlovian. sit down with coffee, write book. I've also adapted this to having a bubbly water or tea at night.

rolling the ball downhill

the goal is to get the ball rolling so the book starts writing itself. you know that feeling, the ZONE, where you know what's going to happen and it just streams out of you.

I use something I call the but-therefore method. stg learned it from a video by the South Park guys.

if you're reading your outline aloud to yourself and you say, "and then this happens," I often find myself running into that and being like "but what?"

every step in the outline should be a but or a therefore. the blacksmith wants a wife, but not this one (a human wife). therefore, he's mean to her because he wanted an orc wife. but, he finds himself growing fond of her because she tries so hard. therefore, he wants to court her. etc etc

this gets me out of all KINDS of pickles. when I run into a roadblock I just try to think of 1) what could get in the way of where they're headed or what they want, 2) what consequences it could have. good time to think about what your character's buttons are and what would push them.

setting goals

goals really help me push through when it's hard. I know it CAN be easy so it's like, how do I find the stream that I can get swept off in? you gotta hunt and hunt around for it sometimes and there are days when I never get into the zone.

I set a range for my daily goal, like 2500-5000. if I do 2500, that's fine, I can set it aside for the day. if I do 5000, keep pushing if I want but that's a good place to stop. I find that by 2000 words is when I know whether it's going to be a good writing day or a bad writing day. bad writing day, i can stop at 2500 and be happy. good writing day (especially toward the end of a book when the dominoes are falling over) I can get up to 8k, but I try not to do that anymore because it turns my brain to mush.

ok that's all for now I hope this was helpful :)

[mikkeneko]

What we miss when we don't talk about friendship (in MDZS)

I'd like to open with the statement that this is not about shipping -- none of my thesis is to say "don't ship this" or "this ship isn't real." People can and have shipped whatever the hell they want and should continue to do so for as long as it makes you happy. It's not even a question of "sure you can ship it but it's not CANON," because the MXTX canon is wonderfully good at being ambiguous and supporting multiple interpretations.

What this thesis is to say is that some of these themes and motifs to explore are about friendship, and they don't tend to get talked about much, because people are mostly focused on the romantic and sexual dimensions of a dynamic. Romantic and sexual dimensions are great, but they don't annihilate or even subsume platonic dimensions -- yes, sometimes you can be a lover and a friend, but sometimes you can just be a friend and not a lover and that's no less important. As a post I saw recently said which stuck with me -- don't remember the poster, alas, but it was something in the vein of -- "it's not about the intensity of the relationship, but the flavor of it." Platonic character dynamics can be just as obsessive and consuming as romantic dynamics, they can be discussed and analyzed separately without needing to invalidate romantic and sexual dynamics.

So! That disclaimer aside, let's talk about: FRIENDSHIP IN MDZS, and what we miss when we don't talk about friendship as a dynamic in this story separate from romantic and sexual interest. Friendship shows up repeatedly in this story with its own sub-plots and arcs and undercurrents and hazards separate from the romance that's going on, and it's mostly going on with the Lans.

Part 1: Lan Xichen and friendship

A cornerstone of this analysis has to do with a meta post I read very early on in the fandom about the Lans when viewed through a Confucian lens. Lan Qiren in particular is a very, very Confucian character, and he raised his nephews to those traditions and values. The pertinent one here is the topic of the "Five relationships" which outline the relationships that a man of authority can expect to have throughout his lifetime: self to ancestors, self to descendents, self to authorities and subordinates, self to marriage partners, and self to friends. Each one comes with a set of strictures and requirements which when added up combine to a world that is very, very emotionally taxing and extremely short on interpersonal and emotional support. He is expected to obey and submit to guidance from his seniors, but he can't ask them for help. He is expected to lead and govern his subjects, but he can never be wrong or show weakness or doubt. It's especially important, I think, that Lan Xichen is raised to expect that even any romantic relationship he might have (read: marriage to a woman) would not actually be emotionally supportive to him in any meaningful way; it would be another set of obligations to uphold, another place he would be expected to be remote and poised and never show weakness or ask for help.

The exception is friendship. Friendship is the only relationship structure Lan Xichen can have in his life that has any hope of actually being nurturing and emotionally supporting to him, a place he can let down his guard and ask for help with the expectation of receiving it. It becomes very clear from very early on that friendship means everything to Lan Xichen as a character. He enters the story with a strong, supportive friendship with one of the only true peers a man of station can have (Nie Mingjue) and it's clear that this has formatively set his expectation of what a friendship can and should be. Lan Xichen really wants to be the Friendship Is Magic guy. He believes that friendship is the best way to solve problems, and that everybody would be able to solve their problems if only they had a friendship like his, and that belief is a lot of what runs him into a meat grinder later in the story. He thinks that Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao are capable of maintaining a friendship post-war, and does not understand why they cannot, and his attempts to friend-matchmake the two of them ultimately lead both to disaster.

