#But GOLDEN GOLD EGG I WANTED

[emile-hides]

If I don't break gold tomorrow I'm going to explode

[zikadraws]

I FINALLY GOT GOLD IN THE BIG RUN

HELL YEAH SISTER

AT LONG LAST I CAN RETIRE

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

[wttcsms]

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖࣪ keep it on the low !!

ᝰ.ᐟ if there's one thing every celebrity needs to master, it's the art of the soft launch. building up the anticipation by teasing your fans, leaving little easter eggs that only the two of you could possibly pick up on, playing coy whenever questioned about your relationship status... looks like you and him could write the how-to guide on this art form. alternatively: a headcanon post on how the two of you soft launch your relationship. ( sfw + fem!reader )

features osamu miya, kiyoomi sakusa, wakatoshi ushijima, tobio kageyama, tooru oikawa author's notes blue lock version!

౨ৎ OSAMU MIYA. you are: a famous influencer notorious for being bad at cooking. you could burn water at this point. it's okay, though, because at least your makeup tutorials and your day-in-the-life vlogs are always entertaining and fun. you always joke that you feel bad for your future husband, convinced that a life of takeout and restaurants is the only sustenance your future family is going to know. you posted: a tiktok of a man cooking in a kitchen that isn't the familiar one your fans have seen from your vlogs. he's wearing a black apron, a black t-shirt that hugs his biceps, and the veins in his forearms pop out as he quickly dices the vegetables on the cutting board. you don't show his face, but you do caption the video when he tells me it's okay i can't cook <3. suspiciously enough, the owner of onigiri miya has his own tiktok page where he posts cooking videos, and his kitchen looks exactly like the one you're recording in. matter of fact... osamu miya always wears that plain apron, too...

"thank you for the meal!" your feet don't hit the ground when you're sitting on this stool, and you're literally kicking your feet as you stare down gleefully at the plate of food he's prepared for you. the meal is great, and for dessert, you decide to read the flood of comments tagging miyaosamuofficial on your latest video. you won't confirm or deny, but when osamu convinces you to stay the night, you know that you'll be more than happy to share a when he cooks you breakfast <3 video next.

౨ৎ KIYOOMI SAKUSA. you are: a cheeky pop princess. with your promiscuous persona, your flirty songs laced with sexual jokes, and your minidresses that you flounce around in while on stage, you're the girlie that has parents gasping when they take their daughters to one of your shows. while there's been speculation that you're already in a relationship, since clearly there has to be someone inspiring all these ovulation songs, you've never confirmed anything. you performed: a special dance routine at your latest concert. while you normally wear extremely bright colored bodysuits or pastel babydolls, tonight you're dressed in a sparkly black and gold getup. all your male dancers are wearing fitted black shirts with three golden scratches down the back, and you make a show of grinding against one of the dancers, running your nails against his back. you're staring into the crowd, smiling cheekily. that same night, grainy footage is captured of kiyoomi sakusa standing in the crowd, watching the whole show. the mask he's wearing covers his facial expression, but he barely blinks throughout the entire show, as if he doesn't want to miss anything.

"and there's a special guest here tonight." your chest is rising and falling from how out of breath you are after an hour and a half of nonstop singing and dancing. this is your ending speech for the concert, and the crowd is going insane. "i really hope he enjoyed tonight's show as much as i know all of you did. the love songs... they all are about him." the screams from your fans are deafening, and kiyoomi's glad that his mask covers the blush that creeps on his face as he hears your confession.

౨ৎ WAKATOSHI USHIJIMA. you are: literally ushijima's wife. you're a fairly private person to begin with, and it's not like you two have been married for long. you've been engaged for nearly a year, and you do attend most of his games, but ushijima specifically requests that the suite you watch him from doesn't get filmed. he wants to protect your privacy as much as possible, until you're okay with being shown to the public. he posted: a picture of you smiling on christmas day as you open up a gift from your husband. the boulder on your finger can be seen from a mile away, and as dorky as ever, ushi captions the photo with a happy wife happy life 👍🏻

"what does this mean?" ushijima shows you his phone screen, and you squint at it before laughing. one of the tweets tagging ushi reads leave it to ushijimawakatoshi to fucking hard launch his wife one random xmas morning. "it means you posted about our relationship out of the blue. usually people soft launch before they confirm anything." "soft launch?" his eyebrows furrow adorably as he tries to piece together what you just told him. "like, if you were to soft launch us, you would post a picture that maybe doesn't show my face but people might infer that you're in a relationship based off the photo you took." "that's dumb." he says, in his familiar ushijima cadence that had you falling for him. "i'd never take a photo of you without showing your face. why would i want to hide you?"

౨ৎ TOBIO KAGEYAMA. you are: japan's favorite nepo-baby model. with a face card like yours (and connections from your parents), it's no wonder why you're gracing every billboard in the city, and you're the spokesperson of a premier skincare brand. your fame gets you international publicity, and you're selected for the latest skims campaign. with an entire country in love with you, it might be a hard pill to swallow for your intense fanboys when they find out you're in love with japan's best setter. he posted: so many reposts of your campaigns. tobio still wants to support you, even if he knows that you two can't go public with your relationship just yet. he's actually branded (and sometimes mocked) as one of your biggest fanboys, and it doesn't help that during your skims campaign, he reposted every single ad featuring you.

"tobio, baby, you're so sweet, but you don't have to repost every ad." you tell your boyfriend, watching as clicks repost to yet another one of your photoshoots. "but i want to." he says. you kiss his cheek happily. "and that's exactly why i stayed back and did some extra photos on the skims set, just for you. these are pictures you might not want to repost, though." tobio isn't sure whether his eyes should stay glued to the personal photoshoot you did just for him, or to the real life you who's ready to show him what the set looks like in person.

౨ৎ TOORU OIKAWA. you are: currently visiting your beloved boyfriend in argentina. people know that you two are together, even though neither of you have confirmed it explicitly. it's pretty obvious, though, considering you're constantly seen with him, and he talks about how lucky he is that his girl is his number one supporter. someone posted: a viral video of a toned man wearing aqua blue swim shorts taking pictures of a beautiful girl laying down on a beach towel. not only are the two of you so hot that you look fresh out of a perfume ad, but to have a boyfriend so devoted to getting your best angles? iconic, truly. fans don't even realize that it's you and oikawa until someone points it out.

"tooru, are you taking multiple photos or just one?" you try not to move your lips too much when you speak, uncertain of when he's going to snap a pic. "you trained me well." tooru whines. "obviously, i'm taking several at once." "and make sure the lighting is good!" you remind him. "it doesn't matter how i take the photos, baby. you're still going to look good in them, regardless." "aw... are you sweet talking me because some of the pictures are blurry?" when your boyfriend starts showering you with more compliments, you know the pics are definitely not going to be instagram-worthy. he's lucky he's so cute.

[cursedyuri]

a soft n smutty piece for fall coziness… <3 the changing seasons always make me feel melancholic and i feel like ellie would take care of r if she was the same :)

tw: depression, nsfw, 18+ only

the sun filters into your bedroom through the half-drawn curtains, a warm glow that paints everything golden. you stretch out under the covers, hand reaching for sunlight, palm open against the blankets as warmth envelops your fingers. numb with cold, you defrost.

even as your hand soaks in the warmth of the sun, guilt twists inside you, ice cold. the phone in the kitchen has rung out three separate calls today, shrill and blaring in the silence of your apartment; you've melted too deep into the mattress to answer. the kitchen may as well be miles away.

she’s probably worried, you fret. what if she thinks i’m dead? i need to call her back.

but as much as you want to force yourself to leave the comfort of your duvet, the you-shaped crater in the bed, you can’t do it. you just can’t.

you’re not surprised when you hear the sounds of your girlfriend’s arrival, ellie’s key scraping the lock before she swings the door open. you’d given her your spare key months ago. she’d only used it on days like this.

you hear the rustle of plastic, the harried zips and thumps of ellie removing her boots at the front door. and then she’s appearing in your doorway, her face twisted with worry; brows drawn together, lips turned downward. she looks heartbroken.

“baby,” she says, voice tinged with a cocktail of equal parts relief and concern, “god, i thought you were—”

“dead?” you interject. your voice softens when you add, “i’m okay, el. i’m sorry i didn’t pick up the phone.”

“no, it’s okay, don’t worry.” she pads over the worn carpet, plastic bag crinkling at her side as she approaches you on the bed. “i brought breakfast.”

she holds up the bag for emphasis; you can see three to-go boxes inside. the smell of hash browns and scrambled eggs and pancakes wafts out towards you, and you hate the way it makes your mouth water. she knows breakfast is your favorite. you can hardly resist it, even this late in the day, as the sun sets outside your window.

“thank you.” you smile up at her. it’s forced—it doesn’t meet your eyes. she notices, because she always does.

“you don’t have to eat right now,” she clarifies. hazel eyes swoop over the bed, appraising the blankets splayed out over you in disarray, and she hesitates. you hold out your hand for her in encouragement. “come here, ellie.”

so she does. she sets the bag of breakfast food on the nightstand, then climbs over you with a clumsiness that seeps through her caution. you smile. genuinely. and then she’s kissing you, soft lips pressed to yours as her auburn locks tickle your cheeks. the kiss is gentle and languid, slow and soft and encouraging. she tastes like home, and you realize you’ve been aching for this feeling all day, body numb in the confines of your bedroom. you lose yourself in her kiss, sighing deep through your nose. her tongue is warm and wet against your lower lip; she works your mouth open and licks into you, sending heat rushing to your belly where it pools like molten gold.

you’ve found yourself in a haze lately: a fog so thick that it blurs out all feeling, leaving you spent in the silence of your apartment even after days of doing nothing. days of just thinking.

but ellie breaks through the fog as her hands cup your face, thumbs brushing soothingly over the apples of your cheeks. her tongue slides deliciously over yours and you moan without thinking. she freezes for just a moment. she draws back and you nearly whine, eyes barely opening to peer up into his.

“we don’t have to do anything,” she assures you as she leans forward to kiss the bridge of your nose. “not if you’re feeling down.”

your heart swells with affection for her: her disheveled hair, her soft gaze, her flushed lips swollen from kissing. her consideration for you. her love.

“but i want to,” you breathe. “i want it, ellie.”

so she disappears into the crook of your neck, the warmth of her mouth sending a shiver rocking through you as she presses kisses to your sensitive skin. each kiss gets more heated, her lips parting to suckle on the flesh right over your pulse. you moan and she pauses before murmuring against your throat, “are you sure?”

you nod almost frantically. “i’m sure, i’m sure.”

it doesn’t take long for her to undress you, which you’re grateful for. she works your shirt off and rolls your panties down your thighs, her hands smoothing back up over the supple skin.

on days like this, when you’re hardly afloat in the tidal wave of your melancholy, she tends to hold you with gentle wariness, as if you’d shatter if she moved too quickly. and you love it. the obvious adoration in her gentleness, in the need to take things slow.

but you decide you don’t want that today.

when her face is within reach again, you pull her in for a heated kiss. it quickly evolves into all tongue and spit and teeth, your lips smacking audibly as you trail your hands down her sides. you grip the soft cotton of her shirt and slowly pull it upwards, exposing inch by inch of pale, freckled skin, and when your fingers brush over her ribs, you feel the slow shudder that afflicts her. her body responding so instantly to your touch makes you dizzy with arousal; that pool of heat in your stomach grows ever-larger. it doesn’t help that she’s touching you too, the calloused pads of her fingers delicious against your skin. she grips and squeezes you in all the right places, drawing sharp breaths and high moans from your throat as her hands explore every inch of you.

suddenly, it’s hard to remember what came before this. the haze that had lingered over you for days. all you can think about is the feeling of ellie’s body against yours, her jeans scratchy as she rocks her hips down to yours. you hook your legs around her waist, bare cunt desperate for friction, even through a layer of denim.

you pull back from rushed, sloppy kisses to gasp at the sensation—you shamelessly rub yourself against her through her jeans, unable to find it in you to worry about the mess you’re making. ellie watches you in awe, your eyes half-lidded as your hips roll upward, your pretty lips parted in a delicate “o” shape.

