#the it/its butterfly groom

[novaursa]

Web of Gold (royal wedding)

- Summary: Alicent could only watch as you handle her son like a lioness who plays with her food.

- Pairing: lannister!reader/Aegon II Targaryen (+Aemond Targaryen?)

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: aegon is jealous

- Next part: honeymoon

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround @purple-1995 @thisbiann @whiteoakoak

- A/N: The last part was skipping from present to past. I forgot to mention that. It has been fixed now.

The grand hall of the Red Keep has never looked so splendid. Golden tapestries hang from the walls, catching the light from the myriad of candles that bathe the room in a warm, shimmering glow. The floors are strewn with rich red and gold carpets, their colors a perfect match for the union taking place today—a union that has the blood of the dragon and the wealth of the lion entwined.

Your wedding to King Aegon II is nothing short of a spectacle. All of the nobility of Westeros is in attendance, their finery dazzling, but none more so than the families of the bride and groom. The Hightowers and the Lannisters are well represented, their seats in the front rows filled with dignified faces that watch every movement with keen interest.

At the head of it all stands Aegon, his usually unruly silver hair smoothed back for the occasion, though he still carries that familiar smirk as if he's already thinking about the revelry that will follow. He’s dressed in a regal black and red ensemble that reflects his Targaryen heritage, but with touches of gold embroidery—no doubt a nod to your Lannister lineage. As you approach down the aisle, his eyes are fixed solely on you, and his smirk softens into something more genuine, more admiring.

You, in turn, glide down the aisle with all the grace expected of a Lannister bride. Your gown is a masterpiece, shimmering gold and crimson silk, with intricate embroidery that mimics the flames of dragons and the roaring lions of your house. The entire court seems to hold its breath as you make your way toward Aegon, your steps light and confident, a smile playing at your lips.

Behind you, your uncles, the infamous Lannister twins, Tyland and Jason, follow with their usual contrasting expressions. Tyland, ever the composed and political one, watches the proceedings with an air of satisfaction, knowing how well this match bodes for the Lannister name. Jason, on the other hand, appears more relaxed, casting admiring glances around the hall and clearly enjoying the pomp and grandeur of it all. He leans over to Tyland at one point, whispering something, likely a comment on the opulence of the Red Keep, which Tyland responds to with a curt nod, his face impassive.

At the altar, Dowager Queen Alicent stands beside Otto Hightower, her father, both of them watching the ceremony with varying degrees of restraint. Alicent’s expression is one of controlled politeness, though there’s a tightness around her eyes that betrays her discomfort. She still hasn’t entirely warmed to the idea of her beloved son marrying someone who so effortlessly draws his attention away from her. Otto, however, seems entirely pleased, his hands folded neatly in front of him, his sharp eyes scanning the room as if mentally counting the alliances being forged today.

Aemond stands beside his brother, his face a mask of impassivity, though you know him well enough by now to catch the faint flicker of amusement in his eye. No doubt he finds the spectacle of Aegon getting married as something of an ironic twist, considering how hard Aegon fought to maintain his so-called "freedom." Aemond’s hand rests lightly on the hilt of his sword, as always, a silent reminder of his ever-watchful nature.

Helaena is there too, her dreamy expression focused on something far beyond the festivities, though she smiles softly when you pass her by. She’s dressed in a lovely gown of pale blue, her hair adorned with delicate silver ornaments shaped like butterflies. She murmurs something to herself, perhaps a quiet blessing for your future, though it’s impossible to tell for sure.

As you finally reach Aegon’s side, the High Septon Eustace begins the ceremonial words, his voice echoing through the hall. You can feel the eyes of the court on you, but your focus remains on Aegon, who is staring at you with a look that’s equal parts admiration and barely restrained mischief. His hand, warm and steady, slips into yours as you both face the High Septon, the weight of the crown on your head a constant reminder of the power this union represents.

“Do you, Aegon Targaryen, take Y/N of House Lannister to be your lawful wife, to honor and protect, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?” the High Septon intones.

Aegon’s grin spreads wide across his face, a flash of amusement dancing in his eyes. “I do,” he says, his voice rich with confidence, though there’s a playful edge to it that makes it clear he’s already thinking of what comes after the ceremony.

“And do you, Y/N of House Lannister, take Aegon Targaryen to be your lawful husband, to honor and stand beside, in sickness and in health, until death do you part?”

You meet Aegon’s gaze, the room around you momentarily fading as you reply, “I do.”

The High Septon raises his hands in blessing, proclaiming you husband and wife, and the hall erupts in applause. Aegon, ever the dramatic, doesn’t wait for the formal conclusion before leaning in to kiss you, his hands cupping your face as if you’re the only person in the room. The kiss is bold, full of the reckless passion Aegon is known for, and the court watches with varying degrees of approval and amusement.

Tyland and Jason exchange glances, Jason stifling a chuckle while Tyland remains impassive, though his eyes gleam with pride. They know the political weight of this match—House Lannister is now further entwined with the crown, and their power has only grown.

Alicent, however, watches the display with barely concealed annoyance, her lips pressed into a tight smile. She claps politely, though there’s a stiffness to her movements, a reminder that, in her mind, no one could ever truly be good enough for her precious son. Otto, on the other hand, seems entirely pleased, his eyes flicking toward Alicent as if to gauge her reaction, though he remains composed.

Aemond watches the kiss with a raised brow, a flicker of bemusement crossing his features. He shifts slightly, as though resisting the urge to roll his eye, though a small smirk tugs at the corner of his lips.

The rest of the court stands, applauding as you and Aegon turn to face them, now husband and wife. You can feel the weight of expectation on your shoulders, but you stand tall, regal, with Aegon by your side. The cheers of the courtiers fill the hall, a cacophony of voices celebrating your union, and for a moment, it feels as though you and Aegon have already won over the entire kingdom.

As the feast begins, Jason Lannister raises his goblet in a loud toast. “To King Aegon and his golden bride! May their union bring strength to the realm!” His voice booms across the hall, earning cheers and nods of approval from the Lannisters in attendance.

Aegon, never one to miss an opportunity to revel in attention, raises his own goblet and smirks at you. “And may she forever spoil me with her affection, wine, and… other delights.”

The court erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but laugh too, casting a glance at Aemond, whose eye twitches in amusement, though he’s quick to hide it behind another sip of wine.

The night is long, filled with feasting, laughter, and the clinking of goblets as alliances are silently solidified with every toast. And as the evening draws on, you and Aegon bask in the glow of your new roles—King and Queen, dragon and lion, forever entwined in the history of Westeros.

The grand feast is in full swing. Laughter echoes off the vaulted ceilings of the Red Keep’s great hall, the clink of goblets and the shuffle of servants bringing more trays of roasted meats, fruits, and breads filling the space. At the high table, you sit next to Aegon, who is already well on his way to being pleasantly drunk. His cheeks are flushed, his laughter a little too loud, and every so often, he leans in to whisper something entirely inappropriate in your ear—something about what he intends to do later, no doubt—but you smile and nod, indulging him.

Across the table, Helaena sits quietly, her dreamy eyes fixed on the flickering candlelight as if it holds secrets only she can see. She picks absentmindedly at her plate, her fingers twirling a piece of bread like it's a delicate piece of embroidery. You catch her eye and smile warmly.

"Helaena," you say softly, leaning toward her, "are you enjoying the feast?"

She blinks, her gaze shifting to you as if coming back to the present from some distant dream. Her lips curve into a small, sweet smile. "It’s beautiful," she murmurs, her voice barely above a whisper. "But the butterflies… they’re dancing too close to the fire."

You pause, tilting your head, unsure whether she’s speaking in metaphors or if this is just one of Helaena’s usual cryptic musings. Either way, you smile back. “I’ll be sure to keep an eye on the butterflies, then.”

She giggles softly, her fingers finally releasing the bread as she takes a sip from her goblet. There’s something endearing about Helaena, her quiet innocence standing in contrast to the rowdy festivities around her. You find her company refreshing—though you’re well aware that others find her eccentric nature unsettling.

As you pour another cup of wine for Aegon, who is now thoroughly engaged in a one-sided conversation with Ser Criston about something involving dragons (though Criston’s blank stare suggests he’s only pretending to listen), you feel a sharp gaze on you. Without even looking, you know it’s Alicent.

You glance up to find her watching you with that familiar tight-lipped expression of disapproval. Her hands are clasped so tightly in her lap that her knuckles have gone white. It’s clear she doesn’t appreciate the way you cater to Aegon’s whims, particularly when it involves filling his goblet over and over. But tonight, she says nothing, her lips pressed into a thin, sour line as she watches you with silent judgment.

You flash her a smile, sweet as honey, and deliberately pour Aegon’s cup a little fuller than necessary, making sure the wine sloshes right to the rim. He grins up at you with a sloppy, grateful smile, lifting his goblet with an exaggerated flourish.

“Ah, my perfect queen!” Aegon slurs, raising the cup in a toast that sends a bit of wine splashing over the side. “Always knows exactly what I need.”

You pat his hand and nod, biting back a laugh. “Yes, my love. Always.”

Alicent’s expression tightens even further, but she still says nothing, clearly choosing to hold her tongue rather than cause a scene at such a grand occasion. Her frustration, however, is palpable.

With Aegon now thoroughly distracted by his wine and the increasingly nonsensical conversation with Ser Criston, you take the opportunity to slip away for a moment. The noise of the feast dulls slightly as you move toward the quieter end of the hall, where Aemond stands, ever the watchful observer, his gaze scanning the room like a hawk searching for prey. He doesn’t sit—Aemond never seems to relax the way Aegon does. Instead, he stands with a goblet of wine in hand, his tall frame as rigid and poised as ever.

As you approach, he glances at you, his single eye cool but alert, that faint smirk already playing on his lips as if he knows exactly why you’ve come.

“Your husband looks quite… spirited this evening,” Aemond says, his voice low and smooth. His gaze flickers to where Aegon is now halfway through another story, clearly embellishing the details for the benefit of anyone still bothering to listen.

You chuckle, standing beside him, your fingers brushing the stem of your own goblet. “Yes, well, that’s to be expected, isn’t it? A wedding and an endless supply of wine—it’s a dangerous combination for Aegon.”

Aemond’s lips twitch with amusement. “Dangerous for him, perhaps. More tiresome for the rest of us.”

You raise your goblet slightly, giving him a sidelong glance. “I suppose you’re used to enduring such… tiresome things, aren’t you, Aemond?”

His eye narrows slightly, a knowing glint in it. “I endure what I must. Though some things…” He pauses, his gaze lingering on you for a fraction longer than necessary, “are more tolerable than others.”

You hum in response, your lips curving into a small, playful smile. “How kind of you to say. And here I thought you preferred your solitude over any company.”

Aemond sips his wine, his eye never leaving yours. “Solitude has its merits. But there are certain… exceptions.”

The weight of his words hangs in the air between you, subtle but unmistakable. You glance back toward Aegon, who is now attempting to stand, swaying slightly as he raises his goblet in yet another toast, clearly drunk beyond reason. The sight is both amusing and pitiful, and you can’t help but feel a pang of sympathy for your new husband. But at the same time, the pull of Aemond’s presence is undeniable, the tension between you two thickening with every passing second.

“And would I be one of those exceptions?” you ask softly, turning your attention back to Aemond. Your tone is light, teasing, but there’s a sharper edge beneath it.

Aemond’s smirk deepens, his gaze darkening as he lowers his goblet. He steps closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “You already know the answer to that.”

Your heart quickens, but you keep your expression neutral, unwilling to give too much away. This dance between you and Aemond has been ongoing for some time—never spoken of directly, never acted upon, but always there, clawing just beneath the surface. And tonight, with Aegon too drunk to notice, the tension feels sharper than ever.

Before you can respond, Aegon’s voice cuts through the room, loud and slurred. “Y/N! Where are you, my queen? Come! We must… celebrate!”

You bite back a laugh, casting Aemond a glance that’s equal parts amused and exasperated. “Duty calls,” you say, stepping away with a sigh.

Aemond’s eye follows you as you move back toward Aegon, the weight of his gaze lingering on you like a silent promise.

[glamourscat]

tim drake anon here. could you please do the sfw alphabet? or maybe (scandalous!) the nsfw one? 🫣

୨ৎ Tim Drake NSFW Alphabet

a/n: tim drake anon i absolutely adore u. i decided to do the nsfw first, cause why not ;) but the sfw is also coming out soon!! - if you want, dm me so i can tag you for the upcoming one!

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Needy for kisses, for reassurance, for contact, for touches. Especially if you took charge, yep, rest assured he will want to be cuddled. Viceversa, if he was the one to be in control, he would kiss your neck, cuddle you and praise you to the moon and back. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

I have said it here, But his favourite part of himself is his hands. For being a vigilante they are not overly calloused, strangely enough. His fingers are long and delicate, marked by only a few old white scars. He is not happy if he doesn’t make you finish at least twice with his fingers alone.

On his partner? I feel he would strongly enjoy anything he can rest on. Butt, chest, thick legs, tummy… anything he can squeeze honestly lol. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Boring i know, but i feel, he would be low key not into the mess. Unless he is finishing inside, and even then he is not a super fan –when he does it to people, because when and if he receives it is another story– he would probably just finish in the condom

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Roleplay. I know, I know. Hear me out. During his 90s run, he is seen playing “Warlocks and Warriors”, which is extremely similar to Dungeons & Dragons. With his nerdy ass you bet he would be into some mystical roleplays. Wizard and elf? Witch and lost traveler? I cannot take myself seriously while i am writing this part lmao. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He is a scrawny grimelin nerd and canonically had a few relationships. Its the loser’s charm. Still, just because he had relationships, doesn’t mean he actually has a lot of experience. I feel he has a good grasp of what to do obviously. But there are a lot of things left to explore still.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl, both for you and him, doggy, both for you and him. And good old missionary. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I wouldn’t say he is straight up serious. He is concentrated, for sure. He wouldn’t crack up jokes, but, maybe you two bump heads or something worth to be flustered about happens and then you two find yourself giggling together. So, it’s definitely not a ‘serious’ vibe, it’s more a chill, relax one

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He can’t grow hair at all. Like, barely. He probably has a bit of hair down there, but nothing so extensive for him to even shave. A faint happy trail though can be found

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Depends on the occasion. Anniversary, bdays or something of the sort? it's romantic. The kisses drag on for longer, moans will be louder and aftercare will last quite a while.

On a normal day however, he is still romantic, but it's less intense.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not necessarily. He would if you two haven’t seen each other in so long and he is hit with the need to release, but otherwise, he doesn’t really care

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

being dominated, possibly into femdom? praises, worship, foreplay, phone sex, sending pictures --but also taking physical ones together. Hair pulling, slow/sleepy sex, fingering, pegging, edging, hickies.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your guys’ bedroom or, guilty pleasure, his office ;)

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Honestly little things. A massage, a gentle caress, butterfly kisses. But most of all taking care of him. Making him take a break, showering together, caressing his abs and back and he is gone

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything with the risk of hurting you or him

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

prefers receive, because like i have said previously, he likes to use his fingers more. I would say he is definetly skilled though and won't passed the chance to go down on you if needed

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

A mix. On him he prefers fast, deep and hard. When he is in control though, he would mix it up from slow and deep to fast and rough

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Nope. It's all in or all out. He wouldn't mind only doing foreplay, but a quickie is just not for him

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

I honestly don't think he is a risk taker. Will he try new things? Sure, why not. But experiment is surely not at the top of his priorities

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Usually two, after some long and good aftercare after the first round. In some occasions even 4, including breaks

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

YES. Listen, as the only canon bisexual (which also is such bullshit like cmon dc) this guy has dated canonically women and men. For sure he owns a few things. I can see a few dildos, a strap on, a small vibrator

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

If he is in a mood he is so unfair it's almost mean. Seeing you squirm, whining and moaning for him to do something? Yeah indeed. He is into edging after all lol

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

LOUD. Moans, whiny tiny hums, groans and swear words. His voice is a bit husky and it's so damn hot

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

listen, HEAR ME OUT PLEASE, I think he would be into recording and taking pictures or at least doing it in one of those hotels where there is a mirror on the ceiling. He gets off on the idea of fucking you and seeing you two during the act, through a mirror or camera screen-- bonus point since you two can rewatch it together later. Or better, taking polaroids, pictures together, and having a naughty album hidden.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

I think fairly average. Around 5 inches, right thickness, slightly longer. It's a pretty pinkish colour with a darker blushy pink colour tip. Maybe a bit curved up

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Low. He can live without it, but there are moments where he just needs to let loose

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not quickly at all. After aftercare, which can last even more than an hour, since it's about you two resting, eating a bit, maybe gossip too- just enjoying each other's company. Once you're asleep in his arms, unless he was the one who bottom, he will wait for you to be fully asleep to sleep.

