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milchig-de · 2 months ago

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Caught

Pairing: Lighter x Reader

Summary: You just want to chill and jerk off but Lighter catches you in the act. What will he do?

Warnings: It's sex guys what can i say. Read at your own discretion, 18+ etc. Reader has a dick but is kept gender neutral (do tell if i missed something)

Notes: I am sooo normal about him. Super, completely normal. Not freaking out about him or anything. Nuh uh. No way.... I say, writing smut fanfic abt him shsjhdks

i feel like i wrote him a bit ooc, but im excusing it with the fact we don't interact with him that much shsks

"Ugh."

You plop down on your bed while letting out a very unceremonious groan. It was another hard day of working with the Sons of Calydon. After almost losing the cargo you were transporting and getting chewed out by Lucy (followed up by Caesar telling her to chill, which then ended in another battle, pulling you in as a judge and in the end bringing more of Lucy's wrath upon you because of course she lost) you want to do nothing more than just relax and have a restful sleep.

With the utmost willpower you can muster up, you get up to change into some clean clothes, do your usual before bed routine and slip under your covers. Happily, you cuddled yourself deeper into the comfort of your sheets. Only...

Sleep doesn't come to you. At all.

Looking at the clock, you realize it's still fairly early. So naturally, your mind is still running at top speeds even though your body craves some respite.

So what can you do to either pass some time or make yourself sleepier?

Well, some good options include making yourself some warm milk or counting sheep, reading a book, the usual options one would go for.

But all of those options sound incredibly tedious. Not only would you have to get up and leave the comfort of your bed for some of them, they all just sound so... unappealing. Plus you've tried counting sheep and the like before, you know it doesn't work for shit.

So, you choose the worn and proven method of: Masturbating. It weakens your mind so it can easily fall prey to sleep- you have some tissues on your night table as well. Hopefully, cleaning yourself up afterwards won't cause you to lose the sleepiness.

You push the covers off of you. It would be even more tedious if you accidentally smear pre on them, which would mean having to change the sheets and wash them.

Since you're not hard yet, you start gently palming your dick through your pants. You try imagining something arousing that'll do the trick, remembering some porn you watched recently or just general sexy stuff. But... even though you try not to think of anyone specific, only one person comes to mind. The undefeated champion and your one and only long-time crush, Lighter Lorenz. Well, not that he knows that he's your crush, you've just figured he's probably not interested in you. It's not like you're proper partner material.

Shaking your head, you try to get rid of your thoughts regarding Lighter. It's bad enough you can't stop thinking about him during the day, you don't want to also imagine him in the most vulnerable state. But it just seems impossible. The bad boy act he puts on captivates you, even more so when his nicer side shines through when he's flustered, not to mention his devilishly handsome face and his fat ass that keep circling around in your head until all your thoughts surround only him again. You wish you could just rail him into tomorrow until he forgets his own fucking name, slamming your cock into his hole and passionately sucking on his tongue- yeah you're beyond saving.

Groaning at your unsuccessful attempts of getting aroused by something other than who is basically your co worker, you rethink. Is it really so bad to desire him like this? After all, any thoughts like wanting him naked and the like won't ever come to his attention; it's not like he can read your mind. As long as you can manage to act normal towards him, it shouldn't be a problem to jerk off to your thoughts about him... Surely.

So you decide to just go with the flow. You pull your pants down to half of your thigh. Your dick springs up, throbbing eagerly at the thought of getting some much needed stimulation.

You lick your hand and then spit on it to have some lubrication, before you enclose your shaft in your fist, imagining it was Lighter doing this to you. A sense of relief washes over you and instinctively, you moan out Lighter's name, upon which you immediately slam your other hand over your mouth because you know the walls are not particularly soundproof. Technically, the others should be out but... there's still plenty of other people hanging about where they shouldn't be.

Keeping your hand clasped around your mouth, you start moving your fist up and down your cock again. Squeezing the top, you can't help but shudder blissfully at the pleasure coursing through you- until your door is suddenly thrown open.

"Hey, did you call for me-"

Your wide eyes make contact with Lighter's equally wide eyes through his sunglasses. For a moment, neither of you move or say anything, you with one hand around your dick and the other on your mouth, while Lighter stands at your door, still holding the door open.

Then you quickly scramble to pull your pants back up and Lighter quickly closes the door behind him, presumable to shield your dignity from even more humiliation.

Your face burns as you try to adjust to a position where your still raging boner isn't too obvious. Regardless of the obvious circumstances (and your very obvious embarrassment), you try to play it cool.

"So uhm, did you need anything from me? I'm too tired to do anything else today so you can also just tell me tomorrow... "

Clearing his throat, Lighter also tries to resume with his usual act of being aloof and uncaring, but his red face is a dead giveaway.

"I was walking past and heard my name so I thought you called for me... I really didn't expect to find you like this though."

No fucking way he heard you moan his name. Holy shit. You need to leave the Outer Ring, change your identity immediately. There's no way you can live with him knowing what you truly think of him. Just thinking about how awkward it would be- not to mention the chaos it would bring to the Sons of Calydon. As a gang, you need to work together like clockwork, there's no space for weird tensions. You could live with the shame, but you're not sure if he'd even want to hang around you anymore. Your mind runs at 100 miles an hour as you scramble to work some excuses up.

"Lighter, listen it's- it's not what you think-"

He raises an eyebrow at you. Yeah he clearly saw you jerking off- there's no way you're getting out of it. So you jump to plan B. You straighten up, trying to look as serious as you can, even with your still flushed face.

"Lighter, I'm... I'm sorry. I know you don't see me that way and that this is a super awkward situation. I know you're probably super grossed out at me, but I really hope this conflict won't affect the gang. I'm.."

You take a deep breath, trying to stay calm at your next words.

"I'm ready to leave the Sons of Calydon if I make you uncomfortable."

Lighter flinches at your words. You and him have shared a few of your struggles- so he knows this isn't an easy decision for you. After the gang picked you up when you were at your lowest, leaving it would mean leaving your only home behind. With nowhere to go, what would happen to you? The Outer Ring certainly isn't a place where it's easy to find one's footing. But more importantly...

" You've got nothing to apologize for. I'm not uncomfortable with... this situation, and uhm, you."

You stare at him, stunned. It'd be a lie to say you didn't half expect him to just start punching you.

He clears his throat and looks off to the side, a light blush covering his face.

"Actually, I'm very interested in what you were doing before I came in."

Huh?

"I-In fact, I want to know just what you were thinking about to get you to moan out my name... if you could tell me?"

HUH???

Not only is he not grossed out, it seems like he's enjoying this?? You can tell he has a smile on his face from the way his eyes seem to crinkle, even with his hand covering the lower half of his face. You sputter out a startled reply.

"W-well, I was imagining us making out and touching each other... I was thinking about you stroking my dick and- wait!"

You're sure you were as red as Old Daddy right now. Is this really okay? Is it really fine for you to just tell him your disgusting fantasies? Is he really... not upset? You squeeze your thigh before voicing your concerns.

"Are-are you sure you want to hear this? I mean, it's pretty gross for me to think these things about you and even more so to voice them so uh, I'm very sorry again"

A short silence engulfs you. Then, Lighter starts walking towards you. Squeezing your eyes shut, you brace yourself for the impact of his fist, but it never comes. Instead, you only feel him sit down at the end of your bed and gently put a hand on your leg. Composed as he seems, you still feel the slight tension in his hand. You cautiously open your eyes.

"If I had been uncomfortable, I would've made this clear by now. I definitely wouldn't stay around to hear someone being horny about me if I wasn't interested. And I also don't think you're gross. Actually I-, uhm"

He starts stammering and his face heats up again. He is pretty cute like this. You wish you could just snatch him up and kiss him so he wouldn't have to try speaking anymore.

"I think you're..."

He takes a moment to clear his throat, collecting himself.

"You're wonderful. You always care for me when I do end up getting into a fight. It... it helps me immensely in dealing with... the aftermath. To tell you the truth, I've also had significantly less nightmares because of you. And you're just... so pretty and handsome... It'd be hard not to like you."

Ah. You want to think he's lying- it's hard to accept anyone could ever think of you in a positive way. After all, you don't really have anything to offer. You're not funny or interesting to talk to, you don't have an important job in the gang and you most certainly aren't the most handsome person you can imagine. All in all, you're just an average joe!

But you know Lighter wouldn't lie to you- plus, all of these things are subjective judgments from you. Who's to say he doesn't see you differently?

Clenching your fist, you shuffle closer towards him, bringing your face near his. You reach up to take off his glasses, but hesitate. You know that they act as a sort of barrier against the world around him. Seeing your hesitation, Lighter gives you a short nod. So, you gently pull them off, your hands trembling. Gazing into his eyes, you reply.

"I... Well, you've probably already figured this out, but I also find you quite attractive. I mean, not only your body I just think you're so cute and I love the way you care for the other gang members..."

He gazes at you, with a love in his eyes that make you feel like you could burst at any moment. If there's anything you wish for, it's to keep this moment burned eternally in your memory. One of his hands comes up to cup your cheek.

"May I kiss you?"

You nod and he pulls you closer until your lips touch. Feeling his warmth on your lips is like a dream come true. There's a faint smell of oil and sweat coming off of him- it only makes you all the more hungrier for him.

Hesitantly, you decide to take the first step- since he has shown you that he truly desires you, it's time for you to step up to the plate.

You open your mouth and slide your tongue out to worm your way into his. He quickly lets you in, greeting your tongue with his own. They dance and wrestle with each other. You taste his spit and savour the taste, groaning into his mouth.

A string of spit connects you as you pull off with a wet sound. You gaze into each other's eyes as you pant, both utterly flushed.

Ligther regains his composure faster.

"Do you... think you could continue? With what you were doing before?"

You raise your eyebrows.

"You... want to watch me masturbate?"

"Yes."

"Well... I was going to do this anyway."

You return to your previous position under his heavy gaze. The way he drinks in every movement of yours leaves you utterly exposed- moreso when you start taking off your clothes. For the sake of him getting to see something, you undress completely.

Your dick already stands at attention again, having temporarily deflated during the serious talk with Lighter. Letting out an anticipating sigh, you grasp your cock again and squeeze it before starting up with the familiar up and down movement.

Moans fall from your mouth, partially influenced by Lighter's gaze on you. Glancing up at him, his flustered state encourages you.

You decide to put on a show for him. Sliding your fist up, you swipe your thumb across the head to collect the bead of precum, but then continue to tease the head and rub the spots which are the most sensitive. This naturally makes you let out more sounds, which seems to please Lighter, as he even sneaks a hand down to palm himself through his pants.

His watchful gaze leaves you feeling utterly exposed and incredibly aroused. Staring into his eyes, you can't help but imagine again that he's the one twisting his hand around your cock. Just the thought makes you unconsciously speed up, building up a feeling in your stomach that makes you curl your toes. Closing your eyes you let your head fall back, barely able to handle being watched.

After a few more strokes, you tilt your head down to look at him again. The sight is downright divine. He's panting almost as much as you, face flushed and still palming his dick. His elated expression brings you over the edge, ropes of cum shooting out onto you.

Seeing that you're finished, he stares at you, watching your chest rise from your heaving breaths.

Something in him snaps and he rushes forward to hungrily connect your lips again, shoving his tongue in your mouth once more. With barely any time to react, you try your best to reciprocrate, eventually managing to sneak a hand down to grope his ass. Lighter lets out a moan, his tongue still in your mouth. You use this opportunity to suck on it. His eyes flit to yours in surprise before they roll up at the wave of pleasure you managed to solicit by groping his very visible bulge.

But it's not enough friction, not enough of your touch for him, so Lighter separates from you and starts stripping. Although he only does it with the main goal of getting his clothes off, you can't help but be entranced by his body. His muscles flex and stretch while he undresses, a few scars decorating his body. It's obvious he fights for a living, but in the most positive sense.

You're so distracted with gawking at him that you don't even notice Lighter has finished undressing. So he decides to take the lead instead. Grasping your hand that's still covered in cum, he licks it off all while maintaining eye contact. You moan out at his actions, your dick twitching to life again at the erotic sight.

Encouraged, you immediately move to pleasure him after he lets go of your hand, but Lighter instead grabs the back of your neck and pulls you into a kiss.

His lips are somewhat chapped, you can smell motor oil and sweat on him. It feels so good to have his warmth against your lips, to move in tandem with him. It only gets better when he opens his mouth and licks at yours. You follow suit, letting him explore your mouth with his tongue. You can still taste your cum on it. The sensations of it make you groan into his mouth, eliciting a shudder from him.

But still you decide to focus on the more important thing: Lighter's cock. You gently push him back. Understanding your intentions, he moves back and adjusts to sit comfortably.

Grabbing his dick in your hand causes him to let out a hiss of relief. Seems like he has really needed this as well. Massaging it gently, you spit into your other hand for some much needed lubrication. Then you start stroking it, earning yourself a few moans from him. It doesn't take too long before he starts panting in earnest, hot puffs of breath leaving his mouth intertwined with occasional groans.

"Mmh... Very good...Ngh- I like that..."

You swipe at his tip when you reach it a few times, before deciding to duck down and kiss it.

"Ah! Y-you don't need to use your mouth for- ahhnnnngh...."

You had opened your mouth and taken his tip into your mouth. You swirled your tongue around his tip, playing with his slit. Lighter can't help but let out a series of moans and whimpers, sounding like an angel sent straight from heaven. All the while, you of course haven't stopped stroking the rest of it with your hand. You consider just deep throating him, but you're not really feeling up to the task. So instead, you focus on the tip and even swallow around it. This earns you a well-deserved whimper. To test the waters, you carefully graze his dick with your teeth. He bucks his hips up at that, accidentally thrusting his dick further into your throat, causing you to pull off of him out of reflex.

