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kanene-yaaay · 2 months

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He started it!

Kanene's notes: I think my brain is no longer able to grasp what a 'quick, small fic' is kjhgfdfghjjhgvjhgf somebody this was supposed to be just a small drabble but the cuteness broke me. Somebody save me from the Dogday brain rot please somebody save me...

But anyway! Can't say when I will be able to post again, college just started and so my days are going to be very full :') Still! Hope you all like this!

Warnings: Plenty of raspberries, nibbles and teasy nicknames. Around 3,500 words. Ticklish!Dogday and Ler!Reader. Other than that, nothing, this is pure tooth-rooting fluff. Rip da boi. Also! Once again, I'm obsessed w Felix's writing style where the dialogues and narration are mingled together so all the hugs and thank you's to her :D

[~*~]

Dogday had started it.

Of course it was him. Just like a ray of sunshine, your own personal star, shining and chasing the dark shadows away, he did and now there was no other way this could’ve played out.

“A-angel, please!” His voice glitched, getting lower at the end of his plea, however immediately growing higher again as giggles began filling the space, crackling and buzzing in both despair and delight. “Think about what you’re about to do!”

You hummed and smiled at his squeal, fond and sweet and absolutely devilishly as you remembered how this entire game began.

Every single corner of this factory was dangerous. Even so, there were hostile places where any kind of sound, whisper or even a poorly suppressed gasp could attract the worst kind of attention and immediately break in pieces the fragile peace that warily followed you and Dogday in your path. At the time, you both had been walking through one of these areas for far too long, bathed by complete silence, careful to keep your steps silent and with an alerted kind of tension clinging to your form with each passing second.

That was when, for some reason, Dogday decided that enough was enough. It was his moment to shine.

Where even did the idea come from? Has he been bored?

“You just seemed so stressed!” His tail was wagging so much you could feel the wind it created hitting your legs. An involuntary coo left your mouth at the playful, a tad proud glint in his eyes, which only made his smile bigger and loopier. He tried to tug his hands away to hide his face. Needless to say, it was an unsuccessful attempt. “No, no, no! Don’t!”

Anyway, it had been confusing at first. When the giant sentient toy turned in your direction, making fingerguns with his paws and pretending to be firing at something, you immediately spun around in a quick and swift movement, grabpack and firing hand ready to attack pointing in the same direction as him, eyes searching for the danger he was gesturing.

… Stopping to think, he did almost laugh at you that moment, didn’t he? You bet that if you both didn’t have to conceal any and every sound his crackles would’ve rang free and joyfully across the whole factory.

You took an exaggerated deep breath and blew slowly in a faux disappointment, feeling his muscles under you tense and shake with barely concealed titters, a tiny protesting half whine and half plea flying around, his torso squirming.

(Away or closer to the sensations? Both of you knew the answer very well.)

Tsk. You hummed again, only to hear that adorable squeal once more. It took everything to not let him go and dig, to listen those high pitched squeals over and over again and see how many of them you could collect, letting them dance in harmony with his glitching laughter and rumbling chuckles until happiness and joy were the only thing filling his mind and actions, until his smile were wide enough to light up the dark pathway ahead and each tiny, almost imperceptive wiggle, scribble or twitch of your fingers was followed by the lovely, lovely melody of his tickly delight, prompting more and more expectant titters and pleas without you even having to lay a single finger on him.

But the game couldn’t be over so soon. And it was quite fun to see how much giggles you could get even though you weren’t actually doing anything.

(Yet.)

So you pushed down the adoring smile that tried (again) to take over your features and let it morph into a sad expression, slowly shaking your head in a fake disappointment.

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. Such a good friend and he almost laughed at you like that… After everything you both have been through, after all the fights and the talks, the hugs and the vents… You see how that is.

“P-please! Angel, just, please!”

No. Nuh-uh. You went back to your previous position, shoving your face in that soft fur. Don’t start with the sugarily sweet nicknames. You were brooding. Moping. Sad. Devastated. Betrayed. In absolute and total pain. There was no angel available right now, please return later.

His only answer was a series of even more glitched squeaks and titters growing stronger and giddier at any second with your silliness, especially when his body involuntarily jumped, already in alert for any attack and still not doing anything to scramble away.

That could be your fault, but in your humble opinion, it wasn’t very clear. Okay, maybe he couldn’t just bring himself to stop and stand still when you kept using every opportunity to nuzzle and mumble on his belly non stop, easily following his torso and quivering stomach around as he wiggled and squirmed in the same place, trying with all his might to not lose himself already with all the ticklish shocks that bolted across his entire midriff with such a simple action. Words (and teases) continue to fall like waves from your lips.

Maybe he just had been bitten by an awful ticklybug! Who would know?

“There is no tick-” Dogday gasped and snickered when you blew air against his fur again, freezing for a second in preparation for a raspberry that didn’t come. Realizing that, he let his head fall on the floor and trashed even more. He tugged his arms again, playfully growling when you kept your hold firm on them and wiggling even more as he turned to stare back at you, a funny kind of energy and antecipation racing each other in his nerves. “There is no ticklebug! It’s you!!”

Oh well.

A pity.

Anyway. Back to the story. That had been how everything began. He later explained his idea for the game, when you were able to exchange words again. From that moment, in total random occasions, one of you would make a gesture in the other’s direction and they would have to quickly react to it. In the most silly and unexpected way, preferentially, as long as you didn’t make any sound while at that.

See, Dogday? No sound.

He yapped in protest, letting out a single surprised, an offended yelp at the accusation. “We don’t need to be quiet here. You’re just teasing me!” Dogday’s hands fell to his sides, no longer trying to pry you away, shoulders shaking with every giggle and eyes watching your every action with joy and expectation.

You keep going.

The playful exchange became a habit between you two at this point, even filling the moments you didn’t exactly need to be quiet. It was a nice way to interact when there were no more words, memories or promises to be exchanged. That is why Dogday didn’t even bat an eye at you when you called his attention by innocently offering both of your hands in his direction, tail lightly wagging as he immediately placed his own paws on yours, a fun, tiny grin appearing on his previously serious and protective expression when you intertwined your fingers.

Which quickly morphed to a wide stare when you locked your grip and jumped on him, bringing both of you to the ground.

So, yeah, Dogday was the one who started it. And now he was trying to shoot his shot again, pulling out the saddest, sweetest puppy eyes in your direction.

“Angeel, please. Mercy!”

Awww.

(That was a bit adorable, you couldn’t lie. It kind of melted your heart. Just a tiny, little bit.)

(Ok. A lot.)

But that was the thing, Dogday, you were being merciful already. Because if your hands were free, you would give him the entire special attack. You would just claw and knead on that cute, truly adorable tummy, taking some precious time to give your attention to his sides and all the scribbles and scratches to his ribs, being sure to go and tickle aaaall of his favorite, ticklish spots over and over and over again, for as long as he wanted.

Wouldn’t that be nice? And, of course, during this your hands would be very, very busy, so he would have to keep his arms nice and snug out of the way. But he could do this for you, right? Even if he was laughing and squirming and crackling his heart out, not even pretending to not love every single moment of this game, or that he wanted it to be over any moment soon.

“Eek! Wait, wait!”

You grinned. See? That was what not being merciful would be. But, stopping to think, those are not bad ideas at all. He really couldn’t stop getting any more adorable, could he?

“Sweetheart!” He squeaked and shook his head, partially in a way to disperse all the restless energy taking over his body and partially in a hopeless attempt to make his big ears cover his flaming face.

Oh.

(It was quite endearing, actually, how he didn’t exactly blush. His smile would get wobblier and the light in his eyes fuzzy and lightly trembling all while he couldn’t decided if he tried to hide his face or kept staring at you with a gaze so full of complete trust, an excited desperation conquering all his features… Honestly it was just as crystal clear as if his face got completely taken over by a strong shade of red, truly.)

Your entire demeanor softened. That nickname was a new one.

(You wouldn’t mind listening to it being giggled out like this again in the future.)

You decided to return the favor.

Yes, gigglebug?

For a piece of time, Dogday froze with wide eyes and a slight ‘bzzz’ sound escaped from his voicebox. Then his squirming grew anew, no longer being able to look at your soft gaze and trying to press his dazzling, gigantic smile on his shoulders, now with his entire body bouncing with barely suppressed snickers.

His tail hit the floor with an endless and quick pace of ‘thump thumpthumpthump’. The confusion in your expression immediately gave place to a wicked smirk.

Hm.

Gigglebug?

He jolted with a yelp.

Silly giggly gigglebug?

