#I guess this is what being immortal does to you

[kyri45]

✨ShadowPeach Bio Parents Bio AU Q&A! 28/09✨

Welcome to the Q&A! A space where I can answer related or similar question about the Shadowpeach Bio Parents AU! If you submitted your ask anonimously, then you’ll have to check the whole post if it’s answered here, if it’s not, worry not! Your asks might have been used for a future comic or just in the queue~

Anonimo ha chiesto: I am going to ask you to make a difficult decision… freenoodles or Shadowpeach

(Freenoodles, in my opinion, is just barely better than shadowpeach. Just because of how gay they are in season five. I mean, look at them and tell me they aren’t married.)

Sooo I go with shadowpeach. Freenoodle is like my comfort shit. so many cute and funny shenanigans, for me they are just the married couple who would probably have the healtiest of the relationship. They have teh experience, they went already throught all the "obliviouss-ness" and the "what if they don't love me" yadda yadda.

But Shadowpeach. Ow man. I thought the ineffable housband ship was complex. but god. oh god. how wrong I was. like- these two went from friends, to brothers, to lovers, to enemies, to friends again and to be lover again. They fucked up so much nothing will ever be the same. But they still weak for each other. They are at each other throat and also they know the other in the most intimate way. they are immortal. One of them fucking killed the other. They thought the other left them and betrayed and went both drama to forget (one choose found family, the other murder but anyway-)

Like- WHAT SHIP CAN BE MORE COMPLEX THAN THIS?????

Anonimo ha chiesto: Does MK have a favorite between his bio parents

oUH NO POOR MONKEYS. He doesn't, but he has a favourite depending on the context. Like, for training he prefers Macaque because he explains a lot better than Wukong, but sparring with Wukong is much funnier, but he prefers Macaque scratches and grooming, but he loves Wukong squeezing hugs, etc...

Anonimo ha chiesto: You know, I just realized something. So you know how people in the fandom give Macaque lotus nicknames since his ears kind of resemble lotus flowers. Well since MK has both Wukong and Macaque's ears that kind of makes MK's ears resemble Peace Lilies (which is kind of ironic since MK is the Harbinger of Chaos)

Aww I guess they do look like them!

Anonimo ha chiesto: I may sound a little to mean but Mk din't suspect a thing aout macaques eye? he has multiple forms were his eye is a cross i mean, i would think smt happend to that eye but that just me uu I LOVE UR ART IT MAKES ME WANT TO KMS /POS

He surely suspected something happened to Mac eye but he didn't know how that happened.

@queen-of-purple-roses ha chiesto: I have a question and you don’t have to answer it if you don’t have too; since we’ve seen Macaque feel guilty with how he treated MK in the past, does Monkey King feel guilty about all the dangerous moments that MK was put in, since most if not all of the fighting ends up on MK’s plate and not Wukong’s.

Oh absolutely, the more time passes he feels more and more guilty.

@catbox730 ha chiesto: Can we get more MK and Red Son please

mayyyyyybe. If you guys behave

Anonimo ha chiesto: It would be funny seeing MK‘s dads going to a doctor with him for like getting his wisdom teeth removed or something xD

The parents being extremely worried that something will go wrong while MK is super chill. When the dentist comes out of the operating room they grab him and ask him if he survived while MK is just eating ice cream post-surgery.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Will MK ever fight against one of his parents in a serious battle ? Or be forced to fight one of them ?

mmm. Probably. Maybe in the future they have a discussion. Nothing maybe too serious. But not in the AU plans.

What is Wukongs and/or Macaques biggest nightmare(s) I imagine it would be something like seeing MK die or sacrificing himself again or something like that

I think Wukong is more terrified of being alone. So actually I think it would be worse for him that MK doesn't want to see him anymore.

Anonimo ha chiesto: so who is going to be MK‘s hero that he worships ? I don’t know if he still sees Monkey king in that way after finding out that he is basically his dad and hearing the past the fight with Macaque….

Maybe he wont have any hero. Maybe worshipping someone is not such a healthy thing to do. ( I'm not talking in a religious way of course, I meant worshipping a living normal person)

@emmais333 ha chiesto: Love your MK art. One question how many fights from Wukong and Mac does MK overhear on accident

He heard the first one (and the past one through the vision) then Wkong and Mac started to teleport far away enough so he wont be able to hear them discuss.

Anonimo ha chiesto: What if MK catches Mac and Wukong in the act, not visually, but audibly, like hearing it when going to flower feuit mountain, finding the monkeys in a pile, all traumatized. Or is it too soon? Do they get drunk enough to not care? Do they even drink?

in the....act? (sorry I don't understand stuff if it's not explicited said, like I can't understand double meanings if that was what you meant)

Anonimo ha chiesto: I LOVE YOUR STORY, REALLY!!!! I reread a lot. So lovely. And the Baby MK, I just want to hug so badly 🥺 ( I think Macaque become Protecting mode and he won't let me do it. ) You draw Baby MK so so so cute. My heart can't handle it.❤️ Maybe it's a terrifying idea but I would like know your thoughts. I think that Macaque sleeps very quietly, like a man in a coffin.  + Macaque fell into a very deep DEEP sleep. (maybe because he was tired from fighting demons to protect Baby MK or get injured or something?) = How do you think Sun Wokung will react?

o my god NO DON'T GIVE HIM AN HEARTH ATTACK (heloses one of their immortalities for having the most horrrendous of jumpscares)

@raspberrymixin ha chiesto: AHHH I LOVE YOU SHADOW PEACH BIO AU OMG ITS TO FREAKEN CUTEEEE AAHH I just melt into a puddle! Love you art and make sure to take breaks- anyway- I find it cute how redson interacts with MK I can just imagine him giving him stuff and little gifts and Mk just confused on why but takes it anyway because of friendship and maybe a sign he's trusting more- but MK is just oblivious to the courting- And maybe redson would ask Wukong, Macaque, Tang or pigsy to allow it maybe? And I also love the slow burn! It's just cute on how Macaque and Wukong make each other blush! Awww it's just to cute! I hope you're doing amazing and have a good night/day

Oh man MK would not be able to read a single clue and just think it's a symbol of friendship or wathever. O my god he really did take from his parents (all of them)

fayeangel25 ha chiesto: YOUUU UFUFFHH WHEN I GET YOUUUUU anyways, I wanna see wukong asking macaque about the story of him and mac ( after mamacaque storytelled his lil baby mk ) , cuz i wanna see more flustered macaque!!! Also, 👏 EATING 👏 THIS 👏 AU 👏 UP!!

Hehe he would be a little shy about it. But Macaque is a theater kid so for a bigger audience I guess he would do it.

Anonimo ha chiesto: I feel like I’m new here. What is Court napping?

Consensual Kidnapping with the intend of flirting with another demon.

Anonimo ha chiesto: How many people want to court MK now that he is a real stone monkey AND the son of Wukong and Macaque ?

mmm. Only people close to MK knows that he's the bio kid of shadowpeach. So for now only Red Son

Anonimo ha chiesto: I bet PIF would try to wait for MK to lose the good guy ‘phase’ since she went through that before lmao (forget being good, convert to villainy in the name of love)

Awwww she would!!! But MK is just too good hearted to hurt a fly. (yeah I know he technically has a kill count still-)

Anonimo ha chiesto: MK would obviously call Pigsy "Papa" so what would MK call Tang and Sandy?

I think he would actually call Pigsy "dad" since it's what he calls him that in the show. Maybe it's Tang that gets to be called Papa. I think Sandy is more like an uncle.

@mage-of-words ha chiesto: When will Wukong purpose to Macaque?

WOW- HOLD ON THERE. LET HIM TAKE HIM TO DINNER FIRST.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Omg I wonder if Macaque and Monkey King ever saw MK get really hurt during a battle with a new demon. RIP the Demon bc two feral Monkeys are after them now bc they hurt their kid.

Them to said demon: So you have choosen.... death.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hear me out, Mac and Wukong in a get along shirt for a day (lost a bet to MK and he planned this too) LOVE YOUR ART TOO ITS SO SCRUMDIDDLYUMPTIOUCIOUS

this is an old ask, sorry for taking so long to answer. But I would say that at this point of the story Wukong would probably be at cloud 9 being squished to super soft macaque all day. Macaque would be like a kitten undecided on wheter he loves or hate the situation (doesn't really likes un-warned physical touch.

Anonimo ha chiesto: Hoi there, I found you again! (Following you on Insta as well because your art is awesome ^^)

Reading your LMK ShadowPeaches comics and they are fun. And now my brain can't help but make up scenarios, one like this one. Oh my, MK is a cute little baby! (^///^) Oh my, MK is a little baby!! ('O_O) Welp, Pigsy is going to kill someone unless Wukong gives baby MK into his arms to calm down and be busy being a dad than a raging Hulk. (:P) Also, I imagine MK accidentally shrinking himself, (Wukong decided to play hide and seek with it only to later on regret it). Wukong would freaking out about it, and Macaque then shook him violently while yelling into his face for losing MK. Then out of Nowhere, Nezha shows up at the door frame and be like 'Um, hey guys. Is this yours?' Points at his nose where tiny baby bean MK was, clinging onto Nezha's nose while giggling.

askjajvbks that's a lovely scene! Unfortunately Nehza can't know yet about MK, but maybe he will...

@lara-legomonkiekid 💜:Hey! I'm here to ask permission!Can I make an art Drawing of your Bio parents AU Meeting One of my AU's?Please?(Mostly Suposed to be Meeting One of my OC's!) (Love Your Art and Comics!!!!)(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)(⁠◍⁠•⁠ᴗ⁠•⁠◍⁠)

Yeah sure! just be sure to tag me and link the masterpost of the AU

Anonimo ha chiesto: I find it funny how your shadowpeach bio au came from a joke and now.....wow Your art is amazing

My friend even tried to warn me. BUT I DIDN'T LISTEN

Anonimo ha chiesto: I need Freenoodles talking late at night about MK's new situation Will they be worried? Happy? I don't think Pigsy will take it very well that just when he and MK accepted each other as Father and Son, he is (partly) taken away by his biological dads.

Pigsy was mostly worried that Wukong or Macaque would hurt in any way MK. Both ahim and Tang after they saw how much the 2 care about MK calmed down, still they just hope they don't mess up things.

Anonimo ha chiesto: parenting it not just about having fun with your children, but also making sure there are boundaries even if the child isn’t happy about it. So, how would it go if Macaque and Wukong would try to ground MK 😂

MK is a little old for being grounded I think but if they were to do it maybe with something like no training for a week or smt. He's still an adult (i know we sometimes forget)

Anonimo ha chiesto: MK trying to prank his parents and wake them up with a loud instrument or sound. MK forgetting he has sensitive hearing 💀

reverso uno card

Anonimo ha chiesto: Would wukong or MK help macaque in his drawings if he asked 🙃 or if they tried to help him improve

Awww they would!!! Actually what if this creative side of him was something he kind of inherted from Wukong?

[worldwhampion]

Unhinged null discussion 2023 event

we have roasted the the LIVING SHIT out of null on discord

[possum-socks]

okay, genuinely, how the fuck did shadow the hedgehog survive a fall to earth from outer space ???

and why is nobody more shocked when they see him in heroes? if i saw a guy alive and well after he presumably splatted on the ground at terminal velocity i would have a lot more questions than they did

give me your theories because i am at a loss

[hide-your-bugs-away]

Connie brings Mental Illness to Cleveland, Ohio 🙏🐾✨️

[wiedzmacienia]

Would you rather give up your magic to live a normal life, or keep your magic and never hold any genuine human connections? (There's no anon option, so I guess I have to be called out lol.)

eyes narrow in the light of the campfire, wood crackling and heat meeting her skin that's made it crawl for centuries yet she can not move with the young boy who's head lays on her lap having fallen asleep (she imagined she'd have to carry him back to his tent at some point). maybe she shouldn't have come here, even if the knightley boys had asked her to when she'd been to see beth. they'd found a few soldiers they'd felt able to confide in about themselves, soldiers who seemed to accept them once one of them had used his powers to save the other, and it's from this that such a question has been brought forth. she knows it is not out of malice and yet, it still awakens something deep within her. a memory she's locked away for ages in the depths of her soul. maybe they think her standoffish because she is so much less open than the boys. but she can not afford to be like them when she must direct her forces by the day. these boys were young. too young and had yet to truly understand the world even if they were serving in an army now let alone understand magic or it's role in the world.

there was one day, no, a mere few hours within her life that katarzyna had wished she could have shed her magic from her body and lived a so called normal life. that she could have been as human as the rest of her village. the moment men who had been smiling at the children just the day before entered their home with violence and tore her and her brother from their beds, binding them and dragging them outside. when she had screamed for her brother as wooden posts had been erected. there had been no trial or recourse. no amount of pleading for their lives had halted them from being beaten for speaking the foul words of creatures they'd said. it had been them who had brought the plague upon them they believed. yet was it not the twins whom only sought to save an elderly woman from the pain of such plague? fires had been lit and pain seared their bodies and in those moments she wished they could have been anything but what they were. for to have been born as such had been their death sentence.

but then they had been reborn from the ashes and her whole world view had been shaken. her parents had given of themselves to bring them back and she no longer saw her power as something to shy away from. her parents had believed in magic. had believed in the worth of her and her brother and what they could bring to the world. and she vowed to never seek to be anything but what she was again.

to never be weak and powerless again.

greenish-blue hues move over the fire and meet the human speaking to her. was she not making a human connection now? perhaps once she believed being what she was separated her from the human world. perhaps in the respect that she lived longer than humans it did. but this war and the people she had begun to meet made her begin to question such. maybe making connections with humans wasn't about how long you knew them or preventing one's self from becoming close because of the eventual loss but the value of the time spent with them. no, she did not think having magic equated to a lack of forming human connections, genuine ones. not if she didn't allow it to.

after all, while it had never been the intention, she cared for-- no, she could acknowledge it was more than that now as she ran her hand through the young boy's curls, she held a motherly love for auggie in a way she had never believed she could possess before-- and tended to the human child more often than not these days. sometimes the intensity of which she believed she would protect the boy scared even her for if there was a choice between him and someone else, she held no doubt of what she would choose even if it could mean burning the world in the process. but did her love toward the boy not equate to a genuine connection? and was her magic not the very thing which could allow her to protect him? was such love not a normal part of life?

"why can i not have both?" she questions, gaze drifting over the man's shoulder to see the major approaching. ah, perhaps she would not have to carry auggie back to his tent herself after all. still, she continues, looking back at the questioning soldier without care for the major hearing her words, for they were truth and she would not deny her connection to the boy at this point even if she has no idea what it would look like once this war was done.

"is there some book of rules which state i can not have magic and hold connections with humans who i love? that i can not still have something of a normal life with them?" and with that she looks down upon auggie and begins to shift him gently without waking him, picking him up so that his head falls to her shoulder. strangely, the heat of the campfire seems to affect her less, a different kind of warmth washing over her as she raises from their perch on the log and moves to meet tallmadge. "come to collect the little terror? i think him, cora, and furgus just about defeated half the soldiers in camp charging them while wearing your helmet today."

@honorhearted

[sinning-23]

Backseat Pillow Princess

Hey y'all! I like to call this game, "Guess what I saw and cant stop fucking thinking about?" Take this because I need them both carnally and I'm sure you do too!

Enjoy :D

Warnings: violence, blood, swearing, the reader is annoying and Logan pretends to hate it in a way that seems like he actually does, they should have fucked but uhhh they didn't, lots of tension, pt.2 coming soon hopefully?

PT.2 UP NOW

"Bae i love youuu, you my everythinggg~"

"Can she shut the fuck up"

"I'm your main bitchhhh, fuck a wedding ringggg~"

"Only if you ask her nicely,"

"Nah, I like when he's mean."

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me"

The nonstop back-and-forth bickering had been going on for about 2 and a half hours now and the man the myth the legend, Wolverine was getting dangerously tired of it, unfortunately. Your shitty renditions of Sexyy Red matched with Deadpools incessant yapping was becoming too much to bear.

But little did he know, that was exactly your plan.

"Are we there yetttt" You whine from the backseat, sprawled out with your arm over your face.