"Ah shit, sorry I didn't mean to- NGHHF" He starts reaching for you, but before he can do anything, you're back on track already.

You speed up your hand. This combined with you sucking him works him up faster than expected, his moans growing louder and louder until you notice he's trying really hard to hold back from thrusting into your mouth again. Instead, he grips the back of your head to have something he can hang onto. His head falls back, his eyes closed. It doesn't take much longer before you can feel his thighs tense beside you and suddenly he's filling your mouth with your cum. Diligent as ever, you swallow everything he gives you.

When you think he's done, you pull his cock out of your mouth. But it turns out he still had some cum left and he shoots one more rope of cum onto your face.

His dick softens in your grip, but that's only until he tilts his head forward again and catches a glance of your face- like magic, his dick is hard and throbbing again, the sight of your cum-covered face working wonders for him.

He pulls you up towards him, swiping his cum off your face with his thumb before forcing it in your mouth. You eagerly lick his thumb clean of his cum, playfully nibbling on it lightly. Lighter lets out a moan, pulls his thumb out of your mouth and smashes his lips against yours again.

While he's busying himself with your lips, you carefully adjust your position so he's laying down while you're on top of him. Since both of you are still hard, you figure he might want to go again- and you definitely aren't wrong.

So you line up your cock with his and grind into him. He moans into your mouth at the unexoected pleasure. You start out gentle with your grinding, making sure to use the leftover cum on both of your dicks as lubricant.

Meanwhile, you sneak a hand up to his chest, grasping one of his tits and kneading it. He gasps out at your actions, already overwhelmed by the pleasure. It only gets worse when you busy yourself with his nipples, giving them the occasional flick.

At this point both of your dicks are sufficiently lubricated, so you remove your hand from his chest after cupping his tit one last time and move it down to embrace your dicks together. You form a sort of hole around them, keeping them touching each other constantly. Then you start thrusting into the hole, all while rubbing up against Lighter's dick.

Both of you moan out in pleasure. You originally meant to start slowly and speed up over time, but when you look down at Lighter's expression, you just can't help yourself anymore. Seeing his eyes half-lidded and his tongue hanging out just the tiniest bit makes something within you snap, urging your hips to thrust faster and harder.

Lighter notices this, his eyes widening. However he actually enjoys you going rougher on him, so he lifts his arms and embraces you, pulling you closer to him. You oblige, touching his chest with yours.

"Yes, that's good, ah, keep going, hmpf!"

Feeling his warmth makes the knot in your stomach build up faster and faster. You groan into his shoulder, biting into it to let out your emotions somehow. He calls your name at that. It's obvious he's getting close as well, since his hips have also started thrusting against yours, not to mention his moans.

Retracting yourself from his neck, you instead plunge towards his lips again. Sliding your tongues against each other, the feeling builds up more and more until you come with a squeal, spilling ropes of hot, sticky cum against your stomachs, with Lighter following suit.

Once both of you have spilled every last drop, only your panting can be heard in the room. For a moment you gaze into each other's eyes. You were scared that Lighter would be disgusted by you now that he's used you to get off. But it's quite the contrary. His eyes shine with nothing but his love for you, it almost takes your breath away.

You let out a laugh and collapse on top of him. Cleaning up can wait until later, you decide, sneaking your arms under his torso in a somewhat awkward hug.

He chuckles as well, wrapping his arms around you. Gently, he kisses the side of your head. You think you hear him whisper an "I love you", but your exhaustion catches up with you before you can think about it any further and you fall into a deep slumber.

#lighter zzz x reader #lighter lorenz x reader #lighter zzz smut #lighter smut #lighter x reader #lighter lorenz smut #sub lighter #sub lighter zzz #sub lighter lorenz #well tbh not too much of a sub but more on the sub side #zzz smut

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sleepybugeyes · 6 months ago

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I read through all of Elias/Jonah's dialogue (as you do) plus some relistening and mentions of him, so here's a big list of some fun things and behaviors I noted!

I thought he made a lot of eye puns/jokes, but he only does it once in mag161, however he does enjoy making jokes. "Creativity never was their forte." from mag80, "You want my account? My sworn testimony? My statement?" from 82, "If you die, I’m afraid you probably won’t be able to claim your expenses." in 116 and "I only have two eyes, after all." in 120. no one ever laughs at his jokes only he finds them amusing

His last words telling Jon a sarcastic or mocking "good luck" are mirrored earlier as he also tells Basira good luck the last time he sees her, and Martin, as he's getting arrested

He loves gloating. "I forget how new you all are to this." from mag92, "Coffee is not as good for disguising tastes as you might think." in 98, "She’s hoping that even if I see it coming she’ll still be able to overpower me. She’s wrong, of course," in 102, "A masterpiece, isn’t it?" abt his panopticon in 158 and of course his whole monologue in 160

He does his budgeting on tuesdays and his scheduling on wednesdays

He also likes getting lost in work

in mag40 he makes up proper incompetency (said he didnt know how the fire system works, while he later admits he was actively waiting) just that once, but more so he acts like he doesnt get the full picture (doesnt know whats in the tunnels, whats strange about the institute) or acts too late and apologises (not stepping into jon's stalking behaviour). Which makes me think he is quite fine letting people think less of him but unless he has something to hide hes not actively looking to give the impression

in mag92 elias slides the papers for basira across his desk, but you don't hear him take them out before, meaning he prepared and got ready for this before he called the police

in general he's a very preparing man, Lukas steps in when Elias is arrested so has has control over who'd run it. in mag118 he says he prepared something to hurt martin (my speculation is that he likely has some trauma that could hurt you prepared for any person that could cross him, just in case he needs it). When he gets arrested he has something prepared so he doesnt get killed and ofc s1-4 is preparing Jon for his grand ritual

Elias admits the idea for his ritual kinda fell into place after Getrude didnt do anything about the people's church in march 2015. He shot Getrude and appointed Jon shortly after so "when you came to me already marked by the Web, I knew it had to be you." is pure dramatics as Jon was hired 4 years prior

also he got his ritual in 2018 so he managed to acomplish his life's goal in only 3 years, love his grindset 🔥

We never get a number for how many people Elias has killed in his ritual, the real life millbank has held over 1000 people at once, but id imagine his one panopticon held less than a whole complex

its really interesting to me in mag92 that hes SO sure they all know he's talking to them of his own free will. is he just that dead set on being in control or making sure they take no credit for his confession

there is a clock in Elias' office (but it's only heard in mag98)

He has killed people but Elias is very much not a blood thirsty person. Getrude and Peter are both surprised when he results to that. He's very much just ruthless and does not care, if to get his way he has to kill someone. It doesnt seem like he's ever happy to do so, maybe this is a quirk of being eye aligned and getting rid of any type of knowledge is painful (he does for example never want Tim to die at the Unknowing), or he just finds covering those murders up a hassle

for the Unknowing Elias books them all hotel rooms, how thoughtful

something cute to me that Jon was too good at the Eye that Elias couldnt meet him face to face post coma

In mag158 he implies that even Institute employees not in the archives are tied to it, at least enough that they could suffer or die if it burned down

between finding other people just as tools to watch and discard and saying empathy holds you back he was definitely a very very lonely man

He is a very breathy person. He sounds breathy when he talks. He takes deep breaths to ready himself and before he uses his powers. And he often breathes through his nose before speaking or during pauses

He has said Jon's name 62 times, only twice calling him "Jonathan" and called him archivist 25 times (24 in the mag120 statement, 1 in mag138 and 1 in mag161)(he also kinda calls him The Archive in 160)

other fun amount of words: know (65 times), see (42), martin (35), detective (20), eyes (20) and eye (9), afraid (9) and "bullshit" (1)

its still insane to me they added all of those sound effects of Elias' cuffs in prison, thats something fun to appreciate. It also means its canon he gestures quite a bit!

#elias bouchard #jonah magnus #meant to read through ALL MENTIONS of him too but i dont got the time rn #i have to share this.. i shall add if i find/remember more fun things about him

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judeswhore · 1 year ago

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fluff alphabet; jude bellingham

summary: fluff alphabet

pairing: jude bellingham x fem!reader

notes: you can find my masterlist here. u ask, i deliver🤭u can find the smutty version of this here

A = Affection (how affectionate are they? how do they show affection?)

so so so affectionate it’s sickening to other people but it’s ur favourite thing abt him. he loves hugs and kisses and holding hands and just touching u in general. will randomly come up to u in the house or while ur out w family/friends and wrap u up in the tightest bear hug for no reason other than he wants to love on u. you’ll be talking or just minding ur own business and suddenly he’s smothering ur face in kisses, gripping ur cheeks and just attacking u with his lips and his excuse will just be “cant help it, just so pretty baby”. and saying that he’s so affectionate w his words too. always telling u how gorgeous u are, how nice u look today in those clothes or just randomly compliments u when ur laying abt in the house bc he just needs u to know and never wants u to forget

B = Baby (do they want children?)

so so badly. he has baby fever more than u probably. he always sees his older teammates w their children and it sends him into a spiral bc even tho ur both pretty young he cant wait to start ur own family. he can never concentrate seeing u with children bc it’ll send his mind into overdrive and he’s always telling u how excited he is to finally have kids. probably has a lot planned out already such as how he’d wna decorate their rooms and his favourite names and the two of u probably talk abt it a lot. especially at night when it’s dark and it feels safe to whisper abt ur future together. just snuggling into him and whispering abt which names u like the most and whether they’ll be more like u or more like him and if u should paint their room blue or pink or yellow. i think his favourite thing to do wld be to plan a future that involves kids

C = Cuddles (do they like to cuddle? how would they cuddle?)

he loves cuddles!!! more than anything bc he’s such a big softie and just likes holding u/likes to be held. loves a tight bear hug!! just wraps u up completely in his arms and squeezes, rocks u a little and it’s so comforting to both of u. loves to cuddle in bed too even when ur not sleeping. he’s watching tv and ur reading but he’s on top of u, head on ur stomach while he’s got his arms wrapped around u

D = Dates (do they prefer flashy or casual dates?)

bit of both and it depends on the mood. he adores showing u off and spoiling u rotten so he’ll book expensive restaurants and buy expensive wine and food bc u deserve the best of everything. but bc of his fame sometimes he wants u to himself where u can’t be interrupted or bombarded by fans. so he youse will have a casual cinema date tucked away in the back of the theatre and then eating fast food in ur car parked up in the car park. or just date night at home, just the two of u. cooking dinner or ordering take away, watching movies and smuggling, just super quiet and low key

E = Emotions (are they an emotional person? are they good at expressing themselves?)

we can all agree he’s pretty emotionally mature and he wld be in ur relationship. if something was upsetting him or he wasn’t happy w something he’d tell u bc he’s been taught that talking is always the best way to solve things. he is pretty emotional but he’s not one to hide it, he’ll tell u when he’s sad or when he’s happy and he worn try and hide any of his feelings from u bc he wants u both to be open abt that stuff and there for each other. sometimes he’ll turn to the silent treatment but it wldnt last very long mainly bc he cant cope not talking to u but also bc he realises that it’s stupid and he misses u. he can be very stubborn at times tho so even tho most of the times he’s great at communicating his emotions the odd time his age will really show and his stubborn side will come out. that’s usually what leads to the silent treatment but again it never lasts that long especially when he sees u looking all snug in his hoodie on the bed and he just need to cuddle u. he’d mutter a little apology w kisses and you’d talk it out

F = Feelings (who caught feelings first?)

HIM. he knew u was in deep the second he met u, stumbling over his words and getting all embarrassed, trying to be funny and failing bc he was so nervous. but after a few dates he’d know for certain how much he liked u. making him work for it a little bit and refusing to date him for a while and that just makes him fall for u more but from the get go he likes u so so bad. always flirting, always complimenting u, talking abt u none stop to his family and his friends. he’d talk abt u so much to his mam that she’d know u so well before the two of u even met. him being the one to catch feelings first he’d also be the one to initiate ur first kiss bc he just can’t wait any longer and then after he’d be a giddy little mess and wld have to kiss u again. and again. and again. until ur both giggling and u have to hold him at arms length

G = Gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

he’s a baby and a gentle soul in person no matter how angry he gets on the pitch. he’s always so soft and careful with u (unless u ask him not to be) bc he’s aware of how much bigger and stronger he is and he doesn’t wna hurt u. always holds u carefully and kisses u softly until ur demanding more and then ofc he’s complying but if it’s not one of those situations he’s always so gentle with u. he’s always reminding u he loves u too at any given moment, even if ur in the middle of an argument and he can’t leave without making sure he says it

H = Honesty (do they share everything with you?)

yes. ur the first to know anything abt anything bc ur the first person he thinks to call or text or go home to. no matter what it is he tells u, whether it be gossip from the team or his friends or news abt his career he tells u it all. even bad stuff, he shares all of it with u bc he knows you’ll sit and listen and will offer advice if he needs it

I = I love you (who said “i love you” first?)

so even tho he caught real feelings first u were the one to say “i love u” first. saying it after one of this big matches and ur just so so proud of him and the second he’s in front of u u dive at him, wrapping urself completely around him and going on abt how proud u are and then slipping in that little phrase and jude wld think he’d misheard at first. he’d pull away and set u back on ur feet and ask u to say it again and ur smiling so bright at him, taking his cheeks and kissing him so softly while repeating it and he’s just so overwhelmed bc maybe he’s been wanting to say it for a while but he’s been a little scared but now he’s not holding back. smothering ur face in kisses and in between them he’s saying he loves u. just so sweet and cute and neither of u are focused on people around u

J = Jealousy (how jealous do they get? what do they do when they're jealous?)