[mintmatcha]

PLEASE tell us about tiktok reader and Hawks getting weird

cw: implied grooming, pedophilia, and assault. choking.

.

It's clinical.

You undress yourself, and Hawks, himself. He always starts with his tie, then runs his hands through his hair. It's cropped short now, and you oddly wish he was 16 again, with those little curls that loop behind his ears. The windswept curls looked better then. Now, there's never any wind beneath his wings to sweep them.

"You fucking that little blonde?" he asks and you smile wide, wider than you'd ever give anyone else. You step out of your pants and panties at the same time, letting them drop to the floor.

"Would that make you jealous?"

"Haha," Hawks just gives that canned laugh. "Haha."

Hawks wants you to think he's lost his edge. He's a normal guy now, a community pillar. All of his corners have been shaved off and left behind in the past, and now he lets himself be tangled in the webs you've weaved.

But commission training is something that's etched into your bones. It grows with you and never leaves. Childhood is inescapable; it claws its way back to you.

And he has the same sharpness in his smile that you do.

He's not jealous of Bakugo. He just wants you to think he is.

"Don't leave a bruise this time." You shed your shirt and Hawks does the same. His bed is in the next room. You'd prefer to do this there instead of one his vinyl couch, but you don't complain.

"You don't want your little guy to see it, huh?" Finally, he touches you, hands ghosting over your waist. The contact makes your stomach flip and sour, just as it always does. Disgust has been a part of sex for you. Probably always will be. "You must really like him."

"What if I did?"

In a practiced move, Hawks loops his fingers under your bra and undoes the hook. His eyes flicker does to your tits, drinking in the sight, just like he always does. Next, he'll lean in and dot a kiss on your forehead, right before he moves in for the kill. "I'd feel bad for you."

A dotted kiss right between your eyes. He told you once that his first handler liked when he did that, that it gave her butterflies. Silly for a grown woman to say that, you thought. Silly for her to have wanted him at all, back when he was all knobby knees and braces.

He's been looking for her shadow in every corner in every room ever since.

There's no space for you to judge. When his fingers curl into your hair and tug, your mouth goes dry with the taste of hotel carpet.

"Choke me harder this time," you say.

"I don't like doing that," he says, even as his hands creep up to your neck and hand across your collarbone like jewelry. Always one to please, he squeezes, hard. Hard enough your eyes flash wide at the sudden swimming, hard enough your brain screams at you that this isn't safe.

And then he kisses you, all teeth and pressure and none of the pleasure, and your brain goes silent.

[fujoshiribbon]

a fairly detailed kirby oc ask meme

🪐 (Saturn) - What planet are they from? Is it in Gamble Galaxy, Another Dimension, the Mirror World, the New World, or somewhere else? Where do they live now?

🧃 (Juicebox) - What species are they? What’s their biology and physiology like? Do they differ in any way from a ‘typical’ member of their species?

⚔️ (Crossed Swords) - What weapon(s) do they wield or specialize in, if any in particular? Any special properties? Do their weapons have names or epithets? [e.g. MK’s Galaxia, Morpho’s Doomblade]

🪄 (Magic Wand) - Are they capable of wielding magic? Is it a learned skill, or is it innate? What sorts of spells can they cast? Do they possess any magical items or artifacts? [e.g. the Dimensional Mantle]

💫 (Shooting Star) - If they were to wish on a clockwork star, like Galactic Nova or Star Dream, what would they wish for?

🪽 (Wing) - Can they fly, hover, or levitate? Is it through natural means or artificial means? If they have wings, what do they look and feel like?

🥘 (Stew) - Do they have any favourite foods or comfort foods? What are their eating habits like? If absorbed by the Cook ability, what healing item would they summon?

🧋 (Boba Tea) - Come up with a Kirby Café item themed around your OC! It can be a savoury dish, a drink, a dessert, or something else entirely.

☀️ (Sun) - What’s their morning routine like? Do they take a lot of time getting ready in the morning? How do they groom themselves? What are they having for breakfast?

🌙 (Moon) - Is your OC a particularly light or heavy sleeper? Somewhere in-between? Do they take naps?

🍅 (Tomato) - If Kirby absorbed them or their attacks, what Copy Ability [or Abilities] would he get? Alternatively, if they themselves are capable of using the Copy Ability, do they have a favourite?

⚡️ (Lightning Bolt) - Which Power Effects [Blizzard, Bluster, Sizzle, Splash, Zap] would their attacks grant? Do they have any particular weaknesses or resistances, elemental or otherwise?

🎶 (Music Notes) - Do they play any instruments? What kind of leitmotif and/or battle theme would they have? Are there any songs you associate with them?

💌 (Love Letter) - How easy are they to befriend? Are they more of a social butterfly or a lone wolf?

💥 (Collision) - What’s your OC’s combat style like? Do they adhere to any particular code of honour or ethics in a fight, or are they totally unfettered by that sort of thing?

⚙️ (Gear) - Do they have any knowledge of, or connections to, the Ancients? What do they think of them?

⚖️ (Scales) - On the subject of a certain someone’s lengthy rant; is your OC moreso on the side of magic or science? Somewhere in-between? Do they incorporate the two together in some way?

🍨 (Ice Cream) - The Invader Armour undergoes a drastic transformation depending on its pilot. If they were to wield it, what appearance would their mech take on? What abilities would it have?

🪞 (Mirror) - What would their Mirror World counterpart be like? If they are a Mirror World counterpart, what traits of theirs are reflected? Do the two of them get along?

🐛 (Caterpillar) - What are your OC’s greatest fears, and why? How do they act or react when they’re afraid?

💼 (Bag) - Inventory check! What items does your OC typically carry around with them? What do they carry them in?

🔮 (Crystal Ball) - Out of all the treasures in the Great Cave Offensive, Kirby is letting your OC pick one from his stash to keep! Which one do they pick, and why?

♟️ (Pawn) - Does your OC get possessed easily, or do they have the willpower to fight back against any possible attempts? Have they been possessed before?

🕸️ (Spiderweb) - Create a bouquet inspired by your OC! It can be based on their colour palette, flower language and symbolism, whatever they like best, or any combination of the three.

💜 (Purple Heart) - If they were corrupted by the Jamba Heart, which negative traits of theirs would be amplified?

🩷 (Pink Heart) - If they were a Dream Friend, what would their moveset be like? How much HP do they have? Would they be a strong attacker, or would they take on more of a support role?

🦁 (Lion) - If they were an animal — that is, of the Earth / Shiver Star / New World variety — which animal would they be? If they already are an animal, what real-life species or subspecies are they most similar to?

🕰️ (Clock) - What would a Dreamy Gear version of them look like? What sort of accessories would they have? What kind of role do they play?

🛡️ (Shield) - Which Clash role would your OC pick - Sword Hero, Hammer Lord, Beam Mage, or Doctor Healmore?

🦋 (Butterfly) - Does your OC ‘fear the reaper’, so to speak? If they fused with Morpho Knight, what sort of form would they take on?

🍒 (Cherry) - Out of all of the Dream Friends [Kirby included], which ones would they get along with the most? The least?

🥀 (Wilted Rose) - Do they have a Soul form? What would it look and act like? How much control over themselves do they have? Is it still possible to save them, or are they too far gone?

[tyunn1ngz]

taehyun nsfw alphabet

cw: maybe afab implications? i think it’s pretty sex neutral tho and as always no gender is directly stated!

a = aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

pampers u with soothing words and gentle touches, wrapped tight in his arms w ur head on his chest so u can listen to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat<3 him giggling when he cups ur face after he cleans u up, ur just so cute when ur all tired out :((((

b = body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

on him his arms and his stomach ,,,,,, beautifully toned and just ......................... AAAAAAAAA. riding him w ur hands on his abs when u try to steady urself, his breathy laugh w his hands aiding u in bouncing in his lap .,,, the strength hes got that he basically does the work all himself. anyway.

on u probably ur lips, loves loves lovesssssss kissing u so much(>ω^) loves how they look when ur mouth drops open, pants and moans of pleasure, pleas for more; all falling out in a haze... and also just maaaaaybe a little obsessed w how they look around his cock :o

c = cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

thick but i think it'd probably actually taste nice is that just me

d = dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

loves to film himself getting off and just taking nudes in general idk how many times ive said this but ill continue to say it bc i know im right ok and im fr gonna start begging everyday to see them

e = experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

i think yes, even if its just a little and he definitely knows what he's doing. he was going to be good at anything he does regardless, that shit is always in his nature somehow but now that he's been around just a tad he really knows exactly what he's doing (×_×)

f = favourite position (this goes without saying)

riding, u in his lap or on his face is actually to die for in his opinion. or just any other position where he can really showcase his strength to u, he's not fussy on the details ;p

g = goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

a mix of both but more on the serious side, loves spitting filth that has u trembling just a little harder— but is just as obsessed w ur laugh as he is ur moans, so maybe during foreplay he'll caress u in ways that tickles just to get u giggling before he really breaks u down <3

h = hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

trimmed nicely but not completely shaven cuz that shit gets itchy growing back in

i = intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

intimate w him means almost no space between u, and nothing exists outside of u two and the throes of pleasure at those exact moments. and while it’s not technically romantic he loves telling u ‘i’ve got u baby’ and smth abt the way he says it always just has ur stomach swooping a little w butterflies

j = jack off (masturbation headcanon)

piggybacking off of answer d, i don’t think he’d jerk off a whole Lot if he can b with u instead but he absolutely makes a show out of it everytime. barely cums unless he’s looking at himself and if thats narcissistic literally WHO cares

k = kink (one or more of their kinks)

besides the strength kink, biting and being bitten r huge ones for him— not only does the sensation make him cum a little harder but smth abt the possessiveness of it all that really just does it for him— ur his only and he’ll make that very well known!!!!!!!

l = location (favorite places to do the do)

he took u in his studio once and hasn’t stopped thinking abt it ever since. that’s all i can really give u on that

m = motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

when u assert urself when u kiss him, ur confidence in an outfit u feel particularly hot in, probably even would pop a stiffy over if u simply just said smth really smart— or even if u said smth dumb tbh, feed into a little bit of dumbification, make his ego a lil bigger cuz he has to be the smart one in the relationship

n = no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

probably a no to stuff like cnc, and nothing too painful or that will draw any blood— just a little pain is enough!!!

o = oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

he has no preference but he is a bit of a sucker for a blowjob bc !!!!! he loves ur lips!!!!! remember!!!!!!! (imagine his chest heaving and dark eyes looking down at u when u give him head and his hands gently pushing ur hair back and telling u how good ur doing even if u literally arent—as long as ur enthusiastic hes going to fall apart w u between his legs wooooooo boy)

when it comes to giving im telling u for the billionth time SIT on this man’s FACE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

p = pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

prefers rough and fast, fucks so feral and so nasty and knows just how to roll his hips so u curl in on urself its so hot (//∇//)

q = quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

loves a good quickie imo, spontaneous raw desire and the thrill of it all can really get him off at times. a little obsessed w fucking u up the way he wants and watching u struggle to make it look like u weren’t doing anything sus at all when u both rejoin all ur friends<3

r = risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

yes!! he’d have some hard limits that he’d say no to and that’d be final but outside of that he’d try almost anything at least once!

s = stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

i imagine it would either be one round but it could go for hours— or several rounds that aren’t as long, i don’t really imagine him being the type to go all night but hey if ur still horny he’ll get u off again however he can ฅ/ᐠ. ̫ .ᐟ\ฅ

t = toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

probably not many if any at all, he can make u cum so easily w just his fingers he hadn’t rly seen a need for them but he’s game to try whatever— vibrator, cock ring, handcuffs, whatever u wanna try baby!

u = unfair (how much they like to tease)

big tease, but also sometimes its not on purpose he genuinely just loves the feel of ur skin on his, so his touches that seem fleeting and like they’re meant to rile u up because hes not really touching u where u want; thats not on purpose!!!! ur just so soft and u feel so nice </3

v = volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

not very loud, loves to groan right into ur ear though bc u grow a little louder in response, so reactive :3c he’s a panter, little grunts and whimpers but all breathy and just for u to hear only nobody else Σ(-᷅_-᷄๑)

w = wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

really really wants to try a threesome w one of his friends, someone else in txt the most likely. would even settle for one of them just watching the two of u fuck, it makes him a little crazy to think abt but he doesnt even know why

x = x-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

average length but thick … and he knows how to use it….. takes long drag of cigarette…

y = yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

pretty average libido until he starts dating and has sex w u for the first time bc then i think itd be thru the roof im ngl here he just wants to have u all the time hes obsessed w u and everything is just so exciting

z = zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

pretty soon after u guys clean up but u can tell he tries his hardest to stay up to talk w u a little longer— but u guys r so cozy and so tired out that he can’t keep his eyes open and neither can u, fighting sleep together w delirious giggles while ur all tangled up in his arms<3

[poetryvampire]

Nsfw Alphabet for Gil Galad ✨

💛 Gil Galad x gn Reader 💛

The brainrot has gotten to me so bad and I need more high king content like yesterday. Pls enjoy!

A - Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

There's going to be so much cuddling and you're not going to be able to escape, those strong arms are around you and you're locked in. The high king may be satisfied sexual for now but he still craves the feel of your body and intimacy of having you close to him.

B - Body Part (Their favorite body part of theirs and their partner’s)

Though sometimes he's still a bit self conscious of his broad chest and shoulders (he'll never have that classic slender elf look) he loves seeing how much you adore his build, its been a big confidence boost.

As for you, it's a hard choice but probably your lips he's def got a low key oral fixation you didn't hear it from me. He's mesmerized by them always. Watching them curl into a smile, feeling them on his skin. Kiss him all over and he's yours forever.

C - Cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

The breeding kink this elf has? Insatiable. Regardless of your situation Gil Galad's chomping at the bit to pin you down and fill you as much as he can. Careful though, if you tease him or really lean into it bag for it you're in for a very long, very overstimulated night. The sight of his thick seed running down your thighs is enough to get him hard and ready to pump you full again.

D - Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs)

Would never under any circumstance admit it but if you're going to be separated for a while he will make a point of taking some of your clothes and under things. The comfort of your sent has helped him through a lot of stressful lonely nights.

E - Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Fairly experienced. Despite giving off the appearance of a prim and proper king he's pretty open to casual sex and experimentation on the rare occasions he can find the time. That being said he loves learning about his lovers and figuring out how best to give them what they need.

Gil Galad usually falls into the role of a soft dom. That's definitely his favourite. But he's open to anything especially with a trusted partner.

F - Favorite Position (This goes without saying)

Mating press Honestly he just adores looking at you, so any one where he has a good view. Like a variant on missionary like anvil or butterfly. Also once you've been together for awhile and Gil Galad becomes fully comfortable with you taking charge he loves when you ride him. Will beg and whine and cry for it if you work him up enough.

G - Goofy (Are they serious or humorous in the moment?)

He's pretty serious for the most part during the act as he wants to make sure you know exactly how much you mean to him. He saves all his witty remarks for the lead up or during aftercare. Gil Galad can never get enough of your smile and will sass and tease you to no end when the time is right.

H - Hair (How well-groomed are they?)

Listen. I feel like I see a lot of people lean into the hairless high elf thing and that's just not my jive. Let me have this

By elf standards Gil Galad would be considered very hairy. He's very well groomed but doesn't bother to shave it. He has a good amount of chest hair but a thick, dark happy trail and bush.