Part 2: Lan Wangji and friendship

The header says Lan Wangji, but this is actually about Lan Xichen again, and about Wei Wuxian. A pretty common joke in the fandom is that Lan Xichen is "the #1 WangXian shipper," that he recognizes Lan Wangji's sexual and romantic attraction to Wei Wuxian from very early on and supports him in pursuing such a relationship. It's a nice joke, but I think it misses the mark, because the looming specter of their parents' disastrous and traumatic marriage means that Lan Xichen would never approach the idea of his brother entering into a romantic relationship so cavalierly. (Lan Qiren, in some ways, had a clearer notion of what shape Lan Wangji's interest in Wei Wuxian had the potential to be than Lan Xichen did, perhaps because he doesn't have the same obsession with friendship; if he has any close friendships of his own, we're not shown them.)

Lan Xichen is not encouraging Lan Wangji to have a romantic summer fling. Lan Xichen encourages his association with Wei Wuxian specifically because he thinks Lan Wangji needs friends. Not just in the sense of any parent or adult wanting their child to make friends, but specifically in the context of these restrictive hierarchical relationships that hem in their world. Lan Xichen is afraid that Lan Wangji will be alone, and emotionally starved, and have no one he can ask for help or rely on, because that is his experience of a world without friendship. (Lan Wangji, of course, is not in the same position as Lan Xichen because he has Lan Xichen to rely on.) Lan Xichen wants Lan Wangji to have the same kind of friendship that he himself has with Nie Mingjue, and he thinks that Wei Wuxian has the potential to be that kind of friend. That is the context in which he encourages their association, and tries to arrange for them to have time together, and to become closer; not as a potential romantic partner but as a steadfast emotional and logistical support through Lan Wangji's adult life.

If Lan Xichen knew that Lan Wangji would fall in love with Wei Wuxian (had already started to,) I'm not at all sure that he would have encouraged that. In pretty much any arc past the Lan Lectures, he doesn't, both because Wei Wuxian stopped being a good candidate for supportive friendship (he's clearly got too much of his own shit going on) and because he realizes that what is developing in Lan Wangji bears very little resemblence to his own relationships. He might not outright try to sabotage the relationship but he's clearly worried about its potential to bring disaster on Wangji -- and he's very correct to be worried, as it turns out.

Part 3: Lan Sizhui and friendship

So, All Of That Happens; Wei Wuxian dies, Lan Wangji is laid low for years and seems poised to grieve for the rest of his life; Nie Mingjue dies and takes Lan Xichen's support with him. Now we come to the present day, and the present day has Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi.

Let's take a moment to step back and ask from an analytical perspective: Why is Lan Jingyi, as a character, in the story? Assuming that in a novel as polished as MDZS, each element is included for good reasons. Why is Lan Jingyi in the story and why is he Lan Sizhui's best friend? In the new world we're introduced to, the Lan are already represented, and very positively represented by Lan Sizhui. Lan Jingyi provides a convenient avenue for both exposition-dumping and sass -- saying the things that everyone else is too polite to say -- but we could have gotten that through another character (Jin Ling also plays this role) or introduced another Junior who isn't Lan, like Ouyang Zizhen. Why is it important to the story that Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi are friends?

The Juniors in general represent hope for the world to change, hope for the new generation. In Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi, we see that the terrible loneliness that drove their seniors to disaster in the previous generation, is averted. Lan Sizhui and Lan Jingyi have a friendship that is close and true, and we are never given reason to doubt it. Their priorities are aligned; it's unlikely that Sect politics or personality conflicts will ever drive them apart. They have what Lan Xichen craved: a friendship that will support them through tragedy and disaster. Their friendship stands to demonstrate that in the new generation, things will get better.

[dsireland86]

The Best Kind of Danger: Chapter 1

The way her body moved made him weak in the knees. He watched her when she wasn't looking; studied her body, her curves, and outlined every part about her that he loved before turning away as soon as she would catch him staring. She was the sweetness that his soul needed, the very essence of kindness and beauty, and the way she carried herself was unlike anything he'd ever seen in a woman before. She was intoxicating, beautiful, and passionate, but of everything she was, there was just one thing she wasn't. His.

"Holy fuck, dude if you say one more word about the stupid box of pens, Nicholas, I'm going to lose it! It's been two whole days and all I've heard since the last show we played back in Michigan, has been about a fucking box of pens. I don't know where they are!" 

Folio threw himself down on the couch in the makeshift kitchen area of the bus, rubbing his hands down his face. A gentle hand slithered its way up his back and rested on his shoulder. 

"Easy, Folio, he didn't mean anything by it," Cassie said scooting forward and resting her chin on his shoulder. Folio took a deep breath at the feeling of her hand on him and her body so close. It was just the thing he needed at the moment, and she knew it. 

"I know," he nodded, looking over his shoulder at her and smiling. Cassie returned the smile and gently caressed his back before getting up. 

"I'm going to help Nicholas look for those pens."

"Thank you!" Matt shouted, walking past her, toward the driver's compartment of the bus. "I'm so close to throwing him out."

Cassie chuckled, taking Folio's hand he held out to her.

"You won't do that, and you know it; shit Nicholas even knows it. That's why he's still bitching." 