i feel like he’s very confident in ur relationship and how much u love him so he usually doesn’t get jealous bc he knows if anyone’s coming on to u ur not interested and wld brush them off immediately. but sometimes he can’t help himself, usually if it’s his friends or teammates that have a thing for u bc to him that’s crossing a line. he doesn’t really do anything too drastic, usually just a “subtle” reminder that ur his. will usually wrap an arm around ur shoulder or waist or pull u in for a quick kiss, just something to say “yeah she’s mine u can stop looking now”. it sometimes makes him a little pouty but ur always quick to kiss that away and send him a smile and a reminder that u love him

K = Kisses (where do they like to kiss their partner? where do they like to be kissed?)

loves loves loves giving forehead kisses!!! will just cup the back of ur neck and then dip his head to press his lips to ur forehead. sometimes he’ll linger for a little while and you’ll feel him smile and it’s honestly the cutest thing. does it all the time. to say hello, to say goodbye, to say he loves u, just bc, while he’s laughing over something you’ve said, to placate ur jealousy, as a way of making u feel better if u sad, literally will kiss ur forehead all the time and for so many reasons :(

he likes when u kiss his jaw bc it makes him all fuzzy inside and u often do it before kissing him properly so it’s like a build up. just slowly kissing his jaw until he’s all impatient and then finally slotting ur lips over his and he’ll give this quiet little hum of happiness every single time. also likes when u kiss his thighs, not even in a sexual way (although he does love that). just laying w ur head on his thigh while watching tv or scrolling on ur phone and then you’ll just turn ur head and pepper his thighs in kisses just showing them so much love and he always gets a stupid grin on his face bc he thinks it’s adorable

L = Little ones (how are they around children?)

oh he’s an absolute angel we all know this. is so happy to be around children no matter what, will talk to them, play w them, teach them little football tricks if they ask like he’s just the sweetest and u adore it. if u have little neices/nephews or siblings he’d love being around them, like wld wna babysit all the time and wld have the best time and they’d love him. the way he is w children always makes u broody and he always teases u abt it and jokes that all the babysitting now is to prepare u for future little bellingham’s

M = Morning (how are mornings spent with them?)

some mornings he has to leave before u and if that’s the case he’ll be so so quiet while getting ready and then wld leave with a little kiss on ur head and wld text u immediately after leaving the house to say he’s left and good morning and he loves u :( but if ur able to spend a morning together it’s usually relatively slow. neither of u are morning people so it’s usually quiet, sharing soft kisses and muttered “good mornings” while still tangled in the sheets bc u always take forever to finally get up. when u do u brush ur teeth and everything in silence, jude occasionally squeezing ur hip or nudging u softly in a little loving way. making breakfast together and he’s behind u, arms around ur waist to cuddle into u while u talk quietly abt what ur gna do that day. it generally is just slow and loving and quiet but that’s how u like it

N = Nights (how are nights spent with them?)

SNUGGLES!!!!! nighttime routine together first tho, whether that be showering together or wtv and then doing ur skincare (forcing him to do the same as u bc u wna keep his skin beautiful) before getting ready for bed. he always always puts ur pjs in the dryer while ur doing ur skincare bc he knows u like them to be warm. either snuggling on the sofa w blankets or in bed to catch up on a show ur watching together and he’s got u tucked up against his side, head on his chest and he’s stroking ur arm and ur head and soothing u to sleep. it’s always so slow and soft bc usually u don’t get a lot of time together during the day so nighttime is for the two of u just to relax and bask in each other’s company

O = Open (when would they start revealing things about themselves?)

i feel like it’d take a bit of time at first, not like loads but he’d definitely be a little hesitant at first revealing certain things bc he’s still so unsure if he can trust girls given his fame :( but from the very start you’d make it clear u aren’t interested in any of that and it wldnt take him long to realise and he’d trust u a lot more than he does a lot of people even early on. he’d like u so much from the very first meeting so as soon as he’d figured out he could really trust u he’d have no problems spilling things abt himself, even the most embarrassing of his secrets

P = Parents (do their parents like you?)

oh god yes. like more than they like him and jobe. u and his mam are practically best friends and u always do things w her without jude. always shopping and going out for meals or going to spas and she’s always calling and texting to see if ur okay and jude’s always like??? “hello i’m here too” and she’d just brush him off bc ofc he is but she needs to know how ur feeling today. being just as close to his dad and u and him always bullying jude bc he’s always showing u old baby pics that u can use against ur boyfriend

Q = Quizzes (how much would they remember about their partner?)

every. single. thing. from the very first time u spoke to each other bc he’s been down bad ever since. like remembers things u told him on ur first date and ur like??? how is that even possible. always remembers if u say u like something, even in passing, and then wld get that thing for u and wld act so casual abt it but it means the absolute world to u. being at dinner w friends and they’re offering drinks/food and before u even know what’s going on he’s all “no she doesn’t like that, she’ll have ___ tho” and it’s the exact thing u wld’ve chosen and it makes u all giddy inside how well he knows u

R = Remember (what is their favourite moment in your relationship?)

the first time u went to one of his matches. he remembers being so nervous at first to have u there, tucked in w his family, bc he wanted to impress u and wanted u to see how good he was (as if u didn’t already know🙄). but the second he spotted u he was so giddy, grinning so bright and just wanting to kiss u silly bc u looked so pretty in his shirt. you’d told him that morning that u knew he was gna score bc u could feel it, joking u were a good luck charm and he did score dedicating the goal to u and feeling so happy abt how shy u looked when he pointed ur way. after the match he’d gone and pulled u into a hug and kissed u like he’d been wanting to all match and he’ll never forget ur smile and all the praise u threw his way. u did that after every match following, no matter the outcome, always telling him how proud u are but nothing wld beat that first time

S = Sad (how do they like to be comforted?)

loves back and head scratches :)) if he’s feeling down he doesn’t even really need to tell u bc u can just tell, letting him know he can talk when he’s ready while coaxing him into bed or onto the sofa. he likes when u let him lay on top of u, face tucked away in ur neck ur while u gently graze ur nails over his back and shoulders or over his head :( like i said early he’s good at talking abt his feelings so after a while he’ll eventually tell u what’s wrong bc he knows how good u are at giving him advice or just cheering him up a little bit he won’t move from that position even while ur talking so you’ll spend a good chunk of time just slowly rubbing over his skin until he’s ready to move

T = Try (how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

he deserves a medal for how much effort he puts into the relationship. even tho he’s a busy boy he still makes sure he’s treating u right. dates are always planned to perfection no matter what they are. he always goes all out on anniversaries and bdays, books time away to ur favourite places as a surprise and buys u the sweetest gifts, often new pieces of jewellery bc he just likes spoiling u. even just day to day he’s so attentive and sweet. leaves little notes on the mirror or fridge if he leaves for training before ur awake, gets ur coffee and breakfast ready so u don’t have to rush when u do wake up. will sometimes bring home ur favourite snacks or something if he’s passed a shop bc he knows the thought alone will make u smile

U = Ugly (what would be some bad habits of theirs?)

he’s a boy and is sooooo messy and doesn’t clean up after himself. definitely leads to arguments when he leaves dishes out or leaves his clothes all over the floor. but then he’ll just flash u that charming smile and give u a kiss and a sickly sweet apology

V = Value (how valuable is your relationship to them? is it a top priority?)

absolutely it’s a top priority. he knows he’s busy and his career means ur apart a lot and he knows that can be difficult but he never lets u think he’s putting that before u. he puts so much effort into making sure u know he loves and appreciates u even if u haven’t seen each other in a while and he’s always inviting u to events and matches so he can keep up w his career and while not neglecting u or ur relationship. if you’ve been apart for a while bc of matches he’ll make sure that as soon as he’s free again u have all his time even if that’s just spending the day at home together

W = Wedding (do they see themselves marrying you?)

yes 100%. he thinks abt it all the time. probably more than u (he’s a massive romantic okay idc). he’s definitely talked to urs and his parents abt it, urs more so in passing as tho looking for approval (which he was given immediately) but w his mam especially he’s talked abt it a lot. he’s looked at rings online a couple of times trying to find which ones he thinks u wld like the most and you’d already told him ur dream destination and he’s looked into it. he’s more than ready for when the time actually comes and ur both ready for the next step. BUT i feel like he’d wna have kids first bc he wants to see them as little flower girls/page boys like nothing wld make him happier than marrying u and having ur children there to see

X = Xylophone (what’s your song?)

mardy bum by arctic monkeys. jude’s always teasing u abt how moody u are sometimes (especially on ur period) and whenever u get in a real mood w him he’d gotten into the habit of playing that song or singing it to u and most of the time it’ll make u laugh, usually bc his singing is so awful. he likes singing it really loud with u in the kitchen even when ur not in a mood, spinning u and dipping u until ur both giggling and almost falling over. mardy bum is also one of his nicknames for u bc of ur love for the song

Y = Yearning (how do they act when they miss you?)

calls and texts u constantly. i’m talking bombards ur phone until u answer and it’ll be w the most pointless messages but u adore it bc u love knowing he’s thinking abt u. he’ll send u updates on what he’s doing, what he’s eaten, pics of things that remind him of u, memes, tiktoks, random “i love u. i miss u” texts. also always asks if u can fall asleep on facetime together sometimes bc he doesn’t wna stop talking to u :( like he really is a big softie. definitely sends u lots of flowers when ur apart w cute little notes attached like “these r pretty and they reminded me of u” he turns into the biggest mush when he misses u

Z = ZZZ (how do they like to sleep)

loves spooning!!!! either big or little he doesn’t care. prefers little spoon after a bad match/bad day bc he likes u to hold him and he always feels safe and loved like that :( but also loves to be big spoon so he can just wrap himself around u and hold u tight, always gives u little shoulder kisses like this while he tells u goodnight. moves abt a lot in his sleep tho so youse never wake up like that the next morning. but he also likes falling asleep w his head on ur chest!! locks his leg around urs and snuggles against ur boobs and asks u to stroke his back or scratch his head and he’ll fall asleep almost immediately bc ur so comforting and cosy to him

#jude bellingham #hey jude :)#jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham one shot #jude bellingham fic #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham smut #jude bellingham fluff

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bonefall · 1 month ago

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Wow you posted this right as I was reading all abt dishonor titles

Anyway gonna ask now else I will forget again, if you wanted the cats to have like notebooks/sketchbooks,what's the closest thing to use because idk if you think the kitty cats invented ways to make paper

In BB, the cats haven't advanced quite enough to be creating books, but they actually create parchment!

Parchment is essentially super fine, light leather. There's also vellum, made of calf skin, and slunk, made of fetal skin, which are even finer and higher quality.

(I wish I could say which of these that mouse skins would result in, but I have yet to find any record of people even trying to make it out of mouse pelts. So I'm just calling it parchment, until someone, someday, somehow, can confirm if mouse skin is as fine as vellum or slunk.)

As a carnivorous society, they have a LOT of small animal carcasses, and the Kitchen Patrol's job is to make sure every bit of prey is processed... so, every animal is skinned, even if it's just for practice. Hence the abundance of leather.

Interestingly, Clan cats don't really have a "purpose" for parchment. It's just something they make out of prey that was skinned improperly, or which has a skin that's too damaged to make a good pelt. Scraps that would have gone to waste anyway.

Making parchment is especially popular in ShadowClan as a sort of "arts and crafts" thing for kits and apprentices. It requires a chemical bath made out of fermented scraps to soak the skins for a while, so it's essentially a way to introduce children to the ShadowClan Art of never wasting anything.

The Clans will eventually be creating some basic "art" in the near future, and might have a few permanent drawings in personal collections right now, but currently parchment is considered a "plaything." Mostly just used to make crafts, or fold up herbs, or draw on, etc.

(Clan version of kids making slime for funsies)

So if you want to zip ahead and make sketchbooks, make them out of parchment! Another good thing about it is that it can be washed and re-used-- so once your Warrior owns one, there's no stress about constantly making new pages.

(Funfact: you know how some books have straps or weights as decorations? That's a leftover from parchment binding. Parchment "breathes," reacting to moisture, so those decorations were initially made to keep the book pressed flat. They were kept in the switch to paper simply because they look cool.)

#better bones au #clan culture #Parchment

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itsajollyjester · 1 year ago

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yessss that defo answers my questions! ur thoughts on compassion & community intertwined w rebellion definitely show up in ur art lol. something more specific i have been curious abt is ur version of the endings of each specific hunger games & ur characterization/portrayal of the victors at those points! if u have any more thoughts abt any of those characters or their games id love to hear.... im also very not neurotypical abt hunger games

For sure!! But this is a novel and a half so I apologize in advance (also most of this is from memory so anyone can correct me if I'm getting any details wrong)

((TW: For visual depictions of Blood, Gore, and Wounds))

I realized I'd seen barely any art showing what the victors would have looked like when they won their games. They were all just kids and I feel like it can be easy to forget that sometimes

For all of them, I made the background one of their main "weapons" but tried to make it look like its turning back on them instead since there are no victors as Haymitch said.

I'll try to explain them all more in depth individually going in the order I drew them:

Finnick Odair, 65th Games:

His main weapons were his trident and nets that he made with vines. His background is one of the nets ready to trap him.

Finnick was the youngest victor ever at only 14. I really really wanted to emphasize just how little that is. (Especially since we know exactly why the Capitol loved him from the start…) Once I actually drew him looking that little I had to step away for a bit because I made myself too sad…

Outside of just how horrific his age is as a concept, I tried to think about what circumstances would lead to him actually winning when surrounded by older tributes. I think he would have had to avoid any kind of fight he didn't have the upper hand in. We know that he got the most expensive sponsor gifts in the history of the games (a trident), so he probably got plenty of sponsors outside of that as well. Because of that I doubt he needed to go looking for supplies much if ever so it was easy to avoid people there. He was also probably in a career pack, despite his age, due to his training and his popularity, and they would have hunted other tributes down together much like the one we saw in the first book (safer in numbers). Once it was narrowing down and the pack broke is when I think he started catching people in nets. All of that is a long winded way of saying that's why, unlike the other victors I drew, I only show him with minor cuts and bruises.