Dogday snorts and tries to pry his hands away from yours with a bit more energy than before. Still, his efforts were still half heartedly at best. In turn you just hold them a bit tighter, thumbs lightly rubbing the back of his paws as your tipped your head to the side, - not unlike he himself watched you from time to time - chasing his gaze and maybe or maybe not giving his belly a tiny - so quick and small that it was over in less a blink - nibble until he turned back to watch you with wide fuzzy eyes.

Nope. No hiding that beautiful smile, huh?

His ears perked a little bit and his wide eyes captured yours for a moment, then jumped to your kind hands, your amused, playful glare, his defenseless belly, his captured paws, your suspecting eyes and, eventually, your eyes again.

Then, without breaking contant, he shut his mouth, firmly pressing his lips in a tight line as he lowered his head to his shoulder, successfully hiding, indeed, that beautiful smile.

Ah.

You see how that is.

Dogdayy ~

He let out a muffled giggle, only pressing his face even more on his shoulder, turning away from you.

Well, since he was insisting so much…

You discreetly adjusted your position, took a deep breath and immediately attacked his lower belly.

His entire torso spasmed, almost throwing you out of him with the sudden move, a loud peal of laughter instantly filling the air as the horrible, awfully ticklish vibrations fuelled his trashing, the raspberry spreading across every single of his nerves, leaving each and every one of them tingling and buzzing.

Another deep breath. Another long, long raspberry and a crackling squeal was ripped from his voicebox, more and more following suit as you chased every sensitive path of fur non stop, not losing a single opportunity to shake your head to increase the sensations, giggling a bit at how that never failed to glitch his words and bring more squeaks to the lovely melody of his laughter.

You spared a couple of tiny raspberries for his sides, literally feeling how they made him arch his back. That only gave you even more access to plenty of sensitive, ticklish spots that you were more than happy to latch on and tickle as if the future safety of the entire world depended on sending him to a total madness and increasing your collection of “cute-sounds-that-Dogday-does”.

You experimentally began nibbling that spot that connected his back and side, right below his belt, if you were not mistaken this would…

Snorts took over the giant toy and in a blink his back immediately clued back on the floor, torso trying and failing in curling into a defensive ball. The new round of raspberries vibrated across his side and teased his entire ribcage, tickling each bone and nerve.

Dogday tried to muffle his reactions on his shoulder, but with each nibble, each raspberry, tease and nuzzle he felt his mind getting more and more overpowered by the realization that it tickled. It tickled so, so, so much and there was nothing he could do to stop it. Not when his face seemed to be set aflame and his entire body kept getting closer and closer from giving up completely from his squirms and wiggles to let himself succumb to the joyful, insane, funny and fun sensation. Not when his angel kept looking at him with so much amusement and fondness that only succeeded to make him feel even more ticklish and the fact that his giggles weren’t the only ones filling the room made him feel extra silly and made his heart melt with delight. When he was able to just laugh and squeal his heart out, carefree and loud and happy.

How could anyone blame him, then, when he saw with the corner of his eyes you lift your head and so he decided to push his luck more, continuing to hide his big, gigantic, loopy smile.

Ohoho.

So, your dear gigglebug was trying to keep all those sweet reactions away from you, even after you worked so hard for every single one of them? Now, that really wasn’t fair, was it?

You gave him a break, no longer tickling him. Still, having your voice so close made his torso instinctively try to wiggle away, which in itself seemed to only re-alight all the reminiscent tingling on his skin, making the tickly sensation it go back to buzz and dance on his nerves, increasing the phantom tickles, each passing second and taunting word making them feel worse than before. All of this only kept Dogday stuck into an infinite sea of unstoppable, hysterical titters and snickers.

Do you think this is fair at all, gigglebug?

He shook his head and stopped, then nodded and then shook it again, giving you a glimpse of shiny eyes for a second before it disappeared once more on his fur.

Well, you think this isn’t fair at all. But that is fine. You both can stay here all day long if needed, as long it takes until you get to see that beautiful blushy face and dazzling smile. Yep. That sounds like a good, no, perfect idea! He would love this, right? To keep giggling and laughing and squealing here while being tickled silly forever and ever?

“Sweheheart!”

Oh! You wonder who said that! It sounded like your dear friend Dogday, but it couldn’t be him, right? No, not really. He was too busy hiding away from his best friend, as it seems.

Aw, that was a pity, truly. He was such a kind, awesome presence in your life. With a personality able to brighten everyone’s life and a trustful companion that was incredibly kind and strong. Always ready to help without a second thought or a blink of an eye, to give a hand, a comforting hug or a remark that would bring you straight to reality.

Besides, he was kind of cute, too. Like a sweet, excited puppy. He had this loud, booming laughter that, when you got him laughing for long enough, started to descend into a series of crackles that never failed to make him snort and bounce around in joy until his voice box began to glitch in the most endearing and funny way.

“No more teasing! No more!” Dogday’s titters grew to hysterical high pitched giggles and he scrunched up his neck, trying to best to curl up and disappear as more and more heat spread across his face. His tail would make a hole into the factory’s ground at this rate.

See? It was the most adorably adorable thing, honestly.

Actually…

You adjusted yourself again and his bubbly giggles developed to chuckles, paws tugging from your grip once again. He knew very well what that tune of yours meant.

You kind of missed listening to his laughter…

And so, with a swift move you freed your hands, fastly shoving them on Dogday’s armpits before he could even react.

Without wasting a single second, you digged.

A shriek took over every other sound in the place. And then other as you pushed your face right in the middle of his tummy, nibbling and pressing raspberries on it without mercy all while your fingers scratched, scribbled and drummed on his pits with no abandon, nimble fingers dancing on the spot for a few minutes before jumping to other one, to prevent him to get used to the sensation.

Dogday just fell limply on the floor, his shoulders, torso and belly shook with the force of his laughter, and his arms kept jumping from hiding his face to cluing on his sides in a futile attempt to stop the wiggling from worming their way, once more, to his ribs or neck. Each snort, squeal, yelp, snicker, crackle and every other sound swirled freely in the air, especially when a raspberry found a new sensitive spot that even he didn’t know about - since when his collarbone was so ticklish? - and focused all their attention there until all his cute and fun reactions slowed to a string of bubbly, hysterical giggles and his friend went on the look for another sweet tickle spot.

His neck, ribs, armpits, stomach, even his own ears had not been safe from the playful attack. A few pieces of time passed until it slowed to an incredible, horrible kind of soft tickling that led to a series of tittering sniggers to spill from his lips and to a beginning of tears to gather in the corner of his eyes.

At this point, his paws came and gently rested on your hands, engulfing them completely, glimmering eyes finding yours as the light scribbling instinctively squirm lazily from one side to other.

You stopped, entire form melting, the playful smirk plastered on your features losing the sharpness of its corners as a proud fondness took over. You freed one hand to caress the fur of his head, chuckling with drops of amusement and care when he closed his eyes and all his muscles relaxed completely at that, his tail now going back and forth in a tired but content wag. He nuzzled your hand.

There is it. My beautiful smile.

He groaned, pulling his ears until they covered his face. “Angel… You’re ruthless.”

Hey, it’s not teasing if it’s true!

Another groan. He muttered something under his breath but didn’t shy away from your touch.

The silence fell like a soft blanket on you, bringing to that dark, horrible place a feeling of safety and care that used to be just a pointless, futile dream, before.

(This was nice. Safe.)

Suddenly, two paws flew like a blur of movement in your direction and you felt your entire world tumble and turn upside down.

You blinked and as your eyes focused, only to find a giant sentient toy who resembled a dog and slowly became your trustful companionship on the last days (hours?) in this factory. Someone you knew that would be right by your side and fight for your safety almost as much as you fought for his.

Although, by the way his mischievous gaze found yours and big arms embraced you in a firm, but still gentle, hug, you must admit you weren’t feeling that safe anymore.

…Dogday?

“No. You’re in friend hug jail. Paying for your friend crimes. You can’t get out.”

You snorted. Glad that you had the sense to start that playful game in the safe area you and Dogday had been clearing and taking care for some time since the ‘You Got To Be a Human and Rest’ episode.

Getting comfortable, you let out a relaxed sigh, snuggling closer, letting your hand softly run on his back in a soft, nice rhythm, not taking too long to feel him melting under the caring touch.

Well, you may be in jail, but your consciousness was clear.

Dogday had started it.