It had been what felt like days (despite it only being a couple hours as previously mentioned) you'd been driving and the fact that you were in a small space filled with touch-starved testosterone(Wade and Logan) wasn't helping your case.

"If you shut up it'll go faster," Logan grumbles, Wade's chatting only worsening.

"No, it won't, you're just being mean! What's a sexy, super talented, immortal.. sorta, girl like myself supposed to do?" You whine again, an idea soon popping into your head.

If there was anything you loved more than seeing how far you could push this crotchety son of a bitch, it was stirring the pot.

Knowing the idiot riding passenger, a slip-up was inevitable and all it would take was the right pressure applied from yours truly.

"Hey Wade, wanna ask Wolvie what he's gonna do when he gets back? To his own timeline that is." You hum, resting your elbows on the middle console and your chin in your palms.

Ah yes, the fantasy your sick little brain conjured up was almost to fruition. All they needed were a few nudges and you'd all be at each other's throats with as much violent, sexual tension you could dream of.

"Yeah, what will you do if the TVA can fix your timeline?"

Bingo

You lean back, preparing for the absolute bloodbath that's bound to take place as the tension skyrockets.

Now up until this point, you'd be trying your damndest to get into Wolverine's pants, call it 'something you needed to scratch off your bucket list'. Anyway, from the "Mad Max"(as Wade put it) esque part of the void all the way here, you made your fair share of passes.

Unfortunately, all were shot down with a snark comment, the unsheathing of those gorgeous adamantium claws, or a growl...all of which only further fueled your desire. What could you say you liked a challenge?

"What did you say?"

You lean forward, making eye contact with Wade, his head shaking as if to say "No don't don't don't" but you were never good with social cues.

"He said 'IF' sweetheart." You retort, practically kicking your feet as the look in Logan's eyes grows wild, that growl barely bubbling in his throat as he and Wade converse back and forth.

"You shut the fuck up." He seethes, though directed at you his eyes stay focused on Wade.

You fight the urge to say 'make me" but you soon become quiet when Logan really starts to read your buddy in red. Oh, this fucker was definitely projecting...

"And you," He's got an accusatory, gloved finger pointing at the center of your face.

"You got some unresolved daddy issues or something? I don't know what hole or holes you're trying to fill but I can sure as shit tell you the harder you try to get under my skin the more it makes me wanna rip yours off that pretty-looking face." He growls, your heart practically beating out of your chest.

"Now I suggest each of you shut your goddamn mouths until we are where we need to be."

It's silent for a second again and you can feel the bridge about to break...anyyy second now.

"I'm gonna fight you now."

Three...

Logan chuckles, amused at the fact that Wade would even suggest he could getaway with something like that

Two..

And mid-sentence, Wade's fists make contact with Logan's nose.

One.

You scoot back, the car shaking as Wades head makes contact with hr car door and then the radio, each smack of his skull changing the station.

“Omg nooo don’t kill each other you’re both so hot and sexy and cool, nooo.” You yelp, your false concerned pleas falling on deaf ears.

And once the blood from each blow splatters against your face, you feel a bit opted to join in. Besides, he hurt your feelings, he deserved a little ass-kicking.

Question, when three seemingly frustrated and regenerative assholes get into a car fight with tensions, sexual or otherwise, that have been building for about 2 days now, what happens?

You slip past the pair of claws that just barely nick your side as you shove the driver's seat forward, effectively trapping Logan for a moment.

"You did this on purpose! You honry fuck!" Wade shouts, using his elbow to crack your skull and shoved you right back into your spot behind them before you can respond. Logan pushed the seat back again, now trapping you as his claws stabbed through the cushion, impalling you through the back of the seat.

"FUCK! This isn't how this was supposed to pan out in my head!" You yelp, gasping when the claws leave you feeling the worst kind of empty.

"I didn't even do anything he's the one that lied!" You seethe, using the heel of your boot to kick Wade's side in, the crack of bones bringing you much satisfaction.

"IT WAS AN EDUCATED WISH!" He defends, unloading about 3 bullets into your sternum before kicking Logan out the winsheild, glass falling inside and out.

You take a gulp of air, digging the bullet out before locking your arm around Wade's neck and the passenger seat headrest.

"You red-clad cunt! I was supposed to rizz him up, fuck him, and ride off into the sunset with my rugged fucking mountain of a man and you RUINED IT!" You shout, releasing Wade when six separate knives dig right back into you.

Taking the chance, you throw the back of your head at his face before pulling his claws from out your sides and kicking Wade's chest in. Looks like legs were your strong suit today!

"You said you didn't wanna fill any holes, yet here we are!" You growl in frustration, turning back around to shove your boot heel into this man's rock-hard chest.

He only grabs your ankle, pulling you forward, once again skewered by his claws. Your position is less than ideal, any other angle would for sure look l like you were on the receiving end of some damn good strokes.

And there it is, that stupid bloodied grin he gives while he watches your eyes squeeze shut and your head tilt back. A light, yet pained swear left your bloodied lips and the gasp that leaves your lungs when his claws retracted was just as erotic as you'd imagine.

"Would've been better off fucking at this point huh?" You joke, seeing Wade creep up behind the backseat door.

"Maybe." He responds a bit coy, the tension only dying down for a fraction of a second before you're at each other's throats again.

With your help, Wade is right back in the car, and the three of you are now waiting for the next move. Logan's up against the dash, Wade is heaving against the backseat by your side, the two of you manspreading with a dangerously hungry look directed at the man in yellow.

"This is pointless. We're gonna be here for hours regenerating and fucking each other up, but damn if it isn't fun." you chuckle, letting your head lull back against the completely destroyed headrest.

"So what do you suggest, 'sweetheart'," Logan growls, using your little pet name from earlier.

"Oh I think you know very well what I suggest, but I'm starting to believe you just can get it up can you peepaw?" You insult, Logan's face contorting in a sneer.

There's another silence, your gaze locked with Logan's as you both teeter on the edge of regular frustration and the urge to rip each other's clothes off. This fuckers love language was definitely acts of playful violence...if playful meant an absolute bloodbath in this stupid-ass honda odyssey.

"I feel like there's some underlying tension here that I definitely wanna be a part of.

"You shut the fuck up" You speak simultaneously, Wade doing just that.

"So what'll it be, bub. Fuck me or fight me?" You mock, seeing that smile right back on his face.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You would like to say that the remainder of the day, into the night, all the way into the wee hours of the morning were spent furiously love-making in the bloody and battered Honda, but that would only be half the truth.

The moonlight had shone so brightly down on the three of you, each movement calculated, as you continued to punch, stab, pick and damn near fuck each other in the enclosed space.

At one point your hands were pinned to the dented dashboard, Logan slotted between your legs, Wade right behind your oddly bent body....accept Wade's gun was at the small of your back and Logan had his hand wrapped tightly around your throat as your legs squeezed as tight as possible.

And at another, you'd been hovering above Logan, hands at his chest while Wade had a fistful of your hair, his grip lethal... a-although your hands were only at his chest cause you were double-fisting two knives that you had wedged to the hilt into each to his pectorals...and Wade was also pulling your hair to get a better angle at your chest since he deemed it was "only fair" considering you were going the same to the man beneath you.

It had only gotten worse, your comments ranging from rude to just plain nasty, and the farther along you went in the night....strangely enough, the better everything felt. The slight accidental/intentional grind of your hips against Logans, or the way you just so happened to fall back into Wade's chest, your bodies pressed so close together you could feel each breath you both took.

"Oh you just don't know when to quit, do you honey?" Logan grumbles, throwing you off him, your positions quickly switch.

"Not in my vocabulary sweetheart." You shoot back, gasping when Wade grips your hair again.

"Yeah, thought you were seeing the pattern ready peanut, she's hard to break." He chuckles, a filthy smile making its way over your bloodied face.

You were practically sandwiched, Wade behind you, his chest to your back, and your legs just barely make room for Logan who was kneeling one leg on the backseat, the other slightly off the edge.

"This is a little unfair don't you think? Feels like I'm about to get tag-teamed." You joke, the moonlight illuminating the current position just enough.

"You'd like that, wouldn't you? You're sick." Logan scoffs, only feeding into your slight delusions.

"Yeah, I might be sick but you're a hypocrite, You want it too, don't you? I know for sure Wade does, 'cause that's definitely not his gun on my ass." You shoot back, body and brain stirring from the hours of activities.

He doesn't say anything, just tightens he grip he has on your hips.

“Cmonnn, we had our nice,” you glance over at the destroyed radio, your hopes of trying to get the time seemingly crushed.

“We’ll say 9 hours give or take, we’ve already been fighting and none of us are really satisfied.”

You can feel Wade adjust, his hands now secure at your shoulders, massaging the small of your neck with his thumbs.

“We all know what’s gonna solve that and we can put this whole debacle behind us.” You coax, your hips rolling a bit to meet his and he turn his head, jaw working as if he was seriously considering the offer.

And with a finally huff what really sounded more like a growl of last restrained, he’s on you.

——————————————————————-

YES IM MAKING A PART TWO YES THERE WILL BE SMUT BECAUSE WTF YALL. UHHH HOPE YOU ENJOY LMK IF YOU WANNA BE TAGGED I. THE NEXT PART!

[ineffable-romantics]

Some thoughts on why and how I believe Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship would incorporate sex/why I do not read them as wholly asexual:

This is something I've seen the most discourse about in this fandom, and I've had a few thoughts of my own that I really wanted to expand upon in a full meta/character analysis post. I do understand that this can be a contentious topic, so first, let me clarify a few things:

First of all, this is going to be long. Tbh it probably won't be that organized either. I ramble and I'm not very good at editing, so just... you know. Be warned. (*Hi, it's me from 2 days after writing this; I'm really not kidding, it's LONG)

These are all my own thoughts. They might not be hot takes, because recently I've seen more than a few people come to the same conclusions on a lot of these points as I have. But I've also had these notes in my drafts for about a week and a half now, and have been continuously adding to it as things have occurred to me. This post is essentially just somewhere for me to collect the separate but related meta I've been kicking around in my head.

I fully respect anyone who does see and prefer an asexual reading of this relationship. These are my own thoughts and interpretations as someone who is not asexual. I am in the LGBT+ community, so while I do know a few things about the asexuality spectrum, I am by no means an expert.

This is NOT something I expect, need, or even necessarily want the show (or, God forbid, Neil's tumblr ask box) to address. Tonally, it's just not that kind of show. Newt and Anathema's sex scene was very much played for laughs, and it worked for that reason. If the show found a way to address it in a way that was both appropriate for the tone of the show and ultimately satisfying, then great! But there is so much more to this relationship than sex, and I didn't need a kiss to confirm their love, so I certainly don't need a sex scene. As immortal beings (as I assume they'll stay) there is so much of the rest of their lives we'll never get to see. You can headcanon them as asexual and potentially be right. I can headcanon them as not and be equally potentially right. Again, these are just a collection of my own thoughts, because I think the question of sexuality (or lack thereof) is just as interesting a facet of these characters as any other.

Note: Tbh I've been second-guessing this whole post and debated deleting the whole thing several times for being silly or unnecessary, bc I don't want anyone to think that this is the only thing I care about when it comes to this story/characters. But if nothing else, it's inspired me to write in a way that nothing has in a very long time, so I've decided it's worth continuing, if for no other reason than that.

This is going to be a mixed bag of textual reading, subtextual reading, and a full-on reach or two. It's been a while since I've been in an English class, but if my teachers expected me to find a deeper meaning behind blue curtains, you can expect me to read too deeply into the symbolism of a loaded rifle or an ox rib. (This is probably not what my professors had in mind when grading my literary analysis papers but oh well) My point is, if it feels like a reach, I'm as aware of it as you are. I am in no way saying that all (or even any) of my points made were deliberate on the part of Neil or the actors or the writers or the directors. I am no longer the delulu Apple Tree Yard child of my youth, I promise.

If anything said here is in any way offensive or hurtful to anyone in the asexual community, please do not hesitate to message me or comment and let me know exactly what it was. I promise you it is not my intention to do so, and am happy to clarify or outright edit anything that reads that way.

With all that being said, let's talk about why I think Crowley and Aziraphale would absolutely fuck nasty incorporate sex into their relationship.

Note: I am out of practice with essay writing, so I think I'll just go down the bullet points of notes I have been making, and expand on each as best I can

Food

Where better to start than with Aziraphale's introduction to Pleasures Of The Flesh? (Just a heads up, this entire post may feel very Aziraphale-heavy, and with good reason).

This might be the least hot take here. We've all seen the Job minisode. We've all seen That Scene.

Whether this was intentional or not, the symbolism here is off the charts. Eve was tempted by an apple. So why not go a similar route and tempt Aziraphale with another fruit, or cheese, or bread, or literally anything else for his first experience with food? Instead, we go with a huge, glistening slab of fresh meat that he proceeds to absolutely go feral upon, moaning and gasping into his meal while Crowley watches with what definitely doesn't look to be disgust or even satisfaction with a good temptation. There's surprise at the ferocity of Aziraphale's appetite, certainly. But ultimately he looks to be intensely fascinated by it, while the thunder crashes, the music crescendos, and the earth literally shakes around them.

(It's also interesting to note how very little it takes for Crowley to tempt him with the ox rib. One murmured suggestion, a bit of unwavering eye contact, and vavoom Aziraphale immediately meets him in the middle.)

Cut to Aziraphale devouring the rest of the meat with Crowley splayed back on a makeshift bed, drinking wine and continuing to watch him indulge through half-lidded eyes. Outside a thunderstorm rages while they're learning secrets about each other in warm flickering firelight. It's cosy, it's intimate, and if they'd thrown in a bearskin throw blanket, it might as well be a post-coital scene straight out of Game of Thrones.

The next time (chronologically) we see them discuss food is when Aziraphale "tempts" Crowley with oysters in Rome. So Crowley first tempts Aziraphale with meat and then Aziraphale tempts Crowley with what is widely regarded to be an aphrodisiac. Interesting.

And then chronologically after that, the Arrangement begins to form, which has always reeked of a friends with benefits situation. Just to throw that in there.

It's What Humans Do

In the very first episode, we're shown Gabriel's obvious disgust and bewilderment towards Aziraphale eating sushi, calling it "gross matter" and being proud of the fact that he does not sully his body with it. Aziraphale initially tries to defend his own enjoyment in it, before passing it off as something that humans do, as something he simply has to do in order to blend in (which we know very well is not the case).

He does this again in season 2, passing off Nina and Maggie being in love as "something humans do". But it isn't, is it? Angels are beings of love, and can sense it, and understand very well what it is... up to a point. Even romantic love is obviously within their wheelhouse, given what we now know happened between Gabriel and Beelzebub (we'll come back to them).

What the "humans do" that angels wouldn't understand is messy, physical forms of love.

But here's the thing: Aziraphale and Crowley love doing what the humans do. They love drinking, they (or at least Aziraphale) love eating. They love music. Crowley loves driving and sleeping and watching rom-coms and sitcoms. Aziraphale loves reading and doing magic and earning little licenses and certificates for achievement in his various hobbies. They love to playact at being human so much that they've stopped playacting and started building a genuinely human lifestyle for themselves and with each other.

Once together in an unambiguously romantic sense, why do we think they wouldn't also want to explore one of the most prominent, intimate, powerful human expressions of love and desire with each other?

Angels, Demons, & Asexuality

Here's where I really want to clarify that in no way do I mean that sex is necessary for a healthy, fulfilling, and loving romantic relationship, or that the lack of desire for sex makes you any less human. Asexuality is a sexuality as valid and human as any. What I would say is that it is definitely in the human minority compared to allosexuality.

Angels and demons, on the other hand, are predominately asexual. Sexless/genderless unless Making An Effort. (Which, btw, is a concept introduced as early as the original book; why even bring it up as a possibility? Why not keep angels/demons being sexless/asexual as a hard and fast rule, if not to open up the potential for later use? Chekhov's Effort, if you will. And isn't that something that Aziraphale in particular is shown to do time and time again? He makes an effort in French and driving and magic, doesn't he?)