Noah stood up and removed his earbuds only to grab a bottle of water from the fridge as Matt continued to scowl. Cassie planted her attention, avoiding the spat that was about to happen between Matt and Noah, on Folio as he rubbed circles over the back of her hand with his calloused thumb. His touch sent shivers over her body, creating a longing for more. She wanted him all over her; taking, grabbing, pulling whatever it was he needed from her to satisfy him. The thoughts made Cassie's core clench, a strong desire instantly spreading over her, and when Folio looked up at her through his soft yet mischievous brown eyes, she could do nothing else but grin. 

But Cassie had a secret about herself that always made her pull back from getting too close to Folio. It was a secret she wasn't willing to share with him because of what it meant and if he ever found out he probably wouldn't want her anyway. She could never live with that type of rejection. So she kept her feelings for Nick to herself. No matter how bad it hurt; no matter how bad she wanted him.

 Folio often tried to work up the courage to tell Cassie how he felt about her. How he needed her to know that he was falling for her and couldn't slow down, how she made him feel alive more than anything else around him, but when he'd get her attention, he'd choke on his words and make excuses to avoid telling her the truth, always leaving him frustrated and flustered. It left him with a craving he knew only she could satisfy.

Cassie began to notice the little things. She noticed Nick's stares and the way he lingered a little longer around her, even though he had a lot of work to do before and after the shows. She noticed how her body reacted and betrayed her hard resistance every time she saw him. But most of all she noticed his smile and that it was always the widest when he looked at her or teased her when messing around for fun. Folio had her heart and she didn't want anyone else to have it. Just Nick and only Nick.

The Tennessee air was warm, yet when the cool breeze blew in from the Great Smokey Mountains, it was enough to send chill bumps over Cassie's skin.

"You're cold. You should put my hoodie on, it'll keep you warm." 

Folio came up beside her in the green room, noticing the way Cassie was holding her arms around herself for extra warmth. She smiled at him, making his heart flutter, and thanked him. Returning with it, Folio handed over the black hoodie to her, watching as she gracefully filled one of his favorite pieces of clothing. It was a little big on her, but the way Cassie looked in black gave Folio a dirty vision of her wearing nothing but that hoodie and what it would feel like to have his hands sliding up her thighs and over her small, perky ass that he loved looking at. He was getting hard at just the thought.

"What?" She looked up at him through narrow eyes.

"What?" He asked, licking his lips and then taking the top one in between his teeth. 

"You're staring." Cassie lightly grinned.

"Am I?"

"Yeah just a little," she said softly. 

Nick moved in closer, filling Cassie's personal space, and letting his eyes wander over her, soaking in her features as the scent of flowers protruded from beneath his hoodie.

"Well, you're making it a little hard not to." His eyes met hers and he saw the surprise in them. 

"What? You don't think so?"

Cassie shook her head. "You know what I think about myself, Nick, so let's not go there." Her eyes drifted away from Folio's, looking elsewhere other than him. 

"Yeah I know, and I hate that you think about yourself that way," he sighed, fixing his inear piece.  

Cassie shrugged her shoulders. "It is what it is."

"It doesn't have to be," he replied giving her a look that instantly took her breath away. Was Nick hitting on her?

Folio pulled his drumsticks from his back pockets, twirling one of them between his fingers. 

"Wish me luck," he said, still within Cassie's personal space.

A smile lit up her face, finally wiping away the sadness that was there a second ago. 

"I don't need to. You're already amazing. You'll do great; just like always."

Cassie reached over and laid her hand on Nick's bare arm, rubbing the tattoo of the virgin Mary he'd gotten years ago.

Folio leaned in and kissed her cheek, sending shockwaves of emotion throughout her entire body. He'd made her instantly wet, and she could feel herself blushing as the emotions ran straight down into her sex. It was a feeling she'd never felt before and it made her clench her thighs together. Nick ran off toward the stage before Cassie could even react, but he turned back around and gave her a wink and that goofy smile of his that always made her laugh. Reaching up to her cheek, she placed her fingertips over the spot where Nick had laid his lips and grinned, embracing the schoolgirl feeling it gave her.

It was clear to Cassie that something serious was happening between her Folio, and as she stood next to Bryan, watching Nick do what he always did best, she knew, without a doubt, that she had one hundred percent fallen for him. It was dangerous, she knew it, but what had just happened between the two of them, gave her all the confidence she needed. Cassie's entire heart and soul really did belong to Nick Folio; even if he didn't know it yet. 

Chapter 2

[zara-renata]

Hello! I just wanted to say I'm absolutely OBSESSED with the sylus series. Every update you make also makes my day ❤️ if it's ok, I wanted to ask a question, and if it's something that's upcoming in the fic please feel free to disregard this part. How do you think your written MC would handle knowing about sylus knowing past versions of MC and the history there? They seem to struggle with self esteem so im wondering if the knowledge that Sylus' interest is due in part not to them as they are now would be something....hard to digest(?) Like the self sabotage would kick in "ohhhh it's not me I'm a placeholder" mentality. Sorry if that doesn't make much sense 😥

Hello to you too! Thank you so much for this kind message! I'm really glad you're enjoying the fic, and it's amazing to hear that it's enough to make your day. I am enjoying writing it so much, but I still feel a lot of anxiety posting when I've finished something new. I haven't really written for fandom with any kind of consistency for a long time, and even back when I started, it was sporadic. I'm trying very hard to not worry about how well it will be received and to just try to enjoy the inspiration I currently have with the LADS universe and Sylus in particular, but messages like this are always so welcome and appreciated. As for your question, I'm going to put it under the cut because it may end up being spoilerish?? If I ever address it in this series. Thank you again so much for this kind ask!