I - Intimacy (Romantic aspect)

Once the High King gives himself the time for a partner he needs it to stay sane. He had a habit of using work as a distraction for the lack of intimacy in his life but now that he has you he craves it very often. Physical and emotional closeness means the world to him, they're one of the simple joys of nature that make life worth living.

J - Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

Tries his best not to when his kingly pride gets the best of him but of course this only leads to him being more pent up than ever. He'll often do it in bed without evening meaning to. Either unable to sleep or dreaming of you and his body will just take over. He'll be painfully hard and start rutting desperately into the mattress or a pillow. He won't be able to stop until he's cum all over himself, one hand over his mouth trying to stifle his groans.

K - Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Gil Galad is and absolute king of soft doms. Good lord nothing makes him feel as good as pleasuring you, especially when its before he's found any satisfaction. He really wants to work for his release. Adores lavishing you slowly and sweetly until you're and overstimulated mess.

L - Location (Favorite places to have sex)

When his plans for the night are long- which they often are- he prefers his chambers. However, his majesty has a bit of an exhibition kink he likes to explore now and then. There's something about seeing you naked in nature that really takes his breath away. He loves how your skin looks in the sunlight. So he's been known to get frisky while out on a walk or picnic in the woods.

M - Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

Gil Galad may come off as a bit cold or temperamental at times but at heart he's an old school romantic so a lot of it can be little acts of kindness and devotion. Witnessing them make him mushy and emotionall at times, overwhelmed buy how lucky he is to have you. And suddenly he'd be filled with passion and desperate to kiss you everywhere at once.

N - NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He's not doing anything that could actually hurt you, so he's really not here for hard domming. Remember he's not just a king but a very seasoned and capable warrior. He's much more strong than you and keeps it in mind during sex just in case. He's very ok with pinning you down, light bruising, even spankings but anything that could draw blood is out of the question.

O - Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He's completely mad for the taste and sent of you so he defiantly prefers giving. The feeling of you pulsing and dripping against his tongue gets him hard like nothing else.

P - Pace (Fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)

More often than not it's slow and sensual. He really wants to luxuriate in your bodies and pleasure, really make sure that his desires are not only for your body but also from a place of love.

Q - Quickie (Opinions on quickies)

Ok I know what I just said, but as high king he's also busy as hell and sometimes just needs to grab you and lose himself in you as soon as possible. On more than one occasion he has taken you on his desk in-between meetings.

R - Risk (Do they experiment or take risks?)

Gil Galad is willing to take risks but depending on what kind it may take a bit for him to get comfort. One of the biggest ones for him was letting you dom him. He's an elf that likes control and so used to controlling himself and others and letting goes of that wasn't easy at first. Learning to let go under your guidance was not only extremely pleasurable but did a lot to ease his anxiety. You make him feel safe and that means everything to him.

S - Stamina (Rounds, how long they last)

High. Very high, too high at times. Especially if you've been parted for a while or if you really work him up over breeding you. We're talking all night long best of luck walking tomorrow kind of stamina. Sometimes he wont even need to fully pull out between rounds. You'll be coming down from the high, still wrapped around each other, feeling his soft cock inside you when suddenly its growing and he's slowing bucking into you again.

T - Toy (Do they own/use toys?)

Not so much toys but Gil Galad loves adding in adornments like silk ropes, blindfolds, lingerie and massage oils. Again he likes to take his time and go all out.

U - Unfair (How much do they like to tease)

LOVES to tease and is so so smug about it. Lives to work you up and leave you hanging, seeing you writhe and beg for him over and over. However he will also be a whiny overdramatic nightmare if you do the same to him.

V - Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Lots of noises but it's usually pretty low until the end. Even simple affections like kisses can draw soft sighs and hums from him. He's very vocal once into it, lots of deep throaty groans, tends to ramble out either sweet earnest words of love or the filthiest descriptions of what he wants to do to you youve ever hear.

W - Wild Card (Random headcanon)

Thinks bathing together is the most romantic thing in the world. If you come to him after a battle and help him out of his armor and into a hot bath he'll get very emotional. Wash his hair? Hold him and help wash away his heavy thoughts? Will actually cry.

X - X-Ray (What’s under the pants)

Just like the rest of him he's quite large, both in length and girth so he's also very careful to give you lots of prep before you take him. Also veiny as hell. No matter how long you've been together nothing gives him as much of a high as watching him stretch you open to accommodate him.

Y - Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Good at keeping it under control until he's in a relationship then it goes sky high. Constantly yearning to touch you, doesn't even need to be sexual. He's aching to feel you at his side or your hand in his. Your presence is such a comfort to him. And of course he is just a man elf and will often find his mind drifting to the curve of your lips or the breathless moans he could be pulling from you during a dull meeting.

ZZZ - Sleep (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Somewhat quickly- especially after a few rounds- but only if you're pressed against him. Gil Galad Loves feeling and holding you after sex. He'll keep you close while alternating between soft kisses, caresses and murmuring words of love until you're both passed out. Gets the best sleep of his life like this.

[overtaken-stream]

Do you have any writing plans involving Katakuri or the Big mom pirates?

Monster's Voice Is Sweet To Hear

Charlotte Katakuri x F!Wife!Reader

! !NSFW! !

This is from ao3, last year, sorry for any grammar mistakes, as well as my different writing, this is also the first time I wrote filth, aside from the love-making in the Ace fic from Ao3. I want to write something for him but the ideas are just not coming to me. I also didn't specify readers race. Just that it's a female and tall/stronger then a human since we all know Big Mom won't just toss away Katakuri and make him marry a boring human with no specialties. this could work on all shapes and sizes of reader, chubby and skinny.

Word count: 5.8k

Summary: Rarely in the dead of night, a monster such as Katakuri needs love. It's something you can't say no to. After all, how can you deny that unnerving voice of his.

Warnings: Size difference, POST-WANO SPOILERS, multiple rounds.

In the quiet night, where only the humming of your voice is heard.

Light from the cake-inspired lamp bounces off the pink walls the shadow that's in a silhouette of a woman falls onto the giant bed in the center of the room.

On a quiet night, a married girl takes her jewelry off and places it in one of the drawers the magenta bureau contains.

You stand up from the chair, getting closer to the bed. Getting out of your clothes and putting on a modified (F/C) nightgown, you straighten the hot pink details running over your tall figure as you lie down on the heavenly bed.

Only at the sound of a door opening did you quickly get under the blanket. The sound of metal and leather rubbing against itself notifies you of the person who walked in before they can even say anything.

``(Y/N).``

``Katakuri.`` You shyly show your face from the covers to see the sight of your husband of 3 years now, even after all this time you can feel the blush creeping up your face, no matter how long you will never get used to seeing a man that's able to look down at you. That stoic and firey gaze always unleashed the butterflies deep inside your belly.

``I apologize for startling you, I've seemed to... Be distracted lately.`` This was his way of saying I forgot to knock on the door. With much time you start to learn the ways of Katakuri's speech patterns. Start to recognize what words his pride was holding back even from you. Apologetic wasn't one of them. It isn't like he's trying to hide something after all you've seen his biggest weakness in action multiple times, gobbling all kinds of sweets. But never have you thought forgetting was something Katakuri was capable of. It wasn't until after the incident at Pudding's wedding involving the Strawhats that Katakuri's mask, which he had been carrying since marrying you (probably much, much longer than that) truly shattered. Thanks to his younger sister Flampe not keeping her mouth shut about how horrid her big brother is physically and then about his treatment towards her, after what she did. The brat even tried to approach you to run her tongue about Katakuri. Your husband.

Honor is off the table when faced with a person with that kind of mindset. Never mind the respect when facing a worthy opponent.

``Mind if I join you?``

``No, not at all.`` You smile as you watch him carefully get out of his uniform. Never did you imagine you would smile at Katakuri, compared to the sad bride and groom the two of you were. The new life treated you both kindly, it wasn't fast but it wasn't slow-paced either.

The stiff and awkward interactions turned into small conversations about interests and they blossomed into what can only be fondness. The road came with its fare-share of bumps, and both of you dived head first in this with only your families in mind, ready to throw away what little freedom both of you had for your parent's satisfaction.

At the wedding ceremony, walls were built. Walls that cracked the more time you spent with each other.

``Y'know, Luffy was announced as an Emperor today.`` You fill in the silence. Knowing Katakuri's favorite topic you slide in the information.

Katakuri stops mid-changing and raises his head at that. He had told you about Luffy a couple of weeks ago, finally emptying his head to you about the topic he was trying to tell you the moment he returned to your room injured. You didn't push him back then.

The time will come when he'll bring it up. You would tell yourself. It's his calculations of reactions that hold him, little insecurities eating him up and even if the conversation was late, you are happy that he was finally opening up. To you at least.

``Is that so?``

``Yeah, it was in today's newspaper. It said he defeated Kaidou, impressive huh?``

You watch as he nods his head. You debate for a second if you should tell him the next sentence, but he is her son, after all, today he dedicated himself to the library (A time he cherishes since it happens so rarely. A battle with the Straw Hat sure tired him out. You wonder if it's a blessing in disguise sometimes. If it is you wouldn't be surprised.) and judging from his lack of knowledge about the feat Luffy accomplished, you might as well tell him now...

``Surgeon of Death and The Eustass kid from the Worst Generation were involved... They defeated Big Mom.`` At that, you can feel how the temperature drops in the room, his movements to put the clothes back in their place slowed down until they came to a stop. It almost felt like time had stopped.

``I've heard about that. All the commotion in the palace this morning was from Perospero's call. They needed a backup to retrieve them.`` He says as the heavyweight is lifted off the room, letting go of the fabric he was holding onto, the time begins to roll once again.

You don't bat an eye at Katakuri's actions and his casualness. You doubt he would mourn his mother.

You quiver as the blanket is thrown off of you, the chill biting your arms and chest before he joins you on the bed. You fix your body position as the natural warmth his body carries sends shivers down your spine. Your back facing his chest as his giant hand creeps up to cradle your waist.

You shy away or try to. But the moment his fingers softly graze your pelvis, a tight knot starts developing, his shy yet soothing and careful touches sending the blood up to your face.

He's mindful of his heaviness, even if you are taller than a human should be, more tolerant and powerful, he treats you the same as he would to his child siblings, with feather-light touches. It's instinct at this point. It makes you nervous. Makes you red and sad, as well as happy that he also wasn't the only one with bad habits.

Habits that differentiate you two are rare. Since most of them are dependent on higher-than-an-average-human height.

``Is this okay?`` his open eyes travel over your face devoid of any skin color except red. You nod.

``...May I?`` The awkwardness in his voice is precious. Sweet as a mochi should be. Not how a monster's should be.

It makes your heart skip a beat and your core to pulse.

The impatience takes over when he's leaving lingering touches closer and closer to where you would like the itchiness to go away. The temptation to grab his hand and drag it to your genitalia is strong. Biting the bottom lip you feel his hand cup your crotch, and it's a feeling you'll never get tired of.

He shoves the gown's bottom piece up to your belly button, getting the cue you grab the (F/C) silky cloth. It's tacky but it was one of the more subtle ones that Brûlée has picked for you.

You shift your left thigh to the side when the tips of his finger flex on top of your clitoris, a thin layer of fabric stopping him from intruding, yet he is still making you pulse and drowning you in the electric shock of pleasure. The fingers slowly run over it, again and again putting no pressure behind the movement.

When his right-hand digs behind your back, your flushed face barely turns around to ask him what he is doing.

``Changing position...`` Katakuri says as he carefully scoops your neck between his forearm and upper arm, his left hand grabs onto your right hip.

His show of strength as he gets you on top of him in a second, leaves your knees shaking. At first, you lay on his chest with your back pressed against him.

Even with your superior height he somehow manages to make you feel as if you were a human, it makes you doubt your reality for a millisecond, his right hand balancing you and the other one going down your body a bit too fast, your suspicions are confirmed by the impatience with which he tosses the blanket off of your bodies. The room temperature now no longer poses a threat to your skin.

This time he isn't as slow with his actions, leaving the undergarments on, he rubs up and down your slit, feeling its warmth escape onto his sweaty hands.

The quiet room was momentarily full of little gasps and beating hearts of both parties. A squeak leaves your mouth as you rise from your position on his chest, leaning on your elbows that are still... On his chest. The coldness that sudden separation brings on your back is forgotten as you look down to where Katakuri is making laps around you. The moisture grows in seconds when he presses his thumb on your clit, slowly rocking it sideways and tightening the knot deep within you.

You try to bite the bottom of your mouth to not let the noises escape but as Katakuri flattens his hand so his index and middle finger are sliding and tickling your entrance, the task to stay quiet becomes very difficult. You feel the way he snakes his second hand up your breasts while the other separates the undergarment from your folds. Little moans sneak past your lips as you look straight down, the bulge that shows from underneath your thighs just makes your heart beat out of your ribcage.

Katakuri lays his forehead on your shoulder as he feels the wetness coating the surroundings of your entrance, he knew the smaller hands were coming before feeling them pull down the owner's panties, momentarily stopping for her to take it off before he continued infiltrating it. His right hand fondling with your breasts squishing them but not rough enough to hurt you.

For a split second, you felt the pain of the stretch, arching your back and tossing your head over his shoulder as Katakuri's other hand played with the silk-covered nipple, he pushed his forehead down on your cleavage, it wasn't in his intentions but the size difference was really making your mind mushy.

You could feel him shaking from below you as you rest on top of him, closed eyes and clean mind absorbing your movements.

For a couple of seconds, you lay like that, panting breathes and already sweat covered. He won't move. He won't hurt you. He'll give you time to adjust.

Your hand lands on his crimson hair, fingers run through the short pink layers devoid of grey. It startles him, eyes snapping open he looks to his left shoulder where you are resting your head and meets his beloved's smiling face staring back at him.

Pink dusted his cheeks and as his heart jumped, his mouth opened and closed, this nervous feeling is shameful to him. The big brother Katakuri was still getting used to his new-not-so-new feelings towards new-not-so-new his wife, and expressing them to her face turned out to be the most complicated and difficult part. (Aside from Brûlée, she has seen him at his worst. It's a new feeling, a new type of embarrassment he hasn't experienced with anyone, not even Brûlée. The thought of this ever getting out almost frightens him. It frightens him.)

At last, he chooses to look away as you chuckle.

``C-can you move now?`` He nearly forgot.

``Are you... Sure?``

``Yeah, now c'mon... I was so close...``

He continues his motions with soft pink shades over his face, and slowly the two fingers slide deeper into your gummy walls. The clenching makes him wish it was some other part of his inside of you instead of his fingers. He listens as hisses leave your lips from the painfully nice stretch, the tears gathering at the corner of your eyes being wiped away by Katakuri's other hand that took a break from playing with your breasts, he feels his boxer get tighter when your legs shake around his massive thighs, for a second he feels glad that you aren't super tiny, it makes this feel like the first time both of you did it. It holds a special place in his heart, the lovely touches have never been that satisfying. And every time you take your time to show affection to him during it- he falls further and further in love with you. Even if he doesn't show it, or return them, he appreciates the gestures.

He knows it's time to start the actions of love and that you would certainly never reject it. It's the childish fear keeping his head and eyes locked away during them. Is he shy? Maybe. Does he wan't to return the gesture? Some would think that he doesn't.

The whimpering noises fill his head as he finally went in knuckle deep, he lifts his head from your cleavage and brings your face closer for a kiss, eating the deep moan that leaves your mouth when he pulls out his finger and pushes it back into the warmth. Watching with open eyes how your eyebrows point up in pleasure twisting into a lustful picture he'll love for the rest of his life. The fact that he is the only one who's allowed to see it makes his head dizzy with what other expressions he could steal from you.

He slowly fastens his pace, making and leaving your walls a mess before he gets back in and fixes it with his fingers, finding that spongey spot was easy, having it memorized Katakuri curves his fingers upwards and pistons into it, barely taking his fingers out.

One after another lustful noises (now louder than ever) escape before you can bite your tongue. At some point, drool started coming out of your mouth. Eyes closed you can feel how Katakuri milked your sweet spot brutally, making your cunt weep and sting oh so impossibly delightfully.

His hand and your thights are all wet now.

``Just aah little m-more...!``

You were so close. So incredibly close.