And this is why I don't believe Aziraphale and Crowley necessarily need to be asexual, narratively. There is already a huge amount of ace rep within the angels and demons (and no, not just the horrible ones. Muriel also doesn't "drink the tea" and has no reason or desire thus far to Make An Effort, and there are certainly other angels and demons who aren't horrible like the archangels seem to be who likely wouldn't Make An Effort either).

The central conflict for Aziraphale and Crowley is that they are on their own side, the ones who went native, the ones who are so different in so many ways from their respective hives. It would make sense for them to also break away from traditional angel/demon asexuality.

I say "traditional angel/demon asexuality", because I would also like to note that I would absolutely not rule out demisexuality for either of them. This post is being written to as a response to people who specifically believe that they (like the rest of the angels/demons seem to be) would be sex-averse in a relationship, and that it wouldn't be a factor in their relationship. I could easily read them as demisexual, but I do think there would be no real way of verifying this, because they've never been able to form as close an emotional relationship with anyone else but each other. Certainly not in heaven, and I can't imagine they would be able to form that kind of attachment with any of the humans, who they love and emulate but ultimately regard as the separate species they are. So yes, they could either be allosexual or demisexual, in my opinion.

Then again, now that I think about it, Making An Effort itself could be a great metaphor for demisexuality, since they would be entirely sexless/asexual until they have enough of an emotional connection with someone to consciously manifest otherwise. Since the other angels and demons don't generally form those types of emotional connections with anyone, there hasn't been a precedent for it.

Except...

Brielzebub

We do have a precedent for it now, don't we? Gabriel and Beelzebub fell in love. They are a direct foil for Crowley and Aziraphale's relationship, speedrunning right through their courtship and finding their happily ever after on the other side of things.

For being such a 1 to 1 comparison, it feels deliberate that they did not kiss. They held hands, they were gooey with each other, but they did not kiss. That feels like such a deliberate thing to omit when you know what's to come at the end of the episode between Crowley and Aziraphale.

And going back to the food = sex metaphor for a moment, let's notice how even as they fell in love over the years, even when pints and crisps were there on the table in front of them, they never felt the desire to reach out for them. They didn't need to. It's a date (love story) even if you aren't eating dinner (sleeping together).

Yes, I know Jim liked hot chocolate. No, I am not counting it because I don't consider Jim and Gabriel to be the same person with the same proclivities, and Jim was highly suggestible at the time anyway.

Gabriel and Brielzebub's big happily ever after moment (as of now) was one between two asexual supernatural beings. They did not need to kiss to drive the point home. They showed what Crowley and Aziraphale could have, if they would only acknowledge it.

Crowley & Aziraphale's Dissatisfaction

But they do have that already, don't they? If you really think about it, what do Gabriel and Beelzebub do with each other that Crowley and Aziraphale don't already? They hold hands, they spend time together, they create little rituals, they give gifts, they're visibly and verbally affectionate with each other, etc. They are more or less already in a romantic asexual marriage relationship with each other, aren't they?

And it doesn't seem to be enough for either of them.

At the beginning of the season, Crowley is immediately shown to be unsatisfied with the way things are. Obviously part of it comes from living in his car, but it seems to be more than that (especially since Aziraphale makes it clear that the bookshop is just as much Crowley's as his, implying that he could have been living there the whole time and is choosing not to, for some reason?). You could argue he's feeling unmoored without Hell telling him what to do, but isn't that what he wanted? Isn't that what he still wants, by the end of the season? All season long, he's never indicated the desire for a new job, or a new project. He stopped the apocalypse because he wanted the freedom to openly spend time with Aziraphale, to spend his time on Earth however he sees fit. Until Gabriel arrives, he has exactly that (minus a flat).

So where does the dissatisfaction come from? And if it represents anything to do with his relationship, what does he want out of it that he isn't getting already?

I think Crowley only really comes to the realisation of what he's missing when Nina names it for him, not only putting them in the category of romantic, but physical (outright asking if they are sleeping together). These two posts [1], [2] go into more detail about what I mean, but I think it really pushes him into acknowledging that their relationship is more human than either of them have stopped to consider, and what that might mean as far as everything a human relationship can entail.

After all, Nina and Maggie only advised that he should talk to Aziraphale, make clear his feelings. The decision to kiss him, to tip them over the edge from nonphysical to physical, that was all him. And no, kissing isn't sex, but I wonder how taboo even that might be in the kind of all-encompassing asexuality most angels seem to identify with. (If they're disgusted by food and drink, I can only imagine what they think of snogging, much less sex.)

Aziraphale doesn't have this moment of someone observing their relationship from the outside. He loves Crowley, and as of 1941 probably even knows he's in love with him in a way that Crowley doesn't understand yet. Which makes sense, since love is technically his job, he'd be more likely to recognise it for what it is.

However, Aziraphale's reference for romance and relationships is Jane Austen. It's chaste. It's dancing and dinner and doing sweet things for each other and roses and candles and handholding. He contextualises his love for Crowley in that soft fantasy sort of way, where it's there, it's obviously there, but it's neat and easy and unspoken. Not to quote Glee in this, the year of our lord 2023, but it's all very "the touch of the fingertips is as sexy as it gets".

Someone should tell that to Aziraphale's face, then.

I'm not going to pretend I know what Michael Sheen's script notes were, but there were definitely some Choices™ made. Because yes, there were plenty of moments in both seasons with Aziraphale looking at Crowley in a sweet, loving, smitten way. And then there were moments that were yearning.

But yearning for what, exactly? All of those sappy Jane Austen tropes already apply to the two of them. So why are there moments where Aziraphale is looking Crowley up and down like the last eclair in the window and licking his lips and visibly exhaling like he's trying to get in control of himself (see: Bastille scene + Crowley telling Muriel to ask him if they have any other questions about love)? Why is Aziraphale not only unconcerned when Crowley shoves him bodily up against a wall in s1, but staring at his lips and a beat too late in noticing Sister Mary's arrival? Why are some of his lines so suggestive? I'm sorry, but the car ride after the church explosion might as well have been the beginning of a Pizza Man porn with a really weird Blitz theme. If even my mother picked up on that vibe, I can't imagine it wasn't intentional on part of both the dialogue and the delivery.

(This section may feel like more of a reach/joke, but I'm really only 20% joking. These are writers and actors who are EXTREMELY good at their jobs; they know what they were doing here.)

More importantly, I don't think Aziraphale is even aware that there is more to what he wants. He lives in the Jane Austen fantasy and it never even occurs to him that he might be interested in anything further. It never even occurs to him that, as an angel, there is anything further to be interested in in the first place. Until Crowley forces it to occur to him. Just like I believe Nina forced Crowley to confront the idea that romantic love is what he's been feeling all along, I believe Crowley forced Aziraphale to confront the idea that physical intimacy is something he's been wanting, without even realising.

Aziraphale's Hedonism

Expanding on Aziraphale for a moment. We talked about his relationship with food, but we all know that Aziraphale is defined by his love of things that Feel Good.

It isn't just that he and Crowley love human things. Aziraphale loves the best of the best, or at least his version of it. He doesn't just love food, he loves going to fancy restaurants. He doesn't just love clothes, he loves soft, cosy, warm, plush clothes, or shiny, flashy, bougie fashion. He loves the warmth of tea and cocoa, loves getting drunk, and sitting in a comfy chair in the sunlight. He doesn't just experience, he indulges.

Given the emphasis put on things that Aziraphale loves just because they Feel Good, it feels narratively strange to assume that he wouldn't enjoy the feeling of being touched, or that he wouldn't be willing to try it, at least once, with someone he cared very deeply for. And just like the ox rib, I think that once he gets the first taste of things, he would absolutely tip over into complete and utter self-indulgence.

Dancing

I also think that dancing could be construed as a huge metaphor here. After all, we're told flat-out that angels don't Dance. Except one.

I would argue that Aziraphale, in fact, Made An Effort to learn how to Dance. He threw himself into the gavotte with delight (at a Victorian gay club; noted) and worked hard to be good at it. He's chomping at the bit to Dance with Crowley, working up the nerve to ask him with undeniably romantic intent and eagerness. So, angels don't Dance... unless they Make An Effort to do so.

We are told that demons, on the other hand, do Dance, but not well. Makes sense, since they're the ones who would want to encourage a deadly sin like lust, but have as little understanding of human love and physical intimacy as the angels. Crowley, however, is shown to be an excellent dancer at the ball, especially in his compatibility with Aziraphale.

(But Aziraphale WandaVisioned the ball so everyone knew how to dance! Yes, he did. However, the rest of the brainwashing doesn't seem to affect Crowley in any way, and they did actually live through the time period where this sort of dancing was a social norm; I'd be surprised if he never needed to learn. After all, the demons can't spell either, and Crowley is at least functionally literate, as far as we know.)

As of today, it's also been confirmed that when Aziraphale asked Crowley to dance, Crowley replied with "you don't dance." Not "WE don't dance". So going along with the metaphor, Crowley is just now discovering that Dancing is something Aziraphale is interested in at all, much less with him, and not denying that he himself is interested in Dancing. In his defense, I believe he was asleep for a few years while Aziraphale was learning the gavotte, so he wasn't exactly aware of Aziraphale's hot girl summer.

Love Languages

I want to expand on that; Crowley and Aziraphale's compatibility. Specifically in regards to their individual love languages.

We all know Crowley's love language is Acts of Service. I don't think there's any debate there. He loves it, Aziraphale loves it, they're both aware of it, we're all aware of it, God and Satan are aware of it, no surprise there.

You may disagree with me, but I believe Aziraphale's love language is Physical Touch, for a number of reasons. One of which being his aforementioned hedonism. Aziraphale likes things that Feel Good, remember? He likes soft clothes, and well-worn books. Neil himself has said that they like holding hands. And any time he is taken by surprise (Brielzebub getting together, the wave of love in Tadfield, etc.) what is the first thing he does? Reaches out for Crowley. He stops him with a hand to the chest in the pub. He leads him by the hand to the dance floor. He guides him by the waist in the graveyard. He reaches out during the entire Brielzebub scene, whether he can reach Crowley or not. Despite his own turmoil, he grasps at Crowley's back during the kiss.

The one time Crowley reaches out for him (not counting the kiss yet; we'll get there), he is aggressively pushed against a wall (by someone he loves and trusts) with a complete and utter lack of concern (and perhaps some interest, depending on how you read it).

And when he isn't reaching out for anyone, or there isn't anyone to reach out to? Well, he's wringing his own hands together, squeezing his own fingers, as if to find that physical comfort in himself.

So. With that theory in mind, we have Aziraphale (Physical Touch) + Crowley (Acts of Service). Throw in 6000+ years of deep love, cherished companionship, and forcibly repressed longing, and there is a very real potential of this combination resulting in fierce sexual compatibility. Where Aziraphale would want to touch and be touched, to indulge in physical pleasure with someone he adores, in the same the way he indulges in every other fine thing in his life. And where Crowley would want to indulge him in return, to give him everything he wants, and to take pleasure in Aziraphale's pleasure, in the same way he enjoys watching him take joy in food everything else.

So Aziraphale is an angel who is insecure about his own less-than-holy desires, who would want to treat Crowley like a luxury to be touched and cherished and adored. And Crowley is a demon who has, over the millennia, been unhappy about how they've been forced to deny even their friendship with each other, who would want Aziraphale to feel comfortable and safe and encouraged to indulge in earthly delights. That sounds like a stunning recipe for sexual compatibility to me.

"You said 'trust me'" / "And you did"

Just like the Job minisode, the Blitz is RIFE with symbolism (intentional or otherwise). This one will be quick, but I did want to touch on it because I thought it was interesting. Maybe I'm reaching at this point, but I'm assuming you read the tin.

First of all, Crowley not wanting to admit to never firing a gun before; comes off as someone who very much does not want to admit to their crush that they're a virgin ("You must have done this lots of times!" / "Umm.... yyyyyeah.")

(You could make the argument that Aziraphale having a firearms license and a Derringer in a hollowed-out book is symbolic of him not being a virgin while Crowley is. I disagree, for reasons I'll go into later, but it's a valid reading. However, I see it more like keeping a condom in your wallet; it's there in case you need it, but the opportunity has not yet risen no pun intended.)

More importantly, the theme of this entire minisode is trust. We already know they trust each other with their lives against the rest of Heaven, Hell, and the world. But specifically, this is about the importance of having complete trust in your partner in a charged, physically vulnerable, intimate moment, where the only danger is between the two of you.

Aziraphale needs to believe Crowley would never hurt him if he can help it. Crowley needs to trust Aziraphale's unwavering blind faith in him. Frankly, it all feels very symbolic of two people deeply in love losing their respective virginities with each other.

The trick is a success, and they share an intimate candlelit dinner in which they reaffirm their faith in each other. Aziraphale also begins to voice his agreement with Crowley, that maybe Heaven's rules shouldn't have to be as black and white as they are, and that there are benefits to... blurring the lines, shades of grey, wink wink (at which point even my mom was like, whoa guys, this is a family show).

Btw also: Can we all agree how much it looked like Crowley was getting ready to get a lapdance in that one scene? You know the one.

Also also: "Aim for my mouth"? Come on.

The Birds & The Bees

Now that I think of it, there's also something to be said for the fact that Crowley and Aziraphale are both obviously familiar with where babies come from (how they're made and how they're born) while the other angels aren't.

Something something Aziraphale and Crowley fundamentally understand sex and reproduction in a way the other angels (and probably demons) very much do not, nor have any desire to.

Probably not important. Just thought it was worth mentioning.

The Kiss™ & Religious Trauma

The Kiss. Where to even begin?

This has definitely been the hardest one to start, because there is so much going on here that I definitely won't be able to cover it all, and will certainly miss a few things here and there.

Aziraphale's reaction to the kiss afterwards is the most interesting to me. And I don't mean directly after, I don't mean the "I forgive you" part. I mean the way he touches his lips when Crowley is no longer in the room and he no longer needs to save face, when he is completely alone. Had it been directly after the kiss, it would have been rightfully read as horror, or disgust, a shield to discourage further action.

It's not. It isn't just a touch, it's a press. As desperate and angry and unexpected and imperfect as the kiss had been, Aziraphale is pressing it into himself, recreating the feeling as best he can. Beneath all the poor timing and shock and hurt from their fight and fallout, I think it's fair to say that it was something he enjoyed. Something he doesn't think he should enjoy, something that Feels Good that he only allows himself to indulge in when completely alone.

Remember, Aziraphale's idea of love is Jane Austen and gentleness and courtship and fantasy. If he'd ever even considered kissing an option, it might have been gentle pecks, cheek kisses, forehead kiss, hand kisses. Soft, safe, chaste affection.

Crowley's kiss turns all of that on its head. He introduces physical intimacy in a very real, very messy, very human way that I don't think Aziraphale ever even considered could apply to them. Considering what other angels are like and what they look down on, even Aziraphale's Jane Austen fantasies probably would have been considered taboo.

So for their first kiss to be rough and desperate and passionate in the way it was, of course he was confused and in shock. It was deeply physical, and as overwhelming and awful as it was in the moment, it Felt Good. Enough that he grasped at Crowley and kissed back, if only just for a moment, before stopping himself. Enough that he actively pressed it into his lips afterwards, in private, to remember.

I adore how Neil has decided to evolve these characters past the first book/season. More so in this season, Aziraphale and Crowley have both become such interesting allegories for queer people on either side of the spectrum of toxic religion. Aziraphale in particular obviously, because he is the side that so desperately wants to believe, to make a difference, and to unlearn all of the propaganda he's been fed over such a long time. Just like so much of organised religion, there is so much that he is told, time and time again, that he should not want, that he is silly or stupid or outright wrong for wanting. It reminds me so much of the severe Catholic guilt one might feel for wanting/engaging in sex for the first time, and the stigma of being queer layered on top of that.

What is so critical to Aziraphale's character is that he goes on wanting, and more than that, actively pursues. He was convinced to go up against Heaven and Hell and stop all of Armageddon because he wanted to go on listening to music and eating lunch and reading books and enjoying the simple company of the person he cares most deeply for, even if that person is supposed to be the enemy.