“fuck it,” she rasps, and she’s lurching back to sit up on her heels, ripping her clothes off in a blur of fabric. her shirt falls off first, and then she works her way out of her jeans, so eager she stumbles a few times. you beam at her, eyes clouded with lust, and when she finds her way back between your legs, the feeling of her bare skin against yours has you gushing impossibly wetter. you find yourself in the same position as before, only now without the barrier of ellie’s clothes between you. you grind yourself up against her, twitching and gasping each time her pelvis glides over your clit; you can feel how wet you are, how messy you’re leaving her. and she can feel it, too, evident each time she moves her hips against yours and moans with her head tucked against your shoulder.

your impatience is a balloon that’s been filled and filled and filled, and it finally pops. you reach between your writhing bodies to ellie’s cunt; her teeth close around your shoulder when you give her clit a few slow strokes, fingertips pressing hard into the bundle of nerves. she soothes her bite with her tongue and then laughs under her breath, uttering lowly, “i’m sorry, fuck, just feels good.”

you hum in response, pausing to reach into the nightstand drawer, where you keep a harness and strap for situations like this. she draws in a shaky breath, turning her head to kiss your neck again, tongue circling your skin before she pulls back to slip into the harness. then she’s back on you, pulling you in for another heated kiss as she drags the tip of the strap through your folds and up to the bud of your clit. you’re soaked everywhere, and her cock feels so smooth as it glides effortlessly over you; you’re barely breathing.

ellie’s voice is in your ear, quiet but thick with lust. “let me eat you out first.”

and it sounds amazing, it really does. any other time, you’d relent, let her mouth at your cunt for hours until you’re so fucked-out you can’t think straight. but that’s not what you need right now.

“i need you inside me,” you tell her, voice low and sultry, almost unrecognizable from its usual timbre. ellie hears it, too, the husk in your tone making her grit her teeth with a low, gravelly moan. “shit, baby—can’t say no to that.”

she slides into you so easily, your cunt opening smoothly around her as she pushes in to the hilt. you both sigh in pleasure, you at the feeling of being so deliciously full, her at the satisfaction of watching your expression dissolve into pure bliss.

“so fuckin’ wet, goddamn,” ellie murmurs. she draws back only to fuck into you again, and you whine when she brushes up against the end of you. the spot that only she can find. that only spurs her on—she starts fucking you in earnest without much buildup, too pent up to be patient and slow and intentional. she knows what you want, you realize, flooded with arousal as her hips slam into yours. her strap drags perfectly through you, so deep you see stars behind fluttering eyelids.

“ellie,” you moan, brows pinched together, mouth hanging open.

she doesn’t slow down, skin smacking against skin as she fucks herself into you. “what do you need, baby? i’ll give it to you. i’ll give you anything.”

another moan tears out of your throat at her words, your arms moving up to snake around her neck and reel her in for another sloppy kiss. “more,” you gasp, your foreheads pressed together, slick with sweat. “more, please, more.”

ellie gives you one last, searing kiss, then pulls back to readjust. she stills inside you while she grabs hold of your legs, palms squeezing the doughy flesh of your thighs before she pushes them toward your chest. your knees are up by your shoulders like this, and you reach your hands around to support yourself, though your own touch can’t rival her. “good girl,” she praises when she notices what you’re doing, allowing your hands to replace her. she instead brings her attention to your hips, holding them still while she pulls almost all the way out and fucks back into you. and it’s rougher, now, more intentional. ellie moves faster, harder; you cry out a blissful oh my god, tears burning in your eyes from the sheer pleasure of it.

this is it—this is what you needed. and ellie gives it to you exactly how you want it, her body smacking against your ass and the backs of your thighs, her cock hitting that sweet spot within you so rhythmically that you find your brain is entirely empty. the ceaseless noise in your head has quieted, in its place is sheer pleasure.

your release sneaks up on you; you’re not thinking straight, overwhelmed with lust and the warmth it floods through your veins. you come suddenly but with so much force it nearly knocks the wind out of you. squirming and shaking under ellie’s towering form, your cunt spasms around the silicon cock and she groans out in delight.

spent, ellie lowers her weight on you, still careful not to crush you beneath her. you’re both catching your breath, but she can’t drive away the urge to kiss you. slower, this time. more loving.

“hey,” she says, “i love you.”

you smile against her lips, giving her another few pecks before you tell her, “i love you too.”

her arms are warm, lithe, and strong around you, holding you as close as she can. but when you start to wiggle underneath her, she groans in disapproval.

“i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i just—i really wanna eat some pancakes.”

[thesecondhandwoman]

BIRTHDAY GIRL

Caitlyn x f!reader

Synopsis: It is Caitlyn’s birthday, and you wanted to make it perfect, especially as her girlfriend, even if you made it a bit excessive.

A/N: Just had to write something for this woman’s birthday (she turned 24/25 in the fanfic).

The morning light filtered softly through the curtains of Caitlyn’s bedroom, painting the room in shades of gold and lavender. You perched carefully on the edge of the bed, balancing a tray loaded with breakfast delights: fluffy pancakes drizzled with syrup, perfectly scrambled eggs, fresh fruit arranged in a neat fan, and a steaming cup of coffee. A single rose sat in a vase beside it all, adding a touch of elegance Caitlyn would certainly notice.

Taking a deep breath, you leaned over to gently nudge her shoulder. “Caitlyn,” you said softly, your voice warm with anticipation. “Time to wake up, birthday girl.”

She stirred, her brows knitting slightly before her lashes fluttered open. Her soft blue eyes, still hazy with sleep, locked onto yours. “What’s all this?” she murmured, her voice low and drowsy.

“Good morning to you, too,” you teased with a grin. “Breakfast in bed, because today’s your day, and I plan on spoiling you properly.”

A smile crept across her lips as she sat up, her hair falling in tousled waves around her face. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble,” she said, though the soft blush coloring her cheeks told you she was already touched.

“Oh, but I did,” you replied, placing the tray on her lap. “You only turn, uh, twenty-something once.”

She let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “You’re terrible at this guessing game.”

“Terrible at guessing, sure. Great at making you smile, though,” you said with a wink.

“Did you really forget my age though, baby?” She joked while looking back down at the tray.

“Pssh, no, I was just joking, Mrs. 25 years old.”

Caitlyn chuckled again, her elegant fingers wrapping around the coffee mug. She took a careful sip, her eyes closing briefly in appreciation. “Perfect, as always. What would I do without you?”

“Probably forget it was your birthday,” you teased.

She rolled her eyes but smiled. “Fair point.”

As she ate, you stayed close, enjoying the peaceful morning with her. Every bite seemed to make her more at ease, her usual sharp and focused demeanor replaced with something softer, more relaxed. It wasn’t often Caitlyn allowed herself to be doted on, but today, she accepted it gracefully.

Once the tray was empty, Caitlyn set it aside and reached for your hand. “Thank you,” she said, her voice sincere. “This was a lovely way to start the day.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” you said, leaning in to kiss her lightly. “The day’s just getting started.”

Her lips quirked up in amusement. “Should I be worried?”

“Not at all,” you promised. “Just be ready for a few surprises later.”

She gave you a knowing look but didn’t press further. “Well, I’m intrigued.”

After Caitlyn left for work, the real madness began. Piltover’s streets were their usual chaotic blend of merchants shouting, tinkers advertising their wares, and enforcers patrolling with sharp eyes. You darted between stalls and shops, collecting everything you needed for the evening: golden and sapphire balloons, streamers, candles, and a perfectly wrapped present hidden inside your bag. The pièce de résistance, however, was the cake.

The bakery owner handed it to you carefully, the chocolate confection topped with elegant swirls of frosting and decorated with delicate candied flowers. “You’ve got good taste,” she said with a grin.

“Thanks,” you replied. “She deserves the best.”

By mid-afternoon, your apartment was a bustling hub of activity. Streamers crisscrossed the ceiling, the banner proudly declaring HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CAITLYN! in bold letters. The table was set with plates, utensils, and the centerpiece cake surrounded by tiny party favors. You even managed to string up fairy lights along the windows for extra charm.

The doorbell rang just as you adjusted the final balloon. When you opened it, Vi stood on the other side, holding a small, poorly wrapped box. “You know, you’re making the rest of us look bad with all this effort,” she joked, stepping inside.

“Somebody has to,” you teased back. “And Caitlyn deserves it.”

Vi smirked but didn’t argue, setting her gift on the table. “She’s lucky to have you.”

The guests trickled in after that, which were Caitlyn’s colleagues, Ekko, Jayce and Viktor, even Jinx (who, after a stern warning from Vi, promised not to set anything on fire). The room filled with laughter and chatter, the perfect backdrop for the celebration ahead.

When the clock struck 7:00, Caitlyn’s key turned in the door. You quickly shushed everyone, the room falling silent as the door creaked open.

“Hello?” Caitlyn called, her tone cautious.

“Surprise!” everyone shouted, the room erupting in cheers.

Caitlyn froze, her wide eyes darting across the sea of smiling faces and the colorful decorations. When her gaze landed on you, standing front and center with a proud grin, her expression softened into something you couldn’t quite describe—relief, happiness, and love all wrapped into one.

“You did all this?” she asked, stepping further into the room.

“Of course,” you said, walking up to meet her. “Happy birthday, Cait.”

She hesitated for only a moment before pulling you into a tight hug, her arms wrapping securely around you. “Thank you,” she murmured into your ear. “This is perfect.”

The party was a smashing success. Caitlyn blew out her candles to a raucous chorus of “Happy Birthday,” her cheeks pink with embarrassment but her smile never wavering. She opened her presents with genuine delight, though Vi’s gag gift (a questionable sweater) earned an exaggerated groan.

As the evening wore on and the guests began to filter out, you found Caitlyn sitting on the couch, the soft glow of the fairy lights framing her silhouette. You joined her, leaning into her side as she wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

“You really went above and beyond today,” she said softly.

“I wanted it to be special,” you replied. “You deserve that.”

She looked down at you, her sapphire eyes catching the light. “You make every day special, you know.”

You felt your cheeks flush but didn’t look away. “That’s because you make it easy.”

She laughed quietly, then leaned down to kiss you. It was slow and sweet, the kind of kiss that made time feel irrelevant. When she pulled back, her expression was tender.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve you,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

You smirked, trying to lighten the mood. “Well, you didn’t complain when I started leaving coffee at your desk every morning.”

She chuckled, shaking her head. “That was bribery, and you know it.”

“Worked, didn’t it?”

She kissed you again, cutting off whatever witty comeback you might’ve had.

The night ended with the two of you curled up together under a blanket, the remnants of the party scattered around the room. Caitlyn’s hand traced gentle patterns on your arm as you rested your head against her chest.

“This was the best birthday I’ve ever had,” she murmured, her voice soft and content.

“I’m glad,” you said, snuggling closer. “You deserve it, Cait.”

She kissed your temple, her lips lingering. “You’re my favorite part of today.”

“And you’re mine,” you replied, tilting your head to meet her gaze.

The two of you stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, the world outside forgotten. In that quiet moment, surrounded by the glow of the fairy lights and the faint scent of cake in the air, you knew this day would be one to remember.

A/N: Happy birthday Caitlyn (and any others who also have the same one!)

[squibbles-gubwee]

I think one of my fave things about SDV is that like. One of the chicken breeds is CHRONICALLY ignored. Which is especially funny bc it's, money wise, the best chicken.

Like. Everyone LOVES these bitches. The classic. Iconic. Chocolate and vanilla ice cream, always there, always beloved.

And then theres THIS baby, the spooky GOTH one which we love.

Then we have the last one which is a Special, a testiment to friendship and proof that you care about the town drunk and want him to get better, if not for himself then for those around him. Not only that but BLUE. Woah. Look at that cool guy.

And thats it

.....But its...

Not?

because then theres This guy. Gold Chicken

And its like. You can only get this guy by getting a golden egg through a long arduous task and purchase at the end of the game that takes a lot of work (or just know the stupid item code and use that because No. Im not doing all that work for this lmao)

but like... what i mean is apparently a lot of people dont know it exists. theres no plushies of it. hell I NEVER see fanart of a farmersona holding one of these guys. and its... so funny to me. Shhh. Ignore Gold Chicken. ignore it. theres only 4 chickens.

[mechdyke-after-hours]

INSIDE THE SHIP OF FLESH

second part to Inside The Tower of Gold!!

⚠️ WARNINGS!! ⚠️

transformers one spoilers, NON-CON, tentacle sex, ovipositon + egg laying, sounding, semi-public sex

y'all... I have NO idea how this fic turned out like this. I wasn't even expecting to write this chapter, let alone make it this... explicit. enjoy!

Going to the surface wasn't exactly a pleasant experience on a regular day, let alone after Sentinel's... experience last night. The more he thought about it while getting ready, the more conflicted he got. He still ached all over and the ozonic scent of leftover transfluids practically wafted off his frame. He buffed out as many scratches and paint transfers that he could in around 10 kliks, which admittedly... wasn't a lot.

Sentinel had respect for the Quintessons, of course he did. They helped him get everything he wanted and then some, all in return for a bit of energon. But they weren't exactly friendly, to say the least. They were very demanding creatures. Always wanting more. But he always just grit his denta and smiled, something he was very practiced at doing by now.