The moment Katakuri forced his hand to dig deeper in your cunt, to get past the line of his knuckles, and pushed upwards into your belly, forcing you to arch for him harder was the moment you were seeing stars.

Your closed eyes were going into your head and your wide mouth was slack as he held your hip with one hand and rubbed your clit faster than ever with the other one. Throwing you off the edge and finally loosening the knot that was tied at the start, slick now not-so-unclear dribs down your slit, he doesn't let you have a break, hand still accompanying you even after your orgasm.

You don't complain.

He slowly pushes your pelvis down with his forearm to meet his hips, not slowing his fast-paced rubbing. Your moans are now as free as they can be, but you limit yourself, wanting to hear little grunts and deep slow moans from Katakuri. You honestly think you could cum from his voice alone.

He's beautiful you think.

His eyes are closed, the furrowing thin eyebrows holding onto the sweat drops that are covering his face in a thin layer of gloss. His eyes are closed yet he seems so concentrated to make you cum again. The vein in his forehead is on full display for you. His naturally long eyelashes adorned his hooded eyes.

``You're Beau...tiful... Kata...``

The way he hides his mouth in your cleavage and not in your shoulder because of his big size, the way he is avoiding eye contact the moment you whispered those two words. The way your heart shattered, is like no other pain you've felt. Because this boy is so... So incredibly sad. You want to kiss the pain away, the worries to be crushed under your tall figure. You want to shield him because he deserved so much more than this family.

``Sooo pretty... C-can you look...at me?`` Exhausted, you reach out.

You don't pay attention to the second orgasm, too busy complimenting him about his beauty. You miss how he is rutting his clothed hips right on your naked ass. You don't miss how he turns his face to the opposite side from you, you don't miss the red-colored ears as you hug his neck. Biting his ears as you are getting closer yet again. You notice how he's gone quiet the moment you praised him. How he is listening to your moans right in his ear.

Suddenly he crashes his hips into you, stinging sensations of him losing grip on his strength lays mockingly on the prints he has branded on both sides of your hips. Even if you were drowning in an indescribable pleasure you didn't miss the way he threw his head back, he almost roars a held-back-moan as wetness spreads on your ass. You don't have to look down to know that both of you guys's cum is wetting the sheets below.

Did he cum by pleasuring you?

Shit... That's so... Hot.

You've known there were ten million ways to love somebody and this. This was one of them.

Katakuri relaxes on the pillow behind him, coming down from the high he tossed both of you in, your arms still around his neck. He opens his eyes looking down at your face, It's a mess really, with sweat and hair sticking on your forehead, swollen lips from the previous kiss (he spends extra seconds looking and feeling the breasts resting against his own skin) but it doesn't matter to him, all he sees are the fruits of his labor. He finally removes his hands from your hips, his gaze falling on a now-covered-by-your-nightgown spot.

Did he leave a mark?

A giggle escapes from your lips before you can stop it, earning a playful glare from his direction. What's so funny?

``Aha-I'm sorry, it's just. You're so red!`` He looks through you, unfocusing his eyes before turning his (now red from embarrassment) face away from you.

You rub your cheek against him, feeling the stitch scars that lead to his mouth hole.

``Awh! C'mon don't hide from me!``

``...You're getting brave (Y/N)...``

``I don't have to be brave to call my husband beautiful and handsome! Plus you're so cute right now!``

``I'm not cute...``

``Sure you're not.`` You're pushing it. You are sure as hell not sure where this confidence came from but you aren't complaining.

Putting your hand under his chin and turning his face toward you.

His eyes settle on your lips before you pull yourself up to make your (S/C) lips land on his monstrous mouth. Like a beast, he doesn't close his eyes, unlike you.

Yet again choosing to make up for the time he closed his eyes during the sex. Staring into your wet eyelashes.

His left arm drags you so impossibly closer to his chest, in a hug while his other hand puts a strand of (H/C) hair back over your ear. When you try to pull away he follows your lips down. Cherishing the strawberry residue that the lipstick left.

A couple of moments last of you two in a romantic kiss before it turns into playful pecks across each other faces. Katakuri was careful with his fangs, still getting used to having someone get as close as he was to the white knives. He calls them and judging from the sharpness you can't exactly call him wrong.

It lasts like that for more than necessary. The sweet touches turned harsh from him is a normal feeling for you, pain tolerance is one of your specialties. It's in your blood. There is nothing he could do from the outside that could hurt you. From the inside, it's a different story.

It's the reason why Charlotte Linlin chose you to be the bride for her second son.

``He's a monster in humans skin,`` She said.

``Better have that scarf around you at all times Katakuri, don't frighten the soon-to-be bride.``  She said at one of the tea parties she had invited your family over.

It was humiliating for him to hear those words, let alone in front of a different kingdom's royal family. Those words were enough for you to have an opinion set on Big Mom.

And Katakuri too. It was respect, you respected him for putting up with people like his mother daily. Another thing to add in the similarities chart besides the height.

``Don't you think your genetic powers would make lovely children for my boy here darling? Wouldn't that be wonderful?``

You pity the children you have to give birth to. Because you know it will happen.

Her piercing gaze and a change in tone was the only reason you nodded your head. It was how the entire party went actually, with you acting like one of Big Mom's homies. Bobbing your head to every compliment she would say about you and your powers.

Maybe that's what left a sour taste in Katakuri's mouth. Why he avoided you for a couple of months after the wedding, he probably saw you as a fragile bimbo who was swayed by fear.

You would hate to say it but the truth is always hard to swallow.

It was what you were before the wedding and after. No doubt about that. The fear of upsetting a bomb that was Big Mom terrified you to your core. You could take Katakuri ignoring and avoiding you but you could never say no to them, the strings she had on your family were too tightly tied around their necks to risk it. Not to mention the thousands of people's lives each of your family member represented.

``The more you fuck around the more you're gonna find out`` As your diplomat father would say in all kinds of situations. It's just that in this instance it wasn't comedic.

It was a psychological thriller. And fucking around you couldn't.

It was a sad start to your relationship with him, an unwanted marriage both of you were against at first, maybe in another lifetime one of you would have had a voice to protest it. But for now, you enjoy the soft embrace of his arms around your shoulders. A loud banging of his heart against your ear.

The chill of the aftermath leaving your body and replacing it with a sticky feeling between your crotch and the smell of sex that wasn't visible at the time.

``Well then, don't you want to clean yourself up?``

``No, I don't.``

``W-why not?`` Usually, Katakuri loves his cleanliness, organization, and tidiness. He showers after coming home, often he's the one running to the bathroom with towels in his hands before you can even process that you've arrived home.

``...I just don't want this to end.``

``... You...`` And you thought Katakuri had run out of his surprise factor. It makes you want to toss your feet in the air with tiny kicks, giggles and everything, it makes you blush.

Seriously? Why are you acting like a schoolgirl with a crush on her upperclassmen?! Have you lost all your marbles in you, woman?! Where is the royal blood?!

You can practically feel the inner, secondary or tiny voice in your head yelling at you.

``Y... You do...?`` Unbelievable.

A nod from him is all you need.

``Y'know, we don't... Have to end it...``

``What?`` God his obliviousness makes you want to strangle him.

``We can... Continue it instead...I-i mean... If you... Want..?`` You run your index finger over his chest, tracing the tattoo with half-lidded eyes and lips in a kissing position. If this isn't lustfull, you don't know what is.

``...``

``...``

``... We can?`` His shocked eyes leave you once again, speechless.

``Of... Of course, we can! If you have any energy left that is... What made you think that we couldn't..?``

Sex is something that rarely happens between you and him since both of you most of the time are sent out for missions separately, however, If your memories aren't lying to you there are a total of four times (not counting this one) that you guys have slept together. How many times did he want to cuddle after sex? 2 times? 3 times?

Such a bad wife you've been to him.

WHAT DON'T THINK LIKE THAT!

Your questions go unanswered. Instead, he gently turns you onto your back, his hands balancing himself like a pole, they shut off your field of vision 'till you can't look anywhere instead up.

And up you look.

You think it's a sight any fair lady would go feral over. So what if you've seen this many times before, it never fails to make you nervous, the confidence dripping off of him, even if shaky eyesight proves just how unconfident he is.

Swoon over him you do.

The feeling you got at the start of the night coming back ten times stronger and filling up your heart until it's back to the pace it was before, this time maybe even shaking sideways for dramatic or. romantic effect.

Your breathing quickens as his head follows his body that was leaning on his thighs which were usually heavy with accessories of any kind, mostly following his gothic style with minor changes. Now he stands on top of your legs with his free-of-any-weight ones, caging yours with his knees. He has a charm in the way he travels his hand down on your skin, giant fingers ghosting over the most sensitive of places. The size difference isn't much but staring at your squished thighs and comparing it to the thickness of his knees makes your breath hitch, gulping you look up towards his face.

Katakuri's sharp crimson eyes glimmer down at you.

He had never once failed to make you feel so unbelievably small under his gaze, you find this exact moment perfect to take off your sticky nightgown that's wet with substances from both of your bodies. It turns out to be a good hiding device for your face, too bad it only lasts a couple of seconds before Katakuri gets suspicious.

Once over your head, you toss the (F/C) fabric somewhere on the floor. Presenting your fully naked body to him.

You don't know when or how he got the boxer off, but he now stands in all of his glory. One would think he was flexing his muscles, and he was. With how heavily Katakuri was breathing, you would have run your fingers up his tattoo if he didn't grab your legs first, taking them out of his leg jail, it was an awkward struggle to pull them over his thighs but he managed to not stretch it out for too long.

It felt so right, you against him fitting like puzzle pieces, your warm legs clinging onto his hips that are the perfect fit for your long legs.

It's your fantasy coming to life and so is his.

Katakuri pulls your hips near his pelvis to get you in a comfortable position. His fingers play with your now relaxed entrance. His other hand strokes his sex in front of you.

Shyness is thrown out of the window.

``I'll... Be slow.`` He always says that. But he can not help the roughness come into play the moment you get used to having him inside you.

You shiver as his head presses against your folds, hiss as it's slowly getting past the cold surface and into the warmth your insides bring. You hear him let out a grunt of his own. The shakiness of his hands on your hips calms the arch your back has been put into.

Katakuri pushes in with slow motions.

He tries to distract you will little strokes up and down your arched back.

You try to not tense up, you really do, but his fingers weren't enough for you to have been ready for his cock. It has that extra length and thickness his fingers weren't capable of having.

The sting leaves you panting and watery-eyed.

Katakuri looks down at you, completely stopping his actions when the walls around his girth close his pathway to bliss.

He lets you relax and adjust to his length. Looking at your face when you wipe your not-yet-spilled tears. Feeling the walls grip and loosen around him makes him close his eyes, ignoring the sparks of pleasure that are signaling him to just rut into you. He turns his face back to you, opening his eyes.

Katakuri doesn't ask you to relax, he knows you're already doing that and he knows you'll signal him to move onward, there is no need to remind you of what's obvious. So he stays quiet, humming and touching you elsewhere across your body, a gentleness he didn't know was capable of, coming forward and dripping honey over your pain, sugarcoating it with his lips that are kissing up your neck.

You put your hands over his shoulders, feeling the pain go away only for it to be replaced by numbness. calming down you nod your head against his scarred cheek.

``You can go on... Now.`` And he does. Slowly and surely with the help of the previous round. He bottoms out.

Your walls surround him, while his grunts surround your head. Both of you stay still for a moment, him going back to kissing your shoulder while you hug his neck, lost in ecstasy.

The world is summed down to only him and you, even if you are running your eyes on the walls of the room, you're still breathing in his leftover cotton cologne, lingering on his skin for just a bit longer.

He starts moving, god he starts moving.

Rocking into you slower than ever, stickiness in your crotch area goes unnoticed. The feeling of him moving and dragging the pleasure away only for him to slide back in, adding the rubbing against your clit with his shortened pubes is soul-shattering in a pleasing way, making your brain mush and your mouth full of unholy sounds.

Sweat dribbles down the side of his face still buried in your shoulder. He is not a man who leaves hickeys. Even though It's impossible since he can't exactly hurt you, although he enjoys leaving marks with anything else, they don't last long, only a couple of minutes before it's back to the way your skin was. But he likes having your signatures on his back especially since that's the only place covered by his jacket in the public.

Even now you leave tiny trails with your nails on his back, not strong enough to break the skin but just enough for them to look like a part of his tattoo gone wild. it just sums up more blood on the southern side of his body, getting him harder than he was before.

It's too much for you when he starts setting a fast pace, his hips meeting yours midway through your grinding, it's too much you tell yourself.

The way he is holding his wide torso with his elbows right beside your shoulders since you didn't let go of his neck since you grabbed it. You feel silly, sticking yourself onto him this way but he doesn't have any complaints. Even if it's too much how you cum yet again with shaky legs and slick dripping down your crack and onto your arched back. Too much of him rocking into you. The mattress below you squicking and rocking with his thrusts. Not only the mattress, but his thrusts also drag your entire body with him, meeting him halfway through his pulling. Too much moaning coming from your side, it's too good.

Too good to tell him to stop.

You can't tell when you came again, the shakiness is blending in with his hips crashing into yours, and you can't tell what is your natural body's doing and what is Katakuri making your body do.

Him finding the sweet spot was the last thing you wanted him to do. You wanted him to find it.

But judging from the electricity hitting you full force again and again and again, making you cry out in all kinds of movements to push him away, you can't be sure.

Katakuri takes advantage of your vulnerability and pulls you away from him so you could relax on the light pink pillow almost swallowing you whole. Allowing him to thrust at a slightly different angle, an angle that also relieves tension from your back.

He straightens himself, now standing on his knees as he looks down at where your bodies are connected, he lands his hands on your hips setting an almost inhuman pace you aren't able to keep up with.

Not with your body and not with your mind.

He pays no attention to your face, you've had enough of that before. Instead, he watches as his hands slam your hips to him, and your poor clit swollen and sad, lies helplessly. Taking him with no problems.

``A-ah little more..`` he moans out. You want to cry at how much he wants to drag this out.

You can tell by the way his hips stutter before calming down completely, going back to the slow pace he did at the beginning.

It's too much.

``Katah-kuri, please!-`` Your voice cuts off by a scream that left your mouth when he slammed his hips back into you unexpectedly.

You can hear him chuckle lightly at your trembling figure lying under him.

It's like he is teasing you and himself.

Tears drip down your face as he repeats it a few times more, before grinding his pelvis when fully entering you cleanly. Your abused cunt beats against the few pubes it has stuck in the wetness surrounding it.

He doesn't let your wobbly legs slide down his thighs, holding them harshly and not letting your bottom parts get away from him.

You can feel it before it comes. The way a vein in his dick starts pulsing and throbbing. Filling your insides to the brim.

You don't look down, instead, you pay attention to Katakuri's Addams apple bobbing up and down in his thick throat accompanied by sweat drops, the way his heavy jaw comes up and down, and the way his eyes are closed and tensed as are his eyebrows. How the other shoulder free of any tattoo (one which you were previously gnawing on) is red colored. It's shiny with spit, tears, and sweat.

It's as far as you get before your heart finally calms down, forcing your eyes to close and your body to pass out, exhaustion finally catching up to you. The last thing you see is a blurry figure of Katakuri looking down at you.

His worried voice calls out to you.

And here you thought you could endure a monster's sweet voice.

[gothgleek]

Agnus Tully- NSFW Alphabet

I do not own the Holdovers nor the images used in this post. All thoughts are my own. The borders are from @saradika-graphics

TW: sexual acts, kinks, parental issues, mention of mental hospitals, porn.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are appreciated but not required 🌸🌼🌸

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Really cuddly and clingy but quiet. He’ll pepper you with kisses and praise, but he’s the one who needs more attention afterwards.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

We all know Agnus is a breast man. You will need to snap your fingers a few times before his eyes can tear away from looking down your shirt. Pervert.

He also LOVES biting them and marking you up.