All this to say that if angels are as generally asexual/sex-averse as I believe them to be, narratively speaking, it would make sense for Aziraphale to be singular in that regard as well. Mirroring his first experience with food, it would make sense for Crowley to be the one to first introduce this new messy, physical, human dynamic between them, for Aziraphale to hesitate (obviously we are at the Hesitation phase at the moment), and then (eventually) for him to dive in wholeheartedly, to absolutely glut himself on this new thing that Feels Good. It would make sense for his character development to show him overcoming his metaphorical Catholic guilt and pursuing the sexual intimacy most (if not all) of the other angels would scorn.

(I can't help but remember that plot idea Neil described from the unwritten sequel, with Aziraphale in a hotel room trying to watch a full porno by way of the free 2-minute teaser clips so he wasn't technically sinning by paying for it. I so hope this is used in season 3, because gosh, I wonder why Aziraphale would suddenly be so interested in observing human physical intimacy after 6,000 years. Lonely and doing a little surreptitious research there, angel?)

Crowley, on the other hand, is the queer person who has broken free from his toxic religion. He prides himself on being his own person, on their his own side. He doesn't have the hang-ups Aziraphale does. He doesn't worry that he's going to be judged or cast aside for wanting things he's not supposed to. So it only makes sense for him to be the first one to suggest/initiate physical intimacy. It makes sense for him to be the one who "goes too fast" (another fantastic example of this dynamic beginning as early as s1; what is that conversation in the car meant to represent, if not Aziraphale being overwhelmed by the intensity of their relationship, and his fear of succumbing to it when he believes he shouldn't? It's also interesting that this is the first conversation to take place in Soho, just after watching Aziraphale realise he's caught feelings for a demon, with the red glow of lust serving as the backdrop).

Do I think the kiss in and of itself was sexual? No. I think it was a passionate and devastating last-ditch effort on Crowley's part to convey the way he feels for Aziraphale. Not just that he loves him, but that he loves him in the most human way possible. But I do think that the kiss represents how they can move forward from here, and what they might want to explore with each other once they feel free enough to do so.

In Conclusion

I am sure, deep in my bones (unless we are explicitly told otherwise), that this was both of their first kisses no, I'm not counting the gavotte, and that neither of them have ever thought to do anything else physical with the humans while they have been on Earth. Like I said before, they adore the human race and lifestyle in general, but ultimately view them as a separate species altogether, and they seem mostly happy to keep to themselves and each other, unless otherwise necessary. I just can't see either of them being drawn enough to a human to pursue anything close to sex. If Crowley in particular has had anything to do with sex in the context of temptations, I'm positive he would be inciting lust amongst the humans themselves, not involving himself directly. At least not that directly.

So, like every other human experience they've had on Earth, sex is something new that they could explore together, just the two of them, on their own side. A deeply intimate, tangible declaration of their love and everything they've gone through to earn it. A visceral finger to give both Heaven and Hell. A renewed appreciation for their corporations and for each other's. A enjoyable method for immortal beings to simply pass the time in each other's company. A new and exciting way to Feel Good, and all the variations that come with it.

You might agree with this post, or you might not. Whether this is something that is ever addressed or not, it doesn't matter to me. This is a brilliant love story either way, and I genuinely feel so privileged to witness it.

But I just can't find it in myself to imagine, given everything we know about these two characters, that sex isn't an experience they would both consume with wholehearted enthusiasm, curiosity, and profound, ineffable adoration.

___________________________________

Bonus feature: the very silly notes I made to myself that inspired this post

[ckret2]

Chapter 46 of human Bill Cipher frantically wishing he was still locked in the Mystery Shack and not getting his wish:

The Eclipse: Part 4

Gravity has fully disappeared from Gravity Falls and Bill finally learns why the Axolotl traveled all the way to Earth to see him. And meanwhile, Ford's in mortal peril.

[SUPER IMPORTANT AUTHOR'S NOTE: if you're reading this, it means that I've edited chapters 6&7 to make them compatible with The Book Of Bill but I have not edited this chapter yet.

Before TBOB came out, in chapter 7 I wrote that the Ax's deal with Bill was "I'll give you a different form (a human body) in a different time (dropping you a thousand years in the future) so you don't have to see your old enemies" and then Bill stole a time tape to come right back to the 21st century. I've now edited ch 6&7 to make the Ax's deal with Bill "I'll drop you off in Theraprism" and then Bill escaped via reincarnation.

However, this chapter refers to the OLD version of ch 7. That's because there are not physically enough hours in my life for me to do all the editing I want to do as fast as I want to do it.

Things Bill & the Axolotl say in this chapter contradict TBOB and contradict what the new ch 6&7 say. The conversation they're having DOES NOT accurately reflect the fic's current plot. Don't freak out. I'll fix it when I can. - (note added Sept 7, 2024; will be removed when it's no longer necessary.)]

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There were only two ways to remove a pair of magic friendship bracelets. Either both wearers had to consent to removing the bracelets; or one of the parties had to die. The bracelets weren't active if they were only being worn by one person, and a corpse wasn't a person.

The moment Dipper's soul left his body, the thread connecting the bracelets turned visible again.

Bill immediately yanked off his bracelet. He considered just letting it go, reconsidered considering that Dipper's ghost would probably tattle to Mabel, and carefully, slowly reeled the thread in. Without the magic active, it was just normal embroidery floss. The Axolotl's gravitational pull didn't make Dipper's body heavy enough to break the line, but if Bill jerked it just a little too hard, it would snap.

Bill heaved a sigh when the body was close enough he could grasp its wrist. He grabbed Dipper's head and snarled in his dead face, "This is why I told you to get in the cave." He wrapped the bracelet around and around the tree trunk and Dipper's forearm, muttering to himself, "But does anybody listen to the all-knowing immortal dream demon who's seventy times older than their entire universe? No! No, what could it possibly know! Surely we'll get better ideas from the brain-damaged hick who married a raccoon—"

An immense voice said, "Hello."

Bill froze. He slowly turned away from the beast above Gravity Falls.

The voice said serenely, "Look at me, you 8-karat coward."

He slowly turned toward the beast above Gravity Falls. He swallowed hard, steeled himself, and dragged his gaze up until he met the Axolotl's eye and he was gently tugged into the time and space between time and space. "Oh, heyyy," he squeaked. He forced a pained smile. "Didn't see you there! Haha, hi! Wow! Imagine running into you in this dimension on this planet, crazy."

"Yes, crazy," the Axolotl agreed.

"This isn't a regular part of your commute! I guess you've got some time off," Bill said. "Work must be going well!"

"Pretty well. I scheduled an extended lunch break," the Axolotl said amiably. "How's being human going?"

Bill shot the Axolotl a dirty look.

The Axolotl continued to give him a perpetual smile. "Happy New Year, by the way."

"I'll kill you."

"No you won't."

"Okay look, let's just cut to the chase," Bill said. "Go on. Tell me my punishment."

"Punishment?"

"For! Coming back here instead of staying when you dumped me in 3012. I skipped time while on parole. That's obviously why you're here." He looked down, shielding his face with a hand and squeezing his eyes shut. "So stop wasting my time and tell me how much trouble I'm in. I'm a busy guy, I don't wanna drag this out."

"Well," the Axolotl said, "it appears to me that you're locked in your enemies' home, you can't use doors, and you need to be handcuffed to a child to go outside. Is that enough 'trouble' for you?"

Bill opened one eye. "Wait, so." He looked up skeptically. "You're saying I won't get re-executed for breaking the rules. Or—or get stuck in a worse body."

"No," the Axolotl said. "You'll answer to no jailer's voice; what you do now is your own choice. I moved you by a thousand years to free you from your killers' fears. If you decide then to return, it's your own second chance you burn."

"Ohhh. See, I assumed this entire situation was a... prison... thing. Considering the..." He gestured vaguely at his body. "The flesh prison." 

"It's a body. Not a prison. You aren't being imprisoned."

"'Not a prison' my base, if it's not a prison then why can't—" He caught himself before he asked a question, and took a deep breath. "So, there are no rules against coming right back to where I left off."

"Though I think your plan is clunky—not my circus, not my monkey."

"Oh. Okay, great." Bill planted his hands on his hips, straightening up properly for the first time since the Axolotl's arrival. "Huh. How 'bout that. Spent the last two days worrying for nothing!"

"You? Worried?"

"Of course not, I wasn't worried for a second," Bill said. "So if you're not here to punish me—that doesn't explain why you are here."

"Are you asking?"

"You know I'm not."

The Axolotl stared at Bill, patiently awaiting a question. Bill stared at the Axolotl, patiently not asking one.

The Axolotl caved first. "I wanted to make sure you hadn't burned down the dimension yet."

Bill pointed sharply at the Axolotl. "Hey! Hey!"

The Axolotl gave him a look like a toothless gumball learning how to smile.

"Not funny! Seriously, now!"

"I came because you called."

"Wh— When did—?" Bill cut himself off. He thought back to the day he'd spent locked in the bathroom. He recalled the desperate plea for salvation he'd painted on the ceiling. He buried his face in his hand. "That... that was a joke. False alarm."

"I gathered," the Axolotl said.

Bill peeked between his fingers. "But, I did call for rescue. Therefore. You're here to rescue me."

"No."

"Why n—! You said I'm not supposed to be in a prison! You've seen what these humans have done to me!"

"You aren't a prisoner," the Axolotl said. "You're a kidnapping victim. That's outside my jurisdiction."

Infuriating—but it told Bill something important: in the Axolotl's eyes, Bill's captivity wasn't just. And Bill didn't consider the Axolotl any kind of god—he didn't consider anyone any kind of god—but the Ax had a lot of pull in the multiverse when it came to defining the universal concept of justice. That was promising. 

"But I do have a keen interest in your case. I wanted to check in on your progress."

Bill gave the Axolotl a questioning look. "'Progress.'"

The Axolotl said nothing. Bill waited. The Axolotl simply continued to smile. "You haven't asked a question yet. Usually you can't wait to get rid of me."

"Under the circumstances," he gestured again at his body, "I didn't think I could afford to waste it."

"I see. However, I do have a meeting I need to get to."

What was the most important thing he could ask. What did he need to know the most. "So... if I learn my lesson or complete my sentence or—whatever I'm supposed to do... will you turn me back into a triangle?"

"I can't and won't do anything else. I've completed my obligation to you," the Axolotl said. "Whatever happens to you from now on is up to you."

That could mean anything from "you're stuck as a human forever and will die in less than a century" to "there's a secret spell on you and when you meet its conditions you'll automatically turn back into a triangle" to "you're already a triangle, you just need to believe in yourself." All Bill knew was that he wasn't getting any help from the Ax.

"It's been a pleasure as always," the Axolotl said. The world slowly began to move again as he gently returned Bill to the dimension he'd come from.

"Wait!" Bill called. He needed to know—was he still a triangle, somewhere on the inside, buried beneath all this flesh and bone? Or had the Axolotl's transformation rotted him to his core—was he now nothing but a human through and through? If he wasn't being punished, why had his suffocating soul been smothered under a blanket of meat? If he wasn't being punished, why had his own corpse stared him in the eye as if it didn't recognize him? "Just one more question before you go!"

"If you have the time. Up to you."

If he had the time? Bill's eyes darted around. Why wouldn't he have the time, what was he missing—?

His gaze locked on Ford. Floating twenty, thirty feet out from the cliff's edge. Oh.

Bill let the Axolotl's gravity drag him to the edge of the cliff before digging a hand into the ground, holding himself in place. Bill was safe; Dipper's body was safe, and his soul could float home once the Axolotl was gone. But when the Axolotl was gone, gravity would immediately come back—0 to 100, just like that—and Ford was dead.

And the Axolotl was already turning away. The millions of axolotls in the water below followed, moving through and out of the lake as though the lakebed didn't exist, migrating in the Axolotl's wake.

Ford was unsuccessfully trying to swim through the air back to land. Several useless feet of cable from his infinity belt floating around him from trying to fling it at the cliff. The best he could do was stretch an arm toward land.

He met Bill's eyes. The only other time Bill had seen Ford this terrified was when he'd threatened to torture the kids.

Bill looked at Ford, looked at the Axolotl—nearly too far to shout to—and looked down. By now, the future death he'd witnessed earlier was so close that Bill could see more than the blood to be left on the rocks. He could see the body—gray hair, tan overcoat, broken. It was just a few moments away.

Stanford Pines was about to die. Bill Cipher was innocent. Dipper was his witness; Dipper, honest goody hero type, could verify that Bill not only repeatedly told them both to stay away from the thing in the sky, but also warned them to anchor themselves right before totality. Everyone at the shack knew he'd protested, knew he'd warned them, knew he'd begged to stay home. There was no possible way Bill could get blamed for this.

And once Ford was dead, none of the idiots in this town would ever find a way to destroy Bill.

Up to you.

Bill didn't stop to think.

He kicked off the edge of the cliff.

He could see, hovering in the air like a golden arc amidst a dozen blurry failures, the path he needed to jump to reach Ford. The Axolotl's tail was already soaring over the town, his sky blue fins rippling like vast, slow sails. If Bill reached Ford before the Axolotl's influence was completely gone, he could fly them over the lake and they might both survive. 

They collided. Bill had to fling an arm over Ford's shoulder before he managed to get a grip on his lapel; Ford seized Bill's hoodie in both hands. Ford demanded, "What are you—?" He fell silent as their trajectory took a sudden sharp turn from south to east.

"The lake!"

Ford nodded. Why could come if they both survived. He could already feel weight grabbing onto his limbs. He spared a split-second glance down, but with half the lake floating in the air he couldn't tell if they'd cleared its banks yet. "Have you ever learned to swim?"

"You have to learn?!"

Ford prayed, if Bill drowned, that he was a mortal, and that he wasn't the kind of drowner who dragged other people down with him. "Cross your ankles as tightly as you can, cross your arms over your chest, land feet first in the water—better to break your legs than your neck—do not tilt your head, eyes on the horizon—" And that was as much emergency survival advice as he could give before gravity returned in full force.

This wasn't the first time Ford had plummeted into a deep liquid from an irresponsible height over the past thirty years. The hit was softer than he expected—the turbulent lake hadn't settled back down into its normal water pressure—but he also sank far deeper than he expected. Streams of bubbles raced past his vision; maybe it was just the power of suggestion, but he could have sworn they looked like transparent axolotls.

As soon as he had his wits about him, he threw off his coat, tugged off his boots, and kicked his way toward the surface.

Bill didn't.

This actually wasn't so bad, he thought, with a calmness that definitely came from being such a rational level-headed fellow and not from being in shock. Sure, all the air had been forced out of his lungs and his body was screaming in airless panic, but he wasn't his body, was he? This felt just like floating. He would miss floating again.

What was he supposed to do now.

He'd seen humans swim. He tried kicking his legs. He felt stupid. But, he decided—again, with a calmness that definitely was not from shock—that looking kinda stupid was probably preferable to drowning. Although he was curious what drowning felt like. Had he ever drowned a puppet before? He couldn't remember. Didn't seem bad so far.

He surfaced.

Ford was already on shore, on hands and knees, desperately coughing out water, his lungs burning. He collapsed in the sand. It took a couple minutes for him to reach the point where he was breathing more than he was coughing, and another minute of heavy breathing before he had the energy to look at the lake again. Bill was floating on his back about fifty feet away, very still.

Ford croaked, "Bill," coughed again, and tried a little louder. "Bill?"

Without otherwise moving, Bill raised one arm and gave him a thumbs-up.

Ford dug into what energy reserves he still had, shuffled back into the water, and swam over to Bill. "Are you all right?"

Bill gave him a dazed look, opened his mouth, and exhaled a cup of water. Then he started coughing. 

Ford grimaced. "Let's... get to shore." He took Bill's arm to tug him toward dry land.

Bill flailed upright and shoved him off. "Don't—" Hack. "M'fine. I l—" Cough. "I like floating." He lay on his back, shut his eyes, and said shakily, "Don't touch me."

Ford treaded water for a moment, considering that. Bill looked like he'd got the hang of floating enough that he wasn't an immediate drown risk, so Ford said, "I'll... be on land."

"'Kay."

Ford swam to shore and sat cross-legged in the wet sand to wait, staring down at his hands. The Handwitch's ring was a bright indigo blue again, no traces of darkness within the cabochon, as though the lake water had washed it clean.