#Ticklish!Dogday #Lee!Dogday #Ler!Reader #Ler!Player #poppy playtime tickles #poppy playtime tickling #Kanene's fic #Kanene's fanfic #DOGDAY IS A DEAR HE DESERVES TO LAUGH AND BE SILLY AND PLAYFUL AND HAPPY OK I COULDN'T HELP IT #I like to imagine that Dogday is all giggles and half pleas and protesting babbles and giddy snickers until he actually gets tickled #then he just let everything else go and start laughing non stop without a single care in the world #if i had a nickel everytime I had to be careful while describing raspberries and nibbles w a character that had trauma related to being-#well-#nibbled on but not in a tickly fun way. I would have two nickels. Which isn't a lot. But it's weird that happened twice...#lkjhgfghjkolploijuh anyway!! hope you all have a nice week! take care <3 #xreader #they are both incredibly silly you honor #I was writing another fic where reader and dogday find his own small smiling critter toy version and befriend it but this one will be super #-long and time is scarse so I decided to finish this playful idea here first and then try to write the other when I can #Let's see how that plays out :D

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pistachi0art · 9 days

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More Ben fam stuff I believe I have neglected to put here

#Neo’s way more of an E boy now #men’s fashion can be difficult sometimes aight #small things #the twins are Marley n Neo #bc YES I take back what I said about Ben not having any twin siblings #I like twin dynamics ok #and Cohen!#I’m going through his design n personality and have landed on ‘moody singer who writes songs about how shitty everything is’#he’s also like. coping bc he took Ben’s ‘thing’#long story short Ben really liked singing when he was younger but never wanted to pursue it #and Cohen just happened to also be really good but not as good as Ben so he claimed that singing would be HIS thing #and now he feels guilty bc he knows that Ben never pursued it bc Cohen took that confidence from him #and it was really more about the fame n glamour for Cohen too so #he feels his singing is ingenuous #lmao #lore jumpscare!!!#big thoughts #late night posting #benrey fam

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human-encounters-diary · 8 months

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Day 16

As the human and I did not share any duties during this particular cycle, I decided now might be a fitting time to inform the Vitrichl about the aforementioned book, which could possibly grant a further insight into Terrans.

Despite the quite serious circumstances we are currently in, I was able to secure a time frame to initiate a conversation regarding this topic.

I repeated the information V-7 had been able to conjure on this as well as other stories and reports on humans.

"There seems to be one…obstacle, though: The book‘s last documented location is in system Skė-51-33, which does not seem to be even remotely near our current route.", I eludicated.

The Vitrichl seemed to consider the information given, keeping in mind the reason the SIIR Noxos usually avoids this particular system: its unfriendly and occasionally aggressive nature.

Concluding, I was able to convince the Vitrichl through the benefits this book could provide in the task of studying humans, causing the Vitrichl to eludicate that changing the route was currently not possible, but as soon as the chance was offered to us, we would make a short detour through this system to retrieve said book, given that the book was still located there.

In the meantime, I was tasked with retrieving as much possible information on this particular and other sources about humans.

Our arrival on Fendaar is imminent, as we are nearing the planet‘s atmosphere. Further reports will follow.

#So um. Hiiiii #Sorry once again for my absence I‘ve been in a bit of a writing slump the past few days for some reason #I actually had this chapter laying around for a few days basically finished but unfortunately. Written on paper. By hand.#And I kind of avoided making a digital form and typing everything off again #And before anyone asks no I cannot just take a photo and copy the text out because I happen to write in cursive <33 #Also I had work 😔 but I got to pet animals sooo #By “animals” I am referring to actual animals and not the kids I had to look after lol #But I‘m back now!!#This chapter seems kinda short #It IS kinda short I mean #But this is for actual plot reasons for once and not bc I had little time to write lol #Bc the next chapter they literally land on a planet so it‘ll likely be long asf again 😀👍#Anyway #nr.16 #day 16 #earth is space australia #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #space australia #humans are insane #humans are terrifying #humans in space #humans are space oddities #humans are space australians #humans are crazy #humans are awesome #original writing #humans from an outsider perspective #alien pov #original story

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sweetpapercroissant · 4 months

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i don’t get the appeal of an incest ship if you’re only ever going to focus on the good romantic feelings and not the icky negative ones. the resentment the feeling of being trapped shackled wanting out and away from the person who knows so much too much about you since before you even knew to not allow it but at the same time you can’t imagine living in a world without them being away is like tearing a limb a piece of your soul you will never again be complete without them. no one else will ever understand you the way they do no one else will ever get so deep under your skin and you may hate it but you hate the thought of them not being there even more you can’t stand to see anyone else get to a part of them you didn’t and even worse when they get it before you. you push and you push and you push but when they let go it’s like you’re free falling and it doesn’t matter how far away you run you will never be far enough away because you carry them inside you everywhere you go. you tell yourself you want nothing more than to get away but they’re the only home you will ever have and you won’t ever let anyone get that close you’re already moulded to only fit in perfectly with them and you didn’t have a choice but this is who you are. there’s nothing you could do to make them let you go but there’s nothing you could do to make them let you go. you want to be so close to them you want to merge your bodies into one you hate how crowded you feel when they’re in the same room like they’re sucking in all the air and there isn’t any left for you and you want to get away so you can just breathe but you don’t even want to breathe in the air that hasn’t passed through their lungs first you hate that you feel this way you wish you could claw it out of your veins but then who would you be without it without them you want so much and it’s so ugly and you’re ashamed of how raw that need is how you want every part the good the bad the human you wish none of this had ever happened you feel dirty you never even had a chance to find something else be something else but then you look over and you love them so much so much and when it comes down to it nothing else was ever going to be enough for you anyway.

#and this is all still just one type of the different dynamics possible #and even then i haven’t covered everything #it’s all just one tight hot mess of feelings. and it’s so good #there is still much much more and i wanted to write it but it was just getting so long #this isn’t targeted at anyone person or fandom but i have recently noticed an increasing trend of (that is probably just my dash tho)#treating incest ships as primarily romantic and. that just takes away everything that makes them so engaging in the first place #to each their own i don’t believe in telling people how to enjoy their fiction but i just don’t understand it is all #you do you i’m not judging or huffy about it or anything. and obviously i’m not talking about #making fluffy feel good posts/art/stories etc about your ships #but treating these ships the same way and looking at them mainly through the lens of romantic relationships #will just leave you with a huge part of them missing #and you can’t really understand their dynamics and their interactions without that very important context (they were family first)#which is also the foundation of their relationship #.txt

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sukugo · 12 days

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sukuna and gojo use binding vows for sex, taking things like orgasm denials or touch deprivation steps further, where the other is contractually bound to not be able to do certain things, like touch themselves or touch the other etc etc

one such instance being a vow where gojo has a vibrator up his ass, but he can't touch himself or remove it, until sukuna specifically, pulls it out.

he keeps the vibe in throughout the day, with sukuna controlling it remotely, even as they both go throughout their separate days.

gojo goes to have his usual breakfast, and meets yuuji at the dining room, they greet and sit next to each other. yuuji is, as always, energetic and excited to see him

they make conversation, until gojo gives a jolt and starts twitching and huffing. sukuna has turned the vibrator up all the way. yuuji worries and panics and asks him what's wrong. gojo gives a breathy laugh and reassures him. he motions low and tells yuuji about the vibrator inside him, through sudden jolts and soft whimpers.

satoru complains about it, and yuuji advices to remove it or go and take care of himself.

except gojo states that he can’t and yuuji puzzles.

"it's... a pact—mmh!"

"a pact???" yuuji's voice rises in volume, but he visibly calms, shoulders dropping into a fond sigh. "sensei, you really are..." that's all he can manage to say. reprimand is useless. gojo likes it, yuuji is well aware, he is enjoying every second of this, even as he complains.

gojo gives a few odd jolts, undoubtedly an odd pattern of intensity from the vibe, yuuji can guess. sudden irregular ups and downs that are not taken well by the man.

satoru clicks his tongue. "what is that guy doing?" he actually looks irritated for a moment—a look yuuji doesn’t get to see often—until it’s broken with a sigh and his pleased, calm demeanor returns, mimicking the soft waves of pleasure across his thighs.

still, yuuji can see his hands crumpled at his sides, undoubtedly wishing to use them.

that's when satoru perks flares up all of a sudden.

"actually, yuuji,” he turns to look at him, grinning. “you can help me" he opens his legs and lifts the edges of his kimono, his dick peeking out the fabric. yuuji gulps at the sight. satoru motions to it, giving yuuji a wordless look. yuuji hesitates for a moment, but complies, taking his hand to the cock, and starts stroking.

satoru crumbles under the touch, immediately breathing out his nose and muffling moans. he leans into yuuji, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, fingers clasped in yuuji's kimono, nuzzling into his hair and whining in his ear.

satoru's sounds fluctuate in pitch and volume, making it known when his vibe's gotten stronger. yuuji keeps his pace and satoru spills in his hand. he twitches and sighs, soft breaths against yuuji's flushed ear.

yuuji stares at the cum in his hand.