Originally I was going to draw him with a kind of strained smile like he was acting for an audience from the start. But I decided I actually think its sadder if he believed he was popular because of his skill and strategy as a fighter and only learned the whole truth after he won and that's when he started acting more for the camera. Instead I gave him a more muted despair kind of look, like his world is crashing down. One of my favorite parts about the movies, mainly THG and ABOSAS, is when they give the career tributes at the end a moment of realization about what they've done, and I wanted to give Finnick his. I'm a person that believes Finnick had to have volunteered for his games. I think he would have legitimately believed in the propaganda the career districts were fed and had a bit of a (very middle school boy) ego about his abilities. (I was NOT expecting to write so much about his lmao)

Enobaria, 62nd Games

She's most well known for ripping someones throat out with her teeth. (Her background is her sharpened teeth getting ready to eat her.) This is treated by The Capitol, and by Katniss, as grotesque and terrifying blood lust (Which obviously the Capitol loves her for). However, and I'm not at all the first to say it, that sounds more like a terrified and desperate attempt to survive a fight she was losing and an example of hysterical strength. We know that Career packs have had bloody betrayals in the past and I can see Enobaria being a part of one of them. Enobaria doesn't have a canonical age, but I decided to put her on the younger side (15 or 16.) I can imagine some of the older, bigger tributes deciding she was the weakest link towards the end and that was the result. I tried to make the blood around her mouth and down her shirt look more faded, like she tried desperately to wipe it off (Also I had to step away from drawing again after I drew her little tooth gap)

I think she probably leaned into the bloodthirsty image afterwards as a way to protect herself and (maybe even started to believe it too)

Annie Cresta, 70th Games

Annie's known for losing her mind after seeing her district partner decapitated in front of her. After that, she ran off and hid until the game makers started an earth quake, which made the large dam in the arena break and cause a huge flood. Annie was the only survivor because she was the strongest swimmer. So I decided to make her background dark water that's churning up and over her head. I also think it can work well as a way to show her mental state in the moment (and afterwards) Annie is actually one of my favorite characters in the series and I've been writing out a plan for a possible comic series about her that'll go more in depth about my headcanons for her. (when I say comic series, I mean sketches and oneshots, not a full thing lmao) It wouldn't take place during her games (outside of a few flashbacks when I need more context), instead it would start at her Victory Tour and go into her first (and last) year as a mentor for the 71st Games. Which is a perfect segue to-

Johanna Mason, 71st Games

Johanna is actually first mentioned early on in the first book when Katniss is wondering if the reason Peeta is crying is because he plans to act weak and helpless as a strategy in the games. (Katniss, he just found out he has to fight in a murder tournament with his crush. He's just Sad.) She bases her theory on Johanna, who pretended she was a "sniveling, cowardly fool" in the arena until the final stretch of the games when she proved to be deadly with an axe.

OR….. Katniss is an unreliable narrator and Johanna was actually a terrified kid from a district with so few victors that she was the only name in the bowl for the Quarter Quell… This is totally just a personal headcanon of mine tho lol. I think there would have been a point in her games where she realized she actually had a chance and that's when she seemingly had a huge character turn around. Maybe there was a infighting with the careers that ended in multiple deaths and there was only a few left along with any other tributes hiding away like her. Maybe she poked around what was left of their camp, found the axe, and felt strength from her district.

Her background was a little harder for me. Just slapping a big axe behind her felt cheesy. But them I remembered her saying there was no one left that she loved. So instead I put trees that could represent her loved ones (Two fully grown trees, a younger "teenage" tree, and a sapling) that are in the process of being cut down.

Haymitch Abernathy, 50th Games

Don't worry, I'm almost done. I don't have as much to say about Haymitch since we know SO much about what happened in his games. But his background was probably the hardest for me. His main weapon was invisible after all. I thought maybe the axe that was used, but again, That would look cheesy. I tried (and kinda failed imo) to draw the cliff side the force field was on instead. But the main thing I did was split the three panels I had on the previous drawings into six for two reasons. 1: Because he had to face twice as many tributes in order to win and 2: Being the only victor of a district that's tributes are seen as fodder for the blood bath means he had to meet and watch the death of twice as many kids every year.

#tw blo0d #tw g0re #tw wounds #the hunger games #catching fire #mockingjay #hunger games fanart #hunger games headcanon #thg series #ask #finnick odair #enobaria #annie cresta #johanna mason #haymitch abernathy #jolly art #long post

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throwaway-yandere · 1 year ago

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𝑫𝒐𝒍𝒄𝒆 𝑺𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝑵𝒖𝒐𝒗𝒐 (Yandere!Dainsleif/Reader)

a/n: I love Dainsleif with every fiber of my being, do you guys know that? Anyways, just like all Dain-fics, this one has illustrations (I hope they give Fairytale book vibes). I’d like to thank @meimeimeirin cuz this was an idea we were laughing abt at 4am and somehow I made something out of it HAHA.

Unreliable Synopsis: “Fairytale worlds follow fairytale laws. There’s always a protagonist burdened with impossible tasks who will experience the rule of three, witness transformations, find talking animals, and learn the power of kept promises. So, before you embark on your journey, "princess" (Y/n), have you heard of the Ugly Duckling’s tale?”

CW: light yandere themes, fairytale!au just for the hell of it. HURT/NO COMFORT. Late/Advanced happy birthday, Dainsleif.

"The destined knight is late," the great dragon clicked his tongue. One would expect that an inferior creature such as an ugly duckling would quake and shrink while perched on the Dragon King's hand. But their expression was nothing short of serene. There is a veneer of calm that the great Dragon Ongri did not overlook.

The "duckling" had the eyes of an old gentleman with worldly disinterests.

He was longing for death.

𝕺nce upon a time, there was an ugly duckling who was abandoned by both their siblings and mother. Oftentimes, he was pecked by his peers, sneered into thinking his big head and scarred face. were both a reason for his survival and misery all the same. The ugly duckling thought himself unloveable no matter where he went. The small waters he was born in had no room for miscreation, and when he traveled to an elderly's house elsewhere, the chickens thought him useless and undesirable. Normally, the story would've been a happier bedtime story if he had gone to meet the Royal birds and begged for them to end his life. Maybe then, he would've realized that he had not been a duck but a swan all along. But alas, our poor ugly "duckling" found his feet at the hands of the great Dragon King- Ongri's mercy.

"Will you kill me?" The ugly duckling asked calmly. "You need to release your anger, and I can be but one of many casualties."

"I am not a creature of impulse."

The divine dragon scowled. "After Bars' and Fein' deaths, the concept that this realm dubs as Time and Moments is now under my jurisdiction. I've no use for wasted breaths."

As it happens, the dragon was in a troubling situation. There is an immediate need for a substitute. Sensing the urgency of fate's call, Ongri unleashed an ancient incantation. Feathers singed into flesh, wings clipped into arms, and in a burst of radiant light, the "ugly duckling" was reborn as a human knight. His body had scar-like spots from the Divine Dragon infusing him with magic, albeit the metamorphosis was far from flawless. Even as a human, he was imperfect. Mysterious dark blue "burn lines" traced his neck and arms. With the new human's eyes still closed, the dragon spoke to him, the last for a long time: "Forget your past and this whole affair." He commanded. "Go, find and protect your princess."

It mattered not if this was the last breath Ongri would tell him, besides…

When a god applies a curse, it takes effect at a higher level of reality than the person themselves.

“(Y/n)…”

“It’s me, Dainsleif… Can you… still remember my voice?”

“…”

“I… understand that once a person reaches this stage of the curse, their senses get muted. The remnants of those who once dwelled here must have been the catalyst of your ailments worsening..”

“… I’m sorry. I am incredibly sorry that I found you at such a later time. It did not occur to me that you would be here in the Chasm.”

“In our next fairy tale, I’ll—”

“No… I cannot subject you to any more empty promises… But know this:”

“I will keep you safe from now on.”

“So, do not leave my side ever again.”

And the new knight opened his eyes.

Memories of the dragon vanished from his mind. He was now a being of larger flesh and bones without recollections of his past. Should another human take his shoes, they would know that it was a fresh awakening. His first breath tasted like rich champagnes. Golden. Even the sun shone in such resplendent light that made the world seemingly revolve around him.

His legs wobbled. Sliding onto the grassy area, he caught a sight of his hair. Blonde. Like hay— they were golden threads silkily strewn about. He soon noticed that the rest of his complexion was a light pinkish-hued color, as did the hands that prevented his head from taking a serious fall.

The reborn “ugly duckling” may have forgotten why, but he felt alienated from his own body. And he has the Divine Dragon to thank for his new vessel and plain armor.

“Help! Someone, HELP!!!”

His ears perked up. It was a scream with a fervor of a “damsel in distress”. Vent clamor as she may with her whole throat, nothing would come out of it.

But fate will not allow this untimely demise. Quick on his new feet, the new knight dashed towards the sound. No cavalry— just a single determined mind. After running for some time, the unnamed knight did not come across any souls.

That is, until he found the young maiden he was “fated” to save. She was on the ground, clinging into her wrist as though she burned her hand. In the ground laid an iron sword, begging to be drawn.

At the sight of the wild animal bearing down on her with frightening speed, the “knight” took her weapon and charged towards the scene, raising it in front of the menacing beast. He gazed at the bear that towered over him, displaying its slobbery maw and long, pointed claws. The untamed creature snarled and dropped to strike.

Perhaps the Divine Dragon saw his noble pursuits, perhaps he was naturally gifted in combat, but the bear was unable to rake the man’s body. Miraculous it was that not a single nasty laceration was left on his person. He lacked the strength to take it down in one fell swoop, but the speed he had made up for it. Like swans that swerved through the wind and flow of water, he dodged all its attacks. With a few strikes from his blade, the bear falls...

He breathed out, shaking in his boots though he tried not to show it. Straightening his body, he met the maiden’s gaze. His blue eyes met hers in a piercing gaze, nearly taunting her as his new opponent. The young lady exhaled a deep sigh of relief.

“T-Thank… you…”

Subconsciously, he circled the shoulder that recklessly swung the sword around. The new “knight” tilted his head. For what? He wished to ask, but words did not come out.

“For saving me, of course.”

The maiden gracefully stood. Her garments had lost some of their value due to the soil and dirt, but she herself was not affected in the same way. She exuded a fierceness that suggested anyone who ventured to hurt her would be receiving more than they bargained for. Instead of tucking her hair to the back, she pulled them forward, hiding her ears.

“Do allow me to introduce myself, kind knight.” She cleared her throat softly. “You may call me Princess (F/n), daughter of King Regan and current crown princess— heir to the throne upon the late Prince Pierre’s demise. May I know your name?”

…

… Silence…

The princess tilted her head.

"... Does my savior have a name?"

"... Name?"

The young man paused.

He couldn't remember his name. In actuality, he had absolutely no memory of anything. His mind was a bottomless pit with little to no air. With wide eyes, his hand moved slowly to around his neck. The act of conjuring up his supposed name left him terrified for reasons unbeknownst to him.

Does he… not have a name?

“... You must be joking.” The princess deadpanned. “How can one not have a name? Were you not baptized under the Divine Dragon’s light?”

She sounded incredibly upset by this fact. Whatever she ranted on about, it must be a human tradition.

“Do you not know how important names are—” The princess sighed, “Never mind. I shall assume you are one of those orphaned folks. Besides, if what you say is true, bestowing you a new name is a power much more potent.”

“I… want a name.” The man spoke up rather shyly, voice almost inaudbile.

"I know, I know… Huh, I usually take names rather than gifting them," the princess chuckled. She seemed wholly aware of his dilemma. "Hmm… Let me see…"

She examined his features closely. He was dressed in the traditional knightly fashion, albeit slightly altered. The holy kingdom's knights, of course, never donned masks—especially not half of one. He was strange, but there was an innocent genuineness about him. The blonde man doesn't have a polished appearance. He looked like a lost duckling.

It was rude to stare at the peculiar blue wounds on his face far too long so the princess’ eyes trailed above his hair.

"Leaf…" She pointed upward. "Leaf."

The knight blinked.

What a peculiar sounding name.

"Understood." He nodded and bowed politely. "I shall now be referred to as Leaf."

"No, I meant—" The princess cut herself off and chuckled. "Oh, well. I meant the leaf on one's head. But certainly the name Leaf does suit you fine."

“Do place your iron sword away, Leaf.” She added, cringing. “It is unbecoming of a knight to point a sword to their princess.”

“May… May I ask as to why you were attacked by a bear?”

“Quite bold of you to inquire a royal about a recent assassination attempt,” she humored him with a smile. He safely assumed she would not enact punishment for his assertiveness. “If you must satiate your curiosity, it is exactly that. An assassination attempt. They believed since my brother had fallen so easily, I myself must be an easy game since I adore wandering around the forest.”

“And they seem to be right,” Leaf muttered, wittily referring to the incident prior that arranged this fated meeting.

“Oh?” She scoffed, her polite smile remaining intact. “You’ve quite the tongue. Are you from the valleys?”

“I do not know.”

She squinted.

“Hmm, I see.” The princess exhaled and shook her head disapprovingly. “Then I am to presume that I should also use my wits to cleverly weave a background for you much like your name, Leaf?”

“You wish for me to serve you, that I can tell, and for that to happen I would need your equal assistance,” Leaf spoke solemnly. “I do not recall anything of my past, but you can always make one for me.”