His announcement was slightly more rushed than usual. He still looked a bit of a mess, despite his best efforts. Scuffs and scratches littered his usually perfect plating, and his smile was slightly more forced. His powerful voice boomed over the Iacon display screens as he explained how he was once again "going to the surface and risking his life to find the matrix, for the greater good of the cybertronian race!" with a wide, toothy smile. He could hear the cheers from the broadcast room, mechs and femmes alike screaming his name. He puffed his chassis out slightly, grinning as the broadcast ended. He turned to Airachnid, and gave her a nod as they finished the final preparations.

As he stood in front of the Quintessons he couldn't help but feel that something was off. Sure, he had brought a little less energon than usual, but the way their red glowing eyes stared him down was wrong. He kept his cool, even when the high commander moved closer, hot breath washing over his frame. Slimy organic tentacles grabbed at him, bringing him up to its face. The Quintesson sniffed him, its eyes glowing just a little brighter as it lifted Sentinel up, eyeing his shoddily welded-on modesty panelling.

"I'll be bringing extra next time, I promise." Sentinel smiled as much as he could, trying to ignore the damp breath of the Quintesson high commander as it wafted over his face plate, the stench of something astringent filling his olfactory sensors. He was so focused on the smell, he didn't feel the slimy appendages inching tighter around his limbs.

It happened so quickly. His already once injured modesty panel was being pried off. Without thinking, he retracted it. The Quintesson sniffed again, the traces of leftover transfluids having leaked out and stained Sentinel's valve. He shot a glance towards Airachnid and the other guards, who were simply looking the other way, keeping an optic out for any other threats and ignoring the scene in front of them. Traitors.

The Quintessons tentacles tightened around his wrists and ankles, stretching him out until he was completely spread eagle, barely able to move. His wings twitched uselessly as he tried to get away, but the sight of glowing red eyes and bared teeth quickly put a stop to his attempts. He hung uselessly in the air as horrifyingly organic appendages probed and explored his frame, leaving sticky trails on his already marred plating. Grin and bear it. Grin and bear it.

The first slide of the appendage along the plush golden folds of his valve wasn't as unpleasant as he was expecting. He vented heavily as it toyed with his node for a moment, before sliding inside. The taper made it an easy fit at first, especially after the rough treatment his valve had already faced just hours before. But it kept sliding, and each segment kept getting thicker and thicker. It wasn't long before his callipers felt stretched to their limit, the small blunt tip pressing against the entrance to his gestation chamber.

As Sentinel's intake opened to protest, another one of the high commander's tentacled limbs pressed against his glossa. The taste and texture was vile, unlike anything he'd ever put in his mouth. It pushed forwards, filling his intake quickly, and slowly sliding down his throat. He gagged, but it didn't stop. He didn't realise he was crying, sobbing even, until he tasted the salty tang of coolant on his glossa. The tentacle went impossibly deep, down his throat to the point he could feel it in his tanks. The one in his valve pressed harder against his gestation chamber, and he felt a sudden pop. The delicate silicone ring gave way, allowing the Quintesson to slide even deeper.

To his horror, a third tentacle started prodding at his frame. He was no stranger to aft play, but with his body already so stuffed full he couldn't even begin to imagine it fitting into his port. But that didn't stop the Quintesson from trying. The natural lubrication of the appendage helped it slide in with ease, the tapered end once again proving useful. He cried out loudly, oral lubricants spilling out of his intake around the intrusion and onto his chassis. His port stretched painlessly, and for that he was thankful.

The high commander set a brutal, punishing pace. Sentinel tugged at his restraints again, his optics squinting closed as tears continued to spill down his cheeks. An overload was forced out of him, static energy arching and bouncing off his plating as transfluids shot out of his spike and splattered onto the ground beneath him, staining the floor pink. The Quintesson didn't slow, further bullying Sentinel's overstimulated and stretched valve.

A fourth, much thinner tentacle slid around his leg and up his thigh. It wrapped around the base of his spike, providing even more unwanted stimulation. Sentinel felt a strange pressure at the tip of his spike, his optics shooting open just in time to see the smallest appendage slide into his transfluid lines. The stimulation was confusing, the area so sensitive that it almost hurt. He let out a series of mumbled, confused moans as his spike was stretched, the thin tentacle thrusting slowly and releasing even more slimy fluids to aid the stretch. He bit down on the appendage stretching his intake slightly, his venting heavy and uneven, his frame overheating to the point his tears sizzled against his cheek plating.

The tentacle in his valve started flexing, becoming slightly thicker suddenly. Sentinel panicked and choked as a round object pushed itself into his valve, pushing against the entrance to his gestation chamber. He was suddenly thankful for the earlier stretching as the slightly gelatinous orb slid into him. He'd heard tales of how Quintessons reproduced, but he wasn't expecting to ever experience it firsthand. A second egg pressed against him, sliding in with surprising ease. The thin tentacle filling his transfluid line stopped him from overloading, leaving him frustratingly right on the edge. He sobbed, but no tears fell.

After a long moment, the barrage of squishy eggs finally slowed to a stop. His abdominal plating bulged out obscenely, creaking under the strain of his stretched out protomesh. The ovipositor tentacle twitched before releasing a sticky thick slime, filling him up even more. It retracted slowly, leaving his valve empty and stretched wide. A gush of fluids followed it, splattering onto the floor between his legs with a disturbing squelch. Next slid out the one in his spike slit, followed by the one in his port. The one from his intake was the last to retract, making his insides churn and lurch as he struggled not to purge his tanks.

The Quintesson high commander didn't let Sentinel go; however, if anything the appendages restraining him only got tighter. He tried to speak, but his throat felt raw, his glossa heavy in his mouth. His voice box let out a burst of static uselessly. His optics flickered offlined for a moment, before he felt a rush of pressure in his core.

The slime started to leak from his gestation chamber, providing a tingling numbing sensation not unlike the circuit booster patches from the night before, but located entirely in his valve. The pressure started soon after, the eggs having swelled slightly in the short time they had to germinate inside of his chambers. The Quintesson spread his legs slightly more and let out a chittering noise. Even more slime gushed out of Sentinel's abused valve, the blue and gold folds gaping open obscenely. His node blinked in time with his ventilations, his frame feeling slow and relaxed despite his current situation. He vaguely understood that he needed to start pushing, and he did just that. His valve stretched wide around the firm yet jelly-like eggs as they fell onto the floor below into a wet pile. His optics offlined again as he crashed into another overload, aiding the birth of the last few Quintesson eggs.

The high commander signalled to the other Quintessons who quickly rushed over, picking up the eggs and carrying them inside the grotesque looking ship. Sentinel was dazed, his helm spinning and throbbing in pain. He was dumped rather unceremoniously onto the sticky floor beneath, his plating suffering another few dents from the landing alone. His limbs twitched rather uselessly as he wiped drool and slime off his face with the back of a servo. The Quintesson left rather quickly after that, leaving him and the rest of his party alone in the techno-organic wasteland.

The last thing he saw before he finally passed out was Airachnid staring at him with unblinking optics, almost definitely recording and saving everything into her seemingly infinite memory banks. Whether to use it as blackmail against him or the Quintessons, he wasn't sure. But he'd have to ask for a copy later as... proof.

[pumpkin-bats]

Bitter and Sweet - Mihawk x Reader

a/n: Genuinely was expecting Buggy to win over Mihawk, but the poll has decided! I hope you all enjoy!

summary: You happened to wake up before him and decided to make breakfast for you both.

contains: sfw topics, brief mention of potentially more intimate relationship, gender neutral terms for reader, fluff.

wc: 900 +

You couldn't shake the sensation of eyes trailing after your every movement as you drifted about the kitchen. The attention sat so heavily on your shoulders that, at least twice, you nearly burnt your hand trying to make a pot of coffee. Even the briefest glance over your shoulder was met with a swirling gold, urging you to hastily look away or else you’d be pinned in place.

It wasn't uncomfortable or violating in any way. You knew what it felt like when those eyes held suggestive intentions and this wasn't it. Although, whatever this was didn’t make it any less overwhelming.

There was... something more to it.

Mihawk habitually made breakfast for the both of you every morning. As far as you knew, the main reason he did it was because you had a bad habit of waking up late. He surprised you the first time with a full breakfast spread and the tradition stuck. You were grateful, but at the same time you’d felt guilty for receiving so much from him all the time.

So, on the one day you managed to wake up before him, you decided to take care of breakfast instead. This way you could return at least a little bit of the effort he put in for you every morning. And if you could get a surprised reaction out of him, it would set your day on a really cheery path that was worth the dishes you’d have to clean up shortly after.

Breakfast wasn’t anything too complicated. A simple plate of eggs and bacon with a cup of straight, black coffee for him and something similar for you. You figured a red wine enjoyer like Mihawk would be the type to want a bit of cream or sugar in his coffee, but you've never seen him add anything to it before. And the one taste he let you have a while ago proved to be quite the bitter concoction.

Once everything was all set you turned to face him, armed with the meal, and immediately faltered in your steps.

Mihawk sat at his usual spot, legs crossed and chin perched atop his hands from where his elbows rested against the table. Without his hat, there were no shadows being cast over his eyes and you were able to get a clear view of his face. But the way he looked up at you in that moment felt like staring at two beads of golden light gleaming from the darkness. 

There's a deep intensity in that gaze, made even worse by the way he's posed. Nothing about it was sexual, but your heart hiccuped on a beat regardless. This wasn’t exactly the ‘surprised’ reaction you were looking for.

It took a second to force yourself to move, clearing your throat as you step forward, setting his plate and mug in front of him.

"Breakfast is ready." Your voice trembled minutely from nerves as you got your own plate and sat down across from him.

You sink the prongs of your fork into the eggs. You were actually pretty proud of how they turned out, expecting them to taste blander than they did. After the first bite was halfway chewed, you glanced up at Mihawk. He hadn't made much of a move, still staring intently at you which made a wave of anxiety bubble up your chest.

"What? What is it?" You put your fork down to face him head on with your full attention. "Why are you staring at me?"

"You made breakfast," he stated plainly. You'd be confused, even irritated, if not for the way that sentence seemed to be charged with something deep enough to be felt in your gut.

"I... did. Is that bad?" you asked, raising a brow at him.

He shook his head and finally moved from his poised position. Mihawk leaned against the backrest of his chair, picking up his utensils to cut into the eggs.

"Not at all. It’s quite sweet of you," he said, pausing to savor the bite he took. "Delicious."

You refused to acknowledge the way your face burned at his words. Instead, you returned your focus to your own plate, eating a bit more yourself before the butterflies starting to take flight in your stomach got too distracting.

"Not- not really… You always make breakfast for me. I just figured that I'd do it for you for once, since I was awake earlier and had the chance to," you explained, though it sounded more like rambling as you fought to keep your eyes away from him.

Your attempt failed at the sound of a soft hum, chancing a glance up at him.

"You, who cherishes your mornings, took the time to make this for me.” As he spoke, he brought the coffee you made him up to his lips. “I'll admit, I was quite enchanted watching you. So much grace in even the simplest movements. And with the way that little curl at the back of your head is sitting, it looks like you didn't even take much time for yourself before doing this."

He looked at you from over the rim of his mug, taking a slow, measured sip.

"How sweet you are to me, indeed."

You were lucky that you'd already swallowed the bite you took or you'd be choking on it right now. There was no added smile, just one last, lingering gaze before he took another sip of coffee and continued to eat his breakfast.

The effort it took you to return to your breakfast, with the way you knew your face was painted a deep scarlett, was monumental. You swallowed thickly and momentarily wondered if you'd even be able to finish eating after that.

[hallowpen]

This post is going to be a combination of The Loyal Pin Episodes 5 and 6, as I was unable to post for episode five due to my travel schedule.

Let's start off with the two key highlights from Episode 5...

หมูสร่ง (pronounced 'muu sarong') is a Thai dish made of pork meatballs wrapped in egg noodles that are fried until golden and crispy. For this reason, the dish is literally translated as "Pork wrapped in Golden Threads". It is usually served with a plum dipping sauce.

The Thai name for the series is ปิ่นภักดิ์ ('Pin Phak'). ปิ่น serves as Khun Pin's nickname... but is also Thai for "hairpin". A tradition born from the Lanna Kingdom (อาณาจักรล้านนา), nobles and high-ranking officials would purchase hairpins of gold, silver, or brass to wear as a social status symbol of their wealth. The gift of a hairpin (usually a gift given from a suitor to their potential bride) would symbolize one's promise to care for its intended wearer. Hairpins are associated with the belief that they will help to preserve a couple's love and prevent it from fading over time. They are, therefore, representative of the true and lasting connection between Anil and Pin.

If you managed to survive Episode 6, let's discuss....