"you can wipe it on me,” satoru tells him with a breath that's calmed much too fast. “my clothes are already soiled anyways". and yuuji feels bad for it, but he obeys nonetheless.

satoru takes a hand to yuuji's chin and turns his face to him and gives him a kiss. short and sweet.

"as a reward." he smiles at yuuji. the boy surprises but takes it happily, cheeks warm and eyes softened, albeit a bit timidly. a tinge of disappointment colors the edges of his face.

"you want more?" satoru brings his face to yuuji's again. the vibrations have reached a slight plateau, so his voice is steadier.

yuuji’s face widens a bit, but he nervously chuckles, pulling back from gojo's face. "no, it's alright," he lies. "i don't want sukuna to kill me"

but satoru’s already pulling into him, breathing into his lips. "i won't let him <3"

"that's...actually reassuring......" yuuji’s eyes flutter shut as satoru's lips meet his again.

and with that, they're kissing and slowly the vibrations and gojo’s twitching start again. satoru moves atop yuuji's lap to straddle him, and while they kiss, yuuji takes his hand between them and jerks him off again. satoru moans and gasps into his mouth, each jolt mirroring the pulses against his prostate.

they separate for gojo to bury his face in yuuji's shoulders, arms hugging his neck. he humps into yuuji's hand until he comes against him again.

he pants and huffs atop the boy, catching his breath. yuuji's gentle arms hold him, fingers rubbing slow circles at his back.

satoru's breathing calms against yuuji’s neck.

"yuuji, u're such a good boy."

yuuji's heart and dick swell.

#f.txt #scenario that has been plaguing my brain and i needed to share #just when they're done nobara and megumi come into the dining room #nobara twists her face. 'geh. itadori. taking advantage of a married man'#yuuji squints his eyes at her 'like u're one to talk'#nobara: still. at the breakfast table. could u be any more shameless #she says that but still makes her away to sit across them megumi following suit #megumi: go easy on him. it’s probably gojo-sensei’s doing anyways #gojo: oh megumi~ u know me so well #jjk #sukugo #yuugo #悠五 #sukugoyuu #ns4w #the moment of random ups and downs is sukuna drawing out “satoru” in the vibrrator app bc he wants his gojo :c #meanwhile gojo's all irritated like 'what is wrong with him 😑' bby boy ur husband MISSES U #for context this is in my post-canon everyone lives au (well. one of them) where everything is good and happy and sukugo get married and #sukuna gets domesticated (?)#well more like. he's still bad and evil. but he's tamed i guess #he (begrudgingly) coexists with everyone else and behaves lmao #also everyone kinda lives together? it's a bit of a weird situation idk #anyways #this kinda made me want to write again. i havent written in so long #tho i suppose this does count as writing #i also have more stuff to add to this ill do some rbs !!

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sentientsky · 5 months

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"I forgive you." It came out like a blood clot—like an artery dripping gore—like an oil spill. Crowley felt his shoulders rise, fall, fall, fall. The air between them hummed, the tension of six thousand years turning every atom electrified and silently screaming. Breath shuddered out of him, human and terrible and hollowing. He had never been more grateful for the swallowing darkness of his glasses, for the way they hid the centuries of pre-emptive grief and wicked terror. The air was suffocating, the once familiar bookshop turned catacomb.

And then, hating himself for it but seeing no other way forward, he spoke the words aloud. "Don't bother". And then he was out in the middle of Soho and the breeze was harsh against his too-warm skin. Stepping out into the sun felt like rising to the surface of some great ocean—the gasping, desperate feeling in his lungs, the sudden crash of noise. A woman across the street called for her wife. A car horn. A dog barking. Laughter, cruel and far-off. He pulled breath into lungs that didn't need it, winced as he felt slivers of cold drive into the soft flesh of his throat.

So that was it; five and a half million years of want and need and burning, aching somedays, cyphered pleas for "our side". All gone in the space between shaking half-breaths and a kiss still seared against his lips.

Fuck it.

He'd ruined it the first time, had forced them both to look directly into the sun, to face the thing they'd been dancing around for the better part of six millennia. He could do better—would do better. At a music café some years ago, a human had been playing the piano—something soft and slow. A jazz number, if the demon remembered correctly. But the remarkable thing wasn’t the song itself, but that they were playing it with their eyes closed. Aziraphale had pointed this fact out to Crowley, excitement lilting in his voice (even then, the sound had thrilled him, sent a stab of warmth through his heart). It was only after the final note reverberated through the room that the artist opened their eyes, blinking in the sudden rush of stage lights. Aziraphale, ever the music connoisseur, approached the musician. The pianist had explained that, for them, reading music never came easy. Rather, they learned by touch, by the way the keys felt on their fingertips. In fact, the only way they could play a song was with their eyes closed. If they watched their hands as they played or thought too hard about their next move, they got confused and tripped over the notes. Muscle memory, they’d said. It was muscle memory—the galactic familiarity of finding the space between seconds and prying—that guided Crowley now. He hadn’t done it since Not-Armageddon, but it came easily to him just the same. Time, you see, operates kind of like sound, like music; it loops and sways and carries forward in waves. If you know where to look (as the demon did), you can disrupt the flow, send it back towards the shore.

And this was what Crowley did now. Drawing his hands through the ripples of minutes and seconds and hours and millennia, time stilled around him. It was natural. Easy, like breathing or sleeping. Or loving Aziraphale. Slowly, the world turned backwards; humans retreating from whence they came, cars driving in reverse, the wind blowing in the opposite direction. If Heaven had taken notice of their "half-a-miracle", Crowley expected them to be able to see this from every edge of the universe. He likely only had one shot at this.

The world aligned itself once more, and time returned to its regular, steady gait—a rubber band snapping back into place. Something hummed in Crowley’s chest. Something bright and burning and the shape of a neutron star. Hands shaking, he reached for the handle of the bookshop and pushed. The bell above the door rang, clear and and too-loud in the morning air. Aziraphale whirled around, a trembling half-smile on his face. Oh. Oh, somebody, this was going to be harder than he thought. It felt like all the oxygen, all the courage, had been punched clear out of him "Crowley!" A beat, a shuddering breath. "Angel". He pressed his still-trembling hands into his pockets and strode forward. "Oh, Crowley, dear, I've been looking for you. I have excellent news." His stomach did a little flip, something deep within him growing hollow and fearful. "We have to talk," he managed to choke out around the heart still lodged in his throat. "Yes, I quite think we do. I have something to tell you." Aziraphale strode forward, all grins and beauty like a flickering star, all plasma and heat. He could practically feel the agitated warmth roll off of his angel. Crowley shivered. "I just met with the Meta—” "No. Wait," the demon held up a hand, pausing the rushing torrent of Aziraphale’s words. "Just let me say my thing, please." "My dear boy, just—oh, what is that lovely human expression—"

"Hold that thought," Crowley muttered. His eyes burned behind his glasses. Aziraphale looked pleasantly taken aback.

"Yes, how did you know? I—" "No." The angel's eyebrows crinkled in confusion. "No?" "No," he repeated, enunciating each letter with perfect clarity. He was going to do it right this time. He was going to keep him from leaving. He could be good. Right? "I’m gonna speak, and I want you to listen to me without interrupting, m'kay?" Words were building in the basin of his sternum now, pushing up on his airways. He was going to have to say it outright this time; no more waltzing around this frenzied galaxy of emotion. Willing his hands to steadiness, he pulled his glasses from his face, and tucked them into the collar of his shirt. Aziraphale's breath seemed to catch for a moment, meeting the ferocity of the demon's gaze head-on. A deer in headlights. And then, "Crowley, I really—" (Eons hurtled through his mind in a split second, the serrated knife's-edge of want like a being all its own. Aziraphale in the garden. Aziraphale in the tavern, on the cliffside, on the West End stage, in the Bentley, in the bookshop, in the very marrow of Crowley’s bones.) "I love you," he rasped, ichor writhing in his veins.