Should he go do something useful? There weren't many places Bill could go, except to shore; it wasn't like he was at risk of escaping. But then if Bill did make it to land while Ford was distracted, he had a chance to make a run for it without the bracelet—

Ford stood up. "Bill! Where's Dipper?!"

Bill raised one arm and pointed up.

Ford looked at Gravity Peak. A small speck high above, Dipper was looking down over the cliff's edge. Ford waved to him. Dipper waved back. Well. That was inconvenient. Maybe Ford could restrain Bill with the infinity belt's cable in the meantime. (He reeled the cable in while he was thinking about it. He was fortunate it hadn't tangled on anything while he was underwater.)

"We have to rendezvous with Dipper. Get over here."

"Just leave me."

"Not an option."

Bill let out a pitiable whine, but, after a moment, managed to figure out a way to slowly paddle-kick his way toward land.

When his heels hit sand, he rolled over, crawled onto land, and lay down. "Gravity," he groaned. "I hate gravity."

"I'm not too fond of it myself right now." Ford's limbs felt like lead. Some combination of spending a day and a half in steadily reduced gravity, the exhaustion following a near death experience, and waterlogged clothes. "Where are the enchanted bracelets?"

Bill lifted one hand from the elbow and pointed toward the cliff again.

That'd be just Ford's luck. All the same, he said, "Really?" Bill would hide them if they were on him.

"Yes, really. Whaddaya want, a strip search?" He gestured vaguely toward his body without lifting his head. "Go ahead. 'M not moving to help." His arm flopped back down.

Ford decided that was a bluff he did not want to call. "Fine. We'll put them back on when we rendezvous with Dipper." If Bill tried to escape, Ford wasn't sure he was in any condition to chase; but then Bill didn't seem to be in any condition to run, either.

"Surprised you wanna wear matching bracelets with me. If I'd known, I woulda made you a friendship bracelet." Under his breath, Bill muttered at the sand, "But m'sure it'd've been a waste of thread."

Ford decided it was more prudent to hold his tongue. "Can you walk?"

"If I have to." For as difficult as Bill made getting to his feet look, one would think he was being subjected to the gravity of Jupiter. Ford offered his hand; Bill smacked it aside.

"Well. My raft is still in the cave behind Trembley Falls, so we'll have to borrow a boat." Ford pointed toward Tate & Backle's Bait & Tackle at the far end of the lake. "Think you can make it that far?"

Bill—barefoot, soggy, and slumped like he had the whole weight of the world on his shoulders—gave Ford the most pathetic look he'd ever seen Bill wear. Ford empathized completely. But Bill only sighed and said, "Let's get going."

####

Tate lowered his magazine to give Ford a critical look. "Dr. Pines," he said. "You get caught out on the lake when the gravity came back?"

"Something like that."

He shook his head. "Shoulda listened to the news."

"The news?"

"Dad's been making public warnings since yesterday. 'Stay anchored and keep your head down.' Reckon you must've missed it."

"We've... been camping." He'd have to ask Fiddleford about that later. "Listen—do you have a boat we could borrow? It's an emergency. We were separated from Dipper and we have to get across the lake."

Tate raised his hat just enough to give Ford a look that told him exactly what he thought of his merit as a guardian—Ford figured he deserved that—but then stood with a sigh. "All right, I'll see what we've got."

He paused, then gestured behind Ford with his chin. "Who's the lady?"

Ford turned. The shop's door was propped open and Bill was leaning in the doorway, arms crossed tight, staring blankly out across the lake. "Er—Goldie. She's... staying in the shack a few weeks."

"Hm." Tate raised his voice. "Ma'am?"

Bill didn't budge.

"Ma'am—Miss Goldie?"

That time he turned to give Tate a faraway look. "Me?"

"Yes, uh—you're soaked to the bone. Would you like to borrow some dry clothes?"

"Oh." Bill considered the question for a little longer than necessary. "If you want."

Ford explained, "She inhaled a lot of water."

Tate nodded. "Think we've got some out-of-season stock in the back, there might be something big enough for..." He caught himself before insinuating something about a lady's weight, and mumbled, "Well, it'll do." He headed to a door behind the counter, paused, looked Ford over, and reluctantly said, "I s'pose you can get something too."

####

Tate had a motorboat in good working order, so he let them borrow it, with a stern request to have it back by the end of the day. And so they set out—Ford in waders that went up to his chest, a bandana he really hoped was keeping his embarrassing neck tattoo hidden, and a t-shirt that said "The worst day of fishing is better than the best day of court-ordered anger management classes"; and Bill in a makeshift skirt Tate had apologetically improvised out of a beach towel, a sweater depicting a pine tree constructed out of fish that said "MERRY FISHMAS", and a pair of novelty slippers shaped like rainbow trout.

"I'm never giving these shoes back," Bill informed Ford as they crossed the lake. "I don't care whether we buy them or steal them. They're hilarious." It was the nearest thing to personality Bill had demonstrated since landing in the lake.

Ford supposed he was in no position to tell Bill he couldn't keep them, considering that Bill had... well.

Well.

Ford should say something about that. He didn't know what. He didn't know where to start. (Bill's question came back to him: if Ford didn't believe anything Bill said, why did he keep trying to pry information out of him?)

(Because, he realized—beneath thirty years of every nerve in his body screaming "DON'T TRUST HIM"—part of him was still hoping Bill would say something he could believe.)

Ford cleared his throat. "It's... impressive that you didn't panic while you were underwater," he said awkwardly. "That must have taken remarkable self control."

"Oh. Eh." Bill spread his hands vaguely. "I wasn't really paying attention to what was happening. I was thinking about other stuff."

Ford blinked. "While you were drowning?"

"It wasn't a very severe drowning."

Ford huffed.

This was probably a conversation he should have later—Bill's brain only appeared to be half on—but, if they had it later, Ford wasn't sure he'd get anything but yet another polished lie. 

And so he steeled his nerves and asked, "Why did you save me."

Bill didn't answer. He stared silently at his rainbow trout slippers.

"Bill—?"

"Hold on," he said. "I don't know, just—give me a minute to make something up."

It was the first time in a month and a half—the first time in years—that Ford was absolutely certain Bill had just told him the truth.

And not just about his intentions to lie to Ford—but about not knowing why he'd saved him.

It meant there was no secret master plan, no manipulative ulterior motives, no cunning illusions. It meant Bill had endangered himself just to save Ford.

There was a universe where Ford then said, "I didn't think you meant it all those times you said you wanted to be my friend again," and where Bill lied—both to Ford and to himself—"I didn't think I meant it either." It wasn't this universe, because neither one of them wanted those words out in the world. Yet they still hovered around them, unspoken.

It didn't make Ford trust Bill. It didn't make Ford like Bill. Bill was still everything he'd ever been—liar, conman, tyrant, torturer—and Ford still hated him for all of it.

But. It meant that for the first time in a month in a half, a muscle between Ford's shoulder blades that had been knotted tight with fear could finally loosen and relax.

Ford was safe.

####

(I first had the idea for this chapter nearly a year ago and I've been dying waiting to post it. I hope you enjoyed, and I can't wait to hear what y'all think! And to those of you in the path of totality, happy solar eclipse this Monday! I totally planned it this way. I did not.)

[blueeyedgirll]

shark week surprise - spencer reid x f!reader

spencer reid x f!reader on her period

this fic includes: fluff, descriptions of bad periods and period paraphernalia, spencer being a sweetie pie and doting on you, established relationship, non-bau reader, pet names, early seasons spencer, use of midol, no use of y/n, unrealistic depiction of spencer's job, reader being shorter than spencer

word count: 1,053

a/n: you'll never guess what time of the month it is for me ;) im testing out using gifs on my fics so tell me what you think my lovely returning readers!

"It hurts," you say into your phone.

"I know it does, honey. I'm sorry. I'm sure a heating pad and some medicine can help with your cramps," Spencer responds sympathetically, recalling all of the period remedies he had learned.

"I took some Midol about an hour ago and I have the heating pad on right now. It's not helping much."

"Hmm..." Spencer pauses for a moment. "I've read that light exercise and hot tea or water can help. Are you feeling well enough to talk to the kitchen and make some tea? I think there's still some of the chamomile and honey tea I bought you in the pantry, and the walking might help."

"I should be alright. Will you stay on the phone with me?" you plead.

"Of course I will. Luckily, I'm in my hotel room for the night, so I have as much time as you need."

"Thank you, Spence."

"You're welcome, love."

You hobble to your kitchen, phone in hand, and start to make yourself a cup of chamomile tea.

The few minutes it took for the kettle to boil felt excruciatingly long, but having Spencer on the phone to distract you helped.

"I was reading an article about Spanish idioms, and I saw one I thought you would like," Spencer prompts.

"Yeah? What's that?" You say, leaning against your kitchen counter.

"Well, it literally means 'Thinking about the immortality of the crab,' but it's a way to say that instead of just sitting idly, you were engaged in active thought or daydreaming. Kind of like saying you're just letting your mind wander," Spencer says, his voice growing more excited as he elaborates.

"I think about the immortality of the crab a lot, then," You joke.

"I know. That's why I thought you would like it."

You scoff and bring your now finished cup of tea back into your bedroom, where you had been hibernating amidst every fuzzy blanket you could find.

You pull the heating pad back over your lap and get as cozy as you can with your hellish cramps. As nice as your bedspread may be, however, you know that you would be a lot more comfortable with Spencer cuddled up next to you.

"When are you gonna be back home, Spencer?" You ask.

"Well, we haven't gotten very many good leads, so we're a little stuck right now. It might be a few more days. I'm sorry, honey," He responds apologetically.

"Oh... That's okay. I get it."

You did get it. It wasn't uncommon for Spencer to be gone for days, sometimes a few weeks at a time. But the searing pain and high estrogen levels just made you want him near you even more.

"I'm sorry. You know I would so much rather be taking care of you right now," Spencer follows.

"Ain't no rest for the wicked."

"Exactly." Spencer pauses for a moment, lets out a sigh, and shuffles around in his room. "You should get some rest. You may feel better tomorrow as your hormones decrease."

"I know. I love you, Spence."

"I love you too, darling. I'll see you soon. Hang in there."

"I will. Bye."

You hang up the phone and sigh dramatically. It was only Friday night, and without work to prepare for or Spencer to spend time with, you were forced to entertain yourself for the weekend.

You start by putting on an older show to rewatch, but don't make it through much before you fall into an uncomfortable sleep.

You wake up the next morning to your phone ringing. Rubbing your dry eyes, you pick up your phone and see Spencer's contact flash across your screen. You pick up, clearing your throat before you speak.

"Morning, love."

"It's eleven AM, darling. But good morning to you, too," Spencer responds. In the background of the call, you hear what sounds like a turn signal.

"Whatever. Where are you?"

"I'm in the car," He says uninformatively.

"Okay, then where are you heading?"

"To my destination."

What a turd. You groan in exasperation.

"If it makes you feel better, I have something for you,' Spencer tells you.

"Like what?"

"It should be arriving just about now, actually."

"What do you mean?" You question.

Before you could ask him anything else, you hear a knock at your door.

"Hang on, Spence. Someone's at the door," You say, placing your eye to the peephole.

To your great surprise, you see a tiny image of Spencer smiling outside your door with his phone up to his ear. You fling the door open and affirm that he is, in fact, at your door.

"Spencer!" You exclaim. He greets you as he throws his arms around you, lightly squishing you against his chest.

"I thought you weren't gonna be home for a few more days. What changed?" You ask, pulling away from his embrace to look up into his sweet brown eyes.

"The unsub basically turned himself in, so we all got to go home early. I would have came here earlier, but I had to make a stop," He says, gesturing to his right hand.

You look down to see a shopping bag. He smiles and walks into your living room, urging you to follow.

He slowly unpacks the bag, announcing every item as it appears.

"An array of candy -- fruit flavored as well as chocolate --, electrolyte drinks to keep you hydrated, a new bottle of Midol to help with the pain, and..." Out of a separate bag you hadn't noticed before, he pulls out a bouquet of fresh flowers. "Flowers because I thought you would like them."

He hands you the flowers and you smile up at him before enclosing him in another hug.

"Thank you, Spencer. You're so sweet."

"I'm just trying to make you feel better," He says, placing a kiss on your forehead.

"You're doing great."

He smiles into your hair before pulling away.

"What do you want to do? We can watch movies in bed, I can draw you a bath, we can go for a walk..." He trails off, looking to your for an answer.

"Let's go watch movies. We can find that new one we wanted to watch."

"Sounds good to me, love," He says, following you into the bedroom, snacks in hand.

[yandere-wishes]

ℂ𝕠𝕞𝕚𝕔 𝔹𝕠𝕠𝕜 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖

Synopsis: You finally realize that you and Miguel are stuck inside a comic book romance. 

Warnings: Yandere themes, angst, the reader has Stockholm syndrome but can we really blame her? 

There's something about a sleepless night that's lethal. A loaded gun aimed point blank at your head and your heart and your eyes that are too weary to recall the difference between fact and fiction. Right and wrong.

Miguel should be home soon you think as you stare at the Daily Bugle's nightly broadcast. The headlines are the same as last week's villain attack and the week before that, and the week before that. 

'SPIDERMAN REPORTED DEAD AFTER TANGLE WITH NUEVA YORK'S NEWEST VILLAIN!'

 You think this is the 18th time he's died this month. A hologram dances in front of you, some withering reporter adamant in his claim that this time. This time for sure Spiderman is dead. A Harrowing claim, one you know to be false. Your lover isn't so easy to kill, you should know on account of how many times you had tried. Back when you'd painted Miguel O'Hara as the villain in your story, back when you were so obstinate to return to a wholly ignorant life of so-called freedom. 

Miguel can't die, you refuse to believe that a man like that is subject to such a mortal thing. 

You use to try to imagine a Miguel that had grown old. You couldn't back then and still can't today. Because heroes are eternal, or so you've come to believe.  They die a hundred deaths and reawaken younger than before. Heroes aren't immortal -that's the part that makes your heart skip a beat- yet death has never had the chance to lay claim to them. Miguel is fine you're sure of it. 

There's a noise, a disturbance in the wind, the sound of thousands of coiled webs being used to sling across the air.

A sign that Spiderman has arrived.

He's here.

You can't help but smile. 

"What's the old man saying this time?" 

You turn to see Miguel, land at the edge of the rooftop. Legs limb as he staggers towards you. With a defeated moan he sits down. Close enough for you to inspect the galaxy of bruises that dance across his stunning face. 

When did you fall in love with him, again? 

"You're supposed to be dead," you say, a bitter laugh following, the peculiar words.

"I think that's the 14th time the Bugals had a spread on me dying" He chuckles, dry and humorless. 

You bite your tongue to avoid correcting him. 

"Who was it this time? Venom or Flipside?" you ask, trying to guess which of the two had been able to give the Miguel O'Hara a run for his money. 

"Just some kid, from another dimension. Mocoso already screwed up the canon once, and he's damn well trying to do it again. He used Spider Bite to send himself home, so I didn't get the chance to..." He doesn't bother finishing that sentence. Doesn't have to, you've seen worlds collapse upon themselves because a tiny imperfection had distraught the canon. You know why he does this. You know why he must do this. No one is exempt from the canon. No matter how young and naive they may be. 

How peculiar the life of superhumans are. For all the guts and glory every hero's world is only bounded by thin silk strings. Perpetually on the verge of collapse should the chosen one refuse to follow destiny's orders. 

Heroes aren't pretty, they neither sparkle nor shine. Instead, they burn with a self-lit fire that grows out of control, burning until only ashes remain. Heroes are tragedies swung across every dimension. War-torn children with blood under their fingernails and chipped teeth from one too many close calls. Heroes aren't pretty, nor beautiful, nor divine. They're mangled creatures who come alive at night, staggering across half-lit streets doing what they believe is right. 

You've tried to commit this to memory. Tried to memorize it so you wouldn't make the same mistakes as every lovesick idiot who's fallen in love with a superhero. 