His favorite part of himself is his legs. He takes a lot of pride of being tall and take any opportunity he can to show them off. Hence the James Bond trunks.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He has a paralyzing fear of parenthood but he LOVES cumming inside you unprotected. Especially if he can watch it drip out of you before he eats you out. He wouldn’t mind painting your tits with his cum either. He’ll take a pic of you like that too and ruin it later.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He steals your underwear and uses it to jerk off. He’s also into roleplay but he hasn’t found the right time to bring it up.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

His only previous experience comes from porno mags. Maybe he had a partner or two in college, but I doubt it got anywhere emotionally. Regardless, you’re his first MAJOR relationship either as FWB or serious partners.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Mating press. Pretzel dip. The butterfly. As long as he can stare into your eyes and have your legs in his hands, he will be a happy man. Also you against the wall, him in his knees so he can give you oral and try to make your legs shake.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Half his dirty talk is him being sarcastic shit. Other times he has to keep himself from laughing at your cum drunk expressions because he’s proud he did that to you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

This is the 70s so he’s trying to grow chest hair and a bush. However, he’s very particular and he trims himself.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Once he’s in love, he will make sure you know. However, he’s still Agnus so he might be a little shit about it. He’ll whisper sweet nothings while pounding you or while he teases you. Nonetheless, he’s his most romantic during aftercare.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As much as he tries to deny it, he loves jacking off. The dorms make it hard for him to do it as much as he wants but as soon as he’s whipping it out. He’s quick too, to the point he was worried he wouldn’t be able to control himself when he fucks you. Thankfully that’s not an issue.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Taking pics of you as we’ve established. Role-play as well. Due to his many boarding schools, he’s developed an appreciation for uniforms. He’s also warming up to having a minor religious kink. The two of you definitely role played as James Bond and a damsel before though.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s got an exhibitionist kink in him so the woods and library are the most fun for him. One time the two of you fucked at an open air concert. But he loves fucking in his room so the two of you can nap and cuddle after.

He hates the beach though. He took you on a family vacation once and sand got everywhere when the two of you fucked.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Thank god for the sexual revolution and its hatred for bras. Low cut tops and kindness. That’s what attracts him to you. Also when you wear a low cut top and beat him at pinball, that’s when he is all over you.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Restraining him (ropes, handcuffs, etc.) reminds him of his father so that’s a no-go. Maybe he’ll warm up to the idea of restraining you but not for a long time. Nurse roleplay he’s on the fence about because he could jack off to the idea or a pic of a sexy nurse but he could not get turned on irl for similar reasons. Also not fond of daddy kinks but would be open to a mommy kink. He’s not gonna talk to a therapist about it.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves eating you out. And then you introduce him to rimming and he is excited about tasting more of you. He doesn’t even need to touch himself, he will rut against the bed while eating you out. He loves your blowjobs as well but he keeps his hands to himself, pulling his sheets and clawing the walls.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He actually prefers slow and sensual (though no less kinky). Why shouldn’t he take his time with you? Even if it’s a quickie his mouth is everywhere on you, drawing it out as much as possible.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

While he loves taking his time, he has an appreciation for quickies as well given the lack of privacy he’s always had. If you fucked before dating, it would’ve been mostly quickies but now that you’re together, it’s longer. He’s more willing to have a quickie when it’s a stressful time for the both of you (family trouble, finals week, traffic jam, etc.).

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

The great part about the 70s is the sexual revolution. He would be down to experiment with almost anything. Repression is known for creating super kinky people after all. Both of you keep notes about each place and position you’ve fucked, well well as a running list of what kinks you would try again.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

When you first get together, he doesn’t last very long but after a quick break, he’s ready to go again.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Thanks to the sexual revolution (and his wallet), the two of you have more than enough toys. Unfortunately Google tells me sex toys were scary looking during this time so the once the excitement of sex toy shopping wears off, you really only stick to the vibrators. Maybe once nipple clamps are more popular, he’ll have you wear them as well. Your favorite toy to share is the famous hitachi massager.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He loves teasing you soooo much. He’s such an asshole about it too, teasing you anywhere from a car ride to the library to bed. He enjoys someone he can banter with too so he will take anything you’ve said to him and throw it back in your face later. Absolute menace.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s chatty at first (he LOVES dirty talk) but when he really gets into it, he will just be panting, all words lost. When he finishes, it’ll be a low moan in your ear.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s a biter and will mark the hell out of you. Especially your thighs and breasts and ass. Also he had, at one point, made a sex playlist but stopped using it when he couldn’t hear you over the music.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Long but not girthy. Curved. Cut. Grower, not a shower. A nice little happy trail as well.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Pretty high. The poor guy is so touch starved, he can’t keep his hands off you. Even if he’s not horny, he acts like it and is always touching you, just so he can tease you.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He needs to hold onto you before he falls asleep. He’s secretly romantic and likes to match your breathing and circle his thumb in your skin. When it’s a quickie though? He turns into the energizer bunny and won’t burn out until hours later.

[youryurigoddess]

A. Z. Fell & Co. bookshop and its statues

To start off, you have to be warned that the former set was almost completely destroyed in the S1 bookshop fire and whatever wasn’t important enough to be salvaged before the shooting had to be replaced afterwards. Which means that a few memorable and already identified pieces aren’t there anymore, for better or worse.

This is going to be another long analysis, and certainly not a full one — I’ll describe only the big picture and the most important props. A continuation focusing on the decorations in the less prominent parts of the bookshop will follow here.

Right at the entrance we can see twin tables with the Marly Horses by Guillaume Coustou the Elder. The sculptures showing two rearing horses with their groom were originally commissioned by Louis XV of France for the entrance to château de Marly, a royal residence near Versailles.

In S2 Crowley is shown consistently using one of the horses, partially out of convenience, partially in line with a returning throughout the season dark horse theme. Ironically, the symbolic harnessing of a wild animal mirrors the supposed domestication of the demon by his angel, as seen in the transformation of the statue to the right from the entrance into an altar of his submission.

After all, there’s nothing more vulnerable to Crowley than losing the usual protection of his shades, and using a horse sculpture as a stand for his sunglasses speaks volumes about his natural aptitude towards uncertain and liminal states. He thrives in stress situations, dangles his feet while hopping onto a curb, and assumes the form of a non-Euclidean fluid when asked to sit down in a chair. Stability isn’t exactly what he’s most comfortable with. So what for Aziraphale signifies the power over his (theirs?) own domain and ultimate safe space, for Crowley means a challenge.

It makes sense that this particular spot near the exit is where the demon feels most secure in the bookshop, his favorite place in the world. That’s where he stood after crossing its threshold in 1941 too.

The statue in the middle, right on top of the central bookstand, was replaced after the S1 fire. It’s still clearly a Cupid, but in a different pose and without his weapons — instead of shooting an arrow, now he’s holding his left hand over his head, pointing up towards Heaven or God. Quite a change. This is the most similar copy made after Ernest Rancoulet. The butterfly-like wings (similar to the ones Rancoulet used in his La Nuit Tout Repose, At Night Everything Rests) on the copy in the bookshop have visible screws, so they were probably added either by the previous owner or the Good Omens art department.

What’s especially important from the analytic point of view is that similarly to S1, the Cupid in question still appears in the frame facing Crowley, but not targeting him anymore, like it used to, but rather mirroring. The most memorable example appears during the Final Fifteen™ when the demon points up with left hand to highlight his “No nightingales” line.

This one will be fun! Everyone, meet George Maxim’s bronze allegory of Music in her full glory. Angels like music in general, right? And Aziraphale is a known audiophile, which was asserted in the very first episode of the new season. But there’s another link to music in his angelic roots. A rather apocalyptic one — the Archangel Raphael is believed to blow the trumpet from a holy rock in Jerusalem to announce the Second Coming (the Day of Resurrection), and Israfil, its Islamic counterpart, Qiyamah (the Day of Judgment).

Staying in the very same context, let’s read the ballad Israfel by Edgar Allen Poe, which was obviously inspired by the titular Archangel.

Nothing on Earth lasts forever — but that’s exactly the reason why we should use it for inspiration, savor this momentary bliss, and hold it in our hearts. The ballad shares the same sentiment about all creation being temporary and only the passions of angels (i.e., Aziraphale’s and Crowley’s feelings) staying eternally unchanging as Aziraphale’s “Nothing lasts forever”. His line was intended as an affirmation of his feelings, similar to “You go too fast for me, Crowley”.

And just like the Cupid is mirroring Crowley in the “No nightingales” line, Music is targeting Aziraphale with her harp in the following frame.

On the counter there’s a smaller bronze statue, which original unfortunately remains unidentified, but I was able to track some similar designs. A woman coming back from the harvest with crops — either a representation of Autumn or the Greek goddess Demeter bringing a blessing of a plentiful harvest. In the Bible, the harvest is a metaphor for both spiritual fruitfulness and judgment. Our productivity in God’s kingdom is supposedly tied to our faith and obedience. And the most popular verses repeat an even older saying, how one reaps what they sow:

Do not be deceived: God is not mocked, for whatever one sows, that will he also reap. For the one who sows to his own flesh will from the flesh reap corruption, but the one who sows to the Spirit will from the Spirit reap eternal life. (Galatians 6:7-8)

And another angel came out of the temple, calling with a loud voice to him who sat on the cloud, “Put in your sickle, and reap, for the hour to reap has come, for the harvest of the earth is fully ripe.” (Revelation 14:15)

The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved. (Jeremiah 8:20)

If you read The summer that was never supposed to end meta, you’ll interpret the figure itself as a rather ominous sign. Now let’s add to it positioning right next to the gigantic Victorian cash register one cannot possibly overlook and the recurring theme of payment. And the fact that it conveniently disappears at some point in The Ball (S02E05) episode, never to be seen again. Is the payment reminder not needed anymore, because its day just came?

For some reason ever since S1 this one was often interpreted as a bust of Alexander the Great by the fandom. The proper name is the Head of a Victorious Athlete, also known as Benevento Head. As this suggests, the originally bronze sculpture represents a victorious athlete wearing an olive crown and was found near Benevento in Italy, in the remnants of the ancient town Herculaneum, wiped off from the face of the earth together with Pompeii in a tragic volcanic eruption (which was conveniently used later on as a more modern example of the story of Sodom and Gomorrah). It’s an obviously Roman copy of a Greek sculpture and dates back to 50 AD, less than a decade after Aziraphale and Crowley met in Rome in 41 AD— who knows, maybe they were still around at the time? This would make an interesting connection to the statue Crowley brought back to his apartment in 1941.

And no, in the HD quality and especially en face it doesn’t appear similar to Crowley. In fact, there seems to be a very good reason why most photographers choose another, more flattering angle for this particular artwork. But aesthetics aside, the white bust seems more like a mirror for Aziraphale and his self-constructed (and self-imposed) idealized image, based on a specific set of virtues. The presented athlete is victorious because he’s the epitome of the Platonic Triad of higher Forms: Truth, Beauty, and Excellence, understood in the wider context of the Greek Aretē.

To highlight this point, in S1 the head was literally used as a designated display place of the medal Aziraphale got as a commendation for his 6000 years on Earth in the 1800 cut scene. As a free agent not affiliated with Heaven in S2 he doesn’t hang it there anymore, but the medal is still in the bookshop, visible on his desk. You can see it in detail and read the description of its provenance in the last bookshop meta.

Daedalus and Icarus are a very popular motif in the history of art, but certainly not in this overtly masculine, military style. Icarus was too ambitious for his own good and ignored explicit instructions, which constitutes both the sin of pride and that of disobedience to one's parents (or one’s Creator?).

Interestingly, there’s also a version of the myth in which Icarus fashioned himself greater than Helios, the Sun himself, and the god himself punished him for it with the fall — which resonates very strongly with my vision of Crowley both in relation to his Fall and potential S3 development.

But back to Aziraphale. If the medal in question was given to him as a commendation he from the Supreme Archangel himself, it also serves as a warning for him to not get too arrogant or comfortable with his accomplishment (i.e., life on Earth) or it might lead to his fall (or, in this case, Fall).

Foreshadowing much?

[hemoglobinjuicebox]

Hello again! Thanks for answering my ask about requests. I’d love to request a fic where the Reader is dealing with nightmares from either past memories or stress from their adventures, so Astarion comforts them. Perhaps he finds little ways to distract them from their discomfort through talking or a mini massage/playing with their hair until they fall back to sleep. Thank you for considering my request! <3

Hi!! This prompt ate at my brain all day <3 I love it so much

The light around you was a perfect morning gold. The air was crisp and clear; it always was on summer mornings like this. The hand was tender on your cheek. Its palm was warm and its fingers delicate. It held you as if you were the most precious thing in all the world. Lips that smiled so sweetly whispered in your ear, filling your stomach with butterflies. Had you ever been so happy?

Those fingers trailed the curve of your jaw to your neck, their featherlight touch tickling your skin. You laughed. So did that smile. It kissed your forehead. Every part of you was elated, floating in bliss.

Ice ran through your veins as those fingers curled around the column of your throat and squeezed. Five became ten. You clawed at disembodied wrists. You tried to cry out, but all that came was a whimper, a soft plea to stop.

Your vision began to blur. What once was a dreamy weightlessness became a cold lack of anything in your body. You were empty. You were nothing. And the last thing you saw before the world grew dark were those lips twisted up in a cruel, keen grin.

A silent scream tore itself from your chest and spilled from your mouth. Your hands dropped from your bruised neck, landing soundlessly on the woven floor of…

No, this wasn't your tent. The blanket drawn across your body was not yours. Books, shiny baubles, and dinnerware stained red were scattered in the corners. A lantern's flame flickered in its frame, bathing the crimson walls in a soft orange glow.

“I know that look,” a smooth voice uttered. Your neck twitched, urgent to find its source. Your heart pounded against your ribs, threatening to beat them to shards.

Astarion sat propped up against one of his pillows, a leatherbound book resting on his lap. His arm laid limp in the empty space beside him, thrown around a thick, yellow square cushion with a dent in its center. He closed the book and set it aside by the lantern.

“Look at me, my love.” He coaxed your eyes towards his. “That's it. Just focus on me.”

You swallowed. Your throat hurt so terribly. It was sore, marred by the cries that could never escape. He was hazy: a pallid, unreal vision. A ghost come to haunt you, to hurt you.

Astarion let out a quiet sigh and patted your pillow, beckoning you back. You gave a quick shake of your head. The insides of his finely-groomed silver brows tilted from their usual pensive furrow.

“You don't have to lay down,” he said. “Just sit with me.”

You hesitated. Your eyes flickered to his hand still laying on your spot. He pulled it away and set it on his bent knee. You felt your heart start to slow from its whirlwind drum—good.

Deeming it safe, you felt yourself crawl back into place. He let out a satisfied hum, then asked: “Is that better?”

“A little,” you mumbled.

“Good.” His hand grazed the goosebump-ridden flesh of your arm. “May I?”

You nodded. He slid it up and down the length in a gentle caress. Your muscles tensed at first, itching to push him away, but you held fast. The world was real again—it was solid, true.

His crimson gaze swept over your bruised neck. “That's quite a nasty little mark,” he observed not unkindly. “I'd ask what it's all about, but I can see talking is the last thing on your mind.”

You weren't sure how, but he managed to rest your head on his chest. He pulled the blanket up to your shoulders and tucked you in. A pleasant tingle prickled at your skin as his hand slipped from your arm to the back of your head. His fingers, long and dexterous from pilfering pockets and loosening locks, carded through your hair, gently working through the tangles. Kisses would occasionally land atop your crown.

“You're safe,” he would whisper. “And I love you. I always will.”

After what felt like an eternity, your eyelids grew heavy once again. Your head felt full as sleep grasped at your thoughts, breaking them apart and scattering them about the dark recesses. You could remember them in the morning… or not at all. Perhaps it was best not to think.

Your body turned, draping itself over his own. You rubbed your cheek on the cool silk of his white night shirt while he brushed his thumb across your nape. It was as if he were trying to wipe away the remains of your nightmare, to free you from the pain—no matter how dull.

Your eyes shut, and the world went dark again. But your heart was light. Light, warm, and full. And in his hands, it always would be.