There, he'd said it., said it fully and completely, without so much as flinching. It was the same love he'd expressed for the past several thousand years in a million little, unspoken ways: an ox rib, a revolution, a church, a burning bookshop and the bottom of a glass and a lost best friend. A yellow Bentley, a lifetime of tethering his life to Aziraphale's, of trailing after him like a moth to flame—like a dog to its owner. "I love you," he pushed on. They were both looking directly into the sun again, Crowley urging them to stare straight into the heat of it all. The words were spilling out of him now, a heaving, thrashing current falling to the bookshop's hardwood floors. "I love you and you can't go to Heaven." Aziraphale froze, pupils blown wide and unblinking, for just a moment. Tension stretched out like a thread between them. And then he pulled in breath like a drowning man (who wasn't really a man at all), and tears were gathering in the corner of his eyes, and oh god, he'd made his angel cry. Fear and guilt and horror slammed into him at a million kilometers an hour and left him halfway between dizzy and nauseous. His fingers tensed at his side, desperate to do something, fix what he'd so obviously broken. Heaven would be on the front step any moment. It was too late, wasn't it? It was always too late. "Crowley—what?" Aziraphale breathed, mouth twisting into a brutal, terrible, heart-wrenching sob. Crowley ached, panic lancing through him like a knife. "I—I really, I can't. You could come with me." He stepped forward, moving to place his hands on the demon's shoulders. Crowley leaned into the touch, almost unconsciously. "Don't go," he croaked, tears beginning to prick his own eyes once again. This time he didn't reach for his glasses, didn't try to hide his fear. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. And then Aziraphale could hate him and his desperate, hungry, reverent love in the aftermath. "Don't go where I can't follow. Please".

His angels blue-grey eyes searched his own, and the weight of his gaze was impossibly heavy, pressing down on his chest like a river-smoothed rock. "Crowley, please. I don't understand. The Metatron said—" His palms found the sides of Crowley's throat, thumbs resting gently on the side of his jaw. Crowley sucked in a breath. "Angel," The scent of earl grey—of old books and soft tartan chairs. Aziraphale's hands were shaking. "I know what the Metatron said," he intoned, soft as rainfall. "You can't go. It's not—they won't change. You're better than that." "But you could be an angel. With me," he murmured, soft thumbs running across sharp cheekbones. "Be my second-in-command." "Don't want to be. Want t' be an us," he felt tears—traitorous, burning tears tip over the edge of his lashes and fall against his face. "Crowley, darling, please." A beat. "I love you." The bottom of the world dropped out from under him in that moment. Aziraphale loved him. He loved him and he'd said it aloud and now it was out there in the world and it was as though every nerve on his body was on fire. His angel pushed on, "Truly, I love you. I need you with me. Please, come with me. We can do good, I know it." He could never say no when his angel asked something of him. Especially not when his kind, gentle hands were holding him like something good, something precious. Especially not when Aziraphale had just admitted to needing him, had injected the word with so much warmth he thought his all-too-human heart might beat clear out of his chest. But there was a first (technically, second) time for everything. He drew in a heavy breath, and tilted his head, breaking his angel's hold on him. Aziraphale's hands—now empty, still shook. He made a soft whimpering sound, and Crowley ached to kiss his fingertips, banish the fear. But instead, he looked up towards the ceiling, to a God who was not there—who maybe had never been there at all. He felt the Heavenly Host drawing near, a sense of hollow emptiness, the scent of absence. This was the time of last-ditch efforts, of holding his heart out and hoping Aziraphale might take it as it was, bruised spots and all. "I can't. I won't. I need to be here, on Earth, with you." "Crowley, please. I don't think you understand what I'm offering you," he huffed. A residual shard of anger stabbed at him then, and he turned his gaze sharply back to the angel before him. "Oh, I understand perfectly well, angel. I'm fairly certain I understand better than you do." Aziraphale's mouth drew into a thin line, tears welling fresh in his eyes again. And still, Crowley ached. A beat. Something in the angel shifted, then, turned on its edge—the walls beginning to go up again, and it was just like it had been not fifteen minutes ago. He was watching the same moment play out over and over again; some cyclical, torrential nightmare. "I would like you to come with me, but," Aziraphale paused, voice breaking in the middle. "But I'm leaving, with or without you." And there it was, like it was predestined. Despite the love, despite the want, despite every shared bottle passed between them, every half-accidental touch and glance and whispered word—despite the way he would’ve let Aziraphale run a sword through his chest... It wasn't enough. It was never enough. They were re-enacting their old magic trick, right there in the bookshop, this time with Crowley staring down the barrel, letting Aziraphale pull the trigger. Aim for my mouth, but shoot past my ear. Aziraphale wasn't shooting past his ear. His bloody ribcage felt as though it might splinter apart. Wingbeats in the distance, a grief wide enough to drown the sea. Crowley reached down, pulled his sunglasses from their resting spot against his clavicle. And then the hunger in his eyes was once more hidden, and he was walking towards the door like a man headed to execution. "Crowley—" Aziraphale nearly keened, the wall crumbling for a split second. Without turning, Crowley said the only words he could think of. "I forgive you."

#did i steal some lines from one of my own fanfics??? yes. yes i did #because im tired and i don't want to come up with more metaphors for time warping rn. so hush <3 #good omens fanfiction #good omens angst #THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE LIKE 300 WORDS LONG #FUCK I FUCKED UP IM DEHYDRATED AND IM SUPPOSED TO BE WRITING AN ESSAY WHAT THE FUCK #idek what this is i literally have not edited one tiny little bit of this. i just came up with everything as i went along so i apologize #ignore the fact that the dialogue/pacing/ideas diverge from canon shhhhhh im too tired to look at source material #ehhh dunno how i feel ab this but whatever here's something (???)#take a shot every time i say chest or heart or ache or tremble #good omens #crowley #ineffable husbands #good omens 2 #aziraphale #aziracrow #go2 #ineffable lovers #ineffable wives #good omens season 2 #crowley angst #final fifteen #aziraphale x crowley #crowley x arizaphale #david tennant #michael sheen #ineffable divorce #good omens fic #good omens fanfic #gomens

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cerise-on-top · 21 days

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Heyyyy :3 and could you do how Kate laswell would help you when your on your period?? :D

Hey! Sure I can!

Laswell Helping Her S/O on Their Period

Laswell doesn’t get periods anymore, which she couldn’t be happier about. Every time she did get her period she felt as though she was going to die. Her cramps were bad, everything else hurt as well, she was moody and probably almost decked someone several times throughout her life. She always thought getting her period was unnecessary. She's a lesbian, she was never going to do the devil’s tango with a man and get pregnant. Laswell always wished her body would understand that as well, but alas. However, she would feel a lot of pity and sympathy when you’re on your period as she knows how much it can suck. While she may not actively track it, she’ll always know when you’re about to get your period, being able to identify the signs. She’ll make the preparations as well, which can range from getting you some meds, should you need them, to buying chocolate or other snacks. Hell, she’ll buy you the best heating pad she can find as well. However, she still won’t be too big on cuddling with you, unless you insist on her doing so. She’s not the warmest person around, so she likely won’t be able to ease your pains like that either. However, she’ll bundle you up in a blanket and watch bloopers of your favorite shows with you until you’re laughing again and it gets a bit better. Although she’s usually okay with doing the chores on her own, when you’re not doing well because you’re menstruating she will actively encourage you to stay in bed and let her handle everything. Cleaning the dishes should be the least of your concerns for the time being. Makes you tea, coffee or maybe some hot chocolate. You won’t need to move a single finger. If she really needs to, then she’ll change the bed sheets as well if you bled on them. She won’t be mad, she gets it. It’s not something you can control, after all. So, all in all, she’ll do her best to take care of you as well as she can. Might take a day off too if you need her to.

#cod #cod x reader #kate laswell #kate laswell x reader #again I am so glad I don't get periods anymore #it's one of the main perks of taking medication #it's the reason why I don't wanna change my current medication anymore either #Laswell is an older lady so I think the worst is behind her by this point #which I am happy for her for. like yes queen! you suffered enough time to get some respite from all this biological nonsense #sorry this took so long to write. I'm only really able to write as I am right now since I studied for hours on end at work today #I think I'm gonna fail the test again this Friday but I'll be doing better than last time so that's good!#anyway I'm gonna write the fluff alphabet for Farah now. not sure if I'll be able to finish it today though #but if everything keeps up as it is right now then I'll likely be able to finish it tomorrow!#and then I finally won't have any requests again as of now #just kidding I love writing but it is exhausting at times

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lit-in-thy-heart · 9 months

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been trying out a new writing technique recently and it's called chilling tf out and reminding myself that fic is written for fun.