But sometimes it's so hard to remember, especially when Miguel has been your only companion for months now. The only person you have to talk to. The only person who is there in the early hours of the morning when even sleep abandons you. And he's always there again at night to tuck you in before he departs to fight whoever has broken the few simple rules that the canon calls for. You've almost come to appreciate his paranoia and insistence that you stayed locked inside the penthouse. Although he's grown a bit bolder as of late. Permitting you free range of the terrace and rooftop. A sign of good faith, he'd called. Whilst you'd presume that he's come to enjoy you waiting outside to greet him when he returns from the miseries of being a golden boy. 

"I try to save everyone, I try to make sure the universe is held upright. So why the hell does everyone always treat me like I'm the villain?" His voice is raising, fangs glowing in loose rays of starlight. His hands are crossed in annoyance. You rest your hand on his arm as you snuggle closer.

Heroes and villains, what's the difference? 

That's a question the two of you have been pondering for too long now. 

Even though you doubt  Miguel truly knows who he is. It's hard to fall into the orderly boxes of 'good' and 'bad' when the fate of every universe lies on your already brittle shoulders. 

He's a hero who acts like a villain. That's what you use to call him. Back when he'd first plucked you away from your ordinary mundane life.Deeming the world too dangerous for a defenseless little civilian such as yourself. He had promised to love you, to cherish you. Back when you'd been so resistant to play the role of the hero's lover. But seeing as how no matter what nightmares he went through as Spiderman, he had still kept those two promises. You had slowly started to grow fond of him

Time and time again Miguel has made you feel like a butterfly caught in a spider's web. Wings clipped and waiting for the inevitable. He's overbearing to the point where his sheer presence feels like a boulder placed on your chest. Or maybe his strings have finally found their way to your heart, coiling around the organ controlling its every beat and pulse. Yet somehow, somehow, you started to desire more and more of him.

You're in love with the hero who plays the villain. 

You're in love with the villain who bares a hero's mask. 

"You should be more careful when dealing with the other spiders. I hear they're not all as precautious as you." Your fingers trace the purpling marks on his cheek.  Sliding from one universe to another. 

You know Miguel isn't a tiny spider he's a bloodthirsty tarantula. Yet you still worry. Fear that one day he may fail to return home. 

"You shouldn't worry about me preciosa,"

"Someone has to, Miguel, you're not as indestructible as you may think."

"If I kiss you will you stop complaining?"

There's no room to answer, his lips rest on yours, forceful and sweet. Captivating, dominating, and as always overbearing. His fangs slowly sink into the back of your lips. That familiar iron taste invades your mouth once again. 

Sometimes Miguel feels like a hero, shouldering the universe's burdens, and fighting for what's right. After all, with great power comes great responsibility. This is what he wanted, he always wanted to be the hero.

But sometimes when the spider's lair is abandoned and he returns home to you, he can't help but feel like the villain. He's protecting you he knows that. Justifying it is easy when you watch dimensions wither away in violent glitching and endless screams, daily. Yet he wonders if his predecessors were ever like this. If the heroes are supposed to keep their lovers locked away. Alone yet safe. A fair trade in his mind. 

Miguel isn't quite human, half-everlasting and half-horror. 

A dangerous combination

Or at least a confusing one. 

The point is he's some sort of hero. But that also means he's some sort of villain. Even the old tales got things wrong, not every superhero is carved from porcelain and ivory. Not every villain is built from ash and rage.  

Sometimes heroes are carved from gravestone granite and glazed with poison. Sometimes their powers are self-inflicted curses that chew away at flesh and bone. sometimes the hero's halo is made of barbed wire digging into his scalp and embittering his thoughts. Sometimes heroes kill themselves before any villain gets the chance. Spitling their body apart a million times a day because destiny decided to play a cruel joke on them. Picking the weakest of all mankind to become its guardian. 

When he pulls away from the kiss, he lifts your hand to his mouth. 

His fangs sink into your finger puncturing bone as he gnaws the stress away. Blood leaks down his chin, spilling over the rooftop. He pulls your body closer. An anchor in a never-ending storm. 

You kiss his chin, looking into his eyes. Eyes that can never choose whether they wish to be human or monster. Your head instinctively finds his chest nestling into the cold metal of his suit. 

Oh, how you wish you could crack his rib cage open and crawl inside. 

Sometimes you think back to the original tales. The ones from your dimension, albeit it seems that -regardless of a few rare exceptions- the stories are consistent in every universe.  

The story always goes the same. Peter Parker falls in love with MJ or Gwen, you've come to learn that in the long run, it doesn't really matter. Spiderman saves them again and again. Until the whole world knows that Mj or Gwen are somehow connected to the masked hero. But never once does she leave his side. Rebellious blond or dotting redhead, Spiderman's lover stays regardless of how desperate and vicious the villains become when they start to learn that the story always ends in the hero's favor. 

It's every gal's dream to be the lover of a superhero. Awaiting their betrothed's triumphant return. Greeting them with amorous tidings and cherry red kisses. 

You think you're Gwen or Mary Jane. Or whoever else decided to fall in love with the troubled boy who has radioactivity coursing through his veins. The boy who was deemed a hero and thus was destroyed because of it.

Of course, there's the other part. The underlying message of the story, that parents all so conveniently 'forget' to tell their children. The disease of the otherwise perfect tale. They forget to tell you that Gwen Stacy fell to her death and Mary Jane is left abandoned, once the hero realizes that his mere presence is a curse. Stories may end in the hero's favor but much like the villain the lover is also doomed by the narrative. That's normal for any hero's lover. They always burn out to cater to the hero's ever-fuming torch of justice.

you feel broken, as you're sure they did too. An unspoken rule of being with a hero is that eventually, you start to lose your sense of self without them. It doesn't make sense when you put it like that but along the way bits and piece of you broke off. Pieces that you forgot to patch up. You've been mending by using segments of Miguel to make yourself feel whole again. It's a small miracle that you still hold a fading memory of whom you used to be before he made you his. A miracle that sweeps through the cracks of your soul. 

Heroes never need to fear death, just an eternity of pain. Losing everyone they love, over and over again. Maybe that's why Miguel's grip is so suffocatingly tight. He knows that eventually, not today and maybe not tomorrow but eventually he's going to lose you too. 

You're a comic book Juliet and he's Romeo with superpowers. Everyone knows that comic book heroes are doomed from the start. Neither you nor Miguel are exceptions. 

Maybe the two of you are doomed by the narrative.

But for tonight, as the moon slowly sinks behind the skyscrapers and the stars fade one by one. The two of you are safe in each other's arms. 

[ash-tree-eyes]

Redeath by the Mechanisms is one of those songs that I think is always going to haunt me. The first time I heard it and actually paid attention to the lyrics it instilled a kind of strange cosmic awe and a jealousy that I hadn’t come up with something so hauntingly disturbing first.

It’s like. A planet falls into its sun, and unfurls giant fiery wings, revealing itself to be an unfathomably enormous eldritch creature. It steals the sun as its own, before flying off into the void to presumably go back into a kind of hibernation as a planet for millennia before it ‘dies’ once more. Millions of creatures will likely learn to call it home without ever guessing at its true form. What is it? Where does it come from? Are there more? We don’t know! These immortal space pirates saw it once, because it operates on a timeframe that is impossibly long even for them, and the universe is so vast that they may never see it again. So instead, they write a haunting song about it. To keep some record of this impossible being and its strange beauty. You cannot understand it, so you may as well admire it.

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 22

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 21, Part 23

Warnings: Sagau Imposter au reader with lots of gore and stuff. Minors are warned but not prohibited.

“What a shrewd mortal you are.” The snake hisses as she travels down Baizhu’s arm to face you better. The V-shaped tongue does little to hide the ivory fangs hidden in her maw.

“I appreciate the compliment, but I suggest you reserve your judgment for the main topics of our discussion.”

“Arrogant too, I see!” An amused scoff leaves Changsheng at your bold words, all while Baizhu’s smile remains unchanging. After shutting the door behind him, he keeps his arm perched for Changsheng before sitting on the small stool near the bed.

“It seems you’re feeling much better now than last night. Are you experiencing any pain or discomfort?” 

“None at all.” You lie politely. Getting tied down here any longer than the decided discharge time would be a hassle. 

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.” Baizhu trails off to write something down on the paper he’s holding as Changsheng decides to start the discussion. Despite her small body, she speaks with the same pride the Adepti held. 

“We are already well aware of your body’s abnormalities. But in order for us to get a proper grasp of the scar tissue culture, you’ll need to answer some personal questions.”

Smiling without a hint of unease, you respond as you sit up to face them. “Seems you’re quite interested in me. Or should I say suspicious?”

A swift denial is what you expect. Maybe a truthful answer showcasing her confidence could happen too.

“Does a human who would rather hide their face, rather than accept the consequences of being bare, have any right to question my curiosity?”

Snakes are known to be sly for a reason. Baizhu’s slight upturned eyes at Changsheng’s words only solidify that belief further.

“I guess it was a dumb question.” You shrug, the subtle jab rolling off you with ease. “I am quite popular, I strongly doubt that you've had a patient quite like me.”

Your teeth are bared in a grin at Changsheng, fully aware of what the display means to the animal. 

She merely hmph’s at you before turning her head to the side as Baizhu cuts in amicably.

“Depending on what I discover in this sample, your words may be true Y/N. Why not first explain how you are the Creator’s oracle?”

Lips pursing as your eyes travel to the side of the room, your finger taps rhythmically on your chin. Wondering, contemplating on how you should answer.

At your silence, Changsheng’s eyes narrow as if she's frowning, while Baizhu’s smile turns almost sympathetic.

“I wouldn't pry into this matter as your physician, but as being an adventurer is your official occupation, I felt the need to question this Oracle one. Quite a few jobs connected to The Creator tend to manifest some otherwise unseen conditions.”

If one looked at it on the surface, they would see a concerned doctor looking to take all situations in accouint. But all you see is an ill person investigating a promising lead.

Baizhu’s quest for immortality was always closely connected to the Adepti, and you just had to be outed by a disciple of one.

“It's not like that child was the only one to refer to you as such. Why would an Oracle even hide such basic information from trusted acolytes like ourselves?”

Changsheng’s tone is scathing, and her question is sarcastic. The hot and cold of the pair’s demeanor and words were easy to recognize.

The kind of tactic they were trying to pull on you was the classic ‘good cop, bad cop’ schtick. 

Baizhu’s honeyed words were to coax the information from someone nervous and fearful, while Changsheng’s harshness was meant to pressure and intimidate someone into spilling. 

Something this dubious in a medical setting shouldn't exist. At least not yet, anyway. Most medical malpractice from eras in the past were born from discrimination, religious propaganda and general inexperience of the human anatomy and physiology.

It sure as hell shouldn't work on any sane adult, let alone from someone like Baizhu who is widely trusted but also suspected.

But then you think back on the kind of people that exist in Teyvat. The strange practices seen as normal, the terrifying yet mesmerizing creatures that roam, and your cult…

Yeah, more than one person must have bent to their will. While you doubt it was done with any bad intention. The fact of the matter is that Baizhu could have removed your mask, but clearly didn't. It still wasn't right.

Then again, why should you care? As long as you keep yourself in check to not reveal any more than necessary, then you were satisfied with that.

No need to play hero in a world that can't see past someone's physical features. The heart you once had that urged you to try and change to become a better person has already been burned away.

“Well, this is classified information, but I do have approval to explain my unique circumstances in these kinds of cases.”  

Your smile is sheepish as you tilt your head and avoid their matching piercing gaze. As if you caved into their words and finally came clean.

“I suppose you can say that being an adventurer is my day job, as my true mission is to uncover the truths behind cult members and acolytes alike on their devotion to the Holy One.”

Baizhu’s smile widens, just a smidge at your words. Changsheng is not nearly as impressed and hisses out her first question.

“And how does that justify the matching scars along your body to the Almighty?”

Just how did Changsheng get to say such brutal questions without being frowned upon? Probably because she's a talking snake.

Many adults in this world probably find it unimaginable and fear her, thinking she's on the level of an Adepti. Others may view her as almost unreal and much like a doll to be played with, downplaying her words and sharp intellect like a child.

You just find her as surreal as a dream; Almost detached in a way from the sheer absurdity of a talking snake. It's only thanks to your knowledge from when you were a player that you can see her for herself.

Smiling, you reply to her question with a carefully constructed answer. Admittedly, this question was always one you were afraid of encountering.

“This body belongs to The Creator, and The Creator alone. When I was first summoned by the Almighty and commanded of my mission, they desired to mark me in a way that no one could deny as a connection to them. I chose to be scarred in the same fashion as them.”

A wide smile, almost manic in nature, stretches across your mouth. Calloused fingers intertwined before covering your lips as if to coyly hide. 

“And what better way is there? A subtle yet bold imprinting of the Creator’s hold over me. A way to experience the suffering our poor God must have gone through to be branded like that.”

Words spoken colorfully are nearly purred before you're left with uncontrollable giggles. You finally calm down with a dreamy sigh as you look at the contracted partners.

Baizhu and Changsheng are silent throughout your whole act. The only movement made was them sharing a glance.

And there is only one emotion you can see bloom so vividly in their exchanged eyes. 

Discomfort.

---------------

It's safe to say that neither of them asked any more questions about the matter. Changsheng basically fled the room to “bask in the sun on the windowsill in the hall rather than stay with a human like that.”

You don't take any offense to it. In fact, you're overjoyed that your act worked. The only way to stop them from coming to the natural question of: “Does this mean their face is also like the Creator’s?” was to stop them from wanting to think on that train of thought.

It's exactly why you've been so careful to not let your body be so exposed. At least in regard to your torso, as scars on limbs are much easier to disregard.

Acting as a fanatic really was one of the best and easiest ways to throw off suspicion. No one really tries to dig for anything from a crazy person. After all, they have no sensible rhyme or reason to their actions.

It, of course, came with its own risks. Doing it too much will make people think that you’re actually insane rather than just unstable and will never trust you. And even the act itself can only work in certain situations with the right people, or else everything will fall apart.

That’s why you only use it when you see no other choice like now. Both Baizhu and Changsheng are under confidentiality agreements to not speak about you as a patient and considering the normal behavior for believers, your actions shouldn’t be too taboo.

Just a tad bit surprising.

The feather-light tap on your shoulder pulled you out of your thoughts as you look at the ever-present smile on the doctor. Baizhu sits back down on the stool once he’s sure he has your attention before speaking.

“Since you’ve explained more than enough about your background, we can move on to taking a culture sample of the scar tissue.” Your eyes roam the room for any tools needed for the procedure, and furrow when you fail to find any.

“At least that’s what I would say if I didn’t take it during the initial treatment.” If Baizhu wasn’t such a good doctor, you would ask if his license was revoked yet. This sure as hell doesn’t sound legal.

Annoyance must have been clear on your face as Baizhu leans a little closer to respond calmly. “I can assure you that this is very normal and practiced by many physicians. I just felt the need to tell you, as we agreed to you receiving a form of compensation.”

His eyes slither down your body to linger on where he must have taken the sample. “It would have been a hassle for us both if I waited till now to take it. I would have had to cut your skin after it healed so nicely, meaning you would be at risk for an infection.”

Baizhu may not be acting as obviously as a fanatic as you were earlier, but he was making you wildly uncomfortable. It’s a struggle to keep your body from tensing up under his growing gaze.

“So what did you choose as compensation? Last time we spoke about this, I don’t believe you had a set answer yet.”

With your mind reorienting back to how you can gain from this situation, you request your choice confidently.

“I want the strongest knock-out drug or sedation or whatever other name it goes by that you have. Something that can’t be obtained over the counter. Something that borders on being illegal.”

Was it strange to request this? It seems so, judging by Baizhu’s smile dropping as his eyebrows pinch together in what could be confused as worry.

But it’s a necessity to you.

Yelan and Shenhe couldn’t be dealt with due to the strength imbalance. That would take months, if not years, for you to get to a level where you can fight them one on one without using every means possible to win. Other acolytes exist that were even better than them, some that weren’t even human.

As the environment and tools in your disposal were much different and limited compared to when you were on Earth, you needed something more on the trap side. Having that weird, almost instant knowledge of weapons, elemental energy and rare bursts of power was the most you could ask for in combat. But it would be best to avoid combat if you can.

This drug would be the perfect way to.

“There are plenty of sleeping aids available over the counter. Why not choose from them rather than get a prescription for one from me?”