การซักผ้าด้วยเครื่องหอม - The process of washing clothes in fragrant water is pretty straightforward. A combination of herbs, spices, and florals are added to boiling water to create a natural detergent. The chosen additives can aid in stain and odor removal, reducing wrinkles, and preserving the color of the garments. The particular ingredients chosen in the series were 1) ลูกซัดคั่ว (roasted fenugreek seeds) - Also known as methi seeds, they smell and taste like maple syrup 2) ชะลูด (dried alyxia) - A climbing flowering plant that has a sweet and light fragrance, described to smell like honey 3) ใบเตย (pandan leaves) - A tropical plant whose soft aroma is described as having hints of rose, almond, and vanilla.

Thai rubies (พลอยสีทับทิม) are extremely rare and highly coveted, as they are far scarcer than diamonds. The rubies are not only admired for their beauty, but are known in Thai culture as one of the nine sacred gemstones. They are believed to hold auspicious meanings, and to bring long-lasting love to their wearer. Owning and wearing jewelry that features this incredibly valued gemstone is seen as a status symbol for royalty. Princess Alisa gifting these jewels to Pin for her birthday means she holds Pin in very high regard (it was hinted in the first episode that Alisa views Pin as a second daughter).

There are a few conversations and quotes from this episode that I would like to highlight.

The first is the conversation between Pin and Princess Patt:

"Can Princess Anil follow in Princess Patt's footsteps and stay unmarried?" "That would be quite unlikely, Lady Pin. [...] Savettavarit is a very famous, wealthy, and well-respectable family. Princess Anil will eventually have to get married. You will also have to get married as well, Lady Pin. I already have some prospects in mind."

There are certain expectations that women of royalty and nobility cannot escape from. The most prominent of which is to be married and have natural born children to preserve the line of succession. It is also important to note that these potential marriage prospects are always chosen by a daughter's parents...with the daughter having little to no say over the decision. Which leads me right into the next scene... when Anil is talking to Prik about having to leave for England sooner than she expected:

"I did not choose to do this, Prik."

Such a short and quick line... that holds so much meaning. Anil is a highly ranked princess yet, even she, must submit to the whims of her elder brother. Women hardly hold a say over their own lives within this society... and that's going to come into play, very obviously, later on in the series...

The last scene I wanted to mention was during Anil's planned dinner, when she and Pin were discussing Pin's birthday:

"What gift do you want from me for your birthday?" "Just wake up early to make merits and give alms to the monks with me, Your Highness."

I'm mentioning this scene for cultural reasons. In Thai culture, the tradition of making merit and giving alms together is tied to the beliefs of shared karma. The practice is said to bring prosperity to couples in their current life, and to ensure they will meet again in future lives. Pin's request is representative of her intentions to walk hand-in-hand with Anil in their present life, and in their future lives to come. I'm not crying... you are!!! 😭😭😭

[crystalflygeo]

Surrogate eggs ft Zhongli + fem!reader

cw/tags: Egg-laying/Oviposition, semi-plublic sex, multiple orgasms, slight fingering, overstimulation, dirty talk, breeding kink, Zhongli has a dragon tongue, praise kink, sex toys??, improper use of geo (can you tell I love that tag?), pet names, some pain??, aftercare.

notes: I disappear for a week and come back with this absolute FILTH omg. It really is just almost 2k of egg-laying made sexy because I am a degenerate and want nothing more than Zhongli filling me up with eggs <3 sorry not sorry.

Having a 6000 years old dragon ex-god as a lover sure meant you were already more or less used to a certain… spice in your life.

But this, this was certainly new.

“Ah- Zhong- Hnnhg!”

Your legs tremble as a newborn fawn as you stray off the main path and lean against one of the golden ginkgo trees by the side, panting and whining softly.

“Are you alright dear? You look quite flustered.” Zhongli curiously trails after you, hands behind his back, perfectly poised. As if he wasn’t the one making the cor lapis eggs in your pussy vibrate and tease your insides. “Do you need to rest? We’ve barely reached the base of Qingyun peak.” He asks, an amused smile on his lips.

“B-bastard.” You huff out with a pout and immediately feel the vibrations intensify. “O-Oh… fuck-”

Three. Three small polished cor lapis pieces in the shape of eggs, warm and snug and deep inside you. They shift and rub against your sweet spots, pulsing at his will ever since you stepped foot in Jueyun Karst, at first it was an odd sensation but soon enough your panties were soaked, juices running down your legs as you struggled to keep standing, sweet noises coming out of your mouth that only made Zhongli’s gaze darken.

“Zhongli…” You cry out.

“Yes, darling?”

“S-stop… mmh”

“Oh? But you seem to be enjoying yourself so much.”

“Stop… playing dumb.” You grit your teeth, clinging to the tree for dear life. The vibrations calming down to a soft hum, a gentle fucking not unlike his cock. “Please I’m-” You whine again.

You feel his finger softly raise your chin and your hazy half-lidded eyes were met with glittering gold, his diamond pupils mesmerizing and his stare soft and affectionate but also domineering, commanding, and full of lust.

“What do you need, my dear? Tell me.”

You choke a moan at his authoritarian presence, shifting and rubbing your legs together as the pleasure robs you of your strength. “P-please… Zhongli, make me come, please I n-need- It’s not… enough.”  

His eyes shift to the side as he seems to consider it for a moment and you almost mewl for his attention, eyebrows knitting together trying to steel yourself.

“Alright.” He concedes, and leans forward to kiss you softly.

Well, at first.

The geo eggs inside you start to shake and vibrate more intensely and you gasp at the sudden rush of stimulation, Zhongli holds you and pulls you closer, taking the chance to snake his long dragon tongue into your mouth, quickly deepening the kiss and set on devouring you.  

“Hmpnnng-” He swallows your moan as you kiss back the best way you can but it’s suddenly so much- too much- you’ve been teased and edged all the way and he’s- he’s just-

Your body shudders in his arms and you let out a high-pitched noise as you climax. Your insides squeezing and milking the toys inside you, dragging on the pleasure for longer and you cling onto him as your legs threaten to give up. Bliss, pure bliss. And he hasn’t even touched you proper yet.

“There we go…” His rough voice mumbles as he breaks apart the filthy kiss, his hands rub at your hips and you vaguely realize the geo eggs have stopped again. He carefully maneuvers your pliant body until you’re both sitting on the yellowed Liyue grass, his back resting against the tree while you sit between his legs, your back pressed to his chest.

He spreads your legs and holds them open with his own, you blush heavily as you realize his intentions, hiking up your skirt to reveal soft thighs and wet panties to the world. The flimsy fabric is soaked and clings uncomfortably against your pussy, more so as you feel the soft breeze.

“W-wait… right here?”

It is true that barely anyone ever enters Jueyun Karst but it was still risky. A lost adventurer, a lone merchant… you weren’t that far from the main dirt path, anyone could walk in and see you… exposed like this.

Your insides clenched, throbbing around nothing but the eggs inside of you.

Archons you really were depraved.

Zhongli rubs your inner thighs comfortingly before pulling your panties aside, his long gloved fingers skim your heated pussy lips and rub at your hole as it twitches wildly in response.

“Zhongli…” You moan weakly. “I’m so full.”

“I know, you look so pretty with my eggs inside you. Breathtaking.” His other hand rubs circles on your navel. The warmth within the geo energy sent through him spreading heat in a sensual way. “How about you push them out for me and we can be done. I’ll take you home so you can rest, my precious mate.” He nuzzles you.

“W-wha…” You mumble dumbly, but instinctively lean to his touch.

“They’ve been inside you long enough, and… we’ve had our fun.” He explains, kissing at your jaw. Two of his fingers easily sliding inside you, making you jump. “Don’t you think it’s time to let them out? I want to see you lay them.”

Pressure builds in your gut and you nod, biting your lip. Her works those sinful fingers in and out of your pussy slowly, scissoring them to stretch you a little and you moan. Not that you needed that much preparation with the recent orgasm and your… activities early that morning.

After all, those eggs had gotten in somehow, hadn’t they?

Only a few moments later and you feel ready, panting rapidly as if you truly were going into labor yet at the brink of another orgasm, you weakly pulled his hand away “H-Hold me…” You mutter heatedly. Zhongli kisses you softly and you take a deep breath.

And push.

The first egg slides down freely inside you, rapidly moving until it catches at your entrance, it burns a little but feels so good, lightning up pleasured nerves in a way that had you mewling before the stretch disappears, coming out alongside your spilling juices and onto the grass.   

Zhongli doesn’t hesitate to slip his fingers back into your heated core to soothe the sore muscles and play with your pussy a bit more, rubbing over your raw clit to make your hips stutter and your legs shake trying to close.

“That’s the first one, two more.” He says softly, his chin resting on your shoulder as he obviously stares between your legs entranced. You flush at his actions. “You can do it.” He encourages you, elegant fingers spreading your folds lewdly and soaking in your essences.

The whole experience is making you dizzy.

“I-I just… I just need a moment.” You pant, groaning and shifting your position a little so you’re less sitting and more lying against him, lifting your hips slightly and offering him an even better view from above.

“Just imagine the real thing. There will be more of them, slightly bigger and thrumming with elemental energy.” He growled softly against your ear. “Our children. Our clutch.”

It’s just dirty talk. It’s just dirty talk and it sets your blood on fire to hear it. You know his base draconic instincts are going haywire with the idea and archons you want that. You want that so badly.

Another egg stretches your hole and you can only imagine what it looks like as it slips and spreads you open. “Ah- Ah!” You toss your head back, let out a long moan and strain the muscles of your stomach before finally it slips out.

“Good girl.” Comes his smooth baritone in the form of a praise. You sigh in relief, rutting against his fingers as reward. You see slick threads of your juices all over on his gloves, the shiny eggs and your pussy, connecting everything together in a mess of a shiny cobweb. It’s obscene.

It’s so hot.

“Just one more, darling.” The ex-archon soothes you, possessively rubbing at your navel once again although you feel something’s different, like something shifts a little inside you. “Though, I feel this one is just a little bigger… closer to the real thing.”

Your eyes widen.

“No, no, no, you did it on purpose… just now… m-make it smaller again, please!” You shake your head frantically, digging your nails against his arms and squirming against the feeling of his fingertips dancing around your folds.

“Shhh, shhh” He cooed, kissing at your neck. “You can do it, I know you can. Consider it… practice.” You can practically feel the smirk Zhongli presses against your skin.

“I already came so much…” You whisper, tears in your eyes. “Zhongliiii…”

“You got this.” He kisses your temple. “Just one more. I want to see that sweet pussy stretch around my egg, please?”

You groan at his filthy words, hips snapping against phantom stimulation as your pussy quivers. You brace yourself and breathe in deeply before squeezing your eyes shut and doing your best to push against the overstimulation. Your hole stretches impossibly wide, widening against the grit of the egg and pressing against your clit making you keen. It rests there a few seconds, heavy, solid, before finally popping out with a wet squelch, dropping right by the other two, and you scream at the excruciating mix of pain and pleasure.

For a moment you can’t even breathe, much less speak as you rest a little. Black spots dance in your vision and your ears are ringing. When you come to again Zhongli is desperately peppering you with kisses, caresses and praise. Hugging you close and growling dark promises into your skin.

“-did so well. My little mate. My perfect mate. Want to breed you for real. Fill you up. You’d give me wonderful little half adepti. So good for me. Truly worthy to be a dragon’s mate. Should keep you in my nest. Love you so much-”      

Sluggish, you close your legs and pull down your skirt clumsily, ignoring the soreness and sticky feeling as your body sags against him in exhaustion.    

The dragon is practically purring, having mellowed down a little yet obviously pleased after having you bear his eggs, albeit fake ones. The intention is there… as well as the possibility for the future.

“We should go to the abode, you deserve a good rest. I’ll clean you up and get you something to eat and drink, hm?”

“Just a little more, Li.” You mumble tired. “It’s warm and cozy here…”

He chuckles and pets your hair. “Alright.”

[witchthewriter]

𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐈𝐟: 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐉𝐚𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐬 & 𝐀𝐥𝐲𝐬𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞'𝐬 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧?

The King and Queen of Westeros had 13 children altogether. Not all lived, well in the end ... none of them did except Vaegon and Saera. Jaehaerys ended up being the last person in his family to die. But what would have happened if everyone were given a dragon egg at birth or got the chance to bond with one? . ˚˖𓍢ִ໋₊˚ 🪷 ₊˚⋆.˚ 𖣂🌷⋆.˚

I'm only going to do this for those who lived into childhood. I'm also not using dragons from the future. I will create new dragons or use existing ones from this time. Also, I'm not going to mention those who already have a dragon... ⋆.°🦋༘⋆

We all know Jaehaerys had Vermithor, Alyssane with Silverwing, Aemon was bonded with Caraxes, Balerion with Vhagar and Alyssa with Meleys. This will not be changed.

𝑫𝒂𝒆𝒏𝒆𝒓𝒚𝒔

Second born child, their first girl. Named "the Darling of the Realm," she was curious, fearless, high-spirited and very adventurous. She was often covered in mud and grass-stained. She died young due to a fever. It killed many, many people; both young and old.