Leaf knelt in front of her. Silence ensued.

“You are deadly calm for a man who wished his history be erased…” The princess muttered.

Leaf was a strange man indeed. He was perceptive, yet he spoke like fate’s pawn. That is to say, the princess noticed he only ever says the truth. His countenance conveyed little desire to adopt rebellious ideologies. To be honest, there was nothing in those contrivedly starry eyes. It was bare. A false sky.

It almost made the princess worry for his lack of self-preservation had she not been the same. Lies were always at her hands’ disposal, and she greatly hoped it was not what her heart would contain in her last pages. She didn’t wish for a life of deceit. The princess's survival solely comes from her ability to “doublespeak”.

“I see your promise. You are made of self-mettle. Although your blunt tongue may mar your fortunes sooner before you could gaze upon His Majesty, I wish to prescribe you with new duties.”

She took a deep breath.

“This directive shall not be withdrawn in the name of the Divine Dragon. Leaf, a young knight from the Valley of Gaciea who will shortly be appointed retainer to the Royal Highness, Princess (F/n), kneels before me. Until the end of time, he shall be my sword, and I will be his master. Will you keep your word and uphold the oath— the promise?”

“I will.”

Not a moment did he hesitate. Not for a second did he think there was more to life than this. It was nearly bitter. His life sounded so simple to her tongue.

But it was a contract nonetheless.

A promise that must be fulfilled.

“I find myself stirred in restless days without you my by side. You haunted me so diligently this past 500 or so years.”

“Humor me, won’t you… my b-beloved?”

“Why have you hid away from me? Why did I have to find you in this state? Furred and mute. Didn’t you take a breath to think about how much your pain would mean a greater weight for me? Have you not a second thought about how much it pains me to see you like this— bearing the fangs of the abyss and the claws of the cursed…?”

“The only sigh of relief I can release is that at least in this new sky, Ongri— no, he calls himself Zhongli these days— would get between us no more.”

“This new fairy tale… For how long do you expect me to keep this promise, (Y/n)? How many more stories must we get through for us to reach a happy ending?”

“Please… I’m begging you… Say something!!!”

“…”

“… Speak… Please… Anything…”

“Tell me about our past rendezvous. Seduce me with your musings. Anything… can't you try, just for this special day?”

“Please… don’t turn your mask away from me…”

“Do you find time to flow as quick as the waters by the stream? I am inclined to believe this sentiment. I find it astonishing that we’ve spent eleven or so moonshines joined at a hip. Time ages us but we are none the wiser.”

Leaf grunted, heaving Princess (F/n)’s inventory as she spoke. He didn’t seem distressed by the weight and his princess appeared not at all troubled as well. At least, that what it seemed on the surface. Royals must make their superiority known. Leaf knew (F/n) wanted to also carry some of the bags, but he refused.

There were several notions Leaf refused that noon. When (F/n) entertained the thought of going out as herself and by herself, he disapproved with haste. Leaf had to know where she’s going, who she was going with, what she’s going to wear— just about everything. His voice alone overwhelmed the princess enough that you’d mistake him for the king. The knight practically ordered what she would wear and what route she’d have to take if she wished to see the ongoing festival.

Being herself was a safety hazard and being alone by herself was a death wish.

To his eyes, at least. He had always been a twinge too overprotective.

It was a hectic morning with a picture-perfect, almost cliche scene of bustling streets and frolicking kids on a medieval setting. While children would swerve around adults' legs to avoid getting tagged, adults walked slowly to hear each gossip. One kid had nearly hit the princess herself, but Leaf would not allow it.

Leaf pulled (F/n) away by putting an arm over her waist. The smell of her sweet perfume surprised him. Her smell reminded him of the forest. For the knight who professed to guard her innocence, her warm body lightly pressed against his was a fleeting but almost immoral moment. He set her down slowly, gasping quietly. The princess chose not to draw attention to the troubled expression on her most reliable retainer.

It was better not to acknowledge his growing romantic interests.

To her, he is only a sword.

Even if he is a friend, at the end of the day, he’s only a weapon to be used.

The princess quickly pulled the cape down further to hide her face— mostly her ears. For reasons unknown to him, she seemed to find that part of herself worthy of great insecurity.

He cleared his throat, face dusted in a pink hue.

“You say that time affects you, but you haven’t aged a day.”

The princess laughed.

“Finally, a compliment from a man as stoic as you? Oh, what a day to rejoice!”

Leaf shook his head with a small smile.

“I had given you one on several occasions.”

“That may be true, but random bouts of flattery from you are scarce.” The princess hummed. “I vaguely recall how getting anything out of you was like trying to get a frozen little duckling to quack. Who am I? Your mother duck?”

The smirk on his face was quick, but (F/n) definitely saw it.

Several staff once questioned Leaf’s ability to speak. Many, including (F/n)’s father, were convinced he was mute. Everyone in the castle knew of the princess’s peculiar tastes and thought Leaf’s recruitment was a mere byproduct. His masked appearance and strange scars added more fuel to those rumors. When Leaf defended (F/n) from another assassination attempt in front of the king and inquired about her condition, King Regan nearly toppled from where he stood.

After being bombarded with questions, Leaf merely said he refrained from speaking since he saw no use if he wasn't talking to the princess herself. (F/n) still finds it absurd that she has to give orders for him to talk to other people.

For Leaf, it was simple: he just didn’t see the point of forming other interpersonal relationships.

(F/n) was the only one that mattered in his eyes.

Only her.

Only she is worthy to serve and protect.

“You truly are like a little duckling following his mother’s tail,” Princess (F/n) sighed. “But you have vastly improved in our time together. That, I can commend.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” Leaf laughed softly, mocking her tone in his signature subtle way. “Oh, what a day to rejoice.”

She playfully gave him an elbow nudge. “Do not copy me, Leaf.”

“My apologies.”

Princess (F/n) was meandering around because the harvest festival was drawing closer. With her own eyes, the princess intended to see how her people were faring. Rarely did she change into a more "common" outfit and styled her hair with simplicity. Though, if you were to ask Leaf, seeing her in her most simple clothes made her far more youthful than the garbs and crown that wrinkles her smile to a frown.

“Madame, would you be interested in buying your lover here a brooch?”

Both of them stilled as a merchant called out. The undercover royal pointed to herself.

“Yes, yes, of course I’m talking to you, gorgeous!” The merchant grinned. He had silver hair that slightly covered one of his blue eyes. “Do you want matching rings instead? We’re selling for fifty percent off!”

Leaf’s gaze was stern. Despite his reservations, he knew the merchant as Alfstan, another young knight who hailed from a family of vendors. Two moonshines ago, Leaf was (forcefully) placed on training duty and had the fortune of mentoring this aspiring knight.

Mind you— nothing was particularly dubious of his wares. Leaf just simply despised having another man brazenly take your attention away. He did not find their previous exchanges pleasant. Not when Alfstan often joked about replacing his position one day.

What hubris.

While he busied himself glaring at the poor man, the princess awkwardly laughed and dismissively waved a hand. “Oh, no, he and I— we are not—”

“Haha, I know, I was just pulling your leg, Your Highness.” Alfstan grinned, giving Leaf a quick nod. “Morning, Sir Leaf! Were you showing the princess around?”

“Shhh! Be quiet!” (F/n)'s eyes widened.

He protectively wrapped an arm around (F/n) again, this time far more confidently.

“Yes.” Leaf spoke, voice as solid as his resolve.

“Mind if I tag along?”

His stare sharpened. “I would very much mind, now return to your stall.”

The princess shook her head, poorly judging her retainer’s possessive words as acts of protection. Instead, she dwelled on their attire. “Drats, was our disguise that fragile?”

Alfstan assessed her from top to bottom, which made Leaf even more tense. “Eh, you’re really gorgeous that no cloak can hide your beauty, Your Highness.”

“I have to agree,” Leaf said stiffly, clearing his throat. “Perhaps I should hide her in a hay sack. WIthout your prying eyes.”

(F/n) raised an eyebrow. “And what? And be suspected of kidnapping me instead?”

Leaf shrugged. “Does that sound like an offense I would commit?”

Alfstan rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously. Besides, the only way you wouldn’t get caught is if you hid her in something as small as a teapot.”

And he would be right. But it will take eons to prove those suspicions as truth.

“Going back to your wares, Sir Alfstan,” (F/n) digressed. “These iron-framed tassels, are they made by your hand?”

Alfstan's respect for the princess grew.

“Yes, how did you come up with that conclusion? Most passersby believed I had ‘em commissioned from the East.”

(F/n) smiled crookedly. Leaf caught a glimpse of discomfort, but it was gone in a bat of an eye.

“I… I admire your skill with molding iron.” To the untrained ear, (F/n) sounded flustered and embarrassed. To Leaf, he was certain that she was unsure of herself. “It is commendable, how you smith your very own weapons, that is. I know many of our soldiers come to you when their blades are chipped.”

“You’ve heard of my skills?!” Alfstan beamed proudly. “Really?!”

The princess nodded. “Y-Yes…”

It was odd. Despite her high praise, her wariness remained. She looked at the blonde man. “He had also made your new Ulfberht sword too, right? It certainly pierces much better than his old one.”

Leaf didn’t bother with a reply, Alfstan made it for him.

“Yes, Your Highness. I thought it would make for a thoughtful birthday present!”

“Speaking of presents…” The princess gazed down, analyzing the items he sold once more. “What do you recommend as a gift for someone important?”

If Alfstan was elated by her earlier compliments, he could practically jump over the moon at her newest proposition.

“Oh? OH?!?”

Leaf gave (F/n) a strict yet gentle glare.

“Your Highness…”

“I still won’t let it slide!” (F/n) huffed. “I couldn’t possibly be satisfied with just new sets of armor. Alfstan, by my order, suggest a pleasant gift for the stubborn knight beside me.”

“On it!”

Without delay, the two bent down to select the ideal accessory for the man who vehemently refused. Alfstan was the only one touching the gems and (F/n) refrained from doing so. Tiny flecks of gold and iron infused the tassels, but she feared she would handle the stones carelessly.

Leaf palmed his face with one hand as the two chattered. Still, despite Leaf’s disapproving looks, he finds (F/n)’s enthusiasm to make him happy a wonderful notion in itself. To think that (F/n) would continue to insist on a present for a birthday that had since passed… She was more stubborn than he was.

“So troublesome…” He muttered with a soft smile. “I see no point in this, Princess (F/n). Serving you is a miracle enough itself—”

“Halt! Speak no more, Sir Leaf!” (F/n) exclaimed. “There! That one, Alfstan— that gem resembles his eyes, does it not?!”

“You have great tastes, Princess (F/n)!” Alfstan nodded eagerly like a motivated student. “That does look like his shade of blue— and so quick to find it among the pile, too! Are you sure you’re not some sort of custodian of natural treasures?”

Princess (F/n)’s awkward and stifled laughter can be heard again.

“What? Haha, what nonsense.” She shook her head. “Everyone calls me Princess (F/n), any other name would surely sound terrifying and mismatched.”

A nonanswer, but that made the conversation more humorous.

“Here you go!”

Alfstan reached his hand out with the tassel. (F/n) stared at him, silent and unsure. He blinked and snapped his fingers.

“Oh, right, you need a box— my deepest apologies, I was too caught up in the moment!”

The princess sighed in relief.

Leaf crossed his arms. “You’re doing well for your first time setting up a stall, Alfstan.”

“This isn’t my first and you know it, Sir!”

(F/n) laughed.

The merchant wrapped the gift she brought with care. The hush looms large around them as the merchant boastfully goes about his business, his tone comforting to her ears. The Princess walks over to the gift box once the merchant has finished. She can't help but smile because she can feel the tassel inside.

“Not exactly a surprise since Sir Leaf is here, but the packaging adds some charm, right?” Alfstan asked.

The princess couldn’t hold back a smile as she looked at the knight behind her.

“I think most of the charm comes from the person who’ll receive it,” (F/n) chuckled.

“Don’t you think so, Leaf?”

She wouldn’t know. And she’d never know a lot of things.

She never got the chance to ask her most precious knight if he liked that gift.

And she never will. No matter how many days, months, years, centuries— eons Leaf would wait, he would never hear the princess ask that same question again after this.

It would not matter if he was a judge, a prince, a knight, or a mere animal— it did not matter how many sweet new styles he would take. In the end, his arms will always be empty. Everything was pre-ordained. Dying in his arms, whether it’s slow and painful or mercilessly quick— will remain as the last line. He will always hold on to your corpse, warmth draining.

This was your fate, (F/n)— no, (Y/n) (L/n).

This was just the first of many branches of the Irminsul. The first of its many reiterations, possibilities, or better yet, alternate tales or "universal resets".

Princess "(F/n)" coughed, wetting the side of her lips.

"I haven't been able to p-personally attach that tassel on your s-sword, b-but… but I can spare you enough seconds to fly away…"

"Don't make haste!" Leaf gritted his teeth as he applied some pressure down her stomach. "This is not your decision to make!"

She didn't reply to his desperation, but she silently disagreed.

In her palm was the tassel, out of its box. The blue threads darkened with the taints of her blood. The metallic scent was nauseating. It weaved in a disorganized fashion around her fingers.

What a beautiful and tragic loom of fate, to love someone you were bound to hold with ruin.

It would’ve hurt less if it weren’t in his colors too.

"This marks the worst day of my life," the “princess” smiled, tucking the stray hair behind Leaf's face. "And even if given the opportunity, I wouldn't dare c-change not even a minute detail about it."

As if she— as if you— have the power to change destiny.

You're not a descender.

You're just a pawn.