Baizhu is more than well aware of why you are requesting this, as he specifically addresses it as a mere ‘sleeping aid’. Whether he’s worried about you or for you doesn’t matter.

“I’m not questioning and probing for more answers as to how my tissue sample is so connected to your research. So you shouldn’t be trying to question mine, either.”

His whole face seems to light up at your swift and defensive response. “You have nothing to worry about, my dear.”

A smooth chuckle leaves him as he leans down to whisper into your ear from where you sit on the bed. “I’ll get you exactly what you desire and with any luck, my research will make leaps and bounds of progress.”

Goosebumps are raised across your skin as he stands back up straight. The square-framed glasses almost hiding the slitted golden eyes that try to devour you glint from the sunlight streaming in.

Baizhu leaves and you can finally breathe.

—----------------------

Time passes by slowly and with little options to cure your boredom, you find yourself engrossed in deciding which of Teyvat’s many delicacies you want to try. Last time you cooked on Beidou’s ship, the cooking laws followed the same logic as it did when you played the game.

It was one of the few perks you had from being the Creator. You had to make it count.

Even if it was just to distract yourself from overthinking the upcoming meeting with Ningguang.

It’s the wind’s echoing of the footsteps gradually getting louder that pull you out of the screen and back into the present. With a satisfying stretch, you sit up properly and yell a “Come in!” when a knock rings out.

Different shades of blue hair can be seen entering as Xingqiu strolls in with Chongyun behind him.

You greet them first with a toothy smile and lazy wave. “It's been a while since we last saw each other. Glad to see you both made it back here safely.”

Tension immediately leaves Xingqiu’s shoulders at your words, as Chongyun moves past him to take a hold of your shoulders.

“How could you be so reckless?!” His hair is slicked back, giving you a clear view of his pinched brows and lips bitten raw.

“The Adepti aren't beings to mess with, you could have really died!” Did he think the Adepti were responsible for your injuries? It would be the only logical conclusion, since Yelan chasing you was definitely a secret operation and Shenhe was just by chance.

“I shouldn't have let the confusing mess sweep me along, making me blindly listen to you. Maybe then you wouldn't have gotten this seriously hurt.”

He's hot, you blandly take note as his fingers dig into the clothing. It even seeped through your clothing, but you can't bring yourself to push him off.

Not when he's trying to hide how they shake as if he's the one shivering in a snowstorm.

“Why did you push us to leave with the victims? You and Xingqiu are eloquent enough to have convinced them to let you come back with us! How could you push us away?!”

… Was he trying to blame you? Briefly looking away from the frosty yet heated gaze of Chongyun, you glance at Xingqiu. His head is turned away, and he makes no effort to stop or step in.

“If you just let us help you rather than pushing us away, everything could have been avoided!” What the hell? “I should have just ran back when we were still close enough. Then you wouldn't have been so severely hurt.”

The constant whiplash of Chongyun’s words and emotions confused you. Grabbing his hands, you pry him off and pushed him away.

“I don't understand what you're trying to tell me. Okay, maybe better choices could have been made, but what's the point in dwelling on them now?” There's an annoyed bite to your tone that slips out.

Like gasoline to a fire, Chongyun explodes on you.

“What's the point?! The point is that you nearly died due to something that could have been prevented if we just thought a little harder! What if you died? What would you do then? Nothing! Because it'd be too late!”

His face is red as he yells, and his words feel like a forgotten consciousness crawling back to you. Infesting you with the long forgotten fear of what death had in store for you.

“So what?! That's for me to deal with, not you! If I die then, I die and if I live, then I live.” There's an ugly smile on your face that twists into a snarl. “You don't need to feel responsible for what happened, okay? So don't try to berate me and stew on what is already done.”

Jitters run through Chongyun’s body as he breathes loudly and takes a step forward-Only to get stopped by Xingqiu grabbing his arm.

“Stop it Chongyun. That's enough, your yang spirit is out of control and making you hotheaded.”

“But they-”

“Enough.” Xingqiu’s voice is firm as his grip visibly tightens around the joint. “Cool off inside the room or outside. It's your choice.”

Chongyun glares at Xingqiu before ripping his hand away and stomping to the corner. It's only with the distance that you can see how his fingers tremble worse than an addict.

The popsicle he pulls out is shoved into his throat as sweat visibly sticks to his skin and his haggard breathing becomes visible.

Maybe you should feel sympathetic, but all you can hear is his anger and accusations in your ears.

“Y/N…” Xingqiu’s voice calls out, and you finally get to see his face and take note of the slight red rim around his eyes.

He's been crying, you realize, and what makes it worse is how uncomfortable you feel at the sight.

“Chongyun was definitely in the wrong for getting so mad and starting the fight with you.” He glances over at the Cryo user, who refuses to look at either of you. 

You can spot faint bite marks dotting his fingernails.

“But it's not completely his fault either. He-We’ve been worried ever since we arrived at Liyue and never found you. We tried to-”

“That still doesn't make sense. Just why get so worked up over me missing a few days. I'm an adult, I'll be fine. Hell, I am fine!”

You're agitated and on edge, but for the life of you, you can't tell why. A small part of you, the sensible part of your brain, is already whispering that you're going too far, but you shut it down.

“Why even get mad at me about this? Why not the Adepti?!” Xingqiu’s silent stare at you is like needles prickling your skin.

The annoyance, frustration and confusion are what you cling to at this moment.

“Is it because they're firm believers of the Creator? Is it because you can't trust me as an Oracle?! Or is it because-”

“IT’S BECAUSE WE CARE!” Chongyun bellows out from his spot, whipping around to face you once more.

He takes long strides to you and reaches out his hands to touch you, to grab you-

But stops abruptly at your poorly hidden flinch. His expression morphs into something less fiery, with more hesitancy in his actions.

You let his hands awkwardly rest once again on your shoulders. But instead of the heat you experienced before, his fingers are cool but not cold.

“We were worried because we care about you.” Chongyun doesn't look the same as before. You decide to blame his hairstyle for that.

“I'm sorry for getting so worked up.” He starts slowly, his grip loosening with each word he utters. “I took the anger I had against myself on you, and I'm sorry for that.”

It's foreign to have them worry over your safety. To truly get this emotional over the thought of you dying.

But when you think back to your words and how you reacted in this whole argument, embarrassment creeps in.

“I'm sorry too, I shouldn't have snapped so easily and accused you guys of strange things.”

Yun Jin’s betrayal may have bothered you more than you realized. Not that you were unfamiliar with betrayal, but you didn't expect that a traditionally ‘good’ character would be so quick to sway.

The more you think about it, the more shame you feel.

“While I'm glad you both have made up for the high stress argument, I'm afraid we have more serious matters to discuss.”

Xingqiu’s words alert you both back into the present as he smoothly separates you from Chongyun.

“Ah, that's right, I almost forgot…” Chongyun mumbles to himself, only making you more confused on what the issue was.

“I'm not sure how, but the Qixing knew that you were the main party responsible for saving the kidnapped victims even before you arrived here in this state.”

What? 

The surprise must have been clear on your face as Xingqiu repeated his words and explained with more detail.

“Ganyu did arrive and focus the spotlight on her, but the Qixing immediately poked holes in it. The most adamant was the Yuheng.”

How would your incident with the Geovishap hatchling make Keqing believe you would save the children and not be the one to kidnap them?

The guild wouldn't disclose that information. It was literally stated on the contract Khan signed due to the seriousness of the commission. The breech in the confidentiality contract would be enough to warrant a lawsuit or legal action, they wouldn't risk it.

Did you talk to any guards about the case when searching for information? Anyone notable enough to report to Keqing?

It was no use, you couldn't remember all the details due to how long it's been since then.

“We thought that maybe you had already talked to her, so we brushed it off, but it got worse when we tried to go find you.”

Xingqiu gestures animatedly as he speaks. “Not only were there almost double the guards around the main entrances and exits, but I noticed at least four guards following me in the days leading up to your appearance.”

“We were repeatedly stopped from leaving and even when we tried leaving through unconventional ways, they still found us.” Chongyun finishes as he recounts the events.

“Only once were we able to leave the city in the dead of night, and it was the Yuheng herself that stopped us. She said that since we brought the victims back, she had reason to keep us in the city until further notice.”

Xingqiu scowls as he remembers the memory before cursing. “One hell of a convenient ass excuse.”

Chongyun finishes their story as he opens the curtain slightly and gestures to you to look out with him.

“This morning we both received letters saying we were free to leave now. It was just a few minutes later that we heard about you being brought here. And what do we see when we came to visit the first time?”

Following Chongyun’s line of sight, your breath catches at the sight of a Millelith guard hiding in a shaded area under a golden leaf tree.

“There’s even more in buildings and outside the window view.” Xingqiu adds as he takes the other side beside you.

Knuckles clutching the window sill tightly, you forcibly breathe in and out. Thoughts of just how long they've been watching you, what they could have done, and what they could have seen whirls around your brain.

All those Crystalflies, weasel thieves and the conversations you exchanged were now at risk of being exposed. With your heart thumping painfully loud in your chest, you wonder: What could they have already reported?

What was all your work in keeping out of the Qixing’s sight for? Ganyu didn't have much power, Keqing is set against you, Yun Jin betrayed you, Beidou’s gone and Ningguang already tried to off you with Yelan.

What did you possibly have left?

The two hands that lay on you startle but also ground you back to the present. Smooth skin and icy fingers draw your eyes to switch between the two vision holders.

“It'll be okay, Y/N. If they truly wanted to kill you, then they wouldn't have let you rest easily here.” 

“It's true, Ningguang once poisoned the water supply that specifically went to certain patients in a different clinic.”

And now you feel like shit again. It's not like you could trust Baizhu-you weren't even completely sure whether he intentionally hid the existence of the guards!

At your visible dampened mood, Chongyun lightly kicks Xingqiu’s shin, who only hisses at the pain before retaliating.

Watching them childishly fight like this is fun, a simple and small pleasure that you savor after all the bad news and confusing mysteries. 

That's right. You weren't alone. Not totally, at least.

It was painful to think about how your plan to avoid and leisurely please the Qixing failed, but it wasn't all over. Xingqiu and Chongyun thoroughly proved themselves on whose side they were on.

And if push came to shove, you could agree to marry Zhongli and let him deal with your problems.

“Don't worry too much, you two.” At your sudden but cryptic words, both of them stop and look at you.

Smiling serenely despite the turbulence your heart was suffering through, you give a vague explanation. 

“I already have a scheduled meeting with Ningguang. I'll either be praised by the masses as the oracle I am, or show up in a casket at the Wangsheng’s Funeral Parlor.”

Ending it with a sneaky grin, you press a finger to your lips. “I'm aiming for the third option of getting minor recognition before hitchhiking to Mondstadt.”

Rewriting this crap since TUMBLR KICKED ME OUT. I copy the ending that I wrote and only one word of it actually saved for me to paste. I wanna strangle this website. But anyway, got back from vacation, slept, unpacked and finished setting up everything properly after my editor finished. Just rechecked and turns out Tumblr also removed all the italics and bold which I had to re-add, how NICE I did manage to get a whole nice length chapter finished while I was away but I'm saving that for later as school is starting. I wanna have it there and post it in a while when I'm swamped while trying to get my school in order. So. Looking. Forward. To. It. :) I finished reading a few previous chapters to keep everything on track and wow. Y/N used to be so happy and hopeful lol. I would ask what happened but I’M what happened. It was still really fun to reread the adventure with Ayato. Perhaps it wasn’t obvious but Baizhu didn’t completely fall for the fanatic act. Changsheng trust her own judgement too much to look past the surface unless the person is visibly mysterious or pulling away. That’s why Baizhu could act the way he does despite the initial discomfort he felt (which was not faked) Taglist: Open as always!

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[knightotoc]

I always liked the riddle scene in the Hobbit, but I never knew what it really meant until I read the original just now. The main idea is lost in adaptations because you need to get into their heads. I knew it was a high-stakes version of a kids' game and a mythology/fairytale reference, but it still seemed pretty random and hard to believe, since these two are the last characters you'd put in a battle of wits.

But the scene is actually about how people's environments shape the way they think. Bilbo and Gollum are both so flustered that they can only think of what are, to them, very easy riddles. They keep feeling ashamed that they can't think of something harder, and confident that the other guy will get this immediately. But the other guy is stumped, because his mind works differently, because he lives in the opposite environment.

Solving the riddles isn't actually about being smart, but being empathetic in Bilbo's case and nostalgic in Gollum's. Bilbo is only able to comprehend Gollum's nasty way of thinking because they are in his lair, amongst the dark and fish. Bilbo is repulsed and even unable to guess Gollum's final riddle, only winning by luck (he stutters "I need more time" so badly it sounds like the correct answer, "time").

Gollum is only able to imagine Bilbo's pleasant answers by thinking back to his past, when he was a normal guy who lived with his grandmother near flowers, eggs, and cats. In this book, he isn't confirmed to be a former hobbit, but the parallel becomes more tragic with this retroactive backstory. Gollum indirectly tells Bilbo that time is the only thing that separates them, and Bilbo does not understand this. If Bilbo had the "more time" he requests, hundreds of years here in the dark, he would become like Gollum, wisdom at a terrible price.

The main theme of The Silmarillion is how immortality affects people. Elves are fated to live forever in the undying lands of Valinor. Humans instead have the "Gift of Ilúvatar," the great mystery of an unknown afterlife. Elves are counterintuitively jealous of this gift, since death allows humans to escape the music of Arda, the fate which defines all creation.

Bilbo and Gollum, who were so different in life that they could barely follow each other's thoughts, also end up with the opposite deaths. The elves take Bilbo to Valinor, while Gollum goes to the mysterious afterlife of the other unchosen mortals. (At least two elves, Lúthien and Arwen, chose this fate for themselves out of love for a guy. But generally this is the unchosen/fate defying route for souls to go.)

So during their first meeting, Gollum is the one who understands the destructive power of time. But in the long term, Bilbo will come to understand time as an endless font of wisdom and peace, since nothing can be destroyed in Valinor. We don't know how or even if the mortal afterlife experiences time; if Gollum's pessimistic definition would hold true, or if that, too, would eventually change.

[tossawary]

When writing fanfiction, there are a lot of unknowns surrounding Mobei-Jun that I answer based on what I think is compelling, funny, and/or contrasts well against SQH | Airplane Bro. (Sometimes, based on what contrasts interestingly and/or hilariously against Luo Binghe or Shen Qingqiu.) The choices I make for MBJ also depend on what suits that particular story.

An interesting question: "What kind of literature does Mobei-Jun like?" He's Airplane Bro's Ideal Man / Dream Guy! It's fun to think about what Mobei-Jun's relationship might be to fiction.

One choice that I've pulled a few times now is having Mobei-Jun be functionally illiterate, mostly because I think that situation is an interesting / amusing contrast to the guy who technically wrote the world into existence. Airplane Bro was cranking out thousands of words per day to eat, selling out his honest passion for literature, and Mobei-Jun can't / doesn't read.

There are lots of different potential reasons for this! Maybe Mobei-Jun is dyslexic. Maybe he desperately needs reading glasses and doesn't realize it. (Yes, maybe half of his glaring is just squinting.) Maybe his education was really bad because his family tried to murder him too many times. Maybe he just doesn't have any interest in fiction or in reading as a hobby in general, because paper / writing is rare in the Demon Realm for a variety of reasons and he's been busy building more relevant skills.

(Airplane Bro is shocked and offended, yes, but mostly because Mobei-Jun somehow successfully hid being unable to read from him for two or more decades. All of those "you read it" and "you write it" orders suddenly make so much sense.)

Another direction for "Mobei-Jun's relationship to media" that I've been enjoying lately as a premise is that Mobei-Jun is the sort of person who would have genuinely enjoyed "Proud Immortal Demon Way". But, like, in a weird way. Like, maybe Mobei-Jun isn't there for the women or the power fantasy, but he's fascinated by the cage of dissatisfaction, misery, and cruelty that the protagonist is building around himself using empty pleasures and merciless vengeance. Mobei-Jun is there for the tragedy. Everyone else in the comments section would think that he's a weirdo for different reasons, including Airplane Bro, but Mobei-Jun is (by accident) operating on a level where he sees the vision.