[papiliotao]

THE PURRFECT DATE

ੈ✩‧₊˚ GN!Reader

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Characters: Heizou, Kazuha, Scaramouche, Xiao

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Synopsis: Your boyfriend takes you to a cat café!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Warnings: reader and Heizou have a tiny misunderstanding but it's overall very fluffy, a cat injures the reader in Xiao’s, Scaramouche

ੈ✩‧₊˚ Content: crack, fluff, modern!AU

Heizou

When your boyfriend told you that he was going to take you to a cat café, you weren't quite expecting this. You had anticipated a cute date with Heizou, sipping on sweet drinks and petting adorable felines. However, Heizou had decided to be act difficult instead.

"Oh! Look at this cat! It looks like you, don't you think?" Heizou pointed at an ginger cat. The cat was staring blankly at you with absolutely no thought in its eyes. Meeting gazes with the creature truly felt like staring into an endless abyss. Your jaw dropped, and you turned to stare at Heizou in shock. "Wow. Even your expressions match now."

"Stop," you begged him, feeling your face beginning to heat up. Your boyfriend seemed taken aback by your reaction. His eyebrows furrowed as his forehead scrunched up into a prominent frown. However, his expression quickly twisted into a small smirk.

"What's wrong, love?" your boyfriend snickered. You felt your face burn with the heat of a thousand suns. Shikanoin Heizou was impossible. It almost felt like he would never stop teasing you. You swore that even if the world was ending and the sky was falling, your partner would find some way to flirt with you or poke fun at you.

"Why exactly do you think I resemble that cat?" you inquired, snorting a little when you saw the feline attempting to groom itself. It ended up losing its balance and rolling over. Did your boyfriend seriously compare you to such an idiotic creature?

"Man alive. I thought you were smarter than this," Heizou said, shaking his head and feigning disappointment. "Fine, I guess I'll let you in on a little secret," he whispered, leaning closer to you to talk into your ear. The feeling of his lips brushing against your skin flooded your senses with warmth. Yet it was a warmth that caused shivers to wrack your body. "You're cute." You felt an exhilarating touch of soft lips to your cheek after he said those words, causing your heart to race.

"So you don't think I'm stupid?" you asked your boyfriend.

"Stupid?" Heizou bursted out laughing. "Love, where did you get that impression from?" He glanced at the cat and then back at you. The cat was now running around, chasing a cat wand that one of the visitors was waving around. In its haste, the orange feline accidentally ended up running into a wall. You winced at the sight, but the furry creature was unphased. It simply stood up and continued to chase the toy.

"See what I mean?" you mumbled, a bit embarrassed that you had jumped to conclusions earlier. You looked down to obscure your flustered face from your boyfriend, but he tenderly placed his hands on your cheeks and forced you to look up at him.

"Adorable," Heizou remarked, "just like a cat."

Kazuha

Going to a cat café with Kazuha was a mistake.

It seemed like a good idea at first. Your boyfriend had always had a natural feline affinity, so you figured that it would end up just being another wholesome date. However, you did not quite anticipate the extreme reactions of the animals.

As soon as you and Kazuha walked through the front door of the mostly empty café, you found yourselves in a troubling predicament. Without warning, a mass of furry bodies scurried over to you and your boyfriend ⁠— well, mostly your boyfriend. An amalgamation of cats surrounded Kazuha, causing you to step aside to give the felines some space. They meowed at him, nuzzled against his legs, and purred in his presence.

A grin adorned Kazuha's face as he bent down to brush his fingers gently against the pelt of a cat that reminded you of a fluffy cloud on a summer day. He giggled lightly, causing butterflies to dance within the pit of your stomach. His laughter was music to your ears — a timeless melody that would never fail to bring a smile to your face. You shrieked internally when you saw how he handled the feline as if it were a fragile treasure — precious but prone to breaking if one was too rough.

Based on the way he interacted with the cats, even a stranger would have been able to tell that his touch was always soft and tender, and as his partner, you knew better than anyone that this was true. It showed in the way he would loosely grip your hand whenever the two of you took late night walks together. It showed in the way his fingers would ghost across your sun-kissed hair during waking hours. And it showed in the way he would press saccharine kisses against your lips with the utmost care ⁠— passionate, but not suffocating. It was clear that he prioritized your comfort above all at any given moment.

Despite knowing that Kazuha was generally a kind and affectionate person, you couldn't help but feel a little bit jealous of the cats. You felt ridiculous for harboring such feelings toward such clueless creatures. However, you couldn't really control how you felt. The green-eyed monster named envy whispered words of ridicule as you watched your boyfriend interact with the felines gathered at his feet.

Kazuha glanced in your direction and shot a smile at you. You pouted as he turned back to the cats. It seemed that he could feel you glaring at his back because your eyes met pools of crimson before you knew what was happening. Your shoulders relaxed slightly, and you felt the tension in your facial muscles alleviate. Although you were still miffed, the galaxies contained within your boyfriend's ruby eyes never failed to make your heart to flutter.

"My love," Kazuha spoke softly, gazing at you with an expression that spoke of adoration and adoration alone. "It appears that something is bothering you. I won't force you to tell me what the problem is, but I would truly appreciate it if you did. I hate seeing you upset." You sighed. Nothing slipped past your ever-perceptive boyfriend.

"Promise you won't laugh at me?" you asked Kazuha, noticing that all his attention was now on you. The cats around him remained close to him, but he was no longer focused on them. You were the only thing on his mind.

"I would never dream of it," he responded.

You took a deep breath before bluntly stating, "I feel a bit jealous." Although your statement was rather vague, you knew you didn't have to elaborate any further. Kazuha understood you like no one else. Your boyfriend's eyes widened in surprised before they crinkled with slight amusement. However, his features softened as he made eye contact with you.

"Love," Kazuha started, "come over here." He beckoned for you to close the distance between the two of you. You complied with his request. As you walked, the cats parted ways to let you through. It almost felt as though you were royalty of some sort.

Once you were directly in front of Kazuha, the boy took your hand in his. Sparks were flying as he slowly brought your knuckles up to his lips, relishing in the dreamlike moment. As his lips met the back of your hand, you felt his soft hair tickling your skin. Although it wasn't a kiss on the lips, it was no less magical. Your boyfriend always knew the best ways to capture your heart. You were slightly disappointed when Kazuha pulled away to speak, leaving nothing but a lingering warmth in his wake.

"This world contains a great many wonders, but no matter how many beautiful, remarkable, and captivating sights I come across in this lifetime, you will always be my favourite. I love you."

Scaramouche

Your boyfriend glared daggers at you as yet another cat padded up to him and rubbed itself against his legs. Everything about his demeanor screamed "why did I agree to this?" You simply giggled, causing Scaramouche’s frown to deepen.

Who knew that your cold and grumpy boyfriend would turn out to be such a cat magnet? You were having the time of your life snapping photos of Scaramouche with the fluffy felines. Although he was scowling in all of them, your heart couldn't help but do flips when you checked the images.

"Put your phone down," Scaramouche hissed at you. It turned out that being Scaramouche's significant other did not mean that you were exempt from hearing his irritated tone of voice. You shook your head, refusing to give in to his demands. Scaramouche rolled his eyes but didn't protest further. Although he would never admit it, he really did have a soft spot for you.

"Alright, time to set this as my phone wallpaper," you snickered, staring your boyfriend straight in his indigo eyes as you spoke. Scaramouche wrinkled his nose and glared at you.

"If you're going to make a photo of me your wallpaper, at least make it a good one," Scaramouche snorted.

You simply stared at Scaramouche, a little confused. "How would you know whether or the images turned out good? I haven't shown them to you yet." Scaramouche chuckled as though you had asked him the most ridiculous question he had ever heard in his life.

"Even if they're decent, I'm certain I could do better," Scaramouche smirked at you. Normally, you would have immediately shut Scaramouche down out of spite, but your curiosity got the better of you. You walked over to your boyfriend, ensuring that you took caution so as not to accidentally trip over any cats, and handed him your phone.

"Do your worst," you challenged him.

Without hesitation, Scaramouche wrapped a hand around your waist and pulled you close to him, causing you to yelp. He then set your phone’s camera to selfie mode and took a picture of the two of you, ensuring that the small black and white cat sitting beside him was visible as well. It was, admittedly, a cute image, but you refused to accept defeat.

"So, what do you think? Am I a great photographer, or am I an absolutely godly photographer?" You groaned as your boyfriend grinned at you in a cheeky manner. How was it possibly for someone to have an inferiority complex and a massive ego at the same time?

"Whatever," you mumbled, refusing to acknowledge Scaramouche’s victory. "Watch my stuff. I’m going to the bathroom," and with that, you left your boyfriend to his own devices, with no one but the tiny cat by his side to keep him company.

When you returned from the bathroom, you were met with an absolutely shocking sight. You had to blink slowly and pinch yourself to ensure that you weren’t dreaming.

Scara was sitting on the ground with the black and white cat in his lap. He was scratching the creature behind the ears. The purrs of the feline rang out nonstop through the café, sounding almost like the rumbling of a motorcycle engine. As you looked more carefully, you noticed the corners of Scaramouche's lips were turned up in a small smile. His gaze also appeared softer than usual. You recognized it as a look that your boyfriend reserved for the few that he loved.

You quickly decided that you needed to capture the moment with your phone. However, there was just one problem. The device was on the ground right beside Scaramouche. It seemed that he had placed it down close to him in order to hold the cat.

With all the stealth and care that you could muster, you crept in your boyfriend's direction, inching toward your phone at an agonizing pace. Each second felt like an eternity spent in suspense, perpetually anticipating that Scaramouche would look up and realize you were there. Fortunately for you, he was too focused on petting the cat under its chin to notice you approaching.

Miraculously, you managed to make your way to Scaramouche's side nearly silently. Swiftly, you bent down to retrieve your phone. "Smile!" you exclaimed, causing your boyfriend to tilt his head upwards to gaze at you. The cat mimicked him. Scaramouche's eyes widened, and before he realized what was happening, you took a picture of him.

"Hey, look at that," you remarked, showing Scaramouche the image. "I took a better photo than you."

"You're a persistent fool," your boyfriend snapped with exasperation lacing his tone. He huffed out a sigh and went back to running his fingers through the cat's fur.

"But I'm your persistent fool," you insisted. It appeared as though your words had struck a chord within him, for as you made eye contact with your boyfriend, you observed that his indigo eyes had filled with a sporadic warmth.

"Hmph. Fine. I suppose you’re correct. After all, if you weren’t either of those things, you would have given up pursuing me by now," Scaramouche whispered. "What I meant to say was, thank you for putting up with me. I know I’m not the best boyfriend at times, but your stubbornness has allowed you to continue loving me. Thank you, so much, for being infuriatingly adamant, my dear."

(And for the record, you ended up making the photo you took of Scara and the cat your wallpaper)

Xiao

"Xiao, are you scared?" You eyed the dark-haired boy suspiciously. He had been hesitant to accompany you to the café in the first place, and now it seemed like he was avoiding any and all contact with the cats.

"No," he retorted, backing away from a large ragdoll cat. You giggled. He was definitely scared.

"Are you sure?"

Xiao paused for a moment before answering you, "Yes, I’m sure. Do you really think I would fear such helpless creatures?" You stayed silent, observing Xiao’s interactions with the ragdoll. Your boyfriend kept edging away from the feline as it stepped closer to him. It was clear that he was trying to be subtle about his movements, but he was failing miserably. For some reason or another, Xiao wanted the cat to stay away from him.

Unfortunately for Xiao, the cat eventually managed to back him into a corner. You knew it was time to step in and help when you saw Xiao shrink back. He looked at you, his amber eyes pleading for you to do something.

Suppressing your laughter, you picked up a toy mouse and dangled it in front of the feline that was holding your boyfriend hostage. Instead of leaping for the trinket, the cat turned to face you. It hissed at you and swiped its paw, aiming to scratch your arm. You moved out of the way just in time to avoid getting injured. It appeared that the ragdoll was solely focused on you now. You had saved your boyfriend but at what cost?

The cat refused to relent. Its aggression toward you didn't cease. A flurry of forceful bites and vicious clawing was unleashed. Behind the cat, Xiao stared at you, a conflicted look glinting in the honeyed irises of his eyes. However, something in him seemed to break when the cat finally managed to hurt you, causing a tiny bead of crimson blood to run down your left hand.

He frowned and clenched his fists. Sighing, Xiao carefully approached the cat, wrapping his arms around the feline. As soon as the overly-ferocious ball of fluff was lifted into Xiao's gentle hold, it calmed down. Your lips parted slightly as you regarded the sight in wonder. It seemed that the cat really liked Xiao.

"Is everything alright?" an unfamiliar voice rang out after the turmoil finally subsided. Upon examining your surroundings, you found that a café employee was standing a few steps away from you and Xiao. They glanced at you and then at Xiao. The worker did a double-take after seeing Xiao holding the cat. "Well that's a first."

"Is something wrong?" Xiao bluntly questioned the employee.

"No, not really. It's just that Toffee, the pretty ragdoll in your arms, typically doesn't take kindly to people. I don't know how you managed to win her trust, but it seems she enjoys being around you," they responded. "From the way you're holding her, it seems like you're a natural with cats!"

"You should have seen him earlier," you snorted. "He was afraid to even approach one of them." You noticed the tips of Xiao's ears slowly turning a shade of rosy pink. How adorable. "By the way, Xiao, why were you acting like that?" It was out of the ordinary for your nearly fearless boyfriend to cower in the face of such harmless prospects. Both you and the worker listened intently as Xiao spoke.

"Since you insist on knowing," Xiao started, sighing a little, "I feared that I would accidentally cause harm." Oh. That was why Xiao seemed reluctant to lay so much as a finger on the felines. You should have expected it. Your boyfriend was definitely a little intimidating and rough around the edges, but on the inside, he was an absolute sweetheart.

"It appears that you've done the opposite though," the employee remarked. "I mean, I don't think I've ever seen Toffee this relaxed. I think she feels safe with you." Xiao peered down at the cat, and sure enough, her eyes were closed, and her breathing was serene and gentle. She had fallen asleep.

"I see," Xiao responded dryly. To most, Xiao would have appeared rude for his lack of a complex response, but you knew that your boyfriend simply didn't know how to keep a conversation going. Throughout the course of your relationship, you had to learn how to read into the smallest of gestures to truly comprehend how much Xiao loved you. Thankfully, the worker standing before you simply brushed off his wry response.

"You know, the cats here are up for adoption," they said, addressing both you and Xiao. "I think it would be lovely if Toffee could go to a home where she feels secure." You exchanged a look with Xiao. The two of you knew exactly what the worker was insinuating.

"We'll consider it," Xiao told them.

(After two weeks of tireless late-night research, you returned to the cat café to sign the adoption papers)

[tumblingxelian]

I went and did a lil reviewing and its very interesting to look at Lila's situation regarding Catalyst and there's some fun observations to make in a vacuum.

1: This girls room has tons of masks.

I know that isn't a major thing but given what we know of her its like, "So you just wanna shout that you have a complicated relationship with identity is that it?!"

2: Her mom does work at the embassy

On the surface she seems nice enough if maybe very busy given she says she'll "Try" and be back before dinner. One can take Lila growling once she's gone as directed at Ladybug or her mother, or both.

But the dynamic also feels 'weird' & Lila's clearly used to instantly masking whatever she's actually feeling around her.

Assuming a "No child is born super evil" read, I'd say that either she is like Andre in that she can performatively show affection. But is not actually there for their child when they need it. In this case likely having failed Lila at some major interval that left a deep divide.

Or that she's one of those parents who can seem very nice and reasonable but if angered or offended or disgusted react very, very badly. I'd actually say this one feels the most likely given it would contextualize Lila's deceptive habits very neatly.

3: How much did she know?

The question of if Lila was "In on it" or a willing participant in the scheme is interesting. Cos its obvious she didn't know Gabriel's identity. But more to the point, thats he clearly wasn't even expecting Hawk Moth to come for her given she was surprised.

Like there is no one to be performing for here, that is genuine shock.

However, we all see her smirking after Hawk Moth has the Akuma leave her. But its worth noting she wasn't purified, the Butterfly just left. So while its obviously a headcanon I do feel the shift from shock and panic to stoic confidence is weird enough to thin it could mean more than just Lila is the devil.

Also is it just me or do her eyes seem more lifeless?