So to preface this, I have a bunch of ideas regarding where i want this fic to go, but actually planning? and outline? i don't know her. it's basically like... i need to see sylus and mc at a fancy banquet. I need to see mc kidnapped because sylus is a crime lord. i need to see hurt/comfort in every single one of them. so I don't have a plan, and I don't know if i'll get to writing specifically about your question. but if I do! this might end up being spoilery, in which case I'm sorry for the future repetition! ok since i can't have two 'under the cuts', here's a palate cleanser if you want to stop reading.

Your question absolutely makes sense! I think it's a natural question to have, no matter your level of self esteem. We all want to know the reasons why people love us! I always feel big disappointment when this question comes up in a love story and the answer is ... "because you're you." Uuh, no buddy, I need details and receipts, please and thank you. And I also think that in a universe where past lives are real, and the person who loves you may have had feelings for a version of you from a past life, a natural question for anyone is "Does this person really love me, who I am on the inside now, or does this person love the shape of me, simply because I look and sound like the person he loved?" And for people who find it hard to accept that anyone could love them, like our mc in this series, it would take more convincing that yes, in fact, it's you, you in particular, in this life that he loves, just as he loved you in past lives, even though past you was not the same. So I can definitely see this mc going into what you describe as self-sabotage mode, and needing a shit-ton of reassurance from Sylus that this mc is enough, if not better, than past iterations of mc. Like, it's clear that Sylus's initial interest is because he knows you from the past, but you're still you. You're still a warrior, and incredibly skillful and strong- even canon mc (who i'll refer to as she since infold won't allow more options) in the game is competent, at least in battle, even if sometimes she is a bit cringe or silly because the writers seem to think that she needs to be nerfed on occasion to let the boys shine. But honestly that doesn't happen as much as I would expect based on other otome games i've played. but i digress! I definitely think a big source of angst after Sylus and the mc from this series become romantically involved would be from learning that not only had he not revealed their shared past earlier, but wrestling with the doubt you mentioned in your ask, of "Does he love me for me as I am now, or because I'm a good enough replacement?"

And Sylus's answer would be a resounding "I love you for who you are now, how could I not love someone who surprises me every day with all the emotions you carry inside you and can't hide, when I myself haven't felt much emotion in so long. how can I not love someone who despite being so hurt, is strong enough to keep trying to defend the weak, to keep fighting even when you're on the ropes. how could I not love someone who is funny and smart, and tries to fill my bedroom with plants because I miss the plants that grow everywhere but inside the n109 zone, a place I have to live in because it protects me from the sun and it's where my empire is even though I hate it."

And even further than that, because this is a comforting fantasy for me and maybe for others because we all want to think we are singularly unique for the person who loves us, even though in real life you can love more than one person in your life and all of those loves are valid, and polyamory does exist and is valid, BUT for me personally i like to think that sylus can even love this mc more than past mcs. Like i allude to in the series based on that evil villain bit he gives you about all the crimes you have committed or will commit, i have this idea that the mc he loved was a lot crueler than this mc. just based on how starved he is for touch and how he lights the fuck up if you're even a tiny bit nice to him, i think that the crumbs of affection that previous mc may have given him were enough to satisfy him because he did love that mc, even though they may have been a lot harsher. but when he meets our mc, who is already prepared to protect and care for him with everything in them despite what a dickhead he is when we first meet him, the returned affection and devotion that this mc provides for him is a feast that he almost does not know how to properly process, and he loves this mc as much, if not more, than the other mcs that he has cared for.

ok and now i'm done, i'm sorry if this is WAY more than you were looking for. In the end it would be angsty but sylus will prevail because he loves you so, so much!

[quitealotofsodapop]

[I wait with bated subscribe button.]

ask and ye shall receive. chapter three is being outlined (things be heating up, but chap. 4 is when things get spicy)

[Even though he knows the Monkey King isn't really his birth parent (glaring at Nuwa), he knew that the choice to raise MK fell on his heavy shoulders. Even if MK is a *little* upset when he finds out via S4 Memory Scroll-ing with Macaque that he's a monkey demon..] + [the memory of Wukong standing outside in the city streets, affixing a strong glamour spell to the baby's head, and sobbing as he forces himself to stop holding them long enough to disappear and make a noise that alerts the pig chef inside the shop.] + [The first thing MK does when he reunites with Wukong, is hug him tight and say "I never blamed you." Wukong is confused until the realisation that MK was in his memories kicks in, and he starts sobbing too.]

cursed scrolling is not a very nice way to figure out that you're some weird monkey thing-y made for some cryptic person by a deadbeat goddess, but it could be worse.

watching the moment Wukong actually sets him down for good is honestly heartbreaking. he's visibly fighting with himself to put the infant down and put the glamor on as he cries, and even after alerting the shopkeep of the little one on the doorstep he isn't able to keep himself from looking back hesitating and looking back as he tries to subtly flee the scene. the scene breifly shifts to show that Wukong circled back in the following days "just to make sure he chose the right home" as they scroll divers heard him telling himself, as well as "this is the last check-in, just to be sure". he said that every time.