That's when Leaf realized how fragile life ultimately was. With the curse undoing itself, he recalled and reflected on his animal days. He understood the Divine Dragon's intense frustration over a lowly duckling's will to perish. The curse of becoming human meant knowing the greed men had, but also the beauty of their kindness.

His small bird heart was not meant for this much sorrow. His life was meant to be simple. To learn that he was not a duck, but a swan.

How was he supposed to cope that the woman he had sworn to protect was not human, but a fae?

Everyone in the kingdom knew that the king would sooner disclaim his paternity than allow the crown princess (F/n) to truly lead— but they never had any real reason to support the king for this. The princess’s words were always more kind and ponderous than that of her supposed father’s. They thought him mad. They thought him deplorable. They thought him old and senile.

But he would not be king if he were not sharp.

Why, oh why, would the princess make great efforts to constantly hide her ears? Why would the princess utter roundabout ways in speaking her “own” name? Most of all, why would the princess fear the touch of iron?

There was a simple answer: she was not the princess, but a liar.

And yet, Leaf was the sole person who did not care, for he thought himself as the worst sinner or “quack” in comparison.

The kingdom won't learn the full truth for some time after this, but the fae made a bargain with the real princess. The real princess would elope with a farm boy and, in return, the fae would take her name. The trade was not malevolent. The two women were secret friends since childhood and neither wished the other harm.

But the townsfolks had little patience. They would sooner throw pebbles and stones than kneel for a false princess.

The moral of the story, like most Brothers Grimm’s fairy tales, was simple: virtue will be rewarded, iniquity will be punished. The storytellers do not care beyond that, no matter how dark it sounds to the children who will hear it. The fae lied, therefore the kingdom shall rightfully punish her.

They better thank the dragon they oh-so admire that the court fae did not think themselves evil. They better sleep soundly, knowing that they have slaughtered a well-intentioned guardian.

For he will not and never will.

Not even with a change of title, name, and universe. Whether the land he walked on was called Gaciea, Fodlan, Belobog, the Continental, or Teyvat— what the world steals from him, he promised to take back.

There the two were, back to where it started. The same forest and patch of land where the bear had attacked her. Fate had a funny way of telling tales. Leaf can only scoff at how unimaginative it could be, sometimes.

Why couldn’t fate think of more comfortable deathbeds for the one he loved?

"You cannot allow this! I cannot allow this!" The knight gritted his teeth. "You will not die— you cannot die. You and I have a promise… You cannot break that one promise!!!”

“(F/n)” grinned.

The look in her eyes disturbed him.

She knew. It is finished. She knew that it was the last page of the book. Just living in these immortalized pages for the fae was well worth the want she had wanted.

“Consummatum est.”

Consummatum est….

Leaf gasped shakily.

“Did my life… even have meaning to you as well?”

Her expression was enough to tell him the words “who knows?” She surely did not. Her mind was buzzing and her thoughts were fizzling out. No one knows anymore. Maybe the Divine Dragon would but he would not accept any offering or prayers for these two heretics.

This is fine… He’ll forget his tears soon, surely…

He’s only a sword at her side… She never asked him to be anything more…

He should be okay, once she’s gone…

She grinned, lifelessly tracing her thumb across his cheeks. The curse is undone. The loom of fate was slowly disintegrating. Soon enough, he shall return to his original form. That of an animal. That of an ugly duckling. That of a swan who will forget his human memories.

It is finished.

On the book’s final page, there is only ever a fae’s corpse and an elegant bird watching over them. With its wings clipped back, curiously watching the light leave their eyes, he will return to the nearby riverbanks and forget what had happened. As retribution for stealing another’s identity, there will be no one left to remember who she truly was.

And that was all there was to it.

With the fae banished, the Kingdom of Gaciea lived happily ever after. THE END.

Dainsleif closed the book and lovingly looked at the “person” beside him in bed. He stroked the “person”’s light brown hair— its color reminiscent of the bear he had slain in his first life. It’s a shame he had to reunite with you in this condition. But it’s not like he would stop loving you. He doesn’t care if you’re a fae, a sinner—

Or a hilichurl.

He scooted closer beside you.

"So, does the story ring any bells, my beloved?"

Zhongli, upon recalling what happened and the curse he had inflicted on both of you to fulfill some children’s fairy tale, sought the “ugly duckling” and the “false princess”. Retired as he is, he cannot undo the fate you must play nor terminate his contract with Celestia. For consolation, he merely offered the Khaenri’ahn a teapot. Unlike the Chasm, the teapot was forever peaceful and serene. The brightness of lumenstone ores was not as comforting as the adeptal light that peeks through the drapes. This is your current place of residence. Whether you liked it or not.

"To think Nicole would entail the story of our past life." He laughed softly. "And these names... Hah... Are those the best she could conjure up to bypass possible erasure…? I suppose I should still thank her for her best efforts. I can see how challenging it would be to document our story, given how we lived through so many resets."

There’s a slice of cake paired with wooden utensils on the nightstand. If your mind had not deteriorated, you might’ve assumed they were gifts from the aforementioned Nicole and the Geo Archon. Unfortunately, forming a coherent thought required a mental fortitude akin to iron. You currently do not have such willpower.

“Alfstan— no… Halfdan was right. There will come a time that he’d protect you from harm and not I…” Dainsleif mumbled defeatedly, his eyes burning with tears he couldn’t let out. Far too tired to dwell on it. “He must’ve forgotten his old jests in his previous life because as far as he’s concerned, he’s simply doing his duty as a Black Serpent Knight…”

He pecked your forehead, closing his eyes.

"Did you remember, my beloved? Vacation may not have any business being in my vocabulary but it is my birthday today…" Dainsleif leaned his forehead against the cold stone that covered your face. "I know you— do not feel guilty over your lack of gifts. It is not as if I bothered to count my age since the cataclysm. I didn't want to celebrate this occasion for the past five centuries. Not when you weren't at my side..."

The blonde man turned his gaze to the floor.

How many times will he have to “reincarnate” just to see a happy ending for the both of you?

"Happy birthday… to me…" He sang weakly. "Happy birthday to me…"

The man— the former sentimental judge— the former tyrant prince— the former "ugly duckling"— and now the current bough keeper, observer of fate in this new fairy tale, trembled…

“Happy birthday, happy birthday…”

… And sobbed.

You, in your ungreedy husk of a body, tilted your head in innocence. Pain coursed through every nerve now that the Abyss Order’s cleansing equipment broke. The man before you was no different from the shadows you fought and hid from that would terrorize the dark and cold places in the Chasm you’ve instinctively called home. But somewhere deep down, you carried a complex weight that hilichurls wouldn’t normally have.

That weight was a human emotion dubbed as "pity."

You pitied the shadow that loomed and embraced you.

And your lone reluctant arm that wrapped around him was enough to make him fully break down.

His throat constricted as he cried into your inhuman shoulders. Your scent was like that of a wet duckling, and he preferred that over the blood that disgraced your form several "fairy tales" ago. Dainsleif caressed the golden band on his finger. It was the most important ring between the two that Pari Zurvan found him clutching whilst unconscious in the wilderness.

At the very least, you were safe.

And you being alive today was a good enough present for him.

You tilted your head down, feeling his warmth one last time while Dainsleif took a deep breath, singing with more air than a proper tune.

Though it was barely discernible, he could just about make out the words you muttered a phrase from the old language of Khaenri'ah. Or at least, he deluded himself that that was the case. In his catatonic mind, you spoke the words:

Happy birthday, my beloved.

"H-Happy birthday to me…"

Taglist: @pix-stuff @sagekun @vennnnn-diagram @dilucragnidvr @tnsophiaonly @lsleepysimpl @kitkareen @dxprived4-starboys

#yandere dainsleif #yandere dainsleif x reader #dainsleif #dainsleif x reader #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere x reader #yandere fanfiction #yandere male

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puzzled-pegasus · 11 months ago

Text

wof headcanons but theyre oddly food and substance related for some reason

Although I understand why Tui didn't include very much info abt alchohol or drugs in a kids book there is an extreme lack of culinary related world building so here are some ideas I had while on this train of thought :)

SeaWings tend to be foodies and are generally given cooking classes in school. Which if you think about it, is rather important, because like 60 percent of the creatures in the ocean are poisonous and the rest have parasites and nasty germs so they need to know whats up when it comes to food safety.

SeaWings use a lot of citrus in their food and drinks and they also use it for fragrances and stuff they just really like it

SeaWing nobles commonly eat fugu and there have been assassinations where a chef was bribed to not properly take out the poison so the dragon eating it would die

SeaWings drink to taste. SkyWings drink to forget what century it is.

SkyWings typically eat their meat raw but on special occasions they will barbecue it and put some spices n stuff on it. They don't eat much else besides meat but they do like spicy things like peppers and they also like strong onion or garlic flavors. The little masochists. Anyway,

SkyWings don't really like sweet things and many of them can't even taste them so they're like wtf is a dessert

man do they love them some olives tho. Olives everywhere. In their drink. Out of the jar. On their meat. Oil on their scales. Oil in their hygiene products. They started trading them from the Sand and SeaWings millennia ago but theyve selectively bred ones that grow in the mountains

This one's more drugs than food but SkyWings will sometimes take some kind of stimulant before battle like a beserker so they're all fired up heheh

MudWings are excellent meal preparers and sibs like to all cook together so they'll make a big pot of stew or something

They like bread and desserts, they have easy access to sugar cane being along the east coast and they also use a lot of honey. They're re into canning stuff too, they have a lot of raspberries and blackberries and strawberries in their temperate forest areas and they grow them to make jam and wine and they use honey to make mead

basically they are Cottagecore(TM) and I love them

They also eat lots of freshwater fish and crawfish and whatnot

And they also eat a lot of tatoes

Vanilla grows in the swamps, they use that in their cakes

MudWings deserve some appreciation goddamnit their kingdom is biologically diverse and beautiful

SandWings have tequila because. Yknow. Cactus.

They eat a lot of bugs and lizards, they don't really need to eat every day so it's not a huge deal

they do like coconuts tho and they use coconut oil in a lot of their hygiene products as well as in their cooking

They deep fry a lot of shit. Idk where i got this but trust me. They love things with lots of fat in it bc they need all they can get

Really sticky sweet desserts and candy; enjoyers of those one lollipops with the mealworms or whatever tf in them

also canning stuff like bone broth is very important

pickled cactus as well

rhey probably have a festival when cactus fruit goes in season

what even is IceWing cuisine.

Well way up north where there's nothing but ice it's pretty bad and the dragons have to eat just plain ass meat and seafood, but down into the tundras there's some pretty good stuff like cinnamon, pines for tea, honey berries, and other foraging as well as more diversity of meats

They would probably eat sushi

All the other tribes like to make fun of them and rightfully so bc their food is so plain

they make good honey berry wine tho

Maube that's why theyre so damn grumpy

RainWings are expert foragers ofc but they don't really feel the need to prepare their food in any way

They are, however, in constant dire need of sodium because they get absolutely none from their fruit

So anything salty is wow

Maybe rhey have a place near the mud kingdom border where they can grow some asparagus for salt

they are also the only tribe besides Night that can eat chocolate but forgor 💀 how to make it so the NightWings and them have to re figure it out together

Salted dark chocolate bing bang boom instant delicacy

NightWings used to be able to cook really well, especially desserts and pastry, but they forgor while they were trying to not die on the volcano

#wof #wings of fire #wof headcanons #this one is really long im sorry #food #alcohol #tw drug mention

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tuliptired · 5 months ago

Note

anything w egon and ta!reader 🙏🙏🙏

Southern Skies

Pairing: Egon Spengler/TA!Reader

no more fics abt kids for 10 years cuz I'm scared yall can tell when I'm ovulating

Better formatting on Ao3!!

The newspaper was spread out over the table, frankly ignored as all four men were scrambling to get breakfast in themselves before they headed out to a call scheduled painfully early. Egon paused, hoping to get a sip of coffee without it spilling over onto his underclothes, when he spotted it- an editorial that had consulted you for a professional opinion. Mug barely to his lips as he skimmed it, Ray appeared in front of him, ready to go.

“Something interesting?” he inquired, attempting to read upside down. Ray opened his suit a tad in hopes to get some air. “Jeez, it’s hot today.”

“It’s that time.” Egon’s own words making him start to wonder something, forgetting about the mug, guessing that it’d just have to go cold if they wanted to get there in a timely manner. “Do you recognize the name?”

Ray got a proper look, squinting and fishing for an answer in his head, shaking it twice. “Not really. You know my memories’ shot,” he patted Egon on the shoulder, all the men filing out and down the steps.

Ray’s memory must’ve been crushed, ran over, and spat upon- Egon could remember like it was yesterday. He wasn’t complaining, really, content with the recollection being something he could keep just for himself as he broke into a small and selfish smile behind his friends’ backs.

Christine brought eyes to the clouds in exasperation “You don’t know how awkward it is to see a clone of your boyfriend everywhere,” she complained as you headed back to your dormitory.

“Side-effects of dating a twin.” You let out a small laugh at her long-distance plight with your books stacked in your arms. It was nice and bright out, the perfect afternoon for a good, long book, or an equally as lengthy nap. “Are you at least, like, friends?”

She sighed, pushing open the complex’s doors. “A bit. We’re gonna have to be, anyway.”

“It’s not all bad. No need for those pictures he sends-”

“I’m not listening !” Christine whined, squeezing her eyes shut and pushing manicured nails into her ears while you snickered devilishly. “I can’t believe you saw those.”

You put the key to your space into the door. “Relax, I’m not reading your mail. Just stop leaving nasty letters on the coffee table.” Christine groaned in embarrassment, sinking into the armchair you got in a yard sale all the way back in winter.