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲:

Daenerys would have a cradle egg. Placed in there by her Aunt Rhaena. Her parents weren't too happy about it, but Rhaena reminded them that she did it for them both when they were babies.

The little princess named her 'Goldwing,' after ... well the dragons' golden colouring. The first time Dany hopped on her dragon's back was when she was ten. The two didn't go far, but they both loved it.

She's a she-dragon because she's laid a few clutches but only one hatched. One out of ten.

I think that there's a possibility that bonding with a dragon could have made her stronger. And the sickness might have caused other problems, but she wouldn't have died.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑮𝒐𝒍𝒅𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈:

⋆ INFP ⋆ Gryffindor ⋆ Aquarius Sun, Pisces Moon, Leo Rising

You can tell when Goldwing likes something; she makes these chirping noises and flaps her wings like a lil biridie

As soon as Goldwing hatched, she never left little Dany's side. At night she curled around her head, falling asleep with ease

Through the day the Gold dragon wraps itself around the princesses shoulders. Almost like a necklace when the dragon was younger

As they grew together, Dany preferred to be in the air rather than anywhere else.

It was almost like the pair could read each other's minds

Sneezes on people she doesn't like

art credit: @lowrifaberart on insta

𝑴𝒂𝒆𝒈𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒆

Sixth born child, third daughter. In my opinion, I think she was given to the Septas to keep the peace. But it took away her ... life. Maegelle had a compassionate heart; she was gentle, caring, quiet and highly intelligent. She had a real gift for healing.

Whenever her parents fought, it was most likely Maegelle who would be the peace-maker. The one to help them see reason.

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲:

Maegelle bonded with Balerion.

It was a shock to everyone. Someone so kind-hearted bonded with a giant called 'the Black Dread.' A conquorer's dragon.

But people tend to forget that his first rider was Daenys the Dreamer. She wasn't violent - she could dragon dream and ended up saving House Targaryen.

With this new power, Maegelle realised she wasn't under anyone's foot. She could make her own decisions, and they would be backed up by Balerion...who breathed fire. And so, Maegelle did not want to become a Septa. She didn't want it. Even though she was promised to them by her parents.

But Balerion put a stop to it. Maegelle did not run away, she only brought Balerion to the Red Keep and reminded her parents that she was her own person now.

Balerion isn't what people normally think. He isn't a raging beast. Balerion doesn't thirst for blood. He does as his rider says. And with Maegelle, he has peace.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑩𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒐𝒏:

⋆ ENTJ ⋆ Slytherin ⋆ Aries Sun, Capricorn Moon, Scorpio Rising

Loves sleeping in the sun

Way too big for the dragon pit, but Maegelle wouldn't force him in there anywhere

Maegelle's confidence grew exceptionally when she bonded with Balerion. She no longer felt meek nor mild.

The princess didn't hide her opinions anymore either. As she had the most legendary dragon; she would never say it out loud, but she felt invincible.

𝑽𝒂𝒆𝒈𝒐𝒏

Seventh born child, fourth son. Named, "Vaegon the Dragonless," he preferred the library and to read above anything else. Some say he's sour, though he never meant to be rude. He performed his duties but no more than he had to. He became an Archmaester and as such he held the ring, rod, and mask of yellow gold.

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲:

Vaegon would be given countless chances to bond with a dragon. No interest in it. Eventually, one of the other dragons would lay a clutch of eggs and while studying, there'd be a pull. He went to see the lone dragon of Goldwing, his older sister's dragon.

He never got to see his dragon's egg. But looking at the youngling, Vaegon knew it was gorgeous. The look it gave him was unlike any other.

Vaegon decided on the name Tembyra (high valyrian for 'book'). He was about 17 when he first mounted his dragon. Green Tembrya was about 22 at the time, large enough to go far distances.

The joy Vaegon felt...

He understood.

Vaegon finally understood his Valyrian blood. So, his favourite things were reading, writing, studying, learning and flying.

Tembyra has a unique flame. Almost looks like a rainbow; red, orange, yellow, green. There hasn't been reports of dragons having a continuous colouring that blumes in the same succession as Tembyra.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑻𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒚𝒓𝒂:

⋆ ISFP ⋆ Slytherin ⋆ Cancer Sun, Aquarius Moon, Pisces Rising

Has a temper, and doesn't like many people.

Favourite being besides Vaegon is Goldwing and Gael.

Likes to swim; well likes water overall. Whenever there's an open body of water, it takes everything in Tem not to nose-dive when Vaegon is on his back.

Likes to listen to Vaegon read

Doesn't like the dragonpit; feels too lonely. Just because someone likes to be alone, doesn't mean they don't get lonely.

His roar is a mix of Caraxes and Syrax's. It's unique and off-putting.

His mate is Gael's Sonessa. They coil their tails around one another when sleeping.

art credit: Volvokun

𝑫𝒂𝒆𝒍𝒍𝒂

Eighth born child, fourth daughter. There was a childish aspect about Daella; her physical appearance aided to that as well as she was only 5'2 as an adult. Timid, sweet, kind, and gentle, with a tender heart. Yet, she was also a delicate and shy, tongue-tied girl, who was easily frightened and quick to cry. Known "to be terrified of dragons," she went and married Lord Rodrik Arryn, had one daughter: Aemma (Rhaenyra's mother) and died in childbirth.

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲:

Daella would have a cradle egg (if she had to go up and bond with a dragon then she would be terrified.) But when she was born, Alyssa put an egg in her crib. The colours: white and blue. When it hatched, Daella was 3 months old.

She named her dragon 'Adema' (high valyrian for fulfilment). A resplendent dragon with light blue scales, white accents and light purple eyes. Adema is a she-dragon as she has laid a few clutches of eggs.

The first time Daella mounted her dragon, she was 12. Adema was a more kinder dragon than the rest. But no less protective of her rider. Possible even moreso since they share energy with one another.

With her dragon, Daella became more courageous. Still kind and gentle, Daella grew into a woman with a large shadow; one she knew would have her back.

She would still marry Rodrik Arryn, but not so early in her life. And maybe she wouldn't have died after giving birth.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑨𝒅𝒆𝒎𝒂:

⋆ ESFJ ⋆ Ravenclaw ⋆ Taurus Sun, Libra Moon, Aquiarius Rising

Daella takes Aemma up on Adema when she's old enough to walk. The little girl squeaks and giggles as they gently fly around their home.

Adema knows how to be gentle, she's been like that with Aemma ever since she was born. When Daella was pregnant with little Aemma, Adema was overprotective of Daella - even more than she usually is.

What was so special about this three-way bond, was that Aemma would also get a cradle egg (my headcanon) from Adema's clutch.

art credit: @ironlily on Tumblr

𝑺𝒂𝒆𝒓𝒂

Ninth born child, fifth daughter. Saera was a courageous and clever, girl, in her own way as clever as her brother Vaegon. She was just as strong, quick and spirited as her sister Alyssa. The Princess was tempestuous, demanding, and disobedient. Her first word was "no." A mischief-maker, when her father found out about her lovers, Saera declared she would be married, but that she could not decide which one of the three would be the best choice. When she suggested marrying all three of them, she compared herself to Aegon the Conqueror and Maegor the Cruel. 

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲:

Her actions and decisions with men would be wiped clean when she had a dragon. Jaehaerys would definitely think Saera would get her dragon involved if she didn't get her way. And if she was to be sent away, her dragon is coming with her!

Saera would bond with a dragon easily. With her courageous spirit, she'd actually be a good ... candidate. Given a cradle egg that never hatched, she was completely torn to bits.

But a clutch that her Aunt Rhaena had hidden on Dragonstone, had hatched years ago and four adult dragons were living in the caverns of the castle.

When Saera had visited Dragonstone in her early teens, she went to the caverns and found something glorious.

Not letting the chance go by, she stalked straight to the one she wanted. And she mounted the she-dragon that very night.

Valoris (means "to be brave"). She's a stunning dragon with magenta flames, intense pink eyes, black accents; her body is half pink/magenta and black.

Her body type is quite birdlike, which hasn't been seen since the days of Valyria. With two large protruding horns and almost like smaller wings around her neck, she is quite the opponent in a battle.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑽𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒔:

⋆ ENFJ ⋆ Slytherin ⋆ Aries Sun, Sagittarius Moon, Taurus Rising

Valoris, is just like her owner. In everyway.

Very fertile... she has laid many clutches but only 50% end up with hatchlings

Saera absolutely SPOILS Valoris; food, cute decor for the saddle, and absolutely NO WAY is she staying in the dragonpit. Special quarters would be made for the beautiful yet intimidating dragon.

Likes to be brushed and washed every day. Not very dragonlike.

Would rather be flying than sleeping. But is easily pissed off and will react. Not like Saera cares...

𝑽𝒊𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒓𝒂

Tenth born child, sixth daughter. Viserra was the most beautiful out of the daughters and she knew it.  Viserra was a wild, high-spirited girl. It was said she wanted to become THE queen, so she tried to seduce Baelon who was 14 years older than her. One night, she slipped past Baelon's guards and climbed naked into his bed, but Baelon sent the drunk girl away when he arrived. After the incident, she was to be sent away to White Harbour to be married to an old man who had four wives; one after the other. And many say the death of his wives were mysterious... So Viserra slipped passed the guards, met up with her friends and had one last night of freedom. At the foot of Aegon's High Hill, Viserra's horse collided with the mare of one of her companions. Viserra was thrown from her saddle into a wall, and she died of a broken neck at the age of fifteen.

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲:

A cradle egg, placed there by Saera, who adored her new little sister. It wasn't one of her dragon's eggs though. It was Daella's. Her dragon was highly fertile.

Viserra named her dragon: Demalys (high valyrian for throne) aka whenever she mounts her dragon, she's sitting on her throne. The closest she will ever get to a real one.

As he grew, Demalys became more and more colourful; his violet scales shimmered in the sunlight. His fire was a rainbow; red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, pink. Beautiful. Deadly but still stunning to behold.

Viserra was 14 when she mounted her dragon. He was twice her height, and ready to fly with his bonded. The two of them were highly adventurous; they sought out places that were never seen before. Found treasures and the like.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑫𝒆𝒎𝒂𝒍𝒚𝒔:

⋆ ENTP ⋆ Slytherin ⋆ Leo Sun, Gemini Moon, Virgo Rising

Loves to be shown off. Knows he is stunning.

Viserra got a blacksmith to create a pure golden star to be settled just below Demalys' neck.

He does sleep in the dragonpit. Doesn't mind it. But he has to be taken out everyday for many hours.

...Flirts with the other dragons.

Has golden eyes with green rims around the middle.

His roar is very similar to Meleys'.

Doesn't like being told what to do ... will ignore most people and has his favourites

𝑮𝒂𝒆𝒍

The thirteenth and last child, shy and sweet; she was a comfort to her mother who had lost practically all of her children. Dubbed, "The Winter Child," she was coddled -  Gael became Alysanne's constant shadow, and even slept with her in her bed. When Gael was around ninteen, she disappeared from court. It was announced that she had died from a summer fever. After the deaths of Jaehaerys and Alysanne, it was revealed that Gael had been seduced and impregnated by a travelling singer. She gave birth to a stillborn son, and her grief was so overwhelming that she walked into Blackwater Bay and drowned.

𝐀𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲:

Even though she's the youngest, she would still have a dragon. She didn't receive one in the cradle as a baby - there weren't any eggs. But when Daella's Adema had a clutch of living dragons, she wanted her little sister to have one.

Gael received the egg when she was 10, and slept with it every night. Daella had chosen a specific one that reflected Gael's persona - a perfect one. Like pure Winter. That's why Daella gave it to Gael in the first place. Even though it was against what both Jaeherys and Alysanne wanted - their last child to become a dragonrider. Completely dangerous and yet, Gael; frail and timid, decided that she wanted a dragon. The rest of her siblings were dragonriders; it was in her blood.

Gael named her dragon, Sonessa, (high valyrian for snow). Her personality is similar to Gael but has more passion about life. Socialising may not be her thing, but she'll endure it to help Gael. Everything she does is for Gael.

Sonessa somehow feels like this is her hatchling and she has to protect Gael at all costs.

You could say she's a motherly dragon. More like a mother hen.

Sonessa's flame is a very light/pale blue with swirls of white. It makes her seem an enigma. A dragon, who is suppose to be hot, with red flame, a beast quick to anger and to retaliate...is a thing that Sonessa is not. She is white, with almost frost looking flame, yes she is still a beast who will retaliate if needs be. But for the most part - she is a protector, a guardian.

𝑯𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔 𝒂𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒔𝒂:

⋆ ISFJ ⋆ Hufflepuff/Gryffindor ⋆ Libra Sun, Aries Moon,  Cancer Rising

Very good around others. She and Silverwing are good friends.

Loves going on royal processions, but she knows Gael is fragile, and most times a little frail.