Macaque can tell just by looking at Wukong that his instincts are screaming at him for leaving the infant, hence the constant checking to make sure the infant was safe. to see Wukong in such a disheveled state due to his instincts and hormones, possibly to the extent he was neglecting himself in favor of making sure MK was okay, is worrisome, especially knowing that he didn't have anyone to snap him out of it or help. the whole time the memory is unfolding MK wants nothing more than to go give his mentor a big hug.

he ends up giving him that hug, and thankfully too. while hopping back through some of his own deepest regrets Wukong had begun to feel even worse than he already did about a lot of things, leaving MK included. he felt really guilty, so to have MK practically tackle him into a hug and tell him it's okay? he starts ugly crying in an instant.

[He just wished he had more time to know this odd, horse-like dragon that Wukong adored as a brother.]

Wukong speaks very highly of him, and DBK is honestly glad that it seems his Xiandi had someone to care for him. from what he'd seen of the dragon, he seemed very respectable and nice to be around, the kind of person he'd want looking out for Wukong. Wukong's always been bad at letting people go/grieving, so DBK understands entirely that Wukong needs time and that this isn't easy on him.

[This is THEIR happy ending, and Mac's not gonna let Azure take that away from them.]

THIS!

I love the idea of them choosing to reconnect, to work through things, figure out how they've changed and how they fit together now, and most importantly, choosing to come out stronger. choosing to ensure that no one and nothing comes between them like that ever again (let alone the same three assholes a second time).

[Fun fact; since Stone Eggs are able to "steal" the Dao of others, it ws common in Stone Monkey days for widowed monkeys to start the egg-making process while buried next to their mate in hopes that both of their traits lived on in the baby.]

do- do you think Wukong would ever visit Macaque's grave? not bury himself ofc, but lay there next to him? do you think he'd tell his beloved's grave about how the pregnancy was going, telling him all the things he'd wanted to tell him about his egg had things not gone so awry? do you think if Yuebie ever "kicked" he'd switch to telling her about Macaque, but in a way that made it seem like he was meditating a conversation/introducing the two? do you think Wukong told the grave that he wanted her to look like him? do you think going there ultimately did help make her look like him?

[and Jiuweihuli is treating the situation as if she's expecting a grandchild. Even when Wukong explains that Mac only "started the process", that doesn't deter the demonesses.]

she def uses grandma rights to spoil Yuebei rotten once she's born, and even before she's born considering some of the baby shower gifts she gets for the expecting monkey. she becomes a pretty substantial rock for Wukong once he gets past the whiplash of her doing anything more than tolerating him. Macaque also def goes to her for parenting/relationship advice, when he was down in the dumps about his fight with Wukong just before ep 1 of s4 he def went to her asking about "how to fix things so Wukong doesn't leave him and take the kid".

[Yuebei, aka "The God Killer" toddles into a fancy heavenly party and all the Celestials scatter like they saw a tiger enter the room. The infant monkey just jumps on the banquet table and starts chowing down on the hors d'oeuvres like her baba before her.]

those close to Wukong laugh at the familiarity of the whole scene. Wukong doesn't know whether to be proud or worried at the prospect of Yuebei growing up to be like he was in his youth.

[Yuebei and her big bro MK share the trait of "I believe, so it is",]

she got it from him.

[DBK has to be reprimanded for almost getting into a fight with Nezha over their protective instincts towards Wukong in this state.]

DBK remembers how adamant Wukong was the celestial realm doesn't learn of his unborn egg, so he sees the third lotus prince and assumes he's there for nefarious reasons. Ne Zha just wants to make sure Wukong will live through labor.

[Yuebei def stares at the tapes Guanyin provides in silence, tears rolling down her face as she sees and hears her Baba in different eras, telling his baby that they may never meet but that he loves them no matter what!! Especially if one of the things she yelled at Wukong was along the lines of; "You never do anything for me!"]

Guanyin sits there next to her, kinda side hugging her while rubbing circles into her back as Yuebei takes in everything before her. she has questions, some of which Guanyin answers, others they tell her she should ask her baba about, Yuebei pretty much makes a break for home as soon as Guanyin's done talking. Wukong was kinda teary eyed when she got back, but he tried to hide it.

[One of the rarer nicknames he had for her was "little moonlight" whenever he was particularly wistful.]

oooo Imagine Wukong puts her down for bed for bed one night and Macaque overhears him telling her "goodnight my little moonlight", how would he react??

[The subsetquent hours is Macaque fellign like sh*t for making Wukong hate him again + Yuebei crying when Mac raised his voice. He's convinced that he F-d Up Big, and that Wukong would never trust him again- oh hey a text from Mei.]

oh god, Yuebei bursting into tears is def what cuts the argument short with Wukong unwilling to continue the fight with Yuebei so upset and Macaque stunned into silence over waking her up with his yelling. the horror, guilt, shame he must have felt realizing that he did that, he scared her. not make harmad or fussy, he scared her so bad she started wailing.

he thinks it's going to put his progress with her all the way back to square one, but the situation ultimately doesn't allow that. he feels a tad bit guilty almost at how he's relieved she still trust him enough to call for him, when as soon as they enter the celestial realm to dethrone azure he hears her chirping for both Wukong and him.

as mentioned above, I think that after the fight he'd go see Jiuweihuli for advice on how to un-f up the situation, that he likely looked more like him busting through her office of the theater's door a crying mess as he sobs about "ruining everything" before she manages to calm him down enough to get a read on the situation and give him some actually reassurance/advice.