#making a little joke but also being genuinely serious #with my merwaincelot wip i've embraced having little overviews in brackets for what i want to happen #but idk how to write it just yet #if i'm feeling stuck or bored #and if i'm getting tired or the idea of writing an ending is getting overwhelming then i just call it a day and do something else #and yeah it's taking longer to write things (perhaps gone are the days when i wrote and posted a fic in the same night)#but it's working wonders with my brain #and it's amazing how as soon as i relax i get hit with several new ideas #just trying to adjust my thinking in that projects over a long period of time are not something to worry about #like i'm also planning a knitting project that i'll be doing well into september #(mainly bc yarn is expensive and my needs are hella specific)#but that's okay!#not everything has to be done and dusted immediately!#i'm glad i took a break from writing and i think it did do me good but damn i'm happy to be back #and enjoy still learning how to get even more out of my hobby #but anyway i'm just feeling a lil proud of myself today so #lit talks #personal

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crybaby-bkg · 1 year

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Arranged marriage AU with Barbarian Bakugou who is so daunting to be around at first. He’s all gruff curses and broad shoulders and scarred cheeks and neck and jaw. He scowls constantly, stares at you while your parents auction you off like some show pig, but doesn’t say much to you besides a grunt of his name. You’re terrified, thinking that he’ll be cruel to you, that you’re being set up for a life full of unhappiness and terror and regret.

But he’s the exact opposite. Bakugou is gentle in ways a man of his size typically wouldn’t be, but he shrinks himself for you. Not in a way that diminishes his status as the newly appointed king, but to respect you, show you that you’re beside him instead of behind him.

He picks you berries on his hunts because he knows the smell of a fresh kill brings nausea to your stomach. You find him along with the other maidens and helpers around his village, sitting beside them, big fingers holding tiny little flowers that he weaves into a crown for you. When he sets it on your head, he purses his lips, mutters something under his breath in his language that you’re still not too familiar with, but sure it means something along the lines of pretty and soft.

And when he finds you bathing in the river only few have access to, he’s sweet the whole time. Doesn’t make a spectacle of you being naked, and is relieved when you don’t instantly cower when he wades his way over to you. You try not to stare at the clawed scars that decorate his pec and jaw when he stands above you, and it helps when he suddenly dumps water all over your head. He shushes you when you splutter, continues on with cupping his hands and letting the water run off of your hair and down your shoulders, scrubbing at your skin until your flesh squeaks. He doesn’t expect you to do the same for him, but he hums in satisfaction when you push him down a little lower so you can wash the crown of his head.

#I don’t think I’ve ever actually written a full blown barbarian bkg fic which should be a crime #bc there are so many good ideas for it #but I’ve been struggling with writing creatively so I will put this idea as a full fic on the back burner for now lol #in the drafts for another 8 months! ☝🏻#sorry I’m lying I’m about to write it rn aidsjdhdjf #anyway interaction has been so low and that doesn’t help with the low energy level when it comes to writing #I do it for myself but it’s a little sad when it feels like I’m talking to myself since I do that enough already lmfao #it’s the beginning of the semester tho so I GET IT bc I’m struggling to read too #this semester isn’t even all that hard but I’m so mentally checked out from school that everything is so much more complicated than need be #I just need a really long break to find myself #feels like I’ve been on go for a few months straight now #okay bye my stomach started cramping really bad which is a single to take my ass to bed lmfao #—new treat in the streets! 🍫#bakugou treats! 🍬

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bookshelf-in-progress · 3 months

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Number of stories I would like to write: Many.

Number of stories I find myself able to write: Zero.

#adventures in writing #i've got less than a week to write a four loves story #(i want to have one done by valentine's day)#i have multiple stories that have been battering my imagination #i've been home sick and so have time to write #and i get in front of the computer and the energy is gone #everything i write takes so *long*#i got a semi-decent opening to the cinderella story but there's no way i could write anything worth showing in time #i tried a beauty and the beast short piece but the tone isn't coming together #i would like to try the goose girl but there's a key plot point that's shaky #i should just finish up the 12DP #whether or not part two works for people #our good friend sunk cost fallacy is telling me i should just go through with it as the story with minimal work requirement #but i'd also like to write something *else* you know?#too many grandiose ideas not enough words #same song different day

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fruitybashir · 9 days

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okay upload in about.. 3 hours from now 🫡

#sorry i literally had to still finish writing it lol #i love how after the break i was like yayyy i have this chapter done already now i have a bit of extra time for the others and i dont have #to rush the end yayy <33 #and then i still did have to rush the end bc i kept rewriting everything two or three times bc i HATED ITTTT but anyways. 🙂 im good.#im going through shit but im taking it out on bojan and kris so im. good. 🤙🏼✨️#but the end is here and its a long chapter and i think i like the way it came out now so <3 its all happening #rambles

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perfectly-clear-from-here · 7 months

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if life was perfect there would be a tranquility base hotel + casino film. send post.

#like cmonnnn #just imagine #paranoia and bittersweetness and overwhelming urgency and 10 minute long shots of alex turner just smoking a cigarette in the bar #the choatic 70s decor against all that liminal space #AND THE ARCHITECTURE SHOTS OH MY GOD THE ARCHITECTURE SHOTS WOULD BE SO BEAUTIFUL #and that undercurrent of pure unease going through the whole thing where everything just seems *off* but nothing is uncovered #and the soundtrack would be obvious-#along with that weird beeping thing in the 4 out of 5 mv #an entire scene about the bittersweetness of pictures of friends on the wall that arent really friends anymore #it all just feels like a dream youre about to wake from #all the extra characters would be sickingly charming with an edge of just pure confusion #cant forget the homoerotic undertones #i need to protagonist to get halfblind drunk and stumble about in the dark of a backroom of a bad dream #i NEED mark sauntering about answering the batphone and doing that mad twirly thing with the line cable #i NEEEED miles kane to be in every single fecking scene #i need lola and jeany and lizzie and all the other names in the tracks to have their own wee choatic monologues #i need- to just shut up and open another script document #at this point im just taking notes i might aswell start writing the bloody thing #is my obsession showing yet? i sure hope so.#GO TO BED NOVA FOR CHRIST SAKE #tranquility base hotel and casino #tbhc #tbh+c #arctic monkeys #my post

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whoopseydaisy · 21 days

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On Witches, Wizards, and Wild Ones: A Conspiracy Board from the Walls of the Witch of the Wondering Path

Ahoohoo and crackle crackle!

This is an attempt of untangling some threads, stretching out their red yarn and connecting one thing to another or maybe to nothing at all. A series of notes and questions on what we know, what we may know so far, or at the very least what we have been told. The purpose is mostly to try and determine who might be behind the assassination attempt of the station of the Witch of the World’s Heart, before the Coven of Elders convenes, but also some other stuff, because these sorts of things balloon out quite quickly when one is combing through transcripts for clues. And also a dragon??

I shall analyze and speculate from what we have been told, knowing some inconsistencies may be characters concealing truths, interpreting them differently, or that some inconsistencies will be born of this beautiful improvisational medium. I will also do so knowing that Brennan is playing a long game, setting up characters and plot threads for a future he does not entirely know yet.

Settle in with your warm drinks and campfire blankets everyone, this is 12 page paper.

THE CURSE(S)

There are several appearances of curses in both the Children’s Adventure and the first arc, often characterized by an exhalation of dark smoke.

In the Children’s Adventure: While not confirmed as a curse, when Grandmother Wren leaves (to a meeting with friends that the wizards don’t know about, to see where the missing Eoighorain might be) to what is presumably a meeting with the Coven of Elders, she returns with a bandage tied around her forearm. But it does not look too horrifying and it is not soaked with blood. She describes the trip as eventful and necessary. (Possibly at the castle of Indri, the Witch of the Wind and Stars, as the conclave will be the second meeting there in a century.)

In episode 8, 2 days before Steel arrives to bring Suvi home, Grandmother Wren returns to the cottage after leaving to try and figure out why Soft and Stone have not come yet. She went to a place that they had told her was safe, and someone was there waiting to hurt her. Grandmother Wren tells Suvi “They’re gone now.”

Grandmother Wren looks ill; her hair is white and her hand is described as black and red and withered, burnt and cracking with blood streaming down from a wound that can’t set. Her breath is ragged, weak, and quick. The curse is described to Eursulon as not strong, but clever. He also learns that the curse uses her pain to keep the itself in place; that it gets stronger the more she tries to feel and deal with the pain.

After the children work together to trap the curse and heal Grandmother Wren, Suvi recognizes the mist of wizardly teleportation magic outside. The girls just barely see Grandmother Wren’s footprints outside the door, but do not see anyone else’s, nor any other signs of entry. Suvi is able to tell that the magic is not Grandmother Wren’s.

After investigating this caught curse, which Grandmother Wren at first believed was the work of the wizard, she determines the curse was expecting a wizard, and did not believe its origins were of this realm. She also says it should have killed her, but it didn’t, because they were expecting someone else.