Alternate direction on "Mobei-Jun would like PIDW, actually": maybe he would like it because he actually loves trashy drama and stupid catfights. He's there for the comedy. He grew up in an environment where his father stole his uncle's wife and his own uncle tried to kill him multiple times, after all. In PIDW itself, right-hand man Mobei-Jun somehow successfully suffered years upon years of Luo Binghe's harem nonsense, and maybe Mobei-Jun was having the time of his life watching Sha Hualing start shit in the harem, actually!

Maybe in a Modern AU, Airplane Bro would try to sound intelligent and cultured by talking to his rich boss / boyfriend about classy literature, only to find out that Mobei-Jun basically only watches reality television competitions where people are constantly trying to tear each other's hair out for money. If people aren't screaming in each other's faces over a spilled glass of wine, throwing plates at each other over a stolen boyfriend or a ruined wedding, or backstabbing each other via wardrobe sabotage to get ahead, then Mobei-Jun is bored. Fighting matches or extremely dangerous sports are also fine, though, sure. (Airplane Bro doesn't like any of this stuff. He's a fantasy novel guy. He has no idea how to react to this.)

Another funny direction for "Mobei-Jun's relationship to media" is that maybe "Proud Immortal Demon Way" wouldn't actually be weird ENOUGH for Mobei-Jun's tastes. Maybe Mobei-Jun would be like that guy who claims "if I can guess the twist, then it's not suspense - suspense is when I don't know what's going to happen next, period" and reads long-running, amateur, foreign, abstract web-novels that he has to put through an online translator himself. Maybe in a Modern AU with this opinion, Mobei-Jun loyally watches telenovelas and Bollywood soap operas. Airplane Bro comes into the room and says, "Wow, not even any subtitles? You can understand what they're saying?" and Mobei-Jun says sincerely, "No. You have to figure out what's happening without them. This is the intended viewing experience."

[1800-page-not-found]

Being drunk and complaining how you think your bf is prettier than you (genshin men x fem reader) PART 2

GUESS WHOS BACK FOR PART 2 EHEHEHHEHEHH

anyways my bad for delaying this for so long lmaoooooooo

in my defense i am lazy so

ALSO...i kinda um derived from the main like 'complaining how hes prettier than u' and its more like 'ur so fucking pretty' BUT its still good pls read it plspls i beg u

Characters:(seperate) Harbinger Scaramouche era, Wanderer Scaramouche era, Gorou, Xiao, Baizhu, Kaveh

Let me feed u again with some gorgeous men

Scaramouche was a bit annoyed. After all, as a harbinger, he had no time to deal with such idiotic things. But when he found out you overheard some unsightly humans whispering about this, he was furious. Especially because you had to be drunk to admit this to him. Did he not give you all of his heart? So why do you still not trust me? And how dare someone make you feel so insecure. "No, no," you shook your head, solemn. "I-I didn't want to bother you about such things, its alright Love, I'm fine." you cupped his face with your hands and smiled at him, assuring him it'd be ok. "E-erm.." he stuttered, flustered by you holding his face. I mean, someone as pretty as you is his girlfriend. His! "If you'd like, I do have some spare time.." he paused, looking for a reaction. Your face lit up. Drunk you was quite bold and honest. "Really?! Does that mean i have you all to myself?!" you jumped up in glee. You pulled him out your home in Snezhnaya, going to who knows where and doing god knows what. After you exhausted yourself and fell asleep in his secure arms, it was time to punish. Those foul beings never walked the entirety of Teyvat again. Waking up, you had no recollection about what you did when you were black out drunk, but your lover's public display of affection grew, from shyly holding hands and sneaking his arms around your waist to kissing you in front of everyone, and also calling you pretty, beautiful, etc.

(down below is before the Wanderer gains his memories)

The Wanderer was the equivalent to a dandelion seed that never stopped floating. But when he found you, it was like finding firm ground to grow and blossom. You made him feel things that made him whole. You showed him all sorts of emotion. One day you came home (he moved in your home) drunk, tripping over yourself. Wanderer rushed to support you as you leaned against the wall. "hehehe!" You giggled, wrapping you arms around your neck. "Y/n!" he stammered. "Gosh," You sighed, staring lovingly into your lover's eyes. "How did i get such a beautiful boyfriend?.." He was flustered, face red and all. "You're so much prettier than me and everyone...what if someone snatches you away from me!?!" you started to worry. "Y/n my love, it should be i who is afraid, you're so kind to everyone and unintentionally charismatic...theres even a fan club of you..." (he totally didnt start a fan club about you)

"Gorou baby, why are you just so cute?.." you held his face and leaned in, staring deeply at his features admiring them. Gorou wasn't accustomed to this type of affection, or affection in general. "W-what? Cute?! I-I'm not!" He was very red, closing his eyes in embarrassment after noticing his tail wagging. "My cute little general...I just wanna keep you all to myself!" You laughed, holding Gorou by the waist in one arm and holding a cup of beer in the other. "Y/nnnnnn...." he covered his face with his hands, he didn't want you to see him like this...you'd just call him cute again!

"Ohhhhhhhhh Xiaooooo over hereeee! Hehehe" you laughed, waving your arms drunkenly at Xiao as you clutched a whole bottle of dandelion wine given to you by a bard who was your friend. Xiao sighed as he walked over to you. "I didn't know an immortal would have such low alcohol tolerance...that damn bard.." He sighed again, pinching the bridge of his nose annoyed. "You're so gorgeous Xiao...my gorgeous boyfriend. So so pretty...hmmm" you collapsed forward, but fortunately, a blushing mess of a Xiao caught you and carried you bridal style (heheeh) to your home. "What nonsense are you spouting...I'm not...gorgeous or pretty..." Affection and love were new to him. make sure you give him lots of it in the future!

Baizhu, as someone who is ill, did not drink any form of alcohol that night. You however...drank both shares of alcohol given. Thus you were very, very drunk. "Baizhuuuu...." you slurred. "Yes dear?" He replied softly, smiling. "You're just...toooo pretty. Prettier than everyone hehehe!" you giggled like some high school girl in love as you looked up at his rather stunning face as you laid on his lap. "Oh my... getting flirty now are we? I think you're the most stunning and intelligent woman i've ever met!" Changsheng grimaced. "You guys are so lovey-dovey it's going to make me vomit!"

As a rather broke architect, Kaveh usually wasn't able to drink such a high-quality wine. And you, a rather wealthy individual who practically ran the fruit industry in Teyvat, travelled a lot. So this fancy dinner kaveh had cooked up and the luxurious wine you had brought back as a souvenir made a perfect romantic time at your house. I forgot to mention. The two of you were really, REALLY drunk. "God that awful man! I can't believe I have to be his roommate!" You laughed. "You could always stay with me you know. Ah but i suppose you'd get lonely...whatever! Anything my pretty boyfriend says I'll agree hehe" You stared at his face, admiring his beauty. "I mean, gosh smart and pretty?! I got soooooooooo luckyyy" Kaveh was very bashful towards your flattering comments. "I'm not pretty! I'm handsome!" He argued. "Right, right...you're handsome! Super duper handsome!" You laughed. "Stop teasing me!" He was practically a tomato! "Awwww is someone shy? I should do this more often!~" The teasing went on for a record breaking one and a half hours! I wonder if you can break the record again next time?

[slashingdisneypasta]

Kung Fu Panda Villains x Reader || Drabbles

Plot / Includes: The common theme is tea XD

General Kai x Immortal!Reader: After coming back to the living plain as a spirit warrior, Kai’s first stop is to find you, an immortal ex-lover. Will you be happy to see him, though??

Lord Shen x ChildhoodFriend!Reader: You make Shen some tea because he’s always so uptight, and you crave a nice moment with him ^^

Tai Lung x Reader: The first thing Tai Lung does after escaping prison is visit you, his girlfriend/boyfriend/romantic partner from before he was imprisoned- and you’ve been waiting for him ^^

Annnnd, this is my first attempt at writing any of these guys, so I’m sorry if they aren’t quite right!

Warnings: I guess Tai gets a little frisky with you? But not really XD He’s just happy to see you!! XD

General Kai:

… A spirit warrior. This man leaves you for war, starts stealing peoples chi, doesn’t come back for 5 hundred years- and when he finally does come back, he is something called a spirit warrior??

You are deeply unamused. And he knows it- how could he not? You are standing in your doorway looking up at him with a scowl on your lips. He better be intimidated.

“So… “Your voice is as cold as ice, eyes narrowing in distaste as he rubs the back of neck in nervousness at your reaction to him after all these years. Not because he is nervous, but because he has the good sense to look it. “how did it go??”

“Wh- uh… the war??”

“Yes.”

“Well, I um… Oogway banished me to the spirit realm… “

“I heard… “

“Oh, you know. So- uh- you know, that’s why I haven’t been around… not that I didn’t wanna see you, or forgot you or, or anything… “

“Uhuh… “

“Look, can I come in?” He suddenly snaps, dropping his large arms to his sides and moving in closer to you, letting go of the façade of nervousness. “I got other places to be.”

“Oh! You have other places to be??” Immediately Kai realises he has said the wrong thing, when you light up like this. “Great! Go there!”

Then you slam the door in his face. You think he was so close that it knocked his nose- you hope that it knocked his nose. You stay by the door just long enough to hear him grunt on the other side, before sweeping off further into your house to start forgetting he came at all. You spent over 500 years missing him, he can’t just come back one day and treat you like a stop along the way.

Also- what he did, what he is no doubt still trying to do, is unforgiveable. And you refuse to be party to it. No way.

When your door literally flies off the hinges behind you, slamming into the ground with a huge, loud THUD, you whip around with wide eyes and take in a deep breath- ready to yell at this bastard for knocking down your goddamn door-

But he strolls on in, breaking your door further when he steps on it, and holds a hoof up to your face- silencing you. “Y/N… Come on, lets just talk about this.” As you stay completely silent then, Kai takes the opportunity to soften a little bit, using those bovine eyes on you in that way he knows used to make you melt once upon a time. “I missed you.”

… damnit, it still has an effect on you. Not quite the same effect, you’re still holding together - you’re still pissed, - , but that little part of you that was there since you saw him today that desperately wants to accept him back- get a little bit louder.

Now, you can’t do that, you can’t just forgive him, but you can hear him out. On your terms, but… you can be okay with him being in your house… at least. You guess. So, straightening up, you brush his hoof out of your way with the back of your hand, relishing inwardly in the way his face drops at the motion, and head towards the kitchen.

“… fine. Fix that door and if you manage to do that before I finish the tea, you can have some. Deal?”

“I’m on it.”

Lord Shen:

“Shen? I made tea, and thought you might want a cup before you leave?”

“Tea?... I don’t need your tea- “

“Agree to disagree. Sit down.”

This made Lord Shen look at you as if you grew 3 heads and shat on the rug for a good long moment, but you don’t remove your gaze from his even though he’s scary, and after a few moments, he narrows his eyes at you and sits down on the other side of the mat. Success-

“Just a sip.” He tells you, in that hushed voice of his that can be goddamn terrifying depending on what you’ve done, as he picks up a cup in is wing. “I’ve never had tea from you, before… Wonder if it’ll be palatable.” He thinks out loud, half to himself and half to bother you, peering into the cup.

Oh, now- Rolling your eyes, you raise a cup to your own lips, feeling the warmth in your hands, and nod to him. Go on. “Well only one way to find out.” You’ve known Shen for a long time now, you grew up together, so his meanness doesn’t do quite the same thing to you as it does to others. Also, you’ve always been rather resilient, and a little naïve. No matter how hard someone may try to convince you, you cant truly believe that Shen is evil. Evil doesn’t really exist, and if it does then surely it has worse things to do then live inside Shen.

You feel like people calling him evil is just an easy way for them to compartmentalize, and you would rather know him. Which you do. That’s how you kept up eye contact with this insane bird-

“Right… “

As you take a sip yourself, and feel the warm liquid slide down your throat and fill your insides with lovely heat, you wait patiently for Shen to do the same. It takes him a moment, scowling at you as you drink your tea, before he lets out a dramatic sigh and tries it himself. “Alright, alright.” You watch his pretty face change, no longer does it look like he smelt something awful- it actually looks… surprised. Vaguely pleasantly surprised, as a matter of fact, as he looks back into the cup. “… hm.”

“Hmm?~ “

“Its… well, I’m not dead.”

“Did you really think it would kill you, Shen? That I would try to kill you?” You deadpan, but raise your brows expectantly when he raises his eyes to you.

… He pauses. “… well- “

“Shen!”

“You’re right, you wouldn’t have what it takes, would you? No… “ Smirking, Shen takes another sip of his tea. “Thank you, though. This tea is remarkably edible.”

… sighing, you roll your eyes look away as you take another sip yourself. “Thanks. You’re welcome.”

Shen steals your attention again, though, as he drains the last of his tea and holds out the cup to you, an oddly adorable - yet still crazy, - expression on his face. Soft, and almost pleading. “… Can I have some more, then?” His voice, of course, is still terrifying.

A slow grin spreads across your face. “… I thought you were on your way out?”

“Oh shut up, and pour me some tea.”

Tai Lung:

“Y/N!” A familiar voice yells, banging at your front door.

“Tai??” You ask, wide eyed and shocked as you pull the door open and see him standing there.

“Y/N.” He says again, unbelievable and desperate relief in his tone as he pulls you against his chest in the warmest hug you’ve ever experienced- well, since you last saw him. 20 years ago. He breathes in at your head, taking as much of your scent as he can. As he breathes out, he releases a growl, but it is not an unhappy one- its full of comfort. When he speaks, his voice pitters into a bit of whine, at the end. “It’s been too long… “

You just squeeze him closer to you, burying your face in his shoulder and closing your eyes. Its unbelievable to you that he’s here, with you again. How did he get out?? You don’t even care. You don’t even care if he should be out, or what he’s going to do now that he is, you just want to stay here tucked away in him, listening to his heartbeat and holding on to it.

After a few minutes, though, you begin to get nervous someone will see him and call someone- and he would be taken away again- so, sniffing, you pull back gently, and flash him a warm smile; nodding inside. “Do you- do you want some tea??”

Still holding onto your hands/the ends of your wings/paws/etc, his paws being so much larger than what you have, he keeps you close to his body and warmly grins. “I don’t want to let you go, little one.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Alright then.”

You lead him inside and he closes the door behind you both, and while you’re pouring the water into the kettle he wraps his arms around your body from behind and sets his head on top of yours, curling his tail around one of your legs as well. He purrs.

After you set the kettle over the fire Tai Lung sits himself down on one of your kitchen chairs - again, not letting go of your hand/wing/paw/etc at all for even a moment, - before urging you onto his lap where he wraps himself back around you again. “I’ve missed you… “He growls into your hair. “So much, little one… I thought about you, in there, you know… all about you… “

“Oh, I’m assuming you thought about other things, too… “You reply, rolling your eyes, though still very much happy he’s here. Other things, like the scroll… dragon warrior… Shifu… escape…

Chuckling against you, and brushing his tail against you, Tai nods. “Yes, but when I was thinking of you… “ He suddenly squeezes your waist in his paws, making you yelp. “You were the only thing, on my mind… “

“Hmm,” You just him, leaning your head on his chest.

After a few more moments of blessed enjoyment of each other’s company, each other’s touch and warmth, Tai speaks up again. This time, there is a hint of nervousness in his voice that causes you to lift off of his chest in order to watch his face; Concerned. “Were you… uh, I mean, have you… “ Sighing, he looks away for a moment and gathers himself. Then looks back, serious. “Is there anyone else?... “

The look on his face is saying that he wouldn’t blame you, if their were. You were without him for a long, long time. And he would prefer you be happy, with someone else… then depressed, and alone. It would hurt him… but he loves you.

It tells you that you made the right decision in waiting all this time.

With a small, sad smile, you shake your head at him. “I promised you- I would wait. I’m yours, Ta- Ah!“ He kisses you then like he cant help it, growling into your mouth.

When he pulls back, his paw on your jaw, theirs a pleased grin on his face- but unbelievably fond look in his yellow eyes. “… I’m yours too, Y/N.”