[Macaque still goes to Water Curtain Cave to see whats up... only to find no Monkey Kids, and the smell of a familar lion...]

as soon as Macaque recognizes the horridly familiar scent as Azure's he loses his mind at the implication of whats going on. Macaque was aware the brotherhood wanted Wukong... more permanently out of the picture back in the journey days, so he was also likely aware of their plot invovling the scroll of memory, and didn't mei's text say something about a scroll... ? and she said Yuebei was being "babysat"... right?...

if what he thinks is happening, is happening, it better not be, because if it is he's going to skin the damn lion.

[Wukong: *secretly watching from the doorway, falling in love with his Warrior all over again*]

something about getting to see Macaque being the parent he often told Wukong he wanted to someday be just makes the old king's weary heart melt with some form of love and joy so overwhelming it makes just wanna melt into the moment.

[Yellowtusk is the only one of the Brotherhood trio who recognises that people have changed in the last few hundred years.] + [Yellowtusk recognises that perhaps even he has changed. Being made to relive your mistakes throught the Scroll can do that.] + [Yellowtusk is Wise because he recognises that the best option is to jump this sinking ship now while there's still time.]

he is aware he has already done too much to be forgiven for by his other sworn brothers, but if not for them he'll do this for himself. he doesn't deserve to have the other two nitwits drag him down too. and if not for himself then his morals, this is not what he joined the brotherhood to fight for, and he'll stick to his principles on that even when it puts him against his two remaining brothers.

referencing this Slow Boiled au post.

[watching the moment Wukong actually sets him down for good is honestly heartbreaking. he's visibly fighting with himself to put the infant down and put the glamor on as he cries, and even after alerting the shopkeep of the little one on the doorstep he isn't able to keep himself from looking back hesitating and looking back as he tries to subtly flee the scene. the scene breifly shifts to show that Wukong circled back in the following days "just to make sure he chose the right home" as they scroll divers heard him telling himself, as well as "this is the last check-in, just to be sure". he said that every time.]

oh gosh. THIS

the whole scene is silent save for the sounds of rain, baby MK crying, and Wukong softly shushing him with monkey noises and "I know, I know." Placing the baby down on the storefront and visibly hesistating to make the sound that alerts Pigsy inside.

And Wukong is a mess at this point. Like even more so than when MK met him in "A Hero is Born". He's visibly exhausted and unkempt, looking like he's barely holding it together. Macaque can tell in an instant that his Peaches was in a critical mental and physical at the time.

As MK and Mac see this scene end (shadow monkey trying not to cry too), it cuts to multiple times throughout MK's childhood (ala Leela in Futurama) where Wukong watched over him. Either as a bird, a butterfly, a ladybug, anything that wasn't too strenuous on the de-powered monkey. And MK can just *see* how much his "birth mother" still loved him after all.

[he ends up giving him that hug, and thankfully too. while hopping back through some of his own deepest regrets Wukong had begun to feel even worse than he already did about a lot of things, leaving MK included. he felt really guilty, so to have MK practically tackle him into a hug and tell him it's okay? he starts ugly crying in an instant.]

MK is ugly-crying too. Like full ghibli tears even before Wukong tiredly turns to greet them.

Wukong eventually tries to break the tension by commenting on Mac's own crying + the clingy subject monkeys he picked up. But Macaque just responds by softly enveloping them all in a big shadowy hug (and maybe whispering a few "im sorry"s for the fight earlier).

[Wukong speaks very highly of him, and DBK is honestly glad that it seems his Xiandi had someone to care for him. from what he'd seen of the dragon, he seemed very respectable and nice to be around, the kind of person he'd want looking out for Wukong. Wukong's always been bad at letting people go/grieving, so DBK understands entirely that Wukong needs time and that this isn't easy on him.]

DBK and Ao Lie would have gotten along like a house on fire. Both are princes with a lot on thier shoulders, protective brothers, and complete sweethearts at their core. When DBK is in the Scroll, he sees how Ao Lie cared for his Xiandi during the Journey and is glad that someone truly cared for Wukong during his most vulnerable state.

[I love the idea of them choosing to reconnect, to work through things, figure out how they've changed and how they fit together now, and most importantly, choosing to come out stronger. choosing to ensure that no one and nothing comes between them like that ever again (let alone the same three assholes a second time).]

YES. The choice to fall back in love and make it work!

To learn and relearn new things about eachother despite the troubles they've had in the past! To overcomes hurdles that would have broken them before. To both come out better together. And raise a super-cute baby too.

While it wasn't nessasary, the Brotherhood incident accidentally causes th ebond between Shadowpeach to become stronger since they're literally tackling their pasts head-on.