Sonessa loves showing Gael different parts of Westeros - the water, high in the air, across deserts and the like.

But Sonessa is like a responsible older sister. Not just to Gael, but to the dragons in the dragonpit. She'll intervene when there's a fight, or curl up beside a sad dragon.

She's had many clutches of eggs with Vaegon's Tembyra

art credit: @paparinka on deviantart

(Daella's dragon is so fertile because her granddaughter, Rhaenyra would usher in a great deal of new dragons. Aemma wouldn't have been so infertile if she hadn't had intercourse so young.)

[palesweetscherryblossom]

Lamb in the Snake Den

Warnings: Kidnapping, mention of child neglect, Shigaraki being unintentionally creepy, infertility and unwanted hypnosis

There was always one golden rule of your little village that everyone was slated to follow. Never go into the forest after dark. One might think that it was a silly rule born out of small town fears but you would be wrong.

The rule was born after many particular circumstances that resulted in bloodshed, betrayal and abuse of the innocent. Two boys were banished from the village after circumstances beyond their control.

One was given an unwanted curse and the other was left to die after his father tried to play god but ultimately failed. At first they were left alone, peaceful and satisfied with the land they lived on.

Then hunters decided it would be an excellent adrenaline rush if they tried taking down the serpentine beasts for the thrill. A massive mistake.

First it was minimal things. Trashing the nagas’ nesting sights, cutting down their fruit trees, hunting down their usual prey.

Then they crossed a line. A hunter lit up a torch and tossed it into one of the caves where one of them was resting. Cowardly, they fled to avoid the naga’s more brutal mate.

They all giggled with sadistic delight when they heard a raspy, bloodcurdling scream. The laughter stopped when the scream turned from anguish to rage.

Legend said that the water supply turned an eerie shade of red after the hunters were never seen again. Really, the only proof of their existence was the severed torsos and bloodied rifles.

The two naga never really got over it, for how could one get over being forever wounded? Livestock went missing, people rarely wanted to gather water, people didn’t travel.

They all longed for the days of when all they had to fear were bears, giant hornets and cougars.

One day, the village leaders had enough and went out into the woods with torches to ask a simple question to the naga.

“What do you want from us?!” They shouted in unison. “We can’t keep living like this!” They stated. Red eyes stared back at them in the darkness, coarse scales rubbing against the dirt floor.

“That’s what we said when you parasites came for our land.” The naga answered back, voice dripping with malicious intentions. He scratched at his neck and circled around the primates he was forced to call human.

He couldn’t help but deviously chuckle at how scared they looked despite them trying to act all proud with their silly rifles and knives. ‘No better than a hackle pup trying to intimidate a fly.’

“My mate couldn’t even move after you bastards burned him. He didn’t wake up for a week.” The naga rasped, eyes hurt and angry.

“Just please give us a solution to end this madness. We’ll give you anything!” One pleaded. The naga’s chapped lips curled into a sneer before he began to hum quietly. He hissed lowly in thought before smiling lowly.

“I would like a hatchling.” The village elders were caught off guard, all dumbfounded and gawking at the naga.

“I don’t want stupid gold or even one of those wenches you keep at those brothels. I want a hatchling.” The naga’s mind wandered to the clutch of eggs he recently laid. All of them duds unfortunately. No doubt his poor mate was trying to keep them warm.

“A-are you mad?” A village elder accused. The naga snarled. “Have you acquired a taste of human flesh to the point where you’ll eat a child?” The naga snapped, saying that they either deliver or he would personally amp up the pressure if they didn’t comply.

That’s how you got here. It’d been a few months since that threat was made. The naga had delivered on his promise, half of the flock was taken instead of the usual one or two. Cattle was found to be dead of venom.

After this was made, you were given a special task. The orphanage head guided you to the large, wooden gates of the village. You were handed a simple wicker basket and told to pick the prettiest flowers you could find.

You listened, not paying attention to the somber gazes of the villagers and the night sky hanging overhead.

“Bye bye! Save me some dinner!” You gleefully called out as you naively waved goodbye to the gates. Then you happily marched into the forest.

You had always found yourself enamored with the forest, from the lush greenery to the charming animals you’d see in books. You were gonna pick so many flowers and show them off to all the kids back at the orphanage! This was practically a dream come true!

Your basket was filled with various flowers and the occasional core of a fruit. The moon shone over the trees as you frowned at your predicament. There was no more room in your basket.

And the silly orphanage head forgot to give you a map to get home! Usually the dark wasn’t so scary, for the village had lanterns, candles and other items to keep things bright. But the forest just had the moon.

“Mmm..” You muttered, walking deeper. You hoped that they saved you some dinner at least, the fruit was delicious but it wasn’t that filling. Your stomach growled hungrily.

Mashed potatoes, roasted mutton and pudding was on tonight’s menu and it sounded appetizing right now. “Cold.” You whispered weakly, feeling the breeze nip at your skin unforgivingly. Things were only going to get more frightening down the line.

Rough scales drifted along the dirt path as Tomura took account of happenings around him. Tomura was a territorial naga so he liked making sure that no filthy vermin was in his territory. After what happened to Dabi, Tomura wasn’t taking any chances.

He smirked at remembering his mate complaining about how he didn’t need to be babied and that he could hunt with Tomura tonight. Then he found himself busied with cooking his dinner. Tomura’s musings were cut short by the feeling of something sticky on his tail. “What the hell?” He muttered, coiling his tail around the object.

Tomura then smelt a sweet and tart scent. “Fermented fruit, perhaps?” He hummed. Nope, it was a fruit core. “Oh, those bastards better not be here.” Tomura growled, his rattle coming to life slightly. Other animals would devour the fruit whole. So, Tomura went back on the prowl. He still wasn’t over the humans denying him.

Things weren’t looking so good for you. Frustrated tears leaked from your eyes as you hid in a log, cobwebs in your hair and wicker basket knocked over in frustration.

You had been walking around in circles for a while. Every glimmer of hope that you’d be home was shattered. Your stomach continued growling, your cheeks stung due to the constant wiping of tears. The smell of wet wood made you cry harder. You longed for your comfy bed and plushies, you wanted a bedtime story.

This wasn’t fair! All you wanted was to pick flowers! Why wasn’t anyone looking for you? Your thoughts were cut off by a low, raspy voice and the sound of scales against the log.

“Come out, my filthy little human..”

It sounded like what the monster under the bed would sound like. You let out a frightened scream, trying to exit out the other side only for it to be blocked by a snake tail. A triumphant hiss was heard, a cold hand grasped your ankle, causing you to screech.

“There you are, now time to explain yourself-!” Tomura’s triumphant boasting was cut off when he was greeted with not an adult or hunter but a child? Wet cheeks, wide eyes and stained clothing. Tomura could smell the fruit smell radiating off of you.

Tomura was rare to feel genuine shame, for he had nothing to be ashamed of but this made the feeling blossom in his chest. “P-please mister, I-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry!” You cried, sobbing loudly now like a recently born baby. Tomura’s proud and bloodthirsty expression melted away into sympathy as he watched you cry.

It certainly didn’t help that he and Dabi were coming down from their mating cycle and a hormone crash. “Oh, it’s okay. Shh, hush it’s alright.” Shigaraki’s parental brain smacked him in the face and yelled at him to comfort the child. You cried harder, moreover frightened at Tomura’s body. “Oh, you poor baby. It’s just me, it’s just me.” He soothed, trying to smooth out your hair.

“M-monster! Monster!” You cried loudly, hoping someone would help. To hear your crying. But nobody did, no frantic footsteps or answers back. Just your sobs and the sound of water babbling lazily.

Tomura’s face contorted with sympathy, watching as your poor, sad little face contorted with confusion as to why nobody was there. It was reminiscent of his own, of Dabi’s. Parental instincts kicked into high gear. “Hatchling, look at me.” Tomura cooed lowly, cupping your wet cheek and gently adverting your gaze to his own.

Hypnosis was a tool that naga used for a variety of purposes. Tomura and Dabi used it for prey, sleep assistance and other tasks. It was also a tool to get hatchlings to calm down when gravely injured, tantrums or a sleep aid. You fussed at first for the feeling was uncomfortable and genuinely frightening at first. “S-stop, f-feels weird!” You whined but Tomura soothed you.

“It’s okay sweet thing, papa’s here. Shh.” He purred, watching you ultimately relax in his hold. He smiled sweetly, wiping away any stray tears. “There now, no more tears.” He murmured, looking up at the sky then back at your dazed form. “Who sent you out here at this time of night, hm?” He asked, only getting a mutter. “No matter, you’re coming home with me anyway.” Tomura muttered, kissing your forehead.

“Let’s go home now.”

Pt2 will be coming soon

@messedupcookiejar

[odusseus-xvi]

Pomme, the french egg

So I did a post about the french streamers (and their characters) and their mischaracterization I could see from time to time (https://www.tumblr.com/odusseus-xvi/724443078442778624/hello-helloooo-friend-hi-i-just-wanted-to-say) But I realised I didn't talk about Pomme, who has arguably the MOST mischaracterization I can find :

Most of the fandom see her only through English or other languages streams (BBH, Philza and Maximus mostly recently) limiting their views of her in general, but because of that a lot of people don't seem to know what her personnality is like, and most of the time in fanarts or fanfics she just feels like Talullah (which people also mischaracterize) but french, a little sweet girl in a little dress, so I decided to do a little summary of what she is like and some of her traits that you may have missed :

What people do get right is that she is most of the time polite and empathetic, that people get, though they tend to simplify her to only that.

She is very intelligent (learned a bit of create with Aypierre) and likes to both theorize and gossip with Baghera.

One of her parents is ETOILES !! She is a good and competent fighter ; just a few days ago she went and did a Nether Dungeon with Phil and Etoiles while Talullah worked on her garden. Her main weapon is a Moonlight GREATsword, a GREATsword, a BIGASS SWORD. She participated in infiltration missions in Federation Buildings alongside BBH, and Aypierre, in which she saved her father (Aypierre) from being caught and interrogated by Cucurucho

She has developped a deep paranoïa when it comes to the eggs' and her own safety ; between the combination of the attack of the code on her a while back, where she lost ten totems in mere seconds, an attack so strong that the admins went "ok my bad, we went a little far" (Draw her with golden scars !!! The tens of totems that saved her !!!), and the explosion at the Wilbur Party where she lagged just enough that she wasn't tped as fast as the other eggs and saw parts of the explosion. She is now scared of explosions, and always on the lookout (She also shows from time to time that her inventory and hotbar is constantly filled with gold apples and splash regeneration potions.) : During Etoiles' solo fight with the codes, when she saw the first "Dapper is down" message, and that she knew Phil was AFK, she went and pressed the OVO button HERSELF immediatly, and she got there faster than Forever !!

She is a really good writer, her diaries are praised by her parents everytime they read it, and she decided it would what would represent her in BBH's Egg Museum : She built a library where she will put her books for everyone to read. She is also a good and patient builder, with particular attention to interior design : While doing that she has shown a bit of maniacal side : She LOVES symmetry, and is irritated very easily when it doesn't go that route : One time Etoiles was teasing her by putting random blocks in her build and she went "PUT THAT GRASS BLOCK DOWN !!!" and when he continued she just left without saying goodbye.

She doesn't like to lie or steal things, she is honest in that way, BUT she often dodges questions either by saying things like "Don't worry about it :)" or by trying to guilt trip the asker by looking sad or drowning herself. She aslo picked up from Baghera the way she buries herself when mocked or shamed.

She can have a very dry and aware humor coming from Antoine's irony and cynicism and Aypierre's teachings.

Also fun fact, because of timezones, her default state on the server is sleep deprived. She is a sleepy egg.

TL;DR : She is a sweet Badass, and I'll stand by that. I need more fanarts of her with scars, her sword, dark circles under her eyes, and LOOKING LIKE THE GENTLE BADASS SHE IS !

[dontbelasagnax]

OMG CAN I DO A PROMPT FOR THE KISS ROULETTE???

No pressure BUT I number 35. Kiss against a wall would make me go FERAL.

Bonus points if it's in some hidden corner and they're trying to sneak away after a hard won battle because the codywan brain rot has GOT ME. I CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING BUT THEM

Please pretend like you sent this ask recently and I haven't been sitting on it for months waiting for my eggs to hatch @why-cant-turtles-fly 😂 As requested, here is codywan kissing against a wall... though it's actually a pillar (oops). I was inspired by this artwork I did!

Pairing: CC-22224 | Cody/Obi-Wan Kenobi

Rating: Teen

Word Count: 2,330

Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Tenderness, Making Out, Introspection, and by that I mean Obi-Wan is mentally ill and thinks too much, Implied Sexual Content, POV Obi-Wan Kenobi

Summary:

    "Missing something?" Cody wiggles a certain lightsaber in his hand as he closes the distance of only a couple meters.