“Speaking of,” she toyed with a fraying edge of the lime green fabric, “He called this morning. He’s still coming- just thought we should bring a few friends.”

You made a skeptic noise as you started on lunch for you and your roommate. “Ouf. During your big reunion trip that you can’t stop talking about?” you asked over your shoulder, washing some fruit.

“That’s the one.” Christine sat up, accidently pulling some of the thread with her. “I suggested it. I just thought he deserved to see them, after being away so long.” You traded your skepticism for understanding, placing grapes in a strainer. “What I’m trying to say…”

“I would love to take a road trip with strangers while you make out in the front seat. It’d be an honor, actually.”

Christine snuck a few grapes and popped them in her mouth. “You’re not as distant as you think. It can’t be that bad- I’ll be there!” she punctuated herself by stealing another handful. “What happened to our summer plans?”

“If I’m only being half sarcastic,” you ended up giving her the entire colander, “wouldn’t I be intruding?” She sat on the counter, legs of her jeans swinging back and forth.

“Not at all. I’d like you to meet him before the wedding,” Christine teased you. When you weren’t entirely receptive, she poked you in the side. “If you end up with the brother, our kids’ll pretty much be siblings.”

“Not how genetics works. We’d have to be twins, too.”

“We practically are.”

“Oh, of course.” you joked as she turned you both towards the mirror on the wall. You watched her hopeful face in the mirror. Why was she always the one encouraging you to try new things, anyway? These next few months won’t last forever, admittedly, and soon you’ll be put into the real world where you can’t just drop everything for a trip out with other young people. Plus, you needed to know if her boyfriend was as cute as she said. “When do we leave?” you finally caved.

Christine jumped up, full of excitement as she dragged you to the closet. “Oh, I have to help you pack!”

“Why would I wanna do that?” Egon said into the phone, slipping into casual speech with his brother on the other end when Peter and Ray walked in, back from their lunch. “I don’t like being in a car with you on a regular day.”

“Because I’m coming home and you wanna see me,” Elon answered, unaffected by his twin. Egon sighed into the receiver at his happy tone. Out of all the things he’s had nightmares about, being stuck in a hot car with his brother and his girlfriend was the most hellish.

“Do they know you’re coming?”

“The last time I surprised Mom she told everyone I died. I attended my own funeral. Hey, you could bring Pete and Ray along. It’s a whole thing- Chris offered.”

“What about us?” Peter said over Egon’s shoulders, making him flinch away from his friend.

“Wanna take a trip to the shore?” Elon raised his voice so Peter could hear him, Egon flinching in the opposite direction as his ears were assaulted on either side.

Ray dropped what he was doing, now intrigued. “A road trip?” he smiled. “We’re going!”

Egon handed his roommates the phone, since they were so interested in a little excursion with his brother. What was it about the concept that sounded so fun to those three? He could drive anywhere at any time without it having to be a “thing”.

“Oh man,” Ray covered the receiver, “apparently there’s a campsite with the clearest sky for stargazing,” he beamed.

“Get pictures for me,” Egon said plainly, turning his chair back to his desk. Peter didn’t like that, apparently, spinning his friend back around with his hands on his hips.

“You’re not staying here to rot while we’re off kissing girls and looking at space.”

He ignored the pseudo-vulgarity. “I’ll manage. Besides, I have work to get ready for.” Not entirely untrue, he did have an internship coming up- they all did, just not until much later in the season. Ray frowned, seemingly catching the man in his half-lie.

“That’s so far away, Spengs. If you do this, we’ll never ask for anything ever again.” Ray reasoned, grinning hopefully. Egon sat back in thought, under a spotlight shined on him by his two friends. His legs would get tired. He probably couldn’t wear a sweater in the heat. He’d have to sleep in a dingy motel at some point. But- he’d get a rare chance to actually see the night sky without light pollution. If it rained, he’d get a moment for fungus hunting. And maybe he did miss his brother. Maybe.

“When do we leave?”

You barely had time to catch the bag your friend nearly dropped before she was sprinting towards a parked light blue car by the curb with its trunk popped open. As you got closer to the little congregation, your mouth fell open as you got a real look at the man she was clinging to.

Holy shit . This was gonna be so much more fun than you thought.

“Lonnie!” She hugged him tightly, peppering lipstick covered kisses all over his face. The face you’d come to know quite well, actually.

“Hey, Chris,” he smiled dopily. It was jarring, seeing that face smile so earnestly. They were the exact same person, down to the length and style of their hair, height- if you were crazy enough, you’d ask if they wore the same frames. And one of them was smiling? You had assumed that everyone in the Spengler family was a sea anemone. He, Elon, held onto her waist, before catching sight of you standing on the sidewalk. “Hi,” he grinned warmly, “have you met everyone?”

You couldn’t answer before he took the reins, introducing the unfamiliar men who you had only just noticed. Elon exuded being a natural conversationalist. How ironic? “That’s Peter. Psychology.”

You wondered why he was so familiar until it finally clicked. “I know you. There’s a girl in psych who said you slept over and stole her silk robe.”

“I can’t help it if I look better in it.”

Elon stifled a laugh- that girl was good friends with Christine. “Ray’s in engineering,” he managed to get out.

“I like your jacket,” you complimented, amused at the fashion choice in such unrelenting heat.

“Thanks,” Ray cuffed his sleeves happily, “I like your lack of a jacket.”

You laughed at that, adjusting the bag on your back getting heavier and heavier by the second. “It’s 80 degrees!”

“Car ACs are no joke.”

Elon tried peeking around the back of the car. “I’m sure you’ve met my brother. He’s just a ray of sunshine.”

“Sure.” You smiled inwardly, watching Egon arrange luggage like there was a science to it- which, there probably was. You headed back there, slinging a backpack off your shoulder. “Isn’t this fun?” you spoke lowly. He looked miserable, but in a humorous way. At least, humorous for you.

He didn’t answer, placing it in the trunk silently. You placed Christine’s on the roomy felt flooring next to a bit of camping gear before you spoke again, unbothered by his petulance. “I didn’t know you had a twin.”

Egon moved her bag, the spot you chose apparently not optimal enough for him. “I’d consider him more of a parasite.” That made you laugh as he shut the hatch, but didn’t lock it, the latching mechanism seemingly unfamiliar to him. You reached down, doing it for him before leaving him behind to join the rest of your new friends.

“At least he’s a cute parasite.”

Elon held the door open for his girlfriend. “You wanna sit upfront?” Elon asked before she shook her head, climbing into the window seat in the back.

Christine pulled her seatbelt across her chest. “I’ll get sick. Y/N, sit back here with me.” she patted the spot next to her. Elon nodded, getting into the driver’s seat while you slid in beside your friend, cherishing the space you probably won’t get again for the next couple of hours.

“Ray? Will you be my co-captain?” Elon starts the ignition, cranking his window down a crack. Ray got in the passenger’s seat enthusiastically, almost hitting his head on the roof.

“Do I!” he was virtually buzzing as he took in all the bells and whistles in front of him. You weren’t exactly a car person, but you could say this one was objectively pretty hip- even the leather felt nice underneath you. Peter and Egon filed in next, Elon pulling off from the sidewalk as Ray couldn’t contain himself, starting again.

He ran a careful finger across the dash. “Where’d you get this from, anyway?”

“I cashed in a couple favors, traded in the beetle,” Elon paused at a crosswalk.

Peter hummed. “Didn’t know they drove like this in yodieland.”

Elon put a finger up in defense. “I got this ‘cause of my exceptional business skills.”

“Just say you’re a bad dealer.”

Eventually, your little group made it out onto the highway, surrounded by high heels and even higher trees. You had the little book you had snuck in cracked open, but there really was no need. The car was full of excellent talkers, dissolving any previous fears about if it would ever get too quiet or awkward. Excellent talkers, excluding Egon. A silent part of yourself cursed Christine for picking the window, placing you in between herself and the psychologist, away from the victim of your tortures. But, your read and your position were forgotten about, book spread open and face down on your lap as Elon shared a riveting story about roller skating.

“Now that you mention skating,” Peter turned to you and Christine, her legs thrown over your own, “you’d never believe me if I told you how good Egon is.”

You sat up, somehow even more interested. “No way.” you flashed the man over Peter’s shoulder a wicked smile as he offishly avoided your gaze.

Peter nodded. If there was trickery in his eyes, you’d have missed it. “Yes way. Absolute god, too.” Elon and Ray made a few noises of agreement up front.

“I’ll have to see it sometime,” you say as innocently as possible, enjoying the sight of Egon’s cheeks turning pink under the attention. “No need to be embarrassed- I think it’s cool.” you sounded genuine to everyone who wasn’t either of you, leaning forward to catch his eye.

It twitched as he searched you, just like it did in your lecture hall. Who said a classroom could only have four walls?

“Not embarrassed for me,” he kept eye-contact, “embarrassed for you when you fall.”

There was a chorus of ooo-ing as you slumped back in your seat- not embarrassed yourself, but satisfied with his ability to get you back, even when it wasn’t over a work of fiction. “Very funny,” you started, needing an iron will to refer to him with his first name as to not make things look weird, “Egon.”

At some point, Christine had her face pressed to the glass while you were stuck in midday traffic- bumper to bumper. “Check out the moose!” she gasped, shaking your shoulder.

“Moose don’t live down here,” Elon spared a look while the car inched forward. You put your play down, squinting outside with her.

“Those are two bucks.”

“And they’re-”

The car suddenly gained speed as traffic lessened, giving the two not-moose their privacy.

At some point, as the sun was getting ready to set, the car found itself on another long stretch of highway, no other vehicle in sight as you made your way around winding roads lined with yellow-green. Elon must’ve noticed something, or someone, with their thumb out when he decided to slow down, easing on the brakes as he pulled onto the shoulder.

The hitchhiker spoke into his half closed driver side window, “Hey, man. I just need a ride to somewhere with a bus stop.” Elon nodded understandably, saying something about checking the tires before you’d go.

“Try to make a decision before I get back,” Elon spoke softly as to not be overheard by your prospective guest.

Egon definitely would’ve rather kept going, but Ray was the first to speak. “Probably won’t see anyone again for miles,” he presumed, turning in the passenger’s seat.

“He can’t have any ill will. Hard to kill all six of us.” you offered, not to Egon’s surprise. He watched as you turned to your friend, tapping her boot against the floor. “Christine? What d’you think?”

She kept her eyes straight ahead, arms crossed. “Whatever gets us to the rest stop the fastest.”

“Don’t worry. Just don’t think about the beach. Or the river down there. Or drinking wate-”

“Be quiet , Peter!” she fussed. He apologized when she shifted around where she was sitting, checking how much progress her boyfriend had made on whatever he was doing.

Ray unbuckled his seatbelt. “He should sit up front,” he started, before Peter put a hand out.

“And where will you go?”

He gave his friend a bemused look, cocking an eyebrow. “I’ll get back there with you guys,” he said as if he was doubting his answer.

“With that butt? There’s no space.” Egon could tell you were holding in your own amusement before your own friend spoke up, foot tapping evolving into knee bouncing.

Christine squeezed your shoulder like it was a stressball. “I’d let you sit on me, but I think I’d piss my pants if you did.”

“Glad I’m being thought of,” you kept your eyes ahead as she once did to avoid being the next puzzle piece for this little dilemma. When you heard Elon approach the car again, with no verdict reached, you sighed heavily, unbuckling yourself and scooting forward. “You don’t mind?” his wide eyes caught sight of your hand on the frame of the door. He’d say no, make you sit on the roof; that’d keep you from bothering him. So why’d he say yes?

He thought he was done with this. The things you’d do, the things you’d say- he thought all of that was done, at least until school started again and he was locked into the same routine. But now, you were on him, and it wasn’t explicit but it felt that way and he couldn’t miss the look his twin gave him before he finally decided to drive and the car was moving . He got insanely self aware insanely quickly, cursing whoever it was that convinced him to wear a dingier pair of pants.

Elon couldn’t have been more careless a driver, bumping into potholes and sticks and whatever other debris littered the road ahead as he approached a town. He only had a second to burn a stare into the rearview mirror, before his brother stopped a little too hard, sending you sliding down the length of his bent thighs and into his torso.

Egon was absolutely burning up, hands not knowing where to stay as he unconsciously encompassed the middle of your back with both of his palms, sitting up uncomfortably. “Sorry” was all she could mutter as his heart clamored to the front of his chest.

Except, you looked back at him. Smiling . “What’re you sorry for?” you asked sweetly, quiet enough so only he could hear. This was his affliction acting up again, head swimming without coherent thought. He knew that this was nothing but your poison, giving him a perfectly reasonable reaction to the toxin. Like Claudius and Hamlet. God, he was thinking like you.

So Egon didn’t say anything, planting two hands on your waist like he’d seen his brother do to Christine. He could be poisonous, too.

The car sputtered to a stop at a larger gas station outside a little town, forever tainted by the sight of Christine running inside before she could have an accident. Peter offered to fill up the tank as the hitchhiker made his way to the bus shelter, and everyone emptying out the car left only you and Egon.

“Thanks,” you grinned, pinching the apple of his blank face before you climbed off, following them all. He knew he’d rather stay alone in the car, but Peter had yet to bring the last 8 minutes up, and he was most likely close to breaking.

Egon gave Ray a half-hearted thanks as the interior gave him much needed relief from the sun, even if it was in the form of a handful of desktop fans. He wandered off from you and Ray as you stocked up on campfire-food, his eyes drawn to the knick-knacks for sale that lined the walls of pure dark wood, wherever there wasn’t an ancient looking antique mounted. A charming kind of hospitality, Egon thought as he passed another shelf full of anything anyone would stock up on.