[do- do you think Wukong would ever visit Macaque's grave? not bury himself ofc, but lay there next to him? do you think he'd tell his beloved's grave about how the pregnancy was going, telling him all the things he'd wanted to tell him about his egg had things not gone so awry? do you think if Yuebie ever "kicked" he'd switch to telling her about Macaque, but in a way that made it seem like he was meditating a conversation/introducing the two? do you think Wukong told the grave that he wanted her to look like him? do you think going there ultimately did help make her look like him?]

Depends if Mac even had one, given that it looked like his body was dragged straight down (then again Wukong could have seen that as normal given how himself got physically kidnapped into Hell the first time).

And oooohhhh the idea that Wukong yearned so much for his former mate that he desperately wanted even a "hint" of him to live in his baby. Like even incidentally. ;_;

Mac sees a memory of Wukong lying down in the "Shame Temple" (I hc as where Mac and his last fight took place hence Shame), and talking to seemingly no one... until Mac notices how Wukong seems to be talking to him??

Memory!Wukong: "What do you think little moonlight? Will you love theatre as much as he did?" *a few seconds past, Wukong reacts to a kick* "Hah! I knew it! I bet he would have taken you to your first play before you could even walk. I just hope that you don't inherit my stage fright..."

And Macaque is just trying his best to blink away tears. "Little moonlight" is what him and Wukong often call Yuebei. He didn't know that Wukong had already dubbed the little cub that long before she was even born. And he's currently grappling the fact that Wukong loved him so so much even after the battle that took Mac's life.

[she def uses grandma rights to spoil Yuebei rotten once she's born, and even before she's born considering some of the baby shower gifts she gets for the expecting monkey. she becomes a pretty substantial rock for Wukong once he gets past the whiplash of her doing anything more than tolerating him.]

The old vixen has had enough experience with rowdy twins to know how Wukong is feeling, especially in the direct aftermath of Yuebei's birth. She's the first of the honorary grandparents (sans Pigsy) to take one look at a sleep-deprived monkey couple and go "Oh no. You too are getting some rest. Let me handle the kit for a few hours."

Wukong is still a little confused why she's so kind to him after all that happened during the Journey.

Wukong: "Didn't I like, almost kill you with my staff?" Jiuweihuli, brushing it off: "That was centuries ago, love. Times change."

The vixen and her twins are far quicker to forgive than some allies in the Monkey King's past. In Jiuweihuli's mind, Wukong had been an expecting mom/dad who was trying their best to protect their family. She has done worse to protect her skulk. She does make plenty of jokes about Wukong "copying" her during the Journey tho.

She's still very critical of Macaque during this time, despite him being her fave understudy. But she's the first to hug him and give advice regarding him and Wukong's fight just pre-S4. She recognises that her honorary-kit is trying their best to make things right, and wants to be there for him throughout it all.

[DBK remembers how adamant Wukong was the celestial realm doesn't learn of his unborn egg, so he sees the third lotus prince and assumes he's there for nefarious reasons. Ne Zha just wants to make sure Wukong will live through labor.]

Theres a flurry of chaos when PIF and DBK arrive on scene after the LBD battle, since they don't know that Ne Zha knows about the Stone Egg. And Ne Zha doesn't know that the two bros have reconciled in that time since their last fight. A very quick fight occurs until Wukong, in his laborous rage, yells "KNOCK IT OFF" - stopping the battle in it's tracks.

[Guanyin sits there next to her, kinda side hugging her while rubbing circles into her back as Yuebei takes in everything before her. she has questions, some of which Guanyin answers, others they tell her she should ask her baba about,]

Guanyin is such a good grandparent figure :3 Wukong is glad that they sorta force-adopted him all those centuries ago.

[oooo Imagine Wukong puts her down for bed for bed one night and Macaque overhears him telling her "goodnight my little moonlight", how would he react??]

Macaque hears Wukong whispering to Yuebei, calling her his "little moonlight", and Mac just starts happy-crying. "Little Moonlight"? As in mini version of Wukong's "Moonlight" nickname for Mac when they were together? Wukong gets ambushed with a happy purring shadow monkey the second he exits the bedroom.

[oh god, Yuebei bursting into tears is def what cuts the argument short with Wukong unwilling to continue the fight with Yuebei so upset and Macaque stunned into silence over waking her up with his yelling. the horror, guilt, shame he must have felt realizing that he did that, he scared her. not make harmad or fussy, he scared her so bad she started wailing.]

Oh this whole squence... the Fight just before Ep 1 of S4.

The whole thing was an arguement that they really should have talked out and come to a compromise on... but relationship progress is tricky. And when voices get raised, both just shut down the second Yuebei starts crying. Macaque ofc solely blames himself for scaring the baby, since it was his voice she reacted to.

Macaque leaves his and Wukong's shared space (likely the hut on FFM, just renovated to be baby-proof), and shadow slinks his way to the theatre where he collaspes into Jiuweihuli's arms, sobbing about how "he's ruined everything again".

Then the idea of Macaque storming the throne room to get Yuebei back, no matter if he's lost all progress with her, only to hear her beautiful happy chirp! upon seeing him!? Oh he's scooping his little girl up right into his arms and kissing her fluffy head all over whispering "im sorry" for scaring her so badly.