    "More than one thing, it seems," Obi-Wan replies.

    [ OR: Obi-Wan and Cody steal away some precious time after a victorious battle which of course results in a makeout session against a pillar. ]

(fic under the cut if you wish to read here on tumblr)

This morning Obi-Wan finds himself in the ruins of a long ago abandoned castle, high in the mountainous region of Bestoon's northernmost continent. However difficult the altitude makes it to breathe unassisted, it's worth it for the view. There isn't much he loves looking at more than a sunrise in the clouds.

The sunrise after a well earned victory in battle has become one of Obi-Wan's favorite moments to find peace these last few months or... has it been years? Time has melted together through this dreary drudge of a war.

He's watched this sky transition from dusky purples splashed with rays of golden sunlight to a pale blue canvas with clouds shadowed with purples leaning grey and highlights of soft pinks and yellows.

"Sir," a very familiar voice calls from behind. 

Obi-Wan turns towards the voice. 

'Ah,' Obi-Wan thinks, a smile already beginning to emerge on his features, 'my dearest commander.'

The light of the sky washes Cody in diffused golds and pinks. He is delightfully dressed down, forgoing his armour from the waist up. The tight, ribbed fabric does his physique all the favors the way it clings. A stray curl drops onto his forehead. The lighting does wonders for his complexion. It's as if he's glowing.

Yes, Cody bathed in the light of a new day is the most breathtaking, glorious view of them all.

"Missing something?" Cody wiggles a certain lightsaber in his hand as he closes the distance of only a couple meters. 

"More than one thing, it seems," Obi-Wan replies as he takes the lightsaber held out to him. The metal is heated from the rare touch of Cody's bare hand. Energy thrums from the kyber, a slow pulse that nearly sparkles, sending the residual heat of skin and life up Obi-Wan's arm, straight to his ever beating heart. 

So helpful his kyber crystal is, giving fuel to the flame of his infatuation that, once a slow burn, is steadily alight.

Cody leans back against the pillar, looks at him with those warm, big brown eyes of his and oh…

Obi-Wan steps into Cody's space.

Cody's sharp inhale and the way his hand comes up to touch Obi-Wan's belly is exactly what he wanted. 

Obi-Wan rests his arm beside Cody's head on the stone, bringing his face close enough to just feel Cody's breath on the whiskers of his beard.

Thick, black lashes fluttering downwards then back up. The want in those gorgeous eyes is magnetizing.

Obeying Cody's gravitational pull, Obi-Wan kisses him. The catch of their lips slow and tender, just a hint of saliva and suction, loving the warm nudge of Cody's nose against his cheek, and the bloom of Cody's Force presence like flowers turning to the morning sun. 

"Well done," Obi-Wan murmurs as he pulls away, chasing the wounded noise Cody makes with a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "Your performance was stellar today, as always. Always."

Obi-Wan clips his lightsaber to his belt and cups his darling's jaw with his newly freed hand. He sighs into the meeting of their lips. The soft warm comfort of Cody's mouth is offset by the rigidity of his armour below the waist. It’s as accurate a representation of Cody’s true self as it gets: compassionate and sweet while still deadly and unwieldy.

Though, as much as Obi-Wan adores this version of Cody—so delectable in only his codpiece, cuisse, and greaves—he’d selfishly prefer him stripped even further. 

Alas, he's getting ahead of himself.

Cody's arms curl around him, hands clenching in his tabards. Their lips make smacking noises with the separation of each slow, deliberate kiss.

It's with a bittersweet ache in his chest that Obi-Wan cherishes these moments for he never knows what the next day will bring. The reality of war is that any second of any day he could lose Cody and he'll never know another day painted warm and vibrant by Cody's dry humor and barely-there smiles, the rare times when Obi-Wan can make him really laugh and hear joy spring from his soul, the quiet steady companionship of his presence, and the compassion he shows his brothers. One day he'll never know another kiss, another pleasure coated sigh of his own name, or feel the needy way Cody curves his entire body into Obi-Wan’s to get what he wants. 

It is possible that Obi-Wan would be the one to go first but… he knows deep down, and has accepted it with peace, that he's meant for infinite sadness. 

He already nearly lost him that first time- the time Cody first kissed him.

However long Cody is willing to share these hidden pockets of love with him, he will cherish every second they have together.

He emphasizes this thought with a purposeful tug and suck of Cody’s bottom lip before pulling away to breathe. The thinner air at this altitude has them panting against each other, lips grazing slightly, a sensitive tingly, ticklish tease.

Cody rubs their noses together, as if trying to grasp any sort of intimacy he can while recovering his breath.

Obi-Wan’s heart squeezes painfully.

Never let it be said lest Cody try to kill him in his sleep… but Cody is not just a sweet, sweet man but adorable.

 Natural as the mist of cloudy mornings, Obi-Wan kisses him again. 

Everything about this is intentional. From the way he slowly draws their mouths together again and again, pace languid and savoring, to the way they've chosen each other- chosen to find these moments to do nothing but love. It's not a choice, really, that they will choose duty over each other if that's what it comes to. That's simply the reality of their existences. Those priorities will never change, not with how the war has molded them into thinking. 

No, the choosing is in the love. 

He does love Cody and perhaps always will. It's not been said. Nor does he know with absolute certainty that Cody feels the same.

Cody's presence in the Force has always been a bit of a comfort for Obi-Wan since they met. Through all the uncertainty and pain in the galaxy, Cody is sturdy and shines. He's not certain when Cody’s signature began emanating a warmth that curls into his chest and makes him feel at home. It could be that with time and the development of Obi-Wan's own feelings, every aspect of Cody became beyond endearing.

Or… it could be the manifestation of Cody's own feelings for Obi-Wan.

He's not certain. And he's very well not going to ask.

It doesn't matter. It doesn't.

Still, he catches quick moments sometimes out the corner of his eye where Cody looks at him with an impossibly soft look on his face and Obi-Wan thinks, 'Maybe-’

Really. It doesn't matter. 

He has Cody so readily in the cradle of his arms, drinking up every milliliter of affection bestowed upon him.

And, well, his train of thought falls to the wayside when Cody moans into his mouth and tries to drag him even closer between the v of his legs. 

He's not sure exactly what he’s done to make Cody react so positively but he goes with the motion as heat burns deep in his abdomen.

He teases at Cody's lips with his tongue and realizes his fault when Cody instantly opens his mouth and deepens the kiss. The inside of Cody's mouth is hot and wet and his tongue- licking all those spots that make Obi-Wan shudder into him. 

Not that it's not lovely—because it is, really—but this is not how he intended things to go. 

Cody's insistent against him, pressing for more, hotter, faster, harder.

With difficulty, Obi-Wan pulls away, dodging Cody's attempts to meld their mouths together. 

“Cody, dearheart,” he says, out of breath, thumb gently stroking the skin by the corner of Cody's mouth, “you don't need to devour me.”

Cody doesn't quite pout but it's a near thing. The way his eyes are glued to Obi-Wan's lips make tooka-eyes impossible. “Remains to be seen.”

Obi-Wan huffs a laugh and kisses his cheek. “Please, my-” he catches himself almost saying ‘love’, “dear. Just for now. Let me treat you softly.”

Cody considers this solemnly. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

He nods.

Obi-Wan smiles. “Good man.”

The bob of Cody's throat at his words is gratifying. 

He closes his eyes and leans back in to capture Cody's lips for a few slow, lingering kisses. 

“That’s it. Easy goes,” Obi-Wan murmurs between kisses. Cody melts underneath him, pliant and accepting. 

He'll take every rare opportune moment to treat Cody like the indulgence he is– truly savor him. Hot plush lips between his own, a smooth glide aided by saliva. Slow and steady. Discovering how electric and titillating the simplicity is. Just Cody's warm body against his own. Cody's lips. Cody's sighs. Cody…

He's the sweetest of luxuries. And he should be cherished accordingly. 

Obi-Wan plants a path of kisses up Cody's cheek, right to the end of his brow, following the raised skin of his facial scar.

He's wondered if anyone else has gotten to love Cody like he has or if he's the only one to ply him with tender affection. He's wondered if, in a kinder universe, Cody would be left free of the scars Obi-Wan has gotten to know so intimately. If there were a universe as such, would Obi-Wan be given the chance to love Cody all over again or if another is destined for him- someone closer to his age and able to devote their life to ensuring his happiness.

He's tied himself into knots over this. The hypotheticals. 

He loves Cody. He loves him easily, unhurried and unconditionally. He loves him with every breath he shares loving the Jedi Order—his family—and this wonderous Force-filled world they live in. 

It's just that. He does not love Cody more than the order, more than his faith and his family. Cody is a part of his life. Whatever comes next, may it be death or freedom or- well, Force knows what, Obi-Wan hopes Cody remains a constant. Selfishly. More than a little lovesick. He wants Cody in his life. But he will accept whatever comes their way, as it is the will of the Force. 

 And if that means-

“Where'd’ya keep going?” asks Cody, big brown eyes of his gazing into Obi-Wan's soulfully. A deep brown that melts into a warm, rich amber. Beautiful.

“Nowhere of consequence.” He rubs his nose along Cody’s cheek. Breathes him in. 

“You sure?”

Obi-Wan drags his lips down Cody's jaw, smiling to himself and settling in once Cody shudders and angles his head out of the way.

“Absolutely certain,” Obi-Wan murmurs against his pulse point then kisses that very same spot.

A sigh from Cody is just the encouragement Obi-Wan needs to continue on. 

It's a gift having Cody so sensitive and wanting under him. An entirely different side of his commander than the stern, regal demeanor their troopers see day in and out. 

He kisses and sucks and nips the column of Cody's neck, delighting in the small, pleased noises he draws from Cody with every pass of his mouth over salty skin. 

He only leaves a couple of marks by the time Cody tugs him upwards. He's not too dismayed to leave the warm crook of his love’s neck because the expression on Cody's face is nothing short of wanton, absolutely debauched. 

Cody’s lips are still plump and kiss bitten. 

Obi-Wan can't resist. He traces the pad of his thumb across Cody's bottom lip. Breath shakes onto skin and Cody's mouth closes around the digit, suctioning him in hot, wet heat. 

He draws in a sharp breath.

His gaze darts to Cody’s eyes where he meets pupils blown wide with desire. Cody stares unflinchingly, daring and, oh… 

Cody has bewitched him, utterly and completely. Try as he might to retain composure, Cody is his undoing in these moments. The fragile strings of his heart (and… other parts of his anatomy…) pulled taut and ready to spring forward.

He wanted to keep it slow and soft, but Cody knows just how to arm him into an arrow ready to spring forth.

He pops his thumb from Cody's mouth and fixes his mouth and lips there instead, letting him know just how affected he is. He tastes Cody’s own desire echoed back to him in his moans and tongue and the needy press of his body that Obi-Wan keeps caged to the pillar. The fists that grab at his tunic and hair to try and get him even closer.

The high altitude forces them apart to breathe sooner than either of them would like but they don't go far, nuzzling noses and panting against one another's lips. 

“We’d better take this back to The Negotiator,” Cody says quietly, still out of breath.

Obi-Wan nods his agreement, sure that if they stay here a minute longer he'll be on his knees.

Hand in hand, they hurry away and the sunrise grows only brighter, pink tones making way for the brilliance of the full sun. Clouds drift with the breeze and all is as it will be.

[brodygold]

Twelve Days of Christmas: Day Six

On the sixth day of Christmas, my true love gave to me: six geese-a-laying.

The six men groaned as they stirred awake, their minds clouded and bodies feeling weightless. Each found himself encased in a smooth, glowing, golden egg-shaped pod. The interior was warm and oddly comforting, yet tinged with a metallic hum that resonated through their bones. The pods were suspended in a vast chamber illuminated by radiant beams of gold light that crisscrossed the space like a spider’s web.

For Daniel, the fog in his mind cleared just enough to recall a snippet of memory. It was December, the crisp winter air biting at his face as he and his friends huddled around their table at the diner. Christmas lights twinkled outside the frosted windows, and the smell of cinnamon and pine filled the air. A figure had approached their table—a tall man in a golden soccer jersey, his smile disarmingly bright.

“Want an early Christmas present?” the man had asked, holding up a small golden box. The six friends exchanged curious glances. David had been the first to laugh, joking about it being a pyramid scheme, but their curiosity got the better of them. They each accepted a small golden trinket from the man, its surface warm to the touch. “Trust me,” the man had said, his grin widening, “it’ll change your life.”

Daniel’s head throbbed as the memory faded, replaced by the reality of his current predicament. He pressed his palms against the translucent interior of his pod. A flicker of panic darted across his face as he struggled to make sense of what had happened. The last thing he remembered after the diner was holding the trinket and feeling a sudden wave of dizziness. Now, here he was, encased in this strange cocoon.