I was surprised re-listening that Grandmother Wren believed this portion of the curse expected a wizard. I think this curse may have been on an item capable of teleportation magic (no second set of footprints) perhaps meant for Soft and Stone, but when its target became Grandmother Wren, a contingent effect was triggered, or this is another curse altogether perhaps mingling with the larger curse on both her and Ame. Grandmother Wren thought Soft and Stone were spending the summer trying to find out who their true friends were - perhaps the Coven of Elders were also testing who they could trust. While “They’re gone now. Do you understand?” implies Grandma Wren whooping their ass 6 ft under the ground, she hadn’t figured out who cast it yet at that point, which leads me to believe that they were not present. The origin not being of this realm makes me think the origin of the curse is The Stranger.

In Ep 01:

Here we discover the larger curse on both Grandmother Wren and Ame, when they realize a curse has robbed Ame of her memories and knowledge, of her station and of who she could trust and prevents Grandmother Wren from telling her about the Coven of Elders or calling herself the Witch of the World’s Heart. Grandmother Wren breaks through the curse (but not breaking it proper) as it tries to “stop the coronation” by willing the house, and all that is hers to Ame.

After, Brennan tells us “Grandmother Wren can no longer speak as she concentrates on magic, she has not fought off this curse”

Taro addresses the Granddaughters of Wren and tells them “The curse is powerful, but the secrets that Wren shared still live. You have been cursed too” and then, speaking of Wavebreaker, “But there is a key, a key to find where they are being kept, and a key to cut them free when found. There is a source with the power to disenchant and scry”

GrandaughterS of Wren - is Suvi afflicted by any part of the curse, or was Taro’s “you” only addressing Ame? Taro also says Wavebreaker has the power to find where the secrets are being kept, and the power to scry but this is not currently reflected in the statblock…but more on that later when we talk about the Stranger’s possible connection to Wavebreaker.

We also learn in Episode 15, once Ame recovers her memories, that the Stranger had attacked Grandmother Wren at the Grove of the Well— a place sacred to the Coven of Elders, a month prior to her bed rest. She also tells Ame “For some time now, since you were a very little girl, in fact, he has been moving upon our world in a way that I cannot quite see.

Is part of the curse helping to obscure The Pilgrim Under the Stars, The Man in Black, The King of Night, The Stranger from Grandmother Wren? Did he start moving in such a way shortly after she took in Ame as her apprentice (which she was “cutting a bit close”) and the succession of her station was in the process of being secured, not going the way of either Scalvi, the Witch of the Watching Fire or Oruna, the Witch of the Wide Blue Sea?

In Ep 14:

In episode 14 when Eursulon breaks the curse on Ame we are told “Whatever entity placed this curse on Grandmother Wren and Ame put a spell so nasty that it was standing in front of successive contingent effects. That there’s like, a nested series of spells within Ame, and you’re excising all of them. But the big one that Ame was aware of was hiding some others”

The curse afflicting Grandmother Wren at the end of summer, seems to be the larger curse affected both her and Ame. The children only excised and trapped one part of many of the curse.

The curse is described as something sliding and clicking, liquid poison filled with a puzzle, turning from the inside, made of shadow. something that twists and rotates and expands and pierces. The curse is also holding onto something as it leaves - Ame is able to grab and safekeep the knowledge the curse attempts to steal from her on a Nat 20 wisdom save, and then collapses to the ground and expectorates black bile that smells of iron and blood, like Eoighorain, with a 9 on her constitution save. Her breathing remains strong, not ragged (unlike Grandmother Wren). We are told, through Suvi’s identify spell, that the bile is not the curse itself, but was behind the curse - something hidden there, meant to kill Ame if the curse were to be broken

Does the bile smell of Eoighorain because its a contribution he made to the curse (he is a known entity to the Coven of Elders), or a signifier of a power both he and Ame are affected by? We learn later, in Episode 16 when Steel discusses Eoighorain with Suvi, that this smell is not common amongst shapeshifter’s, but a scent she has only ever smelled from him.

When Steel arrives she says that the longer Ame remains in her unconscious state, the more whoever created this spell would be able to track her.

More on this in the next section- but is that why Indri, the Witch of the Wind and Stars was able to send a message to Ame in the Citadel so easily?

THE COVEN OF ELDERS

In Episode 23, Mr. Soup tells us that Grandmother Wren was at odds with the Coven for many years— there was a plan she did not want to go along with, and had been searching for a long time to find a way to convince her sisters to do something else. We also see glimpses of this in Episode 15 in Grandmother Wren’s conversation with Mirara, the Witch of the Waning Moon. It’s a safe guess that this disagreement has to do with Wizards and the Citadel.

What Sly has divined regarding the upcoming Conclave (which we are told in glorious metatheatrical fashion in Episode 23 that “All things occurring as they have been seen. With perhaps one or two tricks, just to keep the story interesting.”)

That if Ame does not go to the North Pole in 3 days, the Coven will meet without her and that they will try to destroy her and in doing so the stations of Witch of the World’s Heart

One of them will make an argument that Ame’s existence threatens the nature of magic in Umora. The majority of times Ame wins that argument, it is because magically if they were to get rid of her station they would probably have to get rid of another.

If Suvi is not there as her advisor, Ame will die

We also know from Grandmother Wren that there is much the coven can do without full unanimity (but presumably would be far less powerful to do so), and the Coven is bound by laws of mutual respect and there will be tremendous repercussions if one insinuates that any of the other stations are not incredibly significant to the nature of magic itself.

But which of the members of the Coven of Elders might want the station of the Witch of the World’s Heart gone the most? WHO IS IN CAHOOTS? Is The Stranger involved? Is Eoighorain? Who has the most against wizards?

Marara, the Witch of the Waning Moon (Mirara? The transcripts use both spellings.)

The death of light, the end of might, the all consuming dread of night.

This is the obvious first suspect.

If that’s not a witch well on the pathway to wickedness, I don’t know what is.

The Witch subclass says of The Coven of the Wicked: “Members of this coven like to paint themselves as misunderstood victims, but it’s not tragedy that turns a witch’s heart to darkness—it’s the inability to let go of their suffering. A wicked witch might claim to be an enemy to all the world, but they always have one kind of person in particular—usually related to their past self, and what soured their magic—that they despise above all else. When you become wicked, choose a virtue that is anathema to you: courage, fairness, generosity, innocence, loyalty, kindness, optimism, prudence, selflessness, or being in love. Beings that display this virtue are especially tempting targets for your ire.”

Like…you can’t have a piece of such juicy and gorgeous and cool design like the Coven of Wicked (and the rehabilitation therein) and not have a wicked witch in your story!

Additionally, Marara’s domain is the Witch of the Waning Moon. The death of light, the end of might, the all consuming dread of night. The moon wanes as it goes from full to new. When Ame meets her on the road, to light her way to the cottage, the harbinger of her arrival is a candle on the verge of going out.

Mirara’s domain speaks to cycles, to the fall of the mighty and to the fear of the unknown. It is also of the night, possibly putting her in natural cahoots with The King of Night who also hates wizards. The conversation he has with Eursulon and the conversation Ame sees in the water between Marara and Grandmother Wren, both in Episode 23, certainly mirror each other.

She is also often accompanied by wind, which speaks to Indri’s domain, the Wind and Stars, another one of night.

Indri, the Witch of the Wind and Stars

Of frost and stone, of ice and throne, the ruler of the self alone.

Indri’s domain is the wind and stars, a domain that also overlaps with an appellation of the Pilgrim Under the Stars. In the letter to Ame she tells her she knew Ame has assumed her station from how the stars aligned. She has an apprentice we know little of. She also did the most to reach out to Ame to arrange a meeting.

Did she reach out to Ame so it was more likely she would attend the Conclave?

The ice fairies say when they find Ame and Suvi in the bathroom, “long lancing spells and vexing hexes of old were made to pierce and plunder through the guises and guile of wizards”

Were they able to reach her because Ame was easier to track when she was unconscious under Indri’s spellwork? Is it because she does not like wizards and is practiced at secretly penetrating their defences? The ice fairies were particularly silly, one being evidently foolish. Were they perhaps sent by Indri by way of her apprentice, who is lonely and excited to meet another Great Apprentice? “Hexes of old” does imply that Indri may be practiced at getting through Citadel defences.

Does Indri have any pull over celestial movements? When discussing that summer and Eoighorain with Suvi, Steel says “all of that changed as the celestial path shifted ever so slightly. And that slight slight shift meant that all of a sudden, you could teleport anywhere, pretty much unstoppable, very easily.” Grandma Wren also speaks of stars to Ame like they have personalities. Could Indri have eased the way for the eras of easy teleportation? Did she ever go on long and friendly flights among the stars with Grandma Wren? Is her witchcraft more divinatory? I think Indri falls on the side of wanting to stop wizards, but something in my gut says she does not want to see Ame dead.

Hacaea, the Witch of the Woodland Green

The holly branch, the towering oak, the limb and leaf an thorn her folk.