Also being inside the Scroll of Memory and seeing how much Wukong sacrificed to ensure Yuebei's birth and MK's safety, makes Mac appreciate them all even more.

[if what he thinks is happening, is happening, it better not be, because if it is he's going to skin the damn lion.]

If Yuebei hadn't gone baby Hercules-mode on the Brotherhood, you best be sure that Macaque really would have skinned Azure for indirectly kidnapping his and Wukong's baby (the MKrew kids basically panicked and gave him Yuebei to hold while they went into the Scroll).

[something about getting to see Macaque being the parent he often told Wukong he wanted to someday be just makes the old king's weary heart melt with some form of love and joy so overwhelming it makes just wanna melt into the moment.]

Lets just say, seeing Macaque treat Yuebei (and be extension MK) as his own cubs, is something that just makes Wukong's heart soar like it did millennia ago when they'd fantasized about having a massive family post-war.

And seeing Macaque still adoring their little moonlight, even after their arguement + the situation at hand, makes Wukong adore him even more.

[he is aware he has already done too much to be forgiven for by his other sworn brothers, but if not for them he'll do this for himself. he doesn't deserve to have the other two nitwits drag him down too. and if not for himself then his morals, this is not what he joined the brotherhood to fight for, and he'll stick to his principles on that even when it puts him against his two remaining brothers.]

Yellowtusk is a smart elephant. He's willing to call up his old patron Samantabhadra and the other bodhisattvas for an assist if it means his brothers are forced to their senses. Even in canon, he's the first to recognise that Azure's hold on the throne wasn't sustainable. Combined with Peng's goading, and the kidnapping of their former brother's child, Yellowtusk is shuting down this takeover early.

Thank you for loving this Au as much as I do! It's such a fun one to play around in!

[zivazivc]

OMG🫣😝😍❤️❤️❤️ Liv's parents are sooo cool and their designs are sick!!! What are their inspiration and can you tell more about this family 🥺❤️ ?

Thank you very much! I feel like I really hit the nail on the head with their designs, but the truth is they were cooking in my head for a very long time before this.

From the first time I thought about what all the bandmates' parents would look like, I was already thinking of making Liv's parents both Techno/Rock fusions like her. I think what originally made me gravitate towards this idea is the fact that Liv is the only one in the band who has a very very strong sense of self and does not have any kind of identity crisis or self image issues. I feel like the only way to make this fact feel believable in a young character in her position is through their parents. So I gave her parents who are both similar to her and each other and who are together and loving, and who live in a society of other Rock/Techno trolls too. (Also thinking about it more, it just made sense that the "rockers" and the "ravers" would have the largest population of mixed offspring, they're also right next to each other on the map, so i came up with the Shallows and all of that because of this...)

Liv's genre at the very start was very simply just electronic rock. But as I discovered more music over the past months she became more industrial metal with punk elements. - My OCs develop a lot by me bouncing them off each other. When Hed and Liv meet, Hed's Rock/Metal instincts are very much suppressed from living almost his entire life around Funk Trolls. I needed Liv's genre (to obviously feel right for her, but also) to be hardcore enough to be able to bring out Hed's suppressed side without clashing with his love for rap.

At the moment this is the most "Hed and Liv making music together" song I have in my playlists:

Now that Liv's genre/playlist stopped changing so much and I've been happy with where I am with her for a while, I was able to determine her parents' genres based on that. Which was simply one parent being Industrial Metal and the other something electronic and punk (which I later found out is just called Electropunk lol).

Her dad Flint is heavily based on Keith Flint from the Prodigy. So heavily he is basically that guy's trollsona lol.

The Prodigy, if you don't know, were pioneers in fusing dance music with rock music. It was pretty fascinating reading about it. I recently watched this good and not-dragged-out video about their origins and till their biggest single Firestarter.

Even before I started designing any of them I knew I wanted to give one of the parents' very stylized neon "shark teeth". In my mind it felt like such a good fusion of sharp Rock teeth and the weird blocky neon Techno teeth. And when I fixated on Keith Flint for inspiration it just felt right to give them to him. Look at this guy!

I named the dad Flint simply after this guy's last name. But also it's a nice rocky name. Also flint was historically used to start fire which kind of makes it a punk name in my opinion too. Plus -> Firestarter, the big Prodigy single. :P

The mom I designed after I outlined the dad and I didn't have any particular person in mind for her. Her design is mostly Liv's characteristics that I didn't yet represent in her dad. Direct outside inspiration was more or less just these cool neon rave pants because she deserved some bright color lmao.

I gave her a German accent because I always imagined Liv with a vague European accent, and also simply because Germans seem to be the gods of industrial metal. But my music inspiration when drawing her was also Laibach, which is a Slovenian band, so I gave her the name Meta because it is both a German and Slovenian name (In German it's a short form of Margarete meaning "pearl", and in Slovenian the name literally means "mint".) Meta also just felt like a good fit to go along with Oblivion, Liv's full name.

Now as I've written all this and read the question again I realize this is probably not what you were asking for at all... But consider this as a bit of a behind the scenes for my AU. 😅 Bonus content on the dvd but instead in the form of a boring tumblr post. :P