“What the… where am I?” he muttered, his voice muffled. He pressed harder against the walls of the pod, the smooth surface cool under his fingertips. Through the golden sheen, he could barely make out the shapes of five other pods, each glowing softly like his own.

“Guys? Are you there?” Daniel called out, his voice trembling. A muffled chorus of confused and frightened responses came from the other pods.

“What is this place?” “I can’t get out!” “Calm down! Let’s think!”

David, a lanky programmer with glasses perpetually sliding down his nose, was in the pod closest to Daniel. He tried to steady his breathing, but the growing sense of dread was impossible to ignore. The chamber around them felt vast, infinite even, the golden beams of light crisscrossing endlessly above. Suddenly, a faint hissing sound caught his attention. He turned to see a golden mist beginning to seep into his pod. It swirled around him, carrying an oddly sweet, metallic scent that filled his lungs.

“What is this stuff?” David choked, pressing himself against the back of the pod to escape the mist. But there was no escape; it was everywhere. The mist wasn’t just filling the pod—it was invading his body, his mind. A wave of warmth began to spread through him, soothing his initial panic. His glasses fogged up as his breathing slowed, his limbs going slack. Somewhere in the fog, a voice whispered.

“You have been chosen for greatness. For the Golden Army.”

The words reverberated in David’s head, erasing his fear and filling him with a strange sense of purpose. He blinked, his glasses slipping from his face as they dissolved into the mist. Shocked, he realized he could see clearly for the first time in years. His vision sharpened, his surroundings coming into focus with an almost supernatural clarity. The voice grew louder, more insistent.

“Shed your past. Embrace your new self.”

David’s body began to tingle, starting at his fingertips. His once-thin, spindly fingers thickened, his nails becoming perfectly trimmed. The transformation traveled up his arms, the bony appendages filling out with firm, sculpted muscle. His shoulders broadened, pushing against the pod walls as they expanded into a powerful V-shape. The golden mist seemed to seep directly into his skin, turning it smooth and glowing with vitality.

His torso convulsed as his ribs and spine realigned. Years of poor posture were corrected in seconds, his chest swelling into a broad, muscular expanse. Abs rippled to the surface, carving themselves into a flawless six-pack. David gasped as his neck thickened, his Adam’s apple becoming more pronounced, his voice deepening with each breath.

The changes continued down his legs. His stick-thin thighs ballooned with muscle, calves becoming rock-solid pillars of strength. Even his feet grew larger, more proportional to his now-athletic frame. A pair of golden cleats materialized on them, glinting in the light.

David’s head tilted back as the mist concentrated around his face. His jawline sharpened, cheeks hollowing slightly to reveal high cheekbones. His nerdy, unkempt hair receded briefly before surging back as a short, stylish cut. The mist reshaped his features into those of a rugged, handsome athlete—a face designed to exude confidence and charm.

As the physical changes completed, David’s mind underwent its own transformation. The golden mist didn’t just enhance his body; it rewrote his identity. His memories of coding marathons and late-night gaming sessions faded, replaced by visions of intense soccer matches and roaring crowds. His love for data and algorithms was replaced with an insatiable passion for the game and an unwavering loyalty to the Golden Army.

The pod opened with a hiss, and David stepped out onto the gleaming golden floor, his movements fluid and powerful. He looked down at himself, admiring the golden soccer jersey that now adorned his muscular frame. A dumb grin spread across his face.

“Whoa, dudes,” David said, his deepened voice brimming with excitement. “I feel, like, totally awesome. My muscles are huge! And, uh… what was I saying? Oh yeah! I’m, like, totally jacked now!”

He flexed his biceps, staring at them in awe. “Man, I used to think about, like, nerd stuff or whatever, but now all I can think about is kickin’ balls into goals and crushin’ it at the gym!”

The other pods began to hum louder, the golden mist swirling more intensely. Daniel, still trapped in his pod, watched in horror as David stepped out, transformed into a towering jock. He banged on the walls of his pod, his heart racing.

“What’s happening to us?” Daniel shouted, his voice cracking with fear.

Inside Daniel’s pod, the mist surged forward, wrapping around him in thick, golden tendrils. He coughed and struggled, pressing himself against the back of the pod. “No! I don’t want this! Please, stop!” But his protests were swallowed by the mist as it invaded his lungs, his body going limp as the warmth spread through him.

The transformation began at his hands, his slender fingers thickening, veins popping as muscle wrapped around his forearms. His arms bulked up, his shoulders widening to a proportion that strained the edges of the pod. His chest heaved as his ribcage expanded, pecs pushing forward into a solid, chiseled form. He could feel his stomach tightening, fat melting away to reveal a defined six-pack.

Daniel’s legs stretched, his thighs swelling with power as his calves reshaped into the muscular foundation of a professional athlete. His scrawny frame was replaced with a body that radiated strength and vitality. His sneakers dissolved into golden cleats, perfectly fitted to his new, larger feet.

The mist enveloped his head, and Daniel whimpered as his features began to shift. His jawline squared, his nose straightened, and his hair shortened into a stylish, sporty cut. His glasses disintegrated, his vision sharpening as though he had never needed them. His skin glowed with health, his face now the epitome of athletic confidence.

Inside his mind, Daniel felt his memories being erased, his identity rewritten. Thoughts of books, strategy games, and his quiet life were replaced by visions of roaring crowds, locker room camaraderie, and the thrill of scoring goals. His protests turned into dumb chuckles as his intellect dulled, his new personality taking over.

“Aw, man, this feels… amazing!” Daniel said, stepping out of his pod. He flexed his arms, laughing. “I’m, like, so huge now! And… uh, what was I worried about? Oh yeah, nothin’! I just wanna crush it on the field, dudes!”

The remaining friends, still in their pods, screamed and banged against the walls as they witnessed Daniel’s transformation. But one by one, the golden mist claimed them too, reshaping their bodies and minds into loyal members of the Golden Army.

When the final pod opened, the six transformed men stood together, their muscular frames glistening under the golden light. They exchanged dumbfounded grins, their minds alight with simple thoughts of victory and camaraderie.

“Bro, this is sick!” Ian exclaimed, flexing his biceps. “I’ve never felt so strong!”

“Yeah, man, like, I can’t wait to crush it on the field,” Chris added, cracking his knuckles.

“Let’s go, bros! We’re gonna dominate!” Tommy said, pumping his fist.

David chimed in, laughing as he patted Ian on the back. “Dude, I don’t even know what I was thinkin’ about before, but now it’s like… all I wanna do is hit the gym and, like, totally smash some goals, ya know?”

“Totally, bro!” Marcus said, slapping his hands together. “Let’s get swole and show everyone what the Golden Army’s made of!”

Above the chamber, in a hidden observation deck, a figure watched the scene unfold. Brody, clad in his own golden jersey, smirked as the transformation process completed.

“Perfect,” he murmured to himself. “They’ll make excellent additions to the team.”

Brody’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction. It had been his idea to bring these six here, to reshape them into champions who would bring further glory to the Golden Army. He turned to the console and pressed a button, speaking into a microphone.

“Alright, recruits. Time to hit the gym. Let’s see what those new bodies can do.”

The six jocks erupted in cheers, their simple minds thrilled at the prospect of pushing their limits.

“Hell yeah, let’s get swole, bros!”

Thanks to my good friend @hypnozys for help with some of the photos!

If you're interested in joining the Golden Army for real, contact me, @goldenherc9 or @polo-drone-001

[quitealotofsodapop]

I was re-reading the baby being introduced to the Courts and Red mentions that he and Xiaotian are legally married. When did they decide to do that? I'm imagining after the pillar when Red confesses his feelings he also proposes because go big or go home, right?

(Xiaojiao pointed out that Red had made it so he and Xiaotian were kinda having a baby together, which is like the biggest commitment already, but Red ignored her.)

Prev.

The "celestial legal marriage" happened in the months leading up to Haoyu's birth + after the confessions at the Pillar. Once it became clear to Xiwangmu that these two crazy kids were in it for the long haul - she started planning a real royal wedding.

As for "demon legal marriage" happened... even before Red confessed his feelings!

You see; demon courtship may involve a lot of kidnapping and fighting your future in-laws for their approval (something that spicynoodles has already done unintentionally), but it's not a one-sided street. The target of affection gets some pretty big say in the matter.

Kui Mulang, for example, is hated by demon and celestial communities alike for forcing a demonic marriage upon Princess Baihauxing without her consent. In demon customs, if the Princess had said "hell no." thats end of discussion. She has to be let go and returned to her clan. The Wood Wolf did not do this, and instead kept her captive and made her sire two children with him without any outside contact. Not many upstanding demons would defend him.

In Spicynoodles case; The confessions and commitment wasn't one-sided leading up to their confessions at the Pillar...

After the Xiwangmu (and the posthumous Jade Emperor) recognised Red Son as her grandchild - lots of demon clans and celestial noble houses came to the Demon Bull Clan with prospective marriage arrangements. Prospects that increased with intensity and hostility when rumours of the Bull Prince having a pregnant sweetie started rolling around the Realms.

A smokin' hot regal demon frequently tries to insert themselves into Red's personal bubble. Red is hesitant to swat them away due to recognising them as being highly-connected.

Mei isn't as passive, loudly telling the demon to get lost. She becomes more firm when MK is nearby, her demeanour much like a dragon protecting a gravid littermate.

One day the prospective suitor makes one huge mistake; attempting to courtnap Red Son.

It's a real crap show.

Somehow the suitor got their hands on some Binding-Gold Rope, pretty much lasso'ed Red Son and ran like a villain in an old timey western film. Red is angrily spitting his rejection at the Suitor, making clear that he wants nothing to do with this courtship!

The Suitor ignores the prince's demands.

Now it's getting serious.

Mei leaps forward with her sword, trying to keep up with Red Son and his captor. Before she can shoot off a burst of Samadhi Fire, another voice roars out;

MK: "BACK OFF! THEY'RE NOT YOURS!" (*MK is running after them in full golden kaiju-monkey glory. His stomach still protruding with the Stone Egg*) Red Son, blushing pink flames: "Noodle Boy?! When did you get-" The Suitor, cowering: "Nobody told me they were taken! Honest!" MK: (*Looms over the Suitor before smashing their vehicle like it's a soda can. Picks up Red Son and bites the Rope off of him. Gives Mei the scraps of rope*) Mei, surprised but understanding: "I'll deal with the trash disposal." (*Mei turns the rope into impromptu handcuffs*) Mei, gloating: "There! I've already been streaming this rescue to the rest of the crew, so you about to be cancelled! Right, guys...? Guys?" MK, still in Kaiju-form: (*loud purring noises as he nuzzles Red Son to his face*) Red Son, almost magenta red with blush: "I don't think he's in the mood for conversation!"

The rest of the gang finally arrive as backup; only to see Red safe in Kaiju!MK's arms, and the attempted court-napper completely humiliated.

Macaque, chuckling: "Oh ho ho! I've seen this before!" Pigsy: "Huh? Where?" Macaque, fond smile: "Tieshan - when she was pregnant with Red. If you think a demon can be possessive of their mate, you haven't seen a pregnant one think someone is trying to take them away." Tang, lore-thought: "OH! Like the Jade Faced Princess..?" Macaque: "Yep. Old friend of the gang. Jade Face asked Bull to help fake a marriage licence so she could claim her father's inheritance, and Iron Fan, well... she didn't take it well. Only time she's ever used her kaiju form, actually. Best thing to do is let MK calm down, and he'll return to normal size. Though he'll act a little feral for a bit." Pigsy, dreading: "How long is a bit?" Macaque: "Eh. Depends. Tieshan wouldn't let Bull out of her sight for a whole week." Red Son, thinking: "A week wouldn't be so bad. Or a few weeks even."

MK refuses to stop clinging to Red Son, even after he's returned to his regular form. He's just buried his face in Red's neck and hair, pressing his round stomach against him as a heat pack. Full nesting-mode.

Red has no true complaints about the situation.

Especially since MK has pretty much, in his feral rage, reverse-courtnapped Red Son from the Suitor.

Red Son hopes MK isn't so oblivious to not realise what he's done. (hint: he is).

When news gets back to PIF and DBK about what's happening; they both share a knowing look with one another. MK may be the successor of their old fre-enemy, but he's far better a potential in-law than any mock-title demon from an uncouth new-money clan.

PIF: "This is why I declined all of those marriage arrangements for Red Son. Clearly, the Noodle Boy has already staked his claim." DBK, nodding: "And our child has accepted the proposal in his own way. It would be hypocritical to deny him a loving mate." PIF: "One who's already providing us with a potential heir, too." DBK, tail wagging happily: "The Little Thief has shared the ultrasound photos."

So by demon standards, Red Son and MK are already married before they even fully confess towards one another!

Mei demands to host a mock bachelor party.