We do have Gabriel's dialogue to go off:

Hawk Moth: Fly away, my little akuma and evilize the one who's been waiting your return for so long.

But we've also seen him call Chloe his favorite "Victim" and its not exactly uncommon for people taking advantage of others to frame their victim as a willing participant.

With that in mind!

4: Oh they were 100% grooming Lila, yikes

So, we know from season 3 that Gabriel & Nathalie were fine undermining Chloe's mental health to the point of sabotage, gaslighting and hostage taking.

Thus it is perhaps no surprise they were doing the same with Lila.

Don't believe me? They have literal cameras on a fourteen year old and have clearly been keeping her under observation in their own words, for months!

Nathalie: (Hands Gabriel her tablet) Lila has been harboring her rage against Ladybug for months, and today wherever she looks, she'll see the object of her hatred, and as predicted, her anger will reach devastating heights. Your plan is perfect, sir.

But more pointedly is what is not said, or more, what is talked around, see this exchange:

Lila: (scrolls through laptop) Liar! Traitor! Coward! (comes across an interview with Gabriel Agreste and Nadja Chamack) Gabriel: (on the laptop) In honor of the wonderful Ladybug who has saved my son Adrien and myself, and who relentlessly protects all of us everyday, I have financed this tribute to Ladybug. Because Ladybug is the only true hero unlike her mediocre imitations, such as Volpina. Lila: (screams with rage and throws her laptop against a wall) I hate you, Ladybug!

Cue laptop against wall and then crying on the floor, again there is no one to perform for here, this has to be a genuine reaction.

What stands out to me is Lila's choice of words: Liar! Traitor! Coward!

If she was just angry he praised Ladybug & insulted Volpina these words don't make any sense. But they make a ton of sense if Gabriel or someone representing her contacted Lila about her time as Volpina.

(It does not seem Paris is aware she was an Akuma)

Likely telling her about Heroes' Day or otherwise framing themselves as very interested and impressed with Volpina saving Paris from that meteor. Only so they could have Gabriel twist the knife in on an interview.

Conclusion:

That's just an assumption but if not, why not call Gabriel a jerk and a fool or something, traitor and coward have very specific connotations that don't make sense unless she'd been led to believe Gabriel thought highly of Volpina,

Hell, how would they even know she'd find the interview unless she knew to look for it?

Yes yes, story contrivances, but if we want to base out logic in universe, Nathalie & Gabriel preyed again on an isolated and to one degree or another neglected as well as troubled child. Fed into her many issues, likely helping foster her isolation & resentments, just to betray and humiliate her for the purpose of using her as a weapon.

That is deeply fucked up, especially when you consider that they were spying on her and she has no idea any of this is happening!

All in all, I think its quite reasonable to read Lila as a fourteen year old taken advantage of and steadily warped by adults' who were using her for their own gain as opposed to someone just born evil.

[rikitiki-5000]

marvel really is missing out on some wonderful gags by not having loki shapeshift more. Like imagine Loki turning into a blob of a black cat and bapping thor in the face, getting animal hair all over Doom's cape, stealing ppls clothes and trinkets and making a nest in the vents of avengers tower (they also leave the bones and uneaten bits of their hunt in the vents, so the tower really stinks), turning into a flock of butterflies again and chasing Spider-Man across New York, turning into a bird and taking a shit on ppl, or just licking/grooming ppl with them fully knowing its loki so its kinda really weird (for some reason i get a big kick out of this one).

think of it, we could have it all

[nekohime19]

Bimawen # 6 : You're likable

An ordinary day in an immortal monkey life includes : teasing his assistant, taking care of horses and stealing peaches

Wukong was perched on his assistant's head. He liked to be there. It was comfy, close to ears he could nip at, and it made the perfect vanguard spot. The moon was high and bright. Its kind rays falling upon them like a silver rain. Wukong looked down at the black-furred monkey. Mengai was cleaning his hanfu. He worked diligently to remove the wine spot straining the front of the luxurious dress. He searched the river earlier for flat stones. Wukong wasn't familiar with laundry work so it was quite fascinating to see his assistant's nimble movements. The Six-eared monkey was scrubbing the tissue with the stones. Removing dirt and grime hidden in nooks and crannies. Once he was satisfied with his work he poured ashes on the hanfu. He smeared them on the tissue and scrubbed hard. Wukong wondered where his assistant even found ashes. He had them in a little pot before he left the mansion. He watched the gray expand on the hanfu, recovering the red spot entirely. Once the hanfu was scrubbed hard, Mengai dropped it in the river once more, rinsing it until it was perfectly clean. Wukong hopped on the monkey's shoulder to get closer. He watched the red spot disappear. It was almost like magic in a way. The bimawen didn't know laundry could be so fascinating to see.

In a way, Wukong didn't know a lot about housework. When he lived on his mountain he lived with the whims of nature. He woke up at the same time as the sun. Slept at the same time as the moon. He didn't have any clothes, nor any tissues covering his body. Only fur. Cleaned by little hands eager to groom. Even if he had a mansion behind his waterfall, he didn't spend much time in it. Only when winter was too harsh would he leave the lush forests to take refuge behind the waterfall. Wukong never had to clean his clothes or his houses. And even when he began to imitate the ways of man, covering his body with tissues and sleeping in bed instead of branches, he left the housework to servants and clones.

Maybe he should learn more about them? In any case, Mengai made housework look particularly easy. Now that he thought about it, Mengai was way more talented at ordinary tasks than him. He was good at cooking. Good at cleaning. Good at fishing. Even good at folding clothes! How cool was that? Wukong couldn't fold his clothes for the life of him. He just threw them in his cabinet depths without a care in the world. His clones weren't better in this aspect. Perhaps he should ask Mengai to teach him? But the mere idea of asking his assistant for help was somewhat distasteful. No. He couldn't do that. He was the boss. The one supposed to show the way. What image would he give if he dared to ask for help? Good bosses were respected. Wukong couldn't let Mengai lose all respect for him by admitting he couldn't fold his own clothes. The black-furred monkey was already mocking him for his nonexistent fishing skills.

Once the hanfu was rinsed, Mengai delicately put it on a nearby tree's lowest branch, close enough to the fire to dry but far enough to not be burned by the sparks. Wukong returned to his designated spot, Mengai's head, and settled there like it was his personal throne. However, as the songbird was beginning to feel the ever-coming drowsiness of a full-stomach (Mengai had cooked before cleaning his hanfu) he was disturbed by his assistant shuffling. The black-furred monkey was undressing. Wukong huffed, annoyed by all the moving. Couldn't his assistant stay still? Didn't he see how tired Wukong was? How preposterous. The bimawen hopped on the edge of Mengai's round head and nipped at the highest ear. The fleeting appendages shuddered under his beck, like a butterfly trying to escape the web of a spider. Wukong felt satisfied, it was fun to mess with those soft ears.

“Ouch, come on birdie, I’m just undressing!” Whined Mengai, he tried to shoo the bird away with a flick of hand but Wukong was a stubborn creature. The bimawen nipped at the insolent fingers trying to dislocate him and smiled at his assistant's hiss. That would teach him. Nobody dislocated this mighty monkey, or perhaps songbird would be more accurate in this case? Mengai sighed, the tell-tale signs of his defeat, and resumed his undressing while ignoring Wukong's nipping.

Once he was as naked as a newborn, his old linen robe discarded on the shore, Mengai entered the river. Wukong didn't understand why the black-furred monkey was bathing in the river ice-cold water when they had perfectly heated baths at home. His assistant was a bit of an oddball at times. What a Mengmeng. Nonetheless, Wukong stayed on his throne, unwilling to depart from his vanguard spot. Mengai's head was his to sit as he pleased.

The water was circling Mengai's hips like the arms of a lover. The black-furred monkey began to scrub his body, harshly removing the dirt sticking to his fur. Wukong frowned in disgust. This wasn't how a monkey ought to groom himself! He was going to irritate his scalp if he kept scrubbing so hard. The bimawen was tempted to reveal himself just to stop this scrubbing madness. But then, would he be able to taste Mengai's grilled fish again if he discarded his disguise? He could order the black-furred monkey to do some but somehow the thought wasn't appealing. Freely given fish tasted better than ordered ones. Besides, with how petty the other monkey was, he could very well spit in the fish to spite him.

Wukong decided to teach his assistant proper grooming another day. For now, he didn’t want to reveal himself. Once Mengai stopped scrubbing himself, he poked his bandages. Slowly, he unraveled the snow-white ribbons, putting them on the shore. Wukong hopped on his assistant's shoulder to have a closer view of the wounds. Was he worried? Yes. He was. Would he ever admit it? Not for a million lives. Mengai's wounds seemed better. The once glaring red bite-marks were covered by a darker scab, almost like a veil hiding the tender flesh. Some areas were still exposed, littered with bruises, but it was beginning to fade. Mengai poked at the scab a bit, before scratching it. Wukong chittered in indignation, what was this guy doing!? You shouldn't scratch your scabs! The songbird glared at the black-furred monkey and nipped at his ears.

“Ouch!” Whined Mengai, he stopped his foolish scratching and turned towards the songbird perched on his shoulder. When his finger poked the wound again Wukong nipped once more with an angry chitter. “Okay, okay, I get it.” Groaned the black-furred monkey.

Wukong huffed, satisfied, truly he couldn't leave this Mengmeng alone even if he wanted to. The guy was too uncaring of himself! Luckily he had this mighty bimawen to watch over him. If the fool didn't want to care about himself, well, Wukong just had to care enough for the both of them.

Mengai stayed in the water until the pad of his fingers were as wrinkled as old plums. Then, he left the river and settled near the fire, letting the flames’ reflections dance in his night-black fur. It suddenly occurred to Wukong that, perhaps, he should have given his assistant some privacy while he was bathing. The bimawen knew humans were prickly when it came to nudity. They valued their privacy, not showing their naked bodies to anyone but a handful of trusting few. Wukong didn't fully understand this concept. Back in his days at the mountain, he ran around as naked as the moon, not caring if his body was for anyone to see. When he adopted the ways of man, he had a hard time understanding why people seemed almost ashamed of their nakedness. It was strange.

The songbird looked down at his assistant's body. He was lean, perhaps leaner than he ought to be. His limbs were overly long and thin, like the paws of a spider, and he had fuzzy fur, reminiscent of a young panda's coat. His build was more or less similar to Wukong's even if perhaps on a thinner side. The bimawen kept watching until his gaze fell on his assistant’s manhood. He knew humans were quite embarrassed by this part of their body, for one reason and another, but Wukong didn't feel anything about it in particular. It was a mundane body part, as normal as arms or legs. Still, the bimawen knew Mengai wasn't familiar with the ways of monkeys and so, perhaps, wasn't as comfortable as him with nudity. So, out of respect, Wukong turned away.

They stayed outside until the fire dried both Mengai and the hanfu. The black-furred monkey then put on his linen robe and put out the campfire. He returned to the mansion with the neatly folded hanfu in his arms. Wukong took flight and followed him until he disappeared behind the walls of his room. The bimawen hesitated a little, wondering if he should perch on the windowsill to make sure the fool was not messing with his wounds, or doing something equally stupid, but he decided against it.

As the saying goes, the weary bird knows to return.

***

Wukong woke up in the late morning. He filled his stomach with rosy peaches freshly picked from his orchard and rejoined Mengai at the front door. Like always, his assistant was waiting for him. Wukong got used to the sight. It was odd in a way. Would he feel disoriented if one day came when Mengai wouldn't wait for him in the doorway? Wukong usually wasn't the type to take notice of such little things, but he had to admit that his assistant presence was becoming something familiar, something he expected, something that dug itself in his everyday life. Wukong lingered on the thought for a few seconds before brushing it away. He had other things to worry about, like his horses.

The bimawen nodded at his assistant, at which Mengai replied with a nod of his own, and they both headed towards the stables in silence.

“You can begin with…” Wukong cut himself when he saw Mengai pick up the shovel and enter one stall. The bimawen blinked for a few seconds before following his assistant, he leaned over the stall and watched as Mengai dutifully cleaned it.

“You want me to do something?” Asked the black-furred monkey once he noticed Wukong's insistent stare.

“No, I'm just marveling about the wonders of adaptability.” Hummed Wukong, truly monkeys were creatures of great flexibility. With how he was handling the shovel, one could think Mengai had been doing it his whole life. Seemingly the out-of-water fish that arrived weeks ago was now swimming in his element. Some could even say it leaped over the Dragon Gate. As he thought of that, he saw Mengai flinch the moment the dragon-horse perked up, the black-furred monkey was clutching his shovel as if it was a mighty weapon capable of defeating any foes. Alright, maybe the fish wasn't totally over the Dragon Gate yet. Wukong put a hand on his chin and pondered on how to help his assistant overcome his fear of dragon-horses. Perhaps he should take him on the horses’ outing? He did give one lesson about riding, and even if it ended in mud, Mengai must have understood the basics, right? Yes, that seemed like a good idea.

“Actually, come with me after I'm done verifying the food.” Ordered the bimawen, Mengai squinted, perhaps suspicious of his intentions, but didn't question his orders and returned to his shoveling.

Once Wukong was done checking the food he waved Mengai over with a flick of wrist. The black-furred monkey put down his shovel and came his way. “I'm taking you on an outing with the horses.” Proudly declared Wukong as he ordered the clones to open the stalls. Mengai stilled for a second, becoming as rigid as ice, before replying :

“W-what? No, no, no, I don't know how to ride.”

“I gave you a lesson didn't I?” Retorted the bimawen with hands on his hips. His assistant looked like he gulped down an entire lemon. It was admittedly quite funny. Nonetheless, Wukong took pity on him. “Well, you can ride with me.” Sighed the russet-furred monkey with a shake of his head. Somehow, Mengai didn't look reassured by this oh so generous offer. Some would say he looked even more panicked.

Wukong turned around and walked towards Peach. She patted the floor in glee when she caught sight of him and leaned over, pressing her snout in his hands. The russet-furred monkey patted her scaled face and hopped on her back with a single jump, he steered her towards his assistant by shifting his weight forward. Peach was used to his silent commands. Any thrills on his skin was something she understood. Mengai looked up with flattened ears and widened eyes, tell-signs of his nervosity. Wukong straightened, trying to appear confident and somehow reassure his assistant, and offered his hand. Mengai glanced at his hands as if it was made of burning charcoal, but he eventually took it. Wukong hoasted his assistant at the back, he needed to be in front to lead Peach.

“Squeeze her with your legs and hold tight, alright?” Warned the bimawen, he felt his assistant tentatively grab hold of his red robe. The hold was so weak it could shatter with one gust of wind. “Don't you have any strength in those hands of yours? Why is your hold as weak as a baby's?” Huffed Wukong. Instantly, Mengai's hold became stronger, almost too tight for comfort. The russet-furred monkey smirked. He was beginning to understand how the other worked. One little push, one little mockery, and he would double down because of his pride. Wukong could relate in some ways. He hated when one dared to look down on him too. He wasn't as petty as Mengai though.

Wukong steered Peach forward, all the other horses followed her lead, stepping in her path. Peach hoasted herself on the mist with one decisive push. Wukong felt his assistant hold becoming tighter, fingers as taut as pulled bow strings. Peach pawed at the mist once she was settled and began to gallop. Wukong grinned. He felt her muscles burn under him. Each step reverberating to his very core. Behind them, the sounds of claws hitting mist became one single melody, one single wave taking all in its wake. The sun glided upon them. Rain of gold flowing in their mane. They were running in a tunnel of wind. It felt like the world was caving under their steps.

Wukong took a look at his assistant to see how he was fairing. Mengai was pressed against his back, eyes firmly shut, his long-tail tied all over his body in a pitiful attempt at shielding. The bimawen frowned, not liking the sight. “Open your eyes, I assure you it's worth it.” Tried to encourage Wukong, hoping it would be enough to galvanize his assistant.

“Living is also worth it.” Stubbornly replied the black-furred monkey as he buried himself in his boss's back. Wukong sighed. He could very well order Mengai to open his eyes but it wouldn't solve the problem in itself. After all, to conquer fear one must confront it alone. As much as he wanted to help, Wukong couldn't do anything if Mengai wasn't willing to try. But he could still try to push the other in the right direction. Wukong decided to use the one thing that always pushed Mengai forward : taunts.