We know little of Hacaea so far, but I think she’s absolutely in cahoots mostly because she would have perhaps one of the greatest motives to hate wizards and want them gone, on account of the whole them turning a great forest into a huge snowy, mirror-y desert and a wizard tower who’s aerith depository is probably doing kind of fucked up stuff to the biome. We know she does not have an apprentice and I think Brennan singling her out as the one Ame could imagine hanging out with was in part was that it would hurt more when she’s in ASSASSINATION CAHOOTS. Might have sent Ame the letter on bark.

Grimoire, the Witch of the Wild Hunt

Where beasts have tread and monsters fed, the bloody fang and maw hath led.

We also do not know much about Grimoire. We know she has an apprentice, and has so far been characterised as much more feral and concerned with catching and eating things. She might have also sent Ame a letter on bark. I think there is more with her connection to monsters and possibly to Gaothmai, and Eoighorain?? Certainly there is more to her than meets the ear. Again I think Brennan could have been trying to be tricky in his comments about her, trying to make her seem less important early on than she will be.

THE STRANGER

Who has held his breath since the dawn of time, the Pilgrim Under Stars, the Man in Black, the King of Night. Who attacked Grandmother Wren at the Grove of the Well and who has been moving across the world in a way Grandmother Wren could not see since Ame was a very little girl, who came to the cottage the moment after Grandmother Wren passed when the station was at its most vulnerable and requested entry, and who does not like wizards.

The strings I am most interesting in detangling here, are his possible connection to Wavebreaker, and his connection to roads which we know are incredibly significant to Grandmother Wren’s wards.

In Episode 7 of Children’s Adventure after the cast each takes a turn describing a detail of Wavebreaker Brennan narrates “So you have this moment together in the hottest days of summer as this suit of armor hands you this thing”. The next scene, after taking a moment to roll some ability scores, is at night.

Suvi then rolls a 3 on a perception check, “So with a three in perception, you look and see that you were mistaken. You look deeper at the shadow and it's just a shadow. But it was a scary shape from one of the trees”

Ame investigates the spot the next day.

Taro had said back in Episode 01 “It will help you find whatever is keeping these secrets, and perhaps whoever took them.” What if that connection goes both ways for a powerful spirit with so many titles? One who has taken care to obscure himself from Grandmother Wren?

In Episode 23 once Eursulon entered the fire, eventually travelling from the Citadel to actual Gaothmai, the Stranger caught up to him enough to have a conversation real fast.

As evidenced above (if that figure of shadow is indeed The Stranger, but the point still stands anyways) he is also connected to the motif of roads.

The final line of Episode 01 (which as the last line from the first episode, carries extra emphasis):

From episode 21:

From episode 22:

But in speaking of roads we must remember,

The iron shoe of horses. 3 iron nails sprung out of a signpost. Could a connection to the Stranger cause Eoighorain’s blood to smell like iron?

EOIGHORAIN

In my folders of screenshots, within the one labelled conspiracy, this one is named “the unexplained Eoighorain fragment.” As I mentioned before, Brennan is playing the long game- placing pieces on the board, but he could not yet know all the ways they could move. Eoighorain is placed like a question mark, with great manoeuvrability. He could go one way or another. Too many NPCs think him untrustworthy and it makes me wonder if he is the flashy distraction of a magic trick so we don’t see what the other hand is doing.

This one goes down a few rabbit holes.

We learn much about Eoighorain in episode 16 from Suvi and Steel’s conversation but also, from the diagrams (which are 150 years old, made in the first 50 years of the Citadel) of garrans, which are a creature of the world of spirit. We learn that Eoighorain’s name means “Of Garran” or “Son of Garran” and that iron was always at the forefront of his smell, with the party speculating that the iron is perhaps used to bind him.

In Episode 15 Grandmother Wren tells Ame she has doubts about how loyal Eoighorain ended up being. Steel tells Suvi in episode 16 that she discovered recently, in the weeks preceding the start of the campaign proper, that Eoighorain was alive, and this is why she sent the books including the diagrams made to smell like him to Grandmother Wren, in an act of admitting defeat and hoping she would be able to find him where she could not.

She says she saw him at Fort Keiran, doubts herself, and then sounds sure.

Why was Eoighorain at Fort Keiran? Because the revolutionary forces of Gaothmai are fighting the Citadel? Because he is working with the Cauntaranacht now and perhaps always was? A secret third thing? Was it even him after all? Was Steel about to say that exact same scent? Was their revolution successful and so their forces hold much more power in Gaothmai now? Is that one of the reasons the war is spinning up again?

We see Gaothmai ourselves only briefly, in Episode 23. Eursulon, after falling and landing in an unfamiliar deep forest, meets monsters caught somewhere between spirit and mortal, left to fester— simian feline monstrosities, somewhere between a baboon and a panther with diseased scaly and mottled hide. Brennan describes it like a yard with attack dogs in it, who attack because of his citadel badge and who eventually leads him to Kalaya.

(And sidebar I think he sees a dragon?? Is the war spinning up again because of a dragon? Was part of the Coven’s plan raising a dragon to raze the Citadel and everyone else? Was that how the world burned before? I just realized now that Eursulon saw a dragon and I am spinning up about it for sure.)

But back to Eoighorain, and Steel thinking that he caused the death of Soft and Stone, who Steels tells us were prolific double agents with connections in both Rhuv and Gaothmai that pay dividends to this day.

Grandmother Wren tells Ame in Episode 15 that Eoighorain was one of the outside members of the Citadel to alert the Acadator to the presence of agencies, jokingly referred to as the League of Whispers, which were dedicated to the downfall of the Citadel from within. She also says “When Steel came to collect Suvi at the end of that summer, the primary targets of their investigation were dead or missing.”

Additionally in the Children’s Adventure:

Steel tells us in Episode 16 that the mission Soft and Stone were on the summer that they died was searching for a dangerous sorceress named Nahani. This was the first time that instead of her and Eoighorain protecting Soft and Stone, he alone was charged with their safety. When Steel returned to collect Suvi she came back with scars on her face, and a new cloak.

Why was Steel left behind? Was she needed by the Citadel elsewhere? A matter of trust? Is she telling the truth? Did Soft and Stone leave Steel behind so she would not know they were possibly acting against the Citadel? Because they knew she would not betray it? Was she really not there, or is that a cover up? Is guilt one of the forces that pulled her to be mother to Suvi? I don’t really think she killed them but I am not discounting that possibility.

I think Steel believes this wholeheartedly, but I don’t for a second.

Stone is a very prolific abjurer, who also studied divination. Just saying.

Additionally,

This little nugget in Gaothmai perked my ears up the first time it was said. Ket, you say? Like Suvirin Kedberiket? Like Aman Kedberiket? THAT WAS A CHOICE BRENNAN. IN A WORLD WHERE NAMES ARE VERY IMPORTANT, IN A CULTURE WHERE NAMES ARE KEPT SECRET. IN A NATION STONE WAS A DOUBLE AGENT FOR. WHO, 2 YEARS BEFORE SUVI WAS BORN, FREED A NUMBER OF SPIRITS, ONE OF WHOM WAS KALAYA, WHO THEN SETTLED DOWN IN GAOTHMAI. AND HE HAS A COLLEAGUE WHO IS THEORETICALLY A REVOLUTIONARY FROM THERE. A COINCIDENCE? I THINK NOT. Anyways I think Soft is from Gaothmai.

In conclusion: ?????????????????? I’m really excited for arc 3 because I really love witches and I don’t really know what up with Eoighorain, and I adore but do not trust Steel (but what else is new) and I do think there’s a dragon in Gaothmai apparently?? And I think The Stranger has a connection to Wavebreaker and I think Soft is from Gaothmai and I really don’t know if I can trust Indri or not but I hope we meet her apprentice and some more ice fairies.

#wbn #wbn spoilers #wbn pod #the wizard the witch and the wild one #worlds beyond number #wbn meta #wbn conspiracy board #im moving this over from my google doc in pieces and it is 12:25 on the monday (tuesday) night before the episode drops #the conclave arc #and I do have work in the morning and I still must turn my outline on the stranger and eoighorain whose name I can finally spell now #into the writing of the thing #this was lowkey and then high key my project within arcs and I did not think it would take as much time as it did and then was FOLLY #but ya start collecting screenshots from transcripts and then ur collecting them for everything #anyways I think I can push it another hour so lets hope I can get er done and hopefully someone will read it #and its not all immediately disproven in 6 hours #a crack theory that came to me in a fugue state I did not include is that Eoighorain is the Scalvi's apprentice who betrayed her #okay it took me to 3am and the episode technically beat me by 45 minutes but I will take it #long post

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