There was a lunch counter facing a large window that gave patrons a wide view of the orange sunset. But, he wasn’t so much drawn to it as he was to the glass classes full of confections and pastry that garnished the benchtop, marked with differing prices. Egon’s stomach sang at the idea of a slice of cake. When was the last time he had a good dessert?

“Huh. Pegged you more of a vanilla-guy.” Egon jumped. You had to stop popping up everywhere. “Let me buy it for you.” you kept your eyes on the crystalware.

“Buy an entire chocolate cake?”

You shrugged, arms full of packets of graham crackers. “Sure, if you promise to go halfsies.”

Egon couldn’t think of much as you started towards the cashier, simply following you. “Why?” was the only word that came to mind. You stilled, sighing before keeping on.

“Because I find you so agreeable. Now, get my wallet for me.” And, naturally, it had to be in your back pocket.

You held the wax-paper wrapped one-tier in awe, both of you fairly hypnotized at opaque swirls of brown icing pressed against foggy parchment. You handed it off, telling him to hide it while you used the restroom. Egon hardly had a moment to take anything else in before you scuttled out the family bathroom, door shut harshly with your back.

“What?” He noted the quick rise and fall of your chest as you took a few steps away.

“They really missed each other.”

You all met Peter with bags full of marshmallow and chocolate when the stranger’s greyhound pulled up, coughing out exhaust. Elon quickly ducked into the glove compartment, springing out with a small baggie that his brother missed when he bounded over to the man. From this distance, the backpacker seemed elated as Elon returned, looking pleased with himself.

“What was that?” Ray placed the last paper sack into the trunk, away from the windows.

“Expanding my business to the east coast,” he answered confidently. His eyes went round at the sight of a police trooper against the tangerine horizon, ushering everyone back inside so they could get back on their way.

It was past dark when they pulled into the parking lot of a state campsite, virtually all for themselves. Egon felt out of place when he gandered at his reflection in the mirror of the visitor’s bathroom, t-shirt and Peter’s lounge pants replacing his normal pajamas. He was starting to miss his cap and gown- it certainly would’ve protected against prospective ticks better than the short man’s bottoms leaving his ankles bare.

Elon drove out to the lake, where Ray was put in charge of starting a fire and assembling smores. At some point during the little mass, you had stopped him passing one to Egon insisting that you see the inside. You crinkle your nose, before grabbing the bag of marshmallows and handing him one on a stick.

“How do you eat yours?” Your tone was professorial, as if you weren’t trying to interrogate him on how he toasted a mini cube of gelatin and sugar. Egon plucked it from you, holding it over the flame for all of three seconds. You made a face, taking it back. “There’s a right way to do it wrong.”

He watched as you let it burn completely charcoal black. Before he could refuse, you put a hand up, deep in concentration. Your fingers pinched the burnt outside, meticulously sliding it off to reveal a gooey, white center which you haphazardly rolled onto your palm after sampling the caramelized shell. “Try,” you held it out to him. Egon made a face in turn, silently refusing. He cowered, attempting to nix you when you climbed over your stump and onto his, eventually forcing the treat into his mouth. Reluctantly, he chewed, and found it wasn’t all that bad- if not a bit hot. He caught his brother’s eye as you sat back, licking the residue off your fingers, and the warmth and smoke of the fire caught up with him as he frowned. This was not enjoyable. This was the poisoned goblet

When the fire was out, they could really enjoy the night sky above them. It was an inky oil spill, dappled with the light of soft stars in an uncorrupted plane, vast and never ending as it rolled on in every possible direction. “It’s beautiful,” Christine marveled, curled up into her boyfriend while they sat on the grass.

Egon kept his eyes upward to avoid the sight of Elon’s fingers dancing along the hem of her pajamas. He muttered something about a better place to see it all, and they were off somewhere in the sloping hillside. Your knees were tucked into your chest when Ray leaned over, smiling.

“Have you ever seen stars like this?” You broke out into your own smile, shaking your head.

“Never,” you clenched and unclenched your hands, appealing smaller. Egon could feel that pull in between his eyes, that involuntary darkness in his face. But it wasn’t directed at you. It was directed at his friend. Where was this coming from?

Peter stood then, shaking refuse from himself. “C’mon, Ray. I’ll grab the camera and we can go up there for some good pictures.”

Ray stayed sitting with his legs crossed. “Oh, it’s okay. You can see it great down here.”

“Oh, you’re so much better with the camera than me,” Peter persisted.

“I wouldn’t say that-” Ray started to wave his friend off, before he was hoisted to his feet and led off into the darkness somewhere. That left only you and him.

You rose when they disappeared over the trees, unlocking the trunk and propping it open as far as it could go. After clearing the way from stray bags and luggage, you procured a blanket that hung over the backseat, draping in across the bed and settling in. Egon looked on stiffly, before you touched the space next to yourself. “Because you don’t like the grass,” you said simply.

He sat, legs dangling over the edge of the car ungracefully. You didn’t seem to mind. “Isn’t it perfect?” you venerated heavenward. Egon took in the celestial body, marbling in a color he had only seen on your sweaters. Other hues swirled and mixed with each other, creating a depth that he was sure would match your corneas. Airglow flowed out from within Andromeda, streaks of energy peeking and hiding within a dark backdrop that mirrored the flow of your hair. The stars speckled everything in sight, being everything and nothing at the same time, content with vacuity and shining in abundance. He nodded, transfixed.

“I never realized that stars weren’t just…dots. Now they’re in front of me, and they’re things .” you expressed, attempting to trace them into vaster shapes. “It’s a shame the moon isn’t out.”

Egon did the same, scanning for a constellation. “Burning groups of hydrogen turning into helium, letting out electromagnetic radiation.”

You twinkled. “Show-off.” You leaned back on your hands, before sitting back up, digging around and emerging with the cake from earlier. “You hid it back here?” you judged him playfully, stealing two forks from the glove compartment.

“One for you,” you pressed a fork down the middle of the, surprisingly undamaged, dessert, “and one for me.” Egon was wary as you took a piece from his half, bringing it to his lips. His pupils crossed as you held it between his eyes, and he held back as if it was venom. He took the fork from you instead, whatever fluttery feeling that was happening in his abdomen flying away.

You took your own bite, and nearly melted. “What’s in this?” you said around a mouthful of cake. Egon savored some of the pleasant, treacly chocolate flavor.

“Cherries,” Egon deduced, the both of you going back for more. At some point, you had clutched his arm, eyes wide and glowing.

“A shooting star!” you pointed, the streak of light soaring through space for a mere few more seconds before it faded as quick as it appeared. “Did you make a wish?”

He sat unaffectedly, arm tingling where you had touched him. “An archaic superstition.”

You raised a brow, sitting back again. “You believe in ghosts and possession, but not wishing on stars?”

Egon didn’t have an answer, and a silence fell when you brought yourself back to the cosmos. “If I had the time, I’d look more into astronomy.” He didn’t know what forced that out, perhaps it was the vulnerability of megacosm enveloping him.

“If you had time?”

“Astrology, if I had an eternity.” Egon paused, when you let out a noise of acknowledgment. “Its connections with the paranormal are worth researching, however frivolous.” In the corner of his vision, you were sitting and staring. Eyelids low, gaze burning and expression unguarded. Poison.

“You’re not just a robotic physicist.”

He was lost for words. “To who?”

“To me, at least.” Egon’s eyes studied every bit of your face, like a robotic physicist. Eyes with a depth that matched the hues of the night sky. Hair flowing like the airglow of space. There was a beating in his ears, drowning out sounds of rustling grasses and a rippling lake in the wind. If the universe had a tangible sound, it’d be this. And it sounded like your breathing. It all created a new layer of confusion for him. This reverie was voluntary. So why could he see ether within you? The medley of matter and the atemporal shine of stars?

An indecent noise pulled him from his rumination, though it did nothing to raise his temperature even higher than it already was. “They must’ve really missed each other,” you remarked, climbing over the backseat to grab your toiletries. Egon frowned, watching your figure retreat in the direction of the visitor’s bathroom. He only followed in case you’d get lost. But his insides still felt stark.

Egon woke when your head hit the trunk door, and you winced in pain. He sat up, not quite remembering electing to sleep in the commodious back seat, but recognizing that he was no longer in the middle of a park. He clutched the blanket pooled around his middle closer to himself, feeling like an indecent woman as you got the door open. This was a parking lot. To a diner.

“Well, don’t you two look nice.”

“You left us,” you stood at your friend’s table, not nearly as chastened at being in the middle of a busy restaurant in your sleep clothes as Egon was.

Christine smiled apologetically, putting her mug down, “Sorry, you just looked so peaceful.”

You both returned to the table after freshening up in the bathroom equally as eager to eat the breakfast that was ordered in your absence. Before having anything of your own, you split off a piece of the pie Christine saved and wordlessly slid it over to Egon. He ate it just as wordlessly.

“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Ray started from across the table, “The book you were reading earlier- it was Liliom, right? Are you a fan of Rodgers and Hammerstein?”

You brightened. Egon didn’t much enjoy the taste of pie anymore. “Oh, yeah! I love Carousel,” you clenched and unclenched your hands again.

“That’s great! My graduating class did Carousel!” Ray leaned forward. You parroted him.

“In highschool?” You asked, awestruck. “I’m jealous.”

“What’s Carousel?” Peter wondered indolently, buttering a piece of toast.

“It’s this opera-musical about a mill worker-”

“Who falls in love with a carnival barker-”

“But he dies trying to provide for her! And he has to redeem himself for their future daughter.” you say simultaneously, breaking out into a fit of laughter. Egon felt ill.

“You were going to see Midsummer Night's Dream, right?” The question slipped out without much thought from him, though without any resistance or regret.

He added sugar to his coffee while you wiped your eye. “Yeah, there’s a revival in this theater with the best costume design.”

“I’m surprised you enjoy it so much. I mean, it is a parody of its audience.”

You narrowed your eyes in the same owlish way you did at the chalkboard. “A parody of the audience?”

“Lysander, Hermia, Helena, Demetrius?” he offered. “Do they not mock the audience’s romantics?”

“They’re young and in love . They’re more of an ode to the audience, if anything- look at Hermia.”

Egon clicked his tongue, watching on as your passion sparked. “Her argument in the woods speaks otherwise. It mimics the efforts of the showgoers.”

“It mimics their situation!” There was the flame. He smiled to himself. This was familiar. This wasn’t confusing.

The back and forth continued, both developing a thesis: you asserted that love was arbitrary and that’s what makes it special, and he argued that love was arbitrary and that’s what makes it fleeting. You were brought to a standstill when Elon charmed a local motel owner into letting everyone use the showers- only being let in after vowing that no one in your party was a “hippie-lunatic-drug-dealer.”

What would’ve been an afternoon to get to the beach turned into an evening, when unexpected downpour managed to back up the highways. It didn’t seem to bother Elon or Ray, as they found an indoor flea market to explore while they waited for the storm to pass. It wasn’t all bad- there were endless tchotchkes to look at and Christine had managed to haggle for some unexpectedly good donuts.

The car eventually pulled into the beach town at night, joining dozens of others in the parking lot of an ocean themed motel. It was close enough to the boardwalk that the neon signs reflected off the windows, shining in Egon’s blinking eyes. Ray looked on eagerly as you popped the trunk.

“You saw the size of that coaster, right?” he asked Peter.

“Sure did.”

“We’re going on it, right?”

“Sure are.”

“You guys coming?” He asked you and Egon, making sure he still had his wallet.

You looked around, noticing that your friend and her boyfriend disappeared, probably at the front desk. Then you noticed all the stuff left to bring in. “Don’t wait up,” you breathed out, letting the men race each other to the attractions.

Egon started to help you pull bags out, before you gasped, looking up at something over your shoulder and stopping him. “What?” he followed your gaze to the yellow-lit windows of the kitsch inn.

“They’re catching up on lost time,” you dismissed him, “let’s just-” you put everything down, shutting the door. There was a beat of quiet filled with the sounds of fun from the oceanside, before you turned to him, grinning at the absurdity of the situation. “We’re stuck out here.”

You lead him towards the boardwalk, hands in your pockets. “I don’t suppose you’re a fan of rides,” you assumed.

“I’m not. You can go ahead. I’ll just,” he pushed up his glasses, “wait.”

“No way.” Egon was confused as you threw a few glances around, before stealing over to the edge of the wooden boulevard. “Come on,” you clutched a woven rope.

There wasn’t much for him to do but follow, cringing at the feeling of sand under his shoes. You led him rather quickly, only stopping to get a better sense of direction. “Don’t you need a license to be on the beach?” Egon put out.

You halted at the bottom of a formation of large rocks. “It’s the beach,” you made your way up them like a staircase, “I shouldn’t need one.”

Egon sighed, prudently doing as you did when you waited for him at the top. They weren’t that high, just slippery from the tide as they formed what was natural and short pier. “This isn’t safe,” he warned, anxiously watching as you teetered to the end. “There are rules against this.”

“Just look,” you pointed upwards once he cagily caught up to you. The moon was finally visible, white beams bathing everything in a dim, pale light. It seemed so close from here. “Turn around,” you patted him on the shoulder.

Egon hesitantly agreed, only turning around when he felt your clothes hit his back and heard your footsteps running down the makeshift wharf. There was a hearty splash when he raced to the ledge, pupils dilated when you didn’t come back up. He chucked off his shirt, diving in after you.

Your head popped out above the foaming surface of the ocean, laughing madly as you wiped the water from his face. “I remembered I can’t swim,” you gasped, gleefully holding onto Egon’s shoulders in an attempt to stay afloat. He blinked away salt from his eyes when there was the sound of a whistle from down the beach, making him hold you closer to himself.

Egon regarded the way moonlight bounced off your smiling face, seawater lapping around where you held him. Poisonous.

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