“It's a shame really, I always thought you could stomach it, guess I was wrong.” Sang the bimawen, he made sure that his assistant could see the smirk blooming on his lips. Mengai immediately perked up, he glared at the russet-furred monkey with fire in his eyes.

The black-furred monkey straightened, trying to appear confident, even if the tremors shaking his fingers betrayed his true feelings. He slowly opened his eyes and looked around. At first his gaze was tentative, not daring to linger in the powerful force driving the herd. But the more he looked, the more he seemed to be taken by the sight.

“I love the feeling.” Mumbled Wukong as he leaned forward, almost as if trying to merge with Peach. Her scales brushed against his chest. They were warm. Almost made of fire. Mengai's ears flickered, a sign he was listening. “The feeling of being one unstoppable force. It's addictive. Listen to the concert of paws. To all the breaths becoming one. It's almost like we're melting into one giant beast.” He felt the other monkey shiver. Wukong couldn't fault him. The feeling of merging could be as daunting as it was exciting.

“I guess it's not… that bad.” Whispered his assistant, the words immediately taken by the wind, shattered by the brute force of the air hitting them. Wukong hummed. He guessed that was a victory in itself, to make someone as stubborn as Mengai recognize that what he thought was terrible was in truth not so much.

They kept running for a few more hours. Sometimes stopping in sun-bathed parts of the sky to bask in the light. They came back to the stables once they tired themselves enough. Wukong hopped off Peach and helped his assistant get off by tugging him down. The black-furred monkey stumbled forwards, luckily he caught himself before he could kiss the grass and glared at Wukong with poorly concealed anger. The bimawen snickered.

“You see, you liked it.” Preened Wukong.

“Like is a big word.” Huffed Mengai with crossed arms. Not willing to admit he enjoyed the ride more than he thought he would. “Besides, it was very dangerous. We could have fallen off the horse or worse.”

Wukong rolled his eyes. “Don't be so dramatic,you ate the peaches at the Peach Festival so you risk nothing.” Reasonned Wukong with a huff. Even if the fall could have been hurtful, they wouldn't have died off it.

“I, huh, actually I didn't eat any peaches at the festival.” Wukong stopped his train of thought, he whirled around and gazed at his assistant with despair.

“What do you mean you didn't eat any!? It was the whole point of the festival!” Groaned Wukong. He couldn't believe his assistant would miss such a golden occasion to taste the most perfect fruit to ever exist.

“Well, I was more focused on the wine. And then the whole thing with Erlang Shen happened..” Pitifully tried to explain Mengai. Wukong fave palmed. What a Mengmeng! How could he miss the most delicious banquet on earth? Yes, immortal wine was a fine delicacy, but it was nothing against immortal peaches!

“This won't do.” Huffed Wukong with determination.

“What?”

“No assistant of mine can go on without having a taste of immortal peaches.” What sort of boss would he be if he didn't provide his own assistant with a piece of perfection?

“But we don't have immortal peaches? All the peaches in your orchard are normal ones.” Argued Mengai. He wasn't wrong. He didn't have any immortal peaches on hand… So that left them with only one option.

“Yeah… Let's steal some from the Immortal Orchard!”

***

Wukong would have thought that, with his overly cautious nature, Mengai would be against the idea of stealing the immortal peaches. But against all odds, the black-furred monkey seemed very excited at the thought. Both monkeys traveled until they were above the Orchad, then they landed near the entry, hidden behind a red tiled bridge.

“So why aren't we just barging in?” Asked Wukong with a raised eyebrow. Usually, when he wanted to steal something, he didn't bother with details, he just took what he wanted and ran without caring if anyone saw him.

“We need a plan.” Answered Mengai as if it was obvious.

“Barging in is easier.” Huffed the bimawen. Mengai looked at him as if he was the biggest idiot on earth. Wukong didn't like this look.

“The whole point of being a thief is to not be found out.” Pointed out the black-furred monkey. “Who are the ones in charge of the Orchad?”

Wukong thought about the question. He was friends with most of the constellations and spirits here, so he knew quite a lot about what type of person they were and where they were working. “The Immortal Maidens take care of the trees. Some earth spirits too but they won't stop us.”

“Who is the Immortal Maidens’ boss?” Asked Mengai, his six ears perked up, the russet-furred monkey wondered if he could hear what was happening in the Orchad. It was quite fascinating to see in a way. The soft appendages fluttered delicately, like the wings of a butterfly. He had the sudden urge to nip at them.

“The Lady Queen Mother.” Replied Wukong while he repressed his urge to nip at the soft ears. He couldn't do that in this form.

“The one who organized the Peach Festival?” Asked the black-furred monkey, Wukong nodded. Mengai cleared his throat and wetted his lips. He then opened his mouth and spoke with a perfect imitation of the Lady Queen Mother's voice : “Ladies, I need your help. Can you come outside of the Orchard?”

Wukong was dumbfounded. It wasn't difficult to change one voice with magic but Mengai was doing it naturally. He even managed to replicate the Lady Queen Mother accent! The russet-furred monkey definitely had to ask about this ability later on. The Immortal Maidens rushed out of the Orchard, their gowns flying like the wings of exotic birds. They had thin legs and long necks, reminiscent of cranes, and when they walked, one could almost believe they were floating.

Mengai crouched down and quietly approached them. He stuck to the shadows, slithering in the darkness. Wukong watched him with excitement, eager to see what his assistant would do. The black-furred monkey was incredibly silent, he moved with the stealth of an owl. He crawled in the maiden back and let out a long breath imbued in magic. One by one, the maiden fell unconscious. Wukong realized his assistant used the sleeping spell. He didn't know Mengai had knowledge in spellcraft! Decidedly, he learned a lot about his assistant today.

Wukong hopped off his hideout and clapped, his assistant thieving skills were genuinely impressive. Mengai scowled and waved his clapping away with a flick of wrist “Don't mock me.” Grumbled the black-furred monkey.

“I'm not mocking you, Mengmeng. It was very impressive.” Huffed Wukong as he approached his assistant, he was careful to not wake up the sleeping maiden. Mengai observed him for a few seconds, perhaps trying to see if he could spot any traces of lies. When he realized the other was being honest, he scratched his neck in embarrassment and muttered :

“Thanks.” Wukong smiled. Proud to get a “thanks” out of such a stubborn mouth. “Don't be cocky.” Mumbled the black-furred monkey as he entered the Orchard, Wukong eagerly followed after him.

The Immortal Orchard trees were even more towering than his own. Each trunk was marked by age. Long sinuous bark which lived for thousands of years. As sturdy as pillars, as tall as palaces. Each one filled with the radiant fresh blossoms of an everlasting spring. Pink danced in the wind with the musk of peaches. The sun bathed the place in light, as if it blessed the soil itself. Wukong hurried to climb one tree, he settled on the lowest branch and looked up at the peaches with drool pooling in his mouth. Mengai followed his example. He had more trouble with the climbing but he still managed to join Wukong. The bimawen was almost proud that his lesson on climbing bore fruit.

“Behold perfection.” Huffed Wukong as he gestured towards the peaches. Mengai raised an eyebrow but made no comments. The russet-furred monkey picked two peaches soaked in sunlight, they were glowing like faces reddened by wine. He handed one to his assistant and kept the other for himself.

Mengai inspected the peach, weighing it in his hand with a clouded look. “Why do you look so troubled? Eat it!” Encouraged Wukong.

“... What does it feel like to be immortal?” Asked the black-furred monkey instead.

“You're kind of already immortal since you drank the wine.” Argued Wukong, his assistant flinched at the revelation, perhaps he didn't think of that.

“I guess that's true.” Sighed Mengai. Wukong didn't like the look clouding his face. He looked down at his own peach and wondered what he should say. Immortality was a broad subject. And perhaps what Mengai wanted to hear wasn't what Wukong experienced. The bimawen caressed his peach with the pad of his thumb, his finger grazed the rosy duvet of the fruit.

“Immortality is a long life, that's true. So I say let's enjoy it.” Concluded Wukong as he took a bite of the peach. Mengai looked at him for a few seconds before letting out an airy chuckle, he took a bite of his own peach.

As always, immortal peaches were the most delicious fruit to ever exist. Juice flooded his mouth. It felt like fresh naturally sugared water taken out of the purest river. The sweetness of the peach lingered in his mouth even after he swallowed the bite. Like a ghost dancing on his tongue. Never leaving. Never forgetting. Mengai seemed to enjoy his peach with the same fervor.

Wukong snickered when he saw juice flowing in his assistant's mane. The other was so taken by the heavenly taste he forgot his manners, letting juice fall all over him. “You need some grooming.” Pointed out the bimawen. Mengai regained his spirit and looked down at himself with disgust. “I can do it for you.” Chirped the russet-furred monkey, it was the perfect occasion to teach grooming to his assistant. Truly he was a genius. Wukong didn't let Mengai answer, he scouted closer and tugged at the other linen robe, intending to remove it.

Mengai shuffled away and crossed his arms on his chest, almost as if guarding it. “What are you doing, you pervert.” He accused.

“I can't groom you if you're all clothed. Besides, I already saw you naked.” Huffed Wukong.

“What? When!?” The bimawen was about to answer but stopped himself once he realized he shouldn't speak about his time as a songbird. He raked his brain for an excuse and luckily found one rather quickly.

“When I took you to the bath after you fell on your first riding lesson.” Mengai relaxed a little once the memory hit him.

“Still, I don't want to be naked in front of you.”

“Would it make you feel better if I was naked too?” Proposed Wukong, hoping his proposition would even the shame, if it was even possible.

“No? Why would you even think it would?” Groaned the black-furred monkey. Wukong sighed. He had to find something to make the other agree… Perhaps he should use taunts? It worked well enough the last time.

“I understand… My naked body is a sight to behold, it's too much for your puny eyes.” Dramatically sighed Wukong as he leaned over the bark, looking like he was bearing some sort of ill-fated curse. Mengai scoffed.

“Of course not.” Gritted the black-furred monkey. The bimawen hid his smile in the palm of his hand and kept acting.

“Soo it wouldn't bother you if I was naked?”

“No…”

Wukong beamed , he shimmied out of his robe, proudly exposing himself. “You see? Nothing to be ashamed of. We're just monkeys.” Mengai looked very flustered. His face was reddening like an erupting volcano. But then, after a few minutes of observation, he gradually calmed down, regaining his poise. Somehow, it wasn't as embarrassing as Mengai had thought it would be. It almost felt mundane in a way. Perhaps because Wukong himself wasn't feeling any shame, it was almost difficult to be embarrassed by his nakedness.

“... I'm keeping my pants.” Groaned the black-furred monkey as he removed the top of his robe and folded it neatly beside him. Wukong chirped in delight. He scouted closer and touched the other monkey's arms. Mengai flinched as if he was being burned. It wasn't the first time Wukong noticed this odd reaction coming from his assistant. For all it was worth, the bimawen decided to be gentle.

He slowly ran his claws in the other fur and began to groom him. Smoothing out strands and removing grime and peach juice. “Grooming has to be meticulous.” Hummed Wukong, he purposefully took strands on the other’s chest to show him what he was doing. “First you have to inspect. See if there is any dirt, parasites or debris. Then you remove them.” He was very careful with the other's scalp. Not wanting to worsen his wounds. Mengai's gaze was intently following his gestures, perhaps finding familiarity in something so imbued in any monkey’s nature. The bimawen purposefully scouted closer, pressing his shoulder against Mengai's, offering a clear view of his nape and side.

He felt Mengai's gaze zero on those areas, and soon, clumsy little fingers tentatively touched his fur. Wukong stood still, letting the other monkey find his own rhythm. It was instinct for monkeys to groom back when they were being groomed. Beyond cleaning purposes, grooming served a primordial social function, it was a way to strengthen the bonds within a troop. As such, it was natural to reciprocate grooming.

“I'm bad at it.” Groaned Mengai with a frustrated tone.

“You'll get the hang of it the more you do it.” Hummed Wukong as he removed the dirt hidden in every nook and crannies of his assistant.

“I don't know… I don't have a lot of talents. Maybe I'm just naturally bad.” Humorlessly chuckled the macaque.

“That's not true.” The bimawen felt the black-furred monkey fingers stutter. “You can cook, clean and fish. You can even change your voice without magic. That's a lot of skills.”

“... Everyone can do that.” Mumbled Mengai with a frown.

“I can't.” Blurted Wukong in a bout of frustration. Even if he didn't want to admit his own weakness, it was somehow frustrating to see Mengai downplay his own skills. Perhaps, to other people, his assistant's skills were nothing but mundane, but to him, they were fascinating to behold. Each person had their own strength. And it was somewhat saddening to realize Mengai didn't see his. Wukong bit his lips, wondering if he should keep his feelings to himself. He didn't like the helplessness that came with exposing his own heart. Yet in the face of such stubborn self-dislike, he decided that letting out a sliver of his thoughts would do more good than harm. “I know you don't like yourself. But for all it's worth coming from me, I think you're pretty likable.”

Mengai stilled, his entire body stopping in time. Wukong wondered if he said something wrong. Perhaps he should change the subject? Comfort was never his forte. Truly he shouldn't meddle with another's mental health. As he thought this, Mengai's head dropped on his shoulder. Wukong flinched, surprised by the action. He was about to grumble, annoyed that his assistant didn't warn him before letting his head fall, but he stopped himself.

Something wet was rolling on his shoulder. Wukong stiffened and slowly turned towards the black-furred monkey. There was no mistaking. Mengai was crying, trying to hide the proof of his feelings in the bimawen's fur, almost as if he wanted to smother them.

“Not a word.” Croacked his assistant with a shaking voice.

Wukong stood still, awkwardly letting the other cry on his shoulder. After a few minutes of inner debate, he stiffly patted the other on the back, hoping it would somehow ease what was seizing him so violently.

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[notdysfunk]

HELLO!!!

I am so very intrested in your Stars of a feather AU and wanted to ask a few questions if that's okay!

1) Are people who can't fly/ have small wings/ have NO wings looked down apon in society? Like a disability? Or do only some of the population have wings and its seen as a blessing?

2) Do partners/ parents/ friends groom each others wings? Is it seen as an intimate thing for partners? Kinda like birds? Or is it up to the individual to groom their own wings?

3) Are there various types of wings? Like Swan wings? Butterfly wings? Bat wings? Is it strictly feathered wings? Or again does it vary from person and race?

Thankyou for taking the time to read!! 💚

HAII!! HELLO!!!

I'm so glad you're interested aa!! I got so excited when I saw some questions abt this raah!! 💕💞 1) WHEW this is a packed question!! There /are/ quite a few people who have wings that are too small, damaged, or otherwise useless that make them unable to fly. Luckily, the world is quite down-to-earth (lol), so most everything is accessible from the ground, for this exact reason. (This world is very similar to ours, just people have wings LOL) Typically the most 'looked down upon' thing that I can think of has to do with the person's pride in their wings. People who are unable to fly, or even just have broken wings, might feel more insecure about them. Everyone has wings, but those who have more wings or bigger wings might be considered 'lucky' or 'blessed'. Causing this insecurity in others. (Sun takes pride in his wings, but he's humble <3)

2) Outside of the typical bath, some people will likely need to pick their wings for feathers that haven't fallen out yet... Which can be a little challenging on your own...

It's usually up to the person themselves, but a little help is nice!!

3) This is a rlly good question LOL There probably isn't many types of wings outside of feathered ones. Personally, I only really like drawing feathered wings so that's probably the most you'll see... . .. ... Different colors, type, number of, and size are the main differing factors to the wings though!

Honestly worldbuilding everything as I go, I just got asked to draw Sun/Moon with wings and it's slowly evolving HEHE!! And thank YOU for asking!! 💕💞💥💥

[npdkondraki]

kiryu labs plotlines are so funny to me its like. mark and riven having a nice happy family and having children and then zyn is having horrendous prophecy nightmares and being groomed by the council to be the nexet kondraki and theres nothing she can do to stop it and shes just like "waow these butterflies sure do love me isnt that cool shen :-)" and shen might as well be dead in a corner with how much screentime he gets